#wild im still kicking too

[apthotiosis]

keeping the post-show drawing-on-the-train-home tradition alive . twenty one pilots melb was nuts , we had such a good energy crowd holy shit

fave moment (silly) had to be everyone rapping verse two of ride while tyler went for a walk (we did so good?!) and then he went 'nice try :3' and did it himself

fave moment (srs) - too many but up there was josh singing bandito over paladin strait (and shh tyler's mic totally worked the whole song shhhh nothing happened in the first chorus it was fine shhhhhh)

[phagodyke]

was gonna say smth else but this turned into a vent sorry everyone just ignore. typical weekend post on this blog u know how it is here we go👍

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[todayisafridaynight]

NO WAY YOU'RE A GAIA USER TOO I was so obsessed 😭😭😭

HELP NO YEAH I AM LERKJGA it keeps calling me back....... i think im over it but still.....

[mintyvoid]

with the resurgence i also rewatched gravity falls, first time since it originally aired.

god it was so good, and still is good.

and now im back in the mourning stage of a show ending :(

[kajibunny]

before moving in with them vs. after moving in with them

|| When you move in together. || Wind Breaker ||

sooo uh funny story I actually posted this but it kinda disappeared i really tried finding it so i decided to post it again lol @kajibunny this is for you my love!! you’re the absolute sweetest <333

: Sakura Haruka. Suo Hayato. Kaji Ren. Umemiya Hajime.

❥ Sakura teared up when you asked him if he wanted to move in together. For the first time in his lonely life he will get to share a home with someone and that someone is none other than his most precious person in the entire world, you. Days leading up to the move, he had certain doubts plaguing his mind that maybe you'd come to regret this decision but you quickly eased his worries with your soothing words and gentle touch. Sakura doesn’t own a lot of belongings himself but the things he treasures are the things given to him by you. So, there wasn’t much to pack for him so instead he spent his time helping you pack your belongings. Stars literally shone in his eyes when he entered his new home, you giggled seeing him run around, inspecting every corner - like a child seeing his first snow. He was excited to unpack everything, asking you where things should go. When you called him out on his enthusiasm, he flushed red, stammering as he tried to deny. You don’t have to do any of the heavy lifting because Sakura insists on doing them all. Once you both settle in, in a rare moment he boldly pulls you into a tight embrace - his eyes glowing with warmth. “Thank you for giving me a place to call home...”

“Look! It’s our very own kitchen! Woah, this bathtub is huge! Is it really okay to call this mine…?”

❥ Suo did not express his happiness by jumping around or shouting at the top of his lungs. However, if he were to describe his reaction to your acceptance, that is what he felt inside when you agreed to move in with him. He'd nod along smiling as you rant on about the many things you'd like to do in the new house. A thought did cross his mind into hiring movers to do all the work (he’s a rich boy), but he figured it would be more personal and meaningful if you both did it. Suo has everything packed neatly and labeled, so you’d both have an easier time settling in. He’d always ask you if this is where you’d like this thing to be put here or not, valuing your opinion above his own. Suo does not mind if the curtains are of a certain color or if a certain furniture has a high price range. He’ll happily provide you with a card to spend to your heart’s delight. He’s just content to see a smile on your beautiful face. It really did not take long for you both to settle in, with strength remaining. Suo had everything planned out from the very beginning after all. Afterwards, Suo hugs you from behind as you both silently bask in the atmosphere of your new home.

“The sofa looks wonderful, my love. Though it would look better with you laying on it.”

❥ Kaji cracked his lollipop in one bite alone, when you asked him if he wanted to move in with you. It took him a moment to cool down his red face and racing mind, to properly give you an answer. When he said yes, you jumped onto him in excitement causing him to hurriedly catch you in his arms with a surprised yell. He wouldn’t voice it aloud but he was just as excited as you are. As he was packing each of his belongings into a box, his mind couldn’t help daydream of the life you’d share together. To wake up every morning to your beautiful face when the sun rises and to kiss you goodnight every night when the stars glimmer. You would no longer have to be separated from one another. He only snapped out of his daydream when the sound of a shutter came from your phone.

“You look adorable smiling to yourself. What were you thinking about?”

“Huh?! I wasn’t s-smiling! Delete that!!”

Instead of his usual headphones, Kaji opted to play music on a speaker, both his and your favorite songs while you both unpacked. You giddy moving around your new home, moving along to the music. Once your favorite song came on you couldn’t help but pull a reluctant Kaji along to dance. After a long day of unpacking, you both lay tired in the middle of your living room side by side - his hand tightly holding yours.

“Where do you want this to go? H-Hey, are you listening to me..?!”

❥ Umemiya is a picture of a man who received the greatest news of his life when you accepted his offer to move in. You had to keep him from bouncing off the walls with his enthusiasm. Not before him pulling you into the tightest hug, real happiness gleaming in his eyes. Umemiya being excited was an understatement, everyday leading up to the big move he would excitedly gush to you of all the new things he would like to do together with you. All the vegetables and fruits he would like to grow in his new garden and maybe even get a pet together. His excitement radiating off of him like the bright sun. You'd have to monitor the packing process because Umemiya would like to stuff everything into one box or misplace a few things. However, when it comes time to move your stuff in he'll quickly usher you to sit down while he brings every box in, despite your protests. He'd even take his shirt off when it gets hot. Even when Umemiya is in the other room, you could hear his animated talking - bringing a smile to your face with how adorable he is. He did not show a moment of tiredness throughout the whole move but once you're both in bed together he pulls you in close with a smile on his face, - drifting asleep.

"Imagine how many get togethers we can have! A barbeque in the summer and a hot pot party in the winter...!"

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Wearing Their Clothes

Requested: i followed you for succession and currently im the boys brainrotted so you wouldnt believe my excitement when i realised you wrote for the boys too!!!!! i want to request maybe hc on how the boys would react to reader wearing their sweater/tshirts - anon

A/N: My love, the brain rot is so real!!! When I tell you I have an entire folder of The Boys edits, I mean I am kicking my feet and giggling at these people covered in blood lol. Thank you for requesting! Please feel free to again, I absolutely love writing preferences! I hope you like it!!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜

Butcher absolutely adores you wearing his coat. It drives him wild. It started one night where you two were alone, the group split up. While everyone else had their own jobs, you and Butcher were on surveillance. It was freezing out. He noticed the goosebumps on your arms. You swore you were fine, but he could tell you were putting up a front. Oi, just take it. Not wanting to blow your cover and fight, you put his coat around your shoulders, thanking him. It's a long night and you take shifts. When he catches you curled in a ball, his coat wrapped around you, it tugs at his heartstrings. Something about this image of you just makes him melt. After that, he's eager to see it again. Realizing this, you never turn down his offer. Now you basically have 50/50 custody. You like it. It's warm and worn, but it also smells like him and, when you're apart, remains a reminder that he's always looking out for you. Both M.M. and Frenchie are full of jokes when they catch you wearing it, but Annie and Hughie find it endearing.

Hughie loves that you wear his t-shirts and hates it. Not only do you look better in them than him, which is annoying enough, and now everyone finds them funny now that you're wearing them, but now he can never find the one shirt he wants to wear. It's either on your body or in your closet. Of course he would never stop you, he doesn't want you to stop, but he does wish there was a little bit more of a compromise. You wore it the first time you slept over. Your shirt had been discarded somewhere you couldn't find, but Hughie's was right there. He tried not to show it, he tried not to get caught smiling, but he was way too obvious. Something about seeing you in his shirt made his day, his life. It never gets old. When it's laundry day, most of your clothes end up being his. Now he has double the laundry. Still, it's worth it. His clothes always come back smelling like you. When they get ripped or torn from fights you apologize profusely, but he's just glad you're okay. Who cares about a stupid shirt?

Annie has always loved you in her clothes. When you moved in together, your clothes just sort of became jumbled. Neither of you felt the need to separate them, so you really can't tell if the sweater you're wearing is hers of yours. When she buys clothes she always makes sure you like what she's picking out so that you both can wear it. No one even noticed what you two were doing, that one day you'd be wearing a shirt and a few days later it would be her turn, it's just sort of become a thing. When something gets ripped or torn or covered in blood, you're the first to make jokes. I loved that sweater, you say, though Annie knows what you really mean is it's a stupid piece of clothing, you're just glad she's okay, that's all that matters. Your favorite thing is to look at pictures where, in one, you're wearing this sweater and, in the next, she is. Something about that puts a smile on your face.

M.M. feels a little insecure. You used to love wearing his shirts. Truthfully, no one can tell what's his and what's yours, your and his clothes are so blended. Since becoming in charge of The Boys, as close to a leader as possible, he's lost a lot of weight. Grown smaller, and his clothes no longer fit you. You of course still have his old shirts, but his new wardrobe just doesn't fit. You assure him it's just temporary. The anxiety, the OCD, it really hurts his appetite. He can't even think about food anymore. Still, realizing that you can no longer share, it makes him self-conscious. Something about you wearing his clothes made him think that he was there with you always, that this was a way to protect you, as silly as it might sound. Now that you wear your clothes more, he isn't there to save you. It just adds to his many worries. You assure him you'll be safe, you'll always come back to him, but he just can't help it. You make a point to wear his older shirts as much as possible, not wanting him to worry more than he does.

Frenchie literally can't tell when you're wearing his clothes vs. your own. His style is pretty eclectic. His pants alone are bright and patterned and, to his friends, a fashion offense. His clothes are rarely organized, so you end up picking through piles to find something specific. Most of the time you have to point out when you've got one of his jackets or shirts on. He of course thinks you look better in them than him and he makes it known. Your friends make fun of you and him for some of the outrageous outfits you put together. Everything is worn in and soft and smells like him, a mix of cologne and fabric softener and smoke. Not realizing, Frenchie wears your clothes, too. Only when you ask for a shirt back or where it is does he realize oh! so this belongs to you. Neither of you mind. It makes you happy seeing him wear your clothes. He definitely styles is better than you.

Kimiko's entire closet is all black. Not only is it easy to blend in with the crowd, and it all matches, but it can also hide the sight of blood. Neither of you can really tell whose shirt or pants or jacket belongs to who, considering most of your clothes are pretty identical. Still, she'll poke fun at you every so often when she realizes you've got on one of her shirts. Is that mine? She smiles. Is it? You didn't even realize. You always ask her if she wants it back, if she wants you to change, but she shakes her head. She tells you look good in it, badass even, and you shrug it off, though it means a lot. You and Kimiko both are still figuring out how relationships work. It takes a lot of trust, something neither of you were very well versed in. Sharing clothes is just another way you two show that you're a partnership. No one else can tell, but you can. That kind of attention would normally make alarm bells go off in your head, but you know Kimiko, you know she does it out of affection and not something more sinister.

