#*flaps awkwardly*

[lovelesslittleloser]

Sometimes the objectively best media is a joke that takes itself for what it is, but also kills at least one person amidst the puns and uwus

[heatherwitch]

Please enjoy these young American Kestrel siblings trying their best at life.

[samijey]

awkward puppy moment at wargames where jey approached sami for a handshake but sami didn't notice and left him hanging for a while before realizing what happened and fixing it 😭😭

[navybluetriangles]

.

[muli-wam]

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦　⁺ 　 . ✦

Swimmer!Suguru Geto was a very quiet and reserved man. He kept to himself, and kept his friend group small. He went to parties, entertained a very small number of woman who were lucky enough to get even five minutes of his time, but that life got too much sometimes.

When school was too much, Satoru’s voice too loud, or the blaring party playlists too grating, he slipped away to the only place that made sense—the university’s local pool, finding solitude in the sound of swishing water and the sharp yet familiar smell of chlorine.

Swimmer!Suguru Geto, being the captain of the swim team, had premium access to the pool so he could swim and practice whenever he pleased.

So to say he was surprised when he saw you swimming in the pool after closing hours was an understatement.

"Oh, the door was unlocked so I just thought-" you pause, looking around nervously while simultaneously trying to keep your neck above the water.

"I'll l just- I'll just go..." you trail before awkwardly making your way toward the edge of the pool.

Swimmer!Suguru Geto didn't know what to do except watch you swim towards him. Your wet baby hairs were in your face, your eyes bloodshot from the pool water. He had to admit, you were cute—too cute for your own good. It made your pathetic attempt to sneak away mildly endearing.

Suguru couldn't help but smirk as he watched you.

Your nerves were everywhere, as you were slightly insanely embarrassed by getting caught after hours in the pool by the smoking hot swim captain.

You weren’t sure if it was nerves or if you were simply the biggest klutz alive, but as you were halfway across the 5ft end of the pool, your foot slipped. Not a slight slip, no, you fully slipped and submerged under water.

You could swim—you think—but your jitteriness caused you to panic and the next thing you knew you started halfway drowning.

Panic bubbled in your chest, water filling your mouth and nostrils, hands flailing everywhere and your mind going absolutely blank.

This was it, you thought. This is how you die. Drowing in front of the hot swim captain who you didn't even know the name of.

Goodbye world, goodbye hot unnamed swim captain, and a very special goodbye to your dignity.

Swimmer!Suguru Geto chuckled for a moment as you "drowned" (your head was well above the water) before diving to save you. He felt bad for laughing, but the way your arms were flapping, splashing water to and fro, it was comical.

You reminded him of a little mouse.

With effortless precision, Swimmer!Suguru Geto cut through the water, barely making a splash as he reached for you and pulled you to the pools edge.

He holds you in his arms for a moment, chest to chest and your faces mere inches away. Your eyes were blown wide from the shock, but as you came to your senses, relief flooded you.

Swimmer!Suguru Geto looks down at you, his purple eyes soft, almost amused, as he brushes your wet hair from your face.

"Y'okay?" He whispers gently.

"Y-yeah," you say hoarsely, coughing slightly from the water in your throat.

Swimmer!Suguru Geto feels his heart pound in his chest. He hopes you don't feel it, prays you don't notice. The way you look at him—all doe-eyed, and breathless, and innocent like you didn't just break into the pool and start drowning.

You would have been dead if it wasn't for him.

Swimmer!Suguru Geto who effortlessly lifts you up and sets you down on the edge of the pool, positioning himself in front of your knees.

"Didn't think I'd be playing lifeguard today," he chuckles, leaning an arm next to your leg, causing you to verrrrry lowkey drool over his bulging muscles.

"Yeahh sorry for my...inconvenience," you nervously chuckle.

"Nah, you're good. You get a free pass 'cause you're cute," Suguru winks and thank god your face is red from all the pool water that went up your nose so he couldn't tell that you were blushing.

Swimmer!Suguru Geto who climbs out of the pool, his muscles flexing, droplets of water dripping down, down his abs and into the waistband of his jammers, making you wonder what's beneath them, though they left little to the imagination with how tight they were.

Swimmer!Suguru Geto who smirks at your oogling, but says nothing, opting to hold his hand out for you to grab while you stand up.

"Gotta make sure you don't slip again," he smirks at you, earning him a light slap on the arm.

Swimmer!Suguru Geto who walks with you towards the womans locker room as slowly as possible so he didn't have to depart with you just yet, though he claimed it was so you didn't fall and crack you head open.

In all honesty, Suguru enjoyed your company even though you've only just met under...unexpected circumstances, he liked the sound of your voice and the feeling of your skin on his. And not just in a sexual way, despite his few totally oblivious attempts to seduce you.

Swimmer!Suguru Geto internally pouts when you've both arrived to the entrance of the locker room.

"Well uh...I better go shower," you say hesitantly, the longing feeling of not wanting to depart with him also affecting you.

"Okay," he says, his face unreadable aside from his soft smile.

"Okay..."

"Don't drown."

"Uh- I won't," you laugh.

"Y'sure?" He raises a skeptical brow.

"Mhm," you nod, giggling.

"M'kay."

Swimmer!Suguru Geto who steps closer to you, tracing a finger along your jaw and lifting your chin.

"Bye, pretty girl," he whispers before walking away, leaving you baffled.

He walked away, giggling in his head like a schoolgirl, reminiscing your previous interaction. The way you blushed and giggled and clinged onto him as he swam you to safety. You were so cute, just like a little mouse.

But unfortunately, when Swimmer!Suguru Geto was halfway to his dorm did it dawn on him that he never asked for your name. He smirked to himself.

Perfect excuse to see you again.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦　⁺ 　 . ✦

A/n: why do I hate the word "jammers" sm 😭 like I would say speedo but I js cant imagine him wearing that 😭 anyway srry for the kinda long wait ;-;

Series Masterlist

Taglist: @sugarphoric @ruby-dubydu @blitziwitch @starmapz @astrasworldsblog @yamadramallamaqueen @emi311 @cam-ilaaaa @naammiii @uhhellnogetoffpleasenowty @saitamaswifey @xylov @suckkuna @gringardsreagent @coralbae @makeitrainonsomehoes @onecrafterr @cccccccccccleo @kentoslvr @p1nkfl0wers @aldebrana @seulbeomie @a1zennn @aldebrana @satorupied @shigamiryuk

@indiewritesxoxo @blueemochii @gojoswaterbottle @pelicanpizza @shinrjj @leave-rae-alone @simp-for-wanderer @quinny23 @flowerpot113 @universal-s1ut @ifiwereabug @luluminati @blobbyblogsdraws @s-1-xx @firesgod @candy-s72 @hypomaniac-oneirataxia @spam-and-eggs @tojiscvmdumpster @g3n3v13v33 @amp-444

@ll0rona @kailovsun @aksqui @criimsonmoth @mysticfluffyness @wisepeachwitch @bowlofshleep @sharkubi @bol0-de-morang0 @takuma-talkz @riahlynn-102 @fushiguroooozzz @ehcilhc @colorcode

@mimiluvzu2 @tojisblkwife @bokotarou @nana1344 @idleviewer @itsinherited @yourfavgurls-blog @shibataimu @erenspersonalwh0re @zzbloody-animezz @emoedgylord @zzz-auds

[melzula]

well since requests are open i wanted to request a zuko fic?

zuko x waterbender reader in which someone from team avatar walks in on them kissing?

i feel like it’d be funny idk lol 😂

a/n: i love this trope it’s so funny. also it’s like subtly mentioned reader is a water bender since i didn’t wanna just shove it in there awkwardly. anyway hope you enjoy!

summary: a private moment between you and your boyfriend is interrupted by your unsuspecting friends

“Are you sure no one saw you come in here?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Zuko says with a huff after closing the flaps of your tent. “You know, I’m starting to think you’re embarrassed to be seen with me.”

“You know that’s not true,” you argue with a frown. “I just enjoy having some privacy. I know those guys are going to make a big deal about us being together, and I just want to enjoy our relationship without having to deal with any prying eyes.”

“I know,” he admits with a sigh. “I’m just tired of sneaking around. Do you know how difficult it is not to kiss you or check on you after a fight with my sister? It’s torture.”

“It’s just until the war is over. There’s a lot at stake right now, and it would be a weird time to come clean. It’ll be over before you know it.”

“I hope you’re right,” Zuko murmurs with a frown, one that immediately melts away at the feel of your arms wrapping around his midsection. It’s hard to be upset when you’re smiling up at him with the purest look of adoration in your eyes. Despite everything, all of his flaws and mistakes and cruelty, you love him, and it fuels the warmth inside of his heart knowing he has someone like you. Maybe he would have joined the Avatar and his friends sooner if he knew it would lead him to you.

“At least we’re finally alone,” he notes with a faint smile before leaning down to press his lips against your own in a long awaited kiss. He hasn’t been able to give or receive affection all day, and it isn’t until now with your chest pressed against his own that he’s finally able to truly feel relaxed.

Unfortunately, you’re both too engrossed in each other to notice the rustling of your tent flaps as Sokka and Toph let themselves in without a second thought.

“Hey, y/n, Toph and I are gonna head into town, do you want to- oh, gross!” He cries after catching Zuko and yourself mid lip lock.

You both jump at the intrusion, knocking your head together on accident and groaning in unison at the impact.

“Sokka!” You cry out in embarrassment. “Monkey feathers, don’t you knock?!”

“It’s a tent! There is no knocking!” He yells back defensively, equally as upset as you are. “I can’t believe you guys were kissing!”

“We weren’t kissing,” Zuko argues, his face red with embarrassment. “We were… hugging… with our… mouths?”

“Oh, spirits,” you groan, your palm hitting your forehead in embarrassment at Zuko’s horrible attempt at lying. For a Prince, he has a terrible way with words. You’d think all that time spent with his Uncle would make his vocabulary more eloquent.

“If Toph could see she’d be very upset right now!” Sokka scolds, but the girl beside him simply shrugs.

“Actually, this works out great for me. Katara owes me five gold pieces now,” she says with a grin.

“You guys knew they were dating and didn’t tell me?!” The water tribe boy says in offense.

“I had a hunch, but Katara disagreed, so we made a bet.”

“Enough already! This is mortifying enough as it is,” you groan impatiently. “Sokka, we’ll talk about this later. For now, I need both of you out!”

After getting the two to leave the tent, you shut it closed with an irritated sigh. You’re absolutely humiliated, and you don’t think you can show your face to your friends ever again.

“So much for keeping it a secret,” the fire bender mutters.

“You,” you say with an accusatory finger pointed at the Prince, “need to learn how to lie better.”

“I know,” he admits meekly, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. Sighing, you open your water pouch and tend to the growing bump on his head from your previous collision. You can’t stay mad at him when he looks so flustered and sweet, so instead you merely throw your arms around his neck and pull him back in for another kiss.

