#he's a tad bit crazy but that's okay

[toontalks]

Manhwa Characters being relatable

[astrxealis]

good morning my personality for the day is that i'm uncontrollably sobbing on the inside about ff9 and ff10

[bee-the-whovian]

if I had a nickel for every game where my only contribution was my character being called at an ungodly time of morning to be asked a question she didn't have an answer to which both players in question knew she didn't know but had to ask because it would make sense for her to know it... I would have two nickels, which isn't a lot, but it's.... it sure happened.

[slightly-knot-insane]

Loving your writing and saw that you’re accepting asks!

I have this thought about monster boyfriend of some sort who is desperate to have sex but you’re hesitant/nervous because he’s so big/will knot you. He reassures you and says that he’ll put in just the tip to ease you into it and then you’re both going crazy for it and he goes feral and thrusts the whole thing in/pops his knot in you

I'm so happy to hear this! Especially since English is not my first language (if that isn't painfully obvious lol). Thank you for this incredibly excellent ask!

Hidden in the Basement

[ m!monster x fem!reader ]

You could hear him in the basement. It was that time of the year - he goes into rut and he simply... needs his alone time. He always kisses you, lingering just a tad bit longer than usual, and retreats downstairs.

You stand outside the door. He is trying to stay as quiet as he can, muffling his groans and heavy breathing, but he's too loud. Too pent up.

You want to help him. He is almost frenzied when in rut and sometimes hurts himself or the others. He recognizes you, of course, but there is something in his behavior that scares you. Although - you bite your lip - not in a necessarily bad way.

You notice the basement is too quiet. Is he okay? You try the door handle - surprisingly, he didn't lock himself in. Perhaps he forgot? You go downstairs, as quietly as possible. It is almost too dark to see, but you can't turn on the light - you shouldn't be here after all.

He is kneeling on the floor, his huge pulsating cock in one hand as he is trying to get off. It is out of the sheath, a big bulbous knot at the base, and leaking glans on the top. His other hand is holding your panties. He is sniffing and biting them while jacking off. The fabric is completely damp.

Your face burns from embarrassment. Somehow you feel you shouldn't have seen this. Maybe you could sneak outside without him noticing? But... do you want to? You've never seen him like this, barely human, his limbs different and longer and stronger, his neck wider, his tail more flexible. It was him, but not completely. Also his cock... it changed in a rather interesting way.

He finally senses you and his eyes snap open, his pupils dangerously dilating.

"I'm sorry!" You panic and try running upstairs. You barely climb two steps before he grabs you from behind and lifts you. You yelp in surprise. He carries you downstairs and, without letting you go, kisses you. Everything about him is different, even his embraces. They are so intense, more consuming, needy. More feral. His hands quickly remove all your clothes and his fingers find your breasts.

"Wait," you gasp. "You are so big. I can't..."

He nibbles your neck, his large hands cupping your ass cheeks. "I need you. I will be careful, I promise. Let me have you a little bit or I'll go mad." His voice mutated into more dominant, animalistic one. You whimper as his finger finds your pussy and pushes against your entrance. "Not wet enough."

In one easy move, he lifts you up in front of his face and places your knees over his shoulders. Once your pussy is perfectly leveled with his large mouth, he proceeds to eat you out like a starving animal.

"Aaaah... aaah..." You wiggle and pant, sensations too overwhelming. But he firmly holds you in place. His tongue reaches places no toy or his human form ever reached. It circles around your clit and pumps into your entrance, swelling and pulsating. Your boyfriend pleasures you until you're soaking wet and trembling, and then lowers you just above his massive cock. "Please!" you scream, intimidated by the knot. "I can't do it..."

"I will put just the tip in," he reassures you. "I would never hurt you."

He sounds like your old wonderful boyfriend and you slightly relax in his arms. The way he kisses you by biting your lips, licking your face and sliding his long tongue deep into your throat is truly something special. Distracting you with his mouth, he slowly forces his glans into your pussy. It glides easily, and you both moan.

"You are so..." he whispers under his breath. "So tight. So amazing."

He barely enters and immediately lifts you up again. He is breathing heavily and sweating, his muscles trembling. You know it's not because he can't hold you like this - he is barely controlling himself, trying not to impale you on his massive cock.

"More..." You whine, his monster phallus rubbing against your wet walls. "Give me more."

He grunts happily and let's you slide down. He fills you completely, holding you safely with his arms. "Fuck... Can I go faster?"

"Yes please." Your blood is already boiling, nerves vibrating from incoming orgasm.

He starts bouncing you up and down, only pushing the half of his length inside. It doesn't feel uncomfortable. He is stretching you bit by bit, and immediately pulling out. His grunts and panting, and your moaning surround your sweating bodies. "Fuck... Fuck..." you both pant into each other's ear.

"Harder," you moan and his hips start jerking upwards when his arms lower you down. The impact is so much stronger, more intense, more ecstatic. After just a few thrusts, you climax and scream into your hands. You are so loud, it's embarrassing.

"No, let me hear you. Scream more for me. "

He speeds up, your pussy contracting around his cock and you can only moan and whimper from your overwhelming prolonged orgasm. He presses you against his chest, growling like a beast, and jerks his hips upwards. There is some sudden pain, but pleasure too, and you cry out.

His low moans become louder as he pounds you. Your entire body feels his body, all around you and inside you. Finally, with a hard thrust, he grunts into your hair and forces you even harder against his body. Hot liquid enters deeply into your womb. It feels amazing.

With panting and drooling all over you, your boyfriend lets your torsos separate. But nothing else.

"I knotted in you. I can't pull out." He sounds both happy and worried. You look down and see a big bulge from your swollen pussy all the way to your navel. And finally you realize his whole monster cock entered you including the knot. "I'm sorry," he says.

It doesn't hurt too much. It's a bit sore, sure. With little practice, you are sure you could do this every day. The thought makes your pussy throb. He feels that and looks at you curiously.

With a sly smile, you rub the tip of his cock through your skin and it twitches. "Sorry? I'm upset we haven't tried this sooner. No need to hide in the basement from me ever again." Realizing what you said, he happily purrs and embraces you.

[lightseoul]

cw. worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (25), pining (if you squint), a lot of cussing (typical of bkg), reader has an ex-boyfriend, reader is alluded to being smaller than bkg, some violence (nothing major)

words. 3.3k (this kind of got away from me)

masterlist | part 1, part 2, part 3, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9

You don’t know how you got here, really.

Actually, you do. And you’re slowly regretting every decision that has led you to this moment by the minute.

But alas—here you are, watching Bakugou (or rather, his expensive ass sports car) pull over in front of your apartment.

And you’re about to say screw it and go back inside and just text him you don’t feel too well as if you weren’t just at the front door a second ago when your boss finally steps out of the driver’s seat.

Now you’ve seen Bakugou dressed up on numerous occasions. Never as his date or companion—hell, no—but you’ve witnessed him dressed up to the 9’s enough to reach the point of not getting affected at the sight of him in a suit and his hair pushed back.

But you can’t help the sudden tightness in your throat when you do see him.

He walks up to the porch and stops a few feet away from you and almost immediately, he gives you a once-over. Despite yourself, you look down at your heeled feet, suddenly feeling overly self-conscious. Or maybe it’s also to stop yourself from staring at him because damn.

And you hate yourself for it.

It’s his voice, though, that pulls you out of your hazy stupor. “Are you hopping in are we just gonna stand here all night?”

You internally roll your eyes as you follow him to his car, feet already starting to hurt even though you literally just put the heels on a few minutes ago. You’re about to open the door to the backseat when Bakugou stops you with one hand and opens the door to the passenger side with the other.

You look up at him in question, although you quickly look away, unable to keep eye contact any longer, and shuffle in. “You really don’t have to do—that—” he shuts the door, “okay.”

He rounds the hood of his car and settles on his seat soon after. As he brings the engine to life and tinkers with the Bluetooth, you take the opportunity to take in the interior of his car. Needless to say, it is immaculate—this being the first time you’ve ever been here as you’ve always declined any offer from him to drive you home.

Why is that?

You’d chalk it up to feeling uncomfortable about your boss giving you a lift, especially as the HR head, but deep inside you know it’s more because being in a small space with him (alone, especially) makes you just a tad bit crazy.

Just a bit.

Since when has this been a thing?

Shrugging off the rather unsettling thought, you intentionally bring your mind to other things, like how nice the car smells—or how your hair and makeup ended up exceeding your expectations. You’re in the middle of appreciating how smooth Bakugou’s driving is when it hits you like a ton of bricks.

“Hold up—” you turn to him in horror, “you’re not seeing anyone, are you?”

At that, Bakugou’s face contorts in what you think is offense before it morphs into a snark expression, like he’s about to retort with a playful quip but decides against it last minute.

“No.”

Before you can stop yourself, you slump against your seat, relieved. You can’t believe you forgot to ask about this crucial piece of information prior to agreeing to this ruse.

A foreign kind of curiosity—the type that you haven’t felt in a while—suddenly takes seed and blooms in you, particularly about Bakugou and his romantic life. But you quickly tamp it down before you blurt out a wildly inappropriate personal question to your boss.

The second Bakugou puts the car in park, you hurriedly climb out of the passenger seat, not minding how ungraceful you look, desperate to get out of the small bubble you’ve found yourself sharing with your boss for the last hour.

Quickly scanning your surroundings, you find that there aren’t many people in the parking lot—perhaps it’s because of the fact that you’re cutting it close, which was totally not a conscious decision so that you’d spend the least amount of time at the wedding as possible—but as you two walk in silence towards the venue entrance, you start noticing it.

You feel people holding their gazes directed towards the both of you a little longer than normal. You try to shrug it off, but even as you state your name to the kind-looking lady who you believe is assigned to usher guests to their seats, you’re acutely aware that a silence has befallen upon the room and it’s your arrival that has caused it.

And you’d bet good money you saw in your peripheral vision a few do a double-take upon seeing you.

The lady doesn’t even try to hide her shock upon seeing the number two pro-hero. Eyes wide as saucers, she barely stammers out his pro-hero name in what you believe is a…question?

Bakugou, the ever-skilled PR prince that he is, merely gives her a curt and somehow pained nod, as if this exchange is yards beneath him. “That’s me. My name’s probably not on the list, though,” he gestures to you, “I’m just her plus one.”

With that, it’s as if the lady just got reminded that you were standing just right beside him and that you existed.

“Oh, of course!” Her eyes dart toward you and then back at him and suddenly her eyeballs are akin to that of the toy in a pinball machine—darting between the two of you in record speed, the gears in her head turning as if processing what the fuck this lowly guest is doing, showing up with the Dynamight to a wedding.

“Sorry,” she chuckles, probably feeling self-conscious in front of the man, “what was your name again?”

You repeat yourself with the most gracious smile you can muster. You can’t blame the woman for slightly losing her cool in front of the boss. The only reason you’re not stumbling and embarrassing yourself in front of him is because you’ve had practice.

In fact, three years and eight months worth of it.

But that practice practically flies out the window when you feel something brush against your right hand before encasing it entirely.

You look down at the point of sensation and it takes everything in you not to gawk at the sight of Bakugou’s big, firm hand wrapped around yours. You immediately whip your head to look up at him, but the guy isn’t even looking at you. Instead, he seems to be listening intently to what the lady is saying that’s a hundred percent going in one of your ears and out the other.

“…f-follow me—right this way, p-please!”

You stumble behind him as he leads you to where the lady is directing the both of you, hands still interlocked.

“What are you doing?” you hiss-whisper, keeping your voice low enough to make sure she doesn’t hear you panic.

“I’m saving your life, dumbass,” he hisses back.

Saving your life? The man is giving you a damn heart attack. And making you the target of the thousands of news outlets known to man.

“Oh, do tell me how that’s so?”

Although you can’t see his face as he’s practically dragging you forward by your now clammy appendage, you’re 99% sure he’s rolling his eyes. “It’s ‘cause people are fucking staring.”

“So naturally you have to hold my hand?”

He halts to an immediate stop and you almost collide with his backside if not for your marginally quick enough reflexes. He scowls at you over his shoulder and it shocks you to see how red he’s gotten over a reasonable question from your end.

It’s not like you just asked him why he’s number two or something.

“Yes, I do, if we want a shot at making this the slightest bit believable.”

Before you even get the chance to respond (that is, grumble at him like a petulant child because the motherfucker is making sense—like he always is), you get interrupted.

“Is everything alright?”

Both of you quickly face the lady who you find is trying not to let the concern get to her already wobbly smile.

She’s failing.

“Yeah!”

“Yup.”

At that, she nods, although she seems to be suspicious—hesitant, at best. “Well, then—these are your seats. Enjoy the wedding!”