Bonus! Homelander rarely, if ever, wears civilian clothes. If he's not in his suit, he's probably naked. You've never seen him in anything else. The only time he's done it was to see Sage and that was in secret. Still, you find a way to share by wearing his cape. Typically wrapped around you after you slip from the bed, in search of your own clothes, half-naked and embarrassed. He assured you you have never looked better. Homelander likes power. He likes when people listen to him, respect him, and show him their loyalty. You wearing his cape shows him all of that and more. He never thought he'd like you in his clothes, it's just another thing he's territorial about, but he's pleasantly surprised. Now he expects it. If you forget or just don't wear it, his ego is pretty wounded. You assure him it's nothing against him. Now you go out of your way to do so, knowing it makes him so happy.

Bonus! Soldier Boy feels such an attraction to you when you wear his clothes. He doesn't really wear anything but his suit, so one day you jokingly put it on. You filled it out differently than he did, but it didn't look horrible. When he saw you, he was all smiles. The first thing that comes to mind is wanting to take it off you *wink wink*. What was a joke is now something you do on special occasions, putting it on and parading around in it. The things he says are awfully dirty and make you laugh every time. You never thought something as silly and simple as putting on his suit would end up driving him this wild. You should have known, it makes perfect sense, but you just never realized. When he does, on rare occasions, wear regular clothes, he's the first to suggest that you share. It isn't as enticing as wearing his suit, but the attraction is still there. It makes him feel like you belong to him, that you want to show that off. Nothing matters more to him than that. Nothing makes him feel more seen.

[eloquentlytired]

18+ mdni

— his problem

pairing: old!logan howlett x fem short!reader tags: public sex — rough sex — unresolved feelings — tension — slight angst — old man logan doesn't run away upon hearing the words I love you ( shook! ) — he just needs a little therapy — he also likes calling you princess! — soft ending summary: you run away after you deem yourself a problem to logan, charles and caliban. of course a man like logan doesn't let that slide and you're to realize why once he finds you. author's note: i wrote this faster than a uni assignment so if u spot any mistakes i apologize im kneeling on the ground and pleading 4 forgiveness ( not really ). ENJOYYYY and as always reblogs & likes & conversations are sooo welcome ^_^

ৎৎৎ

the rain is rough and heavy on your skin but it doesn't stop you from running away. you were a burden to them — to logan, caliban and charles. they already had so many problems and you were just an addition to that list.

charles wouldn't agree. logan simply wouldn't show it. and well... caliban was caliban. he was just being realistic sometimes with his words but it wasn't his purpose to hurt you.

you heard yelling from a distance — it was like angry roaring. logan.

you tried to speed up the pace and run faster, your sundress clinging on you like second skin. you were soaked to the bone and your vision was getting hectic because of the many droplets staining your eyelashes.

one more blink and logan was suddenly running behind you — despite how old he'd become, despite his body literally suffering from the inside he had still come out to get you. it was the first time he did and not caliban or even charles.

“stop!” logan yelled at you, struggling to catch up but only a little. you were no mutant or nearly athletic; and you'd been running until now without stopping under the cold rain. your body was silently suffering.

a rough body pushed you on the nearest tree, your chin and your knees scraping against the wet trunk.

logan stood behind you taller and bigger as you struggled to remove yourself from his grip. one of his hands slid to your nape and he held it firmly, shoving your face against the tree. you winced. he growled. “what the hell were you thinking? running away after that everything we've done for you.”

tears prickled at your eyes and you swallowed so they wouldn't fall. not like he'd care. “I— I just wanted to get rid of one of your problems!” you yelled over the rain and logan pressed his mouth on your ear, his knees brushing against the back of yours. “the fuck did you say?” logan asked. or rather growled again.

“i’m a problem; charles loves me but caliban tolerates me and you—” you paused trying to push down another sob. “you despise me, I can sense it. just let me go!”

the grip he had on your nape, that strong veiny arm, was enough to overpower you. even when you thrashed around maniacally and tried to use your limbs to kick back, logan didn't seem the least affected. wild eyes took in the sight of you— your wet clinging sundress, the white panties peaking beneath it and your bare feet. logan was certain you'd have some new wounds there from all that barefoot running. you gasped as his unoccupied hand moved to pull down your panties, letting them pool around your ankles without care.

“logan, what are you—”

“enough. I have let you off the hook too many times. when you talk back, when you don't follow simple orders. when you do that shit at night.” logan was certainly referring to the times you two would argue and then he'd tell you to fuck right off in your room. you'd listen to that order but not without laying in your bed and touching yourself, coming with his name on your lips.

he heard. you knew. logan knew that you knew. and at that very moment, his entire patience for you broke down.

“logan!” one of his arms had put your head in a tight lock, your chin firmly nestled at the inside of his elbow.

he grunted as he fucked you from behind, his cock slipping in and out of your pussy in fast and deep thrusts.

your ass collided against his hips with every thrust and your helpless hands simply held onto the arm that had forced you into this headlock.

“I fucking saved you. I picked you up from the street,I took care of you—” logan grunted as his other hand played with your breasts, teasing a hard bud between experienced fingers. it'd been a while for the both of you but logan definitely knew more than you did.

a certain circular roll of his hips had you wailing and moaning loudly.

“— I fucking did everything so that you survive. and you're trying to leave me?” he couldn't help but feel that ache in his chest, one he hadn't felt in a long time. your body shook with each thrust directed at your weeping core, logan’s tip nudging that sensitive bulge of nerves while stretching you out with hidden intent.

“i'm sorry! I’m so sorry!” you sobbed and logan squeezed your breast painfully hard until you were looking at him with those eyes — hot tears running down your face. the rain kept going. and so did logan with fucking you under it.

your soaked sundress was a mere dirty fabric around your ankles alongside your underwear. logan drove his hips into yours, hissing everytime your pussy would tighten its grip around his cock, just like a damn vine. his white shirt clung onto his body wetly and his trousers were accompanying yours on the ground — around his own ankles.

“you’d really leave? you wouldn't come back?” he grunted in your ear and tightened his hold around your fragile head. every part of you was in fact fragile.

your hands shakily scratched against his arm and your eyes rolled back when some of your oxygen was stolen from you; logan was squeezing around your throat so tight while slamming into your pussy, raw and deep. it was impossible not to slur your words when he fucked you like this. and you enjoyed every moment. “wanted to— help. I wanted to make things easier—" but your words reached no one.

there was something about logan fucking you in the rain in the middle of the forest. you felt the attraction to this and so did he. he liked the way your nails clawed at his arm helplessly and how your asscheeks bounced against his hips. “logan—" you choked on your scream as his pace turned lethal, his cock drilling your insides without mercy. you could feel the slap of his heavy balls against your clit and everything burned. “do I have to be the bad guy? just because I want all of us safe? because I want you to be safe?” his words conveyed his feelings clearly and it was evident that you'd hurt him with your decision.

your head fell helplessly back on his shoulder and you twisted it around enough to look at him. logan followed your gaze and when your eyes met, you kissed. his lips melted against yours as his hand slapped your breasts, making your pussy clench again.

“keep your eyes on me, princess.” he muttered between hot kisses and you obeyed. it was a different experience to have logan like this, messy beard rubbing against your face while those tired eyes gazed into yours as he filled you up.

“i love you.” you mumbled against his lips and logan slipped his cock out just to force it back inside, your gummy walls spasming around his thickness. you expected him to get mad but logan simply kissed you again while wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you like that as he plunged his cock inside your wetness.

a few thrusts later you were coming around his girth, squeezing him so tight and the situation was just too dangerous for him to continue. “gotta pull out, princess.” he rasped but you squeezed around him in response while pushing your hips back, your intentions very clear.

those eyes looked up at him and fuck he really was a weak man. the weakest if you will.

logan came inside you with a shudder, stumbling forward until your body was squished between the tree trunk and his chest. “princess.” he grunted again and his hips melted into yours. no inch separated your connected bodies as he filled your pussy to the brim.

you had told him no but logan insisted to carry you back home, holding your bare body against his merely clothed one. at least he had his trousers on while you had nothing. “about the I love you part—” you were overthinking it and logan had noticed. he silenced you with a kiss; a kiss which he placed on your forehead. “when I woke up today and saw the house empty, your room empty... and when charles told me you wouldn't be returning—” there was so much emotion in his eyes that you couldn't keep your hands to yourself.

you reached out and caressed logan’s cheek, as well as the wrinkles by his eye. how much you loved those. “I want you to stay. I love you.” his genuine words and gaze made you melt and you found yourself leaning against him, resting your head atop his chest.

you were his problem now. it'd be alright.

[pparadiselost]

could you write sae x reader x shidou? if not, then shidou x reader would be fine

and im absolutely inlove with dacryphilia.. so if you could include that too thanks ^^

deux et trois.

shidou ryusei x fem reader x itoshi sae your wild boyfriend has always been a handful, but him tagteaming you with a rather trusted teammate might be more than you can chew. warning(s): nsfw, dacryphilia, dubcon, exhibitionism, cucking, degradation (from sae) minors do not interact.

dating someone like shidou ryusei feels a lot like a dream come true in the conceptual sense. you could easily imagine a whole plethora of young women who would give up everything they ever knew to date a handsome, successful soccer player like him and to essentially live a guaranteed life of glamor and luxury. and this much was your reality, and it was a fact that you accepted with as much humility and gratitude you could. 

you were never someone who enjoyed letting such superficial things get to your head and pump your ego up; you falling in love with him and him falling in love with you was nothing more than chance, and nothing on the objective level separated you from any other girl in the world. 

and shidou treats you sweetly, a surprising contrast to his maniacal behavior on the playing field. he’s still energetic and gets a kick out of teasing you playfully whenever he gets the chance to, but everything he does shows that he cares for you. perhaps in that way you two are really meant for each other; he would never purposefully do anything to upset you, and everything he involved you with was because he genuinely thought it would be good for you.

his coworkers, be they opponents or teammates, also all treated you with a degree of respect. they were intimidating and constantly raring to go, as if each of them were starved beasts, but they knew that you were simply shidou’s lover but not him himself. you grew accustomed with some of them. isagi sometimes gave you a shy smile and a greeting, igaguri would beg you to tone down your boyfriend to no success, and even the icy rin would peer at you with his cold teal eyes and nod curtly in your direction.

but exceptions were always to be expected.

