#likes to perch in high spots and look down at people

[softpadawan]

Does CatboyEzra always land on his feet?

Nope. Sometimes he lands on his hands 😂

[charliemwrites]

Woof woof grrrrrr

Content: Dub-Con, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex (reader giving)

The bar is exactly as busy as you’re hoping for when you get there. Quiet and intimate, low lights, a hum of conversation but not overwhelmingly loud. The bar is mostly full but not crowded. As luck would have it, you instantly spot a couple empty stools towards the back.

You glide across the establishment, head held high and shoulders back. Pick a seat and smooth your skirt under you to perch. The bartender comes to you instantly; you pick something sweet and fruity (delighted that it’ll match your outfit.)

It takes up until they slide it across to you — a tab opened with your card — that the insecurity starts to set in. What if no one is interested? What if Soap doesn’t show up?

You sip at your drink and pull out your phone, reading your latest book. If nothing else… at least you’re getting out? God.

“This isn’t your usual scene.”

Oh. Oh this is worse than being ignored all night and going home alone. So much worse. Just barely manage not to curse aloud as you turn to your ex.

“Justin…” you start, realize you don’t know where to go from there. “Hi.”

“It’s been a minute, huh?”

You look him up and down. Designer everything, of course, brands printed all over him. No taste, though, none of it is cohesive. You wouldn’t be caught dead at his side ever again.

“How’s your arm?”

His expression flickers, hand unconsciously going to the spot where Johnny tried to tear it off.

“Fine. Thanks.” He gives you a long look. Unfriendly. “You know people have had dogs put down for less.”

You run your tongue over your teeth, fear and anger twisting up in your stomach like hot lava. How dare he threaten your boy like that?! Wish Johnny was here now to take another chunk out of him.

“Not when people trespass on private property,” you reply coldly, eyes narrowing.

He puts his hands up, laughing awkwardly. “Well, now. I wouldn’t call it — let’s just say we’re even, yeah?”

“For that at least.”

You take another big sip of your drink. Find it empty. Make hopeful eye contact with the bartender and nod for another when they gesture questioningly. There’s a reason you love this bar.

“Right… listen, about that, luv…”

“There you are, bonnie!”

You perk up despite yourself. Says something that the creep who sexually harasses you in public is better company than your ex-fiancé. Something zings through you when you realize Soap is bigger than your Justin (hopefully in every aspect). Taller, wider, more muscular. Better jawline and prettier eyes, too.

“Tucked up back here like this,” Soap mock scolds, shouldering past Justin. You let out a little squeak as he scoops you off your barstool, hand just under your ass for a hold. “Almost didn’t see you, hen.”

“H-Hi,” you say, arms going around his neck automatically. He presses his nose to your collarbone and audibly inhales. You shiver.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he continues, voice dropping lower.

He sets you down on your stool again with a wink, then takes the stool next to yours.

“Oi, do you mind?” Justin snaps, bumped out of the way by Soap’s bulk.

“I do, actually.” The look Soap levels him is sharp, cold. Bloody killer. Instantly reminds you of all the alarm bells that normally play in your head when he’s around. “Don’t like puffed up knobs like you around my girl.”

You bite your tongue on a protest that you’re not his girl. Wouldn’t be particularly helpful right about now. You’ll correct him later.

“Your girl,” Justin scoffs. “She was mine before she was ever — hey!”

Soap’s got his fist in the front of Justin’s shirt, jerking him nearly off his feet. A few heads turn. You feel hot with embarrassment, skin prickling at so many eyes on your little trio of stupidity.

“Woah!” You yelp. “Soap!”

You grab his forearm (remind yourself not to get distracted by the muscles cording it) and lean into his line of sight. The near-murderous glint in his blue eyes softens, though there’s still an unnatural sheen to them. Something that makes the hair on the back of your head stand on end.

“Soap, let him go,” you say, quiet. “I like this bar, don’t get us kicked out… please?”

He hums, instantly drops Justin to cup his hand around the back of your neck, fingers edging into your hair. His palm feels so big and harm, a little rough with callouses. You try not to think about how easy it would be for him to manipulate your head however he wants…

“Like when you say ‘please,’ hen,” Soap purrs.

You swallow, feel your cheeks flushing as you say, “Then… you should sit down and have a drink with me. Please?”

He grins, crooked and a little mean. “Anythin’ fer you.”

He drops into his stool again like a king on his throne. You perch gingerly on your own, waving Justin away like an annoying fly. Don’t even look as he slinks off, too busy staring at Soap. Who’s… busy staring at you. As always.

“You never called,” he drawls after ordering. Whiskey, neat. The bartender sets your new drink in front of you; you start sipping to gather your thoughts and nerve. “Lucky I happened to stop in here, eh? Imagine if I’d walked past…”

You grimace a bit. A fantastic bit of luck, that. Thought you’re still not sure what type of luck.

Definitely not going to admit to him that you didn’t call on purpose, wanting plausible deniability if you did see him. As if trying to get him under your skirt by happenstance is better than calling him to do it.

“Why did you stop in here?” You ask, looking to change the subject.

“Could smell you,” he answers, eyes twinkling.

You wrinkle your nose, kick at his shin. Want to blame it on the alcohol, but you drink red wine most nights of the week. This is just… placebo and desperation.

“You’re so nasty, you know that?” You huff.

He arches his eyebrows, grins wolfishly. “Could show you how nasty I can be,” he offers.

You wrinkle your nose even as your cheeks burn. That’s exactly what you’re hoping for.

“You can’t keep talking to me like that,” you complain.

He snorts in amusement, hooking his fingers beneath your stool and tugging you closer. Until your knees are between both of his, jeans brushing against your thighs.

“Here’s the thing, darlin’,” he murmurs, low and private. “I think you like when I talk to you like that.”

You swallow audibly, hands dropping down to twist nervously in your lap.

“I think it makes your pretty pussy all wet and swollen when I get all mean like this,” he continues. You shake your head; his palm clamps down on your thigh beneath your skirt, thumb sweeping back and forth over the sensitive skin. “Think she’s fuckin’ aching fer me to make good on all my promises. And you can get all shy and sweet here, but I bet all your cunt wants is to be mounted and bred like a bitch in heat.”

And he’s right. Of course he’s fucking right. That goddamn bad guy fantasy and your shallow, needy pussy, and Soap’s stupid fucking everything.

You feel like you’re about to explode when the bartender sets his whiskey down, snapping the tension like a rubber band. Feel dizzy as you lean away, sipping desperately at your own drink in an attempt to cool off. He gives you all over maybe fifteen second before opening that sinful mouth again.

“So how about it, bonnie? Did I hit the mark?”

You feel frustrated tears pricking at your eyes. Blink and look away at your nervous hands.

“I-I don’t even know you,” you mutter. “You could be dangerous.”

“I am dangerous, baby,” he replies, “just not to you.”

You shake your head. “You’re awful.”

“Mm and you want me to do awful things to you.”

You sigh through your nose, that little logical voice blaring again. He’s going to hurt you. He’s going to use you.

(Would that be so bad, if you go in knowing it?)

A tug at your necklace startles you out of your thoughts, his finger hooked beneath the pendant. You lean in with a noise of protest, afraid he’s going to break it. Gasp as your lips brush his.

“Whatever’s goin’ on in that pretty head, let me fuck it out of you.”

You shudder, hand balanced on his thick, muscular thigh. Can feel a twitch near your thumb. Holy shit.

“I’ll be so good to you, princess,” he promises. “Let me be good to you.”

You suck in a breath. Now or never.

Well, if nothing else, maybe you’ll let Johnny eat him if he’s turns out to be a bastard.

“Prove it,” you breathe.

He guides your chin up, eyes blazing with hunger.

“Yeah?” He asks.

You blink, muster up your courage. “You heard me. Or are you back out?”

His expression goes deliciously dark. “Oh, I’ll prove it, lass. You just sit right here and I’ll get us sorted.”

His fingers slip just that last little bit up and start teasing at the lace of your panties. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to sip at your cocktail while he flags down the bartender. His nails scrape lightly across the fabric over your clit as gets your card and throws down enough cash to cover all three drinks.

When he pulls his hand away, you have to bite back a whimper.

“If you don’t get up right now, I’m haulin’ you out of here over my shoulder,” he growls in your ear.

You’re up in an instant, smoothing down your skirt. His hand stays glued to your lower back as he ushers you out to the lot. Sits you down in the passenger seat of a black pickup, barely waits for you to buckle yourself in before peeling out of the lot.

You’re about to tell him your address when you hear the clink of a belt, a zipper. Eyes wide as they drop to his pants, to him fishing a huge, hard cock out of jeans.

“C’mere,” he near snarls.

“Soap, that’s not— mph!”

The head of his cock catches on your teeth, but that only seems to spur him on, hips twitching.

“Gonna ruin that pretty makeup, your pretty hair. Gettin’ all dolled up like that for any fucking wanker to see.”

He twists his fingers in your hair and presses you down, your cheek rubbing against the shaft. He feels huge and unnaturally hot. You press your thighs together as you imagine how it’s going to feel inside of you.

“This isn’t safe,” you complain, mouth open as you gasp against the flushed skin.

He curses, tugs you up so that your lips press against the head, already dripping. Your eyes widen in the darkness, shocked and flattered that you’ve already worked him up this much.

“Not gonnae let anything happen,” he promises, “but you need to convince me not to spank this pretty ass black and blue.”

You squeal as he releases you hair just to deliver a harsh smack to one ass cheek, the sting making you clench up.

“H-hey!”

“You want me to slap that pretty pussy too? Bet I could make you cum just tapping that little clit over and over again. That what you want, slag?”

“N-no!”

“Then show me.”

You seal your mouth around the head, sucking and licking at the precum beading at the tip. Try to brace yourself, nearly gag as he hits a pothole and shoves into your throat. It’s noisy and messy, eyes watering from how thick and deep he is already, not letting you up for more than brief gasps of air.

“Fuck, that’s it baby. Work your tongue just like that…” he groans.

You lose track of everything but trying not to gag, his threat lingering with each obscene slurp and twist of your tongue. He tastes better than you expected, and the scent of him surrounds you. Musk and pine, something familiar that niggles at your cock-drunk brain. Can’t be bothered to work it out though, not when he’s tugging your hair. Not when he comes to an abrupt stop and you deepthroat him.

He yanks you off with a near-animal growl. You whine, scrambling to brace yourself and panting. Your head feels foggy. Know your panties are soaked through; shocked you’re not dripping down your leg. If you were sitting properly, you’d probably leave a wet mark on the seat.

You moan as his mouth crashes into yours, tongue sweeping inside like he owns it. He licks the taste of himself off your tongue, hands fumbling your seatbelt off, dragging you over the center console to straddle his lap.

You gasp at the sight of his rock hard, angry cock next to your pretty dress, pressed up against your stomach. Show just how deep he’ll be inside your guts.

“Fuck, look’it that,” he groans rutting against your stomach. “Oh you were made to be mine.”

You scream as he scoops you up, stepping out of the truck with you over his shoulder.

“Soap!” You shout. “Soap, put me down, my dog—”

“I’m your fuckin’ dog,” he replies.

“No, seriously, he’s protective—”

He grabs the spare out of its hiding place and shoves the door open. You brace for angry barking and growls, but hear nothing. Soap doesn’t even pause. He just kicks the door shut and storms down the hall to your room, like he knows exactly where he’s going.

He drops you onto the bed, watches your breasts bounce as you settle on the mattress. He strips off int he blink of any eyes while you’re still catching your breath.

“W-wait, wait, my—”

He flips you onto your stomach, hikes your ass up high in the air. You squirm, try to crawl away, but he slaps your ass so hard you see stars. He places his palm flat between your shoulder blades to bin you still.

“S-Soap,” you whine as he shoves your skirt up over your ass, palms a cheek. Spreads you open just to let the flesh jiggle back into place.

“Fuck,” he growls. It sounds off. Sounds deeper, rougher now.

“Just-just slow down…!”

He yanks your panties aside, plunges two thick fingers into you. You squeal, legs kicking uselessly against the mattress.

“Oh, you’re plenty ready,” he says, dark, almost to himself. “All ready to be mated and bred. All mine.”

That finally starts to break the lust-drunk haze. Open your mouth to tell him absolutely not, it’s been way to long and your need to be stretched—

He forces his entire cock into you with one brutal thrust. You scream, cry, try to flatten yourself against the bed but he won’t even let you do that, muttering about “presenting” properly. It hurts but it feels good, know that’s it’s just too much.

“Soap,” you sob, “y-you can’t— you have to… I’m-I’m gonna break.”

“Shhhh, no you’re not,” he soothes, grinding a bit deeper. Your eyes roll back, keening through your teeth. “You were made for me. You’re all for me.”

You shake your head, but he just chuckles.

“Yes, baby, yes. You let me in, you kept me. Now we belong to each other.”

“Soap, w-what are you talking about…?” you manage, fists tight in the sheets. He draws back once and slams into you, hard, mean.

Leans down so he’s rumbling directly in your ear.“‘S Johnny, hen.”

You blink, confused and overwhelmed. “W-what… n-no. No, Johnny is my….”

“Woof.”

[ervotica]

could I please get a Cato x soft/quiet gf reader she’s really good at hiding and when he’s training or even talking with friends she sneaks a kiss when he’s not looking and disappears until one day he finally catches her and gives her a real kiss💓

pairing: cato hadley x fem!reader

summary: you hide from cato when he wants a kiss. he always finds you in the end...

hunger games masterlist

Cato has always thought you're charming in a sort of elusive way; you're not a particularly social creature, quick on your feet and opting to hide and duck out of people's line of sight before they've even spotted you. It's endearing, truly, but it tends to frustrate him when all he wants is a kiss from you.

Cato's practicing his knife throwing in an empty field lined with dummies. He brings his elbow up and over his head before letting the blades cut through the air and thwack as they lodge themselves in the targets every time. You watch, entranced - perched just out of his line of sight - as his muscles ripple and flex with his movements; you imagine how they feel under your touch, his warm skin under your hands.

He's just thrown the last one when your cold fingertips graze his waist; his t-shirt has ridden up to expose a pale sliver of skin: ridged abs and a line of blonde hair that disappears beneath his low hung shorts.

He reaches out but you're too quick, ducking under his armpit and snaking up his front for a chaste peck before you're off again.

"Hey!" he yells as you disappear up a nearby tree. "Come back!"

He crosses his arms and plants himself at the roots of the tree, glaring up as you keep climbing. You giggle, traversing the length of a particularly thick branch and wrapping your legs around the width of it in order to hang upside down. Your hair forms what can only be described as a halo as you swing from side to side and grin.

"Cato," you hum, sing-song voice taunting him. He creeps closer and tries his luck in catching you. You're faster, snapping back up to lay horizontally on the branch, too high for even your hulking boyfriend to reach.

"Come here!" he huffs, brow knit as he stares up at you. You only scrunch your nose and raise an eyebrow and his tone changes like the flick of a switch. "Baby, please. C'mere."

You only shake your head and wiggle your fingers at the blonde boy and he seizes the opportunity, locking his fingers with your own as they reach for him enticingly. Your eyes widen and you shriek as he tugs and you come toppling down rather unceremoniously.

Of course he wouldn't let you fall and you land in a heap in his arms, hair static and frazzled as he sets you down.

“Cato!” You scold. “That’s not funny!”

He presses his chest close, his face burying in the juncture of your neck as he kisses and nips at the soft skin there.

“Wasn’t supposed to be,” he murmurs, big hands squeezing the fat of your hips. “You kept hiding from me.”

You pout and push lightly at his chest, forcing him to take a step back.

“Awh,” he coos, pressing a thumb to the plush flesh of your lip before he’s leaning in for a kiss. No chaste pecks or soft, fleeting moments- he’s determined to get a real kiss from you, all tongues and teeth and heaving chests as he steals your breath.

