#but he's also just Big so i feel like people would knock it off just seeing him

[band--psycho]

Rafayel x Reader - Change Of Plans

Part three of my 'They find out you got hurt on a mission' series. This will include Zayne, Sylus, Xavier and Rafayel! I'll be posting the other stories over the next few days, please let me know if you want to be tagged in any of them!

This is also my first Rafayel story so please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!

Thank you all for the continued support! I hope you all enjoy this! 💛

Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over (thank you to everyone who's requested a story so far, I'm working my way through them!)

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms!

L&DS Masterlist / Rafayel Masterlist / Join My Taglist

Warnings: Hospitals, discharging ones self from hospital, mentions of pain medication, mentions of injuries

You knew discharging yourself from the hospital wasn’t the most logical thing to do, especially when the nurses were so insistent on you staying there for observation. 

But you weren’t exactly a big fan of hospitals and you weren’t dying, you just had a slightly nasty cut on your side, one that the nurses had already stitched and bandaged up. 

So as long as you were careful, you saw no reason why you couldn’t leave, which is why you were getting a taxi to Rafayels place. 

Perhaps you would’ve stayed, had it been any other day. 

But today, you couldn’t. 

Today, you had a job to do. 

Rafayel was going to a gallery opening tonight, and as his bodyguard, it was your job to be there and ensure nothing happened to him. 

You were well aware that Rafayel could handle himself well enough, but nevertheless, protecting him was still your job…and you knew you’d never forgive yourself if something happened to him and you weren’t there to stop it. 

People at events like this could get nasty, jealous of the success Rafayel had as an artist; you’d seen your fair share of angry competitors attempting to confront him; not that they ever really got very far. 

You were always there to stop them from getting to him. 

90% of the time, people would just walk away, muttering curse words under their breath; then there was then the other 10% that thought it would be easy to take you down, of course you proved them wrong every single time, much to the delight of your boss.  

You sucked in a small, sharp breath as you carefully exited the taxi, making sure not to pull any of your stitches. 

Part of you was regretting not taking any pain medication before you left the hospital, because now that the adrenaline had worn off, the pain of your injury was beginning to set in. 

Another small wince fell from your lips as you knocked on Rafayels door; waiting patiently on the doorstep to be let in either by him or Thomas.

You heard footsteps walking down the hallway before the door opened to reveal your boss standing in the doorway. 

“There you are,” 

You could hear the relief in his voice as he looked at you with a small smile.

“Normally you’re the one chasing me to be on time,” he joked lightly; and you smiled back at him, knowing it was true. 

You’d lost track of the amount of times Rafayel was the one who ran late to these events; quite often you had to lure him away from his sketchbook with the promise that if he was bored in the first half an hour then you two could leave. 

“I’m sorry, my mission ran over a little,” 

You could feel Rayafels eyes on you, his expression remained neutral but you could see in his eyes that he didn’t believe your reason for nearly being late.  

But he didn’t push the matter any further, which you were grateful for. 

You knew that if he knew that you were injured, he wouldn’t go to the event tonight at all. 

That was even more of a reason why you just needed to focus on the task at hand; and hope that that would distract you from the pain you were in. 

He invited you inside; and the two of you were discussing the exit routes from the gallery as well as some of his competitors who were bound to make an appearance tonight; that was until you both heard a car pull up outside. 

It was Thomas. 

You slowly rose to your feet, assuming that you were both going to be leaving to go to the gallery, but instead, Rafayel put his hand on your shoulder, gently pushing you back down to the seat you’d been sitting in. 

“Stay here,” he said softly, vanishing behind the door and heading outside; you saw him talking to Thomas through the window, you didn’t know what Rafayel had said to Thomas, but you could tell that whatever it was, Thomas wasn’t that pleased about it.

When Rafayel came back into the room you were in, he had a beaming smile on his face as he flopped down into  the chair opposite you, “So, what do you want to do tonight?” 

“We’re going to the gallery opening?”  

The confusion in your voice was palpable; not even five minutes ago you were discussing the necessary safety precautions to take at tonight's events, now you weren’t going atl all?

You were used to Rafael changing his mind about going to events like this, but it just never normally happened this quickly.

“No we’re not,” he answered simply, picking up a nearby pencil and twirling it between his fingers, “I don’t feel like going anymore?”

“Why?” You questioned, mentally preparing yourself to have to persuade him to go. 

“They happen quite often, I’m sure I won’t miss anything,” he nonchalantly answered; before his enchanting pinkish-purple eyes met yours, “Besides, I think you could use some rest,miss Hunter” 

“I’m fine, Raf,” you countered back, a little too quickly, an action that wasn’t missed by Rafael

“Is that so? He asked quizzically, narrowing his eyes slightly,before putting the pencil on the table in front of him before taking a few steps towards you,his eyes never leaving yours.“Then why were you wincing earlier,”

You could have stuck with what you’d originally said; that your mission had simply taken longer than planned, but you knew Rafayel would see straight through your white lie as he already had. 

You hated having to tell people that you’d been injured during a mission, you were a hunter, you were trained to avoid getting hurt; so when situations like this happened, it made you feel slightly humiliated. 

And now you were going to have to tell the person who hired you to be his own personal bodyguard, that you got hurt during a mission and ended up in hospital.

“What happened?” 

You noticed a slight change in the colour of  his eyes; it wasn’t the first time you’d seen it happen, though it only ever seemed to happen when he was worried about something. 

And right now, that something was you. 

He was worried about you. 

“I…I got hurt on my mission,” you mumbled your admission almost so quietly you weren’t sure if Rafayel had even heard it. 

“Why aren’t you at the hospital?” he asked, placing his hand on top of yours gently, running his thumb just under one of the cuts on the back of your hand. 

“I was,” you admitted, “But I discharged myself.” 

“Because of the gallery opening?” 

You nodded simply to his question. 

“Your commitment to your job is admirable, cutie, even if a little foolish,” he praised, moving his other hand to the side of your face, cupping your cheek delicately as though you were going to break if he held too harshly. 

“You should’ve told me,” he whispered, “I would’ve come and kept you company.” 

You couldn’t deny how his words, along with his actions, made you feel…

A feeling that you’d been trying to push away for the past few months.

“Raf, that’s sweet, but we both know you have better things to do with your time than sit with me in the hospital,” you stated matter of factly; making a small chuckle fall from your bosses lips. 

“Spending time with you is one of the best ways I could possibly spend my time,” he cooed, leaning his head down slightly before pressing a soft kiss on your cheek. 

“Raf-” you breathed, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks as you savored the closeness of him. 

“Get some rest, cutie,” he quietly said, before grabbing the blanket that was behind the chair and placing it over you, “I’ll wake you up in a little while when our food is here.” 

You could’ve argued with him; but arguing would’ve been useless; and in all honesty, you were exhausted, so you complied with what your boss was telling you to do; you got yourself settled in the chair and slowly let your exhaustion take over. 

Rafayel watched you for a little while; until he was certain that you were asleep.

He knew that you were fine. 

But that didn’t stop him from worrying about you. 

When he saw you wince as you got out of the taxi, he felt his heart ache, he knew that something had happened, that was why he told Thomas that he wasn’t going to Gallery Opening tonight, he didn't want to put you at risk of getting hurt anymore than you already had.

He wanted to keep you safe. 

And he was going to ensure that that happened; that you were safe, no matter what.

Tagglist:

@xacatalepsyx @stiltdeer-snootnoodle @deathkat657 @book-dragon03 @fangirlsfandomsss @evilldentists @hao-ming-8 @worm-in-a-bug @babygirl-panda19 @tasha-1994 @popcorn-mochi01 @cheesemachine44 @thegalaxysedge22 @chubby-bun-bun @whimsiecat @callme-amaya

[mvnces]

I've said it before but I 100% believe that sobieski has gotten into some kind of trouble with the law before. he's a good boy, of course, but he's also not above making people find out when they try to fuck around <3

[little-writers-posts]

Keeping You Warm (The Milkman x F!Reader)

Author's Note: It's been a long (LONG) time since I wrote smut, so please excuse anything, plus English is not my native language so I apologise for any mistakes. But I do hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: MINORS DNI 18+ Smut. However, it's quite light/soft, so to speak. The reader has a female genitalia.

Word Count: 1.957

“Double shift again, Francis?” I asked over the phone.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” I heard Francis’ tired voice say in almost a whisper.

“Is there really no other person who could take the shift? It’s the third time this week, Francis. You’re killing yourself.” I sighed as I rested my head on my hand.

“Not really; everyone has been quitting lately because of the rise in the number of the doppelgangers' sights.” I heard the sound of glass bottles clattering in the background.

“Just… Don’t push yourself too hard, okay? You’re already tired and worn out. I understand that there’s a job that needs to be done, but you’re human.”

“I know. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself. Don’t wait up for me, okay? Get your rest. You need it more than I do. Bye.”

“Bye.” I hung up the phone, lowered my head, and laid it on the table.

It has been nearly two weeks since I last saw Francis, which is foolish since we live in the same apartment. However, due to our jobs and taking shifts, our schedules haven't been exactly the same. It’s actually gotten worse because he’s been taking double shifts to cover the lack of people, and now he has to deliver the milk and stay an extra shift preparing all the packs for the next day, which means not only collecting the empty bottles but also refilling them and sorting them out in the boxes. We only see each other when the other one is asleep since I start my shifts early, and he only gets home quite late.

As I was lost in thought, someone knocked on the window. Steven was waving his papers to get into the building.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, proceeding with my work.

Eventually, my shift ended, and I went to my and Francis’ apartment. While setting down my things, I checked my schedule for the next day, and a big smile spread across my face. It was a day off. I decided to wait up for Francis, so for the next few hours, I occupied myself with getting dinner ready and tidying up the house. When I ran out of things to do, I sat in the living room watching one of my favorite shows.

It was past midnight when I heard the keys to the front door. Francis walked in looking as tired as ever, sighing as he locked the door, the tension leaving his shoulders at being home becoming visible.

“Welcome home, love,” I said, getting up from the couch.

“I told you not to wait up, (Y/N),” Francis whispered as he wrapped his arms around my waist, holding me tight.

“I’m not working tomorrow, so I thought I would wait for you,” I whispered back. I held his face in my hands, and he looked exhausted. “Do you want to go to bed? We could cuddle a little before sleep.”

“I would like that,” he smiled.

He followed me into the bedroom and started to get changed. I got in bed while waiting for him.

Soon, I felt his arms around my waist and his lips pressed against my neck. I turned off the lights and faced him. I put my palm on his cheek and caressed it with my thumb. I heard him sigh and move his head closer and I held it between my hands. His lips met mine in a soft and slow kiss.

“I missed you” Francis’s embrace tightened.

“I missed you too, my love” I smiled.

We kissed again, our lips moving slowly, just appreciating each other’s presence. His hand moved from my waist to my hip and down to my butt, giving it a light squeeze. I gasped slightly, and Francis took the opportunity to slide his tongue inside my mouth. What was just a lingering kiss turned into something more pressing. The warmth and softness of our lips, the wet touch of tongues, and the subtle taste of each other only added to my incoming arousal.

Unconsciously, I pushed my hips against his during the kiss, feeling his semi-hard dick. Francis moaned into the kiss. With his hand under my neck, he grabbed a fist full of my hair at the back of my head, squeezing tight and deepening the kiss. His other hand moved back to my waist, slipping under my shirt, caressing my skin, leaving goosebumps all over me.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, breaking the kiss and leaving both of us panting.

Francis rested his forehead on mine, and his hands continued rubbing the skin of my waist and neck.

“I thought you were tired,” I smiled.

“I am, but I want you,” he said hoarsely.

At the same time, his leg slipped between mine, pulling me closer by the waist. I could feel his need pressing against my intimate parts. I squeezed his leg between mine, rubbing my heat trying to ease my aching, but I knew he was exhausted, so I took the lead.

“What if I keep you warm?” I asked.

I spit a bit into my hand and reached for his pants, slipping under the waistband and into his underwear. I took his dick and started slowly moving, feeling him twitch. Francis groaned, and I felt his breath at the top of my head; he hugged me tighter and started to slowly, rocking his hips against my hand. I felt a chill down my spine; my core throbbed, and I felt it was getting wetter.

“Prep me up?” I mumbled.

Francis hummed, agreeing. His hand went from my waist to my heat, massaging my skin lightly along the way, and he pressed one finger to my entrance. I moaned quietly, continuing to pump him. He started to spread my juices around my lips and then pushed one finger inside. I moved my hips along with his finger, Francis kept his movements slow, and with each thrust, he touched a new spot inside me. Soon, he added a second finger, making me moan again and grind my hips in his hand.

“And I thought I was in need,” Francis chuckled.

“Francis…” I whimpered.

He pressed his thumb into my clit and began his scissors movements inside me, also curling his fingers to reach that sweet spot and stroke it, making me roll my eyes and breath heavily. I lifted my head, looking once again for his lips, and captured them in a hungrily open-mouth kiss, our tongues stroking each other rapidly and messy, with spit starting to drip.

I felt my walls pulsing around his fingers and that tickling sensation in my lower belly rushing me to grind faster. But I forced myself to stop. I pulled my hand away from his throbbing dick and grabbed his wrist, moving him away from me. I pushed Francis by the shoulder, laying his back on the mattress, and undressed myself. I lifted my leg and sat across Francis's lap, pulling his clothes down, freeing his dick, making him groan.