You can focus on coming clean later. For now, you just want to enjoy your moment of peace with the boy you love.

| zuko tags: @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @taeeemin @lora21

[cxvii666]

boyfie sero who's all like:

"oh hey, baby."

hanta grins as he kicks the door shut behind him with one socked foot, a little too casually, arms still awkwardly braced around a suspiciously large cardboard box.

"hanta…" you say, slow, cautious.

he flashes all teeth, mischievous and boyish at once. "what’s up?"

you eye him. then the box. then back to him. "why did you just close the door?"

"what? me? the door? no door. i don’t know what a door is. never heard of it."

you blink. "are you… are you good?"

"yep. i’m good. i’m super good. super chill. like, zen. like a lizard on a warm rock."

you narrow your eyes. he’s trying too hard. his ears are a little pink. he’s definitely hiding something.

"yeah, well, you look good too," you reply, slowly circling toward him like he’s a suspicious animal and you’re about to check under the box flaps.

his expression shifts in an instant. smile turning into a lopsided smirk, head tilting just a little as he clocks the tone in your voice.

"i—really?" his voice lifts, playful. "how good?"

you step in closer, toe-to-toe now. "super good."

hanta’s breath stutters just slightly as your lips barely graze his. his eyes flutter, fingers tightening around the box—

bang.

you reach past him with zero ceremony and shove the door back open.

"what is that?"

he jolts like you caught him red-handed. "tank."

"…tank?"

"for the fish," he says, far too quickly.

"what fish?"

he clears his throat. "you remember that goldfish i won you at the fair? with the tiny castle and the weird eyes?"

"yeah…"

"well. it, uh. it died."

"it died?!"

"okay—wait—i swear it wasn’t my fault!" his voice spikes up, hands waving wildly as he backs toward the bed, tank clutched to his chest like it’s some kind of apology. "i tried to stop denki from flushing it, i swear—"

"denki flushed it down the toilet?!"

"did i say that?" he squeaks. "what? nooo… i mean… okay yes. but! but! i felt really bad about it. so i got you a new tank! like… like a real one. like with filters and gravel and plants, babe. like a whole aquascape moment."

you stare.

"…you bought a tank."

"for fishes," he repeats earnestly.

"a fish tank."

"yes."

"that is now in your bedroom."

"that is… correct."

and then, like a dam breaking, he launches into a full-on ramble as he sets the box down and yanks it open to show you the insides: colorful gravel, a tiny bubbling treasure chest, some plastic seaweed. he’s already unboxing it like you said yes.

"okay so listen, i did research. actual research. there’s a huge difference between saltwater and freshwater tanks and we are not doing saltwater because that’s like a whole other budget and i’m not emotionally prepared to take care of a clownfish. but freshwater? freshwater i can handle. and, dude, there’s this little fish called a celestial pearl danio and it’s, like, glittery. it sparkles. like you."

you blink.

"…you’re comparing me to a fish?"

"a beautiful fish," he corrects, very seriously. "also maybe a moss ball. those are kind of cute. round and low maintenance."

you make a face.

he beams. "you’re my moss ball."

you groan, but your face is already betraying you with a smile. "you’re so stupid."

"and yet you love me," he says, smug, crossing the room to wrap his arms around you from behind.

you sigh dramatically but lean into him anyway. "you’re lucky you’re cute."

"super cute," he mumbles into your shoulder.

[headdinthewall]

BEING MEAN ──  g.clarke  ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

summary : george wants to film a ‘who knows me best’ video with you and emily, but you both secretly prank him a/n : had this idea in my mind for a while now, emily seems like the sweetest woman ever content : established relationship ,, insults as a joke ,, short imagine today as the next post will be an INSIDE post

─────── EMILY WAS OVER at the apartment you shared with George, as you three were going to film a video for his channel. He wanted to do the ‘Who Knows Me Best Challenge’ between his girlfriend and his sister, and you both agreed.

You loved Emily and she loved you. She was so sweet and welcoming to you and never made you feel awkward or uncomfortable, if anything she did it to him by spilling his embarrassing childhood stories that made you cackle and him burn red.

Just before you started filming, you spoke to her quietly as George set the camera up, making a proposition, “Do you want to prank George?”

“Now? Or while we film?” Emily asked, immediately in on it.

“While we film. I’ve seen this thing where girls get their boyfriend’s sister to make little insults and say mean things to her to see if he says anything.”

She gaped at you, “Wait, but I don’t want to hurt your feelings.” She put a hand on your arm.

“No, no, no, don’t worry, I’m literally telling you it’s okay to do.” You laughed softly.

“Are you sure?” Emily double checked.

“Yeah, of course. I just want to see his reaction.”

“He’s gonna be so awkward about it.” She giggled.

George called out for you to come into the office, so you did. He had the camera set up and three chairs in front of it, his phone was on his lap with the questions written on his notes app.

You each sat on either side of him as he did his intro, introducing you two (even though the viewers most likely already knew who you were) and explaining the video idea.

“George these chairs are really uncomfortable.” You muttered, shuffling around to try and get comfortable.

“I think it’s just you.” Emily hummed.

“My chair’s okay.” George frowned, looking at you, “Do you want to swap?”

“Nah, it’s fine.” You shook it off.

“Reader, have you put on weight?” She asked.

“Emily!” George exclaimed, jaw dropped in shock.

“I’m just saying! She might be weighing the chair down.”

“That’s a horrible thing to say!” He chuckled awkwardly.

“It’s okay, she’s just asking, George. I don’t think I’ve put weight on.” You played along.

“Oh.” She hummed.

“Right, first question; who was my first kiss?” George asked, looking between you two to see who would answer first.

“Well it wasn’t me.” You said with a sarcastic, sad tone.

“Does he even kiss you now?” Emily chipped, looking at you directly. “It was in year eight, and the girl was … what was her name? Jessica something, I dunno.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” George nodded, rubbing his moustache, subtly glancing at you. “What do I want my first dance song to be at my future wedding?”

“You said you wanted it to be … Oh, shit I forgot! Oh makes me look like a really bad girlfriend, I do remember, I promise, it’s on the top of my tongue.” You flapped your hands about, trying to wrangle your memories together to remember the conversation you’d had with him.

“That is really bad. You are a bit of a bad girlfriend.” Emily pursed her lips and George’s smile dropped slightly.

“Em.” He said in a slightly scolding way, “Don’t say that.”

“I said ‘a bit’ not that she is a bad girlfriend!” She tried to defend herself.

“It’s fine, George, I remember. You said you wanted Arthur to perform at the wedding and you would choose whatever song when the time came.” You dismissed her comment, knowing it was all apart of the prank.

“Yeah, but I also said it’s up to you, too.” He hummed, patting your knee, “50/50.”

“Seems like 75/25.” Emily mumbled under her breath and you could tell George heard it but didn’t want to make it awkward.

The video continued, and Emily’s snarky comments only became more prominent and noticeable, and George was getting slightly annoyed, occasionally scolding her or keeping a hand on the back of your chair as a silent sign of comfort.

“Who do we think has won?” He asked, glancing between you two.

“Me, obviously. I’ve literally known you your whole life, there’s no way that … she, is knowing you more than I am.” Emily gestured to you, refusing to use your actual name.

“True, you have known me since the day I was born, but there’s things she knew about me that you didn’t.” George defended you, fingers circling your skin on your back. “Why did you say ‘she’ like that, though?”

“I know I’ve won, Geo.” Emily insisted, “She’s just not … y’know? She didn’t know stuff about what you wanted in your own wedding, that’s weird. Like, I remember everything Josh wants.”

His head whipped back and forth between you two, an awkward smile on his face, “Am I missing something?”

“In your relationship, yeah.” She shrugged, “Clearly you can do better.”

You toyed with the pandora charms spread evenly across your bracelet, playing the whole nervous, ‘I’m being insulted’ girlfriend role.

“Emily, that’s a horrible thing to say.” George frowned, “You were talking about how much you liked reader earlier and you’ve been insulting her throughout the whole thing.”

“Just voicing my own opinion.” Emily said simply.

“No, you’re being horrible.” He shook his head, looking over at you and putting his hand on your thigh, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, it’s not like we planned it or anything.” You mumbled, and Emily let out a crack of a laugh.

“What?” His eyebrows furrowed, looking between you, “I’m so confused.”

“She was being mean on purpose. It was a prank!” You laughed, high-fiving her over his head and he blinked at you.

“Oh my God!” He coughed, running a hand through his hair as the tension relieved from his body, “I thought something had happened between you two!”

Emily stood up, coming over to you and hugging you, “I’m so sorry! I feel so bad!”

“You guys stressed me out so bad, never do that again!” George said sternly.

“I promise you don’t look like you’ve put on weight, and I don’t think you’re a bad girlfriend!” She promised.

Later on, while George was editing the video, he continuously checked with you over certain clips to see if you were okay with it staying in because he was concerned that your feelings were genuinely hurt.

George Clarkey posted a youtube video !

‘Who knows me best? Girlfriend vs Sister (They pranked me😐)’

comments:

↳ user1 THE DISCLAIMER AT THE BEGINNING ‘please don’t go harassing my sister online, reader consented to the prank, they did it against me’

↳ user2 it’s so funny knowing these two are the sweetest girls irl and one of them just bullies the other all to prank george. love them as a duo x

George Clarkey genuinely was panicking while filming, wouldn’t call it funny

↳ user3 george’s head constantly going between them because he’s concerned

↳ user4 someone check on george, the hair loss from stress is getting to him

↳ user5 ‘have you put on weight’ BRUTAL OMG

George Clarkey hope you’re not agreeing with Emily on this one, reader is perfectly healthy👍🏼

↳ ArthurTV poor reader omg😭

↳ youryoutubechannel i just be catching strays😕

[mirrored-muse]

Hi! Can you do something where the yellowjackets want a day to relax but shauna is shauna 💀

But they notice how she is always trying to be close to reader and is soft on her and all of that, so they beg reader to go and seduce shauna

Reader is like: NO SHES SCARY AND HATES ME

But it happens anyways

Imagine van making sure everything is going fine with the plan by listening outside of shaunas hut 😭

ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴇᴀᴍ | ꜱ.ꜱ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 959

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪꜱᴛʀᴀᴄᴛ ꜱʜᴀᴜɴᴀ ᴛᴏ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴏᴜᴘ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴇᴀᴄᴇ.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ꜱʜᴀᴜɴᴀ ꜱʜɪᴘᴍᴀɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴀ/ɴ: ʜɪ, ᴛʏꜱᴍ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛɪɴɢ. ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱʜᴀᴜɴᴀ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ꜱᴇɴᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ꜱʜᴀᴜɴᴀ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛꜱ. 🙏🙏 ᴀʟꜱᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴜʀᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ꜰᴀʀ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ, ꜱᴏ ɪ ᴋɪɴᴅᴀ ᴛʀᴀɪʟᴇᴅ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ ɪᴛ. 😭 ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ, ʟɪᴋᴇꜱ, ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀᴘᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴀᴛᴇᴅ. <3

Shauna’s on edge again.

