#i don’t think i could pull that off considering there’s only minimal swelling left. but my knee does look fucking bizarre i’ll give it that

[amongemeraldclouds]

make me

Minimal plot, just smut. You’re welcome.

When your rival grabs the potion ingredient that was meant for you, you’re willing to do what it takes to get it back.

Theodore Nott x f!Reader

Warning: 18+ MDNI, piv, unprotected sex, oral (m!receiving), v!fingering, degradation, praise, hate sex, characters are aged up.

✿ Masterlist | 2k words

You scan the near empty classroom as footsteps shuffle outside the hall. Your eyes narrow when you see Theodore Nott, your rival. He has been the bane of your existence ever since you got the top marks in your third year and effectively kicked his ranking down to number two.

It’s his rightful place you thought, but he sorely disagreed. Despite the devil may care attitude he’s known for, you know very well he can’t stand the idea that someone could be better and smarter than him. Well tough luck. You weren’t going to back down either.

He’s holding two vials of the potion ingredient you need. “The professor said one vial of Agrippa for each student!” You narrow your eyes at him.

“Ah you never know,” he sighs, holding the vial out in front of you. Taunting you. “I may get careless and accidentally drop one. Then I’ll have backup.”

“And what about me? You took mine, you tosser,” you huff.

“Did I now?” He says, looking confused as he continues to play with your vial. “Don’t see your name here though.” You fantasize reaching over and punching that smug expression off his face.  

You cross your arms instead, willing yourself to stay in control of your emotions. “Tsk tsk Theo. Never thought you’d have to stoop so low. Then again, it is you,” you roam your eyes over him from head to toe in disdain, shaking your head in disappointment. He’s absolutely gorgeous but you’ll never admit it.

“What, ridiculously handsome?” He quips, trying to mask his discomfort.

“You’re certainly ridiculous. And you’re insecure you’ll never beat me if you played fair. Poor Theo,” you reach up, trying to pat his head patronizingly. Instead he grabs your outstretched arm and looks down at you, leaning closer.

“I’m not,” he protests.

You shrug nonchalantly, trying to ignore his electric proximity, how beautiful he looks up close, your breaths sync together and noticeably more shallow. It will only take one small move for your lips to meet. “Could have fooled me. Give me the Agrippa and I’ll let you go.”

“I’m the one holding your arm,” he lifts an eyebrow, trying to assert his control over you.

“Then let me go,” you shoot back.

“Make me,” he challenges.

You watch the fire in his eyes and all the unspoken hatred it tries to convey. There’s a smugness in the set of his jaw as if he knows he has you cornered and there’s nowhere left to run. He underestimates you however, if he thinks you’d even consider running. No. If he insists on pushing you, you’ll just have to push harder.

So you take that one small move, closing the distance between you and kissing him. His grip on your arm softens as he freezes in shock. You take this opportunity to yank your arm free, your mouth still on his. Just as you reach for the vial, he pulls you closer instead and wraps his arms around you, caging you in. Deepening the kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, holding on for support.

Unwilling to lose against you, he kisses you back. It’s a clash of teeth and tongue, lips swelling with all the insults and comebacks you could throw at each other. Instead you say it in the way you suck his bottom lip hard enough to bruise. He counters with his tongue aggressively exploring your mouth.

You argue with the moans that escape your throat and his overwhelming need to devour you leads his mouth down your neck, trailing kisses and gently biting your soft flesh. Your head instinctively rolls back, giving him more access because as much as you hate him, you can’t deny just how good this feels.

Bodies pressed against each other, you feel his hard length twitch against you and can’t suppress the chuckle that escapes your lips. Before you can say something, your eye catches the vial he left on the table behind him. You reach out your hand and try to grab it again, but Theo catches on fast enough to turn both of you around in the opposite direction and places you on the desk.

“Not so fast,” he says panting as he stares at you, reflecting the lust in your eyes. “Make me cum and I’ll give you the Agrippa vial, fair and square just like you wanted.”

You scoff, “how is it fair?” He brings his lips close to your ear and says in a low voice, “because I also want you to cum for me, principessa.”

Fuck. Your breath catches in your throat.

Theo continues, “what? Afraid you can’t take me there?”

“Oh, I’m not the one you should worry about. I always finish what I start,” you move your hands to your blouse and unbuttoning it. 

Theo just smirks and helps with the last few buttons, he opens your blouse and takes a moment to stare at your breasts. “I’d say you’re beautiful, but you probably know that already,” he comments as he unclasps your bra and kisses your breasts gently. It’s so sweet and tender that for a moment you forget he’s your rival.

“Never hurts to hear it anyway,” you reply, trying not to shiver with just how sensitive and vulnerable you feel.

He smiles up at you while his hand continues exploring your breasts, squeezing and teasing, rolling your nipple in between his thumb and index finger. “You’re wonderful, bella.”

You have to remind yourself you hate him despite your legs wrapped around him and your panties soaked for him. Then it didn’t matter as all thoughts left your mind when he runs his tongue across your nipple while he snakes his arm underneath your skirt, softly caressing your thighs.

He hums appreciatively when he feels just how wet you are. “Everyone thinks you’re such a good girl, but who would have known you’re such a slut.” You whimper at his words, too turned on and embarrassed to speak.

He makes quick work of slipping off your underwear as he explores your folds, spreading your slick all over, making sure to circle his thumb across your clit a few times. Desperate moans leave your lips, and he listens attentively, going back over the sensitive spots that made you louder.

He puts his hand on your mouth, silencing you. “Sshh wouldn’t want everyone to know just how much of a whore you are,” he says as he plunges two fingers into you, and you squirm against him in surprise.

He chuckles as he pumps his fingers in and out, building pressure in the base of your stomach. “So needy, I bet you like touching your cunt too, huh? Such a dirty little slut when no one’s looking.” His voice rumbles deep in his throat and you feel your arousal drip all over his hand.

You clench against his fingers as they curl against you, hitting your g spot, coaxing strings of curses out of you. As he continues to relentlessly thrust his fingers into your dripping cunt, he sucks on your ear lobe and you shudder against him. Everything feels so good, it’s almost too much until he rubs his finger against your clit and light bursts behind your eyes.

You find yourself writhing against him as wave after wave of ecstasy overtakes you. He brushes lazy kisses on your neck, guiding you through your climax and bringing you back down. Panting, you gaze at him through hazy eyes, “not bad, Theo.”

“Come on, don’t forget your end of the bargain,” he commands.

“Oh, I would never,” you smirk and lift yourself up from the table, getting down on your knees. He grunts, removing his belt and zipping down his trousers. You help him free his hard length and you take his cock with your hand, stroking it.

You stare up at Theo through your eyelashes, “is this what you always wanted? I bet you’ve thought about stuffing your cock down my throat, shutting me up. Can’t handle that I’m better than you? Smarter than you?”

Infuriated by your words, he fists his hand through your hair and removes your hand, shoving his cock in your mouth. You take him in, amazed by just how thick he is. “Yeah, that shut you up. Got nothing to say now, huh?” he taunts, thrusting in and out of your mouth, drool spilling down your chin.

“Look at you kneeling for me, taking my cock so well. Finally making yourself useful for once.” He holds your head in place, his grip tight on your hair as he continues thrusting into your mouth hard enough to make your eyes water. You can’t help the liquid heat pooling in your cunt and you squeeze your thighs together to get some relief from the aching need to have him inside you.

Theo notices you squirming and pulls out of your mouth, giving you a second to recover your breath. “Seems the hungry slut wants more, huh?” He says, running his thumb across your puffy lips.

He grips your arm and supports you as you stand up. He brushes your hair away from your face and gives you a gentle kiss on your lips, “you’re doing so well, principessa.” Before the words can sink in, he’s already turning you away from him and bending you over the table as you support yourself with your arms.

He places one of his hand beside yours as the other reaches up to squeeze your breast. He feels so warm and electric against you, you can feel the shortness in his breath in anticipation.

He rubs his cock against your slit, teasing and coating his tip with your arousal. You remind yourself to breathe as you imagine just how good he will feel inside you. With one quick thrust, he enters you and you cry out. “Don’t worry, we’ll start slow,” he says as he moves gently, giving you time to adjust against his big, hard length. 

You whimper but don’t want his already inflated ego to grow further so you say, “is that all you got?”

You should have braced yourself when you said those words as he snickers, “oh you’re going to regret that.” He shoves himself back into you and you feel him bottom out. Salazar, he is stretching you so well.

Desperate, filthy moans escape your lips as he continues ramming himself into you, your mind lost in a haze of pleasure as the delicious friction sets your body on fire. “Not so much better than me now, huh?” He taunts, grabbing your hair and pulling your head back so he can look into your eyes while he fucks you mercilessly. “That’s right, look at me while I shove my cock inside your slippery wet cunt. Fuck, so needy.” You whimper against him, too cock drunk to speak.

“Take it all,” he says, punctuating each word with a deep, hard thrust. Your pussy growing more and more sensitive with each movement. You feel the euphoric pressure building in the base of your stomach once again as you grip onto the table, wood splintering into your skin as try to hold it together.

“Fuck, so desperate for my cock. Tell me you like it or I’ll stop,” he taunts as he feels you grow tighter against him, nearing your release. Your mind can barely keep up, but you sober quite quickly when he stops. “No, please,” you whisper.

“Please what?” Theo asks, looking into your eyes.

“Please fuck me, I love having your cock inside me,” you say, too eager to care about your rivalry.

“Good girl,” he praises as he continues his fast, persistent pace. “I bet you always fantasized having my cock buried inside you, huh? You pretend you’re so much better than me when all you are is a dirty little slut.”

You cry out and his words send you writhing against him again. Your walls clench around him over and over as euphoric waves overtake your senses. He continues his relentless pace, riding out your climax until you feel his warm release inside you. 

He wraps his arms around you as you both recover your breath. “You were so good principessa,” he whispers.

“Listen because I’ll only say this once,” you start and turn yourself. Theo releases you from the embrace so you can face him, “you were amazing.” You smile at him and for a moment, you can almost see yourselves as something other than rivals. Almost.

You grab your clothes and start putting them back on, the spell of the moment over. “You better not tell anyone about this,” Theo warns, trying to brush off the warmth in his chest. 

“And ruin my reputation? No thanks,” You rush over everything, buttoning your blouse as fast as you can. You smirk when you finish before Theo and grab both Agrippa vials, making a run for it.

“Hey!” Theo calls out as he quickly closes his belt around his trousers.

“Guess you’ll just have to come find me,” you shrug, leaving him alone in the classroom. You’ll be seeing him again soon enough anyway.

✿ Masterlist

A/N: I was randomly inspired to write this so I went to my laptop, the words just flowed and I finished this in one sitting. So grateful for moments like this!

[bookishofalder]

Catfish & Sunshine II

Read Part I ~ Catfish & Sunshine

Summary: Frankie and Sunshine are all dressed up for a special event and he can’t keep his hands to himself. Requested

Warnings: Smut, language, mentions of loss and grief, sad Santi.

Frankie reluctantly gazed at himself in the mirror that you had hung in the front hallway, giving his outfit a final once-over. He was dressed in his most formal military garb, hair combed and beard carefully trimmed, and though he felt a little ridiculous, he knew you’d be more than thrilled with his appearance.

It was rare that either of you ever had to dress up, both of your lives decidedly relaxed, free of fancy events when you were both happy to go to the bar with the guys for a night out. Hell, Frankie had tried to convince you to let him take you to the fanciest restaurant in town-Benny had been the one to tell him about it; but the moment you saw the dress code on the website you scoffed, pointed out that money could be spent in so many better ways, and then excitedly asked to go to a mom and pop Mexican restaurant that was one of Frankie’s favourites.

Tonight there was no avoiding the formal dress, the fancy hair, nor the heels. It was the second anniversary of Tom’s funeral and Molly and the girls had organized a charity event for retired veterans who needed help getting on their feet after leaving service. It meant as much to Frankie and the guys as it did to Tom’s own family. Everyone was acutely aware that if Tom hadn’t been so desperate to support his family, he would never have gone on the mission that led to his death.

When Frankie had received the invitation in the mail, he’d gone numb, not realizing he had stood frozen in the doorway for more than ten minutes until you walked through the door and bumped into him, yelling in surprise. You had taken one look at his face and knew that Frankie was on the edge and, like he knew you always would, you took charge. First leading him to the couch and getting him to take deep breaths, then taking a look at the invitation he clutched in his hand. When you realized what it was for, you told Frankie you would go with him, support him through the whole thing and then take him for ice cream after. Ice cream dates were a regular thing in his relationship with you.

“Sunshine,” He called, glancing out the living room window at the rain coming down. He heard you grunt in response, probably still trying to get your hair just right even though he thought you looked perfect with bed head. When you’d walked out of the bathroom a few hours prior, your hair was done in a fancy updo, he’d stupidly remarked that you looked great, but ready a little early. You had gaped at him for a moment before gesturing to your face aggressively, pointing out you hadn’t even started on your makeup. He’d steered clear since. “I’m going to pull the car upfront so you don’t have to walk in the rain, I’ll meet you outside the lobby!”

He heard a door open, your voice now clearly echoing down the hall, “Is that your nice way of trying to get me to hurry up, Fransisco?”

“No, no,” He assured you, trying to hold back a laugh, “Take all the time you need, Sunshine.”

When you giggled, Frankie smiled to himself and, with one last glance at the mirror, left the apartment. He was happy to appreciate the walk to the elevator now that he knew it was one of the last times he’d be doing it.

You had moved in with Frankie just a few weeks after you first got together, each of you seeing no point in you keeping your place when you were never there. Next weekend you would be moving into the bungalow you’d bought together, just a little out of town. Somewhere quiet, though the commute into your office wasn’t bad and the trip for Frankie to the nearby flight school, where he was an instructor, was minimal.

Life had been...perfect since the night you and Frankie had confessed how you felt. He was flying again, thanks to you for helping him clear his record of possession. He got to wake up every day with you wrapped in his arms (he didn’t understand how you were always cold but didn’t complain that you used him as your own personal furnace), and in a week he’d be enjoying a day with everyone he loved as they all helped you both move into the new place.

Hell, even Santi had finally come home after over a year away. Tonight would be the first time out for him since he’d been back.

And Santi, that was a surprising twist. It turned out you and he were quite the match, platonically. When he’d first settled back in just a few months prior, you had ensured Frankie spent time with him and helped Santi through his guilt and grief, to feel at home again. You made Santi feel safe, feel welcome even when he showed up late at night in need of his friend. ‘The door is always open for you, Pope’ you’d said, turning away and missing the emotion on his face, though Frankie had seen.

Tonight, you had agreed to be Santi’s date as well as Frankie’s, to help the struggling man get through tonight’s event. As insistent that Molly had been that they were all welcome, he harboured the greatest guilt and regret for Tom’s death and it was a struggle to convince him he needed to be there, that he was wanted.

Frankie wasted no time pulling the car outside of the building lobby, then climbed out to wait for you. He leaned back against the passenger side door, arms crossed and eyes gazing at the ground, lost in thought. He pulled out his phone after a moment and quickly sent a text off to Santi, letting him know they’d meet him out front at the agreed time, sighing with relief when his friend sent a thumbs-up back.

“Pope not flaking out on us at the last minute?”

Frankie glanced up at the sound of your voice, his mouth opening to respond when he caught sight of you and instead he was merely gaping in surprise, an unintelligible noise rushing out of him. There was no other way to describe it, you were absolutely breathtaking.

He’d seen your dress hanging on the back of the bathroom door earlier that day, knew that the shade of blue would complement your skin perfectly. But...fuck, it hugged you in all the right places, showed off the curves he loved to kiss every day, the swell of your chest perfectly outlined in the tighter-fitting top portion, your legs accentuated by the full skirt and simple, dainty heels. And your make-up was fucking flawless. You didn’t need it, barely wore much most days, but you knew how to do it and told him it was something you had fun doing. This was the first time he’d been witness to the full slate of your abilities, the colours on your eyelids bringing out the brightness of your eyes, your lips plump and full and deliciously red.

After a moment of gawking at you, Frankie realized that you were staring at him in equal surprise, your eyes drinking in every inch of his body. You spoke first, looking away from Frankie and glancing around as you swallowed heavily. “Sorry, sir, thought you were someone else.” You giggled, pretending to look around for Frankie.

“Fuck, Sunshine,” Frankie breathed, standing up straight and feeling suddenly very warm, his eyes unable to stop moving from your chest, down your legs, back up, then down. You gave him a shy look as you descended the steps and came to a stop in front of him, “You look perfect. And your makeup,” He pointed to your eyelids, which looked like works of art in their own right and he wondered how the hell you even managed to do it, “So fucking pretty.”

“Thank you,” You beamed up at him proudly, then dropped your gaze again to look over him in uniform, “I’ve only seen you in pictures dressed like this. I think...You may look too good, Frankie. I’ll be fighting off ladies all night.”

Frankie barked out a laugh, pulling you carefully against him so as not to ruffle either of your outfits, though his semi-hard cock was begging him to just take you back upstairs and bend you over the couch. “Good thing Santi will be there, Cariño, you can just send them his way.” He leaned down to kiss you but paused, remembering your makeup, and instead pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

It surprised Frankie when he felt your whole body shudder in response, a little sigh escaping you. He paused, meeting your eyes curiously and then nearly coming undone right there when he saw the turned-on expression he knew all too well burning across your features.

“Mierda,” You murmured, and Frankie felt both proud of how your Spanish was coming along-you’d been taking lessons-and aroused by your evident desire for him. With a pained groan, he stepped back from you and turned to open the passenger door, holding out a hand for you.

You took hold straight away, allowing Frankie to help you into the car and carefully ensure your skirt was in before he slammed the door shut. Walking around to the driver's seat with a semi in his tightly fitted dress pants wasn’t exactly comfortable, especially knowing he had an entire evening ahead of resisting you and your perfect fucking curves. He considered closing the door on his fingers just to help clear his head.

“You uh, ready?” His voice came out husky and he didn’t miss the way it made your legs clench together. Frankie glanced at his watch, his cock twitching in excitement when he realized you were ahead of schedule. He had a couple of minutes. Without waiting for your response, he pulled the car forward and into the darkened parking lot, rain spattering down and filling the otherwise quiet cab with its soothing sounds. “Sunshine?” He huffed as he pulled over at the edge of the lot.

“Frankie, what are you-?” You broke off when you caught his expression, your eyebrows shooting up first in surprise before you gave him a comically horrified look. “Oh Frankie we can’t, we’re all dressed up!”

He laughed, “Relax, Cariño,” Leaning toward you, Frankie reached down and brushed his hand along your lower leg, humming at the softness of your skin, before moving upwards, pushing under your skirt. He moved more quickly than he normally liked to, but time was a big factor here because he didn’t want Santi waiting outside alone for you to arrive. But he couldn’t resist touching you, his voice coming out in a near whisper, “Relax, sweet girl,” You did as he asked immediately, your legs parting and back easing into your seat.

Frankie grunted when he traced up the top of your thigh and found nothing but bare skin, his hand running across your mound in surprise. He looked down at you and found you watching him with a glint in your eye, biting your lip.

“Thought I might get through a bit more of the evening before you noticed.” You admitted, though your mouth snapped shut the moment he took advantage of your panty-free pussy, easily sliding two fingers inside of you.

You let out a filthy moan, hands curling into fists at your side, and swore when Frankie quickly picked up the pace and began fucking you with his fingers. “Always so wet for me, Sunshine,” He whispered in your ear, holding himself back from kissing your pretty face. He could already feel you tensing, only a few more minutes away from your orgasm, “Dirty little thing, aren’t you? No panties on, you like being ready to be fucked anywhere, don’t you?”

“Fuck, Frankie, y-yeah,” You gasped, your hips bucking slightly, “Want-wanted to surprise you a-after, instead of ice cream,” Frankie growled at your admission, beginning to curl his thrusting fingers just how he knew you loved it. You whimpered and panted for him and the possessive, more animalistic part of him fucking loved watching the way you came undone so quickly for him. It only took another minute for you to come for him.

“Cum Cariño, cum for me you perfect little thing, I want you wet and hot and bothered the rest of the night, fuck,” He groaned when you clamped down on his fingers and let out a cry as your orgasm wrecked you, hips thrashing around. “That’s it, good girl, good fucking girl.” He praised you, slowing his movements until the last remnants of your high rolled over you and you sagged back into the seat.

“F-Frankie, Jesus,” You finally breathed, looking over at him as he withdrew his fingers and placed them in his mouth. You whimpered when he groaned at the taste of you, always so sweet and almost peachy. His free hand palmed his erection, which didn’t go unnoticed. “Fuck, do we even have time-?”

“No,” Frankie admitted, somewhat heavily although he was a little excited at the prospect of the evening being coloured with your need for one another. “We actually really need to go, Santi will be waiting.”

Shakily, you pulled your seat belt on and then reached into the centre console for a tissue. Frankie had to look away as you hooked an arm under your skirt to carefully wipe up your essence, both to calm his roaring blood and in disappointment that he couldn’t lick every last drop up himself like he usually did.

The drive to the banquet hall was quiet, each of you focusing on the rainy town and determinedly not looking at one another. When Frankie pulled up to the valet station, grateful they’d erected a fancy tent for guests, he sought out Santi. You spotted him first, excitedly pointing from your seat and Frankie finally spared you a glance, happy to see your makeup remained smudge-free, though your cheeks were rather red. He smirked.

“Thank you,” He nodded to the attendant as he stepped out of the car, hurrying around to help you out. Blocking you from the view of everyone nearby, Frankie gave you a once over, “You look perfect, Sunshine.”

Grinning, you made a show of checking him out, “Not so bad yourself, handsome.”

Frankie took your hand with a laugh and you both moved forward, eyes landing on Santi a few feet away, his back to you both. The set of his shoulders was telling and Frankie exchanged a worried glance with you before he turned around and spotted you both. He grinned, relief washing his features of the heavy frown, his eyes brightening when you each shot him friendly smiles.

“Hey, Hermano. Wow, I can’t believe that still fits you!” Santi declared, first clapping Frankie on the shoulder before flicking his sleeve.

“I had to sew him in,” You deadpanned, winking up at Frankie. Santi barked out a laugh in response before allowing you to sweep him in a careful hug, mindful of your outfits. “Great to see you, Pope, you look good.”

Frankie swelled with admiration for you; you were so kind, so good at diffusing tension and anxiety just by the way you carried yourself, the easy way you tossed out simple compliments and jokes. He knew it was partly due to your work, you’d had more than one veteran crumble in front of you during appointments, their trauma coming out in the safe space of your treatment room as you tried to make them feel better physically. But Frankie, and the guys, all recognized you had a rare quality about you; a bottomless tank of empathy, understanding, of the drive to care for others. One conversation with the beaten and broken Santi and you made it your mission to aid Frankie in helping his best friend, his brother, as he waded through the same deep shit Frankie and the Miller brothers had needed to after the failure of a mission.

“Querida, you make Fish look ten times better you look so pretty,” Frankie rolled his eyes at Santi’s jibe. His friend grinned mischievously, “Benny and Ironhead are inside already, said we’re all at the same table.” He gestured toward the ornate doors leading into the banquet hall lobby.

Frankie smiled when you reached down and threaded your fingers through his own, squeezing before you raised your other arm expectantly at Santi, who dutifully stepped next to you and offered his arm. Though his friend's brows were slightly pinched in apprehension, Frankie could see he was much calmer than he had been a few minutes prior. Frankie flashed you a grateful look as you steered them inside.

The event had a guest list of three hundred, though the room was it was being held in was so large it didn’t feel overly packed, for which Frankie felt relief. He wasn’t big on any of this, but feeling like a packed sardine would have intensified his discomfort tenfold.

Despite being the shortest of the three, you confidently led Frankie and Santi into the ballroom and around the edge with enough purpose that he realized you must have called ahead to find out where their table was. Your level of preparation was stunning, beyond appreciated.

Frankie was going to make this all up to you later.

“Pope! Fish! Sunny!” Benny roared excitedly from where he stood at the table, which Frankie realized was right next to the Davis families. He flushed at the idea that they weren’t being cast aside, put in a spare table in the corner, but rather gathered right by the family. He glanced at Santi, watching as his friend realized this kind gesture and swallowed thickly in response. Benny, meanwhile, rushed forward with his eyes on you, no doubt about to pull you into a bone-crushing hug.

Santi stepped in front of you and blocked Benny, pulling the clueless blonde into his arms instead, “Hey stupid, you’re gonna mess up Sunny’s outfit!” He laughed, and Benny shot Frankie and you a rueful grin over Santi’s shoulder as you both laughed.

Gentle hugs were then exchanged between the group before Will introduced his date formally, though they all knew the bar owner well enough. Tough and quick-witted, Frankie had always liked Kenzie and had been thrilled when Will finally garnered the courage to ask her out a few months ago. You and Frankie went on double dates with them all the time.

Giving Frankie a gentle hand squeeze, you pulled away and eagerly fell into conversation with Kenzie on the opposite side of the table. Kenzie was almost as tall as Frankie and he found it amusing how much shorter you stood next to the tall blond, even with your heels on.

“Seriously, Fish, she’s something else,” Santi confessed, pulling his attention from you. His friend looked deeply grateful, eyes sharply focused on Frankie, “I can’t thank you both enough for everything since...since I’ve been back. Sunny feels like the little sister I never had.”

Frankie nodded, “She has a way of affecting people more than she knows. And she really cares about you. We both do, Hermano.”

“We all do, you mean,” Benny interjected, clapping both of them on the shoulders as Will rolled his eyes next to his brother. “Now Santi and I need to find gals as great as you two have got, eh Pope?”

Santi snickered, “Either of your ladies have any single friends looking for trouble?”

At this, they all joined in as Santi laughed, and for a moment it felt a little like old times. Those days when they had to attend a stuffy event in uniform; Tom’s absence was felt by all of them now. They took their seats, Frankie between you and Santi, Kenzie on your other side. You kept your conversation going with her but adjusted yourself in your seat so that your back was no longer to Frankie. Almost unconsciously, you reached over and took his hand in yours.

Smiling to himself, Frankie took a sip of the water already poured for everyone from the ice-cold decanter by Benny. A short time later, the event MC, a family friend of the Davis’, took up the podium on the little stage nearby and called a start to the event. They ran through a thoughtful speech about Tom, who he was, why this charity would have meant so much to him, and then called upon Tom’s ex-wife, Molly, to say a few words before dinner would be served.

Frankie felt Santi tense next to him as Molly stood at the podium and adjusted the microphone. From where the three of you were seated, you were watching her speak over Benny and Will’s heads, their backs to you. As if sensing the turmoil, you scooted your seat silently closer to Frankie, who met your soft gaze and felt himself relax at the calming expression you held. He let you pull your hand from his so that you could tap Santi’s arm. He looked around and nodded gratefully when you held your hand for him to take. That was how Frankie ended up with both of your hands in his lap, an arm slung around your shoulders and his free hand laid over both of yours almost protectively.

Molly’s speech was filled with memories, moments of Tom’s life that had tears pricking at the corners of Frankie’s eyes. His excitement of becoming a father, his dedication to helping the kids with homework even though it ended up with him pulling his hair out in frustration. When she spoke of his service, Frankie assumed that she would gloss over the highlights, but Molly took him-took the whole group, really by surprise when she pointed at their table and began to affectionately convey the friendship and brotherhood Tom held with the four men at table two. She regaled everyone with a couple of short stories Tom must have told her, each of them bringing sad smiles to the group's faces as they remembered their stubborn leader and the shit they’d all been through together.

When Molly brought up the trip that resulted in Tom’s death, she told everyone the truth that she knew; that Tom had taken a recon job to provide for his family. And that there was always a risk to that kind of work, which was something Tom knew and understood when he said yes to going.

“The truth is, Tom made his own decision about how to take care of his family. I know that he would have made a calculated decision at every point on that trip, and as much as we wish he was still with us, we know that he was there for us. There’s no one to blame for that, no one who should carry Tom’s choices on their shoulders.” And Molly glanced, very pointedly and briefly, toward Santi.

Santi’s shoulders trembled with the sobs he held in, tears splashing down his face as he nodded once in understanding at Molly. Frankie tightened his hand over Santi’s before looking to you, expecting your expression to be filled with equal emotion and surprise.

Instead, Frankie found you gazing softly at Molly with a satisfied, expectant little smile. And he realized then that you hadn’t just called ahead to find out their table number. At some point, you had contacted Molly directly-hell, you might have even sought her out in person, and you must have told her how much Santi, Frankie and the Miller’s were suffering. How she was the only one who could alleviate any of that guilt and pain and regret. Frankie’s suspicions were confirmed when Molly, now closing off her speech, tossed you a small smile of understanding.

Frankie could have dropped to his knee right there and asked you to marry him. The lengths to which you strode to care for not only him but for the men he considered brothers, wasn’t something he could lightly say thank you for. You repeatedly went out of your way for Frankie, taking on emotional baggage he could only begin to imagine, all without even telling him about it and asking for a thank you.

He struggled through dinner, to focus, to have a proper conversation, his hand often falling to your thigh and squeezing. He wanted-no, needed-to get you alone and show you just how much he fucking loved you. But the dinner dragged on, the food delicious, or so you kept declaring as Frankie could hardly taste it at this point. There were a few more speeches about the charity made throughout dinner, and after dessert, there would be a cocktail hour for people to linger, meet charity board members and socialize.

The moment you bit into your cheesecake, Frankie was about ready to burst, considering throwing you over his shoulder and making a run for it. Santi nudged his shoulder, “You alright, Fish?” He murmured, his voice not carrying as Kenzie and you discussed some renovation ideas the bar owner had in mind.

“Yeah, Hermano,” He ran a hand over his face. Santi gave him a searching look, his brows pulling together. “What?”

“You uh,” Santi paused, checking to make sure you were still distracted, “There’s a little meeting room, down the hall from on the left. They book it during the weekdays, but I bet right now it’s empty.”

Frankie gazed at Santi, confused, “R-right...” He replied slowly, watching his friend's expression turn mischievous.

“So, maybe you slip out for a few with Sunny,” He explained, shrugging and wiggling his brows suggestively. Frankie gulped, shaking his head. “Come on, you’ve both been here for me tonight enough. I can tell you have something on your mind, Fish, I’ll be fine while you two...” He trailed off when you turned in your seat, refocusing on them.

