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sonarspace · 6 months ago

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new throne, sukuna

synopsis: sukuna lets you try out a new throne. content: mdni. nsfw. cunnilingus. sex. orgasms. blood play (kinda?). wc: 1.6k (not proofread!) a/n: a little something until i work on a request. it’s kinda all over the place 😭.

𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞 sukuna surprises you in the kitchen while you’re cooking. you yelp as you feel his arms wrap around your figure – pulling you back into his chest. “what’re you making?” he whispers in your ear, giving it a sweet peck. “your favorite stew,” you chirp.

he hums into your neck, content. he notices your hand stirring the stew slowing down at the way his lips linger over your skin. “don’t mind me, baby. just wanna see how you cook,” he says calmly placing a kiss at the back of your head.

you continue stirring the pot trying to get everything nicely soaked and cooked. “just like that honey. keep cooking for your king,” he teases – kissing your shoulder.

your hand pauses in anticipation. “why are you stopping, my love? do you not want to feed your king anymore?” he asks with faux offense. “sukuna,” you gasp and drop the laddle when you feel his tongue on your exposed shoulder. his tongue tracing a path to your neck and biting at the soft flesh under your jaw.

“tsk. tsk. don’t stop cooking” he says. “you’re distracting me,” you whimper when he bites at your earlobe. his heavy breath pattering your neck making goosebumps rise up your skin.

“so submissive” he whispers under his breath – snaking a hand under your dress. his fingers dancing across the skin of your thigh. his fingernails scratch lightly. you’re sure if his fingers moved further up, he’d be able to feel how wet you already are.

you turn off the stove “it’s done!” he halts his movements and unlatches his lips from your neck. he grabs a chair and sits down behind you as you pour the stew into a bowl. you turn towards him with a smile and he pulls you onto his lap.

you grab the spoon and bring it up to his lips. he pokes his tongue out and slurps it off the spoon. his eyes gazing into yours intensely. his eyes close as the stew coats his tastes buds and goes down his throat. he hums in satisfaction, a contented smile on his lips.

he takes the spoon from your hand and brings it up to your lips. “say aahh,” he jokes and you comply opening your mouth. “how does it taste?” he raises an eyebrow. “wow! i’m a really good cook” you pipe confidently. he kisses you in return and you giggle.

your laughter flows into his mouth and engraves itself into the blood that pumps his heart. he leans his forehead against yours – unable to stop his own smile. “feed your king,” he demands in jest and you do so gladly. his pair of lower hands keeps you in his grasp as you adjust yourself in his lap. you dip a piece of bread into the stew and feed him. his third hand snakes between your legs rubbing at the skin of your inner thigh mindlessly.

“thank you my love,” he says appreciatively finishing up the bowl of stew. you get off his lap and clean the dishes as he watches you intently. his heart fluttering at the way you move around the kitchen so gracefully. your ass swaying left and right as you washes the dirty dishes. a strand loosens from your bun and kisses your cheek.

he gets up and moves behind you once more. “wanna have dessert?” he kisses the side of your head and you already know where this was going. a knowing smile curves your lips and you turn around in his arms. “can you just fuck me already,” you groan catching him off guard.

his eyebrows shoot up in astonishment. his mouth hangs open and he lets out shocked laugh. “i was genuinely asking, you know,” he adds “but if that’s what you want then who am i to deny my queen”. his hands move under you thighs, picking you up. you lean closer placing your hands around his neck – fingers scratching his nape and he moans into the kiss.

“you drive me insane,” he doesn’t even make it to the bedroom. he pushes your body up the closest wall. holding you up with two hands while the other two move over your body ripping any layers that stop your skin from touching his. “kuna!” you gasp. “i liked those,” you pout when he rips off your underwear.

“sorry baby, promise i’ll buy as many pairs as you want later. just need to see your cunt. is she wet for me?” his words are tantalizing making you heat up. he snickers at your silence, “didn’t even do anything yet, don’t go quiet on me so soon”.

he picks you up further – holding you high in the air and you yell his name “sukuna, put me down!” he tuts at you. “i’m not going to drop you.” before you can object any further his mouth is on you. your words of protest turn into moans of pleasure “ahhh. ahh.”

his two hands are still under your thighs making you feel like you were sitting on a chair. his other pair of hands massage your boobs. your nipples perked up from the cold air but mostly from his tongue plunging into your cunt.

and he eats you out so messily. your juices all over his face. he rubs his nose up and down your clit, your hands tug his hair a bit roughly and he growls into your cunt. “harder baby” he requests.

his cock strains against his pants as you let out sweet sounds losing yourself to the bliss. “oh my go– ahh! sukuna, ‘m close.” he continues lapping up your sweet arousal. your walls contract around his tongue while his nose stimulates your clit.

he could feel every inch of your gummy walls as you cum loudly. your eyes shutting and your grip tightening on his head – keeping him close to your cunt. finally he brings you down to level with him. “how’d you like your new throne?” he slurs – high off your taste.

“like it better when i can ride it,” you counter with a grin. “you wanna ride me?” he cocks an eyebrow. “think you can get us both off, huh”. he relishes the way you always surprise him. never a dull day when you’re together. “sure can, kuna. let me take care of us,” you utter tenderly resting your hand on his cheek.

he moves over to the couch. sitting down with you on his lap. you pull him out of his pants. his length growing at your touch – fully erect now. he pulls down your bottom lip “matches,” he looks down at his tip – a dark shade of pink. your stomach clenches at his comment – wanting to feel him coat your insides.

you waste no time and raise your hips, dragging his cock through your plushy folds before sinking down on him. “fuck,” you both moan in unison. “take your time,” he assures you. you let your head fall to his chest breathing heavily as your walls adjust to his size. you begin slowly grinding your hips.

his second cock pokes against your thigh – a bit thicker than his first and the tip’s a flushed red leaking pre-cum. almost angry at the lack of attention. you pump his cock as you pick up the pace. you start bouncing on his lap. he leans back resting his head on two arms – a cocky expression plastered across his face.

his tip starts nudging into that one spot that has you turning into putty. your walls squeeze around him so deliciously faltering that smug expression of his. you match the rhythm of your hips bouncing on his cock to the rhythm of your hand jerking his second cock. his throat goes dry as he gasps silent moans into the space between you two.

“my smart mouthed throne’s gone silent on me,” you tease him. you know you were pushing him but he’s too lost in the feeling of your snug cunt to care. “ahha! you feel too good darling,” he speaks at last. his fingers move over your boobs. he alternates between rubbing, pulling, and pressing down on your perked nipples. the sensation makes you shudder slightly in his lap – you were sure if he kept it up you’d cum.

your free hand grabs his throat pulling him into a kiss. he keeps a hold on your boobs – caressing and squeezing them so gently. your ass continues smacking down on his thighs as his cock pulses inside you. your tongue swipes against his, sucking him into your mouth eagerly. he places his hands on your hips. his grip is almost bruising as he reaches closer to his limit.

he bites down on your lip as he spills over your hand without warning. a metallic taste coats both your tongues, a speckle of blood on your lip from where he bit. he pulls back stopping your movements. “fuck, sorry!” he apologizes instantly feeling bad for hurting you.

but you kiss him back biting down on his lips and drawing blood as he did to yours. you lick it off his lips and let it fall down into his mouth. and he understands immediately. it felt euphoric. he leans back with you in his arms. he keeps his lips locked on yours as he starts fucking up into you. a mixture of saliva and blood passing between your mouths.

his cock head presses against your g-spot, triggering your orgasm. you groan into his mouth and he growls in return as he paints your walls white. he breathes heavily against your mouth. blood still dribbling from both of your lips. your matching grins as you lock eyes. this moment’s unveiled a new side to both of you. you’re both thinking the same thing: the sex is about to get crazier. 𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞𓇼 ⋆｡〰️⋆｡˚𖦹 ⋆𓆞

a/n: comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated!

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hoshifighting · 10 months ago

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Okay... But what if Y/n tells his best friend, Wonwoo, since highschool that she wants to join as a stripper as a joke. But then Wonwoo asks her to do a sexy dance in front of him, and Y/n played along, dancing, stripping naked in front of him and rode his lap with him still wearing shorts, until Wonwoo couldn’t hold back and fucked her hard.

— Warnings: Smut, lap dance, reader jokes ab being a stripper (all respect to the profession), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, best friends, stripping. — WC: 2k

It was a typical Friday evening, and you found yourself lounging on the couch with your best friend, Wonwoo. The two of you had been inseparable since high school, forming an unlikely but unbreakable bond. Wonwoo, with his quiet demeanor, was the yin to your yang. While he navigated life with a calm and collected approach, you were the unabashed extrovert, always seeking excitement.

As the evening progressed, you couldn't resist the urge to stir the pot a bit. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you turned to Wonwoo and blurted out, "Hey, Wonwoo, you know what I've been thinking lately?"

"What's on your mind, Y/n?" Wonwoo replied, his eyes reflecting curiosity.

"I was thinking of becoming a stripper."

Wonwoo's face immediately furrowed in confusion, his eyebrows knitting together. He blinked a few times, processing the unexpected revelation. You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he struggled to comprehend your words.

"Wait, what? A stripper?" Wonwoo finally managed to articulate, his voice laced with bewilderment.

You chuckled at his reaction, fully aware of the stark contrast between your outgoing nature and Wonwoo's reserved personality. "Nah, Wonwoo, it's just a joke! Can you imagine me on a stage, dancing in front of strangers?"

His furrowed brow deepened as he tried to process the information. "You...want to be a stripper as a joke?"

"Yeah!"

Wonwoo let out a sigh of relief, his furrowed brow relaxing. "You scared me there for a moment. I couldn't picture you doing something like that."

The truth is, Wonwoo was a fucking liar.

However, deep down, Wonwoo couldn't deny the vivid image that flashed in his mind at your mention of becoming a stripper. The mental image of you dancing around a pole in skimpy clothing lingered, creating an unexpected tension in the room. He quickly brushed aside the intrusive thoughts, trying to focus on the conversation.

You noticed the subtle shift in his demeanor and couldn't help but tease him. "Oh, come on, Wonwoo. Are you sure you can't picture it? I bet I'd be the star of the show!"

Wonwoo's cheeks flushed slightly as he awkwardly coughed, attempting to dispel the lingering mental image. "No, Y/n. Let's not even entertain that idea. It's just not you."

With a sly grin, you turned to him and asked, "Wait, are you saying I'm not hot enough for that kind of job, Wonwoo?"

Wonwoo's eyes widened as he frantically shook his head. "No, no! That's not what I meant at all!"

But his reddening cheeks and ears told a different story. You couldn't help but revel in the mischief, adopting a mischievous expression. "Oh, I see. So, you do think I'm hot?"

Wonwoo stammered, trying to backtrack, "I-I didn't say that. I just meant, um, it's not something I could imagine you doing. Not because of how you look!" His eyes darted away, and he mumbled, "Well, I mean, you're... You're pretty, very pretty."

He couldn't help but attribute his discomfort to more than just the thought of you pole dancing—it was the unspoken crush he harbored on you. Each playful comment seemed to amplify his self-consciousness, making him acutely aware of the feelings he kept under wraps.

Attempting to steer the conversation away from the provocative topic, you chimed in, "You know, it's not like I genuinely want to be a stripper. But I've always thought it would be fun to dance for someone, you know? Just to let loose and have a good time."

Wonwoo's eyebrows shot up, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of surprise at your revelation. The notion of you wanting to dance for someone, while not necessarily in a provocative way, fueled his imagination, igniting a subtle curiosity.

"Oh, really?" he responded, his voice betraying a hint of intrigue. "Dance for someone, like, just casually?"

You nodded, a playful glint in your eyes. "Yeah! I mean, not in a professional setting, but just dancing for someone special. It sounds like it could be a lot of fun, don't you think?"

