#i've spent the last two days looking for her skins

[aestralia]

agape sims why did you leave and take all your skins with you?? y'all please if anyone has her skins pls dm me

#im in tears rn #i've spent the last two days looking for her skins #and i wanted to dl them in december but I got side tracked #aes.txt #ts4cc

[theostrophywife]

chicken noodle soup.

pairing: mattheo riddle x reader

song inspiration: is it really so strange? by the smiths

author's note: just a soft fluffy comfort fic cause i've been thinking about matty lately and i needed cheering up after the end of kwaf. let's all laugh at the fact that i set a 1k limit on this fic only to fail miserably lmao 😭

Mattheo Riddle was not a fan of Mondays. 

Most of the time, Mattheo spent the first day of the week nursing a hangover and getting higher than a hippogriff at the Astronomy Tower with his friends to achieve equilibrium. The only thing he looked forward to every week was the prospect of riling you up in class. To be fair, it didn’t take much to get under your skin. Being himself seemed to do the trick. 

As he walked through the castle halls, Mattheo smiled to himself as he plotted out all the different ways he could provoke you on this dreadful day. For some sick and twisted reason, he reveled in the fact that only he could manage to rouse such a violent reaction out of you. There was something satisfying about the way your eyes blazed, your rosy cheeks tinged with heat as you told him off.

Maybe he'd flirt with you today. Tell you how good you looked in your short little skirt. Watch as you turned as red as the tie around your neck. His pretty little Gryffindor good girl. In Mattheo's mind, you were his to tease and taunt.

With his usual swagger, Mattheo sauntered into Advanced Transfiguration fully prepared to test out his new tactics on his nemesis, but you were nowhere to be found. 

At first, he figured that you were just running late. Throughout the duration of your rivalry, Mattheo had never once witnessed you skip class. He would’ve bet his entire cigarette supply that you’ve had perfect attendance since first year. When Professor McGonagall started the lesson and you were still missing in action, Mattheo was understandably concerned. 

The uneasy feeling in his stomach didn’t mean that he was worried about you though. This was purely about mutual benefit. Mattheo couldn’t very well have his Transfigurations partner skipping out on lessons. Even though he regularly did so himself. But still, that was different. Everyone knew he was a delinquent. You, on the other hand, were anything but. Until today, you’ve probably never missed a class in your life. 

Mattheo waited. Surprisingly, the two of you had the majority of your classes together. All of which dragged more than usual since you weren’t there to yell at him for dicking around. When you still hadn't turned up for Charms or Herbology, he became convinced that something was horribly wrong. Missing one lesson was alarming, but three in a row? That was entirely out of character for you. 

When Professor Sprout finally dismissed the class, Mattheo sauntered over to Granger’s desk. As always, she was surrounded by her two dimwit friends who immediately tensed the second he loomed near. Potter and Weasley shot him matching menacing glares, but Mattheo ignored them entirely. 

“Granger,” he drawled, leaning against the wooden desk. “Care to tell me where my partner’s been all day?” 

The Gryffindor girl appeared a bit perturbed by the question. “Why do you want to know where Y/N is?” 

Mattheo sighed in exasperation and produced the set of notes he’d taken during class. A first for him. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually listened to an entire lesson, let alone take notes, but he knew that you would have a million questions for him when you returned. The notes were his way of saving himself from your relentless interrogation. 

“Figured the little know-it-all would want my notes.” 

“Y/N is feeling a bit under the weather,” Hermione said cautiously. “I can take the notes to her if you’d like.” 

“No.” Mattheo declared rather suddenly. He cleared his throat and attempted to smooth over the sharp response. “No, McGonagall tasked me with it. I don’t want her docking points from my house when she finds out that you did my dirty work for me.”

Hermione raised a brow. “Sure.” The quirk of her mouth told Mattheo that she wasn’t convinced by his excuse. “Well, Y/N is resting up in the tower if you fancy a visit.” 

After a quick detour to the kitchens, Mattheo made his way over to Gryffindor tower. It was surprisingly easy to gain access to the lion’s den. He simply threatened a third year to let him in and got on with it. They truly needed to upgrade their security measures. One glare was all it took for Creevey to crumble and cave. 

With a satisfied smirk, Mattheo walked past the gaudy common room. For Salazar's sake, hadn't the Gryffindors ever heard of subtlety? The decor consisted solely of crimson and gold and the furnishings looked like something out of that muggle show his nan loved to watch—Antiques Roadshow. Antique was right. The worn out couch that he passed looked older than him.

Merlin, now he was starting to sound like Malfoy. Mattheo hurried along before he caught the urge to fold origami notes and chuck it at Potter's head. Fortunately for him, the place was devoid of the Chosen One or anyone for that matter.

By now, his fellow classmates were all in the Great Hall eating dinner, which he was thankful for. It was no secret that Mattheo’s presence wouldn’t be welcome here and he wasn’t really in the mood to fight his way through the Gryffindors just to deliver a note from the kindness of his black heart. Thank Salazar that there wasn’t a single soul in the tower to bicker with. Until he reached your dorm, of course. 

The relationship between the two of you was volatile to say the least. Despite Mattheo’s reputation, you weren’t shy about telling him off. When you were first assigned as partners, Mattheo had fully intended to let you do all the work while he skipped class to smoke, but he quickly realized that this would not be the case. You hunted him down at his hideout in the Astronomy Tower and discovered him blissfully sharing some premium grade mirthroot with Theo and Draco. When you found him, you were so angry that you dragged him by the ear all the way to the library, much to the amusement of his friends. Needless to say, Mattheo never missed a study session again. 

In a way, Mattheo admired you for it. Aside from his friends, everyone in the castle feared him. It was sort of refreshing to have someone call him out on his shit. Especially if that someone was a funny, feisty, ferocious Gryffindor who he enjoyed pestering every chance that he got. Mattheo always did have a penchant for girls with an attitude problem. 

Even as he knocked on your door, the Slytherin boy couldn’t help but chuckle to himself when he heard you grumbling from the other side. 

“Oh, for Godric’s fucking sake, what is it now?” 

The door swung open, revealing a very pissed off Y/N. Clad in striped pajamas and fuzzy bunny slippers, you placed a hand on your hip and frowned. Even in the throes of sickness, you still somehow managed to inject venom in your glare. Mattheo grinned like an idiot. 

“Nice slippers, princess.” 

You huffed, crossing your arms. “What do you want, Riddle?” 

“To make sure my partner doesn’t slack.” He waved his set of notes around. “Don’t think your sickness excuses you from studying.”

“This is payback for making you revise with me after you fell off your broom and broke your arm, isn’t it?” 

Mattheo cringed as he recalled the quidditch accident that sent him to the infirmary for a week. In true Y/N fashion, you were sitting by his bedside with a stack of books in your lap the second he woke up. Madam Pomfrey hadn't even put his arm in a sling yet before you were drilling him on proper spell enunciation and wand movements.

“You terrorized the infirmary with your mnemonics,” Mattheo said with a dramatic sigh. “It’s my turn now. This is sweet revenge, Y/N.” 

You squinted at his barely legible handwriting. “I’m just surprised you took your head out of your arse long enough to take notes.” 

“Glad to see that illness hasn’t lessened your bite. If anything, those teeth seem a little sharper than usual.” He leaned against the doorframe and smiled down at you. “Feeling a bit feral, princess?” 

“Why don’t you come a little closer and find out?” you quipped, baring your teeth at the aggravating boy. 

The gesture appeared intimidating for a full second until you sniffled and launched into a coughing fit, which made Mattheo frown. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Of course I am. I regularly cough my lungs out on nosy Slytherins whose sole purpose of existence is to make my life a living hell.”

He pressed the back of his hand against your forehead. The way his brow furrowed strangely resembled concern. Mattheo trained his chocolate brown eyes on you, examining the rosiness of your cheeks and the slight pinch of discomfort in your features.

"You're burning up." Mattheo's hand dropped from your forehead to the side of your neck. He pressed his fingers against your pulse point, feeling the erratic beating of your heart underneath his touch. It was strangely intimate. "You have an elevated heart rate."

You flushed and swatted his hand away. "Well, yes. That usually happens when one is ill."

"Come on, you should sit down."

"Don't tell me what to do, Riddle."

Mattheo rolled his eyes before dragging you by the elbow. Your protests fell on deaf ears as he barged his way into your dorm and walked you over to the bed. You watched as he pulled up a chair next to you before rifling through the contents of his backpack. Out of the sordid mess of his belongings, Mattheo produced a small container of soup. With a flick of his wand, he conjured a spoon. 

“Here, have some of this. It should help.”

As soon as he pried the lid open, the heavenly smell of chicken noodle soup filled your senses. Mattheo scooped up an equal amount of soup and noodle and blew on it to cool it down before tilting it towards you. The sight of him offering you food like you were some helpless toddler was only slightly insulting. You swore to Godric that if Mattheo started making airplane sounds, you’d strangle the bloody twat.

 “I can feed myself, you know.” 

“Just eat the damn soup, Y/N.” 

You rolled your eyes in return, but obliged nonetheless. Despite the source, you could never resist comfort food.

“Chicken noodle soup?” 

As soon as you tasted it, you knew that it wasn’t just soup. It was your favorite soup. The very same one that Winky made every third Wednesday of the month. You knew because you looked forward to it every time. It was even marked on your calendar. That’s how much you liked it. 

Mattheo nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, I know it’s your favorite so I bribed Winky to make some.” 

You furrowed your brows in confusion. “How do you know it’s my favorite?” 

For once in his life, Mattheo looked utterly uncomfortable. He averted his gaze and busied himself by stirring through the carrots and celery. “You, uh, mentioned it in class once.” 

You couldn’t help but smile. Maybe it was the fever talking, but you thought that was sweet. “You remembered that?” 

Mattheo looked up, a stray curl kissing the tops of his cheekbones as he met your gaze. The shy smile on his face was alarmingly endearing. Sometimes when you looked at those angelic curls and stupid big, brown eyes, you forgot that you were supposed to loathe him. “Of course. It’s my favorite too.” 

You chuckled, sniffling a little. “It’s like a hug in a cup, right?” 

The curly headed boy nodded. “It totally is.” 

After you finished the soup, you expected Mattheo to take his leave. Instead, he inspected the vials of potions laying out on your night stand. He read through every label, frowning a little. 

“You should really have some pepperup potion in here.” Mattheo remarked as he arranged the vials one by one. “Are you sure this dose is potent enough? Maybe you should ask them to brew something stronger.” 

“Pomfrey prescribed them herself. No offense, but I think I’ll take her years of healing experience over your expert opinion.” Mattheo gasped rather dramatically, which made you chuckle. “As much as I appreciate the notes and the soup, I don't think it's wise for you to stick around. I’m feeling a bit better, but I might still be contagious.” 

Mattheo shrugged. “It’s alright, I’m not scared of a little cold. Besides, I still have to go over the Transfiguration assignment with you.” 

“Aren’t you worried that I’ll get you sick?” 

“Not really,” he said, waving off your concern. “I know you’re going to pester me about everything you missed in class, so I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone.” 

To your surprise, Mattheo’s notes were extremely detailed.  It was a bit hard to read given his boyish scrawl, but with a little help in translation, you were making great progress in becoming fluent in Riddle. The more Mattheo explained the concepts and ideas that were discussed in each class, the more baffled you were. You've always known that he was smarter than he let on, but this was borderline impressive.

“How do you know all of that?” 

“I asked.”

“You asked?” Mattheo stared blankly at your surprised expression. “You never ask questions in class.” 

“I never had to since you're always there interrogating the professor like the little know-it-all that you are. Thanks to your absence, I had to fill your role in class today.”

You grinned. It grew wider and wider, spreading until your cheeks hurt. Mattheo glared at your joyous expression. “What? What’s that shit eating little grin for?” 

“You missed me.”

Color flooded Mattheo’s cheeks. You were surprised to find how well crimson suited him. It was almost the exact shade of your house colors. “Don’t be ridiculous—”

“Riddle, you asked questions in class. You took notes for me. You brought me chicken noodle soup." Mattheo flushed as you pointed out the obvious. "You totally missed me.” 

“If you tell anyone, I’ll hex you.” 

“Admit it, Mattheo. Your day was utterly dull without me.” 

Mattheo rolled his eyes, sighing in defeat. “Fine, you’ve got me. I was bored out of my mind without you around. How else am I supposed to pass the time if you’re not there for me to argue with?” 

“There’s plenty of other people in the castle that you could bicker with.”

“Yeah, but they’re not you.” 

He seemed a little shocked by his own statement, but he didn't try to retract it. In fact, Mattheo almost seemed resigned to it.

“Careful, Riddle. It almost sounds like you have a crush on me.” 

“I’d have to be a bloody idiot to fall for a girl who absolutely despises me.” 

“That wasn’t a denial, you know.” 

He pinched the bridge of his nose like the very idea of it vexed him, but you caught the little smile he hid beneath his fingers. Mattheo snatched the notes from your hands. “Focus on the lesson, will you?” He grimaced as soon as the words left his mouth. “I can’t believe I’ve just said that. Look at what you’re doing to me, Y/N.” 

“You’ll live, Riddle.” You poked a section of his notes that you hadn’t quite deciphered. “Now what in the bloody hell is the Gobstopper Ruffian?” 

“The Goblin Rebellion. Merlin, my handwriting isn't that bad.” 

“Are you kidding? A kindergartner writes more legibly than this.” 

The hours passed while you bickered and bantered. You hated to admit it, but you missed arguing with him too. Laying in bed all day had you positively bored, but yet time passed within the blink of an eye as you went back and forth with Mattheo. Somewhere between discussing the possibility of Longbottom running an underground exotic plant ring and arguing over the best Smiths song, the sun had set over the horizon. Mattheo rubbed his eyes and yawned. 

“You look knackered, Riddle,” you teased, patting the spot beside you. “Do you want to lie down for a bit?”

Chocolate brown eyes widened at you. “Lie down? With you? On your bed?” 

“Yes, that’s typically how people do it.” You smirked as he shot you an apprehensive look. “Unless you’re too scared.”’

Never one to back down from a challenge, Mattheo lifted the covers and gestured for you to make room. “Scoot over, then.” 

The jest seemed to have backfired on you because now Mattheo was crawling into bed and making himself completely at home. All the apprehension from earlier melted as he pulled you against him, his chest pressed against your back as he nuzzled into the crook of your shoulder. You stifled a giggle as Mattheo released a satisfied little sigh. 

Mattheo wrapped his arms around you until you were covered in the scent of amber, cinnamon, and leather. You never expected to unearth the fact that Mattheo Riddle was a great cuddler, but yet here you were, reaping the benefits of this newfound revelation. He slipped his fingers through yours and nuzzled closer. 

"Who would've known that Mattheo Riddle was such a great cuddler?"

"If you tell anyone—"

"You'll hex me. Put a curse on my family. Set my possessions on fire. Yes, I know, Riddle. You keep threatening me, but you never follow through. I'm starting to think that you're losing your touch."

Mattheo squeezed your hip before twining your legs together. "I wouldn't test me, Y/N. You're in a very vulnerable position right now."

You chuckled as he scooted even closer. "Maybe, but you won't do anything."

"Why's that, princess?"

"You like me too much," you retorted, chuckling as Mattheo buried his face in your hair. "One day without me and you're already a needy mess."

"You infuriate me," Mattheo whispered against your ear. "But you're also the best part of my day. I couldn't imagine fighting with anyone else but you, my dear nemesis."

"I totally loathe you, Mattheo Riddle."

He chuckled as you snuggled into him. "I loathe you too, Y/N Y/L/N."

The irony of the statement contrasted with how tangled up you were wasn't lost on you. For two people who supposedly hated each other, cuddling with your enemy had never felt so right. The steady beat of Mattheo's heart lulled you towards sleep. You were slowly succumbing to its hypnotic lullaby until Mattheo's voice broke through the silence.

“Y/N?” He murmured against your hair.

You shifted, your eyes feeling heavy as his warmth enveloped you. “Hmm?” 

Mattheo’s voice was low and gravelly, flowing like honey in your ears. “This is nice.” 

You smiled against the pillow, staring at your intertwined fingers. “Better than chicken noodle soup?” 

You felt him grin against your skin before he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on your temple. “Way better than soup.” 

TAGLIST

@annaisabookworm @bubybubsters @criesinlies @niktwazny303 @therealallisonspear @athenalikethegoddess @clairesjointshurt @vixzwrites @elle4404

#a cuddle from him could reset my brain chemistry #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle fluff

[reiderwriter]

This request is inspired by the season 1 finale when Elle and Morgan are on that tropical vacation:) could you do something where the team is somewhere like that for a case and after it’s closed they decide to stay another night and go to a club and the reader gets Spencer to dance with her and at first he’s really awkward but then they really get into it (can end however you want:))

A/N: I took this idea and RAN. When I tell you I was sitting furiously the entire way through this, I mean it 😭 thank you so much for requesting! 🥰

Warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, semi-public sex, Munch!Spencer, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, cum play, alcohol consumption, slight masturbation (m).

The sun was bright and hot in Jamaica. You'd landed a week ago for a case which had now wrapped and were enjoying the cool breeze from the sea and the hospitality of Derek Morgan’s hotel-resort-owning friend. 

Travelling internationally was always a little bit tougher than working on the domestic cases, but the international team was spread thin, and somehow, no case had landed on your desk until this one did. Graciously, the FBI had let you have another 24 hours before your return. 

You'd spent the day stretching out in the sun, an incredibly large beach umbrella set up beside you housing Spencer Reid who had let you know early into the trip that he burned easily. 

“All I'm saying is, I've read enough papers on skin cancer to know the sun is a deadly laser.” 

“A twenty minute game of beach volleyball isn't going to kill you, kid. Come on, these ladies are waiting, and I will leave your ass here.” 

“Stop bothering him, Derek,” you defended Spencer, partly because Derek was casting a shadow across you and cutting off your sun, and partly because you didn't want to acknowledge the pit of jealousy bubbling up in your body when the women threw themselves at Spencer. “Besides, do you really want Spencer on your team for a physical sport?” 

“Y/N has a point, listen to Y/N,” Spencer whined, nodding profusely at your words. 

Derek held his hands up in defeat and walked away, wondering how long it would take the two of you to sort whatever attachment issues you had out. 

When the sun had eventually retreated, and you'd pulled the beach dress you'd bought earlier that day back on, Spencer was still at your side. 

“You know, I think you caught some sun, Spencer,” you giggled, running a hand across his now permanently rosy cheeks and feeling their warmth. “Your cheeks are so red. It's like a grandma just pinched them and held on.” 

“I told you I could look at the sun and burn, and we've been out here all day,” he grumbled, pouting slightly. 

You beamed up at him, though. You hadn't forced Spencer out. In fact, you'd been fully prepared for him to stay inside all day reading. But when he asked you your plans at breakfast, he'd asked to join you, and you hadn't protested in the slightest. 

Walking slowly back to the main part of your resort, you softly hummed the music that travelled from the outdoor beach bar. The music had been constant throughout the day, and you swayed your hips in time to the music as you walked. 

“Y/N…” Spencer started, a few paces behind you. You turned to look at him. His usual wardrobe wasn't exactly the most beach friendly attire, so you'd hunted down a pair of board shorts and a short sleeve button down when you'd bought your dress that morning. You thought they'd hang awkwardly off him, but he filled them out surprisingly well. As he spoke, though, you found yourself unconsciously moving forward to straighten a wrinkle in his shirt.

 “I think Rossi, Hotch, and Prentiss mentioned they were going to get drinks in the bar this evening. Do you want to go, too?” 

Your hand stilled on his chest, and you looked up at him. It was golden hour, and the sun had halo'd him perfectly in its dying rays, showing off its beauty one last time. 

You had to recapture the breath you'd hiccuped out when he'd held your gaze, willing your heartbeat to stay somewhat normal. 

“Oh, great! That sounds like fun, I was just thinking about how I wanted to dance.”

“I know,” he whispered softly as you turned away cheerfully. You almost didn't hear it, and though you desperately wanted to turn around and ask him why, you continued ahead toward the twinkling lights of the bar. 

Three hours later, you were in your cups. You'd worked hard on your case throughout the week, and now it was time for distraction. 

Besides, you knew that sun and alcohol weren't always the best pairing, so you'd stayed hydrated on the beach. Now the sun had gracefully set, you were happy to enjoy a glass or two of your liquid joy. 

Pulling Spencer Reid onto the dance floor in front of all your coworkers was just another symptom of your piña colada buzz, and he followed you with a small hesitation and a small laugh of protest. 

“Y/N, I can't dance.” 

“Shhhhhh, you don't have to dance, you just have to sway. Just sway.” 

“By my definition, swaying is dancing.” 

You rolled your eyes at him but pulled his hands around your waist always. Your coordination faltered, though, and you landed awkwardly high on your body. Without a care in the world for the trail of fire you were igniting down your back, you slid his hands lower, until his hands were sat nearer to your ass than your hips, and you stepped in. 

With his arms in position, you threw your own around his neck, and absent mindedly began playing with the curls at the base of his neck. 

“Now sway, Spencer.” 

His eyes locked with yours, and he obliged. Your chest had pressed up against his after all, your bodies practically flush, and now that you were moving in time to the music, it was inevitable that he should, too. 

Time travelled quickly as you stood in the glow of each other, laughing and joking about each clumsy step, each bump from other dancers. Your coworkers had each come up to wave a quick goodbye through the night, but you were still there. Still swaying. 

You were sure that his hands had travelled the length of your body, the heat that burned you from inside out having filled your body a millenia ago. 

He'd spun you out a couple times, and you'd giggled in delight at the motion, letting your dress raise and spin in the breeze, and returning to a closer position than before, more intimate somehow each time. 

The two of you were so lost in each other that by the time the DJ was shutting his system down, you hadn't even realised the music had stopped. You were now simply swaying along to the sound of the waves crashing in and out. 

“Y/N,” he finally whispered into your ear as the sun again began to show its head. “Y/N, the sun is coming up.” 

“I know. I think…. I think I don't want to let you go just yet, though.” You kept moving together in that silence for a few more minutes, but now your eyes were locked. 

It wasn't a surprise when his lips touched your own. After all, you'd seen them coming. But the jolt of electricity it sent up your spine stole your breath anyway. 

You opened your mouth to take in some air, and he saw that as welcoming. His tongue tangled with yours as his hand lifted to tip your head back, his back already bent slightly to accommodate your height difference. 

His guiding hand wasn't enough, though, he was still not close enough. 

You subtly lifted your leg and his hand instantly dropped to your thighs, hauling you up into his arms as you wrapped your legs around his waist. 

“Our flight is in six hours,” you panted as his lips left yours, suddenly sober again. “We should get some rest.” 

He nodded in agreement, but he was already walking back to your rooms. You each had your own, but he hadn't relinquished his hold on you yet, and you knew he wasn't going to. 

Good, you thought, because logic be damned but you weren't planning on letting him. 

He carried you like that all the way to his door, as you pressed chaste kisses across his face, head, ears, hair, anywhere you could reach on his body. Places you appreciated because they were beautiful and lovely. 

You longed to kiss everywhere else, too. 

“Y/N, we're here.” He said, meeting your eyes once more. There was an unspoken question there. An invitation to leave if you didn't want this. 

Your answer was a hand in his hair and hips pressed back against his. It was all he needed as he blindly pushed into the room. 

You thought he'd throw you down on the bed, but he was much too gentle for that. 

Instead, he sat himself down, taking care to make sure you were comfortable even as his tongue twisted and writhed against your own. 

With this new position, you could try to relieve some of the tension that had been burning in your body since you'd first pulled his hands to you. Your hips moved in slow circles, pressing down into the now obvious bulge in his pants, picking up speed with each caress of his hand. 

He'd pushed under the hem of your dress, his hands on your bare thighs gripping you tightly as you used his body to get off. 

You both moaned and whined through each wet kiss, the gentleness of your earlier encounters chaste in comparison with the animalistic need pulsing through yourself. 

You nearly growled when he lifted your hips again, but you let him continue his motions as he lay back, guiding your hips higher and higher until you straddled his face. 

“Shit, Spencer-” You lost the words as his fingers pulled the two ties holding your bikini bottoms in place, effectively discarding them and leaving you bare. You gasped as you held yourself above him, but he was strong and insistent.

Wrapping one hand around each of your splayed thighs, he pulled your core to his mouth and began to pleasure you. Your hands jolted to the headboard so you could steady yourself. 

Your dress still remained, spread across the bed and obscuring his face from view as he flicked his tongue against your clit, like a flower decorating the Emerald green sheets of the bed. 

“Spencer, fuck,” his hold on your thighs loosened now that he knee you weren't going anywhere, one hand sliding down to his own neglected cock. 

The looser grip meant you could move, just slightly, and so you began to ride his face. 

You moved your hips back and forth as he flattened out his tongue, and you heard the music that had carried you into the night start up again. 

Your moans were melodic, a tribute to your lust for him, an offering made to show him how truly desired he was. 

You came with a shudder, the full weight of your body falling down onto his tongue, but he didn't stop. 

His tongue started moving again now your hips had twitched to a stop, prolonging your orgasm by an eternity. 

You finally rose up on your knees when you felt a second orgasm begin to build, craving something different this time. 

He didn't come out from under your dress so much as rip the thing off of both of you. 

You'd already rid yourself of your bikini top earlier in the dar, so you sat bare above him as he pulled you again into his lap, his cock now free from his pants. 

Your lips came together again as you hovered over him, his length running through your folds, readying himself for the sweet moment he'd finally be inside you. 

“You taste sweet,” he said before you sucked on his tongue, desperate to taste your joint lust. 

The music played once again as he pulled your hips lower down and sheathed himself inside you, but louder, a crescendo of perfectly resonant notes sounding one after the other. 

You were too lost in it to be any help to him, and he kissed away your fatigue as he lowered you to the bed, gently placing your head on the pillow and smoothing the hair out of your face before pulling out until only the tip of his cock was inside you and again pushing in. 

His rhythm was steady, pulsing through your entire body. You felt the pleasure of his body inside you everywhere as his lips returned to your ear. 

You thought he would talk and say something again, but his teeth found you instead, his to gue licking the spot where your neck met your lobe before he gently nipped the side of your ear. 

He couldn't talk, but he didn't hold back any moans. 

Your whimpers, his groans, the steady rhythm of your hips meeting and pulling apart, the sound of your arousal slick between your legs, all joined together in a symphony of love as your hearts sang to one another. 

“Y/N,” he finally moaned, and hearing your name on his lips like a prayer was enough to send you over the edge. 

“Spencer! I'm cumming again, Spencer. Please don't stop-” You begged even as your body tensed up beneath him. 

He continued that rhythm, not letting your music end until it was absolutely necessary. 

But as the sun shone through the curtains again, you knew you were reaching the end of this song. 

“Where should-” he couldn't form the full question, elbows holding his weight off of you as he held back the full force of his orgasm. 

“P-Pull out,’ you whispered, and he did. 

It took him only a few strokes to find completion on your stomach. He sat back on his knees, mindful not to press his weight back down upon you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and grabbed at him anyway, needing to feel his lips on yours one more time. 

You wondered if your entire life would now be the moments in between his kisses. 

“Y/N, our flight is in 5 hours.” 

“We can sleep on the jet. We can't do this on the jet,” you said pulling his head back down for a kiss as you heard the music start up once again. 

#and where the fuck has this gif been hiding #dear lord im obsessed with him #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n

[pers1st]

consequences

pairing: lucy bronze x reader

notes: very angsty, also it's been a while since i've written this so pls don't mind this too much, just clearing my drafts

dirty tissues, trust issues - glasses on the sink, they didn't fix you

You felt Lucy slipping away from you with every day that passed. There was nothing soft, nothing loving about your interactions anymore. The two of you were barely able to converse during training sessions, your passes off and drink breaks spent as far away from each other as possible.

Going home together was even worse. The nights you'd spent at Keira's house because being with your girlfriend was simply unbearable were endless, and even now as you walked out of the shower after your evening run, wet hair on your neck and skin tainted with lavender, you considered taking a run for it as you found her on the couch, a bottle of wine on the coffee table.

You huffed, not finding the energy to start yet another fight, as you sat down in your living room's armchair, far away from Lucy. She was watching football, and as you drew your knees towards your chest, you felt her gaze on you.

"You want a glass of wine?", she asked, and you weren't exactly sure whether these were the first words she'd said to you today or not. You remembered the times you would talk for hours in bed, never hearing enough of her voice.

"No."

Your voice was sharper than you had intended for it to be, quite honestly, but you didn't have it in yourself to care, as Lucy didn't either, sipping away at her wine without another question.

The silence was unbearable all of a sudden. 

"Why are you drinking again, anyways?"

Lucy huffed. 

"Makes this a little less awkward, don't you think?"

And with that, you rose from your seat, the frustration making you restless. 

"If you can't stand being around me sober, why don't you just leave?", you exclaimed, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you paced through the room, desperate for something to do, to focus on, before you blew up at her anymore.

"That's what I'm trying to do, don't you remember? Last I remembered, you didn't want me to go to Lyon!"

"Lucy, that's not what I said! I don't get why you're just throwing our relationship away without a second thought", you yelled through the room that had once been filled with your laughter.

You couldn't stand being here anymore, and instead walked towards the open kitchen, busying yourself with the dirty dishes in the sink from the dinner she'd eaten without you.

