#he’s too fine like this I genuinely can’t handle it

[f14fun]

lay all your love on me - op81 (C2)

synopsis: in which oscar piastri and a university student begging for her euro summer vacation collide in a steamy, abba-inspired romance

prose (6.1K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist | series index ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

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02: Love, Sweat, and Secondhand Embarrassment

"Clemmy I swear I wanted to die that entire time. Whoever I offended in an alternate universe I am so so sorry, I truly believe karma is real now," I lamented, voice weak.

Burying my head in my pillow, I could finally appreciate the cool blast of AC (well, it was a little bit of air conditioning but a little is better than nothing) I scratched my right leg that was hoisted up onto the blue duvet cover. If not for the horrible comedic timing of everything, in that moment, I might have said that I was enjoying myself.

On the other line of the phone, thousands of miles away, it was a completely different story.

"What the fuck," Clementine could barely muster out because she was laughing so hard.

"I still don't think any part of this story is funny, Clem," I roll my eyes and trail off.

"But it is! You genuinely should consider a career in stand-up comedy. If you recounted all of this in front of a paying live audience, I'm just saying it could make you a millionaire overnight," Clementine wheezed.

"Oh, shut up, bitch," I retorted, trying to suppress a smile despite my mortification.

"You know it's true though!" Her girlish giggles rang through my room. I could see her face through the screen and it looked like visible tears were streaming down her face from how funny she found this to be.

"I am completely and utterly humiliated. There is no way I can go downstairs and face everyone right now," I whined. It was true, as twenty minutes ago, mid-Facetime with Clementine, I heard the door to the foyer open and heard a lot of new noises.

New people. The neighbors. The rest of the Australians.

Crikey, mate.

There was no way I could face them. And since Oscar was probably their son (he looked way too young to be a father) he had probably already told them about the wretched and humiliating mishap.

"Seriously, Clemmy, you don’t get it," I said, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice but failing miserably. "This is not just some embarrassing story. This is my life, and I have to face these people now."

Clementine’s laughter finally started to subside, and she took a deep breath. "Okay, okay, I get it. But you have to admit, this is a once-in-a-lifetime kind of disaster. You can’t just ignore it. It’s like the universe is telling you to embrace the chaos."

I sighed, feeling a bit more grounded with her calming tone. "Yeah, well, I’m not exactly feeling the universe’s love right now. I feel like I’ve been dropped into some kind of sitcom. And what if they think I’m a total klutz? I can’t even begin to imagine how Oscar must’ve described me."

"It'll be fine. You are a pro at handling horrible situations. I mean, I can really only think that you have had more bad experiences with guys than good ones!" Clem tried to reassure me.

"Wow, thanks," I deadpanned. "Way to make a girl feel special."

Clementine's voice was full of playful sympathy. "Hey, I’m just saying, you’ve survived everything life’s thrown at you so far. Besides, look at it this way: if they’re judging you based on this one incident, they’re missing out on getting to know the amazing person you are."

"Yeah, because nothing says 'amazing' like face-planting into a pile of shampoo and knocking over a bunch of cleaning supplies," I said, sarcasm dripping from my tone.

Clementine laughed. "Exactly! And let’s be honest, if they do judge you for this, they’re definitely not worth your time. Besides, Oscar might even think you’re charming in a clumsy, endearing kind of way. You never know."

"You should really consider a career in therapy. If I lay here and close my eyes for a bit and sleep for three hours surely your advice will work," I retorted.

"Oh be so serious with me now,"

"I am! Now I can add a new skill to my LinkedIn profile," I said, trying to stifle a giggle. "How about 'Expert in Catastrophic Bathroom Mishaps: Master of Turning Shower Encounters into Slapstick Comedy'?"

Clementine burst into laughter. “That’s quite a title! It’s like you’ve got a whole new niche market for yourself.”

“Right? I’m just waiting for the endorsement from ‘The Association of Embarrassing Bathroom Incidents,’” I said, imagining a badge with that exact title. What a big, fat, fucking joke.

“Or maybe you'll become the keynote speaker for the 'International Conference on Unexpected Water-Based Accidents,’” Clementine added, her voice full of amusement.

“I’ll make sure to include a workshop on ‘How to Survive a Bathroom Collision with Dignity and Humor,’” I said with a chuckle. “And don’t forget the seminar on ‘Turning Slip-and-Fall Disasters into Networking Opportunities.’”

“A career to consider!” Clementine laughed. “And you know what? I’ll be your first fan. Just remember to keep me updated on how your new ‘disastrous bathroom mishap’ career is going.”

“I’ll make sure to do that,” I promised with a smile. “Thanks for the laugh. It’s nice to know that even in the middle of a fiasco, I can count on you to turn it into a comedy show.”

"What can I say, I will never turn down listening to a free shit show," Clementine winked at me through the camera.

"Clem! What the hell!" I waved my manicured pointed nail at her.

"Bye! Don't die from embarrassment before you come back!" She quipped, then promptly hung up.

I lay sprawled on my bed, dreading the thought of going downstairs and facing the group of new neighbors. The whole idea made me cringe. I was just about to mentally prepare myself for the awkward introductions when a sudden knock on my door jolted me upright. My heart raced as I called out lazily, “Come in.”

The door creaked open, and I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw Oscar standing there. His eyebrow was raised, and he wore a cheeky grin that did nothing to ease my nerves.

"Well, well, well," he said with an amused smirk. "Looks like you’ve been having quite the chat with 'dearest Clemmy,' haven’t you?"

My face flushed beet red, and I stuttered, struggling to find my words. “W-What are you doing here?”

Oscar leaned casually against the doorframe, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “Oh, you know, just overheard you and Clemmy talking about our little mishap. I believe you mentioned something about me being ‘a charming yet infuriating Aussie who managed to turn your bathroom break into a comedy skit.’”

I blinked, stunned into silence. My mouth opened and closed, but no coherent words came out. The sheer embarrassment was overwhelming. Oscar’s casual demeanor and his cheeky grin only made things worse.

“What can I say, my name was called,” Oscar continued with a mischievous glint in his eye. “If someone keeps calling you hot, I mean, wouldn’t you be too curious to listen?”

His smirk only made my breath hitch and my fingers tremble a little more. I could feel my cheeks burning, and I struggled to come up with a response. The playful glint in his eye and his casual attitude did nothing to alleviate my embarrassment. Instead, they only made me feel more flustered.

I took a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “W-Well, I guess I didn’t think anyone would be actually listening.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow playfully, his smirk widening. “Oh, I’m sure you didn’t. But it was too good to pass up. Especially the part where you called me a ‘human wrecking ball.’”

My face flushed a deeper shade of crimson. “Great. Just great,” I muttered, shifting uncomfortably. “I’m sure I’ve made a fantastic first impression.”

Oscar chuckled, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Look, it’s all good. I’ve seen worse first impressions. Trust me. At least you didn’t accidentally set off the fire alarm or flood the place.”

I managed a weak smile, still feeling the sting of embarrassment. “Yeah, well, I’ll try to keep any future disasters to a minimum.”

Look at me, constantly embarrassing myself in front of hot guys. This was the exact reason why I was still bitchless and socially awkward at the ripe age of twenty-one. I could navigate a spreadsheet like a pro, ace exams, and even master the perfect contour, but put me in a room with a cute guy, and I turned into a walking calamity.

I sighed internally, already dreading the inevitable teasing I’d get from Clemmy once she found out I had, yet again, failed to keep my cool around a guy. Maybe I should’ve just stayed in the bathroom and let the ground swallow me whole.

Oscar raised an eyebrow, studying me with a curious look. “You know, you seem like a completely different person right now. Way quieter, more shy… less daring.”

My face flushed with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. “That’s not true,” I snapped, crossing my arms defensively. “I’m exactly the same as I was before.”

Oscar’s grin widened, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on me. “Sure, if you say so. But the girl who almost took me down like a rugby player in the bathroom seemed a lot more fearless.”

My nose flared as I shot him a glare, feeling the fire of indignation rise within me. Who did he think he was, making assumptions about me? I’ll show him just how brave I can be, I thought, my fists clenching. If he wanted to see daring, then I’d make sure he regretted ever doubting me. The nerve of this guy! He might have been hot, but that didn’t give him the right to push my buttons like this.

Oscar gave me a lopsided grin, clearly pleased with himself. "Anyway, everyone’s heading downstairs to meet each other. Figured I’d let you know, since, you know, it’s probably not the best idea to hide out up here forever."

My stomach twisted with nerves at the thought of facing everyone after that humiliating encounter. The idea of meeting new people while still reeling from my disastrous introduction to Oscar was daunting. But there was no way I was going to let him see how nervous I actually was. I took a deep breath, nodding stiffly. "Fine, let’s get this over with."

As we walked out of the room and toward the stairs, I could feel Oscar’s presence behind me—large, imposing, and annoyingly close. My face heated up, and I silently cursed myself for blushing yet again. Why did this guy have to make everything so difficult?

It was like shooting a sitting duck. A little small talk, a smile, and baby, I was stuck. I was a grown woman, for god’s sake, not some teenager swooning over a crush. But there I was, getting flustered over a guy I barely knew. Get a grip, I told myself, trying to shake off the absurdity of the situation. This wasn’t supposed to happen—I wasn’t supposed to be this easily charmed.

When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I hesitated, gripping the railing a little longer than usual. I could feel Oscar’s gaze on me, and it only made my nerves worse. Just as I was about to take the first step down, his hand brushed against mine. The contact was brief but enough to send a jolt of awareness through me. His hand was rough with calluses, moderately enveloping mine in a way that felt both comforting and disarming.

What was it about this guy that made me feel so uncharacteristically off-balance? As I tried to steady my racing thoughts, I reminded myself that I had to keep it together. After all, I wasn’t about to let some smooth-talking Aussie turn me into a lovesick fool—no matter how much my traitorous heart seemed to enjoy the challenge.

As I reached the bottom of the stairs, my eyes were drawn to two adults who were deep in conversation with my mom. Their warm, friendly demeanor and unmistakable Australian accents told me they were Oscar’s parents. They seemed just as lively and outgoing as he was, which only added to the strangeness of this entire situation.

Then, I spotted Oscar’s siblings—a trio of sisters who looked like carbon copies of him, yet each had her own distinct vibe, like different fonts of the same typeface. They were laughing and joking with each other, their bond evident in the way they effortlessly engaged in light-hearted banter. I felt a pang of envy, wishing I had siblings to share that kind of closeness with.

My daydream was abruptly shattered when Oscar’s large, warm hand clasped onto my shoulder, his fingers pressing gently but firmly against my skin. The unexpected touch sent a jolt through me, making me jump slightly as a flush of heat rushed to my cheeks. His chuckle, deep and amused, rumbled behind me, the sound wrapping around me like a teasing caress. He was standing on the step just above me, close enough that I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. His presence was unmistakably felt—broad, solid, and way too close for comfort, yet somehow not close enough.

His fingers lingered on my shoulder, almost as if he was testing my reaction, and I could feel the warmth radiating from his touch, seeping into my skin. The space between us seemed to shrink with every passing second, and I could barely concentrate on anything but the weight of his hand and the steady beat of my heart hammering in my chest.

Oscar leaned in slightly, his voice low and smooth as honey. “Jumpier than I thought,” he drawled, his tone dripping with playful mischief. “Didn’t take you for the shy type. Especially not after our little bathroom tango.” His grin widened, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a way that was both infuriating and ridiculously charming.

My pulse quickened at the way he was looking at me—those eyes sparkling with amusement, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. I swallowed hard, my mind racing to come up with a retort, but all I could focus on was how his hand, still resting on my shoulder, felt both protective and possessive. The air between us crackled with a tension that was impossible to ignore, and I had to remind myself to breathe.

I could quite literally cut the sexual tension with the dullest fucking butterknife in the world.

I tried to muster a sharp retort, something that would wipe that smug grin off his face, but my brain was too busy short-circuiting to cooperate. All I could manage was a stuttered, “I-I’m not shy! You just—caught me off guard, that’s all.” The words tumbled out, weak and unconvincing, and I mentally cringed at how feeble they sounded.

Oscar’s grin only grew, clearly enjoying my flustered state. He leaned in a little closer, his gaze locked on mine with a playful intensity that made my heart skip a beat. “Off guard, huh?” he murmured, his voice dipping lower. “So, you’re saying if I hadn’t surprised you, you’d be able to keep up?”

I opened my mouth to respond, determined to regain some semblance of dignity, but nothing clever came out. Instead, I just stood there, caught between wanting to pull away from his teasing and feeling inexplicably drawn to his warmth. His hand slid from my shoulder, and the absence of his touch left a surprising chill in its wake.

Realizing that my window for a comeback was closing, I finally managed to sputter, “Y-Yeah, exactly.” I immediately cursed myself for sounding so pathetic. Not exactly the sharp comeback I was hoping for. His smirk deepened, and I could tell he wasn’t buying it for a second.

“Sure, whatever you say,” Oscar replied, his tone still dripping with amusement. He straightened up, giving me a quick wink before stepping down to the next stair. The playful glint in his eyes told me he knew exactly how much he was getting under my skin, and he was loving every second of it.

As he moved past me, I finally found my voice—too little, too late—and muttered under my breath, “Cocky bastard.” But it was quiet enough that I hoped he didn’t hear it. To my dismay, Oscar paused, turning back with a raised eyebrow and an even wider grin.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that,” he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Care to repeat it?”

My cheeks flamed as I quickly shook my head. “Nope, nothing. Let’s just… go meet everyone.”

Oscar’s grin didn’t falter as he took a step closer, still looming above me. “You know,” he began, his voice casual but with that familiar teasing edge, “I’ve already met everyone else. Your mom, too. And I’ve gotta say, you two seem like complete opposites.”

I blinked up at him, caught off guard again. “Opposites?”

He nodded, leaning against the wall with that effortless ease he seemed to have perfected. “Yep. Your mom’s all smiles and warm welcomes. You, on the other hand… well, you’ve got this whole ‘ready to throw punches’ vibe going on.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to gauge whether he was being serious or just messing with me again. “I do not have a ‘ready to throw punches’ vibe.”

Oscar’s lips twitched like he was holding back a laugh. “Oh, you totally do. But don’t worry,” he added with a playful smirk, “it’s kind of endearing. Keeps things interesting.”

I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. “Glad to know I’m so entertaining for you.”

He shrugged, unfazed. “Hey, I’m just saying, opposites attract, right? Besides, your mom already likes me. You could take a few notes.”

His comment sent a fresh wave of warmth to my cheeks, both from irritation and something I couldn’t quite place. “I don’t need notes from you,” I shot back, though my voice lacked its usual bite.

Oscar just chuckled, giving me one last teasing wink before turning to head down the stairs. “Whatever you say, mate. Just try not to tackle anyone else while you’re at it.”

"Well well well, what do we have here?" A girl with short hair and a devious grin matching Oscar's grinned at me as well entered the kitchen. Shimmering her hands like "jazz hands", she rolled her eyes and rested her chin in the palm of her hand.

I turned to face the new arrival, immediately recognizing her as one of Oscar’s sisters—one of the three siblings who seemed to share his penchant for mischief. Her cropped hair and sharp, playful eyes made her look like she’d just stepped out of a rom-com where she was the resident troublemaker, always stirring the pot and having a laugh at everyone else’s expense.

“Hey, party people,” she said, her voice dripping with a teasing lilt. She shot me a grin that was almost a mirror image of Oscar’s, mischievous and knowing, like she was in on some inside joke I hadn’t been let in on yet. I could feel the same heat from before creeping up my neck. Why did it feel like these siblings were reading me like an open book?

“Looks like someone’s already made a grand entrance,” she continued, flicking her eyes between me and Oscar with an amused smirk. “Oscar’s been talking about you nonstop since we got here. Said something about a ‘bathroom fiasco’ that deserves an award?”

I shot a glare at Oscar, who was leaning casually against the counter, looking far too pleased with himself. “Did he now?” I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the mortification clawing at me.

The girl laughed, light and musical, but with an edge that told me she was fully enjoying every bit of this. “Oh yeah, he’s been filling us in. But don’t worry, we’re used to his tall tales. I’m Hattie, by the way,” she added, extending a hand with exaggerated enthusiasm as if we were meeting on the set of a game show rather than in my kitchen.

I hesitated for a beat before shaking her hand, trying to muster a smile that didn’t look too forced. “Nice to meet you, Hattie. I’m—”

“Oh, I know who you are,” she interrupted, her grin widening. “You’re the girl who almost took out my brother. Honestly, I’m impressed. No one’s ever managed to knock him off his game quite like that.”

I glanced at Oscar, who was watching the exchange with an infuriatingly smug look on his face. Maisie’s comment hung in the air, both a compliment and a lighthearted jab. I couldn’t help but feel like I was once again the butt of some inside joke between the siblings.

“Yeah, well, it’s a special talent of mine,” I said, trying to sound casual but feeling like every word was being scrutinized. “Guess I just have that effect.”

Hattie laughed, the sound bright and unapologetically amused. “Oh, I like you already. But hey, if you’re gonna hang out with us, you better be ready for a little friendly chaos. And maybe a few more unexpected collisions.”

Oscar gave a soft snort of laughter, and I could feel his eyes still on me, assessing, teasing, and—annoyingly—almost impressed. I tried to ignore the butterflies that seemed to be staging a full-on rebellion in my stomach. Clearly, this family thrived on playful torment, and I had somehow found myself right in the middle of it.

“Don’t worry,” I said, straightening up and forcing a confident smile. “I think I can handle whatever you guys throw at me.”

Hattie's eyes sparkled with mischief, and she gave me a mock salute. “That’s the spirit. Welcome to the chaos, mate.”

Oscar chuckled again, giving me that damn wink before pushing off from the counter. “Oh, she’s ready for it. Trust me, she’s already made quite the impression.”

The other two girls strolled in, each with their own distinct energy that filled the room. One had a fierce, confident look, dark hair tied up in a messy bun, and a leather jacket that screamed ‘cooler-than-you’ vibes. The youngest, a curly-haired, bright-eyed whirlwind, practically bounced into the kitchen, her infectious smile lighting up the space.

“So,” I said, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the sudden influx of new faces. “I’ve met Oscar, obviously, and… Hattie, right?” I glanced at the girl who had first greeted me, who nodded with a playful smile. “But I’m afraid I haven’t gotten your names yet,” I continued, pointing between the other two sisters.

The girl with the leather jacket gave me a wry grin, leaning casually against the counter. “I’m Edie,” she said, her voice dripping with casual confidence. “The cooler, smarter middle child.”

Mae, the youngest, immediately chimed in, rolling her eyes at her sister. “And I’m Mae, the fun one,” she said with a giggle, her curls bouncing as she hopped up onto a stool. “Edie’s just mad she wasn’t born with my charm.”

Edie snorted, pretending to be offended. “Please, you’re like a tiny tornado of chaos. But yeah, I guess she’s not wrong,” she added, shooting me a smirk. “Mae’s got a way of making everything a little… livelier.”

I couldn’t help but smile at their playful back-and-forth. “Nice to officially meet you all. And thanks for the heads-up on your brother’s antics,” I said, glancing at Oscar, who was watching the exchange with an amused glint in his eye.

