#gold towel ring

[keshascult]

Industrial Powder Room - Powder Room Idea for a small, industrial-style powder room with a brown floor and brown tile, furniture-like cabinets, a two-piece toilet, brown walls, an undermount sink, and quartzite countertops.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

gold ring

words: 1.3k

warnings: brief suspicion of cheating, established relationship, soft!rafe, proposal, fluffy

“rafe!” you groan out, tired of hearing his phone constantly dinging for the past ten minutes. 

when rafe doesn't answer, you slap your laptop closed, frown on your face as you head up the stairs, muttering to yourself about him interrupting your work that he KNOWS is important.

“rafe!” you shout, entering his bedroom. you can finally hear the spray of the shower, explaining why he was letting his phone go off.

you grab it from his bedside table, yanking the charger free as you go to silence it, but upon trying to stop the dinging, you skim over the notifications.

you don't believe it at first. it must be some kind of mistake, you're sure.

you click on the name of rafes ex girlfriend, opening up the text message thread.

rafe: when can we meet?

ex: whenever works for you 🥺

ex: i miss you a lot btw

ex: this friday at 6pm? we can meet at the country club like we always used to. maybe get dinner? can't wait to see you xxx

you frown at the messages, quickly locking the phone and setting it down when you hear the shower turn off.

rafe steps out with just a towel wrapped around his waist.

“hey princess.” he smiles. “how's the essay going?”

“fine.” your tone is cold, surprising rafe. “your phone was ringing so i silenced it.”

you walk out of the room without another word, needing to return to your homework, but when you sit back down at what has become your desk, you can't concentrate on the words on the screen, your anger bubbling over.

you want to confront rafe, but you need time to breathe otherwise the entire conversation will be unintelligible as you simply sob.

you head upstairs, grabbing your backpack and slinging it over your shoulder as rafe emerges from the closet, fully dressed.

“where you going babe? got study group?” he questions, glancing at the clock on the wall, realizing there's no way study group would be meeting this late.

“going home.” you mumble, making sure everything you usually leave at rafes is stuffed in your bag.

“you are home?” rafe questions, his expression turning sad when he sees you're not joking.

“no, im not rafe.” you sigh. “i want to sleep in my own bed tonight.”

truth is, you've practically moved into tanneyhill since you started dating rafe, but technically you still live at your parents house, only a few doors down from rafes.

“is everything alright?” rafe asks, trying to reach out for you. “what did i do wrong?”

you can't help it anymore, his obvious disrespect for your relationship, something you put years of work into only for him to go back to his ex girlfriend.

“how about you ask your ex?” you question, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“my ex? what are you talking about?” rafe asks, again trying to hold you by your shoulders, but you take a step back before his palms can land on you.

rafe: ive asked you a million times to give that ring back. you never should have taken it in the first place. it was my grandmother's and now it belongs to y/n, not you.

“i saw your texts, rafe. when can we meet? are you fucking kidding me!?” you shout the last sentence.

“baby, wait.” he says softly, grabbing his phone. he opens up the messages, scrolling up so you can see the full context.

ex: i don't know where it is 

rafe: bullshit. give it back or ill call the cops

ex: fine. 

rafe: when can we meet?

“see, baby?” rafe places a soft hand on your shoulder. “i was just trying to get my shit back. i have no interest in my ex at all. i love you.”

“oh, rafe!” you coo out, throwing your arms around his shoulders. “im so sorry i doubted you.”

“it's okay, id also be pissed if you were texting your ex. i didn't tell you just because i wanted to keep it a surprise.”

“keep what a surprise?” you furrow your brows together.

“what do you?- ohhh.” rafe finally catches on, letting out a chuckle. “i see what you're doing.”

you giggle, rising to your tiptoes to press a kiss to rafes soft lips. 

“now let's get back to work on that essay, yeah?” rafe says. “i can help you.”

“and what do you know about microbiology that could possibly help me?” you snicker.

rafe rolls his eyes dramatically. “fine, but i can at least be there for moral support.”

--

you've been expecting it for months now, wondering when rafe will pop the question. you know he got the ring back, and while he's taken you on romantic dates and moonlit walks on the beach, you're not sure when he will actually drop to one knee.

“what are you thinking for your nails this week?” your girlfriend asks.

originally, you were doing all white and plain, but recently for summer you've been branching out to bright colors again.

“why, is there a certain color i should get?” you raise your eyebrow at her. 

“well i was gonna get a sparkly white, maybe we could match.” she shrugs. it's no discredit to your friend, but her acting isn't good enough to fool you, and you're sure that rafe asked her to make sure you get something appropriate and properly bridal.

you of course get simple nails that you hope will compliment a silver ring on your finger.

you look at the calendar hanging on the wall, reading through your events for the upcoming week, trying to figure out when rafe may ask the question.

you ultimately give up on trying to figure it out as you head further into the house, calling out for rafe. 

“baby? where are you?” you shout, surprised when you don't get a response. you head up to your bedroom, figuring he must be in the shower, but the bathroom door is wide open when you enter.

you almost miss it, so set on finding rafe, but the dress laying on the edge of the bed ends up catching your attention.

put this on and meet me outside.

you recognize rafes handwriting instantly. you set the paper to the side and look at the dress. its a soft light pink material, nearly white.

you are quick to undress and put on the flowy dress, admiring yourself in the mirror before touching up your hair and makeup next. rafe knows how you like to prepare for big events in your life.

your steps are slow, or at least you attempt to keep them slow, as you want to cherish this moment. your eyes light up with the glow of the backyard, string lights hanging from every tree, and on the edge of the sand, is rafe.

“oh.” you cover your mouth, feeling tears well up in your eyes. this has to be the moment. you run to him, arms wrapping around his shoulders as he spins you.

“baby, i haven’t even asked yet.” rafe chuckles, setting you down.

“and i’m already saying yes.” you giggle, although it’s no secret to rafe what your answer would be.

“still-” rafe places his hands on your hips, stilling you before he drops down onto one knee, pulling a box out of his pocket. he flips open the lid to reveal the most stunning ring you’ve ever seen, it’s exactly what you envisioned and somehow so much more.

“you’ve made me happier than i ever thought possible. you fixed all my broken pieces and made me whole again. there’s no one else i’d rather spend forever with.”

rafe looks up at you, tears brimming in his eyes, overwhelmed with the emotion of the moment. “will you marry me?”

“yes!” you squeal, falling to your knees alongside rafe and pressing your lips against his. “yes, yes. a million times yes.”

sfw tags: @winterrrnight @cameronswiftie @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen @drewsephrry @wearemadeofstardust0

[daily-borgia]

Powder Room Bathroom White walls, a vessel sink, wood countertops, and brown countertops are all featured in this transitional powder room idea.

[misstel]

Seattle Bathroom

With furniture-like cabinets, medium-tone wood cabinets, gray walls, an undermount sink, and gray countertops, this farmhouse powder room has a dark wood floor and a brown floor.