The ceremony couldn’t have been more dragged out if they tried. They probably had a dozen technical difficulties. The flower girls who were literal toddlers refused to walk down the aisle and had to be hauled by their parents to get it done and over with. The officiator was so irritatingly loud that he didn’t even need a microphone from the sheer volume of his booming voice. And you could tell he was going over the time limit because the wedding coordinators at the perimeters of the venue were getting more and more antsy by the minute.

Bakugou, who was seated on your right, was not fairing any better. You lost count of the times his head bobbed toward you as he drifted in and out of consciousness. He’s been sleep-deprived the entire week—you knew that. A notorious villain has recently resurfaced and he and Kirishima were the police’s primary contacts for this case. Suddenly feeling guilty for having inadvertently dragged him to this snoozefest with you, you debated whether or not to tell him he can rest on your shoulder so he can get some rest but immediately decided against it because what the fuck.

Eventually, and miraculously, you get past the ceremony relatively unscathed. Well, as far as unscathed in this situation can get.

You managed to avoid your ex’s sights the entire time. Luckily, you and Bakugou were assigned at a far-away table alongside distant friends and relatives—courtesy of the bride, probably, and really, you couldn’t be more thankful. By the time picture-taking per table rolled around, you conveniently excused yourself to the bathroom and waited it out until you were sure your group’s time was up. When you sheepishly walked back to your table, Bakugou didn’t seem to be too comfortable, probably from having been left alone, but from the look in his eyes, you could tell he knew what you were doing and why you did it. Despite his appearances, he’s perceptive like that.

With only a few, necessary words exchanged between the two of you, and the occasional smiles and affectionate behavior whenever either of you felt prying eyes, you eventually find yourself finally loosening up and relaxing.

In contrast to the past few hours in which you were evidently tense and barely managed to join in on small talk around you, you’re now actually conversing with your table-mates who, thankfully, haven’t asked you how you were related to the bride and groom.

Bakugou probably notices this change in demeanor because you spot him eyeing you with a serious look on his face before cooly looking away as if you didn’t just catch him studying you.

Before you can think much of the expression on his face, the young woman seated across from you who you’ve gotten to know as Kairi says your name, effectively snapping you out of thought.

Right before dousing you with ice water with a supposedly innocent question.

“Sorry—what?”

She chuckles harmlessly, paying no mind to your reaction. “I said, how do you know the bride and the groom?”

Shit.

“I—uh,” against your will, you chance a look at Bakugou who’s already looking at you with a seemingly neutral expression, although you’ve been around him long enough to see the traces of panic adorning his features.

A few more seconds pass by in silence before you decide to just tell the truth.

You laugh, although it comes out a bit stilted. “I’m actually an ex-girlfriend…”

Unsurprisingly, everyone at the table goes quiet at your admission, before they seemingly remember to put up appearances by laughing good-naturedly with you.

“Well, good on you for showing up!” Kairi says, giving you a thumbs up. The rest of the group pack on their agreement and support. She eyes Bakugou with a mischievous grin, “And with precious cargo, too.”

Her friends elbow her in chastisement, and you can’t help the flush that takes over your face at her unabashed flirting. You chance a glance at the man in question, only to find him acting like he couldn’t give a single fuck.

You’re about to pipe up with a genuine compliment in Bakugou’s way, lest they end up thinking you don’t agree that “your man” is fine as fuck (and isn’t this the part where a person is supposed to brag about their partner?) when a silence befalls upon your table again.

Only this time is more awkward than the last.

“What..?”

You follow Kairi’s line of vision and turn to look at the thing behind you that’s caught their attention only to find yourself face-to-face with him.

He exclaims your name—like he’s delighted to see you—before scooping you up and bringing you into his arms.

You collide with his chest with an unceremonious ‘oof’ and despite yourself, you toss Bakugou a look (cry) for help over the guy’s shoulder.

And like the hero that he is, Bakugou stands up smoothly, buttoning his suit all the while.

Clearing his throat, he shoots your ex a stony glare while offering a hand to shake. “Good to meet ‘ya. I’m Bakugou, her boyfriend.”

A whirlwind of emotions dances across the guy’s face before they finally settle into one that causes scalding shame to stir within your gut: utter disbelief.

“My bunny got herself a boyfriend?” You cringe at the sound of your old pet name, and Bakugou’s glare turns even colder at the mention of it. You try to ignore the hurt that’s springing in your chest at your ex’s incredulous tone.

The guy’s eyes dart between the two of you before they finally settle on your boss. “And that person is you?”

As if he couldn’t get higher on the asshole meter, your ex drops his head back as he howls in laughter, as if he just heard the funniest joke ever. You feel your face flame in humiliation, and it’s as if you get possessed for the next few seconds.

Because in the blink of an eye, you find yourself clenching your fist so hard and bringing it up to the asshole’s face, where it collides with his jaw with a loud crack.

Almost instantaneously, you recoil and bring your hand back to yourself because that shit hurt, and fuck, you just punched a guy.

At his wedding.

You don’t know what comes over you because the first thing you do is not apologize to the guy who’s writhing in pain on the floor or look at the people who are most probably already watching the scene. No, the first thing you do is whip to look at Bakugou, who’s now grinning at you.

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you grab your purse with one hand, Bakugou’s hand with the other, and toss your dickhead of an ex a ‘have a great rest of your wedding’ before beelining out of there and straight to the car of the man whose hand you’re holding.

“I—”

“Nope.”

“You—”

“No.”

“Just—”

“Shut the fuck up, Bakugou.”

At your crass words, Bakugou takes his eyes off the road to look at you in amused disbelief (or, at least you think so—you’re only looking at the man through your periphery; you’re too embarrassed to meet anyone’s eyes right now).

“Woah, there, princess,” you can hear him smirking. “Not sure that’s how you want to talk to your boss.”

“Oh, bullshit,” you fix your gaze to your right, itching to get out of the car. “I thought you were my date tonight. You can’t be both at the same time. That—that just doesn’t sit right with me. You know, as the HR head of your agency?”

The man merely snickers in response, and you’re lulled into a comfortable silence.

Before he decides to speak again.

“‘Have a great rest of your wedding,’” he chuckles to himself as he stops at a red light. “Classic.”

You turn to regard him, having had enough. “Do you mind? I’m kind of having a crisis here.”

At that, he snorts. “Over what? You just had the best payback in history.”

You ignore him, opting to bury your face in your hands instead as you wail, “I punched a guy at his wedding.”

“Damn straight, you did.”

You gape at him like he just grew horns. “I’m sorry, were you not there? In case you forgot, Mr. Dynamight, you were technically my date. You’re guilty by association.”

Just as he is about to respond, the traffic light quickly turns to yellow then green, and you take it as an opportunity to keep rambling.

“And practically everyone there knows you. Shit, Mikuri-san is going to kill me.”

“Tadashi Mikuri? From PR?”

“Yes,” you seethe, although you know Bakugou has done nothing wrong to be at the receiving end of your shame-induced anger. You groan, “This is going to be a nightmare to clean up.”

Bakugou doesn’t say anything after that, and you have to restrain yourself from poking at him to say anything—anything, really—to assure you that no, everything is going to be okay, and that no, your career or reputation is not over.

Eventually, and without you noticing, you pull up in the driveway of your apartment. Heaving a deep sigh, you will yourself to finally keep your chin up and face whatever the fuck is waiting for you tomorrow head-on, even if you were going to do it alone. Grabbing your purse and phone, you’re about to thank him and say good night when Bakugou reaches over the console and places a hand over yours.

“I—” he starts, and you look at him expectantly, trying not to seem weird about the contact.

He clears his throat before giving you the most reassuring nod, “I’ll take care of the press. Don’t worry about it.”

Before you can ask him how the hell he’s planning to go about that, he beats you to it. “And don’t ask me how. Just—” he finally looks at you, “trust me.”

You can’t bring yourself to do anything but nod back.

The next morning, you wake up on the relatively right side of the bed for once until the events of yesterday come crashing down on you like an unprecedented avalanche, effectively robbing you of your good mood.

You chance a peek at the phone on your nightstand, debating whether or not to throw it away and religiously avoid social media for the rest of your days. After what feels like an hour, however, you decide against it and pick the gadget up.

Only to be met with 57 texts, 23 missed calls, and 300+ notifications on your Twitter and Instagram accounts each.

Your stomach sinks as the feeling of dread instantly washes over you. Overwhelmed, you click on one familiar message thread you have with your best friend.

(11:46 PM) bestie<3: girlllll (11:46 PM) bestie<3: what the actual FUCK pick up your phone (11:47 PM) bestie<3: NOT YOU PUNCHING THAT DOUCHEBAG (11:47 PM) bestie<3: and since when have you been dating dynamight??? HELLOOOO??? (11:47 PM) bestie<3: when were you planning to tell me all of this bc im lowkey salty (11:51 PM) bestie<3: girl…. you have to see this (11:51 PM) bestie<3: (see link)

Your fingers are practically trembling when you click on the link, and in hindsight, you’re glad you’re on your bed because what you see next makes you drop your phone:

BREAKING: #2 Pro-hero Dynamight seen at a wedding, alleged “date” punches the groom

tagging. @kitthepurplepotato @chelbyisbord @lovra974 @katsukis1wife @brunnetteiwik @bunnysaursushii @k0z3me @meeeepsworld @asura-rose @dragonscribble

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 have a lovely day!

[pearlzier]

tbh i think nerd!matt explaining fortnite terms, items.. guns.. ect to me would fix me

- 🧃

⠀⠀⠀ˑ   𓈒 𐔌  ㅤnerd.ᐟmatt  ×  nerd.ᐟreader   ͡꒱ ۫⠀

⎯⎯⠀⠀⠀your honour i love them !!! theyre so cutesy !!! also someone tell me if the layout is cute or not....... gdjdh yay :3 n also whether i should write more for these two gaspsies

YOU'D BEEN SAT BESIDE MATT as he played fortnite for a while now, maybe an hour or so. you didn't exactly want to bother him, so you'd been quiet for the most part. when matt plays fortnite, he takes it seriously, when he loses? yeah, he needs a little time to cool down after before he says things he's pretty sure he'll regret. his tongue idly flicks at the gum in his mouth, jaw working occasionally on it as he sits at the desk, meanwhile, his fingers deftly work at the mouse. your eyes linger on the veins on his hand a moment before you catch yourself, knowing he almost has a sixth sense for those sort of things.

eventually, he notices your silence. pushing back his headphones, he glances at you over his shoulder and gives you a soft smile. even though he was focusing on his game, he always preferred hearing your voice. "you're quiet, babe," he murmurs, multitasking glancing at you and also playing the game. you always wonder how he does it, but well, that's matt for you. "you okay?" his brow furrows a minute, biting his bottom lip before his head tilts to the side a little bit. at that, a soft smile plays on your lips, and you nod.

"yeah, yeah, just watchin' you," all you'd been doing was scrolling your phone, watching him. you were pretty content to be completely honest, but of course, you did want his attention. "m'not distractin' you, am i?" you say after a second, placing your phone down into your lap so you can focus your attention on him.

"distracting me?" matt scoffs, a quiet chuckle slipping past his lips. "in all respect, you're not exactly doin' anythin' to distract me," he teases softly, and his smile grows when he sees the way you roll your eyes. a warmth runs through him at the sight—god, he falls more and more in love with you each day, he's sure of it. "c'mere," he says, "missin' you." his voice goes a little quieter there, a tad bit needy in parts.

"needy," you retort, a giggle escaping you, but all the while, you get up and make your way over to him. his eyes rake over you, lingering at different parts of you. damn it, he loves the dorky little graphic tee that you're wearing, it suits you so damn well. "y'too far away," he's quiet for a minute, "if i asked you to sit on my lap would that be crazy?"

"might have to ask my lawyer," there's a playfully reluctant tone in your voice, and matt gasps, his mouth falling open with a little indignant noise. that in itself makes you giggle, and you peck a quick kiss to his forehead before planting yourself into his lap. matt leans back, letting you settle in his lap before he moves forward again to press his chest up against your back. shifting his weight beneath you, a soft sigh slips past his lips. "comfy?" he asks, head tilting to the side.

glancing back at him, you agree, "comfy," and he hums, resting his chin against your shoulder so he can look at the screen once more. wrapping his arms around you, he gets back to playing the game, humming occasionally. "gonna actually crash out if some kid starts campin' again," he scoffs, eyes rolling as he plays. your brows furrow a moment, a tad bit of confusion filling your gaze. "campin'?"