"I've told you before, that's not what I'm doing! I don't get why you won't let me have this! Lyon is like, the best club there is, and you're holding me back here because you're too scared I'll leave you?"

You scrubbed at the plate in your hands aggressively, the hot water burning at your skin, as you felt deja-vu overcome you. This conversation had played out between the two of you endless times, and you didn't know how much longer you could take it.

"That's not what this is about Lucy, and you know it!"

lonely pillows in a stranger's bed, little voices in my head

The conversation played over and over again in your mind as you found yourself in Keira's guest room yet another time. You had told Lucy, multiple times, that you understood why she wanted to move to Lyon. You weren't holding her back, were you? You wanted her to succeed, to go to the best clubs in the world, you wanted her to do everything she dreamed of, you simply didn't understand how she hadn't even taken a second to think about what this meant for your relationship.

Keira's pillow felt warm against your scalp and at once, you sat up against your bed frame, looking at the time on your phone exhaustedly. It was well past midnight, and you had a match tomorrow that you needed to be in form for.

Sleep didn't come to you easily though, not when you were left wondering what your girlfriend was doing now - whether she was laying awake just as you were, thinking and thinking about the arguments between the two of you, or whether she was snoring softly the way she always told you she didn't, her dreams filled with her in a Lyon kit, thousands of kilometers away from you.

Was it really that easy for her? To just up an leave you behind, without a second thought?

When she'd first told you about wanting to go away from Manchester, there had still been hesitation in her voice. By the time Lyon made an offer half a year before her contract ran out, she had jumped in excitement, telling you all about how she would go and win the Champions League and what a great opportunity this was for her. You didn't quite disagree with her, but you were left wondering where exactly, in her future plans, you were displayed. 

When you'd asked her this, she hadn't had a clue. That's how this mess had even unfolded in the first place.

secret keeping, stop the bleeding - lost a little weight because i wasn't eating

Keeping the break up from the public proved to be one of the most difficult things you'd ever done. Although your relationship had never exactly been confirmed, it hadn't taken much for the fans to notice the way you had been attached at the hip for years, and when Lucy had interrupted your post match interview once, simply to stare at you lovingly in a playful way to stop you from concentrating on the questions asked - and when she had succeeded in it, there was no room for questions anymore.

Your feed was still scattered with pictures of the two of you. You could barely look at them as you scrolled your profile, finding pictures of your vacation together, pictures of you in Manchester together, pictures of you during the England camps and tournaments. Deleting them wasn't an option - Lucy and you had decided to stay friends after this break up, and although it was proving to be quite easy to remain friendly now that she was in Lyon and you hadn't had a single conversation with her since the night she'd left, you knew that deleting the pictures would 

A) send the fans into a spiral down every one of your interactions

B) stir the rumors already spread all over the internet

C) make people think you hated each other.

None of those options were ideal, and the latest most definitely wasn't true. Your heart was still so full of love for Lucy that you often found yourself crying at the memories with her, crying at the fact that she'd left you, crying at the fact that you'd let her go. 

She'd promised you that things would be okay, at the airport, with her life packed in bags and you left behind. She'd promised it would be okay. Now though, it didn't seem okay to you. The lack of a goodbye post was a starter - many of your teammates had shared past moments with Lucy, candid pictures or heartfelt messages, wishing her all the best in the world. And although it wasn't unusual for you to be inactive on the social media, it certainly raised questions among the fans. Your girlfriend was moving to another country. You seemingly didn't say goodbye.

However, some people had spotted you at the airport together, stating that you were definitely still dating and that you would manage the distance okay. Lucy's contract was only a year. She might just explore her options and come back to you. You might leave after another year in Manchester, and follow her to Lyon.

You wouldn't, but they didn't know that.

You decided, then and there, laying in your bed once more, crying over your girlfriend once more, that you had to delete TikTok.

The breakup was more than obvious to everyone who knew you personally, though. You were barely speaking at any social event, never staying long after training, preferring to be in your own home and rot away. Georgia and Keira tried their best to drag you outside, make you live a little, as they called it, but you barely let them. You had lost weight too, as the team doctor had pointed out, although you didn't believe him. Your heart felt too heavy, weighing your body down with every thought, every feeling of Lucy. She wasn't here though, you realized as you glanced at the empty side of your bed, another tear escaping your eye. 

every siren that I was ignoring, I'm paying for it

The signs had been there early on. She'd promised things would be okay, and you had half-heartedly believed her. Now though, you realized you shouldn't have. The constant tone of your phone was grounding you slightly as you sat in your armchair, waiting for Lucy to pick up. You checked the time in an anxious matter, wondering whether or not you had maybe mixed something up. But no, you hadn't. You'd agreed to FaceTime on Monday, at eight. However, your face was the only one visible on your screen. 

Had she forgotten? Should you dial another time? Was she ignoring you?

Just as your finger hovered over the red button, her face came into view, and you didn't recognize her surroundings. You had facetimed many times by now, and you knew what her apartment in Lyon looked like. The slightly slurred words made it ever so clear to you.

"Hey baby", she huffed, holding her phone close to her face as she got up from a sofa that wasn't hers, strolling into a hallway that wasn't hers, pulling a door closed behind her that wasn't hers.

"Can I call you back later?", she asked, her tone slightly whiny. "Now is not a good time."

You didn't tell her that now was the time the two of you had agreed on three days ago, when you had begged her to answer the unscheduled calls, wanting nothing more than to hear her voice. You should've known - when the promised call later didn't come, that there was nothing left for you to pick up. Your relationship was shattered, a part of you realized then, but there was another part that held onto the pieces of glass tightly, so tightly that it drew blood. Her call only came a week later, and by then, all she had to say was how amazing Lyon was. She didn't once mention how you would like it there.

loving you was young, and wild, and free

You remembered the day you fell in love with Lucy like it was yesterday, the memories having permanently altered the chemistry of your brain to the point where you could never forget anymore. It had been the first day you'd met her - when Lucy, of all people, had been selected to show you around the Manchester training centre. She hadn't done a particularly well job, as the staff had assessed later, because she had shown you all her favorite nooks and crannies of the building, showing you where best to hide when you were supposed to be in the gym, where best to get food, the cheapest vending machines and the best coffee stations.

She had smiled at you shyly, and you had reciprocated. From that day on, the two of you had shared soft touches everywhere, a hand in the small of your back here, a tug on your shirt during a particularly competitive warm up game there, the intertwined hands as you finally showed her your furnished apartment, which you would later dismiss to move into hers. Your cheeks had blushed whenever the older defender found you among the crowd of teammates, whenever she had told you to turn your head off before a match, whenever she had celebrated your goals by letting you jump into her arms, burying her face in your stomach. The first time you kissed had been a mess of chuckles, teeth clashing in smiles and stolen touches of your hands here and there. Falling in love with Lucy had made your heart beat out of your chest, it had made your stomach warm and fuzzy, it had drawn a smile upon your face that was hard to get rid of, even though Keira and Georgia liked to tease you about it at every opportunity. The first time you and Lucy had shown up at practice together, you hadn't heard the end of it, but no matter how awful the teasing got, it had been worth it a hundred times. If not a million.

You remembered the time you'd sat on Keira's sofa, drinking wine shyly and telling your best friends all about the first official date between the two of you and how everything had just fallen into place afterwards. Despite the fact that they called the two of you annoying at every chance they got, arguing that you were disgustingly smitten, you knew in the back of your head that they were supportive of your relationship. They told you once, as you once more chugged wine on Keira's sofa, that they dreamt of a relationship like yours. 

loving you was sunshine, safe and sound, a steady place to let down my defenses

"It's okay, honey", Lucy ran her hand through your hair as you sobbed into her chest. She had been a mess of her own after England's departure in the quarter final of the 2019 World Cup, but she knew that she would later pick up the broken pieces that were left of you. You'd caused a penalty in the first minutes of the match, setting England up for failure (at least, that was what you believed), and after the red card you were given in the eightieth minute, the floodgates had crashed down completely.

Your body wrecked in her arms, in the dimly lit hotel room, mere hours before the team would return back to England. Had Lucy not been around - God knew what would've happened. The both of you had stayed up throughout the night, because even though you had held the tears in on your way back from the stadium, and during the most silent team dinner you had yet to sit through, there was nothing holding back the tears once you had sat down on Lucy's bed. Neither one of you had slept yet, and while Lucy had hoped you would simply pass out from exhaustion, there was no end to your tears. She didn't once complain though, holding you all throughout the night, cooing soothing words at your shaking body, despite the fact that she knew you wouldn't hear any of them. It hurt her - to see the absolute mess that you were, especially because of how good of a player you knew she was, and how she knew that you had been one of the key players in England's tournament so far, especially given the fact that you were still young, compared to her. 

She held your hand all throughout breakfast, when you had finally calmed down enough to walk, and when she sat with you on the plane home, but the worst part was yet to come.

Realistically, there was no stopping you from reading through the comments under your recent Instagram post, despite the fact that she had thought about snatching your phone in the few hours of sleep you got and simply turning them off.

"They're all saying it's my fault, Luce", you whined, teary-eyed, as you sat in your armchair, a blanket wrapped around your body, your phone shaking in your grip.

"Y/N, we've talked about this, it's not your fault", she cooed, frustrated with the fact that you still didn't believe her. This conversation had played out endless times in the past two weeks, and despite the fact that the season at Manchester City was about to start, you were still stuck on the events in Canada. 

"But- if I had-"

"No", Lucy interrupted you harshly. "Y/N, you've had a great tournament. If it wasn't for your goals, we would've been out a round or two earlier. You did everything you could for your country-"

This time, it was you who interrupted her.

"I don't know if I can do this again", you started sobbing now. Lucy was up from the couch within seconds, her plate of dinner long forgotten as she crouched down in front of you, taking your phone out of your hands.

"Can do what, baby?"

"I don't know if I can play for England anymore- nobody wants me there- I can't-"

Your words came to a stop as Lucy wrapped her arms around you, your chin immediately tucked into her neck, sobbing softly.

"Don't let them get to you, Y/N. You are a brilliant player, and you're not gonna finish your career over some trolls on the internet", she ordered, and in the end, she had been right. Although, if it hadn't been for her, being with you every step of the way, holding you as you cried, being your biggest supporter on and off the field, you might've never returned in an England shirt.

loving you was sunshine,

but then it poured, and i lost so much more than my senses

but loving you had consequences

The second you had left the pitch after the Champions League match against Lyon, you should've expected the social media war that would come crumbling down on you mere hours later. Fans had found your lack of interaction after the match and the way you had shoved Lucy once and hadn't returned to help her back to her feet to be the proof to the rumored breakup. They had been suspecting it for a while, with rumors sparking up between Lucy and one of her teammates at Lyon, and the lack of your interactions online. It hadn't bothered you so far, the endless comments asking about what was going on, the tweets that people thought were funny. Now, however, it was an entirely different feeling. The shove of yours against Lucy was everywhere - on your Instagram feed, your Twitter feed, you couldn't escape it. In hindsight, it looked far more aggressive than it had been. Lucy and your speed had left your legs tangled and had sent her flying to the ground, and as you were too fast to stop so abruptly, you hadn't managed to get back to her before Ada had pulled her up already. It did look as though you had simply left her on the grass, although the both of you knew that the foul hadn't been intentional. You had only huffed angrily at the ref's decision, not at Lucy's presence. 

You didn't know whether it was a good or a bad thing that people had missed your short conversation in the hallway of the Etihad. She had caught you there - after having conversed with Keira and Georgia, she had sent her hand out behind her and grabbed a hold of your shirt before you had even seen her, with your head still lingering on the goal you'd scored. 

"Hey, you", she smiled, and Keira and Georgia had vanished at the very second that Lucy let them go, smiling at you softly.

Your conversation had been that as well - soft. Lucy had asked how you were, and you had told her that things were okay again. She'd asked how things were at City, but she hadn't pushed you to talk to her, squeezing your shoulders and saying her goodbyes when she had felt the tiniest ounce of discomfort in your shift. 

All of that was shielded from the public though, and people quickly made you out to be the villain after your "foul". Some jumped to your defense, claiming Lucy must've really hurt you, for you to tackle her the way you apparently had. Others were sure that you were jealous of Lucy's career, and taking your frustration out on the defender. 

They couldn't have been further from the truth. You had been hurt at first - about the fact that Lucy had dropped you like a hot potato at the thought of moving to a better club, but you realized now that her motive hadn't been to discard you, it was simply how her brain worked sometimes. Lucy was a big kid, she didn't think things through before becoming excited at them. You had never been jealous of her career, and you didn't think you ever could. You wanted her to do all the great things she dreamed of, you wanted to win the Olympics and the Euros and the next World Cup alongside her, you wanted her to win the Champions League, the French league, the cup, anything. 

You sniffed slightly as you realized just how bad of a person people made you out to be. Suddenly, you were reminded of the World Cup again, seeing the clear visual of the night you'd spent in Lucy's arms, reading every hateful message, every comment, every post about your failure and how you were a disgrace for your country. She'd been there for you through it all. Now, however, you were sitting alone in your flat, the flat that Lucy had once lived in, and you knew that it was the smartest thing to call Keira, or Georgia, or Alex, but you also knew that Lucy was close - closer than she had been to you in months, and so you couldn't exactly stop yourself from dialing her number. She'd texted you before she'd changed it. You had it memorized, just in case you ever needed her. She'd promised you to be there for you despite it all, and although you had sworn to yourself to never ever take her up on the offer, you knew that Lucy was the only person who could pull you out of this.

"Hello?", her voice came from the other side, quickly, sleepily. "Y/N?"

"I'm sorry", you sobbed, suppressing your tears as well as you could. It wasn't easy. Your Instagram comments were still open on your iPad, laying on your knees.

"Don't be, Y/N. Is it the comments?", she asked, and you allowed yourself to smile at the fact that she knew you so well, that she had noticed what was going on without you having to tell her.

"Yeah", you hiccuped, wiping your tears away with your sleeves, sniffling quietly. 

"I'm sorry, they shouldn't comment these kinds of things", Lucy said, and you felt your heart swell at the emotion in her voice.

"Yeah", you replied again, suddenly not knowing what to say.

"Hey, how about we swap shirts at the next match? Let people know that they're spinning stories", she suggested, and you nodded quickly, although she couldn't see you.

"Sure, that sounds good", you smiled slightly at the thought, at how determined Lucy seemed to fix this issue. 

You spoke for longer on the phone than you expected, with Lucy staying silent shortly to find a less occupied spot in the hotel, away from her roommate, and catching up over what happened over the last few months. She offered to post a story of the shove alongside a joke of sorts if you needed relief immediately, but you declined, knowing that even just the conversation with her had calmed you enough to not look at the comments anymore. Lucy told you to switch them off as well, but you didn't- knowing that she didn't hate you was enough.

It felt like the closure the both of you needed - and when you finally came to Lyon to verse her again, the two of you had switched shirts after the match and you had finally gotten to see her family again, showing Lucy's nephew around the pitch shortly. There were people out there still hopeful that the two of you were together, but most people accepted the breakup then and there, and were relieved to see the two of you still friendly with each other. You had spent years together, after all, but you were the most relieved. Knowing that you still had Lucy on your side if you desperately needed her, if everything fell down on top of you - knowing that Lucy was going to be on your side forever, it was possibly the best consequence that could've come out of your relationship.

#woso community #woso imagine #woso #woso one shot #woso fanfics #barca femeni #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #barca femeni x reader #barca x reader #olympique lyonnais #lionesses #Spotify

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄

pairing: stripper!jack daniels x f!reader

genre: stripper AU, explicit, minors dni

word count: 8.2k

series summary: frustrated by your everyday life, you seek solace at a male strip club. It's your first time and you're instantly mesmerized by the one that calls himself "Whiskey".

chapter summary: you're still heartbroken but that doesn't stop you from attending your friends' bachelorette party— how were you supposed to know the male stripper that she hired would be the one and only whiskey.

warnings: angst, grief, mention of the loss of a child, enemies to lovers ✨ v i b e s ✨, semi-public sex, angst with happy ending, stripping, one time use of good boy (i was in a mood don't @ me), praise kink, oral (fem receiving), piv

a/n: not gonna lie with the trip I took and my laptop breaking when I returned I feel like I've been working on this chapter for months. Hopefully, it turned out okay! Thank you for all the support you've shown for stripper!jack it was much appreciated and made me so happy to see everyone so enthusiastic 💖

[stripper!jack masterlist]

dividers by @firefly-graphics 💜

Jack has a lot of regrets in his life. 

The night is warm, yet his skin is cold like ice. His legs feel shaky, his steps echoing and blending with the stretched-out shadows of the buildings. Cars whizz past him, a couple of cabs as well, but he doesn’t hail any of them. He’d rather complete his walk of shame back to his apartment. It’s only fitting after the stunt he pulled. 

He wasn’t expecting you to look at him the same way Vivienne used to. Full of admiration and love. There was a certain blindness to it, like he could do no wrong, but he could. Jack could do many wrongs. 

He shakes his head, the yearning in his heart growing with every painful beat. He misses her. His Viv. When Jack thinks of her, he can only remember their last moments together. Her stomach round with his child—a baby boy, he later on learned—her cheeks glowing, her hair in a high messy bun. She kissed him on the cheek that night. Hugging him tight. Maybe she had a feeling. He shouldn’t have let her go. 

A car honks as it passes him by, screeching laughter coming from the inside. He glares at the taillights of the car, two red eyes glaring back at him. 

With you, Jack thought he just liked the attention. You were shy, clumsy, unfiltered. He could tell what you were thinking just by looking at you. He thought. . . the growing feeling in his stomach would stop if he just slept with you. If he fucked you nice and hard that it would all go away. 

But the deed was done, and his feelings remained. 

Jack could see how badly he’d hurt you, but he didn’t see any way around it. He had to go. He had to leave. He was a coward and he was afraid. Looking at you, so happy and pliant with his spent dripping down your stomach— he just couldn’t stay. All Jack could see was Viv, her smile before she left to go get the milk he’d forgotten to buy because he had an exhausting night of stripping. It was the day before his last. He was quitting, he’d found a job at the distillery, something more stable he could do for when the baby came. And for her. 

He stops and stares. 

He feels sick. His mouth floods with saliva and bile, his stomach churns violently, he sees a tree nearby and leans over, emptying everything. His knees shake. While his throat burns and the stench breaks his nose, images of that night come to mind. How he got anxious after the first hour. How he called and called and called. No answer. How the police couldn’t reach him because he was constantly dialing Vivienne’s number. He remembers the way he stuck his bare feet into his boots to go and search for her, only to come face to face with two policemen. The eyes can be quite loud. Or maybe they were always loud for him. His heart sank into his chest. She was gone. His baby boy was gone. 

He hurls again, the leaves of the tree creating a symphonic backdrop accompanied by the gentle caress of the wind. He didn’t have anything else in his stomach anymore. Only bile coming out. It tastes like poison. 

Jack remains in the same position—half bent over, hand braced against the grooves of the thick tree. His eyes are teary. He thinks it has little to do with his throat burning and everything to do with Vivienne. He misses her. Misses her scent, her feel under his fingertips, kissing her swelled stomach for good luck before starting the day. 

He misses all of that, yet, he aches for you. He feels like shit for leaving you like that. Despite all of what he’d said and done, Jack doesn’t want you to hate him. 

Slowly, he raises. His grief clouds his vision. He can’t see the mess he made even though he’s staring right at it. Some sensible part of him is hoping no one saw. Or filmed him—a fear he had developed with the increasing popularity of Instagram and TikTok and whatever the fuck is popular now. 

His feet start moving again, the sound of his boots clicking against the pavement, but his mind is still at the bottom of the tree. Still lurching over, still vomiting. Thinking of her. 

Jack has a lot of regrets in his life. Now he has added another. 

You. 

Jack is a morning person—normally. 

But not today. Not when his head hurts like hell and his muscles ache in such a profound way that no matter how aggressively he gives himself a rub down it doesn’t go away. The sky is clear and he dares to glare at the sun. Staring until his eyes burn, tearing up right before he pulls his gaze away from the fiery orb hovering in space. 

He’d very much like to be the one hovering in space right about now.

The club is pretty much empty. A couple of guys sitting here and there sipping their coffee while Vodka—aka Steve—hugs the pool and dips down. Jack is not a fan of the poll. He prefers to sensually dance, he doesn’t like the sudden metallic chill that touches his burning skin during a routine. He heads to the bar where Tequila is restocking the fridge. Your seat is empty. Jack's heart clenches at the sight. 

“Hey there old timer,” he greets him. “You know where our firecracker regular is?”

“No,” he grunts, his shoulders raising. “Why the hell would I know?” 

Tequila’s sole eyebrow lifts along with the corner of his lip. His eyes soften with amusement, and just by the look, Jack knows he’s seconds to being incredibly, infuriatingly annoyed with the other man. Before Tequila can say anything, he waves him off, heading towards the dressing room. He doesn’t want to talk about it. Even if he did, Tequila would be the last person Jack would want to converse with about such a thing. He’s still feeling guilty about the whole ordeal. His brain screaming at him to give you a call, or write a letter or something apologizing. 

Of course, he does none of that. 

Instead, he gets ready. His eyes swiftly move over each and every outfit he has. Most of them are cowboy attire. Today he’s not really feeling it. He wants to be someone else and a change in outfit seems like the perfect way to go about it. He quickly tugs off his shirt and kicks off his pants, his chest and legs bare, he looks over the selection of clothes. His fingers graze over a red suit. It’s soft and light under his touch, and to accompany it, he picks a copper and black animal print shirt. It’s way more flashy compared to his usual outfits but he felt like it. He wants to look the opposite of what he’s feeling. 

The shirt is smooth like butter, cool against his sweat-slick skin. His only complaint would be the pointy shoes. It always rubs the back of his ankle the wrong way, leaving it hurting and bloody. 

Looking into the mirror, he slathers his fingers with a generous amount of hair gel and brushes the soft strands back. They curl slightly at the ends, sticking to his nape. When he’s satisfied, he drags a comb through them, making sure that everything is in place and slicked back. 

Just as he’s about to leave, Tequila pops his head through the door. “You have a call on line three.” 

“A’right, thanks, Teq.” 

The younger man promptly leaves and Jack reaches for the landline. The club is probably the only place where landlines still exist. He takes a seat, his palm flat on his thigh. A small sigh parts his lips, his body already feeling drained. Jack swallows thickly before answering. 

“Hello?” 

“Hello!” a chipper voice comes through the speakers of the phone. “This is Whiskey, right? My sister is getting married and we’re throwing her a bachelorette party and we wanted a stripper to liven things up a bit.” 

Jack smiles despite himself, “Of course, don’t know a better way to get a party goin’. When were you thinkin’ of havin’ it?” 

“This Saturday. Is that okay?” the voice suddenly sounds panicked, as if she might’ve been too late in asking. “Also it’s going to be at our house, I can send the address over.” 

“Sounds good, sugar,” the pet name tastes like iron in his mouth. He’s not sure why. “Let me give you my cell and you can text me all the details.” 

You’re heartbroken, poor beating muscle ripped apart and stomped on while still beating. Yet, the world still makes its lazy routes around the sun. The people around you none the wiser of the knot lodged in your throat, the tears that constantly linger in the corner of your eyes, burning. 

Jack certainly left his ever-lasting impression on you. You’re not sure what you could’ve done for a different outcome. He was so soft with you, so tender— then the switch had been flipped. His rage twisted at his lips, swirled in his eyes, and just like that he was gone.

You didn’t tell anyone about it. Just the thought of explaining everything exhausted you. Besides, you didn’t want to listen to your friends bad-mouthing him. You were protective of him. You held on to the hope that there was an explanation there. A reason that would soften your heart and everything would work out.

But days passed. You didn’t visit the club even though you missed Tequila and you never heard from Jack. 

Your anger festered like an irritated wound. The hurt, the sadness, all of it shifted into an emotion that was easier to handle, an emotion that was blinding and made you think of little else. If the world was adamant about moving forward, so would you. 

Your friend, Betty, was getting married in about a month and luckily, she was dead set on having the most unhinged bachelorette party ever. You’d make the most of it, promising yourself it would be the perfect distraction.

The wind blows warm, the trees that surround your friend's house dancing wildly as muffled music echoes into the blue-purple sky. You feel the breeze playing with the ends of your dress, lifting and teasing the fabric up your legs. You suck a sharp breath. Your heart beating in your throat ready to jump out of the bone and skin. Now that you’re here, staring at the imposing architecture —you often forgot that Betty was much more comfortable than you— all your bravado that built in your mind is dwindling. You take a step, then another. It will be okay. You’ll have a good time with your friends and sleep soundly tonight with alcohol lingering in your veins.

You wish, for once, things would go as planned.

“You called for a stripper?” 

In a weak attempt to hide the very obvious tremble in your voice, you swallow, again and again. Betty is absolutely radiant, her shapely brows coming together while giving you a startled look. She shrugs. “I mean. . . It’s a bachelorette party, of course, we hired a stripper. Why the big reaction?” Before you can answer she lets out a overexaggerated gasp and brings her hang to her chest. “Have you been a prude all this time baby?!” 

You snort at the question and shake your head, “No you idiot. I just. . . It’s okay, it’s fine. I just didn’t know.” 

“You’ve been so secretive lately,” she remarks, sucking the cherry of her cocktail between her lips. It reminds you of Jack, a longing tingling at your skin. She chews on the juicy fruit and just as you’re thinking of an excuse to get out of this cross interrogation, her eyes snap to something behind you. Her eyes sparkle, a wide grin stretching across her face. “Wow. . . “ she says wistfully.

You turn to see what got her so worked up, your eyes grow wide and you swear—swear your heart stops beating at that very moment. 

It’s Jack. 

Fucking hell.

Everything comes rushing back. Every ounce of emotion you tried so hard to shove deep inside bursting from every orifice. Your eyes sting, the know in your throat larger than ever. He hasn’t noticed you yet, too busy talking to Rachel, Betty’s sister, and maid of honor. You’re shaking like a chihuahua. What the hell is he doing here and what the hell are you supposed to do about it

“Whatever it is that’s going in with you, I’m sure a dance from that cowboy will certainly help,” Betty says, unaware that all you want is for the ground to swallow you whole.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, an awkward chuckle escaping your lips. “I’ll be right back.”

Before Betty can say anything, and before Jack spots you, you disappear between the halls. Your steps echo against the smooth marble. You’re not sure what your plan is since the bathroom was in the opposite direction of where you stormed off to. Some part of you wants to leave, perhaps run away screaming, but you know you won’t be doing that. It’s Betty’s night. And even though she has a habit of peeving you, you love her and want to be with her on her special night. Besides, she seemed really excited when she saw Jack. You can’t blame her, who wouldn’t be? 

He was as handsome as ever. His cowboy hat snug atop his head, shirt hugging his biceps as he strutted inside. You knew that walk. It was his stripper walk, he told you about it once, how he would move differently even when doing something as mundane as drinking water, or walking. 

Your steps come to a halt, the music of the party nothing but muffled, silent melodies now. You want to stay but you’re not sure how you’ll react seeing him dancing again. Memories come flooding back, reminding you of the love and hurt you felt in the short time that you got to know him. You wonder what his reaction would be like when he inevitably sees you. Would he act like the two you never met? Or would he just tilt his hat and greet you as if you were neighbors that barely talked? 

No matter his reaction, you have no doubt that it is going to sting.

You take a breath, furrow your brows, and turn on your heel. If anyone should be hiding it should be him, not you. You ignore the quick beat of your heart and head back towards the party.

There’s a stage, and an actual, god damn squeaky clean stage. 

You knew that Rachel was going all out with the bachelorette party and you knew Betty and her family were. . . Comfortable, but wasn’t this a bit much?

Seated between Rachel and Betty, both sisters gaze eagerly toward the stage as Jack ascends the stairs and positions himself at the center, his back turned to the audience. You hold your breath. It almost feels like you’re peeping on him. Hopefully, he won’t spot you among the crowd, you don’t want to look like you’re stalking him. 

Jack rolls his shoulders and relaxes his neck, tilting his head to one side and then to the other. Betty straightens in her seat, green eyes wide. Finally, he looks up, and with that, the music begins.

Have his performances always been so spiritual? There’s something about the way he moves that is slower compared to his usual routine. He turns and your eyes instantly drop to his crotch, the leather of the belt he’s wearing framing his bulge. You swallow thickly, heat pooling under your cheeks. Your thighs clench together with need. Damn it. You can't help but feel the tender ache he left behind while dragging himself in and out of you.

He rolls his hips and unbuckles his belt, which coaxes whistles and screams from the crowd. In a single fluid motion, Jack pulls the leather from the belt loops and uses it as a makeshift whip, cracking it in the air. His dark eyes search the crowd, presumably for the bride. Your eyes slowly drift to the crown glimmering on top of Betty’s head, your gaze moving back to Jack right after. 

Your entire body stills, your breath catches in your throat.

Your eyes lock with one another, his dark brows shooting up. He’s still moving with the music, hips swaying as he drags his fingers down sensually over each and every button. You press your lips together, wanting to tear your gaze away but also feeling as if it’s impossible. His breath hitches, unnoticed by everyone except for you. 

After what feels like an eternity, Jack drags his gaze from you to Betty, shooting the bride-to-be a toothy smile. 

“Now ain’t this a shame,” he drawls with a wink. “What a lovely woman to be snatched so soon.” 

Betty’s grin widens and you can’t help but feel a bit light-hearted. You’re glad that Jack is at least good at his job. He always makes people feel good. 

