#BOI SUN WENT OFF THE RAILS IN THIS ONE-

[rayofmisfortune]

BRINGING IT BACK Y'ALL

SUN 👏 NEEDS 👏 THERAPY 👏

[samaraxmorgan]

Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time We Went To The County Fair”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: pure fluff, frenemies dynamic, emetophobics be cautious (no one actually gets sick it’s just mentioned), Sukuna is trying so hard to be nice

Word Count: 2.89k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

Sukuna always tries to give off the vibe that he’s too big and bad for anything. Everything is beneath him, everyone is merely a nuisance, and this Ferris wheel in particular is just too bland and boring for his tastes.

He acts like you held a gun to his head and forced him to come with you to the fair, but you really didn’t; if anything he forced you to let him tag along. You just happened to see a flyer in the mailbox and brought up that you were planning to go and he could tag along if he wanted to, the last thing you expected was for him to immediately start lacing up his boots and stuff his wallet into the pocket of his ripped black jeans, asking you a nonchalant “You ready?” not even a minute after you suggested it.

And now here you are, a decent train ride later and you’re at the top of the Ferris wheel sitting across from each other, looking down at the colorful lights of food stalls and amusement rides below you. You wanted to go on the Ferris wheel first since the sun is beginning to set, the sky turning shades of pink and orange as a gentle breeze chills the evening air.

Sukuna’s gruff and uninterested voice breaks the peaceful silence, “You could’ve looked out the window at home for free.”

You’re scooted to the edge of your little cart, elbows perched on the rusty metal railing and your cheek rested on your palm, looking longingly between the colorful lights of the roller coasters down below and the changing hues of the sky, “The view’s not this pretty at home.”

All he can respond with is a hum, his arms stretched out across the railing behind him as he leans his back against the hard metal wall of the gently swinging cart. From the corner of your eye you’d swear you could see him watching you, but when you shift your gaze towards him his head has already turned to look down towards the carnival beneath you.

He outstretches his arm and points toward one of the rides, colorful lights spotted around the outside of its spaceship style design begin to transform into streams of light as the ride starts to spin and twirl around, “We’re doing that one next, too fuckin’ boring just sitting around.”

You turn your body towards him and give him a sarcastic grin, “What if all the spinning makes me sick?”

He scoffs, gently kicking your leg across from him with his combat boot, “If you throw up I’m pretending that I don’t know you.”

“Boo.” You roll your eyes at him and look back towards the fair as the Ferris wheel begins to spin. You reach your arm out of the cart and point at a ride in the distance, a large boat shaped contraption swinging back and forth before turning completely upside down, the passengers' screams echoing through the open air, “Would you go on that one?”

He gives you a sly grin, “Only if you go on it too, you didn't drag me along just to watch, did you?”

“I didn’t drag you here, you might as well have begged to come with me.”

“Oh fuckin’ please,” He leans towards you, propping his elbows on his knees and looking up at you, “You gave me those ‘lil puppy dog eyes when you showed me the flyer.” He mimics a dramatic pout, making you groan and press your sneaker onto his chest to push him away.

“You’re unbearable.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

The metal steps creak below both of your feet as you and Sukuna step into the spaceship ride; the walls are round and covered in separate metal panels for each person to stand with their back against, and in the middle of the ride there’s a booth for the operator with large buttons and levers. You and Sukuna find two open panels on the wall and stand in front of them as the doors to the ride slide shut, leaving you both and everyone else blocked off from the festivities going on outside.

The operator looks bored as they flip a switch above their head, the lights dying off before you hear the clicking sound of buttons being pushed, rainbow lights streaming along the ceiling in swirling patterns above your head. Blaring loud techno music starts to blast from massive speakers in the operator’s booth as you feel your balance start to waver. Within seconds everyone’s backs are slammed into the wall, fits of giggles and startled screams surrounding you in the ride.

You turn your head to look at Sukuna and he’s already grinning at you, he tries to yell something to you but the music is far too loud to hear him. You open your mouth to yell “What?!” but instead a yelp is ripped from your chest as your entire body slides up the wall. He points up towards you and laughs, you try to kick him in the shoulder but the pressure of the ride spinning is keeping you effectively plastered to the wall, hardly able to move at all.

Sukuna, on the other hand, is somehow barely affected by it; deciding that it’s time to show off as he plants his palms onto the wall behind him and bends his knees to be completely off the ground. He stumbles back slightly on his first attempt to push himself up, but by the second try he’s crouching completely upright on the wall.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You scream out to him, but he can hardly hear you over the loud music and playful screams of everyone on the ride.

He’s got a massive grin plastered on his face as he stands to his full height so casually, as if the pressure of gravity just doesn’t affect him, taking a broad step over your stiff body to stand with his large combat boots on either side of your hips. He takes a knee over you, wrapping one of his hands around the back of your neck and the other behind the small of your back, leaning forward and yelling into your ear.

“You’re coming with me.”

It feels like you’re going to fly back into the wall as he pulls you into his arms, his strong grip keeping your body flush against his as you try to raise your arms enough to wrap them around his neck.

“You’re insane! Put me down!”

You can feel his breathy laughter on the crook of your neck as he lifts you up to stand with him on the wall, his hands never loosening their protective grip on you even as your feet plant themselves on the wall. He’s holding you so close, you’re not sure if your head is spinning more from him or the carnival ride. Your arms are wrapped tightly around his neck, your head pressed flush against his broad chest and tilted up towards the flickering lights adorning the ceiling.

“Not so bad, see?” You can hear the grin in his voice, his lips brushing against your ear while he speaks to you, “Not gonna drop you, calm down.”

Can he feel how fast my heart is beating?

The pressure in your head starts to feel relieved, but at the cost of your balance as you stumble forward. Sukuna completely wraps his arm around your waist and lifts you off your feet, taking long strides backwards off the wall and back onto the floor as the ride slows to a gradual stop.

“Hey!” The operator is screaming over the music as the large doors slide back open, “You two! Off!”

Sukuna chuckles into your ear as he drops you onto your feet, “Oops.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

“I can’t take you anywhere-“

“Ugh, how was I supposed to know that guy would be such a pussy?”

“Sukuna!” You slap his arm, “You’re gonna get us kicked out!”

He just huffs and rolls his eyes, his arms crossed over his chest as you both walk side by side through the fair. You knew he was nothing but trouble, and you feel a little stupid for assuming he wouldn’t drag you down into his bullshit with him, but you’re stuck with him now; at least until your lease is up. Maybe you shouldn’t invite him out with you anywhere after this, but when you glance up at his stupid grumpy expression you get butterflies.

With a face like that it’s no wonder he gets away with anything.

He’s so… annoying. That’s what you like to tell yourself; it’s annoying that you can’t stay mad at him, that he gives you that smirk that makes your heart race, that he held you like that on the carnival ride. He drives you insane in all the best and worst ways, either waking you up in the middle of the night by being loud and obnoxious coming home drunk from a concert, or making you go crazy wishing he was home with you while he was out with his friends.

“Are you even fuckin’ listening?” He snaps you out of your trance.

“No.” You huff, breaking your gaze from his. Did you doze off while staring at him?

“Brat,” He wraps his fingers around your wrist and pulls you towards a pop up stall, the stall walls lined with balloons and stuffed animals, “You beat me in this and I’ll… behave for the next one.”

You scoff at him, “No you won’t.”

A small smile creeps onto the corners of his lips, “… Yeah you’re right.” You roll your eyes and turn away from him, but he sidesteps in front of you, leaning down to match your height, “Tell you what, let’s make a bet.”

“That’s a terrible idea.”

He smirks, “Winner picks out a tattoo for the loser.”

You laugh right in his face, “Absolutely fucking not!”

“What?” He gives you an exaggerated pout, “You don’t trust me?”

You cross your arms and glare up at him, “You would make me get some kind of gang tattoo.” You say sarcastically.

He mutters under his breath, “Shit, am I that predictable?”

“Sukuna!” You kick him in the shin.

“Fine, fine. Piercing.”

You look over at the plastic machine guns mounted onto the edge of the stall, noting a toppled over “out of order” sign next to the red gun. Maybe it’s a bad idea to humor him, but you know damn well he’d pick that red gun over the baby pink ones surrounding it, you might be able to play dirty if he hasn’t noticed the sign that fell over.

A grin paints your lips as you look back at him, “You’re on.”

His head cocks to the side slightly, “Really?” He looks genuinely surprised, but definitely not disappointed, “Shit, that was easy.”

He strides over to the stall, planting himself right in front of the red gun, exactly where you want him. You suppress your smile as much as you can as you walk up beside him, wrapping your finger around the trigger of the pink gun next to him. He’s looking down at you so cocky as the game attendant counts down for you both to start.

“Three!”

“You know…” He leans down towards you to speak into your ear.

“Two!”

“I know a guy who does eyelid piercings.” He states smugly.

“One!”

Like clockwork, you start peppering through the balloons while his gun immediately jams.

His brows furrow in frustration and you look towards him, giving him a mischievous smirk, “You’ll have to give me his number.”

As the game comes to a fast end, you learn that Sukuna is such a sore loser, grumbling about how that was “fucking rigged” and that you’re “a dirty little cheater,” but you couldn’t wipe the smile off your face if you tried. You doubt he’ll hold up his end of the bet, and you’re not really that concerned about it to be honest, that frustrated look on his face is more than enough of a prize.

“Yeah yeah,” You giggle, “I’m just the worst huh? I’m gonna run to the bathroom, how about you win me something while I’m gone?”

He shoots a glare down at you, “No promises.”

“Oh yeah, because you fucking suck at these games, right?” Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth in a futile attempt to keep a straight face, you just can’t help but smile, it’s a nice change of pace for you to be the one getting on his nerves for once.

“Such a fuckin’ brat.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Something about Sukuna is suspicious when you meet him back at the games. His grin has returned once again and he’s holding one of his hands behind his back. His eyes light up when they catch yours, taking long strides to meet with you.

He leans down to be eye level with you, keeping his hand tucked away behind him, “Close your eyes.”

“You didn’t…” You look up to his eyes but his gaze flickers away from you.

“Shut up. Close your eyes and give me your hand.”

You let out a sigh, shutting your eyes and holding your hand out in front of you. Your brows furrow in confusion as something cold and squishy lands in your palm, “What the fuck…?”

“You know how you said you wanted a pet?”

You open your eyes and are greeted with… a goldfish. A little tied off plastic baggie dripping condensation onto your skin as the tiny fish swims in panicked circles, “Sukuna!”

“What?” He stands up straight, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “I thought you’d like it.”

“When I said I wanted a pet I meant, like, a dog!”

He nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders, “Well you won’t let me get a cane corso, so-“

“Because they’re a hundred and fifty pounds.” You mutter over him.

“Say hello to Brat Junior.”

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.”

He’s definitely not kidding if the grin on his face is saying anything, he takes a step forward and pokes the bag, watching the fish squirm inside, “He’s got your attitude.”

“Oh my god,” You rub your temple with your free hand, “We need to go get a fish tank.”

“We’ve got bowls at the house.”

“No! We are not mistreating this fish, asshole.”

“Don’t call him fish, he has a name.” He declares sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest.

You mutter curses under your breath, “Brat Junior needs a tank. A real tank, with a filter.” You pull Sukuna by the sleeve of his shirt, dragging him along behind you, “There’s a pet store around the corner, let’s go before they close. And you’re paying.”

“Hey, why am I paying for this shit? It’s your pet.”

“It was your stupid idea!”

You both leave the loud chaos of the fair, walking along the quiet sidewalks to the pet store. The skies have gone dark now, the moon making itself at home above you as you cradle your beloved Brat Junior in both of your palms, trying to keep the water in his bag from swaying too much.

You and Sukuna bicker the whole walk there until you make it to the sliding glass doors of the pet store, quiet music playing through the speakers as you walk across the shiny white floors to the fish section. You both split up so he can pick up a tank while you sort through food, but shortly after he walked away he’s already making his way back to you.

“We’re gonna have to flush Brat Junior.” He says plainly.

You defensively clutch the fish close to your chest, “Absolutely not!”

He rests his elbow on one of the shelves lining the wall, leaning his side against it, “Then you’re paying for half of the fish tank.”

Your brows furrow in confusion, “You broke now?”

“Lady at the counter said he’ll get,” He straightens his fingers on each hand, placing them together like a prayer before parting them about a foot away from each other, “This big.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“I wish I was joking, the tank is $600.”

You blow a raspberry, slumping your back against the wall and looking down at the goldfish in your palms. You’re silent for a moment, but then you let out a reluctant sigh, “I’ll pay half, but you’re carrying it on the train ride home.”

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You hold your apartment door open, watching Sukuna maneuver the giant 40 gallon fish tank through the small doorway, “Got it?”

He grunts in annoyance, “A little help would be nice.”

“Ooh, about that,” You hold the little plastic baggie up in your palm, “My hands are full with the baby.”

He blows his bangs out of his eyes, carrying the fish tank into the tiny apartment, “Should’ve fuckin’ flushed him.”

You let out a mock gasp, cupping the goldfish in both of your hands and holding it up to your face, cooing at it, “Did you hear that? Your father doesn’t love you.”

Sukuna placed the tank onto a long empty table against the wall before flopping on his back onto the couch. His eyes flicker between you and the fish for a moment, a faint smile creeping onto his lips.

“I knew you’d like that little fucker.”

A/N: Fun fact did u know that those fair fish grow to be 12 inches long? Unfortunately this fic is based on true events of when my boyfriend and I won TWO OF THEM at the fair and had to spend $600 on a fish tank for them (rip my wallet). Dividers by @adornedwithlight

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[charliemwrites]

As promised some time ago: Gaz!

The new house is… well, you don’t dislike it. It’s beautiful, already renovated while you were busy selling the old house. Just new, unfamiliar. You’re unaccustomed to the noises it makes, the shadows it casts, the echoes off the walls.

You’re not too proud to admit (to yourself and your dogs) that you’re a bit of a chicken the first couple weeks. Too many nights watching spooky media about people living in walls or stalking new tenants — despite Skipper’s best efforts. So you keep one or more of the dogs with you at all times, fingers in their fur and lights on as you go. Ghost has been especially tolerant, leaning against your leg when the sun goes down and the house feels too strange.

You’ve always been grateful for the peace of mind that four huge wolf-dogs brings, but never more than now. With several sets of teeth surrounding your bed and guarding your locked doors, they’ve made the transition so much easier on your nerves.

The new forest behind the house is also some cause for concern. The first day you brought them home, you went out by yourself for quick inspection of the yard and immediate area. Sharp-eyed looking for glass, metal, or anything else dubious.

You came back to four extremely grumpy pups and were basically bullied out of leaving them alone again. Skipper was especially huffy that night.

But things feel like they’re beginning to settle. You’ve gotten a bigger couch, bigger floor cushions. There’s a second story to this new house — or more of a half-floor really. A loft? It consists of the master bedroom, master bathroom, and a sort of open-spaced landing that you’re using as a satellite collection zone for toys.

Sometimes, when you’re on the couch, you’ll catch a bit of movement and get spooked by one of the boys staring from the railing that overlooks the den. Have fussed at wagging Johnny twice now for it.

Still, the transition to your new home has been as smooth as you could ask for with four giant, protective dogs. You miss the old place a bit; have the irrational fear that you’re going to miss another displaced dog in need of a home, but you try not to think about it.

Maybe you should have thought about it a little more.

One evening, you let the boys out for their pre-bed potty. There’s a cup of chamomile tea in your hand, a blanket wrapped tight around your shoulders. Winter will be setting in soon. It’s already cold enough to set your teeth on edge. Never mind that it’s been raining all day, only just letting up to light patter at sunset.

Commotion at the edge of the (much larger) yard catches your attention. All of your boys seem to be gathered around something. They’re not barking or growling, and from the dim porch light, you don’t see hackles raised but still. Anything that catches their attention is worth investigating.

Cursing under your breath, you set your mug aside, slip into some shoes, and snatch up your phone for the flashlight. It’s only when you’re halfway there that you remember to pray that it’s not something dead. Or dying. Or creepy.

“Please don’t let this be a spooky doll or something,” you whisper to yourself.

Skipper must hear you, because his head pops up. He doesn’t… look concerned. But he’s a dog, how would he know that something in the yard is of human concern?

He trots away from their little congregation to meet you, almost like he’s escorting you to whatever they’re gathered around. You realize why when the flashlight illuminates a ball of soaked fur.

“Oh,” you breathe, “oh no…”

You gently nudge Konig aside to kneel down, a dry sob bubbling up in the back of your throat when you hear a quiet, miserable mew. A pair of brilliant green eyes squint and shy from the light, wide and sad.

“Oh, baby,” you coo. “Please come here. C’mon.”

You slowly, carefully extend a hand. Palm up, just a couple fingers. You’re not as familiar with cats anymore, but you remember enough to know that there‘ll be no scooping it up, even if it needs help. It’ll have to come to you of its own accord.

Relief floods you when you get the briefest cursory sniffle, and then the kitty is bumping its head against your hand for a scritch. You take a moment to pet what you can, heart breaking a bit with each shiver in the cold.

You keep coaxing it closer, gentle words and patient petting, getting bolder with your touch. When it’s finally close enough, the faintest purr rattling in its chest, you decide to try.

Apart from a nervous glance, the cat remarkably tolerant about letting you wrap your now-wet blanket around it, then scooping it up.

“Oof, you’re a big kid, huh?” You mutter, pausing to get a better hold. The darkness and hunkering down to preserve body heat was deceptive. This cat feels huge. “That’s alright, I’m used to it.”

You breathe a huge sigh when you enter the house again. It’s toasty inside — or at least it feels that way after sitting in the cold rain for fifteen minutes.

The boys files in after you, politely shaking off at the door before stepping into the mudroom. (Another upgrade you’ve been extremely grateful for.

You pause, try to get your bearings. You’ve got four soaked dogs, one possibly hypothermic cat, and you.

Christ, sometimes you wish you had an extra pair of hands.

“Okay. Let’s get the heater first.”

It’s already going, so you just turn it up a bit more, warm enough to start drying everyone. Then you go to the cupboard, sparing an arm from your oversized bundle to extract a towel.

You cross back to the heater and sit down, gently nestling your cat-burrito into the well of your legs.

The same big green eyes blink up at you, another mewl comes from it.

“Hi,” you croon, “isn’t that better already? Much warmer in here.”

You present the towel for inspection, let it sniff and decide it’s non-threatening before gently wiping it along the clumped fur. The dogs, to your surprise, don’t crowd to investigate. Skipper stops by to give the cat a sniff, before ultimately flopping down against your hip. But the other three arrange themselves around you, watching, but giving you and the kitty some space.

Remarkably thoughtful of them, and you tell them as much, praising their good behavior. The kitty, in the meantime, just… stares. It’s been a long time since you interacted with one, but you don’t remember your grandma’s tabby being so…

“Can I help you, little one?” You ask, grinning when it blinks at you slowly. You brush a finger under its chin, grinning when its eyes go half-lidded and nearly cross. “You’re worse than my Johnny boy with the staring.”

You receive a huff for that and laugh softly, making kissy noises at him until his tail thumps against the absorbent floor mat.

The cat is back to staring, though, ears up. You hum and keep up the half-scratching, half-drying technique until its fur starts to fluff up and you can take proper stock of the animal you’ve just rescued.

You weren’t kidding about it being big. Biggest cat you’ve ever seen — you’d almost think it was wild if not for the sweet face. You’re sure you might have seen the breed somewhere before…

Maine coon, maybe? Or… Siberian something or other? It’s fluffy, that’s for sure. But even without all the fluff that’s beginning to poof out like a dirty cotton ball, it’s a big cat. Big enough to be an average dog.

You huff in amusement that more it dries out.

“You look like a little storm cloud,” you giggle. “Well, little being relative.”

You receive a more normal-sounding meow for that. It thrills you that it’s already sounding better. Less sad, for sure.

The purring even start up again, developing into a deep hum like a running motor. It’s instantly soothing, the same way listening to the dogs’ breathing is. It lulls you until you’re nearly dozing sitting up. Only the wet nose of Skipper against your cheek rousing you.

“Jesus, right,” you say, jolting. Take a drowsy look around. All the boys seem dry or mostly dry. The only damp spot left on your new feline friend seems to be the feet, which won’t take much longer. “Let’s get inside proper.”

You lock up the mudroom and turn the heater low again, then urge everyone into the den. The cat doesn’t even hesitate, threading cleverly between your moving legs as you shuffle to the kitchen.

You prep an extra bowl of food and leave it up for the cat where the dogs can’t get it. Give it one last stroke from head to tail before trudging for the bathroom.

Normally, you’d be more concerned about leaving a cat in a house full of dogs. But the boys proved already that they have no interest in hurting the cat, despite the earlier crowding. Figure there are plenty of places to hide if they do make the kitty uncomfortable regardless.

The hot shower only serves to thicken the drowsiness blanketing you, leaving you heavy-lidded and sluggish. You pull the curtain aside to the usual audience of huge eyes, a new pair among them — the cat perched on the bathroom sink.

When you lean to grab your towel, they stick their face close for a sniff and you pause, always patient for curious creatures. When the little nose gets too close to your mouth, you twist and drop a quick peck to its snout before leaning back. The flabbergasted look makes you laugh as you begin toweling off.

“What a funny little thing you are,” you coo. “Would you like to be mind.”

“Mrrrow!”

“Yeah, I made a good first showing, huh?”

You have absolutely zero supplies for a cat, but that’s a problem for tomorrow. Right now, you just want to climb into bed and conk out. Home-making and animal-saving takes a lot out of you.

As always, the furry procession to your room leaves you warm and happy. Johnny always the first to hop into bed, licking your shoulder when you climb in beside him. Konig takes your other side, much more willing to snuggle now that you have the California King mattress to accommodate your pack. Ghost licks at Skipper’s chin in the doorway, then jumps up to lie by your hip, cuddling Johnny.

Skipper comes up last, padding over to receive one last kiss from you before lying by your feet, on the side closest to the door. You’re less concerned about kicking him now with the extra room, and enjoy the heat for your toes.

You almost startle at the soft thump next to your head. Turn and blink to see big green eyes blinking down at you, a purr nearly rattling your brain.

“Oh, hi,” you murmur, “make yourself at home.”

The cat does just that, curling himself onto a pillow and pressing his forehead into your neck. You nearly melt as you flick off the light. It’s warm and quiet and dark, just the breathing of warm bodies and soft tap of rain.

