#ready to settle into some other prompts finally

[rafecameronssl4t]

For high maintenance reader! Can you write a prompt where they’re all talking to rafes friends at the country club or some party and they make some plans with rafe but reader gives him her signature look like raised eyebrow look and rafe just folds and is like ummm yeh I mean I can’t do that night or quietly asks reader if he can go just pussy whipped rafe

Whipped || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

MASTERLIST

Rafe, always the center of attention, animatedly discussed plans for a guys’ hangout on Friday night out on the porch. “C’mon, Rafe, you have to come! It’ll be fun,” one of his friends insisted, grinning broadly as Rafe leaned against the railing. Inside, on one of the country club’s sofas nearest the door to the porch, you could practically hear every word.

Friday nights were usually spent at either your place or Rafe’s, watching movies or simply enjoying each other’s company—a cherished ritual. Catching Sarah’s eye, you exchanged a knowing glance, a pang of annoyance hitting you at the thought of those plans changing.

Rafe, sensing your gaze, hesitated before speaking up. “Ummm, yeah, I mean… I can’t do that night,” he stammered, his confident demeanor crumbling momentarily. You raised an eyebrow at him, giving him a look he knew all too well.

You watch him intently as he continues talking with his friends, knowing he is fully aware of your gaze. Every now and then, his eyes flicker over to you, a subtle acknowledgment that doesn’t go unnoticed. “Why not, man?” one of them questions in surprise, their voices mingling with the background hum of the country club.

Rafe shifted uncomfortably, meeting your eyes briefly before turning back to his friends. “I, uh, have other plans—with Y/n,” he finally said, a satisfied smile spreading across your face as you returned to your conversation, triumph settling in your chest.

A few minutes later, while carefully applying another coat of lip gloss, you feel the couch dip beside you. The familiar scent of Rafe’s cologne reaches your nose, confirming his presence before you even look. He sidles up close, arm resting behind you as his his voice dropping to a whisper. “Can I go?” he asks, his usual bravado completely absent, his thumb rubbing absent minded circles in your shoulder.

You take a moment to look at him, your eyes scanning his face. His expression is earnest, almost pleading. With a soft sigh, you lightly roll your eyes and return to your lip gloss. “Fine. But don’t make a habit of it,” you mumble, crossing your legs at the knees in a gesture of mild annoyance.

Rafe’s face lights up with relief, a grateful smile spreading across his lips. “Thanks,” he mutters, glancing back out to the porch where his friends are waiting. He stands up, ready to leave, but then hesitates. Leaning down, he aims to kiss your lips, but you stop him with a tap of your heeled foot against his inner leg.

“Baby, I just put on a new coat,” you sigh, leaning away and turning your head slightly, still a bit annoyed. Rafe lets out a sigh of his own, his eyes filled with a mix of apology and affection. “My bad,” he says quickly. He then gently kisses your cheek, his lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary, before straightening up and heading out to join his friends. As you watch him go, a small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, your annoyance melting away.

[etherealyoungk]

new beginnings - jeon wonwoo

summary: in which a certain someone starts getting extra clingy to you, leading you to find out you're pregnant.

pairing: husband!wonwoo x fem!reader

themes: established relationship, terms of endearment, pregnancy, fluffy, comfort

warnings: reader is pregnant, mentions of nausea, throwing up, anxiety, vague mentions of intimate relations, cats

wordcount: 2.1 k

a/n: just a random idea i had and thought might be cute

you come home a bit later than usual, the smell of something delicious wafting in the air, welcoming you as you step inside your cozy home. you walk in and spot wonwoo in the kitchen, busy stirring something in a pot as you discard your bag on the couch, spotting oreo, wonwoo's cat curled up on the other end in a peaceful slumber.

you slowly make your way towards wonwoo. "hey", you say, as you stand next to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. "hi love", he responds immediatily as he presses a soft kiss to your temple as you nod. "long day?", he asks, taking in your tired expression as you nod your head.

"you're home early", you point out, as you hook your arm around his, watching him stir the pot of soup carefully so that the ingredients wouldn't stick to the bottom and burn.

"yeah, i wanted to surprise you", he says, looking at you. you smile at his words and he smiles back at you. you let go of his arm and busy yourself with setting up the table. you and wonwoo had sweet love story and were now living a happy married life, and you couldn't ask for anyone else to spend it with. wonwoo was just your person and you were his.

but wonwoo's cat on the other hand was another story. you could say that she didn't really have a thing for you. oreo had never bonded with you, and you were only allowed to give her the occasional pet before she'd walk off, uninterested in you. orea never got cuddly with you like she did with wonwoo. you were bummed at first but you decided that maybe she'd grow into you later it. but it looked like you were just going to be a side character to her.

wonwoo asks you about your day as you both eat, but he's also acutely aware of how little food you've served yourself and how you've barely touched the soup he made. "not hungry?", he prompts after a while. "i am, i'm just a little tired", you tell, feeling a bit bad because wonwoo had made your favorite soup and you barely felt like eating it. you force yourself to have at least a few spoonfuls of the spoon and finish up your rice.

it's two am and you wake up feeling nauseous so you sit up, hoping that would ease the feeling but it didn't. it was like wonwoo was so in tune with you that he could always tell when you're awake and you heard him stir beside you. "are you okay love?", he asks, his voice laced with sleep.

"just a little nauseous", you tell softly, feeling umcomfortable.

"should i make you some peppermint tea?", he asks, now sitting up beside you. he doesn't wait for your answer as he heads to the kitchen to make it for you regardless. he comes up and places the steaming mug of peppermint tea on your bedside table, as he sits down next to you. his hand finds yours as he laces his fingers in your hand, looking at you, worried. after a few sips of the tea, you feel slightly better and you're now cuddled in wonwoo's arms as you lay your head on his chest, his hands holding you safe from the world.

you feel the bed dip again as oreo, wonwoo's cat jumps on the bed, walking towards you both. you look at her, ready for her to go towards wonwoo but instead, she comes up to you and settles next to you. "baby are you seeing this", you tell, shocked. "looks like she's finally warming up to you", he jokes and it was like oreo understood and she meows as she looks at you before curling up beside you.

you fall asleep only to wake up an hour late as you rush into the bathroom and throw up, feeling horrible and absolutely terrible. you feel wonwoo's hand on your back a few moments later as he rubs it gently to help you. he then helps you up and you clean yourself up before he helps you back in bed.

that whole week, you battle with nausea, throwing up either in the morning or night, and feeling tired and fatigued all of a sudden. you try to brush it off, blaming it on the stress or just the flu, but wonwoo insists on going to the doctor to figure out what is going on.

you take a sick leave the next day and you're sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone when oreo comes up to you again, sitting on your stomach, giving you a little meow as she closes her eyes and goes into her meditation. you smile, feeling like you were being blessed by her presence lately. she'd started to get cuddly with you the past week and you were surprised but happy because otherwise you were going to think she was going to hate you forever.

you're aimlessly scrolling through your phone when you come across a video of a cat sitting on a lady, much like how oreo was sitting on you and as the video goes on, the lady explains how she found out she was pregnant because her cat started to get extra cuddly with her. your brain pauses and you glance at oreo, who's in a peaceful slumber on your stomach. you quickly open google, typing in if cats can tell if a person is pregnant and you gulp as you read articles and information that shows up and things slowly start adding up in your mind. this would explain all the nausea, the weird mood swings you've been having and the fatigue you've been experiencing the past two weeks. oh my god.

you gently move oreo off you, apologising to her as you grab a coat and slip on your shoes, heading to the nearest pharmacy to buy a pregnancy test. you buy two to give yourself the benefit of the doubt and now you're in your bathroom as you wait for the results of pregnancy tests. you stand a few steps back, nervous to see the results.

sure, you and wonwoo had talked about having kids of your own and it was something you both did want. you both had also taken care and been careful whenever you were intimate with each other. but now as you stand in the bathroom all alone, a feeling of dread engulfs you and pools in your stomach. you move towards the countertop and look at yourself in the mirror. it was going to be okay you thought ou close your eyes and take a deep breath and you finally find the courage to look down at the pregnancy tests laid out in front of you. you blink down as you see two lines on them bioth and let out a shaky breath as you try to ground yourself.

you didn't tell wonwoo that evening, still trying to take everything in but mostly because you didn't know how to. you were unsure and scared. but when he comes home tonight, you can't seem to hold onto this secret anymore as it seems to be eating you alive. when he comes home later that evening, you're quick to greet him as he shrugs off his blazer, his eyes lighting up when he sees you. you give him a kiss as you ask him about his day. he walks into the bedroom to change and you follow him. "what's going on in that pretty little mind of yours", he asks as he loosens his tie and takes off his watch. "how do you know something is going on?", you ask. "because you only follow me around when you have something you want to get off your chest", he tells, coming towards you. you find it sweet that he's picked up on his piece of information and observed, he knew you too well.

"okay fine, i do have something to tell you", you say finally as you move closer to wonwoo. you look up at him and he patiently waits for you to speak. but as you're looking at him and trying to find the right words and how to get them out, you find yourself getting overwhelmed with emotion all of a sudden and you're tearing up. your gaze flickers to the side of the room and down before you look back up but wonwoo is keen to pick up on his.

"what's wrong sweetheart?", he asks as you try with all your might to hold the tears in, trying to blink back your tears, but you can't and they flow down your cheeks and before you know it you're crying. wonwoo pulls you into his arms, his hand running up and down your back softly in an attempt to soothe you. "did something happen?", he asks, worried as his gaze softens.

you sniffle as you look at him, still in his arms. "no- i-i- don't know why i'm crying god i feel like an idiot", you tell as wonwoo cups your face, gently wiping away your tears with his thumb. "you're not", he assures you and he holds your gaze as he looks at you sweetly, not forcing you to say anything.

he gently moves you to the bedside and sits you down looking at you deeply, a hit of worry laced in his gaze. you'd been off this entire week and he was worried.

"are you okay?", he asks again, gently as he looks at you, his hand intertwined in yours.

"i-im pregnant", you finally tell softly and in the quiet room it was like your words echoed in the air. wonwoo blinks at you and you can see the wave of emotion he goes through.

"i took a pregnancy test, two in fact and they both came back positive", you add, looking at wonwoo to see his reaction.

"you're pregnant", he repeats like he was testing how the words would sound on his lips. "we're pregnant", he says again and you nod.

"i'm pregnant", you tell, tearing up again. "we're pregnant", you say again.

you find yourself tearing up again and wonwoo cups your cheek. "but what if i'm not ready, i'm scared", you add softly and wonwoo is quick to embrace you in another hug.

"i think, no i know that you're going to be a great mother love", he tells. "and remember, you're not alone in this, i'm right here and i'll be here with you every step of the way", he adds as he hugs you tighter.

you pull away, looking at him and you smile. "i love you", you say. " i love you more", he says, making you smile.

"i can't believe we're going to be parents", he says in a soft excitement as he kisses your forehead.

"you know, oreo was the first one to know", you say and he furrows his brows in confusion.

"what do you mean?", he asks, his hands resting on waist. "that's why she's been so clingy and cuddly to me these last two weeks. she knew i was pregnant, cats can sense it", you explain and his interest is piqued by this piece of information. "should we make a bet on if oreo's going to befriend our kid or not", he says and you snort, chuckling at his suggestion. god how you loved him and his silly antics. "i'm gonna bet she will befriend him, she already has technically", you add before leaning in wonwoo's chest again.

-bonus scene-

you're laying on the couch, now six months along your pregnancy and your bump is growing healthily. wonwoo's been so sweet and supportive throughout it all, from helping you when you were puking your guts out from morning sickness to getting you all your pregnancy cravings even if they were weird.

you hear the door open, wonwoo walking in with takeaway from your favourite cafe because you were craving a red velvet cake. he triumphantly lifts the bag as he walks in, putting it down on the table as he sees oreo perched on your belly.

"i think out kid is going to be a cat lover", wonwoo says. "imagine if they're not", you add as wonwoo hands you the cake box and you take it, the sweet smell already filling the air. you take a bit and sigh, content and offer wonwoo a bite.

just then you feel the baby kick and oreo looks alert, wondering where the little movement came from as she looks around and looks at you with a questioning look. "baby, did you see that?", you ask. the baby kicks again and oreo looks around again and glances at your belly before meowing at you and you chuckle. "aww she felt the kick", you tell. wonwoo smiles as he looks at you, his heart overflowing with love as he thinks about how lucky he is and how grateful he is

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[pickingupmymercedes]

Firsts pt.1 - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)

Some firsts, like Small firsts, only NSFW version - pt1 / pt2 /

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: unprotected sexual activities, like all sorts.

Also, wrap it before you tap it

wordcount: +4K

a/n: This is part 1, to possibly a 4 part thing. It ran from me and it was getting huge.

a/n 2: Loved all the prompts, thank you for everyone who sent them.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

First time without worrying about protection

"Do you think it’s a good time?" Y/n asked, her voice soft as she looked over at Lewis. The question had been lingering in her mind, and she could tell it was on his too, ever since she told him she wouldn’t be putting another IUD in for a while.

They had spent the day surrounded by Lewis's family—his niece and nephew running around, his mum laughing, the warmth of family life filling every corner of the house. It had been perfect. But it had also stirred something in them, something she couldn't ignore any longer.

Lewis was quiet for a moment, his eyes focused on the road ahead, but she could see the wheels turning in his head. “I’ve been thinking about that too” he admitted, his voice thoughtful. “With you not on any birth control, I mean. It feels like… maybe it’s the sign we’ve been looking for.”

Y/n nodded, the warmth of the sun shining through the window matching the warmth she felt at his words. “It’s been on my mind all day… seeing you with your family… it made me realize how much I want that for us.”

Lewis glanced over at her, his expression thoughtful, but a hint of hesitation in his eyes. “That’s all I’ve always wanted.” he said softly, keeping his eyes on the road. “But…”

"But you're not sure it’s the right time," she finished for him, her voice understanding.

He nodded, his grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly. “It’s not that I don’t want that with you. I do. More than anything. Our own pack running ramped. But with racing… What if I’m not there enough? What if I miss out? What if you’re left to deal with too much?”

Y/n reached over, placing her hand on his, her touch gentle but firm. “I get it, Lew. I really do. And I love how much you care about being there, about being a good father.” She sighted before continuing “I think the decision to not get another iud made me realize how much I actually want this. Our own family.”

He was quiet for a moment, processing her words. The sound of the tires on the road was the only noise as they both let the weight of the conversation settle in.

“You really think we’re ready?” Lewis finally said, his voice low but not lacking conviction at all.

“Yeah” she said after she reached for his hand with both of hers. “We don’t have to rush it, though… let’s see where life takes us. No pressure, no expectations. If it happens, it happens.”

Lewis turned to look at her as they stopped at a red light, his eyes searching hers. “You’re really sure about this?”

“I am” she replied, her voice steady now. “I’m ready to start our family.”

The light turned green, but Lewis didn’t move immediately. He leaned over, pressing a kiss to her hand still resting on his. “Okay,” he said softly. “Let’s see what happens. No more protection, no more overthinking. We’ll take this time and just… let it be.”.”

The rest of the drive was filled with a comfortable silence, their decision bringing a new sense of anticipation between them. When they got home, the atmosphere was charged with an unspoken understanding. But instead of immediately acting on their decision, they spent the rest of the evening wrapped up in each other’s company, the weight of their choice lingering in the background.

The next day, Y/n noticed Lewis watching her more closely than usual. His eyes seemed to follow her every move, lingering on the curve of her hips, the way her body swayed as she walked. It was as if he was seeing her in a new light, imagining her with their child, and it made his heart race.

That evening, as she was getting ready for bed, Y/n caught him staring at her in the bathroom mirror. She raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “You’ve been staring at me all day, Mr. Hamilton. What’s on your mind?”

Lewis smiled, his eyes darkening with desire as he stepped closer. “I couldn’t help it. I’ve been thinking about you… about us. About you carrying our child.”

Her smirk softened into a tender smile as she turned to face him. “And what exactly have you been thinking?”

Instead of answering, Lewis closed the distance between them, his hands sliding around her waist as he pulled her close. His lips found hers in a kiss that was slow, deep, and full of unspoken promises. The need in him was palpable, and Y/n felt it too, a longing that had been building since their conversation the day before.

Without breaking the kiss, Lewis guided her back to the bedroom, his touch gentle but insistent, their clothes discarded piece by piece along the way, until they were finally pressed together, skin to skin, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the room.

When they reached the bed, he paused, looking into her eyes as if asking for permission. Y/n gave a slight nod, her breath hitching in anticipation.

They fell onto the bed together, their movements slow and deliberate. Lewis’s hands caressed her body, his touch familiar and tender, but with a new depth, a new meaning behind it. They were no longer just making love—they were creating something, laying the foundation for the future they both wanted so desperately.

Lewis took his time, kissing every inch of her skin, his lips lingering on the spots he knew made her shiver. “I love you,” he murmured against her collarbone, his voice thick with emotion.

“I love you” Y/n replied, her fingers threading through his hair as he moved lower, worshipping her with every touch.

When he finally entered her, it was with a reverence that took her breath away. He moved slowly, their bodies perfectly in sync, their rhythm a witness to the years they had spent together.

Each thrust a promise, each sigh of their shared dreams they were finally taking the step towards.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” Lewis whispered, his voice strained with the effort of holding back.

“It’s perfect,” Y/n replied, her eyes meeting his, her hands gripping his shoulders as he moved within her. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

He didn’t. He kept going, his pace steady, his focus entirely on her. The softness of their lovemaking was intoxicating, the connection between them deeper than ever. Y/n felt herself unraveling, the pleasure building slowly, spreading through her body in waves.

He made love to her like his life depended on it, every touch, every kiss, every movement filled with an intensity that left her breathless.

“Lew…” Y/n whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

“I know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear as he buried himself deep inside her, his body trembling. “I can’t stop thinking about it. About you… full of me.”

“You’re so beautiful,” Lewis breathed close to her ear when she hissed at how deep his thrusts were, his lips brushing against her skin as he continued to move. “I can’t believe how lucky I am. I’ll get to see you with our child”

“We both are” she whispered back, her voice trembling with emotion. “And we’re going to be even luckier… soon.”

Her words seemed to spur him on, his thrusts becoming slightly more urgent, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to keep his control. But this wasn’t about rushing to the finish—it was about savoring every moment, every touch, every look.

Y/n’s hands slid down to his back, her nails lightly dragging across his skin, urging him closer, deeper. The pressure was building within her, and she knew she was close.

“Lew…” she breathed, her voice hitching with the effort of holding back. “I’m so close…”

“Yeah?!” he whispered; his voice raw with need. “Let go, baby. Let go with me.”

And she did. With a soft cry, she let the pleasure wash over her, her body trembling as she came apart in his arms. Lewis followed a few thrusts later, his own release shuddering through him as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, their bodies entwined, their breaths mingling as they rode out the waves together.

When it was over, they lay there, still tangled in each other, the room filled with the soft sounds of their breathing. Lewis lifted his head to look at her, a lazy, satisfied smile on his lips.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft.

“More than okay,” Y/n replied, a matching smile spreading across her face

Lewis chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You know, I might just stay like this a bit longer. Just making sure it sticks.”

Y/n laughed, a warm, genuine sound that filled the room. “Yeah? You’re really committed, aren’t you?”

“Yap” he said, settling back down and giving her nose a light kiss. “I’ve always been a fan of thoroughness.”

“Looks like I’ve got the right man for the job then” she teased, her eyes twinkling with affection.

Lewis grinned, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “All part of the plan. I want to make sure every moment counts.”

First drunken sex

The warmth of the alcohol buzzed through Y/n’s veins, her thoughts pleasantly blurred, and her body humming. Everything felt heightened—every touch, every sound, every breath.

She couldn’t keep her hands off Lewis; his skin was magnetic, drawing her in closer, deeper. Her fingers, clumsy yet insistent, traced the curve of his jaw, the light stubble prickling under her touch as she pulled him closer.

“Y/n…” Lewis’s voice was soft, slurred slightly, as he tried to focus on her face. His lips were so close, but he wasn’t moving to close the distance. Not yet.

She leaned in, her breath warm and heavy with the scent of whiskey, brushing against his cheek as she whispered, “Lewis... let’s just have fun.” She giggled, the sound slightly off-balance, just like her thoughts.

He raised an eyebrow, trying to keep his footing as Y/n swayed dangerously close to tipping over. “Are you sure you’re not too drunk for this?” he asked, one hand steadying her by the waist.

She waved off his concern with a lazy hand, her other hand sliding up his chest. “Nah, I’m just… tipsy.” She grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “And very, very horny.”

Lewis chuckled, but his grip on her tightened as she nearly tripped over her own feet. “We should take it slow, love” he suggested, though the look in her eyes was making it hard to stick to his resolve.

“Slow?” She pouted, batting her lashes exaggeratedly. “But I want fast, Lew. Fast and… rough!” She tugged at his shirt, trying to pull him closer, but only managing to stumble back onto the bed, pulling him down with her.

He caught himself just in time, hovering over her as she sprawled out on the sheets, laughing at their clumsy tumble. “Okay, you’re actually going to lie down for a bit” he said, his voice tinged with amusement.

Y/n shook her head, reaching up to pull him down onto the bed with her. “Nope. No lying down. Not yet.” She giggled again, the sound more of a hiccup this time. “I’ve got plans for you, Sir.”

“Oh really?” He smirked, trying to stay composed as she tugged him closer, her breath hot against his neck.

“Uh-huh.” She nodded, her fingers working on the buttons of his shirt, though they fumbled more than they succeeded. “But you gotta let me lead, okay? You just… just follow what I say.”

Lewis chuckled, letting her work at the buttons even though it was clear she wasn’t getting anywhere fast. “And what exactly are these plans?” he asked, his voice teasing as he finally reached down to help her with his shirt.

Y/n beamed up at him, clearly pleased with herself as she finally got one button undone. “Well, first… first, we get you naked.” She giggled again, her hands moving more quickly now, though not any more successfully. “Then I get naked. And then…” She trailed off, her fingers freezing as she forgot what she was saying.

“And then?” he prompted, an amused grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he watched her try to piece together her thoughts.

She blinked up at him, her expression confused for a moment before she burst into laughter. “I forgot what comes next!” she admitted, her laughter infectious as she collapsed back onto the pillows.

Lewis shook his head, laughing along with her. “You’re really something, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah” she said, still giggling as she reached up to pull him down into a kiss. “And you love it.”

He smiled against her lips, kissing her back gently, savoring the taste of whiskey and the sweetness of her. “I do” he murmured, his resolve weakening as she deepened the kiss, her hands wandering lower, more purposeful now despite the alcohol. “But maybe we should—”

“Shhh.” She pressed a finger to his lips, her other hand slipping under his shirt to trace the lines of his muscles. “No more talking. Just… just touch me, okay?”

He groaned softly as her touch made him shutter, the alcohol amplifying every sensation. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he let her guide him, his hands following the path she set, moving over her body as she arched into him.

“That’s it,” she whispered, her voice breathy with need as she guided his hands lower, her hips rolling up to meet his touch under her lingerie. “Just like that…”

He obliged, though every so often he had to steady her as she nearly lost her balance, the room spinning slightly around them. “You’re sure about this?” he asked one last time, his voice letting through he was having a hard time containing himself.

