#i have all the outcomes now without ANY HELP
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lizzybeeee ¡ 3 days ago
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Personal take: One of the weirdest things Veilguard did, outright baffling, in fact, is how it feels like they reset the status quo of the world to Origins - even further back, if anything.
The game avoids (at all costs) meaningfully delving into exploring what these events/lore reveals mean to the world and characters at large. But the entire time I was thinking: holy shit this is bad.
What happens in game has very, very bad implications for the rest of Thedas and how they're going to look at groups like the Elves and Mages. I'm looking at this from the perspective of someone whose played all three previous games, not from the perspective of datv which really brushes over all moral complexity and sociopolitical issues. Of course, it's just my interpretation but its based off what happened in previous games.
Elves
The Elvish Gods of legend came back, blighted, and ended up wiping out the majority of the South - I find it hard to believe that the elves would not be 'roped in' as being responsible somehow.
Elves could sneeze in a previous game and people would blame them for causing a plague and purge the alienage -> life is shit for an elf and the events of datv would have absolutely made life a thousand times worse.
Would there be purges of alienages? Are there groups like the chavaliers or mobs of humans going about an killing elves because 'It's your Gods. It's your fault.'
Obviously, it isn't. But there are plenty of examples in Thedas' history of people acting rashly/cruelly out of terror and anger - and it's the most vulnerable people, like the Elves and Mages, who are targeted.
The Dalish Elves, what remains of them, would likely be perceived as 'Blight/Old God worshipers' - people would chase them off for the 'crime' of living too close to them in the woods in DAO.
Terrified, angry people would not care if the Dalish said they had nothing to do with what's happening - there would be bloodshed.
If anything improved for the elves from the time of Origins -> Mahariel, Tabris, Lavellan, or Briala...it's likely back to ground one as the best possible outcome, and closer to the Exalted March on the Dales at it's worst.
Mages
Mages could, potentially, have been living a life of unprecedented acceptance if Leliana was Divine -> along come the Evanuris, mages, who are allied with the Venatori who are causing devastation in Orlais and the Free Marches specifically.
Missive - Message from the Front -> The Tide Turns "The Venatori and the Orlesian royal armies clash daily in Orlais. Val Royeaux is now under control of the rebels, and from there the Venatori launch attacks as far east as Kirkwall."
The original magisters (evanuris) wielding the Blight and Old Gods 2.0 x2.
Any templars who remained, who had the old mindset and outlook of how mages should be treated, absolutely would be pointing at the venatori and saying "we warned you what would happen without the Order."
Normal people wouldn't give a shit that it's only a 'few' mages -> their entire home is gone, their families are dead, and the people responsible are wielding magic.
Fear of magic would likely be at an all time high - If the Order doesn't exist people would likely be demanding for them to come back.
The mages - whatever goodwill they earned - are likely being faced with suspicion and terror because this is proof of what magic can do in the hands of power-hungry douchebags.
Maybe they help to fight and people don't get so suspicious of them - who knows! This game doesn't want to address the previous games so it's in limbo.
Spirits
Other people have done great posts about how the spirits were completely tossed aside in this game. Three games worth of humanizing spirits, with Justice and Cole, only to go back on it with Solas reinforcing the Veil and...maintaining the status quo?
He so earnestly discussed with us his perspective on spirits and how they're just as 'real' as those on this side of the Veil - we saw it with Cole firsthand. But I guess they can all chill in the Fade till Solas dies or whatever.
I'd argue that the elves and mages are in an even worse position than they were in Origins. It's just not fulfilling, to me at least, to see the World I got so invested in just regress to the status quo after three games of challenging it. For it to not be meaningfully discussed or spoken about in-game, just brushed aside...I may not have liked the decision to do this but it could have been interesting (at least) if they actually discussed it.
Also, people don't just 'band together' because of the Blight - Origins showed us very well that in times of strife and pressure peoples petty/deeply ingrained beliefs, prejudices, and values come to the forefront. Alistair's comment about “You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together" -> was him being snarky about how everybody as Ostagar was on the verge of throwing hands with each other. They were united in cause not in belief - the cause being to eradicate the darkspawn.
It's just so grim, and with how they handled sociopolitical issues and moral complexity in datv (not at all) I have no hope that they'll be able to address this at all, if they even bother to and don't just...ignore it, I guess.
Maybe this is what the devs meant when they said that the 'tone' was similar to Origins - just straight up erasing whatever strides was made in the previous games and setting it back to square one lmao
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neysaadept ¡ 3 days ago
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Prometheus Chapter 14
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Emily Prentiss x Female CIA Reader
Chapter 14 - Hold Space
Tags: Swearing, panic attack, drinking, mentions of past sexual abuse and alcoholic parent. No beta reader, mistakes are all me. Minors DNI.
Word Count: 7.2k
AO3
The team landed back in D.C. early Sunday night and you all scattered back to the comforts of your own homes. It was an exhausting time in New Mexico, but the team was thankful for a positive outcome before the unsub, Gabriel Arellano, targeted another victim. Of course, JJ, Lewis, and Alvez were not tired enough to interrogate you all about chasing the unsub down for an arrest. They were riveted to your animated tale with Rossi chiming in about how he was quite alive and healthy despite Garcia’s concerns. Prentiss occasionally added in details when appropriate and without the chip on her shoulder she’s been carrying around for over a week. No one is entirely sure how things were patched up between the two of you, only Rossi sharing with the others that the talk you and Prentiss had at the crime scene went well.
No one knows just how well and the two of you are planning on keeping it that way. You both have people that care about you a lot that have pushed you in this direction, but taking this next step together would remain between the two of you until you were both comfortable informing the team, your brothers and sister, and Brian. Most importantly, you both wanted to see how this went without extra drama. The two of you were perfectly capable of doing that together without any help.
For now, Sunday night was enjoying a bottle of Stella as you pulled out ingredients to make dinner grabbing, salt, pepper, oil, butter, and some thyme to go with the steak you picked up at the Safeway Grocery store that was within walking distance. Once Prentiss approved of you being out in the field, you learned quickly to keep essentials at home and fill in perishable items as needed or pack them in the freezer.
Everything was neatly lined up on the counter with the ribeye resting in the package while you were trimming the green beans with the chef’s knife. You set it aside to use your hand to sweep the ends into the other when a chime went off on your phone.
You dump the remains into the compost bin, wash your hands and dry them off with the kitchen towel you throw over your shoulder and see who it is.
Overlord sent 2034: You free Friday night after work?
You laugh, realizing you’re going to have to change Emily’s name again. For now, you keep it because it’s too funny to see her name like this.
Whitlock sent 2036: I guess it depends if the bad guys do not make plans for me?
Whitlock sent 2036: And if my boss isn’t going to be a bitch again.
Whitlock sent 2036: 😉
Overlord sent 2036: I said I was sorry!
Overlord sent 2039: Oh. You were joking.
Whitlock sent 2041: I suppose my brilliance does not translate well over text for you yet. Your profiling skills are limited now. Oh darn. 🤔
Overlord sent 2042: You’re a lot more confident over text then you were in NM. Memory serves, you could barely look at me.
“Ugh,” you half groan and laugh at that before leaning against the counter. She had you there. Text was easier to be silly and flirty since you didn’t have to stare into intense brown orbs that radiate confidence that actually made you feel giddy - not pretend play with a mark who looked similarly at you.
That made you look up curiously at admitting that to yourself.
You didn’t have to pretend.
You acknowledge Prentiss was attractive early on with her natural silver-grey hair and facial lines that held emotional history as much as linear. She cut a gorgeous figure in her work clothes and she’s a handful of people that weren’t placating you that she understood where you were coming from. Because she did, to an extent, and would know where to end it and be empathetic. It was naturally easy for you to be open with her because she was a CIA spy, your current role until you joined the BAU. The gritty reality of what that means instead of the glorified action and adventure movies and shows make it out to be, or even the ones that try to emulate the truth still never nail it down. You really have to be staring at life and death at all times while being in character or you’re dead. All of characters you play at forces you to kill a part of yourself and hide it.
But there were also the parts that weren’t so grim that made you adore her. You always loved how Emily’s face lit up when she laughed and how her nose scrunched when she was cheeky. Or how she licks her lips in thought, a seemingly subconscious habit that didn’t have a pattern that you noticed. And yes, you tried figuring it out. You only surmised it wasn’t due to dry lips because Emily’s lips never looked that way. And yes, you looked at her lips a lot and wondered what it would feel like to kiss them.
Your thoughts were disturbed by a chime, and you look down at your phone.
Overlord sent 2048: Did I scare you off already? 😉
You brightly grin reading that. This was the Emily that you slowly allowed into your life and its numerous secrets that you barely scratched the surface with her. Your mind starts wandering down a scary road of what ifs again, but you swallow down your fears for now. You can worry about logistics after figuring out if you and Emily actually worked.
Whitlock sent 2050: Nope.
Overlord sent 2050: All I get is a nope?
Whitlock sent 2051: Yep! Hah.
Overlord sent 2051: Ha ha. Then how about an answer to my question. You like avoiding them.
Whitlock sent 2054: Yes, I’m free Friday. Unless Brian calls me for something. Which is not likely.
Whitlock sent 2054: And this is a for real CIA call in and not made up before you say ANYTHING
Overlord sent 2055: Wouldn’t dream of it. See you tomorrow?
This baffles you because of course you’re seeing her tomorrow. Why would Emily say something so pedestrian?
Then you smack your forehead. “Fucking idiot,” you mutter to yourself. She was ending the communication politely because it was getting late.
Whitlock sent 2057: You know it. Now off to my date with a steak.
You look at your text and decide to add a little more, realizing you didn’t want to end the conversation so soon.
Whitlock sent 2058: What’s for dinner on your end?
And then your phone rings. It’s Overlord’s name staring back at you. You pick it up and answer perplexedly. “Uh … hi?”
“Hello to you, too. And to answer your questions.”
Your eyes narrow because you only had one question, not multiple to warrant a plural.
“Based on the menus currently on my table, Chinese or pizza. And I called because I felt it was not only quicker to talk this way, I wanted to hear your voice instead.”
If you could melt, you’d be a puddle on the floor with how sweet that is. “Maybe your profiling skills are better over text than I thought.”
“Hm. And why’s that?” she asks with her voice dropping an octave lower, making your shiver.
“Uh … cuz I kinda didn’t want our conversation to end just yet,” you admit with such ease that surprises you.
“Mm. Me too. I just wanted to be polite since it’s late after a long case.”
You can hear her smiling into the phone as her voice goes back to its usual cadence. And fuck it all, you’re smiling like a fool too knowing you both felt the same. “Yeah?”
That’s all you have to say because you are dumbstruck with her honesty. You hear her chuckle softly and say your name. “Yes.”
“Well, to be fair. You need to eat and take out’s gonna be at least an hour if you don’t get on that soon. I don’t want you starving.” You pull the phone back and put her on speaker to free up your hands to work on dinner. You grab the green beans you trimmed and bring them over to the sink where the strainer is waiting for them. You turn on the water and start rinsing. Normally you’d soak them overnight, but you weren’t waking your ass up that early to cook. “You need to take care of yourself, too.”
“What’re you doing?” she asks and then a sense of concern bubbles forth that you can’t control.
“Wait. Are you at the office?” you say, partly accusing.
“No. I’m actually home.”
“I’m glad to hear that despite Armageddon coming.”
“Funny.” Her tone is sarcastic and amused. “But what’re you doing? I hear the water going.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ve deduced you’re on speaker.”
“Indeed.”
“Kinda need both hands to cook.”
“Wait. You’re cooking?” she can’t hide her shock, and it makes you frown.
“Why is that so surprising?” you ask, taking the green beans from the strainer to the pan waiting for them. It wasn’t hot yet, unlike the steak pan that you wanted smoking hot.
“Well, I suppose it isn’t. I just didn’t know you can cook.”
You hum thoughtfully and take the ribeye out of the wrappings and place it on the cutting board to trim. It was a lot for one person, but you were making a few meals out of this for work, too. “We don’t know a lot about each other yet so everything's going to be new, and maybe a surprise because of preconceived notions. For instance, can you cook?”
She laughs. “A little ... well, no. Not really. I know some basics and a couple of dishes Dave’s taught me. But left to my own devices? I’ll just burn everything.”
You chuckle. “And now I know why you live on takeout.”
“Unfortunately.” She pauses there as you set aside your knife once satisfied with how the steak looks. You then season with salt and pepper and flip the steak over with a soft thunk to generously prepare the other side, too. The silence was quite comfortable, and you imagine that Emily was picturing what you were doing based on sounds alone.
“Well, maybe if things go well, I can not only feed you properly, but I can also teach you how to cook,” you say offhandedly.
“Or you could feed me properly now.”
Emily boldness stops you in mid salting. “Uh …”
You can hear how smug she is at making you lose your words. “It’s merely a suggestion, honey.”
Now your eyes widen with the pet name that had only been used playfully as co-workers. This was definitely an escalation of its use here as Emily’s voice held a soft purr at the end of the word. Would this be a good idea right now to entertain Emily at your apartment, or should you both wait for a proper date? Though was anything about your life proper? That is a resounding no. Your life became a fucked up story since your dad first put his hands on you and your mother ignored it all with booze.
Fuck it. You return back to seasoning the steak and go digging for more information. “And why are you offering said suggestion besides you being hungry.”
“Truthfully?”
“The only kind I like right now when it comes to us,” you declare with raw honesty.
“Well, we can wait until Friday if you’re more comfortable with that, but I’d like to try and spend more quality time with you to make up for all the bullshit that I put you through this past week. I can’t change what I did, but if you’re open for it, I’d just really like to see you again that isn’t involving work.”
Warmth spreads through your heart and you can’t stop your mouth from answering positively. “Then come over.”
You surmise it takes Emily by surprise how quickly you agree as she has to take a few seconds to respond. Her voice is tentative. “Are you sure?”
You lean over the counter and nod to yourself, physically making sure you truly are okay with this. “I am. I’ve got enough food for two, and then some. Just won’t have as much leftovers for work now, but it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make for you.”
She chuckles. “Only if you’re sure …”
You smile. “I am.”
“Then I’ll be over shortly. Say twenty minutes?”
You open your eyes and remember how close Emily lives to you. “Uh …” You wince, utterly annoyed that this woman can render you stupid with an inability to speak properly.
“Is that too soon?” she asks cautiously. Perhaps Emily was reconsidering based on your reaction.
“No!” You slam your eyes shut with how desperate you sound. “I mean. That’s fine. Dinner should be ready then.”
“Are you sure this okay with you? If it isn’t, I’m fine with delaying this until the weekend.”
Emily is very thoughtful and the affection that you have for her overtakes the nervousness you feel. “Yes, it is. Really. Just, can we … uh … just, ya know? Keep this chill? Don’t go crazy with it being a date. Though I guess it kinda is. I mean, maybe a … pre-date.”
What the absolute fuck is wrong with you?
“I’ll come as is.”
Thankfully Emily doesn’t think anything is wrong with you. “Well, don’t come barefoot. You need shoes or something.”
She chuckles. “See you soon.”
After you hang up with Emily, you focus on making dinner. You’ve done this dish countless times, but this is the first time making it for someone you want to impress, not needing to. You cover the beans and set it to simmer and put the steak in the over to finish off before setting the table. You keep it simple and set it like you would eat but for two with the added salt and pepper shakers in case Emily needs them. You do opt for wine glasses and wait for her to arrive so she can pick out what you have on hand, which is limited since you weren’t the big wine drinker like Emily.
And then you realize you should have asked Emily to bring a bottle she liked. “Dumbass,” you mutter, while staring down at the square table set for two just as there was a knock at the door.
Your head snaps up in that direction and you close your eyes to take a deep breath. When you open your eyes, you take one last look at yourself, still wearing your CIA shirt, black sweats and bare feet. You wiggle your toes nervously and consider putting on socks, but you asked Emily to come casual and you should, too.
Walking to the door, you’re telling yourself not to be nervous and when you confirm through the peephole that it’s Emily, that plan goes out the window. She completed the assignment as coming as is and ended up way over dressed than you since she was still in her work clothes. They were wrinkled from wear, so there’s that, and she had her hair pulled back in a messy bun with a few strands left flowing around her face. You smile and laugh wordlessly seeing that she wore a pair of sneakers and carries a bottle of wine.
Knowing you can work with this; your nerves calm some as you open the door. “Right on time,” you announce with a smile that she immediately matches.
Her eyes absorb every detail of yours and you feel naked under her penetrating gaze. With a small purse of her lips, she holds up a bottle of cabernet. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Actually, I was feeling really dumb for not telling you to bring something,” you admit while stepping aside. “Come on in.” When you close the door, you point to the kitchen counter. “You can put it there.”
“It smells amazing in here,” Emily says while scanning the kitchen for the source of the delicious smells. She does see a covered pan on the stove and a breadbasket next to the bottle she set down. She could feel the warmth coming from the sliced-up baguette and smiles at the added touch.
“Let me get your coat.” You approach Emily from behind and take the long black coat by the collar as she adjusts her arms to assist you.
“Thanks.” She tucks her hands into pants pockets and watches you hang up her coat in the hallway closet. You’re hiding it well, but she can tell you’re nervous by how thoughtfully precise you were in smoothing out her coat and making extra space for it when you hung it up. You purposefully left gaps on either side of it so nothing would touch it.
“Want me to pour the wine?” She’s hoping the light conversation will make this more familiar and comfortable.
“Uh, sure. Corkscrew’s in the drawer on the right next to the sink.”
She works taking off the foil as you come padding back into the kitchen like you owned it. Your moves were comfortable, dare say adept, at opening the oven and taking out the pan that was heating in there with a plain oven mitt. She couldn’t help an adoring smile that graces her lips as you kick the oven close with a bare foot.
You’re ignorant of Emily’s gaze but hear her rummaging through the drawer for the corkscrew as you test the steak. You nod, liking the feel for a medium rare, toss the kitchen towel over your shoulder and let it rest. Your focus was putting the green beans in a serving bowl you have never used but this is the first time entertaining someone at this location.
When you turn around, Emily’s pouring the wine, and you take that moment for a silent breath. You grab the breadbasket along the way to the table. You didn’t get a good look at the bottle, but it looks fancy. “What did you bring?”
“A Chateau Palmer Bordeaux.” She rattles it off so casually like the bottle doesn’t go for several hundred dollars.
“There was a memo about keeping this chill.”
“And why isn’t this chill?” There is confusion in her voice as Emily sets the bottle down. “This goes well with steak.”
Your fingers rub at your forehead, eyes squinting in bewilderment. “Because that company only makes bottles that are the cheapest at a hundred bucks.”
Her eyebrows raise with puzzlement. “And?”
“That’s way too much on a chill dinner …” You bring your hand down and gesture wildly at the space between the two of you. “…thing. This dinner thing we’re having.”
With a silent oh, she approaches you and takes your hands in hers. Her thumbs press firmly against the top of your hands and start to rub circles once you don’t back away from the closeness. “I wanted to bring it. Consider it a gift since you’re gifting me with an actual home cooked meal.”
She tests the waters further and takes a step forward, causing your joined hands to rise upwards between the two of you. You bring your eyes up and gaze into serene ones. Emily’s posture was calm and inviting, her lips parting in a slight smile. There was nothing for you to fear and you feel your body lose some of its tension and squeeze her hands back. “Yeah. That makes sense.”
Her voice is soft and gently wants to confirm. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” You nod and her eyes sparkle with affection.
“Good.” Emily takes it a step further and leans forward to press a chaste kiss against your cheek. Your body experiences warmth throughout from the gentle display that felt natural between the two of you. You feel the brush of her nose graze along your cheek for just a moment before she was back searching your eyes for any discomfort. Seeing none, she coyly drops her head towards the table. “Shall we eat then?”
You eagerly nod. “Yeah. Take a seat and I’ll be right there.”
The two of you share a smile and a lingering touch of fingers taking their time to unwind from one another so you could get back to the kitchen. With renewed purpose, you take the butter near the stove that you placed there to help soften it up and put it on the island counter so it wouldn’t start to melt. Then you focus on slicing the meat and grin proudly that the juices remain intact from resting. You slide the knife under the strips to plate and bring everything over to Emily, who was sitting and enjoying a sip of the wine.
Her eyes light up, impressed with your skills, and compliments. “Are you sure I’m not at a Michelin Star restaurant? This looks steak house quality.”
You blush as you put everything down on the table. “Thanks. I got bored a lot on assignments. And when I could,” you then take the seat across from Emily and shrug, “I learned how to cook.”
“A worthwhile skill to master.” She eagerly brings her hands up but then slowly curls them closed. “Ah …”
Her eyes are questioning, and you chuckle, making your nervously bouncing leg stop so you can gesture over the food. “Please!’
As Emily fills her plate, you follow soon after, until you have both forks and steak knives ready in hand. You wait on digging in as you want to see Emily’s response to your cooking firsthand and closely observe her cutting off a piece of steak and begin to bring it to her mouth.
You’re feeling confident and wanting to tease her, so you bring up your steak knife and point it at her with an impish grin and teasing eyes before she could get the morsel into her mouth. “You dare ask for steak sauce; I’m kicking you outta here.”
Her mouth clamps shut before nodding once quickly. “Noted.”
You observed one another – Emily noticing how your lips were trying to remain even, though the edges were twitching in anticipation, and you seeing how delighted she was by this with the softest hint of her eyes narrowing. And damn it, you couldn’t help slowly leaning over the table in time with her fork.
Her eyes widened with approval as the first taste of flavor hits her senses. “Oh my god” She blinks several times in awe while moaning appreciatively. “This is so fucking good.”
You are overwhelmingly happy by Emily’s response and your face lights up with a radiant smile. Did you ever feel genuinely happy like this in your life? You’re having trouble matching this emotion to anything else that was considered good in your experience but come up short. To add to the moment, Emily winks at you and adds. “Putting steak sauce on this would be an atrocity. So, I guess I can stay, huh?”
You look away and lightly rub your tongue behind your lower lip modestly. When you look up, Emily was still enjoying the first bite and cutting the next while looking at you coyly. “Yeah,” you chuckle. “I guess you can stay.”
The two of you share a warm smile and as you start cutting your steak, you begin to realize that this wasn’t so difficult. It was just like sharing a meal in Emily’s office, the two of you being playful and chatting it up as usual, minus the pretense that the two of you actually felt something more heightened than friendship.
You’re starving from a long flight and barely eaten anything besides jet food and an apple that you munched on while walking home from the store. With the gusto that Emily is attacking her plate, you figure she was equally as hungry. The first strips of steak and handful of beans disappeared without a word spoken and finally Emily considers you while sipping her wine. The hairs on the back of your neck rise with dread.
The time for small talk during a date has arrived.
In your panic, you remind yourself that this is just you and Emily talking. You’ve done this many a time before. Be cool.
Emily swirls the wine in her glass as she regards you. “Is it possible to revisit a question I once had but you couldn’t answer?”
“Uh, which one? You got quite a few of those,” you laugh, that simple act helping your body to relax against the chair with bread in hand.
You take a bite of it when Emily chuckles too. “Well, I was thinking since I’m sitting here with you now when few know where you are … if you can now tell me how you joined the CIA?” She asked her question quite thoughtfully by how slowly she asked it. This had been a source of contention between you and Emily wanted to avoid yet another misunderstanding.
“Hm.” Your brows furrow as you finish chewing your food. Can you? Should you? Will you even be able to verbalize all the shit you’ve been through without scaring her off?
Charlie said Emily wouldn’t be so easily frightened but there’s no way of knowing how she’d react. Not until you take that dive. Take that chance.
“Hm is more of an answer than I got last time,” Emily teases gently.
That makes you laugh. “True. It’s more logistics now. You do have some sense of clearance now. How much tho?”
Her brows raise up in wonder. “I’m not entirely sure. It was only on a verbal okay versus anything on paper.”
“Ah. Fair enough.” You sit up to angle your hand into your pocket to pull out your phone.
“What’re you doing?”
“Texting Brian.”
“… for?” She’s on alert and sets her glass down.
Whitlock sent 2147: Hey, how much clearance did you give Emily?
You place the phone down on the table face up. ”To see how much I can tell ya.”
“Oh, shit. That’s unnecessary, really.” She taps a fingernail on the side of the wine glass. “You’re under no obligation to share. I’m sure Korogoth’s got better things to do anyway.”
Your phone buzzes but you don’t look at it yet. You’re focusing on Emily. “You’ll see that Brian makes time for me or as soon as he can if he’s busy. But really, Emily?” You wait it out until she looks at you and you give her a promising smile with the next words you declare to her. “I also want to tell you.”
You hear her softly gasp as you pick up the phone to read Brian’s message.
Dad sent 2150: Oh, it’s Emily now?
You roll your eyes as you respond back, which piques Emily’s curiosity. “What did he say?’
Whitlock sent 2155: You going to answer the question or not?
“Nothing. Just being an ass,” you grunt in response.
She shakes her head, tongue in cheek. “Wow. Never thought I’d be around someone who casually calls the director of the CIA an ass.”
Your mischievous eyes catch mirthful brown ones. “Be around me long enough and you’ll be hearing a lot more colorful adjectives describing him.”
Emily throws her head back with laughter and it makes your heart sing with joy. Then you scowl at seeing the message from Brian.
Dad sent 2156: What’s her question.
Whitlock sent 2156: How I joined the CIA.
Emily silently studies your face as she sips. She can tell you are taking this very seriously with your focus being on the conversation you’re having with Korogoth.
Dad sent 2158: She doesn’t need to know.
Fuck, that’s the usual answer given but he won’t be expecting your next response.
Whitlock sent 2159: I want her to know.
You stare at the screen for a minute, but nothing comes. Your teeth clench together in disappointment at the lack of response and pick up your fork. Sensing the answer to her own question, Emily offers a sympathetic smile. “It’s alright. There’s other things we can talk about.”
But your phone goes off again and you use your left hand to get the message. Emily takes the moment to pick up a green bean by hand to nibble on.
Dad sent 2204: And now I know why she is Emily now. Go for it.
“Huh.” You can’t help but slip out your surprise.
