#i don't gif for a few weeks and immediately forget HOW

[kikimurphys]

Behind Closed Doors (Part 17)

Pairing: Cillian x Y/N

You choked on your water when you heard her name. "Fuck," you thought, panic seeping in. You were about to meet Cillian's sister—right now. Anxiety washed over you as your mind raced. What if she thought you were just a gold digger after her brother's money? Meeting Cillian's family had always been one of your biggest worries.

Orla stood at the door, waiting for Cillian to greet her, but he seemed to freeze in place.

"What's wrong, Cill?" she asked, noticing his odd reaction.

"Nothing, sorry. Hi, Orla. How are ya?" He quickly recovered, giving her a kiss on the cheek and closing the door behind her.

She carried a few boxes and bags as she made her way to the kitchen. "I'm just passing by to drop this off," she said, placing them on the counter nearest to the kitchen door. "And I bought this set of curtains for Mum and Da, but I don't know if they—" She suddenly noticed you sitting at the kitchen counter and paused, recognition dawning on her face. "Oh, hi," she greeted you with a warm smile as she walked over.

"Orla, this is Y/N. She’s on bed rest, so she's staying with me," Cillian explained, his tone firm, making it clear that you were important to him.

"Why? Are you okay?" Orla asked, concern lacing her voice as she leaned on the table. Her sweet demeanor and well-mannered approach immediately put you at ease. You could tell she was genuinely kind, much like Cillian.

"Yeah, I was hospitalized last week," you began, placing a hand on your belly. "I had some bleeding, but we're okay now. I just have to move as little as possible."

Orla’s eyes softened as she looked at you. "Oh, I’m so sorry. Glad you're well now. Bed rest’s the worst, especially when you get that insane need to nest in the third trimester. Those urges are no joke," she said, raising her hands for emphasis, making you laugh at her playful tone.

There was a brief, awkward silence as the three of you stood in the kitchen, unsure of what to say next. 

“Well," Orla finally broke the silence, patting the boxes she had dropped off. "I was just passing by to leave these. Don’t forget to take them to Cork,” she said, gesturing to the boxes, before handing Cillian the curtains. “And here, what do you think of these? Do you think Mum and Da will like them?” she asked, her expression a little more serious now.

"They're okay, I suppose," Cillian replied with a shrug, clearly not too fussed about curtain shopping. Orla rolled her eyes at his lackluster response, amused by her brother’s indifference.

"Alright, I’m headed off," Orla said, reaching for her coat.

"We were just about to have dinner, if you want to join," Cillian offered, sensing that this could be a good opportunity for you to spend more time with her. "I'm making chicken curry."

"You know what, Cill?" Orla smiled as she settled beside you, pouring herself a glass of wine. "I could go for some of that chicken you make."

As she took a sip of her drink, she turned to you with a curious smile. “So, how far along are you?”

“Almost 22 weeks,” you replied, feeling a bit more comfortable now.

“Ah, halfway already! Do you know what you’re having?” she asked, excitement lighting up her face.

“A girl,” Cillian chimed in from the stove, turning to you both with a proud smile.

“Oh, they’re the best! I had my Nina last year, and it’s so different than having boys,” Orla said warmly.

“How’s baby Nina?” Cillian asked, his eyes softening at the mention of his niece, who was nearly 10 months old.

“She’s exhausting,” Orla sighed dramatically, making both you and Cillian laugh. “She just learned how to get off the bed, and now I can’t close my eyes for a second without her disappearing.”

The evening flowed pleasantly after that. Orla shared stories and showed you pictures of her baby, and you got a glimpse of just how close she and Cillian were. His gentle care for his sister warmed your heart, and the easy dynamic between them made you feel more at ease.

After dinner, fatigue began to weigh on you, and Cillian noticed immediately. He offered to prepare the guest room for you, knowing that it hadn’t been decorated or lived in yet. You thanked him as he left to make the bed, his attentiveness leaving you feeling cared for.

Once Cillian was out of earshot, Orla leaned in closer with a playful, curious smile. “So, how’s my brother been treating you?” she whispered, her tone filled with interest.

You smiled softly. “He’s been very attentive and has helped me so much. He’s a good guy,” you said, genuinely grateful for Cillian’s care.

Orla raised an eyebrow slightly. “And are you two not together then?” she asked, her eyes flicking to the separate room where you'd be sleeping. “I don’t want to be invasive, but Cillian mentioned the situation…”

“No, it’s okay,” you reassured her, appreciating her honesty. “To be honest, I don’t really know,” you added with a small laugh. “We’re taking it slow... just taking our time.”

Orla nodded, understanding. “That makes sense,” she said gently.

“I’m just staying here so he can take care of me if anything happens until my sister arrives. I don’t want to take up too much of his time,” you explained, feeling the need to be transparent.

Orla gave you a knowing look and smiled. “You don’t have to worry about that. Cillian wouldn’t offer if he didn’t want to be there for you. He’s always been a bit of a caretaker, especially for those he cares about.”

Orla’s smile softened as she leaned back slightly, swirling the wine in her glass. “You know,” she began thoughtfully, “even if you two don’t end up together, that baby girl of yours... she’s still part of this family.” Her eyes flickered warmly toward your belly. “And we’ll love her no matter what.”

You blinked, a wave of emotion rushing through you at her words. It was the first time someone from Cillian’s family had said anything about the baby, and hearing that acceptance brought a sense of relief. 

“She’s going to be surrounded by love,” Orla continued, her tone filled with sincerity. “You, Cillian, and the rest of us. Family isn’t always about how things start, but about how you come together in the end. And believe me, we’re here for both of you, no matter what happens between you and my brother.”

Her reassurance eased a knot in your chest that you didn’t realize had been building. “Thank you,” you said quietly, feeling a surge of gratitude. “I’ve been so worried about what people would think... that maybe they’d see me as some sort of... I don’t know.”

Orla waved a hand dismissively. “People will always have something to say. But those who matter—the people in this family—we’ll always have your back. And that little girl... she’s going to have an army of people loving her.”

Hearing that made you feel more welcome than you had expected. “I really appreciate that,” you said, your voice soft but sincere. “It means a lot.”

Orla smiled again, this time with a glint of amusement in her eyes. “Plus, you’re stuck with me now—an honorary sister. We’ll spoil her rotten, you just wait.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at her words. All you wanted in the world was for your baby to be happy and grow up in a loving environment.

Just then, you heard Cillian’s footsteps coming down the hall. “What were you two talking about?” he asked, his brow raised slightly as he entered the kitchen.

“Oh, nothing much, just talking behind your back,” Orla teased, shooting her brother a playful grin. Cillian rolled his eyes, used to her antics.

“The bedroom’s all ready for you,” he told you softly. You nodded, feeling your eyelids growing heavier as the night wore on. "Thanks, Cill."

Orla stood up, gathering her things. “Well, I better head off. Gotta tuck the kids in.” She smiled, giving you a quick hug. “Don’t forget to rest, okay?”

“Of course,” you smiled back, sipping the last of your tea.

Orla turned to Cillian, reminding him once again about the package for Cork. “Don’t forget! You’re as forgetful as ever,” she teased.

“What’s that for?” you asked, glancing at the large box she’d mentioned earlier.

“Cutlery and plates for our parents’ anniversary in October,” she replied. “Their 50th. We’re planning it way ahead.”

“You should bring Y/N,” Orla repeated, looking between you and Cillian. “It’ll be the perfect chance for her to meet everyone at once.”

Cillian’s eyes widened, and he shot you a quick, slightly panicked glance. You could feel anxiety bubbling up in your chest, a knot tightening in your stomach. "Oh no, don't worry about me. I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you blurted out, your voice a bit shaky. Your palms were suddenly sweaty. What would his family even think? You were already pregnant and hadn't met them. What if they judged you? You weren't even sure where you stood with Cillian—how would you explain this to them?

Orla quickly picked up on the tension, her smile softening as she placed a reassuring hand on your arm. “Honestly, don’t stress about it,” she said warmly, sensing your worry. “There’s plenty of time to decide, no pressure. Just something to keep in mind.” She gave you a comforting smile before turning to Cillian, pulling him into a hug as she said her goodbyes.

Cillian moved to the sink to wash up as you quietly made your way to bed. While he scrubbed the dishes, your mind raced. *Would he really want you to meet his family?* You still felt insecure, unsure of your place in his life. Despite all his efforts to show he cared, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you didn’t belong, especially with the baby on the way. He already had a family, a whole life. Sometimes, you felt like an outsider. Or worse, like you were intruding on something that wasn’t meant to be yours.

Meanwhile, Cillian’s thoughts were completely different. As he washed up, the idea of you meeting his family filled him with joy. He could picture you with your baby, surrounded by nephews and cousins, fitting right into the warm, lively chaos that he loved so much. You’d bring a new light into his world, one that had dimmed over the years. You’d made him feel alive again. But he didn’t want to push you. He’d let the idea sit for now, give you time to decide. 

Later, lying in bed, you rubbed belly butter over your growing bump, your mind drifting. The realization that your body would never be the same hit you hard. You wouldn’t say it out loud, but you were terrified. The stretch marks, the weight gain—it all scared you more than you let on.

Cillian, meanwhile, was fussing over the curtains, trying to make the room feel cozier. The space had been bare when you first arrived, just a bed and a mattress. He’d worked tirelessly to make sure you were comfortable, and now he was determined to block out the morning sun.

“Cill, it’s okay,” you laughed softly, watching him work. “I can do that tomorrow. You’ve got work in the morning.”

He shook his head stubbornly, finishing up with the curtains. “No, I don’t want you waking up with the sun in your face at 7 a.m.,” he replied, focused on getting it right.

You grinned, amused by his overprotectiveness. It was a little over the top, but sweet. You felt lucky that he was going to be the father of your child. Once he finished, he stood back, hands on his hips, looking at you with a smitten expression. Seeing you lying there, belly growing with his child, no makeup, just real and vulnerable—it melted his heart.

“All done,” he sighed, dusting off his hands.

“Thanks,” you said, your voice softer now. “Do you have to leave early for work?”

“Yeah, but I should be back by lunchtime,” he replied.

“Well, I’ll let you sleep then,” he said, turning to leave, but something made you stop him.

“Cill?” you called softly. He turned back to you, walking closer.

“Yeah?” he asked gently.

“Thank you,” you said, reaching for his hand, your voice filled with sincerity. “For letting me stay here, for being so good to me. And Orla, too. I was really scared to meet her, but she was so nice. I’m really grateful.”

He smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. “You don’t have to thank me for any of that,” he murmured. “Goodnight.”

Your heart fluttered at the softness of his touch, and almost as if in response, the baby kicked. She always seemed to know when you were nervous around him. “Goodnight,” you whispered, rolling over and closing your eyes. The sound of Cillian moving around the house was oddly soothing, and before long, you drifted into sleep.

Cillian went to his room and changed into his pajamas, but after tossing and turning for almost an hour, he gave up on trying to sleep. He padded softly into the living room, careful not to wake you. Opening your door just a crack, he peeked in. You were fast asleep, soft snores escaping your lips, and he couldn’t help but smile. 

He closed the door gently, grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen, and settled on the couch. Turning the TV on with the volume barely audible, he let the low hum of some sitcom wash over him, hoping it would help him fall asleep.

tags:

@mamawiggers1980 @xsweetcatastrophe @galactict3a @thistheivyseason @cillianmurphyvevo @sweetcheesecakesblog

[dinaur]

JOOHONEY, KIHYUN, MINHYUK

↳ 230112 Mnet Comeback Stage

[pix-writes]

Stanford Pines relationship HCs

(ford pines x reader) there will be smut so, 18+ below... Some angst, mainly fluff, I HC that most if not all of the pines family are neurodivergent in some way.

A/N: I had a long journey last week and all I could think about was the stans, so this will become specific... 😅 Will do the same for Stanley too in the future.

Ford has a lot to catch up on when he comes back through the portal, but he won't jump into a relationship immediately, it will still take a little time, he's got a lot to adjust to in his home dimension and being with someone has not been his forte.

But once he does he's surprisingly clingy, will want to cuddle up to you, in bed, on the couch, wherever you both are. Not one for real PDA, but will be close to you and call you terms of endearment out in public, just a little less than he does at home. I HC that he'd call his partner "dear" "darling" "honey", looooves your hips and putting his arm around your waist (it's a great way to pull you in to snuggle).

Doesn't hold your hand at first but since you like him to hold your hand and give him assurance over the fact that you like his six fingers, he does. It loosens his insecurities around his hands a lot.

Gets addicted to kissing you, doesn't care whether it leads to more or not, Stanford simply loves kissing whether it's brief or a good long make out session. But he does prefer to take his time over it.

Stanford is very logical, good at patching himself up from decades of portal hopping and therefore will do the same for you if you need it, is meticulous if you get hurt in any way but also has an appalling bedside manner! Doesn't tell you if he's going to do something that will sting and tells you not to be overdramatic if you react negatively to it (you know how people can get a little angry when someone they love gets potentially seriously hurt?). And yet you know him to be a gentle man, generally touches you softly like you're made of glass (unless it's to pull you away from something dangerous), so having him take care of you can also be comforting, he'll never do something painful unless it's necessary. (Don't worry though, his brother will make you stan cakes to cheer you both up.)

Speaking of food, Ford definitely prefers his home universe food to what he had in the other dimensions, tried lots of different unusual dishes, some he even liked, but none of it can compare to his homely comforts. When not sailing and adventuring, he puts on a few pounds. Satiates his sweet tooth and caffeine addiction with mabel juice (is the only other one of the pines to like it), prefers it to coffee. Stanley swears his tastebuds must've been affected during his time away. Doesn't like it with as much edible glitter as mabel does, but this is the only deviation from the original recipe he has.

Excellent teacher, you want to learn how he does something? More than eager to teach you with a steady hand and clear pace. Will teach you regardless how to shoot his laser and magnetic guns, how to defend yourself and how to meditate (if you didn't know these already). Can get into the information and ramble like you know about a topic and then realise (eventually) that he needs to break down or explain what he means.

Despite this he also has a romantic streak, whilst he can forget everything aside from his work or adventures, including important dates, he can also be a very considerate and supportive partner and post-portal wants to include you as much as possible in his life and conversations. You can talk for hours about any and all topics and he loves to be mentally stimulated in a relationship, however that may be.

Does sometimes have nightmares and deep guilt over Stanley and is dealing with it as best as he can, likes to know he can count on you for comfort and guidance, makes him feel less panicked or paranoid after Bill. He and his brother talk things out too and these talks can go on all night into the early morning and it's best for them to have space, Ford is grateful for your patience and willingness to be involved in his life, especially as he knows he wasn't good at opening up to you when you were starting to become friends let alone a relationship.

Ford would be shy at first, but once he gets comfortable with how to pleasure you, expect this man to be kind of obsessed. That absorbing focus he can have on his projects and studies? Yeah that can be transferred to you just as easily, which can be a little intense!

You off-handendly mention something about sexual experiences, perhaps even a joke about things you haven't tried, catching his perplexed look afterwards, you say it's simply fantasy and not really something you need to experience. However what you took for confusion or slight insecurity was actually Ford processing what you said. In fact, it doesn't leave his mind and so he does something he's good at: he does some research 😏

One night you might even wake up from sleep to find him sitting upright, lightly snoring, bedside lamp on, clearly fallen asleep whilst writing on his portable writing desk (it's either a gift from you or the twins, not sure which to choose!), when curiosity gets the better of you and you sneak a page out into your hands, you're faced with his attempts at organising fantasies, what he thinks you would want to try, how would you react to different stimuli or some of his own fantasies... Mainly figuring out how many orgasms he could coax out of you or how long he thinks he could edge you over time, what positions or rp you might like: he's worked it all out in a haphazard kind of way, like he's brainstorming the best approaches.

It's so plan-sexual scientific it's frank but... attractive, because it's so... him.

Whether he wakes up on his own or you wake him up, he ends up blushing, though he's not really sorry that you've found it. He's looking at you with this mix of nerves for how you'll react and new found smugness when he sees that you've been affected by what you've read... And yeah, neither of you are leaving that bed for a long time.

Basically, like a true scientist, he is down to experiment! 😄 He's willing to try anything as long as it's not going to seriously hurt you or it's something he wouldn't try on himself first, this is a boundary he's never willing to cross. Trust and open communication is an important thing for him post-weirdmaggeddon especially, and he's getting better at it as he goes along, so even though he often doesn't feel confident, he is infuriatingly good at aftercare and all the rest!

This means when he's not tripping over his words or flustered by you himself -he can be a damn tease at times and will chuckle to himself when you curse him out for the subtle touches he'll give you over the course of the day before pulling away. Sometimes he doesn't even know he's done it, which is evil.

Stanley will make grumbly jokes about how "you two lovebirds need to get a room!" Or about needing to move out 😅 but honestly he's truly happy his brother is happy and if you get married he will sob the whole time, even through his roasting joke filled best man speech! (Cracks a joke more than once to you that you need to make Ford an "honest man" and then laughs at it himself before whispering to you that he can get the rings if you really want to.)

Will and does suffer in the warmer months because he will wear long sleeves, full length pants and or a turtle neck for the comfort aesthetic

Personality wise him and Stan are different as can be but they often sync up physically in their mannerisms or what they say, as freaky as it is cute in a way, when you are tired/drunk you can swear you're seeing double, which amuses both of them.

His favourite shared past time with you is any kind of board or card game, some of them the rest of the family will join in for, but will also love someone to play d&d&md with if you're willing! Loves to get into the details of the rules of whatever you're playing together and it can get quite heated (secretly finds your frustrated side quite attractive, as long as you're not actually angry at him).

I feel like Stanford would get into videogames as soon as he becomes more adept at technology in this dimension, likely it's dipper who is the one to introduce it to him and he loves it (nerd). Will marathon catch ups on all the movies and shows he's missed; especially the series he was into that got continued after the portal incident. You lose him to Star Wars prequels etc for at least a couple weeks of him getting his head round all the lore and how it works, may have controversial opinions and needs to work it all out, may need to contact dipper about this.

Regularly has calls with the family (mainly the twins) over video chat (and will always call it 'video calling' no matter what platform they're using), so once you're together that includes you too and be prepared to be bombarded with questions from them (your their new graunty or grunkle after all) ❤️

[rafesfavgirl]

not like you — r. cameron

part 1. part 2. part 3. part 4. sorry this took so long y'all, school's been kicking my ass :')

❝ get my car door, isn't that sweet? then pull me to thе backseat no onе's ever had me, not like you ❞

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

context: after a few dates with rafe, he finally asks you to go midsummers with him as his girlfriend.

words: 2.9k+

warnings: jealous!jj, bitchy!kie, jealous!rafe, alcohol use, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral m receiving, pretty fluffy, SMUT with a cute little plot bc soft!rafe is soooooo bf material

"so… i've actually been meaning to ask you something," rafe pulls his truck to a stop in front of your house and turns to look at you.

it was the middle of the night and the two of you had just gotten back from getting froyo, after he texted you asking whether you wanted to go with him to get some on his way home from topper's.

"what's up?" you ask, eyes scanning his face, which donned a look of apprehension.

was he nervous?

a chuckle escapes his lips as he glances down, hand fiddling with yours on top of your thigh. "well, we've been going out for a few weeks now…" he started.

"yeah?" a small smile comes across your lips—never in a million years did you think you'd be making rafe cameron, of all people, act like this.

"and you've met my friends," his eyes meet yours, blue irises twinkling. "and my sisters…"

"rafe, what is it?"

"i was wondering if you'd consider going to midsummers with me," he says, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "you know… as a couple."

you tilt your head to the side, and kink an eyebrow. "rafe cameron, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"

he shakes his head at your teasing, and playfully rolls his eyes, thumb rubbing against the top of your hand. "depends, are you saying yes?"