“Positive,” she replied, her tone leaving no room for doubt. “Just… follow my lead, Lew. Just this once”

He smiled, shaking his head at her persistence, but he let her take control, his hands sliding over her body as she undressed him, their movements clumsy but full of laughter and desire. They fumbled with clothes, bumping heads and elbows.

Finally, when they were both naked, Y/n pushed him back onto the bed, straddling his hips as she looked down at him, her eyes dark with desire and a bit less alcohol then when they started.

“Now, we have fun,” she declared, her voice filled with drunken confidence as she began to move.

He groaned, his hands gripping her hips to steady her as she set the pace. Her movements were a little too fast, a little too unsteady.

“Babe. Slow.” he muttered, though he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face as he followed her lead.

“Ops, sorry.” she replied laughing, breathless as she moved against him, her laughter turning into gasps of pleasure as they found a slower rhythm, their bodies moving together in a drunken dance that was both chaotic and perfect in its own way.

Her unsteady pace and fervor kept pushing him closer to the edge far too quickly. He felt the familiar tightening in his lower belly, the building pressure that signaled he was about to lose control. “Y/n, I’m—” he tried to warn her, but she just smirked down at him, her hips grinding harder against him.

“Don’t you dare stop,” she whispered, her tone dripping with mischief as she kept moving, her own desire spurring her on.

He tried to hold back, but it was no use. With a low, desperate groan, he felt himself teetering on the brink.

Instinctively, his hand reached between them, aiming for her clit to bring her over the edge with him, but she swatted his hand away, her voice firm despite the tremor in it. “Nope. Told you, I’m in the lead.”

He could only watch as she took control, her eyes locked on his as she began to rub her own clit, her fingers moving in tight circles while she used his body to reach her pleasure.

The sight of her, the feel of her, it was too much. With a choked gasp, he came, his body shaking beneath her as she continued to ride him through it, her own gasps and moans filling the room.

She was relentless, her fingers working her clit with intensity, using every thrust and grind to push herself closer. He could do nothing but watch, his breath ragged, as she brought herself to the brink. And when she finally tumbled over, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm, the sound of his name on her lips was the sweetest thing he’d ever heard.

She finally collapsed, her body draped over his, both of them spent and breathless, their hearts racing in sync.

Y/n’s fingers traced lazy patterns on his chest, a satisfied smile playing on her lips as she nestled closer to him.

“I think… I like this tipsy me” she murmured; her voice heavy with contentment.

Lewis chuckled, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I like anything to do with you.”

First car sex

The sun had begun its descent, casting a golden glow over Malibu Beach as Lewis and his friends wrapped up their day of surfing. Y/n, along with a few others, had stayed behind, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the beach. The sandy heat was soothing, but as they finally packed up, a different kind of warmth was brewing within Lewis.

He had watched Y/n from afar, her bikini clinging to her sun-kissed skin, her laughter mingling with the salty breeze. The way the sun highlighted her curves, the way her body moved with its own rhythm—it had been almost unbearable.

He had to have her, right then, but with the beach full of people and his friends around, he’d had to keep his desire in check.

As they headed back to the jeep, Lewis couldn’t contain his excitement any longer. He took a detour, steering the vehicle away from the main road and towards a secluded overlook with a breathtaking view of the ocean.

He parked the jeep, his gaze already turning to Y/n with a smirk that promised more than just a scenic view.

“What are we doing?” Y/n asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Just thought we could take a little detour,” Lewis replied, his voice low and laden with anticipation. He looked over at her, his eyes smoldering with barely-contained desire, his hands reaching even higher on her thighs as his voice came close to her hair. “You looked incredible at the beach today. The sun glistening down on you.”

Her breath caught at his words, a thrill running through her as she realized what was about to happen. “Are you … now, for real Lew?”

He gave a mischievous grin, reaching for her hands. “If you want it too. But we’ve got to be quick and quiet.”

The back seats were folded down to fit the surfboards, leaving just enough space for them. Lewis had already laid out a towel in the middle of the boards, a makeshift bed for their impromptu encounter.

Y/n’s pulse quickened as she followed him, her eyes locking with his.

“What if we get caught?” she asked, her voice teasing but edged with anticipation as she reached for the hem of his shorts.

Lewis chuckled, his hands roaming over her body as he pulled her closer. “Then we better keep quiet.”

He kissed her deeply, his hands tracing the curve of her back as he guided her to the makeshift bed. The warmth from the sun was still on their skin, mingling with the salty residue of the ocean.

“I haven’t had sex in a car in so long,” Lewis murmured against her lips, his breath hot and heavy. “You’ve got me wanting to do the craziest things.”

Y/n’s laughter was breathless as she tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head. “I’m glad I’m the one making you feel that way.”

Lewis grinned, his hands deftly grabbing a condom from the bag on the side. He rolled it on, his gaze never leaving hers as he prepared his dick. “You ready?”

Her eyes fluttered up to his eye, a soft moan escaping her lips as she nodded. “Yes.”

He positioned himself before her, catching her arousal with the tip of his member and dragging it up and down her clit. As he entered her, he couldn’t help but groan at the sensation, the way her body wrapped around him, as he made sure to angle his pelvic bone just right to hit that spot within her walls that drove her wild.

Their bodies moved together, their thrusts causing the towel to shift beneath them. The salt from the ocean made their skin slick, with a unique texture to the scene. Each thrust one that made her gasp and moan.

“God, Lewis,” she breathed, her hands gripping his shoulders as he continued to thrust into her. “You feel so good.”

He smirked; his pace steady but increasingly fervent. “I needed this so much.”

His movements aiming to hit that special spot that made her shiver and moan. The confined space of the jeep, combined with the intimacy of the moment, heightened their senses. Her eyes closed, her breaths coming in gasps as she approached the edge of her climax.

“You close, love?” Lewis asked, his voice a strained whisper as he maintained his rhythm.

“Yeah,” she managed, her voice trembling with pleasure. “So close.”

When she finally managed to open her eyes to look at him, he was smiling, his thrusts now slower, more deliberate, as he dragged out every wave of her orgasm.

The pleasure overwhelming, the intimacy of the moment making it all the more intense. They lay tangled together, their bodies slick with sweat and ocean salt, savoring each other.

“Reckon you got one more in you?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement.

She managed a weak nod, her hands gripping the edges of the towel. “I’ll give it my best”

Lewis chucked and picked up the pace “I’ll drag another one, if need be.”  Her moans filling the confined space again, mixing with his own grunts of pleasure.

First sex dream

Lewis stirred awake, the remnants of his dream still clinging to his mind like a hazy fog. His body was warm, a flush of heat running through him as he slowly blinked his eyes open, taking in the soft afternoon light filtering through the curtains.

He was on the couch in their home office, where he’d drifted off while Y/n worked at her desk. But now, as tried to blink awake, he was painfully aware of the tension in his lower body—the unmistakable evidence of a wet dream.

He groaned softly, a bit embarrassed and still undeniably hard. The dream had been so vivid, so real. He could still feel the ghost of her touch, the way her body had moved against his, the way she had tasted.

It was almost as if he could reach out and pull her back into his arms.

His eyes drifted over to Y/n, who was seated at the desk, completely absorbed in whatever she was working on. She had her hair up in a messy bun, a few strands falling around her face. She was wearing one of his old t-shirts, the fabric loose and soft, hiding the curves that had driven him wild in his dream.

The sight of her, so close yet so unaware of the effect she was having on him, made his pulse quicken even faster.

Lewis shifted on the couch, trying to shake off the lingering effects of the dream, but every movement only heightened the awareness of his arousal. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her—every glance only reignited the vivid memories of his dream.

In the dream, he’d had her spread out before him, her body trembling as he pulled her fourth orgasm out of her, her cries echoing in his ears.

The first two orgasms he’d coaxed from her with nothing but his fingers, teasing and torturing her until she was begging for more, her hips bucking against his hand. The third had come from his mouth, his tongue and lips working together to push her over the edge, her body arching and twisting.

The memory of it was enough to make him groan, his desire for her growing stronger by the second. The way she’d looked in the dream—eyes glazed with lust, lips parted in breathless moans, skin flushed with pleasure—was burned into his mind.

And now, watching her sitting there, so unaware of the effect she was having on him, was driving him to the brink of madness.

“Y/n,” he called out, his voice rougher than he intended.

She turned in her chair, smiling softly when she saw him awake. “Hey, sleepyhead. Had a good nap?”

He swallowed again, nodding. “Yeah, you could say that.”

Her smile widened, and she got up from her desk, walking over to where he was lying. “You look a little off” she noted, reaching out to touch his cheek. “Are you feeling okay?”

The innocent touch made him flinch, his body responding far too eagerly to her proximity. “I, uh… had a dream,” he admitted, his eyes locking onto hers, searching for any sign that she knew what kind of dream it had been.

“Oh?” she asked, her eyebrows raising with curiosity. “What about?”

He hesitated, feeling the heat creep up his neck. How could he tell her without sounding like a complete idiot? The way she was looking at him, so sweet, so concerned, only made the memory of the dream more vivid.

“It was uh… about you,” he said finally, his voice low.

Her eyes sparkled with interest, and she tilted her head, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “Really? What was I doing?”

“I mean, just… stuff.” he said quickly, almost out of breath.

“Stuff?” She laughed, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “Lew?”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair. “The kind of stuff that makes it really hard to sit here and not bend you over.”

Her laughter softened, and she moved closer, her hand resting on his thigh. “Well, why don’t you?”

His breath hitched as she leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, “Was I being a good girl in your dream, or were you making me beg?”

“Y/n…” His voice was a warning, but it came out weak, betraying just how much he wanted her to keep going.

“Come on, tell me” She coaxed, her hand sliding up his thigh, dangerously close to where he was already aching for her. “What was I doing in your dream?”

“You were—” He sucked in a breath as her fingers lightly traced the outline of his arousal through his pants. “You were… coming. Again and again. And I… I couldn’t get enough.”

“Mmm,” she purred, her lips curling into a wicked smile. “And how many times did I come for you?”

“Four.” His voice was strained, the memory of the dream mingling with the reality of her touch. “The first two with my fingers.”

She bit her lip, clearly enjoying this more than she should. “And the others?”

“The third with my mouth,” he confessed, his eyes dark with desire. “And the fourth… you were so close, and I could feel it. So, I just kept going”

“Sounds like quite a dream,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his neck now, her breath hot against his skin. “Maybe we can make it a reality.”

Before she could continue, he was tugging down her lace panties, his fingers already itching to make the dream a reality.

“Lew—” she started, but he was already sinking to his knees on the floor, his hands parting her thighs as he pressed a kiss to the inside of her leg.

“Shh,” he murmured against her skin, his voice thick with need. “Let me make this real.”

And with that, he buried his face between her thighs, his mouth finding her with an eagerness that made her head fall back against the couch. His tongue flicked over her clit, his fingers teasing her entrance, and all she could do was moan as he set to work, determined to pull those same cries from her that he’d heard in his dream.

This time, it was real. And it was so much better.

______________________________________________________________

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[trickphotography2]

we can't be friends (but i'd like to just pretend)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x unnamed female!reader, callsign Ladybug (story from Jake's POV)

Word count: 12.8k (sorry, it's a really long one)

Synopsis: Jake's not entirely sure how the bet came about other than being too drunk and maybe a little bored at the Fourth of July party. But after shaking on it with Yale, he agrees to help the new WSO - Ladybug - out with her crush on Rooster and figure out how to get the two of them to the Navy Ball together. With four months to get it done, it'll be simple. But when the reserved aviator is harder to get to know than expected, Jake has to push her to get out of her own way.

Written for @sorchathered Rom-Com challenge, with a prompt of She's All That

Warning: This fic does include angst (mentions of drunk driving and the aftermath, PTSD, loss of consciousness, and toxic men) with fluff

18+, minors DNI

Crossposted on Ao3 | My Masterlist

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

The Hard Deck was busy for a Monday, which suited Jake just fine as long as he still had access to the dartboard and could flirt with some of the fresher faces while avoiding his previous mistakes. After a long day in the classroom, he was ready to let off some steam, and the pretty blonde thing by the bar looked like she’d do nicely. 

Downing the rest of his beer, he threw his last three darts, ending the game against Coyote with a decisive win and making his way to the bar. Yale and Omaha were there, but the rest of the Daggers were huddled by the pool table. As he passed, he could hear Phoenix telling everyone about the new WSO she was sponsoring that was finally arriving after her orders got pushed back - he still didn’t understand why she volunteered for the extra duty. Sponsors were great, but unless you had kids, getting established on a new base wasn’t hard - show up on time, figure out your housing, and report to command ASAP. There was no need to have someone hold your hand through the process. But that was just his opinion. If Phoenix wanted to spend her spare time being pen pals with folks moving to San Diego and running around to help them get settled, more power to her. 

Getting the blonde’s number was hardly a challenge, and she grinned at him while walking away to rejoin her friends. Jake motioned to Jimmy for another beer, and the older man quickly slid one over the counter. Moving closer to his fellow aviators, Jake leaned against the bar and surveyed the crowd. “Found yourself another tag chaser?” Yale chuckled, sipping his drink.

“Like shootin’ fish in a barrel,” Jake shrugged and smiled as the girl looked at him again. He threw a wink for good measure and saw how the friend group giggled.

The front door opened, and his eyes darted to the woman walking in. Even if she hadn’t been wearing her khakis, the god-awful birth control glasses that Bob also favored would have given her away as military. Jake let his gaze rake over the unfamiliar woman, clocking the double bars and wings as she looked around nervously. And then he heard Phoenix call out, and she looked up. 

Omaha looked up from his drink, tracking the woman as well. “Shit,” he hisses through his teeth before lifting his glass and taking a swig. “That’s Ladybug?” Twisting, Jake watched her reach Phoenix, who seemed to be introducing her to the rest of the crew.

“Ladybug?” Yale asked, straightening from where he leaned against the bar. His eyes tracked her as she moved, barely hiding a sneer behind his drink. 

“My new backseater,” Omaha sighed. Since Halo had gotten orders to Pensacola, the aviator had been waiting for his new WSO to arrive. 

“And would you look at that - girl’s swingin’ way out of her league.” Even from across the bar, Jake could see Ladybug blushing as she talked to Rooster and reached up to adjust her glasses. Phoenix, standing between them, caught his gaze and raised an eyebrow. Smirking, he turned away, his attention settling back on the table of women who weren’t subtle about their looking at him. Lifting his beer, he grinned around the mouth of the bottle before slapping the bar and pushing away from it.

“If you’ll excuse me, gents - looks like I’ve got an audience.” 

It was still early when he closed out his and Kristen’s tabs, and Jake reflexively looked back toward where the Daggers hung out. Most were still there, but he noted that Ladybug had already left. The scowl Phoenix shot him when she sensed his gaze let him know he’d get an earful tomorrow about not welcoming the new kid, but he’d deal with it.  

“Ready?” Kristen purred, running her hand up his back as she came alongside him. Grinning down at her, he nodded before signing his receipt and shoving his wallet into his back pocket.

“Let’s get outta here.” 

Weeks bled past, punctuated by a party at Payback’s for the Fourth of July. As the married man in the crew, the Fitch family was always happy to host.

And while Jake wasn’t purposefully keeping tabs on Ladybug - “Bug is fine,” she’d told everyone - he started to notice her absence more. While in the Ready Room, she often looked out the window and listened to the radio chatter while others played foosball and messed around. Omaha said she was good but missed Halo and joking around in the cockpit. Bob, Fanboy, and Phoenix seemed to be the only ones to get her to open up and crack a rare smile. She didn’t join them at lunch in the cafeteria or for drinks at the Hard Deck. 

And every time Rooster got near her, she got flustered. Her usual reserve and cool seemed to disappear, and she either clammed up or rambled. 

So, seeing her show up at the party with a fruit platter was surprising. Payback’s wife, Maria, quickly offered her a drink, and Bug joined Phoenix and her girlfriend, Kerri. From the grill, Jake watched as she mingled, and he wondered how she was wearing jeans on a day when the temperature was already reaching the mid-80s. Most of the other women had opted for shorts or summer dresses - god, he loved summer dress season - but Bug’s only concession to the heat seemed to be a short-sleeved shirt and occasionally pressing her cold soda can to her neck.

“I gotta ask,” Kerri said, her arm looping through Bug’s as they walked into the kitchen to grab food. “What’s the story behind Ladybug? Nat told me there’s always a story behind the callsign.” While assembling his burger, Jake found himself listening to their conversation.

“I, uh… I worked with a lot of…new… pilots when I was starting. There were a couple of close calls and,” she shrugged. “Ladybugs are good luck.” 

“Shit,” Rooster said, glancing up from spooning pasta salad onto his plate. He grinned, a sunburn already appearing on his face. “I remember you on the Ford now - you were the WSO with the kid just out of FRS who panicked when his landing gear got stuck and nearly skidded into the ocean.” 

Bug’s eyes were big behind her glasses as she flushed, pouring chips onto the table when she missed her plate. Quickly, she set the bag down and cleaned up her mess while muttering, “Yeah.” 

“Damn. That was a bad one - thought he was gonna ram the back of the carrier at first.” Rooster put down his plate and lifted his hands to demonstrate. “I heard the pilot started descent without realizing his front gear wasn’t down, missed the tailhook, and almost didn’t accelerate fast enough to recover. They circled and had to dump fuel while they got the barricades up, but they came in too low and nearly clipped the back of the ship before finally skidding in.” 

“Jesus!” Kerri said, looking at Bug. “Seriously?”

“It was his first carrier landing,” the woman replied with a shrug. “He got better.” 

“After we all had to sit through a lecture on the basics of landing,” Rooster smirked while grabbing his plate and throwing a wink at Bug, who flushed bright red. “Didn’t you both have to sit front and center for that one?”

“It was a good refresher.”

“He still flying?” Jake asked, biting into a carrot stick. Bug’s eyes flashed with something before her gaze dropped to her plate. 

“Not anymore,” she said softly, quickly heading back outside with her plain burger and a handful of chips. He and Rooster exchanged glances as Kerri got a worried look on her face. 

The drinks flowed, and Jake enjoyed himself as he hung out with his buddies. As fun as it was to have Mav around, it was also really nice when the soon-to-be-Admiral chose to hang out with his wife and stepdaughter, allowing the younger crowd to cut loose. Payback and Maria had already offered anyone who'd drank too much a safe space to crash, and Jake would take advantage of it. He and Yale went shot-for-shot in beer pong, and his tongue was red from the jello shots he’d consumed. 

“She’s delusional,” Yale slurred, punching Jake’s arm and pointing to where Bug and Rooster were chatting. “Not hot ‘nough to pull an aviator.”

“She’s an aviator too, dick,” Jake rolled his eyes, watching as Bug pressed her cold soda can to her throat. The movement shifted her shirt, and he could see that she had the beginning of a sunburn on her arms. Squinting, he stared at the raised red line that reached the middle of her bicep, and, as though feeling his gaze, she looked at him. Her eyes darted down to her arm, and she quickly adjusted her sleeve to hide it, her face flushing. 

“Oooh, Hangman’s gotta crush on Bug!” He rolled his eyes at the immaturity, sipping his beer and anticipating the hangover he’d have in the morning for mixing alcohol. 

“You’re drunk. She’s a decent WSO and keeps Omaha’s dumbass alive.” And that was true. As much as he never wanted a backseater, he couldn’t help but notice how methodical Bug was. She was the first on the flight line doing her pre-flight checks, talking to the flight crew and mechanics about anything that felt off in the jet. She took thorough notes during a mission brief and conferred with the other WSOs to triple-check things before heading out. He knew that Mav was keeping an eye on her, probably vetting her for a reference to a test program. 

The conversation shifted, and Jake could feel his tongue getting looser the more he drank. That was how he was somehow talked into a dumb bet - that Bug would catch Rooster’s eye and go to the Navy Ball with him. 

And Jake would help.

Bug left the party before night fell, missing the impressive fireworks and sparklers they set off in the front yard. They had to brush debris from their hair and use the hose to put out minor fires in the grass, but thankfully, the only injuries were minor burns.

As he lay on Payback’s couch, Jake closed one eye to stop the room from spinning when his phone started going off. He ignored the few messages asking what he was doing and if he wanted to come over, wishing he was sober enough to drive home instead of listening to Yale’s snoring. 

As much as Jake wanted to forget his drunken bet with Yale, the other pilot was adamant they followed through because he’d shaken on it. And, never one to back down from a challenge, he reluctantly agreed. 

His first step was reconnaissance. With four months until the Navy Ball, he knew he had enough time to enact his plan once he figured it out. He knew Rooster and the type of women he usually dated. And it wasn’t that Bug was unattractive, just that she seemed not to give a shit what she looked like. Which wasn’t great because Rooster usually dated women who did. They wouldn’t have been caught dead in public without a perfect face of makeup, while Bug seemed content with eyeliner, not even bothering to hide the pimples that occasionally decorated her face. The few times he saw her off duty, she favored comfortable clothes over cute, and he never saw her hair out of anything but the regulation bun or a ponytail. 

However, Jake's most significant obstacle was her confidence. While Bug had no problems with her confidence regarding her job, the moment the conversation strayed outside anything to do with work, she seemed anxious. And if she was going to get Rooster’s attention, that would need to change. 

The first thing he had to do, though, was to gain her trust. Without that, she wouldn’t hear him out on any of his suggestions.

Which was why he found himself approaching her at lunch after seeing her sitting outside at one of the few tables under the trees that the smokers usually used during breaks. She looked down at her phone, occasionally tapping the screen as she picked at her lunch. “Mind if I join you?” Jake asked, not bothering to wait for her answer before tossing his heated-up chicken and rice onto the table and sitting. Bug gave him a surprised look but returned her attention to her phone, eyes occasionally flicking toward him as he ate and watched her finish her apples, cheese, and crackers. She blushed every time their eyes met, and he noticed she wasn’t tapping her phone as much. He was about to say something when she frowned, tossed her apple back into her lunch container, and tucked the phone to her ear.

“Hey, gimme a second.” With a tight smile, Bug gathered her things and shoved them into her lunch bag, slipping it over her arm before standing and walking away. 

Jake tried again the next day, only to find that Bug wasn’t at the table. Instead, he saw her walking around the building with her headphones in, her flight suit tied around her waist, and one of her sleeves pushed up. On the third day, he beat her to the table and saw her pause when she caught sight of him. “I don’t bite, Bug,” he called out and saw her shoulders tense. Her gaze was guarded as she trudged to the table and sat, not saying a word as she pulled out her container of apples, cheese, and crackers with flavored water. His eyes darted over her meal as she opened the container. “So what’d’ya think about the new group of trainees?”

Her hand froze as she dug in her pocket, eyes slowly lifting to meet his. “They’re cocky.” Her answer made him smirk as he reached across the table to grab a hunk of cheese from her lunch. “Hey!”

“We were all cocky when we got here. The instructors and Adversary students will beat it outta them.” Bug gave him an incredulous look as he popped the cheese in his mouth and grinned. 

“Clearly, they didn’t beat it out of everyone.” The steely look she gave him was the most animated he’d seen her. She slapped the back of his hand when he reached for a cracker. “You have your own lunch, Hangman.” 