“Is everything okay?” Emily tentatively asks while rolling another green bean in hand.
“Uh, yeah.”
Whitlock sent 2205: Thanks Brian. Really.
“Said I could talk to you about it.” You take a moment to mentally prepare yourself for this conversation. It’s one you haven’t had to speak of in a couple decades.
Dad sent 2205: Stop talking to me and go talk to her! I want no more communication from you until then!
“Oh my god!” You start giggling and without thinking, show Emily the last text from Brian. “I think he approves.”
“What?” She squints to read it and then blanches. “You … you didn’t tell him we were seeing each other, did you?”
“No!” You’re still laughing. “He figured it out just now.”
“And you have him in as dad?!” She can’t hide the astonishment from her voice as she points to the contact name.
Do you, or don’t you reveal another special name?
You nod, because you do, though Emily took the nod as a reaction to her own response at you calling the CIA director dad in your phone.
You waggle your brows. “Wanna see my favorite contact name?”
She shrewdly assesses your roguish grin and eyes that sparkle with a hidden agenda. “I’m gonna regret this aren’t I?”
You bring the phone back and close the text with Brian and bring up Emily’s details. “Maybe. But to be fair, I do need to update it again.”
Emily cants her head to the side with concern. “Again?”
“Yeah. I had to change it back to this,” you hold the phone up facing her once again and right there in bold letters shows the name Overlord Prentiss, “but you know, my boss was kinda being a dick to me.”
Emily humbles with soft, widening eyes, and a long face as she digests this information. “Um …” Her head dips forward as if she swallowed something bad and licks her lips. “… how long have you had this nickname for me?”
“After the first frosty encounter.”
“So, day one.”
“Yep.” You bring the phone back to edit her name. “After drinks at Buddy’s, I did change it.”
Emily opens her mouth with understanding. “Then the fight after Hayden happened.”
“Aye.” You show her the updated name with a smile. “Better?”
It now said Silver Fox.
Her eyes narrow with approval, a slight smirk starting to form as she catches your gaze and when she speaks, her voice drops lower and becomes slightly raspy. “Well, I certainly like that one better. A lot better …”
Your cheeks flush, cursing your body’s response, but soon you’re craning your neck to see why Prentiss was taking out her phone. She only offers a flirtatious smirk as she scrolls and types out something before presenting the screen to you.
Your name has become Hot Rod in her contacts, and you immediately laugh with delight. “Oh my god, I love it!”
And you truly do as the shyness that had overtaken you is replaced with that familiar affection that had been growing for some time. Your eyes soften and you start to reach over the table to take her hand without thinking but force it to stop as this was all new to you. Are you supposed to do this when you have true feelings for someone and not seducing someone to your will? What is normal in these situations?
Emily sees your hesitation and closes the distance with her free hand and immediately your fingers lace together. Her flirtatious demeanor has tempered into a shared moment of understanding that this was more than a casual dinner after all. It had become another apology from Emily and confirmation that the feelings you have burgeoning between the two of you are more than just physical.
Your heart races as you see Emily’s brown eyes grow intensely warm with soft brows arching upwards. You squeeze her hand, clinging to the moment and then your phone goes off again. You feel your eyes brimming with wetness from the emotions that were foreign to the chemical makeup inside your brain.
You force a swallow, and your mouth opens with an apology. “Sorry. I … uh, I need, to uh, need to get that.”
Emily holds onto your hand. “Can’t it wait?”
She was distracted by the intimacy that it didn’t register that the notification was from a different phone. You shake your head sadly. “It’s the burner phone.”
“Fucking Sicarius.” She hisses and reluctantly releases your hand before smoothing out her features in order to focus.
You rise with purpose and are all business as you approach the living room table to pick up the burner phone. It’s the number you gave Sicarius to contact you. If he tried to run a search on the number, he would learn nothing except you cover your tracks like he does. You unlock the phone and read the message.
+18042876389 sent 2241: Tomorrow 12pm EST
“We’re on for tomorrow at noon.” You explain and type a simple response back.
+18318269346 sent 2245: Confirmed
“I’m letting Garcia know.” You look up and see Emily on her phone and note the warmth of her voice had become clipped and informal.
“Should we have the whole team present?”
She looks up thoughtfully. “Are you comfortable with the audience?”
“Doesn’t bother me in the least,” you answer truthfully. You had far bigger groups witnessing you pretend play on a call. “Garcia’s gonna run the call so everyone hears, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then more profiling ears the better.” You look down at the phone and know there will be no further communication tonight, so you lock it down and place it back on the table.
Agreeing with your assessment, Emily brings up her calendar and schedules a meeting first thing in the morning with the entire team to brief everyone on this project you, her, and Penelope have been working on. She attaches a file that goes over the synopsis of this undercover operation, including the backstory that was created for you. Garcia has already responded back that she’ll have everything ready for the 12pm call and for the briefing.
You slide back onto the chair at the dinner table and notice you have a notification of a new event at work. You look up at Emily, who was still busy organizing the logistics of what that simple text meant for the BAU. It was a tremendous lead. It also meant you were now in serious danger if things went sideways like it did for Green. But unlike him, you were driven by the mission, not a vendetta. You know how to remain cautious like with any shift into undercover work and will remain true to character. It got you this far in life and in your career. Now it would assist the BAU in apprehending a serial killer.
“Decided it should be a viewing party for the whole crew?” You mention casually while grabbing another piece of bread.
She hums in agreement. “Makes sense having everyone there.” Emily sets her phone down with a sigh before running the palms of her hands over her face, the loose strands of her bun following with her. She was visibly irritated by how the mood was interrupted, not necessarily that it was.
“Sucks.” Your voice is gruff as you speak which makes Emily look over at you with confusion. “First date ever and a fucking psycho had to ruin it.” You end it with a humorless smirk.
She ended up laughing which parted the gloomy cloud that had overtaken the mood. “Gotta love the timing of these things in our line of work.” She sighs in resignation over at you. “It’s close to midnight and there’s a lot to do tomorrow.”
In other words, Emily was politely excusing herself for home.
“Counter point to what you’re gonna say.” Your body is taking over your mouth despite your mind telling you to shut the fuck up, but Emily doesn’t dispute what you mean and gazes at you inquisitively as the silent invitation to continue this proposal. “Well,” you start and then jut your jaw out nervously. “You could just stay …”
Your uncertainty makes her eyes widen. “Stay?”
“Yeah. Cuz uh, you, uh, don’t live far and if you stay, we can kinda pick up talking and stuff.” You visibly wince. God you suck at this. How did you do this convincingly with marks?
“Stuff?” Emily teases with a brow smoothing out as the other turns coy.
And now your cheeks are burning with the nebulous definition of stuff. Your words come quickly, riddled with anxiety. “You know.”
She shakes her head no with that smug flirtatious smirk never leaving Emily’s face.
“You, you brought the wine. Expensive wine that we, uh, you know, didn’t drink much of. And I’m willing to bet Brian gave you a parking pass so you didn’t have to drive around all over the fucking place to find one.”
Now Emily was holding her head up by the chin with a resting elbow, finding your ramblings attractively adorable. “Indeed, he did.”
“So, yeah.” You hand finds purchase on the wine stem, so you have something to hold onto as a way to ground your thoughts. It really doesn’t help. “You live close. Can just go back to your place in the morning to change. Since, driving after that much wine isn’t a good idea.”
She shakes her head in agreement. “No, it is not.”
“But … to be … clear.” Your eyes catch her playful ones but yours reflect a hint of fear. “Guest room for now. I mean, it’s just our first time doing this and I haven’t done this ...ever. And I’m starting to wonder what the ever-loving fuck I’m doing and why aren’t you fucking saying anything because I’m rambling …. Which is why you’re not saying anything. Fuck.”
Your breathing is quick and shallow and now you’re on the verge of a full-on panic attack. The grip on the wine glass becomes forceful and you wonder if it’ll snap because you probably just ruined whatever was happening between the two of you. Why did you listen to fucking Charlie?
However, it is not with pity or ridicule or even disgust that Emily looks at you.
It was sympathy and care. Emily wasn’t judging you at all and she surprises you further when she rises and comes to your side of the table with an open hand. She gestures for you to take it, not forcing anything and simply gazes down at you and gently speaks. “Come here.”
You look dubiously from Emily’s face to her hand and then back up again, not moving from your spot. Emily’s smile is tender as she tries again. “Please.”
Well fuck it. How can you say no to that. Well, you can and if you did, you just know Emily would respect that, but the part of you craving the simplest of intimacies with her that only blossomed from the chaste kiss against your cheek, wanted to reach out and take a chance. It was why you said yes to going out with her after stopping Emily from running off with the misinterpretation of your words. You have a feeling Emily was beginning to understand how difficult this was for you to be clear with intent. So now, she offers a chance to calm your spiraling thoughts.
You take her hand, and with it, you place trust in this woman not to hurt you. Because you know that this meant you were all in if she was, which is why you desperately need to talk. Why you want Emily to stay because if she leaves now, you’re unsure if you’ll be able to talk about the simplest, yet complicated, manner in how you joined the CIA.
Sensing you weren’t going to move; Emily gently tugs your hand to motivate you into standing up. You were expecting Emily to say something at first, but you are surprised that she pulls you into a hug instead. You are stiff, unaccustomed to this level of intimacy in a long time that was not initiated by you. Her free hand slips around your waist as she steps into your personal space while letting go of your hand so she can slide her fingers along your shoulder and then neck. In the next breath that was taken by you, you’re fully pressed against one another and Emily’s cheek glides against your own as she leans in further.
Your eyes are blinking back tears, your body overwhelmed with connection that you honestly can’t remember the last time you had it felt this visceral. You begin trembling and Emily reassures you with a gentle promise. “I’ve got you.”
Immediately your hands curl under Emily’s arms and fiercely grip her shoulders while burying your face against the crook of her neck. You inhale the lingering scent of cigarettes and citrus. You couldn’t distinguish if it was the perfume or hair products she wore, but it was a heady sensation that made you grip Emily tighter for continued comfort. Her nails gently scratch at the back of your neck and graze upwards, tangling into your hair. You have no idea how long you held each other, and it was no surprise that Emily stirred first. Her nose nuzzles into your hair before her lips replace it. The pattern continues – nuzzles and soft kisses that coax you from your hiding spot against her neck until your eyes met.
Your chest clenches under Emily’s warm gaze, her dilating eyes searching yours intently. Whatever she was looking for must have been confirmed because she was soon closing the distance between you further, allowing enough time for you to pull away if you were unsure. But you didn’t pull away. No. You wait until you felt the brush of Emily’s soft lips against your own before closing your eyes. You felt unmoored from reality but what was different than all the other times you found yourself in this unwanted position with others, is that your mind didn’t dissociate on instinct to protect itself. You stay in the moment, tasting the wine on her lips and how they’re firm against yours, not forceful, and feel a gentle sigh escaping Emily’s nose as the air brushes against your face.
This was your first real kiss, and it was perfection.
You respond just as gently and after a moment, Emily pulls back leaving the kiss soft and brief but not letting you go just yet. She brings your forehead to hers, keeping you both connected, and you know her eyes are closed just like yours, not ready to relinquish the intimacy.
“I’d love to stay. Like you asked.” She acknowledges not only your wish but your boundaries as well.
“Yeah?” you ask again but it was with breathless excitement.
You can feel her smiling by how her forehead pinches against yours. “Yeah.”
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acupofinkedblood ¡ 1 day ago
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Katana and owl-hybrid reader
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝
• Hybrid demons are definitely one of a kind. Whether it’s their gear’s doing or life has just granted them a so-called curse under the disguise of a blessing — or maybe it’s another way around, it’s a matter of perspective after all — no one can deny the fascination that bounds with people’s curiosity whenever they a hybrid demons with animalistic traits in the flesh. It’s not too common after all, so please excuse their inquisitive behaviors. Though most of them are different in letting people know in their own way — like how Ducky has a small little duck tail behind her or how Grav’s tail is quite noticeable — you on the other hand, your avian traits are definitely one of a kind
• Certainly the fact that only the SFOTH deities or demons related to them are the only ones with the ability to summon their wings at will and use it. But that doesn’t mean a very slight possibility of a demon who doesn’t have anything to do with the deities can harbor that gift of having wings. You are the prime example of what people thinks won’t happen anytime soon in the next few decades: A demon who bears the attributes of an owl. Don’t question how that manages to happen, just think of it as the spawn has been running on deadline so bad that it literally lets you pass with that extraordinary characteristic of yours without consideration— I jest, but hey, take it easy
• You’re still young, spawned into this world with little knowledge of what is happening at the very moment. It feels like you have just been dragged away from the warm embrace of nothingness into the world’s system without any relatable guidance to your circumstances. Sure, you still have at least someone to look out for, but it still feels weird nonetheless. Your differences compare to others don’t make it easier, now do it? It’s not everyday that people see demons like you with the promising capacity of soaring the sky once you develop enough. They look at you like an exotic specimen, not as a normal demon. Being the certain of the spotlight at such age, it’s hard to tell whether or not do you enjoy such attention
• It’s quite annoying to take care of your own need as an owl hybrid. Most people don’t get the little idea of how that dissimilarity, which is usually what they praise you about, can be such a pain in the ass. That little birdbrain of yours fails to grasp the philosophy of why are you such an outsider to your fellow kins. And don’t get me started on those idiots who picks a fight with you just because they can. Bullies are the worse kind to have a difference around. Such a hassle, no? It’s understandable to feel that way. Maybe that’s why the wilderness keeps calling out to you, so you might be given an opportunity to feel at home. And you did follow that sound, feeding your curiosity the moment you know how to spread your wings to some extent
• The unknown has been quite the surprises for you to discover new things daily. There are quite a lot of things you have on your to do list — or for the lack of better words, your to discover list — while you keep flying on track. But finding a parental figure is definitely not what you have in mind, at least for the time being. And the fact it’s Katana out of nowhere makes things even more hard to believe. Be as it may for people to find it baffling, that’s still the case in your situation
• How did this happen? There are two main scenarios that has led to this outcome: One is your stubbornness has worked its charm when pestering the man nonstop. Let me enlighten you about the possible reasons why you keep tailing Katana around even when he has warned you about the lurking danger following everywhere he goes. You might feel intimidated when sensing the older demon around your area, as owls are often stressed by stranger’s presence due to feeling threatened and out of their element. Though it can be helped - Katana does look scary in a kid’s eyes like yours. Yet it might slowly develop into curiosity. It’s only natural to feel so, and the fact that you aren’t fully aware of typical pleasantries when dealing with someone as strange as Katana. From that moment on, you keep following the man around as if you’re a lost little owlet
• Katana might be bothered by your continuously insistence on being around him. He did try to shoo you away a few times before, but it seemed to backfire his intentions as you just doing whatever you please to do. The older demon technically gave up when he realized that no matter how much he pushed you away, you will just fly back to his direction and observe every movement of his from a reasonable distance. Slowly but steadily, you start to grow onto him. It’s just the matter of time Katana finally gives in and decides that he has another responsibility to keep on his shoulders as a responsible figure
• Two is that Katana seems to see a piece of familiarity in you, probably in a sentimental manner. Maybe you reminded him of someone in the past. He has been wandering for who knows how long on this journey of cleansing the corruption after all, so it’s safe to say he might have met a few people that left an impact in his memory. Or maybe you reminded him of something good in the midst of chaos - a peculiar demon child that he suddenly felt the urge to protect out of nowhere. It didn’t feel right to leave a child like you without knowing that you would be safe the next day or not. It was odd of him to decide to take care of you like that, though comes to think of it, no one can really read what Katana has in mind anyway
• Katana isn’t that good with simple words for children like you, so he will rely on his actions to make sure that you know he cares for you. He is like those traditional father figure who looks intimidatingly quiet but loves his child deep down no matter what
• Whatever is it that has the familiar bound between the two of going on — you convinced him or he convinced you — it doesn’t matter. You’re his child now, and although Katana would say that he isn’t the best father figure to someone your age when he looks at the other family, that doesn’t mean he won’t try for you. Katana wishes for you to be comfortable with telling him what’s in your mind. You need not to worry about anything behind your father’s back, you know he will lean an ear on anything you want to say. Katana is a great listener after all. And maybe his wisdom can aid you through the hardship you are experiencing right now
• If you have a rebellious phase, this old man will definitely have a massive headache while he figuring out how to deal with that attitude of yours in a fair way. Children are already hard to understand, but you will probably make his horns grayer sooner than he’d like. How is he going to talk some senses into you when you’re puffing those feathers of yours out to appear bigger and loudly chittering or hissing at him? Not to mention if you decide to land on a high branch out of his reach. The sight is pretty funny in some way though, an old demon of a father just keeps looking up at an owlet hybrid as he doesn’t know what to do. That is a ‘what if’ only though, but just keeps in mind that he still loves you as always
• He definitely has to do his research carefully before officially takes you in under his wings. Katana does enjoy bird watching in his free time, but he can’t just compare you to those things. Questions are expected, as he wants to know all of your needs to make sure that you don’t have to put up an act to pretend that you’re fine with the new living conditions. In case even you don’t even know what to answer him because you too have no ideas, Katana doesn’t give up that easily. This man will quietly get around and ask anyone he deems that have enough experience with taking care of an avian then selectively choose what shall be the most suitable for you. He won’t tell you since that’s just how he is: Figuring things out on his own so that it won’t stress you out
• Clothings are definitely on that main list for him to think precisely given the wings and the few feathers on your body that just get in the way. Hate to break it to you, kiddo, but don’t expect this man to be able to sew a shirt without the need to intensely glare at the needle to put the thread through in the next three hours. He’s a fighter, not a professional homemaker or anything. One thing he will do, however, is to take you to a trustworthy yet inexpensive tailor in Thieves Den to design a few new outfits for you to wear comfortably. He knows he doesn’t have to do it since he can just cut the back of your shirt a little to make space for your wings, yet he just does anyway. Who is going to stop him? He knows what is the good price for something, no one needs to worry
• Some of your current behaviors are still heavily influenced by your owl’s instinct. From little things like being observant to just have an instinct to fly outside to hunt out of nowhere just because you’re bored. And those actions, which you may think are not that big of a deal, can definitely cause your father to freeze midway when he sees you
• When he first brings you back home, you almost give him a heart attack when you do that infamous yet iconic head turn that pretty sure if it’s not Katana in front of you, people might have called an exorcist to deal with you. Random knowledge, but do you know owls technically can’t turn their head a full 360 degrees motion but rather 270 degrees? Yeah, the same case applies to you. Whatever the degree, you certainly scared your guardian a lot of times before. Poor Katana literally drops his tea cup the moment you turn around looking at him directly into the eyes as you were just turning your back at him earlier when he calls your attention for something. Give him a few moments to get used to that stunt of yours, he’s old now
• One more things that Katana has to take a deep breath while mentally questioning his knowledge is when he sees you regurgitating pellets for the first time. Listen, demons don’t need to eat, remember that alright? And when the two of you want to have a treat all of a sudden, Katana will take you out to the vendors to get a snack or two. Basically most of everything he feeds you are digestive. But then that little birdbrain of yours just swallows if not anything you feel like it’ll be a good idea when it’s obvious that those things are barely edible. This man’s heart rate has done the lambada on a thread when he sees you gagging out pellets of said things out. He immediately takes you to see a doctor and then just facepalm when understand what happened. It doesn’t harm you though, but damn does it give him one hell of a shock
• You know the basics of how to fly, but it’s still clumsily done as you barely have anyone to tell you what to do properly. Flying is like second nature to you, an instinct that only you can understand. Katana doesn’t have that much of information on how should he help you in something only you have full knowing on how. Katana believes that it’s best you learn on your own, but he will also be there to encourage you. Don’t be afraid if you fall again after a short while of practice on flying around in long distance, your father will always be there to offer you a hand to get up on your feet again. Not all the times he will help you up, though he will be there no matter what to keep an eye on you carefully
• Preening is definitely the thing you have to inform him about. You can still do it on your own, but there are some places that you can’t help but groan as you struggle to reach to. You can keep your ego on top of your head if you want instead of asking Katana for help, but don’t be surprised when your wings feel so awful and heavy all of the sudden. Of course, Katana notices that clear change of demeanor in your expression. He knows that avians preen themselves as an act of taking care of themselves. This old man will lean you a hand when he knows you can’t deal with it yourself after numerous attempts. He does know a thing or two about it, but feel free to correct him on anything he does wrong, he appreciates it a lots. You’re his child after all, he doesn’t want to keep making mistakes which might accidentally hurt you
• Since you’re pretty much still an owlet in some sense and not fully developed your hybrid traits to adulthood, your napping schedule definitely amuses Katana. Owls usually get active at night, even though different owls come with different behaviors, but that’s usually the case. It’s not a surprise when you spend most of your time in the day sleeping whenever you feel like it and then proceed to cause havoc when the night falls. And since you’re technically an owlet, you have quite the obnoxious amount of nap time that just hits randomly. Katana isn’t too startled anymore when he sees you slowly drifting away to sleep for a few minutes before bounce back like nothing has ever happened. He’s used to your oddities by now
• The fact you even sleep face down on your stomach while turning your head to the side immediately when you want to sleep is something your guardian finds endearing. You look ridiculous in some ways in a lighthearted manner. Sometimes you even do it in the middle of anywhere you see fit at home but your room when you’re feeling comfortable enough. Picking you up when you’re sleeping the day away on the living room’s floor then bring you back into your bed — which funny enough, it’s literally a nest of pillows and blankets together that you make yourself — is somewhat a typical routine to Katana
• The ronin usually prefers to stay and relax at home if he has a choice. Although when you come into his life, he sometimes insists to take you out to go on a walk with him just so you two can bound together. Maybe a few idle chit chat to catch up on each other’s day or to talk about what has been troubling you. You don’t need to force yourself to have a conversation with him if you have nothing in your mind, he just wants to bring you out to have some fresh air. Walking around the forest can clear up one’s mind in peace after all. You can also fly around freely while Katana takes his time to follow you. Maybe he isn’t going to catch up given that it’s his moment of relaxation, but he still knows where are you, so don’t worry about loosing his track
• If you want to follow him around when he is going to travel, you have rely solely on your logical points to debate with him for quite a long period. In his eyes, you’re still his owlet. No matter how much you try to prove that you’re capable of fighting alongside with him, there is just no way that he will put out you in such unknown danger in which it can make him regret his decision forever. Please understand that he doesn’t baby you, Katana knows better than to spoil you too much, that’s just his way of nurturing you to be independent yet still staying right beside you whenever you need his aid. But you’re just too young. Hell, if you were older, then he might reconsider about this talk once that happened. Though for now, you’re not allowed to come with him. It’s for your own safety, and he makes sure that he explains it in details for you about the potential consequences of it
• Katana genuinely cares a lots about you and your well-being. If anything happens to you, he can’t bring himself to ever let his guilt rest. He has already lost enough, he doesn’t need to put you on that list of people who he values deeply yet has fallen down unfortunately without him able to do anything. You’re his child, his dear owlet, and it’s his responsibility as a father to protect you from the corruption itself. He can’t let his precious pride and joy be taken away by death’s hand. He knows your nature as an avian will urge you to give in to the temptation of exploring the sky. Katana supports that, he knows that soon you will mature and leave his embrace to go on your own journey. However, you are not ready for that future just yet, so it’s his duty to look out for you until you grow up
• That is to say, whenever he has one of those so-called business trip again, he makes sure to leave you with the Thieves Rest trio so that they can look after you with upmost care while he’s away. Although yes, they do bother him with useless deeds sometimes whenever they’re done with business at Crossroads and return to Thieves Den, but at least he knows they aren’t too bad. Especially Slingshot, who he tolerates the most out of the trio. Katana has to think throughly before makes that decision. As much as he’d like the idea of bringing you to Hyperlaser instead, he feels like the idea isn’t really the beat idea. At least with those three, they will know how to keep you entertained while also safe. He has to give them a throughout list of matters that concern you before leaving too, he can be strict when he needs to
• Remember Prince? Yeah, he’s your companion now. He is the first owl in this household that has been accompanied Katana for longer than you have ever been. Maybe at first you two will just stare at each other without blinking out of curiosity or something else, but then you will soon grow on Prince as he accepts you as not a threat. Owl’s minds that think alike, perhaps it’s the case for the two of you. Prince usually do Katana a favor by delivering hand-written messages back and forth to him, so there are more than just a few time when you see Prince appear absurdly without a warning to send you a letter from Katana while he is away. Or when he wants to call you back as he’s at home, Prince will just peak the heck out of your head to drag you to go home without a message
• You’re definitely mentioned in his stories to tell Hyperlaser about when the two old men go out for a drink together. If Hyperlaser can talk about his cat daughter that he loves with everything in this life, why wouldn’t Katana do the same with you, the child he holds dear in his patched cold heart? He is pretty much that type of father who will always keep the family photo with you and him — maybe Prince too — in his robe so that he can pull it out anytime to remind himself of how much he should keep going. Hyperlaser is pretty intrigued of this side of Katana. But even him is a cat dad, he has no intentions to judge the ronin for his fatherly love towards you. That’s something they both have in common unexpectedly after all
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝
Note: Sorry for delaying this request! But I’ve decided to take a break-then do these requests-then a break again so I can recharge myself properly ( ´ ▽ ` ) Thank you for all your patience !
Note 2: This is for those who have daddy issues in general (°▽°)
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lisharchivez ¡ 8 months ago
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New Habit[Daily]❄️1oo days special chat with Zayne : all possible outcomes
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Requirements not an affinity reward
You will get this chat after you have spent time with /known Zayne for 100days.
It will be applicable even if you don't have 100day login achievement because the day count starts after you unlock "My room" with him .So its based on Love Timelines day count
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❄️He starts the Chat
And you have a set of options
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❄️Outcomes
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❄️Next options
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❄️Outcomes
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❄️Next options
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❄️Outcomes
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You get Two achievement Title by the end of it
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*chat ends*
what options did you choose ?
Please like & re-blog, Help me reach more Lads players who might want to know these
Curious about other posts and chats outcomes from zayne ,sylus and others ? Checks more in my pinned.
Like & follow for more.
