#it translates well with the iconic eyes and his lazy smile

[ennaku-sirri-da]

[ ID: Digital fanart of a headshot of Dr Habit from Smile For Me the game made till slightly above his chest. Its in a 3 by 4 view. This is a furry version of him as a borzoi dog. The style is simple, smooth and cartoony.

Habit grins easily, his tongue out and eyes looking calm, ears flopping at a lower level. His figure is done in a light, pale grayscale except for the black hat. BG is a mild orange-yellow. End ID]

What if i made him into a fursuit

What if he had a little voice clip that played if you pinch him nose....

[harrysrealbo]

Chapter two

welcome :)

word count: 1165

cross posted on wattpad

warnings: badly translated french

3

Monaco Grand Prix; 23 May 2021

The soft rays of the morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the room. The subtle hum of the city below signaled the beginning of another day in the iconic principality. I stirred from my slumber, blinking away the remnants of sleep as I became aware of Charles Leclerc's presence beside me.

"mon ange," Charles whispered softly, his hand trailing up and down my back with a gentle touch. The endearment sent a shiver down my spine, a sweet refrain that had become a familiar melody in the symphony of our relationship.

I turned to face him, meeting those hazel eyes that held a warmth and tenderness unique to him. "We need to get up," he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of reluctance, as if he wished to prolong the cocoon of intimacy we had created.

I sighed, not quite ready to relinquish the comfort of the bed. "Can't we stay here a bit longer?" I suggested, my fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest.

Charles chuckled, the sound reverberating through the room. "As much as I'd love that, we have a race to attend, my love."

The reality of the day ahead settled in, and I groaned playfully. "Do we have to? Can't we just stay in bed and avoid the chaos of the paddock?"

He chuckled again, leaning in to press a soft kiss on my forehead. "I wish we could, but duty calls."

I playfully slapped his chest, feigning annoyance. "Always prioritizing the car over me."

He grinned, those watercolored eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, you know how it is. The car doesn't complain about my driving." 

I couldn’t help but laugh shaking my head as he pulls me closer to him, the lazy kisses he pressed against my cheeks only making my giggles grow. 

Finally relenting, Charles reluctantly untangled himself from the embrace, our laughter lingering in the air as we began the process of getting ready for the day. 

As Charles reached for his Ferrari polo, I pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder. "Good luck today," I murmured, my lips grazing his skin.

He turned to me, his gaze tender. "You know you're my lucky charm."

I smirked, playfully rolling my eyes. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Leclerc."

The room was filled with a comfortable silence, punctuated by shared glances and tender touches as we moved in sync. There was a familiarity in the routine, a dance we had perfected over time.  It was moments like these, the quiet morning rituals, that I cherished the most. Despite the glamour and intensity of the Formula 1 world, it was these stolen moments of normalcy that grounded us.

"You take forever to get ready," I teased, reaching for my bag with a playful glint in my eyes.

Charles chuckled, his fingers deftly working through the buttons of his polo. "Well, you know, a man must look presentable."

As he fluffed his unruly hair, I couldn't resist running my fingers through the dark waves, a fond smile playing on my lips. "Presentable, huh? I thought the messy look was in."

He grinned, capturing my hand and pressing a kiss to my knuckles. "Not when you're dating Charles Leclerc, it seems."

The leather seats of the Ferrari enveloped us as Charles and I settled into the car for the short ride to the paddock. The hum of the engine provided a steady soundtrack to our morning ritual, and the anticipation for the day ahead vibrated in the air.

I glanced at Charles, his focus momentarily on the road ahead. I reached for the small bag of candies nestled between us, my fingers brushing against his as we both reached for a piece. The familiar banter began, as it always did, with Charles playfully accusing me of stealing the best ones.

"You can't just pick out all the carmel ones, Amelia. That's cheating!" he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

I grinned, popping a candy into my mouth. "I have a sixth sense for the best ones. It's a skill, really."

Charles chuckled, his hand finding mine in the shared space between us. Soft touches, familiar and comforting, as the scenery of Monaco passed by in a blur.

Charles and I sat side by side, the air thick with anticipation, though our conversation flowed with the ease of familiarity.

As we approached a stop sign, I shifted in my seat, my mind briefly drifting away from the race ahead. Charles, ever vigilant, noticed my distraction. "Hey," he said, his voice soft, "buckle up, mon ange."

I shot him a half-smile, my fingers absentmindedly playing with the edge of the seatbelt. "I'll do it in a sec."

But Charles, always the responsible one, wasn't having it. His hand reached over, fingers deftly securing the seatbelt across my chest. "Safety first, love."

I laughed, a musical sound that filled the car. "You're one to talk. You're never buckled unless you have to be."

He grinned, his eyes dancing with mischief. "But I am not...​​comment disent-ils... precious cargo."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Oh, so now I'm precious cargo?"

Charles leaned in, his lips grazing my temple. "Always have been, always will be."

The warmth of his touch lingered, a comforting presence as we navigated the winding streets of Monaco. The banter continued, a dance of shared jokes and shared history that defined the unspoken connection between us.

As we approached the paddock, the atmosphere in the car shifted. Charles nodded to himself, a determined look in his eyes. "I'll win this one."

I nodded in agreement. "Of course, Cha. For Jules and your papa, and most importantly, for yourself too."

"And for you too." He grinned at me, his hand guiding mine out of the car.

"For me?" I couldn't help but smile at his words. 

"Everything I do, I do for you." Charles held my hand to his heart for a moment, the sincerity in his gaze undeniable, before placing a chaste kiss on my lips. "Your name is on my helmet too, no?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "Always so sweet, Cha."

As we walked through the paddock, Charles's hand intertwined with mine, the camaraderie and shared history of our journey in Formula 1 surrounded us. The air was charged with excitement, and as we approached the Ferrari garage, I couldn't shake the warmth that Charles's words had ignited within me. The paddock, with its familiar sights and sounds, welcomed us back into the fold of the racing world, where love, dedication, and the pursuit of victory intertwined on the asphalt of Monaco.

It wasnt until we had found our place in the Ferrari garage that Charles wrapped an arm around my waist. "You know, I think the car likes having you around. We always seem to do well when you're here."

I raised an eyebrow, teasing him. "Are you saying I bring good luck?"

"Absolutely. You're my lucky charm." He grinned, his gaze filled with affection.

[sukirichi]

dutifully yours. [01]

Attached to the could’ve been’s of a promised happily ever after with the Crown Prince disguised under a scheme for power and greed, you are torn between choosing your happiness — or abandoning it to fulfill your duty as the future Queen.

→ unedited bcos i’m brave lazy. implied patriarchy. angst in future chapters. pure romance and fluff for now. royalty au. eventual smut. prince naoya !! i love him sm i could cry. this fic will break me, okay. naoya is close to canon but with my twist if that makes sense. drama in future chapters. oh and listen to this while reading <3

→ massive shoutout to my besties for always hyping me and helping me uwu, i present this token of prince naoya being an ideal husband okay cry cry i love him sm im crying. anyways pls enjoy bcos i poured my heart out to this and bcos i want more people in the naoya fucker club :>

one | next (to be posted)

Ever since the day your mother taught you how to read, you’ve had your nose buried in a book. Losing yourself in different worlds, swooning over fictional princes, and fantasizing for a love story ripped out of fairytale itself with such burning, passionate romance – you’d been through it all, dreamt of it all. And yet, you struggled to stop yourself from tugging at your dress.

The tight corset hadn’t even been the main focus of your worries, and neither was the heavy rivière resting on your collarbones.

“Would you stop fidgeting?” Beside you, your mother pursed her lips, fingers decorated with jewels stopping in their movements of fanning herself. The temperature hadn’t been particularly high inside the limousine that evening. You supposed it was the mere sight of you tugging and gulping audibly every now and then, gloved hands running over the hems of your collar.

You ducked your head down. “Sorry, Mother. I can’t help it.”

“Dear, your anxiety is written all over your face,” she sighed, turning your face to her as she cupped your cheeks. Smiling tenderly like a mother always did, your heart felt soothed even by the slightest bit. You wished she could keep holding you like this – like you were a fragile flower she was afraid of breaking; a fragile flower that needed more care handled than most. Tonight, however, you felt a hundred years older. Like you’d accidentally clicked on fast forward and got launched to the future. A future that seemed so unclear yet so...perfect. So right.

“How would the Prince fancy you if you’re sweating bullets like that? It’s not a good look for a marquess’ daughter.”

At the mention of the Crown Prince, your heart sank again. “My apologies, Mother. I’m just rather nervous. It’s the Crown Prince we’re talking about here.”

“He is quite the looker, isn’t he?” she giggled behind her fan, “Strong and handsome, as well.”