“Oh, trust me,” Hattie added, her grin widening as she nudged Oscar with her elbow. “We’ve got years of experience keeping this one in line. You’re welcome to join the effort.”

Oscar threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Wow, ganging up on me already? This is why I never bring girls home,” he joked, though there was a hint of genuine warmth in his voice, like he was more than used to—and secretly enjoyed—their teasing.

Mae leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Just wait till we start telling you all the embarrassing stories. Oscar’s got quite a few, and we’ve got no problem spilling the tea.”

Oscar smirked, shifting his weight just enough to close the distance between us, his presence suddenly feeling a lot closer, a lot warmer. He leaned in with a casual ease, his movements smooth and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world to make me squirm. His voice dropped into a playful, low tone, rich and velvety, each word dripping with deliberate charm. “Oh, don’t worry about them,” he murmured, his gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. “I’d much rather hear your stories. You’re far more interesting than anything they could say about me.”

The way he looked at me was like I was the only person in the room, his eyes lingering on mine with a bold, flirtatious glint that sent a shiver down my spine. His grin was maddeningly confident, a little crooked, and devastatingly irresistible—the kind of smile that made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing. It was teasing, suggestive, and far too charming for its own good, like he was daring me to blush, daring me to react.

I felt the heat creeping up my neck, a slow burn that spread across my cheeks, making my skin prickle with the sudden awareness of how close he was. My mind scrambled for something clever to say, but his flirtatious tone, the way his eyes roved over my face as if he was reading every reaction, left me tongue-tied. It was like he was peeling back layers with just a look, searching for the part of me that he could fluster with a few well-placed words and that infuriating smile.

I tried to steady my breath, but his proximity was overwhelming. I could catch the faint scent of his cologne—fresh, with a hint of something spicy—and the subtle shift of his body as he leaned closer sent my senses into overdrive. Every nerve seemed to hum in response to his nearness, and I could feel my face burning hotter, betraying me with every second that I failed to look away.

Edie made a gagging noise, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Ew, Oscar, seriously? Can you not flirt for like five seconds? It’s embarrassing.”

Mae giggled, giving Oscar a playful shove. “Yeah, gross. No one wants to see that. Save it for when we’re not around, Romeo.”

Hattie snorted, shaking her head as she watched Oscar with a mix of amusement and exasperation. “He’s always like this. Thinks he’s Mr. Smooth. Don’t let him get to you.”

But Oscar only chuckled, clearly unfazed by his sisters’ teasing. He turned back to me, his grin widening as he caught sight of my flushed cheeks. “Aww, look at that,” he said, his voice soft and teasing. “Did I make you blush? How cute.”

I quickly tried to hide my face, mortification bubbling up as I realized there was no escaping the heat radiating from my cheeks. “N-No, you didn’t,” I stammered, though the pink tint on my face said otherwise.

Oscar’s smirk deepened, and he leaned in just a little closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not very good at hiding it, you know. It’s kind of endearing.”

I could practically feel my cheeks getting even more red, if that was even possible. His sisters snickered behind us, enjoying the show as much as they enjoyed tormenting him.

Mae nudged Hattie, whispering loud enough for everyone to hear, “He’s really laying it on thick, huh? Someone needs to put a leash on this one.”

Hattie snickered and turned to me, giving me an exaggeratedly sympathetic look. “Don’t worry, he does this to everyone. It’s part of his ‘charm offensive.’ Just don’t let him get away with it too easily.”

“Yeah, make him work for it,” Edie added with a laugh. “And don’t let that blush fool you. He’s got enough of an ego without you feeding it.”

Oscar just shrugged, clearly unbothered by his sisters’ ribbing. He kept his eyes on me, his smile softening just slightly. “They’re just jealous because they know I’m right. You really are something else.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to fight the smile that was creeping onto my face despite my best efforts. “You’re impossible,” I muttered, crossing my arms in an attempt to compose myself.

Oscar leaned back, finally giving me a bit of space but not without one last wink. “Impossible’s my specialty,” he said, the playful challenge hanging in the air.

Hattie clapped her hands together, breaking the charged silence that had wrapped around us. “Alright, lovebirds, let’s change the scene before this kitchen gets any steamier,” she said with a sly grin, glancing between Oscar and me. “What do you say we all head out to the pool? It’s hot as hell today, and I could use a swim.”

Mae’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, and she bounced on her toes with excitement. “Yes, please! I’ve been dying to jump in all morning. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Edie shrugged, pushing off the counter. “Sounds like a plan. Beats sitting around here watching Oscar make a fool of himself,” she said, shooting her brother a pointed look that he brushed off with a careless smirk.

I hesitated, caught off guard by the sudden change in plans. The thought of the pool—cool water, bright sun, and lounging with these new, vibrant personalities—was tempting, but my mind immediately jumped to what that would mean: changing into a bikini, being under the sun's scrutiny, and, worse, the idea of Oscar’s eyes on me again, but this time with even less to hide behind.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” I said, trying to sound casual, though my heart was starting to race for an entirely different reason now. “Just give me a minute to get changed.”

As I slipped back into my room, I rummaged through my suitcase, finding the bright bikini I had packed on a whim but hadn’t quite planned on wearing in front of a whole audience of strangers. It was a pretty number—a little more revealing than I was used to—but suddenly, the idea of wearing it around Oscar felt daunting. My insecurities bubbled up: the nagging thoughts of whether my stomach was flat enough, if my thighs looked alright, or if the faint stretch marks I tried so hard to ignore would be too noticeable under the bright afternoon sun.

I took a deep breath, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I tugged at the fabric, trying to adjust it in a way that made me feel more comfortable, but the nerves wouldn’t settle. I could already imagine Oscar’s eyes lingering on me, his playful smirk turning into something more appraising, and the thought sent a rush of heat to my cheeks. God, why was I letting this get to me? It was just a pool. Just a bikini. Just Oscar. But the more I tried to rationalize, the more those little fears crept in, whispering doubts that made my stomach churn.

I was so lost in my own thoughts, adjusting and readjusting the strings and trying to silence the negative self-talk, that I nearly jumped out of my skin when a sudden knock rattled my door. My heart leaped into my throat, and I spun around, my breath catching as I called out, “W-Who is it?”

“It’s me,” came Oscar’s familiar voice, muffled but still clear enough to send a jolt of nerves through me. “Just checking to see if you’re alright in there. You’ve been quiet, and, well, didn’t want you chickening out on us.”

His tone was light, but there was something softer in it, something that caught me off guard. It wasn’t the usual teasing or the cocky one-liners I’d grown accustomed to in the short time I’d known him. This felt… genuine. A flicker of concern threaded through his words, almost like he actually cared if I was okay. My cheeks flushed anew, this time from the unexpected warmth of his attention rather than embarrassment.

I sat on the edge of the bed, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my cover-up as I tried to piece together my swirling thoughts. Was this the same Oscar who had been smirking at me in the kitchen, flirting shamelessly in front of his sisters? The same Oscar who seemed to relish every moment he made me blush or stumble over my words? It was strange, almost disarming, to hear him like this—concerned, attentive, with none of his usual bravado.

My heart fluttered at the thought. What if there was more to him than just the cheeky guy who lived for teasing? I couldn’t help but feel a small, unexpected tug in my chest, an urge to believe that this side of him was real and not just some act. But then, just as quickly, my rational side kicked in, reminding me that I’d known Oscar for all of three hours, most of which had been spent flustered and caught up in his whirlwind of charm.

Was I reading too much into this? Was I letting my own insecurities and wishful thinking color my perception of him? It was hard not to, especially when he swung so easily between flirty and sincere, keeping me constantly off-balance. I barely knew this guy, yet here I was, letting my mind wander into dangerous territory, imagining depth and sincerity that might not even be there.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to steady my thoughts. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions—didn’t want to let a few kind words make me think I’d seen some hidden side of him. But it was hard not to feel flustered when his voice had softened like that, when he’d taken the time to check on me instead of just joking about how long I was taking.

The knock on my door, the concern in his tone—it all felt so different from the playful Oscar who’d swaggered into my life just a few hours ago. Maybe it was nothing, just a moment of decency, a brief glimpse of something real behind the jokes and teasing. Or maybe I was just overthinking, desperate to see something more in him because he’d managed to get under my skin in a way I wasn’t quite prepared for.

I sighed, feeling my cheeks heat up once more as the realization hit me—I was blushing again, and not just from embarrassment this time. There was something about Oscar, something that made me want to believe he was more than the carefree charmer he projected. But whether that was true or just wishful thinking, I couldn’t be sure. Not yet.

“I-I’m fine!” I called back, trying to steady my voice, but it came out shaky, betraying the mix of anxiety and embarrassment that had settled in my chest. “Just… getting ready.”

There was a pause on the other side of the door, long enough that I thought he might have walked away. But then, Oscar’s voice cut through again, softer this time, and with a teasing edge. “You sure? I promise no one’s gonna judge you out there. Least of all me.”

The reassurance felt sincere, but I couldn’t help the way my mind raced with all the what-ifs. What if he did look? What if I didn’t look good enough? What if this stupid bikini made me feel more exposed than I could handle? I glanced at myself one last time in the mirror, trying to summon the confidence that I usually wore so easily, but right now felt like it was hiding somewhere I couldn’t reach.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I finally managed, forcing a smile I hoped he couldn’t hear through the door. “Just... give me a sec. I’ll be right out.”

“Take your time,” Oscar said, his voice fading as he finally moved away from the door. “But don’t take too long. You don’t wanna miss the fun.”

As his footsteps retreated, I let out a shaky breath, trying to collect myself. I ran a hand through my hair, giving myself one last pep talk before heading out. It was just a pool day, I reminded myself. Just a stupid pool day with some new people and a guy who was way too good at making me blush. And maybe, just maybe, it would be fun—if I could get out of my own head long enough to let it be.

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taglist! @mingyusbigrighttoe @theblueblub @demandealalune @linnygirl09

[crazylittlejester]

What are your hair headcanons for the chain? I personally think Wild, Wars and Legend have the longest hair but thats just because I think Legend's hat is full of hair he just pretends isnt there so he doesnt havd to brush it(warriors is going to kill him when he realizes)

Oooooh nice!!

I think Wild’s is definitely the longest, no contest. And I don’t think it’s THICK, it’s just dense. Like, the individual strands are rather fine, and his hair is soft and silky but he’s got a LOT of it. It’s definitely waist length, and has a slight natural wave to it, and he’s a natural dirty blonde. He’s experimented with temporary dyes because he got bored though. Also he does a lot with his hair and he takes really good care of it! It’s not HIS fault he wiped out and fell in a bush and got a bunch of sticks in it 😔

Second longest for me is Time, whose hair to me goes about two inches past his collar bone. He’s a warmer toned blond, and the color is completely natural, he doesn’t do much to his hair. I hc he has bad sensory issues and his hair can sometimes really bother his neck, but if he cut it short he’d never make it through growing it out again so when it bothers him he ties it up off his neck. Any hairstyles he does don’t have a WHOLE lot of thought put into them, but Malon and Wars have done pretty things with his hair before and he enjoyed it. He just can’t do that for himself. I also hc his hair is very thick and naturally wavy and Wars is constantly one toe over the line crossing into GENUINE jealously because Time does NOTHING and his hair just looks incredible and it hurts Wars to know that if he out just a Little effort into it it would look even better

Legend’s is about the same length as Time’s but most of it is always tied up and/or shoved into his hat. He’s naturally strawberry blond, and his hair is thick but pretty straight. It would hold a curl if he did curl it though, and he’s (of course) dyed it a few times in his life

We all know Four’s fuckass /pos bob. What an absolute legend I love his haircut. I hc his hair is very thin and fine, but it has that really pretty silky quality to it? It’s the type of stick straight hair that won’t curl even if you spray it to death and say a prayer. Its a cooler toned blond and it’s a lighter color than any of the other naturally blond Links

Hyrule to me has very dark 3c hair and if he pulls on it to straighten it out then he for sure beats Time for second place, but where his hair actually like falls to is right at his shoulders. Like it just rests at his shoulders. He had to learn to take care of it before he let it get that long because it was just kinda hard for a 10 yo kid to care for when he was so on his own, but he’s got the hang of it now and he’s really happy with how it looks. He doesn’t often do too much with it in terms of styling but sometimes he’ll braid it because it is kinda annoying to have to pick sticks out of it when he and Wild take a tumble and both walk back to camp FULL of sticks and then Warriors has to help the both of them

Sky’s hair to me has natural loose curls and is a fairly dark, slightly red toned brown. It’s very thick and just brushes his shoulders. It’s long enough that he can tie it back if he wants to, but he usually doesn’t because its so thick his arms will get sore from spending so much time trying to tie it back in a way that doesn’t look absolutely atrocious because theres just so MUCH of it and its hard to handle

Warriors’s is similar to Sky’s in length, and it’s naturally very thick, dark and curly, but he straightens and bleaches it to death. His roots are a very dark brown, but he does his best to cover that up. He also tries very hard to keep his hair as nice as possible and do what he can to prevent further damage. It’s curlier than Sky’s is naturally, but when it starts to curl up again it because of humidity or because he didn’t straighten it very successfully it looks a bit similar

Wind is a different styling technique away from a bowl cut. His hair is curly as fuck, not QUITE as curly as Hyrule’s is but definitely close, and his hair is naturally brown but has been highlighted and appears very blond. His roots are clearly brown, but not as dark as Warriors’s. His hair is very thick and hard to manage and Wars taught him how to care for it properly so after the journey when he’s more confident in how it looks, he lets it grow out past his shoulders. I hc Wars helped him LOVE his hair

Twilight is out here fighting demons but the demons are him. His hair is thick as hell AND dense as fuck, and it’s a bit wavy. It doesn’t listen to him, ever. He can’t so much as PART it differently because it’s gonna do what it’s gonna do. His hair was naturally a reddish brown, not a super dark color but definitely brown, but since the transformation he has a constantly dark roots no matter HOW much his hair seems to grow out, and his hair still has a red tone to it but he thinks it looks darker. It also takes him forever to wash his scalp because his hair refuses to let the water in anywhere and he gets a bit annoyed. Length wise you CAN see the back of his neck a bit, and it was definitely cut like, around his head in the sense that it’s not just layered with the intention of it hanging down long. the hair coming from the top of his head which is the longest part of his haircut are like 6 inches long MAX

[froggiewrites]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Pairing: Sanji x Reader

SFW

Summary: You spend the night crying into your drinks about how much you want Sanji, and how much it hurts he's in love with someone else. Sanji spends the night crying about much the same. Your friends get sick of it, and decide to help the idiots realize what everyone else already knows. Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Misunderstandings, Sanji and Reader both being idiots Word Count: 4.1k

You are going to get drunk tonight. Plastered, even.

Another day, another victory, another adventure spent staring longingly at Sanji when you were sure he wasn’t looking. You could usually handle the embarrassment of acting like a lovesick puppy for a man you knew didn’t feel the same, but something about today really set you off. Maybe it was the way he so sweetly called Nami’s name when you all reunited, or the way he so carefully prepared Robin her favorite drinks, or some other transgression you can’t quite remember. You don’t know exactly what it was, but you know you’re irritated and hurt and a little heartbroken, and there’s about a half a dozen drinks with your name on them behind the bar.

The tavern is lively and loud, and the rest of the crew is clearly having a good time. Your eyes briefly linger on Sanji at the bar, but you try to force your eyes away. No point in lingering here, yearning for something you can’t have. You instead make your way to the back of the room, wedging yourself between Zoro and Robin, who seem to be drinking in silence together.

You had intended on sharing in the peaceful silence, broken only by some quiet comments and gentle chuckles, but three drinks in you can see them side-eyeing you, brows furrowed.

“What?” Your voice comes out harsher than you meant it to, but you’re a bit too drunk to care.

“Just surprised you’re drinking so much, is all. You normally pace yourself more than this.” Robin’s voice is quiet and controlled, as though she’s just making a passive observation, but you know your friends and you know she is deeply worried about you.

“I had a bad day.”

“Really? You seemed fine earlier.” Zoro sounds genuinely surprised. Robin shoots him a look you can’t read, and he quickly shuts his mouth.

“Does this have anything to do with a certain someone?” Her voice is kind, so kind, but it makes you clench your jaw anyway.

“No.”

Silence.

“Maybe.”

Zoro mutters, “Oh, god damnit,” before taking another stiff pull of his drink.

“What happened, exactly? You both seemed perfectly friendly this morning.”

“I don’t…know. Everything was fine until it wasn’t, and now I’m all twisted into knots and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Well maybe you can start by telling us how you feel, and we can try to help you unravel all of this.”

“We?”

You both ignore Zoro’s confusion and indignation. “Maybe…if you think it will help.” You close your eyes, grounding yourself, and focusing wholly inward. “I just think I’m…tired of wanting things I can’t have. It’s really hard to be on a ship full of people living their dreams, fighting for everything they desire, and I’m here, feeling like I have to constantly hold so tight I feel like my fingers will break or else it’ll all slip through my fingers.”

“And do you feel like you’re holding onto Sanji?”

“Not just him, I guess. To everything. To all of you. But I’m trying to let myself believe that all of this is what I want, and that it’s going to be forever, and then I see him smile at someone else and the illusion just…shatters. I’m not happy. And I know damn well it won’t last forever. I feel like I’m stuck waiting for an inevitable ending that I’ll never be satisfied with. Right now, I’m in limbo, and I can keep pretending that it doesn’t hurt, but every time I think about how hopeless I feel with him it kind of reminds me of how hopeless it all is.”

You put your head in your hands for a moment, taking a deep breath. “And it’s not only about him, right? It’s just kind of a general dissatisfaction with where I am compared to you guys. But I would be lying if I said it wasn’t more about Sanji than it isn’t. He’s both, like, a symbol of it and the source of it. He’s the thing I want most, and he’s the thing I know I’m never going to have.”

“Why do you think you’ll never have him?”

“Because he’s in love with Nami.” You say it like it’s obvious.

Zoro is glaring at his drink, still wondering how he got roped into this conversation and praying you stop, while Robin gives you a gentle look resembling sympathy. There's something behind her eyes though, something you can't read, that makes you feel a bit uneasy.

"It's one thing, to have your love unrequited. For the man you're in love with to be hopelessly smitten with someone else. But god, it's another for him to be right."

"Right?" Robin's voice doesn't betray anything as she keeps her tone to a careful academic neutrality.

"It's just...she is that wonderful. I can't be upset about it because I can't blame either of them. She's beautiful and kind and capable and he's...well. He's everything. It just makes sense. It's somehow harder not to be bitter because I really don't have anything to be bitter about, if that makes sense."

"It would make sense if anything you said was true." Zoro's voice is gruff,  and you look to him in surprise, only to find his expression mirroring your own, as though he can't believe he opened his mouth. "He sucks, and she's great and all but she's no angel. And they aren't in love anyway so I don't understand what the problem even is." You think he's trying to help. Sweet, if ineffective.

"He's in love with her. He has been since the day they met. You know that, you were there."

"That isn't love. He's just a horny idiot."

"He's not an idiot." You hate how defensive your tone gets, how pathetic it makes you feel. You hate even more that Zoro and Robin both look at you with undisguised pity.