"y'know, people who stay in a certain area, jus' waitin' to kill you. campin', like they're settin' up a tent in a place just to shoot at ya," he explains it effortlessly, licking his lips after, not even giving it a second thought. he knows fortnite like the back of his hand, like he knows you. basically—he knows practically everything about it. "oh," you nod, biting your bottom lip before you release it with another nod. "you get it?" matt asks gently, wanting to make sure you understand what he's on about before he continues playing.

he enjoys telling you things about the stuff he likes, sharing his interests. though he knows you're not as into fortnite or gaming as he is, he knows you like learning things from him anyway. "okay, good, you'll be a pro in no time," he muses, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder before he glances back at the game again. you watch him, seeing how he doesn't have to focus all that much and still be damn goof at the game. it's admirable.

after a few minutes, he realises the warmth that ran through him when he'd explained what camping was. it was simple, shouldn't have meant as much to him as it did, but it did. he's quiet, quiet grunts coming from him as he plays before he's speaking again, voice soft, "y'know what a dub is, baby?" it's hard for him to hide how giddy this makes him, getting to teach you this stuff.

"uh.." immediate thought? like, the english voice overs for animes and stuff, but you're 99% sure that's not what he's talking about right now. "no," you say, once you've considered his words. "mmh, a dub is just a win, i guess. what, uh, about a one pump? in game, of course, uh.. not anythin' else," he knows you don't know this stuff, which makes it a little better for him. eyes lifting to yours, a soft smile plays on his plush lips, followed by a flush on his cheeks when he clears up any misconceptions.

"you're askin' me like m'supposed to know," the words are grumbled as they leave your mouth, but you smile, shaking your head. you're not exactly into video games like he is, he's a video game fiend. you literally have to rip him off his console to get him to sleep or to get him to leave the house. meanwhile, you've got your head buried in a book or eyes glued to your phone screen 'cause of some good fanfiction. you'd get him to read some fanfics with you one day, you're sure of it.

"there's uh," matt sits up, "one sec," he waits until he's shot some guy in the game, so he can focus on explaining to you as he hides out in some corner of the map. "i mean, it got vaulted, but there's a pump shotgun, right?" you nod, not exactly understanding what he means by vaulted, but sure. seemingly, he notices this, and he adds, "vaulted s'like, they're not in the weapon rotation right now. so taken out, like, to balance the loot pool. you followin' so far?" you're a little busy looking at the way the light in his eyes shimmers with every word he speaks, but you mumble a quiet, "uh-huh," in response to show you're listening.

"okay, yeah, so s'called the pump shotgun, so what d'ya think a one pump is?" damn matt and his ability to teach so well. no wonder he tutored people for some extra cash on the side, he was damn good at it.

"one pump?" you ask after a few seconds.

one corner of his lips flits up, into a small smirk. "that's right, yeah, one pump. think about it," matt encouages, leaning his head against your shoulder a little more before he adds on, "you got this. real simple. like.. a type of shot."

"one pump.. uh, takes one shot to kill someone in game? with the.. pump shotgun?" it's a wild guess of yours, you had no clue, a shot in the dark, to say the least. but to your surprise, it's right, and he practically beams. "you're so fuckin' smart," he sighs, a little giggle of his own escaping him. nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck, he gives you a few gentle kisses as a little well done for getting it right. it was simple, sure, but he was so proud of you for getting it right.

"y'sure you haven't played fortnite before? might be even better than i am," matt mutters, and he revels in the way you laugh at his words. "you're laughin', i mean it!" he whines a little, poking you in the side which only causes you to laugh more. "mmh, okay, baby, whatever you say," though your words are a little muffled by the kisses you give him on his cheek, he hears you, and his smile only grows a lot more. "don't 'whatever you say' me.." he grumbles.

the moment is cut short however by him realising that the storm is closing in on him, and he quickly sits up, "oh, shit," he grabs the mouse again, "impromptu lesson on don't stay in the storm or y'die, you payin' attention? great."

ִ ֹ ★ @mattybsgroupie, @mattslolita, @stellasturns, @stevelacylovebot, @55sturn, @jetaimevous, @phone4pills, @aesthetixhoe, @venusiers, @chrissdollie, @stvrnmc, @sarosfilms, @beetlejenna, @funkycoloured, @v3nusasagrl, @imwetforyourmom, @deansbite, @beridollie, @pr3ttyf4wn, @sincerebabydoll, @cayleeuhithinknot, @j2ss7, @sweetrelieef, @l3sbiancvnt, @fallbhind, @beausling ִ ꒱

[ecto-hazard]

Fine we’re doing aus? We’re all drawing bill aus? Bill redemption arcs? Okay fine. But mine is like huge brain listen. Listen.

The pines want absolutely fucking nothing to do with this guy right now and everyone else in this town is fucking crazy and vengeful so bill has to get normal lessons from resident normal man tad strange who’s like the only one who puts up with him. Bill dreads normal living with the boring bread man but gets to learn about finding joy in simple things. But actually nobody’s normal here Tad is just like personally insane with masking and routine, he doesn’t fit in with gravity falls residents at all, and weirdmaggedons got him near his fucking limit so he has to learn to let things go a little bit and discover himself. Maybe they both get something from this experience maybe not. Maybe it’s gay or something. Idk I’m exhausted

[icarusredwings]

Be warned. I wrote this at midnight. I have no clue what im talking about. Do you get it?

"Why doesn't this wolverine teach history? Other wolverine did"

Well, because THAT Wolverine had a Charles. Let me remind you just how fragile Logan's mental state is and just how quickly his brain can throw him into a temporary amnesia due to shock and / or panic that is triggered by his CPTSD.

The thing is, this Wolverine has a Wade. Not a Charles. Sure, Jean could probably do something to him if things got too crazy but you know just how dangerous of territory that would be. Yes, Charles doesn't have a healing factor but it was his confidence and perfect reassuring words that helped him, plus If something did happen Im pretty sure he wouldn't blame him much anyway. He knows what hes dealing with. This isnt to say that jean doesn't but I can see her panicking too much and Logan would feed off of that fear and panic and become worse.

Wade, on the other hand, is neither calm nor says the right things, BUT he can't die :D Which is a massive YES when it comes to dealing with a panicking 3+ time war veteran with knife hands. And is known to attack first ask later.

Trying to teach the kids about 'Nam, a thing sets him off. He stares off into space for a bit, Backs up and his breath gets heavy. The hairs on his arms are raised up and his pupils dilate, they widden and its as if he doesn't even remember he's a teacher.

When he starts the whole "Who are you? Where am I!?" Thing, a student (probably the oldest or one that's been dubbed most responsible) slowly just gets up and leaves to tell a trusted adult.

"Mrs. Munroe?"

"Yes?"

"Mr. Howlett is acting funny again."

"Okay darling. Go fetch Mr. Wilson for me? There's a dear."

She, calm as ever walks into the class room, standing away from the door so not to make him feel trapped, and very clearly shows her hands as she gestures the kids to leave.

Backing himself into a corner, he watches them one by one leave, Gripping at the chalk boards ledge and the windowsil, trying to balance and ground himself.

"Come now children. Quietly and slowly please. Good job. Go next door to Mrs. Summers please." Sending them to the next class room so to leave this one empty.

She stands off to the side of the room. Hands in front of her, smiling softly. "Hello Logan."

"What? Who are you?" He almost hisses but can't help but to feel not so threatened. He always did have a sweet spot for women. Maybe its their scent difference, but like most reactive animals, he's a little calmer for women. A little more trusting.

"Im a dear friend of yours. My name is Ororo. You are in no danger here." She states this practiced sentence with the same whisper of a voice.

"Where the fuck am I. How did I get here!? Did you bring me here!?" At this point he's growling.

"Logan, I assure you that no one forced you here. This is a school. You're a teacher."

"A teacher..?" Just a tad he softens, as if you had just told someone who wanted to be a vet when they grew up that they actually would become a very good vet, except the look in his eyes was as if questioning why they would ever him do that. Be a teacher I mean.

"Yes. If you would like to leave that is okay." She slowly sits in a spare chair, her leg crossing, not knowing how long she will need to play baby sitter but she hoped someone soon would alert the other staff of this. It IS a safety risk after all and Ororo knew that if he hurt anyone at all he'd immediately regret it terribly so when he woke.

"You.. you told her to go get someone. Why? Who are you getting? For what!?" Another snap, as if he thought she was trying to trick him into letting his gaurd down.

She smiles. "Your husband."

"What the fuck do you mean my 'husband'!? What are you sayin' lady!?" The venom in the way he says this makes her giggle a bit. Oh, goodness. He really did lose all of his memories, didn't he? How was the same man who once was so dastardly in love with scott to the point of shredding his heart into a gazillion pieces and is married to the silliest man alive, so internally homophobic? The irony of the thought made her laugh.

"And that kids is how you slice someone into sushi. Rice not included-" His weapons tatics and saftey class is interrupted.

"Mr. Wilson?"

"Oh hey, squirt! You wanna learn how to disconnect someone's joints without even leaving a puncture wound?"

"Maybe later.. uhm...Mr. Howlett's scared again..."

You just see Wade running out on these kids like "I'M COMING WOLVIE!"

"What, you think it's funny!? I ain't got a husband lady! Now, Im leaving! And there's nothing you can do to stop me!" He goes to walk out the door only to run into said husband, who immediately hugs him.

"Babe!! Hi! They told me- OUCH- okay yeah I deserved that- no tocuhy I forgot."

And is stabbed.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!? Get off me! Freak!"

"D'aawww!! Did you see that? He called me a freak! I hate to tell ya cupcake, but you're married to this freak. Now, what's wrOOW- Mad kitty are we? Woah there tiger! Easy boy!"

Logan looks at him, confused, stabs him again, and is trying to figure out why Wade's not dying. He goes to slash him in the head and wades like "WAITWAITWAIT NOT INFRONT OF THE KIDS-"

Mrs. Munroe, by now, has gotten up and left, closing the door and letting out a big sigh, wondering what shade of red they were going to paint the room this time.

She does a little clicky on her walkie and infroms all the staff about the situation and so for the next half hour or so, Logan's kids get to skip class and said classroom now needs a deep scrub.

And this ladies and gentlemen is why this Logan doesn't teach history anymore.

P.E. is SOOOO much easier on his mental status, and sometimes Wade joins, and he puts the whole class against him to make them work on their team building skills. Plus- it's funny to watch your husband get slapped in the head with 20 dodgeballs.

[gamblersdoll]

izuku being a creep by taking way more notes about you. i mean, he writes notes about everyone and everything, but you? could be the most interesting thing you didnt even realize about yourself.

he could know about the beauty mark on your sternum, your back, or behind your ear. you wouldnt be able to know since you never really paid attention to that stuff.

or the fact that when it gets a tad bit humid, your hair curls or puffs up just a tad, and certain parts arent even. okay, you could know that, but the unevenness you wouldnt.

or maybe the fact that you smell of faint strawberry fanta, (it being your bodywash.) okay, that was a bit weird. because only you are in your bathroom. maybe it was just the fragrance was potent.

what threw you off was when he left his notes open, giving you access to look through them. (he permitted you to have access since you needed them for class.) yet, he knows what panties you wear, and how the smell after you wear them.

your heart lurches into your throat.

“no foul odor, unlike some. distance of smell of sweat and fabric. its a nice sweat-musk smell!” its written, okay. maybe it wasnt about you, but definitely someone. this was borderline creepy, so you switch to the next page.

“y/n’s bra’s smell like sweat and a fruity scent after a hard day’s work. maybe its her perfume, but it smells so good.” your eyes read, swallowing thickly and biting the inside of your cheek.

what the fuck was izuku saying? theres no way he was a peeping tom, this had to be a set up for him.

little did you know, he had been watching you shower for a good couple on months. he loves the way soap trails down your skin, onto the hood of your clit and down your lips.

he loves the way the soap gets a sheer of your plump asscheeks, watching you take your washcloth and cleanse the area and cheeks. he has to bite his knuckles to not moan, to not growl and give himself away. he tried so hard to not bust in and bend you over.

he loves the fact you also go commando.. alot. loves how you have your own pair of boxers to let your pretty cunt breathe— or just not wear panties to bed. he also loves how grumpy you get on the days before, or during your period.

god, those days make him go crazy. he tries to not take you and rub your body into his form.

and what else makes him crazy? ovulation. you get the need to breed, to be fucked so relentlessly to where you need to be dumbified.

he knows way too fucking much, considerably the fact that he has more eyes and ears than anyone knew.

[just-some-user-hunny]

Okay I've just had this thought about Isekai! reader and Cannibal that I need to get out LMAO

Imagine Isekai! Reader, who isekai'd as a child of Alicent that wasn't originally in the story and grew up pretty close with their siblings, so like one day, like on a hunt with Aemond and Aegon or smth, they stumble, somehow, on Cannibal and readers like "oh, this is my chance I love this dragon" and they just casually walk up to this (considered) VERY dangerous and unclaimed dragon and just claims it (more like Cannibal claims reader). They just casually hit it off and Cannibal is very soft and protective of reader, and meanwhile Aemond and Aegon are just like "😨😨".

Anyway this is very lazy scenario but it's been in my head for the longest time and your Cannibal writing just made it more prominent (amazing work btw) 😭

Hope you have a great rest of your day and ty for reading!!