“My ladies. You are not fantasizing over the Crown Prince in my presence, are you?”

Crossing her leg over the other, your mother leaned forwards, elbows on her knees as she winked at your father. The marquess had his torso half twisted from the passenger seat, glaring playfully at your mother’s unabashed features. “It is of no seriousness, My Lord. I’m simply easing your daughter’s nerves.”

Your father sighed in worry. “What’s got you so worked up, child? You are beautiful. The Prince would be blind to not notice you.”

Each fibre in your body screamed in desperation for your father to be right. Tonight was not just any other night – the entire Kingdom, including noblewomen, foreign royals, and unwed daughters from honourable families had been invited to the Zen’in Castle for one purpose only: to find his Crown Prince a suitable wife, one that would be fit to be the next Queen as well. As the daughter of the marquess, you’d naturally received the invitation. It felt just like yesterday when the mail arrived and you’d cheered so much in joy the chickens went flying out of their coops, your horses galloping and whinnying at surprise, and now you here – minutes away from the palace where you were soon to be deemed worthy or unworthy to be beside His Highness.

With a shaky smile, you dug your nails into your thighs. “Well, we’ve only met once, Father. I doubt the Prince would remember me.”

“Just smile, darling. You will do great.”

To no one’s surprise, the Zen’in Castle brimmed with people and esteemed guests. Men and women danced with one another as muted chatters and chuckles blended in with the grand royal orchestra, everyone dressed to the nines and making you feel completely out of place.

The moment you’d been welcomed by the knights and led to the palace doors, your dress began to feel tighter than usual, your ribs clenching uncomfortably from the pressure. Your hands had not stopped trembling either, not even when you hid it behind your back and nodded at the people passing by. There were governor-generals, dukes, earls, professors and royal advisors and even families of the royal family’s inner circle of knights. Everyone looked like they belonged here. Chatting amongst one another over the finest of wines or discussing conspiracies on where the Kingdom of Zen’in would be in the next sixty years of the future King’s reign, no one here seemed to be out of place.

Everyone except you.

A warm hand was suddenly placed on the small of your back, making you gasp. Your mother’s smile was nothing short of warm as she held you close to her one last time, leaving a kiss on your forehead. You didn’t even realize how much you shook until she clasped her hands with yours. “Calm down, dear,” she reminded, “You’ll be on your own now. This is where we leave you since we’re not supposed to mingle with potential princesses.”

“Mother!” Your eyes widened in embarrassment. Looking around frantically, you bit your lip in fear someone must’ve heard.

Of course, while it would be no surprise most guests – if not all – hoped that their daughter would be the Crown Prince’s chosen fiancée, it still felt wrong to boldly assume such when you could barely keep up with the events of tonight.

However, your mother merely laughed. “I am proud of you, dear. Never forget that. It doesn’t matter whether you are chosen or not. We’re only here for formality and respect to the King and Queen’s demands.”

“You say that as if the Crown Prince really would not bother with me.”

“We didn’t mean that,” your father cut in, a flute of champagne already nested between his calloused fingers. Ever since you arrived, he’d been snatched away by fellow earls and barons, disappearing into the crowd for a ‘hearty conversation over one’s lands.’ You knew better than that, though. That statement always translated to which leader got to have more chances to wine and dine with the King, to which your family was ridiculously reminded of that you’d been stationed to the most faraway land where even hearing news from the royal papers was but a privilege.

“Just be yourself, alright? And enjoy the party. It’s about time you met with girls your own age and made some friends.”

“I – Father, wait!”

A slender young woman slithered to your side out of nowhere, her golden brown eyes following the silhouettes of your parents. It wasn’t long before they completely disappeared. Left alone with the stunning woman that was – for some reason – dressed in a plain black curve hugging dress too modest for tonight’s appropriateness, you took three steps away in caution. “You must be from way up North,” she noted, her head to the tipped to the side. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

God, was she beautiful. Long, thick eyelashes and short hair chopped in messy yet elegant curves, you struggled to hold her gaze. “Oh, yes, I come from the Terratian Borders. My family is stationed there under His Majesty’s orders.”

She hummed to herself. “The Terratian Borders are mostly forests and fields, no? The last time my family and I visited there, I came across the loveliest dandelions I’ve ever laid eyes on. Shame they died on the way back,” offering her hand – again, bare and empty with decorations yet still littered with faint scars and cuts – she beamed at you. “I’m Mai, by the way. Mai Zen’in.”

Zen’in?

Hands cupping your mouth, you bowed deep until your back ached. “Lady Mai!” you shut your eyes closed, unable to live with the shame. Mai Zen’in; one of the iconic twin pair from the extended Zen’in royal family, both a fashion icon and a legend for being a rumoured female knight. To have her in your presence was an honour. “My apologies for not recognizing you any sooner, Lady Mai!”

“Stand up, I’m not a royal,” she sniggered, “We’re just relatives of the actual monarch, but don’t let the family name fool you. The Crown Prince barely even acknowledges us being of the same blood.”

Albeit hesitant, you followed her gestures of making you stand up. You straightened your back and cleared your throat, fighting the urge to go haywire the moment his name was brought into the conversation. Not only would you be seeing Prince Naoya again in real life for the first time in years, but you’d also made acquaintances with his distant niece. However, his name was spoken with malice.

Frowning, you faced Lady Mai in all seriousness. “Prince Naoya? Why so?” Lady Mai looked at you like you’d grown two heads.

“He’s an ass, that’s why.”

“I-I don’t think he is,” you defended, “The Prince has been nothing but kind to me.”

“I didn’t know he was capable of kindness,” she muttered more so under her breath, low enough you were unsure whether you were supposed to hear it in the first place. Lady Mai then shook her head to herself before stealing a flute from a waiter passing by. Chucking it your way, her face turned dark and grim. “Take it as free advice: stay as far away from his as possible. The Crown Prince is nothing but good news.”

“Is it because he has lots of lovers?” you inquired with a small voice, “Uhm – well – It was an assumption. With a title and handsomeness like that, it would make sense everyone would want to be the Crown Prince’s lover.”

Lady Mai’s lip curled upwards. “Prince Naoya won’t bother with lovers. He is too occupied for that.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Heard from whom?”

“The Royal Declaration from His Majesty himself,” you said, “Was it not the purpose of this ball? To find worthy candidates to be the Crown Prince’s betrothed? His coronation is coming soon.”

“Right. I forgot today was technically a bridal market,” she scratched the edge of her brow, falling silent for a moment. Her eyes scanned the lively crowd for a brief moment – watching with you as everyone laughed and danced to their heart’s content – the grand final event of the routine personal dance with the Crown Prince himself slowly approaching to reality. “You are joining in the festivities, are you not? Later, when he arrives, he shall meet you.”

“I am obligated to as a noble bachelorette, though I doubt His Highness would even look my way. There are far richer noblewomen here and even daughters of duke that would be perfect as his wife. ”

“You may have a point for that,” she hummed to herself, unaware that her agreement to the Crown Prince not paying attention to you left a sting both in your ego and heart. Not that it lasted long, for Lady Mai was already tugged on the arm by another equally fiercely beautiful woman – her older twin, Maki Zen’in. Soon to be governon-general of the Kingdom.

Lady Mai smiled in apology. “I need to go now since I’m not a part of this event. But hey, if ever I come around to visit the Borders again, perhaps you could entertain me?”

“I would be honoured to, Lady Mai.”

“You are sweet and innocent,” it was her sister who spoke this time, glasses perched high on her nose that concealed the wariness of her gaze. “I hope the Crown Prince never gets to your routine.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s nothing; she was talking to herself. Maki does that a lot,” Lady Mai’s forced chuckles were barely heard from the music. “You enjoy the party now. Don’t drink too much lest you want to embarrass yourself in everyone’s eyes and be talk of the Kingdom. Prince Naoya would hate it if you took the attention away from him.”

“Oh, uhm...”

“It’s a joke, Lady Y/N. Relax.”

You bowed once more. “My apologies.”

“The dance is about to begin,” Maki tapped on your shoulder, making you look up right where her eyes zeroed in. And exactly in the middle of the grandiose hall, under the sparkling golden chandeliers where he made all the gold in the world look incomparable next to him, the Crown Prince stood in his fully glory. Blond hair with the ends stained of midnight gelled back to reveal his forehead, the Crown Prince’s beauty never failed to shine. Whether it be in the papers, in the tabloids, in the billboards that you passed on the way to the city, or from way back when you met him for the first time as a naive, innocent teen – Crown Prince Naoya came straight out of a magazine cover.

In the back of your head, you could hear either of the twins murmuring good luck. Maybe both of them had said it – you had no idea. All of your attention, all the sensibility and coherence of your state had been switched the next instant, as if your heart and soul was born for the sole purpose of being bewitched by your Crown Prince.

