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#this was exhausting to write in such a short time y'all!
honnelander · 1 year
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go fish! part 2
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guyssss i did NOT expect this little series to blow up. y'all are amazing! i'm turning into a Sanji writing blog and am i mad about it? no lmao i received a couple of requests and i'll work on them as soon as i can. i'm really in the zone rn so i'll ride this wave as long as i can. if you want to be a part of the taglist for whenever i post new Sanji content, lmk. i hope you enjoy!
WARNINGS: none
word count: 2.8k
pairing: opla!sanji x fem!reader
summary: after being humiliated by Usopp earlier, reader stays in her room to decompress. however, she gets a visitor.
prequel part 1 part 3 part 4 masterlist
taglist: @smolracoon25 @mischiefmanaged71 @jovialcat123
Mortified. That’s how you felt. Still. 
Ever since you ‘forfeited’ from finishing your Go Fish card game with Usopp a couple of hours ago, you had taken your glass of water that Sanji had poured for you and boarded up in your shared room with Nami, refusing to come out due to “heat exhaustion”. 
Poor Luffy, ever the golden hearted captain, was immediately worried for your wellbeing as soon as he heard that but after multiple reassurances from you and getting up off of your hammock multiple times to prove you were in fact, just fine, he relented from wanting to stop by the nearest island so he could find a doctor for you. Usopp had managed to convince him as well that all you needed was some water, alone time, and that you would be fine by dinnertime. 
You rubbed your eyes as you let out a sigh, vowing to yourself that the next time you wanted some time by yourself, you should just take a bath or something, since any other excuse would cause someone on the crew (Luffy) to lose their mind at the thought of someone not feeling well. 
You readjusted yourself, sitting more upright, as you downed the last of your water, it being warm by this point since it had been poured by Sanji hours ago. 
Sanji. Ugh.  
Your heart fluttered once again at the mere thought of him, but that flutter was immediately replaced by a wave of crashing embarrassment at the thought of the afternoon’s sequence of events. What had happened earlier wasn’t even anything that groundbreaking or special, but to you? It was everything. It wasn’t common practice in your life for the object of your affections to be so kind towards you, so thoughtful, to read and anticipate your needs before you even knew they were even there. But Sanji? He was all of that and more. And you didn’t even know him for that long! You’ve all been a part of the straw-hat crew for 5 months at this point and it felt silly to admit to yourself that you had developed a crush on one of your crewmates in that short amount of time. 
And having feelings for your crewmate? Someone who you literally couldn’t get away from since you all were trapped on a ship together (not that you would ever want to be away from him or anyone else for that matter, besides Usopp, but still), it felt morally wrong. You guys were all a team. Sure, you all were off to sail around the world and chase dreams, but achieving all of that required teamwork and trust, and that was hard to do if two of those people were caught up with matters of the heart every hour of every day. 
Like, what if things didn’t work out in the end? Would you really want to put the crew’s dynamic at stake just because you thought the blonde guy was cute? No, you wouldn’t. It would be selfish so you would never dare to put yourself or Sanji in that position. No matter how much you liked him. 
So as much as it pained you, you could never tell Sanji how you feel. You would never cross that line of being a ‘professional pirate’ into something more, like a pirate wife. Or a pirate chef’s wife. 
It definitely didn’t help that freaking Usopp of all people on the crew knew about your affections for Sanji. Ugh, you groaned. He was the absolute worst person to know about it too. Why did he have to figure it out? Why did he have to be the one that had put two and two together to equal four? That your random bouts of awkwardness and shyness plus ‘heart eyes’ and blushes whenever Sanji was around equaled to you having a forbidden crush on the crew’s chef? It was embarrassing. And complicated.  
He loved to stir the pot too, so whenever he could tease you for it when you both were alone or in front of a clueless Sanji, he would. You remembered the kiss he had shared with Kayla back when the straw-hats had acquired the Going Merry, so you definitely jabbed him right back when you had had enough, since part of you felt guilty for it since Kayla was thousands of miles away and Sanji lived on this ship with you. Your situations were slightly similar but completely different.  
Also, completely different in the way that him and Kayla were basically dating at this point, albeit long distance, and had shared a kiss while you could barely sustain eye contact that lasted more than 5 seconds with Sanji. 
You were hopeless. 
“Knock, knock,” a familiar accented voice came through the closed door. “Y/n? Are you awake?” 
"Sanji?” you blurted out in complete surprise.  
Shit. You weren’t mentally prepared to see him just yet. At all. You were still replaying the interaction you both had earlier in your head, your overthinking mind going over every minute detail to figure out if Usopp’s careless teasing had given away your affections.  
Usopp, you mentally ground out. You were going to kill him. Sanji had never stopped by your room before so what on earth was he doing here now?  
Suddenly, a thought struck you like a bolt of lightning and made your stomach drop fifty miles below sea level: if Sanji had specifically stopped by your room just to gently let you down, that no, in fact he did not feel the same way about you, that he only thought of you as a member of the crew and nothing more....then yeah, you were definitely going to kill Usopp and throw him overboard. 
Before you could mentally plot out more details on Usopp's murder, the door opened and the straw-hat chef’s blonde head appeared. His eyes quickly scanned Nami’s empty hammock on the room’s left side before turning his head to the right, his blue eyes immediately finding your surprised ones, a (relieved?) smile lighting up his face at the sight of you. 
“So, I take it you’re awake?” Sanji asked in a light, teasing tone but not making an effort to move himself away from the doorway. 
“Uh, y-eah,” you stuttered out in surprise as you just stared at him dumbfounded. You still couldn’t figure out why he was here. 
Sanji continued to lock eyes with you, making your cheeks flush the longer you both stared at each other, and your palms sweat as the silence stretched on, making the tension in the air become thicker by the second. He blinked, his eyes darting to the side in confusion, raising an eyebrow as he asked, “May I come in?” 
“OH! Yes, of course- sorry,” you stuttered as you waved him inside, sitting up in your hammock and mentally face palmed yourself. Of course, Sanji was waiting on you to invite him inside. Like always, he was acting like a true gentleman. “Please, come in. Have a seat. Sorry, that was rude of me. Make yourself at home.” 
Sanji stood up to his full height and walked into your room with an easy smile and a small laugh, closing the door behind him. “Ah, don’t ever apologize y/n. You could never be rude to me,” Sanji rebuttalled and waved off your apology as he looked around and took in your very plain and basic shared room with Nami.  
Your room, or side of the room more specifically, wasn’t much to brag about considering you really didn’t have much to your name but for now, it was home to you. Your side consisted of your hammock, a wooden barrel next to it to act as a makeshift nightstand that housed your only book, a journal, and a lamp, along with an empty wooden crate to act as a makeshift seat and another to hold some of your other clothes and small travel bag. Nami’s side was similar to yours but had a touch more personality as she hung up some maps she found at various markets and drew up herself on her wall. 
You swallowed, suddenly feeling a tad self-conscious about the lack of things in your room considering your current guest was dressed, as usual, to the nines in his signature black suit and blue and white striped shirt complete with a skinny black tie. “Sorry for the sad state of my room-” 
“Sad?” Sanji stopped admiring your room and snapped his gaze to look at you. His eyebrows pulled together as another confused smile adorned his features. “Why would you say that? Your room isn’t sad, I like it. It’s a reflection of you,” his next words came out softer, “and I think that’s beautiful.” 
You could feel heat crawling up your neck at his words as you busied yourself with placing the empty glass in your hand on your barrel nightstand. There was no way Sanji was calling you beautiful, he was just commenting on your room. With Nami. On your shared room that owed any ounce of ‘personality’ to the ship’s navigator because it was obvious you literally brought nothing special to this room whatsoever.  
You stopped yourself from spiraling into ‘I don’t bring anything special to the straw-hats, I don’t know why they keep me around’ thoughts because now wasn’t the time to think about any of that. Those dark thoughts were reserved when you couldn’t sleep in the middle of the night.  
As you placed the glass on the nightstand, you asked, “So, what brings you all the way to my room? Aren’t you usually prepping for dinner around this time?” 
Sanji’s eyes followed your hand and lit up when he saw the sole book on your nightstand. “Oh, a book? I didn’t know you liked to read.” His megawatt smile lit up a couple of notches as his eyes sparkled, he looked like he had just learned one of the universe’s greatest mysteries as he took a seat near you on an empty crate. “What book is that?” 
“Oh, that?” You mentally deflated at the fact you now had to tell Sanji about your favorite book, “It’s Pride and Prejudice.”  
You weren’t ashamed of having that book specifically, you loved it and it was your favorite book of all time, you had lost count at how many times you had read it at this point, but it was the fact that you now had to share this part of yourself with the guy you fancied. Guys normally scoffed and turned their nose up at romance book and romantic things, so you were bracing for Sanji to scoff and laugh at you like all the other guys did (like even Zoro and Usopp did when they first saw you reading it) but it never came. 
Instead, Sanji’s smile remained bright. “Ah, so you’re a lover of classic romances? Pride and Prejudice? Romeo and Juliet?” 
Immediately, you smiled, finding yourself instantly comfortable suddenly whenever you got to talk about one of your favorite things. “Absolutely. I don’t think there’s a problem big enough out there that love can’t solve. Family backgrounds? Wealth and status? At the end of the day, none of that stuff matters. What matters is if two people love each other.” 
Sanji stayed quiet for a moment, looking into your eyes with a twinkle of an emotion that you couldn’t decipher. It made your heart skip a beat. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly, never breaking eye contact. “I agree.” 
You swallowed. “You like this stuff too? Have you read Pride and Prejudice?” 
Sanji blinked and that indescribable emotion he had in his eyes was gone. His smile remained, however, and became sheepish as he held up his hands, “Ah ok, you caught me. I’ve never read the full thing, but I know the main parts of the story. My favorite part that I did read though, was the first dinner with Mr. Collins and he complimented the Bennets on their ‘excellent boiled potatoes’.” 
You couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head slightly as you teased, “I should’ve known that the chef of the Going Merry’s favorite part of the book is when food is discussed!” 
The blonde cook held his hands up again with a good-natured laugh, “Ah, you got me!” His face softened as he asked, “What about you?" He nodded towards the book. "What’s your favorite part?” 
You paused for a second as you mulled the question over. “Well, I'm not sure if you know about this part since you never read the book...” 
“Try me,” he encouraged softly. 
Your face turned to the side, your eyes looking at the wooden wall to your right, unable to bring yourself to look at Sanji as you told him your favorite part of your favorite book. You took a deep breath to steady yourself and calm your nerves, your voice becoming quiet as you told him, “My favorite part is...when Mr. Darcy barges in on Elizabeth for the first time, while she’s at her friend Charlotte’s house writing a letter. He had come to practice ‘conversating’ with her since he admitted that it wasn’t something he was good at and she had told him to practice it. So, Mr. Darcy just barged in and they had one of the most painfully awkward conversations ever...and he did all that just because he loves her. He did something he hated and was bad at, and opened himself up to embarrassment just because he wanted to improve and be better for her. It’s so romantic and beautiful.” 
The air was quiet after your mini monologue and for a moment, nothing could be heard except for their quiet breathing and the occasional crash of the ocean from outside your small window. 
Part of you worried that your little rambling had bored Sanji, so when you finally looked at him, imagine your surprise when you found him leaning in towards you, hands clasped, elbows resting on his knees and his eyes watching you, completely engaged. It was like he was hanging onto your every word. 
Sanji scanned your face for a moment, the corner of his lips curling upwards as he said, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not familiar with that part in the book,” and before you could open your mouth to bring yourself down, he continued, “but, that doesn’t mean your answer is wrong.” He leaned back and slapped his hands against his thighs, “Hell, it’s a much more insightful answer than mine!” He laughed. “I just liked how they were poking some fun at boiled potatoes.” 
You laughed with him because yes, that part in the book also made you laugh as well. But at the mention of food, you realized that you still didn’t know why Sanji was here in the first place. Wasn’t he normally prepping for dinner at this time? He had to be running behind schedule at this point. 
“Why are you here, Sanji? Isn’t it almost time for dinner?” 
“Yeah, it is actually but I heard you weren’t feeling well so I wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re feeling alright and see if you have any special requests for dinner?” 
You couldn’t help the slight smile that overtook your face, trying to hide the blush at the fact that he was kind enough to check in on you and offer to practically be your own personal chef for the evening. 
You hummed for a moment, acting like you were deep in thought before asking with a raised eyebrow, "And what would you say if I requested some boiled potatoes?”  
The smile that lit up the chef’s face was priceless. He had never looked more beautiful. “To that, I would say ‘Absolutely. If that’s what the missus wants, then that is what the missus will get.’” 
Missus. There it was again. You felt all warm inside whenever he called you that, it made you feel like he was your husband and that you were his wife. But that wasn’t the case. Sanji definitely must have called other women that before. You weren’t special to him, he was just being polite.  
You swallowed down your emotions, putting your sudden wave of sadness away for later, putting on a small smile. “Then that sounds perfect. I would like to formally request some ‘excellent boiled potatoes’ as a side for dinner, please.” 
If Sanji noticed your sudden change in mood, he didn’t show it. Instead, he grinned as he said, “Excellent choice, Madam. Boiled potatoes, coming right up.” As he stood up and made his way towards your door, Sanji did one of the most unexpected things that nearly knocked the wind out of you. With his left hand on the doorknob he said, “And don’t worry, Madam. I’ll sprinkle in a little bit of extra love in there,” he turned and winked at you, “just for you.” 
With that, Sanji left your room, gently closing the door behind him, leaving you completely dumbstruck in your room, your mouth agape and body frozen. 
Did Sanji just say he loved you? 
You shook your head, because there was no way he did, right? He said he’d ‘sprinkle in some extra love’ into your potatoes, not 'I love you". You weren’t a chef, maybe that was a euphemism for something. 
You sighed.  
Those better be some good boiled potatoes. 
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bratzforchris · 7 months
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could you do one where chris and reader bring their daughter home from the hospital after she's just born? i love your writings!!!!
My Girl, C. Sturniolo
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*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚✧*:・゚*:・゚
Summary: In which bringing your and Chris's first baby home from the hospital results in a core memory<3
Pairing: Chris x feminine reader
Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of a difficult labor and its effects (not graphic!), young parents
Word Count: 974
A/N: Y'all my baby fever has been so bad lately (I'm 19 and single 🤡) and dad!Chris did NOT help. Thank you for the request and you cuties enjoy a fluffy Chris fic<33
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Chris gently lifted the enormous, pink carseat out of the back of the car, hoisting it onto his arm. He was beyond exhausted from the past three days. Granted, all he had ever wanted in life was to be a father, especially when you would be the mother. And so, he picked up the car seat with renewed energy, coming around the side of the car and opening up your door. 
“You good, ma?” he asked you, protective instincts kicking in as he watched you struggle to unbuckle your seat and step out of the car. 
“I just had a baby, dumbass. My hips are killing me and I’m wearing a diaper. What do you think the answer is?”
Between a long labor, the hustle and bustle of the hospital, and the typical aches and pains that came post-birth, you were a bit snappy after the events of the past three days. Nevertheless though, you planted a kiss on Chris’s cheek, eliciting a grin from your husband. 
“Glad to see the pregnancy didn’t take that fiery attitude I love so much.” Chris smiled, wrapping his arm around you to support you as you slowly walked with one hand and carrying the carseat that held your sleeping daughter in the other. 
 You two slowly began the trek up your front steps, with Chris supporting you the whole way. But before you could open the front door, it was flung open for you, revealing Nick and Matt. They stepped out quickly, eager to get a glimpse of their new niece. They exchanged squeals over how cute your baby girl was until Chris finally shoved them off, protective over his little family. 
“Can we get inside first?” he asked, rolling his eyes then smiling at you affectionately. 
The brothers allowed you to step inside the house, where both your and Chris’s parents were waiting, slightly more polite than his brothers. You quickly sat down on the couch with the help of your husband, winded from the short walk up the driveway. Chris quickly placed your daughter in your arms and sat beside you with a proud smile as everyone else gathered around on your large couch and on the rug. 
“So, have you two decided on a name?” Your mother asked excitedly, her eyes shining with joy. 
“We have,” You and Chris looked at each other and smiled as your daughter yawned in your arms, smacking her little lips. “Charlotte Marie Sturniolo.” You said in unison. 
Just as you spoke, Charlotte opened her eyes and yawned, letting out a tiny coo. Luckily, your families had been very respectful of your and Chris’s boundaries about holding her, especially since flu season was currently rampant. That didn’t deter anyone from letting out noises of affection at their new daughter, niece, and granddaughter, though. In your comical families, however, cute moments didn’t last long, which led to Nick piping up. 
“Can you say Lady Gaga?” he asked. “La-dy Ga-ga.”
Chris rolled his eyes, playfully kicking his brother, which received a giggle from you. “She’s a newborn.”
“I’m raising her to have culture.” Nick shrugged, flipping his hair across his forehead. 
As everyone continued to talk, your husband noted how you (and Charlotte) had become more quiet, snuggling into his side. He knew the whole birthing process had been extremely difficult on you, and selfishly, he really wanted some alone time with his little family. 
“Should we go upstairs?” he asked you, whispering in your ear and brushing a strand of hair away from your cheek. 
You nodded softly, already on the verge of falling asleep as you felt your infant daughter snuggle into you. “Yes please.” You whispered back.
“Well, we would love to keep chatting, but duty calls,” Chris helped you stand up, adjusting Charlotte so she could still cuddle onto your chest. “My girls need me.”
By the time you two had made it upstairs, you were exhausted, but could still hear the talking of your family below, murmuring softly about what great parents you two already were. Granted, it had only been a few days, but in your opinion, you both already were. Despite being on the younger side, you and Chris both loved your daughter with your whole heart, and that was what you wanted the most. 
“Thanks for what you did back there,” You yawned as Chris tucked you into bed after placing Charlotte, who was fast asleep, in her crib. “I’m really tired.” 
“I could tell,” Your husband bustled around the room, straightening things up to lessen the load on your plate. “You’re so strong, baby.”
You were almost asleep, but you could sense that Chris had stopped moving, which with your husband, meant he was up to something. “Chris? Baby, what are you doing?”
You peeked open your eyes, only for your heart to practically burst. Chris had taken his shirt off and removed your daughter’s onesie, allowing her to cuddle skin-to-skin on his chest. He smiled over at you as she yawned, fisting his skin. 
“Look!” he whisper-shouted with the biggest smile on his face. “We’re cuddling!” 
You smiled, enjoying the scene before you. “She looks so cozy.”
Chris began to sway and dance softly, singing ‘My Girl’ by The Temptations quietly. “My baby girl. God, I love you so much. You and your mommy are my rock, honey.”
You could hear the happy tears in your husband’s voice as he sang to Charlotte, and that was the moment you knew that you had made the right choice for the father of your children. Chris had been nothing but supportive throughout your whole pregnancy and labor, and it was clear he was carrying that energy into fatherhood as well. You took a mental snapshot, filing away this moment for later because you knew this would always be one you came back to.
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tags ♡: @aemrsy @idek3000hi @melguilbert @oobleoob
971 notes · View notes
goldfades · 5 months
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𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 / 𝐖𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎 ─ PB⁵
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౨ৎ ─ summary | request! -> "paige with teammate!reader? it’d be soo cute i think" | you and paige were best friends on and off the court, and after an exhilarating win you spend the time together, relishing in the win (and each other)
─ word count | 2.7k
─ warnings | mention of drinking/partying, slightly suggestive, just idiots who are in love with one another, touchy paige (obvs), slightly oblivious reader, energy drink abuse 🤑, lots of teasing/banter, confession that turns into ... A SWEET KISS DUHHH
─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @boiliatfu and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!
─ ev's notes | i hope y'all enjoyed, this may a little too fast-paced but i would totally be down to writing a whole full-fleshed out fic on just this concept cus it's so cute! anyway, enjoy!
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"THERE IS NO WAY we're gonna drink right now," Azzi yawned as she leaned back into the hotel bed.
You and Paige exchanged glances before laughing, your expressions both mirroring one another. You were both still high off of the win, you weren't sure how everyone was up right now screaming with excitement. But there was still some exhaustion lingering in Paige's expression ─ of course you didn't blame her, she'd played the entire time.
The whole team was downstairs celebrating right now but the three of you decided to take a short break and go back to Azzi's room to relax. That 'short' break turned into fifteen minutes and then now, it's been almost forty.
"I'm gonna go to bed," Azzi continued.
You groaned dramatically as you rolled your eyes. "Oh come on, Azzi."
Before Paige could join you, Azzi gave you both a pointed look. You realized that there was no way either of you could convince her to come back downstairs so you just sighed. You and Paige glanced at each other again before she gestured to get up and the both of you got up from Azzi's bed.
You got up and made your way to the door while Paige followed behind you. "So, we gonna go back downstairs or..."
"My room?" Paige's eyebrows raised as you gave her a grin and nodded. Paige's hand instinctively found a place on the small of your back as she began leading you to her room.
As she led you to her room, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement mixed with a tinge of nervousness. Sure, you and Paige had been close friends for years, but there was always an underlying tension between you, something unspoken yet very noticable.
Once inside Paige's room, she closed the door behind you with a soft click. The room was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the bedside lamp casting a warm glow across the room.
Paige didn't waste any time, she crashed into the bed with a thud and an exhausted groan as you let out a small laugh. "I'm so sore," she groaned as you joined her on the bed.
She glanced up to meet your gaze with a smile. "How tired are you, from like... one to ten?"
"Maybe like... a six?" You responded as you leaned back on the headboard. "Why?"
"Just wanted to make sure you won't fall asleep, like last time." Paige teased as you rolled your eyes.
"That was one time!" You you protested with a playful swat at Paige's arm. "And I was exhausted from the bus ride, you can't blame me for dozing off."
Paige chuckled as she sat up and scooted closer to you. "Sure, sure. We'll just have to make sure tonight is more exciting than whatever boring movie we were watching last time."
"Yeah well, I don't think I'm falling asleep. I had like, three redbulls." You mention casually as Paige's jaw drops slightly.