“That’s not a lunch, Bug, that’s a kid’s snack. You need protein.” She ignored him and pulled out her phone, tapping on the screen. Chuckling, he opened his lunchbox and took out his meal, stirring the chicken and rice together. He watched her as he ate, smirking every time he caught her glancing at him and noting the rising blush on her cheeks. “Why do you hide out here?” he asked. 

“I hardly think sitting outside the office is hiding,” came her clipped response. 

“It is if you’re avoiding your squad.” 

“Maybe I just like peace and quiet while I’m eating.” 

“And scrolling social media.” 

“I’m not - ” Bug lowered her phone enough for him to glance at the screen, seeing it covered in text. “I just like to read in silence, okay? Do you mind?” Jake shrugged and didn’t say anything for a few minutes until he finished eating, his fork clattering in the glass container as he tossed it down. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. 

“What are you reading?” 

“A book.” 

“Is it any good?”

“It’s hard to tell when someone keeps interrupting me.” 

“What type is it?” 

“An e-book.”

“No,” he chuckled. “History? Non-fiction? Biography?” The faded blush roared back, and she refused to meet his gaze. His grin grew as he asked, “Is it a sex book?”

Bug locked her phone and set it face down on the table. Crossing her arms over her chest, she lifted her chin, lips pressed into a thin line. “What do you want, Hangman?” 

“Nothin’. Just trying to get to know my new squadmate.” 

“You don’t have to know me,” she snapped, shoving her things into her lunch bag. “I already have a sponsor and a pilot.” Startled by her response and the tears glistening in her eyes, he pushed to his feet as she stood.

“Bug - ”

“Just leave me alone, Hangman.” 

For as close as the squad worked together, Bug was good at holding herself apart from the team. After slipping a note into her locker with a quickly jotted ‘Sorry’ and feeling like he’d regressed to high school, Jake left her alone. Losing a bet wasn’t worth being an asshole and causing a rift in team dynamics. 

But while she was ignoring him, it was good to see that she was at least talking to Phoenix. And, every once in a while, Rooster, who still seemed oblivious to her crush. Jake tried not to look at Yale whenever the two interacted, not wanting to see the mocking eye-roll the other aviator would send his way. The way she’d blushed and tripped over her boots when Rooster patted her shoulder after a run where Omaha managed to get tone on him with her guidance was enough for Yale to go on a ten-minute tear about her at the Hard Deck.

Jake had walked away. He hadn’t even stayed long enough to pick someone up and went back to his apartment, wondering what the hell Yale had against Bug.

An August rainstorm drove Bug inside to the cafeteria, and Bob waved her over to join them. The only seat left was between Jake and Rooster, and she reluctantly settled between them and opened her salad. Jake was happy to see bits of grilled chicken in it but forced himself not to say anything. He was relieved that Yale, Harvard, and Fritz had decided to go to the food court for lunch so he wouldn’t have to witness how Bug kept herself apart, how she picked at her food, and how her eyes were downcast. When Phoenix mentioned the upcoming beach trip, she didn’t hear the offer to join until Rooster nudged her, brow furrowing in concern. 

“Yeah, sure,” she murmured, not seeming to realize what she agreed to. 

Later, when they were in the desk farm, Jake saw Bug jump out of her seat and leave quickly, phone pressed to her ear.

And Yale glared at her while looking up from his phone.

Bug needs help and you’re the closest. Here’s her address.

Jake stared at his phone as he sat at a red light. Halfway to the beach, he quickly flicked his blinker to pull a U-turn and head back toward his house. Bug only lived a few streets away from him, in one of the apartment complexes that had gone up over the last year.

He spotted her standing by her car, phone pressed to her ear and lower lip between her teeth. Jake frowned when he drove behind her, seeing the tilted vehicle. Rather than pulling into a spot, he parked behind her and hopped out to see that two tires were slashed. Her eyebrows rose behind her glasses when she saw him, and she quickly spun to avoid his concerned gaze, her floor-length floral skirt fluttering. 

“Whatever is closest, I don’t care,” she said, and he could hear the barely constrained tears in her voice. “Yeah, two tires…. Alright, thank you.” He crouched and ran his finger over the puncture mark on the back tire, glancing up to see that Bug’s shoulders were up by her ears. 

“You alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine. I told Phoenix that I didn’t need anyone here.” 

“Someone slashed your tires.”

“It happened to a few people last night,” she shrugged, slowly turning to face him. “It’s an annoyance, but nothing I can’t handle on my own.” 

“Was that the insurance company?” 

“Yeah. They’re going to tow it to a garage for me.”

“Alright, how long are they gonna be?”

“They said an hour, which probably means two. You should go and enjoy the beach.” 

“I’m not going, Bug. Did you call the police?” 

“They’re the ones who let me know it happened. One of my neighbors called them after he came out and saw his slashed.”

“So you’ve got the report number?” When she nodded, he ran a hand through his hair. “Alright, I’m gonna move my truck.” 

“Hangman, I’m serious - ”

“So am I. I can sit in my truck or wait by your car, or we can go inside, but I’m not leaving until they get your car. And then we can go to the beach.” 

“I’m not going to the beach.”

“We’ll see.” Bug’s lips pressed into a thin line as she crossed her arms, hip cocking to one side. He smiled at the sight, eyes snagging on the red scar on her arm. With his sunglasses on, she didn’t notice.

Her apartment was nice, in the ‘recently moved in and haven’t fully unpacked’ way. As she grabbed some water, he looked at the cart of books sitting by her couch. One caught his eye, and he flipped to a random page. 

Patroclus is breathing harder than the effort to hold our princess down requires, and his cock is so stiff, it’ll be a fucking miracle if he doesn’t come just from foreplay. It’s fine if he does. We have all of tonight and tomorrow. 

“What are you doing?” 

Jake looked up from the book and grinned, holding it so the cover faced her. “I didn’t realize you were reading porn at lunch.” 

“It’s not porn,” she snapped, reaching for the book. He wasn’t sure why he did it, but he held the book higher and read aloud. 

“I plan on tucking these two in for some rest after I fuck the worry out - oof!” He doubled over when her fist collided with his stomach, not enough to hurt but to startle him. Face bright red, Bug snatched the book from his hand and returned it to the cart, standing protectively in front of it. “That’s definitely porn,” Jake chuckled. “Good for you. Didn’t take you for a threesome kinda girl - ”

Bug let out a strangled sound before she lunged forward to press her hands to his mouth. “Will you shut the fuck up, Hangman?” Fighting back the urge to lick her palm, he wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pulled her hand from his mouth, unable to keep from grinning. 

“Your secret’s safe with me, Bug. I won’t tell anyone that you avoid talking to us so you can spend your lunch reading sexy - ”

“Thanks for stopping by; now get the hell out of my house,” she cut him off, ripping her hand out of his hold and pressing it to his shoulder, trying to turn him toward the door. He shook her off, choosing to collapse onto the couch instead. She glared at him briefly before sighing heavily as he reached for one of the water glasses she’d dropped onto the coffee table. Sitting on the opposite side, she grabbed the other glass and ran her thumb through the condensation already forming on the sides. “You really don’t have to stay. The tow driver’ll take care of my car, and I don’t feel like going to the beach after this.”

“‘M startin’ to get the feeling that you don’t like us, Ladybug.” While his tone was teasing, Jake meant every word. “You don’t eat with us, you won’t go to the Hard Deck, and now you’re avoiding a beach day? Those are pretty much mandatory for the squadron.”

Hurt flashed in her eyes, and Bug’s teeth dug into her lower lip. “I… I don’t dislike you guys. I just… there’s a lot of stuff that - ” Her cell started vibrating on the coffee table. Jake’s eyes shot to it, catching the name RISK and seeing a picture of a guy in a flight suit, smirking up at the camera and flipping it off. Bug snatched the phone up, eyes darting toward him. “I’m sorry, I have to take this.” Quickly, she stood while answering it and walking toward her bedroom. “Hey, how’s it - ”

The door closed, muffling her voice. Jake stared at it momentarily before pushing to his feet and walking to the fridge to get a refill. While the rest of the apartment was pretty bare, the refrigerator was covered in magnets from across the world, puns about books, a few bills, and a couple of pictures. He recognized the man from her phone screen as the one with one arm around Bug and her head on his shoulder as they sat in the shadow of an F-18’s wing, hair a tangled mess with her helmet between her knees and a pair of glasses with brown frames perched on her nose. They were there in a group, Bug laughing while sitting on his shoulders and his fingers digging into her thighs to hold her steady at an outdoor concert, the hem of her dress sitting on his head. There were pictures of a softball team, Bug grinning with a bat resting on her bare shoulder.

And Jake realized it was the first time he’d seen her smile like that. 

That thought irked him. And it definitely didn’t make him pay more attention to the calendar hanging in the kitchen. Sipping his water, his eyes darted over her small, neat handwriting, and his brows furrowed. Risk’s PT. Deposition. PCP follow-up. Chiro follow-up. FS reassessment. 

When the bedroom door opened, he was back on the couch, reading one of Bug’s books. Her eyes were red when she stepped out, and he clocked the fake smile. “Tow truck driver just called and said he’s pulling in.” When her eyes landed on the book in his hand - the Kiss Quotient - color rose in her pale cheeks. 

“Good timing. We’ll get that taken care of and head out. Harvard’s already texted me a list of things people forgot, so we’ll grab those at the store on the way.” 

“Hangman - ”

“Bug.” It was his turn to cut her off, the playful tone absent in his voice. “Come on. Give us a chance. If nothing else, Rooster’ll be there.” 

“Why would - ”

“I’m borrowing this, by the way,” he added, raising the book and tucking it under his arm while walking to slip on his shoes.

“What? No - you don’t want - ” The front door shut behind him, and Jake couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard Bug open the door and call for him to stop. He ignored it, going to greet the tow truck driver. 

It was hard not to pay attention to Bug after that day at the beach. She’d declined every offer to play a game, instead sitting on her towel and reading. She didn’t even change into a bathing suit - choosing to wear that long skirt that covered all but the tops of her feet and a t-shirt that gave her a farmer’s tan. The most skin she showed was a flash of ankle when she walked along the water with Kerri, pausing to pick up shells occasionally as Rooster and Phoenix trailed them. Jake tried not to pay too much attention when, on the way back, Kerri and Phoenix pulled ahead, leaving Rooster and Bug walking side by side and chatting.  

But she stayed through the late afternoon retreat to the Hard Deck, sipping cranberry juice and ginger ale. When she stood beside Rooster as he pulled his usual party trick of playing the piano, Jake tried not to notice how her skirt and his hideous Hawaiian shirt almost matched and pay attention to the woman chatting him up. He saw Bug looking at her phone a few times but only slipped away twice before calling it a night. She declined his offer to drive her home when he managed to shake off the woman - Jackie? - for a few minutes, and said goodbye to everyone instead of disappearing as usual. 

And now that he was watching, he noticed how frequently she left work early on days they weren’t in the air. The occasional wince when she turned too quickly to look at something, and how she sometimes favored her left side toward the end of the day. The handful of over-the-counter painkillers she took after they did PT and drove home before hitting the showers. 

She didn’t join them at lunch every day, but she started to make appearances, even though she mostly stayed quiet and frequently left to answer a phone call before the end of the break. And Jake found himself seeking her out at the smoker’s table. After he returned her book, teasing her mercilessly about the explicit sex scenes in the story, she just put in her headphones and flipped him the bird before going for a walk. 

He wouldn’t admit it, but the book had been hot. And it made him wonder what else Bug was reading, face blank as she sat across from him. 

The only one who seemed unhappy about the change was Yale. Jake caught the aviator watching her through narrowed eyes a handful of times and noticed how she went out of her way to avoid him. When he asked Bug about it, she just shrugged and changed the topic. 

The only activity she had yet to do was a night at the Hard Deck, so Jake found himself standing at her front door, grinning at her confused expression. “We’re going out,” he said, reaching over her head to open the door wider and inviting himself inside. 

“What? No, bra hours are done.” Laughing, he kicked off his shoes and spun, planting his hands on his hips. She crossed her arms over her chest, making the thin material of her t-shirt cling to the swell of her breasts and a thin strip of skin appear over the waistband of her sweatpants. 

“Come on, Bug. You need to do a Hard Deck night with us. Everyone’s gonna be there in a few, and it’ll be fun.” When she stared at him, he forced his smile to not falter. “You can’t tell me you didn’t have fun the two times you’ve been there before.” 

“I…” she paused and took a deep breath, eyes pinching behind her glasses. “I appreciate the invitation, Hangman, but I want a quiet night. I’m exhausted and - ”

“Just a couple of hours. Have a few drinks, play some pool, and then I’ll bring you home. Promise.” The longer he looked at her, the more his smile faltered. So he played his ace - “Rooster’ll be there.” 

Her brows knit together for a moment before her expression cleared. “I’ll give you one hour,” she sighed.

“Three.”

“I’m not putting my bra back on for three hours. Two or no deal.” 

“You’ve got it. As long as you wear something other than jeans.” 

“What’s wrong with jeans?” she demanded, squeaking in protest when he pushed past her into her bedroom. He flicked on the light, glancing quickly at her unmade bed and rumpled sheets before moving toward her closet. “Do you even know what boundaries are?” 

He quickly flicked past her flight suits and uniforms, finding what he was looking for in the back of her closet. Grabbing the hanger, he grinned while turning to see Bug’s scowl. “Wear this,” Jake said, trying to hand her the hanger holding a sundress. She stared at it, eyes slowly raising to meet his.

“No.” 

“Come on.” 

“No.”

“You’ll look hot in it.” 

“I’m wearing jeans or nothing.”

“Not sure why you’d be naked instead of wearing a dress, but I’m not opposed.” She blushed, shaking her head. 

“Goodnight, Hangman. Thanks for stopping by, but I’m tired.” Jake sighed her name, making her eyebrows shoot up. He’d never called her that before, and he wasn’t sure why he did it now. She was always Bug or Ladybug. 

“Wear the dress. Come out and have fun with your friends. Please?” Their gazes met, and he could see the conflict in her eyes. And, after a long moment, she reached out to take the hanger. Their fingers brushed, and he tried to keep his eyes trained on hers but couldn’t help but notice how her breathing had increased. The slight tightness around her mouth as she blinked quickly. And the subtle way her body trembled. 

“I-I’m going to jump in the shower.” 

When the bathroom door closed, Jake had the urge to knock on it and tell her she didn’t have to wear the damn dress. That she could go in her sweatpants and he wouldn’t care. That he was an idiot for asking, Yale’s reminder about their bet ringing in his ears as he drove past her street. She didn’t have to wear a damn dress to get Rooster’s attention, and she shouldn’t have a crush on a guy who was so oblivious.

Instead, he walked back to the kitchen, opened the cupboards until he found a glass, and helped himself to some water. He stared at that picture of Bug on the man’s shoulders. Her eyes nearly closed behind her glasses with how broadly she smiled, one hand holding a cowgirl hat to her head, the other thrown out to keep herself steady with a beer clutched in her hand. 

Jake couldn’t believe that Rooster wouldn’t remember a girl like that. Even without the makeup and smiles, there was no mistaking Bug. Behind those birth control glasses, he could still see glimpses of that woman in the WSO. And it bothered him not to know what had happened to dim that shine. 

He was a few chapters into another book he’d plucked off the cart when he heard the shower turn off, the blow dryer starting a few minutes later. Jake glanced at his phone to check the time, ignoring the texts asking where he was and if he was going to the Hard Deck. Instead, he set his phone beside him. He settled on the couch, leaning against the arm and making himself comfortable as he read about a group of guys who got together and read romance books to save their relationships. 

Jake was lost in Gavin and Thea’s story when he heard a throat clear. Sitting up quickly, he spun in his seat, jaw nearly dropping at the sight of Bug. But not his Bug - the Bug from the picture, standing in her doorway with a teasing smirk on her red lips and uncertainty in her eyes. She shifted under his open admiration, hand lifting to adjust the glasses that she wasn’t wearing. “Let me guess, you’re gonna borrow that one too?” 

“I…uh… yeah,” he nodded, moving to stand before her. She hadn’t pulled her hair back into its usual bun or ponytail, leaving it down so it curled against her shoulders. Jake let his gaze dance down her body, and Bug’s shoulders pulled back under his blatant inspection, inadvertently drawing his attention to her breasts pressing against the sweetheart neckline of her dress. When she crossed her arms, his attention went to the raised red scar on her right arm, and he had to stop himself from reaching out and tracing it with his fingertips. It was about the width of a pencil, curling from the top of her shoulder to the middle of her bicep. Sensing her discomfort, he tore his gaze away, allowing it to drift lower. Her dress skimmed the top of her knees, and he bit back a groan at seeing cowboy boots on her feet, red scars decorating the skin on display. 

Bug’s hand was clenched tightly around a jean jacket, and Jake could feel the discomfort radiating off her. But she met his eyes when they lifted. He wasn’t a makeup expert, but he could appreciate how her eyeshadow and winged eyeliner complemented her eyes, and he found it heartening that he could still see the little divot on her nose from her glasses. “Can you even see without your BCGs?” Jake asked after clearing his throat. 

The apprehension drained from her face at his gentle teasing, and Bug scoffed while rolling her eyes. “I hate wearing contacts, but I’ll put up with it for a couple of hours.” Shaking his head, he reached for her jacket and took it, holding it out to help her slip it on. His fingers accidentally grazed her neck, and he caught the subtle scent of something floral when she turned toward him. His eyes went to her lips like they were a painted target, and her voice was a little breathier than usual when she spoke. “I’ll meet you there?” 

“I’ll drive,” he answered, voice husky as he stepped back.

“I’ll drive so you can have a couple of drinks.”

He shook his head, digging into his jeans pocket for his keys. “You can be my WSO tonight and pick the music, but I’m driving.” That made her roll her eyes, and Jake had to force himself not to stare at her ass as she walked in front of him out of the apartment and down to his waiting truck.

In the dark interior of his truck, he could smell her perfume and gripped the shifter to keep from placing his hand on the expanse of her thigh that flashed in every streetlight they drove under. Seemingly oblivious to his struggle, she sang along to a 90s station about kissing in the moonlight. 

And, once they were outside the Hard Deck, she paused, her hand slipping into his for a fleeting moment. He could feel her shaking and squeezed her fingers before she let him go and stepped into the bar. 

Everyone would have paused to witness the not-improved-by-different Bug if it had been a movie. But no one seemed to notice them enter, and Jake reclaimed her hand to help tow her through the weekend crowd to where he knew the Daggers would be waiting. And that was where Bug got the recognition she deserved, when Kerri catcalled her, making a flush rise on her cheeks as Phoenix’s girlfriend took her hand and dragged her from Jake, encouraging her to do a little twirl. He saw a couple of glances at her scars, but thankfully, no one said anything. 

And Jake spent the night catching men checking her out, but Bug remained oblivious. When he went to the bar to get them some sodas - he overheard a conversation from two pilots about not recognizing her. “Now that’s the Bug I remember,” Rooster said as he joined him at the counter, setting down his empty beer bottle. Jake glanced at his wingman and nodded as they watched her laugh at something Omaha said to her and Fanboy. 

“Hey, Jake,” a somewhat familiar voice said, and he felt a hand on his lower back. A woman slid into the vacant spot beside him, smiling coyly. “Long time no see. Wanna buy me a drink and catch up?” 

For his life, he couldn’t put a name to her face, but he was pretty sure they’d slept together. Beside him, Rooster snorted and ordered his beers. Jake tore his gaze away from the woman and caught Penny before she left. “I’ll get two Cokes, please.”

“That’s not my usual,” she giggled.

“No, it’s my friend’s,” he replied. He shouldn’t have enjoyed the shocked look on her face, but he felt relieved when her hand lifted, and she disappeared into the crowd. 

But when he looked over to see what Bug was up to, she’d also disappeared. When he returned to the group, Bob said she’d stepped onto the patio to take a phone call. Jake sipped his soda and tried not to keep glancing at his watch, but his eyes darted to the back door. Yale arrived, pressing a beer bottle into his hand as they played darts, and he didn’t think before drinking it. 

Forty minutes had passed when he finally decided to look for her. The late September night was still relatively warm, but it was breezy by the water. The laughs were loud on the patio, but he didn’t see her at the tables. The parking lot lights spilled out onto the beach, and Jake caught sight of a flash of color in the corner of his eyes. His feet moved before he realized it, shoes sliding in the soft sand. As he neared, he could see Bug had removed her boots, her forearm across her raised knees as she curled into herself, trying to make herself as small as possible. “It’s okay, Risk,” her voice was soft, and he could hear her sniffle. The sound made him move faster, shrugging off his bomber jacket as he neared. 

Sensing his approach, Bug lifted her head, and his heart broke at the sight of tears on her cheeks as she talked on the phone. In the weak moonlight, he mouthed, “You okay?” She looked at him for a long moment before shaking her head, letting her forehead drop back onto her arm. Jake hesitated a heartbeat before draping his jacket across her shoulders and sitting beside her. The sand was cool, and he rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his wrist and trying not to listen to Bug’s call over the crash of the waves. 

“Risk, I… yeah. But it’s getting… I need to…” she heaved a weary sigh, digging her nails into her shoulder. “I’m going to go, alright? We can talk tomorrow and… I told you, I'm with some friends toni - ” The voice on the other side of the line got loud, and she lifted her head to swipe at her eyes. “No, I’m not fucking any of them, Risk.” The words made his blood boil, but Bug just sounded so tired. “I’ll talk to you - alright, good… I know you’re upset, but I ne - please don’t say that…Risk, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Goodnight.” 

They were silent for a long time, the only sounds were Bug’s occasional sniffles and the tide coming in. A weight hit his bicep, and Jake turned to see that she’d rested her head on his shoulder. He lifted his arm, tugging her closer. She was trembling, and he knew it wasn’t from the cold. “Wanna talk about it?” he asked. When she didn’t answer, he didn’t push. 

“Risk is…was,” Bug said, voice rough with suppressed emotion, “my pilot before I got here. W-we were really close.” It was on the tip of his tongue to say that didn’t give him a right to say that to her, but her next words froze him. “We were in a bad car accident coming h-home from my going away party.”

“How bad?” Jake asked, not wanting to know the answer. 

“Bad. We were t-boned by a drunk driver and - ” she gasped, letting him pull her closer when she started to shake. “Rolled a few times.” Her hand lifted to touch her temple. “I woke up, and everything was upside down. I hit my head so hard that my glasses broke. But I was lucky. Just had a concussion and cuts from crawling out of the glass. Risk wasn’t… he…he was turned to look at me when  we got hit, and he took the brunt of it.” 

“Is he okay?” 

Bug shook her head, tears dripping off her face as she stared at the water, her voice sounding distant. “Paralyzed from his chest down. The docs think he might get some feeling back, but he’ll never walk again. Never fly again. They’re med boarding him out for that and the TBI.”

“Fuck.”

“One minute we were having drinks and he was telling me he was in love with me, and the next everything was literally upside down.” It was his turn to tense.

“D-did… do you love him?”