I kissed his tip and licked his entire length, from bottom to top, taking him to my mouth next. I took him until his tip reached the back of my throat and pumped the rest with my hand. I bobbed my head, sucking him and pressing my tongue against his flesh. Francis gave a husky groan and thrust his hips, hands tangling my hair.

When his dick was all wet, I raised myself and aligned my entrance with his tip. I slowly sink into him, feeling him twitch, relinquishing the feeling of his dick filling me up until he was all of him was inside me.

I set my hands on his stomach, getting used to the sensation of having him inside. Francis released a strangled breath, his hands resting on my thighs, caressing them with his thumbs.

When I was about to move, Francis took a strand of my hair and nestled it behind my ear, pulling me towards him by the back of my neck right after. He kissed me again, lips moving rapidly, only pulling away when we needed air.

The sudden movement had me squeezing his dick and he grinded his hips against me.

“Fucking tight,” Francis whispered.

I began rocking my hips, Francis matched my pace by grinding into me. Grunts and pants echoed in the bedroom; my hands were back on his stomach for balance, his hands pressed firmly on my waist to guide my movements and leave bruises. Each thrust felt heavenly, his dick sliding in and out, hitting the right spots every time, making me whimper and my legs shake.

The familiar tickling feeling in my lower belly came back, and my movements became erratic, faster, and sloppier, chasing that rush.

“I’m cuming,” I begged.

“Wait for me,” Francis urged.

He grabbed my leg and pushed my back onto the mattress. Settled between my legs, Francis resumed his movements, thrusting deep and fast. The change in position made me whine and squeeze him even tighter; it was bliss, the feeling of his weight on me, his grinding, and his dick rubbing every part inside me and hitting just the right spot.

“Francis, please” I begged again.

“Almost there” he grunted.

I tried my best to delay my incoming orgasm, focusing on Francis, on his short breaths, his muscles stiffening beneath my fingers, his raspy moans in my ear, just everything about him, taking my mind away from the pleasure he was giving me.

I tightened my legs around his body and my nails scratched his back, I was so close.

“Cum with me,” Francis pleaded.

I focused back on the sensation in my lower area. Francis sped up his pace, with chaotic and messy movements, as he began to shake. I felt the buildup of tension that made my back arch and my toes curl, like a clenching feeling. As soon as I thought that I couldn’t take it anymore, I sensed all that tension being released and pulsing throughout my body, an all-consuming release and euphoria. I moaned loudly against Francis's skin.

At the same time, Francis tensed up gave his final deep thrust and his dick throbbed inside me, releasing all of his seed, filling me up.

Francis kissed my lips tenderly, again, again and again, holding my face while supporting the weight of his body on one arm.

“I love you” he whispered between kisses.

“I love you too” I giggled, kissing him back.

He lay next to me, pulling me onto his chest. We stayed like that for a while, still panting and recovering.

“I’ll get you some water and a towel,” he said kissing my temple.

“No, it's okay I’ll get it” I pushed him down and got up. “I have to use the bathroom anyway. Do you need anything?”

“Just some water, please”.

I went to the bathroom, cleaned myself and then got a glass of water from the kitchen. When I came back to the bedroom, Francis’s breathing was deep and slow, suggesting that he was already asleep. I smiled and placed the water on his nightstand, I gave a small peck on his lips and laid down in bed, feeling my muscles relaxing after so much tension and pleasure.

The fact that our lives are regularly in danger because of the doppelgangers leaves everyone on edge, meaning that our time together safe at home is a blessing and a getaway from everything on the outside. Losing ourselves in each other is not only a reminder of being alive but also a reassurance that the other person we love so much is still by our side.

Thinking about all the things we do for each other, and while caressing softly Francis's face, I also fell asleep.

[lesservillain]

baby daddy!eddie x mom!reader

cw: smut, non established relationship, best friend!eddie as well, idiots in love

wc: 3.8k

Closing the door as gently as he could, Eddie tip toed down the hall of the trailer and rounded into the kitchen to get himself a beer. He’d played hard enough with Autumn that she could barely keep her eyes open through her bath, but that also meant he wore himself out in the process. So after cracking open a can, he plops his ass down and turns on the TV, ready to chill until he passes out on the couch.

Well, that was the plan. Just as he got comfortable, there was a small knock on the trailer door. With a frustrated sigh, Eddie jumps back up, mumbling something about people coming to his house so late at night.

“Listen, I’ve told you all I don’t fucking deal anymore—Woah!”

Instead of some annoying kids looking for weed, Eddie was met with your sniffling nose and tear stained cheeks. He immediately went into best friend mode, wrapping you in a big hug and letting you get those emotions out.

After some crying and a soaked shoulder later, you finally peel yourself away from Eddie and attempted to talk, but only babbling came out.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Eddie says, thumbs rubbing the tops of your shoulders. “Just calm down and tell me what happened? Did someone hurt you?”

You shook your head, doing your best to compose yourself.

“He-he-he g-got mar-married,” you hiccup out.

Eddie blinks at you. He knows exactly what you were talking about. Dustin told him back when that Harrington met a girl about 6 months ago and apparently they hit it off right away. The last thing he wanted to do was tell you about her considering your long time pining for him Especially considering he’s the reason Harrington would never ask you out. But you ended up finding out on your own, and devastated couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt.

It seemed soon in Eddie’s opinion, granted he would marry you tomorrow if you would say yes. When Dustin told him that he was going to be the best man that the wedding, Eddie had mixed feelings. He knew that it would kill you when you found out. That you’d react exactly as you were now.

Actually, you’re doing a little better than he anticipated.

“He came into the store and,” you blew your nose into the toilet paper he grabbed for you, “and I saw the ring on his finger when he was getting his money out of his wallet.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” Eddie says, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close.

“They haven’t even known each other that long! He’s such an idiot…”

“I’ve been trying to tell you that,” Eddie jokes, rolling his eyes.

“Oh god, what if--do you think it’s because she’s pregnant?”

Eddie’s pretty sure Dustin would have told him if that was the reason why, but it’s not an unreasonable guess.

“I don’t know, could be? Or maybe Steve Harrington is just an idiot like you said. And maybe they’ll be divorced by this time next year. Who knows, right?”

You sighed, leaning into Eddie and resting your head against him. “I don’t even know why I’m so upset. He was never going to ask me out anyway. No one wants a young single mom. Steve has his whole life to do what he wants, why would he be with someone who has so much baggage?”

“Hey, don’t say that about Audy,” Eddie scolds.

“No, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant,” you correct, “I was talking about myself. I’d never be with someone who didn’t accept Autumn. Even Steve Harrington. I just…I’m damaged goods, Eddie.”

Eddie could feel himself getting upset but didn’t want to make things worse right now, so he took a few breathes to steady himself. He said your name sternly, pulling your full attention to him.

“I don’t like it when you say things like that. It makes me feel like it’s my fault--”

“Eddie,” you stop him before he can get another word out, “You know that you didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve told you before that if I was going to get pregnant right out of high school with anyone that I wouldn’t want it to be with anyone else but you.”

Eddie knows this, and he feels the same. But it’s not what he wants.

Even though it was all a total accident, he hoped that night the two of you spent together was going to be the next step for both of you. And even though he was scared after you told him with tears in your eyes then that he had gotten you pregnant, he wished with all his might that it would bring the two of you closer together.

Which it did in a way. Obviously the two of you would be bound together for the rest of your lives, but it wasn’t in the way he wanted. You still were head over heels for Steve, and there was no way Eddie could even compare to the king.

“Yeah…I know.” He says somberly. Your brows pinch, making him worried he should have said something else.

Then your expression changed. You looked at him intensely for a moment, before your eyes became lidded and…were you leaning in?

Eddie thought fast, making a quick decision to put his hand over your mouth, stopping you in your tracks. Your eyes go wide as dinner plates, tears perching on your waterline as what hot embarrassment washes over you.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, suddenly regretting everything. This could have been his chance and he was an idiot.

You pull his hand from his mouth, sitting in silence for a moment before you begin to laugh. It catches Eddie off guard and he freezes.

“Eddie, I should be the one apologizing,” you say with giggles. “I’m the one who was stupid enough to try and kiss her best friend for a second time. We both know what happened the first time and the last thing we need is history to repeat itself.”

Eddie still felt conflicted. Your tone wasn’t sitting right with him, like there was some level of self depreciation in your words.

After a moment you stop laughing. Your face warps into worry as you stand from the couch.

“I-I need to go—“

“No, wait!” Eddie stands to grab your wrist before you could run away. He pulls you into him and hugs you tightly to him. You stand still before slowly wrapping your arms around him, gripping his shirt in your hands.

“Listen, I know you’re going through a lot emotionally right now, but…I’m here for whatever you need. Even if…” He trails off for a moment, knowing that he’s just going to hurt himself if he lets you use him. But he can’t turn you away when you need him. He’d rather you take advantage of his feelings than run off to someone else who would hook up with you without second thought.

“Even if it means crossing a boundary that we’ve already crossed before.”

Eddie feels you press into him harder, face buried in his chest. And when you look up at him, Eddie thinks he could melt into a puddle and let you mold him to however you’d like.

“I don’t think I should make any rash decisions right now,” you say with a sniffle. “I think I just need to clear my head. Let myself rot in my own misery instead of dumping it all on you.”

“Or,” Eddie says with a smile, “you could rot with me. I rented some movies and some beers in the fridge that have your name on them. I think we have some leftover pizza still, too.”

Your smile was so bright it was comparable to the sun rising. There was nothing in the world that could keep him down as long as you were happy. Eddie probably would have dropped out of school after his second failure if you hadn’t simply smiled at him and told him that he would graduate next year, for sure. He probably only did because you smiled at him every time he got a good grade.

The way you hugged him for a long time after a report card with no F’s on it kept Eddie’s head in the zone that last school year. And, well, the way your body felt under his when he finally graduated…

Eddie shook his head, wracking his brain for anything to keep his mind from thinking about that night right now. There’s no way him getting a boner while you were still holding on to him so tight would be good.

“I think that sounds like a good idea,” you finally say after staring up at him for several beats. But Eddie caught the somber look in your eyes. It was going to take a lot of distracting to get you in a good head space.

“You know, I think we might still have some popcorn, too.”

After a few drinks, some weed, and a movie and a half later, Eddie finds himself waking up on his couch at some point after falling asleep. The bright, staticy screen causes him to squint his eyes, turning his head enough to bump his chin against the top of your head.

Eddie looks down at where you’re leaning into his side. He vaguely remembers wrapping an arm around you before the two of you had succumbed to sleep. It pains him to possibly wake you but the urge to pee is what startled him awake in the first place, so he does his best to untangle himself from you and sneaks to the bathroom.

On the way back to the couch, Eddie decided to stop in his room and grab a blanket for the two of you. But when he returns, he finds you sitting up and rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Hey,” you croak out, looking at him with squinted eyes.

“Hey,” he whispers back. “I brought us a blanket.”

You stretch before standing up from the couch. “I should probably head home, Eddie.”

“Sweetheart its,” he leans to check the time on the microwave, “3 in the morning.”

Your eyes go wide, hands running over your face. “It is? Fuuuuck.”

“Just stay,” Eddie says, walking over to you and wrapping you up in the blanket. You groan, feeling conflicted on if you should stay and sleep on Eddie’s couch or if you should brave the drive home.

“Hey, if you stay, you don’t have to drive all the way over here to get Fae in the morning.”

“Ugh, okay you got me,” you say, giving in. You sit back down on the couch and start to make yourself comfortable.

“Wait, you can sleep in my bed. Promise I don’t bite.”

That took less convincing as you pop back up, dragging the blankets behind you as you wobble to Eddie’s room. Eddie laughs as you plop into his bed, stealing one of his pillows to make yourself comfortable.

“Hey save some room for me,” he says, walking around to the other side to climb in. He lays next to you, adjusting in an obnoxious manner that has you giggling. You turn to face him and he does the same.

“I love you,” you say at the tail end of a giggle. It’s something said frequently between the two of you. Genuine as it’s spoken after years of friendship.

“Love you, too,” Eddie says with a sigh. Sleep soon takes you both over again. The only sounds that can be heard is the sound of the a/c doing its best to cool down the trailer.

Eddie felt himself waking once again, this time much more comfortably in his own bed. He yawned, shaking a bit as the feeling of waking overcame his body.

The sun peaking through the cracks of his curtains gave the room just enough light that he could see the room with a slight glow. Turning his head, he chanced to see if you were still laying with him. He had a dream that you’d left with Autumn and ran away with Steve that left a sick feeling in his stomach.

Much to his delight you were indeed still occupying the bed with him. Smiling wide as you looked at him, already awake where you lay.

“Mornin’,” he says in his morning voice, and your eyes flicker.

“Morning,” you squeak back. As Eddie turns to face you, your hand finds its way out from under the covers and reaches out towards him. Your fingers gently glide across his cheek, rubbing against the stubble as you push his hair out of his face.

The way you’re looking at him has Eddie’s tummy feeling funny, but in a different way from his dream. You’re looking at him the same way he looks at you.

Suddenly, you push yourself up on your arm, hand still on his cheek as you start to lean in once again. Eddie’s heart beats hard against his chest as you close the distance between the two of you, your lips meeting his in a soft kiss.

It lasts a few moments, and Eddie melts into it. It was a kiss like none he’s ever had before. Not even compared to the last time the two of you kissed before Autumn was born. This kiss felt like a hot cup of coffee on a cold winter morning, the warmth spreading to every part of his body as he drank you in.

When you pulled away, Eddie chased after you, not wanting it to end so soon unknowing if it would ever happen again. When you don’t kiss him again, his eyes finally open to meet yours. They’re bouncing everywhere, scanning his face as if looking for an answer written on his skin.