The only sounds to be heard are the whistling of wind and the soft smack of your mouths as he kisses you with fervour. Your hand comes up to his neck, fisting the short hairs at the nape to pull him closer. You feel his smile against your mouth.

“This is all I wanted from you,” he snarks, sarcasm dripping from his tongue as you chase his lips to keep him quiet.

“Shh,” you whisper, eyes fluttering as he bites into your bottom lip and soothes the pain away with his tongue.

He pulls away heavy lidded and breathing hard.

“Caught you.”

[vampcubus]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐄

𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : kyojuro sure likes to stare, doesn't he? :ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : sfw, gn!reader, pre-established friendship, background obamitsu meddling. :ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 : 1.4k+

Kyojuro, bless his heart, is so hopelessly attracted to you in ways he’s never experienced. 

Everything about you draws him in, from your striking beauty to your quick wit, how despite your snark you always treated others with compassion. You were fast friends, not that Kyojuro was particularly difficult to get along with. You’d even argue that such a person as him was impossible to dislike, at least without feeling guilty about it. 

He was blunt, genuine, and brimming with so much enthusiasm it tended to unsettle some. But never you. You would look upon him with quiet acceptance, hanging onto his every word. You didn’t seem to mind his complete disregard for eye contact or his erratic conversational skills. 

You just get him, he muses. And he’s never felt a kinship like that with anyone.

Kyojuro has always felt like he was moving faster than everyone else, both in mind and body. The man couldn’t sit still or shut up to save his life, or so the other Hashira would say – endearingly of course. No matter the sentiments his comrades held for him, none of them seemed to keep up quite as well as you did. Which is why he presumed you worked so well together.

He could blabber on about anything and have you following along just fine. Though after a few roundabout conversations ranging from swordplay to street food, he musters the confidence to ask if he talked too much for your taste. 

You only quirk a brow and snort, “Pffft, of course not! I like listening to you talk.” and you see something shift in his gaze, the softest shade of pink tinting his round cheeks.

It’s around there when the staring starts.

It’s a subtle change at first, catching his wide-eyed gaze from across the training field. Feeling his eyes upon you as you shared meals together. Stumbling over your words when you realize for the first time that he’s actually looking you in the eye as you talk.

It’s a new and exhilarating feeling to be able to admire those honey-colored eyes fully fixated on you for a change. Too often you found yourself staring back. And the way he brightens when your eyes meet sends your fickle heart into pesky palpitations every time. You swore his pupils bled further into his golden-red irises every time he spotted you. 

The idea of his eyes dilating at the mere sight of you endears you even more fiercely to him. As if such a thing was possible. You’re already attached at the hip, not to mention the dozens of joint missions you’ve taken. 

His exuberance could be trying when your objective was to blend in, but his swordsmanship more than made up for it. He was incredibly good at taking the edge off when tensions were high, he was an emotional pillar of support, and you were honored to have his focus.

The beloved Flame Hashira was enthusiastic about many things, but you most of all it seemed. You’ve been told by several other Hashira that you were one of his favorite topics of conversation. The image of him gushing about you to other people is as embarrassing as it is flattering.

“Y/n is so easygoing, I cherish their company!”

“Did you know Y/n makes the best rice cakes?”

“Y/n is such a fierce swordsman, I am honored to fight at their side!”

“Y/n this, Y/n that. You’re all he talks about you know,” Iguro points a finger in your face one morning.

“So I’ve heard,” you hum, hand perched lazily on the hilt of your sword, though you’re unsure of precisely why he’s telling you this. Your eyes stray to Kaburamaru, who only flicks his tongue at you, leisurely slithering down Iguro’s shoulder from his coiled position around his neck.

You’ve always known the Serpent Hashira to be abrasive and confrontational, but the sudden interest in your relationship with Rengoku was uncharacteristic. Especially since he usually disregarded your presence unless he had something to criticize. You didn’t dislike him, but you wouldn’t say that you were close.

Did he know something you didn’t? 

You try not to make assumptions based on the worries of others, but Kyojuro’s childhood friend approaching you out of the blue to tell you something like that? It makes you wonder just what sort of things Kyojuro has been saying about you to warrant such an interrogation.

Was Iguro trying to discern your intentions as a way of looking out for him? Perhaps your feelings for Kyojuro weren’t as internalized as you’d thought. 

“Is this your way of saying you’ll snap me like a twig if I break his heart?” you ask, lips curling up into a sly grin, head cocked to one side.

Heterochromatic eyes blink in surprise, and then narrow.

“You catch on quick.” 

“You can relax, Iguro. I won’t hurt him.”

“Few can be entirely sure of that. For your sake, I hope that’s the truth,” he waves you off, turning away in disinterest upon hearing your response.

The encounter leaves you with mixed feelings. Would Iguro have asked if he didn’t already know how Rengoku felt in return? It's an unsettling and gnawing feeling. Not the idea that your feelings could be returned, just the uncertainty of it all. If Iguro noticed it, why didn’t you?

“Iguro approached me earlier,” you say as you sit across from the flame-haired swordsman, currently having lunch at one of your favorite spots to eat.

“Did he now?” Kyojuro acknowledges, eyes still closed as he stuffs another bite of octopus into his mouth. His round cheeks puff out cutely, the image of a chipmunk with its cheeks full of nuts forming in your mind.

“He told me you talk about me a lot.”

“All good things of course!” he assures, seemingly unbothered by the news.

“That’s the thing,” you chuckle nervously, poking at your food with your chopsticks. Kyojuro’s eyes fluttered open, now focused on your fidgeting hands. “He seemed concerned that you had feelings for me beyond friendship.”

It’s silent for a moment, and you stuff food into your mouth to escape it, eyes focused on your plate. You can feel his gaze, but you’re too intimidated to meet it.

“Would that be a bad thing?” for once, Kyojuro sounds nervous. 

It's a subtle strain in his tone that others who didn’t know him as well might have missed. But years of close proximity have made you perceptive to the almost invisible chinks in his armor. Kyojuro was heavily guarded for being such a friendly man, always eager to lend a hand or ear when others were in distress, but quick to clam up when it came to his own problems.

Your heartbeat skips, excited and terrified. Was that a confession? Were you reading too far into things? Was the question rhetorical? All these questions well up inside until you feel like you’ll burst. 

You can’t help but let out an exasperated sigh.

“You’re so hard to read,” you lamented, nearly jumping out of your skin when his fingers brush yours from across the table.

“Perhaps If you looked at me, you’d have an easier time,” he laughs, and your heart already feels lighter at the joyous sound. 

The anxiety in your tummy melts into giddiness, and you demurely tilt your head up to meet his eyes. They’re crinkled fondly, pupils large, and fully fixated on yours. His golden-red eyes consume yours, inspiring your fingers to twitch against his. You can only compare such an expression to a smitten puppy. 

You suddenly feel silly for entertaining any doubts that the Flame Hashira was any less enamored than you were.

“To be completely honest, I have been interested in you romantically for quite some time now, and at a loss of how to contain such strong feelings,” he confessed, and suddenly a lot of things started making sense.

He stared at you so much because he liked you. He talked about you so much because he liked you. He let you tag along to missions he could have easily handled on his own because he liked you. Iguro approached you because he noticed.

“Then no, I don’t think that would be a bad thing at all.” You turn your hand with your palm facing upward to accept his own into your grasp.

Kyojuro’s smile widens, and he nearly shakes the entire restaurant with the volume of his declaration of, “WONDERFUL!”

“See, Obanai? I told you they just needed a little push!” Mitsuri gushes from across the restaurant, just her green eyes and the top of her head peeking over the menu.

[peachesofteal]

ghoap x reader / 18+ mdni / dark themes / prev here

‘C’mon, you never want to go out.” 

You rub your temples, eyes closed in exasperation. “I’m broke, Case.” 

“I’ll spot you. Come on, it’s Friday. I’ll get us into The Rook.” She pleads and pushes, tugging away your excuses and defenses until you’re backed into a corner with nowhere to run. Finally, you opt for a different tactic, lamely. 

“Doesn’t that place have a waiting list?”   

“Oh yeah, miles long. But the owner likes me.” The owner. How does she even know the owner of The Rook? 

“I don’t know…” you linger, still bent over your tiny kitchen table, back bowed and tired, “isn’t it like, dangerous?” 

“The Rook is neutral ground or something, I don’t know. It’s perfectly fine, I’ve been dozens of times.” A litany of stories exists about the speakeasy, from its origins to the current clientele, each as unbelievable as the next, and you’ve always imagined it to be this dark den of sin and debauchery, filled to brim with hitmen and lawlessness. “You have to do something other than work and sleep; you know. You’re missing out on your whole life.” She chides, attempting to launch into the same speech she repeats over and over every few weeks. 

“Alright, alright,” you look down at your torn up cuticles and sigh, “I’ll go.” 

You weren’t wrong about The Rook being dark. 

It’s hollowed out under a club, nooks and crannies and little hallways splitting off in every direction, dim lamps and flickering candlelight casting shadows to the ceiling, bartenders dressed in all black working behind a massive, burnished wood bar along the back wall. Velvet couches, high top tables, overstuff armchairs flow in the space, and Case tells you there are more rooms if you’re keen to explore, explaining in hushed tones how there’s usually a band in one, a card game of sorts in another, a pool table somewhere, all with various styles of seating, and even another bar. It's elegant, decadent, sinful. Most of the people are startlingly beautiful, high heels and skintight dresses, perfectly made-up faces, polished onyx cuff links gleaming against expensive navy suits. 

Even the drinks are licentious. 

You decidedly do not belong here. Perched on a stool next to Case, you occasionally rub your wrists, casually wondering if it would have been acceptable to wear your braces, your carpal tunnel flaring into a swell of agony. 

Wouldn’t that be a sight. 

The bartender slides her two generous neat pours of… something, and you raise an eyebrow. 

“On the house, from the boss.” He says with a wink, and she tips her head to ceiling with a bubble of a laughter, before pressing one of the tumblers into your hand. 

“What is it?” 

“Probably bourbon.” 

“Oh, no thanks, I don’t-“ 

“Just shoot it.” She throws it back with ease, showing her teeth afterwards, a hyena leering in the lamplight. 

Fuck it. Maybe it will the throbbing in your wrists will quiet down. 

It’s thick, syrupy, hot in your throat. Burns all the way down and settles like lava in your stomach, uncomfortable until the sting ebbs into warmth, moving through your bones. 

“Not bad.” You rasp, and she smiles. 

There are more free drinks. They stick to your insides like tar, slicking you in a heavy cotton, weighing your limbs down, loosening the tension in your neck and shoulders, peeling away your layers of discomfort one by one. 

You’re surprised by how at home Case seems in this place, how comfortable she is, smiling and waving to the occasional person, making small talk here and there. She practically floats in her seat, black dress taut against every dimple and dip on her body, hair artfully twisted into something that could be considered modern art. She’s a gazelle. A heron. Something graceful and gorgeous, fine feathered and fabulous.

And you’re… a tired girl in a tired dress, counting her lucky stars that there seem to be so many generous patrons buying drinks tonight. 

“Having fun?” She whispers, nudging you with her shoulder. 

“How often do you come here?” Her eyes wander, flicking past you and then back, wistful caution etched across her brow. 

“Often enough,” She sips her drink and then folds her hands together on the bar top, looking over shoulder, “Most of these people in here… are connected to organized crime somehow.” The information doesn’t surprise you, but hearing it confirmed, knowing it’s not just some story made up, some fairytale about boogeymen, makes you shiver. 

 “Like, the mafia?” 

“The mafia is Italian, but they have a presence in the city.” She shrugs, like it’s all common knowledge. Like you’re out of the loop. “The Rook belongs to Kyle Garrick.” You shake your head, unfamiliar. “Of The 141?” your mouth goes dry. 

The 141. 

The 141 were a notorious organized crime group who ran half, if not more, of the city. You knew they owned clubs, bars, restaurants, and hotels, but you were never clear on the details of their illegitimate work, and you didn’t want to know. 

You knew, for sure: they were men to be feared. Men capable of terrible things. Destruction. Death. 

Their ongoing war with The Shadows was the reason the city was soaked in blood. 

“Don’t worry,” she rushes out, hand on your arm, “like I said, It’s neutral here. Nothing happens in The Rook.” You nod meekly, head swimming. You’re more than drunk now, stuck in a sloshing ship, floor tilting beneath your feet. The urge to get away, to disappear slams into you like a truck, and you slip off the stool. 

“Which way is the bathroom?” She points to one of those dark hallways, and you stumble through the throngs of people like a fresh born fawn, unsteady and teetering on the edge, approaching a hallway that splits into two. 

Which way? 

You pick one, sure you’ll run into someone who can point you in the right direction, but when it zigs and zags up to a polished wooden door, you stop short, confused. The alcohol has rendered you fuzzy, and your vision spins, trying to look for a recognizable placard. 

Is this the bathroom? 

It must be. 

The first thing you realize when you push the door open, is a chorus of men’s voices, stopping on a dime. You hear them, before you see them, and immediately try to backpedal, tugging the door handle towards you, trying to close it. You’re wayward, with heavy, tired feet, and the movement is slow, slow enough that an opposing force pulls on the other side and then- 

rips. 

You fly forward into the room, dragged by your grip on the handle, spilling onto your knees with a shocked gasp, and someone curses in the background, another voice barking out a name. 

Then, the room goes Sunday church service silent. 

You gape at the table of men, transfixed in horror on the two familiar faces staring back at you, the unforgettable Scot and his marble etched partner, who was just in the shop only two days ago. They’re frozen, half risen from their seats, a cigarette burning away in an ash tray filling the air with smoke. 

There’s a nickel-plated flash, and your blood curdles. 

He has a gun. 

“I…” you croak, still on your knees, unable to categorize or rationalize why you’re seeing them here, why one of them has a gun, why any of this is happening. “I’m sorry, I was lo-looking for the bathroom.” There are many men in this room, you realize. More than just the two you’re acquainted with, and your stomach rolls, nausea creeping forward, trying to bring the too many drinks you’ve consumed up through your mouth. “I’m sorry.” You say again, more clearly. 

Obviously, you’re interrupting something. 

“These aren’t the toilets, little girl.” A Russian voice booms over your head. “Unless you’re going to piss on the floor for us?” 

“Nikolai.” The blonde cuts, Manchester accent rougher than sandpaper, and you shake your head frantically. 

“N-no, I just got turned around, that’s all.” Your brain screams at you to get up, but your body is immobile, and you look away in fear. 

A warm hand takes yours, tanned skin soft and sweet, gentle touch urging your face back up. 

“It’s alright, doe. Ye’re alright.” It’s the Scot, crooning in your ear, wrapping an arm around your waist to bring you to your feet. “Let’s get ye to the bathroom then, aye?” You lean against him, breathing in cypress and ocean spray, letting him guide you out of the room, his partner right at your back. 

“We’re not finished.” Someone calls out, and the bigger man clips out a response. 

“We are now.” 

[bimbobaggins69]

Heavy metal parking lot

eddie munson x metal head fem!reader

summary: the last thing you ever expected was to hit it off with a cute guy at a Judas Priest concert, but stranger things have happened.

warnings: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, all porn almost no plot, no use of y/n, use of pet names (baby, princess, pretty girl etc.), smoking the devils lettuce, queer!eddie, reader has nipple piercings, dom/sub dynamics, some degradation (but eddie is still a simp), oral (m receiving), unprotected rough p in v sex (this is fantasy, pls don’t have unprotected sex with strangers), anal play (f receiving).

notes: just a dirty little one shot. Sorry, there will not be a part two. Thank you to my loves: @corrodedcorpses @take-everything-you-can & @stwritings for beta reading <3 also, blame @bettyfrommars & @xxhellfiregirlxx for me posting this filth on our holy day.

wc: 3.1k

This was a stupid idea, stupid, stupid.

But here you are driving to the market square arena, an hour away from home, dead in the middle of a scorching summer, alone.

