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#hibiscus kisses fic
jadedxhearts · 2 months
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𝐁𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐢
You wear a new bikini with the intention of teasing Law with it. Only, your plan backfires on you.
Warnings: nsft, afab reader (no pronouns but Law does say “my girl”)
Originally posted on April 21st, 2023
repost from my main @jadedrrose as a part of my most popular fics event.
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You’d practically doomed yourself from the very start of your evening out. 
The crew was having a night out at some island, and truthfully you’d completely forgotten the reason why. It wasn’t anyone’s birthday, and there weren’t any holidays that you could think of. But, nevertheless you were excited for the excuse to dress up. 
It was very hot and humid on the island you’d be spending your evening at; and even with the sun fading away, the heat just never left the air. You also knew it was a beach town, meaning just about everything was on the front of the island, bars and such all incredibly close to the water, some even built on the water. So, with this knowledge combined you decided on an outfit that would work best. 
The base of it was a bikini. It was vibrant, your favorite color in a bright shade with a hibiscus floral pattern in white, littered across both the top and bottoms. It was also rather flimsy and small. The top was a basic triangle cup bikini shape that was held together by two string ties; one behind your neck and the other in your mid back area. The bottoms were similar, only the strings were more high-waisted and tied in little bows at your hips. The set was skimpy and daring, hardly hiding anything from wandering eyes. But it was an easy fix. You grabbed a pair of denim shorts and pulled them over the bikini, only leaving out the strings as the bows would get in the way. So while your ass was covered now, one could only imagine how the outfit looked underneath…
You slipped on a thin floral print open front shirt to cover up a bit more, then grabbed your favorite pair of sandals and sunglasses to complete the look. You reviewed the look over in your mirror, before deciding everything was set in place and you were ready to go.
When you emerged from the stairs of the submarine, it became evident that you were the last one to be ready. Some of the crew had stayed back to wait on you, but most had already departed for the island. 
Law stood at the front of the group, wearing white shorts and similarly to you, an open front shirt with a pattern on it. He looked at you suspiciously, raising an eyebrow and scanning the outfit you wore. He only let out a light huff and didn’t say a word, though. Once you reached his side, he seemed flustered as he slipped your hand into his and muttered, “took ya long enough…”
You looked up to gaze at his face, playfully smiling. There was a hint of blush dusted across his cheeks. But, you decided not to embarrass him over it. “I wanted to look cute… for you,” you replied to him, leaning up to place a little kiss on his flushed cheek. 
In the time that you’d spent pretty much partying in the beach town, you’d abandoned the shirt due to the heat. And now, since you were on the beach, you figured it would be fine to remove your shorts. Everyone else was in their swimwear, after all. It’s not like you’d stand out too much.
So you stood up from your seat in Law’s lap, stretching out your limbs before unbuttoning the shorts and moving your hands to slip them down your frame. 
You’d only gotten them slipped just under your bottom when you were suddenly stopped. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” 
Letting your hands and shorts freeze in the position they were in before you’d been stopped, you turned your head back to look at Law.
“Taking off my shorts so I can get in the water?” 
It was only then you noticed you’d barely stepped a foot away from Law, so you were pretty much directly on display for him. 
“Y/n… don’t you know what your bikini looks like?” 
“Yeah, why?” You asked, trying to play along with him; pretending to be oblivious.
“I can see all of your ass, you’re practically wearing a thong.” He remarked, arms crossed as he frowned.
“Do you like it?” You teasingly asked, smirking down at him. 
“Wh-? Yeah… but, I don’t want some creep looking at my girl’s ass.” He pouted, the same blush from earlier dusting across his face.
You giggled, deciding to let the shorts fall to the sand beneath your feet. “Fine then. You can come with me and cover my ass.”
“I can’t get in ocean water, y/n.”
Rolling your eyes, you decided to just return to his lap, only this time facing him. “Fine, fine. Honestly I just wore it to tease you… I didn’t really plan on letting anyone else see it anyway.”
“Then why did you-“
“To tease you,” you repeated, wrapping your arms around his neck and shimmying further into his lap. 
Law sighed, placing one of his tattooed hands on your lower back. “And did you plan on paying for it, too?”
“Huh?” 
“Don’t think you can just tease me and get away with no punishment,” he muttered into your ear, placing a small kiss on the skin of your neck. 
Feeling more daring, you decided to just dig your own grave now. With a sultry grin, you moved to kiss Law, removing one arm from his neck and placing your hand against his face, holding him as your lips connected.
Law seemed to tense up, probably because of the rather intimate display of affection you two were showing in public, but he moved his free hand to grab your bare thigh, squeezing the soft skin in his grasp. 
He briefly pulled away, but only far away enough to get some air. His breath came out hot as he panted against your wet lips, your mixed saliva still connecting you both together. 
Just before Law could kiss you again, you subtly began to rock your hips, grinding your lower region against him. A breathy grunt escaped Law’s lips, his body tensing up even more as he hardened his grip on your back and thigh. 
“Shit… you’re just asking for it now, hm?” 
You decided then to reconnect your lips, giving hot, wet opened mouth kisses against his own lips. You pushed your hips down harder, whining at the friction of your just barely covered cunt against his hardening length. 
Though your reply was late, you did so anyway, “mhm… please take me back home… punish me for being a whore, Law.”
Not wasting anymore time, Law practically shoved you off of him and slid your shorts back up, tossing your sandals and shirt at you before grabbing the towel you’d been laying on and taking your hand to lead you back to the sub.
As soon as you were back in your bedroom with the door locked behind you, Law jumped at you, grabbing your body and biting at the tender skin of your neck, sucking it between his teeth to mark you.
You let out a high-pitched cry, tilting your head back to give him more access. His lips were still wet, and as he dragged them across your skin, your neck became slick with his spit. The sensations felt so intoxicating; the slight pain of his bite before the feeling of his lips sucking you in, the hair of his goatee pleasantly scratching your skin.
“Law,” you quietly whined, legs shaking with need as you tried squeezing your thighs together, desperate to be touched. But his lips didn’t leave your throat.
“Law, please,” you pleaded, fisting his shirt into your palms. “I need you so bad…”
Finally, his attack on your neck ended and you watched with hazy eyes as Law looked down at your needy body with lust evident in his eyes, along with a mischievous look that meant you were really in for it this time.
Just before you could open your mouth to beg for him again, Law pushed you down onto the bed, grabbing at the fabric of the bikini top between your breasts, ripping the entire thing off of you. 
He quickly tossed the garment away, wasting no time to put his tattooed hands on your chest, groping and massaging the plushy mounds. Another whine left your lips as his palms brushed against your nipples, and you leaned your back up into his touch.
“God, you’re so needy,” Law shook his head, removing his hands and watching with amusement as you cried from the loss of his touch. 
Then he was grabbing your waist, fingers digging into your skin as he harshly flipped you over to lay on your tummy, one hand landing on your ass to hold you in place as the other delivered a teasing smack to your skin that poked out from underneath your ridden up shorts, which were removed from your body only a moment later.
Law didn’t even try to be gentle as he forced the denim off of you, throwing it away to free his hands. His palms were on your skin again, squeezing the fat of your bottom as he looked over what was left of your bikini.
The bottoms didn’t cover your ass at all, so when he spanked you again, the contact was directly on your skin this time with a loud slap. 
“You bought this thing knowing it’d piss me off, didn’t you?”
You tried shrugging but that was difficult with your current position. “I knew you’d like it on me… but not in public.”
“Exactly,” he hissed, smacking you again. “You’re such a brat, y/n.”
Letting go of your bottom, Law hastily untied the bows from your hips and pulled the rest of your bikini off. Once that too was tossed away, he freed himself from the restraint of his shorts. You continued to whine, voice louder now as he rubbed his cock against your skin, spitting down at it to get it wet. 
“Law, please!” You begged, “I need to feel you in me… I don’t care what else you do, just stuff me!”
“Don’t care what else?” He echoed your words, lining the tip of his member up with your soaked cunt. “This is a punishment, don’t forget. How about you don’t get to cum until I say so?”
You whined, clearly not liking that idea; but you had no say in whether or not Law would do it. 
You felt one of Law’s hands slip into your hair, grabbing fistfuls of it before pulling on it and finally sliding into your throbbing pussy at the same time. Already it was hard to not cum from that alone, and all you could do was moan and scream in frustration as you tried to hold your orgasm back. 
Law’s pace was ruthless and hard, not giving you any time to adjust to the stretch from his cock as he repeatedly slammed himself into you, getting lost in the feeling of your warm walls fluttering around him as you tried fitting him in. 
Already, your cunt was flooding with juices and that only created more opportunity for Law to fuck you faster, hitting into you more forceful than before; lewd squelching noises accompanied by the slapping of skin echoing throughout the bedroom. 
You moaned and grasped desperately at the sheets underneath you, letting your entire body rock back and forth from the motion of Law’s hard thrusts. “ah-ahh. Law!
“Law! I can’t hold it in anymore,” you cried and begged, letting his name fall from your lips a few more times. “L-Law! Please, I need to cum, Law! I can’t take it!”
You listened for his approval but all you got were grunts and loud pants from behind you, Law not giving you any mercy as he kept up with the abuse on your cunt. 
“Law! I- I can’t- Law,” you screamed, clenching hard onto his cock in an attempt to stop yourself from cumming.
“I don’t give a damn anymore,” he groaned. “Just cum, baby… cum on my cock.”
With his approval, you finally let yourself go and moaned loudly into the mattress as you came; creaming on Law, leaving a white ring of your cum around his cock. 
And Law wasn’t far behind, he continued to fuck you, slam his cock into your spasming pussy for just another moment before tightening his grip on your hips, thrusts becoming sloppy as he let himself start cumming. 
He let out a flustered moan as his hot seed began spilling into you, but he quickly pulled away and let the rest of his cum spill onto your back, leaving a warm sticky mess on your skin.
You both panted heavily, catching your breath and calming down from the intense punishment you’d just endured. After a moment, you felt his mess being wiped off of you, Law gently cleaning you off before turning you on your back so he could look at your face. 
His soft hand cupped your cheek and a kiss was placed on your lips. “You okay, y/n-ya?”
You nodded, blinking away the tears from your eyes. Another kiss against your lips, and you wrapped your arms around Law once again. 
Lifting you up into his hold, Law decided you deserved a relaxing warm bath after what he’d put you through. He carried you to the bathroom, kissing your shoulder and whispering quiet “I love you”s to you the whole way.
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ivystoryweaver · 11 months
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With You Part 2
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Summary: Your fiancé Marc experiences his first hangover in 2 years. Can he face you in the light of day, and admit to you and Steven what he knows about another alter?
Pairings: Marc Spector x reader, Steven Grant x reader, Jake Lockley x reader. Gender neutral reader, though there is one optional fiancé(e) and muñeca(o). (Reader’s choice). No use of Y/N. Reader is engaged to Marc and Steven.
Word Count: 3.1k
Warnings/notables: Angst, comfort, hangover (ish), cursing, cuddles in bed, assumptions, longing, feeling inadequate, brief reference to past trauma, self-worth probs (I mean, it’s Marc). Let me know if I missed a warning. Banter? If mild sarcasm bothers anyone... Probably inaccurate DID, based on the show.
Dividers by saradika
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Steven fell asleep right away - for that, you were grateful. But sleep did not come easily for you. As Steven nestled into the crook of your neck, arm slung across your torso, you could only hope he would sleep off that three-quarters bottle of whiskey.
Pushing your fingers through his soft curls, you pressed your lips to his temple, waiting until his breathing slowed and steadied before confessing into the stillness of the night.
“Marc...I know you can’t hear me right now...” Your lip trembled as you pulled his body closer, gently twisting his soft strands around your fingers. “But we love you. We’re with you. Nothing will change that.”
You supposed it could be considered odd to be speaking to Marc even though it was Steven who fell asleep tangled up in you. And perhaps it was also presumptuous to speak on Steven’s behalf, to Marc. But you knew it was true.
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The next morning, you woke up first, after a few, merciful hours of sleep. You hoped not to disturb the man beside you, carefully slipping away from his grasp. After a quick trip to the restroom to freshen up, you clambered to the kitchen, cursing yourself for not grabbing your fluffy slippers or a thick pair of Steven’s fuzzy socks. Your damn, drafty flat was going to give you all pneumonia, you were certain of it. 
To that end, you started preparing both coffee and tea, unsure of which handsome man would be enduring a hangover this morning. For Steven, you oscillated between a red and a golden tea - hibiscus or chamomile. Marc may have been born and raised in Chicago, but Steven Grant did not mess around about tea. 
Finally deciding on the hibiscus, you grabbed the air tight canister of tea leaves - there would be no dreadful teabags (as your darling Brit quoted Dame Julie Andrews) in your flat. 
Hopefully Marc would drink the tea, but, just in case, you put on the very impressively American coffee maker before finding the bread for some toast.
After everything was hot and ready to go, you crept back into the bedroom, figuring it all might go cold before your sleepy headed fiancé roused. No matter. You just wanted to be prepared.
You didn’t have to wait long because someone stirred just as you pulled on the fluffiest pair of socks with little goldfish (a Hanukkah present to Steven last year) and threw Marc’s favorite tan hoodie over your white t-shirt. Your legs were still bare and you decided that at least your grumpy, hungover boys might have a silly sight to wake up to, if nothing else.
Easing down beside your love, you gently raked your hand through his bedhead, probably your favorite way to (innocently) touch them. 
With a groan, your fiancé squinted, throwing a dramatic arm over his eyes, as if a thousand suns were burning them. (It was still dark in the bedroom). 
“Oh, god,” Marc uttered, his arm flopping back on the mattress. 
You adored Steven, but you were thrilled it was Marc. You needed to speak to him, or at least take care of him. 
“Good morning,” you softly greeted, reaching to massage his temples before pressing a kiss to his forehead.
“Mm-mm, bad morning,” he groaned, rolling over and burying his face in your stomach. His hands somehow conveniently slid right inside his hoodie and underneath your t-shirt, which sent you toppling over, giggling elatedly. 
Marc was a very pouty but adorable puppy sometimes. Grumpiness just worked on him. You liked to joke with him that he would make the cutest grumpy old grandpa someday. Thankfully, he was more interested in using your tummy as a pillow at the moment than the heaping shame and anguish from last night. 
“Thirsty,” he murmured, nuzzling against you. Damn, it was too bad he didn’t feel good, because he was unintentionally turning you on. 
“I got you, baby,” you whispered, prying yourself from his grasp to get his breakfast.
“No, don’t go,” he protested, locking his arms around you, his hot breath falling on the exposed skin of your abdomen, where your shirt had bunched up. “You’re m’pillow.” His words came out all muffled and so, so cute. 
God, he was distracting. “Are you calling me fluffy?” You teased. “I was just going to get you some water. And maybe some aspirin?”
“Wanna sleep,” came his mumbled reply. “You left me.”
“To make you some coffee, you baby,” you playfully shot back, finally climbing out of his grasp.
A few minutes later, you returned with a tray filled with tea, coffee, toast, water and painkillers, only to find Marc planted face first in the pillows. How he managed to look so damn good after downing a bottle of whiskey and sleeping five hours, you would never know. As his muscular back expanded with a deep breath, you almost tossed the tray full of remedies to the side and climbed on top of him.
Later, maybe. 
After a little coaxing, he finally sat up, taking the prepared tray onto his lap. Simply seeing what you’d done to ease his pain this morning reminded him of his shameful display last night. His eyes flickered over to yours, dropping down to the gesture of care and love.
“You...” He exhaled shakily, “you didn’t have to do all this.”
There was no need to argue over breakfast. You gently smiled in return, rubbing his forearm comfortingly. “I made you coffee, but...maybe you’ll try the tea? Steven says the antioxidants--”
“I was an asshole.” His jaw clenched, his gaze now fixed on your hand. The tenderness of your touch burned him with shame.
“You were?” your eyebrow shot up questioningly. “Hm...”
Marc was used to this from you. Just like you had taken a swig of his whiskey last night, your nonchalant reply should not have surprised him in the least. 
You were a champion of the real. He had never met a soul like you, and that’s probably why he was insanely in love with you.
All that mattered to you was the reality of any given situation - what was right in front of you. You were so damn hard to fight with because ... well, you didn’t fight. And for someone as self-punishing as Marc, who spent his youth hearing what a miserable failure of a human being he was, it took him a long time to understand that your steady gentility and raw honesty were not dismissive of his trauma. No, you met it, and him, head on, accepting him and loving him exactly how he was.
You had never asked him to change, never expected him to be anyone other than exactly who he was. After years of self-sabotage, it was unimaginable to him to not have to live up to someone’s standard. He never had successfully lived up to anything, in his mind. 
But you were different. The first time you “fought” had blown him away. He snapped at you, feeling inadequate over one thing or another and you simply said, “No.” He thought you were being dismissive of him, maybe even mocking him, but you were as earnest as ever, telling him, “You think that now. That’s okay. I simply disagree.” Then you kissed your thumb and pressed it to the grumpy crease between his downturned eyebrows. “I love you exactly how you are, Marc.” 
It was the first time you’d said you loved him and he was just...speechless. You then kissed the corner of his mouth and carried on with the evening. That’s why it was so easy to tell you about Steven. 
“I don’t remember you being an asshole,” you shrugged, bringing his mind back to the present. “But I do remember you being upset. And crying.” Scooting a little closer, you twisted the cap off the bottle of painkillers. “You wanna tell me about that?”
He watched your hands, pouring a couple pain pills into your palm, picking up the glass of cool water to make him an offering. His eyes met yours and he knew you were there to ease his pain in every possible way. 
Still, it was so hard for him. And anything too hard typically led to disassociation. 
To gain an extra moment, he took the medicine, gulping down the entire glass of water. 
“Now, what sounds best?” You sweetly asked, nodding to the tray, your gentle smile completely melting him.
“I-I don’t think Steven and I are alone...in the body,” he gulped, his eyes wide and worried. 
Sitting up straighter, you slowly nodded, reaching to take the tray from his lap and set it safely on the night table, giving him time to say more, if he would.
That’s all he said.
