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roosterforme · 11 months

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Always Ever Only You Part 3 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley just wants to make you as happy as you make him, and he hates it when you won't even let him try. But when your frustration boils over, you snap at the person you believe deserves it the most.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, swearing

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

You had been foolishly holding out hope. Until your period actually began, you'd been telling yourself that maybe there was still a chance. Maybe you had just taken the pregnancy test too early. Maybe you got a false negative.

So when you woke up for work on Monday and needed a tampon, you scolded yourself for your optimism. There was no point in it, because it only made you feel worse in the long-run.

Bradley rubbed your shoulders and kissed your neck as you put your contacts in at the bathroom vanity. You looked gross. You were bloated, and your face was broken out. You vowed to stick to a better diet until you lost some weight.

"Morning, Baby Girl," he murmured against your ear. It wasn't even fair. You wanted him all the time. He was perfect all the time. His voice gave you chills.

"Morning," you whispered. "My period started." Your voice shook pathetically.

"It's okay," he promised. "It's going to be okay."

But you really felt like it wasn't. And work was pissing you off. When you got to your lab, you remembered that you and Cat were going to be spending the day working on proposals together. Great.

"Did you have fun at the Hard Deck?" you asked her, practically throwing your computer onto the counter next to hers.

She looked up at you, and you could tell she wanted to roll her eyes. "It was fun," she replied. "Not really my scene, but I can see where it would be yours."

You wanted to ask her what that was supposed to mean, but you bit your tongue. You wouldn't give her the satisfaction of thinking you cared about her opinion of you. And you were definitely going to have to tell Jake to get a crush on a hot looking woman who was actually nice, because you'd had just about enough of this. He had bugged you all night at the bar to introduce him to Cat again. He asked you about her all the time, but there was nothing to tell.

You took a seat and pounded away at your keyboard, working all morning while trying to ignore your cramps and your irritation with the woman next to you. Neither of you spoke a word about anything personal. It was all professional. When you noticed that it was noon, you said, "Let's take a break," in as bright a voice as you could.

Jake was waiting in the doorway for you. Or maybe he was just trying to catch a glimpse of Cat. But regardless, when you approached him, he smiled and handed you a container of soup from the cafeteria. "Angel. Let's eat in your office," he drawled. And when Cat breezed past him, he murmured, "Hi, Lieutenant Coleman."

She smirked in response, and Jake turned to watch her walk the entire way down the hall. "You're such a dog," you told him, inspecting the soup and finding it was chicken noodle. "You just need to get laid. Go to the bar tonight. There'll be a line of girls waiting for you."

He met your eyes and shook his head. "I'm not really doing that anymore."

You snorted as he followed you to your office. "Could you imagine if I agreed to go out with you? Bradley and I would have never happened after that."

Jake kicked his booted foot along your office floor before he plopped down into your extra chair. "Yeah, well... he'd have likely killed me if we went out. But, hey, you're not listening to me, Angel. Tell me more about Cat Coleman."

You sighed and ate some soup. "She's mean to me, okay? She doesn't like me."

"I don't believe you."

"It's true. She's so bitchy to me but nice to everyone else. She makes fun of the way I work. She won't eat lunch with me. She avoids me all the time. She hates me."

You swallowed another spoonful of soup, and tears immediately sprung to your eyes. You looked up at Jake, and you knew he could tell something was wrong immediately. When he jumped to his feet, you tried to wave him off, but he was kneeling next to your chair and rubbing your hand before you knew it.

"What happened?" he asked softly. When you didn't respond, he gave you a few seconds before asking, "Do you want me to go get Rooster?"

"No," you croaked, your throat burning with the effort to talk. "I'm fine."

"You do not sound fine. You can talk to me about anything, right?"

"Right."

"Well, I'm all ears."

And he just knelt there next to you while you told him how much you hated going to your lab now. And you told him that you had your period. And then you said, "Bradley and I are trying to start a family, but it's just not happening."

"Hey," he said, letting you cry it out. "You and Bradley are already a family. Plus, you've got Tramp. And Nat and I are like siblings you guys never even wanted."

You kind of shrugged at him. "It's not the same thing."

"I know that, but sometimes it takes time," he told you.

"It's been four months," you whispered.

Jake stood up and pulled you to your feet, and then he wrapped you in a hug so tight, his name tag was digging into your collarbone. "Just give it some time. You want me to talk to Rooster?"

"No. Let's just finish eating lunch."

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

Bradley had been trying all week. Kissing along your neck and rubbing your hips through your khakis while you made dinner. But you finally snapped at him on Wednesday night when you were trying to cut up some sun dried tomatoes for the Marry Me Rooster he had requested.

"I'm trying to cook dinner, Bradley. Yes, I realize you're trying to get me in the mood. Yes, I can feel your erection. No, I don't want to have sex. I look gross, and I feel gross." You set down your knife and turned to face him. He had taken one huge step away from you, and now he was looking at you with the saddest brown eyes.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, running his fingers through his hair as he walked down the hallway toward your bedroom.

"Shit," you whispered as you rushed after him. "I'm sorry."

He was standing next to the bed unbuttoning his uniform shirt when you walked in and headed right for him. But he didn't say anything, just yanked his shirt off and tossed it onto the bed. The sight of him in his khaki pants and black undershirt had you sucking in a deep breath. It wasn't that you didn't want him. You just didn't even want yourself right now.

"Bradley," you whispered.

"Nah. I'm going to go workout in the garage," he told you, stripping out of his pants and digging in a drawer for some gym shorts. "I'll eat later. Don't wait for me."

You watched him walk back out of the room. Then he called for Tramp, and you heard the sliding glass door open and then close. You went back to the kitchen and finished making dinner. You had to fight the urge to go out to the garage and get Bradley, because somehow you knew you'd just end up making things worse. You made him a beautiful plate of dinner and left it on the island. And then you got yourself ready for bed. You were no longer hungry.

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Bradley was stressing out. He could feel his composure crumbling as every maneuver he performed in the air was wrong. Everything felt wrong. It was like he and his Super Hornet were out of sync. Like he couldn't trust himself.

"What are you doing, Rooster?" Phoenix asked him through the comms. But Bradley didn't even know how to respond, because he hadn't been paying attention. He was distracted. He was never like this in the air.

And then he heard Maverick call his team back to the ground, and he knew it was his fault. He wished he could take all of the pushups for Phoenix and Bob as well, but it was a team effort after all. So Bradley had to try to keep calm while he could feel them glaring at him through all two hundred pushups.

He had been like this all week. Nothing made as much sense to him as flying did. Well, other than you. But things had been a little rough and unpredictable at home. He wasn't really trying to do it, but he had begun to memorize when you were ovulating and when your period was due. Fucking you was no chore, but he was absolutely ready for you to miss a period. He was obsessed with the idea of you showing him a positive pregnancy test. But it just... wasn't happening yet.

And now he was putting pressure on himself. Because he knew he was a ticking time bomb. He felt it in his bones. Any day now, he would be getting deployment papers. And then you would be alone for who knows how long. Weeks or months. Bradley would be on an aircraft carrier in the Pacific Ocean, and you would be at home, worrying about him. And the mission to make a baby would be put on hold, replaced by a different kind of mission.

The thing was, all of this was bothering him a hell of a lot more now, because it was bothering you so much.

Bradley slammed his locker closed only to find Jake standing there. "You better pull it together, Bradshaw," he said so calmly that it pissed Bradley off even more. "Or you're going to get grounded."

"Do you think I don't know that?" Bradley asked, getting in his face. "Do you think I don't know I'm flying like shit right now?"

But Jake didn't move an inch, and his expression didn't change. "I think whatever is bothering you... well, you should take it home to your wife. Angel will help you feel better."

Bradley took a deep breath and let it out slowly, leaning against his locker with his fist clenched. "She's part of the fucking problem," Bradley growled, and he watched Jake's eyes grow wide.

Jake gaped at him before he said, "I can't think of a single time you've ever said something like that about her." His feelings seemed to be hurt on your behalf, but Bradley didn't know how to explain how he felt.

"When she puts pressure on herself, all I want is to relieve it for her," he told Jake softly, trying to unclench his fist. "But I can't. She won't let me."

Jake sighed. "I think I know what it's about. She's been pretty upset. Tried to tell her it's not her fault, but I can tell she's blaming herself."

Bradley could feel his cheeks flushing. You and Jake were close. The other man probably did know some details about your intimate moments with Bradley which was kind of mortifying. However, Bradley would never want you to feel like you couldn't confide in someone you trusted. It was just hard to gasp that Jake was oftentimes that person for you.

"We just want to have a baby," Bradley growled.

"It's only been a few months," Jake reminded him. "Deep down, Angel knows it takes time."

Bradley looked up at the flickering fluorescent bulb. "Sometimes I feel like I'm never doing enough for her," he whispered, grabbing his bag and brushing past Jake.

But he almost ran into Payback on his way out. "What are you still doing here, man?" he asked with a grin. "If I had a girl as hot as your wife, I'd be home by now, pumping her full of babies."

The urge to punch his friend directly in the face was so strong, Bradley had to bite his lip and keep moving. He needed to get home to you but not take this out on you. That would be unacceptable. Because while you were adding to his stress, he would never tell you that.

You were already home when he walked inside, and Bradley had to try to fight for composure. "Hi," he managed to say. Of course you looked impossibly cute, laying with Tramp on the couch in Bradley's oversized UVA tee and a pair of his boxer briefs. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to keep his hands off you right now, but you'd been distant with him for more than a week.

"How was your day?" you asked him softly.

Somehow your sweet voice just made him angry. Your voice and your gorgeous face and the way he could see your nipples through the shirt. And Bradley couldn't help himself. His voice was rough to his own ears, and he sounded mad. "My day fucking sucked. It was terrible," he growled. "I flew like an asshole. I got everyone assigned to pushups. I was so distracted from work, thinking about you."

Your eyes were wide as you sat up. "Thinking about me?" Tramp jumped to the floor and ran over to sniff at Bradley's boots as he untied them.

"Yeah," he grunted, wrestling out of his flight suit and tossing it to a heap on the floor. His skin felt too hot. He needed to go for a run or lift weights. "I told you I think about you all the damn time. And today, trust me, I wish I hadn't been."

"What does that mean?" you asked him, standing up between the couch and the coffee table, your lips forming a little pout.

Bradley yanked his undershirt off as well, standing just inside the front door in only his compression shorts and his socks. "It means I'm mad because you won't let me try to make you feel better! You don't even want to talk to me, but you'll talk to Jake! I'm fucking pissed that you're skipping meals and ditching me for lunch every day!"

Bradley took off toward the bedroom, leaving you behind. He was afraid of what else he was going to say if he didn't get some space to himself right now. And the last thing he wanted to do was make you cry. But when he got into the bedroom to get some workout clothes, you followed him.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, biting your lip and looking at him with wide eyes.

"What are you sorry for?" he asked loudly, slamming his drawer shut instead of actually pulling anything out of it. "Tell me."

"I'm sorry I've been shutting you out, Roo." You took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry I haven't been eating lunch with you. I know we can keep trying, but when I get my period now, I panic."

"You panic and talk to Jake," Bradley growled. When you simply nodded, his blood boiled. He knew he was red in the face as he closed the distance to you. The words were there before he could take them back. "If you want to talk to Jake all the time, maybe you should have married him."

Your lips parted soundlessly, and then you moaned. A needy sound, from the back of your throat. One that had Bradley's cock stirring immediately.

"I don't want him. I've never wanted him. I just want you."

"Do you want me right now, Baby Girl? Because I wanna fuck you right here," he said as calmly as he could, but his voice was still gruff and unsteady. "You're going to have to tell me to go out back to the garage if you want me to keep my hands to myself. Okay? Because I want my wife. But I will settle for my hand and then the bench press if you don't want me back."

You whimpered, reaching for the hem of the tee shirt and guiding it up over your hips. "I am so turned on," you whispered. "Please."

"Please what?" Bradley demanded, running his hand along his cock through his shorts.

"Daddy," you gasped in shock. Like you couldn't even believe you said it to him. Like you needed him as badly as he needed you. "Fuck me."

"Baby Girl," he whispered harshly as he pressed himself against you.

You yanked the shirt over your head and pulled his boxer briefs down over your delicious hips as you moaned, "I want my husband."

His cock was fully at attention now as he stroked your dainty Rooster tattoo with his fingertips. "I'm right here," he growled, watching you step out of his underwear and kick them aside. Your eyes were wide and fixed on his as you stood naked before him. "You gonna let me take care of you?"

"Yes," you gasped when he moved his hand to your pussy. "Are you still angry, Daddy? From your bad day?"

Bradley raised one eyebrow. He knew how he sounded. He knew he was breathing heavily. He also felt how fucking wet you were as he slid his middle finger along your slit.

"Do you want me to be?" he asked before placing a rough kiss to your lips.

"Yes," you moaned, and in one swift movement, Bradley had the front of your body pressed up against the wall next to the bedroom door. You squealed and braced yourself with both hands as he gently kicked your legs a little further apart.

"You like making me this way?" he growled next to your ear before sucking hard on your neck. "I think you do."

Bradley reached his hands up to squeeze your tits as you whined his name. He stroked your nipples softly with his thumbs while he sucked on your neck some more.

Then he took his cock in his right hand and guided himself to your opening. He filled you in one swift motion, and started fucking you so hard, your face almost hit the wall. He caught you with his hand on your jaw as you whimpered for him.

"You think it's fun to get me all pissed off at work?" he asked, low and soft. "You love having so much control over me, don't you?"

"I do," you whispered as he turned your face so you were looking at him over your shoulder.

"You love knowing I think about your voice during lectures. Think about your body when I'm flying. I can't stop thinking about how much I love fucking you," he said, his voice getting louder as he pressed his forehead against your perfect cheek and brushed his fingers over your tattoo before stroking your clit.

You cried out for him. "I do, Daddy! I love it!"

Bradley was determined to get you off. He wouldn't have a repeat of the dining room floor. Not today. He went a little harder, a little deeper. He listened to the incoherent words tumbling out of your mouth. And then he said, "Try and find someone better than me. Someone else who can fuck you this good. You can't."

"No!" you grunted, your fingers bending, nails digging into the wall. You were struggling to look at him as your eyes fluttered closed.

He kissed along your jaw before ending at your ear and whispering, "I love you." And then he felt it. That beautiful clench of your pussy as you came for him. He knew the feel of you so well. He wanted to take care of everything for you. He needed to give you everything you wanted. Be everything you needed.

He came for you too, hands drifting to your hips as his movements slowed. You were unsteady on your feet as you turned to face him. Bradley's cum was dripping down your legs and onto the floor as you reached for him. Then you were in his arms, kissing him just right with your fingers in his hair. And he couldn't remember why he'd been upset in the first place.

"I love you," you whispered against his lips. Bradley stumbled back onto the bed with you wrapped up with him. When he fell back with you on top of him, you laughed.

"Come here," he coaxed, and you straddled his waist and kissed him until your lips were puffy. When he tried to move, you held him down and kissed him some more. He felt himself relax completely with every little sound you made and every swipe of your tongue against his.

"Roo," you crooned, your lips moving to his neck and kissing him softly there.

He groaned and started to sit up. "What's it called when the foreplay comes after sex?"

You giggled. "Post play?"

"Shit, Sweetheart," he said, letting you keep going with your lips. "You want more?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed against his skin, setting his nerve endings ablaze.

"Give me a minute, and I'll take care of you again."

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You were sore on Monday morning. In the best kind of way. You and Bradley had spent the weekend talking and having sex. And then having more sex. Only taking a break to go grocery shopping and swing by the Hard Deck. Jake knew right away that you were both feeling much better. He was always so patient with you that you found it hard not to smile when he bought you and Bradley beers.

You needed to be more open with Bradley. And you would be. And starting today, you'd meet him and Nat in the cafeteria unless you really were honestly working through lunch instead of hiding in your office. You just needed to get through your morning with Cat. Which was easier said than done.

She gave you short answers to every question. When you asked her to type up some of the notes you wrote, she looked at you with a raised eyebrow. "Shouldn't you have typed this up yourself?"

You sighed. "I worked it up over the weekend. In my free time. I read it to my husband as I wrote it, and it seemed to flow easier when I wrote it."

She scrutinized your notebook. "Well I can barely read it. I'll work in the code while you type it up. I'm better at the code anyway."

Was she implying she was better at coding than typing? Or that she was better at coding than you were? She made you so mad. The next time Jake mentioned how beautiful her eyes were, you were going to pummel him.

Everyone else had already deserted the lab when you realized what time it was. "Should we take a lunch break?" you asked, scrambling to lock up your computer. Bradley and the others were probably waiting for you already. You did not want to disappoint him today. Not after such a perfect weekend.

"Fine," Cat agreed. Her tone was short, like you were throwing off her entire day by deciding to take lunch at lunchtime.

You squared your shoulders and turned to face her as she stood up. Then you blurted out, "I don't understand what I did to make you dislike me."

Cat froze in place, her eyes appraising your face. You felt the prickle of embarrassment along your skin, and you were afraid she was going to laugh in your face. But she just shook her head slowly. "I don't dislike you."

"Yes, you do," you scoffed, your embarrassment swiftly replaced with annoyance.

"No, Lieutenant Commander. I do not," she said, firmly closing her computer. Then she went off, and you didn't stop her. "But your life is so perfect, it's honestly hard for me to relate to you. Even at work. Your husband dotes on you. He's always in the lab, bringing you snacks and asking you about your day. You've got Seresin in here all the time, too. And you're the golden child. Bickel sings your praises at the meetings every week."

Your eyes were bugging out. "But, that's not-"

She cut you off and kept going. "You and I both have the same master's degree, but I'm a year older than you, and you outrank me." Her voice sounded bitter as she said, "I'm a single mom. My life is a mess. I'm broke. We live with my uncle. I feel like a joke all the time. But your life is perfect. And trust me, I wish more than anyone else that I wasn't jealous of you."

You stood completely still and watched her walk out of the lab and disappear down the hallway. Your life was not perfect. The fact that it maybe looked that way to someone else shocked you. Cat thought she was a mess. Well, you were a mess, too. But she was a mom.