“Like a brother.” Jake nodded, pushing away the feeling of relief at her words. His heart cracked when he heard her soft sob. “He’s so angry with me. He doesn’t remember the crash, but I do. I think I was conscious for the first two rolls, and…he was so still. I thought he died. I thought I’d lost my best friend and couldn’t do anything to help him.” Acting on instinct, he pulled her into his arms, her knees digging into the sand by his hips as he held her. He could feel her warm tears on his neck as his hand swept her back, holding her tightly. 

But while he half expected her to fall to pieces, Bug just let out these little hiccupping sobs that broke his heart. “I’ve gotcha,” he said, whispering her name as his lips brushed her hair. 

“I should have let them ground me.” The words were so quiet he would have missed them if they weren’t so close. “I had to leave the day after he woke up. I stayed as long as I could, Hangman, I swear. But the flight surgeon cleared me for duty, and I had orders. I had to come here.” 

“You had orders,” he echoed. “He can’t blame you for that.” When she nodded, he repeated himself. “He can’t blame you for that, Bug.”

“He feels like I abandoned him. That I left my wingman. I-I figured you all would feel the same way… Yale does.” 

“What does Yale have to do with this?” 

“He was in our squadron before he got stationed here.” A chill ran down Jake’s spine, bits of information slotting into place. It was quickly replaced with anger. 

Gently, he pulled away from Bug until he could meet her watery gaze. Her eyes were guarded, exhaustion etched in every feature as he ran his thumb across her cheeks to try and clear away the mess of her makeup. “You did nothing wrong, honey. And no one can blame you for what happened - the accident or you being here. Understood?” When her eyes lowered, unable to meet his, he cupped her cheek and raised her head. “Understood?” 

“Did you drink?” His stomach dropped, tasting the beer Yale had given him on his tongue, smelling it on his breath. 

“Just one.” Bug nodded, bracing her hands on his shoulders and pushing to her feet. It took everything in him not to stop her, his hands sliding to her hips as she looked down at him.

“I’m gonna get a car.”

“I can drive - ”

“No.” He let his hands fall to the sand, hating himself for forgetting his promise. “It’s fine. You should stay and have fun.” 

As much as it killed him, he waited with her in the parking lot for her car to arrive, wanting to pull her into his arms but resisting the urge. But when she tried to give him his jacket, he pushed it back into her hands. “I’ll get it later and grab yours before I leave.”

Bug nodded, saying as she slid into the backseat, “Thanks for tonight, Hangman.” He waited until the tail lights had pulled out of the parking lot before turning and making his way into the Hard Deck. 

He wanted to get the hell out of there and pushed his way to the counter to close out his tab. Bug’s jacket was by the pool tables, and he threw down the pen to retrieve it after signing his receipt. Fury rose in him as he spotted Yale laughing with Harvard and Omaha. Without thinking, he stalked toward him, shoving the other aviators out of the way to grab him by his collar and pushed until Yale’s back hit the wall. Jake ignored the ‘Hey!’s and ‘Whoa!’s, the hands trying to pull him away as he leaned close to hiss, “You leave her the fuck alone, hear me? Leave her alone, or I’ll fuckin’ kill you.” 

Hands curled around him, yanking him away, and Rooster banded an arm around his chest while Harvard stepped between them, holding back his pilot. The bar quieted in anticipation of a fight, but Jake only had eyes for Yale, who grinned. “Finally told you, huh? So much for never leaving a man behind.” 

Rooster pulled hard, Payback catching his arm when he raised his fist. “Come on, man,” Rooster grunted, hauling him away. “It’s not worth it.” 

He grit his teeth, breathing heavily through his nose as he shook off the other men. Grabbing Bug’s jacket, he stormed out of the bar, avoiding Penny and Mav’s gaze and the whispers that followed. 

Bug’s jacket sat on his front seat as Jake drove into work on Monday. He’d texted to check on her over the weekend, but she told him she was okay and didn’t want to see anyone. His phone had been blown up with the other Daggers trying to figure out what happened on Friday, but Jake didn’t know how to tell them without sharing Bug’s story - and that wasn’t his to tell. 

The morning briefing was short, and they were dismissed to the Ready Room to prepare for their flights. Jake was going up in the first group. But before he headed out to the flight line, he stopped Bug on her way out of the classroom. “I’m fine,” she said, answering his unasked question. He could see the dark circles under her eyes and the silent request for him to not say anything. So he didn’t. Other than telling her that her jacket was in his car, Jake asked if she’d brought lunch or a kid’s snack. That earned him a tired smile, and she said she would have to buy lunch today. 

But they wouldn’t get that opportunity.

Bug went up in the second group, and Jake listened to the radio chatter while lounging on the couch. He was happy to have gotten tone on Yale and Harvard, pulling riskier moves that Cyclone wasn’t pleased with, but it had been definitely worth it to hear the asshole cursing him over the mic. 

Their flight started routine enough, and Jake was helping himself to a cup of coffee when he noted a change in Bug’s tone. “Hey Omaha, you with me?” she asked after he’d pulled a quick roll into a dive to avoid Fritz’s attempt to lock on them, climbing to regain altitude as they neared the hard deck. “Omaha?”

“Omaha, come in,” Fritz echoed. “Bug, his radio out?” Even though they were out of sight, flying over the desert, Jake’s eyes flicked to the window.

“Negative, radio’s fine. Omaha?” He could hear the tension in her voice. 

“Shit - level wings, Omaha.”

“He’s out!” 

“Inbound,” Rooster called. The Ready Room was silent, and Jake didn’t realize he’d moved closer to the radio until he felt the volume dial in his fingers, cranking it higher. 

“Bug - status?” the tower called. 

“Losing altitude. Fuck!” Hot coffee splashed over his hand as Jake squeezed the paper cup, and he quickly set it down, shaking away the burning liquid at the sound of her panic. 

“Omaha, recover!” the tower yelled. “Someone give me details. 

“55 nose low, 67 bank,” Fanboy called out. 

“They’re diving,” Phoenix breathed. Jake felt a hand on his shoulder but couldn’t move. Couldn’t do anything but listen to Bug’s panting breath over the radio. 

“Come on, Omaha,” Payback barked. 

And then Jake heard it - Bitchin’ Betty telling Omaha to pull up. “Punch out,” he whispered. His hand itched for the throttle and stick, adrenaline racing as he pictured the dive. As a backseater, Bug was helpless. There was no stick, no throttle. Just the radar, letting her know how close to the ground they were. Their speed. It was her pilot’s job to keep her safe. He was vaguely aware of Coyote coming up beside him, probably reliving his G-LOC blackout just a year ago. 

“Tone,” Fritz called. 

“8G, mach,” Fanboy called. “Alt 500.” They were nose down, headed toward the ground at the speed of sound. 

“Recover, Omaha!” Rooster yelled. But then one voice drowned all the rest, a scream that Jake would hear in his nightmares for years.

“Neil!” 

“Climbing,” Fanboy called.

“Back, I’m back,” Omaha panted. “Fuck.” 

“Knock off,” the tower ordered, scrubbing the rest of the exercise. “Alright, Omaha, climb back above 12,000.” 

“Payback, knockoff.”

“Fritz, knockoff.”

“Fuck, Bug, you good?” Rooster’s question went unanswered, so he repeated it. “Bug, status?” 

“Bug?” Omaha said. 

“9K and climbing,” came her shaky voice. 

“Rooster, knockoff. See you on the ground.”

“You good?” Coyote asked.

Twenty-seven seconds. Omaha had been out for the longest twenty-seven seconds of Jake’s life. 

“She’s good, Hangman,” Phoenix said. But he didn’t hear it. He focused on the radio, listening to the tower guide everyone back in. Rooster refused to land before Omaha, wanting to keep an eye on everything from the air. The room emptied, and he stayed there until Omaha alerted the tower that he was in the landing position. 

And then he bolted, sprinting past the others to the tarmac, barely restraining himself from running to the jet as Omaha landed and taxied. It took ages for the engines to stop and the canopy to lift. There wasn’t any movement for a long moment until Omaha stood, turning to look at his WSO. He extended his arm, and Jake was relieved to see her arm reach up to bump fists. His breath was sawing in and out of his chest as he raced toward her, barely skidding to a halt as the two embraced as soon as their boots hit the tarmac. “So fuckin’ sorry, Bug,” Omaha breathed. “Never happened before, and it - ”

“Are you alright?” Jake demanded, forcing himself not to shove the other man away, his hands clenching and unclenching as he tried to draw deep breaths. 

“We’re good,” Omaha answered.

“Are you alright?” Jake demanded again, gaze not leaving Bug’s wide eyes. Her face was damp, and he could see the imprint of her mask on her pale face, but otherwise, she seemed fine. 

“We’re good,” she repeated, her voice steady. But when he pulled her into his arms, he could feel that she was shaking hard and smelled the sharp scent of sweat. He was vaguely aware of the others arriving, their questions going unanswered as Bug rested her helmeted head on his shoulder, hiding her face from them.

“I’ve gotcha.” He didn’t want to let her go, but he knew they needed to make their way to medical. She and Omaha would need to be checked out and debriefed. Eventually, she pulled away and looked up at him, and Jake made himself give her a reassuring smile as he reached to unclip her helmet. Her hair was sleek with sweat when he lifted it from her head, tucking it under his arm. 

“Hey,” Rooster said, appearing beside them, glancing between the two. “You good?” 

“Yeah,” Bug nodded, stepping toward him and throwing her arms around him. “Thank you, Rooster.”

“‘Course. You ready to get checked out?” She nodded, glancing at Jake. He handed her the helmet and tipped his chin to where the flight surgeon was already talking to Omaha. It hurt to turn away from her, and he caught a flash of something in her eyes as he moved away to shake Fritz’s hand. Rooster threw him a look before tossing an arm over Bug’s shoulder and walking her toward the doc, stopping so she could hug Payback and Fanboy along the way. 

They spent the rest of the day in the classroom, neither Omaha nor Bug joining them. When Jake left work, he saw that her car was already gone. There was talk of getting together to have a few drinks at the Hard Deck, but Jake had no interest in going - especially not when Bob had quipped about another lucky landing for Ladybug.

He’d planned on going straight home and having a glass of whiskey. It was his preferred way to wind down after a hard day, and this one hit harder than most. It wasn’t the first time he’d almost lost a wingman, and he knew it would take some time to shake, but this time was… different. 

This time, it was Bug.

Jake was parking at her apartment and knocking on her door before he realized it. His fist collided with the metal when she didn’t answer. “Bug, it’s me,” he called. She was there - her car was in its spot. But she didn’t answer. He banged again, then rested his forehead on the door, calling her name. When he heard the flick of the lock, he straightened. 

Bug’s eyes were red when they met his, her hair a tangled mess on her shoulders. She was still in her flight suit, the sleeves tied around her waist and her black undershirt discolored with sweat. They stared at one another for a heartbeat before Jake stepped closer, cupped her face, and kissed her. His lips were rough against hers, and he took advantage of her surprised gasp to deepen it. Her hand carded in his hair and he walked them into her apartment, pausing only long enough to kick the door closed. He moved his hand to curl around her neck, guiding her to just the right spot while his other hand slid under her shirt, wanting to reassure himself that she was alright. Bug moaned as his hand curved around her waist, fingers digging in and pulling her close enough to feel her heart beating against his. 

Jake tasted spearmint on her tongue and, when they broke apart to catch their breath, the salt on her skin as his lips sealed on her throat. His fingers curled in her hair, tugging lightly to encourage her to give him more access as he nipped and soothed the hurt with his tongue. “Fuck,” she breathed. 

“Don’t scare me like that, honey,” he whispered, relishing the soft whimper she let out. “Can’t do that to me.” 

“I was so scared,” she admitted. “It was just like the crash. I couldn’t do anything but watch.” His mouth covered hers, unwilling and unable to think about her being in situations where he couldn’t do anything to help. Standing by the radio and listening, being helpless, had been the worst kind of torture.

They froze when there was a knock on the door. And then Jake felt as though he’d been doused in cold water when he heard Rooster call out, “Bug?” He pulled away and stared at her, taking in her kiss-swollen lips and the red marks he’d left on her throat. “Bug?” 

“J-just a minute,” she called back. The glint in her eye dimmed slightly as he stepped away, dropping his hands from her body. Jake ran a hand down his face before licking his lips, savoring the taste of her mouth, tongue, and lip balm before he cleared his throat while continuing to back away.

“I’m… I’m glad you’re okay.” 

“You don’t have to - ”

Jake didn’t wait for her to finish her sentence, turning on his heel to open the door. Rooster took a step back, surprise written across his face, as he pushed past him and hurried toward his truck.

He’d fucked up, and he knew it. 

Jake hated himself, but he wasn’t sure what for - kissing Bug or leaving her. Probably a bit of both. 

But he definitely hated himself for going out of his way to avoid her. For seeing the hurt in her eyes, knowing that he caused it, and doing nothing to make it better. Actively making it worse when she sought him out - avoiding her at lunch and flirting with a woman the night Bug surprised everyone by showing up at the Hard Deck. He knew it was a dick move to walk the woman to her car, leaving her disappointed when he said goodnight without so much as a peck on the cheek. Jake knew what it looked like when he climbed into his truck and drove away rather than going back inside. He spent the rest of the night alone in bed, trying to forget the taste of Bug’s skin, only to paste on a fake smile and whistle as he strode into work the following morning. Bug hadn’t looked at him all day, but he’d definitely caught angry glances from the others.  

It had taken everything in him not to stand on the tarmac the first time she climbed back into a jet and watch the entire flight. Instead, he forced himself to play foosball with Coyote and pretended not to listen closely to her on the radio.  

If there was a benefit to Jake denying himself her company, it was that Bug was getting closer to the rest of the squad. She was eating lunch with them when he dodged her, eating outside or in his truck. She was joining them at the gym instead of sneaking away. The first day he saw her in running shorts instead of pants, Jake wanted to go to his knees in front of her and kiss every scar on her legs to let her know how gorgeous she was. 

And she’d agreed to take the last open seat at their table for the Navy Ball. 

Jake wasn’t sure if he would go until a few hours before it started when Phoenix texted that she’d castrate him if he skipped. So he ironed his dress blues and shaved, promising to leave right after the ceremony and dinner. He didn’t even get his truck washed before heading to the hotel, tossing his keys to the valet, and going straight for the cash bar. 

Phoenix and Kerri were getting pictures taken, and Jake spotted Payback and Maria chatting with Mav and Penny. Fanboy and Bob were mingling, and he didn’t want to sit at the table by himself, so he decided to circulate as well. He’d never enjoyed these nights but knew it was important to get his face out there and show that he was a good sport, especially since he’d be pinning on his gold oak leaves in a few months when he was promoted to Lieutenant Commander. 

One more step toward his goal of being an admiral. 

When he was almost finished with his whiskey neat, Jake made his way back to the bar for another but decided to wait until dinner. But as he walked away, he heard someone call him, turning to see Yale motioning him over. “What?

“Just thought I’d rub it in your face that you lost our bet,” the other man smirked, pointing behind him. Jake glanced over his shoulder, watching as Rooster led a woman to their table and pulled out her chair before collapsing into the one beside her. His arm went around her shoulders, and he tugged her in to kiss her temple. “Looks like you didn’t get Rooster to pick Bug after all.” 

“Our bet was over months ago, asshole,” Jake spat. 

“You sure about that?” 

“It was stupid to do in the first place.”

“What, you betting that you could get Rooster to be attracted to Bug?” He frowned as Yale looked over Jake’s shoulder and winked. 

“You what?” 

He closed his eyes, wishing that it wasn’t her. But when he turned, Bug stood there, shock and hurt written across her features. She looked gorgeous in a tight, floor-length navy blue dress with some type of short, glittery sleeves. He could just see the scar on her arm peeking out, and he ached to press his lips to the curve of her neck. “Bug - ”

“A bet?” 

“Yup,” Yale said, clapping a hand to Jake’s shoulder that he quickly shook off, fists clenching. He couldn’t punch him here, not in front of all the officers, but he wanted to. “All a bet.”

“It wasn’t,” Jake said, reaching for Bug. She stepped back, her red lips pressed into a thin line. “It started out that way but - ”

“Just - ” she cut him off, lifting a hand to stop him. “Just stop, please. Don’t ruin tonight for me. At least, not more than you already have.” 

“Bug - ” But she was gone, pushing through the crowd and exiting into the hotel's main lobby. Turning, he faced Yale, who smirked into his highball glass. “You’re a fuckin’ asshole, you know that?” The other man shrugged. 

“You ever think I’m doin’ you a favor? That Ladybug might not be a good luck charm but a curse? Look at the other pilots she’s been involved with - I mean, fuck. Omaha’s never G-LOC’d before, and a couple of months with her as his WSO and suddenly he’s almost crashing?” 

Aware of the eyes on him, Jake forced himself not to lift his clenched fist as he stepped closer to Yale. “You shut your fuckin’ mouth before I shut it for you.”

“Gentlemen,” Cyclone said, appearing beside them. “You’re blocking the bar.” Jake lifted his chin and stepped back, feeling the air boss’s eyes on him. 

“Sorry ‘bout that, sir,” he forced himself to say. “I’ll get out of your way.” His eyes darted across the room and saw Rooster standing up from the table. Angry, he followed the pilot, intercepting him on his way to the men’s room. “Hey!”

Rooster startled at Jake’s bark and raised an eyebrow. “Hey?”

“Why didn’t you come with Bug tonight?” 

“Bug? Why would I come with her?” 

“Because she likes you, you jackass!” 

“Me? Bug doesn’t like me, jackass. At least, not like that.” 

“Yes, she does. She’s had a crush on you since she got here.” 

“Aren’t you two dating?” The question brought Jake up short. “Everyone’s kind of thought the two of you were together.” 

“No… no, we’re not. She’s not - she likes you. We’re just friends.” 

“Wow,” the other man said, crossing his arms and smirking. “I didn’t realize what a fucking idiot you were. Bug and I are just friends - you two aren’t friends. Or, at least, not just friends.” 

“But…”

“Wow. Phoenix is gonna love this,” Rooster laughed, clapping the other man on the shoulder. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I gotta piss and then get back to my date. Maybe you should go find yours.” 

Jake stood there for a long moment, playing the last few months over in his head. It had been a while since he’d seen Bug blush whenever Rooster looked at her. And, if he thought about it, she’d always looked confused when he mentioned Rooster being somewhere as an incentive for her to go out.

And she’d kissed him back. 

Maybe…maybe what he’d taken for an adrenaline crash on her part had actually been… 

“Fuck,” he groaned, realizing that maybe Bug did actually like him. Maybe he wasn’t the only one who’d caught feelings over the last few months. And she thought he’d only talked to her because of a bet. 

She ignored his phone calls, and he couldn’t find her anywhere in the hotel. He was about to get his car back from the valet and drive to her apartment when he saw her walking back into the ballroom and had to force himself not to run after her. Bug settled at their table, taking a spot between Kerri and Maria. Both women looked at him as he stood behind Bug’s chair and leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Can I talk to you?”

“No.”

“Please?” When she turned away from him and started talking to Maria, he bit back a groan. He sighed her name and watched as a blush rose on her cheeks. 

“Maybe you should sit down, Hangman,” Phoenix said, smirking as she nodded to the seat directly across from Bug. Their squad had thrown in together to get two tables, and he was relieved to see that Yale was sitting at the other one. “Speech is about to start.” He sighed, rubbing a knuckle along Bug’s shoulder and watching the goosebumps rise. She ignored him, and he retreated to sit between Bob and Rooster’s date. Bug continued to ignore him as he stared at the pretty blush that stretched from her cheeks to her chest. He was paying so little attention that Bob had to elbow him when the color guard entered, and he saluted, not watching the guard but instead watching Bug as she stood at attention with her back to him. 

If asked, he couldn’t tell you a damn thing about what the keynote speaker said over their 45-minute speech other than hazarding a guess that it had something to do with the Navy and Marines celebrating their birthdays together. Instead, he watched Bug turn in her seat, occasionally facing him as she sipped her water. During the short break, he stood and tried to catch her before dinner was served, but she looped arms with Maria and retreated to the ladies' room.

“Didn’t think tonight would have a show with it,” Payback chuckled, sipping his beer and setting a glass of wine by his wife’s plate. 

“This is perfect,” Phoenix agreed, tapping her rum and coke against Fanboy’s. 

“Shut up,” Jake grumbled. When Maria and Bug came back, Maria tucked herself under her husband’s arm while Bug checked her phone. He caught the way her brows furrowed, and her shoulders slumped, finger hesitating over the screen before tapping it and returning it to her clutch. When her eyes lifted, they met Jake’s before flitting away to focus on the floral centerpiece. 

The same thing happened as they ate dinner. Jake had never realized how hot it could be to watch someone eat… that lipstick smudge on her water glass. When they cleared away dinner and cut the birthday cake, he grabbed them both a piece and fantasized about smearing the icing on her collarbone and licking it off. 

The DJ kicked off the music, and as soon as Bug put down her fork, he pushed to his feet and circled the table. “Dance with me?” he asked, extending his hand over her shoulder. She ignored him, as expected. Her skin was warm under his palm as he rested his hand on her shoulder and leaned to whisper in her ear. “One dance, and I’ll leave you alone. Promise.” Bug sighed, and Jake grinned when she grabbed her napkin from her lap and threw it onto the table. He pulled her chair back, chuckling when she ignored his offered hand. 

“One dance,” she said, holding up a finger before walking to the dance floor. She waited expectantly for him at the side, and he took her hand, leading her to the middle of the floor where they could hide in the crowd from their friend’s prying eyes. But even as she stepped into his arms, one hand resting on his shoulder and the other in his, she didn’t look at him. 

“Bug, I’m sorry.” When she didn’t say anything, he forged ahead. “The bet was stupid, and I made it before I really knew you.”

“When?” 

“What?”

“When did you make the bet?” 

“The Fourth of July.” He watched her lips press into a thin line as they swayed to an old song, her eyes fixed on his medals rather than meeting his eyes. Jake sighed, “We were drunk, and it was stupid, and I don’t even know why I did it. And it was before I knew that you and Yale even knew each other before this. But, what I’m tryin’ to say is that I’m sorry that I made the stupid bet, but I’m also not.”

Bug pulled them to a stop, anger flashing in her eyes as she finally looked at him. “You’re not sorry?”

“No,” he smiled, applying gentle pressure to her lower back and pulling her closer. She resisted. “You promised me one dance, Bug, and it’s not over.” Reluctantly, she stepped closer and resumed their awkward dance. “I’m not sorry, at least not entirely, because I probably wouldn’t have tried so hard to talk to you if I hadn’t been tryin’ to set you up with Rooster. You’re not the easiest person to get to know.” 

“Are you blaming me?” 

“No, just stating a fact. You avoided talking to any of us about anything other than work. If it wasn’t for the bet, I wouldn’t have gotten to know you - I’d only know Ladybug.” 

“I am Ladybug.” 

Jake smiled while saying her name, his hand lifting from her waist to trace the scar on her arm. “You’re more than Ladybug. Ladybug doesn’t read sexy books over lunch or think that apples, cheese, and crackers are a meal. She doesn’t play softball or answer her friend’s call even knowin’ he’s probably gonna hurt her. That’s all you, honey. Ladybug’s great, but I think I’m fallin’ in love with you.” 

Bug stopped for a second time, her red lips falling open as she looked at him. “What?” 