"i don't know," you shrug. "i mean, you're a kook, i'm a pogue. we come from totally different worlds. not to mention i just got out of a year-long relationship and…" you trail off when the look on his face turns sour, clearly thinking you were serious.

"oh, i'm just kidding," you chuckle, nudging his arm.

"you're not funny," he tells you, but you know by the way his eyes light up again that he's relieved.

"i'd love to go to midsummers with you," you smile.

"as my girlfriend?"

"yes, baby," you nod, leaning in so your lips are just hovering above his. "as your girlfriend."

rafe closes the distance, lips meeting yours in a way that make all the butterflies flutter in your stomach, as his other hand comes up to tangle in your hair.

"come inside for a bit," you smile against him, lips only leaving his long enough for you to get the words out.

"your parents won't mind?"

you shake your head, "they're sleeping."

—

“y/n!” sarah immediately comes up to greet you when rafe opens your door and helps you step out, making sure your dress doesn’t snag.

“hey, sare,” you return her hug, but your eyes linger behind her head to john b’s parked twinkie in the parking lot.

…what the hell?

“hey, y/n,” when he rounds the twinkie, dressed nicer than you’ve ever seen him dressed, and comes over to stand beside sarah, it clicks in your head.

“no way,” you shake your head, eyes shifting between them when you break your hug with sarah.

sarah shrugs with a smile, hand intertwining with john b’s. “way.”

“but i thought you were with topper,” you say. “how did-“

“a’ight, as much as i’d love to hear about my sister’s love life, we gotta go,” rafe interrupts you, hand sliding across your exposed lower back, making your head turn towards him, as a chill runs down your spine, your weight shifting from one leg to the other.

“right,” you nod, his intoxicating presence completely making you forget about sarah and john b.

he gives you a small push towards the club and begins to lead you inside, sarah and john b trailing closely behind you. 

once again, you’re caught off guard when you follow rafe outside with your hand in his, the back garden of the island club decked out in twinkling lights and hysterias like it was pulled straight out of a fairytale.

"holy shit," you mutter, causing rafe to look at you with a smile.

"you like?"

"are you kidding?" your wide eyes meet his, as you both descend the steps of the back porch. "this is insane."

"come on," he nods his head to the side, and begins leading you toward his dad, rose, and wheezie. "you can meet my dad."

while the two of you had been messing around for about a month now, and you had even attended a brunch at the club with him two weeks ago, he'd been apprehensive to officially introduce you to ward. not that you thought it was a big deal—everyone in the obx already knew who he was.

"dad," rafe greets him with a smile; you glued to his side. "this is y/n."

"so you're the girl i've been hearing so much about," ward smiles at you and holds out a hand. "ward cameron."

you place your free hand in his for a quick handshake, relief washing over you when you realize he isn't the monster you thought he was—at least, if he was, he surely hid it well with that friendly smile.

"y/n y/l/n," you tell him. "it's nice to meet you."

"you too," he nods. "nice to finally put a face to the name. you kids enjoy yourselves."

"thank you," you reply, as rafe pulls you away towards kelce and topper by the bar.

"well, well, what do we have here?" topper smiles at the two of you and sips on a glass of what you assume to be whiskey. "is it official?"

"something like that," you smile back, leaning into rafe and tilting your head up to look at him, his eyes twinkling as they locked with yours.

"y'all want something or what?" the sound of jj's bitter voice pulls you out of your haze, when he walks up behind topper and kelce and leans his hands against the bar counter.

there was just no escaping him.

his eyes meet yours when top and kelce step aside to give him a full view of you and rafe, dressed in matching colors with your hands intertwined.

a smug smirk comes across rafe's lips, realizing just how quickly the tables had turned. though he'd never admit it, he'd always had a thing for you ever since he saw you waitressing at the wreck that one time you agreed to help kie with the lunch rush. a part of him always hated that jj got to you first, but that didn't matter now. because he was the one standing beside you tonight. not jj. 

"just a glass of whiskey for me, man," he says, before looking down at you. "anything for you, doll?"

"i'll take a glass of wine," you nod at him, pulling your eyes away from jj. rafe was the guy in your life now.

"you heard her," rafe tells jj. "and make it white wine. the most expensive kind you've got."

you playfully roll your eyes at his antics—he clearly just wanted jj to know how much he liked to spoil you—but don't argue when he hands you your glass.

"i'll be back," you whisper to him. "i'm gonna go find sarah."

"okay, baby," he nods, leaning down to place his lips on yours. "save me a dance, though."

jj rolls his eyes behind the bar and scoffs, tongue poking at his cheek as he poured another drink for kelce.

you choose to ignore him, and smile up at your new boyfriend instead. "you got it."

—

"is this a pogue reunion i see?" you couldn't help taking a detour from finding sarah to walk up to pope and john b by the grill that pope was working.

"maybe for you," pope shrugs, and john b agrees, pointing the neck of his beer bottle towards you before taking a sip. "we're together everyday."

"alright, touché," you nod, a hand reaching out to bump john b's chest. "i didn't know you cleaned up so well, dude."

"look who's talking," john b says, eyes trailing up and down the baby blue dress you're wearing. "you look more like a kook than anyone here."

you roll your eyes and shake your head. "shut the fuck up."

"i'm totally serious," he chuckles. "you look good, y/n. happy."

you sigh, not being able to help the smile that spreads across your lips. "i am."

"good," he returns your smile. "that's how it should be."

"and what about you?" you tease, nudging his arm with your elbow. "mr. sarah cameron… how the hell did that happen?"

he shrugs, "i don't know, it kinda just did."

a small laugh leaves your mouth. "hmm. who would've thought, huh? you and me with kooks?"

"definitely wasn't on my list of things that would happen this year," he shakes his head, chuckling.

"where is she, anyway?"

"she went to go find you, actually," he says.

"damn, i should go find her then," you reply. "but text me, yeah? i've missed y'all."

half-engaged in conversation with topper and kelce across the garden by the bar, rafe's eyes focus on you, as you throw your head back in a giggle at something john b and pope had said, his grip on his glass tightening. his tongue moves to poke at his cheek when you throw an arm around john b in a hug, and then pope, the ugly green monster inside him threatening to make an appearance, as he brings the glass up to his lips and downs the rest of his whiskey.

"face it, man," jj tuts, refilling his drink when he sets it down on the counter. "she's known us longer than you. it's not gonna last."

"just fill up my glass and shut the fuck up, a'ight?" rafe throws him a glare. "no one asked you."

—

you enter the bathroom to pee after failing to find sarah again—where the hell could she have possibly gone?—the two wine glasses you had finally catching up to you.

"you've got some nerve showing your face here," kiara's voice fills your ears when you move towards the sink to wash your hands.

when you look up at the mirror, you find her standing behind you. "you're one to talk," you turn off the sink and reach for some paper towards to dry your hands, as you turned to look at her. "weren't you against all these events because they're so ‘tone-deaf'?"

she scoffs and shakes her head. "you're pathetic, you know that? taking jj from me, dumping him for rafe…" this psycho bitch. "then turning him, john b and pope against me…" wait, what? "i mean— seriously, y/n, are you really that desperate for attention?"

you let out a sigh to keep your composure—she wasn't worth the energy it took to stoop down to her level. despite what she and jj had put you through, you were happy. she wasn't taking that away from you.

"i hate to break it to you, but if the boys aren't talking to you, it has nothing to do with me," you tell her. "maybe they just realized who you really are." you shrug, taking a step towards her. "you're a shitty person, kiara. you can try and blame me all you want, but you dug your own grave."

"you—"

"lie in it," you cut her off. "and while you're at it, leave me alone."

you don't allow her to get another word in before walking away, leaving her alone in the bathroom with her own thoughts.

damn that felt good.

—

"hey stranger," you lean down and snake the arm not holding a glass of wine around rafe's neck, your hand landing on his chest, as he sat at an empty table with a glass of whiskey, sulking.

"done talking to your other boyfriends?" he asks, raising his glass up to his lips.

you tilt your head at him, eyebrows furrowing. "what?"

"i saw you flirting with john b and pope," he says, setting his drink down on the table, as his eyes finally met yours.

they didn't look angry though, more like… sad?

"you thought i was flirting?" you ask, moving to sit in the seat beside him. "they're my friends, babe. i haven't seen them in a while, we were just catching up."

"didn't look like that when you were giggling and hugging them," his eyes avert to his glass on the table, his finger tracing along its rim.

"oh my god," you chuckle, half-amused by his behavior. "are you jealous?"

"why would i be jealous?" he shrugs you off, still refusing to have his eyes meet yours again. "if it's them you want, that's cool."

you sigh, and place a hand on his. "come dance with me."

to your surprise, he doesn't resist when you take his hand in yours and stand up to lead him towards the dance floor, as the band began to play an instrumental rendition of taylor swift's you are in love.

your hands lock behind rafe's neck, while his hands snake around your waist, pulling you close to him, as the two of you slowly began to sway along with the music.

"you're crazy, you know that?" you ask, fingers entwining with the hair on the back of his head.

"how's that?"

"for thinking i'd flirt with someone else when i'm here with you," you say.

"they've known you longer than me," he shrugs. "it's not that crazy."

"i guess,” you shrug. “but you’re forgetting something.”

his eyebrows furrow. “what?”

“they’re not you,” your lips pull together in a smile. "i mean, sure, i've known them longer. yes, we're friends, but they don't hold a candle to you, alright? no one's ever made me feel the way you do."

and it was true. your entire relationship with jj, there was always an uneasy feeling in the depths of your stomach that made you feel like there was always someone else—and it was right, because there was kie. but with rafe? he made you feel like the only girl in the world. it was healing.

"not even jj?"

you chuckle and shake your head. "not even jj."

"and how do i make you feel, doll?" his head tilts to the side, an amused look on his face.

a smirk comes across your lips, eyes locking with his. "how 'bout i show you?"

—

"shit, baby, what's gotten into you?" rafe smirks against your lips, your body rolling against him and your fingers entwined in his hair.

the two of you were now in the backseat of his truck, tongues dancing together while his hands roamed over your body.

you shrug, jokingly. "wine."

"damn," he muttered. "should get you wine drunk more often."

without your lips ever leaving his, one of your hands trail down his body to slide over the hardness under his pants, eliciting a groan from him.

he pulls away and shakes his head at you, the look in his eyes hungrier than you've ever seen them. "don't tease me, pretty girl."

"i don't plan to," you smirk, hands coming between the two of you to begin unbuckling his belt.

you pull away from him and he leans back on the seat, as you position yourself on your knees, hands working at his belt to pull down his slacks and boxers. his cock springs free and you immediately wrap your fingers around it, rafe's hand landing on your ass to give it a squeeze.

you slowly lean down to take him in your mouth, your mouth swirling around his length as you cupped his balls with your hand.

"fuckkkk," rafe groans, hand trailing up to gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail. "just like that, doll."

you lick up his length and swirl your tongue around his tip, making his head tilt back as he began guiding your head to bob up and down.

you feel the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat and you gag, only making rafe hotter.

you release him from your mouth, and tilt your head up to look at him as you began stroking his length up and down. "you gonna cum for me, baby?"

"uh-uh," rafe shakes his head and grabs your hand to stop you, before grabbing you by the waist to sit up so he could untie the back of your dress and pull it off you, until it's lying on the floor of his truck. "come ride me, pretty girl."

he guides your hips to move over him, and you place your hand over his shoulders, your soaked center hovering right above his length.

he doesn't give you the chance to tease him, and immediately pushed you down, his entire length sinking into you and making you throw your head back.

you begin rocking your hips against him and he groans, one hand moving up to grab your tit.

"oh rafe," you moan, your orgasm inching closer and closer as you tangle a hand into his hair and lean against him.

his lips connect to your neck and begins trailing wet kisses, his fingers pinching your nipple and heightening the pleasure you were already feeling.

"so close, baby," rafe whispers against you. "you gonna cum with me?"

"mhm," you nod, barely coherent as your high washes over you.

you tremble when rafe shoots his load and keeps you steady, his head falling against your shoulder.

"did that answer your question?" you pant.

you feel his smirk on your skin before he picks his head up to look at you. "oh yeah."

"and how do you feel about me?"

he brings a hand up and pushes you hair back, eyes scanning every inch of your face. "you're everything."

anddddd that concludes this little series... i think. i've considered writing an epilogue but it'd take place several years after this, so let me know if that's something y'all are even interested in. but until then, i'm very excited to start working on some new fics, so stay tuned :)

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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[lokilaufeysonslove]

𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐞

𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

// Summary // Bucky has a nightmare and reader comforts him.

// Warnings // other than nightmare, none.

// Author’s Note // divider by the amazing @saradika-graphics / gif by @buckybarnesj

You and Bucky had been on this mission for a week now, and things between you were tense, to say the least. There was always some sort of underlying tension between the two of you, but this time it was different. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but something had shifted between you.

You both had been assigned to stay at a safe house for the night, but in separate rooms. You were grateful for the space, as it gave you a chance to clear your head and try to figure out what was going on with Bucky. As you lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, you couldn't help but think about how different things were now compared to when you first met. Bucky used to be so guarded and distant, but as you got to know him, you saw glimpses of the kind and caring man he truly was.

Just as you were starting to drift off to sleep, you heard a loud noise coming from Bucky's room. You immediately got up and went to check on him, worried that something had happened. As you opened the door, you saw Bucky thrashing around in his bed, clearly having a nightmare. You hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to approach him, but then you saw the pain etched on his face and you knew you had to do something.

You cautiously walked over to his bed and gently shook his shoulder, trying to wake him up. "Bucky, wake up. It's just a bad dream," you said softly.

Bucky's eyes flew open and he immediately shot up, panting and covered in sweat. He looked around the room, trying to get his bearings, before finally focusing on you. "Y/n?" he asked, still in a daze.

"Yeah, it's me," you said, sitting down next to him. "Are you okay?"

Bucky nodded his head, his eyes filling with tears. "It was just a nightmare. I'm fine," he said, his voice shaking.

You could tell he was lying, but you didn't push it. Instead, you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug. He stiffened at first, but then he relaxed and buried his face in your shoulder, letting out a sob.

You held him for what felt like hours, not caring about the tears that were soaking into your shirt. All that mattered was that Bucky was here, in your arms, and you were there to comfort him.

Eventually, his sobs turned into quiet sniffles and you pulled away, wiping away the tears from his face. "You wanna talk about it?" you asked gently.

Bucky shook his head, but then he sighed and looked down at his hands. "It was just a memory from my past. One I try to forget," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You didn't push him any further, knowing that he would talk when he was ready. Instead, you just sat there with him, offering your silent support. After a few moments, Bucky spoke up again. "I'm sorry for waking you up. You can go back to your room now," he said, looking down at the floor.

You chuckled softly and placed a hand under his chin, making him look at you. "I wasn't sleeping. And I'm not leaving you alone after that nightmare. Besides, I don't mind sleeping on the floor," you said, giving him a small smile.

Bucky looked at you, "You shouldn’t sleep on the floor."

You shrugged, "I don't want to leave you alone. And I don't mind sleeping on the floor, really. I used to do it all the time when I was a kid," you said, hoping he wouldn't see through your little white lie.

Bucky didn't say anything, but you could tell he didn't believe you. "No, you shouldn’t sleep on the floor.” You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness. He would not be able to go back to sleep alone, you knew him all too well.

“Bucky,” you said in a warning voice, “We both know you won’t be able to sleep if I live you alone. So quit this nonsense and scoot over."

He just shook his head at you and scooted over, patting the spot next to him. He was fighting so hard to hide his smile that was forming on his face, but he wasn’t going good job at it.

You smiled and laid next to him, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked, a bit unsure. He was acting like he didn’t want you to be there, but deep down, he was scared you would say you weren’t and go back to your room. He was hoping it wouldn’t happen.

“Yes, Bucky, I am completely comfortable. Now go back to sleep. We have a lot of work to do tomorrow.” You said and sneakily scooted a little closer to him. He noticed this and smirked lightly, you couldn’t see it in the dark, but you could hear it in his voice.

“Goodnight doll,” he said and put his arm around you.

“Goodnight, Buck,” you said and closed your eyes.

That night, Bucky didn’t have anymore nightmares, and unbeknownst to you, he slept peacefully for the first time in a while.

[pedge-page]

Insatiable

Part 3/Finale to Cravings and Crash

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Summary: Frankie and reader spend some time apart before realizing that’s actually really stupid—and solid communication happens for once :) 

Notes: it’s finally HERE! Thank you all so much again for your words of praise and keeping with these two absolute idiots in love. Honestly intended the first one to just be a one-off drabble throw away thought, but I’m glad everyone enjoyed it so much to ask for more! I’m spitting this out earlier than expected. Don’t know if I’ve done them reasonable justice but this is what I’ve got—hope you like it!

Warnings: unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampies, mentions of m oral, pussy eating king returns, cum eating, missionary, doggy, cowgirl, overstimulation, fingering, squirting, bit of possessive and jealous Frankie, mentions of drug use, drugs present, language

18+ ONLY

- - - - 

You had cried when you got in your car. And again when you went to your cousin’s house to crash until you signed your new lease. And then again every night for a week straight.

You had NEVER cried this hard over a boy before.

Except this wasn't some boy—this was Frankie. The guy who comforted you through all your dates that stood you up, and shitty boyfriends, albeit few, that left you feeling less than worthwhile. The same Frankie who stood around you like a guard dog when you went drinking together so no one would even think to slip something in your cup, but who YOU have to comfort during horror movies because he's a big scared kitten. Who lets you sleep on his shoulder for five hours in the car no matter how uncomfortable it was for him, never once moving, but still ate the food you didn't like off your plate "because he's a garbage dump who'd eat anything, even mold." 

The first guy to tell you that you were beautiful when you weren't even trying to impress him. Who brings a hair tie with him when you go to eat because you always forget yours and get your hair caught in your fork. Who pushed you to take charge of your life and break up with your loser first love, and it was the hardest and best decision you could have ever made.

And you know what? The ONLY guy who made you cum 9 fucking times the FIRST time he went down on you.

You called Santi that night because you needed to let loose, and the only other person you trusted to hold you up outside of Frankie was Pope.

“So how is he?” Santi asked, as you immediately double fisted your first two shots. 

"I don't wanna talk about him tonight."

Santi nods, eyes widening as you don’t even resist the bitter taste going down your throat. He holds his finger up towards the waitress to order 4 more glasses.

You really didn't want to think about Frankie. The more you thought about him, the more confused you felt, and you couldn't afford to be confused about your purpose in his life right now. You knew battling addiction isn’t a linear healing process. That it would get worse before it got better at times. You're his friend. You're helping him. That's it. 

Frankie spent a whole year being physically intimate with you, but never once asked or made a move for anything more emotionally. So why let yourself get carried away even thinking about something more?

To even consider if you wanted more...

You snatch the shot glass out of Santi's hand right before he was about to sip it and catapulted it down your throat, the burning sensation taking your mind out of the gutter.

Fuck Frankie for not keeping his shit together. Fuck him for being hot and cold. Fuck him for using you when that's exactly what you’re here for.

It's much easier to keep it all that way. Easy to encourage him with sex to avoid overthinking his intentions. Easier to constantly verbalize it, knowing he won’t deny it, as a means of reassurance to yourself. 

But absolutely fucking HELL he’s being so difficult lately. The sex—wasn’t just good. It was fucking phenomenal. you could physically see how much better he was just moments afterwards, even if you were blacking out and falling asleep not too long after. He was so hungry for it too, why deny? But he’d been holding back too much now—getting too tense, crashing, then stressed again. You needed to get things back on schedule with him so he’d be happy again.

And gentle, nurturing, innocent, sober you just wasn't doing the trick for him anymore.

You barely hear Santi over the pounding in your head: "When we was the last time you got laid? You need a distraction from your Fix-a-Fish hobby."

