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sugarnspice630 · 7 months ago

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I wonder how would each member react that you wore a phenomenon perfume to seduce them (yk the tiktok trend,when the girlfriend wore that perfume and their boyfriend sniffing them like crazy.)

I wonder how ateez would react..

I would be happy if you do it 🥺

Hi anon! Omg I absolutely love this idea. I am also curious how Ateez would react in this situation, so let’s dive in to see what I’ve come up with! 😈🙏

Ateez's Reactions to You Using a Pheromone Perfume Around Them

A/N: Sometimes I changed the prompt to have already established the pheromone perfume or it wasn't necessarily used to seduce the member. I hope that's okay! I just got bored of essentially writing the same thing in different fonts so I had to change it up a bit for my sake, but all stories still involve the perfume! Please be sure to drop a like, reblog if you enjoyed it, and comment your favorite part! Happy reading!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆───

Hongjoong

Going for a night drive with Hongjoong, being the passenger princess like you loved. Listening to the music playing from the stereo and taking in the beautiful scenery of city life at night. The peaceful humming of Hongjoong singing along to the song currently playing and tapping the steering wheel to the beat. Sitting at a red light waiting to turn, you decided to dig in your bag for your perfume to "touch up your scent." Fortunately for Hongjoong, the perfume of choice for the night was the pheromone perfume that has been seen all over the internet. You saw videos of how crazy it made everyone’s boyfriends react, and you wanted to try it out on him. You opened the cap and rolled the perfume on your wrists and neck, snapping the cap back on the perfume and placing it into your bag. The light changed, and Hongjoong was able to turn. Your body leaned closer to him since you were turning left, and the air in the car blew the smell of your perfume over to him. He glanced over at you to make sure you didn’t spill anything since the smell was so strong. It was a smell he had never smelled before, but it was making his body react in an animalistic way.

“Mm, b-baby what did you just put on?”

“Nothing..just my usual perfume.” You smirked, realizing it had such a quick effect on him.

“Can’t be.” He shifted in his seat with his eyes forward. “This perfume is different than your other kind.” His grip on the wheel tightens, and he looks for a place to pull over. His breathing increases heavily as he keeps leaning over to your side of the car to catch a better whiff.

“Hongjoong what are you-?” You say as he quickly whips into an almost empty parking lot, harshly puts the car in park, and unfastens his seatbelt, crawling over to you. His face dove straight into your neck, and he was sniffing you like a wild dog. You reached your hand up to his face as he breathed in your smell.

“I’m sorry baby. We’ll get back to our drive later. I need to get more of you right now.”

Seonghwa

You were sitting in front of your vanity, getting ready for your date with Seonghwa. You were almost finished with your routine. Just a few more touch-ups you had to do. You had this perfume that Seonghwa loved when you wore it because it made him find you irresistible. Little did he know, it was a pheromone perfume that was meant to drive him crazy. You had seen it everywhere online and decided you wanted to try it out on him. You picked up your favorite lip gloss and rolled it across your lips. You see Seonghwa walking up to you in the mirror. You smiled softly as you watched him approach you.

“You look amazing darling~.” He said this as he kissed the top of your head, looking at you in the mirror.

“Thank you baby. I always try to look nice for you.”

"Well, you don’t have to try that hard~ since you always look amazing.” He rests his head on top of yours as he gently wraps his arms around you. You finished getting ready as he cuddled you. Shortly after, you finished your makeup and turned to Seonghwa.

“All done~.”

“Mmm, not yet. You’re forgetting something.” He says this as he gets up off your head to reach for the vile of pheromone perfume on the desk.

“Seonghwa I can’t wear that.”

“Please darling? I wanna put it on you.” He said it with a slight pout as he popped off the cap of the perfume, and you couldn’t help but smile and nod as he seemed so excited to help you out. He dotted the bottle along your collarbone, careful not to put on too much as it would drive him absolutely insane. He placed the cap back on the bottle and set it down. He looked you in the eyes and up and down, taking in the view before him. Leaning down to take a small whiff, the smell of the perfume fills his senses and his head.

“Now I’ll have to fight all the men who try to come after you tonight.” He says with a smirk as he takes your hand and helps you up off the chair to go on your date.

Yunho

You felt bad that every time Yunho would talk about Valorant or Spider-Man, you always had to just nod and smile. The guilt was setting in because you could not really understand what he was saying. The excitement and passion on his face was enough to keep you interested, but the information would never stick because you had no baseline, and then you felt bad when he would ask you, “Oh, remember this thing I told you?” and you couldn’t remember. To make your teaching interesting, you put on a pheromone perfume that you recently bought online. Apparently, the perfume had an effect on men that activated their hormones and made them go crazy over you. Gliding the perfume on your wrist and across your neck, making sure to put it on your sweet spots. You picked up a notebook and pen to be able to take notes to study. You walked over to where Yunho was.

“Yunho I want you to teach me about Valorant.”

“H-huh? All of a sudden?”

“Yeah! I feel bad when I can’t remember the things you tell me, so give me the basics so I can study and be able to remember better.”

“Ah..o-okay. Have a seat.” He said, patting next to him, smiling and looking at you. You walked over and sat down next to him. The breeze from you sitting down went over to Yunho, and a new scent filled his nose. His breath hitched in his throat, and you gave him a confused expression.

“You alright love?”

“I-I don’t know.” He leaned in closer to you and took a deep breath. “Did you get a new perfume?”

“Yeah, I saw it online and wanted to try it.” You admitted it shyly, hiding what the perfume actually did and admiring the way Yunho was acting.

“It- it smells really good. I like it a lot.” He leaned closer to you and breathed in heavily again. Placing a hand on the back of your neck and sticking his nose into the crevice.

“Yunho- what about Valorant?”

“Valorant is the least important thing right now. Give me a few minutes with you instead.”

Yeosang

Trying out the viral pheromone perfume that so many ladies on the internet said worked wonders. After doing dozens of hours of research to find the best one, you placed an order and waited for it to come in the mail. You were busy doing other things at the time it was delivered, so Yeosang brought the package in for you.

“This has your name on it baby.”

“Oh! Thank you!” You say as you take the package and smile to yourself.

“What did you order?”

“Ah, n-nothing. Just something I saw on the internet that I wanted. People have been saying it’s really good.” You shyly smile and set the package on your side. Yeosang nods and lets you get back to your work. When he leaves the room, you excitedly open the package and examine the product. You open the box and slide out a little dark blue vial that has a ball-roll cap on the end. You took the cap off and sniffed it. You couldn’t really smell anything, but you thought maybe it would smell different on your skin. You applied it generously to your skin and popped the cap back on. Waiting a few minutes for it to soak in and trying to sniff your wrists. There was a soft vanilla scent; it was quite pleasant, but not like your everyday perfume. You wanted to see how Yeosang reacted to it, since the internet made it seem instantaneous. You walked out of your room and went over to him.

“Did you try your thing out?” He asked as he watched you walk in. You nodded and hummed a “mmhmm”, walking over to him, hoping the smell would permeate over to him quickly.

“What do you think~?”

“Well, I’m not sure what you got.”

“It was a new perfume I wanted to try.” You said this as you held your wrist near his nose. He leaned closer to take a whiff of it and pondered for a moment.

“Did you...put enough on? It doesn’t really smell like anything.”

“I-I think I did..” Your voice trails off, feeling saddened and tricked by the internet yet again.

“I mean, I smell something, but it’s just not that strong.” Yeosang says a little more upbeat cause he could tell you were getting slightly upset. You sniffed your wrist again, and it still smelled the same.

“Maybe I got the wrong kind?”

“Everyone’s skin takes perfumes differently darling. Don’t feel bad.” Yeosang reassured you as he placed his hand on your shoulder and rubbed gently. You nodded softly and laid your head on his shoulder. He breathed in softly and noticed that something felt different about him. His body was reacting in some way to this new perfume you had on. He tried not to notice what was going on, but as he breathed in more, the scent only got more and more overwhelming for him. He fidgeted in his seat, and you couldn’t help but notice.

“You alright Yeosang?”

“I-I think I understand what this perfume does now.” He quickly said this under his breath before he turned over and placed you down on the couch, diving his nose into your neck to take in more of the scent. "Y-You should wear this more often my sweet."

San

Secretly applying this new pheromone perfume that you bought online in the room next to San’s gaming room. You bought it because you heard it smells really good, and men will find you irresistible. You unexpectedly got a call from one of your friends begging you to meet up for dinner, as you haven’t hung out in forever because of being busy with work. You accepted, seeing as San was busy with gaming. You walked into his room, tapped on his shoulder, and he removed his headphone from one ear to listen to you. You tell him you were going to go out with your friend. He nodded quickly, breathed in, and was immediately stunned by what he was smelling. He excused himself from the game and removed his headset, standing up and touching all over you, pushing himself closer to you.

“Darling, d-did you do something different?”

“No, just the usual.” You smirked to yourself, surprised it had this quick of an effect on him. He pressed his nose into the crevice of your neck, breathing heavily through his nose. “S-Sannie I have to go now.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” He growls as he pushes his body even closer to yours and breathes in quicker to gather more of your scent. You bring your hands up to try to push him off of you so that you can get ready to go meet up with your friend.

“San…I-I have to go- my friend-“ Your words are being cut off by San kissing and rubbing his nose along your neck.

“Sorry darling, but you’re not meeting with your friend tonight. I need you here with me instead.”

Mingi

“I got this for you love.” Mingi said as he handed you a small gift bag. You smiled and awed as you were taken aback by his sudden and kind action. Mingi always loved buying you things that he thought you would like. You carefully opened the bag and unrolled the tissue paper that was wrapped around the small, long, rectangular box inside the bag. You examined the box and saw it was a type of roll-on perfume. The label had a bunch of different fruits on the side, so you assumed it had a fruity smell. You smiled and looked at Mingi with loving eyes. He had a flustered look on his face.

“Thank you Mingi! I appreciate it very much.”

"Ah, it’s nothing really…I-I saw that a lot of girls online were buying it and saying how good it was, and my girl always has to have the best.” He was fidgeting with his hands at his sides.

“I love you so much Mingi.” You placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, and he smiled at your gesture. “I’ll go try it out right now.” You excused yourself to the bathroom and opened the perfume box. You sniffed the cap and couldn’t really smell anything at first. Applying it gently to your skin, you sniffed where you placed it and got a hint of a citrus smell. It was a light scent that you could use in case of an emergency. Setting the tube back on the bathroom counter, you walked back out to the room Mingi was in.

“This smells pretty good Mingi, thank you!” You said with glee as you sat down beside him. As you sat down, the air blew the perfume smell over to him, and he breathed in. The intoxicating smell immediately filled his nostrils and filled his head with thoughts. You saw him tense up as you sat down and raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”

“Y-yeah everything’s fine.” He smiled and shifted in his seat. You dismissed his odd behavior and cuddled up next to him. Mingi kept shifting in his seat and leaning down to smell the perfume on you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Mingi holted his actions and sighed.

“I have to tell you something….that perfume…it’s a..pheromone perfume.” He stuttered out and couldn’t meet your eyes.

“O-oh…” Your face flushed as it connected why he bought it for you.

“Yeah…and now my brain and body are on fire, and I need to show you how you just made me feel.”

Wooyoung

You had had a small argument with Wooyoung earlier in the day, which resulted in you not talking to each other that much. You both had errands you needed to run, so you went together just to save time. Stupidly, you had forgotten something inside the house and asked if he could run inside quick and get it for you since you were already buckled in the driver’s seat. He silently nodded, let out a small "mhm,” and got out of the car to get your item. You couldn’t handle Wooyoung not talking to you even after you apologized, so you decided to try out this pheromone perfume that one of your friends had given you. You rolled it on your wrists and neck, the spots that make the scent stick the best. You saw Wooyoung coming back in the rear view mirror and quickly placed the perfume back in your bag. He opened the door and handed you the item you had forgotten, leaning close to you to make sure you didn’t have to stretch too far to reach it. You heard him take a sniff through his nose, and he paused for a second.

“Are you wearing that perfume?”

“What are you talking about Youngie?”

“That perfume. I’ve been seeing it all over the internet.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. It’s just my normal perfume-“ Your words were cut off by Wooyoung diving his face into your neck and placed his hand on the other side. He kissed the side of your face.

“You smell so good baby.” You smirk to yourself, seeing how feral he was acting over your scent. Driving his nose further into your neck and leaving sloppy kisses all over your neck.

“Are you not mad at me anymore?”

“I couldn’t be mad at you anymore, but our errands are going to have to wait a little longer.”

Jongho

Jongho was planning on going out with the boys today, but you decided to try to see if you could keep him home with you instead. You secretly rolled on the pheromone perfume that you got a while ago that he really seemed to like on you, for obvious reasons. Just before he walked into your room to tell you he was getting ready to go, he made a small knock on your door. You greeted him with a smile, and he smiled right back at you. Walking over towards you to give you a kiss goodbye.

"Alright baby, the boys are waiting for me outside."

"Okie, bye sweetheart. I love you. Have fun!" You tell him as he leans down towards you to give you a kiss on the forehead before he leaves. After the kiss, he makes his way back over to the door of your room, but turns around before fully walking out, looking back at you and softly licking his lips. He walks back over to you again, and you're confused as to why he came back. Leaning down close to you to get another whiff of your scent. He has this huge smile on his face as he leans back up.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"What do you mean Jongho?"

"The-the perfume? That I like. The special perfume?" The smile on his face is so contagious, you can't help but smile back at him as well.

"No~." You tease him as you softly laugh at his reaction to it, knowing that you are getting exactly what you want. "Just go have fun with the boys!"

"O-okay yeah, you're right. I'm going now." He says as he slowly walks backwards to the door, still smiling like a fool at you. "Love you!"

"Love you too baby." He reaches for the door handle and goes to pull it shut. Not a moment passes and he opens the door back up.

"Do you wanna watch a movie instead?" Popping his head out from the side of the door.

"What happened with going out with the boys~?" You can't help but laugh at him wanting to stay with you, and it's all thanks to the perfume you put on.

"Y-yeah, I think I'd rather go out with you though babe. Stay in for the night, you know?" He waltzes his way back into your room, coming closer to you and catching another whiff of the perfume.

"I guess I can't say no to you~."

"Oh, I know you can't." His face is pressed into your neck, and you feel the gentle air coming in and out of his nose as he breathes in and out, taking in your scent.

Tags: @pre1ttyies @isiloiale @moongoddess1982 @xuchiya @myloveforyunho

@yeosangsbbg @sanipan @10nantscompanion @sanspuppet @sugawara-levi

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msmk11 · 3 months ago

Text

Just Like All the Other Angry Boyfriends Before

James Potter x Hufflepuff!fem!reader

WC: 4.2k

CW: angst; hurt/comfort; fluff; idiots

Summary: Two idiots in love who don’t know how to handle their emotions properly- aka school dance drama

A/n: yall said you wanted this fic even tho I lowkey hate it, so here it is!