And as if feeling someone’s gaze on him, the Crown Prince’s eyes trailed over the crowd. Almost boredly, his sharp eyes bounced from one giggling woman to another, the ends of his lips smirking upwards for just the tiniest bit. It must’ve stroked his ego. Until his eyes connected with yours. The Crown Prince’s eyebrows knitted together. You had no idea how you looked in that moment, and quite frankly, you didn’t care. Because the Crown Prince was looking at you, and you were looking at him with hearts in your eyes along with your heart pulsing at the tip of your tongue.

“Let us begin,” his lips moved from the distance, “Play the music. I shall dance with my bride.”

The air shifted in a split second. Murmurs were thrown over the room, women and men alike turning pale. Even the orchestra was stunned from the Crown Prince’s entrance – and it hadn’t even been dramatic to his standards – yet the whole castle fell mum from just a few of his words. A few seconds later, the crowd recomposed itself, and the strings began to dance along with its bows.

You are pushed into the crowd. Nearly colliding into the arms of another, you quietly thank the masked man who was to be your first partner of the night.

All the men joining the dance floor dressed with the intention of making the Crown Prince shine. Prince Naoya stood out from the throng of white as per the colour code, his blood red uniform as both Prince with the  golden crest of the military leader pinned to his right breast. The other men meant to be filler partners until all the potential brides got to their designated three minutes with the Prince were all dressed in black, faces covered behind a plain black mask. None were allowed to talk. None were allowed to utter even a word, and so your partner pursed his lips in displeasure at your apology.

Whatever. You just had to wait a few more rounds before the song finished and transitioned into a new one; the song where you’d been informed would be your time alone with the Prince.

You’d been so lost in your head you barely breathed the entire dance. From partner to partner, you blanked. Your heart drummed so wildly in its cage it begged to come out, and strings of apologies were let out each time your masked partners grimaced for a brief second when their hands came in contact with your sweaty ones. Around you, all the lovely women smiled and danced graciously, mouths moving in unreadable conversations shared with the Crown Prince. Not once did you look at the six partners you’ve danced with. Not once did you worry about tripping on your own feet. Not once did you care that some of the masked men held you a little too roughly for your comfort. Your entire reason for existing in that moment was to witness the Crown Prince himself, mirroring his frown that got deeper and deeper with each woman retreating to the sea of people he’d rejected.

Not once did you even think about being one of them – the girls who’ve ducked their heads down as their parents comforted them over not being the chosen one, of bringing ‘dishonour’ to their families that the mighty Crown Prince had deemed them unworthy. Tears streamed down their faces until black ink followed afterwards, lips trembling from silent sobs.

Despite their broken prides – although there was that minority who simply sighed in relief after returning to their own families – no one would dare interrupt the Crown Prince’s dances.

All of these thoughts crossed your mind too late and at the exact time your masked partner pulled away from you, body half bent in a bow with his arm outstretched to the side. Following where he was gesturing at, your eyes met the Crown Prince’s tall and lean stature, a few blond fringes now fallen from his movements.

Even though a thin layer of sweat shone from his face, Prince Naoya remained ethereal.

And like a snake charmed by the musician’s seductive tone, your feet moved on its own. Fingers stretching until it met with the Crown Prince’s large and warm ones, you were now in front of him. With him. Holding him, touching him, meeting him eye for eye and realizing – gold. His eyes burned a deep shade of gold, elegantly rich and heartbreakingly stunning your heart ached.

Before you knew it, your hands began to tremble, feeling as if your body had been corded into a corset three sizes smaller. You could not breathe, and the Crown Prince took notice.

“You are stiff. Do I make you uncomfortable?” Good Saint. If only possible, you would’ve closed your eyes and basked in the deep warmth of his voice. It reverberated from deep within, breathed out with an air of natural authority and profound confidence it made your knees weak. As if sensing his effect on you (though for the wrong reasons, it seemed), Prince Naoya hummed to himself. “This routine shall last for a few minutes before I can let you go, I’m afraid.”

You instantly realized the implications of your silence. “N-not at all, Your Highness! I am honoured to be dancing with you.”

“There is no honour in a choreographed dance. Everyone will dance with me. It’s nothing special.”

Your heart fell. Prince Naoya not only sounded dejected, but detached as well. As if he found no pleasure or specialty in this event, at a time where he had every opportunity to meet his lover, and that this ball was merely a task to be checked off in his already long list of responsibilities. It wasn’t disappointment, per se, but rather melancholy that left a bitter taste in your mouth. Not because Prince Naoya held little to no regards for something you treasured, but because he sounded terribly alone. Like he was simply waiting for it to end out of discomfort.

“It’s special to me, Your Highness,” you blurted out faster than you could stop yourself. For a moment, you feared you may have offended him, but the Crown Prince only laughs.

And when he did – saint, when he laughed – his eyes crinkled into half moons, pearly whites flashing against the bright lights and his whole chest shook with amusement.

You’d never seen him smile this way before.

Prince Naoya’s laughter didn’t cease. Around you, your gut instincts told that people were now beginning to look; the Crown Prince’s deep rumbles of laughter sounded exquisitely like music as well, after all. “ Is it special to you because you are now dancing and within the Crown Prince’s proximity? As much as I presume how exhilarating it might be for those who mostly see me in the papers and in the tabloids, I assure you, dancing with your Prince is not an honour. Especially when you are all sent the invitations based on your status and not your worthy traits.”

“It’s special to me,” you mumbled, growing shy all of a sudden when the Crown Prince nodded at you to continue. “Because...because it reminds me of the first time we met.”

The Crown Prince hummed in amusement.

“We have met before?”

“Yes, Your Highness. I’m from the Terratian Borders – my father is a loyal servant of His Majesty. You visited the borders when you were eighteen and I was sixteen. Do you remember it, Your Highness? You stormed in my private library.”

Indeed, the young barely-out-of-his-teens Crown Prince barged into your home’s library years ago. You were not previously informed he and his parents would be visiting since they arrived wordlessly, so you were stuck in your chambers as usual, killing time if not for sleeping and tending to the animals. Perched on a ladder, you attempted to reach for a book on the upper shelf when your foot slipped beneath you. At the age of sixteen, you were dramatic enough to say your life flashed before your eyes. You would’ve screamed then had strong arms not appeared out of nowhere, the Crown Prince staring at you with wide, golden eyes as they were now, his breathy rasped as he asked, are you okay, my lady?

The mere recollection of that fateful memory had your cheeks warming in delight. “You were so charming and heroic back then. Even when I had no idea you were a royal, I would have still believed you to be princely,” you said rather absentmindedly, blinking once then twice at your words. “Of course, it’s understandable if you do not remember, Your Highness!”

“My apologies. I do not remember, though Terratia is a wonderful place. Such a shame I was not informed beforehand they had a lovely daughter.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” you cheered back, cheeks and jaw beginning to ache from how wide you were smiling. But could anyone blame you? You felt absolutely silly that you were a breath away from passing out minutes ago, and now here you were, dancing with the Crown Prince and sharing memories with him like it was a daily occurrence. The words it’s true love when you feel at peace with them suddenly rang back at your head from that latest romance novel you read, and you turned away, hoping the Crown Prince would not read your thoughts to your face. However, Prince Naoya’s lips pursed into a thin line, all traces of humour now disappeared. “I’m sorry – should I not have laughed?”

“No, I don’t mind,” he mused with his jaw locked tight, “I just haven’t seen anyone react that way before.”

“Like what?”

“Like my words meant the entire universe to them. I may dare even say you look terribly in love, though I cannot blame you on that one, can I?”

Prince Naoya shook his head the minute the words left his mouth. Forcing himself to believe it couldn’t be real, perhaps, you truly did not know anymore. Your only plan for tonight was to see the Crown Prince and get to live out your dream of seeing him once more even for just a brief moment before you travelled back home while he married another, and yet – “Your Highness, I’m in love with you. I have always been since the day we met.”

You could no longer stop the words. The voice at the back of your head begged you to shut up and not cause a scene, that your time had passed up and people were staring, yet you remained in his arms no matter how much you wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole.

“Please do not misunderstand me, Your Highness. I did not come here to attempt to steal your heart and be your wife, though I will admit I have dreamt of meeting you again for so many moons. I...I only want to tell you this. That I love you and even though it was a brief moment, I think the love I’ve always read about felt real and possible for the first time in my life,” chuckling nervously, you gather to courage to face him, adoration shining for the Crown Prince stood shock still before you, however stunned he may be. “I love you, Your Highness. I love you. And to whoever lucky woman you choose to be your betrothed, I hope she takes care of you and showers you with all the affection you are deserving of. You would make a great King. So God help his Crown Prince, and may you lead us all into a better world.”

