#but if it strikes anyone else's fancy: it's yours!

[gardenerian]

wowowweee! tagged by @spoonfulstar @mmmichyyy @energievie @metalheadmickey @creepkinginc @thatoneao3author to do this cute AU tag game! thanks pals 💓

rules (more or less): use this au generator to assign you an au, this fan fiction trope generator to give you a trope/situation/sometimes another au, feel free to keep clicking until you get something that inspires you.

then try to come up with the title, plot, vibe, and details of a fic including whatever the generators gave you. you don’t actually have to write it, just put the concept into the world! this is basically just a thought experiment.

au generator gave me: 1930s ‎AU

fic trope generator gave me: show your kinder character snapping

(NGL the first time i attempted this, i got american revolution AU and then who framed roger rabbit AU??? so i skipped those 😇)

title: idk?? i am bad at this. probably some line from rye whiskey?

let's plot:

alright. i'm thinkin' bootlegging AU? so it's pre-1933, when prohibition was repealed.

the gallaghers and the milkoviches are rival families on the bootlegged alcohol market. the gallaghers have less control/impact, but they're scrappy and making their way. the milkoviches are more dominant - and fuckin mean.

the gallagher operation started as a way for frank to just keep drinking during prohibition, but the older kids have kinda taken over as they've started making actual money. their main situation is a speakeasy with alcohol run in from all those irish canadians up north.

lip makes the deals and bribes people to keep the feds off their back, fiona manages the money and their other side ventures, and ian handles day to day at their bar.

meanwhile, the milkovich family has a big network of illinois moonshiners doing their bidding. they're all up in the organized crime network, and terry is starting to catch wind of lip's efforts at moving the gallaghers up in the world.

mickey, who is ultimately the brains of the milkovich crime empire, is tasked with bringing the gallaghers down. he and his brothers start scoping them out. this includes checking out the speakeasy. the milkovich brothers want to just go in and shoot everyone asjkh but mickey thinks it would be better to seize control and threaten the gallaghers into joining their operation. basically, he wants to make them work for him. and take all their money 😇

so they go to the speakeasy to take a look around - and god damn it, mickey is into the place. it's seedy and dark but vibrant and everyone is free to be themselves. there are artists and union guys alike, and the redhead tending bar winks at him as he passes him a whiskey.

so mickey keeps going back without his brothers, and tells himself over and over it's for the job. but soon enough he and ian are just... friends? people with a bond? mickey feels more at ease in ian's bar than he ever has anywhere else. ian makes him feel special, like there's more to him than violence and power.

and one night..... mickey stays late? until after ian closes up? maybe things happen? 👀

but the secret has to come out. terry grows impatient with the whole thing, and sends the brothers back in. mickey comes in the next night to find the whole place wrecked. ian is behind the bar alone, injured and desperately trying to find the stash of cash they kept hidden behind the bar.

the milkovich brothers definitely stole the money, their stores of booze, and destroyed the place. and told ian, after beating the shit out of him, that they'd be back soon to start collecting.

mickey is PISSED and tries to help ian/patch him up/calm him down. ian is panicked about the money, about the milkoviches coming back, about them finding his family - and mickey says he can help. when ian is like "??? how???" mickey finally spills the secret.

and this is where ian snaps. he knew mickey was into some shady shit but he did nOT know that he was part of the family that just wrecked his livelihood. especially after what just happened between them, ian feels betrayed, thinking that mickey sold him out.

mickey goes away, hurt and bitter and angry, while the gallaghers try to piece their shit back together. no one fucks with the gallaghers, etc; so what fiona and lip ultimately decide to do is expand and fight back. they team up with kev and v, who own another speakeasy we all might know 👀

and i am thinking that mickey tries to turn things around from the inside? he manages to get ian to meet up with him by the docks 😇 there is a similar scene where ian is both pissed and horny 😇 a reunion is had 😇 and a plan is made 😈

mickey says he's starting a money laundering scheme but he ends up funneling cash and booze into the gallagher operation to help them rebuild. i assume this is eventually found out once the gallaghers start taking more control? violent confrontation occurs, etc etc etc terry finally dies, someone probably takes a bullet for the other, but all is of course well in the end. the milkovich brothers scatter after terry is gone, off to start their own empires in other cities.

the gallaghers run their free spirited lil speakeasies even after prohibition ends, but ian and mickey probably back off after a while. maybe they find something a little quieter to do? tomatoes, etc. 😇

THE END

i am late to this so skipping the tags but if you have not done this and want to give it a go, please do!!! it's fun!

[endless-ineffabilities]

the sapphire and his sun

Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

Musings about Aemond Targaryen and the only one he truly needs. His one true hope and love. His beloved wife.

a/n : i had to write something after that episode! holy Aemond! This pretty much wrote itself and I could expand it in the future ~ if inspiration strikes true!

word count : <2k ▪︎ masterlist

Aemond used to think his only solace was himself.

His mother had never been much of a mother in her own right, too muddled in the web of deceit that she and Otto spin at their fancy. Criston posited as something of a father figure, but his true loyalty is to his Queen. His brother has always been a wastrel, and his sister wasting away in her own mind.

Aemond never had anyone. Not truly.

Until you.

He still remembers the day you walked into his life, a lone ray of sunlight breaking through the clouds of stormy grey. You appeared to be a frail-hearted young lady, eager to please and to be a devoted wife to her prince. All the while he saw your spirit dimmed from being offered by her House to be Prince Aemond's newly betrothed.

All to secure an alliance.

There was no promise of loyalty or love. Being the prince, he is able to take into bed any whore he wishes. But one look at you - just the one - and all thought of any other lover vanished from his mind.

The first night he was supposed to take you to bed and consummate your marriage, the meek cast in your eyes had disappeared, and in its place a defiant glint he hadn't seen before.

"If I am to be used by my prince, I will do it with the remaining shred of my dignity. I will not cry, I will not beg for a life I have already lost. If all that I am now is a vessel for duty, then so be it." You looked at him, as if for the first time, and with the flames dancing across your face, Aemond would remember that moment as when his sun first shone down on him.

He felt his anger flare for but a moment, his constant fear of being betrayed taking over him. Had everything been an act? Was this to be a marriage of unpleasantry and resentment?

But it quickly dawned on him that the act - the betrayal - was that if his wife was willing to play a fool and dance under his strings like some marionette.

He preferred this. He preferred you.

"Mayhaps I will not bed you tonight, my lady wife. Not yet," he had said, your face slowly twisting in surprise. "I will let you keep more than just your dignity, for you will also possess the choice. Trust that it is only for the time being, at least, until it is imperative that I produce an heir. From this moment forward, I swear to take no else to bed as it is my oath as your husband."

He watched the minute switches in your expression. The wariness. The confusion. The relief. And he already felt it then, as silly as the notion might be, that you had recognised who he really was and that you accepted him.

Aemond was no scoundrel. He wasn't a villain in your story. He wasn't some mighty, untouchable prince.

He was a boy. He was now your husband. He had decency. He had a heart.

And you may not have yet realised, but this heart - wretched as it might have been - he was surrendering it to you.

With the turn of the moon came ill tidings - the death of his father Viserys. Although he was also not much of a father to begin with. Aemond felt numb to it all and there was no time for any emotion to take root, for the conspiracy festered like an open wound. His brother was to be made king.

"Must you go and find him?" you asked. "What if something were to happen?"

He had been blank and unfeeling, unsure of what to make his father's passing. But then, some warmth bloomed in him at your concern. His darling wife cared. He hadn't yet been allowed to indulge in the pleasures of your flesh, but your nights were filled with conversation and confiding.

He took your hands and pressed a kiss atop each one. "It is I who understands Aegon's doings, my wife. Ser Criston is in need of my aid. My brother would sooner sail away than fulfil his duty, which is why he must return at all cost."

"Let him sail away. Let him go and live as he pleases, husband. He never possessed the temperament of a king. You on the other hand... "

His father is dead. His brother could be gone. The enemy encroaches.

But gods be damned, you believed in him.

Aemond didn't know for certain what happiness felt like, he'd never had a single taste of it. And how morbid it was for him to possibly feel it then. But...

"You would make a far better ruler than anyone, and I don't just say that because I am your wife."

Happiness. How fascinating.

How utterly... simple.

For he realised that he had felt it before. Not even in grand moments, no, but in the littlest of things.

He had felt it when you once laughed in pure bliss when he first rode with you atop Vhagar.

When you would help fasten him into his training armour.

When he would watch as you read one of your stories.

His happiness was standing right in front of him. His ray of light, his sun.

And his sun persisted even when he singlehandedly cast the realm into macabre blacks and greens.

Shaken and despondent, he stumbled into your chambers to deliver the news to you first. In the passing hour, everything will change. Will you turn on him too?

"It was an accident," he confessed. "I thought I could control Vhagar, but... she is her own beast. She always has been. I admit I was angry and it was my folly to seek vengeance, but I did not mean to... " His voice broke, and he felt your finger wipe at something wet from his cheek.

He did not even notice that he was crying.

You still said nothing, so he grew frightful. What if nothing he said would ever be enough? No explanation, no apology. He can't lose his light.

"I never held any love for him," he carried on painfully, "but he was my blood. And I... I just - "

"It wasn't your fault, Aemond."

A ray of hope. A remaining strength.

You repeat, "I believe you, and it wasn't your fault."

It mattered not whether his mother would shun him, or his grandsire would frown upon his gruesome action. Rhaenyra was coming for him, as sure as dragonfire, and he would soon have to face the consequences of his actions.

But none of that worried him, not then.

He had to stay alive, however he can, so that he can protect you. It was not remiss of him to overlook that the ladywife of Lucerys' apparent murderer would also have a target on her back.

Aemond knew that the fight was inevitable, and he was going to win it. For you.

In tears, in love, in pale shades of grief, he kissed you with everything he had in him.

A solemn promise. A declaration of love.

"No one shall know the truth of it, my love."

"What do you mean?"

"They will not know, but you will. And that is all that matters. There is no stopping it now and I must face the war head on. What the realm will come to accept is that I intended to fell my nephew and that I do not regret doing so. They have to fear me. This is how I can keep you safe."

"Aemond - "

"Do you trust me?"

The only thing that mattered, the one answer that decided whether he bent or broke. The Seven Kingdoms were to be covered in gloom and shadow, its fields marred with blood and many a broken bone.

His world, however - his world still had light.

"I trust you. With everything I have, I do."

To be tagged in Aemond or Daemon fics, comment on this post !

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Alastor - [TOUCH STARVED]

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A/N: Photo/Fanart Credit to @/Nyer_roth on Twitter (hiatus)

[ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ FEM/CAT HYBRID DEMON READER ]

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Touch Starved Alastor prefers your presence over anyone else’s in the Hotel. His shadows linger by your side if he’s not physically there and when he is it’s quite obvious to everyone how closely the Radio Demon is guarding you.

No one dares to breathe a word about his behavior but the moment he’s out of sight or ear shot Angel will tease you endlessly. “Seems you have Mr. Fancy Creep wrapped round your little finger, toots.” Your face flushes ten shades of red as the spider demon nudges your side while giggling at your flustered reaction. He knows -well everyone knows how you feel about Alastor- but you’ve made it a point to never let the overload onto your attraction to him.

Even if he already is aware of it…

Angel’s teasing doesn’t help your little crush dissolve as you wished it would, so with a huff and a rushed whisper you excuse yourself from the group. “N-no I don’t Angel and…I’m heading to bed. Goodnight…” Angle snickers at your deliberate deflecting, but says nothing else as you waltz up the staircase, barely listening to Charlie yelling “good night” to you, and failing to notice the dark mass of spectrums trailing your every step.

Touch Starved Alastor listens in on those pesky conversations the others have when it comes to you and him. You’re always so skittish and docile under their prying, blushing at the slightest implication of his attention being on you, and to say it intrigues him would be an understatement. Alastor isn’t one to entertain those who show him affection, let alone acknowledge it, but when it comes to you the overload’s mind runs rampant with devious desires. At first he ignores them, content with keeping your connection to him cordial, and that works for a time.

It doesn’t last forever though.

Especially when you unconsciously tend to him so reverently. You’re a people pleaser by nature -he’s sure of that- but the immediate stars in your eyes whenever he instructs you to do something strikes just the right nerve for him.

It’s always the simplest things, tedious tasks he burdens you with just to see your eagerness to please him on repeat, “My dear, would you be so kind as to hand me that book over there?” Your head lifts, hopeful eyes staring at him as you nod with a genuine smile, “Of course!” You chirp, walking right over to the bookshelf without question to acquire the item, and Alastor watches your every move.

The flutter of your lashes as you pinpoint the object, how you stand on your tip toes to reach it, and the gentle sway of your hair as you finally grasp the book. You’re so sweet, so gentle with everything, and Alastor spends hours trying to stop himself from thinking about your tender embrace being spared his way.

Touch Starved Alastor starts to lock himself in his room or radio tower more often than usual when he can’t seem to keep his distance. His shadows still lord over you but are never seen which makes it that much easier for him to watch you from afar.

His sudden disappearance and lack of socializing affects you heavily. You don’t smile as much and when you do the light in your eyes wanes. You’re still kind to everyone, but choose to sit alone during group activities, or wander the halls humming to avoid them all together.

Alastor takes notice of every frown adorning your face when someone mentions him or inquires as to where he is and for a split second guilt creeps its way into him seeing your energetic mood dwindle at his hands.

He can’t let this go on forever, not when you look so betrayed at the sound of his name, and mindlessly wander towards his empty room every night as if to check on him just to leave in fear of embarrassment.

Enough is enough.

Touch Starved Alastor finds you alone on a rare stormy night in Hell, an old book opened up to your curious eyes as you lay flat on your front across the parlor’s couch. He watches you from the shadows for a long while, studying the slight scrunch of your nose as your gaze happens open a certain line of text, and the way you gently kick your feet as your chin rests on the back of your hands.

He’s seen and met a mass amount of beings in his time in hell and not one has ever emitted anything close to your ethereal beauty. You swear you’re not a fallen angel to anyone who asks and it baffles him how a soul so light could end up here.

Unruly luck….maybe?

Fate, possibly?

He’ll figure it out one way or another.

“Hello, my dear, late night reading I see…” Alastors voice grasps your attention immediately, his usual staticky tone leaning towards normality as you peer up at him with a growing smile. “Yes…I couldn’t sleep,” you respond quietly, relatively shy around the overload, and trying hard not to seem overexcited to see him. You missed Alastor dearly the past few days but it would be embarrassing to show that longing outright….

The deer demon picked up on your excitement right away despite your attempts at casualness, his smile softening as you held his stare and bit your lip. Delicate fanged canines poking out just enough to prick your lower lip.

How adorable, Alastor inwardly muses at your nervous habit and continues with his light hearted interrogation. “Hm, I suppose a restless night can have that effect. ..Would you mind if I joined you then, darling?”

Touch Starved Alastor is elated when you nod gently, shifting to sit up properly, and give him a space beside you. “Of course Alastor…it gets lonely staying up by yourself. I’d appreciate the company.” Your sweet tone dazes him for a moment as he sits next to you, unconsciously disregarding his aversion to interpersonal space…

Odd…

He never situates himself this close to you, always looming, but never actively seeking your side. It’s strange to you at first but as he visibly relaxes you don’t mind the deliberate position he’s taken.