Shrill squeals echo through the stone corridor as you make your way to the Great Hall after class. You turn the corner to find a group of girls surrounding Alice Fortescue and Frank Longbottom. Alice is blushing profusely as you hear her declare, “yes I’ll go to the formal with you!”

Frank whoops excitedly and draws Alice into a warm embrace. There are more squeals from the girls, so high pitched you’re sure they’ve shattered your ear drums. As you pass the happy couple, you smile at them warmly and share your congratulations. On the inside, however, you grimace. You’re no antagonist to fun, really, but as the winter formal continues to approach closer and closer, and you are still without a date, you find yourself beginning to reject the idea of any formal at all. It’s not that you have a lack of options either- plenty of people have asked you- but rather, you’ve been holding off in hopes that a certain special someone will.

Begrudgingly, you accept that if you put things off much longer, you will be dateless. And while you’re not necessarily opposed to going alone, you’d rather not when nearly all your friends have dates. Lily has Mary, Marlene has Dorcas, Alice has Frank, and Remus has Sirius.

That leaves you and James.

Although you’re a Hufflepuff, you throw your stuff down onto the Gryffindor table and plop into a seat next to Lily. You huff dejectedly and rest your head on her shoulder, “Why does everyone have to be all happy and in love? It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid honey, you’re just bitter because P-“

You slap your hand over her mouth and glare at her, “SHH there’s people around.”

“Right, sorry,” she replies, prying your hand off her mouth.

“Also…” she pauses and sniffs your hand, “is that a new lotion? What scent is it?”

Before you can answer, you’re interrupted by Mary who sits down on the other side of Lily and kisses her on the cheek.

“Uh, babe, why are you sniffing her hand?”

“I’m not weird, I swear! She’s the one who shoved her hand in my face. I just wanted to know what lotion she was using.”

Mary gives the two of you questioning looks.

“Potter” Lily mouths.

Mary nods in understanding and smirks. She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively as she shifts her attention to the raven-haired boy a few seats down.

“Still waiting for him to ask you?”

“Mhmmm.”

“You know, it is the 20th century, you could try asking him for a change.”

“Excellent idea, love! Oi, Potter, come here,” Lily shouts.

You glare at them in panic and mumble, “I hate you both.”

James looks up from his conversation with his friends and slides down the bench towards you.

“We have a very important question for you,” Lily says.

You glare at her once again, “I think Lily here is actually far over exaggerating the importance of the question. I’m sure whatever discussion you were having with Remus, Peter, and Sirius was much more urgent.”

James chuckles, “It’s the opposite actually. Remus and Sirius were arguing over what they are wearing to the formal. So really, you saved me.”

You let out the most pitiful laugh, cursing your luck.

“So… what is this very important question you wanted to ask me?”

You attempt to act nonchalant as you ask him if he has a date for the formal yet.

“Oh, the formal? Not yet, though I have a few options in mind. But if you’re implying you want to go together, I’m totally down.”

You’re pretty sure your heart skips a beat.

“I mean, I don’t want you to go alone while everyone else in the friend group has a date.”

This time, your heart drops.

“Oh, so you don’t mind doing me a favor and taking me to the formal?” You ask, an accusing tone to your voice.

“Right, that’s what friends are for,” he says, innocently.

Nail in the coffin.

“So, let me get this straight. You’ll only go with me because you feel sorry for me and because you don’t think I can get a date to the formal?” you ask angrily.

“No I-“ he begins defensively.

“Well you should know, Potter, that I do have a date to the formal, and I was only asking if you had one because I was worried you were going to be the one going alone.”

“Wait! You’re going with someone?!” He says, shocked.

“Don’t act so surprised. Just because I’m ‘one of the guys’ to you doesn’t mean I’m not desirable to other people,” you retort.

Then, you stand up and snatch your books off the table. As you storm away you hear him yell, “Wait, but who are you going with?”

Great question.

*****

Back in the Hufflepuff dorms, you sit in one of the common room chairs stewing over your recent interaction with James. While your initial reaction was anger, time has led way to more intense feelings of hurt. While he didn’t outwardly reject you, the sting of the friend zone was just as painful. You needed to move on, but with who?

The universe seems to answer your question in the form of Amos Diggory.

Amos Diggory- an arrogant, handsome, girlfriend-stealer, with an intense fear of commitment. He would be perfect.

No foreigner to flirting, you put on your most charming smile and call out, “Hey Diggory…”

He looks in your direction and you motion for him to come sit. He smiles at his friends and shoos them away. As Amos comes and sits down next to you you know that, if this goes according to plan, you will royally piss James off. The two rival in looks and on the quidditch field, and James cannot stand Amos.

“Hey gorgeous,” he says, looking you up and down.

“So, you, uh, have a date to the formal yet?”

“No, I prefer to go alone. So my options are open.”

You smirk teasingly, “What if I can convince you to change your mind?”

Amos smiles at you seductively, “I’m listening.”

“Well, you like to go to these things alone so you can entertain the attentions of many girls. But, if you go with one girl, me, you’ll get even more attention. What is going to happen when all of the girls at Hogwarts think that the Amos Diggory is off the market?”

“You have me intrigued,” he says, “And how are you not in Slytherin with that devious little mind of yours?”

“I prefer to keep it my little secret.”

Then, you lean closer to him, “Though I guess it’s our little secret now.”

Amos is falling perfectly into your trap, and you know that he already wants to kiss you. You pull away before he even gets the chance.

“Before I agree, what’s in this for you?” He asks.

“Revenge on James Potter…”

If your flirting hadn’t fully won him over, this does.

*****

In the evening, you make your way to the Gryffindor common room where you always do homework with your friends. Though James, Peter, and Sirius consistently show up late, you make sure to leave extra early to avoid conversation with James at all costs.

You forget, however, that James sometimes knows you better than you know yourself. So when you arrive, he is already there on the couch, waiting for you. Lily and Remus are spread out on the floor, Mary is sprawled across a red chair, and Dorcas is lying in Marlene’s lap reading her textbook while Marlene writes a paper. James shoots up from his seat as you walk in.

“Hey! Can we talk?” He asks anxiously.

Although they pretend to hide it, you know your friends are secretly listening. Still, you don’t care.

“No, James, we can’t. Although it may be uncharted territory, you and I are in what people call a fight. So just let me be.”

“But shouldn’t we talk?”

“No, James. I don’t want to talk. Not right now.”

The fight leaves his body and he retreats, “fine. I’ll just leave you be.”

He grabs his stuff and goes up to his dorm as you settle yourself in his place.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?” Remus asks softly.

“Maybe,” you say, “But I’m sick of always downplaying my feelings to protect his. It’s not fair to me.”

Lily grabs your hand, “you’re right, it’s not fair. And I’m sorry for pushing all of this on you, it wasn’t my place.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry too,” Mary adds.

“Well, I’m not. This just encouraged me to get over my silly little crush and focus my attentions on someone who will actually take interest in me. There are plenty of people out there.”

“Hell yeah there are!” Marlene says encouragingly.

Dorcas smacks her arm, “Marlene! James is one of your best friends!”

“So is she! I love them both, but she’s right, she needs to do what’s best for her.”

“Just don’t push him away completely,” Dorcas tells you seriously.

“I won’t,” you sigh, “He‘s still so important to me. It just won’t be in the way that I hoped.”

Silence falls over the group.

“Who fucking died?”

Everyone jumps and turns to look in the direction of the voice. Behind you stands Sirius and Peter, both with perplexed looks on their faces.

“James, after she fucking tore him apart earlier,” Marlene replies, motioning to you.

Peter nods as he plops down by your feet, “Oh right! I heard about that.”

Sirius smacks you upside the head, “Yeah, what was that all about?”

“He basically called me a fucking unattractive loser. What else was I supposed to do?” You say, smacking him back.

“I think you’re over-exaggerating just a little bit,” Mary responds cautiously.

“I mean, I think he was just trying to be nice. Maybe it hurt because he essentially friendzoned you?” Lily adds.

“Wait, do you have a crush on James?” Sirius asks you.

“Sirius, have you really never noticed?” Remus responds disbelievingly.

Sirius only shrugs his shoulders.

“Okay, I get it, I get it. James is the perfect golden boy and I’m just another one of Potter’s stupid fangirls who follows him blindly and makes a fool of themselves.”

“Honey no,” Lily starts, “it’s not that it’s-“

“Can you not lecture me, please?” You interrupt, “Maybe I overreacted, but is it so wrong to be angry about being pitied. Especially by someone you really care about?”

“No, it’s not,” Peter tells you, “I get it.”

“Thank you,” you respond dejectedly.

It’s quiet for a moment and you’re stuck stewing in your own self-loathing.

Then, Lily speaks up again, “Uhm, I have one more question, and then I’ll drop the subject.”

You nod, encouraging her to continue.

“Who are you going to take to the formal? Because you told James you had a date, even though you didn’t.”

“Oh, yeah, uhmmm about that…” you say, laughing nervously.

“What rash thing did you do now?” Dorcas asks.

“I may or may not have asked Amos Diggory to be my date to the dance…. And he said yes.”

Marlene laughs loudly, “Oh shit!”

*****

To avoid conflict, you decide that it’s best for you to go to the formal with Amos and his friends rather than string him along with yours. Tension is already high between James and you, and you know Amos’ being there would only make things worse. You try to push it out of your mind, but you can’t help wondering who James is taking to the formal with him. You picture all the prettier, smarter, and better girls he could be going with, and your stomach begins to ache. You are also worried about what people will say in relation to you going with Amos.

Your thoughts start to spiral. Will people hate you? Will James hate you? Is your dress all wrong? Will you be the worst dressed there? The anxieties are endless and there seems to be no relief in sight.

Still, you push through and doll yourself up, masking your true feelings behind layers of hairspray, makeup, and itchy fabric. Your dress is light blue with a silvery sheer fabric over top, like fresh snow on a frozen lake. The top half is form-fitting with silvery straps, and the bottom spreads outward in a loose skirt. You twist back the front strands of your hair with silver clips and adorn your face with light makeup and shimmery eyeshadow. At promptly eight you drag yourself to the common room where Amos sits with his friends and their dates.

You put on a fake smile, “Amos, you look handsome.”

He looks you up and down, “I know. And you look hot.”

What a gentleman.

You say a polite thank you and avoid some of the stares you’re getting from the other girls. You can tell that some are jealous already, yet they maintain outward politeness, which you’re grateful for.

Amos, at least, extends his arm, which you grab, as you walk towards the Great Hall. Your walk is filled with polite conversation about simple things from quidditch, to class, and plans for the holidays. So far, it’s not as bad as you thought, though you wished you would have just gone dateless with your friends.

You cast these regrets aside, however, when you arrive at your destination. To no one’s surprise, the Hogwarts decorating committee has outdone themselves once again. The typical long, wooden tables are gone and in place is a magnificent white dance floor that seems to shimmer like the snow. Warm, golden globes of light hang from the sky and snowflakes fall from above, though never reaching the ground. The room is an explosion of silvers, whites, and blues, and you’re sure you’ve stepped into a winter wonderland.

“This is just-“ Amos begins.

“Wow” you finish, “Like a winter wonderland.”

“And you’re its queen,” he says.

You blush in spite of yourself.

“Compliments won’t get you a kiss so soon,” you tease, “It’s only eight.”

He bites his lip, “fine. But I can only restrain myself from a beautiful girl so long.”

You laugh lightly and swat him on the shoulder. Then, music begins to play.

Amos motions towards the dance floor, “shall we?”

*****

As James adjusts his tie in the mirror, he can’t help but think about what a pathetic loser he is. Although he’d had plenty of girls who he could have gone to the formal with, he continued to wait, assuming there would be someone better coming along. Who that person was, he wasn’t sure. But now, he was alone.

And then there was you. He doesn't know what happened. One second you two were fine, and then suddenly, you blew up. While he knows that he insulted you, he can’t understand why you are so angry. Sirius said not to overthink it, that girls are just complicated, but you are one of his best friends. He knows there is something else going on and it’s left a terrible pit in his stomach.

“Earth to James!”

“Huh?” He awakes from his trance and notices that Peter is waving his hand in front of his face.

“You ready to go?”

“Oh, yeah.”

They head downstairs and meet up with the rest of the group- Pete and his girl from Ravenclaw, Sirius and Remus, Marlene and Dorcas, Mary and Lily, and you-

Not present because he is an ass.

James wonders who you’re going with.

They all cheer loudly, “James, you look great!”

“Thanks, guys, but it’s you all that look great.”

“Hell yeah we do!” Sirius exclaims.

Everyone laughs and begins to file out the portrait hole down to the Great Hall. Despite being the only dateless friend, James’ spirits are lifted by their jokes and ramblings. When they reach the dance, everyone oohs and aahs over the shimmery decorations. Instantly, James cranes his neck, looking for you in the crowd as he walks with the group towards a table off to the left. As they all set their stuff down, the music begins to play and couples rush to the floor. His friends join them, excited to dance.

“James, you coming?” Sirius asks.

He shakes his head, “next song.”

Sirius shrugs and walks off with Remus. James continues to search the crowd, looking for you. He realizes he doesn’t know what you’re wearing- and he supposes he never asked. James wonders if best friends are supposed to do that sort of thing.

Probably.

It hits him, then. With everything that’s been going on lately- being head boy, quidditch captain, and taking ridiculously hard classes, he’d sort of ignored you. It’s no wonder you’re so angry with him.

James feels totally guilty until he sees you. It’s then, he realizes, that he has a reason to be angry too. There you are, after all his moping and worrying, with Amos fucking Diggory. James knows that he hasn’t been the best of friends lately, but Diggory? That was his rival! You were crossing a line.

But what really bothers him the most is the way you’re laughing at something Diggiry said. He is hardly funny, and has the personality of a piece of paper. And why are you leaning so close to him? He’s not even that attractive or charming.

As you swirl across the dance floor, he watches how your hands hold tightly to Diggory’s shoulders, like he’s your anchor. James also notices Diggory’s hands around your waist, far too close to your ass, and his blood boils. No way would he let his rival feel up his friend.

When the song ends, James begins to stalk towards you two, but is pushed backwards by Sirius and Remus.

“Not worth it mate,” Sirius warns.

“But Padfoot, this is unbelievable. She is unbelievable. How could she ever agree to go with him? She knows how much I hate him, and is just trying to get back at me.”

“Mate, it’s this type of thinking that pushed her into his arms,” Remus mumbles.

“What, what do you mean?”

“James, she asked him to the formal after you basically made her feel like shit. Whether she realized it or not, she turned to who she thought would hurt you the most. She wanted you to feel what she was feeling, even a little bit.”

“It’s not her best decision, but ignoring her wasn’t yours either,” Sirius adds.