You feel it before she even says a word, like a storm rolling in from the trees. Her footsteps are too fast, her voice too clipped, the way she glares at everyone like they’re one breath away from pissing her off. You’re by the fire with Van, Tai, and Mari, trying to enjoy a rare moment of peace, but the tension in the air is thick enough to cut.

“She’s pacing again,” Tai mutters, glancing over her shoulder.

“Maybe she’s just bored,” you offer, not really believing it.

Van snorts. “She’s not bored. She’s stewing.”

“About what?” Mari asks. “We haven’t done anything.”

“Exactly,” Van says. “We’re not doing anything. She hates that.”

You follow their gaze to where Shauna is stalking past the tree line, arms crossed, jaw clenched. She’s been like that all day, snapping at Akilah for burning part of the squirrel meat and muttering to herself when Lottie suggested a group meditation session.

“She’s gonna lose it,” Van says under her breath, eyeing you. “Unless someone distracts her.”

Mari raises a brow. “You volunteering?”

“Hell no.”

Then everyone else turns to look at you.

You blink. “What?”

Tai smirks. “She listens to you.”

“She doesn’t listen. She just… isn’t as mean to me.”

“Exactly,” Van says. “You have the magic touch.”

You shake your head. “Nope. Not doing it.”

“Oh, come on,” Mari says. “Just go in there and flirt a little. She chills out. We get a break.”

“Do you hear yourselves?” you say. “You want me to go flirt with Oshauna bin Laden.”

Van laughs and leans in, shaking her head, “She likes you.”

You freeze, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Come on. You haven’t noticed?” Tai says, kicking a stick into the fire. “She follows you around like a guard dog.”

“She’s always watching you,” Van adds. “And not in the ‘I hate you’ way. In the ‘I’m obsessed with you and I don’t know how to process human emotions’ way.”

Your mouth goes dry. You glance toward Shauna again, now crouched near her hut, sharpening a knife like it personally offended her.

“She’s scary,” you say.

“Yeah,” Van agrees. “But maybe she’d be less scary if she got, you know… a little attention.”

You narrow your eyes. “Are you seriously trying to pimp me out right now?”

“We’re asking you to flirt with a girl who you already know wants you,” Mari says. “Not take a bullet.”

You sigh, rubbing your hands over your face. “Fine. But if she guts me, I’m haunting all of you.”

Van grins and gives you a thumbs-up. “That’s the spirit.”

⸻

You approach her hut slowly like she might lunge at you if you move too fast. Shauna doesn’t look up when you duck past the flap of hide covering the entrance of her hut. She’s crouched over something, knives or bones or both. Her hair’s a little tangled, her brow furrowed in that way that makes her look even more pissed off than she probably is.

You clear your throat. “Hey.”

She glances up, then back down. “What?”

Okay. Off to a great start.

You shift awkwardly. “Just, uh… checking in.”

Shauna snorts. “You sound like Lottie.”

You smile nervously. “That bad, huh?”

She finally looks at you. Really looks. Her eyes soften a fraction.

“What do you want?” she asks, slightly less hostile this time.

You inch closer, trying to sell the whole flirty angle, though it feels like walking a tightrope with a bear below you.

“I don’t know. Everyone’s been a little stir-crazy. Thought maybe you could use some company.”

Shauna stares at you like she’s trying to figure out if you’re making fun of her.

“I’m fine,” she says. “They should stop acting like this is summer camp.”

“You ever think maybe you’re wound a little too tight?”

Her eyes narrow. “Is that why you’re here? They send you in to fix me?”

You’re busted.

You scramble. “No- well, kind of. But also… I don’t know. I just wanted to see you.”

Shauna blinks.

You take a risk and step closer, sitting down across from her. She doesn’t move, just watches you with that unreadable expression.

“I don’t think you need to be “fixed”,” you say quietly.

She raises an eyebrow. “You sure? ‘Cause you look pretty scared right now.”

You bite your lip. “I’m not scared. Just… cautious. You’re intense.”

Shauna leans forward slightly. “You want me to back off?”

“No,” you say, heart pounding. “I want you to stop acting like you don’t care.”

Silence fills the air for a moment.

Shauna’s jaw clenches. Then slowly, she sets the knife down beside her.

“I don’t care about them,” she says. “But you? I don’t know what to do with you.”

You meet her eyes, a small smile on your lips. “You could try kissing me?”

For half a second, she doesn’t move, just stares at you. Then she does, fast, rough, and hungry. Her hand tangles in your shirt, pulling you in, and her mouth crashes against yours like she’s been holding back for weeks. It’s not soft. It’s not gentle.

It’s desperate.

You kiss her back just as hard, fisting the front of her shirt, tugging her closer until you’re both on your knees, pressed against each other.

Outside, leaves crunch. Someone stumbles back from the hut.

You inwardly groan, knowing it’s Van.

You pull back, breathless. Shauna’s eyes are blown wide, her cheeks flushed.

She doesn’t say anything, just tilts her head toward the flap of hide in the doorway.

“Someone’s listening,” she mutters.

You smile. “Should’ve known they’d send a chaperone.”

Shauna smirks. Then she slides her hands under your shirt, gripping your bare hip firmly. Possessive.

“Let her listen.”

[p0orbaby]

Hi!! Love your writing 🥰

I have a request if you can… pregnant reader x Alexia going to birthing classes together… just pure fluff and chaos 😅

-

“Irene said is useful,” Alexia mutters, like she’s just confessed to shoplifting or murder. You don’t even glance over. You’re too busy watching the instructor peel back a velcro flap on a terrifyingly lifelike model pelvis. Inside is a knitted uterus. There’s a knitted baby in it. A knitted baby.

“Irene also said vegan lasagne is ‘actually good’,” you murmur, biting back a smirk. “We don’t listen to Irene.”

Alexia exhales. Not quite a sigh—more like the emotional equivalent of deflating a beach ball. You can feel the tension radiating from her like passive-aggressive heat. She’s tucked into the plastic chair like she’s bracing for turbulence. Her hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands, jaw set like she’s in the line-up for a penalty kick rather than surrounded by four couples, two birthing balls, and one very enthusiastic woman named ‘Ma-rree-ahh’. With the rolled r, always.

You lean closer. “She’s going to make us visualise our cervixes. I can feel it. It’s coming. Like a full-body, vaginal TED Talk.”

Alexia doesn’t laugh, but you see the corner of her mouth twitch. A private smile. She only ever gives you those.

“I want coffee,” she says under her breath.

“We’ll get one after. You can emotionally recover over an oat flat white.”

She nods. “Two sugars.”

“Reckless.”

Ma-rree-ahh claps once, sharp and loud, like a P.E. teacher who regrets her life choices. “Today we’re learning about the stages of labour. Partners, this is your time to shine!”

Alexia looks at you. “Why always us?”

“We’re in too deep now,” you whisper back. “We’re too visibly gay. They think we’re trailblazers.”

The laminated sheets come out again. Everything is beige and red and extremely confronting. One of them has a diagram that looks like the cross-section of a ham sandwich in crisis. Alexia squints at it.

“This is not… correct,” she says slowly. “Is like horror film.”

Ma-rree-ahh is now speaking gently, seriously, about the beauty of the body. The magic. The connection. She’s using the word journey too often. The man beside you is crying again. He cried last week too, when they played that video of a water birth and the baby looked like it was emerging from a murky portal of grief.

You lean in. “He’s going to pass out during the actual thing, isn’t he?”

Alexia, deadpan: “I will push him.”

They make you do breathing exercises. ‘Rose and candle’. Inhale like it’s spring. Exhale like your house is on fire. Alexia breathes like she’s been threatened into it.

“It’s weird,” you say. “Thinking it’s coming soon.” You place a hand on your belly. The bump makes your hoodie ride up awkwardly, revealing the elastic waistband of the only trousers you’ve been able to wear for a month. Alexia pulls the hem down gently. Doesn’t say anything. Just presses her thumb into the centre of your palm and holds it there. Like she’s grounding you. Like she’s grounding herself.

You speak again, quietly. “You think we’ll be good at this?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know. But… we try.”

That’s the thing about Alexia. No grand declarations. No dramatic speeches. Just a quiet try. The word us always implied.

Now Ma-rree-ahh has pulled out a box labelled LABOUR SIMULATOR. You grab Alexia’s wrist. “Run.”

Her voice is flat. “I cannot run. You are slow now.”

“They’re going to make you pretend to coach me through contractions.”

“I don’t want.”

“I know you don’t want. But you will. Because you love me. And also because I have full control over the Spotify playlist in the car.”

Alexia blinks. “You are manipulative.”

You grin. “And heavily pregnant.”

Somehow, it’s over. Or at least, the worst of it is. You’re released after a demonstration on perineal massage that made a woman in the front row cross herself. The laminated cervix is back in its little A4 pouch. You and Alexia escape into the Barcelona evening like you’ve just been let out of jury duty.

Outside, you loop your arm through hers. She’s warm. Solid. Her thumb finds your palm again.

“You were good in there,” you say, mostly to tease.

She shakes her head. “I was terrible.”

“No, you were quietly supportive. Like a very stoic golden retriever.”

She sighs. “Next week… what is it?”

“Birth positions.”

Alexia frowns. “Positions?”

“Oh yes. You’ll be encouraged to crouch behind me like a backup dancer in a very weird music video.”

She doesn’t reply, but you see it again—that tiny twitch of her mouth.

Quiet. Subtle. Steady. And yours.

“You still want that coffee?” you ask.

Alexia nods. “Please. And cake. For emotional reasons.”

You press a kiss to her shoulder. “You’ve earned it, mamá.”

She groans. “Do not call me that here.”

You smile, already pulling her towards the café. She follows. She always does.

[nina-ya]

Synopsis: You're cold, Luffy's colder, whats a better way to warm up than for him to steal all of your body heat? Of course sharing body heat can come in many forms and with less clothing. Pairing: Luffy x AFAB reader CW: NSFW MINORS DNI, p in v sex, spit as lubricant, porn with like a whiff of plot • ficmas masterlist • ko-fi • discord server •

The night on the Sunny was bitterly cold; Nami had mentioned something earlier about passing through an area of the sea tonight that would be frigid, but you didn’t anticipate it being this cold. 

You were tucked into the warmest blanket you could find, huddled up in the kitchen with a cup of steaming tea resting in your hands. Deciding the tea wasn’t helping much, you shuffled out to the deck, hoping that moving around might warm you up, the blanket following you as you held it tightly around yourself. 