“Why do you both look like you’re up to no good?” You joked, unknowingly hitting the mark and they both glanced guiltily at one another. You observed their reactions, your brow quirking, “Okay, what’s up?”

“Nothing, Cariño,” Frankie replied smoothly, tossing his napkin on the table. He pitched his voice lower, “Can we step out for some air?” You nodded, your eyes flicking to Santi, who covered his smirk by taking a drink of wine, then back to Frankie.

Excusing yourselves from the table, Frankie took hold of your hand and led you out of the ballroom. When he didn’t stop once outside the doors in the quiet hallway, you picked up your speed to match his, “Where are we going?”

“Just down here, quiet spot,” He answered, his pulse increasing the closer he got to the room in question. Right away Frankie could see that Santi was correct, not only was the room where he said, but it was dark, the door halfway open. Sneaking a glance to make sure no one saw you both, he ushered you hurriedly inside.

You took a few steps into the darkroom, spinning around as Frankie hit the lock and did a quick survey of the space. Aside from the glow from the red fire exit sign, the room was still and empty. Santi had said the room was used for meetings, but apparently, on weekends it ended up as backup storage space because there was an assortment of black leather furniture in place of any tables or chairs.

“Are you alright, Frankie-Oomph!”

Frankie had grabbed your arm and jerked you toward him, hurriedly backing you into the wall before slamming his lips to yours desperately. When his body pressed you against the wall, you moaned in delight and parted your lips, allowing him to taste you. He was in a frenzy at this point, needy and hard already; it took him a minute to undo the fastens and buttons on his dress pants, his lips never leaving yours.

“Fucking hell, Sunshine,” He gasped, finally pulling his hard length free, his pants pushed down around his thighs, “Look at what you do to me, can’t keep my head on straight. I fucking love you.” Aside from kissing him back, you hadn’t moved since being thrust against the wall, the overall surprise of private, passionate Frankie pulling you into a random room rendering you speechless in the best kind of way. When he spoke your eyes dropped to where his hand fisted over his cock and widened in pure desire.

“W-what’s gotten into you?” You whimpered out as Frankie released his length, crouched down and grabbed the backs of your thighs, lifting. He held you against the wall with one hand and used the other to frantically push aside the extra material of your skirt. “Not complaining here, but I just-oh, fuck!” Your hands grasped his shoulders hurriedly to keep yourself steady.

Frankie surged his hips forward the moment he revealed your bare pussy, knowing you would still be wet from your earlier orgasm. He let out a satisfied grunt when he pinned you to the wall with his cock, his lust intensifying when your legs wrapped around him and you let out a weak, desperate little moan. He set an almost brutal pace then, his eyes drinking in every blissed-out expression that crossed your face, watching for any signs of discomfort.

But you only grew wetter at his rough handling of you, the spontaneous, almost dangerous situation seemingly working to increase your arousal. He had to clap a hand over your mouth when you started moaning and crying out, “Shh, sweet girl, don’t want anyone coming in here and seeing how weak you get for my cock, do we?” He growled when you clenched around him at his words, then continued. “F-fuck, so tight. Do you...have any idea how amazing you are? Th-think I wouldn’t realize how much you did for us, that you spoke t-to Molly.” His hips were moving at the perfect pace, drawing the best moans from you that he quieted with his hand.

You looked at him with heavy-lidded, lust-blown eyes, your brows raising in surprise at his admission. He felt your mouth move against his hand and lifted it to let you speak, “Y-you knew?” You gasped out in a soft voice.

“Not till tonight,” He clarified, punctuating his statement with an extra hard thrust. You whimpered, eyes rolling despite your determination to continue the conversation. The sight of you entirely cock drunk was making Frankie feral.

“I-I did it for you, all for you,” You sighed, eyes closing, “Oh Frankie, I love your cock baby.”

Frankie put his hand back over your mouth and tilted his hips, knowing exactly how to draw out the loudest screams.

“Cum for me, Sunshine. Soak my cock, then take my cum. You can walk around the rest of the night with those pretty thighs clenched, hold it all in until I can stuff you with more at home,” Frankie’s face was right next to yours, his thrusts almost sloppy but he could feel how close you were and knew you’d topple over the edge together. “Fuck, marry me, marry me, I love you so much and I want to marry you, ah shit!”

You came, clenching hard around him as your body jerked in spasms of pleasure, your scream so loud his hand barely contained it, and then Frankie slammed as deep into you as he could and came, his cock soaking your insides with his spend. He dropped his head into the crook of your neck and muffled his yells there, holding you both still as the waves ebbed.

“Fuck, oh fuck,” You gasped out, your body quivering in Frankie’s arms. He lowered you both down to the floor somewhat shakily, his hand shooting under your dress to capture any cum that spilled out of you from the motion. You all but collapsed against the wall, your eyes squeezed shut as you worked to catch your breath.

Frankie reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a pack of travel tissues, carefully wiping you and his hand up to avoid any spills onto your dress. Though, his cock did twitch at the idea of you walking back into the ballroom with his cum dribbling down your legs. “You okay, Cariño? Still with me?”

“Yes,” You replied, your eyes opening slowly to meet his gaze. A goofy grin appeared, your eyes blinking in slow motion as you settled from what had been the most frenzied fuck of your relationship. Frankie chuckled warmly, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Yes, Frankie.” You repeated when he pulled back.

Frankie grinned, “I heard you the first time.” He joked, tossing the used tissues into a nearby wastebasket.

“No, Frankie, I mean yes.”

Frankie stilled, glancing down at you in confusion-had he gone too hard? Was he going to have to sneak you out to the car because he’d fucked you silly? But then Frankie saw your expression, no longer dazed and blissed out, but now the most intense look he’d ever seen, so fierce he almost flinched. Realization slammed into him like a freight train.

“What do you...are you saying?” Frankie babbled, shaking his head once to focus, “Sunshine, are you saying yes to-“

“Yes, Fransisco Morales, I will marry you.”

His mouth dropped open in shock, your words reverberating around in his now empty head. You just said yes to marrying him. You said yes. Holy shit, you said yes.

“I-are you serious? You really want to marry me?”

You laughed, pulling Frankie into your arms and peppering his face with kisses, “Yes, si, absolutely, affirmative. I want to marry you, Frankie, I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

Frankie’s heart was about to shoot out of his chest, “But I didn’t ask you right...I-I fucked it up, I have a ring at home, I was going to-“

You shushed him with a kiss, “This was perfect. You did not fuck it up-you did kind of fuck me up, but the proposal was perfect, Frankie.”

“Probably not something we can tell the kids about one day though.” He replied, grinning when you burst into fits of giggles. He couldn’t help but touch you then, his hands trailing your arms, the sides of your face, down the curve of your neck, “Seriously, though, Sunshine-need you to know how much I love you. You mean everything to me, you are everything. I-I know this might be fast, but I’ve loved you for over two years and nothing feels more right than the idea of you and I getting married.”

You beamed up at Frankie, “Kinda worried about getting all dressed up for the wedding-seeing as you can’t seem to control yourself when I’m fancied up,” Frankie barked with laughter, happiness filling him from head to toe. “But seriously, Frankie, I love you too. Ring or not, fancy proposal or proposing while railing me into the wall, it’s always going to be yes.”

“Come here,” He murmured, pulling you close and pressing his lips to yours gently. “Thank you, for everything. For tonight, for these past few years, for saying yes.” He sighed happily, hugging you close in the darkened room as you each worked to catch your breath.

He felt you shift your head to speak, but before you could there was a loud banging on the door that startled you both. Frankie instantly tugged you closer, though he felt your hands slip between your bodies and pull his dress pants back around him properly. Thankfully, the door didn’t open, however-

“Hey, when you two are done fucking we’re going for drinks!” Benny called, his voice laced with laughter.

Santi’s voice joined in a moment later, “Christ, Benny, I told you to leave them alone-I told him not to look for you!” And then the sounds of a scuffle could be heard and you started giggling as Frankie struggled to do his pants up and get to the door, cursing when he nearly tripped.

When Frankie ripped open the door, his two friends immediately stopped play fighting and turned to grin at him knowingly, mouths opening to tease and promptly snapping shut when you appeared at Frankie’s side, carefully smoothing down your dress as you smirked at them.

“Boys, you realize you’re buying now, right?”

Did you enjoy this? Consider leaving a comment or reblogging to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Thank you 🤍

[djarinsbeskar]

Busting into your ask box to share some...

I forgot what I was saying. Something about “broad.”

Well, my love, I take no responsibilities for my actions here on out—my brain and all sense were destroyed earlier in the day because of this ask.

What did we say Din embodies? Large and in charge? Oh, he most certainly does.

He’s a solitary man, Din—used to being answerable to only himself. It’s not an easy habit to break, living by your own set of rules and not having to consider anyone else. But he tries for you, of course he does. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t slip back into his old ways sometimes…

There was that one time you thought you could bait a quarry...

Din had flatly refused to consider the idea, there was no way—no fucking way he was letting you do it. Not only was Din massively territorial – the mere idea of some lecherous criminal putting his hands anywhere near you setting his blood to boil – but you had been in danger once before because of him, and it still left a bad taste in his mouth whenever he thought about it.

But fuck, this asshole was as slippery as they came. Eyes and ears everywhere—this was the fourth planet Din had chased them to. The piece of bantha shit always had an escape route, always escaped the minute Din entered one of the shady cantinas he favoured. He’d rather break his streak of capturing every bounty though, than put you in his line of sight.

He told you as much, felt a swell of pride at the colour it brought to your cheeks and the speechlessness it inspired.

But he mistook your shocked silence as agreement.

He was wrong.

You were sick of Din being in such a rotten mood because of the wild goose chase this quarry had led him on. You were wasting time parsec-hopping and the sheer price of fuel to fund such a chase was beginning to make this contract onerous. But more than anything, Din Djarin hated losing.

He was crankier, surly in his impatience while you travelled through hyperspace to follow the tracking fob. You were quiet frankly, over it. You knew from the minimal information he had dropped whenever he returned, empty-handed and frustrated—that the quarry had a fondness for women, could be tempted to linger longer than he would usually deem safe if he had the attention of a pretty one.

It was reasonable then that you offered, and Din hadn’t even considered it.

More the fool him, you thought.

So, when he saw you… gorgeous and alone at the bar of the cantina, the very bounty he had spent two months hunting slithering from the shadows to sidle up to you plain as day, his jaw had dropped from his own shadowy cover when he saw the quarry had only come closer because of the delicate crook of your finger.

Din swallowed.

He knew you intimately enough to know what real desire looked like clouding those intelligent eyes, but even still, the sultry droop of your lids—the parting of those lips he dreamt about all over his body, it made red fill his gaze and blood roar in his ears.

You were his.

And when the bastard dared to run an unwelcome hand far too low on your back, he was behind you. He didn’t miss the lack of surprise in your expression, nor the true darkening of your gaze as he towered over you both, his bulk blocking any other view but him.

His helmet was tipped towards you.

He didn’t even look as he pulled his blaster out to shoot the bounty as he retreated, collapsing in a heap in the middle of the cantina. Dead or alive had never been a sweeter deal, even for less pay.

“Man—”

“Anyone touches that body, I’ll know,” he snarled at the barkeep, who startled and was quick to nod despite looking as menacing as any of the clientele the place was known for.

“Mando—”

He didn’t let you finish, again. Instead, he grabbed you by the arm tight and dragged you outside--- the monsoon like rain instantly drenching you and bouncing off Din’s armour, the slight tinkling sound drowned out by the sheer heaviness of the rain itself.

No one sane was out in this weather, holing up inside until it passed as it was wont to do—pouring quick and intense. Only you two.

So when he pulled you off the path into the alley beside the cantina, you were already soaked, the tepid rain cooling you and making you shiver before a thigh slammed between you thighs and unforgiving beskar pressed firm against your core.

“What did I tell you on the ship?” he growled, a hand closing around jaw hard, tipping your head up far enough to look at him, “You’re a smart girl, don’t tell me you forgot?”

Your hands – still mercifully left free – tangled in the cowl of his cape as you fought his dominance, even when you both knew you loved it, “I got results, what does it matter?”

A thrill of arousal soaked your underwear further at the feral noise that bubbled deep in his chest, the sudden sting of his hand coming down on your ass making you gasp before the pleasurable ache that followed had you rocking on his thigh subconsciously,

“You forget who the fucking bounty hunter is here along with your manners, kitten?” he pulled his hand back from where it kneaded your ass to spank you again-- pushing you further up his thigh with the force of it, the sound lost in the roar of rain that still spilled from above. This time, you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped you.

“On your knees then,” he muttered darkly, releasing your jaw to drag his hand down your throat—pausing, pressing just slightly to feel the swallow you took, “put your mouth to use if you’re not going to answer.”

You couldn’t have refused him if you tried, the primal urge to roll over—to submit to him overwhelming you along with the strength of his thigh beneath you and the power that radiated from his chest under your hands. Your knees hit the ground easily, eyes hazy with lust as you looked up at him—hands greedy as they made to undo his fly.

But Din wasn’t playing fair today, no--- you had undermined him, gone behind his back, put yourself in danger. And by Malachor, he was going to make sure you never did it again.

He swatted your hands away with a rumbled, “hands behind your back, kitten,” and once they were secure, he undid his fly himself, releasing his painfully hard cock and stroked it in front of your face for a few moments until he heard you whine his name,

“Open.”

You kept your eyes on his visor the entire time, stubbornly trying to maintain the smallest bit of control over the situation even as your lips parted, and your mouth opened for the leaking head to settle heavy on your tongue.

You sucked his cock the way he directed you to, silently thrilled at the commanding tone and immovable control he exerted,

“I said no hands, kitten--- don’t even think about touching yourself…”

“That’s it… that’s it, you can take more---”

“There’s my good girl, it’s not to hard to listen to orders, is it?”

You mewled around the throbbing length of him, nails digging into your palms to control your gag reflex as he pushed against the back of your throat but the unhinged moan he released because of it made every tear that blurred your vision worth it. You swallowed around him and he tightened his hand in your hair,

“Fuck… fuck, so good…” his head fell back on his shoulders, the expanse of his neck seal—fitted tight around the thick tendons and tanned skin you knew was hidden beneath made you whimper and rub your thighs together, desperate for him in a deliciously edged way you hadn’t experienced before.

He was being selfish, to prove a point—but beyond the point he wanted to prove, it was turning you on.

He didn’t warn you when he was about to cum, instead taking you off guard as he filled your mouth with a rasp of your name—your surprised noise smothered by his cock before you greedily swallowed down everything he had, your tongue working over his sensitive head when he withdrew enough to give you air.

You actually whined when he pulled back completely—wanting him back again already.

Din chuckled, husky and low and beautiful in its timbre as he braced his forearm against the wall above you, his free hand cupping the back of your head significantly more gently to coax you up where he pressed his helmet to your forehead, a gloved finger brushing the side of your mouth where some of his release had escaped.

You looked wrecked, and he hadn’t even touched you—that alone satisfied the beast inside him that growled to take you, mark you, conquer you. For now.

“Do not go against my decision again,” he cupped your cheek, infinitely comforting and expressing far more than his words ever could, “not about bounties, understand?”

You didn’t like being told what to do—at least, not always. But you knew he spoke from a place of care, so you nodded, giving in at least about this, everything else? Well, he had known you long enough to know that wasn’t going to happen.

He seemed satisfied nonetheless, “Good. Now, help me drag this piece of bantha shit back to the ship. We have a long night ahead of us, kitten.”

You blinked owlishly at him, and you could hear the smirk in his voice as his hand tightened possessively at the back of your neck,

“I still think you need a few lessons about just who is in charge here.”

[myelocin]

The Gratitude in Endings | Miya Atsumu, You, Kuroo Tetsurou

Synopsis: What follows endings always were the most beautiful things. In this case, after Kuroo Tetsurou, came Miya Atsumu--and for you, nothing could truly be better. 

**This is the epilogue to Redefining You (Part 1) and  To Us, A Love Story Unwritten (Part 2)! 

Characters: Miya Atsumu, You Kuroo Tetsurou

Genre/Tags/Warnings: No warnings! Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Bestfriend!Kuroo, Reader/Atsumu, Kinda a love triangle i guess lol

WC: 2.8k+

a/n: i,,,, have not let go of this AU and will probably not let go until a long time. i’m planning on writing drabbles in this certain AU soon, but for now enjoy this epilogue!

-

You suppose happy endings is the sort of cliché you’ve been wanting to avoid this whole time. After all, you’re still only in your late twenties and even if you’ve crossed some things off of your bucket list—there were still pages you’ve yet to even flip through.

Life, to you, is a constant work in progress; all you’ve known were only beginnings but the reality is there is still never an end. From the second you opened your eyes and sucked in your first breath of air, day by day you continue to leave a mark in the world.

The stories you’ve scribbled in paper, the secrets you’ve whispered to willing ears, photographs of your claim in that snapshot of the world, and the connections you’ve made—those are the things that last and remain even after you’ve gone to cross new horizons.

Life—much like yourself will always just be a work in progress.

Whether it be the ink on your skin that’s yet to be connected to another work of art or waking up to a new morning wondering how differently Atsumu’s hair will look curled around your fingers this time.

Every day that you spent watching the sun rising and setting in his eyes never failed to leave you breathless.

-

It shouldn’t have surprised you when Atsumu adjusted himself with the beat of your life quite naturally. After reconnecting in the airport, Tetsurou didn’t even have to sit you down to talk to you about his reappearance in your life.

Literally, after Bokuto landed, he left the airport that day without you and texted you that this was your chance to go home with, as Tetsurou said in verbatim, your “long lost love.”

According to him, after showing up in your weekly dinners at Kenma with Atsumu trailing behind you—that it was all part of his plan for he was the best wing man you could ever ask for.

After that self-proclamation, you and Kenma responded to his statement by simultaneously rolling your eyes. Atsumu, beside you, was apparently polite enough to laugh. Tetsurou was quick to stride over to him, clap him on the back of the shoulder and declare, “You both suck, but at least Miya-san has enough taste to recognize my genius work.”

“Please,” Atsumu laughed and clapped Tetsurou on the shoulder, “Atsumu is just fine.” From your place in the table, you smiled at Atsumu beaming up at Tetsurou, with your best friend returning the same energy.

“I think they’ll get along.” Kenma says and you smile, feeling your heart swell.

“They will,” you reply, and in return Kenma smiles because the both of you truly believe your words.

-

There were still moments you see Tetsurou break down. Eventually the ink climbs up higher and higher on his shoulders until you eventually see it peeking above the collar of his shirts. You have half the mind to ask, but at the same time, when Atsumu drapes his hands over your shoulders and you spot Tetsurou look away and bark out another joke—you decide against it.

“Are you happy?” Tetsurou asked you one day and you could almost laugh at how ironic the setting was. The two of you, along with Kenma had gone with Atsumu and the rest of MSBY in their team trip to a lake house ways from the city.

He asked that question when you joined him on the balcony one morning, a mug of coffee outstretched in offering to him. If it wasn’t for the morning fog clouding your hazy thoughts, you figured you would have caught on a lot quicker than you did—but at the moment, all you could think about was how warm Atsumu’s jacket was wrapped around you and how the roots of his natural hair were starting to peek through from what you observed earlier that morning.

Tetsurou smiled a thank you at the mug of coffee you offered him and motioned for you to take a seat next to him. He doesn’t ask the question again, but you spend the next few minutes of silence mulling about how the morning air brought bouts of nostalgia.

“I’m really happy, Tetsu.” You say and look at him, and you suddenly feel a little choked up. You blame the cold air for the blur in your eyes because when he smiles and wraps the blanket around him tighter while taking slow sips of his coffee you suddenly remember the moment you fell in love with him all those years ago.

In the solitude of the early hours, you’re brought back to the world from more than ten years ago and see the boy who spent his mornings with you through the pixilation of a computer screen. Your heart still beats with a fondness only attributed for him, but you suppose even the rhythm doesn’t flow the same way—you still love him.

And when he opens his eyes, red and teary and cheeks flushed, the fondness in his voice is as familiar as it had always been, “I’m glad, (y/n).”

You sniffle because even if you only exchanged the minimal words, you know the both of you understood everything lingering in the unspoken.

“Are you happy though?” you ask and knock your shoulder against his.

“I am, for you, I always am happy.” He says and laughs when you smack his shoulder a little harder this time in retort. “I meant you, dumbass. Are you happy?”

He laughs, sniffling and turning away from you.

“I love you.” He says, and before you could voice out your confusion he turns to you with a teasing glint in his eyes, “I began to tell myself that every day.”

You roll your eyes remembering your words from the balcony that one night. “Oh god, don’t just quote me.”

“I mean it!” he says and laughs along with you.

You think the two of you must look a little silly, crying at seven in the morning and laughing over your heartaches you endured some years ago, but your relationship with Tetsurou ran deeper than the norm, so you guess you don’t mind.

“Tetsu, I really want you to be happy.” You finally say, and you hope the softness in your tone reaches him.

Tetsurou looks at you in the way that’s sincere because he sighs into the air with a smile and wraps a hand around your shoulder—pulling you in for a half hug. You set your mug down to the side and wrap your own arms around his frame, burying your face in his chest.

He feels warm and you don’t come to mind his chin resting on top of your head.

“Happiness is a work in progress, I’ll get there in time. But I’m always facing to walk in that direction.”

“Promise?” you ask, and he pulls from you to look you straight in the eye.

Though before he opened his mouth to reply, the finality in his eyes quelled your worries.

He didn’t need to say promise because you were more than sure he was going to get there.

-

Miya Atsumu was someone who came into your life in a whirlwind of all the things you considered to be the most beautiful.

He’s a human being; far from perfection just as you were, but then again, the word perfection had always been subjective. Not a day passed by where you didn’t tell him thank you for always being patient. He dealt with his demons just as you had but like the certainty of those very demons coming and going in your life, the grip in his hand holding yours was just as steadfast and un moving.

Atsumu would be the one to tell you to bite your hand and push through it when you had no other option but walk through hell itself, but also in contrast, he would be the one to lay with you in the silence and rub circles on your back telling you to cry out whatever was hurting you.

He’d crack a couple jokes in between your sobs, and kiss your eyelids despite you telling him no and that your tears will taste gross.

You, on the other hand was always the one he came home to and your arms being opened was a constant whether he celebrated a victory or a loss.

Whether he’d cry because his service ace was the winning point, or cry because he felt second best, time and time again Atsumu would tell you his thank you for the presence through it all.

And when he tells you an I love you every day with the sun rising and setting as the witness, you know he means it just as he knows the sincerity he’s always found the comfort in with yours.

“Are you happy?” he asked you on your third year together and you could almost laugh at the parallels you’re begging to see with the conversation you had with Tetsurou some time ago.

“Really happy.” You reply and lace your fingers through his.

“With me?” he asks and smiles when you swing your joined hands back and forth. “With us.” You reply and lean forward to kiss his cheek.

Atsumu laughs and tugs you to walk with him ankle deep in the water. “This kinda feels familiar,” he comments and you laugh because it does. You mean it’s familiar because déjà vu is nudging at you and also because the both of you had found yourselves in a quiet stretch of beach along the coasts of Okinawa.

It wasn’t Siargao in the Philippines this time, and you could understand the distant chatter of Japanese in the background opposed to the dialect spoken in the Philippines those years ago, but it was the light of the setting sun peaking in Atsumu’s eyes that had you grinning ear to ear because this was your favorite part of the day.

When the both of you are a little over ankle deep in the water Atsumu releases your hand and points to the horizon on the western side of the world.

You turn and smile because he’s pointing to the sunset. Closing your eyes you, breathe in and breathe out—then smile because it wasn’t shaky. Briefly, you think of Tetsurou and what he could be doing this time in Tokyo—and smile again because he’s probably over at Kenma’s for movie night yelling into a TV and chucking popcorn in the air. You think about the new dating app he downloaded on his phone that he showed you the other day and chuckle to yourself in a way that had you feeling giddy. He was putting himself back out there and for that, you were always happy for him.

And so when you open your eyes and look at the western horizon, you shift your body to turn to Atsumu; you prefer looking at the setting sun’s painting from his eyes, anyway.

But you stop in your tracks because he’s grinning at you and then biting his lip in nervousness. You laugh, automatically choked up because he’s down on one knee with a ring in his hand.

“(Y/n),” he begins, but you don’t let him finish because as you’re staring into his eyes and see the sparks of orange and red reflected you’re suddenly throwing your arms on his shoulder and kneeling down with him.

“W-wait!” he protests, but laughs along with you, “—for god’s sake let me propose properly.”

You continue to laugh, even as you feel streams of tears rolling down your cheeks. Pulling away from him you grab his face in between your hands and wipe the tears rolling down his cheeks with your thumbs.

“Will you marry me?” he asks, but you know it’s not much of a question because he doesn’t wait for you to answer since he’s kissing the palm of your hand and sliding the ring on your finger before you open your mouth to speak.

“I had a whole speech prepared,” Atsumu whines, sniffling when you laugh at him and hold his face in between your hands again.

You could cry because it truly does feel like déjà vu, because the sunset reflected in his eyes look just like that very sunset you could still remember on that day you fell in love with him all those years ago.

The water in Okinawa is not as warm as the water in the Philippines, and the water soaking your dress is a little uncomfortable like the sand digging in your knees, but with Atsumu being in front of you crying along to the comments you’re sharing back and forth with him—you know you wouldn’t have it any other way.

-

“You know if I closed my eyes and this playlist wasn’t shitty, I could just pretend this our wedding.”

You roll your eyes, biting back a comment and let out a laugh instead. “Atsumu was in charge of the playlist. I told him to make the vibe uniform but he probably ignored everything after Atsumu make the playlist.”

Tetsurou snickers and squeezes your hand in his, while the other that’s resting on the back of your waist pulls you along to the sway of the music. You smile and lightly knock his chest with your hand that’s resting on his chest.

“Don’t tell him I’m trashing your wedding music.”

“He’ll laugh along with you,” you reply softly.

“Oi, Tetsurou!” Atsumu calls from the background; the two of you turn to face him, you greeting him with a slight wave and a wink while Tetsurou opts to shoot him a thumbs up and a smile.

“Stop tryin’ to steal my wife.”

Tetsurou laughs at your husband’s halfhearted warning, “She’s not really my type!”

“Damn straight.” Atsumu laughs, then turns towards the conversation he was having with Osamu.

“Why did it feel like my husband is trying to devalue me?” You snort and Tetsurou laughs because he knows you’re only joking.

“He trusts you and knows he can’t get rid of me that’s why.”

“Fair point,” you smile, agreeing.

“Hey Tetsu,” you say slowly, looking at him. He hums in response and looks at you with a smile mirroring your own.

“Thank you.”

He doesn’t ask you what you mean by the thank you and you smile in appreciation because you know the message was delivered without a hitch. So the two of you continue to dance in circles, with Tetsurou snorting every time the music in Atsumu’s playlist got progressively more “country” as he dubbed it.

“We should write a book about this someday.” You quip and he nods, “Hell yeah, as long as I’m written as a super buff guy.”

Thank you for being my first love.

“I mean sure,” you reply, “but when Atsumu comes into the story he’s obviously more buff. It’s just canon like that.” Tetsurou huffs, turning his head away in exaggeration.

Thank you for breaking my heart but still leaving breakfast for me that morning.

“My character needs to have some really cool quotes though,” Tetsurou negotiates and you laugh out a sure, what do you got, before he replies, “If your goals don’t scare you, they’re not big enough.” You throw your head back and laugh. “That doesn’t even make sense, but sure, we can work that in.”

Thank you for being my best friend above everything that’s happened. Thank you for accepting Atsumu.

“Wait I have another quote,” he offers and you nod for him to continue. Tetsurou smiles at you, his eyes dazzling under the night sky’s stars and the venue’s fairy lights. “He loved her enough to let her go.”

You fall silent and the urge to suddenly cry hits you. Tetsurou smiles and spins you around until you’re face to face with Atsumu, who’s staring at you with a knowing and gentle smile from across the room.

You turn to face him and the tears well up even more at the feeling of déjà vu gnawing at your chest. It doesn’t hurt in a bad way because you know the both of you are heading in the right direction this time. Tetsurou smiles and tells you, “Love you, dumbass.” before you feel Atsumu’s hand take yours.

“I’m proud of the both of you.” Atsumu whispers, kissing the corner of your temple.

“Aren’t you supposed to be the protective husband?” you laugh.

“I know he’s a special person in your life, and I’m thankful for him everyday too because him being dumb enough not to love you led to us.” Atsumu replies, laughing along with you.

“Tsumu!”

“Kiddin.”

Resting your cheek on Atsumu’s shoulder, the two of you continue to move in slower circles. You meet Tetsurou’s gaze from your spot in the room and smile when he flashes you a thumbs up.

Thank you, Tetsurou thinks when he feels déjà vu nudging his heart. The dull of his heart thrumming doesn’t ache this time so he smiles towards you again and thinks of the baby’s breath tattoo he got the night inked on the left side of his chest.

When you turn and Atsumu meets his gaze, he gives the blonde a solid nod and another thumbs up.

Thank you for letting me love and let you go, (y/n).

 -

[goldentournesol]

Mon Lapin

(Spencer Reid x Reader)

The one where Reader owns a French bakery at which Spencer is a regular.

Length: 1.6k

A/N: the french bakery au no one asked for :) i’m aware my French isn’t perfect, please don’t roast me!! MAJOR FLUFF AND PINING

Read Part 2: Mon Cher

masterlist

The air was crisp in September and Spencer loved it. He used the weather as an excuse to leave his house more often. He liked the way the wind nipped at his nose, but when it got too much, he’d find refuge in his favorite French bakery, La Crème de la Crème. The smell of freshly baked bread and buttery pastries gave him a sense of security he longed for. There were other reasons he liked to go there as well...he liked the soft armchairs...the fresh coffee...the beautiful woman who happened to own the bakery. He also liked the way her eyes softened as they met with his upon entering the store. He’d been away, guest lecturing at different universities so he hadn’t visited the bakery in a while.

“Dr. Reid, welcome back! How were the lectures?” She asked warmly, waving at him from across the counter as he offered a shy wave back.