“hm…,” a callous voice hums to no one in particular from above you. “...i can’t say i knew what to expect from you, but this certainly wasn’t it, little demon. well, i suppose that is my fault for letting you have too much free rein.”

your core burns, and every part of your bare body prickles with heat and shame. you don’t know how this happened or what pieces fell into place to bring you here, but you were here nonetheless. shidou’s dick is stuffed into you, your boyfriend bucking his hips wildly into you while you’re perched helplessly on his lap, and your thighs are spread apart nice and wide to give the other man in the room a perfect view to how shidou’s cock stretches your pussy apart.

you recognize him vaguely. unlike shidou, this man’s face is unreadable and frosty. his jaw is set as if it were carved out of stone, beautiful but unapproachable, and long under eyelashes escort you mockingly upwards to his unimpressed eyes. his irises are the same shade of breathtaking teal that are rin’s, and your stomach flips.

“whaaaaaat, i thought i’d offer you the best!” shidou sings from behind you. you whimper as he leans forward, trapping you in between his arms and his toned chest. “c’mon, why are you acting so shy all of the sudden, sae-chan? if i brought you anything less than acceptable to your impossible standards, you’d call me all sorts of ugly names and kick me out!”

this whole thing is embarrassing. you’re already so shy about having sex with your boyfriend, let alone have sex with him while someone that might as well be a total stranger watch you bouncing on top of shidou’s dick like tomorrow doesn't exist. and you weren’t given much space to hide any of it either. the very instant you’d make an attempt to even close your legs, shidou would be spreading them right apart and bullying his throbbing length into you even deeper, as if to offer your stuffed cunt up to itoshi sae and brag about it to him.

sae frowns, and his pretty lips twist into something that almost looks like a scowl. the temperature in the room feels as if it’s mounting into a dizzying heat but also plunging into an arctic chill between the two men. “but to think you’d bring me your girlfriend… i’d be impressed, if it weren’t for the fact that you brought me such a perverted girl.”

your breath hitches in the back of your throat when he points an insult at you. you’d believe that sae hated you with an unspoken passion if it weren’t for the fact that he was also naked and you could see how his cock was hardening, his dick twitching slightly whenever you glance towards the midfielder with watering eyes and short-lived gasps escaping your mouth. still, his words hurt, and you can feel tears invade the corner of your eyes. you rapidly try to blink them away; you’re already ashamed of the fact that he’s watching you getting railed by shidou, let alone cry like a baby in front of him. 

“‘m not- ‘m not a pervert-,” you somehow manage to choke out, and your chest immediately tightens. you sound more like an out-of-breath porn star than you do the normally sweet and assertive girl that you are, and your gut spasms with shame. fuck, fuck, fuck! this shouldn’t feel good, you really shouldn’t be getting off to something as wicked and shameful as this. but the throbbing in your core tells you otherwise; you’re enjoying being watched as shidou dicks you down mercilessly.

as if on cue, shidou laughs heartily. you grip at his arm when he snakes a hand down to pinch at your clit. heat jolts straight up your pussy, and you let out a strangled cry.

“but isn’t she beautiful, sae-chan? looks like you hit a nerve with what you said to her. she looooooves to act all shy and cute, but i’ll have you know that she’s really fun to play with.” he fucks his cock up harshly into you as if he’s making a point, and you’re practically drooling from the way he forces you to take it, your pliant walls molding to the rough lovemaking he’s showing you, all of the pleasure making you feel lightheaded.

you’re not sure what to do. you feel so good, you love having shidou’s cock inside of you. and the new angle of having him fucking upwards into you makes your pussy drool with anticipating, desperate to cum. you want him all over you: touching your bouncing tits, torturing your clit, making sure your pussy only feels good from having his length inside of you. but as much as you want to lose yourself to this world-shattering pleasure, you can’t really succumb to it because of how hyperaware you are of the little voyeur in front of you. 

sae makes it clear that he’s observing every detail. his eyes glaze all over the curves of your body, and you shudder when he stares right in between your legs, where shidou’s fucking into you. it feels like he’s judging you, like he’s telling you that he clearly has the upper hand in the situation, and that you having sex with your boyfriend only exists for his amusement.

you try your hardest to bite back how much your eyes are watering. but everything feels too good, and you’re quickly crumbling in shidou’s arms. shidou’s doing his best to get you to cum. his mouth sucks all over your neck and leaves open-mouthed kisses on your skin, and you whimper loudly when he bites and sucks on your earlobe.

“n-not there…! please- ryu, i can’t take it! be nice to me… no- gonna cum-,” you moan out. you’re shaking your hips lewdly, and your inner thighs burn. but fuck, you’d be damned if you said shidou wasn’t making you feel good. like the dedicated boyfriend he was, he knew exactly what he needed to do to get you to fall apart. you’re crying out, and there’s a ring of frothy white forming at the base of his cock. his balls twitch under you, and your pussy clenches and tightens up ruthlessly around his girth when you start thinking about having him creampie you.

“gonna cum already? we just got started though! i promised sae-chan such a good show too…” shidou makes an exaggerated kissing noise, and one of his big hands squeezes encouragingly at your hips. sae lets out a quiet huff as if in disagreement, but there’s a few drops of prominent pre-cum that bead at his tip. you’re not sure if sae is a masochist or just downright prideful. probably both, but despite how red and angry his cock looks, he refuses to touch himself to the sight of you.

your vision is hazing over with tears. you really don’t want to cry, don't want to look weak in front of a stranger, don’t want to look like you’re falling apart this quickly. but trying to regain control of your body when so much is happening to you feels impossible, and everything is going to your head. your core is tightening up dangerously, and the pleasure is overwhelming every part of your mind. you whine and whimper, mewling like a wounded animal, and a few scalding hot tears slip past your lashline.

it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“are you… crying?” sae spits out the words as if they’re toxic and bitter in his mouth. you shake your head feebly and try to turn your face away from the redhead, but your body seems to answer instead of your mouth. your pussy clamps down on shidou with renewed vigor, and the boy lets out a gruff “fuck!” through his gritted teeth before laughing loudly and speeding his pace up. 

you hiccup. “no- ‘m not crying- not so fast, ryu, please…! you’ll mess me up, you’ll mess up my pussy if you fuck me like that-!! ah- feels so good- you’ll kill me- i’ll die from having sex with you!”

more tears are streaming down your cheeks, leaving hot trails as they fall. sae’s eyes are blown open wide, and something akin to fear settles deep in your body when you notice how entranced he looks. it’s like he wants to gobble you whole, like a man possessed by something unholy, and you cower against shidou’s chest as if he’s able to provide any protection.

shidou giggles delightedly against your ears. “you’re saying such lewd things… you’re making me really happy, did you know that? yeah? is your boyfriend’s cock making you feel that good? gosh, you’re so naughty… i didn’t know you liked my dick that much.”

you sniffle, suddenly feeling as if all the strength was being sapped from your body. you can barely see as the tears fall freely from your eyes, staining your face. you’re aware of how awful you must look, turning into goo in shidou’s arms as every part of your body shakes. it’s horrible and vulnerable, but at the same time, it turns you on so badly with a high so unexpected that you’re scared you’ll get hooked on it. it’s the kind of pleasure that runs so deep, you know it’s going to ruin you the moment you let it fully take root inside of you.

“gonna cum- please- please, slow down- not so deep, ryu, not so deep! i can’t take it-,” you squeak out. your head lolls back weakly against shidou’s shoulders, and you moan when shidou captures your mouth into a deep kiss. his tongue swirls all around your defenseless mouth, and you sob and cry all throughout the kiss. your pussy won’t quit squeezing and hugging his cock, and being kissed through it only makes you tighten up that much more. 

the friction is just so, so addictive. you want more. you need more. you don’t want anyone else to see you falling apart in such an unglamorous way, fucked dumb and reduced to tears over a man’s dick, but your boyfriend is determined to show you off to his friend and to rip an orgasm out of you one way or the other. 

a strand of saliva clings to shidou’s mouth when he pries his lips off of you, and he glances over at sae with a smug grin. “uh-uh, none of that, babe. i know you can take it, know you can handle my cock. look at you! you’re doing so good… it’s like your pussy wants my cock more than you say you do- don’t lie to me. bet you want me to cum inside you too, fill that pretty hole of yours up with aaaaaaaaaaall of my semen. what do you think, sae-chan?”

“do you think a girl like that deserves it? look at her, crying over something as trivial as this. does the thought of being watched make you want to cry?” sae’s voice is as sharp and cold as ever, and the edge to his words make you sniffle. “what a dirty girl… it makes me almost pity her. almost.”

shidou pretends to pout, and he sticks his tongue out. you moan, your cheeks feeling sticky and hot from all of the dried tears smoothing over your skin. everything feels heavy and good, your pussy being pounded into a senseless mess from how rigorously shidou’s fucking his cock into you. it’s like he’s trying to force more and more of his cock up into your tight hole, attempting to spear himself all the way in until your hips hit the base of his cock, like he wants his tip to pry open your womb and flood you with all of his cum.

“i don’t know what else i expected out of the big meanie sae-chan… well, too bad that i’m the one that’s actually fucking her. you can be mean and awful all you want, but i think i want to cum inside of my girlfriend.” shidou laughs against the shell of your ear. a cold shudder runs down your spine when he nips at your skin again, your neck and face vulnerable to his teeth. “ooh, you’re tightening up against me again…! fuck- so fucking tight- so eager for cock, huh? yeah, i like this side of you sooooo much… you’re just sooooo cute when you can’t resist me!”

you sob openly, not sure who to turn to for help. sae won’t lift a finger, not when his tip is leaking angry pearly white beads of pre-cum and not when he’s more fixated on the fat tears welling at your eyes than anything else. you’re no better than a prey animal when shidou’s like this, determined to creampie you and imprint himself even further onto your pussy. no matter how much you writhe and try to catch a moment to breathe, he pulls you down even further on his cock and sends a jerk of hot pleasure straight up your crotch.