Jack begins his descent from the stairs and her cheeks flush. You’re as stiff as a board, some logical part of your brain screaming at you to push your chair back, add some more distance between what’s about to happen. His all-too-familiar scent fills your nostrils and you’re glued to where you are. Jack doesn’t so much as glance at you as he straddles Betty’s thighs, dipping low and arching his back as he comes back up, lips barely grazing her. 

It’s hard not to be reminded of the first dance he’d ever done for you. Your chest too tight for your heart, your body feeling too small to be holding every organ in. You want to tear your gaze away but you feel trapped by the cheering and the clapping. In trance, you lift your hands and add to the noise, a small whoop leaving your lips. 

You swear Jack cringes. It’s such a small movement, just a small jump in the muscle of his jaw and a small sneer turning at the corner of his mouth.

Good, you think, you don’t want to be the only uncomfortable one here.

Briefly, his eyes meet yours, a flicker of challenge in his eyes. You gape at the stare, does he think you clapped on purpose? To annoy him? He’s unbelievable. 

But no matter what your intentions were, his eyes shift back to Betty, finger digging into his shirt with a self-satisfied smirk. He straightens and tears the fabric, the sound of buttons hitting the floors hidden by the loud sensual music. You gape at the sight of his bare chest. Betty seems equally as shocked, her eyes rake his chest, hungry. 

Then, ever so gently, Jack takes a hold of her wrists and places her hand over his pecks, slithering back so her fingers move down his torso.

You weren’t jealous before,  but you can’t deny the fire that suddenly flares in your stomach. An ugly feeling fills your insides, clutches at your heart. Sharp nails bury themselves into the soft, tender muscle. He doesn’t look at you as he shifts on his feet, turning while rolling his hips. Betty laughs, her arms barely caging the width of his waist. Jack sinks down and guides her hands to his crotch, Betty flushes when he feels him, her smile still wide. 

He unbuckles his jeans and the crowd screams, meanwhile, you’re left dizzy, hands feeling numb as you clap. What the hell are you supposed to do in this situation? Leave? Continue to pretend that Jack is nothing more than a sexy stranger? Luckily you don’t have to think too much of it because he steps forward, leaving Betty’s arms to fall limp to her sides. You don’t know how, but as he walks towards the stage, the denim slips lower and lower, until the start of the swell of his ass is visible and his back dimples are in full view. Gifted from Venus herself. 

“I’m gonna need a volunteer,” he drawls into the microphone, the honeyed voice making every hair on your body stand with attention. Jack slowly turns on his heel, eyes glued to the bride-to-be, making it clear to the entire room who the volunteer should be. Your eyes shift to Betty, her bottom lip sucked between her teeth, shapely brows knitted tightly together. 

You realize, with horror, that she’s planning something. 

Before the thought can become something tangible, something that you can mull over, you find yourself being pushed forward. Your wrist yanked upward by a gentle, yet firm, hand. 

“We have a volunteer right here,” Betty calls out cheerfully. When you stare at her, wide-eyed and in shock, she winks at you. She mouths the words; have fun. 

No, you want to scream, you certainly won’t be having fun. Alas, you see no way around it as all the women around you begin to cheer, your ass being edged out of your seat by sheer volume alone. Your eyes find Jack’s as you take the first step. His lips are curled in a wicked smile, an expression that doesn’t reach the darkness of his eyes. You swallow. The noise fades when he extends a hand, a silent ask for trust that you’re not that willing to give. But you do. You lay yourself in the middle of his palm and he wraps his fingers around it, guiding you to the stage. Lights flicker around you, some white, some colorful. 

You stand like a doll in the middle of the stage, his body firm behind you, chest brushing your back. A shudder that you’re sure he won’t miss rolls down your spine. “Relax,” he murmurs into your ear. Involuntarily, you scoff. “You can leave,” he reminds you, nudging your arms to your sides and dragging the pads of his fingers across the delicate skin of your upper arms. His lips touch your cheek. “But that might raise some questions, darlin’.” 

Damn it, he’s smooth. 

You can’t really answer with everyone’s eyes glued on you both, so you make a sound that you hope expresses something along the lines of; I’ll stay but not for you, dickhead. You have doubts he got the message though. You assume you not running and cussing him out is probably a good enough of a sign for him to continue. 

Your pulse skyrockets as his hands find your hips, prompting you to sway along with him. It doesn’t help that you’re stiff as a board but you manage to follow his lead. The thick outline of his cock brushes against your ass, and your cheeks burn. Your body betrays you as it grows hotter and hotter, the seam of your underwear growing damp with every move. He intertwines his fingers within your own, lifting your arm and spinning you around so you face him. Before you have a moment to catch your breath, he dips. Your breathing hitches as he comes back up, mouth an inch away from your body, inhaling as if you were completely bare to him. 

Your knees start to shake. His hands slide down your back and nudge your legs apart before hooking afoot around your ankle. You find yourself sprawled upon the stage, knees bent with the soles of your shoes planted against the smooth floor. He towers over you, intimidating while standing tall between your legs. Jack doesn’t look down, eyes almost predatory as he observes the crowd. With a grin, he claps and hypes them all up. Both worry and excitement entangle around your heart, suffocating and squeezing your lungs. 

Confusion crosses your face when he turns instead, but whatever you’re feeling is short-lived. He drops himself to the floor, long legs threading yours, he flips you both, and suddenly, his body is flushed against your own. Your heart skips a beat, arousal pooling deep in your gut. You feel every inch as he grinds himself against you, fingers cupping your throat, mouth skimming your cheek—he inhales and you feel teeth grazing your skin. 

A moan parts your lips, a moan so silent that it’s drowned by the music and cheers, but not silent enough that it goes unnoticed by him. Every muscle grows tense. He smiles, something wicked and taunting reverberating out of him, another grind provoking you to raise your hips. Which you do, begrudgingly. Because you’ve missed him. Despite the anger. . . you still miss him, miss the weight of his body, the layering of his words.   

“I’ve missed you too, darlin’,” he whispers, his breath warm over your skin. The sentence sends a coldness down your spine that seeps into the very fabric of your being. A whimper shakes your throat. His lips move, but not a word comes out. You’re surprised to notice that you’re disappointed with the fact. 

You're being flipped over again, thick thighs straddling your waist as he comes to an almost plank position, your noses nearly brushing against one another. Jack grins and whips his upper body back, hand pushing back his hat and threading his hair. Thrusting into the air, he slides a palm down his torso. You watch in awe as his hand disappears beneath his pants, briefly grabbing himself before pulling his hand back. With the same hand, he holds your throat, leaning closer. The crowd goes wild. You hear the blood rush in your ear. 

The music comes to a close, the melody fading into the distance. Your eyes meet, and just as it does, a loud cheer bursts from the crowd. 

You’re both panting heavily, two sets of eyes eating the other up, engraving every detail to memory. The color of his eyes are darker than you remember, his lips a bit paler compared to your memory. He looks like he’s about to say something. You beat him to it. 

“Screw you,” you mouth at him, nostrils flared and gaze becoming one of steel. He’s startled but not surprised. You’re basically scrambling off the stage when he moves away, and disappear into the halls. You don’t care if it raises suspicion. You don’t care if Betty demands answers later on. You just want to vanish into thin air.

This isn’t how you expected this day to go. You were expecting to have fun, maybe get a bit tipsy and go home to relieve yourself further with the help of your vibrator. You, in no way, were expecting to run into Jack. It didn’t help that Betty volunteered you to go on stage. There’s an endless pit in your stomach now because of it. 

The halls seem endless. You walk and walk, not really having a clear vision of where you want to go. Maybe you should leave. The sound of the party is still roaring in the background. You wonder if Jack’s still dancing. You wonder if he stared as you left. Some part of you desperately wants to pick a fight, your nails itching to be buried in a soft surface—

You should leave. That’s the logical thing to do. And after everything you’ve been through, you’re not that keen about listening to your heart. 

You turn on your heel, heart ramming wildly in your chest, ribcage barely contaminating the muscle violent with emotion. 

Sadly, something warm and firm presses into your face—hard. Pain blossoms from the base of your nose, spreading throughout your face. You yelp and take a step back, the moment feeling oddly familiar as you rub a palm over your aching nose. 

“Sorry,” you hear him say, and finally your gaze lifts. You see him. Jack. Standing there like a kicked puppy, his hands somewhere between wanting to lay on his sides and reach out for you to soothe the pain. He does the former when your eyes flit between said hands and eyes, a pang of instant guilt overwhelming the color of them. “Are you a’right?” 

“You,” you say, the word bouncing against the back of gritted teeth. You point an accusatory finger at him. “Don’t get to ask me that.” 

“Fair enough,” he mutters. “At least let me do this since it was my fault.” 

His hand disappears into his jacket and he smoothly pulls out a tissue. He takes a step forward and your eyes go wide when you feel him pressing the soft material against your nose. You hadn’t felt the bleeding. Feeling slightly disoriented, your fingers curl around his hand, thinking he’ll move away so you can clog the bleeding yourself. He makes no such move. The heat from his fingers seeps into your skin even with the tissue in between. 

“I think that’s enough,” you say with a glare. “I’m fine now.” Jack finally lets go and you detest how cold you feel without his touch. You give your nose one last rub before lowering your hand, peeling the tissue away. At a loss, you stuff it into your purse. 

“What do you say?” 

The question catches you off guard, your brows furrow and he repeats himself. Slower this time. “What. Do. You. Say.” 

“What—” The tips of your ears burn and you swear if you were in a cartoon your air would be forming a spike right about now. “Are you expecting a damn thank you?!” 

“Perhaps,” he tuts. “Or maybe I just wanna talk and I’m lookin’ for a gateway to do so.” 

“Getting me angry isn’t the way to do that,” you inhale a sharp breath. “I don’t want to talk to you.” 

He takes a step, crowding you until your back is pressed snugly against the wall. Your breath catches in your throat, your anger and frustrations from earlier dwindling upon feeling his warm breath ghosting your cheek. His hand finds purchase over the empty spot right near your ear. You can almost taste him on your tongue. Involuntarily, you inch closer and your regret is immediate when you see the twitch of his lips. He tilts his head. His eyes bore into yours, searching for something, anything. They’re so dark. Almost black. 

With a sudden jerk of your head, you pull back, a thud echoing where your skull meets the wall, “What do you want?” you hiss. “A quick fuck?” 

The poison beneath your words startles even you. His eyes go wide. 

He doesn’t move away though. 

“That’s not why I’m here,” he rasps, voice dropping. He slips a leg between your own, your spine becoming a stick with the sudden jolt of electricity snapping through your body. His thigh firm and warm against your sex. When your hands grip his arms despite you, he grins. “But it seems like you wouldn’t mind it.” 

No. No, you wouldn’t. Fuck. What the hell is wrong with you? 

“Why?” you gasp as he pushes his leg further up, heat coiling in your stomach. You squeeze his biceps, and when you meet his eyes, he gives you a questioning gaze. “Why are you taunting me? Is it really that fun to string me along?” 

Jack attempts to pull back but your grip constricts. He remains, comes closer even, your bodies impossibly close. His hand slides down to your waist, thumb drawing slow, soothing circles. “I’m weak,” he answers simply. Like it’s meant to explain everything. “I’t not a matter of stringing you along or to taunt, darlin’. I just can’t keep away.” 

“I don’t want you to keep away,” you breathe, voice desperate and hoarse. “I just want you to explain, Jack. I want to understand.”  

You were telling the truth. You did want to understand. You want to see for yourself if he was worth forgiving or not, if whatever had gone through his head that prompted him to leave you in the middle of the night made sense. Even then—Even with the off chance that it does make sense, you still might find it hard to forgive him. 

Time stands still, the air heavy with your unanswered plea. You feel the tremor of his hand. He chews his bottom lip vigorously, contemplating his fight or flight response. It’s brief, but your gaze drops to his lips. So full, the bottom one plump from being abused between sharp teeth. Your tongue darts to lick your own lip, mimicking how you would soothe the ache of the tender muscle. A mistake, you’re quick to realize, because instead of explaining, he tempts your desires, crashing your mouths together, licking where you had just not moments ago. 

You surrender to him quicker than you thought. His tongue slips between your lips, tasting you, urging you to part for him further. You do. He traces every inch of your mouth with the tip of his tongue, pushing deeper. Heat licking the base of your spine, you grind down, the solid drag of his thigh against your cunt a delicious friction. 

“Jack,” you pant, he nips at your chin, his gaze finding your own. “Fuck, that feels nice.” 

“‘M about to make you feel even nicer,” he answers with a sultry drawl. Before your brain can register, he’s on his knees, bunching up your dress. He pulls down your underwear, leaving it dangling just a bit below your knees. You hold your breath as he inches closer. Hot breath ghosting your damp folds. He lays a tentative kiss over your mouth, a bit of tongue poking between his lips. When he looks up you’re mesmerized, dark lashes heavily framing his eyes. 

Jack doesn’t say a word as he begins his feast. He’s a man starved. Mouth and tongue leisurely moving between the delicate lips of your pussy and sucking the sensitive bundle of nerves that crown it. Your knees buckle. Thankfully, he keeps your hips firm against the wall, hand splayed wide over your thighs. Your moans are hushed, short gasps of air that fills your lungs rapidly. The aquiline curve of his nose bumps against your clit as he ventures deeper, tongue tracing your fluttering entrance. He retraces your opening, his hum falling on your skin.

You lift your hips off the wall, chasing the warmth of his mouth. He licks you with fat strokes, tongue flat, he follows the seam of your heat. You push your fingers through the damp, soft locks that frame the back of his head. He growls and brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing circles. The motion sends you into a frenzy. Eyes closing, you thrust against his pointed tongue. You swear he smiles as he fucks you shallowly with it, your orgasm quickly building to something indescribable. You tug at his hair, pulling him off of you. 

The sight takes you by surprise. 

His eyes are glazed over, only lust and need swirling in them. Your gaze follows the opening of his lips, a gasp parting them while his thumbs stroke the heated skin of your thighs. His lips glisten under the dimmed light, mustache soaked with the pure essence of you. Jack clears his throat before he speaks, not breaking eye contact as his tongue swipes sensually over his bottom lip. “Use me,” he breathes heavily, voice nothing but gravel. “Take what you need, darlin’.” 

You note the tell-tale signs of losing control. His words warm your stomach. Something primal and possessive taking over. You bring a hand to his cheek, thumb right above the tender skin that resides right under his eye. As you drag the finger down, you make a point of grazing your nail. His breath hitches and your eyes go wide. Your chest heaves, breathing suddenly the hardest thing you can do. 

“You enjoy seein’ me on my knees, sugar?” he asks, a weak tease to his tone. You don’t answer. 

“Touch yourself,” you say instead, voice soft contrary to the command. Jack obliges, bringing a hand between his legs. He palms himself over his tight jeans, pupils dilating as he holds your gaze. You swallow. “Good boy.” 

“Fuck,” he rasps. “Fuck—” he grinds himself into his palm, frustrated. “Do I make you feel good, darlin’? Tell me. Tell me how good I make you feel.” 

The air between your crackles. More slick dripping down the inside of your thighs. He swallows thickly and you notice the traces of fear that you won’t give him what he so desperately needs. Craves. And maybe you shouldn’t give it to him. Maybe you should just pull him back and ride his face until you’re soaking him. But your resolve has already cracked. Been like that ever since you stepped on the stage, giving him that trust again. 

You bring him back, his tongue darting by instinct. He circles your clit, eyes still fixed on you. Your breathing slows. “You make me feel amazing,” you mutter, a bit breathless. “Which is a problem because I never seem to get enough.” 

You expect him to laugh, snort, or at least shoot you one of those mischievous grins—he doesn’t. His eyes flutter closed and he inhales you, signaling the end of the conversation, he buries his mouth deep. His lips tighten around your clit and he flicks at it with the tip, your pulse skyrockets, your breathing coming in short. When your hips move away from the wall once more, he slams them back, a growl reverberating in his chest. He moves his head from side to side, tongue relentless. 

Every nerve in your body is electrified. Skin taut over muscle. Your head falls back, knocking against the wall. He forces his tongue inside and resumes circling his thumb over your clit. Your moans become loud, uncaring as you feel the gentle scrape of his teeth. “Jack,” you moan. “I’m—fuuuck—I’m ‘bout to come—” 

The confession seems to stir something wild inside him. He laps at your soaked cunt and meets your gaze, knocking the air from your lungs a second time that night. 

He pushes you over the edge, your inside pulsing as you come. The halls around you spin and your arms loosely coil around his head, hanging on for dear life. His tongue is still moving. Licking, tasting everything you have to offer. Tingles spread throughout your body, goosebumps rising across your skin at the chill of the hallway. 

Jack gives you one final lick before pulling away and standing. Suddenly, he seems larger than life, you realize you prefer him on his knees, at least for now. 

“What do you want?” he asks, and your eyes drop to where his hand rubs over his hard-on. Memories of his cock splitting you wide open flash before your eyes, your inside clenching at the phantom feel. However, despite you both knowing what you want, you can’t voice it. You don’t have it in you to ask him to fuck you. So, you turn around, your forearms bracing the wall. His palms move up from the back of your legs to your ass, he squeezes gently before sliding up to your waist, taking the ends of the dress with it. 

His lips touch your nape and you tense at the gesture. He must’ve felt it because Jack moves away, slipping his cock inside of you. He slides in with ease. Like you were made for him. A choked-out sound leaves you, his hips flush against the swell of your ass. 

“Feels so good, darlin’,” he mutters, lips hovering an inch away from your skin. “Missed this pussy.” 

Jack doesn’t waste time any time, knowing that your time is limited and someone might walk by at any second. His pacing is brutal. Cock filling the tight fist of your cunt with hard thrusts. Your brows knit with pleasure, mouth hanging open. If it wasn’t for the wall and Jack’s solid presence behind you, you’re positive you’d collapse. His hand slides up your torso and cups your breasts. Your back arches, pleasure rolling down your spine. He traces the column of your neck with his tongue and you shudder at the feeling. 

“You’re loud, sugar,” he warns. “Not that I’m complainin’ but I’m assumin’ you don’t wanna get caught with your pants down. Literally.” 

You shake your head vigorously, words failing you. But the movement of your head is all it takes for him to cover your mouth, moans bouncing off of his palm. The wet sounds flood the hall, deafening to your ears. The heavy drag of his cock is heavenly, your body clenching and begging him not to leave. He makes a choked sound, head falling between your shoulder blades. His nails bite into your skin, pulling you against him, pushing into you harder. 

“I ain’t gonna last,” he groans. 

You’re quick to reply, fear curling at your heart, “Don’t come on me.” 

You don’t think you can handle him leaving you again in such a vulnerable state. 

He rolls his hips and you feel every tantalizing inch. “Okay,” he answers, the previous raps of his tone becoming something somber, bittersweet. “Okay,” he repeats. “I won’t.” 

The pleasure that had been building flickers away like a dying flame. His pacing slows, wild thrusts becoming indulgent, slow. He grinds himself deeper with every push of his hips and your eyes roll. It feels good. Amazing. Breath shortening. But you can’t deny that the previous rush is gone. Time is once again moving, reality becoming the most solid thing around you. He’s going to come and leave. Your vision blurs. 

It doesn’t take him long, he pulls out and you feel incredibly cold and empty. So much so that you shiver as you press your forehead into the wall. You want to turn around. Watch him, see the desperate snap of his hips. Watch him make a mess of his hand. However, you remain in place, refusing to look. 

He grunts and his breath becomes labored. You hear the faint whisper of your name falling from your lips—then silence, only soft, slow breathing. You finally turn then, seeing the tissue in his hand briefly before he stuffs it in his pocket. 

“I—” he starts, meeting your gaze. You raise a hand. 

“I know. You’re going to say you can’t see me again and all that bullshit. I’m leaving don’t worry.” 

You barely fix your dress, swiftly heading towards the exit of this ridiculously large building. He calls out to you, asking you to wait but you refuse. You’re not going to wait for him to break your heart again. You don’t need to see the pity in his eyes. Your poor thundering heart can’t take it. 

The sun is gone. The sky a mixture of dark blues and blacks. You take a deep breath of the crispy air, allowing yourself to stall just a moment before searching for your car. You’re outside, yet you still feel suffocated. Pleasure still simmers under your skin. Already missing, aching for his touch. You ball your hands into tight fists, allowing your nails to bite into the tender flesh of your palm. You welcome the mild pain. At this point, you would welcome anything that provides the bliss of forgetfulness. 

“Get back here!” 

You flip him off without looking. You swear you hear him snort with amusement. The bastard. 

“At least let me explain—” he sounds desperate, his voice grows closer. You shake your head even though he can’t see and hug your jacket, your car should be close. . . You don’t stop. You can’t. A broken hiccup parts your lips and the tears you fought so hard against finally escape. You wipe them with the heel of your palm. 

“I’m sorry!” 

And as if time itself stood still, you stop dead in your tracks. The silence between you grows, his steps coming closer. 

All that hurt, all the anger. It finally boils over. 

“For WHAT?!” You turn around, the wind howling around you. Tear streaks chill over your cheeks. “Are you apologizing for that night, or right now? Do you have any idea how hard it was to force myself to go out tonight?! Are you aware how much it hurts to fucking look at you?!” 

He’s not as far as you thought he was. Only a couple of steps between you two. Your eyes drop to his feet and back to his face again. He stops. For the first time, Jack seems at a loss for words. His brows come together in remorse, lips parted with words unsaid. You shake your head, hands still in fists, you’re not at a loss for words, however, all of it piles up in your throat like a dam. The world stands still. The only giveaway that time is still moving is the wind. Icy whips of air irritating your skin. 

“You hurt me,” you say, surprisingly clear despite the knot in your throat. “Do you understand what that means, Jack? I’m hurt. There’s a bleeding wound in my chest because I stupidly thought—” Your chest caves in and you avert your gaze. “I thought you might actually look past all the fucked up parts of me. Maybe it was selfish of me but it made me happy to think I might be the one you would open up to. That me, being the way that I am, would be enough. But in the end. . . I didn’t even get an explanation. You just left.” 

You drag your gaze back to him. You’re not sure but you think he took a step closer while you were speaking, his hands outstretched like he’s fighting the urge to pull you into a bear hug. His eyes glimmer under the faint moonlight. As if every word you said hurt him just as much as it did to speak them. You shake your head again. “Just leave.” 

“No,” he chokes out, closing the gap. His fingers curl around your wrist. He must’ve seen your flight response starting to take over. You don’t fight the iron grip. “I—I don’t think you’re fucked up,” he blurts, unintelligently. “I don’t think any of that. In fact, I think the opposite, you’re too good for me, sunshine. You. . . I’m a coward, I couldn’t handle the love in your eyes. Couldn’t handle being that for someone again. But. . . I want to try, sugar. I want to try and be that someone for you. I don’t want to run away from this.” 

You stand silent, shocked. You can’t see it for yourself, but you know your gaze has warmed up to be something soothing and understanding. 

“I lost her,” he says. “Viv. . . she was my everythin’ and one day she was just. . . gone. My—My little boy along with—” 

You shatter. All of the anger, the hurt, your icy resolve melting and becoming a puddle at your feet. You cradle his face, catching the first tears with the pad of your thumb. His arms coil around your waist, muscles tight around your frame. He’s not looking at you, he’s looking at a random spot on the concrete. 

“She went out for milk,” he continues, broken. “She was still pregnant, two months. . . two months later I would’ve,” he cuts himself off. “I should’ve left instead but she argued that I was tired from work and that she needed to stretch her legs. I let her go. An hour later the police were at my door, telling me that she got caught in a gun fight between two rival gangs. Shot. Dead.” 

He spat the last words out, his guilt, his hatred for the world laced in every one of them. 

“That’s why I couldn’t. With you. I don’t deserve a second chance, darlin’.” he finally meets your eyes, and for the first time you see him for what he truly is. A good man, broken and lost. Just like you. “I’m afraid of losin’ you.” 

“Who says you don’t deserve a second chance?” you whisper, your thumbs stroking the delicate skin. “I’m sorry, Jack. I’m sorry you had to go through all that. I—I didn’t know. And I don’t want to lie and say you won’t lose me, life is unpredictable but. . . I promise that this,” you point between the two of you. His gaze follows your hand as it rests on his chest. “Deserves a chance. I’ve never felt anything like I have with you. You make me happy, Jack. As simple as it sounds. And. . . well. . .” your lips crack into a heartfelt smile and when he sees, he lets out a breath. “I’ve already fallen pretty hard for you. As you can guess.” 

His hands come up to your cheeks, holding you as delicately as one would a rose. Instinctively, you lean into his touch, eyes fluttering closer and smiling. “I think this deserves a chance too,” he mutters, his breath tickling your lips. “Will you have me, darlin’? Fucked up parts and all?” 

He brushes your lips together, prompting the grin that is quick to form, “Only if you’ll have me, cowboy.” 

Jack’s fingertips trace the contour of your lips before lightly pressing against them. His touch is gentle and warm. His lips come slowly towards yours, and when they meet, it is heaven itself. 

His hands slide down your neck and around your waist. His mouth moves in perfect harmony with yours as his tongue lightly skims across your lips. 

You can feel the heat radiating from his body as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer. His mouth moves feverishly desire and your body starts to respond in kind. And when he breaks the kiss, you’re surprised to see Betty’s house behind him, completely forgetting where you were. 

“Of course, darlin,” he smiles, brushing his mouth over your forehead. “Of course.” 

#agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x female reader #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x female reader #kingsman the golden circle #kingsman fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #stripper!jack

[guccifrog]

°˖✧THE BAKERY GIRL✧˖°

ᵐᵃᵗᵗ ˢᵗᵘʳⁿⁱᵒˡᵒ ˣ ᶠ!ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ : ⁿᵒⁿᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶠˡᵘᶠᶠ

summary : in which reader has a crush on one of her ususal customers and he finally makes a move

ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡ ᵒʳ ᶜᵒᵖʸ ᵐʸ ʷᵒʳᵏ // ⁱ'ˡˡ ᶠᵘᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵘᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇⁱᵗᶜʰ

Kingston

Faye webster ♥︎

⇄ ◁◁ 𝚰𝚰 ▷▷ ↻

⁰⁰'²⁵ ━━●━━───── ⁰²'⁰⁸

ִ✮🍰୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆🍰✮

The sun had barely begun its drop into the horizon, painting the sky with hues of pink and orange, when you stepped outside the bakery for a quick cigarette break. You were a student at the local art school, working part-time at the bakery to make ends meet.

As you lit up your cigarette, you closed your eyes and took a deep drag, feeling the warmth of the smoke fill your lungs. You exhaled slowly, watching the gray tendrils of smoke mix with the vibrant colors of the sunset.

It was on one of these evenings that you noticed him.

His name was Matt, a rich college student who seemed to have it all, He would come to the bakery every Monday and Friday and sometimes on weekends, always at this time, to buy something.

At first, you assumed it was for his girlfriend, as he would always buy something pink and frilly, but as the days went by, you couldn't help but wonder why he always seemed to choose this bakery, and why he always came at this exact time.

One night, as you were wiping down the counter, you glanced up and caught him looking at you. His eyes were low, almost piercing, and for a moment, you felt as though you could feel his gaze on your skin. And you quickly averted your eyes, feeling a blush creep up your neck. From that moment on, you found yourself becoming more aware of him, his presence, and the way he made you feel.

As the days went by, you couldn't help but wonder what he was really doing here almost every evening. Was he seeing someone else? Was he married? These questions filled your mind, and you found yourself fantasizing about him late at night, his face engraved into your memory. You began to look forward to his visits, even if it was just for a moment of a stolen glance or a simple 'hey, how are you doing today?'

You took one last drag from your cigarette, throwing it under your shoe before turning back toward the bakery.

As you stepped through the doorway, you felt a flutter in your stomach as you caught sight of none other than Matt himself, standing at the counter, chatting with the cashier. His eyes met yours, and for a split second, you felt like the entire world had vanished, leaving just the two of you.

"Hello," he said, his voice quiet and smooth, as he waved you over to the counter. You couldn't help but smile shyly in response, feeling a wave of heat wash over your cheeks. "I'm sorry if I've been a bit…distracting, coming here almost every night. I just can't seem to stop thinking about this place, and the desserts you make." His gaze lingered on you for a moment, and As you stood there, a sudden sensation swirled in the pit of your stomach.

It was as if a thousand butterflies had suddenly taken flight within you, their wings beating in perfect unison.

'I know ' is what you wanted to say, but that just sounds creepy. Instead, you smiled and said, "It's alright, really. I'm glad you like the desserts." His smile widened, revealing a dimple on his cheek.

You spent the rest of your shift talking with Matt, finding yourself lost in conversation as the hours slipped by. You learned that he was majoring in business, but had always had a passion for writing and art, much like yourself.

As the bakery began to close for the night, you found yourselves outside, the cool air of the evening surrounding you. "I know that we don't know each other that well but…do you…do you want to get something to eat?" he asked, his voice soft and hesitant.

You felt a rush run through you at his invitation. "I'd like that," you replied, trying to sound casual, but not quite managing it.

You followed him to a small, cozy restaurant a few blocks away. The lights were dim, the atmosphere warm and inviting. The waiter led you to a booth in the back, and as you slid in beside Matt, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building within you.

As you scanned the menu, Matt leaned in close, his breath tickling your ear. "What would you like to eat?" he asked, his voice low.