He could very well be tired or you might be hallucinating that he was putting an arm around your shoulders.

Either option didn’t ease the rapid pace of your heartbeat..

Alastor was careful with you, incredibly gentle as he pulled you to his side, and rested his chin on the top of your head. “Such a sweetheart you are, my dear.” He speaks quietly, oddly calm as you hum in agreement, your soft ears flattening as you breathe in his scent.

A smidge of brimstone mixed with the aroma bourbon and pine.

He smelled just like a lovely forest, a secure scent you wouldn’t mind getting used to, and tried to commit it to memory just in case Alastor never let you get this close to him again.

Touch Starved Alastor chuckles lowly when you breathe him in, finding your feline tendencies endearing, and listening to your soft purring become a vocal indicator of how comfortable you felt with him. You’d long forgotten the book, nuzzling your head under Alastor’s chin instead, getting lost in your innocent desire to be under him, and he makes no move to stop you.

If anything the radio demon welcomes your touch, sliding you onto his lap with ease, and that never ending smile of his becoming genuine when you absentmindedly compliment him. “…You smell…sweet,” you hum, speaking more to yourself than him, but he hears you and responds promptly. “Is that so, darling?”

You nod, head lifting to stare up at him through your lashes, “Mhm…I missed it..I…” you pause, face flushing red as the deer demon peers back at you, red eyes glinting with dormant affection as he studies your expressions.

“Come now, use your words dear…” he reassures you his patience isn’t waning with a gentle hum.

Alastor is tempted to watch your plush lips move as you struggle to speak up but it’s hard to resist when you finally whisper a confession -one you think he’ll be off put by…

“W-well I missed you entirely Alastor… a lot actually.” And there you go again, eyes wide with apprehensive hope, and ever present adoration. He’d felt his fair share of adrenaline rushes, experienced the “blood rushing to your head” urges that sinners and demons alike couldn’t resist, and though Alastor prided himself in remaining in control of such things…

You brought them out of him without even trying.

Ridiculous, truly…but the longer you fawned over him the less cordiality Alastor maintained.

Touch Starved Alastor lets his smile soften, deeply appreciating your timid vulnerability, and much to your relief he lets you know it. “Missed me? Well, I must have quite the effect on you to instill such a sentiment,” His tone is abundantly softer than usual, quietly echoing in the hotels parlor, and tickling the nerves in your ears.

They perk up along with your tail as he rests his hands on your waist, pulling you impossibly close until the only proper place you can latch your hands onto is the back of the carved mahogany frame of the couch. “Al…” you sigh softly, eyes fluttering shut as his grip on you tightens a tad in response.

When had he gotten so touchy? Better yet, why?

All logical questions that you were asking yourself weren’t granted answers as the overlord inhaled heavily. Breathing you in just as you’d done to him moments ago.

Your unsteady pulse, rising lust, slight confusion, and underlying fear of him coursing through your veins in waves. Alastor identified each emotion, practically tasting them on his tongue, and his hunger rose again from it.

He could just eat you alive at this rate and from the whine you let out as he trailed his hands down to your thighs, claws ripping right through the sheer white thigh high socks you’d paired with a modestly short nightgown made it abundantly clear to him you wouldn’t mind if he did.

How sweet you’d taste?

How the shaky whines you were letting out now could turn to bashful screams?

How sickeningly perfect you’d look broken, bloody, and marked by him and him alone?

He’d wondered about these things constantly…feverishly…

Touch Starved Alastor lets his mirage of being a “true gentleman” dissipate entirely when you subconsciously roll your hips down on him for much needed friction -and in an attempt to dissolve the pain his scratches on your skin brought.

Fuck. This. Alastor curses himself, swiftly repositioning you both in a blink of an eye. Your back hits the velvet cushions with a gentle ‘thud’, earning a soft gasp on your part that’s inevitably silenced by one of his shadows wrapping around your mouth, and another gingerly snaking round your waist. He chuckles as you squirm underneath him, clearly wanting to be in control of your own body, but what would you ever need that autonomy for?

He’s here for a reason, right?

Why grant you more agency than required?

“Comfortable, my dear?” The leering stag above you chides, grin wide as you groan in frustration, eyes sliding shut as he slips between your parted legs. His red irises show brighter as your lower halves press flush against each other and you shudder from the contact -inwardly congratulating yourself for not wearing much underneath your nightdress to begin with.

Alastor allowed your hands to reach for him, your delicate claws gripping his suit collar as firmly as possible, tugging him lower as you shifted under his weight to grind against him. “Patience is a virtue, sweetheart,” he half reprimands half teases as your bare slit passes over the crotch of his black dress pants. There was no doubt your slick was leaving a stain and if it were anyone else -in any other situation- Alastor would’ve had their head for ruining his attire.

Luckily, you were to receive anything but his wrath.

How fortunate…

Touch Starved Alastor feels himself going mad when you mindlessly use any part of him you can reach as a bid for more pleasure. Eyes watering, begging him to touch you, help you, and it’s one hell of a sight to see in his opinion. “Desperate aren’t we, darling?” His cooing drives you insane, large hands wandering under your nightgown to trace your warm skin -not helping your dazed state at all.

Alastor purposefully claws at your body, placing surface level scars on it, letting the small droplets of blood that escape his cuts paint your skin and his fingertips. You struggle every soften, train of thought lagging as pain and pleasure start to intertwine.

“….please don’t stop..”

“What a sick & twisted little thing you are..”

Tears run down your face, drool dripping from the corner of your lips, and your cunt leaking all over him and sofa. Blood starts to seep through your nightdress in random streaks and it’s only then that Alastor decide it’s redundant to keep it on you. “Let’s get rid of this, shall we?” That’s all the warning you get from the radio demon before you feel his claws shred it to pieces.

Thank heavens you hadn’t chosen your favorite one tonight or you’d be devastated…

“Much, much better, ma chère,” Alastor praises you as if the task was at your own hands -and to some degree it was for letting him get this far- and yet your face flushes a deep shade of red as you nod in agreement.

The shadowy tentacle covering your mouth tightens its grip, shifting sharply to expose your neck to him, and Alastor seizes the opening immediately. Taking his time finding your sensitive spots, marking them with his teeth and tongue until there’s dark bruises left behind, and you nearly came undone from the relentless precision of love bites he inflicts on you.

Touch Starved Alastor allows your hands wander wherever they please, quite taken with the feeling of your dainty claws raking down his back, or shifting up to pet his ears. They flicker about at your touch, ever so sensitive, and heightening the pleasure he gets from torturing you. Every sound you make, the shuddering moans against his lips, and the muffled cries that build in your chest when Alastor toys with you muddles his focus further.

Bit by bit you’re chipping away at his sanity by simply enjoying his caress and offering him yours.

Alastor isn’t one to succumb to pleading easily but when you’re given the chance to use your voice and beg for release without a second thought….he hasn’t got the gall to deny you.

Not when you’re looking up at him like you might die if he denies you, so worked up that you stutter, and shake uncontrollably.

“N-need to….p-please let me…come,” you whine as quietly as possible, ears laying flat on your head as he hums melodically in false consideration for your plight.

It’s fueling his already massive ego that you’re poised to come undone when he’s barely done a thing to you and he has half the mind to pull away and watch you fall to pieces…

You’d surely give him a show then, pouting helplessly, or cowering from embarrassment realizing how much of a mess you’ve made of yourself for him.

It’d be pure entertainment.

However, why waste a prime opportunity to see you utterly satisfied by him?

By his mere presence even.

The deer demon refuses to pass up such a rare occurrence, flipping your position again so your smaller frame sits atop his larger one. “F-fuck..” you hiss as you settle on top of him, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he guides your hips to keep riding him at a rough but languid pace. Alastor observes you above him for a long moment, smile widening when your hair falls in front of your bright eyes, and your hands splay across his chest to keep yourself steadily upright.

The scratches he’s left on you are still fresh, mixing with the tears that flow down your face, and your arousal pitifully dribbling down your inner thighs as well.

Exactly how he pictured you time and time again.

“You may,” he finally exhales, static completely gone from his voice, and hearing it elicits a newfound spark of heat in your core. Your legs shake involuntarily, hips stuttering in tight circles over his clothed erection as you chased your high. Alastor watches you intently, tonguing his cheek to keep from groaning, and his body running hotter than usual as your cunt drags against him.

Touch Starved Alastor can’t fathom how a soul as tender as yours can dwindle to filth in the midst of cumming. Head lulling at an angle while your back arches just right to define your silhouette in the dark room.

The coil in your stomach snaps faster than you can gauge a reaction. A scream threatening to leap from your chest as it washed over you, but his shadows return, clasping tight enough to muffle it. “Easy, my dear…you wouldn’t want to disturb the others, hm?” Alastor bucks his hips upward to make his point clear and you visibly jolt from the overstimulation he causes.

It was clear he needed his end met too and that brought a grin to your face as his shadows receded from your lips when you quieted down. “No…” you sigh, inching a hand lower to trace over the rise in his pants. Alastor stiffens under your touch, nearly snarling when you palm him slowly, eyes never leaving his as you do. Tempting and sweet as always, “Careful, Mon Cher,” he warns, voice thick with allure.

He’d only come to seek a warm body to torment, assuming he’d take care of his own needs later, but you -the ever so caring sinner you were- seemed intent to shoulder the task now.

You licked your lips, tongue grazing your fangs as your peered down at him defiantly with a warm smile, “M’ not one of your little puppets…” Alastor raised a brow at that, noting the mischievous glint in your eyes as you leaned forward, “….and I never will be.” You finish your statement, smiling wider before lowering yourself down his body. He lets you do as you please, stuck between observing, and enjoying the attention you give him.

It’s very rare to see the overload so willing to be tested, but you made your stance clear with a singular lick up his clothed length with the softest smile on your lips. “Fuck…” he groans then, static nonexistent again as you playfully repeated the action until he became agitated enough to fist a handful of your hair and drag you back up to face him.

“It’s not very polite to tease, sweetheart.”

You smirk and reach for his belt, skillfully undoing it without breaking eye contact, feigning humility through half lidded eyes“Then would you be so kind as to correct my manners then?”

“It’d be my pleasure, darling,”

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My head was all over the place with this one ❤️ I need some sleep…

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

He’s a literal walking red flag 🚩 and unfortunately my favorite color is red 😭 Credits to the creator 🖤

[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 ? 👀

[lovesickeros]

zhongli and neuvillette fighting over their reader 🤭🤭

scary dog privilege wherever you go, draconic courting gestures that would scare any regular person, they send each other deadly glares the moment you turn away,

stealing your clothes to just get a whiff of your scent, marking their territory all over your house - making it a battlefield basically, neuvillette (in my hc) is cooler and zhongli is warm so the cuddles are always so comfy ☺️😍,

they give you anything you want - you don't even have to lift a finger, they make you travel between the nations a lot though 😒 sooo clingyyy, extra gentle in their dragon forms as to not squish you, don't even get me started on the size difference 😍😍

just a little thought 🤭☺️

- 🐈‍⬛

Neuvi being colder is so real and canon. I see him as being colder + a lot more lithe, kinda lanky with smaller but sharper canines versus Zhongli who's warmer and a bit shorter then Neuvi + bulkier with bigger but not as sharp canines.

They've also got very different habits – Zhongli is very prideful not just of himself but his nation. He'll personally give your a tour and purposely drag it out as long as he can. Complimenting Liyue is basically complimenting him, checkmate Neuvi. Especially if he convinces you to try on some local Liyue fashion. Harmless and just a nice gift to anyone else but Neuvi sees it for what it is (since your wearing something from Liyue, technically wearing something of his. He loves his technicalities when it comes to staking a claim over you). Adds salt to the wound by touching you in totally innocent ways like to adjust you towards something he wants to show you or accidently brushing against you when he takes the bags of spoils he's practically drowning you in but really he's just making sure his scent sticks. He's just a sweet, nice gentleman with absolutely no ulterior motives trust.

Neuvillette does love Fontaine, but his habits are more about himself then the nation. He'll take you around if you ask or if the idea strikes him, but you'll probably stay around the making city area or the opera house specifically. He enjoys more personal time with just you and him then anything else. He values the immaterial to the material. Zhongli spoils you with gifts, but Neuvi tries to offer quality time irregardless of physical gifts (though he still gives them just not to the extent of Zhongli). He'll take you to see different operas if that's to your fancy, or leverage a bit of his authority to maybe see a few films since those seem to be hitting off in Fontaine recently. Bet that creaky old archon doesn't have those huh. He feels awkward if you want to watch a trial, but he'll reluctantly agree because. well. it's you. just don't wave or anything he's trying to work and he just Really wants to see you smile at him like that again and it makes him lose his train of thought. gets custom clothes designed by Chiori to replace your clothes from Liyue because they smell of Zhongli and it makes him sulky + he likes to match.

G-d forbid these two are in the same room as you because it's a war of attrition at that point. Constant accidental brush of the hand against your shoulder or elbow but it's just them trying to get rid of the others scent. they are side eyeing each other behind your back while being all smiles whenever your looking. If it's hot and you lean into Neuvi more he's practically GLOWING. not even smug he's just absolutely smitten and happy to be of service. immediately takes off his gloves and presses his hands to your face asking if your okay and if you want to go back with him. if it's cold out and you seek out Zhongli more hes smug as hell beneath the calm veneer. Offers you his coat and stay as physically close to you as he can under the pretense of being worried you'll catch a cold if he doesn't warm you up.

don't even get me started on your house either because you probably have tons of gifts from both of them accumulated everywhere. if Neuvi sees you use a tea set from Zhongli suddenly he had a fantastic gift idea he thought you'd like. he even got some tea included with it so why don't you let him make you some? Zhongli sees you using a goblet Neuvi gave you (totally a coincidence it's similar to his) and suddenly you have 27 square cups in your cabinets that you have no idea where they came from. if the goblet is mysteriously missing oh well. who knows :]

[zaczenemiji]

Curtain Calls and Curveballs II

Kenji Sato x Actress!Reader

Synopsis: After high school graduation, you never expected to see Kenji Sato again. But fate reunites you both at the same university where your love/hate relationship continues to grow.

Word Count: 1,376

Genre/Warning: Coming of Age, Enemies to Lover, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn

Author's Note: Oops, it became a short series 🫢 Part 3’s otw and I changed the title

PART ONE | PART THREE

MASTERLIST

You were dead wrong when you thought that high school graduation would be the last time you’d ever have to interact with Kenji. You remember your last words then, saying, “Congrats, Sato! I hope this is the last time I ever have to deal with you again.”

To which he replied with, “I’m sure this isn’t the last, (y/n)—to me at least—if ever you really are going to be the actress you dream of being.”

You were hurrying across the busy campus of your university, juggling a stack of drama textbooks and a cup of coffee.

Just as you were about to approach the performing arts building, you noticed a group of students gathered around a bulletin board. Your curiosity built up as you got closer to see what the commotion was about.

“Did you hear? There's a big baseball game this weekend.” a familiar voice called out.

You turned, heart skipping a beat. You didn’t expect to see anyone from high school here, let alone Kenji Sato. He stood there, his signature confident grin in place, holding a baseball glove.

