#idk if this happened slowly and I’m just now realizing or if this is just the result of my quarantine spiral

[cillianmurphyygf]

i think i'm in love with you

ꕥ luke castellan x afab!reader

warnings: descriptions of wounds + blood, allusions to sex but no actual smut, shitty writing (i havent wrote a fanfic in multiple years), not proofread cuz im way too lazy, (y/n) isn't used at all in this idk i almost like reading fanfic better without it

summary: you wake up in the middle of the night to strange noises. you find luke outside, with a deep wound in his side. you take him to the lake to take care of him. unfortunately for you, luke's in a teasing mood.

word count: 2.7k

You awoke suddenly to strange noises. Soft groans fell through the walls of your cabin. At first, you assumed it to be something you should be careful not to walk in on. But, as your head cleared up more as you fully woke up, it sounded more like someone who was in pain. 

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you slowly pulled the covers off of your body and stepped into a pair of soft slippers. You carefully weaved through the various beds in the dark towards the door. The groans continued, rendering you more concerned and nervous. You quietly eased the door open, wincing at every squeak it made. You peeked your head outside, searching for the source of the noise.

Through squinted eyes, your attention eventually landed on a certain Hermes boy laid down in the grass. Luke. You quickly shut the door, completely forgetting about keeping quiet, and tip-toe ran across the grass towards the boy. You and Luke had been friends for quite a while. You arrived at camp a month or so after him, and he was the most welcoming one there. While you remained unclaimed in the Hermes cabin for a few months, it didn’t really hurt as much while you were with Luke. He was the perfect distraction and a great friend, although you had begun to wish for something more.

“Luke!” You whisper yelled, causing him to practically jump a foot off the ground. Looking towards the startling voice, he realized it was you. He quickly sat up, his hand placed on his chest as he tried his best to calm his suddenly erratic breathing.

“Oh, thank gods, it’s just you,” he laughed breathlessly, suddenly wincing and placing his hand on his side. His flushed face turned down toward his wound before he threw his head back again, hissing in pain.

“What happened?!” You exclaimed in a panic, running to close the last piece of distance between you both. You quickly fell to your knees next to him, trying to get a good look at whatever was hidden underneath his hand. He attempted to laugh it off but immediately winced and groaned. His hand remained on his side, hiding whatever had happened. “Luke I’ve gotta see..” you tried.

“I’m fine,” he responded, dismissively. He gave you a tightlipped smile in an attempt to reassure you. It did quite the opposite. You reached your hand to pull his away from his side.

“You’re not fine Luke-” His free hand grasped your wrist tightly, preventing you from moving yours any closer to his wound. You stayed silent and unstill, unsure of the situation. In your moment of stillness, your eyes raked over his hand wrapped tightly around yours. The veins in his hand and forearm looked so perfect, especially under the soft moonlight. You wondered what his hand would look like wrapped around your-

“Hey!” Luke snapped his fingers in front of your face, trying to regain your attention.

“Huh?” You responded, clueless and still in a daze, your eyes stuck on his hand around yours. You could have sworn you saw a sly smirk adorn his face from the corner of your eye but you brushed it off. You were tired, you were probably just seeing things. You snapped out of your trance, looking back at his face, confused about everything. “Luke, you’ve gotta let me help you-”

“Princess, I-”

“I have no idea what you did or what happened to you, but I’m worried and you’re being so confusing right now..” You trailed off, avoiding his eyes for a moment. Princess. You hated (loved) when he used that nickname for you. It gave you hope that he could ever feel the same way about you. You heard Luke sigh.

“Okay, I just got in a bit of a fight with an Ares kid.. he pulled a knife on me, got me in the side.. I was clumsy, made a mistake,” he removed his hand from your wrist, prompting you to reconnect your eye contact. “I’m fine and I’ll be more careful next time.” He smiled, trying to dismiss your worries yet again.

“Can you show me?” You asked tentatively. He looked at you and nodded. You noticed that same smirk from earlier, only softer and more hidden. Maybe you hadn’t been imagining things. You watched his hand reach down to the hem of his shirt. Oh shit. You had not thought about that. You internally facepalmed. You were so fucked. His fingers wrapped around the bottom seam of his shirt as he pulled it up about halfway. Your eyes immediately darted to his wound. A seemingly deep gash ran from about the bottom of his ribs to the top of his pelvis. Blood trickled along his already blood covered skin. Oh it looked bad. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, a nervous habit. 

As you examined the bloody gash, your eyes had other ideas. Your gaze slowly moved on to take in his toned abdomen. He had nice abs, prominent, but not so much like those crazy American bodybuilders. They gave you the creeps. His were just the perfect shape, size, and.. everything about him was perfect. While his side was doused in his own blood, the rest of his abdomen was covered in scattered beads of sweat. He looked good. Like really good. Luke’s sharp intake of breath broke you out of your trance. You quickly cleared your throat, hoping he hadn’t noticed you had been examining the rest of his body instead of his injury. 

“I’d ask if you like what you see but.. I’m in a bit of a predicament currently.” Luke chuckled, referring to the bloody gash. Your face flushed red. Shit, he noticed. You fumbled over your words, trying to form a coherent sentence. He watched you, amused, but still very evidently in pain. You abruptly stood up, offering Luke your hand.

“You got a kit or something I can use?” You asked as you carefully pulled him to his feet. His arm landed to rest over your shoulders. You felt the breath leave your body. He was so close. His body heat radiated heavily onto your already heated body. You hoped he couldn’t feel how hot you are, or how loud and hard your heart was beating. His quiet groan brought you back to your senses.

“Yeah I’ve got a kit hidden in the trees near the beach.” He finally answered. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Why.. there?” You asked, genuinely confused. Luke looked down at you as if you should have already known.

“For times like these.” He replied, as if it were obvious. You just shrugged and let him slowly lead you to the beach. The trek through the grass proved a lot more difficult than you had expected. Random bumps and holes in the dirt caused you both to almost fall multiple times.

“Here,” Luke spoke and pointed a few feet in front of you. You nodded and slowly lowered him to the ground, leaning him against the tree. Your hands rummaged and dug through the dirt in search of Luke’s medical kit. Your fingernail eventually scratched along a hard, plastic surface. You dug your hands further into the dirt to pull the case out of the ground.

“I got it!” You sighed in relief. Your hands were becoming increasingly tired from all of the digging. You sat next to Luke, opening the latches of the small box. He smiled at you, watching your every move, completely mesmerized by you. You grabbed the small bottle of rubbing alcohol and popped it open. You opened your mouth to speak, looking up at Luke, only to find him already looking back at you. You quickly looked away, your face flushing a deep crimson. You took a deep breath before allowing yourself to actually speak.

“I’m gonna need you to hold your shirt up above the cut, if you’re comfortable.” You looked back up at Luke, nervously waiting for his response. You shouldn’t have been that nervous, you were just tending to his wound, nothing else. But still, the idea of asking him to lift up his shirt and reveal his really nice abdomen embarrassed you a lot.

“Yeah of course.” He replied in a suddenly husky, low voice. It caught you off guard, causing even more heat to rush to your cheeks.. and to the spot between your legs. He grasped the hem of his orange shirt and pulled it up, revealing the wound again.

“Okay.. this is gonna hurt, but I’ve gotta clean it out somehow.” You warned, slowly starting to pour the rubbing alcohol over the cut. Luke nodded in acknowledgement, hissing immediately as the strong liquid hit his skin. You hadn’t really treated all too many wounds in your lifetime, let alone a cut as deep and bloody as this one. You hoped you were doing it right and you weren’t making it worse. Luke’s harsh groans and hisses weren’t aiding your stressed mind. Throughout the few minutes you spent drenching his side in rubbing alcohol, you noticed him drop his shirt a few times, muttering apologies, saying his hands were having trouble keeping it up. You brushed it off each and every time it happened. 

Once you finally deemed it enough rubbing alcohol, you moved away from his abdomen, grabbing the cap of the bottle. Your shaky hands tried closing the bottle but to no avail. You were stressed and embarrassed, and your entire body was shaking way too much. Luke’s warm hands grasped yours.

“Hey,” He whispered, grabbing your attention. You looked up at him. “I’ve got it.” He smiled at you, and carefully took the bottle from your palms to close it himself. You whispered your thanks under your breath, so quiet, you almost couldn’t hear it yourself. You reached back into the medical kit to pull out a cloth and an antiseptic wipe. You placed your hand on Luke’s cheek. Red slowly started to creep up his neck and into his cheeks, unbeknownst to you.

“I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna wet the cloth.” You told him, smiling and standing up. 

“You’re too good to me.” Luke said, in that low voice, again. You turned quickly to hide your blush, making your way to the shore, as quick as you could. You dipped the cloth in the cold water and rung it out. You jogged back to Luke at the tree, dropping back onto your knees next to him. You lightly dabbed the cloth around his cut, trying to pick up and clean up the blood all over him. You did your best to avoid pressing into the actual cut, but failed a few times. Luke tried his best to keep his cool, but you could see how much he was hurting. You felt awful. 

Occasionally, Luke would let the hem of his shirt slip out of his hands, obscuring your cleaning abilities. He would apologize profusely, telling you he had no idea why it kept happening. When you would shrug and go back to cleaning the blood, a smug smile would pull at his lips. You were so clueless.

You continued to clean the excess blood off of Luke’s body. His shirt would drop every couple minutes. He would apologize, and you would get back to work. This went on for a little over ten minutes.

You placed the cloth at your side, actually proud of what you had got done so far. You had managed to clean up the majority of the blood from his cut, and it was looking a lot better now. All that was left for now was to wrap it up and then send him for Ambrosia to finish the healing process. 

As you grabbed the roll of bandage from the box, you watched Luke drop his shirt yet again. He sighed dramatically and threw his hands up in defeat.

“I just can’t keep my shirt up. Guess I’m just gonna have to take the whole thing off.” He sighed and grabbed the hem, pulling it up and over his head. You were practically drooling as you watched. The way his muscles flexed when he ripped his shirt off.. it was so.. hot. You could now see his entire toned abdomen, and his chest. Your face was surely beet red at this point. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. 

You had no idea in your trance, but Luke was watching the way you looked at him, a smug smile adorning his perfect face. He loved the way you reacted to his body. He thought you were the cutest thing. It was fun to see you all flustered like this. Eventually, by some miracle you were able to pull your eyes away from Luke’s body to focus on bandaging him up. You hastily unraveled the thin cloth, trying to ignore the burning feeling of Luke’s eyes on you, watching your every move. 

You leaned over his body, trying to reach to start the wrapping. It turned out to be really difficult, as you could barely reach. You sat back and sat there for a moment, trying to clear your head and figure out your next plan of action.

“I’m not sure how I’m gonna..” You admitted quietly, embarrassed. Luke looked up at you with a very clear and obvious smirk on his face. This worried you. You had no idea what he was planning, and you did not want to make a fool of yourself. 

To your immense surprise, Luke’s hands grabbed onto your hips and lifted you off the ground, making you squeal. He sat you down on his lap, in a straddle position. You were so close. Too close. The embarrassingly warm area between your legs sat right over his. You prayed and prayed he couldn’t feel it. You would never live it down.

“That’ll do it.” Luke smiled and pat your thigh encouragingly, causing you to let out a sharp squeak. You gulped and tried to focus on the bandage again. Your shaky hands brought the edge of the bandage to his back as you wrapped it around his torso, multiple times over. You wrapped it tight, but not too tight as to suffocate Luke.

Although, at that point it wouldn’t have mattered. Luke was completely focused on making you a flustered mess. The intense pain he was in was in the very back of his mind. He could barely feel it at this point. He was having way too much fun with you.

After the most painfully long two minutes of your life, you had finally finished wrapping Luke up. You let out a huge breath you didn’t know you were holding, feeling a weight drop off of your shoulders. You had never felt so stressed and embarrassed in your life. You hoped your work would hold up well and you had done it right.

Luke’s arms wrapped around your torso, pulling you in even closer. His nose brushed against yours as he looked up at you through heavy-lidded eyes.

“Thanks for your help,” he whispered in his gravelly voice. He leaned in even closer. “Means a lot.” He mumbled, almost against your lips. Your heart rate was through the roof. He was so close. So close you could kiss him. You could feel his breath mingling with yours. The warmth between your legs only continued to grow now. Luke chuckled lowly, watching the thoughts flow through your mind.

Luke moved his lips ever closer to yours. Dropping to a deep whisper, he spoke again. “I think.. I’m in love with you..” His lips moved slowly to capture yours. Your eyes widened, before you closed them, easing into his kiss. 

Your lips moved in perfect unison, as if made for eachother. Your hands moved to grip his dark curls. You softly pulled, feeling him moan into your mouth. Luke pulled away, moving his lips to your neck. Nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. He was sure to leave many marks on your delicate skin.

“I-” You were cut off by your own moans as Luke’s hands moved to rest on your breasts while his kisses along your neck became harsher. He slowly pulled away from your neck, keeping his hands on your chest.

“What were you gonna say, baby?”

“I.. love you as well.” You replied, breathless. Luke smirked, crashing his lips into yours again.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #pjo series #percy jackson series #x reader #pjo show #percy jackson show

[st7rnioioss]

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ 3 times chris recorded you waking up, 1 time nick recorded both you and chris

chris sturniolo x reader

warnings: fluff, kissing, swearing, intentional lowercase, not proofread

a/n: heeello lovely peopleeeee. idk i got really tired but then this idea popped into my head so i just started writing my fingers off.

1 ࿔*:･

chris couldn’t contain his laughter, trying to giggle as silently as he pressed record on his phone. on his screen, you were in the spotlight, laying on your side as you peacefully slept, which was about to be interrupted by chris and his new obsession: recording you sleeping.

“y/n. y/n, wake up!” chris whispered, shaking your shoulder with one hand, watching you stir around in bed with a groan.

you hugged your pillow a bit tighter, turning your back on chris in an attempt to make him stop shaking your shoulder. chris couldn’t stop giggling, both because he found this stupid as fuck, but also because you looked so adorable to him.

“y/n, it’s time to get up. say hi to the vlog,” chris joked, obviously not planning on sharing this with anyone but you and himself, motioning the camera closer to your face. “what? chris, fuck off,” you groan, keeping your eyes closed but eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

he kept shaking your shoulder, basically pressing his phone up in your face as you opened your eyes slowly.

“there she is, say hi to youtube!” chris laughed, now a little louder due to you being awake. or atleast, a little awake. “go to hell!” you mumble, pushing his phone away with one hand, letting a tiny smile tug at your lips.

chris picked his phone up, placing it on the nightstand as he slumped on top of you.

“ow, what the fuck. chris, i’m sleeping and you’re heavy,” you trailed off, trying to push chris off your back. “no. i’m comfortable,” chris protested, wrapping his arms around your waist as he got even more comfortable on your back, pressing soft kisses against your back.

little did chris know, the video was still going, capturing the.. ‘conversation’ you were having.

2 ࿔*:･

"y/n! wake up, immediately!" chris whisper-yelled, patting your head with one hand, the other holding his phone.

you were cuddled up in your shared bed, sprawled out on the huge mattress. a few teddies chris had gotten you over the years were also thrown around the bed. you opened one eye, seeing chris in front of you with faux-concern plastered on his face, which you couldn't tell from your tired state.

within a few seconds, your head shot up in pure terror. "what? what is it?" you mumbles, growing concerned. chris's tone was different from normal, so you were ready for any sort of horrific thing to have happened to something or someone.

chris then burst into laughter, now realizing he was holding his phone out, directing it at your face.

"chris! this isn't funny, i thought someone was hurt! fuck you, i was having the best dream of my life!" you groaned, plopping down onto your pillow as chris continued to laugh.

he then stopped, feeling bad for pissing you off.

"no, no! i'm sorry, baby. i was just fooling around," chris tried to hide his laughter, shutting his phone off as he laid down beside you in bed.

"i hate you," you mumbled back with a grin, pressing an angry-loving kiss to his forehead, before turning back around to continue your sleep.

"did you save the video, though?"

3 ࿔*:･

chris had seen a specific video on tiktok that he wanted to try out with you: puckering his lips in front of you while you're asleep, in attempt to get your immediate reaction.

he was having way too much fun with this. slowly, he made his way out of bed so he could face you, sitting on his knees on the floor to record you and his face on the edge of the bed.

with a giggle, he leaned in to pucker his lips, making sure to tap your shoulder a few times to wake you. at first, nothing happened, but as he tapped your shoulder again, you opened your eyes groggily to find chris’s lips puckered right in front of your eyes.

almost as an instinct, you reached out to cup his cheeks with both of your hands, kissing his lips passionately, before pulling away with a dazed smile.

chris simply couldn’t keep still, he was way too giddy because he has captured that moment on video.

“oh my god, you’re such a goof,” he laughed, his cheeks burning a reddish color as he stopped the video to lean forward, making you open your eyes again as you felt him kneel on the bed right on top of you.

“what..?” you whispered, but before you got an answer, chris was attacking you with kisses again. on your forehead, lips, cheeks, neck, nose even.

he didn’t seem to want to pull away, firmly grabbing your jaw with one hand, the other grabbing your cheek, as the kiss gradually got more heated.

“i’m not having morning sex with you today. goodbye, kind sir,” you giggled, now fully awake as you turned your body away from him, forgetting he was on top of you.

“uh, no?” chris scoffed with a grin, leaning down to kiss you again.

the rest is.. history. but chris kept that video, and oh boy, how many times he would rewatch it.

1 time nick recorded you ࿔*:･

you were currently spending the weekend at a hotel in texas with the triplets. they were going to spend the next few days filming a video with sam and colby, and chris had begged you to go with them, because apparently he needed you to hold his hands while they filmed the spooky content in a haunted hotel.

both you and chris were fast asleep in your shared bed, matt still sleeping in the one a little further in the hotel room.

nick though, was awake, and recently he had grown more familiar with chris’s fun and games, so he decided it would be funny to tease the both of you a little.

“y/n. chris. do you want a sip?” nick asked, waving a bottle of lemonade in front of your heads, recording you and chris in bed.

chris was spooning you, arms wrapped around your waist as you slept. during the night he always found ways to pull you closer, even though you weren’t sure that was possible.

“do you want a sip or not?” nick kept going, hiding his laughter as you both started shifting around. 

eventually, chris opened his eyes to see what was going on, still too tired to process anything.

chris’s shifting from behind made you more conscious, opening your eyes to see a bottle of lemonade in front of you, a camera facing you just a few inches behind it.

“hm?” you hum, closing one of your eyes due to the light. “do you want a sip?” nick giggled, still waving the bottle in front of you as he shoved the camera up your faces.

“of what, nick?” chris asked, annoyance evident in his voice, being able to tell even from your very tired state. “it’s like, a lemonade,” nick whispered, dangling the bottle in front of face, nearly hitting your nose.

“are you fucking stupid?” chris grumbles, pulling you in a little tighter, grabbing the cover to pull it up to your noses. immediately, you closed your eyes again, turning around so you were facing chris’s chest.

“you guys are so boring, what the fuck.” nick rolled his eyes, still recording the both of you as you flipped him off, signaling to leave you alone to sleep.

nick decided to add that video to the weekly friday photodump. a few weeks later, your entire for you page was filled with edits, comments, clips, of you and chris. you didn’t really expect it because you had practically forgotten about it since you were so tired when all of it went down.

chris seemed to enjoy it thoroughly.

a/n: hello again🌝 this is rlly rushed, sorry😞

overall, i’m sorry for the inactivity. i’ve been to meetings, school is taking up all my time, plus exams are on their way. so so sorry!!!💞💞

taglist: @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lillies @toriinie @cupidzsq @lacysturniolo @iluvmattyb @ratatioulle @emma4eva @riasturns @sstvrnioloo @sweetbabydoe @elliewrites1 @its-jennarose @abbypost @chrisstopherfilmed @sturniolossss @ducksturniolo @junnniiieee07 @klaus223492 @urfavvev3lyn @vschrissturn @cicimayx @keerahsturn @sturniolololover @domaniquessidehoe @sturniolossss @orangelala @sturnioloslvtt@gwenloremain@k-l-a-w-s @pearlzier @pjmpcyy @mbsbaby

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff

[elenalolls]

Matt (or chris) fic where the reader is like sooo distant that matt (or Chris) become desperate to know what's wrong? Like to the point where he's begging her.

"Please. I NEED to know what's wrong so I can fix it."

PLS 🤭🤭

I’ll Always Be There For You – (M.S.)

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo x Fem!Reader

Summary: When you begin to face problems, you distance yourself from the one person you know you could go to and he notices.

Word Count: 670+

Warning/s — OOC idk help / Nothing (???)

A/N: I dont think I followed this request fully soz, WHERE HES BEGGINGGG OH SO UR SICK.

You had no intention of putting up a wall between you and Matt. It didn’t serve any purposes and you knew that. You also knew talking about what was going on would help in a way. So why were you suddenly doing things different?

You weren’t sure yourself.

And you had thought you were doing a subtle job at doing so, until you apparently weren’t when you received a text saying ‘Unlock your door. Be there in fifteen, let’s talk about you.’

‘Let’s talk about you’, let’s! Or, we can talk about how many… insults were thrown at you a day, ultimately bringing your mood down for over a week. Just for being in a relationship with your boyfriend.

Upon reading that message, your eyebrows furrowed. You wanted to tell him no, that you weren’t able to hang out or talk. But as you reevaluated his message, you realized he had sent it almost ten minutes ago, earning a groan. You ran a hand through your hair as you slipped on your shoes. Quickly making your way into your living room and towards the front door, refraining from, yet again, letting out a noise of frustration when you heard a car, his car, pull into your driveway.

Accepting your defeat, you unlocked and opened the front door. Crossing your arms over your chest, waiting for him.

When his figure appears from around the corner, you still. “Hi,” you manage to say, your voice cracking in the process. Well! “I don’t know if I can talk for long, what happened—”

“Are you okay?” Matt interjected, his tone stern, completely ignoring what you had just said.

“I— What?” You stammered, tilting your head. “I’m fine, are you okay?”

“Don’t lie to me.” Quickly adding, “Please.”

As you locked eyes with him, you could sense his concern, and it triggered a pang of guilt within you. You’ve had this discussion before, coming up with a solution that did work for a while, until it didn’t. And as if he could see right through you, he spoke once more. “You can tell me, Y/N. Anything. You know that.”

Your shoulders slumped, “I know.”

“Then what’s wrong,” He softly spoke, gently grasping both your hands. Slowly guiding you backwards, allowing the two of you to enter your house. Releasing your hands momentarily, he turned around and securely shut the door, locking it.

As you continue to remain silent, he lowers his head so he’s eye-to-eye with you, his hands moving to your shoulders, “Please. I need to know in order to help, Y/N. Let me help you.”

Reluctantly, you give in. “If you say I’m being overdramatic—”

He chuckles, rolling his eyes. “I won’t, of course I won’t. You know I won’t.”

“Right,” you murmur, “I know I said I wouldn’t check my comments on anything, but I was curious. I saw what was being said about me, and it just, I don’t know.”

Matt’s expression softens even more (if possible), “You should’ve told me. I could’ve said something.”

You looked down, causing your hair to cascade over your shoulder. Seeing this, he raised his hand and gently tucked some of your hair behind your ear. With his hand now on your cheek, you fought the temptation to lean into his touch as you uttered your next words. “You have already and clearly, it didn’t matter. Listen, it’s fine, I’m fine. Like I said, it just put me in a mood for a couple days.”

“It’s not, though.” The boy mumbled, holding your gaze. “You shouldn’t be criticized for being with me, and I’m sorry. I’ll talk with Nick and Chris about it, we can say something about it again, yeah?”

You allowed a smile to slowly make its way onto you face, “Okay, yeah.”

As he embraces you, his hands gently encircle your waist, drawing you closer. Your arms instinctively find their place around his neck. “Do you want to stay? We can watch a movie or something.”

“I thought you said you couldn’t talk for long,” he muttered against your neck, laughing as you pulled away soon after. “I’m kidding, yes.”