The end ;)
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ozzgin ¡ 10 months ago
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More of the yandere monster???? Like their married life, him being such a cutie cutie and the reader is a willing person to his yandere tendencies. Like him physically fighting someone for flirting with her for .01 second and her just being 😍🥰
Alright anon, seeing as this has once again resurfaced, I'll cover a little bit of marital life as per your suggestion. (I'm hoping you're referring to the older sibling monster)
Yandere! Monster Husband x Reader
A little change of plans and the wedding you've been kidnapped for continued without a hitch, except you married the monstrous sibling instead. Made for an awkward celebratory dinner, but no one dared to oppose the Beast.
Content: female reader, monster romance, mildly NSFW, saga of the monster hoe reader continues
[First part]
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The next family dinner was quiet. You couldn't help but wonder if your horniness had gone too far, slowly chewing your food and occasionally peeking at the ex-groom with remorseful eyes. Poor guy, you thought. "Well, it's quite convenient, isn't it?" he finally said, breaking the silence. The cutlery sounds paused, and you lifted your gaze again. The man flashed you a radiant smile, which emphasized his handsome features even more. "I mean, we weren't sure we'd ever find a wife for my brother. He has a bit of an attitude, and even monsters are afraid of him. The only marriage attempt-" his speech was interrupted by a grunt, and you turned towards your monstrous boyfriend. The older sibling was frowning, visibly embarrassed. "Oh, I remember!" the mother of the siblings, a halfling herself, suddenly chuckled into her glass, taking a generous sip before continuing: "We'd arranged for a fellow monster to meet him, and the poor soul got so frightened she blended in with the background! Took us two days to find her! She came from a chameleon family, I recall."
Everyone at the table began to laugh and you joined, although with a mild annoyance tinged into your voice. So what, there was no reason for you to be plagued by guilt? You even refused a night escapade with your boyfriend until things "settled", as a way to be respectful towards the cucked party. All for naught. At least now you could be ravaged without further consequences. When the mother in law had pulled you aside hours earlier to make sure you weren't coerced into this arrangement, you had to hold back from crassly confessing you'd slurp her son empty of fluids at any hour of the day. Some things are better left untold.
Unfortunately, one detail couldn't be changed in time: the guest list. As this had been an event meant to strengthen the ties between humans, no one outside of the immediate family graced the venue with their monstrous presence. Many guests were intrigued by the outcome of the affair, terribly curious to see the famed wife-to-be of the gruesome, feared Head of the royal army. Even more so once they discovered it was a regular human by all means. "Fascinating!", the old ladies would occasionally cry out, clutching the plump, expensive pearls adorning their necks. You had to frequently excuse yourself in order to dodge the rather indecent questions regarding your relationship. Except when you did manage to sneak away, one of the younger men of names and titles you never registered would approach you for a dance. "Truly a pitiful matter", they'd whisper much too close to your ear. "You would've made a lovely bride for a fellow human."
"You're unexpectedly calm about this", the prince mentioned to his older brother at some point during the wedding night. "Are you not bothered by all the acquaintances flocking to your bride?" The monster shook his head with a sigh. He hadn't known you for that long yet, but one thing he was certain of: it's not humans he needed to fear.
Indeed, having a wife with a monster kink is particularly challenging when most of the husband's work involves similar creatures. The first months after the marriage were stalked by the insidious doubt that his luck was just that: mere coincidence. Would you have displayed the same interest had he not been the only beast at the table? Would you still pick him in a room full of monsters? Such questions followed him each day, feeding into an ever-growing jealousy.
"What are you doing here!", he exclaimed in despair once he noticed your arrival at his training camp. "You forgot your lunch", you explained, eyebrows raised in confusion. Oh, for fuck's sake. He quickly pulled you away, glaring at the subordinates startled by the commotion. They must've been eyeing (Y/N) like rabid dogs, he thought. Next thing you know, you'll be scooped away by some horned scoundrel. He can't have that.
Initially, the rage-filled, obsession-driven fuck you'd receive almost daily was welcomed with shameless begging. The way your monster husband would pin you down under his claws and thrust into you so hard, you could see its movement in waves across your stomach. The way he'd forcefully spread your legs, hungrily sinking his nails into the soft flesh of your thighs and gnawing your shoulders in delirious need. The tears that sheepishly formed in the corners of your hooded eyes would only incite him more. "Bite onto my hand if you can't take it anymore", he'd coo without stopping. As much as you liked to be left a limp, drooling mess, the soreness grew unbearable. Enough was enough when you found yourself carrying a cushion to sit down on any surface.
"Listen, we need to have a talk." You greeted him solemnly once he returned from his military duties. Oh, no. Absolutely not. The monstrous husband bit his lips in panic, immediately going through a mental list of all his subordinates. Or was it someone in the family that slithered their way into your heart? Is that what it was about, that you'd found a different creature? No matter, you weren't going anywhere. "I don't want to hear about it", he declared dramatically. "I have a bruised cervix!" you shouted in disbelief. "Huh?" He stared at you. "It hurts even when I lay down, man. You have to tone it down. At least for a little while."
Ah. Awkward. You noticed his flinch, and patted the empty seat next to you. "What did you think I was going to say?" The bench groaned under the weight of his gargantuan body. Hands folded in his lap like a punished schoolboy, your husband began to narrate the tale of his seething envy and frenzied passion for you. You must understand, he's never cared for anyone as much. To hell with duty and honor, he would kill his own father if his touch on you lingered one second longer than permitted. "Alright, but you must control yourself a little", you reminded him gently. "Never, my urge to obliterate any threat in my path is insatiable", he concluded with vehemence. "Yes, yes, that I understand. The sex, I mean", you gesticulated. "Of course. My apologies, I got sidetracked."
Somehow, he didn't expect to leave this conversation with a cathartic approval of his possessiveness. "Surely you must be upset by my fanatical behavior", he suggested meekly. "Oh no, it's part of your charm", you reassured him with a smile. "It's just not that sustainable in bed without the occasional break." You pat your stomach to express your misfortune.
Sadly, your monster fucking dreams must adhere to the laws of biology.
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i2sunric ¡ 5 months ago
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𝐖𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 (p.sh)
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PAIRING: knight!sunghoon x queen!reader (f)
SUMMARY: after your parents death, you were forced to be crowned queen of the north realm and decided to take a young sergeant as your personal guard. however, you can’t ignore the evident tension between the two of you, that will lead to some… illicit affairs. well, it never happened if nobody knows, right?
WARNINGS: 1800s au. mentions of war and death, fencing terms, sexual tension, unprotected sex (they didn’t have condoms, did they?), masturbation, dirty talk, missionary, fingering, cream pie, angst if you squint (like, really squint), mentions of scars, pet names (sweetheart), i abused the world ‘would’. i know. lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.
PUBLISHED: 20th August 2024
WC: 6k
TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey y @destinyhoon (oneshot) @indigoez @astratlantis @shuichi-sama @skaterhoon @simsungsims @hoonatic @sammie217 @hoonics @kissesforthefangirl @woorcve @laurradoesloveu @capri-cuntz @whateverhoon @woninluv @cyjhhyj @alienqbrain BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED.
NOW PLAYING: War Of Hearts by Ruelle
a/n: honestly, i don’t like it. the idea was good, the outcome not so, but let me know your thoughts. i literally don’t know old english, my knowledge comes from pride and prejudice and bridgerton, im sorry (i gave up by the end and it shows). please LIKE & REBLOG (or don’t, cause this is the worst fic i’ve ever written lol)
You hadn’t realised just how drastically your life could change overnight until you woke up to the news that your father, the ever so powerful king of the North realm, had died in war.
Soon, your teachers were making you learn about strategies and alliances, not about history anymore, your legions kneeled before you, ready to be at your service.
You had to watch your mother, the woman you looked up to, being consumed by the grief of her dead husband until the grim reaper decided to make them reunite.
Leaving you all alone. Helpless, bearing a burden so heavy it crashed your shoulders.
In just the span of a month you found yourself leading a kingdom through war, sending hundreds of warriors to their death sentence.
The crown weighed significantly on your head, your desk was full of scrambled letters and quills dripping ink, and if it wasn’t for your most-trusted maid, Ella, you would’ve certainly already died of hunger, leaving your people without a ruler.
Fortunately, the same day of your coronation, the first day of you being a queen was also the first day of a young sergeant.
He was the youngest of all, just like you being the youngest of the monarchs, and was leading the loyal legion.
Doing a better job than you, you had to say. He was diligent, perfect in his tasks and polite whenever you interpellated him.
His name was Park Sunghoon, and it didn’t take much for you to nominate him as your personal royal guard.
He was an attractive man, barely a couple of years older than you but he indeed towered you by much.
Sunghoon’s face was sharp, with a defined jawline and hardly any trace of baby-fat left.
Despite his frail appearance, you knew he had defined muscles hidden under his white guard uniform, you had seen it.
Even if you were busy with your tight schedule, especially after your coronation, you still found the time to peek at him.
In the morning he’d train the royal legions, helping new warriors. In the afternoon, he would follow you through your travels around the realm, visiting villages and other castles.
The days you stayed at the castle he’d occupy his afternoons by doing some training alone and some evenings he would stand out of your bedroom to guard.
And Sunghoon? Well, he was as attracted to you as you were.
It always sent jolts of excitement whenever he was around you, walking you to your activities and always keeping an eye for possible harms.
Especially one day, when Ella ran towards him with a bucket full of water when he was guarding your bedroom “Sergeant!” She panted, “Please, would you be so kind to bring this into her majesty’s room? I need to get another one.”
Sunghoon was quick to nod “Of course.” He replied politely and took the heavy — for her, not so for him — bucket from her hands.
Ella sincerely thanked him and hurried away to complete her task while the young guard opened your bedroom door.
When his eyes raised to your figure, he saw you standing there… naked. Probably expecting your maid to enter and certainly not your personal guard.
Your hands quickly shot to cover your dignity, your cheeks tinting a deep shade of pink as you breathed “Dear lord.”
Had he been more reckless, he would’ve dropped the bucket, but he managed to keep his polite demeanour.
“My sincere apologies, my lady, I should’ve knocked.” He turned slightly to the side so as not to look at you, but still managed to peek from the corner of his eye.
“D-doesn’t matter..” You murmured, reaching for the nightgown on the chair of the desk and quickly slipping it on “I just didn’t expect it to be… you, sergeant.”
Sunghoon nodded, “Where do you want me to place this?” He asked, raising the container of water.
You stepped aside, hugging your arms like you were afraid your nightgown could reveal your body to him once more. Not like he would complain.
“Inside the tub would be great.” You replied, watching as he lifted the bucket and dropped the hot water in it.
Sunghoon dared to look at you only then, bowing his head slightly “I apologise again. I did not wish to make you uncomfortable.”
You let out a small breath and offered him a warm smile. You were always so kind and thoughtful to everyone, it made him want to lock those who dared to criticise you in the dungeons and make them all perish.
“Worry not,” Your voice was gentle, like a ray of sunshine through the storm “I forgive you, after all, it was an accident.”
Sunghoon thought that if he ever had the chance to take a glimpse at your perfect, naked body, he would’ve taken it right away.
But he chose against letting you know and opted for a “Thank you, my queen.” He bowed, “Anything else you need for me?”
“No, thank you.” You said “You can go back to your duty.”
He nodded and headed to the door, hesitating for a second and then walked out.
The image of your naked body was hard to remove from his mind. Sergeant.
Your curves, your dips, the colour of your skin, your breasts and your pretty pussy… Sergeant?
He wondered what you would feel like if he touched you, tasted you— “Sergeant!”
The voice of one of the royal guards snapped Sunghoon out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat “Yes?”
“It’s my turn,” He said, his eyes blinking faintly “Are you feeling alright?”
“Yes, worry not.” Sunghoon nodded and gave his farewell to the guard before walking to his chamber.
Since you had labelled him worthy of being your personal knight, his bedroom was in the same wing as yours, unlike all the other knights in the legion that stayed in the West wing.
He entered his chamber and closed the door behind his back, the room was dark except for the moonlight shining from the window.
It was better that way, he enjoyed the natural light, rather than the artificial one from the candles that also smelled bad and spread smoke in the room.
Sunghoon sighed, quickly removing his uniform to put on some more comfortable clothes, some black pants and a white, sleeved shirt.
He dropped down on the bed, another quiet sigh leaving his lips.
He rested one of his arms behind his head while he played mindlessly with the laces of his shirt.
It was stronger than him, his mind kept replaying the same scene over and over again.
Your body.
Perhaps, it was that you were so modest, despite literally being the ruler of the kingdom, or it was the fact that you were literally his type.
But he was drawn to you, the same way a donkey was to the apple in front of him. Maybe not the best example, but you get it.
At the thought of your flushed face, he felt his pants growing tighter. At your plump and tender lips, he palmed himself to soothe his growing desire.
At the memory of your perky nipples and your breasts, his hand slipped inside his trousers until he pulled them down to his ankles.
Sunghoon knew he couldn’t be loud, but the soft whimpers and groans that left his lips weren’t contained.
He imagined it was your hand, the one providing him relief, that you were down on your knees, batting your eyelashes at him.
“Oh yes, you’re so good.” He whispered, squeezing the base of his thick cock, it twitched.
The tip was angry red as he heavenly stroked it, never focusing on one place more than the other.
If it were you, would you lick his tip? Would you squeeze his balls and take him in your mouth?
Would you ever fit him all?
“Take my cock,” He groaned, thrusting his hips upward to fuck his fist “Take it like a good girl.”
He pressed two fingers on the tip of his length, edging himself “You like to tease, my lady?”
So many filthy scenes played in his mind, keeping him company as he felt the sweet sensation in his lower stomach.
“I’m so close, sweetheart.” He groaned, moving his hand so fast it almost hurt his wrist “You want it on your breasts? Of course.” He kept moving until he saw white, “Take it.”
He was left spent, dirty white all over his sheets as he tried to even his breath.
Sunghoon fell asleep with a smile on his face that night, and he woke up even better after you visited his dreams and showed him how much you wanted him.
…Too bad it wasn’t real, right?
𓆩♡𓆪
After your little and awkward interaction with Sunghoon, the previous evening, you decided to go find him during his late afternoon training.
You would’ve lied if you were to say it didn’t turn you on, the thought of being seen by him in such an intimate manner. But that, he mustn’t know.
He was wearing a black sleeved shirt and a pair of trousers of the same colour, a great contrast with his skin.
You quietly tip-toed, walking towards as he stroked in the air with the fencing sword.
His movements were calculated, precise and so mesmerising you hadn’t even realised you were right behind him until the blade stopped right beside your jugular.
You gulped “Good evening.” Sunghoon widened his eyes and quickly placed himself into a more polite position, removing the swords from your neck “I'm so sorry, my lady, I didn’t see you coming.”
You just smiled at him “You seem excellent at fencing.” You commented, your fingertips trailing the blade of the sword, careful not to cut yourself.
“Fencing is one of my favourite parts of training, my queen.” He replied, his tone serious.
You hummed “Is that so?” The way the sunset kissed his skin, how his hair was perfectly combed and matched with his fit looked straight out of the erotic novels you hid under your bed.
“I’ve always wanted to learn this type of art.” You informed him “Though, it would be too scandalous for a woman to do it, wouldn’t it?”
Sunghoon’s gaze was soft as he commented “There’s nothing scandalous in wanting to be able to defend yourself.” He threw you a french sword “Even if you have a whole legion before you.”
You swiftly caught it, circling around Sunghoon while he did the same.
“Nah ah,” He was quick to correct “Eyes on the enemy’s, never on the sword.” You diverted your gaze from the sword to his chocolate, warm eyes.
“Great,” Sunghoon praised. “You must study your enemy if you have the time, watch his body language.”
He stroked again and you barely missed it. A second time and you docked it.
At the third, you blocked it “You slightly blink your right eye when you strike.”
Sunghoon smiled proudly, “Yes, that’s right.” You squealed happily, making him slightly widen his eyes.
If it wasn’t the best sound he’d ever heard.
“Now, your strike isn’t bad, especially in second and third, but your position can be better.” He dropped his sword and walked behind you.
“Bend your knees.” He commanded and you obliged again, following his instructions “Your arm shouldn’t stay that far… tilt your elbow.”
“Your back is already straight,” His fingers trailed the laces of your corset, feeling your spine underneath them “But your chin should be tilted… like this.” He tipped your chin up with his index finger.
“How about how?” You whispered breathlessly, feeling the coldness of his skin against your burning one.
“Better, but not perfect.” Sunghoon replied and quickly put space between the two of you “Still, you’re one of my best students.”
You smiled happily and was about to reply when Ella called you from afar because dinner was being served.
You sighed “I must go.” You said, slightly hoping he would keep you with him.
However, obviously, he just nodded and bowed. “It has been a pleasure, my lady.”
As he watched you walk away, he hoped you hadn’t felt the proof of his desire pressed against your back when he fixed your position… the proof he had to fix before anyone could notice.
𓆩♡𓆪
Sunghoon’s footsteps echoed through the dark hallway as he made his way to your room. He wasn’t sure about the reason as to why you called him, given the fact that he was supposed to be patrolling the main gates, but it seemed clear when he noticed you had already sent the guard outside your room to rest.
He stood in front of your bedroom door, the hallway only dimly lit by the few candles on the walls.
There was something in his mind that told him he was still in time to turn his heels and simply ignore your late-night visit request, even if it would eventually get him in trouble.
Still, he aight and placed his hand on the doorknob, quietly opening your bedroom door and entering.
Out of precaution, he locked the door behind him and made a few steps towards you, nevertheless keeping some distance.
“My queen,” Sunghoon began, “I thought you’d be asleep by now.” His tone was quiet, almost concerned.
You were standing in front of the large window that gave you a nice view of the royal gardens, the moonlight illuminating the room as well as a few candles on the tables.
Despite the late hours, you were still wearing your pistachio green gown, your favourite one. The one that once belonged to your mother.
It gave you a sense of comfort, reminiscing the days where you would drown in the fabric as you played queen and princess with her.
You deeply wished it was still a game.
“I’ve been having trouble sleeping.” You replied, still giving him your back.
Sunghoon cleared his throat. Yes, he’d seen you in that gown the same morning, but now, in the intimacy of your chamber, it made him want to drop to his knees.
He made his way so that he was standing just a few steps behind you “Any particular reason for your lack of sleep?” He inquired.
You sighed softly. The moon made your doe eyes sparkle, as if they held the stars in them, “Perhaps, thoughts of the upcoming war.”
Sunghoon’s hands hitched to hold yours, to give you the comfort you needed without any paternal figure to rely on.
Still, he kept them clasped behind his back. The need to be respectful of your position was still in the front of his mind.
“It is not confirmed yet,” He tried to reassure “The other kingdoms may decide not to attack anymore.”
You tried to find reassurance in his words, but even if your people thought so, you weren’t naïve. “They killed my father,” You gulped. “It’s just a matter of time before they come at me next.”
And that was true, everytime you ever tried to close your eyes to seek some rest, your mind would play any possible scenario.
You being slayed, you being beheaded… your kingdom going in flames.
“No one will touch you,” His voice was soothing, like a hand pulling you out of deep water, preventing you from drowning “Not while I’m here.”
You finally allowed yourself to look at him, afraid that if you did it the second you heard the key of your room twisting you would’ve kissed him.
His hair was still perfectly in place, his forehead in sight. His porcelain-like skin glowing under the rays of the moon, caressing his cheeks.
You offered him a polite smile “You seem confident, sergeant.”
Sunghoon let the briefest of a smile form on his lips “Confidence comes with the job,” He said, softly “It is my duty to protect you, my queen, and I take that very seriously.
“What else does your job offer?” You asked, fully turning your body towards him “Apart from private fencing lessons and a twenty-four-seven guarding.”
His breath hitched slightly when you stood in front of him, he hadn’t even realised the vicinity you two had until he had to tilt his head down to stare at you. It would be so easy to reach out and touch you, to feel your skin against his hands.
Sunghoon’s gaze slowly dragged from your chest up to your face. “That’s it, mainly,” He said, his voice a little rougher than before. “Though… my duties extend to anything you ask of me, my queen.”
“Anything?” You murmured quietly, your eyes widening.
He wanted to touch you so badly, to pull you against him so he could kiss you and touch you anywhere and everywhere. But he had to keep the professional veil going, even though he knew you were baiting him.
He nodded, his eyes on yours “Anything at all.”
You batted your eyelashes, trying to seduce him without boldly doing so “Is that so, sergeant?”
Sunghoon’s jaw clenched, struggling to keep his composure and hoping you weren’t able to see the effect of your presence.
He took a deep breath before replying “Yes, anything you ask of me.”
You gulped, your heart pounding in your chest as you gathered the courage to put into action your plan “I believe I need to unwind,” You stated “Any ideas?”
Sunghoon’s mind was immediately flooded with ideas, most of them very, very inappropriate for the moment. He bit his lip and tried to keep a straight face.
He considered keeping up the professional front but quickly decided against it. He was tired of forcing himself to maintain control.
“I do have a few ideas, my queen,” He said, his voice a low rumble. “Mind sharing them with me?” You asked.
Sunghoon stepped closer to you, so close that your bodies were almost touching. “My ideas may not be entirely appropriate, my queen,” He replied, “Would you like to hear them anyway?”
You closed briefly your eyes, just the brief feeling of his body near yours sending jolts of fire through your veins “I’m all ears.”
His eyes roamed over your face and body, taking in every single detail. He was practically salivating, desperate to touch you in any way possible.
Sunghoon leaned even closer, his breath now hot on your skin. “I have things I'd like to do, my queen,” He whispered in your ear. “Wicked things, to distract you from your stress.”
You let out a shaky breath, shivering from head to toe “Wicked?” You questioned.
Sunghoon felt his control slip as chuckled slowly, “Oh, very wicked, my lady.”
He brought his lips to your neck, planting soft kisses up and down your skin, taking you by surprise.
However, he kept his hands firmly by his sides, restraining himself from wandering. “I want to do things that would be highly inappropriate for a sergeant to do to his queen.”
“And who says so?” You breathed out, aching for him, your eyes flattering closed.
Sunghoon hummed against your skin, his lips moving to your collarbone. “That would be the royal laws,” He replied quietly, “Among other things.”
“I could get punished for this, you know.” He said in between kisses. “My actions are considered disrespectful.”
“I could change the law,” You replied, hooking your arms around his neck “For the night.”
His hands immediately went to your hips, grabbing you and pulling you even closer to him. “Just for the night, my queen?” He murmured against your skin, his lips trailing kisses up your jaw “I might want more than just one night.”
You chuckled lowly, “How do you know so already, sergeant?”
sunghoon’s hands moved from your hips to your thighs, caressing them through your nightgown, his thumbs tracing patterns against your skin.
Sunghoon pulled back to look at you, his eyes darkened significantly. “I'm quite sure, my queen,” He said, “The things I want to do to you are not something I can do just once.”
You shivered at his words, and the hungry way he was shamelessly looking at you. It almost seemed unreal, the polite soldier losing his cool in front of you, “How about you show me what you can do tonight, first?”
He looked at you, his gaze dark and intense, before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours in a rough kiss.
You moaned and gripped his shoulders tightly and he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth desperately, like he was starving.
You tip toed, desperate to reach for him, to feel his lips on yours and make you forget all the duties you had.
Sunghoon chuckled against your lips, amused by your struggle to reach his height. He pulled back, a smirk on his face. “Too short for me, my queen?”
Without warning, he lifted you up with ease, and he continued the kiss.
You wrapped your legs around his waist to steady yourself, thanking yourself for not having worn an underskirt that would’ve made it impossible for you to straddle him.
Sunghoon groaned against your mouth as you wrapped your legs around his waist, the kiss becoming more desperate and rougher.
He moved his lips from your mouth and attacked your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and bites as he went. One of his hands moved from your thigh to your butt, squeezing it appreciatively.
You groaned and let your head fall back, goosebumps filling your skin in reaction to his lips.
Your fingers tried to tug his blue uniform jacket, desperate to remove any clothing between the two of you.
He gently helped you to remove it, chuckling against your neck at your eagerness.
You rocked your hips, needing to feel him, to soothe the aching sensation between your legs.
He pressed his own hips back onto yours, you could feel the proof of his desire for you, secluded in his pants.
“You have no idea how hard it is not to take you right now,” He thrust upwards, making you gasp.
“What’s stopping you, sergeant?” You asked breathlessly, you knew he was trying to restrict himself, to draw a line that shouldn’t be crossed.
But you didn’t care, all you had in mind was how good his touch was on your skin, his lips on yours and how better it would’ve been if he was inside you.
“Nothing,” Sunghoon whispered in your ear, his breath causing your body to shiver “Absolutely nothing, as long as you’re not opposed to it.”
You chuckled, looking down at yourself “Does it look like I’m against it?”
Your sweet laugh only made him madder and he kissed you, tasting your lips “No, not at all, my queen.”
“Then, take me.” You whispered on his lips, your hand caressing down his arm, still clothed from his sleeved shirt.
Sunghoon shivered under your touch, your words breaking the last strand of self-restraint he had. He grabbed your hips, suddenly carrying you to the bed and dropping you down on it.
He quickly dropped to his knees between your legs, his hands on either side of you, trapping you in “You won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” He warned.
Your hair formed a halo around your head, spread around the mattress. Your chest was heaving up and down as you replied, “That's fine by me.”
Sunghoon hummed appreciatively at the sight of you splayed out on the bed underneath him. You looked divine, like an angel sent to drive him insane.
He connected his lips to yours once again, his hands moving behind your back as you propped yourself on your elbows.
His skilled fingers worked on the laces of your corset, undoing them.
You frowned, pulling away “Experienced much?”
Sunghoon chuckled softly as he got the corset undone, pulling the fabric off you and discarding it on the floor.
He shook his head before replying, a smirk on his lips. “Just a few,” He said. “and I have been fantasising about this moment for a while now.”
“Have you?” You whispered, your hands caressing his chest, where the v-neckline of the shirt exposed it “Have you thought about me late at night, sergeant?”