[tjabez]

Bathroom Powder Room Miami Elegant powder room photo with a pedestal sink and red walls

[veshkashaw]

Powder Room Bathroom

White walls, a vessel sink, wood countertops, and brown countertops are all featured in this transitional powder room idea.

[prettylittlebigliars]

Bathroom Powder Room in Sacramento Inspiration for a transitional powder room remodel with gray walls, an undermount sink and black countertops

[peachsukii]

✮ content. pro-hero!bakugo x pro-hero fem!reader. late 20 somethings + married w/ a toddler. family fluff while he’s away on a mission. slightly suggestive (aka Katsuki’s down bad for his wife). ;)

“Momma!” Your daughter shouts from the living room, the little pitter patters of her feet echoing down the hall as she sprints toward you with glee. “Phone’s ringing, pick it up, please!”

Her small hands shove the phone against your thigh, bouncing up and down in place with excitement. You tuck the folded towel in your arms into the closet and bend down to her level. When you take the phone from her, your husband’s name —💥Katsuki 👑💕— is displayed across the screen, accompanied by a photo of the three of you on your last beach trip. Clicking the “Accept” button, the visual of Katsuki in his hero costume appears, his attention focused on removing his gloves while waiting for you to answer.

“Hey handsome,” you greet, heart swelling when you catch him smirk at the compliment. “Someone’s been waiting for you to call.”

“An’ where’s my little girl at?”

Your daughter hops into view, jumping up and down with her hands waving frantically.

“Hi Daddy!” She giggles, dancing back and forth on her tip toes. “Did ya beat up the bad guys today?”

Katsuki laughs heartily, finally sitting on the bed in his hotel room. “Sure did. I’m keepin’ you and Momma safe. How’s school goin’?”

“S’good! I got a gold star today for my drawing.”

“Yeah? Proud of you, sweetheart. Can’t wait for ya to show me when I come home.”

The time on your phone reads 7:30PM, and like clockwork, your daughter begins to stretch, yawning the same way Katsuki does when he’s exhausted after a long shift.

“Why don’t you get ready for bed, sweetie?” You suggest while rubbing her back. “I know you’re tired.”

“Okaaay,” she pouts, trying to fight off her sudden sleepiness. “G’night Daddy. I miss you!”

“Only two more days. Love an’ miss you, Princess. Sweet dreams.”

With a wave and a smile, she trots off toward her bedroom to change into her PJs, leaving you with a few minutes to talk with Katsuki before tucking her into bed. You walk back into your joint bedroom, leaving the door cracked as you lay on the bed. Katsuki does the same, shifting the camera to follow his movements as he stretches out across the sheets.

“Goddamn, I miss you somethin’ fierce,” he admits, sighing into his forearm as it crosses his face to hide the soft dusting of pink on his cheeks. “You put a spell on me or some shit?”

“Not this time,” you chuckle, feet swaying in the air behind you like a giddy schoolgirl. “I miss you, too. How was your day?”

“S’alright, nothin’ crazy. Can’t wait’ta be back home, sleepin’ alone sucks.”

“Yeah, the bed is cold without you.”

There’s a short lull in the conversation before it shifts into something more sensually charged. Katsuki tends to get clingier the longer he’s stationed away from home — all the telltale signs of it are reflecting in his eyes through the camera, sparkling under the dim moonlight from his hotel room window.

“Good thing I know how to keep ya warm,” he purrs with a wink, the mischievous grin stretched over his lips telling you how he’s truly feeling. “S’how you got knocked up the first time.”

There it is, that familiar warmth flooding into your belly and heat spreading from your ears to your toes.

“Kaaats!” you whine, shyly tucking your head into your chest. “Shut up.”

“Don’t get shy on me now, Peaches,” he teases, laughing quietly at your bashfulness. “S’cute how easy ya are to rile up.”

You wave him off and roll your eyes lovingly. “I should go put her to bed. Are you gonna be up in an hour?”

His brow furrows curiously. “Prob’ly. Why?”

“Gives me time to get her settled, put away the laundry and finish the dishes. Up for a little late night date?”

Oh, Katsuki knows exactly what that means. Why was the thought of watching you doing chores around the house and taking care of your daughter making him suddenly break out in a sweat?

“Earth to Katsuki?” You call again and recollect his attention. “If you’re too tired—”

“Never too tired for you, baby. Go do what ya gotta do, I’ll be waitin’.”

“Okay, I love you!” You sweetly sing as you roll off the bed. “Get comfy, bye babe.”

“Love you too, Peach. See ya.”

The “End Call” screen flashes briefly in front of Katsuki’s eyes, the darkness of the hotel room returning once the screen dims into nothingness. He mumbles a breathless ‘fuck’ into the air before jumping off the bed to stomp toward the bathroom.

Only you can leave him hanging by a thread on simple promises, even when he’s miles away. And damn, did he love it.

[ari-sa]

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻

roommate!geto x reader. part two

cw: mdni. suggestive, masturbation, a little bit of choking?, oral (m!receiving)

a/n: got a little carried away here so it’s kind of long, also this is only my second time writing so I’m sorry if it’s bad!

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻

roommate!geto who lays in your lap as you run your nails thru his long hair, pretending to be asleep so you won't get up~

roommate!geto who catches you staring at him after he’s walked out the shower with nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips, beads of water clinging to his body. “like what you see princess?”

roommate!geto who listens to you vent every time you and one of your situationships don't work out "you deserve so much better baby" he says as he pulls you into a hug, planting kiss on your forehead >,<

roommate!geto who becomes more touchy since you started going out on dates again-

randomly cupping your face with one hand and squeezing it gently to make you pout mid conversation;

hugging you from behind while you cook to 'thank' you for making breakfast. "thanks for always cooking for me doll" he says as he wraps his arms around you, feeling his bare chest press against your back~

roommate!geto who when you're bored you go to his room to hang out with, but end up falling asleep on his bed-

roommate!geto who's mesmerized by your sleeping figure and doesn't have the heart to wake you up when he wants to sleep so he ends up climbing into bed with you.

suguru is hyper aware of EVERYTHING. how your hair smells, how soft your legs feel, the fact you aren’t wearing a bra- it all he can think about all night.

in the early hours of the morning when he absolutely cannot deal with his morning hard on anymore he goes to get up, but you grab his wrist, "sugu don't go" you whisper, dragging him back to bed~

roommate!geto who makes you getting ready cocktails <3

roommate!geto who you 'platonically' ask to practice kissing, because you haven't kissed anyone in a while and you don't want to disappoint this 'guy that you really like'-

roommate!geto who actually kisses you <3

as the cold metal of his piercings brushes against your lips, you lean deeper into him. his hand snakes up to wrap around your neck and you feel a wet patch forming in your underwear.

as the kiss turns into a full blown make out session, he notices you squeezing your thighs together- his hands move to cup your face and he swipes his tongue over your lips willing you to part them further. your hands begin roam, while his tangle in your freshly curled hair. instinctively you cup his erection through his pants. he let’s out a moan- almost a whimper.

he needs you so bad. he thinks about how good your lips would feel wrapped around his cock. how cute you’d look all messy and drooling over his length, batting your eyelashes up at him. he’d scoop all your hair up and push your head down further onto his erection. watching your makeup you spent so long on get more and more messed up eventually cumming undone in the back of your throat~

the kiss is languid, feverish and messy, but ends when the door bell rings and your date is here.

he watches you get up from the couch, tugging from at the hem of your dress, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and attempting to smooth your messed up hair.