“I love you all so much,” you whisper, fingers threading into Konig’s coat. “My loves.”

The house’s new echoes are still unfamiliar, so it’s just a product of being half-asleep that makes you think you hear voices in the middle of the night.

Main Story | Price pt. 2

Masterlist

[aiai0]

-please, please, please, let me get what I want-

Syn: reader notices that Sanji never flirts with her and can’t help but feel jealous whenever he shows affection towards Nami and Robin, a little silent treatment wouldnt hurt, right?

(Teeny weenie moment of smut but nothing too detailed)

A single sigh left your yearning lips. 

You could physically feel your heart sob every time you  had the unfortunate experience of becoming a witness to another one of Sanji's flirty moods. 

Of course, these moods were never directed towards you. Never ever.

You sat beside Franky, eyebrow twitching and bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Franky knew about your feelings.

Ever since you had joined the crew, you couldn't help but adore everything about the blonde cook. 

He was cute, he was sweet and he went above and beyond to protect the crew. 

Especially Nami and Robin. He’d of course protect you too but he’d never go to the same lengths. 

Why? Why couldn't he just channel a bit of that flirtatious energy, that you so clearly wanted, to you? 

"I don't get it.." you mumbled, crossing your arms and legs as you leaned against the railing of the ship, squinting your eyes at Sanji, who was serving Nami a cold drink with hearts in his eyes. 

Of course he'd go crazy at the sight of her in a bikini, with the sun complimenting her smooth skin. 

"Why don't you just tell him how you feel?" Franky questioned, strumming his small pink guitar. 

Rolling your eyes, you lightly punched his shoulder. He didn't get it. Sanji would just shoot you down. It was obvious he didn't like you in that way, why else would he ignore you in such a way? 

"Sanji only likes pretty girls like Nami and Robin-" 

"What are you talking about? You're suuuuuper hot!" Franky interrupted, earning a giggle out of you. 

"Sanji doesn't see that though." You groaned, leaning your head on his shoulder. 

“Just cut him off, lord knows I’m trying to.” Zoro chimed in, grumbling as his eyes remained shut and his arms crossed with his three swords at his side.

You were about to scold him, but something clicked in your head. It all made sense. 

“Yes! I’ll give him the silent treatment!” You jumped up, feeling a mischievous plot forming in your mind. 

“Oh boy..” Frankly mumbled. 

"Nami-swaaaan! Where are you going?!" You heard Snaji call out, practically skipping after the woman. 

You loved Nami, she was like a dear sister to you, but you couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy in your heart. 

She knew you liked him too. To be honest, you were sure all the strawhats, except Sanji, and possibly luffy,  knew of your feelings. It was painfully obvious. 

"Nami-swaan! Robin-chwaann! God, give me a break." You mocked him, pouting a little. 

Zoro chuckled at your reaction, although he was sleeping. What a truly odd man. 

Later into that night, you laid awake in your bed, fighting back the angry and annoyed tears that seemed to constantly threaten to spill. It was like he consumed your mind, almost every minute of every day. You found yourself daydreaming of the reality that could be. 

You hated it so much. 

You hated how much you wanted him, and how much he meant to you. But you were certain the feeling wasn’t mutual. 

Sighing, you got up and left your room, trudging towards the kitchen in your oversized off-the-shoulder t-shirt and no bottom. You were too frustrated and annoyed to even care about anyone seeing you in your panties. Hell, Franky walked around in his constantly. 

You just hoped it wouldn't be Brook who saw you. 

To your surprise, the kitchen was lit up, and a faint humming was heard from behind the door. You peeked in through the circular window, spotting the blonde cook still doing today's dishes and wiping down the table and counter. 

He was so dedicated to his job as the crew's cook, it made your heart skip a beat. 

But this wasn't the time to swoon over his charms. 

You were going to give him the silent treatment. Give him a taste of what it felt like to be you. 

Entering the kitchen, you kept a stoic expression and went straight for the alcohol cabinet, ignoring the guy who greeted you. 

"What are you doing up so late?" He asked, keeping his eyes glued to the dish filled sink. You slightly hoped he'd glance your way, see your revealing state and actually see you in a different light. 

You took multiple big swigs from one of Zoro's bottles, careless for the consequences that awaited this decision. 

You craved the burn and the buzz, something you stopped yourself from feeling ever since you joined the crew. If you were going to be a strawhat, you had to be vigilant and alert at all times, even if the others weren't. 

But not tonight. 

Tonight you wanted to drown your sorrows within the delightful liquid. 

"(Y/n)? What's gotten into you?" Sanji came up from behind you, snatching the bottle away and handing you a glass of water. 

"Hey! why can I be the only one who doesn't drink?" You whined, refusing the glass of cold water. 

He had some nerve trying to worry about you now after practically ignoring you for so long. 

"Because you don't drink. Somethings wrong with you. What's up?" He pressed on, determined to get to the bottom of your odd behaviour. 

Those eyes. You couldn't take your eyes away from his.

The way he looked down at you made you feel cared for. It put you in a trance, a spell that you felt would never wash away.

"I don't have to tell you anything, eyebrows." You replied, turning your head away from him. You wanted to get back to your room as fast as possible and bury yourself away from everything.

"Wha- eyebrows?!" He yelled, taking a step back from you to pout. 

You, in turn, stuck your tongue out at him, quickly snatching the bottle away from his disappointed grasp. 

You seemed like you were joking, and maybe it was the alcohol that had heightened your emotions, but you couldn't shake the ache in your heart. You felt like, with a single word from him, you'd crash and bawl your eyes out. 

It seemed silly, and maybe a little childish, but seeing the man you wanted, so much, flirt and dote over the girls you already thought were prettier than you, hurt. 

It hurt more than words could explain. 

Sanji took you by the hand, leading you to sit down at the dining table, sitting next to you with concern. You hadn't realise it yet, but he was wiping the tears you didn't even know were spilling. 

"C'mon, what's wrong?" He asked again, his voice soft and gentle as he took a seat next to you. 

You bit your tongue, maybe right now would be the best time to give him the cold shoulder, show him you were upset with him. 

Smacking his hand away, you took in a deep breathe

"I don't need to explain anything to you."

There was a moment of silence, and for a split second, you swore you saw a flicker of anger within those blue eyes of his. Your repeated words seemed to strike annoyance within him.

You refused to look at him. You didn't want to. Acting like you were mad at him made you feel bad beyond explanation. Especially when he stared at you with such a disappointed look.

"I just want to help you, (Y/n)." He finally broke the silence, returning the warmth of his hand back up to your cheek that you so harshly slapped away. 

Making eye contact, you leaned into his touch, placing your hand over his and closing your eyes before finally getting out the words you've always wanted to ask him,

"Do you... find me attractive..?" 

You could feel him tense up. A bad sign. 

Oh god. Did he really think you were that ugly..? 

Trying your hardest not to jump to conclusions, you waited for him to speak. Waited for him to clear your worries. 

But he never did. 

You fidgeted with the end of your shirt, feeling so embarrassed and slightly annoyed. 

"Attractive? Do I find you attractive?" He repeated your question in a hushed tone that made it seem like it was the most ridiculous question in the world. 

"I can't even begin to explain how I see you, (Y/n). Every time you walk into a room, it lights up. Every time you smile at me, my day becomes infinitely better. And you ask me if I find you attractive?" He laughed, covering the lower half of his face with his hand. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. Was he really saying these words? Words that you’ve longed to hear since the beginning of your pirate journey?

"I'd pick you in a room filled with women,” he took in a deep breath, “I pick you, (Y/n)." He finished, his face now inches away from yours. 

"Seeing you like this.. I don't think I can keep my hands to myself anymore." 

Without missing a beat, his lips connected with yours, exchanging hungry and sloppy kisses, his hands gripping your waist and sitting you down on his lap as he mumbled a 'c'mere' into the make out. 

You felt your body heat up, begging for more contact. You needed him. Your hands tangled into his blonde hair, running out of air but never distancing yourself from him. 

You had imagined this moment since you joined the crew, and now that it was actually happening, it felt like a surreal dream. 

His hands knew exactly where to find themselves, massaging your thighs, to gripping your hips, to squeezing your ass. 

You instinctively rubbed your core against the tent that had quickly formed in his pants, needy for more attention.

Sanji pulled away, a grin stretched across his face,

“As much as I want to fuck you on moss-head’s chair, let’s go back to my room.” He purred, face now buried in the crook of your neck. 

Giggling, you nodded your head, “oui, monsieur.”

[vinomino]

Next Door Dilf

When your apartment came with an added bonus.

Featuring: Togame.J x f!reader

Contents: mdni 18+, dilf!togame, age gap, cunnilingus, big dick!togame, unprotected sex, creampie

WC: 2.6K

Inspired by this → post

Trying to save money had you moving into a suspicious part of town. You found a one-bedroom apartment, that came with a bathtub, kitchen, and even a personal washer and dryer. The only part was the area the building was located in. Bad rumors, gangs, and fights surround the place, but you don't have the money to choose luxury. The owner even lowered the original rent for you because someone recently moved out. Signing the lease, he gave you the key, followed by a piece of advice, “Don’t stay out late at night, it's dangerous, especially for someone like you.” 

The first time you met your neighbor, was the day you were moving in. Heaving a cardboard box up the stairs when a pair of stronger arms lifted it away.  “You’re moving into 302 right?” The man asked. You paused for a second, “Oh– yes, I am. Thank you.” He proceeds to place all the boxes in the middle of the living room for you. You bow and thank him, pulling out a bill to pay him for his gratitude, he raises his hand, “No, no. I can’t take it, it’ll make me feel bad.” You nod, “Can I at least have your name?” 

“Togame Jo, I live next door in 303. See ya later.” With that, he retreated into his apartment. 

You unpacked and started to settle in. Setting up your alarm clock, you realized the batteries died. The sun sets in an hour, so you have time to make a quick run to the corner store. When you leave your apartment you see Togame leaning on the railing, smoking a cigarette. You nod your head at him before scurrying down the stairs. The cashier rings you up and you walk out the sliding doors of the store. Plastic bag in hand, you begin walking back. When you pass by an alleyway a few men approach you. 

“Never seen you around before.” “Why’d a babe like you move here?” “Wanna have some fun with me?” 

Ignoring their remarks, you speed-walk back to the complex building but a hand grabs your wrist, “Why’re you ignoring me~? C’mon, I don’t bite.” He filthily grins at you. Trying to yank your arm free, you shout, “Let go of me!” The guys behind him snicker, “Aye, she’s a feisty one even though she looks so innocent.” He tugs you forward into him, placing his hand against your back. You push at him as hard as you can which takes him off guard, letting you rip your arm away. “Tch– Hey I was being nice.” 

“Now, now…what do you guys think you’re doing? Hmm?” You hear sandals behind you, turning around, you see Togame. 

“Shit– Togame sir…we were just playing around!” The guy frets, raising his hands, “Swear.” He chuckles nervously. Togame pulls you behind him, you can smell tobacco on him.“Is that so? Then why does she look so scared…” He drawls, tapping his chin in question. “Get outta here.” The guy and his friends or whatever run, tails tucked between their legs. “I’m glad I went after you, it’s dangerous out alone at this time.” Togame smiles down at you. 

He walks you back and tells you to be more careful. As the weeks go by, whenever you leave and see him out smoking, you chat with him a bit. You tell him you moved for college and needed a cheap place to rent. Togame chuckles as he tells you to study hard. 

Even with the small talk, he didn’t talk much about himself, all you learned was that he lived in town all his life. Until one day you were returning from your classes when you saw a car in front of the building. Togame had a young teen by his side, he opened the door for the boy and patted his head. Standing on the sidewalk as he watches the car drive away, then he sees you walking towards him. “Hey, back so soon?” He waves his hand. 

“Yeah, classes ended early today…” You wonder who the boy was to him, a younger brother? Togame can sense your wonder, “You wanna ask me who that was right?” Snapping out of your thoughts, you look up at him, “Ah…no, I don’t want to dig into your personal life.” You wryly chuckle, rubbing the back of your neck. “Do you want some ramune?” He asks.

Now, you're seated on his couch as he digs through his fridge. Taking the time to look around the place, you notice that he is quite a sloppy person. Shirts and sweats were thrown over furniture and his trash bin was piling up a bit. He lived like a college boy even though he looked like he was in his late 30s. Togame places the glass bottle in front of you, “Thank you…” You pop the marble and sneak a glance at him already sipping the carbonated drink. “His name’s Toru,” Togame tells you that he had Toru way back when he was younger. Toru turned 13 and was in his first year in junior high school. Togame explains that Toru visited every other week, and while he didn’t have custody of Toru, his ex-girlfriend wanted their son to know who his dad was. “It seems I’ve chatted for too long,” the sun had set. “Sorry, if I talked your ear off.” 

You lay in your bed that night, remembering how solemn he looked when he talked about his son. He said it was an accident back then, but he still regrets not being as present as he should've been. Rolling on your side, you wonder if he is alright, considering the state of his apartment. The next day, you were taking out your trash, and he was standing there smoking again. He noticed you, “Taking out the trash?” 

Thinking for a second, “Why don’t you take yours out too?” You suggest. That catches him off guard and he chuckles, “Yeah, you're right, I should.” 

~

“What’s this?” Togame stares at the container you hold out for him to take.

“It’s curry, I made too much. It’ll go bad soon and I can’t finish it all.” You explain. 

He nods, accepting it, “Lucky me. I’ll give you back the container.” 

~

Togame’s starting to catch on since you can’t possibly keep making large amounts of food that you coincidentally can’t finish. But he doesn’t say anything, just smirking while he grabs the containers. Beef stew, fried rice, mille-feuille nabe, gratin, and even some cookies. While he enjoys all of them, he can’t help but question what your true intentions are. 

~

“So…why do you keep giving me food.” He hands back the empty cleaned containers. 

“No reason.” 

“Be honest.” 

You stay silent for a moment, “Okay, I’m worried about you.” 

“Worried? Me? Why?” Togame tilts his head, crossing his arms in front of him. 

You stare at him dumbfounded, “Have you seen the way you live? There isn’t a single fruit or vegetable in your fridge.” 

He scratches his head, “I eat out.” 

“That isn’t healthy either.” You retort, stepping back into the foyer, he leans against your doorframe. “What is it?” 

“Why don’t you just call me over, instead of giving me containers.” 

That did make sense, it would remove the need for packaging and cleaning. “Sure.” 

So the next afternoon, you ring his doorbell. “Be right there,” he groans while approaching his front door, questioning who it was. Togame opens it, “Oh. It’s you.” He’s shirtless, you can see how toned his abs were and his sweatpants were hanging dangerously low off his hips, giving you a little peek of his happy trail. You slam the door shut in his face, “Put some clothes on!” Your cheeks are heating up. You knew he was attractive the moment you first met, but you see some of your friends attractive as well and you had no intention of getting with them. But you can’t help the way your heart is pounding against your chest. 

You chew on a mushroom, Togame now has a white shirt on. He picks up a piece of beef with his chopsticks, “Why’s a young girl like you bein’ chummy with an old guy like me.” 

“I see my professors as my friends as well and they are much older than you.” 

“But they don’t sit at your dining table, eatin’ dinner with you.” 

“Then should I kick you out?”

“How mean.” He fake pouts. 

Togame sifts through channels on your couch as you wash the dishes. You sent him to go watch TV because you didn’t want him to break your dishes when he offered to wash for you. Focusing on scrubbing the sauce of a pan, you don’t notice that he’s behind you until your back hits his chest. You jolt, “Why are you behind me?!” Laughter rumbles in his chest at your reaction. “Didn’t your parents tell you to be careful when inviting guys into your place?” He trails a finger on the back of your neck, sending shivers throughout your entire body. 

“Why would that be a problem?” 

“Hmm…a little girl like yourself ought to be more careful.” 

“I’m not a little girl–” You swiftly turn around and he traps you between the counter and his body. “Togame?” 

The dark look in his emerald eyes makes you sweat a bit. “What are you doing…?” 

“Didn’t you want this to happen?” He says slowly into your ear, his bangs falling into his face when he leaned down. His hot breath makes you curl inward and whimper. “How cute…” Togame caresses your cheek. “I want to ruin you.” You stare up at him with wide eyes. 

Maybe you did want this to happen, your pants are off, somewhere on the tiles, and you don’t care, not when Togame’s tongue is inside you. You twitch on the kitchen counter, gripping his black locks as you buckle your hips against his face. “Togame– shit. Ah fuck…” Throwing your head back as you moan when he thumbs at your clit. His tongue licking against your folds and prodding into your cunt. You tug at his hair, “M’cumming!” He groans against you in response, quickening his movements, and in no time he has you gushing all over his face. Your body trembles from the aftermath of your high, he stands up. Slick glistening on his chin when he swoops in to lock your lips with his. You can taste yourself and he swallows up your whines hungrily. 

“So cheeky, bein’ nice to me n all that,” he murmured, hand coming up to idly toy with a strand of your hair, winding it around his finger. “I should thank you.” You blink away tears, raggedly breathing. Surging forward to kiss him again, his surprise at your action quickly became replaced by a deep hunger. His body was warm and solid against yours, he tongued you with skilled ease. Breaking the kiss to properly breathe, a string of saliva connected the two of you. The sight making your pussy throb. “Togame…” You whine, he shushes you. “Why don’t you call me Jo.” 

You gulp before shakily saying his name, “Jo…” He grins his approval, his name sounded so sweet on your lips that it made his cock throb against his sweats. Togame effortlessly picked you off the counter, strong hands under your ass, pressing you against his broad chest. You squeak and wrap your legs around his torso, he carries you like you weigh nothing. He walked into the open door of your bedroom, hastily dropping you down onto the mattress, a feral gleam in his eyes as he loomed over you. Togame kneels down on the bed between your legs, you prop yourself up on your elbows as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere in the room. 

“Jo.” You whine impatiently, he chuckled back.

“Eager, aren’t we?” He teased, his hands slowly trailing up your thighs, scoring the way your skin felt. Togame tore your shirt off, you hear the sound of fabric ripping. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna take good care of you.” His gaze darkened at the sight of your exposed flesh, the hunger growing into a relentless need.

Togame is big, everything about him is big. His cock stretched you out to the point it was painful, you can feel his tip prodding into your womb. Sniffling into your bed as he pounds you into oblivion, your tears soak the sheet from the amount of pleasure you were feeling. His breeder balls slap against your clit, making you tremble every time. “Fuck…” he curses from behind, “gripping me so fucking tight. You love getting stretched out by an older dick huh? Those college boys don’t fuck you well enough?” He taunts in a low and tantalizing tone. “Y-Yes!” You cry out. He lets out a laugh, “Good girl,” tightening his grip on your wrists that are placed behind your back. Togame watches as his dick glides in and out of you, a creamy ring forming around his base, and the way your ass jiggles when he bottoms out. 

A calloused hand grips one side of your hip to pull you back. You sob and kick your legs, drooling as he fucks the shape of his cock into your spongey walls, you’re certain he’s ruined every other dick for you. Togame lifts a leg and plants it beside you, allowing him to reach even deeper into you, making your eyes roll back into your skull. 

Togame’s certain your fucked out of your mind when you can’t say anything, but moan. This was just what he needed in his life, a tight pussy sucking him in, all his stress vanished the moment he sunk into you. He needs you in his life forever, he already fucked up his first chance at a family, but he’s going to treat you so well. Make you his little housewife, coming home to your cooking every night and fucking you every chance he can get. He’s sick of bringing his son into his crappy apartment, so he’ll put a ring on your finger, buy a nice house and Toru can stay overnight every weekend. Even though he’s been a crap man all his life, at this moment he promises he’s going to change. One of his fellow gang members back in the day made a business that’s currently doing well, maybe he can talk the guy into giving him a job. 

“Jo–” You turn your head against the bed to look at him, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

“Hmm?” 

“I wanna–I wanna see you…” You sniffle. He swears he just fell in love. Togame pulls out and flips you onto your back, your breasts bounce when you lay down. He’s pushing his cock right back into you, you hold your arms out, beckoning him closer. He obliges, lowering himself down on his elbows, and pressing his chest into yours. Body pressing firmly against you, trapping you underneath him. You sigh out at the feeling of his hot skin against yours. “S’good…” You slur, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Fuck–don’t do that.” He grunts when you unknowingly clench down on him. “Shit…” he groans, picking up the pace of his thrusts as he feels himself on the edge.

The sound of skin slapping echoes throughout the room, and sweat drips from his hair. You want him to cum, to fill you up, you need it so badly. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you clench down, eliciting a grunt from him. “Let go– I need to pull out–” 

“No! Wan’ it inside! Jo! Please! Inside!” You babble out. Before he can protest, he’s already spilling himself into your pussy, coating your walls. He bucks his hips against yours as he rides out his high. 

Togame doesn’t know whether you’re ensnarled in his web or if he’s caught in yours. 

a/n: this was supposed to be a little Drabble :| I need to focus on my other wips hnnnhgh

[arminsumi]

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒꒱ park fling

TOJI x f.reader

Overview; Toji met you at the park and just had to take you back to his car to show you a good time

Content; smut, dilf + tattooed Toji

Warnings; 🔞 mdni, smut, implied milk dad behavior (poor Megumi sorry m'boy)

Kinks; public sex (park), light breeding kink, hookup sex, implied age gap (20s ~ 30s), taking off condom (implied mutually consensual), creampie, car sex, dirty talk, a brief use of pns 'daddy' and 'good girl'

A/N; srry just eyerolling for toji so bad lately thought i'd squeeze out some more yummy content 💕

He was just someone you met at the park one day. All you knew about him was that he had a son and previously they were on a picnic together, catching up on life like they so rarely do.

It was the holidays. An especially bright sun cursed the summer sky, you constantly kept your hand held to the crown of your head to shade your squinting eyes from the harsh sun rays.

That tall, brooding man crossed your line of sight and immediately snapped up your attention. The way his tight black T-shirt defined his muscular physique made you clench your thighs together tightly. And when he spoke to you? You batted your eyes like crazy and gave him a cheeky, horny smile.

His greasy black hair reminded you of the bad boys you used to crush on back in high school. His bold tattoos were just the cherry on top. Speaking of cherries... he was clearly very interested in yours. "Wanna go someplace quieter?" he asked.