You paused mid-step when you noticed a familiar figure perched on the Sunny’s figurehead. Luffy was sitting cross-legged, red vest flapping open in the wind, straw hat tilted back and his gaze looking onward as if he didn’t have a care in the world. 

“What the hell are you doing out here?’ you called, your voice carrying over the sound of the wind. 

Luffy perked up at the sound of your voice, his head turning toward you with that boyish grin that you knew all too well. “Hey! You’re awake!” he exclaimed, leaping off the figurehead and landing with a soft thud, his feet padding across the deck as he made his way toward you.

You blinked at him incredulously. “Luffy, it’s freezing out here, and you’re dressed like… that!” You gestured at his scant clothing, your disbelief obvious. “How are you not an icicle by now? I’m so cold, I can barely feel my fingers!”

His grin widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned closer. “I can find a way to keep you warm,” he said, his voice laced with an unmistakable challenge. 

You deadpanned, raising an eyebrow at him. “And how exactly do you plan on doing that when you’re half-frozen yourself?”

It was only at your comment that his bravado began to falter. His fingertips were an alarming shade of red, his nose and ears similarly flushed from the cold. Even his lips had taken on a slightly blue tinge. 

“See?” you said, crossing your arms under the blanket for added emphasis. “You’re probably colder than I am! You’re lucky you didn’t get frostbite yet.” 

Luffy hesitated for a moment as if realizing the truth of your words. Then, with the subtlety of a cannonball, he threw himself forward, burrowing into the blanket you held around your shoulders

“Luffy!” you squealed, stumbling backward as the sheer force of his weight nearly knocked you over. His arms wrapped around you, his face pressed against your shoulder as he sought the warmth of your body and the blanket. 

“You’re warm,” he mumbled, his voice muffled but content. 

“You’re freezing!” you shot back, wriggling under the blanket as his coldness seeped into you. “Get off!”

He only clung tighter, refusing to let go despite your protests. The two of you hobbled awkwardly toward the interior of the ship, the blanket barely big enough to cover both of you as you shuffled along. 

You barely managed to make it through to the inside before you two tumbled to the ground in a tangled heap of limbs and laughter. The fall was far from graceful-- Luffy’s weight knocked the breath out of you and his hat fell askew, but his laugh was so infectious you couldn’t help but dissolve into giggles. 

“You’re such an idiot,” you managed between breaths, your cheeks aching from smiling. 

He grinned in response, nose brushing against yours before he leaned down to capture your lips in a chaste, playful kiss. One kiss became another, soft giggles spilling between you until the sweetness melted into something hungrier, deeper. His tongue flicked along your bottom lip, coaxing it open, and the teasing edge of his grin faded into unbridled desire. 

Luffy shifted, pressing his hips down against yours in a hurried grind, the roughness of his pants grazing the heat between your legs, the friction pulling a soft gasp from your lips. “Does the cold make you horny or something?” you teased, your voice breathless.

Luffy chuckled, his lips trailing from yours to nip at the sensitive skin below your ear. “No,” he breathed out. “You do.” 

He sat up slightly, his hands deft as they worked to untangle the blanket from around the both of you. “Hold this up for me,” he instructed, nodding toward the edge of the blanket as his free hand went to the waistband of his shorts.

You obeyed, lifting the blanket just enough to give him space. Luffy wasted no time, tugging his shorts down just enough to free himself, his cock springing free, flushed and leaking in the chill air. He hissed softly at the cold, spitting into his palm without hesitation and wrapping his hand around himself.

Your breath hitched as you watched, heat pooling between your legs at the way his hand moved over his length, spreading the slickness with messy, uneven strokes. Each pass of his palm along the sensitive head drew a shudder from him, dark eyes flickering up to meet yours with a gleam that was all heat and mischief.

“Move these,” he urged, fingers hooking into the waistband of your pants and tugging pointedly. You wriggled beneath him, helping to shove the fabric down just enough to bare yourself to him. The cool air hit your slick folds, making you gasp, but the sensation was quickly replaced by the press of his fingers. 

He groaned softly, dragging his fingers through your wetness. “So warm,” he muttered, his words half-dazed as he spread the moisture, coating his digits before teasing your entrance. 

“Luffy,” you breathed, your hips bucking slightly as his fingers slipped inside. Your body arched into his touch, a moan slipping past your lips before you could stop it. 

“Yeah,” he murmured, pulling his fingers free only to guide his cock to your entrance. His eyes locked with yours as he pushed forward, the blunt head stretching you inch by inch. “So warm,” he repeated, his voice a whisper this time. 

The stretch was slow, almost maddening, and you couldn’t help the way your hips rocked upward, desperate to take him deeper. He exhaled sharply, his hands gripping your thighs to hold you still as he buried himself to the hilt. A groan tore from his throat, rough and unrestrained. 

“Fuck… you feel so good,” he rasped, his head falling to rest against your shoulder. His hips pulled back, the drag of him inside you leaving you trembling, before he thrust forward again, sharper this time. 

Your fingers dug into his back as his pace built, each thrust pushing deeper, drawing moans from both of you. The slick slide of him was sinful, each movement accompanied by the sound of skin meeting with skin, barely muffled by the blanket.

“Still cold?” he teased breathlessly, his grin audible as his lips found yours once again. 

Your only response was a gasped “no,” your body writhing beneath him.

Luffy’s thrusts gained a steady rhythm, each one followed by a shared noise of pleasure. His hands were everywhere-- gripping your thighs to keep them spread wide, trailing along your waist, pulling your hips to meet each of his thrusts. 

The blanket draped over your bodies fluttered with his movements, slipping with each passing second, though you didn’t care at the moment when his cock was currently driving into you, the slickness of your arousal making each slide effortless, sinful. Each thrust filled you completely, his length hitting a certain spot in you that sent sharp jolts of pleasure shooting through your body. 

“Oh fuck,” he groaned, voice airy as his lips brushed against your skin, alternating between open-mouthed kisses and bites that made you gasp. “So perfect…” 

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging as you gasped his name, your voice trembling. His pelvis snapped against your clit with each thrust, adding another layer of pleasure that pushed you closer and closer to the edge. 

“Luffy, please,” you whimpered out, your words spilling out in a breathless plea. The pressure inside of you was building in a rapid crescendo, your body growing more tense with each movement. 

His shit-eating grin was evident in his next words. “Please, what?’ he teased, his pace slowing down, pulling a whine of protest from you, your hips catching upwards to chase the friction. He chuckled, his fingers digging into your hips to still your movements. “Say it.”

“Don’t -- ah -- don’t stop,” you managed, your voice breaking on the last syllable as he thrust forward sharply, his cock brushing your cervix with pinpoint accuracy. 

You clawed at his back, nails threatening to tear the fabric of his vest as you clung to him, your breath coming out in shallow, erratic gasps. The fire he’d ignited in you burned hotter and brighter, until that coil finally snapped, sending you spiraling into ecstasy. 

You clenched around him as you came, your thighs spasming, your head tossing back as a loud cry escaped your lips. Stars danced behind your closed eyes as wave after wave of bliss consumed you, Luffy’s pace faltering for just a moment as your walls fluttered around him, squeezing tightly. 

“Fucking--” he hissed, voice strained as he continued to thrust, chasing his own release. His hold on you tightened, thrusts growing erratic until he buried himself to the hilt one last time, groaning deeply as he spilled inside of you, each pulse of his cock flooding you with his warmth. 

He collapsed against you, weight pressing you into the wooden floor with minimal regard to either of your comforts as your breathing slowly steadied. Your protest came in the form of a muffled whine, Luffy’s weight sprawled on top of you quickly surpassing its initial charm. “You’re so heavy,”  you whined out, trying to push him off of you. 

In the middle of your efforts, the door you guys stumbled into creaked open a fraction before abruptly slamming shut, accompanied by an indignant squawk. “What the hell are you two doing? Right in front of a doorway?!”

The muffled scolding caused Luffy to turn his head lazily, craning his neck toward the closed door with a wide grin. “Oops,” he said, completely unapologetic, his laughter bubbling out. 

You groaned, nudging him with your elbow. “Luffy, get off me before someone else sees us like this!”

His lip jutted out in a pout before he rolled off to the side, pulling out of you and sprawling on his back with no sense of urgency. “Fine, fine,” he said, not an ounce of regret in his tone. He grabbed the blanket and began wiping at his softened cock, thoroughly unbothered. 

“Seriously? The blanket?” you asked, wriggling to pull your pants up as quickly as possible. 

“It’s right here,” he replied with a snicker, tossing it to you so you could clean yourself up too. The blanket bore more evidence of your activities than you’d care to admit, but it served its purpose. 

The sound of Luffy’s stomach rumbling loudly broke the silence that followed, earning a startled laugh from you. 

“Really? Did this not satiate you enough?” you teased, brushing your hands on your pants. 

Luffy shrugged, rising to his feet with the kind of grace only he could manage after such chaos. “I’m starving,” he declared lazily. “I hope Sanji’s awake!” 

“You think you deserve food after that?” 

He shot you a cheeky grin, his hand already reaching for yours to tug you along. “Of course! I worked up an appetite.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips as you followed him toward the kitchen. Sanji’s lack of presence in the kitchen didn’t stop the rubber man from locking onto the nearest piece of food he could get his hands on. You sat on the counter to watch as he enthusiastically dove in, not even phased by the earlier mortification. Though you couldn’t deny that his energy and charm made every moment with him something you wouldn’t trade for anything. 

[sweetromanova]

Claw & Order: Part Two🐾

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff is being accused of grand theft feline. The evidence? A very smug tabby. The problem? She kinda loves him now.

A/N: part three and four to follow👀

Chapter Two

“HEY! YOU- YOU- CAT-THIEF!” Natasha looked up.

You were storming down the stairs of your building like you’d been lying in wait, fists clenched, murder in your eyes, a crumpled flyer flapping like a war banner in one hand. You pointed at her with all the rage of someone who had been personally victimised by every member of SHIELD.

“I knew it.” You shouted, practically vibrating. “I knew someone stole my cat- YOU stole my cat!”

Natasha raised a brow. “Excuse me-“

“You kidnapped him! You cat-napped him! An Avenger CAT NAPPED MY CAT?! How righteous.” Your voice was borderline hysterical now, rising with every word. “You lured him with your fancy assassin snacks and your deceptively soft clothes and he fell for it like a TRAITOR!”

Liho meowed, completely unfazed.

“You think I wouldn’t notice?” You snapped, jabbing the flyer toward her face. “This photo has been up in every coffee shop and bodega within twenty blocks!”

“I didn’t see it.” Natasha said evenly, trying to not escalate the situation. “He showed up at the tower and I thought he was a stray.”

“Oh yeah? Just conveniently stray enough to wander past all the fancy Stark tech and security guards and make himself comfortable on your designer duvet?