A moment later, you followed her down the hallway toward the cafeteria where Bradley was waiting for you with a smile on his face and a bottle of your favorite hot sauce on his tray.

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Oh. Cat's a little jelly of BG. Well, Cat... BG just might be a little jelly of you. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 4

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sohnric · 9 months

Text

sweet like candy – e. sohn

pairing: eric sohn x fem! reader

genre: summer au, strangers to something more ?? fluff, suggestive. very much stargazing by the neighbourgood and fantasize by the boyz capsuled into a fic. eric is a simp and a hopeless romantic because i said so. a girl romanticizes sharing a lollipop (its me im girl)

warnings: alcohol, maybe some minimal swearing, a heated make out session that hints onto a hookup (no smut mentioned!). the use of a cheesy nickname babydoll (dont @ me or i will deactivate), reader has hair long enough for a claw clip

word count: 6.9k

a/n: almost cried while trying to name this fic somebody send help. Also this doesn't feel like my best work its kinda rushed imo but 🤠 yolo

part of the @deoboyznet summer on you event! cant believe i made it on time

a summer tradition of renting out a cabin every year invented by a couple of friends takes a turn for eric when a new addition to the circle brings him to his knees - in other words, he never knew tequila could taste so sweet.

If anyone ever asked Eric Sohn if he believed in love at first sight, he would, without a doubt, say yes.

What was the proof he had? Well, absolutely nothing. All he ever knew about love at first sight was from romance movies he watched during lonely nights with his roommate Juyeon, never having the experience of the whole world stopping and zooming in on one particular person, taking his breath away– but to put it simply, Eric Sohn is a true romantic. Call him cheesy if you want– he wouldn’t like it, but he also wouldn’t disagree.

On one summer afternoon, though, his world tilts in its axis– the moment comes, and he is finally able to test out his theory.

You walk out of the passenger’s side of a red 2008 Toyota Auris, hair put up into a claw clip, jean shorts showing off your long legs and a pearl white button-up opened and lazily thrown over your outfit, and suddenly, Eric Sohn finds his knees buckling and his palms sweating with affection. He was aware that Juyeon’s girlfriend was bringing her best friend to tag along to their little summer retreat (more like a trip to a cabin in the middle of the woods), but he sure as hell didn’t expect the stranger to make him feel this type of way.

Sure, it might just be him being incredibly attracted to you. But with how fast his heart was beating when you smiled at everyone after introducing yourself to the group, he was sure he was slowly, but surely falling for you. And he was falling hard.

He feels like the world is moving in slow motion as he watches the group go and unload the car– you and your best friend Yeri were the last ones to arrive– and what wakes him up from the haze is when he watches you struggle to carry a cooler out of the trunk into the cabin, his legs dragging him closer to the vehicle and near to your body.

Now is his time to shine. “Let me help!” he hurries out, sneakers crunching on the gravel. His hands firmly grab onto the handle of the blue cooler, muscles flexing under the weight (making him wonder why you would willingly want to carry the thing and not ask him or any of the guys for help in the first place), and when your eyes look up at come in contact with his, he presses a smile to his lips. “I’m Eric, by the way.”

“Ah,” you gasp, a grateful expression breezing over your features, “thanks. I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Eric hums, watching your every move. Your figure walks over to the front of the car, your head popping in close to the window to look inside, and when a satisfied look overtakes your features, Eric finds himself asking. “Is that everything?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “we can head inside, I think.”

The boy tries hard to keep his cool, he really does. But with how he’s trailing behind you like a lost puppy, attempting to find a topic that would engage him in a conversation with you, he feels like a boy that is just experiencing a crush for the first time in his life. Everything about you is enchanting– and sure, you could say he was just painfully attracted to you and this had nothing to do with love– but he was also convinced that if you asked him to jump off the Empire State Building, he would do it without giving it a second thought (which is kind of worrying, but again– it says a lot).

You open the door to the cabin for him, and he finds himself speechless at the action. Once your eyes meet again and you offer him another subtle smile, he finds himself gasping at the sentence that comes out of your mouth.

“Hey! We’re matching, kinda,” you note, pointing towards his outfit.

And you’re right– Eric didn’t even notice at first, too enchanted with your sheer existence– but you two were indeed wearing the same thing. Jean shorts, and a white button-up– in your case, thrown over a white tank top, in Eric’s, closed (although he did leave it a bit open at the top, revealing his tanned skin). Suddenly, the boy is glad he’s wearing a red cap to cover up his hair, since he foolishly thinks the hat provides him enough shade in the face to not reveal his burning cheeks as he utters out a weak response.

“It looks so much better on you, though.”

With that, he walks into the cabin– escaping the situation, not really paying a single thought to chivalry and letting you go through the door first– and as he reaches the crowd of people in the kitchen, he prays for all high sources to find him, get to him and wipe his brain clean of all thoughts, because

even though you are basically matching (and he does think you look so much better in the outfit than he does), all he can think about is just how much more he’d like your outfit if the white button-up enveloping your body was the one he’s wearing right now instead.

The next time Eric finds courage to talk to you is when it seems like you’re not finding it to talk to anyone else yourself– the big group is currently sitting around a fire, marshmallows and sausages slowly burning in the blazing flames– and while everyone around was either talking to each other or singing along to the songs Jacob was playing on the guitar, you were sitting alone in the middle of two commotions: Chanhee and Changmin arguing about something seemingly important, and Yeri and Juyeon making out right in front of everyone’s eyes.

And Eric was supposed to listen to Sunwoo talk about his latest heartbreak– how the man still gets no girls despite having such an objectively handsome face, Eric truly doesn’t know– but the topic of the conversation was too boring for him to engage with it. That, and he was also painfully aware of your every move– you didn’t even move much– and word– you weren’t talking to anybody– and that was slowly driving him insane.

You looked a little out of place. Eric supposes it was because you didn’t really know anyone here– except from your best friend and her awfully sappy boyfriend– but even though it was logical and a little expected for you to be a bit excluded in such a foreign circle, the man took it as his mission to make you feel as welcome and as included as he physically could.

Completely ignoring Sunwoo’s blabbering (like he was doing for the last few minutes anyway), Eric confidently (and a bit shakily– hands sweating and breath hitching in his throat) walks to the other side of the bonfire, from where he’s been watching your stone expression through the flames, and sits down in the small place between you and Changmin. Changmin wasn’t even facing you, too engrossed in the debate he was having with Chanhee, and so it was Eric’s job to wobble his bottom into the place, efficiently making the older boy move away with a light elbow jab sent into his lower back.

“Hi,” he clears his throat, “are you having fun?” he asks, but mentally curses at himself right as the question escapes his mouth– does she look like she's having fun? Of course she doesn't, you stupid idiot.

You smile at the question, though, nodding. “Yeah,” you hum, “having lots of fun listening to your friends argue and my friends making out next to my ear.”

“You seemed like it too, y’know,” Eric laughs, “they’re always like this, by the way. They’ll forget about the fight in the morning.”

“Oh, that could never be me,” you sigh, shaking your head at the sentiment.

“No?”

“No,” you shrug, “I get too petty. If we have a fight, I’m not speaking to you for at least two weeks.”

Eric finds himself laughing at your comment. “I’ll remember that for future reference.”

Straightening your back and looking at your companion– as if you were going to call him out on his subtle hint of there being any future meeting between the two of you– you suddenly gasp and swiftly turn towards the bonfire, an honest mourn escaping your lips.

“Oh fuck!” you curse under your breath as your hand reaches towards a stick that’s had its end in the flame, the device efficiently resting against a rock in a position where you didn’t have to pay any attention to the snack you were cooking– more like burning– for yourself. With a quick move for the stick, you pull the tip of it out of the scorching red of the bonfire and look at it in an examining way, as if the result would be different and the marshmallow would unburn itself if you stared at it long enough. “I completely forgot about this!”

Eric takes a glance at the burnt piece of fluff, letting out a laugh at the black marshmallow in front of your face. “That’s not how you make a good s’more,” he notes, poking fun at your annoyed face.

“Oh, no shit, Sherlock…” you mutter under your breath, but your face looks a bit sad to see the piece go to waste. “I don’t know why I even tried, I’m bad at this stuff.”

There comes his moment, Eric thinks. “Well, you’re lucky, ‘cause you just met an expert at making s’mores.”

“Does a thing like that even exist?” you chuckle, rolling your eyes at the male in disbelief.

“Of course it does! You’re looking at one now,” he grins, leaning over you to take a brand new marshmallow out of the bag to your right– sandwiched between your thigh and the couple in love– before he reaches over to your hand and takes the roasting stick out of your hand, slides the white fluffy cloud through the sharp tip and hovers it above the flame.

“The key is to hold it above the flame, and not in the flame,” Eric chuckles as he looks at you from the corner of his eye, watching your expression change.

“Oh, but I thought the key is to burn the thing,” you ironically gasp, shaking your head at his teasing. “Where did you even learn all of this?”

“I grew up in the States,” Eric hums, “they would deport me if I didn’t know how to make s’mores.”

The comment gets a giggle out of you– a sound Eric almost folds at and falls into the open fire (thankfully, he held his composure– he doesn’t think 3rd degree burns would suit his look) – and it takes everything in him to not scream like a teenage girl at the thought of making you laugh. Yes, that’s how down bad you managed to get the male.

“Do you have a special recipe?”

“Just the basic one,” he shrugs, turning the skewer in his hand to make the marshmallow equally glazed on each side, “I will make it extra good for you, though.”

“I thought a master always does their best?” you tease, watching as the boy crumbles under your gaze.

“Not always. I don’t like to put effort into things that aren’t worth it,” Eric hums as he takes the marshmallow out of the burning fire, examining it, and after deeming it worthy, taking the skewer and holding it up in between his knees. The male takes a graham cracker and tears it in half, before adding chocolate to one of the sides. After he’s done, he carefully places the golden fluff ball onto the cracker and closes it, offering the sweet sandwich to you with a subtle smile.

“For you,” he winks as he turns back towards the fire, putting another marshmallow onto the stick to make himself a s’more as well (and also mentally kicking himself at the sudden burst of courage). He hears you take a bite out of the snack, his knee bouncing up and down nervously as he awaits the verdict.

“Man,” you hum, “this is so good.”

“Told you,” he says, “if there’s something I’m confident in, it’s making s’mores.”

“That’s a very unuseful skill to have,” you note, but continue to eat. The comment has him chuckle and shrug.

“Well, I used it now, so I’d argue it’s actually very useful.”

A hum cuts out of your throat at this, finishing the s’more he made for you with a satisfied sigh. “Is this how you got girls back in the States?” you ask, making the male choke on his spit.

Eric was too young to get girls when he learned how to make the greatest s’mores. He went camping with his dad and his older sister and he burned a couple before he got it right. He was in middle school and before what the kids call a glow-up these days (back in the days, you just called it overcoming puberty), but still– he decides to test the waters with another lazy, half-assed flirty comment. “Only the pretty ones.”

He hears a chuckle out of you– a reaction he decides to not pay much attention to or overthink, for he doesn’t really remember what a good reaction to flirting is anymore– but then, you sigh and nod. “Well, I give your s’more a 5 star review, so I’d find that believable.”

The comment has Eric press his tongue into the inside of his cheek, battling a victorious smile that wants to oh so desperately appear on his lips. Turning his attention fully to you, he looks at you with confidence coating his insides– it only grows when he notices you staring at the side of his face, the flame of the fire twinkling in your eye and making your features sharper and twice as attractive to the poor boy.

His eyes scan you over for a few seconds before he notices a glimmer of something on the side of your lip– a chocolate stain that has him cautiously lean in and swipe a thumb over the sweetness, not even thinking twice before smoothing his finger over your skin.

“You had a little… something there,” he hums as he licks the chocolate off his thumb. Your eyes still trained on him force him to avert his gaze back to the fire– for it was unbearable, as if sparks were flying and burning his skin, everything about the interaction making goosebumps appear over his body; even though he felt hot in his cheeks and not at all cold– when the sight of his marshmallow in flames suddenly comes to him, startling him awake.

Hurriedly dragging out the burnt snack out of the fire, he hears you chuckle at him from the side– so much for not ruining the moment. (It’s okay, though. As long as you’re entertained.)

“I thought you were a master at s’mores,” you poke fun at him, “got distracted?”

Meeting eyes with you, Eric shrugs, a lazy grin settling to his lips. “I guess you could say that.”

The night progresses quickly– with Sunwoo getting so drunk he borrows Jacob’s guitar and clumsily strums the strings, freestyle rapping about the most random topics with flushed cheeks and eyes dramatically glued to the fire; Hyunjae wanting to have a competition of who can jump over the flames and Sangyeon having to stop his drunk friend with the force of his own body– and Eric finds his eyes lacking the candy he’s been occupying himself with the whole evening. You disappeared somewhere into the house a few minutes ago, and although he didn’t want to be clingy, he walked up to the cabin with a nervous pep in his step– that’s it, he just wanted to make sure you were okay.

Eric walks through the doorway, having his body immediately be met with the joined common room slash kitchen area. The cabin is kind of small (too small for the amount of people currently occupying it) and kind of old, but it’s a tradition to rent it every year during the summer, so no one ever questioned the decision or made the move to rent out a bigger one, no matter the growing friend group.

Your figure finally appears in the dimly lit kitchen area, your back turned to the doorway. Standing at the kitchen sink, it seems like you were doing the dishes– tons of plates used to carry grilled meat and sausages dumped carelessly into the sink, forgotten in a minute and leaving the last remains of food dry up on them and get hard to scrape off, a couple of glasses and mugs with their ears broken off from their age waiting with coffee stains at the bottom– and Eric immediately feels his heart fall down to his stomach, because why would one do the dishes in the middle of the night? Those usually get left there until the morning, when the least hungover person will take mercy on the rest and take care of them. Were you feeling excluded from the conversation? Did you feel bored?

“What are you doing here so alone?” he asks, making you turn your head over your shoulder and smile at him– a stone falling off his heart at the action– before you shrug at him.

“Washing the dishes,” you say, as if it wasn’t clear already.

“I see that,” Eric chuckles, “what I meant to say was, why are you washing the dishes in the first place?”

“Well, somebody’s gotta do it.”

Eric huffs– and he doesn’t even know why he’s so defensive about it. “That someone didn’t have to be you, y’know.”

He’s standing next to you now– your eyes meeting as you stare at the boy for a heartbeat– a smile spreading on your face at his furrowed brows. The action has him visibly relax, watching as you shrug and get back to the dish washing. “I just wanted some alone time for a bit,” you muse, “outside was getting too loud for a second, I’m not used to crowds.”

“Ah… once Sunwoo drinks, he can’t shut up, so I kinda get that it was starting to feel insufferable,” Eric notes, nodding at you in acknowledgement before the realization hits him. “Wait– you said you wanted to be alone, so I should probably-”

You halt him with a soft laugh– the one Eric finds his heart liking a little too much, with how it jumps up and down and makes all of him feel warm inside– a soapy hand reaching out in his direction. “It’s okay, you can stay,” you muse, “I enjoy your company.”

“O-okay,” Eric stutters– so much for the smooth lines he had prepared in his head before coming in here, all of them flying out of his head straight out of the window– and to not seem so silly, he gets his hands occupied and reaches for the clean dishes you started stacking on the counter next to the sink, deciding to dry them and put them away. The kitchen falls into a comfortable silence that only gets broken by an occasional scream landing through the walls from outside, and Eric can’t help but indulge himself in the domesticity of the act.

He can almost imagine you two washing the dishes like this in your shared apartment after you two cook dinner together and eat it in your cozy living room. That scenario sounds almost too good for the boy, having warmth slowly ooze into his cheeks, and that, he finds to be the hint that he should probably stop thinking about you in that way now or else he’ll get too distracted and break the glasses he is currently putting away. (God forbid– there were not enough of them for the entire friend group in the first place.)

“Are you having a good time, though?” Eric finds himself asking through his weird delirium.

You smile– oh god you smile, you should stop doing that if you want him to survive the night– and nod at the boy, calmness overtaking your aura and slipping into his cracks as well. “I am. It’s nice meeting new people and everyone’s very nice,” you say.

“That’s good to hear. How long have you and Yeri been friends?”

“A couple of years,” you note, “we met during high school. We always dreamt of moving away to college and living together at dorms or something, so it’s… it’s nice that it worked out for us,” you say, having Eric nod at your words with a sweet smile.

“That’s great to hear,” he muses, “I met Juyeon and Sunwoo in my freshman year of college, and the rest just… came along after a while.”

“Your friend group is pretty big,” you point out, having the boy shrug.

“I guess so,” Eric mumbles, never really thinking of it this way– in his eyes, this was normal. This was how he operated, how he lived. A lot of people around him, always close– one would think such a large friend group wouldn’t be as close with each other, but it’s quite the opposite in his case, he thinks. Maybe he was just blessed.

“How do you do that?” you sigh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I dunno,” he snickers, “guess you could say I’m quite the social butterfly.”

“I can see that,” you laugh. Eric watches you, his hands now empty of any dish– he’s been drying them quicker than you manage to clean (and rightfully so, the food is stuck on there) – he starts noticing the details of your sheer presence. How you have a slight smile playing with your lips even when your eyes are glued to the sink, how your hair slightly slips out of the claw clip and frames your face, how close you’re standing– his eyes slip towards your hands, noticing the water running down your forearms and dangerously close to the sleeves of your shirt.

Acting on reflex, mostly, the boy reaches towards your sleeves and gently tugs them up, the contact of your skin that he initiates and should realistically be prepared for making the tips of his fingers tingle, the action having you stop in your movements and glance up at him through your eyelashes– a sight he wishes he could engrave into the back of his eyelids so he could stare at it forever and always.

“Thank you,” you hum, voice barely louder than a whisper when he retracts away from you, taking his previous stance against the kitchen counter.

Eric hangs his head low for a second, clearing his throat to ease his own tension. Now is your turn to start up the conversation, a casual question falling off your lips as you get back to washing the last remains of dishes. “Yeri said you come here often?”

The boy nods enthusiastically to your sentence. “We do. We started in freshman year, because Juyeon was going to this exchange program to Paris for a couple of months, so we threw him a goodbye party. Then he came back, so we threw a welcome back party here. And then we celebrated Younghoon hyung’s birthday here, and it kind of stuck, I guess? We go here at least once a year during summer.”