Wonwoo's mind raced, grappling with the newfound information. His gaze focused on you, and with a hesitant smile. "Hey, Y/n," he began, his voice softer than usual, "you mentioned wanting to dance for someone. Would you... uh, would you mind dancing for me?"

He fidgeted with the edge of his sleeve, his cheeks tinged with a subtle blush.

Your eyebrows raised in surprise, and a playful grin formed on your lips. "Oh, really? Wonwoo, are you asking me for a dance?"

"Well, you know, you mentioned it, and I thought it might be... nice. I mean, if you're comfortable with it."

You couldn't help but find his shy request endearing. "Sure, Wonwoo. But you have to promise not to laugh at my moves. I can't promise they'll be any good."

Wonwoo chuckled nervously, "I'm sure you'll be great."

Your hands found the hem of your shirt, and with a playful grin, you tossed your clothing aside, letting it land somewhere in the living room. Wonwoo's eyes widened behind his glasses, focusing on your exposed tits, his usually composed demeanor giving way to a hint of surprise and curiosity.

His voice came out as a soft whisper, "Does this... does this make part of the dance too?"

You simply nodded, your own confidence shining through. "Of course!"

The room was filled with the sultry beat of the music as you continued to move, your hands gracefully making contact with your body. Wonwoo couldn't tear his eyes away, the subtle allure of the moment captivating his senses. The dancing became a mesmerizing display, the connection between you and Wonwoo growing hotter with each passing moment.

As the music's tempo intensified, you decided to take it a step further. With a bold move, you gracefully moved to sit on Wonwoo's lap, your dance becoming more provocative. His breath caught in his throat as your movements became a sensuous exploration, his heart pounding in his chest.

Your hips moved up and down, back and forth, and of course the bulge inside of his pants grew harder. Wonwoo, attempting to maintain a semblance of composure, let his hands find your hips. He tried to disguise the effect your movements were having on him, not wanting to make it obvious how affected he was. Your hips moved in a tantalizing rhythm against his, and Wonwoo felt a surge of lust that he struggled to conceal.

Unexpectedly, a low, sensual moan escaped your lips, hanging in the air like a shared secret. Wonwoo's ears caught the sound, and a jolt of awareness ran through him. Did he hear that right?

His hands instinctively pushed your hips down, a silent plea for you to continue. The dance resumed, and your hips moved deliciously against his. Wonwoo bit his lip, desperately trying to contain the desire that surged through him.

"Hm… Wonwoo…"

Wonwoo swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper, "Y/n."

In the blink of an eye, the delicate balance of composure that Wonwoo had been struggling to maintain shattered. His hand found its way to the nape of your neck, pulling you into a hungry, passionate kiss. The air crackled as your lips met, the tension between you finally finding release.

Wonwoo's free hand moved with a sense of urgency, grabbing your ass through the material of your shorts that still clung to your body. The touch was both possessive and hungry, his tongue fought yours, and your hips continued to grind on his dick.

Your hardened nipples were pressed on his chest, and he felt that, also, he felt your wetness soaking his pants through your shorts. His mouth found its way to your neck, leaving a trail of eager kisses. The soft touch of his lips sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but let out a soft gasp as his kisses ventured down towards your bust. His hands, now firmly gripping your tits.

He slowly guided you to lie on the couch. The air was thick with anticipation as his hands skillfully worked on the buttons of your shorts, his touch sending a cascade of sensations through your body.

With a deliberate slowness, he slid the clothing down your legs along with your panties. In the charged atmosphere of the room, as Wonwoo lowered his head closer to your thighs, you felt a sudden surge of impatience and need. Your hands gently pressed against his shoulders, halting his descent, and you looked into his eyes with a sense of urgency.

"Please, Wonwoo," you pleaded, your voice a breathy whisper. "Hurry, I need you."

His dark eyes met yours, the intensity of the moment reflected in the depths of his gaze. Understanding the urgency in your plea, Wonwoo's movements became more purposeful. With a swift motion, he aligned himself with your pussy, his pants and underwear also thrown around.

The hot head of his cock rubbed against your entrance. He entered slowly so he didn't hurt you, since you didn't even want to wait for him to prepare you. "How did you get so wet?" he asked, his voice laced with a mixture of wonder and desire.

Rolling your eyes in response, you could only manage a breathless murmur, "You," the single word encapsulating the effect he had on you.

His cock stretched your walls perfectly, loving the fullness of Wonwoo, the initial discomfort giving way to a wave of pleasure. As Wonwoo's breath danced across your skin, his nose taking in the scent of your skin, a shiver ran down your spine.

The throbbing length of his cock being squeezed by your wet walls, until his pelvis hits yours, a relief moan leaves your lips, as Wonwoo kisses your cheeks, his hips slowly starting to thrust into you.

Your skin slapped together as he thrusted into you harder, making your body squirm under him. Meanwhile, Wonwoo admired the scene. How can a simple dance take him to paradise? He felt like he was seeing a work of art that some divine being had forbidden him from for so long.

Your breasts bounced with each thrust, your pussy making him wetter by the second, and your moans were driving him to the brink of an orgasm. "F-fuck Wonwoo yes! Right here!"

The explicit encouragement fueled a surge of energy within him, and Wonwoo, driven crazy by you, found the strength to respond. His movements became more purposeful, with a renewed vigor, he shifted your legs, pushing your knees toward your chest, deepening his cock inside of your pussy abusing the g'spot.

As you drooled from the corners of your mouth, the sheer pleasure and desire took over. In a breathless symphony, you cried out his name, as the climax overtook you, you felt yourself clenching uncontrollably around his cock, making him moan the loudest.

Leaving an indelible mark on the couch beneath you, his cock throbbed inside of your pussy, the white hot spurts, being spilled inside of you, while you could only mumble his name softly enough to make him melt over you.

The air hung with a sense of ease and contentment as you found yourself still catching your breath, your voice reduced to a soft murmur of his name. Wonwoo, lying atop you, he couldn't help but savor the tender sound.

"Mmm, Wonwoo," you whispered, the quiet intimacy in your voice reflecting the connection between you two.

He stayed nestled on top of you, his weight providing a comforting support as you both recovered. Wonwoo looked into your eyes, a gentleness in his expression that hadn't surfaced before. "You know," he started, a playful glint in his eyes, "I think I want you to dance for me more often."

A genuine laugh escaped your lips, pleasantly surprised by his unexpected comment. "Oh, really? You enjoyed the show that much, Wonwoo?"

He nodded, his cheeks sporting a subtle blush. "Yeah, it was...unexpected, but I liked it. A lot."

Unable to resist a bit of teasing, you reveled in the sight of a more playful and confident Wonwoo. "So, you're saying you want a private dance performance on demand?"

Wonwoo's shy demeanor returned, but this time, accompanied by a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Maybe...just a little. It was...nice."

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 9 months ago

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Who wears the pants. || husband!John Price

[MASTERLIST]

Rating: M Words: 3.4K without the extra!! (this one got away from me, I'm sorry.) Pairing: husband!John x wife!reader CW: quick smut!, yelling mentioned, slightly dubcon (if you squint), john got angry and jealous Tags: you/your pronouns, afab!reader, smut, fingering-ish, slight exhibitionism, love bites and marks, established relationship, jealous!john price, anger mentioned, ghost's stirring the pot. Summary: John is embarrassed of the fact you 'wear the pants' in your relationship... But only after the lads come to stay over and a snarky comment from Simon, does he decide to show you what's what. a/n: my first attempt at writing smut that I wanted to post... Also Ghost/Simon is a dick in this one...

John simultaneously is and is not ashamed to say how much he loves you.

Of course, he loves you to bits, finds you the most stunning woman he’s ever seen, and would kill and die for you in a heartbeat. His love was the epitome of “If I ever were to lose you, I'd surely lose myself.”

However, he would never risk introducing you to his teammates. Not if he can avoid it. And not just because he cares about you and wants to keep you away from prying eyes, safe and sound in your family home…

More like… they don’t need to know how John purrs when you scratch his beard right beneath his chin and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. They don’t need to see how his pupils almost morph into hearts equally if he sees you in one of his shirts, or in your work clothes, or in joggers and a sweaty t-shirt, or a sexy little number, or nude…

And they especially don’t need to know that their tough-as-nails Captain figuratively rolls over and bares his neck in submission when in the presence of his wife… Or that your voice is like a goddamn foghorn making him genuinely quake in a way he hasn’t since he was a boy at Sandhurst, getting yelled at by drill sergeants…

He hasn’t left the toilet seat up in 12 years. Hasn’t tracked mud into your shared home (whose floors you had just mopped!) in 10. Hasn’t eaten the last of your snacks or used the last of the tea bags without replacing it in 6.

There is no weaponized incompetence in your home because you know John is not incompetent and you will not allow him to feign being it to make you his maid. You take care of him and your home, and you refuse to let him disrespect you in any way… And he knows better than to try.

His teammates have no idea how hopelessly in love he is with you. With the way you seize control from him in a way he allows no one else to. Not his soldiers, not the rest of his family. He’s been the ‘man’ of the house in all aspects for as long as he can remember… But that stops the moment he crosses the threshold of the front door, hangs his coat and his gear in the hall closet, and pads through the home in search of you.

He always finds you busying yourself with something or other and you beckon him close like a puppy, with a pat on the chair next to yours as you work at the dining table, or a come hither motion of the fingers as you water the plants, or reach your arms out for a hug as you stand atop a ladder halfway through repainting the accent wall in the living room. He always hugs and burrows himself in you, inhaling your scent, basking in your warmth, leaving kisses and touches in every inch of exposed skin.

He’s not embarrassed of you, he’ll gladly shout out to the world about his love for you. But he’s embarrassed by how he acts around you. Soap and Gaz would tell him he’s “whipped” if they ever knew what you do to him. So he doesn’t want them to meet you.

But he doesn’t have a choice. December 23rd, at 11 P.M., he and the lads have just touched down from a mission. The weather forecast speaks of a rainstorm and severe weather warnings extending right over Christmas… And John knows what he must do.

So disgruntled, your husband walks off to his office and calls you. In a low tone of voice, almost hushed, because he woke you up, he grumbles about the storm, about how Soap won’t be able to drive up to Scotland for Christmas, that Gaz can probably risk driving to Birmingham, but it’s still pretty unsafe, and that Ghost, as usual, was going to lock himself in his quarters on base and drink himself until he passes out…

You don’t need to be told again. You spring into action immediately. You simply reply that you’re getting up and getting the guest rooms ready, asking if one of the lads would mind getting the pull-out sofa in John’s study, and telling John to drive safe, that the roads are dangerous with the rain…

It’s midnight when you hear the front door opening, and the hall light turns on, flooding the space with a bright warm-toned yellow-ish light. “Shoes off, you lot. The missus doesn’t want water or mud inside.” He demands in a gruff tone.

As they go about unzipping coats and undoing their muddy boots, you can hear John still chastising them. “I’ll stress again: I want you on your best behaviour. No work talk, no cursing, no disrespect. The missus is doin’ you a favour.” He adds as if the poor lads are children who cannot be trusted to be polite.

Unbeknownst to you, he had already spent the whole drive over from base warning them about picking up after themselves, about being respectful to you, about putting the toilet seat down, about making their beds… reaming them out as if they were wild animals who had never once been inside a house and would break and dirty up everything they touch.

You move to stand at the step that separates the lowered entryway from the sitting room, silently observing them, arms crossed as you lean your shoulder against the wall, wearing a robe and your house slippers as you look at them.

They’re all taller than you, moving surprisingly efficiently and quietly, trying not to disturb the peaceful home too much. They’re dripping wet, probably from rushing from the car in the driveway up to the front stoop. A set of four backpacks or duffle bags are on the floor by the door, their clothes for the days they’ll spend here inside.

“Give them a break, Jonathan, you can keep bossing them around in the morning, love.” You quip and you immediately feel all their backs stiffen, four pairs of eyes glued to you.