Your heart raced at his closeness, and you had to remind yourself to breathe as you answered, "I'll have the salmon if it's okay." He nodded, still watching you closely, before looking back at the menu. "I'll have the same," he murmured, before handing the menu back to the waiter.

As you waited for your food, you couldn't help but study Matt's face. He was even more handsome up close, with his dark brown hair and piercing blue eyes. He caught you staring and smiled shyly, his dimple appearing again. "What are you thinking about?" he asked, his voice gentle.

You felt your cheeks heat up as you realized you'd been caught, but you didn't mind. "Nothing important," you replied with a small laugh. "Just enjoying the moment."

The food arrived, and you both dug in, savoring the flavors. Conversation flowed easily between you, touching on everything from your favorite books and movies to your dreams and goals. You found yourself lost in his gaze, forgetting about the world around you as the hours ticked by.

And as the evening wore on, you grew bolder, leaning in closer to him, laughing at his jokes, and getting a little touchy. He seemed to enjoy your company as much as you enjoyed his.

The waiter brought over the check, and Matt reached for his wallet, but you quickly placed your hand on top of his. "I've got it," you insisted, smiling at him. He looked at you for a moment like you grew a third eye "Well that's crazy," he said before quickly grabbing your hand and handing the waiter the check. "But thank you for offering." He smiled and you were too distracted by the fact that he was still holding your hand to even complain.

After dinner, you both decided to walk off some of your meal. The air was cool and crisp, the stars shining bright overhead. Matt looped his arm through yours, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. "Where to?" he asked, his voice playful. You glanced around, taking in your surroundings. There was a small park just a block over, and it seemed like a nice, quiet place. "How about the park?" you suggested, already beginning to lead him in that direction.

As you walked, you felt as if you were floating, unaware of anything except the moment you were sharing with this guy that you've been fantasizing about for god knows how long.

The park was beautiful, with well-manicured yards and all different types of flowers. You found yourselves sitting on a bench, gazing out at the fountain, the water dancing and sparkling in the glow of the moonlight.

You couldn't remember the last time you had felt this comfortable and at ease with someone.

The silence between you wasn't awkward, but instead felt natural, like you didn't need words to communicate.

After several moments of companionable silence, he offered to walk you home since it was getting late. You smiled and agreed, you both walked hand in hand back to your neighborhood.

And as you neared your house, you felt a strange mix of nervousness and excitement. You weren't sure if you wanted this to end, it all felt like a dream that you never wanted to wake up from.

When you finally reached your doorstep, you turned to face him, wanting to say something but not quite sure what. He must have sensed this too, because he leaned in and gently brushed a piece of hair behind your ear. His touch sent a shiver down your spine. "I had a really good time tonight," he murmured, his eyes searching yours for the same honesty. You smiled softly up at him and nodded. "Me too."

You were feeling extra bold, so you got on your tiptoes and leaned in, giving him a small peck on the cheek. His eyes widened slightly, and for a moment you wondered if you had gone too far, but then he closed them and leaned into your touch.

"Well," you said, trying to keep your voice steady, "thank you again for dinner." He smiled "Goodnight Matt," you said before turning the key in the lock and disappearing inside. You couldn't help but glance back out the window, watching as he walked away.

ִ✮🍰୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆🍰✮

taglist ✧˖°.

@mattestrella @littlebookworm803 @sturniolooooo @athaliahxoxo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @crybabycat1 @ducksturniolo @pepsiimaxx @sleepysturnss @ilovemattsworld @secret-sturniolo @fuckshitslover @lvr-111 @opheliaofficial07 @chrislapdog @therealcody1 @rodysuntiedtie

#matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #matt #matthew sturniolo x you #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #christopher owen sturniolo #chris sturniolo x y/n #lets trip tour #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo texts #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fluff #christopher sturniolo texts #let's trip #fresh love

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | part fourteen preview

Blue holds her arm out, stopping you from taking another step.

"Sh. I see one."

Up ahead, a squirrel stills on a tree, beady eyes unblinking. In a matter of seconds, Blue throws her knife and pins it to the bark through the stomach. 

"Nice," you comment. "You got it on the first try this time."

In your hand is the other squirrel she killed for you. Ghost started working on your bow yesterday. He didn't say anything to you about it, but you spotted him sitting on the porch chiseling away at a hunk of oak. Until he's finished, you've struck another deal: helping Blue skin the rabbits in exchange for her killing squirrels with you. She's better at killing them with a knife than you are, and you needed something to get you off the couch, anyway.

"This is good practice for me." She wriggles the knife out and hands you the kill. "Poor guy didn't see it coming."

"Probably better that way."

She slips the knife back to her ankle. "Do you need more? Or is two enough."

"Two is enough. I saw these flowers by the trench that I think are edible."

"You can eat flowers?" She makes a face. The two of you begin heading back toward the camp. You didn't go off too far with her. Ghost said she wasn't allowed to go past the pond without him. Truthfully, you were surprised he let her go with you at all. 

"Yeah. Pink Sorrel. They taste lemony, and I'll add the leaves, too. Like a salad."

"Yum," she says sarcastically. "Did Paul teach you that?"

You nod. "He knew a lot about plants."

"Are you sure he didn't like you?" 

"Blue," you almost groan. "You've asked me this twice now."

"Well, you seemed to have spent a lot of time with him, and he taught you a lot of things."

"You can spend time with someone and learn things from them without... liking them."

"I wouldn't know," she shrugs, waving her hand around. "There are no boys here for me to spend time with besides Ghost." 

There is a pause as a cloud rolls over the sun, turning everything dim before it passes. The weather these past few days has been fluctuating like true spring. Cold showers in the morning, intense sunlight by noon, and clouds that come and go. The cabbages Blue planted have sprouted fat, juicy leaves. You've mentally scolded yourself for not including seeds in your deal with Ghost. 

"So when are you and him going to start training or whatever?" Blue speaks up, switching subjects.

"Training?" you repeat.

"He told me you wanted to learn some things." She glances at you. "Look, let me just warn you, he can be a real hard ass. One time, he made me climb up and down a tree twenty times without stopping. And another time, he made me throw knives over and over until I hit the exact same spot on the tree again."

Right. Somehow, that last request you made of him has slipped your mind. You did ask him to teach you how to better defend yourself against other people.

It's been over a week now, and the two of you still haven't talked much except for the necessities. Honestly, it's probably best that way. Maintaining a clinical relationship with him should keep the peace and maybe even earn more of his trust. You're growing confident that he doesn't see you as much of a threat anymore. Last night, you ran into him again after waking up sweaty at some odd hour, and all he did was walk past you, step outside for a cigarette, and then go back to his room. He didn't seem suspicious of you being up at all.

That said, the reminder of the 'training' he's supposed to give you makes your teeth snag onto your lip. 

When you don't respond, Blue adds, "What exactly do you want him to show you? I hate to say it, but I don't think he'll give you one of his guns."

"No," you shake your head. "I don't want that. It's not Greys that I'm as worried about. As long I've got distance, I can use my bow for them. It's more about... other people. They get close. Too close."

"Well, you can always bite their nose off," she gives a bump to your shoulder.

You cringe. "I'd rather not have to do that again."

She pauses, looking at her boots. "What did it taste like?"

"Fucking awful. Probably the grossest thing I've ever experienced."

She looks up. "If you were a Grey, you would've loved it."

"Well, I'm human still, and I much prefer these guys." You wag the dead squirrels in front of her face and she laughs. If you could replace all her tears with that sound, you would.

"You still haven't answered my question," Blue tilts her head. "When are you getting started? Because I have some training in mind for you, too."

You arch a brow but don't question it. "Um. I don't know. Ghost hasn't said anything to me about it, and he's busy working on my bow right now."

"Why don't you ask him, then?" She shoots you a knowing smirk. "Are you scared of him, Twix?"

"No," you say all too quickly. "No... I'm not. I just don't know how to talk to him. He's not exactly approachable."

"Just do what I do. I say whatever I want to him. Except when he's pissed, then—" she freezes for a moment and lays a hand on your shoulder. "—it's better to shut up and listen. Believe me."

You speak under your breath. "Noted."

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #fanfiction

[heartfullofleeches]

Hello pardon me just passing through but I just imagined Peach and BlackBerry arguing while reader is watching all stressed out and the normal milk character just whisks them away promising comfort

Tfw when you're just a cute little farmer trying to get your neighbors with fat crushes on you to get along, but the only thing they have on common besides their obsession with you is that they'd kill each other as soon as you turn your back- [I have so many pretty cow ladies oml]

-

"What are you doing here?

"I could ask you the same thing."

This wasn't going well. You hoped they'd at least make out it to the field before they started picking fights. Both were well aware that the other would be here - you told them so in the invitation. They most likely overlooked that tidbit in favor of spending time with you. If only their mutual interest in you led to a more positive connection.

Peach scoffs. "I'm here because my babe asked me to help them out. You think I'd be out here in these shoes for any other reason? I'm more ssurprised to see you out of your coffin so early in the day."

"Like you won't be gone the second you get a little dirt under your nails. You're so clingy can't you just let them have a single moment with someone else without you hovering over them?"

"Nope. If I did that - you might actually think you have a chance with them."

What could've possibly made this seem like a good idea? You thought you'd be killing two birds with one stone by inviting them out to the farm - seeking to help qwell their rivalry by asking them to help you with your last bit of chores. You requested their assistance with picking crops as it was one of few tasks Peach would do without complaining and the harvest would make for a well deserved reward for their efforts. It was a perfect plan in theory. Execution was another story.....

Good thing you invited others to join you.

"Farmer!"

A pair of strong arms pluck you off your feet and against the chest of the bull woman who's heart pounded loudly in her chest from her race from her truck to you. Oil rubs off on your shirt and sticks to your skin as she presses you tightly to her - tail smacking your tight as another, quieter pair of footsteps approach from the direction she came. A gloved hand taps her shoulder - gentle eyes gazing over her shoulder at you with fondness.

"Good afternoon, Farmer. We would have came sooner, but this one refused to shower before leaving her shop. I had to take her keys just to get her into the bathroom, and yet she's still a mess. At least the chance of a grease fire has been reduced.

"Ah, I keep tellin' ya it's a waste of time. We could've spent the whole morning with them if you hadn't forced me to wash up.

An unlikely pair these two made - a prim and proper maid, and the grease junkie king of the local junkyard. Ginger lived for creating messes, and Milk enjoyed cleaning them up. Their union was uncommon, but they could safety call one another allies especially when it came to you.

"Ginger! Milk! I'm so glad you guys could make it, thank you so much for coming."

"It's our pleasure..." Milk looks past you, pointing at the two still bickering at your doorstep. "Will those two be joining us?"

You glance back at Peach and Blackberry.

"You must think you're sooo perfect. Won't have that pretty face to hide behind when I skin it off you."

"Was that a threat? Are you threatening me? So you know how many chances I've had to get rid of you? You're lucky I even let you step foot on their property."

"You're lucky I let you breathe the same air as us."

You quickly turn away as Peach screams in frustration"I don't think so...."

Ginger chuckles - her hands falling to your waist and locking on. "More for us then. Let's get this show on the road."

"Wha- Hey!" Laughter bursts from your chest as Ginger scoops you up and throws you onto her shoulder - wrapping her thick arms around your legs to keep you in place. Milk picks up the basket you brought out with you and follows behind the two of you as Ginger matches towards the field. The maid places her hand on your back to keep you stable as the mechanic pumps her fist in the air in celebration. Your smiling face as you're carried off is captured by the two left alone on your porch who briefly paused their argument to gain your input on the issue at hand. They look at each other, then Ginger's truck.

"...... Twelve o'clock. I'll slash the tires if you break the windows."

"Deal."

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #female yandere #yandere insert #yandere oc #yandere blurb #yandere scenarios #yandere hybrid #Milk farm tag #yandere harem #Farmer reader

[gyjo-enthusiast]

special case. ch.2

retired!nanami x younger!sorcerer!reader

summary: during field training, each student is assigned one semi-grade 1 or higher ranked sorcerer. after the last student is left without a mentor, her professor pairs her up with his old, retired grumpy friend.

reader is in their 20s (attending college), afab!reader, fem pronouns

tags: fluff, eventual smut, colleagues with benefits (is that a thing?), age gap (reader in early 20s, nanami in mid 30s), virgin reader

previous chapter: special case. ch.1 | next chapter: to be finished

chapter summary: during the first day of field training, you successfully defeat a high-grade curse alone. after lunch though, there seems to be a problematic fight when you should be watching your mentor fight a cursed spirit.

proofread: yes

word count: 1 269 (4m 45s)

song rec:

jumping through the unusually dark alley, you hunted the cursed spirit your mentor had mentioned earlier. it was fat and sleazy, but its legs were skinny and it ran as if its life depended on it. and it did.

reaching under your coat, you quickly whipped out your cursed weapon and followed the blob of sorrow and hatred. it was a long, although fairly light, double-edged sword with a fancy hand-decorated handle.

nanami was quite surprised at that, being a cursed tool user himself. he thought all the young guns had to be top notch and have their own special techniques, not to mention domain expansions, to get into jujutsu college. even then, he'll wait for a bit more before judging, just to see how well you're going to do.

of course, you did not want to disappoint - you could not - after all the trouble he's going through just for the sake of teaching you. leaping forward, you swiftly cut off two of the monster's six legs and started chipping away at its skin.

'not bad,' you thought to yourself, small smile making its way to your face as you tried to keep up.

"not bad," a voice suddenly said behind you, making you almost stumble, "keep it up, l/n."

oh, you were not letting this curse get away from you, the slightest of blushes appearing, both from the praise and the excessive physical activity.

speeding up to quickly finish the job, your sword - purposefully named severance - slickly severed the cursed spirit's head, along with some of his gross dark shoulder hair. some of its remains got splattered on your shoes, but that could wait.

hastily returning to nanami, you asked: "how did i do, sir?" to which you got an approving nod and an expression which you could only assume was one of consideration.

you looked around, just to make sure nothing was creeping out there, and then you finally started cleaning up your shoes.

"l/n," you heard after a bit, "you're quite skilled i take it."

you smiled awkwardly, "you can call me y/n. and i wouldn't consider myself 'skilled' exactly," your mentor nodded. "everybody has their ups and downs when it comes to fighting. maybe i've just been lucky to survive!" you laugh it off as a horrible joke, hoping he'd smile at the very least.

"yes.. me too." he looks at you with guilt in the eyes as he continues, "although i do think you have the potential if you keep this up." he sends a soft smile your way.

"thank you, sir."

"just stay strong and focus, all in your own time," nanami focuses up and starts walking.

"of course," you follow up behind him, "where are we going to now?"

"well, it's already 11:32. it will take a bit to find a good place but for now, let's eat somewhere before we continue," he turns his head to talk to you and then immediately looks ahead once again.

to be honest, you didn't even believe he ever took any breaks on the job, let alone ate lunch. nevertheless, you couldn't wait to treat yourself after that satisfactory exorcism.

you spent a while looking for an adequate place to eat, ultimately deciding to take a seat in a simple yet homely bakery. both of you bought their signature bread, silently enjoying the view of the street.

with no words needing to be spoken, you observed how nanami acted with nobody but you around. he was stoic, but once every few minutes his expression softened.

after lunch, when nanami checked his watch, you both set out to find another curse. this time though, you'll be the one watching - and learning - from none other than your mentor.

'this curse is way stronger.. what's going on?' you thought, being careful to watch nanami's flank as well as keeping an eye out for him. it's not that he would need it necessarily, but better be safe than sorry.

your mentor bashed at the curse with his weapon, except it was hard to get a decent hit in while also guarding. at this point you felt useless, only watching from afar. wanting, no - needing, to help nanami, you took a step forward, suddenly remembering the words he spoke before you approached the curse.

"i won't need help, don't worry. if i do, i'll call for you. just defend the fight from weaker curses," his voice rang in your ears as you froze in place.

not wanting to disappoint, you stood still and helped the only way you could - that was to be ready to strike down any curse that approached.

and in a trice, you heard a roar behind you.

"y/n! above!" nanami shouted your way before turning back to the problem at hand.

you turned your gaze to the sky and sure enough, there was a cursed spirit. it was dropping down so quick you barely had any time to react and dodge.

just before it thwacked onto the ground, it pulled out its tiny wings, slowing itself. when it was sure it wouln't hurt itself, the bizarre flying cursed spirit fell to the ground, briefly not being able to move.

you were gobsmacked, not fully processing what had just happened.

"snap out of it, i got a lot going on here! i can't defeat both of them y/n," nanami breathed out, his energy surely running low from not fighting for such a long time.

and snap you sure did, just maybe not out of it.

"are you insane?! you just almost killed all of us, including yourself!" you shouted, discarding your cloak. unsheating severance, you let your canines shine in the afternoon sunlight, grinning out of your mind.

your mentor, as any person would, thought this remark was aimed at him, so he briskly sent you a look. that was until he saw the animalistic expression you wore, that changed everything.

slashing your sword in the curse's singular eye, you noticed it was being sinked in, almost like into quicksand. you laughed and revealed another weapon hidden on you, that being foulblade. as the name suggests, it was a blade the opponents didn't expect, so they might call it a foul. you pulled it out only if severance was not available at the moment.

with the newly sharpened shorter sword you started cutting across the monster's body, mainly face, leaving behind ugly scars that were soon to be removed completely, as you stabbed it in the heart and exorcised it. you felt cursed energy overflowing within you at that moment, having to calm yourself down.

when you came to your senses, cleaning your blades, a few minutes later, nanami approached you from behind.

"are you okay, y/n?" he rested a hand on your shoulder. startled, since you didn't even sense him coming, you just nodded. he sighed, "i dealt with the curse, we're done here for the day, okay?" he reassured you.

"okay.. sorry about," you paused, now fully remembering what happened, "sorry about that." you finally finished your sentence, guilt filling up your eyes, hands shaking as you stood up from where you were sitting.

"don't apologise, nothing happened. you saved me after all is said and done," your mentor removed his hand, went in front of you and tilted his head back at you. "let's go."

"where? i thought we were done," you muttered quietly, still being shaken up by the whole situation.

"to my house," he casually declared, continuing with his statement, "or do you want to climb up the hill up to college dorms every day?"

a/n: if you made it this far, i’d like to thank everyone who is enjoying this so far, i never thought my work would actually reach someone. so thank you so much for reading, stay safe and have a great rest of your day!

#nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #x reader #kento nanami #jjk nanami #nanami kento #Spotify

[akkaweo-akkaweo]

Treatment

Jeong Jinsol/Jinsoul x M!reader

Tags: light edging, sorta JOI?, facial

WC: 1.3k

A/N: this photoset legitimately made me feel things so allow me to take you on that same journey. enjoy the different structure of this work.

—————

After a tiring day of work — presentations, meetings, the usual — you plop yourself on the bed, with barely enough energy to take your clothes off. You're staring at the ceiling for maybe two, three minutes before you hear the front door beep open and the unmistakable clacking of heels on tile rings around the dead silent studio.

"Hey baby," Jinsol said softly. "Busy day?"

You grunt in acknowledgement. Jinsol may have looked stunning today, as she always did, but you were way too spent to show it more meaningfully. She'd understand.

"Are you feeling alright? You look sick," she said, worry in her voice.

"I'm fine, babe. You should rest too. I'll make space on the bed for–"

"Hmm, this won't do. I've seen this before. You seem to have a buildup of sorts," she cut you off.

"What are you talking about, Jinsol?"

The whole while you've been staring up at the ceiling, you fail to notice Jinsol kneeling in front of your legs dangling by the edge of the bed. The only way you noticed was because of the confusion from her last statement.

"See? So much negative energy stuck in your head, you can't even see or hear properly. Luckily," she says as she starts unbuckling your belt, "I think I know just the solution."

You don't exactly have an explanation for it, but the more and more Jinsol undid your pants, you could feel yourself getting hard already. A quick draw of your boxers revealed your member, sprung up and hard.

"Ah, just as I thought. It's all stuck in here," she said, with a light tap to your shaft.

"Aigo, Jinsol, I said I'm too tired for this...," you say, trying to hide your shame of getting aroused so quickly.

Jinsol raises an eyebrow at you, then shrugs. "Okay. If you say so." She gets up and starts walking away from the bed, except you notice the way she's walking: an extra swing of her wide hips, slow enough to make you do nothing but stare, still fully erect.

She turns back, looking at you with a tempting gaze.

"You sure you're so tired? Doesn't seem like it to me," she teased

"Okay, fine, Jinsol. I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm so–"

"No, it's okay. I understand," she replied, a tinge of singsong-y taunting audible in her tone. "You're not asking for it, so perhaps I'll leave you to it."

Again, unprompted, the taunting made you twitch in arousal.

Your vision tunnels, honing in on Jinsol's face: her porcelain skin, the shape of her eyes, her luscious lips — all the perfect seductive mix. You're pretty sure you've been staring at her way too long to be subtle, because Jinsol doubles down on her charade, tilting more of her shoulder away from you, hiding her body's curves around her tight dress, yet also showing the almost bare skin on her back.

"You sure you don't want this?," she teased, no subtlety on her end either.

That was enough to set you off. With a newfound energy, you jump off the bed, walking briskly to her, your surprisingly still hard dick swinging around — at this point, you didn't care. You just wanted Jinsol, and to humor her so-called treatment for your situation.

"You're such a goddamn tease, Jinsol," you growl under your breath as you wrap your arms around her waist. You pelt her neck and shoulders with deep, sensual kisses, made much easier with how little cloth obstructs your mouth. She lets out a soft hum as you continue, and as both your hands stray to her core and her chest respectively, you can feel — or rather, don't feel — any undergarments under her dress, evidenced by the tiny bumps forming on her chest and the warmth between her legs.

"Are you sure it's me who needs this treatment?," you taunt.

"Oh, yes, it's all for you, baby," she growls. "This is part of it."

She turns around and kneels once again before you, her face right in front of your dick, her breath close enough to send shivers down your spine.

"How are you so good at–"

"Tsk, just shut up and let me work," she barked. "You talk too much. All the cum built up in here," she continued, grabbing your balls, "is making you a lot dumber than usual."

You're ready to open your mouth in protest, but you stop yourself. She's right — the last time you actually had time to fuck your girlfriend was probably a month ago, on your monthsary. She definitely had a point, because she probably wanted this just as much as you needed it. Besides, how could you say anything when Jinsol's sucking was enough to make you speechless?

She knew exactly how to work you: she would take in all of your head, then midway to your girth, then all the way to the base, several times until your moans of ecstasy got loud enough. Then she'd take you out of her mouth and keep you aroused, kissing your length and licking your slit. Her hands weren't idle either: they moved between massaging your balls and stroking just the base of your cock. And in just a few minutes, you could feel the cum build up at your base.

"Fuck, Jinsol, you're gonna make me–"

She leaves you hanging completely, causing a sharp pain as you feel your orgasm denied.

"Sorry baby, for this to work, you gotta do it yourself," she pouted. "So will you do it for me? Please, baby?," she added, with a little whine in her voice. Fuck, she's irresistible.

You start to stroke yourself, and you see Jinsol adjust herself to rub her clit and squeeze her tits. "Yes baby," she moaned, "I love watching you stroke your cock for me. I love seeing it twitch and squirm for me. Is it all mine, baby?"

"Fuck... yes it is Jinsol... Tell me how much you want it," you beg, yearning to get off from her sensual squeals.

"I want it inside me baby... I want you to ram it inside me, all the way in. And I want your cum, all over my face," she begs. She tilts her head up, to show all of her face before your eyes.

Jinsol stared at you with hungry eyes, screaming for your release just as much as her own. Her mouth was slightly agape, ready to open it wide for your seed. And just the way she presented herself to you — should you miss her mouth, you'd still paint her face, and she'd enjoy it all the same.

"I want your cum, baby. I want it all over me. Please give it to me," she begged on.

You felt the cum welling inside your shaft start to rush forward; you were ready for release.

"I'm gonna cum, Jinsol!"

She opened her mouth wide and stuck out her tongue; just the view of her being in full display, ready for you, was enough to send you over. You spurt all over her face, a lot more than you anticipated, and aimed the last few strings directly onto her tongue. She closed her mouth and gave a deep gulp; as she did, she closed her eyes, satisfied and satiated. Whatever strings she could scoop up with her fingers, she did and licked it all up.

"Told you you had a backup," she said, still licking clean the tips of her fingers.

Honestly, you thought you'd be tired by then. But watching the hottest woman alive love the taste of you was a turn-on even you couldn't switch off.

"Oh, you're still hard?," she cooed. "Guess there's still a lot more in there."

"Ready for round two?"

—————

#girl group smut #kpop smut #male reader #loona smut #jinsoul smut

[glassartpeasants]

Run Rabbit Run .08

Yandere!Eustass Kid x F!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of death, blood, reader having a crisis, pregnancy, angst, probably slight cringe cause i've been sleep deprived and think everything good idea then, and most likely other shit i can't think of atm

A/N: apparently my body can't decide whether to write Kid or Kidd cause i wrote Kidd half way through this after spelling it 'Kid' in the last two fic's. So please bare with my stupidity

@rebeccawinters @iggy5055 @dairygrrl @childconnoisseur @menifire1092 @nerdgeekandeverysweet-blog @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth

pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6 pt.7 pt.8 pt.9 pt.10

~~~

Even though you’ve been counting down the months to finally reach Sabaody, a part of you yearned for just a few more weeks with G-5. Now, with only three more days till you dock at the archipelago, the excitement is palpable. Time seemed to have a mind of its own, neither hastening nor slowing. They say time flies when you're having fun, and indeed it did. Four months dwindled to three, then two, and before you knew it, you were down to mere days.

You couldn’t wait to see everyone, to reveal the person you’ve become during the two-year separation. The anticipation to demonstrate your newfound devil fruit powers and everything Smoker and G-5 have instilled in you. To prove that you've earned the title of a Straw Hat.  That even in the face of pregnancy, you stand strong, capable of protecting yourself and your friends. You’ve toiled day and night to hone your abilities and devil fruit powers, all while nurturing the life growing within you.

Tashigi helped you in buying things that’d make your life a bit easier. Pregnancy pillows, maternity clothes, vitamins to keep yourself healthy, and everything in between. She even convinced you to write a journal for every day of your pregnancy. It did help a lot more than you thought it would. You wrote what you wouldn’t tell anyone else and how you truly felt about your situation that day. Some good and some bad.

A wave of emotions would often overwhelm you when something triggered memories of your time with Kidd. The echo of people calling your name, the rumble of thunder, all reminiscent of your time spent in the shadows. While you knew you’d never be the same person you were before Kidd, you have strived to heal from all the things that have transpired.

It wasn’t working very well, though.

Looking at any reflective surface has your heart shattering when your eyes land on the visible scars on your body. Trying to picture yourself without the scars was impossible as you struggled not to imagine Kidd in the image as well. It was almost easier to pretend you were born with your scars rather than think about the one that gave them to you. Even in everyday life, he'd pop into your head when you weren’t thinking about him. Closing your eyes, you still see his amber eyes staring right back at you.

Being alone with your thoughts always makes things difficult. If it were too quiet, you’d hear his voice whispering in your ear. Feeling his fingers touching your skin when you wore short-sleeved shirts was also common. Times when you were so close to slumber, you’d start to smell his presence. The only thing that seems to calm you down now is a tune your mother used to sing to you.

It had been sealed away in your memories for years, and now you managed to remember the words and tune after having a dream about her singing it to you. You watched her rock yourself as she sang the little song before tucking you in. Her face was a blur, but you could still hear her. At least you could still remember her voice. Yet when she stopped singing, you immediately woke up.

Since then, you’ve been subconsciously humming it when working around the ship. You remember getting embarrassed when Tashigi asked you what you were singing. When you told her that it was something your mother sang to you when you were a baby, she got stars in her eyes.

“You should sing to them! I heard it’s extremely beneficial to the baby!” You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Your more invested in this pregnancy than I am, and I'm the one carrying the baby.”

“I heard it’s great for bonding and-” She stopped herself before she could finish. You knew what she was trying to say and that there was no ill will behind it.

“It’s okay. I know you meant well. Maybe if the situation were different, I’d be more excited. But I don’t want to get too close to them since I’m putting them up for adoption.”

“I’m sorry. I forgot about that. I guess I just got excited for something other than listening to men yelling and fighting.”

“No, I promise it’s okay! Things happen. You meant well, and that’s all that matters to me.”

Leaning against the railing, you look out at the setting sun. The beautiful colors you memorize as you imagine sailing off with the Straw Hats. Happy laughter as you’d hear them tell their stories of their adventures from the two years you’ve been separated. You couldn’t wait to hear Luffy’s infectious laughter or see Robin's calming smile. Only three more days until you make it to Sabaody then-...

…What then?

You’d still be pregnant, on the run, and scared that any second Kidd’s going to show up and whisk you away. Even after you put up the baby for adoption, your body would still look pregnant for a while before going back to normal. Your body would wonder where the baby had gone and when it’d come back. How were you supposed to live life normally after this? Knowing that you have a baby out there that you’ll never get to see grow up. Always worry if they're safe and scared that Kidd might find them and use them as leverage to make you come back.

But at the same time, you couldn’t take them with you. The sea is no place to raise a child, let alone a baby. They could fall overboard, get kidnapped by Marines or rival pirate groups, hell, they could get ill at sea, and you wouldn’t have the medicine to make them better!

Anyway, you looked at it, it felt like nothing was the right choice. The negatives outweighed the positives in your head. It’s possible that everything you’ve experienced has made you an internal pessimist. That, or maybe you were just thinking logically. Either or, it still sucked.

“What are you thinking about?” Tashigi’s voice pulled you from your negative thoughts as she stood beside you.

“Everything and nothing at all. Three days, and then we’ll be enemies. Feels weird knowing that.”

“Yeah. It’s gonna be weird not having you around. I’m gonna be stuck as the only girl once again.” You laugh a bit at her admission.

“If only we’d be able to call one another. But it’s too much of a risk in case any higher-ups were to find out.” Both of you sigh before turning to each other.

“Why do you have to be a pirate?”

“Why do you have to be a Marine?” The two of you laugh as you see the stars start to appear in the night sky.

“The stars are pretty, huh? Maybe we can find constellations if we look hard enough.” You can see Tashigi thinking out of the corner of your eye before her head perks up.

“What if we take pictures? Like a group picture? We’d be able to remember each other even if we can’t talk.”

“You're right! We can do it tomorrow morning! I heard it’s supposed to be sunny and clear!”

“Perfect! We can go around telling the other Marines about it, and they’ll all agree. Vice Admiral Smoker, we might have to convince or drag.”

“I think it’ll be worth the extra chores.”