You gulp down the last of the vodka on the table, suppressing a slight burp.

"I'm 'bout to do both tonight."

That was 4 weeks ago. You didn’t achieve either that night.

Fish didn't seem too upset when you left, ultimately making the choice much easier. You looked so fucking stupid walking in there, basically demanding sex from him when he made it clear all year that you were only there for HIM and not the other way around. He didn’t want you like that. 

Good. Makes staying friends that much easier.

Or it did, for a little while. 

You couldn’t get over the way he made you feel when all was well—when he’d serenade you so easily in affection like Querida, Carino, Hermosa, and you could barely contain the butterflies in your stomach each time. You had never once heard him even refer to his dates or ex girlfriends in the same manner. It was both confusing and arousing. He treated you like a best friend some times, but adored you like a lover more. 

Hadn’t the man heard of friendship boundaries? Aside from the fact he made you orgasm every minute of the day, what was Frankie like as a lover? What more could he possibly do to cross that line?

Who the hell treats their friend like that?

That last month, however, felt more realistic. Grounded in the truth of your relation. You didn’t realize how much he had gotten to you with sweet words first that made the change in his attitude so unbearable. 

You wanted to go back to being selfish with his unbridled love.

You hadn’t gotten off in over a week, a new record. But as you lay in bed, conjuring any and all pornos, audio eroticas, pillows, aching fingers, even the dusty vibrator still wrapped in its new plastic, nothing was getting you to that same addictive feeling that Frankie gave you every single day.

You should have called him to return his shirt you had accidentally packed in your bag in a haste to get out of there. But it still smelled like him. You felt perverted getting wet just by holding it in your hands, but it was doing the trick, and finally you could touch yourself without additional lubricant assistance.

All the memories that tumbled from then on only made the ache between your legs worse: The first night, Frankie between your legs, begging you to let go so he could force more orgasms from your shaking body. “Doing s’good for me, cariño. Give me more, fucking starving” ; when he held you in his lap as you grind down on his bulge, his head buried under his shirt that you were wearing as his lapped at your nipples, “Don’t you dare hold back those beautiful moans, wanna hear you singing when I’m devouring you”; when he’d come home from work and didn’t say a word, just grabbed your wrist and lead you to his bedroom, lied on the bed, slapped your ass a few times to get you to straddle him higher, higher, until you were right over his lips. He didn’t even wait for your hesitation, immediately bringing your hips down and crashing his lips on your pussy, shaking his head like a mad scientist at work, hell bent on discovering what makes you cry faster.

You pulled your fingers away from your slick cunt. No amount of memory would compare to the real thing—and it wasn’t all the acts that you needed, but the intimacy, the familiarity that came from Frankie—THAT’S what always sent you over the edge.

It scared you.

Santi was half right. You did need to get laid. Needed someone who wasn’t Frankie to remind you that you don’t rely on him for some shit like getting off (although you had developed a keen preference by now). You needed a new hobby that wasn’t thinking about Frankie all the time. YOU needed a distraction.

He was half wrong, however, because you knew very well that you’d be drowning in lame date after lame lay a million times before you got over the addictive feeling of being around Fish this past year.

It never felt like a chore. Well, obviously, you were getting ate out like a Sunday brunch. But it was everything else that made you want to keep staying around, even after he maybe didn’t need you anymore.

You realized then that leaving was the best for you and him. You had somehow managed to score a  date tonight, the first one in over a year, with a James. Or Jonathan. Or Jimmy. Something J. I think.

I’m excited. I’m going on a date. I’m going to have fun. I’m excited. Im going on a date. Im going to have fun.

You didn’t even have the care to shave tonight before you begrudgingly left for dinner and a movie.

-

He couldn't say it then. Frankie remembered so vividly the image that he wishes he could forget: you standing there, so meek and vulnerable, spilling your tears as you tried to level your emotions with your feelings and confront the fucked up situation he put you in. Maybe if you had screamed, yelled at him and cussed him out for being such a dick, then he could have told you how he truly felt.

He was always better at being shouted at by others from being in the service. The guys would let their tempers soar and just shout, honesty tumbling through like a flood, and then everything would be out on the table, and shit would get DONE.

The apartment is unforgivably quiet and cold.

He's noticing little things you left behind: your nice moisturizer, expensive shampoo, a paper towel holder. He thinks you’re mocking him by leaving bits of you around his place, so he collects them in a bin and waits for you to come retrieve them. But you don't contact him for the first week.

He starts to think maybe you left those things for him. You bought all these things while you were here, forcing him to use them with you:

"Your face is as dry as a desert; you need moisturizer, not body lotion.”

"You can't use a 4 in one hair and body wash!"

"Who the fuck doesn't have a holder for their paper towels?"

It wasn't all just sex when you were here. He remembered coming in to the bathroom when your feet were soaking in the tub, and you explained you were rubbing your calluses off your feet. He joined you, sweats pulled up above his knee as you held him down to get the stone on his crusty feet, the whole time laughing and squirming because it tickled too much. He fell on his ass in the tub desperate to escape your strangely strong grip around his ankle, getting his clothes all wet.

And despite how well he had known you even before your arrangement, he continued to learn new things about you. Like you took night showers, and could only go to bed with your hair in braid. He'd come to see you, agitated in his room all morning, waiting for you to finally wake up so he could distract his craving. He’d walk into the kitchen where you were already cooking him breakfast, slip his arms around your hip, and pull your braids out lovingly to smell scent of your shampoo waft off in waves, closing his eyes and feeling his jitters dissipate, instantly calming him like no other remedy.

Found it funny that you couldn’t use a regular spoon for cereal, always replacing it with a tea spoon because the other ones are “too big” for your mouth to fully close around. A sentiment he suspected to be a load of BS when you had no problem swallowing his cock whole and then gulping down his cum without spilling a drop.

Or when you got red sauce all over the laundry and had to borrow Frankie's shirt to sleep in. He liked that you smelled like him, that it draped over you so pretty, and you'd never wear pants underneath. He'd put you in his lap and make you hold the shirt up with your teeth, showing off your perky tits. His thumb circled your hip bone, large hand clasping your waist to keep you upright while he'd kiss your nipples, and then make you both look down and watch as he rubbed his fingers through your folds, sucking the juices off as he finger fucked you over top him.

He can't help but feel his twitch of his cock stir in his pants at the thought.

Ok. Maybe the sexual parts were a big part—how could they not be? That’s all it was, at first. And he was able to pretend like it was too. But the more time he spent with you. The more time he got to really know you, live with you, breathe you in, unravel you and bind him to you so that you had no sanctuary untouched by him, it was all over before it began. 

He sat down with Pope a week after you left: 

“You look like shit.”

Frankie grumbled, shrugging it off. He hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten like he used to when you were around. His beard was growing in more patchy and less manicured than before.

“Have you talked to her since?”

“Don’t wanna talk about her tonight.”

Jesus, a broken record with these two, Santi thought. But he knew Fish much better, knew the exact reason why he called him out instead of all the boys together is precisely because he needed to get this off his chest. “She thought you were stressed, needed time. Clearly she was right.”

Frankie’s jaw clenched, teeth grinding so hard that he could form diamonds.

Santi cleared his throat, twirling the ice in his glass casually. “Course, I didn’t tell her you’re head over heels in love with her. Why didn’t you?”

He doesn’t deny it. Doesn’t think he could again. “Imagine how that would have gone? She was crying right there. Right in front of me, BECAUSE of me, after I’d treated her like shit for weeks until her breaking point. Would have given her some fucked up idea that that was my expression of loving her. If I’d said it then, she would never have believed me. Would have ruined everything. Including our friendship.” He pauses, staring down at his rough hands. “She deserves better,” he said weakly, more to convince himself than anyone else.

Santi leans back against the booth. He’d heard the Frankie pity train before, but this was much lower than usual. “And friendship is still good enough for you?”

“I’ll take whatever she’ll give me at this point. I can’t lose her.” 

“You can’t? Or don’t want to?”

Frankie thought about that for a while. He had realized too late he didn’t actually still need you. He hadn’t really “craved” cocaine like before. He no longer needed you tending to his every reaction, overly serving his necessities and desires, always a few steps away to brighten his smile, or warm the house with your laughter, your cooking, your terrible taste in movies, all for the sake of keeping him sane and sober.

But damn it all, he still wanted you.

Frankie goes 4 weeks of the hardest withdrawal of his life. You were right, he was getting better at not thinking about cocaine. But without you here, he's more agitated than before. It's not that he craves it now, but rather craves a substitute to get him through your absence.

He's itching for his phone, for the number of his dealer he should have blocked and deleted so long ago.

He shouldn't. It would devastate you. You'd think it's your fault because you weren't here to distract him, only making the whole lie he’s been telling himself that you could still be just friends more abundantly evident. Pushing that useless tale even further, rooting it in your mind.

 In truth, it is your fault that his entire happiness is now emotionally and physically tied to you, but he can't really blame you for leaving him since he's the big idiot. He had the entire year to make it right, damned be the consequences of your possible rejection.

He’s clenching his fist at his sides, debating whether to text his dealer. He doesn't even want that shit, at least not the way before. He just wants a distraction from the real aches that you've left behind.

And if he did... wouldn't you come back to him to make it right?

You’re so clear in his mind that doesn't even struggle, doesn't hesitate as he pays the money and carries the little pouch in his hands. He gets back to his apartment with vigorous haste, slamming the door behind him, and sits it on the coffee table, staring.

Even if you don't come back to him, getting just a little bit high would help take his mind off it all. He'd be able to stop thinking about you, even for just the night. Just to get some sleep.

Just to stop feeling.

He shakily tries to undo the tightly sealed bag, but few particle traces catch in his finger tips from outside the plastic, and he instantly wafts the infinitesimal scent of it on his finger tips. He stops, feeling something he's never felt before when staring down at the thing thats caused him so much trouble in his life:

Disgust.

-

You considered calling Frankie a million times, but how soon was too soon? Would he think you were just desperate to get ate out again? Would he deny you the second you wanted to see him, thinking it was just a booty call again? You had made some stupid choices, like going on a shitty date with a guy you weren’t even interested in, just to get over Frankie, so that you could avoid thinking about how badly you had shattered your friendship.

And going right back to being his friend, which included sharing one of your reckless decisions you make on your own, was one of them. He’d be interested in hearing about it, right?

You dial him up quickly.

You rock back and forth on your heels, unable to sit still.

The phone rings out to voicemail.

He’s never missed a phone call from you. Not even at 2am on a work night. He's never on his phone, and yet still always managed to answer your calls even if it’s on the last ring.

He's just avoiding you again. It's fine. Santi said he'll get over it eventually. That you’ve done enough worrying for him, and need to take care of yourself for a change.

You glance at the key he gave back to you, and not even a moment later, are soon slipping on shoes and heading out the door with it in hand.

-

You unlock the door and slowly walk in to the familiar layout of Frankie's apartment. It's entirely dark, curtains drawn save for a small crack in the shades. You call out his name tentatively, the eeriness of the place making you anxious. When you see the bathroom light on and door slightly ajar, hearing the rushing sink water running, you sigh relief.

Thank God.

You gently push open the door. "Fish?" You see him, heart skipping a beat at how much thinner, paler he looked now than before, eyes sunk from lack of sleep.

His eyes light up when he sees you, and your heart breaks at how different he looks but STILL has the brightest, softest, loving smile at you.

Your eyes drift down, smile fading, horror quickly overtaking your face at the unopened baggie of white powder sitting at the sink. And his face drops at the realization.

You take one step back, unable to close the gape in your lips, petrified. "Fish—I—holy fuck..."

You had never seen him doing it, never seen him freshly blown high from it. The closest you ever got was what the boys would tell you, or seeing the long aftermath of his crash. They were always first on the scene and quite frankly, ensured you were never the one to find in him these states. You had never been able to mentally prepare to have to handle it now.

"No—no no no! It's not, I didn’t, I didn't! Look—ok it looks like I did but I swear I haven't touched it. It’s still sealed! I’m. I'm dumping it down the toilet."

You don't trust his word, seeing as the bag is here, albeit fully wrapped up, seal unbroken like he said. But here, nonetheless. With him. In front of you with no denial that it was his. 

He gets on his knees and wraps his arms around your waist. “Please don’t leave me. I didn’t want you to leave the first time…”

“And it’s taking you being high right now to admit that?!”

I’m not high, seriously. Check me.” You peer down closer, and aside from his rampant heart beating against your leg and big round eyes, there’s no trace of smell or lingering white powder anywhere on him. But you’re hesitant.

“I bought it but then realized It wasn’t what I really wanted…”

He licks his lips quickly, his brown eyes pleading up to you, biceps flexing against your ribcage.

Your chest is pounding, the encasing feeling of Frankie refusing to let you back away making you feel like a trapped rabbit. 

“Please believe me,” he breathes.

"Your eyes are dilated as fuck Frankie!"

"That's because of you!"

You both hold your breath, a pregnant silence ringing in the air.

“I—I’m. Um. I meant." His eyes trail off sheepishly as a warm blush takes over his face. 

He stands up, rubbing the back of his head. He can tell you’re patiently waiting for him to get over his blubbering awkwardness so he can explain properly. To find the words he’s combing his brain for. And find them he did: 

"I miss you, Querida.”

He breathes slowly, time catching up and suddenly stopping. 

You glance toward the bag, still fearful that he had gotten to this point while you were gone. “Frankie. I’m—I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. For your needs—“

“I don’t need you to fix me. I haven’t craved that shit for a while, still don’t even now. I just wanted you here with me.” He snatches the baggie and chucks it in the toilet, immediately flushing it.

You want to say that might not be great for the plumbing, but Frankie’s hands are on yours, holding them securely to his chest. “I just want you. I should have said it before you walked away.  Should’ve said it a year ago, when I knew I didn’t want to pretend this was just some—some drug replacement.” He goes quieter. “I didn’t want this to be nothing. I thought when we had sex, maybe you’d feel the same, but you didn’t—”

“I was afraid about what would happen to you If our dynamic changed, Fish. I was worried it was just another high. So I tried to make things go back to how they were since it seemed to be working so well for you before,” you rambled. He can see the shininess in your eyes, feel how your body is no longer resisting him and instead, cradling his neck with affection, empathy, nurture, all the things he’d been depraved of for weeks. “But then it made everything worse and I didn’t know what to do—“

He cut you off, as if suddenly things didn’t line up. ”Why did you come back?"

You lick your lips, eyes unable to meet his. “Well I called, and you didn't answer. And I wanted to check up on you, and tell you... um—I mean I always tell you about… I went on a date, my first one in over a year."

Frankie's eyes blankly drift lower, down to your feet, his arms retreating. He takes an awkward step back. "How... how did it go?" He asks slowly, feeling the distance between the two of you growing again.

You throw your hands up in the air, unable to express yourself. “He was…Handsome. Funny. Charming. Paid for me, made me feel pretty, treated me real good—“

He nodded, unable to bring his eyes anywhere else but back to the back on the sink as he listened. “S’good. That’s what you deserve,” he says, jaw tensing.

“Yeah. Yeah it is what I deserve.” You pause, here goes everything. “Except the whole time, I hated the fact that he was nothing like you." 

Frankie’s attention darts back to you as you cup his scruffy face in your hands. "You're irritable, and sassy, and needy and clingy, and you pout when you don't get what you want. And you don't listen to me or stop when I tell you to stop—“

A roasting fest? Now?? “OK, That's, Jesus, I get it—“

"And I love all those things about you.” You hold his gaze, feeling his breath seize in his chest. “And I miss being here. I miss waking up with you every morning, and your smug face being the last I see before I go to sleep. And it took me until after I left to realize how I actually felt about you. This whole year with you has felt like this perfect—“

"High?"

Your brows furrow shyly. “I didn’t want to put it that way, for obvious reasons. But fuck it. Yes. I don’t—I don’t wanna let that go.”

His fingers tense around your waist, almost begging you to say it, spill it out for him and don’t hold back ever again. 

“You got me addicted to you, Francisco."

You aren't aware of how fast he moves, his hands grabbing your neck as he smashes his lips to yours. Your heart is beating out of your chest when he sucks every breath from you, barely separating from your lips to utter "I've waited—so long—for you—“ He hoists you up on his waist and brushes out of the bathroom with your legs wrapped securely around him, his kiss hot and full of passion the entire time. "Wanted you since you first let me have a taste of you.” He slams you on the bed, the familiarity of you two being in this exact situation settles on you. “Wanted you to want me. Want more.”

He continues to engulf your lips with his, his moans vibrating against your tongue. "I shouldn’t—“ he hastily bites your lip with a grunt “—shouldn't have pushed you away—treated you so bad.” He pauses his assault. “I was so scared you didn't want me like that. Couldn't handle pretending I could be okay with it.”

You place your hands on his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart matching yours. "Frankie, I want you."

"Good," he smiles, leaning up to remove his shirt over his shoulders. You whine at the sight. Draping himself over you, his lips never leave your body as he kisses down your chest then back to your lips. You’re unable to bring yourself to action as his body dictates both of your moves.

You feel his bulge pressing painfully against your core, eliciting an obscene moan from your throat. "Frankie—Let me take care—“

"No. Fuck no. I'm taking care of you tonight. And tomorrow, and every fuckin’ day after," he growls.

He kisses you once again but then slowly backs away. "Um, if... if you want that."

He feels your hand tangle in the hair behind his neck as you bring his face back to yours, teeth clashing for dominance. "I want it," you whisper, sucking his lower lip and biting it possessively.

His jaw hitches. “Prove it."

You unbutton your pants, taking his large hand and guiding it down your panties in haste. His digits make contact between your folds, the two of you sighing.

"Oh f-fuck. You want this, don't you?"

"Want you so bad, Frankie. It fucking hurts.”

His fingers dont leave your dripping cunt, spreading your slick around your swollen clit. His other rips your string underwear off with incredible strength. He then helps push your shirt over your head, and you immediately unclasp your bra. Frankie growls lowly at the sight of your perky breasts bouncing from their release. "Fuck, I missed these.” His mouth wraps around as much fat of your tit he could before biting, making you lurch. 

“I—I’m not gonna be slow—I wanted to—“

"Jesus Fish, I don’t care, just take me!"

He plunges two of his thick digits into your soaking heat, making your back arch off the bed. He takes the opportunity to suck a nipple back into his mouth, half his body hovering over you to keep your form perfectly positioned between his mouth and fingers. They teasingly thrust in and out slowly from your hole, intentionally dragging out his torture against you. "So mean to me, baby." His teeth nip at your nipple with a smug grin. "Takin’ my sweet little pussy away from me like that. I barely touched you and you're absolutely soaked. Were you wet on your way here?"

"Frankie I haven't... haven't been able to get off in weeks."

"How long?"

You moan out loud, eyes rolling back as your brain turns to mush. Your hand tries to guide his wrist faster but he slaps it away, continuing his teasing ministrations.

"Answer me!"

"Since the last time you touched me!" You cry.

He haults his movements. 

The girl who bragged about cumming an average of 6 times a day just grinding on a pillow, now telling him she hasn't been able to orgasm in a month, because of him.

Ohhhhhhh fuuuuccccckkkkkfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. “That why you went on your little date, huh?"

You nod shamefully.

"Did you fuck him?"

You whine, eyes burrowing in confusion that he still expected you have coherent thoughts while he had you in this compromising position, teetering on the brink of your much needed orgasm.

"Your date.” He repeats, his wrist slowing down entirely. “Did. You. Fuck. Him."

“No—no! I didn’t even let him kiss me goodnight. Couldn't even get wet for him, that's how bad—Frankie, fuck! please!—bad you've got me fucked up."