Sunghoon sighed softly, his eyes closing briefly as he confessed “Yes,” He said “Every night I’ve wondered what you would taste like, how soft you were, what your moans sounded like.”
His words only made you bolder. “Have you touched yourself wishing it was me?”
Now that the corset wasn’t restricting your air capacity, it also made the dress fall down your shoulder, exposing them to him.
He leaned down and pressed gentle kisses on your skin, trailing them up to your ear “Yes, my queen. I’ve touched myself wishing it was you, craving your body and soul.”
You let out a shaky breath, the sweet sensation warming your lower stomach “Perhaps, I have done the same.”
Sunghoon groaned loudly against your skin, his body shuddering at your confession “You’ve touched yourself, thinking about me?”
You flopped back onto the mattress and hummed “Yes.”
He was completely losing it, the thought of you touching yourself, thinking about him, driving him crazy. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to regain some composure.
“Tell me more,” He rasped, his voice a low rumble. “Tell me what you've done, what you've imagined."
You bit your bottom lip, afraid to voice out your late night secrets.
“Go on, my queen.” His voice was soft and soothing, his hips just barely pressing against yours “I won’t judge you, I can’t… Can I?” He let out a quiet chuckle.
You breathed out “I’ve thought about your fingers,” You gulped “Touching me in places no one has touched before.”
“Where?” He whispered, his nose grazing your cheek “Tell me.”
Instead of speaking, you took his hand and slowly guided it down your body, you were still covered by your dress but he could still feel your core beating under his touch.
So, in one swift movement he placed his hand under your skirt, feeling just how damp your underthings were, making you gasp.
“You’re so wet for me.” He murmured, “Is this how you are around me?”
You nodded, all drops of self awareness down the drain.
Sunghoon smirked, taking your hand with his free one and placing it on the front of his pants, making you feel his hard on “That’s what you do to me.”
Amazed, you started to palm him, letting your hand feel “I do?”
“Yes,” He whispered, his hips bucking against your touch “All the time.”
“Please,” You pleaded, “I can’t take it anymore, I really need you.”
Sunghoon sighed “There’s no turning back from this, my queen..”
“Y/N.” You blurted out, eyes taking in his reaction.
Without having you to explain, he knew what you meant. You wanted him to call you by your name, crossing a boundary that would be hard to build back.
Still, he reached behind your back and unzipped your dress, slowly slipping it down.
You laid underneath it, the only thing separating you from him was your lace underwear, your upper body bare for him to see.
Sunghoon rested his chest on yours, his fingers grazing your clothed core as he whispered in your ear “Y/N.” Making you moan.
You nodded, your arms wrapping around his neck to steady yourself “Sunghoon.” You breathed back.
“Y/N..” He murmured, slipping your panties to the side and teasing your entrance with his digits “My pretty, pretty girl.”
Your eyes flickered closed, senses awakened by his single touch.
“You’ve never done this?” He questioned, gathering all your juices in his fingers, your pussy clenching around nothing.
You shook your head, your mind already a puddle of nothing “No.”
“Then I need to get you all nice and lose, mh?” Sunghoon murmured, inserting one of his fingers inside your wet folds.
You gasped, your back arching against him at the intrusion “Oh lord.”
The sensation was so new but so welcome, you had never really dared to finger yourself, your orgasms were given by clit stimulation only, so when his digit thrust into you, your body jolted with each one.
Sunghoon’s lips attached to your left breath, tongue swirling around your nipple and you thought you couldn’t feel any better until he curled his fingers and found your sweet spot, making you moan out loud.
“Shh,” He cooed, pressing one hand on your mouth while his teeth gently grazed your abused nipple. “You don’t want anyone to find out what we’re doing, don’t you?”
You were quick to shake your head, but as he thrust a second finger in your pussy, you grunted.
One of your hands went to the back of his head, your fingers knotting his perfectly combed hair “S-sunghoon.”
You bucked your hips up, needing him to stop and continue at the same time “Feels so good.”
Sunghoon chuckled lowly, both his fingers brushing against your sweet spot “I know, Y/N.” He murmured “Let me take care of you.”
You nodded mindlessly; you thought that even if he asked you to hand over the kingdom you would’ve nodded anyways.
You whimpered, your other hand digging in the flesh of his shoulders from the amount of pleasure you were feeling.
“I’ve got you.” He whispered, brushing his thumb on your bundle of nerves “Relax.”
You could feel the knot in your stomach tighten with each thrust of his fingers, just a brief pain from the intrusion making your head spin.
“Oh lord,” You breathed out, “I think I—“ Another broken whimper left your mouth.
Sunghoon nodded, understanding you and crashed his lips on yours, drowning your moans in.
Another thrust of his fingers got you falling apart under him, your whole body trembling.
It took a good couple of minutes and his soothing words to calm you down, your breath still laboured but at least you could keep your body still.
You opened your eyes back and met his own, he offered you a sweet smile “You’re perfect.��� He whispered, kissing your forehead.
You smiled back at him, slowly releasing your strong grip around his neck. “This has been… amazing.”
“I’m glad, my— Y/N.” Sunghoon quickly corrected himself, “But… we don’t have to do anything more.”
You frowned, worry coating your features “Was it because you didn’t feel good? I can help—“
He was fast to shake his head. “No, of course not.” He caressed your cheek “I just don’t want to overwhelm you.”
“You will not.” You sat up, looking inside his eyes to convince him “I want it, Sunghoon, I want it with my whole body and soul.”
He closed his eyes and dropped his head, as if he physically restrained himself from reaching out to you and take you in all the ways someone can be taken.
“I want you so much it’s driving me insane,” He breathed out, resting his forehead against your chest “My sweetheart, I would love to make you mine… will you allow me to?”
You nodded “Yes, please.” You tugged at his shirt, needing him to remove it.
Sunghoon complied, tossing it to the floor as well as his trousers, leaving himself bare to you.
At first, you hadn’t understood why he was so reluctant to be intimate with you, but as soon as your eyes met his bare chest, you did.
Your breath hitched at the sight of a wide scar all across his chest, looking like half a cross.
“Sunghoon…” You whispered, your fingers trailed over it. He flinched but quickly relaxed under your gentle touch “What happened to you?”
His eyes were so vulnerable and he looked like a lost boy, not like the sergeant of a legion. “I will just say that I had a close contact with a blade, back when I was still training to become a knight.”
He gulped “I understand if I repulse you—“
“No,” You quickly took his face in your hands “No. You’re beautiful.”
He frowned, as if not understanding what would you ever find beauty in such a scar.
Seeing that he wasn’t believing you, you laid on your back and wrapped your arms around his neck, taking him down with you.
Your hand reached to pump his shaft and it was as if he died and came to life again, nothing like those nights he touched himself thinking about you, could prepare him from this.
You slowly aligned him with your folds and nodded, wanting him to make the first move.
He let out a pained sigh and gripped your waist, finally pushing in you.
You were still wet from the foreplay and as well as your cum, but it didn’t mean you didn’t feel some pain from his thickness.
He moved slowly, his breath fanning your cheeks while he brushed his nose against your skin.
“How does it feel?” Sunghoon whispered in your ear “Mh? Tell me, Y/N.”
Your skin was sweaty and hot, “So good.” You murmured back, tightening your hold on his neck “Faster, please.”
You begged him so sweetly and politely he couldn’t refuse, his hips moving against yours slightly faster “You want to make love?” He questioned “Or do you want me to take you like how I’ve wanted since I laid my eyes on you?”
“Take me.” You choked out, your eyes squeezing from the pleasure “Hard, I don’t care.”
Sunghoon circled your waist with his arm and held you tightly against him, you could feel the shadow of his scar on your chest.
His hips snapped on yours so fast even the bed started creaking, and you secretly hoped no servant was walking by to hear your show.
“Open up.” Sunghoon said and you obliged, opening your mouth.
He gathered some saliva in his mouth before spitting in yours, watching as it went down your throat.
You hummed, gulped it, tasting him “Jesus Christ.” He shook his head, his cock twitching inside of you.
“I don’t think I can last longer.” He squeezed his eyes, his fingers digging in your hips as he tried to restrain himself.
“Don’t you dare unless I cum again.” Your fingers went to stroke your bundle of nerves fast “Together.”
Sunghoon hummed, his own movements getting sloppy but never faltering as he chased his high.
“Y/N.” He groaned, one of his nails piercing your skin, adding just the right amount of pain to send you over the edge.
“Now!” You cried out, your body shaking with your second orgasm of the night.
Sunghoon let out a deep growl and emptied his seed in you, coating your clenching walls.
“So perfect.” He kissed the top of your head, his voice soothing after the intensity of the night “You’re perfect.”
He got up and took a napkin from your table, carefully cleaning your legs while also prepping kisses on your inner thighs.
You were sure that if your body wasn’t tired you would’ve mounted him.
Sunghoon reached into his clothes but your hand darted out to stop him “Stay.”
His eyes softened, pondering between staying or leaving. He opted for the first.
You had never felt happier than falling asleep with the sound of his heartbeat next to your ear, aimlessly hoping it wouldn’t be the last time.
But your relationship made it so that he was forced to peel himself away from you when he thought you were asleep, gathering his clothes and quietly slipping out of your room.
And it was the best decision, soon, you would’ve had to find a husband, make an heir for your real, rule it with all your attention.
Good thing, late night was made to unwind, and it never happened if nobody knew… did it?
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marvelouslizzie ¡ 1 year ago
Text
Pretty Little Thing - co-written with @notafunkiller
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Summary: Your long-time crush, Bucky Barnes, is a regular at the bar where you work, and tonight, it's impossible to avoid serving him for the first time.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Warnings: +18, alcohol, oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 3.8K
A/N: @notafunkiller and I merged our separate ideas into one and this is the outcome. It was so much fun to write. We hope it'll me the same while reading too.
All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.
Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.
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You thought this night would be calm and easy, that nothing significant would happen. All that changed when Bucky Barnes set foot in the bar. It’s not his first time here by any means, but until now you successfully managed to avoid him by asking the other bartender to serve his side. This time, unfortunately, you are working alone. It’s a slow night, so there’s no way you can really avoid him.
You watch him find an empty place and sit down, and you really don’t know what to do. You can feel yourself sweating already. You are so nervous. Not because you are afraid of him or anything. He doesn’t look scary. Not to you. You are afraid to embarrass yourself in front of him, but you should be able to ask for his order and serve it without messing it up. That’s not so hard. 
Just keep it simple, you tell yourself.
“Hey, what can I get you?”
Bucky looks up from his phone straight into your eyes, and you freeze a little.
“Hello, do you... a draft beer, please.”
His answer confuses you. That’s not his usual order. 
“You sure you don’t want something stronger? We have that bourbon.” You curse yourself internally for paying attention and not being able to hold your tongue.
He raises his eyebrow surprised. “How do you know that? There is no way you served me any drinks cause I would remember you.”
He frowns as soon as he finishes speaking. Maybe you helped your colleague or maybe you were informed about what he drinks just in case he showed up. He’s still the Winter Soldier after all.
“I never served you before.” You say with a shy smile. You hope this is enough of an answer for him.
“Do I look like a bourbon man?” He asks playfully before giving you a smile that transforms his face a little, softening his features. 
“You look like you enjoy quality stuff, and between you and me, our draft beer is shitty.”
That comment makes him chuckle. You’re so distracted by his face that you don’t notice how his eyes fall straight to your breasts.
“Thanks for the tip. Normal beer then?”
“If you insist.” You smile and open the small fridge under the bar where you keep some of the beers. You quickly open it and put it right in front of him, not realizing that gesture shows off your bartender skills a little bit.
He doesn’t look away from you as he takes a big sip before placing the bottle on the table quickly.
“For how long have you been working here?”
“For the past year.” You avoid making eye contact while drying some of the freshly washed glasses.
“Oh.” He sounds kind of taken aback. “I’m surprised you never served me. I’ve been coming here for what? Seven months?”
“Eight.” You bite your bottom lip as soon as the word slips out, trying to shut yourself up so you won’t mess up even more. What were you thinking? Well, you weren't…
His eyes immediately glow, and you wonder if you fucked up for good.
“So you’ve been keeping an eye on me?” He brings the bottle to his mouth and before you can say anything, you watch him finishing it in one go.
“I just noticed you.” Of course, you kept an eye on him, but you played it down a little.
“Well, I didn’t notice you,” he says regretfully. “And I wonder how. I am pretty aware of my surroundings... especially if they are full of beautiful people like you.”
You can’t help but blush, yet you try to sound unaffected. You don’t know if you succeed or not, though.
“This place is usually so crowded and full of… people. So it’s normal.”
“Neah,” he denies immediately. “Have you been hiding or something?”
“I was just on the other side of the bar.” And you were trying to hide from him, saving yourself from this embarrassment because you knew if you talked to him you would fuck up. You were right.
“So I was on the wrong side this whole time.” He shakes his head. “Another beer, please, doll.”
“The same?” You ask while trying not to dwell on the pet name he uses.
“Yes, please. And one drink for you. Whatever you want, if you are allowed to drink, of course.”
The way he offers to buy you a drink surprises you. You feel quite nervous, but you try to maintain your calm. He’s probably just being nice, right? 
“I am allowed to drink, but that’s not necessary.”
He pouts. “I didn’t mean you need to talk to me for it, doll. There are no conditions for this drink.”
“Oh.” You didn’t even think he would take it this way. “That’s not why I said it’s not necessary. I wasn’t worried about that.”
“Okay. Whatever you want... I won’t insist.”
“It’s just… I am allowed to drink whatever I want. You don’t need to pay for it.” You try to explain so he won’t take it the wrong way.
“Alright,” he says, a little distant, as you open up another bottle of beer and put it in front of him. 
“I just didn’t want you to pay extra when I can get it for free.” You don’t know why you are explaining yourself like this. It’s normal not to accept drinks from customers.
“It’s fine, I totally understand. Thank you!” He reaches for the bottle immediately.
You take a fancy glass out of the rack and pour yourself one of the ready-to-serve cocktails that your colleague prepared, right in front of him. He doesn’t say anything as he keeps staring at your hands.
“Thanks for the drink.” You say while putting the bottle away.
“Me?” He asks surprised. “Thought this is on the bar.”
“Well, you gave me the idea, and if you really insist on spending your money so unnecessarily, who am I to stop you?”
“That’s a good attitude.” He smiles again before bringing his bottle close to your glass. “Cheers to a good Thursday in a lovely company.”
You clink your glass with a smile on your face. It seems like he finally understood your intention, so you feel relieved. 
“How does that taste?”
“Don’t let the color fool you, it tastes really strong but delicious.” You look at him for a second and notice that got his interest. “Wanna taste it?” You offer your own drink to him, and he contemplates for a few seconds before leaning in.
“Yes, I am curious.”
You hand the glass to him. Your fingers touch for a second, and you get so excited that you worry about dropping the glass. It’s like your heart is in your throat.
“Your hands are cold,” he comments casually before taking a sip right from the spot covered by your lipstick. You gasp. You have no idea if he did it on purpose, but the way he’s drinking it… your body is responding to that so much. You clear your throat, trying to calm yourself down. 
“Delicious.” He smiles, handing back your glass, and you notice a bit of lipstick in the corner of his mouth.
It creates this internal dilemma. Should you just let him know about it or act like nothing happened and let him walk around like this? The second one could cause him a lot of embarrassment, and you don’t wanna be the reason for that. That’s why you suddenly find yourself leaning closer to him, just to wipe the lipstick off. He doesn’t move an inch, not jumping like you would expect, letting you touch him. When you realize what you are doing, you suddenly feel super self-conscious. 
“You…” You gulp down. “You have… lipstick on… just here.” 
You keep rubbing your finger against the corner of his mouth. You feel his stubble and how soft his lips are, but you try not to think about it. He chuckles, covering your hand with his. It surprises you so much that you freeze for a second. Then you look into his eyes, struggling to see if you made him feel uncomfortable or not.
“So considerate of you. Thank you.”
You move your hand away from his mouth but not away from his touch. Somehow you can’t find the strength to do that. 
What he does next, though, makes you completely breathless. He brings your hand to his mouth again, but this time he presses his lips gently against your skin, smiling right after. Your eyes open with surprise, feeling completely speechless, yet you don’t move away. You don’t even realize you are smiling slightly.
“Your hands are still so cold.”
“Yeah…” You try to speak, but it feels like your words are stuck in your throat. “They are always cold.”
“We need to change that.” He places another kiss on your hand.
*
He’s surprisingly nervous as he leads you to the living room. Based on his confidence back in the bar, you didn’t expect him to become so shy all of a sudden.
“Do you want some coffee?”
“No.” You answer quickly. The only thing you want is to feel his lips again but you keep that thought to yourself.
“What do you want then?” 
It’s obvious in his tone and the way he looks at you he doesn’t ask you about drinks.
“You.” You can’t believe you said this out loud, but it’s the truth.
He doesn’t need another push as he comes closer, grabbing you by the chin. Your lips crash together with an almost desperate hunger. He takes the opportunity immediately, getting his tongue inside your mouth in a fervent exploration. The sensation is electrifying.
You let him explore your mouth while you focus on his taste. It’s so unique and tasty, you just can’t get enough of it. Your hands slowly move toward the back of his head, pulling him closer.
“Fuck,” he groans when he feels your touch, breaking the kiss just to move his lips to your neck. 
“Mhmm… James.” His lips feel so good against your neck. It just sends a jolt of arousal through your body.
But then he freezes, with his mouth glued to your neck. You open your eyes confused wanting to ask him what happened, and that’s when you realize what you’ve just said.
“You know who I am?” His voice is a warm whisper against your skin.
“Of course, I know who you are.” You make it sound so natural as if there’s no way you wouldn’t know who he is. “You think I go to the houses of men I don’t know?” You say playfully.
“I didn’t mean that...” He raises his head from the crook of your neck just to look you in the eye. “I didn’t mean it offensively, I just wasn’t sure. I’m just stupid, I didn’t expect it.”
“I know who you are, James Bucky Barnes.”
“Fuck,” he groans, bringing his thumb to your bottom lip. “Say it again.”
“James Bucky Barnes or just James?”
He kisses you more desperately than before, his hands finding your hips as he gently grabs them, pulling you so close that you can feel his erection. You gasp so softly, but he hears it anyway, and you settle on his hard cock so it’s right against where you want it to be.
He moans. “Let’s go to the bedroom, doll.”
“Why?” You ask innocently as if you don’t know what he means. “Isn’t your couch comfortable enough?”
For him? Sure. But for you?
“The bed is better.”
“Okay.” You sound so obedient suddenly as you wrap your legs around his torso.
He immediately lifts you up without effort, and you smile, letting him carry you toward his room. He’s a super soldier after all. He closes the door with his foot as soon as you’re inside, then he gently puts you on the bed, like he’s afraid you might break. The way he’s acting is so endearing, but you want him to let go really badly. Even the manner he starts to take off your pants is too gentle.
You let him undress you the way he wants, though. Then you move closer to him, taking his clothes off, your movements not as gentle as his. You are impatient and needy. You see him holding his breath when you reach to touch his chest, close to where his metal arm begins, so you lean in to leave a kiss right there. You don’t know if you are crossing a line, but you have to. He should know that this is not something that would bother you, on the contrary, it turns you on even more. When he doesn’t move away from you, you keep kissing around his scars and his chest. Your hand is on his shoulder, gently caressing.
 “That feels so good, doll,” he says with a sigh before he grabs your waist. “but it's time for me to eat.”
You find yourself on your back so suddenly that you don’t even have time to react. He quickly settles between your legs and you understand exactly what he meant. He lifts them enough so you can rest them on his shoulders as he gets more comfortable on his tummy. You feel a hole in your stomach immediately. You can’t believe Bucky is between your thighs, about to eat you out.
He’s taking his sweet time at first, kissing down your thighs and even smelling you before he finally brings his tongue to your entrance.
“Come on, James. Don’t tease me.” You look down just to see him smiling.
“Why not? You seem to enjoy it.”
“I would enjoy it more if you stopped teasing and started eating.”
Surprisingly, Bucky doesn’t waste more time and properly starts to fuck you with his tongue. He’s not too quick, nor too slow with his moves, and you’re shocked when he brings his fingers to your mouth. 
“Need you to make them wet for me, please.” Even while saying that, he sounded a little too polite.
“On one condition,” you say, looking directly into his eyes. “Stop acting like I am made of glass.”
“But you kinda are.”
“I am not. Believe me.”
He says nothing, making sure to lick your slit before getting his tongue inside you again, his fingers, glued to your lips. You take it as a silent agreement and you open your mouth, suck his fingers, and let him wet them. When he thinks it’s enough, he gently takes them out and brings them right to your clit. He doesn’t touch it directly at first, teasing around it until you move your hips a little, needing to feel your clit stimulated.
“Please.” The way he’s taking his sweet time is so frustrating.
He lets his hand drop and instead of feeling his fingers on your clit, you feel his tongue at the same time he gets a finger inside you. You moan loudly, finally getting what you wanted from the start.
His other hand reaches for yours when he hears you grabbing the sheet, and you immediately hold it, enjoying how his cold metal feels. When you feel the second finger and he scissors both of them inside you, you’re shocked by how close you suddenly are. You can’t help but arch your back and move your hips, needing it faster.
He reads the signals pretty quickly and lets you use his mouth while he keeps pumping his fingers. It doesn’t take long for you to gasp, moan, and start to shake because of the pleasure he’s giving you. 
“James! Shit. I’m- gonna… ahh… come.”
You moan louder than you expected, dropping your head against his sheets, possessed by a great wave of pleasure. You want to tell him not to stop anything, but you can’t. And you don’t need to as he keeps licking and fingering you while you ride your orgasm out, prolonging it as much as possible.
When it’s done, you are feeling so good yet you are hungry for more. You raise your head a little and see Bucky still between your legs, but this time his beard is covered with your slick. He looks so handsome. His blue eyes are shining and his hair is all messy. It makes you wanna kiss him and that’s exactly what you do. You reach down to him, and he meets you in the middle, kissing you the way he was just eating you out: with passion and hunger.
He’s less gentle than before as you feel his hands grabbing your breasts, but it’s still not enough. You cover his hands with yours and push him to grab them harder than before. You let out a muffled moan while kissing him.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.”
You find yourself blushing like you two aren’t having sex. To mask your reaction, you reach out to his hard cock, gently grabbing it.
“Oh god,” he groans as he instinctively squeeze your breasts harder.
“Mhmm, yes.” You lean into his touch. “Just like that.”
Bucky looks at you as if you said something shocking. Is he not used to communicating during sex?
“What? Did I do something wrong?”
“You’re surprising me for someone so delicate.”
“I told you, I am not.”
He smiles. “Do you wanna help me put on a condom then?”
“I would love to, but…” You smile. “What if I told you I am clean and on the pill?”
“Fuck, I need you.” He kisses you suddenly. “Now.”
“I am right here.” It sounds so calming. “You can take me however you want.”
You’re not only on your back in the next second, but you also have his cock lined up at your entrance.
“Jesus, doll! For a pretty little thing, you’re quite nasty.”
“I just know what I want.” And this is it.
He nods, wrapping your legs around his ass at the same time he pushes inside you. In a second, your head is thrown back while you moan loudly. The way he fills you is so delicious. It makes you feel so full but not uncomfortable.
“You’re taking me so well already.”
“Please…” You raise your hips to create more friction. “Please, move.”
He brings his mouth to your breast a little before he starts thrusting, making sure to leave a small hickey right on top of it. It hurts so good, and you moan without holding back. It is music to Bucky’s ears. He just wants to hear it again, so he does it again.
“You want it rough, don’t you?” He thrusts harder than before. “You’re so needy.”
“Yeah.” Your voice is so shaky already. “I told you already.”
“Told me what?” He teases. “I don’t remember.”
“That I am not made of glass.”
“No, you are made for me.” He brings his hand to your face to move the hair strands that cover your eyes. “For my cock.”
“In that case…” You don’t know where the sudden rush of confidence comes from. “You are made for me. To fill me up.” You move your hips again, trying to fuck yourself on him.
“Oh, god. You’re so fucking wet,” he moans. “I am, I’m gonna fill you up so much.” He kisses you suddenly, your teeth almost crashing together because of the thrusts, but you don’t care.
“Can’t wait.” You tease him. “Don’t hold back, okay?”
He says nothing, letting his head drop a little so he can suck on your neck properly. He’s definitely fucking you harder. He pulls until he’s almost completely out of you before thrusting inside you again. And again. And again. It takes your breath away. The way it makes you feel is indescribable. You lose the little remaining control you had and just turn into a moaning mess. 
“Say my name, baby. C-come on.”
“James?” You sound hesitant even if you don’t mean to because you don’t know which name he wants to hear.
“Again,” he begs, his metal arm on your leg pushing it right against his ass.
“James!” This one comes out so naturally. No questions, no hesitation. You just breathe out his name with a moan.
“God, you look so beautiful. So pretty with my cock inside you.” His thrusts get faster, and you have no idea how he can speak so well while you’re a mess.
“I’m so close,” you can barely say without taking a breath in the middle of the sentence.
“What do you want?”
“Just… harder.”
“Like this?” He asks, suddenly thrusting a little harder than before. “Or like this?”
“This! Yes! Just like this!”
“You just want it hard.” He whispers against your ear. “What a dirty girl.”
You hear him, but you can’t respond. You are too busy coming all over his cock, and it feels like you are in heaven. He continues to fuck you as the pleasure fades away, murmuring how pretty you are and how good you make him feel before he comes, too, grabbing the bedpost behind you with his metal arm. It makes a clicking sound, but you don’t care, opening your still foggy eyes just to watch him.
There’s so much come. You can already feel it dripping out of you as he keeps fucking you. You expect it to end soon, but it doesn’t. It goes on and on. The way he loses control as he comes just triggers another orgasm out of you. You would be surprised how quickly you could come again if it didn’t feel overwhelmingly good. You can’t think about anything other than him and the way he makes you feel.
His come is getting all over your thighs and ass, and the bed, as he moans. “Kakaya khoroshaya devochka.” What a good girl.
You can’t help but laugh despite not understanding a word of what he says. “Is that Russian?”