That deep, rolling voice of his went straight to the center of your brain, reverberated in your chest and travelled down south between your thighs, which he knew you were rubbing together because of him. He was sorely aware of the effect he had on girls like you.

After sending his son off down the block to the store for some lame, made-up excuse, Toji took you to his black, pretty Porsche and eagerly squeezed himself inside your needy, wet pussy as you sat pretty on his lap in the driver's seat. He angled your body so that he could get as deep as possible, and you happily let his calloused hands explore your body.

He let out handsome, deep groans while his nasty cock squeezed in and out of your pussyhole. The way he meanly rolled his hips up and roughly squeezed the crease of your hips made you feel like you were his toy — his newfound favorite, his pretty little fleshlight. Those snake green eyes narrowed in pleasure, cockhead skillfully bullying against your G-spot each time he plunged inside.

The condom bothered the two of you so much that you told him to just get rid of it already, so he peeled it off his cock. Sinking inside you raw sent him straight to heaven. And you? You could barely keep a coherent thought in your head. You could feel the texture of his cock, each kink and curve, and the angry veins that decorated his shaft.

He fucked you so good that you just threw your head back in bliss and voiced every bad girl desire in it.

" 'm gonna cum!" you cried, clawing at his meaty biceps. The pleasure was so good you rolled your eyes back and made a face like a pornstar, it made Toji chuckle.

"Cummin' f'me?"

"Mhm! 'm gonna cum, 'm gonna — ahhh, cumminggg!" you squealed, feeling your hole tighten up so much that you really felt the shape of his cock. It had a curve to it that just absolutely drove your pussy nuts.

"Aw, look at you." Toji cooed against your face, admiring your slutty expression as you orgasmed. "Daddy's gonna cum too, 'wanna take it inside like a good girl? Get that pretty pussy knocked up? Hm?"

You nodded and replied with such a frantic "Yes! Yes please! Knock me up!" that he chuckled. It felt so good to cum knowing that you wanted to get knocked up by him; this total stranger who you let rail you in his car even though you talked to him for only two hours, this daddy who already had a son. But hell, he didn't mind having another kid if it came from someone as cute as you.

He barely managed to get any words out before he came. "Ah — fuuuck, 'take it, take it all." he growled lowly in your ear. You felt him throbbing and pulsing, broad chest heaving; for a moment it felt like he was never gonna catch his breath again.

Stilling with an erotic groan, he kept a firm hold on your hips as if he was gonna go in for another round because, truthfully, it just felt too good to throw in the towel yet. Creamy white liquid dribbled out of your little loosened up hole.

Meanwhile, his son returned to find his dad not where he left him, so he scratched the back of his head and rung up his dad's phone. "Dad, where you at? Just up and fucking vanished again?" he sighed sarcastically.

Toji slipped himself out of you with a little pop sound. "Stay put, I'm coming back." he told Megumi.

Aw, he must have really cared about his son, because he drove back to the park to meet him. Of course, not without hastily stuffing another creampie up inside your hole and putting his number in your contacts.

[darkeralmond]

POOL BOY || J.F

Jeremiah Fisher x fem! Reader

synopsis: Y/N’s mother had an emergency meeting at the country club which leaves Y/N is home alone with the pool boy, Jeremiah. After working for hours with no breaks, you invite him to come inside to get some water.

warnings: smut 18+, oral sex, m! receiving, fem! receiving, fingering, praising

word count: 2.1k

A/N: I was scrolling on TikTok and a vid by @nick_grajeda popped up about them talking about their roleplay fantasies and one of them was pool boy. Jeremiah instantly came to mind so I went to working immediately. FIRST TIME I’VE WRITTEN SMUT IN FOREVER.

masterlist | request info

It was the middle of a hot July summer in Cousins. Your mom had important business to run at the country club down the road of your house, leaving you alone with your pool boy, Jeremiah Fisher.

He wasn’t a local like you. He only came during the summers with his family and family friends. Your mother hired him a few summers ago after she got the new position as head executive chef at the country club. For those past few summers he spent cleaning the pool, you’d watch as he did so occasionally sparking conversation here and there. He was older than you by a few months which fueled your desire to have him even more.

You convinced yourself that you wanted to be helpful and wash the dishes for your mother and father to come home to. There was a window right over the sink which overlooked the pool, so your helpful antics were only an excuse to watch Jeremiah as he worked.

He swept around the pool deck, getting rid of the dirt and leaves that fell from the trees that were planted right next to the pool for some reason. He had been out there for a couple hours just working. She knew he had to have been tired and hot from working in the direct sunlight for that long without a break. His white tank top had sweat stains on it due to him using the fabric as a towel to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

You knew this  was your chance to spark a conversation with him. You walked away from the sink and toward the sliding doors that lead out to the backyard. You walked out to your porch and leaned against the railing. “Jeremiah,” you called out to him. He didn’t even look up, he just kept sweeping, so you yelled a little louder. “Jeremiah!”

His head perked up and looked in your direction as he took an Airpod out of his ear. “Hey, Y/n!” He had a wide smile on his face. He lifted the sunglasses off his eyes and placed them on the top of his curly blonde hair. There were so many features of Jeremiah you loved, but your favorite had to either be his beautiful blue eyes that were the same color as the ocean. A close runner up was the dimples that appeared when he smiled.

“You’ve been working hard. You want to come in and get some water?” you asked, tilting your head. A slight breeze blew your hair back and caused your white skirt to ride up slightly, showing a glimpse of your upper thighs.

“Sure!” He placed the broom next to a poolside chair and made his way to the porch where you were. You smiled as you entered the kitchen and opened up the fridge. You grabbed an ice cold bottle of water and looked back at him.

He shut the door after he entered and used the bottom of his tank top to wipe his forehead again. This gave you a peak at his sun kissed abs. Your face flushed bright red as you took a quick glance at his stomach before looking away. You turned back around a second later hoping he hadn’t noticed you staring or your embarrassment. “Here you go!” You handed him his bottle, taking your time to admire his strong, lean arm muscles.

He thanked you before downing half of the water. The movement of his neck as he chugged. The water that dripped down his chin. It all felt too erotic for you to bear. You couldn’t stand to see him like this any longer. He placed the bottle back down on the kitchen island and wiped the excess water off his face with the back of his hand.

Most people when they sweat had an overbearing smell of body odor that oozed out of them. Not Jeremiah, he wasn’t like most people. He sweated the scent of his umber cologne, a nice mix of pine and musk, that mixed into an intoxicating aroma.

“Thanks for the water,” he said again, smiling at you. His mouth opened a little wider than it usually did and you could see one of his small canine teeth sticking out from underneath. You found yourself staring at his teeth for much too long. “Y/N?” Jeremiah tilted his head curiously. “Everything okay?” He sounded almost… concerned. You blinked and then realized that you must have zoned out and just stared at him like a creep.

You shook yourself mentally and tried not to look embarrassed, “Oh yeah, everything’s fine. Sorry.” You turned around and focused on what dishes you needed to finish before your mom got home.

He sighed and ran his hands through his wet dark blond curls, pushing back the sweaty locks. “Don’t worry about it,” he chuckled. “I don’t mind. I know my charm can be annoying sometimes.” He smiled softly and looked at you. You quickly glanced at him and blushed before turning back around and finishing the dishes.

‘How dare he say such things!’ You thought to yourself. You heard footsteps and turned your head to meet Jeremiah’s gaze. “I have a small question for you, Y/N.”  He raised a brow.

You nodded for him to ask his question. “What’s up?” you asked.

It was so quick you almost missed it. “Are you single?”

Your jaw dropped, “I am. What’s this about?” Did he really just ask me that? You thought as you struggled to keep the excitement off your face.

“Good,” he said, “because I’ve been wondering if you're ever gonna kiss me.”  Your jaw dropped more.

“Kiss you?!” you replied. “Why haven’t you asked me out yet?!”

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “I was kind of hoping you’d do it instead.” That was another thing you didn’t expect him to admit. You always assumed he wouldn’t give two shits if you did or didn’t ask him out. He seemed to be very confident and cocky that his charm would sweep you off your feet, but you weren’t sure how true his confidence was now.

You said, “Jeremiah-”

“You have no idea how much I want you, Y/N.”  He cut you off and stepped closer to you. Your heart began beating rapidly faster.

His eyes stared directly into yours. He was close enough you could feel his body heat emanating from him. His skin looked soft and tan compared to the pale complexion of the other men in Cousins. He was the best looking guy here, you were sure of it.

Without another thought, you said, “Prove it then.” Your voice was shaky. You hoped he would pick up on it. He smirked before leaning forward, closing the distance between you. His lips met yours in a gentle kiss, slowly moving to deepen it.

You wrapped your arms around his neck loosely while his hands held onto your waist. You leaned up against the kitchen counter while you kissed. He tasted sweet like honey with the faint taste of mint. You parted your lips slightly allowing him to push a tongue inside your mouth to explore further. After a moment, you started to move your hips in response to the kiss, pressing yourself against his shaft and making him groan slightly.

You broke the kiss to catch your breath. “Jeremiah,” you whimpered quietly as you parted lips once more. His fingers dug into your hips lightly before gently running up your sides, resting at the skin underneath your skirt.

You felt him smirk into the kiss causing goosebumps to form across your skin. Your hips rolled harder against his body, feeling his erection poking through his boxers. You pulled away from the kiss and took in a deep inhale of air.

“Do you want to do this?” you asked. You knew you wanted this. You wanted Jeremiah.

“Yes.” He reached down, pulling his zipper down. You watched as his pants dropped to the floor revealing his erection.

You got down on your knees against the hard wooden floor and pulled back your hair. You wrapped your finger around the base, slowly stroking him. You licked the tip before sucking it into your mouth.

Jeremiah let out a low moan followed by a sharp intake of air as his grip tightened on your shoulders. “Please...” he whispered. You took him into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down. Your tongue lapped at his engorged shaft. You took him deeper and faster with each stroke. “Slow down. I want this to last longer,” he begged.

You slowed your stroking pace like he had requested. You wanted to make him feel good, that was the whole point of a blow job. His fingers found themselves tasseled in your hair as groans escaped through his lips. Finally you heard his last groan before he met his climax in your mouth.

It hit the back of your throat causing you to cough and spit out his semen. “I’m sorry!” He immediately apologized.

You laughed, wiping the substance off your face. “You’re okay! Just shocked me.” You grabbed the water he was drinking earlier and drank some to get the flavor out of your mouth.

Jeremiah grabbed a towel from a drawer and wiped himself clean before pulling his boxers and shorts back up. He cleaned up the spot where you spit out his cum. “Now I wanna treat you right,” he said.

Your eyes widened as you met his. “What do you mean?” you asked.

“Like I said; I want to show you how serious I am.” He smirked before reaching out his hand to touch your cheek. “How about you get nice and comfortable on the island counter.”

You giggled before walking towards the island and climbing up onto it. The cool surface of the granite top felt soothing against your heated skin. “Okay.” You sat down facing him.

Jeremiah stepped closer to you and placed his hands on your thighs. He spread them open and brought his hands up your skirt. He grabbed a hold of the hem of your panties and slid them down. You bucked your hips to help him slip them off easier.

When they were off, he placed his head between your legs and took a couple licks at your clit. As he sucked on it gently, you closed your eyes and moaned loudly. It felt so good you wished you could stay here forever.

Your fingers found themselves gripping onto his golden curls. You pressed him closer to you in a desperate manner. Your head tilted back to look at the hanging light above you. Your breath hitched when he suddenly slipped one of his large fingers inside of you.

You were so wet that his finger slid in with ease. You gripped onto the edges of the counter tightly as you bit your bottom lip, trying to stop yourself from moaning out loud. “That feels so good, Jeremiah. Please don’t stop.”

He curled his finger inside you. “I know it does.” he replied in between quick strokes. The sensation was intense. You moaned louder as he made slow, circular movements with the tip of his warm, wet tongue. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, unable to keep them open any longer.

You accidentally knocked the paper towel roller off the counter. “Mmmm! Oh god, Jeremiah.” You felt your breathing become heavier. Your heartbeat was rapid, your mind clouded with lust, and all of your emotions were overwhelming your senses as you reached your peak.

You screamed his name out as you came undone completely. “Jesus Christ.” You panted heavily, trying desperately to regain your breath and calm your erratic heart.

He grinned smugly after hearing you scream his name, he pulled his face away from between your legs. You gazed into his blue eyes and saw lust there, but there was a hint of something else. Pure admiration.

After catching your breath, he stood upright and removed his fingers from your pussy. You were in disbelief that you just had sex with Jeremiah Fisher. It felt like a lucid dream.

You pulled your panties back up and hopped off the counter. You were in desperate need for a shower, but you didn’t want to wash Jeremiah's touch off your body. “So uh… do I need to give you a tip for your extra services?” You asked with a giggle.

“No because that would be prostitution,” he tapped the tip of your nose with his clean finger before walking over to the sink and began washing his hands.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed the dirty towel off the table. You began walking up the stairs. “I really enjoyed that.” You leaned over the railing.

Jeremiah smiled, “We should do that more often. Maybe we can try it on your bed next time.” You laughed as you continued running up the stairs.

[trashmouth-richie]

older! eddie x fem! reader

summary: when your bf skips town /‘s you can’t pay your rent, you put on your best outfit and knock on your landlord’s door begging for forgiveness

@eddiemunsons-missingnipple for the Eddie edit

w/c: 3.8k

t/w: 18+ ONLY —heavy smut, degrading, hair pulling, mouth fucking, choking, edging, switch!, daddy!kink

He was an asshole to extraordinary proportions. A life full of mold covered lemons would do that to a person. You were nervous, to approach him. But something told you he’d hear you out— listen to you. Maybe even be sympathetic to your pleads.

Yeah right.

As if he were made of anything but pure hatred. Toxicity swirled in his veins, his poisoned skin covered by decades worth of tattoos; all dark and sharp edged.

His peppered scruff balanced out his naturally soft eyes. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. A scowl that would make any resident of Forest Hills Trailer Park think twice about crossing. But you were left with no choice. When Trey had ditched town with the human bicycle Chrissy Cunningham, you were short on rent. Bills were tight, and you often ate in the dark, or by candle light. Anything to save a bit of money.

And that’s what led you here. Standing at your landlord’s door. Putting on an extra swipe of lipgloss, making sure to curl your hair, and wear a low cut tank top, the only push up bra you owned, and some cheap lashes from the mall— you knocked politely on the sun faded door. Hoping for some sort of a miracle that Mr. Munson would take pity on you.

One knock. Nothing.

Another. Still nothing.

It’s not until you are slapping your hand into the door that a voice behind you startles you nearly out of your too short skirt.

“What’d’ya need?” He’s covered in motor oil and grease, standing below you on the dirt and sparse grass covered ground, wiping his hands on a once red rag, a ring of sweat around his white tank top, bandana wrapped around his head, cigarette hanging gingerly from his slack lips.

He remembers the day you had moved in, it was freezing cold in early February. All by yourself, moving things one at a time in a shitty old Buick he hadn’t seen around since his high school days. He wanted to offer his help, something he didn’t give to anyone. But something about the way you smiled as he showed you around the dingy shithole of a trailer, voicing your opinions on what could be spruced up, made him hate you a little bit less.

Everyone in the park knew not to bother Eddie. He was a grumpy, mean son of a bitch and his patience was rail fucking thin. The Johnson’s dog went missing? No shit, he was the one who called animal control to come and pick it up, fucker had fleas and probably rabies. Can I paint the kitchen? Fuck no. The sink isn’t working at lot 8. Call a mechanic. And just for the annoyance he upped their rent $100.

Seeing you on his steps, dressed like that, sparkly tits, and your bra showing through your tank top had his dick twitching in his pants. Of course you were a smoke show, and he was honestly surprised to hear that ol’ what’s his face ran out on you with Chrissy Cuntingham. Her shit had been rode hard and put away wet more times that could be accounted for. Bitch still wore her homecoming tiara and had her green and orange pom poms in the back window of her car— despite the fact that graduation was more than 25 years ago. Worse than an alleycat, and smelling like one, Chrissy mostly kept herself busy by buying the minors alcohol or showing her many “party tricks” to the bachelors of the park. Sitting on his porch, smoking a joint like he did every night, Eddie took note of the black jeep that showed up every Thursday outside trailer 6, a graying head of suave douche boy hair could only be one person, Jason Carver.

He took note that your trailer, right next to his, was full of screaming and yelling when your boyfriend was home. A noise all too familiar in the trailer park, bouncing off Eddie’s ears like birds chirping.

But when he was gone? The window to your bedroom would be cracked open ever so slightly, propped open with the soft cover of Stephen King’s IT. The kitten purr of a vibrator and your delicate moans sang out to him. A siren amongst lonely fishermen, calling out to them in song of entrapment only to eat their souls, bodies never found amongst the dark sea bed. At first he thought it was wrong to listen, wrong to hear your pleasuring yourself, but he had sworn he heard his name on your lips, more than once. Fisting his cock angrily to your voice, your wet mouth, swollen lips from him sucking on them, pretty little pussy aching for him. He didn’t need playboys anymore when he had your face to imagine. And imagine he had.

What would your sweet pussy look like wrapped around his cock? Would you swallow his load down your throat if he asked, demanded you to? Sweet thing like you wouldn’t have to worry about anything if you were his. The choked laugh after he finishes all over his hand makes him shake his head at the idea. He didn’t know your age, old enough to be on your own but definitely not 45 like he was. Visions of your sugar plum tits bouncing in his face as you rode him on the itchy couch in his living room, lulled him to sleep most nights.

He saw a peek of a tattoo on your side when you were hanging clothes on the line. Your body drove him in, his eyes melting around your curves, the swell of your ass in the jean cut off shorts you wore. When you saw him staring you waved him over, a devilish grin on your lips, a wanting sparkle in your eye.

He knew your type, trouble. And oh fuck the trouble he would love to be in. He’d never volunteered to fix anyone's appliances. But your silky saccharine voice had him calling a mechanic in a few days time, would have been sooner if he could have tore his eyes away from your tanned legs, but he kept those extra days all to himself, whimpering at night with a sore cock your name on his breath. It had been seven months of you living next door, your vibrator turned on like clockwork every day your boyfriend left for work.

And now here you are. Looking at him with “fuck me” eyes and a glossy smile on your lips. Those same lips purring out pleasantries about how fuck face left you and you were needing an extension on rent. The swell of the summer sun hit your cheeks, making you glow like some love sick angel on his steps. He was fucked. And soon— you would be too.

“So what?” He tried to gamble, tried to keep his hard facade, “an extension and then what’s next? You’re gonna tell all your little friends that I give hand outs to the needy? Oh no doll, not today.”

He pushes his way around you and into his trailer, the pungent smell of too strong incense burns your nostrils as you hold the door from him shutting it.

“Please, Mr. Muns—.”

“Eddie,” he grumbles.

“Eddie, please— I’m begging you,” the glimmer of a tear welling in your eyes, your voice dipping low into an almost whisper as you made your way inside, shutting the door behind your back and feeling around for the lock, “I’ll do anything.”

Eyes dripping of sex appeal and lust, you tip your tongue to the center of your top lip, eyeing his tightened jeans and you swear you see his dick twitch beneath the stretched denim.

Cock at full alert he shakes his head, his head dipped low and eyeing you up and down, lip bit between his teeth. A low groan in his throat, he talks in a gritting whisper, “Don’t start something you can’t finish sweetheart.”

“Oh I plan on finishing, big boy,” you hum walking towards him, devilish grin planted on your lips, “I don’t think we’ll have a problem with that, will we daddy?”

Fuck. Not even touching you yet and Eddie is rock hard, he could probably cum if you asked him to. Thanking a higher power that he wasn’t twenty anymore, he’s got years of stamina built under his worn leather belt. “You’re about to write a check your ass can’t cash doll, you sure this is what you want?”

“stop talking,” you breath, inches from his lips, he can taste the peach flavored lipgloss on his tongue, “and fuck me.”

Not needing any more of an okay than that, Eddie turns you around in a swift motion, a gasp escapes your lungs and he catches you before you stumble over your heels. He drags your hips down into him, your ass round and luscious on his stiffened length. He rips the neck of your tank top open exposing the mountainous swell of your chest and your cheap K-Mart bra. Pinching your laced nipples between his rough fingers, he rolls them like joints as his hot mouth assaults your neck, painting you, he sucks bruises into your neck, licking them better with tiny flicks of his satanic tongue and ending in a bite, marking you as his.

Pushing your ass into him you can feel his cock. His achingly girthy length has you soaking your panties, dripping wet just for him. His smokey smell is mixed with sweat as you angle your neck back against his shoulder, moaning into him as he sucks like a vampire into your neck. His stubble rubbing against your skin.

“Eddie,” you moan breathless into the humid air of his trailer.

He groans, your body pushed tight against him has his head spinning, drunk off your touch. Grabbing your skirt and yanking upward. Dripping in anticipation, your panties could be wrung out, your arousal pooling from the center and beading slowly to the ground. He hisses and hums when his finger first skates along the slick of your panties with a schlick, ��fuck, all this for me doll?” He’s playing now, his thick fingers moving in lazy circles around your clit, your creamy pussy clenching desperately on nothing, you nod with a whimper.

“You gonna make all those pretty little noises I hear from your window once that dumbass you let fuck you leaves the house every day? Hmm? Didn’t think I could hear did you?” His cocky bravado kicks his cock up on your ass, sending a moan through your body as you rub deeper into him.

Quite the opposite actually

Purring into his neck you lick the expanse of skin he’s showcasing. Blowing hot on the slicked spit from your tongue, you rotate your hips to angle his fingers better on your clit, the sensitivity rolling like an electric current through your veins.

“I did it on purpose,” you confess breathlessly as Eddie’s fingers stop. “Watching you stare at me for months, I knew you’d touch yourself over me.”

Eddie groans gutturally twisting your body into the front door, back hitting the broken shades with a thud. In milliseconds he is on you, hot tongue lapping up your neck and biting with enough force to break skin. No time to be patient to have you undress for him, he shoves your skirt up tipping your panties clean off. Your exposed pussy shuddering with his blown breath on your slick core. His devilish eager tongue expertly licks and teases your clit. Humming with each jerk of your body as the sensitivity makes you squirm. Tongue wiggling inside of you like an eel, your hands are gripping his hair for dear life, yanking at the roots like you’re pulling weeds. Your thigh is on his shoulder, the leg on the ground begins to shake as your first orgasm rips like a tidal wave through you. Head thrown back against the door, moaning loud enough for the entire park to hear— you don’t care.