“Hi, lovie…” John says, already crossing the small entryway to wrap his arms around your waist, dropping a deep open-mouthed kiss to your awaiting lips. Your hand touches his face, caressing his cheek over his mutton chops.

“Steamin’ Jesus, the Captain’s got taste…” You hear a voice murmur, followed by a sharp ‘ow, what was that fo’?’ which causes both you and John to look at the other soldiers. The offending man, the shortest, with a mohawk, rubs at his arm, which seems to indicate the tallest one on his left side smacked him into shutting his mouth.

You don’t need to be told who’s who to realize that it was ‘Ghost’ who smacked ‘Soap’, while ‘Gaz’ stands on Soap’s other side and shoots John an apologetic look. He told you everything about them, without ever revealing names or pictures, for you to know more about them than you should. John himself as his lips pressed together, his mouth nearly disappearing behind his mustache, as he glares at the lads (aka Soap) for making comments about you.

You quickly approach the three men. “You must be the lads my husband talks so much about!” You say with a chuckle. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet the men responsible for bringing my John home in one piece every time…” You tell them gratefully while shaking each of their hands with two of your own, your eyes shining a bit.

“Please, come in!” You gesture behind you into the home as you flick the sitting room lights on. “John, will you show them their rooms while I put the kettle on?” You ask your husband as you slink into the kitchen.

A few muffled footsteps, created by socked feet, are heard as they walk inside, with John directing the boys to the different bedrooms (and study), and you hear a gruff voice murmur something about taking the pull-out sofa. You assume it’s Ghost.

Your husband then comes to hug you around the waist as you wait for the water to boil, dropping kisses to your temple and cheek, doting on you while his big, calloused hands squeeze at every part of you, your thighs, especially, but your tummy as well, along with gentle words. “I missed you so much, lovie…” “Thank you for doing this…” “You know, I can never sleep right without you in my arms…” “Just missed you so much…”

Five minutes later, you hear their steps coming back as you’re finishing pouring the water into a few separate mugs. Your husband dislodges his arms from around you. He doesn’t need the others to see he’s so crazy about you.

“Your home is beautiful, Mrs. Price.” Gaz says as you set the tea mugs, the sugar, and the milk within their reach on the island counter. He takes one of the mugs and tops it off with some milk. The way the young boy calls you ‘Mrs. Price’ has nothing if not respect dripping from it.

It makes you tingle on the inside, even after so many years, the realization that you’re John’s wife, John’s choice, John’s priority. Your husband preens himself a bit when he catches the look in your eye. He loves that you’re his, of course, but loves it even more that you like being his.

“Thank you, Gaz. I’m glad you like it.” You remark with a smile as you sip your own tea. Herbal, different from theirs, so you can resume your sleep which John interrupted with his phone call.

“Aye, real cosy!” Soap quips from beside him as he slides up to a stool on the island. He doesn’t drink tea, so you didn’t prepare any, per John’s request.

“I hope the beds are to your liking… I kinda made them in a hurry.” You quip, which causes the boys, and your husband, to laugh, as they seat themselves across from you, in the bar stools. You barely even noticed Ghost taking the last cuppa and sliding up next to Johnny, his mask rolled up just enough to allow him to drink.

“We’re soldiers, ma’am, we’ll sleep anywhere,” Gaz told you, ever polite, with a sweet smile on his lips. John has told you all about Gaz, his protegé, of sorts, a respectful lad, the youngest, but one that has proved himself to be useful.

Your eyes flitter over to John for a moment, watching as he drinks his tea, two fingers laced through the handle of his navy blue mug, rather than around him, his behind leaning back on the counter beside you. While doing that, however, you miss the glances the lads exchange with each other, and then to you.

“As true as that might be…” You trail off after sipping your tea and look back at the soldiers again. “I still hope you have some good rest. And, I’m sorry about the pull-out sofa… it’s a bit old, came from John’s old apartment… Has gotta be a decade old now.” You quip as you look toward Ghost.

“It’s alright. I’ll sleep fine.” Ghost says. “Like Gaz said, we can sleep wherever.” He adds.

Soap nods along. “Anything’s better than sleeping on the ground with your rifle between your legs and your jacket folded up to serve as an eyemask.” He adds and laughs.

“Johnny.” Your husband calls out, chastising him. “No work talk.”

“Aw, c’mon, Captain, that hardly counts as work talk.” He retorts with a little boyish grin.

“Them’s the rules. No bloody talk about service.” John insists.

“John.” You scold him, and your husband stiffens next to you, his eyes flittering over to you, eyebrows scrunched and his eyes softened as he meets your eye… nothing short of a puppy.

It was stronger than John at this point, to respond to your tone of voice with nothing but a baring of his neck, not a baring of his teeth like he would with anyone else. The boys all noticed it, the way his shoulders sagged and his eyes looked at you with utter devotion.

“Let the boys talk about work. As long as it’s nothin’ too gory or confidential…” You trail off. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy ‘earing all the stories they have to tell about you at work... Right, lads?” You ask as you look at them again.

“Oh, we’ve got stories alright.” Soap says with a giggle and a wagging of his brows, which causes Gaz and Ghost to snicker under his breath.

“Well, then, regale me with them during Christmas dinner, ye?” You ask them, to which they nod along with smiles. You could swear even Ghost had one in the corner of his scarred lips.

After a bit more small talk, you kissed John goodnight, while he told you he’d stay downstairs and talk with the lads a little longer, so you waved at them while trekking your way upstairs, the boys once more thanking you for the hospitality.

The moment John’s trained ears honed into the fact the bedroom door has closed, he finishes his tea and glares at the lads.

“Don’t be bloody flirtin’ with my wife.” He tells Soap directly, though his comment extends to Gaz and Ghost as well, which is why he glances to both sides at the other two.

“Sir?” Gaz asks while blinking.

“You ‘eard me, Garrick.” He adds and points a finger at the young Sergeant.

“We’re not flirtin’, sir.” Soap tries to defend himself.

“Aw, that’s rich that there, MacTavish, yeah.” Your husband says bluntly.

“Weren’t flirting.” Ghost retorts as he looks at John. “I was more so interested in the way she has your balls in her little purse.” He adds.

Both Soap and Gaz turn to look at Ghost with eyes so wide you’d think he just tried to kill the Captain directly… and he might as well have, the way John choked on nothing and started coughing up a lung.

The other two are trying to muffle their chuckles and hide their smirks as Simon continues. “Don’t give me that look, boss. We all saw it. Pretty thing might as well be walking you around on a lead.”

“Nonsense.” John says defensively as he snatches the cups of tea from the island and turns to deposit them all in the kitchen sink. He starts washing them quickly, shoulders stiffened.

“Bunk down.” John demands. “We’ve got plenty to do tomorrow.” He adds. The light screeching of bar stools being pulled back and pushed back into place is heard, as the boys vacate the kitchen with curt ‘Goodnight, sir’ murmured before they headed upstairs as well.

“Balls in her bloody purse, my arse.” John grumbles under his voice as he finishes doing the dishes, drying his hands, and then setting them on the island across from him, head hung in shame.

He knows Simon’s right. Hell, he revels in the fact you’ve got metaphorical balls of steel to confront him, to steal control right from under him, to wear the pants in the relationship. Lord knows it took him years to meet a woman who could not only keep up with him but put him in his place…

So why does it embarrass him so to hear them snicker at that fact? Why does it annoy him to look weak for you in front of his men? Why does it anger him that he loves to be weak for you?

Those are the thoughts in his head as he turns off the sitting room and kitchen lights and marches upstairs... And as he approaches your bedside in the dark, pulling the covers out from atop of you, exposing your body to him.

Under that robe you came to welcome them in, you were only wearing one of his t-shirts and no pants whatsoever, which he had peeped by the way your bare legs had shown through the slit between the two sides of the fabric whenever you walked.

“John?” You ask him in surprise, his breath is a bit ragged, more so huffing like a bull through his nose, as he grabs you and pulls you up into his arms, only to drop you on the bed further in the middle of the bed.

The giggle that escaped you when he did so annoyed him even more. He’s angry, pissed that he had been humiliated in front of his men, that you had humiliated him by merely existing and going about your relationship with him the way you always did…

So why are you giggling? Is he really that weak for you that you’ve grown to not fear his anger?

He grabs the hem of his shirt and yanks it up and over your head, tossing it to the side before he attacks your neck with nothing but kisses and bites, his hands touching your naked body, rough skin dragging over every inch of the softness he has left on display.

“John!” You giggle some more as he keeps touching and kissing you, his body weighing down on yours, your legs parted to accommodate him. “We can’t… We have guests!” You try to negotiate as his fingers dig into the pudge of your thighs and slide around to grip a greedy handful of your ass.

You still haven’t spotted the anger in him… And, as such, your playful attempts at negotiating postponing sex only annoy him more. You’re still trying to call the shots…

His left hand wraps around your face, quieting you with a strong palm holding your lips, his fingers digging into your jaw on either side. “You’re mine.” That’s all he says as his fingers continue exploring your body.

“You think you can embarrass me like that in front of the blokes?” He asks you in a whisper as his teeth catch your earlobe and suck and bite at it. “Hm?” He beckons, his tone aggressive. “Make me look like a big girl’s blouse in front of my subordinates?” He continues.

A shiver runs down your spine as his free hand wraps around the waistband of your underwear and yanks it off, down your legs, tossing them to a random spot, barely giving you time to react before his fingers drag up your thigh.

“You think you’re oh-so-box-clever, innit?” He asks you as his fingers slowly drag across your slit, finding your clit effortlessly, years of practice aiding in his torturing of you. You find yourself moaning and sighing against his hand, hips stuttering a bit, your feet looking for a perch at the edge of the bed so you can rub yourself into his hand.

“Walking around in just my shirt and those knickers and stupid bloody robe, making my boys see how lucky I am to have you, make them jealous… Only to embarrass me, make me look weak…” He trails off and tuts loudly, his tongue clicking disdainfully.

The things he’s saying make no sense to you. You didn’t try to seduce his friends, and you sure as hell didn’t try to embarrass him! It’s just the way you always act around him, around the house. He’s never complained, in fact, he’s praised you plenty of times for being ‘perfect’ for him… So where did this change of his come from?

Frankly, you don’t know, but you don’t care… It has been weeks since you were last together, sure, but you know that’s not the main reason why you’re loving this. The unbridled rage in his voice, combined with the way his experienced fingers touch your body, is making you feel things John’s never made you feel before. Your mind is clear of nothing if not a pang of hunger for him, your hands gently pawing at his shoulders atop his charcoal grey t-shirt, soft whimpers muffled by the hard palm pressing you into silence, into submission.

“I’m afraid I’ve let you gone unchecked for too long, lovie...” He grunts in your ear as his fingers draw circles against your clit, the rough pads catching at the throbbing bud, making you whine and whimper, your whole body shuddering against him. “I’m going to fix that attitude of yours...” He clicks his tongue again, sounding all the more annoyed.

“Now you’re going to be good f’r me…” He says as he uncovers your mouth, his hand, wet with saliva, slipping from atop your mouth to grab your wrists and pin them above your head, flush to the mattress. “And make the lads know exactly who’s in charge in here. Clear their doubts...”