Prince Naoya did not budge a muscle. His eyes remained hard on yours, breath warm as his nostrils fumed. With each passing second that he did not speak, you grew restless and tugged your arm away from his hold with a disgraceful smile.

You’d truly crossed your line. The repercussions to be faced for this impoliteness would destroy your family’s honour. You had to leave. “Your Highness? The song has changed. It’s time to let go—”

The Crown Prince inched close enough until his hair tickled your cheeks, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he pulled you close, close enough that your lower bodies touched. Skin ablaze with heat, you dared not move an inch. “Do you mean it?” he demanded lowly, his fingers ghosting over your wrist to hold you in place. “Do you truly love me? Not for what I have, not for who I was born to be, but me as a person itself?”

Closing your eyes to shudder in a deep breath, you exhaled. “Of course, Your Highness. Even if you were not born as a Prince, I’m sure I would’ve still loved you in a different universe.”

“But I do not know you.”

“We don’t have to know each other, Your Highness, and we never will. Once you let me go, I’ll return to the shadows where I belong, and I will continue supporting you until the day of your coronation.”

“And if I refuse to let you go?” he clicked his tongue, “What will you do then?”

The Crown Prince’s spicy perfume must be an aphrodisiac or hypnotizer of sorts. Everything he did messed with your mind that it was too late – the music had stopped and people were no longer drinking or chatting. Everyone’s eyes were on you and the Crown Prince. You could only imagine how controversial this position must be; with his lips trailing dangerously close to that sensitive spot in your neck where you nearly moaned. You really needed to leave.

“P-people are looking, Your Highness. You do not want this affair with someone you won’t choose—”

“Who said I won’t choose you?” Finally, he pulled away. But Prince Naoya never once tore his gaze away from yours, nor did he allow you to look at anyone but him as he caresses your jaw so light and feathery you wondered if he was truly there.“Who said I haven’t laid my eyes on you the moment you walked in here? This ball is for naught because of you, Lady Y/N. I’ve already made my choice, and you helped me confirm it as soon as you danced with me.”

“Your Highness...”

“Look at me,” he ordered, your eyes flitting from his pinkish lips to his sharp nose and then to his fox-like gaze. Only this time, Prince Naoya was no longer harsh. “Don’t be scared.”

“But they’re looking.”

“You are with me, of course they’ll look,” he teased, “They wish to be you right now. But ignore them and dance one more time with me.”

It wasn’t like you had a choice, but did it matter? One nod from him was all it took before the orchestra fumbled back to their spots and a new song played, Ode of Moonlight Lovers, and the Crown Prince was guiding you back to where he had originally danced with you.

From the corners of your eyes, you caught a glimpse of your parents with their mouths gaped open; your father looking like he was on the verge of passing out. However, you felt nothing but joy, nothing but the adrenaline pumping through your veins as he danced and twirled you in his arms. When the music stopped and you were both panting for air with silly smiles on your face, it dawned on you that you were with the Prince. No, rather, it was only you and the Prince alone. Even in the sea of people whose faces began to blur, he prevailed crystal clear.

You could recognize him anywhere, find him everywhere.

Prince Naoya stepped impossibly closer until your chests touched, hearts beating as one. Cupping your jaw, he was near enough that he swallowed all your shaky breaths with a small, teasing smile like you both shared a secret the entire world could not know.

“Do I still make you nervous?”

Laughing, you nodded. “Yes, Your Highness. I feel like I’m going to explode.”

“It’s beloved now,” he corrected, face inching closer and closer to a point you could count the number of his lower lashes. “And what do lovers do to seal their union?”

“M-Marriage?”

“Close, but this is much better.”

If anyone were to tell you that you would have a love story ripped out straight from a fairytale, you would’ve laughed at their faces. You were no Cinderella, nor were you a goddess of beauty that could’ve possibly caught the Crown Prince’s eye. Yet, his soft lips were on yours, kissing you with as much passion you could only dream of that you cried.

Strong hands guiding the back of your waist, Prince Naoya dipped you lower to the ground – the grand of finish of his dance. He had chosen his bride.

The crowd cheered and rejoiced all around you, making you smile into the kiss. Fisting his collar to bring him closer to yours, your mouth burst into metaphorical fireworks as soon as his tongue mingled with yours for an experimental taste. He was bitter yet sweet; expensive wine resting on his tongue, yet a delicate vanilla sat heavily on his soft lips that molded with yours. It was a taste you could spend forever being addicted on. And you were crying, crying so much your chest ached and the Prince’s cheeks grew damp from yours. You’d dreamt of this for so long, too long now.

Prince Naoya slowly pulled you away, his thumb wiping the tears away from the pads of your cheeks with tenderness in his touch. However, the Prince was not satisfied. The crowd whooped as he leant down to kiss your forehead. “You are mine now, my princess.”

Looping his hands with yours, the Crown Prince led you out of the castle. The crowd parted naturally to make way for the new couple, and you were left staring at his broad back and the tuft of blond hair where you’d soon find out how soft it would be. Sending one last glance to your crying parents, you waved goodbye. You had no idea where the Crown Prince would take you but you were already bunching your dress up, heart completely filled with trust you did not question it. What mattered tonight and for the rest of your life was that it felt right. That it was him – your beloved Prince Naoya Zen’in and soon to be husband – that you’d follow through the moon and back.

[shotorozu]

Hello!! I hope you're doing well💕 Idk if this been requested before, headcanons about them having a stylish, fashionable s.o? You can choose the characters, tysm!!💖 For BNHA, if possible, please <3

fashionable s/o

character(s) : shinsou hitoshi, bakugou katsuki, todoroki shouto, midoriya izuku (bnha)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, quirk not mentioned

headcanon type : fluff (x reader)

note(s) : this isn’t that long, compared to most of my headcanons, but i did add four characters! will post more later

»»————-　♡　————-««

shinsou hitoshi

feels like a trashcan next to you.

in reality, his fashion sense is either top tier stuff, or something you can find at dollar tree

and when i mean that, i mean black sweatpants (that haven’t been washed in 2 days) and a black sweater, with a coffee stain on it to match

his fashion sense is quite lazy and comfortable, but that one outfit he wears on special occasions make up for it.

he smiles when he notices how you never-ever wear the same outfit twice in a row. at some point— assumed that you were also loaded.

and how you always find a way to make an ‘ugly’ outfit suddenly not ugly— he doesn’t know how you exactly do it.

hitoshi could look at an outfit in your closet and think “WHY did they buy this again?” but then in the following second, he could go

“oh, that’s why. they always know how to make it work.” since then, he has learned how to trust your sense in fashion

you could probably help him with his fashion sense, and he wouldn’t mind at all— just help him be consistent with it.

sometimes, he didn’t even know that a certain article of clothing would actually look good on him. the more you know

doesn’t mind it when people gawk at you, because of your very boujee✨sense of style. because, who wouldn’t look at you? they’d be missing out.

in short— he adores how you put so much effort with your clothes, and how you’re also effortlessly stylish

“but i’m dressed like a trashcan next to you,,” he’ll say with a hand resting on his nape, and you’ll reply with

“hitoshi, stop saying that.”

bakugou katsuki

appalled when he shows up to your dorm— and sees you wearing the fanciest pair of pajamas he has ever seen in his entire life.

“what the heck??”

“why, katsuki??”

“WHAT’S WITH THOSE FANCY PAJAMAS??”

his fashion sense is fine,, i mean— his parents are canonically fashion designers. so, you’d expect him to carry their sense of style

yes AND no. have y’all seen the official art of him carrying that large suit case? the fit was lowkey horrendous

rolls his eyes when he sees you wear something stylish to the grocery store— when he’s wearing a black tanktop and some sweatpants.

“seriously— is the outfit really necessary? you stand out too much.”

“is that a good thing?”

“not for me.”

okay but,, it’s not that bad as he says it is. he secretly loves seeing you pull up to dates in those nice clothes. he hasn’t seen you reuse the same outfit two times in a row.

but omg he hates having people gawk at you in public because of your clothes. that’s the part he despises the most

“this is what i didn’t like about your stupid style”

“oh? jealous, are we?”