I love that idea!! And I'm so glad you've enjoyed my writing, it's so fun thinking up stories, and I love hearing everyone else's ideas and thoughts! 🥰😄

You know Aegon is going to drunkenly ramble and boast about how his amazing sibling claimed the Cannibal, wine spilling from his goblet as he rants and waves like a mad dancing shadow. Grinning and laughing, saying how incredible they are. If you're close to Aegon, it's very likely that he feels that you're one of the very few people he can reside in and feel comfort from, so of course he's going to sing your praises.

Aemond, I think, would be impressed- in his own way. His pursed smile, his intense gaze as he watches you ride upon the black shadow that is cannibal. He'd definitely be a platonic yandere for you, and feel extremely protective and caring over your wellbeing. He's crazy about dragons too, his own legendary ancient Vhagar at his heel and command. He'd definitely invite you to ride with him in the skies, two monstrously huge dragons barreling through the heavens. I like to think that The Cannibal would probably be around the same size as Vhagar, perhaps just a tad bit smaller, but still a formidable size and presence.

Helaena, I reckon, wouldn't be all too intrigued in your claim- other than a few wide eyed fearful mumbles every so often, but she loves you all the same. 🥰

[midnightbears]

Arranged marriage with Gyomei pls. Kagaya matched Gyomei with Y/N ​​for some reason and Gyomei slowly falling in love with y/n 🥲🥲❤

✿ i love you, and i want to find out what that means together.

#STARRING: himejima gyomei ft. fem!reader

#TAGS: arranged marriage. gyomei is in his early twenties in this one! set before the main events of kny. some invented lore for the sake of the story please just bear it thanks

#NOTES: hello there! thank you for your request <3 tbh I've always had this specific idea stuck in my head and you just gave me a reason to write for it LMAO i actually went kind of crazy with this fic omg i loved to write it let me know if u would like a part two! hope you like it and hope it wasn't too much LMAOOo

your existence could be hashed over with one word.

purpose.

ever since you could remember, your entire life had been mapped out for you: what to eat, what to not eat, what to like, what to dislike, what to wear, your hobbies, your pastimes, your vocabulary—everything. apparently, every inane thing that had been shoved down your throat was only done to make you a dignified woman worthy of whichever lord they married you off to.

you and your family hailed from a long line of priests and priestesses, where the girls were raised to be proper wives and shrine maidens and the boys were carefully taught the profession in hopes of serving important figures throughout japan.

you were helping your mother tend to the flowers one day when a messenger from the ubuyashiki clan—a kakushi, as you heard they were called—appeared before your temple's door, asking your father to choose and provide the clan with one of his daughters.

you were picked immediately, and you had no choice but to stand before your father, trembling, and pretend that you agreed with his decision with a serene expression on your face. you could tell this was just his way of finally getting rid of you.

in the words of your father behind closed doors, if someone couldn't be bothered to have the decency to visit the temple in person and instead sent a mere messenger to request a carefully trained shrine maiden, it was clear they didn't deserve the best of what he could offer.

you smiled, agreeing with him.

when you went to pack what little things you had, nobody was in the shared quarters; at least you would spare yourself of your sisters' cruel remarks over your father's decision. you did not have many things of your own; you packed your hairbrush, a book, and what few things you held dear.

the kakushi was waiting outside when you emerged. trying to maintain a semblance of calm, you offered him a small smile. he looked at you with curiosity but did not say anything. kindly, he allowed you a moment for a brief prayer before the buddha statue at the front of the temple. then, you were off.

no one came to say goodbye to you.

it was alright, you supposed. the only person you could think fondly of was your mother, and a barbed wire of melancholy slowly wound around your heart at the thought of not being able to part ways properly. you knew that she preferred you over her other daughters, but even so, you were aware that she would never hear the end of it from your father if she came to say her farewells. you would write to her.

you were the third of six sisters, and always, one of them was more talented than you were, just a tad bit more attractive, just a tad bit more creative, just a tad bit more charming. sure, you were well-versed in the duties of a useful spouse—okay, all your sisters were as well. what good was that when you had nothing special about you? what was it your father called you? ah, yes, mediocre.

the kakushi did not speak to you for the entire trip, for which reason you did not know. a question hung on the tip of your tongue, although you dared not ask it. at some point, he urged you to wear a blindfold and climb on his back, which you simply accepted, knowing better than to ask.

you didn't make anything out during the journey, only listening to the sound of small pebbles vibrating against the ground as he made his way up a mountain. after what felt like hours, he finally put you down, gently tugging the blindfold off you and allowing your eyes to adjust to the bright light of morning.

once you were presentable, he escorted you toward the estate entrance. you could tell he was a bit off put by the way you were just accepting things, but he didn't say anything about it.

the kakushi stopped before the towering gate of the ubuyashiki mansion and offered you a deep bow. you thanked him, and you could see him smile with his eyes before he left. another kakushi, a woman this time, escorted you toward a graveled garden, a small figure sitting by the engawa.

she knelt on the ground and bowed her head, and you did the same until she picked herself from the ground.

looking forward, you met the gaze of a boy who looked to be around the age of fifteen, with kohl black hair that sat just above his shoulders. he had the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen, so easy to look at, lavender tainting the irises. he had the calming smile of a buddha, and although knowing nothing about him beyond reputation, you felt at ease with him.

"i am kagaya. i trust your journey went smoothly? thank you for your patience, maiden. i apologize for not going to your temple in person, i hope your priest will forgive me. believe me, i wanted to, but i'm afraid my illness would not have allowed me to make the trip."

the boy's voice was unlike any other you had ever heard, fluid and gentle, causing a wave of reassurance to wash over you. you felt at ease immediately, as though something had just taken every burden off your shoulders and instead shrouded you in a cloud of repose.

"it was no trouble, oyakata-sama, truly." you followed this with a deep incline of your head, your own voice remaining serene and mellow, "it is an honor to be in your presence."

kagaya smiled. "your temple is of great renown. my clan has had the pleasure of counting with your priests and maidens across the centuries. there is no need for such formalities, child."

granted, you were sure you were older than him by a few years, but the way he called you 'child' was comforting, and you were not about to question him, simply keeping quiet.

"you are to marry one of my pillars, maiden. he is an honorable man, the lord of stone, i am sure the two of you will get along. he should arrive any moment now."

you willed yourself to say something, yet you simply could not. you were not the first maiden who was given to a lord for marriage, and you certainly wouldn't be the last. still, your heart did a flip at the simple notion of ending up in a similar situation as your mother, forced to produce offspring until your husband found you undesirable.

for a moment, a cold hand wrapped around your heart in fear of what that man would do with you. however, the single thought of the young boy before you lying about the pillar's honor revolted you. he was telling the truth, and if he said the stone pillar was a good man, then you had nothing to fear.

softly, the sound of footsteps reached your ears, and you turned slightly to see a towering figure approaching, his presence both imposing and serene all at once.

the man who stood before you was unlike any you had ever seen. large beyond comparison, clad in the dark robes of a uniform and a green haori. his stature was immense, with muscles that seemed chiseled from stone. he was young, with an impassive face, yet undeniably handsome. his eyes, clouded with a milky whiteness, told you that he could not see, yet he moved with a grace that belied his blindness.

"this is himejima gyomei, the stone pillar," kagaya introduced, "he has been chosen as your betrothed, and i trust that you will find solace and strength in his presence."

gyomei walked toward you, his movements slow and deliberate, his footsteps echoing throughout the garden—

your breath hitched as he knelt before you, reaching his hand out. but instead of what you expected, he pressed his palm against your cheek, his voice reverberating like a chiming bell inside a cathedral. he caressed your cheek as one would treat an injured butterfly.

"maiden beloved," he murmured, tears spilling from his eyes, "i apologize for making you wait."

the ceremony was that same day, quick and endearing.

you were married in front of oyakata-sama, his wife, and other members of the corps as witnesses. before you knew it, the wedding concluded, and your husband guided you to your new home with you by his side.

gyomei was not acting like he had been given you as some justly won right to do with as he pleased. that set your heart at ease, greatly so, and in some way, it was like he could tell, too. he was walking slowly, allowing you to keep up with his large strides. small talk filled the empty silence of the way home as he listed all the things you would assist him with.

you were to cook for him, clean the estate daily and take care of it when he was away, write letters for him and read them when he received any, and...

huh. that was it.

getting used to your routine was easier than anticipated as weeks passed, although you would be lying to yourself if you said that gyomei's patience and demeanor weren't helping you in the slightest.

he had insisted that you sleep in a separate bedroom within the estate, taking into account that despite being your husband, he was still a complete stranger to you. the very moment you reached your new home, he made sure to explicitly tell you that he did not wish to embarrass you or cause you discomfort in any way, shape, or form.

during mornings, you would naturally wake up at the crack of dawn, your training making things much easier. you would dress yourself in the robes gyomei had gifted you for your wedding and make your way to the kitchen to start a big meal for the day. you'd wake him up then, guiding him to the kitchen to share breakfast together.

most of the time, you ate in silence, although you did not mind at all. after that, you would wash dishes, and he trained. the estate was not that big, so having to sweep the floor or dust the shelves daily did not bother you, and you instead found comfort in the repetitive routine. you would finish quite swiftly and urge gyomei inside again for tea time during noon.

you tried to entertain yourself as best as possible during the afternoons and evenings. usually, you would find yourself tending to a small garden you'd created when you arrived. your husband would sometimes join you, captivated by the sweet smell of the flowers and the sensation of the earth beneath his fingertips. you would explain what the flowers looked like and how they were meant to be taken care of, and he, in turn, basked in your every word.

gardening duty was one of the things you enjoyed most back at the temple, and since no one else was willing to get their hands dirty, you were the maiden who would regularly take care of the flowers.

you bought flower seeds during your first trip to the market in the nearby town and took the time to introduce yourself to as many people as possible. the locals were very kind to you, and as you started frequenting the shops more and more, you were always being greeted by folks who wished you and your husband the best.

as months passed, your relationship with gyomei deepened in ways you had never expected. the initial tension and clumsiness of living with a stranger began to fade, replaced by a growing sense of familiarity and comfort.

gyomei, true to his word, respected your boundaries and gave you space to adjust at your own pace. however, small gestures of care and affection started to seep into your daily life. he would often leave freshly picked flowers from your garden by your bedroom door, their vibrant colors and sweet fragrance greeting you first thing in the morning. sometimes, he would assist you with household chores, his presence making the mundane tasks feel lighter and more enjoyable.

he began to pay attention to the little things, like how you offered wounded slayers who stumbled upon the estate a fresh meal and a place to redress their wounds, or how you fed the cats mingling around your shared home every single night, even noticing that you had taken the time to name them and remember everyone.

the town's people, too, played a part in your growing closeness. they would often remark on how harmonious you and gyomei seemed together, their kind words fortifying the bind that tied you together. you started to see the way gyomei interacted with them and how much respect the people had for him—and you couldn't help but admire him more each day.

your conversations, though initially skimpy and shallow, began to flow more naturally. gyomei's deep voice would rumble through stories of his past with the children of the orphanage, his experiences as a hashira, and the lessons he had learned along the way. you, in turn, shared snippets of your life at the temple, your family, your dreams, and your fears. it was through these conversations that you realized how much you had in common despite your different backgrounds.

anyone with a pair of working eyes would see it, or, at least, anyone who had known for at least once in their lifetime what a soul-stirring connection with another human felt like. you found comfort in his presence, seeking him out like a moth to a flame, and he, in yours, only wanted you to tend to his wounds after missions, fix his haori, or wait by himself outside just so he could pray by your side.

eventually, it got to a point where the separate bedrooms became less of a necessity and more of a formality. you often found yourself falling asleep together in the living room after long conversations or shared moments of silence. whenever you did manage to part ways, you always lingered by your door, a dreamy smile encasing your lips.

you could not deny yourself anymore. you were the happiest you had been in years.

one evening, as you both sat for dinner, the familiar quiet enveloping you like a warm blanket, gyomei's voice broke through the tranquility.

"i love you."

the bunch of food you were going to bring into your mouth splattered into the bowl again with a messy splash. oh. oh my god. you whipped your head toward your husband, who stared at you with a soft expression on his face.

"you do not have to say it back if you do not feel the same, but i wanted you to know." then, gyomei went back to chewing his food as if he had not said what he had just said.

"why?"

gyomei shifted his head in your direction with a worried expression, your teary tone and doddering heartbeat doing nothing to mitigate his apprehension. he tried to reach for you, but you jerked away from him. he could tell that whatever you were feeling was not directed toward him, but still, it pained him greatly to know you were suffering.

"g-gyomei, i—"

your hands were shaking, and he reached for them to trace your skin with the pads of his thumbs. he opened his mouth, but you beat him to it as you keeled over, shoulders trembling as sobs left your mouth, your usual calmness thrown out the window.