He speeds up his hands, satisfied with your confessions. They are thrusting perfectly in and out at record speeds as his jaw clenched around your tit, watching your eyes roll back as your first orgasm in WEEKS overwhelms you fast. You’re shaking violently, legs desperate to close but Frankie pries them open with his strong hand, continuing to dominate your cunt with his incessant fingers.

You feel something else coming as he continues to ram his wrist against you, fingers digging so deep, curling so effortlessly that you can’t stop the gush of liquid squirting out of you. “Oh shit, oh fuckfuckFUCK that’s it! That’s my girl, holy fuck yeah—yeah keep going, Cariño, so fucking good.” He continues to finger fuck you repeatedly, working you through it as your pussy continues to contract and release your spend.

You hardly have time to process your embarrassment as he's shifting below your hips, throwing your thighs over shoulder and giving your soaked pussy a longing look. Your clit twitches excitedly. Cool air is blown on it, making you fist his hair harder. He presses his large nose into you, inhaling your scent like bloodhound, growling like a man possessed at the sticky coating. "I fucking missed you, Hermosa," he groans, and his mouth latched right on to your pulsing cunt. You gasp, hands fisting his hair as he rolls your overstimulated clit with his tongue, jaw opening wide to practically swallow your pussy whole, sucking away everything you're giving him.

Whether he was talking to you or your pussy, it didn’t really matter to you. All you could process was the rough feeling of his fat tongue and scruffy face rubbing perfectly between your legs as Frankie got reacquainted with his former addiction. "FrankieFrankieFranke-ohFUCK!"

You can’t stop him, can’t even warn him as the overstimulation send you into a fit of gasps, cumming again, legs squeezing his head as painful pleasure courses through you. His upper back is littered in your scratches, the red marks raising his skin like tiger stripes.

You're struggling to catch your breath with ragged moans. He slows his licks to draw it out, letting your spasms pass. His sinful, lidded eyes have never left your face, absorbing every reaction from you, committing it to memory.

"You really have neglected this poor pussy," he teases, kissing your clit as his fingers begin to spread your glistening folds once again.

You can only nod, arms covering your face as he starts to rub the pad of his thumb on your swollen nub again. “It’s—not as good—unless it’s you.”

He grits his teeth in satisfaction. “S’okay. M’ gonna take care of you now. Gonna fuck you real soon."

You whine when he pushes his fingers back in to your tight heat.

"And then, when I’m done fucking you—We're gonna fuck again," he laughs.

You’re a bit frightened with how he’s looking at you: like he’s fucking possessed by a hungry, malicious demon.

He makes you cum on his fingers again, then his lips, then both at once. He’s pinning you down so harshly, you have no choice but to take the endless barrage of orgasms he’s forcing from you, almost as if he’s trying to make up for the time you two have been apart. 

By the time his tastebuds are content, he brings himself back up to you, messily kissing your lips so you taste yourself, his beard and stache now soaked in your cum and rubbing along your chin.

You gasp when you feel his hard cock sliding along your folds. He rolls his hips against you, your copious slick letting him glide effortlessly, tip nudging your clit.

“Frankie,” you warn, unable to handle his teasing now.

He grabs the base of his dick. “Beg. Beg me for it,” He commands with a godly voice you’d never heard him use before. He slaps the underside of his throbbing member repeatedly against your pussy with a taptaptaptap. “Tell me you want it.”

You don’t care for the fat tears spilling down your cheeks as you whine like a bitch in heat. “Fuckyou, Frankie,” you seethe, anger building with your desperation. “I fucking want it, want it so bad, want you to ruin me, please, Fish, fucking please put it in already!”

He grins, big and sadistic as he watches your face contort with the first push of his tip into your wetness. “Oh F—“ he breathes, eyes closing as your tight walls do their best to accomodate his size.

Your eyesight is blurry, waves of pleasure rolling throughout your entire body, delirious as he bottoms out. Where he belongs. Where he’s always meant to be.

He presses his forehead to you as his hips start rutting.

He’s hardly fucked you for a few seconds, but the pressure building inside of you, desperate for this moment again after months, isn’t giving you a choice to savor it. “Fish—fuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK! ‘M not gonna last!"

He growls excitedly, driving his cock more harshly into you, reaching that special spot he’s decided is only his to abuse. “It’s okay, babygirl. You cum for me. You're always so good at it."

And you are, you really are. “OH FUCK FRANKIE!” You scream. Your body agreeing with him so much that your abrupt orgasm squeezes around him so hard, his movements stop altogether.

“Oh shit—“ he hisses, your pussy greedily milking the cum right out of him. He only pauses for a moment, shaking over you for a moment as his first orgasm subsides before his hips are moving of their own accord, his cum forced out with each thrust.

“Keep goin’, pretty thing. Give me more,” he grunts. 

You nod deliriously, eyes rolled to the back of your skull as he pounds your battered puussy.

He pulls out, the sudden withdrawal making you whine with emptiness. He sinks to his knees again, yanking your knees up to your chest. Your pussy twitches, his cum spilling out and sinking down your ass.

He lets out of primal groan from the back of his throat before smashing his mouth on your cunt, sucking your clit and tongue fucking your hole like a cream filled pastry. You feel the descending bob of his Adam’s apple against your rear as he swallows the mixture of your cum, drinking it like liquid life from the source. “We taste—so—fucking—good, Princesa,” he taunts, tongue lapping your little clit in quick succession before shaking his head back and forth aggressively against your mound, smearing the obscene mixture across your folds and making a mess.

Oh fuck, he’s so gone.

He quickly gets on his knees, turning you over on your stomach like you weigh nothing. His hands grip around your hips, bringing them flush against his crotch again as you arch your back for him. He puts his palm on the small of your back, keeping you right there, pressed tight against him as his cock slides back into your eager and cum coated cunt.

“Fuck yeah,” he groans, setting a faster pace this time. You hadn't realized just how much Frankie was holding back the first time you had sex. He leans over your body, hands splayed past your shoulders, fisting the bed as he rails you deep, his thighs crashing against you with harsh slaps. Your temple lands against his cheek, meeting eye contact. He smiles, breath caught in his throat like running a mile at your fucked out expression. 

He continues to fuck you like an animal. A soft hand grips your chin lovingly, tilting your head further back so his lips meet yours with each punishing grind. You’re surprised by how much you love the hold he has on you, willingly submitting to him without being told. Drunk on each other’s lust.

You suck greedily around his tongue, hand reaching behind the two of you to play with his soft brown curls, refusing to let him leave your mouth. He stutters with a few more thrusts before halting, eyes scrunched closed. “AUUGHHH—haaaahh!” You feel the twitch of him inside you, draining his balls some more of his plentiful seed. 

“Fuck, fuck I love it when you cum inside me!” You confess. The action makes you fall forward, mouth burying into his pillows as you muffle your own cry of your release again.

He pulls out of you and flops to the bed. You think maybe he is done, after having cum twice now, bur Frankie is quick to bring you to straddle him, his dick never once softening as it presses incessantly to your entrance again. He licks his lips, watching his cum spill down your thighs, right to his creamy cock that refuses to fully part from you. 

“Frankie,” you moan, unsure if you can take him again.

“Want you just like this. Ride me,” he breathes. He’s covered in sweat, out of breath and shaking with a mix of exhaustion and adrenaline if it were possible. His hands gently wrap around your waist as he guides you. Eyes so lidded, transfixed on the area where your mound slowly swallows him again.

You’re nodding, body taking over all actions, completely starved for the man under you. 

He leans up to get a good look at you, taking it slow, burning this in head to remember.

"Thought about you... everyday.” He whispers, mouth parted in lust, gliding your hips along with steady rolls. “Couldn't sleep."

His hands down along the curve of your ass, to your thighs spread out over him, before rubbing up the length of your back, holding you as close to him as he can possibly bring you, your tits pressing against his chest. He struggles to breathe evenly as your creamy pussy continues to tighten around him each time he breaches you, the two of you moaning softly into each others’ open mouths. He occasionally catches your lips, slotting perfectly as you grind against him.

His mouth finds its way back down to your pebbled nipple, biting gently before kissing it better. He brings his face back to yours. “So perfect for me,” he whispers.

You start grinding on him more fervently, lifting yourself on your knees ever slightly and baring down on him. He grits his teeth, sinking further down into the bed, eyes never leaving you as his digs his nails into the meat of your hips, forcing you to bounce harder. 

“That’s it, baby. Ride me just like that. MY girl, my beautiful girl.”

You bite your lips, feelings your clit catch on his public hairs. The sloppy squelching of his cum being driven out of your heat by his thick cock is no match to the heavenly sounds you were making atop him. The vein in his neck strains like he’s suffocating himself from air, refusing to slow down, to take a break, to let go for even just a moment.

“More. Give me more,” you moan, confidence soaring as you feel him begin to meet your hips with every thrust. “I want all of you, Frankie.”

He shouts out, lifting you up, his feet digging into mattress as he fucks you from below. “Fuck, fuck!”

You want to throw your head back, ride out this high, but the dangerous allure of him watching you brings your focus down to him, watching the way the two of you are getting off to the other falling apart.

“Just like this. You n’ me. Want it just like this. Forever.” He mumbles repeatedly, ragged pants uneven as he fills you the way you had been unknowingly wanting for months.  

You feel the build of your umpteenth orgasm building in your lower tummy. “Frankie-F-Franke! I’m—I’m gonna—“

“Do it, Querida, do it f-for me.” He thinks he can starve off the low build of his third orgasm of the night, just enough to make you cum for him once more.

You feel the heavy knot in your stomach snap. With absolutely no hesitation, no doubt behind your word, you cry out, “I love you!” as you cum harder than any time before.

Lifting you both practically off the bed, Frankie’s hips seize, pressed so tightly against yours there was no room between you. He shouts loudly, animalistic, snarling with his teeth baring at you and 0 control left in him, immediately emptying his load deep inside with each heavy pulse of his cock against your cervix, painting your walls white with the last of his cum that his balls could give you.

You collapse on top of him, the two of you sucking  air like you were underwater for years. Neither of you say anything, covered in sweat and cum, but finally being able to relax from the pent up release that’s been building there far longer than it ever should have been.

His hand rests against your lower back, somehow pressing your naked body closer to his. 

“I love you,” you whisper again to his collarbone. He brings your eyes to his, and this time he knows you mean it.

-

Frankie wakes to a cold bed.

His arm reaches out subconsciously for your body, but only feels cool empty sheets at his side. His eyes fly open, head sitting upright as he scans his bedroom. There's no sign of you. None of your clothes are scattered on the floor, no immediate trace of your scent. He feels a strong pain in his chest suffocating and stabbing him all at once.

He lies back flat on his pillow, fingers rubbing his forehead. He has two thoughts: the first thought, the one he'd rather think is true, is that it was all dream. You hadn't come home to him.

Before he could bring himself to consider the pain of the second thought, the fear is instantly squashed when he hears the door creak open, your sweet soft smile and gentle eyes landing on him.

‘Hiiiii,” you whisper in a singsong, gentle morning voice. Tip toeing bare foot on the hardwood floor, he see’s you’re dressed in nothing but one of Frankies slightly torn over sized, faded band T shirts that swallows your body. Your bed head still evident, eyes baggy yet happy from the events of last night.

He didn't realize he had held his breath the moment before you walked in, afraid that rather than having dreamt it all, that it did happen, and you had left him anyway.

"I made you tea," you hummed, setting the two cups down by his bedside table.

Your ears go red at the image of him: sheet pulled half way up his hip, his bare chest and torso visible as he props himself up with his elbows to get a good look at you. And the WAY he's looking at you, like you’re the only thing that matters in the world, has you sheepishly avoiding his big brown pupils, sliding in to the covers and nuzzling your head against his shoulder.

He wraps his arms around you, unwilling to let you sneak off again. “Don’t wake up before me like that again.”

You giggle. “Frankie, it’s 4 in the afternoon.” 

He checks his digital clock by the bed, true to your word. You both had fucked so hard, so long last night that he didn’t even realize it was well into the morning by the time you had drifted to sleep. 

He lies back down in bed, encircling you to him again. He can more clearly see the damage of last night’s episode on you: bite marks along your tits, hickies against your inner thighs and swollen lips. he doesn’t even need to touch your pussy, feeling its puffy soreness pressing against his leg. He kisses you gently yet passionately this morning, cradling your head so you can’t back away. Not that you want to—he doesn’t feel any resistance in your movements as you devour his lips. 

“I love you,” he says clearly. He can feel the way your breath hitches, the blush on your cheeks at the confession. “I love you, and I’m so sorry it took me so long to say it. I’m sorry I caused you so much confusion and I—“

“Okay, Fish. It’s okay. I know.” You bite your lip, pushing your hand against his chest so that he’s lying down on his back. “But I’m not sure I forgive you just yet.”

A brief moment of confusion wracks his face before you’re clambering on top of him again, your naked lower body straddling his under the sheet. You fist the t shirt of your head, letting your soft supple breasts fall. Frankie immediately grabs them tenderly with both of his warm hands, his breath quickening. His length twitches, hard as a rock and pressing right against his lower stomach as you glide your slick folds along him.

“I think you should keep making it up to me.” You align the tip of his throbbing cock against your swollen entrance and sink down, hands seeking purchase on his chest, scratching the skin there as he fills your sore cunt, taking him down to the hilt in one go.

You let out the tiniest, sexiest whimper, and Frankie is ready to drop everything he’s ever owned just to hear it again. So smitten with you, he’s grinning harder than he has his entire life. Like a big dumb idiot.

Your big dumb idiot.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Querida: I love you.”

Tagging people who either requested a part 2/3 or directly requested to be tagged. At least what i can remember (sorry if I missed you!)

- - - -

Series masterlist

Series Taglist: @paleidiot @pedropascalsbbg @tonakings @nerdieforpedro @thewritermj @ahintofkiwistrawberry @perfectly-imperfect-me23 @sammy-4103 @survivingandenduring @millercontracting @emilyjustemily @boiistfu @pedritoferg @missladym1981 @titlee78 @fairytale07 @multiplefandomwritings @steviesimp @marisemonteiroo @dilfluverrrrrrr @howdigetinhere @jessthebaker

Permanent Taglist: @harriedandharassed 

[bumblesimagines]

no, i've never met you before in my life.

don't give me that look.

we could try being friends.

Sarah Cameron

Pronouns: He/Him/His

CW/TW: Underage drinking, sexual content, cheating

Got carried away with this one🧍🏻‍♀️

Sparing a quick glance over her shoulder, Sarah unscrewed the cap of the flask while her friends huddled around her, subtly attempting to hide the flask from the adults around them. She took a quick swing of it and almost coughed at the burning sensation trickling down her throat before quickly passing the flask off to another friend. 

"Sarah! Come here a second, baby!"

She immediately straightened up at the sound of her father's voice, quickly wiping her lips dry before she spun around with a wide smile full of feigned innocence. Sarah shuffled through the crowd until she reached her father's side, her eyes flickering over to Wheezie questioningly but her little sister merely shrugged in return. "What is it?"

"I want to introduce you to an old friend of mine, sweetheart. We go-" Ward blew a raspberry, a hearty chuckle leaving him. The other two strangers present laughed as well, giving Sarah polite smiles when she glanced their way. "-way back. This is (F/N) and his wife, (M/N). They moved back a few weeks ago with their son, (Y/N). He's about Sarah's age, right?"

"Oh, yes, I think so." (M/N) nodded, dropping her arm from around her husband's waist and looking around the other guests bustling around until she spotted her son and waved him over. "He's currently studying online but it'd be great if you could introduce him to some of your friends, Sarah. Rafe has already been a pleasure showing him around."

Yikes. "Yeah, for sure! It'd be no problem." Sarah nodded, her fingers brushing back some blonde strands swaying with the light breeze passing by. Her attention turned onto the young familiar man who slinked up to stand beside his mother, offering her a quick peck on the temple before he turned to look at the Cameron. She stared at him, lips parted and eyes wide as he shook Ward and Rose's hands, his own body tensing when he finally looked at her. 

"I know you." Sarah blurted out because how on Earth could she forget him? When they'd met she thought he'd been just another touron visiting the island for the summer who'd manage to get invited to a Kook house party. (Y/N). The name rang a bell a little too late. Rose and Ward glanced between the two curiously.

"No, I've never met you before in my life. I'm sorry, you must have me confused with someone else." (Y/N) gave a little forced laugh and she squinted at him, her brows dipping. "But, I'd be happy to get to know you better, Miss Cameron. Maybe while we walk to the dessert table? I've been craving a slice of that cake since I first saw it."

At his words, the adults shared a laugh and chuckles. Ward clapped his hand over (Y/N)'s shoulder a few times, his eyes crinkled with amusement and his lips pulled back into a wide smile. "He's all you, (F/N). Always making a beeline to the desserts everywhere you go!" The adults laughed again, although Rose continued glancing between the two with uncertainty. 

(Y/N) stepped forward and offered Sarah his arm, letting her loop hers around it before the two parted from the adults and made their way through the guests, avoiding those dancing and mingling. Sarah peeked back toward her father and stepmother, ensuring enough distance had been made before she slipped her arm away from his and swatted at his stomach with a scowl.

"Oh, don't give me that look." He huffed and stopped by the dessert table, taking a quick glance over the treats available before looking back at her. "What'd you want me to say? 'Oh, yeah, I know your daughter because we hooked up at a party' doesn't sound great to say to a man you've only met twice. Do you even remember half of what happened?" 

"Of course I do!" 

"So, tell me, Spiderman," Sarah spoke teasingly, bringing the beer bottle back up to her lips and taking a gulp of the last of the liquid swirling around in it. She swallowed and set the bottle down between her crossed legs, her gaze drifting away from the Kooks partying below near and in the pool to look at the teen beside her. "Do you always climb onto the roofs at parties?"

"Sometimes." He grinned, his head tilted back to gaze up at the twinkling stars above them. "It's... nice to take a breather every once in a while. Especially at night when it's too dark for someone to call the cops on you." 

Sarah giggled and tilted her head to the side, her blonde hair tumbling over her shoulder and resting over her jean jacket. "Have you ever fallen off?" She asked, glancing at the distance between them and the ground. She was no stranger to climbing on roofs but she'd hardly call it a habit like he did.

"Nah," He clicked his tongue and looked at her. "I know when it's a good idea and when it's not a good idea. But, if I ever did fall, it's all part of the risk of taking adventures. I might break a bone or two but at least I can say I had fun."

"So, you're like... a daredevil?"

"Eh, you'll never catch me jumping out of a plane but climbing a water tower or cliff diving? Been there, done that." (Y/N) shrugged and her brows raised, a soft hum leaving her throat. Sarah ran her thumb over the rim of the bottle, unable to wipe the smile off her lips as the two stared at each other. He was handsome, a fresh face in a sea of people she grew up with, and held a soul for adventure just as she did.

Topper lingered in the back of her mind with his boyish smile and brown curls, but he was... boring, at best. Predictable and almost puppy-like in the way he trailed after her and her brother hoping to get a taste of that Cameron attention. Figure Eight saw it as something big when the Camerons liked someone, like a symbol that person was worth something. It was nice to befriend others easily but Sarah always feared they were after one thing or another. But with new faces who had no idea who she was or how much money her family had? She could be whoever she wanted. 

(Y/N) broke eye contact first, pushing himself off his hands and wiping them on his pants. "Come on, buttercup," He said, lightly patting her hip and carefully pushing himself up onto his feet. He wobbled a bit but caught his balance in no time, his hand dropping down and extending toward her. Sarah held onto it as she got up, her head bowing semi-bashfully when (Y/N) kept a gentle grip on it as they carefully made their way toward the open window. "After you, madam."

"Thank you, kind sir." She laughed, her index finger and thumb tightly wrapped around the neck of the bottle while the others pressed over the top of the window. She stuck her foot in and bent the knee of her other leg, feeling around blindly for the window seat until she felt the top of her sneaker press into the cushion. 