DT(s) — @bellelovesmen, @agirlsrage ! ౨ৎ

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x fem!reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x y/n #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo fluff #fem!reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets fanfic #sturniolo triplets matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo one shot #jilval #godspeed - frank ocean

[kennedyalike]

ok this is so depraved but some noncon w manipulative leon x bsf reader or roommate reader where he for somewhat reason has to practice tying rope and convinces her to let him practice on her and assures her he wont do anything else but once he gets her tied up he undresses her and takes pics of her as blackmail and does whatever he wants to her

rope bunny

leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags: posessive!leon, he’s kinda yandere tbh, p in v sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, slight overstimulation, rough sex, manhandling, noncon, dubcon, ropes, bdsm, dom!leon, praise kink, praising, smut, rope kink, filming, explicit photograpghy, leon is a massive pervert, slight size kink

summary: leon asks for your help with a task from the force but it turns into something else~

word count: 4.2k

to anon: hii! im sorry i took so long with this but i hope you like it! i really like this idea and tbh i love me some noncon leon😩 i added a happy ending but idk if this is weird LMAOOO

He dotes on you everyday, without you ever even noticing. Oh, how you’re so oblivious and innocent. He just wants to have you all to himself. Just to steal you away from the whole world, to take care of you and finally make you realize what you’re missing out on.

You weren’t exactly oblivious, you just didn’t pay it any mind, deciding to tease him further. Being roommates with Leon for almost a year now, you knew him pretty well. Both of you attending the police academy, you figured a roommate wouldn’t hurt. He was sweet, brave, corny, a little awkward but so cute.

Leon was a good friend to you, helping you out, keeping the place clean, he was a true gentleman. For what you knew, of course. In all honesty, Leon was the oblivious one here. You noticed every time his eyes slowly gazed somewhere they weren’t supposed to. His stare felt like it was going to eat you alive one day.

Whenever you’re doing something around the house, he quietly observes all of your movements, eyes maybe focusing on the curve of your ass, or maybe the way your tits bounce when your arms push them together. He can’t help himself, you’re just so gorgeous and he swears he can’t keep his hands to himself any longer.

Maybe you even liked his gaze, doing small things on purpose. Wearing short skirts at home, bending over in front of him or wearing some tops that revealed yiur cleavage. Leon loved it all, but he was starting to grow impatient with your little games that he didn’t even know you were playing. You knew he liked you, but he didn’t know you liked him too. Being too focused on you and his training, he didn’t even notice the way you practically begged for his attention.

”What are you doing?” You asked with a giggle as you try to lighten up the mood. Leon looks up at you and shrugs. ”Just…looking over these photos.” He answers quietly, his deep voice grumbling a little bit. His hand is resting on his jaw as he leans himself on the table that was filled with documents, probably something from the academy.

You frown slightly from his answer before you fall silent too. As Leon focuses his stare on the papers in front of him, you focus yours on him. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up and the fabric was resting just so his forearms were visible. His calloused hands were nibbling the paper's edge as his veins become more visible. You can’t look away, mind completely taking you away while you rest against the kitchen counter.

A low groan erupts from the man in front of you and you can’t stop your mind from going to that usual place. Wondering what would happen if you were brave enough to start something. How his hands would caress your body just like you both wished. You sigh slowly as you slightly shake your head, disowning the thoughts. If Leon only knew that you dreamed of him even when awake.

”I’m gonna take a small nap, wake me up at like…6pm.”

Leon huffed at the small pause in your sentence as you retracted to your room. He only nodded in response. He began thinking, in quietness after hearing small giggles and sounds of music come from your room. After a while, there was only silence. You had fallen asleep. He smirks to himself but quickly reassures himself he wouldn’t do anything like that.

He spends time pondering over his wants, no, his needs. He needs you and he can’t wait any longer. Leon decides he’s not going to let you say otherwise. He goes into his room momentarily to gather some rope. (He totally didn’t buy it just for the instance) He knocks on your door and slowly his hand twists the knob as he lets himself in your room.

Your curtains are closed and you’re still asleep, wrapped in blankets. He hovers above you and stares into your face. How beautiful, he thinks to himself. He owns you. He’s not going to let anyone else have you, ever. He hides the rope behind his back before his arm reaches out for your shoulder, gently stirring you awake from your previous slumber. With a whine, you start to flutter your eyes open.

Your room is dimly lit and in all your sleepiness, your eyes make out Leon’s figure in front of you. He sits on your bed slowly. ”Wake up, sweetheart.” The nickname would make you nervous and a blushly mess if you weren’t so tired still. You slowly sit up, lifting the blanket from your body as it pools around your lap. Now fully sat, you fix your hair and look at Leon with gentle eyes. ”Thanks for waking me up, Leon.”

”No problem, I have a question though…” He starts, and you can hear the unsureness in his voice as he nudges himself closer to you. A blush creeps on your face as you realize he’s never been this close to you before, at least not in your bed. ”Yeah?” You ask shyly as you pull the blanket up slightly, covering the skimpy crop top you wore. He looks away for a second before continuing. ”The professor actually gave me something interesting to work on, I was wondering if you’d help me out a little?” His blue eyes now stare straight into yours as you fiddle with the blanket edge. Eagerly, you nod immediately. ”Yes, what is it?”

He smirks a little bit, chuckles and reveals the rope from behind his back. A small inaudible gasp leaves your mouth and you look away with a slight flush on your cheeks. ”He said we need to practice tying something up, escaping being tied and all that.” He explained as he slowly started opening the rope from its package. You stare quietly at his big hands that were fiddling with the rope. Completely on board if you get to play around with ropes with him. ”Yeah? Do you need my help with some of this?” You ask shyly as he smirks again.

”Yeah. Let me try one thing.” Now completely awake and shaken with excitement as Leon launches slowly towards you. His actions take you by surprise and nervousness engulfs you as his cold hand slips under the blanket and grabs your wrist. ”Leon- I-I thought-” You began speaking unsurely as he grabbed both of your wrists, bringing them up to your chest. ”Shh, I’m not gonna do anything to you, just practicin’, sweetie.” His deep voice coos and you allow yourself to relax in his hold, reminding yourself that he’s just practicing.

”Just lay back a little.” He instructs you and you obey him nonetheless of your nervousness. Your body hits the soft bed behind you as you settle down and bring your arms up. Leon grips both of your wrists together with one hand, his hands are cold and slender as he pins yours atop your head. He brings the rope and wraps it around your wrists, tying them together very tightly. A small whine leaves your mouth as you close your eyes momentarily. ”Too tight?” He asks.

”No, it’s fine. Let me show you my skills of escaping these.” You joke to him with a small bubbly laugh. He scoffs under his breath and glances back at you. ”We’ll see about that one.” He says unamusedly as he tightens the rope and ties your wrists to the bed. You feel a light stretch on your arms as he ties them. His gaze feels hot, feels like it’s going to burn you alive soon. Leon’s hands slowly move from your arms, to your waist.

His eyes never leave your body, he doesn’t miss the way your back arches into his touch, letting his hands wander. His fingertips slowly graze around your chest, abdomen and your thighs. He examines your face closely, a red blush on your face that he wouldn’t miss usually, but with the dim light of your bedroom it goes unnoticed. Your back arches and you moan slightly when his strong hand caresses your thigh. ”Leon..?” You ask confusedly as you tighten your thighs together, trapping his hand between them. ”You like this?”

He calls out to you mockingly as he inches his fingertips towards your panties. The blanket long gone as his other arm completly reveals your body to him. A small crop top and panties on. Gosh. You look so cute, he wishes he could eat you alive. Your legs twitch and you gasp in surprise as his hand cups your pussy through your panties. ”Maybe I’ll leave you tied up forever if it means I can do this all day.” He mumbles to himself as he smirks while slowly rubbing your clit through your already dampened panties. Your thighs close even tighter as you squirm. ”Leon? W-what are you doing?”

”Shh, just relax for me, okay?” He calls out again as his hands grip your thighs, forcing them apart, revealing your crotch to him. You gasp again and start moving around, not liking the forcefulness. His grip only tightens as he holds you down on the bed, bringing another piece of the rope around your ankles, trying them together as you helplessly squirm under the bigger man.

”Leon, I’m uncomfortable..M-Maybe we should practice some other time..!” You desperatly request as he pulls the rope and ties it under the bed. You’re now completely trapped and at his mercy. ”Now, try and get out of those.” He says as he stands up, backing away from the bed to take a look at you. So pretty. Sprawled out on the bed in your nap clothes as desperate little whines leave your mouth when you try to escape this predicament.

You tug, pull, whine and squirm around for what feels like eternity. Your croptop already ridden up from your movements, exposing your soft belly to Leon’s hungry eyes that are enjoying the show infront of him. You almost think he’s cruel and that he’s doing this to embarrass you. Your limbs give out and you look at him with angry eyes, the sweat from your earlier nap clanking your thighs together as you finally give out, relaxing all of your body. ”Okay. You win. I can’t get out of these. Please, help me.” You quietly say as you accept defeat, looking at him with an annoyed look.

He only smirks and laughs a little bit, getting closer to you. ”Hmm…I quite like having you like this…” He starts as his hands grab your waist again, slowly teasing the fabric of your croptops edge as he pulls it up. Your breath hitches and you feel your muscles tensing again. ”Leon, take these out. It’s not funny.” You try once again.

He stops his movements and looks into your eyes, before getting on top of you on the bed. You squirm again as he climbs atop and pins you down with his bodyweight. The lighting extorts and you can see the way his biceps twitch as he holds himself above you. Leon’s blonde locks fluffy and messed up as he brings himself closer to your face. ”Oh sweetheart, I’ll never let you go. You’re mine, finally.” Before he allows you to even react, his hand is already gripping at your chin and neck, forcing you into a sloppy kiss with him.

His lips are practically devouring your face as he holds you tighter. To his surprise, you kiss him back and moan into the kiss. He leaves you wanting for more as he pulls his mouth from yours and lowers himself to your neck, biting, kissing and sucking little red marks on your collarbones. His hot breath on your neck sent shivers down your spine and you feel a heat forming between your legs. You want him as bad as he wants you. And you don’t want to accept it.

Your quiet moans that you try to silence by turning your head to the side don’t go unnoticed by Leon as he grips your chin again. ”Let me hear how much you love this, baby.” He growls as he sucks on the sensitive skin behind your ear. A lustful moan erupts from you and you’re even shocked at yourself as you notice the way you’re rubbing your thighs together. ”Good girl, just like that. Don’t fight it.”

He continues kissing your neck, sometimes pulling you into a heated kiss again. (Which you returned, every time) ”Leon..! Please, untie me.” You whisper in between kisses. ”Try harder.” He mocks you again and pulls back from you, still on top of you, his finger hooks around the strap of your croptop, slowly pulling it down from your shoulder, exposing more and more by the mere second. You nervously look at him with fear and desperateness in your eyes. Your breathing, heavier by the second was unstable as small tears start forming on your waterline.

”Leon, please..” You sob as he slowly undresses you, pulling your croptop over your head, exposing your bare chest to him. Nipples already hard from the previous endeavours, his both hands grab your tits, squeezing them and playing around with your nipples. His gaze is like a hypnosis, stuck on your tits as he does as he pleases, groping you against your will. Instead of screaming, you arch into his touch and moan at the sensation when his mouth connects with the skin of your areola.

”Please-” Your breath hitches as a tear falls down your cheek when he pinches your nipples, sucking and kissing all over your body. You’re not even sure what you’re begging for anymore and neither is Leon. You hear him chuckle as he pulls back shortly, looking over at you before extending his hand to his pocket. You look at him in complete silence, tears still wetting your cheeks as you see him pull out his phone. ”Leon.. what are- No!” You start wiggling desperately and you can’t belive the smirk on Leon’s face.

”Pose a little, this is for me only, darling. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything if you behave for me.” He holds you in place with his other arm while scrolling on his phone. His hand grabs at your tit again as you hear the faint sound of a recording going on. ”Please…don’t” You beg with teary eyes as he films himself groping at you, he moves the camera to your face. ”Don’t cry beatiful, tell me how much you like it.” He mocks you and amidst all the feelings that were roaming your mind block out the feeling of his hand sneaking between your thighs. Another tear falls down your cheek as you open your eyes, looking up at his phone and that devious smirk plastered on his face. You feel embarrased and humiliated, but for some reason, it’s lighting a fire inside of you that you can’t shut down.

You feel his rough hand cup your pussy and you moan loudly. His smirk grows even more at your lewd sound as he slips his fingers in from the side. Two long fingers now rubbing your wet clit as you try to close your legs tighter. ”Come on, let it all out.” He presses a kiss on to your forehead as he slips his middle finger in your wet, needy hole. Another loud moan leaves your mouth and you unnoticeably start grinding into his hand, desperate for more as you look at Leon’s phone through teary eyes. It’s turning you on and he knows it. He nods at you and looks at you in the eyes as he shuts his phone off, drops it on the floor and practically attacks your lips. You immedietly kiss him back, no question. ”M’ sorry, my sweet baby.” He mumbles between the hungry kisses. You want to caress his cheeks and wrap your arms around his shoulders. You writhe as you try to pull your arms out of the rope.

”Leon, untie me. I want yo-” He shushed your begs with a kiss, soft lips entertwining roughly as his hands explore your body again. He’s pumping his middle finger in and out of your pussy with a slow rhythm. Leon quickly latches on to your neck again, sucking more crimson marks as he slips in another finger. His movements are going faster as his index finger joins in on the fun. The wet, tight walls of your pussy squeezing around his digits are making him go crazy. He was already hard as fuck in his pants as he grinded himself to your side.

”Soon, baby. Let me have a taste first..” He mumbles again, almost inaudibly as he lowers his kisses down to the soft skin of your belly. His big hands are still cold to the touch as he retracts his fingers from your pussy. You moan at the loss of contact as you look down at him, trying to ground yourself between all of these feelings. His hands grab your hips tightly and he begins teasing your panties down your legs. You wiggle your hips a little in an attempt to get him to undress you faster. He backs away and in a swift movement he pulls his shirt over his head, exposing his hard trained abs to you. Your eyes now explore his body, thirsting over his muscular chest and huge biceps, he smirks and lowers his face to your pussy again.

Before he teases your panties fully off, he places a soft kiss on your clit through the damp fabric. You moan quietly as he pulls your panties down to your ankles and grabs your thighs, nudging them apart so roughly that it would for sure leave a bruised mark on your inner thighs. He’s like a hungry animal that hasn’t eaten in weeks and you feel like his prey, just a little thing forced into submission as you writhe under him. His warm tongue latches onto your clit as he sucks, kisses and licks between your folds, moving to give attention to your clit as his other hand retracts from your thighs and pushes two fingers into your hole.

You’re practically screaming, crying and moaning at the same time as you buck your hips into his face. Leon’s slippery tongue, lapping at your folds and pleasuring your clit feels like almost too much, you’re so close to exploding and you desperatly try to close your thighs. ”Mm-mm. None of that.” He hums as his hand parts your thighs again and the vibrations from his sound of unapproval send immense pleasure your way and you moan loudly. ”Oh, Leon! I-I’m gonna cum!” You moan his name in a continuing chant as he buries his face into your pussy, tasting all of your juices as you grind down.

He was so turned on by you and probably could come undone from just lapping at your pussy all day. He sucks on your clit as you gasp loudly and your legs shake a bit. He slows his movements down, brings his arms under your thighs to support your shaking for as he helps you though your orgasm with a gentle touch. He might’ve tied you up against your will, but he’s not a total asshole.

The orgasm washes over you slowly and your body shakes with pleasure as you moan his name quietly, almost sounding like you’re crying. (You are.) Your body sets down and you feel Leon untying your ankles. ”Relax, baby.” He coos as you start moving your legs slowly. You do as he says. He lifts himself back on top of you and meets your gaze. ”Kiss me, please.” You whine and he chuckles but obliges nevertheless. He kisses you again, this time more passionetly and lovingly as his hands grope at your tits again before slowly moving up, beginning to untie your hands. Only sounds from the connection of your mouths erupt as he unties you fully. Your hands fall to your sides tiredly as Leon’s lips move to your neck again.

He doesn’t expect you to yank away from him, or slap him, or resist at all, and he’s right. Your arms slowly wrap themselves around his neck and your hand caresses his cheek. You feel his strong jaw clenching under your palm as he joins you in a kiss again. His erection rubbing at your core through his pants. Oh he’s so sure his pants have a wet spot from all the precum his tip has leaked. He humps himself on your side. ”Leon…fuck me, please.” You shyly mumble to him as you move your hands to start unbuckling his belt. ”Fuck, I knew I’d have you begging. Good girl.” You moan at his praise and his hands move to your aid, he retracts from you for a second to pull his pants down, taking his briefs at the same time.

This time, you’re the one that’s staring at him hungrily as his big cock bursts free from its confinements and rests against his abdomen. So incredebly hard that it almost slaps against the skin of his lower stomach. He’s long but kind of girthy. Pale but the tip is a flushed tone. Leon sets himself on top of you again and his hands grip at your waist. ”Fuck, need to fuck you so bad.” He whines as he readjusts your position while stroking himself up and down a few times.

You don’t bother speaking, you just whimper as he lines the tip of his cock on your pussy. He looks down at your pussy that’s begging for his dick and he feels like he’s seen heaven. He slides his lenght along your folds, gathering the slick as he nudges his tip on your still sensitive clit. You gasp from the sensation and attempt to close your thighs before Leon spreads them further apart. ”How am I gonna fuck you if you close your legs on me, sweet baby?” He teases as he starts pushing himself into you.

A low groan and a whimper leaves his mouth as he humps into you. ”Ah! S’ big…Leon…” You moan while clicking your hips together when he starts banging into you at a rough speed. Your hands intertwine behind his neck as you pull him into a sloppy kiss. Both taking breaths and moaning into each others ears, the burning sensation turns into immense pleasure as he bullies his cock deeper into your hole. ”Fuck… Ah-” Leon whimpers and you can only moan in response as he lifts your legs higher, to your chest to give himself a new, deeper angle to fuck into you.

His cock is stretching you out and his hands are everywhere. Sometimes his finger is rubbing slow circles on your still sensitive clit, pushing you over the edge. Then his hands grip strongly at your waist, holding you in place while he ruthlessly ruts into you. Then his hands are groping your ass, tightly pulling your hips to connect his as you place sloppy kisses to his neck, pulling him closer to yourself while moaning.

Leon grabs at your side and nudges you to turn over on your stomach. ”Gon’ fuck you so hard.” He groans into your ear as your body complies in the heat of the moment. You turn to lay on your stomach, hands quickly supporting yourself as Leon lifts your hips up, already rutting back into you. You moan loudly and your hands give out. Leon is fucking you so hard your face is mushed against the pillow and you try to to desperately lift your hips up for him. ”So good, so fucking good, baby.” He praises and readjusts his hands under your hips, holding you up. His cold palm moves from the front to rub circles on your clit. ”Leon! M’ close!” You moan into the pillow while your arms settle under yourself, supporting your weight as you feel your second orgasm around the corner.

His cold palm presses on your lower stomach, he smirks when he feels himself pounding so deep into you. ”Fuck baby, tell me you want it-” He groans as his thrusts turn sloppier by the second. ”I want it so bad! I want you-! Please! Cum inside me, please!” You whimper almost inaudibly, voice hoarse from all the efforts. He ruts into you a few more sloppy thrusts before he feels your pussy walls sucking him in, clenching as your body goes limp and your orgasm takes over you. He pushes himself deep in you and releases his load. You both moan in union as you feel his hot cum fill your insides. He sighs and lets your body rest on the bed as he plops down next to you.

After catching your breath, you turn to him and shyly caress his cheek. He chuckles and pulls you ontop of him, hugging you. ”Don’t worry baby.” He presses a gentle kiss on top of your forehead and you hug him tighter. It was all settled. You were his and you would let him ruin you completely. He wouldn’t do that of course, he just likes it a little rough. ”Soo….you’re gonna finally make me your girlfriend?” You giggle. He scoffs and holds you tighter. ”Yes.”

#leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy smut #re4 leon #leon kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil 4 #leon smut #resident evil leon #smut #resident evil 2

[harryspet]

oki so content warningish? ignore if u want ofc! the link is to a girl taking two fingers in her mouth/ finger sucking but not really? like the guy kinda just shoving them idk :<?

https://www.tumblr.com/solvsol/736569456856301568?source=share

just a request of mean/ dark rafe with this sorta thing? ofc ignore if ur uncomfortable! lmk if u want me to specify more

[warnings] dark!rafe x reader, NONCON, rough oral sex, face f*cking, mouth fingering, saliva, gagging ... etc. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: Rafe would definitely do this, and he's definitely a head pusher when it comes to receiving oral! i barely edited this sorry :)

You drank too much, everything happened too quickly, and now your first time with Rafe wouldn't happen in the way that you imagined. You were so grateful for the attention he was giving you at the bonfire that you accepted every red solo cup he passed to you. You hurried and finished each drink every time he said, "Awe, I thought you could keep up with me, Y/N? You don't want to have fun?"

Now you were in the back of his truck, sloppily kissing in the confined space. Rafe's hands were everywhere, but he paid close attention to your breasts, grabbing them in his large hands and rubbing his thumb over your nipples. When your lips parted to moan, he just shoved his tongue deeper into your mouth. You couldn't breathe and that only added to your dizziness.

You pushed at his shoulders and realized how solid he was, how much naturally stronger he was than you. Pressed against the back door, Rafe pushed your legs apart, "W-Wait," You struggled to say. You repeated the word until your talking began to interrupt Rafe's ability to kiss you.

"What?" Even in the darkness of the car, you saw Rafe's empty, expecting expression, “You can’t say no now; I’m already hard.”

“No, that’s not – I mean,” You did want him to stop but the look in his eyes and the fact that he hadn’t pulled any further away from you made you realize that wasn’t an option, “Can we – Can we go slower?”

Rafe took in a breath, almost seeming frustrated. He looked you over, your top pulled low and your hard nipples poking through your shirt, “Shit,” Rafe whispered, sitting back in his seat. Shaky hands ran through his dark blonde hair, and his right leg bounced as he thought something over. He didn’t think for too long before reaching down to undo his belt. His bulge was already noticeable, too; his khakis were leaving nothing to the imagination, but you couldn’t help how your eyes widened when he fully pulled himself out of his briefs, “You did this to me, you know. You can use your mouth. Take care of me.”

You already knew this was the better idea, and you nodded your head. Another time, you’d both be sober and could have a romantic time. In a bed, preferably, after Rafe asked you to be his girlfriend. 

He reached and grabbed your wrist, pulling you over to the other side of the truck. You got on your knees, wrapping your dominant hand around his base, feeling exactly how hard he was. Unexpectedly, Rafe grabbed ahold of the back of your hair, forcing your face down. You did what you thought you should do, stroking his base while lubricating the tip. You swirled your tongue around, tasting him before you took more of him in your mouth. 

Rafe’s hand was lifting up your skirt, roughly grabbing your ass, as he slowly pushed your head further down. You started to gag, taking more of him in than was comfortable, but Rafe only smacked your ass, not allowing you to come up for air. Soon you were panicking, pushing at his thighs until he let you come up for air. You pulled away, tears fell, and you coughed as you tried to catch your breath. 

“Have you ever done this before? You’re already gagging, and I’m only halfway inside your mouth.” You looked at him through blurry eyes. 

“That-That hurt, Rafe” You spoke hoarsely. 

“Hey, hey,” He grabbed ahold of your face, pulling your face closer to his, “You need more practice. You won’t learn how to take my dick any other way. C’mere.”

Again, his grip was tight on your hair. This time, he pushed his pointer and middle finger into your mouth. Your wide eyes looking at him made him smile, although there was still an emptiness behind his eyes. Slowly, he pushed his fingers in and out of your mouth, his gold ring touching your lips. Every time you gagged, he shushed you and often would just shove his fingers further, “You’re not going to throw up, don’t be so scared,” He said, “You can do it; I know you can, fucking slut.”

Your eyes started to close, but he snapped at you, “Watch me. This is my mouth now. I can do whatever I want, right?”

You couldn’t respond as he pushed his fingers deeper. When he could push his fingers deep, and you didn’t gag, he stopped, “There you go,” Rafe pulled his fingers from your mouth, wiping the saliva all over your cheeks before he pinched your cheeks within his hand, “I knew you could do it, Y/N.” 

Tears were falling from embarrassment, and you wanted to hyperventilate, but Rafe bent you back over his lap moments later.