Shit, you suddenly worried you didn’t know how to ask questions without sounding offensive, despite the library’s worth of research you had done on DID. But you weren’t an investigative journalist, you were this man’s fiancé(e). So you would start with him. 
“And that scares you, Marc? Upsets you?” 
He glared at you. “Obviously.” Then shook his head. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”
You swallowed, trying to proceed carefully. It was so, so good that he was opening up to you. Instead of playing a guessing game, you decided to be your normal, candid self. 
“Do you know who it is?”
He sort of did. Another man.
“Does he have a name?” 
Lockley. He was pretty sure.
“Have I met him?”
His dark eyes locked onto yours. “I don’t know. Have you?”
Well that certainly explained one reason he was so terrified. 
“No, I don’t think so. Does Steven know?”
Marc reluctantly confessed how hard he’d tried to hide it from Steven. 
“I knew this was all too good to be true,” he brokenly whispered, eyes downcast once more. “You, me, Steven, free...happy.”
“We are those things,” you agreed, keeping him focused on the here, now - the real. “A change doesn’t mean we weren’t those things, all this time.”
“You don’t understand...” Marc rubbed his eyes in frustration (with himself) and tried to ignore his growing headache. Maybe he really should eat and drink something. He tried to tell you about Khonshu. He was going to tell you everything, and Steven too. But it was too much at once, so you found yourself with Steven once more. 
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Steven was very impressed with your choice of “hangover tea” and made sure the body got the nourishment, rest and shower it so needed. He missed his morning classes at uni, but did manage to make it to his shift at the university library, which ran from mid-afternoon to early evening. 
Since Steven seemed to determined to not miss a shift over a hangover, you decided to go ahead and work your shift at the hospital, as planned. The two of you would meet back at your flat for some supper and then, hopefully at least one of you could get some more information out of Marc.
Things didn’t go as planned. 
You returned home, assuming your fiancé would be there, just the same as the previous, fateful, sobriety-breaking night, but no one was home.
You looked around the flat, texted, called. Started dinner. Texted.
Took a shower, called. Called the university library - no Steven. 
Shit. 
Dinner was cold, you had texted the boys a novel, likely filled up their mailbox with voicemails. It was a desperate look - you were aware, but the worst thing you could imagine, aside from the actual worst thing that could happen to a person, was that maybe Marc was on a bender somewhere? It wasn’t exactly his drinking style, even back in the day, but...
Your feet were going to wear holes in the goldfish socks from all the pacing. It was past bedtime, midnight, 1am...should you call the police?
You were now truly, deep-in-your-bones terrified. In four years, neither Steven or Marc had ever just disappeared like this, not without telling you. Sometimes they could be a little radio silent when Khonshu was involved, but...
Maybe they weren’t them. Maybe it was the other. The new alter. Well, new to your boys anyway. You didn’t know anything about him, but one of the first things you wanted to know was - did he possess the ability to reply to a damn text message?
You got your answer twenty minutes later when you heard the slightest thump come from your bedroom. Hoping you had imagined the sound in your intense worry, you engaged in stupid-horror-movie-behavior and went to check out the sound, in the dark.
The moonlit profile of your fiancé sent a dozen feelings through your mind and heart at once, but as usual, you went with the borderline comical response first.
“Did you just come in through the window?”
Dark eyes snapped over to you as...Marc? pulled a flat cap off his head, loosening his curls. Tossing it to the side, he reached for the fingers of dark leather gloves, pulling them loose one at a time, but saying nothing.
You gulped. “Marc?”
Once the fingers of his glove were loosened, he discarded it and reached to work on the other hand, his body language holding none of Marc’s sorrowful tension, nor Steven’s anxious hunching. He moved with ease, dropping his second glove before pulling off his leather jacket. One you’d never seen, actually. You could tell that even in the dark.
Then he eased toward you confidently, like a panther, reaching to pull loose the tie around his neck. Okay, not Marc.
Once the dark tie was free of his neck, he toyed with it in his hands, wrapping it around one fist as his head cocked to the side. 
You forgot to breathe for a second. 
He finally let the thin fabric drift down to the floor and reached for the buttons of his white shirt.
Okay, enough. “You’re not Marc,” you uttered desperately, taking one step back. “Are you?” 
He matched your step backward with a step forward. Then he shook his head once. 
Oh. What had Marc said this morning? “L-Lockley? Is that right?”
He froze.
You decided, in that fleeting moment, to deal with the reality in front of you. You drew a steadying breath, releasing the fear and worry that had plagued you all night. Clearly, he was right in front of you, so he was at least safe. And despite the very distracting sort of striptease thing he just did, he admitted he was another.
So you weren’t going to be afraid anymore and give in to bullshit stereotypes. 
You stepped forward. “Do you know who I am? I live here, with you.”
He nodded. 
He was frustrating, this one. Sighing, you rubbed your tired eyes. “Have we met before, Lockley?”
The slightest smirk pulled up the corner of his mouth. 
“Jake.” 
He inched closer. 
“But you can call me anything you want.”
Well, damn. Huffing out a laugh, you quickly regained your footing. “Smooth. Never heard that one before...Lockley.”
His smirk eased into the slightest smile, but his eyes remained dark, boring into yours before tracing down the shape of your body. 
“I can see why they’re so taken with you, muñeca(o).” 
You always knew the right thing to say with Marc and Steven like 100%, all the time, but damn if this window-crawling, stripteasing man with the velvety chocolate voice didn’t have you stumped. 
Showing you a bit of pity, he extended his hand, offering a proper introduction. “Jake Lockley.”
But once you extended your own hand, he gently grasped your fingers, bending over slightly to lay a kiss to your knuckles. 
“Pleasure,” you shot back, taking his hand and kissing it right back. 
He chuckled lowly as you retreated. 
“Listen, Jake,” you said his first name pointedly, “I’m glad you’re okay. I was really worried tonight. Do you happen to know where my fiancé’s phone is?”
Eyeing you carefully, he reached down to grab his leather jacket, producing Marc and Steven’s phone from the pocket. Handing it over as a peace offering, you sighed, a little relieved it wasn’t lost, only to realize it was powered off. 
“Do you always turn off their phone?” You challenged, attempting to turn it on when you realized...
“It’s dead,” he explained, seeming the slightest bit unsure for the first time this evening. “I was going to...I thought you would be asleep.”
You frowned, confused.
“When I got back,” he clarified, his accent clearly American, although from a different region than Marc’s, it seemed. “I thought you would be asleep, like usual, and when you woke up, one of them would be with you.”
“Like usual?” You gasped. “You come in through the window while I’m asleep...like usual?”
Shit, it kind of sounded creepy said aloud like that. Jake knew meeting you would be a disaster. He really should have paid attention to whether you were really sleeping before he ninja’d his way inside. 
“Look, cariño, don’t worry about it,” he deflected, returning to the task of unbuttoning his shirt. “I’ll be gone as soon as I fall asleep.”
“No,” you protested, moving close to him - as close as you dared. “No, I don’t want you to go. I just met you.”
His confident, dark gaze softened, and he almost dared to hope...
“Look,” you tried again, “I just want to know why we haven’t met before. And why Marc is so upset. And why is he drinking again--”
“Marc was drinking? Shit,” he uttered, pacing away from you. Jake had always successfully evaded his alters, and made a point to do so as he continued their life in the service of Khonshu. 
He should have seen this coming. Most of the scum he took care of in the dark of night didn’t even make him break a sweat, with or without the healing armor of an ancient god. But as word of a powerful nighttime avenger spread in the underworld of London, threats arose equal to the threat Jake posed. 
Just a few days ago, some asshole with powers of his own got the better of him, knocking him out cold. Jake had assumed that Khonshu had intervened but now he wondered...
If Marc woke up in the Moon Knight suit, he would absolutely freak the hell out. Which...now that he thought about it, he had no memory of getting home that night. 
This was just perfect. Jake could live without Marc and Steven knowing about him. He’d lived that way all this time, but you were something else. He hadn’t wanted to meet you like this. He had screwed up, and now you were only worried about Marc. He was worried too, honestly.
Now you would never want to know him.
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haladrielficxch · 1 month
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Author Reveals are here! Read below the cut to see who wrote your favorite fics!
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don't let it in with no intention to keep it by alicuntisms for @nuclearnik
galadriel is in need of a human - halbrand is in need of a warm place to sleep. a bargain is struck. if only galadriel knew who she was striking a bargain with....
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A Lust for Light by cozy_ships for @liminal-zone
The magic is always just there on the periphery of his lands, threatening to spill over. Sometimes he swears he can feel it in the earth beneath his feet, taste it in the water, clear and bright and so utterly unlike his own. The flowing currents of it had drawn him to these lands, led him to stake his own claim and build his fortress along the borders of the Golden Wood. He knows who resides within, hiding herself away amidst the forest’s glittering bowers.
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Tempered by eye_of_a_cat for @cozy_ships on Twitter
She focuses instead on smaller things. She notices the edges of him: the sewed seams of his bracers, the way they press against the skin of his hands; the shadow at his neck where the cloth of his collar falls loosely; the way the fuzz of hair on his arms glows a little in reflected firelight. He is all edges and joins, scars and soldered seams. There will be a way to break him apart.
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at the dawn of our folly, we took from the tree that was rotting by ichabodcranemills for @lisenberry
Stranded togehter in the middle of nowehere, political rivals Galadriel and Halbrand learn they have more in common than they could've possibly imagined.
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Love is heavy and light, bright and dark by lisenberry for @softlighter
There was a time in Lady Galadriel Artanis Noldor’s life when all she had to worry about was keeping her face out of the sun and her feet out of the mud. Her nose in her embroidery and her hands soft as lambskin. Her brain empty and her mouth shut.
Many things had changed since then.
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and I feel like I just got home by Lizzen for @eye_of_a_cat on Twitter
A third age haunting of a sort; an alternate version of life as seen through the looking glass, and the impact resonate.
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She is Everything You Want by MyrsineMezzo for @alicuntisms
As he looked at that tight braid with the light reflecting in her hair, Halbrand realized he knew who she was. Everyone knew who she was. Galadriel Noldor. She was the best and the brightest; the pride of the university who had been profiled in the recent campus magazine because she was on a sure ride through the NCAA fencing tournament system even as a sophomore. He realized Mel had followed his gaze when he heard a low scoff.
“Noldor. A loner who thinks she’s above it all. Now there’s a challenge worthy of the highest of prizes.”
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the only song i want to hear by MyrsineMezzo for @ichabodcranemills
5 times Halbrand kissed Galadriel in exchange for a secret, and one time he did not.
Set throughout the first season of Rings of Power.
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Deeper, Darker Things Than You by nuclearnik for @formerlyIR on Twitter
He is effortlessly charming—and everyone besides Galadriel seems to eat it right up—but something hiding just below the surface, coiled and restless, calls to her.
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don't answer me (i'm calling just to hear you scream" by poeticmemory for @the-sweet-hibiscus
One year after her eldest brother‘s murder, Galadriel and her friends find themselves in the sights of a horror-film obsessed killer.
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everything (except what it is) by softlight for @myrsinemezzo
“And what are you going to say?” “That I can be civil if you can."
Rival teachers Galadriel and Halbrand sign up to run the school show. Things do not go as expected.
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the Curse of Linhir by TheSweetHibiscus for @justatinycollector
The morning of October 28th I, along with my unwilling companion, managed to flea the decrepit town of Linhir. I had ran, cloaked in nothing more than a t-shirt and the threadbare soles of my brother's old hiking boots, nearly twenty miles to the Regent's port home in Númenor. Each step was agony – the ill-timed impromptu marathon more than enough to cause my lungs and thighs to burn like coal cinders. Yet it was nothing compared to the sinking dread — a fear I hadn't gotten far enough away.
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By the Moonlight by justatinycollector for @wyrd-syster
It would seem to Galadriel, in their first few encounters, that Halbrand would always leave her with something. Later, she’d come to learn that he never left a place empty-handed.
The Highwayman AU.
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stones that move (and trees that speak) by Wyrd_Syster for @bad-surprise
Halbrand wants power and Galadriel wants her inheritance. There is no cost too high, no price too steep, to stop them from taking what they want.
A Macbeth AU with a dash of Sleep No More.
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minhosimthings · 6 months
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Hold Me Without Hurting Me: A Jay Fic
A/N: In which an old friend fills your life with flowers again, along a bumpy sided road.
Pairings: Ceo!Jay × Ceo!fem!reader, includes rest of Enhypen and certain other groups
Story prompt: If I had a flower for every time I fell in love with you, I would walk in my garden forever. (This story is based on the language of flowers.)
A/N: got obsessed with flowers one day and boom this came out of it.
Chapter 1: Crocuses and Kindred Meetings
Chapter 2: Germanium and Gin
Chapter 3: Carnations and Cold Winds
Chapter 4: Wattles and Wills
Chapter 5: Marigold and Maladies
Chapter 6: A trip to the Past
Chapter 7: Violets and Violins
Chapter 8: Crab blossoms and Curt kisses
Chapter 9: Nettleseed and Next steps
Chapter 10: Gladiolus and Gemstone Memoirs
Chapter 11: Hyssop and Hidden Feelings
Chapter 12: Deflowering
Chapter 13: Tulips and Tough luck
Chapter 14: Hibiscus and Holding on
Chapter 15 (finale): Yarrow and Yesterday's Love
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lunargrapejuice · 1 year
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hello luna my love <33 how are you? i would love to participate in the blooming love event, it's so adorable!! also the diluc fics youve been posting recently are chefs kiss im eating them up hhh
info for the matchup event:
gender preference: male pls 🙏
about me: i'm rather introverted in general but lively in familiar company! it can take a bit for me to be comfortable but when i am i make jokes every other minute and i try my best to be the life of the conversation <3 i LOVE stoic men with my whole heart and i have a deep seated desire to be some guy's wife that he won't shut up about :")
prompt: either sundress or sunlight would be wonderful!
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i match you with..
✿ alhaitham
“wait! grand sage, we - we weren’t finished.”
“acting grand sage,” alhaitham corrects, stopping in his pursuit to leave this conference room as quickly as possible. he would have thought by now they’d have learned that he doesn’t work outside of office hours and he had almost made it to the door but still they stopped him. “we will continue this tomorrow, during my office hours. my wife is waiting for me.”
he knows he doesn’t need to add that last part, he’s said it every time they wanted to keep him longer, nearly as much as he’s corrected those who keep forgetting the ‘acting’ part of his title but he just couldn’t help himself. and as he turned back around, making his way out the door without another word, he feels the corner of his lips tug upwards at the thought of you actually waiting for him.
it had become routine, he’d say. walking you to work in the morning before heading to the akademiya just for you to find your way there later in the day to walk home with him. the best part of a long work day as sage. life was so much simpler when he was just the scribe, it was easy to slip out of his office and head to wherever you were but as acting grand sage, that so many needed the attention of, it was much harder to get away with.
he hardly pays any mind to those he passes by on his way out the painted glass doors, shining bright blue in the sunlight, and heads down the path leading to where you always wait for him, near the flowerpot a bit away from where the researchers usually stood and argued. like every day, there you were leaning against the railing, admiring the flowers that had begun to bloom as spring set in.
at the sight of you in the blue and pink light, in a sundress he had yet to see you in before, he felt a flutter in his rib cage, like gentle satin wings knocking against him and drawing warmth from his heart. it wasn’t unusual for you to do this to him, not that you’d be able to tell by looking at him, but today it felt.. wilder. like the heat blossoming under his tight shirt was going to reach his ears.
“i see they had you for a bit of overtime today. a whole two minutes, how did you ever survive?” you tease the moment you look up and see him only a few steps away, making your way to his side and accepting his extended hand.
to your surprise he tugs you closer, enough so that you can smell the lingering scent of rose water and hibiscus clinging to him from his morning shower, feel the rise and fall of his steady breaths.
“it was easy knowing my beautiful wife was waiting for me.”
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authors note: aaaaaaa rae <333 💕💖💓💞💖💕💕 i was so excited and giddy writting this🥰💕💖 im still feeling all gooey inside heheh. i've been doing much better, i hope you've been doing good!🥺💖 it always makes me so happy to see you in my notes and on my dash - just why are you so amazing fjdkdkdkdkd
thank you for waiting for me to do this🥺 i appriciate you and i really hoped you enjoy it! xoxoxo🥰💓💞💗💕💖💖
main masterlist | blooming love match ups
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forjongseong · 2 years
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la boca // jay (ENHYPEN)
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pairing: jay x fem!reader
genre: fluff and smut // warning: profanity, blowjob, thigh-riding // wc: ~2.4k
summary: your boyfriend is back from an overseas schedule and you just can't wait to jump on him
author’s note: this the fourth fic inspired by a Camilo song (actually this one is Mau y Ricky ft. Camilo)! the other three are rolex, favorito, and mareado. click here to check out the whole masterlist!
and yes! I wrote this fic right after ENHYPEN's schedule in K-Pop Flex. boy that day was a ride. the stylists came through with their outfits, LETTING JAY GO ON STAGE SLEEVELESS FOR THE FIRST TIME. was it the first time? I think it was. and ever since then us engenes have been all over the place screaming about his arms.
anyway I'm starting a permanent taglist! you can send me an ask if you wanted to be tagged in my future posts. also, I am in the process of writing a sequel for carmesí 
taglist: @hee-pster @duolingofanaccount
happy reading!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm dying to kiss your mouth
I've been dreaming of trying it again for some time
Because you dance like nobody else knows how to dance
You look like the beach and the waves of the sea
The floor-length curtains were wide open as Jay stood by the window, blankly staring at the ongoing traffic below. It was rush hour, people were on their way home, and being in a high-rise building made Jay feel calmer than most of the people sitting in their cars down there. He thought of calling his dad later that night to thank him for the hotel room, perks of being the son of a CEO.
As the sky started to change colors, Jay glanced at his watch. Y/N said she would be there in twenty minutes, and to Jay, it already felt like the longest twenty minutes ever. He was thinking of calling her when he heard a knock on the door. Knowing exactly who it was, Jay sprinted to open the door and smiled as he saw the one standing in front of him.