~~~

As you lay in your bed once more, you look out over the multiple sleeping marines. In a few days' time, you’ll never see them again. If you do, then you’d have to fight them. Once you get back to the Straw Hats, you’ll undoubtedly have a bounty from the government. Then you’ll genuinely be ‘enemies,’ but the thought of hurting any of them made you want to cry. How could you hurt those who took you in, no matter who you were? They risked getting in trouble and put themselves in danger just for you.

Maybe if your forced to fight them, you could just run away? Usopp does it a lot, so why couldn’t you?

You move slightly to get more comfy, only to hear a ‘thud’ come from the side of your bed. Gently moving to the best of your pregnant abilities, you manage to see a particular journal that you haven’t read since the first week you met the G-5.

Heat’s journal.

Biting your lip, you mentally fight to figure out whether you should read it or not. After taking months to try and process Heat’s internal thoughts and the truth about your home, perhaps you were ready to read the rest of it.

Scooting closer to the edge of the bed, you manage to grab the book by the tips of your fingers. You bring it up just enough for your other hand to hold it. A slight pain rummages through your body as you try to bring it up. Thankfully, you manage to pull it up just enough to grab it with your other hand. Snuggling into the bed more, you use the moon as a light source to read the book.

Something happened. I don’t know what it was exactly, but whatever it was, put (Y/N) in the hospital on the island we’re currently docked at. No one but Killer and Kidd himself were allowed to see her. Doctors must have been in and out of that room when (Y/N) first entered.

I can’t see (Y/N) trying to kill herself. Not with the small determination I can still see in her eyes. It had to be something involving Kidd. If Kidd can put a hot metal branding on her, then I don’t think he’d be above doing something to land her in the hospital.

I’ve talked to Wire about his thoughts on what could have happened. He told me that while he saw nothing, he heard multiple thuds and yelling coming from beneath the deck. Immediately upon hearing that, a sour taste filled my mouth. I have to go down and see for myself the room Kidd has been keeping (Y/N) in. There has to be something down there that could tell me something.

Of course, Kidd didn’t want his crew to know he almost killed you. Typical. What did Heat say when he saw you come back from the hospital? When what was the starting time when you forgot your memories. Gently skimming through the pages, you found the entry you were looking for.

I don’t think my eyes have ever widened as much as they did when I saw Kidd and (Y/N) holding hands. There was a bright smile on (Y/N)’s face when she finally came aboard the deck. Her legs are wobbly, and it looks like she’s learning how to walk again. She had bandages covering her head. Behind her and Kid was a doctor along with Killer.

Obviously, somethings not right. (Y/N) or Kidd must have hit her head so hard that a real doctor is needed. While I know it’s a very cliche scenario, I think that she must have hit her head so hard that her memory fogged. And if that’s so, what lies had Kidd told her already? Maybe if I'm able to get the doctor alone, I can get some information.

So Heat saw you the day you returned to the Victoria Punk after the incident? You were shocked that Kidd didn’t bring you back to the ship during the night. But thankfully, he was too stupid, and it allowed Heat to see the first part of the aftermath in real-time.

You don’t remember the first week or two when you got back to the Victoria. Not the doctors or leaving the hospital. It was probably for the best, though. You don’t need any more trauma than you already have.

“What were his thoughts during those five months?” Looking back at the marines to ensure they were sleeping, you flip through the pages again.

Caught (Y/N) staring out to sea earlier before the night entirely took over. It’s been a while since I’ve talked to her, honestly. I felt like I was going insane trying to figure out how or if I should help her now. She looks so happy now, but at the same time, her happiness is based on lies and blood.

Why did this have to happen? What sins did (Y/N) do in a past life that made this her reality? One minute, she was living her life, then the next, she’s stuck in a storage room on a pirate ship. I try not to think how alone she must have felt before this incident. Always being stuck in the dark and only seeing the same people over and over again. Me talking to her can only do so much. It won’t bring back her parents or friends. Nor will it bring back her home.

It still eats me knowing that I’m the reason this woman has no one left. No friends or family. Well, there’s those Straw Hats she’s told me about.

I remember them from Sabaody. Their captain was a strange one, but it did seem like he cared for his crew. If he’s willing to risk his life by storming Impel Down and Navy headquarters just to save his brother, then I think if there is any place or pirate crew for her to be in, it’d be the Straw Hats.

Maybe if I mention Saboady, it’ll spark something and clear the fog that’s invaded her mind.

"If only you knew Heat. It was the thing that made me realize somethings not right.” For a Kidd Pirate, he truly was a fallen angel in disguise. While you’ll never forgive him for what he did to your home, he proved that almost everyone deserves a second chance.

Holy shit. I can hear my heart beating in my ears. I haven’t run as quickly and quietly as I could in forever. Not to mention the underlying threat of getting caught giving (Y/N) a devil fruit.

Finding the damn thing was entirely on accident but a pain in the ass to bring on the ship without anyone noticing. Even stealing the fruit was a feat in itself. I don’t know how that fisherman found it or what he was planning on doing with it, but in the end, it’s going to a better cause. 

I managed to have (Y/N) eat it by luring her outside the dining hall earlier. When I watched her eat it all, it made a slight ease wash over me. At least now, she’d have a bit more of a fighting chance against Kidd if he did anything.

I feel bad that I couldn’t tell her everything right then and there, but I was already pushing it by being so close to everyone, especially with Killer being somewhere on deck. I didn’t want to cause a scene and have Kidd freak out or anything. The longer he’s in the dark, the safer it is for (Y/N) and myself.

Honestly, I thought Killer would have knocked some sense into Kidd when he found out about (Y/N). I was obviously very wrong. 

“If anything, he was just as insane as Kidd. Fueling his crazed thoughts and obsession. I still remember that dumb conversation I heard between him and Kidd about boarding up the storage room.” It pissed you off more that if it weren’t for Killer’s mask, you probably would have put two and two together quicker. Facial expressions are everything. 

I caught (Y/N) staring at the sky again. Thankfully, Killer and Wire were on the opposite side of the ship, so I was finally able to talk to (Y/N) alone. She didn’t know what I made her eat initially, which shocked me. Maybe she hadn’t done anything to trigger it yet.

We both found out pretty quickly what her devil fruit power was, though.

I was trying to tell her that everything she knew about Kidd was a lie. That her life was a lie. I wanted to be more collected and calm about it, but how do you carefully say something like that?  It was hard seeing her eyes flash all her emotions, but it soon turned to pain when a harsh shock hit my hands. It felt like a burning hot pole went straight through my hands. 

It hurt like a bitch, but the pain subsided when I saw her looking at her hands. When I also looked at them, I saw electricity slither across her hands. I watched her put her hands together and was speechless when a ball of pure electricity formed. She started panicking when the ball was getting too big for her to control and starting to hurt her. I told her to throw it out to sea, and when she did, I felt like I was watching the moon shrink. It was so bright and slightly calming. The farther it went, the more at ease I felt. (Y/N) had a chance. She had a chance to defend herself and run away.

And I’ll be there to make sure she’s safe.

Tears fall profusely down your face, reading the last line. How can the world be so cruel? All he wanted to do was help, and yet he lost his life.

You go to read the next page only to see it’s blank. Feeling your throat dry, you start skimming through the rest of the pages, hoping to see more writing, yet there is nothing. It felt like your heart had been ripped directly from your chest. That was the last thing Heat has ever written, and it just had to be the most heartbreaking thing to read.

Curling up as best you can, considering your belly, you hold Heat’s journal close to your chest. You try your best not to sob as you don’t want to wake up the rest of the Marines sleeping next to you. Between sniffles and the slight shaking as you try to control your breathing, you whisper to yourself in hopes that wherever Heat is, he’ll hear you.

“Thank you.”

~~~

Another island was reduced to ashes after falling victim to Eustass Kidd’s wraith. A once lush and thriving island is now in flames and crumbling as the ruthless pirate searched tirelessly for a certain someone last seen there.

“God fucking damnit! When I get my hands on whatever Marines are holding her, I’m going to kill every single one of them! They’ll wish they never got involved when I break each of their bones!” Kidd’s voice boomed across the town as his amber eyes scanned everywhere.

Where are you?! Why aren’t you here?!

“Kid.” Killer’s voice breaks through the brute's rage, making him turn his head.

“What Killer?!”

“We’ve searched everywhere, and there's no sign of her. It’s not like we can ask anyone either since everyone has evacuated before we arrived.”

Ever since the incident on Halyard Island, as soon as your location was revealed in the paper, people would evacuate their homes to try to save their families and avoid the unstable tornado of destruction that was Eustass Kidd. 

Some people stayed because it’d been their home since birth, and they’d rather die than leave it defenseless. There have been rebellions to try to stop Kidd, but they were always snuffed out the moment Kidd saw them. The same could be said for any Marines that were sent to stop him. Getting sent on a mission to any island that you had been spotted at was a death wish. Sometimes, the Marines were too late, and Kidd had already destroyed the island. But when Kidd would see them, he wouldn’t let any Marines leave until he talked to each and every single one of them. And since none of them had you, none of them would leave the island alive.

Your name had become a jinx to any Marine that spoke it. Speaking your name would always have the Marine that spoke it sent out on the next mission to stop Kid from destroying yet another island just to find you. And since none of them had you, they’d never come back alive to say what they’ve experienced.

After being the ‘cause’ of death for so many Marines, some rookies have given you the nickname ‘Devil’s Darling.’ It was a joke at first, but as the death toll rose and how Kidd’s name got more infamous, more and more people adopted it. And with a nickname like that, more people have come to hate you.

While you haven’t done anything, the fact is that if it weren’t for you escaping, no one would have gotten hurt. If only you had bit the bullet, no one would have lost their lives. Many victims of Kidd’s rage blame you for it. Anger and fear take over the hearts of many, and to the civilians of the New World, you’ve become as feared and hated as the man hunting you down.

The government had become more conflicted on where to stand with you. While you were technically innocent, the people have been nagging them to put an official bounty on your head. If they did, you’d only be wanted alive. The power they could hold if they managed to capture you. You could be the key to finally catching and imprisoning Eustass Kidd.

And Kidd knew all of this.

He knew the hatred the people had started to hold for you. How they’d give you to him if they managed to recognize and grab you before you left the island. In a way, he had the whole New World in his hand. Their hatred and fear was and will be the town’s own undoing.

The only people stopping him were fucking journalists who don’t say or do a thing when they see you. They are so desperate for a story and to lead him on that they don’t care about how they’ve helped in the destruction.

“Of course, she isn’t here. Fucking hate those journalists and Marines.” Kidd kicked a smoldering piece of wood in anger. Ashes fly to the sky as it did nothing to soothe his rage.

They don’t understand that he needs you. He dreams of you every night. Dreams of you laying next to him and kissing his face. Some where you were holding his child, soothing them to sleep. Humming a small tune before noticing him and smiling. You’d say something to him, but he could never remember what it was when he woke up.

And while there were dreams, nightmares followed suit. Nightmares of you falling into the ocean and sinking to the bottom with your hand outstretched for Kidd to grab and save you. Or the times when you’d be running from Marines to him only for you to get shot as soon as he had you in your arms. The nightmares plagued him much more than he dreamt of you. He’s always had nightmares when you weren’t lying next to him. Ever since the first night you’ve slept with him in his bed, he’s never been able to sleep alone without waking up sometimes during the night. The warmth your body gave him while you slept, go thim addicted.

Those first few months you left and joined those damn Straw Hats, the same nightmare happened every night. It replayed the scene of you sailing away from him over and over again. No matter what, those months without you behind closed doors were pure hell for Kidd. You were just gone from his life after being by his side for a year and a half. He’d never get to kiss you or hold you close again.

But just as Killer tried to get Kidd over you, he saw you.

He was fighting a pacifista next to that dweeb Trafalgar Law when he turned his head, and there you were. You were running as fast as you could, and there he saw you. What you were running from, he didn’t know, but what he did know was that you were alone. No Straw Hats or Marines to take you away now. You were his for the taking once more, and this time, he’d make sure you knew it-

“Earth to Kidd!” Blinking a few times, Kidd’s pulled from his memories by Killer snapping his fingers in his face.

“I was thinking! What is it?”

“Haven’t you noticed a pattern? How each island she’s at, she gets closer and closer to the Navy Headquarters?” A pit filled Kidd’s stomach hearing Killer’s words.

“What are you saying, Killer? Spill it!”

“What if their taking her to the safety of Navy Headquarters? Or worse, Impel Down?” Kidd grits his teeth at the thought. No way in hell was he gonna let those fuckers take you.

“Any Marine ship we see, attack. Don’t care if they're not in our course. No Marine ship will get past the Victoria. Search every part of the Marine ship, and if she isn’t there, sink the ship to the bottom of the sea.”

“And the Marines on it?”

“Kill them all.”

~~~

“You wanted to see me, Vice Admiral? If it’s about the pictures we did yesterday, I have some here if you want to choose one.-”

“Sit. We need to talk.” Your heart stopped for a second, but you managed to snap back and sit on the chair in front of his desk. The way he sat in his chair behind the desk made you bite the inside of your cheek. When Tashigi told you that he wanted to see you, you were nervous. She said that while she didn’t know why he wanted to, you had no need to be scared.

Obviously, she was wrong.

“O-Oh? What about?” You can feel your palms sweat as the room seems to heat up.

“The government has finally put up a bounty for you.” Hearing those words come from Smoker's mouth made time stop as thousands of scenarios played through your head. Would he turn you in?

“But I haven’t done anything! Why do I have a bounty?!”

“You haven’t done anything. But Kidd has.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“He’s been destroying islands, villages, and Marine ships nonstop. Anything in his path has become a victim of his rage. According to headquarters, we’ve lost a lot of good men to him. Rookies, Vice Admirals, and Admirals even have been killed. His bounty has tripled in the last six months. Wouldn’t shock me if it raises the next time the new bounty posters come up.” You were speechless. How many people have been hurt or killed because of you? So many deaths for simply living. This has to be a nightmare.

“I don’t understand. Why do I have a bounty for things he’s done? I’m not out here hurting people!” Smoker sighed before running a hand through his hair.

“They want to use you to lure Kidd so they can capture him. That and many people of the New World are treating you as much of a threat as kid himself is.”

“I’ve never hurt anyone! I hate Kidd as much as they do, so why do they hate me?...”

“Fear. Kidd’s insanity has caused fear to cover the entire New World. Seeing your name and last known location in the paper is a death wish for the island you were last seen at. I don’t know how these damn journalists keep spotting you no matter what disguise we put you in.”

“It’s like they’re actively looking for me. Why are they so determined to find me? People have been hurt, yet they don’t care!” Guilt starts to eat at you as the thought of countless people getting hurt because of your problems eats at your heart.

“First Heat…now this? Why is this happening to me? What have I done to deserve this?” You whisper to yourself as you lay your hands on your thighs before gripping your pants tightly. Tears start to whelm in your eyes as you bite your lip. The images of people's faces you’ve never seen before start to pop up in your mind as if to make you suffer more. The survivor's guilt already consumed you after Heat’s death, but now, with having so much more ‘blood’ on your hands, the pain was unbearable.

“Heat? Where have I heard that name before?”

“He was a crewmate on Kidd’s ship. He’s…no longer with us.”

“A Marine kill him? I don’t think I’ve heard of any Kidd Pirates getting sent to Impel Down.”

“No. Kidd did.” Even though you spoke between sobs, SMoker still managed to catch your words. He was stunned to hear such a thing. Killing his own crew? If he can do that without remorse, what else is he willing to do?

“He helped me escape the first time I was stuck with Kidd. He undid the chain that was connected to a collar Kidd had me wear and told me to run. When he saw that I had gotten captured again, he tried to help me again, but…”

“But?”

You ran as fast as you could around teh deck to try and find Heat and Kidd. In the dark, the whole boat felt like a maze. Each passing second was an eternity. How can you find them in time?

“Your fucking stupid to think I wouldn’t notice how you're trying to play hero! At first, I gave you the benefit of the doubt when you let her go the first time. But now, when everything’s good, you're trying to ruin it!” Kidd’s voice rang in your left ear, making you stop in your tracks.

“What are you talking about Kidd? Are you drunk or something?”

“Don’t play dumb! You know damn well what I’m talking about! Your telling (Y/N) shit she doesn’t need to remember! Telling her things that’ll ruin what I’ve worked so hard for! She’s happy, and you want her to be sad?!”

“That’s not happiness, Kidd! Her ‘happiness’ is based on lies! I know I’m not the greatest person. I have skeletons in my closet, but what you're doing is insane!” Hearing Heat bite back makes you dash towards the two voices.

Just then, a few loud thumps accompanied by a cough echoed across the deck. A bang was soon heard right after, and it only made you run faster. When you finally made it to the source, your horrified to see Kidd with his back facing you and a bloody, jagged knife in his hand. In front of him, you see Heat on the deck with his back leaning against the railing. Red starts to seep through his clothes, as you can hear his breathing become erratic. You watched him cough harshly and see droplets of blood shooting out from his mouth.

“I don’t remember asking for your input, Heat. I won’t let you ruin this for me. If only you had minded your business, then none of this would have to happen.” Heat gives Kidd a strong glare before laughing at him. His teeth covered in blood as he smiled at Kidd.

“She’ll find out. It may not be by me, but your house of cards is crumbling, Kidd. She’s gonna find out whether you like it or not.” You can hear Kidd crack his neck at Heat’s words.

“Not to mention, she and the rest of the crew are gonna wonder what’s happened to me. How are you gonna explain that?”

“I can just say you fell overboard. Since your a devil fruit user, you’ll sink to the bottom. The crew will believe it, and so will (Y/N).”

“Doubt it. She’s not stupid, Kidd. She’s gonna remember everything that’s happened. Her home, friends, family, and everything you’ve done to her, she’s gonna remember. And when she does, I’ll be laughing in hell.” You watch Kidd charge at Heat with the knife clutched tightly in his hand.

“No!” Running from your hiding spot, you jump in front of Heat. Despite the fear that coursed through you, you spread your arms out to a T so you can protect him from your knife-wielding lover. Your arrival brought silence among the three of you.

“(Y/N)...” Glancing back to Heat, you see the shock in his eyes. Your heart bleeds as Heats breath becomes more ragged with each second that passes. 

“(Y/N)! What are you doing?! You need to get away from him! He’s working for the Marines! He’s a traitor!” Biting your lip between your teeth, you try not to cry as your lover lies directly in your face so casually. 

A strong, familiar tingling feeling circulated through your arms and legs as you stood in front of Heat. Buzzing rings in your ears as the feeling grows stronger as you anticipate Kidd’s next move.

“Move (Y/N). I’m trying to protect you! He’s going to hurt you, it’s not safe next to him.” Looking into Kidd’s eyes, you stand yoru ground and still stand in his path. You can feel your heart race as he reaches out to you. The feeling of his fingertips from his real arm just barely touching your wrist before a loud ZAP could be heard echoing across the Victoria Punk.

“Son of a bitch!” Kid recoils his hand back and tries brushing it against his red feathered coat. The buzzing of the zap still ringing in your ears as you quickly turn your attention to Heat. You're quick to start inspecting him for more wounds but can only see one. A stab wound dangerously close to the heart but at a perfect position for it to be in the lungs. While Kidd missed the heart, he managed to puncture a lung which could be just as fatal. It also explains the coughing up of blood.

“Heat! Hang on! Everything will be okay! Just give me a second!-”

“Where did you get devil fruit powers?...” You stutter as you try to figure out a lie to say. Yet, you watch Heat give Kidd a bloody smirk. From that, it didn’t take long for Kidd to put two and two together.

“You gave her devil fruit powers?! I’m going to fucking kill you, you bastard!” Your heart almost stops completely as you see Kidd stomping towards the two of you. The way his face looked so sinister made it feel like you were living another nightmare.

Quick to jump to your feet again, you place yourself between Heat and Kidd. The buzzing continued, and you watched as electricity slithers around your arms and legs, helping you give off a threatening aura.

“Don’t you dare hurt him, Kidd!” Despite the electricity covering you, Kidd still reaches out. Just as you watch him reach for your arm, he changes direction and grabs your hair. With a harsh tug, Kidd throws you behind him. Your body hits against the hard wooden deck with a ‘thunk.’

You can feel the air being knocked out of your lungs as tears prickle your eyes. As you struggle to get over the pounding in your head and the ache in your body, you hear Heat cough harshly again. When you open your eyes to look at the two men, your eyes widen in horror as you watch Kidd hold Heat up by the throat. Lifting him to his feet, you see Heat struggle to get Kidd’s metal hand off his throat. 

“Enjoy the bottom of the sea Heat! Say hi to the sea kings that’ll feast on your corpse, will ya?” Jumping to your feet despite still being dizzy, you dash towards Kidd and Heat. But just as you took three steps in, you watched as Kidd threw Heat against the railing, making him tumble over it and fall off the boat. 

Running to the railing and praying that he’s simply hanging on, your hopes were crushed as soon as you heard the heartbreaking sound of water splashing. Leaning over the edge to see if you could throw him a rope, you only had time to see bubbles rising to the water's surface before Kidd grabbed you by the hair and began to drag you away.

“Kidd found out about it. My devil fruit powers wouldn’t be a thing if it weren’t for Heat. If it wasn’t for him, who knows how long I would have been stuck with Kidd and his web of lies.”

“How long has it been since his death?” While he could see that this was obviously a sensitive topic for you, perhaps if you spoke about it, it might loosen whatever burden his death has caused.

“A week had passed after his death when you guys found me. So, as long as I’ve been here plus a week.” Letting out a hum, Smoker continued to listen.

“It’s all my fault…If only I had been more careful then maybe he’d still be here. He’d still be alive instead of at the bottom of the sea.”

“I watched Kidd kill him. I saw Kidd kill the only friend I had and there was nothing I could do about it!”

‘That explains a lot. There’s a lot more layers of trauma she hasn’t told me or Tashigi about. If there's something that traumatic she’s keeping to herself, what else could be going on inside that she’s not talking about?’

“There are times when I feel like he’s haunting me. I see him sometimes in my nightmares. Or times when I’m leaning against the railing and go to look down at the sea only to see Heat standing beside me. But when I go to check if he’s really there, it’s always an empty space. I’ve caught glimpses of him staring at me through the crowd. People walk back and forth and I see him staring at me. But then somebody walks in front of him, and then he’s gone!” Smoker watches as your body shakes and tears begin pouring down your face. You grip your uniform pants even harder as you try to stabilize yourself as you begin to hyperventilate.

“Every time I see him, I don’t see the Heat I know. I see him as a corpse. No matter what he’s always just staring at me with lifeless eyes. It always looks like he’s…”

“At the bottom of the sea?”

“Yeah. Down there.” A minute os silence passes before SMoker speaks.

“You shouldn’t feel guilty for his death. From how much you’ve told me, it sounds like he knew the risks that came with trying to set you free. That he’d be putting his own life in danger to help yours. Do you think he’d want you to feel guilty for a sacrifice he was willing to make?”

“No.”

“Then don’t blame yourself for something that someone did of their own free will.”

“Yes, Vice Admiral.” While Smoker knew a single sentence wouldn’t fix all the trauma Heat’s death had obviously caused, he supposed it was better to get it off your chest. With Heat’s death, along with the people Kidd’s hurt in your name lingering in your mind, he can’t imagine the toll it’s taken on you.

~~~

Today’s the day. According to Tashigi, you guys should be at Sabaody before 3 pm. After months of training and pregnancy, along with your time with Kidd, you’ll finally be able to return to the Straw Hats.

It feels unreal. Almost as if it’s a dream. Yet, the dangers of Sabaody didn’t slip your mind. Bounty hunters, potential civilians willing to hunt you down, and the navy waiting to use you as bait. All odds were against you.

You did know the sunny was docked at tree 41, so maybe you could have G-5 bring you close but not too close to the sunny? The closer you are to it, the safer it’ll be for you. Well, you and the baby.

Not a second goes by where it’s not on your mind. Any time you move, you have to be cautious you don’t hit your tummy on anything. Eating foods became a test as foods you used to love, you now despise. Now, you're studying foods that are healthy for the baby and what’s not. Anything an over-paranoid pregnant woman does, you did. Even though you're gonna give up the baby for adoption when the time comes, you are gonna make sure the baby is healthy. 

There was a nagging feeling that ate at you whenever you were alone. Sometimes, you could feel the baby kick whenever you tapped your belly purposefully or on accident. It was as if they were responding to you. If they could feel the vibrations from a simple tap, could they also hear you talk about not wanting them? Even if six months old, what if? You knew it was impossible for them to understand you, but the nagging feeling never went away. 

Maybe when you reunite with the Straw Hats, that nagging feeling will fade away.

~~~

Another art thing. not really proud of it but it is what it is

#one piece x reader #eustass kid x reader #eustass captain kid x reader

[andromeda-nova-writing]

Plastic Off The Sofa

Fem!Reader

Summary: Rest when one is injured it is important to take as to not strain an injury any further. It is equally important to take care of those who have been injured and check in on them to make sure they are okay.

Words: 2,982

AN: This fic is inspired by the song of the same name. I highly recommend you go give it a listen if you. haven't heard it yet. It's a song that discusses a deep love where you are willing to put everything on the table and accept each other's flaws. It very much fits how I see these two

It was rare that Y/N took a sick day. Most times when she did it would land on days she was to work on the surface, which made today a double rare. She was sitting on the sofa in her apartment taking a sick day forcing herself to listen to her own advice and rest. She wasn't ill. Not even seasonal allergies were causing a sniffle. Y/N had spent the day before teaching her younger cousins different dancing techniques. It was a fairly normal occurrence for her. But with an unlucky fall and the pain she felt from her ankle, there was no way she'd be able to easily move in the Fortress. Hell, there wouldn't even be an easy way of getting to the Fortress.

So all she could do was sit on her sofa and rest her ankle. At least she had books she could focus on getting caught up on. Most of the day had been spent resting much to her annoyance. Despite getting rest, she felt restless like she needed to move around already. At least by tomorrow morning, she should be able to walk with little interference from her ankle.

Her mother had dropped by around noon to check on her with lunch in tow. Along with the get-well cards her younger cousins had made so fast. It was quite sweet of everyone. It's not like it was a major injury. She had gone through small ones like this every three or four years. There really was no big fuss to be made over it. Yet, the fuss they were making was still touching. Bringing comfort knowing that if it had been worse her family would be there for her.

So she sat there on her sofa too engrossed in her book to notice that it wasn't her mother knocking at her door. “You know where the key is!” She yelled out. It's something her mother never had taken the wrong way. If anything it was something they had become used to yelling at each other every now and then. It was a simple way of just letting the other know that they couldn’t make it to the door quickly.

She flipped a page in her book as her front door opened. Her back was to the door. “I told you I would be fine to make something small for dinner. You do understand I can still take care of myself, mama.” 

“Last I checked I wasn't your mother,” Wriothesley spoke before closing the door to her home.

Y/N's eyes widened as she quickly closed her book placing it on the coffee table before rushing to tighten the robe she had over the short nightgown. “What are you doing here?” She felt severely undressed for company with the cool touch of the silks feeling like flames against her skin now.

“I had some papers I had to drop off for Neuvillette and I figured I could at least come by and check on you.” It was hard not to let his eyes drink in the sight of his girlfriend. She looked relaxed with how dressed down she was. If anything it made him feel a bit overdressed for his visit.

She kept her eyes away from him, avoiding turning around to face him. Her face felt so warm. “I appreciate the visit. I just had a bad fall yesterday. I've just been following the advice I'd give to anyone else today.”

“It's good to know you're okay.” He let out a small laugh watching her struggle to use the dainty robe to cover up more. He took his jacket off and moved closer to the sofa. He placed the jacket on the front of her which she had been trying to cover up. “Better?”

“Thank you. To be fair I didn't expect any company other than my mother. If I knew you were going to stop by I would have gotten dressed. This just feels a bit inappropriate.” She pulled the jacket close using it as a way to hide that she remained in her pajamas all day long.

“You're overthinking again.”

“No, I'm not overthinking. I should go get dressed.” She reasoned as a quick way to fix her predicament.