 She had her hair tied up in a neat ponytail, with one braid across the top of her head. Her apron had minimal chocolate and coffee stains at which he grinned because he remembered how she’d been complaining to him about how many aprons she’s ruined. Spencer couldn’t help but admire every inch of her. But she’d just asked him a question, what was it?

“Oh, they were great! You know, I’ve found that college students are often at the ends of the interest spectrum. Either they’re extremely interested or they don’t even care, it’s quite amusing.” He commented, heat rushing to his cheeks. 

She replied with a soft giggle and nodded. She silently cursed as she noticed a line forming behind him, she wanted to continue the conversation, “I’m sure it is! So what can I get you today, mon lapin? [my bunny] The usual?” Spencer nodded with a hum, a familiar grin adorning his face, “Alright, one coffee and one pain au chocolat coming right up!” 

Spencer paid and moved to the side to collect his order, itching to interact with her even more. He still blushed at the nickname, one she’d given to him early on. At first, he had no idea what it meant, which led to a very awkward conversation with Emily, who’d since then made it a point to repeatedly ask him about the mystery person who’d been referring to the lanky doctor with such an adorable term of endearment. 

He took a seat at his usual spot and pulled out the current book he was reading. As easy as it is for Spencer to get lost in the words, it was just as easy for her voice to pull his attention away from them. He glanced up at her often to watch her as she greeted customers and brought them their orders. She was entrancing, and he’d often find himself rereading pages and words he thought he missed when in reality, he’d just lost focus. Every once in a while, she’d catch his eye and send him one of her smiles and in those precious moments, he’d be glad he had enough knowledge about human anatomy or else he’d be concerned about the way his heart would swell in his chest.

Spencer looked up from his book to see a man and a woman walking into the bakery together. They looked lost and out of place. They approached the counter and the man spoke with broken English to Y/N.

“Erm, mademoiselle...we are...how do you say...lost?” He stumbled over his words. They were obviously not American.

“Oh! Je peux vous aider, je parle en peu de Français.” [I can help you, I speak a little bit of French.] Y/N beamed at the couple, happy to finally put her language skills to good use.

“Magnifique! On a vu votre pâtisserie et a espéré qu’on va trouver quelqu'un qui parle Francais.” [Magnificent! We saw your pastry shop and hoped to find someone who speaks French] the woman exclaimed, “On a veut aller au musée national d’histoire naturelle, mais on s’est perdue, vous savez les directions?” [We wanted to go to the National Museum of Natural History, but we got lost, you know the directions?]

Spencer watched in amusement as well as in awe as she gave them the directions in flawless French. Although he knew enough to get by, he was nowhere near as fluent as she was. Spencer was rarely ever impressed but the way the words left her mouth reminded him of velvet.

The couple smiled gratefully and waved as they left the store. Y/N felt elated that she’d helped someone, but she couldn’t fight the blush that warmed up her cheeks when she caught Spencer staring at her in awe. He flushed immediately and averted his gaze, embarrassed to have been caught staring. He cleared his throat uncomfortably and straightened out his tie, in an attempt to regain his composure. But all she could do was bite her lip to keep from grinning, which her dear coworker noticed and proceeded to wiggle her eyebrows at her in a teasing manner. Y/N jokingly threw a towel at her coworker who knew all about Y/N’s infatuation with the young doctor.

---

Spencer thought of a plan. Casual conversation was not enough for him, he needed a way to grab her attention while somewhat staying in his comfort zone. What better way to do that than through literature? So, there he was, sat inside the bakery on another beautiful day, holding a French book. Although he recognized some words from English, the sentence structure was throwing him off. He pretended to be engrossed in the words as she passed by his table, a tub full of used plates and silverware perched on her hip.

“Les Fleurs du Mal?” [The Flowers of Evil] Y/N exclaimed as she glanced at the cover of the book Spencer was holding. He mentally high-fived himself before directing his attention to the breathtaking woman, “You didn’t tell me you could read French, mon lapin!” she grinned as she took a seat across from him, placing the tub by her feet. Spencer let his eyes roam over her excited features as he smiled sheepishly.

“Um, well actually I’m only just getting there.” He replied, taking a sip of his now freezing coffee after putting the book down. He’d been too nervous about the plan to even think of his coffee. “Are you a fan of Charles Baudelaire’s work?”

Y/N tried not to swoon over his adorable attempt at pronouncing the French name. It was impossible not to swoon over this man in general, his round amber eyes were as captivating as one’s eyes possibly could be. His eyes reminded her of the way the sun shined through glass jars of honey. She was suddenly grateful for the reduced amount of customers in the bakery.

“Well, I’ve read the poems in Les Fleurs du Mal and I loved the whole thing. Mainly because he wasn’t afraid to be controversial, considering it was published in 1857. I would have never taken you as the type to read lots of French poetry, though, Dr. Reid.” She teased, knowing full well that he was a man of science.

“Why is that? Do I not strike you as the romantic type?” He countered with a raised brow and a lopsided smile, a newfound wave of confidence coursing through his veins. 

He couldn’t believe he had her right where he wanted her and that his plan had actually worked. He had no idea, of course, that she’d been closely paying attention to the books he’s read in her shop, hoping that one day she just might recognize one.

She acted like she was thinking about it, placing a finger on her chin theatrically, “Hm, actually, you do. You strike me as the type of guy who would buy flowers for their date, but not red roses, though, too cliché for your liking. You’d probably get them lilies...or irises!” Spencer fell in love with the way she spoke to and about him. He found himself reveling in the sound of her voice and her endearing expressions.

“So which would you prefer?” Spencer asked, eyes softening at her as she brought her gaze back to him.

“What do you mean?” She asked, feeling some heat rising to her cheeks.

“Would you prefer irises or lilies?” He clarified, raising both eyebrows slightly.

If she hadn’t known any better, she’d say that Dr. Spencer Reid was trying to ask her out on a date, but she didn’t push it, in case he wasn’t.

“Lilies.” Y/N grinned. Spencer let out a chuckle and she swore her heart was about to burst.

“Alright, it’s settled.” he announced, taking one last sip of the coffee, “I’ll be getting you lilies for our date.”

She must have misheard him, “Wait, what date?”

“The date we’ll have tomorrow. At 7 pm.” He picked up the book and shoved it into his messenger bag, nodding his head once at her decidedly. “I’ll wait for you here.” He grinned at her as he got up and made his way to the door.

Y/N’s eyes followed him out of the shop. Her brain hadn’t yet processed what had just happened. She looked towards her coworker who had been sneakily watching the encounter from behind the pastries in disbelief and finally snapped out of it when she caught her coworker hugging a towel and squealing. It finally registered and she couldn’t fight the grin that threatened to split her face in two anymore. 

That Spencer Reid was one hell of a man.

Part 2: Mon Cher

[bisexualkiecarrera]

4 times JJ complimented you + 1 time you complimented him

JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

wordcount: 3.5k+

warnings: just drinking, smoking and cursing!

1. 

Hanging out in a group of only hot guys and your best friend Kie wasn’t always easy. You loved your friends dearly and normally, any day spent with them was a good one. There were just some days that you just couldn’t bring yourself to have fun when all you could think about was how you looked in your bathing suit. 

You’d explained it to Kiara during a sleepover once when she asked why you hadn’t come in the water that day, opting to stay on the boat in your baggy t-shirt. She didn’t really understand but she tried her best to be helpful whenever she saw you get in your own head after that. John B and Pope were either absolutely oblivious or smart enough to know not to push the subject when you answered their concerned questions with “I’m just a little tired, don’t worry about it.” JJ knew without you ever muttering a word, familiar with the feeling of being uncomfortable showing people your body, even if it was for a completely different reason. 

The day in question was the hottest day of the year so far, and even though you were sitting in the smallest bit of shade the HMS Pogue’s tiny driving console provided, you felt a line of sweat drip down your spine. 

“Babe, come in! Seriously, it’s way too hot for you to not be in the water!” Kiara called as she swam up to the side of the boat, head barely resting on its edge. Your eyes skittered over to the boys, treading water several yards away, but the only one who seemed to be listening to your conversation was JJ. He gave a small encouraging smile before turning back to the two boys splashing each other like children. 

You bit at your lip for a second, mulling over your decision before realizing it really was too hot to stay dry. You mumbled out a “fine” as you went to slip your arms out of your sleeves, “but go back to the boys and I’ll meet you over there.” Kiara gave you a wide smile before pushing off the boat, swimming gracefully back towards the group. 

You shed your shirt quickly and got in the water, trying your hardest to make as small of a splash as possible. You sink your head under the water, wetting your hair as you make your way towards your friends. You take a look at Pope now floating peacefully on his back and make eye contact with a smiling John B. “Hey, little minnow. Nice of you to join us.” You roll your eyes fondly at the nickname, leftover from when you were kids. Back before you the world taught you to be self conscious, it was nearly impossible to get you out of the water and back into regular summer clothes, and so your fishy nickname was born.

You wink at JB before swimming quietly towards Pope, who still had his eyes closed as he faced the sky. You get close before stilling for a second, letting the waves settle around you. You lean in towards his ear and let out a “boo!,” sending the boy flailing. The three others laugh off to the side as you and Pope begin a splash fight. Not long after, JB can’t help but join in, followed by Kie. You take this as an opportunity to wade over to JJ, who’s looking at you with pride mixed with something you can’t quite place. “What’s the look for, J?” He takes a second to look over your face again, brow furrowed slightly in confusion. 

He shrugs a little as he answers, meeting your eyes. “You just look really pretty like this, all happy and back in the water.” You feel heat unrelated to the temperature cover your face as your eyes dart back to your friends, Kie now hanging on Pope’s back. 

“You’re just glad there’s finally someone who can beat JB in a race in the water.”

2.

A movie night at the Chateau just isn’t complete without an all-out pig fest, food scattered on every counter and table. Kie is generous enough to supply you all with enough fries from The Wreck to last a lifetime, and Pope brings along some ice cream, but always the cheap kind that his dad is willing to part with. John B mans the grill, making you all hot dogs and cheeseburgers while JJ provides the bud and whatever beer he can steal out of his fridge or convince his cousin to buy for him. Over the years, he’s also claimed the spot as your assistant, hovering over your shoulder as you move around the Chateau’s already cramped kitchen making brownies. 

It’s been years that you’ve been making what you call “kitchen sink” brownies for you and JJ and JB. They appear at every birthday and holiday and whenever someone is especially sad. They’re really just boxed brownies with whatever snacks you can find thrown into the batter, but JJ loves to be the one who gets to crunch up the toppings and sprinkle them, and you figure that the world owes JJ Maybank every second of happiness he can find. Tonight, the search through your kitchen at home proved especially successful, coming away with not only chips and pretzels, but also mini oreos and a pack of m&ms. 

JJ walks around the counter to see your finds spread out on the counter and his jaw drops. Your giggle tears his eyes away from the assortment and he raises one eyebrow in question. “You’re sure your parents are cool with you taking all this stuff?” The question makes you laugh, and you lean in like you’re about to tell JJ a secret.

“If I’m gonna be honest,” you drop your voice to an almost-whisper, “I think my mom bought extra snacks this week just for this.” A small smile appears on his face, and if you hadn’t known him for so long, you would have no clue that there was a little sadness behind it, thinking of his own parental situation in comparison to yours. “C’mon, J. Batter’s done, pan is greased. All I need is your supreme topping skills.” 

What seems like forever, but in reality is only 30 minutes, passes by before you slip back into the kitchen to take your brownies out of the oven. The raggedy oven mitt JB leaves on the counter for you is barely hanging on by a thread so you grab the extra cleaning rag to wrap around your covered hand for protection. The second the pan touches the oven, JJ is there behind you, looking over your shoulder. You turn to him, eyebrows raised in scolding as his hands fall to your hips. You place your hands on the plane of his chest and push gently backwards, shaking your head. “I’ll put a five minute timer on. Go sit, you know they’re too hot right now.”  He allows you to guide him back to the couch before you pull out your phone and set the alarm, pulling you to settle into his side. 

The timer goes off and JJ jumps so quickly it genuinely startles you. You all share a chuckle at how fast his feet moved, and in no time at all, he’s back next to you, a brownie on a paper towel in each hand. He extends one out to you and you gladly take it. “Hey, man, thanks for getting me one too, really thoughtful of you,” John B says as he makes his way to the kitchen to cut one for himself and Kie and Pope. JJ’s mouth is already full of brownie and there’s a smug smile on his face as he swallows. He shouts a “yeah, of course, buddy!,” after your friend’s retreating figure before turning to you. 

“You know these brownies are ring-worthy, right? Like, SO fucking good I’m considering proposing right now.” 

You giggle at the statement as crumbs fall from his lip. Your only answer is “JJ, you know you did half the fucking work, right?” He laughs at your response and wiggles his eyebrows. 

“Guess that makes us both wifey material!”

3. 

By far, your least favorite part of your friendship with JJ is tending to his various cuts, bumps and bruises. Between JJ’s general recklessness, his ongoing beef with Rafe Cameron, and Luke Maybank himself, it felt as though you spent every other day standing between his knees as he sat on your bathroom counter. This time, a particularly heated run in with the kooks had thankfully left JJ with nothing but a busted lip, bloody knuckles and an adrenaline high. His mouth was running a mile a minute, recounting every step of the fight despite the fact that you’d witnessed it all first hand. 

“Did you see the look on Rafe’s face when he hit the ground? Absolutely unreal!” You let out a frustrated huff as he waved his hands wildly, not noticing your own hand outstretched to grab his. 

“Yeah, J, I saw but please give me your hands. I need to put antiseptic on.” Your voice is a little pleading and he quiets at your request, laying his wrist in your hand and watching your face as you get to work. You dab at the cuts with a soaked cotton ball, and it doesn’t escape either of you that JJ no longer flinches at the sting. Once you’ve moved on to the other hand, his stare intensifies as you carefully move his rings around to make sure there’s no hidden nicks underneath them. When it’s time for you to move onto his face, he places his hands gently in his lap and lets you inspect his face closely, turning it from side to side with a finger at his chin. Your demeanor lightens a little when you’ve decided the damage is as minimal as possible. “Really glad you managed to keep Rafe away from the money maker this time. Well, mostly.” You punctuate your point by pressing the cotton to the tear in his lip and the pressure makes him hiss. You pull your hand away and grab the vaseline, smearing a small amount over the cut as gently as possible. “You really should ice that, J. Keep the swelling to a minimum.”

You realize a little belatedly that he hasn’t taken his eyes off your face the entire time you’ve been working and your eyes raise to meet his. The look in his eyes is a little confusing and a little startling, and his voice is gentle when he says “Thank you for patching me up. You always take the best care of me.” 

You let out a deep sigh before patting his leg gently and moving towards the door. “I think I could find work as a school nurse with all this experience you’ve given me.”

4. 

A boneyard party used to be your absolute favorite way to blow off steam on a Friday night. The sand, music, booze and weed were the easiest way to melt away the stress of a long week, but lately, the stress of seeing your best friend sneak off with some random had you absolutely dreading stepping foot on the beach. Most of the time, you had a pretty easy time keeping your less than platonic feelings for JJ at bay. You always rationalized swallowing your emotions down by telling yourself that you both needed each other as a friend way too much to jeopardize that. It was getting harder and harder to listen to your own advice lately, and partly because you weren’t quite sure what he was feeling. He’d been especially affectionate lately, not giving second thought to curling his body around yours on cold nights around the fire. His compliments had become less silly and teasing, and sometimes when he looked at you, it felt like he was staring straight into your soul. 

Tonight, you’d allowed Kie to pick you out an outfit from your closet, not wanting to spend time debating with yourself and getting yourself stressed. She’d picked out a pair of high waisted denim shorts and a cropped white t shirt, topped with a yellow scarf to tie around your ponytail. It was simple enough that she knew you’d be comfortable but cute enough that you’d feel confident. 

Secretly, she’d also seen the way JJ eyes had dragged slowly over your figure when you’d worn those shorts the week prior. Neither of you had spoken to her, or Pope or JB, about your feelings for the other, but they as a group had all witnessed the gentle way you handled each other and had their suspicions that one of you would break soon. She’d driven you to the boneyard, promising to stay sober enough to relocate you all back to the Chateau at the end of the night. She pulled your hand along, heading straight to where she knew your friends would be congregating, just behind the keg. JB and Pope each had a full cup in hand when you approached and JJ had a joint hanging from the side of his mouth. “Gentlemen, let’s get it going,” Kie startled the boys, a giant smile across her face. 

A few hours into the party and a considerable amount of beer later, the realization hit you that JJ hadn’t wandered off to find someone to mack on yet. He’d even turned down the touron who approached him first, despite her tiny skirt and flawless makeup. It had to be some sort of record for him, usually his presence at these parties was fleeting. You thought back to just the week before when you’d watched him lead a beautiful curly-haired girl back to the Twinkie. You’d felt nauseous watching them flirt, his legs parted as he sat on a low hanging branch with her settled between them. Her hands rested on his chest as she stared up at him from under her eyelashes and you had to rip your gaze from the pair when he slid from his perch and wrapped her hand in his. You kept your eyes on the ground as they passed, but like a train wreck you couldn’t help but watch, you were unable to stop yourself from throwing a last glance in their direction as they approached the van. He’d turned to look at her with a sly smile on his face and must have caught your eye over her shoulder. His smile dropped quickly and something looking like an apology crossed his face for a second but when you looked away again, focusing on holding the burning tears in your eyes back, he recovered and smiled back at the girl, pulling her into the spacious backseat. 

Even just the memory had you tense, and JJ felt the uneasiness radiate off of you from his position by your side. He called your name gently so as to not call attention to the two of you and you turned your head quickly, blinking away your thoughts. Your eyes focused on the concerned look on his face. “You alright? Did someone upset you?” JJ’s eyes were already scanning the crowd for who could have possibly upset you and it pulled a small smile to your face. 

“No, J, I’m alright, just thinking. All good now.” His face turned back to you, a small pout gracing his lips. He asks if you’re sure and when you nod in agreement, he turns his attention back to your friends. The two of you watch Pope and John B argue about if Gatorade was actually better for you than regular water or not for a few minutes before you turn back to JJ. “Hey, JJ?” Your voice is small and it surprises the boy beside you to hear you so timid. When his attention is turned on you completely, you start your question. “Is there a reason you turned down that girl before? She was like, stupidly pretty.” You’re finding it a little hard to meet JJ’s eyes as you ask, so you fiddle with the strings on your bracelet instead. 

A small chuckle leaves his lips before he replies with “I got the prettiest girl at the party standing next to me already. Why would I leave?” Your eyes meet his and there’s no humor anywhere on his face and you can feel yourself get hot under his gaze. You’re left speechless for a second before the sound of Kie’s voice pulls you from the moment. You clear your throat and turn back to your friends, mumbling under your breath. JJ replies with a “hmm?” and you repeat yourself a little louder this time, so he can just hear you.

“Kiss ass.”

+1

Somehow, Kiara had managed to convince her parents to allow you to come to Midsummers as her guest and by an even greater miracle, you’d managed to save enough babysitting money to buy yourself an appropriately fancy dress, floor length and blue with pretty flowers embroidered on it. You arrive at the Carreras’ house early in the afternoon to begin getting ready, helping Kie put her hair up with some flowers pinned in. You chose to keep yours mostly down and let your best friend weave some braids in, tiny beads sprinkled down the length of them. Neither of you put on very much makeup, but it was still more than you’d worn in recent memory, and it felt nice to look in the mirror and actually feel pretty and put together. Kie comes up behind you as you look in the full length mirror and wraps her arms around your waist, chin resting gently on your shoulder. “We look fucking good, don’t we?” She giggles and scrunches her nose up as you meet her eyes in the mirror. 

You nod emphatically before turning to face her, a wide smile on your face. “Hell yeah, we do, baby! The lady pogues know how to clean up good!” Your response makes her laugh, head thrown back, and it makes you wish all your friends would be in attendance, despite how much you love girl time with just you and Kie. 

Your dreams of being able to spend the night with all of your friends almost came true, spotting John B on Sarah’s arm from across the room upon your arrival. The night became even sweeter when you saw Pope standing next to his father, but even as the five of you stood together at the edge of the party, people watching and laughing, you couldn’t shake the feeling that JJ was the piece you were missing most. Kiara and Sarah left to make their way to the restroom and Pope was pulled away to help his dad, leaving you and JB standing in the corner. “You should go see him, you know. Skip out early, I’m sure Kie wouldn’t mind.” You turn to look at your friend, confused at his sudden idea. You had a feeling you knew exactly what he was saying, but you waited for clarification, fiddling with the glass in your hand. “JJ is at the Chateau and before I left, he seemed pretty upset that he wouldn’t get to see you in your dress.” 

He holds out the key to the twinkie and your jaw drops a little, and it makes JB chuckle, shaking his head slightly at your obliviousness. It really hits you all at once, exactly what JJ’s recent change in behavior meant. The intense stares, the end of his slew of meaningless hookups, and especially the sincere compliments that you’d been taking as a joke. You knew you had to see him, so you looked up at JB and handed him your glass, taking his keys from him. “Tell Kie where I went, please.” You turned and started to make your way through the crowd and you heard John B’s cheer through the noise of the party, smiling as you reached the door. 

You don’t even bother turning the radio on when you get in the van, the pounding of your heart loud enough. When you get to the front door of the Chateau, you can hear the television on and it takes a second to see JJ’s outline resting on the couch. The front door slams behind you and JJ doesn’t turn right away. “Jeebs, why are you ho-” The question catches in his throat when he turns and sees you in the doorway instead of John B. He breathes out a quiet “wow, hi.” You move towards him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders so that his hands fall at your hips. 

“JB told me you wanted to see me in my dress, so here I am.” You look up at him teasingly as a blush spreads across his cheeks. “Plus, I couldn’t really have any fun at the kook party. The cutest boy in town wasn’t there.” It’s JJ’s turn to be left speechless and it makes you giggle. The sound pulls him out of his trance and its milliseconds before his lips are pressed to yours. You snake your fingers into his blond hair and you feel his hands squeeze at the meat of your hips as your lips part and he licks into your mouth gently. It feels a thousand years before you pull away, resting your forehead against his. “You’re my favorite person, JJ Maybank. I think you always will be.”

[jamespotterthefirst]

Winner Takes it All

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 2K Warning: Language, Adult situations Summary: A kiss on a balcony in Miami (Ch 10) Series: Open Heart from Ethan’s POV

Author’s Note: I’m terrible at editing so sorry if there’s some Ethonks and Lilys. Also, I took a few liberties with the narration, even if the dialogue is the same. 

_____

The alcohol coursing through his veins did nothing to mellow out the pure blast of adrenaline Ethan was feeling. In suggesting they moved to the balcony, he had hoped the breathtaking view of the ocean would be enough to quell the excitement of the card game. His mistake had been thinking he could be anything but a whirlwind of emotions with her sitting by his side, looking so serene, it almost made the recklessness of the night appear like a lucid dream. 

“Naveen always hoped we’d find a way to make the diagnostics team publicly funded...So that no one will need to pay, no matter their insurance or income.”

She turned to glance at him and his breath involuntarily hitched. In the moonlight, cheeks flushed slightly from the wine, the blue of her dress complimenting her features perfectly, she looked nothing but striking. He was beginning to accept she would be lovely beyond comprehension in any light. 

“What will he think of getting Panacea Labs involved?”

Ethan paused, stomach coiling with guilt. “He’ll give me the worst chewing out of my life. And I’ll deserve it. I’ve compromised his vision, my ethics...But if he survives this...it’ll all have been worth it.”

“Do you really believe that?”

Ethan considered that, the music of the tide below them the only sound between them. 

“I don’t know. Ten years ago, I was right where you are. A wide-eyed intern, dreaming of what I’d do when I was an attending.” He glanced at her then, fighting the distraction of her clever eyes observing him so earnestly. “I certainly wasn’t dreaming of this.” 

Ethan glanced at the ocean again, letting his thoughts unravel. He would have never imagined back then that, as an attending, he would find himself desperately fighting to save his mentor. A flood of emotions overwhelmed him in the span of a second as he thought of what Naveen meant to him back then, of what he meant for Ethan now. 

Ten years ago, he also never imagined to be so utterly consumed by one of his interns. What would his past self think of Ethan now? Would the righteous, incorruptible young man he had been feel disgusted at how infatuated Ethan was with someone he was supposed to be mentoring? 

“But things change. People change.”

A comfortable silence settled between them. 

“What about you? What kind of doctor do you see yourself being in ten years?”

“The kind of doctor who could make a difference in patient care.” 

He smiled. “More than you do now?”

Lilac matched his own lighthearted amusement. “I’m only an intern! I do barely anything now!”

“Not true. I’ve seen how hard you work for your patients. Even if they don’t always value it, you do make a difference.”

She held his gaze for a few beats longer than normal, looking slightly taken aback by such a keen response from him. 

“But not enough,” she finally said with a sigh, her smile dimming. “I helped one uninsured patient receive care, but I can’t find loopholes for everyone. The entire system needs to change, and I want to be a part of it.”

A surge of pride swelled in his chest at that. “And I have no doubt you’ll find a way.”

By now, all traces of her smile disappeared entirely. Her voice was oddly quiet as she said, “It just seems like the higher I aspire, the more I stand to lose.”

His stomach plunged, reeling at how the words resonated with him. “I...certainly understand that.”

Suddenly, looking her right in the eye felt like a risk, as though he would expose everything plainly for her to read. Without another word, he stood and made his way to the railing. His mind raced with a multitude of thoughts. His heart, similarly, pounded against his rib cage, frenetic. 

“What you saw tonight, that’s not me. I don’t gamble...on anything. I don’t take chances.” The words left him before he could decide why he needed her to hear them. “Medicine is an assembly of facts leading to a conclusion. Once you know the rules and understand the diseases you’re working with, the risk should be minimal.”

Desperation hummed through him, rushing the words forward. 

“Your decisions are informed, and you chose the safest path. But that card game...I’ve never done anything like that before.”

He became too aware of her presence suddenly at his side. All the while, his pulse clamored at his ears, announcing something looming that was still unknown to Ethan. 

“I don’t know. It seemed like a pretty well-informed decision to me.” Her voice was soft, understanding, and even a little impressed. 

“Risking Naveen’s treatment on a game? Having to hope I’d judged Declan’s character well enough to risk losing instead of using a winning hand?” 

His every breath was an entity of its own, ripping from his chest with the building urgency. 

“There were too many variables! I could have lost everything!”

“But you were right. Your risk paid off.”

His eyes remained fixed on the ocean as a newfound bravery swelled inside him, as undeterred and formidable as the rolling waves. 

“It did...and I’m beginning to realize…” 

He turned to lock eyes with her. 

“There are some things that are worth any risk.”

Lilac froze for the briefest of moments and then understanding bloomed like the dawn in her features. Something softened in her eyes as she raised a delicate hand to stroke his cheek. 

“Lilac, I…” 

“I know.”

Ethan's eyes fluttered closed against her caress, swallowing hard. Every one of his senses was commanded by her —her heady perfume, the softness of her skin, the sound of her uneven breath, her beautiful face basked in moonlight. As his eyes fell to her lips, he felt the last remnants of his judgment fade. 

With rougher force than he intended, his arm circled her waist, their bodies pulling together like magnets. And then he was kissing her, long and hard. 

It was as though his body had found its home in her after months of aimlessly searching. The way she pressed herself even closer to him as she kissed him back, every soft curve molding against his hard chest, revealed to him that she felt the same way. A primal urge overtook him at the thought, his hands gripping the sandy sequin of her dress in a wild grip, his tongue prying her lips open with ease. With a dizzying groan, he realized she had given him access, enthusiastically tilting her head to the side to deepen the kiss.

“Dr. Ramsey, you’re—”

He had her pinned against the railing now, his lips descending down the graceful curve of her neck. 

“Ethan.” His voice was a low, dark murmur against her throat. It was almost a plea. He needed to hear his name on her lips. 

She did not disappoint. 

“Ethan,” she all but moaned. “I’ve been wanting this.”

He broke away to meet her gaze, his clamoring heart feeling lighter still. 

“So have I.”

To prove it, he brought their mouths together again, this time in a tender kiss. As his lips stroked hers in slow, deliberate movements, he poured every piercing emotion burning within him for the past few months. Every time he had longed to pin her against his office wall became a sweep of his tongue, every time he had yearned to silence her taunting quips with a kiss became a nip of her lower lip. 

 The kiss quickly moved from gentle to ravenous when her fingers began to undo his buttons. Lilac looked at him through dark, hooded eyes before kissing every bit of newly exposed skin. 

“Mmm…”

God above, she was going to kill him with that sultry little sigh. 

Ethan cursed softly when she took his mouth again, her fingers moving to lose themselves in his hair. His hands, meanwhile, had less honorable intentions, spurred by the indecent ministrations of her tongue. With ungraceful movements, Ethan's fingers claimed handfuls of her hips, causing her to hiss against his mouth. They moved desperately up the contours of her curves until they reached the swell of her breasts. 

With a guttural groan, he broke their kiss to lavish the plunging neckline of her dress with attention. Lilac clung to his shoulders, throwing her head back in pleasure as she breathlessly urged him on. Barely containing his want, he obeyed, using his lips and tongue to taunt the tops of her breasts. When his teeth grazed over the pebbled mound straining against the front of her dress, she moaned loudly. 

“What if someone sees us?”

Lilac opened her eyes from her bliss to give him a taunting look. Dark eyes and kiss stung lips made her so enticing that his fingers gripped further into her hips, despite his initial concern. Ethan could've taken her right there, against the railing, no matter who saw or heard. 

“Come with me then.”

The words had just left her lips before she kissed him fiercely, guiding him away from the railing by the lapels of his tux. They blindly bumped into furniture and when they clumsily knocked over the champagne bucket, she laughed against his mouth and tried to pull away. Ethan held her tight, however, not giving a single damn about the damage to property so long as she continued to kiss him like that. 

Lilac did pull back briefly and prodding a finger against his chest, she pushed him down on the chair. “Sit.” 

Ethan obeyed readily.

Another low, raspy curse left him as she straddled him and moved her hips against his. His body had been awakened by her from the first moment their lips touched. Now,  with only the thin barrier of their clothes separating them, she slid along the thick, hard column of her effect on him.

A surprised little gasp escaped her, turning into a maddening, wanton moan. Lilac glanced at the meeting point of their centers, incredulous about what she felt. When she glanced up at him, she gave him an impressed smile.  He felt himself grow impossibly harder.