Y/N’s hair was slightly disheveled. A drip of sweat rushed down her temple and the cropped leather jacket she was wearing might have been the reason why. She took it off to reveal the yellow, flowery sundress she was wearing underneath. Jay opened the door wider to let her in and as she did, he caught the scent of her favorite perfume--yellow hibiscus.
“Sorry,” she said as she set her jacket on the nearest lounge chair along with her handbag. “I didn’t think you would arrive so early so I took my time getting ready.”
Jay smiled as he walked over to her and kissed her temple. “It’s okay.”
“I really need to freshen up. Can I use the bathroom?” asked Y/N.
Jay just laughed his heart out. “Of course? I took this room for us to spend the night. Or two. Why would you even ask?”
“Exactly. Because you paid for it,” said Y/N as she walked towards the bathroom door.
“No, it’s courtesy of dad,” Jay spoke louder when he saw Y/N entering the bathroom. “I didn’t spend a penny on this.”
Jay heard the sound of the water running for a couple of seconds before Y/N poked her head out the door to look at him. “In that case please thank Papa James for me and tell him that I want to go for lunch with him when he’s free.”
“I’m right here and you’re thinking of spending time with my dad?” Jay really just stood there beside the door, looking at Y/N who was tying up her hair into a messy bun. She merely looked at Jay, giving him a ‘really?’ sort of gaze and Jay shrugged before deciding to sit on the sofa.
“Did you make tea yet?” asked Y/N, to which Jay replied shaking his head. “Do you want a cup?”
Jay groaned and stretched out his arms as he leaned back on the sofa. “Nah, I’m good. Come here.”
Without hesitating, Y/N made her way on her sofa and before she could choose a side to sit, Jay pulled her wrist and made her sit on his lap. “Missed you,” he mumbled into the crook of her neck as she pulled him into a tight embrace.
“Darling,” Y/N stroked the back of Jay’s head lightly. “You have no idea how I felt.”
Jay pulled back to look at her and tilted his head, intrigued. Y/N sighed as she looked away and tried to pull every single detail from her memory.
“Twitter was wilding. The moment you guys stepped into the airport, each of you rocking your own style, and YOU with your exposed collarbone,” Y/N pressed her index finger to Jay’s forehead as he laughed. “And your necklace just there sitting around this area,” Y/N started hovering her fingers around Jay’s neckline and she felt his breath hitch.
“Honestly it’s like you’re begging for me to leave hickeys.”
Jay tried to bite his smirk away but failed horribly. “I’m… sorry?” he said, unsure.
Y/N shook her head. “I’m not done yet.”
Jay chuckled and nodded. He fixed a strand of her hair to the back of her ear and caressed her cheek. “Continue.”
“And when Jungwon posted a selfie update with you, the Jaywon stans went wild. Oh, people were drooling over sleeveless Sunghoon too.”
“Were you drooling over him too?”
Y/N paused to look her boyfriend in her eyes. Jay stared back, genuinely curious. “Now don’t be silly. Sunghoon looks great but can you let me finish?”
“Of course, baby,” Jay pinched Y/N’s cheek and it made her pout.
“And then! You guys were doing rehearsals and we saw updates on the timeline but what really broke us was when YOU CAME OUT SLEEVELESS!”
Jay broke out roaring in laughter at the sudden raise of Y/N’s voice, completely amused at the enthusiasm she had retelling the whole story.
“Baby, I’ve seen you naked so why was I hyperventilating too??”
Jay could not, for the life of him, stop laughing. He was embarrassed, gassed up, but also feeling so much adoration for this fine young lady sitting on his lap. “Please continue.”
“Okay. So there were a lot of photos and videos, and of course I scrambled to find a link to stream the whole thing, and I did, thankfully. Let’s just say I can relate to whatever anyone else was feeling. I also wanted to bite your biceps.”
Jay almost snorted at Y/N’s last remarks. “I’ll let you. Are you done?”
Y/N tilted her head, trying to think. “I think I am?”
“Good. Now, come closer.”
Y/N had to steady herself and hold on to Jay’s shoulders as he pulled her by the neck and captured her lips in his. As they danced with their tongues, Jay’s other hand squeezed into her hips, and she let out a soft sigh to which he happily swallowed.
“Do it,” Jay said, almost like he was drunk.
Y/N frowned. “What?”
“You said you wanted to leave hickeys. Do it. Anywhere you want.”
Y/N chuckled and pushed back the hair from his forehead. “You have a schedule in two days. You’re gonna be on camera.”
“There’s this thing called concealer, or I could just wear a turtleneck,” Jay took the liberty to take off his shirt as Y/N was still pausing to consider. “Come on.”
“Why are you so eager?” Y/N asked with a smile.
“I just want to give you what you want,” he leaned in for a quick peck. “And I love feeling your lips all over me.”
Y/N’s heart almost exploded hearing this, so to disguise her excitement, she leaned in and started planting kisses on Jay’s neck. She started on his birthmark, on the left side of his neck, and he decided to close his eyes. His hands were on her waist, rubbing her gently as she worked her way down to his collarbones, sucking and nipping and eliciting musical groans from his lips. When she decided it was time to give his right side its turn, she stopped in the middle to kiss him on the lips and he smiled really wide, eyes still closed. Once she was done devouring him, Jay opened his eyes and saw the lipstick on Y/N’s lips gone, leaving just a sheer red tint around her mouth.
“You went to town,” said Jay, amused. Y/N was rummaging through her handbag while still keeping her seat on Jay’s lap, and then she took out her hand mirror.
“Look,” she said, prompting Jay to look at the result of her work. There were several red marks already starting to bruise and Jay winced because it looked like it hurt, although what he felt the whole time was purely pleasure.
“Happy?” Y/N asked, expecting.
Jay nodded as he cupped Y/N’s face in both his hands. “Thank you, baby.”
Y/N leaned in for another kiss, this time slow and gentle. Before Jay was done with it, though, she pulled back a little, their noses still touching, and asked under her breath.
“Can I suck you off?”
Jay was hoping Y/N did not feel his cock twitch at her request. She patiently anticipated, looking into his eyes. Jay had to mask his eagerness and furrow his eyebrows.
“You don’t have to, babe,” he answered, knowing very well that Y/N much preferred to pleasure him inside her or with her hands.
Y/N pouted and removed herself from Jay’s lap, moving down to kneel before him and spreading his legs in front of her. As she kneeled, she caressed Jay’s thighs and he involuntarily flexed. She rested her head on his thigh before looking back into his eyes.
“I want to,” she said, almost purring.
“Fuck, okay,” Jay answered in a split second. Y/N smiled and started unbuckling his belt.
Not knowing where exactly to put his hands in this position, Jay just sat there helplessly. But when Y/N finally freed his cock from his boxers, his hand instinctively went to the back of her head. When she started licking, he threw his head back. When she started sucking, he stifled a groan and made a fist of her hair, his other hand gripping the edge of the sofa. With the mix of licks, sucks, and kisses going on in between his legs, Jay lost track of time, and he didn’t even have the chance to warn Y/N that he was coming.
Y/N took it gracefully, calmly helping Jay ride out his high before carefully slipping his cock out of her lips. The sound was lewd and Jay was gasping for air. The sight in front of him didn’t help. Y/N blinked, looking at him as she swallowed the last of his drops, wiping the bottom of her lips and cleaning herself to make her look presentable again.
“You’re a fucking goddess, do you know that?” Jay finally broke the silence as he kept his gaze on his girlfriend. Y/N smiled shyly before coming back up. Jay held both her hands to keep her steady as she leaned in.
“Can I kiss you?” she asked. Jay chose to answer by shoving his tongue in her mouth, tasting himself. Y/N smiled into the kiss and stroked both of his arms as she let herself sit on his lap again.
“Y/N,” Jay fixed the strands of hair again and caressed her cheek.
“Hmm?” Y/N replied nonchalantly as she dabbed the beads of sweat forming around Jay’s forehead.
“I’m sorry but I’m really too tired to do anything more tonight,” he said blatantly, seeming to have lost all pride and energy after getting the best suck of his life.
Y/N chuckled and lightly slapped Jay on the cheek, to which he reacted with a playful wince.
“It’s okay, I only came here to suck your cock anyway,” she said, obviously joking. Jay groaned and threw his head back again, sulking.
“Wait,” he suddenly sat straight back up. “I’ve got an idea.”
Y/N frowned but quickly relaxed her face as she gasped, feeling Jay’s cold fingers suddenly grazing the top of her heat.
“Alright babe, since you’re already soaking wet,” Jay tapped her hips to signal her to stand up for a while. As she moved out of the way, Jay pulled his pants all the way down to his ankles. Y/N was about to open her mouth when Jay gave a command.
“Ride my thigh,” he said, like an offering.
Y/N almost choked at the proposal. She was almost too shy to say yes, but who was she to refuse? Jay was sitting there buck naked except for his pants pooling around his ankles, and Y/N was standing with her sundress still intact, holding the curves of her torso.
“Come on,” Jay inquired. “Take off your panties.”
There was something very assertive about Jay’s tone sometimes that would always make Y/N feel compelled. She did as she was asked, and Jay put his hands on her hips again, guiding her to sit on his right thigh.
“Just keep grinding, I’ll help you finish.”
As Y/N started straddling Jay’s thigh, he kept one hand on her hips and the other pulling down the strap of her dress. When she sat down, Jay felt the contact on his skin and immediately sat up, flexing his thigh.
“Go on, babe,” Jay whispered, pulling her in closer. “Move for me.”
“I don’t think this will really…” Y/N wasn’t able to finish her sentence as she felt Jay pull the top of her dress down, exposing her breasts and latching his lips on to one of them. “…work.”
Y/N sighed as she started grinding on Jay’s thigh. The feeling of his lips on her skin, sucking and nibbling, contributed to the immense build up she felt in her stomach. Jay’s hands were stroking her hips, caressing her back, touching her everywhere else but her core.
“Jay,” Y/N moaned. “I need help.”
Jay nodded and slid a hand underneath her dress, quickly finding her clit. He pressed his thumbs on it and drew circles as her moans grew louder. His eyes were glued on her face, making sure he was able to see the signs of her reaching climax without having to tell him.
Y/N whined and hunched her body over Jay’s shoulder. He kept his pace and whispered sweetly into her ear.
“I know, babe, I know,” his other hand started stroking her hair. “I’ve got you.”
With the reassurance and the expert ministration of his fingers, Y/N finally reached her high. Jay felt his thigh now soaked in her juices, and he smiled proudly, knowing that she wouldn’t see his smug smile as she was still hunched over him.
“You okay?” he asked as she pulled back to sit up straight, still glued on his thighs.
Her cheeks were flushed, her messy bun from earlier now more of just a mess than a bun, and even her eyeliner was slightly smudged. But to Jay, she looked the prettiest this way.
“I can’t believe you just made me cum on your thigh,” Y/N said with a sigh, clearly looking more tired than him now.
“If I could I would make you cum anywhere on me, babe,” said Jay as he grabbed Y/N’s hand and kissed the back of it. “I’m all yours.”
“And I’m yours,” Y/N replied, bringing Jay’s hand to caress her cheek. “Tea?”
Jay chuckled and wondered how Y/N was able to switch within seconds, gaining her energy with just simple words of affirmation.
“Yes, please,” he answered with a smile.
Y/N planted one last kiss on Jay’s cheek before standing up and walking away. Jay let out a deep breath.
“Put your pants back on,” she said as she moved to grab the kettle. “I don’t want my tea to get cold just because we got busy fucking again.”
-END-
© forjongseong 2022, all rights reserved
if you liked this, please reblog or reply to the post, or stop by my ask box! thank you for reading ❤️‍🔥
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xxrainbowvibezxx · 3 months
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Piggybacking off of the Taleena daughter HC ask, what about Jadetana? What are your thoughts? What would their wedding day be like? Who proposed to who? What does the ring(or whatever ornament that Outworlders use)? Are children something that they would want?
I can see both Kitana and Mileena slipping little references to Sindel (mom's gotta get her rep) into their individual ceremonies in some way. Maybe using her favourite flowers as decor or something along those lines, kinda like how the festival in MK1's story mode was done to honour Jerrod's memory.
Small Jadetana wedding fic
(Wedding headcanons will be separate since this turned into a fic)
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(They need to bring Jade back already. I miss her)
•I headcanon that Jade proposed
•jade is countess of Edenia
The sun was slowly starting to set over Edenia. The blue sky started to fade into an ombre of orange, pink, and purple. Jade could feel the sudden change in the air, the slight breeze kissing her skin. It felt great after spending the day in the sun. She had enjoyed one of the rare free days that both her and Kitana had. So fortunate that they both happened to have some free time, at the same time. Being Countess leaves her little time to herself with specific responsibilities and royal meetings. Her schedule is usually full. And Kitana. Kitana. Princess, General, one of the daughters of Sindel, the list goes on and on. Her schedule is always full.
Jade turns her head as she feels Kitana's slender finger slip through her own. The Countess squeezed her hand in return, offering Kitana a smile. Kitana smiled back, feeling the warmth envelope her hand. Such a welcoming feeling after weeks of stress with leading an army and helping her older sister's reign. Things get rough, so she truly cherishes the days when she can finally release the weight on her shoulders.
Kitana lets out a contented sigh, "I feel at ease. After weeks, it feels nice getting away. even if it's just a day, im glad we get to spend it together."
Jade chuckles, rubbing her thumb against the top of Kitana's hand. "I imagine the last few weeks haven't been too kind to you."
"It comes with the position. Snakes are always after my sister's neck, even after thousands of years. Tanya and I have dealt with 5 separate attempted assassinations. On top of that, there's been whispers of a rebellion. I wouldn't be surprised if it's Shao." Kitana rubs her forehead with her free hand. "I just want my sister's reign to thrive."
Jade's face showed signs of concern as she stared at Kitana. "And you're doing a great job, Kitana." She squeezes her hand again. "You're a strong general, and your sister has rolled in another golden age in Outworld thanks to your help. And remember, Edenia is your ally. My army will aid you if you fall short."
Kitana felt appreciative. For the time she's known the green eyed royal, she's been nothing nice.
They fell into a comfortable silence as the carriage ride continued. The only sounds being the whispers of the wind and the creaking of the carriage wheels. They were on the outskirts of Edenia by now. Jade figured that this would be the best time to propose. She had it in her mind to do it months ago, but of course, duty came first.
The carriage was rolling through a spot the Countess was familiar with. Perfect. She knocks on the carriage for it to stop. Kitana furrows her brow in confusion. Jade saw the look on Kitana's face from the corner of her eye. "There's a place I want to show you. The view is beautiful you'll love it."
As the carriage comes to a full stop, Kitana steps out first. She holds her hand out for the Countess to grab. Jade happily accepts her hand and steps out of the carriage, her heels meeting the dirt road. They had stopped next to a grassy cliff that overlooked a vast field of trees on one side and red, pink, and yellow hibiscus flowers on the other. In the distance stood out a wisteria tree. Hand in hand, Jade led Kitana towards the tree. They sat down to take in the view. From here, they can see the Edenian palace. Shades of orange and purple painted the sky as the sun started to hide behind the place.
"Jade, this view is extraordinary. It's as if I'm sitting in front of a painted canvas. Outworld is rarely this quiet." Kitana's eyes light up with awe as she admired the view in front of her. Jade turns her head to look at Kitana. The Countess takes a moment to adore the way the warm hues give the princess a warm glow, her usual dark brown eyes looking like golden honey. "It definitely adds to Edenia's charm." Both let out a short chuckle and stare off to the distance.
Jade takes a deep, contented breath before speaking. "I used to come here a lot when I was a child. My parents would stop here after royal meetings to distress. I used to pick flowers and give them to my mother. She happily accepted them and made a little flower crown and braided the leftover flowers in my hair." Jade smiles fondly as the memories of her childhood start to play in her head. "It astounds me how one place can hold many beautiful moments, and I want to keep making them... with you, by my side, Kitana."
Kitana's eyes widen slightly as she takes in each word that comes out of Jades mouth. Jade takes hold of Kitana's hand, standing up and helping her up. She grabbed her other hand as she smiled softly at the beautiful princess standing in front of her.
"From the day we were acquainted to now has been the happiest years. Kitana, you are a confident, gorgeous, strong woman. A classy princess and an even better general." The princesses' eyes begin to swell with tears as her smile widens. Jade continues, "I want to be with you through joy and sorrow. Be your strength when you feel weak. I will support you when times get rough." Jade reaches behind her back, revealing a velvet, navy blue box. She opens the box, presenting Kitana with a ring. A beautiful ring with a blue jewel surrounded by gold and silver.
"With this ring, I ask you to be mine, princess Kitana of Outworld." Kitana sniffles, nodding her head while choking out the word yes. Jade's smile grows wider as she carefully slips the ring on the princess' left ring finger. Kitana wraps her arms around Jade's neck, pulling her in for a kiss.
When they pull away, Kitana rests her forehead against Jade's forehead. "You know, I was gonna propose to you. Mileena came along with me to get the ring. You have no idea what that's like." Jade chuckles, "you still can. I'm right here." Kitana pulls out a small box and opens it.
"Jade, my enchanting countess, I am forever grateful for the gods who decided to make our paths cross. The day we met marked the start of something I never thought would blossom into what we have today. And with this ring, it marks the new chapter in our lives filled with promise and love. I ask you to be mine, Jade, countess of Edenia." Tears came down as she tried to wipe them. "Yes," she was smiling ear to ear, Kitana expression mirrored hers. The princess slipped the ring on the countess' finger before being pulled into a kiss.
The ring Jade got for Kitana
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The ring Kitana got for Jade
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(This is the first fic I posted. I know it's not the greatest, but I tried. I wasn't expecting this to turn into a fic it kind of just happened. I'll get the wedding headcanons done soon. Thank you for reading, and if you have any suggestions, my asks are always open)
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sabusthings · 9 days
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9 and 13
I already answered 13 but get ready for 9!!!