"I think what Zoro is trying to say is that you seem to think his feelings for Nami go a lot deeper than they do. They're just friends. He just speaks to all women like that."

"Not me."

You all hate the silence that follows.

"He hits on you too." Zoro's voice is a little weaker than before, knowing his argument isn't exactly rock solid. He's kind to you, complimentary, but he's never rushed into battle alone to save you. He's never ridden in on a blazing white steed for you, not like he has Robin or Nami. And sure, you've never been kidnapped like them, but it's hard not to feel the difference when Mr Prince himself has never played his part with you. He's kind to you, so very kind, but he's kind to everyone. That's just who he is.

“You know it isn’t the same, Zoro. It’s always Nami first. It always has been. He talks to me the same way he would any woman. Less than that, even.” You start tearing up despite yourself, and you hope your friends will blame your fragility on your drink and not your tender heart. “He just…he doesn’t look at me like that. He doesn’t fall at my feet, and it’s not like I want him to but…” You break into a quiet sob, and Robin’s hand comes to your shoulder, rubbing calming circles there.

Zoro leans in a bit, clearly a little uncomfortable but worried and kind nonetheless. “That stupid cook cares about you a lot more than any stranger on the street, and I think you know that. He’s just an idiot.” You look up at him, confused, and Zoro tries not to let out an annoyed sigh at your obliviousness. It isn’t entirely your fault. Who could blame you for thinking what you did? It’s not like Sanji helped with that. He didn’t give you the dramatic love confessions he did Nami or Robin. Nami had asked him once why he sang your praises differently than he did theirs, and he had insisted that he would give you only the grandest speeches, once he had prepared words worthy of you. The rest of the crew quickly figured out what he really meant: he was too nervous to say such a thing when he really meant it.  He would instead tuck his love into the food and drinks he served you, into the jacket he placed over your shoulders when you were cold, into the gentle smiles he gave you when you weren’t looking. Everyone had agreed not to push him before he was ready, to let you both find your way to each other naturally, but it was becoming apparent this was the wrong move.

You keep crying into your glass, and Zoro sighs. You’re both ridiculous. What a pair.

Across the bar, Usopp lets out his fiftieth sigh of the night. He has no idea how he got roped into this. Sanji is somewhere between sorrow and rage, buried in a pile of empty glasses that reek of beer. He's been going on for at least fifteen minutes now, and if Usopp had even slightly less of a conscience he'd leave him here to wallow, considering his problem is entirely self-inflicted. But unfortunately, Usopp is a great friend, so instead he bravely sits on this barstool, a listening ear to make sure Sanji's drowning his troubles doesn't end in Sanji himself drowning after he stumbles his way home alone.

"It's not right." Sanji's voice is shaky with emotion, even with his words slurred.

Usopp sighs, pretending he hasn't heard this exact line of conversation three times tonight. "What's not right, buddy?"

"He doesn't...he doesn't deserve her. He isn't good enough for her. That stupid swordsman...what does she see in him?" He takes another swig of his drink, letting out a deep sigh and dropping his shoulders. "He's just...he's not even nice to her. Not like he should be."

"He's being nice to her right now." Usopp motions over to where you're having your own pity party, one Zoro seems to have become an unwilling guest of. Robin is patting your shoulder in sympathy, while Zoro leans closer to say something to you, care and concern obvious on his face to those who knew him.

"But he should worship her. Everyone should. She's...she's..." Sanji drunkenly trails off.

"An angel?"

"A goddess." Despite the glaze over his eyes, his conviction shines though, granting him a focus he hasn't had all night as he gazes at her. "Someone to be cherished, protected, adored. He doesn't adore her. He should be on his knees right now begging for her attention, and he's just...talking to her. Like he would anybody."

"Probably because they're friends."

"But look at her. She clearly wants more than that. She should get whatever she wants. On a silver platter." Sanji really emphasizes that last part, lips pouting and brow tightening. Usopp looks over again to see you about to cry into your drink, leaning further into Robin. You aren't even looking at Zoro right now, but Sanji is still burning with envy. Usopp would love to set him straight, tell him that anyone with eyes could see who's attention you really wanted, but he knows you'd kill him, and he quite likes being alive. Sanji's so filled with malice and self loathing right now that he probably wouldn't even believe him, anyway. For a man so delusional about love, he somehow can’t see it when it’s right in front of him.

“I think you’re a little lost here, Sanji. She’s not in love with Zoro. She’s just drunk and sad. Reminds me of someone else I know.” He keeps that last part under his breath, and Sanji is drunk enough not to have heard it. Instead he frowns, taking another swig of his drink before trying to stand and falling directly into the counter. Your head pops up across the room, eyes wide and concerned, ready to leap to Sanji’s rescue. It’s amazing how blind that man must be to not see how obsessed with him you are. Usopp waves you off before hooking his hands under Sanji’s armpits and hauling him up. “Time to go, loverboy. You’ve had enough.”

“But she needs me!” Sanji struggles, but he’s so drunk he can’t properly utilize his strength. Lucky, or he’d already be halfway across the room to make an ass of himself. Usopp notices a small trickle of blood on his forehead from where he made contact with the bar.

“She’s fine, I promise. But you need to take a trip to see Chopper.”

“I need to help her! I can’t leave a lady in distress!”

“The lady will be in a lot more distress if she sees you’re hurt, Sanji! So get moving!” Usopp starts dragging him unceremoniously from the tavern, praying Franky will still be awake when he gets back to the ship to help him maneuver Sanji into his cot. Sanji passes out about halfway back to the Sunny, mercifully. Usopp hopes Robin and Zoro are having a better time with their other drunken crewmate.

You wake up with a pounding headache and the worst case of dry-mouth you’ve ever experienced. Your eyes just barely crack open, letting in a blinding ray of light, and you let out a small groan of pain. There’s a large glass of water by your bedside and some pills, as well as a small note from Chopper telling you to meet him in the infirmary once you feel up to walking. You chug the water and take your medicine gladly, touched by the sweet gesture. Your crew takes such good care of you.

It takes a while for the medicine to kick in enough for the light to stop hurting, but eventually you’re able to stand. You can’t remember the latter half of last night, your last memory being Sanji slamming his head into the counter while Robin and Zoro held you back from running to him. Zoro had supplied you with another drink then, and Robin had asked you more probing questions, but you could not for the life of you remember any other specifics. You make your way to Chopper’s infirmary so lost in thought you didn’t notice the mischievous looks in the eyes of your crewmates, the way their gazes subtly followed you as you walked.

“Chopper?” Your voice is still a little hoarse from having cried your heart out last night. You slip through the door, expecting to find your dear doctor ready to fuss over you and scold you for overdoing it last night. Instead you find Sanji face first in a bed, a small bandage wrapped around his head. Before you can ask if he’s alright, or if he knows where Chopper is, you hear it.

Click.

Your eyes widen. Your hand reaches for the doorknob, ready to turn it, and you find it doesn’t budge.

“What the fuck?”

Sanji groans again, slowly and carefully sitting up, before looking over at you. “What are you doing here, darling?” He looks at your hand, up at your expression, then back down to the doorknob. “Why…why is the doorknob backwards?”

Instead of the lock being where it should be, you find the keyhole on the inside of the door. There’s slight scratches around the nails holding it and place, and you realize someone has turned it around. There’s a quiet murmur of voices on the other side of the door, which turns to a yelp when you punch the wood. “What the hell is this?”

“We’re helping!” Nami’s voice rings out confidently from the other side, and you hear a few noises of agreement.

“With what, exactly?” You have a horrible sinking feeling you know exactly what they’re going to say, but you try to push it out of your mind, channeling the relentless optimism of your captain.

“We’re tired of you two being idiots!” Zoro’s voice is annoyed and unfriendly, but after a moment it slightly softens. “Just…talk to each other. Like people. For once in your lives.”

You don’t know why, but something about that makes Sanji’s brow twitch in annoyance. “Let us out, mosshead! I knew you were awful but I can’t believe you’d trap a lady!”

“It wasn’t my goddamn idea! Blame Nami!”

Sanji pauses in his yelling at that, but shockingly enough, he still seems upset instead of instantly kowtowing. He frowns, forehead wrinkling, but doesn’t say anything else.

“We aren’t letting you out until you’ve talked. We’re gonna go so you have privacy, but if you break out we’re putting you right back in, so don’t even think about just kicking down the door!” Nami’s voice is firm and commanding, and you find your shoulders slumping, knowing there’s no real point in fighting her. You’re both hungover, exhausted, and not in any state to continue the conflict. You sigh, making your way to a cot next to Sanji’s. You throw yourself down, the slight bounce you make on landing making you far more nauseous than it had any right to.

“Do you know what they want us to talk about?” Sanji sounds almost nervous, which surprises you. Does he know?

“I…have an idea. Do you?”

“I might.”

You both shift awkwardly in the silence that follows. You fidget with your hands, curling in tighter, anxiety eating at you. This is it. This is the rejection you’ve been waiting for. The final blow to shatter your fragile hopes, to crush your remaining optimism and the wonderful future you’ve allowed yourself to keep dreaming of.

“What do you see in him?” Sanji’s voice is quiet and seeping with vulnerability. His eyes are closed, as though he’s scared to even look at you and get your answer.

“What do I see in who?”

“In that stupid swordsman. Why do you care about him?”

“What?” You blink owlishly.

He finally looks up at you. He blinks back. “What do you mean, what?”

“Why are you talking to me like I’m dating Zoro?”

“Are you…not? Trying to do that?”

“No! God no! I’m–” You barely hold yourself back from saying trying to date you. “I’m not into Zoro like that. Did you think I was?”

“I–um. No?” His dour look turns sheepish, a small bit of red painting his cheeks. Adorable.

“God, Sanji. Zoro is not my type.” You both sit for a moment, before you realize something. “Were you upset because you thought I was into him?”

“He isn’t good enough for you.” He says it so matter-of-fact, like it’s an obvious truth. “No one is, but especially not him. You deserve the best, and nothing less.”

Your heart flutters a little, that little thing with feathers worming its way back into you, but you suddenly see Nami’s face in your mind and you crush it. To dream and watch it die is far worse than never dreaming at all. “That’s sweet, Sanji. But you shouldn’t say things like that. You might give someone the wrong idea.”

His head cocks to the side. “What do you mean, wrong idea? You do deserve the best. No one in the world deserves it more than you.”

“What about Nami?”

“What about Nami?”

“Does she not deserve the best? More than I do? More than anyone? Your sweet Nami-swan?” You fail to keep the bitterness out of your tone in that. Not bitterness towards her, of course, or even towards Sanji, really, just a sour taste in your mouth you can’t quite shake.

His brow furrows, lips downturned. “Well she deserves the best too, of course, but why would she deserve it more? Why wouldn’t you deserve everything you want?”

You let out a frustrated growl. “That’s what I want to know! Why not me?” You slam your hand over your mouth. God, he knows, and now he’s going to reject you, so sweetly and kindly, like he does everything, and it’s going to shatter you into a million pieces. You squeeze your eyes shut like blocking out the sight of him will undo what you’ve just done.

You don’t hear him reject you. You don’t even hear him move. You only feel warm hands on your cheeks, and you open your eyes to see Sanji right in front of you, nose to nose, and you can see reflected in his eyes something you might dare to call hope.

“Do you want it to be you?” You hear a longing in his words, see it in his eyes. You have never known Sanji as a man to want, to desire more than what he’s freely given, but in this moment it truly almost seems like he wants you.

You slowly take your hand off of your mouth. Your voice is meek, mouselike, but you force it out anyway. “Would that be okay? If I did?”

“Oh angel, it would be more than okay.” He slides impossibly closer, thighs on either side of yours, torsos pressed together, surrounding you wholly. “It is you. It has always been you. It will always be you. Is that okay?”

You want to answer him in words, something articulate that would move his heart, but instead you let out a soft squeak of surprise before grabbing his cheeks and pulling his lips to yours. They’re chapped, the dehydration from the hangover still plaguing him. He has morning breath. His movements are uncoordinated, unsteady. His goatee scratches your chin. When he opens his mouth, welcoming you further, he tastes like cigarettes and a hint of shitty beer. 

It’s the best kiss you’ve ever had.

You end up on your back, Sanji’s weight holding you down, comforting and all-consuming. His hands rest on your hips as yours tangle in his hair. You only pull back when the demand for air is too much, and even then you consider ignoring the scream of your lungs. You both pull back, chests heaving, and Sanji buries his face in your neck.

“I never thought I’d actually get to do this.” He buries his nose further into your neck, his arms sliding underneath you to pull you into a tight embrace.

“Neither did I. I kept telling myself to stop dreaming about things I couldn’t have.”

“You’ve had me from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“You’ve had me for just as long.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

You take a strained breath. “I was…I don’t deserve you. And I thought you knew that. And that you were in love with Nami. That didn’t help.”

He pulls back to look you in the eyes, his gaze boring into you. “You thought you didn’t deserve me?” He sounds absolutely baffled at the idea.

“You’re kind, talented, strong, handsome…you’re everything, Sanji. You deserve everything you want. And I didn’t think you wanted me.”

He blinks at you for a moment, before a small chuckle forces its way out of him. “That’s…that’s so ridiculous I genuinely don’t even know where to start.”

He kisses your forehead. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and everything I’m ever going to want.”

He kisses your cheeks. “I have wanted you from the moment we met, and I will want you until the day I die.”

He kisses the tip of your nose. “I have never met anyone more deserving of the world than you. And I’m not going to let anyone say otherwise. Even you. So there.”

You lean up to kiss his forehead in turn. “Well there’s nothing in this world I want more than you. Can I really have you?”

He takes one of your hands and places it over his rapidly beating heart. “You feel that? It’s all yours.” He lifts your other hand and kisses it in a deeply princely gesture that fits him perfectly.

Before you can reciprocate, the door slams open, and you hear Zoro’s disgruntled voice call out. “They’re making out! Can we be done with this now?”

Sanji whips around with even more vitriol than he usually reserves for the swordsman. “Piss off, mosshead. Can’t you see we’re busy?” The quick movement makes him sway slightly, and you’re forced to remember how horribly you’re both doing physically. If he picks a fight with Zoro right now he might end up puking all over his shoes.

“Ignore him, Sanji. We need to get some rest anyway.” You pull his face into your chest, which he gladly collapses fully into. When you run your fingers through his hair, he’s practically purring.

“Anything you say, my love.” His content smile grows wider when he hears your heart quicken at the words. Neither of you say anything else as your friends crowd the room, with their finallys and about times. Nothing in the world matters more than this right now: the feeling of each other’s warmth, the softness of each other’s skin, and the feeling of relief in both of your chests that your hopes were finally allowed to thrive.

[adorsturns]

𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓!𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 𝐇𝐂'𝐒

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : tattoo artist!matt × reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : curse words, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex (wrap b4 u tap kids!!), degrading, marking, fingering.

𝐚/𝐧 : dare i say tattoo artist!matt> fratboy!chris :0

×××

NOT PROOF READ!!!

SFW

ᡴꫂ

tattoo artist!matt who assigned you a nickname based on your first design with him...

matt greets you as you walk in, “rose! y’ready for your next session?”

you roll your eyes smirking, “guess I’m stuck with this nickname now.”

“wouldn’t have it any other way,” he replies,

tattoo artist!matt who gives you deliberate touches...

matt’s touch is steady and careful while tatting you up, but there’s a subtle warmth in the way his fingers graze your skin. he doesn’t hide the fact that he enjoys the closeness, his hands lingering just a bit longer than necessary.

“you’ve got such soft skin. makes me want to take my time with this tattoo.”

you smile knowingly, “just the tattoo?”

he chuckles softly, his eyes not leaving your skin “for now atleast”

tattoo artist!matt who offers constant reassurance...

when you start to tense up, matt leans in close, softly and reassuringly. he only wants for you to be comfortable.

you wince at the inking machine “i know, i know. relax, you’re doing great. just breathe.”

“easier said than done,” you reply, trying to steady your breath.

“don’t worry, I’ve got you,” he says, his voice calm, almost protective.

tattoo artist!matt who loves to tease you...

matt can’t resist throwing in some light, flirty comments while he works. his teasing is so natural, and lightens the mood when youre on the verge of tears from the pain of the tattoo gun.

“you’re handling this like a badass. i knew you’d be tough.”

“tougher than I look?” you question, raising an eyebrow.

“for sure,” he grins, “but youre definitely tougher than you think you are”

tattoo artist!matt who showers you in compliments...

matt doesn’t shy away from complimenting you, but his words are genuine and gentlemanly. he makes it clear that he finds you attractive in a way that feels flattering rather than awkward.

“this design looks amazing on you. but I’m not surprised —you pull it off effortlessly”

you laugh, “y’think?”

“yeah,” he replies with a wink that sends butterflies to your stomach.

tattoo artist!matt who stays comfortably close to you...

matt stands close enough that you can feel his presence without it being overwhelming. you find comfort in how he invades your space, making it feel more intimate.

“i need to get in close for this part. let me know if you get uncomfortable.”

“you’re fine,” you assure him, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest.

“good,” he says, his voice low, “because i wasn't planning on going anywhere.”

tattoo artist!matt who admires his work...

after finishing the tattoo, matt takes a moment to admire his work on your skin. his compliments are genuine, and he makes you feel appreciated.

“its perfect, you're perfect”

you blush, brushing off his comment “yeah it stings like a bitch though”

tattoo artist!matt who hints at his interest in you...

when discussing how to take care of your new ink, matt casually hints that he wouldn’t mind seeing you again. you think hes joking, but theres a part of you that thinks he isnt.

“take good care of it, and let me know if you need any help with the healing.”

“i think i got it, but I’ll keep your offer in mind,” you reply, meeting his eyes.

“i wouldn’t mind checking in on it... and you,” he says with a playful look on his face.

tattoo artist!matt who will always return your eye contact...

matt holds your gaze whenever he talks to you, his eyes full of warmth. it’s like he’s trying to see how long you can hold his eyes before you look away.

“you keep looking at me like that, and I might start thinking you enjoy this a little too much,” you tease

he laughs, shrugging “maybe I do”

“in that case, i’ll make sure it’s worth your while,” you say, biting your bottom lip.

NSFW

ᡴꫂ

tattoo artist!matt who takes you to his loft above his tattoo salon...

matt takes you by the hand, upstairs to what seems like a loft. as soon as he closes the door behind him matt leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was both hungry and passionate. you could feel the heat of his body against yours,

“so do you bring all your clients up here?” you manage to get out between the heated kiss.

“only the cute ones” matt teases, pushing you up against the wall and having your legs wrap around him.

tattoo artist!matt who eats you out like theres no tomorrow...

your pussy throbs against matts toungue as he holds you still by your thighs. he kitten licks your cunt, biting your clit which made you jolt your hips upwards in both pain and pleasure. it hadnt even been a minute till you came all over his toungue. matt didnt care though, in fact, he degraded you for it,

“you are such a little slut, i just started and you're already a mess for me arent you rose?” he said in a faux sympathetic tone.

tattoo artist!matt who loves watching his fingers slide in and out of you...

you lay flat on your back, matt between your thighs with two of his digits in your walls. his mouth hung open as he watched them slip in and out with ease, and how your face contorted each time he curled them upwards, grazing your g-spot. matt couldnt help but smile at how pretty you looked, all dumb on his fingers.

tattoo artist!matt who marks your body...

matts lips connect to your silky skin at the side of your hips, leaving a mark similar to the other ones near the crook of your neck that he made earlier. he stares at the bruises proudly as he caresses them softly,

“what do you say we get these tatted hm?”

tattoo artist!matt who makes sure his work is always on full display while he fucks you...