[MASTERLIST]

extra: 500 words-ish

The next morning, you wake up before John, as usually tends to happen when he comes back from a mission. The silence and lack of stress, the warmth of you in his arms, the cosy atmosphere of the house… It’s all the perfect sedative to keep him as good as dead for many, many hours. You slip out of his embrace and check the clock… it was just past 9 A.M. You pad quietly to the hall bathroom after fishing out a change of clothes from the wardrobe, and rinse off the sweat from the night before, as well as the dried slick and cum between your thighs. You’re still unstable on your feet, your thighs and the space between them deliciously sore, your body covered in marks of the night you spent in your husband’s arms… You feel like you’re floating as you drift downstairs and into the kitchen… “Fuckin’ hell!” You jump, startled. In your kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea is Ghost… You think. The height seems about right, though you didn’t expect a broad-shoulder, bare-chested blond in your kitchen. “Good morning.” You say softly as you shuffle inside, hearing him return that same greeting in a way-too-deep of a voice, standard of man who’s just woken up. “Go put a shirt on, this isn’t the beach.” You scold him, as you open the fridge, looking for the eggs. Your voice is as fierce as it usually tends to be with John. When he doesn’t reply, you look over at him, noticing his mask is missing. You assume John scolded him about it, how you’d likely be startled by seeing a masked man in the night. The look in Ghost’s eyes is unreadable, stern, unwavering, and eerily calm, as if he’s seeing through you. They flit over you, up and down, with a certain glint you can’t quite decipher. You straighten your back in the face of his look, portraying nothing if not confidence. Ghost leans against the counter, one hand holding his tea cup and sipping from it, the other resting on the counter to support his weight, before one of his eyebrows shoots up. “Nice night, huh?” He asks you and, immediately, you feel your entire confidence bleed out of you, your eyes widening like saucers. Of course he heard it… You’re sure all the lads heard you, especially considering John and you started right as they had gotten to their respective rooms to sleep, all of which were located in the same hallway as the master bedroom… It’d surprise you if they hadn’t… Hell, it’d surprise you if the neighbors across the way didn’t! The way John had you last night, crying out his name at the top of his lungs and making you apologise repeatedly for something you didn’t even do (on purpose) definitely leaked through the walls… Just like the shame you currently feel leaks through your pores. You turn away to fix your eyes on the fridge, too embarrassed to face him again after realizing he knows. Your brain rushes to find something to distract you, to hide what you feel… “Are you hungry?” You end up asking softly.

#ikea writes 💚#captain john price #john price x reader #price x you #husband john price #cod fic #cod modern warfare #captain price #task force 141 #masterlist #cod smut

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mellowwillowy · 5 months ago

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Thinking about writing a sweet, gentleman with a high sense of justice... Have a Yan! Baker!

Reader's gender is ambiguous as it's never really stated and only assumed.

Yan! Baker who is your neighbor and also your favorite baker of the town! The man has just recently moved next door and started his own little business which is opening a bakery!

Yan! Baker who gingerly offered you a cutely wrapped box of cookies as some sort of housewarming gift. One bite and you immediately fell in love with his creations! It's the best cookies you've ever had and the next day you saw him open his bakery, you were the first customer to line up for his cookies.

Yan! Baker who often gives you extra for every purchase you make, a little tad too much sometimes to be considered an extra. A juice for a piece of bread, a box of confections for a box of macaroons, and a box of luxurious-looking chocolate for a jar of cookies.

"My treat for someone so gorgeous like you." He eased you down with his smooth voice as you fidgeted at the extra he gave you. His smile was so genuine that you thought he might have taken a liking to you. But that couldn't be true right? He had a ring wrapped around his finger after all. He's most likely to be married already but you have never asked him that.

You thanked him and decided to pop off your curiosity today by asking him about his marital status.

"Me? Ahaha, yes I am not married yet, just engaged."

Perhaps your expression shifted too fast to the point he patted your shoulder, "... I really love them, I was once their prince in shining armor."

You cocked your head to the side while trying your best to make a chuckle at his word prince.

"Mmh, a literal prince might I say," Noel now wrapped both his hands on your shoulder, guiding you inside the bakery while spinning tales for you to hear to the point you didn't realize that the front rolling door was shut.

"A long time ago, this town was once a bustling village of an empire."

He sat you down at the kitchen table while preparing some tea for you to drink, somehow your mind fogged by his smooth voice.

"I had a twin brother and one of us was supposed to be the next Emperor but you see," Noel stirred the teabag into the pot, "I was not chosen by the die and my younger brother instead was raised to be the Crown Prince."

Is Noel a writer? You thought to yourself.

"But I didn't mind it at all, I received just a fair amount of love and attention from my family. I was slow in studying unlike my brother so I honed my skill in weaponry instead."

"So you were a knight?"

Noel nodded. You nodded slightly as well.

"I was a royal knight who was meant to guard both the country and my brother. But you know what?" Noel placed a tray of cookies, your favorite. "I grew up with not only my brother but also my beloved."

"Childhood friends?"

"More than that. They were one of my mother's lady-in-waiting and also my brother's closest friend and me."

A woman, you noted.

"Long story short, we grew up and got engaged, just like a fairytale." Noel picked the strawberry with his fork and ate it, since when did he bring it? And since when were the teas served already? His voice...

"But my brother was not pleased with it, he was envious, drowned in an ugly shade of envy." You could hear the irritation in his voice a tad too clear, a voice that you had never expected to hear from him.

"I was discharged from my duty momentarily due to a leg injury from a dispatch. It didn't bother me at all until I realized I had no hope of recovering completely, making my mother strip me of my duty permanently."

"But guess what, it turned out my brother was ecstatic about this news. He sent me away to be some preacher which automatically cut off my engagement. I didn't even have the chance to explain myself to them, only through letter could I apologize."

Was it his voice that lulled you deeper into the tale to the point you could see yourself in the setting or was it the cookies?

"Erickson swooped my love away and made them the Empress. They both reigned the empire into glory until I came in."

Chill ran down your spine, and the room that was originally normal suddenly felt hot.

"According to the prophecy, one of us three would be the downfall of the empire." Noel pointed between himself and you. Your waist felt so tight out of a sudden as though a corset was tightly wrapped around you. You wheezed from how the lack of oxygen and your eyes teared up from the smoke.

"Me, Erickson, or you. The Priest, the Emperor, or the Empress. The Knight, the Crown Prince," Noel brought your hand to his lip, "or the Jester."

An identical ring to his was slid into your finger, it fit like a charm, not too tight and not too loose.

The once small kitchen shifted into a spacious bedroom lit by a blazing scarlet that consumed the whole room. The heat was so much for you that you could somehow feel your skin melting.

Two heads were laid on top of your lap, and both of them shared the same scarlet hair, their face was not really clear but you could see them peacefully resting against you as their final resting place.

Just before you lost sight of everything and blacked out, Noel's kiss brought you back to reality. Kiss.

"I've been waiting for you for so long." The room shifted back to normal and you were on the bed with him above you. "Millennium, I waited for you for millennium and when I found you, I couldn't contain the feelings that were stored in the ring."

It turns out that your baker next door is not just some baker. He was your knight, your fiance, and your--

"But now, I can finally share this long locked suffocating feeling and fate with you." Noel muttered into your lip.

Diary Entry.

#Yandere x Reader #CatboX #Noel the Unbent #x GN Reader #I think this is more of just an OC posting content of a what if scenario

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ot8xbangchansgirlsblog · 2 months ago

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ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕡𝕒𝕔𝕜🧸

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ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕠𝕦𝕣: "who used my kitchen?"

Word count: 4036

Summary: In this chapter, Y/N wakes up to find Felix asleep beside her and makes her way to the kitchen to prepare a big breakfast for her new packmates. Chan praises her cooking and offers to help set up a garden for her, which she gratefully accepts. Y/N has a tense encounter with Hyunjin, who reacts coldly and dismissively. Upset, she retreats to Felix’s room where I.N and Lee Know comfort her. Lee Know speaks with Hyunjin, helping him confront his fears and pain about getting hurt again. The mood lightens when Changbin and Minho’s playful food fight breaks out in the kitchen, making Y/N smile and feel more at ease.

Warning: Angst/comfort, cursing, hate, insecurities,

The next morning, Y/N woke up feeling the weight of Felix’s arms draped around her waist, her legs tangled in the blankets. She groaned as she stretched, trying to ease the stiffness in her neck without disturbing Felix, who was sleeping soundly and peacefully. The pressure on her bladder made her discomfort even more urgent.

Reluctant to wake him, Y/N carefully extricated herself from his embrace and tiptoed to the bathroom. This was the first time in ages she’d slept in a bed, and she savored the comfort. She glanced at herself in the mirror and sighed—she looked disheveled. Knowing she couldn’t face the day like this, she quickly freshened up, borrowing a few items from Felix’s makeup bag: some chapstick, blush, mascara, and concealer.

Feeling somewhat presentable, Y/N made her way to the kitchen. The house was still quiet, the soft snores of her new packmates just audible thanks to her keen omega hearing. The spacious kitchen brought a smile to her face. She had always loved cooking and gardening, memories of her childhood cabin in the woods flashing through her mind. Her father had built it for her, a sanctuary where she could indulge her passions. Although she missed her old pack, she felt a growing sense of gratitude for her new one.

Y/N glanced around the kitchen, methodically pulling out pots and pans. She made a mental note of where each item was stored, ensuring she wouldn’t disrupt Leeknow’s precise organization. With a quiet determination, she set to work, contemplating her options for breakfast. “What to cook?” she murmured, rifling through the ingredients before deciding on pork kimchi jjigae and some pie. It seemed like a perfect choice for the boys.

Her hands moved with practiced ease as she prepared the dish, multitasking by brewing coffee and squeezing fresh juice. She hummed a lively tune, her hips swaying rhythmically. Cooking was her sanctuary, a place where she felt truly at home, and she embraced every aspect of it.

As she chopped vegetables and stirred the pot, Chan wandered into the kitchen, his eyes widening in surprise. “Wow, you’re up early,” he remarked, noting the contrast to his usual routine. Chan was typically the first one awake, starting his day with coffee and catching up on work while the rest of the pack got ready for practice. Today, however, he was greeted by the sight of Y/N already bustling about. “It smells amazing in here,” he added, his voice tinged with genuine appreciation.

Y/N looked up from her tasks, a warm smile spreading across her face at the sight of Chan. “Good morning, Chan!” she chirped, her voice bright with enthusiasm. She gave him a quick, respectful bow before turning back to her cooking. “I’ve made coffee and fresh juice if you’d like some. I wasn’t sure if you’d prefer a fruit bowl, and I couldn’t quite find any,” she explained, her brow furrowing slightly as she looked around the kitchen.

Chan chuckled, clearly entertained by her earnestness. “You’re quite the early bird. I usually get up first, make some coffee, and work on my laptop until the others are up. But it looks like I’m not the only one with a morning routine now.” He approached the counter, his gaze taking in the array of dishes and the inviting aroma filling the room. “And it smells absolutely delicious. What are you making, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed with pride. “I’m making pork kimchi jjigae. I thought it would be a nice treat for everyone. I love cooking, and I wanted to start the day on a good note.” She paused, then added with a playful smile, “I hope it turns out okay. I’m still figuring out the exact flavors they like.”

Chan’s eyes softened, and he leaned against the counter, looking genuinely impressed. “It’s really kind of you to do this. We’re all lucky to have someone like you around. I can tell you’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

Y/N’s smile widened at his compliment. “Thank you, Chan. It’s nice to hear that. I’ve missed having a kitchen to cook in. Back home, my dad built me a cabin where I could cook and garden to my heart’s content. I really enjoyed those times.”

Chan nodded, understanding the sentiment. “I can imagine. It must be comforting to have a space where you can do what you love. You know, if you’re interested, we could set up a little garden for you here. I’d be happy to help build one.”

Y/N blinked, taken aback by the offer. “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” she said softly, her cheeks flushing with a hint of shyness. “It’s really generous of you, but…”

Chan smiled warmly. “I insist. I know how important gardening is to you, and I think it would be a great way for you to feel even more at home here. It’ll be a nice project for us to work on together.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up, and she hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Well… if you’re sure, I’d really appreciate it. It would mean a lot to me.”

“Great!” Chan said, clearly pleased. “We’ll get started on it soon. For now, let’s focus on enjoying this delicious meal you’re preparing.” Y/N’s heart swelled with gratitude as Chan moved to assist.