She moved over him again, the skirt of her dress hiking higher still.

“Lilac…” he groaned.

Her response was another searing kiss. When they pulled apart for breath, he paused to take in the magnificence of her body from his new angle. What a lovely sight she made, hair tousled, skin flushed, and dark eyes fixed adoringly on him. He was about to tell her as much, when she smiled a lazy, captivating smile that made his every nerve ending flare up. 

“What are you doing to me?”

“Hopefully something good.” Her simpering smile was pure sin, made wickeder still by the way she guided his hands along her bare thighs and hips. 

He wanted her so badly it hurt. 

“Lilac, I’ve never done anything like this. Ever. This is—”

Their joined hands paused at the dip of her waist as she gently shushed him. Without uttering a single word, she freed one of her hands and placed it on his chest, right over his thundering heartbeat. Ethan watched her reaction closely, afraid his traitorous pulse revealed more about his feelings for her. 

Instead of teasing him, she guided his hand to her own chest. The wild drumming of her heart was unmistakable, keeping an easy pace with his. 

“You...feel amazing.”

“Wait ‘til you feel the rest of me.”

Ethan laughed. God, how he loved her. 

The laughter died in his throat as easily as it had begun, his heart sinking horribly as the thought caught up with him. As panic began to take root in his stomach, so did the realization of what they were doing. He had crossed a line with her that could never be undone. The longer he remained in her embrace, getting lost in her heady kisses, the more damage he caused her career. 

How could he be so fucking selfish? 

Completely unaware, Lilac shivered slightly from the bitter breeze swirling around them. 

“Let’s get you inside.”

Her green eyes were alight with promise as she took his hand and guided him inside. Imperceptibly, he unclasped their hands as they walked, letting his own fall to the side. Throat tight and stomach roiling with guilt, he forced himself to stop at the door, bracing himself against what he was about to do. 

_______

Author’s Note: Ah, I had to stop there. My brain would explode if I wrote how he breaks MC’s heart next. 

THANK YOU for reading this.

 I will continue to post the “50 Ways to Say ILY” drabbles over the next few days. Thank you to everyone who sent one in. I promise I am working on all of them! 

___________

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@dulceghernandez​​​​ |  @lion-ess24 | @emotionalswift2 | @the-soot-sprite |  @angela8756

[fangirlingincamouflage]

Blind Hope: Chapter 7

Title: Blind Hope Author: Rosie Dayze Word Count: 1,232 Pairing: Nick Jakoby x Reader Chapter Rating: PG-13 Themes: Angst, Plot, affectionate frustration Disclaimer I do not own Nick Jakoby, he is the intellectual property of Netflix Originals, I make no money from this fanfiction. Dedication: @14readwritedraw96 and @thezucchini​ (For being so wonderfully enthusiastic) TW/CW Descriptions of pain, long term hospital stay

Previous chapters:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7 <~ You are Here

You are standing in the middle of the pasta isle at the grocery store when your cell phone goes off. It's that distinctive ping of an unknown number texting you. You sigh, roll your eyes, and wonder what is the easiest possible thing that you can make for dinner that night. In the past six days your workload has tripled. June and Em are on a much needed vacation and Nick is still unconscious at the hospital.

You know that because you called right before you left to go grocery shopping. You also called first thing this morning, and last night, and the morning before, and the night before that. You have called the hospital at least twice a day for the past thirty-seven days. You got the exact same information.

“Officer Jakoby is still in an induced coma, and he is not ready to be seen by friends or family.”

It was maddening.

Your phone goes off again and you set a jar of premade sauce back on the shelf. Your stomach isn't feeling red sauce. It isn't feeling pasta. Or oranges. Or any one of a thousand other things you were totally down for eating. You hadn't been hungry since the night part of LA went up in magical flames. Since Nick had been hospitalized.

With a sigh you eased into the snack isle. Is a bag of chips an acceptable replacement for dinner? Probably not, but you've had take out for the past two weeks and absolutely none of it has filled the steady, continuing ache in your heart.

Your phone goes off again.

“What?” you snarl loud enough to make the old lady with a basket full of frozen dinners blink with bewilderment. “Sorry. Not you.”

You pull your phone out and waive it at her. She doesn't look convinced, and doubles her speed to get into the next isle.

With a few swipes you bring up your new messages.

“This is Jessica, the Head Nurse at the Intensive Care Unit at the UCLA Medical Center.” The first message reads.

Your heard pounds so hard in your chest that your vision goes a little hazy. You grip your phone tightly enough to make the screen rainbow with protest.

“Nick Jakoby has achieved a state of continuing consciousness. One of my nurses made the mistake of telling him that you had stopped by.”

That hazy feeling turns to ash. You had wanted to see him yourself, to let him know what had gone on, and why you hadn't talked to him in six, not seven, months.  He must be angry, furious.

The third message is brief, and comes across as a little mad. “In order to keep him in bed, I promised him you would come see him tonight. Do not make me a liar.”

You desert your cart, and take the shortest possible trip to the hospital that you have ever taken. Which is impressive, considering all the times you driven up there in the past month, just in case something had happened between your morning and evening check-ins.

You don't stop at the front desk, you know where you are going. The elevator doors close as you turn the corner, and the wait for the next ones seems like an eternity. The moment the doors whoosh open, you surge inside hitting the buttons for the ICU floor. You don't even wait. You ht the close-door button and watch your reflection stare back at you as the lift starts to rise.

What are you going to say? Should you have gotten balloons? Flowers? A stuffed animal? Would he even be allowed those things? Did he want them from you? Did he want to see you to make up or to have a final talk? In the twenty-eight seconds that it takes to get to your floor, your mind plays out you greatest hopes and worst fears in a strange, overlapping loop that leaves you feeling a little lightheaded.

Though maybe that has something to do with the fact that you haven't eaten well in a month.

Your clothes don't fit right, you think as you tug at the fabric. You should have gone home to change. You were wearing your comfy clothes to go shopping. The fabric weird. Then you realize its not the fabric, its your own skin. You are so nervous that your skin feels like an electric current is running through it. With a huff you roll your shoulders, trying to settle your nerves. It doesn't help.

The doors slide open and as fast as you got into the elevator, you hesitate to get out. This could go wrong. What if his mother is there? His partner? What about Johnassen, the jerk who broke his phone so long ago?

It doesn't matter you tell yourself as you take that first step off the elevator. All that matters is he's awake. You'll be able to see him with your own eyes.

A stern looking woman with stark gray curls looks up from a desk as you approach. She tilts her head and inspects you.

“For Jakoby?” she asks like she already knows the answer. “Follow me.”

Your heart is in your ears as you follow in the steps of her worn out shoes. She swipes her badge, taking you through a set of secure double doors. The sounds of the hospital change. The ICU is bereft of human noises, but it isn't quiet. You can hear televisions on a half a dozen channels turned down low, doing what they could to preoccupy patients who were in layers of pain. The sound of breathing machines hiss and whirl. A man in green scrubs wheels supplies down the hall. There's no happy, warm chatter. Just a strange sense of desolation and pain.

You do not like it here, and you can't imagine Nick here. Nick, with his warm laugh and kindness. Nick who kisses you like the universe exists in your lips. You want to scoop him up and take him away.

The nurse stops outside of a door at the end of the hall.

“They are quarantined behind a see through partition,” she tells you in the kind of no-nonsense voice that must come from years in her work. “Do not attempt to breech this partition.”

She holds out a long medical gown. Confused, you shoved your arms into the sleeves. She spins you, and starts to tie it up, and then she puts another one on your back, spinning you again so she can tie it in the front. She hands you a cap, and a mask, and you put them both on as she helps your feet into medical grade booties.

“How dangerous is it?” You ask as she holds up a pair of gloves to slip on your hands.

“Unknown,” she tucks the end of the gloves over the wristband of the double set of gowns. “But you saw the news, you know where they were. Better safe than sorry.”

She types a number into the key pad. “You get ten minutes. No more, no less. I'm not being mean, but we need to minimize any chance of exposure.”

You nod your understanding. Ten minutes isn't much time, but you'll make the most of it.

“There are armed men in there,” she finally says. “Don't do anything to make them think you are a threat.”

It's the last bit of advice she gives you before the pad turns green and the door is opened.

The room is long, white, and empty save for what looks like a box made out of hanging plastic. Only a few of the lights are on, casting half the room in evening darkness. There are several beds, but only one of them is occupied. The long, lean body of a black male is visible beneath the harsh lighting. Three other people stand guard, dressed from head to toe, AR-15 clutched in their hands. The door closes behind you.

For a moment you stand there, frozen and unsure. A little, ugly thought makes you wonder if this is some weird trick. Then you hear your name.

Your eyes are drown to the shape of a man sitting in a chair. You hadn't noticed him at first because the dark lines of his body blend a little too easily with the pseudo darkness on that side of the room. But now that you've seen him, you can't pull your gaze away.

Nick. You'd know the shape of him anywhere. The broad, strong line of his shoulders stands guardian against the pitch black behind him. There's a blanket across his legs, and an IV in his arm.

“It's you,” he says softly, disbelieving.

“Nick.” You take one step, and then another, and before you know it your legs are carrying you across the room. You almost forget the plastic. When you foot hits it, you're startled. The guards watch you with cold glares. “Sorry.”

And once you start saying it, you can't stop. Over and over again you apologize. You don't realize you are crying until you taste the hot salt of your own tears. You are sorry you didn't call him. You are sorry you left. You are sorry you didn't answer him back. You are sorry for everything you ever did in the last six months because none of those things was going to him. You sink to your knees at the edge of the partition, the tears making it impossible to speak.

He says your name again, so soft you wonder if you dreamed it. You look up, and he's shaking his head.

“Please, don't cry.”

Slowly, unsteadily, he gets up. He doesn't look at you as he pulls the chair from one side of the plastic sheet box to the other. Right in front of you, he plops the chair down, and then lowers himself into it. His staccato motions belie how hurt he must still be.

The pair of you are silent as you look one another over. You see the bruises beneath his woad blue spots; purple and yellow and, in some places, black. You see the stitches in his arm, the thick swelling of his hands. The skin around his cheeks is slack with the lack of food he's gotten in the past month. But his eyes, those gorgeous eyes that are yellow and red and orange all at once, they are filled with pain that has nothing to do with being thrown half a football field by a magical explosion.

“You're here,” he says, his voice soft. “I thought-” He stop short, shrugging, and then wincing.

“I know,” you tell him. While you aren't sure of the exact words he must have thought, you know that it couldn't have been good.

“Why?” he asks.

You open your mouth to tell him, but the words wont come. You remember Elizabeth, his mother, and the way she had looked at you. You could tell him everything, but what good would that do? He might get angry at his mother, it might cause some kind of rift between them and how many people did Nick really have who cared that much for his safety? Not nearly enough, you think as you take in injuries you hadn't noticed before.

Instead you shrug. You can't bring yourself to lie, but you can't bring yourself to tell him the truth either, no matter how much it's burned inside of you. You turn the words that she said over in your mind, pulling an answer from them without revealing their source.

“You got hurt because you were with me.” Your voice cracks as you say it.

His eyes close and his shoulders sag. His body leans forward. You think he's about to slide out of the chair. The pair of you kneel on the floor, staring at one another. Emotions that you don't think have ever been named whirl through you. You want to touch him, you want to hold him, you want to vanish together into the night.

“No,” he said shaking his head. “No. You were just the excuse. When they saw me-” he cuts off, coughs, and shakes. “They'd already decided what they were going to do.”

He looks away. You can tell that there's more to say, that he's struggling. Rather than push you give him a moment. He deserves that at the very least.

“It wont happen again,” he says.

“Why not?”

He opens his palm, I can't see anything there, but he must because he's staring down at it like it's something special.

“I can't talk about a lot that happened that night,” he says. “I want to, I want to tell you everything but...I can't.”

You shake your head. “I just need to know you are safe.”

“I think I am. I mean-I gotta tell you, it was not a normal night. I was...I was blooded.”

Your eyes go wide. You can't help but stare at his lips. He smirks.

“It'll take a while for the tusks to grow. But I don't need to file them anymore.”

You sit back on your heels. “Are you okay with that?”

He shrugs. “I guess that depends.”

“On what?” you ask.

He takes a deep breath and looks at you. It's a long look, a scared and hopeful one. It's like he's weighing a thousand dreams as he watches you and all you can do is wait.

“I thought I was getting over you,” he finally says. “It'd been months. Long months. Really, really long months. My mom even set me up on a couple dates with some unblooded girls from other states.”

Your stomach twists.

“Yeah?” you say, hoping that he's not about to tell you that he has moved on and this whole thing was about him saying goodbye.

“They were nice, but they...they didn't understand me. They didn't like what I do. They didn't like my jokes and they all thought Alaska is stupid.” The two of you laugh and it feels so good. He shifts his position until the two of you are nearly the same height. “I wasn't falling for someone else but I was pretending really hard like I was getting over you.”

You nod, you know what he means. You'd been going through all the motions, acting like you were moving forward when all you were doing was playing the role and hoping.

“I was going to come see you,” he said. “As soon as my shift was over that night. I was going to go right to your apartment. Everyone said I shouldn't because I'd just get hurt, but I thought that it would be worth it. I just..”

Slowly he reached into the blanket still twisted around his legs. His thick, injured fingers shook with pain as he pushed the fabric around.

“Where-hold on-it's here, I swear.”

Your heart, which has already gone through far too much, pounds all over again. Your mouth goes dry.

“Nick...”

“I almost died you know,” he says as he lifts a corner, continues to look. There's a little wetness on his brow, and you wonder if it's fear, nerves, or pain that's put it there. “And not just once. I almost died like four times.”

One of the guards cleared their throats.

“I know,” Nick said, holding up his free hand. “I know. I can't tell her anything. But you only have to look at me to see that it happened.” He went still, and bowed his head. “I did die.”

It's not even a whisper, there's no sound. It's a breath of words that you are sure the guards couldn't hear. You pounding heart turns to ice in your chest.

“What?”

But he doesn't say it again. Instead he looks up at you and his eyes are bright with a hundred emotions. “And all I could think about, was you.”

He holds out his hand. Nested there is a black velvet box. Carefully, he opens it, revealing a ring. It's made of two metals, platinum and rose gold, twisted around one another to form a very simple braid, and right there at the center is a stone in the exact same shade of blue as his spots.

“All  I thought about every day has been you,” he is saying when your ears start to work again. “And I don't want to ever have to worry again.”

You swallow twice before you can speak. “Are you proposing?”

You aren't sure if he's blushing, but his ears twitch. “Only if you're saying yes.”

“You have to ask,” you say. “You have to...ask.”

“Is it a spell? A human thing?” he says.

You shrug, because it kind of is, but mostly you just need to time to stop your thoughts from making such a commotion in your head. There are a hundred ways this could go wrong, a thousand even, but even so-

He says your name and you find that he's shifted yet again, down on one knee in front of you. “Will you marry me?”

[badger-writes]

@badthingshappenbingo​

Prompt Filled: Standing Cuffs

Fandom: Star Wars

AO3 Link

His feet hurt.

Somehow, that’s the thing that bothers him most right now - above being thrown in a little cell with his arms chained up over his head, aching all over from body blows, one eye swelling almost shut, and his rental suit getting torn to tatters by manhandling thugs. No, it’s his kriffing feet that are killing him. Great priorities!

Well, he supposes it makes sense. He’s been standing on the balls of his feet for what feels like hours. A few minutes longer, and he’ll probably start to cramp up - and of course he just had to still be wearing one of these patent synthleather clown shoes, too.

Greedo trembles, and the chains around his wrists rattle. They’re thick links, heavy-duty stuff. The kind you pull out for ‘guests’ you’re not planning on letting leave - maybe ever. The thought makes him tremble again, though he tries to hide it under a grumble. 

Trying to shift the pressure from foot to foot does him no good; leaning even a little bit left or right pushes a point of sharp pain all the way back up to his wrists, like a vise around his hands. Balancing on one leg at a time is no help, either, since his muscles are already so locked up he can’t hold any other kind of position for long. The best he can manage is lifting one sole off the ground at a time and stretching out his toes as best he can - which, considering the aforementioned shoe, is only half as much as he can hope for.

When he can get enough moisture to pool in his mouth, he spits impotently into the corner of the cell, and hopes that whenever they get around to whatever they want to do to him (an Outer Rim-style execution, probably), that it at least goes quicker than how much of his life they’ve already wasted making him stand around like a Devlikk ballerina practicing their tippy-toe.

A hatch door slides open, and Boss Carpo strides through. Light from the dim, sickly glowpanel set into the ceiling catches his bald Bith head and the shoulders of his blood-red longcoat - as well as the silver talons of his mechno-hands. He’s flanked by two other Rodians whose fashion senses remind Greedo of his own. Well - when he’s not dressed up for some stupid party, anyway.

“The fugitive awakes,” one of the Rodians remarks, sneering.

“Remarkable that someone else hasn’t fried it yet,” the other adds, chuckling darkly.

Carpo holds up a hand and they fall silent. The hand reaches out, lifting Greedo’s chin on the tip of a claw.

“I suppose you have a great many questions right now,” he says coolly.

“Just one,” Greedo chokes. “‘How do I break out of here so I can start kicking your ass?’”

“How cute. I can see why your Grand Protector wants this one,” Carpo said over his shoulder. His audience snickered.

“You see, Greedo, myself and your boss, we’re two of a kind. Your Hutt, Jabba, he’s above all else a businessman. I like to think I’m something of a businessman myself. So, when these two nice gentlemen behind me, Thuku and Neesh, arrived on my Panop with a trade offer from the Rodian home government itself, I said to myself - ‘This is quite an opportunity. So what’s the catch?’

“And the catch was, of course, a simple matter of quid pro quo. Something for something. Only in this case, the something was a person, and the person happened to be one of Jabba’s thugs. It was an odd request. I mean, what was I supposed to do, snatch you off the side of the street and hope no one saw?”

“Y-you must not be very smart,” Greedo says, “if that’s the plan you went with?”

“It’s not,” Carpo replies. “Instead I bartered a few niceties away to Jabba in exchange for your life. And then I snatched you off the street.”

Something inside Greedo’s soul shrivels up. Thuku and Neesh must sense it happen, because they start laughing cruelly.

“Which is why you’re presently on my Panop,” Boss Carpo continues, trailing the tips of his claws down through the hideous ruffles pinned to Greedo’s sweat-soaked dress shirt. “Speeding down the Corellian Run bound for Rodia. Where I’ll hand you over to the tender mercies of Lord Navik the Red, who I understand has a particular bone to pick with you Tetsu Clan leftovers, and I in turn will receive a not insubstantial amount of unmarked credits to add to my coffers.”

His claws hover at Greedo’s hip - then dug in, passing clean through the shirtsilk and penetrating the flesh, dragging long, slow furrows into his prisoner’s side. Greedo winces, hissing, and tries not to humiliate himself by gasping in pain.

“A mutually… beneficial… transaction,” Carpo murmurs. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“D-don’t suppose I get any say in this,” Greedo mutters ruefully.

“I’m afraid not. Jabba certainly didn’t seem to think so, and that was after only minimal bribing.” Carpo cocks his head to one side, dark Bith eyes nictitating. “I wonder, why do people like you throw your lives away for slugs like that?”

“...Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Ah. Charming to the last.”

Carpo retrieves his claws with a viciously swift swipe, pulling them out of Greedo’s hide the hard way; he gasps finally, cringing, as droplets of his blood spattered on the floor. Adding insult to injury, the gangster then cuts the ruffles off his shirt to use for wiping his claws clean.

“Now, I could stay and while away the time with a little more one-on-one time with you, but to be honest, you don’t rate that kind of attention. And for all their charms, I don’t particularly trust these two gentlemen and their peculiar zeal alone with you, as I’ve mentioned I stand to gain a significant sum from your safe delivery, so… I suppose you’ll have to spend the rest of this flight alone. Though from what I’ve heard of your business relations, that’s nothing especially new for you, is it, Mr. Greedo?”

Carpo tosses the ruffle-rag into a corner and sweeps out of the room. Thuku and Neesh make to follow him - but then Thuku throws out a leg behind him, swiping Greedo’s aching feet out from under him, making him jerk on his chains like a marionette on its strings. The prisoner squawks in alarm, scrabbling for footing on the slick floor underneath him, whining like a trapped animal. The sound brings Thuku great pleasure; he cackles as the door slides shut behind him.

It’s the dress shoe, that one damnable shoe, that saves him. It’s got more traction than a Chandrilan nylon sock by dint of having an actual tread, and it catches on the edge of a tile, allowing him to finally sort-of climb his way back to his feet. Even so, Greedo - true to form - makes life more difficult than it has to be in order to finally free himself from its confines, hooking the toes of his free foot around its heel and slowly peeling his way out of its mouth. When he finally has both feet back on the ground, he’s even shakier than before.

But at least his foot can breathe again.

Small miracles.

[btssunnyboy]

Control - Jung Hoseok

He controlled you, but now the tables have turned.

Word Count - 1,338

Warning - Yandere themes, and you’re kinda a bitch in it 😂.

Request open! Masterlist

———————————————————————

Everyone looked at your relationship and thought he ruled. They thought he was the big bad king who ruled over the whole ordeal, but no one thought to advert their vision to the left. Right where you usually stood, beside the one you supposedly love. No one thought someone so simple, and calm would be able to control someone as boisterous as him. You could have his temper under control within a snap of your fingers, his tendencies would diminish the moment you even brought mere attention to it. You ruled him, it was a simple as that.

Hoseok stood off to the side with an uneasy expression the whole night. The champagne filled glass in his hand a lot more interesting then the idea of conversing with those around him. The only one he truly wanted time with was you. He wanted to be back at home, wrapped in your favorite blanket watching an old movie, but apparently this get to together was mandatory. He tried, in all honesty he really tried not to bother you. The thought of you being mad at him for making scene would eat him alive, so he forced his words back down his throat and stayed silent. He just wanted you to be happy with him.

You forced out another smile as yet another person questioned the man in the corner. Hoseok, still stood uneasy once more before you finally gave him a glance. Those bright eyes shot open, and suddenly a sunshine like aura radiated off of him. You finally had your attention on him! For the first time this whole night you’re paying attention to him , and him only, but the moment was short lived as soon as turn your attention back to the conversation that was happening in front of you. His nails tapped against the glass with small knocking sounds emitting from it, and the sound was slowly growing more annoying every minute that he had to do it.

His shoes clicked against the marble floor, as he made his way towards the gorgeous women on the other side of the room. The colleagues in front of you adverting their eyes to the figure coming up behind you, and you internally groaned. The last thing you wanted right now was for him to be clingy. His arm wrapped around your body with a slight gripped, and you could feel him bundle up the material of your dress in his clutched fist. You knew you were gonna get a mouth full, and from the looks of the women they knew something was coming as well. Before you could even explain the situation they bid a brief goodbye, and said they understand that sometimes couples just want to be with one another. Oh god, that was the last thing you wanted.

“Hi, baby.”Hoseok cooed, running a finger along the side of your face. His bright smile that was once taking his whole face up, fell when he noticed the look in your eyes. His rough hand was immediately retracted back to his side, and he kept his hand to his side as he waited for you to speak what was on your mind. “I’m sorry, baby.”

A scoff sprout from your mouth without a second thought. Your arms were crossed, and one of your eyebrows were raised. The rules for tonight were simple, unless you approach him it was best to keep contact minimal. You has clients here, bosses you needed to impress, and the absolute last thing you needed was man following you around like a lost puppy. You brought your hands up in a prayer like position to your nose,and huffed heavily. “Hoseok, honey, do you realize who those women were?”

He placed his hands behind his back, while he fiddled with the glass once more. You took his deadly silence as his answer. “No, I’m sorry, I don’t know who they were.”

“Saying sorry doesn’t fix things, and you know this! I needed that business deal, and here you are messing things up like usual. Those women were the CEO’S of BlackPink corporations and I was mere sentences away from finally striking a deal.” You ran a hand through your hair, before checking your watch. It was half past eleven, and you could already see people bidding more goodbyes, and turning back to the front door. You hiked up the ends of your dress, and made a b-line to the nearby table to grab the purse you had left. You watched Hoseok’s eyes stay on you the whole time, before they landed on the black, satin bag that was snug in your hands.

His heart grew fond when he remember that was the bag he got for your birthday last month. He thought you hated it, but now he’s over the moon at this simple little thing. He quickly sat down his glass, and when he noticed your empty hand he immediately reacted. Intertwining your small fingers with his large ones, and surprisingly you didn’t pull away. You hand stayed in his for the short walk to the car, before you abruptly yanked it away and got into the passenger side.

You didn’t miss a beat as you tugged at the clips that were placed in your hair. Trying to smooth the bumps before a headache made it’s appearance as well. You could feel the guilt swelling up inside of your stomach, as you watched him keep his eyes on the road. It’s just you needed that deal more then anything, and you would’ve been ecstatic to have him by your side, but sometimes he’s just too much to handle. You sighed as you remember why you started acting like this, it all started off when you and Hoseok were together for a few months, if you even looked at a guy he’d be on your ass in a minute, asking question after question.

You grew so tired of that, you became so fed up with these chaotic like tendencies. That you knew if rules did not get set up soon, this relationship would have a major down fall. To be honest, you did love him, you just did not love the way he treated you like a object. Thinking that he deserved to know every little detail about what goes on in your life, he deserved information, but to an extent. When the final line was crossed, that being him showing up at bar you went to with a couple of friends. You forced him to set boundaries.

Hell, you threatened to leave the first time, but you knew that leaving him would tear you up just as much as it would him. So you made rules, and he was not okay with it at the start. You had to get it through his head, that it was either stick to the rules or you’re gone. And he almost broke down the moment you said you were gonna leave for another man. Through cascading tears, and a cracked voice he spoke that he would change. He did, surprisingly, and now you held all the cards to this relationship. And to be honey it was absolutely amazing.

“Look it’s almost twelve thirty now, how about when we get home we finish that movie we were trying to watch the other night?” You suggested, while taking him fingers back into your hands and gently rubbing your thumbs along him. A sunshine,bright, smile perked you up when you noticed it.

“I would love that, I’ll even cook us a small meal, considering you barely ate at the party, and the last thing I want is my princess being hungry. I love you.”

And just like that he was putty in your hand once more. Not a single back talking word left his mouth, just pure admiration. Ever since that day, you knew he’d do anything to keep you happy. A happy lover,means a happy life. “I know, and I love you too, baby.”

[eyesfixedonthesun22]

Ruin Me

Summary: How do you get your Captain’s attention? Act up..like the little brat that you are. Pairing: Steve x Female Reader Warning(s): 100% pure, grade A smut with minimal plot, 18+, mild degradation, dom!Steve, butt stuff ;) Word Count: 2,259 Beta Reader: My darling honey bun, @supersoldiersruined-me Notes: This is my entry to @moonbeambucky’s 5K writing challenge. My prompt was “ruin me” and it’s bolded. Thank you so much for hosting this, Tara!

The two of you had danced around these emotions and lust filled looks long enough to annoy nearly everyone on the team. Now that you’re a whining needy mess, taken apart underneeth the heft of his body, you could kill yourself for waiting so long. Who would have thought it was an offhand comment and a spilled bit of water that broke the camel's back?

Steve had flung you over his shoulder in near rage and stalked away from the party. He hadn’t gone down to the residential floors in the tower, instead choosing the small pool shed. It was only a handful of paces away, but by far the most private thing on the rooftop deck. You’d begged him to reconsider. You knew damn well the walls were thin and everyone could hear. All worries flew out the window sometime after the second pulsing orgasm Steve pulled from your core; his lips buried deep in your dampness.

He flips you over, back arched against his unyielding chest. The warmth of his skin against your back adds to the heated fire dancing across your skin. Your chest is pressed against the door of the shed. If you crane your neck, you can see the rest of your teammates gathered around the pool.

Steve presses and kneads the flesh of your ass with each grind of his hips. You’re livid he’s got you soaked and doe-legged and he hasn’t taken off a scrap of clothing. You’re well past coherent sentences. You attempt to turn to undo his swim shorts but he presses you roughly back against the door, caging you in with his arms around you. The slap he delivers to the exposed skin stings. You’re certain the mark will last well into tomorrow.

“You have been such a goddamn brat for weeks now,” he huffed before spanking the other cheek so they both burn equally.

You truly had.

Sitting in Steve's lap during movie nights while squirming just the right amount until you felt his cock twitch and grow below you; then you went off to your room chipper as can be. The last mission you’d been on, you had squeezed yourself into the same broom closet as your Captain. Your hand wandered south, tracing the lines of his stealth suit while he tried to do his reconnaissance. Two days ago in the gym, you’d accidentally gotten cleaned up in the men's locker room. Steve walked out of the shower to you slathering yourself in lotion with your legs spread obscenely wide.

He’d tried to hold out; knowing full well he, as your Captain and you the subordinate, shouldn’t consider a tenth of the filth which was a constant scroll line in his head. You couldn’t find it in you to give a fuck. Worst case scenario you got to see Steve blushing and flustered. Best case- he’d crack and show you the side he’d only shown glimpses of.

You knew he was rough and dominant in bed. A couple drinking games with Asgardian mead had Natasha and you pressing him for answers. That night he let slip he’s not interested in anyone from the team for professional reasons. But he was struggling to find someone who could handle his unorthodox needs in bed.

“Being dominant is fun when you know all you’ll leave is bruises instead of broken arms”. he’d said.

With your arms pinned in an uncomfortable angle behind your back you now understood why. If it wasn’t for your similarly reinforced anatomy and superstrength, Steve would have already split you in half. It was thrilling to know he probably still could despite your enhanced abilities.

Tonight had gone similar to so many other team get togethers. Joking, teasing, food and drinks. Things had taken a turn when Sam had mentioned he had seen on the news there was an Avengers themed wet t-shirt contest to be held this weekend.

“Yeah, legal asked me if I had any interest in shutting it down. But I figured it’s a public service...in its own way.” Tony chimed in, pairing his words with his signature eyebrow waggle.

“You’re disgusting.” Natasha joked.

“Thoughts, Cap?” Sam prompted. “The girl who’s wearing your t-shirt looks like she could easily take home the prize. If you know what I mean.”