"Kenji?" you blurted out, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

Kenji raised an eyebrow, looking equally taken aback. "I could ask you the same thing,” he said. “I thought you were off to some fancy drama school."

“I am,” you rolled your eyes, recovering from the shock. “This university has one of the best drama programs in LA. What about you? I thought you were headed straight for the big leagues."

“Not yet,” Kenji chuckled, shaking his head. “I've got a scholarship to play baseball here while I get my degree.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, sizing each other up. The familiar tension from high school crept back in, but it was tinged with the novelty of your new surroundings.

"So, you're still playing ball?" you asked, trying to sound casual.

"Yeah, and I'm still throwing strikes," Kenji replied with a smirk. "And you? Still pretending to be someone else on stage?"

“Ugh!” you rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the small smile tugging at your lips. "It's called acting, Kenji. Something you'd know nothing about."

Kenji laughed, the sound surprisingly warm. "Fair enough. So, are you coming to the game this weekend? It's against our biggest rival. Should be a good show."

"I might," you said, shrugging. "If I don't have rehearsals."

"Typical," Kenji said, shaking his head. "Always busy with your little plays."

"And you're always busy chasing a ball," you retorted.

The rivalry that had defined your high school years was still there, but it was different now but no less present.

"Well, I've got to get to practice," Kenji said finally, stepping back. "Try not to trip on stage, (y/n)."

"And you try not to get hit by a pitch, Sato," she shot back.

As you went your own way, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. Being in college felt like being in an unknown and bigger territory with so much more people. It was nice to come across someone you know in a crowd of unfamiliar faces; even if that was Kenji.

So many things have changed since you got into college. The only thing that didn’t, of course, was your rivalry with Kenji but the competition was less intense since you were in different programs.

This shift allowed you to focus on your individual passions without the constant pressure of direct competition. Here, in college, people didn’t know about the rivalry you had.

But this anonymity disappeared quicker than you thought because, for every time you came across each other, you’d always be hurling sarcastic remarks; as you two always did.

One bustling afternoon in the cafeteria, you were with your new friends, laughing and discussing your upcoming production.

"Hey, (y/n), I heard your play's actually worth watching this time," Kenji called out, smirking as he approached with his tray.

“Kenji,” You looked up, a frown on your face. "I thought you'd be busy throwing balls around. What brings you to the world of real talent?"

Kenji chuckled, setting his tray down. "Just wanted to see if you're still pretending to be someone you're not."

One of your friends raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of you. "You two know each other?"

“Unfortunately,” you said, rolling your eyes as you sighed. "Kenji here thinks he's the king of everything just because he can throw a ball."

"Careful, (y/n). Your jealousy is showing," Kenji retorted, grinning.

Your friends exchanged looks, quickly picking up on the rivalry. "So, you two have a history?"

"You could say that," Kenji said. "She's been trying to keep up with me since high school."

You scoffed, "In your dreams, Sato."

On baseball games, you’d attend with a group of friends from your program more to support the school than to see Kenji, or so you told yourself.

As you settled in your seat, one of your guy friends nudged you. "Isn't that the guy you're always talking about? The baseball star?" He asked.

You sighed, rolling your eyes. "Yes, that's Kenji,” you said. “Try not to feed his ego."

Kenji was on the mound, winding up for a pitch. He glanced towards the stands where he spotted you and your friends. With a smirk, he nodded in your direction.

"Is he waving at us?" another friend asked.

“No,” you shook your head. "He's just trying to show off. Watch, he'll probably strike this guy out just to make a point."

Sure enough, Kenji delivered a fastball that struck the batter out, the crowd erupting in cheers. He turned back to you, giving a mock bow.

Your guy friend laughed. "You weren't kidding,” he said. He's got a flair for the dramatic."

"Tell me about it," you muttered. "He's always been like this."

More than once, on your rehearsals, you’d find Kenji standing by the doorway, leaning casually against the frame.

"Nice performance, (y/n)," he called out, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Almost believed you were someone else."

You paused, turning to face him with a raised eyebrow. "What are you doing here, Kenji?” You asked. “Lost your way to the field?"

The director looked between the two of you, intrigued. "Friend of yours, (y/n)?" He asked.

"Hardly," you answered, crossing your arms. "Just someone who thinks he's more important than he actually is."

Kenji grinned, unfazed. "Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” he said. “You know, your acting. Seems like everyone's talking about it."

"Well, I'm flattered," you said dryly. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we have real work to do."

As Kenji left, one of your fellow actors whispered, "He really gets under your skin, doesn't he?"

You sighed, shaking her head. "He's been doing it for years."

During hell week, your exams season, you’d spend your time in the library a little longer. Of course, Kenji knew about this. He’s been keeping tabs on you since coming across you when you were freshmen.

You were studying in a quiet corner of the library when Kenji walked in. He made his way over, pulling out a chair across from you.

"Studying hard, I see," he said, grinning. "Trying to finally beat me at something?"

You looked up, exasperated. "Kenji, some of us actually have exams to prepare for,” you replied. “Don't you have a game to practice for?"

"Already did," he said. "Thought I'd see what the academic life is like. How's the memorizing going? More lines to learn?"

"At least I use my brain for something other than sports," you shot back.

A nearby student, overhearing the exchange, glanced over with curiosity. "Do you two always bicker like this?"

You nodded, not missing a beat, “Pretty much. It's our thing."

Kenji laughed, leaning back in his chair, "Can't let her get too comfortable, can I?"

As he left, the student shook his head, smiling, "You two have a strange relationship."

You didn’t even know that guy or from what program he’s in. It felt like it was high school all over again where everyone knew of your rivalry, and it’s the only thing they knew between you two.

And soon enough, it will be what the world knows about you two.

PART THREE

Taglist is open! Comment if u wanna be tagged on future Kenji oneshots

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[lumiambrose]

✰ twisted fortune

kinktober 24 - day twentyfour

featuring: soshiro hoshina x f!reader x gen narumi

summary: kaiju no 9 has finally been defeated. to celebrate, the defence force organises a company-wide celebration at the famed casino. letting you finally see your best friend, hoshina, for the first time in ages. the two of you came up with your own way to celebrate, what you didn't expect though, was your very own captain to join you in the act.

tags: smut, threesome, drug intake (aphrodisiacs), overstimulation, squirting, handjobs, oral (both receiving), throat-fucking/deepthroating, degredation, praise, finishing inside, power play (implied)

wc: 2.4k

"are ya sure? if you're serious i can get somethin' arranged for us," hoshina asks through the screen of your phone, staring at your excited expression as he prepares some paperwork. you've had the idea for a while now, taking aphrodisiacs, especially with your libido hitting an all-time low.

"mhm, certain! been meaning to try for a while now, but it would be boring alone," you state, matter of factly. you've spent days thinking about how to get out of your dry spell. at the end of the day, this was the best you could think of. "plus, if i'm trying them with anyone, i'd rather it be you than anyone else."

and that’s how you and hoshina find yourselves at the biggest defence force celebration in history, sneaking away like kids staying up past their curfew to go take some fancy drugs. after the two of you meet up for the first time in months and catch up a bit, you slip away into one of the velvety booths next to the bar. drinks in hand, hoshina takes out a small tab of chocolate, splitting it into multiple pieces and handing you one.

“are you sure this will work?” you ask, examining the small piece of chocolate in your hand. “it’s such a small piece, will it even be enough?”

before he could reply, a familiar head peaks over the walls of your booth. showing a certain captain, console in hand, catching you both red-handed.

"what do you two think you're doing?" narumi asks, his voice stern as he eyes the chocolate in your hands. "frankly, i should report this. imagine how disappointed hasegawa and captain ashido would be, seeing the two of you like this."

your heart leaps out of its chest, panic setting in. of course, captain narumi just has to be hiding somewhere playing games. you exchange a quick glance with hoshina before an idea strikes you. it's stupid, but it might just work.

"wait, captain!" you say, your voice slightly shaky. "why don’t you join us instead?"

narumi's eyes widen in surprise, letting out a snort at your suggestion. "join you? no way you’re actually serious."

you nod, holding out a piece of the chocolate. "come on, it will be fun. plus, you wont be glued to that console of yours the whole night."

there's a moment of silence as narumi considers your offer. eventually, he lets out a defeated sigh, pocketing his console.

"fine," he says, sliding into the booth, occupying the free space next to you. "but if this goes south, i'm not taking the fall for either of you."

you can't help but grin as you hand him a piece of the chocolate. "deal."

the chocolate itself is surprisingly bland. not too bitter, but not sickly sweet, leaving you almost disappointed. the three of you quickly scatter after digesting the treat. you go for drinks with some of the other defence force girls while the two men go about with their own agendas. seeing as the drug isn't working on you, it was only fair you get shitfaced, right?

wrong. you wish it would be that simple, but a few hours into the night, you start to feel an ache in your abdomen. almost painful, making you wince and almost trip. your vision gets blurry as colours become more vibrant, and sounds more intense. to your disbelief, you realise that the aphrodisiac is finally kicking in, and it's hitting you hard. your skin feels electric, every brush against it sends shivers down your spine. you quickly escape from the dance floor, leaving your friends in confusion as you slip away from the crowd.

landing yourself at the same booth this entire fiasco started at, you finally collapse. small whimpers escaping you as you try your best to fight off the sensation. suddenly, you feel a presence next to you. looking up, you see hoshina and narumi sliding into the booth, their faces flushed and eyes glazed over. "been lookin' for ya," hoshina slurs, his voice husky. you can't help but shiver as his thigh brushes against yours, the contact sending sparks through your oversensitive skin.

“turns out, this shit hits, and it hits hard,” narumi states, clearly taken over by the effects of the drug. before you can react, he grabs you by the chin, forcing you to lock eyes with him from across the table. “this whole ordeal was your idea, right? you gonna make up for this, or am i gonna have to report your actions?” with that, you felt a stray hand trace your thigh lightly before giving it a tight squeeze. hoshina, seated next to you, also seems frustrated by the current predicament.

“you're really not makin’ this easy for us either, darlin’,” his hands trace further up your thighs. “waltzin’ around in that tiny dress and dancin’ so provocatively in front of us. it’s only fair you take accountability, right?”

with that, hoshina helps you out of the booth and the two men lead you away from the casino towards the eclipse’s hotel, entering the suite they ordered for the night before they confronted you.

you barely made it past the doorway before narumi pounces on you, capturing your lips desperately as his hands roam yours. hoshina steps behind you, his hands running through your hair and gently tugging your head back. "let's not be too hasty, narumi," he teases at the officer in front of you, his breath hot against your neck. "we have the entire night ahead of us."

narumi pulls back, a growl rumbling in his chest, but he obeys hoshina's command. he steps away, allowing you to get a good look at the two men, flushed out, sweaty, and prints evident in their slacks as hoshina guides you further into the suite. the room is lavish, with a large king-sized bed dominating the space. hoshina leads you to the center of the bed, pushing you down onto the plush mattress.

"now, let’s rid ya of this flimsy fabric," hoshina says, his fingers finding the hem of your skirt, before ripping it, unable to wait any longer. narumi moves to stand beside him, his eyes dark with desire as he watches hoshina's hands work.

a cool breeze hits you as the thin fabric gets torn off, but the aphrodisiac coursing through your veins quickly heats your body once again. your skin feels like it's on fire, every touch sending shockwaves straight to your core.

narumi leans down, his lips brushing against your sensitive nipples as hoshina's hands explore your thighs. "you’re fuckin’ soaked, darlin’," hoshina remarks, his fingers gliding easily through your slick folds. "is the drug that strong, or did ya secretly want this?"

you can only moan in response, your body arching into their touches, every little graze making you whimper, yet it’s not enough. narumi continues his assault on your breasts, his tongue swirling around your hardened peaks, while hoshina slowly sinks two fingers into your tight heat.

"she's so tight," hoshina groans, pumping his fingers in and out of you. "can't wait to feel her around my cock."

narumi chuckles, his lips trailing kisses down your stomach. "patience. try not to cream yourself at the thought, hoshina."

they continue toying with your body, and you can feel the aphrodisiac's effects intensifying with each second. your skin feels supersensitive, every touch and caress sends waves of pleasure crashing over you. it's almost too much to bear, but it’s still not enough to stop the ache between your legs.

hoshina removes his fingers from your dripping core, bringing them to his lips to taste your essence. "fuckin’ delicious," he purrs, before leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue, fuelling your desire.

meanwhile, narumi continues south, his tongue leaving a trail of fire as he makes his way to your aching core. as he reaches it, he doesn't waste any time, diving in with need. his tongue lapping at your sensitive flesh, circling your clit and dipping into your entrance, eliciting moans from you that go straight to his cock.

hoshina, finally reaching his limits, pulls away from your wet mouth to free his aching erection. letting it slap against his abs as it finally springs free, making him sigh in relief. he kneels down besides your captain as his hands trail over to narumis erection, freeing his length from the restraints of his pants. taken aback, narumi pauses his meal, giving the other man a confused look. though that doesn’t stop hoshina as he wraps his hands around narumi’s hard length, giving it a few pumps before he dives back into your wet cunt. this time, narumi letting out moans of his own against your seeping cunt as hoshina strokes him.

“look at ya both, so desperate to cum you can barely contain yerselves,” hoshina taunts as his thumb runs over narumis tip, making him moan on your core, finally sending you over the edge.

your orgasm hits you hard as you let out a strained cry of pleasure. but to your surprise, it doesn’t stop there. your body trembling as you squirt onto narumi’s face, wetting him with your mixed arousal. narumi, delighted, laps it up like a starved man, overstimulating your clit as your whimpers fill the room.

“thank you for the fucking meal,” he says between pants as he pulls away from your drenched core, his face wet with your liquids. he stands up, hoshina following suit before flipping you around, letting your head dangle from the edge of the bed. hoshina, picking up on the situation at hand, climbs onto the bed, hoisting your legs onto his shoulders as he aligns himself with your folds.