“fuck, turn around f’me” matt pants as he pulls out of your soaking cunt, you comply, turning around with your hands and knees on his bed.

your fresh bow tattoo on your lower back was now visible to him. he stared in awe at your red skin, running a finger over it that sent chills down your spine.

tattoo artist!matt who comes on your back...

“shit- m’close-” matt drills his cock into you faster. your eyes roll to the back of your head as his pelvis slams into your ass. matt pulls out as thick, hot, spurts of cum squirt onto your back, just above your tattoo.

“so... pretty” he sighs stroking your hair as your legs shake, begging to collapse. “you did so good” matt praises.

ᡴꫂ

[marcsburnerphone]

And they were roomates

(Captain John price x F!reader)

Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.

Warnings: angsty (very minimal), injury(very minimal), john not knowing how to handle certain situation.

part 1 - part 2 - part 3!! - part 4

-----------

That's when it started, the weird energy that set the scene for every interaction between the two of you. He couldn't help but start to see this so-called “tension” gaz had mentioned fulfill its way into your lives. Not only was it your beauty, it was the domesticity that settled in your relationship. You need that lightbulb in your room replaced, you politely knocked on his door, car troubles? Yeah John should know how to do that. But what scared him the most wasn't the attraction he felt towards you, it was your lack thereof. He never seemed to catch you sparing him any extra glances than were necessary. Unlike him he couldn't help but catch his greedy eyes secretly soaking in every inch of you when given the opportunity. 

But he couldn't be further than wrong 

Because at the opposite end of your home your mind seems to be obsessed with the thought of john. What a man he was. He must’ve been getting some back on base and you couldn't even be jealous, aroused though definitely. He's actually all 6 foot something of fine, absolutely climbable. But god does that man often look like he wants not a thing to do with you. Especially most recently you rarely even see him and when you do he barely speaks or spares you a glance.

—-----------------

“Hey, haven't seen you in awhile.” you surprise him extremely early in the kitchen one morning.

“Oh um good morning, I’m fine just been a bit busy. Why are you up so early?” He lies then quickly changes the topic knowing being awake during these hours of the morning  isn’t your forte.

“Scheduled a client for 6AM instead of 6PM and it's too late to cancel.'' He hums in response, willing himself to say something more but his mind comes up blank as it often does in your presence. 

So he leaves without a word and nothing in hand he just leaves. And you stand there absolutely thrown through the loop at the moment that you two just shared. 

—--------------

“We were doing great as roommates. You know I was comfortable and he seemed comfortable but now I swear that man avoids me like the plague.” you say to the longtime client in your chair.

“Maybe he’s just not social.” She chimes in, you concentrate while trying to part her hair before replying.

“I could see that being the case if he hadn’t been so social the previous two weeks you know, we’ve made meals in the kitchen together, watched television in the living room so I don’t understand what changed.” you say applying product to the sectioned hair.

“What if he doesn’t like you?” your hands pause for a second as you ponder the thought.

“Well I guess he doesn’t have to like me to live with me.” you say with very visibly discontent.

“But you on the other hand strive when people like you.” she replies, reading right through you.

“Well yeah I think anybody would.” you shrug.

“Not a military man who’s probably widely hated.” She's always right and you hate it.

“What's not to like about me?” you genuinely couldn't come up with an answer yourself.

“Are you a messy roommate or do you bother him a lot or do you nag him for his mess?” You can’t think of doing any of those but maybe asking for his help from time to time.

“I might be bothering him but nothing I would consider too much , just some help from time to time.” she laughs from her seat and you unenthusiastically spin the chair she's in to face you.

“Was it in the contract that he'd have to help you from ‘time to time’.'' You give her a quizzical look and she just continues.

“Men like to do the bare minimum and that's it. They hate being bothered. Take it from me. I'm married with three sons and they're all the same. Oh they have to do the dishes, sure, but will they dry them, or put them away? No, because that's not what I asked.” you hum understanding her point but still finding it hard to see john really feeling that way.

“So then I shouldn't ask him for anything and maybe he'll come around?” you ask in an unsure tone.

“yup.” she replies blunt, fast and very sure of herself.

—-----------

So you listened, this whole week you've not asked John for a thing which was pretty easy up until now. Your luck never fails to run out at the worst times. A flat tire in the middle of the road on your way home. You pull off to the side contemplating what to do as the sun is beginning to set and there's really only two options.

One, call John and ruin your streak of leaving him be. Two, call the car service company and pay their ridiculous prices to change the tire out. Of course you go with option two cause calling john seems to make you more nervous.

It takes 3 hours for the mechanic to get to where you are, change the tire, and point out other imperfections about your car that you pay no mind to. When you finally make it home you’re bothered, exhausted and broke.

John doesn't miss the unusualness of your late arrival but also doesn't question it, even though he wants to. Your groans of frustration echo through the hallway and he immediately can tell it was a bad day.

You change out of your work clothes and go into the kitchen for a snack as you do your daily phone call to your sister to tell her about the events of your day. John creeks his office door open to hear a little better but nothing noticeable. 

“He charged me six hundred dollars, I mean how is that even legal?” You complain into the phone that’s balanced between your neck and shoulder. 

“It was just my tire that was flat, nothing else.” you follow up while chewing on an apple. You swear you could cry by repeating that monstrosity.

John can't help but feel a bit confused and upset that you hadn't just called him instead of calling whatever dick that charged you that much for something so simple. Changing a tire is an easy 30 minutes that he definitely had on his hands especially for you. You had not hesitated asking for help before so what's changed now?

—-------------

“Okay, unscrew the old bulb and screw in the new bulb, very simple.” you reassure yourself as you stand on top of the tall ladder to replace the porch light. It’s icy outside and cold sweeps under your layers of clothes making your normally shaky hands shakier.

“Okay okay- damn it.” You drop the bulb that burnt out onto the floor watching the glass scatter.

You screw the new one in and step down, closing the latter with frustrated groan, then going to pick up the bigger shards to toss out before sweeping. You should’ve known that bulb glass was insanely thin and sharp but sometimes your brain leaves out the important stuff.

“Ow, fuck fuck fuck.” You cry out at the shard of glass that forms a long clean cut on your palm. You cry as you run into your home holding the cut tightly. Finding the sink you turn the water on and rinse it clean. Your ears don’t comprehend the loud footsteps that make their way towards the kitchen.

“What happened?” A deep voice sighs out behind you.

“Nothing.” Your hiccups escape involuntarily as it continues to bleed dramatically. You squeeze your eyes shut as it begins to burn more and more.

“Let me see.” He tries to grab at your hand genuinely concerned.

“I’m fine, it’s just a cut.” You resist him by keeping your hand under the water.

“Cut from what?” he's a bit frustrated at your refusal of letting his trained mind and hands help.

“I was changing the light bulb outside and one broke.” you admit quietly.

“Why didn’t you ask me to do it?” once again what is with you no longer asking him for his very available help.

“Cause I can handle myself John.” You’re irritated at the obvious evidence that you cannot. Your non wounded hand rips a paper towel from the roll and you hold it to the cut to go bandage it in your room. 

You leave John standing in the kitchen and don’t even look back as you make your way to your room. He stays in that same spot for a second wondering where your random change in attitude is coming from but in the end he comes up blank and goes out to the porch to clean the rest of the glass up.

—----------

You feel terribly guilty when you wake up the next morning to see the porch swept clean and ladder put away from the previous night. You toughen up and put your big girl pants on to go apologize. You knock on his bedroom door and hear ruffling on the other side before he answers.

“hey john i'm really sorry for-” you stop noticing him dressed from head to toe in his military attire and damn.

“For what?” He takes notice of your pause and one up.

“For um the way I acted last night I know you were only trying to help and um why are you dressed like that?” You can’t help but question it.

“I have to go on base for a little bit, maybe a day or two. It shouldn't be too long but who knows, let me grab my check for you.” He walks back into his awfully clean room and grabs something out of a drawer and hands you a white envelope that consists of his monthly rent.

“Oh okay.” You can’t even hide the blush that laces between your features and although he notices it he can’t pinpoint the reasoning.

“Also don’t be sorry we all have our days and I shouldn’t have overstepped.” You nod in response not really knowing what to say. 

“Okay bye then I guess.” You awkwardly wave at him even though you stand mere inches away from his tall frame. 

“Bye doll.” He says before you walk away entirely thrown over whatever conversation that was.

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

comments and reposts and appreicated <3

thankyou for all the love on this story so far.

@beebeechaos @ttsbaby01

@arminarlertssword @quakeroaksguy

@rafaelacallinybbay @bumblebeesfromvenus @glitterypirateduck @midnights-song @spyderdoll @lovelythingsinternal @fruitymoonbeams-blog @kkaaaagt @kit-williams @enfppixie @kythefangirl25 @eviltheleon @here4thespice @dclore22

[imauthicktic]

I beg you, transformers x fem reader

I don’t care what you write or anything, i’m on my optimus and bumblebee obsession phase pookie please

For you pookie bear 😘💖💞

Bayverse!Optimus and Bayverse!Bumblebee x fem!reader

Description: How they react to your random silent treatment

A/N: Optimus' part is so freaking soft and sweet 🥺 and then Bee's is corny and cheesy fluff and this is just a short reaction to get back into the groove of writing again!!

Silence. The silence was killing them- they didn’t even know what they did wrong as they saw their precious human woman talking to Cade like it was no big deal that they hadn’t spoken to their lover in hours. They had thought maybe she just didn’t hear me or was too busy to notice. But that thought was quickly replaced when they noticed she was able to talk to everyone else just fine.

What they didn’t know was that (Y/N) was just testing their patience to see how long they could go before they got mad at her for playing such games.

Enough was enough.

Optimus:

Optimus POV

Optimus watched and waited until (Y/N) was alone to approach her so that she would be forced to talk to him. Optimus walked up to her before kneeling before her. He gently put his hand down for her to climb onto hoping that she would accept his silent invitation. When she climbed onto his hand he thanked the stars that she didn’t seem to be as mad as he thought she originally was. He then stood and walked away from the group enough to have some privacy as he spoke to her. 

Once at the spot that was hidden and far away enough, he sat down on the ground and held her up so he could look at her but her head was stubbornly turned away from him. Optimus sighed softly as he gently placed his finger under her chin and carefully turned her head to look at him. Longing shined in his optics. “Sweetspark… have I done something so wrong that you no longer wish to speak to me?” Optimus asked (Y/N) with his deep voice as his head gently moved to look her in the eyes.

(Y/N)’s POV:

Your heart ached as you looked at him and heard the genuine worry in his tone. The silent treatment was over for you the moment you saw and heard the hurt he tried so hard to hide. “No no no, Optimus- I-... I was just being childish- you did nothing wrong. Believe me, you did nothing-,” you rambled before he cut you off.

“But you have stopped speaking to me. You are not one to do such things without reason,” Optimus interrupted.

You tried to think of a reason that wouldn’t make him angry at you, “Bee told me to do it.” Really? Well, at least it’s believable. You think in your head as you give a sheepish smile and gently reach forward to cup his cheeks. “I’m sorry, Optimus. I didn’t realize how upset you would get,” you say softly as you place gentle kisses on his face making him close his eyes softly in relief. 

“Please don’t play such games again. My spark burns for you and you alone. It can’t accept you being so upset with me,” he says softly in an almost uncharacteristically soft way.

“I promise. Do you forgive me?” you ask.

“Of course.” He says as he gently touches his forehead to yours.

Bumblebee:

(Y/N)’s POV

You were just saying goodbye to Cade as you walked away and towards the rest of the group. Unbeknownst to you, Bee was watching with desperate eyes as he waited for you to come to him, but when he saw you walk the opposite way he became frustrated.

You were walking while looking at your phone when you heard a quiet whine and then loud footsteps that came rushing up behind you before you could even react, you were lifted up by Bee before he quickly transformed into the Camaro where you’re in the driver’s seat and buckled in before he speeds off at high speeds into the desert. You let out a yelp at the sudden and quick change as you watch the speedometer climb. 

“Bee! What are you doing?! You’re going too fast!” You say slightly panicked as you hold onto the door handle and the armrest desperately. 

“Shouldn’t have ignored me, babygirl,” Bee’s radio said as he changed through the stations to communicate his frustration, “now we ride!” he finished before purposefully swerving and doing donuts in the empty desert making you let out a shriek and a loud nervous laugh realizing how annoyed he was by your silent treatment.

“Ok! Ok! I’m sorry, Bee! I- I’m going to be sick!” you say between giggles as he finally stops and transforms into his humanoid form with you cupped in both of his hands as he rubs his mouthpiece against your face affectionately in a playful manner. 

“My honeypie, my sugarpie, my princess, my babygirl, my hot mama!” his radio blasted as he switched through channels making you laugh out loud as you grabbed his head and kissed his mouth piece over and over in loving affection. 

“You’re so annoying- you know that? You’re lucky you’re cute and I love you so much,” you say to him as you look into his eyes with a softened, fond smile.

“I’m lucky I have ya darlin’,” his radio switched to a cowboy accent that spoke so softly making the moment more loving and intimate.

Lmk what y'all think!!

[reverie-starlight]

{the proposal- kuroo}

on today’s episode of “rev accidentally disregards the polls she made”, we have this fic :3 I actually adore this one, it was so fun to write!! hope you enjoy <3 also… thank you sm for 1k followers 😭🫶🏻 that’s huge, I appreciate everyone sm 🥹

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. fluff fluff fluff. alcohol mentions, drunk reader. dialogue heavy at the start.

“You need to propose to me.”

Kuroo, who is enjoying his drink, begins to choke. “I what?”

You roll your eyes with a barely concealed smile.

“Not for real, silly, just a fake one.”

He looks at you like you’ve gone insane. “I’m not following.”

“We’re broke university students, do you really think we can afford to pay for more than two drinks tonight? If you propose, I bet people would make a drunken mistake and offer to buy us a celebration round.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him as he continues to give you that same incredulous look.

“That’s-“ he cuts himself off before he can finish that thought and starts with a new one. “I doubt that would work. I mean, maybe at a restaurant with free dessert, but a bar? Really?”

“I’ve seen it done in stranger places!” You defend yourself. “Besides, you’ve been sipping on your drink for the past 25 minutes. If the ice had poison in it, you’d be dead by now,” you lean back and cross your arms.

Your boyfriend just shakes his head. “Your mind is a very interesting place. Alright, fine. We’ll do it, but if it doesn’t work that’s going to be really embarrassing. Hand me your ring, I’ll do it when more people are around.”

You only have to wait another ten minutes before a group of business men having a meeting a couple of tables over appear to be drunk enough to invest in young love.

Your boyfriend nods once to signal that he’s going to do it and soon enough he’s on one knee, fake tears forming at the corners of his eyes and a dusting of pink on his cheeks that make you want to kiss them.

(Your heart jumps that the thought that he could do this for real one day).

“You’re the love of my life,” he begins, and you make a mental note that he either has a bright future in acting or his drink really is too strong, despite his insistence that he could handle it earlier.

A lady one table over gasps and draws more attention to the performance in front of the customers.

“And I absolutely adore every single thing about you. I had a whole plan for this, but with the way you’re looking tonight, I can’t wait a second longer. We’ve managed to get many years together already, and I’d be honoured to spend the rest of our lives just like this. Will you marry me?”

You’re genuinely touched at his words and the sincerity in his tone almost makes you forget it’s fake.

Not wanting to make your audience wait much longer, you make a big show of nodding your head and jumping into his crouched form with a loud “yes!”

Drunken cheers are only background noise while you press against his chest. His heartbeat eliminates the chance of you focusing on anything but him.

Kuroo tips his head down to whisper, “think we pulled it off?”

You nod against him and start to get up. He looks over to see one of the drunk business men coming over to greet you.

“Congratulations on your engagement! Let us buy the happy couple some drinks!”

The man’s face is flushed and he gestures to his table. “Order whatever you’d like, it’ll be put on our tab.”

You fake surprise. “Oh my goodness, that’s very generous of you, but we could never take advantage of your kindness like that!”

Beside you, your ‘fiancé’ stifles a laugh but the man doesn’t notice. “No, I insist! You should celebrate.”

This time Kuroo takes over. “Ah… well, thank you, sir. Rest assured we won’t go too crazy.”

The man laughs and claps him on the back. “What a polite couple of kids you are! Reminds me of me and my wife,” he winks before heading back to his table, whistling some tune.

You spin around and look up at your boyfriend with a smug grin. “So what are we getting first?”

A couple of hours later, you’re both stumbling into your campus apartment, giggling and trying to shush each other despite not having any other roommates.

You somehow manage to get through your night routines and fall back into your bed soon after. You’re a far more wasted than Kuroo is (he always drinks less than you to be able to take care of you), so he tries to get you to sip on some water.

He watches you with a silly grin as you fiddle with your “engagement” ring. You’ve since slipped it back onto your index finger where it originally was this evening, but you move it back to your ring finger and fiddle with it.

“I think…” your words are slightly slurred and laced with sleep. “I mean, I know… that I don’t want my real engagement ring to be diamond.”

His grin widens so much his cheeks begin to hurt. “No? So what will it be, baby?”

You form your own smile. “I’m sure I’ll love whatever you come up with. You know me best after all.”

He forces you to take another sip of water when your words don’t get any less coherent. While you drink he thinks of the ruby ring tucked away somewhere at Kenma’s house. You’re far too good at sniffing out clues and he’s never been good at keeping secrets from you.

You’re still in university, it’s far too soon to get engaged for real- you’ve both always said you wanted to wait until you’re done with school- but he’s been saving up for that ring since high school. he’s always knows you would be the one for him.

So when the time comes he’ll be ready. With a speech much better than whatever he said tonight.

“Alright, let’s get some sleep. You’re going to have the worst hangover tomorrow, you haven’t had that much to drink in a while.”

You tug at his wrist before he can shut the lamp off. “Wait, don’t you want to celebrate our engagement?”

“Sleep, baby.”

You pout a bit. “Don’t you think we celebrated enough tonight?”

You stare at him and he sighs. “There’s plenty of time for celebrating our fake engagement some more tomorrow,” he shuts the lamp off and wrangles you down with him. “Now it’s time for sleep.”

“‘m not tired,” you mumble, obviously lying. “I could go all night.”

You settle onto your pillow and he strokes your cheek. “I know, sweetheart, you’re a fighter.”

You nod as you begin to doze off.

He notices the ring still on your finger and he smiles softly.

The hangover you’ll be sporting tomorrow will definitely have been worth it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ty for reading!!! i hope you enjoyed <3

tagging: @emmyrosee @luvring @dira333 @tetzoro

[luveline]

Hii I sent the ask for more kbd could you please write them all going on there first family holiday lovely 🤍🫶🏻

love u <3 kbd au —the harrington’s vacation !! mom!reader, 1.5k

This is a good idea, you repeat to each other for weeks. Paying for the flights, making lists, getting Dove her baby passport, packing the suitcases days in advance. 