“That’s a nice tradition to have,” you sigh, turning the faucet off as you finish rinsing off the last dish– a big bowl that Sangyeon used to marinate the meat a few hours ago.

“It is,” Eric nods, smiling fondly at the sentiment. He reaches for the bowl and dries it with the now damp rag (there were a lot of dishes to dry, after all), and moves to put it back to its place under the sink. With your figure still in its previous spot, the boy puts away the towel onto the kitchen counter and gently grabs your waist with his free hand, moving you away a few inches to the left. He crouches and opens the cabinet under the sink and puts the bowl into the pyramid of other ones, straightening his back when he goes back into a standing position, catching you staring at him from above, watching his every move. Your body is leaning against the counter, having Eric mirror your stance only a few inches away from you before speaking up again.

“You’re welcome to join us when we come back next time.”

The time reads 3AM– or at least that’s what his circadian rhythm tells him, because he doesn't bother to check as he twists and turns in the bed, too hot and too alert to fall asleep– when Eric decides to walk down the steep stairs and try to get some fresh air. The cabin is hot inside, but he still takes his lost button-up that he had thrown over one of the kitchen chairs and puts it on before he makes his way outside, knowing that the forest will make his bones get cold with the crisp breeze.

He opens the door and moves to sit on the little patio– the silence of outside is overwhelming even after the cabin has quieted down and everyone has gone to sleep (each one on a different level of tipsy ranging from completely chill Sangyeon to doesn’t know where he is Sunwoo– with Eric somewhere in the middle of the spectrum). His legs drag a little tiredly as he scans his surroundings– god forbid there’s a bear out waiting for him– when the sight of a figure sitting on the floor takes him by surprise, their head already turned to him after hearing the sound of the door opening.

“What are you doing here?” he asks as he walks over to you, noticing your frame dressed in a tank top and sweatpants, hinting that you at least tried to get some sleep before coming out here, just like he has.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you shrug, confirming his suspicions.

“Same here,” the man sighs, “mind if I sit with you?”

“You’re welcome to join me,” you smile at him, patting the floor next to you and watching as Eric crouches down before taking a seat on the wood, ignoring the sunbeds and old rattan chairs situated all over the patio. (If you’re on the floor, he’s on the floor– it’s as simple as that.)

You’re holding a lollipop in between your fingers, your other hand occupied with a half-empty bottle of tequila that was previously passed around the circle at the bonfire. Eric raises his brows at the sight, having you shamefully avert your gaze from him.

“I thought it would be a waste to not finish this,” you say, snickering, “and I also… kind of hoped that it would put me to sleep…”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures?”

“I guess you could say that,” you laugh. Taking a sip from the bottle, you gulp the alcohol down before putting the lollipop inside of your mouth, sucking on it and licking your lips after. This is not the way you’re supposed to drink tequila, but Eric figures that gathering salt and a lime would be too much work anyways.

“Are you really using that lollipop as a chaser?” he giggles, making you hum.

“Yeah,” you stare at him, a grin overtaking your features, “this girl taught me to do that at a party last year. It’s not as good as literally anything else, but it gets the job done. Wanna try?” you ask, offering him the sweetness on the stick and the bottle.

The truth is, you were only a bit tipsy when the group slowly started to scatter into their beds. Eric didn’t drink as much either– only enough to make him laugh at everything that was said and make his staring at you twice as obvious as it was before– so he thinks he can take some more. As you said, it would be a shame if the bottle went to waste– and also, something about the idea of drinking with you alone on the patio was making his hopeless heart hammer against his chest in dangerous measures.

“Sure,” he agrees, taking the bottle first. The boy takes a sip, feeling the alcohol burn down his throat, and when he moves the dark brown glass away from his lips, he is met with the image of you leaning closer to him, offering him the lollipop. His hand instinctively grabs the plastic stick, thinking you’re letting go of it, when he’s met with the feeling of your flesh under his fingertips. You put the lollipop against his lips, making him open up on instinct and suck on the strawberry flavored candy, a million different sensations (all unrelated to the alcohol) swimming through his brain– you’re so close, you smell so good, he’s holding your hand, he’s sucking on the lollipop you previously had in between your lips and it’s driving him crazy– before you take the candy out from between his lips and put it back into your mouth, tongue swirling around the sweet ball.

The lollipop had an aftertaste of tequila on it, but it was enough to chase down the faint bitterness– Eric finds himself wanting to taste more of the sweet strawberry, but foolishly desiring to get the sensation off your lips instead. His eyes stay locked with yours throughout the whole exchange, sparks flying in between the two of you even though the bonfire has long gone out, his fingers lazily dropping from the candy.

“How was it?” you ask, voice barely louder than a whisper– goosebumps appearing all over Eric’s skin when he swears your eyes flicker to his lips for a split second.

“Good,” he admits. It’s silly how he feels so breathless at the action.

The sound of the wind playing with the leaves of the forest is the only thing accompanying you two. It’s as if you two were thinking of the same thing when you pull out the lollipop out of your mouth and offer it back to Eric, watching with utmost interest as the boy leans closer to capture it in between his lips, never breaking eye contact. The action feels a little too electrifying to him, a little too intimate, but he can't stop– can't even imagine wanting to.

Taking a sip of the tequila, but not chasing it down with the candy, you speak up again, lazy eyes practically glued to him. “This would be a perfect moment for a kiss…” you mumble, licking your bottom lip for a split second before biting down on it.

“Are you flirting with me?” Eric foolishly asks, tone of voice a bit weak, a little unsure, the candy still in his mouth, making his words come out a little jambled.

“Mhm,” you nod, grinning to yourself– Eric wonders how much of your behavior and how much of his raging heartbeat is due to the effect of alcohol in both of your veins.

His fingers pull at yours as he takes the candy out of his mouth, voice dropping as he answers you. “Then we probably shouldn’t waste the moment.”

Even though the intentions are clear, the boy can’t bring himself to make the first move– he’s completely enchanted with your presence, staring at you with tension in his shoulders and eyes trained onto your face, watching and examining it for any shift or change. Focused on the way you move, he thinks you must have realized you were going to have to be the one to take the first step– your lazily smile before you lean closer, impossibly close– making Eric’s eyes flutter shut with anticipation, your breath fanning his face making goosebumps appear all over his body.

When your lips finally touch his, he feels like he’s being kissed for the first time again, with the amount of fuzziness in his stomach and buzzing in his ears. He regains his composure quite quickly, though, as he positions his head in a way that makes you two even closer to each other, lips pressing firmer against yours now. His hand instinctively reaches out to hold your jaw, fingertips glazing the soft skin under them, your lips retracting only to go in for more.

Blindly placing the bottle onto the floor next to your bodies, you peck his lips and sigh into the kiss. “Damn, you’re good at this…”

“We’re only getting started,” he muses, making you chuckle.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm,” he nods, watching as you once again lean in and suck on his upper lip, making his eyes flutter close again. A weight appears over him as you shift in your place and move to straddle his lap, your hand moving to cup his cheek and tilt him upwards, everything about the kisses getting more hurried– less gentle, less hesitant– when you tug on his bottom lip with your teeth and grant your tongue entry into his mouth.

Sweetness mixes in between you, your hands moving around his neck, heavy breaths shared across the patio. Eric feels like he’s levitating, his body having an out of body experience, yet being awfully present– every little shift pushing him to overdrive, the slightest touch making his skin burn and heart drum against his ribcage.

You shift in his lap, making him huff under the pressure, his lips trailing wet kisses down the side of your neck. Teeth glazing the jointure of your shoulder, kitten licking the place and sucking in a bruise that will eventually be visible to everyone when you two wake up in the morning, Eric feels your hands tugging down the sleeves of his shirt, fingers feeling up his biceps. The action makes him chuckle into your neck, but the smile fades quickly as he feels your nails scratching gently at his flaming skin.

“Take this off,” you mutter, and Eric finds it endearing– helping you take him out of the button-up, sitting under you in just a white tank top and black basketball shorts.

“Why?”

“Your arms looked good in this,” you hiss before you hide your face into his neck, leaning down to give him your fair share of kisses and love bites, having the male teasingly joke as his hands run up under your tank top, painfully aware of the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra anymore.

He moves his head to the side to give you more access before speaking out, tone of voice husky and coated in lust. “What if I get cold now?”

“Then I’m more than happy to move this to your room,” you purr into his ear.

Eric sighs, fingers playing with the hem of your top before he lets his palms drift towards your exposed stomach, roaming across naked skin. Goosebumps appear all over your body at the action, making the boy victoriously grin. “It looks like you’re the one that's cold, though, babydoll.”

Rolling your eyes at the male, you shut him up by latching yourself onto his lips before you speak against his mouth. “I’ll take that as an invitation, then?”

“Wake up Eric! The girls are leaving, you should at least go say goodbye!” Sangyeon roars into the boy's room, making the male turn over in the bed and huff out in frustration. He drags his arm up to shield his eyes from the sunlight hitting his face, the intention of just rolling over and sleeping more written very clearly in his face.

“Come on man, we’re leaving in an hour too, so you should go send them off and then pack your shit so we can load the cars,” Sangyeon says when he gets no reaction from the youngest. It’s to no use, apparently, and so as the oldest and most observant out of the group, Sangyeon decides to use physical force– he knows Eric would hate to have you go without saying goodbye. He’s not stupid. Or blind.

A strong hold on his calves drags Eric out of the bed and makes his half-naked body fall to the floor, a yelp coming out of his throat finally making Eric’s body fully alert and awake.

“Yo! What the fuck–”

“Put a shirt on and go say goodbye to Y/N before she goes, would you, sleeping beauty?” Sangyeon huffs before rolling his eyes at his younger friend, escaping the room and shutting the door close after himself with a loud thud (to add more effect to the scolding, Eric thinks).

The mention of your name has Eric quickly scrambling out of the bed. His heart hammers at the adrenaline rush, pulling a clean shirt out of his bag and dragging it over his head, the basketball shorts from yesterday’s night found on the floor being pulled over his lower frame in approximately 0.5 seconds. Eric takes the stairs 3 at a time– with how steep they are, he questions how exactly does he not trip and break his spine on his way down– and puts on a pair of slippers he finds at the door (that are not his, or his size, for the matter, making his heels comically stick out from the back).

Without checking his appearance in the mirror anywhere, he swings the door open and walks out of the cabin, watching as the group settles in a half-circle around your car, Yeri loading the trunk with her duffle bag before she closes it shut and smiles at her boyfriend Juyeon on the side. Eric joins the crowd, clearing his throat when his eyes fall onto your figure, the sight in front of him freezing him in his spot.

You’re standing there, in your jean shorts from the day before, an oversized white button-up enveloping your frame. A clueless stranger might not tell the difference, but he does– you put the shirt onto your bare skin and buttoned it just enough to reveal a bit of your cleavage– and it’s so similar to the outfit you had on yesterday, just with one difference.

You’re wearing Eric’s shirt. You’re wearing his shirt and your neck is scattered with red and purple-ish bruises, and no, Eric wasn’t that drunk and he remembers everything, but the events of last night suddenly play out right in front of his eyes like a movie, still nailing him to his spot and wiping out all of his vocabulary.

The boy feels hot in his cheeks as he watches you and your best friend pay your goodbyes to the rest of the boys, the men pulling you into side-hugs and fist bumps, shared ‘It was nice meeting you’s and ‘You should come by next time too’s resonating through the place. Soon enough, you reach the end of the make-shift half circle and lock your eyes with Eric, a playful smile softly appearing on your face.

“It was nice meeting you, Eric,” you hum, “I had fun,” you note, shooting him a knowing look.

“Me too,” he nods, nervously chewing on his bottom lip. He doesn’t know where the confidence of last night went, but he suddenly feels unarmed and lost. What does one do now?

The sight of you in his shirt makes him feel like his biggest (wet) dream has come true– call him cheesy, but it also wakes up a sense of déja vu in him from the day before– you with sunlight in your eyes, hair messed up in a claw clip. He feels like he just fell in love at first sight again. Is that even possible?

It’s good you have a sense in you that makes you take the initiative and be in charge when you see him faltering. A giggle cuts out of your throat as you lean in and hug the boy around his neck, your lips dangerously close to his ear as you speak in a hushed whisper, not wanting to be heard by the men around you.

“I stole your shirt from you, by the way. You should text me if you want it back, so we can meet up, or something,” you mouth, lips gently glazing the sensitive skin of Eric’s ear, and god does he feel like he's going to suffocate from the lack of oxygen this causes in his lungs.

“You look amazing in my clothes, so I won’t ask for it back,” Eric hums, “but I’ll text you just in case you ever wanna bless my eyes with the sight again.”

“Deal. I’ll make Juyeon text me your number,” you say before you pull away from him, shooting him a wink that almost has his knees buckling like a school boy in love for the first time.

You walk backwards and wave at the group, sending Eric one last look before you join the passenger’s side and close the car door behind you, the sound of Yeri starting the engine resonating through the quiet forest. The men wave at you until the Toyota disappears out of sight, only scattering inside when it does to gather their things and load up their cars as well.

Eric is woken up from his trance by a teasing whistle coming out of Sunwoo’s mouth and a father-like slap to his back from Sangyeon.

He wonders if he’s truly being so obvious. (He's unaware of the fact that you two had very visible matching love bites on your necks. It doesn’t take much effort to put two and two together– don't tell him that, though.)

Still, Eric shrugs and goes inside with a different kind of pep to his step.

When he licks his lips, he swears he can still taste the strawberries.

#dbn: summer on you #deoboyznet #the boyz #eric sohn #tbz #eric sohn x reader #eric sohn fluff #eric sohn angst #eric sohn scenario #eric fluff #eric angst #sohn youngjae #tbz fic #tbz x reader #tbz fluff #the boyz x reader #the boyz fluff

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peeweekey · 5 days

Text

everyone adores you (at least i do)

pairing: sam x reader

wc: 1.1k

tags: CHEEEEESY cheesy cheesy puppy love, mutual pining, sam is PATHETICALLY down bad, pre-relationship, abigail and sebastian mentioned, friends to lovers

synopsis: if it were up to sam, he'd spend every second of everyday at your side.

a/n: in all of my other sam fics, its reader embarrassingly in love with him...he gets a taste of his own medicine here lol!

With vanilla ice cream melting and dripping down your fingertips, coarse sand underneath you and the salty ocean waves lapping at your feet; you are a child again, sitting with your grandpa at the docks, watching as he reeled in a ‘big one’. Filling his bucket with loads and loads of fish.

Those days are far gone now, but the memory remains, as clear as the day you remember it. The feeling is nostalgic, sleepy in the way your senses are dulled by syrupy thick contentment. Beaches at sunset have that effect on you, you suppose.

“This is fun,” Sam says, tone lacking its boisterous loudness, you almost don’t hear it over the sound of crashing waves. “I had a lot of fun today, farmer.”

Your eyes flicker to him, his green gaze dead-set on the peachy golden sky, the taste of sea salt mingling with sweet ice cream heavy in your tongue. The sea breeze is cold, whipping against your face and running through your hair.

“I did too,” you agree. “Y’know, I don’t get a lot of off time with the farm and stuff. This is a nice change of pace.”

He smiles, that sunshine smile you’ve come to associate with Sam. “I caught you at just the right time then, huh?”

You shrug, your own smile mirroring his. “Auspicious.” He did.

The sun is setting, the day is coming to a close yet Sam wishes it wouldn’t, silently pleading with any higher being to somehow stretch time. He is barely a religious person, but the weight of his want is enough to transcend his own beliefs. Every second with you barely feels like enough; like sand slipping through his fingers.

One thing’s for certain, Sam isn’t going to just let it end here.

“We should hang out like this again,” Sam says, a little hurriedly, captured all in one breath. Shy and tentative, like a bashful child with a school crush. “Uh, I mean, do you? Wanna? Hang out with me?”

You can barely suppress a delighted chuckle from slipping past your lips, your chest warming with fond affection. “I’d be more than happy to. Yoba knows I need a break or two or I’ll actually explode,” you huff while Sam hums in agreement. “We can even invite Abigail and Sebastian… so can demo that new song for me, I see you all working very hard when I visit sometimes.”

He should be happy to hear that; that you’d be more than happy to spend your precious off time with him out of all people. You and him, him and you, Sam and the farmer. Your name connected to his with ‘and’, it makes him giddy, causes his cheeks pinken and pinken.

Just the two of you, though. Sure, he loves his friends, Abby and Seb have been with him since day one. But it feels out of place—

(Sam, Sebastian, Abigail and the farmer doesn’t have that ring to it…)

“Yeah, I—I dunno, it’s just…”

The unfiltered truth is stupid, at least to him. Vincent is far too young for some of the things Sam longs to say. There’s a reason Abby and Seb hang out under his nose, he won’t blame them, they have their own secrets he isn’t privy to—too serious, too dull for him.

(And now with you, he thinks you might just be the one he can share his own secrets with. Because even he has his own serious, dull thoughts. Thoughts that he doesn’t want brushed away with a snarky remark or a sarcastic laugh.)

“I kinda like that it’s just the two of us?”

His voice sounds unsteady, squeaky. Trailing off at the end, lost in the sound of water crashing at your feet. Phrasing his statement into a question that you could deny, that you could easily brush off—because if you did, he would too.

(It would be a bummer if you did though, but Sam is cool with that, chill with any decision you make. Really, he totally is.)

You grin, bumping your shoulder against his, your ice cream is dripping down, down, down your knuckles. Once your skin meets his, you don’t pull away, you press closer and closer to his side. Leaning your head against his sunburnt shoulder—but he barely registers the sting—and your arm against his own. It’s a pleasant weight, having you against him—grounding and tethering him to you.

“I do too. Like it, I mean. I think I get to see so many other sides to you, Sam. Without the others and all that.”

Sam feels his breath hitch, his cheeks flush even pinker even with the sunburns. “Woah, phew, I mean—awesome… When, when do you think we can meet next?”

You tilt your head, running calculations through your mind. You’re very busy on that farm, he knows; but Sam can’t help but keep his hopes up, you’re fun company. Maybe the best he’s had yet.