“think you can take us both, kitty?” narumi coos, looking down on your pathetic figure as he slaps his cock on your cheek. instead of giving you the chance to reply, hoshina slowly thrusts forwards, making you take him inch by inch. “course she can, she’s our pretty little fucktoy after all,” hoshina lets out with a breathy moan, bottoming out inside of you.

you can't help but moan as hoshina stretches out, filling you with pleasure as he starts moving inside of you at a steady pace, his hips slapping against your ass with each powerful drive. the sensation of him gliding in and out of your sensitive walls is euphoric, sending pleasure through your entire body.

although your moans are short-lived as narumi, not wanting to be left out, grabs your hair, forcing you to look up at him as he waves his cock in front of your face. "open up, kitty," he commands, slapping your cheek once again. "you're going to suck my cock while vice captain here fucks you senseless, think you can manage that?"

unable to resist, you part your lips for your captain, allowing narumi to slide his girth into your mouth. his precum coating your tongue as he thrusts in and out, fucking your face with the same intensity as hoshina pounds your pussy. the sensation is absolutely unbearable, between narumi taking up your throat while hoshina fills you from your cunt, you can barely think straight. the ache between your core cooling down while they’re using you like a toy. the rough treatment sending you closer to yet another orgasm, making your body tremble beneath the two men, craving your release despite already being an overstimulated mess.

hoshina picks up the pace once he notices your shaking figure, his hips slamming against your ass over and over again with brutal force. each thrust coursing through your body, feeling euphoric and making your toes curl and your nails dig into the sheets. "fuck, you're so tight. can feel ya squeezing me dry, darlin’," hoshina groans, kicking his head up in pleasure. "ya gonna cream around my cock, huh? while your own captain is fucking your slutty lil’ throat?" although you give no reply, not while your mouth is full of cock. of course, that doesn’t stop his words from going straight to your core, letting out a muffled cry before coming undone all around hoshina’s cock. your body trembling as he holds you tight, slamming into you even harder, fucking you through your orgasm and chasing his own.

narumi, too, seems to be nearing his limit, especially after hearing you cum underneath you. his grip on your hair tightens as he drives his cock deeper down your mouth, hitting the back of your throat with each thrust. "swallow it," he growls, his eyes dark with lust. "swallow it all, kitty. gonna make you choke on my cock while i fill that mouth of yours with my cum."

the thought of tasting narumi's essence while being fucked senseless by hoshina is enough to send your overstimulated body into another dimension. clamping down around Hoshina's throbbing length, milking him for all he's worth. almost at the same time, you feel yourself getting filled up from both holes. hoshina’s hips stutter one last time before stopping inside of you, you can feel his dick twitch as he floods your pussy with his cum, letting out a low moan at the pleasure. at the other end, narumi is babbling incoherent words at you as he desperately ruts into your throat, reaching his own high. hot cum spills down your throat as you choke on his length, narumi not giving you time to breathe until he’s sure every last drop has made it down your throat.

narumi pulls out of your mouth, leaving your lips with a wet pop. “open,” he orders, holding your cheek with his large palms. too fucked-out to do anything but obey, you open your mouth, showing him the remnants of his cum on your tongue.

“good girl,” he caresses the skin as he admires his masterpiece, then helping you up onto the centre of the bed. in the meantime, hoshina has pulled out, letting his cum slowly ooze out of your seeping pussy. you lie helplessly on the large bed, the two men admiring you from either side.

despite the two men devouring you, the ache in your core from the aphrodisiac persists. your body clearly not satisfied with it’s current state. you weigh your options, debating on pushing the situation further. before you can even think it over, hoshina’s fingers graze over your stomach, and without even thinking, you let out a soft moan. they’re both initially taken aback by the noise but not long after, their shock develops into something more as narumi cages you underneath him.

“what’s this? all that and you’re still not satisfied?” he’s mocking you at this point. “you see this, hoshina? guess we’ll have to fuck her dumb again.”

the vice captain, amused by your little show, smirks. “how quickly will you come undone this time, darlin’?“

taglist: @ryescapades @143-ilyuu @maruflix @pixelcafe-network

©lumis kinktober 24' ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works

[wisteriaiswriting]

𝕋𝕒𝕟𝕜 𝔻𝕒𝕥𝕖 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤

Type of date | Location | Are they romantic? | How much money will they spend | What happens after | Blurb

Words: 1679

𝔻.𝕍𝕒:

She isn’t one for big, fancy dates. So she much prefers staying indoors playing video games.

She’ll drag you along to arcades. Making sure you two have the whole place to yourselves.

Isn’t as romantic as she thinks. It’s always interrupted by her giggling.

No matter how much you spend it won't make a dent in the amount she has. And she’s willing to let you use as much as possible.

She'll likely become tired. So she’ll fall asleep and in turn trapping you in her arms.

***

“Let’s go!”

“Finally, I thought you would never win.�� Your celebrating was mixed with her teasing. You two had been playing Mario Kart for hours, with you just now winning a round.

Tempted as you were to play another round, wanting to show her you weren’t as bad as she said. Pausing when you felt a weight on your shoulder, slowly looking over to see Hana.

She had fallen asleep, in turn falling onto your shoulder. Her sleeping quickly turned into cuddles, taking her place on your lap.

Maybe a nap wouldn’t be too bad.

𝔻𝕠𝕠𝕞𝕗𝕚𝕤𝕥:

He much prefers the fancier things in life, so no surprise when he takes you to a 5 star restaurant.

He’ll reserve a private room for the both of you, making sure you’re getting the best things you deserve.

Is a real romantic and he knows it too.

Money means absolutely nothing to him when compared to you. He can give you his card to buy anything but there's no way you could make a dent in it.

When his romantic mood strikes it lasts for a while. Pulling you into a walt with him, making sure you're laughing and having fun during it.

***

The night was still young and Akande wasn’t going to waste it. Still in your outfits as he pulled you into his arms, the classical music playing faintly in the background.

It was one he had been practicing since he was a child, ingrained in his memories. And he wanted to make plenty of new ones with you. Pulling you closer as the song finished, letting the next one continue before starting the next dance.

𝕁𝕦𝕟𝕜𝕖𝕣𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕖𝕟:

She already thinks being around her is good enough so you’ll have to convince her to do something, which would be watching her fight and win.

Gonna be around Junkertown, either in the arena watching her from her throne there or in her actual throne room.

Much less romantic and more flirty. She has no clue about romance, absolutely none.

Technically none so don’t go out of Junkertown, but when inside you won’t need any anyways.

If you’re not a junker she’s taking you for a tour, but if so you’re going right up to her room and throne room.

***

All you could hear is the yelling, shouting and screaming of the Junkers around you. Odessa had won another fight, not that anyone was surprised.

Watching everyone leave, still loudly chattering away. During that time she was making her way back up to the throne, making it clear when he returned.

“How was that?” Her arms opened just to pull you into a hug, picking you up off the ground.

“Another win isn’t new, so predictable!” Suddenly throwing you up into the air, letting you fall into her arms in a bridal carry. A giant smile on her face.

“Let's celebrate!”

𝕄𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕒:

I’m going to be honest here, he can only cook very few foods. He will insist on a cooking date, just supervise him, you’ll need to.

As he’s part of Talon (So are you likely) so the only place you two can safely go to is the base.

Is more on the flirty side rather than romantic, but he can try tone down the flirting but you’ll need to ask him most times.

Normally he wouldn’t care about the price of things, but with you? It doesn’t even pass his mind once.

Even if you two cooked earlier he needs a bit to fill him up, so it’s likely you’ll have to cook again. But if you don’t want to, he'll find someone else for the both of you.

***

He wanted to give you a surprise breakfast in bed, except for the fact both of you were standing in the kitchen. By now he knew your favourite kind so he was quick to start.

“Mauga, what are you doing?”

“Huh?” Brought back to attention, realizing he had stopped cooking and was staring at you. You learnt when the fire alarm was going off. The food had become burnt, not even you wanted to try it.

“Why don’t we order in?”

ℝ𝕒𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕣𝕒:

Takes you to a small and simple cafe.

Much prefers to stay at base, but if you want to go somewhere he will take you.

He doesn’t even try cause he has no clue what he’s doing, seeing no use in romance, unless you really want it.

Has plenty of money to spend due to various jobs and resources, and he allows you to spend a lot of it. Will watch what you buy to figure out what you enjoy.

He will return to work but you can stay around if you’d want. Might even let you sit on his lap.

***

He had no idea what you wanted to do, so he ended up on the internet. Looking up ideas that seemed good, ending up on the idea of a cat cafe. You enjoyed cats and food, well he hoped. While he couldn’t understand all these attachments if it made you happy he’d be fine.

The date started simple, while you ordered food he looked around at the cats. There was a range, from calicos to ragdolls. While he looked he didn’t see the cat walking up to you, a plain black cat.

It nudged you, causing your attention to shift.

“Ram, it looks like you!” Holding it up even as it shifted, only getting comfortable. It was a plain black, short haired adult, sporting a purple collar.

“It does.” Maybe he’d look for one similar to you.

ℝ𝕖𝕚𝕟𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕕𝕥:

Enjoys walking around a market, able to spend time with you and buy you things.

Also has fun sitting around at home or the base, able to enjoy your hobbies together.

Has quite a bit of experience due to his age, but is aware of how romantic he is.

Accidentally spends a lot of money on you during the walk, as he won’t look at the prices. Isn’t worried though.

Will hold you while you both enjoy a drink, telling you stories about anything he can think of.

***

Dropping the bags onto the floor, letting some items fall onto the floor but neither of you minded. He stretched, hearing his back crack.

“You should’ve let me carry the bags.”

“Nonsense by dear,” He picked you up, letting you sit on his shoulder, “You need to relax!” Grabbing himself a beer and your favourite drink before sitting down, dropping you onto his lap.

“Now, did I ever tell you about the crusaders?”

ℝ𝕠𝕒𝕕𝕙𝕠𝕘:

He’ll take you for a motorbike ride around the outback, won’t go scavenging unless you really want to.

Most times you’d be staying at his and Junkrats makeshift base.

Has little experience, due to being isolated from others.

Due to being a junker he doesn’t have a lot of money, also meaning neither of you need any.

He’ll take you both back to base, wanting to spend time with each other.

***

The sun was beating down on the land, and on you if Mako wasn’t in the way. Instead you were covered in his shadow, slightly cooler and safer from the heat. With the goggles protecting your eyes from any stray sand or dirt.

While you were looking around this gave Mako the chance to look at you. Taking in all your features. The way the sun revealed everything, everything that he loved about you.

𝕊𝕚𝕘𝕞𝕒:

He’ll cook you both a nice dinner to enjoy away from the others.

He won’t be able to leave the Talon base so thanks to Sombra you’ll be away and inaccessible to others.

As much as he tries he’s always flustered, sometimes laughing in between words.

Due to being at the Talon base neither of you will need any money.

He just wants to hold you close, cuddling while reading some of his favourite books.

***

You felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist, pulling you off of your feet so you hung above the ground. Looking behind to see Sigma looking down at you, a hung smile on his face.

“There you are Starlight!” Moving you around so you lay in his arms, floating over to a chair. “How about I read us a story?”

Asking as he pulled a book from one of his many shelves.

ℤ𝕒𝕣𝕪𝕒:

Her first thought would be a gym date, but she knows not everyone would like it. So she goes for a nice and cozy lunch date instead.

She takes you to a small, less popular cafe that she goes to often. It's kinda small yet cozy place.

Unluckily she has no experience, being focused on other things. But she still tries, constantly looking to improve.

Normally won't spend a lot but for you she’ll go over her normal amount, you’ll be able to get most items you want.

Will pull you around to look around the town, stopping by the nearest ice cream of gelato place. Treating you to a flavour of your choice.

***

Before she even knocked at the door you knew she had arrived, her nervous pacing outside wasn’t the quietest. With fast paced and surprisingly light knocks. Stepping away when you opened the door.

There she stood, a button up shirt and simple black pants. A bouquet of your favourite flowers were held in her hand, reaching for you to take them.

“Dear, you look amazing!” While speaking her voice cracked lightly, face covered in blush. Hold out her arm for you to take. “Ready for today?”

[miirohs]

in the middle of the night [r.n.z]

pairing: OPLA!Roronoa Zoro x Reader wc: 1.0k cw: there is a reference to something that is canon in the series, as well as one piece spoilers an: damn thats crazy my drive suddenly came back after years of being gone anyways this was inspired by swim by chase atlantic and middle of the night by elle duhé. note that if the tension is not tension-ing its bc i cant write tension.

Zoro felt more lost around you than anyone else.

You were chaotic and proud, kicking up dust and blowing it to the wind, and yet he liked you. He wasn't sure if he was in denial or acceptance about it.

Though for someone so loud, He knew almost nothing about you and anyone who asked you would only receive a smile, teasing them with tiny pieces dangled over their head like bait.

It irked him a little, if he was going to be honest.

No matter how hard he seemed to slash his sword at the pitch black sky, you seemed to linger in the back of his mind.

He paused for a moment, huffing as he turned the blade in his hand. Trying to cut air didn't seem to help a single bit.

As he leaned against his sword, the atmosphere seemed to have shifted. The wind was slowly dying down, the sound of crashing waves being the only thing he could hear for a heartbeat or two. He could have even fell asleep leaning against his katana if he really tried.

"Fancy yourself a little midnight training?"

He whirled around, tip of the katana aimed directly at your throat. You sat on the railing behind him, hair ruffling in the wind as you watched him with an amused smirk.

His grip on the katana didn't waver, but he lowered the blade slightly, still watching you. "What do you want?" He muttered, tone gruff as he sheathed his katana.

"You're always so serious, Zoro," you complained, swinging your legs idly over the railing. "And you're not, so i guess that balances out," He said, arms crossed in front of his chest.

"The way you talk to me , i makes me think you really do hate me," you hummed, leaning forward on the rails, trying to close the space, "Do you though, Roronoa Zoro? Or are you avoiding me for some other reason."

You both paused, and for the slightest moment you could have sworn you saw his eyes narrow slightly.

"Whatever. Anyways, I'm going back to bed," Zoro muttered quickly, turning his heel on you as you jumped down, light as a cat on its feet.

"Wait, Zoro. I have something to ask of you." He paused. You weren't just going to let him slip away just yet.

"What if we have a little duel? Just me and you." You said, traipsing to his side. "If you win i'll tell you whatever you want to know."

He stiffed up slightly and you grinned. You had him right where you wanted him. Bingo.

"Deal-" He muttered as you breathed a sigh of relief, holding out a hand. "But don't expect me to go easy."

You jumped, tumbling across the floor shocked by the sudden strike. Your hands reached for the sword behind you as you got up, leaning against the railing.

"You play dirty, Roronoa."

"We're not having an official match. After all, you're the one who wanted this," Zoro retorted, a menacing look on his face as you got up.

"You're right," you conceded, a smirk playing on your lips. "No official match. Just a little midnight sparring to lighten the mood"

He came for you again, but this time you were prepared, blade catching the moonlight as you struck him.

He managed to block, and from there you were stuck in a pas de deux.

Your swords continued to clang, and you continued to doge effortlessly, almost dancing on your feet as you got closer.

"Come on marimo, tell me this isn't all you have!" You said sing-songy, pushing him back once again.

It was obvious from the look on Zoro's face that he didn't expect the skill level you had from you. While you did gain a lot from watching him fight, this also wasn't your first rodeo.

As he swung for you again, you managed to hit his side with the spine, sending him back a foot or two.

"Oh you've done it now," He snapped, charging at you once again, "You just had to do that, didn't you?"

Out of nowhere, he striked harder, moving fast as you had seen him move in the field. You, for once, struggled against defending the blows, as he randomly disappeared and reappeared.

For a solid moment, his blade scrape against your eyebrow, and you stumbled. He managed to disarm you, forcing you back into the corner you had come slinking out of, sword to your throat.

You could feel the tip barely pressing against it as you breathed deeply, grinning.

"You got me," you conceded, your voice laced with a playful tone. "But you'll have to admit, that was a hell of a fight."

He grimaced, clutching his chest slightly as he watched you through hawk eyes.

"Where the hell did you get all that from? I didn't even think you knew how to hold a sword?" He hissed, pressing the katana a little deeper on accident.

The feeling of warmth trickling down your skin told you everything, and you reached up, holding the blade firmly into your hands. It dug into your skin, yet the smile never dropped off your face.