+

send dark!alpha!rafe concepts/ideas if you have them :)

#dark fic #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x black!reader #rafe cameron drabble #anon ask

[calumcxke]

LESSON LEARNED

soobin x fem reader

word count: 1.1k

summary: soobin was in a clingy mood, which usually meant a lot of kisses. but with neither of you being able to swim, it went south pretty quickly.

warnings: kissing?, suggestive, exhibitionism in the way they’re making out in front of the other guys??, they’re just rlly in love with each other idk

notes: i wrote this aug 2022 and i’m barley posting it now😭 trying to post more often but i srsly have the worst writers block rn

🎵: telepatía - kali uchis

it sounds like a song u would play at the pool to me,, tell me u get it

your shirt clung to your skin as you peeled it off slowly, wringing all the water out before putting it on the edge of the pool. with all the splashing it was sure to be drenched by the time you guys got out, but you were really too lazy to get out and walk all the way over to the table.

yeonjun cannonballed into the water and the splash got all over you, and the shirt you had just wrung out. you ended up just chucking it at the table, watching as it hit the side and instead splat onto the pavement.

hands wrapped themselves around your waist from behind, a head pressing into the nook on your shoulder. you smiled and leaned yourself closer to soobin, turning your head as much as you could to try and see him better, although it was hard in this position.

“hm?”, you whispered, bringing a hand up to play with his hair as he nodded and started waddling away from the area you guys were at so you were a bit deeper in the pool.

your mind went blank, soobin was going pretty far out, and neither of you could swim. of course the other four boys were here but you still got scared going into deep water, scared something bad would somehow happen. soobins strong arms around your waist should’ve made you feel content, but knowing he can’t swim… it really wasn’t a comfort.

“soobin.”

he hummed in response against your neck, waiting for your reply.

you were getting so deep that standing on your tippy toes wasn’t enough to keep your nose above water.

you caved and grabbed onto the railing, pulling yourself up and taking breaths as soobin stood behind you, arms wrapped more around your thighs now.

“how deep were you planning on going?”, you asked, still holding onto the railing as you let yourself slowly move back down.

he smiled, hands moving up to your waist to turn you around, pulling your body until your front was flush with his.

“just a bit further, put your hands around my shoulders.”

you stared at him for a few seconds before deciding to listen, wrapping your arms around his neck as soobin moved his hands up to the railing and started shuffling further into the pool, waiting until he feet couldn’t touch the bottom anymore to finally stop moving.

“this good?” he asked quietly, adjusting his arms so he was more comfortable, and you watched as his arms flexed as he moved. you started to realize just how much of an effect soobin in a pool had on you.

his hair was wet, and some droplets were dripping down his face, his chest was wet and you caught yourself staring, finally pulling yourself out of the trance you had put yourself in, looking back at soobin’s face to see him with a waiting look on his face, that had a bit of smugness to it. you nodded slowly, swallowing the lump in your throat.

he hummed, smirk growing bigger, “you sure?”

“y- yeah.”

soobin laughed quietly, leaning in and pressing what you thought was a quick kiss to your lips. he pulled away and leaned back in just as quick, pressing his lips a bit harder into yours.

you were a bit thrown back, expecting him to pull away within a few seconds but he instead kept kissing you. you welcomed it of course, but you were thrown off because the other four were literally right behind you guys playing in the water, and what you two were doing wasn’t concealed at all.

when soobin started to deepen the kiss more your hand flew up, trying to point to the boys behind you, even though you were still kissing soobin back. your hand was flailing wildly and when it hit soobin’s hand, he grabbed your wrist, putting it back on his shoulder.

his hand moved to your chin, holding it in between his pointer and thumb, opening your jaw the tiniest bit so he could slip his tongue into your mouth, and the small whimper that left your mouth had soobin smiling against your lips.

his hand left your chin instead dipping down to your legs and pulling them to wrap around his waist, before moving back to the railing.

you knew the boys were watching, or talking about you and soobin, and you of course felt exposed, making out with soobin so openly in front of them, but the way that soobin was kissing you and the confidence he had right now that he never really had to do this in public was really making all your common sense fly out the window.

he finally pulled away, pulling your bottom lip away in the process, and you had to take a second to catch your breath and recollect yourself, which was shortly lived.

soobins head dipped down to your neck, starting to suck on a spot that had your head spinning and a moan almost leaving your mouth. it also had your hands instinctively detaching from around his neck and going into the water. you kinda forgot how deep you were.

your body fell quickly and your head was under in no time, your hands grabbing soobin’s shoulders again and you pulled yourself up quickly with a gasp, choking on the water that had gone up your nose and throat. soobin was quite literally the definition of the 😦 emoji, patting your back with one hand and shuffling into more shallow water with the other.

you were trying to recollect yourself from almost drowning, and from soobin’s lips all over yours right in front of the boys.

“you okay?”, you heard taehyun ask from your side, pushing your hair back and out of your face and helping soobin move to the stairs leading into the pool so you could sit.

“yeah *cough* yeah, i’m good.”, you inhaled sharply, blush heavy on your cheeks when you met eyes with soobin.

“good.”, soobin wrapped his hand around the back of your neck pulling your head closer to his and placing yet another kiss on your lips, albeit this time it was a short one, and you were grateful for that.

he stepped out of the pool, holding out his hand for you to join him, and he grabbed the towel he had set on the table, walking over and wrapping it around the both of you, once again enveloping your lips in a kiss, one that had you smiling into it, a small laugh leaving your lips.

you didn’t know what had gotten into soobin and where this boost of confidence had come from because he never showed this much affection to you around the boys, but you were definitely loving it.

“wanna go to the room?”, he whispered against your lips, pulling away to get your response.

“yeah, yes please.”

he smiled at you, unwrapping himself from the towel and letting you have it to yourself, opening the door to let you in first.

#choi soobin #txt soobin #soobin x reader #txt fluff #txt fanfic #txt fanfiction #txt imagines #txt oneshots #txt ff #soobin oneshot #soobin fanfic

[sinning-23]

To Breathe Underwater (Luffy x Mermaid!Reader)

Okay yall this is the first of many in a mermaid/siren series I decided to WRITE LIKE AN IDIOT LOL sorey I fell off and haven’t been active I feel like I’m going to crumble- like a strong breeze could take me outta this point.

Anyway I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: None

Water fills his lungs are he struggles against the still waters. This was the price to pay for his abilities. the ocean consuming him, weighing him down, pulling him into her cold embrace. It burns his nose and throat as he cough the last of his air into bubbles.

His eyes are begingin to close as he falls unconscious, flashes of light swirl around him. Though muffled from the water, he can hear what sounds like metal pieces clinking quietly. Warmth envelops him, arms wrapped around his body as he's pulled up.

What was this...Who was this. He forced his eyes open, the water making it a blurry sight but, it was definitely a who. And a very pretty who at that.

They were calm, eyes scanning his rapidly as her webbed fingers and iridescent hands twinkled in the light. She hold his face, his consciousness fading faster then ever, and with a single connection to lips she preaches air into him, swapping the water that filled with lungs for oxygen. Again and again and again, she breathes into him, slowly but surely swimming him up to the surface, to shore.

_____________

You can’t help but trace his face, the sun making his hair look shinier, and his face so much brighter. You try counting the freckles there, its seemingly impossible. He breaths slow, chest rising and falling and you trace the scar there. You’d never been this close to a human before....they're so delicate.

He coughs, the last remnants of water spilling from his lips as you gasp and flinch back. You can hear voices from afar but you don't move, far too worried about the human in front of you to care. You crawl back to him, pushing the wet hair from his face and cupping his cheeks after. He's missing something...

"Who are you?" His voice is raspy, yet concerned.

You shake your head, looking back to the water to see his hat floating. Bingo! You grab it, and set it over his face, leaning close to his ear before letting your name roll off your glossy lips.

He repeats it, a slow mantra of your name drips off his tongue as you slither back to the water.

"That was a mermaid! Luffy got saved by a mermaid!" Usopp gasps, pulling his captain up with a smile.

Of course, Luffy was still a bit delierous form the deamn near death experience, but he made a note to remember than name so he could properly thank the thing that saved his life.

You.

_6.5 months later_

Winter draws in and your tail was shed for a pair of limbs longer than your arms. It wasn't the first time you'd had this happen and it certainly would be the last. Every winter, a mermaid sheds their tail to seek warmth on land during the cold and snowy months. Then, in spring, when the first few flowers bloom and the tempurature rises, you return to sea.

Now, you were sitting in one of this villages many taverns, well, one of which mermaids like yourself have come for shelter for decades. The current owner had given you a nice room and some fresh clothes for the winter months and in return for giving you that you would provide entertainment.

So there you are, hair flowing over your shoulders, voice ringing sweetly across the space as customers, pirate or otherwise, indulge.

You hadn't realized that the table at the far left of the eatery had been occupied, and one of the guest simply couldn't tear his eyes away from you. You were so...familiar.

"Luffy you look like you’re burning holes through her, calm down. " Nami speaks, a smirk forming over he features seeing her Captains current state.

Luffy wasn’t very well versed in just etiquette but then again you didn’t really need that when you were a pirate. The content of his character was far more important than idk maybe not standing on a rich ladies table and requesting a boat from her.

Anyway, he snaps his gaze away from you and back to Nami. There you were, glittering under this mellow spotlight as your voice carried over sweet, diabetes inducing melodies and his heart can’t help but squeeze.

You’d saved his life, that’s something he’ll never let go, somehow feeling a pinch in debt to you. His eyes trail from the top of your head to the shoes on your feet. Usopp might have an answer for that….

“I swear she was a mermaid when she saved me. Usopp, you know a lot about those things, why is it that she has legs now?” He questions, leaning forward with a wide smile.

The man in question stammers for a moment trying to find the words but before he can even get some outlandish explanation out, the waitress just so happened to cut in.

“This has been a rest spot for mermaid for years. They get legs in the winter to stay warm on land among the people. Then, in spring, they return to sea, we’ll if they do choose. The longer they stay on land, the harder it is to go back to their tails.” She explains, setting down drinks, tucking the tray under her arm.

“Some merfolk opt to stay human and they just, unadapt I suppose. They lose their tails forever.”

Luffy draws back to the stage to realize you’re not there and a panic shoots through him. He grabs the waitresses arm, wondering where you’d gone and she only points to an empty staircase. That’s all it takes for him to jump out his seat and leave his crew behind. He needed to see you. He needed to hear your voice. Feel your hands over his face, tracing his freckles and over his lips.

He wanted his heart to feel as if it somehow spring out his chest when you spoke. Is this what a crush feels like???? He did it know anything about you accept that you’d been kind enough to save him, you were a mermaid, and god were you absolutely beautiful. But, he found himself wanting to know you, and when he wants something, he’s determined to get it.

The light creeking of your door makes you flinch but you turn to see that same man you'd though tof nonstop for the past 6 months. The silence is deafening, your heartbeat ringing n your ears and his does the same.

You swallow dryly, trying to think of something to say but...what is there to say? He steps in, pausing for a moment to search your eyes for protest, but you only encourage it with a step forward.

"You look different when you’re not drowning." You joke poorly, seeing him slile.

"So do you when im not busy trying to breathe underwater.” He laughs, seeing you smile in response.

#x reader #one piece #one piece luffy #monkey d. luffy #straw hat luffy #one piece netflix #one piece live adaptation #siren #reader is a mermaid

[ronearoundblindly]

Hideout (4.2)

touch-starved!Nomad Steve Rogers x motel employee!Reader

Horny Teen, part two (see previous or series)

Summary: A late-summer heat wave hits you and Steve hard.

Warnings for smut (kinda unprotected sex, momentarily--guess that's dubcon to be safe--fingering, lots of foreplay things and dirty talk but Steve can't actually talk dirty, so...hot talk? IDK, gang, I 'bout died writing this. Prepare thy loins, babes). MINORS DNI. There is plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this series is not for you! WC 3.1k

A/N: This part contains a cannibalized version of the original idea for this series, but since we've developed differently to this point, it is very different.

He calls ahead. For the first time in a year of visiting, he calls ahead and knows you aren’t working the night he’ll be here.

You work in the garden as long as you can stand before hopping in a cool shower. You aren’t even wrapped in a towel when the trill of your room phone—extension 14, as Steve now knows it—blares through multiple closed doors.

He’s checked-in, and in Room Two, but no pressure, if you want, if you don’t have plans, he’s here. It is the most adorable and awkwardest conversation of all time. It also never gets old to hear him scramble for the simplest of sentiments.

Translation: I’m excited to see you.

Your heart soars then immediately stalls in the stifling weather.

“I’ll be down in a few minutes,” you chuckle.

Of course, he opens his arms for a bear hug the instant the door labeled ‘2’ swings wide. Steve has fewer troubles with platonic affection when alone, that’s for sure, but who could blame him? You’re elated he’s here under any circumstances.

Record-setting heat this late in the summer has left all the AC units taxed to the brink, running constantly, and even with the in-room thermostat set stupidly low, a tank top and shorts is too much.

This means another first: both of you, in bed, naked.

Nothing’s happened, mind, because the swelter of the day zapped energy out of every creature for miles and miles around. The ice machine can’t keep up with eight rooms and your family needing relief from the blaze. From the bright stripe of red across Steve’s cheeks and his earthy musk, he was outside plenty. He’s wiped, too.

You wonder absently when the last time he wore cologne was and what it smelled like. Perhaps he never used it. Perhaps he misses small luxuries more than he ever realized.

Steve looks on the brink of heat-stroke, so you inched yourself onto one side of the bed to start, thinking skin-to-skin contact might be unwelcome. You barely got your palms on the sheets before he pulled you to him. You did not fight it.

It’s meant to be a profound comfort—your weight atop him—and it is.

Your cheek settles on his chest, eyes watching through the sheer curtains as dusk takes over the sky, a happy man stretched like a cat beneath you, smiling, heart beat slowing in your ear. So strong, so steady, so secure.

He’s safe. He’s comfortable. That’s all that matters.

You peer up from your perch. The thin worry lines on his forehead have relaxed. He seems younger. Freedom looks good on Steve Rogers, just as good as it looks on Captain America, maybe better.

You fall asleep straddling his hips, one knee hitched so the crook of your ankle drapes his thigh, slowly pushed up and down by his deep breaths.

You’re drifting, rocked gently by powerful waves in the nothingness of your blank mind, free like him, blooming in the warmth of a bright sun embracing you.

The glow continues until Steve gently shakes you awake.

The room is pitch black, the lights of the parking lot too muted to pass through the gossamer layer over the window.

“You’re…you were squirming a lot. Thought you might be having a nightmare,” his rough timber booms close to your ear.

“No, I—“ you wipe at your face “—I don’t think I was dreaming.”

Steve’s not so relaxed under you now. His abs quake slightly, and those slow breaths have become stunted, shallow with control.

“Did you?” you ask, looking towards his face, useless in the dark but your drowsy brain hasn’t caught up yet.

There’s a shuffling noise above you.

“Is that a ‘yes?’ Did you have a nightmare? You alright?”

The shuffling repeats, accompanied by a strangled “yes,” and you lift your arm to brace on his chest. It unhooks your leg from his, and the hard length of his erection moves from its perch at your ass, nudging the joint of your hip and thigh from below.

“Not—not a nightmare,” he whispers. “Just ignore it.”

Steve’s voice is husky, his grip on the back of your knee tight and unyielding, keeping you from trapping him between your legs.

Your impulse is to soothe him, to tell him he is fine and it is okay to be turned on, generally, when naked and pressed to someone you find attractive—hell, you definitely are—but if he wants you to ignore it, if he’d rather not, if it’s too soon or too hot (metaphorically, physically) or just too much right now, then you respect that. None of this has ever been about making him feel like how he chooses to receive affection is wrong.

Without moving any limbs, your fingers retract and relax, a gentle, nailless scratch to his broad pec beneath your hand, and his cock twitches, tapping your leg.

“Sorry,” Steve huffs.

“Do you want me to get off of you?” You suppress the urge to make a minor edit in that statement because it’s very close to what you want to do.

The shuffling noise sounds different.

“No,” he says softly.

You slide your hand up his chest to his neck and around the back of his head, petting the corner of his bearded jaw just below his ear, careful to use as few muscles as possible.

His cock taps you again anyway. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

You ignore it, as asked, and continue scratching lightly at his scalp.

“Hey,” you start in the darkness, “is this comfortable?”

You run your fingertips over his features while he nods, following his jaw up and down. 

Unable to see, this paints the most vivid picture of Steve’s reactions. You feel the vibration of a hum through his cheek, the draw and release of his brow as you skate over his forehead. You hear his short chuckle when you brush ever-so-gently across his long lashes and boop his nose. Finally, you trace his open-mouth smile with the edge of your thumb, his ragged exhale rushing over your palm.

Tap.

“Sorry.”

“Comfy though?”

His voice is deeper than you’ve ever heard it. “Yeah.”

The drag of your fingers past the edge of bristly stubble and down his throat makes him shiver.

Twitch.

“Sorry.”

You flutter across his collarbone, wondering if that means he’s ticklish on more than just his sides.

“Comfy?”

He hums. You feel it rattle your cheek as much as you actually hear it in your ears.

You continue. His corded muscles giving only slightly to the pressure of your touch. His arm, his chest, down to the hand he keeps on your leg.

Several more breathy apologies sound above you. Steve’s other arm is draped over your waist, and with every pulse of need that betrays him, his grip tightens just a little. His fingers now dig into your soft flesh absently.

It’s hard to hide how desperate he’s made you, but the issue is mutual based on how his abs won’t stop tensing, searching for attention where he denies it. 

You flatten your hand to his chest and make to move.

“May I?”

Steve’s swallow is louder than the ‘okay’ he returns.

You are careful not to push him in any weird angles as you raise up to your knees and straddle him, pinning his erection beneath you, not directly between your folds but nestled at the apex of your legs, just so he won’t have to worry about every involuntary poke. 

With such fresh contact, he clenches his ass hard in response, lifting your whole weight completely before he settles again. The surge of heat to your core has you biting your lip to muffle a moan.

“Comfy?” you rasp at the same moment Steve offers a strangled “sorry.”

The low, constant whine of the air conditioner fills the hollow space around your cocoon of anticipation.

“New plan,” you laugh, relaxing your fingers to splay across his warm skin, “both of us stop doing that, huh? You have nothing to be sorry for, and I’ll trust you to tell me if you aren’t comfortable.”

“So…” Steve shuffles on the sheets, but whatever he moves doesn’t affect your position. “Can I touch you?”

You bite your lip harder before answering, your voice dropping to a sweet reassurance. “Yes. Of course you can, Stevie.”

You keep your pets of his chest and arms light, trying not to tickle him. He’s always so hesitant; you’re worried the tiniest misstep will send him back into his head—not in a good way.

The silence now feels purposeful, dense with possibility, and then rough fingertips land like a foreign explorer who’s braved months at sea solely to experience this moment.

A calculated inhale and exhale rock your pelvis, a wave of nerves foaming in your gut.

He starts innocently enough, mapping your thighs, muttering something about how soft they are, but you don’t dare lean to hear him better. No sudden movements. None. Even though your skin lights up as explosive as those 4th of July fireworks you missed.

Since there’s nothing to see in the room, you feel everything.

He keeps to the periphery of you at first, abandoning your legs to brush the same arms touching him, running fingers together, separating them just as quickly, caressing your palms gently, and dragging his short nails up your wrists without pressure.

You stiffen in pleasure, fighting not to shrink away from the purest intimacy you’ve ever experienced.

His long arms reach the curve of your shoulders, flit across your collarbone, and you’re doing your damndest to keep it together, leaning your head back in lieu of talking.

Don’t scare him.

It can’t last; you’re only human.

Steve’s hands slowly descend over your breasts, middle fingers catching your peaking nipples, and a lewd and aching cry tumbles from your bitten lips.

The force of it surprises you, but more surprising still is him, unfazed, encouraged to linger.

In that low timber, he growls.

“You like that… Knew you would.”

Your body throbs, pulsing with need and emptiness.

That means he thinks of you. He’s imagined this. He’s wanted this.

Stunning electricity shoots through your body as he pinches and twists, squeezes and kneads. Nothing too harsh, but he’s highly motivated when you purr and gasp atop him.

What else does he think about doing? How long has he fantasized? Is this as good as his imagination?

Yours aren’t the only noises now. He sounds tortured with little pleas and whimpers escaping before each guttural moan.

Arousal pools at your folds, and without realizing you started to move, the shy momentum of your hips has nudged his length to lay flush with your dripping center. His tip glides over your clit.

Again and again.

Again and again.

A hot pressure builds in you, faster than ever, kerosene dumped on your wet-dreams and burned to life, a spell manifest in the night.

Steve shakes beneath the palms you brace flat on his chest, the heels digging into his diaphragm.

He moves to grip your thighs hard.

Fire spreads beneath your skin as you two pant and gasp, his whole cock slick and slotted so close to where you truly long for him.

“Wait,” Steve groans, but you can’t understand.

No one could imagine how good this feels, how much you need this, how—

He sits up to stop you, accidentally notching himself at your entrance, your residual motion sliding the thick head of him past the that first, tight ring.

Steve’s lusty moan is barely eclipsed by your own, and you’re too close to halt sheathing him within you, arms instinctively wrapping his shoulders. Desire winds the coil in your belly too taut, the thought of losing this climax unbearable.

“N-uhhh god—“

He’s too sensitive though. He flips you both so your back crashes to the soft sheets and digs his grip into your side, his other hand thumping to anchor on the headboard. Steve sucks air through his teeth like he’s afraid the faintest smell of sex will set him off.

“Don—don’t move,” he orders in thick command.

It makes things worse.

You’re so close, vaulting off the ground and suspended by legs clamped around his waist, dangling on the precipice of ecstasy. You whine and clench, totally unable to control yourself, your nails digging into his back.

Steve cries out, choked at the hilt by your desperation and lost to his own finish.

His hand races from your side to your ass. He pulls out of you only to slot himself there and thrust his cock between your cheeks, cum shooting on the sheets below.

Mindlessly, you ride the cut of his abs, his course pubic hair adding almost enough friction to keep ascending toward your own end, but the void left behind is too consuming. The fire sputters and dims.

Steve buries his face in your neck, breath cooling the sweat lining your skin as he curls away from you, overwhelmed.

“Swear I was gonna wait,” he confesses to the tender spot behind your ear. “I swear.”

“Please,” you croak, tears prickling your eyes in lament for your ruined orgasm.

“Was gonna be better. Swear I’ll do better for you.”

You grope and claw at those thick arms which hold all but his face far away. “Please,” you beg pathetically, “fucking touch me, please.”

A drawn out grunt vibrates the column of your throat.

“Y’shouldn’t have ta beg...”

He shifts to his forearm, caging you in as you plead over and over. He kneels to hover, and your thighs weakly squeeze at his own to emphasize what you need.

“Sounds so pretty when you do…”

Something between a screech and a snarl erupts from your chest.

Steve shushes you, smoothing a big hand across your damp cheek, and quietly, he commands you, “show me what to do.”

Your quivering hold guides him by the wrist down your body. Words to instruct him won’t form in your sex-steeped brain. As luck would have it, he doesn’t need specifics.

“Next time I’ll taste you.” One finger teases your folds in search of his entrance. “Next time you’ll have to beg me to stop.” Two fingers drive forward, displacing a gush of your shared juices. “So wet,” he groans, agonized to silence when you jerk his hand to thrust faster.

“More.” 

He sets a loving and delicate pace, the heel of his palm working your clit. 

Too delicate.

“More,” you gasp.

He obliges, muttering how good he’ll be to you from now on. You’ll always be first. He promises.

The fire takes over again.

“More, Stevie. Please.”

You grind down on him to prove your point, and he marvels that this isn’t too rough for you.

Each strangled breath ties your moans together in a crescendo worthy of Carnegie Hall.

“God,” he rumbles by your ear again, “I know that sound. You’re close, aren’t you?”

Steve’s pumping fingers bully your body farther and farther up the bed, using only a taste of his real strength.

Your chant of ‘yes’ catches in your taxed lungs. He doesn’t need an answer though.

The super-stretched band snaps, a plateau of peace and weightlessness tipped at the vertex until—crash—nerves are razed all along you like a carpet-bombed battlefield.

“Uhnn, is that what you’re gonna feel like around me?” He sighs at the thought and stills his hand just to commit the ripple to memory. “How’m I s’pose to last?”

You slap a hand over his mouth, trying and failing to hold in your yelp of relief.

That mouth…that fucking mouth of his is a weapon all its own.