James rubs his face tiredly, “God, I know.”

Sirius pats his back, “Just… take a few minutes and then come join us. Don’t let it ruin your night.”

“And while you’re sitting here, maybe reflect a little more on why you’re so upset,” Remus adds.

“Rem-” Sirius says with a warning tone.

He puts his hands up defensively, “I didn’t say anything. Let’s go.”

As they walk away James notices their slight bickering. He laughs at them in spite of himself. Secretly, he’s always been a little bit jealous of their relationship. Though they are far from perfect, they’re comfortable with each other in a way that he can only hope for. He thinks the fact that they were friends for five years before they dated helped. There’s this trust and friendship that is so necessary in order to support the love and passion that comes with romance.

As another song ends, James decides not to get up from his seat. He watches Amos and you some more. While his blood is still boiling, there is a twinge of something else.

“Maybe reflect a little more on why you’re upset.”

*****

Surprisingly, you’re having more fun with Amos than you thought you would. While you would never date him, you appreciate his company tonight. He’s been making you laugh all night, so you’re surprised when another song comes on and he suddenly gets serious.

“You know, gorgeous, I’m not one to waste my time on Potter, but he’s been glaring in our direction for the past fifteen minutes.”

“Just ignore him.”

“I would, but it’s kind of hard when he is burning holes into my head.”

You huff apologetically, “God, I’m so sorry. I hope it’s not ruining your night.”

“Eh, I’m used to Potter throwing temper tantrums when he doesn’t get what he wants. He’s clearly just mad he’s not dancing with the most beautiful girl in the room.”

“Pfft, yeah right. He’s just mad that I’m dancing with you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t give a shit.”

“Can I give you my honest opinion?”

You hum in agreement.

“As I’m sure you know, I have a reputation for girlfriend stealing.”

“Yes? And?” You say, confused.

“Well, with stealing girlfriends also comes a lot of angry boyfriends. And Potter over there, he looks exactly like all the angry boyfriends I’ve dealt with, who want to beat the shit out of me.”

“Which makes no sense, because he doesn’t act like a boyfriend whenever we’re together. It’s not fucking fair. He doesn’t want me, but it’s like he doesn’t want anyone else to have me either.”

“Listen to me. I may not know what the fuck is going on with you two, but it’s pretty clear to anyone that you guys both have feelings for each other. So, as your date, I think it's my duty to end ours early. We both achieved our goals- all the girls in the room want me, and Potter can’t take his eyes off of you.”

You release a shaky sigh, “Okay, fine.”

As the song ends he releases you and gives you a wink, “Well, for now, this is goodbye. Since I’m sure you’ll be Potter’s girlfriend by the end of the night, I imagine we are going to be mortal enemies from now on. Or until graduation at least.”

You chuckle a little as you straighten his tie one last time.

“Go get him,” he says.

You stand up on your tip toes and kiss him on the cheek, “Bye Diggory. Next time I speak to you, you better be settled down with a nice girl, at 9 ¾, with your rowdy kids for their first year of school.”

He laughs and you part ways for the night. Before you allow yourself to approach James, you walk outside to the courtyard nearby. You lean up against the railing and look out towards the stars. The cool breeze fills your lungs and is comfortable against your hot skin. It’s silent except for the soft notes of music drifting out from the Great Hall.

“So, you and Diggory huh?”

You jump at James’ voice and turn to him, “Yep, and you and the invisible girl. I thought you were Mr. Hotshot, with plenty of girls lined up as possible dates?”

“And I thought Hufflepuffs were supposed to be loyal.”

You scoff, “It wasn’t personal, James. Just a silly little date to a silly little formal.”

“Bullshit” he yells, “You were mad so you went and found a date that you knew I would hate!”

“God, you are so conceited! Not everything is about you. Maybe I just liked Amos’ company. He’s not all that bad, you know.”

“Oh, so now you’re defending him? Next thing I know there’ll be wedding bells.”

“Maybe there will be. He’s funny, attractive, and actually gives me the time of day!” you retort.

“Just so he can get you into his bed, fuck you, and then ignore you after,” James shouts back.

You stare at each other in silence for a moment.

“I mean, Merlin, is that really what you want? I know it's not my place to give my opinion about who you date or-”

“And that’s the whole problem,” you interrupt.

“What?”

“James, you're my best friend. I want your opinion about these things- even if I don’t always want to hear it. It at least shows you care about me. Lately, it’s like I don’t even exist.”

“I know, I know and I’m sorry. You deserve better. A better friend and…” he steps a little closer, “a better romantic interest?”

You let out a small laugh, “romantic interest?”

“What? If this night has shown me anything, I clearly don’t know what- or who- you’re looking for in romance. And that’s on me. But I want that to change from now on.”

You take a deep breath and step even closer to him. You look up into his hazel eyes, your faces so close your noses are almost touching.

“Well, in the name of change, I guess I have to confess, I do have a romantic interest… in you.”

“And as a part of my duties as your best friend, I believe it my responsibility to tell you that… you should go for it.”

Already so close together, you merely stand on your tip toes and lock lips with James. He kisses back and puts his hands around your waist. For a second, he pulls away.

You look up at him with questioning eyes.

His grip on your waist tightens, “I don’t ever want another man’s hands here ever again. It was driving me crazy tonight, the way Amos was touching you.”

You smirk at him, “Jealous are we?”

He grunts in affirmation and pulls you in again. The kiss lasts a few minutes with you up against the railing. At first it’s fast and passionate. But with time it becomes slower and more sweet. More loving.

Eventually, you slowly pull apart. You look at him softly and ask breathlessly, “So, do you have a date to the formal yet?”

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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months ago

Note

Can you please do some headcanons of Stanley being fake married to Fords’ assistant. They had to put up this charade for 30 years to convince people he was Stanford and “Mr. And Mrs. Mystery would bring in way more business!” Dipper and Mabel see her as a mother figure and Mabel likes to plan out their dates because she firmly believes they don’t go on ENOUGH of them. While they’re both on one of these said dates they realize “wait…do I actually like you??” (Slow burn is indeed 30 years slowwwww)

This is so fucking long oh my fucking god-I’m actually going to have to make a part two or something. This is just too long.

Part two here

When you and Ford first arrived at Gravity Falls a lot of people were under the impression that you were a married couple, where they got that preposterous idea form neither of you had single clue but as hard as you and Ford tried to disprove their claims, insisting they you were just platonic partners and nothing more.

It only seemed to give them more reason to assume that there was something more going on between you both. So in the end you both elected to ignore it as Gravity Falls was a small unknown, sleepy town that wasn’t on any recorded map that you chalked it down to them needing something to gossip about to spare them of how boring their lives were. But you and Ford knew others wise and saw Gravity Falls as a treasure trove of information regarding the mysterious and the unknown, it was the main reasons you started this partnership to begin with after all.

But things were quick to fall apart just as it seemed you were getting closer to what you knew was the truth as Ford made a deal with a triangular demon known as Bill, easily swayed by his tricks and even more so by his constant repetition that Ford should ‘trust no one’ not even you, his assistant. Naturally it caused a rift between the two of you as you were sick and tired of having to try and reassure Ford- who was slowly succumbing to paranoia- that you weren’t in any way shape or threat to his research. Even bringing up how you both spend hours on end documenting mushrooms, fungi and others of a similar vein when you both first moved to Gravity Falls.

However this tactic didn’t work in your favour unfortunately as one thing lead to another and you were left helpless as you watched Ford get pulled into the portal that his brother -Stanley- had accidentally pushed him into during their squabble, watching as it seemingly closed forever.

You wanted to be mad at Stanley, you really did but the man had just lost his brother, his twin brother seemingly forever due to his own actions. So instead you eased off of him and offered to help him with reopening the portal in order to get Ford back, while also giving a triangle demon a piece of your mind for taking advantage of your overachiever of a friend. Ford being lost seeing forever hurt you just as badly as it hurt Stanley and you would do anything and everything if it meant seeing your friend again.

That and probably scold him for ever thinking that a deal with demon would ever go down well without some sort of hidden agenda, for if a deal sounds too good to be true then it might as well be. Something you’ve learned from Stan, whom you leaned was an expert conman who conned people for a living in order to get by. You didn’t necessarily saw it as a good thing to do, living off of the nativity of people and their gullible natures, but you didn’t have much of a choice when Stan assumed the identity of his twin and even has the audacity to lean into the town’s assumptions of you and Ford being married.

‘But we’re not married!’ You spat, letting go of Stan’s hand when you got home after a trip into town, all that effort you and Ford tried in order for people to stop assuming your relationship was ruined in one fell swoop, was this town really that desperate that they’d deeply get involved in someone’s life like?

(Yes the answer was yes)

‘I know that and you know that, but they don’t have to know that. Think about all the money we could make off of this! They’d be eating out of the palm of our hands!’ Stan replied with a smile while you could only scoff, not understanding how this was Ford’s twin brother when the two were only alike in the physical sense rather then anything else.

‘Is that all you see this as? An opportunity to capitalise on their naivety? Their gullibility and for what? A quick buck?’ You argued back as you sat yourself down at the table in the kitchen and rested your head in your hands. ‘They’ll catch on eventually.’ You added sombrely as Stan could only watch you and feel a slight pan in his chest at seeing you upset and at a loss, completely the opposite of the person you were when standing next to Ford.

‘Listen toots, I know this isn’t how you expected things to go-‘

‘You think?’ You shot back, glaring at him as he held up his hands.

‘-but there’s no other option for us other then to keep the charade up until we can reopen that stupid portal and get my brother back.’ Stan then tested the waters by planing his hand atop of your own, felling you flinch slightly at the contact before relaxing when you felt his thumb rub your knuckles comfortingly. ‘But until then we’ve got to see this through until the end and hey maybe you’ll come to like me one day!’ He then adds with a smile but you couldn’t help but scoff.

‘Yeah right, the day I come to enjoy your company Stanley Pines is the day I enter an early grave.’ You replied but there was no malice in your voice like there was before and in that moment it felt like things were okay, even if it was brief but it was enough for you to want to take Stanley up on his word and see it through to the end.

Flash forward 30 years and you and Stanley were still going strong with the whole ‘fake marriage’ thing and to Stan’s credit a business ran by a married couple did work wonders on the paying public, most of whom would find more intrigue about how you two met more so then about the fake attractions that Stan tried to have them believe as things that once existed.

‘A unicorn made out of corn? Really Stan?’ You’d whisper to him as you forced a smile while clinging onto his arm while the dumb tourists took their pictures of the supposed unicorn made out of corn. ‘That has to be your worst one yet.’

‘Trust the process sweetheart, trust the process and watch as these idiots throw their money at the first ‘weird’ thing they see. They never stop to question its credibility and that’s what we bank on most.’ Stan replied before pressing a kiss to your forehead, something he always did to keep the facade alive and fresh, along with pulling you into his side by your waist and gloating about you and all your academic achievements to anyone with ears.

You hated how much he seemingly remembered about you that almost had you rethinking everything you know about this man. But then you stop to constantly reminded yourself that Stan only remembered these parts about you because he needed material to keep your story consistent and without any falling potholes, the man knew how to cover his bases that was for sure, and yet that didn’t stop you from feeling seen whenever Stan bragged about how smart his spouse was.

That’s the one thing that you mentally thanked him for. He didn’t make you play into stereotypes or change anything remotely about yourself to fit his narrative, he let you be the smart and intelligent spouse while he played the man who was happy to snag you before anyone else could and had been riding the high ever since. It was…sweet in a way that you couldn’t describe.

When Mabel and Dipper came to Gravity Falls they were naturally skeptical on whether they should stay with you and Stan, but soon enough did they warm up to you when you could match Dipper in terms of intelligence and treated Mabel with nothing but kindness and encouragement of her creativity. That and the fact that you could sway Stan into letting them do whatever by placing your hand on his bicep and bating your eyes at him.

‘Let the kids have fun, you were quite the troublemaker when you were their age.’ You told him as you played devils advocate for the kids going to the movies and Stan sighed before reluctantly agreeing to your terms.

‘Fine, fine.’ He says before pointing at you. ‘You owe me for this though honey.’

You smiled as you kissed his cheek. ‘And how can I do that?’ You asked.

‘How about you both go on a date!’ Mabel exclaimed from across the table as she pulls out a blindingly glittery and sparkly binder that had written across the front: Mabel’s date plans for Grunkle Stan and great aunt/Grunkle/ y/n.

‘How long have you had that sweetheart?’ You asked her, a little frightened to know the answer as you knew Mabel was emotionally intelligent when it came to these sorts of things.

‘Since I’ve noticed that you and Grunkle Stan don’t go on dates.’ She replies as her brows furrowed while she flicked through the pages of her binder for the perfect date for the pair of you.

‘We’re married honey, we don’t need to go on dates. Being together 24/7 is like a date all in itself.’ Stanley replied as he could feel your hand gripping his bicep tighten, wanting nothing more than to soothe that overworked mind of yours as he placed his hand over the top of yours and squeezed, shooing you a reassuring smile.

‘Not good enough!’ Mabel cried as she pointed at the pair of you. ‘I can see the love in your eyes, that love is so hard to come by nowadays and just because you’re married doesn’t mean you stop going on dates!’

‘When was the last time you did go on a date?’ Dipper asked this time as his eyes darted from you to his Grunkle as you both mentally swore to yourselves. You and Stan have never been on a date, sure you’ve both been through town together but you never actually went anywhere that would be considered a date. After all your marriage was just for show and tell and not the real thing, despite how much you’ve grown to like how he held you at night or looked at you as though you hung the stars in the sky.

‘A long time kiddo.’ Stan told him. ‘And it was the date where I realised that I wanted to be with them for the rest of my life.’ He adds, his eyes softening when the looked at you, making you smile in response as you moved your hand to squeezed his.

‘Awwww!’ Mabel cooed as she watched you and her Grunkle look at each other so tenderly. it was obvious to her that you meant a lot to her Grunkle Stan and he meant a lot to you too that she couldn’t help but hope to find a love like yours one day herself. ‘Which is why I think you should both go on a date tonight! Right Dipper?’

Mabel punches dipper in the shoulder. ‘Yeah you both defiantly should go on a date.’ He agrees as he rubs his shoulder.

You and Stan looked at one another and knew that there was no getting out of this one, but you were both kind of excited for it at the same time, after all what was going to happen? You both actually realise you like each other after all this time? Preposterous.

#gravity falls x reader #gravity falls imagine #gravity falls imagines #gravity falls #stanley pines imagines #stanley pines imagine #stanley pines x reader #stan pines imagines #stan pines imagine #stan pines x reader

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boydepartment · 1 year ago

Text

three strikes - nishimura riki x fem! reader

a/n: HIIIIII this was a request from my 🧈 anon :3 i hope you love it my dear

warnings- jealousy! nothing insane tho, mostly fluff 😋 i added a small inside joke that riki would call ricky from zb1 “discount ricky” all jokes tho (pls don’t kill me)

wc- honestly over 750

MASTERLIST

“here.” you looked over to riki setting your drink down on the table, you looked up at him and smiled as he sat down across from you at the cafe table.