You had this elaborate plan for months, ever since you had bought your tickets. You and your best friend Abbee were supposed to meet up at your house, get ready together, go grab some fuel and head to the show a little early to hang out in the parking lot. That unfortunately is not what ended up happening. You got ready…alone, got food…alone and now you’re making the trip…alone.

You can’t be mad at your friend, she did have a very valid excuse as to why she was unable to make it. You couldn’t help but to kick yourself for never being brave enough to put yourself out there and make new friends, but maybe that would change, maybe you would meet some cool people at the show, some Judas Priest fans seemed like the perfect place to start.

The parking lot was jam packed, men and women in all their Judas Priest or Dokken gear, huge banners held out by adoring fans, beer cans littering the lot as weed and cigarette smoke fog the air.

You finally find parking, lucky for you it seems to be the last vacant spot left, squeezed tight between a red Camaro and a brown van.

Better than nothing.

As you exit your black Honda accord, your eyes flit around the lot, taking in your surroundings as you breathe in the second hand smoke.

“Hey, sick shirt.” A gruff voice towards your left calls out. You look around for a second before your eyes finally land on the owner of the van that's parked beside you.

His brown wavy hair gets hit by a gust of wind, as if he’s some hot character in one of those movies that the protagonist is in love with. You definitely couldn’t deny his hotness.

His defenders of the faith shirt clung to his body like a second skin, tight dark blue jeans with a chain adorned his lower half along with white reeboks.

He had a joint perched between his two fingers as his eyes so boldly roamed your figure.

“Thanks,” you acknowledge, as you look down at your ‘hell bent for leather’ cropped tee, and then back up to meet his mischievous smirk. “Yours is sick, too.” You offer in a small but cheerful voice.

“You wanna come smoke with me, pretty girl?” He offers as the mischievous smile grows, like the grinch who stole Christmas.

“Uhh, sure why not?” You shrug, making your way over to the van and taking a seat on the red carpeted floor, your leather mini skirt now hiked up around the very tops of your thighs while your knee high boots hang out the side, resting on the asphalt below you.

“I’m Eddie.” He declares while holding out a heavily ringed hand, you stare it down ogling between his tattoos, black nail polish and badass rings before placing your smaller appendage in his, you firmly shake it with a smile as you tell him your name.

“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” He chuckles before handing you the dwindling joint.

You take a hit while you let your eyes wander around the inside of his van, a small mattress set up with a colorful quilt and two fluffy pillows.

Various magazines of the adult variety scrawled out haphazardly on the floor, a six pack of coors lite sits on the arm rest between the two front seats, breaking the law plays out through the speakers.

Though he’s not the only one, various Judas Priest songs could be heard throughout the stadium's parking lot.

You take another small hit, passing back the now roach sized spliff. Eddie tries to get one more hit out of it, before throwing it to the ground and stepping on it with the toe of his white sneaker.

You begin to stand up with the thought that you may be overstaying your welcome, until Eddie puts a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“You don’t have to go.” The shy look on his face is the total antithesis of his cocky demeanor when he’d first waved you over.

“Oh, okay. I just didn’t want to bother or keep you from anything.” Your response is sheepish and the butterflies in your belly begin fluttering about.

“No baby, you're not keeping me from anything.” He beams.

That damn nickname pulls you in like a moth to a flame.

As you and Eddie grow better acquainted, you realize he has a great sense of humor with an eccentric personality.

You also quickly realize you want him.

Right here in the back of his van.

You scoot your bottom back, making your way into the wagon. The action causes your skirt to roll up further along your thighs, giving Eddie the perfect glimpse of your black panties.

You swing your feet inside and hoist yourself up on your knees, as graceful as possible. Waddling over like a penguin to fling yourself onto the mattress that had your mind wandering.

“Mmm, this is comfy.” You sigh with a smile, as your body burrows deeper into the off white sheets below you.

Eddie stands just outside the door, eyes unable to leave your backside as you cuddle up on his mattress. ‘Was this his lucky day?’ This shit never happens to him, well at least not with women anyway. He had better luck with men.

Thank you Judas Priest, Eddie silently prays to the sky before making his way inside the vehicle to join you.

“Mind if I lay down?” He mumbles, surprising you with his close proximity.

You turn, catching onto the puppy dog eyes he’s giving you; and what you would give to have them looking down at you while he’s working your body to sweet, sweet release.

“No, of course not.” You giggle, the sound makes Eddie twitch in his pants.

He was a sweet boy, you wanted him to fucking ruin you.

You turn to face him, head resting on your palm as you pat the spot beside you.

The sly smirk returns as he lays down on the mattress, mirroring your exact position.

“Shows gonna start in an hour.” He whispers, scooting in closer towards you, the warmth radiating off of his skin is sending your body into a frenzy.

“Mm, so we have enough time?” You sweetly whisper back.

“Enough time for what? Hmm?” Your bodies continue to gravitate together, a pull so strong it was like you were both attached to magnets.

“For this..” you breathily huff before straddling Eddie’s waist, the groan that escapes him makes your eyes roll back, as you begin to grind down on his growing erection.

“Fuck” Eddie hisses as his hands fall to your waist, now controlling your movements and pulling you in deeper.

“That’s exactly what I intend on doing.” The air gets caught in your throat as a small laugh leaves your lips, your clit catching on rough denim fabric, Eddie swears every time you giggle it’s like an angel gets its wings. It’s sweet and soft, just like you.

You lean in closer, soft plump lips meeting yours in a tangle of tongues, it’s hot and desperate as you are for each other.

Eddie moans into your mouth as your movements get more daring, practically bouncing on his clothed lap. His eyes quickly flicker to your tits as they jiggle with each bounce, it’s clear you’re not wearing a bra, and the idea makes Eddie’s mouth water and his cock stiffen. It feels the hardest it's been since he took a dick in his ass for the very first time. He needs to be inside you and he hopes you're willing to give him that, he’ll do anything for it, at this moment. He feels like a desperate idiot; but he is, he really is so fucking desperate for you.

You immediately notice the way Eddie’s eyes have been trained on the perky slopes of your breasts, with an ever growing smirk you take the hem and hike the shirt up and over your head to be discarded on the red carpet of his van.

“Holy shit!” Eddie practically pants, like a dog who’s out of water.

His decorated hands move up from your hips as they begin to tweak at your nipples, nimble fingers rubbing over the double balled jewelry that sits on each hardened peak.

“Fuck, such pretty tits!” He groans “and they’re pierced, Jesus.” Eddie was enthralled, absolutely fucking enthralled by you.

You lean down, planting soft kisses to Eddie’s long, beautiful neck, leaving behind remenits of your red lipstick and spit soaked bruises.

“Mmm…” he hums as you suck and bite at a spot under his ear lobe.

“Please, fuck me.” You breathily murmur into his ear, before you lift yourself back up using his pecs as leverage, eyes meeting his as you gauge his reaction to your plea.

“You sure, baby?” He whispers before leaving a sloppy kiss to your jaw.

“I’m so sure, please Eddie.” The way you moan his name as you beg for him creates something feral inside of Eddie, his eyes now glazed over into something dark, his jaw tightens as he grabs two rough handfuls of your ass, that are now exposed while your skirt sits carelessly on your lower back.

His right hand slowly glides up your body and into your hair, quickly tightening his fingers around the strands at the base of your neck.

“You want my cock, princess?” He challenges through his teeth.

“Yes, mmhmm, so bad!” You insist with a shout, having your hair pulled has always made you drip between your legs.

“Then go on.. take my cock out, you cock hungry little slut.” He growls as his fingers wrap tighter around your hair before quickly pulling his hand away, he gives your ass one hard spank before he’s back to grabbing at the meat.

You make quick work of his handcuff belt, unbuttoning and swiftly pulling down the zipper before dipping your thumbs into the waistband of both his boxers and jeans and peeling them off, leaving both garments to sit around the tops of his knees.

The sight you’re met with causes you to gasp, he has to be at least 9 inches, it was red and throbbing, wetness from his precum already saturating the mushroom tip.

“Like what you see, baby?” He brags with a smirk that could make Satan himself shiver.

“You’re so pretty, every part of you.” You admit as you lick your bottom lip, with hunger in your eyes.

Eddie wraps a ringed hand around the base of his cock, vulgarly slapping the air with it,

“Where do you want it, huh sweetheart?” His grunt made more slick pool from your needy cunt.

Showing is better than telling, so you plant your knees between his thighs, bringing your face mere inches from his pulsing hard sex.

“Holy fuck, are you gonna—” his eyes roll back as your tongue glides up the underside of his cock, before wrapping your lips around his tip. “No girl has ever given me head.” He huffs while throwing his head back.

You let go of his cock with a wet pop, “no one’s ever sucked your dick before?” You scrunch your face up in confusion, there’s no way he’s never been treated to some head, that would be a travesty.

“I have, j-just not by a-a women.” He stutters out in embarrassment, as his face flushes a bright red that travels down his neck.

It takes you a second to understand what he means, “oh” was all you said, before shrugging and getting back to work on his tip.

He smiles down at you, pulling all of your hair out of your face and holding it together in a makeshift ponytail as he gently guides your head up and down on him, until you’re taking him deeper, so deep your nose is now brushing against the curly hairs at his base, you swallow his tip down before you begin rapidly moving and twisting your head as if a women possessed.

“Oh my— whoa, fuck baby!” He keens into the stuffy air of the van, “your mouth feels so fucking good!” He begins rapidly pumping his hips up, fucking your throat as spit strings fall to his balls, you reach a hand out and begin massaging them, making him growl in pleasure.

“Okay baby, okay angel please, please stop.” Eddie whimpers as he pulls you off of his cock, the spit on your lips remains connected to Eddie’s tip.

He rubs over the messy swollen flesh with the pad of his thumb, as he hums in satisfaction.

“All fours, now.” He commands before shifting up and onto his knees, you crawl further up the mattress, finally laying your head against the sheets that were now dampened by his back, you arch your ass up while making sure your stomach was equally lowered, the position causing your ass to stick out more for him.

“Good girl.” He praised before giving your ass another harsh slap. “Let’s get these off of you.” Eddie slides your black thong over your butt and down your legs, slowly pulling them off from around your feet.

He throws your panties towards the front of the driver's seat, the black fabric lands perfectly on his dashboard. “M’keepin’ those.” He chuckles.

You’re so lost in desire, that someone could’ve told you Rob Halford himself was out signing autographs and you wouldn’t have bat an eyelash or made any attempts to move.

“Fuck, look at these pretty holes.” Eddie groans while running the tips of his fingers from your clit up towards your asshole. “You like getting all of your holes filled, princess?” He smirks at the way your body reacts to him and how loud you moan at his words.

Your ‘yes’ is muffled by the mattress, Eddie’s having none of it.

SLAP!

“Speak up!” He grumbles, before taking both cheeks roughly in his hands and spreading them.

“Yes! I love it!” Your wail has Eddie’s smirk growing more devilish

“I know you do.” He mocks as his middle finger teases your entrance, he causes your body to writhe and groan in desperation by slipping just the tip of his finger in and out of your aching hole.

Finally after all of his teasing, he slips his full finger inside, pumping in and out at a splitting speed.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He gasps while resting his head on your backside as he still works you with his finger, finally slipping another one in and scissoring them in an attempt to stretch you out.

He hasn’t even fucked you, yet you’re still an incoherent mess as slobber begins to pool on the sheets below your face.

His head starts to slowly move closer to where you’re spread, you gasp and wiggle when you feel his wet tongue slowly lick over your puckered hole.

“Oh fuck!” You blubber, the action making you clench around Eddie’s fingers.

“Mm, oh you like getting your asshole licked?” He scoffs in a teasing tone “it feels good, doesn’t it?”

All you can do is nod and sob into his cheap cologne smelling sheets.

Slowly slipping his fingers out as he moves in closer, replacing his digits with his throbbing cock.

“You ready, princess?” He surveys as he runs his calloused hands up and down your back, gently rubbing at your soft skin.

“Mmhm, I’m ready.” You consent while lifting your head to get a good look at him as he slides into you.

His tip begins breaching your entrance as your eyes remain locked on each other, you and Eddie’s brows are both furrowed and jaws slack as he pushes in deeper.

“Oh, fuck!” Eddie growls as he continues to stretch you out. If he were to die in this very moment, he would die a happy man, the way your pussy is squeezing and choking him; he’s fucked tight assholes, but never a pussy this tight and he thinks it might be his new favorite thing, the way you get so effortlessly wet and the ridges on your walls that stimulate his cock so sensationally. The weed makes his mind go to some weird places; maybe I found some kind of holy grail pussy? He shakes his head of the weird thoughts beginning to plague his mind.

“Yes, right there!” Your screeching brings him back down to this dimension, making him drive deeper and pound harder into you, hitting that spongy spot over and over until you’re shaking underneath him, knees almost buckling at the intense pleasure that is now conquering your body. His fingers are pressed so deep into the skin of your upper thighs, that you’re positive they’ll be bruised by tomorrow.

“Right there?” Eddie mockingly smirks as he hits it over and over with his tip, “that your spot, baby?”

Your “mmhmm” comes out so whiny and desperate, he knew you were close and so was he but he needed to see you fall apart first.

Eddie quickly brings his thumb up to his lips, the calloused finger dipping into his mouth as he sucks, getting it all nice and wet before you feel it prodding your unused hole, he begins thrusting faster as his digit reaches the second knuckle. “Oh my god, you have the tightest fucking holes.” He sounds so out of breath and fucked out by this point, his loud groans, filthy words and extra finger are making you reach that peak of toe curling completion at a hurdling speed.

“I’m gonna cum.” You whine as you begin to back up into his thrusts, making his cock and finger hit deeper depths.

“Yes, cum for me baby.” He urges as he’s on the precipice of his own high.

“Yes, yes…” you babble as your body tenses, uncontrollably shaking as you come undone, Eddie’s thumb continues to work your asshole, while he fucks you through the most intense orgasm you’ll probably ever have.

“I-I’m coming baby, fuck!” Eddie shouts before he pulls himself out of your tight heat, hand maniacally working his cock until his warm seed spurts into your stretched out asshole.

“Holy shit!” He groans while his body falls over yours, you both begin to laugh until you hear someone pound their fist on the side of the van.

“Hey, Eddie—” you gasp at the disturbance, eyes going wide when you catch a glance at the metalhead, “the show's about to start man, everyone’s lining up at the door!” The raspy masculine voice calls out again, before you’re left in silence.

You and Eddie begin frantically getting dressed in hopes to get a good spot in line.

Once out into the fresh summer air, Eddie throws his arm around your shoulders, “you wanna watch the show with us, princess?” He proposes with a sweet grin, while lighting a cigarette.

You were right, a Judas Priest concert was the perfect place to make new friends.

taglist:

@michellecrusher @ali-r3n @crybabyddl @definitelynotecho @ajkamins @daniellabrandt @bl4ckt00thgr1n

[grandline-fics]

Hi! Can I request OP men (monster trio, Ace, Law, or anyone ur comfy with doing!) reaction to reader becoming self conscious and suddenly anxious when there are too many ppl around and they try to ground them? It could be a crowd or even members from the ship! Thank you ^^

DESCRIPTION: You’re anxious when there’s too many people around

WARNINGS:  none

CHARACTERS: Luffy, Zoro

WORDS: 1,318

A/N:  Thank you for this request. I wanted to do more scenarios with some of the other OP men but could only manage two this time. I loved this idea so there'll be a part two in the future. I hope you like what I came up with for this

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

———————

LUFFY

Wherever Luffy goes, a crowd is sure to follow. Whether its civilians drawn to his free and infectious nature or rivals getting into his face as a challenge that he doesn’t back down from the end result is always the same; very little breathing room because of the mass of people. For the most part you were used to this constant buzz of noise and cluster of presences but tonight it was getting to be too much for you. After a long battle of fighting groups of enemies to be immediately dragged into an all out celebration, you were reaching your limit of what you could take. 