He opens his eyes, and the blue you love is almost completely grey. “Yes.” He sounds confused, too. 
“What does it mean?” Your afterglow can’t overshadow your curiosity. “If you don’t tell me, this isn’t happening again.” You try to make it obvious you aren’t serious with your playful tone. Especially not after those orgasms.
“Look at you, little and feisty, blackmailing me.” He chuckles before leaving a kiss on your lips. “I told you what a good girl you are. I didn’t realize I spoke in Russian.”
You laugh a little. “Say it again.” You give him the cutest look. “Please?”
“Ty moya khoroshaya devochka.” He repeats softly. You’re my good girl.
You don’t even realize how content you look as you keep smiling.
“Now, I can get used to that.”
“Say my name again, please.”
You love the neediness in his voice. “James?” You tilt your head a little. “Or would you prefer Bucky?”
“Fuck, it doesn’t matter.” His thumb is suddenly on your lips. “I can get used to that, too.”
4K notes ¡ View notes
xoxochb ¡ 2 months ago
Note
JEALOUS PERCY SMUT
cw: unprotected piv (don’t do that please), fingering, somewhat breeding kink, possessive percy? mdni
——— ౨ৎ ⊹ ࣪ ˖
it wasn’t necessarily your intention to piss him off. you were simply doing your own thing— a new camper had arrived this morning, you had only wanted to help him out. you had gave him a tour of camp, only out of courtesy, there had been no ulterior motives behind it. percy supposed differently. apparently, you hadn’t been ‘just showing him around’ you were ‘relentlessly flirting with him.’ supposedly batting your eyelashes, twirling your hair, faint blush, and giggling like a schoolgirl. that was false, the tour had been quite unexciting.
and again, percy did not care how much you said you weren’t interested in the boy, your words didn’t seem to matter as much as he thought showing you that you were his was. without wasting a moment, he had two fingers plugged into you at a nearly unbearable pace, not daring to let you adjust to the sensation. the friction of his stroking fingers quickly sends a rush of heat between your thighs. he doesn’t allow you a release, resorting to a tantalizing rhythm that sends a dizzy feeling through your senses. you buck your hips into him for hopes of reaching any type of friction, or just anything.
“please- percy, I—” a vicious assault of his mouth sucking along your neck prevents you from speaking further than this. an array of new red marks veiling your skin, surely you’d toy around with concealer later trying to cover them up.
“you’re only mine, aren’t you.” it’s less a question but a statement. like, he’s telling you you’re his. his thumb circles your clit, a silent way of telling you to respond and assure him you understand.
“yes, I’m- ah- ‘m all yours.”
you weren’t prepared for the outcome of your statement. he removes his fingers from inside you slowly. you’re sure he was done now, he had gotten the confirmation he needed, but instead he lifts his fingers to his mouth and sucks off the remainders of your sweetness. panting, you make no effort to move, and given this he removes the lower layers of his clothing. you furrow your brows and attempt to sit up to hopefully obtain a better understanding of what he’s doing, when you do this, he ushers you to lay back down. you do so.
before you can verbally protest to his new advances, he lines himself atop you and you feel his tip upon your entrance.
“percy— I really-” nope. you’re cut short by a guttural moan when he slips his cock inside you with a swift thrust.
“‘m gonna put a baby in you. make you mine forever.”
you repeatedly breathe out his name, because what the fuck is he talking about? you’re not having his baby just because he’s unhappy you were talking to another boy. he plants a gentle (in comparison to everything else he’s been doing) kiss to the corner of your mouth, silencing you. you pout and tug his hair in protest. a protest he doesn’t seem to care for.
“gonna talk to other boys?” he bites down on your shoulder, for a moment you were unsure if he drew blood or not.
“no, ‘m not gonna- mhm- talk- won’t talk to boys”
percy, with one hand, smooths the hair over your face behind your ear. “sure?”
you nod rapidly.
“good. still puttin’ a baby in you, sweet girl. gotta let ‘em know you’re all mine.”
gods.
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ancnymcnzjy ¡ 12 days ago
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Dating or Not Dating?
Pairing: Lee Heeseung x f. reader
Genre: Fake dating, best friends to lovers, fluff, subtle angst, romance
Warning: Explicit language, smut
Synopsis: You don’t answer your friend’s call because you’re hanging out with Lee Heeseung, your guy best friend, whom you haven’t seen since you were nine.
Too occupied with the video game you're playing and since your guy best friend is using your phone anyway, you ask him to text your friend for you.
He sends a message saying, "She can’t talk right now. What’s up?" which makes her freak out and ask lots of questions.
Your lack of response leads her to interrogate your other friends—now they think you're dating someone.
Taking advantage of your friends’ confusion, you wonder: What’s the worst that could happen if you randomly soft-launch your guy best friend to get a reaction out of them?
Word Count: 2,545
⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆ ˚ °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆⭒˚。
You suddenly became the topic of discussion among your friends in the days following you posted a picture of Heeseung on your Instagram story.
They didn’t necessarily believe that you suddenly had a boyfriend, since you’re always open with them about what's going on in your life.
It also seemed unlikely that you would start dating someone without first telling your friends how much you like them.
However, your friends bought it, using your recent absence due to illness as an excuse and a canvas for their imagination.
You kept quiet, hiding your amusement as they speculated and came up with absurd conclusions for your recent absence.
They also started examining the picture you posted, trying to figure out who it was.
Suddenly, you were glad Heeseung turned away just as you took the picture. Although his side profile was visible, your friends wouldn’t have a clue who he was since you became friends with them a year after he already moved away.
As school ended, your friends began leaving the campus.
They asked if you'd like to come to the mall, but you declined, saying you had somewhere else to be.
On any normal occasion, you’d head straight to your car.
Today, however, you stayed at the entrance of your university, leaving your friends puzzled.
Soon, it dawns upon them that you’re getting picked up.
You wave goodbye to them as you head over to Heeseung’s car that’s just pulling up.
You couldn’t help but laugh at their shocked expressions as you get in Heeseung’s car.
Wanting to get more reactions out of them, you give Heeseung a peck on the cheek before buckling yourself in.
As Heeseung drives off, you glance back at your friends, who are now exchanging looks and trying to make sense of what they’d just witnessed.
•••
Back at your place, you and Heeseung spend the rest of the day hanging out in your bedroom.
While Heeseung plays video games on your PC, you're contemplating how this whole fake dating idea will play out.
"Hee, do you think our idea will work?" you ask, beginning to doubt your spontaneous plan of soft-launching him on your socials before revealing to your friends who your boyfriend is.
"I don't see why not. Your friends already believe you have a boyfriend—especially now that they saw a glimpse of us together earlier in my car.
The worst-case scenario is we stop, and you tell them the truth, saying it was a joke all along."
With truth in his words, you remain quiet, choosing to silently ponder the outcome of this whole thing.
Not liking your state of overthinking, you distract yourself by watching him get his third kill in his game.
Your eyes wander to his wide eyes, twinkling with concentration. His bottom lip is tucked beneath his teeth, and his hands skillfully click the keys on your keyboard.
The way the computer screen illuminates his figure stirs something in you.
On any other occasion, his matching pajama pants with you and the random shirt he's wearing would have you laughing and teasing him about how silly he looks. But the way they perfectly fit his body has you hitching your breath and swallowing your nervousness.
As if sensing your stare, Heeseung looks at you when his game ends.
He removes the headphones from his head and makes his way to you.
Before you can move to make space for him on your bed, he quickly shifts and hovers above you, holding himself just above your lying figure with his arms.
Him playfully trapping you beneath his arms is common, yet the way he cages you in this time feels different.
You look up at Heeseung, who stares down at you with adoration.
"What's wrong, Hee?" you ask, curiosity etched into your furrowed brows.
He's quiet as he observes every delicate detail on your face.
You stare up at him as his eyes trail from your eyes and down to your lips.
You let out a surprise gasp when he suddenly kisses you, and let out more similar noises when you feel him press his body against yours.
You feel the bulge in his pants become more prominent, and you subconsciously start moving your hips to meet his light thrusts against your core.
While your hand is tangled up in his hair, his own hand is against your cheek keeping it steady so he can slide his tongue into your mouth.
As you let him explore your mouth, a little voice in your head reminds you that friends don't kiss. Friends don’t shove their tongue down each other’s throats, and friends especially don’t have their hands exploring one another’s body as if their life depended on it.
So ever since you and Heeseung agreed to fake date, have you been able to call one another just friends?
Heeseung pulls away from the kiss first.
His eyes mirror your lustful gaze as his eyes trail down to your chest. 
At the sight of your erect nipples poking through your shirt, his eyes darken and a smug smile is plastered across his lips.
He makes direct eye contact with you while lowering his head down to kiss each of your breasts, savouring the soft feeling he’s met with. 
He eyes the hem of your shirt and bunches it up in his hand. 
“Sit up for me quickly, angel,” Heeseung asks you while kissing your cheek. 
You do as he says, lifting your arms up as well to let him take your shirt off.
Not liking how you’re the only one exposed, you ask him to take his own shirt off as well. 
Catching Heeseung by surprise, you latch your legs around his waist and flip the both of you around so he's laying down and you’re straddling him from the top.
You peck his lips before showering his neck and collar bone with feather light kisses. 
Your hand gets busy exploring every inch of his exposed skin. 
When you reach his chest and abdomen, you drag your fringes across them teasingly. 
Heeseung shudders at your touch, instantly gripping your wrists in warning of the game you’re playing. 
Growing up together, you’ve come to learn all his sensitive spots. When you were younger, you exploited that knowledge to tickle him when he wasn’t expecting it; now, you use it to get the reactions you so badly want from him.
You smile teasingly at him while your fingers move lower until they reach the band of his sweatpants.
Slowly, you pull it down along with his boxers, making his hardened dick spring out onto his stomach.
With your fingertip, you trace the prominent veins along his length and swipe over his red, sensitive tip that’s already spilling precum. 
You smile to yourself, knowing you're the cause of his uneven breathing and trembling body—both the result of anticipation.
While kissing up his body once more, you notice the silver necklace dangling around his neck. 
You pull on the angel charm that’s attached to bring his lips to yours. At the same time, you wrap your fingers around his length. 
He’s already wet from precum, but he’s not as slick as you want him to be. 
You pull your lips away from Heeseung, a string of saliva following you as you hover your face above his. 
“Sit up and spit on your dick for me, baby.” You ask Heeseung sweetly while stopping your strokes along his length.
He does what you ask, though biting his lip and leaning his head back in amusement immediately afterward, since it's not quite registering in his brain that you, his best friend, could ever say such words.
You’ve been shy since you were young—you spoke shyly, too. But now that you're both older, it’s clear that some things have changed.
Heeseung watches how his precum and spit smear all over his length as you move your hand up and down. 
He lets out a subtle groan when you lower your head, kissing his tip teasingly before licking down his length to reach the base of his dick. 
You take him in your mouth, bobbing your head slowly while using your hand to jerk off the rest of his length that couldn’t fit in your mouth. 
He fits your mouth perfectly. Each thrust has his dick hitting the back of your throat, where Heeseung praises you with compliments that have you moaning around his dick as a result of making him feel good.
You look up to see his chest heaving desperately. Wanting to make him feel even better, you go to pick up your pace when Heeseung suddenly stops you. 
“Come up here, pretty,” he says out of breath. 
He watches as you release him from your mouth, then holds out his hand to help you move up to his lap. 
You lift yourself up so Heeseung can remove your shorts and underwear. 
You place one hand on his shoulder for stability, and the other around his length to line it up with your entrance. 
You glide his tip along your pussy, grinding your hips simultaneously to cover his dick in your arousal. 
Slowly you slip his tip inside and move yourself down until his dick is halfway in. His thickness and length has you stopping abruptly to get used to his size. 
While you tilt your head back in pleasure, Heeseung’s breath hitches as he gets accustomed to your tightness. 
You bring your other hand to his shoulder just as Heeseung squeezes your plush thighs to stop him himself from cuming too quickly. 
Once you’ve lowered yourself completely on his length, Heeseung’s hand moves up to feel the prominent bulge on your stomach. 
He looks into your eyes and asks smugly, “Am I too big for you, angel?” 
You nod, closing your eyes and biting your lip to contain the lustful moans daring to spill from your lips. 
He laughs softly at your reaction before kissing down your neck to the swell of your breasts.
His tongue circles around one of your nipples while his hand fumbles with the other. 
Heeseung picks up on your approaching release, moving his hand from your breast to your clit.
You let out a surprised moan at the same time that your thighs jerk from his sudden movements. 
“I’m close, baby,” you tell Heeseung. 
Your eyes roll back when you feel him thrust his hips up to meet your bounces. 
“Me too, angel,” Heeseung replies before kissing you on the lips. 
He grips your hips tightly, keeping you steady as he thrusts faster to reach your desired orgasms.
His grip on your thighs leave red pleasurable marks that have you biting your lip and digging your nails into his skin. 
At the sounds of your headboard banging against the wall and your skin slapping together, you’re brought over the edge simultaneously.
You let out an obscene moan as Heeseung fills your pussy to the hilt with his cum. 
After bouncing on his dick one last time, you lie your body against his.
You and Heeseung lie in silence, both catching your breath and coming down from your high.
Heeseung gently massages the skin he marked while also pressing soft kisses on your shoulder and neck.
“Wait here for a second," Heeseung whispers softly in your ear, lifting you off him and onto the bed so he can stand.
He walks over to your ensuite bathroom and turns on the faucet in your bathtub. You watch as he waits for the tub to fill up with water before adding your favourite bath products.
Heeseung walks over to you and lifts you into his arms. He carries you to the bathroom and gently places you in the bathtub. Afterward, he climbs in with you.
You sit still, allowing him to smother soap all over you–letting his original plan of cleaning you both up work for a bit. 
Once he feels your ass grinding against him and your hand slowly trailing down to his length, all of his previous plans vanish as he responds to your smutty motions just beneath the water’s surface. 
•••
You wake up the next morning on top of Heeseung’s sleeping figure.
Your arms are loosely wrapped around his shoulders, his hands gripping your waist, and your legs are intertwined with his.
Looking up slightly to see Heeseung’s face, you can’t help but trace the outlines of his features.
You drag your finger from his soft, wavy black hair to the outline of his ear, then down his jaw and chin. Your eyes shift to his lips, and you can’t help but touch them softly, too.
Heeseung stirs awake from your movements, and his eyes slowly flutter open.
He tenses, his brows furrowing for a second, wondering who is touching him. He only relaxes when he sees that it’s you. 
“Morning, pretty,” Heeseung says, his voice raspy. He smiles at you before grasping your hand and pulling it from his face to place it on the pillow beside him.
With the same hand, he gently holds your face and gives you a soft kiss on your lips.
You return it, but with urgency, propping yourself to sit upright afterward. 
“What's wrong?” Heeseung asks, concern filling his voice at your sudden change in mood.
Your back straightens, and your eyes wander around the room—a nervous habit you have that Heeseung knows all too well about.
He brings his hand to your exposed leg, running his thumb back and forth on your thigh encouragingly.
“About last night...that was a mistake. Friends don’t have sex—hell, best friends don’t either! We also can't blame it on the fact that we're dating because our relationship is fake.” You explain to him.
Silence meets you, and you keep your head down, staring at his hand, too nervous to look up at him.
While your mind races with the worst possible outcomes, Heeseung interrupts your train of thought by holding your chin and making you face him.
“Look at me, angel.”
Your eyes flicker to his, meeting his solemn stare.
"You're right, we took things a bit too far considering this is just a fake relationship.
But what if I don’t want it to be fake? I enjoyed our intimate moment, and surely, so did you." Your flushed cheeks give him an answer, making him smile fondly at you.
With his voice soft and his face much closer to yours, he admits,
"I’ve spent so long hiding the fact that I like you. You gave me the opportunity to be your boyfriend these past couple of weeks—even if it’s been fake—and I took it!
I cherished you, took you on dates, gave you gifts, and showed you off to my friends and family just like a real boyfriend would." He pauses, his eyes searching yours for a reaction.
"I want to call it quits on our little game. I no longer want to be your boyfriend just for the sake of our fake dating agreement, but rather your boyfriend in an actual relationship, so I can officially call you mine."
"So what do you say? Are you in?" Heeseung asks, staring intently at you.
When he sees a smile slowly grow on your lips, he lets out a smile of his own.
"I’m in."
⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆ ˚ °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆⭒˚。
Thank you so much for reading!
Do you like my work? Click this link to find my other published creations.
⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆ ˚ °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆⭒˚。
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395 notes ¡ View notes
yourmoonie ¡ 11 months ago
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How to live in the end
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Are you feeling anxious about your upcoming photoshoot? Your exams? Sp? Or maybe an event that hasn't occurred yet?
I have got your back
1. Focus on your end goal and not on the "lack/circumstances"
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Our fave stickman wants to go to Barbados, but instead of focusing on Barbados (aka the end goal) he starts focusing on not having the tickets or not having the money to buy the tickets (circumstances)
His entire attention is on the circumstance and not on the end goal
“Because of your belief in external things you think power into them by transferring the power that you are to the external thing. Realize you yourself are the power you have mistakenly given to outer conditions.” ― Neville Goddard, Your Faith is Your Fortune
2. Thinking from THE end
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This is based on the timeline jumping method ( the thread, ♡ the visual thread )
So what do we do here?
Tickets are just the bridge of events for your end goal
We mentally go to Barbados and think FROM Barbados and not OF it
(That's how Neville manifested his trip, btw)
"Thinking from the end is the beginning of all miracles" - Neville Goddard
The art of thinking from the end is about internally seeing the world as you would see it if your desire has already been achieved, even if it hasn't physically manifested yet.
3. Not seeing any movement?
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The stickman has got a photoshoot at MoonMoon studio in 2 weeks
On top of that the stickman is manifesting their desired body
> Out of the blue, the stickman gets anxious about their desired body and how they would look during the photoshoot because they "can't" see the results in the 3D
"The journey is in yourself. You travel along the highways of the inner world. Without inner movement, it is impossible to bring forth anything." - Neville Goddard
4. Think FROM & AFTER your desire
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They become anxious about the photoshoot BUT
How can the stickman get out of that anxious state?
Instead of thinking OF the photoshoot, they will think FROM and AFTER the photoshoot
They will mentally imagine that the event has already occurred
5. How to get into the state
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And they ask themselves this question
"How do I feel now when the photoshoot is done?"
"Wow, I like how the photos have turned out. I look so hot,"
They mentally prepare themselves for the best outcome and it helps them to get out of the anxious state
Inner action is an introverted sensation. If you will construct mentally a drama which implies that you have realised your objective, then close your eyes and drop your thoughts inward, centering your imagination all the while in the predetermined action and partake in that action, you will become a self-determined being.
6. You are THE observer
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The Timeline jumping method in nutshell:
This is how you think FROM + After your desire
The observer effect in quantum physics states that where you direct your attention is where you place your energy. As a consequence, you affect the material world. - Joe Dispenza
“Imagination is the act of creation. Imagination creates reality." - Neville Goddard
2K notes ¡ View notes
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DPXDC prompt: Parents don’t approve of Dead on main
Fentons are geniuses but not multitaskers. They’re used to giving their all to the most important thing on the list, forgetting even food and sleep, and then going back to something else.
So when they find out that Danny is Phantom, they panic and can’t think of anything else. Well, until they see the Gotham News on TV. What does it matter if their boy’s ghost or not? He's in bad company now and dating a crime lord! That's a real problem. No time to whine about their research about the nature of ghosts. Their boy is in danger! Change of priorities, urgent change of priorities!
~~~~~
So, when Danny moves in with Jason because of identity reveal, Batman prepares for various outcomes. To the flow of GIWs in Gotham, to the parents of the boy who may continue to hunt him and even to the likelihood that Maddie and Jack will accept their child without any questions. Bruce is a genius, but he forgets to include one important variable in the equation, namely his son. Despite the anti-hero’s current status, Red Hood is still remembered by the general public for his bloody methods of controlling Crime Alley. Which could definitely bother..anyone, to be honest. And it's understandable that video of Red Hood and Phantom beating Black Mask up on news did not make a pleasant first impression.
However, Bruce himself know a completely different side of his son and therefore could not tolerate the completely unfounded accusations from Maddie. Batman: How dare you! My boy is an angel. Your son is incredibly lucky to have such a thoughtful and caring partner. Jack: Yeah? I don't think so. How do we know he’s not just going to use Danno powers in his criminal plans? Maddie: We’re taking our boy home and it’s out of the question. Batman: Yeah? And how do we know you’re not just taking him for your experiments? Danny *whispers*: Um, Jay, we should go away, if you remember. Red Hood *whispers*: Yeah, yeah, I know. But just listen to it. Usually we can not get a word out of him. A temporary cure for emotional constipation is a true miracle. May your parents stay longer if, you know, they will not try to shoot you or smth else?
~~~~~
Maddie at home*aggressively filing a petition against anti-ecto laws*: I don’t care if the parental rights aren’t over the ghosts. How dare a bloody furry tell me I have no official right to take my son home and shove my own quotes in my face calling him a thing?!
Vlad who has long wanted to get rid of GIW *enters the house*: Bonjour, need a helping hand? Jack and Maddie *exchange glances without knowing if Danny’s secret should be revealed to their friend*. Vlad: Oh, for Ancients’s sake. *Snaps his fingers and goes Plasmius* Vlad: I’m also a stakeholder in it, okay? ~~~after two hours of talking~~~ Jack: Wait, V-man, if you know about Danny being Phantom, you know about his boyfriend too? Vlad: Red Hood? How could I not. I often visit Gotham for business deals. This is a favorite topic of newspapers and gossip. I don’t know who he is without a mask but I must admit the guy has a good aim, a lot better than you, Jack. Maddie: *pulls out the Ghost Peeler*
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slxtarchive ¡ 4 months ago
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𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞. ᥫ᭡ 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨.
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𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. you had been pressing chris’s buttons all day and one time he finally did something about it.
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭. can u please write a chris fic where the reader is being kinda bratty and trying to make him mad and well we know what happens from there. please. by anon
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. SMUT ! dom!chris bratty!reader dynamic, begging, overstimulation sort of, rough sex, choking, name calling (bitch, whore, slut, ma, etc.) everything is ofc done with consent!!
𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬. sorry it took me so long! i had serious writers block omg.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭. to be counted.
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at the moment you were driving around with chris to run some errands. him getting his license was a game changer for you guys so you didn’t have to ask matt for a ride everytime you needed to do something.
you didn’t know why today you got irritated by everything. whether it was how chris pressed on the brake or how he was breathing like he was running out of oxygen. everything had you irritated.
“wait till the last minute to brake why don’t you?” you remarked as chris almost gave you a hard attack when you thought he was going to hit the car in front of him.
he shrugged your comment off. “the car in front of me was the one that stopped abruptly, not me baby.” you rolled your eyes keeping your gaze on the view in front of you.
“i have to stop at cvs really quickly to pick up some stuff.” you mentioned. he nodded looking where the closest cvs happened to be. he turned into the parking lot and parked. you got out not saying another word. you didn’t wait for him to turn off the car or get out either.
“what’d you need to— ” he got cut off by the slam of the car door and he watched as you went inside. what the fuck? he thought, feeling himself become annoyed at your dismissive action.
he shook his head taking a deep breath before heading in after you. he saw you grab a few items and head to the register. “can i use your card? i’m not sure how much i have in my debit and i didn’t bring my credit card.”
chris raised his brows. “after you just slammed the door in my face?” he called out, looking at you as you stood in line.
you let out a strained breath. “are you gonna let me use the fucking card or not, i don’t have time for this.” your tone laced with irritation. chris picked up on that and laughed in disbelief.
he poked his tongue with his cheek as he looked down and retrieved his wallet before handing you his card. you took it from him and went to self checkout scanning your items and inserting the card. you grabbed the receipt and left without a word.
he squinted his eyes and clenched his jaw while he observed you walking away. he controlled his temper now but his patience was starting to wear thin. he didn’t want to get into an argument now but he figured when you both got home he’d mention how you were acting.
you both sat in the car, silence louder than usual. you saw the way chris’s temper was slowly starting to rise and you admitted, you liked it. he looked so good with his jaw clenched like he was holding back from putting you in your place.
you smiled at the thought while you looked out the window as street lights passed by.
you guys finally got home and you were quick to grab your stuff and bring it inside closing the door behind you, not leaving it open for him. you knew it was a shit move but the outcome would hopefully be worth it.
you heard the door open and close harshly. oh shit.
you took off your shoes and left them by the door before setting your bags on the counter. you made sure you looked unbothered when in reality you were slightly shitting your pants. you pursed your lips trying not to show any emotion but you couldn’t help it. you smiled tightly as you tried to contain your grin.