Your noises stir Eddie’s arousal even more. Whimpering as he grip him impossibly tighter he a broken, “fuck,” into your folds as he goes back for seconds, “you’re gonna get me into trouble, pussy so fucking sweet.” His lips are wet, your arrival shining like pretty lipgloss allover hos chin and lips. Already spent from the teasing and the damn breaking, Eddie hikes you up over his shoulder, your bare volumtuous ass bouncing with every step. He throws you onto a king sized bed, unmade and reeking of weed. Rolling papers on the night stand along with several lighters you aren’t given much time before Eddie kicks his jeans off, boxer briefs do him justice as his cock jumps to his belly when he unthreads his legs from them. Pearly beads of pre cup drip from the thick head.

Eddie leans forward and places a thick hand on your neck, your vision blurs and returns with each grip he threatens and releases his teeth biting your lips, slow drops of blood seep from his bites, he licks the wounds clean.

“Havent used rubbers since the 80’s and I won’t, so are you on the pill or are we ending this right now?”

“Pill,” you warble, chords of your neck strained against his hand.

“Thatta girl,” he praises, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, “I’m gonna fill you up full with my cum you’ll be leaking it out for hours.. maybe days.”

Tears sting your eyes at the thought of his glorious pearly cum deep in your walls painting them pretty, “please daddy, I need it.”

Eddie grins, “so needy baby, you want this cock?” he asks, flicking it through your folds, a noise resembling macaroni and cheese is blasts from your core, he groans deep, “so fucking wet,” his lip is almost bit in half with how he’s trying to hide his excitement, “I’m gonna wreck this sweet pussy so you won’t be able to walk home.”

Whimpering like a bitch in heat, Eddie flips you over, angles your ass up, slapping each cheek hard enough a red hand print sized welt develops almost immediately, he pushes all of himself into you, bottoming out as you moan and cry thanking God in your head as you’re split open, a welcomed pain. Spit soaks his sheets from your mouth when he pulls out, “oh you can take it, honey, don’t fucking quit on me.”

“I’m n—,” gasping loudly when he spits harshly on your ass. Rubbing his thumb against the pink button. The new sensation brings color to your closed eyes, stars and shapes of all size float in your closed mind, your pussy clenched harder around Eddie as you whine his name.

“Yeah?” Eddie moans, “told you daddy would take care of you, that needle dick can’t make you feel like this can he?”

you try to choke out a ‘no’ but no noise comes out, your head is thrown back violently as Eddie grabs your hair in one hand and pounds mercilessly into you.

Eddie is grunting with each slap of his heavy sack against your clit, “this is what you came here for right? Bad girl can’t pay her rent so she came to fuck the owner in exchange?” His taunting only makes you wetter, makes you clench his harder as you come undone for the second time. Screaming his name until you’re breathless. Panting and sweating like you ran a marathon. He gives you one more deep thrust of his hips and watches you fall forward.

“Look at the mess you made you little whore,” Eddie spits, venom laced words on that glory filled tongue, as he drags you by your hair to look at his soaked cock, “lick it up, want you to know how fucking sweet you taste.”

Eddie flips you over like a rag doll, positioning you the way he wants. Head dangling off the mattress, Eddie groans as he jams his cock into your throat, holding it there and choking you simultaneously. He reached to the night stand and grabs a black small vibrator placing it on your clit. The vibrations make you moan and choke around his length and against his hand. Eyelids fluttering shut you’re positive you can’t breathe, just when you’re about to pass out he brings you back, letting you breathe for a few seconds, chuckling to himself as you enter the hazy bliss of intoxicating euphoria. Your body convulses under his. Begging for a third orgasm, you can taste the earthy tang of your release and Eddie’s pre cum mix on your tongue.

His girth fills your throat completely, barely leaving room for your own tongue in your mouth. He’s dripping sweat onto your own body you can feel it slip from your belly button down into the curve of your neck. Eddie's hair is swaying in conjuncture with his hips slamming home against your face. Using your mouth like his own fist has you soaking the sheets, clit over stimulated, a deep bruise settling inside the soft silk of your velvet folds. A bruise you’d wear proudly for weeks to come.

Slapping your face as you gag lightly, mind steadily focusing on the jerking of your legs and the vibrating pulse of your cunt. Eddie shushes you reassuring you, tauntingly “someone too big for their britches huh? Work through it, sweetheart— that’s it, fuck good girl,” he chokes a whimper down his own throat as your tongue swirls around him. “Christ, swallowing what I give you, such a good girl for daddy.” Eddie thrusts one more deep cant of his hips into your mouth groaning deeply when you hollow your cheeks. Letting you breathe freely.

“You like that? Like me using you like a worthless fucking toy?” Eddie lifts you up to his face by your hair, kissing your lips delicately, you nod and whimper as he harshly sucks and nips at your neck leaving purpling marks in his wake.

Unabashedly you scratch your long nails into his chest, leaving your own mark on him as he groans against your skin. “My turn,” you whisper as you crawl into a standing position in front of him. Kissing him sweetly and pulling his bottom lip between your teeth, he whimpers at your touch. A tantalizing smile radiates across your lips. Eddie Munson a switch? Who knew? Pushing his shoulders backwards he falls on the bed, curtains of curls cascade around him and his face is turned up in shock then to a satanic grin.

Wiggling your tight skirt down your body you stand in only your heels.

“Fuck, you are a goddess.” Eddie groans, stroking his thick length in slow rhythmic motions as he stares at your body shamelessly, you climb towards him on his messy sheets between his legs your poor abused throat sore and bruised from his animalistic fucking.

His chest is littered with tattoos both old and new, faded and blown out lines mixed amongst sharp edged fresh ones stark against his pale skin. Blistering red lines decorate him from your nails earlier. Knees on either side of his hips you slot your pussy lips against his needy thick cock, sliding forward and back again, your hands on his chest for leverage. Leaning up on his elbows and moving you both backwards so he can rest his back against the headboard, he scants forward to kiss you but you push his forehead away dumbly.

Tsking and using few words to speak with a hoarse voice you whisper, “no touching.” Grinding your hips down into him, pocketing his cock in your slick folds like a sword in a sheath, you lick a stripe up his neck and land at this ear, your pretty moans singing to him like a demon seeking a naive victim. His hips jump with each roll of your own, desperate for relief he whimpers and whines as he’s close and you retreat. Starting all over again. After the third go around his bangs are stuck to his forehead, cheeks warm with a frustrated, worked up blush as you edge him again and again.

“Mmm’ fuck that’s a good cock daddy,” you moan as you come hard on his cock again making a mess yet again, he groans as you milk him for all he’s worth, your creamy pussy clenching against him, and your denial of his release is too much for him. “you wanna come for me?”

Eddie nods in spent anticipation, practically tearing up from being so worked up and being able to release himself. “Please— I can’t,” he groans, as you start grinding on him again, only this time you give in, hugging him in a pinky sheath of gummy walls and slick floors. “Christ,” he melts as you bounce atop his cock, dragging your hips backward and forward helping him hit the spot you so desperately craved from him. His thick hands are on your hips moving you to his liking, a pebbled nipple in his mouth makes you cry out his name as he pumps into you holding you still.

He slaps your ass, “I’m gonna come, shit, fuck!” He hums your name as hot ropes of his thick release coats your walls and floods out you don’t stop riding him, coaxing every last drop out of him until he’s hissing through his teeth as his softened length falls out of you, hot, reddened and aching.

Eddie pulls you to him, kissing your neck and scooting you both down the bed. “Think you’re my favorite tenant,” he laughs as you lay motionless on top of him, both breathing heavily.

“Jesus, I’d hope so, but maybe Miss Richard’s comes over here to get some money knocked off her rent,” you tease, tracing circles into his spotty chest hair, “heard she’s real pretty in her nightgown, just gotta be careful of her poligrip.”

He laughs again, smacking your ass, “you’re a fuckin’ brat y’know that?”

“And you’re a filthy fucker, quite the pair I’d say,” you spit before biting his chest.

Eddie yanks you by your hair to look you in the eyes, “not every day a pretty baby like you comes knocking on my door to rattle my cage and get free rent. But I’d like if you came over more often, that attitude needs adjusting.”

“oh really?” you question, hand under your chin like you’re bored as you roll your eyes, “and your old ass is gonna be the one to tame me huh?”

You spend a greater part of the night bent over Eddie’s knee, his studded belt in his hand as he whips you again and again. Tears spill from your eyes, and coat his thighs. Eddie’s sadistic ass only grins, a joint hanging limply from his lips, shushing you softly, “don’t cry honey, I told you your ass wouldn’t be able to cash that check.”

-

-

👅 I’m gonna go touch grass now

[mydearlybeloathed]

𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ¹

𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞...

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you have a decision to make: risk everything for the boy who means everything, or set him free of your doubts.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: opla!luffy x gn!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: use of Y/N, gn reader, angst, garp ships it

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬: august, two birds

series masterlist

It took Luffy some time to figure it out, but he’d been in love with you years before it ever rolled off his lips. 

He always knew he loved you, of course. Luffy knew for certain his life would be incomplete without you there by his side, you his first mate, and he your captain.

You were his very best friend, and after the first six times he’d caught you unawares with displays of his affections—heated kisses against the wall of his grandfather’s house were your favorites—you sat him down and discussed what it meant to be lovers. 

He quite liked the sound of being your boyfriend. 

If it were up to Luffy he would have sailed the seas with you forever, if only he could get away from marine training.

He particularly wanted to get you away. You were strong and brave, but you had a dream, and this little town, Grandpa Garp, and your marine father were no good for chasing dreams.

Besides, you smiled less nowadays. Luffy missed your smile like a lost limb.

Especially now, as he sits with you on the sandy beach of your village. You laid between his legs, head resting on his abdomen, his hat on your belly. His arms wrapped around you, and he felt almost fulfilled just like this.

“When we’ve got our own ship,” he said, “there will be a room just for your books. And no one will be able to take them away from you ever again.”

Your heart warmed at the notion, remembering how your father had done just that earlier in the day, prompting this sunset rendezvous on the shore. “And we’ll have a pantry full of all the best foods.”

“And a masthead to be recognized all across the sea,” he went on in a mystified way he only got when talking about the future. 

You laughed and leaned your head back to admire him. “Naturally.”

To you, this was all dreaming and nothing more. A dream so dear to your heart that it was honestly the only thing holding you together at this point—along with his comforting arms wrapped around you, of course. A dream, an ideal, a wish for something more than the path already chosen for you.

You thought Luffy knew that too, or maybe you hoped he knew. Either way, when his arms fled your body and he jumped to his feet, you confusedly flopped back into the sand.

Maybe you didn’t know your life’s greatest love as well as you thought you did, because Luffy’s dream was more than a dream—Luffy would be a pirate, whether you were with him or not.

“Look!” He pointed down the beach as you shuffled to your feet. The setting sun allowed just enough light for you to spy a ship rocking back and forth along the water, beaching itself on the sand. 

From the way it swayed ever so slowly, and the lack of any light or person, the ship seemed to be abandoned. A lonely vessel to brave the seas.

Luffy latched onto your hand with practiced ease and tugged you along down the shore, kicking up sand all the way there. A shriek full laugh escaped you as he halted suddenly, staring up at the little sloop with admiration usually reserved for you. 

“I wonder what happened to the crew,” you mumbled, creeping up the side of it and bringing him along with you. No name was etched along the side, the deck was littered with bird droppings, and the sail had a few stains. The boat was loved by no one, and probably never had been before.

“Dunno,” Luffy said. His hand left yours so he could jump up onto the deck, leaving your palm an uncomfortable cold. 

You crossed your arms as he inspected the ship, coming back to the railing a moment later to grin down at you. You raised a brow at that look on his face. “Well?”

Luffy leaped down beside you, the sand giving under his feet, and he scooped up both your hands in his. A string in your heart stuttered then snapped at the gleam in his eyes, like it already knew the end was near. 

“This is it.” He was out of breath when he said it. “Our chance.”

You laughed mirthlessly through your answer. “What?”

He tugged on your arms, pulling you to hop onto the boat with him. “We’ll sail out at dawn. What should we call it?” You gaped a moment as he shook it off. “We’ll name it later. Look! Just enough room for your books and some food. It’s perfect.”

You ripped your hand away from his, crossing your arms over your chest and taking a slight step away from him. Terror creeped under your skin. “Luffy, what’re you talking about?”

He looked at you like you were the crazy one. “Our dream.”

His dream, you thought but didn't say. “You can’t be serious, Luffy.”

“I’ve never been serious about anything,” he mused, approaching you to cup your face in his hands so gently, like he was holding his whole world. “But this I’m serious about.”

“Luffy…” Slowly, your hands drifted over his own, taking them away from your face to hold them between you. “But… we can’t survive on our own.”

“We won’t be on our own. We’ll have each other.” If that wasn’t more salt in the wound.

Panic flooded your senses. If he left, you had no one. Surely, he would never leave you. “Yeah, but—but we can’t leave tomorrow. Look at this thing, there’s no way it’ll last a storm out there.”

Luffy pursed his lips, thinking, nodding. “Give me a week. I’ll have everything done by next week.” The wonder left him for a split moment. “We have to leave before next week.”

You gradually caught on. “We start as cadets next week, Luffy.”

“Exactly. We won’t be able to get away after that. This is our chance.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to return his smile, certain your face betrayed your intense reservations. You stepped away from him and turned your back, going to the edge of the little ship. “This is crazy.”

Luffy watched your shoulders shake. He watched you walk away from him, and felt something fragile slip between his fingers. He stepped up beside you, grazing his shoulder against yours. “What’s wrong? Isn’t this… isn’t this what we always wanted.”

The silence to follow was everlasting, and it let you think.

Somewhere inside you, you’d always feared this day would come. When Luffy outgrew the satisfaction of dreaming and truly set out to make it all true. He could do it too. You knew that if nothing else. Luffy was everything you had ever wanted, but his desires stretched beyond just you.

Was it unfair to wish to trap him here with you? Was it terrible to wish his dreams would die for the sake of never leaving you? You reacted to the thoughts, flinching at their truth. 

Yes. It was evil of you. Terrible and evil. A tear slid down your cheek. 

The wood of the boat burned beneath your bare feet. The chill night air froze your skin. Luffy’s shoulder was a brand he didn’t know he’d given you. 

“Luffy,” you whispered. “I… I can’t.”

His confusion was even more crushing than anger could ever be. “But we were just saying…”

“Yeah,” you laughed breathlessly, wiping at your cheek. “We were just saying stuff to make us feel better. That’s what it was to me.”

His hand found your shoulder and forced you to face him. Careful, like he feared you would break, he wiped away the increasing stream of tears. “You know it’s always been more to me.”

“I know.” You leaned into his touch. “I’m sorry. I’m…”

“Afraid?” You nodded into his palm, sniffling. “Of your father?”

Were you really so transparent? “Among other things. It’s just… we can’t leave.”

“Who says so?” Luffy left your side and spun around, gesturing to the little ship. “Once we’re out there, nothing can stop us. We’ll be free. Just like Shanks.”

You’d always held a grudge against Shanks. He was dangerous in your eyes, not for any other reason than the spirit he inspired in Luffy. The red haired pirate was kind and just and brave—and you had admired him as much as Luffy in your youth—but he threatened this peace you’d made. Luffy would leave this little island in his name, and that made you hate Shanks.

Luffy’s smile found you again, never relenting in its passion. He raced up to you and held you by your arms, shaking you slightly. You had no choice but to look right into his eyes. “Let’s leave. Nothing’s stopping us. Let’s go the night before we’re trapped forever.”

Sniffling, your eyes skimmed all over his face. There was really only one answer, in the end, as much as it killed you. “Okay.”

Luffy planted a burning kiss to your forehead, then your cheeks, then your lips, drawing you in as yet another tear traced your face. Breaking away, you hugged him with the ferocity of a person who knew it was their last. 

“We’ll start preparing the ship tomorrow. Then we’re free. Captain Luffy and his first mate, Y/N.”

જ⁀➴

All week you helped Luffy load supplies into the sloop, hidden away in the cove, out of sight from those who would thwart you.

From crates of food to medical supplies you convinced him he needed, to the minor repairs the sloop needed, everything was ready by the deadline Luffy had set. 

“Not yet,” he said through a grin, confusing you. “We need your books.”

You’d gathered the most important ones. The ones you used to read to him on particularly boring nights. Stories of grandeur he’d always promised to take you on one day. Books that held sentiment from over the years, that made him pause when he saw one and remind you of memories held close to your heart.

“Remember this one?” he asked, holding it up and flipping through the pages.

Of course you did. “Yeah. It’s my favorite.”

Luffy laughed and showed you the pages, as if you needed reminding of the memorized little drawings the two of you had scribbled into the margins. Yours were better by far, but you much preferred his little stick figures. Then he turned to the little messages he’d written you, and you’d written him, scrawled onto the pages when you were meant to be studying.

“The Two Birds,” he remembered, starting to read the pages. “It was my favorite too. Two birds of a feather say that they’re always going to stay together.”

Your heart thundered in your chest the longer that book lay open. “But one’s never going to let go of that wire.”

“He says that he will, but he’s just a liar.”

You hated that damn book.

Then came the morning of Luffy’s departure. He woke up before the sun, racing to your house and poking on the window. No one ever came to open it, so he gave it a push, swinging it open to find you were absent from the little room.

Not thinking anything of it, he headed down to the cove, deciding you must be there already.

Only, you weren’t. He looked all around the sloop and up on the deck, but aside from the crate of your books, there was no sign of you. 

“Luffy!” A voice bellowed from up the shore, and Luffy’s head snapped up as horror rushed up his spine. Vice Admiral Garp was racing toward him, tripping down the sandy slope.

Jumping to action, Luffy started pushing on the hull of the sloop, using all his might to get it into the water. Garp wasn’t making good time, his feet sinking into the sand and getting stuck every other step. 

The sloop got free of the beach and Luffy shoved off, chest heaving from exertion and panic, head swimming. He kept pushing and pushing till it was deep enough and he pulled himself onto the deck. 

“Hey!” Luffy whirled around just as you leaped at his grandfather, dragging him down to the sand with you. Holding the man down you looked up at him, and Luffy swore his heart dropped. “Go, Luffy!”

You had never intended on joining him, he realized, jaw setting as he spurred into motion, guiding the ship deeper and deeper into the sea, till he was too far away for Garp to catch. He kept going and going till he was just a speck on the horizon.

And with a throat burning with unspent tears, arm tight in the grip of the Vice Admiral, eyes locked on the sea, you found it in yourself to smile. 

Luffy would never have left you, you knew. He was too good. But, gods, he needed to leave. Your thoughts may be evil but you are not. To trap him would be to kill the light in him you so loved. It was better this way, for everyone involved, probably. 

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Garp growled down at you.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “He’s free now.” The smile faded to make way for a sour frown that would grace your face for decades to come. “I’m ready to join the marines, Vice Admiral.”

His hold on your arm loosened enough for you to lead the way back to town, head ducked, and Garp watched you go. A puzzled crease was in his brow, and something in him admired you. Something in him decided you’d make an honorable marine, even if his grandson would not. 

જ⁀➴

Garp never told your father you’d played a part in Luffy’s departure, and you never paid a too hefty price. He figured cadet training without your best friend was enough punishment. And he had been right on all accounts; you made an excellent marine, one of the coldest and most efficient of your time.

Your superiors commended you. Your peers envied you. As for yourself, well, it was hard to stave off the self loathing. You missed Luffy, but this was all for the best.

He was free, and honestly, that was as good as freedom itself.

Some months later, you were sitting at a desk going over the files of recent prisoners, when a new wanted poster was slapped onto the table. You jumped, glancing up at Vice Admiral Garp, who wore a strange kind of grin on his face.

“Take a look at your boy,” he said, walking off not a second later.

Glancing down, you spilled your ink with how badly you spooked, practically throwing everything aside to pick up the poster. A watery laugh slipped past your lips as you cupped a hand over your mouth, eyes suddenly teary. He’d done it. Luffy was a pirate with one of the highest bounties you’d seen. 

“Care to go after him?” Garp wondered from the doorway. “We need our best on this crew. They’re a dangerous bunch.”

You looked away from the poster of a face you hoped to never see again. You’re not sure what you’d do if you saw him again. “I don’t think I should.”

“Why?” He settled you with a glare. “You’re one of the most promising soldiers I’ve seen. But you’re losing your edge. Perhaps some action away from the desk will bring it back.”

You started to shake your head. “Vice Admiral, I don’t think seeing him would end well for anyone.”

“Perhaps. But you should know he asked about you.” Your eyes widened a fraction.

“You talked to him?”

“And he asked how you’re doing mid fight with me,” he chuckled.

You tried to think about the implications. “He did?” Taking a moment to think, you shook your head. “Respectfully, I decline. I fully believe hell would break loose if he saw me.”

Garp seemed to smile at that, like that’s exactly what he wanted. “Respectfully, I decline your decline. You report to your new post tomorrow.”

Gaping, you chased after him as he stomped down the hall. “But Vice Admiral—Garp! Stop!”

He had the nerve to laugh at your panic, and without thinking you grabbed his sleeve and jerked him to stop. “I’m a coward! That’s why I’m here. I’m not a promising soldier—I’m a dirty coward.”

Garp stared at where your hand held his sleeve, his frown a thin line. “And how do we fix that?” He took hold of your wrist and gripped it tight. “We take you to the source and crush it.” 

His hand found your shoulder. “You chose to stay, cadet. Never forget that.”

Ouch. You nodded swiftly. “I know… Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” Garp said through a tight lipped grin.

You gave him one last solid nod and returned to your desk, shoulders stiff and blood rushing in your ears. Your eyes skimmed over the paperwork you had left to finish, all scattered over the floor, some dirtied by spilled ink. Luffy’s wanted poster smiled up at you.

He had always been too good for you, you think, rolling the poster up and slipping it into your coat pocket. Hell would break loose should the Strawhat Pirates cross paths with Cadet L/N, for many, many reasons. Cracking your neck to relieve some stiffness, you considered that may not be such a bad thing.

>>

[gemini-sensei]

Pretty Boy, Good Girl | Robby Keene x Chubby!Reader

Fem!Reader ○ S1 Robby ○ Smut

(@sensei-venus)

"Hey, pretty boy!"