"Dude, that's so bad for you." Paige's expression was filled with concern but she couldn't help the amusement in her tone. "Jeez, you're gonna have a heart attack right here, on my bed."
You shrugged nonchalantly, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "It's worth it for the win, don't you think?"
Paige chuckled, shaking her head in amusement. "You're crazy, you know that?"
"Yeah, but you love me anyway," you teased, nudging her playfully with your elbow.
Paige's laughter filled the room, warm and infectious. "Yeah, yeah, I guess I do," she admitted with a smile, her eyes softening as she looked at you.
You noticed how her gaze lingered on your features for far longer than any friend would have and you definitely didn't miss the way she wet her lips as she looked away. Your stomach flipped and you felt yourself begin to feel warm, you had no idea why little things like that made your heart race and your breath catch in your throat.
Was it just the adrenaline from the game, or was there something more?
"Have you showered yet?" Paige asked, seemingly out of nowhere as you laughed at her randomness.
"Yeah, right after the game. Did you?"
Paige sighed as she leaned back into the bed, a yawn escaping her lips. "I did but only my body, I haven't washed my hair. I wanna shower but I also wanna stay here, with you."
"Well you can do both," you replied as Paige's smirk widened. You quickly rolled your eyes as a blush began to appear on your face. "Not like that, I meant you can shower and then I'll just hang out in your room."
"Or you can come in the bathroom with me," Paige got up from the bed. "So we can talk and stuff, just look away when I'm naked."
You couldn't help but laugh at Paige's suggestion, the blush on your cheeks deepening at the thought of being so close to her in such an intimate setting.
"Are you sure about that?" you teased, trying to hide your nerves behind a playful tone.
Paige shrugged nonchalantly. "Why not? It's not like we haven't seen each other naked before."
You chuckled nervously, you couldn't argue with that logic. Your cheeks flush at the memory of the countless times you and Paige had shared changing rooms or gone swimming together.
After years of friendship, there were few boundaries left between you and Paige. Still, the idea of being alone with her in the warm confines of the bathroom sent a rush of nervousness through you.
"Yeah, but this is different," you pointed out, feeling a flutter of excitement mixed with nervousness at the prospect.
Paige's smile softened, and she reached out to gently squeeze your hand. "It's okay, I promise I won't make it weird. We're just two friends hanging out, right?"
"Fine, okay." You sighed as you let Paige pull you into the bathroom. You quickly faced the door as Paige ran the water to the hottest temperature.
As Paige stepped into the shower, you took a seat on the closed toilet lid, trying your best to keep your gaze averted as she began to lather up her hair. You kept your gaze fixed firmly on the door, trying to ignore the tantalizing temptation of stealing a glance at Paige. I mean, if she was in your situation, she definitely wouldn't have hid her ultimate glimpse.
Paige's voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present moment. "So, how's your shoulder feeling after the game?"
You blinked, grateful for the distraction. "Oh, it's not too bad," you replied. You had injured your shoulder at practice a couple weeks ago and it didn't hurt too bad anymore, Paige was just being over-protective.
Paige nodded, her movements becoming more relaxed. "That's good. I almost lost my shit when that girl hit your shoulder, I thought she hurt you or something."
You laughed as you shook your head. "I know, I could tell. It got us a foul shot, didn't it?"
Paige chuckled, a hint of relief evident in her voice. "I know, a win's a win. I'm glad it didn't hurt too bad, though. I would've killed her if she got you even more injured,"
You grinned at Paige's protective streak, appreciating the fierce loyalty she had always shown you. "I don't doubt it for a second,"
"Good cus I would've, trust me." Paige joked as she finished up her shower and stepped out, causing you to shut your eyes. Paige laughed as she rolled your eyes at your dramatics.
"Alright, drama queen," Paige teased, reaching for a towel to dry off. "You can open your eyes now."
You both made your way out of the bathroom, you got on the bed with a thud as Paige began to get dressed. You kept your eyes on the phone screen, ignoring Paige's laughter. After she'd gotten dressed, she put on her glasses on got into bed.
You felt the mattress shift as Paige settled in beside you, her warmth radiating against your side. You finally tore your gaze away from your phone screen, unable to resist the urge to sneak a glance at her. She looked effortlessly beautiful, her hair still slightly damp from the shower, her glasses perched on her nose.
"You played good tonight," Paige spoke as she smiled contently at you. This moment felt really intimate, the dimmed lights and the warmth of being so close to Paige. "And you looked so damn good," her tone was amused but you didn't miss the slightly serious undertone beneath her words.
"Thanks," your voice was soft as you returned her smile, feeling a warmth spread through you at her compliment. "You were amazing out there too but I'm sure you don't need me to tell you."
Paige's smile widened at your words, a hint of color rising to her cheeks. "Well, it wouldn't hurt," she joked as you let out a chuckle. "But seriously, though," she continued, her gaze locking with yours, "you looked incredible tonight. I couldn't take my eyes off you."
Your heart skipped a beat at Paige's words, it was rare for her to be so openly affectionate and genuine, and yet here she was, laying her feelings bare for you to see.
Before you could gather your thoughts, Paige continued. "I'm proud of you, genuinely. Tonight was just kind of like..." she paused, unsure of how to say it. "I don't know, but I just admire you a lot. In more ways than one."
"What do you mean?" Your voice came out quiet and slightly breathless as your heart raced.
Paige laughed nervously. "I don't know, I've always thought you were really pretty. And super funny, you always match my vibe. You took care of me when I was injured and even in my worst moments I never felt like you were against me. I like being around you and like... it's different than with KK or Ice or anyone else on the team, or anyone else I know."
"Am I... uh, making you uncomfortable?" Paige spoke after a pause.
You took a moment to process Paige's words, feeling a whirlwind of emotions swirling within you. Her confession caught you off guard, but at the same time, it filled you with a sense of ease.
"No, God, no. Not at all," you reassured her quickly, your voice soft, reaching out to gently squeeze her hand. "I'm just... I'm really glad you feel that way. Because I feel the same, you know? Being around you, it's like... it's like being home."
If this was any other moment or any other person, you'd be cringing at that. But that was the honest-to-God truth and the only way you could possibly explain how she makes you feel.
Paige's gaze softened, a hint of relief flickering in her eyes. "Really?"
You nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, really. You're one of the most incredible people I know, Paige. And... I'm just really grateful to have you in my life."
"I've been meaning to tell you that for a while now," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I was scared of how you'd react. I didn't want to ruin our friendship or make things weird between us, especially with the team and all."
"Me too, I don't know when I started liking you like that but when I realized it, I was like 'oh shit'." You joked as you let out a nervous laugh, trying to lighten the mood.
Paige's lips curled into a grin, laughing along with you. "Yeah, 'oh shit' pretty much sums it up,"
There was a moment of silence for a couple seconds as you glanced back at Paige, feeling the weight of the moment. You'd just confessed your feelings for the girl you'd liked since... well, since the moment you'd met her, basically.
"So, what now?" You whispered as you broke the silence, feeling her gaze on you.
Paige's gaze softened as she met your eyes, a tender smile playing at her lips. She took your hand in her lap, pulling you closer. You mirrored her smile as her hand moved up to cup your cheek, you felt your breath hitch as her gaze moved down to your lips.
In that moment, time seemed to slow down as Paige's touch sent a rush of warmth coursing through you. You couldn't tear your eyes away from hers, the intensity of the moment holding you captive.
"We take things one step at a time," Paige whispered, her voice barely above a murmur, yet it echoed in the quiet space between you. "And right now, I want to be here with you."
Paige's gaze flickered up to meet yours, her eyes dark with emotion. "Is this okay?
You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. "More than okay," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart.
Paige leaned in closer, her breath mingling with yours as she closed the distance between you. The touch of her lips against yours was soft and careful, it felt like time slowed down. She pulled you even closer as you let her explore your mouth, letting a pleased noise.
You melted into the kiss, feeling a surge of emotion swell within you as Paige's warmth enveloped you in a comforting embrace. It was as if everything you had ever felt for her, every longing and desire, was finally being realized in one single, perfect moment.
Time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the sweetness of the kiss, the world around you fading away as you surrendered to the overwhelming rush of excitement coursing through you.
You were too enveloped in the kiss to hear the hotel room open, the only thing either you felt was the weight of one another.
"Oh shit!" KK's voice made you two pull away from each other as quickly as you could, your eyes wide as you caught your breath. Ice quickly followed behind her, looking confused until she took in the scene in front of her.
You and Paige scrambled to compose yourselves, cheeks flushed and hearts racing as you exchanged glances. KK stood in front of the bed, her eyes wide with surprise but her lips curved into a smirk, while Ice stared at the two of you with a mixture of confusion and amusement.
"You owe me 50$ dollars," Ice blurted as she looked back at KK, a smile on her face.
"Shit, yeah. I should've listened to you and Aubrey." KK rolled her eyes as you and Paige exchanged confused looks.
"What are you talking about?" You asked, a note of confusion in your voice.
"We made a bet on whether you two would finally admit your feelings for each other tonight," Ice explained, her tone amused. "KK said that you guys would confess to each other later but me and Aubrey could tell, tonight would be the night."
Paige's eyebrows shot up in surprise, her lips forming an 'o' of realization. "Wait, you guys were betting on us?" she exclaimed, annoyance in her tone.
KK chuckled, nodding. "Uh, yeah. It wasn't like you guys hid it very well."
"Paige had the worst case of heart eyes I've ever seen... like ever," Ice added, unable to suppress a smirk. "I mean, it was practically written all over her face every time she looked at you."
Paige's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but she couldn't suppress a smirk at Ice's teasing. "Can you blame me? Have you seen her?"
Your cheeks flushed as you averted from their gaze, feeling a mix of embarrassment and flattery at Paige's words. You couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth spread through you at her compliment, even as you tried to conceal your blush.
Ice and KK exchanged amused glances, their smiles widening at the banter between you and Paige. "Well, I think it's safe to say the feeling's mutual," KK remarked with a grin.
You glanced back at Paige, feeling a surge of affection for her as you met her gaze.
"I take either cash or Apple Pay, your choice." Ice glanced at KK as she groaned, taking out her wallet. But your gaze didn't falter from Paige as her hand found yours under the blanket, squeezing it.
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↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡
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dixons-sunshine · 5 months
Note
Sleepy!reader falling asleep all the time on Daryl’s shoulder,Chest,Arm anywhere in car ride or meeting with group and everyone teasing him and her about it
Sleepyhead | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Life in a world ravaged by the undead was hard. Constantly wondering where you'd find your supplies, whether your loved ones were safe and whether you'd die that day was exhausting. That exhaustion caught up with you, but thankfully, Daryl was more than willing to be your temporary pillow, even at the expense of getting teased about it.
Genre: Fluff.
Era: Prison, post season three, pre season four.
Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sleep deprivation.
Word count: 768.
A/n: This is really short, but I really didn't have it in me today to write anything long, so I wrote this little fic instead. I feel like this isn't exactly like what was requested, but I hope you like this nonetheless!
➳༻❀✿❀༺➳
“Aw, the two of you are so adorable.”
“Glenn, get your camera. We need to get a picture of this.”
“Who knew you could be so soft, Daryl?”
The sound of laughter pulled you out of the black abyss of sleep you were nearly lost in. As everyone continued talking to the archer who's chest you found yourself rested against, you could clearly hear the teasing tones in everyone's voices, and it nearly made you smile—however, that would blow your cover and show everyone that you had woken up again. You wanted to see how Daryl handled the situation.
Barely even fifteen minutes prior, you had been sat against the wall of the lower level of the cellblock as everyone participated in a game of truth or dare. However, not too long into the game, you had yawned and rested your head back against the wall. You were extremely tired, the nights of sleeplessness finally knocking on your door in the form of exhaustion. As you had closed your eyes, you could distinctly feel the arms of someone wrapping around your shoulders, and your cheek had found itself rested upon a firm yet soft surface—that surface you now knew to be Daryl's chest—and a blanket had been draped around you.
“If y'all dun' shut the fuck up righ' now, I'll throw this goddamn pot at yer heads,” Daryl grumbled, subconsciously tightening his arms around you and readjusting the blanket that he had draped around the both of you to fight off the chill the night exhibited. “She ain't been gettin' any sleep lately. S'the first time she's slept in days. If y'all wanna make fun'a me, do it tomorrow when ya dun' run the risk'a wakin' her up.”
“Aw, Daryl,” Michonne awed teasingly, sharing a small laugh with Carl, who watched the exchange in amusement. “You're so sweet. Who would've thought that you'd actually be a big teddy bear instead of this brooding, scary guy you pretend to be?”
“She did,” Rick laughed, motioning over to you. “Look at her. She managed to make Daryl hold her in front of all of us. I thought that would be impossible.”
“Piss off, Grimes,” Daryl replied, ducking his head to hide the blush that spread over his face. Somehow, without even having to shrug you off first, Daryl got up and held you bridal style, regarding the amused faces of his friends once more before turning around. “M'takin her to bed. Nigh', assholes.”
Laughter followed him as he climbed the stairs to your shared cell. You nuzzled your face into his chest and tried to hide your smile, vehemently amused by the situation Daryl had just escaped. You knew that the two of you wouldn't hear the end of what had happened downstairs, but you had no problem with a little teasing over something as tender as Daryl holding you.
Soon, Daryl layed you down on the bed and climbed in behind you, adjusting the covers around the both of you. The archer grumbled something to himself before pressing himself against your back, wrapping his arms around you.
Finding it the perfect moment to add some teasing of your own, you rested your hand over his that rested around you. “They're right, you know. You are really sweet.”
A few beats of silence passed until Daryl spoke up. “Ya were awake the whole time?”
“No, not the whole time,” you corrected. “I woke up because everyone was laughing too loud. I'm glad I did, though. I'd hate to miss any opportunity to see you get so flustered.”
“Yer the worst,” Daryl mumbled, nuzzling his face into your shoulder blade.
“Yeah, I am,” you giggled. “You love me, though.”
A long moment of silence passed. You thought that Daryl had fallen asleep already, but soon he tightened his arms around you and pressed a kiss to the exposed skin on your shoulder.
“Yeah, I do love ya, sleepyhead.”
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wnbnny · 5 months
Text
gone - b.c
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genre: angst, breakup
synopsis: you shouldn't have married me. the words rang in your head, eyes widening ever so slightly as your fragile heart finally shattered like a piece of glass, the final blow delivered by chan's words.
word count: 0.4k (short drabble)
author's note: just a short drabble to keep y'all entertained while i write my longer fics:]
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"why can't you just leave me alone??" chan was on the brink of exhaustion, and you nagging at him was not helping at all.
"chan-" you began, but was cut off by him almost immediately. "no! you tell me to sleep every single day, you call me 15 times in one day, you won't let me have even a single fucking second to myself!" chan's hands gripped at his hair as he yelled, gesturing around wildly.
"i just tell you to take care of yourself! you stay up until 3am in the morning, never eat and starve yourself, you never even say a fucking goodbye in the morning when you leave!" you yelled, lips wobbling as you felt all the pent-up emotions starting to expand, rising and rising until it was pushing against the walls of your heart and threatening to explode.
"do you know how shitty it feels to have a fucking husband that feels like a long-distance boyfriend? you don't even say goodbye, you come back at 4am every day, and i haven't even seen you in a month-" you stop, a sob threatening to escape, so you compressed your trembling lips into a straight line keep the tears in, though it was a futile attempt.
"well you shouldn't have even fucking married me then! i don't need a fucking second mother bossing me around every single second of the day! this marriage isn't even fucking working!"
you shouldn't have married me.
the words rang in your head, eyes widening ever so slightly as your fragile heart finally shattered like a piece of glass, the final blow delivered by chan's words. you could only stand in place, frozen and rooted in place, tears finally cascading down your face.
"wait- no, shit-" chan could only stammer as he watched your face fall, instantly regretting what he had just carelessly uttered.
"fine." one word, yet said with so much finality. the one word that broke his heart.
hand shaking, you brought your right hand to your left, finally twisting the small band encrusted with sparkling diamonds off. your wedding ring.
how ironic, that the symbol of your love would become the symbol of your separation.
you slammed the ring down on the counter, grabbed your coat and keys, and walked out the front door. he knew your heart was gone, the frayed rope holding your relationship together by a thread finally snapping with the sharp knife of his words.
you were gone.
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redroses07 · 3 months
Text
Just Friends // Stiles Stilinski
Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader
WC:1.7k
Summary: Stiles is struggling after being controlled by the Nogitsune, and he turns to you for help. But little does he know, it will turn your friendship into so much more. Takes place after season 3. (Allison isn't dead!!!)
Warnings: Swearing, angsty as fuck, sad Stiles, kissing, implied smut if you squint?, PTSD.
A/N: HI GUYS!!! I really like this fic and ofc I hope y'all will too! This is my first time writing about Stiles and I think I did pretty well! As always, enjoy!! And comments and reblogs are appreciated. P.S. lmk if y'all want me to do a part 2 where they tell their friends (Scott's reaction hee hee) - Claire ♡
After Stiles was released from the control of the Nogitsune, things seemed to go back to normal. Well, at least that’s what one would think from the outside.
The series of events had taken a severe toll on Stiles’s mental health, and even though he did a good job of hiding it, you were the one person who seemed to know what he needed.
It all started about a week after everything happened, it was the middle of the night and you were jolted awake by the sound of your phone buzzing by your head.
You were about to hit decline but then you saw it was Stiles and feelings of worry began to stir within you.
You quickly answered, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes as you forced yourself awake.
"Stiles, is everything okay?"
"Yeah...well not really. I hate to ask, but do you think you could drive over to my house. I just really don't want to be alone right now." Stiles's voice was groggy, and laced with exhaustion. The fact alone that he was asking you this made you immediately agree.
You hopped out of bed, not bothering to change out of your pajamas, slipped on your slippers, and you were on your way.
Your house wasn't far from Stiles's, about a five minute drive with no traffic.
You lived directly in the middle of him and Scott, being only a short distance from each. The close proximity was the main reason the three of you had stayed so close throughout your school years.
"Friends", that's all you and Stiles had ever been. Although, neither of you could deny the chemistry between the two of you, risking your friendship never seemed worth it.
It was on this night that all that would begin to change.
When you arrived at Stiles's house, he had left the door unlocked for you so you wouldn't have to fumble around with the spare key in the dark.
You found Stiles laying on his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. He looked lost in thought, his eyes rimmed with dark circles. It hurt seeing him look so drastically different from the Stiles you knew, and you wanted to do whatever you could to help.
You laid down next to him, your body facing his.
"Hey..." Stiles began, still staring at the ceiling.
"Stiles, what's going on? You know you can trust me with anything right?"
"Yeah...It's just a lot to put into words." Stiles's voice cracked, which told you that he was fighting tears.
You sat up and stiles copied the movement. You were now both facing each other, sitting legs crossed on his bed. You pushed aside the unspoken vow between the two of you and placed his hands in yours. Stiles's breath hitched, and you could tell he was avoiding eye contact with you.
"Take all the time you need, I'll listen to every word." you said softly.
"I know everyone thinks I'm doing okay, but I can't even function. I can't sleep without having nightmares. I can't eat or do anything without remembering all the awful stuff he made me do. I didn't know who else to tell except you. Scott has his own set of issues, and you're the only person I trust like this."
Stiles began to ramble, and your heart broke as he did. How had you not noticed earlier? Yes, it had only been a week, but you knew Stiles better than anyone. You felt like an awful best friend.
"I'm so tired, I just want to feel normal again." He could no longer hold back the tears, the dam broke and Stiles became a sobbing mess.
You pulled him into your arms with no hesitation, which only made Stiles want to cry.
"No, no I'm going to get your clothes all wet." Stiles protested trying to pull away, but you wouldn't let him.
"A few tears never hurt anyone." You said.
At that Stiles let himself fall into you, his body going limp with exhaustion. You tried not to cry along with him, wiping your burning eyes to prevent the tears.
"It'll be okay." You whispered as Stiles's sobs turned into sniffles. He finally looked up, his cheeks wet from the tears that had escaped his puffy eyes.
You did the only thing you could think of and gave him two kisses, one peck on each cheek. Stiles lips turned up in a small smile, his cheeks still turning red despite his current state.
"I think the first thing we need to do is get you to bed." You smiled, pushing Stiles's messy hair back.
He looks at you and nods without moving from your arms. You lean back on his bed, pulling him with you. You positioned yourself to where Stiles was resting on top of your body, his head pressed to your chest. You kept your arms wrapped around him, squeezing his body in an attempt to comfort him.
As you were settling down you heard Stiles whisper your name softly.
"Yeah?"
"Promise you'll wake me up if I'm having a nightmare?"
"I promise." You replied as you reached down and laced your fingers with his.
Stiles gave you a half-hearted smile in response, his puffy eyes glazed over from fatigue.
"Thank you." Stiles murmured, fighting sleep.
"Shhh." Was your only response as you traced your fingers along his back.
"I love you." It was an incoherent whisper, so much that you couldn't be sure of his words. But something told you you had heard correctly.
By the time you went to reciprocate the statement, the room was filled with Stiles's muffled snores.
You sighed and proceeded to fall asleep yourself.
Stiles slept through the night for the first time in weeks.
After that the trajectory of your relationship began to shift.
From holding Stiles's hand to remind him that everything was okay when you were with your friends, to staying up all night listening to him talk.
You rarely got to sleep at home anymore, but you didn't mind. You weren't far if you needed something, and it helped Stiles get a good night's sleep. Yet he would still apologize every time. "I'm sorry to bother you again.", "I promise this is the last time.", when in reality you were definitely okay with an excuse to spend more time with him.
You had become his anchor to reality, and Stiles could feel things beginning to look up with every day that passed.
Your friends picked up on it too.
"So, are you and Stiles together, or..." Lydia and Allison asked when they managed to corner you at your locker one day. It was a question you didn't know how to answer. Eventually landing on, 'it's complicated.'
"What's going on with you and Stiles, I'm starting to feel like a third wheel when we're together." It was a joke, but there was certainly some truth behind it.
You laughed it off and changed the subject, but didn't forget the comment that night when you and Stiles laid in each other's arms drifting off to sleep.