“what the fuck you smiling about?” he was pissed. “think that shits funny?” he gestured to the door. you gulped, noticing how the veins in his neck and arms were popping out.
you dismissed him by sighing loudly before getting a soda from the fridge and popping it. “i’m serious what the fuck is up with you and that shit attitude you’ve been wearing all day.” he took off his hat combing his hair back before putting it on once again. God you were already so wet.
you took a sip of your soda and leaned against the counter staring at the kitchen wall. “swear to god you’re gonna make me do some shit to you.” he muttered under his breath trying to calm himself down. you raised your browse at his threat then laughed under your breath before taking another nice drink of the pepsi in your hand.
he crossed his arms together waiting for a response. the black shirt that hugged his body so well had your pussy pulsing. “so you’re just not gonna say shit?”
you set the pepsi down and spoke up turning to look at him. “the fuck you want me to say, kid?” the attitude that was once again laced in your voice pushed his last nerve. you grabbed the can about to bring it up to your lips before you saw it fly to the ground.
he just slapped the pepsi out of your hand.
your jaw was practically on the ground as you also noticed the splashes of soda on your perfect outfit. before you could say a thing he was quick to grab and carry you over his shoulder. “are you a fucking idiot?” you asked in disbelief as you flailed in the air. “chris. put. me. down.” you tried to get out of his grip but he was too strong.
he walked you both to your room and let you go on the bed. he closed and locked the door. “you like seeing me mad and shit?” he stood before you. you propped yourself up on your elbows just staring at him with a smile on your lips. his nostrils flared at how you seemed to enjoy his response.
his final straw was when you muttered under your breath. “like you’ll do anything about it.” one of his brows rose. he nodded slightly at your words before tugging you by your legs to the edge of the bed. he then tugged your shorts down harshly before throwing them to the side. “wanna be a bitch with your bitch ass attitude?” he questioned, not expecting an answer you were sure. “k, then you’ll get treated like one.” he unbuckled his belt, the sight looking heavenly. he through it to the side before taking off his jeans and letting them pool at his feet before pushing those to the side as well. “you know to tell me when to stop, baby.” he nodded to you, earning a nod back.
he looked down at you as you were trying to pull yourself together from being completely manhandled. he then pushed your shoulder down so you were laying on the bed. he pulled down your panties swiftly before feeling your pussy. “this wet just from me taking off your shit, ma?” he laughed humorlessly before shoving his fingers in your mouth. you swirled your tongue over and over his fingers before he pulled them out. he then went back in immediately entering his fingers inside your entrance and thrusting them in and out at a mid pace.
he kept his actions going for a few seconds, earning whimpers and moans from your pretty lips. he then sped up his pace, aggressively pushing his fingers in and out. in and out. your body spasmed as you reached your peak incredibly fast. “h-holy shit, chris! gonna cum.” you grunted feeling your orgasm crash into you. officially the fastest you’ve ever cum.
he didn’t stop his antics. at this point, he was on your side holding you down by your stomach while he continued to finger the living shit out of you. the feeling of your impending orgasm creeping up on you once again. “fucking slut, trying to get me angry just so i could fuck the shit out of you, huh?” he chuckled, the squelching noises of his fingers and your own juices clashing together were echoing through the room as well as your whines.
“please..” you and no idea what you were begging for, him to stop, or him to keep going. it just hurts so good.
he bit his lower lip as he saw his fingers disappearing in and out of you. “please what? begging like a whore already. clarify what the fuck you want?” he continued to press down on your stomach keeping you from flailing around.
all you did was nod aggressively as you felt your second orgasm crash into you without any warning. your staggered moans shot straight to chris’s dick. you could tell when you looked at his boxers and saw his apparent tent.
seconds later, you hadn’t noticed what had happened until you heard chris speak through the fog in your brain. “holy fuck. squirted all over my hand huh.” he licked your release up with a ‘pop’ as he sucked on his fingers. “not done yet. need to fuck this brat attitude out of you.” he mentioned as he saw your limp and exhausted body.
he stood up and dropped his boxers down before climbing on top of you once again. he took his cock in his hand pumping it a little bit before speaking. “mm, i got a better idea to get me ready for this pussy.” he chimed. he leaned forward grabbing you by your throat and pulling you toward him. “come on ma, get my dick wet.” he demanded. you immediately opened up your mouth to take him.
you looked up at him looking for approval as you began to move your mouth over him. you saw his lips open up, agape at the sensation you were giving him. he threaded his hands in your hair straightaway making sure you could take all of him. “mouth of a fucking angel.” he praised quietly. the non-degrading comment had your arousal dripping down your thighs. “m’kay, that’s enough.” he pulled you off before placing a hand on your neck and connecting your lips in a chaste kiss. as quick as your lips connected, they broke apart when he then pushed you down onto the bed and choked you slightly as he lined himself up with you.
he pushed in all at once taking your breath away. he wasted no time before pulling out and slamming back into you; hand still on your throat. your jaw went slack as he was ramming into you over and over again, nudging your g-spot soo good your legs already began to shake. “always take me so fucking good. fuck—” he moaned, before removing his hand from your throat and placing both of his on your waist for more support. he then plowed into you with more force than before.
he hit new angles as he moved your legs all around before resting in the position where one leg was resting over one of his shoulders. “fuck chris. right there!” you wailed trying to get a grip on anything you could but settling for the duvet you were laying on.
he had a lazy grin as his own obtrusive groans and moans made their way to your ears. “fuck— tell me, who this pussy belongs to. come on.” he needed to hear it. he was so incredibly close, he needed that nudge. “come on, baby. come on my cock as you say it. go on.” he clenched his jaw trying to hold back his orgasm.
your legs shook and knuckles turned white as you found the strength to mutter — then scream, “y-yours chris! shit—” as you clenched around his dick, during your third orgasm of the night.
he groaned and let his own orgasm hit him. he painted your walls white as he did his best to continue thrusting himself in and out of you, trying to ride out his orgasm as well as elongate your own. he did his best while his thrusts started to slow. he was sweaty as his movements finally stopped, still buried deep inside you. he took off his hat feeling the air hit his sweaty face. he threw it to the side before combing his hands through. sweaty chris… fuck.
another round couldn’t hurt, right?
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cheonstapes ¡ 1 year ago
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miguel o'hara stars in... 'NERD!MIGUEL STARTS AN ONLYFANS! THE LIVESTREAM' 〜(><)〜
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a/n~ IT'S HEREEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! sorry for the delay, i was at a funeral :( nerd!miguel creds to @nymphomatique 💗💗💗💗
part 1
summary; your nerdy almost-boyfriend starts an onlyfans without you knowing. now, he's gonna be taught a little lesson.
wc; 3k+
pairings; nerd!miguel o'hara x rich!fem!reader
cw; SMUT!!! dark-ish content!, toys, restraints, blindfolds, pegging, cock rings, brat taming, edging, ball busting, mommy kink, overstimulation, m!rimming, m!anal fingering, hair pulling, humiliation kink, reader has a tongue piercing, sub!miguel, mean!dom!reader, a bit of aftercare?, fluff!, IT'S ACTUALLY PROOFREAD????
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————————————————————————
previously on nerd! miguel starts an only fans...
you couldn’t even speak, slowly turning around to face him, his head hanging down in shame.
oh, you were gonna make sure he learnt his lesson. his fans too.
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“where’s all that confidence gone, hm? you were so comfortable flaunting your body like a whore for all these bitches online, but now you wanna act all shy?” 
miguel has never felt more embarrassed and turned on than he does now. he felt like crying, his cock painfully hard beneath his shorts, wiping his sweaty hands on his thighs. “ ‘m sorry, mommy. i…i wanted- i just…” you laughed right in face. he stammered, trying to find an excuse but he couldn’t — your sweet, sweet boy was really just a desperate slut in disguise.
“just wanted some attention, isn’t it? am i not givin’ you enough?” you grip his hair tightly, tilting his head up towards you. he whimpered, both in pain and pleasure, his lips parted as he let out small pants. “i do so much for your pathetic ass and this is how you repay me? by showing off what’s mine, slutting yourself out for other bitches?” miguel didn’t like upsetting you, but he loved the outcome. you were always so much rougher with him, marking him up, overstimulating him until tears streamed down his flushed face. he couldn’t help but feel like acting little bratty today.
“what’s yours? we’re not even together, you don’t own me. you’re so big-headed, i’m surprised there’s no space in there to care about anyone other than yourself.” oh, so he wanted to get personal now? “hah? the fuck did you just say to me?” a manicured hand reached out to grab his hair, pulling it close to your face. “listen to me, you. are. mine. no one else, and i mean no one, will ever have you like i do - try and find someone who can please you better than me. ‘cause i’ll tell you now, you won’t.” 
he knew he fucked up big time. his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips, pulled back in a snarl. he didn’t know what to say to you, gis heart was pounding like crazy in his chest — cock hard and tears threatening to fall. he fell to knees, gripping your thighs, calfs, ankles, every he could get a hold of. the thick rimmed glasses slipped down his nose, his head down as he whimpered pitifully. “mommy, i’m sorry! i‘m yours - i-i love you, i need you. i didn’t mean any of that, promise!” 
your silence was deafening. arms crossed under your chest, pushing up your perfect tits as you bent down to look at him closely. “you begging, baby? you think that’s all it takes for me to forgive you?” he shook his head rapidly, lips trembling as he bit back his tears. “no! no, o-of course not. i’ll do anything, mommy, anything to make it up to you.”
anything…anything, he says. a million and one ideas ran through your head, the corners of your pretty lips raising to form a malicious smile. you raised your foot, trailing the tip of your heel down his chest. the contours of his toned body rubbed against your shoe, sending ripples of pleasure down your spine. “oh, you poor thing…look at you, you’re shaking!” the bulge in sweats throbbed as your foot grazed over it, a small whimper leaving his lips.
he was so cute, trying to grind his hips up onto your shoe. so you pressed down hard, grinding your prada heels on his balls. his hands reached for your ankle as he groaned loudly, it hurt like hell but felt so good. “m-mommy, fuck! more…please, i need more.” you’d let him have his fun for now. lifting your foot a little before pressing down again, his tip spurting out pre all in his boxers. 
his body felt limp, mind only filled with you, you, you. he knew he wasn’t being a good boy, he knew how mad you were - but he couldn’t help but enjoy this punishment. nothing was sexier than seeing you like this, so ready to put him in his place like the mistress you were. you laughed, smearing his cum along the fabric as he whimpered and writhed — drool slipping out of the corner of his open mouth.
his hips continued to chase the friction of your shoe, the grip he had on your legs tightening just a fraction more — he was enjoying this a bit too much now. lifting your foot up once again, you push on his chest hard enough to knock his bulky frame over, leaving him breathless under you. “who said you can get off on this? ‘m not doing this for your pleasure, it’s for mine. it’s always for mine.” you placed the heel on his chest, looming over him with a dark glint in your eyes. 
a small flash caught the corner or your eye, his phone buzzing away on your vanity. the idea that ran through your head was downright cruel — giving him a chance to regain his breath as you stepped over to grab his phone. opening it, you went back onto only fans. scrolling through all the recent notifications made your blood boil even further — he really didn’t understand how serious you were when you said he’s belongs to you and you alone.
“get on the bed.” 
——————————————————————————————————
you did the finishing touches, his phone propped up on your desk. the sheets were ruffled, his body twisting and turning as he tugged on his restraints. his eyes were covered with a thick blindfold, arms and legs tied with your expensive scarfs.  
the beep of the phone signalled it had started, your body stepping into frame. you bent over, tits almost spilling out of your slip dress as you adjusted your mask, waving at the camera. “hi, everyone~” miguel let out a confused grunt, trying to lift his body to no avail. “miggy has been a bad, bad boy. lying to all you sweet people.” you were smiling under the mask, not that they could see it properly — thankfully. 
“you see guys,” you walk over to where he was situated, teasingly running a hand over over his heated face. “i bet you all probably thought my baby here was your absolute fantasy, hm? a big, strong, dom who could put you in your place.” you trail a nail down his throat, fingers running over his hardend nipples. “well, you’re all wrong.”
you tug on them hard, his hips bucking up as a whiny rumble leaves his lips. “he’s nothing but a submissive little bitch. and he’s all mine.” the chat was going insane, people commenting their disbelief, some questioning who you were, some even thinking you kidnapped him, and the vast majority talking about how hot this was. “you guys surprised? good, nice the truth’s finally out ain’t it. so enjoy this while you can, cause this is gonna be last thing you see on this fuckin’ account.”
miguel’s mouth was bound, the fabric slick with his saliva. his cock was pushing out of the fabric, the teasingly pink tip spewing out constant streams of pre. his heart couldn’t beat any faster than it was now, his thighs rubbing together to alleviate the aching throb of his hardness. trying to speak was useless, all he could hear was the clanking of box, things dipping the bed by his feet.
“let’s start with this shall we?” you giggled, grabbing a black vibrator from the box. the buzzing sound was obnoxiously loud, a tell tale sign you had immediately put it on the highest setting. you ran in down his chest, running it over his nipples, trailing it down his abs, and finally reaching his erection. his muffled whines didn’t deter you. in fact, it made you want to go even harder. “be a good boy and behave for mommy, you know your punishment — so shut up and take it.”
the way you sounded so aggressive turned him on to another level. you’re so hot, so sexy when you’re mad — his head nodding mindlessly. “that’s a good bitch.” the head of the vibrator met his, the sensation sending shockwaves through his body. his eyes welled with tears beneath the mask, sweat dripping down his face as he panted heavily. “mmphf — muh —“ you moved the toy down, rubbing it along the fabric of his boxers. “what’s that? can’t understand you, i don’t speak whore.”
you dropped the vibrator between his thighs, the rounded head landing perfectly on his heavy balls. the moan he let out was borderline pornographic, head slamming back again the soft pillows. you pulled the tight boxers down, shifting the vibrator away to bring it down his thighs. “look at that cock, so fuckin’ pathetic.” you were sorta lying to yourself. the thickness was mouthwatering, his tip resting completely under his belly button. 
you pulled his boxers completely off, throwing them to the side as you squeezed his tip with your manicured fingers, oozes of cum trickling out. you placed the vibrator back against his balls, revelling in the obvious shudder of his body. “see that guys? isn’t this so sad? seeing those fat balls all achy and swollen.” you put your lips against his ear, sucking the skin under it. “let’s empty those balls for you, ok?”
his breath hitched, body stilling as he feels you grip his cock tightly. you moved between his thighs, grabbing the lube from beside you. the cold liquid started to make his skin tingle, the slick sounds of your hand rubbing in the lube causing him huff out of his nose. keeping him occupied by jerking his cock slowly, you slid over the cock ring by your feet. your fingers were a bit slippery as you fiddled with the silicone. it finally found its way onto his length, depraving him of the release he craves oh so badly.
he was being so noisy, loud and slightly more clear things coming out of his delirious mouth. you ripped off his mouth gag, the fabric hanging off his neck like a tie. “m-mommy — please, fuck, it’s too m — ugh — much!” that obviously wasn’t gonna stop you. your hand reaching back into the box to pull out another gadget. 
the cock ring conveniently had a vibrating mode, the rapid shaking of the silicone causing his legs to shake from the restriction of his release. miguel’s plump lips stayed parted, quick puffs of air leaving his mouth. “fhucccckkk — mommy, need…need to cum.” you just smiled, sliding off the bed as you slipped off your dress, throwing it by his boxers.
you bent over, not so subtly exposing your little surprise to the camera — pulling off the blindfold from his face. he blinks, vision blurry as he looks up at you. “here, baby.”you place his glasses on his face, standing up in front of him. miguel’s eyes widen like saucers, trailing down your naked body. his eyes catch onto the 7” cock strapped to your lower half, string of the vibrator you had nestled in your tight cunt hanging below it.
“i..oh my god.” he couldn’t tear his eyes away, he felt a weird tingling sensation in his chest — stomach tightening in anticipation. “that’s, uh, g-going in me?” you nod, drizzling the lube on the length of the silicone. “isn’t this one of your little fantasies, babe?” giggling, you turned to the camera, bending level with it. “another surprise, huh? that this hunk of a man wants to get his ass played with.” 
he unconsciously spread his legs as much as he could, considering that he was still bound to the bed. you tut, walking over to untie him — rubbing his wrists gently as you gesture for bim to lay on his stomach. he turns around, cock pressed against the sheets and his back to you. “look at you, baby.” you run your hand over his ass, a palm colliding with the flesh before you spread them open — dropping a glob of spit on his hole. “such a dirty, boy. you just want me to fuck you, right? stretch out that tight hole with my fat cock?” 
his body shudders, hands gripping the pillow as he buries his face in it. “god, please — i need you, mommy. i-i want you so bad.” needy slut. you shuffled back, laying against the bed as you lowered your face towards his spread cheeks. your tongue collects the remnants of your saliva, spreading it back over his taint. gripping his hips, you push your tongue in deeper — the cold ball of your tongue piercing grazing his sensitive walls. you make an effort to stretch him out considerably, inserting two of your fingertips into his ass. 
you scissor them, dropping more spit to help your finger slide in deeper. his back arches deliciously, hips moving in tandem with your movements. his little, whiny gasps were muffled by the pillow, his teeth marks imprinting onto them. you knew he wasn’t gonna cum, as long as that cock ring stayed on. you knew he was ready when your fingers were sliding in and out easily. “all nice and prepped for this cock, baby.” 
you lifted your hips, aligned the bulbous tip of your cock to his hole, sliding it in till his ass meets your pelvis. the vibrator inside of you turned on, the faint buzzing rubbing against your gummy walls. it was hard to fuck a man when you felt like you were about to squirt all over the bed, your thighs shaking as you pushed in and out of him. “shit…so this is how it feels, huh?” miguel looked dazed, his glasses falling off, drool coating his cheeks. he was so fucked out.
you grabbed his jaw, turning him to face the camera — your hips slammed harder against him, other hand resting on his hip. “tell them…them how much you love it when mommy fucks you.” it was hard for you to stay composed too — your stiff clit twitching with every squelching thrust. he nods dumbly, mumbling into the pillow “l-love it, i love mommy’s — nngghh — c-cock.”
“thaaat’s right, good boy. that’s what you’re good for, being a hole for mommy to use.” he whined deeply, grinding his ass with your rhythm. you can feel something building in your lower tummy, the vibrations speeding up the faster you move. with a silent whimper, you push him off of you — laying on your back, panting softly. a thin layer of swear lines your brow, rolling down your temple as you look at him.
“this cock ain’t gonna ride itself.”
the way his face lit up was quite endearing, his large frame scrambling to straddle you. he was a bit nervous cause of how much bigger he was, scared he would crush you under his weight. “a-are you sure? i don’t wanna hurt you-“ the hard slap you landed on his ass was enough for him to get a move on — hands resting on your soft tits as he aligns himself with your cock. “ah — fuck, it’s so big…” 
“now you know how i feel.” you teased, pinching his hip. “now ride.” his face heated up, nodding as his body bounced on top of you. it seemed like he learnt from you, hands resting on your knees as he ground, rolled, and bounced his hips. the ring seemed to be working wonders with his cock, the steady vibration causing his tip to drool creamy liquid that dripped onto your stomach. “mommyy, fuck me h-harder! wanna cum for you — ‘m sorry i was a bad boy, please let me c-cum!”
you caressed his sides, nimble fingers flicking his nipples teasingly before gripping tightly on his hip. you drove your hips up into his, each thrust barely lifting him due to his size so he decided to move up with you — strong thighs able to endure the strain. “so dirty…riding my cock whilst all your little fans watch. you like it don’t you? you like everyone seeing what a depraved freak you are.” you grunted, gritting your teeth as your head hit the headboard.
unbeknownst to you, the live was blowing up — over 100k people watching at once. it was something no one had expected but everyone wanted. seeing a greek god of a man being ravaged by a girl much smaller than him — it was the sexiest thing to ever grace that god forsaken website. the donations were flooding in, the live was accumulating 10’s of thousands — the most money miguel had ever made on the site.
the tension coiled tightly within you both, miguel being on the verge of tears with how deep you were hitting, scraping against his prostate. his cock was red a twitching, the cock ring starting to slide off from how slick his length was. you didn’t wanna cum, not before he did. the wetness dripping down your thighs was getting harder to ignore, the force of your orgasm feeling like it’d be enough to push the vibrator right out of you.
miguel was whining so loudly, drowning out the sound of your hips meeting. his lips were pulled back in a small snarl, large hand jerking his cock whilst the other groped one of your tits — his flushed face looming over you. “gonna cum,
mommy. g-gonna cum so fuckin’ hard — need it so bad, baby.” you let out a low growl, swatting his hand away from his cock as you held it tightly in your grip, working as a makeshift cock ring. “you’re not cumming till i do, so be a good boy and wait.”
he whined like a little baby, earning him another hard slap on his ass. the vibrator inside of you was on it’s highest setting, small streams of squirt trickling out of your sore pussy. the friction of your clit rubbing against his balls, the debauched sight of him, the pressure in your core — it was all too much. your hand loosened its grip around his length slightly, rapidly stroking up and down the stiffness, his hips chasing your hands.
“cum then, go ahead and cum like the nasty ,little, bitch, you are.” he nodded, drool sliding down his neck as he squeezed�� his eyes shut, letting out a stream of curses and broken cries of your name. his cum was so thick, shooting all over your bare chest and catching on your pretty face. your eyes closed in bliss as you licked his cum off of your lips, hips slapping against his rapidly before you freeze, your own orgasm squirting out onto his lower half, the cock you had simultaneously released white, creamy strings of cum deep into his ass.
all you could do was stare at each other, eyes roaming around the others face as a small smile grew on both of your lips. you shook your head, pushing his heavy body off you. your cock drips onto your rug as you walk to his phone to turn off the live, “bye-bye forever, hope you enjoyed!” you giggled, waving a drenched but perfectly manicured hand to the camera.
 you place his phone face down on your desk, climbing into the bed next to miguel — your heart swelling as he rests his head on your plush chest. he was snoring quietly, beefy arms wrapping around your torso tightening when you pressed a kiss to his forehead. miguel had definitely learnt his lesson, making a mental note to delete his account as soon was he wakes up.
maybe it wasn’t that bad — being in love.
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-happy late halloween!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🎃
taglist; (some links aren't working :( sorry!!! )
@honeyfrenchietoast, @zzxzzxzzzsworld, @vesperurdad, @grapejuicenads, @boldlyimportantface, @clementine-thedestroyer, @choasinterludee, @hayden-the-goat, @obi-mom-kenobi, @miguelzslvtz, @111gltzpzy, @mreowmoreww, @deckfunkk, @imfinenotsblog, @skylarlyn823, @miyaluvvsyou, @eliozs, @darksidescorner, @ravenlini, @dearlyjinie, @astarstruxkgirl, @ximena-nothere
2K notes ¡ View notes
higuchisora ¡ 1 month ago
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Seeing as they clearly didn't know what the hell to do with Jinx/the political repercussions of her bombing the council in season 2, I'd like to explore the possibilities of how Zaun would've reacted to this that would've made way more sense than what we saw.
1. Jinx becomes an extremely controversial figure.
Few are neutral to her. This would be largely because, outside of knowing she blew up the council, no one actually knows WHY. What were her motives? Were they politically charged? Was she trying to start a war? What exactly was her goal? It was never really stated that she was infamous prior to this, but I recall in season 1 act 2 that when Vi went looking for her, people knew OF Jinx, and that she worked for Silco, but weren't really aware of any further details. So those that are aware of her connection to Silco- who objectively did make many of their lives worse with Shimmer- wouldn't be happy. They'd be scared of what will come next.
Those who don't know/don't care might fill in the blanks with their own guesses, maybe that she's some kind of activist- which would split them further into the subgroups of "Oh fuck the enforcers are gonna kill us and it's her fault" and "Finally, a war!" The second of which I'd argue would actually be a very small group. I could imagine the Jinxers being seen by the rest of Zaun as crazy radicals who don't know what they're getting themselves into/are gonna drag the rest of Zaun into danger. I think it would cause a LOT of infighting. Like a civil war inside another civil war.
How Jinx would handle this would be.... interesting. Especially if the Jinxers start making moves on their own. She never really shows much interest in activism- she works for Silco because he's her new dad, and while she doesn't seem to DISAGREE with his opinions, it doesn't seem she's all that invested in actually working to make it happen beyond just wanting to help her dad. His death seemed to take her interest with it.
Now, they could either lean into this, and make people question her motives/actions because of her clear disinterest, maybe increasing some of the controversy around her (no follow through on her action, letting Zaunites suffer the consequences, etc.), or they could make her actually take a genuine personal interest in it. But that, I think, would take a bigger arc that might be more work for arguably less payoff when considering you'd probably have to change a great deal of her character to do it, especially when you could probably achieve similar plot points/outcomes even without her intentionally becoming a political figurehead.
2. Zaun becomes fractured politically/other "symbols" of Zaun
This can be in tandem with idea 1, actually, but can still be it's own idea. Basically, after the fall of the council, and Silco's death, Zaunites are terrified. They've been run so far by Vander, Silco, and then some vague council-like oligarchy of Chem-Barons, who could be interpreted as functioning like very large gangs. The Chem-Barons have always been around, but with Silco's sudden death (and no one who was primed/expecting to replace him), this leaves a massive power vacuum that the Chem-Barons and smaller gangs are scrambling to come out on top of.
The fear of the unknown and the extreme instability would lead to people desperately throwing their lot in with whoever they think would be a better/less dangerous leader, and by extension, political symbol. Season 2 shows a bunch of new people joining the Firelights. In that case, I can imagine that before long, several new potential leaders surface, even if they didn't expect it. Namely, Ekko, Jinx, and Sevika.
Ekko because as I said, people were apparently coming to his base in droves. They don't tell us Jack shit about the Firelights besides the fact that A) Ekko leads them B) they don't fuck with Silco OR Piltover C) Piltover thinks they're terrorists and D) they look rad as fuck. That being said, considering Ekko's Everything, I think we can all gather a general picture of what the Firelights are about. Plus his cool tree would be a great symbol (@srslylini for the idea) of growth, healing, etc.
Sevika, because those that knew her as Silco's second might be hoping for some kind of stability with her. Even if they didn't like Silco, it's better the enemy you know and all that jazz. They'd feel safer with someone who at least seems to know what they're doing, even if Sevika herself has no interest in becoming a leader. I think some would just naturally gravitate towards who they see as "second in line". This could also be in connection to Jinx, as she could possibly been seen as someone who could "rein" Jinx in (again, most people don't actually KNOW Jinx, they just know OF her and that she worked for Silco and was volatile. Think how Finn referred to her as Silco's "attack dog").
Speaking of Jinx, she'd probably be treated similarly to idea 1. Extremely polarizing. Her followers would be seen as crazy, like she is. They'd be seen as warmongers and/or people who have no idea what they're getting themselves into. They'd basically be seen as the stereotypical "young rebels". The average Zaunite would see the average Jinxer as a young, angry, maybe idealistic radical who doesn't understand the cost of war. I'd argue that, again, they'd probably be the smallest and most controversial group just because most people don't necessarily WANT a war, even if they're willing to fight for it. And the suddenness of the bombing would've scared even some of the rebels who DO want war, because they weren't prepared. It wasn't a PLANNED attack, so both Zaun AND Piltover are basically caught with their pants down, which would also bring some ire from the other Zaunites.
There's another option for a faction I'd like to explore, also thanks to srslylini (thank you icon), but it takes a bit of setting up.