"I wasn't just a dancer. I use to be a pirate too." He pressed a little more, and you winced.

"I was... apart of the black cat pirates, three years ago. It was around the time Kahladore- or should i say, Kuro, went missing. I saw my chance and i ran." You whispered, watching him carefully. There was no telling what he would do with the information.

"Have you kept this a secret from all of us this whole time?" He gawked. You only blinked, taking time to process the question.

"Nami knows. She's the only one i told, except now i've told you too," You admitted, looking up at him through hooded eyes.

"How do i know you're not going to-"

"Betray you all? Do you think that lowly of me?" You refuted, pushing his blade away from your neck.

"Now let me ask you something, Roronoa Zoro? Do you like me?"

The silence seem to stretch on, thickening every moment you sat there. He didn't say anything, and you sighed. "Shame. I thought i might get something out of you, but i maybe i was wrong about it."

You sat up on the rails, arms outstretched as you leaned back, hair whipping wildly in the wind as you shut your eyes, "shame, it was a wonderful night."

A sudden yank back awoke you, a yelp escaping your mouth as you skidded and landed on him.

Wait.

You landed on him.

Your cheeks flushed as you scrambled back, at a loss for words.

"Uh... I'm- oh, i'm just going to go to bed-"

Zoro watched you with an amused glint in his eyes as you stammered out your intentions.

"Y/n."

"Yes?" You mumbled, burning feeling spreading to your ears as he called you back.

"Maybe i do like you."

"What?" You squawked.

"Maybe I have liked you," he repeated, his voice softer this time. You were sure if there was a little more light, you'd see a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

A smile spread across your face. "I just knew it."

"Don't rub it in." He grumbled, rolling his eyes as you sat up, gleeful.

"I won't," you replied with a mischievous grin, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "But I have to admit, it's nice to finally hear you say it."

Zoro shifted uncomfortably, his usual tough exterior momentarily cracked by his confession. "Yeah, well, don't make a big deal out of it."

You chuckled, warmth settling in as you got up from his side. "Of course not. This can just be our little secret."

He nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah, our secret."

As you climbed down the steps, you paused, turning around.

"Also, if you tell anyone about the fact that i can use swords, i will find you and duel you to the death."

"Sure you will."

"Will too."

"Will not."

"Will too."

[catmarlowastrology]

Transit Jupiter in Gemini for all Rising signs

🗣️ Aries Rising: Jupiter in Gemini is transiting your 3rd house of learning from your environment. Love a bit of gossip? You’re in luck. This transit will flood your life with juicy tidbits about everyone around you. Expect to bump into old acquaintances, or receive bizarre 3am DMs from friends spilling all sorts of tea. Invitations to go out and socialize will be pouring in, so get ready to play social butterfly. You’ll uncover all sorts of secrets about the people who share your daily grind. Have a crush on that cutie you pass every day on your commute? Now's the perfect time to strike up a conversation. In fact, you might want to chat up anyone you fancy building a relationship with, be it platonic or romantic. Networking is your best friend during this transit, and meeting new people on apps could lead to some exciting connections. Basically, this is your golden opportunity to dive headfirst into your social scene and make some memorable connections.

💸 Taurus Rising: Jupiter in Gemini is transiting your 2nd house of finances and possessions. This transit can be tricky sometimes. On the bright side, you might suddenly find people falling over themselves to offer you investment opportunities (assuming you roll in those circles). Your friends and family could also be all over you, urging you to turn your hobbies into cash cows. And it's actually a great time to do just that and rake in some extra dough. Perfect moment to start that Etsy store you've been daydreaming about. But make sure to gather all the info you need and politely ignore the unsolicited advice from people who couldn’t tell a stock from a sock. With Gemini’s influence, money can appear in your bank account quickly but vanish just as fast. Watch out for the shopaholic bug. The temptation to splurge will be strong, with endless cool experiences and shiny things calling your name. Keep a level head and focus on a few key purchases instead of buying everything that catches your eye.

🔍 Gemini Rising: Jupiter is transiting your 1st house. Expect countless opportunities to learn about yourself and grow wiser. If you've been feeling a bit adrift, now’s the time to dive into therapy sessions or binge on self-help books to boost your self-awareness and finally get comfy in your own skin. This transit is also the perfect excuse to play dress-up with your life, trying on different personas and styles to see what fits. You're in a self-discovery phase, and relationships will act like funhouse mirrors, reflecting who you are, who you aren't, and who you want to become (thanks to Jupiter opposing your 7th house). But don't worry, this isn't some grueling self-help marathon (we’re not dealing with a Saturn transit). It's a fun, enlightening chapter where you learn more about yourself and enjoy every minute of it.

🌜 Cancer Rising: Jupiter will be transiting your 12th house in Gemini. This house is introspective, personal, subjective, and takes place mostly in the hidden depths of your psyche. Expect a lot of overthinking, more than usual, to the point where your brain might just pack up and leave. If you have planets in the 12th house, external events might trigger this mental marathon. But if that house is empty, you’re left with your own thoughts. You'll reminisce, ponder, and lose sleep over things that probably don’t matter to anyone else but you. Now is the perfect time to start writing down your dreams and thoughts. Get them out of your head and onto paper, so you can analyze them and maybe even laugh at how absurd some of them are. Therapy is also a great idea during this transit. You'll learn a lot about your subconscious, but brace yourself: it’s going to be mentally exhausting.

🌍 Leo Rising: Jupiter in Gemini will transit your 11th house. Get ready, because your social circle is about to explode. Unlike Aries Rising, who are busy making friends at the local coffee shop, you’re going global. The world is your oyster, and it’s about to serve you a platter of new acquaintances from every corner of the globe. This is the perfect time to join groups and communities where you can share your interests. If you're into social media, now's the time to take it seriously. Get out there, mingle, and talk to as many people as you can. This is your moment to enjoy your time with strangers and make new friends from all walks of life.

🎭 Virgo Rising: Jupiter in Gemini will transit your 10th house. Buckle up Virgo Rising because your reputation and public accomplishments are about to get a serious boost. Jupiter in Gemini loves multitasking, so get ready to juggle new opportunities like a circus performer on caffeine. There's a fun twist here: you won't just be known for one thing, but for multiple things. Thinking about a new career path? Now’s the perfect time to dip your toe in, while still keeping one foot firmly planted in your old job. Who said you can’t have it all? Whatever happens, your reputation is set to expand. You'll be known as the multitasking marvel who can do it all. You might also become famous in your field for your expansive contact list and your knack for connecting people. Embrace the chaos and show off those multiple skills you've been hiding up your sleeve.

🎓 Libra Rising: Jupiter in Gemini will transit your 9th house. This house is all about stretching your horizons and either confirming or totally overhauling your belief system. Brace yourself because this could be the transit that crams your brain with so many new interests that your poor computer gives up and crashes under the weight of all those tabs you’ve got open. Maybe you'll even consider international travel, hopping from one far-flung place to another, just to soak up their vastly different lifestyles and beliefs. If Venus is in this house, people who think completely unlike you might just be the ones to trigger your personal growth and expansive worldview. This transit is the perfect excuse to sign up for every course under the sun, or maybe even drag yourself back to university if that was on your vision board. Let your heart run wild with as many academic endeavors as it pleases.

💥 Scorpio Rising: Jupiter in Gemini will transit your 8th house. This house is the realm of losing control. Maybe you're itching to explore your sexuality? Maybe you're thinking about juggling multiple partners? Whatever wild ride you're on, you'll come out wiser. Gemini loves options and spreading knowledge like confetti, so expect to learn some jaw-dropping truths about yourself and others, especially if Mercury is in this house. If you're the sharing type, brace yourself for a crash course in joint finances. You might discover that your partner has a secret stash of cash they’re funneling into some mysterious hobby. But don't worry, it's Jupiter delivering the news, so it's more of a "well, that's interesting" revelation rather than a life-shattering bombshell (we'll leave that to Uranus, Pluto, or Saturn). Expect to dive into topics that most people run away from. It's all about growth with Jupiter. You’ll emerge from this transit not emotionally wrecked, but definitely a whole lot wiser.

💑 Sagittarius Rising: Jupiter in Gemini will transit your 7th house. Your 7th house is the VIP lounge for getting to know people on a deep, meaningful level. It's not your usual gossip fest like in the 11th house where everyone’s spilling tea. No, this is more like spending a day meandering with someone and talking their ear off. But, since we're dealing with Gemini here, your attention isn't glued to just one special someone. Nope, you've got at least two people vying for your attention. And it's not all about romance, either. Platonic relationships get a spotlight too. Your closest friends live here. Business contracts too. If you work with clients and close deals, brace yourself for a flood of new business. If you're in a relationship, keep an eye out for someone new who might turn your head and tempt you into some extracurricular activities — especially if Venus is in this house. Being an angular house, this transit is a big deal.

📅 Capricorn Rising: Jupiter in Gemini will transit your 6th house. Capricorn, you love it when life is a neat little package. With Jupiter transiting your 6th house in Gemini, you're suddenly all about efficiency and streamlining every aspect of your existence. This transit has you scheduling your life down to the millisecond, convinced that you can overhaul everything at once. So, naturally, you decide it's the perfect time to dive into yoga, Pilates, and kickboxing — all at the same time. Not stopping there, you become a culinary genius, mastering healthy meals like a gourmet chef. And why not throw in some home improvement classes, despite having zero DIY skills? You’re superhuman. At work, you’ve set your sights on the “Employee of the Month” title and are ready to work yourself to the bone to get it. It’s a lot to juggle for one person. The upside of this transit is that you’ll learn a ton about self-improvement. But you're not a robot — don't push it too far.

🎉 Aquarius Rising: Jupiter in Gemini will transit your 5th house. Aquarius, this transit is all about fun! With Jupiter transiting your 5th house, you'll be knee-deep in what makes you happy. You'll discover new hobbies, attend countless cool parties, and go on so many hot dates you'll lose count. The universe is basically Santa Claus, throwing a bunch of exciting opportunities at your feet to make you fall in love with life all over again. If expanding your family is on the agenda, this is the golden moment, especially if your Moon or Sun is in this house. Enjoy!

🏡 Pisces Rising: Jupiter will transit your 4th house. This is the perfect time to connect (or reconnect) with your family and roots. Expect sudden DMs from relatives you haven’t seen since forever popping up in your inbox. You might get an itch to discover your origins and splurge on a DNA test. Learning about your family’s past and culture is the theme of this transit. Thinking about buying a home or moving out? Now’s your chance, as the universe will throw a bunch of cool offers your way. During this transit, you might also suddenly become obsessed with home decor, trying out different styles and buying furniture that either goes wonderfully together... or creates a total eyesore. But the beauty of this transit is that you’ll end up wiser and more knowledgeable. By the end of it, you might just become the local guru on home styling. Who knows? Maybe you'll even be able to tell a chaise from a chesterfield.

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

As love and its Decisive Pain

Main Masterlist

I had some thoughts and had to write them down, so here we are.

Title inspo

Contains: Fluff, loving husband Ray, impact play with a flogger, bondage, smut (fingering, sex toys, P in V) aftercare. Not beta read.

2.1K words

Ray goes shopping

The narrow, cobbled stone street was one of Ray's favourites. The area, which was once a red light district back when the Thames was filthy and a loaf of bread cost a few cents, still had an illicitness about it, like the pleasure and vice still lingered in the air. Up an old set of poorly lit steps and left through a glass door into a store with walls lined with goods that would make The Marquis De Sade blush.

"Mr Smith, good to see you again. I was just about to call you about a new piece." Mavis, the woman at the counter, ducked down and produced a long black flogger with the strangest handle he had ever seen. "It came in yesterday. Nice thudy fall with no sting, and the handle," she handed to Ray as he approached the bench. "It's muti use."

The handle was made of the smoothest metal he had ever felt and it took up the heat of his hand like it was enchanted. "How much."

Mavis smiled. "For you, five hundred." He slid the money across the counter as she packed it in a fancy black box. "Anything else today?"

He shook his head. "No thank you, Ma'am. Pass my compliments onto the Leatherworker, they did some wonderful work." He left with a wave and a smile on his face, tonight was going to be delightful.

Ray did his best to fight back his smile as he walked into his home library. You were sitting, curled up on his favourite chair by the window and flashed him a warm smile when you set eyes on him. "Hello Dearest, I wasn't expecting you until six."

He smiled. "Micky let me off early. I got you something." He took the box from under his arm and placed it on the table. "I think you'll like it."

You took your time opening it, untying the ribbon before pulling off the lid and moving the tissue paper aside. "What's the occasion?"

"No occasion, Beloved, I just wanted to get you something nice." He sat next to you and pressed his lips to the side of your face. "Do you like it?"

You removed the flogger from the box and ran your fingers through the many tails. "Oh yes, I love it. Thank you." You placed your hand on his cheek and kissed him. "Can we use it tonight?"

He grinned against your lips. "Of course."

You return your attention to the implement in your hand; the hilt was odd, it was longer than any others you owned, with two sections separated by a guard, it was only when you took a closer look at the pommel that it registered. "Oh, that's interesting."

His beard scratched your skin as his teeth nipped your ear. "I thought so too." He took your chin between his thumb and forefinger and kissed you as his hand slid up your shirt, only when you were breathless did he pull away to speak. "I'm going to cook you dinner, then you're all mine."

The bedroom was pleasantly warm, as were Ray's hands as he undressed you. "You remember what to say if you want to stop?"

You nodded. "Poppy."

He smiled. "Good girl." The rope he looped around your wrists so he could tie you to the bed posts was soft, each knot made carefully for your comfort. There was enough tension so that when your legs eventually gave out, you would stay standing, your back remaining a perfect target for him to land every well placed strike.

To anyone outside the room, it must have looked like some lurid facsimile of a crucifixion, you standing naked, your arms spread open with each one tied to a bedpost, but it was one of the most erotic things Ray had ever seen. The brush of leather on your skin was gentle, a mere promise of things to come. "Are you ready, my Darling?"

You took a deep breath. "Yes."

The first few hits were soft, an easy warm up so you could fall into the sensation in relaxed comfort. There was a pause and his eyes met yours as a warm, calloused hand found your back, feeling the growing heat coming off your skin before his voice filled the air, already tight and filled with lust. "Are you ready for more?"

"Please." The next hit wasn't soft and it had your muscles coiling to avoid jolting too much in your bonds. He paused to wait for you to relax before delivering the next one, and the second you stopped tensing, they came in steady succession until he hit a pleasant rhythm that filled the room with satisfying thuds.

When he came around to your front this time, his shirt was rolled up to his forearms, and his pupils had all but taken over the pretty blue of his eyes. "So, do you like it?"

"I do, very much."

He smiled and scratched your heated skin, the feeling mixing with the dull ache of his hits and sending tingles up and down your flesh. "Good. Would you like more?"

You nodded. "Yes please."

He pecked your check before disappearing from view again and the hits began once more. Time grew fuzzy around the edges, like he had wrapped your brain in cotton wool and you fell into the support of the rope like a sailor falls into the safety of a hammock. Eventually he stopped, returning to your side as he ran his hand up and down your back. "I think it's time we move on."