Surprisingly, it wasn't you who finally brought it up, but Stiles.
It was a Friday night, and the two of you were at your house instead of his.
"Shit, I forgot clothes to change into." Stiles said as he fumbled through his backpack.
"It's all good, I have a spare pair of clothes in my drawer for you." You replied, pointing to the dresser.
Stiles smiled and laughed, holding eye contact with you for perhaps a moment too long.
"You take care of so much for me, sometimes I feel like you're my wife." It was a casual statement, but it put you at a loss for words.
You laughed awkwardly, failing to come up with a reply.
Stiles could very clearly read your emotions, he pushed the drawer shut and walked back over to sit next to you.
You tried to calm yourself, but your heart wouldn't stop beating at what felt like an unhealthy pace.
"You're my best friend..." Stiles began, taking your clammy hands in his.
"You've done so much for me in the past few weeks, just like a best friend should; but I can't help thinking that this feels like something more."
You felt as if the world stopped. You knew this conversation would come, but definitely not now. Your brain seemed to stop producing thoughts.
"Please tell me I'm not imagining all of this. I know this is a lot at once, but Y/N I love you." Stiles's voice shook from the overwhelming nerves.
"I love you too." You spoke for the first time in minutes, it felt amazing after you had heard it fall from his lips that first night you spent together.
Stiles's eyes gazed into yours, and suddenly the feeling of just your hands touching wasn't enough.
You reached over and grabbed Stiles face, finally closing the gap between the two of you.
You pulled Stiles down as you did, his body landing on top of you sinking into the kiss.
You tugged on his hair lightly, pulling him as close to you as humanly possible. Stiles fell deeper into the kiss, locking your hands together and pressing your body further into the soft mattress.
After a few minutes of pure bliss you broke apart. The air that filled your lungs was both a blessing and a curse. You needed to breathe, but the absence of his touch only made you want him more.
Stiles hovered over you, the sound of his heavy breathing was the only thing you could hear over your own beating heart.
"So I take it you're not just my best friend anymore?" Stiles giggled, pressing his forehead gently against yours.
"Nope."
You gave a sly smile before pulling Stiles down by his shirt and connecting your lips once more.
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bumblesimagines · 1 month
Text
Blood of The Dragon
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Request: Yes or No
Summary: Still reeling from the death of Lucerys Velaryon and the failed assassination attempt that resulted in the death of Jaehaerys, Aemond seeks out his closest kin.
Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader
TW/CW: Typical HOTD warnings, spoilers for S2, brief Targcest (Older Brother-Younger Brother), (Y/N) is the twin of Helaena, mentions of the deaths of children (Luke and Jaehaerys), blatant manipulation but Aemond is touch-starved so, potentially ooc Aemond im still figuring out how to write him, kinda short
WFMF may take a bit to come out y'all! I'm waiting to get my hands on the book again so I can finally decide if/what I'll change from the show and what I'll keep.
~~~
Aemond scarcely paid the Small Council meeting any heed, his gaze shifting between staring at his brother's exhausted, dead-eyed expression and studying the golden coin pinched between his thumb and index finger. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over the design etched into the coin and felt a strike of dread squeeze around his throat. The coin continuously served as a reminder of how close Daemon's vermin had been to stealing the air from his lungs, and how cruelly they'd taken his little nephew's head instead. 
Aegon looked ruined, his anger and grief coaxing him into sinking further and further into his cups until he could no longer comprehend the words fleeing his mouth. Aemond found it pathetic most days, for the 'rightful' heir to be a whiny drunk, but now he found it in himself to be sympathetic toward him. Aemond knew little of losing a child but the death of an innocent child he watched grow up still struck pain in his gut. He never expected their older half-sister to be so cruel. 
With the meeting ending swiftly after reaching nothing new or useful, Aemond retreated from the room in long strides that took him down the many halls of the Keep. His thoughts continued in circles, reminding him of young Luke and the horror that'd washed over him when he watched Vhagar snap her jaws around him and his dragon. The younger dragon had fallen to bloody bits from the sky and into the vast ocean below, washing up on a beach or so he'd heard. He hadn't desired such an outcome but he knew his words would fall on deaf ears when everyone whispered 'Kinslayer' behind his back. 
Before he knew it, his legs had taken him to his older sister's room and he entered with some hesistance, unsure of what he could possibly say or do that'd ease the pain of losing a child. He immediately spotted Helaena seated on the floor with her skirt spread around her and her hands occupied with finishing an embroidery. Her fingers moved automatically, muscle memory from all the times she'd spent doing needlework. Her pale eyes remained distant, however, and red from constant weeping. Aemond always knew Helaena to be the most sensitive out of all his children but he'd never seen her cry before. 
"Aemond," Helaena's twin, (Y/N), greeted him, his head tilted downwards from his spot on the couch as he brushed out the knots in Helaena's hair until her silver hair was smooth and detangled enough to braid. He set the brush aside and began braiding, a process he'd long become acquainted with when young Helaena refused to be touched by the maids. "Do you require something?"
"I wished to see how our sister was doing," Aemond replied and clasped his hands behind his back, grimacing when his words brought no reaction out of their sister. She'd always been a girl of little words but she never failed to at least offer acknowledgment with short words or glances. Helaena merely continued to thread her needle through the fabric.
"She is tired, Aemond. We all are." (Y/N) spoke, finishing the braid and letting it rest along Helaena's back. He leaned forward and pressed a fleeting kiss to the top of her head, his hands sliding down to cup her elbows and help her rise onto her swaying feet. Aemond made no move to offer his help, for he knew it'd be rejected whilst Helaena remained in such a state. 
Aemond lowered his gaze to the floor and stepped aside, his head bowed as (Y/N) led Helaena to her bed and helped tug the covers up to her waist. He offered quiet words of comfort before peeling himself from the edge of the bed and approaching Aemond, casting him a brief glance as the two stepped outside.
(Y/N) lingered until the doors to her bedchambers shut and the guards resumed their positions, his arms folding over his chest and face unreadable, as was typical of his brother. The twins had always been an unpredictable sort, no one ever truly deciphering what went through their minds. Aemond found it troubling at times, being unable to read him as he did Aegon, but he trusted him regardless. 
"Where was Cole, I wonder." (Y/N) simply said, his feet moving and voice devoid of everything but a flicker of annoyance that tugged Aemond's attention toward him. The one-eyed prince caught up with his older brother in quick strides, the direction they headed in being toward (Y/N)'s own chambers.
"He claimed to be abed." (Y/N)'s lips pressed into a line at his response. Aemond's brow twitched upward. "Cole is-"
"Cole is but a child surrounded by toys yet desires the prettiest one, one that belongs to another and should never be allowed into his foolish hands." His brother looked him directly in the eye when the doors to his chambers were opened for him, violet eyes as cold as ever. "He is pathetic."
Aemond swiped his tongue over his dry lips and followed his brother inside the room, his fingers tightening around his wrist. "Do you speak of Ser Criston... or me, dear brother?" He asked once the doors shut, leaving them in the silence of (Y/N)'s bedchambers, the air as chilly as the attitude of the older Targaryen. (Y/N) scoffed quietly and poured himself tea that'd no doubt gone tepid in his absence. "Have I not served our King faithfully enough?"
The prettily decorated teapot clattered against the wood of the table it'd sat upon, (Y/N)'s head raising to stare at Aemond. "Ao tymptan Jaes se vēttan aōla iā mittys." Aemond could hear the anger in his tone, barely contained but somehow pushed back to slowly drip through. "The boy you needlessly slaughtered was no Velaryon but he was our sister's child. Īlva ānogar. They killed Jaehaerys to avenge that child, Aemond. Helaena paid the consequences of your actions."
"Would you have preferred they kill me instead, then?" Aemond bristled.
"I would have preferred hearing of your success at Storm's End and how the princeling returned to Dragonstone without an alliance." (Y/N) snapped back, curling his fingers around his teacup and sipping from its contents. Aemond inhaled deeply, his jaw clenching and unclenching; teeth slowly grinding together and the tension in his shoulders easing into a sag. 
Aemond walked forward, his hand lifting to tug the eyepatch from his face and letting it fall onto the table as he took a seat. (Y/N) followed his movements with keen eyes and a deep frown, one of the few times his brother so outwardly showed his disapproval toward him. They stared at each other for a few quiet moments, the coin searing a hole through Aemond's pocket. 
"I only meant to frighten him. I did not wish such harm upon him; I did not want him dead or gravelly injured. I... feel sorry for how things occurred between him and I. I did not... I did not mean to bring pain upon Helaena or Aegon." Aemond leaned forward, broad hands pressing into the back of (Y/N)'s thighs to pull him closer gently whilst his forehead rested along his lower stomach. He exhaled softly when (Y/N) placed his palm upon the back of Aemond's head, fingers running through his hair. "I allowed foolish emotions to best me." 
"Foolish emotions you've stewed in for years, Aemond. You are man-grown and a prince... a third-born son who will never sit the throne." His nostrils flared with a sharp inhale of air and he leaned away, back pressing into the chair and lips pressing tightly together. (Y/N) watched him, palm pressing back the strands that went astray with his movements before he curled his fingers around Aemond's chin and forced him to keep his head tilted upwards. "I am the King's heir, now that they've killed our poor nephew, just as you killed the other. Aegon had potential, Aemond, whether you believe it or not." 
"He is a drunk-"
"Yes, but he pleased the smallfolk before sinking into his cups. They were happy and eager to accept him as their ruler. He will now ignore them, and with the ever-impulsive Cole at his side... it will not be long before we are ruined by one or the other, Aemond." (Y/N)'s thumb delicately stroked along his cheek, his eyes softening but the coldness tittering at the edges. Aemond leaned into his touch, his knitted brows easing as he soaked in the words of his brother.
"Aegon cannot rule, and neither can Cole," Aemond murmured, pressing himself further into (Y/N)'s hand when his brother gave a nod. "What is it you believe we must do?"
"Rook's Nest. Our sister will not be allowed to turn her cheek away when Cole and Uncle's army descends upon it, and neither will Aegon. He desires to prove himself, you've seen it. He'll try to in battle... and when he does, he must.. fall to injury. Vhagar knows the taste of war, and with you as her rider, Cole will have no choice but to ignore whatever it is you do. The Council will favor me over Mother as regent whilst Aegon recovers."
"And what will you do once you are named Prince Regent?" 
(Y/N)'s lips curled upward and he bent down, both hands cupping Aemond's face to press their lips together. The action caught him by surprise, but the twinge of longing for a loving hand shot through his veins. The teachings from the septas and maesters told him it was wrong, but Targaryens were no ordinary men; the blood of the dragon coursed through them. Aemond pushed into him, rising from his chair to encircle his arms around (Y/N)'s waist. (Y/N)'s grip tightened and he forced Aemond to lean back.
"You... will be named Hand." (Y/N) told him, and Aemond's shoulders straightened, his single violet eye gleaming. He'd always be meant for such a position, and as much as Cole had been a father to him, he was still the mere son of a steward; someone hardly meant for the position of Hand.
(Y/N)'s grip loosened into a gentle touch, coaxing Aemond to lean into it once more. "I will not risk the fall of this family, Aemond, not like this. Enough of our sacred blood has been spilled. I will do what our mother and brother and grandsire failed to do. If Rhaenyra has withheld as much as she has in search of peace, I will test how desperate she is to obtain it."
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2n1ghts · 5 months
Text
❝let me take care of you, baby.❞ ❥︎ collegebf!eren x reader
・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・
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synopsis: it was nearing finals, and you avoided your boyfriend— eren—like the plague. and boy, was he was worried for you. your normally cheerful demeanor dwindled to something snarky, something avoidant. all you did nowadays was study till your brain rotted, and it made you a bitter person. he was waiting for the day you'd collapse, and the moment you did, it was worse than he expected. good thing he was there to take care of you. to pamper you because you were his baby.
*contains suggestive content!! advise against reading if you're under 17. minors will be blocked, so please dni if you're one!
key: e/c -> eye color
・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・
hey y'all!! 💌
again, not sure how the whole tumblr thing works. i'm experimenting and trying out writing for fun, so please be kind. i was pretty out of it when i wrote this, so ignore any typos or inconsistencies. also, bear with our y/n. she's crafted this way for a reason.
it's my first time writing a short fic/drabble, and i did this as more of an experiment. i welcome feedback but please be kind with your words. i am just learning and finding out what works for me.
anyways, hope you enjoy lovelies!
best,
~ nene
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The past few weeks had been a living hell.
Not because of the finals nearing round the corner, or because of the two hours of sleep you were getting per night; not because of the crude professors who made it their life mission to assign a million projects when the quarter was about to end; not because of your parents who did not give two shits about your mental health.
It was the distance you were maintaining with Eren that made it the hardest.
He was worried for you. You could tell by the way his eyebrows would furrow when you would decline yet another plea to relax, or the way his eyes conceringly flitted to your scrunched posture whenever you'd cuss at yourself, or the way he would gently, tenderly... remove your hands that tended to roughly rake through your hair when anxious.
Your breaking point was nearing, and he was holding himself back from embracing you right then and there. He was not one to interfere, but he wanted to take care of you, to ease the burden off your shoulders and reassure you that your studying would amount to great achievements. But he didn't know how to reach you. You were so caught up in your bubble of self-sabotage and pressure that you shut the rest of the world out, including him.
But he didn't want to be "the rest of the world." He would wallow in your bubble too, only if you'd let him in.
"Fucking deratives will be the end of me," he heard you seethe from your position on his gaming chair. The both of you were currently cooped up in his room, with him scrolling through TikTok and occasionally glancing at you while you revised and revised till your eyes were sore.
Eren's roommate flew out, which left the place to himself. He lured you here stating it would be better to study at his place with "no distractions" compared to your apartment with Hitch, who was quite the gossip and hinderance.
As you highlighted yet another section, you felt his eyes raking down your figure.
You were engulfed in his oversized grey hoodie, wearing nothing but a flimsy cotton bra and matching underwear underneath. Your hair was messily thrown up in a bun, a few strands tickling your forehead here and there, to which you frustratedly blew from your periphery. Lilac crescents embedded themselves into your under-eyes, followed with bags entailing sleep deprivation. One bare leg was propped up as you rested your chin on your knee and swung the other absentmindedly.
If you didn't stop studying now, you'd collapse from exhaustion. Three hours had passed by nonstop. You hadn't even drank water.
"Y/n," he called out gently.
You ignored him, but he knew you heard him because of that cute forehead scrunch you just did.
"Y/n," he called, this time a bit louder. Once again, that damn scrunch, but no verbal acknowledgement.
"Y/n!" he tried for the third time. You furrowed your eyebrows, scowling. Your slender finger pressed into your plump lips, a gesture made to silence him.
Leaving his position on the bed, he strided over to you. He got onto his knees and gently took ahold of your meandering hands. The callus of his fingers felt textured against your knuckles.
"Why are you ignoring me, babe?"
"I'm not ignoring you," you replied, trying to refocus your attention on your migraine-inducing Calculus textbook. He tried not to flinch at you shutting him out for the nth time this week.
It hurt him whenever you tried drowning him out like he was a petty distraction.
Because he wasn't to be discarded. He was your boyfriend, and he promised to always be there for you, so why wouldn't you just confide in him?
"I called for you three times, Y/n," he stated calmly. Letting go of one of your hands, he gently drew circles on your knee with the pad of his thumb, hoping it'd soothe your nerves. Goosebumps littered your skin at the gesture.
"Can't you see I'm studying, Ren? I can't talk right now." Overstimulated and tired, you weren't in the mood to converse. In fact, you weren't in the mood to do anything. All you wanted to do was collapse onto your sheets and fall into a hundred-year slumber, but unfortunately, finals exist to give you enough of a reality check.
"You are working so hard, so take a break, please," he pleaded yet again.
He'd beg if it meant you'd prioritize your health. He cared more about you than his ego. That's why he always rebounded with a gentle demeanor, even if you were rude and snarky. He knew your brash attitude wasn't your fault. You just didn't function well under stress.
The unfiltered truth was, you weren't used to the princess treatment Eren offered. As a child, you had gotten used to your parents' nagging. Sleepless nights became routine if it meant you'd score straight A's. It had been like this all throughout high school.
Until you met Eren.
He prioritized you first, always, and taught you to do the same. It was sort of... a culture shock to you, a difficult adjustment. You needed time getting accustomed to this novel way of thinking, and luckily Eren was understanding.
Couldn't say your self-sabotage wasn't eating away at him, though.
"And you need to take a break from badgering me. I'm perfectly fine," you snarked. Your eyes broke contact with his, gaze landing once again on the textbook to your left.
Angling your chair, you turned your body away from him, trying to focus on the task at hand. You couldn't bear to look at him because you knew he was right. If you gave in, you would stop studying. If you stopped studying, you'd catastrophically fail, which could not happen.
With a frustrated sigh, Eren swiftly snagged your textbook and threw it behind him. It collided with the mattress with a large 'thud.' You gasped as he grabbed the edge of your chair, turning it towards him.
"You're not getting that textbook until you eat and drink something," he asserted, a layer of seriousness washing over his green eyes.
"What the hell, Eren? Give it back!" You shrieked.
"You heard the conditions."
"Eren, this is serious. I don't have time to play games right now. Please... give it back."
"Who said I'm playing games, Y/n? The only reason I'm doing this is because you're being negligent towards yourself."
"Okay, well that's my problem. Who are you to interfere?" You countered.
"Hey, I'm not trying to be your mom or anything. As your boyfriend, I care about you. It's just a glass of water and a snack, Y/n. Do it for yourself. You deserve a break."
You started panicking. An uneasy feeling sprawled up your stomach as your hands got clammy. "No! You don't understand."
"Then enlighten me, babe. I'm right here."
Rolling your eyes, you stood up from the chair, trying not to cringe at the weird noise emitted from the leather upon loss of contact with your skin. You reached forward to grab your textbook off the mattress, but Eren was faster. He took ahold of your wrist and lowered it.
You grunted in frustration. "I—I need to study, Ren. Badly. My career and future depend on it. These are hard subjects. I need hours and hours of studying to ace these exams. You don't get it."
He doesn't reply, continuing to look at you sternly and not budging. Your nerves were skyrocketing. What was his deal? This wasn't the time to be testing your patience. Plus, if he really cared, he'd understand your desperation.
"Okay, whatever sick fun you're trying to derive out of this isn't cool," you deadpanned.
You tried pulling your wrist out of his grip, but he required little to no effort to keep you at bay, simply planting his feet further into the ground when you tried shoving him. Your e/c-eyed stare pierced him like daggers, but his resolve was impenetrable.
God, what a stubborn fuck.
You continued wriggling and squirming to no avail. Your bottom lip began trembling. Liquid pooled at your lashline, threatening to moisten your cheeks with its salty trail.
You broke.
Sniffling, you shoved him repeatedly in the chest. "I hate you. I hate this. I fucking hate college and hate my parents and hate finals and hate this fucked up system that does nothing but capitalize on our stress and hate motherfucking Calculus and professor Ackerman and—"
Moist lips enclosed your own, trapping them tantalizingly. The kiss was brief and sweet. He used it as a way to tranquilize you, gently trapping both of your wrists with his one hand.
"Shh, just let me take care of you, baby," he rasped as he tenderly interlocked his arms under your legs, lifting and placing you on the bed. The mattress felt soft against your spine.
If pamper had a textbook definition, Eren's face would definitely appear in the margin.
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as-is-above-so-below · 8 months
Text
Cardigan - John Price x F!Teacher!Reader
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Part 2: Midnight Rain
summary: you get yourself in a pickle a/n: hi! I return again! I'm sorry it's short, but I'm trying a new method of posting. Instead of aiming for a specific word count (which leads to me getting writer's block and not posting ANYTHING), I write until I'm satisfied with what I'm trying to achieve. Hopefully, I've achieved that goal, and y'all like it :) Blessed be! << Previous | Next >>
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You drummed your fingers against the notebook in your lap and gnawed on the top of your pen. It was late, even by your standards; the sun had long since set, and dinner eaten hours ago. But you were up, sitting in the dark in your living room, heavy rain pelting your old windows. You were trying to pull together a new lesson plan for the following day. A few curious students had started asking questions about the modern military. Like, key differences between military strategies used in the time they were studying and today. And, of course, yet again, you made promises that you were struggling to keep. And you always keep your promises to your students.
Fuck.
The internet wasn’t helping at all. You didn’t study military strategy in any of your courses. Was that even a thing?
The last thing you wanted to do was call him. You were so confident that you could solve your problem yourself, at nine o’clock. Now, it was past midnight, and you were absolutely desperate.
Fuck.
Before your tired brain can flood with guilt and change its mind, you grab your phone from your nightstand and tap into your recent calls log. Your stomach churned, anxiety bubbling up with every trill. God, it’s so fucking late to be calling. It felt like you were split in two. One half of you was praying that his phone was on silent (you know it’s not) or he’ll sleep through the ringing (he won’t), while the other–the miserable, exhausted half–needed him to pick up.
The latter won out.
“Y/N? Are you alright?”
John’s deep, sleepy voice made you feel guilty and incredibly happy that you’d woken him up. Soft and grumbly, rolling in his chest; it made you feel soft and warm inside…
Not the point of the call.
“Hi, John. I’m completely fine, I just…” You took a deep breath, the heel of your free hand pressed into one of your dry, worn-out eyes. “I know you’re this big important captain, and you have work in the morning, but I’m in a bit of a pickle and need a massive favor.”
There was a slight rustling on the other end like he had turned slightly to check the nearby time. “It’s one o’clock in the morning, love,” he mumbled.
You felt even worse. “I know, I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me,” you begged, running a hand over the top of your head. “One of my kids asked about the military. It sparked a whole discussion in class, and I may have overstated my knowledge. I barely know anything about it, and my brain is turning to mush. I’m so tired I wanna cry, and-”
He quickly cut off your rambling. “Woah, hey. Slow down there. What’s going on?” he asked, suddenly sounding much more awake. 
That brought you pause. You honestly hadn’t thought what you would ask if John actually answered the phone through. It was one o’clock in the morning, which John had correctly pointed out, and your brain wasn’t operating at full capacity. 