“I know I won’t have enough time until my melons are ready for harvesting—and don’t you dare try making a joke about that,” you smile, wide and cheeky. Right as Sam readies an innuendo at the tip of his tongue; it makes his blood pump faster and his breathing stutters at the thought of you knowing him so well.

“So how about this?” you propose slowly. “We spend one day every month doing all the stuff we wanna do, together. just you and me—fun right? I’ll even sleep a little earlier the night before.”

Sam bites into his ice cream—chocolate and your treat, at your insistence—though he isn’t quite sure if the immediate smile on his lips is due to its sweetness, or yours.

He leans closer into you, resting his head on top of yours, strands of your hair tickling his lips. Lowering his voice into a whisper so only you can hear.

(The secret is that you make Sam want. Want, want, want like he’ll never get sick of it. He hoards these stolen moments with you so greedily yet wants more.)

“…two days, two days each month.”

He feels your body shake with the strength of your laughter, warmth swirls all throughout his body, tingling wherever your body brushes against his own. Sam finds that he likes the feeling, the buzz of it—it’s addicting.

“Yeah, alright then,” you reply, mirth dripping from each and every word. “two days. We have a deal. Better?”

“Yeah,” he turns back to face the water, the ocean spray misting his face. “Yeah, a lot better. That does sound fun.”

Anything sounds fun when it involves you.

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silentsamlikesham · 7 months

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Happy Birthday Zoro!!

I was meant to write several short fics today and instead I accidentally wrote this...enjoy!!

N.B: In Japan a birthday is generally spent with a significant other and you meet your friends/family on a day close to it (according to the Internet, I'm not Japanese). I used that idea in this fic for some miss communication! So yeah keep that idea in mind!

.........

A seagull flies tiredly towards the sight of land. It had taken weeks to fly this far into the Grand Line, its important letter pressed safely to it’s chest. It’d been paid handsomely for the journey. The two buffoon humans had given it very clear instructions to deliver the letter on this date exactly.

The bird’s sharp eyes scan the docks as the bird approaches closer to a large portside town. It spots the Jolly Rodger it’s been looking for and swoops to the deck, delighted to have a moment to rest its wings.

The deck is empty, much to the bird’s annoyance. It spots an open barrel of clear water though, and flaps over to it, drinking hungrily from it.

“Oi, bird.” Its eyes flick to a blonde-haired human stalking towards it. It pulls its beak from the barrel, happily sighing after hours of seeing only the seawater beneath it. “That’s for us, is it?”

It presses its chest forward, letting the human unclasp the string on the pouch and pull out the letter tucked inside.

“Eh? This isn’t the paper.” The curly eyebrows on the human’s face furrow as he inspects the envelope.

Sanji does his best to read the smudged name on the front, but the characters have bled together too much to discern it.

“This definitely for us?” The bird stares at him before pointing its beak at the Jolly Rodger above them. Before Sanji could ask how much they owe the bird, it takes off, clearly satisfied with its job.

“Weird.” The cook mutters to himself as he returns to the galley. He’d been enjoying the peace of organising the pantry after they’d restocked it yesterday. Everyone was off the ship except for Franky who was up in the crow’s nest on watch. He must be tinkering with something though, seeing as he didn’t notice the messenger bird himself.

The rest of the crew had disembarked to explore the island. Last Sanji had seen them most of the crew had been heading to the centre of the town to explore. Except for the mosshead that Sanji had watched head the opposite direction, inevitably in the middle of getting lost.

Sanji grabs a small knife from one of galley’s drawers and neatly cuts the top of the envelope open. A small piece of paper rests inside along with some berri. Sanji lets the money tumble onto the counter, now even more confused.

The slip of parchment is in much better shape than the envelope, but the handwriting is almost just as bad. The writer clearly didn’t have much experience in writing, but Sanji manages to read through it. His eyebrows raise as he takes in the words, slowly realising it’s meant for a certain green-headed idiot. It’s signed off by the two bounty hunters Sanji had met at Arlong Park, old friends of the Marimo.

They’re wishing him a happy birthday, the date on the letter matching perfectly with the day itself. They must have sent it some time in advance for a seagull to get all the way here to them.

It was the idiots birthday? He hadn’t said a damn word about it to them. He knew Sanji always cooked the crewmate’s favourite dish and dessert for the day. Nami probably would have given him extra money for a nice drink too, knowing how kind and wonderful the woman is.

Sanji lights the cigarette hanging from his lips. Unless the moron didn’t want them to know. It’d be just like him to see something like a birthday as unimportant or being embarrassed by the attention. He shifts his weight from foot to foot as he takes a few drags, reading the warm message sent by the bounty hunters, telling him to buy a drink on them with the berri enclosed. Clearly, he had told them about the day, had celebrated it at least once before with them.

Sanji slams his fist angrily on the counter, not quite sure where the emotion comes from, but screw the Marimo. He isn’t getting out of celebrating his birthday just because he thinks it’s above him. He’s sorely mistaken if he thinks he’ll avoid Sanji’s wrath when it comes to making a birthday dinner.

With his resolve solidified, Sanji begins piecing the ingredients together. He doesn’t realise it until he’s an hour into crafting the food, but he’s only making enough for two people. Well, he must go find the idiot. There’s no way Sanji will get the crew altogether at this point, and Zoro doesn’t have a chance of being back before midnight if he’s gone off on his own. As it stands, Sanji will be lucky to find him before nightfall.

He packs the meal into a basket when it’s ready, carefully packing it so nothing will be smushed or ruined. He briefly thinks of bringing two glasses with him but decides to just pack a bottle of sake and wine, the oaf will happily swig from the bottles anyways.

He calls up to Franky when he finally disembarks, the sky is coloured pink behind the crow’s nest, and Sanji feels a tension inside him to hurry up. The engineer hollers a goodbye as he leaves, making his way down the same route the swordsman had gone hours before. There’s deep sand on most of the route, and Sanji can make out the fake indent of the only pair of footsteps that have taken the path today.

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

He finds the swordsman just as it’s getting dark enough that Sanji’s cigarette is becoming a guide of sorts, helping him from tripping over rocks and roots. The Marimo is swinging his swords around, cutting lightly into the bark of trees as his body twists and his legs seem to float beneath him.

For everything that Sanji hates about the other, he’s a beautiful fighter. There’s a grace to his power, a purpose to his strength and an elegance to his footwork. Sanji watches him for a moment, almost forgetting about his reason for showing up.

He’s soon brought back to the moment as Zoro catches sight of him in the corner of his vision. Of course, the idiot turns in his surprise and lunges forward, expecting the worst. Sanji easily kicks him out of his course to skewer the blonde. The mosshead isn’t expecting the kick and the darkness briefly confuses him as he stops his motion against a tree, coughing as the impact of the kick rattles his ribcage.

“Oi, what the fuck dart-brows?” He’s glaring at Sanji now, his pupils holding a glint from the flame of the cigarette. “Only way to land a hit is to sneak up on me?”

Sanji bites clean through his filter, letting his cigarette fall to the ground.

“Maybe if your reactions weren’t as slow as a door, then you could have blocked it.”

“Eh? You want to say that to me again?” Zoro’s voice is dangerous as he marches forwards.

He’s been training for hours, trying to work on quicker footwork rather than brute force. He’s tired, but also itching for a proper fight. He lunges at the cook, only being stopped as the blunt side of his katanas are blocked by a leg catching them in an X.

Sanji barely moves an itch at the impact, one of his hands in his pocket, his body somehow almost perfectly upright despite the angle of the kick. Zoro will never understand how a man can be so flexible.

“Watch it, idiot. If any of this goes to waste, I’ll kill you.” Zoro’s eye flick down to where Sanji briefly looks, only now noticing the basket handle he’s clutching.

“What is it?” Zoro leans back, his swords falling by his side as he studies the woven basket. It’s one the cook usually brings onto an island for lunch when they eat out on the sand. Maybe he’s doing the rounds on the crew.

“Food, so put your swords away and wash your hands over there.” Sanji motions to a nearby stream, his nose wrinkling at the sight of how sweat covered Zoro is. The swordsman listens for once, rolling his eyes as he heads over to it. He’d argue more but suddenly his rumbling stomach is reminding him that he hasn’t eaten anything since breakfast. He can always beat the cook’s face into the ground afterwards.

He uses the jumper he’d thrown off earlier to dry his face and hands after washing in the stream, and by the time he returns he’s met with quite the surprise. Sanji has sat himself down on a picnic blanket, he’s fussing over the layout of some rice balls on a plate. Rice balls, Zoro’s favourite thing to eat. Beside them is several plates of Zoro’s favourites food, most of them dishes he’d grown up eating. A nice bottle of Sake rests beside the empty side of the blanket, Sanji having a bottle of wine resting against his hip. Zoro feels like he’s accidentally walked into an alternative universe, maybe the forest is haunted, or this is some devil users influence.

“What the fuck, cook?” He stands over Sanji, his arms crossed as he deliberates unsheathing a sword or not.

“What?” Sanji growls, staring up at him with his one uncovered eye. “You got a problem, Mosshead?”

Zoro squats down, getting close to Sanji’s face, studying the familiar bump of his nose, the curve of his brows, the sweep of his hair. Sanji freezes, finally looking as confused as Zoro.

“You look like, Curley. Did you bang your head or something?” Zoro leans back on his heels.

Sanji is reeling, his lips still tingling from the tickle of breath that had ghosted over them when Zoro had spoken so close to him. He’s used to feeling breathless when they get that close, used to feeling a flush on his neck and a tightening in his gut, but usually it’s because he’s pissed off and about to unleash his best attacks. This isn’t that.

“Wha-What are you talking about?” Sanji shakes his head, trying to clear it.

“This.” Zoro waves at the blanket. “Why the fuck did you make all this? This is- well this is all stuff I like. You make this for the whole crew?”

Sanji breathes out a sigh of relief. Of course, the idiot is confused.

“I do this for everyone’s birthday, moron. Even yours.” He lights himself another cigarette, so he doesn’t have to look at Zoro’s reaction.

Zoro stares at Sanji for a long uncomfortable silence. The cook made all this for him? He came out here with it prepared for just the two of them to enjoy together? Not the whole crew, not like usual, not really. This is different. He’s treating Zoro differently. He’s planned this for just the two of them…on Zoro’s birthday…

Zoro sits the other side of the plates, grabbing a rice ball and taking a bite out of it. As always, it tastes annoyingly good. Every flavour and texture exactly how Zoro likes it, the weirdo having studied him for the months they’ve been travelling together. Hold on-

“How did you know it was my birthday?”

Sanji can feel the tick of annoyance on the back of his head. Of course, instead of giving any sign of enjoying the food or a compliment, the brute has to be suspicious. Instead of replying, Sanji grabs the slip of paper out of the inner pocket of his blazer and passes it over to Zoro, grabbing a rice ball for himself as his hand passes back over the picnic. He’s hungry too.

Zoro reads it while loudly chewing on another mouthful of food. Sanji tries to ignore how disgusting it is by studying the expression on Zoro’s face. The mosshead must feel him watching because he keeps his expression schooled, although his lips still perk up in the corners. He laughs a bit as he tucks it into his pocket.

Zoro doesn’t say anything more about it. The two eat in silence for a while, Zoro making his way through the sake at a scary pace, before pawing at Sanji for some of his wine too. The cook allows him, for once, given it is his birthday. But when the sound of eating starts to die down, he can’t help but ask the question that’s been eating at him ever since he opened the letter.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone it’s your birthday?”

Zoro wipes the back of his hand over his mouth, wiping away the dribble of red wine from his lips. He’s messy about it though and his bottom lip still glistens a bit, the shine only lit by the moonlight that was breaking through the trees above them, and the one candle Sanji had lit so they could see what they were grabbing.

“I didn’t think it was a big deal.” Zoro shrugs, eating the last of the fish to clean the final dish. “Plus, I didn’t want one of your shitty cakes.”

“Excuse me?” Sanji is genuinely floored by the comment. How dare the green haired idiot-

“They’re too sweet.” Zoro complains, playing with the hilt of his sword instead of saying it to Sanji’s face.

“No, you just hate sweet things.” Sanji huffs, putting some plates away in case he needs to lunge at the green-haired idiot to strangle him.

“And I wouldn’t make one for your birthday anyways, Marimo. I wouldn’t be the future pirate king’s cook if I was that bad at reading my crewmates tastes.”

Sanji feels his cheeks heat up as Zoro turns to him with a studying look, suddenly intrigued, or maybe impressed.

“Although now I don’t think you deserve the dessert I did make.” Sanji folds his arms, not quite over the earlier insult.

Zoro ignores the pout and reaches into the basket instead, Sanji watches him out of the corner of his eye. He can’t explain to himself why he’s suddenly so nervous about what Zoro will think of his choice of Birthday dessert.

The swordsman pulls out a small tub of one of the few desserts he genuinely enjoys, one that he remembers eating every summer at the dojo, passing them out between his classmates. He picks up one of the warabi mochi like it’s delicate, like he might crush it before it makes it to his mouth. Sanji had only made the dessert once, and Zoro had complained about some aspects of it. He thought the cook would never bother to try it again.

This time, it’s perfect. An honest moan leaves Zoro’s mouth as he swallows, his tongue licking at some of the filling that was left on his lips. Sanji feels his whole face flush red at the sight. His heart is drumming in his chest now, his eyes flicking between Zoro’s eyes and his lips. He watches his Adam’s apple as he swallows the first piece.

Sanji’s mouth dries up, his palms suddenly clammy. Zoro has never reacted so openly to anything Sanji has made for him. It unsettles him, it leaves him feeling warm and clumsy. He throws the bud of his smoked cigarette away and finds his fingers are shaking.

“You made this today, just for my birthday?” Zoro’s voice is soft, a foreign tone to Sanji’s ears.

“Obviously, idiot.” Sanji looks away then, he can’t look weak. He can’t let the mosshead realise how sick he suddenly feels. He wants to run away, to forget that Zoro can be soft, that the two of them can sit like this.

He hears Zoro moving, can feel him getting closer on the blanket. But he doesn’t say a word. When Sanji turns his head to see what the fuck is going on, he feels Zoro’s hand as it grasps the back of his head. He stares at Zoro’s closed eyes as their lips meet.

Sanji is pretty sure his heart stops. He feels winded as rough lips kiss him softly, as Zoro’s grip on the back of his neck is light, nothing like the way they usually grab one another. His lips taste like the syrup drizzled on the mochi and Sanji’s chef brain registers how it interacts with the dessert wine he’d brought with him, unintentionally matching the two so they form the perfect taste between their lips.

Sanji is breathless, his stomach now feeling like its own oven as a fire ignites. He can feel blood rushing south, his body reacting in a split second to something he hasn’t had since he left the Baratie, something he hasn’t had time to have.

He’s enjoying it, getting lost in the other body that draws itself closer to him. It’s only when Sanji’s eyes flutter closed, when his lips match the rhythm of the ones against them, that his brain catches up to body.

This is Roronoa Zoro he’s kissing.

Sanji pushes against the Marimo’s chest, Zoro falling back on his hands as he stares confused at the reaction. As though Sanji is the crazy one. Sanji places two fingers to his lips, his expression horrified.

“What the fuck was that?” He screams, waving his hands around, not sure if he should be kicking the oaf or running as quick as he can back to the ship.

“What?” Zoro huffs, not moving away from the blonde but glaring down at the sand in front of them. He looks confused too, like he wasn’t expecting Sanji to question him.

“What? What? You just kissed me, Mosshead. What the fuck is that about?” Sanji realises he’s panting between his words. He’s pretty sure he’s going into shock from how quick his blood pressure has risen.

Zoro’s gaze whips to the blonde, feeling hurt that Sanji is making a big deal about this, as though the cook didn’t start it.

“People kiss on dates!” He throws back, defensive as he realises, he’s just been rejected.

Sanji can’t even process the words Zoro has just spoken.

“What are you talking about?”

“Never mind.” Zoro goes to get up then, beyond embarrassed as he realises he’s spent the last half an hour misreading the situation entirely. Might as well make the rest of this as painless as possible to hopefully save face.

“Wait, you stupid fucking moss for brains.” Sanji grapples at Zoro’s wrist, pulling him back onto the blanket before he can straighten up. The cook is panicking now, thinking back to everything he’d said since arriving, unsure where Zoro’s logic had jumped to thinking it was a date.

I mean, the situation was very date like, Sanji muses. But it’s Zoro and Sanji, having a picnic beneath the moon and stars isn’t a date, it’s a truce.

Zoro looks furious now, his whole body is tense like a spring coiled to bounce. Sanji is starting to piece together the blush on the other’s face is genuine. Zoro thought it was a date. He kissed Sanji because he wanted to. He likes him.

The earth tilts beneath Sanji as he realises he’s not instantly disgusted. He stares at his own hand, anchoring Zoro in place. He clearly doesn’t want the swordsman to leave. Sanji doesn’t want this to be over.

“Why did you think it’s a date?” He almost whispers the words, afraid he’s hallucinating. That Zoro is going to turn and ask him what the fuck he’s on about.

“You- You made me a picnic for just the two of us…on my birthday.”

The sentence still doesn’t make the most sense to Sanji. He supposes, if he’d done it for a woman, maybe Sanji would see it as a possible first date. But the term first date and Zoro has no connection in his brain. It feels impossible that the two could be linked.

“I- I get that, baka. But- Well I- that doesn’t automatically mean it’s a date.” Sanji protests, letting Zoro slip his wrist away when he realises he’s not going to bolt.

“Well, that’s what people do on their birthday.” Zoro grumbles, looking anywhere but at Sanji. “They spend it with someone they like.”

He says the last word with a heavy emphasis so that it can’t be misunderstood.

Sanji is at a loss. He’s never heard of such a thing.

“Marimo, I have no idea what you mean. Most people spend it with family and friends.”

Zoro looks at him then, with genuine surprise.

“Not where I come from.” He splutters, showing his embarrassment now as his face flushes bright red, even worse than before. “Couples spend it together, and then- then you spend it with friends on a different day.”

Zoro wants the ground to swallow him up. He can handle rejection, he can handle being wrong, but he hates that he didn’t realise what he was doing. He though Sanji had been the one to be vulnerable, to offer up a date the way he did. He’d been surprised by the blonde’s bravery about it, had accepted the silent confession and responded to it as confidently as he could muster.