“What’s a wet t-shirt contest?”

Sam and Tony quickly explained the concept. Steve had still looked moderately perplexed. “I still don't get the objective.”

“Here Stevie. It’s like this” You grabbed a pitcher of ice water from the picnic table. “Pretend I’m a contestant.”

You dump the ice cold water across your white shirt in slow, chilling rivulets. You can feel your nipples pebbling from how brazen you were being. The lack of a bra certainly didn’t help the matter. The entire pitcher of water had reduced your top to a thin, transparent, gauze-like  imitation of the garment. Each swell and curve of your skin below was on display to your Captain and teammates.

“Would you vote for me?” You brave a glance up to his face, eyelids fluttering. His eyes are hard and cold. His jaw is set and ticks with each passing second. You lay on another thick layer of sweetness. “Does this turn you on enough for me to win?”

Someone in the background whistles low. Steve’s chest heaves with a calculated deep breath.

“Maybe I’ll ask Sam and Bucky what they think.”

Before you can act, Steve had thrown you over his shoulder. He set you down on the floor of the pool shed roughly.

“What the hell was that?”

You contemplate the truth but decide to keep up the game. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, Captain. Just a bit of fun.”

The sound that erupts from his chest would be closer to an animalistic growl than any human sound. He backs you up against the small sink in the shed. His large hand cups you between your legs.

“Just a bit of fun?” He mocks. “So if I check right now, you wouldn’t be wet?”

It’s as much of an exciting promise as it is him asking for your consent.

“Why don’t you get down there and see for yourself.”

He’d pulled the first orgasm from you with his thick fingers and the other two with his mouth latched onto your core. Had anyone walked in, they would have seen your legs spread wide and Steve’s golden locks nestled in the middle, lapping you up like a man possessed.

You’d thought that would be the end of it. Steve had clearly proven his point. You’d been a teasing brat and he’d thoroughly punished you with each shuttering release gushing against his mouth. But he was far from done with you. Pressed against the door, your muscles strain. If he hadn’t been holding you up and bracing your arms you’re certain you’d fall to the floor.

“Have you learned your lesson, little one?

Words fail you. All you can manage are pathetic whimpers while he ghosts his lips along your neck. He nudges your legs apart roughly with a kick from his feet.

“Or should I help the message sink in? That is, if you can handle it?”

Something jogs in your brain. His question was one to which an answer was mandatory if this is to proceed further. Even when he’s taking you apart in such a rough, sensual way he finds a way to be a gentleman and check in with you.

“Ruin me, Captain.”

You’re surprised at the clarity in your words but it's nevertheless exactly what Steve needed to hear. He rips his bottoms off and runs his length against your wetness. Your bodies are nestled like spoons; curves meeting curves while he slides and ruts against your sensitive slick.

The buildup of months of teasing and foreplay has you drenched. You hear the sounds of your wet skin against his. It should be embarrassing. What little dignity you had has been thrown out the window. You never wanted this feeling to stop.

Steve’s drenched his cock in your wetness and stops. A pathetic whimper bubbles up from your throat but is choked off by a press of his cockhead against your opening. It’s not where you expect it to be. He stills.

“You thought your wet tits were what pushed me over the edge, huh? Little did you know, your Captain has always been more of an ass man.”

Your core clenches at the thought. It feels left out knowing what he’s asking. Instead answering him directly, you push your hips back against his ever so slightly. The soft head of his cock slips into your tight ring.

“You stretch me so good, Captain.” You attempt to push back further but his strong hands prevent you.

“You like feeling my cock in your tight asshole; knowing our friends are just outside this door?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“I thought so. You seem to be enjoying this a bit too much for someone who was being a little brat.” You mentally slap yourself. “I’m not so sure you deserve this.”

Without warning, his fingers are on your core again. He draws slow lazy circles around your clit never touching you exactly where you need. The overstimulation from his previous actions have you ringing like a tuning fork. Every so often, the circles stop and he swipes up the center of your lips; giving your your clit the friction it needs. Your core flutters and clenches and his cock slips a tiny bit further into you.

That’s how he tortures you. You aren’t sure how long it’s been since your wet t-shirt ploy. Minutes or hours. It doesn’t matter. The only thing you can think about is the pulsing need coming from your cunt and the dizzyingly slow stretch of Steve’s cock in your ass.

Bit by bit he enters your. His level of control is impressive and infuriating. One hand plays in your wetness with expertise and the other doing it’s job of locking your hips into place. You’re his. Completely.

“Steve,” you pant. It’s the only word that’s broken through the chorus of curses and pleads. “Steve!”

The second one has more urgency. He’s edged you so painfully close to your release only to move his hands off your sensitive clit and back to your surrounding wetness. This time though, his fingers press heavier pressure against the nub.

“Are you sorry?”

“Yes Steve!”

You gulp air but the moaning has your throat parched.

“I’m sorry! I need to cum.”

“Sorry for what?”

He growls the words into the shell of your ear. If it wasn’t shameful enough that you’re putty in his hands simply with his fingers and his stiff cock only halfway in your ass, the fact he’s forcing you to speak now was too much.

“You know why.” The pads of his fingers press harder against you.

“Say it.”

You’ve never heard his voice this low. A fresh gush of wetness floods his fingers.

“Say it now. Or I’ll walk out of here; leaving you gaping and needy.”

“I’m sorry for being a tease.”

“You must have forgotten who you’re talking to, little one,” he tutts.

His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips. You can feel the smirk of his lips against your skin.

He’s pushing your resolve further than you thought possible.

“I’m sorry for being a tease, Captain.”

“There you go, little one.” With a kiss far to gentle for the mood, he praises you. “That wasn’t so hard was it?”

You whimper and twitch as his hand still works it’s unyielding rhythm against you. His cock stands in stark contrast as it’s never made a full thrust inside you.

“Let’s get you to cum, little one.”

He kisses your neck once and presses two of his thick digits into your cunt. The hand on your hips pulls you flush to him and seats the full length of him inside you. The jump from being teased to long to being fully filled nearly has your legs give out.

“How does it feel to be so full, little one? You like my cock inside you?”

They’re questions he can’t possibly expect you to answer unless it’s with moans. His fingers massage steady pressure against the spot you need him most inside you. He’s still unmoving inside your ass. His voice is strained and his breathing seems to quicken. Both of your holes flutter and clench around him.

“Cum, sweetheart. I wanna feel you.”

A damn breaks inside you and tingles erupt across your skin. Warmth radiates from your core outwards as your orgams rocks through you with an intensity you couldn’t have expected. When the first wave calms, you feel Steve’s warmth flood you from behind. The aftershocks of your release have you twitch and clench around him. He’s filled you so deeply there’s nowhere for it to go. It drips like honey down your thighs.

It’s a long while before either of you move. When you’re disentangled, he turns you to face him. You’re ready for him to brush this away. After all, you know he’s your superior officer. He places a palm on each side of your face. The gentle press of his lips on your forehead first, then your nose, and finally your lips has you surprised.

“For the record, I love it when you’re a brat.” You smile and meet his lips once more, savoring the taste of him.

“Maybe I’ll act up again sometime.”

“I’d like that, sweetheart.”

[gumnut-logic]

We’ll Be Home For Christmas 5.1

Title: We’ll be home for Christmas

Day Five – Here on Tracy Island – Part 1 Prologue | 1.1 | 1.2 | 2.1 | 2.2 | 2.3 | 3.1 | 3.2 | 3.3 | 3.4 | 3.5 | 4.1 | 4.2 | 4.3 | 4.4 | 4.5 | 4.6 | 5.1

Author: Gumnut

20 Jun 2020

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: The boys can’t fly home for Christmas, so they have to find another way.

Word count: 3313

Spoilers & warnings: language and so, so much fluff. Science!Gordon. Artist!Virgil, Minor various ships, mostly background.

Timeline: Christmas Season 3, I have also kinda ignored the main storyline of Season 3. The boys needed a break, so I gave them one. Post season 3B, before Season 3C cos I started this fic before we saw it.

Author’s note: For @scattergraph​​​​​. This is my 2019 TAG Secret Santa fic :D

No, I haven’t forgotten about this fic, and yes, it hit the six month mark about two weeks ago. I started writing this 8 Dec 2019. I’m nearly there.

Landmark, though. It is now officially my longest Thunderbirds fic, overtaking Gentle Rain today at around 60,000 words, depending on which word processing program it is sitting in. Never expected it to be this long.

This chapter pretty much wrote itself. It is almost like a role call of the five brothers and their states of mind. So a little bit of all the bros in this. I hope you enjoy.

Many thanks to @i-am-chidorixblossom​​​ @scribbles97​​​​​ and @onereyofstarlight​​​​​ for reading through various bits, fielding my many wibblies, and for all their wonderful support.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

Day Five: Here on Tracy Island

Virgil woke late the next morning. It was a pleasant awakening, slipping from deep sleep to doze to a peaceful warmth beneath the covers. His room was dark. Darker than his cabin on A Little Lightning and with decidedly less sway.

He lay there for a while, enjoying the lack of need to get up and do anything and the absence of pain. He had slept the sleep of the dead and was thoroughly rested. There was something to be said about sleeping in your own bed at home that no holiday anywhere could provide.

But honestly, he wasn’t one to sit and do nothing for long, his brain kicking into gear while he lay there, listing off things waiting to be done. A visit to Two to reassure himself she had been checked over and was ready should she be needed. Not that he didn’t trust his family, it was just for his own peace of mind.

He should be able to get away with it so long as he didn’t spend too much time down there.

It took him a full half an hour of random rumination to realise that it was Christmas Day.

Oh shit.

The clock said eleven am.

His family...

He sat up abruptly and was thoroughly reminded of how stupid such a move was.

Oh, for the love of...

He grunted and rolled over until his face was smothered in his pillow.

The medic in his brain listed off the reasons why he shouldn’t have done that and why he needed to be careful and, goddamnit, he was sick of this. It was only an appendix, for crying out loud.

Stupid surgery.

That could have been so much worse.

He was being a spoilt child.

He let out a breath into his pillow, its warmth wrapping around his face. Another week and he would be fine.

But now, it was eleven oh five on Christmas morning and he was holding his family up.

He clambered out of bed with minimal complaint from his body, into the shower, a shave and into his familiar red flannel, jeans and boots.

It was such a comfort to be home.

He blow-dried his hair, gelled it up and made himself presentable.

The man who stared at him from his bathroom mirror was one appendix less and a whole pile of experience more.

He hummed to himself, tasting the notes in his throat. He could feel the soft whale skin under his fingertips, hear the lap of the water, the breeze in his hair...

And the music.

His eyes were closed without permission, the imagery taking over his mind. His fingers tapped against the bathroom vanity marking out the beat and rhythm of what he was trying to say, the pictures warping into abstract and lack of understanding.

Salty and long spoken, the notes repeated.

He didn’t know how long he stood there under the bathroom light, eyes seeing another world somewhere below the ocean surface.

By the time he shook off the haze it was eleven forty-five.

Almost lunchtime.

Alan would be foaming at the bit.

He pushed himself away from the sink and killed the light. Walking carefully across his room, he shook himself, rolling his shoulders. Get it together, Virgil. Your family is waiting for you.

Out through the door, down the corridor and, screw the stairs, he was taking the elevator.

It swallowed him whole.

-o-o-o-

Gordon had been up since before the sun. It was a sign that he was home. A session in the pool brought familiarity into the equation. There was definitely a difference between swimming in the pool versus the ocean and it had nothing to do with water salinity.

The ocean was beautiful and he adored it. But the pool sported no threat, no need to monitor his surroundings beyond the presence of a mischievous brother or two, leaving him to be able to focus on his stroke and let his mind wander.

The pleasant warmth of well used muscles pulling him forward through the water, simple thought processing...and considering the last few days, there were a lot of thoughts awaiting examination.

Some he had managed while piloting A Little Lightning on the home stretch, but there were still more needing answers and tactical decisions.

Sam. Mel. Scott. John. Virgil.

As far as he knew, Scott was still planning on inviting the neighbours over today. That would place Sam within reach of the apparently resistant Virgil.

He understood where both men were coming from. Virgil needed time and Sam was just a ball of eager energy.

Gordon was stuck between the two.

Push came to shove, he would side with Virgil regardless. He had too. But he really didn’t want to be divisive. If Virgil would talk just a little, it would help not only Sam and himself, but it might assuage the ball of worried energy that was Scott.

His arms sliced through water until he reached the end of the lane, his body automatically flipping and turning into the push off surge in the opposite direction. Air, splash and his hands slicing through the water again.

Okay, he would admit that he was worried himself. At first it was just amazing. His brother could sing to whales! A breakthrough. But yesterday he witnessed exactly how spaced Virgil became when singing and everything screamed wary. Humpback whales were beautiful creatures, but so big and so possibly unintentionally dangerous.

He couldn’t let Virgil anywhere near a whale alone. It just wasn’t safe. There was so much they didn’t know and the urge to protect his gentle brother just swelled in his heart.

They needed to investigate further. Find out exactly what was going on. Make sure his brother was safe. That it didn’t affect any water rescues.

They couldn’t afford to have Virgil spacing out in the ocean at random. As it was, Gordon wasn’t going to let Virgil anywhere near the ocean during rescues for the foreseeable future. He could stay up in Two.

Safe.

Whale song could travel around the globe.

His native realm had become a hazard for his big brother and that was unacceptable.

They had to find out what was going on.

John and Eos had made a good start, but Sam and himself needed to investigate further and soon.

Virgil needed to cooperate for his own safety.

Gordon broke his stroke, pushed himself to the side of the pool and rested his head on the concrete a moment, letting his body float randomly.

Blood pumped through his ears, his heart still running at exercise rate.

He needed to convince Virgil.

Somehow.

-o-o-o-

Scott revelled in the early dawn light. His feet pounded on his wonderfully familiar route around the Island. A trek he hadn’t laid eyes on for a week.

His runners crunched volcanic gravel beneath them.

The sun was just rising on Christmas Day, the beautiful weather hanging strong, the sea a stretch of glass disappearing off into the horizon. His current trajectory pointed him directly south where he knew beyond the glass lay Raoul Island. A single spot in a sea of blue, so similar to the even tinier spot that was Tracy Island.

Same sea of blue.

A pokey tree appeared on the side of the track, its red flowers quite glorious in the morning sun, and he found himself grinning. Sure, he knew the correct name of the pōhutukawa tree, but Alan’s name was so much easier to pronounce and it made Mel laugh.

His legs took the strain as he jogged up the rapidly steepening trail.

If he was honest with himself, the whole no strings attached thing was a lie. He found himself thinking about the woman more the longer they were away from Raoul.

And they only left yesterday.

As soon as the sun was high enough in the sky to be polite, he would be contacting Raoul with his invitation to her, Sam and Liam. It wasn’t the only time he had invited people to the Island, they weren’t entirely hermits, but it was rare and the first time in a long time.

And he was so looking forward to it.

Penny and Parker were due after breakfast as was the tradition. As soon as everyone was awake, they would have their present opening party, always a major family event. More for the company and laughter than the presents themselves.

He could almost hear Gordon declaring it ‘Tracy style’ complete with the arm movements to compliment the claim.

But Mel...it was like he was excited to show her the Island, perhaps because he knew she would be very interested in the ecosystem that had developed here since their father had begun repairing it over a decade ago.

And he was staring at it right now as he followed the path around the back of the Island. Pokey trees, palms and ferns were everywhere a foothold was available. Scott knew very little about their ecosystem beyond the need to keep it safe. Gordon and Virgil were the ones who knew most about it among the brothers. Gordon focussed on the sea and Virgil sometimes helped out with animal numbers and photography for the scientific group.

But Mel hadn’t been here since Dad...

He grunted and hurdled a rock he hurdled every morning as the slope inverted and started heading down. The view was stunning.

Despite the glass of the ocean, the swell still crashed on the back cliffs of the Island, jagged volcanic rock resistant to the relentless pounding.

Hopefully she would consent to the visit even though it was late notice.

He did have a Thunderbird, after all.

-o-o-o-

John hadn’t slept much. He never did when something was on his mind. His everything drove him to find a solution, particularly when a brother was involved.

Eos never slept, so she was the perfect insomnia companion.

There was also the factor that he was home, but he really wasn’t.

He was missing Five.

Now he was back on the Island, everything was screaming at him to go home.

Not that he didn’t like the Island, quite the opposite. The Island contained his brothers, his grandmother, Kayo, his family and he adored his family.

But the stars were calling to him. His body ached to feel the release from gravity. He wanted his home.

He ignored it.

His body needed gravity. It was an undeniable fact. It had evolved under the pressure exerted by the planet and while his mind adored the stars and the lack of gravity, nature demanded its return under the ‘use it or lose it’ mandate of life on Earth.

So, tired, but awake anyway as the sun hit the front of the villa, John made his way down to the pool where he found Gordon, as expected, in the water, but unexpectedly, not swimming. His head was lying on one arm at the edge of the pool, his body floating lazily behind.

John dropped his towel on a lounger and, bare footed to the edge next to his brother. Folding himself into a seated position he dropped his feet to dangle in the cool water.

“Gordon?”

“Hmm?” His head rose a little blearily. “Oh, John, hey.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“Huh? What, oh, Merry Christmas, John.”

A frown. “You okay?”

Gordon flexed his shoulders. “Yeah, just thinking.”

“Virgil?”

“Yeah.”

John sighed. “Same. But you do know he’s okay?”

“Yeah, just thinking it through.”

John pushed himself into the water and couldn’t help a relieved sigh as the water took away so many of the effects of gravity, cradling his body. “Swim with me?”

Brown eyes turned to him and John saw a reflection of his own worry in their depths. “Sure.” Gordon pushed off from the edge, his movements graceful despite his distraction.

John moved to the lane next to Gordon’s preferred and lined up beside his fish brother. Gordon shot him a brief but grateful smile before pushing off the end in a careless surge into stroke. He was metres ahead before John had even shifted into form.

Typical.

Show off.

But he couldn’t help but smile as he pushed off the edge himself, automatically moving into a strong but leisurely stroke in warm up.

Swimming denied verbal communication, but it wasn’t needed, the two of them just keeping each other company.

By the fifth lap, John started pushing himself, putting his body through the exercise needed to keep it healthy. He had no delusions of keeping up with Gordon. He just paced himself as his body needed it. Twenty laps in, he eased up a little and checked on his brother.

Gordon was still going. John brought himself to a halt, treading water, muscles pleasantly buzzing.

“Hey, John.” The astronaut startled, turning in place to find Scott standing on the edge of the pool. His running gear appeared well used, sweat stains prominent, and he was still breathing heavily. “Just letting you know that I’m going to be taking One out in about half an hour.”

“You going to get Mel and Sam?” Gordon was suddenly beside him. It was a sign of how tired John actually was that his younger brother startled him almost as much as Scott had a moment earlier.

“Yeah.”

“Can I come with?”

“Don’t you want to be here for when Penny arrives?”

John arched an eyebrow in Gordon’s direction. The fish had been looking forward to Christmas for that very reason. Before Virgil’s illness, it had been Penelope this, Penelope that. Apparently, he had the ‘best’ gift lined up for their first Christmas as a couple. Whether or not that was still going ahead considering recent events, John had no idea. Gordon hadn’t mentioned it since Virgil fell ill.

“I thought you had the fastest plane on the planet, Scotty.”

Their eldest brother snorted. “Plane, yes, younger brother, no.”

“Hey, I can be fast.” A strawberry blond frown. “Regardless, I need to speak to Sam.”

Scott eyed him a moment. “Virgil?”

Gordon sighed. “Yeah, Virgil. Gotta handle this delicately.”

Scott’s lips thinned. “Okay, then you better be ready in thirty because that’s when I’m leaving.”

The fish was already climbing out of the pool. Wet footprints marked the concrete as he strode to his towel.

Blue eyes turned to John. “You okay? You look tired.”

John let water run through his fingers. “I am, but I’ll live.”

Voice quiet. “Virgil?”

A single nod, voice equally quiet. “Virgil. Eos, Gordon and I will work it out. We just need time.” And patience. Admittedly, he didn’t have much of that where his brothers’ health was concerned. He could fake it, but it didn’t mean he felt it.

Scott’s expression was thoughtful. “I know you will do your best. Don’t forget to look after yourself.”

A groan. This was why Virgil was always adamant that he was fine. I single hint of something wrong and their biggest brother was all over them, his concern obvious. “I’m fine, Scott.”

That earned him a grunt and John actually struggled not to smile at his brother’s exasperation. John swam to the pool edge and pushed himself out of the water. A wave in the direction of the rising sun’s reflection. “The pool is all yours, dear brother.”

Scott eyed him. “Thank you.”

The morning breeze cooled John enough to raise goose pimples on his arms. Before he could reach for his towel, Scott was handing it to him.

Ever the big brother. It was John’s turn to eye him back. “Thank you.”

Scott smiled at him, a definite smirk on those lips. He knew exactly what John was thinking and had likely done it on purpose. “Anytime.”

Hmmm. “Merry Christmas, Scott.”

Those blue eyes widened as his big brother obviously realised that despite all the preparations underway, despite the tree they had stacked with presents the night before, he had still managed to forget the significance of the day.

It was John’s turn to smirk.

But Scott recovered quickly, tilting his head, a small smile on his lips. “Merry Christmas, John.”

With that he turned and headed off into the house.

-o-o-o-

Alan loved to sleep in. He shared this love with his second eldest brother. Getting up early sucked big time and he had no coffee addiction to help him.

But there was one day of the year when you could witness the youngest Tracy out of bed, while not early, at least a decent time where breakfast could still be called breakfast and not lunch or even brunch.

Christmas Day.

Alan adored the day. Presents, food and family, what more could a guy ask for?

So, eight am found him stumbling down the stairs to the kitchen in search of the second and third items on the list. He found Grandma at the kitchen table eating her fruit and yoghurt.

Alan made no effort to be quiet, but she didn’t appear to realise he was there, staring out across the lagoon. “Grandma?”

She dropped her spoon with a clatter as it hit the bowl. “Alan!” She clutched her hand to her chest, gasping. “You frightened me. Gave my old heart a kick in the pants.”

“Sorry, Grandma. Are you okay?”

“This time. Though I wouldn’t recommend doing it too often.” She held out an arm. “C’mere and give me a Christmas hug.”

Now that was something he was quite happy to do. Grandma hugs were always appreciated. “Merry Christmas, Grandma.” He held her tight.

“Merry Christmas, honey. Are you hungry?”

Uh, that was always a loaded question and there were important indicators related to that. “Where is everyone?” He had expected to find at least John down here. His space brother would eat his breakfast staring out into the lagoon and follow it with work on his tablet just to be around family in his own way. But not today.

“Scott and Gordon have gone to Raoul to collect Ms Fisher and that scientist friend of Gordon’s.”

“Sam?”

“I guess. They were both in quite a hurry to leave.”

That set Alan grinning. “I think Scott likes Mel.”

An arched eyebrow. “I thought she liked Virgil.”

A snort accompanied the grin. “I don’t think she is Virgil’s kind of girl.”

Of course, that was the very moment Kayo decided to enter the kitchen. She had obviously been on a run, dressed in shorts and a high cut top.

“Who’s Virgil’s kind of girl?”

Alan’s eyes widened. “Um.”

Green narrowed at him. “What are you up to, Alan?”

“Nothing!” He held out his hands. “What did I do?”

“I’m more concerned with what you are going to do.”

“Suspicious, much? I’m going to eat breakfast, that’s what.”

She continued to eye him. “No practical jokes today.”

“I wasn’t planning on it. Gee, you’d think I was Gordy or something.”

“Gordon will be contained by Lady Penelope. You, however, are not.”

“And what? That makes me some kind of prank genius?”

“Genius, no, annoyance, yes.”

“Hey, Merry Christmas, Kayo. How about a little of the spirit?”

She glared and him and grunted before turning away and stalking off.

“What’s up her skirt?”

“Alan!”

“Well, you saw her. I didn’t do anything!”

Grandma was quiet a moment. “She has things on her mind.”

“When doesn’t she?”

“Let her be.”

“I didn’t do anything!”

Grandma sighed. “Things will work themselves out for the best.”

Alan stared at his grandmother. What on Earth was going on? Did everyone know something that he didn’t. He sighed. Wouldn’t be the first time. “I’m going grab some breakfast.”

“Yes, dear.” And Grandma was staring out at the lagoon again.

What the-?

Alan grabbed the refrigerator door and flung it open, his eyes raking its contents. Perhaps food would fix things.

A glance at Grandma found that she hadn’t moved.

There was definitely something going on.

-o-o-o-

End Day 5 Part 1

[apharine]

Sightseeing

Chapter 3

Pairing:  Siane x Nanu

Fandom: Pokemon

Rating:  T

Read on AO3

Chapter 1 on Tumblr  |  Chapter 2 on Tumblr

My writing commission info!

Summary:   Siane hadn't meant to wind up in Alola, under Nanu's care, while she recovered from a mysterious illness that left her prone to weakness and collapsing. But now that she's here and getting stronger, she wants to see more of Ula'ula than just the rainy skies and the Po Town wall by Nanu's police station. And who could be better suited to give her a tour than the Kahuna of the island himself?

Notes:  Siane is the wonderful HybridDragoness’ OC, you can find her art of Siane here!  You can also find Hybrid on Twitter and AO3 under the same handle as on Tumblr!  For anyone who hasn’t seen yet, Hybrid has done some amazing art of a scene of her commission here!

                                     _________________________

“So, observatory next?”  Siane asks, once again dipping her feet in the water.

“Hmm,” Nanu hums, checking his watch.  The day is ticking by surprisingly fast, and he wants her to see Ula’ula Meadow more than anything else, at this point.  “Depends on how fast we can get back to the bus stop.  Buses leave for Mount Hokulani every 30 minutes, usually, so…”

“Okay,” Siane agrees, pulling her feet out and picking up the remains of their lunch.  She stuffs all the trash into one of the brown bags and goes to pull her shoes back on.

“There should be a trash can right over there.  I’ll be right back,” Nanu says, grabbing the brown bag and standing.  He’s right; the trash can is still just around the corner, and he drops their garbage in, moseying back to Siane and trying to mull through his thoughts a little.

To his surprise, Siane’s up on her feet and walking to meet him.

“If we’ve gotta make it to the bus stop for the half hour, we’ve gotta hurry, Nanu!”  She exclaims, a smile breaking across her features.  “C’mon -”

And then Nanu’s heart stops as her legs give out under her and she drops.

He’s close enough to her that he can rush forward and catch her before she hits the ground.  She falls mostly onto his shoulder, and his hands support her around her waist.  If he weren’t wearing pants, he’d probably have skinned his knees diving for her; as it is all he has is a little bit of fabric burn.

“Siane!”  Nanu shouts, gathering the girl up in his arms.  He rearranges her slumped form so that he’s almost holding her princess-style.  To his relief, she stirs in his arms.

“I went down, huh?”  She asks, blinking blearily up at him.

“Yeah,” Nanu says, pressing one hand to her forehead.  She’s a little warm, but nothing bad, and he can’t help but cradle her a little closer to his body with his other arm.  “You okay?”

“More or less,” she admits.  She always seems a little shaken after collapsing, but who can blame her?  Nanu figures he would be, too.  “Mostly thanks to you.  Thanks for catching me.”

“Of course,” Nanu returns, and though he tries to make his voice surly, it just comes across as soft.  “I’ll always try to catch you.”

Siane blinks at this admission, then sits up, using Nanu’s shoulders for a little bit of support.

“Well,” she smiles.  “Guess that makes you my hero in more ways than one.  Now c’mon - help me stand up.”

Nanu obliges in silence, pulling the young woman to her feet easily.

What did “my hero in more ways than one” mean?  Did she already consider him her hero?

The thought makes his chest swell with the same sense of pride he’d felt upon imagining showing Siane the island he loved.

“Let’s skip the observatory today,” Nanu says, letting go of Siane, though he lingers closer than ever before - just in case.  “You’re getting more worn down from all of this than you’d like to admit.”  Siane goes to open her mouth, but Nanu continues, not letting her get a word in edgewise.  “Besides - I really want to show you the Ula’ula Meadow today.  You’ll like that more than the observatory, anyway.”

“Yeah?”  Siane asks, apparently somewhat mollified.

“Yeah.  There’s not much to the observatory during the day, anyway.  I’ll take you at night sometime.”

Siane smiles and starts to walk; she’s a little unsteady on her feet, so Nanu continues to linger close.

“Is that a promise?”  She asks coyly.  Nanu snorts, a lopsided smirk pulling at his lips.

“Yeah, Siane.  I promise,” he returns, and he wonders why, exactly, it feels like he’s just gotten a pretty young thing to agree to a future date with him.

 “You seemed more excited about the Ride Charizard than you were about the Ride Tauros,” Nanu observes, quirking one eyebrow at Siane as they walk together, approaching Ula’Ula Meadow.  He’d been hesitant to put her back on a Charizard again now that she’d dropped once today.  At least on a Tauros, the fall would be relatively minimal, and the Pokemon could be urged to walk slowly under the guise of observing the scenery.

“The Ride Tauros was good, too,” Siane says mildly.  “And he was great at his job!  Very mellow and soothing to ride.  It’s just…”  Siane trails off for a moment, a smile playing across her lips.  “It doesn’t get better than flying, you know?”

Nanu hums in acknowledgement, feeling his lips tug up into a smile in return.

“You’re sure you’re feeling up to walking through the Meadow?”  He asks after a beat, holding a tree branch out of the way for Siane as they meander through the thicket that is the entrance to the Ula’Ula’ Meadow.   “I could call the Ride Tauros back…”

“No, I’m all right,” Siane insists.  “If this place is as gorgeous as you say it is, I want to walk and take it all in.  Besides,” she says with a playful smirk.  “If I have any issues, I know my big hero will catch me, right?”  She bumps Nanu’s shoulder teasingly with her own, walking past him.

Nanu is rooted to the spot for a minute, unable to come up with a response.  Big hero?  Him?

Finally, he lets go of the tree branch and follows after Siane.

“Yeah,” he mumbles.  “Something like that.”