“have fun baby” he says with a smirk as you slip on your shoes~

roommate!geto who actually dies inside when you actually start dating this guy you met on tinder.

roommate!geto who just lets out a scoff when you open your birthday present from your boyfriend and it's a gold necklace- you ony wear silver.

"here princess," he says as he hands you a small jewelry box with a little bow on it. opening it to find a silver necklace~

"thank you sugu i love it!" you say leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. he doesn't miss the way your boyfriend rolls his eyes at your reaction.

roommate!geto who “borrows” your dirty panties when you’re not home~

laying in your bed, he wraps a lacy thong around his cock, slowly fucking his fist, thinking about how much better he is than your asshole boyfriend.

roommate!geto who cums in your panties and then puts them back in your laundry basket- who would ever notice?

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻

a/n: sorry it took so long to get this out haha, I was kinda scared to post it 😭

Im super open to feedback so please lmk if I should’ve done anything differently

I have part 3 almost ready, but it’s gonna be more of a drabble/one shot format!

[evilgwrl]

Neighbour!Simon Riley x Reader

Girl Next Door (One)

CW: Mutual masturbation ;)

Inspired by Neighbour!Simon

Chapter Two

Your legs perched up across the woven strings of the porch chair, knees littered with blue and black kisses, knotted joints tucked into your chest as you watched the peak of gold settle into a deep blue. Bony fingers laced the pages between parched hands, eyes darting maliciously between words as you hummed to yourself softly.

You were used to being out here alone, an orchestra of bats occasionally sounding out to you as they scurried away into pine trees, nipping between each other.  Your flat, a smaller duplex, was tucked away into a quiet cul-de-sac, away from the hustle and bustle of London life. It was an organised routine, your body succumbing to the night air as you bathed in the comforting atmosphere of the twilight. There was an occasional hum from up the road, the chug of a car passing through, but your interest peaked when the gravel road lit up, headlights streaming towards you as you shielded your eyes.

The sound of the engine frightened you a bit before you adjusted your vision. A large shadow stepped into view, the staggering height of a man peaking your attention before you took in the balaclava flushed against his face, russet eyes covered by a delicate frame of blonde lashes, stained with black face paint staring at you before dropping his head in a curt nod.

You recognised him as your neighbour. Quiet bloke, away often on deployment you presumed, but nether-the-less was a comfort for you. Even at home, it was like he was never there, the occasional echo of hollow boots sounding against the floorboards before they disappeared. He was ghostly, slightly peculiar but you noted him down mainly as mysterious.

You had spoken a few times, sounding good morning as he was outside having a smoke when you were leaving for work. His response was gruff and shallow, a deep voice barking out a short reply before smashing the dart under the rubble of his shoe, calloused hands gripping the door handle.

He walked past you, duffle bag dropped against the porch as he huffed with his keys, bruised knuckles peaking your attention as you glanced at him, framed eyes peering in curiosity.

“Y’ alright?” His tone was curt, a hint of annoyance ringing through as his eyes stained trained on the metal knob, working the key through the hole.

You squeaked out a noise, taken back by him as you adjusted in the chair, feet flat against the floor now. “Yeah, sorry, I’m just not used to you being here, it’s uh, nice for you to be back, less lonely,” you rambled, shuffling your hands awkwardly before you shut yourself up.

He let out a grunt, the noise almost animalistic sounding as he shut the door, his vague appearance shuffling into the quiet of his own home as you sat outside, whispering an expletive under your breath as you prodded at the ecchymosis on your nobbled knees.

Rough hands rubbed at the face paint, gentle soap working into the scorn skin, thickened skin almost melting under the velocity of the scolding water. Simon’s throat was scratchy, the irritating feeling of sandpaper lining his oesophagus as he choked out a cough. Broken blood vessels littered across the scarring of his back and ribs, a splurge of hematoma drawn across the broken skin.

Ivory skin was now painted with falling droplets of water, a scratchy moose-coloured towel adorned his hips as he shook his hair, moist residue landing on the mirror as he rubbed his hands across his face, a soft moan leaving his lips as he prodded the tender knot in his back.  

His home felt foreign, no matter how long he had lived there for.

His bedroom had dusk lighting, a double bed pushed against the flaky walls, the metal rods holding the frame scraping at the paint. A singular pillow to each side perked up against his touch as he layered them, unused linen welcoming him with a slight dusty smell, aching body collapsing into the plushness of the duvet.

He was aware that your bedroom was adjacent to his, your beds pushed directly together on opposite ends. He could hear the subtle creaks of your feet against the floor as you shuffled around, a chair squeaking across the floor as it collided with something before the noise of you walking sounded again. Simon could hear the springs in your bed, an acknowledgement that you were now lying down.

There was a low hum of a fan whirring, the white noise drifting into his room as he stared up at his own, the stagnant noise felt unorthodox, the familiarity of the barracks being the usual for the Lieutenant. Simon’s hands felt weighed down as he moved them from his chest to rest at his side, his breathing shallow as his ears perked at every movement you made.

You were restless, sweaty body tangled between cotton as you adjusted yourself, flinging your blankets off you as you let out gentle pants. You cursed at the lack of air conditioning available in British homes, peeling off your silken pyjama shorts as you flung them somewhere across your bedroom. Your body was hot and achy, the heat settling in even during the night as you turned to the side, beady eyes watching as the wind flickered the branches occasionally. You were tempted to sleep outside at this point, your room feeling like a sauna as you let out a frustrated quip.

There was a subtle ache between your thighs, a dull throbbing ringing through your brain as you attempted to position yourself better, clicking your calves as you rustled around. Tired arms stretched your top over your head as it too met the wraith of your floor, bare breasts perked against your sheets as you closed your eyes, cuddling up against a pillow.

Slumber never succumbed to your heated frame, the drill of your fan almost teasing you as it provided minimum cooling. You spread your legs, sweat prickling over your stretch marks as you moaned in annoyance. Your fingers trailed your slit through the thin fabric, turquoise-coloured panties fading into an aqua as you let out a shaky breath. You felt dirty, the dull throb of your cunt mocking you as needy fingers hooked into the lace, dragging them down the plushness of your thighs before settling at the end of your bed.

You fumbled around in your draw, clumsy fingers feeling around for your bullet vibrator before they rubbed against the silicone. You were sure to be quiet, your hands covering the majority of the vibrations as you nestled it between your folds, collecting the sweetness of your slick before resting it on your achy clit, an instant moan rising at your throat as you tweaked at your nipples.