“shut your trap.”

yes, you’re in fact— attractive. BUT THEY GOTTA KEEP THEIR EYES TO THEMSELVES

katsuki actually loves this part on you— but he grows irritated when his parents suddenly asked him if you were interested in modeling 💀

‘screw you and your fancy pants’ he’ll think to himself, when his parents are fawning over your sense of style.

todoroki shouto

shouto is also a fashion icon himself— so you two get a lot of attention for just,, looking fancy as heck, even in the mundane.

he didn’t really care about what you wore. you had the fashion sense of a white crusty family dog? well,, so what? he doesn’t care as long as you’re comfortable.

shouto noticed how you managed to make a plain piece of fabric a fashion statement— and wanted you to show him your closet

so when you do, he’s fascinated. your brain must be LARGE just thinking about what outfit combination you want to wear every single free day.

but he also thought you were like,, the emma chamberlain of fashion— he thought you created every single fashion trend out there today

when in reality, you just happened to know how to put your own touch on an outfit 💀

“what do you mean you didn’t bring back the brown pants trend?”

“shouto, for the last time— i didn’t do that,,”

he’s not convinced yet.

loves it when he walks into your room, and sees you mumbling to yourself on what you want to wear for a specific day— especially when you’re just wearing a sweater of his, instead of your own

even though you probably have 50 sweaters in there 💀

you need to fix your outfit in public? well, that’s not an issue! he’ll literally do it for you, with no hesitation.

fixes your collar when it gets caught in your bag’s strap, and also makes sure he doesn’t pull anything too tightly.

eventually buys you clothes, when he manages to map out your aesthetic, and what you like— even though anything looks good on you in his opinion

the class can only gawk at the two of you, when the class takes another shopping trip at the mall. i mean,, you both stick out!

“jeez. we look like goodwill mannequins next to them”

midoriya izuku

“that nerd’s fashion sense is lackluster at best.” — bakugou katsuki

i mean,, his fashion sense is simple. he never considered dressing in anything flashy— at least until he started dating you

he dressed in simple, and sometimes corny shirts— when you’re dressed in something he’d see in a luxurious clothing store.

he feels so,, out of place standing next to you. which you reassure that he doesn’t! but he can’t help but think that sometimes,,

because of that, he would be very willing if you decided to give him a clothing makeover!

he gets confused sometimes when he sees your closet like,, “i wonder what would this be paired with,,” but he knows to trust you with that

he’s just,, curious. that’s all.

has this fact written in his notebook— it has nothing to do with your quirk or anything related to that, but he does find it interesting

“Y/N wears a new outfit every weekend. i’ve never seen them wear the same outfit twice in a row! i wonder how that’s possible. i’ve seen their closet! and there’s a lot of things in there, and i just..” blah blah blah— when you came across that page, you were so flattered.

at first, he gets really sheepish when he’s standing next to you in public— because of the stares. but he learns to get used to it

“look, sweetheart! your style is nothing short of anything stylish.” he basically feeds you compliments on the daily— but who wouldn’t??

gets so happy when he sees you wear the clothes he bought you— even if he wasn’t so sure if someone as fashionable as you would wear it,,

to him, it’s overwhelming at first— but he does love how you look! he could talk about you all day and night. even if it annoys some people

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[apixrl]

MORNING CUDDLES.

eijirou kirishima x fem!reader

WARNING(S): none

word count: 2.8k

note(s): eiji and his partner call each other love 25/8 and no u cannot tell me otherwise >:(

italian translation - translator !!

Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep.

Your hand snuck its way out from under the duvet, blindly searching for your phone in order to shut off the nuisance that was your alarm. Once you did, you slowly let your eyes drift open and meet the blank canvas of the ceiling above.

The sun was peeking through the blinds off to the left side, causing streaks of light to form on your bedroom walls and bed itself. None of them obstructed your vision luckily, there was nothing worse than lying in bed only to have the sun blind you. A light snore interrupted your tiredness and caused your eyes to open wider, directing them off to the right to meet that of your boyfriend, Eijirou.

As per usual, he looked at peace during his state of slumber. His mouth hung slightly open to reveal his iconic sharpened teeth as snores broke through them. His usual gelled up hair was now ironed down to structure his face and practically conceal it with the amount there. It swept over one of his eyes - though didn't stop the scar on his right one peeking through. The rest of his hair was mushed up between his cheek and the pillow his head lay on.

You smiled at the sight, losing yourself in his handsomeness for a moment before leaning forwards to peck his forehead softly. You then pulled back the covers on your side, making an effort (reluctantly) to sit yourself up and swing your legs over the end of the bed. Just as you were about to find the means to stand, something tugged you back causing you to gasp. It was only when Eijirou's voice hit your ear that you processed what happened.

"Morning," The redhead let out, voice hoarse and deeper than usual to signal the classic case of morning croak, something you always loved to hear first thing. An arm snaked around your front to pull you back against Eijirou's abdomen. With a little smile, you turned your face to the love of your life, who was tiredly gazing at you.

"Good morning," You faintly sang. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mhhm," Eijirou replied, using his spare hand to reach up and rub his waking eyes at the same time as he released a mighty yawn. "You?"

"Like a baby," Was your answer as Eijirou allowed his hand to gently graze your forearm affectionately. You hummed softly, not wanting to move one bit from the comfort. If anything, you would have liked to have remained under his touch the entire day. Something about his subtle physical signs of adoration brought you head over heels for him, even more so than you already were. But you knew it couldn't last forever. So after a minute of sweet quiet, you proceeded to shift forwards to try and get up. Only to find the grip on you tighten and a disgruntled noise of protest to leave Eijirou's throat.

"Love, I gotta get up," You spoke and turned back to him with a sigh. "I've got that meeting at 10, remember?"

"No," Was the only thing you received back from your partner. Eijirou looked up gently into your E/C eyes. "Five more minutes?"

At first, you went to say a flat no, mainly because you'd expected him to act like this despite knowing full well you were going out. But you eventually concluded on a compromise to try and be smart about it. Fingers playing with the sheets of your bed, you spoke up once more.

"How about you let me go grab us a hot drink and then five more minutes?" It seemed to do the trick. Eijirou paused in thought before gently mumbling an 'okay', the grip on you loosening to give you the freedom to stand up. Once you stood upright you looked back to Eijirou, who was following your every move through tired red eyes.

"I'll come back in sec okay?"

"You better,"

This clingy side to Eijirou usually came out on the first day or two of him having time off work. Since he was a Pro-Hero he could sometimes be working days on end without a break, so moments like this the pair of you really treasured to maintain a healthy relationship. You smiled during your trip to the kitchen, his touch still on your mind as you started to prepare yourself a steaming F/H/D and a simple black coffee for Eijirou.

On your way back to the bedroom you made a pit stop to go to the toilet and somewhat freshen yourself up. All you did was brush your hair and wash your face (you planned to do make-up later) and then you were heading back to Eijirou. You opened the door with your foot since both hands were occupied by mugs.

"I told you I wasn't going to be long,"

"It was too long," His voice came from the bundle of covers, a head poking out from under as you saw a flash of a toothy grin. It was more tired than usual but still held the same passion nonetheless.

"Somebody's impatient,"

"Whatever. Now let me use you as a pillow," Eijirou uttered, waiting for you to put the drinks down and to get into bed. Pulling back the cream covers of your shared bed you were soon engulfed by arms as a head found refuge on your chest.

"Happy?" You said with a laugh. Eijirou nodded and let his eyes close, listening to the sound of your heartbeat against his cheek with a soft grin. He then felt himself get even more at home when your fingertips guided themselves to play with the ends of his hair.

"Yes,"

---

"Come on, Eijirou... I need to go get ready," You whined, rolling your eyes at the silence you received back. Only the soft and light pecks of kisses landing on your shoulder blade signalled Eijirou's distraction, almost pretending to be deaf for his own personal benefit. You rolled back in order to make him stop, looking up at Eijirou in protest. At first, he sent you a nearly offended gaze at daring to make such a movement, claiming he wasn't finished and had intentions of carrying on. Though slowly his jaw altered to a pout, reaching to tuck some hair behind your ear.

"Do you have to go?" Eijirou mumbled and leaned down to peck your lips.

"Yes, I do," You answered.

"Can't you just call in sick or something?"

"I already did that three weeks ago... so probably not,"

"Please?"

"I said I can't. Now get up, lazy bones,"

You went to get up once more, this time forcing yourself through the gripping fingers and hands of Eijirou to escape the bed. When you came out successful you released a small laugh of triumph much to Eijirou's dismay. It was there you walked to your closet and took the clothes hanging over the door on a clothing hanger, looking back at Eijirou whose face had now emerged further from under the covers to watch you.

"Is it even an important meeting, love?" Eijirou said, eyes following as you shuffled back to the bed and put the clothes at the bottom. You released a sigh as you turned to put the clothing hanger back in the closet, not aware of the cheap move Eijirou made when you weren't looking and instead answered his question.

"Not really? But because I missed the last one - no thanks to you, I think it'd be better I should get to this one," Wandering back to the bed, slipping off the shirt you'd stolen off Eijirou the night before as you did, Eijirou rolled his eyes and undermined your words.