Robby looked up, seeing a girl leaning over the rail from a ledge that overlooked the skatepark. She was curvy with wide hips and fat tits that were held in a tight tank top. She was sucking up some sun as it was a bright day, hardly any clouds rolling in, and she held a round lollipop. She waved at him before putting the sweet treat back in her mouth, and he couldn't help watching the way her lips wrapped around it.

He checked her out a little longer, especially her chest as she stood bent over the rail, and smirked. He licked his lips, then turned to the bowl to skate a little more. He showed off a bit, doing a few tricks. He'd look over ever so often to see if he was being watched, finding some pride when he saw her smile.

He didn't keep it up too long, eventually walking over to the girl. "And what's your name, beautiful?"

Reader grinned and introduced herself. He leaned against the railing beside her and watched her suck on the lollipop. They flirted a little bit until her candy was all gone, at which point she got closer to Robby. A few touches and sweet words later she was leading him to her car, where they climbed in the hatchback.

They weren't complete strangers. They went to different schools, but they'd passed each other on the street. She came by the skatepark often with some friends and he'd see her there, laughing and having a fun time. She'd watch him from afar, eventually getting the courage to ask him out in one way or another.

He was sitting against the wall of the car, his pants around his ankles and her hot mouth in him. She sucked on the head of his dick hard, looking up at him with her pretty eyes. As soon as he made eye contact with her, she closed her eyes and took more of him into her mouth. He bit his lip and groaned, feeling his tip hit the back of her throat. She gagged a little bit but kept going. As she brought her head up, she hollowed her cheeks and sucked hard.

"Oh fuck," he grunted.

He felt like he was in heaven, even though the back of her car was a lit hot and getting stuffy. He panted hard, hands planted on the floorboard, and held back from trusting up into her mouth. It was so good, but only got better when she started deepthroating him.

She made him come a lot faster than he wanted to, but he didn't care too much as he tried to catch his breath. She sat up and swallowed the fat loud he'd filled her mouth with, a little bit dribbling down the corner of her mouth. He wiped it away with his thumb and pushed it into her mouth. She moaned with surprise, then licked it clean.

"You're such a good girl," he said, smirking at her as she grinned at the praise. She nodded and he bit his lip. "Good girls deserve rewards. What do you want?"

"You're cock," she whispered softly, licking her lips.

He used his free hand to pump his cock and keep it hard. She looked down to watch, the taste of his cum still on her tongue. Her panties were getting wetter by the second and she couldn't take it anymore, so she shimmered out of them and tossed them over the seat. Robby took her hips into his hands as she came closer to him, her knees on either side of him.

"Is this okay?" He asked, looking up at her as she stood on her knees before him. He secretly loved this angle, seeing her over him like this, and he couldn't wait to feel her sit on his lap and ride his cock. He rubbed the tip through her folds, wetting his already saliva-lubed cock with her essence.

She nodded, anchoring herself by grabbing his shoulders. Just the simple touch of his cock to her folds was tantalizing and ticking away at her winning patience. Then, she slowly started lowering herself onto his cock, letting out a low moan. He stretched her open deliciously but she kept going until she was fully seated on his lap. His hands slipped down and grabbed her fat ass by the handfuls, pulling her close against him.

"Oh my god," she moaned, eyes rolling up. Her chest pushed against his, though they still wore their shirts. It still felt good and her hardened nipples were still stimulated and her head was spinning. "Fuck, you're so big"

She took little time for herself to adjust to his size, knowing they had little time to fuck in the back of a public park's parking lot. So she began grinding her hips down on him harshly, knowing if she started bouncing she might hit her head on the roof. Keeping things quick and simple was the way to go and Robby helped her in that endeavor, lightly pulling her forward with the tight hold he had on her ass. For the most part, she was in control and he was almost drooling over it.

She moaned so pretty as he grunted and groaned under her, watching the place where they met and the mess they were making. She was gushing with arousal, it dripping down his balls as they went at it. The closer she got to coming, the louder she got, at which point he pulled her in for a deep, heady kiss where he tasted himself on her and groaned into her mouth. It was so hot.

"I'm gonna come soon," he warned her.

She half nodded. "Me too."

It would end up being he would come first, holding onto the rolls up her side as a means of anchoring. Her walls constricted around him tight as he throbbed and pumped her full of his cum. Despite it being his second orgasm, he came quite a bit, overfilling her cunt to the point it began to leak out around his shaft. Then it wasn't long after that, she came and pulled what weak shots he had left for her out of him. It was heavy as the mess settled between them, far too much to just clean up and part ways.

But she didn't seem to mind as she collapsed against his chest, her head falling onto his shoulder. She panted hard as it all came to a standstill and he went soft inside her.

When they got their bearing together, she giggled and mentioned the mess that there was no point in trying to hastily clean up. "That's gonna need a lot more than just some towels."

"Yeah," he huffed. His eyes widened as she lifted herself off of him, seething as his sensitive cock slipped out of her. Then a hefty amount of cum followed from her cunt and slid down his cock to his balls. "Oh fuck."

"You can always come to my place and get cleaned up," she suggested, wearing a cheeky grin. There was a glint in her eyes that he found he agreed with, and it said: We're not done yet.

He nodded. "Okay."

So they made themselves presentable and got into the front seats. She drove him toward her place with one hand on his cock, making a mess of his pants as she palmed him all the way there. He kept his eyes on her most of the time until he realized they were driving into a cushy, upscale neighborhood and he was checking out the houses ten times bigger than his apartment.

He had no idea what he'd just gotten himself into, but when she led him into her house and up to her thousand-dollar bathroom, he happily fucked her in her lush, far from a little shower. Their fun had only just begun.

[lowkeyrobin]

hello! i was wondering if you could write a one shot for finn wolfhard? maybe like a date night or something but take your own route!

oooo fuck yeah of course!! ; I hate writing standard dinner dates (esp bc I've never been on a date before but we ain't gonna talk about that) so I hope you enjoy this! ; thanks for requesting :) ; also I'm so sorry this is so short, writers block kicked my ass on this :(

FINN WOLFHARD ; city boy

summary ; a little date in the city with Finn

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; I don't know shit about living in a city lol

track ; city boy ; calpurnia

word count ; 551

masterlist

"Jay-Z or Fleetwood Mac?" You ask, hanging Finn an earbud as you scroll through one of your playlists.

"Uh, Jay-Z" He nods, inserting the little device into his ear, making sure as he walked on your left side, that it went in his left ear, pairing with the earbud that you had in your right ear. "Now you're in New York~." He smiles, purposefully singing badly to play with you.

"Shush!" You laugh, taking his hand in yours.

When it came to dates with you two, anything but dinner was up for discussion. You both hated classy dates, you'd rather go do something fun and live your lives while you could.

You were walking down the streets towards one of the many bridges in the city, wanting to walk on one of the lower levels and experience the wind of the cars passing by punching your backs and being able to smell the water below.

The noise of the metal pittering underneath your feet was unintelligible, being defeaned by the whizzing of passing vehicles. The breeze brushes against your faces, pushing your hair back as you look over the railing, arms crossed over the ledge to get a bit of a better position to look down.

The water has a sort of quiet white noise to it, washing and running below the bridge. The tide pushes toward you, the large ripples, almost waves, stagger their way down the surface of the water, carrying the boats and canoes with them.

"This is nice" Finn says quietly, taking a glance at you to see your expression, trying to read you.

You nod in agreement, looking down at the water, feeling cars whizz past you above and behind you.

"You look nice today" He smiles, catching your gaze. "Really makes your eyes pop"

You lightly smile and roll your eyes. "Such a romantic, Finn"

"Yeah, I know"

"You wanna go down there?" You ask, pointing down at one of the boat piers.

He shrugs, "Yeah, sure"

You walk all the way back off the bridge, then make your way down the streets and across the other bridge to get you down to the docks. Near those docks was a huge fountain that you both liked to be misted with water by.

The walk down is calm and peaceful, hands tied with Blue Foundation playing in your earbuds. The breeze sends chills down your spine, causing him to feel the quick here-and-gone tenseness within the grip of your hand. His curls reveal his face as the wind pushes them back, nearly taking his jacket with it before he zipped it up.

The sun produces enough heat for a moment of warmth before it's back to chills, clouds filling the sky and hiding the firey ball of flame periodically. He pulls you a little closer, seeking your body warmth, considering you'd been wrapped up in jeans, a long sleeved shirt, and a heavy hoodie.

You look over at him, an eyebrow raised at his actions, your pace slowing down a bit for him.

"I'm cold, shut up." He smiles, resting his arm around your waist, your shoulders brushing every few steps. "You're warm"

"I'm hot, actually"

"Yeah, yeah. You are hot." He giggles, placing a light kiss on your temple.

"Mhm, say it again"

"You're hot"

[googleitlol]

If Dove's store went into the Lmk universe/storyline, how whould dove react to Mk? And Wukong being put into another circlet??

I'm sorry for how off the rails this ask is going to get, I'm including a lot of other stuff besides your questions cuz I've already thought about this a lot.

@marcu-bug and I have brought it up to each other before, and in LMK… Dove is reincarnated. Will I explain why?

…Not yet :D

For this, Dove is sort of like a maternal figure to MK (He's got so many dads, why not add a mom friend?). I have a oneshot planned where I'll go more into her character, but I imagine in the lmk universe, she’d be a paramedic that usually stops by Pigsy’s for lunch. Dinner too if she’s had a long day. Which is most days.

She definitely gets a lot of those ‘worried-parent’ feelings around MK and Mei, with how often they go jumping at the chance to do dumb shit. She’s seen a lot of things, but dear lord do those to take the cake for number of calls she’s had to respond to. Actually, that’s probably how she first discovered the noodle shop, responding to a call Pigsy made when Mei took MK for a ride on her motorcycle and they crashed. I imagine like an old bartender, Pigsy would listen to her rants about her shift with Tang enjoying a bowl next to her. Being a paramedic is tough, having her gift is helpful but sometimes Dove is running into hostile situations on the job. Sometimes she sees something that shakes her, but Pigsy and Tang are there to listen at the end of the day. It also helped her to unwind by hearing Tang tell MK all about the Journey to the West and the Monkey King. It'd be a lie to say she wasn't a little intrigued by his stories, just a bit.

She joins the monkie gang when the pilot begins and helps out when she can, and funnily enough, Red Son gets pretty uncomfortable around her. Not that she gets to join her friends too often, and for a very specific reason. Sun Wukong. At first, Dove thinks he's a generally cold guy, he's always on his mountain, doesn't socialize much, and he's pretty standoff-ish around her. But after seeing how he is with MK, she quickly realizes that isn't the case.

Okay, he's just an ass, then. A confusing one, at that.

It seems like Monkey King will do whatever it takes to avoid her, but at the same time, he pushes himself into her life in the most frustrating ways imaginable. Nearly anytime she's invited to do anything fun with her friends or go on any sort of adventure, she gets a call from her building manager that something is leaking in her apartment, or a strange call from her boss asking if she can do another shift last-minute, only for them to be none the wiser about ever asking her to do that. Dove didn't realize who was behind these strange happenings, but when she figured it out, boy was she pissed.

It's not uncommon to see Dove and Wukong arguing, much to MK's dismay. She just doesn't get why he's decided to hate her, he doesn't even know her! One time, he asked her to help a monkey of Flower Fruit Mountain that needed medical help, but when she got there, he left her stranded on the mountain while he went on vacation! Dove couldn't see the mainland for days until MK and Tang visited the mountain for a separate reason about some giant dumpling. It doesn't get much better when the team has to go looking for the Samadhi rings. If anything, it gets worse. Monkey King is so aggravated to even have Dove with them, she'd half-expect that he wanted her left to be frozen in the city with Lady Bone Demon! He doesn't want her anywhere near the ritual where they form the fire. The unfriendly behaviour doesn't stop until, well, Amnesia Rules…

When Monkey King loses his memory and gives her this look of shock, the last thing she expects is for him to scoop her into his arms with the tightest hug she's ever experienced. A flip switched in his attitude towards her, and it's made all the more confusing after he explains that Pigsy is Zhu Bajie and Tang is Tang Sanzang

"Who do you think I am, then?"

"You're my one and only, Love-Dove!"

She's not sure what's worse, that god-awful nickname or the fact that he thinks he's in love with her! Although, as the day goes by… she can't say she's unopposed to seeing this much friendlier side of him. Even if she only got to see it for a little while.

It likely wouldn't be until Wukong is about to face LBD that he finally admits to her why he was so upset about her being there, how she was the reincarnation of his one and only love. A love he lost, in a way that he could only blame himself. He couldn't bear the thought of putting her near harm's way again, not when their mission revolved around a power that was responsible for her past life's death (I might go into it in another ask/post, this is getting long)

After learning all of what they'd gone through in her past life, Dove is… apprehensive, to say the least. Some of his actions from the past, they make sense to her now, but it doesn't make her forgive him completely. Still, she remembers how Sun Wukong was when he had lost his memory… she would like to see that side of him more.

It takes them time to get past their rocky start (these two can never just start off liking each other smh), but in time, Dove starts to see more of that side she'd seen during Amnesia Rules. And she starts to fall for him all over again. He tells her about her past life, their time together on the journey, all of it. He admits how he robbed her of immortality… and how she tricked him into wearing the circlet. Their ups and their downs, he tells her everything. By the time season 5 rolls around, they're happy together. He's even offered her an immortal peach from the tree he's grown on FFM, so that he can finally make up for the mistake he made all those years ago.

Then… Li Jing puts the circlet on Wukong, again.

The moment Dove finds out, she's furious. How could they hurt him like that again?! Wukong tries to put her mind at ease, but it takes a lot to calm her down. "It's fine, Dove… I was honestly pretty disappointed. He put it on and just left, at least you were creative about it back in the day." That night, in the back of Sandy's van, Dove is littering his head in kisses, she can hardly imagine how painful it must feel. You best believe the moment they see Li Jing chasing them, she's aiming whatever she can find straight for his head. If he thinks he can induce some magic migraine on her man like that, she'll find a way to pay back the favour, tenfold. Nobody touches her Sun Wukong but her.

[itsonlydana]

Sailing Under the Sun | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader x Bard 👑 [king's special]

You're in the middle of the ocean when the wind dies down and leaves you stranded on Bard's sailboat. Thranduil's mood sinks but surely, though, there's a way to lift his spirits.

warnings/tags: NSWF! THIS IS ADULT CONTENT ✋️| [modern!AU], rich!Barduil, oral (m receiving), hand jobs, (guided) masturbation (f), dirty talk, i guess public-sex bc they're on the ocean? [reader is described with hair & wearing a bikini, no use of y/n]

word count: 4k

an: just a short little something, a treat for Thranduil as well as for you.. also.. Luke on that boat? Mhm-mhm yes yes. Best enjoyed listening to lana's 'born to die' because that's what i did xx // divider by @drinkthesky

+ masterlist + rules +🌿 reposts and comments are much appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

“I’m just saying,” Thranduil slides his gigantic pair of dark Prada sunglasses up his nose after one annoyed look at Bard, “if we’d taken my boat, there wouldn’t be this issue.”

You can’t stop the snort you let out at Thranduil’s less passive, more aggressive jab and since your face is pressed into the curve of your elbow, the sound is much louder than anticipated. 

“Thranduil, that yacht of yours burns through hundreds of liters of fuel. You can’t expect me to drop this baby –” The sound of Bard’s hand patting the wooden rail of his boat underlines the defensive bite in his answer, “so that you can destroy the ocean some more!”

“Have you not literally bought a new car last month?”

“It’s electric!”

“You had it flown in!”

“Boys!” You lift your head to stare at the two men – children, by the sound of their argument over boats like it was a cock measuring tool – and purse your lips, “Can’t a woman just nap on a boat, no matter what boat, and enjoy the sun a bit?” 

Thranduil opens his mouth to answer but you see that twitch in his eyebrows, the tell-tale sign that nothing good will come out so you cut him off before by shaking your head. “No, Thran. I really don’t care what or whose boat. All I want is for some relaxation. Maybe a drink.” You think back to the bottles of red wine cooling down in the cabin and sigh, “Or two.”

“You could’ve had one now,” Thranduil says and adds in a faux-whisper directed at none but heard by all: “Could’ve had a whole bar of drinks if we’d taken the Ferretti.”

Immediately, the groans of Bard and your inhale shut him up and Thranduil flips his hair back. “What? What?” his eyes fix you over the sunglasses and there’s a sharp edge to his low voice, a threatening edge of true annoyance. “Darling, you can’t tell me you’re happy that we’re stranded here.”

Stranded, because Bard’s prediction of a smooth sail went overboard as soon as the wind died down and he realized you’re mostly out of fuel.

Here, as in the middle of the ocean, surrounded by endless hues of blue. The glittering pacific blue ocean goes over into a cloudless light sky. No other boats, except yours, a peaceful human-less quiet that’s only interrupted by the gentle lapping of white foam-topped waves breaking against Bard’s sailboat and the breeze that makes the hot rays of the sun bearable if not enjoyable. 

And Bard’s been working on the sails wearing nothing but his swimming shorts so whenever you decide to look up from the towel you spread on the deck to sunbathe, you see his tanned muscles flexing in his back or his broad shoulders, and more than often he pulls on something or squats down which gives you a view even better than the ocean. The playful wind ruffles his hair now and then, dishevelling the locks of dark brown, salt and pepper and he looks – just right; balancing on the railing, his cinnamon-tanned chest splattered with freckles all up to his cheeks and a carefree easiness on his face. That’s the appearance of someone glad to be out on the water.

“Thranduil,” you pronounce the name like he’s a six-year-old who refuses to wear sunscreen, “I had the time of my life until you two whipped out your dicks.” 

And that’s the complete and honest truth. You have no need to suck up to Bard because Thranduil’s spoiled and rather spends the time on water acting like he’s not actually on water and sitting in the pool on his yacht, and you really like Bard’s sailboat. There’s a small bar downstairs, a hammock strung between the two masts, and plenty of room to lie down and do nothing. That’s all you need; he provides that and adds the naked-chest-view.

What are you going to do? Complain?!

“Yes, but imagine –” Thranduil stands up from his towel and saunters to you like a cat on a mission. The baby-blue linen shirt blows open in the sea breeze and shows the blush of pink that the sun has kissed onto his chest and the soft, slightly curled platinum strands of long hair brush your naked arms as he sits back down on the edge of your towel to lean down, his lips passing your temple to mumble hid deep vibrating voice into your ear, “The things we could do, the places we could play. The pool, the beds, the jacuzzi. I could tell the staff to leave the bar so I could taste my favorite drink –” his hands slide up your sunscreen sticky legs, rubbing the flesh of your thighs and part them slightly to play with the string of your bikini bottoms, “and that isolation means you, Darling, honey, can decide however – I – should – fuck – you.” 

A word, a kiss, a finger darting over the black bikini but never dipping in.

“Mhm,” your throaty hum is partly faulted to his hands caressing the warm skin of your inner thighs though his voice does a fantastic job of planting the seeds of imagination into your mind.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Bard calls and points his finger at Thranduil, “You’re playing unfair! Our girl has a right to her own opinion and doesn’t need your devilish tongue.”

The smirk is on Thranduil’s face before Bard realizes the double meaning of what he said and while he groans, Thranduil licks over his lips. “She could have it, though.” 

Bard jumps down from the railing, throwing a rope to the wooden floor. “You need a spanking,” he says, which not only leads to another smirk but to a low: “Yes, please, Sir.” 

Your bikini straps dig into your shoulders as you support yourself on your elbows, giving both men a view of your breasts pushed together in that black top they bought last month on the Monacco Trip. You catch Bard’s eyes, exchanging a shrug and tilt of the head, an unspoken discussion on how to deal with Thranduil’s behavior which, if unhandled, will only get worse the longer you sit around and try to ignore the crease between his eyebrows. 

The last time Thranduil had been forced to a dinner he had zero interest in being at, he made off-handed comments about everyone like he was absolutely counting on getting thrown out and when that didn’t happen he faked multiple phone calls (Bard and you ignored him the entire time, chatting to investors and walking arm in arm through the private gallery) before he stood up and left. Right before dessert was served. Like a cunt – There had been strawberry shortcakes and layered tiramisu, the perfect cream-to-berry ratio on the afternoon sweet clock. Bard had his chocolate eyes on the tiny glasses the entire time you were circling the room but none of them made it into your hands there.

You stole two in your tiny handbag, had sacrificed a lip balm and condoms to make room for the glasses to sneak them back to your hotel where you and Bard had watched a movie and pretended Thranduil didn’t sit next to you looking thoroughly pleased that he was finally back in his silk pajamas and freshly pampered.

“Soo,” Bard starts slowly, dragging out the ‘o’ that sounds more like a low throaty hum in the end. His hands wander up Thranduil’s shoulders to massage the twirly thin hair on his nape, “how can we make this day more enjoyable to you, Your Majesty?” 

“I could blow some winds into the sail to bring you back into port,” you suggest light-heartedly. 

Thranduil lifts one hand and nudges the glasses up into his hair. A few strands escape, falling down the side of his temples and fluttering in the breeze. While Bard has this look that places him on a sailboat, hands dirty and tanned like he spends his life up in the masts and ropes, Thranduil belongs on the yacht. Dirty-Shirleys, loosely buttoned shirts in white and blue, discussing galleys and standing on a glass floor to safely look down on the cerulean water underneath without ever getting even a bit of wave spraying up to the expensive clothes. 

You dabble in both these lifestyles. There are days when you love to sit around in tight dresses and hang around Thranduil’s arm, watching him gamble or play pool, whispering dirty thoughts like secret tactics into his ear but you would never say no to a day like this one. Lounging in your bikini, listening to the waves, and flying whenever the winds bless you. 

 “Or you could blow me.”

Thranduil doesn’t blink or twitch a muscle while you cough the devil out of you. Unfortunately, his proposition came when you reached for your bottle of water for a refreshment. The cooling drops roll down the curve of your breast and sink into the bikini and towel, leaving behind nothing but a darkened spot instead of the reanimating of your dried-out mouth and you’re spraying the water in more directions than Thranduil's yacht, barreling through the ocean at 40 knots.

At your sputtering, Bard pats your back compassionately. “There, there,” he chuckles and reaches down to wipe some of the water away, his fingers innocently brushing past the seamline at your breasts. The skin is warm, calloused, rough, and yet lovingly; he’s the summer cocktail that leaves you wanting more after one sip.  “He got you this wet already?”