A moment later, the pair step into Ula’ula Meadow proper, and whatever thoughts Nanu had been having about Siane’s quip disappear.  This is the moment he’s been waiting for all day - the chance to show off what he, privately, thinks of as the most gorgeous part of the island,

He’s not disappointed.  Siane stops dead in her tracks, taking in a sharp breath.  Her eyes widen and scan the scenery in front of her, the brilliant colors of the endless fields of dancing flowers reflected in her gaze.

And then a pair of Baile Oricorio swoop and chitter, dancing in the air across the meadow.  Another pair follow soon after, their brilliant red and black feathers flashing in the sun, but Nanu isn’t watching them.  He’s watching Siane.

A brilliant smile breaks across her face, and she follows the Oricorio until they disappear from sight.  Her eyes linger a moment where they’d vanished; then she turns to Nanu, affixing him with the full force of her beauty.

“Did you see them?  The four birds?”  She asks breathlessly.  “They were gorgeous.  This whole place is - it’s beyond gorgeous.  It feels like a waking dream.”

Nanu feels his stomach twist under the brilliance of her smile, her enthusiasm, and it’s only then that he starts to realize that he’s possibly getting in over his head.  He hasn’t felt like this in…so long.

He takes a deep breath in to steady himself and lets it out slowly, a soft smile pulling at his lips.

“I’m glad you like it,” he says.  “Ula’ula Meadow is the gem of this island, in my opinion.”

“I can’t believe you’re kahuna of all of this,” she breathes, turning to gesture at the endless flower fields.  Nanu ducks his head and puts his hands in his pockets, but Siane continues.  “That’s pretty amazing, you know.”

“You’ll make me blush, carrying on like that,” Nanu grumbles, but Siane catches the way he can’t quite suppress that soft smile she’d seen earlier.

“Oh?”  Siane says, quirking one eyebrow up at him.  “I didn’t even know you could blush.  I don’t think I’ve seen you blush once, in the whole time I’ve been with you.”  She grins teasingly at him, then steps into the meadow, treading the path carefully.  Nanu follows behind her, staying close as always.  “I bet you probably turn as red as these flowers when you do blush,” Siane laughs, gesturing at the swaying fields.  Nanu snorts, but doesn’t respond.  He honestly can’t remember how red he does or doesn’t get when he blushes.  In the distance, an Oricorio calls, then darts across the meadow again.  “Or as red as those birds,” Siane murmurs, suddenly entranced.  “What are they?”

“They’re called Oricorio.  They come in several forms across Alola.  This is the Baile form,” he explains.

“Fire Type?”  Siane guesses.

“Yup.  And Flying secondary type,” Nanu affirms.  “They actually change form depending on the type of nectar they consume.”

“Really?”  Siane asks, the fascination clear in her voice.  “That’s pretty interesting, from both a biological and conservation standpoint.  I’m going to want to hear more about that.  What kind of form changes do they undergo?”

Nanu starts telling her about the types of forms Oricorio come in, and which nectar influences which form, but soon, they’re at a crossroads in the Meadow.  Siane pauses just as Nanu’s finishing up about the Sensu Oricorio, and he walks past her, gesturing down the right direction.

“This way to get back home,” he says.

Siane continues to ask Nanu some questions about Oricorio as they walk, especially about the different types of nectar and what ecosystems they thrive in, and the two of them fall into an easy, companionable conversation.  Nanu leads the way through the Meadow, which, with its twists and turns, could seem rather maze-like to the unfamiliar.

And then, Siane falls oddly silent, no longer peppering him with little questions or making noises of interest as he talks about the nectar.  Nanu glances over his shoulder, concern clenching around his heart - had she fallen, and he’d failed to catch her?

But no - she’s on her feet, just distracted by something.  He follows her line of sight, eventually landing on the distant outline of the giant shrine perched in the Lake of the Sunne.  Its stone form is impressive, but Nanu can’t help but feel a sense of foreboding as he looks at it, as well.

Some things would be best left alone.

“What’s that?”  Siane asks.

“It’s an ancient shrine,” Nanu says, trying to keep his answer as clipped as possible.  It doesn’t work - of course it doesn’t, he thinks to himself.

“What kind of shrine?”  Siane presses.

Nanu sighs.

“I…don’t know if the shrine itself has a name, anymore.  But it’s all a part of the Lake of the Sunne.  It’s an ancient cultural site,” he explains.

“Really?”  Siane asks, her curiosity growing.  Nanu groans internally; this isn’t going well.  “We had shrines back home in Aedis.  Actually, some of them were connected to the sun, as well.”  She takes a few steps towards the path that leads to the Lake, drawn as if by an invisible force.

Nanu’s heart clenches, and he puts one hand on Siane’s shoulder, using enough strength to stop her from advancing any further.

“Where do you think you’re going?”  He asks, sounding gruff for the first time all day.

“Well, I was just thinking…there’s a path, and it looks pretty clear,” she suggests, her optimistic expression withering at the darkness that passes over Nanu’s face.

The last thing he’s going to let happen is to allow her to go there.

“That place is dangerous, Siane.  It’s old and dilapidated and literally falling apart in the water.  The last time I was in there,” he starts, then pauses as a cold chill passes over him.  He clears his throat, and finds it within himself to continue.  “The floor was close to breaking through in some places, and there was a lot of water damage causing frequent rockfalls.  I can’t - you can’t - expect yourself to be able to stay safe in a place as dangerous as that.  Not while you’re…” he trails off, letting the unfinished implication hang in the air.  Siane scowls, and Nanu wonders how deep this rebellious, headstrong streak of hers runs.  Would it get her in trouble, in the end?  Had it already, back home in Aedis?  “Besides,” Nanu murmurs, trying a different tack.  He softens the hand on her shoulder, giving her a gentle squeeze instead.  “You’re starting to look tired, Siane.  Let’s go home together and you can rest up.”

The fire in Siane’s eyes simmers down, and her posture softens.

“I guess I am starting to feel a little worn out,” she admits, her eyes flickering back to the enormous stone building in the distance.

“Let’s finish enjoying our walk, then,” Nanu says, giving her shoulder one more gentle squeeze before turning and leading the way once again.  He listens carefully as he walks, and it’s not long before he hears Siane’s footsteps, soft on the ground, trailing after him.

“Nanu?”  She asks after just a couple moments.

“Yeah?”  He responds, continuing to walk.  He wants to get as far away from here as possible; a small part of him is regretting having come to the Meadow at all.

“Will you take me there, sometime?  To the Lake of the Sunne?”

“Hmm,” is the only response he gives, and to his relief, Siane doesn’t press any further.

There’s a somewhat heavy silence between them as they continue to walk; he can tell Siane has more questions for him about the shrine, but knows better than to ask.  He can hardly blame her - if there were altars to the sun in her homeland, of course she’d be curious about this one, too.  Truthfully, even Nanu himself turns over the idea of any correlation in the back of his mind; if the gold bridge in the Malie Gardens had been built as homage to a sister bridge in Kanto, who was to say that there wasn’t a sister shrine to this one in Aedis?

Finally, the path begins to run out, and Nanu can see the thicket that will soon open into Route 17 again.  Judging from the very humid air coming out of the trees, it’s likely raining, as usual, on his home route.

“Guess we better get ready to hurry back to the Police Station, or else get soaked,” Nanu grumbles.  Siane draws close to him, pausing by his shoulder.

“Guess so,” she says, then sighs.  Her eyes cast about the Meadow one more time; she looks sad, pained, even, to have to leave.  “Nanu?”  She says, her voice quiet.  “If you can’t promise to take me to the Lake of the Sunne someday, will you at least promise to take me back here sometime soon?  Back to the Meadow?”

There’s no way Nanu can deny her this simple request, especially when she’s got that look in her eyes.  She looks like she’s longing for freedom, like she’s afraid of being caged up again.

“Of course, Siane,” he says softly.  In the distance, over Route 17, he hears a roll of thunder.  The two of them look off to the incoming storm in unison.  “Must be getting bad out there,” Nanu murmurs, then glances over at the young woman standing next to him.  She’d been working so hard today - working to exhaustion, in fact, if the look in her eyes was anything to judge by.  To think that she was going to have to trudge through the cold rain in a moment, with hardly any protection…  Nanu shrugs out of his cop jacket.

“What are you doing?”  Siane asks, clearly baffled.  

“Here,” he says, handing her the jacket.  “I don’t have an umbrella or anything, and I don’t want you getting sick from being out in the rain while you’re run down like this…”

Siane gets the gist of his idea, a smile breaking across her face.

“Thanks, Nanu,” she beams, holding the jacket over her head.  “You ready?”

Nanu’s heart skips a beat once again.

“Yeah,” he agrees.  Protecting people may be his job, but it doesn’t explain the way his body - or his mind - are responding to this young woman.  It doesn’t explain the fact that he feels, in that instant, that he’d follow her nearly anywhere if she asked him.

“Come on!”  Siane calls, already jogging ahead and leaving him behind.  Nanu sets off after her.

“Be careful!”  He urges, but he gets only a laugh in response.

By the time they’re both safe and sound in the shelter of the Po Town Police Station, it’s pouring outside again.  They’re both breathless from the jog, though Nanu’s more soaked through than Siane - he’s pleased to see that his jacket served its purpose.  He spares a fond smile for her as he closes the door behind them; he can’t help but feel a little proud that she had made it all that way without any difficulty.

The smile she returns for him takes his breath away more than the jog had.

“That was brilliant,” she gushes, dropping his soaked jacket on the floor.  The water that’s permeated the fabric splashes a few of his gathering Meowth, who scatter with a hiss.  “Not just the long run, either - the whole day.  Everything was amazing, Nanu.  Thank you so much.”  To his shock, she wraps her arms around his shoulders, pulling him briefly into an embrace.  His arms manage to come up just in time to embrace her back - but then, she pulls back and is gone, still smiling.  “I still don’t believe that there’s a desert out there on this island, though,” she laughs.

“There is,” Nanu insists.

“Doesn’t seem possible,” Siane teases him.

“As Kahuna, I can promise you, it’s there,” Nanu says, his smile growing a little wider.

“Yeah?”  Siane asks,   “Guess you’ll have to promise to take me there another day, too.”

Nanu laughs and shakes his head.

“Sure,” he acquiesces.  “If that’ll make you happy.”

“It will,” Siane agrees, and Nanu is surprised to feel his heart soar at the thought that this brilliant, beautiful young woman might actually want to spend time with him.

What was he getting himself into?

[bugaboobss]

Moshing

so i read this post by @lllluka and it totally gave me flashbacks to the one time I was at a concert and threw myself into a mosh pit, so I felt like I had to write something for it in like an hour lol, hope you guys enjoy!

This had to be the most painful looking experience Marinette had ever witnessed. 

She was sitting on a picnic blanket a bit away from the main crowd near the front of the stage, watching with horror-filled eyes as the crowd slammed into each other over and over again in time with the blasting music. People were jumping up and down, running into each other at full speed, and Marinette was pretty sure she could see some blood on the grass beneath the crowds feet. 

Beside her, Adrien was watching the crowd with an identical expression. Neither of them had ever been to a real metal concert before, and it was… an experience to say the least. 

The music was great, that was a fact. Marinette loved this kind of music, and hearing it loud enough to burst her eardrums just made the experience all that much more enjoyable. The only part she was iffy on was the mosh pit writhing in front of the stage. 

“Doesn’t that hurt?” Marinette asked after a moment, turning to where Luka was sitting on her other side with a worried frown. 

Luka shrugged. “It can, but it kind of just depends on how willing you are to shove people away from you. Plus, it’s a huge adrenaline rush, so you really don’t feel any pain because you’re so filled with energy.” 

“Huh,” Marinette turned to look back at the crowd, noticing how every person in the pit seemed to be having the time of their life. 

“It’s a lot of fun, Marinette!” A small voice quipped from in front of her. Glancing up, Marinette looked to Rose, who was giving her a sweet smile. 

“Rose? You’ve moshed before?” She asked, raising an eyebrow at the tiny girl. 

Someone snorted behind her. “Rose is literally the only person in Kitty Section who likes throwing herself in the pit,” Ivan explained, wrapping an arm around Mylene as he spoke.

Beside her, Adrien gasped. “Rose? You go in that thing?” He asked, staring at the girl with a mixture of admiration and terror. “Have you ever gotten hurt?” 

Rose giggled. “Yeah! It’s a lot of fun, honestly. I know it seems scary, but trust me once you’re in there you’re not thinking about anything else except how much you want to move. And yeah, I’ve gotten a few bruises here and there, but nothing terrible! It’s totally worth it in my opinion.” Rose then turned back to look at the crowd, and Marinette noticed it was slowing down as the song came to an end. “Speaking of, I think I’m gonna hop in there right now! Does anyone wanna join me?”

Marinette and Adrien shared wide-eyed looks before they both shook their heads. Luka laughed, and Marinette turned to give him a fake glare. 

“Why don’t you go in there, Luka?” Marinette asked, the challenge obvious in her voice. 

“Nah, not my thing,” Luka said with a shrug. 

“Juleka?” Marinette then questioned, turning back to glance at the dark-haired girl. 

“No way,” Juleka answered, her bangs swaying as she shook her head no. 

“So Rose is just going in there by herself?” Rose didn’t seem concerned about this, but Marinette was worried the small girl might get crushed by the crowd and no one would be able to find her. 

Suddenly, a booming voice shouted from behind. 

“OF COURSE NOT!” Whipping around, Marinette was met with the manic grin of Anarka Couffaine, who was making her way to the group with her hands on her hips. When she walked up to Rose, she threw an arm around the blonde’s shoulders. “I’ll be goin’ in there with Rose! She’s the only one of you kids who can keep up with me!” 

Okay, that wasn’t a surprise. 

“Marinette! Adrien! Do either of ya want to join us?” Anarka then asked, her eyes glittering behind her glasses. 

Both shook their heads no, and Anarka shrugged. “Your choice. If ya change yer mind, feel free to hop in!” With that, she and Rose headed to the crowd just as the next song began to pick up. 

“I hope they’re okay,” Adrien said quietly. “Father always said heavy metal concerts were dangerous.” 

“Wait then how are you here right now?” Mylene asked. 

Adrien smirked, and Marinette felt her cheeks heat up at the sight. “My father doesn’t know I’m at a heavy metal concert. He thinks I’m working on a school project with Alya.” It was true. Marinette knew Alya and Adrien had taken several pictures together at Alya’s house before the concert so that if Adrien’s father asked for evidence that he was there, Adrien would be alright. 

From their blanket on the grass, Marinette couldn’t make out a ton of detail in the mosh pit, but she could spot Rose’s short gold hair near the center of the pit. Every few seconds, she’d get a glimpse of Anarka as well, who was even further in the center than Rose was. Both seemed to be having the time of their lives, and as the minutes passed, Marinette’s fear waned. 

The music was back and louder than ever, and the beat was infectious. Marinette’s foot tapped in time with the beat, Luka patted out a rhythm on his thighs, and Adrien hummed along. It was a cold fall afternoon, and Marinette tilted her head back to take a deep breath of the crisp air. 

After a few minutes of just listening and enjoying, Marinette pulled out her phone to add this to her instagram story. She loaded up the app, and was about to click on the ‘add to story’ button, when she noticed the first post in her feed and frowned. 

It was Lila. The picture she posted was a selfie with Jagged Stone, who looked like he’d rather be anywhere but taking a picture with the brunette. Lila was smiling brightly and holding up Jagged’s latest album, and Marinette was going to just click away before she noticed the caption. 

Had a great time seeing the private Jagged Stone concert last night! It was great to catch up with him, and he even said I could design his next album cover! Love you, Jagged! 

Marinette blinked. That was in no way true. Lila had zero graphic design experience, and even if she did, Jagged would never have offered to let her design his album cover. He’d already talked about letting Marinette design it again, considering how well-received her first design was. 

Even though she knew it was a bad idea, Marinette grit her teeth as she clicked to the comments. There were choruses of you’re so cool, Lila! And omg I can’t believe I know someone who’s friends with Jagged Stone and You’re gonna do great, Lila! 

Marinette hated this. She hated how Lila could lie about anything and get away with it. She noticed how Lila didn’t tag Jagged Stone in her picture, probably to minimize any chance of him seeing her lie and calling her out on it. This was so unfair. 

It was a familiar anger that came over Marinette the longer she stared at the picture. She wanted to comment something to call her out, but she had no evidence to back up that she was lying. Her hands curled into fists, and she knew she needed to calm down soon. 

The song changed again, and Marinette looked up to see the pit still going crazy. Everyone was bouncing and shoving each other, and in that moment, nothing sounded more enjoyable to Marinette than getting to shove a few people around while listening to her favorite kind of music. 

“I’m gonna go in,” she said without thinking. 

“What?!” Adrien gasped beside her. She turned to meet his worried gaze, and while normally she would melt at a look like that from him, right now her sole focus was on getting in that pit. 

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” she reassured him. Next to her, she felt Luka rest a hand on her arm. 

“If you need anything, text me and I’ll run in there,” Luka said quietly. 

“Thanks Luka, but it’s just a mosh pit. I’ll be fine!” She said, even though she had no clue how this was going to go. 

Getting up before she could psych herself out of it, Marinette pocketed her phone and made her way over to the edge of the pit. The music was much louder closer to the stage, and Marinette could feel the bass reverberating in her bones. She saw a mix of teenagers and adults, most of them much taller than her, all shoving each other and bouncing around like it was the end of the world. Marinette craned her neck and was able to to spot Rose and Anarka still jumping up and down near the center. 

Taking a breath, Marinette reminded herself she’d jumped off the Eiffel Tower plenty of times before, and pushed her way into the fray. 

The minute she stepped inside the pit, Marinette was swept away. She was being shoved at all angles, and her vision was spinning as she tried to keep up. She jumped up and down, trying to look for where Rose and Anarka were, but she couldn’t stay in a single place for more than a second to look. The music was pounding in her ears, and she was being pushed from side to side so fast she could barely breathe. Her heart was pounding and she felt terrified, but… it wasn’t bad? 

Deciding to try and focus on the music, Marinette felt a hand shove her forward, and she stumbled before catching herself. Straightening back up, she barely had time to take a breath before she was being pushed to the left. Then the right. Then forward. Then backward. Every second she was being shoved by someone. It was dizzying. 

Marinette then remembered why she came into the pit, and when Lila’s smiling face came into her head, she felt her anger return. She got shoved again, and this time she shoved back. She wasn’t looking at who she was pushing, and it didn’t matter. The music was blasting and Marinette was dancing and holy shit Rose was right this was fun. 

The writhing mass of bodies was like one being as the crowd swelled and ebbed in time with the music. Marinette didn’t think, she just moved. Her heart was racing, she was covered in sweat, and she couldn’t stop smiling. 

The song slowly came to an end, and the crowd calmed down. Marinette was breathing heavily, and her entire body was already sore, but she felt better than she had in days. She waited for the music to pick up again so she could go back to her dancing, but there was only quiet. 

“Okay guys!” The singer suddenly announced from the front. The crowd perked to attention, and Marinette looked to the long-haired man with the microphone in his hands. “I want the pit to split down the middle. We’re doing a wall of death!” Suddenly a deafening roar of cheers erupted from all around, and Marinette glanced to the other people in confusion. What was a wall of death? 

Suddenly, the crowd split and Marinette felt herself being pushed backwards. Her half of the pit all lined up along one edge of the circle, and her eyes darted around as she tried to find where Rose and Anarka had went. 

Then, there was a hand on her arm, and Marinette turned to meet Rose’s sweet smile. 

“Marinette! You decided to join us!” Rose exclaimed excitedly. 

“Uh, yeah, I thought it looked fun,” Marinette said, laughing awkwardly. “But, um, what’s this ‘wall of death’?” 

From behind Rose, Anarka chuckled. “Oh dearie, yer gonna see in a minute. Just follow our lead, when we run, you run!” 

Marinette’s eyes widened as she turned to see the other half of the pit, and the music picked up once more. The energy in each side of the crowd seemed to grow with each passing second, the other concert-goers tapping their feet or bouncing a bit as the chorus drew closer. A part of Marinette wondered what the hell she was doing, but she’d been having fun so far, so hopefully this wall of death didn’t turn out too bad. 

Back at the picnic blanket, Tikki was sitting in Marinette’s purse, watching the wall of death form with wide eyes. Human music traditions certainly had gotten… stranger in the past few centuries. She just hoped that Marinette didn’t come back with a black eye. 

The beat drop got closer, and Marinette felt her heart rate pick up. She glanced to Rose, who gave her a thumbs up, and her breathing quickened. At the front of the crowd, the singer held a hand up as he sang the last note of the verse. 

And then, the hand dropped, and Rose grabbed Marinette’s arm before sprinting forward. 

Everything in the crowd was such a jumbled mess of pushing and shoving and dancing, and Marinette couldn’t tell which way was right and which way was left as the crowds slammed together. At one point she felt an elbow hit her face, but she was too hopped up on adrenaline to even mind it. 

By the time Marinette made her way out of the pit, all thoughts of Lila were erased from her head. All she could think of was how much fun she just had, and also how ready she was for a nap. Somehow, Rose and Anarka were still going. 

The girl approached the picnic blanket again, and Marinette gave a shy wave to her friends as they all stared at her in shock. As she got closer though, Adrien gasped and rushed forward.

“Marinette you’re bleeding!” He exclaimed. Marinette’s eyes widened as she tried to figure out where she’d gotten hurt, but she didn’t even get a chance to ask where before Luka was right by her side. 

“I’m bleeding?” She asked as both boys gaped at her. 

“Yeah, your nose,” Adrien said quietly, reaching forward a bit with his hand before pulling back. Reaching up with her hand, Marinette wiped at her nose, and was surprised when a bit of dried blood showed up on the back of her palm. 

Luka rested his hands on her shoulders and peered close to her face. “Did you get hit in the face?” 

“Yeah, someone did elbow me in the nose, but it didn’t hurt so I just figured it was fine,” Marinette said with a shrug. 

“Here, I have tissues,” Adrien said, rushing back to his messenger bag. He pulled out a small pack of kleenex and handed it to her, and Marinette blushed as she took it from him. 

“Thank you,” she muttered, bringing the tissues up to wipe at the dried blood on her upper lip. Beside her, Luka shifted and threaded an arm around her waist, and led her back to sit on the picnic blanket. 

She sat in between the two boys, ignoring their identical worried expressions as she finished cleaning the blood off. She was probably going to be covered in bruises tomorrow, but for now she felt fantastic. 

“How was it?” Adrien asked after Marinette had cleaned herself up. “I watched you in there and it seemed terrifying.” 

Marinette laughed. “No, Rose was right, it’s super fun.” 

“You enjoyed that?” Luka asked, the surprise obvious on his face. 

Marinette nodded. “Yup! And after I take a breather I’m gonna go back in there!” 

Both boys immediately shook their heads. “No way,” they said in unison. 

This made Marinette frown. “But-” 

“Please don’t go in there again, at least not today. You got hurt,” Adrien said softly, resting a hand on her shoulder. 

Marinette’s breath caught in her throat, and she felt a warm hand take hers. 

“It’s your first pit, Marinette. Don’t push yourself,” Luka said, squeezing her hand. 

With both boys looking so worried about her, Marinette’s face was practically on fire. 

“Well… alright then.” 

Marinette spent the rest of the concert squeezed in between Adrien and Luka, and she had to admit, she wasn’t that disappointed about not going in the pit again. Though the next time she went to a metal concert, she knew exactly where she was going to be.

[anubislover]

Welcome to the Heart Pirates, Nami-ya chapter 12: Love is the Drug

As the clock struck nine, Law escorted Nami back up the narrow stairway to the main street, gallantly helping her back into her coat as they waited outside for Ikkaku.

Leaning against the doorway, he smirked down at her. “I’m going to go ahead and assume my choice for our victory dinner was to your liking?”

“You know what they say; ‘to assume makes an ass of you and me’,” Nami quipped, guard back up. It had been a nice dinner, to be perfectly honest, but the realization of how easy it would be to get hooked on Law’s seduction had shaken her.

After their dance, he’d led them back to the booth and ordered another bottle of champagne, settling in to watch the performers until it was time for her to go. The problem was, in order to get the best view of the stage, the two of them had basically had to cuddle up in the middle of the booth. Law had refrained from wrapping his arm around her waist again, but somehow, the way he’d instead rested it along the back of her seat, his long fingers just able to absently brush against the bare skin of her shoulder, had been worse. The pinpricks of heat they left behind with every casual touch had traveled through her veins like poison, settling in her lower belly and making her hyper aware of his presence for the next half-hour.

Yellow eyes rolled in mock exasperation. “Is it really so difficult to admit you had a good time with me?”

“I’m doing you a favor; with the way that place strokes your ego, your head will swell to the point where you won’t be able to walk through the Tang’s doors.”

He snorted, pushing away from the door frame to stand up straight. “How considerate of you. And how much are you charging for this service?”

Resting her back against the side of the building, Nami peered through the foggy streets, hoping to catch sight of Ikkaku. “I’ll cut you a break and say the cost of those four bottles of champagne we drank. Of course, you still owe me 75,000 belli per day for the rest of the time I’ve been providing this service, plus 300% interest,” she stated, sticking her tongue out at him. Even though she knew their banter would quickly turn to flirting, she couldn’t help herself. It came as naturally as breathing at this point.

“What a coincidence; that happens to be the same amount I’ve been charging you for room and board, plus medical expenses.”

“Liar! That was never in our deal!”

“I never agreed to cover it, either. You also still owe me for your lovely jewelry,” he chuckled, reaching out to run his fingers over the shimmering barrettes. “I believe that was 30,000 belli for the set, plus an additional 50,000 for the diamond hairpins. Oh, and you promised to pay me back with interest, too.”

She shifted her stance so he was no longer touching her, hoping the motion was subtle enough that he wouldn’t see it as a sign of weakness. For extra measure, she glared at him, crossing her arms and jutting out her hip with more confidence than she truly felt. “Well, maybe you should have brought that up after the mission.”

“Give me some credit, Nami-ya; I’m not going to shake down an exhausted, potentially traumatized woman for money,” he drawled as he tucked a stray lock of sunset hair behind her ear. The hot tip of his fingers brushed against the sensitive shell, and Nami fought to suppress a shiver, though she was certain from the way his smirk widened that she’d given some other subtle cue that he’d sparked her arousal.

She was really going to have to watch herself now. If Law was as good at reading her body’s tells as he claimed, it was going to be so much harder to claim she wasn’t interested. For the sake of keeping things professional, the Surgeon of Death needed to be kept at arm’s length, otherwise the next nine months were going to be hell.

Abandoning subtlety and jerking away from his touch, she snapped, “Fine, I’ll pay you when I get back to the ship. But only at 0.1% interest.”

“That seems pretty low.”

“I never specified, so that’s all you’re getting.”

“Hmmm, considering how much you like to weasel your way out of things, I think I’d rather you pay me back now. And if you don’t have cash, I’m happy to take another form of payment,” he said, leaning his forearm against the wall above her head and grinning mischievously down at her. “I’ll forgive your debt for one kiss on the lips.”

Instinctively arching her back to better look up at him, she scowled defiantly. “Kisses from me are worth 800,000 belli each, so I’d be taking a loss on that. No deal.”

“Kiss or pay up, Nami-ya,” he teased as he caressed her jaw, his hot breath, which smelled deliciously of champagne and whiskey, dancing over the pale skin of her throat. “You should know nothing in life is free.”

Luckily for the redhead, out of the corner of her eye Nami spotted Ikkaku approaching, so she ducked under Law’s arm, tossing over her shoulder as she dashed off, “Everything is free if you take it without paying!”

To her surprise, Ikkaku, having heard her parting quip, laughed and grabbed her arm, leading her down a dozen winding side-streets in a dead sprint. When they finally stopped to catch their breath, she winked. “Well. I promised a rescue, but it looks like you were managing fine on your own.”

“The assist was still appreciated,” Nami said with a grin, bumping their hips together. “Ready to party?”

Slinging her arm around the redhead’s shoulder, Ikkaku replied excitedly as she led her inside, “Hell yeah! Our long-overdue Girls’ Night has come at last!”

The bar, Venus, wasn’t nearly as extravagant as Ruby 8, but it was illuminated with cool blue lights that gave the place an unearthly glow, large glass tables, cushy couches, and plenty of attractive male waiters ready to serve the lovely ladies that come through the door. It seemed that, on top of being Ladies’ Night, there was a two-for-one special drink called Hypnotique on the menu. This resulted in a fairly impressive turnout despite being a new establishment as several groups of girls, lured by cheap drinks and lack of creepy men, had flocked to the place.

Luckily, there was still room at the long marble bar, and Nami and Ikkaku quickly claimed a pair of empty stools. Before they could even open their mouths, a tall, pale-haired bartender pulled out a pair of martini glasses. He was well-built, had intense green eyes, and flashed them one of those boyish smiles that could easily make a weak-willed lass melt like butter. “First ones are on me,” he said with a wink. “It’s the least I can do for such beautiful ladies.”

Giggling and fluttering her eyelashes, Nami cooed, “How gallant! Thank you!”

“Wow. Free drinks already?” Ikkaku asked suspiciously, eyeing him up with an unimpressed frown. “Bold to assume you already know what we’d like.”

Nami elbowed her friend in the side. Free drinks were rarely something to turn down, and she certainly understood why any man would treat Ikkaku; the engineer looked absolutely stunning in the short, body-hugging silver dress. The curves her jumpsuit usually hid were on full display, proving that for all her tomboyish personality, she had a great figure. Dark, straightened locks fell enticingly around her shoulders, and her makeup was minimal but smokey, enhancing her umber brown eyes.

The bartender, who’s ID tag stated his name was Mandōreku, didn’t seem dissuaded. “Hey, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? When a man has a chance to win a woman as beautiful as you’s attention, it’d be a crime to waste it.” He leaned across the bar towards the dark-haired beauty, whispering conspiratorially, “Besides, I’m positive you’ll like it; Hypnotique is my own recipe. If it’s a hit tonight, the boss promised me a special bonus. So yeah, first one’s free if you promise to give a good review.”

Ikkaku’s thin eyebrows furrowed a moment before finally nodding in agreement, far more accepting of his practical reason than his flattery. “I don’t give praise lightly, so it’d better be the best damn thing I’ve ever tasted,” she warned.

“If you’re not hooked after tonight, I’ll cut off my nose as penance,” he said confidently before turning to finish fixing their drinks.  