Natasha blinked. “He… has good taste.”

“HE HAS A MICROCHIP!”

“I didn’t scan him.” This was going no where, Natasha thought. “Look I fed him tuna once. Maybe twice.”

“TUNA?!”

“It was organic.”

“You seduced my cat!”

Natasha stared. “…I’m sorry. I what?”

“You seduced him with room service and shiny toys and now he thinks he’s too good for my IKEA furniture!”

Natasha glanced down at the carrier, where Liho was poking his paw through the mesh, entirely unbothered by your escalating volume.

“I didn’t plan this. I didn’t steal him. He just kept coming back.”

“Oh, right.” You scoffed, sarcasm dripping. “Like some furry little Mission Impossible agent, scaling compound walls and disabling Stark defenses to get a snack from a redacted Russian spy? That’s your defense?”

“…He’s very agile.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You better be glad I don’t press charges.”

“I already brought him back.” Natasha pointed out.

“Too late! The damage is done! I’ve been crying into a $12 pint of oat milk ice cream for three days! Three! I thought he was in a gutter!”

Natasha said nothing. She could’ve explained, maybe. Apologized, awkwardly. But you were on a roll now, hands flailing as you listed her crimes.

“Do you know how many times I circled this neighborhood? How many hours I spent crouching in alleyways calling him like a sad ex at 2am? You stole my cat, you tuna-wielding homewrecker!”

“…That’s new.” Liho chirped like he found that accurate.

“I’m taking him back.” You snapped, reaching for the carrier. “And you- you can go back to your lonely, emotionally repressed murder-bed without him.”

Natasha didn’t fight you.

You took one last glance of anger at her and turned, muttering angrily under your breath as you stormed away.

Natasha watched you go. Under her breath, she whispered. “You’re welcome.”

⋆⋆⋆⋆

There was something about the post-mission debrief that always felt like therapy with too many snacks. Except this time, no one had been on a mission. And Natasha was very much not planning to talk about feelings. Or cats. Or the fact that her apartment now felt weirdly quiet.

She sipped her drink slowly, eyes fixed on the news silently scrolling across the TV. Clint dropped onto the couch beside her with a grunt.

“You good?” He asked, reaching for a bowl of popcorn like it hadn’t been someone else’s hand.

“Fine.”

“Sure.” He said, unconvinced. “You’ve been brooding harder than usual. Even for you.”

“I am not brooding.”

“You’re brooding in HD.”

Sam strolled in from the kitchen, grinning. “Is this about the cat?”

Clint perked up. “Wait- what cat?”

Wanda entered right behind him, looking way too pleased with herself. “Oh.” She said sweetly, grabbing a sparkling water. “You mean Liho? The one Natasha definitely didn’t steal?”

Natasha exhaled slowly. “I didn’t steal him.”

Wanda flopped onto the other couch and crossed her legs. “Sure. He just ‘appeared’ in your room. Every day. For a week.”

Sam grinned. “With his own blanket and feeding schedule.”

Clint’s mouth dropped open. “Wait, you adopted a cat?!”

“I didn’t adopt him.” Natasha muttered. “He adopted me. And I gave him back.”

Wanda sipped her drink. “After the yelling.”

“What yelling?” Clint was nearly vibrating now. “Who yelled at you?!”

“Can I just say I’m never telling you anything again Witch?!” Natasha looked up, deadpan. “His original owner found me, in the street as I tried to return him. Yelled at me for ‘seducing her cat with premium tuna and fancy furniture.”

There was a moment of silence.

Then Clint exploded. He doubled over on the couch, practically weeping with laughter. Sam dropped his drink. Wanda didn’t even try to hide her smirk.

“Oh my god.” Clint wheezed.

“No!” Sam shouted. “NO WAY! She really gave it to you? To your face?!”

“She accused me of ‘weaponising tuna against her.’”

Clint was now on the floor.

Wanda raised a brow. “…Did you?”

Natasha blinked. “It was organic.”

More howling.

Clint was trying to breathe. “You- you- an international assassin got publicly shamed for catnapping via affection. This is better than the Budapest file.”

Sam wiped his eyes. “Please tell me there’s security footage.”

“There’s probably footage from some security camera.”Wanda said smugly. “FRIDAY?”

“Would you like it on the main screen?”

“No!” Natasha snapped.

“Yes.” The team chorused, she was never living this down.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

Natasha lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. It was quiet, no soft grumbles, no light breathing or purring.

She’d already cleaned the corner where his toy mouse used to be, washed the blanket, closed the window Liho used to sit in.

She hadn’t realised how used to the soft weight of him she’d become. The purring, the judging stares when she didn’t finish her food.

She exhaled.

“…I am not a cat-seducing menace.”

No one answered.

Except, maybe, the empty spot at the foot of her bed.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

It was a couple days later and the morning had started like any other, mildly chaotic. Clint had stolen Wanda’s yogurt bowl, Steve was pretending not to notice and Sam was arguing with FRIDAY about music choices in the gym.

“Something’s going on downstairs.” Tony commented, looking at the security alert on his phone.

“Something as in nothing or something as in I’ve got to suit up?” Sam questioned, praying for the first part.

“Nah, it’s nothing. Some crazy woman shouting about a cat.”

Clint didn’t miss how Natasha’s tensed.

“Maybe we should ask Friday.” He suggested, still staring at the redhead that was looking everywhere but him.

“I mean sure, if you care so much.” Tony shrugged, clueless to the growing tension. “Friday, what’s the situation in the lobby?”

“It appears a civilian in the lobby is demanding to speak with Agent Romanoff. They’re… emotionally distressed and accusing you of cat theft. Again.”

Wanda dropped her spoon into her cereal.

Clint spun in his chair. “No. Way.”

“I don’t have the cat!” Natasha exclaimed.

“Wait- What Cat?” Tony was left ignored as the redhead stormed downstairs.

⋆⋆⋆⋆

You were already yelling by the time security hesitantly opened the doors.

“WHERE IS SHE?”

The receptionist blinked. “I- Can I help-“

“Don’t play dumb, I know she’s here! Natasha Romanoff! Red hair, dead eyes, probably smells like tuna and theft!”

You held up the flyer, crumpled, tear-streaked, freshly re-printed.

“Milo’s gone. Gone! And do you know what that means?” You shouted, spinning toward a confused security guard. “It means someone took him. And there’s only one person insane and manipulative enough to do that! THE CAT-SNATCHING, TUNA-BRIBING ASSASSIN HERSELF.”

There was a long pause as your words echoed through the lobby.

Then the elevator dinged.

Natasha stepped out and stopped. “…What the hell is happening?”

You turned slowly, eyes bloodshot, fists clenched like this was round two of a grudge match no one else was ready for.

“You.” You hissed, voice shaking. “You took him again.”

Natasha’s brow furrowed. “What—”

“Don’t play innocent. He was fine until you got your emotionally stunted hands all over him. Now he’s vanished. Again. Like a tiny, furry double agent with a jetpack.”

Natasha opened her mouth. Closed it.

Behind her, Sam whispered. “Should we be calling, like, a professional?”

Clint leaned over the balcony. “Let them fight.”

You stomped closer, tears barely contained. “He slept in my laundry basket. He batted my toothbrush under the fridge! We cuddled! I thought he was safe and then I come home and he’s just gone and there’s only one person who’s ever made him leave before- you!”

“I didn’t take him.” Natasha said, quietly but firmly.

“You didn’t not take him either!”

Natasha stepped forward, voice low. “Do you really think I’d take him after everything? After what you said to me on the street?”

You faltered.

The weight of everything slammed into you, panic, sleep deprivation, guilt, missing fur and empty corners and all the soft little rituals that had vanished with him.

“I-“

“I don’t have your cat. I returned him the second I found out he was missing.” Natasha explained. “So I’m sorry he’s gone but I didn’t take him.”

“But-“

“Are you sure he’s missing?”

“I’m sure. He doesn’t do this, ever. We don’t have much but…” You faltered, tears springing in your eyes. “We don’t have much but we have each other and he’s never left for this long.”

Natasha hesitated.

“I just want him back.” You whispered, suddenly feeling just so so tired.

For a second, just one heartbeat, Natasha’s expression cracked, worry flickering through her cool mask.

“…Let me help.”

You looked up at her, startled. “What?”

“Let me help you find him.”

You blinked. “But… I- I shouted at you.”

Natasha sighed. “You did and maybe I deserved some things you said.”

“Not the tuna thing.” You muttered.

“No, definitely not the tuna thing.” She said. “I fed him. I didn’t brainwash him.”

“He chose you over me.”

“He chose whoever had snacks. Don’t take it personally.”

You almost laughed. Almost.

She held out her hand. “Let me help.”

You hesitated… then nodded.

Somewhere above you, Sam whispered. “So is this a rom-com now or what?”

Clint was already placing a new bet in the group chat.

[elodieunderglass]

Honestly thought I'd never hear the word "usborne" again. My mom used to live and breathe that company, and while I certainly don't regret a fair chunk, I do find it amusing as I look back now. I legitimately thought it had fallen off faster than Juice+.

In reference to a post where i mention my kid has the usborne “see inside germs” book.

So if people don’t know, usborne is a weird publishing company that has done indispensable books for British children for generations; they’re in every library, school and nursery, and have shelves devoted to them in every bookstore. They are how many people learned to read, and are the originators of many hyper focuses. They’re famed for doing educational lift the flap books for all ages, like “see inside your body”, as well as as the ubiquitous touch-and-feel series, “that’s not my….” In which a mouse comments improbably on various creatures not being their creature. “That’s not my dragon,” the mouse says, inviting you to stroke a dragon with a patch of fur on it, “its tummy is too soft. That’s not my dragon,” on the next page, where the dragon’s ears are lined with textured paper, “its ears are too bumpy.” This seems like such an inefficient way to find one’s missing dragon, a fact that simmers underneath you through endless repetition. Why does the mouse own so many things (pirates, ducks, polar bears) and why is it interrogating other people’s pirates etc by feeling their legs.

At any rate, turn a parents’ house upside down and these books fall out.

Which is why it’s completely hilarious that they are also an MLM.

Well. Kind of. In the old school sense. It’s less about signing up a pyramid scheme and more about getting a random citizen to buy a crate of perfectly popular books and try to sell them on from their home. It’s very traditional for Mums On Maternity Leave to do this. Pre-social media and online ordering, they’d hook up other mums at toddler group. Today, they post awkwardly on social media. The idea is that buying from another parent is cheaper than the bookstore, and they get to keep the markup. They get intense about things, and I believe they attend conferences. Nobody makes a huge amount of money and it’s unclear how undercutting local bookstores is helpful; it’s also basically the same RRP as Amazon I think.

And the books are perfectly respectable and sell perfectly well in bookstores.