You didn’t want to be rude to the people who were grateful for you playing your part in securing their freedom and leave the conversations or festivities too early but when eyes weren’t on you, you were definitely searching for something that could allow you to disappear without drawing too much attention or cause any offence. You breathed a sigh of relief when the current civilian you were talking to left you to grab something to eat. Idly sipping at your own drink you inched further away from the main hub of people, trying to feel some sense of security in a quieter section.

Suddenly from above you heard the loud and all too familiar laughter of your Captain that was already causing an infectious smile to pull at your lips before you had even looked up. Perched high on the town’s clocktower was Luffy, using the stone lion fixture adorning the rooftop as his own personal seat to look over the entire town’s celebration. Because your weren’t amongst the crowd you were easier to spot and when he saw you smiling up at him he grinned wide. 

Immediately he launched his arm out towards you and without waiting for your response he took your arm and pulled you through the air to land safely on the roof with him. Now out from the almost suffocating crowd you finally got a moment to breathe and look down at the view of the town now far enough away for you to appreciate the atmosphere and beauty of their joy. You smiled and settled down to sit next to your Captain, finally able to relax. “So why’re you all the up here in the first place? Would’ve thought you’d have more fun down there with the people.”

“Started to get annoyed when they kept calling me a hero, all I wanted was to eat.” Luffy explained with a grin, moving his enormous hoard of food back onto his lap to continue eating. “Besides when I saw the lion up here it made me think of the Sunny.” You smiled at the simplistic answer and looked at the fixture in question. As nice as it was, it paled in comparison to Sunny. You couldn’t help but let out a small sigh which didn’t go unnoticed by Luffy. He recalled how you hadn’t be with anyone before he brought you up here. “You not having fun?”

“Not exactly.” You shrugged, unable to lie to someone so open and honest with their feelings as Luffy was. You could always trust him to listen and not dismiss your feelings. “It’s just been a lot since we landed here. The people are friendly but it was beginning to feel like I couldn’t breathe around them. It was just getting to be a bit much.”

“How do you feel now?” Luffy asked curiously, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable either. 

“A lot better, definitely like I can breathe again.” You reassured with a bright grin that Luffy returned while also reminding himself to always check on you while in a crowd like this from now on. 

ZORO

Why did you have to land on an island that was virtually a Marine base in its own right? As much as you and some of the others wanted to leave and journey to the next island, Luffy’s orders were final and he wanted to stay. Just because there were a ton of Marines stationed on this island and lived here with their families, why should he change what he wanted to do. As much as you wanted to protest your Captain you knew no amount of logic or begging would change his determination to explore freely. 

The most everyone could compromise on was the promise to keep as low a profile as possible and only engage the Marines if-and only if-your cover was blown. To ensure that disaster of a situation didn’t happen, the more level-headed members of the crew paired up with the more instinctual and chaotic members. Today you were left to walk the town with Zoro, the added element of ensuring he didn’t wander off into areas that would certainly spell trouble meant your worries were doubling. Every step you made through the streets, you swept a nervous glance around trying to keep track of anyone in a Marine uniform while also trying to pinpoint escape routes if the worst did happen.

“You need to relax.” Zoro muttered from beside you and you flinched, your already tense body coiling even tighter. You looked up at him with widened eyes. “You’re going to draw their attention and blow our cover.” At that you bristled but then panic set in and you couldn’t help but look around you again. With a sharp sigh, Zoro turned his body so he was blocking you from view and more importantly you could only look at him. “If you’re getting nervous about keeping a low profile but keep looking around the way that you are, people are going to end up taking notice and cause suspicion.” You opened your mouth to argue but you couldn’t, not when he was making sense. Still you couldn’t just relax the way he was telling you to. Zoro watched you carefully and frowned. “What’s got you so wound up anyway? What’s your biggest worry here?”

“Look around you!” You whispered. “Everyone is either a Marine or related to one. If we get caught-”

“We’ll deal with it as a crew like we always do.” Sometimes Zoro’s clear cut view of a situation was a reassurance but other times it was annoying. Dealing with a situation that could have been avoided in the first place was not what you wanted and wouldn’t necessarily work out as perfect as it would in his head. 

“I just don’t want to be the reason one of us gets hurt when fighting didn’t need to be an option.” You shrugged helplessly. You didn’t want to seem weak, especially not to someone like Zoro but you couldn’t change how you felt in that moment. “I can’t be so laidback like you, sorry.”

Zoro rolled his good eye but threw you a small smirk to show he wasn’t annoyed. Silently he took your arm and swapped your original walking position. While he managed to keep one arm lazily around your shoulder, he also managed to be just ahead of you enough that his three swords were in front of you, almost like a shield. “As long as you’re part of the crew we work together and do our part to protect each other, yeah? So until someone spots us just relax and try not to look so panicked otherwise it looks like I’m kidnapping you.” 

At that you laughed for the first time since arriving on the island and nudged his side while making no move to step out from his arm. It was strange how just being like this managed to calm you immensely. “Let’s hope Sanji doesn’t see. He’ll attack you on the spot and that’ll definitely blow our cover.”

“Yeah…would be worth it though.” Zoro grinned only to wince when you nudged his ribs a little harder. “I was kidding!” Well for the most part he was. 

[dr3c0mix]

Okay hear me out: yandere harpy. The reader is on a hike or something and he notices them and is immediately enamored. He grabs them and keeps them in his nest and because it's so high up they can't get down on their own 😳

Lovey Dovey

Harpy x GN Reader

CW: kidnapping, stockholm syndrome

first day back from my hiatus and were already on some more sweet sweet terato ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡ ive never written a harpy before but by golly ive been wanting to for a while! thank you smallcactus22 for requesting!

🪶 All you wanted was a fun adventure away from work, a breath of fresh air after being trapped in a colorless cubicle for god knows how long.

🪶 You wanted, no, needed a vacation. You looked through the many websites that showcased lovely tourist spots like beaches and retreats, all either a little too shady or way too expensive.

🪶 One caught your eye though, an ad for a hiking trip across a mountainous landscape filled with lush greens and lovely pink flowers, it was pretty affordable too. You immediately booked a spot on the hiking trail and wrote up a letter to your boss that you'd be on vacation for a few days.

🪶 When you finally came, you were already enamored by the scenery. Everything was a pink and reddish hue from all the petals that fell from the trees. You saw a person holding up a sign that said, "Hiking Trail!" and quickly ran up to the group of people supposedly taking the same hike as you.

🪶 The tour guide explained the history of the trail, it sounded more of a legend or myth however, with him speaking of an ancient race of humans with the ability to fly.

🪶 You thought nothing of it, probably just a part of the place's culture or something, you then followed the rest of the group to start the hike.

🪶 You couldn't help this uneasy feeling of being watched while on the trail, like there was something following you as you continued along the red path surrounded by pinks and blueish greens. It was probably a wild animal or two, you were in a forest after all.

🪶 On the other hand, Kalva could do nothing but watch you from the dense flora he was perched within. He's seen humans travel through the harpy infested woods before, all of which were uninteresting as a dried leaf on the ground.

🪶 So when he laid his eyes on you, it felt like an arrow to his chest. He was taken aback by how cute you were, so soft, so graceful. With the shawl you had on he would've mistaken you for one of his kind if it were not for you walking alongside other humans.

🪶 The harpies were very weary of humans, especially tourists. Only the few that have grown up near the mountains know of their existence, one that is protected lest danger falls on them like the old dragons of legend that was wiped out by greedy humans who thought of themselves as divine saviors in a world of evil.

🪶 Even with all these thoughts swirling in his head, he thought you were different. You didn't look at all like the other tourist who were babbling to themselves about who knows what with their funny black bricks that sparked now and again. They were so clumsy and ditzy compared to you who was just admiring the scenery around you, truly in the moment unlike the others who only cared for a nice photo or two.

🪶 After about an hour, the group stopped at a rest stop to take a break, you kept watching the flora dance and sway as everyone else drank and rested their feet. You treaded deeper into the pink forest, making sure to keep the rest stop in sight.

🪶 Just then you hear rustling from above, a large shadow gliding past you from overhead. You would think it was a bird if not for the size of the shadow. The shadow circled around you, as the shaking of the leaves above grew louder and louder.

🪶 Now your uneasiness is back tenfold, your heart racing as you frantically look around.

🪶 There was nothing there however, and you breathe a sigh of relief before turning to go back to the rest stop.

🪶 You yelp as you are, however, met with giant yellow eyes staring at you. You trip on a tree root and fall on your butt as a man half covered in feathers stared at you, penetrating your very soul.

🪶 You try to scramble away but the creature keeps walking nearer and nearer, his head cocking to the sides like that of a bird.

🪶 Your back meets with a tree as you're left in the mercy of this massive birdman in front of you. You feel tears starting to form in your eyes as a taloned hand reaches to your face.

🪶 You were surprised at the gentle touch you felt on your face as Kalva wiped your tear away, cooing softly.

🪶 "uhm...hello there?" you mutter.

🪶 "hello..." He replies in a raspy but quiet voice.

🪶 "Wh-who are you?" you ask, the tension in your body dissipating as you get more comfortable with him, well not really comfortable, just a little less tense as you were before.

🪶 "My name is...Kalva..."

🪶 "Kalva..I'm (Y/N).."

🪶 His pupils dilate at the sound of your name. He mutters it to himself like a word he wished to remember.

🪶 He sniffs at you, all over your body and clothes, focusing then on your bag. You reach inside and take out some crackers you packed for the hike and gave it to him. He was confused at first, never seeing a seed or insect like it, but was then greeted with a wonderous sensation of sweet and salty. He squawks happily, nuzzling his head into your chest, making you a tad bit surprised and unsure of what to do now that a bird man creature thing is cuddling you in a forest. You placed a hesitant hand on the back of his head and started petting him, he started cooing very softly, that must mean he's happy.

🪶 You then hear the tour guide call for everyone to continue on the trail, you greet Kalva goodbye and try to walk away when you're suddenly grabbed by your shoulders and lifted up. You yelp and scream, asking to be put down but the harpy ignored your pleas and flew high up into the mountains.

🪶 Oh what a day it was for Kalva! He knew the little human was the one! They fed him, they preened him, just like a good mate would! He must have been very good as his courting! Of course, his little mate couldn't have seen it from down below, but they surely would have if they accepted him so quickly right afterwards!

🪶 Finally they reached his perch atop a tall mountain. It was a giant circular hut of some kind made of branches and lined with colorful flowers and leaves. Inside, his nest was filled with cotton of the softest kind, only the best for his mate! Little baubles and shiny trinkets hung from the curved ceiling and trinkled softly as they shook. He placed them down as they shook in fear at the height.

🪶 Kalva landed next to them cooing and chirping comfortingly, don't worry my lovely! You won't fall from here! I will protect you!

🪶 It was like this for days; you trapped a thousand miles high in a nest you can't escape from otherwise the harpy would find you and carry you back. He would leave for hours at a time, offering you food and small gifts he's found he thought you might like, some of them things left behind by other tourists like a water bottle, a book, a hat and a few others.

🪶 At night, he'd pull you into a warm embrace under his wings. He can't help but stare at you as you snore peacefully under him.

🪶 Of course you were frightened to the core the whole time, but you tried your best to explain to him that you weren't his mate and that you needed to go home, but he kept insisting that you two were meant for each other, for him to coddle and fed you and you to love and preen him when he returns home.

🪶 He dreams for you both to have chick of your own, the idea of coming home to the happy chirping of little hims and yous gave him a happy giddy feeling.

🪶 After a while you figured getting down on your own wasn't an option and Kalva was your only hope in returning to the familiar world below.

🪶 You started talking to him more, books he would bring home, you'd read to him, food collected would be shared between you two.

🪶 And somehow, throughout this whole process, you managed to grow quite close to the man.

🪶 He understood English more, now collecting other foods like stolen snacks from tourists instead of bugs and wild fruits he'd usually eat.

🪶 You found yourself missing his company when he was away. He'd chirp happily as you rushed to hug him as he lands in your shared nest after a hunt.

🪶 Soon enough, he'd trust you to explore the mountain's peak outside of the nest. There was a lovely little lake next to his abode with a tree bearing red fruits. In the distance you could hear the faint calls of other harpies.

🪶 All you wanted was a fun adventure away from work, and you were given more than what you've bargained for, a glimpse into a hidden world of creatures far beyond your imagination, with one of them being your very loving mate.

and as a bonus, Kalva doodle for yall <3

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 9

part 1 | part 8 | ao3

cw: medical emergency

He ditches his car at the top of the street, runs the rest of the way because there are too many people standing around — a small crowd of onlookers clustered at the bottom of the lane, gawking in their sleep shirts and flannels like the world isn’t trying to end for a fourth time. Fifth? He can’t keep track. He can’t even think, numb to everything but the pounding of his shoes against the pavement, the sirens wailing in his ears, the steady prayer in his pulse not her not now not both—

“Mom?” he shouts, voice cracking and raw. “Mom!!”

“It’s not for her.”

There’s a hand against his chest then, heel of a palm pressed to his sternum, and he slams into it like a brick wall. The air burns in his lungs; he can’t focus his eyes. “Wh-what?” he gets out, voice shaking, throat thick. Cold terror drools down his sweaty neck like the breath of a hungry monster. He’s a little kid again, swept up in the mayhem of a crowded mall. Where’s his mom; where’s his mom?

“Your mom’s in my house.” The voice is deep and slow, the hand flexing against his shirt. Fingers splayed. Heavy rings.

“…E-Eddie?” Steve’s vision swims, going yellow and purple then tunneling down to black, deep water filling his ears. Nothing makes any sense. “Munson, what—?”

“Your mom’s in my house,” he repeats like a mantra. Like a lighthouse in the fog, voice rumbling and sure. “She’s safe. She’s fine. You’re hyperventilating; take a breath.”

His breath is still catching quick and high in his throat, little puffs of cold mist. Can you drown in cold air? Can it condense inside your chest?

Eddie grips his shoulder, snaps his fingers in Steve’s face. “Hey. Hey, Steve? Come on, man, look at me. Steve. Look at me.”

Steve meets his gaze like the tide drawn to the moon.

“Deep breath,” he demonstrates, sucking air through an invisible straw, letting his chest and belly swell. Steve copies him until his vision starts to clear, until his heartbeat starts to calm. "That's it," Eddie tells him. "Good. Yeah, there we go."

Some hysterical part in the back of his brain wants to laugh. To start and never stop, just laugh and laugh and laugh until his fucking head explodes.

When he can breathe again, he pants weakly, “What is going on?”

Eddie guides him to a picnic table on the outskirts of the crowd, and they perch on top of it with their feet planted on the bench. The air feels calmer here.

Steve takes another breath.

Eddie points to the single-wide right next to Steve’s. “The wagon’s for your neighbor,” he grimaces in sympathy, one eye squinting shut as he cocks his head at Steve. “Ernie. You know him?”

“Mm.” Ernie Gerwitz. Late 60s, a widower with liver spots and arthritis in both hands. Bad heart, worse drinking habit. Fucking hates Steve’s mom because she backed over his begonias. “Not well.”

They didn’t interact much beyond an occasional neighborly nod, although Steve did once earn the guy’s good graces by yelling at Misty while shooing her off with a rake. (‘Little bitch left me a whole damn weasel last year,’ he’d grumbled as he stooped to pick up the newspaper. ‘Can't shoot her, though, 'cause she scares away the possums.’) And now…

Steve can’t make out much from here, just the shape of a four-man stretcher being carried out the door, strobe light streaks in his vision as the EMTs load up the van.

“Is he…” Steve gulps, clasping his hands between his knees. He doesn’t want to ask this question. The words taste moldy in his mouth. “Is he dead?”