Carefully, Sarah ducked and tightened her grip on his hand as she took a step onto the window seat and fully entered the game room of whoever had hosted the party. Sarah vaguely recognized it from a distant memory of gathering around the pool table with friends and a drink in hand but the memory proved too fuzzy to remember who actually lived in the house. She finally released his hand and hopped down from the window seat, setting the bottle aside and offering her hand in return as he followed in after her. He landed beside her with a louder thump, though the hip-hop song blaring through the speakers downstairs drowned it out. 

"What are you going to do now, Spiderman?" Sarah asked, her veins tingling with the buzz of drinks she'd ingested finally taking effect. She watched him brace his knee on the window seat and tug the window closed, his fingers fiddling with the latch until it locked. "Going back to being Peter Parker for the night? Pretending like you give a shit about any of the people downstairs?"

"Are you talking about me or talking about yourself?" (Y/N) arched a brow at her playfully and stepped back from the window seat, taking a proper look around the dark, barely lit room. She chuckled softly and released a soft hum, unable to deny that while she loved her friends, most of the time she could hardly stand to be around them for more than a few hours. Her teeth dug into the inside of her cheek when he checked the time on his phone. 

"Are you leaving?" She asked quietly, the disappointment surprising her. 

"Maybe," (Y/N) shrugged and stuffed the phone back into his back pocket, raising his head to look back at her. "Might grab another drink or two... see if anyone's started a game of beer pong. If not, you and I could always start one and see how well of a team we make, Gwen Stacy."

"Mm, I don't feel like drinking." She murmured, her head lolling to the side and lips stretching into a coy smile. Nerves danced along with desire, mixing with the buzz and euphoric feeling spreading through her body.

Something about being intimate with someone always frightened her, scared her into drawing away from her boyfriends whenever they tried taking it to the next level. Some were kind about it, others got huffy and annoyed. In the end, she always dropped them before things could fully get serious, even if part of her earned for the closeness of a partner. Her friends always said a one-time thing a stranger would ease things for her, take away the chance of coming face to face with the guy again and having to face the fact she'd allowed herself to be fully vulnerable with someone. 

"And what do you feel like doing, buttercup?" (Y/N) mimicked her, tilting his head to the side as well and giving a knowing grin. She pursed her lips, her fingertips brushing over the rips in her shorts in deliberation. She thought of Topper and how he definitely wouldn't know what he was doing versus cool and relaxed (Y/N) who seemed like the sort of guy you could lose yourself in. 

Without giving it further thought, Sarah stepped forward and reached out, her hands curling around the collar of his shirt and pulling him closer. She pressed her lips to his, glad to at least be well-versed in the art of kissing, and dragged her arms around his shoulders. He tasted like beer and the subtle scent of his cologne filled her nose. His hands landed on her waist, fingers lightly digging into her warm skin. They explored her bare stomach and back before his arm curled fully around her waist and his other hand dropped to grasp the back of her thigh and lift her leg. 

Sarah giggled against his lips, a soft squeak following when she found herself backed against the wall by the window. She felt breathless when he pulled away to press messy kisses along the side of her neck, the heat spreading across her face only darting down to her lower belly and gripping her gut like a vice. She gasped and sighed softly, her hands moving to rest on his shoulders and digging her nails into the fabric of it.

Her jean jacket slipped off her shoulders and with a small wiggle, it slipped further down her arms. She moved her arms and heard it flop softly on the floor by her feet, teeth catching her bottom lip when (Y/N) explored the newly exposed skin. Sarah dipped her hands beneath his shirt and ran her palms along his stomach and sides, her back arching slightly off the wall and against him with each delicate drag of his teeth along her shoulder. Definitely the sort of guy you could lose yourself in.

(Y/N)'s finger hooked around the middle of her floral bikini top and gave it a swift tug, the laces undoing with ease and the top falling to the floor alongside the jacket. She shivered, the instinct to cover herself abruptly fading when his lips latched onto one of her hardened and sensitive nubs, a strangled whine drawing from her throat when his hand fondled the other. His leg pushed itself between hers and her hips automatically rolled against his thigh, her head lolling back from the combination of sensations. Goosebumps rose along her skin, hairs raising with each graze of his tongue and teeth against her. 

"(Y/N)," She exhaled and whined again when he hummed, his hand lightly squeezing the delicate mound of flesh as he pulled away, a string of saliva connecting his lips to her chest. He chuckled at the sight of it and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes jumping up to her half-lidded ones. 

"I've got you, buttercup." He pressed a kiss to the tan line on her shoulder, his fingers undoing the button and zipper of her shorts and slowly dragging them down. (Y/N) moved his leg and pushed the shorts further down until they fell past her knees and down to her ankles along with the rest of her clothes, her phone thumping softly against the floor when it slid out of the pocket. 

Sarah's arms slipped around his shoulders again when he grabbed her thighs and lifted her, her brain growing more fuzzy from all the sensations rushing through her body. Her lips dragged along the side of his cheek, leaving butterfly kisses behind. He gently set her down on the edge of the pool table, her legs dangling down the sides and cool wood pressing against the underside of her thighs. She reached again for his shirt and pulled it upward, latching her mouth on his when he finally took it off. 

Her back arched automatically when he cupped her chest again, his thumb running over her perky nipple while her hips grinded down against the wood. Sarah's head tilted back again, strands of her hair beginning to stick to her skin from the sweat forming and soft pants escaping her semi-swollen, spit-slick lips. (Y/N) wrapped his fingers on each side of the laces keeping her bikini bottom fastened to her body and pulled on them, tugging the fabric out from underneath her. Sarah's cheeks flushed at the notable wet patch.

"Lay back." (Y/N) told her and her thighs clenched together, a shaky breath leaving her as she lied back, feeling the green fuzz of the baize beneath her on the pool table rub against the heated skin of her back. She took a deep inhale when (Y/N) pried her legs apart, his hands hooked underneath her knees and holding her legs up.

Sarah gasped, her hands flying down to the top of his head when his tongue pressed flat against her slick folds, the vibration of his chuckle enticing another strangled noise from her. She felt hot and woozy, every lick and suckle sending another wave of heat and pleasure through her body. He released one of her legs to rub his thumb against her most sensitive bundle of nerves, the repetitive action ripping a cry from her throat; luckily muffled by the loud singing and rap song playing through the house. Her back arched off the table, her hips raising and grinding against his face desperately. 

While Sarah had envisioned her first time plenty of times, she'd always ensured to lower her expectations with each story her friends told her about their disappointing first time, most of them warning her to keep her expectations low on guys and them preferring receiving over giving. But (Y/N) seemed to find her reactions amusing, almost purposefully seeking out new ways to get her thighs trembling and voice crying with pleas. Her expectations had certainly raised, as had her standards.

When (Y/N) replaced his thumb with his mouth, the agonizing knot that'd formed snapped suddenly, her hips stuttering and trembling legs instinctively clenching around his shoulders as another cry tore through her. He chuckled again and kept his mouth on her as she rode through her high, the overwhelming feeling leaving her lightheaded and bringing tears to her eyes until he leaned back with wet lips and a soaked chin. 

"You good, buttercup?" He asked teasingly as he wiped his mouth again, his voice dripping with amusement at her heaving form. She swallowed, still reeling and unable to form the proper words to respond. Sarah stared at the ceiling above her until she could form coherent thoughts and slowly pushed herself up onto her hands, her hair brushing along her skin. He tilted his head at her. 

"'m fine." Sarah breathed with a soft laugh, wiping away some drool that'd trickled out the corner of her mouth. She ran a hand through her hair to push it back before leaning forward to kiss him again, groaning lowly when she tasted herself on his lips and tongue. Her body pressed against his again, his hands running along her legs and back soothingly. 

She reached down to his jeans, clumsily working on unbuttoning and unzipping them with still trembling hands. (Y/N) hummed against her mouth and pulled back to look down at her hands, a quiet snort escaping him once she finally managed to pop the button and pull the zipper down. His fingers massaged into the fat of her hip, his head lolling to the side and his gaze lifting to meet Sarah's.

"I wasn't expecting to sleep with someone when I got here, Sarah," Somehow, hearing her name rolling off his tongue only made her flush even hotter. "I'm gonna assume you also don't have any condoms stored away either, and I don't think you'd like waiting around for me to find a towel or rag in this big ass house." Sarah internally thanked Rose for being insistent on getting her on birth control the second she entered high school despite the embarrassing conversation that led up to it with her father. 

"I'm on the pill, it'll be fine." Sarah exhaled, her thumbs hooking into the waistband of his briefs and pushing them down as far as she could. She swallowed at the sight of his length, her lips pressing together. She'd seen plenty in her life; dumb drawings on buildings and school property, nudes a select few of her friends would show each other and laugh about, among other things. Still, she felt the nervousness return. 

"Buttercup," (Y/N) pulled her attention back to his face, his brows furrowed and head still tilted. "Are you a virgin?"

She pursed her lips, contemplating lying or saying some sort of flimsy reason for her reaction but ultimately, her shoulders sagged and she gave a meek nod. "It-It's not, like... I've had chances, I just... it never felt like the right moment."

"And now it feels right? With a guy you just met? At a house party?" His brows raised with each question and Sarah swallowed again, pushing back some loose strands over her ear and leaning forward to kiss the corner of his mouth. "Sarah-"

"Yes, it feels right." She murmured, scooting closer to the edge of the table and slipping her legs loosely around his waist, her fingers running along his length and savoring the shudder that ran through him.

Sarah leaned back to look down again, experimenting as she curled her fingers around him and slowly jerked her hand, taking note of each reaction and noise he made. She licked her lips and quickened the pace of her hand with each pump, feeling a hint of pride trickle through her when he groaned and dropped his head on her shoulder. She continued experimenting; squeezing, jerking, and trying different paces while focusing on what earned her more reactions. Sarah grinned when his hips jerked and stuttered, practically beginning to hump into her hand. 

Sucking his teeth, (Y/N) pulled Sarah's hand away and lifted her up and off the table, spinning her around with ease. Sarah blinked, lips parting to question him but a strangled curse left her when (Y/N) pressed against her from behind, pinning her lightly against the pool table. His length pushed between the plushness of her thighs, dragging along her slick folds agonizingly slowly. Her body bent over, her arms bracing against the pool table and her head falling forward with her hair spilling over her face. 

(Y/N) moved his hips slowly, rubbing himself along her thighs and her heat before his hands returned to her hips and pulled her back, only leaving her arms on the table. He drew back and Sarah inhaled, a quiet whine dragging out of her lips when she felt the tip push against her, her mouth falling open as he slowly pushed inside. Her nails dug into her skin, eyes squeezing shut as she felt herself clench instinctively at the intrusion. (Y/N)'s hand ran along her side before cupping her tit again, massaging the flesh gently. 

"Breathe, sweetheart." (Y/N) cooed from behind her, coming to a stop and waiting for her to regain the ability to breathe, only for the air to be pulled from her lungs again when he continued. Her hand fell over his, fingers wrapping around his palm as he continued fondling her chest. The hand on her hip dug into her skin, keeping her steady.

She sighed heavily when he bottomed out, drool dripping from her parted lips that she wiped away once she grew used to the new feeling of being full. "Shit." She whispered when he slowly drew back to the tip, hands planting firmly against the wood of the table and a long, whiny grunt leaving her when he pushed back in, moving slowly while she adjusted once again. 

"Relax," (Y/N) leaned over to peck her shoulder, moving his hand away from her chest and back to her hip, digging his fingers in and slowly moving her hips forward as he drew back before pulling her backward when he drew forward. Sarah's arms trembled, her toes curling in the inside of her shoes and her head tilting back. 

Eventually, the careful pace slowly quickened and Sarah's mind grew jumbled once more, pleas and noises escaping her lips as (Y/N) began snapping his hips in and out of her drooling cunt, the hands on her hips keeping her jelly legs from giving out on her. Her body swayed and jiggled with his movements, the filthy sound of skin slapping together combined with the soft squelch and noises made her skin burst with heat. The knot formed again quickly, each passing second reducing her mind to a mess. 

"(Y/N)!" She cried out in a half-sob when his hand reached down to rub against her clit again, teeth digging into her lip and nearly breaking the skin when the knot burst again and ripped through her; her body practically convulsing and one foot lifting and slamming against the ground repeatedly. 

(Y/N) hardly relented, his arm sliding around her midsection and pulling her back flush against his chest. He mouthed at her neck, his own grunts and huffs muffled against her skin. Sarah raked her nails along his arm, unable to do much else other than release broken noises and incoherent babbling while he chased his own high in thursts that began turning sloppy. Her head dropped back against his shoulder, squirming at the feeling of him pulsing inside her before she released a gasp at the feeling of him pushing deep inside, the both of them nearly staggering when he released. 

"Jesus," (Y/N) murmured, stepping back with uneven breathing and slumping down on the window seat before they could fall. Sarah went limp against him, running her fingers over the scratch marks on his skin apologetically and tilting her head to peer downward. Desire tightened around her gut at the sight of his release oozing out of her slightly, releasing a shaky sigh. She certainly wouldn't forget him. 

"I remember everything," Sarah told him, thankful her long flowy dress hid the way her thighs clenched together involuntarily. She inhaled deeply and snatched a strawberry from a tray, dipping it under the chocolate fountain before biting into it to distract herself from her vivid memories. "You could have said we met at a party or something!" 

"Not a good first impression either," (Y/N) muttered under his breath, grabbing a small golden plate and getting himself a few sweets. 

"Why didn't you mention you moved here? And my brother's been showing you around this whole time?"

"He invited me to that party in the first place, Sarah. I knew he had two younger sisters but he never said their names or described them. Besides, you never mentioned your last name and this place is packed with rich white girls who vaguely look like Rafe." (Y/N) huffed again, taking a bite out of a brownie and glancing over his shoulder toward their parents. "I never said anything about visiting. You made an assumption." 

"An assumption you never bothered to clarify!"

"Okay, look," (Y/N) sighed. "We could try being friends or we pretend it never happened-"

"Oh, is that what you do with all the girls whose virginity you take?" Sarah dropped her voice to a harsh whisper. "You 'pretend it never happened' to avoid talking about it?"

"For the record, I was fine with not going all the way. No, I don't go around sleeping with virgins, Sarah. The only other virgin I've slept with is the one I lost my own virginity to and she's still my fucking girlfriend." (Y/N) snapped in an equally harsh whisper, shoving the rest of the brownie in his mouth and swallowing it down with a drink. Sarah blinked at him, her jaw going slack.

"You have a girlfriend?"

"And you have a boyfriend. So, I'd say we're in agreement on pretending it never happened, yeah?"

[aures-fantasy-nook]

Hobbit/LOTR characters when their s/o is upset with them

yes i'm reusing this trope and i dont care its easy-- also lmk if u want more characters and which onessss :3

requests are open (seriously please give me ideas)

Thorin

honestly

his reaction is so dependant on when you're upset with him

if its during the journey he will notice right away

he refuses to go to bed angry at each other

he makes time for you guys to talk every night

if its during his dragon sickness bit

yeah

no

he doesn't give a single shit

telling him that you're upset doesn't even do anything except make him mad

like you're wasting his time

AND

not looking for the stone so like

what the fuck are you doing

if we're talking like after the war

everybody lives au ofc

it probably takes him a little while to notice that you're upset if you don't flat out say anything

he's just slightly busy rebuilding a kingdom

honestly when he does notice or when you tell him

he feels bad

he decides it's time for a break

even if it's just for an hour or two

will take you through the halls just to talk through things

or he'll sit and have tea with you

honestly whatever you wanna do he's down

you are his only priority

if only for an hour

Fili

i would say that he's probably pretty in tune with your emotions

hes a sweet dwarf

will make you tea because he knows your upset

sometimes forgets that hes a little shit

like doesnt realise that things he does can make people upset

let alone you

right over his head

you will have to sit him down and talk with him

he will feel bad immediately

will apologize

offers to make it up to you in any way he can

I feel like if this happens after like the battle and the reclaiming of his future kingdom

he might be a bit busy

but he wants to sit and talk to you every night before bed

even if its just for a few minutes

so when you went to bed without him one night

oh he knows he messed up

theres no way to misinterpret that

will wake you up with kisses and apologies

even if he doesn't know what he is apologizing for

hes just a big sweetie

Kili

sweet boy

another kind of clueless one

id assume that you probably get upset at him sometime during the journey

while yes he is sweet

he can be kind of neglectful without meaning to be

he feels like he has to prove himself to his uncle because he is different from the other dwarves.

has a lot on his mind

i feel like he deffo neglects your relationship at times bc of it

which is why you pulled back

not pushing for affection as much as you did before

letting him get himself into bad situations

reminding him to eat/sharpen his sword

setting up his bedroll while he goes off to help with camp set up

it takes him a couple days to realize something is off

bc he totally doesnt realize how much you're actually looking out for him

it hits him one night after dinner that his bed roll isnt set up? and its not next to you? and you're already asleep?

wait when did he actually sit down and talk to you last?

doesn't sleep that night, just sits and watches you while thinking back on the past like week

as soon as you wake up he's by your side and asking if you guys could take a walk before the journey starts for that day

you agree

he immediately starts apologizing and explaining himself

i think the best way to deal with it is to like

have a nice sit down and talk it out

maybe not right at that moment but

eventually you guys have a long talk where you both talk about how you're feeling with the relationship and just emotionally and i think that solves a lot

like he lets u know just how insecure he is bc of how different he is

and you can talk about feeling neglected

at the end of it all he promises to put more effort but also wants you to know that you dont HAVE to do all those things for him to notice you/love you

very healthy tbh

[mytheoristavenue]

MHA Eijrio Kirishima x Reader - Heart Can't Take It

Summary: You and Kirishima finally make up after a big fight.

Warning: Slight angst, fluff, make out, implied sex, tooth rotting sweet stuff

You've both giving one another the silent treatment for over a week now, even electing to be assigned new patrol partners at work. Was this the end of your relationship? Over a silly argument that, looking back, neither of you could even remember the reason for? He couldn't let that happen.

That's why he now stood at your door, still in his costume, hot off the clock. You both stated at eachother, almost forgetting that either of were ever angry, but he put his boot over the threshold anyways, just in case you decided to slam the door in his face. "Can we talk?"

Now you both stood in the living room of your apartment, feeling as if you were back in high-school with childish crushes on one another. "I miss you, babe." He finally admits stepping towards you.

"I miss you too," you repeat his sentiments, also stepping forward.

"'Fore we talk, can I have a kiss?" He asks, sheepishly, hoping a sign of affection will break the ice. You nod, cheeks burning and wait expectantly for a peck on the lips. Leaning down, his hands cup your cheeks and he plants the first kiss he'd given away in almost two full weeks onto your waiting lips.

Except, he forgot to pull away. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, taking his lips away just enough to move them before pecking again. "For bein' so stubborn." Another peck. "Shoulda come talk to you," And another. "Sooner..."

You couldn't keep the relieved tears from spilling down your cheeks back as you fell into the same pattern. "No, I'm sorry," you argued weakly in between kisses. "Shouldn't have yelled at you," You pressed another desperate hiss to his lips. "Like that..."

In such little time, you were both on your couch, sweetly making out, whispering sorrowful apologizes into one another's mouths. "Can't even remember," he pants licking away a strand of saliva from his lip. "What we...we're fighting about,"

"Me neither," you confessed, brushing your lips over his. "Whatever it was, it wasn't worth being away from you..."

"Agreed," he smiled, melting a bit at your expression. "Thought I was gonna die this week, can't stand bein' away from my baby."

"Me too," you lamented, hanging off his neck with an exhausted sigh. "Don't ever leave mee again, Eiji..."

"Wouldn't dream of it, babe." He replied with a grin cracking across his face, sharp teeth gleaming in the light. "Let's never fight again, 'kay?"