“cumming-,” you choke out, your words slurred out. if you were any more coherent, you’d be embarrassed with yourself for letting another man watch you orgasm this shamelessly on shidou’s cock, thighs pried and held open so that sae doesn’t miss a single detail of your pussy being spread apart and stretched out mercilessly on your boyfriend’s length. “ah- ryu- i can’t hold it in any more… your cock feels- feels too good…! ‘m cumming- ‘m cumming, i’m cumming- fuck- oh- ‘m gonna cum- gonna cum- gonna cum so- sooooo fucking hard…!”

your pussy clamps down like there’s no tomorrow around shidou’s dick when he angles his hips just right and yanks you down as far as he can down onto his lap. you let out a loud cry as heat rips through your body as if you’re made out of nothing. your brain is thrown into overdrive, your nerves and synapses working overtime to flood every inch of your body with pleasure and heat, your stomach furling in on itself almost painfully, pussy gushing lewdly as your juices soak shidou’s cock and your hole spurts and drools out your orgasm.

it’s like something inside of you breaks. sex with shidou always felt good, but something about this felt as if you had crossed a point of no return. you shudder and shake, reeling in the newfound pleasure. it’s like the pulsing nestled deep in your stomach pushes and pulls, like a second heartbeat tugging you downwards. it feels good, it feels so good, and you feel like a broken shell of something that was before, unable to push past the fog in your brain or the haziness in your eyes. 

you can vaguely make out the sound of shidou’s adoring laugh, and you cry out once more when he grinds up against you, rocking his hips into your ass and keeping you stuck down and trapped on his entire length. you’re squeezing him so nicely, your pretty pussy all fluttering and desperate around him, clenching him and milking him despite how shy and insistent you are that you’re above all of this. but you aren’t, and everything in this room knows that.

“hah- ahhh, you’re gonna take it all, aren’t you?” shidou breathes, his voice suddenly high-pitched and tinged with a crazed lust he reserves solely for you. your breath hitches in your throat when he leans towards your face and buries his head into the crook of your neck, and he inhales deep, greedy breaths of your scent. his cock is about to burst, all swollen and thick and wanting nothing more than to stuff every inch of your cunt with his semen. “that’s my girl… take it all! it isn’t meant for anyone else!”

you nearly go limp in his arms when his cum gushes into you. you can feel it shoot straight into your stomach, quite literally flooding what feels like every part of your insides. it’s hot, and it burns. and yet some part of you inwardly croons at how good it feels, like your pussy was made to catch all of shidou’s cum and to store it deep inside, to feel it swirl around you and leak out of your pulsing entrance, dripping down shidou’s engorged length and joining with the rest of the ivory ring built up at the base of his cock from all of your lovejuices mixing with his as he fucked you like an animal gone wild. 

shidou smiles to himself as he lets you sit there, with no choice but to be impaled on his dick, and he makes sure most of his cum is safely lodged deep into your insides before he maneuvers you expertly off of his length. 

you feel weak, and your limbs dangle limply as you slump over onto the mattress. shidou presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head and wipes at your eyelids carefully, and you bite back a shudder when you see him lick your salty tears from his thumb. he looks down at you with a look laced with both love and desire, and you’re brought back to reality.

“i think i’ve given you a good show, sae-chan,” he coos, glancing towards the stoic redhead. “she’s all yours now! don’t have too much fun though, you hear? even though i like you quite a bit, it’ll make me sad to see my girl feeling too good from another guy’s cock.”

“your mind knows no limits,” sae breathes as if he’s annoyed with shidou, but he still steps towards you without any hesitation. you choke back a teary-eyed hiccup as he looms over you, and you let him grab onto your thighs and spread your legs apart. your cunt still feels spent and sticky, and globs of shidou’s pearly white cum drips from your fluttering hole. 

sae’s adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly. you can’t tell if he likes the sight or not. he slots himself in between your spread legs, and he watches you with his pointed eyes. silently, carefully, like a snake laying in wait in the tall grass waiting for the moment you come down back fully to earth and understand the gravity of the situation you’re in.

your belly coils with the familiar thrums of arousal when his tip prods at your swollen clit. you let out a small gasp as sparks climb up your insides, settling somewhere deep in your stomach. you just had your brains fucked out by your boyfriend, your cunt spread apart by his thick cock, but you want dick inside of you again.

you wiggle your hips, and you think you see the edges of sae’s mouth twitch. he stares at you and the way shidou’s cum leaks out from your pussy and onto the tip of his cock.

“do you want it?” he asks plainly. you nod, knowing he’s going to be mean to you. he seems to get off on it, hurling insults at you and seeing your face stricken with tears. he seems like he’s just about to sneer at you, like he’s disgusted at the fact that he’s even in the same room as you, despite the fact that he’s literally grinding his slick cock against your sensitive folds.

“how awful. begging for another man’s cock right after having sex with your boyfriend… is this a part of some weird perverted fantasy you have? you two are perfect for each other, did you know that?” he clicks his tongue. you shudder uncontrollably. the edge to his words are sharp, and despite bracing yourself for it, you can feel hot tears kissing the corners of your eyes again. it hurts, it laces against your heart, but fuck, you’d be damned if you said it didn’t turn you on a bit.

your tears hang heavy off of your lashes, threatening to drip over your waterline, and for the first time since you’ve bared yourself to the two men, sae’s expression actually softens. you sniff pathetically, unable to form proper words, but he grabs at your hips. he leans in, and you stiffen, unsure whether to avoid him or to let him continue to come closer. you’re mesmerized by how unrealistically beautiful the redhead is: the fiery red strands of his hair are nothing like the icy turquoise of his eyes, and if you weren’t already so overwhelmed with the sensation of having an orgasm ripped from you and another man on top of you, you might have been starstruck truly.

his lips part slightly, and his tongue sneaks out from between. you clench your eyes shut, and something warm laps at your eyes, stealing your tears from your face. 

pressure taps at your cunt, and you let your head go limp as the stretch of penetration slowly grips you all over. you should be tired, should be worn out, but as the dull pleasure flickers inside you again, you find a moan bubbling up in the back of your throat. god, taking dick feels too good for you to ever not want it this badly. whereas shidou is always quick and skilled at drawing out an orgasm from you in record speeds, sae takes his time in penetrating you. it’s like he wants you to feel the stretch, wants you to feel the presence of his cock as he slides himself into you, and while your walls envelop his girth fully, he laps greedily at your heady tears.

“ah- sae…! ah- please- fuck me…,” you choke out. he bottoms out inside of you, and you can feel his balls pressed up against your hole. one hand reaches down, and you clench up around him when two fingers start to slowly rub circles into your puffy clit. it’s simultaneously too much and not enough at once, feeling him play with your clit while not moving his cock. the tender wetness of his tongue gliding over your face makes your head spin, and your pussy won’t stop gripping onto his length.

he breathes over your cheeks, the hot breath leaving you shivering. “dirty girl… who said you can demand things from me like that? shidou might let you get away with things like that because he likes it, but i’m not an easy man like that.”

“please-,” your voice sounds strained and needy, unlike your normally sweet but still firm cadence. “having your cock inside of me feels good- wanna feel more of you, please… please fuck me! i wanna feel you thrusting into me- wanna feel it, wanna have more of your cock inside- please, sae, please…”

“you don’t get to tell me how to move,” he hisses. he throbs and twitches inside you, and you can feel his balls tense up against your ass. but he draws his hips back slowly, giving one slow stroke, and that’s almost enough to make you fall apart. you throw your head back and let out a drawn out whine, your cunt fluttering violently against his swollen cock. he’s being mean to you, he’s being so, so mean to you, but your pussy feels full and good when his dick’s kissing your deepest parts.

if shidou had been pounding into you, sae keeps you begging for more. he treats his dick as if it’s something for you to earn, despite how he grinds upwards into you, the leaking head of his cock pressing straight into what feels like the entrance of your cervix. he keeps degrading you, muttering words that swim straight through your ears, and you keep crying those beautiful pearly tears that mar your vision and stain your cheeks. it drives him crazy, to break down such an innocent, beautiful girl into the worst, senseless version of herself, and he makes sure you know it, feel every second of it.

his pace is a bit faster now, but far from the animalistic sex you need to feed this uncontrollable side of yourself. the sound of your bodies connecting is nothing short of obscene, and sae drinks it all up as if you’ve mixed it personally just for him. you might as well have; you were meant to be offered up to him like some kind of sacrifice on a silver platter from the start, before you were even aware of the predicament you would be in.

“harder- harder- want more- please, fuck me harder…!” you sob pathetically. it’s humiliating, having to beg for a man’s cock in such a demeaning manner. you know words alone can’t convince sae, so you press your aching thighs apart further, using your hands to press them closer to your chest. the change in your position has his cock hitting deeper and more roughly into you, and your moans go from desperate cries to throaty chokes. you feel like you’re suffocating over your own breath, but the way you buck your hips against sae’s proves that there are far more pressing things in your mind than self-preservation. 

sae grits his teeth, and he slams his hips into you. his cock pumps in and out of your greedy hole, and your cunt grips onto him like it doesn’t want to let go. fuck—it almost makes sae mad over how good your body feels, especially after getting what feels like shidou’s sloppy seconds. his abs tense up as he sucks in a deep breath, the focus in his teal eyes starting to shake around the edges.

“thank you- thank you, thank you, thank you-,” you pant out helplessly when the full strokes are finally, finally where you wanted them to be at the start. you shake your head back and forth, entire body trembling and overwhelmed by the pleasure that consumes you. “feels so good- cock feels so good inside of me, sae- want to cum on it… want your cock to make me cum- make me pussy cum…!”

“you really are the worst,” sae laughs. his hair is sticking to his forehead, and despite how awful he is to you, he looks beautiful. “begging for another man’s cock in front of your boyfriend? don’t you have any sense of shame?”

“feels good-,” you weakly choke out, as if that was an excuse. you know shidou doesn’t mind. he was the one to drag you into this mess in the first place. sae really enjoys this farce, this holier-than-thou act, when everyone in the room knows that he’s just as twisted and depraved as you are. it takes two to have sex like this, and you sure as hell aren’t alone. “make me cum- please, i wanna cum…! i’ve been so good for you.”

sae hums to himself. his cock pulses inside of you. your pussy’s just as shameless as your mouth is, milking him every second he stays buried into your hole, and it feels like your inner walls are begging him for his cum too. you must really like being treated like this, your pussy filled up over and over again with cum, not caring if it was your boyfriend or a man that your boyfriend happened to feel comfortable handing you over to. what a greedy girl you were.

“you wanna cum?” he sneers. “do you think you deserve it? all you’ve done is lay there and cry and take my dick. so demanding…”

you shudder, seeing stars. you can feel your orgasm building up and laying in wait deep in your belly, just begging for a few more harsh thrusts to topple you over the edge. shidou had fucked you out so good before, and you needed a taste of that pleasure again. you already felt so good stretched out and humiliated like this on sae’s cock that you could only imagine how much better finally getting your release would feel.