“Eddie…”

But Eddie doesn’t let you ponder much longer, hand snaking around your head to pull you into him once more. This time more feverishly, the heat palpable between the two of you.

You shift so that you can bury your hands in his hair, and Eddie takes advantage of this to move himself above you. Eddie kisses you into the pillow beneath you, long kisses turning into passionate smacking, poking the fire that was burning between you.

“Tell me to stop,” Eddie says as his lips begin to move down your cheek and to your neck. He says your name breathily, “Tell me now, because I won't be able to stop once this starts.”

“I-I can’t. I won’t,” you stutter, hands grabbing at his waist as he kisses and nips at your neck. Eddie breathes against you, body alight knowing that you wanted this as much as him.

“But,” you say, stopping him in his tracks. You give him a coy smile, nodding towards the door. “You better make it quick. You know she’ll wake up at any moment.”

Eddie huffs out a laugh, “Don’t gotta tell me twice. Better get to work then.”

Eddie suddenly lifts the blanket above the both of you and disappears underneath it. Soft kisses leave a trail from your knees to the apex between them. Eddie slips his fingers in the hem of the sleep pants he let you borrow, pulling them down with your panties in one quick motion. There was barely any light to see, so he decided to just dive in tongue first.

He ate you out like a man starved. Your thighs try hard to wrap around him as he works you up on his tongue, but his strong arms hold you open for him. Eddie groans at the way your fingers grip his hair, tugging just enough to burn so good against his scalp.

Once he added fingers, you had to cover your mouth with your hand to keep yourself quiet. It was like Eddie knew exactly what you liked, because not long after you were coming undone, riding his face as you did.

Eddie crawls up your body, head resting between your breasts as he pokes out from under the covers.

“Jesus, Eddie,” you pant, looking at him in awe.

“And that’s not even the best part,” he teases, making you roll your eyes at him. You grab his face and bring him closer to you, tasting yourself on his lips as you kiss him again.

Eddie rolls his hips subconsciously, and you can feel how hard he is as he grinds against you. You want to say you also forgot how big he was, but it’s something you didn’t want to admit you thought about often.

Your hand travels between you, fingers trailing against his skin as you reach the hem of his boxers. Slipping under it, you feel your way to his hard cock, taking it in your hand to pump him. He whines against your lips, hips moving faster in your grip. You watch with awe struck eyes as his beautiful face contorts in pleasure above you.

“Please,” he pants out as he fucks your hand, “Wanna be inside you. Can I?”

You nod silently, unbelievably turned on by your best friend for the second time now.

He works fast pulling his boxers off quickly, a loud thwaping coming from his cock smacking against his stomach after getting caught on the waistband. Your eyes go wide as you take in his size.

After almost 2 years you’re still shocked at what Eddie Munson is packing. Those dumb ass cheerleaders that picked the bone head jocks over him have no idea what they missed out on.

Eddie settled himself between your legs, spitting on his own cock to get it good and wet before rubbing it in your soaked folds. You had a moment of clarity, realizing that Eddie wasn’t wearing a condom. You opened your mouth to speak, but your words got caught up in a moan as Eddie pushed his way inside of you.

The stretch took your breath away. Eddie seesawed his way into your tight cunt, opening you up on his cock until he was balls deep inside of you. He placed his hands on either hip and started moving, holding you tight as he worked up his pace.

Every thrust felt like too much and not enough at the same time. The constant knocking against your sweet spot had you seeing stars quickly, still worked up from him eating you out. The pretty sounds that Eddie was making wasn’t helping either, but you still had enough mind to shush him so that he wouldn’t wake your daughter.

Eddie’s pace quickens, and he makes the fatal mistake of adding his thumb to the mix. It only throttles you to the edge for a second time this morning. It’s not much longer before your vision goes white, toes curling as your orgasm takes over. It's probably the hardest you’ve cum in a long time.

“Oh, fuck.”

You barely registered Eddie’s words, but you definitely felt the reason behind his curses. Eddie was cumming deep inside you, balls emptying into your pussy as you were still riding out your own orgasm.

In the moment it felt amazing, but the post orgasm bliss left you crashing as you realized the very real situation you were both in.

Eddie felt himself being pushed by you, taking him out of his own high as he stumbled back on his ass. As you open your mouth to speak, Eddie is hit with a wave of deja vu with every word.

“Did you fucking cum in me?” The words came out in slow motion and Eddie’s body broke out in cold sweat.

“I-I’m sorry. I was going to pull out, I just—“

“What? You forgot? Are you kidding me Eddie? Do you not remember what happened the last time?”

Right on cue, your daughter's whines could be heard from across the hall. You sigh, kicking the covers completely away from you and grabbing the pajama pants you had back on.

“Listen, I really am sorry,” Eddie says, looking at you with big, sad eyes. You groan, unable to stay mad at him when he looks at you like that.

“What are we going to do then, Eddie?” You ask him, walking out of his bedroom to get your daughter.

Eddie sits on the bed for a moment and thinks. He knows that you getting pregnant again while Autumn’s only and a half isn't ideal. Not that you being pregnant is ideal anyway, but honestly Eddie wouldn’t be mad about it.

He was so head over heels for both you and Autumn that he doesn’t hate the idea of another person to love is the worst thing. But he’s also not the one doing all the hard work. And if it wasn’t obvious the first time that having a kid wouldn’t fix any problems, then having a second would probably not make much of a difference in your feelings towards him.

The door opens again and Eddie watches as you enter with a squealing toddler on your hip, clearly happy to see both mommy and daddy.

“Morning, sweet girl,” Eddie cooes, scooping his baby up and smothering her with kisses, sending Autumn into a fit of giggles.

“I went ahead and changed her. If you want to dress her I’ll make breakfast.”

Eddie gave you a quick salute as you went to the kitchen, leaving him and your mini me to get ready for the day. It took a lot of wrestling but he was able to get the little one dressed, including hair done, and looking presentable for the day.

Fixing her up in her highchair, Eddie sat at the small kitchen table and breathed a sigh of relief. You shook your head at his theatrics, setting breakfast down for the both of them.

“Hey, I was thinking,” Eddie said, spooning some applesauce into Autumn’s mouth. “After we eat, why don’t I follow you to the pharmacy and we can pick you up a Plan B?”

You quirk an eyebrow in amusement. “You have Plan B money this time?”

“Ha ha,” Eddie laughs dryly at your reference to the last time you had sex, the both of you freaking out over having no money. Thankfully Eddie was able to get a good job at Hawkins Auto Body when you got pregnant. He makes pretty good money now considering he was able to get his own trailer. Money is still tight, but he can manage.

“Fine, better eat up then, or else you’re gonna have two mouths to feed instead of one.”

Eddie looks at your daughter, spitting image of him, besides your nose, and smiles. Maybe now isn’t the right time, but…maybe one day.

[makoodles]

I would give anything to know Ghost’s inner monologue during any part of the last fic you posted. Is he purposefully getting into her space at the beginning (because we all know Ghost is too aware of his body and his trauma to accidentally touch anyone, let along have his entire side against them)? When he walks in does he just blue-screen, is that why he doesn’t immediately leave? What is he thinking when he sees our wet cunt still stuffed? When he finds out no one has touched us that way, or made us cum? When we want him to fuck us so badly we beg him to do it raw? Does his heart break a little when he heard us say we thought he left us, while we were so vulnerable and still dirty? Is he also freaking out about the fraternization stuff, or has he decided that we are his in the same way that he is ours, and Price will just have to cover up another damn thing for his team?

yes to all of this

(a little drabble part 2 to this)

Ghost has a little habit, when you're concerned. He's usually hyper-aware of his body and his limbs and where he's touching, what's around and beside and behind him. His skin itches sometimes when he's touched without warning, though he always hides his reactions. But with you... he's not so careful. He lets his legs spread, his arms stretch, lets himself crowd into your space. There's something intoxicating about the way that you let him, the way you never lean away from him. You're just so soft, so warm, always letting him infringe on your space with a sweet little smile as though you're happy to see him. You're one of the rare people who are happy to see him, and it makes something uncomfortably warm wriggle in his belly.

So yeah, he leans into you when he sits next you in the rec room. It's mostly muscle memory, because you've never minded before. But today, you're a little tense. Ghost knows you, knows you well. He can see the way your spine is a little stiff, the way your eyes are a little glassy as you stare off into the distance. You look a little... ruffled. Ghost watches you carefully out of the corner of his eye, probes a little, but backs off when you dance around his question. He's knows boundaries well, and he won't push yours. Even if he thinks it's... strange that you leave so quickly, eyes averted.

Finding your phone wedged into the seat after you left was like an opportunity. Simon Riley has never had much, he's always made do, and yet he's admittedly greedy when it comes to you. He's not often a selfish man - he's never had enough to be selfish about - and yet he's hungry for your time, your smiles, your touch. And you're always so generous with yourself, so he doesn't second-guess his decision to follow you down the hall to your quarters. He's never been there before, and he wants to see your space, hungry for any shred of you he can get.

He should have knocked. It was rude not to. But he's so, so fucking glad he didn't.

He's a little rough when he opens your door, a little too eager to get into the room and see your pretty grateful smile when he gives you your phone back. But when he gets that door open, sees the sight of you on your back among your sheets, legs spread, head back, eyes fluttered closed, his mind goes fucking blank.

He watches you scramble, watches the mortification flash across your face as you attempt to shut your adorable little pink vibrator off as you shut your legs, depriving him of the prettiest view he's ever seen. Ghost is not a man with a weakness for pretty things, but it seems only natural that you're the exception, you and your pretty wet puffy pussy.

He hardly even knows what happens, his fingers and toes numb and his attention narrowed down to you, only you. Before he knows it, he's sitting on your bed, feeling enormous and ungainly next to you as you stare up at him. He reaches out, his big hands scarred and ugly against your pretty skin when he holds your vibrator, his blood buzzing at the thought that this had been inside you mere moments ago.

He never thought he'd be envious of a piece of fucking plastic, but here he is. A big man, a deadly soldier, reduced to a fool at your bedside. And yet, you don't even seem to notice. You're so good, so sweet, parting your legs when he asks you to and letting him look.

He asks you to finish. It's bold, and stupid, and greedy. He wants to see you come - he already knows it'll be the prettiest thing he's ever seen, that it'll be seared in his mind forever. In this moment, he thinks he'd do anything just to watch your eyes roll back, your face go slack, to hear the pretty little noises he knows you'll make.

It escalates faster than he could have imagined. Such a sweet thing, laying back and showing him how you use your vibrator. And he watches eagerly, his breath catching at the realisation that this is how you play with yourself when you're alone. You're clumsy about it, which is absolutely adorable.

But then you make a confession, and Ghost thinks he might be spiralling. You've never been touched, never been fucked, never come. It feels like an outrage. He thinks of how tense you'd been earlier, shifting beside him in your blue jeans, and he just thinks... what the fuck? Prettiest girl he's ever seen, and you don't even know how to touch your own cunt properly? He wants to show you, more than anything he's ever wanted before. Greedy. You make him so greedy.

"Let me try."

He's between your legs before he even knows how he got there, pulling your stupid little vibrator out so he can replace it with his fingers. And if he thought he was greedy, he soon finds that he's well-matched when it comes to you. You're just as eager, just as hungry. Spreading your legs and whimpering, all those sweet, sweet noises that spill out of your mouth, just like he knew they would.

You have the prettiest cunt he's ever seen. Pretty, slick, swollen, just as hungry as the rest of you. He alternates between his fingers and his mouth and your little dildo, a little drunk on your taste and your soft thighs when they squeeze around his head. He kisses you too, because he can't help himself. Greedy.

He's never been a chatty man, but his cock is so hard now and he knows his mouth is running. He can't help himself. Your salty-sweet slick on his tongue has loosened it; he barely even knows what he's saying, or what he's promising, but by god he's going to live up to it.

Then, your lovely sweet voice, all breathless and pitchy, asking “Can I try yours?”

Not only that, you beg. You plead with him to fuck you, to do it raw, as if he was ever going to say no. As if he'd ever be strong enough to say no. He can hardly handle hearing you beg like that; he feels as though he's going to blow before he even gets his cock inside you.

In his wildest dreams, he never imagined you so needy. You writhe, you're soaked, you make the most heart-stopping little noises deep in your throat when he presses inside. You're so hot and wet and tight that it feels as though you're about to squeeze his cock right off, and he tries so hard to feed it to you slow, to give you time to take him. You're so good, taking him even though you struggle a little. He's not a small man, certainly not an easy man to take inside of you for your very first time, but it's a testament to how slick and eager you are that he slides in with minimal effort.

After that, he loses himself. Hardly even knows what's he's doing, working based on pure instinct, filling and fucking you until he's losing his breath. God, you're beautiful, and he clenches his jaw hard to bite back his orgasm - he has to focus on you, only you while the tears are streaming down your pretty face as you gasp and cry for him.

He can see your orgasm creeping up on you before you recognise it yourself. When it hits you, it's a whole body event. Your back arches, legs spasm, stomach trembles, eyes roll back. Your cunt clenches down so fucking tight that it's a little bit painful. Simon doesn't dare blink - he's never going to fucking forget this. Your very first orgasm, and you're experiencing it on the end of his cock.

He loses it a little after that, his thoughts fizzing and slipping from his grasp as he loses his coordination. By the time he comes inside of you, cock throbbing and skin tightening, he's already decided that he's going to have to make you come again. Once isn't enough, not for someone as hungry as him. Or you.