“did you-“

“ask for extra peppermint? yes. even though it’s gross..” riki mumbled, you giggled and sipped your hot coco. it was freezing cold at least to you and so the coco helped a lot.

“when is your project partner arriving?” riki mumbled, sipping his coffee.

you shrugged, “any minute.” setting your coco down riki watched you, he wasn’t necessarily happy over this whole project partner thing. riki knew your project partner, and safe to say he was just irritated by his presence. he didn’t know why, but he was just irked.

so when the OTHER ricky walked in, he just waved and watched as the other boy sat next to you.

“hey y/n!” he smiled, you grinned back at him.

“hey! it’s cold outside are you sure you’re bundled up enough?” you asked, grabbing your books. riki just decided to go on his phone to pass time.

“yeah! it’s crazy how quickly the weather changed huh? are you warm enough?”

you and ricky made small talk which didn’t bother your best friend. that was until one sentence.

“your hands are freezing y/n!”

riki’s eyes shot up to see the discount ricky’s hands on yours. if stares could kill a man, discount ricky would be six feet under.

“oh! yeah that’s why riki, well, my riki got me hot coco.” you let go of his hand and turned to your hot beverage.

nishimura riki would be lying if he said some pride didn’t bubble up inside him, which didn’t go unnoticed by the boy sitting next to you.

riki didn’t take notice and he went back on his phone, he just wanted your project to be over so he could walk back to the car with you and just be away from people. by people he meant discount ricky. this was strike one for his patience.

“i think we should work more on the details of the piece of art itself. like things that normal people look past in monet’s art. there’s a story everywhere.” you suggested, this art project was pretty big for your grade. and you were just relieved that your project partner agreed to do monet.

“that’s such a good idea y/n.” ricky smiled.

oh please riki thought to himself, at that point discount ricky should just get on his hands and knees and beg for your attention. that’d be way less embarrassing than kissing your ass at every little- wait what the hell

to riki’s horror, discount ricky, was readjusting your beanie so your hair didn’t get in your face. this pissed him off, strike two of his patience gone. riki was the one who spent HOURS trying to crochet you that beanie last year and now he’s going to have to make you another one because discount ricky’s grimy hands touched it! riki felt his eye twitch, he ended up making eye contact with the boy next to you. a smirk ghosting his features.

riki wanted to kick his shin under the table or maybe throw his hot coffee-

“i think we should also choose one of monet’s less known works aswe- oh ouch…” you mumbled rubbing your hands, whenever you wrote or sketched too long your hands would hurt. riki always took notice of this so he looked up proper hand massages- safe to say he could be certified- WHAT THE SHIT?

discount ricky grabbed your hands and started massaging them.

strike three

“can you get your hands off her?!” riki finally snapped, “god at this point it’s revolting! i’m right in front of both of you!”

your eyes widened as you watched you best friend actually lose his temper, yeah you’d seen him bicker but this was different.

“what are you two dating?” ricky asked, if you were in a tv show you’d see the angry lightening bolt hit both of them. this was not good, you quickly packed your bags and grabbed your best friend. apologizing to your project partner.

“what’s his fucking problem?!” riki stomped through the fresh snow to your car.

“what’s his problem?! what’s your problem? what the hell was that?! are you okay?!” you had a million questions. and they were flying out.

“i- what- how is this my fault!? he had his grimy discount ricky hands all over you! only i’m allowed to do that as your best friend!”

it was really hard to take him seriously as you finally got to the car laughing. you leaned against the hood trying to catch your breath.

“y/n this isn’t funny!” he stood right next to you.

you finally caught your breath, “i’m sorry where did the nickname discount ricky come from?”

“well obviously i’m the better one way more deserving of, um hello, touching your hair, massaging your hands because im youtube certified, AND THE COLD HANDS THING?! he was flirting with you shamelessly in front of me!” riki swung his arms around like a crazy person trying to explain that the end was near.

your hat fell slightly as you laughed again which riki fixed gently before speaking again, “then he’d smirk at me like he knew he was getting on my nerves! like that discount version of ME KNEW HE WAS MAKING ME ANGRY!”

“should i take my hat off and give you sanitizer? since you touched my discount ricky infected beanie?” you asked, unlocking the car and throwing your backpack in the back. you turned around and bumped into riki.

“actually yeah take off that hat. i will sanitize it and crochet you a new one.” riki grabbed the hat off your head and gave you his own beanie.

“should i sanitize my hands too?” you asked giggling, going to open your door but slipping on black ice.

riki immediately caught you, “um guess who couldn’t catch you- discount ricky. i’m clearly better for you so.”

you started laughing again, hitting his chest playfully, “you’re acting like a jealous boyfriend.”

“is that a bad thing?” riki asked quickly, suddenly unsure of himself.

you shook your head no, “it’s cute.”

riki smiled down at you; it was obvious he was at least a little smug.

“you know what he didn’t contaminate?” you asked, still giggling, your eyes flickered from riki’s eyes to his lips. immediately he got the hint and took his chance.

discount ricky is out and nishimura riki hit a home run

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togenabi · 1 year ago

Text

things I won't tell you

vinsmoke sanji (opla) x princess!reader

♡—the new royal chef doesn't seem to recognize you without your crown. who's going to tell him? . . . certainly not you.

word count♡— 7.3k (cries)

genre♡— fluff, royal chef x princess au

content notes♡— opla sanji, afab!reader is a princess, reader wears dresses, reader has siblings (oc's), sanji made me google fancy food, mentions of zeff, sanji gets jealous if you squint, no use of y/n, proofread (but only a little)

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— this is detached from any canon, its basically just a big chunk of sanji fluff. please enjoy!

You've never really dreamed for yourself. You had always just let life fall into place around you.

The kingdom is prospering, entering a new age of commerce. Artists, craftsmen, and inventors sail seas just to be part of it.

Your sister Chrysanth is a wise queen, as you always knew she would be. She’s fair and just, always knowing what’s best for her people.

On the other hand, your brother August is Captain of the Royal Guard. He’s an excellent swordsman, who has yet to be beaten ever since he took command.

As for you, the youngest of the three, you have no idea what you’re doing.

The most likely outcome would be for you to be married off to settle some political arrangement. Unpleasant as it sounds, you would have agreed to it for the sake of the kingdom.

But the moment you said so, Chrysanth gave you a look unbecoming of a queen and immediately shut it down.

“Look,” She gestured to the view outside. “Does that seem like a kingdom who needs help to you? I work my butt off precisely so that we won’t have to depend on anyone else.”

“Besides,” She adds, “if anyone wants your hand, they should fight to the death for it.”

And so, for now, you work for your sister. Helping manage general affairs and the kingdom’s business agreements—even though she could easily hire someone else.

“I love that you insist on working,” Your brother told you once. “You could have been a socialite, but you’re here with us, serving the people.”

Of course you are. Because even though you didn’t necessarily plan it, you are proud and committed to your work. You’re happy with your own, mundane accomplishments.

Or at least that’s what you try to remember when you glance at the tall pile of documents on your desk. You’ll relish the satisfaction that will come when it’s gone.

The candle beside you burns low, flame becoming dimmer and dimmer as the hour grows late. You should probably replace that. Pulling open your drawer, your eyes scan its contents for a candle.

You’re fresh out of the tall ones that fit in the candleholder, but you have one sculpted like a cinnamon bun—a gift from August a few birthdays ago. It’s not exactly the best for illuminating your work, but something makes you strike a match and light it still.

It smells like freshly baked cinnamon rolls, you can’t help but inhale the decadent scent deeply.

The aroma triggers an embarrassing grumble from your stomach. You feel your ears burn despite the fact that no one else is around to have heard it. Perhaps a midnight snack is in order.

Unexpectedly, light seeps through the gap beneath the large wooden double doors to the kitchen. In all your years, you’ve never encountered anyone in the kitchen at two in the morning.

Normally, you wouldn’t want to disturb them. Knowing the chefs, they would likely fuss over you and put whatever they were doing on hold.

But you fear that your stomach will disagree with that, so you decide to knock and enter the kitchen anyway.

There’s only one chef inside—a tall, blond man with his back to you. You don’t think you recognize him. He must be one of the new hires.

When he hears your footsteps on the stone tiles, he turns around.

His expression, at first, is curious. But after a beat, his mouth curves into a charming grin that catches you completely off guard.

“Hello there, miss.” He nods in greeting, eyes alight with a look that no one usually dares when it comes to you.

“I’d be happy to fix up something for you if there’s anything you’re… craving.”

When you expected the chef to fuss over you, this isn’t what you meant.

Your first instinct is to look at his surroundings for alcohol. Perhaps he’s intoxicated and not in his right mind?

But the (sober) chef seems to have mistaken your silence for bashfulness, because he presses you further, “Trust me. I may be new around here, but I know my stuff.”

Unsure how to respond to his blatant (or insolent, your sister would say) behavior, you try to gently decline his offer.

“It’s alright,” You say, still uncertain about him. “I was only going to make a sandwich and be on my way.”

“Nonsense!” He insists. “If you’re hungry at this hour, it means you’ve been busy working too hard.”

He approaches the pantry, retrieving one too many things for a mere sandwich. Your concern grows when he grabs garlic, several leafy vegetables, and a lemon.

“You, my dear,” He points at you with, is that a cucumber? “—deserve a proper treat.”

You sigh, it looks like he doesn’t intend to back down. Maybe you should just let him do what he wants and see if he can back up all the talk. Pulling one of the chairs from beneath the kitchen island, you take a seat as you observe the flirtatious chef.

At least he seems to be enjoying himself. His hands work with the kind of precision that only comes from years of experience; and he smiles proudly when he sees you watching.

“I meant what I said, I’m a damn good cook.” He’s begun chopping the vegetables. “My name’s Sanji, by the way.”

The question now is whether or not you properly introduce yourself. It's difficult to deny that you enjoy his attention. The casual and relaxed manner he addresses you with is… a nice kind of different. When else are you going to experience that if you let this go?

Alright. For tonight, you're not a princess. You're someone who stumbled upon a chef—a handsome one, it dawns on you. This is a chance encounter in the palace kitchens. And, you glance over at the dressing and ingredients he prepared, why should you turn down good food?

You decide to only give him your name. It feels strange introducing yourself without your title, but you don't tell him that.

“It makes sense that your name is as captivating as you are.” Sanji's voice is smooth, easygoing as he moves around the kitchen.

Nothing about his demeanor changes. Either he really doesn't know anything about this country's royalty, or he's skillfully controlled his reaction and is hiding that he knows.

There's also a third possibility: that you look so haggard and tired that you simply do not appear royal anymore.

Subconsciously, you look at your typical office clothes… Maybe you should go on that fitting the royal stylist has been pestering you about.

On the topic of style, however, your companion has unusual attire for a chef. He’s wearing a buttoned shirt with a necktie. His black slacks match the suit jacket draped over one of the chairs.

Your attention is diverted when Sanji begins rolling up his sleeves. He juices the lemon he had sliced in half, arms flexing as he twists the fruit.

Clearing your throat, you ask him a question to distract yourself. “What are you making?”

He smiles as if he’s glad you asked. “A dish that suits a beauty like you, of course.”

Several minutes later, he presents you with a sandwich. The slices of bread are whole wheat; the layers of ingredients between them are all in varying shades of green.

“A green goddess sandwich, made with care for the goddess in front of me.” Sanji pushes the plate towards you.

It's easy to stay composed despite the flattery because your hunger makes you focus on the food. “It really does look excellent.” You compliment earnestly.

He gestures to the plate before placing his hands in his pockets. “Tastes excellent too, try it.” Shaking your head at how confident he’s being, you pick up the sandwich.

It might just be the best sandwich you’ve ever had in your life. The flavors are fresh, and you catch the hints of lemon blending with the dressing. The bread is soft, contrasting with the crunch of the cucumbers and sprouts.

You're completely surprised, and it must be obvious based on how Sanji reacts. He lets out an adorable, pleased laugh that makes you want to hear it again.

“I knew you’d like it, ma chèrie.” Sanji reaches a hand towards your face. Your heart just about stops when he brushes his thumb to wipe at the corner of your mouth. His eyes look so intense, like you'll drown in them if you stare too much.

It feels as if your face could burst into flames at any second, so you turn away to hide your flush.

As Sanji grabs you a glass of water, you ask him if he’s eaten. “I did, but it’s nice that you’re worried about me.” He answers. You almost choke on your drink.

Once you've finished your meal, you stand then grab your empty plate and glass. But Sanji mirrors you, blocking the way to the sink. Why must a chef have such broad shoulders?

He shakes his head, trying to get the dishes from you. “Can’t let you do that, love.”

“Why not?” You frown, pulling your arms back so he doesn’t reach them.

“It’s late. You shouldn’t be working any more—”

“But you’re allowed to?” You look up at him defiantly.

Sanji stares at you. You stare back. There's a few seconds of silence before you sprint the other way, running around the kitchen island to get to a different sink.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Sanji yells after you.

You’re almost there, but Sanji catches up to you easily. Before you know it, he’s blocking the way again and you curse, remembering his long legs.

“Sanji, let me do the dishes.” You plead, but he’s as stubborn as it gets.

“The knives I used need to be washed anyway, and I’m not about to let your pretty hands do that.” Sanji winks, and you give up. He pries the dishes from your hands.

Seeing your shoulders slump disappointedly, he offers you a compromise. “If you really want, you could throw the rubbish in the bin and wipe down the counters.” Okay, you can do that.

“Are you sure this is the only way I can repay you?” You ask, grabbing a washcloth to begin cleaning up.

“That’s plenty of help, my dear.” Sanji answers.

But after a moment, he seems to have gotten an idea. Your brows raise in curiosity as you question him, “What?”

“...I was just wondering,” He begins, looking at you with that flirtatious glint in his eye. “Since we had such a wonderful time tonight, would you be willing to join me again?”

“That depends,” You press your lips together to suppress the smile blooming on your lips. “Will you cook for me again?”

Sanji laughs, throwing his head back. “Darling, that’s a given.”

He gazes at you while he dries his hands. There’s a grin on his face as he asks, like he already knows your answer. He probably does. He’s probably right.

“Same time tomorrow?”

Even though you got back to your chambers at an ungodly hour in the morning, you woke up feeling the most refreshed you’ve ever been. There’s a spring in your step as you get ready for the day, and you pick clothes that are slightly more dressy than your usual attire. Sanji shouldn’t be able to notice that you dressed up for him, right?

But your sister does.

Seated at the head of the table, Chrysanth stops eating to analyze your clothes the instant you show up to the dining hall for breakfast.