“I was…wondering if you could give me a lesson. Because I’m super tired, and I like to hear you talk.”
“…You do?”
“Yeah. I’ve learned a lot from you just…talking to me? But I’m a history teacher. I’m an expert on wars, not war.”
There was some shuffling on the phone. On the other line, John was leaning over the edge of his bed, searching blindly for his little pocket planner in the pile of clothes on the floor. The rustling stopped when he placed the device on his pillow, rifling through the calendar. He sniffed and was quiet for a moment, while you nibbled anxiously at your pen. Again.
The silence finally broke with a tired sniffle from John. “I can do you better. Why don’t I come to your classes tomorrow?” he asked.
You froze, pen still between your teeth. John? Coming to your school? Spending the day with your students? That would be the equivalent of introducing your boyfriend to your children. 
“…Really?”
“Sure.”
Could you even call him your boyfriend? You’d been on a few dates, sure, over the last…two months? No, it was closer to three. Had it been that long already? You did some quick math in your head. You’d gone on about one date a week, with a few canceled due to last-minute commitments. Still, about one date a week, over three months…
Holy shit.
“John, I’m sure you’re busy. I couldn’t-”
“Not at all,” he hummed, cutting you off. “Besides, it would take me ‘til class tomorrow to give you a good enough rundown, and the boss loves shite like this.”
“I thought you were the boss?”
You could practically hear a small smile tugging at John’s lips. The expression was a familiar one. The corner of his mouth quirked up, shifting his beard and creating happy wrinkles near his eyes. His nose would scrunch up a bit, too, especially if you were out in cold weather. 
“Everybody has a boss, sweetness. Myself included.”
Christ. Not the pet names. And especially not in the tired, gravelly tone his voice was currently in. John Price was going to be the death of you, even in his unfocused state.
You unfolded your legs from underneath you and moved your notebook onto the coffee table. Your resolve was fading, and you couldn’t be bothered to argue. While you did feel bad about dragging John to your school to fix the problem you created, you weren’t sure you had any other option. Accept defeat? To a group of teenagers? Absolutely not. You’d never live it down. You sighed, rubbing tiredly at your eyes. “If you’re sure…”
“I am.”
A soft smile crossed your face. “Is this just a ploy to meet my kids?”
“Maybe.”
Your sleepy giggles were like music to John’s ears. The sound alone was worth the favor. As if he wouldn’t have done it anyway, just to ease your stress. He would take any and every opportunity to make your day easier or make you happy. What he wouldn’t give to hear that laugh in person, laying beside you in your bed–
No. John’s a good man. A gentleman, he would say. A man who was perfectly capable of not acting on his urges and thoughts. At least, not in person. However, in the privacy of his own home? That was a different story.
“Thank you so much, John.”
Right. You’re still on the phone. He heard a soft click on your end of the call.
“That’d better be you closing your laptop, I’m hearing.”
“It is.”
“Good girl.” You blushed furiously. Fuck. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight.”
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drakulana · 7 months
Text
a little piece of heaven // trafalgar law x fem!reader
it's finally here! part 3 to the first spark series! i know its been a long time coming. be sure to read the first two parts first! i hope y'all enjoy!!! i've had lots of fun writing this!!
⟡ part 1, part 2 ⟡ content: mutual pining, slooooooow burn up until the end, fluff, suggestive ending ;) but nothing nsfw ⟡ wc: 8.5k
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She awoke with a warm feeling all around her. She hadn’t remembered laying down in bed. She was surrounded by a familiar scent. Pine, hints of amber, undernotes of antiseptic. A scent she had come to know as her captain’s. A scent she had only been this close to in her head. It was comforting, warm. The bed was bigger, and the blankets were heavier than her own. Wait, why am I in his bed? She reflected on the night before. She was so tired, running off of maybe a few minutes of sleep and caffeine. She had worked herself too hard, pushed herself a little further than her body liked. Law’s words from last night echoed back to her, reminding her of what had happened. “Y/n, you can go to bed, it’s almost 3:30.” He had told her with a sincere tone. She shook her head at him, “No, it’s okay, I can keep working,” she assured him before looking back down at her page. 
She must’ve fallen asleep after the short interaction between them. She cringed internally from embarrassment. Falling asleep in the captain’s office while doing work, how could she let herself go so unchecked? She finally let herself take in the scene of the morning. The clock read 6:42am. She didn’t sleep for long, exhaustion still heavy in her limbs. She looked around the room, letting her eyes adjust to the light. Law’s bed was in the corner of the office, his desk opposite to it on the other side of the room. There were two book cases. One by his bed, the other by his desk. Both were organized, but the one next to the bed had comic books, and sci-fi novels. Something she didn’t think her captain would read, but she found it endearing to know that the cool and collected man had a nerdier side to him. 
“You’re awake,” Law voiced without looking up from his book. “Sleep well?” He glanced up at her, scanning over her. She took in his appearance, he had dark bags under his eyes, the shadow of the brim of his hat casting down on them giving them a darker look. He was still in the same clothes from the night before, she doubted he had hardly moved from that spot at his desk. His golden eyes glinted with something she couldn’t quite make out. She tore her gaze away, fearing she had stared too long. “It was okay,” She answered him, getting up from her place on his bed. The atmosphere of the office was thick. There was an undeniable tension that floated around the two, coating the walls and everything around them in unspoken words. She made her way towards him, “I’m sorry I took your bed last night, that wasn’t my intention.” He let his gaze wander as she spoke. “I don’t mind it,” He assured her with his usually composed tone. He watched her smooth her hands down her rumpled up clothes, and run her fingers through her messy hair. Law felt a slight disappointment set in as she started to gather her things, but he never let his demeanor falter. She took one last look at Law with a tired sigh. “Thank you for letting me sleep here, but you look like you could use some sleep yourself, Captain. I’ll go so you can get at least a few hours.” With one last look, she exited his quarters and made her way towards her bunk. With her heart racing, she made her way down the seemingly never ending corridors of the Polar Tang. She longed to get into her own bed, under the comfort of her own blankets. She wanted to mull over her thoughts. Turning the corner, she finally saw the door to her bunk. Relief rushed through her, visibly relaxing her. That was until she heard her name being called from the other side of the corridor. She inwardly cursed before turning to meet her crewmate. It was Shachi. He looked panicked. Any ounce of resentment melted away from her as worry filled her. “What is it, Shachi?” She asked him, worry lacing her voice. His cheeks were flushed red like he had been running all over the ship. “Did you by chance load the fuel in the ship?” He asked her. She paled. “No, I thought Penguin did that.” She and Shachi shared an equally fretful look.
“Penguin thought you had done it,” Shachi’s voice shook with anxiety before Penguin ran down the hall. “Did you not get the fuel for the ship?” He asked her, almost trembling. She shook her head at him, sharing his anxious gaze. She sighed, “Was there none in backup?” 
“Only enough to get us to the next port.”
“Shit.” She ran a hand through her hair, “Well somebody is going to have to tell the Captain.” She looked at her crewmates, neither of them moving from their spots. They looked at her, almost expectantly. She caught on. “No, absolutely not. I am not telling the Captain that we forgot the fuel.” Law was a meticulous man. He was precise, detailed. He left no room for trivial errors such as one of his crew members forgetting the fuel. Something like that was a given in his eyes. She was not going to face the wrath of her sleep deprived captain, especially when said captain gave her warm fuzzy feelings that she tried to ignore. Sure, he may have let her sleep in his bed, but that did not mean he would let her off easy for forgetting something as crucial as fuel. Shachi and Penguin kept looking at her, before one of them spoke up, “Please tell him for us, he likes you! He won't yell at you the way he will at us.” They pleaded.
“Like hell he won’t!” She refuted, “He doesn’t like me any more than he likes you guys. Please don’t make me tell him.” Still, neither of them gave into defeat. They stood there at a stand-off between the three. Apprehension hung in the air. Penguin finally spoke up, “Please, last time I told him we forgot something he put me on waste disposal duty for a month,” He shared a serious look with her. “I can’t go through that again. It was traumatizing.” He put his hand over his face, dramatically. She looked at the pair, incredulously before giving in. “Fine, but you owe me. Big time. The both of you.” She pointed her finger at both of them.
“Thank you! Thank you s-”
“Oh, save it,” she cut them off. She was far too tired to deal with her crewmates. Although she couldn’t blame them, it was an honest mistake on all of their parts. They had spent their whole last day on the previous island running grueling tests and checks on everything in the submarine. She could understand how they all let the shortage of fuel fall under their noses without notice. The question was, was her captain likely to take an understanding approach to the situation? She wasn’t too sure. 
She put her things up in her bunk before making her way back to her captain’s quarters. She hoped that he hadn’t gone to sleep, she hated the idea of disturbing the rest that he needed. Begrudgingly, she knocked on the door. Not too long after, a ‘come in,’ was sounded from the other side. She turned the door knob and opened it to meet her captain’s eyes. “(Y/n), back already?” He asked her as she stepped into his office. Law was still sitting in the same spot as his desk as he was whenever she had left. She gave him a look, one that was laced with slight distress. “What is it?” He asked her, wondering what could’ve possibly happened in the short amount of time that she was away.
“Captain, promise you won’t get mad?” She asked him. He raised an eyebrow at her, staying silent as a cue for her to continue. “The fuel for the ship wasn’t stocked before we left the last port,” She admitted to him, looking away from his steel gaze. It was silent in the room. The loud kind of silence. The kind that rings in your ears uncomfortably. She could feel the irritation start to build within the room before a sigh escaped Law’s lips, “Who was in charge of the fuel?” another silence fell over them as she mulled over her next words. She could say that they didn’t exactly assign someone the job, and risk all three of them getting punished, or she could take the blame. Penguin’s dramatic words echoed through her head, ‘Last time I told him we forgot something, I was put on waste disposal duty for a month… It was traumatizing.’ She took a breath before bringing her eyes back up to Law’s expectant gaze. “It was me. I forgot to restock the fuel.” The look Law gave her was far from one of approval. It was disappointment. The look hurt, coming from her captain. “Before you yell-” 
“You’re on waste disposal duty for a week.” He cut her off calmly. There was no yelling. Law was far too tired to raise his voice, and for a reason unbeknownst to him, he couldn’t quite bring himself to raise his voice at the woman in front of him. It was clearly a mistake, however Law detested mistakes. There was protocol, and they were required to follow it to prevent such thoughtless mistakes. 
“Capta-” She was about to protest, but all her captain did was cut her off once more, “That is an order. Would you like to make it two?” She shut her mouth, not wanting to make the punishment any worse for herself. She hung her head, feeling like a child being berated. She would’ve much rather him yelled at her, “Yes sir,” she replied defeatedly.  
Law’s jaw ticked at her words, something unreadable flashing in his eyes, “We’ll stop at the next port, and you will be responsible for gathering the fuel,” he ordered her. “I’ll tell Bepo to make a stop for the next port,” He stood up from his desk and for a second, she thought she’d get out of there without a lecture from her captain. She made her way to the door, Law trailing behind her. He stopped her, leaning closer to her. “Next time, be sure to double check everything before you clear the ship to leave the port. We don’t have time to forget things. We don’t have time to change our plans. You’re lucky we’re close enough to the nearest port to be able to refuel. Take this as your only warning,” He spoke low, his breath fanning against her ear. His voice held such authority. It was a reminder that he was in charge. Their eyes locked, and suddenly it was evident how close his face was to hers. Her heart skipped a beat, “Yes, Captain.” It came out almost in a whisper. She kicked herself for sounding so pathetic. Law didn’t move away at first, letting himself study her features. For a second, she could’ve sworn that he was looking at her lips, but he pulled away before she could question her thought any further. The butterflies that had been living in her gut fluttered around causing her blood to rush to her face, and warmth to gather in her limbs. Wordlessly, he turned away from her, both of them leaving the office. Her face was flushed, and all she could think about was taking a nice long nap until they reached the next port. She’d need the energy if she was going to restock the ship’s fuel all by herself. She sighed to herself before making eye contact with Shachi and Penguin. “You two, you owe me. Wake me up when we get to the next port.” She walked past them and into her bunk, finally ready to get some rest.
⋆⭒˚.⋆
She awoke a few hours later as the ship was ascending to the surface. She gave herself a few minutes before getting up, letting her mind wander. She thought about her captain. He was so enigmatic, carrying himself with such conviction with little explanation. Even before she joined the crew, he had peaked her interest. A pirate, from the worst generation, taking a hundred pirate hearts to the Marines, and becoming the youngest warlord. He was feared, for both his intelligence and his power. Trafalgar Law had been on her radar for quite some time, but being the elusive surgeon he was, she could only ever get scraps of information. Most tucked tail and ran when he was brought up in trades of intel. He was dangerous, and everyone knew it, but he was vital to her work. She was a journalist after all, she wanted to study him, learn everything about him and write it down. However, now it was more personal than she had ever imagined it would be. 
It was no secret Law was an attractive man. He carried himself with confident assurance, hardly ever faltering in the face of conflict. He was tactical, calculated. He planned for everything, and accounted for any mishap that could happen along the way. Those golden eyes of his were ones of a hawk. He never missed anything, nothing went under his nose without him knowing. Being involved with the man was enthralling.  From the electric touches, the heavy wordless gazes, the comfortable silences, it made her crave more. She wanted to know him, personally. To know what went on behind his eyes would be a privilege. 
She was ripped out of her reverie by a knock at her door. She sat up, voicing a come in. Shachi opened the door, “We’re here at the port,” He informed her, sticking his head through the opening in the door. She glanced at the clock, 4 p.m. The next port was on a summer island, She had a few hours of daylight left to gather the fuel, and hopefully make it back to the ship to pick up her work where she left off. She stripped out of her clothes, the same ones that she had slept in. They still smelled of pine and amber. She changed into a tank top and some shorts, then slipped her boiler suit over her clothes, tying the top half around her waist. She made her way out onto the top deck where everyone had gathered as they docked at the small island. It was a village island that mostly made its profit through workshops that produced clothes. It wasn’t a very big, or significant island. (Y/n) hoped that she could get all of the fuel before all the locals turned in for the day, hoping she could get some information about this island. She didn’t know much about it, other than with who and what they traded. 
She found her colleagues conversating amongst each other as she approached. “Where’s the captain?” She asked Bepo. The polar bear turned towards her, “He said he’s staying behind to finish work,” he answered her. Typical Law. She only hoped that he would get enough rest, and by the looks of worried annoyance on Bepo’s face, she could tell he was worried about that as well. It was no secret that their captain hadn’t gotten much sleep lately. He worked day and night, without yielding. He never took time for his well being, and was a hypocrite amongst his crew, as he always held everyone’s health to the highest standard, except for his own. Right now he was working on researching the sickness from the island they had just left. His work was unyielding, and he wouldn’t let himself rest until he was done.
The crew docked, and (Y/n) made her way off of the ship, finding the nearest fuel station with as many berries as she was provided to get the fuel. The town was quiet, and didn’t seem to care too much about the pirates that were occupying their port. Either unbothered, or laying low, the woman couldn’t complain. Shops, and stands lined the roads, some turning down into small neighborhoods. The fuel station sat at the end of the row of shops. She couldn’t help but to note that it was quite inconvenient for the station to be so far from the port. 
The bells jingled as she walked into the fuel station. It was a small shop. The walls were tiles with white and yellow tiles. Drink coolers lined the back walls, and there were four aisles of various things, from chips to toiletries. “Welcome!” a voice had called to her. The voice was very familiar. Her eyes met with a tall man with shaggy black hair that fell over his eyes just slightly. A light shadow dusted his jawline. It took a minute for her to recognize the man standing behind the counter, before it hit her. He was an old classmate from her home island. How he got halfway across the world, she had no idea. She approached the counter with a surprised smile, “Yori?” The man’s eyes snapped up at hers, really looking at her for the first time since she had entered the station. “(Y/n)? What are you doing here?” He looked her up and down, taking in her appearance. 
“I’m here to get fuel,” she smiled up at him, “It’s been a while, what have you been up to? I wasn’t aware that you had left the island,” she decided to make a little small talk. It wasn't everyday that she saw a familiar face. 
“I work here at this station, I moved here about a few months ago. My grandmother lives here, I came to take care of her,” He told her, “What are you up to? I thought you were a journalist. I didn’t know you became a pirate,” A small humorless laugh left her mouth, the sudden question almost feeling like an intrusion, “Wow word moves fast here, huh?” she broke his gaze, briefly loo “I’m still a journalist.” She left it at that, not letting him into any close details. It was better if he didn’t know anything.  
“Yeah, I noticed the ship at the dock. How long are you going to be here?” He asked her, “Maybe we can get a drink, catch up. It’s not everyday that I see someone from back home.”
“I think it's just for the night. I have to get this fuel for the ship before I can do anything else. I did want to know more about this place, maybe if I get done in time enough we can?” She smiled up at Yori. He nodded before asking how much she needed. She told him, and paid. It took quite some time to fill all of the fuel canisters, but once they were done all she had to do was trek back to the ship. “Would you like some help?” Yori asked her. 
“That would be nice, if you don’t mind,” She told him. With the two of them, the trips could be cut in half, only needing three trips to get all the fuel back to the ship. Those three trips were not fun ones. It was hot, and the walk felt longer each time they made it. The fuel was heavy, weighing her down each step she took. She was sure to be sore tomorrow. The feeling of sweet relief set in as they set the last of the fuel canisters on the dock. “Thank you for helping me, Yori,” she smiled at him. Just as she was about to bring up the drink when she heard footsteps on the deck of the Polar Tang. She looked up to meet the eyes of her captain looking down on her and a man that he had never seen before. “Oh, hi Captain,” she looked up at her captain, “I thought you were working.” Law seemed irritated. His gaze followed over her, and then over to the man standing next her. “I was,” he replied, tension entwining his words. “Who’s this?” he asked her, the irritation seeping into his tone. It was evident that he still had not gotten any sleep. Dark bags hung under his eyes and his face was void of any color. Any longer without sleep and he would start to look sickly. She could feel his eyes scanning over her. His gaze was almost disapproving, and it made her shift on her feet. “This is Yori, he’s from my home island,” she informed her captain, “He was helping me with the fuel.” The man standing next to her that Law had just come to know as ‘Yori’ gave a half smile at her captain  and a slight wave towards him. (Y/n) looked over at Yori, “I think I got it from here, thanks for helping me,” she smiled at him. Yori shared the smile, “Anything for an old friend,” He looked her up and down, although that didn’t quite catch her eye. It caught Law’s, though. Yori stepped a little closer to her, “If you decide that you wanted to catch up, come find me. I’ll tell you more about the island too. I know you like to write stuff like that down,” a small graced her lips as she nodded. Yori turned and walked away, leaving just the woman and her captain. 
Law had already made up his mind that he didn’t like this Yori guy. He didn’t like how he had looked at (Y/n), akin to a dog looking at dinner. He didn’t like how close he had stood to her, like he had an obligation to be in her space. A feeling set into Law, one that knotted up his insides and made his head grow hot. He looked down at the woman on the dock below him gathering up fuel canisters to bring up to the deck. To him she looked stunning with her hair pulled back, a few flyaway strands framing her face. Her skin glistened under the unforgiving sun. She was wearing a white tank top with the boiler suit tied around her waist. The suit was tied in a way where you could clearly see the jolly rodger of the suit visible. She wore it with confidence, and with pride. It warmed Law to see her wearing the jolly roger with so much dignity. Eventually Law stopped staring and made his way down to the dock to help her with the fuel. “If you needed help carrying the fuel to the ship, you could’ve ask me,” Law said to her as he grabbed two of the canisters. 
“I didn’t want to bother you, captain. I was hoping you were getting the rest that you needed,” She had noticed the dark bags as soon as he had walked onto the deck. She was worried about him, to say the least. She knew he was a busy man, but how he could work efficiently while so exhausted remained a mystery to her. 
“I’ll rest when my work is finished,” Law shot back at her. The tone came out ruder than Law had intended, but from the looks of it, it didn’t even phase her. A small hum came as a reply to him, “At that rate, you may never sleep again,” She was only half joking, and it came out in a snarky way. Law always had some kind of work to do. At some point he would have to find a stopping place, but he never found one. Once he finished one thing, another arose. It didn’t help that someone kept creeping their way into his mind, nesting their way into his frontal cortex, refusing to leave. He decided not to reply to her comment, concerned he might say something he didn’t mean. They worked in the silence for the rest of their time together, neither one striking up a conversation. After almost an hour, all the fuel was moved from the dock, to the deck, and then down to the boiler room. The moving of the fuel was grueling, and she was surprised Law had decided to help her, considering he was so exhausted she didn’t understand how he still had the stamina for physical labor. She was also sure he was still upset about her forgetting the fuel with how he was acting. He truly was resilient in everything he did, no matter the conditions he was put under. She couldn’t deny, whether it be of biased intention or not, her captain was a remarkable man. 
They were done now, and the sun hadn’t even begun to set. The rest of the crew was out on the island still, and (Y/n) still had time to meet up with Yori to get some details about this island that she only knew the basics about. Sure, he wasn’t a local, however his grandmother was. Surely he knew some things about this tiny island. Something worth writing about. Everywhere had potential, you just had to look in all the right places. She stood in her bunk, changing into some casual clothes. She had finished all her duties, so there was no reason to wear her uniform. She no longer sported the jolly roger, but instead settled into a pair of jean shorts and a brown tank top. She styled her hair up, leaving a few strands to fall down and frame her face. She wore a few pieces of jewelry to tie the outfit together. Two necklaces hung around her neck, stacked. A gold chain, with a simple gold heart locket, paired with a golden choker that had pearls dispersed every couple inches from each other. She layered some gold bracelets, with some rings. It was nothing over the top, but something to make her look nice. It wasn’t everyday she had gotten to see an old friend whom she had grown up with. She grabbed a crossbody bag, placing her notebook and some pens inside before slinging it over her shoulder. As she walked through the corridors of the ship, she passed her captain’s quarters, deciding to check in with him before she left the ship. She knocked on the door, three times like always. A ‘come in’ was voiced from the other side. 