He’s an idiot.

Sanji takes in the unfamiliar expression of regret on the other man’s face, and feels his chest tighten. He doesn’t want Zoro to regret this. Sanji doesn’t regret it. As the confusion lifts, Sanji properly accepts his own reaction. It’s…unexpected…but then again, everything is on the Grand Line.

“Look Cook, just forget-”

It’s Zoro’s turn to be surprised by a hand grabbing his chin, by lips pressing onto his own and by the blonde that leans forward so close, Zoro could swear he was sitting on the swordsman’s lap.

“I was surprised, idiot. I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

Zoro stares into Sanji’s eyes, their foreheads resting against one another as Sanji separates from the kiss long enough to speak.

“Well, you seemed fucking pissed off.” Zoro defends, muttering the words almost against Sanji’s lips.

Sanji sighs, Zoro scrunching up his nose at the sensation across his skin.

“That’s…fair.” Sanji feels Zoro’s arm wrap around his waist, he relaxes against the other man’s chest, a hand reaching up to caresses the side of Zoro’s face and run itself through his hair.

Sanji lets out a chuckle.

“This feels like a dream.” He admits, suddenly wondering how much wine he drank. Maybe, this is a dream.

“I know.” Zoro agrees, his arm tightening it’s hold on Sanji. His other arm wraps under Sanji’s ass and tugs him up onto Zoro’s thighs. The position a lot more comfortable than sitting side by side.

Sanji laughs as he’s manhandled, not used to someone as strong as Zoro holding him in his arms. Strangely, it’s the least intimidated Sanji has ever felt in the presence of the other man.

“I don’t want to wake up.” Sanji confesses, his heart fluttering as he comes to terms with what’s happening. The brute can love, the brute can be soft and gentle and hold Sanji like he’s both diamond and glass.

“You’re such a fucking sap.” Zoro groans, his cheeks pink from the words. “Just don’t say another fucking thing and kiss me already.”

Sanji laughs as he tightens his grip on Zoro’s head, pulling at the tufts of hair hard enough that Zoro lets out a hiss of pain. That the moss-head looks at him with the same eyes he uses before they fight. The electricity is there, static between them, as fiery as ever.

“Anything for the birthday boy.”

Sanji is right about his earlier prediction. Zoro doesn’t make it back to the ship before midnight. Although, it’s not for a reason he could ever have predicted.

Instead, when midnight rolls around the pair of them lie on the picnic blanket, everything else packed away. They stare at the stars as they lie side by side, Sanji’s head resting on Zoro’s arm as they hold each other.

Zoro stares at the blonde as Sanji points out constellations and tries to explain to Zoro how he can use them to not get so lost all the time. But the swordsman is not paying attention. Only one thought remains in his head now.

He has one hell of a thank you letter to write to his bounty hunter friends.

#one piece #one piece zosan #roronoa zoro #sanji #zosan #fanfic #vinsmoke sanji #zoro #zoro x sanji #zosan fanfic #happy birthday zoro #zoro birthday #idiots #misscommunication #they're in love your honor #zosan fanic #zosan fluff

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aleenuhs · 15 days

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Can you make a drabble where the reader asks Arthur for advice? The reader went through a difficult time and she would like to ask Arthur for help. You can do it platonically or romantically, I'd just like a little fluff with angst.

⋆Confide in Me

thank u anon. i am so sorry that i got back this really late, its been a whirlwind of things.

warnings: nun much just fluff and smidge of angst.

Lately you’d been down. Moping around camp and hardly carrying your own weight, so you were having a hard time needless to say.

Barley finishing your chores, your mind was filled with the negativity energy that clouded your judgement. Finding no time to be alone or without your thoughts for even a moment.

Nobody had noticed you and how you carried yourself for the last few days, well, most people in the gang had been out and about the land, hunting — robbing, stealing. Whatever they did outside of camp.

It felt so lonely but crowded at the same time, like you were a ghost in a room full of people.

Your life had been characterized by an overwhelming desire to escape, but a lack of direction harbored you. From your childhood till now, you wanted to leave, find a home. And even around these people who treated you so well, you felt lost. Arthur had tried talking to you, but you quickly ended it, shutting down any opportunity for him to ask if you were okay.

Arthur, had just came back from a hunting trip with the Charles, bringing back 2 deer carcasses.

You were sitting on a flipped over crate, which created something like a seat, which wasn’t to your comfort but you didn’t want to sit on the ground. You needed some kind of break, maybe even someone to confide in.

Arthur was at his tent, moving some stuff around, you looked at him, quickly looking away when his gaze turned back to you. A moment passed by and he kneeled next to you.

“Hey love,” he said, lowering his head to look at you, your gaze was locked to the floor and the blades of grass surrounding. Though it was hot out, the breeze felt nice.

You chose your words, and replied back. “Hi,” you said, barely audible, he had to strain to hear you.

“You doin’ alright there?” He said, still kneeling next you. You looked at him, you nodded, then took it back, shaking your head, tears threatening your eyes. His face contorted into a more worried expression, his hand went to your thigh. “Hey — what’s wrong?” He’d sensed something was up, the way you were hardly talking for the past few days, just finishing up chores. Which you didn’t like to do, but it was your distraction.

“I’ve…” You started, then retired as you could hardly find the words to express what you had been feeling for the longest. You and Arthur were no strangers, you knew him well and he knew you very well, and how he loves you is for eternity. But you could be closed off at times.

“I don’t know Arthur.” You spoke and his eyes looked sad as he looked at you. “I feel so alone, here.”

He brings you closer, taking you into his arms, now sitting on the ground with you in his arms, he slowly brushed your hair away from your face. “Whys that? Is someone making you feel that way?”

You immediately rejected that idea, as it was not true. “No, it’s not that Arthur. I don’t know how to explain it, I feel like I’m just free floating and nobody sees me here, I feel down. And it’s all coming back to me.” You shed a few tears, but you weren’t full fledged sobbing.

He nods, “Understood. Y’know, I see you. Always.” He said calmly, it comforted you like hell. “I’m here for you, come to me.”

“I know, but you’ve been gone for the time being. And I missed you so much.” You admitted.

“I can’t skip my chores or duties here, but if it’s somethin’ like this, I’ll try and stay here for you. You mean s’much to me, if I lost you I’d go mad.” He said stroking your hair. And at once, your problems weren’t gone, but you knew you had a solid rock to lean on. And it was Arthur.

“Yeah. Thank you, Arthur.” You looked up at him, he thumb reaches up to swipe a tear from your cheek, kissing your forehead.

a/n if u liked this pls req more, they’ll be open for a bit (check guidelines and info to see who and what I write for!)

#red dead redemption 2 #fluff #angst #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #red dead redemption two #red dead redemption arthur

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gojocp · 10 months

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"now playing:.."

cw: fluff, angst(??) in itadori's part featuring: gojo satoru, geto suguru, megumi fushiguro, nanami kento, yuuji itadori

a/n: the way i literally deleted all of the fic and had to redo it. also has anyone read the webtoon 'weak hero' cuz im re-reading it and there are literally ZERO fics abt it. also pls lmk if u find any apocalypse-type jjk or aot fics. lmk how this is!! (i think i turned geto in another version of gojo, i literally cannot write for anyone but him its so sad. also i feel like megumi's made no sense LMAO)

GOJO SATORU: 'always forever' by cults. "you and me.. always, forever!! we could stay.. alone, together!!" ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"hey, stop! get away suguru!" utahime shouts, running away from the 16 year old. "nope, sorry utahime! no tag-backs!!" he responds, slapping her back and running away.

"fine! screw you!" she shouts, running to haibara and tagging him quickly.

"haibara! get me!" yells suguru, waving his arms. "okay! if you say so!" haibara responds, doing as the upperclassmen says.

"thanks!" he smiles, making a bee-line towards utahime. "stop it! (y/n) help me, please! why aren't you two playing?" she yells.

"we're tired man.." satoru says, resting his head on yours as you lean against his shoulder, eating a popsicle.

"you were sitting there the whole time!" shoko exclaims. "you didn't even do anything." nanami agrees, having yet to be caught.

"if you need some shade you're free to join us." you say. "no thanks, we're actually getting excercise, unlike you guys. so lazy.." suguru responds.

"hey! stop ganging up on us! we'll sit if we want to! get lost!!" satoru shouts.

.・。.・゜✭・.

after 10 minutes of running around some more, the others decide to call it a day and take a seat in the shade of a seperate tree, not wanting to disturb the two of you. and not wanting to deal with satoru complaining.

"hey, this is nice y'know.." satoru starts, "just being alone together, while the others do their own thing. we should do this more often, just the two of us." he continues. "yeah, it's nice." you agree, looking up and placing a kiss on his jaw.

"hey! look at the sunset!" utahime exclaims, directing your attention away from your boyfriend for a moment. "oo, it's so pretty!" you gush.

"yeah," satoru agrees, looking at you. "it is pretty."

0:40 ——|———————— -3:20

GETO SUGURU: 'lovers rock' by tv girl. "and if you're too drunk to drive, and the music is right. she might let you stay, but just for the night" ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

just like any teenager, suguru believes he can hold alcohol pretty well. he can't.

when shoko sneaks alcohol into the dorms, she convinces the 4 of you to try some. of course, satoru boasts about how well he can tolerate alcohol and challenges suguru to a 'drink off', as he says. after taking a few drinks from his glass, satoru is out cold. shoko decides to put the bottle away and take satoru to his room, leaving you with your drunk boyfriend to take care of.

"please get up, sugu. let me take you back to your room." you say, trying to convince him to get off your lap. "nahh, i'm good." he responds, slurring his words.

"okay fine, stay there then." you say, standing up and leaving him to lay on the floor. "wait-! where are you going? don't leave!" he exclaims, standing up too quickly. you move to catch him, swinging one of his arms over your shoulder to support his weight.

"back to your room, suguru," you respond, "that's where we're going."

"no! i don't wanna." he says stubbornly, wrapping his other arm around you. "wait- stop! we're gonna fall!" you shout. "then we can fall..!" he giggles.

"oh my god, you're so stubborn. i'm taking you to my room." you say, slightly agitated. "ooo, didn't know you were like that." he says, wriggling his eyebrows. 'kill me now.' you think, realizing your mistake, knowing he won't leave you alone about it.

"let's hurry to your room then." he says, leaving a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

you drag him to your room and drop him on the bed and head to the bathroom to do your skincare. when you come back, you find him staring at you, love prominent in his eyes.

"hey, cutie." he flirts with a grin on his lips. "shut up and go to bed." you respond.

"ow, so rude." he says, making himself comfortable under the covers.

"i love you.." he says, giving you a wet kiss on the cheek. "i love you too, go to sleep." you say, facing away from him. he wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer, kissing your nape a few times and snuggling into your neck.

"goodnight.." he mumbles, falling asleep soon after. "goodnight, sugu."

1:20 ————|—————— -3:20

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO: 'see you again' by tyler, the creator. "can i get a kiss? and can you make it last forever..." ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

it's not often you and your friends get to hang out, often too busy with school work.

"wooo! i love the beach!" yuuji exclaims, chasing nobara as you all make your way to the sand. upon arriving, itadori quickly takes off his shoes and clothes, leaving him in his swimwear and runs into the water.

"guys!! (y/n)!! nobara!! megumi!! come swim!!" he exclaims, waving his arms. "coming!! wait up!" nobara says, running into the water.

after placing the towels and bags on the sand, you and megumi make your way to the water. "ugh! stop splashing me itadori!" nobara yells, splashing water back at itadori.

stepping into the water, megumi holds his hand out for you. "here." he says, offering you his hand. "thank you." you say, smiling at him. "eww! you guys are gross!" nobara says, splashing you with water as itadori joins in, splashing megumi.

"hey!" megumi scolds, throwing a beachball at itadori. "ow! what the hell?" itadori exclaims, as nobara laughs at him. "don't laugh, nobara!!"

"whatever.." she responds, splashing him again and swimming off. "get back here!" says itadori. "never!!" she retorts, getting splashed seconds later.

.・。.・゜✭・.

"oh god.. i'm so tired.." you say, heading back to the dorms. "i need a massage so bad." you continue. "i could give you one when we're back?" megumi offers, the others not being able to hear over their yells and shouts at each other. "i'd like that, thank you!" you beam, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

after changing your clothes, you lay down and megumi begins massaging the knots out of your back. letting out a sigh of pleasure, you say, "thank you, megumi.." you say, smiling softly. "anytime." he responds fondly.

after a bit of silence, megumi decides to break it. "you know, sometimes i wonder.." if you look both ways when you cross my mind. "yeah?" you urge him to continue. "no, nevermind.." he replies. "you sure?" you ask. "yeah." he says smiling. "okay.." you say, deciding not to push him.

"i'm done.." he says, moving away and tucking you in. "can i get a kiss?" you ask, as he starts to leave. and can you make it last forever? smiling, he walks over and places a soft kiss on your lips. "goodnight.." he says. "goodnight... i love you." you say, smiling up at him. "i love you too." he says, placing another kiss on your cheek and shutting the door behind him.

2:00 ——————|———— -3:20

NANAMI KENTO: 'for the first time' by mac de marco. "it's just like seeing her.. for the first time..again.." ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

two weeks. it had been two weeks since kento had seen you face-to-face. having to go on a mission out of the country, he wasn't very fond of leaving you alone for a long time. and even though you reassured him over and over, saying "oh, i'll be fine!! don't worry," and "it's only two weeks.. you'll be back in no time." he still worried.

and after two dreadful and godawful (according to him) weeks, he was finally back in japan, handing in his report.

"alright, that's everything. you're free to leave." upon hearing those words, he rushed out and quickly headed home.

"kento?" you asked, when you heard the front door open. "i'm home." he said warmly, with a fond smile etched on his face. 'they're so beautiful, just like when we first met.' running up to him, you wrap your arms around his neck and give him a warm hug, asking "how are you?".

"i'm okay, how have you been?" he asks. "ehh, it's been the same." you respond. squeezes his arms around your waist tighter and places soft kisses on your face.

"what's gotten into you, kento?" you question, laughing softly. "i missed you." he states, placing a final kiss on your forehead. "i missed you too, dear. how about you shower and we can eat? i made your favourite." you say, smiling up at him. "okay.. wait for me, my love." he responds, leaving to go shower.

.・。.・゜✭・.

after eating, you both head to bed and lie down. wrapping your arms around kento, you rest your head on his shoulder and look up at him.

"i missed you kento.." you say sleepily. "i missed you too." he responds. "i love you.." you add, letting sleep engulf you. "i love you too." he whispers, while softly sleeping.

'it's just like seeing her for the first time.. again..'

2:40 ————————|—— -3:20

YUJI ITADORI: "i'll never smile again" by tommy dorsey. 'i'll never smile again...untill i smile at you' ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

'how did this happen?' he thinks to himself. 'this was supposed to be a grade one curse, where the hell did the special grade come from?'

you and yuuji were paired up to travel to shibuya to excorsise a grade one curse. easy enough, right? WRONG!! like all missions in shibuya, something had to go wrong, and in this case, a special grade appeared. you both tried your best to excorsise it, but all your efforts were futile as you were knocked out, and the curse remained in the city.

it had been two hours since then, another sorceror was sent to excorsise the curse. but yuji didn't care, his partner was unconsious and greatly injured, for heavens sake! you had been impaled in the arm and legs and cursed buds were planted inside you, growing deeper and deeper the more you used cursed energy.

i mean, it was already bad enough that an s grade curse appeared, but know you can't even use cursed techniques? the 15 year old couldn't recall what he had done to deserve this, but that's because he didn't do anything. the world is just cruel.

he couldn't ever imagine smiling or being truly happy in a world without you. you were the love of his life. you were his everything. he couldn't lose you too.

'i'll never smile again, until i smile at you.' he thinks to himself. 'please.. whatever god is up there, please save my partner.. i'm begging you..'

love really is the most twisted curse of all.

3:20 ——————————| -3:20

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iblameashley · 5 months

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Regimented Trust

Military | Male | Gay

1,690~ words Content: mostly tame, but please consider the topics to include... trauma, mental health, amputation (leg), solitude, distrust, anxiety, companionship, connections, budding romance.

Captain John Price | Male/GN Reader

!!!SFW!!!

In a support group for military veterans, You and Price navigate the complexities of healing, trust, and camaraderie. As walls slowly crumble and bonds form over the course of many nights and pints, will Price's relentless optimism break through your defences?

You sat there in the dimly lit room of the support group. The building was more depressing than the reality of your life, a thought you had mused every time you came here. The circle of chairs was a little fuller this week, which was always nice to see, but your focus was less on them, and more towards a certain Captain.

John Price sat there across from you, another soldier, but unusual in that he was the first man higher ranking than a Sergeant. His deep brown eyes had a way of boring deep inside you, stirring something you had worked hard to suppress.

Tonight was a rather quiet night, not many people had wanted to speak up. Some nights were like that.

You scratched at the spot on your prosthetic where your leg used to be. Phantom limb, phantom itch. You always felt it around people.

“We're all here for a reason.” Price gruffly mumbled, likely trying to be the leader he naturally was. “War leaves its marks on all of us... and, for a time, I thought all that mattered was patriotism and duty to serve.”

His voice seemed laced with regret and anger.

You felt a twitch in your mouth as you tried to maintain your composure. It was difficult to be here on most days, but the desire you harboured for Price betrayed the promise you had made; never let anyone back in. Don't trust people.

“Trust takes time.” Price continued.

Was he reading your fucking mind? You couldn't help but wonder as he stared at you. You assumed this was meant for you, specifically.

“...that's okay. But we're here to get better, to be better... whatever that may mean, or whatever path that may take us down.” Spoken like a true leader, but you were still unconvinced.

But as ever, Price's motivational speeches had an effect, and some other men in the group began to share things here and there; a nightmare they had. A fallen comrade. Medical discharge from service, and loved ones abandoning them.

That one hit you hard.

That damn itch!

As the group session ended, Price lingered behind as he always did. He checked up on the men who spoke, reassured them as they went on their way, and helped clean up the room.

You had missed the end of the session, being lost in thought. You just sat on the chair, staring into the nothingness as the clean up crew worked around you.