"y-you said that you wouldn't embarrass me! there is nothing special about me. what is it about me that you could possibly love? you're always so good to me," you were throwing word vomit at this point, and the worst part was you did not even know where it was coming from, "i haven't done anything to receive your affection! i'm just doing the things i'm supposed to do..."

tears slid down his cheeks before he could stop them, and he leaned forward to pull you into his embrace. your body completely froze, an unknown emotion taking over. gyomei had never initiated contact before. most of the time, you had to be the one to grab his hand or tug his collar.

"my little maiden... you have no idea how precious you are to me," gyomei murmured, his voice impossibly gentle and firm. he held you close, his large, comforting presence grounding you as your sobs began to subside. "you see yourself through the harsh lens of your own eyes, but i see the truth of your heart with my own. your unconditional kindness, your strength, your sincerity—these are just some of the reasons i love you."

his words seeped into your cold heart, slowly quieting the tempest inside. you couldn't understand how someone as incredible, kind, and powerful as gyomei could see such worth in you, but the sincerity in his voice and the warmth of his embrace made you want to believe him.

"you don't have to prove your worth to me or anyone," he continued, his voice alleviating your wounded spirit. "you are enough, just as you are. your presence in my life is a blessing, and i am grateful for you every single day."

"gyomei," you whispered, your voice trembling but no longer with fear. "i… i love you too. i was just scared. scared that i wasn't enough for you."

he smiled softly, wiping away your tears with his thumbs. "you are more than enough, my love. and i will spend the rest of all my lifetimes showing you just how much you mean to me."

© midnightbears on tumblr, july 2024. please do not repost to another platform, plagiarize, translate, use for AI-related purposes or claim as your own.

[lovelypham]

ENHYPEN HYUNG LINE

prompt: how they react when you get jealous/insecure of them getting shipped with one of your group members by fans pairing:enha!hyung line X idol!fem!reader genre:fluff warnings: insecurities,self doubt,kissing,tad bit suggestive at hoon's part

hesseung (희승)

your relationship with Heeseung was one that was private, and that was due to crazy fans and the backlash you were more than sure you'd get if you ever decided to announce it

but as you kept scrolling through the comments under the video of your fellow member Karina,and your boyfriend doing the dance challenges for both of the groups comebacks you wished you could be able to risk it all and go public,but deep down you knew you'll only harm yourself and your image as well as heeseung's but both you and the fans couldn't help but notice how fit they were for eachother, how in sync they were, and how their visuals seemed flawless, perfect even

continue under the cut

you opened the comments once again

"they look so close to eachother, I bet they're dating"

"the way heeseung looks at karina in the bts video! omg i shipp🤭💓"

" karina is so classy,no wonder her and heeseung are dating they're so perfect for each other💓!!"

you knew that you shouldn't let these comments get to your head, but you couldn't help but feel insecure about your appearance, your dance, hell even the way you act!

you always knew that people preferred karina over you but it hurt so bad when your own managers who knew about your relationship decided to put the two people who have been getting shipped nonstop to do a dance challenge together, knowing extremely well that they'd spark dating rumors.

as if he read your mind, heeseung sent you a message saying

"hey baby, are you doing okay?"

even though it was a regular question he always asked it felt weirdly specific especially since you had texted him not too long ago.

you saw his icon pop up on your screen indicating an upcoming video call from him, you quickly wiped your almost dry tears and accepted the call

you saw heeseung's gorgeous face, and his sweet like honey smile appear on the little black rectangle that is your screen.

"hey heeseung" you began the conversation, he immediately knew something was up you never call him his full name unless something is making you upset

"hi baby,how are you doing" he trailed off,"I have seen better days" you mumbled "oh princess, is something bothering you? you know you can talk to me about anything right?" he suggested "yes hee I know I just don't want you to think that it's stupid" you hesitated " princess you know that's not true, I will never find anything you say stupid, now if you're comfortable then tell me what happened" he responded " I feel jealous" you whispered " m'sorry baby what did you say I didn't quite hear you" he softly replied

" I said I'm jealous"you replied with a slightly louder voice " jealous, of what baby, if you don't tell me I wouldn't know"he said,you let out a sigh before continuing

"I saw the video you did with karina and you guys look so perfect together, all the comments were shipping you with her, and I didn't want to tell you because I didn't wanna come off as insecure"you said with a slight shakiness in your voice, heeseung let out a sigh before softly replying "baby, I don't care how perfect fans think we look together, and how much they ship us, I see no one but you, I love you so much and I hope you know that, now do me a favor and stop looking at these comments I don't want you to worry your pretty little head, okay princess?" you squeaked back " I love you too heeseungie" with a slight smile on your face

jay (제이)

you loved it when jay and your members got along, it made you feel so happy seeing some of the most important people in your life interact freely with eachother without the cameras that seemed to follow you everywhere, engenes and fearnots knew about your relationship with jay and they had supported it since the very beginning always calling you the " it couple" or the " power couple"

but you didn't know how the sudden shipping of locals to yunjin and Jay happened, it made you feel weird knowing that non kpop fans had noticed the relation between your dear member and your bf, you weren't sure if it was the insecurities speaking but you noticed how similar they were , they had similar style, they listened to alot of mutual artists but you figured that was you impacting their taste in music

and lastly they both were mature and responsible.So when Jay came to your dorm with ni-ki and jake ,you took him into your room to talk to him, he looked confused 'cause you seemed fine speaking to him on the phone not too long ago. you both sat on your bed and he quickly took your hands in his once he saw you fiddling with them, a habit he noticed you did when you were nervous

the first thing you asked was "jay do you love me?" Jay furrowed his eyebrows and replied to you"of course baby I love you, why are you asking that?" you hesitated "uhmm I was just wondering you know?"you chuckled nervously you saw Jay put his serious face on and let out " are you sure princess, you never ask me that,tell me what's wrong" " nothing jay I told you" you said while slightly raising your voice as you took your hands out of his hold

" baby listen i know for sure it's not nothing okay? I want to be able to talk to you freely without making you feel uncomfortable so tell me what happened" you let out a sigh before looking up at him from your fiddling hands and told him "don't you think yunjin is a better fit for you? she's mature and older than me she takes responsibility of her actions meanwhile I'm just childish and everyone sees me as a baby no one ever takes me seriously and I'm never responsible"

jay softened his gaze and took your face in his hands "princess you know you're the perfect fit for me right? I feel in love with you since I first saw you at the HYBE carters games, I love you and I will never let you go okay, I don't care how childish people think you are but you'll always be my baby" he leaned closer and gave you a sweet and meaningful peck on your lips and he whispered to you" I love you" you put all your worries aside and replied" I love you more baby"

jake (제이크)

you were sitting in the makeup chair in your group's changing room when you overheard some of the staff gushing about how perfect Jake,and Belle , your member,were for eachother, pointing out there soft features that resembled those of an angel, you sighed loudly at their words that stung like a thorn in your heart, you knew that it was nearly impossible for you and Jake to reveal your relationship, but why where you so ready to risk it all and show the word that Jake was your man, the boy that you kiss and cuddle, well secretly of course

you knew your career would be on the edge if anyone were to find out, I mean you were newly debuted and Jake had a wide fanbase, but you couldn't help but feel helpless as you walked towards the inkigayo bathrooms looking for a distraction from the conversation you just heard,

you bumped into someone and who was it other than Jake himself ,he looked so handsome with his current outfit and you couldn't help but notice his puppy face light up when he saw you "baby, I was coming to get you" he said after double checking for any cameras or staffs "ahh really I thought you were still in your room niki told me earlier" you replied with a less excited tone "baby are you okay?, you look down" Jae trailed off "I'm fine just tired from the comeback" you gave him a small smile "aww baby don't worry it's our last day I'll treat you to dinner after this okay princess?" he said while holding your hands

"ok baby, uhmm I have to go now bye" you quickly removed your hands when you caught a glimpse of your group manager "okay bab-" he quieted down when you disappeared, Jake looked and felt confused you always tell him I love you when you say bye so why didn't you say it, "maybe it was because her manager came" jaeyun thought to himself

you had just finished your stage and enhypen were finished before you, you headed towards your changing room when you saw the same staff but this time they looked guilty, almost sulky? you were confused until you saw Belle coming your way and telling you that she came in to see the same two staff fan girling over her and Jake and she had told them that it was inappropriate to speak about such things during working hours especially infront of the idols themselves

she then hugged you and discreetly whispered in your ear "I already talked with jake about the matter and he told me you seemed off so now change your clothes, and go meet him in the parking lot okay?" she said and patted you on the back

you quickly ran towards the parking lot after you changed into your casual clothes, you spotted Jake waiting for you beside the company car while aimlessly scrolling on his phone

while panting you said to him "Jake, baby I'm really sorry I did that to yo-" he quickly shut you up by connecting your lips together and caressing your waist with one hand and holding your chin upwards with another he tilted your head to deepen the kiss and then pulled away with his forehead on yours "I love you so much baby" I love you too Jaeyun" you replied, breathless.

sunghoon (성훈)

you and everyone knew how perfect sunghoon and wonyoung were for eachother from their icy visuals to their classy vibe, but wonyoung was your member whom you loved so much and you never even once were jealous of their relationship knowing fairly well it was fan service and nothing more

but why did it feel bittersweet to see your bf and wonnie receiving best couple award at KBS when you stood at the side staring at them with a fake smile on your face, you let your insecurities take over you and that little voice in your head was telling you that wonyoung was better, she was prettier, more elegant, she was cute, she was funny, she always captivated people with her visuals,and that she was better than you at everything!

you couldn't handle the stares filled with pity from your members, leeseo came to your side and hugged you while you were going backstage and patted your shoulder, you then felt two very familiar muscular arms holding your waist and preventing you from going any further, you sighed and turned around to see sunghoon with his pretty little mole and pale skin he grabbed you towards a more secluded area and neared you towards him

he reached down to you level and kissed your lips, you took a moment to kiss him back but you eventually did so ,he then pulled away "baby ik you might be jealous of what just happened but I promise you your my one and only, I'll choose you again and again in every universe, you're so pretty, my girl" he said while pecking your lips again you couldn't help the smile that crept up on your face you slapped his muscular chest jokingly " I was supposed to be mad at you"you said while pouting at him

he chuckled teasingly and kissed you again but this time it was more heated, he took your face in his hands and brought his closer, you moaned at the feeling and you felt his tongue on yours,you both were fighting for dominance until you heard a gasp followed by a familiar voice that belonged to wonyoung saying "aigoo what did I do to see this ,whatever, _____ when you're done eating your boyfriend's face please come here we need to head back to our dorm" you looked up at sunghoon and said" I love you hoonie byee! "

" I love you too princess, make sure to call me when you arrive okay?" " yes hoonie mwah" you said while blowing a kiss he shook his head with a stupid smile on his face " aish this girl"

(a/n: haven't posted a fic in ages sorry,the jake and sunghoon parts are heavily inspired by didi aka @/enmi-land I miss didi :(( )

[astermath]

hiya! i’m a really big fan of your stranger things work and I was wondering, if youre comfortable of course, a steve x reader period imagine where reader tried to hide their period from Steve, but he finds out and is super fluffy and sweet about it? thank you!

HAHAH wow i have let this ask stew in my inbox since last year thats CRAZY im so sorry my dear,, i was going through old asks and i rlly like this prompt actually so here u go, i hope u enjoy!!!!

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

tags: established relationship, obv mentions of periods / menstruation, reader is referred to as female, steve being dense at first lol, regular sized font below!

wc: 1.4K

notes: while the reader in this fic is female, i am well aware not everyone who has a period is a girl, and not everyone who's a girl has a period!

Steve is one attentive boyfriend.

It’s the early stages of your relationship, the golden era, the honeymoon phase. And while you’re a still a bit nervous about it all, you couldn’t be happier, because he does it all right.

He knows your favourite snacks, what music you like, what makes you laugh, what makes you cry. He’s starting to figure out your ins and outs, and it’s almost crazy how quickly he’s catching on. You have no reason to feel judged by him at any point, he truly is comfort poured into the shape of a person.

So then why are you staring at your phone right now, struggling to dial his number and just tell him why you can’t make it to your date?

It’s not usually this bad, at least it hadn’t been for a while, so why now, of all moments, must you be forsaken to be terrorised by your period?

You bite your lip, laying flat onto your bed, hand over your lower stomach. It's right where the pain is just gnawing at you, just like the guilt is. But you know you’d feel even guiltier if you just stood him up, he doesn’t deserve that. You sit up, a tad slowly to save yourself from another cramp, and swallow your nerves for now.

“I’ll just… Tell him I’m sick. Yeah… Yeah I can do that.” You think to yourself.

The combination of his number had started to feel natural to your fingers now, unlike how anxiously you pressed the buttons the first time, triple checking before finally pressing call. You're triple checking again now, more so because you're not sure you can handle hearing the defeat in his voice when you tell him you can't make it.