So. Like. This marketing scheme is completely weird. Why?? Why does it still exist? People buy the books normally! You don’t need to promote them aggressively! You don’t need elaborate independent local middlemen schemes! You can just buy them! I have never understood this. I just file it under one of those weird mat leave hustles.

But don’t worry OP. They’re still going. They’ll never stop. The thing is that your mom got bored and online sales probably ate whatever residual profit margins were left and it’s probably very liberating for everyone to grow out of the “that’s not my cow” stage, but Usborne books are going strong.

[wispitty]

law x reader | “sugar & surgeons” {ch.1}

summary: you're an aspiring chef that never planned to end up on a submarine full of pirates. but after collapsing in the rain, you wake aboard the Polar Tang, surrounded by a crew that’s far more chaotic (and sweet) than you expected, alongside a certain captain with storm-grey eyes you can’t seem to decipher… or stop thinking about. tag list: law/you, corazon is alive and well and a member of the heart pirates au, slow burn romance, found family, food as love language, romcom vibes, happiness bc they fucking deserve it chapter list:

chapter one

Chapter 1: Cinnamon & Rain

The storm had crept in like a bad habit—quiet at first, but relentless in its persistence. Raindrops hissed against the cobblestones, soaking the narrow streets of the port town in a cold, unwelcoming sheen. The distant thrum of thunder rolled across the rooftops like a sigh of warning.

Corazon’s coat flapped heavily behind him, waterlogged and clinging to his frame. He muttered something half-hearted under his breath, not quite a curse, but far from cheerful.

This had been meant to be a simple errand. In, out, back to the ship with a restock of medical supplies and something warm to eat for the crew. Instead, he was soaked to the bone, the bakery had been closed, and the only thing he’d managed to pick up was an umbrella he forgot to open until after the rain started.

Brilliant.

He rounded the corner, boots splashing quietly through shallow puddles, and tugged the collar of his coat higher. The streets were mostly deserted now, save for flickering lanterns hanging beneath awnings and the occasional stray dog darting between crates. The town, in all its gloomy hush, almost felt asleep.

Until he collided with something—someone.

He staggered back a step, arms reflexively catching hold of what at first he thought was just a bundle of fabric. But it wasn’t. It was warm. Breathing. Trembling.

A young woman.

Corazon blinked, startled, looking down at the figure now cradled awkwardly in his arms. Her clothes were soaked, her hair plastered to her face, and she looked like she’d been out in the rain far longer than he had.

“Hey—” His voice cracked out of his throat, rusty from disuse. He cleared it and tried again, softer. “Hey. Are you alright?”

She stirred faintly at the sound, lips parting, her expression flickering with something between confusion and relief. Then her knees buckled fully.

Corazon caught her before she hit the ground.

A moment passed. The rain fell.

He knelt there in the street, her weight in his arms, heart thudding not from fear—but from a strange, quiet urgency he hadn’t felt in a long time. She wasn’t unconscious, not fully, but close. And burning up.

Fever.

Corazon shifted her in his arms, brow furrowing under the wet strands of his hair. He glanced down the street. The Polar Tang wasn’t far—just past the next dock. Law was still aboard, probably irritated that he hadn’t returned yet, but—

He looked at the woman again. She smelled faintly of sugar and spices, even soaked to the skin. Her hands were scratched. Fingernails stained with something—cinnamon?

A baker?

No. A cook, maybe.

What the hell were you doing out here?

He sighed and stood, adjusting her weight gently in his arms. Rain rolled down the side of his face, stinging against the cuts he'd gotten earlier from a smashed bottle. He ignored it.

“I’ve got you,” he muttered quietly, voice barely more than a breath. “Hang on.”

And with that, Corazon carried her through the rain.

Toward the ship. Toward safety.

Toward something none of them knew yet.

After about ten minutes, her breathing started getting worse.

Sharp, shallow gasps against his coat, each one shuddering like her body couldn’t decide whether it was hot or freezing. Her fingers curled lightly into the fabric at his collar, grasping at something—anything—to anchor herself.

Corazon’s boots pounded against the slick stone as he picked up his pace, arms tightening protectively around her trembling frame. She was still conscious, barely, but whatever had weakened her was setting in fast. And the storm wasn’t letting up.

Another crack of thunder split the sky, closer this time. Wind surged through the streets like a living thing, howling between buildings and slamming a nearby shutter open and shut.

He didn’t flinch. He couldn’t afford to.

“There, just a little more,” he whispered to her, though he wasn’t sure if she could hear. “Stay with me.”

The Polar Tang came into view—its clean yellow hull a comforting contrast against the dark storm. Crew members stood just outside the hatch, scrambling to secure tarps and equipment before the wind tore them loose. Two men in matching uniforms looked up when they heard the hurried footsteps. Their eyes widened.

“Rossi?!”

“Who’s that?!”

Corazon didn’t stop to answer. Rain streamed off his hair and down his face, his coat dragging like lead behind him as he barreled toward the ramp. His arms shifted her weight again instinctively, his voice raised—not panicked, but tight.

“She needs help. Get Law.”

The commotion brought more of the crew to the entryway, boots thudding, voices overlapping in confusion. A few of them backed up at the sight—Corazon, drenched, carrying someone unknown and clearly feverish.

The sight of him alone was enough to sound alarm bells.

“She’s burning up,” he said more firmly this time, breath hitching. “She collapsed—on the street—"

The crowd parted.

And Law stepped forward.

He was dry, composed, standing just inside the threshold with the lighting overhead casting shadows under his eyes. His coat was unbuttoned, a cup of untouched coffee in his hand. But the second he saw Corazon, soaked and wild-eyed, and the girl in his arms…

The mug was forgotten.

“Bring her in,” Law said sharply, voice already shifting into command.

The medical bay lights flickered on.

And Corazon—heart pounding, soaked to his bones, and still not letting go—finally crossed the threshold, never once loosening his grip.

The metal doors hissed open, the soft sterile glow of the Polar Tang’s infirmary spilling across the floor as Law strode in ahead of them. He’d already rolled his sleeves to the elbow, black gloves snapped on with clinical precision. The moment Corazon stepped through the threshold, the warmth hit like a wave—artificial but welcome.

“Put her on the table,” Law instructed calmly, pointing to the main med bay cot. He was already moving to the cabinets, grabbing supplies with practiced ease. “Bepo, start the vitals. Shachi, Penguin—blankets, towels, anything dry.”

“Aye!” “On it!”

Corazon didn’t say a word as he laid her down gently, water dripping from his coat onto the tile. He knelt at the edge of the bed for a moment longer, brushing her soaked hair from her face with fingers that were starting to tremble—from cold, probably. Probably.

Her brow was furrowed. Her lips parted. Her breathing, still shallow, rasped faintly with each inhale.

She looked… like hell. Yet, there was a softness to her face, even beneath the paleness and damp hair. Skin flushed with fever, lashes clumped from the rain. A bruise was forming at her knee from the fall, and a faint cinnamon scent still clung to her.

“Rossi,” Shachi’s voice broke through the hush, “you’re soaked. You’re gonna catch somethin’. Go change before you collapse too.”

Corazon blinked, barely registering the towel that had been shoved into his hands.

Bepo stepped between them, paws already checking her pulse and temperature. “She’s burning up. Fever’s been building for hours, maybe longer. Did she say anything?”

“No,” Corazon croaked, then cleared his throat. “Just collapsed. She was standing. Then—gone.”

“Then she’s lucky you found her,” Law muttered without looking up, focused entirely on inspecting her limbs, checking her responsiveness. His brows knit as he observed her condition. “There’s no sign of injury aside from the fall. This looks viral. Possibly exhaustion too—malnourished, dehydrated…”

He paused, glancing at her hands.

Small cuts, calluses. Fingertips stained faintly red-brown.

“…Cinnamon?”

Shachi peered closer. “Wait, is she a baker?”

“She smells like cookies,” Bepo offered, ears twitching.

Law didn’t reply, but his gaze lingered for just a second longer than it needed to. That's when your eyes fluttered open briefly, hazy and unfocused, and he caught the faintest glimpse of color—somewhere between honey and warm morning light—before they slipped closed again.

“Responds to light stimuli. That’s good.” He reached for an IV line. “Let’s stabilize her vitals, get her fluids—Penguin, prep antibiotics.”

“I’m serious, Rossi,” Shachi warned from behind. “You’re sneezing already. You’re not helpin’ anyone if you keel over.”

As if on cue, Corazon sneezed. Loudly.

“…That’s not a denial,” Penguin added, tossing him a dry shirt and a sour look. “Get your ass changed.”

Corazon, who had been hovering just out of Law’s way, reluctantly caught the clothes. His eyes never left her as he slowly backed toward the door.

“I’ll be right outside,” he murmured.

Law gave a curt nod without looking up.

The door slid shut behind him.

The room quieted—save for the steady beep of a monitor, the rustle of blankets, and the slow, strained breathing of a girl who smelled like warmth and sugar, even as she lay on the brink of breaking.

Law glanced down once more, his hands stilling slightly as he adjusted the IV line. For all her softness, there was something stubborn in her brow, something that made him pause.

“…What the hell were you doing out there?”

He didn’t expect an answer. But he waited.

Eventually, the rain began to soften outside.

It still pattered gently on the steel of the hull, rhythmic and distant like the lingering echo of a heartbeat. The ship had stilled with it—no rushing crew, no barking orders. Just a hush that settled over the halls of the Polar Tang like a blanket.

Corazon sat on the bench just outside the infirmary, now clad in dry sweats and a towel draped around his shoulders. His hair, still damp, clung lazily to his temples. A mug of tea rested untouched in his hands, the steam rising up to kiss his nose, but he didn’t drink.

He was listening.

Through the door, he could hear the soft beeps of the machines, the quiet shuffle of movement as Law wrapped up treatment. No alarms. No panic.

She was stable.

That alone made his shoulders ease slightly, though the knot in his chest refused to fully loosen.

The door opened with a soft hiss. Law stepped through first, removing his gloves with a snap. Bepo followed, giving a small nod and thumbs-up. Behind them, Shachi and Penguin trailed in with quieter footsteps.

“She’s asleep,” Law said flatly, coming to a stop across from Corazon. “Vitals have normalized. Fever’s still high, but under control.”

Corazon exhaled, just barely.

Bepo sat beside him with a warm sigh. “She’s lucky you found her when you did.”

“I didn’t find her,” Corazon muttered, rubbing at his nose with the back of his hand. “She found me. I turned a corner and—bam. Face full of cinnamon girl.”

“…Cinnamon girl?” Penguin repeated under his breath, exchanging a look with Shachi.

Law raised a brow. “You didn’t see anyone else?”

Corazon shook his head. “Just her. Standing in the middle of the street. She looked confused. Pale. Barely upright. Then she fell into me.”

“She might’ve been looking for help,” Bepo said gently.