Tiny explosions wreak havoc on you, body and soul, as his fingers greedily coax you to keep coming—just a little more—just for him—one last rush—give him everything.

His lips open in your palm, but you grip his face harder.

You can’t. You can’t listen right now. You can’t hear one more dangerously sexy, completely innocent thing fall from his beautiful mouth.

Steve lets his hand go lax but doesn’t take it away from your clenched and spasming thighs.

He tries to speak again then gives up, waiting.

Finally, before you can collapse boneless to the bed, he hooks his arm behind your leg so you don’t land on the cold, cum-stained sheets.

He shakes off your forgotten grip of his jaw.

“Tops?” he whispers, patience personified in the long pause before you hum acknowledgment. “Can I kiss you?”

That fucking mouth…

There’s barely enough breath in you to make a sound, but the instant the ‘ye—’ forms in the back of your throat, Steve’s lips are on yours.

It's your first real kiss, of all the ways, after all this time, following all that.

You’d laugh if you weren’t smiling, suffocating in the gentle press that becomes deep and adoring. He kisses you thoroughly after each frantic gasp for air, savoring you, even in the reckless passion of the moment.

Steve rolls to lay you atop him again, more intimately than before. He keeps his face close, sharing breath even in the heat and stench of sex in the room, your wetness now smeared from his navel to his knee.

Turns out, he is a very good kisser, focusing on the act of physical connection. Not only do your lips touch, but he likes to nudge you into whatever minutely different position with his nose. He likes to nuzzle his beard on your sensitive skin until you giggle and squirm. He relishes you like you relish him. 

He whispers things too soft to make out at first. It takes him a while to find his voice, to push past his insecurities, to find his confidence, but eventually, you hear it.

He mumbles how he should have been better, more prepared.

You weave all your fingers through his hair, propped on his chest by your elbows, smiling so he’ll be able to tell in your tone.

“Take the win, Cap.” 

You freeze.

You’ve never called him that, and Steve stays silent for an excruciating beat.

“Sorry,” you offer in the dark, air conditioner churning out sobering drafts of reality.

Steve runs his knuckles gently in patterns across your bare back. There’s a short huff and an amused snort, you mind scrambling to plan some explanation as to why you’d haul the drama of out there into his safe space.

He guides you to settle against him again, tucking you into his strong hold with his chin resting on your forehead.

After what feels like an eternity, he simply asks, “comfy?”

A/N: In case you were wondering...

[Next part: Desperate Man, part one]

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @rogersbarber @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @mrsevans90 @lemonadygirl

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers series #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfic #nomad steve #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader smut #touchstarved #touch starved!steve #touch starved #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america x you #nomad captain america #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #hideout series

[fear-less]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 the last time

paring: james potter x reader x regulus black

warnings: angst, fluff?? maybe idk, ngl this is mostly james’ pov rarely shows regulus x reader scenes 🗣️❓, lowkey cringy, lowkey left on a cliff hangernot poly it’s james x reader then turns into reg x reader :3, use of y/n, lily is not cool in this sorry 😞😞 but love her, house doesn’t matter but it does mention that reader is not in gryffindor, there’s a couple of taylor references in this fic😜

a/n: here’s this bc i’m writing a request rn🙏🗣️

3.2k words ^_^

You had always thought James was your soulmate. You had shared so many happy memories, only dating for a year and a half but being friends longer. You never imagined a world without him.

But good things never last forever, especially when it’s something good happening to you. You never expected for James to break up with you, at least not for another girl he was slowly falling in love with, not for the girl he told you not to worry about.

“She’s just a friend,” you had recounted the amount of times he had told you those words. As much as he said them, he clearly never listened to them.

You had watched them get close together, everyone had known before you, Lily had his heart, but he had told you multiple times he loved you and only you. So why is he leaving you right now for her?

You could feel the flowers you two grew together dying of thirst.

Clearly, the feelings never died for her, as they were assigned to be partners in Transfiguration class for a project; you could see his change in attitude. He was slowly becoming distant.

But he clearly didn’t care anymore about your feelings as he flat out told you he was leaving you for Lily.

“Why?” you knew why. Everyone did.

“I just love her. I always knew she would be the one. I’m sorry.”

“If you knew she was ‘always the one,’ why did you get into a relationship with me? To play with the feelings?” you screamed, finally had enough of his crap.

That very day, you had walked out of the Gryffindor common room, would be the last.

You had cut all contact with James. Yes, you were friends with the other Marauders, but not close enough. You had ignored them anytime they would talk to you, only talking to them if it was important.

It had only been five days since your awful break up with James, five. Five days and he was already asking Lily out, and she had said yes.

You found out when you heard three girls gossiping in the library, you had run out the second you heard those words.

Were you that easy to get over?

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

‘I should be happy’ is what James keeps telling himself. He has the girl of his dreams laying on him right now! Why isn’t he smiling like a man in love? Why is he thinking about you?

He broke up with you because it was never going to be you. So why did he almost call Lily your name?

It had been a month since the breakup. In that month, he had celebrated his anniversary with Lily. They had been over the moon that day, thankful it was a Hogsmeade weekend. But that whole trip made him think of you. Especially when Lily got the same drink you always got.

He never realized how much he loved you. He misses your stupid jokes, your smile, the way you would always laugh at his jokes and pranks.

Lily would never be you, you would never be Lily. Ever. You would never make him feel bad for saying one silly joke. You would never discourage him from pulling a prank, as long as it didn’t hurt him. You would always drop what you were doing to be with him, Lily wouldn’t. He wasn’t used to that, wasn’t used to anything Lily was.

He was quickly lost in thought, not even listening to anything Lily was saying, until she slapped his hand, finally catching his attention back.

“What’s for you so deep in thought?” Lily said, her face holding a confused expression.

“Just about you, of course. Can’t wait to go more on these dates, till we are old and wrinkly.” James quickly said, not wanting to actually tell her what he was thinking.

Lily had smiled at that. Not knowing that those words were the words you would tell him almost every time you two were on dates. Making jokes about being together till you were old and wrinkly but so in love, still going on weekly dates.

James was stuck. Stuck in the past where he had you. He wishes more than anything to go back to that very same night and change things.

As stuck as James was, he told himself that he was just confused. He didn’t miss you, no! Maybe he was sick, so he’s thinking of you, yeah! That’s right, he doesn’t really care about you, he’s just sick.

He wishes to not be sick for long.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

It had now been seven months. Seven months and you had never been more happier than now. Around the sixth month, you had realized how much you had gotten over James. Not searching for him in the halls to not run into him, in the Great Hall, anywhere anymore.

You never noticed the little things you did that lead to you finally getting over James. But he did. He longed for the attention you gave him before entering a class you shared, before making a turn, before entering the Great Hall and walking past the Gryffindor table to get to your own houses table.

Seven months later, you were now clean, as you liked to say it. In that very month, you had been paired with Regulus Black for a project for Potions. The project was worth a lot and a very lengthy one at that. Making you and Regulus have to actually talk and not do the work silently and awkwardly.

That very same day, you two had agreed to meet in the library an hour and a half before supper.

That night had been one of the best you had in months. Laughter filling the side of the library you two were at, Madam Pince telling you two to shush over and over again.

What you didn’t know was the boy who you used to laugh that much with was starring at you, intensely. He was so confused, why were you laughing with Regulus Black? But why does he care, he only came to the library to accompany Lily. As the laughter once again filled the noiseless library, he got more mad.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

It had now been eight months. You had almost forgotten that James existed, some things would remind you of him here and there but your heart didn’t drop nor did it beat fast anymore over some small reference.

In those same eight months, you had also gotten closer to Regulus. It felt nice to be friends with him, though sometimes you wished it was more.

He understood you in many ways others couldn’t. In more ways James couldn’t. James was the opposite from you and Regulus was completely like you. Which is what made you two get along so quickly.

Now, you are walking with Regulus making your way to the Astronomy Tower. This spot had become your guys’ spot, coming here whenever. If you just wanted somewhere to hang out, if one was feeling sad, angry, or anything else. Although it was really only allowed to be entered during class, you two still found a way to enter without getting caught, it wasn’t that hard.

“How was your day today?” You had asked Regulus as you made your way to the railing.

“It was alright, History of Magic is always so boring, nearly fell asleep.” Regulus said, chuckling as he finished the end of sentence.

You had let out a giggle, smiling at Regulus then turning back to the view that the Astronomy Tower gave you of Hogwarts.

Regulus admired your features. He had always liked your eyes, the first thing he noticed. That same shade became his favorite color, he could get lost in your eyes for hours. His favorite second feature was your lips, a soft pink, he wishes he could kiss you.

Regulus pauses, why was he thinking about kissing you? He had known you before, but really getting to know you in a month, it’s been a month and he’s already head over heels. Great.

He knew about your past relationship with James, mostly everyone at Hogwarts did. He also knew that if he was James, he would’ve never left you. He would’ve married you, started a family with you.

“Are you okay? You’re totally spacing out on me, I was about to tell you about the cute animal I saw while walking in the Forbidden Forest!” Regulus always admired your love for animals, he loved the way you would ramble about them, going on and on about all the cute animals.

“I’m okay, don’t worry, I was just... thinking,” Regulus said, trying to get you to go back to talking about the animal you found.

“Alright…!”

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

It has now been nine months.

But the past two months have been heaven for you. Hanging out with Regulus has been the highlight of your days.

But something told you tonight was going to be different. It was a Hogsmeade weekend. Regulus invited you to go and hang out.

So now, here you were sitting across from him at Honeydukes. Sipping on your cold drink, trying not to laugh and make a mess of the drink in your mouth. You loved how funny Regulus was. He doesn’t seem like the funny type but he does know how to make a joke or two.

After thirty minutes of talking and giggling inside Honeydukes, you two had walked back to Hogwarts, going to the courtyard to just sit down on the nicely green colored grass.

You had made a joke causing Regulus to chuckle, before he cleared his throat and had said your name.

“Y/n.”

“What?” You had said nervously, confused on why he stopped laughing and randomly said your name in such a serious manner.

“I can’t do this anymore. Every time I’m with you I just… I want to kiss you. I really like you, if you don’t feel the same it’s fine I don’t expect you to, we have only known each for two almost three months but… if-“

You cut him off with a kiss.

Neither of you two could describe how you felt. Two hearts beating so fast.

“I like you too…” you had said, blushing while looking away.

Regulus smiled, leaning in for another kiss.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

James had a tough night. He was hanging out with Lily but all he could think about was you. What if he was hanging out with you instead, would you two be talking about the pranks he wanted to pull on Snape?

Come to think of it, he hadn’t pulled a prank in months, Lily never liked them so she told him to stop.

Him and Lily were not that similar, sometimes opposites don’t attract. James had learned the hard way. You were exactly like him, he really missed you.

After an hour of just hanging out with Lily, she got bored of his silence, leaving saying she was tired, but he knew she wasn’t tired at all.

He left once Lily went up to the girls' dormitories. Now he was in bed, not sleeping, wide awake, with Peter snoring loudly to his left.

He missed you so much. His heart ached when he remembered that night. The tears streaming down your face, when you yelled at him, when you walked out of his life.

The very next morning, he awoke with dark circles under his usually cheery eyes.

“You good mate?” Sirius asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’m fine just didn’t sleep well.”

Sirius just nodded, he knew James was lying, it was obvious. James was never good at lying.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

“What’re you staring at?” Lily asked, her head tilted slightly with no expression on her face.

“Nothing,” James says, only tearing his gaze away from you and Regulus when he realizes Lily was staring at him.

James sucked at lying. Lily knew he was staring at you. She also knew that she basically broke you and James up. So why was he staring at you when she’s right next to him?

Lily sighs, turning her attention away from James and towards her food, then at you.

Once James realized Lily wasn’t paying attention to him, he turned his gaze back to you. It had only been a few months since the breakup so why were you happy? Why were you laughing at a joke Regulus made? Why are you currently leaning on his shoulder because of a joke he made that was definitely not funny?

Are you seriously replacing him with a Slytherin of all people… his best mate's little brother too? Were you trying to get his attention? It’s definitely working, can’t you feel his gaze on you?

“No way she’s laughing with Regulus,” Sirius says, scoffing as he talks.

James’ gaze now broken and on Sirius, “Right, it’s like she’s trying to get my attention,” James says, rolling his eyes.

“Or maybe she’s finally moving on,” Remus suggests, Sirius and James scoffing at that.

“With Regulus? Please, they won’t last. He can barely function without our parents, doubt he can keep a relationship,” James laughs at what Sirius says.

“Can’t wait to see your brother break her heart, it’ll be entertaining,” Remus now sighing, tired of the conversation about James and his exes maybe new boyfriend.

Peter randomly butts in the conversation, “If you ask me, I think they’re an amazing couple, just like you and Lily, Prongs.”

James pauses, if Peter thinks you and Regulus are a good couple, would everyone else think the same? He felt sick, he didn’t want you moving on. He didn’t want to see you happy with another boy, and especially not a Slytherin.

“No, they don’t suit each other. Sirius can back me up, Regulus is too rude for Y/n, she prefers the sweeter guys.”

Sirius laughs, “I hope you aren’t referring to yourself as a sweet guy, plus that’s my brother you’re talking about.”

James lets out a small grin, “Yeah yeah, I’m leaving now. I have to do something.”

Lily now paying attention to James, “Where are you go-“ she couldn’t even finish what she wanted to say before James rushed out of his seat and made his way to wherever he was going.

“Does anyone know where he’s going?” Lily asked the other three Marauders, all three shrugging.

Lily sighed, about to put her head down until she saw both you and Regulus leave the Great Hall with James slowly following you two.

Confused and frustrated on why her boyfriend was now giving all his attention to the girl he left for her, she got up and made her way to James.

Once you made your way to the library to find the book you’ve been waiting to finally be turned in by the other student who had been reading it for forever, Regulus was the one who noticed James had been following you guys.

He subtly let you know, making you have a quick look behind you, seeing James walk behind you guys trying to be subtle but failing.

Regulus noticed the way you tensed up when you saw James following you two. He knew you still cared about him in some way, but he didn’t know how much.

“Are you okay?” Regulus whispered, grabbing your hand under the table to try and comfort you.

“Yeah, I’m fine; just wasn’t expecting him to follow us,” you whispered back, squeezing his hand.

“Hey, you,” Regulus said, getting your attention back.

You turned to face him, a small smile on your lips, “Hey, yourself.”

Regulus took your hand and kissed the back of it, making you blush and look down at your lap.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Regulus asked again, genuinely concerned for you.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I have you; what else could I possibly want?”

Regulus smiled at that, leaning in to give you a kiss on your cheek.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes, and for the first time in months, you truly felt happy.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

“What do you mean? Of course, I don’t like her?” James said as if what he was saying was obvious.

“What do I mean? C’mon James, you’re always staring at her, you even left the Great Hall because her and another dude did!” Lily’s almost had enough of bickering back and forth.

“So what? I left her for you, stop being so insecure, she means nothing to me, it’s a coincidence that they left the same time I did, don’t over analyze it like you always do!” James replied angrily, having enough of this conversation because if he was being truthful, yes he left the Great Hall because he saw you and Regulus leave hand in hand!

“Insecure? Wow James, this is so stupid, just admit it! You still love her, but why? When we were meeting in secret you always told me she was boring and other things! So what’s changed? The fact that she’s now over you and probably in love with that dude? I am leaving don’t even answer that question.” Lily huffed, angrily leaving the empty common room to who knows where.

James now angry and full of thoughts, he makes his way to the sofa near the fireplace. Does he still love you? He regrets telling Lily that you were boring; you never were. You were always full of light, the best girlfriend ever, in comparison to Lily she was nothing compared to you.

Now James was thinking, could he get you back? You and Regulus might be dating but he wasn’t so sure. You two seem like great friends who might like each other so if he makes his way back into your life the feelings for Regulus would leave and you and James would live happily ever after.

He really liked his idea, now all he needed to do was put it to plan. He would always know your after-school schedule so he quickly made his way to the library.

As he entered he made his way to the spot you always were, he remembers the hours you two would spend there, remembering that made his heart flutter, he couldn’t wait to get you back!

That dream of his was soon crushed.

There you were. The same spot, but with Regulus, not just hanging out but kissing.

Why were you kissing him?

James felt his heart break, he let the only good thing in his life go away. How could he be so stupid, he had you and left you for another girl who is quite the opposite of him.

He stood there for a minute or two, but enough for you and Regulus to notice him.

“Um, James?” You talked, awkwardly looking at him, glancing at Regulus.

James quickly snapped out of the trance, hearing your voice say his name almost made him melt until he remembered what he saw. James swallowed his spit, “I’m leaving don’t worry, continue on with whatever that was.” James scoffs with an angry expression.

James did what he said he’d do. Right after he talked to you after months, he sped back to his dorm, not feeling like dealing with anyone. Anyone that wasn’t you.

Is this how you felt when James broke up with you? He honestly wasn’t sure he could or even wanted to get over you. You were just perfect, and he ruined it.

James had never slept worse ever in his life than that night.

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

#regulus black x female reader #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x you #regulus black fluff #regulus black x reader #regulus black #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter oneshot #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter #harry potter x you #harry potter x y/n #harry potter x reader #harry potter oneshots #harry potter fanfiction #marauders x reader #harry potter #marauders

[neteyamm]

untitled bc yeah

pairing jake sully x na’vi!reader (female coded)

warning(s) nsfw, minors dni, oral, kinda na’vi heat?

author note this was literally going to be in a fanfic i was writing, but then, i like scrapped it and wrote this in thirty minutes. lol, is kitty offensive? jake’s great great great grandparents x20 was gen z. think on that. this is actually like crack? like crack wit smut? idk. enjoy i guess. jake’s pussy whipped, sooo. lol accidental third person? well, its third person limited, bc it’s jake pov? that happened accidentally tho. soz <33 unedited … yeah <33 my descriptions are actually shit and i think i gave jake adhd? lowercase very much not intended. i spent too much words on fucking silk. that had no reason being there :) it was fun tho. somehow past tense but not? idk not edited so yeah. enjoy again ig.

that small area, filled with overgrown trees, bushes and plants, lush greens and illuminating purples, had already been claimed before jake stumbled into it. it was hard to find, and it had been a mistake on his part in finding it, he’d took a tumble from the tall trees, fell through some pretty hard branches, and landed before the slender covered entrance. at first, jake thought he was looking at cloth, that somehow the na’vi had created silk fabric. he’d touch it, shocked and slightly excited, only to feel as if he’d touched a spiderweb. the silk, he’d realized, was natural — made from a bug larvae, most likely. jake had pushed the silk aside to the reveal small area. the ground was the most softest marsh he’d ever stepped on, nearly tickling his feet when he dragged them. the plants, the bushes, the trees, everything was alive and glowing, the ground tracking his footprints, it was nothing short of amazing.

he’d turned to leave, wondering if neytiri had ever been here, when his ears perks up. the tall tale sound of a hiss. it sounds like bees in someone’s throat, and escapes in a bone-chilling sound that even now, as a true na’vi and could very much make the sound himself, leaves him nervous and admittedly a little weak in the knees. he could remember when meeting the clans with tsu’tey and neytiri, asking them to fight the humans, he would steel himself when hearing it. there were so many different sounding hisses, and yet jake thinks his clan took the cake for the scariest ones.

he shakes his head. the point being, the sound makes his hairs stand and his tail to swish nervously. he turns, looking up to see a na’vi woman, an omaticayan, squatting in one of the lower branches covered in illuminated moss. she holds a dagger carved from their newest hometree, after many months of searching, tsu’tey found one suitable for their many people. she hisses again, defensive, and he smells it then. it’s like a light switch goes off in his mind. the reason he hadn’t seen neytiri, or any of the unmated women, it was the change of the tide — they called it — and when that happens, unmated na’vi women go into heat.

it’s also the reason he hadn’t seen tsu’tey all day. it makes sense now, he honestly thought they were avoiding him. he wants to slap himself now. how disrespectful of him to stumble into a woman’s marked territory, during her heat no less. he holds his hands up and walks backward, barely withholding a flinch when she hisses again.

“uh, sorry, ma’am. so sorry, didn’t mean to … what’s the word? hm, uh, embark? no, definitely not the word. uh. sorry to invade your territory?” he backs away slowly, least he accidentally starts a chase he did not want. “i’m just gonna—”

“are you mated, toruk makto?” compared to her hiss, her voice is quiet nice, hm, like honey he thinks, smooth sounding, sweet tasting, almost like her scent—he snaps out of it. her words correlate in his mind.

he honestly forgot he was the toruk makto for a moment. the war had been months ago, and despite the fact that many people won’t let him forget that he was the sixth, it was easy to forget when people got over the awe. got over the awe and saw that he was really just a clumsy guy, with a too big heart, a little too smart mouthed, and great enough warrior. he takes pride in being the head warrior, just beneath tsu’tey.

“no…?”

“was that a question, toruk makto?”

“no?” he looks around for a moment, before back to the woman. he noticed it then, she was actually quite beautiful. huh. her hair wasn’t braided, and from the slight waves, he assumed she’d just taken them down. oh, he abruptly looks away. she wore the customary loincloth, yet only a single beaded necklace, with tiny beads extending from it like dripping water, covered her nipples.

“do you want a mate?”

now that he thinks of it. he hadn’t really been looking for someone to mate with forever. once he realized neytiri was destined for tsu’tey, and they had some odd partnership going on between them—he got over that crush painstakingly slow. not to mention, tsu’tey could be scary, and jake didn’t want to mess up his position as the next olo’eyktan. no, no, jake wasn’t looking for anyone, despite the obvious looks he was receiving. he looked back to the woman, she was staring at him with clear eyes. wait. . . was she offering?

“what’s your name?” he questioned, dropping his hands when realized he still hand them up like a idiot.

“(name) te tshaka de mo’at’ite,” she says, confidently. he blinks. now, why has he heard that name before? oh, oh! the mystery woman! he remembers it clear as day now. the younger sister of the three sisters, the deceased one, the next tsahik one, and the mysterious one. that’s what, he couldn’t even remember the dead avatar driver’s name now, had said, anyway. the avatar driver had thought he was being funny, until grace practically kicked his ass and nearly cut him off.

jake couldn’t for the life of him remember seeing her, he could remember hearing her name being called, her voice talking, but she was never in sight. “neytiri’s sister?”

“yes, neytiri is my older sister by a single cycle,” she grits her teeth, a hand briefly pushing at her lower belly. “you did not answer my question, toruk makto. do you want a mate?”

“uh, are you sure this isn’t your heat talking?” jake couldn’t help but wonder. what if it was someone else that barged in, would she say the same?

“i have seen you—”

“you have?” jake raises a brow.

“i have watched you—”

“you have?” jake raises both brows.

“i have followed you—”

“you have?” jake couldn’t help the voice crack or raise in pitch. he never noticed anyone following him. oh man, this shouldn’t be as flattering as he’s taking it.

“i decided that i will have you,” she finishes, not an ounce concerned with just how odd she sounds. she is confident, jake will give her that, to outright tell someone that you will have them is ballsy.

“you will?”

“I will. I am glad it was you who stumbled upon my thicket. otherwise, i would have injuried them.”

well, that settles it. jake always liked a woman who could kill him, and well, (name) looks fierce and ready to kill him. besides, jake’s a simple man, someone willingly to be with him? forever? hah, if his old buddies from earth could see him now. they were always saying jake would never find a girl or guy, he wasn’t the best at flirting.

“well, here i am, have me?” he understands his old buddies, now. he cringes, by eywa, did i really say that?

(name) gives a rich laugh, it causes a shiver to run down his spine, and he only has half a second to catch the lunging woman. they tumble through the soft marsh, nearly sinking into it as she settles quite contently on his lap. she brings her quene around, and jake does the same, watching in morbid fascination as the tendrils coil and link around the other.

it only takes a second for their minds to connect, emotions bursting full and richly around their interlinked minds. there’s no love there, not yet at least, but its overwhelming, heartwarming and thrilling all at once. he could feel her brushing against his mind, squeezing around his brain, settling into the missing blanks, melting into the crevices and nooks. it feels good, it feels right, and he’s suddenly heavily aware of the stabbing pain in her lower belly. amazing how she kept a clear mind with that amount of pain, geez.

he wonders, briefly, if this would have felt more special if they took things slow. but then, he’s struck by unbridled lust, and forgets his wonderings. well, it’s been years since he’s last did anything, really, and her scent was starting to coat the air thickly.