The hum against your sex wasn’t enough as you sat up, resting the vibrator on your swollen nub as you straddled a pillow, sloppy pussy grinding against it rapidly as you rutted like a dog in heat, chasing your high.

You were a sight for sore eyes, breasts bouncing at your movements as you humped against the cushion, the cheap sex toy sounding against the bundle of nerves as you let out soft whimpers, mouth opened in an ‘o’ shape as you tugged at your hardened nubs that were practically aching against your chest.

It was like you were going through puberty again, squishy sounds squelching from your cunt at the licentious actions, hips getting sloppy as you felt your coil forming, antagonising moans dripping from your lips as you stilled, the silicone pressed sweetly into your clit as you whined into your hand, orgasm ripping through you as you jutted away from the stimulation, collapsing into a heap.

Simon frowned at how quickly your noises were over as a spit-covered cock throbbed in agony, veiny hands jutting around the angry member as he milked himself to the memory of your orgasm, hot splashes of cum spurting against his belly, a thick trail of hair leading down to his softening cock as he cleaned himself up before nestling into the comfort of his sheets and the barely audible hum of your breathing.

[alanisstonedd]

okay bluecollar!rafe but yall. can we make it MARINE!RAFE?? or more specifically MARSOC!rafe* who works for ward at cameron construction co. on leave?? like hello i need him bad guys.

cw: MDNI smut, cursing, stuff in public, food play, cum eating, military stuff, ass play, manhandling, 1 mention of fighting, recording

*marsoc: Marine Forces Special Operations Command - basically what COD men do

like he starts off as a standard private officer after enlisting when you guys graduate high school. he works his way up from private to corporal to sergeant major, and then eventually to captain, colonel, then general. i mean hes fucking unstoppable, hes blowing thru these ranks like nobodys fuckin business, and he not stopping anytime soon baby he in his primeeee.

he moves on to MARSOC and leads a small team on SPEC-OP missions in like borneo. hes literally the best of the best. his full file is like 4 pounds, full of successful recon missions, confirmed kills, successful captures of enemy targets, accurate tracking efforts, successful counterterrorism efforts, successful hostage rescue and successful direct action raids. when theres a REAL threat? they call LT Cameron. callsign? RAIDER

NOW. when baby comes home on leave he works at the family construction company ward owns, building giant beach houses for rich kooks. he eventually inherits cameron construction when ward gets too old to work and he helps ward retire bcs of the cash from being the most elite soldier in the US military. bae is tannnn bcs of construction work ofc, but also since being in the military he likes to go on runs and be in nature to clear his head. and yall alr know hes yatteddddd, both sleeves done by his boy at home on the cut, who happens to be a very talented tattoo artist (barry...)

strictly keeps a buzz for deployment but will grow out a mullet when hes home. signature gold chain is always on, and has a tat on his ring finger for you and maybe one on his forearm. does he have both ears pierced with fake diamond studs in? yes.

is currently in the blueprint stage for a beach house he wants to build you on figure 8 (and one in florida... and will probably start planning another one if he ends up having a long ship-out next deployment) even tho he despises rich fucks and is suchhhh a country boy. i mean hes like pogue!rafe but hes more of a mudding, dirt biking, bonfire, shotgunning beer, lifted truck, bar hop, football game kind of guy. and the most elite soldier in the US military ofc.

takes you on stargazing dates and fucks you in the truck bed, a big beach towel set down and his head in your neck while he ruts into you short and fast. occasionally gets into bar fights when some dick is tryna say sum to u. is such an ass man and will smack and grope that shit wheneverrrr whereverrrr - has zoned out of convos with people while feelin HIS booty up + loves to grip your pussy with his big ass paw when no one is looking.

has a super firm grip due to years of being a marine and WILL manhandle ur ass around - into various positions, onto the bed or couch or counter or etc., up over his shoulder when you gettin on his nerves. gets actually animalistic when yall fuckin, and yk that boy a munch. growls and grunts sooo loud the whole time.

will take you to the dock and fuck you on the family fishing boat. will christen any new bar yall go to by fucking you in the gross bathroom and carving both your initials in the wall with his pocket knife that ward gave him when he was 15. is kinky af but lets u bring it up bcs he feels awkward talking about it. is sooooo nasty - will eat his cum out of you with his whole mouth, eyes locked on yours, sucking your lips into his mouth. then, when it’s not enough, he drags you up to sit on his face and rubs your clit, watching you clench and letting his cum drip from you right onto his tongue.

will stick a thumb in your ass during doggy, while reaching for his phone bcs the way u throwin that ass back on him? yall bout to make another movie. loves watching you clean him up after round 5, when his dick is covered in his and your cum - will not let you miss a spot, even where it dripped down over his hefty balls to his ass. and he rarely shaves - uncut.

if it’s a hot day, he’ll turn the ac off and find you so he can lick the sweat off every crevice of your beautiful body while he’s fucking you over the counter. both of you completely butt naked bcs it’s hot. has a sweet tooth - will interrupt you while you’re baking and strip you, laying you on the counter like the dessert you are and eating the frosting off his favorite parts. get especially excited when it comes to sweets on your nipples.

honestly if that aint a FEASTTTT i dont know what issss

[gracie-eilish]

💍thinking about thoughtfulness…

“go sit together so you can open some gifts!” your mom called out, pointing towards where billie was setting two chairs next to each other near the front of the room.

you looked up to see billie looking over at you with a soft smile, already sat on a chair.

c’mere!!! she seemed to say, waving you over excitedly with a goofy look on her face until you made your way over to sit.

your person of honor sat off to the side, ready to take down names and gifts in a list for thank you notes billie was sure you’d hand write in a few days.

in between gifts, she’d press a kiss to your cheek or temple. acknowledging the cute excitement you had as you both opened up… well.. pots and pans, dishes, a steamer, some towels.. an air fryer… regular wedding registry things. with of course some sweet bridal/wedding themed gifts mixed in between.

until you reached the last one. tucked away behind all the other ones, in a pretty decorated bag. gold embellishments on it making it seem bridal.

it was a cute assortment of gifts. matching jewelry trays for both of your rings to sit in at night, cheesy matching mrs. and mrs. mugs and tea towels, a gold decorated photo frame for assumingely a wedding photo to soon reside, and a small velvet box at the bottom.

billie subtly let you take the bag into your lap, to reach down to grab the box, watching you with a loving eye. you set the bag aside and leaned over to open it with billie.

inside resided a ring. not just any ring. the ring. the one you had dreamt up in your head, combining pinterest photos, and wedding magazine clippings, customizing the ring you wanted.

and there it was staring back at you. and it was real. not some dream.

billie sat back in her chair a bit, happily smirking at you. you both had proposed to each other without rings on a whim, caught up in emotion and love and longing, not bothering to wait for rings or rose petals or candles. just wanting each other.

“you like it baby?” billie purred, her arm wrapping around the back of your chair as you looked up at her with wide glassy eyes.

“what is it?” someone called out curiously.