Most of the time you agree with one another. The day you buy Avery and Beth little swimsuits Steve can’t stop smiling, and the nights leading up to it are like Christmas for Avery when she remembers (and Beth when Avery tells her). 

But the night before you’re sick to your stomach, and then Steve can’t breathe right at the airport, but you get on your plane, and somehow the girls are good. Dove cries when you land because of the pressure change, but she’s soothed by the time you’re past the gate and into the sunshine. 

“Steve,” you say, Dove strapped to your chest, world's heaviest baby bag on your shoulder, “sweetheart, we’re here.” 

He holds Beth’s hand, who in turn holds Avery’s hand, trying to pull the world’s biggest suitcase behind you without running over his own foot. “I told you it would be easy.” 

Your children look beautiful. Avery wears a sun visor cap and a blue dress with white socks and blue converse, and Bethie wears dungarees and a short sleeve top, little black converse to match her sister but unable to handle the sensory nightmare of a hat. They look ready for the sun, and excited to be somewhere new. 

Dove sleeps on your chest. “Easy isn’t the word I’d use,” you mumble, kissing her forehead. “Okay, what’s the next thing? Are we getting the shuttle?” 

Steve checks his watch quickly. “It’s another ten minutes,” he says. “Is that okay?” He points at your harness. “Digging into your side?”

“It’s fine.” You bend with your arm behind Dove’s back, turning your smile on your sweethearts where they mill around their dad’s legs. “How do you guys feel now? So happy? I’m so happy we’re not on the plane, we can stretch our tired feet!” 

“Yeah, mom!” Avery says. 

“Can we have soda?” Bethie asks. 

And okay, you promised them treats if they behaved on the plane, but you’re on vacation. It’s allowed. 

“Yeah, baby, let’s go find you a coca cola before we get on the big bus!” 

You don’t want to pay seventy cents for one can of coke, let alone three dollars for three, but everything will be free when you get to the resort, so what does it matter? Plus, Bethie really, really enjoys it. She beams at the fizzing and begs you to try it like she’s worried you’re missing out. 

(It matters. You and Steve are raising three kids on one salary. All inclusive vacations are expensive. They all needed new clothes including you and Steve, clothes and haircuts and mini shampoos. But it genuinely won’t matter if they have a good time, and make good memories.) 

“Right,” you say near the shuttle, “Avery, you hold mommy’s hand when we’re outside. Beth, you’ll hold daddy’s. No running, and try to be polite. Deal?” 

Avery twines her fingers through yours, little tiny fingers to your fully grown ones. When she looks up at you, she’s practically a hundred percent Steve, his smile, his lovely demeanour, and his attitude too. “Duh, mom. That’s an easy deal.” 

Steve ends up carrying Beth onto the shuttle, and off of it again at the resort. She’s in his arms from the lobby to the elevators and into your suite, but she wants promptly to be put down when Steve shows your two girls their room. 

“Mom, there’s bears!” She gasps. “It’s Goldilocks!” 

A huge storybook mural covers their walls and parts of their ceilings, their single beds outfitted with gossamer curtains on four posters and princess pink sheets. “There’s a castle!” Avery shouts. 

“You okay?” Steve asks again. 

You’re a little tired from Dove's restlessness the night before, but you’re happy you’re here. You nod without thinking twice about it. 

“Okay.” He pulls you toward him. Careful, he unsnaps the buckles of Dove’s harness, loosening the cords that keep her tight to your body before pulling her out. She grizzles at being moved, and he pats her back deftly to settle her before it becomes a big cry. Then he’s cradling her one handed, loosening the straps of the carrier behind your back and taking it off of you with a kindness that softens you for the thousandth time. “There, that’s better. You look like you can breathe again.” 

Steve puts his hand flat on your chest and rubs a line with his thumb. “That’s a nice smile,” he adds. 

Okay, you think. Goner, total goner, you cover his hand with yours. From the girls’ bedroom you can hear the squeal of bed springs being jumped on and the zipper on someone’s mini backpack. “Can we have fruit snacks?” Avery shouts. 

Steve’s hand moves to your neck, your face. He rubs your jawline with the tip of his thumb. “Do they have fruit snacks at the buffet?” 

“They promised they’d have everything at the buffet.” 

You sound exuberant. You are. It’s nice to be touched sweetly, and to be somewhere cool. This is the life you’d dreamed of making with him, and at the same time, you never could’ve summoned this image of him. 

You can’t wait for him to take his shirt off by the pool. You’re gonna take a whole disposable’s worth of photos. 

“You have nice arms,” you say, feigning absentmindedness.

“Thank you.” He’s looking at you funny. It reminds you of when you first started dating, he’d get these weird moments of smiling and not telling you what it is that’s so funny, which would always inspire insecurity, but has since been explained to be awe rather than disdain. He pulls Dove closer to his neck and more toward his side, offering his empty arm to you for a hug. “You have nice everything,” he says, kissing you quickly on the temple. 

“We’re actually on vacation.” 

It always seemed too daunting. The more kids you had, the scarier it seemed. But one day Avery must’ve seen a commercial on TV or heard it from one of the little girls at the park, and she’d strolled up to you to ask you about vacations and the beach and aeroplanes. You’d taken her and Beth to Lake Michigan a bunch of times, but nothing feels quite like this. 

“Let’s hope it really feels like one,” Steve says. 

“Especially for you,” you say. 

Stay at home dad-ing is exhausting. You can’t imagine he wants to be the one in charge here too. You’re determined to pull your weight, even if he isn’t keen to let you, plans for secret lie-ins and well-researched playtime clubs at the resorts recreation centres. You’re not delusional, you know you can’t do this without him. Or perhaps you could, but you’d enjoy yourself a lot less. Either way, you’re wanting to have fun too, so he can take Dove from you and wrap his arm around you like he’s the one in charge for now. It feels nice to be doted on, better when he starts his fretting. 

“Do you want to get changed before we take them down for dinner?” He backs away enough to see your face but not too much as to steal the warmth of his chest where it kisses your arm. “Showers? You need something to drink. Where’s the mini fridge?” 

“Remember what we talked about?” you broach carefully. You have no intentions of patronising him, but it’s unfortunate he’s forgotten already. “Relax, honey. That’s what we said we were gonna do this week. You don’t have to make sure everyone is one hundred percent all the time. If I need something, I’ll tell you.”

“What sort of marriage do you think this is?” he asks, smiling playfully, his warm eyes betraying how happy he is even through his worry and facade.

“One where you kiss me like you miss me all the time,” you say. 

“Oh, is that so?” He ducks down and aligns your lips, the corded muscle of his arm lean where it presses to your softer back. “What do you do?” 

“Kiss back.” 

He laughs into your lips, a smile pressed firmly to a smile. 

“Daddy, can you help me ‘i my shoes?” Bethie asks. 

Steve breathes in deep as you part, hugging you tight to his side. “Where are you gonna go without shoes?” he asks her, genuinely curious. 

“To bed.” 

“You want a nap?” 

Bethie nods tiredly. “Planes are hard.” 

“Yeah, bub, planes are tough. You don’t wanna go have dinner first?” 

She shakes her head tiredly. It’s the first hurdle of your vacation, but it’s not a terribly hard one to navigate. 

“There’s gotta be some sort of snack in the fridge, right?” he asks. 

Family nap time commences just as soon as Avery’s eaten her fill of mini sandwiches. You sleep like a baby under Steve’s arm, at least until the real baby rouses for another bottle. 

[hanasnx]

MINORS DNI 18+

CLAY BERESFORD has to sit down when he gets too exhilarated. When life moves too fast, his heart can’t take it. Breath quickens, eyes haze. He used to power through it, and that’d only make it worse. Now he’s learned the signs, knows to catch it early. The first time you’d kissed him, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to stand. A flock of butterflies inhabited his insides, frenzying in a flurry whenever he’d remember what it felt like to touch your lips on his. At that point, he’d believed his heart condition was common knowledge. His mother, his associates, his friends, all constantly brought it up. But you, you were genuinely caught off guard, catching him tenderly ‘round the arm when he’d shown signs of fatigue. Gentle as you could be, you softened the impact to his seat when his legs gave out.

“It, uh, it’s fine. I’ll be fine,” he had rambled, fishing out his meds from his pocket. His trembling hands struggled against the top, but you were there to loosen it for him. You had sat with him until he was ready. He’d never thought hovering around him could be so romantic, especially since he’s not one to care for smothering.

Now, it’s marginally manageable. That thrill he avoids occasionally hits him at the peak of love-making. You can read him, you can see the signals clearly written on him. In the ways he tips his head back, mouth agape to take in more oxygen, how his eyes glaze over, and his grip loosens. There’s less of his attention to go around. You can hear the strain in his grunts; there’s a stutter in his hips, he’s pushing himself too hard while he pushes himself inside you.

“Clay,” you warn, “slow down. It’s happening again.” Your claws brace against his rotator cuff, directing him to back up which he ignores. His body continues to roll, his tip brushing that spongy spot inside you. Regardless if it feels good, if the sheen of sweat on your skin is a result of ardently chasing your lusts, you can’t let him do this to himself again.

“No, no,” he objects, “I can do it this time. I can do it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, crying out over how he hardens his pace instead of receding it. It weakens your muscle in fighting him off. If you can just sever the connection, he’ll remember, he’ll calm down and take a breather. “Clay!”

But you can’t fend him off.

His forehead drops to your shoulder, alerting you to open your eyes. You don’t bother noticing anything else. “Clay? Clay? Are you alright? Talk to me,” Newfound strength floods you, rolling him over to straddle him, his arm thrown haphazardly above his head. His heavy lidded gaze flutters as you pat at his face. “Baby? Speak to me, can you hear me?”

He hums. A low, gravely drawl as his hands venture to your hips. “Baby,” he drags out each of these word, “Fuck… baby, so good.” The air in his chest rapidly falls, panting. You know this isn’t right, yet he makes decisions for you, digging his fingers into the plush of your flesh as he moves you back and forth. His cock fully seated inside you while it brushes your insides.

“Wait, but you’re—“ you protest, but it’s unconvincing. There’s few things you enjoy more than sitting on every inch of his length, the new angle granting you electric shocks up your spine with each rock.

“Feeling so good, my love. Better than I ever have. Better than I ever will.” his sweet words mean the world to you, his soft smile adorning his handsome features as he peeks slyly at you through the narrow sliver of his lids. “Don’t make me stop. Please? I don’t wanna stop.” How can you refuse him?

You figure it’s less pressure on him to be underneath you; you feel more secure in riding him like this. So you move his hands up, allowing them to handle your torso while you do the work. He sits back, and looks pretty for you, while you use him up.

[themorningsunshine]

I like me better when I am with you

Masterlist

Pairing - Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Summary - Bucky isn't in love with you, nope, not at all, not even a bit, that doesn't mean he has to like that man who is shamelessly drooling over you.

Warnings - Fluff, Bucky’s internal thoughts, jealousy

Word count - 2.8k

a/n - I had so much fun writing this.

Bucky’s internal monologue is in italic.

Stark parties were his least favourite. They always consisted of the same kind of people. Bucky didn't have to remember their faces to know that. They were all the same. Rich people with money much more than they could handle, spend it in the worst and the dumbest way possible. No, really, why the hell would they get their already filthy expensive phone coated with gold? And don't even get him started on when he had heard a man complaining that Tony hadn't put 'perfectly squared ice cubes' worth 300$ each in their drinks. Hell, he had somehow started respecting Tony's choices and that man was currently wearing a 100,000$ suit.

But these parties were never this unbearable. He always used to have company. He still has Steve sitting beside him and don't get him wrong, Steve is his best friend but there's a limit as to how much Bucky can hear that man complain about the new recruits.

"Can't believe Tony was able to do that. That man has got brains. Only if he was not so arrogant. Don't you think, Buck?"

His name slipping from Steve's mouth makes him look at his best friend who has been talking to him for .... well, a long time. He didn't even know when he switched topics.

Bucky never really zones out. He is a great listener but today, something else has caught his attention completely. Something which keeps bugging him and he doesn't even understand why.

Steve sighs as he realises just how much his best friend has been listening to him. "You know, Sam is right, you do have a staring problem."

"No, I don't," Bucky says in a way that makes it look like that's the most absurd and offensive thing he has ever heard.

Steve chuckles and says, "You don't have to sit here and pretend that it doesn't hurt you."

Bucky gives out a sarcastic chuckle. After everything he has been through, there is nothing in a hundred-mile radius of this party that could remotely hurt him. "I am just fine, Steve. Why would I be hurt?" He doesn't say he is good, or great, he says 'just fine' 'cause that's his default setting. To be just fine. He is rarely ever more than that.

No, you are, when you are with her. His inner thoughts whisper to him. He shakes his head to get that thought away as if it had offended him too.

Steve gives him a small smile and nods his head towards a direction that Bucky has been not so subtly staring at for the past half an hour.

And there you are. In all your glory. In the beautiful, simple, golden outfit you are wearing, sipping on your drink in the most gentle way possible. The colour golden suits you, Bucky thinks.

That's what you said when she was wearing blue. A person can look good in 2 colours. Then what about green and - Shut up.

He looks at you again and notices the thing that has been bugging him. You're still talking to him. The man with the too smooth suit and the too silky hair and the too gentle words and the - ... God, he hates that man. And he has reasons for it. Who the hell wears a black tie with a black suit? Doesn't he have any other colour to wear? And who the hell drinks non-alcoholic drinks when at a Stark party? And then Bucky remembers you telling him once that you hated the smell of alcohol. That you couldn't stand within a metre radius of the people who had drunk a lot. But, that man doesn't know that.

You are still smiling at him and talking. But, that's okay. You love to talk. You could spend hours talking about the movie you just saw or the book you just read. That's nothing. And smiling, well you smile at everything. That's your default setting. To find beauty in everything and give it the most beautiful and genuine smile he has ever seen. You can really find the good in everything.

Maybe that's why she is friends with you.

That's not the point. You even smile at strays. And that's who the man is, a stray, a wild, animal.

Cannot be wilder than you. Or did you forget who you are, Buck?

Bucky doesn't like these thoughts. They tend to come back to him in crowded places. When there are too many people staring at him, talking about him. You always used to be there with him. Making fun of all these rich people and their etiquette.

The both of you would mostly escape from the party early, especially when you were done with what you actually came here for, which was always food. He had to agree. Tony did know how to throw a good party.

You would sneak him into the mini theatre and would watch the silliest movies, just to laugh at their absurdity. Or you would just take him to the roof and the both of you sat there, stargazing and talking. You were really a good friend of his.

Friend? Friends don't glare holes into the back of the man they're just talking to.

This man had approached you at the start of the party and hadn't left your side. Clingy. Rich, coming from you.

You didn't owe Bucky anything. You didn't sign a contract that you had to spend all these parties with him. No, it wasn't any of that. That doesn't mean it couldn't hurt.

"Buck, why don't you just tell her?" For a second, Bucky is taken aback. He had completely forgotten that Steve was still sitting there. What had happened to his super soldier skills?

Too busy gaping at her I remember asking you to shut up And I remember telling you not to fall in love with her

Bucky clears his throat at the last comment by his inner conscience. Sometimes, it acted weird.

"Tell who, what, Steve?" Bucky feigns nonchalance as if he has no idea what Steve is talking about.

Steve chuckles. "How many hers do you have in your life, Buck?" Noone. Just her.

Bucky is sure he is going crazy. Maybe he has had too much to drink. You haven't touched alcohol. Oh, I wonder why that is.

"I know many people who use that pronoun, punk. Nat, Wanda, Sharon, Maria, many shield agents, Carol, oh and yeah... y/n. You have to be more specific" Well done

"Fine, I will be more specific. How many 'hers' do you stare at?" "None." He replies, a little too fast and Steve gives him a knowing smirk. And there it goes...

"I am not staring at anyone, Steve." He gives him a pointed look. "Whatever sails your boat, Buck. But I'd recommend talking to her before it's too late."

Before it's too late

That sentence echoes in his ears. He didn't want to lose you. Not to the annoying guy who had still not left your side, not to the shield agent who always insisted on training with you whenever he got the chance, not to anyone. He didn't want to lose you. Never.

How can you lose someone who isn't even yours? This time his inner voice is gentle, pleading as if it is silently begging him to do something.

Before he even knows what he's doing, Bucky is out of his chair and walking towards the bar.

You chuckle at something the man says before you notice Bucky walking towards the both of you and your smile gets wider.

"Hey, doll." He greets you, completely ignoring the man standing a couple of feet away.

: "Hey, Buck. Please tell me Steve didn't talk your ear out about work." You say with a chuckle. Of course, you had noticed Bucky talking to Steve, your eyes tended to look for his even in a room full of hundreds.

Bucky just lets out a chuckle, shrugging, already feeling much at ease now that he was with you.

A clearing of throat brings both of your attention back to the man standing beside you.

"Gosh, I am sorry. Bucky, this is Todd. Todd Williams. You remember the law firm Tony was talking about the other day?"

Bucky just nods his head, least interested in who this man was.

"He is the owner." You introduce him to Bucky with a polite smile on your face and Bucky wants to rip this man's head off. Even though he just knows his name, he is pretty sure he is going to hate him, if he doesn't already.

"Hi, Bucky, I have heard a lot about you." The man brings his hand forward for a handshake and Bucky thinks he will chop off his hand before he shakes it with the man.

"James." He replies with a stern look on his face.

Todd awkwardly takes his hand back and narrows his eyes in confusion.

"My name is James. Only my friends call me Bucky."

You widen your eyes at Bucky. You knew he never liked meeting new people and that he was not really the warmest to strangers, but he was never so.... hostile. If looks could kill, Todd would be six feet under by now.

"It's nice to meet you, James." Todd tries again, now slightly scared of the former winter soldier.

"I wish I could say the same. What are you even doing here?" Bucky asks, annoyed.

"Bucky." You whisper yell his name to remind him how Tony had conducted an emergency meeting to tell everyone that they have to be nicer to the guests. You, then put on a smile before replying for Todd, "He is here for the charity auction. Isn't that nice?"

Bucky squints his eyes at you as if he can't figure out what's so nice about giving your money away for charity.

"That is just an excuse, really," Todd says, in an attempt to break the tension. "I came here in hopes of meeting a beautiful woman." He then looks at you before saying, "Mission accomplished."

You giggle at his words, flustered. You know he is just trying to be nice and not flirty. He had just told you how badly he was missing his wife who was much better at these charity auctions than he was.

What you don't notice is how Bucky's jaws tense and his fists clench. If they were not standing in a room full of so many people, he would have picked the glass from the nearby table and broken it on Todd's head. Tony's warnings are damned.

He instead just says, "Well then, you don't have to stay for the auction. Leave."

Todd nervously chuckles."I could. But now that I am here, maybe I could enjoy the party for a bit."

"You should. Tony's parties have the best appetizers." You tell him, desperately trying to make him feel comfortable when there is an ex-assassin who looks like he could slit his throat if given a chance.