“you’re so mean to me… just wanna cum-,” you sniffle out. your voice wobbles, and sae grunts when a fresh wave of tears threaten to overtake you. it’s embarrassing how a crying girl might be the thing that gets him to snap, so he grits his teeth and bucks his hips harshly into you. 

it’s your fault. all of this is your fault. he can’t admit to himself that this turns him on, that seeing you sob and wail and writhe has him wanting to blow his fat load inside of you. that would be too much for him, to cum inside of you and then have you cry just from the sheer pleasure of it. to take dick so good that it makes you fall apart and bawl senselessly as if you’re his girl, not shidou’s.

“yeah, that’s right-,” he grunts under his breath. “go ahead and cum then. if you really want to end up as a mess on my cock, then i’m not stopping you. make a show for your boyfriend then, huh? let him see you crying and screaming from how good you feel on my dick. you have him to thank for landing you in this position to begin with.”

you swallow back a shaky inhale. your vision had been blurred over a long time ago, but right now, with your entire body weighed down with nonstop arousal, you feel like you’re seeing stars. it feels so good and it hurts, but it hurts in a way that has you moving your hips lewdly and wanting him to stuff your already cumdrenched pussy with his load. 

he thrusts sharply in you. again and again and again, until his entire length is stretching you and bullying your cunt open, his cockhead slamming into your g-spot over and over until the pangs inside of your pussy start pounding against the inside of your skull. your moans are melting away into incoherent slurred noises, barely gasping out his name.

“sae- sae…! ohhhhh, fuck- fuck, so deep- so hard…” your body shakes, and your voice sounds unrecognizable. sae likes this too much, likes seeing how broken you are because of his own machinations. he grits his teeth, the bed shaking and his pace nearly falling apart, his thrusts messy and awful and everything you need.

you cum with a silent cry. your back arches, and your hands scramble to try to grip onto anything to steady yourself. your fingernails dig into your own flesh, your thighs aching and screaming in pain despite the numbing pleasure that crashes entirely over you. fuck, everything feels so fucking good, and your brain feels like it’s melting out of your ears as your orgasm grips every one of your synapses. tears glide down your face without any restraint, and your sobs echo throughout your ears as you turn into a truly fucked out mess.

sae grunts, his own voice low and muffled, when he feels your cunt clamping down on him and a sudden warmth engulfing his whole cock. his self control wavers when he feels you creaming around him, your pussy milking his cock. it’s like your walls are clinging to every inch, every ridge of his length and refusing to let go, pulsing all around him like you want him to unload inside of you and paint your insides completely white again. of course you do, you’ve been begging for it this entire time. being creampied once by your boyfriend isn’t simply enough for you anymore, sae knows, you need him to do it again and to overwhelm you with his twisted desire.

you gasp when he fucks you roughly through your orgasm. it’s almost too much, your stunned cunt keening with overstimulation when the faint sparks start flying again. sae mutters something you can’t quite pick up, and he slams into you hard, enough to have you recoiling backwards.

his cum explodes inside of you as he hangs his head, his breathing unsteady as he stays buried deep inside of you. it’s as if he wants to drown out shidou’s cum with his own, scalding lines of white cum. it’s blasphemous, how good it feels, and if sae wasn’t feeling so out of body right now, he would be mad at the fact that a mere girl—shidou’s girlfriend, no less—could knock him off of his high throne like this.

you don’t get any reprieve from the whole thing. sae yanks himself out of you the moment his grounded rationale seeps back into his brain, and you whimper in protest. your spent hole feels so empty without a cock to stretch you out, but you feel dazed and heavy and warm. their cum mixing together fills you up, and some of it leaks out of you in a lewd rivulet, dripping in such a tantalizing manner down the flesh of your ass.

sae leans over to grip your face harshly, tilting your face so that you meet his eyes. his hold on you tightens to an almost painful extent when he sees the final remnants of your tears swimming in a clear layer over your puffy eyes, the evaporated marks on your damp cheeks, your lashes wet from everything that you had faced. 

you’re pretty, pretty when you’re stained with cum and tears and all of the filth that sae’s dumped onto you.

shidou slinks up behind him with his usual strange smile, and he snakes his arms over sae’s neck from behind. “what a good show, sae-chan! my girl’s amazing, isn’t she? look at her now… ooh, it makes me want to fuck her all over again.”

sae sucks in a deep breath as he watches shidou prance over to you to press a sickly kiss to your forehead, and his adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. shidou peers up at sae as if to mock him when he kisses your eyes, the taste of your salty tears spreading across the inside of his mouth.

it’s irritating. it’s annoying. his cock stirs again, and his lower stomach flares with warmth again.

was this the game shidou had planned from the start? sae didn’t care; the result wouldn’t have changed. the only certain thing now is the way these two men circle you like a pair of vultures descending upon their next meal, the hunger in their eyes primal and filled with an unspoken anticipation. you should be cowering away from the intensity, but you’re right there with them.

shidou giggles as a large hand caresses your bare knee. “that’s a good girl… now that you’ve taken each of us individually and sae-chan’s gotten all nice and warmed up, it’s time to get to the main event, don’t you think?”

“...the way you talk about it like it’s some game makes my skin crawl,” sae’s cold voice sighs. something sticky and hard brushes against your calves when two hands coax your legs open again, and your cunt clenches weakly with arousal, heat licking around your insides shakily. your cunt, still leaking with cum, is bared fully for the two men to enjoy in their own respective ways.

you close your eyes momentarily, your tear-filled vision finally turning to black. 

“ready to take both of us at once?”

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[revasserium]

hiii i'm a new follower and i love your writing so much

ik u said no requests in ur bio but i just finished reading ur sanji fic.. so even if ur still not taking requests i'd just like to throw in an idea that u may or may not feel like using in the future, up to you (i'm requesting this with opla sanji in mind but if u wanna use it for zoro that's cool too)

k so imagine reader being invited to a friend's wedding, & being excited to go until they find out their ex is coming too (with their partner of some amt of yrs). so now reader is pressured to bring someone w/ them & ends up asking their best friend sanji bc they don't want others thinking they're still hung up on the past.

wedding dress

opla!sanji; 6,544 words, pining with a happy ending, fluff and a tad of angst, flirting, lovesick!sanji, whipped!!!!sanji, no "y/n", zeff is a whole mood, confessions, sanji-appropriate nickname usage, modern!au?

summary: you invite sanji to be your plus 1 at a wedding

a/n: im so sorry this took so long. but. better late than? never? also, there is a tiny bit of rehashing for ep 6 of the live action for sanji and zeff's relationship so... spoilers?

It’s a chilly, overcast kind of day when the call comes in. And in retrospect, Sanji thinks he should’ve known better when he’d seen your name on the caller ID. He’d hesitated, because by god if it wasn’t his New Year's Resolution to get the hell over you this year, but it’s almost December again and he still can’t help the way his heart races at the sound of your voice.

“Hey sweetheart — long time no talk!” he answers after a brief moment of contemplating his entire life, dusting his flour-covered hands on his apron.

“Hey! Sorry for calling so… out of the blue…” your voice is still as sweet as ever, and the way his stomach twists at the tinkle of your nervous laughter makes him want to kick himself. Still, he forces himself to stay calm, clearing his throat as he checks the oven — it’s almost done pre-heating.

“Now you know what I said about actin’ a stranger — just because you moved halfway across the entire world doesn’t mean we ain’t best friends anymore, right?”

It’s what you’d said when he’d been standing at the airport, three seconds from dropping to his knees and begging you not to go. But he hadn’t, because he knew how hard you’d worked for this — for this opportunity abroad, to study art in the birthplace of the Renaissance itself, in the heart of Italy.

“And… you might be able to come visit me, right?” you’d said, rocking on the balls of your feet, your eyes full of what Sanji could only call false hope — which is always, always the worst and most painful kind.

Sanji had swallowed and nodded and said something or other about Europe and fine dining, but there’s a terrible, prickling heat eating up the back of his neck and a voice that’s screaming at him to pull you to him and kiss you. He doesn’t. And he regrets it to this day.

“Ah — right… I’m actually calling because… I’ll be in the area in about a week and…”

Your voice pulls him out of his reverie and he clears his throat, hitches a smile to his face that he knows you can’t see but he’s sure you can hear.

“Oh! That’s great, darling! You’ve gotta come for a drink, I’ll whip up all your favorites — we can make a night —”

“It’s actually for a wedding.”

There are a few moments in everyone’s lives when they learn the true meaning of a thing for the very first time — elation, pride, stomach-twisting guilt, and… fear. True fear, the kind of fear that shakes the muscle from your bones and sends them tingling, threatens to overwhelm you with numbness. Fear, that pushes adrenaline through you like a drug, forces the world into a terrifying, all-consuming focus.

Sanji feels the fear coursing through him, wild and contentious at your words.

A wedding.

Your wedding? Perhaps?

He can’t bear to think of it; he’s so terrified he can barely breathe.

Then comes the moment after, the wave of everything else that the fear had washed away — confusion, anger, guilt (always guilt, for some reason), because isn’t he supposed to be happy for you? For you, the person he loves most in this entire world, to find love, to know happiness. He should. He should.

“Oh.”

Sanji sags back against the hard, metal counter. Almost mindlessly, he reaches into his pockets with shaking hands, digging around for a smoke.

Your breath is soft in his ear, too far across the phone line and a thousand miles of ocean.

“I originally wasn’t even planning on going — she’s not a very close friend — we had like one class together but —”

And within the span of a minute, Sanji also learns relief. The kind that melts the world around you into sizzling butter and champagne bubbles. The kind that makes you want to lie down on the ground and scream.

“— it was so close to your restaurant so I said yes but I didn’t know he was gonna be there and —”

You’re still talking, rambling like you do. And it takes nearly everything inside Sanji to pull himself back to the conversation.

“Sorry, love, who did you say was gonna be there?”

“My ex — you know the one —”

Sanji grimaces, flicking on his lighter with still-shaking fingers.

“Mm, yeah I do. The tall, dark-haired bastard who —”

“Yeah well — he’s gonna be there too and I just —” he hears you swallow hard and take a long, steadying breath. An unnameable something is calcifying in the depths of his stomach as he waits for you to collect yourself.

Curiosity? Why had you called like this, so suddenly, about a wedding where your ex was going to be? Concern? Were you thinking of going back to him?

But slowly, as you stutter through your next few words, the unnameable thing obtains a name — dread.