Price had been watching, and gathering the courage, he finally approached.

“Hey.” Price said in his gravelly, commanding voice. “Seems you've been carrying a heavy load as of late. Care to talk about it one on one?” He asked.

Your eyes flickered to Price with a mix of surprise and distrust. Sure you had spoken a few times, participated just enough to not set off any alarms with the other members – or so you thought.

You sat there in silence long enough for Price to deem this important enough for his attention. He swiftly grabbed a chair from the stack. He set it down at an awkward angle from you before plunking himself into it.

He crossed his arms as he leaned back and stared you down.

“I've seen men crumble under some heavy weight.” I said in a factual, flat tone. “If I can help, I want to.”

You sighed and slumped your shoulders, leaning slightly back in your chair.

“Easy for you to say.” You chide. “Always so composed and proper.”

Price gave an amused smile and deep chuckle. “Just a part of my charm, yeah?” He said in a teasing tone. “But I have to be composed and proper, I'm still actively serving, and I do my men no favours by breaking down when they need me the most.” He explains, shifting his tone to something kinder. Honest.

“I've seen too much.” You replied. Why the hell did your leg still itch so fucking much?

You take a deep breath and exhale slowly. “It's difficult to believe there is anything good left. In me or the military.”

Price leaned a forward slightly and nodded. “Well mate, maybe you just need to look in the right places.” He smiled with a glint in his eyes. “How about we talk a bit more at the pub down the road. A drink won't solve your problems, but might help give you the courage to open up a bit, yeah?” He offered, already beginning to stand.

You resisted the smile that was tugging at your face.

You shook your head and sighed again.

“Gonna make that an order, Captain?” The words had seemed more snarky and less flirty in your head. Shit.

“If that's what it takes, I suppose I could.” Price nodded, his face unreadable. “Come on mate, its a pint with a fellow soldier. My treat.”

“Relentless aren't you?” You chuckled, shaking your head.

Fuck it.

You stood up and grabbed your jacket.

“Age before beauty.” You smirked, gesturing for Price to lead.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

One pint at a pub down the street had turned into two and then three. One night had turned into five, and before you knew it, you were spending more time with Price after support meetings.

You had even braved a few pubs with him on days with no meetings.

Price had managed to loosen your lips and pry a little more information from you during these times, but you still kept your walls up; even if they were faltering.

You were currently running your fingers around the base of your pint, watching the bubbles rise as you got lost in thought again.

“You know,” Price began, snapping you out of your trance. “I never saw my mates as just soldiers. They were... they are family. Brothers and comrades I needed to take care of.” He admitted with a sombre tone.

You couldn't help but look at Price curiously. Why was he saying this now? What was with that remorseful tone?

“I see the same in you.” He confessed before taking a long swig of ale. He sighed and shook his head. “No... its not the same. But you're not just some solider from the support group. We all need someone.” Price cleared his throat.

“Even if its just a mate to share a pint with.” He added quickly.

And another section of the wall buckles.

“Need someone like me?” You said, cocking an eyebrow. “Must be desperate.”

Price laughed deeply at your reply, shaking his head.

“Desperate or not, I've seen some pretty fucked up shit. If I can find someone... people, to care about and keep me grounded, its worth pursing.”

You shifted in your seat, tilting your head to the side as you eyed Price over.

“Pursing, eh? You make me sound like a military operation or objective to complete.”

Price smiled, “Operation: One pint at a time.” He joked.

Price took a drink from his glass, wetting his beard with droplets and foam. You hated to admit it – even if it was only to yourself – but it was a rather adorable sight from such a rugged, gruff man.

“Interesting strategy.” You were trying to keep your voice relaxed and composed, not wanting to give away your amusement and piqued interest. “Hope you have reinforcements.”

Price lets out a playful scoff, waving an arm dismissively. “I don't need any damn reinforcements. I'm an expert at covert infiltration's.” He asserts.

The night was chilly, the kind that made your breath into wisps of fog in the night air. It chilled you to the bone as you stood outside sucking on a cigarette. Price had declined a cigarette from you when he realized he had left his cigars at home, but stood with you for company.

Price, ever the tenacious man, decided to push the boundaries a little further this night. He moved in closer to you and draped an arm over your shoulder, a gesture that seemed meant to comfort and protect.

You did nothing; admittedly shocked by the sudden token of kindness. Your muscles twitched and tensed, and you still had the urge to run like a bat out of hell, but there was a part of you that simply enjoyed the feeling of his arm around you. You eventually relaxed.

“You know, leaning on someone doesn't make you weak.” Price remarked.

Ignoring what he was trying to say, you smirked and inhaled more nicotine. “Sounds like an excuse to lean on me.” You shake your head mockingly, exhaling smoke.

Price let out an exaggerated sigh. “I'm just saying it takes strength to let people in. Its not healthy for people to bottle it all up.” he continued, ignoring your commentary.

“Taking a lot of strength to hold you up right now.” You enjoyed this banter more than your face let on. You loved it. You hated it. But most importantly... that damn itch was slowly disappearing.

“I'm not used to leaning on anyone.” You confessed. Your eyes stared straight ahead as you spoke. “I don't lean on people.” You dropped the cigarette butt and stomped it out.

Why were you telling him this?

There was something in Price's eyes; an understanding.

He cleared his throat and leaned in a bit.

“Maybe it's time to let people in. Lean on someone.” Somehow you know those weren't the words Price had wanted to say.

His grip on your shoulder tightened ever so slightly.

Despite your best efforts to stop yourself, you still ended up leaning into him.

“Walk you home.” Price said.

Not a question.

You nodded.

“Just don't expect me to invite you in for a coffee.” You replied with a weak smile.

“Understood.” Price nodded.

Price's arm remained wrapped around you as you took the lead and started towards home.

Your heart raced, and your mind was yelling at you to stop. He would leave too, just like the rest did. You were better on your own. You didn't need anyone.

But you wanted someone.

You wanted Price. You wanted him to be different than the rest.

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hatsunemitskislobotomy · 4 months

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“ 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨,

𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘥 ”

┊❛ 𝙞’𝙡𝙡 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙪𝙥 𝙤𝙛

𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙 ❜┊

“ 𝘪’𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘶𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘦𝘥 ”

❀° ┄───╮

its my little meow meow’s birthday 🥹

no hate but like lowkey if gege put me jjk kenny would’ve had to box it out with me before getting his grimy brain fluids on my pookie bear

matter of fact throw gege in the ring too— he still hasn’t payed for his crimes either

╰───┄ °❀

he felt filthy.

the taste wouldn’t leave, no matter how hard he tried.

“curses taste like a rag that was used to clean up shit and vomit.”

mission after mission.

day after day.

was this really how he was supposed to go on? being a sorcerer was a thankless occupation that was at the cost of his sanity.

his morals could only do so much to keep him from coming undone, a fraying thread— slowly unraveling to reveal something sinister.

and the taste— god he couldn’t get rid of the taste even if he wanted to.

satoru had asked him if he lost weight not too long ago, to no one’s surprise— swallowing curses does ruin one’s appetite.

sometimes he felt like he’d skip meals after a mission for weeks at a time, his companion practically begging him to eat.

he couldn’t say that this week would be any different. he just wanted to be home and away from it all, in the arms of his beloved no doubt.

————————————

with a click of the lock, he pushed open the door, dragging his feet.

immediately he was hit with everything and nothing. his senses went blank save for his hearing and sight, he was taken aback and then he remembered.

“hey sugu…” a pretty little head peeked around the corner

“is this your doing…?”

she smiled sheepishly before fully emerging from behind the corner, a steaming mug in hand.

“i’ve been working on it.”

her cursed technique, she was always humble about it. it wasn’t as flashy as his own or satoru’s, she’d argue that it wasn’t nearly as useful like shoko’s.

but at this moment, he couldn’t disagree more.

“i’m going to bring back your smell, yeah?” she murmured softly, passing the mug to him

and slowly his smell did come back, revealing the steaming mug to be the dark roast coffee— perhaps the one satoru brought back for him on a mission abroad a few months back.

the smell was overwhelming considering it was the only thing his brain could process, but not in a bad way. almost as if it was ridding him of the foulness that plagued him a mere few minutes before.

“y/n i—“

“you must be exhausted.” she cut him off with an apologetic smile

“i uh.. started a bath for you, some bath salts are in there to help— should be enough time for you to relax and then i’ll bring your taste back so you can drink your coffee.” she fidgeted, a habit she’d do when she rambled

his tired eyes couldn’t help but soften.

“you didn’t have to.”

“i see how missions take a toll on you suguru…”

“it’s my duty—“

“but at what cost?”

his eyes snapped down to hers. all this time he thought his inner turmoil, his resentment and bitterness that was festering— he thought he kept it well away behind his morality and sense of duty… and she just saw through it so casually.

she could see him.

his throat went dry as he tried to speak, she just offered him a smile.

“it’s the least i can do— now stop second guessing whether you deserve it, the water’s gonna get cold.” she mused before taking the mug back and disappearing further into the small apartment

and as much as he’d like to stand there and process, that bath sounded really nice.

————————————

he stayed in that bath until the water became lukewarm, she really had a knack for aromatherapy. the bath salts left a eucalyptus scent wafting through the bathroom as the water relaxed his aching muscles and the unrest in his mind.

he had dressed into something comfortable before emerging from the bathroom, pajama pants and a plain long sleeve, his hair out of its neat bun instead the raven tresses still dripping a little bit of water down his back from his lazy towel drying.

the rest of the apartment smelled warm and cozy, it usually smelled like this anyways but with his sense of smell heightened he could appreciate it more.

he made his way to the living room where she sat couch, waiting for him with another steaming mug of coffee.

“come, sit down here.” she tapped the spot with her foot

he took the invitation in stride, nestling on the floor with his back against the couch as he sat in between her legs.

she handed him the cup of coffee before trailing her fingers through his hair, gently working out the knots. he took a sip of the coffee, his senses finally allowing him to taste the bitterness of the drink.

he could stay like this forever.

“do you want to talk about your day?” she hummed

“there’s nothing significant about today, just another mission.” he murmured against the rim of the cup, staring into his drink that reflected his eyes

“you can’t say nothing significant happened today!”

he tilted his head up only to be met with a frown.

“what do you mean…? it was just another mission day…”

“can’t believe gojo was right about this.” her frowned deepened

“am i missing something…?”

“your birthday silly!”

he blinked a few times.

his birthday?

he checked the date on his phone, his lips forming a little ‘o’ at the calendar staring back at him.

so it was that time of year again?

“gojo said that you have the tendency to forget but i didn’t think he was serious.” she pouted

“now why are you upset?” he reached up from his position, resting a hand on her cheek

“because it’s your birthday— stupid higher ups made you go on a mission on your birthday!”

well when it was put like that…

“gojo and shoko wanted to throw you a surprise party after your mission but i remembered how overwhelmed you get sometimes especially after dealing with curses… figured a party was the last thing you wanted to come home to.” he couldn’t help but smile at the little detail she picked up

“they still plan to come by later with takeout and cake… but i suggested that you had some time to decompress and recuperate first and they were on board.”

“i don’t deserve you.” he blurted out

“well that’s too bad, i think i’m quite comfortable where i’m at.” she chuckled lightly, tapping the side of his face affectionately

“you’re always taking care of people, who’s gonna take care of you?” she let out a sigh, her gaze shifting downward in a pensive state

“y/n..”

“let me do this for you okay? then you can push me away and be your broody self—”

she felt the words die in her throat as she felt his grip on her arm.

“can i be greedy for a moment?”

“it’s not greedy if it’s for your sake.” she frowned a bit

he took that as a sign when he got up, with his knees to the ground he still managed to hover over her sitting figure on the couch. his rough hands cradling her face like precious treasure.

despite her eyes widening in surprise, there was no hint that she wanted him to back off.

“can i be greedy?” he repeated hoarsely, his breathing stilled after realizing their proximity

“with me, you can be as greedy as you want.” she whispered

and he was more than happy to oblige, feeling and tasting her warmth as he pulled her in, capturing her lips with his in a slow, sweet kiss.

all he could taste was her sweetness that complimented the coffee taste that still lingered on his own lips. a comforting contrast to the nauseating and despicable taste of his reality, a piece of his own little heaven, his sanctuary.

and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“happy birthday suguru.”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk geto #geto suguru #jjk drabbles #happy birthday suguru #happy birthday suguru geto #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x you #suguru angst #suguru fluff #gege when i catch you gege #like ill box it out with you too #put me in a rink with gege and kenny like I’d win fr

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hannahssimblr · 16 days

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Shane arrives in the late afternoon, and suddenly we are five. In the aftermath of the storm, when the tarmac is black and the air is fragrant with petrichor we hike to the touristy side of the beach to have drinks at the Surf Shack. We wipe rain off the picnic benches and sit overlooking the sea. It’s choppy, the sand pockmarked with puddles, but the humid heaviness the last few days spent building has been lifted away, leaving crisp, fresh air in its place. At least for now.

Jen starts demanding everyone’s highlight reel of the past year after only two minutes of small talk, and we talk about how Joe broke his wrist playing frisbee, Jen applied to eleven business schools because she didn’t know what else to put on the forms, and Shane lost his virginity to some girl called Aishling in January, though getting that tidbit is like dragging information from a stone. To distract from our nudges and kissy noises Shane asks me about Michelle, which doesn't help, because then I have to tell them all that we broke up.

It instantly zaps the fun out of things and makes the boys awkward. They grumble vague condolences and start looking around the place like they can pull a less depressing topic of conversation out of the air. I remind myself not to mention her again.

But they don’t have to sit in this particular discomfort for long, because our drinks arrive, carried by Liam, who invites a brand new one by lingering around the table and trying to make conversation. I grit my teeth and remember to be nice.

“Ah look who’s here!” He beams, “the gang are back together!”

“Hi Liam!” Jen’s tone is straining with enthusiasm, “good to see you again, you done your leaving cert?”

“I am indeed! Finished up there last week, t’was some slog, I’ll tell you that. I was just dying to get back out here to the beach and do a bit of surfing. The first group of kids doing the classes are to be down now on the first week of July, and sure then it’s go go go! But look, sure it’s great craic altogether, can’t complain.”

He’s met with blank stares.

“Oh yeah! Sounds fun.” Jen says after a beat, “Well, it’s nice to see-”

“Having any parties or anything like that this summer?” he asks.

“Um, well we’re not sure, but if we do we’ll invite you.” I give her a subtle kick beneath the table, which is a mistake, because she turns her huge, beaming smile on me. Her eyes glint threateningly, “You should ask Jude though, we’re staying at his house, so he gets to decide.”

“Yeah,” I say, “Um, we’ll invite you to whatever we’re doing, we just don’t know yet.” Fine. I want to say to Jen. I’ll invite him, but you can take care of him in the toilet when he’s hammered and sick after one beer.

“That’d be so cool, thanks!” he says, “and I’ve something you can do too, as it happens. My dad is having the first karaoke night of the year down at the local pub next week, you know, just to kind of usher in the beginning of the busy season. You should definitely come along.”

“Karaoke?” Joe echoes, “you want us to sing songs?”

“Well who doesn’t like a good auld sing-song? It’ll be a bit of fun.”

“Probably not,” Joe then turns to Kasper to try and explain to him what is happening in simple English. “Nah, Karaoke, like, singing, and shit” he mutters, “like,” he holds an invisible microphone to his mouth, “la la la, bla bla bla, like, that, like.”

Look, maybe,” I tell Liam, “I don’t think we’re exactly singers here, but we might come to the pub anyway for a few drinks.”

“You might be compelled to belt out a tune or two while you’re there.”

“Stranger things have happened.”

“Alright!” he starts walking back to the Surf Shack, turning one more time to point into our faces, “Think of ye’re songs between now and then, will ya? Just in case you change your mind at some stage!”

Jen looks at me expectantly once he’s gone, and I immediately groan, slumping in my seat under the weight of her expectation. “Fine, I’ll invite him to whatever party, Jen, but I’m not fucking doing karaoke.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2010 #why is Jude so toxic around Liam smh #what did he ever do to you

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imabeautifulbutterfly · 11 days

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Ok I’m here 😂 congrats babes!!!

For the jukebox Roulette…it was hard to pick a song but I’m gonna say My Girl by the Temptations with Fives?

Can’t wait to see what you come up with!! 🩵

Hello love @coffeeandbatboys!

THANK YOU so much for submitting a request, and for My Girl, no less. One of my favourite songs!

I hope I did this song justice and I hope I did Fives justice too.

Love oo!

My Girl

Warnings: Not really any, except for feelings, maybe. I'm not sure. Anyway, if I do miss anything, please let me know.

Main Master List | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette | AO3 Link

Fives didn’t understand it the first time it happened. He’d just joined the 501st, he stood in the hangar after receiving the medal ceremony, when the whole world went quiet and all he could hear was the sound of his own heartbeat.

Boom-boom-boom

It had a rhythm of its own, a song that called out to him in the quiet. He closed his eyes and shook his head and just like that, the world came to the fore again. He’d been concerned he had picked something up on the Rishi outpost, when he went to Kix for a physical everything came back clean.

The second time it happened, was when he entered the mess hall, his breathing caught in his throat, and his eyes focused on you as you laughed at another trooper’s jokes.

Boom-boom-boom

He shook his head again, and the world came back. Echo tapped his shoulder, making sure he was alright, Fives didn’t know how to respond. Of course, he was alright. At least he hoped he was.

The third time it happened was when you actually directed your smile towards him. The whole world shut out except for that familiar rhythm and your voice. It was a voice that made his whole world brighter, it pushed away his grief, his worries. It was a voice that filled his whole world with sweetness, as long as he heard your voice everything else was fine.

“Fives!” You called to me, as he just stared at you, you waved your hand in front of his face. “Hey! You okay?”

Fives shook himself out of his thoughts, “Yeah, yeah” he closed his eyes and shook his head, “Sorry, I think I got too used to being on the Rishi moon. It’s taking me some time to get acclimatized to the ship’s gravity.”

You nodded, “I understand, I had a hard time at first when I had to be on a ship full time. Anyway, you came to ask me about making some adjustments to your blaster?”

“Yeah. I was wondering if we could make the grip thinner by a few micrometers.”