Eddie’s hand shakes a little when he drags it down his cheek. His answer comes on a wobbly sigh, an almost melodic quality to the tension in his voice. “No-o idea, man. Your, uh, your mom, ya know, she— She found him. In, um. In the yard." "Jesus." "Said he was just, like... lying there. In the grass.” Eddie stares off into the distance like he’s seeing it right now; makes a wet clucking sound as his bottom lip quivers. “Thinks it was, a- a heart thing, or something? Shit, I don’t know. She was pretty freaked out when she knocked on my door.”

Steve can't picture it. He hasn’t seen her express a single true emotion since July.

A hesitant hitch of breath, and Eddie chews on his next words, tapping a hand against his thigh. “She’s, uh... she’s… calmer now. Or. At least-”

Steve rolls his eyes, knows exactly where this is going. Eddie tries again: “I mean, she seemed like-”

“Like a fucking zombie?” Steve supplies.

“Yeah,” Eddie huffs, a nervous laugh of relief. You said it, man, not me. There’s something serious in his gaze, something curious and searching.

Something almost kind. Steve shrinks away from it like a vampire in the sun. Go on, he wants to say, ask about the fucking pills. Wants to goad him into a fight, some mean, sharp thing inside him itching to see someone else bleed.

Steve bites his tongue until he tastes metallic tang. Copper covering mildew; fresh bloom coating decay. He swallows hard, lets them both slide down his throat — blood and ghosts, life and death. The River Styx must taste like pennies.

The siren starts again, and Eddie groans and hangs his head. “Christ," he murmurs to the dirt, “Wayne’s gonna be so bummed.”

They both watch in silence as the ambulance goes by.

—

part 10

okay same deal tagging whoever commented yesterday (if your settings will let me) you’re all delightful tysm 😘 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @thefreakandthehair @slutforcoffein @manda-panda-monium @munsonfamilybandalso @aliea82 @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @lololol-1234 @hotluncheddie @pennyplainknits @disrespectedgoatman @carolinachickadee @insideiscold @acedorerryn @anne-bennett-cosplayer @violetsteve my actual wife blessings upon your house @lighthousebeams @steves-strapcollection @sirsnacksalot @stevesbipanic @slowandsteddie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @so-get-this-sammy @annabanannabeth @runninriot @cuips-not-cute @a-little-unsteddie @envyadams-vs-me @ppunkpuppyy if i forgot anyone i’m sorry i am very sleep deprived

[barleyo]

Miss Independent.

Hobie Brown X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: Did y'all miss me? Of course you did! Sorry to leave you all for so long, I was on one of my world-famous hiatuses. Sorry, it will most definitely happen again though. Thank you all for sticking by me. I hope you enjoy this piece.

Tags: foreplay, fingering, established relationship, smut, explicit content

Wordcount: 869

(I guess this could be seen as a part two to Bubbles, so take it as you will! Thank you for reading, apologies for the short length!)

She pushed the door to the apartment open quietly, cringing at the small squeal it let out. She felt awful. It had been the longest night she had ever worked through, her feet, back, and arms all hurt, her hair and makeup had been completely messed up, and to top it off, she had reeked of alcohol from a stray drink that had been spilled on her.

She quickly discarded her shoes, kicking them off next to the door. She made her way over to the couch. Her arms fiddled behind her back to untie her serving apron, but she couldn’t work the knot out. Sighing, she threw her hands down to her sides before she felt a pair of large hands wrap around her waist.

“‘Ey there, (Y/N),” her boyfriend said quietly into her ear, tracing his fingers over her sides. “Rough night?”

She did not respond, instead leaning back into his touch and mumbling. “Can you get this for me?”

He hummed and undid the knot, working it out with one hand while his other one remained perched on (Y/N)’s hip. Hobie pulled the apron off and tossed it thoughtlessly, keeping his focus on his girl.

“Gonna tell me what happened?”

He tightened his grip around her and pulled her down on his lap on the couch. He placed her legs over his and massaged her shoulders with his big, calloused hands.

“‘M jus’ so tired of that place,” she said over a hum. His hands worked deep into the tense muscles between her shoulder blades. “Workin’ me half to death,” she threw her head back onto his shoulder so that she could look at him, giving him a weak smile “and my feet hurt so fuckin’ bad.”

“Ah, s’no good. My hardworking girl.” He parted her thighs slightly with his knee and placed his hand over the flesh. “Y’need to relax, can’t keep exhausting y’self like this.”

"I know, but I can't just call off. My boss barely wanted to let me off when I was sick, he won't care if I'm just tired." She softly followed his motions and spread her thighs further for him, gasping when his hand rubbed her over her jeans. "Ah, please don't stop, I need a release so bad tonight," she pleaded.

"Wouldn't dream of stoppin', baby. Just lemme take care of you, yeah?"

Her lashes fluttered, briefly kissing the tops of her cheeks. She felt Hobie's hands start to slip past her unbuttoned jeans and explore, and she just let him. Having no energy left, she allowed him to fiddle with her to his heart's content. 

His fingers pinched her clit softly, squishing the little nub. He chuckled when (Y/N) moaned his name under her breath at the feeling. "God, those people take you for granted. 'M so lucky to have you all to m'self."

He moved from simple pinches and pokes to full circular motions. Small, clockwise strokes were delivered to her clit, with the calloused tips of Hobie's fingertips adding onto the already fulfilling sensation.

"Fuck, Hobie, right there." Her eyebrows knitted together tightly, jaw popping frustratedly as she chased her high. "Wait, no, don't slow down."

"Patience, love, patience."

He slid his fingers down from her clit to her entrance, teasing the slick hole with his fingertips.

"I thought you were doing this for me, not so that you could see me squirm," she said, offer a fake pout.

"Oh, but it is for you. I know you love to feel these in ya." To punctuate his words, he roughly curled his fingers into her, barely prodding the pudgy, gummy spot that she so desperately needed to be hit.

Hobie scissored her open, spreading his middle and index finger while they were comfortably in her. He placed his head on her shoulder and looked over it, eyes clouding with lust as he saw drips of arousal escaping her.

"You're  the prettiest little thing, aren't you? Coating my fingers, nice n good."

His fingers made another plunge into her, this time angling to hit her G-spot. He went in and out, pounding into it until his girlfriend shifted into a huffing mess. 

Her moans were no longer moans, they had turned into breathy, long exhalations. She braced herself, knowing that she would burst at any moment.

"Getting all tight on me now," Hobie mused, running his tongue over the shell of her ear. "Just let go."

So she did. 

A fast, flashing set of squeezes attacked his two fingers. (Y/N) gripped Hobie's wrist tightly, trying to ground herself in any way possible because if she didn't, she thought the pleasure would surely ascend her into heaven.

She didn't sit there for long, though, ready to feel more of her boyfriend. She shifted herself in his lap so that she could face him head on. Straddling his hardened cock over his pants, she started to slowly grind herself down.

"Thank you, Hobs, I needed that so badly."

"So did I, baby. The night's not over though, is it?"

"Of course not," she said, pressing her full weight down on his length. "You know that you have to tip your servers, so hurry up and let me have yours."

[stories-and-chaos]

Shrike: How to Train Your Exorcist

[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” Ace x ace relationship, both parties are moderately sex favorable.]

[One shot, word count 1425, Cw: mild cursing]

—————

There was barely a month before Extermination Day. The Hazbin Hotel was packed for the first time with residents; cannibals and your avian demons, preparing to defend against the exorcists. The cannibals were used to ripping their prey to shreds. They needed practice hitting weak spots and wielding angelic weapons instead of their teeth and claws.

Your flock had flight and agility but the majority relied on hit and run tactics. They needed to learn not to dash off but continue their attack. Fortunately a couple of your followers had a more hawk-like design and the hunting ability to match. And you of course had the look of a butcher bird; you had plenty of experience taking down opponents.

“Alright you lot! We’ve got techniques you need to learn if you’re going to last longer than thirty seconds on extermination day. Angels are used to being unopposed in the air; they fly down, attack, then fly off to their next victim. So we take advantage of that.” You paced in front of the gathered demons.

You were short, but most of your people weren’t much bigger. “Exorcists aren’t going to be looking above themselves for targets. Even a small fighter diving at high speed can knock their target out of the sky. If we can grab and spin them, we might even break bones when they hit the ground.”

Some of the more delicate members of the group looked at each other dubiously. “Not to mention, they don’t fight together. They hunt down targets individually. Which means we can team up against them.” Now they looked more curious. “We don’t even have to make direct contact; two or more of us diving right next to them at top speed is going to hit them with our wakes. Knock them off balance and they’ll be easy targets for Pentious’ ranged weapons.

“We’re all going to have angelic steel weapons. Slash at them as you dive by, you might hit limbs or a wing. If you’re lucky, you’ll hit the neck. Ultimately, our goal is to disrupt them in the sky and get them to where the cannibals can finish them off. Now, let’s start with diving runs.”

You ended up holding multiple target dummies aloft with little whirlwinds. The demons weren’t very accurate at first, but they picked up the concept quickly. Before the week was out, more than half were knocking the dummies off their perches and almost all were trying weapons during their dives.

Alastor was doing his own preparations, but he did help setting up the targets. His tentacles held them in place when you needed a break. He also amused himself by making surprise attacks to keep the fliers on their toes.

You hauled Husk over at least once a day to join the flight group. He still didn’t like having wings, but you pointed out he needed every advantage he could get. And you knew how rusty the former Overlord was. So you shoved him right into the lot for practice.

The one you couldn’t get a hold of was Vaggie. She was spending all her time instructing the cannibals, then working with Charlie after. You’d seen her new wings and according to her royal girlfriend, the former exorcist had been in Hell for years. If Husk was rusty, Vaggie likely was too.

Ten days before the early Extermination, you walked up to Vaggie after the group’s lunch break. “Let’s leave the troops to Charlie for the afternoon, ma petite. You’re overdue for some time with me.” You linked your arm in hers and essentially dragged her with you. Charlie tried to come with you, but you waved her off. “Not to worry princess, I’ll give her back in one piece!”

“What the hell are you doing?” Vaggie didn’t really sound angry, just annoyed at your pushiness.

“I am giving you something you badly need.” You brought her to a patch of grass near your flock’s training area. You had told everyone to clear out of the sky in this area; this wasn’t a group session. “You’ve got those pretty new wings, cher. Let’s prove they’re not decorative, hm?”

With that you launched into the sky, hovering about twenty feet above the ground. “I know how to fly, Y/N.” Her voice turned harsher than usual as she joined you. “And Carmilla already showed me how to fight angels.”

You smiled, got a bit more altitude, and raced past her in a dive that sent her spinning in the air. “Carmilla, for all her skill and charm, is sadly limited by gravity,” you said, pulling out of your dive. You grabbed Vaggie’s arm as you passed her again, this time pulling her up with you. You brought her face close to your own. “We are not.” Before she could respond, you grabbed her shirt, spun her in the air and threw her toward the ground.

She managed to get control and brake before she hit the ground. “Allons’y cher. You know how to beat angels?” You summoned a stiletto in each hand. “Let’s make sure you can beat them where they feel strongest; the sky.” Vaggie pulled out her spear before launching herself at you.

She was right; she did know how to fly and fly well. It seemed flying was like riding a bike, you never really forgot. But she was also out of practice and had never sparred with someone like you. Someone willing to fight dirty, with tooth, talon, wings, and every bit of strength in your small frame.

That first day, she could barely touch you. But by the end of the day you could tell she was getting more fluid before the tiredness set in. She had a grin on her face as she begrudgingly said, “Okay, you’ve got a point. I need practice.”

“So you’ll be here tomorrow afternoon?” She rolled her eye and agreed before finding Charlie. You stretched your wings out and Alastor manifested behind you. “Looking like you were enjoying yourself today my dear.”

“I did, cher. Husk refuses to spar with me and none of our followers can quite keep up. Despite the situation, it’s fun to find someone who can.” You smiled up at him and placed your hand in his outstretched one. His shadows enveloped you, delivering you to the hotel suite.

Alastor led you to the table and pulled out your chair. “We’ve hardly been able to spend time together recently. Will you let me have your attention for the night my dear?”

“Gladly, darling.” After dinner (gumbo that reminded you of quiet nights both in the living world and Hell), the two of you relaxed on the couch together. You each had a book to read; the only sounds were the turning of pages and the chirps and drones from the bayou. Just being in each other’s presence helped calm your nerves about the upcoming battle.

The following week was packed with training and preparing the hotel’s grounds for the attack. Vaggie showed up every day after lunch to practice with you. As a former exorcist, she was experienced with various weapons already. She picked up on your style without too much difficulty.

Two days before the deadline, she grappled you in midair. Her remaining eye glowed as she continued her movement, spinning you with her own body as the axis. Like you had to her the first day, she flung you to the ground, her rotation giving the throw more force.

Too close to brake, you resorted to cushioning your fall with wind. Once your head stopped spinning, you looked up at her and started clapping. “Well done, cher!” You rustled your feathers, getting everything back into place before taking to the air again. “Now, let’s make sure you can do it again.”

It turned out she could. Neither of you could manage too many in a row without getting a wicked headache. But Vaggie had a grasp of everything you could show her in those ten days. Much of what you had practiced together was new for her, meaning it was one more way to catch the angels off guard.

Inevitably, Extermination Day arrived. You waited with the rest of the defenders. Vaggie had her wings hidden for now; none of her former comrades knew she could fly again and she wanted it to be a trump card.

Golden light rained down, Vaggie rallied those around her with Charlie, you and yours took to the sky to teach the rest of the exorcists a lesson.

——————

@whitewolfsoldat @edgyboi10000 @ch3sire-blu3 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @bengewatch @chewbrry

[cal-flakes]

╰┈➤ getting high with dealer!rafe

warnings: drug use, swearing, a tad nsfw. (possible confusion over drug terminology, for example; ‘backdrop’ is the build up you get in the back of your throat after sniffing cocaine)

summary: y/n gets high with dealer!rafe at a party.

perspiration apparent on his forehead as the room filled with bodies, music booming as the people around him swayed. rafe sat on the couch in the basement of the house, a couple dozen packets of white powder spread across the table in front of him. blocking out obnoxious laughter, he scanned the room, cocaine paranoia kicking in a bit. the ceiling above him creaked here and there, the vast amount of people upstairs threatened to break the floorboards.

unbeknownst to him, sarah had invited a couple of her friends to his party, including y/n. a girl so sweet and kind to the people around her it almost made him sick to his stomach. she was somewhat of a hidden gem in the outerbanks, doing well in school, keeping to her self and so on. y/n was everything rafe cameron wasn’t, yet this intrigued him. the urge to corrupt his sisters friend grew each time she visited the cameron household.

“just stay for a little while y/n, please? for me?” sarah pleaded with her friend, desperate to crack the shell around her. sighing, y/n glanced from the lemonade in her cup to her friend. recognising the look in her eyes, sarah squealed and wrapped her arms around the girl. “thank you! i promise we’ll have fun!”

battling the thoughts in her head, y/n decided against fleeing the scene and returning home to her books, wanting to please her friend.

linking arms, sarah and y/n moved to the makeshift dance floor that the party-goers had created in the living room. giggling to eachother, the girls swayed in sync with the music, swirling around eachother.

“sarah..” y/n feigned a concerned look “no! please don’t leave yet! we just started having fun!” chuckling at this, y/n grabbed the cup from sarah’s hand, stealing a sip.

sarah’s eyes lit up “oh my gosh! do you want your own?” she asked, silently begging her to say yes. y/n nodded, laughing as her friend dragged her through the crowd.

reaching the kitchen island, sarah stared at the copious amounts of alcohol in front of her, trying to work out what y/n would like.