"So... miss this one and go to the next,"

"As I recall you said that last time and promised you wouldn't say it when it occurred again... but here we are," There was a little smirk on your face when you caught him rolling his eyes, and in response, you playfully tossed the shirt you'd had on at the redhead. Eijirou snickered and managed to catch it before it hit his face, going to crumple it into a ball and place it next to him.

"You throw like a girl,"

"And you scream like one, doofus,"

"I'm not a doofus... doofus,"

Eijirou couldn't help but smirk in amusement at you, his face lighting up all the more into a bright beam when he heard a laugh release on your part. You were just finishing buttoning up your collar shirt as Eijirou watched, arms crossing over his chest. He cocked his head back against the headrest as well as to the side in thought.

"I ever tell you that you look good in shirts like that?" The redhead stated, receiving a glare that had formed on your face.

"Don't you get any ideas,"

"Wasn't suggesting any, just stating the obvious," He raised his arms in defence as you sat down on the bed by his legs, reaching for the blazer.

"That's also something you said last time and look what happened there - wait where's my...?" You were one sleeve through your blazer when you noticed that one of your pieces of clothing was missing. The navy blue pencil skirt that matched your top half to be more specific. You looked behind and around you, and also to the closet thinking you forgot to grab it with everything else, proceeding to frown in thought.

You swore you hung it up there and -

With a heavy exhale, you felt your body twist around and turn to a particularly quiet Eijirou sitting behind you.

His expression read it all like he was trying to be both obvious and mysterious all in one go in order to get you to question him. It most definitely worked, a hand meeting your hip as you stood upright and quirked a quizzical brow.

"Eiji?"

"Hm? What is it, dearest?"

"Can I have my skirt back please?"

"What do you mean? I don't have your skirt," His growing smirk and amusement in his eyes betrayed his words, refusing to make eye contact with you in a playful manner you'd seen countless times before.

"Okay, so where is it then?"

"I don't know," He innocently shrugged. "Maybe the skirt fairy came and took it,"

"The skirt fairy," You repeated, disbelief laced in your voice.

"Yep," He said through a laugh. "I don't know what to tell you, love. There can't be any other explanation,"

"Just give me back my skirt before I get behind on time,"

"I don't have it,"

"Yes, you do,"

"No, I don't,"

"Don't make me jump you, bitch,"

"I honestly wouldn't com- oof!"

Before Eijirou could finish his sentence, he only just managed to catch you when you pounced at him without remorse. Luckily he just managed to protect himself and readjusted your intended position, victoriously smirking up at you and pointing a finger.

"Hah! Not this time!"

"I hate you sometimes,"

"No, you don't. You love me,"

"I swear to god -," You let out, arms crossing over your chest. Eijirou had sat you on top of him, legs on either side of him as he remained under the covers. "Can I please just have my skirt back?"

"You mean the one that's under the sheets by my feet?" He blankly stated, letting his hands rest themselves on your hips quite comfortably. He couldn't help but laugh at your less than amused expression.

"Why can't you just let me get ready?"

"I'm not stopping you... I'm just making it more difficult,"

"Educate me on how?"

"Well the only way to get your skirt is to get back into bed... and if you get back into bed I'm not letting you get back out,"

"You're really being this persistent, hm?"

"Maybe a little more than intended,"

You hopelessly sighed, looking at the ceiling with a mental cry of both impatience and leisure. The inner want to go to your wardrobe and pull out a fresh skirt was the easy way out, yes, but the temptation of the game Eijirou intended to play was getting to you more than expected. That and you knew he wouldn't let you simply get off him, the grip on your waist not only implying endearing affection.

Eijirou raised his voice, reeling you back to his attention. Despite your annoyance, you did make an effort to admire his features. From his loose hair to his fixed jawline where the tint of a smirk riddled with confidence rested. The pretty glow in his carmine gaze drew you in each time without a fault. He was so undeniably attractive, no doubt about it.

"You know what sounds fun?"

"What?" Partly having a sense of what was to leave his lips.

"If you...," He paused as he subtly cocked his head at you. "Stayed in bed and cuddled with me all morning," Another pause. "Because I haven't seen you in four or five days and I miss you,"

"But we watched a movie and spent some time together last night knowing I was going out today,"

"Yeah but... you're cute on a morning,"

"Opposed to other times when I'm not?" It was Eijirou's turn to send you a little glare in protest before he returned to his pleading nature.

"You're cute all the time,"

Yet another few seconds of quiet.

"Just - stay with me today? And do your meeting-thingy tomorrow?"

"You, Eijirou Kirishima, are going to be the death of me," Leaning down to rest your forehead on Eijirou's shoulder whilst releasing a long groan from the back of your throat. Maybe not so great of an idea since that allowed him to wrap you right into his grasp, you held yourself there briefly as he allowed his fingertips to mess with your hair.

"Probably," Eijirou mumbled softly, tilting his head against yours as he once again let his touch wander. The unexpected cuddle definitely didn't go unnoticed as you pondered in your position, practically ready to fall asleep when Eijirou started to rub up and down your back. Like a moth to a flame, he had you wrapped around his finger, knowing that in the end, he was always going to get his own way. Of course, in other circumstances, he'd usually let you win. But not when it came to morning cuddles.

Definitely not when it came to morning cuddles.

As if waiting for you to talk, Eijirou stared into your strands of H/C hair whilst inhaling the scent of coconut from the shampoo you used the evening prior. He expectantly caressed your hip, his final attempt to win you over confidently coming to a climax at the word that exited your mouth.

"Fine,"

You could practically feel the smirk against the back of your head as Eijirou's touch became all the more prominent and rewarding. He let one of his arms extend out to grab your phone, handing it over to you as you hesitantly sat up with a hotness to your cheeks and found the contact of your workplace.

Eijirou simply watched you the whole time, taking you all in like he was casting gaze upon you for the first time. No matter how many times that happened, he still managed to find you all the more beautiful. He ran a hand through his flattened hair and exhaled merrily as he let your voice sink into his ears, watching the smile on your face grow as you caught him looking.

"Yeah - Again, I'm really sorry I can't make it, Eijirou caught something whilst working and he's bound to the bed cause' of it," You held up crossed fingers in hopes you wouldn't sound like you were lying, glancing at your boyfriend who appeared to chuckle.

And yet again your lie went unnoticed. The call was over in seconds, tossing your phone to the empty side of the bed.

"Why'd you say I was sick?"

"Because if I said it was me they'd probably ask about the last time you forced me to stay off, and how often I'm apparently unwell,"

"Right,"

"But, it looks like you got your way," You said, going to change out the white shirt to put your pyjama shirt back on, placing the work clothes to the bottom of the bed as Eijirou waited patiently.

"Come," Was all he said once you looked back at him, opening his arms for you to sink into. Which you did, reaching that comfortable position within his grasp as though you belonged there. Except this time, Eijirou directed your face towards his, pulling your lips to his in one smooth addicting manner that you felt butterflies in your stomach for.

In the meantime your drinks were disregarded as the clock ticked on, the pair of you forgetting their presence on the bedside table. The steam soon dissipated to nothing the cooler the fluids got.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you,"

He could sense the smile that formed on your lips.

"I love you too,"

[chixkencxrry]

tulips and victoria lilies

Darkish! Steve Rogers x Fem! Reader

Word count: I don’t know, man. Word counts stress me out.

Warnings: Smut, unedited, breeding kink, stalking, obsessive!Steve and slight dub-con. Also, unedited.

DO NOT TRANSLATE OR REPOST MY WORK!

::::::::: - means POV change.

You work at your aunt’s flower shop in the city. The moment you got off that plane, you asked her for a job. Fresh off your first degree from back home - you didn’t want to get too lazy while searching for a master’s program or a job in this terrifying new city. So you begged her and she put you to manage the shop books and arrange the flowers. Some days you even worked the register, it was a small shop so you easily multi-tasked.

Today, after you’d finished a few arrangements, you were working the register. Brooklyn was not as you’d imagined it, well, really you hadn’t known what you imagined it as. You’d only ever known if it from stories of your aunt and television. Hollywood was not known for its accuracies and neither was your aunt.

In the few weeks you’d been there, you’d had a favorite customer - a man famous and iconic not only to Americans but even to people like you who’d studied surface level American history. Captain America. That’s right, Captain-fucking-America.

Steve Rogers.

That tall ass, fantastic ass Avenger, was a regular at your aunt’s little flower shop. You wondered who he was buying them for. The tabloids linked him almost daily to a new woman, so they could be a pack of them tucked away. You liked a bit of the juicy gossip but for one irrational reason, you kind of wished it was you. But hey, he was an attractive man and a celebrity so you supposed it was only natural. You brushed it off and continued your day - it didn’t matter, and that was alright.