9. Write a recommendation of someone else's fic you enjoyed!
(With a few exceptions, I don’t know some of the authors’ tumblr names. If you see ur fic here, Im kissing ur face thank you for ur service. It also goes without saying, but please keep in mind the tags on these fics if you choose to click; if they ain’t your cup of tea, click the back button. But f you do like them, please leave them a comment!!!!)
A Mindless Melody Maddening Me
Most fics have Salieri having an angst session over Mozart (which is always excellent!!!) but few have it the other way around. I love this fic because Mozart is so fucking PETTY over others spending time with Salieri in a normal fashion that he can no longer do. He acts very nonchalant about it but you can see that it’s eating him up inside ITS GREAT.
Hibiscus
Okay so I did a Salieri/Dantes doodle and it resulted in that fic so mild bias. I love it when Dantes gets teased. Ilu dez ur gr8
Pulled from the shadows
More bias, I commissioned this one, but Adet is PEAK writer. Anything they have is just 10/10 and I recc everything they have made!!!!!
Direct Someday
Yashiki/Mashita soft fic. It has old man being soft about the tsundere man. The author has another fic of them getting Spicy which i also recommend.
The indomitable human soul
Carm real MVP. I love this fic so much and it’s still ongoing. I love how they get into the nitty gritty of Dr tenma (2003 edition) and his thought process from how to bring his old best friend back to how he thinks of himself and everything in between. A+++++
Goodbye to a World
Do you like seeing Astro boy being emotionally in pain? Bc this story is about him being in emotional pain All The Time. It’s an excellent read and I love the conflicts Astro gets put in and how he gets through them. I especially love the chapters where Astro deals with the aftermath of a PTSD episode (boy that feels weird to write!) and its a chef kisssss
In the House of our Lady
DEEP INHALE. Please read about Salieri’s catholic guilt. And after that, please read all the other things that Ginger writes. Ginger is amazing I love them their writing is so good SO GOOD
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b4mpyre-k1zz3s · 8 months
Note
omg i loved your dark bam imagine!!! is there any way we get some more, like how he manipulates the media or her and ends up with her?? sorry i just love it so much and you’re literally so talented!! no rush in it! have a wonderful day/evening/night/morning idk just have a good ig ❤️❤️
Can’t Stand Losing You (Pt. 2)
Whatever was going on between Bam and you was impossible to make heads or tails of. He only seemed to complicate things for you further when he gives you a surprise over dinner.
Bam Margera X Fem!Reader
(Dark, Angst, Fluff)
3.3k Words
Warnings: Obsessive behavior, suggestive content, paparazzi, bribery, possessiveness, lying, kissing
An: Thank you sosososoos much for this request!!! You are so sweet thank you!! I am so happy that my fic captivated you so much! All of your love for my work means so much! <3 I felt like the conclusion of the original fic was a little vague, so I was so happy to expand on it more! I am a sucker for the dark stuff so keep those requests coming! XD (links to parts 1 and 3)
“Hey, is this, like- Star Magazine?” Bam feigned high pitched valley girl upspeak as he pressed the phone against his ear with his shoulder. “Mmhm. Yeah, so I’m at Venice Beach, right? And I see this guy- total dreamboat- and he’s with some chick, and I’m all like, ‘Who’s that?’” Bam thrummed his a against the wheel of his Hummer, parked about a block away from your house.
Summer was brutal in LA, and swimming was one of the better ways you could cool off. Usually, you and Bam blended in with all of the other ridiculously hot people that hung out there, so it wasn’t an issue. You would splash around and Bam would end up chasing seagulls or face planting into the wet sand hard enough that he was sneezing out sand for weeks. Relatively quiet stuff (by your standards).
This wouldn’t be the case for long. “So I go to get a better look and you’ll never guess who it is!” He grinned, hearing the operator lean back and say something to someone just out of reach of the receiver- they were sending people. The operator returned, eagerly listening, “Who did you see, miss?”
“Bam Margera!” Feigning the voice of an excitable female fan, he could audibly hear the guy sit up in his chair as he continued, “And he’s shirtless too! What a hunk!” Taking a second to collect himself, Bam continued with his act, “Yeah! And, like- I think he’s with some model lady too? I dunno…maybe she’s his girlfriend or something?”
Click.
☆彡
“Are dudes really wearing that kinda stuff nowadays?” You joked, peering at the cleft of Bam’s ass crack that showed over his low swim trunks. Never in your life had you seen anyone wear them that low. He shrugged as you walked through the parking lot, past a couple of vans parked right where the sand met asphalt, “What?” He was several shades lighter than the sand you popped your folding chairs onto, his limbs dappled in multicolored bruises from skating and stunts. He looked like a bad peach. Scoffing, you flicked your sunglasses open, replying to Jim in a jokingly sarcastic tone, “You’re practically exposing yourself, Bam. You are such a slut!” Bam sat down in the chair next to you, “Yeah, you’re one to talk.” Well he did have a point there- you weren’t exactly dressed conservatively yourself.
But you couldn’t help it. It was a perfect day, and you needed to get a tan for your next photoshoot for some swimwear company. Reaching into your tote bag, you grabbed the bottle of sun tan oil. The sparkly hibiscus flower on the clear bottle flaked pink glitter off into your hands as you poured some out, rubbing it onto your shoulders and back. From behind you, Bam watched you with fervor as you massaged it in. He chuckled suggestively, “You need some help with that?”
“Haha. Very funny!” You rolled your eyes, “I am more than capable of applying my own lotion, thank you.” Reclining in his seat, he chuckled, “Eh, was worth a shot.” Your eyes drifted along the sands, the sounds of the waves like silk over your ears. It was quiet, as usual, while you people-watched. Mom with her kids, some bitch from the Real World getting into a fight with her boyfriend, guy with a camera- typical stuff. And it seemed that that day, for once in a very long time, that everything was normal. You and Bam made fun of the surfers when they wiped out, he got fly-by shat on by a seagull, and everybody had a really great time.
Bam would have an especially good time a few hours after you left.
☆彡
The silver magazine rack creaked as Bam flipped through it, humming to himself. By now it was night, and the dim light from the dirty little corner store that he stopped in filtered out onto the street though the glass storefront. Tapping his foot impatiently on unswept floors, he scanned through the tabloids for anything with his face on it.
Jackpot! His eyes went wide as he snatched up the thin, papery tabloid. Bam flipped through it, his eyes scanning every page. And there you two were, a picture perfect celebrity couple. A damn sexy one too, he thought, eyeing your exposed skin. The bold, bright pink text screamed at him from the front page, “Just like Paradise! Bam Margera spotted with girlfriend Y/N at Venice Beach!”
Grabbing a candy bar, he got his purchases and had them rang up at the counter. Not even waiting to drive back to his hotel, he kicked his feet up and read by the light of the dashboard. “Hmm…” Furrowing his brow, he thought about slipping that camera guy a twenty next time to make sure he got more flattering photos of him.
★彡
With all the flashing lights and media people, you really felt like a big shot as you walked down the red carpet. All the guests at the premiere were all dressed up so nicely, in their dazzling dresses and fancy suits- and then there was Bam, who was always too good to dress up for anything, especially these kinds of things. It meant nothing, you reminded yourself, as he snaked his arm around you. You two were going together to mess with the media, that’s it. Sure, Bam bought your dress and shoes and made sure you looked like total eye candy when you were with him, but it would be just the same as when Steve and Chris make out on the red carpet- it’s just for fun.
“Hey Bam! Over here!” Some reporter lady with the most egregious hair to body ratio you had ever seen beckoned him over, sticking a microphone in his face. “Who are you with tonight?” His arm around your waist pulled you a little closer, feeling the purple velvet of your dress, “Well, this sweetheart right here is my girl, Y/N. Ain’t that right?” You giggled and smiled, playing the role of a smitten girlfriend well.
What did trip you up, however, was when Bam brought his face close to yours for what you thought was going to be a kiss. Instead, he planted two little pecks on your cheekbone, before licking a hot stripe up from your jaw to your temple. “Ah!” You couldn’t help from exclaiming in surprise as he snickered, the spit rapidly cooling on your face. The lady seemed shocked, but not as shocked as you were. And just as soon as that happened, you were whisked away to the next flock of people asking for photos of you two. You whispered to him, “I swear to god, Bam- if that makes me break out after this…”
☆彡
The premier was fun and all, but Bam decided that the movie sucked and you dipped halfway though. After sneaking pas the other guests, you silently ducked out a side door in the theater, walking down an alley that was illuminated only by floodlights. He looked you up and down, the look behind his eyes unclear due to the cool sunglasses-at-night look he was sporting, “You wanna get ‘somethin to eat?” You thought of what was nearby, not wanting to chance it with the paparazzi that seemed to follow you everywhere recently, “Yeah, maybe…do you have something in mind?” The grin he gave you after your question made you a little uneasy.
Your jaw dropped when you saw where he was taking you. It was one of those romantic, fancy restaurants with lighting so low you could barely see your plate while you were eating. “Bam! This is…you- you can’t get in here without a reservation six months in advance!” He just smirked in response, not hesitating as he squeezed past the crowd of expensively dressed people, leaving you to follow him like a lost puppy. Leaning against the lectern, he smirked expectantly at the Maitre D, “Reservation for Margera?”
“I’m sorry, sir. We don’t-“ Just out of your sight, Bam palmed a couple hundreds to the tuxedo clad man. He paused, thinking for a second before nodding. “Ah, yes! Come right with me, sir.” You gawked at the lavishly decorated restaurant as you walked, Bam’s hand around yours like he thought you couldn’t keep up with him on your own.
It was beautiful- really the kind of place he would pick. You could’ve sworn you were in the castle of some medieval vampire prince as you were seated on the second floor balcony, overlooking the large dining room. Gold candle light danced off of the crystal chandelier in the center of the room, complimenting the purple velvet that was everywhere, from the upholstery on the seats to the large, draping curtains over giant windows. Everything matched, from the dark stained wood of the tables to the black jackets of the servers and the cold, metal railings you were seated near.
☆彡
You listened to Bam as he animatedly told you about his trip to Vegas he just got back in from, “Yeah, it was crazy! I mean-“ He rolled up his sleeve, showing off his most recent tattoo in the low light, “I got this done by Kat Von D.” You leaned forward to get a batter look, squinting at the design. He smirked a little, your forehead almost touching his. His voice got a little softer as he continued, “After that, me and Dunn visited the AVN Expo- had a blast.”
“What’s that?” You sat back, picking idly at your food. He seemed a little surprised at the fact that you didn’t know, his voice returning to its normal register, “You know, the porno convention.” You raised your eyebrows, your eyes widening. He chuckled at your surprise, a glint in his eye, “Yeah! There's pretty much naked chicks everywhere there! If I’m being honest, I think that’d be a great j-“ His attention was turned to the waiter who was with glasses and a bottle of wine for who knows how long, “Oh, thanks.” As he bent down to pour them, Bam paid him no mind, his smirk audible in his voice. “Anyways, as I was saying, it is a hell of a good time. Maybe next year I could get you Ron Jeremy’s autograph.” You giggled a little as the waiter fled, “That would be great! I wish I could come with you!”
“What do you mean?” Bam asked, his tone shifting as he raised an eyebrow at you. You pressed your lips together, “I mean- I'm just usually pretty busy with work. It’s not like I could just take time off.” Chuckling, he leaned back in his seat, glass of wine in hand, “Oh, sure you can’t.You have the money to go wherever you want. I go to Finland, like- three times a year!” He took a sip of his Pinot Noir, “Why don’t you go to…the Caribbean or something?” Idly picking at your food, you replied matter of factly, “Well you know people in Finland. It’s not like I have buddies in the Caribbean. I can’t even get a day off until November!”
Reaching into his pocket, he wordlessly passed you a white envelope over the purple silk tablecloth. Your head tilted to the side as you took it, opening it with your well manicured nails. Bam had an air of coolness, watching you with steepled hands as your eyes went wide. To your shock, inside the envelope were two light blue plane tickets to Westchester, Pennsylvania. The flight was tomorrow. He smiled.
★彡
It seemed that no matter what time of year it was, Westchester was cold. Your LA blood wasn’t used to the chill, forcing you to shiver against Bam, the cab’s heat blasting on you two. “I can’t believe this…” You grumbled, pulling his coat that he gave you around you. The fur on the hood felt nice against the cold back of your neck as you seethed, “My boss is gonna kill me, Bam!” He tsked, affectionately pulling an arm around you. “Oh, shut up. You know you love this.” His voice had an endearing tone as he held you close enough that you could smell him- beer and cigarettes masked under the cologne he wore to impress you. You were too cold and tired to fight, instead opting to try and sap any warmth from him and the car's air vents until you got to your destination.
The windows were steamy by the time you arrived at what he dubbed Castle Bam. You were half awake, exhausted from the long flight while he grabbed not only his but your luggage, quickly scooping you up in his arms and shutting the car door with his foot. There was no doubt you were awake now. “Ah! Bam!” He cackled as he sprinted up the driveway and into the house carrying you.
Someone sitting on the black leather couch in the living room sat up when Bam called out to him, “Hey, Dunn!” You were unceremoniously dropped into the couch, with Bam still wearing his shit-eating grin, “Meet the princess of Castle Bam!” You rubbed your eyes looking up at the stranger across from you, “Mmhm. Hi.” Nodding, he put a hand out to you, “I’m Ryan, nice to see you. God- Bam’s been talking about you nonstop.” You shook his hand and smiled back. He seemed friendly and comparatively normal next to Bam who stared holed into the back of your head with a weird look in his eye. Tossing a handful of clothes at you, he swiftly left and went upstairs, presumably to his room.
“Put these on. I have somewhere to be tonight.”
☆彡
Bam smirked, leading you through a side entrance in the venue through a packed hallway. It felt like one of those things you shouldn’t be doing, but you did it anyway. “Y/N, this guy’s probably the coolest person you’ll ever meet.“ Giving a nod to one of the security guys, Bam led you up a set of stairs, squeezing past people, giving you the rundown.“His name’s Ville Valo, and his band’s called H.I.M. Got that all?” You nodded, trying to show that you were listening. He smiled, reaching a door at the top of the stairs, “Good. Now, don’t make an idiot’a yourself.”
From how much you heard Bam fangirling about these guys, they were kinda…underwhelming looking- you expected something a little bit more Sisters of Mercy. You walked into a room of maybe five guys, just sitting around, drinking beers and waiting to get called onstage. “Hey, Ville! What’s up, man?” He plopped down onto the little floral upholstered couch someone must’ve fished out of a dumpster next to maybe the most beautiful man you had seen in your life as he shot a nod to Bam. You were beaconed over, and you squeezed in between him and the arm of the couch, practically sitting on his lap.
From the far end of the couch, Ville leaned across to you, giving you a once over with half lidded eyes. “Pleasure to meet you” His voice was gentle, with an accent that was remarkably European (though you couldn’t place exactly where- you’re a model, not an encyclopedia). He gave you a lipsticked smile as Bam turned to you while you were distracted, taking your face in his tattooed hand and gripping it hard as he suddenly pressed his face against yours. Your eyes went wide as you felt his tongue against yours, freezing like a deer in headlights. This isn't something friends do. You couldn’t figure out where your mouth ended and his began until he pulled away from the mess of flesh with a cocky grin, “LA’s finest.”
He gave Ville one of those looks that say more than words ever could. Seemingly unphased with Bam devouring you like a lion eating a gazelle on the Savannah, he laughed a little and got up, pleasantly gesturing for you to follow him, “Here. I’ll show you backstage.” And he led you down the stairs and through all these corridors, Bam still holding you close the whole time like he was afraid you were going to float away. “And this,” Ville gestured to a door that was labeled as his dressing room, “is where it all happens.” He glanced back at you, making the kind of eye contact that insinuated things. This clearly displeased Bam, him shooting a look back at him. Ville just chuckled, but before anything rash happened, someone came and got the band to bring them out onstage.
☆彡
The dark, desolate car ride home after the show was underscored by the music playing from the stereo of Bam’s orange Hummer. He had 24 CDs and about 22 of them were H.I.M. The green numbers on the stereo blurred in your vision as you squinted, trying to tell the time. You could see that it ended with ‘Am’. Sighing, you closed your eyes and let your head hit the window as the music washed over your brain like river rocks, the singer going on about his “poison girl”, whatever that means. Behind the wheel, Bam smiled, glimpsing over at you from the dashboard light. So much had been going on, and you just needed to not think too hard for a little. And you got back to the castle and headed upstairs and before you could realize it you were in his bedroom. It wasn’t too bad- his black sheets felt so nice and the room was comfortably dim, exhaustion claiming you. Friends share beds all the time anyways.
But out of the corner of your eye, you spotted something hanging out from under his mattress. You thought to yourself- he was in the bathroom, so it wasn’t like he’d notice if you snooped a little. Quietly rolling off the bed, you bent down and wiggled out the pink, papery object. Your eyes went wide as you stared at it. It was one of those celebrity tabloids- with you on it. Perplexed, you lifted the mattress up more, wondering why in the hell he’d collect this kind of thing.
Oh god. Your heart dropped. There had to be at least twenty under there. Some were from before he even met you, and others were as recent as the previous week- just tucked away down there like prison contraband. Your mind was racing so fast that you didn’t even notice the sound of the bathroom door opening as Bam walked in- not until he leaned over you and put a hand on your shoulder, making you jump. Whipping your head around, you were face to face with the fabric of his gray pajama pants and the bare skin of his stomach, close enough that you could feel his soft skin on your eyelashes as you stared at his heartagram tattoo. You still clutched one of the tabloids in your hand as you panickedly looked up at him, gesturing to your findings. “What- what’s all this…?” He sighed, kneeling down to get eye level with you.
“Y/N- Y/N. Listen.” He took one of the magazines scattered on the floor into his hands, seeming earnest as he spoke, oddly calm, “I only buy this shit cause it’s funny. I mean- they say all this ridiculous shit about us!” Flipping through one of them, your eyes scanned the pages. Everything that was written about you was…oddly sweet, endearing even. Something seemed to click in your head. He liked you- he liked you. He was trying to impress you this whole time. Silently engrossed in what you were reading, you mused “Is it really that bad…?” Bam’s eyes flitted up to yours and you almost seemed to smile as you turned it over to read the cover, “Just like Paradise…Bam Margera spotted with girlfriend, Y/N, at Venice Beach.”