She opened the door to his office, the yellow light from his desk lamp spilling into the blue-lit hallways. She stepped in, closing the door behind her. Law looked up at her, taking in her appearance. For a split second, he was left speechless, only able to to breathe out the air that was left in his lungs. He rarely got to see her in casual clothes, and to him, it was a privilege he had even got to see her like this. She cleared her throat before speaking, breaking him out of his observation. “I’m about to go meet up with Yori, is there anything you would like me to do before I leave?” She asked him, standing in front of his desk. A bad taste in his mouth formed whenever the stranger's name rolled off her tongue. Yori. Law didn’t forget the way he had looked at (Y/n) like she was a piece of meat earlier when they were on the dock. He wouldn’t understand how special he was to have her dress up for him. He wouldn’t appreciate the way (Y/n) dressed into clothes she normally didn’t wear for him, or how she took extra time to look nice for him. How she had adorned her neck and her hands with gold, for him. Law couldn’t lie, he was just a bit jealous.He tore his admiring gaze away from her, pushing down an envy he hadn’t felt in a long time. She looked expectantly at her captain, waiting for an order, or for clearance to leave the ship but Law couldn’t seem to get the words out of his mouth. His mouth ran dry, and his breath caught. It was strange for the woman to have this effect on him. Words lodged in his throat trying to crawl up his windpipes, only to rest at the tip of his tongue unable to escape his mouth. After what felt like hours, he was finally able to push out a simple, “No.” 
Law’s staring didn’t go unnoticed by her, for a second she worried to herself. Did she look okay? She turned to leave the office, but stopped at the door. “Captain, can I ask you something?” She looked back at the man who was looking at her with something that she couldn’t quite decipher in his eyes. Law nodded at her, cuing her to continue. “Do I… look okay?” She cringed at her own words, immediately wanting to take them and to stuff them back into her mouth. The question sounded insecure, something she never wanted to be seen as in front of her captain. She wasn’t one who seeked reassurance, especially on things as trivial as appearance. Law took in her appearance one more time, wondering how she could possibly be asking that. He cleared his throat before mustering up the strength to push out the words that were held in his throat, “You look beautiful.” Carmine red rose into her cheeks. A soft ‘thank you,’ left her lips, leaving them decorated with a gentle smile. “I’ll see you later,” She beamed once more before turning and leaving through his office door. 
She left Law with only himself and his tired thoughts. His thoughts were consumed by the woman. In the past few days, his remedy for distraction had been piling up the work so high that he didn't have time to think about his crewmember. That remedy only lasted for so long before she wormed her way back into his head. Law was exhausted, yet he couldn’t find the urge to lay down in his bed. He shuffled around some papers on his desk, taking note of every paper that had that pretty cursive handwriting that he had grown to favor instead of his own. Law knew it was inappropriate to feel this way about an insubordinate. It was wrong. There was a power imbalance. Law always considered himself a morally correct man, but in this moment, he questioned every moral about professionalism he had. Breaking one rule wouldn’t be so bad, would it?
⋆⭒˚.⋆
As (Y/n) made it back into town, the sun had started to set along the horizon. Pink, red, and orange, danced in the sky amongst the clouds. There was denying the beauty of the scene. You couldn’t see another island for miles, just one small piece of land in solidarity. It was just the coast and the ocean. The sky, and its clouds. It was a peaceful island, most of its locals being middle-aged to older people. By the time the sun had started to set, all the stands and shops started to close down for the day. She took note of how some of the vendors would leave some of their belongings in their stands. Crime must have not happened often around here. It was uncommon in this day and age to be so trusting.
She made her way to the fuel station at the end of the road. Every step she took, she grew more uneasy. She pushed off her sudden apprehension, forcing a step forward toward the station. She stepped into the fuel station, the bells on the doorway jingling as she entered, a reflexive greeting coming along with the door. Without the sun shining into the station, the building took on a whole new atmosphere. Yellow lights hung from the ceiling, filling the station with a low buzz. She wrapped her arms around her to ease the unsteady feeling that was sinking into her gut. She approached the counter where Yori stood. For the first time since she had walked into the station, Yori had looked up from whatever was occupying him. A smile grew onto his face, his gaze setting onto the woman in front of him. Under the harsh lighting, Yori looked older. He no longer looked like the boy she knew from back home. His face had filled out, and smile lines had just started to form on his forehead and under his eyes. It was a reminder that time had gone by. They were no longer the kids that they once knew each other as. The incessant buzzing of the fluorescent lights was cut through by Yori, “Are you ready to go?” She nodded at him. He walked around the counter, and led her out of the building, locking the door behind him. 
The sky had now morphed into a scarlet red, fading into dark oranges. The sky reflected off of the water, making it seem bigger than it was. A cool breeze blew through the emptying streets making goosebumps rise to the surface of her skin. They walked for a few minutes, useless small talk between the two, before arriving at a small bar at the very end of the aisle of shops and stands. It was dimly lit, and small. The walls and the floor were wood, alcohol brand sign posters hung up around them. The occasional WANTED poster was posted amongst them. There weren’t any that she hadn’t seen before. Most of them were the new generation pirates, others old and worn from being on the wall for years. Yori led her to a booth on the back wall. Coincidentally, her captain’s poster hung right above the table. He smirked down at them, sword on his shoulder, that infamous hat handing over his eyes. 
WANTED
DEAD OR ALIVE
TRAFALGAR LAW
500,000,000
She couldn’t lie, it crossed her mind to take the poster off the wall, just so she could have it for herselfl. She shook off the thought. It was inappropriate to think of her captain that way. Even if he looked good in that particular photo of him. She turned her attention back to the man in front of her, who she had just realized had been talking the entire time she was daydreaming about her captain’s wanted poster. She hoped Yori hadn’t noticed her ignoring him, but by the looks of it, he hadn’t noticed one bit. She tuned into his words, “...and that’s how I ended up on this island taking care of my grandmother, and making minimum wage,” Yori let out a long sigh, “Thanks for listening, it feels really nice to get that off of my chest.” Guilt tugged at her chest as she nodded, “It’s no problem, really,” she replied, trying to keep her facade up. Yori smiled and said something about going to grab some drinks, leaving her alone in the booth. (Y/n) let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, letting her gaze follow back up to the poster hanging on the wall. She looked around the bar, making sure no one’s eyes were on her before grabbing the poster off the wall and folding it up, slipping it into the back of her notebook. She grabbed all her pens, and set the notebook in front of her. She intended on getting her information and then going back to the ship for the night. 
Yori brought back drinks to the table. He set hers in front of her before sitting down in front of her. “So tell me about yourself. How did you end up being a pirate?” He chuckled a little with the question, and she had prepared for this. It wasn’t every day someone from your childhood ended up being a pirate. She let out a fake little laugh, “Oh you know how researching things go,” She smiled before changing the subject, “So tell me more about this island and its occupants,” She opened the notebook in front of her, not wanting to dwell on the fact that she was now a wanted woman. Yori took the hint and started giving out information about the island. 
⋆⭒˚.⋆
A few hours had passed, and a few drinks in, the conversation had strayed from the island and onto people they had grown up with. Yori had told (Y/n) about all the classmates that ended up doing good for themselves, and the others who hadn’t. Now they were on the topic of the teachers. Gossip was never something she had typically indulged in, but it wasn’t every day you saw someone you knew on the Grand Line. The laughter between them died down, and (Y/n) looked at the clock on the wall for the first time since she had started taking notes about the island. It was 10pm now, and the sun had disappeared along the horizon. “I better go, it’s getting late,” She told Yori as she gathered up all her things, and put them all back into her bag. They stood up from the booth. “Let me walk you back to the dock, it’s dark out,” He offered. She took his offer and they headed back out to the street. It was far colder than it was whenever they first arrived at the bar, however the walk to the dock was not far so she didn’t have to suffer for long. The stars hung high in the sky, illuminating the land, and dotting the water. They reached the edge of the dock, and Yori turned towards her. “Thank you, for tonight,” he told her. He gazed into her eyes much deeper than she had liked. She took a step back from him before returning his thanks, “Thank you for all the information about this island.” Yori stepped closer to her, reaching out to put his hands on her waist, “Yori-” he cut her off with a quick kiss. She pushed back from him, “Oh, um, Yori… I’m sorry, but this isn’t that,” She told him, creating a far distance between them. Yori stepped back with embarrassment. “Oh,” was all he said. She couldn’t help but to feel bad for the man. She didn’t think she sent any mixed signals. She slowly backed up onto the dock,”Take care of yourself, Yori. Thank you for all the information on the island,” She told him before turning around and walking towards the ship, grateful to get out of that awkward interaction. 
She made her way onto the ship. The corridors were empty, there wasn’t a crewmate in sight. She was happy to be back within the metal walls of the ship. She made her way to her room where she put down all her stuff. She stripped her clothes, and changed back into the boiler suit. It was late, but she still had some work she had to get done, and she still had to report to her captain. She got dressed, and grabbed her notebook from her bag before leaving her room once again. She was going to get some cleaning done, and do the waste disposal before they left the island. The halls were silent, and all she could hear were her footsteps clinking on the floors. A familiar door came into view. The captain’s quarters. Her heart skipped a beat thinking of knocking. The butterflies in her stomach betrayed her as they started to flutter around in her stomach, trying to crawl their way up her throat. She took a deep breath, letting the cool air of the ship fill her lungs. She was now standing in front of the door, with her hand raised. She knocked, hearing a faint ‘come in,’ from the other side. She turned the knob and walked into her captain’s office. 
The air was always cooler in his office, and it always smelled of ink, paper, pine, amber, with a touch of antiseptic. She had come to find this smell comforting, and she thought back to this morning, waking up in between his sheets. A heat fought its way up into her cheeks. She looked at her captain sitting at his desk, hunched over some paperwork. He hadn’t looked up since she had entered the room. She made her way in front of him, breaking the silence, “I gathered some information about this island, if you’d like to hear it.” She offered it to him. She knew that the island held no importance, but she figured she’d offer him the chance to hear what she had gathered. Law looked up at her, motioning for her to continue. She opened her notebook as a folded up piece of paper floated its way down onto his desk. Her heart dropped into her stomach as she went to go snatch the paper up, but Law beat her to it, grabbing the paper in between his two fingers. “What’s this?” he asked her, unfolding the paper. She wanted to melt into the floor. Embarrassment coursed through every limb. Law looked at the poster, smirking a bit, “My wanted poster?” He took a good look at it before handing it back to her, the smirk on his face never falling. “This one is a bit outdated,” He told her, his smirk never falling. It flattered him, really. She folded the wanted poster back up, shoving it in her notebook, humiliation burning through her cheeks. “Tell me about this island,” Law told her, changing the subject, motioning for her to sit down. He knew the island held no importance, and he knew that she still had work to do, but he selfishly decided to keep her there a little longer. It had been a long day, and as much as he’d hate to admit it, being around her relaxed him. He watched her as she opened up the book and started to list off all the things that she had uncovered about the island. He listened to her intently as she spoke, her eyes lighting up every now and then whenever a name was mentioned that could bring some significance to the island. It didn’t take her long to go through all of the information. It was a small island, and there really weren't any reputable names tied to it, aside from the other pirates who would dock and leave just like their crew did. Still, Law took in every second of the information exchange. Once she was done, she looked up at Law with those wide eyes of hers that he swore would bring him to his knees one day. A small, rare smile graced his lips before dropping like it was never there, “It seems you got a lot out of today,” He told her. She smiled wide at him, and nodded, “I did! Yori really filled me in on this place. It’s not as boring as it seems.” She flipped through all of her pages, missing the way Law’s jaw ticked at the mention of the man whom she had spent time with that night. The man that she had gotten all dolled up for. Law knew he shouldn’t feel this way. He knew jealousy was not right, but he couldn’t deny the discomfort that tugged in his gut when he pictured her with someone other than him. It was an unhealthy attachment. It was inappropriate. 
(Y/n) sat across from Law, still oblivious to his inner turmoil. Oblivious to the new feeling that made his head feel hot and his stomach sink low. Without looking up at her captain, she went on about her night, about how Yori caught her up on people from her hometown. How he told her about all the best places to eat on the small island. She missed the way Law’s jaw ticked every time she mentioned the man’s name. She missed the way Law’s leg started to bounce up and down, impatiently. She was too busy flipping through the pages of that beloved notebook, “Oh! Look, I even got a map!” She pulled the map out, walking around the desk to where Law was sitting. She unfolded the map and laid it out in front of him, “It’s really nothing impressive, though, I grabbed at one of those stands down the strip” She looked down at the map, “You can keep the map,” She offered to him, turning towards him. Her knees brushed against Law, and for the first time since she had started rambling she met the eyes of her captain. They were close. She could feel the warmth coming off of Law’s body. The breath she was breathing in caught in her throat. Law cleared his throat, but made no attempts to move back, selfishly relishing in the moment, “Thank you,” he told her. They stayed there for a minute or two, looking at one another before (Y/n) sighed taking one last look at her captain. “I still have some work I need to get done,” She told him, “I still have to do the waste disposal before we leave, and I was going to try to clean up the boiler room a bit.” A feeling of regret from that afternoon gnawed at Law. He felt as if he was too harsh towards her, rude even. He didn’t want her to overwork herself. He knew he was being a hypocrite whenever he made the judgment of her working too much. Law wanted to keep her there for longer. He wanted to spend more time with her. He wanted to hear her sweet voice ramble on about nothing in particular. It had been a long day of Law’s work. He had hardly gotten anything done between being exhausted, and pacing back and forth trying to clear his mind of the very woman standing in front of him. He couldn’t deny the peace that washed over him whenever she sat on the other side of his desk, working away on her own things. “Actually, I was hoping to get your feedback on some of the work I did today,” He told her. He hadn’t actually done a lot of work. It also wasn’t something that she hadn’t seen before. It wasn’t like she was well versed in pathology or anything medical outside of reading Law’s textbooks when she was bored. “Oh, okay!” she cheerfully replied to him, making her way back over to his desk. She walked around to his side, standing next to him, expecting to see some new work on his desk, but she couldn’t make out what was new and what was old from the mess that was his desk. She was standing close to him, again, and he could feel the warmth off of her skin. He could smell the sweet floral perfume she had put on before she left the ship earlier that day. He was growing impatient, playing this waiting game that he had made himself, and it was only getting in the way of his work which was the opposite of what he had intended. 
Law was not an impatient man, but he was tired of weighing the moral costs of making the move. He was tired of ignoring the warm feelings. He was tired of pushing away the lingering thoughts, and burying them in work. He was sleep deprived, and that’s the excuse he decided he would tell himself tomorrow morning. Standing up from his chair, he reached out for her hand. A small gasp fell from her mouth, as she followed the pull towards him, “Cap-” he cut her off, sliding his hand to cup her cheek, the other resting on her waist. He pulled her into a kiss before she could even finish the word. The kiss was electric. White hot pleasure coursed through his veins, as he finally allowed himself to indulge in what he had wanted to for months now. He briefly broke apart, and stuttered words started to fall from her pretty mouth, he shushed her with another kiss, this one deeper. This one filled with need. She let him explore her mouth with his tongue, as he lifted her onto the edge of his desk, slotting himself in between her legs. “C-Cap-” she gasped, but he cut her off again, ”It’s Law,” He corrected her, leaning down to her ear, “In here you can call me Law,” He nipped at her ear, wrapping his hands up in her hair. He trailed down to her neck, leaving kisses and nipping at the skin every now and then. “Law,” she tested his name on her lips. His name sounded so sweet, the way her honeyed voice breathed out the syllables. His grip on her waist tightened, as he listened to her form words that he paid no mind to. “L-Law, this is wrong,” she breathed out, “you're my captain,” Law broke away briefly, “I know,” he told her. 
“Law,” this one came out more of a whine, one filled with need. It made the all too familiar warmth blossom in the pit of his stomach, once again. “I still have things I haven't done,” she pushed against his shoulder, “I h-ave to finish the w-waste disposal,” Law’s kisses were unforgiving, and unwavering. She was melting in his hands, watching herself be turned into putty at the hands of her captain. Law broke his kiss, and looked up at her. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face, “Don't worry about the waste disposal, I'll make Penguin do it,” He told her. As much as she wanted to feel guilty for letting him dump it on someone else, she couldn't. She was too busy trying to make coherent thoughts as her captain continued his actions. Law’s fingers ran up her figure, finding the zipper of her boiler suit. He looked at her, silently asking for permission that she granted with a nod. He slowly undid the zipper to the suit, kissing his way down to her chest. He breathed in her scent, pulling her body impossibly closer to his. He pushed the top of the suit off of her body, leaving her top half in a thin tank top. 
He looked at her closely, closer than he had ever been able to before. Her cheeks were red, and her lips were swollen from his kiss. Temporary red marks littered her neck and chest where he had nipped at the skin. Her hair ruffled from him running his fingers through it. He hesitated for a second before asking her, “How about we take this somewhere more comfortable, yeah?” She nodded at him, as he led her to his bed. He laid her down on his plush mattress, crawling on next to her. She took a deep breath. Pine, hints of amber, antiseptic, Law. His golden eyes took in her figure, in his sheets. In that moment, without difficulty, he could confidently say that she was the most beautiful woman on the planet. He could feel himself falling, and for just this one night, he would let himself. He crawled over her, entrapping her body under his. He let his hands roam over her body, “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered to her. She took his face in her hands, kissing him passionately. For tonight, they both let themselves indulge in this little piece of heaven they had been granted. 
⋆⭒˚.⋆
a/n: thank you all for taking the time to read this series, it means a lot to me, and i'm glad others can enjoy my work. i've had lots of fun writing this!
@drakulana 2024 // i do not give permission to copy, translate, or repost, any of my content without my consent
Taglist: @shuujin , @pinksaiyans , @buttmishaaaa, @tokaio, @augustanna, @sukilovesyou, @mschoiyuki, @songinabottle , @starlightanyaaa, @elen-alambil, @theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction
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radioisntdead · 4 months
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alastor x sleepy Reader? Thank u ^_^
Good evening my dear! No idea what you wanted so I'm going with headcanons!
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Sleepy reader headcanons
Warnings: none other then The reader has wings because in my sleep deprived brain think being wrapped with wings is just so cozy and warm, also bat coded, I am writing this while sleep deprived because I got motivation for some reason, this is short also this is bordering on chaotic.
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Both you and Alastor have horrible sleeping habits, but whereas he stays up for multiple days in a row then crashes horribly you take power naps, like five minute "naps" throughout the day in random places
like in my other sleepy reader headcanons [I think??] Reader takes cat naps in weird spaces, I imagine you sleep upside down like a bat, [unrelated but hear me out on a bat reader, like is that NOT ADORABLE]
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Lil' adorable creature of the night. This is just me spreading bat propaganda, bat-ganda I swear if bat-ganda is an actual word that doesn't mean something with literal bats I'm biting someone chomp chomp bith
Anyways, Alastor often finds you sleeping hanging upside down on the chandelier, door frames, anything that dangles,
I imagine you've probably slipped a few times and he's had to catch you because high place and it'd be such a shame for his favorite you, to get injured!
I imagine you have a tendency to fall asleep on him.
Dude has definitely moved out of the way as you toppled over asleep causing you to fall on the floor.
He finds it hilarious.
Sometimes he'll let you snooze on his shoulder or lap especially during broadcasts.
I imagine when Alastor inevitably crashes from sleep exhaustion you take the chance to get proper sleep,
You have a built-in blanket, it's the wings.
Either you wrap both you and Alastor in your wings like a joint cocoon, or he just straight up has one of your wings over him like a blanket as y'all nap.
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I can't draw Alastor, stupid haircut deer man
I imagine since Alastor hates being touched by the majority of people, you're in the very short list of people that are allowed to touch him, that bring said I hope you wake up before him in the wing cocoon because if not broski is just trapped there, as snug as a bug in a rug, or as snug as a deer in a wing cocoon.
I imagine the wing cocoon is warm but not melty warm like hot chocolate warm.
Very nice place to nap, wings comfy.
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Good evening folks! Hope you enjoyed, someone KNOCK ME OUT WITH A BAGUETTE PLEASE, as per usual thank you for tuning on in!
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sleepingdayaway · 9 months
Note
GAGGGRGRGRG IMMEDIATELY RUSHED TO THE ASK BOX WHEN I SAW UR REQUEST WERE OPEN I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH IM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH, WOULD IT BE ALRIGHT TO ASK FOR A PART 3 TO THE PLAYER HAS YHE FIERE DEITY MASK??? IF NOT JUST IGNORE THIS REQUEST!!! HAVE A GOOD DAY
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HSDFBAEJRBFUHVFDB HOLY CRAP??? I DIDN'T EXPECT FOR YOU GUYS TO HONESTLY LIKE THE FIERCE DEITY STORY.
Once again! It's short so my bad. When I first wrote this it was supposed to be just 1 part lol didn't expect y'all to genuinely like it. :)
Characters: Time, Fierce Deity, and Reader
Warnings: None
The silence was so loud after those words were spoke.
The group of blondes all looked at the eldest in fear that the man would just pounce on the poor individual who, quite obviously, has no idea on what is going on. Who has just simply grown attached to the first thing that showed them kindness after being woken up in a place that wasn't their home.
"What in the actual fuck?"
Time is regretting even trying to bargain with the individual as they hold one the most dangerous mask, in their hands.
Every fiber of his being is screaming at him to simply lunge for it, but Time's rational part of himself is refusing to submit. It would be unfair to them. Really, the person looked exhausted, their body tensed as if they were fighting moments before they arrived. There was also a slight hint of fear and caution in their eyes as they scanned him and his friends. Subtle signs that they might've used the mask before they arrived, which surpised him that the young adult is still standing.
Said person flinched back at his words. Unconsciously fidgeting with Fierce Deity in their hands. "He says your name is, Link," they continued with a look of hopefulness as they made eye contact with Time's eyes.
"That you could help me? That you were taken by this freaky shadow thing-" [Name] ranted on as their posture slowly relaxed. In return, Time's shoulders slumped slightly as he stares at them.
Eventually [Name] drifted off and stared hesitantly at Time. Searching for any more signs of hostility since he did look like he was going to fucking tackle them into the ground earlier. If they were to even move an inch.