You could practically hear the gears in her head turning. Avoiding her gaze, you bow to greet her before taking your seat, “Good morning.”

The queen only smiles at you knowingly, eyes still flickering over you with enraptured excitement. Very much unlike a queen, however, she kicks your shin underneath the table.

“Ow!” You yelp.

“So…” She lets the syllable drag on. “Who’s the guy?”

You focus on piling food onto your plate, choosing to ignore her. “What guy?”

“Your guy.” She says, giddy. “Is he your guy yet?”

“Hm?” Is your only response. Breakfast looks lovely. Should you ask for coffee or tea today?

Chrysanth kicks you again.

“Hey!” You rub the skin to dull the pain. “Stop that!”

“Stop avoiding the question!” She persists, waving a hand to gesture at your clothes. “You only wear that skirt when you want to impress someone.”

Mentally cursing her for knowing you too well, you continue to act nonchalant.

“Really, it’s nothing.” You try to clarify. “I just thought that it would be a nice change.”

She doesn't believe it. Not one bit of it. Thankfully though, she drops the topic. Your shoulders relax as the discussion switches to work-related ones. She’s telling you about her plans to approve a restaurant in the museum when your brother joins you for breakfast.

Once he’s seated, August takes one look at you before tilting his head. “Who’s the guy?”

Chrysanth looks far too smug and triumphant than you’d like. You bury your face in your hands. Would Sanji also tease you if he knew?

The rest of the day is uneventful, the only change to your typical work day being that you avoid your siblings like the plague. You have lunch brought to your office and skip on dinner.

Sanji had already started cooking by the time you got to the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind,” He says. Of course you don’t, whatever it is smells amazing. “I thought I’d start early so you wouldn’t have to wait too long.”

“Thank you for going through the trouble.” You say, glancing at the ingredients he had laid out: there are crushed tomatoes on the counter. Pasta simmers in a pot on the stove. You recognize the tubed shapes with ridges surrounding them.

“Rigatoni?” You ask, turning to the chef.

Sanji nods, “With a simple, creamy tomato sauce. Nothing too extravagant, but still specially made for you.”

He puts the pasta into two bowls, grating parmesan cheese on top. Your mouth waters.

“Here you are, darling.” It pleases you more than you thought it would when Sanji sits across from you to eat as well.

There’s something homey and yet luscious about the taste. He really outdid himself. “It’s delicious, Sanji.”

“I live to please.” Sanji says before standing to retrieve two wine glasses and a bottle of red. “Zweigelt.” He says as he pours for you both. “Juicy and fresh, with just the right amount of acidity.”

You almost swoon at the rasp in his voice. You never realized someone could be so attractive when talking about wine.

As he clinks his glass with yours, you think to yourself that this might be your favorite dish from him. However, true to his word, he surpasses your expectations every time.

After a few weeks, on your sixth (or is it seventh?) time meeting Sanji past midnight, you've reached the point where you're able to open up to each other beyond the pleasantries that come with the food.

He tells you about his dream of traveling the seas in search for the best ingredients the world has to offer. You admit how you sometimes feel like life is just taking you along with the current—that you’ve never had a burning, passionate dream to aspire to.

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” Sanji hums contemplatively. “There aren’t any deadlines when it comes to finding dreams.”

“I do worry that you’re working yourself to the bone, though.” He adds, and for once, his smile looks different somehow. It’s a fond, gentle smile that’s sweeter than the macarons he made for you.

“What do you mean?” You take a sip of water.

“While I'm flattered you enjoy my food so well, do you eat properly? Shouldn't the palace be treating you better?” This time, you actually choke on your drink.

Could it get more embarrassing than this? Your ears burn as you cough, trying to clear your throat and settle your heart.

“Breathe, love." Sanji, ever the gentleman, is next to you in a flash of a second. He pats your back gently and supportively. “I'm sorry if I startled you.”

“It's alright—and, I do eat,” Your voice comes out raspy. “It's just that I don't usually have an appetite for dinner.”

“But that leaves you hungry for a midnight snack?” Sanji asks, a knowing expression on his face as he refills your glass.

“Exactly.” You smile. Thankfully, your throat has calmed down. Picking up a vanilla-flavored macaron, you savor the taste that melts sweetly on your tongue. Returning to his chair across from you, Sanji watches you eat happily.

“I take pride in my desserts, but that chocolatier in Belltower street… The sweets are just—out of this world, I tell you.” He looks so excited as he talks, eyes aglow and gestures animated. “The chocolates are handmade and everything. I'm sure you've heard of it?”

“Um…” Hesitating, you certainly remember issuing a business permit for a chocolatier; but you can’t say you’ve gone there yourself.

Sanji’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Surely you’re pulling my leg. You haven’t been?”

“...”

He observes you quietly, like he's considering what to do next. There have been instances when Sanji stays quiet, doesn't eat, and only watches you chew. The times where he insists that he's content with seeing you eating well. Those were awkward at first, but you learned that was just part of spending time with him. Your reaction was a reward on its own.

But this isn't like that. Something feels oddly different in the way he seems to be gathering his composure. The silence almost worries you, but thankfully he breaks it first.

“You’ve saved me the trouble of thinking of a place to take you to.” Laughing, Sanji practically glows in elation. “You’ll love it, I promise.”

You had a peculiar sense that you would’ve loved going anywhere, as long as you were with him.

Feeling bold, you suggest, “I’m free this Saturday if that’s good for you?”

He gives you that soft, enamoured look again. Something makes you hold your breath, your fingers tingle and the entire rest of the world slows down. You’re almost certain you’re giving him the same look.

“Even if I wasn’t, love, I would have gone to you anyway.”

The next day, a Thursday, your brother unexpectedly knocks on your office door.

“Hey,” You smile. “Is something wrong?”

It’s rare for August to look for you in the middle of the day. If either of you need to speak, it’s usually you who heads into the training grounds to talk to him. The other way around occurring is curious.

“I wanted to invite you to watch the knights train this Saturday.” He says coolly. “It would boost their morale if you spoke a few words.”

The commander goes on to speak, not catching that you’ve short circuited somewhat, trying to rack your brain for a valid excuse to decline him.

“And maybe, you could pick out a personal knight like I’ve been telling you.” August prompts. “You really should—”

When he pauses, squinting his eyes at you suspiciously, you suddenly recall why you stopped trying to hide anything from him.

“You already have plans.” He says, face carefully blank.

“Yes.” Thank goodness he understood. But wait, his eyes are widening. Why is he making that face? Why is he looking at you like he just figured out—

“You have a date.” Darn it all.

August is bewildered, not knowing what to do with the information he put together. He awkwardly brushes his fingers through his hair.

“...Is he a good guy, at least?” He settles with, asking carefully in that concerned way he does when he looks out for you.

Biting your lip, you nod. “He seems to be, so far.”

“Okay.” August responds. “Does Chrysanth know?”

“It’s nothing serious.” Yet. Yet? Do you want it to be? “You’re the first I’ve told.”

A worrying thought suddenly pops in your mind. Your turn to him, distressed. “Please don’t tell her yet, August.”

“Why?” His frown deepens, like he’s about to ask more questions. Unfortunately for him, you decide you’ve had enough talking about Sanji to your brother for today.

“Aren’t you busy?” You grab his arm, guiding him out of your office. “Don’t you have training to get to?”

“I do, but—why can't Chrysanth know?” You open the door for him and try to push him out, but August plants his feet; still trying to figure you out. He doesn’t budge an inch.

But then he makes that face again. That annoying ‘aha!’ face.

“You really need to go, good luck with training! Tell the knights I said hi—” You manage to shove him out with all your strength, but at the last second before you close the door, August turns around again.

“He’s a commoner, isn’t he?” You slam the door at his face.

It doesn't matter. Sanji's status will never matter to you. Not when he's holding your hand so sweetly while he guides you through the winding streets of the city. You recognize some shops by name, knowing who owns what and when they established their business. But Sanji knows these streets, and he's more than happy to show you.

“Ah, one moment, my dear.” Sanji pulls you towards a quaint little cart overflowing with flowers. He flicks a coin to the vendor, eyes scanning all the vibrant colors and bursting petals.

Somehow, without you needing to tell him, he picks one in your favorite color. You're starting to feel like that's just part of being with Sanji—that he knows what you want, and knows what you need before you do.

The flower is soon tucked into your hair, behind your ear. His fingers linger on the side of your face—and normally, you'd break eye contact and shy away. Maybe let out a halfhearted excuse that you should continue on your way. But you don't.

You smile back at him, not bothering to hide the genuine happiness you feel. And when Sanji pulls back, you're already holding out your hand before he reaches for it. There’s something in his eyes. Something that makes you feel like you're walking on air when he tugs you along again.

As planned, Sanji takes you to the chocolatier he told you about. The building is small, tucked between larger shops in the middle of a busy street, but there’s no doubting the quality of their confections.

The elderly chef behind the counter greets Sanji like a grandson she hasn’t seen in forever. She ushers him in, enthusiastically pointing to this and that, saying she moved some furniture around as he suggested.

“It looks perfect, grand-mère.” Sanji smiles, taking in the beautiful glass display. Chocolates of every flavor cover the shelves from end to end.

Grand-mère’s eyes light up when she sees you. She casts an approving look at Sanji, “I like this one. She might even be too good for you.”

“That’s because she is.” Sanji laughs, and you pretend to browse the menu while they talk.

“No need for that, ma chèrie.” The menu is plucked from your hands. Sanji sets it aside, pointing instead to where grand-mère is behind the counter. She's wrapping up a box of chocolates that she hands to you.

“No need to pay, dear.” She smiles, patting your hand. “If he ever gives you trouble, let me know.”

Sanji whisks you away through the streets again. You've never been this far into the city before. Looking back at the path you've taken and not recognizing any of it, you know you’d be absolutely lost without Sanji by your side.

“Almost there.” He tells you, pointing to a cobbled path that inclines upwards.

What meets you at the top of the path is a small clearing. A stunning tree with blossoms on its branches stands at the center. Flowers and petals flutter away and fall onto the iron bench beneath it.

“Sanji, this is lovely...” You trail off, letting go of his hand to catch a flower into your palms. The flower twirls delicately between your fingers before you turn back to Sanji, tucking the blossom into the pocket of his suit.

Sanji takes your hand before you can pull away, bending down to press a kiss to your knuckles.

“Not nearly as lovely as you.”

The two of you spent hours under that tree, sharing chocolates and stories—feeling like this is how things are supposed to be. Not necessarily the flowers, or the chocolates, or even the sun setting beautifully in so many warm colors.

Just Sanji. With you, next to you.

All at once, it sinks in that he could be the dream you've been waiting for. But you don't tell him that.

Being enlightened on your feelings for Sanji becomes a second thought, however, when you’re swamped with work the following week.

“Don’t these people ever get tired?” Chrysanth groans, leaning back on her chair. “Why is planning a festival so hard?”

You approach her desk and place another stack of documents onto it. The numerous piles are getting concerning.

She scowls at the papers, then scowls at you. “Don’t you ever get tired?”

“Of course I do.” You tap a stack of documents to her left. “The guest list for the ball needs to be approved by tonight so we can send invitations out.” She groans again, but picks up the list anyway.

You’re unable to see Sanji as often as you’d like, but you both promised to meet once a week. Even if it’s only for a few short heartbeats together.

You dearly miss him. You think about him as you hand Chrysanth menu plans for the ball. If he saw it, he’d say that he could come up with something better.

She glances at the menu, studying it. Or at least, that’s what you thought she was doing—until her next words proved you wrong.

“So, how are you and that chef doing?”

Your heart isn’t in your chest anymore. It sank down, deep into the depths of the earth. It also must have taken all the air in the room along with it. How did she—

“August?” You blurt out.

Chrysanth shakes her head, “Zeff.” Oh no. Sanji’s boss knows? Does Sanji know that you’re—

“According to Zeff,” She proceeds, cutting off your thoughts. “One of his subordinates has been cooking a lot of personal meals over the last few weeks.”

“I can explain—” But your sister holds up a hand. Your mouth snaps shut.

She calls your name, and then you realize how serious her tone is. “Are you familiar with the kitchen’s rules when it comes to using ingredients and supplies for personal use?”

“...I’m afraid I'm not.” You didn’t know the kitchen had any such rules… but surely Sanji does. Your voice stutters, “I, did—is he in trouble?”

“He isn’t.” She answers, though her expression is still grave. “But I think that you should be aware of how much he’s doing for you.”

Chrysanth opens a drawer to retrieve a list of kitchen rules. Reading it over, everything is standard and straight to the point. You find the answer to your confusion towards the end, a small, nondescript bullet that reads:

All staff must reimburse the cost of all ingredients used for any reason outside of official duties.

“He must know who I am, then.” You say, feeling relieved that he didn’t break some sort of impossible rule. “He wouldn’t have done so much for me if he didn’t.”

Your sister purses her lips, letting the silence linger for a second before responding, “He doesn’t know, love.” She hands you another document. “He’s been paying back every cent out of pocket.”

Tracing over the timestamps and the different ingredients listed, you stare at an outline of your time with Sanji. It’s nice to reminisce, but you can’t help but wince whenever you spot something particularly pricey. What on earth are you to do with this man?

“Zeff recognized your name when he asked Sanji who he was cooking for.” Chrysanth explains. “He didn’t tell him, but he came to me and requested for Sanji to be repaid.”

“Since anything served to me counts as official duties of a royal chef.” You piece together.

“Exactly.” Chrysanth nods. “However, doing that would expose your title to him. Which is why I wanted to speak to you about this first… You should tell him.”

“I know.” Letting out a deep sigh, you agree. Sanji deserves to know more than anything. Nevertheless, the thought of him changing how he treats you—or worse, leaving—because of your status, frightens you to your core.

“I’ll talk to him tonight.” You say, but your sister’s expression slowly changes. What did she plan this time?

“Or maybe, you could put the kitchen dates on pause and tell him in a few weeks.” Surprisingly, she hands you an invitation to the ball.

“I can’t bring Sanji as my date.” No matter how much you wish you could.

“Are you sure about that?” Chrysanth is unable to contain her grin. “Open it!”

‘…you are cordially invited to the spring masquerade ball.’

You gasp, “You turned it into a masquerade?”

“Yes, I did. You won’t believe how much convincing it took for the ministers to agree.” She rolls her eyes, but then her smile returns. “Don’t waste my hard work and have fun with your man, littlest sister.”

You laugh, not expecting this outcome after all that. “I love you, even if you made me go through so much emotional turmoil for fun.” She cackles.

“Of course I had to make you sweat after what you put me through.” Chrysanth scoffs, “I can’t believe I had to hear about your love life from Zeff, of all people.”

“Ah,” She says, remembering something. “Speaking of, why’d you guess August first earlier?”

“...”

“...Did you tell him before me?” She gasps. “How could you! Give that invite back!”