In a hypothetical situation in which Vi did NOT become an enforcer, I think it would happen like this: Vi hangs around in Piltover at first out of guilt/feeling like she has nowhere else to go. She's still not on board with being an enforcer, but she attends the memorial out of a sense of obligation. Her and Caitlyn have a falling out over Caitlyn calling Zaunites "animals", and here is where she storms off and goes back to Zaun, with the final words to Caitlyn that "You Pilties are all the fucking same" (or something to that effect). She's still feeling lost, and so maybe this is where she stumbles around, having maybe a similar pitfighting arc (just not as distraught, more like she's broke and angry and has to pay rent somehow so she might as well get paid to punch someone's face in). Because she's not in a massive spiral, there's unfortunately no emo arc (sad), but the bright side of this is that she's recognizable. I don't think she's FAMOUS, per say, but Babette and Ekko recognized her right off the bat in season 1 (yes you can say Ekko was really close to her, but Babette? C'mon), and considering she was older than Powder when she went off to prison, I don't think it's a stretch to assume her face was a little better-known than her sister's (especially considering she was already going on jobs, and in act 1 she gets into a fight with Deckard who I'm pretty sure knew her name, but not Powder's).
This is to say, I think a lot of the "old heads" knew who she was, especially those who liked Vander. It helps that she tattooed her name on her face LMAO. So I'd imagine she'd show up in the ring, no hair dye no makeup, and eventually after consistently knocking her opponents around and winning every time, she'd become a bit locally famous again- to the point that those same "old heads" who remember her make the connection and come looking. Maybe rumors start swirling, especially once they learn she was gone because she'd been in prison- not unheard of, and probably the first conclusion they drew when they realized she wasn't dead.
So eventually Vander's old followers/younger people who idolized him from their childhood start seeking her out. Sensationalizing her. Asking her what she's planning on doing. Is she taking back the Lanes? Will she get those Chem-Barons under control? What about Jinx? Could she hunt her down, rein her in? Hell, maybe even put her to use? Will you give us our relative safety, our security back?
And Vi, who just wanted to knock some heads around and maybe take a nap in her apartment and cry, is suddenly faced with being "Vander 2.0" and Jinx is the new "Silco 2.0" and all the weight of expectations and legacy and history and literal war and politics are being shoved in her face. She, like Jinx, is now faced with becoming a figurehead when she never wanted to be, which could lead into option 3:
3. A joint approach to Zaun
This would primarily be driven by Sevika even if she wasn't one of the possible leaders, because SOMEONE has to be the responsible adult here and it's certainly not any of these traumatized losers (affectionate). She'd be the glue to keep it all together, the reluctant team mom who WILL make this work because she WILL have Zaun even if she has to die to get it.
This could work with either Jinx and Vi, or Jinx, Vi, and Ekko (I genuinely can't imagine season 2 act 1 Ekko willingly teaming up with season 2 act 1 Jinx AND Sevika without some kind of buffer). Basically, once the other "leader candidates"/political symbols have been established, Sevika would round them up with the intention to use their influence to unite Zaun against Piltover. This would take a LOT of arguing, but ultimately I think she'd be able to get them to shut up and hear her out for a moment. Regardless of how different their beliefs are about what the "ideal Zaun" looks like, they can all agree that Piltover isn't in any of those pictures. She could convince them to set aside their own squabbling for the time being, for the greater good: aka, the independence of Zaun.
At the very least, I think she'd be able to get them to agree that Piltover coming down and hurting Zaunites in revenge shouldn't be ignored, and that they're currently a bigger threat than their fellow Zaunite. So eventually they'd reach some kind of truce: behave like a united front against Piltover, push them out of Zaun, stabilize Zaun, and then worry about tearing each other apart later. And because all of these characters- ALL of them- have shown (prior to season 2) anti-Piltover sentiments, they'd at least be able to agree that enforcers shouldn't be allowed to beat down on their people (especially in this version where Vi has better, more consistent writing lmao).
Of course, Rome wasn't built in a day, so maybe they don't reach a total agreement immediately- maybe they just agree to a ceasefire at first, but still refuse to work together. But once Caitlyn becomes a dictator? Once enforcers start gassing the streets, rounding people up, implementing martial law?
That's when the gloves would come off.
I'd imagine this could also be part of how Vi and Jinx slowly start to repair their relationship. They've got bigger fish to fry, but also, this time their enemy is connected to their own personal conflict with each other. Jinx might ask, "what happened to your enforcer girl? What happened to being a Piltie lapdog?" And Vi would essentially, in perhaps more emotionally constipated words, explain that it wasn't really about Caitlyn, it was about being needed. It was about trying to find Jinx, about trying to stop Silco, about trying to "fix" things, only realize that she couldn't. It was about trying to make things better, but that she realized the person she was trying to do that with didn't actually care. That all she wanted was to make sense of the destruction of her old life, and find meaning in a new one. And I think Jinx, too, in her own emotional constipation, would resonate with that, would understand that. It wouldn't fix things between them, but I think it'd be a start.
It could also help their relationship with Ekko. Since Vi isn't an enforcer this time, and season 1 (the One True Season) showed their sibling relationship, I think her and Ekko's bonding would be more like "reconnecting with an old friend", whereas Jinx and Ekko would have a lot of work to do, too. There'd probably be a bit of a cold war between them for a while, once Ekko agrees to help, because he knows actually talking to her would piss him off. But eventually, through Sevika's manhandling of these three, and being forced to make nice with reluctant-figurehead-Jinx, they'd connect again.
Perhaps part of a plan is for them to develop new technology for Zaun. Whether that's weapons against Piltover (unlikely on Ekko's part I think), or just safety gear/ safer city infrastructure ideas for the betterment of their people, I think eventually they'd figure themselves out, too. He'd see the Powder in her, the part he saw on that bridge, and maybe it would give him the ability to try and understand Jinx. And Jinx would realize that maybe these people in her life DO love her, DO care about her, more than just for what she used to be but for who she is now. And somewhere along the way, they'd be friends again (or they can date IDK or care man I just want them to stop trying to kill each other).
Whatever happens next is so wide in possibility that I can't possibly cover it here so this is where it ends, lol.
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togenabi ¡ 1 year ago
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things I won't tell you
vinsmoke sanji (opla) x princess!reader
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♡—the new royal chef doesn't seem to recognize you without your crown. who's going to tell him? . . . certainly not you.
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word count♡— 7.3k (cries)
genre♡— fluff, royal chef x princess au
content notes♡— opla sanji, afab!reader is a princess, reader wears dresses, reader has siblings (oc's), sanji made me google fancy food, mentions of zeff, sanji gets jealous if you squint, no use of y/n, proofread (but only a little)
also on♡— ao3
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author's note♡— this is detached from any canon, its basically just a big chunk of sanji fluff. please enjoy!
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You've never really dreamed for yourself. You had always just let life fall into place around you.
The kingdom is prospering, entering a new age of commerce. Artists, craftsmen, and inventors sail seas just to be part of it.
Your sister Chrysanth is a wise queen, as you always knew she would be. She’s fair and just, always knowing what’s best for her people.
On the other hand, your brother August is Captain of the Royal Guard. He’s an excellent swordsman, who has yet to be beaten ever since he took command.
As for you, the youngest of the three, you have no idea what you’re doing.
The most likely outcome would be for you to be married off to settle some political arrangement. Unpleasant as it sounds, you would have agreed to it for the sake of the kingdom.
But the moment you said so, Chrysanth gave you a look unbecoming of a queen and immediately shut it down.
“Look,” She gestured to the view outside. “Does that seem like a kingdom who needs help to you? I work my butt off precisely so that we won’t have to depend on anyone else.”
“Besides,” She adds, “if anyone wants your hand, they should fight to the death for it.”
And so, for now, you work for your sister. Helping manage general affairs and the kingdom’s business agreements—even though she could easily hire someone else.
“I love that you insist on working,” Your brother told you once. “You could have been a socialite, but you’re here with us, serving the people.”
Of course you are. Because even though you didn’t necessarily plan it, you are proud and committed to your work. You’re happy with your own, mundane accomplishments.
Or at least that’s what you try to remember when you glance at the tall pile of documents on your desk. You’ll relish the satisfaction that will come when it’s gone.
The candle beside you burns low, flame becoming dimmer and dimmer as the hour grows late. You should probably replace that. Pulling open your drawer, your eyes scan its contents for a candle.
You’re fresh out of the tall ones that fit in the candleholder, but you have one sculpted like a cinnamon bun—a gift from August a few birthdays ago. It’s not exactly the best for illuminating your work, but something makes you strike a match and light it still.
It smells like freshly baked cinnamon rolls, you can’t help but inhale the decadent scent deeply.
The aroma triggers an embarrassing grumble from your stomach. You feel your ears burn despite the fact that no one else is around to have heard it. Perhaps a midnight snack is in order.
Unexpectedly, light seeps through the gap beneath the large wooden double doors to the kitchen. In all your years, you’ve never encountered anyone in the kitchen at two in the morning.
Normally, you wouldn’t want to disturb them. Knowing the chefs, they would likely fuss over you and put whatever they were doing on hold.
But you fear that your stomach will disagree with that, so you decide to knock and enter the kitchen anyway.
There’s only one chef inside—a tall, blond man with his back to you. You don’t think you recognize him. He must be one of the new hires.
When he hears your footsteps on the stone tiles, he turns around.
His expression, at first, is curious. But after a beat, his mouth curves into a charming grin that catches you completely off guard.
“Hello there, miss.” He nods in greeting, eyes alight with a look that no one usually dares when it comes to you.
“I’d be happy to fix up something for you if there’s anything you’re… craving.”
When you expected the chef to fuss over you, this isn’t what you meant.
Your first instinct is to look at his surroundings for alcohol. Perhaps he’s intoxicated and not in his right mind?
But the (sober) chef seems to have mistaken your silence for bashfulness, because he presses you further, “Trust me. I may be new around here, but I know my stuff.”
Unsure how to respond to his blatant (or insolent, your sister would say) behavior, you try to gently decline his offer.
“It’s alright,” You say, still uncertain about him. “I was only going to make a sandwich and be on my way.”
“Nonsense!” He insists. “If you’re hungry at this hour, it means you’ve been busy working too hard.”
He approaches the pantry, retrieving one too many things for a mere sandwich. Your concern grows when he grabs garlic, several leafy vegetables, and a lemon.
“You, my dear,” He points at you with, is that a cucumber? “—deserve a proper treat.”
You sigh, it looks like he doesn’t intend to back down. Maybe you should just let him do what he wants and see if he can back up all the talk. Pulling one of the chairs from beneath the kitchen island, you take a seat as you observe the flirtatious chef.
At least he seems to be enjoying himself. His hands work with the kind of precision that only comes from years of experience; and he smiles proudly when he sees you watching.
“I meant what I said, I’m a damn good cook.” He’s begun chopping the vegetables. “My name’s Sanji, by the way.”
The question now is whether or not you properly introduce yourself. It's difficult to deny that you enjoy his attention. The casual and relaxed manner he addresses you with is… a nice kind of different. When else are you going to experience that if you let this go?
Alright. For tonight, you're not a princess. You're someone who stumbled upon a chef—a handsome one, it dawns on you. This is a chance encounter in the palace kitchens. And, you glance over at the dressing and ingredients he prepared, why should you turn down good food?
You decide to only give him your name. It feels strange introducing yourself without your title, but you don't tell him that.
“It makes sense that your name is as captivating as you are.” Sanji's voice is smooth, easygoing as he moves around the kitchen.
Nothing about his demeanor changes. Either he really doesn't know anything about this country's royalty, or he's skillfully controlled his reaction and is hiding that he knows.
There's also a third possibility: that you look so haggard and tired that you simply do not appear royal anymore.
Subconsciously, you look at your typical office clothes… Maybe you should go on that fitting the royal stylist has been pestering you about.
On the topic of style, however, your companion has unusual attire for a chef. He’s wearing a buttoned shirt with a necktie. His black slacks match the suit jacket draped over one of the chairs.
Your attention is diverted when Sanji begins rolling up his sleeves. He juices the lemon he had sliced in half, arms flexing as he twists the fruit.
Clearing your throat, you ask him a question to distract yourself. “What are you making?”
He smiles as if he’s glad you asked. “A dish that suits a beauty like you, of course.”
Several minutes later, he presents you with a sandwich. The slices of bread are whole wheat; the layers of ingredients between them are all in varying shades of green.
“A green goddess sandwich, made with care for the goddess in front of me.” Sanji pushes the plate towards you. 
It's easy to stay composed despite the flattery because your hunger makes you focus on the food. “It really does look excellent.” You compliment earnestly.
He gestures to the plate before placing his hands in his pockets. “Tastes excellent too, try it.” Shaking your head at how confident he’s being, you pick up the sandwich.
It might just be the best sandwich you’ve ever had in your life. The flavors are fresh, and you catch the hints of lemon blending with the dressing. The bread is soft, contrasting with the crunch of the cucumbers and sprouts.
You're completely surprised, and it must be obvious based on how Sanji reacts. He lets out an adorable, pleased laugh that makes you want to hear it again.
“I knew you’d like it, ma chèrie.” Sanji reaches a hand towards your face. Your heart just about stops when he brushes his thumb to wipe at the corner of your mouth. His eyes look so intense, like you'll drown in them if you stare too much. 
It feels as if your face could burst into flames at any second, so you turn away to hide your flush.
As Sanji grabs you a glass of water, you ask him if he’s eaten. “I did, but it’s nice that you’re worried about me.” He answers. You almost choke on your drink.
Once you've finished your meal, you stand then grab your empty plate and glass. But Sanji mirrors you, blocking the way to the sink. Why must a chef have such broad shoulders?
He shakes his head, trying to get the dishes from you. “Can’t let you do that, love.”
“Why not?” You frown, pulling your arms back so he doesn’t reach them.
“It’s late. You shouldn’t be working any more—”
“But you’re allowed to?” You look up at him defiantly.
Sanji stares at you. You stare back. There's a few seconds of silence before you sprint the other way, running around the kitchen island to get to a different sink.
“Oh, no you don’t!” Sanji yells after you.
You’re almost there, but Sanji catches up to you easily. Before you know it, he’s blocking the way again and you curse, remembering his long legs.
“Sanji, let me do the dishes.” You plead, but he’s as stubborn as it gets.
“The knives I used need to be washed anyway, and I’m not about to let your pretty hands do that.” Sanji winks, and you give up. He pries the dishes from your hands.
Seeing your shoulders slump disappointedly, he offers you a compromise. “If you really want, you could throw the rubbish in the bin and wipe down the counters.” Okay, you can do that.
“Are you sure this is the only way I can repay you?” You ask, grabbing a washcloth to begin cleaning up.
“That’s plenty of help, my dear.” Sanji answers.
But after a moment, he seems to have gotten an idea. Your brows raise in curiosity as you question him, “What?”
“...I was just wondering,” He begins, looking at you with that flirtatious glint in his eye. “Since we had such a wonderful time tonight, would you be willing to join me again?”
“That depends,” You press your lips together to suppress the smile blooming on your lips. “Will you cook for me again?”
Sanji laughs, throwing his head back. “Darling, that’s a given.”
He gazes at you while he dries his hands. There’s a grin on his face as he asks, like he already knows your answer. He probably does. He’s probably right.
“Same time tomorrow?”
Even though you got back to your chambers at an ungodly hour in the morning, you woke up feeling the most refreshed you’ve ever been. There’s a spring in your step as you get ready for the day, and you pick clothes that are slightly more dressy than your usual attire. Sanji shouldn’t be able to notice that you dressed up for him, right?
But your sister does. 
Seated at the head of the table, Chrysanth stops eating to analyze your clothes the instant you show up to the dining hall for breakfast.
You could practically hear the gears in her head turning. Avoiding her gaze, you bow to greet her before taking your seat, “Good morning.”
The queen only smiles at you knowingly, eyes still flickering over you with enraptured excitement. Very much unlike a queen, however, she kicks your shin underneath the table.
“Ow!” You yelp.
“So…” She lets the syllable drag on. “Who’s the guy?”
You focus on piling food onto your plate, choosing to ignore her. “What guy?”
“Your guy.” She says, giddy. “Is he your guy yet?”
“Hm?” Is your only response. Breakfast looks lovely. Should you ask for coffee or tea today?
Chrysanth kicks you again.
“Hey!” You rub the skin to dull the pain. “Stop that!”
“Stop avoiding the question!” She persists, waving a hand to gesture at your clothes. “You only wear that skirt when you want to impress someone.”
Mentally cursing her for knowing you too well, you continue to act nonchalant.
“Really, it’s nothing.” You try to clarify. “I just thought that it would be a nice change.”
She doesn't believe it. Not one bit of it. Thankfully though, she drops the topic. Your shoulders relax as the discussion switches to work-related ones. She’s telling you about her plans to approve a restaurant in the museum when your brother joins you for breakfast.
Once he’s seated, August takes one look at you before tilting his head. “Who’s the guy?”
Chrysanth looks far too smug and triumphant than you’d like. You bury your face in your hands. Would Sanji also tease you if he knew?
The rest of the day is uneventful, the only change to your typical work day being that you avoid your siblings like the plague. You have lunch brought to your office and skip on dinner.
Sanji had already started cooking by the time you got to the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind,” He says. Of course you don’t, whatever it is smells amazing. “I thought I’d start early so you wouldn’t have to wait too long.”
“Thank you for going through the trouble.” You say, glancing at the ingredients he had laid out: there are crushed tomatoes on the counter. Pasta simmers in a pot on the stove. You recognize the tubed shapes with ridges surrounding them.
“Rigatoni?” You ask, turning to the chef.
Sanji nods, “With a simple, creamy tomato sauce. Nothing too extravagant, but still specially made for you.” 
He puts the pasta into two bowls, grating parmesan cheese on top. Your mouth waters.
“Here you are, darling.” It pleases you more than you thought it would when Sanji sits across from you to eat as well.
There’s something homey and yet luscious about the taste. He really outdid himself. “It’s delicious, Sanji.”
“I live to please.” Sanji says before standing to retrieve two wine glasses and a bottle of red. “Zweigelt.” He says as he pours for you both. “Juicy and fresh, with just the right amount of acidity.”
You almost swoon at the rasp in his voice. You never realized someone could be so attractive when talking about wine.
As he clinks his glass with yours, you think to yourself that this might be your favorite dish from him. However, true to his word, he surpasses your expectations every time.
After a few weeks, on your sixth (or is it seventh?) time meeting Sanji past midnight, you've reached the point where you're able to open up to each other beyond the pleasantries that come with the food.
He tells you about his dream of traveling the seas in search for the best ingredients the world has to offer. You admit how you sometimes feel like life is just taking you along with the current—that you’ve never had a burning, passionate dream to aspire to.
“I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” Sanji hums contemplatively. “There aren’t any deadlines when it comes to finding dreams.”
“I do worry that you’re working yourself to the bone, though.” He adds, and for once, his smile looks different somehow. It’s a fond, gentle smile that’s sweeter than the macarons he made for you.
“What do you mean?” You take a sip of water.
“While I'm flattered you enjoy my food so well, do you eat properly? Shouldn't the palace be treating you better?” This time, you actually choke on your drink.
Could it get more embarrassing than this? Your ears burn as you cough, trying to clear your throat and settle your heart.
“Breathe, love." Sanji, ever the gentleman, is next to you in a flash of a second. He pats your back gently and supportively. “I'm sorry if I startled you.”
“It's alright—and, I do eat,” Your voice comes out raspy. “It's just that I don't usually have an appetite for dinner.”
“But that leaves you hungry for a midnight snack?” Sanji asks, a knowing expression on his face as he refills your glass.
“Exactly.” You smile. Thankfully, your throat has calmed down. Picking up a vanilla-flavored macaron, you savor the taste that melts sweetly on your tongue. Returning to his chair across from you, Sanji watches you eat happily. 
“I take pride in my desserts, but that chocolatier in Belltower street… The sweets are just—out of this world, I tell you.” He looks so excited as he talks, eyes aglow and gestures animated. “The chocolates are handmade and everything. I'm sure you've heard of it?”
“Um…” Hesitating, you certainly remember issuing a business permit for a chocolatier; but you can’t say you’ve gone there yourself.
Sanji’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Surely you’re pulling my leg. You haven’t been?”
“...”
He observes you quietly, like he's considering what to do next. There have been instances when Sanji stays quiet, doesn't eat, and only watches you chew. The times where he insists that he's content with seeing you eating well. Those were awkward at first, but you learned that was just part of spending time with him. Your reaction was a reward on its own.
But this isn't like that. Something feels oddly different in the way he seems to be gathering his composure. The silence almost worries you, but thankfully he breaks it first.
“You’ve saved me the trouble of thinking of a place to take you to.” Laughing, Sanji practically glows in elation. “You’ll love it, I promise.”
You had a peculiar sense that you would’ve loved going anywhere, as long as you were with him. 
Feeling bold, you suggest, “I’m free this Saturday if that’s good for you?”
He gives you that soft, enamoured look again. Something makes you hold your breath, your fingers tingle and the entire rest of the world slows down. You’re almost certain you’re giving him the same look.
“Even if I wasn’t, love, I would have gone to you anyway.”
The next day, a Thursday, your brother unexpectedly knocks on your office door.
“Hey,” You smile. “Is something wrong?” 
It’s rare for August to look for you in the middle of the day. If either of you need to speak, it’s usually you who heads into the training grounds to talk to him. The other way around occurring is curious.
“I wanted to invite you to watch the knights train this Saturday.” He says coolly. “It would boost their morale if you spoke a few words.”
The commander goes on to speak, not catching that you’ve short circuited somewhat, trying to rack your brain for a valid excuse to decline him.
“And maybe, you could pick out a personal knight like I’ve been telling you.” August prompts. “You really should—”
When he pauses, squinting his eyes at you suspiciously, you suddenly recall why you stopped trying to hide anything from him. 
“You already have plans.” He says, face carefully blank.
“Yes.” Thank goodness he understood. But wait, his eyes are widening. Why is he making that face? Why is he looking at you like he just figured out—
“You have a date.” Darn it all.
August is bewildered, not knowing what to do with the information he put together. He awkwardly brushes his fingers through his hair.
“...Is he a good guy, at least?” He settles with, asking carefully in that concerned way he does when he looks out for you.
Biting your lip, you nod. “He seems to be, so far.”
“Okay.” August responds. “Does Chrysanth know?”
“It’s nothing serious.” Yet. Yet? Do you want it to be? “You’re the first I’ve told.”
A worrying thought suddenly pops in your mind. Your turn to him, distressed. “Please don’t tell her yet, August.”
“Why?” His frown deepens, like he’s about to ask more questions. Unfortunately for him, you decide you’ve had enough talking about Sanji to your brother for today.
“Aren’t you busy?” You grab his arm, guiding him out of your office. “Don’t you have training to get to?”
“I do, but—why can't Chrysanth know?” You open the door for him and try to push him out, but August plants his feet; still trying to figure you out. He doesn’t budge an inch.
But then he makes that face again. That annoying ‘aha!’ face.
“You really need to go, good luck with training! Tell the knights I said hi—” You manage to shove him out with all your strength, but at the last second before you close the door, August turns around again.
“He’s a commoner, isn’t he?” You slam the door at his face. 
It doesn't matter. Sanji's status will never matter to you. Not when he's holding your hand so sweetly while he guides you through the winding streets of the city. You recognize some shops by name, knowing who owns what and when they established their business. But Sanji knows these streets, and he's more than happy to show you.
“Ah, one moment, my dear.” Sanji pulls you towards a quaint little cart overflowing with flowers. He flicks a coin to the vendor, eyes scanning all the vibrant colors and bursting petals. 
Somehow, without you needing to tell him, he picks one in your favorite color. You're starting to feel like that's just part of being with Sanji—that he knows what you want, and knows what you need before you do.
The flower is soon tucked into your hair, behind your ear. His fingers linger on the side of your face—and normally, you'd break eye contact and shy away. Maybe let out a halfhearted excuse that you should continue on your way. But you don't.
You smile back at him, not bothering to hide the genuine happiness you feel. And when Sanji pulls back, you're already holding out your hand before he reaches for it. There’s something in his eyes. Something that makes you feel like you're walking on air when he tugs you along again.
As planned, Sanji takes you to the chocolatier he told you about. The building is small, tucked between larger shops in the middle of a busy street, but there’s no doubting the quality of their confections.
The elderly chef behind the counter greets Sanji like a grandson she hasn’t seen in forever. She ushers him in, enthusiastically pointing to this and that, saying she moved some furniture around as he suggested.
“It looks perfect, grand-mère.” Sanji smiles, taking in the beautiful glass display. Chocolates of every flavor cover the shelves from end to end.
Grand-mère’s eyes light up when she sees you. She casts an approving look at Sanji, “I like this one. She might even be too good for you.”
“That’s because she is.” Sanji laughs, and you pretend to browse the menu while they talk.
“No need for that, ma chèrie.” The menu is plucked from your hands. Sanji sets it aside, pointing instead to where grand-mère is behind the counter. She's wrapping up a box of chocolates that she hands to you.
“No need to pay, dear.” She smiles, patting your hand. “If he ever gives you trouble, let me know.”
Sanji whisks you away through the streets again. You've never been this far into the city before. Looking back at the path you've taken and not recognizing any of it, you know you’d be absolutely lost without Sanji by your side.
“Almost there.” He tells you, pointing to a cobbled path that inclines upwards. 
What meets you at the top of the path is a small clearing. A stunning tree with blossoms on its branches stands at the center. Flowers and petals flutter away and fall onto the iron bench beneath it.
“Sanji, this is lovely...” You trail off, letting go of his hand to catch a flower into your palms. The flower twirls delicately between your fingers before you turn back to Sanji, tucking the blossom into the pocket of his suit.
Sanji takes your hand before you can pull away, bending down to press a kiss to your knuckles. 
“Not nearly as lovely as you.”
The two of you spent hours under that tree, sharing chocolates and stories—feeling like this is how things are supposed to be. Not necessarily the flowers, or the chocolates, or even the sun setting beautifully in so many warm colors.
Just Sanji. With you, next to you. 