“Bet that little number is drenched as well,” Thranduil adds mockingly and to prove him wrong, you raise your ass up.

“Check your facts,” you grin and slightly wiggle your butt, knowing full well that one more comment from either of them or one more touch would disintegrate the composure brought on by the sun and relaxation to leave another sea in the black bottoms. That thought brings more laughter, one that dusts your cheeks pinker than Thranduil’s chest. “Sea for yourself, huh?” 

Even Thranduil laughs at that, the first real smile that isn’t conceited or shameless flirting like the one he gave you as you showed off your bikini; this one’s deep from his soul and you’re proud that it’s one thoroughly bad dad-pun that cracks the shell of his mood.

“Well, Captain,” you blink up to Bard, “does the boat need you or can your loyal crew borrow some of that time?”

Sitting on one knee, Bard scratches the scruff of his beard, drawing his chin between two fingers. “No,” he says after a moment of thought and turns to Thranduil, “I’ve got time to help our Majesty out. One might say I’m quite handy at raising the mast. What? Oh, don’t look at me like that,” – that, being an eye roll and a huff – “so when she–” he nods his chin at you, “says it it’s fine but me? I’m getting castrated by the looks of ya!” 

“Tze, I don’t need your help masting me up. I’ve been lounging around blue-balling ever since our Darling girl showed that ass of her in that skimpy string bikini.” Thranduil makes himself more comfortable, sitting back on the small bench and leaning against one of the cabin windows so that you’re directly situated in front of him. As soon as you scoot closer on your knees, he opens his thighs and pets them. “C’mon, honey. Show me what that mouth of you can do.”

Bard, following his own, mischievous agenda, moves as well to sit next to Thranduil on the bench, one foot stemming up behind Thranduil to pull him into his opened legs. Their mouths crash together in a kiss that starts up fast, a colliding of teeth like a continuation of their earlier discussion that neither one is willing to lose. One of Bard’s hands finds its way into Thranduil’s neck, the other one moves to one of his perked-up nipples and playfully flicks it. 

You shuffle closer and undo the string that holds up Thranduil’s cream linen pants with fast nimble fingers – pulling on one end and watching, your cheek resting against one thigh, as the bow falls apart just like you plan on unraveling Thranduil. 

Without breaking away from Bard’s opened and moaning lips, Thranduil lifts his hips, aiding you as you pull the fabric over his legs to find a wonderful surprise waiting for you. 

“Seems like you weren’t lying,” you hum. There’s certainly one part of Thranduil that enjoys the view; ocean be dammed if you can have a good pair of tits in front of you, right? Thranduil’s cock stands proudly against his stomach, the tip red and weeping. You kitten-lick up the side, alternating to a soft kiss when you reach the head. “How did I not notice this?” you ask and lick up a bit of precum. 

The taste spreads salty on your tongue yet sweeter than seawater. 

That does bring Thranduil to break away from Bard and his gray eyes find yours, his pupils dilated by the lust taking over. “I guess it's because you didn't spare a glance at me during the whole journey. You were too busy drooling over Bard's a – ahh– ss.” 

“Is that so?” Bard asks cheekily, pausing his administration of marking up the junction Thranduil’s neck with his teeth, bruises that’ll remind Thranduil for a long time how, in the end, he enjoyed himself on Bard’s boat.

“No?” you lie. You did, but who wouldn’t stare if presented with such a good arse and muscles? Anyway, he’s your boyfriend and spent the morning between your legs so that must cancel each other out, right?

“Mhm, she did.” Thranduil grabs for Bard and pulls him into another kiss.

You spit in your hand, knowing full well by now a dip into your bottoms would be enough but the flutter of Thranduil’s lashes at the sound and what comes next is a high reward, and give his cock one testing stroke. 

“I don’t think you’re in the place to tease,” You use your thumb to smear his precome that dribbles out of his slit over the head and down, mixing it with your spit to wetten his cock further. A helping hand comes from Bard and he gatherers your hair. With nothing in your way, you lean forward and swallow Thranduil’s cock right to the base, licking up the veins.

Thranduil groans and his head slumps into the crook of Bard’s neck. He’s already too gone to answer in typical Thranduil-fashion – which is a snarky comeback –, a few licks and the slight pressure from your tongue against his balls is all it takes.

Swirling your tongue around the base, you sigh heavily, breathing in and taking him a bit deeper into your throat in the delight of finally having his weight in your mouth again. Thranduil’s hand flies to your head when you start bobbing, going down further and further every time, and his fingers wrap themselves around some strands, nails digging into your skin.��

“Fuck, that’s right,” Bard groans. You look up and see that Thranduil has his other hand around his cock, though he went right into a steady pace. Through lowered lashes, Bard nods at you. “C’mon baby, I know you’re drenched as well,” his hips lift, following Thranduil’s tug on his cock, “Just – fuck, just listen to me and I can take care of you, alrigh’?”

You nod around Thranduil’s cock, the tip now bullying the end of your throat in a way that nearly constricts your breathing but pleasurably lets just the tiniest bit of air through so you’re not yet lightheaded. Unconsciously you rub your thighs together, searching for some friction with one of your heels digging into your cunt. 

“That’s good, baby, but y’know what’s going to feel real good? Give Thranduil those fingers.”

While you continue to hold Thranduil’s cock down, nose pushed against the waxed skin, you let the blonde swirl his tongue around two of your fingers and watch as he coats your middle and pointer in enough spit that it drips when you pull them back with a ‘pop’.

Bard groans in approval. “That’s right, good job. Now go ‘head and slide them into your bikini. Leave it on, ‘s not like there’s much to pull off anyway.”

Thranduil laughs and moans at the same time, nearly choking you on his cock at the sudden movement and you quickly lift your head. A mix of your spit and his precum drip down your throat and onto your breasts. 

“Can you fuck my throat?” Your question sounds sweet but it’s Thranduil’s turn to choke on his laughter. The hand in your hair tightens.

“Fuck, of course, Darling,” Thranduil wastes no second and pushes you back on his cock immediately, giving you barely any time to inhale enough air before he’s lodged in your throat again. Without further ado, he starts thrusting up, first slow as he’s figuring out how he would like it today, then faster.

Gagging and shifting for a better stance, knees spread apart, your wet fingers slide past the tight stretch of your bikini, finding it practically glued to your cunt. There’s not one single cell in your body that isn’t strung to vibrate in lust and desire, all that goes through your flesh and mind is the siren song of pleasure, luring you closer into her trap but is it truly a trap when you surrender all you are willingly? You don’t think so and sink your middle finger into yourself, finding that there’s little resistance yet plenty of slickness that makes it easy for you to rub the pads of your fingers over your throbbing clit.

The squelch is loud and evokes groans from all three of you, only yours is stifled by Thranduil’s cock spearing through your mouth. 

“Oh, you’re such a good girl,” Bard smirks down at you, taking in the tears that gather in your eyes and the spit drooling out of your mouth, dripping uncontrollably and smearing over the hand you’ve been using to fondle Thranduil’s balls. “What a sight, you messy messy girl. Look how you’re pleasing Thran – shit,” he breaks into a moan as Thranduil twists his hand.

Blinking away some of the tears and rubbing your clit harder, it’s an effort to focus your twisted view to look up at Thranduil but when your eyes focus, he’s glorious. Both hands occupied, one holding you down and the other fucking Bard’s leaking cock, knuckles glistening with precome. He’s leaning to the side, moaning open-mouthed against Bard’s throat that bobs at each sound, the blush on his cheeks dark and a beautiful contrast to his light yet disheveled hair. No painter could capture that wanton pull of his face, the color of his lips, and the fan of his lashes.

“I – Love, Bard, I don’t think – ah fuck yesyesyessogood – I’m not gonna last long,” Thranduil manages to say, his hips speeding up in that blind chase after pleasure, grinding his cock into the back of your throat.

The lightheadedness kicks in with the rush of adrenalin and you hum, sending the vibrations along Thranduil’s cock. He can’t hold himself back longer, there’s no reason or thought behind his actions as he hammers his cock into you, using your mouth as a wet sleeve just like you had wanted him to and his size and width will probably bruise you enough that speaking will be something to avoid but there’s no reason for your voice if your body sings that beautifully like it does now.

Your hips move against your own hand, rutting into the fingers rubbing your clit furiously, the heat in your stomach tight.

“Fuck if you could only see yourselves,” Bard grunts, twitching in Thranduil’s firm grip one last time before he shoots his load all over his heaving chest. Breathlessly, he sinks down, falling to his knees and you don’t even notice how close he is until rough fingers shove yours aside. 

For a second you whine, a useless sound blocked by Thranduil’s heavy cock, but Bard shushes you. His frame blocks the sun that beats down on your back and he curls around you. “Let me, love,” he murmurs. There’s another burning light, stronger and hotter than the sun. His fingers find your clit with a knowing ease and you go tense up completely, thighs shaking to hold yourself up somehow. 

The gentle bob of the boat does nothing but heighten the sensations, the exposure to everyone who might pass or get close a knowledge that sits in the back of your neck and rolls down your spine hot like molten silver.

A narrow breath trips out of Thranduil’s lips, a pretty little sound that leaves you dripping all over Bard, who shoves two fingers of one hand inside you and rubs your clit with two of the other. A string of moans follow and then, shooting directly down your throat, Thranduil comes with one last raise of his hips, his hand stilling in your hair and his cum bittersweet. 

“Good fucking girl,” Bard praises, his fingers sending you into oblivion straight after you finish swallowing and choking on Thranduil, one ‘come-hither’ motion that lights up your body like fireworks on the fourth of July though instead of rocketing up into the sky, you clam down on Bard’s fingers and let the flaming orgasm whip you into another sphere. 

Your sight clears and both men are there, rubbing your back and gently rolling you through the shaking aftershocks that leave you to fall trembling into Bard. He catches you, hands sticky with your combined arousal holding you up. Thranduil reaches for your forgotten water bottle, tipping it to your mouth and you greedily flush down the remaining taste of his cum.

An orgasmic bliss clings to the edge of your being and you’re more than satisfied. 

Since you don’t seem like taking control over your body, Bard man-handles you to lay down on another towel, one that’s free from cum. Thranduil stands, if not sways, and pulls on the open sail to bathe you in a cooling shadow.

“There,” Thranduil pulls off his shirt, the baby-blue darkened by his sweat and carelessly throws it into the cabin, “I could go for a swim now. All that blowing and there’s still no wind.”

And with that he swings himself over the metal railing, hair flying through the air and the water spraying up as he dives down.

You mumble a question and – yes, speaking will definitely be limited to the bare minimum and only if truly necessary.

Bard understands you nevertheless and slips behind you again, pulling your tired body against his – cleaned – chest. “Let’s join him in a bit,” he mumbles between the rain of soft kisses into your neck, his nose nudging your skin gently, “and then I’ll them him I’ve got a full enough tank to sail us to every port he wants to.”

You snort, rolling your head back to give his wandering lips more access to your sun-kissed warm skin. Spots dance in front of your closed eyes and seagulls screech in the distance. The water sounds inviting and you can’t wait to dive into the cooling wet, joining Thranduil. You’ll climb on his back, letting him drift around with your arms around his neck holding on, the water lapping over you and Bard tugging on your feet, tickling you until you swallow water from laughing so much.

But now, his breathing is as constant as Thranduil’s low hum next to the boat, and his arm’s heavy around your stomach and you promise yourself you’ll just close your eyes for a little bit.

taglist: @crouchingapple (if you want to be added: just inform me via the inbox or under my posts)

[weareapackofstrays]

A New Kind of Love: Chapter II

Genre: Non-Idol college au, slight enemies to lovers (more like they annoy e/o at the start), friends with benefits, smut, angst, romance, drama

Pairing: Minho x F!Reader

Warnings: Drinking, Cigarette Smoking, Mention of Weed, Nonconsensual touching, Cussing, Spanking, Rough Sex, Physical Violence (Minho punches a guy), Degradation, Reader is a bit of a brat. Let me know if I forgot anything! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 2,979

Summary: You didn't grow up with great examples of love. Your parents were always at each other's throats. As a result, you have struggled with expressing your true feelings and can come off cold or defensive. After your boyfriend of 2 years cheats on you during freshman year with your childhood best friend, you decide to swear off love for good. Now in your second year of college, you move into the basement apartment of a house full of college boys. Inevitably crossing paths with one of them, Minho quickly gets under your skin in more ways than one. Despite your differences, you can't stay away from him.

A/N: I struggled a little with this chapter compared to the others I finished. Sorry if it's not great. Also, to spare my anxiety, I’m going to refrain from creating deadlines since this story has expanded from what it was originally meant to be (a one shot lol). I will have part three out as soon as I can. Again, any feedback/thoughts are welcome!

Chapter II: Keep Your Voice Down Prev | Next

A ringtone jolts you awake. Blearily, you look around your bedroom for the source. Stumbling, you reach for the discarded purse on the floor and fish out your mobile. Squinting at the bright light, you see the name Baddest Bitch 🎀 flash across the screen. You slide to answer.

“Hello,” your voice sounds rough. 

“Bitch, did you really just ditch me last night?” Your best friend, Yuqi, shouts through the phone. You move it a few inches from your face before speaking.

“What are you talking about?”

“I went to find you and you were gone.”

You take a moment to recall the party, the memories slowly coming back. “Wait, didn’t you ditch me last night for some guy?”

“I mean, yeah, but-” you cut her off.

“Look I am super hung over right now and desperately need a shower. Can you save your scolding for later?”

“Sure, I’m going to head to the diner. Meet you there?” You look at your phone to see the time. 

“I can be there in like, 30 minutes?”

“See you!”

“Bye.” You hang up the phone and very slowly make your way to the shower. 

The warm water feels like heaven cleansing away all sins from last night. While washing your hair, you suddenly remember meeting your neighbor, Minho. You struggle to remember the conversation. Was I that wasted? You can only recall that he was a bit of a dick. Shaking your head, you erase him from your mind.

Dressed comfortably in jeans and a black turtleneck, you grab your long coat and keys before heading out the door. You pause to take out your sunglasses as the sun hits. As you round the corner, Minho spots you from the porch and greets you.

“Good morning!” You jump out of your skin, nearly dropping your phone. You look up to see Minho leaning over the railing smiling at you.

“How’d you sleep, princess?” Minho’s cheeriness makes your brain hurt.

“Can you keep it down? It’s like 10 in the morning. Chill.” The sun shines right into Minho’s chocolatey eyes and you can see every variation of brown in his irises. They’re stunning. 

“Not feeling so well, huh?” You’re completely flabbergasted by his presence.

“How long have you been waiting there for me?”

Minho doesn’t expect you to ask. “Not…long.” He looks down at his hands and picks at some invisible dirt under his nails. Jisung appears behind him and slaps Minho on the back. He falls forward with an oomph from the force.

“Hey Hyung!” Jisung looks over Minho’s shoulder and sees you.

“Oh! Morning, Y/n!” His gummy smile on full display. 

“Is your whole household on uppers or something?” Placing your sunglasses on top of your head, you look around questioning if this is the twilight zone. Jisung takes in your appearance and notices how tired you look.

“Rough night?” he asks with a wince.

“Something like that,” you give Minho a pointed look. 

“Where you headed?” Minho asks.

“Coffee. Meeting a friend.”

Jisung slaps Minho on the back again. “Well, that is perfect!” Minho stands up straight and looks at Jisung angrily. The younger boy ignores him and continues, “We were just about to head that way. Want some company?” 

“Oh, um-,” the boys don’t give you a chance to answer, instead joining you on the sidewalk. Jisung loops his arm into yours.

“가자”

“What?”

“He means let’s go,” Minho answers for Jisung. 

“Okay, then, Ka-cha, I guess,” you try to repeat back. Minho and Jisung smile at your attempt.

You arrive at the diner and see Yuqi in your usual booth. She spots you and waves. Pulling you into a hug, she notices two guys standing awkwardly behind you and releases you.

“Uh, did you adopt some strays on the way here?” Jisung takes in the sight of your best friend and stares at her with big heart eyes, his mouth slightly agape. You notice Jisung’s expression and giggle.

“Jisung, Minho, this is Yuqi. Yuqi, Jisung, Minho.” You gesture to each person to make introductions. Minho leans in to shake Yuqi’s hand, but Jisung jumps in front of him, taking hold of her instead.

“Hi, I’m Jisung,” he practically shouts.

Yuqi flashes both boys a smile. “It’s nice to meet you.” She points for the two of them to sit down. Jisung eagerly takes the spot next to Yuqi leaving you and Minho on the other side of the booth.

“So how do you three know each other?” Yuqi asks.

“They live above me.”

“Do they now?” Yuqi gives you a flirty look that you refuse to entertain. 

After placing your orders, conversation flows easily between the four of you. 

“And what about you two? How do you know each other?” Yuqi motions between Jisung and Minho.

Jisung smiles and says, “We met in high school. He punched a guy who was bullying me. He’s basically my soulmate, isn’t that right 자기?”

“Shut up, Ji.” Minho laughs.

You look at Minho, “Ja-gi?”

“It means something like darling.”

“I see.”

“He’s just joking though,” Minho shrugs unconvincingly. 

“What are you talking about, 자기? Don’t lie to them!” Jisung pouts, making Yuqi laugh. 

He’s not one to go out of his way to connect with people, but he’d practically been taken hostage by Jisung and Felix. Whether it was Stockholm Syndrome or the balls of sunshine finally wearing him down, they eventually became his closest friends. Through Jisung he met Chris and Changbin. As a dance major he met Hyunjin who eventually introduced him to Jeongin and Seungmin. Minho grew up often feeling alone. His gruff personality could rub people the wrong way, but for whatever reason, his seven friends held onto him making him feel a part of something. A family.

Minho changes the subject and turns to speak to you, leaving Yuqi and Jisung to chat alone.

“Feeling any better?”

“Yeah, actually. A lot better.”

“Good.” He fiddles with his coffee cup as a comfortable silence falls over the two of you. You both smile watching your friends across the table flirt.

“Those two seem to be getting along.” Minho says quietly as he takes a sip of coffee.

“Yeah, they’re pretty cute.” Right on cue, your friends laugh at something amusing on Jisung’s phone. 

“You two close?” You look away from your friend to Minho.

“We are. I guess you could say she’s my Jagi.” Minho smiles at that.

“Was she at the same party as you last night?”

You lean back into the booth and nod, “She was.”

“She seems to be in better shape than you were this morning.”

“Yuqi doesn’t drink.” 

Minho nods. “So that makes you the drinker?”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, I’m kidding,” he says quickly to diffuse you.

“Is this fun for you?” Too late. 

“What?”

“Getting under my skin.” 

“Don’t make it so easy then.” He says teasingly, but you don’t take the joke.

“Dude, I just met you like yesterday.” 

“Why are you getting so mad? I was just joking. Relax.”

“Relax?”

He throws his hands in the air, defeated. “Why do you make it impossible to get to know you?”

You scoff and stand up. “Yuqi, we’re leaving.”

Yuqi looks away from Jisung, the two of them completely oblivious to your disagreement with Minho. 

“Right now?”

Minho leans back into the booth and crosses his arms. 

“Yes, come on.” You stand up from the booth and reach out for your friend’s hand. 

She looks at Jisung before reluctantly taking your hand. “Okay.” She waves goodbye to Jisung. You give him a wave as well, but ignore Minho who looks away from you. 

Jisung stands up and shouts, “I-I’ll see you around!” The door chimes as you both exit. 

“Hyung, I think I’m in love.”

Minho sighs. “You just met her.”

“Did I? Or have our souls been searching for each other across centuries and have finally reunited?” Minho just groans as he picks up his coffee cup. Jisung clutches his chest looking at the glass door before turning to Minho.

“You seem to have taken a liking to, Y/n.” 

Minho snorts into his coffee. “Absolutely not.”

Jisung just shakes his head. “And yet you waited on the porch for fifteen minutes until she finally left her apartment.”

“I-well, that was-” Minho stumbles over his words.

“Uh huh.” He throws the elder a satisfied smirk. Jisung could always see through Minho.

-

While walking back from class the next day you look up to see Minho’s window slightly ajar. A cloud of smoke forcing its way through the crack. Before you can stop yourself, you find your body standing at the threshold knocking on the front door. The door flies open and you're greeted by a beautiful blonde boy with freckles painted across his face. 

“Hello!” the beautiful blonde boy speaks, but it takes a moment for his words to register.

“Uh, hi!” You finally shout out. “I’m your neighbor from downstairs.”

Recognition flashes in his eyes. “Y/n! I’m Felix. I’ve heard so much about you!” he says as he pulls you into a hug.

“You have?” Your voice muffled as you speak into his chest. He releases you and holds you by your shoulders to look you over.

“Wow, you’re beautiful.” You feel your cheeks warm at the compliment.

“Oh, thank you. You are too.” He smiles and invites you in.

“So, Y/n, to what do we owe the pleasure?” You look over and notice he’s in the middle of a video game.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Felix follows your gaze to his paused game.

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t really…winning.” He grumbles as he scratches the back of his head.

“Well, I was just looking for-” As if summoned by your subconscious, Minho makes his way downstairs before you can even get his name out.

“Y/n?” You turn to see Minho at the base of the stairs. He’s shirtless wearing only gym shorts. His briefs peeking through. You force yourself to not look at his chest or lower and maintain eye contact. 

“Minho, hey…”

Felix watches the exchange, amused. “You came here for Minho, hyung?” People don’t usually make house calls for his grumpy resident cat. 

“Yeah.” You continue staring at Minho.

“What are you doing here?” He looks at Felix. The two exchange a silent word and Felix nods.

“I am going to check and see if my brownies are done.” He gently squeezes your arm to get your attention. “You’re welcome to one, if you would like.” You smile at him. Felix disappears into the kitchen leaving the two of you alone in the entrance of the house.

Minho closes the gap between you since you seem planted in your spot. He tilts his head. “Well?” He’s standing directly in front of you now. Before you can answer you notice a scar just below his ribs. Without thinking you trace the line with your finger. Minho’s stomach tightens beneath your touch and he lets out a strained breath.

“What happened?”

“It’s from when I was a baby. I had to have a procedure done.” You look up at him concerned, your finger still lightly touching the end of the scar.

“Are you okay now?” 

He affectionately laughs at your question. “Yeah, I’m okay.” Minho moves your hand away before the electrical current from your touch reaches any further south. He doesn’t let go of your hand though and instead stares at where your fingers are intertwined. The atmosphere shifts.