He thinks he might have fucked you stupid. Your eyelids are fluttering and your lips are parted, but you're a little bit dead to the world. It's cute. He feels his pride swell, smug at the thought that he's fucked you so good that he's sent you reeling off into dreamworld.

He leaves, only for a moment, unable to be away from you for too long. He just wants to get a cloth, something to wipe you off with to make you all clean and fresh again. You're already awake when he comes back, though you're still hazy and clumsy and all teary-eyed.

He's happy to wipe you clean, despite your quiet mewling complaints, and then he hauls himself into your bed just so he can curve his big-ass body around your smaller one, relishing your sweet softness. God, he's wanted to hold you like this forever, but he's still a little nervous about hurting you. Killing and maiming and hurting have been the only things he's been really good at his whole life, and he's irrationally fearful of moving wrong and hurting you, even after the sex. Or maybe especially after the sex.

He can see your brow crease, the uncertainty in your eyes. He realises you're probably a little uncertain about where you stand with him, or what this is. That's fair. Simon has never been the most demonstrative man, but he's also been the type to cling on like a tick to the things he values, the things he wants to keep safe. He holds you, checking his strength, proud to be able to keep you safe in his arms.

He's going to make sure that you don't worry about it either. Your hair smells sweet, your skin is so warm, and your ass is so soft where it's pressed against his crotch. He's reaching for you before he can think about it, and his heart pulses hard when you spread your legs for him so easily. God, he's gonna ruin you. Just like he promised.

[lxnarphase]

PRETTY BITCHES LOVE ME ᯓ★

━━ ❝ SHE A BADDIE, SHE SHOWIN' HER PANTY! ❞ wc. 3.7k

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : suguru is just as big of a show off as gojo, he's just more subtle about it. and he wants everyone in this damn club to know that you're his.

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : blk!fem!reader x g. suguru, suggestive content, alcohol mention, exhibitionism, voyeurism (?), fingerfucking, public fingering, little bit of breeding kink and talks of knocking you up, lots of kissing, suguru really loves his girl, suguru can’t keep his hands to himself

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's note : suguru is just a slut for you i don't know what else to tell you. he's just as much as a mischievous little shit as gojo ! if you want to be tagged for the future posts, comment on the main post here ! enjoy baddies ❤︎ (also yes nonblack readers can read and reblog too, idk why some anons try to gatekeep)

suguru's so touchy with you, it's sweet.

he can't keep his hands off of you whenever you go out. the poor man feels like he might just die if he's not having some sort of physical contact with you the majority of the day.

it could be the grocery store on a late night snack run in matching pajama bottoms or like now, a long night at the club for some celebration.

neither one of you remembers what or who the part is for, the alcohol in your systems causing you to focus on one another. the rest of your group is busy on the dance floor or bar, leaving you and suguru to cuddle up to each other in the VIP area like the lovesick idiots the two of you are.

your sitting across his lap, one hand in his hair and the other holding his shoulder, rubbing random shapes and patterns into the fabric of his shirt. it's so unfair, he just smells so fucking good and looks so damn handsome. you genuinely can't look at anything but him. 

and he loves it so damn much.

"s'guruuu," you coo at him, nose smooshed against his cheek. if you could, you'd get even closer to him, but this would have to suffice for now. "you're so handsome tonight..." 

the corners of his mouth tilt up into a smug smirk as he chuckles, his hand sliding from your knee to your upper thigh, stroking the exposed skin. you're so soft, could you really blame him for wanting to touch you all the time? compared to you, suguru is way more sober and is just eating up all the attention you're giving him.

not just because he loves you, but that was a plus.

no, it's because people are watching.

his sharp purple eyes flicker up, meeting with the group of girls outside of the VIP area that keep looking his direction.

their eyes are filled with interest and want when they look at him, and he can't help but chuckle to himself.

suguru knows he's attractive. hell, he's reminded of it every morning by the way you shower him in kisses and praises as part of your morning routine, making sure he knows just how much you love him and his 'stupidly pretty face,' as you so elegantly put it.

but what makes him laugh is how they look at you with disdain and confusion, as if they can't understand why you're in his lap instead of them.

it's disgusting, really, for them to even have the slightest thought that they could replace you. they must be lying to themselves, he thinks as your lips start to press kisses against his cheek, the soft curls and coils of your hair tickling his cheek.

you're just so cute, so adorable, so gorgeous, so beautiful. you're his pretty little angel, and seeing women jealous of you just fills him with so much pride, knowing you have other women jealous of you.

if only they knew how badly you have him wrapped around your little finger. if you so much as asked, suguru wouldn't hesitate to beat the shit out of someone for you, wouldn't hesitate to kill for you...but thankfully, it never got to that point.

yet.

"hmm, you think i'm handsome?" he leans in, his breath warm against your neck as he nips your ear. "nah, you look so damn gorgeous, angel. you're stealing the spotlight from me t'night."

his fingers trace circles into your thigh, enjoying your little giggles and complaints of it tickling. it only makes him do it more, your laughs and giggles making his heart squeeze a little bit.

fuck, suguru really loves how your skin feels under his fingertips, soft and smooth. it's all he thinks about. he wants to touch you forever, wants to feel you every second of the day. you are just so warm and soft, nothing would ever compare to the feel of your skin.

pulling away from your ear, he sees that those girls are still there, looking at you and him. the smirk on his face falters a bit, and his gaze hardens.

man, he really doesn't like how they're looking at you.

it's so easy for him to tell they have no cursed energy, just mere humans that could never even hope to be on the same level as you. it would be so fucking easy to just...snap his fingers and have them gone in an instant.

you steal his attention away from them and the dark thoughts swirling in his head by tilting his head your way, and instantly, his gaze softens.

jesus, the things you do to this man.

"sugu? what's wrong, honey," you mumble, worry etched into your features. you cup his face, thumbs stroking his cheeks to get him to calm down. "you don't look happy..."

the feel of your hands on his face, paired with the sweet concern in your voice, it washes away all irritation in him instantly. suguru hums, his eyes sliding shut. and the soft look in your eyes...he's so whipped for you, it's sickening.

you're so warm...

"no, baby, nothing's wrong," he reassures you, his smooth voice a low rumble. if he could, he'd be purring incredibly loudly right now, nuzzling into your palms. just your touch is enough to make him melt.

"'m just thinkin' how lucky I am, havin' you all to myself like this. the prettiest girl in the world, and she's sitting in my lap...who knew i'd make it this far in life, hm?"

the low, purple lights of the club cast a soft glow on your face as your fluffy hair frames your face, and suguru sighs, looking at you like you were his everything. you are his everything.

a quick glance to the side and suguru takes note that those girls are still fucking there, looking at you both. instead of getting irritated again, suguru gets an idea.

with a smirk, his hand slides up further your thigh, his fingertips slipping under the hem of that pretty purple dress he bought you that contrasts against the dark color of your skin...so pretty.

"mm, babygirl, just looking at you is making me dizzy," suguru purrs, his gaze dipping to your lips before meeting your eyes again. "you know i love you right? an' that all i wanna do is show you off s' everyone knows how pretty you are, right?"

you know better.

you know better than to trust him when he starts making comments like this, when he starts cooing and praising you out of nowhere.

because you know that it means suguru is up to no damn good.

you still haven't forgiven him for making you squirt on his fingers while he was on the phone with nanami...even though it was kind of cute how nanami couldn't look you in the eye without blushing for about two weeks.

"mhm...i know, sugu, you're a little show off that likes to get us in trouble," you playfully scold, tugging his hair a little as you giggle, looking at him with a soft gaze.

suguru's head tilts back, and his eyes flutter shut for a moment, a soft grunt leaving him. he's always been a sucker for you pulling on his hair like that, likes when you tug him around to make a point...shit, he's getting hard just from thinking of all the times you'd use his hair to get his attention or make him focus on something.

and it doesn't take long for you to discover his thoughts are going south.

with an exasperated gasp, you feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against your ass, letting out a little scold of his name. his grip on you tightens when you shift to confirm your suspicions. his head leans to rest in the crook of your neck, a silent plea for more of your affection.

"but you like it when I show off," suguru teases back, pressing a kiss against your neck as your curls tickle his face again. even your hair was soft, it's like he's got his own little pillow pet in his lap. the thought makes him chuckle, knowing you'd probably swat at him playfully for comparing you to a plushy

"you get all worked up, it's so cute, angel...plus, i think y'like it when i cause trouble." his hand swaps thighs and creeps up higher under your dress, his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. he's playing a risky game. at any moment, someone could catch him and get you both kicked and banned from the club.

but where's the fun in life without taking risks?

"c'mooon, admit it, baby, you like it."

one glance up back into the crowd and suguru hums, his eyes glinting dangerously. still there, it seems.

they aren't staring as hard now, but looks of disbelief cross their face when his hand shamelessly goes right to the apex of your thighs, fingers running over the lace of your panties. suguru doesn't care anymore, if they wanna look so bad, he'll give them something to stare at.

"s-suguru...you're, mnh, gettin' close there..."

he doesn't give you a response, his hand sliding from your back up to your hair to keep your head in the crook of his neck. he may be fine with showing out a little bit to these bitches who tired to glare daggers into you, but no one except him gets to see your face.

the way your lashes flutter, the way your teeth dig into the plushness of your bottom lip...it's driving him crazy.

the faint scent of your perfume hits his nose, and he's gone. his cock is pressing against your ass in full hardness, and he has to stop himself from grinding up into you.

nah, right now, this is about you.

he's going to take care of you, going to make you feel good, going to make sure you know that you are his in every way that counts.

without wasting another moment, suguru's fingers slip under your panties, pausing when they touch the faint wetness gathering at your slit.

"fuck...baby, don't tell me you've been like this the whole night," he rasps, his breathing slowly starting to pick up. your soft cunt is hot to the touch, sticky and wet as he drags his fingers through your slick.

"i can't help it, you just...look, really good t'night, baby," you huff into his ear, gasping a moan when he doesn't hesitate to slip a finger into your slick hole.

he really does look good tonight, dressed in those black dress pants, sleek dress shoes, and that stupidly hot black button-up shirt. and he has the sleeves rolled up and the top few buttons undone so that you can get a nice view of that necklace with your name on it resting on his collarbone.

how can you not get soaking wet?

"shit." he's groaning, the sensation of you nuzzling your face into his neck to press little open-mouthed kisses into all the sensitive spots of his neck sending a shiver down his spine. it's so sweet and precious how you try your hardest not to make too much noise and not move too much as he stirs up your cunt with just one of his fingers.

he wishes you both were back at home, wishes that he had you spread open on the bed so that he can see how wet he's got you just from his attire, so that he can hear your pussy squelch around his fingers. not even the strongest in the world would be able to pull him from your pussy whenever you get this wet.

the thought of gojo trying to pull him away from you makes him cringe a bit...because he knows damn well that idiot would be shoving his face deeper into your cunt, grinning as he practically makes suguru drown in you.

on second thought, that's not a bad way to go....

another tug to his hair as him unintentionally groaning, eyes snapping shut at the sharp pang of pleasured pain that shoots up his spine. his attention is back on you, his face close to yours as he breathes against your ear.

if you want his attention, then he'll give you all of it with no hesitation.

"suguruu, more...please," you finally whine, the slow movement not enough for you. it's almost torture; the slow in and out motions of his finger making you feel good but not good enough. no, you need more, craved it.

"yeah? you gonna be a good girl f' your suguru and let him take care of this needy lil' pussy? hm?" one finger turns into two, and that familiar heat pools in your lower abdomen. now it's feeling so fucking good that you already know his fingers are gonna be coated in your juices.

this should be embarrassing, it really should. you both are in a club for fucksake! but you can't find it in you to care about it, his thick digits working your cunt so good that your brain is just melting.

one of your hands grips his button-up, fisting in the fabric to ground yourself from the pleasure. "m-mhm! I'll be good, I'll be s' good for you, sugu, promise!" suguru is becoming relentless, determined to make you crack and stop hiding those pretty sounds from him when he takes note of how you go right back to biting your lip after giving him that sweet, needy response.

however, he loves seeing your lips all swollen, knowing they were like that because he made you feel so good you had to force yourself to be quiet.

"sweetheart, don' hide it, lemme hear you, 's just you and me," he whispers to you, his other hand burying itself in your curls and giving a little tug. he knows it's not just the both of you, but right now, in this moment, it's all that exists for him.

the harsh pull of your hair has your lips brushing against his ear and choking on a moan, unable to keep it in. "thaaaat's it, let me hear how good it feels t' have these fingers buried deep inside this tight cunt."

you hate this, hate when he talks because it only makes you wetter. and that means he's gonna talk even more, and you're always right because he's cooing at how much slick is pouring out of you now, asking if it's because of his voice or his fingers.

suguru's so fucking annoying, such an asshole, but you can't help but let him get away with it when it means he makes your eyes flutter closed in pleasure.

you let him get away with way too much, don't you?

the song playing now is so loud, the bass making the ground vibrate. but suguru doesn't care, he's just thankful it's loud enough to cover that fucking beautiful moan you give him when he curls his fingers juuuust right.

"oooh, there? did i find it? fuck, baby, y'got so tight jus' from that."

your desperate nod of confirmation is all he needs before he speeds up his fingers, groaning when he can finally hear the wet schlicks of his hand coaxing more slick out of you.

one more glance up and suguru can't help but grin. the girls are gone, now mixed up in the crowd likely red and hot in the face.

seems like his impromptu little show finally got the message across: he is yours and yours only.

knowing he no longer had to show off, he's focusing on you, on you and that tight, needy little slit between your legs that's dripping down his wrist. it should be a crime for someone to be this wet, in public no less.