“— I just don’t think I could do it myself, y’know? And — and you were the one who got me out of it wh-when I decided to break it off with him so…”

Sanji takes a long drag of his cigarette and casts his eyes up at the high, white-slabbed ceiling of the kitchen, scored with long strips of bright, fluorescent lighting that floods the entire room in a direct, unforgiving glow.

He closes his eyes and counts to three.

“Course I’ll come with you, darlin’. It —” he wets his lips, taps off a bit of ash from his cigarette, and sucks in through his nose, clearing his throat of the words still lodged there, “— it’d be my honor.”

Relief — he hears it in your voice, and by gods he can almost see it — the way your whole face would light up, washed as if by the setting sun, your eyes wide and dark, your cheeks flushing his favorite fucking shade of pink and —

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I really owe you for this one —”

Sanji makes a valiant effort at a nonchalant chuckle; it comes out sounding like a dog with a bit of bone stuck in its throat instead.

“Nonsense — what are best friends for, anyway?”

There’s a tiny pause where Sanji can feel the words best friend scraping along the insides of his mouth, barbed and harsh, leaving his tongue feeling raw and metallic.

“You really are the best friend anyone could ask for,” your voice is soft and honest and Sanji wants nothing more than to chuck his phone into the industrial blender.

You tell him that you’ll send him the details, that you can’t wait to see him soon, that you’ve got a world and a half of catching up to do, that you’ll buy him so, so many drinks, and that you’ll come bearing presents. He laughs at the right times, makes soft noises of consent and agreement, and when finally, finally you tell him goodbye, he clicks off the phone and takes another long drag of his smoke.

And then, he whips his hand back and throws the cigarette butt into the large sink, where it tinks against the metal and sizzles sadly in the murky dishwater.

“Real sucker for punishment, aren’tcha, lil’ eggplant?”

Sanji groans, turning around to find Zeff with his arms folded, the hip to his bad leg propped against a counter.

“Will you fuck kindly off — can’t you see I’m going through a thing here?”

Zeff snorts, clunking unevenly towards him.

“You been going through that thing for the last year and a half since you chickened outta askin’ her to stay so —”

“I didn’t chicken out — I — it was her dream to go to Florence and study —”

“And what was your dream then, ey?”

Sanji bangs his palm against the counter and sighs, “It’s not like I could leave you here with —”

“With what? A thriving restaurant business that I started? A guest list out the door and round the corner —”

“I — I helped!”

Zeff rolls his eyes, “Ah sure ya did, but I never asked you to, did I?”

Sanji huffs, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth to stop the torrent of horrible, sad, acrid things he could say and could never mean, so he swallows them back down. When he looks up next, Zeff is still standing there, but there’s a softness around his eyes.

He opens his mouth a few times, but eventually, all he says is, “The oven’s over heatin’.”

Sanji swears and jumps up to tug open the oven door. A wave of hot air whooshes out and nearly catches him in the face. Behind him, he can hear Zeff’s dark, gravelly chuckle, and the dull clunk of his wooden leg.

“You burn the kitchen down, you pay for it.”

And then he’s gone again, leaving the door swinging behind him, and Sanji very much alone with the too-hot oven and a counter full of things he can’t really remember the recipes for anymore.

Nearly a week later, Sanji finds himself standing at the airport, rocking on the balls of his feet, nearly in the exact same place as he’d been a year and a half prior. Except this time, you’re not walking away from him. You’re walking back towards him. He wonders if there’s a name for deja-vu in reverse and comes to the realization that that’s just called… a memory.

And memory seems to work in strange ways now, images superimposing themselves on top of one another — the flicker of a film lens, the bat of an eyelash, the shadow of a smile crimping the corner of your lips. All of this, he sees in the here and now, but he sees it in the air around you too, shimmering and mirage-like — all his memories and dreams of you layered over the shape of you. Your memory like a ghost of itself, trailing behind you as you walk towards him, a shy smile on your face, your cheeks flushed from travel and the cold and —

He doesn’t let himself hope. Not this time.

“Hey!” your voice is just as bell-like as he remembers it, pitched a little higher than it usually is, probably out of nervousness. But it still feels like a kick to the guts. Sanji forces himself to smile.

“Hi, love,” he says, leaning down as you reach him, but the motion aborts halfway because — is it still appropriate to hug you like he’d always done? To press his lips to your cheek or your hairline and revel in the bright citrus of your shampoo, to soak in the butter and cream of your skin like he used to?

There’s an awkward half-second pause before you’re standing up on tip-toe and Sanji’s heart nearly drops out of his ass as you lean in. But then — your lips skim by his cheek and your arms are around him, and stupid, stupid, stupid heart — thundering in his chest like horses or hooves or fists or thumping rabbit’s feet — leaping into his throat and pattering against the base of his tongue as he wraps his arms around you and holds you close. But it’s not close enough. It’s never close enough.

He breathes and distantly, a part of him notes that you still use the same shampoo.

“Hi…” your voice is warm by his ear, a bit muffled, but he can’t help the way it makes him shiver, “It’s… so good to see you.”

He nods, not trusting his own voice to do the normal thing and, oh, you know — work.

“I’ve — I’ve missed you.”

He makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and a cough as he nods again. He feels your arms slackening around him and a fierce, terrifying thing is flapping its wings in his stomach, screeching at him not to let you go. But he does — like he did before.

“I — I missed you too,” he says, though his voice sounds flat and scratchy and he clears his throat again.

A dozen different expressions flicker across the lovely planes of your face and finally, it settles on endeared exasperation.

“Please don’t tell me you still work through like three packs of smokes a day.”

Sanji laughs then, shaking his head as he reaches over for your luggage, “Nah — well, maybe not three but —”

You whack him softly on the arm.

“I actually tried to quit right after you left.”

“You did?”

Sanji shrugs as the pair of you start to make for the exit. He feels your gaze go slanted and shrewd.

“How long’d that last?”

He smirks, “Few hours.”

You whack him again and this time, he dodges out of the way just to bask in the bright spark of your laughter as you chase after him.

“Seriously though, you know how terrible they are for you!”

“Sure do,” he says, tugging one out of his pocket as soon as he clears the airport doors, pivoting left towards the parking garage. You have to jog to keep up with his longer strides, your breaths misting the air between you in silvery puffs.

He makes no move to light it as he helps toss your luggage into the trunk of his car, sliding into the driver’s seat. You huff as you wiggle into the passenger’s side.

“Then why —”

Sanji waits patiently for you to buckle your seatbelt before pulling out of the parking space, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting soft against the middle console. He slates you a glance.

“Cause,” he says, fixing his eyes back on the road, an easy smirk twisting his lips, “it’s a metaphor.”

You groan, sinking into the seat, “Just because you read John Green one time —”

“Oi, I’ll have you know I read his entire bibliography after you showed him to me.”

“Ugh, whatever you manic-pixie-dreamgirl-loving ass.”

“Yeah, whatever — you actual manic pixie dreamgirl.”

You smile and Sanji allows himself the brief and aching delusion that the past year and a half didn’t happen, that you never left, and that you’d never leave. That you’d always be here, warm and laughing and just within reach.

The rest of the car ride is spent in mundane conversation, in how was your flight and tell me about Florence and how’s Zeff doing these days and I wanna know about your latest dish. It’s light and easy, and Sanji lets it warm the air around him. By the time he pulls into the front of your hotel, all the unsaid words from the past year and a half have soaked through his socks and into his shoes. It sloshes out onto the pale pavement as he opens the car door.

He helps you roll your luggage up into the lobby and tells you he’ll be here at 3PM to pick you up tomorrow. The venue’s just three blocks away.

“Yeah, I’ll see you then,” you say, pursing your lips, waving as he backpedals towards the automatic doors.

“You’ve still gotta send me pictures of the dress you’re wearing — I gotta find a matching tie.”

You laugh, a bit embarrassed, “Right — and here I thought I might surprise you.”

Sanji freezes, eyes wide.

“O-oh! Er — well, you can just — just tell me what color or —” he waves vaguely, “send a picture of a corner of the dress — just so I have something to color match against —”

You nod, eyes glittering, eager once more, “Oh! That’s a good idea — I’ll do that.”

“Great,” Sanji says.

“Great!” you echo, perhaps a bit too chipper.

He gives you one last smile before turning and striding from the hotel, firing up the engine as calmly as he can, forcing himself not to turn and check if you’re still watching him through the brightly lit, sliding glass doors. He allows himself a glance through the rear-view mirror as he pulls away from the drive and his heart skips a beat when he realizes you’re still standing there, right in the middle of the lobby, fingers wrapped around the handle of your suitcase, your eyes fixed on the shadow of his retreating car.

He lights the smoke the second he turns the corner, your shadow no longer in his rear-view mirror.

That night, Sanji dreams in fits and leaps, flashing images and long, sticky streams of could-have-beens —

He dreams of your laughter in a white-tiled kitchen, of powdered sugar and eggshells cracked and leaking on an exposed wood counter, chopsticks clinking against a thick glass mixing bowl. He dreams of your voice echoing off the shower tiles as you sing off-key, the way you used to when you’d sneak into his college dorm for movie night and a midnight snack. He dreams of coffee mugs and errant rose petals and dandelion seeds blowing in the wind. He dreams of dancing with you in his arms in a darkened dorm room that morphs into a bigger room with a softer carpet, one that he’d never seen before but he knows implicitly (like bodies know) is his home — it has pictures on the walls, trinkets lining the far bookshelf, your favorite scarf draped over the back of the well-worn sofa.

In the dream, you pull your head back from where it's pillowed against his shoulder and smile up at him. He leans down to kiss you, his lips hovering half an inch from yours.

Sanji jerks awake to the sound of his alarm, fingers fumbling for his phone, groaning as he smashes the orange snooze button and flips over to bury his face back into his lumpy pillow.

“Ah… fuck.”

It’s not the first time he’s had that dream, and he knows it won’t be the last. But it’d been so real that night, real enough to make him wonder if it just might come true.

He rubs at his sleep-crusted eyes and peers blearily at all the notifications on his screen. There’s a text from you with a picture attached. He clicks it open to find a short message attached to the picture — I really did want to surprise you…

He blinks for three seconds at what looks like a blurry picture of studded black silk before he remembers —

“Send me a picture of a corner of the dress — just so I have something to color match against.”

He allows himself a laugh, swinging his feet out of bed even as he types back — you coulda just told me it was black…

He watches the three little dots appear and disappear a few times, chewing on his bottom lip, before the text appears — well there are different shades of black, right???

Sanji laughs, shaking his head.

sure there are.

A string of tongue-out emojis, followed by an equally long string of middle-finger emojis.