With the handsome man suitably occupied, Ikkaku turned to Nami with a teasing smirk. “Now that that’s taken care of; spill. I want to hear all about how your date with Dr. Heart Stealer went.”

“It wasn’t a dat—wait. You knew about that song?” Nami asked, gob smacked. “Why didn’t you warn me?!”

“Warn you that the boss had his own theme song or warn you about how sexy it is?”

“It wasn’t that sexy,” she grumbled unconvincingly.

“Uh huh. So, you weren’t even a little turned on?”

Pink dappled her cheeks as she recalled the suggestive lyrics and the way Law had held her close as they danced, her curves flush against him so she could feel every muscle ripple as they glided across the dance floor. “Can we change the subject? You promised me five consecutive minutes with no talk about Law tonight,” she replied with a pout, hoping the blue lighting hid her embarrassed flush.

“Fine, fine. But I’m counting the past minute.” The two martini glasses were placed in front of them, both containing a fruity, sky-blue cocktail with a drop of dark purple juice floating down towards the bottom like squid ink. Ikkaku took a sip and smacked her lips approvingly. “Ok, I’ll admit it; this is good,” she acknowledged.

Mandōreku beamed proudly. “Told ya so. Want me to bring you another once you’re done?”

“Fine. You can open a tab for us, too.”

“Sure thing, gorgeous,” he said with a wink, walking off to attend some other customers.

As she sipped on her own drink, Nami smirked. “He’s totally into you.” After all the teasing Ikkaku gave her over Law, there was no way she was going to miss the opportunity to return the favor.

Unfortunately, instead of showing even a hint of a blush, the engineer merely waved her hand dismissively. “Whatever. He’s not bad looking, but he’s only into me because of the dress. If he saw me in uniform, there’s no way I’d be getting free drinks.”

“Give yourself some credit—you make that jumpsuit look damn good.”

“Oh, I know I do, but I prefer a guy who thinks I’m irresistible in motor oil and baggy clothes as much as slinky dresses and lipstick.”

“And those are hard to come by, huh?”

“Big time.” Her full lips turned up in a smirk. “You should have seen the crew when I walked down the hall in this dress. They always seem to forget what a hot piece of ass I am, so it did my ego good to see them trip over themselves. Penguin literally walked into a wall he was so distracted.”

“I don’t blame him. I can barely keep my eyes off you,” she giggled, easily imagining the first mate’s dumb-struck face. The man might have been one of the more sensible Hearts, but he was still weak to a pretty woman. “But you should give Mandōreku a chance—maybe he is the kind of guy who would go gaga over a dirty engineer.”

“Please, he’s flirting because it’s his job—make a girl feel pretty so she’ll buy more booze. It’s no different from when you hit on a guy so you can steal his wallet.”

“Ok, ok!” Nami laughed, conceding the point. “But you don’t get to tease me about my lack of sex life if you’re just as picky as I am.”

“I’m not picky; I just know what I want. I know what you want, too. Tall, dark, scheming, dominating, dangerous…”

Rolling her eyes, the navigator slowly sipped her cocktail. It was fruity and tasted strongly of pomegranate and strawberries, but a sharp, sour note and the burn of alcohol cut through the sweetness nicely. “Couldn’t even make it five minutes, huh?”

“Technically, I didn’t bring up anyone specific. But fine, here’s a question I desperately need answered,” Ikkaku said, brow furrowing as she turned to face her, long legs crossed and drink in hand. “How the hell did a girl as gorgeous as you manage to stay a virgin on the high seas?”

Chewing on her bottom lip, Nami hesitated before replying, “It…it was partially by choice, but mostly I just never had the time to invest in a relationship. I had to earn 100 million belli if I wanted to buy back my village. Personal relationships would have been a distraction. Plus…my captain at the time would have slaughtered anyone who so much as touched me.” Even if he hadn’t been determined to keep her in his clutches, Arlong’s casual attitude towards killing humans would have ensured she’d avoid relationships to keep their blood off her hands. “Even a one-night stand wasn’t worth the risk. I mean, what if I got pregnant? That bastard wouldn’t hesitate to hold a baby hostage if it meant I’d have to work for him forever.” She shuddered at the thought. Though she often imagined children in her distant future, she’d get a hysterectomy without anesthesia before letting such a monster gain that kind of power over her.

“And your captain never decided to claim you for himself?”

The thought of Arlong bearing any amount of physical attraction towards her made her stomach lurch. “If there was one good thing about being a prisoner of Fishmen who saw humans as repulsive scum, it’s that sex with me was the last thing on their minds.”

“You’re lucky,” the engineer said softly, knocking back the rest of her drink. “A lot of girls have to suck it up and take it.”

Brown eyes widened as sick realization dawned. “Did you—”

Ikkaku shook her head. “Got groped a lot at my old engineering job. No matter how many times I complained about it, my boss always looked the other way; at least, until I’d threaten to bash someone’s face in. Then I was the one who faced docked wages.”

“Why didn’t you leave?”

“Couldn’t afford it,” she replied sadly, running her finger around the rim of her martini glass. She paused briefly as Mandōreku swooped in to replace their drinks with fresh ones. Thankfully he didn’t linger, and Ikkaku continued, “It was a shit port, but the only one with any real mechanic jobs, and I guess I was just stubborn, you know? My brothers had always told me that, yeah, I was smart and knew machines better than anyone else, but a female engineer just didn’t stand a chance. I wanted to prove them wrong, even if it meant putting up with creeps and assholes.”

“And then you got fired anyway for doing your job right.”

She smiled, eyes bright with pride. “And then I joined the Heart Pirates, where I’m respected and never groped, and the boss takes my opinions seriously. Most of the time, at least.”

Despite herself, Nami grinned as she raised her glass. “Sounds like we both got out of pretty bad situations and found captains worthy of our amazing talents and beauty.”

“That we did. Straw Hat’s a lucky man to have gotten you on his crew.”

“Damn straight.” Seeing an opportunity to gain some information, she asked innocently, “Speaking of lucky men, I hear you guys got to see Amazon Lily and live.”

A dark aura surrounded Ikkaku the moment the words left Nami’s mouth. “Yeah, the guys are lucky I didn’t kick all their asses!” she snarled, fist clenched in rage and murderous fire in her eyes.

Nami blanched. Penguin had said the crew had pissed her off, but this was a much more volatile response than she’d been expecting. “Yeesh, was it that bad?” she asked hesitantly. She was faintly reminded of her own reaction back when she’d been mocked for mentioning Skypeia but brushed it off. Surely, she hadn’t been nearly as bad, and that anger had been perfectly justified. After all, those drunken idiots had dared to laugh at her, all over an innocent question!

Caught up in her anger, the engineer ranted, “Those stupid bastards acted like they’d gone years without seeing a woman. Fucking heart-eyes and nosebleeds everywhere! Almost got themselves shot full of arrows for it, too! I don’t care that they don’t all want to bang me, but fucking hell, when I pointed out that they were acting stupid, they asked if I was jealous! I nearly walked right off the ship and joined Boa Hancock’s crew out of spite!”

Though it was probably smarter to change the subject, Nami found herself asking, “What stopped you?”

Ikkaku’s boiling fury simmered down into a scalding irritation. “Bepo. Literally the only male with sense during our stay. Well, I guess Jean Bart wasn’t so bad, either, but he didn’t really know any of us well enough to pick a side. Either way, Bepo managed to convince me to stick around, even though I still didn’t talk to the other idiots until a week after we left.”

A small smile lifted the corner of Nami’s lips as she noted the deliberate lack of mentioning the Heart Captain. “Ok, I’m curious, so I’ll let you off the hook for this; what did Law do to piss you off? Penguin said he made a stupid comment…”

Chin resting on her fist, she sighed petulantly. “I mean, I get he was stressed with Straw Hat’s surgery and trying to keep everyone alive, but the way he blew off my complaints about it reminded me too much of my old boss, you know? He even snapped at me and said if I didn’t like it, I could leave.”

“…Excuse me I need to go punch your jackass captain.”

A laugh bubbled up in Ikkaku’s throat as she caught Nami’s wrist, tugging her back onto her stool. “It’s fine! Like I said, he had a lot going on, so he was more sleep deprived and grumpier than usual. Straw Hat’s surgery took a lot out of him, and that on top of avoiding the Marines and keeping the boys from getting killed couldn’t have been easy. Once shit settled down and he realized how genuinely pissed I was, he apologized.”

Crossing her arms, Nami scowled. “You let him off with just an apology? I would have made Luffy grovel.”

“Oh, he knew I’d never let him get away with just a verbal admission of guilt, so said apology mainly consisted of a fancy new tool kit and a nice bonus to my paycheck; that’s basically groveling for him. Heck, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s part of why he put us together; figured I’d be more willing to keep putting up with his shitty attitude if I had some female companionship.”

A more cynical part of Nami’s brain wondered if that was why Law had been so eager to recruit her, but she brushed it off. He was opportunistic and probably reassured that her presence helped appease his best engineer, but he wouldn’t have taken the risk of trusting the nakama of a rival pirate for such a minor thing. “I’m surprised he wasn’t worried about you convincing me to run away with you.”

“Maybe that’s why he flirts with you so much—he knows I won’t leave if there’s decent entertainment.”

“And the subject of Law is officially back on hold again.”

Ikkaku sniggered. “Fair. But just you wait, oh blushing virgin. You can’t hide from my teasing forever.”

“I can try.”

They finished their cocktails, and before the empty glasses even touched the coasters, the bartender had already brought new ones.

“Impressive service,” Nami noted as Mandōreku darted away to attend to some other customers. She would have loved to watch him try to flirt with Ikkaku again; whether she shot him down or finally gave into his attentions, the redhead was sure it would be an amusing show. Unfortunately, it seemed that none of the men working the club had time to linger—the place was packed, so every man had their hands full, especially as the clientele got more wasted. There was a group of girls at one of the large glass tables that looked like they were having a great time ordering as many drinks as possible so they could watch the attractive waiters walk back and forth, and one black-haired beauty in particular appeared to be utterly smitten, leaning in closer every time one stopped by to drop off another Hypnotique.

“The place just opened, so they’re probably hoping to generate some good buzz,” Ikkaku replied, taking a sip of her drink. “Grimm’s full of flash-in-the-pan, pop-up bars and clubs. Everyone thinks they’ll be the ones to make it big, or it’s a front to some other illicit business, but sooner or later, the owner pisses off the wrong person and gets killed or run out.”

“Well that’s terrifying.”

“Eh, it’s an island full of brothels, black market brokers, back-alley doctors, and other scum. That’s why the crew enforces the buddy system. Which reminds me…” Reaching into her coat, she passed Nami her Clima-Tact and holster. “Better safe than sorry, right?”

Gratefully, she took her weapon, strapping the holster around her waist. “Right. Thanks for worrying about me.”

“Hey, no one’s allowed to steal you away from the crew but me, you hear?”

Laughing carelessly, Nami nodded, taking a sip of her new drink. It was stronger than what she’d expect for a two-for-one special, but maybe Mandōreku added an extra shot in hopes of impressing the duo. Or getting them drunk. She wasn’t worried, though; she’d out-drunk entire taverns with stronger booze than this, and she expected Ikkaku was no slouch, either.

Taking a glance at a nearby clock, the dark-haired engineer’s grin widened. “Anyway, it’s now been five minutes, so Law’s a viable conversation piece again. I don’t see any hickeys—Boss managed to control himself this time?” Ikkaku teased.

Nami’s face flushed slightly at the memory of the incident. Her skin tingled as she remembered the delicious way his teeth had scraped against her vulnerable throat. “Law is so lucky I didn’t slap him for that,” she groused, shaking the feeling away.

“I mean, that was his payback for the sunburn prank, right? Fair’s fair.”

“Oh, shut up; your boss is a lecherous jerk and you know it.”

“And you like the attention he gives you and you know it. I don’t get why you two don’t just fuck and get it over with. You don’t have an evil Fishman holding your life hostage anymore, so what’s the holdup?”

Finger pressed to her bottom lip, Nami sarcastically pretended to think. “Hmmm, I wonder; because we have to work together, and a one-night stand could make the next nine-months-and-change awkward? Because, despite the odds, I’ve made it this far with my virginity still intact, so it seems a waste to throw it away for some meaningless fling? Because I want my first time to be special and with someone I fully trust and not just a guy looking to get into my pants? Because we could end up being enemies in the New World and I don’t want to have to explain to my nakama that I had sex with one of Luffy’s rivals?”

“Do you really think they’d care about that?”

She sighed, absently playing with Nojiko’s bracelet. “I don’t know. I mean, they’ve forgiven me for a lot worse. But Luffy and Law might someday fight it out for the One Piece—you can’t tell me you wouldn’t feel a little guilty if you’d slept with, let’s say Drake or Kid?”

“I’d feel guilty about sleeping with Drake, but only because Law’s staked his claim. And please tell me you wouldn’t actually think I’d be crazy enough to sleep with Eustass Kid?!” she asked, nose wrinkled in disdain.

“Ok, bad examples.” Nami wracked her brain for other Supernovas. “What about Basil Hawkins?”

“If I’d actually managed seduce the world’s most stoic magician, Law would be singing my praises. But I get your point.” Taking a sip of her drink, Ikkaku smirked. “Here’s a question; would you sleep with Hawkins? I mean, imagine it’s not your first time—which, I’ll admit, is a totally legit reason for not giving into Law. But if Basil Hawkins came up to you and said, ‘the cards predict we’ll sleep together’, would you?”

The question caught her off-guard, but despite herself, she considered it. “I mean, I’d never settle for such a shitty pick-up line, but if we just went by looks…” she trailed off, thinking. “He’s got nice hair and he’s not exactly ugly, but the deadpan expression’s kind of a turn-off. Hard to imagine him as a lover.”

“Agreed. He’s from the North Blue, too, so we ran into him a couple times before we set off for the Grand Line, and I don’t think I saw his expression change once.”

“I believe it.”

The Heart Pirate’s grin turned salacious. “So, does this mean we’re going to start rating the fuckability of each Supernova?”

“I mean, what’s Ladies’ Night without arbitrarily ranking men you barely know based on how willing you are to sleep with them, right?” Nami joked, glad they’d moved the conversation away from serious topics. This was supposed to be a fun evening, after all, and she was still feeling a bit raw from spilling so much of her past to Law earlier. And while she’d often indulged in late-night girl talk with Robin, it had rarely been about men; there simply hadn’t been anyone who’d caught her attention at the time, and she’d felt awkward asking the archeologist about her love life considering what a private person she was. Ikkaku was definitely more inclined to share all the dirty details, whether Nami asked for them or not. “You already said you’d never lower yourself to sleep with Kid, but what about his first mate?”

“Bold of you to assume I haven’t already tapped that.”

The redhead’s jaw dropped to the polished bar top. “You’re kidding!”

“Nope.”

“Spill.”

Grinning like she’d been wanting to tell the tale for ages, Ikkaku leaned forward eagerly. “Happened the third time our crews crossed paths. Usually, we try to stay out of each other’s ways so our captains don’t try to murder each other, but we were both after the same treasure. A freak storm came out of nowhere and Killer and I got separated from the group, and since I was injured, we opted to wait for help in a cave.”

“You were hurt?”

“Just a sprained ankle. Nothing serious, but I wasn’t in any condition to traipse through the jungle like that, and with all the dangerous animals about, I wasn’t going to let Killer carry me around and not have his hands free in case we were attacked.”

“Who made the first move?”

“Well, I ripped off his mask and kissed him, but he’d been coming onto me for hours by that point. I mean, a girl can only hold back so long when a hot guy like that’s rubbing her shoulders and offering to share body heat to keep warm.”

Now that was an obvious come-on if ever she heard one. “How was he?”

To Nami’s amazement, a red blush spread across Ikkaku’s cheeks. “Surprisingly gentle, though that might have been because he didn’t want to jostle my ankle. I usually like it rough, but damn, he was such a tease I didn’t mind. Definitely a considerate lover; he even made me breakfast the next morning.”

“Nice. A guy like that at least seems worth my time, if you’re willing to share,” she joked.

“I’m not opposed,” Ikkaku replied with a wink. “Moving on, I’m going to pre-emptively assume that Apoo and Urogue are in the ‘no’ category.”

“Apoo is horrifying on at least a dozen different levels, but I heard that Urouge’s hobby is ‘making love’, so he might have some redeeming qualities.”

Ikkaku nearly spit out her drink. “Where’d you hear that?!”

Chuckling, Nami recalled her own flabbergasted reaction when she’d been informed of that surprising tidbit. “Robin. If there’s anyone who studied up on the pirates of the Grand Line more than me, it’s her. And she always seems to know the weirdest, most obscure facts.”

“Noted. So, what about Roronoa and Straw Hat? They’re Supernovas, too.”

Nami choked on her cocktail, the burn of the alcohol settling uncomfortably in her lungs. “I wouldn’t sleep with Zoro any more than you’d sleep with Law!” Shaking her head in exasperation, she continued, “Sure, aesthetically he’s good-looking, but he’s dumb as a sack of hammers and has even worse directional sense.” Wiping away some of the blue liquid that escaped her lips, she added, “Besides, he’s like my brother, you know? He and I were Luffy’s first crewmembers; if something were going to happen between us, it would have already.”

“What about Straw Hat?”

Shifting awkwardly, the navigator admitted, “Luffy…look, Luffy’s a sweetheart. He’s fought pirates for me, climbed a mountain to get me to a doctor, saved my life at least a dozen different times…I can easily imagine a girl with far more patience than me falling in love with someone as goofy, determined, and loyal as him. But I can’t imagine him having sex.”

Tapping her lower lip thoughtfully, Ikkaku replied, “Yeah, I can see your point.”

“Dare I ask your opinion on the matter?”

“I’d do Zoro, but if he’s as dumb as you say, he’d probably have no clue what to do with an amazingly sexy woman like me. Probably isn’t all the interested in girls.”

“Seeing as he’s the only guy who didn’t spy on me in the baths, I’d say that’s a fair assessment.”

She sighed dramatically. “Such a tragic waste—a guy that good looking, but so utterly clueless. As for Straw Hat, I think you’re right. He’s sweet as pie, but not the kind of guy who’d push you up against a wall and ravish you. Unlike my captain—”

“Jewelry Bonney! Would you do her?!” Nami cut in, desperate to keep the subject off Law for just a little while longer.

Ikkaku laughed. “In a heartbeat! That chick’s wild, so I can imagine she’d be up for a good time. How about you?”

“You know, I think I’m on board with that, assuming she doesn’t stop halfway through to grab a snack.”

“Yeah, the only eating I’d want her to do is eating me out!” Ikkaku cackled before her mocha eyes took on a devious gleam. “I already gave you my answer, but I’m curious about yours—would you fuck Drake?”

“Didn’t you just say Law has dibs?”

“If it’s you—and he gets to watch—I think he’d be ok with it.”

Maybe it was the chance to indulge in real girl-talk without fear of their crewmates eavesdropping, but Nami felt almost giddy. Sure, talking about sex was still embarrassing, but Ikkaku gossiped about it so easily that it was hard not to get drawn in. Or maybe she was still a little aroused from her evening with Law, and she needed to let off some steam.

Taking a deep breath, Nami admitted, “I mean, before yesterday I’d say no—too stuffy and intimidating. But now…”

“He and Law got you all hot and bothered, huh?”

“I honest to god have never been so terrified and horny at the same time. Drake looked…feral.”

Blushing, Nami gave her the details of their encounter. How he’d helped her through her panic attack and been such a shy gentleman, at least until he’d decided to abduct her. How, when Law had been egging him on with his lecherous comments and groping, Drake had gone from hostile to interested, particularly when asked to help teach the wayward Cat Thief obedience. How, despite the bloodlust in the air and the bad reaction to the birth control, she’d found her panties had been completely soaked through after the encounter.

Honestly, she’d never expected to be turned on by a man like X Drake, but now she was sure he’d be the star in at least a few fantasies. After all, it had been pretty hot imagining him with Law. In her mind, the pair went together nicely; Law was cool and collected but eager to tease, while Drake seemed like the sort who’d start off shy, but morph into a hungry beast when pushed too far. Now, put an eager, orange-haired navigator in the middle…

When Nami was finished, Ikkaku blinked owlishly. “Wow. Ok, I know I’ve been trying to get you with Law, but if you really don’t want to date the Boss, I’d be happy to play wing-woman and set you up with Drake.”

Shaken out of her daydream, Nami gaped at her. “He tried to take me hostage!”

“Which could lead to some pretty intense sexytimes. I mean, handcuffs and dominance are a classic for a reason.”

“He’s at least a decade older than me!”

“On the Grand Line, age is just a number, and older men have their charms.”

“He could barely look at me when I took off the jumpsuit!”

“And yet you just admitted that, when Law basically put you on display, that shyness practically melted away.” Rolling her eyes in annoyance, Ikkaku leaned forward until she was barely an inch from her blushing friend. “Oh, come on; indulge me! You’re supposed to be a woman who can bring a man to his knees with a smile and empty his wallet with a wink. Are you saying you couldn’t seduce X Drake?”

Nami nibbled on her lip as her thighs clenched, warmth from the alcohol and fantasizing settling low in her belly. Oh, what was the harm, right? It was way safer to talk about Drake than Law; the chances of seeing him again were slim to none.

“Fine, I’ll play your game, but this,” she pointed between them erratically, “stays between us, got it?”

“You have my solemn oath as a Heart Pirate that if I so much as whisper any of your dirty fantasies to someone else, I’ll tattoo ‘traitor’ across my forehead in bright red letters.”

Pleased with Ikkaku’s sincerity, Nami leaned forward. “So, given how shy he is, I figure he’d need a little coaxing, right? But if the way he pretty much refused to look at me when I stripped down is anything to go by, I’d have to go slowly and start off dressed pretty conservatively.” A wicked thought entered her mind. “I’d dress up as a Marine or something—maybe something like Hina’s outfit. A nice, tailored suit that still hugs me in all the right ways.”

“Oooo, nice. Be sure to accessories with some sexy high-heeled boots.”

“Damn straight. Then, I’d pull every subtle trick I can think of—suck on a popsicle, ‘accidentally’ brush up against him, engage him in conversation just full of double-entendres, offer to help him ‘relax’ if he’s been having a stressful day—basically, drive him crazy wondering if I even realize how sexual I’m being.”

The shameless engineer sniggered. “Damn, girl, playing the innocent seductress card, huh?”

“Well, yeah. A shy guy like him needs to be pushed to the breaking point until he finally just snaps and pins me to the nearest flat surface.”

“You may be just as sadistic as Law.”

Red-faced but pleased with herself, Nami giggled. She was just glad Ikkaku didn’t ask her to elaborate any further—she was feeling surprisingly turned on. She made a mental note to grab a shower before bed; either a cold one, or a long, hot one where she could indulge in her fantasies a little longer. If that dildo her evil roommate had given her was water-proof, she might settle on the latter. “Hey, you asked. So, any other sexual conquests you wanna share? Who else has seen past the motor oil and canvas and been blessed by the goddess Ikkaku?”

“Honey, my sexual conquests would put those books of yours to shame. I once made a guy cum so hard he literally blacked out.”

Impressed though she was, Nami found herself momentarily distracted. It had to be a trick of the light, but Ikkaku’s eyes looked almost blue.

“You ok?” the woman in question asked.

Nami shook her head, positive she’d just been seeing things. “Yeah, fine. The blue light’s just getting to be a little much.”

At that moment, Mandōreku stopped by, studying their half-finished drinks. “You ladies want me to freshen these up?”

“Actually, can you get my friend a glass of water?” Ikkaku asked.

“Water? You sure?”

The Heart pirate frowned at his failure to immediately comply. “Yeah. Water. You know, the stuff people drink to keep from getting dehydrated? You do have that, right?”

“Well, yeah, but it’ll have to wait until I’m done making the cocktails for those girls over there,” he replied cagily, pointing to a pair of women currently making out like they could only breath air stolen from their partner’s lungs.

“I think they can wait,” Ikkaku said blandly, eyes narrowing when he ignored her and went to check on another customer who was practically laying across the bar, clearly having had too much to drink.

Turning to Nami, she gave her a gentle nudge. “Why don’t you hit the ladies’ room and splash some water on your face? You’re looking a little flushed, girl. I’ll make sure there’s a glass of water waiting for you when you get back.”

Part of her wanted to insist she was fine, but when she shifted, her thighs rubbed together and a shocking jolt of arousal shot up her spine. Maybe a quick trip to the bathroom wasn’t such a bad idea…

As she got to her feet, Nami stumbled, ankles wobbling slightly as she made her way to the bathroom. Something seemed…off. She was having a hard time focusing. It was almost like being drunk, but that couldn’t be the case.

“Be back in a few minutes,” she told Ikkaku, though her voice sounded husky and distant to her own ears.

Her friend nodded absently, her eyes having strayed back over to their bartender, who was busy preparing another round of martinis. “Uh huh.”

High-heeled feet clumsy and numb, Nami slowly made her way across the club. It was almost disorienting to step inside the bathroom, with its regular lighting and distinct lack of blue, but she could hardly bring herself to care. At the moment, she was half-tempted to slip into one of the stalls and pull off her dress for a while—she was feeling hot and bothered, and her clingy dress rubbing against her sensitized skin wasn’t helping matters. It was different from how she’d felt in the jumpsuit, though—her warmed flesh wasn’t desperate for cold air and freedom, but for more heat and rough touches and contact with another person’s smooth skin.

For a minute, she imagined Law cornering her in the bathroom, caging her against the wall and slowly peeling off her dress, hands and mouth caressing every inch of skin he exposed, staring up at her with those piercing gold eyes. She may have been fantasizing about Drake earlier, but she knew that when it came to her own satisfaction, the Surgeon of Death was the real man for the job. When she was this ready and willing, she didn’t have time to carefully seduce a shy former Marine—she needed a hot and sexy bastard like Law who knew a golden opportunity when it fell in his lap.

Clutching the sides of the lone sink, Nami steadied herself, even though her knees felt weak and wobbly. What the hell was going on? She couldn’t be drunk! Sure, she’d had two bottles of champagne and the Sour Sunrise at Ruby 8, plus multiple Hypnotiques, but she’d drunk entire taverns dry without so much as a hiccup! And even on the rare occasion she had been more than a little tipsy, she’d never been a horny drunk! But right now, all she wanted was to slip her nimble fingers between her slick thighs and play with herself, or better yet, hunt down a certain captain and ride him like a prized stallion.

Gods, what she wouldn’t give to be back at Ruby 8 with Law. They could close those velvet curtains to the booth, she’d climb on his lap, and he could lick champagne off her cleavage while she ground her throbbing clit against his hard cock…

To her right, there was a groan and one of the women from the large group stumbled out a stall, collapsed to the floor and curled up into a fetal position, hand buried under her skirt as she twitched and spasmed. Nami stared at her, mind sluggishly processing that she didn’t seem to be in pain—her face was flushed and she was panting, but her blue eyes were rolled back in extasy.

The woman wasn’t hurt—she was in the midst of an intense orgasm.

Ikkaku’s advice popped into her head, and tearing her eyes away from the cumming burnette, Nami turned on the tap. Cold water was quickly splashed on her face, the shock allowing her to focus just a little bit more on her surroundings. Her head felt like it was stuffed with lead cotton, but despite the fuzzy weight she forced herself to look in the mirror, gasping in shock as she caught sight of her eyes.

Brown irises had been overtaken by an unnatural, bright blue.

The same blue as Hypnotique.

The sight cleared the rest of the drunken haze from her mind, and cold dread replaced the heat that had settled in her belly. She turned to the orgasming girl, and though the irises were barely visible, Nami could see they also had the same vibrant blue tint.

A horrible thought bubbled up, and she staggered back to the bar as quickly as she could, only to find that, throughout the club, more women were beginning to collapse to the floor with shuddering moans. Only Ikkaku seemed to be upright, though that was at least partially because she was currently being pinned to the edge of the bar by Mandōreku, the bartender’s large hands holding back her balled fists. There was a smoking gun on the floor, probably the tough engineer’s, but it appeared the only thing she’d managed to hit were the glass bottles.

Nami didn’t have time to think—she grabbed a half-empty martini glass and flung it at the bartender’s unsuspecting back, mentally cheering when it shattered between the shoulder blades, startling him enough that his hold on Ikkaku loosened enough for her to kick him in the stomach.

“You cowardly son of a bitch!” Ikkaku snarled, reaching behind the bar to grab the neck of one of the Vodka bottles, just barely missing Mandōreku when she tried to slam it into his face. “The fuck did you put in our drinks?”

“A lovely little drug called ‘uranos’, Miss Heart Pirate,” came a sneering voice from the door.

Nami spun on her heel, fear freezing her veins as Jinzo strolled through the door flanked by his massive bodyguards. Two of them blocked the entrance, rifles in hand and determined glares on their faces.

Taking advantage of the distraction the black market broker’s arrival granted him, Mandōreku grabbed Ikkaku’s arm and twisted it painfully around her back, wrapping his other beefy arm around her throat, panting as she struggled helplessly, “Good timing, Mr. Jinzo. As you can see, your investment is already paying off.”

Jinzo gave a pleased, yellow-toothed smile that sent a shiver down Nami’s spine as his gaze landed on the orange-haired pirate. “I must say, outrageous as your prices are, I can’t argue with your results. Seems your special drink was a real hit. And you even caught me the wretched Cat Thief.”

“Happy to be of service,” the bartender replied, nodding to the rest of the waiters. Immediately, the set aside their trays of drinks and began gathering up the barely conscious customers, carelessly tossing them onto the couches or into a heap by the bar. “Think this’ll be enough girls for your new brothel?”

“For now, but I’m sure I’ll call on you for a new batch once these expire.”

“What the fuck did you do to us?” Nami asked, grabbing a table to steady herself, the adrenaline and danger of the situation barely holding back the unwilling wave of arousal that tried to wash over her. She chanced a glance at Ikkaku, whose face was flushed with pain and pleasure even as she weakly tried to wiggle out of her captor’s arms.

Jinzo seemed amused at Nami’s determination to keep her head clear despite suffering from the effects of whatever she’d been dosed with. “Oh, just a special concoction that induces inebriation and doubles as a rather powerful aphrodisiac. You see, I’m opening up a new brothel, but renovations and paying off stupid pirates mean I’m short on the necessary funds to pay employees. So, I contracted Mandōreku here to open up this little club for a special Ladies’ Night to ‘recruit’ my first batch of whores.”