"c'mon, angel, don' hold back on me anymore, lemme know how it feels. wanna know 'm treating this gorgeous pussy good."

you let out the prettiest moan, breath hot against his ear. suguru coos, his hand not between your legs holding your neck to keep your head in the crook of his neck. “mhg, suguru, love it s' much, g-god, your fingers feel s'good, 's not fair.”

you can't stop yourself from trying to spread your legs more, giving him a bit better access. you know you can't open them too much ot someone might see.

but...would that be so bad? for people to see how suguru could make you fall apart so seamlessly?

if only you knew that's exactly what was running through his head right now. he's positive at least one person has caught on to what's happening, the repeating motions of his hand between your legs such a dead giveaway.

it thrills him, his cock throbbing in his pants at the thought. shit, he's learning things about himself he didn't know before...he might have to do this to you more often.

he leans in closer, his mouth grazing the sensitive skin of your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he whispers, "y'gonna cum for me right here in this club, aren't you, babygirl? gonna show me how much you love my fingers playing with this slutty lil' pussy, right?"

he gets a sweet little 'yes, sugu' and he purrs your name, the mixture of your moans, the music, and the just barely audible sounds of your slickness being stirred by his thick fingers, making him feel drunk.

you're shaking in his lap, holding on for dear life as he makes it a point to curl his fingers with each thrust, not giving you a break anymore. you're spiraling, feeling the tremors of your impending orgasm building, your hot, gummy walls fluttering around his stupidly thick digits. you're praying silently between each pant and gasp, desperately hoping he doesn't make you squirt, not now, not when so many people are around—!

"c'mon, baby, c'mon," suguru encourages, his fingers picking up their pace. you're so close, he knows it, he knows because he can feel it coming. the way you fist his shirt, the way your hips are trying to hard to not rise up to meet his hand, knowing it would make it so obvious what's happening.

but suguru, oh, he stopped caring so fucking long ago. he just wants to feel you soak his fingers, wants to hear your muted little moan of his name when you finally cum. he just wants to make sure you know you're his.

"b-baby, suguru, shit, i'm gonna cum—!"

"yeah? that's it, baby, let got f'me, you can do it," he urges and coos, his voice bordering on needy and desperate, just like you. he's panting into your ear, whispering little praises as he listens to you pitifully try to keep your gasps and moans down. you're such a mess, it's so cute, you're so adorable, god, he loves you so bad.

your thick thighs are quivering and trembling as you teeter on the brink of release. you know it's going to be a mess, but you try, you try so hard to keep it in.

suguru notices—how could he not—and he's not having it, slipping a third finger inside your messy little cunt, curling deep inside right against that sweet spot, and that knot wound so tight inside you finally snaps.

"s-suguuuu, 'm cummin'—!"

he's reveling in how your hot, gummy walls squeeze and spasm all over his fingers, milking them for all they're worth as you cry and sob his name into his ear, tears caught on your eyelashes from how good it feels. he wishes he could look at you, wanting to drink up your expressions, but no, he'd be risking someone else seeing how pretty you are when you cum.

"yessss, good girl, good fuckin' girl, gimme everything, babygirl."

your cries of release are so damn sweet to his ears, and he continues to work you through it, ensuring your orgasm is as prolonged and intense as possible. if you were home, he wouldn't care about stopping or overstimulating, but he has to remind himself to stay calm and not go too hard.

if he did, he wasn't sure he'd be able to stop himself from fucking you on this couch in the middle of the VIP section in front of all these people.

once suguru feels you go slack in his arms and your hand weakly slap against his chest, he slows his hand, his own breaths heavy with the arousal and need you stirred in him...did you have any idea how sexy you were? if he wasn't as controlled as he was, he's positive he would've cum in his pants.

pulling his fingers out slowly, suguru's quick to pop them into his mouth, sucking off your juices like it would be the last time he'd ever get a last. fuck, you soaked his hand...he doesn't care how obvious he makes it when he licks at his palm and wrist to not miss a drop.

"hhmph, s-suguru, you—"

"i need you, right now. can i take you home?"

of course, he has to ask. he knows how long it took you to get ready, to look so fucking perfect. but right now, he doesn't want anyone to look at you. hell, he doesn't want anyone else but him to be near you, he'd fucking wipe out this entire club right now if you asked.

the soft touch of your hands on his face brings him back, making him melt as his eyes slide shut. you're so soft, he loves you so much, he needs to stick his cock into you while groaning those words into your ear, needs to feel his tip kiss that soft, spongy spot inside you that makes your back arch off the bed, to fold you in half as he stuffs you so full, praying that his cum gets stuck deep inside you, praying that it takes and that he gets you knocked up, and that—

"take me home, sugu, please, i-i need you s' bad."

your words have him acting in an instant he presses a quick kiss to your lips, licking whatever is left of your lipgloss before helping you stand up with him, guiding you out of the club. if he stays in here for any longer, he's not sure he'll be able to control himself.

"i got you, baby, don't worry, 'm gonna give you what you need. let's go, princess."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...lunar's tags : @satoruwiki @llllllllllllloser @screampied @abcdbleh @vicfuentesfangirl @sakurapeach @ohsuguru @crywolfix @naughtygobbo @aura88967 @jeanine-gt @tananaxx @tojancy @happymangosstuff @charming-chikara @actuallynarii @ninikrumbs @inette04 @paint-eater2 @haesify @shaguro

[werecreature-addicted]

i love the idea of a werewolf best friend who is totally in love with you and keeps trying to court you but since you're human you're just thinking he's being thoughtful or something

but he busts every night to the thought of you crying into the pillow, his heavy body pressing onto you and pushing you to the mattress, as he fucks his fat cock into you, trying to knot you and knock you up

want so badly to mark you as his that when he even gets a glimpse of your neck/shoulders he salivates and gets hard

werewolf courting is a subtle thing- really it's more about keeping others away from you than winning you over. you don't see all the sharp glares he sends to other people. or the way he snaps at his other friends for mentioning how cute you look.

he's sweet to you. he gives you bites off his plate. and almost always brings you a drink or snack when you hang out together. he'd be leaving kills on your doorstep but apparently it "freaks out the neighbors" and "you don't know what to do with a whole deer carcass" or whatever. humans are so hard to please. those silly little candies you like can't be very filling but he can't shake the urge to feed you. so he does.

He's also very protective. he always walks/ drives you home at the end of the night. he'll be by your side in an instant if you call for him and god help any idiot who tries to fuck with you.

Also, his home is always open to you. if you ever want to come over randomly or borrow something- what's his is yours. you don't realize how territorial he is with everyone else because he's always so generous and giving with you. especially with clothes!! if you want a sweatshirt or a pair of shorts, they're yours. he loves little things like that to make you smell like him.

To any other werewolf, any one of these things would be a clear indication of romantic interest. I mean- the guy lets you eat off his plate! do you have any idea how territorial wolves are with food? No! Of course, you don't you're human. all of it feels normal to you. there might be other things that you take for flirting that he's doing on accident. but really you think of him as a really good friend.

it's hell on your werewolf. He doesn't know what he's doing wrong. he's a perfect mate for you, but you never seem to acknowledge his flirting as something romantic. he hates it when you stretch your head to the side, baring your neck to him, it's like you're begging to be marked. and by "hates" I do mean it gets his mind spinning. it's like you have no idea how hard it is not to bite you sometimes.

He can't help himself. he will keep going until you accept him because he knows that you're the one for him. so he walks you home for the night then goes back to his place, alone, and lays in bed thinking about you.

at first, it's nothing dirty. he's just wondering what the two of you will do when you hang out next, then he's wondering what you're doing right now. did you take a shower? did you go straight to bed? what do you sleep in when you're all alone? what if you sleep in just your underwear- or naked.

he's hard. he always is when he lets himself think about you too much. he can't help it. so he starts touching himself while he lets his mind wander.

it would feel good to bite your neck. it would feel better to bite the soft sensitive skin of your inner thigh. he wants to mark you while he fucks you. he wants to own you inside and out. he knows you'd take his cock well. it's big but you don't mind, right? you'd like a little pain with your pleasure.

he thinks about all the different positions he could put you in. he thinks about you ridding his cock, about flipping you over and pinning your knees to your chest so he can see your face as he ruins you.

he cums all over himself imagining you screaming- begging him to knot you. he can only hope one day his little fantasy will become a reality.

[ellecdc]

hi lovie !

I ADORE your writing and get so excited everytime you post 😭

I wanted to ask if you’re okay with writing a poly!marauders x reader fic where r is an overthinker and over analyzes small things. It brings r to think the boys are mad at reader so r begins to close off— happy ending w/ healthy communication, just them reassuring r

🤍you can absolutely ignore this!!

thank you baby! I'm so glad to have you here with me 😭 thanks for your request 🫶

poly!marauders x fem!reader

CW: insecurities, overthinking, belief of conflict, eventual healthy communication skills, men behaving rationally (that's how you know it's fiction) jkjkjkjkjk 👀

You knew you were overthinking; you could actually hear yourself spiraling as you chewed aggressively on your cuticles. You ran through every single interaction you and the boys had throughout the past few days and couldn’t help but come to the same conclusion every time.

They were mad at you.

And even saying it aloud made you feel silly because, really, what could you have possibly done that would have managed to upset all three of them without knowing about it?

There had been a few disagreements between the four of you since the beginning of the relationship; more specifically since you had joined the relationship. 

The boys, it seemed, went through most of their more volatile fights prior to you meeting them. 

But that didn’t mean there weren’t arguments. There were always differences of opinions, some hurt feelings, and learning everyone’s sensitivities and love languages etc. didn’t happen overnight; it took time.

One thing you were particularly thankful for was that you had yet to ever feel like the boys were ‘ganging up’ on you. Your argument always stayed between you and the participant of the conversation and everyone else opted to stay out of it unless they felt they could provide some helpful insight. 

But for all of them to be mad at you without some big blow up happening? You couldn't imagine what would have caused it.

It wouldn’t have been anything you said or done to Sirius, as he was a very head strong person who preferred to face things upfront and head on. If you had done something wrong to Sirius, you would have heard about it. 

James was a wild card since he usually wore his feelings on his sleeve, but he also had a tendency to paint a smile on his face and smile through the pain in order to keep the peace. 

Remus was often stoic and the voice of reason, but you also knew he could be incredibly sensitive.

Oh god... had you done something to upset Remus? You must have...it’s the only rational explanation. He’d likely be telling Sirius not to say anything to you, and since Sirius struggled in biting his tongue, it would make sense that he opt for the “if you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all” route.

And though James did tend to smile through the pain in order to keep the peace, he was also fiercely protective of his people – particularly when those people don’t seem inclined to stand up for themselves.

Oh god. Is this why they asked you to come over tonight? They wanted to talk to you...no, they wanted to break up with you. 

By the time James opened the door, you had forgotten you even knocked. He was all bright smiles until he took in your form – he was disappointed to see you. 

“Hello, honey. Come on in.” He said, though his words were stilted, sounding oddly scripted and rehearsed. 

“Hey sweets!” Sirius called from somewhere in their flat, “have you eaten yet?”

“Yeah.” You called back, having to clear your throat when your voice came out gravelly. You could feel James’ eyes burning a hole into the side of your face.

“Moony’s running late from work, but he’ll be home soon.” James announced as he ushered you into the living room.

You scanned your surroundings, cataloguing everything like it might be your last time in here.

You found signs of Remus’ love of trinkets and the oddities everywhere you looked, as well as signs of James and Sirius feeding into that by bringing him home things they’ve found as well. There’s a small pewter fox you bought on your trip to the coast sitting on one of the shelves of his bookcase.

Picture frames lined the walls; evidence of Sirius’ love for photography, his camera, and his favourite people.

And the god-awful pillow James found at an estate sale and insisted it have a place on the couch. It was ugly, it was lumpy, it didn’t match with anything else in the space, but it was James’ and he loved it.

Sirius came bounding into the room and rubbed at James’ shoulder affectionately, pecking a quick kiss to the crown of your head in hello before breezing by to head to the kitchen.

“He just got a home a few moments ago, he’s gonna heat up some leftovers for him and for Remus when he gets home.” James explained.

“Do you want any, doll?” Sirius called.

“No, I’m okay. Thank you!” You tried your best to sound upbeat while a horrid feeling settled in your stomach.

James seemed to feel just as awkward as you did; keeping his eyes dutifully on you whilst trying to appear that he wasn’t. His leg bounced anxiously underneath him as he leaned onto the arm of the grandfather chair he sat in – across the room from you.

It may as well have been an ocean worth of distance with the way it left you feeling.

Sirius returned to the living room a few moments later and made himself comfortable on the other end of the couch from you, kicking his feet up onto the coffee table after placing a glass of water directly on the coffee table. You wanted to chide him, knowing Remus would have him by the bollocks if he saw, but you didn’t know if it was your place anymore.

Sirius asked you how your day at work was and you offered him a vague “oh it was alright. Long. How about yours?” which started him on a long tangent about some of his more colourful customers today and how tiresome he found people in general. He and James shared some quips and anecdotes about worst moments in their various retail experiences, and you thought about how much you were going to miss this.

“Okay, what is going on?” Sirius snapped abruptly, causing your head to shoot up so quickly that you heard it crack.

“Huh?” You asked sheepishly.

Sirius’ brows furrowed as he stole a glance at James before turning back to you. “You’re being weird...what’s going on with you?”