"But you know what's better? The exit gate. You should check it out and while you are at it, maybe also get your ass out of here." Bucky says without an ounce of hesitation in his voice.

"Bucky." You gasp. This wasn't funny anymore. "Can I talk to you? In private?"

You give Todd an apologetic smile before holding Bucky's hand to get the hell out of here, without waiting for his response.

Bucky stops for a moment to look at Todd again, "The exit gate is that way. Feel free to use it while we are gone."

You pull him with you and take him towards the nearest balcony, not leaving his hand till you are out in the cold air and can't hear the party from inside.

You let go of him to cross your arms across your chest. "Buck, what the hell do you think you are doing?"

"Showing an annoying joke of a man his place," Bucky replies, without a single ounce of guilt for what he has done.

"Bucky." It's your turn to be upset. "He is a businessman. A rich one. His contribution could be great for the auction. Do you not remember what Tony said?"

"I don't care what Tony says. What is he gonna do with so much money, anyways? Buying some piece of mind?"

"What the hell is wrong with you? Why in the nine realms were you so rude to Todd?" You snapped.

"Oh, so now you call him Todd, huh?"

"That's literally his name."

"It's a very stupid name, okay? But it suits him. A stupid name for a stupid man. In his stupid suit with his stupid money." Bucky rambles, disgusted as if he hasn't heard a worse name in his long life.

"Buck, you are behaving like a 5-year-old now. What's - ?" You stop yourself as an amused grin spreads on your face as you put the pieces together. "Oh, god!!" You place your palm on your mouth before whispering, "Bucky, you - You are jealous."

"No, no I am not, Not even a bit. Nada.Negative. Why would I be?" Bucky shakes his head as if that were a ridiculous thought. Why was everyone getting the most ridiculous ideas today?"

"I would have believed you if you hadn't said no 6 times. You are jealous." Your smile grows wider as you take a step towards him with a pointed look. "You are jealous because he was talking to me the whole time and he called me beautiful and said that I had a pretty smile." "When did he - " Bucky stops himself as he realises the rage in his voice will give him away. He takes a step back and turns away, till he is standing near the railing.

You stand beside him, about to say something, till you look into his eyes. His eyes have a look you have seen before. He is hurt. He is processing a lot of things that he doesn't want to think about. This wasn't amusing anymore. "Hey. I - I am sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Bucky, I am - "

"I am not jealous, okay?" He now turns and looks directly into your eyes. "I am not. I just don't like it when someone else has your attention. Not because I am jealous, no. But because I am scared." Bucky swallowed thickly. You had seen him vulnerable before when he had nightmares and you were trying to remind him where he was or when memories from his time at hydra hit him with full force. But this was a different kind. It was as if he was laying his soul bare in front of you. Voicing his worst fears.

"I am scared because I don't want anyone else to realise how amazing, smart, funny, kind and just so damn lovable you are. Because then they will steal you from me. I will lose you forever and - and I don't want that. I don't want to lose you to someone else. I don't want to lose you." He says the last sentence as if he is begging whatever god will listen to not let his worst fears turn true, to let him have this. Let him have you.

"Tell me, doll. Why am I so scared to lose you when you are not even mine?"

Tears pricked your eyes as you looked at him.

Before Bucky knew what was happening, you closed the distance between the both of you. As your lips met his, everything else stood at a standstill.

Bucky was too shocked to respond for a minute. This couldn't be happening. Did you feel the same way about him? How -

All these thoughts turn into nothing until you're the only one comprising his thoughts. And Bucky realises this is how it has been for a long time. It was just you. In his heart and his mind. Your warmth spread through him and captured his soul until it was impossible to separate the two of them.

He kisses you with the same love and gentleness as his hands find your waist to pull you impossibly closer towards him.

When the necessity to breathe arose, you pulled away but still stood close.

"I want to be yours, Buck."

If the kiss had stolen his breath away, your words make his heart beat frantically. This couldn't be happening. This had to be a dream.

"You don't mean that, doll. You - "

"I do. I do mean that, Buck. I choose you. And I'd always choose you. In a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd always choose you”

[moonstruckme]

Sincerely Sappy

summary: Sirius is a big fan of pet names. You're not so keen on them, so he needs to convince you.

Sirius Black x fem! reader ♡ 736 words

You let the steam from the two mugs waft warmly over your face, inhaling the sweet, earthy aroma of the tea. Earl grey for Sirius, jasmine for you. You’re careful not to spill as you carry them to the couch, so careful that when you look up and catch Sirius’s gaze, it sends a tiny frision of surprise through you. 

This thing between you is still new, and the effect he has on you hasn’t ebbed; every time he walks into a room, or looks at you a certain way, or gifts you one of his sweet, slow smiles, it feels like your heart stops and starts again.

Sirius deploys one of those smiles now, reaching up to take his mug, but you move past him to set them both on the coffee table.

“Careful,” you say, turning his handle to face him. “Don’t burn yourself.” 

“Thanks, baby.” Sirius lets his hand brush yours appreciatively as he picks it up.

Baby. You laugh, and it comes out nervous and pitchy. “Ew, don’t call me that.” 

He blinks. “Why not? You don’t like it?”

“It—” It’s not that you don’t like it, necessarily. The endearment sends a buzzing from your core all the way to your fingertips that’s not strictly unpleasant, but… “I’m not a baby.” 

Sirius quirks a brow, blowing pensively on his tea. “You’re my baby, though.” 

You moan, letting your knees come up to your chest and hiding your face in your hands. Sirius’s laughter only worsens the warmth spreading across your face like a blight. 

“Okay, okay,” he relents. “You don’t like it. That’s alright, do you prefer angel?”

You lower one of your hands enough to let him view your disbelieving look. 

“No? How about sweetheart? Princess?” Sirius creeps closer, setting down his mug so he can devote his full attention to your torment. “Honey? Dearest?” He drops his voice when his mouth is nearly touching your ear, so it’s low and soft when he says, “Darling?”

“Sirius!” If you don’t stop him, you worry your pants will turn to ash right there on the couch. 

“C’mon,” he takes your wrists, removing them from your face. “Everyone else gets to call you Y/N. I’ve got an ego to feed, so I need something extra-special, just for me. You gotta give me at least one.”

You must look fairly distraught, because Sirius brings your wrists to his chest, tracing patterns on the backs of your hands soothingly. Even when he’s hellbent on teasing you, he’s unbearably sweet. You sigh. “They all just sound so sappy.” 

Sirius squints at you, the bridge of his nose wrinkling, like you’re silly. “Yeah?” he asks. “What do you call this?” He brings your hands, willing captives, to his face, kissing your knuckles. You can only watch, half wariness and half awe at his affection. You’re unsure if it’s theatrics, or if Sirius is being genuine. He certainly seems genuine, but...but. You can’t handle it. It feels like a farce, a trap, to think that someone could treat you so tenderly. “What do you call that?” He points his chin at the two steaming mugs of tea on the coffee table, and you think of how ridiculously pleased he’d been when you started stocking his favorite earl grey for when he came over. 

Preparing for me to become a regular visitor, are we? He’d teased, but there was sincerity in his smile. That’s really thoughtful of you, love.

He smiles at you now, pulling you gently from your reverie. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m feeling rather sappy about you these days. And those feelings require an outlet, so you’re just going to have to get used to it.” 

You roll your eyes, but he’s succeeded in melting you; you’ve got no fight left. “Fine, call me whatever. But love is my favorite.” 

Sirius grins. “I can do that, love.” Your heart lurches almost painfully, but before you can take it back, he adds, “And you can call me whatever you like too, of course.” 

You perk up, biting back a smile at the idea of the mocking he’ll endure from James and Sirius if you call him “babygirl” the next time you’re all together. Sirius must see the mischief in your face, his brows furrowing in concern, but before he can take it back, you beam at him sweetly. 

“Deal.”

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Self-Doubt (+18)

Pairing: Sanji x Fem!Reader

WC: 2600

MINORS DNI

Summary: Sanji isn't himself after being rescued. You help him work through his big feelings

CW: HURT AND COMFORT. trauma? sex, oral sex, MOMMY KINK, boob suckin, unprotected sex (don't) creampies (also don't) and pet names.

(Not proof read my edible kicked in)

— — 

After successfully rescuing your cook from Big Mom’s clutches, there was something off about him. Sanji wasn’t the same flirty, playful man that had left you at Dressrosa. He seemed distracted all of the time, like he was lost inside of his own head as he absentmindedly stirred pots and pans on the stove. His constant fawning over you, Nami, and Robin had slowed dramatically and hell, he barely even argued with Zoro anymore… that was the biggest red flag.  You cared for your crew mate and friend deeply, so you were determined to help him out of this slump. 

Your attempts at getting him to open up to you had repeatedly failed. Each time you asked him if something was bothering him or even just asking how he was doing, he would fake a smile and tell you not to worry about him. You couldn’t give up, you had to try harder. 

One afternoon, you catch Sanji in the kitchen preparing for dinner. 

“Smells good in here!” You say in a sing song voice you enter the galley and see your favorite cook at the counter chopping carrots. 

“Y/n, darling, thank you. Anything you need?” Sanji briefly looks up at you to flash you a tired smile. 

“Hmmm maybe…” You stroll into the large pantry and root around. 

“Y/n if there’s something you desire, I’d be happy to fetch it for you, no need to dig around in there…” Sanji puts his knife down on the cutting board with a huff. 

Before Sanji could step towards the pantry, you emerge with two wine glasses and a bottle of white wine in your hands. 

“What do you say you shuck a couple of those oysters in the ice box and we can enjoy them with this,” You wiggle the wine bottle in Sanji’s direction. “Like we used to back the day? I know they’re your favorite. Remember when we’d have to put a chair under the door handle so Luffy wouldn’t come in and slurp them all down?”

Sanji chuckles lowly and shakes his head. 

“Yes how could I forget? We would get so drunk, too…” He cracks a genuine smily briefly before it fades from his lips. “I’m not hungry. But if you’d like some, I can prepare some for you.”

You sigh.

“I don’t want them by myself. Will you at least have a glass of wine with me?” You smile and step closer to him. 

“I can do that.” Sanji reaches into his pocket and retrieved his wine key. He takes the bottle and glasses from you. He opens the bottle and pours two large glasses full. 

“Ice in yours?” Sanji asks. 

“You always remember how I like things.” You nod and smile. 

Sanji plops a few ice cubes into your glass. You raise yours. 

“Cheers to having you back.” You say as you tip your glass in his direction. 

Sanji hesitates, but eventually grabs his glass and clinked it with yours wordlessly. You both sip your drinks. 

“If you don’t mind, darling, I have to finish preparing for dinner. You can stay if you’d like, but I can’t say I’m much of a conversationalist as of late…” Sanji throws a dish towel over his shoulder and continues his work on the vegetables. 

“It’s fine. You don’t have to talk. I just like being around you.” 

Sanji nods and you watch him cook in silence for the next hour. As you observed him, you notice the heavy grey bags under his eyes, it was now clear that he wasn’t sleeping. Every now and then he would reach up and rub at his neck, obviously sore and aching. You hated seeing him in such a state, but he made it clear he wasn’t ready to talk and you weren’t going to force it. 

Once Sanji finishes the meal, you head out and gather the rest of the crew for dinner. 

The meal was wonderful as always and your rowdy crew filled the room with raucous laughter and conversation. Once everyone had their fill of food and drink, they thanked Sanji and filed out of the dining room to entertain their own evening activities. Most of your crew mates had gone to bed, but since the night was clear and warm you decided to lay out on the deck and look for shooting stars with Chopper. 

“You see those 5 big stars over there?” You say as you point into the distance. 

“Yeah, I think so!” Chopper wiggles his ears. 

“That constellation is called Pablo the Reindeer Warrior! He was a famous big strong reindeer who saved a city from destruction and became a hero!” 

“Wow! Really?!” Chopper looks over at you. 

“No, haha. I had you there!” You throw your head back and laugh. 

“Aww, y/n no fair.” The little reindeer pouts. 

“Sorry little buddy, it was too easy.” 

After a few minutes go by you see a shooting star. 

“Chopper did you see that!?” You turn to the side and see the tiny doctor fast asleep beside you. You smile and scoop him up in your arms and rise to your feet. You carry Chopper to his bed in the medical bay and tuck him in tightly. You yawn. It was late, but you wanted to see if Sanji was still doing dishes before you headed off to sleep. 

Sure enough, as you enter the galley, Sanji’s slender figure was slumped over the sink finishing up the dishes. 

“Hey San-“ You stop once you hear a sniffle. 

You go silent and don’t move any further. Was he… crying?

“*sniff* y/n, it’s late.” Sanji chokes back something like a wet sob. “You should head to bed. *sniff*” Sanji says without turning around, right hand covering his face over the sink.

“Sanji… you’re… not okay…” You say softly as you approach him slowly. “And that’s okay… you just have to let someone help you… we’re a family and you don’t have to do anything alone…” You reach his trembling form and reach up to gingerly touch his shoulder. 

Sanji jerks against your touch. You recoil your hand. 

“No! Don’t you get it! I fucked up! I am fucked up!” Sanji removes his hand from his face, revealing red, wet eyes. “I put everyone in danger and it was all my fault…” Heavy tears spill over and cascade down his porcelain cheeks. 

You immediately pull him into you and put your hand on the back of his head to push him into the crook of your neck. You wrap your other around around his shoulder to keep him close to your body. He cries harder. 

“I can’t sleep, y/n… I keep having nightmares… It’s just too much…” Sanji breathes out into your skin, now wet from his tears. You stroke his hair. 

“Sanji I understand why you might feel like that, but I promise you no one resents you for anything. You were doing what you thought would save us. We’re all just so happy to have you back.” You coo soothingly into his ear. 

“You shouldn’t have come for me, I’m not worth it. I’m a disgusting monster…” Sanji sobs 

You rub circles into his back. 

“Hey, out of all the disgusting monsters we’ve fought over these years, I’m pretty sure you’re very low on the list.” You joke. 

Sanji cries harder. 

“Oh come on, you know I’m kidding. You’re not disgusting and you’re not a monster. Imagine Luffy hearing you say this? You know he wouldn’t stand for it.” You state firmly. 

Sanji’s sobbing slows. 

“Hey… why don’t you stay with me tonight?” You ask. 

Sanji pulls back and looks in your eyes.

“What?” He questions. 

“If you stay with me, you won’t be alone if you have a nightmare. You’ll feel better if you get a decent night’s sleep.” You wipe tears and snot from his princely face. “Please?” You persist. 

“I… Ok…” Sanji resigns. 

“Good, when you finish cleaning up, come to my room.” You push his hair back and retreat to your bedroom deep inside the ship. 

You wash up and slip on a large clean shirt and boy short panties before you slide into bed. You sigh and stretch against your comfortable sheets. 

*knock knock*

“Come in!” You holler from your bed. Sanji meekly peeks his head into your room and you smile and wave him in. He had cleaned up his face and combed his hair, his normal three piece suit swapped for grey sweats and a white tee. 

“Hi!” You sit up in bed and pat the spot next to you in bed. 

“A-are you sure you don’t want me to sleep on the loveseat?” Sanji asked as he pointed at the couch in the corner of your bedroom. 

“Sleeping on a sofa isn’t going to make your quality of sleep any better. Shut up and get in here, cook.” You roll your eyes. Sanji delicately slides underneath your fluffy purple comforter and takes his place beside you. 

“Good. Now get some sleep.” You reach up and turn out your bedside lamp. You settle yourself in, facing inwards curled on your side, how you always slept. You listen to Sanji’s nervous, heavy breathing for a few moments before he spoke. 

“Y/n?” 

“Yes?” You open your eyes and look up at him. 

“Could I… hold you?” He asks with a shaky breath. 

“Of course. Come here.” You pull Sanji’s head down to lay between your breasts and he wraps him arm around your waist. You throw your leg over his hip and begin stroking his hair. Sanji couldn’t help but nuzzle his nose deeper into the crease of your breasts through your shirt. You smirk. After a few minutes of innocent cuddling, you feel Sanji’s hand on your side slip up your shirt and caress your naked back. The next thing you notice is the very slight grinding up his hips up into you. He was so cute like this, you couldn’t help but want to let him play… Maybe this is what he needed?

“Here baby…” you quickly pull back and remove your shirt, breasts falling into Sanji’s face in the process. You lay back down and pull his head back to your tits. “Go ahead and suck, sweetheart…” You guide his lips to your erect nipple. 

“Y/n yes…mmmpphh…” Sanji moans around your pert bud, continued to rut his hips into you. You arch your back and sigh at the sensation of his plush lips on your breast. 

Sanji sucks hungrily at your tit as he brings his hand to knead and squeeze at your other one. 

“Mmmmph.. thank you.. so perfect…” Sanji mutters as he pulls off your breast to give the other one the same attention, a sloppy string of saliva now connecting them. Minutes went by with Sanji just desperately suckling your chest, little whimpers leaving his lips every now and then…

“Feels so good, sweet boy, so good for me…” You coo as you tug at his hair. 

“Hmmppph… fuck… thank you mommy….” Sanji groans into your chest. 

You eyes snap open. 

*Oooooh, so that’s what he’s into… you know what? That makes sense…”

It might not be something you were used to, but you were happy with providing Sanji with whatever he needed in this very moment. You pull him gently by his hair out of your breasts and look into his glassy eyes. 

“Wanna be a good boy and fuck me, Sanji?” 

“Gods, more than anything.” Sanji bolts upright and sheds himself of his shirt and sweats, long cock standing at attention. You snap out of your daze staring at Sanji’s large member and shimmy off your panties. You spread your legs wide to entice him to enter you already. Sanji hovers over you. 

“Fuck me, Sanji.” You buck your hips up at him. 

“I can’t… not yet…” 

“What?” You sit up on your elbows. 

“Gotta taste you first… smells so nice…” Sanji drops to his stomach between your legs and spreads your glistening lips with his fingers. “Fucking pretty…” Sanji sighs before diving into your cunt and attaching his lips to your clit. You yelp out in surprise and pleasure. Sanji makes out with your clit as his saliva and your slick dris down the rest of your sex, soaking your skin and the bed under you. You writhe and moan under his tongue as your feel him start to play with both of your holes with his wet thumb and forefinger. His finger teases your soaked pussy as his thumb applied pressure in circles around your tight ass, all as he slurped on your clit. You found yourself hurtling towards an explosive ending very quickly. 

“Shit, Sanji!” You cry out and grip his hair as you cum violently all over Sanji’s face. The moan he let out as you released on him might have been as loud as your own, it was filthy and pornographic. 

Sanji takes one last lick of your sex before coming back up to hover over you. 

“You’re really fucking good at that.” You laugh and wrap your arms around his neck. 

Sanji chuckles and leans down to give you a passionate kiss. The flavor of your orgasm on his lips was making your head spin. 

“Wanna fuck you now…” Sanji whispers as he pulls back from you. 

“You can fuck me baby, I wanna feel you…” 

Sanji straddles one of your legs and pulls the other to wrap around his hip, turning you slightly on your side. He wastes no time in pushing his swollen cock into your seeping hole. Sanji stutters and gasps as he bottoms out inside of you, overwhelmed at the feeling of your warm walls sucking him in so tightly. 