He placed the flogger down for the moment and ducked under your arm so he could stand in front of you. The kiss he took you in was filled with lust and he didn't even give you a moment on control as he nipped your lower lip. He slowly ran his hand down your body, his fingers seeking until they reached your core. "Fucken hell, you're so fucken wet Sweetheart, is this all for me?"

He must have meant for the question to be rhetorical because there was no way you could give him a clear answer when his index finger circled your clit. He watched your face as he slid two fingers inside you, smiling to himself as your expression grew tight with pleasure. "You have no idea what you're doing to me."

He pulled away and your eyes popped open, and you watched as he stepped away, making his way to his bedside drawer to collect a bottle of lube. Each movement was full of intention as he picked up the flogger by the bottom part of the hilt below the guard and spread a generous amount of lube on the pommel. The metal was surprisingly cold, given how it felt when you first held it. He rubbed it through your folds and you felt him grab your face with insistent fingers as your eyes drifted closed. "No, don't close your eyes, I want to watch you feel it."

The second your eyes met his, he slid the hilt inside you in one long, persistent push. He paused for a moment to admire the glassiness of your eyes and the way your breath caught in your chest before slowly pulling it out and then using the same slow, steady pace to slide it back in. The smooth steel was unforgiving hard, and guided by Ray, it pressed against your walls in a way that made you feel unbelievably full. He changed the angle so the rounded head of the pommel pressed against our G-spot with each pass and mercifully, he allowed your eyes to close as your head fell against your bicep.

He seemed intent on torturing you, never picking up speed or adding force but something about the unrelenting pressure and hardness of the hilt increased the pleasure growing in your core regardless. He shifted, never letting go of the flogger and you felt him press himself against your back as he resumed fucking you with it. He was hard in his trousers and it seemed the whole scene was affecting him just as much as you as he began to whisper praise in your ear.

Soon enough, Ray's persistence began to pay off and you felt yourself grow closer to the edge, but as your thighs closed around his hand involuntarily, you felt his foot kick at you calf. "Keep your legs open or you'll regret it." There was no force in the kick, it was nothing more than a tap but for a moment, you felt the same level of helplessness that you imagine the men who ran afoul of him felt when he kicked them to the ground.

You planted your feet on the ground and forced yourself to keep your legs still. "I'm sorry."

He smiled and pressed his lips to the back of your neck as he slid his free hand down your body to run your clit. "Hush, just be the good girl I know you can." While the push of the hilt remained languid, his fingers were fast and the juxtaposition was as confusing as it was enrapturing. "Are you going to come for me?"

You nodded. "Yes, if you want me to."

He smiled as his teeth nipped at your shoulder. "Of course I do." All most as if by magic, you fell into bliss as he sucked a mark into your skin. It was wave after wave of intensity while he poured praise over you like you were Venus in the shell. He slowly slid the handle from you, and you heard it thud before he untied you, allowing you to lean your back against his chest as you found your legs. "Can I have you tonight or will it be too much?"

You shook your head. "No, I don't want to stop."

"Good." He took your hand and led you to the side of the bed, pulling back the covers and gesturing for you to lie down while he undressed. The carefulness was a show in itself, each item coming off slowly before being folded and placed down on a chair. He was deceptively large under his clothes and watching his cock spring free as he slid his black boxers down his legs had your mouth watering.

He shot you a cocky grin as he closed the distance and climbed onto the bed, manhandling you until you were lying under him. He leaned down and kissed you, his beard scratching your skin as one hand trailed down your body so he could lift your legs over his waist. He shifted onto his elbow as his hand slid up your thigh then between you, wrapping around his cock so he could line himself up.

He met eyes with you, his expression going soft. "Are you ready?"

You nodded. "Yes please."

Your eyes fluttered closed as he groaned, his hips twitching as he fought to maintain control of himself. "Fucken 'll Love, your cunt could kill a man." His whole body coiled as his hips started to shift, a rhythm that had the head of his cock brushing your G-spot with each stroke. You clung to him, trying to match his pace as he pushed you closer to the edge. After the steel of the flogger hilt, Ray's cock felt positivity molten and the heat of bare skin against yours had a comforting heat spreading from every point of contact.

His words had turned into a hushed prayer, said more to himself than you as he wove a hand between your bodies to rub your clit. "Come on Love, you gotta come for me."

It happened slowly this time, a radiating warmth emanating from his cock, through your core and to the tips of your fingers and toes. His pace picked up as he chased his own high, the hand that was on your clit curling into your hip in a pushing clasp as he neared the edge. He took you in a kiss, equal part loving and rough as you felt him pulse inside you, and his muscles faltered as his hips stuttered and his weight fell on you.

His forehead rested on yours as he caught his breath, gazing into your eyes lovingly as he smiled softly. "Thank you."

You giggled. "Shouldn't I be thanking you?"

He chuckled and rolled off you, bringing you with him as you rested your head on his chest. "No, you are the one that is so ready to give yourself to me whenever and for whatever I ask and I'll always be grateful for that."

You sighed and pressed your lips to his chest. "You're really sweet when you want to be."

He smiled and brushed his fingers over your cheek. "Yeah, well when you're ready I'm going to run you a bath and get you clean up then we can get some sleep. How does that sound?"

You nodded. "It sounds good. I love you Ray."

His lips were soft when he placed them on your forehead. "I love you too y/n."

Fin

[thefiery-phoenix]

YANDERE KEIGO TAKAMI (HAWKS) HEADCANONS

This bird brain is a VERY obsessive and delusional yandere. The SECOND he sees you, expect him to say, ''Well, hello there Dove"

This chicken nuggets for brains is a HUGE flirt (I don't know WHO's a more huge flirt, Denki or Hawks). He thinks a day goes to waste if he doesn't compliment you and try asking you out with cheesy and corny pick up lines at least, oh, a DOZEN times in a day. And, he might make extremely suggestive gestures towards you

He believes that you both were DESTINED to be with each other. You both were MADE for each other and you both are soulmates. He thinks that you're just a little confused and shy about your feelings but... he'll make you realize soon that you belong to him

After Keigo first sees you, he wants to get to know more about you and so... like every other typical yandere, he ends up stalking you or 'looking after you'. Don't be surprised if he strikes up a conversation about your favorite book series or movie of whatever. The dude has spent SO much time stalking you, he knows you better than you know yourself no joke

Anything you like, he likes. Anything you don't like, he hates. Kinda silly at times. Got someone who's annoying the CRAP outta you? Well, you won't be hearing from them anytime soon

To Keigo, you're his angel, his babybird, songbird, dove, sweetheart and precious baby (Dude has like, a ZILLION nicknames for you)

He will do ANYTHING and I mean ANYTHING to make you ONLY HIS and no one else's 

After Hawks gets to know more about you, don't be surprised if you wake up in his house or a fancy penthouse or something since he would kidnap you within like, a month or 2

He'll make sure your new room in your new house with him was just like your old one since he wants you to be comfortable and make sure you feel at home. It'll be weird if you enter a room which isn't yours but... at the same time LOOKS like your old one. Get what I'm sayin'?

After he starts talking to you and gets to more about you before the whole kidnapping fiasco, if by any chance you flirt back with him, oh boy.... you're gonna get kidnapped THAT very day and you won't be seeing daylight again. As soon as you show any sign or you returning his feelings, you're immediately swept away by him. And Hawks will make sure to keep the cops and other heroes off his trail. After all, he doesn't want anyone to cast their filthy look on HIS angel

If you try escaping, he'll be OUT of his mind with worry and heartbroken and devastated ALL at the same time. He has the emotional range of an ocean (Kinda like me lol) He's going to freak the freak out. What if you were hurt? What if someone had taken you away from him? What if you were scared and lost and lonely? But... he can't resist the chance to become your hero and he'll swoop in from nowhere and carry you back to your house, ignoring all your pleas and cries and he's yapping continuously that he was glad you were safe. Of course, all escape routes will be destroyed less than 24 hours and he'll ask the villains to watch over you like your personal bodyguards and the surveillance systems will be stronger than ever before 

Overall, he's sweet and kind and caring but... push him over the edge, he'll go feral and no one wants a feral pile of feathers attacking them now, do they?

[felassan]

Snippets. 🐺💜 DA:TV spoilers under cut.

Game Informer reporter Wesley LeBlanc has mentioned that he will not be at the DA@SDCC stuff [source]

Saira: "i won’t lie, my very first council note for lucanis was “can’t wait to fuck puss in boots”" [source]

Jay: "And you killed it!" [on Alex Jordan's - one of the actors of Rook - post announcing his role in the game] [source]

Ashe: "say it with your chest HELL YEAH HE DOES" (context: Council members sharing that Lucanis' voice in-game does indeed sound like the actor's Spanish reel video) [source]

Erika Ishii might sneak into the actor panel at SDCC [source]

A user asked "when are the announcements of the different languages voices?" An EA Community Manager replied "We’re not ready to reveal everyone quite yet, but stay tuned!". [source: the official BioWare Discord]

In the Discord, the ask-bioware channel is for questions folks may have for BioWare. they can't guarantee that all questions put there will be answered, but if you have one it's still worth popping it in there as the channel helps them "for future Q&A sessions and the like" [source: the official BioWare Discord]

In the Discord, a user asked about pre-orders. An EA CM replied "Not yet announced!" [source: the official BioWare Discord]

In the Discord, a user asked about the release date. An EA CM replied "I wish I could. Gotta keep it under wraps until it's ready though!" [source: the official BioWare Discord]

EA CM Violet: "always stirring in the bioware lighthouse. hard working team full of passion ❤️" [source: the official BioWare Discord]

A user said regarding the talent lineup for Rook's actors, "This entire lineup is INCREDIBLE." Corinne: "So glad you like it! 😊" [source]

Ghil Dirthalen shared that she thinks Bellara "rocks- so excited for people to meet her ❤️" [source]. She also mentioned that Bellara isn't really like Peebee from Mass Effect: Andromeda [source]

Ghil also shared non-DA voice clips of the companion actors that she thinks sound most like their voices as-used for the companions in DA:TV. This is the clip shared for Taash, although it's not super-close as Caitie had trouble finding a clip of this actor. "but their voice in DAV is a lot more dead pan? In a good way though- Taash is fun!" [source]

This is the clip shared for Emmrich. "this is closer to the Emmrich voice than the other clip ive seen floating about. I would say less cartoony than this performance, but with the same voice??" [source]

Malcolm on Emmrich: "you might have to buy him dinner or something first. He's a classy guy." [source]

Bryce: "someone on Tumblr who follows me for dragon age content called this the Veilbus and I'm-" [source]

John Epler is heading to SDCC [source]

John on the recent Game Informer video: "not shown - the piece of wood digging into my spine for 45 minutes as i filmed this. me after: 'yeah i had a piece of wood digging in between two of my vertebrae' them: 'why didn't you say something?' me: 'i was on a roll and i didn't want to lose it'" [source, two]

Trick: "I thought I knew who I was romancing in DAI until the first time I heard Sera giggle. I suggest pinballing wildly between whoever strikes your fancy as you learn more about the characters until the game comes out and then seeing who wins your heart!" [source]

User: "I was wondering about tavern songs in DAI. There’s a song for Samson, but not for Calpernia. I was wondering if there was an in-universe reason for that, or if it was due to real world limitations?" Trick: "I think the tavern songs were about what the lyricist found interesting, so they weren't a sign that Samson or Sera or Harding was more important than anyone else." [source]

[adverbally]

The String to Strike Within Me

Written for the @steddiesmuttyseptember prompts “rough” and “aftercare” | wc: 1,463 | rated: E | cw: | tags: alternate universe - gender changes, female steve harrington, female eddie munson, bdsm, dom steve, sub eddie, rough sex, strap-on, vaginal sex, light degradation, begging, subspace, praise kink | title from “Heaven” by Mitski

Not much of an excerpt here because of the filth after the cut but here ya go:

———

“Anyone ever done this to you before?” Stevie asks teasingly…

as she buries the strap-on in Eddie’s pussy, grinding just a little deeper when her hips meet the back of Eddie’s thighs. “Fucked you with your own toy while you begged for more?”

Eddie’s only response is a whimper, muffled by the bedspread she’s hiding her face in. Stevie threads her fingers in Eddie’s hair, close to the scalp, and pulls her head upward. In Eddie’s current position on her elbows and knees, it forces her neck to crane uncomfortably.

“No,” Eddie gasps, “no, just you.”

“Good girl,” Stevie tells her with a smack! to her ass that makes Eddie clench just as Stevie is thrusting back into her.

She’s never heard this kind of noise from her own mouth before, a high-pitched stuttering cry for more. Eddie’s almost embarrassed for a moment, but then Stevie’s petting her flank like she’s a well-behaved pet and it’s so confusingly sexy that Eddie’s shame melts away like ChapStick in a hot van.

Stevie keeps up her slow and steady pace while her hand on Eddie’s ass rubs in comforting circles. “Okay, sweetheart?”

Eddie honestly doesn’t think she could form the words to explain if she wasn’t okay, but she is. She props one arm up to show Stevie a thumbs up.

Then Stevie’s fingers are digging into Eddie’s hips to pull her back onto the dildo, giving her the leverage to thrust harder. Eddie can hear their skin clapping together with each surge forward, the squelch of her cunt, the unconscious little ah, ah, ah noises pushed out of her with each stroke. The sound of Stevie fucking her might be the most amazing thing she’s ever heard.

“Look at you, being so good for me,” Stevie croons. Her voice jolts with the force of her movements.

Eddie doesn’t even know what else there is, but she’s begging Stevie, “More, please,” hoarse with wanting.

“Of course, baby, thank you for asking so nicely.”

Stevie does something that changes the angle of Eddie’s hips and suddenly the strap-on is hitting deeper than anything that’s ever been inside her. The fullness takes her breath away, especially when Stevie’s fucking her so hard that Eddie has to stick an arm out to keep her head from smashing into the fancy metal headboard of Stevie’s bed. It’s perfect.

“How’s that, sweetheart?”

Eddie sighs into the side of her outstretched arm. Her brain is so tingly with static that she can’t remember how to speak. Instead, she reaches her free hand behind her back as far as she can, waving it until Stevie takes the hint and interlaces their fingers.

“It’s just what you wanted, huh? My little slut, begging me to be rough with you.” Stevie speaks to her softly, squeezes her hand with a gentleness that doesn’t match the brutal movements of her hips. “You just needed me to fuck all those thoughts right out of your brain.”

She did. She had come home and asked for it, needing Stevie to get Eddie out of her head, and it was working. Stevie knows exactly what will drive Eddie into this mindless mess of pleasure: a little pain, a little edge of condescension in her caring words, a little too much stimulation. Rough, hard but slow, leaving Eddie helpless to her inevitable peak. It works every time. It’s working now.

“Why don’t you touch yourself for me, sweet girl?” Stevie leans over her to speak into Eddie’s ear. “Make yourself come on my cock.”

Eddie obeys automatically. She releases her death grip on the headboard, trusting Stevie’s hold on her to keep her from moving further up the bed, and snakes her arm under her body to toy with her clit. Just soft, glancing touches at first, the kind that make her stomach flutter. When she dips her fingers lower, she meets silicone, feels how her pussy stretches around the girth of the dildo.