“so,” jake starts awkwardly. does this count as a one night stand, we just met, and now we’re about— his thoughts blank when she grabs his hands, pressing them against her tits. the beads dig into his skin for a moment, but they’re easily removed, and suddenly it’s skin on skin contact. he squeezes, instinctively really, and draws out a breathy whimper from (name). his eyes widens briefly, and he feels like inexperienced teenage boy again with his fast he hardens.

she must have felt him, there’s no way she hadn’t, her hips move upwards slightly, then back down. it’s his turn to whimper at the friction of the cloth and the pressure of her weight on him, practically suffocating his cock. he decides, last minute, to give her perky nipples a little twist and he savors her sounds. she really did sound good, like — his eyes caught the silk curtain swaying gently — like honey dripping onto silk.

her scent rolls around his nose, strong, thick, and heady. he rolls them over without a second thought, hands sliding down to her loincloth. his eyes meet her’s, and he raises a brow. “may i?”

she twists her hips a little, impatience nudges against his mind, “please,” she purrs, litreally, it starts in her chest and settles in her throat. like a cat. like a kitty. oh, he shudders.

he makes easy work to untie the strings, the cloth falling away aimlessly, and that is all it takes for her arousal to truly be smelt. he gulps, swallows harshly, gulps again. shit, is it hot? why does it feel like his control is breaking? her inner thighs were glistening and as she happily, and proudly spreads her legs, he couldn’t help the groan of utter pain. his cock throb painfully, his chest ache painfully, this has to be a crime. he’d never once in his life seen a cunt so pretty.

his mouth waters, and he swallows again, least he starts drooling everywhere. he knows that wouldn’t be an appetizing sight. he shakes his head, back on track. he clenches his fingers, before scooting himself back, settling on his belly, and eye level with this beautiful, beautiful cunt.

“pretty,” he unconsciously mutters, mesmerized. her pink bud peeking out between her puffy lips, his eyes catching sight of tiny droplets sliding down and disappearing into the marsh below them. “god, such a pretty pussy.” it felt wrong to call upon eywa, what if she heard? what if she saw? he doesn’t think the mother goddess needs to see this.

“hurry, jake,” she whines above him, twisting her hips again, and his eyes tracks the movements. she’s practically waving her cunt in his face. he groans.

“patience, kitty,” he mutters, debating if he should eat or finger, hm. shit, he really wants to taste her. “you want me to touch you?”

“yes, please,” she whispers, sounding shy all of a sudden. he chuckles at that, barely dodging the thump from her tail against his face.

jake uses his index and thumb to spread her puffy lips, his eyes flutter, his breathing is caught, he could die right here, he could die a happy man right here, right now. jake can’t even call it glistening anymore, she’s practically a river, so wet, dripping and dripping, her pretty hole clenching around nothing.

he leans forward, flattening his tongue, and giving her a generous swipe. her taste melts on his tongue, heady and sweet all at once, he swallows like a man starved and does it again. his tongue nudging against her hole, catching the juices that exit. “ooh, fuck, you taste so good, babygirl,” he groans. he really feels like praying.

“j-jake,” her whimpers and mewls were like music to his ears, and the moment she grips his hair, his hips jerk and he has no choice but to eat her like a man straved. he slurps as much of her juices as he could, before turning his attention to her neglected bud, swirling around the engorged bud slowly, eyes fluttering open to watch the way her body responded.

he swirls on the left side, her belly clenches. he swirls on the right side, her thighs shudder against his head, a true moan ripped from her throat. “so pretty, you moan so prettily,” he grins against her cunt and attacks that spot with vengence.

he uses his free hand to wrap around her thigh, prying it open as they begin to close around his head. she shudders above him, fingers tightening around his hair, pretty sounds trembling from her lips. he swirls and slurps, sucks and nips, and he could only feel himself growing harder by the second. “j-jake—haah!—m’gonna cum!” she warns, spreading her legs a little wider and practically shoving her cunt into his face, and he happily takes advantage of it.

he wraps his arms underneath her thighs, hands settling on her hips in soft grip, locking her in place as he brings her closer and closer to her release. she’s not quiet anymore, sounds ringing above them, her mind is blissful against his — thinking of nothing but the strings of pleasure. it only takes a well placed swipe of his tongue, a tiny nip of his fangs and—

“j-jake—m’cumming!” she cums with a sequel, thighs nearly locking around his head, but he grabs them in time. he’d seen what a na’vi women’s thighs could do to a head. he happily licks up the steady trail of white leaking from her hole, listening to her soft whimpers and satisfied purrs.

“good, kitty?” he asks, propping up on his elbows to get a good look at her. he nearly starts kicking his feet at the satisfied expression on her beautiful face.

“mhm, very good, jake,” she grins, fangs on display, and goddamnit, he’s going to burst from that image alone.

“you want some more, pretty girl?”

her cheeks bloom like anemones, eyes casting downwards, and her grin turning shy. she’s so fucking cute, it hurts, really. “i need your cock, jake.”

“oh?” he raised a brow, condescendingly, “you need it?” she nods, eagerly. “if you didn’t need it, babygirl, would you want it?”

“yes,” she shudders, “please, jake.”

“hm, let me see,” he mutters, dragging himself onto his hunches. he chuckles when she props up on her elbows eagerly, watching his fingers untie his loincloth with lustful eyes. he sighs when the cool air hits his cock, the tip an angered magenta and leaking clear pre-cum. air sucks through his teeth when she reaches forward, grabbing his cock in a tight grasp. “careful, kitty, don’t hold too tight for me, yeah?”

she leans down, mouth dropping open, and he stops her, index underneath her chin. “later, pretty girl,” he promises.

her lips pout, slick from spit and brusied from biting, “but, you—”

he gives a quiet tut, “i’ll train your pretty throat for me, later. right now,” he grabs her waist, forcing her on to her back. she gives a startled look, pretty eyes wide, and mouth popping open. “i need to fuck your fat cunt, until the only thing you remember is my name, hm?”

she shudders, hands reaching for his. “please,” she begs prettily.

ugh, he hopes na’vi can’t have heart attacks.

#avatar smut #avatar way of water #jake sully #jake sully x reader #jake smut #jake sully smut #babygirl only sounds right from jake’s mouth #avatar 2009 #he’s literally it #.masterlist.

[noproofread]

The Regular (NSFW)

i have to stop listening to chase atlantic

Shanks x afab!reader (no pronouns used but feminine traits are present)

oral (male recieving), public, masturbation, dom!shanks if you squint, Shanks is turned on and needs reader to help him right then and there, skull fucking, idk standard porn lmao.

word count: 1,004

masterlist here

The red-haired pirate entered your bar again. He had been frequenting your bar for the past couple of months as his crew was docked on your island awaiting repairs for their ship. Through mutual flirty glances and suggestive one-liners, it was no secret both of you had something. You purposefully wore skirts that kept getting smaller the more he came to the bar. His crew had commented on your ass, making their captain upset. It seemed he believed that he was the only one who could talk about you like that. To objectify you. You weren't opposed to it, you reveled in it. You would bend over in front of him, teasing him, tempting him to grab you and take you right then and there.

It was a fun game, to see how far you could go before he would break. It had to be a matter of time, he could barely look at you without excusing himself to the bathroom to take care of himself. You loved to watch him get red as he uncomfortably waddled to the bathroom, barely making it inside before his hand was in his pants. You started it by wearing low cut shirts first, making sure to lean forward just enough to where he could see into your shirt. However, you quickly found that mini skirts did it for him. You began wearing them more often. Some with slits on the side to really get him going.

You looked forward to seeing him in your bar. This time was no different. Your skirt was so small it was practically nonexistent. Red-haired Shanks sat at the bar, his face was a deep crimson. He was visibly frustrated. He used his index and middle finger to gesture to you to get closer. You bit your bottom lip and obliged, leaning over to Shanks. “Look at what you caused… Now you have to fix it.” He whispered in your ear as he pointed to the growing bulge in his pants. You looked at him, your face feeling hot as your heartbeat quickened. Trying your best to contain your excitement, you pointed to the back. He shook his head, quickly hopping over the bar. He began unbuttoning his pants, you quickly glanced across the room. Nobody was paying attention to you, they were all engrossed in their drunken conversations. Shanks chuckled under his breath.

"Kneel down sweetheart.”

Your breath hitched, looking back at Shanks. Noticing his pants were now pooled at his feet. Your mouth salivated as you scanned his dick. You nodded, looking into his eyes. His eyes closed as soon as he felt your breath on his erection. You licked the tip slowly, running your tongue down to the base. A hiss escaped the red-haired pirate as he threw his head back. You shushed him, you didn't want your patrons to realize what was happening mere feet away from them. He laughed breathlessly as he nodded in agreement. You carefully began placing gentle kisses on the shaft. Shanks’ hand found its way to the back of your head, gripping a fistful of your hair. “Love, I’m not here for games.” He reprimanded you.

You nodded your head, not breaking eye contact. You slowly took him in your mouth. You felt him twitch a little as he got used to the warmth surrounding him. “fuck~” a hushed whisper fell from his lips as he instinctively bucked his hips forward, hitting your throat in the process. You had little control of your movements, being pushed onto him by the hand that was gripping the back of your head. Low grunts and soft moans left Shanks, just soft enough that they blended in with the loud chatter of the environment. You used one of your hands to massage your clit, needing sensation to take care of your pooling arousal that had dampened your panties.

Seeing Shanks enjoying your mouth did things to you. The way he threw his head back with his eyes closed. His brows were furrowed as he focused on the rising feeling within him with every thrust. Your fingers slipped beneath your panties as you rubbed gentle circles onto your clit. Quiet moans formed in your throat. Shanks looked down at you, admiring the way you looked wrapped around him. He watched you play with yourself as you sucked his dick. Drool covering him completely. Just the sight of you was enough to make him cum. An echo of soft “yeah’s” came from the red-haired pirate, making complete eye contact with you. Your own movements became sloppy as your fingers were completely coated with your slick. You pumped two fingers into you as your thumb rubbed your clit. You felt a heat build up in your stomach. You held your breath at times to keep you from screaming out his name. Your pussy felt hot, throbbing sensitively into your hand as you tried to get yourself off. You held Shanks’ gaze, feeling yourself inch closer to your release. Shanks bit his bottom lip to contain his grunts as he climaxed, shooting sticky cum into your throat. You swallowed it, watching him hunch over as he sighed deeply in satisfaction.

The mere sight of him unraveling to your touch sent you over the edge, allowing you to cum all over your fingers. Shanks pulled out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting you to him. He kneeled down to your level, scruffing your hair. You were panting, trying to catch your breath. “When you get off work I want to feel all of you…” He whispered, sitting on the floor to dress himself. You felt yourself blush at his proposition. He kissed your forehead, standing up and taking his place at the other side of the bar. “A whiskey neat please. When you get the chance, barkeep.” He winked, shaking an empty glass in the air momentarily before setting down. You straightened yourself up before taking the glass in your hand. “Right away!” You cheerfully replied, winking back at him.

#one piece #one piece fic #opla #x reader #one piece smut #red haired shanks #shanks x reader #shanks #one piece shanks #shanks smut

[netherfeildren]

The Cassandra Complex : Chapter XII : Venus

Series Masterlist : Moodboard

(Din Djarin x F!Reader)

A/N: I realized shortly after posting chapter 11 that I’d made a small mistake in the timeline I’m intending this to follow. I included a line from Din saying Paz had already tried to take the Darksaber from him and failed, but where we’re at now, chapter 5 of The Book of Boba Fett hasn’t happened just yet. So I’ve gone back and deleted that small detail from the previous chapter, and why am I even telling you this, idk, but if you guy could do me a solid and pretend to forget my fuck up, I’d love you forever for it. 

Writing Star Wars is hard

Also, the indomitable @dirtysouvenir has rendered the most gorgeous artwork imaginable of Din and Sithy, and I still can’t quite believe my eyes every time I look at it. Everyone please go show Jonis all the love and praise she deserves. 

Anyways… like always, forgive me for the wait. I love you all for being so patient with me. And shout out to chapter four of Someone’s Wife in the Boat of Someone’s Husband which served as inspiration for this. You will always be famous to me!

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 8.1K

Read on AO3

Tip Jar

CHAPTER XII : VENUS

What are we doing here, and why are our hearts invisible?

Anne Carson, Kinds of Water

“Just like that, yes. Good girl–keep doing what you’re doing.” His hand slides to circle your wrist, leather and the thick weave of your tunic, the slight shake of your nerves caught between. “Grip it firmly, but squeeze it gently. Yes– yes, good. You’re doing so well.”

You suck in a trembling breath, too hyper aware of the feel of his chest plate brushing against your back, the cap of his left knee gently bumping the back of your own, his arms wrapped in a loose and careful cage around your frame where he’s helping you direct the blaster at the target he’d set up several meters away for practicing. He’s got one of your wrists wrapped in the leather of his fist, the other cupping the underside of your elbow to keep your shaking arms steady. 

“I don’t know why I’ve never been very good at this,” you whisper over the sound of the burning desert winds lashing you in the brow. “It’s just never come very easy.”

“That’s alright. That’s why we’re practicing again.” The hand cupping your elbow moves slowly to your waist, all his handling of you these past few days has been so intentional, cautious and patient and aware of himself and you and your reactions. Your heart beats, thumps and thumps hard enough to make you a little dizzy, a little sick. “Keep your right arm firm, but fluid. Try not to lock your elbow, let the recoil move through you steadily.”

He’d covered your hair and face in soft white linen wraps to keep you from being scorched by the sun and sand, and his voice is so deep, head pitched low so that the modulator is vibrating right at the level of your ear, the sounds of him sluicing through the linen to curl around your ear. You shiver again, squeezing your fist too tight around the butt of the blaster. You’d asked him if he’d help you practice just before you’d made planet fall a few hours ago, and now here the two of you are. A few clicks outside of Mos Eisley, he’d found a cluster of sandstacks to land the Crest amidst for a couple hours of target practice—near an area he’d told you is called Beggar’s Canyon. 

You’re not sure if it’s just an excuse to have him touch you, but here you are now, in the circle of his arms, shivering with nerves and heat and want. The sun burns, but the places where he grips you burn worse, and your heart rings in your skull. 

“Focus your gaze between the eyeline, eventually, it’ll come naturally, your aim, but for now, use the field the blaster sets. Squeeze gentle–” He grips your now healed elbow firmly, anchoring your arm, the hand holding your wrist moves to your waist, securing you in his hold so that when you pull the trigger, the zing of the blaster bolt leaving its chamber moves through your limb, into your chest cavity, electrifying your heart, and his hold is steadying all the way through. He’s there to keep you up, keep you strong, and so it’s almost thoughtless when you do it, a gut instinct or some muscle inside your brain desperate to flex and stretch or come awake because faster than you can blink or think, you take hold of that bolt of plasma with your mind, freezing it midway between where the two of you stand and the target he’d set. 

You feel his hands flex around you, but he keeps still and silent, watching, waiting for what you’ll do next. And your heart beats faster and faster, the bright of the sun gleaming and nauseating, refracting off the sand, the plasma, your eyes. The bolt screeches and writhes and defies the laws of nature by your hand, and it does not feel good, but it does feel right. 

The first time you’ve really wielded the Force since the night you escaped. 

There’s something painful and uncomfortable and familiar about it coming back to you. Your breath goes fast within your chest, the taste of the desert on your tongue and the grit of sand sneaking beneath your clothes, sweaty line of anxiety down your spine, and his steady, calm breaths up against your back every other moment, this power inside of you that’s always been the cause of everything bad and only some things good. It vibrates in everything, moves through all living things, the Force, within you, within him. 

“Let it go, cyare. It’s okay if you miss.” You shut your eyes and let it fall away and now it’s not the Force or you or anything else, it’s only him keeping you up against the rest of everything. 

The two of you, like grief and the mountain. 

-

“How did you meet this woman again?” You ask for about the third time, seemingly unable to keep your mouth shut and your nerves to yourself. 

“She’s been keeping up maintenance on the Crest for a while now. And she helped out with the kid, watched him for me a couple times—I trust her.”

“Peli,” you repeat the name contemplatively, taking in the sight of him as he checks the pre-landing codes, flipping switches and punching toggles a little too roughly. He’s agitated, covered and swathed in it. You know he’s worried about you, the way you’ll feel being around someone else, scared you’re still feeling fragile or tired or weak. And you’re accepting it for now because you are. You are tired and you do feel fragile and you do need taking care of. If only for the time being, if only for a little bit longer. A sort of end feels very near, and you’re still working out what that such end is going to be. 

“Peli,” he sighs, hitting the last button and finally swiveling in his chair to face you, and you eye him suspiciously, you know that sigh and head tilt. “How do you feel?”

“Fine.”

“Not tired?”

“No.”

“Your shoulder?”

Hurts. “Fine.”

“Cyar’ika.”

“Din.” Another sigh. Another shake of his head. You’re sure he’s rolling his eyes at you beneath that stupid lug of metal he wears on his fat head. But you hope that he’s smiling too, and you give him a soft, small one of your own, twisting your fingers together tightly in your lap. You want to reach out for him, to go to him and sit with him and kiss him again like the other day. But you don’t feel ready again. Again, fragile, tired, a weakness of heart within you that you can’t understand the source of, or you can, but you don’t want to accept it, you want to be able to move on, to get over it, to be like you once were. But that you also know he’ll let you feel for as long as you need to.

“I promise I feel okay, and that I’ll tell you if I don’t.” The target practice had left you tired and awake, and there is something moving inside of you—a recognition of sorts you can’t pinpoint exactly, but which you know is going to show or tell you something about yourself soon, the Force, the things you’d done or the things you’d do. And there’s patience too, a waiting, a readiness to receive whatever this would be without pressure or urgency. You feel entirely strung tight, a knot about to be set loose, entirely at ease, as well. Something strange about the anxiety you carry within yourself, like it doesn’t really matter much anymore and is only waiting for the right moment to be expelled. 

He gives a soft grunt and turns back to face the control panel. The rolling golden sands of Tatooine like an ocean before you, and then there in the distance, the littered smattering of sand blighted little buildings that make up the spaceport of Mos Eisley. He directs the Razor Crest towards Hangar three-five, the ship jostling with the lowering of the landing gear. 

“What if she doesn’t like me?” You ask nervously, following him down the ladder once he’s eased the ship into the landing bay, fretting over this ordeal of having to meet someone else from his life, a friend, which wasn’t even something you were aware he knew how to have. You hear the heavy thud of his boots against the durasteel, and then his hands are circling your waist and pulling you down the rest of the way, paying no mind to your indignant squawking. 

He’d been strange with his touch, as well. As if he couldn’t help himself some moments, overcome by habit and familiarity, and then afraid and cautious in others. And you can’t understand how you feel about this either. Grateful, a sort of soft that makes your eyes smart and your cheeks bleed with heat. He’s so aware of you, so aware of what you might want or need, but then overcome, as well, needing you, wanting you. And you feel so afraid you won’t be able to give him those things—the ones he wants or needs, that you won't be able to find your way back to the way things had been between the two of you before. 

“You’ll be fine,” he says, little compassion to be found for your fretting. You stick your tongue out at the back of his head, rolling your eyes and steeling yourself as he lowers the hatch, and a chirpy little voice calls, Mando!

The plank lowers, and lowers, and lowers, and finally, a mess of springy dark curls come into view. The small woman, Peli, claps her hands excitedly and spreads her arms in wide welcome of him, and something in your heart throbs. 

A friend, indeed. 

“Peli,” he greets her, heavy, swaying gate stomping down the gangplank, voice serious and not all matching her enthusiasm. You roll your eyes at him again as the reverberations of his steps tickle your feet through the soles of your boots. 

“Hey, look everyone! It’s Mando,” she says to the chittering droids whirring around her. You follow him slowly, slinking directly behind him so that the breadth of his shoulders conceals you for a second longer before, “And who do we have here? Another unlikely companion?” 

He pivots, letting you step into full view and brave shyness, a hand coming up to hover around your waist, urging you forward, but not actually touching you. The sound of your name rings in tune to the thump of your heart through the modulator. Careful, so careful, and it makes you hurt at your own self. Wanting to touch you one moment, unable to stop himself from ripping you into his arms; another, afraid, feeling like he can’t even put a gently motioning hand on your body, and how will you ever fix this? How are you going to ever be able to get the two of you back to where you were? 

You take a hurt little step away from him, swallowing the heat in your throat several times before you can force a smile onto your face. 

His body shifts and sways towards your retreating one. 

But the small woman steps towards you, pit droids spinning and skittering frantically around her, and she claps a work hewn hand on your shoulder. “Let Peli take a good look at you.” Her gaze is cheerful, full of a youthfulness that belies her age and an even more cheerful, gap toothed smile. “Pretty girlfriend, Mando.” She waggles her bushy brows up at him. “Brought me another set of bright eyes, didn’t’cha?”

“It’s nice to meet you, Peli.” Your throat feels humiliatingly tight when she takes your hand in her smaller one, giving it a swift shake, no gentleness about the way she handles you, and there’s something comforting about the forsaking of the kid gloves. Your fracture isn’t obvious for the whole world to see, there’s still normalcy to be found for you. 

She looks up at Din as you avoid his burning gaze, laughing scowl on her sunny face. “Who woulda thought you had it in, ya, huh?” She thumps a fist on his chest plate, shaking her head and moves to take a look at the Crest. “To what do we owe the pleasure? Chasing down some elusive bounty? Carbon scoring’s worse than last time.'' She chatters a million miles a minute, pulling out some sort of electric scanner, assessing the old gunship. 

“We had a long trip,” he sighs, hands fisted on his hips as he watches her impatiently, turning his gaze back to your face every few moments. You want to bare your teeth at him in a snarl and tell him to stop fucking worrying. You want him to take you into his arms or hold your hand. 

“Long trip, sure. That’s what he always says,” she tells you over her shoulder with a roll of her eyes. “Turns out it’s usually a gun fight or something just as idiotic.”

You snicker, enjoying the easy way she handles your Mandalorian’s surliness, grateful for the cheerful buffer she provides between your own internal angst and his overzealous worrying. “It was a long trip this time, I swear. We’re coming from the Core,” he grumbles, and the two of you follow her while she inspects the damage on the ship, and in a moment of bravery or desperation for normalcy or closeness or just him, you reach up to grip two of his thick fingers in your fist. His hand immediately adjusts and curves to wrap around yours, intertwining your fingers and taking you securely in his grip. You feel him turn to look down at you questioningly, but you refuse to look back. This is normal, this is how it should be, this is what feels right even if you need the barrier of his gloves to feel like you can breathe. 

“The Core! Long way’s.” Hmm, she muses as she goes. “Got a fuel leak.” Again. He huffs. “Taking a vacation now?” She turns back with another smarmy smirk. 

“Something like that.”

“Nice little honeymoon?” She teases. “I could use one of those myself.” She scans something else, and the pit droids chatter and chirp around her, almost full her height, she’s so small. 

“Peli–” he grumbles. Your grumpy, shy boy; you wonder if he ever blushes under that thing, squeezing his hand in yours as tight as you can. 

“Yeah, yeah. No droids, I know. When are you gonna get over that nonsense, huh Mando? It’s about time, you know!” She bends to inspect something closer near the landing gear, covered in carbon scoring here too, examines her scanner again, then clips it back to her utility belt. “Alright, here’s the deal–” But he cuts her off, pivoting while pulling his blaster in one fluid motion to shoot at a poor little droid that's gotten too close. “Hey! Hey! What’ve I said before? You damage one of my droids, you’ll pay for it!” She shouts. 

“Din–” you scold, gripping the thick of his arm to pull the weapon down. 

“What’ve I told you?” He barks. 

“No droids. No droids. Blah, blah. You have got to get over that! I’m tryn’a make a deal with you here, ya womp rat.”

He jerks aggressively towards another little droid that wanders too close, sending it skittering away in terror, and you pinch his arm beneath the thick duraweave, frowning up at him, be nice, when he looks down at you, giving him a jut of your eyebrow and thrusting your chin at Peli. He groans, cursing low and grumpy in Mando’a. “Fine. What’s the deal?”

“If you let them work on the Crest–” She jerks her chin at the little pit droids quivering behind the crates strewn about the hangar in abject terror of the mean Mandalorian. 

“No,” he cuts her off, stubbornness in every line of his frame. 