“it’s their ring.” billie replied proudly, eyes not leaving yours. your friends and family all melted. everyone knew you guys didn’t propose with rings, and all assumed you’d both just go to the jewelry store and pick out rings together. so this was a total surprise that she had it ready to go for your wedding shower.

“billie i.. i don’t know what to say.”

“you don’t have to say anything. just let me put it on your pretty little finger.”

and you did.

it slipped on like a dream. you couldn’t get over how she remembered every detail perfectly. the stone, the cut, the carats, the sizing, the band, the color…

as you lay together in bed that night, you snuggled up to her side and let your left hand rest on her chest, allowing the diamond to sparkle in the moonlight.

“did you really buy us all that cheesy matching crap just to surprise me with my ring today?” you asked, a wide smile growing on your face.

“um excuse me, i don’t think they’re crap if the towels are already hanging in the kitchen missy,” she teased scrunching her nose at your sheepish smile. “and yes, yes i did buy a bunch of matching crap just to surprise you.” both of you burst into giggles.

“well it’s perfect billie. i can’t get over how you remembered everything.”

she just smiled, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “i wouldn’t dream of buying you anything else baby. i mean, this is literally you in a ring.”

she took your hand softly, leaving delicate kisses on your knuckles.

“this is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever worn.” she whispered, fingers still entwined, running her thumb over your hand, making you blush furiously.

“and i can’t wait to marry you my love.”

i’m not back yet. just couldn’t get this idea out of my head:)

[throneofsmut]

Sweet Little Prince

Dorian Havilliard x Reader || WC: 1.9k || Warnings: None

Summary: Dorian finds out he has a son he didn’t know about. Based on this req.

A/N: Whoever req this i hope you like it. Idk if this is what you expected but it’s what came to mind.

****

Your son had finally fallen asleep causing you to let out a relieved sigh as you brush back his raven-black curls from his face.

A smile gracing your lips before placing a kiss on his forehead and quietly making your way out of his room, heading down stairs back to the kitchen.

You find Rowan putting the chocolate cake into the oven to bake.

“You finished it?” you ask as you step up beside the oven. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know, but I didn’t know how long you’d be.” He replies without looking over his shoulder at you. “And I know you want to get the recipe just right for his birthday tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

He gives you a nod before rising to his full height again and moving to the sink to wash his hands. “Your sister wants to talk to you.”

“About what?” You lean on the island that’s in the middle of the kitchen.

Rowan turns around facing you as he dries his hands. He doesn’t say anything until he’s done and places the damp towel on the counter. “About you being Queen of Terrasen and ruling beside her. Together.”

You shake your head, brows furrowed, “Since the war ended, I think I made it pretty clear I don’t want to be Queen.”

“Why?”

“I told you, why already. You, Aelin and Aedion. I don’t want it.”

“Tell me again.”

“Rowan—“

“Tell me.”

Letting out an annoyed sigh, glaring at him for a moment before telling him. Again. “I don’t want to rule. I don’t want a crown or a throne. I have no taste for duty. I’m not suited for it.”

He crosses his arms across his chest. “Have you ever considered that, the best ruler, might be someone who doesn’t want to rule?”

A small chuckle slips through your lips earning a glare from him. “No, I don’t. Because I don’t want it.”

“Your sister just thinks that—“

Aelin walks through the front door of your cottage, “I just think that, it’d be safer for both of you if you moved into the castle and were crowned. She reaches the two of you in a few long strides. “You would be Queen and he”—your son—“would be the crowned Prince.”

Now it’s your turn to cross your arms across your chest. “He’s technically already a prince and I’m capable of keeping us both safe here—in our home. We don’t need to be in the castle.”

Your sister’s—your twin’s— face softens and she walks up to you. “I know he is,” she says gently. “I know you are. . . but please think about it. And if you don’t want to be Queen here, what about Adarlan? Dorian keeps asking about you.”

“Aelin,” you sigh, “you’ve been telling me to ‘think’ about it for two years now and I don’t want it. Or Adarlan’s”

She opens her mouth to say something, but before she can your son’s voice cuts her off.

“Mommy?” he calls out. “Mommy, where are you?”

“Coming, baby,” you call back.

Aelin steps back and you make your way upstairs to his room. As soon as you walk into his room he sits up in his bed. “I hear Aunty Aelin and Uncle Wowan, downstairs.”

“Did they wake you up?” You ask as you sit on the side of his bed.

He nods his head, rubbing his eyes—one sapphire blue and one bright ashryver blue, ringed with gold—“Can I say ‘hi’?”

You breathe out a small laugh, nodding, “You can say ‘hi’ but then you have to go back to sleep.”

He nods his head and lifts his arms for you to pick him up.

You head back downstairs with him in your arms. His head resting on your shoulder with his arms wrapped around you.

Aelin and Rowan both walk up to meet you, closing the distance. “How’s my favorite nephew?” Aelin coos.

“He’s your only nephew,” Rowan points out. Which earns him a glare from your sister.

“Say ‘hi,’ baby.”

“Hi, Aunty Aelin. Hi Uncle Wowan.” His little voice is still thick with sleep.

They both greet him back with loving smiles.

“Why are you awake, little prince? We trained a lot today.” Rowan asks him as he brushes a rogue raven-black curl behind his little pointed ear.

“I hear you and Aunty Aelin and I wanted to say ‘hi’.”

“That’s so sweet of you,” Aelin praises.

Your son smiles, his cheeks dimpling, and he turns to look at you. You can’t help but beam at him in return. Your own cheeks dimpling too.

He lightly tugs a golden blonde lock of your hair before whispering—not so quietly—“I go sleep now?”

“Yeah, baby.” You chuckle before giving Aelin and Rowan a quick look and they nod back at you.

And as soon as you’re done tucking him back in he’s sleeping. You kiss his forehead before heading back down stairs, “Sweet dreams,” your whisper into his night filled room.

“Fireheart!” Rowan scolds your sister as she shoves a forkful of steaming chocolate cake into her mouth.

She spits it out before even chewing it and you frown. “That bad?”

She shakes her head, brows furrowing sadly, “No. It’s too hot.”

“I told you to wait,” Rowan grumbles.

“Anyways,” you drawl out. “Why’d you come so late, Aelin?”

“My meetings ran long today and I had an unexpected visitor come.” She blows on a new forkful of cake to cool it down. “They’re going to be visiting for the week.”

You arch a brow, “Who?”

“A friend.”

Your gaze slid to Rowan, who shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I’ve been here all day.” And he was right. He’d been here since the morning teaching and training your son because the raw magic he’d inherited from his father began showing.

And a two—practically three—year old with raw magic and fae ancestry needed to be taught control early it seemed.

Also because fae males—even half fae males were deadly. Rowan and Aedion knew that so they came and helped you teach your son control. Fenrys and Lorcan had given up after your son had learned to summon fire and burned off their eyebrows.

Aelin groaned as she chewed a new bite of cake. “Good?” you asked. She nodded, still not finished chewing her first bite before getting another. “Are you still going to be able to make it to his birthday tomorrow?”