"'Kay," you agreed with a small giggle which became all the sweeter when you felt him begin to lift you off the couch.

"Now, how's about we make up for lost time, huh?" He asked playfully, cradling you in his arms as he stood. "Think skipping workouts, ordering in, and spending the rest of the day is in order."

Before you can say yes, he's already peppering kisses up and down your neck and carrying you off to the bedroom. "Missed you so much, baby," he murmured, laying you down at the foot of the bed. "Never wanna go another day without kissing this pretty face," To punctuate the statement, he presses a loving, longing, passionate kiss to your swollen lips. "Please don't ever make me, my heart can't take it!"

And then, through relieved sighs, and appreciative touches, you promise one another to never repeat the same mistakes twice. A senual and solum vow to remember your time as apart as a cautionary tale as to the consequences of miscommunication. Needless to say, you did bicker a few times after that, but there was never another time you both didn't immediately make moves to reconcile. Your pride wasn't worth going a second without being absolutely devoted and obsessed with one another.

[abiatackerman]

Morning kisses and pancakes

The sun's gentle rays filter through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. You're cocooned in blankets, still lost in dreams, while Levi lies beside you, his chest rising and falling with each steady breath as he sleeps peacefully, hugging you tightly.

As the soft light of the sun falls on both of your faces, Levi's eyes flutter open, adjusting to the soft light. His gaze lands on you, and for a moment, he forgets the world outside these four walls. Your hair spills across the pillow, and your lips are slightly parted. Vulnerable. His heart clenches.

After a long tiring week in the survey corps, you and Levi have returned to your "HOME" for the weekend.

The "HOME" which is a little bit away from the town and people. The "HOME" which both of you made together with love....

He slowly untangles himself from you, trying his best not to wake up. He sneak about of the bed to make breakfast for you. To him this is a gesture of how he shows his love for you.

Levi returns around an hour later with a tray. The tray is full with few fruits and pancakes. He learned how to cook after you both started dating. He knows you hate cooking since you're so bad at it.

He smiles slightly when he sees you're still asleep. He sets the tray down on the nightstand, then gently bends down and kisses your neck as he mumbles against your skin.

"Doll, wake up."

You just shake your head and hug his arm in return. Levi gently ruffles your hair as he kisses your cheek.

"Wake up, baby. I have made breakfast for you."

Levi has just called you baby, making you slowly open your eyes. He is extremely affectionate in private.

"I'm a horrible wife."

Levi gently kisses your forehead as you say that.

"No, you're not. You worked hard and you're exhausted. You don't have to cook or prepare breakfast."

He gently pulls you into a sitting position. Then, he picks up a strawberry from the bowl to feed you. You smile widely and eagerly take the strawberry in your mouth.

"What did I do to get a wonderful husband like you?"

"You married me, even though I'm a grumpy old bastard."

Levi mumbles as he gently brushes his fingers over your cheek in a soft, loving way.

"I love grumpy men... You know that."

You chuckle as you reply and take a pancake he made and moan.

"You're such a... Damn good chef."

"Yes, I know."

Levi says as your moans fill the air. Your moans are driving him mad. He can't help it. Every time you make a tiny noise of pleasure he can't help but get hard immediately.

"Doll, don't make those kind of sounds while I'm feeding you."

He speaks in a raspy voice making you laugh.

"Why not? Are you getting turned on?"

"I'm always-"

Levi quickly catches himself and bites the inside of his cheek, preventing himself from just blurting out the truth.

"I'm not getting turned on, Doll. That's gross."

Levi lies though you know he's rock hard by now already.

"You know um, though you were rough last night and that you're hard now....."

You speak as you gulp the last piece of pancake of your hand.

"We can have another love making session after breakfast... What do you say?"

"Yes, Doll. We can have another one."

Levi says in a teasing tone as he eats a pancake, he made himself.

"But only after we finish the weekly cleaning...."

You groan immediately.

"Oh Levi... Come on! Can't we just skip the cleaning for this week?"

"Doll, you know I have OCD. I can't just skip the cleaning."

Levi says in a slightly stern tone, though his eyes are soft . He eats the last pancake as he speaks again.

"It's only for a few hours and I promise, we can have another session today once we're done."

"Nope, we'll clean... But no sex. I'll be tired."

You say in a pissed tone. Because you know Levi's allergic to dust and that he will never skip cleaning.

Levi smirks slightly as he knows he has won the argument.

"Yes, Doll. No sex after the cleaning ."

He says though he knows you aren't being serious about no sex.

Because you both know, you can't keep your hands off him and he can't keep his hands off you......

[lil13]

REHEARSAL - j. champion

You're an actress on Scream VI and your scene partner is frequently Jack Champion. The two of you soon have to film a scene where your characters give into their tension and confess their feelings for the first time, ending in a kiss — and the directors want you to rehearse outside of set. You knew you'd have to kiss Jack eventually, but the thought of rehearsing the scene alone with him made you nervous.

•

It's nothing, right?

You had simply just invited your castmate over to your apartment to rehearse a scene that the directors asked you to rehearse. No big deal.

Jack Champion was one of your castmates and happened to be playing the best friend of your character. Except, both characters had secretly fallen for each other and confess their feelings, ending in a steamy kiss. Apparently, when you'd gone to film the scene the day before, the directors weren't convinced with your performance — they'd even called cut before you got to the kiss.

You had hyped yourself up all day for nothing.

A couple weeks ago you'd confided in Devyn, one of your other castmates — she played a character named Anika. You told the girl that you were pretty sure you'd fallen for your castmate and were freaked out about it. Devyn assured you that this feeling was okay, and if you had fallen for Jack, it wasn't the end of the world.

So, when you'd gotten nervous about your kiss scene, you confided in Devyn then again too. She assured you once again, that you'd be okay.

When you heard a knock on the wood of your apartment door, all air left your lungs.

You wiped the sweat on your palms off on your sweatpants before walking — nervously — over to the door. You'd tried on approximately 5 different outfits before settling on sweatpants and a tank top, even told Jack to dress down as well.

"Hi." Jack smiled once you opened the door.

Your heart skipped a beat and you immediately knew that running this scene would be difficult tonight. But alas, you pushed through.

"Hi." you echoed, stepping aside so Jack could step into the apartment.

Closing the door behind him, you told Jack where he could drop his things. When you saw him looking around, you remembered he'd only been here with the group, so he hadn't really had the chance to look around. You couldn't help yourself but walk right up next to him, nudging his body with your own. It was like you were drawn to him. 

"Like it?" you questioned.

He nodded quickly, glancing down at you. "It's cute."

After a couple minutes of small talk, you agreed to get started. Your characters were standing during the scene, so you and Jack stood in the free floor space between the couch and the small kitchen table you had.

You flipped a switch inside of yourself and began to act as Piper, your character in the movie.

"Um, hello? Are you forgetting something?" This scene was supposed to take place right after a frat party.

You'd gone with Ethan and the group to this party. Whilst there, you and Ethan had flirted some, like the two of you had been doing for the past few months. Long story short, Piper and Ethan had been friends since high school, both moving to New York for college. Piper had always felt something toward Ethan, but being with him at college and seeing how girls looked at him really solidified her feelings.

Jack furrowed his eyebrows, "What do you mean?"

"For fucks sake! When you went to find Tara with Chad I went to get another drink and when I came back all 6 of you were gone. You left me at the party." Your character was supposed to be out done with his. "What happened to never leaving friends alone at parties? I could be upstairs fucking a rando right now for all you care."

His face contorted as he stepped closer. "Piper, i'm sorry! Chad just grabbed me and we left... I forgot."

"Wow."

You were supposed to be mad, but also hurt.

"Piper..."

You shook your head, "No, no, no. Don't Piper me. Ever since we became friends with those people you've put me on the back burner! Do you know how much that hurts?"

Jack reached out to put a hand on your arm, but you jerked back. His facial expression fell.

Even though you knew it was acting, it still made your heart hurt.

"I'm really sorry, I just. Things have changed since we moved here."

You cocked an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. "Like what?"

"Us." his voice was quiet.

Piper was supposed to stay quiet at this point, taking a step or two backwards. This was Ethan's turn to speak.

"Piper, we've known each other since freshman year and I just... the way I, see you now. It's different."

The kiss was coming up soon and your heart was going crazy. But what you didn't know, was so was Jack's.

"Different, huh?"

Jack's eyes went wide, mimicking Ethan's panic. "Good different! Piper, these past couple of months i've seen you differently than before and it scares the shit out of me. It's like every part of me is itching to be around you 24/7, and when you're finally close it feels like nothing bad will ever happen to me."

You cracked a smile, this was when Piper was supposed to realize that Ethan felt the same. Your heart skipped a beat, thinking about how amazing it would be if Jack felt the same way as you. But that would never happen in a million years.

"You like me." Jack swallowed harshly, Ethan now realized that was Piper was saying was right. He 'liked' his best friend. "You like me!" The second time was Piper convincing herself.

Jack nervously scratched the back of his neck, "Yeah, I guess I do."

This was when you kissed.

Piper was meant to initiate it. So, you took a deep breath and followed through. If you were meant to rehearse a scene, why not rehearse all of it?

You closed the space between you by walking those few steps, your hand grabbing the back of Jack's neck and pulling his face to yours. Your eyes fluttered closed right as your lips met in the middle.

Butterflies. Fireworks. All of the above.

The kiss only lasted a few seconds before Jack pulled away, a smirk on his lips. That's when the scene was supposed to end.

You wiped your mouth off with the back of your hand, taking a couple of steps backwards. "I think we did a pretty good job, think the directors will be satisfied." You were nodding as you stepped back some, creating space between you.

Jack stepped forward, "I, uh... I think we should practice again."

He did? But you'd done so well. "Which part?" You were genuinely curious.

The boy was quiet now. Something that was rare.

"J?" you called him by the nickname you'd bestowed upon him. Unoriginal, but you liked it.

His eyes wouldn't meet yours. "The kiss?"

He'd been so quiet you almost missed it. But you hadn't. He had asked to rehearse the kiss.

Suddenly bold, you decided to play dumb. "The kiss? I thought we did fine, why should we practice? We can if you want to, though."

Jack saw right through your ploy.

You mentally cursed yourself. But the blush on his cheeks clued you into the fact that maybe you weren't the only one with feelings at the moment.

With your boldness still out to play, you continued. "Or, you could just kiss me as Jack and not Ethan?" This made Jack's eyes go dark.

A smirk twitched on his lips as he crossed the floor, ducking down to crash his lips into yours. He immediately picked you up, your legs wrapping around his torso as he held you as close as possible.

You couldn’t really believe this was happening. Jack was actually kissing you. Devyn was gonna freak out.

Your fingers went into his hair, playing with and tugging on his curls. You’d dreamed about the day you’d get to play with his hair and that day was finally here.

Jack walked over to the couch, his lips never leaving yours, and sat down with you now in his lap. His kiss was rough and passionate, but everything else was so gentle. The way his hands ran of your body? It felt magical, but he was so careful, almost as if he didn’t want to do something wrong.

After a couple minutes, you pulled away. A frown flashed on Jack’s lips and you couldn’t help but smile. Your hands held his cheeks while his rested on your hips, his thumbs caressing your bare skin due to your tank top riding up.

“Did I ever tell you that I think you’re really cute?” you laughed.

Jack blushed, for the second time that night, and dropped his head against your chest to hide it. You laughed even harder picking his face up so he’d have to look you in the eye again.

He tried to fight against you, but you won. “And when you blush it’s even cuter.” This time you kissed him.

When you pulled away, his face followed yours, almost as if he wasn’t ready for the kiss to be over.

“In all honesty, i’m pretty sure that scene went badly yesterday because I was nervous.” he chuckled, lifting a hand from your hip to tuck a strand of fallen hair behind your ear. “And until you said I could kiss you as Jack I still was nervous. I like you so much, Y/N.”

“Would you say you’re itching to be around me 24/7 and when i’m around it feels like nothing bad will happen?”

Jack’s jaw dropped and he playfully squeezed your hips, “Are you quoting my character to me?”

“I might be.” You said with a smirk.

A squeal came from your lips when Jack pushed you down onto the couch beside him, his hands attacking your sides as he tickled you. Laughter poured from both of your mouths. All you wanted was to kiss him again, his brown eyes looked like coming home. He made you feel like nothing bad would ever happen.

Eventually, you managed to control the situation and pull Jack’s face down to yours. Your lips connected in a way that it felt like they were always meant to. This was something you could definitely get used to.

“Oh my god, what did I walk into?”

You and Jack both made noises of surprise, the boy falling down onto you, his head tucking in your neck. Your hands held his head, keeping his face out of sight of your guest.

“Devyn, hey.” you casually greeted the girl, “I forgot I gave you a key.”

Jack pinched your waist at your confession. You pulled his hair in retaliation.

The girl laughed, “I came over to get my phone charger I left here last night, didn’t think i’d walk in to you hooking up. I know you’re freaking out though.”

“We’re not—”

“Bye!” She grabbed the cord and walked back out the door.

You were embarrassed, taking your hands away from Jack’s head and covering your face with them. Your face was burning in embarrassment.

Jack propped himself up, looking down at you, “Freaking out, huh?”

“Ok, I might’ve ranted to Devyn about how much I liked you. Shut up.”

[ronearoundblindly]

would you ever write an invisible reader? Like let’s say she’s an agent or a scientist. Quiet and stuff right? She always keeps to herself has the biggest crush on Steve but because she’s thinks she’s invisible she doesn’t ever think he might be interested too. There’s a mission she goes on and things go awry and she actually turns invisible. Something akin to how in the Fantastic Four movies they get their powers she gets this one? But it takes time to get under control. Steve thinks it’s his fault so he tries to help out. And through the the process of helping her gain back visibility she realizes Steve has seen her all along. Lol this really just came to my head when I was thinking about Steve using paint on someone’s body as a way to show them he thinks they’re art.

This. Is. Spectacular. I'm gonna fudge it a bit. Headcanon/stream of consciousness format. No warnings just canon-level "action." gif credit: @meidui

Erasure (Steve Rogers x junior agent!Reader)

My first instinct is to make it an ability to alter someone perception--i.e. you're constantly a little embarrassed of your input, so you tell people to 'forget you said that'--and let's say that constant hope that you won't be remembered badly is the innate trigger for your ability.

Probably a science experiment of Tony's gone wrong. He and the team are arguing about something that needs to be recovered before a damaged thing reaches critical mass. You sneak in to just grab what he wants and not waste time arguing. Tony doesn't know you're in there and locks the lab down until the dangerous pulse dissipates. (Steve doesn't know you're in there either because you popped in while he was facing and yelling at Tony, fwiw.) Maybe Tony saunters in once the doors open, finds you there with the part in your hand and knocked on your ass.

Your skin touches his as he reaches for you and the part. You jokingly tell him there's nothing to worry about, nothing to see here. You're surprised that he listens and walks off immediately, chatting and leading the team away down the hall to show them something else he's working on in the hangar bay.

Overall, once you catch your breath, you're fine. You don't want to go to the infirmary and tell them you did something so dumb.

Life continues.

Through a lot of trial and error, you realize what you can do--forcibly--by erasing people's memory of you being around. The head count for meetings is off. Several teammates you know you spoke to see security footage of you at the time and curiously remark that they don't recall you being there. Things like that. It works on everybody, or so you think.

There's a brainstorming session about how to infiltrate a possibly corrupt corporation's facility to gain intel. Everyone agrees to this elaborate rouse where two ripped agent dudes pose as janitors and blah blah blah. It's a little absurd.

You check the companies job listings, and knowing you qualify for one, submit an application the next day. The woman in HR who hires you doesn't work on the same floor as where you are technically snooping, and you can handle the work they actually want you to do in just a few hours a day, giving you a bunch of time to access nearly everywhere and nudge everyone to forget you were there.

The attempted break-in of fake janitors is the talk of the office on your last day, the one where you find the info Stark wanted to begin with, and then you quit, still quietly, returning to the Avengers the next morning.

You drop off the intel to Tony's office when he's not there, but just as you get situated back at your little desk, Steve comes up.

He looks concerned, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the flimsy cubicle wall.

"Feeling better?"

You're so confused.

"You were out for over a week. Did you need to go to the hospital? Was a family member with you at least? You could have called in for help."

On impulse, you grab his arm and tell him not to worry about you, yet he...doesn't move. After a flawless use of the power hundreds of times in a row, you don't understand.

Blinking up at Steve, you blurt, "I should be erased. Why are you still noticing me?"

He's bewildered, sure, but Steve tucks his head and smiles shyly.

"Can't erase you, doll," he chuckles, so soft only you can hear. "I draw you in pen--" Steve taps his temple "--up here..."

He bends down, his hand gently gripping your arm and his cheek touching yours.

"...now where you been for a week?"

And then, yes, some beautiful closeness and Steve paints on you to highlight what parts he drew so permanently on his mind!

🤗

a/n: Thank you for sending in this lovely idea, nonnie! I'm sorry everything I'm writing has been short and convoluted the last...while, but this is such a sweet premise. (Also, my apologies if you really, really wanted straight invisibility as the power. Just send in another ask, and I'll try to come up with an alternate version!)

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[randomshyperson]

As It Was - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: Secrets don’t last forever, especially inside a fantasy. But you make sure to kiss her hard before it’s time to go. | Based (slightly) on “As it Was” by Harry Styles. | Part Two

Warnings: (+18), some brief smut, it’s angst but sexy and hopeful ending, milf!wanda, age gap, ex-lovers meeting again, implied cheating and lying. | Words: 1.638k

A/N-> Not me writing Hex again. I want to write something about cowboys, but I have no ideas. Guess the only solution is not to write at all.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad | Song-Based Collection

-&-

It was supposed to be a one-night thing.

But Wanda was waking up in your bed again. Red hair sprawled on her pillow, a soft, satisfied sigh as she felt her muscles exhausted by the previous night's efforts. The feel of your lips is still fresh in her memory.

The natural instinct, not the first, because whenever she woke up in your bed her first reaction was to cover her body and look for the door. But the second was to look for you. Groping around the bed, Wanda opened her eyes as she felt the empty space. Before she could be overcome by guilt and brief irony that you would have been the first to leave this time, she found your figure. Sitting on the windowsill of the motel room, a cigarette between your fingers almost burned out completely.

It was still night, and Wanda wanted to look at you for a moment in the moonlight, to try to remember how beautiful your half-naked figure was. Not that she could ever forget.

"Come back to bed." She asked in a low tone, even though in a few hours, she would probably be the one to leave on the sly. With nothing more than a chaste kiss on your cheek.

You offered nothing more than a sad smile and Wanda knew immediately that something was different tonight.

Against the will of her own weary limbs, she forced herself up. Dragging the sheet wrapped around her body with her, until she was behind you, arms around your naked torso.

"Lie down with me, sweetheart." She insisted in a whisper against your ear. "We still have time."

You flicked the cigarette away, and entwined your hands together over your belly, but didn't move any more than necessary.

"I'm not sleepy." You replied, a little hoarsely. "But you can lie down if you want. I like to watch you sleep, you always seem... so peaceful and carefree when you do."

Wanda rested her chin on your shoulder, a smile playing on her lips. "It's how I always am around you."

You chuckled, weak and short. "We both know this isn't true." The direct statement surprised her, but Wanda just sighed the tension away and continued to hold you without pulling away.

"I'll be busy next week, darling. We should enjoy the little bit of time we have." She insisted last, hoping to win this argument. But you pushed your tongue behind your teeth and released one of her hands to push your hair straight back.

"What was it that you said it would make you busy, dear?" You retorted, and Wanda hummed distracted by the spots on your back. 

"Work." She grumbles, pleased to see you turning around, finally. But your gaze is different, a determined glint in your irises making her look at you curiously.

"I thought it was with the boys' soccer club." 