Her moan comes out like a sob. “Please, please, Stevie.”

“I’ve got you, honey, you’re almost there.” Stevie showers kisses along her shoulders and the back of her neck. “Keep going just like that.”

Gathering the lubricant from around her entrance, Eddie drags her fingertips in clumsy circles around her clit. Oh, it’s good like this, when Eddie can forget everything else and just focus on bringing herself to the edge. She knows Stevie will take care of her, she just has to do this one little thing.

“Gonna come for me, baby? C’mon, I wanna feel you.”

Eddie hopes Stevie can feel her, the way her cunt is squeezing the strap-on, the wetness smearing halfway down Eddie’s thighs, the frantic motion of Eddie’s hand trying to push herself over the edge. Fuck, she’s so close, tightening up like she can’t bear for Stevie to stop, too much and not enough…

The tension snaps when Stevie bites down hard on Eddie’s neck.

She goes quiet when she comes, too strained and breathless for any sound to escape. Her orgasm brings tears to her eyes. She lets them fall onto the bedspread, imagining her stress falling away with each droplet that darkens the fabric. It’s pure relief, physically and mentally.

It’s not until her oversensitivity kicks in that Eddie’s voice comes back. Still without words, just a low groan that drags out while her toes curl in the blankets. It prompts Stevie to let up her merciless thrusts, slowing to a stop with the strap-on still inside Eddie.

“Is that better?” Stevie’s voice loses its faux-sweetness as she checks in. She sounds like the real Stevie now, a little anxious but full of love and genuine questions about Eddie’s wellbeing.

Eddie’s next exhale is a loud sigh. She doesn’t want to talk yet, wants to enjoy the quiet a little longer. But she knows Stevie needs an answer, so she hums, “Mmm-hmm.”

“Does your arm hurt?”

It has been twisted behind her for a while, Eddie has to admit. Reluctantly, she lets go of Stevie’s hand, flexing her fingers and dropping her arm to relax on the mattress next to her. It immediately relieves the pain in her shoulder that she had barely been aware of.

“There you go.” Stevie sits back on her heels, still not pulling out yet. “Anything else hurt?”

Eddie shakes her head. Her pussy is sore but that’s the good kind of hurt, not the bad kind Stevie means. She clenches around the dildo inside her to feel the ache flare again, like pressing on a bruise. It’s not too bad now that Stevie isn’t shoving it in as far as it can go. Eddie wishes it hurt just a little bit more.

“Do you want some water or something?”

No, she wants to lie here and feel Stevie’s warm skin against hers and bask in the love surrounding her and stay in this moment forever. The tears well up again and she shuts her eyes to stop them from overflowing.

“Okay, I’m going to grab a washcloth and clean you up a little—”

Eddie can’t stop the tears any more. “No!” she cries, knowing it’s going to make Stevie worry about her, which makes her cry even more.

Stevie shushes her and runs her hands up and down Eddie’s sides like she’s petting a nervous horse. “Okay, it’s okay. I’ll stay right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

She bites her tongue on an apology. Stevie always tells her she doesn’t have to be sorry for how she feels, especially not after a scene. It still feels wrong, making Stevie scramble to appease her. She definitely can’t say she’s sorry for being sorry, so she just sniffles into the bedspread instead.

“Is it okay for me to pull out, sweetheart? Then I can lay down and hold you.”

“Please?”

Stevie does just that, twisting awkwardly to shimmy out of the strap-on harness and settle next to Eddie without disturbing the bed too much. She pulls Eddie close, letting her head rest on her chest and combing her fingers through the sweaty tangle of Eddie’s hair. “How’s that?”

“Better,” Eddie croaks, and it’s not a lie. Her cheek is pillowed on one of Stevie’s fantastic tits, surrounded by strong arms and soft curves and shiny hair and sweet perfume.

“Good.” Stevie presses a kiss to the top of her head. “You were so good for me, baby. Did everything I asked.”

The praise settles into the hollow spaces inside Eddie, the part of her that feels empty without Stevie inside her. The praise fills her like she’s a helium balloon and Stevie’s arms around her are the ribbon tethering her to the ground so she doesn’t fly away.

She floats comfortably into sleep like that, held and loved and lighter than air.

[brujahinaskirt]

Okay, I obviously made the above post as a leetle joke, but since it's getting not insignificant traction, I do want to offer a more serious note.

I love this about Arthur. It's probably my favorite thing about him, but let me use this fresh new RDR2 meta post to clarify exactly what I mean. Despite the aspects of his personality & appearance that are traditionally hypermasculine, and despite how often he is annoyed with people (especially incompetents or people who meddle with his plans), Arthur is decidedly NOT annoyed by the social performance of femininity or by traits that are/were frequently stereotyped as feminine. Ever. Regardless of subject. I might go so far as to say he seems to canonically prefer hanging out with women and with "feminine" men.

Your long-winded, bullet-pointed analysis is below!

The Girls. Most noticeably, Arthur actually sits down to talk with and actively confides in the camp Girls (Tilly, Mary-Beth, Karen) more than anyone else around. These three are the most traditionally "girly" (single, 20s, active, pretty, unattached, highly social, feminine, chatty) members of the gang, though of course they are still criminals and don't perfectly adhere to all period-typical standards of feminine comportment. He doesn't mock the girls** like he sometimes does with other auxiliary members of the gang (like Uncle and Pearson, playful or not). Notably, he doesn't even gently tease Mary-Beth for writing her "silly" romance novels, a highly feminized hobby which she speaks about in a self-depreciating manner, much like Arthur speaks about his own artistic hobbies. Rather, he talks to her about writing like a peer and encourages her to write more by going out of his way to get her a nice pen. Crucially, there is no canon romantic or sexual interest in any of the girls on Arthur's behalf. He just feels the most comfortable in their company and seems to value their advice/opinions on life the most. To me, this is much stronger proof than his forever-burning torch for the cultured & ladylike Mary, which is (or was once) rooted in romantic desire. ** Unless the player persists in Antagonizing them, and these lines (while sometimes shockingly cruel and offhandedly sexual in nature; see Arthur teasing Tilly about pursuing Javier) are largely about goading them for laziness or, in Karen's case, her alcoholism. That said, many of the Antagonize lines strike me as clumsily tacked-on & poorly rooted in canon, which could indicate: (1) an Arthur who is deliberately trying to be disruptive (a generous interpretation), or (2) writers instructed to add throwaway content that will make a certain type of childishly misanthropic gamer (think 13 y.o. boys) squeal in glee with relatively low impact on the overall story.

Campmates. Following the above point... who doesn't Arthur hang out with much? The manly men of the gang; the very people social mores suggest he ought to be hanging out with. Bill, Micah, Joe, Cleet, and even Dutch. (To some extent, this includes John and Sean, but I'd say John sort of lives at the edges of gang life anyway, and Sean is, well, Sean.) Conversely, which male gang members does Arthur hang out with a lot? Sweet little bookish Lenny, a wordy, positive-energy, breezy intellectual who has just barely become an adult. Introspective, soft-voiced, long-haired Charles, who is traditionally masculine by some standards (strong, usually calm, can be standoffish) but decidedly NOT so when his appearance/demeanor is judged by the white Christian American male standards that began to dominate masculinity concepts in the later decades of the 1800s.

Algernon. Oh, my, Algernon. Arthur clearly dislikes Algernon's fancy, loud, outrageous clothing. But weirdly, he seems to like Algernon, not just tolerate him. Arthur in fact goes through significant personal discomfort to avoid hurting Algernon's feelings (the awful hat, the POST.MAN. sobbing), and he immediately says yes to having tea with him without any awareness of a coming business proposition, though half the time Arthur clearly has no fucking clue what Algernon is talking about. I am left to conclude that on some level, he just enjoys hearing Algernon talk, which is word-for-word what he says while listening to the Girls argue about romance novels ("I just like listening to you [all] talk." Hello????). I mean, for God's sake, he meets the man while he's choking to death on a nut at a fancy party, and the second thing Algernon does is tell him he looks like a guy who wears a corset. If anything was going to set off the boiling defensiveness of a dude who worships masculinity, thirty seconds with Algie would have done it.

Margaret, Mistress of Fucking Danger. It's pretty clear Arthur doesn't like Margaret. But that has little to do with Margaret's femininity & cross-dressing (this doesn't faze him at all when Charles Châtenay does it; more on that below) and everything to do with Margaret's deceptiveness and highly selective memory. It's not until the bullshittery unveils itself that Arthur starts getting visibly pissed off at Margaret. Conversely, Arthur does seem more positively disposed toward Sally Nash. (That said, this quest has a lot of problems and poorly aged lines that are depressingly easy for a politically motivated jerkoff to soundbite and miscast as Rockstar being pro-bigot. Cue 800 heterobnoxious gamerbro ARTHUR MORGAN ULTIMATE ANTI SNOWFLAKE SIGMA MALE OF THE WEST YouTube videos.)

Albert, my beloved. Rather than goading him to man up, Arthur tries to persuade Albert (whom he very obviously likes) to pick safer animal photography subjects, e.g. horses, and doesn't insult him for his lack of wilderness knowledge (an aspect of traditional manliness that is highly relevant to Arthur's lifestyle). You'd think he would tear into him for this shortcoming, given that they share so many of the same interests and passions, and IMO his genuine eagerness to serve as Albert's protector and facilitate his art is highly convincing evidence that Arthur does not necessarily view masculinity as a net positive.

Arthur is a basic goddamn boyfriend-hater. He pretty much harshly disapproves of every husband, boyfriend, male partner, etc. in the game and is very, very vocal about it... except one extremely unlikely candidate: Beau Gray. Weak, dandy artist Beau Gray, whom Arthur takes one look at and promptly hands the only gun to Penelope. Arthur is curt and impish to Beau at times, but helps him in his relationship troubles willingly (without collecting repayment), and seemingly for no other reason than the fact he can see that soft, fearful Beau is genuinely head-over-heels in love with Penelope. Is he projecting his own young love for Mary onto them? Maybe/probably, but Beau could not possibly be more different from young Arthur, and Arthur seems to believe this difference will make him a good husband for Penelope. A good husband, in Arthur's view, seems to simply be a man who ardently loves his beloved, regardless of his ability to provide for/protect her, and whose only goal in life is to live that life at her side. This is completely antithetical to mainstream late-1800s views on what constitutes a good husband and what it means to be a man.

Châtenay. Arthur shows us some of the most obvious delight and mirth he experiences in the game when he's hanging out with Charles "Allo Boys" Châtenay, who is straight up in drag a third of that time. This baffles Arthur a little, but doesn't disgust or repel him. I've written about this mission elsewhere at greater length because it is one of my favorite disasters, but it's worth mentioning here too.

Trelawny. Arthur clearly enjoys Trelawny despite his grumbly claims to the contrary. Most of these "claims" are just Arthur's established way of affectionate teasing (he does much the same with Uncle and Pearson, both of whom he genuinely likes). His authentic gripes about Trelawny are all about a perceived flightiness/lack of loyalty to the gang, not about his flamboyance. And even these gripes are half-assed, in Arthur's usual way.

Bluegills & Daisy Chains. One of the most genuine moments of softness we have with Arthur in RDR2 is when he takes Little Jack out of the camp to go fishing. Arthur's usually a much truer version of himself when he doesn't have to play the Big Bad Gang Lieutenant role, but this moment of escape is especially important, and not just because Arthur reveals his fondness for children and his natural understanding of how to talk to them. I notice this: Arthur tries to gently teach Jack about fishing, and Jack is completely fucking uninterested. Jack prefers to make flower chains for his mommy. Arthur doesn't scold him for his drifting attention or his lack of attraction to masculine past-times; on the contrary, Arthur goes out of his way to encourage and protect Jack's natural sweetness and innocence. That's a wild stance for a murdering outlaw to have re: the "next generation" of his family. Hell, I've encountered far too many 21st century dads in my own family who flip their shit when their tiny sons prefer hanging out with women & partaking in "womanly" hobbies like art, cooking, and flowers rather than hunting and fishing.

"...and be a god damn man." This seems like classic masculine bluster on the surface, but what does this keynote line mean in the context in which Arthur says it? Well, it's complicated. This statement serves as (a) Arthur's goodbye to John, (b) Arthur's final call to action for John, and (c) Arthur's last wish for his brother's life. But it certainly does not mean standing and fighting or being tough; i.e., "dying like a man." In that moment, it means abandoning all masculine bluster and revenge fantasy, and running away: leaving violence and fighting and brotherhood and all that crap behind to simply be there (alive, present) for your wife and son.

The Best Women People. Who are the best people Arthur knows, by his own crystal-clear declaration? Abigail and Sadie. Sadie's a rough-and-tumble, super-violent gunslinger and Abigail's a stubborn thief & a former sex worker (in the time Arthur has known her), but they are also, critically, two wives: the most traditional feminine role for a woman of the time period (and indeed perhaps most of human history once the concept of "wife" subsumed that of "mother"). It's also important to note that Arthur doesn't truly give up on Dutch until Dutch abandons Abigail, which serves as Arthur's point of no return. The other men left in the gang at this point specifically note that she's "just a woman" and not worth going back for. Arthur is straight-up shocked by all of this; he obviously considers her among the most worthwhile and value-having members of the gang, and certainly one of the most core members of the gang. Without any hesitation or doubt, the instant it's clear Dutch is cutting Abigail loose, Arthur declares: "That's that, then."

tl;dr: Arthur unironically prefers hanging out with women and queens and I love that for them.

[jadeleechsupportgroup]

Closet Prison

“And those pitiable robes return once more to their closet prison.”

You get trapped in Malleus’s closet. Well done.

malleus x reader

cw: none

also on ao3

You are starting to wonder how many different job titles you have collected so far in your short tenure at Night Raven College. Even if you gathered several of them under the ‘Janitor’ heading that Crowley had so proudly bestowed upon you on the first day, there were enough now to make for one hell of a résumé: Glasswork Repair Technician, Antique Plumbing Specialist, Magestone Recovery Agent, not to mention every version of the word ‘therapist’ that existed. Now, you suppose, you could add Laundry Cleanliness Coordinator to the list.

“I demand to speak with someone at once! This is an outrage!”

Ah, yes. How could you forget Customer Service Punching Bag.

You peek out to the front reception area, hiding between hanging garment bags and swiping your over-steamed hair out of your face. You could have easily - and correctly - guessed at the owner of the voice for several reasons, primary among them 1. This happens every week and 2. Anyone would know that voice because no one ever gets to stop hearing it.

No one is coming to his rescue, even though you know you are not the only one on a shift today. But you are the closest one to the door. You balance your fingertips on the white paneling and close your eyes, steeling yourself for battle, your best and brightest fake smile serving as both armor and weapon. You tuck your lint brush into your back pocket in case you need something portable that won’t leave a mark.

“Why, Sebek, fancy seeing you here,” you say in a voice not your own. Your Customer Service Voice is a different person. You don’t know her. “You’re looking very well.”

“No, I am not!” he shouts, rattling the change in the tip jar on the counter behind you. Before you can have a chance to react, he shoves a garment bag with a paper receipt into your face. “You have made a grave error, and you must pay for it immediately!”

Your smile wanes, but you stay strong. “Me? In particular? Are you sure?”