“Din!” You scold again, bumping your hip into his. 

“Come on, Mando! I’ll charge you half price–”

“Deal,” he cuts her off again immediately, the cheapskate. 

“Ha!” She hoots and claps loudly. “Droids! Get to work on this lovely man’s ship. Lemme see the cash.” She holds out a grubby palm, wiggling her fingers. “He’s pretty easy, you ever notice that?” She says to you conspiratorially. 

“Constantly,” you can’t help the laugh in your voice. Your first laugh in what seems like years. 

“Loose knickered is what they used to call it back in my day.” And you have to turn your face into his arm to muffle your cackling, listening to him start up another string of curses beneath the helmet.

“I’ve literally never heard anyone say that before, ever,” he mutters sullenly. 

“Well, you’re young.”

“Not that young,” you provide helpfully, big cheesy smile that feels slightly unnatural and rusted spreading across your face. 

“Whoopee, Mando! I like this one! You really do know how to pick ‘em.” She claps him roughly on the shoulder, her little paw slapping loudly against his pauldron. “Anyway, I’ve got somewhere to be for the next couple of days, you see. I’m dating that Jawa again—the one I’d told you about,” she announces, proud as anything, big smile across her leathery face.

“A Jawa?” You repeat, making sure you heard right. 

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, bright eyes. They’re quite furry… very furry, but…” She clicks her teeth together, “You know…” Grins. 

You look up at Din, squeezing his arm in your grip. “Guess I gotta try it.” You’re pretty sure you hear him grumble something to the effect of over my dead body, before he’s agreeing to Peli’s deal with a clap and a shake, and the promise of two hundred and fifty Imperial credits and absolutely no harm done to her droids while she’s gone and they work on the Crest. 

“Treadwell, get in there!” She shouts, and the little pit droid chirps fretfully, trembling behind an R5 unit. “You can’t say no, you’re a droid. Oh, he’s not going to shoot you. Stop being a coward! What is this, a democracy all of a sudden?” Losing the fight, the droid wheels forward to get to work. “Yeah, thought so.” She turns back to you and Din. “You two can stay here, look after the shop while I’m gone? It’ll only be a few days.”

“We have some resupplying to do, but we’ll stay until you’re back,” he promises.

“And you’re not going to shoot my droids?”

“And I’m not going to shoot your droids,” he agrees, but later, you catch the too rough nudge he gives one of the little droids with his boot when he thinks no one’s watching. This man and his droid complex, you roll your eyes. 

“How’s the N-1 keeping up?” He asks as she’s packing up to go. 

“Just how you left her. That honey’s faster than a fathier. You should take her out while you’re here, give that baby a spin. Oh! And I added that turbonic venturi power assimilator I’d mentioned before. Remember? S’how I reconnected with my Jawa,” she nudges you with a wink. “You’re gonna be the fastest ship on the Outer Rim.” 

“You got a new ship?” You ask curiously.

“Just a side project we took up while I had some spare time.” But the way he says it is a little strange, making you pause to look up and try to read the blank face of his helmet. Ah, and he smooths that same hovering hand from before along the line of your spine, an attempt to soothe or quell your curiosity without actually giving you the gift of his touch.  

Peli leaves a few hours later, and she really does have a Jawa lover. The little critter comes to collect her right before the suns set, off to catch the sandcrawler before it journeys off into the desert, leaving you alone with only Din and the little pit droids for company. 

And suddenly, that shyness from earlier is back for some reason. The distraction of travel and the buzz of hyperspace lost to the calm silence of the quiet spaceport as the suns set over the horizon and night settles in, cool winds coming in on the sand gusts from deep in the desert. After hours of work, Din posing as the menacing overlord barking orders and complaints, intruding on their work when it isn’t up to his ridiculous standards, the droids finish up for the night, and Din engages the hangar security system, and then the ship’s, locking the two of you in safely for the night. 

“Dinner?” He asks as he moves slowly around the hull, pulling the cloak from his shoulders, a river of sand sluicing in a rain sheet onto the steel floor. The sound of it has a shiver moving through you as you lower yourself to the floor, crossing your legs beneath you at the edge of your makeshift bed. You desperately want to crawl between the covers without a shower and find the peace of evasion through sleep, secure in the knowledge that he won’t follow you into bed. He’d refused since you’d reunited, even though you’d invited him several times to share the much more comfortable pile of blankets than what you know his pilot’s chair or bunk provide. He’d not taken you up on the offer yet, and right now, fluttering heart and hot eyes and sweating nape, you’re glad for it. 

You don’t know what’s wrong with you—or you do. You’re overwhelmed with want and fear, of him, of his touch, of having lost what the two of you had before. And as you watch him start to pull his armor from his body, first one pauldron, then a vambrace, then a thigh guard, no sense of congruity to the pattern with which he divests himself of his Creed, it’s suddenly like he’s standing right in front of you, and yet you miss him anyway. Miss him in a way that makes you sick and devastated. 

You must make some sort of sound, a funny look on your face or a change in your breathing because he turns suddenly, a too worried, “What’s wrong?” on his tongue. 

“Nothing.” You look up at him from your spot on the ground, head falling back on your neck, and you can feel the wet of your eyes, trying to force yourself not to blink so that they won’t fall—the tears. “Nothing’s wrong.”

He comes to a slow crouch before you, long legs folding down, down. “What is it? Tell me.” Half missing his armor as he poses now, it’s like he’s half him, half yours, half only-man, half Mandalorian. A little bit like what you feel yourself; half, half, half. 

Pulling one glove from his hand, he lifts it, palm spread towards you, showing you his intention before he carefully cups the side of your face; thumb at your pulse, pointer and middle fingers giving your temple a soft pressure, pinky poised at the bridge of your nose. Your lashes brush against his index every time you blink, and his skin is smooth and rough at the same time, and warm—sun-hearted man. 

You press your face harder into his palm, letting him support the weight of your head, nuzzling against the rough of his calluses, blaster blister scratchy against your carotid, and heat pulses all through you from the crown of your head, sliding down the length of your, still yet, too long hair, the back of your neck, your chest, pooling to settle deep in the pit of your belly. 

And yet there’s something missing or different or off, like you feel empty but too full of trepidation to conjure up that old desire you’d always had, that need for him to fill, fill, fill you. Like the heat is there, but it’s remembered, not necessarily present. It all makes you want to cry and scream and go to sleep. 

The truth, and plainly: you’re terrified of anything that might hurt, can’t fathom the idea of it. 

Your heart beats in your throat, you taste it on your tongue, and it mixes with the sad when you say: “Do you remember when we were on Kashyyyk—when we sparred?”

“I remember,” he says, voice deep and low—through the modulator. You hate his helmet. You wish you could get beneath. You wish you were brave enough. The feeling of it coming on sudden and unexpected, thought, bitter and foul and not something you’d necessarily felt before, certainly not so viciously. It’s just that you hate that all this has happened—you want to feel the press of his lips at the crown of your head and the wash of his breath like heat moving through your hair—that you are not in the same place you once were, that you’re too afraid to move forward. 

“When we switched weapons—”

He hums: “Yes.”

“It was so green there.” You turn your face further into him so that you’re speaking into his palm now, words pooling there in the cup of it like a well of truths and fears. 

“It was.” The pointer and index stroke your temple, press once, twice, thrice—harder on the latter. It feels good, it feels real and reminding. He lets a heavy silence pass for a moment, he’s thinking of something, contemplating a push. “Do you remember—” He passes a swallow you can hear the thickness of, “Do you remember how I had you in the dirt—like a fucking animal? How you let me do whatever I wanted, however I wanted.” He gives the hardest press he’s given yet, at your temple, you think you feel the press against your brain, and you open your mouth to let the edge of your teeth dig hard into the meat of his palm. He growls a rough sound, a hungry sound, a sound like one he’d have made when he had you in the dirt like a fucking animal. 

You drag your teeth along the hill of his palm, closing your mouth at the end. You don’t give him the wet of your tongue, you don’t feel ready to taste his skin like that just yet—an assimilation of violence.

“Yes,” you finally say, realizing that he understands what you were thinking without having to say it, or knowing how to, that you’re full of memories of past desires and how badly you want them back and how out of reach that all feels, but also, that suddenly now, in a single blink, the heat in your belly isn’t remembered, but present, alive, awake. That you’re cunt clenches once, twice, thrice around nothing—harder, hungrier on the latter. That you’re wet for him. “I remember.”

“Good. I remember every single thing we’ve ever done.” You roll your face in his palm so that you can look up at him now, feeling something like brave. “Every word, every breath, I remember all of it. Alright?”

“Alright,” you say quietly. 

“And if you need me to help you remember too, then I will.”

“Alright.” And then: “What if I can’t, though?... What if we can’t ever have that again? What if I can’t remember? What if I can never give you that again?” A tear slides over the bridge of your nose, and now it’s not only truths and fears cupped in the palm of his hand but the saltwater of grief too.  

“Then we’ll find something new. A new way, a different way. We’ll do it however you want now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, cyar’ika.” It’s very much a promise, a new Creed being established here. 

“Okay.”

He nods, “Okay.”

-

The water is warm verging on hot verging on scalding. It feels incredible slithering over your tired and sore muscles, the ligatures in your arms still trembling from the blaster practice earlier today, from your overwhelm of emotions. 

You hate that you’re not good at it, that the only weapon that seems to become you is a lightsaber. 

The suds of his earthy smelling soap slide through your hair, slipping down your spine, over your ass and along your legs to pool around your feet and disappear down the drain. You shiver once, as though letting something fall away as you slide your hand down, over the swell of your belly, to cup the palmful of your cunt, wedging your hand between your thighs. You pet slowly at the wet curls there, realizing some of it is also the sticky slick of your desire. You were right, you’re wet for him and your clit pulses, slightly swollen and wanting. Your body is awake and hungry for him for the first time in what feels like eons. 

You explore slowly, your cunt slightly trembling at the feeling of being prodded and touched for the first time in you can’t remember how long. Moaning softly, you pull your fingers from between your legs, hands sliding up now to cup the weights of your breasts in each palm and squeeze tightly. Oh, you want him, you want him, you’re afraid. Your head falls back on a thump against the fresher wall, loud enough that you hear his lurking voice through the door, you okay in there? And instead of being annoyed at his overbearing caution, his hovering, you shiver again, something coming back to you now. 

Your desire. 

You shut the water off, grabbing one of the soft linens he’d slung over the warm pipe for you to wrap yourself in. He knocks a knuckle against the wobbly little door, “Cyar’ika?” 

Looking at yourself in front of the steamy mirror, too long, naiad hair, bright, strange eyes, you want him, you want him, you want to feel alive, awake, anything. You can’t deny your shortcomings, fears, whatever they might be called, but there is yet still a soft place inside of you that they’d not snuffed out, that wants Din still. 

You turn to slide the fresher door open just as he’s readying to knock again. 

He’d showered before you, after he’d fed you your soup and your disgusting fake bread he’d promised he’d find a real substitution for soon enough, and you’d needed a moment alone to sit in your grime and silence, digest your feelings. He’s clad now in one of his soft, dark undershirts, his flight pants and the helmet, opposite your towel and water dewed skin, steaming from the hot fresher. 

You watch a swallow pass through his throat, words caught, slow and heavy. He clears it once, twice, tilts his head down to take in the state of you, before he says, “You alright?”

You nod, wide eyed awake. He’s standing right in front of you and you miss him and you want to shock him wide eyed awake too. “The water was too hot. I got dizzy,” you lie, swaying towards him a little, letting your lashes flutter dramatically. 

Not all the way, but enough, just a little, as much as you can bear, that’s what you want from him right now. 

His hands come up to grip the sides of your arms immediately, his bare hands, soaking up the wet of your skin. He pulls you into himself, pressing you carefully against his chest, and you shiver and shake against him, teeth rattling with a sound entirely lacking temperance. Your blood feels like it’s boiling, there’s desire alive and writhing in your tummy, and you squeeze your thighs together tightly, shifting from one foot to another while you drip a puddle onto the cold floor. 

“Come here, sit down,” he murmurs, gently moving you to your bed, easing you down onto it slowly. “You need to take it easy,” he clucks over you, gripping your elbow to let you down carefully, keeping his hands on your bare skin until the last moment. “You’re pushing yourself too hard. You’re still tired, you’re still recovering. And you never listen. You have to listen to me when I’m trying to take care of you. You don’t eat enough, and I know your shoulder still hurts, little liar. Your elbow is barely better, and I saw you making strange faces when you were walking up the plank the other day. Your hip hurts doesn't it? Or your knee, something. No, don’t answer. I know you’ll just say no.” He talks and talks and talks, and you love him and you think that— 

There’s a name for this…

He’d told you he loved you and he’d not said it again, neither had you, it felt too huge a thing to talk about again just yet while there was still so much left to discuss and bridge, but what does it matter if your body sings or screams in pain when you have the love of this beskar titan? What could you care for all the rest of everything?

Yes, Din. Yes, Din. Whatever you say, Din, as he huffs and puffs and arranges you, brings another pillow and blanket from the bunk, his only one in there, not that he cares, lovely man. 

And it’s not only that you feel like you need to give him the things he wants or needs, because of course you do. You love him, you need to be able to give him things, everything, you want to be able to give him the whole galaxy. But it’s also that you want to. That to give him what he desires is to feed yourself, to live together, to be together, to give each other the things you need to stay alive. 

You let yourself fall back onto the soft blankets slowly, this nest where you’ve always felt so safe and so protected and so loved, even when neither of you knew it was love that was holding you here. And you watch him for a few anxious moments as he pulls the covers this way and that, tucking them here and there, trying to avoid looking at the bare expanse of your dew damp legs. But then, taking hold of his hand, you still his nervous movements, and he finally looks up at your face, letting go of his fretting, taking hold of the bravery in the palm of your hand. 

Shy—but brave. Brave—and wanting. 

“We’ll take care of each other, won’t we?” You want to tell him you love him again, but there’s something slightly terrifying, gloriously intimate and fragile about the words. 

“Always.”

“And we’ll keep each other alive?” Maker, I hope we keep each other alive. 

“Yes.”

You take hold of the edge of the linen covering you, revealing your naked body to him slowly, exposing your soft underbelly. You hear his breath hitch, exhale on a groan that sounds like dying. His grip on your hand goes tight to the point of bone crushing pain for one brief, brief moment before he remembers himself and gentles again. You shiver at the pain, belly swooping and quivering with fear and nausea and lust. 

You wish you could see his eyes, his face, his want. 

“You—” he stutters, swallows, “You don’t have to, my love.” My love. He doesn’t need to say it out loud again now with teeth and tongue, he says it in all the things he does. 

“You have to know that I want you so much. That I want you more than anything, Din.”

“I do know,” he says immediately. “I’ve never doubted that.” 

“I want to show you.”

“You don’t have to. I know—” His other hand comes up to grip yours with both of his, caging your limb within the strength of his fists—to keep himself from touching you anywhere else, you think. But you can feel the intensity of his gaze along your skin, over your bare breasts, quivering with your hitching breaths, water droplets translating the frantic beat of your heart in their trembling on the surface of your skin. The line of your belly, the slope downward to the soft place between your thighs. 

He’d seen the scarring on your hand, it was inevitable as much as you’d wished you could hide the deformity they’d left. As much as you wish you could’ve kept it from him, held an illusion for the rest of your lives together to spare him from the reminder of the things that’d been done, happened, chosen. But now… now he is to be subjected to the whole truth of it. Scars like cobwebs, strangely shimmering in silver lights beneath the surface of your skin—they’d been clever and ingenious in their torture—covering the whole circumference of your left hand up to your elbow. But also, from the lowest point of your last rib, over your right hip, traversing lower down the contours of your skin to wrap around the uppermost swell of your thigh. 

They’d left their mark like they’d intended, and it wasn't something you could ever hide from him, the reality of what’d been done, what you’d chosen. It was obvious in everything, etched into your skin, a chasm in the still present distance between the two of you. 

You feel like a bruise; tender, vulnerable, incongruously desperate to press on it harder and feel that dull throb, dark and ugly and on display. 

His hands go tight around yours again for a moment, before he’s snatching them back to grip his bent knee, white knuckled, silent anger on display when his eyes reach the scarring. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper, smoothing a hand over your hip down to your thigh to grip yourself there, digging your fingertips lightly into the plush softness. Your skin vibrates. “It doesn't hurt now.”

“What did they do?” His voice is like gravel, restrained fire-full fury. 

“They wanted to see what it’d take to leave a mark. They figured it out.” The helmet turns away sharply, a short, brutal curse spit from his mouth. The tongue of his mother, beautiful despite his violence. 

“It’s okay, Din.” You take hold of your thigh, pulling it up and apart, spreading yourself for him. Brave, wanting heart, be brave. He turns back immediately. “I want you to see how much I want you,” you whisper. “How much I still need you.” 

You let your fingertips flutter lightly over your swollen, needy sex, and you can hear the obscene, sucking sound of your wet lips spreading apart when you part your legs wide enough for your sex to bloom. Cunt hungry and weeping for him. 

Fuck, he spits, leaning closer, and his hand snaps forward to grip your ankle all the way around, pulling your foot up onto the uncompromising muscle of his thigh—your only point of contact. 

“Show me, cyar’ika. Show me how much that pretty cunt missed me,” he growls. 

You start slow, wide eyes fixed on the dark tee of his vizor, fingertips swirling around your clit slowly, it pulses and throbs and beats to the rhythm you can feel his own heart beating at within his own chest. But you pet it slowly, teasing both of you, and then feel lower down to the clenching mouth of your cunt—fuck, he spits again—slicking your fingers in your sticky wet. You start to rock your hips against the flat of your hand, the sound of your cunt, loud in the quiet hull, nothing to interrupt but the too desperate sound of your mutual panting. His fingers around your ankle are so tight they’ll leave a sore spot, and you can't think of the later hurt now, afraid it'll scare you out of this, all you can focus on is the beat of your cunt, the way it cries for him. 

You swirl your fingertips at your opening, again, again, “Put them inside. Let me see you fuck yourself.” And it’s a demand. 

You start with one, slow and tentative, a little, shocked gasp as you probe shallowly within the tight, little hole. Then further, wiggling inside until you’re impaling yourself with your own small finger, the first thing inside of you in so long, and suddenly, you wish it was him. Your eyes fill with tears at the thought, spilling over at the wish that he could’ve been the first thing inside of you after all this time, but the reality that you’re just not ready for it yet. The salted proof of your inevitable shortcomings slide back along your cheeks to drip into your ears. 

“Another,” he demands. “Oh, it sounds so pretty, little one. Give it another.” You pull your single finger out, sucking, wet-cunt sound that he groans in tune with, to press another one in, mewling at the pinch and stretch of it, the slick slide. Yes, just like that. You’re doing so well, he says, a mirror of his earlier words to you today during target practice. “Roll your hips, ride your hand.” You hitch another sob, “Don’t fucking cry,” he grits, pressing your heel hard into the meat of his thigh. “Don’t cry, don’t cry. You’re going to come for me, you’re going to let me see it.” He spreads his thighs wider in his kneeling crouch, pushing his hips forward into nothing, drawing your gaze to the heavy bulge behind the plaquette of his flight pants. He’s so hard. 

You crook your fingers inside yourself, hill of your palm against the swell of your engorged clit, fingertips against the spongey ridge at the front of your cunt, rolling your hips faster, chasing the orgasm you need to give him. Your foot feels numb in his grip, your cunt, on fire, so tight it hurts. Your belly hitches and heaves, open mouth gasping and you cry his name, moaning and writhing wantonly, your stomach slick and glistening again with sweat now instead of water. One of your palms reaches up to take hold of your breast, nipple caught between your fingers, squeezing tight, tight, tight. And suddenly he’s surging forward, letting go of your ankle to lean over you and rip his pants open, freeing his furious erection. The tip is red-purple and swollen fat, drooling a thick string of sloppy, white precum, and he wraps one massive fist around the angry thing. Din, Din, Din. He beats at his cock furiously, the sound of your name, the slick thwack, thwack, thwack of it sends you spilling into your orgasm, belly pulling tight, cunt twisting even tighter. 

“Fuck, fucking come—fucking come,” he snarls as he twists his fist cruelly around the head and the thick white viscosity of his semen starts to spill from the fat head, bubbling up and over his fist and between his fingers, splattering heavy and hot onto your spasming cunt, coating your fingers so that you’re pushing the thick of his come into yourself, slicking you further. “Yes, yes, yes, like that. Let me fucking see it…Look at what you do to me.” And there's so much furious want in his voice, and he’s so big, long and thick, and you know it’s going to hurt when he puts it inside of you for the first time again—you remember how it hurt before, how you loved it—and you’re afraid you’re not going to be able to handle any sort of pain ever again, not even the sort you’d been so hungry for before. 

But your womb pulls tight, pulses and throbs, and suddenly your two skinny fingers arent enough, you want the thick heft of his cock fucking hard and fast and deep inside of you, punching at the deepest spot within you.

His orgasm ends on a fierce groan, panting, thick chest heaving, his head hangs low between his shoulders. You pull your shaking fingers from your clenching hole, and he gives a few last lazy strokes, squeezing the last drops of come from the slick tip to splatter against your pussy. “I fucking missed this—your cunt covered in me.” His dripping cock bobs so close, and you have the sudden insane thought of him just shoving it in, holding you down prone and fucking all of his spend into your sloppy cunt, forcing you to take it and be his again. “I can’t wait to eat it. I can’t wait to fill it with my come again and eat it out of you.” There’s a part of you that might want it, that might wish for it. 

“Maker, Din…” you moan, rubbing the thick semen into your overstimulated clit, your mound, up the curve of your belly, slicking yourself in him.

 If you can’t have his touch, this is enough, and you bring your sticky, soaking fingers up to your mouth, sucking the come from them. He groans, not fair, sitting back on his knees, spent cock hanging obscenely from his open pants, wet and glistening. He reaches behind his head to tug his shirt up and off, leaving his sweaty chest bare and gleaming. Your eyes flutter shut, cupping your cunt in the palm of your hand, covering the slick curve of it, and you arch your back, spreading your thighs further, putting yourself on display for him. 

“Gorgeous, cyar’ika,” he says between pants. “So pretty, my love.” He reaches down to squeeze his half hard cock once more. “I can be patient for you, I promise. You’re so worth it.”

-

He lays beside you in the dark, stretched out long and entirely clothed, but here with you, forced and convinced to share your bed with a line of pillows as a protective moat between the two of you at his own insistence.

You’re on your side, hands folded beneath your smushed cheek, wide eyes searching fruitlessly for the shape of him in the pitch dark. You want to say something else. You want to tell him you love him again, to hear the words fall from your tongue. 

“What are you thinking?” He asks.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.” You hum a barely breathed laugh. And then, “I know you’re scared or regretful or worried that we’ll not get back to where we were,” he reads you.

“Yes.”

There’s a name for this…

He sighs long, goes quiet for longer, and then finally: “What’s happened’s happened, which is an expression of faith in the mechanics of the galaxy.”

“Fate?” You muse, a little unbelieving.

Dark red—

“Call it what you want. We met, we separated…you were—gone. We waited. Now we’re here again. It’s meaningful, isn’t it?”

“Yes. You believe in this—fate?” I didn’t think I believed in anything anymore. But I believe in you.

“Call it what you want, but yes.”

—String. 

There’s something about this that you need to consider, chew on. The fact that you’d felt, all your life, cursed to know how a thing would happen, be, end, always. Something like fate, perhaps, the whisper of it making a home for itself within the shell of your ear, and now the truth that he too believes in this thing you’ve always lived with. Destiny, what have you—you believe in the same things, you believe in each other. 

“Will you hold my hand?”

He turns over, reaching to twine his fingers through yours; large, rough palm against small, soft palm. You want to tell him you love him again, you want to hear the words for him, but they feel trapped, tender, timid. 

You’d always thought your destiny fixed, poised, on the tip of your tongue. A thing was what it was birthed unto the galaxy in perpetuity, and no amount of desire could absolve you of its sunken teeth. But this—this desire is like the creation of myth, that dark red thread that goes by the name of fate being pulled taught, humming in accord with a frequency heard only by the two of you. 

Now: “Will you kiss me?” A beat of silence, his fingers around yours going tight, tight. 