This morning was a particularly chill one, you found it confusing how they called it spring but it was still so chilly that even inside the shop you were gloves. Though you supposed everything may seem chilly by comparison to your Southern tropical heat.

You sipped on your big travel mug of boiling hot tulsi tea as you lazily looked out at the store. You hadn’t much crowd, besides the older lady that lived two buildings down that always bought pink roses. It was nearing the time Steve would be arriving.

Your eyes caught a reflection in the mirror, you smoothened your tightly done French braids, but your hair was stubborn coils. Sighing, you gave up - when you glanced up, there was Steve standing before the cashier.

You screeched at the surprise.

Steve smiled at your shock, his blue eyes held a dark type of humor as he looked over you. “Good morning, Y/N.” He greeted, raising the bouquet. It was one you’d taken a special care with, it held yellow Acacias as fillers with white lilacs and white gardenias, sprinkled with a handful of coral roses. You blushed, thinking how the woman who would receive it was lucky.

“G-Good morning, Steve,” you smiled back at him shyly. “Flowers for a lucky lady?” You teased, harmlessly.

:::::::::::

He bit his lower lip for a moment, the humor in his eyes dripping away into something much more insidious as he watched you head to toe - not that you could see anyway, too busy ringing up the order. The white Henley you wore was no where thick enough to hide the massive dark cups of your bra beneath, that navy sweater with your name tag was easy to see through, open and parted. He liked being able to see you like this, bathed in the early mornings. The first time he’d seen you was when he was jogging home. You were opening the store up and since then he jogged by every morning and came in the buy flowers he didn’t care for. Though he liked the way they made his brownstone smell heavenly, and like you. He’d close his eyes and imagine it being you when he brought home some random floozy, you smelt so like the flowers that he didn’t mind.

“Yes,” he answered your question. “She’s got a thing for flowers.”

Y/N smiled, teeth white and lips parted sweetly. Oh, how he’d like them spread on his cock in morning light. “Her and every other woman, huh?” Laughter spilled as you hands him his change and the flowers. Your eyes are expressive and lashes flutter at him. “Have a good day, Captain Rogers!”

God, if his pants aren’t quite tight enough as it is. There is nothing he wouldn’t do to have her scream his title like that - bent over and weeping for him. But he has a plan. And he did not become who he was by not following plans.

So instead of forcing you on your knees and stuffing you full of his cock, Steve smiled and waved you off. “You too, Y/N!”

He drops his flowers off at home, by then Bucky is awake and nursing a cup of coffee as he reads the newspapers. “Morning Buck,” Steve greets as he finds another vase to slip the flowers into. Except he doesn’t have anymore and just puts it into an empty jug inside before slipping it into the too-large fridge, it goes right beside the tulips he bought Tuesday.

“More flowers?” Bucky teases. “Maybe you should just ask the poor girl out on a date, punk.”

Steve scoffed, cheeks coloring with embarrassment. “Shut up, jerk. She’s way too shy for that.”

Bucky quirks a dark brow and takes a bit of his scrambled eggs. “Right,” the word is drawled and heavy. “Too shy for a coffee?”

He shrugs.

“Or are you too shy?” Bucky pressed, swallowing a mouthful of eggs. “Cause that’s what I think, Stevie. I think your too shy to make a move on this girl cause you might like her.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve marched in the direction of his room for a shower.

“I’m taking the silence as a yes!”

::::::::::::::

You’d teased your curls just right, till they smelt of honey and shea butter. Since five you’d been dealing with roses and the scent seemed to melt into your skin along with your own rosewater concoction. Y/E/C popped with the black liner your done and the hint of red eyeshadow, blended with a salmon color. You would deny that you were preening yourself for some man who probably wouldn’t even blink at you in a romantic way. But you couldn’t help it, he was a handsome - ridiculously sweet man. Who wouldn’t want that? Plus despite his kind disposition he felt so undeniably alpha. Like he could split you open and get you to call him Daddy. Cause maybe - though due to your lack of experience, it was dubious - maybe that was your thing.

It was Friday now, your last day of the week managing the shop when Steve came in. Glistening but not haggard from his workout. You were mid-conversation with the weekend staffer - Jocelyn, a fiery lithe woman. “Ohh is that Captain America?” She purred. “Does he come here often?”

You knit your brows - Steve has mentioned how he’d come her after a run. And even on your days off you could see him jogging from the loft upstairs. How did Jocelyn not know him?

Maybe he just came on weekdays, you reasoned quickly. “Yeah, he’s a regular.”

Jocelyn raised a brow. “Really? I used to work here everyday before your aunt gave you the job and I never saw him before.”

You shrug, so what if he only recently started buying flowers? It wasn’t your business, you thought as you wrapped the last bouquet of red roses and placed it into the fridge.

Steve was standing by some of the potted plants, a change from the usual. Maybe this time he wanted something with a bit more permanence than the usual. “Finish off here,” your wave your hand to the Valentines display. “I’ll head to the register.”

Jocelyn hummed. “Sure you will.”

::::::::::::::

Today you did something new with your hair, letting it down and making your face look even more alluring than usual. Steve has seen the way you’d curled and teased it in your room that morning from his usual perch. It suited you and he wondered who she’d done it like that for. From his intel it didn’t seem that she had anyone in her life. He’d also seen you hum into your reflection as you curled your lashes and spread red onto your lips. But seeing it up close felt different.

He plucked a bouquet of lilies and a potted tulip and made his way to the register. Steve smirked at the way you perked up, hand reaching for your hair just to fall.

Ah, so you had done yourself up for him. That was good. He was tired waiting. He’d take it as a sign.

Buck had had a point. He did like you, perhaps more than he’d admit. He wanted you - no, needed you. Everything about you drove him mad. Your shy nature. Your endless curves. The way you seemed to light up every time he came into the shop – you’d be such a good girl for him. But you never made a move, but Steve was a strategist and he knew when how to make you move.

“Good morning, Steve!” you greet, your eyelashes long and curled, brown eyes amber in the morning light. He could imagine you looking up at him like that with your ruby lips spread on his cock. “Tulips again today? I love them.”

I know, he thinks, remembering how he’d been in your loft last night as you closed up. Tulips covered your cracking wallpaper and in every vase of the open space.

“I’m a fan of them myself,” he adores the puffed cheeks of your face indicating a blush. “What are your plans for tonight?”

You stumble and almost drop his change, but he captures your hand. You’re as soft as he imagined, and his hand easily swallows your smaller one. He can’t help but think how easy it would be to pin you beneath him as he fucks you to euphoria.

Steve smiles at you charmingly watching as you stammer to reply. “I-I, not, I- haven’t got a-anything planned.”

“I’d like to take you out to dinner then. At eight?”

Like the good girl he knows you are, you nod rapidly - saying yes to him with an eagerness he hopes carries over to everything else. Will you be so eager to please him later tonight?

Does it matter?

:::::::::::::::::::

You can’t believe Steve asked you out! And to add, you said yes. What the absolute fuck were you thinking? There was no way in hell you were going.

Yet, this was Steve. Tall, GQ worthy Steve with all the soft sensibilities of your dream man. You’d be insane not to go.

That was what you told yourself anyway, after locking up and running inside to get ready. You’d put your thick curls into a bun and done your make-up classy with a new gloss. He hadn’t been specific about where you were going for dinner so you wore a pair of chunky heels with a spaghetti strap body-con, donning a denim jacket you figured it would be smart to have something to make it a bit casual just in case you read too much into it.

So, here you were five minutes before Steve had told you he’d be there to pick you up, dressed but so ready to flake out on him. This was your dream man - you’d have to be a complete imbecile to stay home.

“What does he even see in me?” You moaned. Shouldn’t somebody like him be dating a model? Or some fancy career woman? You arranged flowers for a living and had a bachelors in Education – he was a god damn Avenger.

Too lost in your whining, you’d hadn’t heard your doorbell ringing. Instead it was the pounding of your door that jolted you. Letting out a mouthful of nervous air, you picked up your purse and opened your door.

It was, as you suspected, Steve. And damn did he look good. Dark blond hair combed back, and dressed in a pair of navy blue slacks with a charcoal shirt – he looked every bit of deliciousness and you wanted to eat him up. “You look gorgeous,” he said, blue eyes dark in the light. “I almost don’t wanna leave.” He joked, at least you thought it was.

Smiling, you glanced at the origami flowers in his hand and gasped. You’d been so busy ogling him you hand noticed them. “Are those for me?”