“Who else would have committed such an unforgivable act, human?!”

You fold your arms patiently. “Perhaps you could enlighten me as to the error of my ways?”

Sebek flings down the garment bag in disgust. You catch it, somewhat, but its heft and size make for an awkward movement, something Sebek no doubt enjoys. “Since humans are of such feeble mind, I shall, as they say, ‘spell it out for you.’”

His chest heaves, and you brace yourself for the volume that’s about to assault you and anyone else within a three-mile radius.

“You have misplaced the ceremonial robes belonging to the great Malleus Draconia!”

The urge to beat him over the head with the tip jar strikes you abruptly, but you file it away. Inside, a very small part of you does panic - did Malleus bring some valuable, irreplaceable robes from home? But then you realize what Sebek means, and all you can do is wonder whether you could make assault with a deadly weapon look like self defense.

You put on your Voice again. “Like, his orientation robes? I didn’t even see those come in.”

“Of course not! And now they have landed in someone else’s filthy, unworthy hands!”

“Okay, okay. Sheesh.” You hang up the offending garment bag and check the receipt. Sure as shit, it has Malleus’s name on it. You refrain from suggesting this is all part of an elaborate prank. It would be funny, but you’ve heard enough of Sebek’s voice for one day. “I’ll get it sorted out.”

“See that you do! And that you prepare an apology for Lord Malleus at once!”

You force yourself to take a deep breath and hold it until he storms out the door. The tip jar lives to see another day.

You go over the books and cross-check a few numbers. A simple mistake - someone accidentally skipped a line on one side of the page, so now the entries are misaligned. You check the tag on the inside of the robes and find Leona’s name embroidered on the lining.

The prospect of hiking across campus with a heavy garment bag longer than you are tall is hardly enticing, but you don’t have much of a choice. The last thing you want is for Sebek to come back in ten minutes demanding to know why you haven’t fixed everything by now. You pull on your coat and head outside.

It’s cool and cloudy out - probably normal September weather for some, but you hail from somewhere hotter this time of year, and you’re already cold. The chill hastens your steps as you make your way across the stones and grassy pathways to the Hall of Mirrors. You wish you had a giant mug of hot cocoa or spiced apple cider. One of each, you decide as you step through the Savanaclaw mirror.

The jump still leaves you queasy, but the warm humidity of the pocket dimension embraces you and eliminates the cold clinging to your shoulders. You wander past groups of students, trying to catch glimpses of their faces while avoiding eye contact. You don’t recognize anyone, so with a sigh, you plod toward the main building.

A tall beast-eared student leans against the wall of the entryway like some kind of bouncer. You’re hoping he’ll ignore you, but he stands to his full height and blocks your path.

“You lost?” he asks gruffly.

“I need to give these to Leona,” you say evenly, losing some of the bravado that empowered you against Sebek earlier. “His robes got mixed up with someone else’s.”

He leans in and sniffs the air around you, prompting you to move away, bringing a satisfied glint to his eye. His ears twitch, but he finally backs off and resumes his post. “Go on.”

You find yourself breathing a little more deeply in a vain attempt to slow your heart rate. It would not do to pass out from a panic attack in the midst of all these predators. It occurs to you that you don’t know where to find Leona, but you really don’t want to ask any of these people for directions, so you start wandering. You’re up the stairs and halfway down the hall when a door opens and a familiar head of sandy brown hair ducks out of it.

“…last time I help that guy with anything,” he grumbles to himself. He glances up at you, and his dour expression lifts a bit. “Hey, what’re you doing here?”

“Hi, Ruggie,” you say, breathless from the stairs. “I have Leona’s robes.” You have to pause for one huge breath. “They got switched around at the cleaners.”

Ruggie cackles. “That explains a lot. I’ll swap ’em out - he just went back to sleep.”

“Thanks.” You hand him the garment bag. He disappears back into the room, then returns with a different bag. Unfortunately, it’s no less long or heavy. You decide to fold it in half, hoping it will be a little easier to carry. “Best of luck with…whatever he’s having you do this time.” You gesture vaguely at the closed door.

“Haha, yeah.”

You’re almost too warm from all this manual labor by the time you re-enter the Hall of Mirrors, but the shock of cold that smacks you full force on the other side of the Diasomnia mirror leaves you instantly shivering. Is it always this cold in here? How does anyone stand it? The fog curling around the clusters of thorns at your feet does not help. Unlike at Savanaclaw, you don’t see any students milling about here. Just a long, lonely stone walkway winding up through the mist to the castle.

You hope just a little that the doors will be locked and you’ll have to leave, but no luck. The massive wooden doors are propped open, though nobody is standing guard here. They probably assume (correctly) that no one would waltz in here without a reason.

You try not to make it too obvious that you’ve never been in Diasomnia before, but there are plenty of things to gawk at in the lavishly-appointed lounge. Fine leather seating, antique wood tables that look like the much nicer versions of the ones in your dorm, expensive imported rugs - yet even with all that, and the flickering green candle flames dotting the room, the whole space feels…vacant. Lacking. And cold. So cold you can smell the stone.

“H- hello?” you call out, losing what little courage you had remaining. You consider leaving the garment bag on the nearest chair and escaping to safety, but a set of footsteps catches your attention.

“Why, good afternoon,” says a sunny, cordial voice completely at odds with your surroundings. He smiles and tilts his head to one side. “What can I do for you?”

“Lilia, right?” you guess, and to your relief he nods in response. “I’m just returning these.” You set the garment bag down, suddenly aware of how badly you were scrunching it. “Malleus’s robes,” you add.

Lilia blinks his bright cerise eyes. “Oh, that must be where Sebek went in such a hurry.” He allows himself a light chuckle. “You didn’t need to come all this way just to bring these back.”

“Yeah? Sebek was ready to burn me at the stake for it, so…” You frown over the state of the garment bag. You didn’t mean to crumple it so badly, but it just got so freaking heavy after more than a few minutes. “Would it be alright if I brush these out before I go? They probably got wrinkled, and I’ve reached my quota of stake burnings for the month.”

“Of course!” Lilia seems a little overjoyed at the idea of a visitor, but at least he is polite and appreciative of your efforts. “Right this way.”

You have to endure another set of stairs, passing by an enormous bat-winged chair at the top that would be practically comical in any other situation. Lilia trots along merrily ahead of you, humming to himself as you study the iron latticework of the huge windows lining the hall. Outside, you catch glimpses here and there of the gargoyles that stand guard along the parapets. The green firelight casts shadows through the grating that appear to bring their carved stone faces to life.

“Do you like architecture?” Lilia asks, bringing you out of your musings.

“Yeah, I guess so. This is all…very different from what I’m used to.”

“Well, you are certainly free to stop by at any time. We love having visitors.”

Lilia stops at a set of double doors and tugs them open before leading you inside. He looks about to say something when his watch chirps at him. He checks it curiously. “Hm? Oh, of course. We have a club meeting - I nearly forgot.” He offers you another kind smile. “I’m afraid I must take my leave, but I trust you can find your way out?”

“Pretty sure.” You balance the garment bag on one arm while you try to open the closet doors with your other hand. There’s an absolutely frigid draft in here, strong enough to disturb the curtains, and you wonder if Malleus is one of those monstrous types that sleeps with the windows open. “Thanks.”

“Oh, and be careful with that door. It can stick a little.”

With that, he bounces out of the room.

You hook the hanger over the closet railing and unzip the bag. The damage is minimal, actually; the robes’ heavy brocade fabric is pretty resilient as long as it’s dry. But you spot a few dozen hairs that must belong to Leona. You’re glad you brought the lint brush now.

The cold draft of air spills over your shoulders and freezes your hands. This is getting downright ridiculous. You step back into the main room and go to close the windows, but they’re already closed. The breeze is just there. You grumble to yourself about having two hot cocoas and two apple ciders upon your return home and go back to your work.

Malleus’s entire room looks like it hardly receives any use at all. Whether due to his position as housewarden or his family name, his closet is larger than what you would expect for a dorm room, large enough to stand in comfortably. (Although, for him, you think, perhaps not, as his horns might brush the ceiling. That would be funny.).

You can hardly concentrate because it’s so damn cold. You finally get fed up with it and pull the closet door most of the way shut behind you, leaving just enough of a gap for light to enter. The relief is instantaneous.

You carefully brush and straighten the robes, ensuring all the stray hairs and lint fluffs are removed, trimming a stray thread here and there. You run your fingers over the specially tailored openings in the hood. They’ve been hand-sewn by an expert, even adorned with their own decorative embroidery. You appreciate the craftsmanship, knowing that few people would notice it, let alone care.

As if enraged by your attempts to thwart its presence, the draft of air returns with a vengeance and slams the closet door. You jump - at the noise, the sudden inky darkness, the freshly chilled breeze - and, feeling indignant about it, you push on the door.

Only, it doesn’t open.

You try again to no avail. Then you try pulling on the door, just in case, but it budges even less. You push against it with your shoulder, wondering if this is Sebek’s magical idea of a joke or a punishment, but you’re fairly certain he would rather die than leave you unattended in Malleus’s room. You listen carefully, but you hear no footsteps or voices. Lilia already said he was leaving.

Okay, calm down. Think. And keep throwing yourself into the door while you do it.

You can’t understand why it’s not working. Maybe there’s a magic seal on it. Or maybe you’re just weak. Weak and pathetic.

Frustration turns into a combination of anger and fear and sad. You hate that you’re not able to open the damn door. You hate that you’re getting so worked up over not being able to open the damn door. You hate that thinking about that isn’t enough to make you stop.

“Hello?” you try calling out, but there’s no response. You yell a few more times and knock on the wood for good measure. It changes nothing.

You slump down to the floor and try to breathe. It’s not the dark or the enclosed space that gets to you. Good thing, too, or orientation day would have been a lot more graphic for your audience. It’s just that the whole thing makes you feel…

…stupid.

Your eyes are adjusting to the dark, for all the good it does you, which is hardly any. And the cold breeze has now permeated the supposedly impenetrable barrier, so you’re shivering now, too. You reach up and feel the hem of the robes that caused you all this trouble.

Well, it hardly matters now.

You tug them off of the hanger and snuggle into them. A gentle, woodsy perfume wafts up from the depths of the silk lining, subtle but strong in the enclosed space. You press the fabric to your face and draw in a deep breath. The smell soothes your nerves - fallen leaves, pine needles, fresh rain, even a touch of mycelium.

You don’t have forests around where you’re from. You’ve been to them a few times, sure, on camping trips and one brief foray into the world of hiking, but none of them smelled quite like this.

You lie on your side and stare up in the general direction of the ceiling. The breeze hits your face, so you pull the hood down to shield yourself. You would laugh at how ridiculous this is, but you’re too worn out to care. You roll onto your side and let your eyes loll shut.

“-classes today?”

You mentally tell the voices to go away. You haven’t slept this well in ages.

“They were adequate. I shall go to the library later to acquire some other materials.”

You don’t want to get up. Even though you’re not really that comfortable…

“Excellent idea, my liege! I shall be honored to acquire all the necessary books for you!”

Your eyes shoot open. You’re not dreaming anymore.

The past few minutes - hours? - come back to you, and you scramble to sit up, fumbling with the robes you were using as a blanket. You’re about to try the door again when the voices come back.

“Do not trouble yourself on my behalf, Sebek. I am quite capable.”

“It’s no trouble, my liege!”

You sink back against the wall and try to control your breathing. You don’t even want to imagine what Sebek will say if he finds you like this. Whatever it is, it will cause permanent hearing loss.

You sit in the dark and wait.

“Very well, Sebek.”

“Thank you, Lord Malleus!”

You grit your teeth in annoyance and wish Sebek would go buy a personality since he doesn’t have his own. No wonder Malleus looks to be in such a dour mood all the time. He must have eternal patience to tolerate someone like that. You wouldn’t last ten minutes-

Light suddenly bursts in front of your eyes and blinds you. You squint and hold up one hand to shield your face against the brightness.

Malleus blinks down at you.

You wonder, briefly, what this must look like to his eyes. You, disheveled, wrapped in his ceremonial robes, on the floor of his closet. You are positive that every blood cell in your body is rushing to your face.

You don’t even have time to stand up.

Malleus steps inside and closes the door, plunging you into darkness once again.

“Wh-?”

“Shhh,” he whispers with hardly a breath of air. A rustle of fabric, and his hand locates yours without any of the blind searching you would have done. He helps you stand.

“Behold, Silver! I have been chosen to accompany Lord Malleus to the library!”

“Sure thing, Seb…”

You giggle before you can stop yourself, then clamp your hand over your mouth in a vain attempt to shut yourself up.

“S-sorry,” you stammer hopelessly. “I didn’t, um. It’s a long story.”

Heat soars to your face when Malleus closes his hand over your mouth.

“Shhh,” he says again. You can’t see a thing in the dark, but you can tell he’s listening. He must still faintly hear their voices. You have no idea. You can’t hear a thing over the fervent hammering of your blood against your bones.

You have no idea how long you both stay like that, unmoving, but eventually he pulls his hand away from your mouth. You take several panicked breaths even though you were breathing just fine.

He seems alarmed. “Have I injured you?”

“No, no. Sorry.” You give up and laugh, first from nerves, then relief. “I’ve just been stuck in here for…hours, I guess.”

A bulb of green firelight winks into existence and hovers above your head, where it casts sharp shadows over Malleus’s features. You think of the gargoyle statues. But rather than fierce and intimidating, he looks amused.

“Lilia mentioned that you dropped by to return my robes,” he says. “Did he not warn you about the door?”

You scoff. “He said it sticks a little. Not that I would need inhuman strength to open it.”

Malleus reaches forward and gently tugs the hood off of your head. You forgot you’re still wearing the robes and start to pull them off, but he stops you.

A smile seems to flit across his face, though it may be a trick of the light.

“They suit you,” he says with a low, delicate laugh that turns your heart upside down in your chest. “At least someone has found a use for them.”

“It was cold in here,” you reply lamely.

He leans in close enough that the heat from his breath dances across your nose. “And now?”

You are certain he can hear your pulse louder than you can. One hand is still holding yours, but the other he lifts to the side of your face, brushing the backs of his fingers over your cheek and ear before sweeping through your hair. You close your eyes and sigh into his mouth.

He holds you as though you are fragile, yet something he does not intend to let go. He mirrors your movements, letting you choose how deep or delicate the kiss, sliding his hand down your back to hold you closer. Everything shows that he wants to be careful with you.

Fireworks burst in your heart and under his hands. You reach up to his face, run your fingers through the liquid silk of his hair. Forest and rain and fresh earth overwhelm you, and you realize faintly that it’s not a cologne or anything artificial. It’s the smell of his skin.

You barely nudge the side of his horn with a fingertip. He laughs against your lips and has to pull away.

“Sorry,” you say breathlessly. “I didn’t mean to…”

Malleus brushes your fingers against his mouth, then cradles your hand to the side of his face. “You simply caught me by surprise. That is all.”

“You first.”

You catch sight of his grin before he snuffs out the green flame. “I only wish this had happened sooner,” he says, wrapping both arms around you. You do, too, though what he next murmurs against your ear suggests that his reasons differ slightly from your own. “What a marvelous hiding place.”