“how about this?” sarah turned, holding out a bottle of vodka for y/n to inspect. her face twisted a bit, unsure until sarah spoke again “I can add in some lemonade, and maybe some juice to mask the taste?” face untwisting, y/n agreed with her, reaching for her new drink.

y/n felt overly daring tonight, something about actually staying at a party for more than thirty minutes made her see what she was missing out on.

three vodkas with juice and lemonade down, she started feeling a little buzzed, and a bit too dizzy to keep up with the whirling bodies around her. “hey sarah? im going to go find somewhere to sit down for a little while” y/n called, taking off once she received a nod.

reaching the upstairs hallway, y/n looked around at the numerous doors, her mind was too fuzzy to make out which room was her friends. taking a chance, she opened the door furthest left and shut it behind her. she made her way to the neatly made bed, perching on the edge as she let herself get lost in thought.

back in the basement, rafe stood up from his spot on the couch, looking over the now empty table. he’d made quite a bit of profit that night, despite having kept some to himself. slipping the wad of cash into his pocket, he pushed through the sweaty bodies, heading for his room.

before heading upstairs, he was stopped by a hand on his arm. “rafe, have you seen y/n?” his brows furrowed as he looked at his sister. “y/n’s here?” sarah huffed at his unhelpful answer. “yes, obviously. she was a bit buzzed and went to sit somewhere, now i can’t find her!” rafe nodded at sarah and let her know he’d keep an eye out.

the stoic look on his face was wiped away when he found y/n sat on the edge of his bed upon entering his room. jumping slightly, her eyes widened at the sight of her friends brother. “oh, is this your room?, im so sorry!” she panicked, having heard things about rafe’s temperament. shaking his head, he moved towards her slowly.

“nah, it’s all good princess, y’alright?” y/n’s face flushed slightly at the nickname, not that she wasn’t used to it, but it always got to her.

rafe’s growing interest in his sisters friend had provoked him to become more flirty whenever she was around. “um, yeah im fine, thank you..” y/n smiled sweetly, unintentionally batting her lashes as she did. smirking, rafe sat down on the opposite side of the bed, resting against the wooden headboard.

“too much to drink huh?” chuckling lowly as she nodded. “well, i’ got something that could help if you want it..” rafe reached into his bedside drawer, stuffing the money from his pocket inside before rummaging around underneath some magazines.

y/n looked on at him curiously, waiting for the miracle to be revealed. pulling his arm back out, her face dropped as he held out a half empty packet in front of her.

“i-is that..” she stuttered, “coke?” rafe sat up, pushing some loose hairs behind her ear. “you don’t gotta do it if you don’t want to, it’ll help though” he stated, carefully opening the small bag and poured some on the top side of his thumb. y/n watched rafe as he lifted his hand, sniffing the small bump up his nostril.

“well princess? what’s it gonna be?” he asked. concentration painted her face as she considered it. “i-uh, if I do, would you promise to never say a word?” she questioned him, worried he’d tell his sister.

sarah often made it her mission to keep rafe away from y/n, knowing him well enough to identify his intentions. y/n knew it wouldn’t go down well if sarah found out she was in rafe’s with him, never mind sniffing cocaine.

“your secrets safe with me baby” shuffling towards her, he tipped out another bump onto his thumb and held out his hand. y/n’s breath quickened as she wrapped a hand around his wrist, keeping it steady.

her mind was racing. what about this? what about that? glancing up at his expectant eyes, she quickly pinched her other nostril closed and went for it.

sniffing up as hard as she could, rafe quickly reached for her. “tip your head back a bit..” holding the back of her neck gently, “and sniff up again” he instructed. y/n rested her head in rafe’s palm, doing as he said.

as she brought her head back, a sound of disgust left her throat as mucus began to build up. “that’s just the backdrop baby, here, i’ll get you a drink”

returning from his ensuite, he handed her a glass of water which she quickly accepted, desperate to get rid of the lingering taste of gasoline in her mouth. “how do you do that? that tastes awful” she frowned, making a mental note to never do that again. “it’s about the feeling princess, you get used to the taste”

checking her phone, a quiet gasp slipped from her lips. it was so late, her parents were probably wondering where she was. “shit rafe, i need to get home” swiftly, y/n jumped from the bed, making her way to the door.

“woah! not so fast y/n, you can’t go home like that” rafe called, stopping her in her tracks. “like what?” he gestured towards the mirror on her left, watching as she stepped in front of it.

“oh my god…” y/n muttered, unsure of who she was looking at as a girl with pupils like saucers stared back at her. “what am i gonna do?” she almost cried, there was no way her parents could see her like this.

“stay the night” rafe said calmly, a little too calm for y/n’s liking. she looked at him like he’d suggested they go to the moon or something. “are you crazy? sarah would kill me!” rafe’s lips turned up into yet another smirk.

“so what?”

[pineapplequencher]

five stars ੈ✩‧₊˚

wherein surfer portgas d. ace tries his hand at snowboarding. he fails, but he's pretty sure he's met the love of his life.

surfer!ace, snowboarder!mc, afab reader, unedited, sfw, 3.6k words

tw: blood mention

a/n: this is my entrance exam into floptropica university (i also suck and snowboarding and avoid it. im a surfing girl. sorry if i got osmething wrong)

Should be easy enough, Ace thinks. I surf, so this’ll probably be easy. Besides, what’s the difference between snowboarding and surfing? He’s totally gonna shred regardless. 

But the gear is heavy, and the boots are clunky, and the helmet looks ridiculous. He’s used to the autonomy of having no shirt on, with sun on his back and wind through his hair. The air here is frosty and unkind, the sun is hidden behind a blanket of clouds, and the other people in the gondola line look mean.

As he approaches the gondola to take him up the mountain, a worker with green hair and goggles barks at someone else before he turns to Ace. Ace hefts the heavy board under his arm and gives the worker a cheeky grin. “Hey.”

The worker’s name tag sports chipped letters—Zoro—and the worker himself gives Ace a tight line of a smile. 

“Hey, uh, after I get on this thing”—Ace motions to the swinging carriages supported by the lines that stretch to the high, white peak—“which way do I go to get to the bunny hill?” Zoro’s lips twitch, as if in an effort to hold back a laugh. Ace, a bit insecure now, adds, “My brothers went up before me, and I’m new to the area.”

Zoro glances at the mountain, then back to Ace. He checks his clipboard and readjusts the goggles over his eyes. Ace is sure those aren’t prescription-based, but Zoro’s voice is confident. “Sounds like you’re headed for Drum Island Hill. I think you take a right, and then a left. Should be right there.”

“Thanks, man,” Ace replies coolly.

“Yeah,” Zoro says. He turns back to his busywork. “You should probably strap a boot in before you go up. Okay, stand there, and the ski lift will take you up.”

Ace does so and waddles to the area. He flops his bulky body on the bench. This is his first time doing a winter sport, and he didn’t want to pay the hefty fee of lessons. The ski lift gains traction and lifts him into the air. 

When he reaches the top, he stumbles off the bench. He’s not used to his foot directly strapped onto his board. It gives him no leeway. He balances poorly and dismisses the worker that’s about to help him.

“I got it,” Ace says. “I’m good.”

Now, what did that guy below say? Ace peeks down the mountain. This is way higher than he thought. This is where the bunny hill is, right? He looked online at the review, and it said that this place is good for beginners. He’s starting to doubt the Internet’s honesty. 

Ace traverses across the hard, thick snow. He sludges his strapped boot behind him, copying the fellow snowboarders, and takes his steps with utmost carefulness. A right and a left. Should be easy enough, Ace consoles himself again. 

Having another board strapped to his foot feels like cheating on his surfboard at home, though.

After he drags his body to the right, he makes his way past a few wooden cabins with skis perched outside. He must be headed the right direction. A few skiers chat and laugh as they leave the cabin, Modelos in hand. Ace doesn’t feel that safe here anymore, but he has to meet Luffy and Sabo. And master this craft. He paid good money to rent the snowboard and gear. Can’t let it go to waste.

Once Ace reaches a thick collective of white-tipped evergreens, Ace scratches his head. This is a good spot to turn left. He navigates through the forest until he notices a sign: Black Diamond. That doesn’t sound like Drum Hill Island, but the names of these mountains go hard. Maybe they’re synonymous.

There’s very few people here—only two besides Ace—and one measly cabin. It looks closed. One of the snowboarders nods their head at the other and tightens the goggles. Then, they disappear down the snow. Ace’s gaze follows them.

Um, Ace thinks.

The road is steep, with bumps and swirls that slither down the mountain. The skinny trail is fenced off by the forest, and rocks jut out sporadically. The snowboarder slides and turns around the rocks and flips off of a mound. They hoot.

Ace turns. There’s no Luffy. There’s no Sabo. Maybe they’ve begun to make their way down as well. The second snowboarder here pats Ace’s back. “Hey, man, you from around here? You look nervous.”

“I’m not,” Ace says. “First time.”

“First time here? Oh, dude, this path is hella fun. Mind the giant rock when you’re around thirty feet in, though. It’ll trip you up, and it’s for sure accident prone,” the snowboarder replies. Then, they flip their snow goggles over their eyes. “See you down there.”

Then, Ace’s last bit of company is gone.

Alone in the desolate snow, Ace fantasizes about his surfboard. Whatever. Everyone’s a beginner at whatever they do. Luffy and Sabo probably had so much fun without Ace already. That alone fuels Ace’s FOMO into transmission. He will surf this mountain, or whatever they say.

Ace shakes away his nerves. He fixes the goggles over his eyes and knocks on his helmet for good luck. Then, he fastens his other boot onto the board. This doesn’t feel right, but that’s just his muscle memory. Ace feebly totters to the edge of the path. The wind whistles in his ears, further emphasizing how alone he is at the top.

Before Ace could hype himself up more, his balance shifts, careening his board, and suddenly he’s plummeting down the mountain. Ace screams. 

He holds his arms out in an attempt to position himself better, but the speed at which he’s shredding this mountain makes it impossible for Ace to maintain himself. He swears the other boarders weren’t going as fast as he was. They were skidding and sliding alongside the mounds of snow. Ace is just skidding.

Ace wobbles on his board. It’s so skimpy and malleable compared to a surfboard. Every small adjustment he makes essentially carves his path down here. Somehow, Ace sees himself not making it out of here alive. He has to choose how he wants to go out. 

He sees how this could be fun to an experienced snowboarder. He’s not that guy.

A bump in the path sends Ace into the sky. Falling on his back sounds bad. Falling on his face sounds worse. With how thick the snow is, he could fall headfirst into the snow and never be seen again. Ace channels his energy into twisting his body so that he lands on his butt. A busted tailbone is an easy fix. 

He curls his body and braces for impact.

Once he hits the snow, he hits it hard. The ocean waves are much kinder when it comes to falling off. The back of his helmet slams against the harsh snow, and his ears ring in pain. His tailbone takes a direct hit against the sleet of snow and ice, and rapid throbs of pain follow. His head is dizzy, and momentarily his legs lose feeling. The weight of his snowboard tugs him further down. Ace flails his arms to hold himself in the snow. 

Ace unbuckles one of his boots, and he breathes a sigh of relief. He’s alive, that’s for sure, and it hurts. Ass planted in the snow, Ace stretches his limbs and decides to wait a few minutes before he creates an action plan. The snow did a number on him. He can’t think. He might throw up. He’s the perfect bait for a bear. He’s going to die. He can’t even push himself out of his ass-created hole in the snow.

The high altitude of the mountain allows for the wind to whip Ace’s helmeted head around. His heavy head lolls around his shoulders. He can’t breathe. Ace fumbles to undo the clip, and he sloughs his helmet off next to him. 

His black locks are damp on his forehead. Ace shakes the sweat from his head, but the rapid movement causes him to groan. His snowy, cold glove grasps his forehead. This biting pain is uncomfortable. He might have to wait for help.

Ace tosses his helmet to the side and sighs, waiting for the pain to subside. What he tripped on must have been the rock in the road the other snowboarder informed him about. Just his luck.

Then, a giant shadow crosses the sky. Ace looks up. 

It’s another snowboarder flying above him. His mouth is open. He should shout for help, right?

Their form is impeccable—it’s something you see on a YouTube video. Their hand is gripped on the edge of the board, their knees tucked, and their other arm splayed out. Ace would give a lot to see a GoPro video of this person shredding snow.

He doesn’t need to shout for help; the snowboarder notices Ace. The snowboarder is distracted long enough for them to release their hold on the board and tumble into the snow. Ace hears a crunch and winces.

Ace watches the other snowboarder tumble into the snow. So that’s how you fall, he notes. The snowboarder’s gloves grasps against the mountain snow. They’re quick to unbuckle their boots and check their limbs and ankles. After they do a windmill with their arms, they pick up their snowboard and use it to hike their way to Ace. Snow cascades down their covered shoulders.

Although the helmet and goggles conceal their expression, Ace has a feeling that this person is mad.

Since he’s stuck, he lets the angry snowboarder approach him. He gulps. The slow, steady, and experienced stomps of the snowboarder alongside the harsh pikes of their snowboard against the mountain lets Ace know that there’s more pain bound his way.

Once the snowboarder is close enough, they peel back their goggles to reveal their face and shed the helmet entirely. They tuck it under their arm and stake their snowboard into the snow.

Fuck, Ace thinks. Why’d it have to be a pretty girl?

Similar to Ace, her hair is damp against her forehead and is frizzy from the tight hold of the helmet. Her lashes fan over her cheeks when she blinks, and her nose is scrunched. The sun behind the woman infuses her with a brilliant glow, which causes Ace’s breath to hitch, and her rainbow-hued goggles glint. Her brows create a pinch in her glabella, and a sneer is plastered against her face. Forget the GoPro, Ace would give a lot to see this woman’s smile.

Then, he notices her bloody, bruised lip. 

“What—the fuck”—her voices comes out in angered pants—“is wrong—with you?” She pokes a gloved finger against Ace’s chest, and he throws his hands up in surrender. “You’re a hazard, hello? At least get out of the path.”

“Sorry,” Ace replies meekly. “Um, sorry about your lip, too.”

“You have a lot to be sorry for,” the woman hisses. “Where’s your etiquette?”

“I’m new here.”

She doesn’t let her bottom lip stop her from chastising Ace. In fact, blood drips onto the white snow, fresh and bright. “New to the area, or new to snowboarding?”

“New to snowboarding…” Ace lowers his arms. 

The woman’s hand flies up to her head. Her visible rage has yet to leave. “This is a Black Diamond path, AKA what they use to categorize the most dangerous paths, AKA where only pros go, AKA metrosexuals like you shouldn’t be here.”

He still has time to look suave in front of her. He brushes his hair back and says, “I figured. What’s your na—”

“You should be at Drum Hill Island. This is Skypiea.”

“Okay.”

“Did you not see the experts only sign?” 

“I saw the Black Diamond sign,” Ace offers, but he must’ve added fuel to the fire since the woman plants a hand on her hip, unimpressed. “I—I didn’t know what that meant. I said I was a beginner.”

The woman sighs. “Give me a second.”

Ace watches her plod into the forest. She takes a moment to drop her helmet, unglove a hand, and check her phone in her pocket. She holds her phone close to her lip to see the damage. Then, she pockets her phone, fits her glove back onto her hand, and screams.

A flock of birds fly into the sky.

After she’s done, the woman grabs her helmet and slogs back to where Ace sits, still ass-down in the snow. Her blood begins to drip down her chin, a red trail is left behind in her wake. She’s too angry to pay attention to it, and Ace would rather not upset her more.

“You stuck?” she asks, her tone gentler than before, yet it still has an icy edge to it. 

“Yeah,” he admits.

The woman kneels down to unbuckle Ace’s foot free. She takes his snowboard and plants it into the ground next to him. She stands and dusts the snow from her knees, then she holds her hands out expectantly. Ace takes them, and she pulls him out of the snow. 

The force of it pushes her back—he’s a heavy, muscled guy, you know—and Ace trips over her. They land on the snow. Their faces are inches away from kissing, and Ace might’ve gone for it if she weren’t mad at him already, if her lip wasn’t bloody, and if he had some liquid courage. Both of their breaths come out in wispy tendrils of fog, and the woman’s face is studying Ace. He’s unsure if she’s incredulous or captured by his good looks.