But you didn’t get a chance to answer when the sound of the front door alerted everyone to Remus’ arrival. You hated that you visibly tensed at the sound of him moving down the hall.

“Hey bubs. Is she here?” You heard him ask James, since you and Sirius couldn’t yet see him nor he you from his position in the hall way.

You felt your face scrunch up miserably and quickly brought your hands up to shield your face, choking out a silent sob.

“Yeah.” James responded, though his voice was but a whisper as Sirius added a “whoa” at the same time. 

“What did you guys do?” Remus cooed and made his way towards you having spotted your distress.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered miserably, both for whatever you’d done to cause this conflict between the four of you and also for your embarrassing display of emotions.

“What are you sorry for, dovey?” Remus asked softly as he knelt in front of you, gently taking your wrists and coaxing them away from your face. 

“For upsetting you all.”

Remus’ brows furrowed beyond their worried state and into a more confused state as he turned to look at the other two boys in bemusement. 

“Well, I don’t think any of us are happy that you’re so upset, love, but we’re not upset. You don’t have to apologize.” He pressed.

“I don’t think that’s what this is.” James input from his place across the room.

“I’m sorry. I’m not quite sure why you’re mad at me, but I’d like to talk about it with you and I promise not to do it again.” You cried, sounding disturbingly and embarrassingly close to begging.

“Mad at you? Is that why you’ve been such a weirdo tonight? You thought we were mad at you?” Sirius asked incredulously.

“Don’t call her a weirdo, Pads!” James chided, standing from his chair. 

“Why’d you think everyone was mad at you, dove?” Remus asked, ignoring the squawking of his boyfriends behind him as he forced you to hold eye contact with him.

“I... I don’t know, I guess things just felt kind of off this week and then...I don’t know.” You admitted dumbly. “And then I got here and, it just felt weird.”

“I’m sorry, angel.” James apologized, suddenly beside you having taken to sitting directly on top of (a very petulant) Sirius. “You seemed distressed and... I got nervous. Usually, Rem is the better one at handling these things, I wanted to wait until he got here to broach the subject. Sirius, though, has the tact of a bull.”

“So, you were just going to let all of us sit here awkwardly until Remus got here to save the day, huh? Not on my fucking watch.” Sirius groaned as he positioned himself to kick James not only off of him, but off the couch completely. This caused Sirius’ glass of water to topple off the coffee table and onto the rug below it.

“Nice going, Prongs,” Sirius spat victoriously from his place on the couch, “look at the mess you’ve made.”

“It wasn’t even my cup!” James defended.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice that wasn’t on a fuckin' coaster, Sirius.” Remus reproached darkly, tossing the dark-haired boy a glare over his shoulder.

Sirius just smirked and then winked at you. “There you go, dollface, now everyone’s mad at me instead.”

“Awe, Pads!” James cooed from the ground before launching himself back onto Sirius. “Look at you, taking the heat off our pretty girl.”

Remus shook his head in exhaustion, but you could see a fond smile ghosting his lips from his place before you.

“Trust me, dove. You’re the least of our problems.”

You chuckled wetly and wiped the tears (and more embarrassingly, the snot) from your face. “I’m sorry. I feel rather silly now.”

Sirius, having given up on his instance to be the little spoon between he and James, looked around James’ broad frame in his lap to face you. “How about this; if we’re ever upset with you, we promise to tell you. If we haven’t said anything; it’s safe to assume we’re not mad. Okay?”

You nodded in agreement.

“And...” James continued. “Next time you find yourself feeling like this, maybe you can tell us, too?”

You nodded emphatically. “Yes, I promise. I’m sorry.”

Remus kissed the backs of both of your hands and stood from his knelt position in front of you.

“No more sorry’s, dove. We’re all good.”

James stood from Sirius’ lap to place a warm kiss to the space between your cheek and ear and whispered another apology for your being upset.

“Hey, Moons?” Sirius called.

“Yeah?”

“Are you heading to the kitchen?” He called with the sort of smirk that caused you and James to exchange a suspicious look.

“Yeah.”

“Can you grab me a glass of water, please?”

“Fuckin’ hell Sirius get off your arse. And use a sodding coaster.” Remus bellowed from the bedroom.

“See? You’re the least of our problems.” James repeated, stamping another kiss to your cheek. 

[mournings-stars]

could i have anything with a married vox x reader pleasee? i'm so obsessed with this television it isn't even funny 😭

okay im FINALLY publishing this — in my defense i wrote like five vox x wife!readers after getting this and couldn't decide which to publish to this ask but now yall are getting over protective husband vox cus i love him and now i wanna make an actual fic also i originally read this request as wife!reader so i made reader fem but I'm just now realizing it's married i hope that's okay!!

warning: vox is a little crazy and reader does not care

No one knew Vox was married — and it wasn’t because he wanted to hide you, or he felt ashamed. He could never feel ashamed; you were basically his pride and joy — It was because he couldn’t stand anyone trying anything with you. Especially because of how much he doted on you. Someone could easily see how much he cared and use it against him — they could hurt you, manipulate you, maybe even force you into a soul-binding deal. He couldn’t risk anything happening to you.

That was why you lived very separate lives… Well, not entirely separate. He couldn’t stand letting you work for someone else (they could take advantage of you, or try to flirt with you), and he couldn’t handle being too far away from him during the day, so you worked at VoxTek. You had a job where you never interacted with your husband, and it left your days feeling exceptionally lonely. Especially because he claimed that he “didn’t want to overwork you,” which meant he stayed at the office much later than you did and you were left at home. Alone for most of the night, usually falling asleep before he got there, and waking without him because he went in earlier than you. 

You also had weekends off while he worked a good portion of the day, which let you “go out on the town” of course, but it also left you, again, very lonely. He did email you throughout the day, but that was because no one could see those emails. It was “an outdated form of communication” as he called it, which meant no one looked through them. 

Of course, when you did get to see him, you were ecstatic. He went on and on about how much he missed you all week, subtly asking if anyone had bothered you at all. If they did, they very coincidentally disappeared, so you often told him “no” for the sake of your coworkers’ souls.

And of course, after some time, people did start to bother you. They would get promoted, and get the chance to work with your husband directly, while you stayed exactly where you were and didn’t even get a call from him. That led them to teasing, which turned into snide comments and remarks, which became little “accidents” like spilling hot coffee on you or ruining and deleting your work. 

One day, after someone dumped piping hot coffee all over you, and a very expensive blouse your husband bought, you had enough and backhanded her. 

You were an overlord’s wife, and he gave you everything. Even and especially power. That meant the employee was flung across the room while screens burst and crackled around her, and you were dragged up to Vox’s office. 

“What is it now?” Vox asked when your supervisor knocked on his door, ignoring your wincing as you tried to get the scalding hot coffee-stained blouse as far from your skin as possible. 

“Another low-class bitch ruining our image,” was the response that made you laugh, knowing this person would be dead as soon as they opened the door. 

“Ah…” He sighed, but you knew he was smiling. “Come in.” He was probably going through his weaponry, pulling out just the thing to get rid of the “low-class bitch,” but as soon as the door was opened, you were shoved in front of him, and his weapon went off, you weren’t the one to fall limply to the ground. 

The two employees who opened the door quickly dragged the supervisor away and left you alone in the room. 

As soon as they were gone, he discarded his weapon and went to you. “What happened to you?” He wiped under your big eyes as he cupped your cheeks, which were dry, but he could tell you were upset and he was doing his best not to go out and get rid of everyone in your department. 

“I hit someone,” you said, and he found it adorable. There wasn’t much you could do wrong in his eyes. 

Clearly. 

“What’d they do to make that happen? I’ll kill them,” was his quick response before he cleared his throat. “I mean, I’ll talk to them about it.” His eyes drifted down to your blouse, his screen blinking and hands twitching on your face before they went to your blouse and began unbuttoning. He didn't say anything else, electricity zapping between his fingers as he fumbled with the buttons until he cursed and ripped the blouse open. The buttons clattered to the floor as he muttered, “I’ll get — get — get you a new one,” screen buffering and electricity zapping over his entire body. “Are you hurt?”

“I don’t think so.” You knew not to tell him how much it burned with the way he was reacting already. “Vox—“

“After I take care of you, you're going to point out who did this, and who watched it happen. Understood?” He knew you tried to spare your coworkers from his temper, but he wasn’t going to let that happen this time. 

“It’s happened before—“ A loud whir of electricity sounded as Vox’s screen flashed and blue jolts of electricity burst around him. You shrunk back at the overwhelming power, quickly telling him, “I’m fine–”

“You didn’t tell me?” His voice sounded electric, making you swallow as he removed his overcoat to use as a towel to pat your chest dry. He couldn’t even enjoy the sight of you at work, topless, when this was the reason. He watched the way you winced with every touch of his jacket on you, fingers sparking at the redness he could see beneath the coat. His body jolted and the overcoat immediately sparked fire. “Fuck!” He tossed it to the ground, stepping on it to put the fire out. 

“You need to relax,” you told him pointedly. “I’m fine. You’re overreacting.”

“You’re underreacting,” he said childishly, taking in a deep breath before going to a closet in the large room and grabbing a spare blouse for you and an overcoat for him. At the sight of the many things he had to give to you and spoil you with in there, he calmed only slightly. “Did you at least hit her hard?” He asked as he handed you the blouse. You hummed, nodding and making a very prideful smile come to his face as you buttoned up the blouse. “Do you like this one?” He asked quickly, his evident mood shift into wanting to please you making you chuckle. “It’s not as expensive as the one that cunt ruined,” you hummed along to satiate his ego, “but I thought you’d make it look good.” Before you could say anything, he continued. “I have some more I got for you; do you want to see those instead?”

“I like this one. You picked it.” His screen buffered as he cleared his throat, a pink glow on his cheeks that he quickly got rid of. When you noticed he began to relax, you took the opportunity of being in his office to your advantage, sweetly asking, “Can we have a moment together before you go down and fire half your company?”

“Anything you want, dear,” he said, much more cheerful than he was moments ago. “Do you want anything to eat? Drink? I’ll call something up.” He went to the desk at the end of the room as you went to the seating area and sat on the sofa. “Where should I order from?”

“Vox, you’re at work. You shouldn’t order anything,” you had to remind him of his own rules he set for himself. “They’ll see me here–”

“Are you wearing your ring?” He asked, speaking over you.

“I’m always wearing my ring.”

He nodded, looking down at his matching golden band. “Let them see.” In the moment you gave him to think, he’d come to the more rational conclusion that he wouldn't harm anyone. Just that he’d terrify them to death by making it known that you were not to be touched ever again. “I’ll make sure everyone knows who they decided to fuck with today.”

[weebsinstash]

Sitting here watching that clip of Valentino with that demon girl going "you're gorgeous! Do you need a job? 🥰" and started thinking of Val either intentionally or unintentionally making Reader feel massively insecure and ugly and Val using that to manipulate them

I've mentioned "oh what if your job is serving him drinks at his club" but what if he also starts dragging you along when he goes out like some kind of weird PA. Like he's just throwing random bills at you that he clearly isn't counting like it's pocket change in a very "yeah sure whatever just do it bitch" kind of way so you put up with it, it's good income, but it's still... WEIRD. He's going to get his antenna done at the salon, and you're like. Having to STAND THERE beside his chair, you're not even in the lobby waiting room, you've gotta be WITH HIM, and you just get all these windows into his cunty personality where he's spoiled and mean to service workers and is a total fucking diva and it's extremely off-putting I'm sure

He's in a night club hitting on people whose bodies are absolutely insane like I'm talking GYATT city, ass and titties, you've got twunks and you've got hunks, and you're like, in sneakers, off to the side, head down playing games on your phone since you can't even put earbuds in because you unfortunately have to keep an ear open since he'll order YOU to bring drinks, not just for him, but for these complete strangers who don't even work for him too, AND he'll let them be fucking mean to you. You bring some bubble butt twink who's on Val's arm the daiquiri he asked for and he gives you a very clear look up and down before laughing, cuddling up to Val, "yeah I can SEE you need new employees 😋" and they all laugh Including Fucking Valentino

I dunno, I'm on the fence. It really changes with the story. You get the yandere who are obsessive but more abusive-adjacent and then you have the more true-blooded kind that won't accept any slander of you at all. Like can you imagine Valentino's smile just dropping off his face because some chick like, tells you you have cellulite or even something MILD like your mascara is bad or idk what are, male insults.... you have a flat ass??? And Valentino just instantly shoves them away "okay you're done bye, let the door hit you on the way out 🤭"

But today we're talking about angst and feeling fucking miserable so. Over time it just, makes you feel so horrible about yourself to go to these nightclubs. It isn't even about fucking Valentino, it's about how you're sitting here watching everyone EXCEPT YOU receive all this fawning and compliments and attention, even if Val is faking some of it just to lure in more workers. You see a girl who has the perfect skin and you run fingers over an ice pick scar on your cheek, male reader sees a guy who's tall but muscular with nice facial hair and you feel your own baby face and smaller build, there are people thinner than you, curvier than you, stronger than you, smarter than you, and you watch all of them get called gorgeous and beautiful and handsome and sexy and you're just the fucking dweeb who gets teased, mocked, BULLIED

One night Valentino is sitting there talking to another girl, "oh my gosh, honey, I would TOTALLY do body shots off of you. Hey, can we get some shots over here? .... helllooooo, I SAID can we get some shots? ...bitch if you make me repeat myself again--" and he looks over and you're not even there. It's like ice. Suddenly without warning you're not there and he doesn't know what to do because you're ALWAYS there and whenever you're not it's because he LETS YOU leave??? Like??? He's immediately standing up even if it knocks away the people hanging off of him and he's looking around, "you BETTER be in the fucking bathroom--"