She gave you a look as if to say, Obviously, before finally telling you with words. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Your sister and Rowan said their goodnights and Rowan had to practically drag her out because she was still trying to eat the chocolate cake. So to make it easier for both of them you just told her to take the whole thing with her. Her eyes glinted as soon as the words left your mouth.

You woke up early the next day to get everything ready for your son's third birthday and you had practically finished setting up and getting ready by the time Aedion and Lysandra came to help set up.

An hour later the rest of Aelin’s court—your little family—arrived.

Everyone was enjoying themselves and eating while your son and Lorcan and Elide’s daughter played together while Evangeline watched over them.

You got up from the table to go get the cake, still needing to frost it and add the candles.

Aedion rose with you, “Do you need help?”

Giving him a small smile as you gestured for him to sit back down, “No, I got it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll be quick.” You reassured him.

Setting the cake on the counter that was in front of the window where you could still see your son playing with his cousins. He was conjuring fishes with his water magic and making them dive in and out of the lake in front of him. His cheeks dimpled as he laughed along with the girls.

You were so distracted by your son and the cake that you didn’t hear anyone walk in until they called your name.

“Y/n?” He called.

You stilled as your heart dropped before slowly turning around. The frosting spatula clutched so tightly in your hand your knuckles were white.

“Dorian,” you breathed.

He was still as beautiful as you remembered him. Tall, tan skin, sapphire eyes and raven-black hair. But, he was broader now—more muscular. And in place of the black collar that was around his neck the last time you saw him was a pale line.

“Why— How—“ he stammered.

“Why are you here?”

“I’m visiting. . . I got here yesterday evening and Aelin said you were all celebrating a birthday and invited me.” You were going to kill her.

“You settled.” He pointed out, his eyes taking you in.

Even though he wasn’t necessarily asking, you responded anyway. “Yes.”

“How? You’re twenty, I thought you weren’t going to settle for a few more years.”

“I didn’t think so either, but, uh, I actually settled while I was pregnant.”

Dorian’s face flickered with so many different emotions before he schooled his features and simply asked, “Pregnant?”

“Yeah. . . and not only did I settle but my son’s magic made me fully fae.” You didn’t know why you were just telling him everything. “The healers don’t know how either, but him being half fae confirmed it.”

“Son?”

“It’s his birthday today,” you told him.

Dorian’s mouth opened, but before he could say anything your son’s laugh drifted all the way back to the cottage and cut him off. His sapphire eyes shot to the window and he sucked in a sharp breath.

There was no denying the resemblance. He knew he was the father of your son.

His gaze turned back to you and there was so much pain and regret in his eyes but hope too. Maybe even love. “Why didn’t you tell me?” was all he said though.

“I was going to,” you admitted. “But before I got the chance to,” your voice cracked, “your father ordered you to kill me when he found me trying to talk to you.” A tear rolled down your cheek and he stepped closer to you and wiped it away. “So I ran. To keep us both”—your son and you—“alive.”

Your words weren’t malicious, just honest.

“You don’t remember?”

His eyes were still on you as he shook his head before looking out through the window again. “I missed so much,” he whispered so softly you almost didn’t hear him.

“I’m sorry.”

Dorian pulled you into a hug, “Don’t be. You’re both here. Safe and alive. That’s all I care about.” His words made you cry harder and he only held you tighter and kissed the top of your head.

You both were so caught up in your own world that you didn’t hear the little footsteps that bounded into the kitchen.

“Mommy?” Your son called and you and Dorian pulled apart.

He walked up to you and you crouched down to get to his level. “Why you crying?” He asked, his small hands wiping away your tears.

“I’m just so happy, my sweet little prince.”

He smiled and turned to look at Dorian. “Are you mommy’s friend?”

Dorian chuckled as he crouched down too, tears welling up in his eyes, as he looked at a small version of himself. “Yes. Her best friend.”

Your son smiled impossibly wider and stuck his hand out towards him and introduced himself. “Hi, I’m Dowian.”

Dorian looked at you and this time a tear fell. He cleared his throat, taking your son’s hand, “Hi, Dorian. My name is Dorian too.”

[cuteandhughesy]

Congratulations on 1k followers!! It’s so deserved!

Id like to request prompts 32 + 41 with Quinn Hughes. Maybe with insecure reader ~~<3

prompt no.32: “did I stutter?” + prompt no.41: “you’re it for me.”

dating a professional athlete wasn’t for the faint of heart—that much you’ve learned in the past 7 months of being in that very position.

other wags has warned you about the fans and reporters. how boundaries will always be crossed, and even through your man is the one in the spotlight, it feel like you too are under a microscope. jealous girls will pick you apart, commenting on your weight and appearance and what colour lipstick you wear until you’re doubting yourself.

nosy reports will comment on how you treat your man. are you cooking for him? making sure his laundry is done? cheering loud enough to look supportive but not loud enough to be heard. they’ll reprimand you if you speak out or speak up for what you believe in if it doesn’t align with your views.

they’ll call you a gold digger if you don’t work, but if you do have a career, you’re selfish for not devoting all your time to your man.

look right.

act right.

perfect yourself.

at first you didn’t think much about it. for the first few months of dating vancouver canucks captian quinn hughes, it was private. soft launches that had fans knowing, but not enough proof to label what the two of you were to another. but as you got more comfortable, so did the hockey world.

girls would leave awful comments on your pictures and send you cruel messages—you’re not skinny enough, or pretty enough for quinn. you dress like a slut or sometimes you dress like a prude. you look like a bitch. you’re only dating quinn for the paycheque—even worse, you’re only dating quinn as a stepping stone for his brothers.

you tried to ignore all the negativity—from awful fans and sports blogs that have nothing better to do than comment on you—and focus on the positive comments. but even that proved to be difficult.

it started to take a toll on you, and quinn noticed. at first he waited. he didn’t want to push you into talking about something that made you uncomfortable. quinn wanted you to come to him and/or let you work it out on your own. it’s not that he didn’t care, but he knew you were strong and determined, and he knew you didn’t care about strangers opinions.

until you did start to care.

it’s almost midnight as you stand at quinn’s bathroom vanity, slowly massaging moisturizer into your skin as quinn steps out of the shower behind you. smoothly he wraps a fluffy towel around his hips, water trickling down his chest as he makes his way over to you.

you smile at him through the mirror, but it doesn’t meant you eyes. quinn’s lips tug down, pressing his warm chest against your sleep shirt covered back as he brings you into his arms.

you sigh as he starts kissing your neck. there’s no hurriedness to them, or an underlying desire, but instead the kisses or soft—intimate—and reassuring.

you gnaw on your lip, head falling back against his shoulder. “feels nice,” you whisper into the steamy bathroom. quinn doesn’t answer you, his hand slipping up your thigh and under your t-shirt, fingers skimming higher and higher up your body—feeling you. your lower half becomes more and more exposed, and your eyes narrow in on your bare skin like second nature.

thighs with imperfections that you haven’t shaved in a week.

when was the last time that bitch got a wax? poor quinn is with a beast.

your lower belly, protecting your uterus but bulging out in a way that creates a bump.

is she pregnant? she looks pregnant

your hands, hanging limp at your sides.

he’ll never put a ring on a girl who looks like that.

your breathe catches, body tensing in quinn’s hold. he pauses, raising his head from your neck and catching your eyes in the mirror. expect you’re not looking at him, but yourself.