“I said, I think I’m fallin’ in love with you.” 

“Even though you were trying to set me up with your friend?” she asked after a moment. 

“If you think about it, I wasn’t really trying too hard.”

“You’ve been ignoring me for weeks.”

“‘Cause I didn’t want to see you with him, but I want you to be happy. And if you’d be happier with Rooster, then I guess I can figure out some way to break up him and - ”

“Are you serious right now?” her voice was getting louder, and they were starting to draw attention. Noticing this, Bug squared her shoulders and stepped out of his arms, storming off of the floor. Jake hurried behind her, heart in his throat as they exited the ballroom and entered the hotel lobby.

“Bug, please - ” Spinning on her heel, she marched back toward him and poked his chest. 

“You… you jackass!” 

“I’m hearing that a lot tonight.”

“You’re an idiot!”

“Heard that, too.” 

“You don’t tell someone that you ‘think you’re falling in love with them’” - she made air quotes while throwing his words back at him - “and then try to set them up with your friend.” 

“How am I supposed to know? This is the first time I’m doing this.” 

“This is - ” Bug paused, ruby lips falling open as she let out a little gasp. Crossing her arms, she cocked a hip and pinned him with a glare. “This is the first time I think I’m falling in love with someone, too, and even I know that, you idiot. It’s pretty common sense.” 

Jake’s grin was blinding, and he hesitantly reached out to wrap a hand around her waist, stepping into her space. Bug tilted her chin to meet his eyes, her lip twitching as she fought a smile. “You think you’re fallin’ in love with me, Bug?” 

“Maybe.”

“Well… maybe I don’t think I’m falling in love with you. Maybe I know I’m in love with you. I think,” he leaned down, his breath ghosting over her face as he stared at her lips. “I think maybe I knew when you nearly burned in.” 

“Maybe I knew it then, too.” 

Jake’s nose brushed hers before he kissed her. This time, it was soft. Teasing. Testing the waters. They pulled away to stare at one another for a heartbeat before Bug threw her arms around his neck and pulled him down to lick into his mouth. Jake smiled, his arms going around her waist and pulling her close, his fingers curling around the nape of her neck. And then, just like before, they were interrupted. But this time, it was by a catcall. 

“Finally!” Rooster laughed. 

“Get a room, you two!” Phoenix ordered before kissing her girlfriend’s cheek. 

Bug and Jake looked at one another, and she reached up to wipe the red lipstick from his mouth. Her cheeks were flushed, and she couldn’t quite meet his eyes when she said, “I do have one… a room. Here. If you wanted to.”

“Fuck, honey,” he groaned. “Let’s go.” Her blush deepened as she pushed onto her toes to whisper in his ear.

“So… you should know that I’ve only slept with one person. And only once. Just in case it’s not…so you don’t get your expectations too high.” 

Jake stared down at her, forcing his jaw not to drop. “Bug, please tell me he at least made you cum.” Rather than answer, she pressed her lips together tightly, and he groaned again. 

“I have so much to teach you, honey. Starting tonight. Let’s go.”

“My key’s in my clutch. At the table.” 

“Right.” He nodded, bending to kiss her again. 

“It might, um…have been a while. But I’ve read a lot,” Bug said, as though trying to assure them both. And Jake couldn’t help but smile at that.

“I know. I’ve read some of your sexy books. Want me to reenact them for you?” Bug’s breath caught, and he chuckled, pecking her lips. “Be a good girl, and wait here for me, honey.”

There was some good-natured teasing when Jake hurried to their table and snatched Bug’s clutch. He ignored it all, wanting to get back to her quickly.

But he did detour to the cake table, picking a slice with extra frosting. 

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

Author's Note: This one really got away with me, and I was shocked that I managed to write it in about 2 days. A huge thanks goes to May for beta'ing this for me and making sure that Jake still felt like Bug was interested in Rooster throughout.

I love the idea of Jake reading romance novels because his girlfriend likes them. Three that were mentioned here (in order) are: Wicked Beauty by Katee Roberts, The Kiss Quotient by Helen Hoang, and The Bromance Bookclub by Lyssa Kay Adams. You know that he would absolutely lovingly tease his partner about reading them, and then be blown away by just how much one can learn from reading smutty literature. There are definitely some book shopping trips he'll be treating Bug to in the future.

Ladybugs have historically been seen as a sign of good luck. I liked the idea of Reader having that as a callsign, as she wouldn't have anything to do with piloting the plane, but could serve as good luck for her pilot. Even in scrapes, she's there to help them out. For Risk, on his first carrier landing, she was able to keep him calm, and later in the accident, she was able to keep him stable until help arrived. For Omaha, she was able to snap him out of G-LOC by screaming his name. And for Jake? Well, ladybugs can also mean luck in love and expanding family.

A bit about the trauma in the story. Bug would meet the diagnostic criteria for post-trumatic stress disorder (PTSD), and probably should have been grounded for a little while. But disassociation from the traumatic event can help someone compartmentalize their trauma and get back to work (can attest to this from personal experience) - she was medically cleared by the flight surgeon and was back on duty. As of this posting, the Air Force is the only branch with a policy that allows aviators to get 60 days of mental health treatment without needing a return to duty waiver/clearance. Bug would have benefited from treatment, which might have further delayed her PCS and made Yale not hate her. She's not "cured" of PTSD by falling in love, but hopefully there's some therapy in her future to help her process the traumatic events. As for the G-LOC, there is no way for a WSO to take control of the aircraft, and the F-18s haven't been retrofitted with the technology to have autopilot reengage when the pilot loses control.

Risk would undergo the medical discharge process - "med board" - to be separated from the military with an honorable discharge following the accident, as he would be unable to preform the duties of his Military Occupational Specialty (MOS). I don’t imagine him as a bad guy, trying to hurt Bug, but traumatic brain injuries (TBIs) can cause emotional dysregulation and aggression that can be hard to deal with.

If you're interested, this is the dress that I imagined Bug wearing to the Navy ball (not representative of how I think she looks).

Thank you so much for reading this. If you would like to be added to my tag list, please fill out my tag list form (hyperlinked).

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[a-killer-obsession]

Afab reader B number 19 please

Sweet Little Cream Donut

Prompt: Breeding

Additional Tags: afab reader, she/her pronouns, established relationship (kinda?), body worship, size difference, oral (reader receiving), loss of virginity, squirting, creampie, cockwarming

WC: 2.5k

Event Masterlist

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

“I don't know what to do anymore, Brulee,” you sighed to your sister-in-law, blowing on your tea before taking a sip of the hot sweet liquid. You'd spent a great deal of time with her since your wedding to Katakuri three months ago, and you felt comfortable talking to her about anything and everything. She loved her brother and wanted him to be happy, just as much as she wanted you to be happy with him.

“Have you talked to him about it?” She asked, stirring sugar into her tea, making small clinks as the spoon rubbed against the edge of the porcelain cup.

“I mean, I mentioned a few times that Mama has been more than enthusiastic about grandchildren,” you placed your teacup back down on the gold rimmed plate, “but he just gives a huff and changes the subject. He barely even kisses me. Maybe I'm not pretty enough for him”

“That is certainly not the case!” Brulee exclaimed, “sister, you are beautiful! A woman truly worthy of my darling big brother! I think perhaps… perhaps he's scared of hurting you? Hes always been a gentle soul”

“Mama chose me for a reason,” you pouted, “my people are larger than most, stronger, and she knew how much I want children when she picked me, he should know I'm more than capable of holding my own. Mama isn't stupid, she didn't pick some flimsy human for a reason”

“Maybe it's time to lay it on thick then,” Brulee suggested with a mischievous smile, “buy some pretty new lingerie, sweet perfume, light some candles, seduce him”

“Brulee!” You giggled, not expecting the woman to be so forward, “shopping trip then?”

“Shopping trip!” She clapped excitedly.

⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆

Katakuri was due in at any moment. He often had a meeting with Mama after dinner, as a Sweet Commander and the Minister of Flour it was important that he and the other ministers and commanders meet a few times a week to keep up to date with the happenings in Totto Land. Tonight was one of those meetings, so you'd had time to prepare for your grand scheme of seduction. Shaving every hair from your body, applying perfumes and lotions that smelt like baked goods, putting on a pretty new set of pink lingerie - a lace trimmed mesh mini dress and matching thong - and setting the mood with vanilla candles and soft music. Everything was ready and you paced the room nervously before finally settling on the edge of the bed, waiting for the heavy footsteps in the hall that signalled the approach of your husband.

Your legs rubbed together in anticipation, losing your virginity to such a large man was no small event, but it should have happened months ago on your wedding night, and you were more than ready for him to finally claim you. Not to mention, you were eager to present Mama with a grandchild - you wanted to fit in here, but the longer you went without signs of pregnancy, the more she subconsciously frowned in your presence. She was an intimidating woman, you wanted to please her.

Heavy footsteps and the unlatching of the door alerted you to Katakuri's arrival, and you stood tall as he entered. Your kind were large, yourself standing at 9 feet tall, but Katakuri was a giant of a man, almost twice your size at 16 feet. You picked at the cuticles of your fingers nervously as you waited for him to latch the door and turn to you, his expression unreadable as he noticed you standing there and took in your appearance and the romantic atmosphere. He removed his scarf slowly, he'd shown you his true face before the wedding, not wanting to force you into a marriage if you were going to be scared of him, and his nose wiggled as he smelt the sweet scents in the air.

“What is this?” He asked nervously.

“This is… me… asking you to take me to bed,” you tried to feign confidence but it was hard to form a coherent sentence or keep his eye. He languidly closed the space between you and fiddled with the hem of your dress, rubbing the thin silky fabric between his thumb and index.

“I take you to bed every night,” he stated.

“Kat… you know that's not what I mean,” your hand laid against his bare chest where his vest lay open, tracing one of the bright pink tattooed stripes that ran down it. He shivered under your touch and quickly took a step back, your hand falling limp to your side.

“I can't,” he said softly.

“Why not?” You pouted, feeling hurt at his rejection, “am I not pretty enough? Do you not want to give me children? Are you… are you ashamed of me?” A tear formed and rolled down your cheek as you admitted to the insecurities.

He was back in front of you in a flash, wiping the tear gently with his thumb, his large hand easily encompassing the entire side of your face as you leaned into it and looked at him longingly. “That's not it! You're beautiful, so unbearably stunning,” he quickly assured you, “I… I can barely keep myself from you, night after night, but I… I can't… I don't want to hurt you”

You held his hand to your face and blinked up at him, his sad expression looking out of place on his strong features. “You won't hurt me Kat, you have to trust that I'd tell you if you were hurting me. I'm not glass, I'm strong, Mama chose me for a reason. You won't hurt me. I want you, Katakuri, please”

His breath hitched as you found a new wave of confidence, running your hand up his chest and up to his jaw, tracing one of his sharp teeth with your fingertip, showing him how unafraid you were. Your hand ran back down as you circled him, Katakuri turning with you as though it were a dance, till his back was to the bed. You pressed against his chest and he let you move him, falling to sit on the bed as you climbed into his lap to straddle it. Raised on your knees you could just barely reach his mouth, and you pressed a hot, desperate kiss onto him, a small whine escaping him as you forced your tongue past his sharp teeth, wet muscles meeting and crashing against each other for the first time. You pushed the vest from his shoulders, letting it fall to the bed, and ran your hands over his body, guiding his hands to your waist before pulling him down by his neck so you could lower yourself to grind against his forming erection.

Your tongue ran up the scar on the side of his face till your mouth met his ear, tugging on the lobe with your teeth before whispering to him. “Breed me, Katakuri”

He made a possessive growl before grabbing your waist and flipping you both so you laid underneath him. His strong hands made quick work of your pretty new lingerie, tearing them from your body and revealing your soft bare skin that prickled with goosebumps as the cool night air touched it. Cool air replaced by hot wet saliva, his thick tongue ran over you, eagerly tasting and devouring every inch of you, making you moan and writhe as he sucked and nipped at your more sensitive spots, leaving marks over your entire body. The only place he avoided was your needy centre, teasing you and working you up as he touched and licked at your arms and legs and torso and neck, till finally he ran his tongue up your thigh and pushed your legs apart, groaning as he ran a fat stripe up your dripping virgin cunt. This flavour was all for him, nobody else would ever taste such delights, he thought to himself as he devoured you greedily.

You moaned and tugged at his short purple hair as he lapped and sucked at your sensitive pussy, rolling your clit with his tongue, his breath hot and vibrating against you as he let out satisfied groans and held your thighs around his face. He looked up at you with hungry eyes that had your hips rolling on their own accord, unintentionally riding his tongue as he grinned against you, careful to control your movements so as not to catch your soft plush thighs against his sharp teeth. You practically screamed from pleasure as his tongue bullied its way inside you, head falling to the pillow with a string of unabashed moans and back arching as he thrust it in and out of your tight entrance, before you suddenly shook and came on his tongue without warning. Katakuri made a contented growl and cleaned your release with his tongue, savouring your taste on it, his eyes closed and face relaxed as he drank you.

“So sweet,” he sighed, running his tongue through your folds once more like he couldn't get enough, “you're not ready for me yet though, I'll have to stretch that sweet tight hole a little more”

You moaned and bucked as he slid two thick fingers inside you, pumping you and scissoring his fingers to stretch you out, taking his time to get you open enough for him. He added a third, his tongue returning to your clit and distracting you from the slight sting of the stretch as he added a forth, the lewd wet squelch of your pussy almost deafening over the soft romantic music as he finger fucked you with increasing speed. One last flick of your clit with his tongue, and you were gushing around his hand, his brows raising in surprise at the volatile release before quickly lapping at it, his hand wet against your thigh as he held you tight to his face and groaned against you.

You were shaking and panting as he finally let your legs go, licking his lips and watching while your hips rolled off the bed, desperate for him to fill you. “Kat, please,” you moaned, “I want you so bad”

“I know my sweet,” he stood at the end of the bed and unzipped his pants teasingly slowly, kicking off his shoes and sliding his pants down till his monstrous cock sprang free, your breath catching in your throat at the sheer size of it. Your thighs rubbed together anxiously, wondering if you could even fit him all inside you. “I can't wait to fill you with my seed,” he purred as he climbed back onto the bed, your eyes greedily scanning every taut muscle that formed his large body, every tight corded bulge and curve that you craved to run your tongue over. You couldn't help but reach between your bodies and take his cock in your hand, so hot and hard, your hand far too small to wrap around it. He groaned and bucked into your palm, precum dripping from the tip as you stroked him experimentally.

“So big,” you whined, “want you to fill me up”

“I will, my sweet,” removing your hand gently as he began to position himself between your legs. Your eyes rolled as his fat tip pressed against your soaked entrance, his precum beading against you and adding to the lubrication. “You're gonna look so good when you're fat and round with my babies,” he purred, pressing into you devastatingly slow, your nails sinking into his forearms to make deep half moons as your pussy stretched around him. “There's a good girl,” he groaned as he fit more and more of his cock inside you, “so tight, so desperate to milk me for all my seed, I'm gonna give it all to you sweet girl”

He grunted and breathed heavy against your shoulder as he bottomed out, feeling the bulge of his own cock inside you as his abdomen pressed against yours. Your thighs shook at the sheer fullness, his cock pressing against every sensitive part of your walls and stretching you impossibly wide, every tiny movement making you whine as he collected himself, trying his best to hold back from immediately slamming into your virgin pussy.

After an age he slowly slid back out, only his tip remaining inside you before penetrating you again. He set a slow, deep pace, your thighs wrapping as best you could around him, pressing your heels to his ass and urging him to go faster. “More,” you whined, “more, please, breed me”

He let out a low groan and nipped your shoulder with his sharp teeth before grabbing your hips and slamming into you. You let out a shrill pleasured scream with every thrust, the entire island would no doubt hear you as he fucked you hard, your smaller body jostling back and forth with every heavy pounding of his fat cock. You screamed as an orgasm ripped through you, Katakuri grabbing the headboard for support as he groaned at the added tightness, never letting up on his brutal pace.

“Yes yes yes yes,” you cried, seeing stars and making deep scratches on his back and chest, back arching of the bed as he growled down at you, watching your tits bounce with every deep thrust, watching the way the membrane around your entrance pushed pulled with every movement, refusing to let his cock go, begging for him to release inside you. He held himself pack, his sheer willpower keeping him on the precipice, determined to make you cum one more time before he would reward himself.

“Gonna- gonna cum again-” you whined, barely able to speak through your panting, eyes glazed over, expression pained with a goofy, fucked out smile as your husband fucked the coherence out of you. Having only ever expressed orgasms by your own hand, you were in absolute nirvana, body tingling with the effects of three orgasms and quickly feeling the approach of a forth. “Want- want your cum- hnng- fil-ll me up, p-please”

“Gonna breed you good baby,” Katakuri groaned, headboard creaking under the strain as his thrusts became erratic and desperate, “fuck, gonna cum too, fuck”

The tightening of your pussy as you came put him over the edge, headboard giving out and snapping violently as he let out a roar and spilled out inside you, the sheer volume of his pent up release combined with his thick cock making cum immediately drip from your hole, Katakuri making final thrusts as your orgasm settled. He stayed inside you as he stilled, pulling back only a little as his cock twitched and made one last deposit, keeping himself as a plug so you had no choice but to accept his cum. You panted hard, laying against the soft mattress, willing your body to open up and accept his seed, willing it to take and make you round with his child.

“I love you,” he finally stuttered through heavy breaths, throwing broken pieces of headboard to the floor, sweeping away wood fragments with his hand and laying beside you, pulling you with him, cock still warm deep inside your cunt. “So beautiful… so sweet for me..”

“I love you too Kat,” you panted, arms wrapping around his neck and face nestling against his while rouge beads of cum slid down your thighs. “But maybe we should invest in a stronger bed,” you giggled.

[navybrat817]

Could use a cuddle with Bucky. 😭

Me, too, nonnie.

Open Your Eyes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You aren't ready to face the day.

Word Count: Over 700

Warnings: Slight angst, comfort, insecurities, doubt, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: For @flashfictionfridayofficial 's prompt: Open Your Eyes. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

It was difficult to rise and meet the day. Heavy were the burdens and challenges that awaited you. As much as the rays of sunshine beckoned for you to get up as the warmth touched your face, you refused to budge. Staying in bed was comforting. Easier. 

If sleep gave life to your dreams, why face reality?

Why did you have to get up?

“Open your eyes.”

You wished you could explain why it hurt to do so. Why it felt like you might break if you tried. You wanted some sort of relief. Answers to questions you hadn't begun to ask. You wanted to regain some sense of control and not feel like the build up inside of you would explode. 

Would it be so wrong to let it out?

“Please,” the gentle voice urged, patiently waiting. 

A man who would wait forever for you if you asked.

A pair of blue eyes bore into yours when you finally complied with his command. His loving gaze lifted some of the weight that settled in your chest. His smile alleviated it more, making it easier to take your next breath. He was one of the reasons why facing reality was better than any dream.

“There she is,” he whispered, cupping your cheek as you blinked the remaining sleep away. “Hey.”

“Hey, Bucky,” you whispered back, leaning into his touch before he brought his hand to your waist and pulled you closer. “You’re here.”

You half expected him to be on the floor with a pillow and sheet. Sleep wasn't easy for him to come by, especially on the nights when nightmares plagued him. He tossed and turned and had a hard time getting back to sleep when he abruptly woke up. The last thing he wanted to do was disturb your slumber. 

But you did your best to ease him through by being there. You took care of him. And some days he took care of you. Give and take. That’s what relationships should be. 

“I’ll always be here when you wake up,” he said when your eyes misted over. He pulled you closer, a look of desperation crossing his face when he saw your tears. “Are you okay?”

Words died on your tongue as you opened your mouth. You wanted to tell him you didn't know why today felt so heavy, but his presence made it better. You wished you could explain why you were pulling apart at the seams, but that his touch helped stitch you back together. He helped you without trying. 

When you were wide awake later, you’d remind him of how much you appreciated him. 

“I don't know,” you answered. 

He let out a breath. It was an answer he usually gave you, not the other way around. “Come here.”

He pressed a kiss on the top of your head when you laid it against his chest. You held him like this from time to time. You’d urge him to listen to the beat of your heart as you ran your fingers through his hair. It calmed him. 

Like the steady beat of his heart calmed you. 

But fear crept in like a slow poison when he gave you no reason to feel that way. It infected your confidence and securities with doubt. What if you were too much for him? What if he chose to walk away? Falling in love could feel terrifying when you didn't know where you’d land. 

As if he sensed your insecurity, he placed another kiss to the top of your head and renewed your faith that you’d be there to catch each other. 

“I love you and I’m thankful I have you by my side,” Bucky said, further affirming that he wouldn't give up on you for any reason. 

Just like you’d never give up on him. 

“I love you and I’m thankful for you, too,” you said, a tear sliding down your cheek before you hid your face in his chest. “But can we stay like this a bit longer? I know we need to get up, but I’m not quite ready.”

“We can stay here as long as you’d like,” Bucky promised. 

And when you were ready, you'd face the day together. 

Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[lostinforestbound]

Could I request headcanons for Cal, Rolan, and Zevlor reacting to his non-tiefling gender neutral s/o asking if he could wrap his tail around their waist or leg when they're with him in private?

Aww what a cute idea!! I loved writing this one! This may be a little shorter though due to the nature of the prompt.

Cal, Rolan, and Zevlor Wrapping Their Tails Around Their Non-Tiefling Partners

Cal

This man is already having some trouble keeping his tail to himself. Sometimes it has a mind of its own and is already trying to wrap around his partner.

He's not sure if having his tail around them is okay yet so he settled for his hands. Hands in theirs, on their hip, on their thigh when he wants to tease...gods, he wishes he can use his tail more.

Sometimes he catches the spade of his tail gently tapping against their leg or ankle, and he immediately retracts it with an awkward apology.

He always tries to laugh it all off, but part of him is honestly ready to beg. Is it strange to want this so badly?

When they finally bring it up, he’s both excited and nervous. What if they don’t like it? Would they want him to stop? Is he already too touchy?

He’s relieved when they say they like it, they just prefer it in private. He can do that no problem! He starts wrapping his tail around their ankle or calf first, starting slow.

He works his way up to their thighs and waist, using it to tug them closer. He loves that he gets to use this now, so he takes full advantage.

Rolan

Rolan is the type to keep to himself, but much like his brother, his tail has a mind of its own. He hates it very much, since sometimes it gives away how he feels.

With his partner, he still tends to keep to himself. But his tail still reacts to anything they do or just their presence alone. It’ll stand on attention any time they walk into a room.

He thinks it’s a little pathetic, his lack of control over his tail, but his partner doesn’t seem to mind it.

When his partner asks him if he could be more touchy with his tail, he’s surprised. He’s only ever saw it as the nuisance, but they like it??

Reluctantly, he does so, and it shocks him how much he enjoys it. Being able to touch them in this way is intimate, and it makes him feel closer to them.

His favorite place to wrap around is either waist. It’s a sure way to keep them close, and he likes the way they stroke along the length of it.

He’s still that stubborn wizard we know, but now he’s starting to open up just a little bit more. All hell will break loose as soon as he starts to tease.

Zevlor

Zevlor is experienced, though he doesn’t really use his tail that often. He’s more of a hand holder than a tail holder.