He spends the rest of the morning fussing over which specific black tie to wear before settling on one that he’s quite sure is the exact same shade of black as your dress (and yes, he does have quite the collection of black ties), before tugging his best suit out to press.

It shouldn’t feel so easy, slipping back into the rhythm of things, of texting and smiling and hearing your voice in his head when he reads your texts. It shouldn’t feel so easy to forget the months of radio silence and guilt, the oppressive, resonant weight of what might have been if either of you had done a single thing different that day at the airport — he wonders if he should’ve reached for your hand, he wonders if you’d ever looked back.

He hadn’t. He couldn’t let himself.

He is waiting for you in the lobby at 2:45, wearing a hole into the plush Persian carpet, collecting strained looks from the concierge who had assured him three times in the last four minutes that he’d already rung up to your room and that you’d said you were on your way.

“Wow, you’re early — sorry I took a while — I couldn’t figure out what to do with my hair and —“

Sanji lifts his head and thinks distantly that all those rom-com cliches of a guy looking up, time itself slackening, the room smearing sideways around him, the music going slow, the lighting soft — all of it is painfully, startlingly true after all.

Because there you are, walking towards him, still saying something, but he can’t make out the words anymore because time isn’t really a thing anymore, is it? He can’t focus on that and also the dark glimmer of your dress, the way the neckline skates just beneath your collarbones, barely skimming the skin there before it slips down along the slope of your shoulders in a way that makes his breath unspool inside his chest like loose threads.

And in the slanted, ethereal light of the winter afternoon, your dress looks like it’s cut from a swath of darkest midnight, moonless and scattered with stars.

You blush as Sanji attempts to pick his jaw up off the floor and hitch his lips into something resembling a smile.

“W-wow… you look…”

Your smile is shy as you press your palms against the dress, looking down, “Thanks… you don’t think it’s… too much?”

Sanji shakes his head, feeling dazed.

“No! I mean — it’s —“ his mouth is dry, drier than he ever remembers it being, and suddenly it’s very hard to swallow and Sanji isn’t even sure the muscles in his neck know how to perform the action, let alone force words out alongside it. He struggles for another few seconds, his jaw working furiously as his eyes skitter down and back up the shape of you.

“You look… perfect,” he says, finally, because the word has been ricocheting around his chest like a stray bullet and he had to let it out somehow.

“Thanks — you don’t look so bad yourself,” you say, your voice breathy in a way that makes Sanji’s stomach squeeze.

He offers you his arm, and you glide forward to take it.

He drives the three blocks to the wedding venue in a daze, his mind spinning slow and off-axis, tilted so by the gentle waft of your perfume, the lullaby of your voice as you chatter nervously about this and that and the weather, I mean, can you believe it’s gonna be an outdoor wedding in the winter? He wonders briefly why you’re so nervous, and then he’s reminded of the reason he’s even here at all — your ex will be here. Ah. Right.

“Ready?” he asks, offering you his arm again as the both of you follow the meandering stream of arriving guests toward the paved outdoor garden area where the ceremony is due to take place.

“No, but… you’re here so…” you let out a breath and for a second, Sanji almost thinks he hears the hint of an ache in your voice. An ache like an old scab picked at too many times, like unrequited love, perhaps. It’s an ache with which Sanji is so intimately familiar that he immediately tamps it down and vows not to think about it again for the rest of the night.

There are stiff-backed waiters wandering around with plates of hors d’oeuvres and thin flutes of bubbling pink champagne.

Sanji grabs two glasses and hands you one.

“Cheers, then.”

“Bottoms up,” you say, tossing back the entire flute in one.

Sanji cocks his eyebrows, grinning as he follows suit, smacking his lips.

“Alright then, I guess if that’s how you’re playin’ —”

Your laughter is light, if a little strained, but he remembers how quickly bubbly drinks tend to go to your head and makes a concerted effort to slow down. You make it all the way through the actual ceremony without bumping into your ex, though you do lean over and grab Sanji’s hand as the bride and groom exchange vows — something about love being a choice, one that they promise to make every morning of every day for the rest of their lives — and he looks over to find you misty-eyed, bottom lip caught beneath your teeth.

“Sap,” he whispers, leaning over. It earns him a choked laugh and a half-hearted elbow in the ribs, but it’s worth it to see the tension melt from your shoulders.

Sanji turns back towards the bride and groom, exchanging rings now, and unbidden comes the images of you and him standing where they are — you in a dazzling white gown, him still in a dark suit, but one perhaps of more expensive material and much better tailoring. He thinks about all the things he might promise you, wonders at what you might promise him in return —

“I promise to love and cherish you —” you might say.

“I promise to make all your favorite foods,” he might say.

“I promise not to touch your emotional support le creuset pans.”

“I promise not to make you taste all my experimental dishes —”

“Okay, but what if I want to —”

He imagines the way the crowd would titter, how the officiator would affectionately clear his throat. He imagines Zeff’s warm, well-worn laughter, rough and a little torn at the edges because he’s just as sentimental as the next guy behind all the beard and gruffness. He imagines the crowd smiling up at the pair of you, the way you’d squeeze his hands to get the both of you back on track —

He jerks out of his reverie as you tug your hand away from his to clap, and it takes him a beat to realize that everyone else is clapping and cheering too. He blinks — the bride and groom are kissing, pulling apart as the music swells around them and they link hands to walk back down the aisle.

Sanji clears his throat and hurriedly gets up to clap as well, his eyes trailing the radiant smiles on both the newlyweds’ faces. Another sharp ache sings through him but he feels your hand in his again and he can’t tell if he wants to grip you tighter or pull away. They’d both hurt just as much, wouldn’t they?

“C’mon, let’s get inside — I wanna judge the catering with you,” you whisper, your breath tickling his cheek, and he knows without having to look that you’re standing on your tiptoes, your chin almost propped on his shoulder.

He fights down a bout of shivers and smiles, “My favorite part of any formal event, honestly.”

You laugh, “I know — me too.”

So you spend the entire dinner service whispering to each other about the food —

“God, this steak is so well done I think it just might dislocate my jaw —”

“What’s in this sauce?”

Sanji chews thoughtfully before making a face, “Dunno, but it’s got oregano.”

“Oh the cake looks good though.”

“Yeah, but we both know how much sugar and butter goes into that right?”

You nudge him with an elbow, “Weird, cause I’m pretty sure happiness is also made of sugar and butter.”

“Well for me, it’s always been…” but Sanji trails off, biting his tongue. No. He can’t say that — not now. Not here.

Because for him, happiness has always just been you.

So instead, he swallows passed his own mouthful of regrets and attempts a lopsided grin. And thankfully, your attention is drawn elsewhere by a loud peal of laughter before he has to make a shitty joke about happiness being a well-lit kitchen and a gas-lit stove.

You’re both at least a bottle of champagne deep when it finally happens, inevitable as a summer storm — your ex saunters up to you on the dance floor, sporting a grease-slick grin, eyeing you up and down like a piece of well-cut meat. Sanji is at the bar, grabbing more drinks and you’re catching a breath of fresh air just outside the dance hall.

“Well, well, well — look who it is.”

Sanji turns sharply at the sound of the voice, his eyes narrowing — Asshat. Fantastic. The bartender is putting the finishing touches on two custom cocktails but blinks, confused, as Sanji swipes both drinks out from the bar and casts him a hurried grin.

“Thanks mate, these look great,” Sanji raises the cocktail glasses at the bewildered bartender before hurrying off, slowing ever so slightly as he reaches you, straightening his spine and smoothing out his shoulders.

“Here, got them special-made for you,” he says, pressing the cocktail into your hand, cutting into something that Asshat is saying.

“Oh! Thanks — oh wow, this looks so good!” you beam up at him, taking a sip.

“Oh wow, didn’t know you were still hangin’ out with this guy,” Asshat says, hooking his thumbs into his belt-hoops and jutting out his chin.

You frown, pressing your lips, “Excuse me?”

Asshat scoffs, posturing, “I mean, when we broke up, it was cause o’him right? So I just thought you might’ve realized what a mistake that was and —”

Sanji barely has the time to feel offended before Asshat is gasping and stumbling back. You’d tossed the remainder of your drink straight into his face.

“What the —” Asshat sputters, his fists clenching, but quick as anything, Sanji swipes out a leg that catches him right in the shins and makes him stumble. In one fluid movement, Sanji pushes his own drink into your hand before reaching out the other arm to steady the now flailing Asshat, catching him around the shoulders.

“Whoa there! Seems like you’ve had a bit too much to drink, my friend!” he says, loud enough for the people around you to hear. He thumps Asshat on the back in a would-be kind gesture before tugging him close, still coughing, and hissing in his ear —

“Listen here, you asswipe — you’re gonna turn around and walk away and stay the fuck away from us for the rest of this wedding, you understand? I’ve got plenty more o’this for ya if you don’t, got it?”

Sanji scuffs his foot along the gravel-covered ground in a motion that could easily be mistaken as fidgeting, but you know better. And so, it seems, does Asshat, who scoffs and shoves Sanji off him with a glare, but after another second, straightens his drink-soaked jacket, turns, and stalks away.

You let out a long breath, swallowing hard.

“Hey darlin’… you alright?” Sanji turns and bends down to level his eyes with yours.

“Y-yeah — thanks — you didn’t need to —”

“Nah. Course I did — it’s why you invited me, right?” he allows himself a lopsided grin that borders on self-deprecating and you look up, eyes wide.

“No! I — that’s not —”

“It’s okay, love — I promise I’m not offended —” Sanji’s babbling, he knows he is — but he has to, because the alternative of letting you speak, of letting you confirm what he already knows to be true (that you’ve only ever seen him as a best friend, that you love him in all the ways except for the one way he wants you to, in the one way he loves you) is too much. He tucks his hands in his pockets and shrugs up his shoulders, pulling them up towards his ears like armor.

And then you lean in and kiss him, and every single word he’s ever thought of saying just to fill the silence turns to mist and mornings on his tongue. His mind turns blissfully blank and when he regains consciousness (or has he? Because isn’t this the dream he’s dreamt every waking moment of his life for the past… however many years?), he thanks every god he can name that he feels his fingers in your hair, his other hand cupping the soft curve of your jaw. He tastes your uncertainty against his lips and presses in, hoping, praying that if he just kissed you hard enough you might understand.

When you pull away, he can’t help the satisfied purr that curls up his chest at the pinkness in your cheeks and the slightly glazed-over look in your eyes.

“O-oh — sorry I —”

Sanji shakes his head, leaning in to push his forehead against yours.