And over the crowd of people he sees you on the opposite end of the club, as if you were actively trying to put as much distance between you two as possible, and you're with a guy, some big furry monster boy, and you laugh with a big smile and Valentino GRINDS his teeth as he realizes it's been ages since you laughed around him, let alone at anything HE'S said, and you're actually drinking with this guy where you would always be way too stiff and cautious around Val (although he also really wouldn't let you drink anyways, being more of a waiter when you're 'on the clock')

Obsessed with the idea of Val making Reader carry around combs and brushes to comb his antenna/fur and Val sees you using them on another guy. like I think he'd go absolutely violently fucking crazy honestly because 1. Those are HIS and he is a bougie Gucci material man like those are high quality things being used on some RANDO 2. Those are for HIM, you're using them on someone ELSE 3. The person using them on someone else is YOU, YOU'RE brushing another man, YOU'RE cuddling another man like some kind of UNGRATEFUL WHORE--

When I say you suddenly look up and you're being GRABBED, HAULED UP to your feet by your arm, grip on you so tight it's ready to fucking bruise, and Val just shoots this guy in the head, like cartoonishly powerful gun just splatters the dudes head from what should have been just a single bullet hole I'm sure. You're like vaguely traumatized and trying to tell yourself the man will regenerate and be fine but now Valentino's got a gun in his hand and he's furious and you just start CRYING. He doesn't even CARE about the people he was flirting with anymore, if he has any employees in the club with him he doesn't even call out that it's time to go, he just starts DRAGGING YOU to the limo and will just LEAVE EVERYONE there because he's in such a rage, also, have you guys seen the posts where people point out there are moth squeaking effects when he speaks sometimes. So he's just fucking mad, voice cracking, shouting, squeaking, and i think it'd be funny if he spends like 15 minutes screaming about THE GUY while he has you like all but glued to his lap on the ride home and doesn't say a single thing about what you did. Just manic ranting on his phone as he HAS to call Vox, "oh my god you wouldn't FUCKING BELIEVE what this piece of shit did in front of me, the ugliest fucking guy I've ever seen was--" and you're like trembling wondering when he's going to pivot and realize like, you were also. Intentionally willingly sitting with that guy.

But he doesn't even like. Acknowledge it that way. He just keeps ranting about the guy touching something that doesn't belong to him, he's gotta replace all his fucking combs now, oh my GOD Vox like SERIOUSLY-- and then it's probably Vox that's like, with a disinterested voice, "sooooo.... WHICH whore did this happen to again???" And Valentino without hesitating just straight up says your name, "the nerdy one, you KNOW which one I'm talking about"

And that's when you just start to blubber cause you're tired and you're tipsy and you're mentally worn down, "oh OF COURSE I'm 'the nerdy one'!! You drag me all over the fucking place and I never get any time to myself and I have to WATCH everyone ELSE have fun, and when I finally find someone who calls ME cute, calls ME pretty, you fucking SHOOT HIM!" and you're just, face in your hands crying and you can't see it as Valentino GRINS like some fucking MONSTER because, "Aw, pobrecita, is that what this is about? You're lonely? ❤️w❤️"

And you're just mad and crying and pouting and you're telling him to go fuck himself and actually starting to get a little mouthy and have an attitude with him and he doesn't even care because how upset you're getting is going right to his head. even if you don't want to, you're jealous of him giving other people attention instead of you, and now he's watching you get all upset and sniffly over it and he's so full of himself, this makes him feel so powerful that he's reduced you to this insecure bawling state, and he's rubbing your shoulders, "awwww, don't cry mami, you should've told me you were wanting some 'attention'"

At this point you could be literally slapping his hands away but he's gonna keep pulling you close to him on purpose and NOW, now he's laying on all the fucking compliments, stroking the tops of your thighs. He knows exactly what scent you're using in your hair. Oh, you're wearing the nail polish you bought during one of your first months here; he's always liked this color on you. He's commenting and bringing up things you didn't expect him to notice let alone remember about you and... you're just so weak to it.... you're lonely... and he's here... and maybe it's the smoke or his cologne or what but he smells so good, he's so close, your head feels a little funny--

The rest of your night blurs together after that, but when you wake up, you're not at your place, or the studio, or anywhere you mildly recognize. You're in a bed way too big for someone your size, and you're especially not used to SOMEONE ELSE BEING IN IT WITH YOU. Val just has you caged in all of his arms and is passed out drooling in a post alcohol, post drug, post fuckathon coma, and you can FEEL in your muscles and in your body that you two were up to some wiiiiiild shit together.

IF you may manage to sneak out of V Tower without being stopped or caught, it won't make hin suddenly forget all the things you told him, or him now knowing how it feels to have your hands on his body, or how it looks to have your big sad wet eyes looking up at him and then sparkling with one of his compliments. Usually he WANTS bitches to be gone when he wakes up but, this time? When those eyes open and you're not there? Instantly feeling rejected, mad, irritated, he can't exactly identify why, he's just MAD you ran off without telling him and he's instantly blowing up your line to figure out where you are, and now you have become a recipient of The Voice-mails

"Heeeeeeey, baby, so, it's so funny but I just woke up and I can't find you in the tower? Did you run off to get breakfast somewhere? You KNOW you shouldn't run off without telling me first; I need you to come on back here ❤️"

"-- so answer your phone you fucking SLUT!! You better not be with another fucking guy, or I swear to fucking GOD--"

"--It just stresses me out that there are so many different kinds of people down here, I worry someone might hurt you, amorcito. I can't help protect you if I'm not there, soooooo, why don't you just, tell me where you are--"

"Is this fucking funny for you, you cunt?! You get all worked up about how PATHETIC AND SAD you are and then leave me? Leave ME? ME?! You're LUCKY i even TOUCHED YOU AT ALL--"

"Heeeeeeey, oh my gosh so this is so funny ummmm, Vox just let me know that Velvette borrowed you for something, soooooooooo, please don't listen to any of those other voicemails, ok? You know how CRAZY you make me, right? Don't forget you have a shift tonight, and if you even think about not showing up, I have some hellhounds that know your scent already and they'll drag you back here by your hair, sooooo, see you later love you byeeeeee ❤️"

[toast-on-dandelioms]

What if reader accidentally called superman "dad" while they were on a mission? Like Batman needed some help tracking down some new murder cult and thought Spider could help? But they wouldn't come unless superman wasnt there since Spider does NOT trust the batfam?

Ok so, I'mma make a scene with your idea and then say what it would happen. Just to then explain how the Batfam would react.

You were called with Clark to a mission, knowing the Batfam was there but you didn't care since you knew Clark would protect you from them.

Plus you made sure to grab two tasers this time and incorporated a new type of web fluid that could emit electricity when it hits someone.

You did create it so you didn't have to use a taser but also so you could tase anyone of the Batfam that would dare to get too close to you or even touch you during the mission.

Clark finally landed while you adjusted your mask since you took it off while you were flying to feel the air in your (long/short) hair.

You looked at the batfam, already annoyed when they didn't even do anything but just their presence was a source of anger and annoyance for you.

While the Batfam was also annoyed that Clark was there but he had to come or you wouldn't even consider going with them to a mission.

You didn't say anything to them, just giving them the blank stare your mask provided and just stayed next to Clark, listening to them talk about what everyone was supposed to do in the mission.

Bruce did try to make you go with him or any of his kids, making you nervous since you couldn't really refuse without any excuse. You did have one but you can't really say "I refuse to go with any of your kids (directed to Batman) because I hate all of you".

But Clark surprised you by refusing any option of you going with any on the Bats and stated that you would go with him, making you smile a little and lean a little on the kryptonian.

Which made all of the Bats jealous and angry at the kryptonian.

At the end you were supposed to go with Superman in the hideout of the cult, which you were happy about it and quickly followed the kryptonian while ignoring the glares of the Batfam that were directed towards Clark.

Well, during the mission you got separated from Superman in the fight against the cultist when they suddenly ambushed both of you, making you panic since you never fought so many people at once.

Yes you did fight small gangs but usually they were just kids and you just had to punch one and all of them backed down immediately. So fighting a large group of people that knew how to fight was a bit difficult and extremely different from what you're used to.

Plus your panic doubled when you saw Damian and Dick approaching, probably to help you but in the fight and the panic in your mind made them seem even more dangerous than the cultists trying to stab you.

So you did the only reasonable thing that your scared mind wanted. You called for Clark while fighting three cultists at the same time, tasing a few of them while fighting.

The problem? You accidentally called him dad.

Bruce Wayne: oh god how angry was he when he heard that from Dick and Damian's coms.

(He still doesn't know who you are behind the mask but already sees you as one of your kids even though you're already are)

He quickly finished fighting the leader and ran to where you were supposed to be, quickly knocking out anyone who was in his way.

He did kill a few of those in his way, but he made sure to hide the bodies and will deal with it later by burning down the hideout.

He finally arrived at the spot where you and the others were supposed to be and he saw something that made him want to grab his kryptonite batarang to hit Clark.

Why? He saw you in Clark's arms, hugging him with all your might while he flew so neither Dick and Damian could reach you.

Plus the worst thing was the sick smile Clark had in his smile, like he planned it. Like he knew you weren't ready to go in such a big mission and would probably call him in a panic.

Bruce just glared at the kryptonian and signaled him to get out with you so they could get rid of the rest of the cultists.

Basically Bruce would be a jealous bitch even though he doesn't care about you when you don't have the mask on, and would use his anger against all the cultists there since he blamed them instead of blaming himself.

Clark Kent: oh he would be so smug whenever he sees Bruce and you're not with him.

Especially since he planned it. He might not be as smart as the Batfam but he knows people and especially you.

He knew you weren't ready for such a big mission since you mostly trained with him and fought small gangs in Gotham.

He knew you would panic while fighting and knew you would call for him when you couldn't do it anymore.

The dad part was a surprise but a happy one for Clark, he became so smug when you jumped in his arms when he quickly flew to you.

He did see the glares he received from almost all the batkids and especially Batman, to which he responded with a smug smile while rubbing your back.

He left with you since you didn't want to stay and he also knew Bruce caught the leader so he didn't have any reasons to stay.

Not sure if you also wanted the Batkids but I didn't add them, just comment if you also want to have the batkids reaction and I will add it!

[fawnhunter]

cregan stark aka mr attitude adjustment.

sometimes cregan needs to check himself, and make sure ur good too

this is part of a series which at the moment also includes benjicot blackwood. if there's anyone you'd like to see done next please let me know! general NSFW content warning, talk of impregnation.

lalala cregan stark lalala tom taylor...can i just preface this by saying he causes the ultimate brain rot. i look at him and my brain just goes " big man in pelts and amour big man in pelts and-" anyway!

to me cregan stark is the physical embodiment of non sexual dominance. i mean we all know how well the men of the north treat their women, like they are queens even if they wear the crown or not. and being with the lord of winterfell himself only makes things better. He walks into a room and he demands control and attention, and when people see you his pretty little wife hanging off his arm it only makes him feel that much more powerful.

back to the n.s.d thing, lets just says he's a natural "father" figure. i can see him falling for someone who needs some... light correcting... are u following me. finding love with someone who may be a bit mouthy. who isn't afraid to look him in the face and disagree with him, to offer a different opinion from the other daft cunts int he room. someone who will watch him train, who will watch him knock new coming knights onto the ground without flinching away.

i just think he would find excitement in someone with a little fight in them. someone he can back into a corner with his body mass alone, looking down his nose at you no matter how much to try to stand tall in front of him. staring you down into submission until you don't have a peep left in you, giving him the talking space to tell you how exactly things are going to go from here on out. [nsfw]

its hard to imagine actual angry sex with cregan, a man made of honor like that would never try and apologize with his cock before he does so with his words. however, i can imagine jealous, possessive, and passionate sex with cregan after his honor towards you has been tested. maybe someone eludes to you having an hard time producing heirs, suggesting someone else. or maybe they have the audacity to marry you off or send you away for some sort of gain for winterfell. all of a sudden there's knocking on ur chamber doors, and ur being pushed into ur room instead of opening the door properly.

from there the evening existed entirely of hot and heavy breathing accompanied by his harsh grip moving along ur skin. he touches you with purpose, like he's trying to leave some sort of trace of him on ur skin. teeth biting into ur neck, the feeling similar to that of a wolfs fangs leaving bruises on ur skin after a harsh nip. if it was up to him he would've torn ur shift away from ur body and throw it into the fire, leaving you bare before his eyes for the rest of time. his war torn hands run up along whatever parts of you he can reach. his touches are desperate in the way he pushes you into the chaise, in way too much of a hurry to move both of you to the bed it seems. fingers prepping ur sweet cunt while muttering words of owners ship and adoration into ur neck. his hair tickles ur skin as you begin to claw at the part of him you can. its clumsy and desperate, the kind of intercourse where you know there's something he's trying to get off his chest but he just doesn't have the words to say it. its when he finally sheathes himself inside of you that he tells you all about the lords who dared to speak of you to his face. heavy girth pumping in and out of you while his voice gets louder and louder, crying out ur name over the sounds of lilted moans. making sure all the lords and ladies down the hall know that you won't be going anywhere. especially away from him.

this is my first work for cregan i love him so much that wolf of a man. my ask box is always open tbh i love to yap especially abt hotd

[twisted-broth]

Any of the boys you want do a challenge where (they aren't dating yet) but they are at a fair and they win a bear or a prize and s/o gives them a kiss on the cheek for how many they win and s/o says if they win 10 or more they will give them a kiss on the lips and spend a week together with just them (maybe show like if some did get the kiss and how they would react?) I thought this was cute lol

This has been sitting in my drafts for like a year so I just figured I would post the parts of it that were done.