“Hmmm, let me see.” You took his blaster, humming as you worked.

Fives became lost in your humming, it was soothing, and full of sweetness. How was that possible? How could it be that just your smile, your voice, even your humming made his world seem perfect?

“What are you humming?”

“Hmmm?” You glanced up to him as you were making notes on your datapad.

“What’re you humming?”

“Oh, it’s a song my dad used to sing all the time. I don’t why but lately I can’t get the song out of my head.”

“Sounds like a nice song.”

“It is. It’s about a guy who has this girl, that makes everything better. Even if it’s cloudy, there’s sun, because she’s there. When it’s cold, he doesn’t feel it because he has her.” You smirked at how ridiculous the lyrics really were, “He goes on to compare how bees are jealous of him because he has so much honey, or how the birds’ song is nothing compared to the song he sings. It’s all because of his girl. It’s sweet, but a little ridiculous.”

You answered your eyes focused on the blaster, as you kept making notes, “Well, from what I can see, I think it’s doable to slim down the grip, but the weight will be off, because it’ll be top heavy, so I’ll have to trim down the barrel as well, to balance out the weight.”

“Why is it ridiculous?”

“Huh?” You looked back into those warm brown eyes that every clone trooper seemed to have, but his were different. His eyes held a sense of responsibility, a sense of mischievous, but very kind eyes.

“Why is it ridiculous? I mean isn’t it possible that someone’s world gets turned on its head because of someone else?”

You don’t know why but you felt your heart flutter at his statement, “You saying you’ve had your world turn on its head because of someone?”

“What if it did?”

“Then you’re very lucky, not everyone can experience that.”

He moved closer leaning against the work bench as he kept his eyes on you, “Maybe you just need to listen to your own heartbeat.”

In that moment, the world went quiet for the both of you, all that could be heard were your two hearts beating as one.

Boom-boom-boom

Suddenly your world seemed brighter with him there.

Main Master List | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette | AO3 Link

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal @crosshair-is-the-superior-clone @totallyunidentified @griffedeloup @leotatombs @leotawrites

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gunilslaugh · 5 months

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haii can i request a jooyeon fic(?)/hc(?) with a s/o who has the same personality as him? 🫶

like how would both of them annoy the other members and be silly and such 😆

thanks 🫶🫶

Here you go! I had fun with this :)

Lee Jooyeon

Summary: How Jooyeon is with a s/o who has the same kind of personality as him. (idol au)

WC:~1k

Warning:none

photo not mine credits to owner.

Due to having the same personality you and Jooyeon clicked right when you met. This instant clicking started off a nice friendship between the two of you. Both of you talked often, frequently sending each other funny videos and memes. Even if you’re not the biggest gamer, Jooyeon conveniences you to game with him from time to time. Whenever you guys hangout it gets a little chaotic. Whether you are messing with each other or Jooyeon’s poor members. However right now the members don’t suffer too badly because of the leverage they have over Jooyeon: his crush on you.

“Jooyeon if you do that I will tell y/n about your crush on them,” Seunngmin threatened him.

“You can’t do that!” Jooyeon’s heartbeat rises in a panic.

“Want to find out?” Seungmin taunts. Jooyeon immediately backs down. Although a part of him thinks that maybe he should do it anyway because he is too chicken to confess to you. He quickly fell for you after you both met. It was hard for him not too when you clicked so well. It was easy for him to be around it. He felt like he could be one hundred percent himself. He didn’t have to worry about anything when he was with you. Plus he always had a great time whenever he was with you. Even if you guys weren’t doing anything in particular. Simply lounging around in comfy clothes with a show playing. Sometimes being background noise as you two chatted away or sometimes being the only sound in the room as you both fell engrossed in it. Or maybe you were engrossed in the show and Jooyeon was engrossed in you. With how your head somehow found its way onto his lap. His fingers tentatively play with your strands. He's a bit afraid that playing with your hair is too much for people who are just friends, but then again you’re the one who put your head in his lap.

The next time you and Jooyeon are hanging out together Jooyeon is set on confessing to you. He’s been thinking about it about the whole time you’ve been hanging out. This time your head has found its way onto his shoulder as you scroll on your phone. Jooyeon is mentally yelling at himself to just say it.

“Jooyeon.” You picked your head up from his shoulder. It makes Jooyeon kinda sad, missing the weight of you against him.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Are you ok? You seem kind of out of it,” you say.

“Oh yeah, sorry I’m good i-” Screw it just say it! “I like you.” He did it, he confessed.

“Huh? You?” You’re very taken aback by his sudden confession.

“I like you,” he declared more confidently. Now you burst out into a smile, unable to contain your happiness.

“I like you too,” you matched his confident tone.

“Oh thank God because I was actually kinda scared,” he admitted with a chuckle. From then on you two became practically inseparable and your menacing acts increased by tenfold. Jooyeon’s members could do nothing but suffer and maybe give you two a scolding now that they had lost their leverage.

Yours and Jooyeon’s relationship was easy, natural. The two of you radiate off of each other so well. It's like you guys were meant to be. Your matching personalities makes it super simple for you guys to plan dates. The two of you end up having a lot of indoor dates. Typically a meal accompanied by some other activity. One of your favorites is watching a show that is popular at the moment then debating if it is worth the hype or not. Jooyeon actually likes playing his guitar for you. He would secretly learn some of your favorite songs and then casually play them in front of you. He wouldn’t admit that he learned it for you though.

“I didn’t learn it for you, it's just a coincidence. This song happens to have chords that I’m trying to master,” he denies.

“Ok, sure that’s why.” You playfully roll your eyes. However as he carefully strums your favorite song as you're falling asleep and presses a kiss onto your forehead when he finishes the song, you know for sure that learned it just for you.

Both of you would make fun of the other being clingy when in fact both of you are clingy towards one another.

“You’re so clingy,” he teases you when you wrap him up in a back hug.

“Ok fine then.” You go to let him go, but you can’t because he’s holding your arms in place.

“You’re so clingy,” you teased him back.

“Ok fine then.” Jooyeon moves, but only to turn around and pull you back towards him in a front facing hug.

“You’re both clingy,” Jiseok states, shaking his head as walks into the room to grab his charger.

“You’re single,” you and Jooyeon said in unison. Jiseok scoffs, quickly grabbing his charger and leaving the room. Not before playfully sticking his tongue out at you both though. To which you and Jooyeon do the same back at Jiseok. Once he’s gone, you and Jooyeon go back to sticking to one another.

Another part of your twos’ relationship is going out on impulsive late night adventures.

“Y/n, let’s go get ice cream,” Jooyeon excitedly shakes your hand.

“Jooyeon it’s one AM and fifty degrees outside,” you say. Jooyeon only stares at you. “Let’s go,” you smile.

“Yes!” Jooyeon chimes happily. The two of you venture out into the cold to retrieve your even colder late night snack.

When the two of you are out walking exploring the streets either of you can’t help but annoyingly bump your weight into the other's side causing them to stumble a bit. Sometimes you’ll grab the other’s hand only to let it go the next second. However once you see the other person’s pout your hand is right back in theirs. Now your interlocked hands swing back and forth a little dramatically between your bodies. You and Jooyeon couldn’t be happier together.

#xdinary heroes #xdh #xdh imagines #xdh x reader #xdinary heroes imagines #xdinary heroes x reader #xh jooyeon #jooyeon fluff #jooyeon x reader #lee jooyeon x reader #lee jooyeon #jooyeon #xdinary heroes fluff

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1ovede1uxe · 3 months

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09. just something to think about┊ ┊⋆ beyond the stars

series synopsis - you've been sent to join the joestar crew on their mission to defeat dio by... dio? y/n is an undercover stand user who joins the sdc to report back to dio their findings and notes about their stands, up until a few moral dilemmas get in the way of your original mission.

ch. synopsis - hold onto your socks bc theres some accusations being thrown around and nothing but airpods separating the romance blossoming, + light fluff

italicized text is your thoughts!

Five arduous hours later, your hand crafted dune buggy of a car was up and running. You only prayed that your father's extensive knowledge on cars he attempted to pass on to you was somewhat accurate.

Everyone toppled into the car, up until you yelled out "HOLD IT!" Everyone's heads snapped toward you, a look of concern decorated the men's faces.

"I want shotgun." Everyone let out a sigh of simultaneous relief and annoyance. "What? I made the damn car let me sit up front in it."

"Oh good grief. "

"You're gonna give this old man a heart attack!"

Polnareff got out of the shotgun and squeezed himself into the trunk, the only remaining space. For the first time in a while, an awkward silence settled in the back of the car, each occupant lost in their own thoughts and/or devices.

The hum of the engine seemed louder than usual, filling the void left by the absence of conversation, until Avdol broke the silence.

"So (y/n), tell me about your stand in full. I'm truly curious, especially since it's not aligned with the tarot."

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, caught off guard by the sudden inquiry. "Uh, sure," you began, trying to gather your thoughts. "I named it after a song I liked. As for its power..."

As you delved into the description of your stand's abilities, Avdol listened intently, nodding along at certain points as he absorbed the information.

"So forgive me for asking, but how did you and Kakyoin end up together?" Avdol's question came out of left field, causing you to nearly choke on your own spit. You whipped your head around to gauge Kakyoin's reaction in the back, only to find him seemingly unfazed. "HA!" Polnareff chuckled from the trunk, enjoying the unexpected turn of events. Both Jotaro and Kakyoin had noise-canceling earbuds for car rides, much to your relief as you mentally thanked whatever divine force prevented Kakyoin from hearing the question.

"Oh, Mr. Avdol, Kakyoin and I aren't a couple," you clarified, trying to mask the discomfort in your voice.

I mean I wouldn't really mind. Even solidification of his feelings for me would be nice.

Avdol seemed taken aback, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Forgive me, I had just assumed over his gaze at you as he complimented Midler earlier on, as well as spending time together on the island."

You chuckled awkwardly, feeling the weight of the misunderstanding hanging in the air. "Yeah, I guess we do spend a bit of time together," you admitted, taking a sip of water to fill the uncomfortable silence that followed.

"I guess its just something to think about."

Mr. Joestar finally had caught up with the conversation after another minute or so. "Wait you and Kakyoin aren't a couple?!" You sighed and facepalmed as Polnareff continued to giggle to himself. You had returned to your devices until you reached your destination

previous chapter // next chapter // masterlist

Mariah is on private so the crusaders don’t see her tweets 🤞🏻 also aw kakyoins finally figuring out his feelings :3

Sorry for the shorter chapter! Tried to make this one a little more social media based, I'm honestly struggling to write out Iggy the Fool and Geb's N'doul. Hopefully it'll be out soon! I have a very busy month, so I wanted to get this chapter out a little earlier than usual in the month. I'm also beginning to edit some of the earlier chapters. As always, constructive criticism is always appreciated. taglist is open! you can request through message or askbox!

Thank you to everyone on my taglist and all of you who interact, your support means the world <3

taglist: @kerto-p, @pancakesyrupthief, @kakyoinslastcherry, @marvelmayo

#jjba #Kakyoin x reader #beyond the stars #jojo no kimyō na bōken #kakyoin noriaki x reader #jojos bizarre adventure #joseph joestar #jotaro kujo #jjba headcanons #noriaki kakyoin #stardust crusaders #self insert #jjba smau #modern au #Polnareff #muhammad avdol

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helix-enterprises117 · 2 months

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Halo Reloaded: Seeing Triple III

The Warthog's engine growled under Silver's deft control, its tires kicking up clouds of dust as it navigated the desolate landscape. The inside of the vehicle was thick with the tension of its three very similar, yet distinctly different occupants. Silver, with a driving style that could only be described as 'enthusiastically reckless', seemed to find a sort of grim amusement in the occasional jolt that threatened to unseat them. Chief, for his part, sat with the stoicism of a boulder, his gaze fixed on some distant point, lost in thoughts that likely weighed as heavily as his armor.

Ranger, unable to stand the silence any longer, swiveled his turret around, a mischievous glint in his one good eye. "Hey, fellas," he started, voice dripping with a blend of curiosity and the kind of cheerfulness that only comes from blissful ignorance of true despair. "How long have you been playing the galaxy's most reluctant heroes? Feels like we've got enough grimdark backstories to start our own band."

Chief let out a sigh, the sound somehow carrying all the weight of his years. "Feels like since the dawn of time. It's been a never-ending parade of enemies. Insurrectionists, Covenant, Flood, Prometheans... And now these Banished chumps. Honestly, it's like the universe has a personal vendetta against my downtime."

"Banished? No such thing where I came from. Back in my timeline, it was more about Spartans going rogue and interservice, political in-fighting." Silver waved a hand dismissively, as if brushing away the memories along with the dust that had settled on the dashboard.

"You boys make my timeline sound like a walk in the park. No Banished, just a bunch of Forerunner tech that doesn't play nice," Ranger chimed in, trying to lighten the mood. He paused, his expression turning thoughtful under his helmet. "Makes me wonder what I'm missing out on. Or not."

The topic of age came up as naturally as anything else could in a conversation held at gunpoint by existential dread. "So, how old are we talking here? I'm a sprightly 2530 baby, myself," Ranger offered, injecting a note of pride into his voice.

"2511," Chief responded, his voice as flat and unexciting as a history lecture.

"Same." Silver chuffed, glancing over at Chief with a look that could almost be considered camaraderie if one squinted.

Ranger nodded, a smirk playing on his lips, "Makes me the kid, huh? Guess that explains the youthful charm." He laughed, a sound that bounced around the Warthog's interior.

"Y'know, I got a girl back home. Spartan Linda. Tied the knot and everything. You guys would love her; she's a real charmer, once you get past the sniper rifle."

Chief's reaction was almost comical, had anyone been in the mood for comedy. A slight twitch, like he'd been zapped by a low-voltage current, betrayed his surprise. "Linda..." he echoed, the name carrying a weight that seemed to anchor him to the spot. The moment stretched, filled with unspoken thoughts and feelings, a saga of 'what-ifs' and 'if-onlys'.

"Got a thing for your Linda, huh?" Ranger nudged, his tone playful yet edged with understanding. "Can't say I blame you. If she's anything like my Linda, she's one in a trillion."

The conversation meandered from there, shifting to less emotionally charged topics... that's a lie, it got more emotional. Ranger glanced back at his companions, a new thread of curiosity weaving through his thoughts.

"You know, I've been thinking... It's weird how everyone in your world can just... interact with Forerunner tech. In my dimension, it's a no-go unless you've got this rare Forerunner genome thing going on. Which, luckily, I do." He tapped the side of his helmet, as if to punctuate his point.

Silver, who had been navigating a particularly treacherous patch of terrain, perked up at this. "Yeah? That's a thing for me too." He noted with a half-smirk, then, as if a thought struck him, he directed a queston to the other Johns. "You ever hear of someone named Makee in your world?"

Both Chief and Ranger shook their heads, their interest piqued. Chief’s voice was the first to break the ensuing silence. "Makee? That's not a name that's come up. Who is she?"

In the rearview mirror, Silver's reflection showed a man wrestling with how to frame his next words. "She was... unique. A human, but the only one who joined the Covenant, believed in their cause. She could interpret the words of the Forerunners, activate and use their tech... She's like me, but she used her abilities for them."

The weight of the story hung in the air, heavier than the gravity on Onyx. Ranger, always one to push forward, nudged the topic. "So, what happened to her?"

Silver's grip on the steering wheel tightened, the muscles in his jaw working as he chose his words carefully. "One of my Spartans killed her," he said, a simple statement that carried layers of unsaid emotion.

The silence that followed was telling, filled with a mix of curiosity and respect for the delicate subject. It was Ranger who broke it, his tone treading the line between sensitive and inquisitive. "You sound... kinda fond of her?"

There was a pause, long enough to be uncomfortable, before Silver finally let out a breathy chuckle, laden with a cocktail of emotions. "Yeah, well, she was under my custody, and... we ended up falling for each other. And, uh, she—We..." He stumbled over the words, a rarity for someone usually so sure of himself.

Chief, the ever-stoic warrior, found himself at a loss, his brain trying to reboot like an old, overworked computer. "You were... involved with a POW?"

Ranger’s reaction was a mixture of shock and an almost irrepressible urge to laugh, not out of mockery, but sheer disbelief at the complexity of Silver's situation. "And let me guess, there were... consequences to this?"

Silver sighed, a sound that was half resignation, half defiance. "If by 'consequences,' you mean a baby, then yeah. I'm raising our child. Her name's Angel."

The revelation hit like a gravity hammer. Chief looked as if he’d been physically struck, the concept so foreign and shocking to his disciplined mind that it nearly sent him into a state of system failure. Ranger, on the other hand, clamped a hand over his mouth, his shoulders shaking with the effort to contain his laughter, not at the situation itself, but at the sheer absurdity of life and how it seemed to throw curveballs at the most unexpected of times.

Silver glanced at both of his counterparts through the mirror, a sheepish yet defiant look in his eyes. "Yeah, I know. It's a mess. But she's the best thing that's come out of all this chaos. Angel, I mean."

The Warthog trundled on, the silence now filled with a new understanding, a recognition of the complexities and the unanticipated paths their lives had taken.

Chief, still processing, finally nodded, a gesture of acknowledgment if not full comprehension. Ranger, finding his composure, offered a supportive clap on Silver's shoulder, his laughter subsiding into a knowing smirk.

"Life, huh?" Ranger mused, the landscape around them unforgiving and barren, yet somehow less desolate with the sharing of their intertwined tales. "Doesn't get much crazier than this."

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bitterkarella · 11 months

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Midnight Pals: A Whale of a Tale

Darren Aronofsky: Submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this the tale of the whale Stephen King: wow! sounds like a whale of a - Aronofsky: do not patronize me

Aronofsky: i am no peddler of cheap thrills Aronofsky: no two-bit carnival hack frightening children with spooks and spectres Aronofsky: i am an artist laying bare the true horror of human existence Aronofsky: like what if a guy ate 2 pizzas

Aronofsky: this is the story of a guy who's so fat Aronofsky: that when you see him, all you feel is disgust Aronofsky: but not in a trashy way Aronofsky: But it’s all shot by Herb Ritz so it’s really beautiful and you feel sorry for him

Aronofsky: ok picture this Aronofsky: this guy is so fat, he doesn't eat like a human Aronofsky: he eats like a monster Aronofsky: like a cookie monster! Aronofsky: it really makes you think

Aronofsky: just imagine Aronofsky: he's making anchovy & nutella sandwiches Aronofsky: limburger & siracha cake Aronofsky: you know, just eating like a cartoon character Aronofsky: but we'll play the jaws theme while it happens so you know its scary

Stephen King: my god, this is the most terrifying story I've ever heard! Aronofsky: just wait Aronofsky: imagine we turn up the constant snorting & belching that a fat person does so you don't miss a SECOND King: my god!! King: and they call ME the master of the macabre!