He decides it’s the former when the woman says, “Can you get off.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” he murmurs and pries himself away. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she says as she sits upright. “Rough landing. I’m used to it, though. Anyway, you’re lucky I know a way out of here.” She stands up, plucks her helmet from the ground, and holds the edge of her snowboard. “Just get your stuff and follow me. You’ll be fine, if you have no other injuries.”

“I’m okay,” Ace says. He might have a concussion. This woman really is pretty.

“That’s good. No need for a rescue helicopter, then.”

Ace chuckles. “Yeah, that might be too much.”

The woman’s eyes crinkle. She must be trying to smile, since her lips wobble and her brows are raised. Obviously, her new wound makes it impossible. Ace is kind of proud of himself, and then his confidence is lowered because it’s his fault she busted her lip open.

Without another word, the woman goes into the forest, leaving Ace to frantically gather his gear and stumble behind her. He jogs—and nearly slips—until he’s next to her. The woman says nothing to him as he catches glances at her. 

It isn’t until the woman stops to free her hand from her glove does Ace say, “I’m really sorry, by the way.”

The woman looks at him as she raises her careful hand to her bloody lip. She wipes some of it away and hisses at the pain. She looks at the red on her finger and wipes it on her snow pants. “It happens.”

They continue their journey. Granted, she has every right to be upset. Ace clears his throat. “Do you come here often?”

“Yeah, I do,” she says. “Whenever I’m on break, I make the trip up here.”

“From what I saw, you’re pretty good.”

The woman smiles, this time with great care, in consideration of her lip. “Thanks. Lots of practice. But I never had the audacity to try a Black Diamond on my first try.”

“I followed instructions, I swear,” Ace insists. “There was this guy down there—Zoro, or whatever—and he told me to take a right, then a left to get to the bunny hill. I literally did that and ended up here.”

“Oh, that guy’s working today. No wonder,” the woman says. “He’s shit at directions.”

“He convinced me. He sounded so confident.”

The woman’s eyes meet Ace’s. She quickly refocuses on the slow shuffle of her feet. “I wouldn’t be surprised if other beginners are at Skypiea, too, but they wouldn’t have the audacity to actually ski or board it.”

She’s back to jabbing at him. He’ll take it. Ace shrugs. “Yeah, yeah, I’m full of myself.”

“So you do get that a lot.”

“I get it more often than I should,” Ace says. “Hey, once you get to know me, you’ll find that I’m a humble guy.”

The woman snorts and shoves Ace. “Humble people don’t say that.”

“And you would know that because you’re humble, huh,” Ace retorts.

“Yeah, once you get to know me, you’ll find that I’m a humble girl.”

“Okay, calm down.” 

After that, she doesn’t respond. Ace struggles to find a conversation topic. She might not want to talk because of her lip, but it seems she’s not exactly opposed to it. 

“Do you usually come with friends? I noticed you were alone,” he points out. Yep. He’s good. That’s good. Casual and smart.

The woman sighs. “Sometimes. I came with a college friend this week, but he sprained his ankle yesterday doing Skypiea. Did you come here with anyone?”

“Yeah, my younger brothers! They should be at the kiddie hill. I was tryna look for them before this happened…”

Ace wishes they met under better circumstances. If he had his iconic orange cowboy hat, he would have taken it off, held it to his chest, and asked for her name with a smile. He’d do that cheesy thing where he bows a bit and kisses her knuckles. Then, he’d impress her with a trip to the beach and show her how well he surfs. She’d ask him to teach her, probably, and he’d get to—

“Hello?” the woman says.

“Sorry?” Ace is saying sorry a lot today. It’s fine. This woman deserves it. 

“Your name? Excuse me?” the woman asks. “I’ve been asking.”

“It’s Ace,” he replies. “Sorry, your lip must hurt a lot. Um, what’s yours—”

“Oh! We’re here!” the woman chirps, and she points to a ski lift, buried in the clearing of the forest. Around the lift is a populated area, with plenty of children and families. Settled in the valley of the mountain, there are smaller slopes and neon netting to prevent accidents. There are lessons held with snowboarders and skiers alike in blue uniforms, watching the people work their way around the snow.

Ace’s shoulders droop. “Oh. We’re here.”

“Go ahead and find your brothers.” The woman gives him a dismissive wave. “I’ll check in with the infirmary about my lip. I might need stitches.”

Here’s his chance. “Yeah, I’m really sorry. If—If it costs anything, I can give you my number, and you can let me know about the cost. I’ll pay.”

The woman hesitates. Ace crosses his fingers discreetly. Please say yes. Please say yes. Please say yes please say yes please say yes. She fishes a hand in her pocket and waves her phone in front of him. “Sure. Go ahead.”

Ace takes it. He remembers he has gloves on. He sheepishly sheds them off and tosses them to the side as quick as he can. “Oops. Um. Let me see…” Ace’s hands shake as he types his name in, and then his phone number. He double-checks the digits. He triple-checks it even. He makes sure it’s right. He really wants her to reach out. 

“Hey,” the woman prods.

“Here you go,” Ace says and hands her phone back. “Call me. Or text me. Do whatever you want. Do whatever’s comfortable for you.”

“Okay… I will,” she replies, and Ace takes it as a promise.

Again, he watches her maneuver through the people in the area until she reaches an information desk. She rings the bell, and a worker comes out. The woman motions to her lips, and the worker freaks. Ace watches the woman laugh, throw her head back, and wave her hands.

Damn. Ace wants to make her laugh like that. He’ll wait for the text. He’ll cook up something good. Something that’ll make her kick her feet and giggle.

Behind him, a familiar voice says, “Looks like you made it.”

Ace turns around. It’s Zoro, the freak from the bottom of the ski lift. It looks like his goggles are still for show because he has them strapped around his eyes with no helmet. Ace wants to yell at this guy for making him look like a loser in front of a pretty girl, but he finds that he’ll settle for a nasty Google review.

“I did,” Ace says through gritted teeth. He then points to the woman. “What’s her name, by the way?”

Zoro whistles. “This is a place to snowboard and ski, not pick up chicks.”

Never mind. Ace is ticked. “Yeah, well, your directions actually led me to something called a Black Diamond Skypiea thing, and she helped me out. I just wanna know her name, dude.”

Zoro laughs.

Ace waits. 

Once Zoro’s maniacal laughter is over, Zoro says, “That’s [Name]. You got lucky by meeting her. Wow. This is crazy. Sanji’s been trying to get his contact in her phone for ages. Good luck.”

Smug, Ace can’t hide the growing smile on his cheeks. That Sanji guy must be butt-ugly and not worth [Name]’s time at all. Ace’ll show her what a real man can do. Well, he would, but the ball’s in [Name]’s court. All Ace has to do is wait for the hospital bill to come in. 

Ace pats Zoro on the back. “Thanks, man. I mean it.”

✭✭✭✭✩ decent place to ski and snowboard. personal faves are skypiea and wano. i've done alabasta too but i've heard things about it being artifical snow and you know what i can tell it's artifical... read more - [name]

✭✭✩✩✩ Gyatt damn is all i gotta say. Nami is fine as hell i want her 😍 I also broke my skull doing thriller bark they need to fix that shit asap - brookhardboner

✭✭✭✭✭ Would’ve given this place 1 star but Im pretty sure I met the love of my life today - firefistace

[runnning-outof-time]

Id like to request a blurb! Also congrats on 3.5k followers!

John + "I didn't get your name."(fluff)

Thanks for sending this in, anon! I’m sorry it took me so long to write your request! I hope you like what I did with it. I decided to share one last story in 2023 - here’s hoping that 2024 is filled with many, many more. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration - find more stories here!

A Happy New Year

John Shelby x Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 914

Summary: (Y/N) meets a charming man by chance while at a New Years Eve celebration.

The excitement of the people in the city square rose with each passing minute. The people of Birmingham were all ready to ring in the new year. But no one was as ready for 1920 to come as (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was.

She’d had a tough year, one that she was ready to forget. Her friends had decided to take her out to the city square in hopes that they’d be able to ring in the new year on a high note. (Y/N) eagerly agreed. She was so ready for some happy.

But what she didn’t expect was to lose her friends halfway through her time spent in the public space. They said they’d be going to one of the vendors for something to eat; that they’d be back right away. Some twenty minutes had passed by now though, and (Y/N) was getting tired of waiting. So she decided she’d go out to look for them.

But all of her searching had turned up empty. They were nowhere to be found. She couldn’t help but let out a sigh as she came back to the same place she started at.

“You lost, love?” a man’s voice came from her left. She turned to find him leaning up against the wall. He was wearing a long, dark coat and had a peaked cap on his head. It was pulled down so that his eyes were covered, but she could see a toothpick perched between his lips. Even though it should have, she didn’t find his presence to be ominous in any way.

“No. Just looking for someone,” she answered, sending a closed mouth smile in his direction.

“Someone I can help find?” he asked another question.

“It’s a lost cause,” she brushed his offer off, “thanks though.”

Nothing more was said as (Y/N) turned to look out at the crowds of people that were gathered in the square. She could have left, but something was keeping her in that spot.

“Are you here with anyone?” she asked before she even had the chance to think of what she was saying.

“I, uhh…” the man started to say, but (Y/N) jumped in before he could finish his thought.

“I’m sorry, it’s none of my business…I shouldn’t have came out and asked that,” she scrambled to apologize for her abrupt question.

“It’s not a problem,” it was his turn to brush her off. (Y/N) finally built up the courage to look his way again, and she couldn’t stop her cheeks from heating up when she noticed that he was smiling. Butterflies were set off in her stomach when she noticed that his eyes were now visible too, and they were practically twinkling. “I am here alone,” he then answered her original question.

(Y/N) nodded in response to his statement, mentally kicking herself when she realized that she had no clue of what to say next or where she was even going with her question.

“Is there a reason why you aren’t looking for the person you’ve lost?” the man asked, his brows furrowed.

“Oh I’ve spent my time looking for them,” she answered, “it’s just not how I wanted to ring in the new year. Besides…maybe I want to spend my time with you now,” she couldn’t help but smile as she finished speaking.

“Oh really?” the man question, unfurrowing his eyebrows so that he could raise them as the corners of his lips tugged upwards in a grin.

“Yeah, why not?” she tried to be nonchalant as she shrugged, “two people, alone in the square celebrating the new year. It’d be better to be in the company of someone, right?”

“Who’s to say I was here to celebrate?” he challenged her.

“You…you’re not?” she quickly became confused, stumbling over her words.

“I wasn’t before, but I am now,” he answered, his grin reappearing as she let her nervousness come out in a chuckle, “I’d enjoy celebrating it with you,” he added, sending a wink her way.

“Well I’m honored,” she smiled at him, his gaze on her making all of her confidence return. “I just realized…I didn’t get your name,” she pointed out.

“I didn’t get yours either,” he countered.

“Well I asked you for yours first.”

The man chuckled at her insistence before sharing his name with her: “it’s John.”

“It’s nice to meet you, John. My name’s (Y/N),” she shared her name with him, sending a smile his way.

“I believe the pleasure’s mine,” he grinned, once again setting the butterflies off in (Y/N)’s stomach. She giggled at his statement and then dropped her eyes to the pavement as she mentally kicked herself once more for acting like a school girl in with a crush front of a man she’d just met. Maybe there was some truth in the act though - she couldn’t deny that a crush was starting to develop for this man.

“Well, John…” she started, lifting her eyes to his once more, “I believe that we’ve got a happy new year in store for us now.”

“A happy new year, indeed,” he agreed with her before adding, “now let’s go enjoy ourselves.” (Y/N) quickly nodded along with his suggestion before he placed his hand against the small of her back and led her towards the square.

And enjoy themselves they did…so much so that their happy new year started off with a midnight kiss.

I…I’m not quite sure I like the direction I took this one in. It was one of those where I had an idea but not so much a path for executing it. I hope you liked it anyway! Thanks for reading!

**tags will be put in the reblogs so that hopefully the notification gets sent out

MASTERLIST

[mountttmase]

Cherry Earrings

Note - okay before we start I need you to listen to this song first, or have it on it the background cause this fic is heavily based on it. Thank you to the anons I spoke to about this a while back as it got me back into writing when I was struggling. I really hope you all enjoy and feedback is appreciated as always ❤️

Pairing - Mason Mount × Reader

Word count - 3.3K

Warnings - fluff and some suggestive content

There was something about England in the sun that always picked your mood up drastically. After months of grey skies and wind so forceful it nearly knocked you over most mornings, waking up to blue skies and the heat of the sun on your face made you happier than you ever thought it could.

It was one of those rare days that you and Mason had to yourselves. No where to be and no one to answer to but yourselves so when Mason suggested the idea of a picnic in the park near by that afternoon you were happy to agree.

You were currently in the small Sainsbury’s near your house, basket filled high with snacks and drinks for your afternoon of soaking up the sun when you realised how much crap you’d both picked up so you dragged him back to the front of the shop.

‘I think we should get some fruit Mase. What do you fancy?’ You asked, hearing him groan at the thought of something healthy.

His eyes scanned over the shelves, seemingly disinterested until his eyes lit up when they landed on what he wanted. A cheeky smirk on his face as he bought his lips to your ear and his hand that was perched on your shoulder suddenly moved down carefully to the back of your arm.

‘How about some cherries?’ He whispered, a shiver rolling down your spine at his words as his thumb lightly stroked over one particular spot. Sometimes you thought he could point out where the tiny drawing was in the dark but you suppose it helped with him having the same thing in the same place on his own body.

You laughed, picking up the box before turning to him. You knew you were blushing by the way he was looking at you and even though you were in a public place where people knew exactly who he was, you let him dip his head down to kiss you sweetly.

Matching tattoos was something you’d never thought about until that fateful night in Portland a few years ago. You hadn’t been seeing Mason that long in the grand scheme of things, the pair of you meeting when he’d accidentally stolen your taxi but since you were both going the same way you decided to share. it was very unlike you but you gave him your number when you’d both arrived at your destination, him asking to see you again and you were too blinded by his smile to disagree.

You both told each other you weren’t looking for anything too serious, but that was out the window by day three. Not able to keep away from each other for too long and you loved getting to know every inch of him. You weren’t official but you knew it was coming soon, so when he invited you away for a long weekend with some of his friends and their girlfriends you jumped at the chance.

You figured Portland was an odd choice, but after Mason explained it was out the way and hopefully they could keep a low profile you understood why and couldn’t wait to go. You’d never done anything this exciting before and the fact you got to do it with Mason made the whole trip even better.

You and Mason were sharing the loft room of the huge house you’d all rented and were using the fact that no one could hear you from all there way up their to your advantage. You couldn’t keep your hands off of each other and most nights it felt like you barely slept but on the last night things had taken a weird turn when you’d gone out for some some celebratory drinks before heading home the next afternoon.

Reece’s idea of going to bar for ‘a few’ had turned into a mini bar crawl and whilst on your way to your fourth at nearly 3am, Ben had spotted a tattoo shop tucked away in a alley next to where you were just about to enter.

‘We should so get tattoos together’ he exclaimed, throwing an arm around Masons shoulder as he pulled his date along by the hand.

‘Is that not a bit weird?’ Mason laughed, dragging you through the door and into a small booth at the back. The bar wasn’t overly loud or crowded but the boys always liked the space since they never knew who was around and you liked how they could just be themselves for a bit without constantly watching over their shoulder.

‘They don’t have to be matching, just something to remember the weekend by’ he told you all and even though everyone else seemed on board, Mason looked at you with curious eyes. Unsure of if it was something you’d be up for but you just smiled at him before giving your drink order to Ben who’s round it was.

You never seen Mason this drunk before. Not that he was hammered by any stretch of the imagination, but his little tipsy smile and soft bleary eyes were pulling at your heart strings and you couldn’t help but lean over and kiss him.

‘You two need to learn to keep your hands off each other’ Ben laughed as he made his way back, drinks for everyone and a shot as extra but Mason just pushed his shot to you.