A familiar chuckle echoed in their head. "You aren't wrong there, little one" Fierce Deity teased. "The young hero used to always dive head first into situations without a plan." The Deity merely found this entire thing amusing, and was he going to enjoy it as much as he can.
[Name] tenses up. Okay, they may not know what the fuck is going on, and it's really unfair that the Fierce Deity mask? Person? Has a really hot voice.
"I swear to god, if you say shit like that unannounced I'm going to throw you-"
"Excuse me?"
A noise of fear escaped from [Name's] lips at the acknowledgement. Their hands loosened for a moment before squeezing as if they were warning the entity in the mask. A hesitant smile appears on their mouth as they look up at the older man.
'Holy fuck- if I'm holding the Fierce Deity mask then that means I'm speaking to Link-'
[Name] does a double take at the blonde. He's quite tall, no longer the small hero that ran around helping the land of Termina and Hyrule. The young boy is nonexistent but they believe he hasn't been that youthful optimistic child he once was for a long time.
When did their precious boy get freaking tall??? Wasn't most versions of Link smaller than the average Hylian?
"I wasn't talking to you! The mask said something stupid so I-"
"He can speak to you?? What- you can hear him??"
"My brother in christ if you interrupt me again, I'm walking the other direction."
A smooth deep laugh echoed in their head at the short responses. Fierce Deity relished in this moment; the familiar bickering between the older hero and the young guide.
It brought him back to the moment during the Hero of Time's journey. During the final fight with Majora, the Fierce Deity was conscious during the entire battle. Giving his strength to the young hero and his guide. A moment where the both of you were panicking. Which then caused a stressed conversation between the two of you.
"Link- Link I swear to god if you take off this mask because you think it'll be funny. I will make sure Majora punches you so hard you blackout for the rest of this fight"
"Oh come on! It'll only be off just for a moment."
"NO-"
Oh yes. The God could only wait and enjoy on how everything will go. He will refuse to speak up and explain on what is going on. In his eyes, why not let the children piece everything together?
Besides it fine to let himself be a bit selfish in knowing who you are. It has been a long time since he's seen you. You can't blame him, can you?
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mxstellatayte · 4 days
Text
landoscar 4+1 kiss things.
alternate title: four times it's casual and the first time it isn't
this one is inspired by @prokrastinartiya's landoscar kissing meme! i saw it, fell in love, BOOM absolutely locked in for an idea :)) (before y'all start telling me it's normally 5+1 I KNOW shhhhhhh i prioritize quality over quantity)
contains: the 4 is mostly fluff but a lil bit of spice, the +1 is straight up smut tho, smut warnings: making out, sub lando, miami gp win, congratulatory sex, L bombs, lowkey a shitty ending bc i don't know how to write endings LOL, just two boys being really in love :)
find the original art post that inspired this here!
taglist: @vivi-81 @irishmanwhore @lucycowr @benstormy @anat33-blog1
@Xoscar03 @tremendousstarlighttragedy @nenamalenaa @champagneproblems17 @marknolee
@toby33b @theendofthematerialgworl @soloqualcosa @sassyinchident808
join my taglist here!
i: the establishing kiss.
contrary to popular belief, oscar's love language is physical touch. he doesn't let it show all that much, but when he feels safe with someone, he doesn't stop showing it.
take lando, for example.
the first time he kisses lando, they're in japan in 2023. the brit is initially confused and a little bit shocked, taken aback by the sudden change in oscar's demeanor, but quickly learns to reciprocate.
lando had been endlessly yapping about something or other, oscar hadn't really been paying attention, but when his engineer poked his head in to summon oscar for a quick check in about potential tyre strategies, oscar stood, pressed a kiss to lando's cheek, and was about to walk out of the room before he heard his teammate short circuit.
"shit, sorry. it was an automatic reflex. is it... was that okay?" oscar had backpedaled, completely ignorant to the flush that immediately flooded lando's summer-tanned skin.
"y- yeah, it's fine, i just... wasn't expecting it."
oscar takes that as permission to continue the goodbye kisses.
ii: on the forehead.
the second time, lando is clinging to oscar's arm in his sleep, the left side of his body plastered to oscar's right and his head resting on oscar's shoulder. they're heading back to the MTC on the team jet after qatar, and frankly, oscar understands lando's exhaustion. the heat that weekend was entirely unbearable to the point where multiple teams, including mclaren, were genuinely concerned for their drivers' and pit crews' safety, and most, if not all, of the drivers had reported feeling unwell in their cars. the fact that he and lando had somehow managed to scrape a double podium together despite the brutal conditions was astounding.
lando shifts a bit in his sleep, the crown of his head resting in the nook between oscar's jaw and his shoulder, and a protective impulse hits oscar like a freight train. he tilts his head just so, pressing his lips to lando's forehead gently enough so that he doesn't wake, instead sighing delicately in oscar's arms and shifting impossibly closer.
oscar lays his head on top of lando's and passes out within minutes, the comforting weight of lando's body on his lulling him into the deepest sleep he's gotten in weeks.
iii: on the cheek.
the next kiss occurs inside the MTC, and this time, it's lando's lips on oscar's skin.
immediately after being released from the team debrief meeting that stretches on, in lando's entirely correct opinion, for an unnecessarily long amount of time, he all but throws himself into oscar's arms, and oscar gladly accepts, wrapping his own arms around lando's waist and burying his face into the soft fabric of lando's hoodie. thankfully, lando had quickly caught on to the fact that reciprocating oscar's physical touch is not only acceptable but also welcomed and encouraged, so he'd begun initiating hugs and slotting himself underneath oscar's arm more frequently in the past weeks.
"hello to you, too," oscar murmurs into lando's hoodie, taking comfort in the feeling of lando's arms around his body.
"'m so happy you're okay," lando mumbles, his face tucked into the crook of oscar's neck between his jaw and his shoulder. "you... you are okay, right?" he pulls back briefly, looking up at oscar with concerned eyes that search oscar's own, scanning for any signs of discomfort or pain but finding none.
"i'm okay. are you?" lando's eyes slip shut with a nod, the most delicate of smiles tugging at his lips.
"yeah, i'm good."
"good." lando pulls back, much to oscar's disappointment, the stale, conditioned air of the conference room replacing the comforting warmth of lando's body almost immediately. sensing that the hug is now over, oscar lets his hands drop, settling awkwardly at his sides.
fuck it, oscar thinks. "you wanna get dinner?"
lando sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face. "i don't know, mate, i'm pretty beat. breakfast tomorrow?"
had lando not been focused on noticing how scuffed his trainers are, he would've seen the way oscar's lips fell into his signature pout. instead, he hears a quiet "oh, okay," before looking back up and smiling faintly. "i'll text you?"
oscar sounds like a kicked puppy.
"oh, come here, you muppet." lando's left arm wraps around oscar's shoulders and his right hand holds oscar's chin, his lips on oscar's cheek, and... yeah. that's exactly what oscar needed. "where do you wanna get dinner?"
iv: on the neck.
it's early february, and they're finally back in woking to film some teaser content before pre-season tests in bahrain.
"mm, i missed you," lando says, tilting his head back as oscar mouths at his neck, and oscar hums in response. of course, oscar takes that opportunity to graze his teeth across the delicate skin of lando's neck, which, in turn, makes lando whine.
when oscar pulls back to catch his breath, his mouth goes dry, a stark contrast to the spit-shiny side of lando's neck. the fact that the buttons of his team kit polo are all completely undone and the collar is shoved to the side only adds to it, but his disheveled curls and flushed face really tie it all together with a pretty bow made of the finest ribbon oscar could ever imagine. "fuck, you look beautiful."
"osc," lando whines, and the look in his eyes can only be described as downright pathetic. his eyes are glassy, his lips parted and red from how furiously oscar had kissed them just minutes before, and his chest heaves with the panting breaths he's taking. it's only then that oscar notices- lando's hard.
+i: on the lips.
oscar hasn't really fully processed it yet. lando just got his maiden formula 1 win. he heard it on the radio, the replay of lando's overwhelmed cheers, screaming to his engineer that they did it, they finally did it.
it's only when his lips find lando's long after the podium ceremony, the lingering taste of champagne, sweat, and tears filtering itself onto his tongue, that he realizes just how real it is, and he can't even find it in himself to be mad that he wasn't in the points. "'m so proud of you," oscar says between kisses. "so fucking proud of you." the soft duvet of the hotel room bed wrinkle as lando squirms in an attempt to release some of the pent-up energy from all the adrenaline coursing through his body.
"fuck, osc..." lando's brain short circuits when he feels oscar's hands reach underneath his shirt, calloused fingertips on sensitive skin. "thank you." lando keeps smiling stupidly into the kisses oscar's pressing to his lips, hands scrabbling to grasp at whatever they can. oscar feels like every single sense in his body is heightened, and he's noticing every single detail about every single kiss he feels. the scent of champagne and sweat and lando's skin, the taste of something so distinctly lando that oscar doesn't think he'll ever be able to describe in words, and, above all, the feeling of lando's skin on his. desperate hands grabbing everywhere on oscar's body they can reach, the toned muscle of his abdomen beneath oscar's palms, lando's legs tight around his waist, bringing oscar impossibly closer to the tender skin on the inside of his thighs-
fuck.
he's hard.
"oscar," lando whines, pulling away ever so slightly to catch his breath. "fuck me."
what?
what the fuck?
oscar swears he's hearing things. the roar of engines, wheel guns, and fans' screams have finally gotten to him and he's suffering from either hallucinations or straight up hearing loss.
"what?"
"fuck me, please. there's lube and condoms in the bottom of my suitcase." and... fuck. stronger men have been defeated by less, so there's no way in hell oscar will be able to resist that, especially with how desperate lando sounds.
"where you hoping this would happen?" oscar stands, immediately mourning the loss of lando's body heat, but hastily rummages through the suitcase placed at the foot of the bed, easily locating the bottle of lube and a condom from the bottom of lando's suitcase, exactly where he said they'd be. he doesn't miss the way lando's cheeks flush even more as he nods, hands desperately fumbling to get his shirt off, just to have something to do with them. oscar grins and clicks his tongue, dropping the lube and condom next to lando's hip. "let's get these jeans off, yeah?"
"please." lando's hands fly to his pants, popping the button open and shoving the fly down before shimmying his legs out of the denim. a shuddering sigh pushes past his lips at the release of pressure, and oscar shoves his own jeans down, kicking his and lando's pants off of the bed. there's a faint dark spot on the front of lando's boxers, his erection tenting the fabric, and oscar's sure he looks no different.
"are you sure about this?" there's a nagging in the back of oscar's mind, telling him it's all the adrenaline from lando's maiden win, that this isn't actually what lando wants, that he's going to regret it in the morning... the tone of oscar's voice brings lando out of his haze, clarity returning to the race winner's eyes alongside something else that oscar can't currently pinpoint at the moment.
"do you want to do this?" that's what it is. concern. lando's voice is clear, lacking any of the previous whiny twinge it'd held just moments prior, and his hands come up to gently hold the side of oscar's neck, his fingertips brushing the short bits of oscar's hair. "if you don't want to do this, we can go out and get drunk and forget this ever happened." his eyes search oscar's, his multicolored irises inspecting for any sign of discomfort, hesitation, or uneasiness.
leaving is the last thing oscar wants to do. he knows that much.
with a deep, steadying breath and a shift of his hips- oh, fuck, that was a mistake, because now his clothed dick is laying in the juncture of lando's hip and thigh, and, instead of the thought-out words he was going to say, the only thing that spills past his lips is a moan and a breathy "stay" on the tail end of it. the muscles in his arms give out and he collapses on top of lando, his face tucked into the crook of lando's neck, and when he inhales, lando's fingers already raking soothing rows along his scalp, he smells champagne, sweat, and lando's body wash.
"stay."
"okay, osc. i can do that."
oscar isn't sure how long they lay there, lando's left hand resting in the small of oscar's back and his right rubbing soothing lines into oscar's scalp, but by the time his heart rate slows and his brain stops running a mile a minute, the desperation and speed that he was ready to fuck lando with has sunk out of his body. there's only one problem- well, rather, two problems, but one stems from the other. one: oscar and lando are both still hard. two: neither of them have the energy required for prep, sex, and aftercare.
lando is able to solve both of those problems, though.
"osc?"
"hm?"
"do you want me to get you off?" oscar's face flushes, a whine falling from his lips in embarrassment, but he nods into lando's neck. "yeah?" oscar nods again. "okay, baby. i'm gonna need you to get these off for me, though." he thumbs at the elastic waistband of oscar's boxers, and oscar is barely able to muster enough strength to push himself up and off of lando's chest to pull his boxers off and toss them aside before falling back onto lando. "can you roll over for me, baby?" okay, scratch that. now he summons the last of his strength to roll off of lando, wincing slightly when the long-forgotten bottle of lube and condom dig into his ribs.
"hey." lando's voice has a tenderness to it that oscar's never heard before, used to the constant energy and bubbly laughs, and it makes something stir deep in oscar's chest. before he can prod into it and try to figure out what it might be, though, lando's rolling over and slotting his left leg between oscar's, leaning down, and kissing oscar with a certain softness that leaves every point of contact with lando's body fizzling with electricity. it's a unique and beautifully intimate moment, chests pressed together and bodies touching everywhere they possibly can as hands grasp for places to hold the other closer.
oscar moans into the kiss, high and pathetic, when lando takes both of their cocks into his hand, and even dry, he thinks he could cum just like that.
"oh, fuck, lando-" oscar's eyes are screwed shut, panting as lando continues licking into his mouth, running his tongue along oscar's lips before dipping down to oscar's neck, mimicking the same actions there. lando can't form a verbal response, so he simply hums relishing in the taste of oscar's skin. the aussie doesn't want to admit just how keyed up he is, doesn't want to admit the fact that, with a little bit of lube and a little bit of movement, he'd be cumming onto lando's hand.
thankfully, though, lando seems to be in the same boat, and he makes that very well known with a perfectly timed gentle thrust of his hips forward and a slight loosening of his hand, and the sound that it pulls from oscar's throat can only be described as unholy. "osc..."
"like this, lando, please."
"fuck, me too." oscar jumps slightly when the cold lube hits his cock, but with the slide it adds and the grip around lando's big hand has around them both and the fact that he's completely caged in and every single sense is flooded with lando, lando, lando, the temperature difference is rapidly forgotten in favor of white-hot pleasure. he can't stop himself- his hips are canting up into lando's hand, and it just feels so, so good. oscar's ears aren't processing the difference between his moans and lando's, so all he knows is that there's sounds of sex filling the hotel room, the wet slide of his cock along lando's, and it's so much at once.
when lando's hips start moving, too, fucking into his own fist, oscar throws his head back into the fluffy pillow and groans so loud that he gets a flickering sense of sympathy for whatever neighbors may share a wall with this hotel room, but it's immediately wiped from his brain as lando's lips meet his once more.
oscar isn't sure how much time passes, his lips and tongue gliding along lando's and their hips fucking into lando's hand, but his ears finally process that lando's moaning his name, desperately mouthing at his neck. "oscar, aah, fuck, i'm gonna cum, please, 'm gonna cum-" and, well. oscar didn't think he had a thing for begging, much less a thing for his teammate begging, yet here he is.
"yeah. yeah, go for it. cum for me, baby." before oscar finishes talking, his words breathy and faint, lando's cumming with a cry, his hips shuddering as his cum paints his hand and oscar's cock and stomach in a pearly white. oscar looks down, and the sight he's met with is absolutely filthy. past the mop of lando's curly hair and sweat-shiny skin, he sees the way lando's muscles tense with every thrust and the way his dick is painted white with cum and lube.
"fuck, fuck, fuck, osc, love you, love you so much." and that's what sends him over the edge, muscles in his torso tensing as he grasps desperately at lando's shoulders.
"aah, lan- love you. love you."
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restinslices · 5 months
Note
Can you write the Lin Kuei boy’s reaction to a surprise spa day by their spouse? Like it’s a rare day off and their partner’s surprised them with a nice day of rest and relaxation?
I’m on meds again and it has me exhausted so this might be short and some may have longer parts than others. I didn’t check. I’m finna go to sleep again
Bi-Han
I wouldn't be surprised if he initially turned it down 
He expects things to pop off and for him to be needed so a spa day seems like it'll prevent him from being ready if he's called upon 
You don't take no for an answer tho
Grumpy the entire time but doesn't hate it 
He just doesn't wanna admit he was wrong and a spa day wasn't torture 
I think he'd enjoy things that don't take awhile or something that allows him to still move around 
Like, you know when someone is being waxed and they gotta lay there? I don't think that’d he something he'd enjoy 
Something like a facemask tho (put it on quickly then he can do whatever else while it dries) he'd enjoy more 
Some people get their nails done, and I don't think he's like “absolutely not!” but I don't see him wanting a color. He's a clear gel type of guy 
Now I will go back and contradict what I said earlier and say he'd enjoy a jet bath 
Has a shorter spa day than the others. At some point he's just like “yeah I'm over it”
“That wasn't so bad, now was it?” “It wasn't terrible”
Just say you appreciate it 
Kuai Liang
A spa day? Sure!
I feel like saying he'd enjoy the hot things (sauna, hot bath, them hot ass rocks) is stereotypical because the whole fire thing but imma say it anyway 
Probably enjoys activities that you can do as a team 
Like sitting in a sauna. You're together and you can chat 
Or bathing together 
Appreciates a bit of relaxation because his life? Stressful as fuck 
Especially if this is after Bi-Han's betrayal 
Definitely open to having another spa day. Whether it's a surprise or not 
I see all of them as clear gel guys tbh 
Also enjoys a jet bath, but honestly who dislikes a good bath?
Dislikes the whole face rubbing shit 
Why do I think this? I'm just tryna make them different. I think it's essential to be truthful in our relationship-
Yeah the spa day is for him but he checks in to make sure you're having a good time too
Makes sure to repay the favor. This could mean taking you out to eat after, taking you out another day soon, paying for the next spa day, getting you a gift, ect. Whatever you want. 
“How was it?” “It was great! Thank you”
Tomas
Him turning down a spa day? Absolutely not. Do you remember when his last day of peace was? He doesn't 
Ignore that this is literally the era of peace-
Enjoys the little vacation and makes sure you know he's appreciative of you thinking of him 
You both wanna cater to the other and do what they wanna do first so you have to compromise and take turns 
You do what Tomas is interested in, then what you're interested in and then it keeps going like that 
Enjoys the steam room because smoke pun obviously 
I don't think he necessarily needs to chat the whole time, but he likes you still being near 
You MIGHT get him to agreeing to a little waxing 
Y'all know how men are. They're all big and strong but squeal when waxing is involved 
Milks the entire day for what it's worth. A jacuzzi? He's in there. Steam room? Yes. Massages? Absolutely. 
There's nothing he misses. You paid for it so he might as well do everything while he can 
Definitely wants to do it again 
“So I'm assuming you enjoyed it?” “You really need me to answer?”
158 notes · View notes
cerridwen007 · 4 months
Text
Unwind.
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*Images are from Pinterest and are used for aesthetics only.
Pairing: Boyfriend!Dieter Bravo x f!reader (afab)
Word count: 4.1k (18+) MINORS DNI!
Summary: Your boyfriend, Dieter, has come home early from a project. Hoping to surprise you, he instead gets a surprise of his own when he discovers what you like to do unwind alone from a long day.
Notes/warnings: Smut, fluff, DUB-CON (one party is under the influence of ouid but they are both very into it), established relationship, accidental pervy!Dieter, accidental exhibitionism, pussy drunk Dieter, masturbation (f and m), sex toys, descriptions of smoking the devils lettuce, mentions of other drugs, porn with little plot, oral (f!receiving), piv sex, cumplay, they are both just super horny and sweet for each other, swearing, no y/n. 
a/n: My first Dieter fic, I can’t remember really where or when I got the idea for this fic, but I knew it just screamed Dieter. This is probably quite up there with the filthiest thing i've written, and i'm not sorry, lol. Also, I apologise for my very long absence in posting writing. Life just got the best of me, and I lost all motivation pretty much to write. Ngl I don't think this is my best work, cause I'm a little rusty but it's fun and I enjoyed writing it. But anyway, I hope y'all enjoy, and any interactions with my posts mean the world to me. Love yall so much! <3
*******
Now that his months-long project had wrapped up early, all Dieter wanted to do was surprise you. The both of you had long played the game of hiding behind corners and hiding in all sorts of spots to try and scare each other, all throughout your relationship. 
But more often than not, it was you that made his heart jump out his chest, and a long list of swear words leave his mouth as he over-dramatically clutched his chest. To which you always laughed so hard you cried a little at another successful scare and his reaction. “I'll get you next time.” he mumbles, under his breath, a cheeky grin on his handsome face as he plans when best to get you back.
So now, with an upper hand, he was hoping that he could give you a big fright and jump out of your closet when you least expect it. But what happened was so much more surprising.
You had just gotten back to your shared apartment after what felt like the longest week of your life. You had been drowning in deadlines at work and were so glad that it was friday evening so you could finally get a proper break. After ‘gracefully’ hanging up your jacket on the hooks near the front door and tossing your keys into the bowl on the entryway table, you immediately take off your bra as you walk into your apartment. Throwing it on the back of one of the barstools sitting in front of your kitchen island.
A loud sigh exhaling from your mouth as the pressure is released from your sore shoulders. It had been a long day at work before you ran around afterwards, getting a whole bunch of errands done that you had been putting off. So you were exhausted and understandably so. 
You kick off your shoes as you walk through the messy apartment, not bothering to put them away where they belong or tidy up the growing mess just yet. No, first you need to unwind from the long ass week you had. Besides, the weekend started tomorrow, and you would have plenty of time to clean up then and before Dieter came back a week and a half from now.
You sighed again sadly thinking about your boyfriend. God, you missed him. He had been gone about 3 months now, and each day didn't get any easier. When the two of you were together, you were attached at the hip. Spending all the time you could together; talking, laughing, cuddling and fucking.