The phone barely gets a moment to ring before he picks it up, and his all too familiar sweet voice comes through the device.

"Hey babe, everything okay over there?"

You pause a moment before replying. "How did you know it was me calling?"

"Lover's intuition." He chuckles, and it makes your heart flutter. It's not fair how easy it is for him to do that to you, but you enjoy it nonetheless. "So, what's going on?"

"I, uh..." God, getting the words out is like pulling teeth. But you'd rather die than let him think you just got cold feet about your movie date. "I'm really not feeling too well right now, Steve... I'm-- I'm so sorry, I'm gonna have to cancel for tonight." Your eyes are welling up with tears before he even gets a chance to reply, just imagining his pretty face losing its bright expression when hearing your unfortunate news.

"Oh," damnit, he does sound sad, "that's okay, uhm... Is there anything I can do? What kinda sick is it?"

Shit, he's gonna make you say it, isn't he? You know Steve is a mature guy, he knows about periods, knows how they work, but you've been told to suck it up and get on with it before... A part of you is still disappointed that you just can't.

"U-Uhm... It's more like, a stomach thing, I guess?" It's the best way you can put it for now, hoping it'll put his worries to rest.

"Okay, I see..." You can nearly hear him thinking, the subtle noise of bags being moved and a fridge being opened coming through the phone. "Uh, how aboouuut... I come over to yours, and we just watch a movie at home? I still got a couple of tapes we haven't gotten to, and I can bring some light snacks that won't upset your stomach too much."

The thought of Steve caring for you while you're sick sends a warm feeling through your entire body. God, how does he just keep getting better? But you can't lie to him, right? It's not like you're really sick, unless you count the curse of menstruation as a symptom.

Before you get a chance to explain, he's talking again, and by the ruckus in the background you can only guess he's rushing to grab all his stuff. "I'll be heading out in a bit, I'll stop by the corner store too, stay put for me alright? See ya in a bit!"

You're sure he didn't realize he wasn't letting you talk, but frankly, you probably couldn't even come up with a response on time anyways. Right now, you just have to worry about looking somewhat presentable, and maybe figure out a way to tell him you're not actually sick.

By the time you've brushed your hair and brushed some mascara onto your lashes, you're already hearing the doorbell. You just manage to pull a fresh shirt over your head, before stumbling down the stairs and stopping in front of the door. With a deep, loaded, sigh you open it, to reveal your boyfriend.

Hair messed up, plastic bag in hand, jacket haphazardly thrown on. He clearly rushed to be here, still panting a little, but in your eyes, he's the image of your guardian angel, your saviour in need.

Before either of you know it, you're crying again, your freshly applied mascara now leaving thin black streaks over your cheeks. Your hands go up to cover your face, embarrassed, not even sure why you're sobbing all of a sudden. The feelings just hit you like a freight train, rocking you before you even have a time to rationalize.

Steve's expression falters, the bag he had in hand dropping to the floor in an instant, stepping in closer so he can carefully wrap his arms around you and pull you to his chest. Not too tight, he doesn't want to startle you. He's a bit distraught; he's really only seen you cry at a sad movie scene before, so he's a bit unsure as to what's caught you to be so upset right now.

"I-I'm sorry..." you manage to mutter through your incoherent sobs and sniffs, effectively ruining the front of his shirt in the process.

"Hey, hey..." His big hands go up to your face, gently cupping your wettened cheeks as he looks into your teary eyes. Hell, the image of you is almost enough to make him break too. "What're you sorry for? You can't help it that you're sick, right?"

The reminder of your lie makes you want to break eye contact in shame, but it's hard to force yourself to lose sight of that soft, caring gaze of his.

"I," sniff, "I lied, I'm so sorry Steve, I-- I'm not sick, I just... I have..."

He watches you expectedly, not upset, just curious. You'd surely have your reasons if whatever caused you to cancel is making you this upset.

"I'm... I'm just on my period and it-- it hurts really bad, it's not even usually this bad, and I felt like I was overreacting and I feel so bad and--" Your ramble gets cut short by his chuckle, the same one that nearly caused you to melt over the phone earlier.

"W-Wha... Why are you laughing?" You're not sure if you should be happy or worried, you're already experiencing so much at once, it's hard to pick one emotion to feel.

"Nothing, it's just, well," he picks up the bag he dropped, opening it slightly to show the bars of chocolate, candy and your favorite chips inside. "I had a feeling."

The sight of it makes you snap out of your state of distress, and you can’t help but crack a smile through your tears. “Seriously? How?”

He shrugs, a sheepish smile adorning his face. “I told you, lover’s intuition.” He pulls you back to him and kisses your head. “There’s another bag in the car with chicken soup in case I was wrong.”

You both laugh, just hugging on your doorstep for a moment. You have to let it sink in, that maybe Steve just is that sweet and considerate of a guy.

“D’you wanna go inside, or does standing outside help with cramps?” He pulls back a little, and you fight the urge to poke him in the ribs for his sarcasm. You love it either way.

“Yeah, let’s go inside. We can watch When Harry Met Sally and I can cry my eyes out again. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.”

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[bleachification]

⸻ JEALOUS, JEALOUS BOY

pairing: sanji x reader

word count: 5.7k

synopsis: life as a pirate is never boring, especially when your best friend is sanji—a flirtatious chef who can’t seem to sort out his feelings, or yours, for that matter. that makes things all the more complicated when you’re forced to go undercover and sanji is dragged along with you as your very fake husband. the million-dollar question is: when lines start blurring, how do you differentiate between what’s fake and what’s real?

+ + + + + + + + + + + + +

“We broke up.”

“How long? Two months?”

You shrug. “I stopped counting anniversaries after the first couple of failed ones.”

Sanji swings his knife a tad too forcefully. The loud THUD of it smashing into the cutting board causes you to jump. You peer over the counter and grimace at the sight.

“God, what did that poor tuna ever do to you?”

Sanji continues slicing into the red flesh, more aggressively than before, but still with the same care and precision that he affords every ingredient he touches.

“Why?”

“Why what?” You lift your gaze to his face, smiling softly at the concentration twisting his features. It’s one of the things you admire greatly about Sanji—the sheer dedication and love he has for his craft.

“Why did you break up with him?” Sanji repeats. He’s chopping up a variety of garnish now. Again, with more aggression than necessary.

You raise a brow, but decide not to comment on it.

“What makes you think I was the one who called it quits?”

He sets the knife down and turns to you, blonde bangs falling across his face. Sanji flashes you his signature flirtatious smile, but there’s a strange hint of tension attached to it.

“Who would ever think to break up with you?” He leans in, gaze darkening. “They would have to be crazy.”

You pull back, rolling your eyes. He’s always like this. Coy. Intimate. The ultimate womanizer. Sometimes… you wish it could be different.

“Well, he must have been crazy then.”

“What?” Sanji pauses, confusion etches his expression. “You… wait… he broke up with you?!”

“Don’t sound so surprised. He only beat me to it by a week. I had the decency to try and wait until after Valentines,” you note. You aren’t particularly broken up about the whole thing. Your ex is barely an ex—a summer fling, if anything. But Sanji, on the other hand, is acting as if some horrible crime has been committed.

“I’ll kill him.”

You blink. “Okay. A bit of an overreaction.”

“How dare he…” Sanji mumbles, not hearing you. His hand tightly grips the knife handle, and you swear the temperature just dropped even in the presence of boiling pots and simmering roux.

“Alright, enough. Don’t be so dramatic,” you laugh, moving to gently pry his fingers from their iron grip on the handle. He lets you—watching as you take the blade from him, and relishing in the soft feel of your skin against his. He itches to grab your hand and pull you closer. But he doesn’t. He won’t.

He can’t.

Sanji learned very quickly that his charms and gimmicks weren’t going to work on you. In all fairness, they rarely do, but for some unfathomable reason, he can’t seem to let that particular rejection go. He will always resent that part of him for pushing you away and drawing that boundary—a line you both delicately toe, never to cross over to each other’s side.

Your first meeting was… disastrous, to say the least. Sanji had just met the crew, and was tripping over himself to impress Nami, when you had made your way back to the others after a quick break in the powder room.

You had witnessed all of his shameless flirting and blatant promiscuity on your way back. You immediately took a strong dislike to the blonde chef, his behaviour reminiscent of exes that were none too pleasant.

“I’m back.”

At the sound of your voice, Sanji beamed, turning to strike up another flowery bombardment of compliments and flattery… only to freeze in place when he saw you.

For once, his silver tongue lacked its luster, fumbling before the sight of you.

For once, he knew not what to say or do. He could only stare. Only admire and behold.

“Good job. You broke the chef,” Zoro deadpanned.

You pulled an expression of slight concern and mild annoyance.

“Um… are you alright?” You waved a hand across Sanji’s face. No reaction. The rest of the crew barely paid him any mind, too busy either eating, drinking… or arguing, in Nami and Zoro’s case.

You slipped into the booth next to Zoro, choosing to ignore the bizarre situation, when a deep, rumbling voice belonging to a peg-legged old man boomed from across Baratie.

“SANJI!”

It snapped Sanji out of his stupor, grounding him back into reality.

“Marry me.”

But perhaps not logic.

“What?”

Zoro pulled a face of disgust eerily similar to your own. Somewhere in the background, you vaguely heard Ussop choking on his drink. Nami clapped thunderously on his back. Is she trying to help him or kill him?

Luffy, through all of this, watched with bright, curious eyes.

“Yuuummphh fuu’yyy,” exclaimed Luffy, his mouth full of bread, gravy, and what you can only assume is a whole ribeye steak.

Zoro turned his disgust toward the captain. “Are you kidding?”

Luffy scarfed down another forkful of food, grinning wide as he swallowed the last of his meal. He patted his stomach, content, before turning his attention back to Sanji.

“You’re funny!” He laughed.

“That’s what you were trying to say?!”

Luffy ignored Zoro’s exasperation and just giggled in his usual carefree manner. Sanji ignored them all, choosing only you to spare his attention. You shifted uncomfortably, tension coursing through your veins at the way he watched you. As if you were the greatest treasure in all of the Four Seas and he was the king of the pirates—a man would do anything to covet it. Covet you.

Zoro and Luffy didn’t seem to grasp the situation as they continued to bicker in the background.

“Boys. Stop… FIGHTING!” Nami barked out. A swift smack from the ginger settled them both down, each sulking in a corner as she berated them for their behaviour.

You took a deep breath, willing your nerves to calm. You met Sanji’s eyes and they shone with hope.

“You want me to marry you?”

“Yes. Desperately,” he breathed out.

If heart eyes were real, they would beat within the passion of his gaze. Strong. Intense. Unabashed. You despised it. How could he look at you in that way after mere moments of greetings? It was lust. Nothing less, and certainly nothing more.

“SANJI, GET YOUR ASS BACK IN HERE!”

Sanji clenched his jaw at the voice, frustration and irritation barely contained. His expression smoothed over as he spoke to you.

“Think it over?”

You raise a brow. “What? The proposal?”

“Precisely that,” he smiled. Gorgeous asshole.

“Over my dead body,” you scoffed. Your rejection didn’t seem to deter him though, the grin on his face still present even as he left for the kitchen.

So many sleepless nights later and Sanji still can’t help but sigh whenever he remembers that day. He wishes he could take back his words, his actions… his everything. Maybe you would love him back if he did. Maybe you wouldn’t be dating morons who don’t even come close to deserving you—not that he does, but he would try.

For you, he would try it all.

Your soft voice breaks him out of his trip down memory lane.

“Seriously, it’s not a big deal,” you reassure.

Sanji wants to shout, But it is! Don’t you get that? How could losing you not be a big deal?

Instead, he shakes his head and takes a long draw from his cigarette. He watches the clouds waft up in lazy rings, circle around your head, and disintegrate into the kitchen heat. Sanji finds it increasingly difficult to meet your eyes.

“Are you alright, love?”

His genuine concern for you makes you smile. “I’m alright, Sanji. I wasn’t that attached, anyway.”

That twinkle in his eyes. It's back again.

“Really? Then what about my initial offer?” he jokes. Though it doesn’t sound like a joke to him. Doesn’t feel like one either.

“What are you talking about?” You ask. You take a spoonful of the broth and bring it to your lips, ignorant of the tense atmosphere. At least until the magnitude of Sanji’s next words drops.

“You know… marrying me.” Sanji holds his breath.

Shit. Why did I say that? He thinks, regretfully.

You falter, the spoon quickly forgotten in the pot. Your appetite disappears just as swiftly.

“Everytime I think we’re having a nice, serious conversation, you just have to go and… say something like that. Aren’t you bored of it? Tired of all the false promises and sweet talk?” You shake your head and stand up to leave.

“[Name], I–”

You cut him off. “I’m disappointed, Sanji.”

“Please, just hear–”

The kitchen door bursts open to show Usopp, who hurriedly beckons you both outside.

“Crew meeting, come on!”