“Ah, this is adorable! But honestly, I think you’ve done more than enough. I’ll handle setting the plates and grab some coffee, if that’s alright with you?” Chan offered, his tone warm and appreciative.

Y/N shook her head, a determined look in her eyes. “No, Chan. You’re the Alpha; Alphas don’t work in the kitchen. Only omegas and betas do,” she said firmly, a playful note in her voice.

Chan raised an eyebrow, looking at her with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. “No, Y/Nnie. We’re all equal here. Just because I’m the Alpha doesn’t mean I can’t help out. Please understand that,” he said, gently taking her hand and beginning to massage it.

Y/N started to whine in protest, but Chan gave her a playful, almost mischievous glare. She felt her cheeks warm, her defiance melting away under his gaze.

“Alright, Channie, but today let me do this to say thank you,” she said, her voice softening. She knew it was a little white lie to make Chan feel at ease, but she was caught off guard when Chan looked at her with furrowed eyebrows and then broke into a giggle.

“You know,” Chan said, still chuckling, “I can see right through you. You’re trying to make me feel better, but it’s really sweet of you. If you insist, I’ll let you take charge this time, but remember, we’re all here to support each other. It’s a team effort.”

Y/N’s eyes twinkled with a mix of relief and mischief. “Okay, okay, you win,” she said with a smile, her earlier shyness replaced by a genuine grin. “I’ll let you help next time. But for now, enjoy the breakfast!”

Chan’s laughter filled the kitchen, making the atmosphere even more cheerful. As he helped set the table.

As Y/N finished stirring the kimchi jjigae, Chan approached with a mischievous glint in his eye. Before she could react, he gently lifted her onto the counter and stood between her legs, the sudden closeness catching her off guard. Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt a rush of warmth flood her cheeks as slick grew between her legs. what a turn on she thought.

“You know I can hear your thoughts, right?” Chan’s playful remark made Y/N’s face turn a deep shade of red. She jolted slightly, her pulse quickening at his unexpected proximity. could he actually? they weren't mated yet! he must be just playing with her feelings.

“Oppa, you can’t just do that!” she exclaimed, her voice a mix of surprise and fluster.

“I can and I will,” Chan said with a teasing grin. “So you might as well be honest with me.”

Y/N huffed, trying to maintain her composure, but she couldn’t help but laugh. “It feels like you’re testing my boundaries,” she said, trying to sound stern but failing as a giggle escaped her.

“Then stop trying to hide things. The pack alpha always knows,” Chan chuckled, his laughter warm and reassuring. Y/N playfully nudged him, a soft smile on her lips.

“Will you two horny bastards keep it down? Some of us are trying to sleep,” Han’s voice cut through, his tone a mix of irritation and amusement as he passed by the kitchen toward the bathroom. Both Chan and Y/N burst into laughter at Han’s grumbling.

“Sorry!” Y/N called out, her laughter lingering as she returned to setting the table.

Chan grinned and said, “I’ll go get everyone up,” before heading out of the room.

Y/N took a moment to savor her coffee and the quiet before the day’s rush. Soon, the house was alive with the sound of the boys preparing for the day.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Changbin greeted enthusiastically as he entered the kitchen, giving Y/N a cheerful kiss on the top of her head. His scent quickly filled the kitchen making her omega purr. “This looks amazing, and I’m starving!” He quickly sat down, eagerly eyeing the breakfast spread.

“Please go ahead and eat. There’s plenty more, so dig in and tell me about your night,” Y/N said, gesturing to the breakfast spread as she encouraged Changbin to start eating. She was eager to hear how he had slept and what their plans looked like for the day ahead, knowing it was going to be a busy one.

Changbin took a bite of the pork and looked at her with a curious expression. “How are you feeling this morning?”

Y/N sighed contentedly. “I’m feeling great. I had the best sleep ever—the bed was so comfortable.”

Changbin chuckled, “That’s good to hear, jagiya. When we checked in, you, Han, and Felix were all out like lights.”

“It was a long day,” Y/N grumbled, “Sleep is crucial, and I don’t know how you alphas manage it all.”

“Hey! Those ‘alpha powers’ are what help us get through the day,” Changbin teased with a grin.

“Still, it feels so unfair!” Y/N pouted, rubbing her eyes and stifling a yawn. The conversation was interrupted by the sound of footsteps, and she turned to see Han and Felix walking into the kitchen, both already dressed and ready for the day.

“Good morning!” Han greeted enthusiastically, taking in the spread of food. “This looks amazing! Did you make all this?”

Y/N smiled, pleased with their reaction. “Yep, I thought I’d treat you all to a big breakfast. Help yourselves!”

Felix took a seat at the table, his eyes lighting up at the spread. “Thanks, Y/N. Everything looks fantastic.”

She handed both Han and Felix a glass of coffee and asked, “How was your night, guys?”

Felix grinned and took a sip of his coffee. “Mine was good, but someone”—he cast a playful glare at Y/N—“left me in a cold, empty bed all alone!”

Y/N pouted in mock indignation. “I had to make breakfast! Now sit and eat before it gets cold, and let me know what you think.”

Han quietly took a seat next to her, pulling her onto his lap and wrapping his arms around her waist. He laid his head on her back, his warm presence a comforting contrast to the chill of the morning. Y/N nestled into him, savoring his fresh, sweet scent, feeling like she could stay like this forever.

“You should go get dressed, love,” Chan said as he re-entered the kitchen, grabbing some food for himself. “Most of the boys are already ready.”

Y/N giggled at Han’s reluctant response. “Okay, oppa. I’ll be back soon.” She gently put some food on Han’s plate and fed him a bite. His eyes remained closed, and he nuzzled closer to Felix, who was now seated beside him. “Someone’s definitely not a morning person,” Y/N chuckled, handing Han his chopsticks.

“M’ tired,” Han yawned and pouted. “I wanna go back to sleep.”

“Let her get dressed, Ji,” Chan said with a laugh. “She’ll be back soon.”

Han huffed but reluctantly released his grip on Y/N’s hand.

Felix called out as Y/N started to head to the hallway, “I laid out some clothes for you, sweetie. And Channie-hyung said you could use his hoodie, so I left it on the desk.”

“Thanks, Felix!” Y/N said, heading towards the hallway with a warm smile.

frames decorating the walls. The vibrant images and snapshots offered a fleeting distraction, but it was in that moment of distraction that she collided with a solid, unyielding figure.

“Watch where you’re going, damn it!” The voice was a harsh growl that cut through the morning calm, and she felt her entire body stiffen at the sound. Hyunjin.

Her breath caught in her throat. “S-sorry,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m really sorry. It won’t happen again. Are you okay?” She scrambled to her feet, her face flushed with embarrassment and panic.

Hyunjin’s gaze was icy, his eyes narrowing in irritation. Without a hint of sympathy, he looked her up and down with palpable disdain. “Just know your place,” he muttered under his breath as he brushed past her. The forceful jolt of his shoulder against hers sent a shiver through her body, leaving her feeling bruised both physically and emotionally.

Her heart pounded violently in her chest as she watched him walk away, the harshness of his words echoing in her mind. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over. She turned and fled towards Felix’s room, her steps frantic and uneven. Fumbling with the lock, she finally secured the door behind her, the click of the latch echoing loudly in the quiet room.

“Y/N, are you okay?” The concerned voice of I.N came through the door, his tone laced with alarm. She could hear the urgency in his knock, the sound of his voice filled with concern.

“Y/N, what happened?” Lee Know’s voice joined in, his words carrying a similar worry. It was as if they were silently coordinating their concern, the murmur of their conversation drifting through the door in hushed tones.

“I’m okay,” she called out, her voice quivering as she tried to calm herself. “Just feeling a bit down.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks, trying to regain her composure before opening the door to her worried friends.

When she finally swung the door open, the immediate scent that hit the air was unmistakable—Hyunjin’s sharp, blueberry fragrance. The recognition was instant, and she saw their eyes widen with realization. The atmosphere in the hallway shifted, the concern deepening into a palpable tension.

“Oh my God, it was Hyunjin, wasn’t it?” I.N’s voice was thick with anger and frustration. His words were a mix of disbelief and indignation, his feelings clear even without seeing his face.

Lee Know’s gaze softened as he took in the sight of her. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice now more tender, though still tinged with concern.

As if on cue, the harsh scoff of Hyunjin’s voice rang out from the hallway. “I didn’t do anything,” he said dismissively, his tone dripping with casual indifference. The sound of his footsteps grew fainter as he retreated, carrying a plate of food as if it were the most mundane thing in the world.

“I’ll go talk to him. I.N, stay with her and make sure she’s alright,” Minho said firmly, his expression a mix of concern and determination. Gently, he pushed I.N into Felix’s room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. Minho’s footsteps echoed down the hallway as he made his way to Hyunjin’s room, the weight of the situation heavy on his shoulders.

He knocked softly on the door, but the response was a muffled groan from inside. Undeterred, Minho reached out through their bond, his voice calm and steady. Hyunjin, it’s me. Can we talk for a moment?

Go away, hyung. I don’t want to talk to any of you, Hyunjin’s voice came through the bond, laced with irritation and a hint of vulnerability. He was seated on the bed, the breakfast that Y/N had prepared spread out before him. Despite his irritation, the food was undeniably delicious, a painful reminder of home that he was reluctant to admit he enjoyed.

I know this is hard for you, my love, Lee Know responded through their bond, his tone gentle yet persistent. Can I come in and we talk? I just want to understand what’s going on and help you through this.

There was a moment of silence before the door creaked open slightly. Taking this as a sign, Lee Know pushed it open and stepped inside. The air was thick with the sharp, sour scent of Hyunjin’s frustration. The room smelled of a bitter, angry beta, a stark contrast to the comforting aroma of breakfast. Hyunjin was sprawled on the bed, surrounded by his mini studio equipment, which was scattered haphazardly across the bedding. His hair was pulled up in its usual bun for practice, and his face was etched with irritation.

“Talk,” Hyunjin said curtly, his eyes fixed on the plate of food, which he picked at with a sense of begrudging acceptance.

Lee Know sat down beside him, aware of the emotional walls Hyunjin was trying to maintain. He knew that beneath the surface of irritation was someone deeply hurt. “Hyunjin,” he began softly, “I understand you’re struggling right now. But you have to give Y/N a chance. This isn’t just about you; it’s about moving forward and letting go of past hurts.”

Hyunjin’s jaw tightened as he continued to eat, clearly torn between his desire to push everyone away and his inherent longing for connection. Lee Know reached out, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension in his muscles.

“Look,” Lee Know said, his voice firm yet caring, “I know you’re in pain. I know you’re feeling overwhelmed by all of this. But isolating yourself and pushing others away isn’t going to solve anything. You need to confront these feelings and be open to the possibility of healing.”

Hyunjin’s eyes met Lee Know’s for a fleeting moment, filled with a storm of emotions. There was a flicker of vulnerability in his gaze, quickly masked by a scowl. “I just don’t want to deal with this right now,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “She’s going to hurt us, hyung. Why can’t we just be eight? Why do we have to be nine?”

The words cut through the room like a knife. Hyunjin’s chest ached as he thought about the trauma they had all experienced when “he” left. The fear of going through that kind of pain again was almost unbearable. “What if I get attached? What if she leaves? You know how my beta reacted last time. I can’t go through that again... I refuse to,” he said, his voice breaking.

Tears began to well up in Hyunjin’s eyes, and he struggled to hold them back. The emotional dam he’d built up was finally breaking, and he let out a sob. Minho, who had been listening closely, gently pulled him into a hug. He knew that Hyunjin needed comfort more than anything right now.

“You need to give her a chance,” Minho said softly, rubbing Hyunjin’s back in a soothing manner. “I know it hurts, and it hurts us all. But we’re trying to move on, and you know deep down you feel a connection with her. Have you not seen your paintings for the past few months?”