“Yes, you are. You were in nothing but one of my shirts last week lying in my bed. I think we've crossed that line a long time ago to call what you're wearing inappropriate.” If it had been a year ago before they had gotten together, he would have given her privacy to go change. He probably wouldn't have even shown up at her doorstep. Wriothesley thought the shyness of seeing each other's bodies had already left that first night they had been together in his bed.

“But silks just feel more exposing than one of your shirts. Doesn’t help that I wasn't expecting to see you today.” The last sentence she spoke came out a bit more mumbled than the first.

Wriothesley laughed before leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Let’s agree to disagree on this one.” He tried lightening her mood. “Am I at least allowed to sit next to you while you tell me what happened to your ankle? Or are you just gonna sit here being a shy mess?” 

She frowned at his teasing. It sucked not being able to think of a good comeback. With her luck, she would probably be able to think of one long after the time had passed. “I guess you can sit next to me. And are you sure you want to know what happened to my ankle? It’s not that interesting.” She warned.

“It's the least you could do. The woman who subbed in for you practically interrogated me about how we were doing?”  Wriothesley shook his head at the memory of the morning.

“Was she short with red hair?” She moved over enough, creating room on the sofa for Wriothesley.

He sat down placing his arm on the backrest of the sofa. He tried to be comfortable while also giving her just enough space. Had it gone his way, she would have been curled up in his arms as they talked of their day. “Yeah, she had a nose ring too.”

Y/N leaned her back against him. Maybe she had been overthinking earlier. Sometimes it was easier to accept that fact even if she wasn’t sure of what exactly had caused her overthinking. “Elizabeth means well. She's just always getting her heart broken and just doesn't want it to happen to anyone else.” 

“Could have fooled me. It felt like she was waiting for me to slip up.”

Y/N laughed. “Well, I'll let you know if you passed her test.”

“Now what happened to your ankle?” He asked still wanting to know what had happened even if she found it to be a boring tale.

“I was teaching some of my cousins different techniques for dance. I was demonstrating something from ballet when my aunt's dog thought that would be a wonderful time to jump at me. See nothing that interesting.” She downplayed the simple event.

“You know ballet?” Wriothesley asked wondering how it hadn’t been brought up before.

“Navia wasn’t lying when she told you my mother put me in so many dance classes.”

“I just didn't think you were the ballet type.”

“It's not like I have a reason to talk about dance with you. Even then I don't practice It anymore. Haven't for the past seven years.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s nice, it's just not what I wanted to do in life.” She explained not feeling the need to go any further. It wasn’t important to discuss. There was no need to focus on what she considered a small unimportant aspect of her life.

Wriothesley nodded in understanding. “So what have you been doing while you were resting?”

“Mostly reading. It has been a day of rest. I’ve done nothing of interest.”

“Was The book interesting at least?”

“It's interesting but not cause it's good kind of interesting. One of the ladies at work thought it would be fun to have a monthly book club. I just didn't think that this was her taste.” She thought back on what she had read throughout the day questioning if she should have just stuck to something she would have chosen for herself.

Wriothesley moved his free arm towards the book that lay on her coffee table. He picked up the book looking at the cover. “I'm glad that's the reason you're reading this. And you had me thinking I wasn't doing well enough in the romance department.” He teased as he put the book back. It was a book that had made its way into the Fortress a few years back making it something he had checked out of curiosity. 

“What would possibly make you think that?” She asked, entertaining his nonsense.

“You see, my girlfriend doesn't care to explain to me everything that happened to her ankle.” He began listing. “She suddenly finds it inappropriate for me to see her in silks despite having seen her in far less.”

“Wriothesley, did you come here to check on me or tease me?”

He ignored her second question remaining focused on her first one. “What's worse is that if she's worried about what she's wearing around me, I'll never get to kiss her. It would be horrible to make her uncomfortable.” He was being overly dramatic just to continue teasing her, even if his dramaticness contained an ounce of truth.

“You have issues, Ri.” She rolled her eyes with a smile before sitting up. Her words had no bite remaining playful, even when what she had said was something that held a level of truth. His jacket fell off of her onto the sofa as she moved. “I'm going to go get changed.” Y/N stood up making sure not to put too much weight on her hurt ankle.

“What if I don't want you to?” It was a question that was a tad selfish but it didn't hurt to say what was wanted. It wasn't like his wants were being forced on her. However, her wanting to change did make him question things. So all he could do was push the boundaries they had already broken once before. “How could I judge you for being comfortable in your own home when I'm the one who showed up unexpectedly?”

“Wriothesley…” her voice trailed off.

“I want you to be comfortable around me.” He tried playing it off with a laugh. Maybe he was just thinking too much into things himself. “Maybe I should just let you rest before I talk too much.” His words were softer as he forced out the sentence.

She looked at his face slightly defeated but filled with longing eyes. “I like hearing you talk.” She sat back down next to him. “You know I wouldn't have even told you where I hid the extra key if I didn't feel comfortable around you.”

“Yeah, I know. I just probably need to go back and get proper rest if I'm talking like this.” Wriothesley explained to not worry her. 

“Maybe I let my overthinking get the best of me. Don't let it get the best of you too.” Y/N placed her hand on his cheek. “How am I supposed to listen about getting out my own head if you just start doing what I do? You've done everything to make me feel comfortable around you. You’re even good about asking if I'm comfortable with the smallest things.”

“What else am I supposed to do? I know I'm not the nicest-looking guy around. I think I saw a kid hide behind their mom on the way over.”

“And I'm sure you gave them the sweetest smile.” Y/N placed a hand on his thigh giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know I said that I'm dressed inappropriately but I think it’s just the shock of you being here. I  got used to only having my mom check on me. I do appreciate that you’re here. I wasn’t expecting it even if you’re just here cause you had to drop something off.”

“I would have checked on you regardless. If not me going on my own, I'm sure Sigewinne would have dragged on up here.”

Y/N laughed at the mental image of his words. “It is funny to see her dragging you to the infirmary. I think it was my first month down there when I saw that for the first time.”

“She made a big deal out of it that time. I was nowhere near needing to go to the infirmary.”  Wriothesley shook his head at the memory.

“I thought it was cute.”

He rolled his eyes. “I don't think I would call that cute.”

“It calmed my nerves down back then. You know I only started working in the fortress as a way to get away from my problems.” She shook her head at her past self and smiled at what that choice had brought her in the end. “It might have been one of the few times I smiled that month. Seeing that you let Sigewinne drag you around was very cute.”

“I still wouldn't call it could cute.”

“Would you rather I call you cute?” She was half teasing.

“By any chance when you fell, did you hit your head too?” He teased back with a smirk knowing how her reaction was bound to go.

“You try standing balanced on your toes with a dog running at you!” She crossed her arms leaning back into a sofa before looking away from him. “I can't believe I attempted to give you a genuine compliment and you think it's out of an injury. I'm starting to think you really did come over to tease me.”

Wriothesley’s hand dropped from the back of the sofa onto her shoulder pulling her in close. “I haven't teased you once yet.”

With a roll of her eyes, Y/N turned her head towards him. “Now I know for sure you are just messing with me.” She tried to force a laugh down. “Quit looking at me like that.”

“Is it wrong to admire you?”

“You look like you are planning to do more than just admire me.”

“Only if you let me.”

“I let you know where the key to my home lies. I let you stay in my home despite your unannounced visit. I let you see me in my nightwear. Yet you still ask if I will let you. I think you know what I'll let you d-”

Was it right of Wriothesley to shut her up with a kiss? Considering the mini speech she gave it felt entirely right. Which only became reinforced by how she melted into the kiss. To be fair all he had craved was a few short kisses from her at least to make up for the ones he would steal from her while she was supposed to be working in the Fortress. They were always worth it even though every time she’d kick him out of the infirmary unable to hold back a smile or a laugh. 

Y/N had pulled away from the kiss, moving herself onto his lap effectively caging him in on the sofa.

“I thought your ankle was hurting.”

“I’ve been resting all day. I’ll be fine.”  Her hands had wandered onto his chest where she had begun to play with his tie, giving it a pull ever so lightly bringing him closer.

“Just making sure. I wouldn’t want you stressing your injury just cause eager for anothe-” He had been caught off guard,  a welcomed change.

Y/N pulled him in close, placing a peck on his lips. “You definitely don't get to judge how I take care of an injury. I think I've lost count of how many times I've had to get on you about taking care of yourself.” The unintended double entendre lost on her for a second.

“I might listen more if you got on me like this.” Wriothesley kept a hand on her back keeping her close. The other hand was left on her thigh almost still as his thumb traced small circles.

Y/N barely had a chance to roll her eyes before she had been kissed again. She pulled away only for Wriothesley to keep planting kisses on her face. “I doubt you would.”

He spoke between kisses. “I’d listen to you read one of those medical books I see you going over on your breaks.”

She laughed. “You mean the medical records I’m writing in while I’m working?”

He kissed her once again. “Yes, those.”

“I know you’re joking but that is very much against the law for me to read to you unless it involves me trying to get a patient to the surface for more intense medical care.”

He leaned his head back. “I know what I said but if you start explaining anything like that for work again right now I will just leave to pick up dinner for us instead.” He warned, trying not to let their mood get ruined.

“You're lucky. I could have gone into chemical formulas or how there's a painkiller derived from mold.” She joked partially. There had been quite a large number of times that Wriothesley had walked in on a long discussion on the origins of certain drugs. As much as he cared for her, it was one of the driest conversations to ever witness repeatedly.

Wriothesley rolled his eyes. “I am begging you to shut up.”

“Do better at making sure I can't talk then.” She knew her words were bait, a challenge that she hoped he would take. Her face looked akin to a siren that was ready to invite him underneath the waves. And Wriothesley was happily willing to make good on what she told him to do.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #now if you know the song's second meaning #thats whats happening directly after this fic ends

[bluewatersfairy]

homebody - l.b.

loosely inspired by homebody by kalin white (a/n: i've been wanting to use this song for a longgg time)

synopsis: requested by @bemybinarystar! two people meet by chance on an app that thrives on anonymity and begin an x-rated relationship with one another filled with late night video calls.

warnings: mature content, MINORS DNI!! depictions of sex work, mutual masturbation.

word count: 3.2k

•••

Melo grabbed his laptop and climbed on top of his bed, checking one last time that there were no tell-tale signs in view that would make him identifiable.  This had become a part of his routine and what was once him being cautious was now a natural habit.  He originally didn’t care, it never even crossed his mind, but she had told him he needed to, she didn’t want to know who he was.  That was weird for him to hear too, it reminded him of how different this relationship was.  If you could call it a relationship.

When he had first discovered her, he was doom scrolling on the type of site that was created for late-night rendezvous.  He’d convinced himself he was just curious, he’d laugh about it later and go back to the more traditional way of fulfilling his needs.  But then he saw her smile and he had to stop scrolling.  Her description was limited, her height, tag name, and that she was drawn to the anonymity of the site; tell me something good and maybe we can figure something out.

The only reason Melo had even caught her attention was because his profile looked like a cheap bot: 2 tall, 2 long, fire’n’ice, was all his profile said.  His request sat in her inbox for two days until he sent her another message, ‘you ever think about castles?  they got pretty ones by the lakes in lithuania.’  It was a bizarre opening, but it got him out of her requests and into her inbox.

They messaged back and forth for a full week before anything remotely sexual was discussed.  Melo liked that she wasn’t jumping at his every response and that it looked like she had a life too.  During that week, they hadn’t shared much about themselves, but he felt like she was investigating him, despite the very few questions she asked.  The first time he received the app notification that she’d sent him a picture, his palms started getting sweaty.  

He locked himself in his room, something that would become routine, laid back on his bed and opened her message thread.  It was a tasteful shot of her full thighs and ass peaky out of a red silk slip.  Her deep amber skin against the scarlet made him gulp.  It was so little, nothing he hadn’t seen before, but it pulled his interest and ignited his curiosity.  She had waited for him to see the message before she sent the follow up, ‘your turn…”

Melo had spent the next 10 minutes cleaning his floor and checking that nothing could be seen in the background from his messy room.  He spat in his palm and stroked his hard-on till it was raging and grown.  He held the base of his shaft with one hand and took a photo with the other before sending it through.  

That was two months ago and though neither of them had asked many personal questions, there was this unspoken bond between them.  She didn’t need him to say when he’d had a rough day, and he knew how she needed to be talked to.  He found himself thinking of her at the worst of times and turning to her when he needed a boost.  In return, he’d transfer undisclosed amounts of money to her account.  Again, this was something they hadn’t really talked about, it was an unspoken agreement.

Of course, she never expected him to be so generous.  

At first, she assumed that it was an attempt to impress her and keep her interested in him.  She had told him after maybe a week of exchanging racy pictures that she offered more, but for it to be fair to the other people she entertained, he had to pay a small fee that he felt reflected their time together.  The beauty of the site that she considered her secret life was that she got to choose her clients and could easily report and block people if they ever became aggressive or obsessive.  She’d always managed to attract men who exhibit something she’s attracted to, but she knew “fire’n’ice” was closer to her age and clearly in a high position, and that image was addictive to her.  

When he had first sent her a large sum out of the blue, she’d been 3 hours deep in official documents.  She imagined him in a similar position, probably in slacks and a white button up, trapped in his office thinking about taking her at his desk.  She’d quickly excused herself, citing lady problems, and clicked off to the employee bathroom.

Melo, who was standing in his kitchen heating up one of the several protein-based meals he had made weekly, received a message with 3 attachments.  She was spreading herself open for him, and had framed her tits in such a way, he just wanted to latch on.  He’d groaned loudly and abandoned his meal in favour of his room.  His cock was tight against his pants and the second he freed it, he felt the ache take over his body.  

He squeezed his eyes shut and pictured her, imagining how she posed.  He thrust into his fist and straggled words flew out of his mouth.  In the haze of the moment, he grabbed his phone and opened the camera. 

“Look at my fuckin’ cock, babygirl, look how hard it is for you.” He spat as he finished his sentence, needing more moisture so he could fuck his hand better.  “I bet you’d love to choke on my big fuckin’ dick, aye baby?  I’d fuck your face and finish all over your tits.”  

He paid no mind to what he was saying, he was just talking shit as he thrusted harder and faster into his hand.  His cum spurted all over his desk, some of it landing on his phone screen.  He swore and stopped the recording before bending over, his chest heaving.  He’d never thought to do something like that before.  She hadn’t even made a video for him, she’d only ever sent pictures.  What had she done to him?

The video worked in Lamelo’s favour in more ways than he could have possibly known.  She already had a growing soft spot for mr. fire’n’ice but that video sent him to the top of her list.  He was the first client she reached out to during the days and his sessions were always top priority for her.  It didn’t have much to do with the money, she was just drawn to him in every way a person can be to someone they’ve never met or even seen properly.  He even had her questioning if she should take a step back from her other clients and just entertain him.  

It was bad.  Unprofessional even.  But she couldn’t stop herself.

LaMelo was still checking his background when her call came in, popping up on his screen with her explicit profile icon highlighted with a red ring.  He pressed the green button and did one final adjustment to his laptop so all she could see was below his neck.  He always wore a black wife-beater so that his chest tattoo was mostly covered but so she could still get a good view of his toned torso and the ever growing bulge in his shorts.

“Hi pretty boy,” her ruby red lips pulled into a grin on his screen.  She looked like she was laying on her stomach, her tits pushed together under a slip of vibrant material.  

“‘Sup baby,” Melo swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, “you lookin’ edible.”

She giggled as she ran her hand down her neck before reaching somewhere off camera.  She was sitting up, he realised, before she brought something of a prop on screen.

“I was gonna say I found these today and thought of you,” she giggled again, “I know you’re much bigger, but you can’t tell me that’s not a close match.”  Melo smirked as he watched her twirl two rainbow lolly-cocks in the camera.  

“They not that girthy, you could still fit them in your mouth easy,” Melo felt his dick twitch as she rested her pouty lips on the tip of the lolly.

“Are you saying your dick won’t fit in my mouth?” she bit on her bottom lip and dragged her hand down her chest as she spoke.

“I’m sayin’ it won’t be easy.”  Melo’s hand moved to the bulge in his pants and he gently palmed it.

“I like a challenge,” she smiled, “I’ll make sure it fits baby, you know I’m a good girl for you.”

“Show me.” 

His voice was raspy, and his dick was hard.  She’d caught him at the perfect time and he knew she could tell just how desperate he was for her.  He didn’t care that she knew anymore.  Truthfully, he thought it showed how well they knew each other and how much he trusted her.  

“Of course baby,” she grinned before adjusting her laptop camera slightly.  

Melo watched closely as she spat on the tip of the lolly cock and used her tongue to glide it down.  Kitten licks and teasing kisses quickly turned into her pouty lips wrapped around the head.  The wet sounds her mouth made against the hard lolly did nothing but strengthen the pulse in Melo’s cock.  He swiped his tongue across his bottom lip before readjusting himself, watching as she pushed the lolly further into her mouth.  

“You’re such a good girl, baby,” Melo pushed out with his head leaning back.  He watched her through his eyelashes, picturing her wrapped around him.  His chest rose and fell at a steady pace and his skin flushed pink.  He was getting caught up in the thick of things, he barely processed her transitioning from the lolly cock to one of her dildos.

It was one they had purchased together.  It was a late night call, much like they were currently on, and she had wanted to find something a bit different for the two of them.  Her screen was shared with him as they scrolled through an adult website.  Every now and then Melo would point out one, whether he was being serious or joking was always up for interpretation.  

“I want something that’s like you,” she said sheepishly when Melo had asked why he was involved, “it’s like torture seeing such a pretty and big dick and not be able to ride it.”  

They’d found a dildo similar to his size and when it came in the mail a week later, Melo received a video of her putting it in her mouth, popping it out and pushing it between her tits.  She said she wouldn’t to anything else without him, but he was out of town and sharing a room so it would be a minute until he was going to be able to be alone with her.  It ended up being one of their better calls.  Melo could barely keep his eyes open by the end of it, he felt so fucked out and exhausted, you’d think she had actually been there to suck the soul out of him.  He’d jokingly texted her the next morning saying he had a sore wrist.  It wasn’t a complete joke though, many coaches commented on his shooting being off that day at practice. 

“Oh baby,” she moaned through the camera as she pulled the rubber cock out of her mouth, “touch yourself baby, show me how you stroke it.”

Melo was rock hard.  He hissed as he ran his hand up his thick shaft and circled his thumb over his throbbing head, spreading his leaked pre-cum so she could see it.  She spat on her dildo as he squirted lube on himself.  

“Follow my pace baby,” she instructed, “you know how much I love to push you.”

“I’ll do whatever you say baby,” Melo swallowed and began to stroke his dick as she jacked the dildo.  She switched between going fast and slow, bringing different sounds out of Melo as she encouraged him.  She moaned at every twitch of his dick and felt herself growing hotter and hotter with each stroke.

“Fuck,” she spat out as Melo had to let go of his cock, his head thrown back and his eyes squeezed shut, “you wanna cum don’t you baby?”

“I don’t wanna,” Melo groaned as he smacked his cock, “you just drive me crazy Ma.”  His eyes refocused on his screen to find she’d changed positions.

She was sitting now, her thighs spread so her pussy was on full display.  Melo cussed at the sight of it.  Even through the camera he could tell she was just as heated as he was.  She was visibly swollen and practically dripping.  She giggled as she slipped her fingers through her folds, a visible tremble running through her at the same time.

“Look how ready I am for you,” she moaned as she fingered her clit, “you’d stretch me out so good with that big cock.”

“I’d give you the fuck of your life,” Melo gripped his cock again, “have yo ass screamin’.”

She picked up the dildo from her side and rubbed the tip against her entrance, “tell me baby,” she hummed, “tell me how you’d do me.”

“I’d fuck you in so many ways,” he started to jerk his cock again.  “God, I’d fuck you into your mattress baby, giving you the deepest strokes of your life.  You’ve never had a dick like this.”

“No I haven’t,” she whined, pushing the dildo inside her, “you’d have to go slow with me, I wanna make sure I feel every inch of you.”  she let out a gasp of a pet name, her free hand gripping on to her tit.

“God just the sight of your cock makes me feel crazy,” her hips were moving against her hand, pushing the rubber cock in and out, trying desperately to match Melo’s pace.  If he could function enough to think of anything at that moment, he’d appreciate her commitment to making it feel like they were together, fucking.  But his brain wasn’t working anymore.  Everything that came to mind was nothing shy of filth. 

“It’s all yours baby, and you’d look so fucking good bouncing on top of it.”

She moaned at his words, her tits bouncing as she fucked herself harder.  

“This big fucking dick is all yours, whenever you want it, I don’t care where, it’s yours.”

His room filled with a mix of her moans, his heavy breathing and the sound of his hand beating his cock, slapping with how fast he was jerking.

“Oh and this pussy is all yours daddy,” she moaned loudly, “I’m all yours baby.  You can put that pretty dick whereever you want and use me for whatever you need.  I just need you all over me daddy, your big hands wrapped in my hair, around my throat.”

“I’ll slut you out baby,” Melo groaned as he chased her words, “I’ll make you cum so much the whole world gon’ hear.”  

“I’m gonna cum,” she all but screamed, “keep talking, tell me baby, I want to hear you.”

“I’ll fuck you from behind in the mirror, baby.  Smack yo’ ass and pull your hair and make you look me in the eye while you cum all over my big dick.”  Melo repressed a loud moan and swallowed hard.  “We gon’ fuck all night, baby, the second you cum, I’m sticking it right back in there.  I’ll make it so you won’t be able to walk in the morning.”

Melo watched her body react to his words and struggled to process the sight. Her chest was heaving, fucking the dildo in and out of her hole with her hand tight on her clit.  She swore over and over again until her words were nothing but moans and Melo saw everything reach it’s peak.  She pulled the dildo out of her and did everything she could to stop her thighs from clamping shut.

“Holy fuck,” she gasped with her head thrown back and her hands jammed between her thighs.  She collasped against whatever was behind her and Melo watched her spread herself open and squirt.  “Oh baby, I’m cumming so fucking hard.”

Melo just about double over, letting out the loudest moans and groans he’d ever made as his load spurted out of his tip.  He massaged his balls and watched his seed cover his lower stomach and parts of his laptop.

“Fuck,” he sighed as he leaned back and let his dick stand to its own want.  

For a minute, the two of them didn’t move, just panting heavily staring at one another.  Occasionally, he’d stroke his shaft and rub his balls at the same time to see if he had anything left.  She was the first one to move, laying back down to the position she’d been in when the call started.

“Every time I think we’ve reached our peak, you go and do the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” she giggled as she put one of her fingers to her lips.

“Tell me how that pussy tastes babe,” he said, his voice audibly strained.  She smirked and put her fingers in her mouth, sucking them off.

“It tastes sweet and creamy,” she let her wet fingers drag down her naked torso to her nipples.

“You’re a fuckin’ problem,” Melo grinned and shook his head, reaching for the rag he washed for this call.

“I’m a problem?” she giggled, pointing to herself, “you’re the one who’s got me thinking of throwing all the policies out the window.”

“Policies?” Melo asked, suddenly brought out of his post-nut daze.  “What are you tryna say?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted with a shrug, “but don’t you feel it too?  Don’t you want to see my face?  Know my name?”

“I want all of the above, baby,” Melo pulled his laptop closer to him.  “Are you saying there’s more we could do?”

“I’m just thinking out loud here,” she hesitated, “you’re the first person I feel like I’d be safe sharing my secrets with.”  What was she saying?

It was a big confession, she wants to elevate things.  Melo couldn’t decide if it was his money or him but he really didn’t care.  He wanted to have her name and he wanted her to know his name.  But it’s unique, and she’d know exactly who he was if he said it.

Fuck it.

“LaMelo,” he rushed to say, spitting it out before he could think twice.  “I’m LaMelo.”

She smiled wide and he watched as she reached out to her laptop screen and pushed it back slightly.

“I’m Y/N,” she giggled.

LaMelo repeated her name, letting it pass through his lips to see how it’d feel saying it.

“So Y/N,” Melo smiled as he pushed his laptop screen a bit too, showing more of him, “if I offered to fly you out, would you say no?”

“Oh baby,” she smirked, “I’d be there in a heartbeat.  I want all that dick in real life.”

“Aight, bet,” Melo picked up his phone from beside him, “you give me a date and I’ll work out all the rest.”

#minors dni #lamelo ball #melo ball #lamelo ball fics #lamelo ball imagines #melo ball smut #lamelo ball smut #nba smut #nba fics #v writes #lb #from thee queue

[baratiddyappreciator]

Valentines Day Mega Post!

Happy Valentines day folks! Have this gift! I spent a while working on it to make it my largest post! We have SFW and NFW HCs and short stories all wrapped up in one pretty pink bow! HCs for both, but only short stories for SFW (ran out of time lol).

Baki:

He didn't celebrate before meeting Kozue, she was the first person to help him celebrate Valentine's day, so she does hold some part of him captive during this holiday, but he wants to make this one about the both of you, and that's what he's gonna do!

He really, really tries to make chocolate for you. He follows recipes to a T, but some steps just inevitably go wrong. Be it Musashi trying to jump up on the counter and eat the mix or the chocolate catching on fire while he's trying to melt it. He eventually caves and buys you some nice chocolates to make up for it with a promise that he'll get Retsu to show him how for next year.

Normally Baki is very open about his affection, he's very touchy and isn't afraid to tell you he loves you, and that affection level doesn't change. He expresses his love for you just like he always does, nothing really changes other than the atmosphere. He likes to take you walking through nice places normally, but during this holiday he makes the extra effort to take you somewhere romantic and pretty so he can admire how much prettier you are than any of it.

He'd honestly love to just take you out on a big date. From breakfast until supper, you're out on the town going through a list of things he's thought about in advance, from breakfast at the best hole in the wall you've ever been to, to a boat ride through a park, and finally to dinner at a nice place. He's planned it out to be perfect, and nothing is going to interrupt the two of you. He's even got a nice romantic at home movie night prepared!

Oh he absolutely wants to go and get you gifts! As a matter of fact, you can't stop him from getting you gifts, but he's going to make you pick them out. It's all a part of his hangout plan! Why stress about gifts when he can just take you to a mall and pay for everything you plan on buying? Get mad at him if you want, but he can afford it, and you're worth it. As for him, he doesn't need anything, but he'll treasure whatever you get him.

He really wants to find a nice scenic spot to sit and watch the sun go down with you. If it means making reservations at an upscale restaurant a year in advance just so he can watch you while the sun goes down, then he will, don't test him. As long as he can see you happy and enjoying yourself though, he's more than happy.

A familiar warm and callused hand reached across the table to hold yours, thumb rolling over the back of your hand as Baki flashed you a smitten grin, the sun shining warmly on your skin, glinting off of the water ahead of you, demanding your attention. Looking over, you were greeted by the sight of the water turning to liquid gold, the sky the colour of molten lava, the last of the sun's warm rays kissing your face as Baki leaned across the table to kiss your cheek, chuckling as he set a hand on your shoulder, thumb gently massaging to soothe any of the tension built up from when you'd gone shopping earlier, silently watching you as you looked back at him, smiling, bathed in the warm golden light.

It was hard to wind him, but you stole his breath away without any effort whatsoever, and this was one of those moments where his breath was gone, yours for the taking, just like his heart. He smiled softly, holding one of you hands in both of his. "You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen. I need you to know that. I love you baby." He spoke softly, a confession for your ears and your ears alone, one he would say time and time again if you let him.

Kozue:

She absolutely celebrates normally! She likes decorating her room with little hearts, she gets window paint and mixes several different shades of pinks to paint them on. They leave fun little shadows all over her floor when the sun hits right!

Absolutely makes chocolate for you. She makes different kinds, milk chocolate, dark chocolate, with and without fillings, just any chocolates the first year, then she gets feedback to see what you like the most.

She's normally pretty intimate with her affection. Holding your hand, kissing your forehead, telling you she loves you. She's already super affectionate, but this is an excuse to be even more affectionate with you. It's perfect! You can't get anything done without her practically crawling onto your lap for a cuddle.

Given the chance, she's going to take out out to a museum, walking around and joking, holding hands, going to the gift shop to find the goofiest looking things possible so you can scoop them and admire them in your homes. She wants to spend time with you having fun, so a museum, a play in the park, an aquarium or a zoo, she's taking you out somewhere fun where you can both nerd out over things together, and then go home for some of her mom's elite cooking and some cuddles, corny movies and snacks.

Oh she loves getting you things, but if she can get you something that will take out out with delirious laughter then she considers it an absolute win in her book. The ugliest looking plush you've ever seen? Bet your ass she's got it for you, but she's also going to want to get you something thoughtful and sweet that she knows you're going to both use and appreciate. As for gifts for her, she's going to insist that she doesn't need anything, and that she's fine just spoiling you and leaving herself out of it, but she's lying. Return the favour and she'll remember it for the rest of her life.

She wants to be cuddled up all warm and snug with you in bed, tired, comfortable and not hungry in the slightest, surrounded by your combined haul from the day, looking back at pictures and small videos that you both took of each-other, just so she can fall asleep peacefully with you and wake up feeling well-rested and looking back on the day fondly.

A squeal left Kozue's lips as she flinched back from the large bird on the other side of the fence, holding the bucket of food, which was being very quickly whittled away, between herself and the ostrich, leaving you breathless and sore as you practically folded in half from laughter, too amused by the situation to run to her rescue. Not that she needed saving, frankly, all she needed to do was take a big step back and she'd be out of range of the massive neck and head that insisted on being fed. Of course the biggest ostrich in the pen had taken an interest in her particular bucket of food and every time she tried to pull away, it hissed and reached at her, snapping at her fingers and her face. But now she was just barely out of its reach- The bucket rattled as she took one large step back, and the ostrich hissed loudly, flapping its wings and stomping.