So it was quite a change the last few months going from spending almost all your time with your favourite person to almost none, except the few short calls Dieter managed to find time to have with you amongst his very busy schedule. 
You tried to remind yourself of the fact that Dieter would be back before you knew it, and then you could once again spend all the much needed time together that you wanted.
You opened your fridge looking for a snack. You could have to tie your over till dinner that you would order yourself later, a treat for the end of a busy week. 
You picked a few string cheese packets from the chilly shelves of your fridge before closing it shut with your hip as you walked off into your living room. Sitting down with a big “oof” on your couch and immediately sinking deep into the plush cushions as far as you could.
Dieter's heart was beating fast as he watched you through the horizontal slats of the storage closet door. He waited with baited breath, trying to find the perfect time to jump out and give you both the scare and surprise of a lifetime. He had been lucky enough to arrive an hour or so before you got home, which gave him plenty of time to get ready and pick the best hiding spot before you arrived.
He bites his lip, trying to hold back the chuckles wanting to escape as he imagined your hopefully soon to be shocked face. He watches as you get comfy on the couch and can’t help but look at you with adoration, even with dark circles under your eyes and your hair slightly untamed, you looked like a dream, the prettiest thing he has seen. 
You quickly finish your cheese sticks, hungrier than you thought you were, and toss the wrappers on the coffee table. Yet another thing to be cleaned up tomorrow. You let out a long yawn and stretched your arms above your head. A cheeky smile graces your mouth as you realise how you're going to spend the rest of your night unwinding.
You waste no time in reaching into the draws of your coffee table before you and pulling out a dark green bong with small red flowers decorating it that Dieter got you for your birthday last year. You put it down the top of the coffee table briefly as you pull out a matching glass box with your stash in it and a red grinder. 
Your fingers are working swiftly in their practiced work as you get your first cone ready. You pull out your black zippo lighter with your and Dieters' initials and the day the two of you started dating engraved on the front. You flick your thumb over the flint wheel a few times until it ignites. You take in a fraction of a breath before putting your mouth on the end of the glass tube, tilted towards you.
Holding the flame over dried grounds, watching as the white smoke slowly crawls up the neck of the bong. You let the smoke enter your lungs, filling you with warmth.
Your lips only disconnect when all the smoke is gone and you breathe in a little of fresh air. You hold it in your mouth for a few seconds before you tilt your head back and exhale all the hazy smoke. Your loose fist covers your mouth when you let a small cough. 
You decide to do one more hit before you put down the ‘vase’ and let your head rest against the center of the back of the couch. Your legs spread wide, carelessly, as you wait for the drug to slowly take its effects. You groan as you lie back on the couch with a mouthful of smoke. You tilt your head up to look up at the ceiling as you let the hazy white cloud float from your parted lips.
Reaching down beside you, your fingers find something from out under your couch, a rectangle box. You open it to reveal a matte purple 8 inch, life-like, dildo. Fit with veins, balls at the base, and all. Your mouth waters just from the sight.
You have been extremely horny as of late. You always are when Dieter goes away for long periods of time, and you don’t have him to give you toe-curling orgasms all the time. You can never make yourself cum quite as hard as Dieter can make you come, but not from lack of trying. You lazily scoot down the couch a bit so you can take your pants and underwear off. 
Dieter eyes bulge in head when he realises what you about to do and he swears his heart skips a beat when he sees that you're wearing his boxer briefs, even more so when he sees a glistening line of arousal, saturating them. He palms his now fully erect cock through his jeans, as his eyes connect with your glistening folds.
You take the hefty dildo out of the box and half haphazardly toss the container to the ground. Your breath hitches in your throat as you make quite work of sliding it through your folds, the tip catches deliciously on your clit.
You toss it to the side for a quick sec and reach down to your bong on the coffee table, after taking another cone you put it back on the table and grab the remote of the table, flicking on the tv and putting on one of your favourite vibey sex playlists on spotify on.
You sigh as you lean back and you take off your work shirt, leaving you in nothing but a flimsy old tank top, which you nipples prominently stick out of and some cosy socks. You pull your breasts out of your shirt and start groping yourself while watching the screen playing at a low volume, with hazy eyes.
You soon pick the silicone dick up again and slowly tease yourself by tracing around your lips and through your dripping seam. Your head lulls on the back of the couch. You tease around your aching hole with the tip before pushing in ever so slightly. Your eyes roll back for a second as you moan at the slight stretch. “D-dieter.” You softly call out.
His eyes bulge out of his sockets watching you, his hand unconsciously reaching down under the elastic of his pants to feel his rock-hard erection. He swipes his thumb over his weeping tip and has to bite back a groan.
You pump in so slowly, only till it reaches halfway before you pull it out further again. You continue this to help work yourself open.
He watches you intently, stroking himself to the slow rhythm youv’e set for fucking yourself. He uses his other hand to pinch his base every few minutes, to keep from blowing his load, so close just from the sight of you.
God, he doesnt even care about scaring and surprising you anymore, all he cares about is watching you as you fuck your self, quietly calling out his name as you take your time in getting to your release. He has half a mind to just jump out now and fuck you himself but the sight of you spread out for him, caught up in your own little pleasure-filled world is a sight to good to be true. 
He studies your form like he doesn't know it like the back of his hand, like he hasn't spent hours upon hours coaxing the prettiest little moans and whimpers from you, caressing over every single inch of you.
His eyes will never grow tired of the sight of you, your centre gushing with arousal, your eyes fighting to stay open, your mouth on the other hand, fighting to stay closed as a beautifully orchestrated ensemble of curses, moans, groans and his name come flooding out of your mouth.
His mouth waters as the ring of your arousal grows thicker around the base of the silicone cock. He missed the taste of you so much, while he was away. He loved spending hours between your legs, until you were shaking and overstimulated and had to beg him to stop. Crying out “Dieter! Please!” as you struggled to push away his starved mouth.
Your head is feeling quite light now, and the pleasure is rushing through your veins as you increase the speed of your strokes. You keep chanting Dieter’s name, over and over again, softly as if it will summon him somehow. Well shit, maybe it does.
Before he even realises what he is doing, his hand is fumbling for the doorknob of the closet, and he is stepping out, sweaty, and disheveled, all just from watching you. Your heart stops for a second as you hear the closet door near you open, your brain unable to come up with any sane reasonings until Dieter walks out flushed and sheepishly in a trance, consumed by his love and lust for you. 
“Dieter?” You whisper, shocked to your core, that he is standing in front of you and still not entirely convinced that he isn't a hallucination caused by your hornyness and longing for him. And also maybe the drugs too.
He swallows harshly, his throat dry. All the liquids in his body seemingly have traveled lower in anticipation. You're about to jump up from the couch and squeeze him till his ribs break, but he beats you to it, sinking to the floor in front of you and hugging your calves tightly. As much as you missed your baby, you can't help but feel a little awkward, having been caught masturbating and still with the dildo between your legs, no doubt.
Before you can even clear your throat and try to explain yourself, Dieter starts kissing along the tops of your thighs, up your stomach, then sternum, up your throat till his lips lock onto yours. He kisses you with such meaning and passion as he tries and conveys all the feeling of how much he missed you and is so glad to see you now into a single kiss
“God. I. Missed.You. So. Much. Baby.” He says in between quick pecks before once again consuming your mouth with his own, trying to make up for all that lost time he wasn't able to taste your lips on his.
You break the kiss with a gasp, looking down to your legs where Dieter is spreading them to see the current state of your throbbing pussy. “Fuck and it sure looks like she missed me too, huh sweetheart. Just oozing and weeping, begging for my touch. Ain't that right baby?” He lovingly teases.
You grin and spread your legs even further to let him get an even better look at you swollen, glistening folds, still clenching around the girth of the dildo. He reaches his hand up between your legs and pulls the toy in and out of you slowly, eliciting a whimper from you.
“Fuck.” He groans, completely enthralled by the sight of you, and the growing creamy ring of arousal you have created around the base of the cock. He continues to slowly pump it in and out of you, as you squirm above him, your once lost orgasm now coming so close to grasp again. 
“Dieter...please.” You croon, begging him not to stop as you feel the edge of your high starts to wash over you.
“Atta girl, fuck just like that. Cum for me baby.” He softly demands, as he works the now shiny dildo hard, fast and deep into your cunt. He sits up a bit on his knees and hovers over you.
Leaning his head to the side he starts to suck on your pulsing clit. His eyes roaming between your leaking hole and trembling thighs, up to your red, cloudy eyes struggling to stay open with your brows furrowed above them. Your mouth agape, curses and whimpers as your orgasm hits you full force. 
He watches with blown eyes, mouth hanging open, nearly drooling at the sight of your back arching off the couch, as the waves of your orgasm crash over you. He slowly pumps the cock in and out of you, prolonging your high till your legs close firmly around it. He carefully opens them back enough so he can pull out the cock.
He palms himself as he inspects the aftermath, mouth watering from the sight and smell of your creamy residue slathered upon the tip to the flared base of the slick silicone. He sticks out his tongue and brings the base, where most of the cum has gathered in a band round the bottom, to his mouth. You watch stunned and too aroused to speak as he licks it clean of your sweet drippings. 
“God baby, missed the taste of this sweet pussy.” he groans. You clench around nothing as you watch him, eyes fluttering behind closed lids, messily tongue the silicone like one might lick brownie or cookie batter of a spatula.
After he finishes with the lower half, his lips pink and shiny, he wordlessly brings the tip up to your face. You grin devilishly before opening your lips wide and sucking the fat head into your mouth. You too moan at the sweet taste of yourself, not often shared directly from the source but usually from Dieters tongue do you taste the sticky release of your climax.
He palms his painfully hard cock through his pants, before spreading your thighs wide once again, and feasting on the remaining juices. You moan as best as you can with the cock down your throat, before removing it from your mouth and sitting it beside you as you watch Dieter's beautiful curls bob up and down between your legs. 
His tongue slides from your quivering hole to your clit, licking flatly. He alternates between sucking your nub, to fucking into your wet hole.
You fight to keep your thighs open, to not crush his head or let the gorgeous sight below you be hidden, but you can’t any more as the drug haze inside your veins seems to have taken all your strength. Sensing your struggle, Dieter curls his arms around your thighs, holding them open and drags your center closer to his hungry mouth.
You whimper at the dull pain that you feel from his tight grip holding you apart, just under your breaking point. The aching soreness from your legs being spread so wide, only adding to the intensity of pleasure rolling around in your stomach. 
He alternates between eating you messily, and slowly picking you apart. Motorboating his lips and nose between your folds, and precise and firm licks on your clit while curling his thick fingers up into that sweet, sweet spot inside you, that has you moaning, incohesive gibberish from your pleasure and drug intoxication.
Even with Dieter being the sober one (surprisingly), he sounds just as wrecked as you, if not more. So drunk and intoxicated on you and your pussy, something he and you both thought he was deprived of way too long.
Soon you are reaching yet another, and surely not the last of night, orgasm. Your thighs shake with the intensity of the pleasure seeping into your veins. Your lips go from being an wide ‘o’ shape to a cheesy wide grin as the dopamine and endorphins flood your system. 
Dieter makes sure he licks up every single drop of your essence before he rises off his knees slightly and encases you in a massive, big bear hug. Feeling what little air was left in your lungs, you giggle along with Dieter breathlessly as you squeeze his middle just as hard.
He lifts his head to plant the softest, sweet kiss on your lips before rubbing his nose against yours. You take a deep, tired breath in and your eyes flutter close, his delicious musky scent filling your nostrils once again. 
“I missed you so much too, baby.” You whisper. You admire the deep crows feet around his eyes as he grins, his dark rich eyes sparking as he beams with happiness, love, and lust. His smile turns into something that of the devils as he begins to caress your body.
He lifts up your arms and takes off your tank top, throwing it on the ground somewhere. Before his lips lock onto your pebbled nipples. Groaning as he squeezes and plays with the other one, before switching his mouth over. After leaving your tits a glistening, saliva-covered mess he descends further down your body, his kiss-bruised lips planting themselves on every single inch of skin he can see. 
“Mm need to fffffuck you sweetttt thing, and ffffeel that heavenly p-pussy wwwrapped around me againnn.” He mumbles, his lips smushed against your stomach. You softly laugh and nod your head. Getting the gist of what he was saying and knowing him well enough to know what he said that you didn't catch.
“Please Dieter. Please fuck me. Need… to feel you. Missed you…. and your cock…. so fucken much.” You garble out in your own form of a coherent sentence.
Dieter can’t help but whimper listening to you, his cock pulses with need for release as he listens to your confession (although mumbled) of need for him.
He can’t wait any longer.
He reaches under your ass and lifts you up and shifts you so you're lying on your back longways on the couch. He quickly shucks his shirt off, getting a little stuck in the process as he does so. You both giggle and laugh as your hands go up to help him. He soon pulls it off and makes quick work off, shoving his pants and boxers off his legs.
Both of your eyes are shining with something so deep and emotional as you admire each other's naked bodies. A sight seen countless times between the two of you but one that neither would ever grow sick of. You reach up and stroke your hands up and down Dieter's front, feeling his strong chest and plush belly that you love very, very much. He whimpers as your hands trail down into the coarse hair at the base of his leaking cock. 
Even as he towers over your relaxed form, there is an air of submission to him still. The way his eyes are glazed over with no other drug than love, pupils blown wider than when he was higher than a kite on LSD. His eyes brows slightly furrowed in, his chest moving fast as he pants. His bottom lip trembling with anticipation of connecting your bodies together so intimately once again how they should be. How they would always be if Dieter got a chance. 
He shakes himself out of his love trance and lowers himself over you, his forearms resting on the couch beside your head. You close your eyes and kiss him deeply, giving him a piece of you that no one but him gets to have. Literally and spiritually. He groans almost pathetically when you reach your hand down and swipe his tip through your once again dripping folds. 
Your squinting and red eyes look up at him pleadingly, just begging to put the both of you out of the agonising wait and finally feel each other. He smiles a soft smile before he lines himself up and slowly pushes into your pulsing cunt. 
“Ohhhh….ohhh…oh…yeah, honey.” He moans out as he slowly bottoms out in your cunt. You gasp as you adjust to his considerably large girth. Something you truly will never fully get used to. Your hands clutch as his biceps, grounding yourself as your fluttering pussy adjusts to him.
“God….fucken hell, baby. You feel somehow even better than I remember. Jesus christ.” He pants, his face screwing up from the pleasure just simply inside your beautiful heat gives him. He desperately tries to think of anything else other than your stunning form below him and just made for him cunt, feeling already so close to blowing his load.
He reaches down and pinches his base and quickly begins Jack hammering into you fast and hard, to hopefully get you off before he ultimately finishes way quicker than he intended to.
“Oh f-f-fuck, Dieter!” You cry out, eyes squeezing tight at the immediate hard and fast pace Dieter has set while fucking you.
“Im s-sorry b-baby. Fuckkk. You just feel too damn good. I just n-n-need. Ahhh. Need you come before I-I-I do.” He stutters. 
Your heart and cunt clenches around, eyes rolling back from the pure ecstasy coursing through your as Dieter repeatedly stuffs his fat tip into the squishy part deep inside you.
“OoOoh shit, baby. Can feel you clenching real good around me, god damn!”  He groans.
You lay there bonelessly, whimpering as Dieter’s fingers circle you clit just right. Sending you over the edge into the deep depths of mind-numbing pleasure. Your body shakes as your orgasm comes crashing down and over you, with Dieter only seconds after.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh oh oh shit,” He wails out with every rope of cum that spurts out of him, his hips almost unconsciously thrusting themselves as deep as they can go every time, only stopping on the last rope of cum, burying his now spent cock deep into your pussy. He lets his full weight drop on top of you as he catches his breath from his own high. 
You breathe out with a soft smile, feeling such bliss and warmth from Dieter being here with you. He moves his head from your neck and looks at you. You both smile wide and break in hearty chuckles, before kissing each other.
You relish in the feeling of Dieter’s chest booming with laughter pressed up against yours, feeling his beating heart beat under you hand, showing that he is here with you now and just Dieter in general, his body fitting on top of your like a puzzle, like two pieces that you never would’ve known hadn't always been connected together like this. 
And that’s exactly how you fall asleep, entwined in each others arms, connected in all ways possible, smiling to yourself as you listen to Dieter’s soft snores and you feel his heart beating strongly against yours, before you two let the sweet blissful temptations of sleep take you too. Everything was going to be okay now that your love was back with you. 
*********
104 notes · View notes
risriswrites · 1 year
Text
Booze, Burgers, and Bartenders
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summary: short love story involving rooster and penny's favorite bartender.
pairing: bradley bradshaw x fem reader
warnings: none really, just some mild language and minor angst (if you can even call it that)
author's note: wow!! thank you guys so much for all of the love on my second fic "just roommates". i don't have a lot to say about it because honestly i'm speechless! with that being said, this fic has been in the works for months now and i'm exhausted with it. i wanted to write this and get it out back in may but everything with college really held me back and then from there i've just been enjoying summer and have been putting it off. so i apologize for the wait, but i hope y'all enjoy it!! likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated :)
word count: 5.7k
“Penny! Where are the extra bottles of Budweiser?” you call out, body crouched just below the countertop of the bar in an effort to find a hidden Budweiser bottle behind all the Corona’s.
Somewhere in the bar, Penny shouts back to you, a muffled, “Just got a new shipment order in this morning! Check in the backroom, they’re probably still in their packaging!” reaches your ears.
Huffing, you force yourself back to a standing position, leaning your weight against the bar for a few seconds before pushing off and heading towards the backroom.
Flickering the light switch on once the door is fully open, you begin the tedious search for the famous beer the patrons preferred to order at Penny’s bar. Sighing to yourself, you grab a stool just in case the box was placed on one of the top shelves. Jaxson had a habit of doing that, he knew both yourself and Penny preferred the heavier boxes on the bottom shelves, but he somehow always managed to “forget” that important factor.
Crouching low you start with the bottom shelves before moving upwards. Luckily, Jaxson put the newest box of Budweiser’s one shelf above the middle. Lifting the box into your arms, you steady yourself before moving back out of the room and towards the bar.
Maneuvering around the tables and chairs scattered throughout the bar was easier said than done. It wasn’t until you were able to push the box onto the countertop that you could take a breath, leaning your body weight onto the bar again with a huff. Flicking your hair over your shoulder, you notice Penny coming into your field of vision, a sly grin on her face.
“Jaxson leave the box on the top shelf again?” she questions, quirking a curious brow in the process.
Pinning her with a joking glare you smile, “Not this time, but it’s still heavy.”
“Hey, I’ve been doing it for ten years, trust me hon, it doesn’t get much easier” she chuckles.
Throwing your head back with a groan, you grip the edges of the bar, leaning back on your heels, “I’m sure I’ll get used to it soon,” straightening back up on your two feet, you turn to face Penny again, fixing her with your stare and point in her direction, “but, if Jaxson continues to put new, heavy, boxes on the top shelf, I can’t guarantee he’ll be around forever.”
Penny lets out a snort and nods her head in understanding, “I’m right there with you, but until then,” she gets up from her seat at the bar and pats the box of beer twice, “let’s get these in the fridge.”
With a forced laugh and a mock salute, you let out a “You got it Pen,” and resume struggling against the bottles of booze.
~
Nights at the Hard Deck fluctuated. Weekdays were a little slow, apart from Friday nights, with Saturdays being the busiest. Not that you’re complaining since that’s when you receive the most tips. And having the local aviators around as eye candy wasn’t so bad, plus, they’re generous tippers.
Tonight though, there had been an abundance of new faces floating around the bar. Mainly naval aviators, not to your surprise, but the sheer amount that had been crowding the bar was just a tad overwhelming.
Even Jaxson was flustered, his eyes flitting back and forth from you to Penny in search of some assistance. Unfortunately for everyone, you each were too busy struggling with keeping up with your own sides of the bar, and just when you thought you had a second to breathe, another patron would waltz up to your side and ask for a drink.
Glancing over towards Penny, you notice her interacting with a brunette clad in a leather jacket, an easygoing smile accompanying the glint in his eyes as he spoke with her. Smirking to yourself, you keep this interaction in mind and turn back to the guy in front of you, grabbing a bucket, loading it with ice and the six coronas he ordered, popping the tab off one before handing it to him with a smile, “Here ya go.”
The blond shoots you a smile, and pats a hand on the bar, shouting a “thanks” back in your direction. Moving around your section, you plucked empty bottles off the bar top and disposed of them in the large trash bin under the bar. And just as you were about to grab a clean washrag to tend to simpler tasks than dealing with the local riff raffs of the bar, another patron squeezes their way up to your side of the bar.
Flicking your gaze over to the guy you shoot him a small smile, “I’ll be with you in a second.” Snatching the wash rag, you tuck it into your jean shorts and take two strides back to the bar, leaning your forearms on the top, you shoot the mystery man a small smile, and pose the million-dollar question, “What can I get ya?”
After mixing the jack and coke your customer requested, you accept the twenty and continue working around the bar, popping bottle-tops off Corona’s, Heineken’s, and the bar favorite, Budweiser. All while simultaneously wiping any spills off the countertop.
A few hours later, the Hard Deck is looking less and less crowded, with all the civilians having cleared out. Which allows for you to sidle over to Penny and pester her for the next two hours before closing, sipping on your Coca-Cola in the meantime.
“Haven’t seen you all night, how’d it go?” Penny questions, permanent smile on her face and a light in her eyes you haven’t seen in a while.
Quirking your head to the side, you raise your eyebrows, “Clearly not as eventful as yours,” you smirk. Wiggling your eyebrows you throw out a second question, “Who’s got you all hot and bothered?”
Penny giggles at your playfulness, swatting at you with her dishrag, “No one special.”
“Now that, is a lie if I’ve ever heard one.” you point at her with the pinky finger that had been resting around the bright red can you’ve been holding.
Bringing the can back up to your lips, you smile, “Wouldn’t have anything to do with that brunette with the brown leather jacket decorated in naval patches, would it?”
This earns you another swat from the dishrag.
Leaning away from her, your smirk grows wider, “I’m taking that as a yes.”
Penny playfully glares at you for the second time today, and peers around you, nodding her head in the direction of your side of the bar, “You’ve got another one.”