Hyunjin sighed heavily, his tears flowing freely now. “I’m sorry for yesterday. I was a jerk, and you all didn’t deserve that. I ruined everything,” he admitted, his voice choked with guilt.

“It’s okay,” Lee Know reassured him, wiping away Hyunjin’s tears with gentle hands. “Just try to get to know her before shutting her out completely. I know she’s eager to understand you, and if you don’t like her, we can take it from there.”

Hyunjin looked up at Minho with red-rimmed eyes, his heart heavy with regret and vulnerability. “Thanks, hyung. This means a lot,” he said quietly, his voice filled with gratitude.

Minho smiled, his eyes softening with warmth. “Anytime, Hyunjin. Just remember, we’re all in this together. Give her a chance, and give yourself a chance to heal.”

As Minho pulled back, Hyunjin took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside him.

“I really needed that,” Hyunjin chuckled, his earlier tension melting away. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Lee Know replied warmly.

“I love you both!” Changbin’s voice rang out dramatically. The two betas, still squeezed in the hug, burst into laughter as Changbin pretended to weep theatrically before pulling them both into a tight embrace.

“Have you been there the whole time?” Minho asked, giving Changbin a mock glare.

Changbin, still grinning, shrugged sheepishly. “I couldn’t help it, okay! I smelled my baby beta was upset, and I had to come or I’d have gone mad.”

“Dude, you seriously need to stop walking into conversations,” Hyunjin said, lightly punching Changbin’s arm.

“Aish!” Changbin exclaimed with a playful wince. “Well, I’m just glad you’re feeling better. Sorry to interrupt this love fest, but hyung says we need to go downstairs. We’re leaving soon, and Minho and I.N haven’t had breakfast yet.”

“By the way!” Minho suddenly jumped up, darting into the corridor. “Who used my kitchen without asking?!” His voice echoed through the house.

In response, there was a chorus of giggles and muffled laughter. Y/N, who had been sitting in the other room, smacked her forehead in realization. She had completely forgotten to ask permission before using the kitchen. Guilt was written all over her face.

I.N snickered and playfully mimed zipping his lips shut before tossing the imaginary key away. Y/N giggled at his antics and quickly ran into the bathroom to get dressed, feeling much better than she had before.

“Han, I swear if it was you, you’re going into the air fryer with tissue in your mouth!” Minho’s voice carried through the house, followed by a cacophony of running footsteps, yelps, and bursts of laughter.

Y/N emerged from the bathroom, now dressed in a skirt and crop top that Felix had picked out for her, she quickly grabbed the hoodie chan had let her use. As she made her way to the kitchen with I.N’s hand in hers, she hoped that no one had snitched on her. But when she reached the kitchen, her face turned bright red with embarrassment.

The sight before her was enough to make her heart race. Minho and Changbin were in the middle of a playful food fight, their laughter echoing through the room. Pieces of breakfast were scattered around, and the chaotic scene was a far cry from the calm, organized kitchen she had envisioned. She stood frozen for a moment, her cheeks flushed, feeling as if she had walked straight into a comedy show.

I.N gave her a reassuring squeeze, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he noticed her embarrassment. “Welcome to the chaos,” he said with a grin. “Looks like you’re in for a wild morning.”

Y/N laughed nervously, her earlier anxiety melting away in the face of the lively, chaotic scene.

🍄🌻🥞🌿

Dont forget to reblog and follow! <3

Taglist: @ihrtlix @bowsnbang @katsukis1wife @thegingerthatwaited @thicccurls (open)

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thelov3lybookworm · 11 days ago

Text

Belonging with them

Day 3: Belonging.

Summary: He knew where he belonged now.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1150

Warnings: azzie continues being jelly of kaden lolll

A/n: i love hazel sm yall dont get it 🥺 this fic is based on a short i saw on yt and the dad is like the biggest hunk and gave such cassian vibes and he genuinely cried 🥺 i was gonna write this fic for cassian but then i decided to give this to azzie cus he deserves to cry hehe

(if you dont know hazel and kaden, theyre from my mini series overprotective bat. it was a 2 part series which can be found on my azriel masterlist. all the fic in this week will be revolving around these two cuties hehe)

@azrielappreciationweek

ANYWAY ENJOYYYY 🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

"I don’t really know where I fit in anymore."

"I’ve been alive almost five and a half centuries and I’m not sure of that, either."

The day he had said those words to Feyre seemed like a lifetime away, as if experienced in a dream centuries ago when he was younger and could not differentiate between reality and what his brain had conjured up. But he knew, it had merely been five years.

The five years he had cherished the most in his life.

He loved his family. He adored the way Rhys and Cassian bickered during their annual snowball fight, the way Amren found a way to slide in a snide remark at every dinner, the way Mor would always be ready to go partying. Above all, he adored how all his family including the Archeron sisters would be ready to help him and be there for him any day. Even in the middle of the night when he did not want to wake up his wife but knew he needed someone to help him with his crying daughter.

But… they did not complete him. He loved them to bits and would readily give his life for them… before he met his now wife and decided she was the one he would spend his life with, mating bond be damned. He had lost all hopes of finding his mate back then after waiting for five centuries.

Imagine his shock when on their wedding day, he felt another thread of gold tying him to his wife.

Now as he sat watching his daughter pet a purring Nuts lounging on the low table in front of him while explaining to him how tea was made, he smiled.

He had found his place of belonging. And it was with his wife and daughter.

Of course, there had to be that boy trying to take his daughter away from him. What was his name? Kade? Kaden? Azriel thought bitterly.

He knew he was being dramatic. His daughter was barely four years at this point, no four year old was going to steal her away.

Hazel turned to Azriel, making him focus all his attention on her. He offered her a smile when she handed him a small pink cup.

"What is this?" He asked, bringing the empty toy to his lips.

She shot him an incredulous look. "It’s the tea you ordered daddy."

"Oh, yeah sorry, I was thinking about something."

She shook her head. "Stop thinking and focus, daddy. Kaden always pays attention."

Azriel stilled.

I am being compared to a four year old boy now? What has life come to.

He sighed, mumbling out an apology even though all he wanted to do was tell her to stay away from that boy.

He did not want to be forced to go apologise again.

She began fumbling with the littered toys on the desk once more, completely ignoring Azriel in favour of mumbling instructions to Nuts, as if teaching him how to cook.

As he watched her move over to the huge armchair and place a cup on it, conversing with what Azriel could only hope was not spirits of the deceased, his curiosity peaked.

Maybe it was a bad idea, but he needed to make sure that she was not getting overly friendly with Kaden.

"Hazel, this tea is amazing." He waited till she giggled before continuing. "By the way, how’s school?"

It was daycare to help her get accustomed to going to school next year, but Hazel insisted she was a big girl and attended big girl school.

"It’s fine. Miss Black gave me a gold star yesterday because I helped her." Hazel was focused on the air she was stirring in her red pot as she talked, lips pursed slightly in concentration.

"Hmm. Who’s your best friend?"

Please don’t say Kaden. Not Kaden. Please.

She turned around to glare at him, and he wondered if by any chance he had said the words aloud. But he knew he hadn’t. Azriel wouldn’t let himself speak without permission from himself.

Her brows bunched up, lips pouting and eyes narrowed, she looked as offended as an old grandma being told her grandchild was full and did not want more food.

"Daddy, it’s you. You’re my best friend." She rolled her eyes.

Azriel watched. He simply watched her return back to stirring her pot.

Cassian had been the one to teach her the eye rolling. Azriel had been amused. Seeing a child barely reaching his knees roll her eyes at him like she had lived five lives was nothing short of funny.

But right now, it felt anything but.

It’s you daddy.

His eyes were prickling, that was his first conscious thought after long moments of silence in his head. His vision was getting blurry, throat clogging. Tell tale signs of a sob session oncoming. But he could not bring himself to care as he stared at this little faeling, who did not even realise what she had done.

You’re my best friend.

Azriel simply sat back against the couch, the cushions pressing against his bare back, and let the tears have their way on his skin.

I’m her best friend.

Even despite the emotions Hazel had brought forth, somewhere in the back of his mind Azriel was rejoicing that her best friend was not Kaden.

Guess I’m never beating the territorial illyrian accusations.

The shadows settled down on his shoulders, swirling softly against his skin as they too watched Hazel play and pet Nuts occasionally. They did not inform him of his wife’s arrival in the living room. They did not have to. He simply felt when her presence was near. The all consuming feeling of love growing stronger in his chest being another indicator.

"Hazel, it’s bath time baby. Let’s go."

Hazel huffed as if what Y/n had said was the most outrageous thing ever. "Mommy, I can’t leave yet. There are customers."

Azriel practically felt his wife’s eyes narrow. "Daddy can attend to your customers."

Hazel turned to look at Azriel pleadingly, her eyes wide and placating before they filled with shock. "Daddy why are you crying!"

Y/n drew closer. "Azzie?"

Azriel blinked, smiling up at his wife before picking up his daughter. "It’s nothing. Just some dust."

Hazel turned to scowl at Nuts. "I told you to clean up properly. Now see, because of you my daddy is crying."

Azriel huffed out a laugh, pressing his lips to her round cheek.

"Let’s go shower baby. I’ll even get your toys, yeah?"

Azriel’s gaze swung to Y/n at the end of his sentence. She gave him a knowing smile.

"Can Nuts come too? Please daddy, mommy!"

"Fine, but no splashing." Y/n pointed a finger at the father-daughter duo, eyebrows raised.

Hazel had begun to whine, but even she knew not to argue when mommy was serious.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Permanent Taglist: @berryzxx @sarawritestories @milswrites @throneofsmut

@daycourtofficial @sweetorangeblossom @secret-third-thing

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686

@cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1

@hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21

@mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @lady-of-tearshed @starsinyourseyes

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady

@lilah-asteria @girlswithimagination @garden-of-runar @girlswithimagination

@sunnyspycat @artists-ally @milswrites @kingdomofstarrynights

@berryzxx @buttermilktea11 @loving-and-dreaming @yucanbmylxdy

@mellowmusings

Azriel Taglist: @darthdumbasss @foreverrandomwritings @azrielsmate3 @celestialend

@stqrgirlies-blog @tele86 @bakananya @xyzmeh

@st4r-girl-official @caraaaaugh @nacho-nat @allllium

@fandomarchiveilyd @nickishadow139 @angel-graces-world-of-chaos

@okaytrashpanda

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somanyratsinthewalls · 9 months ago

Text

Self-Doubt (+18)

Pairing: Sanji x Fem!Reader

WC: 2600

MINORS DNI

Summary: Sanji isn't himself after being rescued. You help him work through his big feelings

CW: HURT AND COMFORT. trauma? sex, oral sex, MOMMY KINK, boob suckin, unprotected sex (don't) creampies (also don't) and pet names.

(Not proof read my edible kicked in)

— —

After successfully rescuing your cook from Big Mom’s clutches, there was something off about him. Sanji wasn’t the same flirty, playful man that had left you at Dressrosa. He seemed distracted all of the time, like he was lost inside of his own head as he absentmindedly stirred pots and pans on the stove. His constant fawning over you, Nami, and Robin had slowed dramatically and hell, he barely even argued with Zoro anymore… that was the biggest red flag. You cared for your crew mate and friend deeply, so you were determined to help him out of this slump.

Your attempts at getting him to open up to you had repeatedly failed. Each time you asked him if something was bothering him or even just asking how he was doing, he would fake a smile and tell you not to worry about him. You couldn’t give up, you had to try harder.

One afternoon, you catch Sanji in the kitchen preparing for dinner.

“Smells good in here!” You say in a sing song voice you enter the galley and see your favorite cook at the counter chopping carrots.

“Y/n, darling, thank you. Anything you need?” Sanji briefly looks up at you to flash you a tired smile.

“Hmmm maybe…” You stroll into the large pantry and root around.