Leave it to Crowley and Grim to get you into this situation. “Every dorm has to have a booth at the fair, prefect! Maybe you’ll even earn enough money to make some renovations to that shoddy old place!”

Crowley failed to take into consideration how making a carnival attraction costs money to be any good. Any cafe service would need more money and supplies than you could afford, a show would need more than two people, and a game would need prizes.

Grim is not one for bright ideas, but it would seem there was no other solution that wouldn’t cost all your food money for the month. So this is what it came to.

“Knock down all the pins and win a kiss on the cheek from Ramshackle’s prefect! Hit all three targets and he’ll give you a kiss on the lips!!!!”

It was probably in your top five most embarrassing moments of your life as your cat basically prostituted you at the top of his lungs. Surely no one would actually be enticed by a prize like that, right?

Trey

"You always manage to find a way to keep things interesting, don't you? For once I'm glad to be at a school mandated event."

Feels bad. Plays anyway.

No hard feelings, right?

He tells you that you have nothing to worry about, he's really a lousy shot anyway (as if he's not the best spelldrive player on Heartslabyul)

He easily knocks down the first two stacks, but misses the third

Maybe he missed, maybe he found it in his heart to show you mercy

He not-so-subtly implies that he's sure he could find a different way to win the "grand prize"

Despite his big talk, he still has a noticeable blush when you give him a kiss on the cheek

He would also keep an eye on your booth for the rest of the day to make sure not too many people are winning

For your sake, of course

Jade

“It would seem you’ve found yourself in quite the situation there, prefect. Please find it in your heart to forgive me if I take advantage.”

This is the funniest shit Jade has ever seen

How stupid do you honestly have to be to get yourself into this predicament?

Of course he’s playing the game. The scowl on your face when he trades in his tickets to Grim for three baseballs fills him with unbridled delight

His aim is a little wonky and you sigh in relief when his first three balls miss the target

He feigns disappointment before handing over another few tickets to the cat and grabbing the balls again

Of course he was hustling you. He let you think that even for a second you would be safe from this menace. For shame

Each ball is thrown with such force that pins from the first stack fly into the other stacks, easily ensuring that Jade clears the game with ease

He calls it beginners luck. Asshole.

Has the biggest shit eating grin on his face as he leans down to your face to claim his prize

Rook

"Mon amour, what a dastardly situation you've been resigned to! Not to worry sweet dame, I shall save you from the beasts at your heels!"

You knew you were in trouble the minute Rook’s gaze happened to fall on your stall

His eyes narrow and he smirks as he makes his way over to the stall

He's visibly holding back his excitement as he trades his tickets in to Grim

His idea of "saving you" is to hog the game- and the prize- for himself

He hits every stack with effortless accuracy, game after game

The second all three stacks have been knocked down, he prances over to you and leans down for his kiss. You can practically see the flower emojis radiating off his satisfied smile

This will continue until Grim gets fed up with him scaring away customers, or Vil comes to drag him away

You got so used to kissing him that you almost do it again the next time he leans down to talk to you

[togenabi]

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.

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡

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 ? 👀

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: Dry Humping w/ Spencer Reid

a/n: HEY HEY HEY!! so i am fully aware that spencer was a child during college, so this is an alternative universe where he's of the college age 💀 this is basically season one spencer cause i wanna eat him!!

masterlist | kinktober masterlist | AO3

You didn't like how the other girls in the circle were looking at him. Their lustful eyes eating up a very nervous Spencer, the man playing with his fingers anxiously.

It was obvious that he wasn't used to being in places like this; where everyone was drunk, high or both, couples and randoms making out and practically fucking in every dark corner of the room. You never thought that you'd see The Spencer Reid, your college campus' genius, sitting in a spin the bottle circle in a random frat house.

You had no idea who convinced the poor boy that doing this was a good idea, but you would be damned if any other one of these girls were to get their hands on him. You liked him first — not just liked him — you claimed him. Everyone in your group knew that you liked him, so the fact that they had the fucking gall to look at him that way knowing you were there pissed you off.

"Alright, everybody!" A random bro shouted from on top of one of the dining room tables. "We were going to play Spin The Bottle, but I figured it'd be better if we play Seven Minutes in Heaven, seeing as though we have a special guest here with us tonight."

You knew exactly who he was talking about, and as your eyes lifted to look at Spencer, his gaze was already settled on you, but once he saw you were looking at him, he looked away bashfully. His face flushed a pretty red and so did his ears, and you could practically see the blood threatening to spill from his cuticles as he picked at them.

Your eyes narrowed at the jock angrily, every part of your body yelling at you to tend to Spencer.

But you swallowed it down.

A large group of people gathered around, and then the first spin of the night began. People were gleefully coming and going from the closet, a few of the couples manipulating the bottle so that it landed on them.

"Oh, shit!" One of the frat bros called out loudly. You looked curiously to see all eyes locked on you and Spencer, the tip pointing at you and the end pointing at him.

You must admit, you were a bit… known… around school. You wouldn't say you were popular, now that was a bit childish, but you definitely had connections in a couple different places.

The poor man looked almost frantic, looking at you then looking back down, almost as if saying you didn't have to. Oh, but you did.

"Seven minutes, pretty boy. C'mon." You said as you got up. His eyes were as big as saucers, his mouth gaping akin to like a fish would. You straightened your tight dress, reaching out a well manicured hand.

"If you want this to be over sooner then get up." You whispered sternly. He scrambled to interlock your fingers, and you lead him to the closet that was already significantly hot from the amount of bodies that had been in there already.

"We don't have to do anything you don't want to." You reassured. "No, no… I-I want to, it's just…" He babbled, wringing his hands. "It's just what?" You pushed, stepping closer to him. He gulped, backing up slightly and knocking into the shelves behind him.

"I just don't know how." He didn't know how to make you feel good, how to pleasure you. He was embarrassed to admit to the girl that he liked, who was also totally out of his league, that he was a virgin.

"Why did you come here, then?" You questioned with a slight smirk. "Because… because you were here and I wanted to uh- maybe- I don't know-" You cupped his face, stroking his cheeks.

"Kiss me then, Spence."

"Wh- what?!" He stuttered.

"I said," You spoke, your lips brushing against his, "Kiss me." He gulped, looking down at your lips back up to your eyes, then back down to your lips again.

"Okay." He breathed.

He leaned forward, albeit hesitantly, and pressed your lips together. It started out slow, but with a lot of coaxing from you, he got comfortable. Your lips moved in tandem as the room heated up. You had no idea what had come over you when you placed both of his hands on your ass.

"Touch me." You breathed heavily. Your breasts pressed tauntingly into his chest, his cock hardening embarrassingly fast. "Are you sure?" You nodded. "Please."

He tested the waters with a light squeeze before shoving your hips together. His body stuttered as a loud whine fell from his mouth. You could feel his bulge against your plush body and Spencer wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole.

"Sorry, sorry." His apologies were frantic, but your nerves burned with need. "I'm fine with you grinding on me, baby." You reassured. "In fact, I like it." Normally, you wouldn't say you carried a dominating energy with you, but it was like you wanted to swallow the poor boy whole.

"Oh, God." He whimpered, but nonetheless joined your lips back together. You slipped your plush thigh through his legs, pressing it on his cock.

His hips jutted out, and you swallowed his cry. His grips on your ass turned deathly as he humped your leg like a bitch in heat.

"That feel good?" You cooed, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

He nodded fastly, his lips pressed together and his eyes closed. He was lost in the feeling of the friction, perspiration beading on his hairline. You practially eat the sight of his deep red face up.

"You're mine. Alright, pretty boy?" You asked ferociously. You wrentched his head back, sinking your teeth into the sensitive skin of his neck. He nodded. "Say it." He yelped when you nipped at his adams apple.

"I'm yours, fuck- all yours!"

Your stomach twisted with a pleasant warm feeling, which only increased rapidly which you felt his thrusts grow sloppy.

"You gonna cum, honey?" You asked through your marking. "Yes, yes, yes…" He babbled. "Good. Cum all over me." He let out one last loud moan before you felt the warmth of spend seep out and onto the hem of your dress.

There was a knock on the door.

"Okay, lovebirds. Time's up!"

You smirked at the fact that Spencer was shaking like a leaf in your hold.

"After this, we are so going to my dorm." You claimed. "Yes! Yeah, yeah… yes, please." He all but shouted.

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[yuff7e]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ tanjiro, inosuke, & zenitsu bf headcanons !! gender neutral reader

the cuties song -> www.spotify.com

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ tanjiro !!

- literally the cutest ever.

- he’s soso respectful and genuine

- if you want a boy that will genuinely listen to you and how you feel about certain things, get a tanjiro.

- he deserves sm love and he’d definitely put you in his top priorities while also making sure you weren’t getting hurt in the process !!

- he’s a big fan of physical touch, so if you’re also training to be a hashira don’t be surprised when everytime he passes you he brushes his hand up against yours. (HES SO CUTE IMA EAT HIM)

- WILL defend you.

- like if someone’s talking bad about you he’s walking right up to them with no fear

- of course, he isn’t aggressive so he would handle the situation calmly

- “why are you saying that about [name]-sama? did they do something to you?”

- will purposely choose you each time they get to pick who they want to train with, and will get a little jelly if u don’t pick him

- but it’s fine !! as long as he sees you happy he’s happy.

- you’re one of the people he trusts with nezuko during the daytime, and will let you carry her box if you ask

- he enjoys seeing you and his sister spending time together, he feels like you’re genuinely apart of his family

- he finds comfort in you when he’s missing his family, and isn’t ashamed to cry or show his true emotions infront of you

- he likes it when you hang out with inosuke and zenitsu too, but gets a little embarrassed if they act weird.

- like, if zenitsu starts flirting with you or inosuke starts screaming like a grizzly bear

- he knows you wouldn’t judge him though, he just wishes his friends acted cooler around you !! because … you’re so cool !!

- “i want to be with you forever, [name]-chan.”

—

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ inosuke !!

- ohh boy, you got this man’s attention.

- if you seriously got him to like you and date you, you’re the one and you don’t have a choice

- you’re definitely his top priority besides defeating muzan

- like genuinely you’re right up there, you’re over his basic needs like eating and sleeping

- he can get a little flustered if you’re a fan of physical touch and decide to touch him in front of tanjiro or zenitsu

- but he secretly loves it, although he’d never tell you that !! (just kidding, he absolutely would but would make you swear to never tell anyone)

- WILL flex infront of you during training, especially his arm and back muscles. since he’s so flexible he’d show that off too

- “hey babe check this out!” (cue him spinning on his head, crashing into 4 different hashiras and getting in trouble)

- he’d have those moments where he’d just stare at you and gawk, not even in a weird way but genuinely just because he likes you so much

- like you’re so attractive !! and nice !! and… amazing !!

- if you were as flexible and strong as him just know he’d be picking you and training everyday and not hold back

- like he’d throw you over his head and if you lost he’d laugh at you, but if you win and knock him over your head he’d be head over heels

- he loves it when you beat him, which sounds crazy considering the fact inosuke is a pretty sore loser .. but when it comes to you and seeing how strong you are he’s so impressed

- that was one of the main reasons he started to like you

- you’re basically his idol, and that MEANS SOMETHIMG BRO !!!! RAAHGG !!

- i think his love language would be gift giving, hes definitely showing up to the demon corps with a pretty rock he found and putting it on your nightstand and wait for you to notice

- “inosuke! did you get me this?”

- “no”

—

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ zenitsu !!

- such a flirt we already know this

- but, he’s also extremely respectful

- he has pretty bad self control but if he genuinely likes you and who you are instead of just what you look like he’s actually a great guy

- he’s the definition of if he wanted to he would

- like, if you’re sad he’d get you 3 bouquets of roses and the other 3 would be outside because he couldn’t carry them all

- “zenitsuu!! you didn’t have to do that!!”

- “if it’s for my lady/man i’d do anything!!”

- his love language is love in any form

- physical touch, gift giving, words of affirmation

- but omg does this boy needs words of affirmation

- there’s a big part of him that feels unworthy of your love, like - you seriously love him? no way.

- will wake up with a HUGE smile on his face every morning with you being the first thing on his mind

- would beg to share a room with you alone, not for anything weird (although zenitsu is lowkey so weird) he genuinely doesn’t want his friends to see you sleeping (╥﹏╥)

- he gets so jelly over every single thing, like - why do inosuke and tanjiro get to see you sleeping?! in your purest form!! ahhhhh!!

- would pick you every time during training and if you pick someone else he’s begging you to train with him until you finally give in and train with him

- if not and you’re adamant on training with somebody else he’s giving that person a death stare the whole time, no exceptions

- unless you tell him to stop, he’ll try - but he can’t help himself… you’re just so amazing

- he always talks to you about yalls future together and will actually get emotional as he speaks, holding onto your hands as he speaks about how yall are going to have 5 kids and a big house

- “i love you so much [name]-chan!!! i want you to marry me!!!”

—

yay that’s it !! thx for reading guys :3 i might do the other hashiras next, but if anyone has any demon slayer requests PLEASE send them in, demon slayer is one of my biggest interests right now and i will go OFF while writing for you guys !! send em in !!

REQUESTS : OPEN