“Y/n… fuck…” Sanji pants and pulls out of you just slightly, admiring your slick coating his shaft already. 

“So good baby, you stretch me out so good…” You purr as you run your hand up and down his chest. 

“Shit…” Sanji pushes back in, all the way to his pelvis and grinds into you, making sure to press into your clit. He continues grinding his hips in circles against yours. 

“Yes! Just like that, so fucking good baby!” You cry out and throw your head back, this particular position had Sanji able to stimulate all of your senses. 

“A-ah- Fuck! You’re squeezing me so tight! A-are you gonna cum?” Sanji stutters as he tries to keep his pace while fucking into you. 

“Yes honey, I’m gonna cum. Keep going, make mommy cum, baby- Ah!” You cry out and your dam bursts all over Sanji’s legs and pelvis. 

“Mommy! Fuck, ah! Can’t hold it, gotta.. gotta fill you! Please!” Sanji shouts as his hips move more erratically. 

In your post orgasm daze you whisper out a short “cum in me, please” and Sanji does just so with a loud groan, surely heard by everyone on the ship. You whimper as you feel him shooting rope after rope of thick white into your womb. Once his body stopped shaking on top of you, Sanji pushed himself off and flopped down next to you in bed. 

“Y/n…” Sanji turns to you and grabs your cheek. “Thank you…” 

You shake your head. 

“Don’t thank me. I’d be doing this with your no matter what had happened. You mean so much to me…” You look up into Sanji’s blue eyes. 

“I… I don’t deserve you…” Sanji looks away. 

“Hey.” You tilt his chin up to you. “No more of that. I thought I made that very clear.” You giggle and place a quick kiss on his lips. Sanji smiles. 

“I’ll never leave you again. I promise.”

xx

[jyuansgf]

nsfw content ahead. minors dni. 

— friends with benefits / blade x f!reader. cw: 18+ content, angst, catching feelings.. lol, modern au, college setting (?).

synopsis: friends with benefits with blade, but is it really benefiting the both of you? are you both genuinely benefiting from the setup you both have, or could it be causing unforeseen complications? can you keep your feelings at bay, especially when the physical intimacy is so compelling that everything else seems to fade away?

NOTES : don’t fall in love with your fwb !! HAHA made this since a lot of people are thirsting over him in my inbox (you guys are heard) also, sorry for the slow/late updates! might make a part two (continuation) if some people demand for it ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ meanwhile, i just wanna have a situationship with yingxing.. 

despite being in the same circle of friends you met through college, knowing him was no different than meeting anyone else (or at least you think) from hopping on clubs to another one with your friends was how you met each other. however, your relationship took an unexpected turn. if it wasn’t for your friend who kindly asked blade to take you home after you had too much to drink, things might have been different.

you can’t even comprehend how things escalated to this point. your friend would even frequently ask why you’re constantly not present during their night clubs. however, it would always end up with you responding to their messages while you’re completely preoccupied by him, as he fucks you dumb on your apartment. yet, you would always find yourself waking up to a cold bed, right.. you two only agreed to this. the thing is you both benefitted physically but not mentally. you both know this isn’t perfect but it is what you both agreed on, and he’s been fine with it, at least on the surface. 

truth to be told, you can’t even remember the last time you actually had a genuine conversation with each other, without it devolving into a heated, passionate fuck in whichever room he’s dragged you into, or even in your own flat – not like you want him to know, no.. you don’t want to break this thing you have with him yet, at least not now. 

in fact, you would even ask yourself if you can still handle this situation with him – whether it's during friends’ gatherings or just in general, it’s as if you barely know each other, like you're just a fleeting presence in his life. but behind closed doors, it’s as though the two of you can’t get enough of each other – fucking until midnight, until you plead for him to touch you in a way that no one else has. until you forget the unresolved feelings you have for him.

— “you sure have a lot going on in your mind even when i’m this deep inside you,” his laughter was low and throaty, filling the quiet room as he pressed himself deeper into you. the sensation of his breath cascading across the sensitive skin of your neck sent shivers down your spine. his rough stubble grazed against your tender flesh, creating a light, teasing contrast – and a fresh hickey, a silent testament of the night's fervor, adorned your neck as a token.

right, you were probably too absorbed in your thoughts. it wasn’t like you were always this way, but you often found yourself deep in thought whenever you two fuck lately.

“what, since when did you become a psychic?” you queried, a gentle chuckle seeping from your lips. your fingers gracefully danced through his hair, twirling and playing with the strands as you gazed at him. a playful glint sparkled in your eyes as a thought crossed your mind. “perhaps, the reason i can still manage coherent thoughts is because you haven’t been fucking me enough, blade." you teased, the hint of a challenge lingering in your words – but you intended to strike at a nerve, and you guaranteed it with the way he suddenly tightened his grip on your hips. the most satisfying part to you. as if you can count on your fingers with how many times he fucked you dumb enough to even think straight.

“is that so? well, i can’t have you thinking i’m not trying hard enough, can i?” his deep laughter echoed throughout the room in response to your playful banter, a sound you’d grown accustomed to — a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, he liked it when you’re being like this.. when you’re being cheeky, maybe too confident enough to think that he can’t fuck you until you’re a mess. “well then, i suppose we just have to rectify that,” his voice held a teasing edge, as he shifted his position, his cock slowly mushing the walls of your pussy, making you whine. his hands trailing up your sides — causing a shiver to ripple across your skin. his eyes, filled with lust, locked onto yours.

“do you want me to force it out of your system or should i just take you out of your senses?” his voice dripping to a low growl that sent a thrill through your core, your eyes slowly watching the way he moves — his smirk widened at your sharp intake of breath with the way his hands began to roam over your body, generating sparks wherever they touched.

it was moments like these, when the world outside between you seemed to fade away, that you found yourself inexplicably drawn to him, despite the complicated thing you both have. 

“…i’m open to either option,” you muttered softly, pausing momentarily to consider the weight of your words — a playful grin displayed across your face, reflecting your proposition, as you continued, “but i think, i’d prefer to have both if possible.” a teasing giggle bubbled up from your chest, a sweet melody that filled the tension between you two. almost unconsciously, your hands found their way to his neck, fingers gently tracing his neck, adding an intimate touch to your playful jest — filled with anticipation. 

blade could only reply with a chuckle, but you knew you were in for it. soon enough — he’ll have you fucked dumb on the mattress, until you’re a crying mess on his cock, until you two forget about the topic on hand. you don’t even plan on telling him, not this time. but at least you get what you want.

[blippymilk]

Brozone (+ Poppy & Viva) x Touch Starved Fem! Reader

Ok the request is that the reader is a touch starved, easily flustered, insecure yet passionate female. Her hair can change based on how she’s feeling. She likes to rant and info dump a lot. She likes drawing herself and her loved ones, and gives small gifts as a form of affection or to make them feel better. There will be a friend and s/o version.

(I’m also really sorry if this is not to the liking of the request, I kind of struggled while making this 😭)

John Dory:

Friend:

- As your friend he’s a little concerned for you

- Like he knows your fine but sometime he worries 😭

- But nothing JD can’t handle

- Genuinely enjoys your little gifts but he never makes it obvious at first

“Hey JD look I made you a little gift.” :)

“Oh that’s sweet. Can you put it on my desk? I’ll look at it later.”

- One day him and his brothers were rough housing around while you Poppy, and Viva stood by cheering them on. Bruce gets a little too rough with him and knocks something out of his jacket, it was your gift

- This man stops everything

- Like everything

- Like everyone’s frozen in place no matter what stance they’re in

- And picks it up and places it gently back in the pockets inside his jacket then lectures the boys about how he could’ve gotten his belongings crushed 😭

S/O:

- Still worries about you even after being together

- Sometimes the way your emotions change with your hair startles him

- And that’s mostly because your emotions can change rapidly

- But he also finds it really funny

- So prepare for his scare attacks

- Your hair gets so spiky, and you get so mad

“Oh come on I was only playing around babe. Tell you what, I’ll find a better way to mess with your hair.”

- And he did, which was by flustering you with comments that boost your confidence

- Your face turns red and your hair poofs up then falls around your head

- You’re always muttering a lot just like Viva and Poppy and JD finds it hilarious that him, Branch, and Clay are in the same boat (not saying Clay and Viva are not dating jus to clarify 😭)

Floyd:

Friend:

- Loves having a friend that’s the complete opposite of him

- He’ll listen to you rant all day

- With feedback on every question and statement

- Also finds your hair amusing but won’t abuse it’s power on purpose like John 😭

- Shocked by your passion to draw

“Is that me and you?”

“You know it.”

“I love it.” 🥹

S/O:

- Absolutely head over heels for you

- Still would be into listening to you rant but he’s helping you calm down a bit more

- Now your drawings had a more romantic reference behind them and he loved them even more

- No matter where he goes he always has one of your pictures on him

- He carries it around and values it like cash

- And absolutely none of his (little) brothers are getting their hands on it (yes he’s aware that they’re all adults now)

Spruce Bruce

Friend:

- He’s an expert on hair so he’s not too shocked or anything

- I mean look at that fluff on his head

- Seeing as Bruce could handle so many kids in the movie I believe he could deal with a ranting partner just fine

- He knows how to avoid frustration with you

S/O:

- Finds everything you do cute (c’mon it’s Bruce)

- He loves your arts & crafts

- Probably more than you

- Just like John he likes to you see you flustered with that big frizz on your head

- Your hair is constantly poofy because this man never stopsssss

“Hey (____) did it hurt when you fell?”

“Huh?”

“When you fell. From heaven?”

“Bruce you’re litteraly gonna kill me and my hair…”

- Definitely helps you get the knots out afterward 😭

Clay:

Friends:

- He hangs around Viva so the rambling is nothing new to him

- Always tries to hide you from Viva because he knows you two would be a unstoppable force ( plus poppyyyyy?!?)

- Hates when you feel insecure in any kind of way possible

- So just like you leave him little sketches, he leaves little notes of affirmations for you to read

- And makes you read them

- Outloud

“I am so pretty, beautiful, smart, talente- Clay do I have to keep-”

“Keep going.”

“Ok but-”

- Extremely intense eye contact

sighhhhhhhh “I am talented, I am kind, I am loyal…”

S/O:

- One of the most respectful boyfriends in the world

- Eventually gives in and let’s you and Viva mingle (possibly a bad descion!!??)

- Astonished by what your hair is capable of (can’t show his excitement tho cause he’s not a fun boy anymore right?)

- He is a words of affection (and physical touch sjejkemsjks) kinda guy so as your boyfriend he’s all you could ask for

- So now your attached to this man like glue and it’s kind of his fault

- Has to pry you off sometime but he will never stop loving you the same

“I love youuuuuu.”

“I love youuuuuu too.”

Branch:

Friend:

- Just like Clay he’s friends with Poppy so he’s used to the talking behavior (no Boppy in thissss 😔)

- You guys didn’t exactly hit it off at first either

- You met him during his “no color” era so that makes most of the sense

- ntgl when he first finds out about your hair he’s thrown off

- And the other trolls had so much fun with it that he considered you a distraction from the bergens soooo he wasn’t too fond of you

- And it takes a while but eventually you both become inseparable

“You hated me for no reason, and now I’m your favorite.”

“Yeah yeah.”

S/O:

- He’s growing as in character development

- So now instead of getting upset he uses your hair to read you

- He never really knows when he’s doing anything right or wrong as far as the relationship so he depends on your hair to know which path to take

- Your info dumping soothes him, wether he likes it or not

- He plays it off subtly but he knows how to fluster you and he takes pride in that (*AHEM* SINGING)

Poppy:

Friend:

- Doesn’t even realize that you’re rambling cause she’s doing it too

- You both are a special duo that at one point drove Branch up a tree (no pun intended)

- As much as the trolls like you, they don’t realize how actually dangerous you two could be together 😭

- And you can imagine the fear on Branch’s face when he finds out Viva and Poppy are sisters

S/O:

- Everyone knows Poppy is a scrapbooking master so when she begins to receive little arts and crafts from you she’s in love

- Like she’s bouncing off the wall excited

- Literally (it’s Poppy)

- She’s superrr touchy-feely so your living your best life

- Your hair is so fun and amusing to her

- Like JD she might try to scare you a couple times to see your hair spike up for fun but cuddles you after

“I’m sorry sweetieeee you know I can’t help it. Your hair is just so fun!”

“Poppyyyy you say that everytimeeee!”

Viva:

Friends:

- Basically Poppy’s doppelgänger so what can you expect?!

- Always rambling but somehow always manages to do it more than you

- She might just be you plus Poppy times five

- Clay tried to help you hide your hair for the sake of you and Viva

- Unfortunately she popped up out of nowhere startling you both and causing your hair to go erratic

“So so sorry guys I didn’t mean to…OMG YOUR HAIR!”

S/O:

- Everything you could ask for from a girlfriend

- Like she literally could not have given you anymore

- She loves your art works

- She loves to hear you talk and join in with you

- She loves the touchy-feely type

- She literally can’t find a single flaw in you whatsoever

[thevirtualvalentine]

TAPE THREE : PASSENGER PRINCESS !

Starring … ‘Red Hair’ Shanks 📸

SET SCRIPT : “Hey Babbyyyy congrats on 100! For your lovely followers event could I request afab reader with Dads best friend Shanks n some sprinkles of corruption :3 I love youuu bae mwah 😮‍💨🤍”

MATURE WARNING(S) : smut, unprotected vaginal sex, AGE GAP, use of the title “daddy”, corruption kink, underlying breeding kink (if you squint), Shanks mysteriously has 2 arms, forced orgasm, you’re Mihawks daughter, afab!femme reader.

DIRECTORS CUT : For one of my favorite people on this app @stargirldelight <33 so sorry this took me forever to get to. Apologies, Shanks brings out an unprecedented daddy kink in me I didn’t know I had …

Moving is already stressful enough, add the fact that your dad can’t seem to help you out this weekend and voila; you’re in a pinch. He’s typically off on some sort of exploit around the world anyways, a stoic mystery of sorts. But, your dad did suggest that he come help you move into your new apartment.

Which is fine and all, but you’re not sure how you’re gonna last the already tumultuous move in with Shanks around. He’s your dads best friend, or enemy, you’re honestly not quite sure.

Ever since you were a teen you admired shanks, his warm fuzzy smile, how stern he got when he was mad, and that damn signature red hair of his that you can always pick out from a crowd. You expected to grow out of it as you got older, but you could never quite kick the habit. His voice smooth like honey when he’d stumble in with your father drunk, or when he said bye after helping you move in for college. He’s really your fantasy come true, a handsome man with unmistakable charm that makes you smile even on days you don’t have reason to.

You’re older now, you should be able to handle this. But a man like him ages akin to fine wine, only becoming more and more attractive as the years gain on him. Granted, there was an age gap between you; which is what typically kept your lewd thoughts of him in check.

He’d drive this red dodge charger every time he picked you up when your dad couldn’t, like now. Red hair flowing in his face as you coasted down the highway. He smiles and asks if the boys your age were treating you right while his fingers dance along your shoulders. “Pft, I wish,” you aimlessly laughed, noting that exactly what you desired in a man was right next to you.

“Whaaaat? Cmon’ a pretty girl like you? Really?” He sounded genuinely disturbed by this confession of yours. “You deserve better sweetheart.” His eyes flickering back to the road as you’re a few hours out from your new town.

“I really don’t go out much y’know, and it’s not like I have anything to offer them,” your heard turns as you mumble into your fist. Embarrassed to let the older gentleman know just how little play you get. The compliment he gave you flies right over your head as you try to mask the growing ache for Shanks in your heart (and pussy). He’s always been sweet like this to you, patient and gentle as he places a reassuring hand on your knee. You think nothing of it.

“I don’t believe it, they don’t know what they’re missing. I woulda been all ov-” clearing his throat before continuing, “maybe they’re just not what you need.” He turns the music down as the conversation begins to flow more naturally, tension sparking like electricity in the air as he pushes further and further.

“Oh? And what do I need.” You flash him that look of mischief, one that was saved for when you’d ask him to bail you out of punishment with your dad.

“Someone who could treat you how you deserve, a real man and not some boy.” He can’t control the possessive tone that exits his mouth, it’s just unbelievable to him. After all these years and all those meaningless break ups you’d go through, it was him whose arms you’d cry into. Too drunk off cheap liquor with the sweet but sickly scent of vodka hanging off your breath. But of course, he’d listen. Always the patient type.

“And do I know a man like that? Sounds like you wanna be that guy Shanks,” it was only a joke. Your voice airy as you moved your hair out of your lipgloss. Highway wind was never kind to you.

“Don’t play with me,” and he’s back to serious. The coolness of his words sends a shiver up your spine.

“What if I meant it, hm? What if I wanted you to show me?” Your eyes now burning holes in the sides of his face, his jaw clenches as he battles with his own morality.

“You don’t think I’m a little too old for you?” He sends a glance your way, one that trails from your low cut tank top to the supple skin of your thighs before he’s back to gripping the gear shift.

“Said it yourself, I need a real man,” your knees turn to face him as you let your voice purrr. Mihawk would kill him if he found out about this, but he’s never truly been afraid of the man anyways. Especially not when his daughter is as pretty as you, there’s just so much you don’t know, so much he could show you. It drives him wild.

“You don’t even know what you’re asking for.” Eyes straight on the road, but the unmistaken waiver in his voice let’s you know he just needs one final shove before he tumbles down like dominos.

“I’m asking for you Shanks,” you plant a sweet kiss to his cheek; just how you used to when he’d leave town for months on end and you didn’t know when you’d see him again.

For once it’s his turn to be flustered, if he wasn’t so concerned about keeping both eyes on the road he’d grab you himself. “Behave little girl, you don’t know what you’re getting into.”

You squirm in your seat, the problem is you know exactly what you’re getting into. It’s finally what you’ve wanted for years. For the object of desire in his mind to be aimed at you, for your affections to be reciprocated, to be with him instead of being viewed as his best friends daughter.

You’ve driven to your new town before so you’re aware that wherever he’s driving isn’t the right way, “Shanks?”

“What? Thought I was supposed to show you.” A light chuckle leaves him as you’re parked in the back corner of a parking lot, headlights turned off.

“Come here hun,” he pushes his seat back urging you to crawl over to him. It feels so right to be held by him, yet so wrong at the same time it makes butterflies swirl around in your stomach. The lack of space pushing you closer to him as his steady breathing makes you feel safer.

“Be gentle Shanks, I’ve only done it one time before.” At that his jaw clenches. A cute thing like you only getting fucked once? It almost makes his blood boil, yet it turns sick when he realizes all he can teach you right here and now. How tight your cunt will grip him as he makes you bounce up and down on him. Oh, Mihawk will kill him indeed; that is if he ever finds out about how he’s stretching out your pussy.

His hands feel so warm on you, rubbing and groping at your skin while you get comfortable. All the attention from him at once makes your head spin, growing needier to get on with it already. “You don’t want it like that though, do you?” It’s barely above a whisper, a nasty vile secret that he somehow knows. All you can do is whimper as he ravages your neck in rough kisses, lips lingering over your pulse points. His years of experience showing as he makes you writhe.