“Y/n if there’s something you desire, I’d be happy to fetch it for you, no need to dig around in there…” Sanji puts his knife down on the cutting board with a huff.

Before Sanji could step towards the pantry, you emerge with two wine glasses and a bottle of white wine in your hands.

“What do you say you shuck a couple of those oysters in the ice box and we can enjoy them with this,” You wiggle the wine bottle in Sanji’s direction. “Like we used to back the day? I know they’re your favorite. Remember when we’d have to put a chair under the door handle so Luffy wouldn’t come in and slurp them all down?”

Sanji chuckles lowly and shakes his head.

“Yes how could I forget? We would get so drunk, too…” He cracks a genuine smily briefly before it fades from his lips. “I’m not hungry. But if you’d like some, I can prepare some for you.”

You sigh.

“I don’t want them by myself. Will you at least have a glass of wine with me?” You smile and step closer to him.

“I can do that.” Sanji reaches into his pocket and retrieved his wine key. He takes the bottle and glasses from you. He opens the bottle and pours two large glasses full.

“Ice in yours?” Sanji asks.

“You always remember how I like things.” You nod and smile.

Sanji plops a few ice cubes into your glass. You raise yours.

“Cheers to having you back.” You say as you tip your glass in his direction.

Sanji hesitates, but eventually grabs his glass and clinked it with yours wordlessly. You both sip your drinks.

“If you don’t mind, darling, I have to finish preparing for dinner. You can stay if you’d like, but I can’t say I’m much of a conversationalist as of late…” Sanji throws a dish towel over his shoulder and continues his work on the vegetables.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to talk. I just like being around you.”

Sanji nods and you watch him cook in silence for the next hour. As you observed him, you notice the heavy grey bags under his eyes, it was now clear that he wasn’t sleeping. Every now and then he would reach up and rub at his neck, obviously sore and aching. You hated seeing him in such a state, but he made it clear he wasn’t ready to talk and you weren’t going to force it.

Once Sanji finishes the meal, you head out and gather the rest of the crew for dinner.

The meal was wonderful as always and your rowdy crew filled the room with raucous laughter and conversation. Once everyone had their fill of food and drink, they thanked Sanji and filed out of the dining room to entertain their own evening activities. Most of your crew mates had gone to bed, but since the night was clear and warm you decided to lay out on the deck and look for shooting stars with Chopper.

“You see those 5 big stars over there?” You say as you point into the distance.

“Yeah, I think so!” Chopper wiggles his ears.

“That constellation is called Pablo the Reindeer Warrior! He was a famous big strong reindeer who saved a city from destruction and became a hero!”

“Wow! Really?!” Chopper looks over at you.

“No, haha. I had you there!” You throw your head back and laugh.

“Aww, y/n no fair.” The little reindeer pouts.

“Sorry little buddy, it was too easy.”

After a few minutes go by you see a shooting star.

“Chopper did you see that!?” You turn to the side and see the tiny doctor fast asleep beside you. You smile and scoop him up in your arms and rise to your feet. You carry Chopper to his bed in the medical bay and tuck him in tightly. You yawn. It was late, but you wanted to see if Sanji was still doing dishes before you headed off to sleep.

Sure enough, as you enter the galley, Sanji’s slender figure was slumped over the sink finishing up the dishes.

“Hey San-“ You stop once you hear a sniffle.

You go silent and don’t move any further. Was he… crying?

“*sniff* y/n, it’s late.” Sanji chokes back something like a wet sob. “You should head to bed. *sniff*” Sanji says without turning around, right hand covering his face over the sink.

“Sanji… you’re… not okay…” You say softly as you approach him slowly. “And that’s okay… you just have to let someone help you… we’re a family and you don’t have to do anything alone…” You reach his trembling form and reach up to gingerly touch his shoulder.

Sanji jerks against your touch. You recoil your hand.

“No! Don’t you get it! I fucked up! I am fucked up!” Sanji removes his hand from his face, revealing red, wet eyes. “I put everyone in danger and it was all my fault…” Heavy tears spill over and cascade down his porcelain cheeks.

You immediately pull him into you and put your hand on the back of his head to push him into the crook of your neck. You wrap your other around around his shoulder to keep him close to your body. He cries harder.

“I can’t sleep, y/n… I keep having nightmares… It’s just too much…” Sanji breathes out into your skin, now wet from his tears. You stroke his hair.

“Sanji I understand why you might feel like that, but I promise you no one resents you for anything. You were doing what you thought would save us. We’re all just so happy to have you back.” You coo soothingly into his ear.

“You shouldn’t have come for me, I’m not worth it. I’m a disgusting monster…” Sanji sobs

You rub circles into his back.

“Hey, out of all the disgusting monsters we’ve fought over these years, I’m pretty sure you’re very low on the list.” You joke.

Sanji cries harder.

“Oh come on, you know I’m kidding. You’re not disgusting and you’re not a monster. Imagine Luffy hearing you say this? You know he wouldn’t stand for it.” You state firmly.

Sanji’s sobbing slows.

“Hey… why don’t you stay with me tonight?” You ask.

Sanji pulls back and looks in your eyes.

“What?” He questions.

“If you stay with me, you won’t be alone if you have a nightmare. You’ll feel better if you get a decent night’s sleep.” You wipe tears and snot from his princely face. “Please?” You persist.

“I… Ok…” Sanji resigns.

“Good, when you finish cleaning up, come to my room.” You push his hair back and retreat to your bedroom deep inside the ship.

You wash up and slip on a large clean shirt and boy short panties before you slide into bed. You sigh and stretch against your comfortable sheets.

*knock knock*

“Come in!” You holler from your bed. Sanji meekly peeks his head into your room and you smile and wave him in. He had cleaned up his face and combed his hair, his normal three piece suit swapped for grey sweats and a white tee.

“Hi!” You sit up in bed and pat the spot next to you in bed.

“A-are you sure you don’t want me to sleep on the loveseat?” Sanji asked as he pointed at the couch in the corner of your bedroom.

“Sleeping on a sofa isn’t going to make your quality of sleep any better. Shut up and get in here, cook.” You roll your eyes. Sanji delicately slides underneath your fluffy purple comforter and takes his place beside you.

“Good. Now get some sleep.” You reach up and turn out your bedside lamp. You settle yourself in, facing inwards curled on your side, how you always slept. You listen to Sanji’s nervous, heavy breathing for a few moments before he spoke.

“Y/n?”

“Yes?” You open your eyes and look up at him.

“Could I… hold you?” He asks with a shaky breath.

“Of course. Come here.” You pull Sanji’s head down to lay between your breasts and he wraps him arm around your waist. You throw your leg over his hip and begin stroking his hair. Sanji couldn’t help but nuzzle his nose deeper into the crease of your breasts through your shirt. You smirk. After a few minutes of innocent cuddling, you feel Sanji’s hand on your side slip up your shirt and caress your naked back. The next thing you notice is the very slight grinding up his hips up into you. He was so cute like this, you couldn’t help but want to let him play… Maybe this is what he needed?

“Here baby…” you quickly pull back and remove your shirt, breasts falling into Sanji’s face in the process. You lay back down and pull his head back to your tits. “Go ahead and suck, sweetheart…” You guide his lips to your erect nipple.

“Y/n yes…mmmpphh…” Sanji moans around your pert bud, continued to rut his hips into you. You arch your back and sigh at the sensation of his plush lips on your breast.

Sanji sucks hungrily at your tit as he brings his hand to knead and squeeze at your other one.

“Mmmmph.. thank you.. so perfect…” Sanji mutters as he pulls off your breast to give the other one the same attention, a sloppy string of saliva now connecting them. Minutes went by with Sanji just desperately suckling your chest, little whimpers leaving his lips every now and then…

“Feels so good, sweet boy, so good for me…” You coo as you tug at his hair.

“Hmmppph… fuck… thank you mommy….” Sanji groans into your chest.

You eyes snap open.

*Oooooh, so that’s what he’s into… you know what? That makes sense…”

It might not be something you were used to, but you were happy with providing Sanji with whatever he needed in this very moment. You pull him gently by his hair out of your breasts and look into his glassy eyes.

“Wanna be a good boy and fuck me, Sanji?”

“Gods, more than anything.” Sanji bolts upright and sheds himself of his shirt and sweats, long cock standing at attention. You snap out of your daze staring at Sanji’s large member and shimmy off your panties. You spread your legs wide to entice him to enter you already. Sanji hovers over you.

“Fuck me, Sanji.” You buck your hips up at him.

“I can’t… not yet…”

“What?” You sit up on your elbows.

“Gotta taste you first… smells so nice…” Sanji drops to his stomach between your legs and spreads your glistening lips with his fingers. “Fucking pretty…” Sanji sighs before diving into your cunt and attaching his lips to your clit. You yelp out in surprise and pleasure. Sanji makes out with your clit as his saliva and your slick dris down the rest of your sex, soaking your skin and the bed under you. You writhe and moan under his tongue as your feel him start to play with both of your holes with his wet thumb and forefinger. His finger teases your soaked pussy as his thumb applied pressure in circles around your tight ass, all as he slurped on your clit. You found yourself hurtling towards an explosive ending very quickly.

“Shit, Sanji!” You cry out and grip his hair as you cum violently all over Sanji’s face. The moan he let out as you released on him might have been as loud as your own, it was filthy and pornographic.

Sanji takes one last lick of your sex before coming back up to hover over you.

“You’re really fucking good at that.” You laugh and wrap your arms around his neck.

Sanji chuckles and leans down to give you a passionate kiss. The flavor of your orgasm on his lips was making your head spin.

“Wanna fuck you now…” Sanji whispers as he pulls back from you.

“You can fuck me baby, I wanna feel you…”

Sanji straddles one of your legs and pulls the other to wrap around his hip, turning you slightly on your side. He wastes no time in pushing his swollen cock into your seeping hole. Sanji stutters and gasps as he bottoms out inside of you, overwhelmed at the feeling of your warm walls sucking him in so tightly.

“Y/n… fuck…” Sanji pants and pulls out of you just slightly, admiring your slick coating his shaft already.

“So good baby, you stretch me out so good…” You purr as you run your hand up and down his chest.

“Shit…” Sanji pushes back in, all the way to his pelvis and grinds into you, making sure to press into your clit. He continues grinding his hips in circles against yours.

“Yes! Just like that, so fucking good baby!” You cry out and throw your head back, this particular position had Sanji able to stimulate all of your senses.

“A-ah- Fuck! You’re squeezing me so tight! A-are you gonna cum?” Sanji stutters as he tries to keep his pace while fucking into you.

“Yes honey, I’m gonna cum. Keep going, make mommy cum, baby- Ah!” You cry out and your dam bursts all over Sanji’s legs and pelvis.

“Mommy! Fuck, ah! Can’t hold it, gotta.. gotta fill you! Please!” Sanji shouts as his hips move more erratically.

In your post orgasm daze you whisper out a short “cum in me, please” and Sanji does just so with a loud groan, surely heard by everyone on the ship. You whimper as you feel him shooting rope after rope of thick white into your womb. Once his body stopped shaking on top of you, Sanji pushed himself off and flopped down next to you in bed.

“Y/n…” Sanji turns to you and grabs your cheek. “Thank you…”

You shake your head.

“Don’t thank me. I’d be doing this with your no matter what had happened. You mean so much to me…” You look up into Sanji’s blue eyes.

“I… I don’t deserve you…” Sanji looks away.

“Hey.” You tilt his chin up to you. “No more of that. I thought I made that very clear.” You giggle and place a quick kiss on his lips. Sanji smiles.

“I’ll never leave you again. I promise.”