“hey,” he starts softly, spinning you around in his hold, giving you no choice but to look at him. “what’s wrong honey?”

your lip trembles, “nothing.”

his palms slide up to your face, holding your cheeks in his gentle hands. quinn tilts your head back, just enough so that you can’t hide away by looking at the floor. his thumbs stroke your cheeks smoothly, a frown on his face. he doesn’t believe you for a second.

“it’s not nothing,” quinn says, “is it something online?”

shock registers across your face. you never told quinn about what’s happening on social media and nasty comments, mostly because you were too embarrassed to admit that it was bothering you. your mouth opens, but nothing comes out.

quinn’s intense gaze doesn’t falter, and neither does the soothing movement along your face. you sniffle, “it’s just…” you trail off, “am I pretty enough?” you ask after a beat, voice timid and seeking as you blink up at quinn.

“are you pretty enough?” he repeats, brows pulling tightly together in confusion. “of course you’re pretty enough. you’re more than just enough?”

“but like-“

“did I stutter?”

you blink. despite his reassurance, you can’t help the wave of insecurity that’s rushes through you. when hundreds of people all comment on your appearance, negative and condescending, over and over again, you can’t help but start to believe it.

and quinn knows what it’s like being put on a pedestal only to meet others high expectations. then getting slashed down, degraded and belittled like some toy. it’s awful, but that’s just about his game. he can’t even imagine something commenting on your appearance, knowing you can’t change it.

“they say i’m not good enough for you,” you tell him after a beat, picking at your own hands absentmindedly like a nervous tick. even hearing yourself say those things makes you shiver.

quinn shakes his head, pressing a soft long kiss to your forehead. “don’t ever believe that for a second,” he says, lips brushing your skin, “you’re it for me, okay?” 

and somehow that’s enough.

—

(unedited)

[pseudowho]

hi haitch!! do you have any works about hiromi worried about his hair getting too grey too fast? if not... could you...? 🥺

Domestic Bliss: Higuruma Hiromi #4, Silver Fox

Hiromi leant on his desk, elbows planted and face buried deeply in his palms. The stress would surely kill him. He wondered, vaguely, about making his life insurance policy more generous, in the likely event of him dying young. At least, then, you'd be looked after.

After another lost case, however, Hiromi saw it as far more likely that he'd murder the Judge and Prosecutor instead. He laughed to himself, a chuckle ringing through the empty office. As if.

Running his fingers through his hair with a groan, and gazing into his palms, Hiromi's stomach dropped. At least half of the stray hairs caught in his fingers were...grey.

Hiromi felt them in dismay, his mouth comedically downturned. Coarse. Almost wiry. Nothing like his usual silky black hair, those corvid feathers that you loved so much, now being devoured by time, and shit, I'm starting to look like an old man I can't have it she'll hate it I can barely keep up as it is fuck fuck fuck--

Hiromi stood with a groan, and stopped himself, sounding like his grandfather. He caught his own eye in the reflection of the shining gold tellers' lamp on his desk. He pointed to himself, stern.

"Get your shit together, Higuruma."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Arriving home late, you stepped straight into the other side of a striptease. A discarded black and white suit led an enticing trail to the bathroom, in the order of: shoes, suit jacket, socks, shirt, trousers. You kicked your own shoes off, following the trail with a jaunty call.

"If I get in there, and you're still wearing boxers, I'll be very disappoi--...Hiromi, what on earth are you doing?"

Hiromi sat on a kitchen chair in front of the bathroom mirror, surrounded by the sickly sweet scent of hair dye, the remnants of a box scattered around the sink. With a towel around his shoulders, and solemn eyes, Hiromi held out the prepared bottle of dye to you.

"Help me?" He begged, his voice small.

You sighed, stripping off slowly to your skirt and blouse. Hiromi waggled the bottle at you, which you took, and stepped in front of him. He would not catch your eye. You ran your fingers through Hiromi's hair, and he couldn't help but purr, leaning into your touch. Your fingernails across his scalp never failed to make his cock twitch.

"And why do you think you need this?" You asked, pressing Hiromi's forehead forwards against the plush of your belly. "I thought you loved your hair."

"Yes, quite. Loved. Past-tense." You looped your finger through the strands of silver and black, like crema on an americano.

"Well, I love it. Right now. Present-tense."

"You're just trying to make me feel better--"

"--of course I am, I'm your wife--"

"--who deserves someone not even half as decrepit as me--"

"--who deserves to see you age. And mature, like wine, or cheese, or Maggie Smith--"

Hiromi grabbed your hands, standing and pressing you backwards against the sink. His towel slid from his shoulders, leaving him in just his boxers as he glowered over you, stern and authoritative in a way you rarely got to see him. A wave of heat burst from your heart, outwards.

"Enough. I hate it. Get rid of them for me. Please, I'm...not ready yet. Not ready to get old. It feels...everything feels wrong. Something feels...wrong."

You swallowed, and allowed him to lift you onto the counter, looping your arms around his shoulders as he tried to bury himself into you. You felt an eerie disquiet trickle, cold, down the back of your neck.

"Hiromi...you're not old. Grey doesn't mean old. You've just...lived. You're beautiful. My silver fox."

Hiromi sighed, the hot puff of air from his nose against your neck. Stress rolled off him in waves. You stroked his hair again, cradling his head against you. Hiromi murmured.

"I'm sorry, it's just...what a stupid last straw." He berated himself. "My fucking hair. I knew there were a few greys, but-- just-- not that many."

Hiromi was silent again, the nuzzles of his nose growing needy, almost aggressive as they built, his lips dropping petals against your skin. You locked his hips between yours, satisfied by the shudder he rewarded you with, his cock straining against your core. He mumbled through his kisses, fragile.

"...Oe's case tomorrow. Oe Keita. I just wanted to feel...vibrant. Powerful. Not washed out, not ugly, like-- like--"

You silenced Hiromi, slipping your hand flat against the black trail of hair on his belly, your fingertips grazing the base of his cock. He swore, bucking into your touch, shoving his boxers down to free his weeping cock. You whispered to him.

"Not ugly. Yes, powerful. And you'll be amazing. You always are." Hiromi moved with urgency now, yanking your skirt up, and your panties aside. Stroking his tip between your folds, his corded shoulders heaved with the clawing need for relief.

"Even if I'm late home," Hiromi gasped, as he pressed himself inside you, gripping you before you could squirm away, "even--even if I'm late-- wait for me-- please--"

"Always." You whispered, carding your fingers through those feathers of black and grey, arching with bliss as you felt him begin to move within you. "Just...come home to me. Just as you are, now. Present-tense."