“You have the money to pay for a fake club, but not to hire legit employees?” Nami groaned, forcing herself to stay focused and not give in to the pleasant haze that was trying to creep back into her mind. Staring at the sleazy man’s terrible teeth helped—they were gross and crooked, just like his business practices.

“For what I spent on this whole façade, I’ll recoup the costs in no time. You see, once a woman succumbs to its effects, she’s completely addicted to physical pleasure. So I can cut back on unnecessary things like employee salaries because they’ll have no interest in money—just a single-minded drive for getting fucked.”

“Captain…won’t let…away with this,” Ikkaku panted, weakly clawing at her captor’s arm.

Jinzo scoffed. “Please, as if someone like Trafalgar Law gives a shit about either of you. By the time he realizes you’re gone, you’ll both be nothing but sex-addicted, mindless whores. Maybe I’ll let him buy one of you back, though I doubt you’ll be good for anything but pleasuring the crew.”

“Don’t forget our deal, Jinzo,” Mandōreku cut in. “I get to keep one chick for myself, and I’m choosing this one,” he stated, twisting Ikkaku’s arm a little tighter. “Feisty bitches like her tend to last longer, after all.”

“Yes, yes, she’s all yours. And since I’ve got the chance to make the famous Cat Thief my star attraction, well, I guess Trafalgar won’t be getting either of you back after all,” the thin man snickered, eyes locking onto Nami. “You cost me a lot of money yesterday, bitch, so it’s a good thing men will be lining up around the block for the chance say they nailed Cat Thief Nami.”

Unfortunately for the black market mogul, Ikkaku and Nami weren’t going to let that happen. The navigator quickly drew her Clima-Tact, blasting a heavy gust of wind at Jinzo and the two armed guards by the door. Meanwhile, Ikkaku bashed her head back against Mandōreku’s face; there was a sickening crack as his nose crumpled against the Heart Pirate’s skull. With her captor’s grip sufficiently loosened, she pulled away enough to slam her heel into his groin, forcing him to fully release her. Leaping forward, she grabbed her discarded gun from the floor, shooting the two thugs right between the eyes before they could recover from Nami’s attack.

“Nami, run!” she shouted, spinning around to slam the heavy hilt of the empty pistol into Mandōreku’s sternum, putting him down for the count.

“Not without you!” the thief shot back, using more wind to launch a few of the glass tables at the waiters to keep them from stepping in. The drug made her legs feel cumbersome and unsteady, taking away some of her natural agility and making real combat difficult, but her determination to not be made a sex slave at least kept her head clear.

“I’m right behind you,” Ikkaku assured, though it was undercut by the way she stumbled as a stray thug took a swing at her. Most of the men in the club weren’t armed, having not expected much of a fight from a bunch of incapacitated women, but this one had been smarter than most, grabbing a shard of glass to use as an improvised knife. He managed to get in a lucky hit and slash Ikkaku across her ribs, the deep cut immediately pouring blood down her silver dress.

“Damn it, don’t damage the merchandise,” Jinzo shouted. Nami dimly realized that was why the guards weren’t shooting at them, and why the waiters were so lightly armed—they wanted the girls alive and with minimal injuries to clean up. Wounded whores probably wouldn’t go for much, and if Jinzo was being so stingy with money, he wouldn’t want to waste his cash on medical expenses.

Using her opponent’s momentum against him, Ikkaku managed to knock the heavy thug head-first into the marble bar, putting him down for the count. “Nami, get out and find Law!”

Nami refused to leave her friend, though. Turning quickly, the navigator blasted Jinzo and his goons with another gust of wind, a storm of bottles, broken tables, and martini glasses shattering in their faces. Taking advantage of the distraction, the pair of women dashed out the door, with Ikkaku pausing just long enough to grab the two dead guards’ rifles.

Unfortunately, that burst of energy didn’t last long, especially for the injured Heart Pirate, and they were forced to duck into a dark side-alley only a block away. “Nami…” she panted, crumpling to the ground, “find Law.”

“I said—”

“Find him and bring him back,” she wheezed. “It’s not a deep cut, but aphrodisiacs stimulate blood flow, so if I keep running, I risk bleeding out.”

“Fuck,” Nami whimpered.

Forcing herself up into a kneeling position, Ikkaku rested the muzzle of one of the stolen rifles on a trashcan. “I’ll hide here; pick off any sons of bitches that try to follow you. But you need to get Law now.”

“But the drug—”

“The longer we stand around talking, the more blood I lose and the less clear your head’s going to be. Now go!”

Though she hated to leave her friend to potentially fend off a bunch of vicious thugs by herself, Nami knew she was right—they needed Law, since he could remove the drug from their systems, fix Ikkaku up, and slice Jinzo and his men to bits. Casting her Mirage Tempo to render herself invisible, the navigator sprinted through the winding alleys back towards Ruby 8, silently praying Law was still there. How long had it even been since she’d left? An hour? Two?

A helpless whimper bubbled up in her throat as Nami darted down another foggy street. Could she not go one day on Grimm without some drug fucking with her system?! What was worse was that the longer she ran, the harder it became to think. The aphrodisiac’s effects were becoming more pronounced, from the way heat pooled in her lower belly as her thighs rubbed together to the delicious way the soft material of her dress slid over her sensitive skin.

The cool air wasn’t quite as effective at clearing her head this time—if anything, it just made her nipples pebble harder, and the slight breeze against her exposed flesh reminded her far too much of the way Law would let his breath tickle her neck and ears.

She needed to find him. Law could rescue Ikkaku. Could remove the drug from her system. Could cure the ache inside her with those wicked lips and dexterous hands—

Collapsing against a brick wall, she slapped herself in hopes of knocking that thought from her head. She couldn’t let the drug distract her from her mission! She needed to get to Ruby 8 and find Law so he…

Whatever plan she’d been formulating vanished from her head the second she heard a deep, smooth voice in the distance. “It should be a couple blocks away. Haiko-ya says Jinzo’s new brothel is slated to open in a few days—let’s see if we can get a sneak peek and draw him out for a chat.”

“We aiming to kill, Captain?” Jean Bart’s voice asked.

“No. Capture him unharmed if possible. I’d hate for Drake-ya to think I have no faith in his torture abilities.”

Despite the cruel words, Nami nearly cried in relief as Law strolled around the corner, the other Heart Pirates in tow. Focus solely on the dangerous captain, she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around his chest and pressing her trembling figure flush against him.

Law stumbled back a few steps, clearly unprepared for an assault from the invisible woman, and Nami felt his muscles tense as he activated his Room. “What the fuck—”

God, even though he was pissed and ready to attack her, his voice was like molten honey. “Law,” she murmured breathily, clinging to his blazer and breathing in his spicy cologne. The masculine scent made her mouth water.

“Nami-ya?” he asked, awkwardly patting where he presumed her head was. “What are you doing wandering around Grimm’s back alleys alone for? Again?” he growled.

The way his chest rumbled with every word enticed her to slip her hands inside the jacket to run her palms across the taut muscles. “I was looking for you,” she cooed breathily, mind fogged with lust. He sounded so mad. Was he going to punish her? Spank her for being a bad girl and disobeying his orders?

“Why are you invisible?”

“And where’s Ikkaku?” Penguin chimed in, brow furrowing beneath his hat in concern.

Why was she invisible? Law needed to see her to touch her, right? He’d want to see her hot and aching for him; see that she needed him so badly. Absently, she dropped the Mirage Tempo before shifting her focus to undoing the buttons of Law’s shirt. She wanted to see those tattoos up close, to trace them with her tongue—

Firm hands grabbed her wrists, yanking them away from her prize. “Nami-ya, what the fuck are you doing?” Law snapped. “Are you drunk? Where’s Ikkaku?”

Why was he asking about another woman? Did he secretly have a thing for Ikkaku?

…wait, she was planning on telling him about Ikkaku, though. Something about her being with someone…

“Ikkaku’s waiting for…a man,” she moaned, eyelids lowered as she pushed herself onto her tiptoes to brush a kiss across the exposed skin of his throat. Her mind was fuzzy, the anxiousness she’d been feeling hard to hold onto when the man she wanted was right there.

“We need more information than ‘a man’, Nami,” Penguin groused, subtly shifting closer, ready to pull her off his captain if needed. All the Heart Pirates knew Law could handle himself against one slight woman, especially since her intent was clearly more amorous than murderous, but they also knew her behavior was far from normal.

Law, for his part, softly groaned as Nami teasingly swiped her tongue across the dip of his exposed collarbone. “Nami-ya, your timing for this really couldn’t be worse.”

“Don’t you want me, Law-kun?” she mewled, pressing her soft breasts to his chest as she rolled her hips against his hardening cock. Really, he’d been teasing her for nearly three months! If it had all been some kind of joke and he left her wanting now, she was sure she’d go mad!

“Obviously, but right now—” Law cut himself off as he finally got a good look at her eyes. Releasing one of her wrists to grab her chin, he peered down into the electric blue orbs. “Fuck. She’s taken uranos.”

Shachi’s eyes widened behind his sunglasses. “Shit, Boss, you’ve gotta get it out of her!”

“Wait, did Ikkaku take it, too?” Penguin asked, grabbing Nami’s shoulder. “Nami, did she—”

Moaning, Nami leaned into the touch. His hand wasn’t as satisfyingly rough as Law’s, but it still felt so good to be touched…

Her euphoria was broken as she was unceremoniously jerked away, both of her wrists captured by one of Law’s large hands and yanked above her head. He took special care to hold her away from his body, basically dangling in front of him, leaving her nothing to rub herself against for stimulus. Needy and impatient, she jerked and writhed in his clutches, legs flailing to try and hook around his hips, but he clumsily dodged, determined to keep the thief at arm’s length.

“Nami-ya, I’m not letting you go until you tell me where my engineer is.”

“Please~” she whimpered, thrashing about, desperately trying to get any kind of stimulation. Her panties were soaked through and her breasts demanded to be touched. She imagined the hand restraining her was replaced with handcuffs—that way, he’d still have her exposed and helpless, but he’d be free to run his hot palms down her sides, caressing and squeezing her luscious curves as he got down on his knees and showed her what that wicked mouth of his could do to her dripping cunt.

“Law, we don’t have time to play around! You know that stuff’s addictive! If Ikkaku—”

A harsh glare from the captain cut off Penguin’s complaints. “I know, idiot. We’ll find her.” Turning back to the captive thief, he studied her intently, though there was an anxious edge to his normally confident tone. “Nami-ya, I know you’re stronger than this. If Ikkaku’s in trouble, I need you to tell me.”

“She’s…” she trailed off, having the hardest time concentrating on anything other than the way his gold eyes shone in the dim light of the alley.

“Focus, Nami-ya. She wouldn’t have let you wander around alone. Is Ikkaku in danger?”

Though the salacious fog encasing her brain was thick, Law’s words and the sudden memory of her friend bleeding but ready to snipe down the men who’d attacked them managed to poke the smallest holes through, allowing her enough clarity to groan, “Drugged…Jinzo.”

“I’m going to make that bastard suffer,” Law growled. “Where are they?”

But the self-control the navigator had regained was washed away by a hot wave of lust. God, Law sounded so fucking hot when he was mad. So powerful and dangerous. She wanted him to throw her down and growl like that in her ear while he took her roughly, make her beg and scream while he pinned her to the wall, telling her all the dirty things he planned to do with her.

“Tell me where she is, damn it!” he snapped, shaking her slightly.

Her only response was to bite her lip and moan shamelessly as she arched her back, thrusting out her chest in hopes of enticing him to lean in and wrap his lips around one of the straining peaks.

Realizing his orders weren’t getting him anywhere, Law changed tactics. Carefully, he pulled her in but left just enough space between their bodies so she still couldn’t get the contact she was obviously desperate for. “Nami-ya,” he purred in her ear, hot lips tauntingly brushing against the sensitive cartilage, “tell me where Ikkaku is and I’ll give you exactly what you need.”

That was an offer her aching body couldn’t refuse. “Venus…cl-club…three blocks west…please…”

“Thank you, Nami-ya,” he murmured, wrapping his arm around her waist as he finally released her wrists. Eagerly, Nami buried her fingers in his thick hair and yanked him down for an intense, desperate kiss, moaning in relief as his lips slanted across hers. The pleasure was short-lived, however, as a sharp jolt to the back of her neck made her body go limp and black creep into her vision.

As unconsciousness overwhelmed her, she felt Law’s lips part from hers just enough to whisper, “Sorry about this, Nami-ya, but it’s for your own good…”

[smrwine]

For the fourth time within the hour, Louis found himself dodging the sight of his flatmate's prick that always seemed to invade his personal space. For as long as Louis had known him, Harry has lounged around their flat bare chest and pantless with only a loose pair of trackies to keep himself decent. He walked into every room cock first and adjusted himself in his jeans frequently. He wasn’t shy about regularly mentioning his size or mentioning that he knew what to do with it either. Whether it be a joke or a humble brag, Harry was seemingly always determined to always remind Louis of his thick, daunting, length, and Louis didn’t mind one bit

“Come on, Lou, just try it.”

Harry had his whipped cream coated fingertip held out towards Louis’ lips, and his sweatpant covered cock not too far away. Louis leaned further back into the sofa, as far as he could without being swallowed.

“Get away. It’s on your finger, it’s going to taste like you.”

“I washed my hands before this, babe. Come on, it won’t be so bad - there’s cinnamon in it! I haven’t made this kind for you to try yet.”

Louis’ stomach tingled. The thought of Harry frequently baking for him, and him alone, always did his head in. It was an endlessly thoughtful gesture. Louis couldn’t pinpoint exactly the first time Harry filled him up with sweets, but he hasn’t stopped since, and every weekend began with a new sugary treat.

Harry lifted his finger towards Louis’ lips once more, encouraging him to have a taste of the cinnamon whipped cream. Louis figured it was the least he could do. Tasting his sweets was all Harry ever asked of him and he never expected anything more. It would be quick and simple, really, but his unearthly crush and desire to suck his cock made him reconsider.

If he took Harry’s finger into his mouth he just might choke on it. The only thing comparable to the size of Harry’s cock was the size of his hands, and Louis has wanted to suck on both of them, more than a dozen times. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to quit. Just one taste surely wouldn’t be enough to satisfy the thirst he so desperately contained within, but he wanted it.

Without actually thinking, Louis dropped his mouth wide open, letting his eager tongue catch the very tip of Harry’s finger.

“How is it?”

The cinnamon whipped cream was rich, airy, and sweet, but the way Harry pushed his finger in further, deeper, was sweeter. Louis’ lips wrapped around the warm digit for a moment too long before his tongue licked him clean. There was no mistaking he had gone too far, and he realized that as he pulled off with a slurp. But seeing Harry’s cock twitch in the fabric of his trackies almost made his overindulgence worthwhile.

“It’s sweet,”

Louis caught sight of Harry’s dick jumping again only this time Harry adjusted himself rudely, right before Louis’ eyes with the entire palm of his hand. No apology followed.

“It’s—it’s alright. Good enough for me.”

“Only, good enough?” he smirked. “I can do better than that for you. Stay right there.”

Louis watched as Harry walked back towards their kitchenette, cock bobbing beneath his trackies. His chest swelled with heat and desire as he soon felt his own pleasurable throb between his legs.

Harry would feel so nice inside of him, he thought. His cock would be just thick enough to burn as he split Louis open, and his length was surely ample enough to deeply penetrate and satisfy. Louis knew he’d be a meticulous lover too. Always gentle when necessary and otherwise rough where Louis needed it.

A crushing weight draped across his shoulders as rational thinking reminded him of their status. Harry was his flatmate who paid bills on time and cleaned up after himself. He was too perfect. Louis couldn’t risk losing that over a hard on and a thirst for his cock.

It was about time he got laid and got Harry out of his system.

—

Swiping through profiles turned out to be awful.

Louis was seeking something a bit more straightforward than what men on a dating app had to offer. Dinner and a film would be nice any other night, but he was gagging to be fucked senseless with no strings attached, and minimal courting. Bars and clubs were out of the question as well. Louis was far too shy to put himself out there physically and sneak someone back with him while Harry was still home, and still awake.

There was only one option he had left that he’d been avoiding relentlessly. The infamous hookup app. Straightforward. Discreet. Everything Louis needed.

He was hesitant about its nature, however. Meeting a stranger in such a way surely had its drawbacks and he knew he wouldn’t be able to trust someone with mere screen to screen communication. There would have to be firm rules set in place if he was to go through with this. One being to meet the other person in a public space beforehand, and two for them to be absolutely hung.

Louis bit the bullet, uploading a profile picture that highlighted his best assets, and kept his real name and location hidden. Straightforward enough.

Nerves bubbled to the surface as the home page loaded and dozens upon dozens of profiles popped up. If he was ever going to shake the crush on his flatmate, now was the time, and as he scrolled through the endless sea of dick prints and faces, he tried not to think about him.

—

“So you’re meeting him here then?”

Louis couldn’t focus. The message sent to him via the notorious app played on a loop in his mind, and kept him planted in reality. Be there in a bit x, read the text. Louis hadn’t even asked for the lads name, or even seen his face, yet he was ready and willing to meet up with him at his best mates pub. All for a shag.

He had never done anything risky like this. It was absolutely mad. As soon as Louis scrolled past the lads profile - dick print clear in his grey trackies as his picture - Louis knew he found the one.

Please ruin my life

I’ll ruin more than just that. x

The back and forth carried on filthily. Louis admitted to his desire of a thorough dicking that was also short term and discreet, and the lad on the other side was into the idea as well. Louis figured the overtly slutty language he used helped convince him.

“Louis!” Liam, his mate, hollered from the opposite side of the counter.

“Christ—what?”

“You didn’t answer me, are you meeting him here, or did you just come here for a humble brag?”

“I’m meeting him here, Liam. Believe it or not I trust your judgement and if you think I’m about to get into bed with a massive slag, I’d like for you to stop me.”

Liam gave him a puzzled look and paused before seriously answering him.

“Do you hear yourself right now? Like, genuinely, do you hear what you’re asking of me?”

Louis chose to ignore him in favor of watching the digital clock tick away on his phone. His palms calmed up as he scrolled through day old notifications and noticed a new one that simply read, here. It was sent a minute ago, and Louis suddenly felt intense, awful, palpitations in his chest. Overwhelming regret.

His mouth went dry, his stomach sloshed around with a heavy feeling of dread, and he couldn’t escape the guilty ringing in his ears. All of this effort just to rid a crush wouldn’t work, and he knew that. Harry wasn’t just someone he could forget about with an anonymous shag.

Louis considered bolting.

“Lou?”

Behind him came a familiar honey voice. The same one that sent shivers down his spine on the daily.

“Harry?” he turned, feeling even more mortified than before. “What are you doing here, love?”

Harry crowded into his space, taking Louis into his arms and pressing him firmly into his chest. It was quick and fleeting, and didn’t last nearly as long as Louis needed.

“I’m...uh, I’m here to meet someone. I’m trying something new, sort of.”

“Oh…”

Louis’ heart sank all together again.

“Harry?” Liam cut in from behind the bar. “The chivalrous flatmate Louis can’t stop chatting about?”

“Yeah, I believe that’s me. I hope it is.”

“I’m Liam. Nice to finally meet you, mate. I’ve heard loads of great things from this one over here.”

Louis was in pain. His face burned with pin pricks and tingles, and his stomach rumbled with embarrassment. Liam certainly knew how to make matters far worse without being asked.

“S’good to meet you too.” Harry responded politely. “What are you doing here then, Lou? Are you alone?”

Louis swallowed hard as Harry moved in closer and cornered him against the bar. His clean, musky, scent encompassed the small space between them, and Louis had to bury down a whine.

“Yeah, I’m actually meeting someone here too. I figured Liam’s pub was a safe enough space but I think I’m getting cold feet or summat, I don’t know.”

Louis overshared and let his guilt get the best of him. Even though Harry made it clear he was here for the same reason, Louis felt like he was betraying him in a way.

“I don’t think I can do this.”

Louis pulled out his phone and opened the app as Harry distanced himself by a foot. Part of Louis just wanted to leave without warning, but the other part knew he owed it to whoever it was to tell him he was leaving.

It hurt to type out his cancellation. His ego and embarrassment nearly swallowed him whole, but he followed through and sent it off anyway. It was a foolish idea to begin with.

Just as Louis pocketed his mobile, Harry’s own pinged with a notification, and Liam giggled from the other side of the counter.

“What?” Louis asked sharply.

“You’re idiots.” he shook his head. “Both of you.”

Louis watched him walk off into the back area until he disappeared around a corner, then slowly looked back at Harry. His face was painted pale and shaken like he’d seen a ghost or received a hard truth. His shoulders were rigid and his mouth was dropped in disbelief.

Louis gawked, weak in the knees.

“You?” he asked a bit breathy. “Is it you?”

Harry nodded, turning his mobile to show Louis’ words repeated back to him.

“What—you hid your name! You didn’t even have a picture up of your face—“

“Neither did you! You even had your location hidden and didn’t answer me when I asked for your name—”

“I was trying to keep all of that private, Harry! Christ. Were you planning on bringing the person in those messages back to ours?”

“Were you?”

Louis clasped his hands to his chest. The sound of blood rushing in his ears.

“Well...no,” he answered. “I-I really didn’t expect to even go through with this. I just sort of went through the motions until I felt guilty enough to stop it. I didn’t want you to know.”

“I didn’t want you to know about this either.”

“Why did you do it then?”

“Why did you?”

Louis groaned. Everything he was questioning, Harry could ask the same, and the entire mess of a situation couldn’t be pinned to either one of them.

“I wanted to get you out of my system.” Louis answered, letting the uncomfortable truth consume him. “You quite literally walk around the flat with your cock out, and you bake for me, and you’re sweet, and I knew I’d never be able to just have you once, so I figured I’d get a shag in and be done with it. I didn’t want to be that flatmate, but. M’sorry.”

“Louis,” Harry laughed, slightly defeated. “D’you know why I do all of that? Why I purposely drive you mad daily?”

“...no.”

“The first time we ever met, before moving in, you told me you had a massive sweet tooth. A rotten one, really. You said you loved your cakes and fruit tarts, but simple chocolate biscuits were your favourite. Do you remember that?”

“I—vaguely, yeah.”

“I went home that night and taught myself how to bake chocolate biscuits. I never baked before that, but after your initial reaction, I didn’t want to stop.”

Louis couldn’t help his growing smile even as he attempted to smother it. His own embarrassment still sat heavy in his chest, but Harry soothed it with his kind words and adorably honest truth. Louis could barely look up through the flattery.

“And then when we moved in together, you described your ideal partner as nice, fit, and hung, and I always did my best to remind you, that I am in fact, all three.”

Louis snickered as he stepped forward.

“You’re always so sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

“You said you like them a bit cocky too.”

“Goodness, Harry. Do you pay that close attention to everything I say?”

“I do,” he pulled Louis in closer to mumble in his ear, hand on his hip. “especially all the naughty things you sent to me last night. Had I known it was you, I would’ve had you right there on the sofa.”

Louis bit his lip as Harry circled his hips with his hands, slowly caressing up and under his shirt. It felt nice. Every last tingle.

“I don’t want anyone else,” he rushed out. “This was a stupid idea. So stupid, I—”

“I know, baby. I’m sorry. I don’t want anyone else either. I don’t want to ruin this again.”

“Let’s go home and get it right then.”

—

Clothes ridden and desire turned frantic, Louis sank to his knees at the foot of his bed, kissing his way down Harry’s naked torso. He nibbled just above his waistline. Nuzzled his face against his thighs. His senses were overwhelmed in musk and lust as he nosed over Harry’s hard cock and kissed his underside selfishly.

Harry groaned out a tortured sigh as he continued kiss after kiss. Louis was already lost in it. For months, he dreamed of feeling the warmth and smoothness of his cock on his lips, and feeling Harry grow hard beneath them. He had to touch himself to keep him tethered.

Louis felt a hand comb through his hair, then a gentle tug. He moaned around the pain. Harry was watching him with amorous eyes and a hand wrapped around his prick.

“You love this,” he teased. “You’ve wanted my big cock for so long.”

Louis whimpered as Harry traced his tip over his lips and shoved it in ever so slightly. As Louis greedily went to suck, Harry pulled out, and drew another helpless whine from from the boy before him. Louis dropped his mouth open, hoping Harry would give him what he wanted, but instead, he traced around his lips again, then to his chin, then to his cheeks. Louis desperately chased with his tongue, hoping to get a taste as Harry rubbed along his face. At most, he earned a lick here and a kiss there yet the arousal between his legs only grew.

“Gorgeous.”

Harry slid the hand in Louis’ hair down to his jaw and hinged open his mouth with careful fingers. Louis stuck his tongue out, red lips eager, eyes open and waiting. He shivered as Harry tapped his tip repeatedly against his tongue and slid his wet slit against it.

Bitter and warm. Salty and desirable. Louis was steadily engulfed in his flavor and driven mad by his own thirst for it.

“God, just use me,” he moaned sinfully as he swirled his tongue around for more. “Fucking—Christ. Just fuck my throat, please.”

“Shh.”

Harry hushed him and instead bent down for a kiss. The motion of their lips was languid and Harry carefully caressed the flushed skin of Louis’ chest. The kiss was grounding and sweet, and sensual without being invasive. Harry’s careful touches steadied Louis’ breathing and brought him back down to a sense of calm. He didn’t realize he was shaking until Harry soothed him.

“Just suck me for a bit. Yeah?”

With kiss wet lips, Louis listened. His hands wrapped where his throat couldn’t reach and he bobbed and twisted slowly with ease. The length of Harry’s cock slid against his tongue and filled his mouth with hulky warmth that throbbed with precome. Louis swallowed hard around him and hollowed out his cheeks expertly. He moved his hands to fondle Harry’s balls, hoping that he would fall forward and give his mouth a proper fucking.

Harry indulged a few times. The stutter of his hips teased the back of Louis’ throat, but never went far enough to choke. Louis wished he would. He supposed he would have to work harder.

“Fuck, Lou. So good.”

Harry swore under his breath repeatedly as he grabbed a fistful of Louis hair and tugged ever so slightly.

Louis purposely moaned around him, wanting to get Harry off as he kept bobbing his head and curled his lips tighter. He watched as Harry’s knees buckled and was anticipating a mouthful of pleasure, or a hip thrust to his throat, but was suddenly swept up as Harry pulled out and lifted Louis off his knees.

“Bed.”

Harry pulled him by the wrist over towards the sheets and laid Louis flat out on his back. Before he could even react, a pillow was shoved beneath his hips and a hand was carefully wrapped around his neck. Harry’s thumb caressed Louis’ jaw and his gaze was nothing short of adoring. Louis breathed as deeply and evenly as he could with Harry splayed over him .

“You were so good, sucking me off. But I’d rather come inside you, babe.” he said in a whisper. “I want to watch those pretty blue eyes roll back as I split you open. Yeah? Would you like that? D’you want to come apart on my cock alone?”

“Please, Harry.”

“No, no. Answer me, angel—“

“Yes! God, yes, I’ve waited too long for your prick. Give it to me.”

Harry laughed under his breath at Louis’ impatience and kissed him firm on the lips. Louis spread his legs open as Harry coated his fingers - hooking one of his legs over his shoulder. He kissed against Louis’ shin, then his calve, all the way down to the side of his knee.

The way his lips dotted his skin tickled just enough to distract Louis from the slick pressure that thrust its way past his entrance. Harry kissed down further, sinking his teeth into his supple thigh. Their eye contact remained unbroken.

Louis moaned around a bitten lip as Harry pushed inward and out. His second finger teased around the first.

“Get your cock in me,” Louis begged. “I want it now, please. Need to feel you.”

Harry ignored him and kept his stare hard. A second finger thrust into Louis’ hole and his big eager eyes finally rolled to a close. Harry snickered, pleased with himself, and kept up the unrelenting pace that made Louis squirm.

“You sure about that? Looks like you can barely handle two.”

Louis wiggled frantically beneath him and thrust himself down onto Harry’s fingers. The burn of the stretch was mildly present but it wasn’t enough to overshadow the waves of pleasure it brought on. Harry stroked his walls carefully and pressed the sensitive angle inside of him all whilst smirking against Louis’ leg. Louis silently clenched around Harry’s fingers, mouth hung open in pure arousal.

Harry didn’t budge on taking his time. Louis begged, whimpered, and withered into the rustled sheets until his belly was soaked with precome and his legs shook with need. Harry made sure his fingers slid in with ease and just for a brief, teasing, second, let his eager tongue fit alongside them.

The head of his protected cock pressed slowly into Louis - unsurprisingly more of a stretch than his fingers. Louis took it in deep breaths. He moaned around already full feeling and tensed his whole body as Harry sank further.

“You’re doing great—“ Harry panted. “You feel so good like this, fuck. So tight. M’not likely to last.”

“Shut up, shut up, just fuck me. Please.”

“So eager,” Harry spoke breathlessly. Winded. “I’ve wanted this just as long as you have, baby. Let me get it right for you.”

Louis thought to respond but was muffled by Harry’s slick lips as he slowly but steadily slipped all the way in. Hips to bum and a deafening groan from the two of them. Louis mostly laid there stiff, attempting to catch his breath. Harry soothed him in form of forehead kisses and soft encouragements. He reminded Louis to inhale deeply and exhale through his mouth.

Harry was just so big and thick, it was hard for him to do anything but whine and strain. Louis had never been as full and stretched as he was right then.

“S-so bi—move a bit, please.”

With careful motions and a watchful eye, Harry pulled back and gently thrust back forward. The movement alone was enough for Louis to see stars and become one with his pleasure. As he encouraged Harry to continue, the thrusts grew harder and the pounding eased into faster. Louis nearly missed out on Harry tossing his other leg over his shoulder until he was genuinely folded in half. His thighs squeezed tight around Harry until both were coming and both were panting uncontrollably into each other’s mouths.

They came down eventually, breath steady, and thoughts less clouded in a sex haze. Harry pulled out with all the tender ease and gathered Louis in his arms.

“I want you and only you. I want this for us.”

“Mmm, I want that too.” Harry moaned as he wrapped Louis tighter. “No more hookup apps for you and me.”