Sanji turns to you, about to say something else, but you ignore him and follow Usopp out into the hallway and up to the deck. Sanji has no choice but to do the same.

Winter has arrived in the form of early nights and fresh snowfall—as if the chilling temperature itself isn’t enough of an indicator. Your breath crystallizes in the air as the three of you venture outside to where you meet the rest of the crew.

Nami has a large sheet of parchment spread flat across the floor with each member of the crew positioned around it in a wide circle. Upon closer inspection, you realize it isn’t one of her usual cartographic maps. It’s a blueprint. And the subject of it… is a castle?

“Nami, what is this?” You ask as you take a seat next to her.

With a pen, she circles a small room located in the eastern wing of the building’s upper level. It sits above a sprawling space. A ballroom, you wager. The schematics look complicated enough.

Nami begins to explain. “This is a blueprint of Ceres Palace, a high-security manor sitting atop the nearest port city. It is home to a powerful noble family…”

She flips the paper over. “…and this.”

A mass of glimmering golden ink shines under the moonlight, every meticulously painted stroke deliberate and delicate. The image is clear.

“Is that a devil fruit?” Robin inquires, eyes narrowing.

“One crafted from solid gold and pure diamond dust, gilded with sea jadeite. It is the most monetarily valuable ‘devil fruit’ in the world, depending on who you ask,” Nami answers. She flips the parchment again. “And we are going to steal it.”

“Wait a damn minu-“

“Hold on-“

“Are we sure that’s-“

A chorus of protests and concerns rise from the rest of the crew, and for good reason. From just a first glance of the palace grounds, you can tell this will be a risky heist, and something in your gut tells you that there’s more to it.

Nami shuts them all up with a pointed glare.

“Do you realize how long I spent drawing up this stupid thing?! One more word from any of you and I will shove it down your throat. Whole,” she threatens.

No one speaks.

“Good. Now, as I was saying, this heist will consist of two parts. The actual theft and the distraction.”

Sanji raises his hand. Nami points at him and nods.

“Why, exactly, are we stealing someone’s gold…er…artifact? I get that we’re pirates but… a bit out of the way, isn’t it?”

Nami, Ussop, and Chopper sigh in unison. The latter ambles your way and climbs into your lap, snuggling for warmth.

“Hello baby,” you murmur. You smile softly as the little reindeer tucks himself into your welcome embrace. You give Chopper a scratch under the chin before turning your attention back to the conversation at hand.

Zoro barely pays any attention, head bobbing a bit. He’s already falling asleep. Typical. Robin, on the other hand, seems to recognize the object.

“I’ve heard of this. Its original name was The Monarch’s Heart. It belonged to the royal family of that island. Twenty years ago, the king’s most trusted advisor spearheaded a coup d’état and a violent rebellion broke out, ending with the execution of the royal family, as well as the usurpation of the former, now exiled, king.” Robin crouches and lightly brushes the blueprint, tracing along its curves. “All this time, the Heart was believed to have been lost amidst war. You’re saying one of the nobles stole it?”

Nami scratches her head and grimaces. “Well, yeah, kinda.”

“What do you mean, ‘kinda’”? You ask.

“We don’t have any proof. Not really,” she shrugs.

“So, again, why are we doing this?” Sanji reiterates.

“We have proof!” Luffy grins. Your captain finally speaks up, too preoccupied with messing with a sleeping Zoro moments ago.

“Luffy—” Nami starts.

“What? I believe the old man. He’s a good guy.” Luffy pats his stomach. “He fed me.”

“What old man?” You’re getting more and more confused as the meeting drags on.

“Luffy. You met the exiled king, didn’t you?” Robin’s eyes twinkle with curiosity.

“Um… I don’t know? I forgot his name but he was nice. Told me about how his stuff got stolen unfairly so I promised to get it back for him.”

“So you don’t even know if he’s telling the truth? What if he was the bad guy, and the nobles who took over overthrew a tyrant?” Sanji blows smoke from his cigarette as he prods.

“He was not,” Robin states factually. “The king was known to be kind and benevolent, catering only to the needs of his people. Since that nation's birth, the royal faction was always at odds with the avaricious nobility. That tension came to a head in the form of a brutal uprising. Though massacre is much more fitting of a description for what occurred.”

“Mhm, mhm, mhm.” Luffy nods vigorously at her words. “So we’re gonna get his gold back for him.”

“Liberating another nation, are we?” Zoro yawns, barely waking up.

“Seems like it,” Nami sighs.

“It’s what the captain wants,” Robin smiles.

“And what Luffy wants…” you begin.

Everyone else groans.

“Luffy gets.”

“So…” Sanji shifts next to you. Closer. His warmth clouds your senses a little and you try to ignore the dizzying effect it has on you. “How do we do this, exactly?”

“I bust down the door and slice ‘em up,” Zoro offers.

“In your dreams, Mosshead. I could take down—”

You pinch his side. Sanji jumps and turns to you, a slight pout on his face. Despite what happened earlier, you find yourself trying not to laugh.

“You’re not doing that, Zoro,” Chopper scolds.

The swordsman tsks. “Fine. Then how the hell are we actually pulling this off?”

Nami explains the plan.

Sanji turns white.

Your mouth drops open. “Excuse me?!”

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . 　

“Oh god, I’m going to throw up.”

Robin chuckles as she hands you silken gloves. “Don’t worry. You’ll do just fine. Remember, get in, pull the alarm, get out.”

“Easier said than done,” you grumble.

The plan is actually much more complex than what Robin makes it out to be.

The palace itself has two separate alarm systems—one for the vault, and another in case of fire. If both are activated at the same exact moment, they cause a complete system break, and the fire alarm overrides the theft security, forcing an evacuation with everyone none the wiser.

The plan is for you and Sanji to infiltrate the party under the pretense of a foreign dignitary and his spouse, survey and locate the alarm, cause a distraction, and pull the alarm the precise moment Nami unlocks the vault. All communicated via Den Den Mushi earpieces.

Easy peasy.

Your clothing sticks to you uncomfortably—tight in areas you don’t normally expose to the world. The scented oil in your hair makes you smell like you had just popped fresh out of the oven. A layered film of glittering makeup rests on your features, rendering the person in the mirror a complete, hapless stranger.

“Why did it have to be me?”

And Sanji?

You don’t voice that last bit.

“Nami’s the thief, the other boys would blow their covers immediately, I have other matters to attend to, and Chopper… Well, Chopper’s a reindeer.”

You run a hand through your hair. Anxiety claws at your skin. You feel a sudden urge to feign illness and rid yourself of this ridiculous plan.

“Must we pose as a couple? Surely there are other ways,” you implore.

“The invites we swiped were from married nobles,” Robin reminds.

You groan. Robin pats your shoulder supportively.

“There there. Don’t fret, you’ll do fine. Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Robin gives you another encouraging pat before she ushers you out of the dressing room.

You make your way outside, shivering slightly as the winter winds bite into your skin. The thin fabric of your garments do nothing to shield the cold.

Someone lets out a sharp inhale. You turn towards the noise. Sanji stands to your left, clutching an envelope in hand. His usual suave demeanour is displaced by an air of buzzing anxiety and a starstruck expression.

He’s dressed in a sleek three-piece black suit. It pains you how devastatingly handsome he looks.

“You clean up nice,” you note.

“I…uh. You—Sorry, yeah, what?” Sanji replies, all smooth and intelligent.

“…Pardon?”

Robin watches the entire interaction with a pained grimace. Having enough, she steps up and gently steers you towards Sanji.

“Hurry up, now. They’re expecting you both soon. Don’t forget to stay in character, lest you end up blowing your covers.” She winks at you both, but you can’t help but think it was directed more towards Sanji.

“Shall we?”

Seemingly recovered from whatever alien had possessed him seconds ago, the chef offers you his arm with a small smile. You place your hand around his bicep and try to ignore his rippling muscles underneath your fingertips.

“Color me surprised. I really thought you’d have showered me with compliments by now,” you joke.

“I thought you didn’t like that part of me.”

Disappointment blooms in your chest.

“Right. I don’t. I just…” you trail off. You just thought you looked nice tonight. And maybe a small part of you was hoping he felt the same.

“Never mind.”

You slip your hand out of the crook of Sanji’s arm and start walking a little bit faster, hoping he doesn’t notice the conflicting emotions on your face.

When Sanji first joined the crew, you made yourself a promise: that you would never fall for his charms. But as time went on and he showed you a mountain of kindness, understanding, and empathy… that promise, steadily, became much harder to keep and much easier to forget. It wasn’t his flirting and charms that were dangerous—it was the man buried underneath all that playful pretense. A man who has stubbornly found his way into your guarded heart, despite your best efforts of keeping him out.

It was always easier that way. Easier to turn away, to shut him out. Easier to walk away when you catch him with others who drew his interest and to stop listening as he murmurs sweet nothings in their ears—the very ones he had whispered to you. It was easier to accept that you are not, and will not, be special to him.

You refuse to be just another mark in his book of conquests, and if all it takes is a silent heartbreak to avoid such a fate, so be it. You’ve survived much worse before.

The palace soon comes into view, a grand structure that stretches into the vertical horizon. The path towards the marbled entrance is busy with bustling guests and the glowing orbs of rainbow fireflies. You steadily, and as elegantly as possible, make your way towards the host out in front.

“Good evening, may I see your invitations for the night?” He asks, gloved hand outstretched in expectation.

Sanji flashes him a million-berry smile. “Of course, my good sir. I have them right here.”

He pulls out the envelope you had seen earlier from inside his black suit jacket. The greeter accepts the documents and diligently scans them. After a few seconds, he nods, satisfied by what he sees, and hands the papers back to Sanji.

“Enjoy your night.” He moves aside to let you pass and holds an arm out, guiding you both through the white stone doors.

As soon as you step through the entrance , you are greeted by a foyer fit for kings. A cascading staircase blanketed by red velvet leads to even larger double doors, both white like the walls, but trimmed with gold linings and spiral handles. A crystal chandelier, bigger than you ever thought possible, hangs from the ceiling. It casts shining diamonds in every reflection of the room.

Sanji holds out his arm for you again as you both prepare to execute the mission, but you don’t immediately go to take it. Sanji must sense your hesitation because he sighs and gives you a strained, yet still affectionate smile.

“[Name], please. If not for me, then for appearances. We’re married, remember?”

“Fake married,” you correct, although you relent and slip your hand in the crook of his elbow anyway.

“You don’t have to remind me.”

Arm in arm, Sanji leads you to the ballroom. The doors open to reveal hundreds of nobles draped in silk and pearls, dining on delicacies, and mingling with others of their same social echelon. You already want to go home.

You both find a small table tucked into a corner and stand around it.

“We have to wait until Nami gives us the signal. First, let’s blend in and make sure to look like we belong,” you whisper.

Sanji leans in to hear you better. “What do you suggest? We could hit the banquet table, the food doesn’t look half bad.”

You peer over his shoulder at the platters of hor d'oeuvres and fancy desserts. “They don’t look nearly as good as what you make.”

“Was that a compliment?” Sanji grins.

“Don’t get used to it. Your heads already far too big,” you smirk.

“I don’t have that much of an ego,” he grumbles, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve.

“Hey, don’t do that.” You gently swat at his hand, admonishing him for trying to pull the string out.

“Why? It’s annoying.”

“Yeah, but you’ll ruin it even more if you just yank at it. Hold on.” You pluck a small oyster shucker from a passing waitress’s pocket, with her none the wiser. With the knife, you smoothly cut away the thread and flick it into a bin behind you.

Sanji stares at you in awe. “Did you just pickpocket the…”

“Not a word.”

“Got it.”

“Anyway, we don’t want to ruin these clothes. They’re borrowed. And so much nicer than what we’re used to.”

You pull at your collar to adjust it, only to realize Sanji is staring at you again, but with a different glint in his eyes. One with more… heat. It is only now that you realize how close you are to him—pressed up against his side, thigh-to-thigh and shoulder-to-shoulder, as you both converse away from the crowd. Sanji exudes warmth that, mixed with your own cluttered feelings, makes you a bit dizzy. You take a step back. Sanji’s gaze never leaves you.

“Did I tell you earlier how good you look?”

You swallow. “No.”

He steps closer, closing the gap again. “You look good. Really, really good.”

“Thanks. Formal clothing does wonders.” Your laugh comes out more nervous than you intended.

“Unbelievably good,” he murmurs, almost to himself—like he can’t believe what’s right in front of him.

“Sanji–”

A screeching violin note interrupts you and the strange moment you both got caught up in. Sanji snaps back to his usual self and quickly shakes his head, as if clearing away a fog.

“Food,” he coughs.

You blink. “Right. Food.”

“I’m gonna…” Sanji motions towards the buffet.

You’ve never seen him this… awkward. You’re not sure what to make of it.

“Yeah. Go ahead. I’m gonna scope out the place and figure out where the alarm is.”