[feyhunter78]

Sunbathing and Wedding Rings

Description: It’s a sunny day and the crew has some downtime which means sunbathing, repairs, relaxing, and probably some flirting between you and Sanji.

You’re laid out on the deck of the ship sunbathing wearing a bathing suit so pristinely white even Zeff would be proud. A bright blue towel beneath you protecting your perfect skin from the wood planks, the sunlight caressing your body gently. Large round sunglasses cover your beautiful eyes, your hair splayed out in the towel above you to avoid getting sweat in it, he presumes.

You’re gorgeous. A vision in the sunlight, the very picture of summer and all its goodness, no a goddess, you’re a goddess of summer, and beauty, and gentleness, and countless other things, he could spend hours rattling off everything he admires about you.

“You know you’re being a total perv, right?” Zoro’s dry drawl cuts right through his inner monologue as he leans on the railing alongside him, jerking his head towards you.

“Am not.” He argues, tapping his cigarette on the railing, the ash getting caught by the sea breeze and sending it floating towards you—oh shit.

“Sanji wherever you are, I swear that better not be a cigarette I smell.” You yell, not even getting up from your reclined position or looking around, confident your voice would reach him wherever he was on the ship. You could be loud when you wanted to be.

“Sorry, princess.” He calls back, snuffing off the cigarette with a smile, returning to basking in your beauty. You care about him, about his health.

“Total perv.” Zoro reiterates.

“I’m looking, not perving, and we’re married, so I think it’s actually my legal duty to look.” He says, holding up his left hand, the gold band around his finger glinting in the sun.

“Yeah, one of these days she’s going to remember she only married you to get out of that shit town of hers and get your marriage annulled like it was supposed to be months ago.”

Sanji feels a stab of sorrow at the thought but waves it aside, just as he waves Zoro’s words aside. “It’s alright to be jealous my friend, but don’t worry you’ll find someone to put up with your temper and your weird hair, and obsession with swords that surely isn’t compensation for someth—”

His words cut off when Zoro elbows him in the gut before walking off. “Go back to perving, Waiter, I’m gonna find Nami.”

“Hey y/n can you tell me if this spyglass looks like it’s mounted straight?” Luffy called down from the helm.

“Yeah, sure, one second.” You say, sitting up and tying the flimsy black cloth you use to cover up around your hips, the fabric draping down to the tops of your thighs, covering your ass much to his delight and sorrow. Maybe Zoro was right, he is perving a little.

You stand and take a few steps back, then move more towards the center of the ship, looking up at Luffy. “Maybe move it a little to the left, no my left, no Luffy that’s still your left, okay, okay yeah stop there, that’s perfect.”

“Thanks y/n.” Luffy says, giving you a wide smile, turning to Ussop, the two of them securing the stand for the large spyglass.

You return the smile and return to your towel, pausing a second to stretch your arms over your head, going up on your toes as you do so, the fabric rising higher on your legs.

You’ll kill him one of these days, he just knows it.

“Sanji! I didn’t see you there.” You say, moving until you’re standing below where he’s leaning on the railing, looking up at him, sunglasses now perched atop your head.

“Just enjoying the view.” He says, the words coming out much more flirtatious than he intended.

You giggle and toy with the edge of your coverup. “Oh yeah?”

He swallows hard. “Yeah, ocean is really beautiful today.”

“Just the ocean?” You ask, batting your eyelashes at him, the sun giving you an almost halo, your skin glistening. You’re like a siren, and he’s completely helpless to your spell.

“Well, the ocean and a few other things.” He says smoothly, miraculously finding his footing once more.

You pout up at him, and drag his name out, each syllable getting special attention. “Sanji, don’t tease.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, smiling fondly down at you. “Come on now, sweetheart, you know there’s nothing prettier than you.”

“You didn’t say pretty, you said beautiful.” You remind him, arms crossed—unintentionally or maybe intentionally, he isn’t quite sure—pushing up your breasts.

He clicks his tongue and turns around, resting his back on the railing, trying to compose himself. “Yeah, you’re right, I did.”

You’re up the stairs and in front of him before he can take out a new cigarette, foot tapping impatiently as you glare at him ineffectually. “Sanji, you’re being mean.”

“To a beautiful woman like you? Never.”

You roll your eyes, arms crossed again.

“There’s nothing and no one more beautiful than you, y/n.” He smiles softly, heart pounding in his chest at the way you beam at his words. “No one more spoiled, either.” He continues, chucking your chin playfully. “You really are a princess.”

“Yeah, your princess, remember?” You hold up your hand just as he did to Zoro, your matching band catching the light a little more, the flowery pattern engraved along the band clear in the midday sun. “Don’t act like you had no part to play in making me this way.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I do believe you were like this when I got you.”

“Got me?” You laugh, your nose scrunched up in disbelief. “I guess that’s one way to describe it.”

It was the easiest way. Though he could recount your meetings and marriage in excruciating detail, from the moment he first saw you, bumping into him in a froofy nightmare of tulle and silk, to your tear filled eyes begging him to help you, to marry you so you could escape the man your parents picked for you, so you could fulfill your dream of setting sail and seeing the world. Luffy had heard the word dream and jumped at the chance to help, all but ordering Sanji to marry you, and strangely he didn’t feel like protesting.

And to the moment the priest told him he could kiss the bride, and you grabbed his face and kissed him in the nick of time. You swore the marriage could be annulled in the next town over, and thanked him profusely for his help, as you followed Luffy back to the Going Merry, your hand still in Sanji’s the other holding up your many skirts so you could run without tripping.

Month after month had gone by, town after town and yet neither of you mentioned annulments, letting each dock get smaller and smaller as the ship sailed away, the rings staying firmly on your fingers. He tries not to think about what that all means, and focuses back in on you.

“A bargain deal, really.” You joke, still smiling at him, still holding your hand up.

“A priceless treasure.” He counters, taking your hand and pressing it to his lips.

A flustered expression overtakes you, and you giggle, ducking your head to hide your smile. “You flatter me.”

“It is only fitting to flatter a princess.”

“Barf, gross, enough with the mushy stuff. Sanji, what’s for dinner?” Luffy asks, hanging halfway over the railing above them.

You bite your lip and look away, trying not to laugh. “Yeah Sanji what’s for dinner? The captain’s hungry.”

“Dinner isn’t for another five hours.” He says, trying hard not to laugh too. It’s a fine compliment from Luffy, his constant desire to eat what he cooks, but of course today it came at the wrong time.

“But the captain’s hungry, Sanji.” You smile, saying his name in a singsong tone that should be annoying, but when it’s you it’s not.

“See, y/n gets it.” Luffy says, dropping down onto the deck and slinging an arm over your shoulders, giving him a thumbs up. “I’ll take her away so you can concentrate, don’t worry.”

“I can concentrate just fine with her around.” He protests.

But you’re already walking off with Luffy, waving to him over your shoulder with a teasing grin, your ring catching the light again. “See you at dinner.”