“Come here,” his voice blends with the darkness, and tugging you into himself, protective border between your bodies and his hand around your jaw, he slips a kiss onto your tongue. His mouth holds the hot recollection of being alive; the drag of his teeth against your bottom lip, the taste, your fingers weaving through his hair, your names sounding together, a pair because they belong on the same breath. 

You pull back, and it’s only a small brevity, but it’s enough, and that confusion from earlier, that shiver of letting something go or taking it back into yourself, settles. 

You’re afraid or regretful or both, yes, sure. You also find yourself to be, suddenly, forgiving, full of empathy. You won’t be able to have him unless you take possession of yourself first, and on the tail end of a comet breaking across the sky: I love him, but I must also love myself. He deserves someone who loves themself, but more than that, I deserve it too. To be able to give him the things he wants and needs: I deserve to be in love with myself. 

You let the Tartarian memory become nothing.

 Love manifests itself primarily in forgiveness.

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#TCC fic #din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin smut #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x reader

[cyberg4n]

✧ 𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄

paring: earth1610 miles x gn!reader

warnings: hurt, discomfort, crying, angst maybe idk, not proofread

a/n: pretend like miles never got abducted by his evil twin💀 my little snookums has been through hell and back

summary: miles comes to you, seeking your warmth and comfort.

you get into bed, pulling the blankets over your legs. before you slide under your sheets, you open your phone up — tapping on miles’ messages.

miles, please call me or text me. i’m really worried. why aren’t you answering????

you rub your temples, slowly feeling yourself heat up thinking about what might have happened to him. the last time you heard from him was when he told you he would be going away for a bit — due to “spider-man duties.” you didn’t think much of it because he always went on patrol. but the moment he had left, you realized something was off. it was a gut feeling. you stopped by his parents house, wondering if they could give you answers. but they said they hadn’t heard a word from him since. you even chased down ganke to ask him about it, but like the others — he said he didn’t know. now, you’re sitting in your bed, panicking.

you called his phone again, silently begging for him to pick up. you lay your head back on your wall, sighing. you take one last glimpse of your texts before turning your phone off. you look out your window, watching as the night slowly passes by. you hug your legs up to your chest, resting your head on your knees. for a minute, you just think of every different possible outcome that could’ve happened to miles, if he was hurt, dead, or alive. you exhale, tucking yourself back under your covers — reaching over to switch your lamp off. you lay back down, looking up at the ceiling. you closed your eyes, forcing yourself to sleep, but you couldn’t. you groan in frustration as you grab your laptop, deciding it was a better idea to watch a movie instead.

after a few minutes, you feel yourself drifting off to the quiet chatter from your laptop. you blink, waking yourself back up again — but your eyelids were too heavy. before you can fall back asleep, a loud thud is heard outside your window. you sit up, listening to the noise. silence. you shake your head, thinking it’s the sleep that’s getting to you. you close your laptop, placing it to the side before pulling up your blanket to your body. you toss to your side, closing your eyes. you hear faint thumping come from outside, but you brush it off. you hear something hit your window, before someone climbs in. you turn quickly, looking down on the floor. miles. you gasp, hurriedly kneeling on the ground. miles lays on your floor, out of breathe, his suit slightly ripped.

you reach over to him, shaking him. “miles?” you whisper. he opens his eyes, almost sobbing as soon as he saw you. he grabs you by your wrist, pulling you into his chest. he hugs you tightly as if you’re going to leave him. he breathes you in, kissing your face. “i’m so sorry,” he cries out. you pull away, a worried expression on your face. he sits up, leaning against your bed. “i’m so sorry i left you,” he pulls you in for a hug again. you hold on his shoulder for support when you look at his face. he looked tired. horribly tired. you could see dark circles around his eyes, and his grasp on you felt almost weak. his hands stayed on your waist, just crying into your neck. “miles, miles, tell me what happened. where did you go this whole time?” your breathe shakes with every word you mutter. he shakes his head, putting his hand on his forehead.

“i thought they wanted me,” he mumbles, his lip quivers. “but they lied to me, all of them. they—” he stammers, crying into his hands. you frown, holding him. although you didn’t quite understand the situation he was trying to describe, you understood how he was feeling. he buries his face into your neck, letting all his emotions out. you sit there on the floor with him, listening to him ramble about how they didn’t want him, how they all just had tricked him. he explains to you that he was an anomaly, a mistake — but you defend him, trying to reassuring him that he’s not. “miles, you’re the greatest thing that has happened to me. whatever those fuckers said about you, just— just screw them, okay?” he looks up at you, his eyes glossy. he sniffles, biting back another sob. “i don’t know what to do.” you tilt your head, “what do you mean?” you look at him, pleading for an answer. “i wasn’t supposed to be bitten by that spider.”

you scoff, eyes wide. “what are you talking about?” miles grabs your hand, wrapping it around his. “i’m a nobody, y/n. i don’t know if i can keep doing this.” he rasps out. you shake your head lightly. “what are you talking about?” he looks down in his lap, all the color had drained from his face, he looked like a ghost. “i can’t keep being spiderman if i was a mistake.” you mutter out a soft “no,” before grabbing his face, wiping away his tears. “it doesn’t matter what they said. who the hell are they to be telling you that you can’t be spiderman?” he doesn’t respond. he just stares down at his hands. “brooklyn needs you, your parents need you. i need you.”

he sniffles, leaning back into your neck, closing his eyes — just enjoying your warmth. you cradle him, letting him doze off in your arms.

please do not copy or repost my writings to any other sites !

#spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #atsv #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse x you #miles morales fluff

[marksbear]

So I don’t know if you still take commissions (even though it literally says it’s open by the time I’m typing this lmao) but I was thinking of Ghost from COD modern warfare 2 with male reader who is mute? Also male reader is like a total sweetheart, pretty shy.

Maybe it’s winter and Ghost invites his friends to his house for dinner for some reason (maybe male reader wanted to meet them but ghost said no cause he wanted privacy) , and on the car ride there Ghost accidentally mentions his househusband which suprised the team since he never talked about him. (Let alone he was into guys)

Ghost says that he wanted their marriage to be private and makes a quick recap of what male reader is like, who is a photographer and has 3 Barbie dolls (I like Barbie dolls don’t judge me 😂) and gave them their own personalities and stuff on social media to look like they’re traveling the world.

They reached home, male reader welcomes them and quickly heads to the kitchen cause he’s making the food. The crew all sit at the table eating (the food is delicious) and Soap asks how they met and Ghost just says that it’s pretty boring.

Idk what happens next, (maybe they play a board game? Or they continue chatting with Ghost and male reader, ur pick) but after that the crew stays for the night and Ghost and male reader sleep together.

(Also, small detail, male reader is wearing a sweater and sweatpants)

thank u for your time

This has to be one of the cutest requests I've had in a while! Ngl. The barbie doll part honestly took me out.

SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X MUTE photographer MALE READER

Finally winter break in task force 141 arrived. It's one of the few times they get off for holidays and to be with family.

So the team made a tradition. The first day of the break everyone takes turns to take the team to their home for dinner, since it maybe the last time they'll see each other in a while.

This time around it's Simon's turn.

At first Ghost didn't want to be the host. He didn't want the team all up in his personal business. Simon already had an excuse in mind as to why he couldn't host, but sadly his husband found out about the tradition and begged Ghost to meet them.

But the cold hearted man said no at first, but his husband had convinced him to host.

So this leads into now.

Ghost was driving to his house with Price in the passenger seat while the others were in the backseats. The car was blasted with loud music because of Gaz. and conversation.

"Hey Simon!--" Soap shouts trying to catch the male attention. But sadly the music went over his words. "Ghooost!~" Gaz drags out as well. The pair try over and over again trying to catch Ghost.

Soap taps Price on his shoulder. Price turns his head to the side looking at Soap. Soap signals with his hands to turn down the radio even using his hand as an example. The captain immediately understands and turns his head back around facing the radio and turning it down.

"Fuckin hell finally. Ghost!" Soap says finally being able to hear himself. Simon hums in response.

"You got anything or anyone at home? Like dogs, cats..." Soap trails off with Gaz finishing the question. "Secret girlfriends?" Ghost lets out a groan and an eye roll.

"No Johnny. I have no one there." Ghost says clearing lying shooting down the question.

The car grows silent with only soft music playing in the background.

"Any kids? Since theres a little barbie back here with brand new packaging." Gaz points out picking up the box. "Don't tell me you play with dolls L.t?" Soap teases with a smirk.

"No. I don't have any kids. And the box is a gift for my husband..." Simon trails off as realization slowly sets in.

Price eyebrow raises looking away from the window and to the soldier next to him. "You liar!" Soap shouts point his finger at Simon. "Husband?" Price repeats looking at Simon. "You like guys!?!" Gaz says looking around wide eyed.

"Fucks sake." Simon says slapping himself mentally.

"Well who is he!?!"

"What is he like??

"What's his job?"

"Does he treat you right?"

"Why didn't you tell us about him!!"

Question after question comes from the group.

"I wanted our marriage to be private. It's none of y'all's business about me and my husband's love life. But i'll only give you a small recap about him, but that's it..." Simon breathes out with his tone full with annoyance.

"His name is Y/n L/n. He's a mute photographer with three barbie dolls he gave their own personalities and background stories with verified social media accountants about what's going on with their lives. Like them traveling the world, their boyfriends, mental health updates and so on. The girls names are (___) (____) and my favorite (___)"

Simon says getting his phone and goes to one of the dolls social media accounts clicking on the newest photo of the girl and shows his team.

The picture is (____) looking outside the window looking for someone while the other girls are trying to confused in the background.

The caption read:

"(____) waiting for her husband to come home from the military."

After everyone sees it Simon takes his phone back and likes the post.

After a few more miles Simon sees his house in a couple more feet away. "Were here." Simon says waking up Gaz. Simon parks the car in the driveway and turns the car off.

Ghost looks in the backseat snatching the brand new toy from Gaz's hands before leaving the car with the team following close behind him.

"Don't make me regret taking y'all here." Ghost breathes out mostly talking about Soap and Gaz.

Before Ghost could unlock the door, the door swings open.

A pair of arms wrap around Ghost's body hugging him tight. Almost causing Simon to fall.

Insistingly Simon wraps his arms around his husband back hugging him tight bringing him closer. "I miss you too..." Simon says into the crook of Y/n's neck.

Y/n is first to pull away before giving Simon a quick kiss on Simon's covered lips. Y/n's head looks over Simon's shoulder looking at the men behind him.

Y/n gives them a bright wave before walking back inside the house.

Soap and Gaz lets out a few giggles thats quickly shushed by Price glaring at them.

"Well don't just keep standin there cmon." Simon groans out walking inside the house leading them into the dinning room.

TIMESKIP

After Simon gets the team all settled down in the dinning room he walks to the kitchen holding his husband's gift behind his back. "Y/n love, come here." Simon says looking at him.

Y/n turns his head to his husband and stops from what he was doing and walks over to Simon looking at him confused.

"Here. For you and the girls." Simon says showing the brand new barbie to him. Simon watches his husband's eyes become filled with joy and ideas.

Y/n takes the box out of Simon's hands before using his free hand to pull down Simon's mask to kiss him deeply on the lips. Y/n kiss him over and over again as thank yous.

"Your welcome." Simon says against Y/n's lips.

"How about you go show the girls while I take over cooking." Simon suggests.

Y/n doesn't need to get told twice as he goes upstairs to the dolls "personal" room.

TIMESKIP

After the food was done cooking Y/n and Simon began to serve the team with food and drinks even Deseret. The whole team loved the food. (Even got Gaz asking for seconds)

As everyone is eating and talking about whatever Soap finds something to talk about.

"Where did you two meet." Soap asks looking at Ghost and his husband.

"It's pretty boring..." Simon answers trying to shoot down the question. "I bet it's not." Price voice rings out. "Trust me it is." "I don't believe you." Gaz says already planning to ask Y/n if Simon doesn't tell them.

"It's just pretty boring how we met. Nothing fancy or cute just boring." Simon says once again.

As the team begins to argue about wanting to know they don't notice Y/n with one of his dolls and his photography camera posing her at the dinner table taking pictures.

Y/n even got to sneak some pictures of her staring at Price with love in her eyes.

It isn't until a while Simon notices he wasn't paying his husband any attention. Simon looks to the left of him to only get met with a doll in his husband's seat looking at price.

"Y/n." Simon calls out looking at his husband taking her pictures. Y/n looks away from his camera looking at Simon with a smile.

Timeskip

Finally hours past everyone is ready for bed. Y/n takes each team member to a guest room signing them "goodnight" before finally going to his own room with his husband.

Y/n strips out of his clothes and into one of Simon's shirts and sweats before crawling into the bed.

After a while Simon comes inside the room after washing the dishes. Simon takes off his shirt pants putting on sweats as well before climbing into bed.

Simon wraps his arms around Y/n bringing him close.

"I love you." Simon whispers against Y/n. Y/n kiss Simon on the cheek responding with the same love.

THE END

#simon riley x male reader #ghost x male reader #ghost simon riley #mw2 x male reader #mw2 ghost #call of duty x male reader #call of duty #x male reader #x mute male reader #male reader #the bear club

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Idk bout you but I’m a sucker for possessive men, so I’d like to ask for some jealousy HCs for the JJK men. Thank uuuuuuu muah

My darling, I'd like nothing more than to give them to you 💜

Now Presenting...

Starring Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, and Ryomen Sukuna

Satoru Gojo

Gojo likes to think he’s not possessive at all. Key word: Think.

In reality, he’s deeply insecure, convinced he’s not good enough for you, and is obsessed, extremely concerned with not losing you.

This unholy concoction has led to an extremely possessive man.

Now, to be fair, He’s pretty good about keeping it in check. He’s not going to lose his mind cause he saw some asshole checking you out at the supermarket. He’s better than that.

Now, if said asshole tries to talk to you, that’s a completely different story. Then he’s literally grabbing you, arms around your waist and actively trying to give you a hickey while you talk to his new number one enemy.

And good fukin luck to you my friend if you call him out on it, cause now he’s convinced you liked that guy too.

Especially early on in your relationship, when he’s still guarded because he’s scared of getting hurt, he’s going to be straight up toxic about it. 

“No, it’s fine, really. If you like him so much, go talk to him. I just wanna know when you stopped caring about me.”

Honestly, you’re better off leaving him alone to let him work out his own shit. He’ll realize he was being an idiot, no doubt helped by the fact that you’re still here, but it’s gonna take 2 hours minimum. 

Gojo is not about to start a fight over some douche bag flirting with you. Mostly because he can not catch another a case. But that doesn’t mean he’s just going to sit by and let it happen, nay nay dear reader.

No, he’s just also going to also talk part in the conversation. Wrapping an arm around your waist and finding any excuse he can, no matter how weak, to drop the fact that he’s your boyfriend.

The exception being the moment the other person puts a hand on you. The moment that happens, all bets are off, and I hope you have bail money. He’s not going to murder them probably but you’re for sure going to be dealing with assault charges. 

Also, not to get NSFW, but the sex after? When He feels like he has to prove to himself he’s good enough for you and remind you that you belong to him? Good luck bestie.

Suguru Geto

This man is nothing but jealous all the time. If he had it his way, you would never leave the bedroom. . 

He’s quick to lay his claim on you. Holding you close to him and kissing you mid sentence so that whoever the person flirting with you is get’s the point. 

Afterwards though? On the way home? Silent treatment. When you do get him to talk?

“I just don’t understand. Why don’t you love me anymore?”

Yea, he’s gaslighting, gatekeeping, and girlbossing YOU into apologizing to HIM. 

I really can’t see this man as anything other than toxic, my god. 

Still, he doesn’t put up with anyone playing with his toys. If he sees you talking to anyone while out, he’s hugging you from behind, kissing your neck and loudly asking “Hey Darling, Who’s this?” 

That Who’s this is dripping in condescension and hatred. Because he does hate them. He hates anyone that could take you away from him.

Your friends are not immune to this btw. 

Slowly he starts to pull you away from your friends and integrate you into his friend group.

Not that he trusts them either. Nay nay, It’s just easier to keep an eye on you this way. 

He’s always reminding you that you’re his. Marking you, draping his jacket over you, conveniently forgetting to buy you more body wash so you have to use his, literally anything to get the point across that you were his. 

Like, this man has deemed himself your chair, cause if you're going to be together, he’s going to find any excuse he can to sit you on his lap.

Now, Suguru is not the type to get confrontational or physical. That being said, if you express that someone is making you uncomfortable, it's game over for them.

The upsides are: no silent treatment! Instead he’s dotting on you and himself apologetic for letting you be put into that situation.

The downside is now you have to clean blood off of him. Again, probably not murder, but for sure an assault charge.

Kento Nanami

Nanami honestly doesn’t have the time to get jealous. 

He trusts you more than anyone else. He has to to date you. So, he’s not normally worried about other people. 

If he starts to feel jealous, he’ll normally just talk to you about it.

Normally. 

The exception is when it comes to your friends. 

He’s not worried about any of them taking you away from him romantically, that thought has never crossed his mind. And for the most part, he likes your friends.

But he does get jealous of how much of your time you spend with them. And of course he doesn’t want to say anything because he knows it's ridiculous. 

But when he comes home from a long day of work to see you have your friends over, meaning he has to share you when his emotional capacity has already been filled? Yea, he's not happy.

And he doesn’t try to hide how possessive he feels in that moment either, he’s stealing your seat and placing you firmly on his lap for after work cuddles.

Oh, he’s embarrassing you in front of your friends? Oh well. Send them home then. 

He’s going to, discreetly,  kiss your neck, and rub your hips until you’re hot and bothered enough to send your friends home.

He just wants your time. It bugs him when other people preoccupy it, when he feels like you’re prioritizing other people over him. 

He can recognize that this is probably his most toxic trait, and he is working on it. 

But you’re still going to have to deal with him while he is

Ryomen Sukuna

Everyone else is an amature when it comes to being possessive/jealous Sukuna OWNS that shit

It’s literally his baseline. Other people can’t look at you without pissing off your guard dog.

He’s your guard dog btw. 

They don’t even have to be flirting! If someones talking to you, he is holding you close and actively glaring at them until they leave you alone.

And if they are flirting, well I hope they're cool with whatever god they worship. Cause they’re about to meet said god. 

Sukuna is insistent that you are his and his alone. It’s why he even takes the time to mark you up all pretty like he has. So other people can see that.

So if someones dumb enough to see your lovingly bruised neck and still flirt with you then as far as he’s concerned, he’s doing the gene pool a favor by taking them out of it. 

God forbid he thinks you’re into it. 

QUICK NSFW WARNING

He will slaughter your new toy and fuck you until you can’t walk in front of the corpse. You won't be able to walk for weeks if ever again from the punishing he’s going to put you through.

OK, NSFW OVER

Ideally, your best bet is to tell him the moment that you realize someone is flirting with you. Even if they’re not necessarily making you uncomfortable, better to keep your life than theirs, right? 

Hell, you might even get a reward for being so vigilant. 

Honestly I need to write an entire Yandere Sukuna fic cause he is made for it. He is THE most Yandere character.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #tw: toxic relationships #tw: toxic behavior #sukuna x reader #sukuna headcanons #gojo x reader #gojo headcanons #nanami x reader #nanami headcanons #geto x reader #geto headcanons #suguru geto #satoru gojo #ryomen sukuna #kento nanami #nanami kento

[floralpascal]

Hiii I love you work of Frankie <3 a request if you’re up for it, since I love your writing style and how you present him hehe

Something inspired by Billie’s Bossa Nova lines:

“You better lock your phone,

And look at me when we’re alone,

Won’t take a lot to get you going,

I’m sorry if it’s torture though,

I know I know”

Idk I see a shy Frankie and reader tilting his face towards her with her finger and whispering in his ear and sksksk go crazy please

You're an absolute genius for this idea! I love this song sooo much and my mind went wild with incorporating it into the story. I absolutely did not expect it to take this long or to write this much when I started. I also didn't expect this to turn into smut but here we are! I hope you like it!!

Bossa Nova

Summary: You and Frankie are both head-over-heels for each other... only neither of you realize the other is interested. When Santi sets you both up with mystery dates, you're both surprised to find that Santi has set you up with each other.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Word Count: 6.3k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Warnings: kissing, fingering, protected p-in-v sex, creampie

You shouldn’t have told Santi about it. You should’ve just kept your mouth shut. But how were you supposed to know that your vent session would lead to this?

The crux of the issue was that your dating life was beyond fruitless. Date after date, it always went the same. Either the spark wasn’t there, the conversation was as easy as pulling teeth, or the guy wouldn’t get off his damn phone long enough to genuinely interact with you. It had left you feeling more than a little frustrated. Had every good guy already been snatched up and now all you had to pick from were the leftovers? 

Or was it you? Was it the fact that the only guy you wanted to go on a date with was Santi’s best friend? You had been introduced to Frankie at one of Santi’s infamous cookouts. The same night that Santi had accidentally burnt your hamburgers to a crisp, you had met the sweetest man in the world. He had been quiet back then, the conversation a bit awkward. But after multiple nights out with Frankie, Santi, and the Miller brothers, you had slowly gotten to know Frankie better. And damn it he was driving you insane. Despite how down bad you were for him, it never went anywhere.

Of course the one guy you wanted didn’t feel the same.

“There’s just no single guy out there who actually wants to talk,” you lamented to your friend, Santi, one day. You hadn’t meant to rant like this when you had invited him over for dinner so the two of you could catch up. But after he asked how your last date had gone, a quizzical eyebrow raised from across the kitchen table, you hadn’t been able to stop from telling him. You continued, “No one even seems to care to be on the date at all. It’s like they don’t have anything better to do, so going on a date with me is their next best option, you know?”

Santi — who had been listening to your rant sympathetically for about five minutes — suddenly scrunched his eyebrows before a scheming smile slowly spread across his lips. 

You knew that look from a mile away. 

“No, no, no!” You warned preemptively. “Whatever crazy idea you just had: no.”

“What if I said I knew a great guy who’s single and thoughtful and would be perfect for you?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. Of course he would try to set you up. “Santi, no. I appreciate it but I’m done with the dating scene. I’ve embarrassed myself enough. I give up.”

He shook his head, that annoying grin still plastered to his face as he pointed his fork at you. “Nope, no quitter talk. I’m telling you, you’ll love this guy. I can’t believe I never realized how perfect you’d be for each other before now!”

“Santi-”

“Uh-uh. This is happening. You’re free on Friday, right? You’re going on a date with him. It’s a crime that you haven’t already.”

“What’s his name?” You asked. “You haven’t even said who it is.”

Santi shook his head again, saying, “That’s gonna be a surprise.”

You tried to explain that you were over the disappointment of dating and that going out with a mystery guy didn’t sound much more promising than any of your past dates. But it didn’t matter. Santi had set his mind on it.

“He’s been having bad luck on dates just like you have,” he explained as he whipped out his phone, presumably sending a text to the guy about this arrangement. 

“Santi, seriously, I don’t know about this…”

“What’s the matter?”

“Usually when dates go bad, the one bright side is that I know I’ll never see the guy again. I don’t know him or anyone else that knows him, so there won’t be any fallout when things go bad. Won’t it be weird for us and you if things don’t go well?”

He shook his head with decisive confidence before clicking his phone off. “That’s the thing, it won’t go badly. I’m telling you, it’ll be the best date of your life. You’ve got to trust me on this. It’s gonna be great.”

You looked at the ceiling, mulling this all over as you tapped the edge of your empty plate. Almost completely fed up with the idea of dating, the last thing you wanted was another failed date. But Santi was dead-set on it and seemed to truly believe it was something that could work. And simply waiting for love to come your way was getting both boring and disheartening. 

After considering everything for a moment, you asked, “He’s not going to be some murderous creep, right?”

Santi beamed, seemingly taking your question as confirmation that you were interested in the date. “Nah, you’ll love him. I trust him with my life.”

You raised an eyebrow. Santi wasn’t the kind of man who said that he trusted someone with his life unless he really meant it. 

Bing!

Santi looked down at his phone before smiling up at you again. “He’s in. How does Friday at seven sound?”

“I said no.”

Santi had been on Frankie’s ass for days now. When Frankie had gotten that text from him a few days ago — You down for a date with a nice, cute friend of mine? — he hadn’t known the headache that would ensue when he turned the offer down. Santi refused to tell him who the date was with, asserting that he would love the mystery woman. Unsatisfied with Frankie’s rejection, Santi had hounded him every day since, even going so far as to show up at his house today out of the blue. Frankie had heaved a long-suffered sigh when he saw Santi’s red Jeep pull up his driveway. 