His tail isn’t as reactive as other Tieflings either. He’s a Hellrider, or at least was. He learned how to control the emotions on his face and tail.

It still idly sways about when he’s calm, but it never reaches or grabs for his partner, not even instinctually. He knows his partner notices, but he never saw it as a big deal.

When they ask why, he’s oddly surprised. He didn’t realize they were thinking about it so much, so he explains he’s just not really reactive with his tail.

When they ask if his tail could hold them one night, he’s even more surprised. Was this something they’ve always wanted? Either way, his tail winds around their thigh.

He ends up loving this simple act of intimacy, especially when he finds he can’t use his hands at that moment, like when cooking with them.

He finds himself using his tail much more often, even if it’s to playfully smack them. More than anything though, he’s glad that something so simple makes them happy.

[mechaknight-98]

Festival Prep (NSFW) FT Sakura Miyawaki

Authors note: An Epilogue to festivities and technically a prologue to another piece that hasn’t been named yet. Enjoy needy Breedy Kura

Part I

The next day, the two woke up to a loud yell, signaling the return of the other Fimmies.

"Yunjin, chill out. You know Sakura is still asleep," Porter, Yunjin’s boyfriend, said as Yunjin rushed through the dorm.

"But I've missed my favorite Unnie’s birthday, and I need to make sure she's okay. Good Morning Kkura unnie ah, holy shit…" Yunjin’s outburst was cut short when she saw the young man lying shirtless next to Sakura. He raised himself to face the voices he heard, with Daigo's still-closed eyes turning towards them before gently patting Sakura awake.

As Sakura woke up, she realized they had slept through their planned breakfast and second date as a couple. She noticed the shocked expressions of Yunjin, Porter, Chaewon, Aaron, and Kazuha standing at the door.

Confused, Sakura asked, "What is it?" Everyone pointed to Daigo, whose eyes were still closed as he adjusted to being awake. Sakura turned to see Daigo and her face flushed red.

“Mrs. Miyawaki,” Porter teased.

"I can explain," Sakura said. Daigo, now fully awake, looked amused as Sakura tried to explain their late date and why he stayed over.

"Right," Yunjin said sarcastically before turning to Daigo. "So, what's your name, tough guy?"

"Oh, my name is Daihirou Godbolt, but everyone calls me Daigo," he replied.

"Your first name is Daihirou?" Sakura was surprised, having always thought Daigo was his first name. Daigo explained that it was a family tradition.

“Daigo… I like it,” Chaewon said cutely, causing Sakura to feel a strange pang of jealousy.

"Daigo, wait, are you the Warlock main who played Destiny 2 with Kura?" Kazuha asked, vaguely recognizing the game.

Daigo nodded, and everyone seemed to recognize him.

“Well, I never expected you to be so…” Yunjin hesitated before settling on "tall," causing Sakura to feel a protective rage over Daigo, despite his towering presence. Daigo remained oblivious to the tension.

“So, besides playing games with Kura Noona, what do you do for work?” Porter asked.

“Oh, that's classified. I'm not being hyperbolic; it's classified, got a clearance and everything,” Daigo explained, prompting chuckles.

“Okay, well then we'll leave you two alone now,” Chaewon asserted, ushering everyone out. Finally, Sakura's tension eased as she turned to her boyfriend.

"Ya, why did you let Chaewon look at you like that?" Kura asked annoyed. Daigo squinted, confused, but before Sakura could react, Chaewon walked in, reminding them of their plans to meet up with their friends to celebrate Sakura’s birthday. Sakura nodded and shooed Daigo away.

As he got ready to leave, Sakura walked by and playfully slapped his butt, smiling as she enjoyed the jiggle. "I'll see you later, stud," she said, and Daigo rolled his eyes but kissed her on the cheek before departing. Sakura smiled as he left, but her smile faded when Eunchae entered the dorm.

“Are you Kura’s boyfriend?” Eunchae asked teasingly. Not feeling threatened, Daigo replied, “Yes, I am,” which excited Eunchae, who eagerly prompted him to tell her everything.

“Well, first things first, my name is Daigo,” he said, and Eunchae recognized the name, squealing with excitement.

“You played Destiny with Kura,” she exclaimed, pointing at his Sunshot tattoo. Daigo, defeated, admitted, “Destiny 2,” as Eunchae teased them about their shared interest.

“So, what else is interesting about you, Mr. Daigo?” she asked with a mischievous smile. Daigo hesitated but decided to share that he was a paranormal investigator for Fortune 500 companies. Eunchae looked confused, causing Daigo to laugh.

“I hunt monsters,” he clarified, though Eunchae still seemed bewildered. Daigo found it easier to open up to Eunchae, seeing her as an annoying little sister, and shared some truths about himself.

As Daigo engaged with Eunchae, Kura observed him and found his mannerisms endearing, despite knowing he was a bit unusual. She particularly loved his awkward high-five as she watched them interact. After Eunchae left, she bumped into Sakura.

“Oh, Unnie, I met your boyfriend. He's weird but funny. You should have him around more,” Eunchae teased, eliciting an eye roll from Sakura.

“No,” she said firmly before walking back out to Daigo who be as prepping to leave. Sakura felt the urge to pounce on him and fuck his brains out in their living room right then but resisted. Sakura didn't know what was going on with her but for her and Daigo there was this unrelenting need to fuck the other into a stupor, but that would have to wait.

"Hey, Daigo, can you walk with me to the restaurant?" Sakura asked shyly. Daigo smiled and replied, "Sure thing, Kura, technically it's still your birthday. At least according to Freedom Time."

As the couple walked to the restaurant, Sakura expressed her gratitude, saying, "Thanks for coming, Daigo."

"Well, I missed a quarter-century, so I had to make it up to my Megastar idol friend," Daigo replied, a hint of remorse coloring his usually dry wit.

Curious, Sakura asked, "Hey, how did you get my address?"

"Oh, I have my ways," Daigo answered cryptically.

"That's kinda creepy," Sakura remarked.

Daigo stopped and turned to face her. "Kura, we've sent letters, games, money, addresses, and God knows what else to each other over the years. At this point, if we gave each other any more information about the other, we would have to be legally classified as married."

Sakura laughed as memories flooded back. "Oh yeah, that's right," she chuckled. "If we were to get married though, you're taking my last name," she teased.

Daigo knew Sakura was joking but a fire lit inside him to put his breeding bitch in her place

“No, I am not. We are either doing both of our names hyphenated or you're taking mine. I don't want my breeding bitch having ties to another man even if it's her father or grandfather. I want her to be mine and mine alone” Daigo said confidently and with authority but also a cheeky smile to let Kura know he was joking (somewhat). He wasn't loud about it either. He spoke just enough so that Sakura could hear him and his tone. The change in his tone was instantly felt by Sakura though who felt a burning heat in her core. It was so intense she almost pounced on him right then and there. She had to take a short break then said to Daigo

“Babe you can't be saying things like.” Sakura’s tone and body language were needy.

“Why does my breeding bitch not get enough last night?” Daigo's voice echoed his tone from the previous night as he teased driving Kura’s neediness to new heights. She glared at him and then continued walking despite desperately wanting him to take her then and there.

Daigo teases Kura with, “Don’t worry I fill you up after this lunch of yours.” Daigo said calmly. Kura turned to her stud and rubbed her thighs together

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Kura said in response her body screaming at her to take this man down an alley and do terrifying things to his body, but in classic Daigo nonchalance he laughed it off. After that, the couple arrive at the restaurant. They were in the first group to arrive along with Yujin Wonyoung and Eunbi. The three strangers stared at Daigo suspiciously. Daigo oblivious to their attention waves kura off and walks away.

“Hey, Unnie who was that?” Yujin asked intrigued about him,

“Oh, that was Daigo, my gaming buddy and boyfriend. Sakura said with a smile. The girls look at her with surprised looks. Eunbi laughed and said

“Well, you picked a cute one Kura. Would you mind sharing him?” Eunbi praised and joked. Sakura didn’t appreciate the way Eunbi looked at her stud.

“Well Unnie I do have excellent taste and I will not be sharing because he is mine,” the biting undertone of Sakura’s voice was surprising to all present. She resented how possessive she felt over him but any thought directed to him and her separating ways drove her ballistic. Eunbi Yujin and Wonyoung also noticed this and made notes not to joke about stealing her boyfriend.

Kura arrived at the hotel seething. She hated the way her body made her feel when the girls saw Daigo. Couldn’t her sisters she that he was hers? They looked at her stud like a piece of meat. It made her so angry she just wanted to fuck Daigo in front of them and show them he was her stud alone. Thinking about fucking him made her wet and hot so she began to take off her outer layers as she neared Daigo’s Door. When he opened the door she threw her top at him.

“Strip now.” was her simple command. She closed the door and locked it behind her. She quickly disrobed as Daigo wasn't Far behind. Daigo saw fury and lust in Sakura’s eyes, and despite his understanding of her neediness he checked in with her emotionally first

“Kura are you okay,” Daigo asks. Kura breathes in deep before pinning him to the bed and tearing off his clothes.

“Your breeding bitch needs her stud,” she says raspily as she lines her entrance with his rod. As Kura sinks further into Daigo’s cock. Daigo groans as Kura rides him. Her breasts sway mesmerizingly in the amber light of the golden hour

“Don’t those sluts get it? This dick: mine. This ass: mine. This fucking heart: mine” kura says taking a break as she grips the various pieces of Daigo she was referring to. She rides Daigo slowly hoping to draw his biggest load yet out of him. Despite being on the pill she held this almost insatiable desire to be bred. Her walls tightened around Daigo as she thought about him filling her up causing him to moan loudly, “That’s it, stud moan for your breeding bitch tell me how good it feels and how my pussy is so much better than those other sluts.” Sakura cooed

“Fuck Kura this tight pussy is gonna make me cum.” Daigo warned.

“Do it. Fill me. Fill me so much that my womb can’t help but swell with your children. Fuck a baby no twins into my cunt.” Sakura demanded, and a familiar switch flipped in Daigo’s mind as he lifted Kura and began slow, methodical yet powerful thrusts to match her riding.

“You’re so hot you know that. When I walked with you today I had to hold back my urges just to fuck you in front of everyone to show them who you belong to. Men and women want you but you’re mine you know that.” Daigo stated and Sakura moaned

“Oh God yes.” She said as her stud reassured her. Daigo went in for another kiss as his mind only became focused on Kura and ducking here senseless his skin had gone numb except for the pleasure their union gave. Sakura picks up her pace as Does Daigo as they near their mutual release.

“Please, please, fill me up. I need your cum. I need it. Make me pregnant so everyone knows I’m yours. Please Stud. Breed Our bitch. Sakura pleaded giving into the screaming demands of her needy body

“My goodness such a needy bitch. Is your need for my cum more than your career love.”

“Please give me a litter of pups. Make your breeding bitch a mommy.” Sakura moans as she hits her peak. This combination sends Daigo over the edge as he unloads a hot load into her womb. Both are too far gone to worry about the consequences already caught in the riptide of a breeding frenzy taking over their bodies as they quickly fuck and fuck and fuck until they fall asleep. The next day Kura wakes up to several texts and calls. She looks to Daigo who looks worn out, and kisses his cheek. He stirs awake barely.

“Morning stud. I have to go but thank you for satisfying me with my birthday.” Daigo nods

“Anytime Kura.”

Kura smiles, “see you at Coachella then?”

Daigo nods

[rileyslibrary]

Idk if you’re taking commissions rn but if you are.. Can you do one where reader acts as Ghosts weighted blanket after an anxiety attack? I feel like he’d love that xx

I’m glad you asked for the reader to act as Ghost’s weighted blanket instead of the other way around because that would be like being flattened by a road roller. Also, it is good to note that anxiety attacks are not the same as panic attacks. Yes, they do have some similarities, but they differ. This story is about Ghost having an anxiety attack, so bear that in mind.

And let’s be clear here: he would never explicitly ask you to do such a thing.

Never.

In fact, he would never ask you to do anything that would need you to be physically attached to him, neither from the front nor back. And his anxiety, if he ever suffers from it—which I’m sure he does because, come on, who doesn’t in our times, plus it is mentioned in the comics—he can cover it pretty well.

But it takes one to know one, right? You’ve had your fair share of anxiety attacks; you know they are not sudden or obvious. Instead, they develop slowly, gradually. That sense of general unease lingers, haunting him for weeks, even months. He doesn’t start trembling or shaking out of nowhere. This one is subtle but constant, like a leaky faucet that drips every few seconds. He feels restless and triggered by something vague that he can’t understand himself. All. The. Time.

He knows what a panic attack is; he experienced it multiple times before, mainly due to the nature of his work. But an anxiety attack? To a soldier who associated the word “attack” with something swift, sudden and imminent? There’s no such thing as an anxiety attack to him.

No.

He doesn’t comprehend this constant need to stay in control, why he’s always tense, his inability to take a full, deep breath. To him, that’s just how his body functions. Relaxation has been a foreign concept since childhood, so he’s normalised it. And he learned how to bear these symptoms instead of understanding what triggers them and learning how to alleviate them.

You’ve observed the pattern; he tends to become like that a few months before a mission, so you were able to put one and one together.

And one day, you find him lying face-down on the bed. Something prompts you, and you crawl on top of him. He shifts and asks you, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing”. Maybe he even tries to stand up while you are on his back, and you ask him to trust you; he’ll see.

He’s hesitant but obeys, though he’s more alert than ever now. You settle on top of him; he feels like he’s carved from wood, but not because of his physique. He’s tense. Stiff. Rigid. He’s afraid to let go. He holds his breath. His palms are pressed into the mattress beside his chest, ready to spring into a burpee and launch you back to where you came from.

Yet he doesn’t do it. Slowly his muscles relax under your body, and you feel him gradually—though clumsily—release tension in each body part; his legs, back, and then his shoulders. He finally lets go of the breath he’s been holding, replaced by a long exhale, his first in months. He places his hands on the sides of his body and lets out a repressed chuckle.

You ask him why he’s laughing, and he asks you to turn your face away because you are breathing into his ear. You comply.

With you not watching, he can finally close his eyes now. Good.

But even Ghost can take so much weight. Or so much intimacy. After a while, he snaps out of it, and he wriggles out from under you, letting you fall on the mattress, muttering a brief “Enough.” He doesn’t thank you for anything. What did you really do? Yes, he feels a little lighter, and his mind is clearer, but all you did was rest on him. That’s all. No need to thank you for that.

He needs it, though. Again and again. No, he doesn’t need you, of course. No, silly. He craves that sensation again—letting go. So whenever he feels overwhelmed, he awkwardly gestures toward his back and asks you sternly to “do that thing”. And you try to suppress your laughter and obey his command.

And slowly, just like his anxiety attacks come and go, he realises that it’s not just your weight on top of him that soothes him. It’s you, your will to make him feel better, your heart beating against his back, your form attached to him that makes all this chaos in the world feel a little bit more manageable than before.

[suashii]

— 𝒶 𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊 ౨ৎ

okkotsu yuta x f!reader. 3k wc. ﾉ smut ﾉ nsfw (mdni) ﾉ characters aged 21+ ﾉ oral (f!receiving) ﾉ face sitting :3 ﾉ clothed sex ﾉ subby yuta ﾉ reader is a little mean at moments ﾉ jealousy

you can’t say that you normally time how long it takes yuta to answer his door but you can say that it never takes this long. you add the oddity to your growing mental list titled: “ways yuta has changed since having sex for the first time.” it’s not one you ever saw yourself making but life has a way of throwing curveballs at people and this seems to be the one pitched to you. 

maybe yuta feels a bit different these days, but he’s still yuta. you’re sure you’ll get used to this new version of him soon enough.

a few more long seconds pass before you hear footsteps on the other side of the door and the barrier swings open, revealing yuta in all his glory.

“so you are home,” you comment with a smile upon finally being met with the sight of him. you don’t see him as often these days and the fact makes you sadder than you’d like to admit. so, you soak him in silently—the perpetual dark crescents beneath his eyes, the dark hair that hangs over the left side of his forehead, the way his hand almost unconsciously always finds its way to rest on his neck.

“sorry, sorry,” he apologizes with that familiar, sheepish grin of his. at least some things never change. “come in.”

the way he ushers you in and leads you back to his bedroom leads you to believe that you unintentionally interrupted him. he’s thumbing through the shirts in his closet when you come to stand by his bed and ask, “did i catch you in the middle of something?”

“oh, i’m heading out later so i was just getting ready.” you stop yourself from getting comfortable on his mattress at his response, although, when he turns around with a button up in hand, he uses his other to wave the misunderstanding away. “you can hang out though.”

“where are you going?” you ask him, plopping down on his bed. the scent lingering on his pillowcase and sheets is fresh like he just washed the bedding. however, you can still pick out a hint of the fragrance he wears regularly—warm and just a little woody.

“out for drinks,” he tells you. he’s in the process of trading out the t-shirt he’s been lounging in for the one he just picked out when your silence finally registers. a look over his shoulder at you is enough to tell him that the answer doesn’t satisfy you. the expression you’re wearing is telling—like you know there’s more that he chose not to say. it doesn’t seem like you’re backing down, either. with your silent prompting, he adds, “with a girl.”

“another date?” you have to stop yourself from frowning. “didn’t you go out with some other chick over the weekend?”

this is exactly why you haven’t seen him lately—he’s so busy meeting women and taking them home to fuck that he barely has time to spare for you. you’ve always thought that if he’s happy, you will be, too, but you have to admit that that isn’t the case. it’s worrying—how quickly he went from such a timid guy with no sexual experience to one who’s getting laid every three days.

you aren’t sure if this is coming from a place of concern for the girls crossing paths with him or if the whole fuckboy persona is beginning to become offputting to you, but you find yourself asking, “and they all know this is casual? that you’re seeing other girls two days after you hook up with them?”

“it sounds bad when you put it like that…” he starts, fingers fiddling with the buttons of his shirt. he’s only gotten around to fastening the bottom half of them, leaving the unblemished skin of his chest on display. “but yeah, we’re all on the same page.”

it’s still hard to believe that the shy little yuta you’ve come to know has turned over a promiscuous new leaf. it would be one thing if he simply lost his virginity and settled down with one partner but the extent of his sexual activities has truly surprised you. a question comes to mind—one that you normally wouldn’t ask your other friends but an important one considering yuta only just started sleeping around. “you’re getting tested, right?”

the question doesn’t phase him the way you think it will. you expect his eyes to widen and a furious red to overtake his cheeks and the tips of his ears but neither happens. he simply nods. “yes, of course.”

“and you’re wearing condoms?” you follow up.

“mm-mm.” he shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair, the dark strands falling back into place. “who knows how many women i’ve gotten pregnant by now.”

you can’t hide the disbelief that paints your features—the way your mouth hangs open and your unblinking gaze glued on the man before you. the shock of his words makes it difficult to find your voice and you’re sure it comes out higher than usual when you finally do. “yuta, you cannot—“

“i’m joking!” he exclaims with a wide smile. it shrinks into something smaller when he sees how serious you are. “yes, i am wearing condoms. jeez, what’s with the third degree?”

“it’s nothing, just wanna make sure you’re being safe.” you had planned on sticking around until it was time for him to leave but the thought of staying here while he’s getting ready to see—to fuck—someone else isn’t a pleasant one. you swing your legs over the side of his bed and stand up, making your way to the door. “i’m leaving. have fun fucking your flavor of the day.”

“wait, wait, wait.” yuta reaches out to grab your arm. his calloused grip is warm and firm, though, you’re sure you could pull away if you wanted to—he’s made sure of that much. despite that, you don’t. “you aren’t jealous, are you?”

“wow,” you scoff and turn to face him. there’s a sparkling glint in his eyes, one that has no place being there. “you have seriously let this inflate your ego.”

your comment doesn’t offend him, doesn’t hurt him the way you secretly wished it would. instead, his thumb glides against your wrist, runs over your pulse as he leans down closer to you. his voice comes out just above a whisper. “you aren’t curious? not even a little?”

“not everyone wants you, yuta.” you finally pull your hand back. “someone should really put you in your place.”

your words put a smile on his face. “are you volunteering?”

you have no idea what’s gotten into him, why he’s poking you like a bear and looking for a reaction, but his incessant goading has done its job. reflexively, almost without a thought, your hands come up to shove the broad chest before you. yuta stumbles back and his legs hit the mattress, causing him to fall back against it.

for the first time since you walked in, shock washes over yuta’s face the moment you begin to approach him. you find yourself crawling on the bed and straddling him, your hands pressing into the mattress on either side of his head. his lips are parted now and they only seal when he swallows the lump lodged in his throat.

it’s almost enough to make you laugh—how quickly his tune changed from confident to a bundle of nerves. you guess this has yet to happen to him, not being the one who’s calling the shots, that is. maybe you aren’t quite laughing, but it does make a grin stretch across your lips.

“what happened, yuta?” you ask him, sitting back on your calves. you lift your hand and bring it to his face, letting your finger drag along the curve of his jaw. it may just be your imagination, but you swear you can feel him shiver at your touch. “you were practically begging for this just a second ago. but if you changed your mind, i’ll get up and go.”

“no.” he shakes his head, the hair against his comforter growing frizzy with the careless movement. his hands come up to rest on your hips. “please stay.”

“ah-ah.” you knock his hands away and panic flashes over the man’s face. “no touching. you have to earn that.”

he swallows thickly and gazes up at you with curiosity swimming in his eyes. “h-how?”

“be good for me,” you tell him, the grin apparent in your voice. you brush the stray strands of hair away from his face before leaning down just like yuta had to you only moments earlier. this time, you’re sure that he shivers when your whispered voice tickles him as you ask, “tell me what you want me to do.”

your fingernails graze over his exposed skin—down his neck, over his shoulders, along his collarbone, anywhere you reach. it’s meant to be no more than a way to keep you busy while you wait for a reply from yuta, but he seems to enjoy the touch and the way goosebumps raise following the drag of your nails. although his quiet moans are easy on the ears, it’s a bit boring for your taste. your hand slows on its path in search of an answer. “hmm?”

you’re almost convinced that his voice is stuck in his throat when his request finally fills the air. “k-kiss me, please.”

you waste no time fulfilling his wish, brushing your lips over the same spots your fingers had just been, stopping every now and then to press them down in soft kisses. they grow deeper as you traverse against his smooth skin, love bites marking the once spotless canvas. by the time you make your way up to his lips, your kiss is hungry, almost desperate on your end and his—like the both of you have been silently waiting for this time to come.

as much as you enjoy yuta’s pillowy lips against yours and the way he melts for you when your tongue slips past them, you have a desire for more. you keep that bit to yourself so as not to feed yuta’s existing albeit dormant cockiness, though, you are willing to nudge him in the right direction.

you pull back from the kiss, still close enough that yuta can feel your breath when you speak. “don’t tell me all you want is for me to kiss you. there must be something else…”

there are a lot of things that come to mind, a lot of things yuta has dreamt of doing with you, but one rises above the rest. he can only hope that you’re willing to indulge him. “would you…” his voice trails off as he turns his head to the side, avoiding your gaze.