She looked triumphantly back at you, only then noticing that your phone was up, her face flushing bright red as she rushed towards you, laughing and grabbing at your phone playfully. The sound of her laughter, boisterous and joyful rang through the air from your phone screen as she snuggled against your shoulder, her blankets pulled up to her nose, a soft smile on her lips as she looked up at you. "Thanks for a good day, it was even better with you." She whispered, pressing a kiss to your cheek before snuggling down again, nuzzling against your neck as you moved onto the next video, a clip of her petting a sheep, teary-eyed and so obviously happy that it almost broke your heart.

Hanayama:

In sharp contrast to Christmas, Hanayama's home don't chance in the slightest for Valentine's day. He doesn't celebrate, he doesn't even think of it. He won't even realise that it's Valentine's day until he goes out to a club or something and the staff all greet him with "Happy Valentine's day!". At that point, he's scrambling to get you something on time just so it's clear that yes, he loves you, but it really isn't his thing.

He can't bake to save his life, I doubt that the man can cook anything more than toast (poorly), but he can get you some good chocolate. Be it fancier chocolate outside of your normal comfort level for your price range, to exclusive chocolate only made once a year that is more expensive than you could ever have dreamed of affording. And he's going to make sure you have plenty to last you for a while.

He's almost non-affectionate when out in public, but he's going to take the excuse to lavish you in attention. He's admiring you at every chance he gets, grabbing your waist and shoulders, kissing your forehead, all of it. He doesn't care.

He wants to spend the day with you in lavish places. Expensive stores, restaurants, clubs, bars. He wants to spoil you (mostly because he forgot Valentine's day was today but shhhh), and he's not going to take no for an answer. He will, however, take your input in mind. If you know somewhere better to eat then he'll take you there, expensive or not.

He's GOING to get you gifts. They're pretty and expensive, but they're more of a general gift from him, with something more personalised being picked out by you while he spoils you while you're out and about. Definitely will get flustered if you get him anything, but he's going to

He wants to end the day admiring you in the low lighting of a club, watching you dance, drink and have fun. His guys might join you, and that just makes it better to know that you're getting along with his people and are having a good time.

Your hand looked so tiny in his. Nearly entirely dwarfed by his palm alone as he led you slowly through the crowd of busy shoppers at the mall, the crowds parting in front of him, almost like he was radioactive and actively threatening everyone's life. He wasn't, of course. He was just trying to get you to your favorite store before it got too busy or ran out of stock on your favorites. There was no way that he would let that happen to you. No way in hell. He'd called in advance (gotten one of his guys to call) to make sure that your favorite item was still in stock. They had limited supply, he was determined. And as frightening as it looked on the outside, it was just the most amusing thing to you. He'd looked so serious when he'd said where he was going to take you.

And when he finally got there? Oh he was glorious, loading up his arms full and staring down at you expectantly, waiting for you to pick out something else. Of course, the initial flustered response, and his insistent stare, you finally picked more out. He had to get two of his guys to come in and bring the bags back out to the car so you could both keep shopping. And now? Now he was walking with you again, hand in hand, a far more relaxed pace in his stride, your hand gently swinging back and forth in his. "You have a good day? Hope you did. I worked hard to make this perfect for you." He said, gently kissing your forehead as he brought you off to go to dinner. He'd promised something good, and if the clothes he'd told you to wear were any indication, him spending a lot of money on you wasn't going to be the end of it.

Chiharu:

He absolutely LOVES celebrating! He's got decorations up everywhere, he likes to hide little hearts in his hair and outfit, gets stickers for his motorcycle, he likes to dress in more pinks and reds, which is a very flattering colour for him and he knows it. Keep him away from heart-printed suits. He will get one and he will wear it.

He'll try very hard to make you some chocolate, but he gets backups just in case because he knows that the odds of him messing up are high. He might get distracted and all of the sudden boom, it's ruined. But he'll try! If he does manage, it'll be a bit lopsided and imperfect, but charming.

Openly, very loudly and gleefully expresses his affection. You are his god, his reason for being, he loves you so fully that Valentine's day doesn't change the way he expresses his affection. He's just as excitedly affectionate as always.

He wants to just stay home and cuddle you all day. No running around in torn, just cuddling and spending the day together being dumb idiots in love and being comfortable. He doesn't bother changing out of his pj's unless there's something interesting that comes up for the both of you.

Oh hell yeah he's getting you gifts! He's going to get you something GLORIOUS and so flashy it's honest to god a seizure risk if it gets hit by the light. Other than that, soft things, nice things. He wants you to feel nothing but soft and sweet when you're at his place. As for anything given to him, he insists that he doesn't need them but he'll gladly take whatever he's given.

He wants to spend the day with you, and that includes the end of the day. He wants to wind up in a pillow fort, laughing and cuddling, watching some ungodly movie. It's horrible and you're both wheezing because you've been laughing so hard, your faces hurt and there are tears in your eyes, but he's going to pause for just a second to kiss your forehead.

The blankets around you were warm and soft against your skin, the sound of Chiharu wheezing as he laughed, the worst rom-com you've ever seen, his arm slung over your back and his legs tangled between yours. It was almost like he was trying to constrict around you, desperate to absorb your body heat and get as close as possible while he cuddled with you. It was dark out, your dirty dishes sat on the floor ahead of you, practically licked clean from the quick dinner the both of you had made together. Just something simple but good, it didn't take so long, and it took even less time to inhale the food, though between all the laughing and the joking, chaste kisses and playful shoving, it took slightly longer than maybe it would have. Another kiss was pressed against your forehead as he pulled you even closer.

Despite the soft scrape of his slight stubble against your forehead, his kiss was sweet, affectionate, loving as he practically crushed you under him, leaving you to laugh and push at him in an attempt to get him off of you. "Noooo baby, I just wanna kiss you some more. Come on, one more smooch, I gotta show you how much I love you!" He whined playfully, before your palms met his face, smooshing his cheeks as you pushed his face away gently, earning a wail of despair as he rolled away from you, all the way to the other end of the blanket fort, laying like he'd been shot, mocking sobs escaping his lips before he cracked an eye open to look at you, almost hopeful, before promptly resuming his dramatic impression of a banshee.

Katsumi:

He likes celebrating for the slutty outfits he can wear. Any excuse he can get to show off his body, which he's super proud of, he's going to take full advantage of. This is the perfect time to get him some fun skimpy tops. Any boob cuts look great on him, and nobody is going to say anything because he looks like he could very easily throw them into the sun. And he probably would too.

He's definitely willing to try his hand at making you chocolates. So what if he gets his mom to help? It's the thought that counts, and Natsue is a skilled woman who would very happily help her baby boy make some chocolates for his sweetheart! If he fails miserably, either way, you're getting snacks from Natsue. It's a win-win situation.

Openly and very much in a lovey-dovey sense. He's going to kiss and hold your hands, stare into your eyes lovingly, like he's looking into the secrets of the universe. His father taught him that if he loves someone, he's gotta let them know it, and oh boy does he let you know. But once Valentine's day rolls around, he likes to fluster you by going over the top. Normally he's got pet names for you, but this holiday brings out the Pookie Boo Bear's and whatnot. He's going to fluster you to hell and back.

He wants to just let loose with you, do something kinda dumb and maybe a bit reckless, but fun! Like sneaking into an abandoned building with the guys and drinking, or even heading to the roof of the Shin-Shin-Kai building to just stargaze and play some music. The neighbors might not appreciate it, but as long as you're having a good time, he doesn't care. He wants to have fun with you, and that's what's going to happen.

He's absolutely going to get you a gift! Something soft and fuzzy that you can hug when he's working late at night at the dojo or out fighting. A bear made from a few of his shirts with a sachet drenched in his cologne is his go-to, but he's also the type to also spoil you, so expect to find a really nice necklace or bracelet on its neck so he can have something he can look at and feel proud about.

As crazy and eventful as your day might be, he wants to end it right. A nice dinner with a good view, warm food, good company, and then, once you get back to the apartment and get all the giggles out, a nice cuddle. He tones down the over-the-top dramatized affection to something you know is more genuine so you know he was just being a bit goofy. He loves you, and he's not scared of telling you that.

The day had been filled with laughter and fun, pushing and shoving with the guys playfully. But now, all of that was done as you sat, waiting on the couch, blindfolded as he hummed along to the radio, shuffling into the room to press a kiss to your forehead. He took your hands, leading you towards... Something. It smelled good, whatever it was, and he was careful where he led you. You were convinced he was just dragging you around the same spot for a while before he pulled you towards a chair, gently setting you down on the seat, pressing another kiss to your forehead, before he pulled the blindfold off, revealing... Your living room, all redone to look nice, hanging fairy lights, and a table full of fresh food, still hot. He looked so proud of himself.

The spread was truly impressive, but you recognized the handywork as Natsue's. Not that it mattered, of course. You'd gotten suspicious when you'd heard the amount of soft swears and clattering in the kitchen, and of course, the amount of time it had taken (and a suspicious burning smell) but it didn't really matter. You were just happy to have the food in front of you. "So I think you know, but I uh... Called my mom for this. I don't think it matters though. As long as you like it, right?" He said with a smile, pouring some wine into your glass and raising his own for a toast, before taking a long sip. He smiled at you, and leaned across the table to kiss you, thumb brushing over the back of your hand before you two started digging in.

Jack:

He didn't really celebrate it a whole lot when he was younger, though he did usually bring home chocolates from school and immediately divide them up with his mom. Many admirers had their hearts broken by this stoic blonde. But with you, he starts to think that maybe the holiday isn't as overrated as he thought, because now he just wants to spend the whole day with you being a normal couple.

He can't make chocolate, he knows that and he won't really try for the first few years, but on your first valentine's day he'll wake you with breakfast in bed: chocolate-chip pancakes with strawberries cut into little hearts and a nice hot drink for the love of his life. The real chocolate gift comes in the days after Valentine's day though. One day he'll just walk in with arms fully loaded with massive bags of chocolate, a victorious grin on his face. He's going to spoil you rotten if you're not careful, though a small cut get sent back home for his mom. He needs to make sure that she gets her share after all.

His love language is very quiet, which isn't hard to believe considering the fact that he's such a quiet man in the first place, but this is an excuse for him to be louder and more open with his affection. He can't stop touching you, and he can't help but just tell you he loves you out of seemingly nowhere. Sometimes he just needs to tell you because he's so overcome with it. Honestly, the way he treats you would definitely inspire some jealousy from onlookers.

He doesn't want to do anything fancy, it's not his way of doing things, but with you he could live in a leaky cardboard box if it meant seeing you safe and happy. He just wants to spend the day with you, and that's what he'll do. It's a lazy day for him, a cheat day too, not that he sees it that way. It's a reward for all of his hard work so far, and one that's well deserved! A walk in the woods, just spending the day cuddling on the couch or in bed, it doesn't matter as long as he has you.

He's not the best at gift giving, so when he realizes that it's February already he starts panicking a little. What if he can't get you a gift in time?! What if you don't like it?! But he doesn't have time to waste, so he gets to work right away. It's nothing fancy, but he worries that you might miss him while he's training, so he commissions someone to make a bear for you out of some of his old sweaters and shirts, which he sticks under his pillow for about a week just so his smell is on it. As for gifting him, he insists you don't need to get him anything, but he'll treasure it regardless.

He doesn't ever want this to be a disappointment for you, you chose him after all! A day spend cuddling and lounging around and just enjoying each-others presence will end that way, of course, but he's going to want to take you somewhere first. He might miss the sunset, but what he really wants to show you is the night sky, away from the light pollution of the big city. He'll let you ride on his back while he hikes out to a nice isolated spot so you can both sit and just be, the only people for kilometers to come. Just you, him, and the open night sky.

His warmth radiated through his back, the smell of his bodywash and cologne lulling you into a blissful, comfortable state of being half asleep and half awake as he walked. Even in the darkness, his footing was sure, like he knew where he was going. Knowing him, he probably did, he'd likely walked this exact trail for weeks in advance just so he could make sure it was perfect for whatever it was he was planning. You didn't really know how long he'd been walking, long enough for your much shorter legs to get tired, but the realization that he'd stopped dawned on you slowly, his hand patting your thigh for a moment before he sank to the ground, taking a seat, letting you crawl back into his lap, the heat radiating from his body protecting you from the chill of the February air, his lips pressing gently against your forehead, before he nodded up at the sky, drawing your attention.

The sky was clear, barely a cloud in sight, leaving you to be able to see every star up in the sky, glittering and twinkling so beautifully it took your breath away, but he wasn't looking at the sky, no, he was looking at you, the light of the moon illuminating all of your features, leaving him to admire you. "If I could give it all to you, I would. Every last one of them would be yours. It's what you deserve." He muttered, pressing another kiss to your forehead, arms wrapped around your waist, enjoying the sound of silence for the first time in months. No car horns, no music, just the soft rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. Just the two of you.

Kosho:

Doesn't celebrate, doesn't care to celebrate. It's not really his thing. He does the whole tradition of getting you flowers and corny gifts, but other than that he doesn't really care for the holiday. It doesn't change that much either the longer you date, but it does get a little bit better with the execution.

He'll buy you chocolate no problem. Not something cheap either, a nice, rich chocolate just for you. He's going to make sure that you know he appreciates you, even if he doesn't like this holiday.

His affection is expressed very quietly normally, and that doesn't really change much ever, specific circumstances aside, but if asked to he will make an effort to be more affectionate on Valentine's day. He needs to be told these things because he won't just assume what you want.

He just wants to have a nice day, regardless of what you do, and will happily go along with any plans you make or whatever you want to do, but if he sees you've been having a hard year he'll gladly plan something romantic out for you, though he doesn't need a holiday as an excuse for that.

He gets you roses as a basic "I love you gift" and maybe a plushy, but after the first three years together his gifts get a little less tepid and more "I know that this is an important holiday for you" kinda way. Any gifts given to him are very appreciated, of course, and he'll gladly accept them.

As long as he gets to spend the night with you in his arms, he's happy. He doesn't need anything other than that, knowing that you're safe and happy is more than enough for him, and he's happy for that every day he has with you.

He was so boring. You'd told him, but all he'd given you in response was a grunt as he pushed your face away, pausing to squish your face, staring into your eyes before he sighed, pushed you back onto the couch and stood, motioning for you to follow him. Playful bickering ensued as you put a light jacket on and proceeded to follow your gloomy and boring boyfriend to... An arcade? The windows were decorated with hearts and fake roses littered the counters and tables as he brought you inside, smiling slightly as he bought some tokens only to challenge you, like a fool, to your favourite arcade game... That he somehow managed to beat you at. Clearly he was cheating, like the cheaty cheater her was! A rematch was demanded, much to the same result. Rematches were demanded, games were switched, but eventually you only had four tokens left and a shared hatred of the cursed claw machine.

Kosho was insistent that he could win you the plush you had your eyes on and one for himself, he was determined, he looked up tutorials and cheats to see if he could force the damn thing into spitting up the prizes. And somehow, he managed while you were in the bathroom, returning only to have him triumphantly present you with the prize you'd been eyeing. "There! See! I told you I could do it! And you said I wouldn't do anything nice for you on Valentine's day!" He'd boasted, only to shamefully admit that he'd used up the last of the tokens on the plush you'd wanted, so you'd had to get more to make more attempts at the one he wanted. In the end, you'd submitted your tickets for the most ridiculous prizes you could find on the shelves behind the counter, but it was absolutely worth it to see his judgmental stare at the t-rex reach extender you'd picked a full month later as he used it to tear a wasp nest off of the wall near the front door.

Kureha:

He celebrates because he can be admired, but no other reason for that. He knows he's very popular with his coworkers (and even some of his opponents if he's being honest) and that results in the most glorious amount of both praise, open admiration and gifts he's ever received. He's going to get you in on this scheme.

Honey he doesn't need to buy or make you chocolates. If you help him in his Valentine's day scheme then you get a cut, fifty-fifty split, he promises. By the time the holiday is over you both have enough chocolate to last you until the next major holiday, but it definitely won't make it that far.

His affection is something he's stingy with, but he makes sure to lavish you in it on Valentine's day (definitely not as a way to make everyone else genuinely interested in him back off) in as public a place as possible, but that extends to when you're both at home. He does appreciate you putting up with this shit, and Valentine's day is one of two days he makes a strong effort to show it.

He'd ideally take you to a beach or something where you can both just sit and relax for the day, but if he's busy then he's busy, and he'll make it up to you with a really nice dinner (paid for in gift-cards that he got from admirers and colleagues) and a nice bitch-shesh in the tub. Complete with wine, gossip (his ass does violate HIPPA) and some trash TV. Doesn't have to be anything extravagant, really, but it is a good time.

He gets you two kinds of gifts: showy, for everyone else to see be given to you so everyone gets the message that you are taken, and so is he. But then there's the genuine gifts that he gets you, and those are saved for when you're both at home, having a few laughs and some drinks. They're sweet and very thoughtful on his behalf, and he expects the same from you.

After a nice self-care session and a bit of gossiping with some drinks, he'd honestly be pretty happy curling up in bed to watch a movie or read a book. Some down-time after all the work he does is nice, and he does actually enjoy spending time with you, even if half of the time he does he acts stuck-up.

The air smelled like roses, almonds, vanilla and oat milk as you both lounged in the tub, cuddled up as the Real Housewives screamed about their problems and their conflicts, wine glasses being swirled around like you were fancy and bougie, rich beyond everyone else's wildest dreams, your man breaking several HIPPA rules and regulations as he told you the gossip about literally every patient that had ever so much as annoyed him. You'd never thought that sitting in a bathtub full of rose petals with an oat milk mask in your hair drinking wine with your boyfriend while he told you about an old mans ruptured colonoscopy bag could ever be romantic, but here you were, and honestly it was a great time, minus the gross-out factor.

His lips met your forehead before he took a swig of his drink, both of you pausing in your gossip session to stare at the screen as two drunk middle-aged white women proceeded to pull hair and scream at the other, shouting accusations neither of you really cared to look into. "Oh my god... We're not that trashy, are we? We can't be, we're too hot to be trashy, right?" He asked, a serious tone in his voice, dead silence hanging between the two of you before the both of you burst out laughing, leaning against each-other for support. Maybe it was time to cut way back on the wine, but the mood was high and the night was still kinda young. Besides! You hadn't even done hand-care yet!

Retsu:

He didn't use to, but now that you're in his life he absolutely is. He goes the whole nine yards with decorations, expect to wake up only to find the entire apartment decorated for Valentine's day. Hearts on the mirrors, windows, scattered around the sheets, on the food, on the lights. It's honestly impressive, because they're not store bought. He's been making origami and cut-outs for weeks in advance just to make it a special time.

Oh he 100% makes chocolate for you. And guess what? It's got hearts! The chocolate itself is heart-shaped, the icing, the napkin with the plate. He goes all-out and honestly it's something you'd see from a high-end bakery that would cost a LOT of money. But no, nono, you don't have to pay a cent for it, and that's probably the best part.

He's shy with his affection, but that doesn't mean he doesn't show it. He loves holding your hand and doing little acts of service for you to show you that he loves you and cares very much, and this doesn't change regardless, but he does try to be a bit more bold with his affection. Kissing you while out in public, draping his arm around your shoulders if you're waiting for something. he's sweet and flustered, but he's trying.

He admittedly doesn't have any plans beyond what he's going to cook for you. He finds that planning things out is a bit more stressful and may not be as genuine of an experience, so depending on weather and mood, you either go out for a day on the town or you stay in all cozy and snuggled up together, though if there's a special event going down he does at least bring it up and see if you want to go.

His gifts are small but sweet, and honestly, he's the type of man that you don't really need a lot of gifts from when you're together because his very presence is a gift, and not in the way that Kureha thinks his is. Either way, he does make an effort to get you something nice, and anything you get him will be cherished. He takes care of his things, especially from you.

He wants to end the night together. Happy, full, having had a good day. Cuddling or not, as long as you had a good day he's more than happy, and he's going to tell you. Expect him to very sleepily thank you for the fantastic day and to be smothered in kisses.

Rain beat against the walls and windows, the chill demanding to be let in, though it failed miserably, being fought off by the warm blankets that Retsu had wrapped around the both of you, his face nuzzling into your shoulder as he hummed, arms wrapped around your waist to pull you into his chest. He was half asleep and comfortable, and you were pretty sure that he wasn't even aware that it was raining out, but he didn't seem in a huge hurry to get up and go out in this weather. He was sleepy and comfortable, and you were just so soft and comfortable, he couldn't help but just doze in and out of conscience until he got hungry enough to get up, kissing you on the forehead, and shuffling into the kitchen to brew some nice warm tea and make a simple but nutritious breakfast.

You walked up behind him and hugged his waist as he whisked eggs to make an omelette, a hum rumbling from deep within his chest, your cheek vibrating against his back as he acknowledged your presence, pausing to turn around in your grasp and kiss your forehead. "Wait just a little longer love, I'm almost done whisking, food will be ready and on the table in a few minutes. You should go get some more sleep, it's the perfect day to be lazy." He suggested, but you stuck to his side, enjoying the smells of the cooking food and the brewing tea, soaking up the warmth of his skin to keep the chill of the rainy morning air out.

Doppo & Natsue:

Oh absolutely. They celebrate every year, you're just an excuse to go bigger and better. And they absolutely go bigger and better. They use every chance they have to go on a big date together and celebrate. The first year you're with them is almost suffocating, because by the time the day is over your head is spinning and you might be more than a little drunk, but it's fun as all hell.

Natsue 100% makes you chocolates, but it's no secret. As a matter of fact, she's just as likely to make you and Doppo help out. IN the end, if any solid pieces of chocolate manage to survive, it's by a stroke of luck because some of it will be flung at someone, and the rest will all be "taste tested" (consumed without regret), so Doppo's stash of bought chocolates will probably make an appearance.

They're both incredibly open with their affection, and that doesn't change in the slightest. Doppo loves you, and he loves Natsue, and vice-versa. They're going to smother you with affection, and they're going to smother each-other with affection, and it's just one big love-fest between the three of you. Good vibes all around.

Oh there are plans. Doppo likes to plan dates to be perfect, and that's exactly what he's going to do. Something to satisfy all three of you, be it a trip to an aquarium and then dinner, or a day out in the park to cuddle once you all get back home, he's the master when it comes to date-night.

Oh yeah they get gifts for you alright. MANY. You will cry, Doppo will gently bully you about it, and Natsue will gently bully him about being an emotional sap that has to deflect from him feeling so sappy that he had to pick on you instead. Don't worry though, getting him literally anything remotely thoughtful will have him practically bawling. Natsue is incredibly appreciative of your gifts as well.

Doppo's an easy man to please: As long as the night ends with smiles and laughs, he's happy. If you and Natsue had a good time, he had a good time, and that's all there is to it. Though a cuddle pile is absolutely how he'd like to go out, because he knows he's comfortable to lay on.

Doppo's back met the ground with a loud thud, his boisterous laughter invading the room, echoing off of the walls as you practically pounced on him, a short wrestle put an end to the playful conflict though, especially when Natsue walked in and tossed her jacket straight at the back of your head, blinding you for the split-second that the legendary tiger killer needed to jab you right in your sides, leaving you laughing and wheezing on his chest. You'd barely kicked your shoes off, and your head was a bit fuzzy from all the drinks, but that was alright, you'd had a good night, a lot of fun, there'd been food and drinks and laughing, lots of hugging and getting emotional, but now you were just ready to sleep, your limbs heavy, almost as heavy as your eyelids. Doppo kissed your forehead with a chuckle, pulling off your jacket and shoes to go put them by the bedroom door while Natsue tried to urge you into a pair of pajamas.

Once everyone was comfortable and settled, silence fell over the room, one of Doppo's hands on your shoulders, the other on the base of Natsue's back, he looked about five seconds away from falling asleep, and both you and Natsue weren't far behind. "I love you two, you know that right? Do anything to make you happy." Doppo said in a low rumble, soothing the both of you into sleep as he kissed your foreheads, pleased with how his life was turning out. After all, being sandwiched between two of the most important people of his life, able to hug both of them, hold them close? That was the dream.

Motobe:

He celebrates Valentine's day in a more mature way, more likely to grab a drink than decorate, but he does humor his students and adds a few hearts to the windows of his dojo, some nice red accents. That's pretty much it. Other than that, he doesn't really care for the holiday, but he will make an effort with you.

He won't make you chocolates, but he'll get you some! Some nice ones too, rich and dark chocolates are his favorites, so you're going to get some of those so he can steal them when you're not looking, but others will be provided as well.

He's confident with his affection, he likes touching you. A hand on your shoulder or your waist, holding you close to his side while out in public, kissing your hands, your cheeks, your forehead, your lips, he's not going to shy away from showing you and everyone around you that he loves you. It might also be a territorial thing where he doesn't want anyone else making moves on you, not while he's there.

Oh yeah, he's got plans! He's got lots of plans! Starting with a brisk walk early in the morning. You don't like brisk walks early in the morning? Well he does, and he's going on one and insisting that you go with him. It's worth it though, because he takes you to an absolutely beautiful park with a breathtaking view. It's also literally breathtaking, you're going to be so tired after that walk that it's a miracle if you manage to keep up with him for the rest of the day.

Definitely a gifter, and a good one at that. He gets you some gifts that will outright make you ugly cry all over him, and you're going to feel bad about it but he's not that concerned. If he was looking for a specific reaction then he'd be able to get it, but he wants something genuine and that he can't predict. As long as it's a good one, he's proud. As for him getting gifts, he'll take them and he'll appreciate them, but he'd rather you save your money, he doesn't need much.

He ends the day as calmly as possible so you can get as much rest as you need. He's not far behind if he's being honest, once you're out he's only a minute or two behind, and if he can cuddle up with you, all the better.

Your calves were burning almost as much as your lungs, your back was uncomfortably sticking to your shirt because of the humid morning air, the sunlight barely peeking over the mountain ahead of you as Motobe easily trekked through the rugged terrain ahead of you. Your misery didn't seem to affect him, he didn't slow, didn't look back, and didn't heed your complaints and pleas to slow down or stop, simply urging you forward, to follow him with promises of this being worth it. You were glad you'd brought more than one water bottle after you'd heard it was going to be a longer walk, and at this point you weren't even feeling slightly guilty for drinking the spare you'd packed for him. This was a terrible morning, the worst Valentine's day to date, and you couldn't believe-

The view. You paused next to him as he sat down on the damp ground on a hill overlooking the small valley ahead of you as the sun finally rose, a flaming ball of light illuminating everything in a warm amber, the sky a brilliant rosy pink, fingers of light penetrating through branches and leaves, light speckling everywhere. "I was right. It's exactly how I thought. All of this, but you're the prettiest thing here." He said, making direct eye contact, patting the ground next to him, inviting you to sit and catch your breath. The hike back would be much easier, he knew a trail that would take you back to the road much faster, he'd just needed to stall as much as possible to time this just right. Would he tell you that? Not yet, no, but he was sure you'd figure it out after a few trips.

Shibukawa:

Oh he LOVES Valentine's day, he absolutely ADORES it. One of the days where his mischief is more directed towards everyone having a good time. Everyone being you and him, of course. He's a firm enjoyer of all the sweet treat ideas that people come up with every year. It's all very fun, and he likes to practice making origami hearts and roses for around the house. He's pretty good at it too.

Oh he's not going to make you chocolates, but he will take you out to buy some good ones at a place he knows has some quality stuff for cheaper. You're both going to have to split the haul, but it's definitely a good one, and you're going to both wind up having tummy aches for a while.

His affection is normally pretty playful, he likes to joke around with you, but on Valentine's day he lets himself be less incessant jokester and more dedicated lover and friend. He's very gentle with you, and he wants you to know it's because he loves you. As a matter of fact, the days before and after Valentine's day are some of the days where he's most reliably sweet without any pranking intentions.

A day out participating in celebrations, festivals and small get-togethers at bars and hole in the wall diners. Basically, after you secure your shared chocolate hoard, you're going out to have a lovely day with friends, family and strangers you've never met before, and you're going to absolutely love it because it's so comfortable and just feels so warm.

There's always a risk of his gifts being pranks, and sometimes he might just give in to that urge, but he at least makes an effort to spare you from from prank gifts and get you something nice! A pretty outfit, a nice hair pin or a necklace, a soft blanket with the words I Love You stitched into one of the corners. He will make you cry and he wants you to. Anything given to him will be playfully critiqued, but he does love everything he gets from you, especially if you can return his sass.

He wants to end the night with just the two of you in your home, cuddled up on the couch, watching the stars and reading with some nice calm music playing, drinking tea and just existing. It's nice to be able to take things slower every now and again.

Laughter filled the air as good food was eaten and drinks were passed around and sipped from, but your booth was peaceful now as Gouki passed you a slice of bread, a soft smile on his face. It was already buttered, just the right amount that he knew you liked, still warm from the pan it had been in, burried under all the others that were slightly cooler. You were still waiting for your food, but honestly, you couldn't blame the waiters, it was Valentine's day and they were fully booked, packed so full that there was barely room for the staff to weave between tables and deliver orders. You were more than happy to wait if it meant spending more time with the Aiki master, who sipped at his sake, eyeing a delicious smelling plate of food as it was carried past the both of you.