“Come on, Fish,” Santi groaned, exasperatedly following Frankie around his dimly lit garage as he worked on his truck. “She’s pretty, she’s funny, she’s bold. I’m telling you, you’ll both hit it off.”

Frankie merely sighed as he sifted around his toolbox for a socket. He hadn’t had much luck in the dating department for years. Either the woman he was with didn’t seem to be that interested in him or it got too awkward as the conversation petered out. The best stories he had were Army stories, but those didn’t tend to go over well with dates. He was a man who was rough around the edges, simple, middle aged, and quieter than most. In short, he didn’t think he was much for anyone to get excited about anyways. He wasn’t the kind of guy that wowed someone on a blind date.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go on the date, it was the fact that he wanted more than a date. He wanted something real. A love that gripped his soul, that left him spinning, that left him losing his bearings. Maybe he wasn’t a sentimental man, but he was a bit of a hopeless romantic at heart. He just didn’t think that any of that stuff was ever meant for him, and that made every failed date even more painful. 

In reality, Frankie hated how he felt after every failed date. It tanked his self-esteem more than he cared to admit. He didn’t think he could take it again. It didn’t help that — when it came to dating — Frankie was on the shyer side. Though, maybe that had something to do with the whole self-esteem issue, too. At one point in his life, he had been much more confident in the dating area. However, after a few decades, a couple of failed serious relationships, and plenty of terrible dates, that confidence was quickly waning.

What made it worse was that the woman he really wanted was so unattainable it hurt. Every time he saw you at one of Santi’s cookouts or a night out at the bars, he felt that familiar pang in his chest. You were the opposite of Frankie, so confident and funny and gorgeous. Every time your hand brushed over his arm his heart almost gave out. Every time you smiled, he couldn’t look away. When you were in the room, you were the center of his attention, no matter how hard he tried to pay attention to anything else. The fact was that no other woman on any date had ever made him feel like you did. No other woman was ever you. 

It was that thought that had caused him to tell Santi no. He was sure the mystery woman was pretty and funny and whatever else Santi said, but the fact of the matter was that she wasn’t you. It didn’t matter that you didn’t seem to be interested in Frankie like that, he had fallen for you all the same. And now he couldn’t seem to be interested in anyone else.

“What else do I have to say, man?” Santi questioned, practically pleading as Frankie finally closed his hand around the cool metal of the socket he had been looking for. 

“Nothing,” Frankie responded, trying not to sound as down as he felt. “It’ll end just like all the others. I’m just not interested.”

He hated to let down his best friend, especially when he seemed so invested in this idea, but it was just too much for Frankie. After his last date, he had deleted all the dating apps from his phone and called it quits. He hadn’t told Santi this both because of how lame he would sound and because he knew that he would try to set him up exactly like this. Santi, being as extroverted as he was, knew a lot of women and once he started setting Frankie up, he wouldn’t stop until Frankie found someone. 

What Santi didn’t understand was that he had already fucked up Frankie’s love life enough when he introduced him to you that first night on his back deck. From that moment on, Frankie hadn’t been interested in anyone else. Whoever had come up with the term falling in love had been right because meeting you had felt almost exactly like a helicopter going down in a tailspin. One second, all was fine. The next, he was hurtling toward the ground.

He couldn’t tell Santi that he was madly in love with you either. It would only make things even worse when Santi inevitably meddled. Frankie didn’t think he would survive embarrassment like that, especially when you were much too good for him. Like there was any way in hell you felt the same as he did. 

“You’re both so goddamn stubborn,” Santi groaned to himself before taking a breath and pressing at his brow. Frankie slid underneath his truck again and started to work. For a moment, he actually thought he had won this dispute, Santi uncharacteristically quiet as he leaned against the old frame of the truck. But after a beat of silence, Santi sighed and called pointedly, “You know what? It doesn’t matter. I’ve already told her you’ll meet her at seven tonight.”

Without thinking, Frankie leaned up and cried, “You what-?” before promptly smacking his head against the metal above him. He scooted out from under the truck, holding his head and cursing. When he found that he didn’t have any serious injury, he trained his fury on Santi again. “Dude? Seriously?”

Santi, who was holding back from laughing at Frankie’s outburst, simply put his hands up. “I knew you were gonna pull this shit, so I told her you’d already said yes.”

A barrage of questions ran through his mind. Why would you do that? Why didn’t you mention that at the start? How do I get out of this now? However the only question he was able to get out was, “What the fuck, man?”

“You’ve gotta trust me on this one, Fish! You can’t back out now.”

Frankie grumbled, “I never even agreed to be in this.”

Santi simply continued on, seemingly ignoring him at this point. “It’s at that one grill place on the West side of town that Benny likes. You still have that shirt you wore to Benny’s birthday dinner? Wear that one. It’s not too formal but it looks good.”

“Fine. Fine. I’ll do it. But when this goes sideways, it’s on you.”

“When this goes perfectly,” Santi countered, “you better make me best man at the wedding.”

Frankie didn’t know how to tell him that he’d be lucky to even make it through the date, let alone get to anything resembling a relationship. 

“You’re really gonna do it?” Santi asked skeptically. “You’re not lying?”

Frankie sighed as he defeatedly tossed his socket back into the open toolbox, letting it loudly clang against the contents of the box. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice in this situation. “Yeah, I’ll do it.”

Santi beamed before clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re gonna thank me for this tomorrow.”

“Sure,” Frankie replied, sarcasm dripping from the word. If anything, he thought he would be embarrassed beyond belief tomorrow after Santi would inevitably ask how it went.

Fuck. Frankie didn’t think he had it in him to go through all the disappointment again. Much less to have his best friend see it. 

As Santi went to leave, he yelled over his shoulder, “Oh, and she’s not scared away by Army stories either. I’ve already told her plenty.”

Frankie’s stomach sank. “You didn’t tell her about the time I was drunk in Texas, did you?”

Santi only gave him an evil smile as he continued to back away, shrugging. “She thought it was funny.”

Later that night, Frankie sat at a table at Nino’s Bar & Grill, clad in the blue button-down Santi insisted he wear as he anxiously waited for his mystery date to arrive. In the hours since Santi had first roped him into this date, the man had never stopped texting him about her, all the while keeping her identity a secret. His insistence that this would be the best date ever had Frankie somewhat dreading the ultimate letdown that was coming. 

Hell, she was already ten minutes late. Maybe, he thought, she had already spared him from the date by standing him up. It certainly wouldn’t be the worst end to a date that he’d ever had. 

Suddenly, a text came through from Santi. Frankie stared at it, reading it again and again but it was just as confusing every time. 

Did you seriously think I hadn’t noticed the way you look at her?

After a second, he sent back a simple: What??

He sighed as he looked at his watch again. Maybe he should just go home, crack open a beer, and get back to work on his truck. It didn’t seem like-

“Frankie?”

His attention snapped up from the tabletop to find a gorgeous woman standing above him, the sunset shining through the windows behind her like a colorful halo. She stared at him questioningly, almost in awe. 

You. It was you. 

He had never thought that those scenes in movies where a guy was tongue-tied seeing a woman was actually something that could happen until his mind was blank and mouth ajar. 

Finally, he said your name, practically dumbstruck. “W-what are you doing here?”

You simply laughed sweetly — a beautiful, almost heart-stopping sound. “I, um… I think I may be here for the same reason you are.”

All at once, the reality of everything hit him. Santi. His insistence about this date. The text. Santi knew. He had set this whole thing up because he had known this whole time how Frankie felt about you. 

Suddenly, all of Santi’s glowing descriptions of you clicked into place, all of them true and none of them doing you justice. Now, Santi saying that you were pretty felt like a hell of an understatement. He knew that, somewhere, that smug son of a bitch was incredibly proud of himself. Not that Frankie could quite blame him right now. 

“Did you know?” Frankie asked, rising from his seat to stand in front of you. 

You shook your head. “No. It seems like we were both in the dark here. But… I’m definitely not upset about it now.”

It was at this last part that your eyes met his again, hopeful and searching. 

And just like that, in a mere twenty seconds, his whole world tipped on its head. The force of it would have knocked him clean off his feet if he let it — and he nearly did. If he hadn’t already been sure that he was indeed awake, he wouldn’t have quite believed it was really happening. It hit his system like a drug, the new wave of adrenaline filling his head with static. This static wasn’t the absence of thought — not anymore. No, now his head was filled with way too many all at once, each fighting to be heard until there was nothing but chaotic noise. 

Then, over it all came a clear fact: you felt the same. Tonight was the chance he never thought he would have. Suddenly, his whole outlook on this date was changed.

“Me, too.” With a small burst of confidence, he admitted, “I… there’s no one else I would’ve wanted to have this with.”

The smile that bloomed on your face was as blinding as the beautiful sunset behind you. 

Frankie guided you to your seat, pulling it out for you. Before you sat, you grazed your soft hand across his forearm as you thanked him, the touch sweet and electric. 

Remember to fucking breathe, Frankie told himself. 

As he made his way back to his seat, you spoke again, “I’m so, so sorry I was late! Traffic was terrible.”

Frankie — who was sure you were worth waiting for — assured you that it was no problem. 

He couldn’t shake the feeling that this was different. You were different from anyone he had ever been on a date with. He couldn’t put a finger on exactly what it was that made you feel so… special. 

“So,” he started, trying not to sound as breathless as he felt, “can I buy you a drink?”

You nodded with a smile, giving him a knowing look. “I know you’re a beer man. How about an order for two?”

Goddamn. For the first time in a long time, Frankie felt himself getting his hopes up. 

You didn’t think you would ever be able to forgive Santi for this. You had known him for three years and he hadn’t set you up with Frankie like this sooner. All those terrible dates could have been avoided if Santi had just meddled in both of your love lives from the start. 

Frankie was ridiculously handsome, endlessly sweet, and not nearly as quiet as he tended to be at Santi’s get-togethers. He had an easy sort of humor, one that was simple yet had you laughing seemingly without even trying. While you had both always just clicked, talking with him tonight made it feel as if you had known each other forever. You were only three hours in and this was already the best date of your life. 

The fact that you thought the words only three hours into the date blew your mind. For a long time now, a three hour long date usually had you wishing for the quickest way out. You couldn’t wait to leave the train wreck that it usually was. Now? Three hours didn’t feel like nearly enough. You felt like you were just barely scratching the surface of Frankie, his life, his past. You loved every second you had with him in a way you never thought possible. 

You had both quickly fallen into an easy rhythm with each other, all polite questions and light humor. While he was incredibly nice, you never felt as if he was putting on a persona. He was genuine, a trait that was both refreshing and intriguing. With Frankie, what you see is what you get, Santi had once told you. He had been telling the truth. And, damn, you liked what you saw. 

Over the hours, your conversation shifted, turning from testing questions into old stories. Frankie, as you already knew, was a great storyteller. Not only was he giving you some seriously embarrassing stories of Santi that had you rolling, he had pictures to back his stories up. For the first time, you were happy to see your date whip out his phone. The pictures were from decades ago and the young, beardless Frankie that looked back from those photos made you smile. He had aged, you mused as you studied his face beside you, like a fine wine. Older and more rugged, but all the more attractive for it.

You slowly slid your chair around to get a better view of his phone inch by inch until you were sat next to him, your thighs touching each other. As he showed you a particularly tame picture of his friends from the army — Santi and the Miller brothers ever present — you could see by the pink that suddenly dusted his cheeks that he was aware of your thigh against his, too. While he didn’t say anything about it, you noticed the way he leaned against you ever so slightly.

He flicked to another photo, one that immediately caught your attention. 

“Frankie,” you mused, “You’re so handsome!”

The photo he had flipped to was obviously a more recent one. He stood next to Will, both of them clad in disheveled white button-ups, ties undone around their collars, as they smiled at the camera. An out-of-place weathered ball cap sat on top of Frankie’s head, his curls poking out the bottom. His favorite Standard Oil hat. While out of place, it was fitting for him — a piece that blatantly showed something uniquely him. The final thing that drew your eye, however, was the several undone buttons that led down his front, exposing the tanned plane of his chest. 

“Oh. I didn’t- I forgot that was-” he stuttered for a moment. He let out a nervous chuckle before explaining, “This was Will’s wedding. After the wedding, as you can see.”

You smiled. It was endearing the way he had been thrown off guard by this.

“You look ridiculously handsome,” you reiterated, looking at him pointedly. 

Frankie flushed under the compliment again, his breathing noticeably picking up. “I- uh- thanks. I had the shirt tailored. And the pants-”

You giggled a bit, drawing his attention to you. Leaning close to his ear, you took a risk as you sweetly whispered, “The suit was nice, but I was talking about you. And the second compliment? I meant that you look ridiculously handsome tonight, too.”

Stunned, he simply held your gaze for a moment, plush pink lips slightly parted as you pulled back to look at him. He looked down at his hands as he mumbled a thank you, a bewildered smile on his lips. Obviously, he wasn’t used to such compliments.

Taking another risk, you brought the tip of your finger to the underside of his chin. Coarse hair tickled your skin as you brought his wide gaze up to yours. 

“I mean it,” you assured, your finger dropping so that you could lay it on his shoulder. 

“And I mean it when I say you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.” He said it breathlessly, your small gestures seemingly overwhelming his ability to breathe. His eyes were on you, wide and bare. “I thought so the day I met you.”

He feels it, too.

The world was still for a moment, the very air suspended between the two of you. The rest of the restaurant had fallen away, leaving only you and Frankie and the few inches between your lips. 

All at once, Frankie locked his phone, abandoned it on the table, brought his hand to your cheek, and kissed you hard. 

The world tipped. 

Kissing Frankie felt like the drop of a rollercoaster, curling up next to the endless warmth of a fire, the joy of visiting an unknown city. All at once. 

The force of it all stole the air from your lungs but you didn’t care. You couldn’t. The rush and hum in your veins wouldn’t let you. All you could think about was the movement of his plush lips against yours as your fingers wound into his curls.

It wasn’t a kiss fit for a first date. Yet, somehow, it felt right. Frankie felt right. 

Frankie was the first to break, seemingly as breathless as you were. As your hooded eyes fluttered up to meet his, you found him to be as surprised as you were. He looked at you with a hungry sort of wonder before he blinked, a bit of self-consciousness falling across his features. You hadn’t noticed that he had lost that self-consciousness until it was already taking hold again — and if that was what he was like when it was gone, you wanted to see what he was like when he fully let go. 

“S-sorry,” he stammered breathily. “I know that was probably too fast.”

You shook your head earnestly, not wanting to allow that self-consciousness of his to take over again. “Not fast enough.”

Hope flashed in his eyes. “Yeah?”

You nodded. “Do you wanna… get out of here?”

You saw Frankie’s eyes go wide and — for a second — thought you had pushed a little too far. But then he was fishing his wallet out of his back pocket as he answered definitively, “I’d love that.”

Now, you could see that same fire that you felt behind his eyes. A fire that filled you with a ridiculous amount of excitement.

He settled the check before you could even offer to pay, but now you were a little more than distracted as butterflies bloomed in your stomach for the first time in a long time. 

This wasn’t like you. None of this was like you. You didn’t kiss guys on the first date, much less ask them to bed. Granted, most dates had you running for the door before anything like that could happen, but still. The sentiment stood. 

Everything about Frankie was different, though. And the only thing you could really think about right now was having that man under you before the night ended.

When Frankie exited the restaurant with your hand in his, the tension between you two felt like a live wire and his heart was thundering in his chest. 

In a quick moment of planning in the parking lot, he found out that the roommate you had mentioned earlier was currently at your place. His place was over a forty minute drive from this restaurant on the other side of the city. While it was doable, it seemed like a lot for how… urgently he needed you.

Just as he was starting to lose hope, your eyes flicked to the side. He watched as you playfully bit your lip, a flash of hope in your eyes. He followed your gaze across the street to see one of the many hotels in the city that he barely paid any mind to. 

So that was how he found himself with a key to room 103, your hand in his as he led you through the lobby. 

It was all a rushed blur — finding the door, turning the feeble lock on the inside, pressing you against the wall of the small room, your sweet little moans against his mouth. You were all there was. 

As much as he had loved your outfit, he liked the sight even more now that you were stripped of it all. 

All of his senses were underwater, the world moving too fast for him to keep up. He hadn’t felt like this in a long, long time. He hadn’t wanted to feel like this in a long time. But now, with your fingers twisted into his hair and your body beneath him on the plush mattress, he finally let himself go. 

Years ago, Frankie had once been caught in a riptide of the ocean. Having grown up merely a few hours away from the beach, he had known that the current couldn’t be fought. It was too strong, a force of nature one couldn’t hope to go against. It felt a hell of a lot like this. Like you. You had caught him as unsuspecting as the current had that day. Only this time, he didn’t want to get out. He didn’t swim parallel to shore until he could escape your gasp, he only let you drag him out to the depths of an unfamiliar sea.

Frankie’s lips were everywhere. Your lips, your neck, your chest. You closed your eyes, letting the feeling wash over you. 

“Frankie,” you whined, voice so breathy you barely recognized it yourself. “Frankie, I need you. I need you right now.”

The warmth of his hand slid up to palm at your breast, his mouth finding yours again. 

“You’ve got me,” he assured you, voice deliciously deep and raspy. “I’m yours.”

You would’ve paid more mind to this last part if his free hand hadn’t been sliding down your stomach to your pussy. A gasp escaped you as he toyed with your clit for a moment, rubbing slow circles. 

“Fuck, yeah. That’s it,” he mumbled. “You’re so wet already. You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

As he leaned down to kiss your neck, you felt him slip a finger into your heat. You grabbed at his back, at his hair, lost in the feeling of him as you clung to him like a lifeline. It was slow at first, testing before he began to build up to a steady pace. Already, it wasn’t enough. You needed so much more. 

When you bucked your hips looking for more friction, Frankie said, “I know, I know. You’re just so tight, baby. Gotta work you up.”

Much to your dismay, he pulled his finger out for a moment. Bringing his attention back to your clit, he stopped your protest dead in your throat. Then, he slipped two fingers back into you, resuming his pace from before. 

He pushed himself up a little, looking first at your face and then down where you took his fingers with lust-blown eyes. Frankie was still in his boxers, but you could see the prominent outline of his hard cock straining against the black fabric. 

“Fuck,” he mused, before slipping a third finger into you. You moaned out his name as the familiar coil began to build in your stomach. 

“Frankie…Frankie — fuck, baby — I’m gonna come. I’m gonna-”

Suddenly, the air was stolen from your lungs, your mouth open in a silent scream as your orgasm slammed into you. You clenched around Frankie’s fingers, but he kept going, praising you all the while. 

“That’s it. That’s it, hermosa. Ride it out.”

Your orgasm lasted a lifetime, Frankie drawing it out of you for a length of time you hadn’t thought possible. Wave after blissful wave. 

When you came down, panting and head spinning, you found Frankie popping his fingers in his mouth, eyes closed and moaning a little as he did. 

“You even taste sweet,” he mused. 

You giggled, pulling him down to kiss you again. After a moment, you pulled away enough to whisper against his lips, “Need these off, Frankie.”

You lightly tugged at the band of his boxers, giving him a hint. 

Frankie threw himself backwards, rushing to push the fabric down his legs and discard it to the floor in whatever direction it decided to go. 

Oh. Oh, wow. 

To say that Frankie was impressive seemed like an understatement. Already flushed and leaking, his cock was both long and thick. 

For the first time in your life, you found yourself saying, “I don’t know if it’ll fit.”

You saw Frankie’s mouth twitch up for a moment. “Now you’re just stroking my ego.”

You pushed yourself up to your knees, scooting over top of Frankie so that you straddled him. In the midst of it, lust replaced the humor on his face. His hands found your waist as you used a hand on his chest to coax him to lay back on the mattress.

“I’ll do a little more than just stroke it,” you promised. 

“Fuck,” Frankie breathed, almost to himself. Bringing your hand to his cock, you teased him with a few testing pumps. He tipped his head back against the bed, groaning as you ghosted the tip of your thumb over the head. With a deep baritone, he pleaded, “God, baby, please.”

How could you deny that? You couldn’t even hold yourself back anymore. 

You guided him to your entrance before slowly lowering to take him. It was a stretch, one that felt overwhelming and all too good at the same time. Frankie’s hands found your hips, a string of encouraging praises falling from his lips as he watched you take every inch of him with laser-like focus. 

“That’s it, baby,” he cooed, disheveled and wrecked as he looked up at you. “I knew you could take all of me. Goddamn, you feel so good.”

You felt so unbelievably full. Suddenly, the ability to speak had been stolen from you, replaced with the simple need for friction. 

You rocked your hips, earning a hiss from Frankie as his fingertips gripped your hips for dear life. Slowly, you built your pace as you rode him. He was so deep, you never knew it could feel like this. Soon enough, you had a good pace. 

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The rhythmic noise was in the background at first, lost to the sound of your and Frankie’s moans and grunts. But then you realized how close it was. 

Frankie read the confusion on your face immediately. “The bed,” he explained, panting. “The shitty bed’s hitting the wall.”

Oh. It was obvious now, but your brain was underwater, your only concern being the unbelievable man beneath you. But there was a small part of your brain somewhere in the haze that was still rational that knew the last thing you needed right now was hotel management knocking on your door after a complaint. 

“Floor,” Frankie offered, seemingly on the same page. “It’ll be easier on the floor.”

After a brief moment to relocate, you were once again on top of Frankie, your knees against the cheap, rough carpet as you rode him without abandon. He was lost in it, switching between letting his eyes roll back and needing to watch you. To praise you. 

“Fuck, yes, baby. This pussy’s so perfect. You’re so perfect.” He was babbling, but you loved it. A sense of urgency, of longing lurked in his tone. 

You panted and cursed, so close to the edge but not quite able to get there. “Frankie. Baby, I need more.”

Frankie’s eyes snapped up to your face, a new sort of darkness to his eyes. His hand came to your back to brace you against him before he flipped you both, your back meeting the carpet. Now, he loomed over you as he kissed you deeply. Right as he pulled his lips away from yours, he gave a sharp, hard thrust into you. You cried out, scrambling to scratch at his back in an attempt to find purchase. Again and again, he drove into you, making a devastating pace. 

His pants fanned across your lips, seemingly lost in the feeling of you. “Yeah, that’s it. That’s it. Fuck… baby — fuck — I’m close. Need you to come. Come for me, cariño.”

If you had the ability to speak anymore, you would’ve told him that you were right there, teetering on the edge. 

With a few more thrusts, you toppled over. The sounds you made were obscene as ecstasy took over. 

“Where do you want it, baby?” Frankie rasped desperately. “I need you… I need you to tell me.”

“Inside,” you gasped. 

“Fuck. You’re so fuckin’ good, baby,” Frankie cooed in your ear. “Ah. So fuckin’ tight. Squeezin’ me so good. I’m- I’m gon-”

He didn’t finish his sentence before he was driving himself deep and releasing into you. His mouth fell open as he rode it out, grinding into you. 

When he was completely spent, he let himself sag down a little above you, his head dropping as he tried to catch his breath. Every moment or so, he would let out a beautiful little ah sound, especially as he pulled out of you.

For the second time that night, you brought your pointer finger underneath his chin and slowly guided him to look at you. You caught the enamored look in his eyes a moment before you leaned up to kiss him. Slowly, meaningfully. 

Against his lips, you said, “God, Frankie, if I would’ve known that you liked me, too… or that we could’ve been doing this all this time…”

Frankie gave an incredulous laugh, pulling back to look at you. “Like you? I’ve been crazy about you since the day we met.”

You laughed, looking at the ceiling for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “Me, too! I hadn’t been able to stop staring at you the entire cookout that day.”

“I wanted to ask you out then,” he admitted, his brown eyes earnest. “And every time we saw each other afterwards. I always talked myself out of it.”

“I would’ve said yes,” you assured. 

Frankie ran a thumb over your cheek. “Think it’s too soon to ask you on a second date?”

You giggled against him, feeling his body shake against yours as he laughed, too. “Not soon enough. How does Wednesday night sound?”

“Perfect. I hope it’s not too crude to say that I hope it ends a lot like tonight did.”

You patted his tanned chest, giving him a knowing smile. “Let’s pick a restaurant closer to your place, then.”

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