You were just barely- no, less than an inch away from each other as your eyes met his. And you kissed him and it felt good- so much better than that kiss before. It was soft and sweet, in a way neither of you were really expecting it to be.
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strawhatsoraya · 2 years
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Hiii! <3 So.. I wanna preface this by saying: OMG, I love your writing and I love reading your reblogged posts and quotes and I really hope that at some point I manage to write as beautifully as you do! The language just flows and.. .sighs I wish I'd say I was better at writing in my native language but I feel like that would be a lie. ANYHOW… may I request something…? Ace with a female reader, who feels bad for being a bit chubby? Just, like, you know, not the typical One Piece-hot-woman-figure, but perhaps (in her mind) a bit too much booty, too thick thighs, a too soft belly and (the only thing she's a bit happy with) quite decent breasts? But, baseline, is convinced that a hottie such as Ace would never ever consider her to be attractive. (What? Me? Self-inserting? Noooo. I'd NEVER. I totally don't think my PhD studies ruined my body worse than I'd like to admit. *coughs*) Could be fluffy. Or NSFW... which would make me especially happy. <3 If you feel up for it, of course!
Either way, I needed to tell you that I love scrolling through your new posts :D
I keep meaning to ask you what's your native language? I speak and write Spanish as well but my spelling, and grammar in Spanish is muy terrible. So I'm sure you're just fine lol. Anyway, so I know this was supposed to be a "reader doesn't think ace will find her attractive" and somehow it became a "two idiots don't know what they're doing or talking about" slow burn. I promise you I wrote it with my whole heart though. *does silly dance* AND IT'S NSFW. This fic consumed my mind for this whole day and I needed it to be done ASAP because otherwise I couldn't live. I hope you enjoy it!! Also you are absolutely the sweetest person ever. I'm so so so SO happy you love my writing. Your kind words and feedback are the best. Plus you're just so fun to talk to. BUT LET ME STOP BABBLING. HERE'S YOUR FIC.
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ACE X CHUBBY FEM!READER | NSFW, Soft Smut ™, Slow Burn Babeyyy WORD COUNT: 9k (i have nothing to say for myself) CONTENT WARNING: alcohol consumption (because I am sora and I am a grown woman who likes to write about alcohol), profanity (not a lot but enough), angst galore, a sprinkle of fluff because it's cute decorations, unprotected sex (when will they learn???), groping, sloppy kisses because ace is passionate and means well but he is also eager, that being said oral female receiving with some sloppy head, nipple play, plenty of ass grabbing, biting, ace talks way too much for his own good, he is silly and just says things, and it might be embarrassing but that's just how he is, you know i love my repeating themes so if you hate that please stay away!!, is a hurricane/storm a warning? then yes, i guess dangerous time to be partying and having sexy but these are pirates, handjob, what else?, oh jealous ace is amazing, also flirty marco because i love marco sue me A SUMMARY: Ace comes aboard the Moby Dick, fire in his fists, fire in his eyes. Y/N wants to know his reason for fighting, but curiosity is a beast of a burden, and when feelings get swept up in the heat of his storm, Ace has to make a choice between reason and his heart.
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I - A Disturbance : Wind & Fire
You were born in summer heat. Your mother's arms welcomed you into her world, sticky with sweat but full to the brim with love. Her plush lips against your temple, baptize you with a kiss. You grow, not like a palm tree all spindly trunk and leafy green top, but like a wild hibiscus tree; small and closely rooted to the ground with bushy branches covered in small leaves reaching out to the horizon. Like the Hibiscus, you dance in the wind, laughter trailing behind you. In your hair, its red flower entangles in curls. The sparkling water of the beach is always warm when you swim it. Your mother grows weary of warning you about the currents, and the treacherous waves. Eventually she gives up, names you her little mermaid, and braids beads into your hair that sparkle in the sun. Despite your mother's warnings you always find yourself there, at the cliff by the sea.
He is born in secret. He's born because there's nothing left. A mother's dying wish whispered into the soft spot on his head, to a dark curl who can't remember the words. In time, he runs as fast as his legs can carry him, through forests, creeks and mud. On the creak of the branches under his feet he tries to find that elusive promise; words he had sworn he never heard but somehow left a gaping hole. Sometimes he thinks he hears them in the howling wind. Sometimes he only feels it on the heat of his skin, when the sun is blistering hot above him. Heart torn in two, he always finds himself there, on a cliff looking out at the sea.
Like a Siren, it calls to them. On the horizon, the sun blinks as it sinks under the water, a fading beacon. The wind whips around their shoulders, tussling their hair with heated fingers. In their ears it whispers: come find me, I've been waiting.
You leave to the sea, as your mother always feared. She's inconsolable at the dock. You laugh to keep from crying, and wipe away her tears with the back of a small hand. She makes you promise to look out for yourself. Don't dive into the sea, she warns you with furrowed brows. Don't be impulsive. Don't head straight into storms. They forgive no one. You brush her worries aside with a kiss on her temple, before you bolt aboard the ship.
Several adventures later, you're aboard the Whitebeard Pirates ship. You offer your knowledge and skills in medicine; pair it with a big bright smile and hope for the best. Lady Luck favors you, beckons you with curling fingers. Another nurse is just what their ship needed—at least for now. Marco takes good care of you. He is patient, and kind. He is also easy on the eyes. It doesn't take long before you're being saddled with responsibilities.
You try your best, thinking your experience in wound care is your strongest skill among a ship of pirates. You did not share their strength, and undying courage but you did have wit, and you have a sharp tongue. You wielded them when necessary, the edge of your words a sharp scalpel. If you throw your words out fast enough, hard enough to kick up some dust they might not call you on your bluff. Compared to them, you couldn't help but feel like a soothing passing wind; barely noticed before you were gone, no impact, no trace left behind.
His entrance is violent, and eruptive. His presence disturbs the way of things, sending invisible critters scattering to seek refuge. You think you feel suffocating heat when you first see him. Portgas D. Ace is a forest fire at full flame, determined to devour everything, before you even noticed a spark. His eyes incinerate everything he glares at, thick brows furrowed together for so long you fear they are glued that way. Where his crew seemed agreeable even, accepting of their fates, he grew more restless by the day. You had to admire his tenacity. The sheer force of destruction his willpower possessed was alluring; dangerously seductive.
When he tries to take Whitebeard down for the 11th time, Marco is sick of it, and delegates you to the task. You swallow thickly, avoiding his gaze. You think Ace must not be a man of many words, as conversation is clipped and forced. It was just as well. The task was distracting enough. You try to remind yourself to keep your fingers moving as they brush over his skin when you apply antiseptic to gashes on his chest. He hisses, forcing your eyes up and away from the freckles you had been counting. His eye are dark pools that pull you into their depths, so deep you think they're bottomless. In your mind, your mother's warning echoes.
Don't dive into the sea.
You blink, and look away, feeling heat spread across your cheek; splotches of shame kept in secret. You try to focus instead, on the gauze on your hand, the warmth of his body under your fingers when you press it against his open wounds. You look up through your lashes when you apply pressure, wondering if a day would come when he didn't seem so closed off—so intriguingly unavailable. His jaw is set, teeth clenched so tightly all the time, you had half a mind to inspect his molars for cracks. His eyes flicker towards you and you pretend to inspect the bruise on his temple. You press a tentative finger against it, wondering if you could dip your fingertips into his thoughts that way. When he flinches, you move back to the gauze, wrap his wounds with soft bandage.
Your hands on his chest, you feel heat radiate from him, feel his heart beating steadily underneath. A heart never lied, each beat a tell tale sign. You try to listen closely to each secret told in a pulse against your palm.
Don't be impulsive.
You were never good at listening to your mother. Your mouth was quicker than your mind; traitorous and vile.
“Why do you keep fighting, if you can't win?” you ask him, slapping the bandages for good measure; assuring they stick, and assuring your message goes through. Ace flinches, and reaches for your wrist. His grip is strong, thick fingers wrapping around the width of your wrist. For a fleeting moment, you know you should fear him. You have seen what he's capable of, but the heat from his hand melts away all preconceived notions.
“Sometimes,” he says blinking down at you. His brows are furrowed together—they always are. You see his adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows. His thumb brushes once against the inside of your wrist. You think you hear a call—someone shouting from the sea. “Sometimes, you fight anyway. If it means protecting people you care about.” He lets you go, and you instinctively pull back, bringing your arm to your chest. He watches you fuss over your wrist momentarily before closing his eyes. He looks pained, and before you can offer him painkillers he's speaking again: “Maybe it's all I know how to do.”
II – The Depression : A Flickering Flame
He didn't mind at first, but now it felt like he shouldn't be there.
He shouldn't be sitting on the edge of the thin mattress of the nurses station. He shouldn't stand still when your short fingers tentatively palpated his injuries. He shouldn't watch you, like a seagull over water, searching—praying, as your teeth sank into the plushness of your bottom lip.
There was so much he should and shouldn't do, he no longer could keep it together. Ignoring you seemed like the right decision. It should have been easy. You were the enemy, if he wanted to be fastidious about it. A member of the Whitebeards Pirate was just someone else standing in the way of his goal. Most of all, his pride couldn't stand it. It couldn't stand the disappointed look in your dark eyes, and the way your mouth would twist into a little smirk when he would walk in. It couldn't stand the way you would immediately retract from him at the slightest hint of discomfort, how you would look at him like he was a wounded bird, wings teared at the joints, unable to fly again, sentenced to death.
It was pride that kept his mouth sealed shut. It was pride that stapled his tongue to the roof of his mouth. He wished pride would leave him blind instead. He wished to not notice how soft your hands are, how small and cute your hands were against his chest. He wished to not notice how he becomes disgustingly interested in your short chubby fingers, and wonders what kind of reaction he'd get if he could nibble on one or two. He wished to not notice how obsessive his thoughts are over the appearance of your skin; golden, and glowing on the apples of your cheek—how soft they looked. He wished he didn't think about it at night, when darkness wrapped her arms around him tightly. He wished he didn't think about your lashes, the look you give him through them that fills his mind with smoke.
Racing thoughts, and a racing mind. It took everything in him to keep them quiet. Your voice is soft when you speak, and his lips part, a beating heart trying to scream but no sound comes out. His cheeks feel hot, and he swallows awkward conversation prompts down. He chooses, instead, to fix his thoughts on something else, something more urgent: like how to defeat Whitebeard.
He simply couldn't afford to dawdle with you. Ace never thought twice on taking on a challenge, but you were a chasm he couldn't bring himself to jump across. If he missed, the fall could be deadly. He blinks when you speak again, your eyes fixated on his face. Ace quirks his left brow, and thinks he's offended you. He wants to speak quickly, heart beating against the sinew and bone keeping it prisoner, but the words tangle in his throat.
The door creaks open, and Marco walks in. You look away from Ace and smile at Marco, before forcing two round white pills into the crook of Ace's palm.
“Make sure you take those,” you tell him, as you force his fist closed. “You hit your head pretty good.” You reach up to rap your knuckles against the side of Ace's head lightly. “Gotta try to save whatever brain cell's are left fighting for their lives in there.”
Marco laughs as you stand up. Ace hears you chuckling lightly, as it grows into laughter. He takes a sharp breath through an open mouth, watches you as you turn to look at him over a shoulder.
He wishes pride would hurry the fuck up and blind him. He wishes it so bad, he crushes the pills in his fist into dust.
The sight of your ass stretching the nurse's uniform fills him with a heat he's not very familiar with. It settles at the pit of his stomach, and he stares at the door even after you leave. It isn't until Marco speaks that he brings himself back to the present.
“Why don't you join, Ace?” Marco asks, as he settles on the stool you were sitting on moments prior. Ace frowns down at it, annoyed at his thoughts—he wondered if it was still warm, and he hated that Marco would know the answer. “You know, it's not a bad deal. He treats us like his sons. We're all a little lost out here, kid. You don't have to be alone.”
Ace scoffs, mouth twisted into a crooked smile. He tilts his head as he watches Marco, trying to swallow the bitterness in the back of his mouth. His heart lurches, and he shuts his eyes. If he closes them tightly enough, perhaps the hopeless dream will go away. He never had a father figure, and never needed one. It was a lie he recited at night; a prayer to a faceless God.
“I don't need a father,” he mumbles at last, picking at a string on one leg of his shorts. Marco laughs. Ace looks up, frown back in place.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Marco agrees, reaching up to rub the back of his head. “But why don't you try? What do you got to lose? It's not like you have any manners.” Ace begins to protest but Marco's laughter caught him off again. “And you might learn how to properly talk to a lady.”
Ace thinks his head might start catching fire. He pats his hair quickly.
“I don't need any help with that!” he says loudly, an elbow digging into a thigh as he leans forward to scowl at Marco.
“Oh, yeah?” Marco says trying to keep his laughter at bay. His smile is crooked, and insufferable. “Is that why you looked like a fish gaping for air when I walked in? Very convincing.”
Just when Ace thinks there is no way he could be more embarrassed, he feels his blush deepening, freckles almost obfuscated. He promises Marco to think about it, and he does his best, but thoughts of you plague him afterward. Your laughter that carried in the wind to him, the way it felt like it sank into his scars, the way it burned and made new ones in return.
III – A Simmering Storm
The needle on his back, sinks into his skin time and time again, embedding ink to stay forever. It is liberating, in a sense, marking himself with a brand of his own choosing. So much unlike the one stamped upon him at the time of his birth; the son of a monster, a nuisance, someone not worthy of the space they took up in the world. No longer did he have to search for reason, or an excuse. Ace could simply be, and he welcomed his newfound drop of happiness with a toothy grin.
A celebration at him joining the ranks, and being able to be commander of the second division seemed a bit over the top but he liked merriment—and the food and alcohol was too enticing. The darkening clouds in the distance threatened to dampen his mood, and the crowd on the deck of Moby Dick. Murmurs spread the word of an oncoming storm but nobody seems particularly worried. The only thing on their mind is how fast they could drink and eat before they got rained out.
The only thing on your mind was the blooming ache in your chest. You try to soothe it with a hand, smearing your palm against your voluminous chest. The crop top is soft under your skin. You try to memorize this, instead of the radiant smile on Ace's face. He had never seemed so undoubtedly happy as he did now. A different feeling settled between your ribs, a pang so bitter it causes you to hiss. Jealousy was a monster you squashed down with angry fists every time you saw one of the nurses place a hand on Ace's bicep. You never thought you would have to beat it down into submission while picturing the face of your own captain.
You're happy for him, truly. You mutter to yourself, over and over, drink after drink. You're elated, even, that he has finally come to accept the bright side of things. You're happy that he has been given a position that you feel is well earned, one that you hope he can excel at.
You're happy for him. You really are.
You're so fucking happy it hurts to breathe. You force another deep breath into your lungs, the air is humid and the scent of rain floods your senses. You blink back the wetness in your eyes, and when Marco asks if you are okay you blame pollen. Marco tilts his head, but chooses not to pursue the subject. Instead, he swaps your empty cup with his. You barely notice. You're too busy thinking about where the sea will take Ace next.
Something in your chest seizes—panic, or fear. It rises like heat from the ground, a crackling electricity flying up through the stale air that keeps you trapped on the ground. You try not to move too much, you fear jostling your thoughts, fear that if they move too much—touch a certain way, sparks would fly, singing you to a crisp; charred and useless.
He is happy, truly.
It wasn't something he could have ever dreamed of or imagined. He smiles as people congratulate him. Alcohol tastes sweet on his heavy tongue. He barely tastes his food as he pummels it into his mouth. He pictures what it would be like, sailing away from this ship, to complete tasks he would be responsible for. He pictures what it would be like to tend to his own wounds, what it would be like to sit at whatever island he found, and not hear your laugh.
He is happy. He really is.
He's so fucking happy, he thinks he feels sick. It's not anxiety. Ace could never admit that. Anxiety over what? He did not fear death. He never had a good reason for living anyway. You could only fear death if you were bound to the living. Then what was binding him to this ship? It felt like a vortex, a cone ensnaring him and trapping him to his spot; a gust of wind that kept bringing him back to you, no matter how many times he moved around this damned ship.
He tries moving again, taking his mug of beer with him. You bump into him with your ass against his. He turns around, ready to pick a fight but sees your heated cheeks instead. You mumble an apology that he laughs off. His hand moves before he controls it, and he ruffles your hair—something he knows you loathe.
“I'm not a puppy,” you hiss, pursing your lips. Ace drinks quickly from his mug, to refrain from sighing.
“Then why do you look like one?” he asks you, and leaves through the crowd. You lose track of him quickly, and decide to stomp around on the spot. It was easier than to think about the way he had looked at you, and how it had set your face on fire.
You do your best to mingle. You notice he does the same, but you're never far from each other. It feels comical in a strangely annoyingly tragic way. When you squeeze between Thatch and Izou to refill your cup, your hand brushes against something warm. You follow the hand to see Ace's tattooed bicep. When your eyes meet, thunder splits the sky. You move quickly, wordlessly, determined not to see his face against for the rest of the night.
The sea has other plans. The ship begins to move more than usual, and your legs still not quite so strong, threaten to have you rolling over. You blame the alcohol of course, when you land on Izou's back. He steadies you with a tight smile as you giggle, and spins you in place trying to send you in the opposite direction but your eyes meet Ace's again. The ship lurches, and you stumble forward. His body is warm, and inviting, you giggle at the ridiculous situation—as people continue to bump into each other mid-party. You try to move again, but your legs betray you. His arms hold you up, and brings you closer to him. Your body is soft against his, plush and delightful. You look up at him with a tiny small, eyes hazy from the alcohol, and Ace swears he hears the sky split open.
You're on your way again before he can say anything else. It was probably for the best. He loses track of how much he drinks. He could still feel his face, could still keep track of his thoughts—filled to the brim with you, and concludes he clearly hasn't drunk enough. He holds on to this as he grips the railing so tight, it cracks under his fingers at the sight of you with Marco.