“Hey, hyung, can you help me with-” Jisung suddenly walks in, breaking the tension. “Y/n, hi!” You look at Jisung and shake your head ending the spell. 

“Sorry, I have to go!” You push past Minho after giving Jisung a wave and head to leave. 

Felix calls out to you from the kitchen, “Y/n, your brownie!”

“Next time!” You rush out and close the door behind you.

Jisung looks at Minho blinking. “What was that about?”

“I have no idea,” he says in disbelief. He walks over to the window and watches as you hurriedly walk down the street and out of view.

-

Minho sits at a table studying when he spots you entering the library. It had been a few days since he last saw you. Your touch now seared on his scar. He felt you every time he closed his eyes and despite himself, he craved your nearness. As if possessed, he abandons his books and follows you into the maze of the stacks. 

It takes some time to find you, but when he does you’re at the end of an aisle at the very back of the library. He can feel his heart beat into his ears. Sensing a presence, you look up from your book and are surprised to meet Minho’s eyes. He stands at the opposite end of the aisle waiting for a signal. You place your book down and face him. Minho takes a tentative step in your direction, then another. You take one too until you're both rushing to close the gap. It probably doesn’t make sense to an outsider, but the two of you were drawn to each other like magnets. Maybe it didn’t make sense to you either. Did you even like Minho? Did it matter? It didn’t, not as he crashed his lips against yours and pushed you into the bookshelf. Electricity crackling between the two of you.

Minho grips the shelf behind him to steady himself. Your hands immediately begin exploring his body. You could feel every outline of his muscles beneath your palms and his skin ignites from your touch. He pushes his hard length into your center as he kisses down your neck. Minho starts sucking and you know it's going to leave a mark. You don’t care. What you didn’t expect was for him to bite you. The pain sends pleasure through your middle and a cry escapes your mouth. This elicits a growl from Minho as his hands begin to hurriedly pull up your jean skirt. You feel his Adam's apple bob as you lick up and down the length of his throat. You then graze your teeth along his jawline. It was your turn to leave marks. Your skirt now up to your hips, Minho completely exposes you to him. You lift your head and look around. 

“What if someone sees?”

“Just look at me.” And you do. Everything around you, the books, the shelves disappear. It’s just the two of you alone. He can feel your arousal as he cups your sex.

“So wet for me, princess. And here I thought you didn’t like me.”

“I don’t.” 

He raises an eyebrow and smirks.

You smack his chest. "Shut up.” He lets out a husky laugh as he places his lips on your shoulder. 

“Bite me again and I’ll kick your nuts.”

“Noted.” You felt him smile against your skin. Minho pushes your panties aside and slides two fingers in without hesitation. You let out a breath not realizing you had been holding one in. 

“Fuck.” You clench around his fingers as you take him in.

“You’re so warm,” he moans. He starts pushing in and out of you as your wetness quickly coats his hand. 

“Kiss me.” He brings his lips to yours and you bite at him needily.

“But I can’t bite you?”

“I swear to god if you ruin this right now with that mouth of yours…”

Minho removes his fingers from you and drops to his knees. “What? This mouth?” 

“Minho, what are-” before you could protest, he licks up your wet folds making you shiver. The tip of his tongue pushes at your clit.

“Yes, more!” Minho slowly circles around before sucking harshly. “Ooh, baby. Like that,” you purr. That nearly sends him over his edge. He palms his bulge with his free hand to adjust himself before he slides his fingers back in. Minho now pumps relentlessly and you can hear your wetness squelch with every movement. 

“Too much!” But Minho doesn’t relent. 

You grip his hair pulling and pushing him further into you. He groans, sending a vibration through your pussy and you moan loudly. 

“Keep your voice down,” he whispers.

“F-fuck you-u,” Minho chuckles as he resumes eating you out. He hikes your leg over his shoulder and the new angle gives his long fingers better reach. Minho can feel the ribs of your walls enclose him tightly and he knows you’re close. Your breathing becomes shallow as your orgasm rises through your body and stars dot your vision. Minho tongues your clit harder and forces a third digit inside of you. You grind against him as you finally come into his mouth. You have to use all your strength to hold in your cries and grip the shelf behind you to stay grounded. Minho doesn’t let up, letting you ride out your orgasm while he laps up your ecstasy. You whimper as you shake from overstimulation. 

Minho finally releases you and stands. He puts your panties back in place and pulls your skirt down. His lips, nose, and chin are covered in your essence making your middle tighten in pleasure. Minho licks each finger individually, not letting a drop go to waste.

“So sweet.”

He wipes his face with the back of his sleeve once he finishes. Still coming down from your high, you don’t realize how closely you're leaning against the bookshelf. Your fingers gripping the shelf so hard your knuckles are white. Minho notices and takes hold of your hands to help you upright. Tension leaves your fingers as he places feather light kisses across your knuckles. All you can do is stare into Minho’s brown eyes. He smiles at your blissed out state and leans into your ear. “See you around, princess.” Minho releases your hands and disappears, leaving you absolutely stunned.

MASTERLIST

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Tag List: @linocz @queenmea604

xx

[ethereal-night-fairy]

To the Edge of Chaos

Chapter 1

Pirate!Gaz x Female Reader (of mixed Arab decent)

Safe to say your initial plan at robbery back fired in more ways than one. The second attempt went much much worse yet somehow by the mercy of God you aren't dead. Just trapped...on a ship...with no way out. Well not until you pay for your indiscretions made against a certain sailing master that is...

Was this a blessing in disguise? Or did you just enter a new kind of hell?

Warnings: MNDI mention of death, trauma and difficult situations, embarrassing moments, fluff and teasing, slight bullying, mention of kissing and other touching but nothing explicit, slight dub con if you squint, talk of death and mourning, crude language, attempted SA and torture (not by Gaz or the 141), Lots of blood and some gore towards the end of the chapter, talk of revenge, talk of heritage, sorry if I missed any.

To the Edge of Chaos

Masterlist

Words: 7.1k

The Sun was sweltering, practically beating down molten rays on your delicate skin. You weren't used to feeling the burn of the afternoon sun. Your fragile composition wasn't adequately prepared for the dehydration that followed. Especially not with the light reflecting off blue waves almost blinding you. White entered your vision, shooting a stinging pain throughout your eyes.

You were overwhelmed, overbearingly so. So much was going on at once. Too much to pay attention to if you wanted to stay sane for a while longer. Burning heat, sweating palms, queasy stomach. Your legs found themselves moving towards the railing in a hurry. Strong winds, crashing waves, people shouting. Your ears buzzed, your brain's way of signaling an oncoming headache. One that was threatening to throw you overboard. Much like your breakfast.

Sweat trickled down your back as your body lurched with the motions of the ship. It caused your stomach to clench with unease. Your hands gripped the railing so tight that you were afraid the wood would come away with your swaying. But you still held on. Why did everyone else make it look so easy?

You clearly weren't built to walk on ships it seems…

The hussle and bussle of your new surroundings was a welcomed distraction. Moving bodies, resulted in a busy mind. Busy minds had no time to mourn or to think about past sins. You preferred it like that. You hadn't had the time to fall apart. Not among strangers that is. A change in scenery would probably do you some good. But you'd be lying if you said you were adjusting well to it.

Having never done manual labour, you had a lot to prove to gain any ounce of respect from your new companions. Regardless of the fact that your presence here was forced. By your own doing but still forced. Escaping pirates was a lot more difficult than you anticipated. There was no use dwelling on the unfortunate circumstances that had led you to try to rob him a second time… the first time you chickened out pretty quickly.

Calls could be heard overhead for sails to be adjusted. It was probably the Captain. Captain Price as you were to call him. You haven't spoken to him since Gaz had all but begged for you to be let on board. Nothing out of the ordinary of course. He was a busy man and it was a busy ship. Easily over a 100 men and women, mostly men though. You hadn't had the time to introduce yourself to everyone but a few familiar faces were starting sticking out to you now. Some you definitely preferred to avoid.

Despite not knowing anyone closely you've already accumulated a nickname among the diverse crew. You didn't want to dive into the details of how they had decided on it. You were still lamenting the stupid decision that led to it.

“Watch yer head Fish boy!” The awful nickname rings out as the other crew members brush past you. You don't get the time to feel embarrassed as Farah calls for ropes to be adjusted from the crowsnest. You duck out of their way to the best of your ability. Your legs are still a little unsteady forcing you to grab onto the nearest structure to hold you up. Which unfortunately happened to be a person.

Whoever it was, they laugh as you clutch onto them for support while the rest of the crew go about their duties. It's only when you turn your head that you realise you've made a dire mistake. Dire to your self esteem that is.

His mirthful blue eyes bore into yours while apologies dripped from your chapped lips. Not that it would spare you from what you were about to experience. You flail about, desperately trying to find something else to hold onto. Desperately trying to find an escape from whatever it was he was about to subject you to.

“Come on lad! Find yer sea legs! Farah likes ‘er deck in tip top shape,” you watch the man who you now know as Soap (or Johnny as Ghost liked to call him) grab you by the back of the collar as you quickly wipe your mouth clean.

He seems a little childish to be stationed as a Master Gunner. But you didn't run this ship so it shouldn't bother you who had what job. But it did…it very much did.

Him having easy access to guns made your blood run cold because he was also the man who wanted you dead not long ago (not that he realises who you truly are). You shiver envisioning a situation where he did know. What would he do to you?

He hauled you over to where you were needed or ‘stationed’ to be more accurate. Not that you knew what you were doing but cleaning shouldn't be too hard. Or ‘swabbing the deck’ as Farah (the Boatswain) had put it. You just needed to stop making a mess first.

“Oh ye fragile thing! Come on scrub like ye mean it!”, he continues his teasing while you grab a brush to scrub the deck. The other men watch snickering to themselves at situations you've found yourself in.

“What? Never worked ah day in yer life? Ah don't think we'll keep ye long if ye don't cop on.” The men around you laugh again at his words, enjoying the torment he was putting you through. A right of passage if you will. Not that you appreciated it one bit. How many days will it go on for? You knew you weren't the strongest or the smartest for that matter but you were sure you could be of some use. You just needed to find out what it was.

“I'm sorry sir…I'll try harder”, you tense your aching muscles trying to put more weight down on the brush to appease the man behind you. The threat of being left behind at the next port wasn't settling well in your stomach. You felt you were about to be sick again. You looked around hoping to spot Gaz to aid you but he wasn't around. Your heart sinks with disappointment but you continue scrubbing.

“Come on fish boi! Earn yer keep! You can't keep relying on Gaz to save you.” The crew around you join in on the jeering while shame creeps up your neck right to your ears. With your already heated skin. The situation was making your skin crawl.

You hated people looking at you so closely. It puts you on edge. Especially now that you couldn't wear your veils anymore. You were so used to being hidden that the attention wasn't at all welcomed. You haven't worn them since you escaped the dungeons of the palace. The whole ensemble would draw too much attention especially when you were disguising yourself as a boy.

“Ah pretty face ain't gonna cut it here. Not like it did for Gaz that is,” before Soap could reduce you to a pile of tears you watch Farah climb down from the crows nest pulling up her sleeves as she strides on over. Her mere presence demanded all your attention.

And what a woman she was..so much confidence in her stride alone. It made you feel both safe and inadequate all at once. You wanted to be like that, resilient like her, strong like her, fearless like her.

She delivers a hefty smack just as Soap's about to open his big mouth again. Which again is met with laughter from the crew. You see quite a few women laughing now too.

“Thats rich coming from someone who's warms the bed of our Quartermaster don't you think?”

“Hey that hurt! And besides ah have other uses apart from my pretty face unlike fish boi,” Soap rubs the back of his head to alleviate the sting while he turns to face the shorter woman. Yet it seemed somehow Farah stood taller, leveling him with an unamused look. You were surprised he was so open about his relationship but then again everything goes on pirate ships it seems. Before Farah can defend you another voice rings out across the deck.

“Actually he has plenty of uses, you just won't have the pleasure of experiencing them..”, the warm sultry voice that you hated yourself for liking makes itself known in the form of Gaz climbing onto the main deck from the side of the ship.

Must have been fixing something.

Your eyes roam his body, keying in on the sweat dripping down his open beige shirt. His brass necklace gleams around his neck. The amber stones adorning it as beautiful as they were, didn't come close to the beauty of his eyes.

Once you realise you were ogling you try to look away quickly as you could. But Gaz being the sly man he is, catches you at the last second despite continuing his conversation with Soap. A sinister smirk graces his features. One that you're all too familiar with. Especially when you share a hammock with him at night. He winks at you openly causing the crew to whistle at his gesture.

“I can't believe the captain allowed ye tae bring yer boy toy on board.” Soap jokes wrapping his arms around Gaz. They looked like old friends who enjoyed teasing each other. Soap certainly loves any chance to tease anyone in his vicinity.

“You hardly have the right to complain when you get to share a private room with Ghost.” Soap laughs at his comment and there's no offense in his eyes. You suspected he liked the attention.

“Perks or being pretty and useful it seems. I'm sure Ghost would have loved you too but I think I'm more his type.”

“Didn't know ‘annoying’ was his type. But then again it must be if he’s going to deal with your drunk ass all the time.” The crew join in on the jeering until Soap starts up again unfazed by it.

Thick skin unlike you.

“You forgot about the part about me being extremely handsome.” Soap flexes his muscles earning him chuckles from the men and women around him.

“I think the power is getting to your head mate. Might have to put in a formal complaint with the captain.” Gaz smacks Soap's arm when he doesn't stop his ridiculous flexing. You watch as Farah rolls her eyes at their stupid banter before ushering Soap towards the hull.

“Run along, don't you have some actual work to do? Unless you want to go report to your lover as to why you have a handprint on your cheek,” she looks at him sternly

“Aye ah was just on meh way,” But before he leaves Soap pulls you into a headlock. It takes you by surprise as you try to worm your way out around his thick biceps.

“Work hard fish boi,” he laughs as you continue your struggle to escape. He lets go quickly but ruffles your hair which you assumed was his way of apologising.

He sends you off with a hefty smack to the shoulder. One that almost sends you flying to the floor. Farah shouts at him from behind voicing her annoyance. While you rub your shoulder to alleviate some of the ache.

Were men always this rough? Your experience with them was minimal so you weren't all that used to the touching or the rough treatment for that matter. You're shocked they even bothered to allow you on board after you tried to rob their star treasure hunter and Sailing Master but then again Gaz had insisted on you being here (to pay him back more specifically).

Your weary eyes find his again only to see him supporting an amused expression. He gives you a final wink before following after Soap.

“Ok back to work everyone! Ayah! Alex! On the foremast ropes, make sure they're secure.”

“Aye Didi” “Yes ma’am” You watch as another veiled woman and a blond man make their way to the foremast deck. The foreign words used aren't lost on your ears. You recognise the few you learned growing up. Mostly from your wet nurse and your personal maids after your mother's passing. You bet she would have taken great joy in teaching you, were she alive today.

You only have old portraits to reference her appearance to. Well not even that anymore given your circumstances. Many of the crew members either spoke the language fluently or in broken terms. It left something wanting in your heart. Having been denied learning anything to do with your mother's heritage, a bitterness settles on your tongue at the loss of something you never got to experience.

“Don't mind him. He doesn't mean harm. The men here like playing about,” you hear Farah approach you with sympathy. You just nod at her, unable to look her in the eyes due to the mix of feelings you were experiencing.

The next hour is spent with Farah teaching you to keep steady and how to scrub the deck efficiently despite probably having more important work to do. She was patient and kind but still stern enough to get the message across. Like an older sister. She made it clear you'd need to pull your weight or you wouldn't be staying long on this ship. Once she leaves you go back to throwing water on boards and scrubbing them to the best of your ability. At least your nausea wasn't so bad anymore.

-some time later

You try to focus on work, truly you do. But your body was sore from the events of a couple nights ago. Events that have led you to work on this boat. Whether you wanted to or not.

Gaz was near the captain now with a map in hand planning their next destination to god knows where. It wasn't like you had a say in where you were going. Definitely not after what happened at the river.

The skin on your lips tingles with the memory of what he did to you in the early hours of today. Salty winds sting the broken skin where he last touched you. Where he last set your skin alight. Automatically your hand reaches up to the pendant around your neck. The fiery crystal hums under your fingertips.

The magic hiding your identity, tingles across your heated skin, a constant reminder that you weren't safe here. Not completely that is.

You were convinced that he was the devil's incarnate with the way he had you pliant within seconds of having his hands on you. The last couple of nights have followed a similar structure. With him ushering you to his private corner to do unspeakable things to you. Only a filmey curtain hiding you from the sleeping crew.

He must be the devil. It's the only logical explanation as to why your mind is riddled with thoughts of him even now when you should be focusing on earning your keep and staying safe.

But despite the chiding you've given yourself, your eyes still gravitate towards his radiant face. They still seek his mischievous smile for what feels like the hundredth time today. Probably over a hundred.

You've caught yourself looking at him far too often for it to be considered normal by any means. You'd think growing up in a royal household, your lessons in decorum would kick in at some point. But no, your mind has completely betrayed you and your body was following closely behind.

You couldn't trust yourself to act with rationality especially not under his smoldering gaze. It's gotten so bad that you've even gotten a couple crew members teasing you for your crush. Despite everyone but Gaz thinking you were a boy.

You needed to get a grip on yourself. You had way more important things to worry about. Like surviving longer than a couple of days on this ship.

You didn't understand why that was proving more difficult than convincing someone pigs could fly. Hell, you'll have an easier time convincing someone pigs could fly than convincing them you didn't have a crush on Gaz.

You try to shut off your brain, try to focus solely on the tasks assigned to you. But flashes of his beautiful face still haunt your mind. They infect your senses forcing you to relive the moments you keep trying to push down. Memories of his hands on your waist, his lips on your skin, his breath fanning your face. Amber eyes striping you of your defenses.

You needed to get a grip. Easier said than done.

Those kisses don't mean anything to him. Not the kisses, not his feverish touches. That's what you kept telling yourself. It couldn't have meant anything to him. He was a pirate for one and two he had plenty of women throwing themselves into his arms.

What were you in that sea of women?

...Just another grain of sand…

That's what you've kept repeating since the incident at the river. Despite this you find yourself licking the sweet remnants of his smile off your sore bitten lips, the lips he forced apart with his tongue. The lips he stole your very breath from.

You're still unable to get the feeling of him holding your jaw ever so delicately out of your mind, or the way his hands found themselves over your throat the second you had touched his coin purse at the moment you had tried to rob him. Or earlier today how his hands slowly found their way to your hips and then to your…

Your eyes burn into the wood of the deck you’re scrubbing as a way to distract yourself from the forbidden events that occurred in the early hours of this morning.

-midnight, four nights ago

You were a fool, an utter fool.

God knows what gave you the confidence to think you could seduce a pirate. And a very handsome pirate at that. One that was surrounded by beautiful women while you were dressed like a servant boy.

The alcohol probably compromised your thinking for a little bit. Glad you came to your senses then.

The red pendant on your neck heated against your skin indicating it was working to conceal your feminine features. It was only a light glamour at best you still had to bind your chest in case anyone tried touching you unexpectedly. It was too dangerous to take everything off just to seduce him. He had a harem of women already hanging over his every word, what need did he have for you?

You could hardly compete with their full bosoms and beautiful curves. Not dressed like this anyway. You weren't competing with anyone dressed like a street rat. Maybe you could just ask for some work to do in exchange for some coins and then you'd be on your merry way to safety. Yeah that option was more diplomatic. You didn't want to steal if you didn't have to.

You mull around for a bit, coming up with the best approach to guarantee your success. The second you work up the confidence to approach him, you stride over with all the poise you can muster.

That was your first mistake. Because not even a second later the eyes of nine ferocious felines descended upon you like hell fire. You freeze in front of them like a lost cub. Playing the part of someone who was clearly out of their depth. Your hands shook as you tried to introduce yourself but you couldn't even find the resolve to utter a single word. Let alone maintain eye contact with anyone. Your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, much to the amusement of the woman and men watching you. Fuck..say something idiot.

Any poise you had prior to this vanished in the time it takes for a pirate to down his rum. Which you watched the majestic man do as you stood there frozen in place. The umber liquid trickled down his throat as you stared at his adam's apple bob. His sharp eyes studied you like a hawk on the lookout for prey. Licking off the remnants of the sweet nectar of his lips, his kohl covered eyes scrutinize you up and down.

Curiosity was evident all over his face. Heat followed his eyes as if he was appraising your worth, appraising your value. Practically sizing up meat to put on a butcher's block. The other men weren't much different. They eyed you with suspicion but also intrigue. You presume not many people come up to them asking for things.

The longer they stared, the quicker you wanted the ground to swallow you whole, wanted the shadows to consume you, wanted to dissolve into nothingness. The men of his crew began snickering to themselves while a woman put her arms around the handsome man's neck making sure to whisper seductively in his ear. But his eyes never strayed from yours nor did his expression change. Or the expression of the man beside him.

The woman's hard eyes locked with yours before she and her friends burst into laughter. You had no idea what she had said and you definitely didn't want to find out. Mortification painted your face while heat licked at every inch of your skin. With your nails digging into your palms you hastily backtrack still unable to voice a single sentence to save any ounce of respect one would have for themselves.

You escape with your head down low as the crew bellowed in laughter, clearly entertained by the spectacle you made of yourself.

You rush out into the cold night not looking where you were going only to collide with a brick wall. Great, make an even bigger fool out of yourself, why don't you.

You stumble back only for two large hands to steady you before you fall. Strong but gentle hands.

“Careful there boi. Watch where you're goin,” a gruff voice rings out. Your body shuts down for a second before jolting back to life. You tint your head up only to realise you've bumped into the very man you told yourself to stay away from. His obsidian eyes pierced into yours, paralysing your tongue with fear akin to venom. The night air tore into your delicate flesh as you trembled in his oddly gentle grasp.

He was a ghastly sight. That alone was enough to have you shivering with fear. With a broken skull that seemed fused to his face it looked as if death had come to deliver you to an early grave. But before you could scream or try to say anything another person joins the conversation.

“Ghost…*hiccup* please..one more.. just..one more glass…promise ah'll be.. ah’ll be good old boi *hiccup*,” you watch the man with odd haircut stumble his way away from the walk to clutch onto the back of the beastly man who was holding your shoulders. The man let's go of you with a defeated sigh only to gently hoist up his friend who clearly had too much to drink.