All at once, it sinks in that he could be the dream you've been waiting for. But you don't tell him that.
Being enlightened on your feelings for Sanji becomes a second thought, however, when you’re swamped with work the following week.
“Don’t these people ever get tired?” Chrysanth groans, leaning back on her chair. “Why is planning a festival so hard?”
You approach her desk and place another stack of documents onto it. The numerous piles are getting concerning.
She scowls at the papers, then scowls at you. “Don’t you ever get tired?”
“Of course I do.” You tap a stack of documents to her left. “The guest list for the ball needs to be approved by tonight so we can send invitations out.” She groans again, but picks up the list anyway.
You’re unable to see Sanji as often as you’d like, but you both promised to meet once a week. Even if it’s only for a few short heartbeats together.
You dearly miss him. You think about him as you hand Chrysanth menu plans for the ball. If he saw it, he’d say that he could come up with something better.
She glances at the menu, studying it. Or at least, that’s what you thought she was doing—until her next words proved you wrong.
“So, how are you and that chef doing?”
Your heart isn’t in your chest anymore. It sank down, deep into the depths of the earth. It also must have taken all the air in the room along with it. How did she—
“August?” You blurt out.
Chrysanth shakes her head, “Zeff.” Oh no. Sanji’s boss knows? Does Sanji know that you’re—
“According to Zeff,” She proceeds, cutting off your thoughts. “One of his subordinates has been cooking a lot of personal meals over the last few weeks.”
“I can explain—” But your sister holds up a hand. Your mouth snaps shut.
She calls your name, and then you realize how serious her tone is. “Are you familiar with the kitchen’s rules when it comes to using ingredients and supplies for personal use?”
“...I’m afraid I'm not.” You didn’t know the kitchen had any such rules… but surely Sanji does. Your voice stutters, “I, did—is he in trouble?”
“He isn’t.” She answers, though her expression is still grave. “But I think that you should be aware of how much he’s doing for you.”
Chrysanth opens a drawer to retrieve a list of kitchen rules. Reading it over, everything is standard and straight to the point. You find the answer to your confusion towards the end, a small, nondescript bullet that reads:
All staff must reimburse the cost of all ingredients used for any reason outside of official duties.
“He must know who I am, then.” You say, feeling relieved that he didn’t break some sort of impossible rule. “He wouldn’t have done so much for me if he didn’t.”
Your sister purses her lips, letting the silence linger for a second before responding, “He doesn’t know, love.” She hands you another document. “He’s been paying back every cent out of pocket.”
Tracing over the timestamps and the different ingredients listed, you stare at an outline of your time with Sanji. It’s nice to reminisce, but you can’t help but wince whenever you spot something particularly pricey. What on earth are you to do with this man?
“Zeff recognized your name when he asked Sanji who he was cooking for.” Chrysanth explains. “He didn’t tell him, but he came to me and requested for Sanji to be repaid.”
“Since anything served to me counts as official duties of a royal chef.” You piece together. 
“Exactly.” Chrysanth nods. “However, doing that would expose your title to him. Which is why I wanted to speak to you about this first… You should tell him.”
“I know.” Letting out a deep sigh, you agree. Sanji deserves to know more than anything. Nevertheless, the thought of him changing how he treats you—or worse, leaving—because of your status, frightens you to your core. 
“I’ll talk to him tonight.” You say, but your sister’s expression slowly changes. What did she plan this time?
“Or maybe, you could put the kitchen dates on pause and tell him in a few weeks.” Surprisingly, she hands you an invitation to the ball.
“I can’t bring Sanji as my date.” No matter how much you wish you could.
“Are you sure about that?” Chrysanth is unable to contain her grin. “Open it!”
‘…you are cordially invited to the spring masquerade ball.’
You gasp, “You turned it into a masquerade?”
“Yes, I did. You won’t believe how much convincing it took for the ministers to agree.” She rolls her eyes, but then her smile returns. “Don’t waste my hard work and have fun with your man, littlest sister.”
You laugh, not expecting this outcome after all that. “I love you, even if you made me go through so much emotional turmoil for fun.” She cackles.
“Of course I had to make you sweat after what you put me through.” Chrysanth scoffs, “I can’t believe I had to hear about your love life from Zeff, of all people.”
“Ah,” She says, remembering something. “Speaking of, why’d you guess August first earlier?”
“...”
“...Did you tell him before me?” She gasps. “How could you! Give that invite back!”
“I didn’t think you’d approve.” You admit shyly. “He’s a commoner.”
“If he treats you well—which, he obviously does—I could care less about all that.” Chrysanth reaches for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Only those stuck up ministers will react negatively, I’m sure. We can deal with them easily enough.”
When she lets you go, she abruptly adds, “He better be cute though.”
That sends you laughing again. “Oh, Chrysanth, he’s the cutest!”
He certainly is. Especially when he sees you and grins, opening his arms wide in expectation. You fall into his embrace when you’re near enough.
Sanji takes your hand and places it on his arm, leading you away from the kitchens.
“Some of the others are still in there planning for the ball.” He explains. “It seems preparations are keeping us both busy.”
Sanji takes you to the greenhouse, which you’ve never seen at night before. Various patches of vegetables and shrubs line the space. There are trees and flowers towards the back too. It feels like a secret hideout, being here with Sanji. 
“I miss spending more time with you, love.” He whispers.
“Me too.” Your heart melts thinking about how much he gave for you. You wish you had the courage to tell him the truth now, while he’s looking at you like you put up the stars in the sky, but you can’t. You’re not ready yet.
Reaching your hands up, you caress his face gently, brushing your thumb across his cheek. He places his hands over yours, keeping them there. 
Sanji closes his eyes to savor the moment, and you let him. You two stay like that, your hands becoming enveloped in so much of Sanji you feel like you could recognize him with your eyes closed, with a single touch.
There’s a certain familiarity to him at this point. You would probably have some difficulty adjusting back to life without him in it. He’s so familiar that you could probably draw him. He makes you want to try.
“...I was just wondering,” You say with a knowing glint in your eye. Does he remember those words when he said them to you that first night? “We’ve been working hard for this ball, wouldn’t it be a shame not to enjoy it together?”
You give him the invitation, and he throws his head back laughing. You send him a confused look, but it all becomes clear when he pulls out an identical invitation from his jacket.
“Ah, how brilliant you are, mamour.” Sanji embraces you again, and you bask in how perfect it feels to tuck your head into the curve of his neck.
“It will be easy to find you even with a mask.” You murmur into his skin. He shivers. “You’re so goddamn tall it’s not fair.”
“I’m not too worried about you finding you, either.” Sanji begins to sway slowly with you still in his arms. It makes your heart skip a beat. You can’t wait to dance with him.
“Are you confident you’ll find me first, then?” You ask, adjusting your hold around his middle to snuggle in better.
“I’m not sure about being first,” He ponders. “But I’ll be sure it’s you when I find you.”
The greenhouse became your new meeting place while the palace was buzzing to prepare for the ball. You could only meet for a few minutes, but you treasured the time you shared just the same. 
Once, Sanji tried to feed you one of the expensive fruits growing there, but you declined, making up an excuse that you were allergic. He had looked at you strangely, but didn’t press you further.
You couldn’t find the time to see Sanji the week of the ball at all. Your time was spent welcoming foreign dignitaries, discussing business and trade. You and your sister had a marvelous time shutting down a marriage proposal from some duke from the north.
It amazes you how much you’ve changed since meeting Sanji. Had the duke asked before you met him, you probably would have considered it seriously. Whereas now, your standard is far too high. The man you choose must be able to get to your heart by cooking you the best food in the kingdom and all the seas. 
You’re glowing by the time you finish getting ready for the masquerade. The dress you chose is in your favorite color, with the skirt twirling dreamily when you turn. 
Chrysanth permitted you to enter the ballroom a few minutes late to avoid a royal entrance. You use the time to compose what you want to say to Sanji when you tell him the truth.
‘I’m a princess, and I think I might love you’, is that a lot to say? You sigh, smoothing your hands over your dress.
The clock on the wall chimes. It’s been fifteen minutes since the ball officially started. You put on your mask, tying the ribbon behind your head to secure it.
After one last glance at yourself in the mirror, you head to the ballroom—looking much more collected than you actually feel.
Maybe you shouldn’t have bragged to Sanji that you would find him easily, because you don’t.
You were mistaken when you thought all you’d had to do was look for a tall, blond man with a blue mask. (Sanji’s mask is surely going to be blue. He wouldn’t consider any other color. You bet your foot on it.) It’s unnerving how many people fit that description tonight.
You even find your brother before you find Sanji. August is dressed in surprisingly simple, all black attire. He looks more like a gentleman than a commander, lacking all those sparkly medals he’s usually required to wear at events.
“Where’s your date?” August asks, ducking his head slightly so that you can hear him over the crowd. “Chrysanth bragged about setting you two up.”
“I haven’t found him yet.” You answer dispiritedly. “I thought it would be easy.” 
August looks around, and you know that if he knew what Sanji looked like, he would be able to track him down in a flash. You’re about to ask what you should do when August suddenly bows, extending a hand to you.
“May I have this dance, fair lady?” He asks in a fake pretentious accent that instantly makes you laugh.
It would be nice to say yes, but you desperately want Sanji to be your first dance. August would understand. 
But you aren’t able to decline, someone else beats you to it.
“I’m afraid her first dance is spoken for.” Sanji’s voice reaches your ears and suddenly the room is brighter than it was.
You almost gasp, elated that he found you. Were it not for that frown on his face, you would have voiced out your joy.
August and Sanji stare each other down. Neither of them say anything, but it’s clear that their first impressions of each other aren’t the most pleasant. Not liking the hostility you’re sensing is building, you tug at Sanji’s hand. 
Your brother’s eyes soften at that, and he bows again, this time to say goodbye. “I’ll see you later then.”
You watch August go, and Sanji grumbles something you don’t catch under his breath. You'll have to properly introduce them at some point, but worrying about their relationship can wait. You really must cheer up this grump who thought he was going to miss your first dance.
“Dance with me, stranger?” Intertwining your fingers together, you smile and take in how handsome he looks. His suit is still black, but there are several accents in dark blue—the same color as his mask.
The deep navy color makes his eyes look almost crystalline, and you recognize why you love him so immensely when he smiles.
“I would be honored.”
Sanji is more graceful than you expected. His movements are controlled and precise, never moving too fast and always making sure you’re falling into step beside him.
He’s proven, once again, that he can surpass your every expectation. Sanji spins you around, catching you by your waist and grinning before sweeping you off your feet again.
By the end of it, you’re left breathless due to far too many reasons, and they all involve him.
You had tried bringing Sanji to a romantic spot; maybe a balcony, or somewhere by a fountain in the gardens—but it seems that a lot of other people had the same idea.
Everywhere was crowded, but you suppose where you ended up is romantic in its own way. With the sky being cloudless tonight, you could see every star twinkling away through the greenhouse’s glass roof. 
Let the stars bear witness to you pouring out your heart to this man.
“Sanji…” You start, mentally preparing yourself.
“Yes, ma chèrie?” Sanji tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, you have his complete attention.
“There are things I must tell you.” You swallow the lump in your throat, not brave enough to look him in the eye yet; though you grip his hands tightly in yours.
Sanji waits. He doesn’t complain that you might be holding onto him too tightly, or nag at you for taking too long to put your words together.
When you finally look up to meet his eyes, you find the strength to breathe it out, “...I’m a princess.”
There’s this moment again, when you hold your breath and wait for his reaction; like when you first told him your name. Suddenly, it feels like you’re in the kitchen eating sandwiches with him again.
And, just as it did back then, his reaction surprises you.
His expression barely changes, the only difference being the barely-there furrow of his brows in concern. 
“I know, love.” He says.
“What?!” You drop his hands in shock. “Since when?”
Sanji blinks. “Since the moment we met.”
“But, I—why did you pay everything back? Why didn’t you ever mention it?”
His eyes widen, “Ah, is that why you wouldn’t eat anything from me these past few weeks? I knew you couldn’t be allergic to pineberries.” 
“Sanji, answer the question.” You pout, and he rubs your arms in an attempt to soothe you.
It’s Sanji’s turn to compose himself, you notice. He looks like he wants for your time together to stay lighthearted, when the thoughts in his mind are far from it.
“You didn’t want to talk about your duties, so I never asked.” Sanji shrugs, but you can see him getting nervous. 
“As for reimbursing the ingredients, I suppose I was worried that… you wouldn’t think of our time together dearly if I was just another chef on your staff.” 
Your heart shudders when he lets out a shaky breath. Oh Sanji.
“But that’s the truth isn’t it? I am, and yet I—” He pauses, eyes searching yours desperately. “If I didn’t pay for it, I would be admitting that a chef was all I’d ever be to you.”
You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off. “I don’t regret it. I would make the same choice if I had to.” Through the mask, you can see his resolve, but his hands shake as he holds you.
“I didn’t expect to feel this strongly about you.” Sanji continues, “You’re just so lovely, making me feel like I could take on the world for you.”
With your hands quivering the slightest bit, you pull at the ribbon behind your head. Your mask clatters to the floor. Raising your hands towards him, you push his mask up until it’s off, revealing the face of the man who has completely enamoured you; body and soul and all.
You think back to how the colors lit him up beautifully, that one sunset you shared under that blossoming tree. And now, he’s still just as beautiful, in this greenhouse under the moon and the stars. 
You love him all the same as you did then and every moment before. With the weight from keeping secrets gone from your chest, you finally let yourself admit it out loud.
“I love you, Sanji.” You confess. “I’ll go with you, if you’ll take on the world.” You try to say it calmly, but tears build up in your eyes. “You mean so much to me. You’re my dream.”
Sanji inches you closer, wrapping one arm around your waist while his other hand cradles the back of your head. “I love you too. More than you could possibly imagine.”
You quip back at him while wrapping your arms around his neck, “I think I have a pretty good idea.”
Sanji leans in the same moment you do, lips meeting in a passionate kiss that sends sparks running through every inch of your being. He pulls you impossibly tighter against him, strong hands caressing your back and holding firm at your waist. Your fingers rake through his hair, touching him to make sure he’s real. He’s here. He loves you. He knew. He always knew.
That night, you realized that your favorite taste from Sanji is his lips on yours. But, once again, he won’t hear you tell him that.
…
Sanji first saw you when a ceremony was held to welcome the new palace staff.
Everyone’s attention had been on your sister, the queen. Understandably so, but his eyes always strayed back to you. You looked gorgeous, wearing a stunning dress perfect for a princess as yourself. A cape draped tastefully down your back. And your crown sparkled brightly under the sun; but try as it might, it couldn’t be as dazzling as you.
Sanji was drawn to you instantly, and he thought he would go on with his life never understanding why.
That is, until you walked into the kitchen at two in the morning to make a sandwich.
It would have been impossible for him to not recognize you. Regular office clothes or not, something was different in the way you carried yourself. It was difficult to miss.
Other people would have thought you appeared mundane. And yet, Sanji found you the most beautiful then.
Because you let yourself smile more when you don't wear your crown. 
But he won’t tell you that.
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tags: @songsofadelaide-archive @amitydoodlez @sweetexistentialism @writingmysanity @hotchocolattee @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kenkenmaaa @ay0nha @watercolorskyy @holymusicalmothman @appalost
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author's note (yes, again)♡— sooo, what do we think about sworn knight!zoro x princess!reader ? 👀
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cxrrodedcoffin ¡ 6 months ago
Text
Don’t Call Me Kid - Aaron Hotchner
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“don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby, look at this godforsaken mess that you made me.”
——
Likes are always appreciated but reblogs and feedback keep artists going!
Summary: Reader confesses their feelings for Hotch, they have an angsty yet adult conversation about it.
Word Count: 2.5k
A/N: I was originally not going to give this a happy ending but I got too sad writing it and changed my mind, also yes i’ve been writing a lot don’t criticize me lol
TW: alcohol mention, angst, age gap, slight physical touch (all respectful, nothing sexual), slight implied daddy issues, fem reader
Rating: G
——
Aaron Hotchner was not a man one could approach without a level head. He was rational, always thinking of the most reasonable course of action, weighing every outcome before making any decision. He had to be, as hasty decision-making had cost him more than he cared to discuss.
You knew that, you’d worked under him for two years now and although he didn’t discuss his private life all that frequently at work, these weekly team meetups at the local bar taught you more than enough about him as a person. The usual stoic head of the team was kind, funny, encouraging, albeit a bit quiet until he knew you a bit better.
About a year into your time with the team you let slip that you’d never explored the city, and Rossi wasted no time letting Aaron know about it. A week later he was driving you around, explaining the history behind the popular monuments you had requested a visit to, then spending an hour at the Folger Shakespeare Library to admire the historic architecture and impressive selection of literature, and ending the day at the Moongate Garden, watching the sunset on a bench surrounded by cherry blossoms.
From that day you knew if there was anything you needed, all you had to do was ask. He’d shown you your favorite restaurant, the coffee shop you sat in every free morning you had, reading books he’d suggested you read. You didn’t want to admit it, but you had fallen hard for him, and over the last year those feelings became harder and harder to push down.
It was 2 a.m. and the bartender had announced last call, earning a disappointed groan from Penelope.
“We were just getting started!” She whined, her speech slightly slurred.
“You’ve had more than enough for tonight Babygirl, let’s get you home.” Derek caught her waist, steadying her as she rose from the booth the team had been sitting in.
“I better get going too, Will has to work early so I have to take Henry to school in the morning.” JJ added, playfully rolling her eyes.
The rest of the group finished up their drinks, wrapping up the current conversation before shuffling out of the bar. You said your goodbyes, giving parting hugs before pulling out your phone, ready to order yourself a rideshare home. Your cell service was almost non-existent and the app was taking forever to load, the chill in the air causing goosebumps to form on your bare legs. You raised your phone in the air, trying to gain a better signal as you walked back and forth in front of the bar, growing increasingly frustrated.
Aaron exited the bar as you made another pass by the entrance, tripping as your ankle wobbled in your heels. He was quick to catch you, helping you find your footing once more.
“Do you have a ride home?” He asked, offering you his suit jacket for warmth.
“I’m trying to order a taxi but the app won’t load.” Your frustration was evident, each tap of your finger against the glass of your smartphone just a little too firm.
“You don’t live far, correct? I can walk you home.” He offered, his hand still lingering on the small of your back to steady you. You weren’t drunk, not by a long shot, but you didn’t handle your liquor the best and although you were mostly there mentally, your center of gravity had been better.
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to go out of your way for me.” You countered, always raised to decline at least once when offered anything to remain polite.
“I want to make sure you get home safe, it’s really no trouble.” You knew he was earnest, always such a father figure to every member of the team. You put your phone in your bag, throwing it over your shoulder before turning to walk down the street that led to your apartment building.
You walked in silence for a while, his hand hovering behind you just in case your clumsiness kicked in along your walk. His suit jacket was surprisingly warm, the stiff fabric shielding your bare arms from the cold. You weren’t sure why you’d chosen to wear a short sleeved blouse when it was nearing the end of fall, but you suspected it subconsciously had something to do with how well the v-neck showed off your cleavage. You felt a bit pathetic sometimes, finding any way you could to attempt to pull his attention. It never worked, Aaron respected you too much to stare at your figure no matter how provocatively you dressed.
After a few blocks your heel caught on a storm grate, making you stumble forward. His reflexes were impressive as ever, his arm reaching out to catch your waist.
“I swear I’m not usually this clumsy.” You joked, straightening your skirt as you started again on your journey home. He didn’t say anything, but the slight smile his lips formed told you he found your try at humor in an awkward moment amusing.
“It’s just around this corner, I’ll be fine from here.” You tried to wave him off, dying to disappear into your apartment to prevent further embarrassing yourself.
“I’m walking you up to your apartment, I need to see you home safe.” He stated, turning the corner with you. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, his domineering yet caring tone making your heart race. This was all becoming too much, the protectiveness, the slight touches, you could feel something burning in your chest, the urge to spill your guts growing stronger by the minute.
He waited for you to punch in the code to the front door of your apartment building before holding it open for you, following you to the elevator up to your floor. You took the quiet ride up, him continuing to follow you down the hallway to your apartment when the doors opened. You opened your bag, fiddling around for your keys for a moment before finding them, your hand shaking as you tried to unlock the door. You finally got it, pushing open the front door and stepping into your messy living room.
“How are you getting home?” You asked, setting your bag on the small table next to the door.
“I’ll order a taxi, I’m just glad you’re home safe.” He began to pull out his phone, and the liquid courage coursing through your veins told you to invite him in.
“Do you want to come in while you wait?” You offered, handing his suit coat back to him. He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him and making sure to lock it, never too cautious.
He laid his suit coat over the back of your coach, taking a seat before taking out his phone again to order his ride.
“It won’t be ready for another 30 minutes, I hope I’m not overstaying my welcome.” He was far too courteous, and all you wanted to do was tell him how badly you wanted him to stay forever.
“You could never.” You told him, kicking off your heels before sitting next to him on the couch. You took a deep breath, trying to settle yourself as you picked up the book that was resting on your coffee table. You watched over the top of the pages to see him glancing around the room, scanning the contents until he stopped on the media console across the room. He stood from his place next to you and walked over to it, taking a knee to get down to the same level as your record collection.
“You have impressive taste.” He stated matter-of-factly, his long fingers brushing across the spines of each album. You gave a quiet ‘thank you’ as he began to pull a record out, and you placed your book down again to see what had caught his eye.
“I didn’t know you listened to The Beatles.” He held up the jacket of the band’s white album, looking to you in slight disbelief.
“Of course, The White Album is one of the greatest of all time.” You were excited to talk music with him, it was a topic you’d never discussed before and you were always eager to learn more about him. That may have been to your own detriment, because the more you learned about him, the harder you seemed to fall.
You knew a relationship between the two of you could never happen, he was your superior, not to mention twenty years your senior, but something felt like it was pulling you to him no matter how many guys you tried to distract yourself with.
“You never fail to surprise me.” He smiled, the outer corners of his eyes crinkling just so. You could’ve died right there, content to collapse into a puddle of yearning. You didn’t know what came over you, but you found yourself clearing your throat as a rush of adrenaline coursed through you.
“Aaron, I have to tell you something.” Your voice shook, but you remained strong in your conviction.
His faint smile turned to a look of concern, quickly rising from his knee to join you on the couch again.
“What is it?” He questioned, brow furrowed as he angled his body toward you.
“I-It’s, nevermind.” That burst of adrenaline quickly faded, his eyes on you feeling like a cigarette burn.
“Y/N, whatever it is, you can trust me. I understand if you’re not comfortable telling me, but don’t let fear hold you back on my account.” He reassured you, resting his hand on your knee sympathetically. You had to do it, there was no way you could face him every day if you brushed him off without an explanation.
“I’m in love with you.” You blurted out, hanging your head, too afraid of what his reaction would be to dare look him in the eye. The silence that sat between you two felt like it carried on forever, tension thick enough to cut with a knife. After what felt like an eternity he cleared his throat, still holding his hand on your knee.
“Why do you feel that way?” He asked, trying to understand where this was coming from. He couldn’t deny that he had felt chemistry between you, but it wasn’t something he could ever entertain acting on.
“Over the last year I’ve gotten to know you in ways I never dreamed I would, I’ve never felt this way for anyone before, even those I once thought I loved in the past. You’ve been so kind, Aaron, you’re an incredible friend, father, leader, how could I be anything but amazed by you?” You felt as though you were rambling, but he seemed so invested in your answer that you didn’t care if what you said was rational.
“I understand.” He confirmed, turning silent as the gears turned in his mind. You could tell he was fighting something internally, the look of concentration on his face seeming almost painful.
You pulled your knee out from under his hand, your nerves convinced that he was looking for a way to fire you without creating an HR nightmare. As quickly as you pulled away he had moved closer to you, his hand finding its place on your knee once more.
“Look at me.” He said, thumb rubbing soothing circles against your skin. You did as you were told, tears threatening your waterline as you did your best to hold his gaze.
“I’m not going to lie to you, you are a very charming young woman and I’d be honored to pursue something more intimate with you, but we can’t. I’m your superior, and you’re young enough to be my daughter.” He explained, the pain in his expression serving to break your heart in two.
“I don’t care.” You were not thinking rationally in that moment, your heart speaking for you instead of your head.
“You should, this is your future.” His tone held frustration this time, finding your childish response disappointing.
“I am not a child Aaron, I can make my own decisions.” You told him, a tear slipping down your cheek as you grew increasingly frustrated with his stonewalling.
“I know that, but you’re young, you have so much to experience and you shouldn’t put that on hold for me, or anyone else for that matter.” Even through his anger he was just trying to steer you in the responsible direction, thinking more about your future than whatever desires he held.
“I have all I’ve ever wanted, my dream has always been to work for the FBI. I don’t have any delusions of grandeur, I never have. I want a job where I’m doing good and a family to come home to when all is said and done.” You explained, and it wasn’t a lie. It’s not that you weren’t driven, you clearly had to be to even make it to the bureau, but that was as far as you wanted your drive to take you.
“For this to work, I can not be your boss, and I won’t ask you to step down.” He continued evaluating each possible risk in your dynamic, and for once you were one step ahead of him.
“You don’t have to, I put in for a transfer to the financial crime unit last week.” You finally let the other secret you’d been keeping slip, and you watched his face drop in disappointment.
“The team is going to miss you more than you know.” He told you, wishing he had known so he could have convinced you otherwise.
“I know, but I couldn’t bare the thought of being around you every day while I feel like this, and I was fascinated by the way their team handled the case we partnered with them on last month. The timing felt right.” You explained, needing him to know that it was not his fault, but a conscious decision you made.
“I just want to try.” You pleaded one last time, hoping he’d let his walls down just this once.
“If this is really what you want, I’ll take you out next weekend. If we’re going to do this, I’m going to do it the right way, you deserve that much.” He gave in, letting himself do something personally risky for the first time in years.
“I would love that.” You agreed, all of the anger and frustration that had been building up over the last year finally starting to dissipate ever so slightly.
How it would pay off, only time would tell, but for now, you were content to just get to know him more and show him who you are the best you can.
——
Part 2 can be found here
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