Marco was so kind, and so friendly. His hands were soft around your waist. You know it was shameful, to giggle at all his silly little jokes, but the alcohol has you feeling weightless—for once. You almost don't feel the wind against your cheeks, you don't feel it whipping your hair around. You let Marco pull you closer, his hand pressed against the small of your back. It was better this way. It was better Marco than a ship sailing to a destination unknown.
He drops the mug of beer. It splashes on the deck, and he feels liquid splash against his knee. Ace clenches a fist as he moves, fire erupting from his knuckles before it swallows his hand whole. Drops from the sky grow heavier. They sizzle as they reach his wrist, little wispy vapor rising from the flames like warning flags. Ace breathes through his nose and wills himself to smother the flames. They die out by the time he reaches you, but there's a fire in his chest, flames behind his eyes he can't control.
The sight of Marco's hand very comfortable in the small of your back almost threatens to set him on fire again. Marco's mouth is so close to your ear, Ace thinks he must smell the lotion off your skin the same way he smelled it off you so many times before; the one that always drove him mad, who forced him to imagine tropical islands, to dream of coconuts and beaches, of you and sandy dunes. Your smile takes his breath away, and when he sees it's aimed at Marco it fills his lungs with lead instead. Your lashes flutter, and Ace sees a drop of water fall and cling to the apple of one your cheeks. He follows its path until it rolls off from your jaw.
As the last rays of light glints on the surface of it, a spark goes off.
His hand is around your wrist. Marco moves away slightly, only pulling away to look at Ace with a quizzical expression. His smile is frozen in place as he tries to assess the situation. He laughs, and naturally Ace feels like he should punch him in the mouth for it. Marco looks over to you, to pull a response from you when he begins to talk but your eyes are nowhere near on him. You are too focused on Ace's face instead.
You zone in on the arch of his left eyebrow, the narrowing of his dark eyes, the slight curl of his top lip. Rain starts pouring down. You watch rivulets of water streak down the side of his face. You try to breathe as he watches you, try not to think about his fingers wrapped around your wrist but you can't stop yourself from wanting to know. You want to know what it means. You want to decipher that look in his eyes, the dark clouds forming, the way you think you see lightning.
Your mother's words ring one more time. Don't head straight into storms.
A gust sweeps you off your feet, a dream so airy and full of promises you think you can fall forever if it meant he'd look at you this way for another breath, and another.
IV – The Hurricane
It wasn't enough.
He could consume every drop of alcohol aboard the Moby Dick, pour into his mouth ounce after ounce like his life depended on it, and it still wouldn't be enough.
There's nothing, not a sobering thought, not the lightning in the sky, not the dark clouds in the distance, that could free him from the hold you have on him. Your eyes are so big and round you remind him of the softness he hated in himself, the same he tried to strangle with his own hands. In you, it only made him want to kiss you. Right there. Right now. Ace swallows down the last of his apprehensions. He tightens his grip around your wrist, and thinks everyone and everything could go to hell and stay there. If he caused a scene by dragging you away, he simply did not care.
Nature had other plans. The wind picks up, the sea fights back. Waves rise, and rock the Moby Dick—a feat that's not as easy as it sounds. Marco gives you one last look before he scrambles away, shouting orders to the crew. They desperately climb to close the sails, but you can't finish watching them work. Ace drags you away from the deck, down a path you're ashamed to be familiar with.
In his room, he finally lets you go and you stumble forward with momentum. You hear the door close, and a lock click. You spin around belatedly, trying to keep your arms from swinging too much and losing your balance to see Ace's back pressed against the door.
He watches you from where he stood, hair soaked through. His raven curls are slicked against his forehead, so he runs a large hand through his hair, pushing it back and away from his face. He can't be bothered to find his hair a nuisance. Not when you're standing in front of him, wet from head to toe. You're out of your nurses' uniform, something he is not used to seeing. Your hair is lose and partially wet, wavy tendrils sticking to your cheeks and shoulders. Your round face looks precious, he swallows as he fights the urge to cradle it in his hands. Your wide eyed expression forces a chuckle out of him, one he tries to hide on the back of one hand.
He notices belatedly, and with a little remorse, the slight blue tint on your bottom lip and the redness on your cheeks. Your eyes are hazy, heavy lidded, and he tilts his head at you, dopey smile on his face.
“You were having fun,” he mentions, eyes trailing away from your cheeks to your torso, the dips on your sides that make your waist. The soft rolls that settle there make him want to touch you. He raps his knuckles on the door behind him instead, fingers tapping without rhythm; anything, and everything to keep himself controlled, especially at the sight of your wide hips, the thickness of your thighs.
“Yeah, I was actually,” you finally find your voice to speak. You swallow with difficulty, slapping a hand against a thigh, over your wet jeans. “Anyway,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose. You should stay focused. You do your best, but the sight of Ace's bare chest reminds you of how warm he is and how frigid your fingers currently are. You'd love to warm them up right now, skim them over his toned abs. “Why did you do it?”
“Do what?” he asks you quietly.
“Drag me here. Can't you see?” you start, licking your lips, feeling very very parched when you follow the small trail of hair beginning at the bottom of Ace's belly button, and disappearing underneath his shorts. “I have working legs!” You make a show of lifting each one, one at a time, and pointing obnoxiously. “See? Perfectly healthy.”
“Yeah,” he agrees, pushing away from the door. He walks slowly towards you, steps hesitant and careful. His eyes roam over your body. You watch him drag his gaze from the top of your head, to your feet, and back up again at an excruciatingly slow pace. Your heart accelerates, and it thunders in your ears. “You're perfectly healthy,” his voices comes in softer now that he's standing in front of you. “I can see that.” Ace hands wrap around the roundness of your shoulders. He slides them down slowly from the short sleeves of your crop top, thick callused fingers skimming along the back of your plush and soft biceps. Your skin is soft, tantalizing. It feels as if he shouldn't touch you. It feels sinful, something he has no privilege to but he continues anyway, down to your wrists until his fingers grip yours gently. Ace tightens his hold on your hands and pulls you closer to him.
He wraps your arms around his waist. You don't fight him. You move; a leaf carried in the wind. Your fingers grip around his belt loops, as he dips his face to the crook of your neck. His hot breath fans against your skin, when he drops the softest kiss—his lips, or the wind, you're not sure. He nuzzles the exposed skin, using his nose to move the neckline of your crop top as much as he can to drop more soft kisses. You're colder than he expected, so he holds you tighter, until your softness fills all his hard edges and gaps. Your curves are a pleasant surprise. He had expected some of it from the way you filled the skirt of your uniform but seeing you out of it had been a vision he shouldn't be worthy of.
He shouldn't be worthy of any of it. He shouldn't enjoy the way your hips feel under his hands, but he still runs them over them up and down, over and over again. He shouldn't enjoy their width, the way the flesh caves under his grip, how his fingers dig deep and it still isn't enough to touch all of you. He shouldn't enjoy the way your skin feels so impossibly soft against his lips, as if it melts under his heat; snow under a sunny sky. He shouldn't enjoy the scent of your skin, the scent of your lotion that brings him to the brink of madness. He shouldn't enjoy the way you sigh his name when he sucks on your pulse, and grabs your ass. He shouldn't tell you the way he thinks no matter how much alcohol swims in his veins. He shouldn't tell you the way he feels, but words bubble up his throat and out his mouth—a freshwater brook whose source he can't define.
“You feel so good,” he moans against your ear, when he pushes his hips forward. Your eyes flutter at the feel of his erection against the softness of your belly. “I love touching you, Mermaid.” The nickname usually bothers you; given in passing because you loved swimming in the sea despite the dangers, but from his lips it feels like a spoken song; a poem only for you. “You smell so good,” he licks the shell of your ear, bites on the sensitive cartilage on top. You gasp, and dig your nails into his back, desperately holding on to whatever was left of your self preservation. “Do you know how sick I was?” He thinks he should punish you, and so he does, nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck. You yelp, and slap his back but it doesn't deter him. He smiles against your skin, licks the blooming bruise with a flat and sloppy tongue. “When Marco's hands were all over you. I thought I was going to burn. I couldn't stand it. I couldn't stand a second of it.”
His words sound desperate. You try to stay present by drawings circles on his back with your fingertips. The storm screams outside the room. You hear the wind pick up its shrill song, tinny and distant. Water pelts against the small circular window on the door, a drumming sound that soon grows deafening.
“Ace,” you try to interrupt his rambling, but his hands are tangled in your hair. His lips brush against your temple, before he speaks against your head.
“I felt sick watching you. It felt like I was in pain,” he groans into your hair. His hips press against you again. You bite down on your lip hard enough to inflict pain. You rub circles on his back, and force yourself to focus once more. His words come in belatedly, sound traveling a long distance in the air. You press your small hands against his chest.
“Where does it hurt?” you ask him, brows furrowing together. Leave it to Ace, to be injured in a moment like this. You shake your head, not sure to trust yourself or his words. You should have drank less. You should have stayed away from Ace. You should have left with Marco instead. Ace presses his forehead against yours. His breath tickles your nose. He moves his hand over yours. His fingers clutches your hand, and warmth seeps from him to you. You feel it sink it, seep into the rest of your arm and down to your elbow leaving a tingling sensation.
“Here,” he breathes out in a whisper. He squeezes your hand, presses it closer to his chest. “In here.” He pats your hand once, and again, repeatedly in a rhythm that matches his heart beating under your palm. Ace moves slowly, and gently brushes his nose against yours. His heart beats faster under your hand. Your eyes are tethered to his mouth. You can't look away from the sight of his lips parting, as if he couldn't catch his breath. You feel your mouth do the same, feel the air in your lungs run out; breathing is not enough, nothing is enough. His head tilts, and you follow his lead; reflections on still water.
“Idiot,” you finally whisper, a breathy laugh bouncing away from your mouth. He feels it reach his lips, and he swallows it whole in his mouth. “You mean your heart?”
“Yeah,” he admits fighting a smile, his lips brushing against yours. “My heart.”
You should laugh it off. You shouldn't take him seriously. A drunken confession would be forgotten the moment the sun rose again but there is a screaming in the back of her mind—distant and ancient like Sirens on rocky shores. The storm grows louder outside. You had always thought you were a serene passing wind, something to soothe and lick old wounds better; something to be forgotten once you left, but the heat of Ace's breath against your mouth, spun around you in circles. It transformed you into something bigger than you thought you could be. You wanted to be bigger. You wanted to be something destructive, something that would tear him from limb to limb, leave him with the wreckage of your path so he could have something to remember you by when he was gone.
You reach out, hands seeking a target. You clasp his face as you smash your mouth against his. He hums into the kiss. It's clumsy and forceful. You leave him no room to push back, no gap to slip his tongue past your defenses. It isn't until he is grabbing fistfuls of your ass to pull you closer to him, to rub his bulge against your belly once more that you concede. You gasp, and it's the only weakness he needs to exploit. His tongue strokes against yours, hunger forcing him to be overzealous. He is sloppy, and imprecise, kisses so wet saliva coats your lips, making them shiny under the yellow sconce's lights of the room. Ace knows he should slow down, show a little finesse but your ass feels divine in his hands. He had been watching it the whole time during the party, watched you saunter back and forth, hips swaying; teasing him.
He moves against you, and you step backwards, the ship swaying enough to make you forget your route. You land against the wall with a thud, your plush ass making you bounce slightly in Ace's embrace. He laughs against your mouth, nipping at your bottom lip. “Nice,” he mumbles before he takes your bottom lip for a long and noisy suck. “It's like a safeguard.”
You groan, hands traveling down the wideness of his back, and over his shorts. They settle over his ass, and you return the favor, digging your fingers into the muscle. He groans loudly, pushes his hips immediately against yours and grinds against your lower belly. The smell of wine on your mouth threatens to intoxicate him further. He closes his eyes as he pushes against you, feeling precum starting to soak through his underwear. Your tongue feels perfect in his mouth. He sucks on it time and time again, taken in by the sheer softness of it. How it doesn't feel unfamiliar at all, as if he had kissed you thousands of times before.
He wished he had kissed you that many times already. He wished he could tuck away those memories somewhere no one could take them away from him.
Every time he kisses you, it feels like dying, and it feels like coming back to life. You've died hundreds of times already, hundreds of little deaths by his hands and by every stroke of his tongue. You think you smell smoke in his hair when he holds you close, when he whispers sweet things in your ear before biting down your neck, leaving a trail of bruises in his wake. His hands are weapons he uses to tear your down. Their heat eviscerates all your defenses. It kills you how they feel so hot, even over your clothes. How when he drags his palms over your belly, you want to feel them lower, towards the center of your legs. Your belly is soft, and pliable, he squeezes and kneads until he memorizes it. His hands move to your sides, where he grips the soft flesh, the rolls that are tender in his hold.
Your cheeks color, and your heart flutters. Embarrassed, you swat his hands, and move them away from your waist.
“Don't push my hands away,” he says annoyed, going back to grab your sides. “Before I--”
You cut him off with a kiss, pressing your mouth hotly against his. You wrap your arms around his neck. “Shut up,” you say breaking the kiss. You kiss the corner of his mouth, and up his jawline. “If you say it—I'll leave.” You press your mouth against his pulse, and a soft spot behind his head. “I'll walk out right now. Don't even say it.”
He kisses you, and you crumple under the weight of it. It feels like a last desperate attempt at silencing you, at keeping you here with him. His heart is in tatters. He tries to ignore the debris of it, the way it splinters off into pieces. Ace deepens his kisses, crushes you against his chest, and traps you tightly between him and the wall. He knows the truth. He knows the more he kisses you, the more he'll discover all the things he wondered about you, the more he'll become familiar with your softness—the more he'll miss you. A feeling of unworthiness crawls out of a well. He tries to smother it with another kiss, one you moan into. You bring a leg up and he holds on to it, hooks it around a hip and pushes against you, his cock feeling painfully hard. He thrusts his hips, and he tries to forget every touch of your fingers on his back, how your trail them along his muscles, leaving memories in them he could never forget, memories you shouldn't give him so willingly.
He should be the one to walk out without a further word. If it hurt you, it would mean you'd never look at him again. That was the right thing to do. He should let you go immediately. He should stop craving the heat of your body. He should stop pushing against you, and moaning into the crook of your neck, giving into every desire and fantasy that had filled his body since he met you.
He should. But he couldn't stop himself from being selfish. Just this once. For once, he wants to seize a semblance of happiness by his own hands without needing a reason for it—without needing a reason to simply exist.
Ace brings you to his bed, pushes you down until you're seated on the edge of his mattress. He kneels before you. You blink, mouth surprisingly dry considering all the wet sloppy kisses Ace had been giving you. You lick your swollen lips, and think you taste beer in the corner of your mouth; residual of Ace's conquest. Ace kisses your cheeks—one at a time. He reaches around you to the bow holding your crop top together. He unties it easily, and just as easily pulls it over your head. You don't know where it lands, and it honestly doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is the way Ace's eyes land on your breasts, the way he licks his lips as if he's gearing up for a feast.
He wasn't expecting you to not a have a bra, but he couldn't complain either way. Once again, he is amazed at his sheer stupidity. How he had never noticed the size of your breasts, how large they were and how beautifully they hanged from your frame. He swallows thickly, wishing he had done this sooner. He presses his mouth against the middle of your chest, hands tentatively taking in the weight of your breasts. He palms them gently, cupping and lifting as he moves his fingers. His intentions are well meant. Ace would love to take his time with you, but you react so deliciously when he flicks his thumbs over your hardened nipples, mewling against the top of his head that he felt like he had no choice.
If his hand felt like furnaces, his mouth is incomparably vicious. The heat of his tongue is paralyzing. When he sucks on a nipple, his free hand twisting the other one between thumb and index finger, your toes curl. Your panties cling to your folds, covered in your slick since earlier. You whimper, embarrassed and aroused as Ace continues his streamlined assault. His teeth leave marks over the swell of your breasts. You respond to every lick and nibble he gives. Your soft moans leave goosebumps on his skin, reminding him that this is him making you moan, him who has you scraping your nails against his scalp.
He shouldn't—but he smiles—thinking Marco can go kick rocks. He bites down on a nipple, a bit too hard, at the thought. He should mark you more, lest anyone get any ideas.
And like that, his heart aches. Ace sighs against the side of your breast, licks over a bruise in apology. He shakes his head, trying to dislodge thoughts that had no business polluting his mind. He wonders what would happen if he leaves you for too long. Would you move on? His fingers stumble to unbutton your jeans so he tries again. Of course, you would. Who wouldn't? Marco seems to like you, and what's not to like about Marco?
Desperate, he finally unhooks the button. You fall back on the mattress with a surprised squeak when he pushes you. Ace tugs your jeans off. You see him standing between your legs, as he unbuckles his belt, and drops his shorts. You hear the thud on the ground, the creak of the mattress as he joins you.
He cages you in, and you immediately reach out. Your fingers splay against his broad chest. His shoulders are wide, and strong, muscles rippling with every movement he makes. The yellow lighting of the sconces compliment the golden tone of his skin. You bite your lip, and rub your legs together, deeply aroused when you brush your fingertips against his muscular abs. Lightning strikes, and bathes him in a flashing white light. You see for a moment, every freckle on his shoulder, and chest. You run your fingers over them, connecting the dots, making up little galaxies on his chest and shoulders and committing them to memory. You'd remember these later, on lonely nights, and hold your hand to the ceiling, pretending that if you trace over the memory of them you could bring Ace back to you like a spell; like a wish.
His kisses scatter your thoughts, little stars clouding your vision. His mouth is on your neck, and on your chest. Heated, and wet. He leaves hot wet trails of saliva wherever he goes, coating you with his smell. He kisses your belly, and nibbles on the soft flesh underneath your belly button. His fingers dancing over your thighs. Ace moves lower as you hum, parts your legs to drop kisses on the inside of your thighs. For a split second, you consider being embarrassed at the state of your arousal but you are past the point of caring. Soaked right through your panties, all you want is for Ace to keep kissing you.
He smells you before he sees it—before he sees the big wet spot in your underwear. Ace chuckles, and you reach out to swat at his head but he is faster than you—as usual. He grabs your wrist and kisses the inside of your palm.