Giggling to yourself you turn your head in the direction Penny motioned to, the sight before you halting your giggling almost instantaneously.
Bradley Bradshaw.
Cussing under your breath, you take the last sip of your coke and turn to make your way towards him, receiving a swat from Penny’s dishrag in the process.
“Bradshaw.”
The man of the hour turns in his seat towards you, honey brown eyes gazing into yours for a brief moment before one side of his mouth quirks up into a half smile, “Hey.”
“What made the navy drag your ass back here for?” you ask, snorting at his attempt at remaining casual, folding your arms over each other, jutting your hip out in a stance that you hope comes across as vaguely threatening.
Bradley taps his thumb on the bar top and shoots you an award-winning smile, “I’m not really sure about that yet, sweets” he states, his voice coming out in a low rasp, while his eyes wander behind you towards the bottles of liquor.
Rolling your eyes at the nickname, you open your mouth to shoot him a smart-ass retort, but instead, choose to close it and offer up the same line you use on everyone else, “What can I get you to drink?”
Bradley refocuses his eyes back onto yours, lips forming into a frown at your lack of retaliation, “Bottle of Budweiser if you have any would be great.”
Moving on autopilot, you bend down and sort through the fridge for another Budweiser, gripping the bottle and popping the top off, before sliding it forward towards the tall hunk of muscle in front of you, “You opening up a tab?”
Bradley looks over towards the pool tables where his friends were gathered around, no doubt betting on who was going to have to pay for the next round of beers. Turning his attention back to you, he stands from his seat, pulling his wallet out from his back jean pocket and holds his card out to you, “If you don’t mind, that’d be great sweets” sending you a small smile in the process.
Plucking the card from his grasp, you send a sarcastic smile his way before turning to the computer to input his information.
Bradley lets his gaze linger on you for a moment, then sets off back to his friends.
Hangman is the first to comment on Bradley’s singular beer and the sour look on his face, earning him a rough shove from Phoenix.
Nat turns to face Bradley, offering a sympathetic look, “Didn’t go well I take it?” she mumbles.
Hangman snorts and gestures with his beer towards the bar where you’re currently standing with Penny, “Judging by the way she’s standing,” sucking a breath through his teeth, “I’d say it went swimmingly.”
Jake goes to sip his beer with a smirk on his lips, satisfied with his dig, until Natasha forcefully bumps his elbow, forcing his beer to miss his mouth and instead spill down his shirt. Glancing towards her, scowl present on his face, Nat flutters her eyelashes and pouts, “Oops.”
Bradley covers his laugh with a sip of his beer, looking towards the dart board as a distraction.
“Maybe you should go get cleaned up.” Phoenix smiles, her words sickeningly sweet and not up for debate.
Grumbling to himself, Jake gets up from his seat and makes his way towards the bathroom of the Hard Deck. Once he’s out of sight, Nat fixes her gaze on Bradley, “Alright, tell me what’s going on.”
A huff slips past Bradley’s lips and he slumps into the seat adjacent to Phoenix, “That’s the thing Nat, it’s not really going anywhere.”
Nursing her own beer, Nat plays with the perspiration sliding down the bottle, “It’s probably gonna take some time Bradley. You can’t just show up after not talking to her for a year,” sparing you a brief glance she watches the way you smile and pop a cap off the bottle for a customer you’d been serving for the better half of the night, “stuff like that actually bothers a girl yaknow” emphasizing her words with a pointed look.
Bradley taps his thumb against the tabletop, a low groan leaving his throat, “I know Nat, I just didn’t know how to tell her I was being deployed for six months and then dealing with the Uranium mission on top of that,” he pauses briefly to sip on his beer, “It’s not fair to her.”
Natasha nods briefly, understanding where he’s coming from, “I get that, but that’s not your decision to make.” Pointing at him with her bottle briefly, she maneuvers it to gesture towards you, “She’s a big girl, she can make her own decisions.”
Bradley nods his head in understanding, moving his gaze to survey the room briefly, a red blush painting his cheeks and the tips of his ears.
Sensing how flustered he was Nat slaps the table and shoots him a sympathetic smile, “I’m going to get us a few more beers from our favorite girl. When I get back, you’re going to be done with all that sulking and were going to kick Coyote and Hangman’s asses in eight ball.”
An, “In your dreams hot shot,” settling over both Natasha’s and Bradley’s ears, the pair rolling their eyes simultaneously at the overconfident voice of Jake Seresin.
~
“Ready to start cleaning up? It’s twenty minutes before we close.” Penny asks, the clinking of glass bottles ringing in your ears when she tosses them into the trash.
Peeking at her from over your shoulder you send an exhausted smile her way, “Definitely, tonight’s rush took a lot out of me.”
Biting her lower lip, Penny begins wiping down the counter, “That the only thing that took a lot out of you tonight? Or did a certain tall, mustached naval aviator have something to do with it?”
She doesn’t look over at you when you whip your head to glare at her, instead choosing to continue to innocently wipe at the sticky bar top.
“Don’t start.”
Moving away from her, you begin to collect the remaining empties and toss them in the trash.
Ignoring her for another ten minutes, you busy yourself by sweeping up around the front of the building, avoiding Bradley and his lingering group of friends.
Maneuvering back to the bar, you grab the remaining glasses and bring them to the dishwasher in the backroom. Once you’ve loaded it up, you put in the dishwasher detergent and start it on a regular cycle, heading back out to the bar to help Penny finish up.
Gripping the rag in your hand you begin wiping down any places Penny may have missed, hyper fixating on the task at hand to avoid looking over at the man who ghosted you a year ago.
Penny eases herself into the space you were occupying, placing a hand on your shoulder in an attempt at gaining your attention. Looking up to the ceiling you breathe out, turning your head to give her your full attention. An apologetic smile is what meets you and you instantly feel your resolve soften.
“I’m only going to say this once, and from now on I won’t mention it.” Nodding her head in Bradley’s direction she continued, “He’s a good guy Hon, but unfortunately, he’s still a guy. And guys make stupid mistakes. Trust me,” an eye roll from her ensuing shortly after.
“I’m not telling you that you need to forgive him, but maybe hear him out?” she coaxes.
Looking over towards him, you watch as his drunken form laughs with his friends, “I’ll think about it Pen.”
“Okay honey,” leaning away from you she squeezes your shoulder, “Oh and I’ve gotta go pick up Amelia, soo could you close up?” she pleads.
Throwing your head up, you laugh, “Oh I see, just trying to butter me up so you can sneak out to go be with that Naval officer.”
Penny bites her lip at the thought and begins heading for the door, “Not yet, but maybe eventually,” she vocalizes, shooting you a wink in the process. “Alright guys and gals, time to go!” she calls out to the last group lingering at the back of the bar.
The blond calls back to her, “You got it Pen!”
Giggling to yourself, you finish up a few more tasks as the remaining aviators file out. Going to the storage room to grab some beers to restock the fridges for the following day, it’s always easier on you guys the next day if you restock the night before.
Heading back out to the bar you notice the handsome aviator you’ve been avoiding all night, sitting right where he had been earlier that night.
“Heyyy” Bradley smiles, clearly drunk judging by the flush that’s blossomed over his cheeks, neck, and ears.
Chuckling to yourself, you let an amused smile crawl across your face, “To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you again?”
Bradley hiccups and leans his head on the bar top, “I need to,” another hiccup interrupts him before he continues, “close out my tab” he rasps.
Nodding to yourself, you go over to the computer and close out his tab, printing his receipt and wrapping it around his card, you turn back to him and place the card on the bar top, sliding it towards his drunken form.
Bradley looks you over and smiles, “You’re really pretty.”
Choosing not to laugh at his words you fold your arms over each other and smile at him, “How are you getting home, Bradley?”
He hums, still looking you over in a daze, “I drove.”
Shifting a little in his seat, he uses one arm to reach into his back pocket, presenting you with the keys to his infamous blue bronco, jingling them in front of you with a goofy smile on his face.
Leaning towards him you grip your hand around his, easing the keys from his hand into yours. His eyes watching your hand as it encloses around his.
“I’ll be taking those big boy.”
Bradley groans, reaching his arms out towards you as you lean away from him, “Nooo, come back, I need those.” he whines out.
Shaking your head you muffle a chuckle at his drunkenness, “Bradshaw you can’t drive yourself home,” nibbling on your lower lip you spit the words out before you can take them back, “Come on, I’ll take you home.”
Bradley shoots his head up at your statement, “You’re taking me, where?” he questions.
Rounding the bar, you grab your purse in the process heading towards Bradley, “I am going to take you home.”
“How do you know where I live?” he asks, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Cute.
Smirking at him, you quirk your own eyebrow, “I’m a witch.”
Bradley points at you lazily and whispers, “If you’re a witch, then tell me what I’m thinking about right now.” Promptly closing his eyes afterwards.
Looking up, you shake your head, smile growing wider on your face, “Burgers” you declare confidently, crossing your arms in the process. As if this motherfucker didn’t spend every waking minute with you for a year.
His eyes instantly open, mouth dropping in amazement, an emphasized “Yes” leaving his lips.
Offering your hand to him, you give him a small nod, “We can get some on the way home if you want?”
Bradley eyes you skeptically, “You promise?”
Smiling, you fold your fingers in, leaving your pinky out for him, “I promise.”
Slowly, Bradley wraps his own pinky around yours, giving it a firm squeeze.
“Alright, let’s get going. Joey’s Burgers sounds amazing right now.” Giving his hand a squeeze, you lead the way out of the bar, Bradley stumbling behind you, mumbling about some triple patty burger that they recently added to the menu.
Once the two of you managed to make it out the front door, you turned back to lock up, Bradley leaning his head on your shoulder as you did, making it a little more difficult to maneuver around in the process.
“Okay tiger, lets get you in the car.”
Leaning his weight on you some more, he scrunches up his face in confusion, “I’m not tiger, I’m rooster.”
Lugging his weight across the graveled parking lot and towards the bronco, you snicker at his words, “I know Bradley, it’s just a nickname.”  Earning a low groan from Bradley in response.
Once you’ve made it to the bronco, you focus on getting Bradley’s passenger door open, all while he leans more and more of his weight on you, at this rate the navy should just hire you if you can lug a full-grown man around a dark gravel parking lot.
After you’ve managed to get the door open, you coax Bradley into the passenger seat with the promise of burgers and a movie once you got him home. Rounding the car after ensuring he’s buckled himself in and jumping into the driver's seat.
Looking over towards him, you note the way he’s leaned his head against the window, arms folded over each other, in what you could only guess is an attempt at staying warm. Mindful of his potentially cold state, you don’t bother with turning the air conditioning on, and keep the volume of the radio low, trying to allow Bradley to relax as much as possible. He’s lucky he’s cute when he’s drunk.
Pulling out of the parking lot of the Hard Deck, you make your way down the street to Joey’s Burgers, ordering two large fries, two medium soda’s, one triple patty burger for Bradley, and one regular cheeseburger (with only ketchup) for yourself. Then continuing your mission of getting Bradley back home for the night before he’s sobered enough to realize he’d not only let you drive him home, but also from the driver’s seat of his beloved bronco.
~
Parking Bradley’s bronco wasn’t an issue, however, getting Bradley to move out of his passenger seat was.
Pleadingly, you rushed out a whispered, “Bradley, please get out of the car, you can’t stay in there all night.”
Receiving only an annoyed grumble in response, you tried again in the form of bribery, “I got you your favorite burger from Joey’s, if you get out of the car you can eat it while we watch a movie.”
This gets his attention and before you know it, you’re lugging Bradley out of his seat and across the parking lot. Somehow, he’s gotten heavier in the past twenty minutes of your drive. Mumbling to no one in particular, you let out a low, “He’s got a lot of groveling to do after this.” Huffing out a breath, you manage to pull him up the steps of the cozy one-story house, forcing Bradley to lean against the wall while you unlock the door.
Once you’ve managed to get the door open, you pull the brunette aviator over the threshold and towards the couch, kicking the door closed once you’ve made it inside.
The grey couch that had been centered towards the edge of the living room absorbs a drunk Bradley Bradshaw into its cushions, earning a content hum from him in response.
Throwing yourself down next to him, an audible sigh slips past your lips, leaning your head against the cushions in an attempt at seeking a moment of comfort before you inevitably must help Bradley into bed.
Lolling his head to the side Bradley fixes his gaze on you, eyes trailing across the expanse of your face, when the question, “What happened to my burger?” comes tumbling out of his mouth.
A sharp laugh is what Bradley gets in response, along with a, “I swear you become more and more like a dog as the night goes on.” Bradley is too drunk to understand what that’s supposed to mean, so instead, he widens his eyes and tilts his head a little, a silent question in regard to the aforementioned burger.
Yep, definitely dog like.
Swiping the bag of burgers and fries from the table, you pull Bradley’s special burger; along with a few napkins, out and hand them over to the man of the hour, who immediately starts to gobble it down like he hasn’t eaten in days.
While the man who resembles a golden retriever consumes his food next to you, you start the venture of looking for a movie you wouldn’t mind focusing your attention on until Bradley falls asleep, settling on “How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days”.
Settling into the couch again, you curl your legs up underneath you and proceed to snack on the fries you’d gotten.
Everything was calm, for a total of thirty seconds.
Your peace being ruined by an overgrown buffoon looming over you to steal one of your fries from its container.
“You know, I got you your own fries,” you snicker, side-eyeing the Topgun graduate who has resorted to looking like a kicked puppy from your scolding.
“Yours tastes better.”
Snorting at the remark, you shake your head in exasperation, “Finish your food and if you’re still hungry, you can have some of mine.”
Seemingly pleased with the compromise, Bradley gets comfortable on the couch once more, and continues with consuming the fried potato.
After some time has passed, Bradley satisfied with his food and no longer pestering you for yours, you make an attempt to clean up. Which is instantly foiled by a tipsy Bradley Bradshaw, “Why do you hate me?”
“I don’t hate you Bradley,” you wave him off, continuing your advances towards the kitchen.
Bradley forces himself off of the couch, stumbling after your composed form, “Sure seemed like it earlier.”
Tossing the leftover food in the trash, you grab a paper towel and the spray bottle of cleaner he always left under the sink, “And I don’t recall you being particularly sober within the past two hours.”
A small smirk graces Bradley’s lips while he leans his body weight against the doorframe of the kitchen arms folded over each other, “I had a triple patty burger from Joey’s an hour ago.”
Rolling your eyes at his retort, you push past him to get back to his living room, “You’re welcome then.”
Like a piece of gum on the bottom of your shoe, Bradley follows after you, “You don’t have to clean.”
Better than having to look at him while he’s sober and engage in this conversation.
Pulling your eyebrows together, you force yourself to concentrate on the coffee table littered with grease stains from the bag and a few misplaced French fries, completely ignoring Bradley’s piercing gaze.
Hearing him sigh, your gaze breaks from the table and flits to where he’s standing. Looks more like leaning to you since he’s clearly still feeling some of the effects of the alcohol. As your eyes roam over his figure, you take in his posture, his arms, and lastly his eyes, which are locked on yours and the way you’re examining him.
Looking up to the ceiling, you huff, bending to your full height. Abandoning the damp paper towel on the semi-clean coffee table before you address him.
“I don’t hate you.”
Bradley’s eyebrows lift, one side of his mouth quirking up in a half-hearted smirk, mustache following suit, “So you’ve said.”
Your eyebrows crease while your eyes pinch, fixing him with a glaring look, “But I don’t appreciate being led on for months either,” your tone heavy in the way you spoke to him.
Bradley visibly winces at the jab, “I know, not my proudest moment.”
Crossing your arms over each other, you jut your hip out, “Why’d you do it then?”  
Bradley crosses the room slowly, moving closer to your defensive stance with a slowness that resembled someone afraid of spooking a baby deer, “I didn’t want you to get caught up in all my shit.”
“One mission for six months is bad enough,” he pauses, “Another mission with no guarantee of survival a month after the last isn’t something I wanted to put you through.”
Your frown that you’d adorned for majority of this conversation, deepens, “That’s not something you get to decide, Bradley.”
A forced chuckle slips past your lips, “I’m a big girl, I’ve been able to make my own decisions for myself, for years. I don’t need you and your hero complex thinking you can make those decisions for me.”
Your eyes roam his face scowl still prominent. Finally uncrossing your arms, you poke a finger into his chest, “You should be able to trust me enough to tell me those things, and allow me to decide if it’s too much,” you pause taking a step back, hand retreating back to your side, “or if I care about you enough to stick around.”
Bradley tenderly reaches for the hand you’d forced back to your side, threading his fingers through yours, “I know, trust me I do. I just thought I’d be protecting you,” he breathes out, using his hand to bring you closer to him.
Your hardened gaze softens at his words, he thought he could protect you from himself, from heartache.
Settling your other hand on his chest, you tilt your chin up, the height difference between the two of you showing in the close distance you’re in.
“Like I said before,” you whisper, “That kind of decision I can make on my own.”
Bradley’s eyes are half-lidded as he looks at you, processing your words and what to do next with them.
Silence falls over the two of you, the only noise emanating from the tv next to you.
Breaking his gaze, you look behind him to see the clock hanging from the wall that’s surrounded by framed pictures of his parents along with a few pictures of himself with some of his squadron, taking note of the time.
Glancing back to him, you mumble, “You should probably go to bed.”
Bradley huffs at your suggestion but makes no move to argue.
Instead, he grips your other hand in his and pulls you closer, tilting his head to the side, “Tuck me in?”
Laughing to yourself at his suggestion, you give him a small nod, taking the lead down the hall to his bedroom, “Sure, do you want some warm milk while were at it?” you tease.
Bradley hums from behind you, “Now that you mention it,” he trails off, biting his lower lip to contain his laughter.
“Keep dreaming aviator,” you chortle.
“Oh I intend to,” is the retort you get in return.
Turning into his bedroom you push him towards his closet and gesture for him to change, turning your back to him in an attempt to avoid being distracted by his charm and physique, reacquainting yourself with his bedroom instead.
Not much has changed apart from the bedding which had gone from a pale blue to a darker green.
A raspy, “I’m decent,” makes its way to your ears and you turn to look for the source. Intaking a sharp breath at the sight of Bradley Bradshaw in a plain white t-shirt, and boxers, eyes roaming the expanse of his body before deciding you’ve ogled him too much.
Moving your eyes away from his lower half, you make your way to the closet in search of your own shirt and boxer combo, cause if you’re staying there’s no way you’re staying in your “The Hard Deck” tank top and jean shorts.
Wordlessly, Bradley sidles up behind you and reaches for his old training tee from his first days at Topgun, handing you the shirt and a pair of gray boxers to match.
Mumbling a soft “Thanks”, you make sure he turns all the way around before stripping down to put the new garments on.
Once comfortable, you glance to the opposite side of the bed Bradley’s in, fiddling with your fingers as you fight yourself on whether or not you can trust yourself with him again.
Screw it.
Acting before fully thinking through your decision, you climb into bed beside him, hiding under the covers for some warmth, and maybe from Bradley.
It’s Bradley’s warm hands that bring you out of your thoughts, hooked around your waist and pulling you to him, “You’re thinking too loud,” he mumbles, one leg slotting between yours.
Reaching up with your right hand, you glide your fingers through his locks, earning a sigh of content from him, “I just don’t want to get hurt again,” you confess, tugging your lower lip between your teeth.
The confession has Bradley propping himself up onto his elbow, his free hand finding your own, putting it square against his, measuring the sizes of your individual palms, slotting his fingers between your own once he’s satisfied.
“I can’t promise that being with me will never hurt,” he states, swallowing the lump in his throat.
Sighing, he continues, “I don’t know if something will happen to me when I’m in the air.”
You nod solemnly at his confession, running everything over in your head, the pros and cons of being with him, loving him. What that might do to you.
Bradley tilts his head toward yours, catching your eyes once more, “But,” he pauses, “I can promise that I’ll never voluntarily hurt you again, and I will do everything in my power to come home to you.” He finishes, voice shaky and his eyes displaying a vulnerability you’ve never seen before.
Scanning his honey-colored irises, you search for any doubt he may have hidden, finding none, a soft smile graces your lips.
Leaning forward, you nudge your forehead against his, eyes fluttering closed at the contact, “Okay” you whisper.
Opening your eyes to scan his face, trailing along the faint freckles that litter his cheeks, your smile widens, “but this is your last shot Bradshaw, don’t ruin it,” you tease.
Bradley grins back at you before closing the gap between the two of you, slotting his lips against yours in a kiss that had been a long time coming; by at least a year.
His tongue traces the bottom of your lip and without much coaxing, you open your mouth enough for him to slip his tongue in, maneuvering his body over yours for easier access. Bradley slides his hands down your frame to trace circles into your hip, while the other braces himself next to you.
Breaking the kiss, Bradley maneuvers his lips down towards your exposed neck, trailing open mouthed kisses lower each time before coming back to your lips, catching them with his over and over until the two of you have settled into a relaxed state, lazy open-mouthed kisses replacing the urgent ones you were enacting before.
Gently reaching your hand up, you slot your fingers into Bradley’s tousled locks, tugging ever so slightly, earning a low groan from him in response.
Smiling to yourself, you slot your lips against his one last time before leaning back, appraising him with a gentle smile adorning your lips, “I thought we agreed on sleep?”
Chuckling, Bradley moves a stray hair out of your face, “Sweets, will you please put me out of my misery and go on a date with me?”
Clicking your tongue, you drag him down closer to you, snuggling into his chest as you make yourself comfortable.
 “Mmm, dating the bartender, huh? Hope it’s for more than free drinks,” you quiz, trailing a hand down to his abs, tracing each one with your fingers.
A tender kiss is placed to the crown of your head, while one large hand sneaks under the back of your shirt, tracing small circles across your skin, “Definitely.”
Humming, you close your eyes, content with the warmth emanating from Bradley and his tender touches, “That’s nice.”
Bradley chuckles at your drowsy state, “So is that a yes?”
He receives a chaste kiss that’s pressed to his shirt, right where his heart is as you mumble out, “It’s a yes Bradshaw.”  
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