Sometimes you could see the gears turning in his head, spinning the wheels for plots and machinations. Maybe he was thinking of complaining to the manager to get your food? Or maybe he was going to swipe pieces from waiters as they breezed past the both of you? Instead, his hand reached out to yours, holding it from over the table as he held out a napkin in the other. "You have crumbs on your cheek silly, wipe them off before I decide to eat you up instead of this bread." He teased lightly, earning a roll of your eyes, but you obliged, accepting the napkin to dab at the crumbs. The food was probably going to take a while still, but at least the company was good and the bread was free.

Spec:

Oddly enthusiastic about this particular holiday. He likes to nab a marker and colour all of the hearts in his tattoos red or pink. He thinks it's nice, but by the end of it he just winds up having to get paint pens and that just smears everywhere, so he smells like paint and sharpie. It's a lot. He kinda stinks in general, this doesn't help, but you chose this one and there's no complaining because you chose this.

Chocolate? Oh sure, he'll get you chocolate! Don't pay attention to the red stains all over the bag though. And also don't watch the news for a few days. Or visit the gas station down the road. Just don't ask him where he got this chocolate, especially since he's flat broke and basically living rent-free in your house.

He's very odd with his affection, in which he'll almost drown you in affection at any given moment, but if he's having a bad day he'll act like you don't even exist. He does love you (maybe??? idk this one's kinda insane besties) and lord help anyone that tries to mess with you, but he's definitely a very particular guy. He doesn't even tone down his weird on Valentine's day, no, he gets more intense with it. He'll full-blown lick your cheek instead of just kissing you.

He's an odd individual and honestly would probably love to rob a department store with you. Don't let him, please, he can't go back to jail he's so fucking old and so fucking weird and now that he's had a taste of freedom (He used Doordash once and is in love, he swears by it, can't Doordash in jail can you?) and he will NEVER go back. But yeah. Department store robbery. Don't take him anywhere that has items for sale. He will steal them.

Oh yeah he'll get you gifts! Just be careful about wearing them in public or posting pictures of them. He doesn't want you going to jail. No they're not stolen, don't check the serial numbers of the very expensive pieces of jewelry he got for you. They are, admittedly, pretty sweet gifts from him, but the way he might obtain them is disturbing and you're better off just not asking. Ever. Getting him anything is a win-lose situation. He might love something once and then hate it for the rest of his life, but he's at least grateful!

The end of the day is loud and chaotic. Definitely has nothing to do with his multiple new cases of theft and assault. Definitely not. But once the cops leave and he comes out of hiding inside of your walls (he would and you know it) it does tend to quiet down a little. He probably wanders all around your place checking windows, curtains, doors and any electronics the cops touched for bugs, and then he'll promptly plop his ass down on your bed and pass out with or without you. After all, he had a long day!

You could kick his ass right now. All day he'd been doing something. Constantly leaving and coming back, acting way too innocent only to present you with some sort of gift. At first it was innocent enough, chocolate and steamed buns, then it was a necklace, then another few necklaces and a bracelet, some very expensive looking ones at that. And then you walked into your living room only to find him assembling an ottoman that you knew was way out of your price range because you'd been looking at it for the past week or so, staring wantonly at your screen as you longed to re-organize your furniture for the nth time this year! Granted, it was only Febuary, but still! It was the principle of the thing! And your furniture didn't even match the new ottoman! By the time it got dark, he'd brought you more things and you were convinced that when the cops pulled up you were going to go to jail, but with some quick thinking and honest bullshitting, you managed to keep your gifts and get out of an arrest!

But now you had to find the old man responsible for all this stress... Which could wait until morning. It wasn't like you didn't appreciate all of his gifts, after all. Shuffling into your room, you flopped down on your bed with a groan, drifting off slowly before you heard a familiar shuffle, a rustle at your window, and an even more familiar weight settled behind you. "Did you have a good day sweetcheeks? Huh? Did I do good with the presents I got you? I worked real hard on putting them together, I hope they last." He said, not giving you any time to answer before he promptly nuzzled against the pillow he'd claimed as his and passed out, hugging you close to his chest. Yeah, you could kick his ass, but he didn't deserve it for this. Maybe some other time.

NSFW AHEAD! Minors DNI!

Baki:

Yeah he had plans! Does he follow them all? Nope! The second he started thinking about sex in your presence his brain turned off the lights and he was basically left to just stare at you and drool. Which he did anyways, so it took a minute to notice.

On you? Oh it'll take him out! He's used to seeing a lot of skin on people, but somehow you taking off your pretty date clothes only to have sexy stuff on underneath?!? Baby he's going to give you a spit-shine. On him? It's subtle, but it's there. You'll catch hints whenever you put an arm around him. He's bad at hiding things, so you'll probably catch a glance if he stretches.

Oh he absolutely is down for some kinky, fuck mcnasty sex. Anywhere, whenever, however you want, you just let him know and he's down for it. His plans are already out the window, so why not let you have what you want? That's a plan, right?

Fancy dinners, a day out on the town, slowly and carefully drawing you in to get a taste of what exactly the Hanma blood can do. Not that he knows what the Hanma blood can do, he just thinks it's sexy to say that. Is it? Kinda, yeah. He's flashy, but genuine in his attempts to bag you.

If you want to try something special then he's already admitted he's down for it. As long as it's nothing too far outside his realm of comfort then he's perfectly happy to let you try whatever it is you want to!

Oh he wants to end the night with either him inside of you, or you inside of him. Someone needs to be inside of someone by midnight or he's going to worry that he did a bad job on the date he had planned. Post Valentine's hanky-panky would take him out, honestly, especially if you didn't let him hit the night before. Not because you didn't want to, no, but because you were just a bit too tired.

Kozue:

No plans. None of them. None whatsoever beyond a nice day out! So anything that happens is just improvised and it's probably hotter because of that to be completely honest. She's a mess once you pull her in close and give her bedroom eyes, either blushing and melting into a puddle or giving what she's getting and hitting you right back with a stare powerful enough to make your hips explode.

Oh 100%, she's wearing it even if you are already. She's got on a nice little pink number with cherries and hearts, and you're not going to get to see it until she brings you home afterwards. If you're wearing something too then she's going to laugh that you two had the same idea, but that's not going to get in her way.

Kinky shit is a given, if there's any day to try stuff in the bedroom it's on Valentine's day, it's almost a given that most other couples do. Tie her up, try a little bit of roleplay, you name it, she's down to try most of it.

She's confident, she knows what she wants and she's not afraid of just telling you what that is. And what she wants right now is to see you squirm as she tells you how bad she wants to pin you up against that wall over there and ride your fingers.

If anything, she's the one asking to try something special once you get back home. She doesn't have plans, no, but there's absolutely something she wants to try, and if you asked earlier, then she'll 100% let you have your turn. Just don't tucker yourself out.

She wants the night to end on a satisfied note. Emotional, social and sexual needs should all be satisfied in her eyes, and that's what she's gunning for at this point.

Hanayama:

Oh absolutely! But will he ever admit that he planned everything out? No lmao. It's obvious, but he won't admit it. He's not embarrassed, shut up, it's normal to want things to go a certain way, stop looking at him like that.

That's a pleasant surprise. One he wouldn't mind seeing again a few times. Expect the lingerie to become a far more common thing in the bedroom from that point on.

He doesn't want kinky stuff on his end, he wants to go along with his plan, and if that plan involved kinky stuff it's kinky stuff you've already done and agreed is something you would do again.

There's a silent confidence that'll draw you in, make your knees weak and whatever ussy you have yearning for him. He's going to use his voice because he knows what effect that has on you. He's merciless when it comes to seducing you.

He'll gently suggest putting a pin in that new thing you wanted to try unless it's something he was just about to bring up trying, in which case, try away baby, he'll let you do so very happily.

He wants to make it clear that you're his, so he's going to do everything he can to mark you up nice and pretty so that everyone knows that you're seeing someone, though he will be considerate. No hickies wherever you tell him not to, but he might push his luck.

Chiharu:

He doesn't have the capability to plan out horny things. He's horny? All thoughts leave his brain. If he does something, it's spontaneous. He's practically dumb, so if you want plans, you've gotta make them yourself

You're going to kill him. You're absolutely going to kill him, but he will die a happy, happy man and there's no changing that or taking it away from him. If he had a choice on how he were to go, then suffocating between your thighs would be the way, but this is a close second.

New stuff is fun and all, but he doesn't need that right now, what he needs is for you to just touch him already. If new stuff happens it happens, but he doesn't care as long as you just keep touching him like that.

There's no seduction on his part, you are seducing him and it's working, really, really well. He doesn't have the ability to think, though if you make him slow down he'll do his best, fawning over you like you're some ancient deity and he's but a humble servant at your altar.

You can do whatever you want to him as long as he gets a heads up and you keep touching him. You could leave your hand on the back of his shoulder the whole time and he'd gush like a volcano.

He's happy to fuck you to sleep, and then when you wake up, do it again if you'll let him. He wants little more than to fall asleep and wake up inside of you or with you inside of him.

Katsumi:

Maybe just a little. A teeny bit. He's got an idea for what he wants to do, but how he gets there is improvised. He's going point A: having a good date, and he's got point Z: hot sweaty sex in his apartment. He knows he can get from A to Z, of course, but he's leaving that up to fate.

He's going to wear something, so if you do too, all the better! Honestly, at some point he'd see what the goofiest piece of lingerie he can find is, and Valentine's day is the worst day to surprise you with it, but there's a tiny chance he might.

Oh yeah, he's got a few things he'd like to try, and he hopes you trust him enough to do so. It's mostly expressions of trust here, but if there's something else he brings up that you're into he's more than happy to oblige.

He's smooth, but not as smooth as his dad. He fumbles just a little sometimes, but that's okay, he tends to recover pretty well, and the mood will be more than okay by the time sex time rolls around. Yes, he will call it that. Yes, that will really delay sex time.

Pretty open to the idea, though he doesn't want to do anything that requires an insane amount of prep, cleaning or assembly. Sex swings are fine and dandy, but he doesn't have anywhere to hang one up in his bedroom, and he's not running to the hardware store with a raging boner just to get the supplies.

He wants to end the night cuddled up, looking out the window at the night sky and just talking. He doesn't need much more than being able to hold you and exist for a bit.

Jack:

Yeah. He did. And he'll admit it outright too. No shame, no embarrassment. He'll plan out all of it. Every little detail to make sure it's the perfect day for you, because if it's good for you, it's good for him too. He's doting and attentive, and if you think that him wearing that shirt he knows you like on him was coincidence, think again.

That was definitely not something he thought about happening, honestly, but he's not complaining in the slightest. An extra layer of fancy wrapping paper for his baby. He's even willing to do a little extra for you a few years in if the lingerie becomes a regular thing, though he'd have to really look hard, there's a disappointing lack of male lingerie that looks good.

He's a kinky fucker already, he's got a filthy mouth and if he finds that he said something that got you going, he's going to ask you about it and see if it's something you want to try or not. There's no pressure to try it right then, but you're going to hear words come out of his mouth that make you clutch your pearls.

Oddly smooth with this. That's because he's been planning. He knows just what he wants to say to you to get you riled up enough to practically drag him away by the arm back to the apartment, because that's what he wants.

He's open to let you do almost anything. You could honest to god cut him open and crawl into his ribcage and he'd ask if he could get you a blanket or a glass of water. You want something from him, just ask and he'll more than likely happily oblige.

He wants to end the night with his dick as deep inside as he can get it, but cuddled up and warm. A little bit of cock warming, sure and if that means he can wake up to you grinding back against him then he's more than happy to do it more than once.

Kosho:

No plans, just vibes. He goes where the night takes him, and if that just so happens to be into bed, then there's no complaints. He's fairly laid-back and willing to let you take the lead and do whatever it is you have in mind, from a quicky to an all-day affair.

That gets a solid pause from him. He needs a second to process what you're wearing, that you look really good, and he is a lot harder than he was just a second ago before he saw you like that. Nice little treat. Definitely gets him going.

There's not a lot that he's into enough to bring it up during a holiday like this. That's more of something he'd prefer to sit down and discuss, then figure something out so an accident doesn't ruin a holiday for you.

He doesn't, he's not trying to. Completely unintentional, but it's just the way his forearms look in his sleeves and his face looks in the light and- oh whoop, looks like you're pouncing on him. He's not complaining, and he can't say he doesn't understand.

He's going to gently decline trying something new. He knows that you like this holiday, and he'd rather not do something that you're not familiar with on this day. Another one that has been agreed upon. If it goes over well enough, then you can absolutely do it next year.

He wants you to end off happy and satisfied, and for him to not be single, so all in all, things are pretty likely to go how he normally hopes! Either way, he's happy you're here and he's going to tell you that in one of his fewer sappy moments.

Kureha:

Oh he'll plan it out alright. He'll plan it enough to get you to do all the work for him. He's lazy, do you really think he's going to want to do anything where he has to work? No, he's going to piss you off until you want to fuck him into your mattress, and then he's going to let you do exactly that and make it look like it was all your idea.

He's definitely putting something on, it'd be nice if you did to. It's hot, why not? He can admit that two very hot people getting together should wear something hot while they're doing sexy things. Makes it fun! Is he going to clean the cum off of the sexy lingerie? Absolutely not, he doesn't do laundry, he pays people for that.

He'll have introduced you to his kinks by now, so if there's something he's told you about that you both haven't tried then that's likely what he's going to be gunning for. He promises he'll let you have your turn after he's done!

He seduces through the Stupid Sexy Flanders method: effortless, unintentional, and then sheer fucking rage because everyone knows he's hot and pretty, and you do to, so why is he being such a jerk about it? You won't even know you fell into his trap until one of you is balls deep.

If he's letting you do all the work, he's more than willing to let you try something, especially if you let him try something too. He's fair, honest! Though if he doesn't like it he'll outright refuse, and depending on what you're asking him for he might straight up end the sexy times.

He's happy. Smug. Didn't have to move a muscle beyond getting to bed, because you did everything. He wants to be pampered, and once you're both cleaned up (he's not sleeping with cum on him, that'll cause a breakout he's not stupid) he doesn't mind sharing in that pampering. Just make sure to leave some pillows on the floor for when he inevitably cosplays an alligator in deathroll and kicks you out of bed.

Retsu:

No planning whatsoever other than to have a good day and to have said good day with you. He'd feel guilty for even daring to think of making up a plan because clearly this holiday isn't full of sexual undertones in literally every aspect. None whatsoever! It's a holiday celebrating love and- oh hey look, that chocolate's shaped like a butt plug. Huh. Wonder why.

He'll combust on the spot, be gentle with him. Nothing too hot now, he's delicate. Honestly, you could just walk around in your underwear and have him sweating buckets, you're just that pretty that anything fancier will definitely get him hard real fast.

He's painfully vanilla, the most he'd ask for is probably a different position he's wanted to try for a while but wasn't sure about asking you to do. It's nothing wild from him.

If anything you're the one seducing him, but he will turn on the charm once he gets "hints" (re: blatantly being told) that you want him in a sexy way in a very near future.

He's happy to let you do literally whatever you want to him. Mostly because he doesn't know all of the terms used, but still, as long as it brings you satisfaction he's willing to at least try something. He'll tell you if he's not having fun.

He wants you to be happy and satisfied. He's great at aftercare, he'll have you feeling good as new minutes after he finishes fucking you. Turns out a warm wet rag works miracles, or maybe that's just his fingers.

Doppo & Natsue:

Shockingly, Natsue is the one that does all the planning and plotting, Doppo has nothing to do with it, Natsue just plans and he goes along with it. What does she have in store? She's not telling either of you until it comes time to get nasty. It's always a good idea, really, but oh boy you'd definitely never expect some of the stuff she comes up with.

All three of you are going to get "naked" only to realize you all had the exact same idea, and that was to put on something sexy beneath. Doppo insists he pulled it off the best, of course, but he's not afraid to admit that you all look really good.

Kinky shit is exactly what you're going to get getting involved with these two. They make sex look like an Olympic sport, of which they are routinely receiving the gold medal. They've got likes and they're going to let you know, it's up to you what you want from them.

Doppo is brazen and suave, he's got a way with words that will leave your head fuzzy and spinning with want, but Natsue's almost worse than him (in a good way) because she goes from sweet unsuspecting housewife to literal sex goddess so fast it's almost scary.

You wanting to try something is only fair, they're more than likely going to humor you with whatever it is, even if it might be a little unconventional or weird. I mean, they're in a throuple, and most of the time Natsue wears the pants. If they were conventional then neither of them would likely be at this point.

Happy, safe and warm is how they'd prefer everyone to feel. Maybe a bit sore from "thorough use", but happy. You're all going to be a bit sweaty though, and if Doppo has the energy to carry both you and Natsue to the bath that's what he's going to do.

Motobe:

Oh he plans alright. He plans and plots, whatever you want to call it. He's doing all of it. You won't even know that he's planning until later when you look back at the events of the day and realize that it's very obvious . Especially with a fresh pair of eyes.

He's pleasantly surprised. How sweet of his love to wear something so nice just for him! He'll be careful with it, but he's just as likely to wear a little getup of his own, depending on how intimate things have been.

Kinky shit is his alley. He'll have you hanging from the ceiling forgetting everything but his name and the taste of his tongue in your mouth only a few minutes after you agree to let him have his fun.

The quiet confidence of a man who knows that he'll pull regardless of age. He's almost cocky, especially since he knows he's prepared and you probably aren't as prepared as him. Probably. He's hoping you aren't. Actually if you are he's screwed, because you'll both probably wind up sword fighting with dildos outside of his bedroom. I mean he'll win but still. Not very sexy of you two.

Yeah, he's willing to let you try something. Now what is it? Because depending on what it is, then his answer will range between yes, no, and "well you asked me to try something, and that in itself was you trying something so... No. ❤️" He doesn't want to bully you, but it's going to feel that way for a little bit.

Tired, sweaty and unable to move is how he'd like to be. Hopefully that's how you want to be too, because that's how you're going to wind up. You're welcome!

Shibukawa:

Planning, plotting, scheming. He'll give you whiplash at every turn, thinking that he will do you, then he won't do you. Until, of course he does do you, in which case you're just too fucked out to care, and he officially wins Scheming Bastard of the Year for the fifteen billionth time in his life.

Oh you'll get him flustered 100%. As much as he likes to act in control, secret spicy lingerie would make his whole face turn bright red, he can't look you in the eyes, hand are weak, arms are heavy, mom's spaghetti-

Not really as into kinky shit as he likes to make people think he is. He's pretty happy being relatively vanilla for Valetine's day, he likes to save the kinkier stuff for your anniversary or something along those lines.

He's clever, makes you want him so bad it makes you look stupid, and he'll tell you, of course, but that doesn't change the fact that you want him so bad that it makes you look stupid. He's clever and he'll easily find a way to get you into bed before the night ends.

He's open and willing to try new things if you ask him to, but he'd prefer to keep to something familiar for Valentine's day, even if it's more basic and less extreme sounding, it's still going to be good. He promises!

He's smug, you've got his cum dripping onto the bedsheets from your thighs, and it's honest to god way too late to be thinking about another round... But he's looking to smug and cocky for an old guy. You're going to wipe that look off of his face... Eventually. Promise.

Spec:

He doesn't plan things out. He schemes. About everything. From grocery shopping to fucking, he's got a scheme for it. You're going to think it's honestly just another day but he's changed things around so that your calendars all display a day late. You're probably going to wind up freaked out, but don't worry, that's fun when it comes to him.

Do you want him to have a stroke and die? Because he could? Pinning you to your bed and stripping you down only to find out that you're wearing underwear would be powerful enough to almost send him straight into the grave and he's going to tell you so. A lot. Very frequently. It's kinda unsexy.

Oh yeah. He's going to want to try kinky shit. He wants to try some things real bad because I'm convinced this man's never had a partner willing to let him be a straight up weirdo before, and you being willing to go along with his less naughty Valentine's day plans would probably get you in a weird situation later.

Brazenly, outright telling you that he wants sex from you and he wants it yesterday, but he's not going to push. If you're not in the mood then you're not in the mood. Doesn't mean he won't try to get you in said mood if you let your guard down though.

"Let me try something" from you usually ends with a resounding yes anyways, this time is no different, especially if you let him try his thing earlier on in the day. At that point you could probably get away with asking him to shove the whole Eifel tower up his ass.

Hot, sticky, sweaty and covered in a lot more bodily fluids than you might ever hope to me. Don't ask me which ones, because I don't have an answer. I doubt anyone does, really. Definitely cum and spit at least. You're going to have to wash off or wind up feeling crusty in the morning. And get some fresh sheets too. Maybe a new bed. Burn the old one.

#baki the grappler #baki son of ogre #grappler baki #baki dou #baki rahen #baki headcanons #baki hanma #kozue matsumoto #hanayama kaoru #chiharu shiba #katsumi orochi #jack hanma #kosho shinogi #kureha shinogi #retsu kaioh #doppo orochi #natsue orochi #motobe izou #shibukawa gouki #spec baki #valentines day

[toulousegrandex]

A Journey of Solitude

Azriel x oc

part 1

Part 2: do you like flowers?

Five weeks had passed since Juniper had woken up in the village, and she had not left that little bed once. It was pressed right up against a wooden window, perfect eye level for her to lay and watch the world tick by. She could see the edge of a pond, surrounded by greenery and flowers of every colour. Children ran past all day, screaming in joy with their mothers and friends. She could see chickens every now and again, ducks in the lake and birds in the trees. But, every time she tried to reach out towards the dream through her window, the bed swallowed her and her thoughts right back up.

She truly believed that if she looked away for one second she may wake up and be stripped of this beauty. Her eyes opening any minute now, taking her right back to her father's house.

Yet, after weeks of that fear she was still woke here, greeted every morning and afternoon by the same woman, Connie. “I'm back again, gorgeous." Junipers body dipped down as Connie sat on the edge of the bed. "It's beautiful isn't it." The older woman smiled, nodding towards the window. "I've been here for 50 years. Not that long in the grand scheme of my life, but long enough for the whole 800 years prior to not mean a thing to me any more." Her boney hand moved slowly towards the girls ankle, gently running her hand over the few grazes that still shone on her skin. "This place, will show you how beautiful life can truly be once you're ready. I'll be waiting for you." With one last pat, Connie stood and left her laying in the bed. Alone once more.

Two more days passed by, when Juniper finally found the courage given to her by Connie, to lift her body from the spot by the window. The white haired woman, with gentle eyes and soft skin, led her down the hallway and into a large, open space filled with tables and chairs. She learnt that they called this area the "craft room" but it was used as a communal space to do as they pleased.

She also learnt she wasn't very good at "crafts" and instead found her eyes wondering to the garden outside again.

"Explore, sweetheart. The world is your oyster now." Connie's soft words whispered into her ear and with that motivation she was gone. With shaking fingertips she slid the large glass door open and faced the outside. The peace and safety that came with this sanctuary is something she didn't know existed up until now. She spent hours exploring the garden that day. Taking in every single sound of harmony. No one yelling at her to get back inside, no men fighting each other in the distance.

The next day she found herself sat at the lake again. Fingers dancing through the grass below her, this time she slowly lay her body back, her head touching the ground. Her eyes closed. She had never felt peace quite like this before, and she was truly starting to believe no one could ever take it away from her again-

"Do you like flowers?"

Her eyes snapped open, above her black wings hovered like death. She jolted herself up on her feet, twisting around to face the dark voice. She recognised him instantly, one of the Illyrian men she saw in her first few weeks here. He radiated death and destruction, just like every man she had ever met. But this one was worse. Whispers of darkness poured from his sides, wrapping around his legs and hands. "Sorry, I just, I see you, staring out at the garden all the time. Do you like the flowers?"

Juniper was frozen in fear, she could barely even blink as she stared up toward him towering over her. Seeing her lack of response, his eyes softened and in an instant the giant man had dropped to his knees with his wings clutched in behind his back.

"If I could change what I looked like when I came in here. Please trust me, I would." Eye level with her he dropped his head down, almost pleading. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

With that, the reality that this could all be a dream seemed a lot more logical once again. Her feet backed her body away without a second thought, moving a few steps before turning fully around to speed walk back into the comfort of the home.

Maybe she shouldn't be leaving that room after all.

#azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel fanfic #acotar

[harrysfolklore]

another year

a/n: hi guys happy new year ! this blurb is inspired by the songs “another year” by finneas and “new year’s day” by taylor ! i really hope you like it <3

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Glitter covered the floor as upbeat music played all over the rooftop you and Harry were currently in, a handful of close friends and family gathered to say goodbye to 2022 and celebrate the upcoming new year.

You had a lot to be grateful for as you took in the last moments of 2022. It was the year that made you realize that love is not something that knocks on your door, it just barges in, and as you reminisced about all the moments you spent with Harry this year, including your first 'I love you', first anniversary and first holidays together, you grew emotional over reading the last page of a wonderful chapter of your life.

However, you were excited for the new year that was about to start, knowing that it'll be filled with moments next to the love of your life. From a stranger's eyes, it would seem like yours and Harry's relationship took off faster than an airplane, but the way you could draw each other with your eyes closed proved that what you had was strong.

Your train of thought was interrupted by two strong arms wrapping around you and a familiar scent that you knew all too well, belonging to the man that made the last 365 days worth it.

"I was looking everywhere for you, thought you'd ran off to find another bloke to kiss when the clock strikes 12." Harry said as he leaned his cheek into yours, making you tilt your head and place a kiss on his jaw.

"I thought about it, but none of the blokes around the area have a bank account as fat as yours." you joked for a moment, feeling his chest vibrate against your back as he let out a small chuckle.

"So that's all you want me for, the couple of dollars I have on my bank account?" he joked back, putting an offended tone on his voice to go with his act.

"That and your fantastic arse." you made him chuckle again and place a couple of sloppy kisses to your check before falling into a comfortable silence for a bit.

You were in a less crowded area of the rooftop your friends rented for the celebration and the loud music that played on the dance floor was just background noise for you, and as you stood wrapped up in your love's arms, feeling his chest rise and fall with every breath he took, your only wish for 2023 was to spend every minute with him.

"What's on your mind?" Harry said after spending a couple of more minutes in silence.

"You know, just thinking about how believing that Jesus Christ was born to save us it's an awful lot of pressure for a baby and that's why New Year's is the superior holiday." you shrugged after speaking, making Harry let out a laugh once again.

"You're mental," he began, "Are you drunk already?"

"Nope, I've been having mocktails all night, I'm not in the mood to get hammered." you said as you turned around to have a proper look at him for the first time since he approached you.

He looked absolutely dreamy, cream colored trousers and black button up shirt adorning his body, along with his sparkling green eyes and red tinted lips from the glass of wine he had a few moments prior.

"That's good, saw NyOh barefoot in the lobby with her heels in her purse, she's hammered already and it's not even midnight" it was your turn to let out a small chuckle at the your friend and her way to celebrate the new year.

"Any resolutions for the new year, baby?" Harry spoke again, running his hands through your arms as a way to warm you up a bit, the chilly air kicking in and making goosebumps appear on your skin.

"I don't really believe a resolution's gonna change me," you began, "But I would love to be a bit more open to the though of failing, you know? I just want to be a little less of a perfectionist and let things be a bit messy if they have to be." you shrugged and a smile appeared on Harry's face, he felt proud of your statement.

"What about you, lovie?" you let him pull you into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist and feeling his strong ones take over your shoulders.

"Honestly, to have the gorgeous girl around my arms next to me for another 365 days." his statement made your heart melt, your wish was the same as his.

"You're such a sap, you know?" you threw your head back to look at his eyes, the sparkle on them still present.

"And I love you more and more each day, you know?" and without further notice and before you could reply, he crashed his lips to yours, making you savor the aftertaste of wine from his lips, he moved his arms from your shoulders to grab your face with both of his hands, deepening the kiss.

You pulled away after a few more seconds to speak, "Easy there, tiger. You can't shag me before midnight." he rolled his eyes with affection for a second, placing a final peck to your lips.

"I can shag you whenever I please, thank you very much." It was your turn to roll your eyes and lay your head on his chest again, listening to his heartbeats softly and feeling his hand caress your hair.

"You know, you take the piss at me for being a sap, but right now I can't find poetic ways to say that I hope this lasts another year" he spoke again, letting his words linger in the air and making your heart melt once again.

"I have no clue of where I'll be next year, but I want to be next to you for as long as you'll have me, lovie." you told him withe the softest voice you had, allowing yourself to be vulnerable with him.

"Who's the sap now, huh? Aren't you just a softie, baby?" he teased you for a minute, kissing the side of your face obnoxiously and tickling your sides a bit.

"Let's gather with the rest, It's time for the countdown." you ignored his remark and grabbed his hand to drag him to where everyone was getting together to count down the seconds before 2023.

Placing yourselves next to Mitch and Sarah, Harry stood behind you with his hands on your shoulders, his tall figure towering over you.

"10..9..8.." Jeff, the host of the night, made everyone chant along with him, excited grin's on everyone's faces as they got eager for the clock to hit midnight.

"5...4...3...2...1! Happy New Year!" everyone around the room erupted in cheers and celebratory claps, Jeff even popping open a bottle of champagne.

Harry's hands on your hips made you turn around to crash your lips into his, and in that moment you knew you wanted to start all of your years this way.

"So, another year?" He breathed out, pressing his forehead against yours and his hands not leaving your face.

"Another year." you promised, and with that your lips were against each other again.

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