“Don't be like that, Mermaid,” he says in a good mood, smile wide and crooked. He looks up at you through black lashes, a faint flush over his cheeks. “I know how much you love being wet.”
You think about screaming, and beating him senseless for saying something so embarrassing but when he pulls your panties down in one quick move you are left speechless. Just as quickly, his mouth is on your pussy. He gives long, meticulous licks; ones he uses to slurp up every drop of your arousal. He uses his fingers to part your folds, and traces your slit with the flat of his tongue. Your back arches, and you moan loudly, hands flying to tangle in his black curls. He is noisy, but he does not miss a spot. He slurps up a lip, sucks on it gently. He flicks his tongue around your sensitive nub, making you shiver and tremble.
Just when you think you can't take the heat of his mouth any longer, Ace pulls your lips apart again, and slips his tongue inside your aching pussy. He thrusts it in and out, upping the pace the more you moan. He slurps up, wet and noisy to suck on your clit. His fingers tease your entrance before he slips two inside you. He scissors his fingers inside, the squelching so loud and lewd, you're forced to slap a hand to cover your mouth. It is sinful, and you wonder if you should worry when you grow hornier the louder the wet sounds get. He curves his fingers, seeking out that spot that makes your toes curl. His moans against your clit as he sucks vibrates against you, and you cry out as you cum. Your pussy flutters around his fingers as you reach your peak, little tremors running their course throughout your body.
The way you look so disheveled makes him want to stay down there longer. He'd love nothing more than to feast on your pussy all night long, but his throbbing cock is becoming increasingly harder to ignore. He moves to climb over you, but the ship tilts when a particularly large wave comes. Ace sways, but you reach out to grab him by the arm before he rolls off the bed. You pull him towards you, and laugh at Ace's shocked expression. He laughs with you for a moment, before it dies out. Your eyes captivate him—their sparkle too bright to be dimmed by the yellow lighting of the room, or even by the darkness of the storm outside the room. Ace kisses your cheek, and licks your ear. He laughs into your hair when you yelp, and hit his shoulder with a tiny fist, your own laughter overtaking his.
“Your laughs always carries so easily,” he says quietly, a hand brushing hair away from your face. You wrinkle your nose up at him. “You know that? I always hear you wherever I go.”
There's a breath that refuses to come back to you. It stays there behind Ace's smile. You swallow, following the path of his trail of dark hair that starts at his belly button. You grip the tip of his cock gently, and watch his brows knit together, teeth clenching to keep from moaning. You brush a thumb against his slit. His lips part, eyes fluttering close, and as you squeeze your hand down his shaft, he lets go; a moan flying past the front of his teeth. He is thick in your hands. You move them gently at first, taking in the sight of him above you. His dark hair spilled around him like a curtain.
His eyes that he fights so hard to keep open but flutter close every time you squeeze his pink tip just right. He cusses under his breath, upset he can't watch you jerk him off, how he can't keep the sight of your white teeth sinking into your berry colored bottom lip in his vision.
You are mesmerized by the sight of him. You try your best to commit to memory the planes of his face, the sharpness of his jawline. You rub your legs together as you stroke, enjoying the way your slick slides down your thighs. You love how vulnerable he looks, how soft his expressions is as he gives in to you, his dark lashes that flutter open and close, the freckles on the bridge of his nose; everything leaves their residue behind like sticky fingers on glass.
You feel his hand swat yours away from his cock. “Stop,” he whines in a hiss, eyes opening partially. He frowns down at you, cheeks bright red, mouth hanging open. “I don't want to cum like that. I want to cum inside you. With you.” There's no time to think, you feel him shift your legs, and feel the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance. He pushes inside you, slowly, inch by inch. Your mouth drops open, a sound that refuses to leave your body. When he bottoms out, you moan gently, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.
Your thighs are thick and plush as they tighten around his strong hips. Ace feels as he would be swallowed whole—like a small vessel in a raging sea. If you wanted to drown him, he'd let you, if that's what you really wanted. He grunts with every slow thrust of his hips, wanting to feel you first, let you adjust around him. He's only begun, but he feels you fluttering around his cock, senses the tightening of your grasp around his shoulders.
He picks up the pace, as the storm rages. You're panting against his hear, so loud that even the thunder can't drown you out when you moan. Lightning splits the sky, over and over, bathing your sweaty body underneath him in bright white. He tries to remember the pieces of you, the soft breasts pressed against his chest, the sight of his cock disappearing into your soaking pussy. He tries to remember the sound of the rain, how it compliments your voice when you sigh into his neck. He pushes against you faster, deeper, your moans grow closer and louder. The scent of rain and wet wood floods the room along with the scent of your arousal. Ace can almost taste it on his tongue all over again, as he breathes through his mouth, panting loudly—moaning when you clench around his cock again.
His cologne makes you delirious—mahogany, and sweet blossoms, or it's the thickness of his cock or both. You bite his neck, scream into the crook of his neck when he picks you up slightly by the hips, when he angles his thrusts and slaps his hips against yours viciously enough to bruise. His cock pushes against your gummy walls, stretching you out until it's almost painful. He is so hot and warm inside you, you feel like you're melting, as if your body is built by nothing but pleasure and pleasure alone. You bite his shoulders, leaving marks behind. Your attack is as relentless as his thrusts. You continue to sink your teeth into his shoulders, and his neck, you nibble at his jawline.
He loves it. He loves the pain you leave behind. Ace digs his fingers into your hair, and he tilts his neck to give you more access—anything to keep you going. He groans with every thrust into your pussy, his heavy balls slapping against your thick and plush ass so noisily he worries for a second someone might hear.
“Go ahead,” he whispers to you when you nibble on his neck once more, groaning right after. “Make it hurt.” It is a fitting punishment, he thinks. Pain always left the deepest scars. If it was you, he'd take the scars with him.
The wind picks up more, the shrill tinny scream rises, banging against the round window on his door. It pounds at the glass, demanding tribute. Ace cries out when your pussy clenches around his cock, his body tensing before it relaxes at his climax. He releases, spilling into you, hot cum that oozes slightly out of your cunt. You stay tangled with him in his bed sheets, lightning coloring your bodies in bright white every now and then. Heat envelops the room, a humidity so thick it feels suffocating; muggy. Your bodies covered in sweat, are slippery, almost uncomfortable but you don't care.
You don't care about the incessant heat beaming off his body, you don't care how his hair sticks to your skin when he nuzzles in your neck, you don't care bout the storm outside the door, the angry sea. You bring your hand to Ace's chest, feel his heart thumping against your palm. What you care about is there, under skin and bone, just out of reach.
You shut your eyes when he kisses your lips, when he holds your face in his hands.
Your mother's words cut through the screams of the hurricane outside. Don't head straight into storms. They forgive no one.
But who was the storm? Was it him? Was it you? Who's to forgive if there's no one left in the wake of the storm?
162 notes · View notes
fbfh · 2 years
Text
leo valdez dating hcs pt 2 <3
Wc: ~1k
Warnings: none??? I don't think???
Song rec: chateau lobby #4 (in C for two virgins) - father john misty bc I can't stop imagining dancing with him to this
A/n: I am embarrassingly in love with this man?????? Like what else am I gonna do besides write fics for him
Tags: @yesv01 @avashaye @perseajohnson @afidiofobia @thatmultifandomloser @yelenabel0vaswife @almostjollypizza @fictionalcomforts   @lizziebitch33   @jacksondeeznuts @justbookworm @urmum-xoxo @Asunnyhunny @dustyinkpages  @shellosisbae @anything-forourmoony @perseajohnson  @i-dont-remember-a-lot  @thatmultifandomloser @chasingpj @1dpjohoohp @yelenabel0vaswife @mystic-writings    @babiesimagines @fictionalcomforts   @lizziebitch33 @jacksondeeznuts @dreamerball @urmum-xoxo@Asunnyhunny
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If you don't have a collaborative playlist nearing 11 hours 
Now you do
Hit shuffle and listen to it 
It'll be confusing
There's no particular genre and it's SO all over the place
But as you listen to it you realize that every song either has a lyric that makes him think of you
Of what it feels like to hold you and kiss you and get texts from you
To be with you
Or they have a specific memory attached to them
Like the time your parents caught him climbing through your window 
Or the time you got wine drunk and danced in the kitchen to the same song on repeat for hours 
Sunrise from in the heights will ABSOLUTELY be on there 
For all the normal reasons but also cause it's his favorite musical 
It makes him think of teaching you words in Spanish 
Also god he just loves the way your voices sound when you sing it together 
I swear to god he's the most emotionally intelligent man on the planet 
He knows you so well 
He admires you like a renaissance painting 
He pays such close attention to you 
He can always tell when your vibe changes
When you're upset need to be cheered up vs when you're upset need to talk 
God he's such a goofball
He'll have you laughing and giggling and genuinely feeling okay before you even notice
Literally any time any kind of drama or tea happens
He's the first person you tell
And he’s so invested he knows all the details 
So when you're out together 
Or when he’s picking you up from work or school or whatever 
And you bump into someone he's been told a lot of stories about 
You would never know that he knows every detail about how their boyfriend kept checking out you and another person in their friend group so now they're always trying to start shit with you
He's so chill and diplomatic you'd never be able to guess
As soon as you leave he's like "wow everything I've been told makes even more sense"
He laughs and holds your hand and swings it a little while you walk
I know I keep bringing this up
But I can confirm that he smells like method sandalwood and vetiver body wash and old spice Fiji deodorant 
I feel like his shampoo and conditioner are probably something by shea moisture 
So like cocoa butter and a little hibiscus 
He smells so good and his hands feel so nice on your skin when he touches you
And oh my god if you like having your hair played with??????
Any time it’s physically possible you’ll lay down with your head in his lap and he’ll play with your hair
Which feels amazing already 
But his hands specifically feel so fucking nice 
Brushing against your scalp and weaving through your hair
Also PLEASE teach him how to do your hair
He’ll get so fucking good at it you’d be surprised if you didn’t know him as well as you do
Like before you know it he’s reverse engineered hair styling and can do every kind of braid imaginable 
You never need to worry about the back of your head because he’s already taking care of it
And him helping you with your hair is so cute
Especially if you have natural hair and wear protective styles 
He’s like,, shockingly good at braiding
If you’re not into having your hair touched don’t worry
He’ll just trace little drawings and shapes on your arms and back instead
Or have you play with his hair
Either way definitely play with his hair
It feels delightful for both parties
His hair is so soft and fluffy 
Running your fingers through it and twirling his curls is the best feeling 
It’s so relaxing for him too
He thinks you could hypnotize him just by doing that for a few minutes 
Whenever you play with his hair it feels like he just left a weekend at a spa resort
That’s how relaxing you are 
How relaxing your energy is to him
And for real
He just loves your vibe and your energy and your aura so much 
It feels so comforting
So right
And the feeling is wholly and enthusiastically reciprocated
He has the best energy of anyone you’ll meet
Even just sitting next to him 
His presence is so comforting
You’re always relaxed around him
God you really do work well together
The two of you fit like a glove
And like,, it’s so obvious to anyone looking at you
That what you have is legit
And really really special
It’s not normal
Nothing about either of you is normal
But that’s what makes it so beautiful
Like anyone could take one look at you two together and tell it really is a love for the ages
And god you’re never better at practicing mindfulness than when you’re with him
You soak up every second you spend together, in utter adoration of each moment with him 
And FUCK he feels the same way about you
You can tell in those little moments
Like when you’re sitting together hanging out with friends
His arm is loosely around your shoulder and you laugh at the same time 
His hand comes up, thumb gently caressing your cheek
You look up at him and share a look so fully saturated with love you don’t even need to say it
How much you love each other
Cause you can tell
You tell each other all the time
Both verbally and silently 
And each one is so cherished
146 notes · View notes
eoos · 1 year
Text
MASTERLIST REC.
STRAY KIDS☁︎
(none of these fics were written by me, all credits go to the authors)
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OT8
☞ prom committee (by @silverlightqueen) genre : ot8!skz x reader highschool!smau, crack humour, angst, fluff
☞ Holding Their Little One for the First Time (by @deja-vux) genre : dad!straykids, fluff
BANG CHAN
☞ HIBISCUS (by @honeyvocalhwang) genre : fluff, slight angst, slice of life, humor 
☞ Myth (by @astraystayyh) genre : fluff, slight angst
☞ connected (by @cbini) genre : smut, best friend’s brother!chan, friends to lovers
☞ pieces of you (by @astraystayyh) genre : neighbors!au, fluff, angst, slow burn, mutual pining
LEE KNOW
☞ When Sparks Fly (by @dreamescapeswriting) genre : family au, non-idol au, single father au, best friends to lovers, fluff
☞ the enemies to lovers project (by @softukiyos) genre : oneshot, enemies to lovers, college au, slight angst, fluff 
☞ Mischief & Mistletoe (by @sunnytaes) genre : humour, fluff, college au, friends to lovers, (temporary) child acquisition, found family, christmas
 ☞ instead of you (by @sluttywonwoo) genre : eventual smut, best friend’s brother!lee minho x f!reader ft. han jisung
☞ boxer (by @latteseungs) genre : mutual pining, angst, fluff, best friends to lovers!au, boxer!au, fight for my way au, ft. boxer!changbin, boxer!felix, and hyunjin
☞ The only exception (by @astraystayyh​) genre : barista minho x reader, strangers to lovers, slow burn
CHANGBIN
☞ helping you at the gym (by @ballelino) genre : suggestive, sexual intercourse
☞ The alternative (by @astraystayyh​) genre : brother's best friend changbin x reader, fluff, slight angst
HYUNJIN
☞ experienced (by @ballelino) genre : smut, angst, fluff, f2l, slight sub/dom dynamics, kind of a slow burn
HAN
☞ as a friend (by @bbujiikseu) genre : fluff, smut, light angst
☞ kiss yourself (by @teasty) genre : angst, smut, fluff, fwb to lovers au 
FELIX
☞ If the world was ending (by @astraystayyh) genre : estranged childhood best friends to lovers, angst and happy ending
SEUNGMIN
☞ headfirst, fearless (by @inniejeonginnie) genre : fluff, pining, friends to lovers, a little suggestive 
I.N
☞ You're sexy I'm sexy (by @astraystayyh) genre : friends to lovers, pining and tension, mention of alcohol 
19 notes · View notes
wistfulcynic · 4 months
Note
3, 12, and 23?
3. favorite line/scene you wrote this year
favourite line, from On the Side of the World:
Crowley turned to the Metatron with a smirk so smug that if you murdered him for it no court in Creation would convict you. Aziraphale had never loved him more. “I believe the human expression for that is ‘hoist with one’s own petard',” he observed.  “Crowley,” said God, in a voice that was at once a pat on the back and a knife in it, “you always were too clever for your own damned good.”
favourite scene, from taking it slow:
Maybe he just doesn’t want me.  It’s an absolutely ridiculous notion given Stede’s very obvious suffering but Ed’s sexually frustrated too and it’s seriously messing with his capacity for rational thought. He’s been throwing himself at Stede for days now and Stede’s done absolutely fuck all about it and the only explanation Ed can come up with anymore is that Stede just doesn’t want to.  So much for I didn’t know it could be like that, he fumes, as he hammers nails into the roof with more force than is advisable, given the rickety state of said roof. So much for Oh, Ed you feel perfect. So much for the greatest sexual experience of Ed’s life, apparently it meant nothing at all to Stede. Apparently fucking Ed was so awful that Stede will go to just about any lengths to avoid doing it again.  He works himself up into such a lather with these thoughts that when he’s done on the roof and goes back inside, the sight of Stede’s welcoming smile tips him right over the edge.  “Oh there you are, Ed,” he says, “good. I wanted to ask you—”  “Mate, what the fuck?” Ed yells.  Stede’s brow knits in confusion. “What?” he says. “You know what,” Ed snaps back. Stede’s wearing a well-worn white shirt today, so thin and open at the collar he may as well be wearing nothing. Ed wants to lick him. Just lick up that little pool of sweat that gathers at the base of his throat. Lick his pecs, bite his nipples, suck his dick—fuck.  “I can’t do this anymore,” he growls. “I fucking won’t.”  “Do what?” Stede looks truly baffled. “Ed, what’s wrong?”  “What’s wrong?” Ed throws his hands in the air. “You’re asking me what’s wrong?”  “Yes, I am.” Stede stands and cautiously approaches. “Is there anything I can do?”  “Anything you can do?” Ed starts to laugh. “Is there anything you can do? Yes, Stede, there fucking is something you can do. You can fucking mean it when you say you love me.”  “I—”  “You can be honest,” Ed barrels on, ignoring his attempts to speak, “and tell me that I’m not enough for you and you hated having sex with me and you never want to fucking touch me again.”  “Ed—”  “And you can stop,” Ed continues, voice rising, “wearing those fucking shirts that leave your chest bare and smelling like clean sweat and the sea and hibiscus, some-fuckin’-how, and you can stop looking at me like you think I’m the greatest thing ever when you won’t fuckin’ just fuck m—”  He’s cut off by Stede’s lips on his, hard and ravenous. Before he can fully process what’s happening, Ed finds himself slammed back against the wall with such force the whole building shakes and kissed as though both their lives depend on it. As, very possibly, they do. 
12. favorite character to write about this year
this may be cheating but it's definitely Chad from On the Side of the World. He's an OC and if i'm honest he's just Bertie Wooster in a himbo suit but i have had so much fun writing him and the response from readers has been lovely.
23. fics you wanted to write but didn’t
this was kind of a slow year for me for fic writing, i took a long break which i really needed and also deleted a wip that i liked but was not rewarding to post. So i think all told i wrote what i wanted to write. However. i do have an idea for a continuation of taking it slow which would see Ed and Stede into the innkeeper era and beyond, an OFMD season three pre-write, effectively. Which is madness to contemplate considering i'm just finishing my Good Omens season three pre-write but no one ever said fic writers had any sense of proportion. So idk, maybe it will get written in 2024. It is a banger of an idea if i say so myself but ouf, it would be at least 60-80k and take forever.
thanks for playing!!