“Enough of that Johnny I'm taking you back to the ship.” The man called Ghost gives you a final nod before helping his friend onto his back to carry to wherever their ship was. You watch the drunk man mumble his frustration as he rests his head on the bigger man's shoulder.

Maybe you were too harsh to judge him. He seemed decent enough for a pirate if not a bit rough around the edges. He didn't seem malicious though.

You take a second to catch your breath before tightening the cloak around you. The night air was chilling you to the bone and you had nowhere to rest. Best to keep moving. It was safer that way.

-a little while before dawn

The sky took on a lilac hue as the cold air eased up on its bite. You were exhausted, truly exhausted. Your feet were now trudging along with difficulty, but despite this you knew you had to keep going.

There were many streets you shouldn't have ended up on last night. Many times forcing you to make quick detours for your own safety. But somehow you still managed to almost get dragged into an alley, twice in one night alone. Thankfully you had a dagger on you, courtesy of your uncle.

It was an heirloom from your mother's side. Gifted to you on your coming of age ceremony by your father. The ceremony you remember disappearing from the second the important parts were over. The nobles never really liked you.

You laugh remembering that you spend the day hiding in the kitchen rather than greeting guests. That was this time three years ago. You don't think you've attended many events after that, not if you could avoid them that is. You wonder if your uncle was ok. Was the royal council in shambles at your disappearance? What were they going to do once they found out the execution wasn't going to happen?

Your mind wanders as you spot some merchants wheeling their goods to the market. The smell of freshly baked bread caused your stomach to constrict in pain. It's been a while since you've eaten well. The dungeons weren't the most accommodating towards you.

The food reminded you of more simple days when your personal maid would bring you fresh fruits and scones for breakfast. Faiza was her name. The daughter of your mother's personal maid. She was one of your best friends. One who'd often conspire with you on the best plan to avoid your classes for the day. That memory seemed so distant now. You wondered what happened to her after your arrest.

Law studies were never really your forte nor were any of the other boring and tedious classes you were forced to attend. Not that you actually attended them. It was done out of spite really. You hated the royal tutors as much as they hated you.

They denied you the knowledge you wished to attain. It was often snatched from you. Books ripped to shreds when you were caught with them. Your mother's history, her native language, her home, her heritage. You were denied everything. You were denied parts of yourself.

You don't understand why the marriage happened between your parents if all the noble families hated your mother so much. At least your father loved her.

Your father tried to help the best he could but his hands were often tied. Because of the guilt he held he never forced the role of crown princess on you despite you being the only heir to the throne. He valued your happiness above anything else. You suppose he gave you all the freedom he could.

But you're understanding now how selfish that was of you. Especially when you had duties to look after, people to care for. Funny how you only realise how good life was once everything gets taken from you. There was so much guilt in your heart, you felt disgusted with yourself. There was an urge to claw at your skin in rage. But you held yourself back.

You couldn't fall apart right now, not when you were so weak. The men here would eat you alive at the first drop of blood. Like hounds sniffing for prey, any cut on you would lead wolves to your den. You steel yourself the best you can, fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill over.

Your heart ached with the memories of your father and a mother you never got to know. Now left alone with no family to turn to. You pulled your cloak around you tighter, mimicking the way your father would often tuck you into bed when you were little.

He was a kind and forgiving king and an even more forgiving father. Far too kind, far too trusting for his own good. But so were you. You had learned it from him. Neither of you saw this situation coming until it was too late.

Now death haunts you while guilt runs through your veins. You needed to prove your innocence. For your father's sake if not your own.

But for that you needed money to survive. Which you didn't have much off. The last few pennies chime in your hidden purse. It wouldn't be enough, you know it wouldn't.

This side of the city was very different to the streets you were used to. There was an air of pain here you couldn't really describe or explain. Things were gloomier, more stout, less vibrant. You see children as little as four doing menial labour to survive. A sight you were never accustomed to. You keep your head low as you wander near the stalls.

One bread wouldn't hurt to take, right?

But that wasn't the right thing to do. You were raised better than that. The merchants seemed to be struggling themselves. Maybe you could ask to help in exchange for bread. The only reason you were going to steal from the pirates was because you looked like they had plenty to spare and the majority of it was probably stolen from some nobles anyway. So that knowledge made it somewhat acceptable in your mind.

You make your way towards the baker to ask if you could work in exchange for some food but before you can reach the market centre some naval officers saunter in from the east side. They were clearly drunk as they stumbled down the cobblestone road while mirthfully laughing at their own stupid jokes. You could practically smell the booze off them from where you stood.

“Oi pretty girl! Yeah you! Do ye have permits to sell here!” You watch one of guards stumble his way towards the stall of a pretty young woman. It's not long after that his friends are crowding her too. You watch them puff out their chest, trying to appear bigger than they were. They looked like fools.

“Permit? I w-wasn’t told about any permits”, the poor woman stands there perplexed by the question, unable to come up with an answer to the rapid words the men were spewing at her. She's fresh faced, new to business anyone could see that from a glance. Her stall is small with only a few flowers and medicinal herbs on display. Cowards picking on someone smaller than them.

“Yeah, a permit! You think just anyone is allowed to sell around the market!?”, you watch as a younger guard slur out his words at the poor woman. He was practically spitting his annoyance at her.

“I'm sorry sir I didn't know! Please forgive me! I'll pack up right away!” The woman hastily tries to pack and get away from the vile men but a blond bearded guard snatches her arms as she tries to put away her goods. Something boils in your blood as you watch the mannerisms they were subjugating her to.

You looked around perplexed that no one was willing to help. Everyone either ignores what was going on or looks away hastily to avoid making eye contact with the guards. How often did this happen?

“No can do sweetheart. We'll have to lock you up for the sale of illegal goods. Come with us!”, you watch as they try to haul her feeble figure across the road with them. She struggles and begs but no one does anything.

“Please sir! I have a sick sister to care of! Please spare me! It won't happen again!”, you're trembling with rage as you watch on but still unable to move. Fear grips your limbs cementing you in place.

Coward, do something! You have a dagger! Do something! Do anything!

“If you don't want to go to prison love, we have other ways for you to repay us,” the naval officers laugh as if this whole situation was a joke to them. You watch one of the men squeeze the woman's hips as she cries in pain.

At that point you don't know what came over but you grab the biggest rock laying nearby, hurling it towards the man who had his hands on her.

“Ah fuck! Who threw that!” The rock hits him square in the head, pretty hard at that too. Blood pools on his receding hairline as he clutches his head in agony. But you can't seem to care. Your nerves were vibrating and if no one was going to help, you would!

The whole group turns towards you in anger while hushed whispers circulate through the market. You watch as people duck behind their stall for safety anticipating the brawl they were about to witness.

“Me you stupid Pig!” In for a penny in a for pound as they say. You've already hit them once. What's a few more times going to do?

“Run!”, you shout at the sobbing woman before hurling rocks at the drunk officers. Adrenaline courses through your veins while you continue throwing your projectiles at them, taking great joy in their anger and pain. You watch the rocks soar through the air, landing on with a satisfying thud and a musical scream that follows.

At least your archery lessons paid off in some sense. Your understanding of range was pretty good. It was the most alive you've felt in a long time. Not counting the time you managed to slip truth serum into the punch at a ball. That was an extremely good day. So many snobby nobles got punished for insulting the royal family.

Well insulting you more specifically for your mixed blood. It's the reason you wore veils at events and in public. It would piss them off to no end. Since it was something your mother often used. Even your portraits are all with some sort of veil obstructing your face. You used it so often everyone's forgotten what you look like.

But now you couldn't wear it, it would draw too much attention since it was associated with your identity. And now that technically you were considered a boy. A cloak was the best thing you could find adjacent to what you used to wear.

“You stupid little prick! We'll drag you through the gutters for th- Fuck! Stop!” You continue to land hit after hit as you watch the woman finally put a decent distance between herself and the men. She runs like her life depended on it while you continue your onslaught.

That is until you realise the guards were getting far too close for comfort.

“Just wait till we get our hands on you!” Their faces were flushed red from rage and it gave you some sick satisfaction that you were able to piss them off. Filthy swines, they deserved every ounce of pain!

You send a final rock soaring directly into the loins of the blond man before turning and running away as fast as you could.

“Ugh! I'll fucking skin you alive boy!” You don't get to hear the rest of his cursing as you skid and duck into a nearby alley. The men give chase, hot on your trail despite them being drunk. But you were well aware of how dangerous drunk men could be like. Especially men who had any ounce of power to wield.

You navigate the winding alleys with difficulty but are still able to manage to stay ahead for the time being. Buildings blur past you as you stay vigilant on your path. But running was proving to be difficult on an empty stomach. And your muscles seemed on the brink of collapse not long after weaving through the roads.

Winds whips by your face as you hold your hood in place to protect your identity. The small streets split into many smaller routes causing you to panic in your choice, you run right not being familiar with the area.

A very bad choice it turns out to be. A wall blocks your way. The stone abrasive over your panicked hands. You hear their voice gaining up on you but you can't turn back. You'd be caught between them if you did.

Your mind races with a solution and the only thing you can do is try to climb over it before it's too late. Sharp stones dig into your delicate flesh while your arms scream in pain as you pull yourself up with great difficulty.

Your only halfway up when they come into view. Their bodies hunched over as their faces scrunched up in rage. Your legs dangle down as you try pushing yourself over. You're able to hurry over just as they try to drag your legs down. Their inhibitions were clearly lacking as they slurred curses at you as you escaped. You laugh as you hear the men groan in frustration.

Your relief is short lived to your utter shock. What you hadn't taken into account was that one of them had taken a different route and was now blocking your exit when you had climbed down, essentially trapping you between him and the wall.

“Nowhere to run now little mouse. We'll show you what we do to disobedient little boys.” He lears at you. The bleeding man looks ready to rip you to shreds. Your blood runs cold all the bravo you were experiencing had vanished in the matter of seconds. Despite this you prepare yourself to run past him.

But luck isn't on your side anymore. You try to swerve him in a panic, only to be thrown to the ground. Pain shoots up your elbow that slams into the stone. Fuck that hurt.

You hope you didn't break it. The rest of the men had climbed over by this point so there were three to your back and a large man to your front. Hastily you try to scramble to get off the ground despite the shooting pain everywhere, only to be kicked back down.

Your muscles scream in pain as the younger officer steps on your leg to keep you imobile. Your bone bends under the pressure threatening to break into two. Your nerve endings beg you to stay down, they beg you to surrender lest you break something. But you don't listen. You couldn't not when you knew what they were about to do to you.

“Don't touch me you pigs!”, you fight, you kick, you scream, you do anything to get out of their hold. Your body was ignited with rage you've never experienced before but it wasn't enough to escape the hold of four men.

“Shut it you brat!”, the man you had hit on the head tries to cover your mouth with his grimy hands while the rest of the men hold you down. But you bite down hard resulting in him back handing you as he screamed in agony. You spit out whatever filth entered your mouth, afraid it'll give you some disease. The second time he backhands you, you feel your lip slit. The metallic taste felt heavy on your tongue as blood coated your mouth.

“Hold him down idiot!”, the vile man shouted. While you continued to fight with all your might.

“I'm trying!” Greedy hands roam your body trying to unbutton your cloak. But you continued your fight, continued the struggle. Your skin crawls with disgust. This time you land a mean kick to the groin of the person trying to take your clothes off.

“Ugh You stupid bastard!” Their pain gives you enough momentum and shock value to grab the dagger in your boot to slice across the men holding you. They scream and move back enough for you to dig the dagger deeper into the man blocking your exit. The vile bastard you had no remorse for.

A spray of blood splatters across your face as you pull the dagger out of his thigh with a sickening squelch. The warm liquid felt odd on your chilled skin. It pooled around you like a spreading disease.

Blood curdling screams bounce off the walls surrounding you. But your hearing is obstructed by blood rushing to your ears. The noises don't deter you as you continue slicing across the air and their skin as they try approach you.

You're pretty sure you might have sliced someone's finger off since it lay on the floor beside you. But you couldn't stay to make sure it was your doing.

Everything from that point is a blur, you're covered in crimson. Red sticky fluid painting your hands and knees. Your body forces you to block out their curses and screams. The walls are stained red. Bodies lay covered in pools of blood. It was all too much.

You run, you don't look back, eyes always ahead. Dagger heavy in your hand you continue running, passing by unfamiliar streets and houses until only your heartbeat could be heard by you.

Red stained your vision. It haunted your sight. It was everywhere, absolutely everywhere. Blood on the ground, blood on the walls, blood on your hands. Skin marred with deep gashes and cuts. Sticky substance coating everything. Severed body parts. Streams of red chasing your feet. A river of crimson was carving its path towards you.

You push it down focusing on yourself. Your heart, your breathing, your pain. Nothing else, only you. Only you. You needed to worry about you. Streets blur until they start getting sparser and sparser giving way to familiar green lush. A serene haven at the edge of what felt like a crimson hell.

It's only when you break away completely from the hard stone roads do you collapse onto the grass gasping for air like your life depended on it. The wretched smell of metallic iron finally dissipates if only a little bit. You felt like you could breathe again.

You look back making sure the city is out of sight before you try sitting down for a second. Your heart continues to hammer as you look down at your blood stained hands, dagger still held tightly.

What have you done..Did you kill them?

You don't get the time to dwell on it when you hear distant shouts of people screaming. They know…the blood is on your hands..of course they know…

Hide! You needed to hide!

Using a nearby tree to haul yourself up you try to find your footing again. Your muscles scream at you to stop and rest but your mind told you to run. And run you do. Deep into the forest where the trees shrouded your sins. Where they blocked out the screams.

You needed to find water to clean the blood away. Something to wash away the sin….

Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies.

[mvltisstuff]

Hi

I have a Buck (911) fic idea. Buck saved reader at the tsunami. Reader can't swim that good, so she was really scared and he comforted her. Reader took care of Christopher while Buck was saving other people. Two weeks or something after the tsunami they meet again. Maybe reader is working at coffee shop and they meet there. Reader can't stop saying thank you to Buck and maybe he asks her on a date at the end.

You don't have to write this if you don't want to. I got this idea and thought I'll send it to you.

arms of a stranger - e.b

summary: request above :)

evan buckley x reader

the tsunami had entirely taken out a whole community and a street of small businesses. it came rushing through, causing immediate calamity and jeopardy. not the most ideal first date, but definitely gets you closer to strangers.

the first wave had washed buck and christopher off of the pier, sending them away with bits and pieces of the structure. y/n had been shoved under the waves, which were horrifying but also marvelous. her lungs were filling with water and sand from the shores. it felt like every time she came up it wasn’t worth anything, as she would be pulled back under seconds later.

she heard the screams from buck, hearing the sharp yells of someone’s name. the adrenaline in her system kept her brain moving speedily and her heart beating fast. the red engine had sparkled out of the corner of her eye from the sizzling sun of california. she forced herself over, when the man gripped her arms and pulled her on. she bent over, coughing up water and leaning back on the truck.

“hey, are you ok?” he asks, worried.

“yeah, i’ll be fine. are you two alright?”

“we’re good, just scared shitless,” buck chuckles a little, trying to bring a little light to the disaster.

“same, i’m no mermaid.”

“it’s going to be alright, ok? i’m here for you,” he reassures immediately. he must have an instinct to protect people, she thinks.

y/n vividly remembers sitting next to christopher, watching buck save other people, and bring them to the top of the truck. she remembers the exact feeling of her jeans sticking to her thighs and her scraped arms from the wood and sticks in the water. he was just a little boy, he didn’t deserve to be in the middle of such a mess. when people had succumbed to the oceans, she covered his eyes to maintain his innocence whilst she couldn’t look away.

buck had come back and forth, saving several people. she immediately admired him. you have no idea the amount of courage and selflessness it takes to put yourself in the eye of the hurricane. and buck did that without thinking twice. most people would stay put, but he knows there’s no point to life if you don’t do everything in your power to make it a better place.

all hell broke loose when the truck shook, knocking several people off as buck watched christopher disappear in the waves. everyone was separated. no one knew how to get back, and everyone was shaking in fear.

hours went by and the sun went down and bucks panic didn’t go with it. he lost the one thing he was given to care of. christopher was a light in the tunnel and the one who truly got him out of bed. people only had good intentions and the world took that to an advantage.

y/n walked around, soaking wet after the water had started going back out to sea. she wandered around the town, looking for anyone she knew or something familiar. suddenly, nothing had become safe until she saw the sitting boy on the steps of a building, his eyes small and tired. the one she tried so hard to save from floating away, and she prayed he was going to be ok when she walked over. he was slumped to the side, his head leaning on a railing. “y/n?” christopher’s eyes focus, squinting at her.

“oh my god, christopher! you’re ok!” she runs over with whatever energy she has left. she pulls him into her, checking him over with her hands on his face. “are you? i’m so sorry, buddy, it all happened so fast.”

“i’m ok, i’m tired though,” he remarks. “where is buck?”

“i don’t know, ive been trying to find out for you, but the woman said there’s going to be units here soon. we can find him.”

“is he dead?”

y/n pauses, taken aback by his statement. “i don’t think so, chris. he’s a tough guy, really tough.”

“he just got hurt, what if he is again?”

“he was hurt?”

“at work.” y/n sighs, looking around again for anyone before moving to sit next to him. christopher leans on her shoulder, dozing off lightly as y/n happily allows it.

at least fourty-five minutes go by before ambulances and rescue personelle arrive to the scene. there were probably a hundred people clattering about, trying to find out if their family or friends were alive. y/n was given oxygen along with christopher, who shared the tank due to an emergency shortage.

they were transported to the nearest hospital right after sundown. christopher arm was tangled with hers for balance, trying to find his dad and buck. y/n observes buck and the other man, diaz on his name tag. they both have tears in there eyes as buck stutters on about the boy. eddie looks behind him, about to run out of there and search for christopher when he sees him limping over, exhausted. “christopher?”

“dad!” he yells, as eddie sprints over to take him. he checks him over the same way y/n did, making sure every single part of him is safe. y/n looks away as eddie carries him away to get checked out and she locks eyes with buck. he’s talking to his fellow firefighters, them observing his disoriented condition. when he stares into y/n’s pained expression, his knees give out but his eyes stay locked on her. he blinks a few times and somehow, she vanished right before his eyes.

he had a whole speech to give her. she saved christopher, and she saved him. he could have never made it out of this alone and he had to say that, but she was gone before he knew it.

two weeks had passed since an entire portion of los angeles had been demolished in two minutes. the city coming together to help everyone affected was truly beautiful, but something was missing in bucks eyes. he felt like he had to see y/n, but he had no idea how to reach her or where to find her. he wanted to give her anything she wanted for being there.

he roamed around on calls, taking a second glance at anyone who resembled her or her name. maybe he misheard it or something? he didn’t want to give up, but everyone had been telling him to let the tsunami go out of his mind with the tide. one of those ways was to avoid that day and the reminders. was it the best coping mechanism? absolutely not, but buck would try anything and everything to forget a trauma.

until he was asked to watch christopher again, he thought there was no point in bringing up the memory for especially you. you’d been there the whole time, being a bad swimmer and nearly drowning with no past disaster training. buck had that, and she was worse off than him, he thought. when christopher mentions her name, he realizes there is no point in trying to forget. this happened and there is no erasing it, maybe what he needed was y/n.

he took christopher for another day out, far from the shore and the non-existent pier. they’d gone to the indoor arcades and fun little places to hang out or just talk. buck was desperate for an energy boost, so he dragged christopher into the nearest coffee shop. it was an adorable little place with a few businesspeople sitting around on their computers. the smell of coffee and cakes hit bucks nose delightfully. his eyes land on y/n, casually making an latte like it’s muscle memory.

he stares at her in delight and christopher is the one to nudge him close to the counter. “hurry up, buck!”

“i’ll be right with you in one,” y/n’s sentence comes to a halt when she turns around to see buck, the man who saved her, standing behind her. “second. um, hey! how are you guys?”

“we’re good! i- im good, i didn’t know you worked here.”

“have been for a while, it’s easy money for school.”

“oh, nice. what are you in school for?” y/n explains her whole major to buck and why she’s here, practically giving a life story.

“sorry. that was a lot of information you don’t care about,” she laughs, pressing the cover onto the hot drink in her hands.

“i care a lot!” buck says a little too fast. “or, i care about you. how have you been doing?” y/n looks down at the boy with a radiant smile, wanting to show her bravery and strength in front of him, but it’s hard. “hey, chris. why don’t you find somewhere to sit?”

once he walks away to pick out a table, she begins again. “it’s been tough. my sleep schedules all messed up and focusing is like trying to fight a grizzly bear.”

“i’m so sorry, y/n. it’s been so hard trying to deal with it. but give yourself time,” he says sweetly. “you won’t heal if you force yourself.”

she gives him a little smile, appreciating his generosity and now starting to appreciate his looks. her eyes dart around his face, looking into his alluring blue eyes and his lips, and she couldn’t forget that birthmark that is perfect to her. he’s a beautiful man, but an even more beautiful soul. firefighters come with a lot of respect in society, but she had that for him even before she found out. he would never say something too fast, but he noticed her the first time he saw her and grabbed onto her. his rescue response had turned on and was stronger than ever, and the aftermath made him fall in love with her resiliency. she was insanely hot, he had to admit. buck’s gonna buck.

“thank you, buck. for everything. i want to give you the ends of the earth,” she grins. “but maybe we can start with a free coffee?”

“a free coffee sounds amazing,” he replies. he builds up the courage from his crushing self to ask her yet another question. a more bold on, at that. “do you wanna go out sometime? maybe not on top of a fire truck, in a flood?”

y/n’s heart burst right then and there. she had been dying to ask him to same thing, but figured he was too busy with work. besides, he does what he did for her every day so she figured it meant nothing. at the end of the day, it did. “i’d love too!” she shoots out her words rapidly, almost immediately curing bucks anxieties. she shakes her head quickly, trying to rub off her hyper mood. “i’d really like that. here, this is my number,” she writes down the ten digits on a scraped receipt, handing it to him and walking away to make his drink and a snack for christopher.

“perfect,” buck states with a sly wink. “expect a text or two tonight.”

y/n turns back around, heading to the employee room. she can’t find it in her to wipe the rich smile on her face. meanwhile, buck walks over to sit with christopher at the counter by the window. christopher’s grinning at him, high-fiving him and saying, “and buck has done it again!”