“I didn’t think you’d approve.” You admit shyly. “He’s a commoner.”

“If he treats you well—which, he obviously does—I could care less about all that.” Chrysanth reaches for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Only those stuck up ministers will react negatively, I’m sure. We can deal with them easily enough.”

When she lets you go, she abruptly adds, “He better be cute though.”

That sends you laughing again. “Oh, Chrysanth, he’s the cutest!”

He certainly is. Especially when he sees you and grins, opening his arms wide in expectation. You fall into his embrace when you’re near enough.

Sanji takes your hand and places it on his arm, leading you away from the kitchens.

“Some of the others are still in there planning for the ball.” He explains. “It seems preparations are keeping us both busy.”

Sanji takes you to the greenhouse, which you’ve never seen at night before. Various patches of vegetables and shrubs line the space. There are trees and flowers towards the back too. It feels like a secret hideout, being here with Sanji.

“I miss spending more time with you, love.” He whispers.

“Me too.” Your heart melts thinking about how much he gave for you. You wish you had the courage to tell him the truth now, while he’s looking at you like you put up the stars in the sky, but you can’t. You’re not ready yet.

Reaching your hands up, you caress his face gently, brushing your thumb across his cheek. He places his hands over yours, keeping them there.

Sanji closes his eyes to savor the moment, and you let him. You two stay like that, your hands becoming enveloped in so much of Sanji you feel like you could recognize him with your eyes closed, with a single touch.

There’s a certain familiarity to him at this point. You would probably have some difficulty adjusting back to life without him in it. He’s so familiar that you could probably draw him. He makes you want to try.

“...I was just wondering,” You say with a knowing glint in your eye. Does he remember those words when he said them to you that first night? “We’ve been working hard for this ball, wouldn’t it be a shame not to enjoy it together?”

You give him the invitation, and he throws his head back laughing. You send him a confused look, but it all becomes clear when he pulls out an identical invitation from his jacket.

“Ah, how brilliant you are, mamour.” Sanji embraces you again, and you bask in how perfect it feels to tuck your head into the curve of his neck.

“It will be easy to find you even with a mask.” You murmur into his skin. He shivers. “You’re so goddamn tall it’s not fair.”

“I’m not too worried about you finding you, either.” Sanji begins to sway slowly with you still in his arms. It makes your heart skip a beat. You can’t wait to dance with him.

“Are you confident you’ll find me first, then?” You ask, adjusting your hold around his middle to snuggle in better.

“I’m not sure about being first,” He ponders. “But I’ll be sure it’s you when I find you.”

The greenhouse became your new meeting place while the palace was buzzing to prepare for the ball. You could only meet for a few minutes, but you treasured the time you shared just the same.

Once, Sanji tried to feed you one of the expensive fruits growing there, but you declined, making up an excuse that you were allergic. He had looked at you strangely, but didn’t press you further.

You couldn’t find the time to see Sanji the week of the ball at all. Your time was spent welcoming foreign dignitaries, discussing business and trade. You and your sister had a marvelous time shutting down a marriage proposal from some duke from the north.

It amazes you how much you’ve changed since meeting Sanji. Had the duke asked before you met him, you probably would have considered it seriously. Whereas now, your standard is far too high. The man you choose must be able to get to your heart by cooking you the best food in the kingdom and all the seas.

You’re glowing by the time you finish getting ready for the masquerade. The dress you chose is in your favorite color, with the skirt twirling dreamily when you turn.

Chrysanth permitted you to enter the ballroom a few minutes late to avoid a royal entrance. You use the time to compose what you want to say to Sanji when you tell him the truth.

‘I’m a princess, and I think I might love you’, is that a lot to say? You sigh, smoothing your hands over your dress.

The clock on the wall chimes. It’s been fifteen minutes since the ball officially started. You put on your mask, tying the ribbon behind your head to secure it.

After one last glance at yourself in the mirror, you head to the ballroom—looking much more collected than you actually feel.

Maybe you shouldn’t have bragged to Sanji that you would find him easily, because you don’t.

You were mistaken when you thought all you’d had to do was look for a tall, blond man with a blue mask. (Sanji’s mask is surely going to be blue. He wouldn’t consider any other color. You bet your foot on it.) It’s unnerving how many people fit that description tonight.

You even find your brother before you find Sanji. August is dressed in surprisingly simple, all black attire. He looks more like a gentleman than a commander, lacking all those sparkly medals he’s usually required to wear at events.

“Where’s your date?” August asks, ducking his head slightly so that you can hear him over the crowd. “Chrysanth bragged about setting you two up.”

“I haven’t found him yet.” You answer dispiritedly. “I thought it would be easy.”

August looks around, and you know that if he knew what Sanji looked like, he would be able to track him down in a flash. You’re about to ask what you should do when August suddenly bows, extending a hand to you.

“May I have this dance, fair lady?” He asks in a fake pretentious accent that instantly makes you laugh.

It would be nice to say yes, but you desperately want Sanji to be your first dance. August would understand.

But you aren’t able to decline, someone else beats you to it.

“I’m afraid her first dance is spoken for.” Sanji’s voice reaches your ears and suddenly the room is brighter than it was.

You almost gasp, elated that he found you. Were it not for that frown on his face, you would have voiced out your joy.

August and Sanji stare each other down. Neither of them say anything, but it’s clear that their first impressions of each other aren’t the most pleasant. Not liking the hostility you’re sensing is building, you tug at Sanji’s hand.

Your brother’s eyes soften at that, and he bows again, this time to say goodbye. “I’ll see you later then.”

You watch August go, and Sanji grumbles something you don’t catch under his breath. You'll have to properly introduce them at some point, but worrying about their relationship can wait. You really must cheer up this grump who thought he was going to miss your first dance.

“Dance with me, stranger?” Intertwining your fingers together, you smile and take in how handsome he looks. His suit is still black, but there are several accents in dark blue—the same color as his mask.

The deep navy color makes his eyes look almost crystalline, and you recognize why you love him so immensely when he smiles.

“I would be honored.”

Sanji is more graceful than you expected. His movements are controlled and precise, never moving too fast and always making sure you’re falling into step beside him.

He’s proven, once again, that he can surpass your every expectation. Sanji spins you around, catching you by your waist and grinning before sweeping you off your feet again.

By the end of it, you’re left breathless due to far too many reasons, and they all involve him.

You had tried bringing Sanji to a romantic spot; maybe a balcony, or somewhere by a fountain in the gardens—but it seems that a lot of other people had the same idea.

Everywhere was crowded, but you suppose where you ended up is romantic in its own way. With the sky being cloudless tonight, you could see every star twinkling away through the greenhouse’s glass roof.

Let the stars bear witness to you pouring out your heart to this man.

“Sanji…” You start, mentally preparing yourself.

“Yes, ma chèrie?” Sanji tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, you have his complete attention.

“There are things I must tell you.” You swallow the lump in your throat, not brave enough to look him in the eye yet; though you grip his hands tightly in yours.

Sanji waits. He doesn’t complain that you might be holding onto him too tightly, or nag at you for taking too long to put your words together.

When you finally look up to meet his eyes, you find the strength to breathe it out, “...I’m a princess.”

There’s this moment again, when you hold your breath and wait for his reaction; like when you first told him your name. Suddenly, it feels like you’re in the kitchen eating sandwiches with him again.

And, just as it did back then, his reaction surprises you.

His expression barely changes, the only difference being the barely-there furrow of his brows in concern.

“I know, love.” He says.

“What?!” You drop his hands in shock. “Since when?”

Sanji blinks. “Since the moment we met.”

“But, I—why did you pay everything back? Why didn’t you ever mention it?”

His eyes widen, “Ah, is that why you wouldn’t eat anything from me these past few weeks? I knew you couldn’t be allergic to pineberries.”

“Sanji, answer the question.” You pout, and he rubs your arms in an attempt to soothe you.

It’s Sanji’s turn to compose himself, you notice. He looks like he wants for your time together to stay lighthearted, when the thoughts in his mind are far from it.

“You didn’t want to talk about your duties, so I never asked.” Sanji shrugs, but you can see him getting nervous.

“As for reimbursing the ingredients, I suppose I was worried that… you wouldn’t think of our time together dearly if I was just another chef on your staff.”

Your heart shudders when he lets out a shaky breath. Oh Sanji.

“But that’s the truth isn’t it? I am, and yet I—” He pauses, eyes searching yours desperately. “If I didn’t pay for it, I would be admitting that a chef was all I’d ever be to you.”

You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off. “I don’t regret it. I would make the same choice if I had to.” Through the mask, you can see his resolve, but his hands shake as he holds you.

“I didn’t expect to feel this strongly about you.” Sanji continues, “You’re just so lovely, making me feel like I could take on the world for you.”

With your hands quivering the slightest bit, you pull at the ribbon behind your head. Your mask clatters to the floor. Raising your hands towards him, you push his mask up until it’s off, revealing the face of the man who has completely enamoured you; body and soul and all.

You think back to how the colors lit him up beautifully, that one sunset you shared under that blossoming tree. And now, he’s still just as beautiful, in this greenhouse under the moon and the stars.

You love him all the same as you did then and every moment before. With the weight from keeping secrets gone from your chest, you finally let yourself admit it out loud.

“I love you, Sanji.” You confess. “I’ll go with you, if you’ll take on the world.” You try to say it calmly, but tears build up in your eyes. “You mean so much to me. You’re my dream.”

Sanji inches you closer, wrapping one arm around your waist while his other hand cradles the back of your head. “I love you too. More than you could possibly imagine.”

You quip back at him while wrapping your arms around his neck, “I think I have a pretty good idea.”

Sanji leans in the same moment you do, lips meeting in a passionate kiss that sends sparks running through every inch of your being. He pulls you impossibly tighter against him, strong hands caressing your back and holding firm at your waist. Your fingers rake through his hair, touching him to make sure he’s real. He’s here. He loves you. He knew. He always knew.

That night, you realized that your favorite taste from Sanji is his lips on yours. But, once again, he won’t hear you tell him that.

…

Sanji first saw you when a ceremony was held to welcome the new palace staff.

Everyone’s attention had been on your sister, the queen. Understandably so, but his eyes always strayed back to you. You looked gorgeous, wearing a stunning dress perfect for a princess as yourself. A cape draped tastefully down your back. And your crown sparkled brightly under the sun; but try as it might, it couldn’t be as dazzling as you.

Sanji was drawn to you instantly, and he thought he would go on with his life never understanding why.

That is, until you walked into the kitchen at two in the morning to make a sandwich.

It would have been impossible for him to not recognize you. Regular office clothes or not, something was different in the way you carried yourself. It was difficult to miss.

Other people would have thought you appeared mundane. And yet, Sanji found you the most beautiful then.

Because you let yourself smile more when you don't wear your crown.

But he won’t tell you that.

tags: @songsofadelaide-archive @amitydoodlez @sweetexistentialism @writingmysanity @hotchocolattee @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kenkenmaaa @ay0nha @watercolorskyy @holymusicalmothman @appalost

author's note (yes, again)♡— sooo, what do we think about sworn knight!zoro x princess!reader ? 👀

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ratatoastwrites · 2 months ago

Text

Playing house

Spencer Reid x gn!reader

[this was specifically written with s2 bratty(suffering from withdrawal)!Spencer in mind 🧚‍♀️]

Synopsis: “has a PhD in engineering and thinks that Ikea manuals are for stupid people” boyfriend vs “isn’t really a good handyman but is determined to follow the rules” s/o get into a bit of an argument 🫢

a/n: it’s me woo! did y’all miss me? 🌝 ofc u did!! 🥰 jkjk but umm i was inspired to write this bcuz i actually got a new chair from ikea a few days ago and i almost ripped out all my hair by the time i managed to put it together ✨ i was listening to the Like a Prayer EP from deadpool & wolverine for the whole two (2) hours it took me to put it together as well lmao 🪑 also, the pic on the left of the moodboard is my own ikea manual on the exact page i messed up!! fun 🧚‍♀️ also, did u guys like that i included a synopsis this time? i hope u did ;)

cw: light angst, arguing about something that shouldn’t really be a cause of an argument, reader has one (1) violent thought but doesn’t actually mean it and also doesn’t act on it ofc, allusion to Spencer’s addiction/withdrawal, some kinda unhealthy thoughts, Spencer is a bit 🤏 of an asshole in the beginning, mostly fluffy ending, also kinda rushed ending which is my bad :( sorry

“This is stupid. And you’re doing it wrong.”

You scoffed in exasperation at your boyfriend’s complaints, but otherwise kept your focus on the task at hand.

You’ve been trying to assemble your new desk chair for the past half hour, while Spencer loomed over your hunched figure, like an unhelpful little devil on your shoulder.

“Well, why don’t you do it then?”

You mumbled under your breath, not necessarily wanting him to hear. He did anyway.

“Well, I would. If you weren’t so insistent on using the manual.”

You could quite literally hear the eye roll in his tone, and while you usually didn’t mind his bratty attitude, right now it wasn’t helping your already frustrated mood.

“Oh, right. Silly me, using the manual that tells me how to assemble this piece of- furniture.”

You had to try your hardest not to start cursing, not wanting to let this swedish nightmare of a chair get the better of you. Spencer sighed behind you, and you were secretly hoping that it was a sigh of resignation.

“I have a PhD in engineering, do you really think that I don’t know how to assemble a chair from Ikea?”

Your hopes were proven to be futile, just like every other time you found yourself not seeing eye to eye with your boyfriend. You took a deep breath, not wanting to turn this petty argument into an actual fight.

“I don’t know, Spencer. And I’m not interested in finding out. I just don’t understand what you’re trying to prove by refusing the very idea of using the manual.”

Your tone became a little sharper by the end, although it wasn’t actually aimed at him. As you read over the manual again, you realised that you messed up the last step, cursing quietly under your breath as you had to undo the last eight screws in the armrests.

“Good thing you were using the manual.”

You were seriously contemplating throwing the screwdriver at your boyfriend’s smartass head after his smug comment. However, you just slowly put it down instead, before standing up from your place on the carpet, ignoring the crackling in your knees as you turned around to face him.

“Spencer, I love you more than words could describe, but you’re seriously getting on my last nerve right now. I’m going to make myself a cup of tea, do not follow me please.”

You told him with eerie calmness, before walking out of the living room and towards the kitchen.

You tried to ignore the guilt gnawing at your stomach at how annoyed you’d gotten over something so trivial. You knew that he was going through a rough patch in his life, and you couldn’t blame him for being more annoying than usual. But you couldn’t always have the patience of a saint, and you were already quite worked up about that stupid chair.

‘I just need a few moments of peace. Then I’ll go back and pretend like everything is okay. As per usual.’

You tried telling yourself, blocking out the voices saying how unhealthy that sounded.