-
SEND ME AN END-OF-YEAR FIC ASK
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startrekfangirl2233 · 10 months
Text
WIP Tag Game!
Rules: Create a new post and share snippets/screenshots/etc. from three of your WIPs!  Art or Fic! Tag as many people as you like! (created by @limetimo)
Thank you so much to @a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all for the tag and sharing your WIPs. The Stripper and Jake fic? I cannot wait to read more of that!
Here are three of my active WIPs :
Sometimes All You Need (A Getaway Car) - Part 6: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
Sometimes All You Need (A Getaway Car) - Part 7: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
Money, Money, Money : Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
This is going to be long, so more after the cut!~
Sometimes All You Need (A Getaway Car) - Part 6: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
"You nearly died, Jake." You can't help how your voice breaks as you say that word.  "And?" He can't sound so matter of fact about this - like it is an everyday occurrence. Maybe it is - for him - but it's not for you. When you can't get your dry throat to cooperate, he continues.  "This is what you signed up for. I'm a Naval Aviator." He's breathing raggedly before he spits out, "Or did you forget that over the months we were apart? Did you forget that you'll never be my first priority? The Navy comes first. Flying comes first." You feel like a marionette with all of its strings cut at his words. You can't believe this is Jake, your Jake, saying the words - the man you love, who claims to love you. You've made him your top priority since he's been injured. You haven't even seen Callie since the squadron got back. Jake has been your only focus. His words also send rage flowing through your veins.
Sometimes All You Need (A Getaway Car) - Part 7: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
“Mama Georgie! Hi! Happy Thanksgiving!” You’re smiling from ear to ear as Jake kisses the side of your head. You grin as Jake’s mom tells you all about the Seresin family Thanksgiving spread. “Thanks for sending me your pie recipes, Mama Georgie! They went over a treat here. Twelve aviators and they ate every crumb. I made four pies!” You can’t even object when Jake snatches the phone from you to steal his mama for himself a little.  “Hey, mama! I’m missing all of y’all today. It’s not Thanksgiving if I’m not home. But thankfully my gorgeous girl was here and gave me a slice of home so I don’t miss you too badly.” Heat rushes through your system, settling hot in your chest like it always does when Jake calls you his.  It’s as you pull out the apple cider from the fridge which you’re planning on making on the stove that you hear Jake’s tone change. “Sir.” That one word is enough to capture your interest. Who in his family would Jake call sir? Not his brothers. His dad or his grandfather then.
Money, Money, Money : Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader
That's when you'd decided that turn-about was fair play. It's not an accident that the lounge chair you're on is right in view of the wheel. You start by sitting up and stretching, exaggerating the actions and how your tits jiggle with each movement. You can't read Jake's expressions from behind his mirrored lenses, but you know he's only looking at you. Which leads you to this very moment. You’ve been lying completely bare in the sun for close to an hour now. You turn over, reaching for the bottle of sunscreen and squirting some between your palms. The rich scent of coconut and hibiscus hangs heavy in the air as you warm the sticky lotion in your hot hands. You loll your head to the side, keeping direct eye contact with your husband as you cup your heavy breasts in your hands. You slather the lotion carelessly over your tits, pausing to tweak your nipples until your areolas are pebbled and your nipples are peaked even in the hot, heavy afternoon air. With more lotion in your hands, you let your hands trail teasingly lower. You trace abstract patterns across the meat of your thighs, keeping direct eye contact as you part your thighs teasingly. Each swipe draws your fingers even closer to the apex, your dripping core aching for more stimulation than you've gotten. That's the final straw for your husband, it seems. 
No Pressure Tags: @desert-fern, @cassiemitchell, @dakotakazansky, @cherrycola27, @roosterforme and anyone else who wants to join in!
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openheartfanfics · 10 months
Text
Bryce x F!MC: Pure Fluff
One Shot V - #
Valentine's Day Dinner - @eadanga 💘 Bryce asks Lauren to be his Valentine.
Valentine's Day Notes - @storyofmychoices 💘 Although it was Valentine's (Heart) Day, there was a lack of cardiac surgeries so Bryce occupied his time making this note for Olivia.
Vegas Adventures - @anotherbeingsworld  The rewrite of their trip to Vegas with an extra helping hand. BP x OH Crossover.
Victory - @kat-tia801  Prompt: I love it when [I/you/he/she/they/name] win(s).
Waiting - @storyofmychoices  The moment Bryce and Olivia have been waiting for is finally here and they’re more nervous than they expected.
Whatshisname - @julia-highstorms What if they met while Bryce was a bartender? 
‘We Accept the love, we think we deserve’ - @anotherbeingsworld High School AU
Weather The Storm - @fantasyoverreality98 They go on a vacation to Hawaii a few months after the attack on the Senator.
Wedding Toast - @omgjasminesimone   Keiki’s toast at their wedding. 
What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve - @lucy-268  🌟 Charley and Bryce were FWB; then she kissed Ethan in Miami. New Year’s Eve during intern year. Feat. Ethan x F!MC
What Happens In Vegas - @omgjasminesimone Light NSFW
What You Mean To Me - @god-save-the-keen Set after 2.11. 
What you need - @oofchoices  A fic about Bryce in pink. He also came knocking on the door because he had a patient that looked exactly like her.
When those period cramps call my name - @peonierose   Those stupid period cramps.
Whispers Of The Sea - @storyofmychoices  Bryce and Olivia enjoy a day at the beach.
Wild Blue - @peonierose   What do you do when your girlfriend says she’s going to do a photo shoot to support the ban of killing dolphins?
Winning - @storyofmychoices  Bryce and Olivia can’t seem to stay away from each other, even during an Edenbrook baseball game.
Wintery Prompt - @omgjasminesimone It’s cold outside. 
Wintery Prompt (Drunk Dryve) - @omgjasminesimone
Wish List - @storyofmychoices 🎄 Olivia is making a list and checking it twice of what she wants most this Christmas. Inspired by this post.
Words of Love - @peonierose   Bryce and Luna are excited to become parents.
Work Woes - @omgjasminesimone Feat. Lahela Siblings
Working Out - @lucy-268  Maggie joins ‘The Boys’ for a morning workout.
X Marks the Spot - @flowerpatchess   Bryce finds a voice that’s been haunting him for years. [1.2]
Yellow Hibiscus in Bloom - @aallotarenunelma This is Doctor's Day. How will Bryce and Kaisa will celebrate it?
Yes, Dr. Lahela - @annekebbphotography  He asks MC to be official. 
You Are The Sun - @doctorsurferbro Loving Bryce Lahela shouldn’t be this easy.
You don’t have to rush - @oofchoices  Even though Keiki’s living in his living room Bryce wants MC to leave some stuff at his place so she wouldn’t have to rush in the mornings.
You Make It Feel Like Christmas - @lucy-268 🎄 Bryce plans a fun game for Maggie for Christmas.
You are in love - @hannabanana-6 Bryce realises his feelings for Casey. An addition to the wedding in Open Heart book 3. [3.11]
You’re Invited - @appiomofchoice  Bryce invites his internal medicine friends to a housewarming/unpacking party. There is a slight miscommunication.
8 Letters - @anotherbeingsworld  Things you said that I wasn’t meant to hear.
#PlantLove - @storyofmychoices Olivia celebrates National Houseplant Appreciation Day.
_
SUBMIT OPEN HEART FICS & WRITERS HERE
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peonierose · 2 years
Text
”My love won’t let you down.“
Book: Open Heart
Rating: Fluff with a little bit of heartbreak.
Pairing: Soraya Auclair x Luna Auclair
Word count: 2,000+
Summary: Soraya got her heart broken and she’s being consoled by family.
Side note: All characters belong to Pixelberry, except my OC‘s.
Here’s the music that inspired me for this fic.
This story wasn’t pre-read, so please excuse any errors on my part. Please enjoy ☺️
Author‘s note: I’m participating in this weeks last @wackydrabbles - the prompt is ”This was really,really good.“ 🥺 and it will appear in color and bold. I wanted to thank you guys for making wacky drabbles this amazing. For continuously posting, reblogging, supporting writers and readers. Answering questions and the like. As sad as I am that this is the last wacky drabble, even though I wish I’d participated more, I’m glad I could be a part of it . 😍❤️ Hopefully there’ll be something similar as wacky drabbles coming and it’ll be as equally amazing as you guys. So thank you again 💚
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”If you're cold and alone when you wake
Making all of the same mistakes
When your heart's given all that it had
But they say they don't love you back
When the party's over and your friends have all gone
And you're wondering where it all went wrong
I'll come running when you call out my name
And it'll always be this way
I'll be there for you
No matter what you're going through
I'll be there with you
Anytime that you need me to
When there's no one else around
On your last breath, calling out
Trust me, my love won't let you down“
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It’s a beautiful Saturday morning. B and I are in the middle of driving to my aunt and uncle’s place to have breakfast with my cousins.
My uncle and my aunt went camping, while my cousins are staying at their parents place.
The blue sea is sparkling in the sunlight. While a summer breeze is wafting through our open Jeep. Letting in the salty wind, bringing with it a hint of hibiscus. I hang my head out the window and Bryce takes one look at me and laughs.
”You’re like a dog, all you need is your tongue hanging out to the side,“ he comments and takes a left turn.
I try it but only look ridiculous in the end.
”I wish my tongue was longer that way I could actually let it hang out like a little dog,“ I say sadly.
He shakes his head.
”This is officially the weirdest conversation that you and I had this far,“ he says and we get closer to my aunt and uncles place.
It’s this huge house that they’ve been looking for such a long time and when they finally found it they were over the moon.
It’s located close to the beach.
There’s a huge lawn, adorning the place. A two-story house, made out of wood on the outside and painted a marvelous jade green. Surf boards are leaned against the outside of the house.
Palm trees, and flower beds with vibrant colored flowers adorning their home.
My aunt even planted some herbs, vegetables and fruits in her own garden.
Bryce is parking the Jeep, while I get out and take the cookies with white chocolate chunks, macadamia nuts and fresh raspberries I made for later.
I balance them and Bryce walks around to take the box out of my hands.
I kiss him on him on his nose.
”Such a gentleman,“ I tease him and smile while we walk to the front door and knock.
”Oh I can be bad,“ he says his dark eyes twinkling in the sunlight.
”You can show me later,“ I say and kiss him just as the door opens.
”Don’t you have your own place where you can make out?“
Sky says annoyed.
”Love you too cuz,“ I say and Sky gives me a hug, then he and Bryce have their weird man hug. We then enter the house and walk inside.
It’s always so sunny and warm inside. All the white and little splashes of color adding a nice touch. It always felt like a second home to me.
”Yeah yeah I’ve heard that one before,“ he says though he smiles sweetly.
”Why are you so grumpy?“ I ask walking towards the open spaced kitchen.
He sighs
”Because my sisters are saying how it’s wrong to put in cereal first and then pour milk over them,“ he says and picks up a violet bowl and munches on froot loops.
I snort and put the cookies down on the counter. Greeting Evie and Soraya with hugs and kisses to the cheek.
I lean against the counter and smile at him.
”That’s what you’re debating about?“ I ask laughing.
But when there’s deafening silence I stop laughing.
”You guys are taking this way too serious. It’s an easy answered question. You first put in the cereal and then pour the milk,“ I say hearing gasps from Soraya, Evie and even Bryce.
Sky envelops me in a big hug, milk sloshing in his bowl, and a pink fruit loop is sticking to his cheek. How did it even get there in the first place?
I point to it, he grabs it and puts in his mouth. I watch him weirded out and he just shrugs.
”See Loonsey is on my side, she totally gets it,“ he gloats.
He whistles to himself as he’s rinsing the bowl and then putting it in the dishwasher.
We all get seated at the big table. An array of food is put on the table.
Bowls of fruits. All local.
Bagels, fig jam that my aunt made herself, cream cheese mixed with chives.
Banana blueberry pancakes, with maple syrup.
”Are you trying to feed an army of people?“
Soraya is the one who answers
”No just Bryce and Sky, since those two can eat like an army of six,“ she says her voice tired.
When I look at her I’m noticing the bags under her eyes. Getting concerned I reach across the table and squeeze her hand. She squeezes my hand back.
”Oh come on don’t be mad at Looney, just because she likes my method of cereal more,” he says.
”Screw you Sky,“ she says her tone dangerously low.
Sky sighs.
”Ever since you and A…“ he starts.
”Don’t,“ she says and tenses up.
Bryce and I share a look.
Soraya nibbles on a slice of orange.
”I’m just saying you’ve been in a bad mood,“ he says carefully.
She turns to him
”How would you know? Your relationships last five minutes. If you can even call them that,“ she says
He inhales sharply.
”Neither do yours. Just look at you. If this is what being in love is like, I’ll pass thanks,“ he says
Soraya gets up and walks out.
Evie looks at Sky, her brows knitted. Her lips pursed.
”Great. Just great,“ she says
He looks at her in turn.
”Don’t give me that look. You know I didn’t mean it like that,“ he sighs and rubs a hand over his tired eyes.
Evie sips on her grapefruit juice in silence and the emotions are rolling high around the table.
I’m the first to speak up
”Did we miss something? How did a debate about cereal and milk turn into this?“ I gesture at the table.
Bryce is munching on a piece of pancake, and I squat his arm and he almost spits out the piece of pancake.
”What? I’m hungry. But I’m sorry that Sor got hurt,“ he says in a quiet voice.
Sky plays with his silver bracelet
”She got dumped, and now she’s miserable…and I just made it worse,“ he sighs again. Looking deflated.
I rub his arm gently and smile at him.
”She just needs time to get over it. It’s too much right. I think she’s too wound up now,“ I say and get up from my chair.
They all look at me.
”I’ll see if she wants some company,“ I say and Bryce looks at me and seems to be asking if I’m sure and I just nod, giving him a light kiss.
Taking the box of cookies with me and walking down the path that leads from their home right down to the beach.
I can make out her shape in her light green sweater, while she’s hugging her knees.
I smile softly.
”I knew I’d find you here,“ I say sitting down beside her.
She looks up and wipes away some tears with the back of her hand.
I smile and open the box of cookies.
She gives me a watery smile.
”I shouldn’t have stormed out like that,“ she starts
”You have a right to how you feel. Sky was out of line, but he loves you. He didn’t mean it the way it came out,“ I say reassuringly.
She leans her head onto my shoulder.
I give her a kiss on her head.
”What happened?“ I ask her.
She sighs against me and I feel her warm breath against my skin.
”Well I don’t if we talked about this…with how busy we’ve both have been lately…but I found myself feeling more and more attracted to men and women. So I started going out with this woman her name is Alisha. Everything seemed great and I wanted to take her to Hayley‘s and Ethan’s wedding as a plus one…but, “ she drifts off and takes another cookie and continues.
”She said how she’s not ready for everyone to know. I was nervous too. When I told mom and dad they weren’t exactly thrilled, but they slowly started accepting me the way I am. But I fell hard for her and then she just broke up with me out of the blue,“ she wipes another tear away.
I hug her tighter.
”I know this isn’t what you want to hear but I think you’re better off without her. I think her fear of what people would think about her took over and she got scared and ran away, metaphorically speaking,“ I say and go on
”You’re such a wonderful person Raya. You’ll see the right person will stumble along when you least expect it to. That’s how it was with me and Bryce,” I stroke her hair gently and she just lets out sobs and I can feel my own eyes water, from seeing her this hurt over someone she’s clearly still in love with.
———————————————————
After some time, when the sun is starting to set and the box of cookies is empty, only leaving some crumbs, we get up and dust our clothes off from any remaining sand.
That‘s when Sky joins us. I leave them be and walk back towards the house. Illuminated from the inside.
As I turn around I can see them hugging and teasing each other and I grin.
I hate it when family fights. It’s so much more sweeter when they make up.
———————————————————
Later we’re all gathered around the fire pit. I’m nestled next to Bryce, wearing his warm jacket.
The others put on light jackets too.
We’re roasting some s‘mores and drinking some wine.
Laughing and joking around. Just like old times.
Evie is just telling an embarrassing story about Sky.
Who tries to throw marshmallows at her for her to stop telling the story, but she catches the marshmallows with her hands.
”One time we were at the beach and we only saw Sky running away screaming. At first we thought he was hurt. Turns out he ran away from a turtle,“ Soraya laughs so hard.
”I was four,“ Sky says defensively.
Evie laughs so hard the sip of wine she took almost comes out of her nose.
”Oh my god that’s even worse,“ Bryce says taking a sip of his beer.
”Or remember that one time…“ Sor says
”No more embarrassing stories of Sky. That was it,“ he says
”Do you have any embarrassing stories of Luna?“ I can hear Bryce asking next to me.
Sky smiles mischievously
”Oh I have one,“ he smiles in my direction smirking.
I know instantly which one he means.
”When Luna was about 3 or 4 she stayed with gramps and grammy. She was curious and felt bored so she opened the fridge and climbed into it. She planted face first into blackberry pie, “ Sky wriggles his eyebrows in a playful matter.
I bury my face in Bryce’s neck.
He laughs and looks at me and says
”Little Lu being adventurous. So cute,“ he takes another swig of his drink and asks
”So what happened?“
Soraya is on the ground from all the laughing.
Evie answers in between laughs.
”Grandma almost had a heart attack, because she thought Looney was hurt, because she was nestled between pickles and her face was in blackberry pie. Thankfully nothing happened,“ Evie finished the story.
Everyone is laughing and I chime in after a few seconds.
”What can I say. I love me some pie. I have to say that was really really good 🥺,“ I say munching on another s’more.
My cousins are still hollering with laughter at the fridge story.
We stay like this for some time and share heart warming stories about our families. About people we met and cared for.
It’s funny sometimes you’ll meet people and they’ll surprise you by accepting you the way you are. Loving you unconditionally.
That’s the difference between people who are meant to stay in your life and who care about you, next to those who are passing by and are only your friends temporarily.
As I look at the dwindling flames and my cousins and Bryce. All I see is family and love.
That’s the way it’s supposed to be. Never was I more glad that things that happened led me to this moment right here.
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