He stiffly nods, then makes his way across the ballroom. You turn heel and begin walking along the corridors, scanning for anything that may resemble an alarm.

A static noise crackles in your right ear.

“Can…I—“

A sudden spike of sharp feedback makes you wince.

“Sorry! Can you hear me?” Nami’s voice pipes up.

“Yes. Comms are working. What am I looking for, Nami?”

“Something resembling a button, maybe? Look for a red button or something along those lines.”

“Understood..”

After about ten minutes of searching, you finally come upon it, a small red lever nestled in a corner behind the bar, protected by a square glass casing.

You spot Sanji across the room, mid-conversation with a beautiful, young noble. Your chest twinges, but you push the feeling away. His eyes flit to yours and you subtly wave him over, gesturing to the alarm handle.

Sanji excuses himself and briskly makes his way to you.

“You found it?”

“Of course. It’s the whole reason we’re here, remember?” You ignore the lump in your throat.

“Sorry, I got distracted. I didn’t think—”

“It’s fine, Sanji. You were having fun. You don’t have to apologize. Did you get her number at least?” You try and coolly play it off.

His eyebrows knit together. “No. No, I—”

“Anyway, we should figure out how to distract the bartender. He’s the only one who is in the way.”

If Sanji notices your blatant attempt at changing the subject, he doesn’t show it.

“Sure. Any ideas, beautiful?”

“One.”

“What’s the plan?”

You fidget with your sleeve. “He’s been eyeing me all night.”

Sanji makes a disapproving noise. “...I noticed.”

“I’ll distract him. You get the alarm,” you shrug.

Sanji’s eyes narrow. “How, exactly, are you going to do that?”

“C’mon, Sanji, you can’t be that dense. I’m going to seduce him.”

His reply is immediate and final. “No.”

You balk at his flat tone. “What do you mean: no?”

“No. As in opposite of yes. As in absolutely not,” he hisses.

“Sanji. I have t-”

“No as in not okay!”

You place a hand over his mouth in an effort to stop his outburst. “Shhh! Stop that. Are you trying to draw attention to us?!”

He pulls your arm away, undeterred by your growing panic of being found out. “If it’ll get you to reconsider, then yes!”

“Sanji, enough. What is wrong with you? Why are you so worked up?”

“Do you seriously have to ask that?” He cries out, exasperated.

You open your mouth to retort, but Nami’s voice interrupts you.

“Sorry to break up whatever dumb fight this is, but I need someone to pull the alarm in exactly 60 seconds.”

You give Sanji an expectant look. He firmly shakes his head.

“Not happening.”

Before you can stop him, the chef makes his way to the bar, stumbling as if drunk. Before you know what’s happening, Sanji pulls a whiskey bottle from behind the bar, much to the bartender's protests and dismay. He takes a large swig, and you blow out a breath of relief when he sets it down.

Then he picks it back up again. You watch in horror as he lifts the bottle up and… accidentally pours the entire thing onto the champagne tower beside him. The glasses overflow, and the weight of the extra liquid becomes too much. One by one, the glasses come tumbling down in a landslide of alcohol and crystal.

The bartender cries out in distress. Sanji is unapologetic.

You run to the alarm amidst the mess.

“Ready, [name]?”

“Whenever you are, Nami.”

She begins counting down and the moment you hear: Now!, you pull the handle.

All hell breaks loose.

Blaring alarms ring out, drowning out every other possible sound. Sprinklers sprout from the ceiling and rain down on the partygoers, soaking them and the luxury furniture. Hundreds of panicked patrons scramble to leave, directed by equally flustered staff.

You feel a tug on your sleeve. It’s Sanji.

He tries saying something but is drowned out by the chaos around you. Frustrated, he beckons you over and motions for you to follow him.

After a couple minutes of navigating through screaming nobility, you end up on a secluded balcony away from all the activity. The alarms are barely louder than bells on this end of the palace.

You take a second to catch your breath. Both of you are drenched to the bone, and the chilly winter air does nothing to help your chattering teeth.

Sanji notices your shivering form and immediately drapes his jacket over your shoulders.

You smile gratefully at him, but falter when you see the frown on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Take it out.”

You blink. “What?”

“The earpiece. Take it out,” he says, impatient.

“Why?”

Sanji runs a hand through his hair in both irritation and anxiousness. “Because I’m going to confess my love for you and I don’t want everyone to hear it. They’d never let me live it down, especially that green-haired freak.”

You freeze. Your thoughts freeze. Every fucking thing stops dead in it’s tracks, including your heart.

“Sanji, this isn’t funny.” Your voice trembles.

“Baby, take the earpiece out. Let me talk to you,” he asks softly.

You don’t say anything, you don’t trust yourself to. With shaking hands, you take the Den Den Mushi out and turn it off.

It is only you and Sanji now.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you echo.

“[Name].”

God, why does he have to say your name in that way? Like it means something more than friends—like it’s worth its weight in both diamonds and gold.

“This still isn’t funny.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not joking,” he says, tone as serious as you’ve ever heard it.

You sigh. “What are we doing, Sanji?”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m trying to confess my undying love to my favourite person in the world. It’s scary.”

“You say that—”

“I mean it,” he interjects.

“What makes me different? What makes me…”

Worthy of your love?

Sanji reaches for you, but stops himself at your expression. You continue questioning his words.

“How do I know this isn’t just some temporary thing? A fleeting crush?” You swallow hard. For some reason, you’re unable to meet his steady gaze. “How do I know this is real?”

He rubs the back of his neck, conflicting emotions flickering across his face. Sanji struggles to find the words needed to convince you. He tries his best, anyway.

“I know what my reputation is like. I know the personality I present to the world. But after I met you, none of it seemed worth it anymore. There was no appeal to living that type of life,” he pauses. Sanji lifts his head and stares straight at you, unwavering in his words. “The moment I saw you, I thought I’d die if I couldn’t be yours. I still think that now.”

Oh. Your chest is trying to kill you. That’s the only explanation for the ache you feel.

“I trust you with my life, Sanji. But not my heart.”

The alarms have stopped by now. Soon, people will come trickling back inside and the mission will be over. This moment in time will soon fade into the background of reality.

“I only ask that you give me a chance.”

“What makes you so sure that you’re the kind of guy I want to be with?”

“As opposed to your exes? Those guys—none of them deserved you,” he scoffs, annoyed at the mere mention of them.

You raise a brow. “Do you?”

“No. Of course not,” he answers. “But I want to try. Please, god, let me try.”

Your hands are still shaking, but not from the cold.

“We should get back to the ship,” you say, a strained smile on your face.

Sanji’s face falls at your deflection, but he accepts it and doesn’t push. He nods, and you both make your way back to the Merry, an uncomfortable silence hanging over you like a wet blanket.

You are only a couple hundred meters out from the ship when you stop abruptly. Sanji almost crashes into you, but steadies himself at the last second.

“Is something wrong?” He asks in concern.

Before you can lose your nerve, you whirl around and utter two words: “One date.”

It takes Sanji a few moments to understand what you just said, but when he does, he lights up like a kid on Christmas Eve. One who just met Santa. The sheer joy on his face makes it all worth it.

“You’re not messing with me, right? Please say no,” he shakily pleads.

You shake your head. “One. Make it count.”

Instead of answering, he throws his arms around you, wrapping you in his warm embrace.

You loop your arms around his neck and he melts into you, never wanting to let go.

“I’ll make you say yes to a second one. And then a third. And then a lifetime of dates after that. I swear it on my honour as a chef.”

“It’ll have to be a pretty damn good date then,” you laugh.

Sanji presses his forehead on yours.

“It’ll be the best date.”

“And how do you know that?” You tease.

“Because you will be there.”

—

˚ · . tags: @zjarrmiii @aiizenn @emyyy007

[hatsunemitskislobotomy]

˚◞♡ ⃗ ❝ 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙢𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙢𝙚 ❞* ೃ༄

↳ ♡₊˚. ❝ ¡love and deepspace sorta kinda spicy! eluding headcanons lolz! ❞

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

something about those boys and ripping pantyhose’s… sigh

sure it’s attractive, quite attractive actually but more often than not the boys seem to miss the mark as to why you’re wearing them (and why it’s not okay to suddenly come back not wearing them) until one day you overhear tara and some of your other female colleagues discussing a durable pair of pantyhose’s perfect for the summertime where the typical deepspace hunter pants tend to be a little bit on the heavier side.

however your interest was piqued either way— might as well do the girls a favor and test how really durable they are

xavier

you two are so in sync with once another, gentle touches and heightened breathing— your reactions from each other drove each other crazy, it was perfect

which is why he looked like a kicked puppy when he realizes that the pantyhose’s you were wearing were NOT coming off with the hook of his finger

��i… i dont understand…”

oh poor thing they never do

you explain to him that the other female deepspace hunters wanted to test out their durability— you just happened to know a good test for them

he understands, but he still doesn’t know why you’re wearing it with him

you sigh, the initial test was a success but now he was really trying to make you spell it out for him

you pull out the small dagger out of its sheath that rested on your thigh

he looks at you in confusion as you wrap his fingers around the hilt

“i’m sure you can figure out your way around this obstacle.”

and then it clicks and his face of confusion is no more

it’s safe to say, the same trick won’t work on him twice

rafayel

this man takes it as a personal attack— like you might as well have had called him a lemurian slur

“so you want me to die?”

you loved him, but this man was always doing the absolute most but he won’t admit it

if anything you’re getting ALL the blame, you got him all worked up and then you stroll up wearing the indestructible pantyhose’s from hell

he flickers a flame in between his fingers

talking about some “i wonder if they’re fireproof”

you was not about to let him find out— YOU WERE STILL WEARING THEM

“what? can’t handle a little fire?”

and he had the nerve to act like you did an attempt on his life meanwhile this man was scheming as he poked and prodded the thick mesh around your thighs

you two practically start wrestling until he has you pinned

“fine we’ll do things your way, but promise to let me burn them after they’re off.”

zayne

you had been a brat obnoxious all evening it was no wonder he was itching to put you in your place

as per usual it was attractive how he’d reach over your body to pin your arms against the bed as face to face with your torso looking absolutely starved

but right when he was about to tear into you (figuratively and literally), that pesky pair of mesh you always sported were NOT budging

he had to pause and take a minute to reflect

my man was ready to ravish you like how a predator would to their prey but he was being bested by fabric

you were trying so hard not to laugh because you can see the cogs turning in his head

“it seems that i’ve played into your hands.”

you chuckle, innocently claiming that you were getting a tad bit tired of all the pantyhose’s that he’d tear into, it was a lot of money wasted

he insures that it’s never a waste he keeps a collection of all the ones he’s torn

the entire situation is too funny to you, you really can’t help but giggle at him

he really can’t stay annoyed at you, he also did find it a lot funnier than it should’ve been

he still wanted to have his way with you

“it’s no matter, all this is to show that i’ll have to be the gentleman you deserve.”

sure your pantyhose’s were spared that night but you weren’t

❀° ┄───╮

a/n: y’all this idea literally fell from the damn sky— well actually i just saw those instagram promo stories about those hella thick and durable pantyhose’s soooo thank instagram ig?

it’s nothing crazy— i can’t write smut without having a visceral reaction sooo uh… i salute the girlies on here who can bc PHEW 🫡🫡🫡

also i wrote this on the bus lolz, thank god for privacy screen protectors

okay love you all mwah mwah MWAHHHH

╰───┄ °❀

[petersnya]

ok this is gonna be a really blunt and kinda crazy ask but i’m ovulating and i need anakin content 😭 we need the details on what he’s got going on down there. I’m talking length, width, girth, tip shape and color, do the curtains match the drapes, idfk like how does his cum taste?? anyways have a great day/night your work is what keeps me sane sometimes ngl

Nah we the same fr cause I think about this all the timeeee

Anakin def a pretty average length (I think that’s 5 in idk) but maybe like an inch or two longer so it’s 7 maybe 8 in and for some reason my brain is saying that it curves (to the left or right I’m not sure but it for sure has a nice curve). I think it’s not insanely girthy but the girth it does have make his cock fit like a glove in you. He has to use a little force to get it in but once it’s in it just slides through and you can feel it everywhere.

Okay okay, so for tip color I feel like it’s a normal shade a pink (look up “rose shade pink” to be specific) that’s not too distinguishable from others but when he’s hard OMG I just know it turns a a deeper shade of pink (look up “rouge shade pink” but it’s a little lighter than that). I have the urge to get my nails painted this colors… anyways… also yes I think the curtains match to drapes but just a tad bit darker than his natural hair colors which is like a really dirty blonde/brunette.

Anis cum is for sure warm when it touches any part of you (especially tongue). It taste salty but oddly sweet. I feel like he knows as much as you and him do stuff he needs to keep a healthy diet to makes sure it taste just as good as it feels for you— so he eats right and drinks rights just for his little girl.