“go ahead,” you start, grabbing his chin and turning his head so that he’s looking at you, “ask me.”

he’s never felt this hesitant before but none of the women he’s slept with have been you. they’ve never made him ask for what he wants, patiently waited until he verbalized his desires. and he hasn’t wanted that, no, not from them. as foreign as the task is, he’ll do it if that means finally getting a taste of you.

despite the warmth spreading over his cheeks, yuta forces himself to hold your eye. “can you—can you please sit on my face?”

hearing the words pass his lips makes your heart jump in your chest. the goal had been to get him to admit what he craved the most but part of you believed that yuta was still holding onto his old ways, too bashful and shy to come clean about his needs. perhaps you’re holding onto a version of him that he’s left behind for good, though, you want to see for yourself. “you really want me to?”

“god, yes, please.” his fingers dig into the comforter beneath him in an attempt to keep from touching you like you told him even though he’s itching to. he’ll be patient, be good, for you. “i want to taste you so bad.”

shy little yuta really is gone.

but you suppose it isn’t all that bad.

you crawl forward over him to situate yourself. his breath is warm against your bare thighs and it makes your skin prickle. you hike the skirt you’re wearing up your legs so the fabric doesn’t obstruct your view of his face—you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to see the show.

“you aren’t going to take off your panties?” yuta asks. he’s only inches away now and he’s sure if he tilted his head up just a little bit, he’d be able to stick his tongue out and reach you.

you shake your head with a smile. “i’ll tell you when you can move them. you can lick me through them for now.”

there’s a complaint ready on the tip of his tongue about how he wants to taste and feel you—only you, but he bites it back, figuring that you’ll revoke your generosity entirely if he seems ungrateful. patience, he reminds himself. if he’s patient, he’ll have all of you soon enough.

he wets his lips before diving in, tongue sloppily licking at the layer of cotton keeping him from you. despite the barrier, he can make out your landmarks—the lips he’s wishing his tongue could slip between and your clit that he desperately wants to suck on. even though it isn’t quite what he was expecting, he eats you out through your panties like a man starved.

the fabric is soaked through now and if it weren’t for the hint of you on his tongue, yuta would wonder whether it was his spit or your arousal leaving a darkened spot on your panties. the thought that he got you wound up enough to soak through your underwear oddly fills him with a sense of pride—feeds the ego you claimed he had earlier. he had brushed it off then but it’s hard to ignore now considering that you’re the woman he’s wanted to do this with for the longest.

yuta is a lot more talented with his tongue than you anticipated he would be. you can’t remember the last time someone drew such satisfied noises from you—sharp gasps that you suck in whenever he happens to brush against your clit and musical moans that fill the room when he finds that magical rhythm. you’re beyond pleased with his performance, but an unwelcome thought nags at the back of your mind as the man eats you out; just how many women did it take him tongue-fucking for it to feel this good? you know you shouldn’t say it, but you voice your thoughts anyway. the question comes out breathy, “did you learn to use your tongue like this on all those other girls?”

“they–” he starts, licking you once more before continuing, “they were all practice for you.”

the ache between your thighs grows all the stronger with his confession. you don’t doubt the sincerity of his words—if there’s one thing that you know yuta will never abandon, it’s his honesty. you can admit to yourself that you were jealous earlier, jealous of all the women yuta decided to sleep with instead of you. the envy has all but dissipated now that you know you’ve always been the object of his affection.

“push them to the side,” you tell him hurriedly. yuta doesn’t waste a second following your command, hooking a finger on your panties to drag them to the side. your glistening wetness is hypnotizing and if he wasn’t already salivating this sight would surely be enough to have him drooling. he thinks he could stare at your pretty pussy all day but what he really wants is for you to come on his tongue.

before you know it, he’s lapping at you like your arousal is the very water that he needs to survive. there’s saliva running down his chin as he savors the taste of you. the vibration of his moans against you serves as a means to work you up even more, moans and whimpers of your own bubbling up from your chest.

it’s nearly impossible for you not to grind down on him, to ride his face like there’s no tomorrow. yuta doesn’t mind being trapped between your thighs, only being able to breathe in your heavenly scent and taste your honey-like essence. his tongue glides between your folds, teasing your entrance with each up on down.

“ride my tongue,” yuta’s muffled voice sounds from below you. “use me to come.”

and you do, rocking your hips against his face in rhythm with the salacious movement of his tongue. each flick of the muscle is a drop in your cup that’s filled to the brim, threatening to spill over and flood at any moment. all it takes are a few swirls of his tongue around your sensitive pearl for a wave of pleasure to wash over you. your thighs tremble with your orgasm and your back arches as the aftershocks ripple through you all while yuta continues to languidly stroke your cunt.

he hums against you as you come down from your high, leaving a kiss on your clit before telling you, “you taste so good.”

the compliment makes your heart flutter. “you think so?”

he nods, or at least tries to from his place between your legs. “the best i’ve ever had.”

“well then i guess it’s only fair for me to return the favor,” you suggest, letting your head loll to the side. you can practically see the gears turning in yuta’s head but he doesn’t speak up to question you, instead, waiting for your clarification. “what do you say; want me to suck you off?”

thanks for reading! reblogs + comments are greatly appreciated :))

[yanderes-galore]

Could you do prompts by starbabytae 14, 19, and 21 for Aemond Targaryen?

Aemond has gone FERAL in Season 2... so I'm ready. S2 E4 has definitely given me ideas. End is a bit awkward as I was unsure how exactly to fit it with the prompts.

‼️POTENTIAL SPOILERS FOR HOTD SEASON 2 - ALTERNATE TAKE ON THE EVENTS OF S2 E4‼️

Prompts Here

Yandere! Aemond Targaryen Prompts 14, 19, 21

“I just want you all to myself. Is that such a crime?”

“That’s where you belong. Worshipping me on your hands and knees.”

“Maybe if I branded you, other people would finally get that you’re mine.”

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Swearing, Stalking, Mature themes, Typical ASOIAF themes, Potential Targcest (You replace Helaena), Manipulation, Sadism, Threats, Possessive behavior/Jealousy, Murder, Blood mention, Forced/Dubious relationship.

Aemond had gotten used to the fact he'd be overlooked. He wasn't king due to being born after his brother Aegon. He tried to settle with simply being a warrior for his king on top of Vhagar.

But he still hated it all the same.

Aegon, the whiny brat of a king and brother, always got what he wanted because he was older. As king he had all the say. Meanwhile Aemond was left envious and irritated at how incompetent his brother was as king.

Aemond studied like the good prince he is, he's even better in battle. He's a better tactician and doesn't sleep around like his whore of a brother. He doesn't understand. Why must Aegon be king simply because he's older.

What makes it worse? Aegon also got his first and only love.

You were betrothed and married to Aegon. Aemond had loved you since you both were kids, yet the younger prince was forced to watch as you married his brother. Not only that... but he had to witness the babes you bore for him.

The thought still makes Aemond seethe. He's tired of allowing Aegon, an entitled brat, get what he's always wanted. Aemond always thought he'd make the better king... he's always followed his duties...

He wishes you and him were betrothed instead of Aegon.

While you may not belong to him, Aemond still yearns for you. For years he's loved you. Even when you were married to Aegon he still fantasizes about how it would feel to have you as his.

Aemond always watched you from afar, swearing himself as your protector. On top of Vhagar he felt he was the one making decisions for this war. He's the one making plans while Aegon flirts with other women.

Aemond can tell you aren't happy with Aegon... Aemond could treat you so much better.

Aemond wasn't expecting the opportunity to act on his desires ever. At first he was just going to take Criston Cole to take down Rook's Rest along with Rhaenys and Meleys. Vhagar has been so eager for a fight.

Then he saw Aegon swoop in on Sunfyre... making him pause.

He should be ashamed... but the plan was too perfect.

It was too easy to swoop in on Vhagar when Sunfyre and Meleys were busy. Aemond just had to say one word and the whole situation would look like a freak accident. The thought of finally taking what he deserved makes him grin.

"Dracarys!"

The command is short, simple, but executed with a plume of fire from Vhagar as both smaller dragons are struck down.

Aemond took sadistic delight in taking out both riders. The fire from Vhagar was enough to make Aegon and Sunfyre crash down. However, it took some stealth tactics to bite the neck of Meleys to make the red queen fall with her rider.

By the end of the fighting, Aemond found himself standing in front of his burned brother on the ground. His brother barely moved, yet his breathing was faint. Aemond barely hesitated when he picked up his brother's dagger and hovered it over his burned brother's chest.

"I will be the one to make her happy, brother." Aemond whispers, not caring if Aegon even heard or not. "I will be king, I will win this war, and I'll do it much better than you did."

It's then Aemond does the finishing blow, tucking the dagger away before leaving. The sight of the blood trickling from his brother's chest indifferent to him. Criston Cole enters the foliage to see Aemond and the corpse of the king. The knight goes to say something, yet Aemond's remaining eye glares at him.

"It was a freak accident, that's all it was." Aemond hums, walking past the knight. "Say otherwise and I'll have you gutted by my sword."

The loss of Aegon was a much bigger loss to The Greens. In comparison, The Blacks only really lost one dragon and dragonrider. The Greens...? They lost their king.

Which leads to them placing Aemond in power in an attempt to regain control.

The death of your husband makes you... conflicted. You didn't really love him... yet you feared the vulnerability that came from having the king slain. You believed it was genuinely an accident caused by Aegon's rash decision to prove himself.

Completely unaware of the culprit hovering around you, coddling you and cheering you up like he didn't kill his brother.

With the death of Aegon, Aemond began courting you. You're a widow queen... and he's the new king. Naturally... you two end up being betrothed to keep up support for The Greens. The marriage is then scheduled to happen within the week.

Such an announcement brings rumors from both sides and supporters. The whole thing seems too convenient. Soon there were rumors of Aemond being a kinslayer, killing his brother just to take his wife.

Aemond could care less for such problematic rabble.

All he really cared about was making you his, let them gossip.

Aemond couldn't help the playful chuckle that poured out of his lips when he saw you pacing about your chambers. You looked so vulnerable without Aegon around anymore. Now you are his queen... one who should listen to him and love only him unconditionally.

Aegon never deserved you, at least Aemond promises to only pay attention to you.

"Here you are, love." Aemond greets, cupping your cheek. "Gods how I love you... I've always loved you...

Aemond leans closer to brush his lips over yours, you leaning into his touch obediently.

"I'm so happy to call you mine... It makes everything I've done worth it...." Aemond hums, kissing your lips. He craves your taste, your touch, always has since you young.

Now you're finally his to claim....

"I always hated the fact Aegon got to have you..." Aemond whispers, pressing your face closer to his own in between kisses. "I always wanted it to be me... always should have been me... but now you're mine...."

Your feelings for Aemond are... complicated. You loved him more than Aegon yet couldn't help but distrust him. It felt too... planned.

Yet you were scared to push.

"Aemond... it is scandalous to act this way with a recently widowed queen...." You whisper, yet Aemond only ignores the comment.

"Let the commonfolk think what they wish..." Aemond growls, pulling you flush against him. “I just want you all to myself. Is that such a crime?”

Aemond then chuckles, the idea of the common people and the royals knowing you're his a pleasing thought. To him, this is the ultimate revenge. Even now he despises his brother for taking advantage of the privilege he was given.

At least Aemond plans to use it right.

“Maybe if I branded you, other people would finally get that you’re mine.” Aemond teases, tracing his hands over the exposed skin of your nightgown. "Just as you should be...."

The way you shiver in his touch excites him. Be it from pleasure or fear, he doesn't care. Now that you're his... Why would he ever let go?

"Do you believe the rumors, Aemond?" You ask him in such a sweet voice, his one eye looking at you affectionately. He wonders if you can see the darkness in his violet gaze. "The ones where they call you a kinslayer?"

"Do you believe them?" Aemond asks, affectionately kissing your skin. "Do you really care what the common folk think?"

Aemond waits for you to answer, yet is met with silence. He chuckles at your conflicted gaze, kissing your lips softly. It really didn't change anything if you believed them or not... only two people knew the truth...

and Criston Cole was dangerously close to being hanged, anyways.

"Don't worry so much, love." Aemond whispers, pulling back a bit to view you fully. "You'll hurt yourself... just focus on me..." He kisses you one more time before sitting on the bed, hands on your shoulders. "Could you sit on your knees for me...?"

Obediently you listen to him, making Aemond shiver in anticipation. This was what he always wanted. You listening to him... coddling him... tending to only him.

“That’s where you belong. Worshipping me on your hands and knees.” Aemond praises, petting your head as he lays your head in his lap. "No need to worry about anything, my queen... I'll take care of it all for you."

You merely listen to your new king as he strokes your hair. This is all he's ever dreamed of. Aemond can't hide the dark smirk on his face as he gives you the affection he's always wanted to give.

You shouldn't look too much into rumors, you shouldn't worry about a thing, who cares about the fate of Aegon?

You have Aemond now... he'll fix everything... for you, the kingdom, and the seven realms.

[thehistoriccemetery]

Honestly I’d beg for prompt 4. Is Tav the one in bed? What’s the vibe lol

BG3 x GN!Reader : “Stay in Bed, Please?”

I try to make the vibe a little bit different for all of them. There are certain characters who definitely sleep later and certain ones that are consistently up before sunrise.

Featuring Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Karlach, Minthara, and Jaheira

I’m really feeling this prompt right now, as it is impossible to get out of bed and go to work so early when the weather is so cold and the bed is so warm.

Shadowheart

You really do try and make as quiet an exit as possible. Shadowheart is a light sleeper.

Regardless, you don’t even make it off the mattress before you hear her precious little whine.

She turns over, sleepy eyes barely opened, looking into yours. Her hair is down and you almost giggle as it covers large parts of her face. “Stay in bed, please?”

It’s a tempting offer, you must admit. But you promised Lae’zel you’d train with her this morning.

You kiss her on the forehead and tuck her back into the blankets. “Go back to sleep, princess. I have to go.”

“My lady gives us a few more hours of her precious moonlight. You would take her gift for granted?” She teases, still not satisfied with your answer.

You roll your eyes and chuckle. “Well, I suppose I don’t want to upset your goddess.”

“Then you best crawl your way back under these blankets, lest you face her wrath.” She lifts the blankets, beckoning you back underneath.

You sigh, curling up back under the sheets. Looks like Lae’zel will be training alone this morning.

Shadowheart curls up into your chest. You feel the smug little smile grow on her face.

Lae’zel

Beg and whine as you wish, Lae’zel is not staying in bed.

She’s got shit to do, people to kill, laps to run.

She’s always up before you are. She sees the time as crucial training hours. By the time everyone else is up she’s already ready to go.

Some mornings she’ll have you get up with her. She has some really interesting of waking you up though.

Most of the time she just stares at you and slowly moves her face closer to yours until you finally stir.

As much as you love her you explain that awaking to someone bent over staring at you isn’t your ideal morning.

Her other methods include holding a knife to your throat, or pouring water onto your face.

One day you’ll learn the importance of these crucial morning hours.

Karlach

It isn’t impossible to sneak out of bed with Karlach, as long as you’re quiet and you replace your place in her arms with a carefully arranged Clive.

You think you’ve succeeded, lacing up your boots sitting on the edge of the bed… until you feel a tail curl around your waist.

You gently stroke the tail, coaxing her into letting you go. It only makes her tighten her grip and pull you closer.

“I know you’re not about to try and sneak out of here before the bloody sunrise,” she mumbles groggily.

As she pulls you closer to her body, you feel the warmth radiating off of her.

How could anyone be expected to subject themselves to freezing winter morning when they have a comfy furnace of a girlfriend begging them to stay in bed?

You sigh, kicking off your half-laced boots and burying yourself back into her embrace.

She yawns and stretches, pulling you back against her chest as she relaxes.

You used to be a morning person, but gods be damned if you’re ever going to crawl out of bed before sunrise again when this is the alternative.

Minthara

Minthara only trances for a couple of hours, so it’s very rare that you get to spend time sleeping, cuddled up to her.

She manages to sneak out of bed impossibly early, and settle down across the room to read a book by candlelight.

She hardly notices when you get up, all groggy and still wrapped in blankets and ask her to come back to bed.

“You can bring your candle and your book and whatever. It’s just so empty over there without you.”

She stares at you a moment before closing the book and grabbing the candle.

You smile and jump back into bed. You were honestly kinda shocked that it worked.

Minthara sat against the headboard, allowing you to rest your head against her stomach and wrap your arms around her thighs. She rested the book on your back and continued reading.

You feel safer and more comfortable than ever as you drift back to sleep. Maybe if you ask really nicely, she’d let you do this more often.

Jaheira

You manage to catch Jaheira before she can get out of bed. You wrap your arms around her, clinging to her and preventing her escape.

“I must go cub, the sun is rising. But you may rest for a little while longer.”

You know she would not put up with your whining, and she’d probably make you get up now if you started. Still, you couldn’t help but at least try to plead your case.

“Just a few more minutes?” You ask, looking up at her with the most endearing eyes you can muster. You keep your mouth and nose buried in her stomach.

She smiles and strokes your hair. How is she supposed to resist that precious little face?

“A little while longer and you get up with me,” she bargained.

“Deal,” you agreed, pulling her back into bed. It was no fun to be in bed without her anyway.

[greytongue]

random prompt: massage

cw/themes: no smut. leon never stretches, so you help him with that. then you give him a massage. he’s touch starved. he falls asleep. slightly established relationship? y’all like each other and you know the feelings are mutual. ambiguous gender reader

-

leon took poor care of his body. sure, he’s an active guy and eats relatively healthy. but taking the time to focus on his aches and pains and flexibility is where he lacked.

you’d hear him let out the occasional grunt or groan anytime he had to kneel, bend over, anything really. especially after a mission is when he complained the most. so, you set it upon yourself to take care of his physical ailments after another gruff mission.

“i really don’t need this.” he sighed, begrudgingly removing his shirt at your command.

“you /think/ you don’t, but i’m starting to believe i know your body better than you do.” you grabbed the body oil from under the master bathroom sink, and headed back into the bedroom where leon was shifting awkwardly.

“okay, so,” you sat the bottle on the night stand, “go ahead and hop up on the bed, but don’t lay down yet. get on your knees, i’m gonna have you stretch real quick.”

he hummed out an affirmative and proceeded to kneel on the bed as you had instructed, you followed him also, settling behind him.

“alright…” your hands skimmed his broad, yet tense, shoulders, to get a feel for what you’d be dealing with. he sighed and hung his head at just being touched. you frowned slightly at this. you guided him through multiple upper body stretches to warm his body up before you’d be handling the muscles.

“feel alright so far?”

“yeah, this is fine.” he rolled out his shoulders a bit, already feeling a difference.

“great,” you flashed a smile. “go ahead and lay down, i’m gonna start working on your shoulders first and then making my way down.” you scooched off the bed to grab the oil, coming to a stand on the side leon laid at.

“this might feel a bit weird,” you poured the liquid in your hands. “but it’s just so it’ll make it easier for me to do this. ready?” he nodded and you got down to business.

leon shivered as the body oil made contact with his skin. “sorry if my hands are cold.” your eyebrows furrowed apologetically, thumbs circling out a knot in his shoulder blade.

“mm-mm, feels nice..” he groaned in delight as you worked out the muscles in his upper body, placing a small kiss on his pale skin before moving from the right shoulder to the left and massaging the knots out. you began working your way down, with some trouble however. you couldn’t leverage yourself right with how you were standing.

with some hesitation, you proceeded carefully, “hey, is it alright if i, uh.. straddle you? it’s just so i can get a better angle.”

“mm, do whatever you need to.” he slurred out. you didn’t realize that he was half asleep while you were doing all this. you smiled, swinging your leg to rest your knees on either side of him and gently placed your weight down, continuing your ministrations. you slowly work his muscles as you go down, placing chaste kisses once you’re finished with a certain section of his strong back. he’s letting out soft sighs and moans and it has you smiling. you’re happy that you can give this worn-out man some peace.

once you’re finished with the entirety of his back, you rub in the excess oil into his skin. slowly moving your hands back and forth along his back, making sure everything is fully moisturized. you hum contently, now finally finished.

you gently place your hands on his shoulders, signaling you’re done. “okay leon- oh.”

what do you know, he’s fallen asleep. he looks.. peaceful. his eyes are closed and you can see his pretty long lashes perfectly this way. his eyebrows are usually furrowed in concentration or stress, which you always comment he’s giving himself premature wrinkles, but they’re relaxed now. you can see his upper back falling up and down slowly from his breathing, his plump lips slightly agape.

you snicker to yourself and pat his back, climbing off the bed carefully and pulling the duvet onto him. once you’re finished tucking him in, you pet the strands of hair from his bangs out of his eyes and press a kiss to his temple.

“sleep well, kennedy.”

[nathanbatemanfucker]

Personal Issue

summary: santi invites you to his hotel room the day after your engagement to talk. he says the unexpected— that he’s in love with you.

prompt: "Why did you never tell me?" "It was a personal issue." "You being in love with me kind of also involves me." - @creativepromptsforwriting

pairing: santi garcia x f!reader

contents: get together fic, best friends to lovers, simp!santi (he’s lowkey a lil pathetic but i love him), angst, mental health issues/thoughts of dying, cheating, kissing

wc: 1,966

an: a teeny tiny something bc i miss santi. thanks to @ivystoryweaver for the beta <3

oscar characters masterlist

"Why did you never tell me?" You demand, unable to keep the horror out of your voice.

Santi ignores the way your tone scrapes at the wound in his heart— the wound that’s always been open because of you. Always fresh, unable to heal because of you. You always seemed to be just out of reach, slipping through his fingers for one reason or another.

"It was a personal issue,” He reasons, shoving his hands in his pockets.

He can hardly look at you. It’s humbling. He’s never had an issue with charming a woman, but you aren’t just any woman. You’re his best friend. There are too many eggs in this basket.

You scoff, crossing your arms against your chest, "You being in love with me kind of also involves me."

“I didn’t— things were different before.”

“Different,” You test the word, not at all buying it. It feels like bullshit. Like a cop-out.

“Yes, different. We were kids, and then I was gone all the time.”

“No, Santi, you can’t do this to me.”

Santi smiles, though there is no humor in it. You’re right— he shouldn’t be doing this. Not today, not any day, but he’s finally reached his limit. It’s now or never.

“I don’t really have a choice, now did I, cariño?”

You glare at him, about ready to rip his head off because that‘s not true. You and Santiago have known each other for most of your lives— and you’ve loved him for at least half that. He could’ve told you days, weeks, months, years ago that he felt the same. But in true Santiago Garcia fashion, thinking only of himself and the consequences that sit right in front of him, he’d told you today.

Today wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t the day after you’d gotten engaged. No, Santi chose the day after you’d finally given yourself to someone else completely, the day after you promised yourself you’d settle and try to stop loving him. What you’ve wanted for years and years on end has finally come and now it feels like some sort of cruel joke.

“That’s one of the most heinous lies you’ve ever told.”

“The Colombian government would disagree.”

“You know what— get the hell out of here. I don’t want to see you ever again. I can’t believe that you think you can just waltz right in here and—“

Santi takes two long strides towards you, closing the gap between you so that he can cup your face. “Tell me no. Say it. You have to say it to me.”

“Santiago, please,” You plead softly with him, your eyes round with fear. Your hands reach up to grasp his, making futile attempts to pull them away. “Don’t make me choose.”