“You want it rough don’t you, t’s ok doll you can tell daddy the truth.” He grins at your hardy whine, swallowing it down in a kiss that devours you from the inside out. His tongue invades your mouth, overpowering yours.

He’s perfect, exactly how you imagined he’d be. Strong arms guiding you further up his lap, helping you wrap your arms around the base of his neck. “Shanks .. more please—” your face hot as you plead for more of him. Feeling how stiff he is makes pride swell within you, was that really your doing? All you’ve done is kiss him, but he groans each time you lean further into his touch.

He leaves pepper kisses on your face and eyelashes, pulling back to look for any doubt on your complexion. “You’re so beautiful,” he tells you, tugging on one of your curls before wrapping it around his finger. Too intimate, far too intimate for the debauchery he’s about to lay on you.

“Spread those pretty legs wider f’me, there you go,” his phrasing patient as his knees open wider beneath you. Your hands grip his shoulders for balance while you wait in anticipation for anything… “where do you want me to touch you baby,” his eyes meet yours, “here?” His middle and index finger graze the thin cloth of your shorts.

You nod your head profusely, looking down at the space between you with your teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Shanks snakes his fingers within your walls, teasing the entrance lightly while using your slick to slide in and out slowly. “Remember, breathe,” the slight sting keeps your hold on him firm as you try to adjust. In and out, rhythmically, the pads of his fingers glide along your plush walls.

Your airy chants of his name fill the darkening small space of his cramped car. Hips beginning to bounce on his hand, desperation creeping in with each drag of his fingertips inside you. “Look at you, suckin my fingers in. Almost like you don’t wanna let them go,” he marvels at you, moving your shorts out of the way so he has a clearer view of your insatiable pussy.

“S’creamy, you been thinking about me?” Bold for him to say, he acts like he’s not knuckle deep inside you with reckless abandon for his position in all this. You’re oozing down his wrist as his fingers begin to scissor back n forth.

“Kiss me Shanks,” you ask.

“Of course baby,” he replies.

It’s always him who spoils you, giving you what you ask for. How could he deny you of such a sweet request? The squelch of your wetness grows while a tight knot tries to unravel itself within you.

“Not yet, can you wait for daddy just a lil more?” He can feel that too? Embarrassment hot on your face while your hips grind against his palm.

It’s indecent how sexy he is, toned chest peaking through his shirt, tongue slightly sticking out as he preps you for his fat length, and his deep even voice that praises every movement of your body.

His entry inside you is smooth, almost like he was meant to fit you perfectly. “Oh my god Shanks f-fuck wait—” Your head is spinning, you can feel his dick twitch with each convulse of your own walls.

He doesn’t mind that you’re clutching onto him hard enough to draw blood, no not at all, honestly it’s making him want to burry himself deeper. “Shhh baby, I got you. I got you, just breathe.” Not yet though, he can’t hurt you (too bad). Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes but he’s quick to wipe them with his thumb. Kissing your collarbones as if to apologize for the molding his cock does to your needy warmth.

The pain subdues, giving way to a hunger you can’t quite describe; but quiet mouths don’t get fed. “Gimmie more Daddy, please,” truthfully the name slipped out, but the damage was done as it left a shiver to creep up the red heads spine.

Well, how could he say no to that? His hands move from your waist down, molding the skin of your ass as he pleases while his hips experimentally shift up and down. When he hears you sigh in pleasure he knows he’s found the right angle. “Better hold on, gonna give it to you just how you want it love.” It’s in how he reassures you that he’ll take care of you that allows you to let go, letting this be your reality instead of some sick sex dream.

His strength is unreal, he’s lifting you with no problem and then pushing you down again and again. It feels like he’s impaling you, knocking your breath out with each rise and fall of your oozing cunt. “Mhm, fuckkk. Been thinking about this for a long time.” The space between you both lessens as the heat rises, giving way to an erotic composition of pleasure.

Any composure you had flies out the window as you’re left dumb and drooling as the only thing that can leave your mouth is praises of his name. Incoherent babbling about how you never want it to stop, losing yourself in the heat of his body. “So slutty baby, what would your dad think, huh?” He lets his palm rest against your stomach as you continue to bounce. Eyeing where his own outline is visible within you.

“Nasty girl, felt the way you got tighter around me. You want him to know? Know that it’s me fuckin’ his pretty daughter in my car.” His words alone are enough to make that tight band snap instantly with little buildup, robbing you of your ability to think as you cry out meek thank you’s to Shanks. He pulls you back by the hair, watching the way your face contorts as you cream around him; squeezing his cock like a vice.

The flutter of your walls spurs him on, picking up an animalistic pace as you’re used to bring him his own high. Sweat making his hair stick to his forehead as your vision focuses back in. “Think you can do it again? I know you can love.”

You’re unsure what he means but when you feel his thumb start to circle at your clit you’re a goner. The intensity of your last climax causes you to squirm as he tries to rip another out of you. “Stop fuckin running.” When Shanks wants something, he always gets it. That’s the rule. You are no exception.

He can feel his balls tensing at the obscene squelch each thrust into your cunt provides him, he knows he’ll have to wash these seats later; but for now he’s gonna dump his load in his best friends hot daughter.

“Let go.” A harsh drag of his thumb has you coming undone yet again, spurring Shank’s own orgasm where he drags you down flush against him. No where to run as his hot seed fills you to the brim. “Fuck yeah, that’s the stuff baby.”

You’re left convulsing as you try to catch your breath, slumping against his chest like a noodle. “Di.. dirty old bastard,” you weakly protest, slamming your fist into his chest.

“And yet you still wanna fuck this dirty old bastard,” he says with a laugh, peeling you off his chest to kiss you with nothing but teeth. He suckles on your tongue, making you whimper as he’s still inside you. “That’s what I thought,” he says satisfied.

Maybe he’ll have to be like Mihawk, taking out of town trips. However, he knows exactly where he’ll be going. Right where you are.

Enjoy? Reblog & click 2 see event masterlist!

[plasticferal]

girl PLEASE write something for facetime/phone sex with matt (he was looking a little too fine on that ipad in the last vid omg)

kiss me through the phone | matt sturniolo.

authors note: matt is looking fine as fuck lately, i'm going absolutely feral. short and sweet 2.8k words. not proof read! just brain goop.

warnings: 18+ content. fem!reader, masturbation, facetime, sweet talk, praise, explicit language. reader discretion is advised.

the vibrating sound of your phone rattling against your side table echoes in your room. you’ve been waiting for matt to call you all night, and with how sick he’s been lately, it’s the only way to actually see him.

you eagerly answer the facetime call, holding your phone up as you lay in bed, revealing the intricate lace bra and pyjama shorts you’re wearing.

matt answers the call, slouching tiredly at his desk, headphones on. his hair is messy. he’s shaved his facial hair into a faint goatee, and he looks perfect. even when he's unwell.

“i can’t believe you look that good and i can’t touch you” his eyes are wide as he speaks, smiling the second you're in his sight.

“i can’t believe we’re talking through a screen” you pout, rolling over in bed and hugging a pillow close to your cheek.

“you can blame nick” matt scoffs, making you chuckle lightly, watching as his eyes dart between his display screens quickly, then focusing solely on you.

“how is my pretty girl?” he asks, scooting closer in his desk chair, rubbing his hands together in that way he does when he speaks, and you get lost staring at his hands.

you’re too familiar with their touch to ignore the thoughts running through your mind. how much you miss them on your body, even if it’s only been a couple of days of not seeing him face to face.

"y/n?" he snaps you out of your trance.

"sorry, i'm good. i just miss you" you huff, rolling over once again with your phone tight in your grip.

you get positioned in an angle that pans down your body as you shift on the mattress, and you hear matt hum through the screen.

"i miss you more," his smile is so infectious.

you're giddy like it's the first time you're speaking to a crush, despite being in a secure relationship with him.

"you look so good right now, you know that?" he sounds so smug, somehow being able to be alluring through a device as he would in person.

"you do too. i like this look on you" you nod toward the screen, as if he's physically ahead of you.

matt rubs his jaw and bites his lip, the same way he would to make his brothers laugh, and you roll your eyes playfully. you know it's to entertain you, but somehow hit little bit genuinely has an affect on you.

you rub your thighs together, feeling a buzz in stomach as your mind shifts, and goosebumps rise on your skin. he just looks so good.

"does it turn you on?" he charms.

"you could do anything and it'd turn me on" you speak sweetly, a light lace of tiredness in your voice that you can drives him insane.

you can tell by the way he drags his hand down his face. suddenly his little joke hit too close to home.

"ugh, don't say that" he groans into his palm.

"why? does it turn you on?" you mimic him, in a luring tone.

"i've been pent up for like four days" he huffs, shifting in his seat.

"alright baby, i'm sorry" you chuckle, watching him suddenly become tense.

"don't be, it's not your fault you're gorgeous" he winks through the screen and you roll your eyes with a smile.

"alright romeo, are you feeling any better?" you ask pleasantly, trying to redirect the conversation, realizing you haven't even asked him how he is.

"my head still kinda hurts" he scrunches his face.

"my poor boy" you frown, genuinely.

you hate seeing him sick, but you know he handles it well. the boredom makes him more uncomfortable than the actual illness. proof being the hundreds of messages he's sent you, having full conversations with himself through text. his screen time would have been off the charts.

"distract me, tell me what you did today" he coos, a dopey grin on his face as he leans into his hand while looking at you.

"nothing exciting. i did some shopping, bought some new panties. you'd love them" you flash a warm smile, knowing your words are going to get his skin hot.

"not exciting? i'm gonna get hard just thinking about it" he blurts out, an abrupt confidence in him that he's had lingering lately. it's awfully attractive.

you watch his hand dip under his desk, where your view is cut off. you assume he's adjusting himself in his pants. you're trying to squeeze your lips together to hide a smirk.

"don't even show me, i'm going insane as it is" matt adjusts his headset, but it looks like he's doing it to make sure he can hear you better. it's like he can read your mind.

"you don't even wanna see the pair i have on now?" you begin to shift your camera closer to your body, slowly, teasingly down your torso.

"fuck" you hear matt sigh, and you lose sight of him as your phone faces down on your waist.

you slip a thumb under the band of your shorts, tugging them down and only flashing him the lace that hugs the crease of your leg. your dainty fingers caress the skin at your hip.

"i thought about you when i chose them"

he grabs your attention through his lack of response. instead, he stifles a cough, as if he's covering up another sound. it's a soft strain in his throat.

you narrow your eyes, snapping your phone back up to your face, the brightness taking you aback for a moment, and you need to readjust your vision. you're laying on your back, neck perked up on your fluffed pillows, but you lean closer to the screen to observe his actions.

matt's mouth is open ajar, and his right arm is tucked tight to his side, moving ever so slowly. you can't see the view past his ribcage, but you can string together what's happening.

“matty?"

"y-yeah baby," he asks, clearing his throat soon after.

you squint, trying to envision what your full view would be, where his hand is hiding, and the way he's in a state of stupor.

"are you touching yourself?” you bite your lip.

"’m sorry baby. just hearing you speak. your body” his voice is breathy and coarse, and he's staring at you on his screen like he's watching porn, viciously lost in his own thoughts.

“it’s been lonely in that room, huh?”

"mmph-you have no idea," he shakes his head, hesitantly picking up the pace of his strokes, making his voice shake.

you're rolling your hips at the thought of him jerking off, knowing he hasn't been able to satisfy his needs unless you're the one helping him through it. it brings you more pleasure than it should, how quickly he crumbles. even when you're miles apart.

"do you want me to stop?" he asks, and you can tell he's slowly palming himself, shamlessly all of a sudden as he does so.

you can't deny the ache that's been growing between your thighs since you've realized what he's doing. your legs arch up on the bed, and he can't see you, but you're spreading them open slightly.

“keep going" you order, sliding a hand into your own panties, and matt sharply exhales through his nose.

matt nods, leaning in his chair. he silently shows you gratitude by the look in his eyes. they soften, but are full of lust. the office chair dips with him, and the further he leans back, the more of him that's revealed.

taking time to let both of you get more into it as he strokes himself, turning the volume of his phone up to hear the breathy sounds you try to hold back. your fingers working between your thighs as you listen to his soft grunts and moans.

"are you imagining that's my hand, matt?" your voice lowers an octave, using your most seductive shift in mannerisms, voice, and stare to guide matt through.

"or my mouth?" and when those words escape your lips, he throws his head back with a moan.

"i wish i could fuck your pretty mouth so bad" his teeth are tight as he speaks, chest rising and falling heavily.

pushing his chair back so he can finally release his cock from his sweatpants, your heart skips at a beat at the sight of him with his hard dick in his grip, leaking tip and veins prominent in his big hand.

"you touching yourself, baby?" he asks, giving long, wrist twisting strokes to himself.

"mhm" you strain a hum, and pan your phone down so he gets a preview of you your hand under your shorts, caressing through your folds steadily.

you circle your clit that's already soaked, spreading your juices, and you're seeping through the fabric of your pants. you know you need to pull them off, becoming impatient by your own restriction. plus, how badly matt wants to see you.

"you have no idea how bad i wanna be in-between those thighs right now" the nearly desperate moan that spilled from his lips makes you clench around your own touch, whimpering as you rock into your palm.

trying to find the same sweet spot matt has always manages to find, you put your phone down by your side, so the camera view is on your ceiling momentarily.

“don’t stop talking, y/n" he pants, focusing the pump of his hand on his swollen head.

"you wanna see this pussy, baby?" you speak while he doesn't have a visual source for a second.

"who's pussy is it, y/n?" matt growls, and you can hear the wet sounds coming from his hand moving more savagely.

you quickly, ferociously strip from your undergarments, discarding them. you whip out a decorative pillow from under your back and rest it at the edge of your bed, using it as a phone stand so matt can have the perfect view, as if he were actually between your legs.

"yours. all yours" you swallow as you look at your screen again with heavy eyelids.

you watch as matt spits into his hand, making your core tighten.

“bet your fingers don’t feel the same as mine. do they, sweetheart?” he huffs, pace of his hand picking up when you moan in response.

you start groping your breasts with closed eyes, imagining it was his strong hand grasping at you.

“you’re a tease” you murmur, pinching your nipples hard with one hand and squeezing your legs together against the other.

"say it" he chokes out, continuing to fuck himself hard and fast, eyes flicking between a narrow stare and shutting tight with a halted breath.

"n-nothing is better than your touch"

you want to get a better view of him. you can see the entirety of him in his chair, but it's just not close enough. his sweats cover most of his hand movements, and you're mentally begging for him to pull them off.

"for someone who's whole life is behind the camera, your angles could be better, baby" you tease, breathless, and matt glares at you.

he yanks his pants to his ankles first. the sight of his shirt pulled up enough to show the tensing muscles of his abdomen and throbbing erection begging to be relieved. needier moans and whines coming from both of you before he finally fixes his camera angle.

he reaches forward to the screen, bringing it closer, and panning down more. your screen is engulfed by a close up of matt's face and lap. a perfect view.

"better?" he rushes his question. you nod, chuckling lightly.

you continue to roll your fingers across your vulva, spreading yourself open for him and tease your own hole with your fingertips. his whole arm is shaking from the quick rhythm he’s set, drowning himself in the fantasy he’s creating as he watches your expressions of bliss.

pushing into yourself while you watch him, matt almost releases right then and there.

the sight of him masturbating is something you're going to be replaying in your mind, and you already know he's going to make this a more common occurrence.

“i’ve been aching all week for this,” he speaks, voice singing through the speakers of your phone, trying not to sound too much like he's whining.

“you have no idea how hard it is to not get myself off when i think about you, y/n.” matt continues, and it makes you fuck deeper into yourself, arching your back.

you feel yourself growing a sickeningly sweet pain in your stomach, a sharp feeling that bubbles like champagne and brings you such a overwhelming sensation. you're a moaning mess. anyone hearing your vocal exchanges would think it's an act, almost sounding scripted.

“matt-” his full name is cut off in a stuttered gasp, pleasure washing over you wave after wave until all you could do was pant and grind against your palm.

"ngh, keep going. that's my girl," you're both desperate to keep hearing each other and melt completely into your own touch, using nothing but desire and the memory of him devouring you to push you over the limit.

you can hear his skin slapping with how forceful his strokes are, almost like he's putting himself through misery by going fast, then slow. playing with himself, giving his cock the same feeling you would by changing the momentum.

"wish that was my fucking hand. oh, fuck” he groans through gritt teeth, following right behind you as his release spills out onto his stomach.

"mm-matty," you shriek, grinding into your quilt cover and pushing into your fingers to feel like your climax hit it's peak, abs tightening and a sharp inhale flooding your entire body. your pleasure slowly subsides.

your mouth feels dry from gasping and you need to lick your lips straight away, to bring some relief. to regain your composure. you lean forward, grabbing your phone with your clean, shaky hand.

"god that was so fucking hot" matt grabs at the armrests, head tossed back, staring at the ceiling in a post-orgasm daze.

you giggle at the state he's in, watching his cock slap against his lower stomach, resting next to his happy trail that you'd give anything to lick clean. he gives himself a few more lazy stokes, overstimulated as he jolts to his own touch.

you wipe your sticky fingers on your shorts beside you, so you can hold your phone more comfortably.

"i can't wait to touch you again" you admire, snuggling back into your pillow and curling into yourself, bringing the screen to your face.

"better be soon, i don't know how much longer i can last without you" matt pulls himself to slide back under desk, hiding the explicit sight. you know he won't be putting pants back on anytime soon.

"come closer to the screen" you implore.

"why? you want a kiss?" he jokes, and you play along.

"i do actually. c'mhere" you wave him over as you hold your phone to your lips, probably not your most flattering angle but matt adores you in any state. from any angle. even when you're virtual.

"you seriously want me to kiss the screen?" he snorts, shaking his head at you while flashing his teeth.

"if you don't, i'll hang up" you shrug to yourself, earning a grumble from matt.

"you're ridiculous" he laughs.

"kiss me through the phone, baby" you both exchange a fatigued half-smile, as you know it's past his bedtime, so you initiate a parting line.

your eyes strain to see the screen as you pucker at the circle camera on the black mirrored surface, and matt is trying to be serious as he leans forward with a 'mwah' sound, smacking his lips onto his more advanced ipad setup.

the messy burgundy silk sheets in his background shot look so enticing, and you're sure he wants nothing more than to tangle himself between them.

"was that your way of telling me to say goodnight?" he raises an eyebrow, and you nod, trying to be stern in your sentence.

"it was, my love" you speak in a gentle tone.

as much as you want nothing more than to fall asleep to his voice, or his light snores, or even the sound of him playing videos. he needs to rest. and you know it'll be a good sleep after his much deserved orgasm.

"alright my angel, i'll let you go" his eyes are getting darker, and heavier with each word.

"goodnight, matty bear" you slip the nickname in, knowing he's too delirious to argue against it.

"goodnight, baby. dream about me." he smiles with his flushed cheeks, blowing you one last kiss through the screen before it turns black.

you're left alone with the vision of him, and your own arms to wrap around before you drift into a sleep where you will absolutely be dreaming about matthew.

end.

tag list: @luverboychris @recklessmatt @floofparker @teampurpleforlife @letstripsturniolo @imwetforyourmom @fake-sturniolos @recklessmatt @kentahoe