“Or trying to get somewhere,” Shachi added. “Didn’t look like she had anything on her, though. No bag. No coat.”

“Yeah,” Penguin muttered. “Just soaked and barely breathing. She definitely wasn’t out there sightseeing.”

Law crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “We’ll need to ask her questions once she wakes up. For now, let her rest.”

Corazon nodded, but his brows tugged together.

“…She smelled like bread, Law,” he said suddenly. “Even through the rain. Not just cinnamon. Dough. Yeast. Butter. She must’ve been cooking.”

Law gave him a sour look. Bread, ew.

“I’m saying,” Corazon added, defensively, “she might be a chef. Or worked in a bakery. Something happened to her. Maybe she got caught in the storm trying to escape something.”

Law didn’t argue. He just sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Look, I’m not patching up a cinnamon-scented mystery girl just for you to adopt her, you know.”

“Well, duh. She’s not a stray cat.”

“You sure?” Penguin teased. “You already brought her home and wrapped her in a blanket.”

Corazon opened his mouth, then sneezed again.

“Get back in bed,” Law said flatly.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re always ‘fine’ until you faint in the hallway.”

Corazon grumbled but sank further into the bench. Bepo gently patted his arm.

Inside the med bay, the girl lay curled under thick blankets, color slowly returning to her cheeks. She didn’t stir—but a small crease remained between her brows, like her dreams hadn’t quite let her go.

Corazon’s gaze lingered on the closed door.

“She looked scared,” he said quietly. “Even before she collapsed.”

Law followed his line of sight, arms crossed again.

“Then let’s make sure,” he murmured, “she has no reason to be anymore.”

A few hours passed after that.

And the Polar Tang hummed gently, cradled in quiet waters.

The storm outside had faded to a light drizzle, barely audible against the hull. Inside the infirmary, the harsh white lights had been dimmed, casting the room in a calmer, warmer tone.

She was still asleep.

But this time, it looked peaceful.

Her brow had smoothed out. Her breathing had evened, soft and steady. A faint flush returned to her cheeks, the fever no longer raging but resting, like embers banked in a hearth. Her damp clothes had long since been changed into one of the med bay’s clean shirts, slightly oversized, the collar dipping off one shoulder.

She looked… better. Human again. Real.

Law stepped in first, his clipboard in hand, though he didn’t bother pretending to take notes. Corazon followed, this time dry, and significantly less sneezy. He’d left the towel behind but still had a faint halo of frizz around his head from letting his hair air-dry in true stubborn fashion.

Neither of them said anything at first.

They just stood there, a comfortable silence settling between them. The kind that came after everything had gone wrong… but then slowly started to go right.

The kind they were used to.

Law glanced down at the sleeping woman, his gaze scanning her face for any lingering signs of distress. None.

He didn’t realize how much tenser he’d been until his shoulders eased.

“She’s recovering well,” he murmured, voice low to avoid waking her. “Temperature’s nearly normal. Her immune system’s fighting back.”

He paused.

“…She’s stronger than she looks.”

Corazon stood at the edge of the bed, one hand in his coat pocket, the other lightly tapping against his thigh. His gaze was steady.

And then—softly, thoughtfully—

“She’s pretty, huh?”

Law blinked. Looked at him. Then scowled.

“That’s not medically relevant.”

“I didn’t say it was.”

Corazon didn’t repeat himself.

He just tilted his head slightly, eyes never leaving her sleeping form. His voice wasn’t teasing or flirtatious. It was just… honest.

Law followed his gaze. He looked again. Properly this time.

And now that he wasn’t in surgeon mode—now that the fever had broken and she was no longer clinging to life—he saw it too.

There was something warm about her. Even asleep. Even still pale and recovering. The roundness of her face, the soft lines, the faint crinkle of her lashes. The way her lips curved, just barely, like she was dreaming about something sweet.

“Hmph,” Law muttered. “Still not medically relevant.”

Corazon smiled faintly, a hand brushing over his damp bangs.

“And yet you haven’t disagreed.”

Law gave him a look.

“I’m just saying,” Corazon shrugged, sheepishly.

The girl stirred slightly, shifting beneath the blankets. One hand peeked out from under the covers—small, fingers twitching slightly, reaching toward the empty air beside her like she was searching for something in a dream.

Law stepped forward automatically, leaning in to check her pulse again, but her breathing stayed steady.

“She’ll wake soon,” he said.

Corazon nodded, glancing toward the corner of the room. “You want me to set out something for her to eat? She’ll be starving.”

Law hesitated.

“…Something light.”

“You got it.”

Corazon turned to go, a hint of his usual lopsided smile returning to his face.

“I think she’s gonna be alright,” he said quietly, more certain this time.

Law didn’t answer.

Just stood there a moment longer, watching the cinnamon-scented stranger sleep as the storm finally passed.

[justsomerandomdemon]

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

ʏᴀɴ!ғᴀɴᴛᴀsʏ ᴀᴜ!sʜᴇᴅʟᴇᴛsᴋʏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

[ᴛʜɪs ɪs ʙᴀsᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ғᴀɴғɪᴄ ᴀɴᴅ ɪs ᴘᴏᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟ sᴘᴏɪʟᴇʀs/ᴀ ʀᴀɴᴅᴏᴍ ᴏɴᴇsʜᴏᴛ]

ɴᴏᴛᴇ : ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀs ᴏᴜᴛғɪᴛ ɪs ʙᴀsᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ ʟɪʟʏ ᴄᴏᴏᴋɪᴇ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴄʀᴋ

ʙᴀɴɴᴇʀ ᴅᴏᴇs ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

-ɴᴏɴ ᴄᴏɴsᴇɴsᴜᴀʟ ᴋɪssɪɴɢ/ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜɪɴɢ

-sʜᴇᴅʟᴇᴛsᴋʏ's ɪs ʟᴏᴡᴋᴇʏ ᴀ ʙɪᴛᴄʜ ʜᴇʀᴇ

The group was sat around the campfire, tired out of their minds from the constant running and fighting these past few days had been.

How annoying that they'd fallen into a magic dungeon and were now stuck wasting time trying to find a way out then being on the road to their next location.

Shedletsky sighed in annoyance, clawed hands twitching as he pressed on the wound he'd been inflicted with whilst distracted with another one of those were hounds.

The others were already asleep, gaining as much energy as they could before they'd need to leave this room.

It was his turn to keep watch tonight.

Footsteps started approaching from the hall, his winged ears twitching as he spared a small glance that way.

[Y/n] stood there a water satchel in her arms as she walked in.

She was on nightwatch with him too.

He turned around to not face her, trying to find anything to distract himself from her presence.

The hatred and resentment he held being conflicted with his own sappy feelings he'd been keeping at bay for so long.

It made him annoyed how much this affected him.

Her hands grazed over his back, making him shiver at her nails.

"I... I got you some water." she stated motioning her head to the water in her arms

"To clean your wound."

He stared at it then at her before begrudgingly accepting it, lifting up the bottom of his shirt to undo the bandage and switch it out.

There was a long silence between the two as he tried to clean his wound, struggling for an embarrassingly long time with just trying to get a good grasp on the bandage making him frustrated.

She held his hand softly, making him freeze, feathers fluffing up like a cat.

"Here, I'll help." without another word she started to wrap it around him, eyes not looking up at him but focused on the task at hand.

Oh why did you have to be so nice.

He could've brought himself to keep up that nasty attitude he held towards you had you grown to be equally as cold and cruel.

But no

Despite his attitude, despite the years of your banning you still remained the same as before if not even more recluse than ever.

You'd finished up with the bandaging, cutting off the excess as she started to put it away for later emergencies.

She was going to move away again.

With no plan in mind he lunged forward and wrapped you in his arms so suddenly you fell forward against his body in surprise.

Shit shit shit why did he do that, oh that was so stupid.

And yet despite all the scolding he was giving himself it didn't stop him from trailing his hands against the bare skin of your back and arms, talons tugging fairly roughly at the bandages that enveloped your arms and neck.

"Shedletsky-"

"Shut up, please..." way to go, what a smart thing to say Shed.

Why was he feeling this for you again, he hated it, hated you for having to come back, hated Builderman for banning you. Hated himself for allowing it everything he felt.

His hand trailed up to your face, cupping your chin in it as he stared at your face.

Still the same as before.

Your breaths were shallow and your heartbeat fast as he felt himself pulling closer, wings flapping slightly in anticipation.

"Sh-"

Without more thought he'd slammed his lips against yours, hands holding tightly onto your face and back as though you'd disappear into thin air.

To make things worse the position the two of you were currently in made things far more awkward, your legs spread on each side of his body as he sat between them kissing you so feverishly.

If anyone were to wake up now this would be hard to explain.

Your hand was pressed against his chest and the other awkwardly latched over his arm, twitching around as though trying to figure out what to do or grab.

Eventually he pulled away, needing air as a string of saliva followed between you two, your face absolutely flushed but not as much as his was at the moment.

Staring at your face wanting to continue more and more, doing nothing but kiss you like a lovesick drunkard.

He stopped himself as you continued to stare at him in shock and bewilderment.

He pushed away, standing up quickly and leaving the room without a word said, covering his mouth with his hand as he strolled briskly through the dark stone hallway feeling like an absolute dumbass.

He regretted how he acted like a needy bird for you. It was so embarrassing especially after how he'd acted towards you, he wouldn't doubt you'd want to talk to him about what the hell that was about.

Although...

He licked his lips and teeth, the taste of your mouth still lingering on his tongue.

God what he wouldn't give to have done that again though.

𝐓𝐫𝐲𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐏𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐲/𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐥

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐭 [𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐬𝐡𝐬𝐡]

[ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴡᴀs ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴍʏ sᴏɴᴀ ᴠᴇʀsɪᴏɴ ɪ ᴅɪᴅ ғᴏʀ ғᴜɴ]

ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʀᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴜʟsɪᴠʟʏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴏɴᴇsʜᴏᴛ

ʏᴀʜ- ᴜʜ ʏᴇᴀʜ ᴛʜᴀᴛs ᴀʟʟ ɢᴀɴɢ

[thatoneautisticshark]

This, which I have been working on for ages and couldn't get right. They don't even fully fuck at the end lol.

But virgin soap gets his first dildo, and is feeling religious guilt. Price and Ghost help.

TW Sexually explicit, anxiety, religious guilt.

Johnny could hear his heartbeat in his ears as he carried the parcel through the halls. He felt like everyone knew exactly what was in the parcel, and everyone was staring.

Everyone knew good little Christian boy Johnny had bought a dildo.

He could feel his face heating up and had never been so grateful to see his door, quickly walking in and slamming the door.

He chucked the parcel on his bed, staring at it. He really bought this, and it was fine. It was natural to need release.

He tore open the parcel, revealing the unassuming black box, and jumped back as if he'd been burned.

Nope nope nope.