#one piece #one piece anime #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanart #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece fandom #one piece smut #sanji #black leg sanji #sanji x reader #one piece sanji #vinsmoke sanji

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nina-ya · 3 months ago

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Idk if you write for him, but would you be interested in writing a headcanon about Killer falling in love with an AFAB!reader or even the prompt for Three times he tried to confess and the one time he did? If you don’t want to then I understand ! I really love the way you write the interactions between a reader and a character, it makes my heart soar 💞💞 so I wanted to at least ask

Three Times Killer Tried to Confess and The One Time That He Did

A/N: Hi!!! I am so sorry this took a while to get to but here it is!! I wrote a lot more than I thought I would and I actually had a lot of fun doing this!!! I do hope you enjoy it my love Pairing: Killer x Reader CW: Wano spoilers in the second half WC: 2.5k

Matching aprons adorned you and Killer as you stood side by side in the ship’s kitchen. There was a playful and light energy in the air. Killer by your side certainly helped brighten the usually mundane task of preparing dinner for the crew.

“You know, I didn’t take you for a cook,” you teased, nudging him with your elbow as you tossed a handful of various spices into the pot in front of you. “You seem more of the ‘slice and dice’ type.”

Killer chuckled, the sound low and genuine. “I have hidden talents,” he replied, glancing over at you. “I can handle more than just weapons, you know.”

You grinned, the banter flowing easily as you stirred the contents of the pot in front of you. As you moved to grab a spoon to taste your creation, your hand brushed up against his, and you both paused. The small kitchen suddenly seemed to shrink further as you exchanged glances that lingered a moment too long to be entirely innocent.

It was moments like this, quiet and shared, that made it seem easy to just rip the bandage off and tell you the truth– to let you know that his feelings for you went far beyond camaraderie.

With that in mind, he summoned the courage to confess and the words started to tumble out of him. “Hey, I–”

The kitchen door swung open with a bang, and Kid strode in, his boisterous presence loud and commanding as ever. “Is the food ready yet?” He asked, voice loud and slicing right through the moment.

You jumped back, startled, and the spoon that was in your hand fell onto the floor, clattering against the tiles. “Oh hey,” you greeted, trying to sound casual as if you were not just gawking at the first mate.

Killer sighed, frustration simmering beneath the surface as he watched his captain barrel right in with his usual lack of grace. Kid surveyed the scene and waltzed over to the stove, looking over at the various pots and pans that simmered and crackled with the awaiting meals.

“Want to taste?” you quipped, picking up the mood as you scrambled to ease your embarrassment.

Killer remained silent, the moment he was hoping for, now a memory. He didn’t have to force a smile, one of the perks of the mask that he wore.

The conversation turned dull as Killer once again found himself retreating into the comfortable role of a friend and a crewmate. Despite the interruption, he knew there would be more moments, other times when the words might finally find their way to you. But for now, he continued his cooking alongside you, content with the knowledge that he was even able to gather the courage to confess.

- - - There are these moments in life that seem completely and utterly perfect and today was one of them. Floating out on the seas, the sun shone high amongst a clear sky, it was not too cool, not too hot, the waters were not choppy, no enemies for miles upon miles. Today was perfect. And of course, you spent that perfect day outside, lounging around, playing games on the deck, doing whatever really to ensure the day wasn’t wasted.

Killer joined the festivities, his mask reflecting the sunlight in a way that made it seem like he was quite literally glowing. Each subtle turn of his head cast the sun's rays in your eyes, prompting playful chastising from your end.

You two found a moment alone, leaning against the ship’s railing, watching as the sunlight reflected amongst the waves. “The ocean looks different every day, doesn’t it?” you mused, breaking the comfortable silence. “I could never get tired of it.”

He nodded, preferring to watch you rather than the horizon. “It’s certainly mesmerizing,” he agreed, though those words were more meant for you rather than the sea.

The moment seemed perfect, sun shining down on the two of you, the world quiet and still, and you, right beside him, close enough to touch. Killer took a deep breath to steady himself, and he started, his words carefully chosen, “Hey, can I tell you something?”

You turned to face him, a curious smile lighting up your features. “What is it, Killer?” you asked, eyes bright with interest as you leaned slightly closer to him.

He hesitated, the confession perched right on the tip of his tongue. But before he could continue, you interrupted his thoughts with a teasing remark. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you were about to confess your undying love for me.”

Fuck.

His mind blanked, the carefully crafted confession instantaneously vanishing into thin air. Your words hit like a bucket of cold water, leaving him momentarily stunned. The laughter that followed your statement was teasing and light, but it did nothing to subdue the rising conflict in emotions within him. Killer opened his mouth to respond, but the words got tangled in his throat.

You chuckled, clearly amused by his reaction. “Relax, relax, just teasing,” you reassured, giving him a gentle nudge. “What were you going to ask?”

The moment had slipped through his fingers and the confession died beneath the wave of playful banter, not that he could ever get mad at you for that, anyway. He managed a smile, the words of his heart retreating to their depths once more as he replied, “Not quite.” He shook his head, pushing out a soft laugh of his own as he hid the frustration with humor. “Guess you’ll have to keep guessing.”

You grinned, clearly enjoying the exchange. “Alright, I’ll get it out of you eventually,” you promised.

While the moment had slipped away, you remained. And for now, that was enough. - - - Something had undeniably shifted after that encounter with Kaidou, after Killer ate that damn smile fruit. The fruit had stolen his ability to express any emotion besides happiness, twisting his laughter into a constant, cruel reminder of what he had lost. No matter how much he tried to control it, the laughter would mock him at the most inopportune moments.

Tonight was no different. The two of you sat on the deck of the Victoria Punk with the moon overhead, the soft source of light casting just enough of a glow for you two to make out each other's features. You were talking, your voice bubbling with melodious laughter as you recounted a funny story from earlier in the day.

He watched you, the smile beneath his mask nothing short of obsessive adoration as you rambled on, each syllable that you graced him with was a spark, igniting a fire within him that he longed to nurture with the truth he had hidden away. It was a struggle before to get his words of confession out, always right on the precipice before something shattered it. Yet, in his current state, he couldn’t even bear to think of you for too long before it started to hurt. It pains him, knowing that his advances have been set back even further because of the failure of a Devil Fruit planting seeds of insecurities that festered and consumed him unlike anything else in this world.

As he listened to you, that warmth spread through his chest, combining with the constant dull ache of words unspoken. He was a prisoner of himself. He felt a desperate urge to break free, to let his true feelings rise and breach the waves.

As your laughter persisted, joy enveloped him and for a moment, he was swept away by the fantasy of what could be. The moonlight had painted your features in soft hues, illuminating the smile that never failed to make his heart race. And the longer he stared at you, the more those fantasies started to feel like a reality he could just reach out and grab.

Before he knew it, he was speaking, the inkling of a confession rolling off his tongue as he started, “I… there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” But just as the words hovered on the brink of escape, the laughter erupted, uncontrollable and wild. It spilled from his lips, tormenting him by grabbing the fragile confession and drowning it. His own voice betraying him was nothing but a cruel jest.

Your own laughter faded as you looked at him, your own features flooding with confusion and concern. “Are you okay,” you asked, bringing your voice down as you tried to navigate the situation.

He wanted to scream, to tell you that he was trapped in this unrelenting cycle of torture that he couldn’t break. But all he could do was nod, the laughter still bubbling up, a mocking refrain that refused to be silenced.

Frustration wound tight within him and he turned away, unable to meet your gaze as shame burned through him. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” he managed to choke out. You wanted so desperately to know what was going through the blond’s mind, to get a glimpse of what he was really feeling at the moment, but you were not granted more than a second of wondering before he excused himself and walked off, leaving you in a state of confusion. - - - Killer let out a deep breath, unfolding the letter in his hands and reading it for the thousandth time. He had convinced himself that this was the only way to confess to you- the paper in front of him contained words that he could only dream of saying out loud to you.

As he read over the letter once more, you burst into the room unannounced, interrupting his thoughts. His eyes shot up to you through his mask, nervousness freezing him in his place.

You noticed the way that he froze up and your original purpose for coming into the room screeched to a stop as you asked, “Are you okay?”

Killer sighed, accompanied by the laughter you had gotten used to, the laughter you often looked forward to. “Yeah, I’m okay. Did you need anything?” voice wavered as his eyes glanced down at the letter in his hands with yours following.

Your curiosity piqued, your attention zeroed in on the piece of paper in his hands. “What’s that you got there?” you asked, stepping forward your interest only increasing as you watched him fumble to fold the letter as if he was trying to hide its contents from you.

Before he had a chance to hide anything, you reached out, your hand gently covering his to stop his movements. “Whatever it is, you know that you can tell me.”

The letter let out an audible crinkle as he gripped the paper tighter, his body hesitating at the thought of giving the letter to you. He had fantasized about this moment for nights on end, dreaming about the day he could lay his heart out bare for you. Each scenario played out perfectly in his head, yet none of the dozens of scenarios unfolded like this. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself from handing the letter to you, locking in this version of events. Despite the strained laughter that spilled from his lips, every cell in his body screamed nervousness, from the slight tremor in the hand that passed the paper to you, to the vein in his jaw that was evidence of how hard he was clenching his jaw. The contents of the paper were a mystery and you found yourself almost too eager to unveil them.

You unfolded the paper, your eyes scanning the words etched onto it. Killer silently thanked the mask that covered his face, concealing the scarlet that flushed his features. Each and every word of his bare feelings sent your heart racing. Declarations of love, confessions he never dared utter aloud, and the fear that his uncontrollable laughter would ruin any chance at a sincere confession- all of it was there quite literally in the palm of your now shaky hands.

His eyes darted around before landing on the space between your feet, the silence certainly not helping his nerves. He stood there, seemingly frozen, as he waited for your reaction, breath caught in his throat.

You looked up from the letter, your gaze filled with a mixture of about a dozen emotions- surprise, affection, relief, and something deeper. Killer’s own eyes locked with yours and you could hear the struggle to stifle the laughter that bubbled up in his throat. You took a step closer, folding the letter in one hand as the other reached out to him.

“Killer,” you whispered, your voice filled with that same mix of emotions. You didn’t know quite what to say at the moment, opting for a different approach.

You reached up, delicate fingers hesitantly gripping the bottom of the metallic mask. You gently lift the mask, your eyes locked on each inch of skin revealed with the passing moments. You stopped when the mask revealed the tip of his nose. Your hand moved to cup his face and your thumb ran over the skin, dedicating the feeling to memory. You leaned in and placed a kiss on his cheek, watching as he tensed up beneath you, breath catching in his throat. If you could see his eyes, they would be as big as saucers at the action.

The kiss lingered for a moment, the touch conveying what your own words couldn’t. You pulled back, taking a moment to pull the mask off completely and admire his features. His face was always softer than you imagined, the contours of his face complimenting him perfectly. The eyes, once hidden, now bore into your soul, pulling you in with each passing second. And those lips, the parted flesh painted a purple that you can’t help but want to smear at the moment. His breath was still uneven and he swallowed the laughter that usually would have presented itself by now, a thick silence filling the air.

“Killer,” you whispered once again, your voice steady as you attempted to find the right words. “Thank you… I didn’t know you felt the same way… I mean, I had this gut feeling, but seeing it here…” you held up the letter, the paper trembling slightly. “It means everything to me.”

You saw his muscles ease as relief washed over him. You couldn’t help but break out into a smile at the newfound warmth spreading through you two. You squeezed his hand gently, letting out a soft chuckle as the tension melted between the two of you.

Without a word, you leaned in once again and met his lips in a kiss- a kiss of longing, making up for last time, complete and utter affection. It was a gentle kiss, expressing all the words you didn’t say. For a moment, everything couldn’t have been more perfect and the only thing in the world was the warmth of his lips against yours.

Just as suddenly as the kiss began, you pulled back, your breath mixing with his, the noise being the only thing to fill the air. It seems like only a split second that all of your troubles seemed to fade into insignificance as you both took in this moment- the moment that would change things for as long as you two live.

#nina responds to~✦#arkive #nina writes~✦#killer x reader #massacre soldier killer x reader #killer one piece #x reader

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