He handed them to you, hands brushing, you felt goosebumps coat your arms. “Figured I had to get something special for you. They’re supposed to be –“

“Victoria Lilies,” you finished, amazed at the beauty. They were your favorite flower from back home. Just seeing it brough tears to your eyes – they were so beautiful. He couldn’t possibly have know how much it would mean to you. But that didn’t stop you from wanting to jump into his arms right then and there. “This is so sweet - I, oh god I don’t wanna cry.” You muttered as you sat in the two-seater by the door, everyday you missed home more.

Panic flashed on his face as he tried to soothe you. “Hey, hey, It’s okay,”

You thanked God that your make-up was set and wouldn’t ruin his lovely shirt. You didn’t cry but simply inhaled him until you were calm. Steve smelt like spice and sandalwood.

You couldn’t but laugh, leaning away from him despite his rigid hold. “Well, this is a heck of a first date!”

Steve’s expression was unreadable but his eyes were darkened.

Licking your lips, you tasted the strawberry gloss before continuing. There was something about his eyes that you didn’t trust. “I-I think we should go, don’t wanna miss your reservations.” You tried to stand but Steve didn’t let you, instead a slow, easy smile crept to his handsome face, creating a twisted, dark look that unnnerved you. Suddenly he wasn’t Captain America.

He was someone else.

“Steve?”

Licking his lips, he ran his hands over your exposed arms - the jacket you planned to wear was thrown over your couch. “Steve?” You echoed again. “Aren’t we going out?”

“We were,” he admitted, finger thumbing the strap of your dress, tracing the bodice line of your dress. Your nipples hardened at his touch - light and feathery on the exposed swell of your breasts. “But I don’t think so, not anymore. I can’t wait any longer.”

Before you could speak, he’d ripped down the front of your dress, causing your breasts to spill out with a bounce. “What the fuck –“

He forced your mouth shut with a kiss, bringing you to his lap. In your shock, he was able to slip his tongue into your mouth. Steve was a damn good kisser - not like you had plenty experience, but he kissed you so good that your head spun and your pussy grow damp. His large hands gripped your waist, giving it a squeezing before going to your ass. Palming each globe, he gripped before standing up. Your wrapped your legs around his waist so you wouldn’t fall - he felt hot and hard against the crouch of your panty.

Your back hit the cushion of your couch, and suddenly your breasts were being fondled. In his hand they were massaged and manipulated, Steve’s lips left your, trailing to your neck where he sucked a hickey to life before popping a nipple into his mouth. His other hand abandoned your sensitive breast, slipping to your throat where he gave a squeeze. Steve removed what was left of your dress, easily pushing aside your lacy thong to get to your drenched pussy. His finger slid in, curled as they attacked your g-spot, his thumb flicking your clit.

Letting go of your nipple with a plop, he bit into the flesh before kissing it. “I knew you wanted me, baby. God, you’re gonna be so good to me won’t you? I can feel your pussy on my fingers.” He groaned before kissing your lips.

Steve stroked you to an orgasm embarrassingly quick, causing a string of curses to slip from your mouth. How had only his fingers reduced you to that? God, this man was dangerous.

“Steve, Steve,” you moaned, feeling hot all over. You wanted this, you wanted more.

“I know, baby,” he whispered against your skin before rising between your legs. Steve looked straight in your eyes and sucked his fingers dry - and there was something about that, that sent you wild. You squirted on his pants - eyes wide you cursed covering your face in embarrassment. You heard him chuckle and the sound of his pants unzipping followed after. “Let me see your eyes, doll. C’mon, I’ve got a treat for that sweet mouth of yours.”

You didn’t listen and he sighed, prying your hands off. He stared at you with mischief and sternness. “Get in your knees, baby. We’re way pass being shy.”

Licking your lips, you got on your knees - looking up at him through your lashes. Steve took his thick, cock out and tapped it on your lips. “Say ah,” you opened your mouth and swallowed the bulbous head. Sucking on it, you liked the way it felt in your mouth; heavy and warm. Steve’s hands found their way to your hair, threading into the massive curls for grip.

“God, you feel so good. You’re such a good little girl.” He groaned as you bobbed your head at a steady pace, taking him as deep as you could before pulling back. He fucked your face for a bit before pausing, cock stuffing your mouth and throat as you gagged. His balls smoshed against your chin. “But I’m not here to have just your throat, doll.”

He pulled away, but not before rubbing the head over your lips. “We can do that later. But for not, I want you on your back.”

You still felt so hot - but what were you doing? Since when were you the kind of girl to have sex on the first date? “Steve, I–”

He kissed you again, silencing your feeble protest. “I said on your back, baby.”

Okay, so you were that kind of girl for Steve fucking Rogers. You laid back, watching as Steve discarded his clothes before kneeling between your legs – behind him you could see your front door still wide open. Anyone could see the two of you. “The door –“

“Doesn’t matter,” he growled, hovering over you before entering with a snap of his hips - eliciting a scream from the depth of your belly. “I don’t care who sees me fucking my girl. Let them know who you belong to.” The curse word rolled off his lips with such filth that it was enough to make your pussy flutter around his cock. Steve stayed perfectly still for a moment, one hand on your throat; simply resting.

You grinder your hips but he pinned you so close to the ground that you could move. You need friction! You needed movement! “Please Steve,” you begged.

“Please Steve?” He teased, rolling his hips. “Say the words.”

It took a lot from you to say the words out loud, you felt dirty as they passed your lips. “Please fuck me, Daddy!”

The air got still and Steve looked at you appraisingly. “Daddy, huh?” He asked, before he began to properly rail you. “I like that, baby.”

“Daddy, Daddy,” you sang as his hold on your throat tightened.

He fucked into you so hard, almost as if he were simply using your hole. His body was pressed into you like he wanted to sear every part of him to your flesh.

“Gonna fuck a baby into you.” He promised, thick cock dragging along your walls, heavy balls clapping against your soaked center. He kissed you quick and sloppy. “Gonna have your tits filled with milk. You’d look so pretty with my baby, baby.”

You were not so far gone into the lust of the moment. Your eyes widened. “Fuck no! Pull the fuck out, Steve!”

His gripped on your throat tightened, your moans become soft whimpers. “I didn’t say you had a choice, doll.” He snapped his hips harder. “And that’s not my name.”

Against your anger, your orgasm came. “Daddy! Fuck yes, Daddy - Daddy –“

A peak that had your eyes in your head and toes curled into your carpet. Steve pounded through the world bending orgasm. “That’s right baby come on my cock, cause I’m gonna fill you with my cum. I’m gonna pump you full of my fucking sperm.”

You scratched at his hand as he kept his rhythm, hips jerking as his jizz filled you. He didn’t leave you, slowly filling you up with his juices as he came down his high. Even when he finished coming, he didn’t stop, grinding into you so that his juices wouldn’t seep out.

Steve relinquished hold on your throat finally pulling out of you. You felt a lump of his cum fall out, setting into your carpet.

Watery eyes stared up at him, Steve was still hard. “How are you still hard?”

He grinned at you before shrugging – looking boyish and nothing of the alpha male that had just fucked liters of cum into you.

Your night had just started.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

When Steve woke up the next morning, you were still asleep, drool at the corner of your mouth. The white sheet covered your lower half but your delicious breasts were exposed. Your hair was a mass against the white of the sheet. He’d worn you out. This hadn’t been his intention – really, it wasn’t. He planned to take you dinner, bond over things he knew you liked and pretend he knew about your favorite books; not the ones on your bookshelf but what he’d found on your kindle. Or the movies you spoke to your friend from home about.

That was why he brought those paper flowers, modeled them after the flowers that grew from your garden at home – at least as your social media said. He hand expected you to be so taken back. The way you let him hold you to comfort you, after feeling your body like that; how could he not fuck you? How could he not claim you? Just looking at you now he wanted to slip his cock between your opened lips and fill your stomach with his natural protein.

In fact he might just –

RING

Steve sighed as he heard his phone ring. Getting up, he was went to retrieve it before you woke up. The phone was left in his pants, which were thrown on the couch.

“Rogers.” He answered, more than a bit irritated. Now that he had a taste of you he wanted to consume you whole.

“Did it work?” Natasha or Jocelyn as you knew her asked.

Steve smiled. “Yeah, it definitely did.”

“You’re lucky I felt sorry for you, Rogers.” She pressed. It was she who had told him about you anyway, informed him about your existence. Then gave him the watered down pollen that he’d applied to his lips before coming. Not strong enough to send you to madness but strong enough to give you a nudge. That was all he needed.

“I am. I owe you one, Nat.”

“Trust me, I know.”

“Steve?” Your voice called from the bedroom. Steve perked up, ending the call after telling Nat good-bye.

Now all he had to do was to get you to meet Bucky.

part two

Masterlist