Never mind, he couldn't fucking do this.

He took about ten minutes to breath resting his head against the wall. He was being silly. He knew that.

But… he just couldn't.

But he also spent 60 bucks on that. He wasn't going to waste it. He needed to stop being a chicken, if only for the sake of his money.

He grabbed the box, ignoring his hands shaking and opened one of the flaps and into his hands fell… a small bottle of lube.

Strawberry flavoured.

Johnny squeaked, whole face turning bright red as he instinctively threw the bottle, it bouncing on his bed.

Strawberry flavoured? It was fucking flavoured? What the fuck? Oh he was going to hell for sure. As the lube came to a halt, he saw the note attached “A bonus because you are a fruit :)”

Johnny flushed, squeaking louder. Oh god, the lube was mocking him.

The lube knew.

He slid down the wall head between his knees, he needed to calm down. He wasn't going to die, no matter what his heart rate may suggest.

It was okay.It was lube and a dildo.

He nearly died on the regular for crying out loud, this was fine. It was no big deal.He grabbed the box. Pulling out the solid black dildo, feeling the weight in his hands, the silicon.

And nope no. He fucking couldn't. He shoved it and the lube away in a drawer if his night stand, burying his face in the pillow.

“Oh fuck I can't do this.”

It took him two days and about 60 different google searches and articles to finally pull it out again, setting it on his bed.

As he actually looked at it, he blinked in total disbelief. “For beginners? For beginners are they on fucking drugs this is huge … how am I even meant to… huh?”

Johnny sat on the bed, burying his head in his knees as tears streaked his face. He couldn't fucking do this, it was so wrong, he was guaranting himself a spot in hell by doing this.

God he was such a baby, a big strong military man fucking sobbing over a dildo!

He suddenly heard a knock on his door. “Johnny? Are you okay?”

Oh fuck that was Ghost.

“Mactavish? What's wrong?” Price was with him? Oh shit.

Johnny was so so glad he locked the door. He couldn't imagine his captain and Lieutenant walking in on this. Then he heard the door creaks open, and realised with absolute dread he in fact hadn't locked it.

And both of his bosses were walking in, on him sobbing on his head in front of a dildo. He couldn't move though, couldn't bring himself to sit up, to wipe his tears and tell them he was fine.

So instead he let his head drop against the pillows, still sobbing, albeit a little louder.

Price moved slowly into soaps field of vision. “Uhm… What happened son?” Soap heaved slightly still laying motionless on the bed and sobbing as he watched both Ghost and Prices eyes dart to the dildo.

Standing tall and proud on his pillow.

Ghost sat on the bed next to johnny, threading a hand into his mohawk. “Breathe Johnny. You're okay, what's going on?”

Johnny leaned into the hand, but continued to sob.

Price awkwardly patted his back “There there”

“God hates meeee!! He's gonna fucking smite me and I'm going to hell” Johnny burried his face back in the pillow, whole body shaking with sobs.

Ghosts voice came softer than Johnny had ever heard it. “God doesn't hate you, Johnny. What's wrong? Why do you think you are going to hell?”

Johnny gulped, breath hitching “Because I'm gayyy…. And like men … and I'm gonna burn in hell because I bought a dildooooo!”

His breath heaved again as he heard an inhale from one of the other men , but continues

”And it's a waste of money… b-because I can't even fucking … it's… I can'tttt it's confusing!” He heard an odd noise from Simon, but the hand in his hair didn't stop, and neither did Price patting his back.

Johnny was slowly beginning to register what he actually just said, to both his superiors, but didn't have time to back track before Simon was talking.

“Okay.. uh So… You've never done anything like this before… and you bought the dildo, but now you are feeling religious guilt… and you can't work out how to use it?”

Johnny flushed a bright red but nodded, slowly painstakingly lifting his head so he could see the other two men.

They were looking at each other silently communicating, something Johnny had always found exceedingly impressive -and hot. The way they just had to look at one another to decide something had always impressed Johnny.

However he was finding it much less cool when it was about him, he had no clue what they were working out about him, and it was humiliating and incredibly anxiety inducing.

Finally price silently nodded at Simon and the large man turned to Johnny, looking him dead in the eyes. “We could teach you Johnny, if you wanted.” Simon offered voice still that soft gentle tone as if Johnny would break if he was louder.

Then his brain suddenly caught up with what was said. He turned bright red, spluttering. They would help? What!?He wouldn't be against it, he loved both of them, and they were hot as fuck.

He really couldn't work this out alone. But where the hell did that offer come from?

Price seemed to take his silence as discomfort, moving to sit on the bed.

“Or we can just forget any of this happened if yo-”

Johnny scrambled to cut him off. “No no no no. I-...I want …” He gulped ..hoping that got the point across, without him having to explicitly say it.

Simon grinned, or atleast Johnny was fairly sure he did, because of the crinkle of his eyes. Something Johnny loved to pick up on.

Price moved a hand to gently stroke Johnny's thigh, nothing sexual about it, a simple bit of comfort, but it still made Johnny's dick throb.

“Okay… we'll discuss a few boundaries things and then start okay?”

Johnny nodded slowly sitting up, still bright pink, but he sat up anyways, squeaking as Ghost wrapped an arm round him, pulling him flush against that hot muscled chest.

Prices hands gently moved to the Scots hips, and he pressed a kiss to others forehead.

Simon rested his forehead against the back Johnny's head. “D’ye know safe words? Actually I'll assume not. Basically a way to say how you are feeling. So we'll just go traffic light okay”

Johnny frowned “What's the traffic light?” he murmured soft and uncertain.

Price smiled softly “It's a system of simple words to tell us how you are doing. So red is stop, Yellow is slow down, or take a break. Let you get your bearings, and green is all good.”

The captain gently rubbed his hands all up Johnny's torso, tough hands massaging the tension out of his muscles, letting the scot process.

Johnny nodded, committing it to memory, trying to calm his nerves, he knew he was okay, he trusted these two with his life, he could trust them with his virginity and arsehole.

He slowly relaxed against the chest of his lieutenant, leaning into the hands feeling up his body. It was okay, he knew this.

Simons deeper voice rumbled again, and Johnny could feel the chest under him vibrate. “If you say stop, we'll stop okay? Any time, no matter what. We want it to be good for you, alright love?”

And Johnny would be lying if he said that pet name didn't go right to his dick, the care and sweetness, while talking about fucking him, he nodded and felt himself being gently pushed down against the bed.

Price shifted gently placing pillows around Johnny..and then he placed a gentle kiss on his lips, before pulling back to watch the others reaction.

Johnny felt his whole face flush a bright pink, eyes blowing wide and mouth hanging open dumbly.

He had been kissed.

Kissed.

By Price! His hot arse captain. Price huffed slightly. “That okay lovie?”

He questioned softly while grabbing Soaps dildo and the strawberry lube, placing the dildo on the table, and the lube in Simon's hand.

Simon, who Johnny suddenly processed, had his mask off! Simon was completely bare faced, and he couldn't work out if Simon was pretty or hot. He was both so rugged and tough, with pretty curls and his soft eyes.

And Johnny swore if there was a heaven he was in it. Big gentle hands, he couldn't even tell who tugged his shirt over his head, and Simon dove down peppering gentle kisses all over Johnny's chest.

Johnny's head fell back against the pillows, a loud moan escaping his lips at the feeling the gentle kisses slowly turning more open mouthed and wet, Prices hand still on his hips.

It was already so so much, but it was …. Amazing. It felt so good he could barely register what was happening as hands roamed his skin, nails scraping and fingers squeezing.

Simon smirked as he took a nipple into his mouth, causing the Scots hips to buck up, and body tense.

Johnny was brought slightly back to reality by Prices hand finding his hair, grabbing but not yanking. Gently stroking it back. “Mouthy isn't Simon? Has an oral fixation I swear”

The normalcy of it could have made Johnny sob with relief, it was the men.he was comfortable with, and they were acting the same as always. It was so comfortable and safe.

Johnny barely got out an affirming hum, pressing his face against the hand in his hair, much like a cat. Ghost cooed softly placing wet, sloppy kisses down the Scots chest, stopping near the band of his trousers when the man under him tensed.

“Okay, Johnny? Can I keep going?”Johnny slowly nodded, uncertainly, although some of his fear disappeared once price tilted his head up, gently kissing him.

His lips moved clumsily bumping against prices, teeth gnashing slightly, until Price pulled back, still gently cupping Soaps jaw. “Lovie, have … have you ever kissed anyone?”

Johnny felt a bright red blush creeping up his face as he quickly shook his head.

Price's expression just softened even more. “Right. Just relax, let me kiss you, your lips will move naturally okay?”

Johnny nodded as those wonderful warm lips collided with his again, His captains tongue tracing his lips and hand cupping his face as if he were precious.

He had entirely forgotten about Simon until a warm heat engulfed his dick and his hips bucked up. He barely registered the slight gagging noise from below him, a guttural moan escaping his mouth.

He had never felt anything like that before it was so so hot. It felt amazing but weird.He was just getting his bearings slightly back, cracking his eyes open to see Simon, looking up at him through his lashes.

And then the fucking cunt hollowed his cheeks and sucked. Johnny's vision went white, eyes rolling back. He really felt Simon was attempting to suck his soul out through his dick.

He rolled over, a bit overwhelmed with sensations, burying his face in what he thought was a pillow, and quickly worked out was Price's thigh.

A warm hand came to rest in his hair again, and Price gently lifted his head. “colour, darling?"

Colour?

Johnny blinked dumbly at him, confused.

A thumb was gently rubbed along the bone under his eye. “Your colour love. Green, red or yellow” He clarified.

“Uhm..g-green.. it…it feels good” Johnny stuttered out, hiding his blushing face, as

Price cooed for communicating.

Johnny didn't think he'd ever been praised so much for talking. It was so overwhelming but so sweet.

He carefully cracked his eyes open looking down, and the sight made his dick throb. Simons hands were braced on the Scots thighs, and he was bobbing his head with fever.

He seemed to sense the gaze on him, looking up and making eye contact, directly while continuing to suck, before swallow Johnny all the way, nose buried in the dark curly pubes.

Johnny squeaked, cumming harder than he ever had before, cumming before he even realised he was. He buried his face in Price's thigh, moaning as waves of pleasure crashed over him.

He made incoherent noises, begging… for something, he didn't really know what he was begging for.

“Fuck … fuck… please..”

Price soothed him, letting him catch his breath until he finally looked down at Simon. Simon who had a mouth full of Johnny's cum, and was leaning up to kiss price with it.

Oh fuck.

His dick gave a valiant throb, even though there was no way in hell he could continue going. That was hot.

Price eagerly gulping down his cum, from Simons mouth, murmuring about how good it was.

God could get fucked, Johnny decided. He didn't give a shit was magical sky daddy felt, he evidently had never got his dick sucked like this.