You went through the steps of making your tea, doing your best to silence the myriad of emotions swirling in your chest. By the time you finished your hot beverage and put your cup in the sink, all your previous frustrations were gone, replaced by only tiredness. The weight of the day weighed on your shoulders as you dragged yourself back to the living room, although the slight aching in your muscles quickly faded to the back of your mind when you took in the sight waiting for you in there.

“Wh- Spence?”

You were dumbfounded as you looked at your boyfriend, who was standing next to your -now assembled!- chair with a sheepish smile.

“I, uh, put it together for you. All according to the manual, of course.”

His tone was almost shy, and he gave you the sweetest puppy dog eyes imaginable, which never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

“But I thought the manual was stupid.”

You stepped closer to him, still feeling a little confused, but your gaze softened in fondness as you looked at him. He shuffled on his feet a little, glancing between you and the chair awkwardly.

“It is. But it doesn’t matter. According to the studies, most healthy relationships are based on compromises. I guess I just realised that I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately.”

You frowned at his words, stepping even closer to him, until you were almost toe to toe. You didn’t like it when he talked about himself like that, and he quickly understood your expression.

“You know it’s true. You’ve been nothing but patient and accepting since I… And I can’t even swallow my pride for an hour to help you put together a piece of furniture.”

He continued before you could argue, and your heart broke as he trailed off mid-sentence. You knew that it was hard for him to acknowledge what he was going through, and you really wanted to tell him that it was okay, that he didn’t do anything wrong. But you knew that those empty words of comfort wouldn’t do your relationship any good.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. But Spence, I don’t want you to think that me being there for you is a chore, or a sacrifice. I’m being patient and accepting, because I love you.“

You told him, reaching your hands out to hold his, interlocking your fingers as you smiled at him softly.

“I can’t even imagine what you’re going through. And you being a little annoying about a stupid chair doesn’t make you a bad boyfriend. Not to mention that you ended up putting it together for me.”

You nodded your head towards the aforementioned furniture next to you, squeezing his hand a bit tighter as you smiled at him fondly.

“I don’t deserve you.”

He said softly, tilting his forehead against yours.

“Negative. You deserve only good things in your life.”

You told him, before capturing his lips in a gentle kiss.

The two of you didn’t always agree, and you could both be incredibly stubborn. But at the end of the day there was nothing you wouldn’t do for your beautiful, intelligent, sweetheart of a boyfriend, no matter how much he tested your patience. And you knew that he felt the exact same way about you.

🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️🧚‍♀️

Bonus badly edited pic of Spencer in my new chair ✨

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x gn!reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #cm spencer reid #spencer reid angst #barely #spencer reid fluff #kinda #angst to fluff #maybe

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boltwrites · 3 months ago

Note

I haven’t recently thought about Hugh Jackman but this Movie has recently given me hunger™️

Reader/Logan fic hurt/comfort where Logan knew reader in his world (but reader never met Logan in their world) and tries to ignore them out of guilt but reader is persistently trying to be friends w him. Eventually Logan opens up about what happened in his world with reader…

A/N: so uh. i originally wrote this as headcanons in bullet point format but tumblr didn't like it so i had to redo some shit and uh. anyway. it's not my normal fic quality so i'm sorry for that.

in other author's note news - lmk if you want the recipe.

You smiled at Logan across the table as Wade rambled on about something or other. You didn't know him - well, other than what Wade had spouted off about him before inviting you to this make-birthday party after the first one went to shit - but you wanted to.

You didn't exactly know why you wanted that. Maybe just curiosity? Wade did say he'd be living with him for the foreseeable future, and as his neighbor, you should introduce yourself and be friendly, right?

But it was kind of more than that. He was hot. definitely, very hot. Maybe not your usual type - you weren't typically into older men. But there was just something about him. Something magnetic.

Either way, he'd definitely avoided you at that party. spent most of his time sulking in the corner, talking to Al or sometimes Colossus.

You'd walked up to him, smile on your face, and introduced yourself. He'd barely looked at you.

"Nice to meet you," he'd replied, his tone gruff and dismissive. By the way he spoke it sounded less like it was nice to meet you and more like you were inconveniencing him with your mere existence. Like he'd been dreading the idea of you coming over and introducing yourself.

"Wade says you helped stop the time ripper," you tried, willing yourself to ignore how shitty he was treating you. Wade had mentioned that this man - Logan - was a little rough around the edges. rude. A drunk, even. Maybe he just wasn't good with people in general.

"Yep," he replied, shooting you a glare over the glass of - was that pure fucking bourbon? - he was sipping out of. You tried your best not to let it get to you - but you also knew how to take a hint. He wasn't interested in talking. That shot straight to your stomach like a bullet made of embarrassment and guilt, but whatever.

It's fine. you were younger than him by a decent margin. He could probably tell just by the look in your eyes that you were interested in him as more than just a friend. He probably just wanted to shut that shit down as quickly and efficiently as possible. You weren't gonna blame him for that. You've done the same for several weird men in the past - including Wade, before he got the hint and the two of you became fast friends. You weren't necessarily interested in being his post-Vanessa rebound, and he respected that.

So, that's fine, you'd just be nice to Logan. He could be your friend, too. He was rooming with Wade and Al, after all. It would be good to make friends with him.

"Hey!" You smiled when he opened the door a few days after the party. You stood there, hands currently occupied by a tin foil-wrapped package.

"What do you want?" Logan asked, looking you up and down with more paranoia than you'd expected. You thought that maybe he was just uncomfortable with your advances, but this time, it was like he was searching for something. What, you didn't know.

"I just wanted to give you this," you replied, thrusting your gift into his hands - the smooth glass of the pie mold contrasting with the brief brush of his calloused hands. You tried not to shiver.

"It's a pie," you continued on, even as Logan stared off into the distance, at something you couldn't see. "When I saw what you were drinking at the party, I thought you might like it. It's a family recipe. Pumpkin pie with a shitload of bourbon. As a welcome to the neighborhood kind of thing."

You offered him an awkward sort of smile, a little shrug. He blinked, snapping himself out of his thousand yard stare only to glare at you like you'd just offered him a dead animal instead of a home-baked pie. Your blood briefly turned to ice as you wondered if maybe this man was actually sober and you'd mistake the iced tea in his glass as pure liquor. As if Wade ever had that sort of shit in his apartment.

"I-" he looked down at the pie, then up at you, taking a breath as if he wanted to say more, but instead shaking his head, like he was knocking some bit of cobwebs or old dust loose. "Thanks."

He nodded at you in acknowledgement, then slammed the door in your face. Great.

Wade wasn't much help either. He'd returned the pie dish and you'd wrung your hands and asked him if you'd done something that made Logan hate you. The dish was empty, but your stomach churned at the thought of the man just taking a knife and scraping the whole thing into the trash. You'd even made the crust by hand, too.

"Oh, fuck no!" Wade scoffed, shaking his head. "Are you kidding me? Listen, if there's anything I know about our not-so-furry friend, it's that he can put up with a metric fuckton of asinine shit. I mean - he's living with me! Do you know how many times he's used his little clawsies to hole-punch my organs? Like - so many!" Wade waved his arms for emphasis. "If he really hated you, he wouldn't just sulk around about it like a teenager - no! He'd hurt you! Like the kind of teenager that would shoot up their local high school!"

You rolled your eyes at Wade, but you knew that's just how he was. No filter, all idiocy. "Did he - did he at least try the pie," you asked, voice a little more hopeful than you'd meant for it to sound.

"Try it - fuck! That man has full-tilt sprinted at me on all fours and I've never seen him so animalistic. He was eating that pie like it would crawl inside his dick itself and pull out an orgasm. I swear - and may Thor strike me dead and then mourn my fried corpse - that he actually growled when I asked for a slice."

You didn't believe Wade for a second, but fuck. at least that made you feel better. You offered him your thanks and a sweet smile as you received your dish and promised to make him something "Wolvie" wouldn't hoard when you brought something over next. You promised to try your best.

Really, what you'd try your best at was winning this shy Wolverine over to your good side. You didn't want to force him to be your friend, obviously - but if you had made a bad impression, even if that impression was solely based on the fact that you were also friends with Wade - you wanted to make it right.

So you did everything you could. Baked and cooked and offered the results up whenever you could afford the extra ingredients. Made sure to snatch up any packages bound for Wade's apartment so your notorious Amazon thief didn't have the chance to. You even dog-sat that nasty looking creature Wade had adopted - she was very sweet, but you had nightmares about that tongue.

It all came to a head, one day. One day when you almost brained yourself walking up the stairs.

You'd been holding grocery bags - supplies to make your perfected mac and cheese recipe - head down as you ascended the steps. That was, until you ran into what felt like a brick wall. Or, an iron one. Your shoulder smacked whatever it was and you jolted backwards, gasping as you dropped the bag you were holding to cling to the railing-

Only to catch and grip tight at thin fabric as a firm, steel-strong arm wrapped around your waist. You finally caught your breath, lungs filling and then immediately vacating as you locked eyes with none other than Logan.

"Fuck."

Both of you said it. But you gasped, it, breathless and dreamy. Meanwhile he spat it, like he knew something like this would happen, and he'd been planning his whole day to avoid it.

As soon as you found your footing again, he threw his arm away from you like you'd burned him. Like your very existence was offensive to him, somehow. He manages to spin you around as he let go of your waist, disorient you as you sputtered, glancing after him.

The stairs were littered with groceries - blocks of cream cheese, butter, cookies for the crust - fresh fruit for the filling. A bag of sugar had exploded, its contents dusting the next landing like snow. All of this - ingredients you'd bought, with money you'd worked your ass off to afford - and the man you'd been trying to impress stepped in that puddle of sugar, granules crackling under his boot.

You damn near saw red.

"Logan!" you snapped, your voice harsh, crisp as it echoed through the stairwell. Fuck. You hated using that voice - but it made him freeze on the spot.

He turned to look at you - eyes wide, as if he was some child who'd been caught in a lie. But also - that gaze was knowing, somehow. Like he knew what you used that voice for. What it meant for him.

You sighed, tried to regain your composure. It was fine. You were fine. When you opened your eyes, you addressed him with even, annunciated words:

"Why do you hate me?"

Even as you tried your best to dull your voice of emotion, it slipped through. A waved of your throat, the hint of water in your eyes. You hated it - this man didn't hold that power over you. You just - you were used to being liked. That's all.

Logan looked at you like you'd shot him.

"What?" he asked, just as breathless as you felt. You thought you detected just a hint of hurt in that syllable.

"It-it's just-" you tried not to let yourself waver, but you stuttered as you spoke. "I've been trying to just - to be your friend, to be a good neighbor. Like I am to Wade, like we - we hang out, sometimes. But you- you're just - I feel like you've been kind of rude to me."

You sounded like a child.

Logan took a breath. A deep one, as if this were a confrontation that had been a long time coming (which it was) and that he was prepared to have a conversation he'd dreaded (which was really what got you - if he really just disliked you, why would he care enough to prepare something? What was going on?)

He turned around - gathered up all your dropped groceries - and started walking up the stairs, passing you and continuing his way to your shared floor. He'd previously been on his way out, so you didn't do much except stare at him until he was nearly half a flight ahead of you and your brain finally switched on again.

He led you to the apartment he shared with Wade, nodded as he held the door open for you. It felt strange - you hadn't been inside the apartment since the party. You'd always felt too nervous to ask Wade if he wanted to continue your usual game nights. Too intimidated by Logan.

He set the groceries on the counter, and practically sank into the couch. You perched on the chair opposite it, still not quite believing that he had let you in. That you were going to talk. He breathed in deeply, steadying himself before he spoke, eyes still glued to the floor.

"I'm not from here. 'M sure Wade told you that much," he glanced up, only to nod in your direction. You nodded back.

"My world - timeline, whatever the fuck - I killed it. Everyone I loved, everyone I cared about - they all died. Because of me."

You sat in rapt attention as his shoulders tensed, his jaw flexed. This was a lot, for him. You didn't really understand why he was telling you about it, but it was important to him. So you listened.

"Every timeline is different. At least, that's what the science says. Ones that are closer together - might have the same people show up at around the same time. Might be - people I knew. People I - cared about."

Logan glanced up, again. Caught your eyes with his and swallowed harshly.

"You're - one of them. One of the people I lost."

"Oh," you breathed, because now it all made sense. The strange looks, the curt conversations - even the thousand yard stare. You were triggering his memories of a horrible time of his life with every step you took in his direction. And you didn't even know it.

"I'm so sorry," You whispered, trying your best to quell any tears that might form sympathetically. No wonder he kept pushing you away. You were a walking PTSD trigger.

"No-" he gasped, shaking his head as he stood up, like he'd been shocked upright. "No, it's not -"

He cleared his throat, shook his head like he was trying to find the right words.

"I know I was pushing you away. And it is - hard, to see you again. But - I want to see you. I want to get to know you, again," if you didn't know any better, you'd think that there were tears forming at the corner of his eyes.

"You made the pie, you know. The pumpkin pie. I was only there for the one Thanksgiving, but I remember it. You swore you'd cooked off all the liquor, but Xavier made you promise only the adults would get a slice."

He grinned at you, then - wide, real. It was pretty, that smile. You could imagine recognizing it, in another life.

"None of the kids got any. Too good for them, anyway," he took a step towards you, and you rose from your seat, legs only a little wobbly.

"That's good," you breathed, voice as shaky as your knees. "I use vodka in the crust, too."

"I know," Logan grinned, a hand grasping yours, his smile somehow wider than before.

You wondered, as you strode forward into a crushing hug against his chest, if it felt so right in every universe.

#asks #anon #anonymous #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #also b4 someone tries to pin reader as a specific mutant bc of the line about their voice #reader is using a teacher/professor voice. that's it that's the reference #mine

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sweet1delusi0ns · 5 months ago

Text

What they call you in bed ──☆*:・ﾟ

Fem!dom!reader + suggestive/smut obviously

This is for all y’all fellow doms out there😋

Characters: Naruto🦊,sasuke🗡️,Itachi🥀, kakashi🍃, kiba🐺, shikamaru🀄️,shino🪲,neji🎋,Lee🥋,choji🍥,gaara⏳,kankuro🪆

Naruto🦊-*

He’s vocal so honestly he will call you anything you want or find attractive~

He mostly calls you ma’am though, ever since he started calling you ma’am during argument he found it very hot to call you ma’am while you dom him~

Other that that it’s mostly just your name!