Wanda frowns, then smiles awkwardly, shaking her head. "Yeah, you're right. I guess I forgot." She mumbles, swallowing dryly at your watchful gaze studying her. She feels like she got caught in a lie, even if she didn't. Clearing her throat, she loosens you up. "I'm cold, I'm going back to bed. Are you sure...?"

You just nodded, and she sighed in defeat. She wrapped her arms around herself and moved to the mattress, but didn't get to lie down. She turned to you again, with a very queasy feeling in her chest.

"What's wrong? You're acting strange." She accused worriedly, and you hesitated before your shoulders relaxed. The forced smile on your lips didn't make you feel any more confident.

"I'm just tired of sharing you with him, but I don't want to have this conversation again."

"Babe..."

"I mean it, Wanda." You question her as you approach. "We don't fight while in our time together, okay? It's our agreement. And you're right, it is cold. I should be a gentleman and warm you up."

She opens her mouth to protest, but you kiss her firmly, swallowing her gasp of surprise and all the next ones until they become needy against your tongue. Her hands grab your shoulders, and close behind your neck as yours pull the comforter to the floor and drag her back to bed.

You've been together a dozen times now, Wanda remembers them all, and yet it seems to get better and more delicious each time your mouth is against hers, your fingers inside her most sensitive part as they are now. The innate talent you seem to have of driving her to insanity.

It started weeks, maybe months ago. Time is tricky. But it was in the spring, when the boys grew from 5 to 10 in the blink of an eye, and Vision decided there was something very wrong with their perfect life. And Wanda allowed herself to wonder about marriage, and about the people she left behind.

And you reappeared. Her former love from her youth was frozen forever in the 24 years of a volunteer who never returned from Hydra. It was like they told Wanda, no one survived contact with the stone but her and her brother.

So ever since you showed up, willing to continue a relationship that never came to an end for you, Wanda kept you. Part of her knows it's wrong, that you didn't see the truth, but the other can't bring herself to say goodbye to you a second time in her life.

"Yes! Oh, baby, right there-" Her moans are music to your ears. Wanda grips your hair tightly, keeping your face between her legs. You're too busy with the task of bringing her to climax in your mouth to look up and see the irises redden as the warm cheeks, but Wanda can feel you smiling against her. "Fuck, I missed you! I love-"

But she chokes on her own dizzy confessions of pleasure, breaking into a whimper as she cums in your mouth. You force your face against her, licking her clean until you come up again, to kiss her.

Wanda is tired, you two did this so many times last night that the recent orgasm barely lets her feel her legs.

"I can't anymore." She lets you know with a satisfied, exhausted sigh, smiling at the chaste kisses you deposit on her cheeks as she calms down.

Your laugh is short and hearty. "When did you turn into an old woman, Maximoff?" You tease amusedly, looking at her again. And Wanda stares back at you, raising her hands to stroke your face. 

Her eyes water. You haven't changed a bit, not a single trace. It's exactly as she saw you last time, so many years before in your mother country. Gone, just like you.

Her tears make you hesitate immediately. "Oh, baby, I was only joking." You assure, kissing the tip of her nose. "You're not old, I promise. You're beautiful, Wanda. And you're perfect, I swear it-"

She giggles tearfully, nodding softly before pulling your face against hers again. It's an intense kiss, but not as feverish as before. You rest into her, and Wanda strokes your cheek as you part.

"Don't lie to me, I know you're a heavy sleeper. What's haunting this pretty head of yours?"

You take a deep breath, hugging her. "It was just a stupid nightmare. It didn't even make sense." That's what you mumble, kissing her skin. 

"What was it about?"

"You." 

Wanda resists sleep. "Me?" But you slide your thigh between her legs, and the sensitivity makes her jump away. Your hands steady her waist, and Wanda grunts affectedly. "I don't think I can-"

"Nonsense." You retort with a mischievous grin, and Wanda realizes you've only laid down to get better access to her bare breasts, which you cup in one go, making her arch her back. You suck hard before releasing it with a pop. "You used to beat me at this, always the last one to fall asleep..."

Your fingers slipped inside again, and Wanda panted affectedly, one hand digging its nails into your back. "God, that was a long time ago!" She fought back with her eyes tightly closed, feeling her body twitch with the slow stroking inside her. But you just hum distractedly, gaining a rhythm inside her that makes her moan deeply. 

"It's odd." You confess in a low tone, sure that Wanda isn't even hearing your words by the way she's panting and squirming on the mattress. "I can't figure out exactly how much no matter how hard I try to remember."

She comes in a high-pitched cry, squirting onto your hand and all over the bed. The moan is pornographic enough to attract all your attention and push all insecurities to the back of your mind.

Wanda can't even keep her eyes open anymore. "'Can't…Not anymore."

"Shush, I know, you did so amazing, babe." You soothe her, removing your fingers and kissing her skin. "You can sleep, I'll take care of you."

Despite her exhaustion, she clung to you as tightly as she could. You sighed and waited to make sure she was asleep to relieve the dampness of the bed with the help of your abilities.

With the bed dry, and a sleeping witch, you got up and returned to the window. It took another moment to light another cigarette and pull out the phone card that had mysteriously appeared in your pocket this morning.

Agatha Harkness, magical consultant - it read on the back. On the other side, impeccable handwriting.  

"Come see me at this address when you get tired of pretending you don't remember everything you did for her."

With a sigh, you returned the card to your pocket. You offered the sleeping woman another look before leaving the room. The Westview Motel sign flickered when you closed the door.

-&-

Part Two

[soapsilly]

PDA - Zoro Imagine

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Spoilers for One Piece (?), also kinda NSFW?

Summary: Zoro showing a lot of PDA in front of Sanji because he knows it bothers him

Requests are closed

A/N: Unofficial sequel to Cardio. But works as a stand alone.

************************************************************************

"(Y/N)-san! I'm sorry I left you alone on this ship with this pervert! I promise I'll make it up to you"

"What did you just call me, ero-cook?"

"You heard me! If you just as much as put a single finger on (Y/N)-san I'll make you regret it"

"Sorry, to disappoint you, but I did a little more than that", Zoro laughed.

It's been a few weeks since the crew barged in on Zoro and (Y/N). Nothing really changed between them. (Y/N) was still shamelessly flirting with the mosshead and Zoro didn't really reciprocate - at least not in public. He was never the type for public displays of affection but when the two of them were alone, the swordfighter didn't have any problem to show the girl how much he enjoyed her company.

"You looked so good today", he mumbled against her lips.

"So usually I look bad?", she grinned - her smart mouth getting the best of her again.

"Too bad you still don't have a filter", he rolled his eye but didn't loosen his grip around her waist.

"But you love me for it", she laughed.

He exhaled audibly but didn't protest.

The two of them decided not to complicate things. They'd rather just let the relationship progress naturally. For the moment, neither of them would change a thing being happy with the way things were.

************************************************************************

"It's so nice to finally have some free time again", Nami sighed - already excited for a long overdue shopping trip.

"We shouldn't leave the ship unattended", (Y/N) nudged Zoro in the side not really caring about exposing her true intentions. She knew that her lover would be up for some alone time - which was confirmed by the smile that the swordsman failed to keep off of his face.

But it was not only (Y/N) that noticed. The mosshead's smile didn't go unnoticed by a certain curly-browed cook either.

"I'll be keeping you company, (Y/N)-san! There are a few new creations that I wanted to test out anyways", Sanji exclaimed.

(Y/N) was just about to protest when Nami's voice cut her off, "Yeah, that's probably a great idea. These two need a chaperone! We don't need any little Zoros and (Y/N)s running around deck!"

(Y/N) pulled a face, "Seriously? Sex has never ever sounded so unappealing"

"And don't you forget it!", the read-head scolded, "Always think about the full diapers and the disrupted night sleep"

(Y/N) tried to drown Nami's words out by putting her hands over her ears and singing loudly.

However, it wasn't just (Y/N) who had a problem with the thought. Zoro's eye darted over to where Sanji was standing. It was almost unnoticable but for the fraction of a second the cook's face twitched when Nami started her rant. At this moment, the swordsman got an idea to still make the afternoon worthwhile.

"Can we go now?", their captain interrupted the discussion - eager to raid the market place for street food.

Zoro threw his arm around a confused (Y/N)'s shoulder. This was the first time that her lover actually touched her in front of the others. Before she could say anything though, Zoro spoke up, "Yeah, you guys leave and we'll hold the fort here. Right, babe?"

"Uh, yeah sure...", (Y/N) blushed at the little nickname.

And with that the crew parted ways. (Y/N), Zoro and Sanji remaining on the ship while the rest of the crew made their way towards the city.

"So, it's just us now, huh?", (Y/N) tried to overcome the awkwardness. Spending a whole afternoon on the ship together with these two didn't seem very appealing to her. But surprisingly these two mortal enemies weren't at each other's throats immediately.

"Well, since our plans have been so rudely interrupted", the mosshead turned towards the cook, "Why don't we squeeze in a training session?", Zoro asked his girlfriend - his voice almost soft. After hours and hours of asking, (Y/N) had finally worn down the swordfighter. So, lately Zoro agreed to let the girl join him during practice. On one hand, her constant pleading got on his nerves so that he partly agreed just to shut her up. On the other hand, though, training with her meant he got to spend time with her. To him, she looked adorable as she was trying to figure out the steps and maneuvers. And if she ever needed correction with her stance, he wouldn't complain either.

"I'd say you're welcome to join us, waiter. But I don't think you could handle it anyways", Zoro mocked the blonde. And of course Zoro's words had the desired effect as the cook immediately started cussing out the mosshead - swearing to make him look old in any type of training.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. Of course, the peace didn't last long, "Oi, Sanji? Didn't you actually want to try out some new recipes or something?"

She didn't mind the cook's company but she knew if Sanji and Zoro were to actually train together, their competition would be anything but friendly and she didn't feel like a headache today. To her surprise, Zoro just shrugged though, "You can try, ero-cook"

And with that the three of them started their work-out. Almost provocatively Zoro took off his robe, showing off his body and sending (Y/N) a cheeky wink. He knew the effect he had on the girl.

"We should start with some stretching first", he announced - his arm already behind his back.

(Y/N) decided to get on the floor, working on her lower body first, whilst Sanji was bent over easily touching his toes without any issue.

"(Y/N)-san, you're so flexible~", the cook complimented the girl.

"Hm, I don't know. I think she could do better", Zoro acted thoughtful, as he walked over to where (Y/N) was standing, trying to reach her toes aswell. Her fingertips just graced the floorboards but that wasn't enough for the swordsman. He positioned himself behind her, his crotch dangerously close to her backside. With a gentle hand he pressed down on her lower back to help her bend over even further, so that her palms fully touched the ground.

With a soothing voice, her lover praised her and while (Y/N) enjoyed the personal attention, she'd be lying if she said that she wasn't confused. She wasn't used to him being so gentle with her when other people were around. What she didn't see from her bend over position however, was the look Zoro and Sanji exchanged. The mosshead sent the other man a gloating smile, which only got wider as he saw how blonde struggled to keep his composure.

"Oi, Marimo! When you're finished harassing, (Y/N)-san, how about a sparring session?", there was nothing he wanted to do more than to beat up the brute that dared to lay his calloused fingers on a lady. The cook was of the opinion that a beautiful woman should only be touched in the most gentle way - a word the marimo probably didn't even know.

Zoro barked out a laugh - (Y/N) long forgotten. Fighting with the ero-cook was one of his favourite past-times.

(Y/N) knew there was no way her lover would continue their practice anymore. Instead she decided to just keep exercising on her own and to leave the two guys to it - not feeling like getting into the path of fire.

After an hour or so, the two of them didn't show any sign of slowing down but the girl decided she had enough, "Hey guys? Guys? Oi!"(Y/N) clapped into her hands loudly to get the two frenemies' attention. Almost immediately the men stopped what they were doing.

"While I do enjoy watching two handsome men exhaust themselves physically", she sent Zoro a wink, "I think this is enough. I'll go take a shower and afterwards we should probably get started on dinner. You know how hangry Luffy can get"

"Of course, (Y/N)-san~", the cook was delighted by her compliment, "I'll create the most exquisite menu just for you"

The girl thanked her friend, by now she gave up on the idea of convincing the blonde that he didn't have to do all that. It seemed to make him happy, so she just decided to enjoy the perks of having the talented cook at her service.

"Great, while you do that, we'll go take that shower", Zoro spoke up.

(Y/N) head whipped around to face the mosshead, who could barely hold back a smile. He, however, wasn't facing her at all. His smile was not directed at her and her surprised reaction but rather at Sanji, who by the looks of it was not amused about his suggestion at all. (Y/N) massaged the bridge of her nose in no mood for these two to start fighting again.

"Okay, we'll do that", she grabbed Zoro's hand and pulled him with her. However, Zoro had other ideas. While (Y/N) was walking in front of him the swordsman's hands reached out to pinch the girl's sides teasingly which earned him a surprised yelp from his lover.

"Oi, idiot! Who do you think you are? Leave your dirty hands off of (Y/N)-san!", Sanji yelled towards the couple.

"Oh, does it bother you?", Zoro yelled back, "Good thing, (Y/N) likes it"

"(Y/N)-san! Just say a word and I'll save you from this... this... pervert!", Sanji's voice was soft as he adressed the girl but grew harsher towards the end - his dig clearly directed towards the marimo.

"Thank you, Sanji, I'll keep it in mind!", she yelled back at her friend as she tried to usher Zoro, who was loudly protesting the cook's claims -inside the Sunny towards the bathroom.

Once inside, (Y/N) let out an exasperated sigh, this isn't how she expected her afternoon to go. Zoro, however, didn't waste any time attacking her lips with his own. His hands everywhere they could reach.

"Oi, you okay?", Zoro asked almost nonchalantly when he realized that (Y/N) hesitated to return the kiss - as if he wasn't the cause of her desperation.

"Respectfully, what the fuck?", (Y/N) answered the mosshead.

"Huh?"

"I mean, I'm not complaining but how come you're so touchy-feely all of a sudden? And let me repeat. I'm not complaining. At all. It's just... unusual is all...", she rambled - not wanting Zoro to feel like he crossed a line.

"Oh, that", he smiled, "I noticed PDA bothers that shitty cook, so naturally I had to play it up"

"Of course", (Y/N)'s voice was sarcastic.

"Are you mad?", the swordfighter acted unbothered - like he couldn't see how that could possibly offend the girl - but in actuality he was worried that he took things a step too far. He knew she was okay with their arrangement. He know that it didn't bother her that he only showed affection towards her when the two of them were alone. She once told him that it made it even more special. But would she be okay with him suddenly publicly flirting with her just to spite the shitty cook? His eye scanned her face, searching for any sign of hurt. He couldn't always show it but he cared about (Y/N) a lot - more than anyone else in the crew.

(Y/N)'s face turned soft when she realized that the man in front of her was actually insecure. She reached out to cup his face and press a gentle kiss on his lips. When they parted, he was relieved to see her smile.

"Of course, I'm not mad! In fact, I think it's hilarious... if anything I'm mad that you didn't fill me in on it", she grinned, "If I had known, I'd have enjoyed it more"

"Oh, so now you didn't enjoy it?", this time it was him, that teased the girl with a lopsided smile on his face.

"I did! I really did! But my confusion kind of overshadowed the pleasure", she tried to assure him.

"Don't you worry", he started to undress her, "I'll take care of that"

His hands were gentle as he pulled her towards him by the small of her back.

"Who do you think you are? Touching me with those calloused hands", she scolded him. He paused what he was doing until she finally broke into a giggle.

"I can always count on you to ruin the moment", he sighed when he realized what she was up to. Quoting the ero-cook was the last thing he wanted from her.

"But you love me for it", she smiled up at him.

"Shut up", he leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss before leading her into the shower.

************************************************************************

When the two entered the dining room after the shower, the kitchen was already filled with the steam from whatever the cook was preparing. The two were greeted with the most delicious of smells. (Y/N) sometimes seriously asked herself how the cook could be this good and still improve with every meal he prepared.

"Wow, Sanji this smells great!", she beamed at the blonde, who by the looks of it couldn't be any more pleased about the praise. After all, the way to a loved one's heart is through their stomach.

"And this is only the beginning (Y/N)-san", the cook explained happily - hinting that there'd be more to come.

"Is there anything I can help you with?", she asked the cook, knowing he'd probably decline.

"You are too kind, (Y/N)-san ~ ! But I couldn't possibly take you up on your offer. A beautiful lady like you should never have to prepare her own food - in fact, you should be served~"

"Oh, but I insist", (Y/N) smiled. Anybody that knew her also knew how stubborn she could be, so after a little back and forth Sanji eventually agreed to let (Y/N) stirr some pots and maybe even wash some vegetables.

Zoro decided to take a seat at the dinner table, watching the two of them do their thing whilst enjoying a drink. He would never admit it but watching (Y/N) do mundane tasks was one his favourite things. He loved seeing her being lost in whatever she was doing. The way her brows creased whenever she was concentrated or how she started mumbling to herself if things didn't go her way. This was more than a innocent flirt and even more than a friends with benefits type of arrangement - at least for him. Her company was one of the few pleasures his life had to offer. At first he was annoyed by her everlasting presence, the way she wouldn't shut up, the constant flirts but now he couldn't imagine a life without her. He was so lost in his thoughts that he wasn't even bothered by the shitty cook prancing around her.

One after the other all the Straw Hats arrived into the dining area - just in time for dinner. As everyone gathered around the table, the space next to Zoro remained free. By now, the crew was used to (Y/N) exclusively sitting next to the swordsman. When she finally plopped down next to him, her hand almost automatically found it's way to rest on her lovers leg. Zoro didn't seem to mind the PDA. Usually, the girl refrained from touching the mosshead while in the company of the others - respecting his boundaries - instead only choosing to show her affection verbally. But right now, she decided it was fair game after the stunt the swordsman pulled on her.

"And what do you think you're doing?", Zoro leaned down, speaking lowly so that only she could hear him. (Y/N) could hear the amusement in his voice.

"Do you want me to stop?", she turned to face him - their faces now merely an inch apart.

For a moment it felt like the world stood still around them but then the two lovebirds were interrupted by their navigator.

"Come on, guys! At dinner?", Nami was not amused about the scene that unfolded before her very eyes.

"Seems like Sanji isn't the only one bothered by PDA", (Y/N) grinned but her voice was soft.

"Well, if that's the case, it seems like I'll have to keep this going", Zoro answered - his voice just as low.

Both of them knew that all of this may have started as a means to annoy the cook but by now it was merely an excuse to keep the open display of affection going. Seeing (Y/N) in private was just not enough for him anymore. What harm could a little - just a little - PDA do anyways?

"The things you do to me", he slowly shook his head.

"But you love me for it"

Usually, Zoro easily dismissed her little catchphrase but this time he couldn't quite deny it. Maybe he did. And maybe she knew that. But maybe that wasn't so bad...

[moonydustx]

The Night of Confessions.

masterlist | requests

Summary: After finding the ship's crew member who was invading the kitchen at night, Sanji and the reader become friends. What can please a cook to thank for the good friendship?

Warnings: lots of flashbacks (all in italic), takes place a few weeks after part 1. reader with some insecure thoughts. a hint of a sad reader, fluff in general. sorry for possible errors, story not proofread.

WC: 3.3k

Pairing: Sanji x F!Reader (more thought of as OPLA!Sanji, but I've been loving the anime, so feel free with your choice).

A/N: A total of zero people asked and I still did it! In fact, I had thought of 3 parts for the story (the last one would be a smut that I'm still really thinking about, since I have an idea for the same theme for Zoro). That's it, I hope you like it and who knows, maybe I'll come back with more of this soon.

Read part 1 here

Before you even opened your eyes, your hands involuntarily searched for something on the other side of the bed, unfortunately finding only the unoccupied sheet.