Aronofsky: ok so the fat guy is a professor at a college Aronofsky: but he's so fat that he has to zoom his lectures Aronofsky: i've been working on this script for 10 years but its really lucky that covid happened or this detail wouldn't really make sense

Aronofsky: but when he's in the depths of a pizza binge, he emails his students all "fuck essays!! write me something honest!!" Aronofsky: like some real dead poets society shit Aronofsky: but turns out his students are nerds who love writing essays, so they get him fired instead

Aronofsky: in his last lecture, the fat guy is all "some of you wrote essays of heartbreaking honesty" Aronofsky: and then he reads those essays to the whole class Aronofsky: which would be kind of fucked up Aronofsky: but luckily they didn't actually say anything interesting

Aronofsky: they all wrote "my parents are annoying" Aronofsky: and "sometimes i feel sad" Aronofsky: but the fat guy is so moved that he turns on his zoom camera Aronofsky: to reveal the awful truth of his fatness!! Stephen King: this story is getting way too scary for me

Aronofsky: the kids are shocked! Aronofsky: they thought he kept his camera turned off because he was a chiseled adonis Aronofsky: but now they know the awful truth that their professor is fat! Aronofsky: then the fat guy smashes his computer Aronofsky: in a fit of fat rage

Stephen King: wow! this story is terrifying! it just gives me chills! King: maybe we can have a nice happy story to calm us all down next King: hey meg why don't you tell us that nice story about the pill? Meg Elison:

Elison: what King: yeah you know that happy story about the pill that lets you lost weight instantly? Elison: that's not a happy story King: what? yeah, it is! King: they lose weight! King: now that's what i call hopepunk! Elison: OH Elison: MY Elison: GOD

#midnight pals #the midnight society #midnight society #stephen king #darren aronofsky #meg elison

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longnightswriting · 1 year

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promise me you’ll stay pt2 | ellie x reader

summary: after a long, stressful night, ellie and an ex love spend the morning in bed reconciling and making up for lost time

content warning: fluff, crude language, smut, oral(giving and receiving), fingering, dirty talk, lack of aftercare, dom ellie, f!reader

a/n: decided to make a pt2 and may continue on with it. i’m open to suggestions if you have any elliexreader ideas you’re wanting to see written

word count: 3.3k

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My eyes blinked open slowly, but just barely— not enough to be awake, but enough to be aware. I snuggled deeper into Ellie’s embrace, my fingertips slowly finding their way up her body until reaching her chest where my palm flattened against her heart, waiting for its rhythm. A small, peaceful smile grew upon my face at the familiarity— finally having my comfort back within reach.

Ellie began to stir at my touch, grumbles and sharp breaths coming from her lips as she turned her body towards me. I became enveloped in her arms as I nuzzled even deeper into her chest. In this moment, I don’t think I could ask for anything more. But there was always something in the back of my mind, there always would be, something that was always telling me to brace for the inevitable.

“I think I almost forgot how nice this was.” She spoke, her voice raspy and low.

My lips trailed gently against the fabric that covered her chest, inhaling deeply between each kiss. Looking up, our eyes met and we exchanged bashful grins. Ellie was the first person I ever truly dated— yeah, there were some flings here and there, but nothing like this— nothing that even neared this level. I remember meeting Ellie for the first time, but not as vividly as I’d like, probably because I turned into an absolute puddle of nerves. I’m still embarrassed by it.

“You know what I didn’t forget, though?” She questioned, peaking my interest as she looked down at me, “How much I loved seeing you between my legs.”

My mouth fell agape, slightly pushing away from her, “Is that the joke you were saving from last night?”

She shrugged, stifling a laugh as I rolled over onto her, careful of the still fresh wounds that painted her body.

“I was-“ I paused, truly unable to pick my jaw up off the floor, “Ellie!”

“What— it’s been awhile!” She playfully fought back as I hid my face in her chest, embarrassment over taking me.

Ellie always had a way of making me like this— bashful over comments, usually sexual. I never knew if it was because being with her was my first sexual relationship, or just because any comment she made to me like that made me feel like a giddy little girl whose crush just noticed them.

“Hey, I’m kidding.” She hummed, her fingertips slowly running the length of my back— up and down, “I was really just glad that I was with you.” She spoke honestly as I lifted my head, staring up at her, “I knew you’d take care of me.”

I rolled my eyes, “It’s not like you gave me much of a choice, Els.”

“You could’ve turned me away-“

I shook my head, cutting her off, “I wouldn’t.”But then I understood what she was getting at.

She gave me a tight smile, readjusting herself under my weight before letting out a long sigh.

“I took an extra run— a side thing that Maria and Tommy didn’t know about, but the guy I was supposed to go with backed out last minute-“

“Who?” I stopped her, eyebrows furrowing.

“Just some shithead kid who’s only ever worked patrol, but I went anyway, I know I shouldn’t have, it’s just…” she shifted again, her eyes avoiding mine, “It’s been different recently.”

I sighed, my eyes leaving hers as I got lost in my own mind. I knew what she meant, and I knew she wasn’t trying to place blame, but I couldn’t help but feel it. Even if only partly. Before all of this, Ellie and I had been joined at the hip for so long that when we did finally split from each other, it threw off our lives drastically. We didn’t know what to do without the other— without having any knowledge of what the other was doing or how they were. Going from being connected to someone for so long to having zero contact with them, seemingly overnight was… different.

She shrugged, “I ran into some assholes and they got the jump on me.”

I didn’t have anything to say to her, or at least I couldn’t come up with anything that wasn’t emotion driven. I hated her being outside the walls, which was part of the main argument that separated us, and this was just cementing how I felt about it. But I’d put up with fight after fight and years of the silent treatment if it meant I could be sure that she was always safe, I knew it wasn’t realistic though.

My fingertips played under the neckline of her shirt, running along her collarbone, “How are we going to make this work?”

“We could just fight like an old married couple the rest of our lives.” She hummed, pushing loose strands of hair behind my ears, “Threaten to kill each other every couple weeks followed by the best damn hate sex anyone could dream of.”

I blushed at her offer, a grin pulling at my lips before slowly diminishing, “Can we talk about going outside the walls?” I asked, my eyes finally shifting to hers, “Without fighting— like just neutral?”

“Neutral?” She mocked, furrowing her brows.

“You know what I mean.” I rolled my eyes, “I just want to talk about things without it ending in one of us storming off.”

Ellie agreed, only nodding, but I could tell she was weary.

“Ellie, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” I spoke honestly, fingers reaching up to play with the necklace I had gotten her so long ago, something it seems that she had never taken off, “I can’t do that if you’re dead.”

“I can handle assholes-“

“And you did… this time.” I stopped her, “What about next time? Or the time after that?”

Ellie was hard to reason with— she was so hardheaded and stubborn, but that was one of the things that first attracted me to her. It was hard to believe now that it was the catalyst in tearing us apart. It wasn’t always like this though, when we first met, but as time went on we seemed to force ourselves further apart in fear of losing the other. From sneaking outside the walls together, to shorter and shorter trips, to leaving without me with the only excuse being that she feared something would happen that she wasn’t able to stop. But when that was my excuse for not wanting her outside the walls, it fell on deaf ears.

I pushed myself up, carefully straddling her lap as she groaned under my weight, “I just…” I breathed, placing her hands onto my waist as she instinctively drug them up and down my thighs, “I don’t know what I would do with myself if I lost you.”

And I was being honest, I don’t know what I’d do without Ellie. Being away from her, not only physically but emotionally, had taken its toll on both of us it seemed.

“It’s already been so hard not having you here every night— holding me… touching me.” I hummed, “It’s not the same without you.”

“What?” She breathed, already in a trance as her fingertips lightly dug into my skin, “You been having fun without me?”

“Only when I couldn’t get you off of my mind.” My answer made her smirk, fueling an ego that was already on fire. “Ellie-“ I whimpered under her touch, her thumb running over the thin fabric covering my lower half. Her name hitched in my throat, coming out needier than I’d like to admit, and I could tell she was getting off on it.

Running her bottom lip between her teeth, I watched as her light eyes began to darken, filling with lust. But as soon as it started, she stopped herself, and her touch disappeared from my skin. My mouth fell agape slightly, feeling abandoned and needy as I watched her roughly rub at her eyes, grumbling to herself.

“Els?” My voice barely let out, watching her intently with my heart in my throat.

“Hold on.” She mumbled, slowly pushing herself up off the mattress through sharp breaths and swears, “This shit is so embarrassing.”

My eyes frantically searched her face for answers, fearing I had done something wrong— that I had misread all the signs.

But I hadn’t.

Ellie’s lips found mine and together they worked in unison while I melted within her grasp.

“Can’t even fuck you how I want.” She huffed, her voice throaty, “If I flip you over and tear out my stitches, I know you’ll make me pay for it.”

“Guess that just means I get to fuck you how I want.” I breathed between kisses, a smirk pulling on her lips as she tilted her head back, giving me perfect access to her neck.

I trailed kisses down her throat to her collar bone before we both fought over the fabric covering our torsos, practically tearing the clothing off between laughter stifled with more kisses.

My eyes rolled back, a soft moan leaving my lips as Ellie returned the treatment, leaving marks along my neck and chest. Her finger tips dug into my skin, eyes hungry as she leaned back admiring the art she had left. Carefully, I removed myself from her lap, leaving kisses on any exposed skin I was given the chance to show my love to, because it had been so long since I could.

“Fuck.” She breathed, repositioning herself as we both worked together carefully slipping the shorts over her bandaged stitching. I paused momentarily, seeing the dark bruising that now painted her thigh, like blood from the night before.

“I’m ok.” She reassured, eyes getting lost within each others as her hands cupped either side of my face, “I am.”

I knew it was a lie, but there was no use fighting her— not right now. I had different things on my mind anyway. I continued to trail kisses down her body, over her toned stomach and thighs. I craved her so desperately that I wasted no times attaching my lips to her pussy, quickly earning her satisfaction.

“Oh fuck, that’s my good girl.” She muttered, her head falling back as her hand became entangled within my hair, “God, I missed you.”

Getting lost within Ellie was so easy and something I craved constantly, almost like an addict. The time we spent apart and the times we spent not talking? I have never experienced an actual withdrawal, but I would imagine that’s about as close as I’ll ever come to it.

I couldn’t stifle the giggle that escaped my lips at Ellie’s satisfied, throaty moans. I loved making her feel good but seeing her become such a vulnerable mess was so enjoyable to watch.

Her grip lightly tightened, pulling my head back, “What’s so funny, huh?”

“I just love seeing you whine with my tongue in your pussy.” I grinned, seeing her drunk with pleasure.

She bit at the inside of her lip, fighting a smirk, “I will get you back for that.”

I rushed back to her pussy, going in for seconds and lapping up juices like it was the answer to all of my problems. And in this moment, it really felt like it. I don’t think I can live without Ellie, and being with her right now was really cementing that. Through the fights, the staying up late because she hadn’t shown back up at the gates on time, and the fear of what our future would hold— I’d do it everyday for the rest of my life if it meant I got to spend it with her.

Her grip left my hair as she propped herself up on her elbows, her breathing getting faster, pausing only for the swears that left her lips.

I pulled away slightly, my fingers taking place of my tongue on her clit, taking pride in my work as I watched Ellie— her jaw slack and eyebrows lightly furrowed.

“Are you gonna cum on my tongue for me?” I teased, my mouth returning to its rightful place.

Her head tipped back, fighting a smirk, “I’m so gonna get you back.”

But within seconds she was doing just what I asked of her, and the sounds that filled the room was music to my ears.

“Ok— ok.” She breathed, squirming under my touch, desperately grabbing at my face to pull me up, “Shit.”

“What?” I hummed softly, kissing up her chest, “You aren’t going to let me go back for more?”

“I’ve lost too much blood to keep cumming like that.” She joked, our lips meeting again, “I think you’d kill me.”

“And whose fault is that?” I cocked my head at her, biting lightly at my still wet lips.

She playfully rolled her eyes, annoyed and impatient, “Just get on my face.”

It had been too long— something I now knew I couldn’t let happen again, but eagerly, I obeyed her demand. Truthfully, I’d do anything she asked of me, and I think that was blaringly apparent just by looking at the events of the last 12 hours.

I quickly slipped out of the small bit of fabric that was still on my body but before I could even get situated, her arms wrapped around my thighs, holding me in place as I was instantly filled with mind numbing pleasure.

“Els- I, Ellie-“ I barely got out, easily becoming overstimulated and trying to pull away, “Please-“ My weak voice continued, but I couldn’t get a coherent sentence out with the pleasure that was drenching my body.

It felt so good— so good that I wanted to pull away, fighting against her grip, but I knew the second I lost that contact, I’d crave it again.

She made it hard to sit still— her tongue working circles into sensitive, needy flesh. Ellie ate pussy like her life depended on it— like she had something to prove.

My hips bucked against her tongue, desperately gripping at the old wooden headboard that had seen numerous scenes just like this one.

My jaw fell slack as blissful moans tumbled from my lips, Ellie’s fingertips gripping my thighs hard enough to leave bruises. And it wasn’t long before my high was pulsing through my body and leaving me an absolute mess.

I collapsed off of her as she released her grip on my thighs, falling to the side and allowing the residual jolts of electricity to dissipate from my body. My eyes fluttered closed through long, shaky breathes that preceded euphoric giggles.

I was in such a blissful state, I hadn’t even noticed Ellie’s struggle to reposition herself until she was already in between my legs once again. I gasped at the contact, instantly trying to pull away while whimpers flooded my vocabulary.

“What was that?” She teased, her fingers replacing her tongue before she slowly slipped them in, “Something about… whining with your tongue in my pussy?”

A moan left my lips as her fingers curled, knowing exactly how to work my body.

I reached down, gripping her wrist in an attempt to halt the actions that were sending my brain and body over the edge.

“Hey.” She corrected, her stern voice causing me to freeze as our eyes locked, “You don’t talk to me like that, understand?”

My mouth fell agape ever so slightly, feeling caught off guard and vulnerable, “I just miss you-“

“Understand?” She repeated, never breaking eye contact as she slowly lowered herself once again, her lips wrapping around my sensitive clit.

I took a sharp breath in, my head falling back, “Yes, I- I understand, yes-“

The overstimulation quickly turned to pleasure once again and I was fully in heaven with Ellie between my legs. But she loved to tease, her lips trailing kisses along my thighs and driving me insane.

“So, you wanna talk about going outside the walls?” She hummed, her fingers pumping delectably slowly.

“I- Ellie…” I rolled my eyes, letting out a small laugh at her bringing up the subject, my voice breathy and desperate.

“What, baby?” She teased, “What do you want? Come on now.”

I propped myself up, reaching for Ellie’s wrist again in an attempt to allow myself to think straight, but she immediately pushed it aside, leaving me a desperate whimpering mess.

“Nuh-uh, use your words.”

“Ellie, please, I-“ I begged, my mind running blank as I watched her fingers working masterfully, “I need you h-here, please-“ I struggled to get out, our eyes meeting, “I wanna be with you.”

A smirk grew on Ellie’s face, one of satisfaction, “Good girl.” She hummed, her mouth returning to my pussy as a reward and causing me to squirm under her touch.

Ellie had me wrapped around her finger, quite literally in the moment, but just in general. And no matter how much I wanted to deny it in times of stress, I’d do anything she told me to and she knew that.

“Ellie…” I whined, prodding her for an answer

She left kisses covering my thighs, her eyes gazing up at me, “What? You want me to take you out with me?”

I nodded eagerly, eyes flickering between hers and her fingers as they worked over my sensitive clit.

I could see her really begin to think about it, for real this time, her tongue dragging her bottom lip between her teeth. She wasn’t here in the moment anymore, she was elsewhere in her mind.

“Yeah, ok.” She eventually nodded, but there was hesitance to it, and I could tell it’d be something we’d have to talk about in detail later. Now wasn’t the time.

Again my head fell back in ecstasy as she returned, but something was different now— she still wasn’t here. Instead she was overthinking things while her body was on autopilot.

“Oh my god- fuck, Ellie!” I swore, her movements speeding up and bringing me to my climax once again.

She left a final quick kiss on the inside of my knee, before her touch disappeared.

Breathless, I stared up at the ceiling as my head spun, only being pulled out of my high by Ellie’s painful hisses.

Pushing myself up, I watched as she attempted to get herself out of bed, quiet grumbles and swears leaving her lips.

Her absence— the lack of touch, it felt isolating. But I know she didn’t mean it.

“Ellie?” I cooed, crawling up behind her as she sighed at my touch.

I kissed at her neck, her cheek, her forehead, before moving loose hairs behind her ear, “We don’t have to worry about it right now.” I spoke softly, desperate to not lose her again.

Our foreheads touched, a quiet moment between the two of us after just having the room filled with the most heavenly of sounds.

“I love you— you know that, right?” She asked, our eyes meeting.

I nodded, studying her face, every freckle and scar that told a story.

And she stared back. The two of us in completely and total awe at the beings before us— as if our hearts had manifested all of our desires into beautiful souls, perfect for one another.

“God, I’d really do anything for you, huh?”

“Anything but keep yourself out of harms way, apparently.” I teased, kissing at her face once again, “Come shower with me.” My offer coming off as more of a demand, “I’ll clean up your stitches, wash your hair…” I trailed off, lovingly playing with the loose pieces that framed her cheekbones, “And then maybe I’ll ride your face again if you’re good.”

“Yeah?” She hummed through a smirk, our lips connecting again.

I nodded, “If you’re good.”

#ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams #pt2 #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou x reader #ellie x reader #ellie x f!reader

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