‘Mase? Don’t you want it?’

‘I’ve had enough. You have it’ he smiled

‘Why won’t you drink with me?’ You pouted and even though you’d just been told off for not keeping your lips to yourself he lent back in to kiss you quickly.

‘It doesn’t matter. you’re having a good time right?’ He asked and you nodded at him enthusiastically. ‘Look I would, I just know there’s a long walk home. I want at least one of us to have their wits about them and I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you just because I didn’t know my limit’ he told you softly, feeling your heart thump at sweet words. Thinking about your safety when it had completely gone over the top of your head to think about anything else but what was happening in the moment.

The others had abandoned you at the table now, Mason pulling you in closer so he could kiss you again and you let him. Cupping his jaw to keep him close as his kisses were more addictive tonight and you didn’t want to be away from him. You weren’t too sure of it was the alcohol making the pair of you a bit more carefree but it’s like you didn’t care who could be watching you, you just wanted to be close.

His kisses were slow and sexy, pulling a content hum from you as he continually brushed he tongue against yours. His hands were planted on your waist as he carefully skimmed his thumbs across your skin, feeling his gentle touches through your clothes and you shivered at the intimacy of it all. You’d never kissed anyone how Mason kissed you, real kisses that made your head spin and when he bit your lip you had to stop yourself from moaning too loud. You could of kissed him forever but the sound of Reece’s laugh pulled you apart from each other.

‘You two coming?’ You suddenly heard behind you, turning to see Reece and his girlfriend looking at you with giant smiles. You’d wondered if time had suddenly passed by really quickly but a short glance at the clock behind the bar showed you’d only been here around 15 minutes or so.

‘Where?’ Mason asked as Reece began to walk away but he quickly stepped back so you could hear him.

‘Bens convinced us to get tattoos so we’re heading out. You coming?’

‘We’ll meet you in there’ Mason told him before they swayed out, holding onto each other for dear life as their legs struggled to carry them away. ‘We don’t have to, not if you don’t want to’ he said seriously.

‘Fuck it’ you laughed, downing the rest of your drink and pecking his lips again before grabbing your bag. ‘Whatever, let’s do it’

‘Promise me you’re sure’ he laughed, turning your face to him and you gave him what you thought was a reassuring smile but the alcohol pumping through you right now meant it could of looked like anything.

‘Promise. Now come on, they’re waiting’

You followed him inside the tattoo shop, noticing Ben already getting ready for his whilst Reece stood looking at the wall, trying to pick something to add to his collection. You were all going small, something silly and random but all the designs were starting to overwhelm you and you were glad you had Mason behind you for support.

‘What you thinking?’ Mason asked after a while, his chin resting in your shoulder as he held you by your waist.

‘I’m not sure, I don’t want it to be too random’ you told him, but he wasn’t listening fully. His lips on your neck placing wet open mouthed kisses that were making your tummy flutter. ‘Come on Mase, help’ you laughed, tapping his hand and he smiled into your neck before his eyes glanced back up at the wall. ‘What are you getting?’

‘I was thinking the little cherries’ he told you, nodding to the small drawing and you fell in love with them instantly.

‘Why the cherries?’

‘Cause it reminds me of the cherry earrings you’ve got in. I think they’re my favourite’ he whispered in your ear, referencing the small cherry shaped studs you’d bought in duty free on the way over and you followed his eye line to the tiny cherry symbol on the wall so you could take another look. ‘Why don’t you get it too?’

‘What, like matching with you?’

‘Yeah, I don’t see why not?’ he told you, turning your head to look up at him and he was looking back at you with a wide grin, pulling you closer to his body as he let out a little chuckle.

‘Are you sure you’re okay with the same though?’

‘Of course’

‘But what if…’ you started to ask, gulping down a nervous lump as your words trailed off. You looked down at his chest but his lips on your forehead settled you as he began to sway you from side to side softly.

‘Not gonna happen’ he spoke against your hairline quietly, making you smile that he seemed you know what you were thinking before you’d even said it. ‘And even if it does, then we’ll always be connected’ he laughed before making you look at him. ‘How I feel about you, I could never feel this way about anyone else. Known if from the moment I saw you naked’ he teased and you tapped his chest playfully. ‘If it’s too much or too soon I can pick something else’

‘No’ you smiled, shaking your before kissing him softly. ‘I think it’s cute. Let’s do it’ you told him, letting him know you were happy with your choices before you changed your mind. You knew it was crazy, you weren’t even his girlfriend officially but the thought of having tiny matching tattoos with him was an offer you couldn’t pass up.

Mason did all the talking, even offering to go first as you weren’t quite comfortable yet and you held his hand as the artist started, choosing to get it done on the back of his arm so it would be less seen. He didn’t need to as he was wearing a short sleeved top but you didn’t complain when he took it off, letting you stand and look over his perfect torso as he looked at you cheekily.

Mason eventually pulled you in between his legs so he could kiss you after a minute or so and the tattoo didn’t take much longer than that with with being so small. He hadn’t even flinched the whole time and you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or if he just had a high pain threshold but it was sexy as hell and you knew you were giving him your come to bed eyes. You were just hoping he could see it through all the alcohol clouding your vision.

‘Last chance to back out’ he laughed as the man wrapped him up but you shook your head, determined to go through with it just as Mason had. Mason carefully helped you up onto seat where he had just been and he held onto your thigh with one hand whilst linking your fingers with the others.

‘Where would you like it?’ The artist asked and you pointed to the same place Mason had his, feeling Masons chest rumble before he placed a kiss to your cheek.

‘You guys are cute’ your artist laughed, getting settled behind you and you felt Mason squeeze your hand. ‘How long have you been together?’

‘Its funny you should ask that, It’s our four year anniversary tomorrow’ Mason chirped and you almost choked on your own breath as Mason winked at you. ‘Think it’s about time I popped the question soon huh?’

‘I mean I think I’ve waited long enough’ you replied, watching his face lighten at the fact you were going along with his silly drunken joke.

‘We pretty much know how we want the wedding to be though, don’t we babe’ he smiled and your tummy flipped at the pet name, not one he’d used on you before.

‘We sure do. Private ceremony with all our family and closest friends’

‘And then a massive party afterwards for everyone with an open bar’

‘And I’ve love a chocolate fountain’

‘And personalised cocktails. One for each of us’

‘In the evenings we’ll let everyone set off a lantern just like in tangled’

‘I definitely want our dog to be the ring barer and wear a little suit’

‘And Summer can be my bridesmaid, Mila too if she’s old enough by then’ you laughed and his whole face changed into the most loving look you’d ever seen him give you.

‘I’d love that so much’ he whispered, his drunken eyes getting a little glassy and you reached up with you free hand to cup his jaw. Kissing the tip of his nose to hopefully make him smile and lucky for you it worked.

‘Right, you’re all done’ you suddenly heard, not feeling a thing as Mason had distracted you the whole way through and you laughed as you caught sight of it in the mirror before you were all wrapped up.

Mason refused to let you pay for yours, calling it an early engagement present which no one else seemed to understand but you didn’t care. You were in your own little bubble with him and the fact you had this weird private joke going on now made you even happier.

You all compared tattoos on the way home, the others going for smiley faces or stars and they were all pretty shocked when you revealed that yours and Masons were matching but the six of you ended up in a fit of giggles when it finally hit you what you’d all done.

By the time your head hit the pillow, you were too far gone to be intimate in anyway with the man next to you so you curled up into his chest and fell asleep to the soft feeling of his fingers dancing over your back.

The next morning you didn’t want to move in fear of your brain possibly falling out of your head as it was thumping so hard. You turned to look at Mason though, still asleep beside you but he was turned with his back facing you and the first thing you saw was the two little cherries that now sat proudly on the back of his arm.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the realisation that the pair of you were now bound by a piece of fruit that was permanently etched onto your skin was funnier than it should of been and Mason eventually turned to give you a confused look.

‘You alright there?’ He smiked, pulling you flush against him and you nodded into his neck, trying to calm yourself so you could form a coherent sentence. ‘Hey, what’s so funny?’

‘Why the fuck did we get matching cherry tattoos last night?’

‘It seemed romantic at the time’ he shrugged, the smile in his voice evident but you felt it against your skin when he kissed your forehead. ‘Why, do you regret it?’

‘Not even a little bit’ you whispered, kissing his chest as you felt him relax.

‘Well thank god for that. Would of been difficult to explain to my dad that I need a tattoo removal booked in for me and my girlfriend’

‘What?’ You breathed, pulling back to look at him properly and he was giving you shy smile.

‘Well, I don’t know about you but I don’t get matching tattoos with just anybody. Figured the girl i love could do with an updated title’

‘Are you love bombing me?’ You laughed, shuffling up carefully so you were now eye level and even in his hungover state you could of sworn you’d never seen anyway look better.

‘I’m just letting you know how I feel’ he smiled but you saw his face faulted ever so slightly. ‘Thought it might of been the alcohol making me feel things last night but I still feel the same now. Why is it too much?’

‘Not at all. For the record I was hoping the boy I loved might ask me to be his girlfriend soon’

‘Oh yeah?’ He laughed, hiding his face in the pillow before peering back at you through one eye. ‘You should tell him to hurry up’

‘Nah, I’ve got you now. He can wait’ you teased, both laughing as you held onto each other. ‘Although if you make me wait four years before you propose I’m off’ you winked before leaning down to kiss him gently. ‘I mean it though, I love you’

‘I love you, too’ he smiled, pushing your head down lightly so you’d kiss him again and you shivered as you felt him lightly brush over the small tattoo as he smiled into your mouth. ‘Maybe that can be my name for you. My little cherry’ he laughed before his hand travelled down to your bum to give it a gentle squeeze.

‘I guess it’s lucky I didn’t get the banana earrings. I don’t think that would work the same’ you told him and he laughed loudly as he pulled you on top of his body.

‘No but you can call me that if you like’ he winked, tickling your sides as you buried your head in his neck. ‘It’s not little though’

‘No, Mase. You have a very big banana’ you reassured him with a roll of your eyes and he tickled your sides gently as you felt him press his hips up into you.

‘You don’t sound convinced, maybe I should remind you’ he whispered in your ear before rolling you onto your back, your finger absentmindedly tracing the new tattoo on his arm as a warm feeling rushed throughout your body. Mason was yours, and in your gut you knew this could be a forever thing. Your matching tattoos only making everything feel more real.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed :) I’d love to know what you thought so please feel free to comment or drop me an ask, l'd really appreciate it, much love 💕

[filmbyjy]

COLLIE DUTY

SYNOPSIS > being the new CEO to the ‘Sim Corp’ was hard and stressful. jake didn’t have much time to spend with layla and so he decides to get a dogsitter, you. though, you were originally already his secretary. how will dog sitting bring you two closer?

THIRTY - layla the puptress

WARNINGS: none :D just Layla being a good girl🥹

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

Why were you so nervous?

Your hands trembled as you scanned through the most appropriate outfit you could find to just ‘casually’ hang out with jake. Which was weird to say considering he is still your boss.

Oh god, he’s still your boss…This was so wrong!

Maybe it was because you two almost kissed which made you forget he was your boss. Either ways, this wasn’t right but Jake was expecting you so you had to go over. As per usual, you made your way past the community gate and parked right outside of Jake’s house. Mrs.Matilda wasn’t at the porch so you assumed she must be having her afternoon nap.

You could feel the way your hands were starting to sweat. The nerves getting to you the closer you stepped onto Jake’s porch. You clicked on the doorbell. You nearly winced at the loud (fancy high end) doorbell he had, like a complete horror movie kind.

The black haired boy opens the door, a cute smile adorning his face. As he was about to say something, Layla perches at your legs and tries to somehow climb at you. Which was impossible considering how big of a dog she was.

“Layla, (name) is our guest. We don’t climb our guests.” Jake warns the puppy. The small whimpers Layla gave out was obviously hurting Jake’s heart so he gives a small ruffle to her fur and turns to look at you.

“Sorry, she’s umm…really excited to see you.” He says as he scratches his nape in shyness/awkwardness.

“is Layla excited to see me or are you excited to see me?”

“umm…both? god, I’m sorry.” Jake groans.

you chuckled, “it’s fine. this is our first time actually hanging out causally. usually, I would be over to puppy-sit Layla.”

“oh, right. wanna order something to eat? unfortunately, as you know…from jay, that I have zero idea how to cook.”

“sure, why not.”

This was very awkward…

You were sure Layla could feel how awkward it was because she started getting a little rowdy. Just as you sat down, she jumps onto your lap and starts licking your face.

“Layla.” Jake warns her a little. The puppy doesn’t stop until you were smiling genuinely. Jake pats the empty spot beside him to get Layla to sit next to him but she doesn’t listen.

She only whimpers trying hard to get you to feel comfortable. Ah if only she understood how hard it was to act around your boss who you were pretty sure knew about your crush on him. Maybe she knows.

“I’m sorry about her, I have zero clue why she’s acting this way. She usually listens to me very well.” Jake apologises.

“it’s alright.” You held Layla close and hugged her. She calms down a little. Her heavy breathing dies down due to her excitement. “She’s just really good at reading emotions sometimes.”

Jake tilts his head. He didn’t understand what you meant but it’s fine. Maybe when the time comes. For now, he could only hope for you to actually notice him making a move.

Or was it too quick? Was he moving too fast? Oh god.

Jake was internally panicking. Why was he so nervous around you? You were his secretary for 4 years now, he shouldn’t feel scared or nervous. It’s not like you were going to bite him.

Just as jake opens his mouth to utter something, his phone rings. He looks at you apologetically and goes to answer the call. You were waiting for him. It took longer than you expected and so curiously got to the best of you.

“Dad, no. I am not marrying her. She’s not the woman I like. What? What do you mean, I have no choice? That doesn’t make any sense. Yeah, I am growing old but I want to find a woman I like to marry. Not be arranged to marry.”

You felt sad. Well not for yourself but for jake. Why is it that rich young people always have to be arranged for marriage. You couldn’t help but wonder. The way jake paced back and forth while on the call with his dad only led you to do one thing…

“baby?” you called out. Jake turns around in shock. “you were taking too long, even Layla was getting riled up.”

You looked down at Layla and she seemed to get the note. She whimpers a little at jake. Her tail drooping and wagging slowly. “You said you would take 5 minutes…it’s been almost 15 minutes. I was worried sick.” You jutted out your lower lips, giving Jake a small pout.

Jake was frozen, he couldn’t say a single word. All he heard was his dad blasting him questions and demanded answers. However, that went a complete blur since his brain sort of short circuited.

Did you just call him baby?

“Sim Jaeyun.” His dad on the call says in a stern voice. Jake finally gets back from his little moment. He felt his face heat up.

“yes, dad?”

“who was that?”

“umm.”

“don’t ‘umm’ me. was that a girl? or more specific, was that your girlfriend?”

“well…she’s umm…” Jake looks up at you. “yeah…”

“shes my girlfriend.”

a/n: OOOOOOOOOO THE SPICE🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻

taglist[open]: @svarcq @wooonkies @ajayke-reads @peachysunooooo @xiaoderrrr @viagumi @lunakua @bubblytaetae @aureliaxuuu @nikiluvr16 @sngvhs @watermelon-sugars-things @bldelaine @enhaz1 @yeoungie @heart4hees @mimimovv @enczen @enhastolemyheart @woon2u @kyanmeai @4townn @skzenhalove @s00buwu @ce1ight @markleepooh @sparklingsjy @rizzshimura @bluxjun @beomgyusonlywife @jyndre @blamemef0rit @fanfangying1304 @kwiwin @heart4hees @luxurystark-jackson @yunjardi @ioszzn @mrowwww @hyhees @25dejulho @neoculturewhat @wtfhyuck @dianzed @143lele @ajybeo @teddywonss @nyfwyeonjun @alwayswook @shinrjj @manooffline @heavenhannie @bmnyy17 @jayujus