"Good morning, Miss." Sanji's voice reached your ears before you could even open your eyes. "

Good morning. Wait, is it daytime?"

"Yes. I believe someone managed to sleep well tonight, no nightmares." he turned towards you. Even though you were drowsy, you leaned on one of your elbows, getting closer to him.

"Yeah, I believe so." You didn't know where your eyes would go, to the disheveled blonde locks, to the almost shy smile or the clear eyes that stared at you.

You could see his eyes looking at you too, but neither of you took the right action. At least the attitude you expected. Sanji could feel your breath on his face, your eyes shone when you looked into his, enough for him to come to his senses and move away.

"I-I..." he stood up, adjusting his shirt. "My dear, I will prepare breakfast and as soon as it is ready, I will call you." he headed towards the door.

"Sanji?"

"Yes mon amour."

"Thanks."

You were unused to sleeping alone, at least compared to before. Not that you would accept any company in your room.

It was just a few nights that he spent in your company. With each one, you discovered a new thing in common.

It was difficult to understand what you felt, it was strange. It was as if all the breezes coming from the sea surrounded your stomach, or even as if it didn't matter that they were still far from the Grand Line. It was okay to take longer to achieve your goals, as long as you stayed with your crew, everything was okay. What you didn't expect was the distance.

Damn, damn distance. Little by little you noticed him moving away from you. He wouldn't leave you alone, ever, but something was slowly cooling down and that was much more intriguing than anything else the other seas could bring to you.

Even though you weren't ready to face the day, you stood up and walked to the kitchen, finding the person responsible for so many doubts in your mind. How could a damned cook leave you lost like that? Had you asked too much of his help? Or had he simply gotten tired of being your friend? What was that strange feeling again? Damn, this wasn't the time to think about that.

"Good morning Ji." Your voice caught his attention, and he smiled in your direction.

"Good morning darling. I hope you slept well." you sat in front of him, watching him cut some fruit. An idea, perhaps not the smartest, crossed your mind.

"Too much. And you?"

"Good." He remained silent for a few seconds, focused on something that looked like just a simple apple.

"Finally fell out of bed." Zoro walked past you, sitting next to you and grabbing some breakfast.

"Look who's talking, you're a walking mummy. You're constantly bandaged up and sleep everywhere." you retorted, laughing at his face.

"Let's see if you say that later." Zoro's words immediately reached Sanji, who no longer insisted on pretending not to be listening to the conversation.

"Let's see who lasts longer, cucumber head. Don't forget my order." you lightly elbowed the swordsman, who just grunted. "You promised!"

"Why don't you take it yourself? I was thinking about spending some time on other things."

"I don't think I'm going to disembark today. I'm not feeling very well." As soon as the words left your lips, Sanji's attention became all yours.

"Is there anything I can help with, ma'am?"

"No, no Sanji. Women's problems."

"One more reason for me to win today!" Zoro returned the elbow, this time making you groan. Before Sanji could curse him for the measly push, he had already left you alone.

"Maybe I can make some tea, get something ready. All you have to do is tell me, darling."

"Don't worry about it. I'll rest a little longer." You left, leaving him alone, watching you and questioning why you refused help.

You just couldn't say it was part of your plan. As they were already used to, whenever they anchored in a town or city, they would spend a day exploring the nearest areas and return to the boat at dusk - if they weren't lost in a bar - to decide whether to stay longer in the place.

You waited until you were sure everyone had left the boat to put your plan into action. Would it be a good idea to cook to please a chef? Maybe not, but it would be worth a try. At least, you already understood a little of the recipe you needed to make.

"You won't eat cold lunch food again." once again, you were scared by Sanji's presence in the kitchen. He soon stood next to you, taking the plate. "What do you want?"

"To cook!"

"Now I'm surprised. The night's sneaking out for a snack really inspired you. What are we going to do then?"

"How about some pasta?" you suggested, already eager for the answer. "I know this isn't the best time to eat this, but..."

"If it's pasta my girl wants, we'll make pasta. What will we need?" He left it up to you to respond, laughing loudly when he noticed your confusion. "You really don't do well in the kitchen, do you? I'm glad I'm here."

Flour, eggs, salt. Okay, the first ingredients were easy. Maybe it was too early to start the recipe, but you didn't want to run the risk of him arriving early and catching you in the kitchen.

It took hours for you to get the right doneness, but the pasta strands looked perfect, now all that was left to do was cook it and add it to the sauce, which you had a vague idea of ​​what to do.

"How much longer do we have to wait?" you indicated to the pan full of water.

"Until it boils." Sanji warned, adding generous spoonfuls of salt to the water.

"Wouldn't it be too salty?"

"No, honey. When we make this kind of pasta, the water needs to be hot as hell and salty as the sea." he took a spoon and poured in some of the liquid, blowing gently as the smoke dissipated. "Try it."

His laughter upon seeing your disapproving face filled the entire ship and certainly must have disturbed the other crew members who were sleeping there.

"Hot as hell, salty as the sea. Got it."

"I knew someone sweet like you would hate this, but in the end, the recipe will be delicious. Someday, I'll make the seafood version, you'll love it, it's my favorite."

Tomatoes, shrimps and tuna. It was enough to make the sauce. You didn't want to invent much more than you knew how to do and even so, you were already feeling afraid of what might come out of it.

The day was already ending when you finished making the dish. Pasta with seafood sauce. Probably a much simpler version of what the crew cook would make. You arranged some cutlery on the table, prepared a juice with tangerines and tried to get as many things ready as possible.

"What are you doing?" the scream that came out of your throat was almost involuntary when you heard Nami.

"What, are you guys back already?"

"Just me for now." she explained, coming around the table. "Who did all this?"

"Not the official cook."

"Weren't you feeling bad?" She laughed when she saw you disconcerted. "I knew it was a lie. You asked me for help with that two weeks ago, remember?"

"Okay, maybe I was just trying to get the boys off my back."

"What I don't understand is that we already have a cook..." she put her hand on her chin, analyzing you "Do you want to take his place..."

"Never! I love Sanji's cooking!" you responded almost immediately, leaving her euphoric with the conclusion.

"I knew it! You want to impress him. You like him! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it, more money for me."

"What do you mean Nami?"

"You didn't deny it, so I'm right." trying to leave the topic of money aside, she turned you around, pushing you towards your room. "And for that, you'd better take off your soaked clothes. Get ready, I'll cover you if any of them show up."

Before you could question anything, Nami was already leading you into the room. And she was almost right, in every proposition. Firstly, you didn't just want to impress Sanji, you wanted to thank him for the time he spent being a great friend and maybe make it up to him for you upsetting him so much the last few weeks. And second, you didn't just need to change, you would need a shower to remove all the shrimp smell from your body.

With a speed you didn't yet know, you managed to do everything. Take a shower, fix your hair and choose your favorite outfit. You were ready, which made you even more nervous.

As soon as you left your room, you could see Nami breathe a sigh of relief, at the same time as the other crew members rushed into the kitchen.

"Finally. I thought I was going to need to yank you away from the door." Zoro was the first to enter, soon followed by Luffy and Usopp.

"What's that smell? Sanji, did you leave a feast ready for us?" Luffy already went straight to the table, earning a slap from Nami. "I'm hungry."

"With that smell, it's impossible not to be." Usopp added, getting slapped as well.

"Everyone eat together." she warned.

"What does it smell like..." Sanji was the last to enter, finding the table set. "What is that?"

"Well, um." you took the lead, feeling your legs tremble. Your eyes were lost in Sanji's "You've been... I mean, you've all been great friends. I wanted to prepare some delicious food for us."

"But Sanji already does that." Luffy spoke and you knew it was in the best interests, which made you laugh when you saw Nami's face at him.

"I know, I just wanted to maybe surprise you with something different."

"Then let's fill our bellies, because later I intend to fill myself with drink." Zoro settled down, picking up one of the plates. "And if it turns out good, your drink is on me today."

"Oh, of course." you replied and despite smiling, you were focused on something else.

Sanji was still standing at the door, observing the table and almost without meaning to, his gaze crossed yours. You could see them glow from afar and at the same time, you could feel your stomach churn with anticipation to know if he had liked the little surprise.

Everyone sat down to dinner and from what you heard, you were satisfied with the food and eager to tell you everything you had seen in the village. Except Sanji. He seemed intent on eating from his plate, savoring every bite.

"It was incredible!" Luffy said, finishing turning the plate into his mouth "It's good to know that we have someone who knows how to cook besides Sanji."

"Best food I've ever tasted." Zoro said and it didn't take much for you to know that he was just saying that to provoke the other cook.

"You never said that about my dishes!" Sanji's grumble made everyone at the table laugh, including you, partly because of the comment, but mainly because he had finally said something.

"You've never done anything good like this. I think now you can go back to being a waiter."

"Both foods are amazing, maybe you'll work well together." the malicious tone didn't go unnoticed in Usopp's words, making your face burn with embarrassment.

Before you could find words to respond, Nami noticed your little desperation and stood up.

"Belly full, time for Zoro to buy our drinks."

"It wasn't you I promised. Let me go, woman!" he grunted as Nami pulled him to his feet.

"We go ahead and they find us later." she suggested, hoping everyone would understand who should remain on the boat.

"But I'm still hungry." Luffy complained and one look from Nami was enough for him to stand up. "Okay, I'll go with you, but I better have some snacks."

"I'll stay here, help our cook organize things and we'll meet you there." Sanji spoke, causing Usopp to also get up and follow the three others.

As they left, you took the opportunity to start taking the dishes off the table and as soon as they were alone, you saw Sanji leave the kitchen. The anxiety that maybe you had been too clingy gnawed at you.

"Have you seen Sanji?" you asked Nami, who seemed distracted doodling something.

"Nah, he's probably stuck in the kitchen, inventing something."

You hurried along, playing cards dancing between your fingers until you found Luffy attacking the fridge. "

Ah, hi! I was just checking to make sure everything was ok here." He spoke with a mouth full of meat, making you laugh.

"Have you seen Sanji?" "It must be in his room. If you can, please don't tell him what you just saw." he smiled, amidst the pile of food.

"Leave it captain."

You went to his room, gaining the courage to knock on the door three times and hear a "Come in" from inside.

"Excuse me." you hung your body inside the room. "Everything is fine?"

"Of course, miss. Is there anything you need?"

"I wanted to know if you wanted to play cards with me. I almost didn't see you today." you proposed excitedly, a feeling that didn't last long.

"I'm sorry, I think I'd rather be alone for a bit."

After that, the late-night cooking trips stopped, and he seemed to flirt less with you, which gave you less space to respond. Maybe you were a very clingy friend, and maybe Sanji didn't like that.

The water ran while you stood still, immersed in your thoughts. What you didn't expect was to feel two arms around your body, turning off the tap and pulling your arms away from the sink.

"Leave it, mon cher." He turned to you and with some gentleness, took off the apron you had just put on. "You already made dinner, I'll take care of it later."

"Did you like it?" The words left your lips involuntarily, leaving you disconcerted under his gaze.

"Pasta with seafood sauce?" he waved with a smile, as he picked up two glasses.

You leaned against the counter opposite Sanji's and only then did you notice the bottle of wine next to you. Now his little disappearance made sense.

"The best dinner I've had in a long time." he placed the glasses next to you.

The two of them were alone there, just the two of them in the entire huge ship. Why was he so close to your body? Only a few centimeters separated them as he filled both glasses.

"Serious?" Sanji could melt right there when he saw the light in your eyes when he heard the praise. And he didn't make a point of hiding his smile because of it. "I mean, I just followed your recipe from that day."

"You said..." his smile faded, taking on a more serious tone as he took a sip of his drink. You, a nervous chaos, had almost completely turned the glass over. "You said you did all this, that it was because we were good friends..."

"Let me explain." you interrupted him, touching your hand to his chest involuntarily. Again, your brain seemed not to follow your feelings. "I know I didn't explain it well at the time, but you've been a great friend. Helping me with my sleepless nights, teaching me new things. I mean, I know I'm a little clingy and I understand you wanting some space . But today I just wanted to do this to thank you for everything you've done for me these days. You've been an incredible friend."

Before answering, he immediately put his glass aside. The hand that held the drink soon found your chin, gently lifting it so he could look you in the eyes. His hands gently cupped your face, in an affable gesture.

"I don't want to be just that. I don't want space either." he laughed, as if it were a joke that only he understood.

Your eyes were lost on Sanji's face. It was as if something pulled you and left you immersed in it, almost hypnotized.

"I don't want to see you awake at night scared, I don't want to have to leave you here alone on the ship when you're not well. I-I don't want to see you making appointments with that idiot swordsman. I-I..." all the his euphoria seemed to fade, the end coming out as just a whisper. "I don't just want to be your friend."

No warning, no permissions or no questions. Almost immediately his lips found yours softly. A long peck, testing the waters ahead. Your hands, previously hanging, found the face of your favorite cook, giving him the little courage he still lacked.

You could feel his kiss invading your mouth and heavens, that was what you expected. His hands dropped from your face and ran down the side of your body, until they reached your waist. The small cry of fright was muffled by Sanji's lips as he grabbed you by the waist and placed you on the counter, fitting himself between your legs.

You could sink there, you could let the air escape from your body and you would still die happy, but soon you felt it invade your lungs in a quick sigh, as Sanji's lips descended towards your neck, proving a path of goosebumps.

"Sanji." the damn heaven was there, hearing your voice calling him like that. Not even All Blue itself would be better than that. "Ji, wait."

His lips moved away from yours, but he didn't make a point of taking you off the bench, or taking his hands away from your body or at least disguising the fact that he couldn't stop looking at your lips, or your eyes, or any part your.

"So, you're not tired of me?"

"I just needed to get my head straight." he replied, his fingers exchanging some misunderstood pattern on your hips. "All I could think about was you and I was afraid that maybe it would go too far. That's why I took distance."

Instead of responding with words, you just sealed your lips with his, who seemed unable to contain a smile with such action.

"Even though I like it here, I think we should go. They're probably waiting for us." you warned, but Sanji just pressed your body tighter against his.

"We have drinks here and from what I remember missus, the herbal tea worked that day, so you owe me a drink."

"You have no proof." you teased him, already anticipating the comment he would make.

"If you don't remember, I slept next to you that night." he replied, as you predicted. "If you prefer me to remind you, I can sleep today, and tomorrow, and then..." with each word, he stole another kiss from your lips.

"But, I believe we should stay here, from what I remember, you weren't feeling very well today."

"Haven't you realized yet that it was a lie to stay alone on the ship? It seems easy, but that dough gave me a hard time, it took me all day to make it and..." you saw him threaten to open his lips for a laugh or some comment sarcastic about his culinary skills. "One word about this and I will now accept the drink Zoro was going to buy me."

"Lucky for you, your boyfriend is a great cook and you'll never have to worry about that."

"Boyfriend, hm?"

"For now. I don't plan on letting you go anytime soon." your lips were captured again and you finally understood that damn feeling. The sea breeze inside your stomach, the tremor in your hands and the heat in your body.

"Better not let go, cook."

[pariahsparadise]

ye of little faith | e. p.

nav. | m.list

summary: eustace doesn't believe that edmund has a girlfriend.

wc: 800

pairings: edmund pevensie x fem!reader

warnings: VERY unedited. also it's 1am and i just wrote this in a burst of inspiration, so please don't expect it to be good.

a/n: i don't really know if this will make sense to anyone lol, i think i wrote it in a confusing way, but hopefully it's okay. it's mostly eustace's pov, i wanted to try something new. also, this exact scenario has been in my head for months now.

“There’s no way he has a girlfriend,” Eustace tells Lucy, barging into the room. She immediately knows who he’s talking about, able to hear Edmund on the phone downstairs, voice softer than it usually is, taking the tone he automatically opts for when he speaks to Y/N.

“Why?” Lucy asks, half-heartedly entertaining her annoying cousin while she thumbs through the pages of her book. Unfortunately for her, Eustace Scrubb brightens at the attention, straightening up and launching into a rather well-thought out spiel.

“First of all, it’s Edmund we’re talking about. He’s awkward, way too hostile and bad-tempered. Not to mention, he’s barely of average height, and his hair? Absolutely ridiculous.”

“Y/N likes it,” Lucy says mildly, earning a scoff from Eustace.

“Y/N.” he says with disbelieving scorn, “As if she actually exists. You expect me to believe that a woman as beautiful and intelligent as you lot claim she is would actually be interested in Edmund? And so interested that she calls and writes to him multiple times a week? Yeah, right. I bet that Ed’s hired an escort to help him forget about how lonely he actually is. Or he’s paying some poor girl to play the part of a caring partner.” Eustace has had many such theories, the more creative ones dealing with blackmail and holding family members hostage, but so far, monetary imbursements seem to be the most likely.

“Sure, Eustace,” Lucy mumbles, having checked out of the conversation a while ago. He shakes his head at her disinterest, convinced that he is right, and leaves the room, muttering to himself disbelievingly.

A few days later, a painting gushes out water and swallows them whole, so poor Eustace, although having taunted his cousins with his skepticisms about the magical land of Narnia and called them fools for believing in the same, is forced to confront that he was wrong. 

Eustace is soaking wet and miserable, still slightly panic infused. He can’t believe his eyes, convinced that he hallucinated the last fifteen minutes. Sitting on the ship, the Dawn Treader, he watches as his cousins are recognised as King and Queen. He’s related to royalty. 

With a humorous snort, he realises that this is more believable than Edmund Pevensie having a girlfriend.

Hell, even the talking rat next to him is more believable.

He goes to voice the same, but is distracted by a joyous whoop descending from the sky, followed by a splash in the ocean. Eustace is too busy trying to catch a glimpse of the figure underwater to notice the hopeful glances Edmund and Lucy exchange, the faint tremour in Edmund’s hands as he snatches a telescope from a passing crew member, getting a clearer view.

“It is her!” Ed cries, only barely held back from jumping overboard by Caspian, who laughs fondly at the Just King. Eustace tries to hear what the Prince tells Edmund, but all noise turns to mush the second he sees the young woman surface, a brilliant smile on her face.

At first glance, he thinks it’s a siren. He’s heard stories about their enchanting beauty and ethereal forms, and Eustace does genuinely believe that this woman is too gorgeous to be human like he is. As she swims closer, though, and the ship's crew help pull her onto the ship, Eustace notices the lack of a tail. And though her hair is soaked and strewn across her face, and her clothes suction themselves to her skin, none of it takes away from her radiance.

It also doesn’t distract him from the fact that she’s walking right towards him. 

Eustace’s mouth goes bone dry, and he gulps nervously, afraid she’ll talk to him and afraid she won’t, when suddenly, Edmund swoops past him and towards the woman. He snatches her up in a passionate embrace, hands securing her to him as he twirls her around in sheer delight.

When they kiss, chaste but heady, Eustace decides that he has never actually known anything about anything.

He’s scouring the sky for flying pigs when he hears Edmund’s self-satisfied voice behind him, “And this, my very real girlfriend, Y/N, would be my cousin, Eustace Scrubb.”

“How do you do?” Eustace says weakly, extending a hand, trying his hardest not to faint when you take it.

“Pretty well. If only Edmund would- what was it again?- stop holding my family hostage, I think I’d be great,” you rib amiably, throwing back one of Eustace’s earliest theories back into his now scarlet face.

“No, darling, you’ve got it wrong, I’ve currently got your dogs kidnapped and ready to be shipped to the pound, remember?” Edmund joins in on the fun, his smile widening as he earns a couple of chuckles from you, and a darker flush from Eustace’s cheeks. 

Eustace Scrubb, though unwilling, is forced to admit, after watching the two of you interact, gravitating towards each other naturally, at ease with the love that surrounds you, his cousin’s eyes brighter than he’s ever seen them, that it is very believable for Edmund Pevensie to be dating Y/N L/N after all.