Santi leans closer, the tip of his nose ghosting yours. His eyes are darker than usual, burning into you, a little angry— though he has no right to be— and a little desperate. “Why? Why not, hmm? He’s not that important, is he? Because you know you’ll choose me, don’t you?”

“Stop. Stop. Do you know how unfair this is? How fucked up it is for you to tell me this?”

Santi’s grip on your face tightens— it’s not painful but it’s frantic. You can feel the urgency in his fingertips. “Yes. Yes, I know. And I’ve always wanted to be better for you. I want to be a good man, I want to be worthy. Not some fucked up guy who’s better at killing than he is at telling the woman he loves how much she means to him. But, I’m not.”

“You could try.”

“I have. Don’t you get it, baby, I have. Yesterday when I saw those pictures. When I saw this—“ He tangles his fingers with your own, twisting your hand so you have to stare the ring sat on your finger in the face.

It glistens and gleams like it taunting you. It’s exactly what you wanted— the right cut, the right material—sparkling even in the dark. Your stomach churns at the sight of it. You shouldn’t have said yes, that much you know for sure. When you went back to your apartment last night you sat in the shower, your tears disguised under its spray. And when you had emerged, you’d made yourself a promise. To be a good and loyal spouse to the man that had actually chosen you.

“It drove me fucking insane. I lost it because I’m losing you. I had to try. If you say no, I’ll never come back. I’ll take assignment after assignment but if there’s even a small chance, baby, that you could still love me— because I know you did…I know you do.”

“I don’t want you gone forever, Santi. I said that because I’m angry.”

“You have every right to be.”

“I don’t need you to tell me that.”

“Then what do you need, huh? Tell me, and I’ll give it to you. Whatever you want.”

There’s more than one answer to that, but you have to give him the right answer. You’d just promised yourself last night that you would move on. Who knew that he would make it so difficult.

With a soft, shaky breath you say, “I…I need you to let me go.”

Santi goes dangerously still, his breath catching. “What?”

“I need you to let me go,” You repeat gently, closing your eyes so you don’t have to face him. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

The words sound syrupy in his ears, far away and unreal. He looks at you with confusion. “You want me to let you go?”

“Yes.”

The sharp anger and desperation in Santi’s eyes fade away, leaving his features soft and round and sad. So markedly sad. He lets his eyes trace your face for memorization; lips and eyes, the slope of your nose. He leans in to kiss your forehead, letting out a soft sigh.

Santi has done wrong by so many others and even done wrong by you. But this he’ll do right. If you want him to let you go then he will. He’ll let you walk out of here and never look back. Maybe he’ll get so involved in his work that he won’t think of you or this moment ever again. Maybe something will take him away completely. He flinches at his thought— it’s been a long time since something that has floated around in his mind like that. Taking a step away from you, he lets you go, fingers aching with the ghost of your skin against his.

You rest your face in your hands for a few moments, trying to pull yourself together. And when you straighten, you’re sure not to look Santi in his, just in his general direction. You’re broken enough and meeting his gaze would surely cause you to fall apart.

“Thank you, Santi,” You whisper, not trusting yourself to speak any louder.

He gives you a stiff nod, “Anything for you.”

Why do those words feel like you’re being stabbed in the heart? If he meant them, then why did he wait so long? Why did he do this to the both of you? Your vision blurs a bit with tears and you quickly grab your coat from where it’s laid on his bed, taking deliberate steps towards the door. Your hand lingers on the doorknob— are you sure that you want to do this? To walk away from the man you’ve always wanted?

“Wait,” He calls after you.

You freeze, but don’t turn towards him— that would be asking for trouble. Trouble you are trying so fucking hard to avoid. “What is it?”

“I just— I have to say it to you one more time because I don’t know if I’ll be able to again.”

“I told you I didn’t want you gone for good, Santi. We don’t have to do this, you can just let me walk away and we can act like it never happened,” You say, though you’re not sure if you’re trying to convince him or yourself more.

“I don’t think I can promise to stick around. I can’t watch you marry someone else. I’m not gracious enough, querida.”

“Okay,” You whisper, the tears in your eyes starting to fall.

“I…I love you. I always will.”

Silence falls between you two, an empty cove. Santi hopes that it’ll be enough, that somehow, miraculously you’ll turn around and run into his arms, telling him that you love him too. Instead, he hears a soft sob and watches as your hand rises to wipe at your face before you straighten up and step out into the hall.

When the door shuts behind you he feels like he’s drowning. Like he can’t breathe. His heart is thrumming loudly in his ears, and he crumbles, letting out a groan as his knees hit the ground.

What the fuck has he done? Lost you forever, and told you that he can’t stick around. That was the last time he would ever see you. A world without you is one he’s sure he doesn’t want to be in.

He’s completely paralyzed with fear. He’s not sure how long he sits on the ground like this, shocked and still, but eventually his body starts to ache so badly he’s unable to ignore it. He crawls to the bed, reaching up to rest his weight on it and lift himself onto it. Here he can rot until he can no longer. Until Frankie or Will or Benny come to bang down the door and figure out what the hell is wrong with him.

It’s not long after that that someone does start knocking on his door. Has it been days? One of them was here already. Santi feels like it’s been minutes and weeks all at the same time, time stretching and squeezing in a way that feels unreal. It takes real effort to rise out of bed and make his way to the door. He doesn’t bother to check who it is, opening it with no reservations.

Maybe he died of starvation or dehydration. He must have been lying there much longer than he thought because it’s you. You’re standing at the door, tear-stained and so goddamn beautiful. This has to be heaven— except he’s undeserving.

“I love you too,” You blurt out.

“What?”

“I love you too,” You repeat. When Santi says nothing, staring at you in a daze you start to ramble. “I tried to go home and I couldn’t sleep. And then I drove around a bunch but I couldn’t stop crying because how am I supposed to live my life without you? Then all of a sudden I was here again. I love you, Santiago.”

“You love me.”

“Yes, I love you. Are you okay?”

Santi feels like his body has recalibrated. “Am I— get over here,” He murmurs, reaching to pull you into his room and crushing your mouth to his.

He presses you against the wall, covering your body with his own as he completely devours your mouth, forcing his way in and sucking at your tongue. All you can do is melt into him, hands scrambling to find purchase in the fabric of his shirt so that you can clutch him closer. His mouth is firm and so sweet. You want to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him for the rest of your life. Something in your brain reminds you that maybe, just maybe, if he loves you as much as he claims he does you will. It has you giggling into his mouth.

He grins into the kiss. “My kissing is funny, is it?”

“Funny isn’t the word I’d use for it but just to be sure— kiss me again?”

“Anything for you,” He murmurs, his mouth capturing yours once more.

santi taglist: @jitterbugs927, @theconsultingdoctor10, @tanzthompson, @clairevoyanceee, @moonmalice, @tiffanypooh, @dearvirtualdiary-blog1, @marc-spectorr, @xbellaxcarolinax, @toracainz, @mccn-bcys, @missdictatorme, @whatthefishh

[transform4u]

I'm a junior at our local college and I really like helping other students. I got a job as a tutor and I've been trying to teach a few of the jocks around campus. But it feels hopeless. I've tried every strategy, but I can't seem to get the basics across to them. I think I pissed one off when I asked him if all straight jocks are stupid. I apologized profusely and I hope he doesn't report me. I just got so frustrated.

You're sitting at the designated table in the library, your notes neatly arranged in front of you. As usual, you arrived early, tapping your pen against the edge of your notebook while you wait for Trevor, the idiot jock you've been tutoring for the past semester.

Finally, you spot Trevor swaggering in, looking and smelling as if he just came from a football practice, still in his gym gear. He plops down next to you, the scent of his sweat and cologne fills the air. The combination is overpowering, making your nose crinkle in discomfort. He reeks of a musky odor that's mixed with the pungent smell of sweat from his recent workout. His gym clothes are damp and cling to his body, revealing every curve and bulge as he leans in close to you. You can't help but feel a little nauseated by the stench emanating from him. "Sup, bro! Ready to teach me some numbers and stuff?" he grins, flashing a confident smile.

You resist the urge to sigh audibly, managing a curt nod instead. You crack open your textbook, preparing to dive into the intricacies of Precalculus, when Trevor interrupts again, his voice loud and boisterous. "Wait up broesph, teach gave me a new book to study from!" He triumphantly pulls out an ancient-looking tome from his bag, prompting a small cloud of dust to billow into the air as he slams it on the table.

You raise an eyebrow skeptically, peering at the worn cover. "You sure this is the book your precalc professor gave you? I've never seen it before," you remark.

Trevor waves off your concern with a dismissive gesture. "Yeah, yeah, yeah," he replies nonchalantly. "Just open it up and teach me, bro." His casual demeanor grates on your nerves, but you adjust your glasses with a resigned sigh, steeling yourself for another tutoring session with the self-assured jock.

You flip open the aged pages, noting the faded print and yellowed edges, and start reading aloud. Trevor leans back, seemingly relaxed, as you launch into an explanation of the first topic. Despite your growing annoyance, you focus on explaining the material clearly, guiding him through the concepts he seems to struggle to grasp.

You sit across from your student, a slightly befuddled look on their face as you flip through the pages of the precalculus textbook. The fluorescent lights hum softly overhead, and you adjust your glasses nervously before diving into the lesson.

"O-okay, so, uh, let's start with... um, the quadratic equations," you say, your voice gaining confidence as you find the page you're looking for. "Here, see, it's like... um, x squared plus bx plus c equals zero. So, uh, we have to use the quadratic formula to find the roots, which is... um..."

Your finger traces the lines on the page, but something feels off. The numbers and letters seem to blur together, swirling and dancing around the page. You blink hard, trying to refocus, but the equations only become more jumbled.

"Um, excuse me," you mutter, feeling a bead of sweat form on your forehead. "The quadratic formula is, uh, negative b... um, plus or minus... square root of b squared... um..."

The words tumble out in a disjointed stream as the page before you seems to twist and distort. Trevor just stares at you with a shit eating grin on his face.

"I-I'm sorry," you manage to say, your voice cracking slightly. "It's just... um, let's try another example." You hastily turn the page, your head throbs relentlessly, a dull ache that seems to intensify with every passing moment. The letters and numbers on the page dance mockingly, refusing to settle into coherent sentences. It's like trying to read through a foggy window, and frustration brews deep within you.

"What's the matter dude? I thought only straight jocks were stupid?" Trevor's laughter cuts through the haze in your mind, his words piercing. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "You're a smart nerd, you excel in math," you repeat like a mantra, though it feels distant and ineffective against Trevor's relentless teasing.

"You love Star Wars and Doctor Who. Your favorite Doctor is David… Da… Da… Dalton Schultz," you mumble, trying to cling to your identity amidst the chaos. Trevor's wicked smile only widens, his amusement evident.

"Hell yeah, I love Houston Texans! I didn't know you were a Texas boy like me!" Trevor's sudden declaration snaps your attention, and without realizing it, a Texan accent colors your response. "Ya' bet bro, born and raised," you exclaim, the drawl slipping naturally from your tongue.

Your nerdy hobbies and passion for math seem to drain away like water through a sieve, replaced by a surge of Texan pride. Football knowledge fills the gaps in your mind, and you feel an unexpected surge of energy coursing through your veins. You find yourself nodding knowingly as Trevor talks about the game, understanding terms and strategies you never cared to learn before.

"Yeah, man!" you chuckle dumbly, patting Trevor on the back in a gesture of camaraderie. "So, as I was saying… uhh… ahaha," you continue, your finger tracing the words as you slowly try to sound the letters out. "For squ---ats, feet shoulder-width apart, chest up, and low---lo---lowwer yourself as if sitting back into a chair. Keep your knees a---lie---aligned with your toes and push through your heels as you return to standing."

Despite the fog in your mind, the football techniques flow from your lips, surprising even yourself. You coach Trevor with a newfound confidence, guiding him through the motions with clarity and ease. As you read through the fitness instructions, a strange sensation washes over you. You feel a subtle but unmistakable shift in your body. At first, it's a tingling sensation, like pins and needles running beneath your skin. Then, almost imperceptibly at first, you notice changes.

Your abs tighten and define themselves, the muscles becoming more pronounced beneath your shirt. Your chest swells noticeably, thickening as your pecs rise and fall with each breath, now straining against the fabric of your shirt. Your quads, once slender, now seem to expand, filling out your pants as if they've grown larger and more defined. Even your biceps bulge noticeably, stretching the sleeves of your shirt until they tear, revealing the muscles beneath.

Trevor looks over at you, his laughter tapering off as he notices the transformation. "Dude, you're looking good!" he exclaims, his surprise evident. "We should hit the gym and bars after this library shit. Pick up some chicks and shit" he suggests with a grin, clearly impressed by your sudden physical development.

You're taken aback by the changes, feeling a mix of disbelief and awe at how your body has seemingly transformed in such a short time. The instructions you were reading seem to have had a literal effect, shaping your physique in ways you never thought possible.

"Yeah, man, let's do it, but I like dudes, dude" you reply, a newfound confidence in your voice.

"Oh, crap!" he grunts. "There's one other thing I gotta give to you." He pulls out a baseball cap and places it on your head.

The moment the cap touches your skin, a wave of euphoria washes over you. All thoughts of intelligence and academic pursuits vanish from your mind as if they were never there before. You shake your head at the thought of guys kissing each other; that's just not cool. No homo bro, right? All those dreamy guys from before disappear from your mind's eye. It's as if they were never there in the first place! In their place is an overwhelming desire to work out and pick up chicks - especially those hot cheerleaders that have been on your mind lately. Now it's time to hit the gym and make some moves on those cheerleaders! As Trevor spins the cap around your head with a mischievous grin, something feels different. It's as if a fog descends over your mind, clouding your thoughts and making everything seem distant and hazy. The words on the page in front of you blur into meaningless lines and squiggles, no longer comprehensible.

"It's alright bro, we don't need any books," Trevor says with an easygoing smirk. "We just beer, bros, and some hot chicks right?"

You nod slowly, feeling a strange detachment from your usual sharp intellect. Your expression shifts, your features becoming more relaxed and carefree. Your jawline seems to square off, giving your face a more chiseled, masculine appearance. Your eyes lose their usual intensity, taking on a laid-back, almost vacant look that's characteristic of a stereotypical frat bro.

"So, uh, can we like rage tonight bro?" you ask eagerly, your voice tinged with excitement.

"Hell yeah bro!" Trevor respond enthusiastically, giving you a high five.

You've become one of the dumbest jocks on campus, dumber than Trevor himself. You listen to his every word as gospel, following him around like a loyal puppy. Every day is spent working out with him in the gym, and every night is spent getting drunk and picking up chicks with him as his loyal "dumb wingman."

You spend your days lifting weights and running laps under Trevor's watchful eye. He takes great pride in molding you into the perfect specimen of masculinity - strong, muscular, and dim-witted. As for your nightlife activities… well, let's just say that between hitting up parties together and cruising around town looking for girls who need a real man to show them some mindless fun there isn't much time left over for anything else. Guess what they say about all straight jocks being idiots is true? It certainly seems that way for you now!

[grandline-fics]

Dream A Little Dream

DESCRIPTION: They hear you say their name in your sleep

WARNINGS: just fluff

CHARACTERS: Killer, Smoker, | Law, Sabo

WORDS: 1,790

A/N: I've been hating how some of the requests I've been working on were turning out so I've paused them to go back to this idea with some other characters. Hope you all enjoy

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

KILLER

“No I don’t.”

“Yes, you do!”

“No. I don’t.”  Killer looked up from the stove at the sound of your argument with Wire came closer to the kitchen. Nothing disputes were always common around the ship so usually he didn’t pay them much mind but Killer always found himself taking a little more notice to things when they involved you.

“How do you even know? You’re asleep.” Wire argued as you both entered the kitchen, not noticing the vice-captain right away. Killer watched as you leaned against the counter and rolled your eyes at your crewmate. “What’s the big deal anyway? So what if you talk in your sleep?”

“It’s not the claim I talk in my sleep, it’s just that I don’t believe you, Wire.” You explained, turning to stare at your crewmate suspiciously. “I mean it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve tried to prank me. Unless you can get proof that I talk in my sleep or someone else- that isn’t just Heat- confirms it, then I’ll believe you.” You shrugged simply and finally turned to acknowledge your vice-captain with a smile now that the matter was dropped. “What’s for dinner?”

Late that night, Killer rose from the heavy haze of sleep that he had to force himself to resist falling back into. With a long, low groan, he stretched out his body and rubbed his tired eyes before settling his mask firmly into place. Rolling his shoulders and pulling his clothes on he dragged his heavy limbs out of his bed and absently walked through the ship until he was climbing the Crow’s Nest to relieve Gig. Wishing the other crew member a goodnight, Killer settled back and readied himself for what he could already tell would be a calm and uneventful watch shift. However he was surprised after a couple hours to see the hatch open and you appeared. 

“You’re not on the roster for tonight…” He noted, watching you close the hatch and adjust the blanket and pillow under your other arm. 

“Nope, tomorrow night.” You confirmed. “I always come up here when I have trouble sleeping. Is it okay if I join you?”

“Of course it is, make yourself comfortable.” Killer gestured you to pick somewhere to sit. You smiled happily and Killer returned it despite his smile being hidden beneath his mask. As you moved to settle in the seats near him, he tried to remain as relaxed as he could. Even with a single seat separating you both, he could still feel the natural warmth you always exuded, both a comfort and distraction for him. 

Killer watched as you placed the pillow on the windowsill and tucked your arms underneath it, deciding to forgo actually lying down so you could face him properly and idly chat with him through his watch. Eventually though Killer noticed your eyes were drooping and your voice would thicken, your statements broken by yawns in a signal that you’d finally fall to sleep. It wasn’t long before your breathing evened out and the peaceful silence fell. Killer turned his head away from you, deciding to actually finish his task and keep watch. He only had another couple hours and he’d be finished. Every so often through that time he’d hear you shift slightly and let out soft mumbles but for the most part you slept completely silent. Then your voice drifted up. “Hm…Kil…”

“Yeah? What’s-” Killer turned his head only to pause to see you were still fast asleep. Immediately he shut his mouth and continued to watch you sleep. While you’d said the beginning of his name, he wasn’t going to jump to conclusions that you were actually dreaming about him. After all a lot of words started with ‘kil’ and you could have been saying anything. 

“Killer…ask me out already…” Killer all but choked on his tongue, not expecting that but he definitely wasn’t complaining. Clearing his throat he composed himself just in time for the hatch to fly open and crash loudly against the floor causing you to jump awake and look around in startled confusion. Your eyes landed on Wire who arrived for his watch and with a huff you controlled your racing heart. 

“Oh oops, you were sleeping?” Wire asked before his eyes lit up. “You were sleeping! Killer, did they talk?” Immediately your heart began to race again and you looked to Killer who remained outwardly calm. 

“Nope, not a word.” He stated while getting up and stretched his stiff muscles, glad to go back to his own bed. Just before he could close his door, you appeared, hand bracing against the wood and stopping him. “What’s up?”

“You lied to Wire.” You stated and Killer’s eyebrows rose slightly. “I always win at poker because I know your tell when you lie. I did talk in my sleep, why didn’t you tell him what I said?”

“Well I think what was said would be best kept between us.” Killer smirked, emboldened by how adorably confused you looked. Then in the depths of your mind you must have recalled what you were dreaming about because your eyes widened and a small gasp broke free. 

“Night Kil, see you in the morning.” You quickly uttered, stepping back and hurrying to your room, your steps faltering when he called after you. “It’s a date.” 

SMOKER

You stared at the mountain of paperwork already waiting on your desk as you entered your office that morning. You’d stayed up so late clearing your desk only to see even more waiting for you. Slowly you looked at the mug of coffee in your hand and back to the paperwork and sighed heavily. It was going to be a long day and most likely night, you could already tell. Bracing yourself you sat down at your desk and lifted the first file waiting for you and your eye twitched immediately. Yeah, it was going to be a very, very long day. By midmorning your patience all but snapped and you made a list of the people responsible for your swiftly soured mood and left to go to the transmission room. Lifting the receiver you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction stir within you as you began your announcement. 

“Attention G-5. Due to personnel ignoring protocol and handing in multiple reports from previous missions at once, a backlog has occurred. Until these reports have been fully processed the following Marines are prohibited from active duty off base. No exceptions.” You paused to let the beginning announcement set in, already you could hear a chorus of voices coming from outside the room. Then you began to clearly and concisely read out the long list of names of the offenders. 

From the training yard, Smoker and the others stopped to listen to the names being echoed through the speakers. As he ground his teeth against the cigars in his mouth he couldn’t help the mounting frustration as he recognised a lot of the names on his list were part of the unit he was meant to be going out on a mission with in just a couple days time. As Commander of the base he was sorely tempted to go against the transmission but at the same time he supposed these Marines needed to be taught a lesson in not just handing in bulk reports last minute. He also recognised the voice as yours and he didn’t want to annoy you given he was attracted to you too. Perhaps he could convince you to process certain Marines first. “The personnel on this list will be notified when they are cleared for duty again. Thank you.”

Smoker sighed heavily and within seconds he heard the multitude of voices surging up, all of them calling for him. Before he’d even gotten out of the training yard he was already swarmed by those who’d now been placed off-duty and asking him to pull strings or pull rank and still let them go on their missions. With a headache growing, Smoker glared at them all into shutting up and backing off before he made his way to your office. He knocked once and entered.

“How long will they take to process? There’s a mission-”

“That’s occurring in two days time, I’m aware.” You noted with a small nod, not even bothering to look up at him. You weren’t even surprised that he’d come here. It was inevitable he’d appear sooner rather than later. “I can only go as fast as I can and like I said, multiple reports are handed in at once. It’s a lot to go through.”

“Can the other administrators assist you-”

“Not without them neglecting their reports to process and this incident ends up getting larger.” You shook your head before settling your hands on the desk and looking up at him, Smoker immediately saw the tiredness in your eyes. He began to wonder how long this kept happening and today was the first time you decided to finally take action to prove a point. 

“Do you need anything?” He asked, eyeing the stacks of reports warily. He had to admit paperwork wasn’t his strength. You smiled softly, appreciating his offer but you shook your head. 

“Thank you but I’m fine.” 

Late that night Smoker was making his way through the corridors in his usual patrol before going to bed when he spotted the light coming through your open door. He knew you had a habit of staying up late but this was bad even for you. Were you forcing yourself to stay up even later to see process everyone as soon as possible? Smoker approached the door and saw you sleeping on the sofa against the wall in the room. You must have only intended to only take a small nap before going back to work again but your body had other ideas. Stepping inside he kept his steps as quiet as he could but it seemed he wasn’t quiet enough because you started to stir. “Smoker…”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.” Smoker told you but stopped beside you and saw you were still completely unconscious. You were dreaming and saying his name? Smoker couldn’t help but smirk when his name slipped from your lips again and you let out a small sigh.

“Be safe, Smoker…” You mumbled, your face scrunching in adorable annoyance. “Hand your report in on time.”

“Sure, you got it.” Smoker chuckled before reaching down to grab the blanket off the back of the sofa a drape it over you before leaving you to rest while also making sure to see to it that from now on everyone handed in their reports on time.

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