He loves being ‘punished’ for being bad just so he can say things like “yes ma’am~ I’ll never d-do it again AhH~” “what are you gunna do to me ma’am?~” “no ma’am I would never disobey you~” (he would)

Sasuke🗡️-*

He’s timid but kinky when it comes to you, calls you authority like names like miss or ma’am, and sometimes just your name with a whimpering tone~

“Miss…please…I need y-you” or “y/n, can you please help m-me…” is mainly how it started. He likes your authority even though you barely use it, He’s a good listener so there is no need to use your authority

Itachi🥀-*

He wants to act like all he wants to call you is just your name, but in the moment he sometimes lets a little ‘mistress…’ out

“M-mis…y/n… don’t stop please..” “what were you going to say?~” “M…mistress…” “Mmm oh I like that~”

Other then that he’s relatively quiet other than moans n cries (cutiee)

Kakashi🍃-*

Doesn’t admit it but he loves the idea of you ‘owning’ him during private moments

Naturally he calls you master sometimes but also calls you mistress as well. Sometime puts on a necklace of some sort just so you could pull on it and call him a good boy~

“I’ve been a good boy master I promisee~” “mistressssss pleaseeee i cant wait any longerrrr!” He’s not shy necessarily, he’s more shameless than confident mostly, so he isn’t scared to get your attention by calling you names only reserved for the bedroom~

Kiba🐺-*

Also calls you mistress, he does it to tease since he is VERY confident (borderline bratty honest) and he just likes the name, but also calls your name as well

“Don’t be a brat with me Kiba I’m in no mood!” “Ooo is mistress gunna get rough if I don’t listen? Ohh no!!” He openly likes it when your rough we all know. Also such a tease sometimes he just gets on his knees in front if you And start biting your thighs and when you tell him to stop he really goes “oh but y/n~ I’m not doing anything wrong though~” then continues to nibble at you until you lose it

Shikamaru🀄️-*

Mama’s he 100% calls you mama’s. Mommy isn’t his thing mama’s is more laid back he feels. So when you start pulling his hair or overstimulating him he always praises about how hot you are

“Oh god~ your so sexy mama’s~! M-more~” or “your so hot when your pinning me down mama’s~” he finds you so attractive when you dom him so he’s gotta make it known. He’s such a sweet talker😋

Shino🪲-*

He isn’t the best with names so the main pet name he calls you is also what he calls you in bed, which if flower obviously! But just because he isn’t good with names doesn’t mean his vanilla. One of his favorite things is overstimulation but that’s for another time

“I-it’s too m-much flower p-please…” or “don’t stop!!! Please flower dont stop Ahh~”

Neji🎋-*

He doesn’t like you being rough, he’s rather you be gentle and sweet, so he calls you sweetheart! Of topic but I feel like he doesn’t cuss during sex idk why but it’s cute!

“Sweetheart ngh…please c-can you go a little harder…” even though he likes it soft he sometimes wants it a litter rougher “OH~~ Gosh~ NGHH S-SWEETHEART…”

Lee🥋-*

WORSHIPPERRRRR! He can worship you ALL DAYYY so obviously he calls you ‘beautiful goddess’ or just goddess. He’s a worshipper but is so energetic to the point he doesn’t know what to do

“My beautiful goddess can I PLEASEEEEE pleasure you!! I’ll be good this time I promise!!” “Y-your so beautiful NGHh~ g-goddess please~” he’s so hyper you literally have to tie him up just so he stays still long enough for you to do anything!

Choji🍥-*

He’s also a worshipper but different from Lee, Lee can worship all day long but Choji needs diversity, one second your ‘goddess’ the next your ‘master’ and even ‘mommy’ but rarely

Also he gets very drained easily but get regain the energy when he eats, so sometimes you have to stop just to feed him which he loves “open up baby~” “yes master~” he would gladly eat off of you while calling you “goddess”

Gaara⏳-*

Mommy issuessss, he also isn’t good with nicknames but one day ‘mommy’ slipped out while you were leaving marks all over him and it stuck

He doesn’t mind you doing literally everything but sometimes he wants to help but doesn’t know how “mommy…I don’t really know what I’m doing uhm, can you show me…?” Other then that he’s a classic softy sub!

Kankuro🪆-*

Mommy issues + brattyness! He starts off all teasing and bratty. One time he dead ass called you “dommy mommy” other then that it’s either ‘master’ or ‘mistress’

I’ve said it before he loves being a bad boy so he can get punished. Punishments are expected from you. “Ooo I’ve been a bad boy master~ please pull my hair!! Tie me up!! anything!!!” “Well your not shy huh?” “Nope I just want my dommy mommy to rough me up~” “don’t ever call me that again, seriously your slutty side is showing-” “FUCKK CALL ME THAT AGAIN MISTRESS~”

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casuallyawkardd · 1 year ago

Text

Close Encounters of the Spiderkind

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Single Mother!Reader

Summary: When reader refuses to go on a mission, Miguel decides to pay a home visit to figure out why

Warnings: SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR ATSV! fluff, slight hurt/comfort and angst if you squint hard enough, Miguel is a softie around kids, it’s giving slow burn/platonic vibes, not fluent in Spanish so feel free to correct my wording/punctuation

A/N: This is kind of my way of dipping my toes back into the world of fanfiction writing, if ya’ll end up liking it I was planning on making it a little series of sorts. Not necessarily a multipart story, rather just little moments following the same general characters. I took the liberty of assigning a gender and name to the reader’s daughter since that sounded like it’d be easier in terms of writing, the rest is still like any Y/N story. Reader is also a spider person, but I’m not married to the idea for future oneshots? Drabbles? I don’t know what you kids call them nowadays...

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

It had only been a couple months since you had joined Spider-Society and, while you were still trying to find your footing, things were going a lot better than expected. There was a comradery with being around other people with the same abilities, who had experienced the same losses, victories and all that came with wearing the mask. You had found some good friends among the other Spiders, particularly with Peter B and Jess, as there was a common ground there that you had yet to share with them; something that the three of you had in common.

That commonality was currently asleep in the other room, your daughter Vada. For once, it had been a day where the radios were quiet. No calls from HQ to go on missions, no worrying chatter on the police radios, so you had taken the day to spend time with your daughter. The three year old was going through a phase where she was having nightmares almost every night, so the day was spent at home relaxing. From watching movies, to cooking meals together, Vada had been your little shadow all day and you had enjoyed every second of it. While your toddler had tuckered herself out, you were restless, curled up on the couch watching TV at a low enough volume that only you could hear, thanks to your heightened senses. It may have been almost midnight, but that was still considered an early night for you. Used to the regime of patrolling until early in the morning and crawling into bed to get a few hours asleep before Vada came in to ask for her breakfast. Just as you were starting to feel the pull of sleep on your eyelids, letting the quiet calm sink into your bones, the moment was then yanked from you. When the beeping started the first time, you had acted on instinct to silence the noise. Your hand practically slapped the Gizmo on your wrist, the same Gizmo given to you by Miguel when you had joined his Spider-Society. Ugh, Miguel. It was a damn shame that such a pretty face was wasted on a sourpuss like him. While being the leader of an elite group of Spider-People sounded like no easy task, there were times the man definitely took it too seriously. Sure, he had a great work ethic and was a respectable leader, but that all came with the downside that you couldn’t stand being around him for more than five minutes. You two hadn’t gotten off on the right foot and it seemed like he wouldn’t let you live that down. Ever the stern, cold-hearted leader, barking orders and chewing your ass out if something went wrong. He hardly ever smiled and when he did it was condescending, almost smug as he questioned just how intelligent you actually were. A waste of a pretty face indeed.

That pretty face came to mind when you looked down at your Gizmo, which was beeping once more, finally processing that it was Miguel who was trying to contact you. Shit.

“Hello?” your voice is quiet, wary as you answer him finally; trying to keep quiet for the toddler sleeping in the other room. Also because of the worry that you’ve pissed him off once again.

“Why aren’t you answering?” his voice cuts through the silence, monotone and firm. “An anomaly was detected on Earth-616, go take care of it. Ben Reilly and Peter Parker from Earth-13122 are already en route.”

“I....can’t,” you cringe as the word leaves your mouth. The pregnant pause that follows feels like an eternity.

“What do you mean you ‘can’t’?” He spits the word back at you, like you offended him with just the one syllable. More silence follows, Miguel waiting for your answer and you not knowing what to say. “...Is something wrong?”

“I have to go,” you end the call, not even registering the concern that had slid its way into his tone. With a heavy sigh, you lay your head against the back of the couch, regretting how you handled the situation, but thankful it was dealt with. That is until the familiar sound of a portal opening and closing disturbs your precious quiet once more.

It makes you almost jump out of your skin, physically lurching off the couch, the warm hues from the light of the portal filling your living room and disappearing as quickly as they came. In their place is Miguel, clad in his spidersuit from head to toe. A wave of emotions goes through you, the look of shock, confusion and anger crossing your face in less than a second. He doesn’t seem to have noticed you yet, glancing around the space and disengaging his mask when he doesn’t register any immediate threats.

“What are you doing here!?” it takes all you have not to shout the words at him, instead resorting to a sort of hiss to keep your voice down. Miguel doesn’t seem to take the hint.

“This is why you couldn’t come? Because you’re too busy lounging around and watching trash TV?” he isn’t shouting per se, rather his tone makes him sound louder. That and the quiet of your apartment probably amplified his voice even more. “I know the weight of keeping the multiverse intact might go over your head, but the least you could do is be there for your teammates. I don’t allow slackers in my-” “Shh!” you’re moving towards him without even realizing, motherly instinct telling you to silence the noise that dared try to wake your daughter. Your hand reaches to cover his loud mouth and Miguel takes a step back to avoid your touch, the frustration reflecting in his eyes turning into red, hot anger.

“Did you just ‘shh’ me!?” he sounds as if he’s in disbelief, his voice now actually rising in volume. You stumble over your words, trying to apologize and explain yourself all at once. Now it’s his turn to step towards you, his imposing frame towering over you and you can’t help but shrink back, “I don’t know who you think you are, but if you don’t get your ass in your suit, I’ll-”

“Mama?” Vada’s little voice cuts through the air, both Miguel and you freezing. When you turn to look at your daughter, who’s standing in the doorway to her bedroom, it feels like everything around you fades away. The static of the TV, Miguel, everything until all you can focus on is Vada. She’s clearly distressed, as you come to kneel in front of her you can see the tears in her big round eyes, the redness around them and on her nose, the slight tremble in her bottom lip. You know what’s wrong before she even has to explain.

“Sweet girl, another one?” you ask calmly, a hand going to stroke her hair. Vada nods, confirming your suspicion that she had been roused by yet another nightmare. The creak of the floorboards alerts you of Miguel taking a step closer and you’re suddenly very much aware of his presence once again. However, your eyes don’t leave Vada’s crying face. “Let’s get you back into bed,” you try to coax her into heading back the way she came, your toddler only resisting and shaking her head firmly.

“I want Mama’s bed,” she demands, sounding groggy as the sleep she had just risen from had yet to fully leave her. Vada doesn’t even let you respond before her tiny arms wrap around your neck, face pressing into the junction of your neck and shoulder, “Want you,” she mutters against you, the exhaustion and distress in her voice making your heart ache for her. “Vada,” you sigh heavily, exhausted as well. Exhausted from the heavy workload of being Spider-Woman not just for your universe, but other universes as well. Exhausted from the fact your child couldn’t get a wink of sleep and seeing her frustrated made you frustrated as well. You cave, scooping your daughter up in your arms and standing. Her body molds to yours, relaxing against your frame like it had done so many times before. As you rub her back and kiss her temple, you’re forced to turn and deal with the elephant in the room. Or rather the spider.

You expect Miguel to look annoyed, as usual, but he isn’t. In fact, the anger he was prepared to unleash on you moments ago seems to have vanished, replaced with a look of curiosity, intrigue and dare you say....awe? He’s looking at Vada, who’s about to pass out in your arms, with a softened expression, the sight of the small girl seeming to tug the corners of his mouth up just slightly.

Huh.

Miguel seems to catch himself staring, shaking his head to clear the fog and meeting your gaze once more. “I...didn’t know,” is all he can say, not as confident in the way he stands.

“No one knows,” you reply in a much harsher tone than you intended. After a deep breath, you adjust how you speak, “I’ve only been on the team for a couple months. It’s not that I don’t trust the other spiders...I just want to be careful, yah know?” Miguel nods along with what you say and you can’t help but keep talking to fill the now awkward silence, “Usually I have someone to watch her, but it’s been so long since I’ve had a day to just give her all my attention- I promise, it won’t happen again. I know that I should answer if you call-”

“Cállate,” Miguel cuts you off and you’re almost grateful he’s saved you from rambling. There’s another moment of silence before he sighs, “You don’t have to explain yourself, really. If I had known,” he waves a hand to indicate to your daughter, “this was the reason you were ignoring my calls, I wouldn’t have been so hard on you. Your daughter comes first, I get it.”

His words hit harder than they should. Every Spider-Person had heard the story. How Miguel was willing to put his own duties aside to live in a universe where he had a daughter of his own. Replacing the him of that universe, who had died tragically, to live the life he had always wanted; only to have that universe crumble around him. Literally. It explained his cold demeanor, you’d probably be a bitch too if your daughter died in your arms, but that coldness you had become accustomed to seemed to melt away the longer he took in the sight of you holding your daughter.

“You said her name’s Vada?” he asks, stepping a little closer. Normally, you would probably keep your distance from him, maternal instincts in overdrive with an imposing figure like Miguel so close to Vada, but you stay in place. Not bothered by his presence for once. He’s looking at you, expecting an answer, and you nod your head. He hums, “How old?”

“Three,” you answer and he hums again. “...Is everything okay? Regarding the mission?”

“Huh? Oh,” he clears his throat, adjusting his stance and taking a small step back. When had he gotten so close to you? “I think those two should be fine on their own. Earth-13122′s Spider-Man knows what he’s doing and-”

“You know, you can just call him Lego Spider-Man. Everyone calls him Lego Spider-Man.”

“That’s not his correct title.”

“Uh-huh,” you smile, holding back a laugh at how serious Miguel seemed to be about the subject. “...Well, I think it’s time we go to bed.”

“Right, right,” Miguel moves like he’s about to walk out the front door, seeming to forget that he had come via portal and catching himself as his hand grasps the handle. Has he always been this socially awkward? He turns to look at you again, “Should I just...?”

“Yes, please open your noisy portal outside.”

“Claro que sí,” he nods in understanding, opening the door. Just as he’s about to leave, he pauses again, turning to look back at you, “Even if you’re busy, you should still answer when I call. I was worried about you.”

“Worried about me?” you repeat, a bit of teasing in your voice.

“Worried as in the normal amount of worried.”

“Sure, sure, O’Hara.”

“I’m leaving now,” he huffs, turning to leave again. Yet he can’t help but stop one more time, “Goodnight.”

He finally leaves, door shutting with a soft click. You go to the door to lock it, carrying Vada into your room for bed. It seems that she had managed to fall back asleep despite your little interaction with Miguel. As you lay down and pull the comforter over the two of you, Vada snuggling impossibly close to you once more, you lie there thinking about what had just transpired.

Maybe his pretty face wasn’t a waste.

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#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara headcannons #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #close encounters of the spiderkind #miguel o'hara x single mother!reader

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