“Nah, nah, nah — if you tell me that was a mistake now I might just turn around and never speak to you ever again — because don’t you dare —”

You let out a helpless laugh, shaking your head as you reach up to cover his hands with yours. It’s only then that he realizes they’d been shaking. He swallows and he thinks he can taste every single morning after for the rest of his goddamn life in the whisper of your breath.

“It — it’s not, I wasn’t —” you close your eyes and Sanji holds you still, foreheads still pressed. Distantly, Sanji is aware that people are cheering, that more drinks are being poured, that the dance floor is probably a mess. But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t think he’ll care about anything else ever again — why would he? Now that he’s got you.

“Shh… take your time, love… we’ve got all the time in the world.”

He feels the relief take you, and then you’re falling into him, burying your face in the lapel of his suit jacket, probably smearing it with your foundation. Vaguely, Sanji considers framing it when he gets home.

“I’m… I’m sorry it took so long — I’m sorry I didn’t — that I wasn’t…” you curl your fist into the material of his shirt and thump him lightly on the chest, even as he laughs and wraps his arms around you.

“I know, darlin’… I know.” Sanji presses his lips into your hair and can’t help a smile.

Finally. Finally.

Your hair smells like citrus shampoo.

Finally.

“I thought about you every single day,” you admit, your voice small when you finally pull back to look at him again. He thinks there might be tears in your eyes, or maybe it’s just the starlight caught in the thick night sky of your lashes.

“Did you now?” he asks, fumbling for some semblance of normalcy amidst this night of revelations.

You nod, fervently, and god he wants to kiss you again. Briefly, he wonders if he should, if he’s allowed to now. Instead, he smiles and cocks his head.

“So? What changed?” and he can’t help the tiny note of hurt out of his voice, the slightest shiver of disbelief. After all, cynicism is a hard habit to break.

Especially after so many years of practice.

You shrug, sighing, “Nothing — everything. I mean — I’d always… but then I thought — you had your career as a chef and I didn’t even know what I wanted to do with my life. But it —” you lick your lips, and Sanji nearly breaks when you tear your eyes away from his. He wants to force you back, to soak in the dark and bright of your gaze till he can see the world exactly as you see it.

“It’s always been you…” you say.

At this, Sanji does break. He tips your face towards him with a thumb and a forefinger and leans in, waiting for you to pull back, bracing for it. But you don’t — instead, you press in and close the space between you again, and again, and then again.

He wants to tell you — he needs to tell you that it’s always been you too, that there’s never been anyone else. From the moment he first laid eyes on you, he’s known, even though both of you were children back then, and neither of you had any idea what “love” actually meant. He knew then, too.

“Love…” his voice trails off, but you smile, and he knows you know, knows that you can hear it in the rawness behind his voice, in the softness of his breath, in the way it shakes.

You make to kiss him again. But your lips hover half an inch from his and you stop. Sanji sighs.

“What — why’d you stop?”

Your smile is sweet and sharp, honey glinting on a razor’s edge, and he knows that he has you. And maybe that he’s always had you and was just too blind, too terrified, to see it.

“Haven’t you heard? It’s a metaphor.”

Sanji groans, “Fuck your metaphors.”

You bat your lashes, pulling an expression of mock affront onto your face.

“Well at least wine me and dine me first —”

Sanji licks his lips, “What’dyou think I’ve been trying to do for the last ten years?”

Your breath catches.

“Oh.”

Sanji smirks and kisses you again, slowly this time, languid and deep. Unhurried. He luxuriates in the way you go soft in his arms, in the way he can feel the gentle hitch of your breath as he runs his tongue along the edges of your teeth, coaxing you towards him, closer and closer and closer.

The hardest, angriest part of him wants to swallow you whole, bite down just to hear you hiss, to taste your blood on his tongue. To make you feel even a sliver of the pain he’d felt. He tamps it back down — there’s time for that later.

Instead, he forces himself to pull back and allows himself the satisfaction of watching you chase him, pursing your own lips with a bashful look away, your cheeks dark.

“So,” Sanji takes half a step back, puffing out his chest in the best imitation of a fuckboy at a wedding party, “wanna get outta here?”

You let out a helpless laugh, falling into his side. He lets the sound ring through him like so many silver bells.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

He chuckles, looping an arm around your middle and leaning towards your ear.

“Your place, or mine?”

You roll your eyes, “I’m pretty sure I still have a toothbrush at your place.”

Sanji hums, “You still have a whole drawer at my place.”

You smile up at him, open and happy and sincere, “Then… I guess that’s your answer then.”

[sevs-corner]

Tf 141! As classic highschool jock tropes

(Im brainrotting agane so lets get this outta the way)

Tw: nsfw themes/ implications 18+ !!

So the 4 are the popular kids for sure

However wacky they may be, or how god awful their reputation is— the people love em, and are very VERY downbad for ‘em

Price, as the captain of the rugby team, is the cocky type

Overconfident, knows how to sell himself, the typical rich kid that would hold parties after every game win

And they always win

Price is the Troy Bolton equivalent, with all the talents but none of the motivation to use ‘em or explore the arts

He is committed to the game, and the only time where you can find him dead serious and hyper focused

Though in relationships? He’s far from that

Body count? Don’t even try and think about it, its not like he keeps score either

But he does score them based on how good they are (he is BI and will fuck anyone)

The fact that he hasn’t fucked you would be quite rare

Protection king actually, because he will NOT take responsibility for what happens after the deed

But that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t raw dog you if you wanted to :)

Ghost, is still as enigmatic as ever and the most brooding out of the four

But that doesn’t mean he won’t kick your ass

To be honest, he wouldn’t hold back at ALL (especially if you insulted his rock music or his fashion sense)

He does play in the same team as Price, and is actually his second in command

He’s super quick on his feet because he does boxing at the side

(How else would he expel all of his angsty teenage energy?)

That’s why he’s always sluggish and the type to sleep in class (but still get straight As ‘cause he’s just a natural smart ass like that)

Teachers are afraid of this man and is also scared of the backing that he has because of his parents and his association with Price and his own parents too (they fund the school board)

In terms of hooking up other people…

He doesn’t do it often but when he does-

Well, let’s just say that people go to him if they feel a little…experimental

Aftercare? The bare minimum ‘cause he knows its intense

Will he do it often and go out of his way to do it? No (but maybe he would for you)

Gaz, is the the “nice” guy out of the four

He’s the type to always get straight As, participate in all the projects, join community projects, be student council president—

Yes, he wants absolute control under his finger tips

People really don’t know if they’re being tugged on strings with him at the helm, doing every bit of his bidding without even him lifting a single finger

While he sits there, looking all pretty

He does play sports but is quite average

But you already know that he’s the one lifting his shirt for the nice lowkey, candid abs pic

Always a performer in the field, which sometimes pisses off Price and Ghost (they’re very competitive when they get into the zone) but really does decently enough that he gets scouted too

Although, he prefers that he handles more of the internal working of school

Slowly ensuring that the four of them have absolute control of the school— all for their amusement of course

His hook-up culture is a bit…skewed

A sadist in the sheets and a masochist in the closet

An absolute wild animal if you managed to hook up with him

But if he hooks up with any of the three other guys?

Well, let’s (also) just say that Ghost has to get his practice in somehow, right? Or when he’s frustrated and need to take it out in a…more sensual way

He is as willing as the day he joined them

Soap, is the wildest party animal out of the four

And because of that, he’s the go-to guy for supplies in alcohol and drugs

Even has connections in getting places for parties (like abandoned parks, houses, a lake side getaway- whatever you wanted he’ll get it)

But for a pretty penny, of course

He is the stash keeper in terms of money and all of the above

He’s also the hustler, working hand-in-hand with Ghost whenever they need to deal with someone

Unruly doesn’t quite match the energy he gives off everyday

Messing and pranking with the teachers aren’t even enough for him

Vandalizing is too common and just wreaking havoc is the name of his game

He does play on the team with the rest but often gets fouls or does foul play that he gets red carded out immediately anyways

Does he care for any type of attraction with hook-ups? Nope

He just fucks ‘em and leaves, responsibilities be damned

You chose to be with him anyways, right? Its not like forced you to the lone room upstairs or anything

Its not him who removed his clothes in front him— it was all your own will and he simply just jumped at the opportunity and your wide open arms

You, on the other hand, just transferred to this school

Unknowing of its inner workings

You find yourself at this school because of a troubled family life

With such a failure in their lives, they decide to dump you here by your lonesome

And now you have to figure out how to live in and outside of this school

Lemme know if you want more crumbs of this hehe <3

[lindsay00000008]

Ghost x Fem!Reader

Part 1 (Next)

CW: panty-thief, suggestive fluff

DownBad!Simon Ghost Riley who just loves handling the frustrating, mundane, mildly-anxiety-inducing issues in JustAFriend!Reader’s life.

For a man who’s been through… everything, nothing phases him. Not the phone call to pressure your old landlord into giving you back your deposit, not the broken dryer and the giant pile of wet laundry that needs to be hung in increasingly ridiculous locations, not the stray cat birthing a mewling litter on your doorstep in the middle of winter, or the neighborhood’s package thief stealing your delivery of what may be something electric and flower-shaped.

If you didn’t know any better (you don’t), you’d say he gets a kick out of it, how easily he handled these things compared to you. His take-no-bullshit demeanor, coupled with the respect afforded to those who earn it, smooths things over fairly quickly with difficult people.

He’s handy and likes taking things apart — he’s sure you won’t miss the dusty lace panties he finds slipped under the dryer’s barrel when he bullies the metal frame open (they were your favorite, where on earth did they go??)

When the kittens are a few weeks old and Simon comes to visit with more supplies, they snuggle up under his chin as he slumps on the rug, the furious blush from your earlier teasing (“Daddy’s home!”) warming him from his cheeks to his toes and making him the most cozy spot in the room. He waves off the offer of a hot drink and tells you to “Open a window or sumin’, the lil’ bastards are smotherin’ me”.

When he catches the package thief red-handed on his way up to your door — a fourty-something woman who talks at him louder and meaner than anyone has in a long while — he gives his best impression of a bull at the edge of an unmarked field, making his territory known with a wild look rather than words. When he sets the package down on the kitchen counter, along with the ingredients for tonight’s Thursday Dinner Experiment, he prompts you to open it. “Wanna see what my hard work has earned ya.”

You slice the tape and pop open the cardboard before you remember — and slam the flaps back down. That has his attention. “Whatcha got there, lovie?” He crowds in behind you, looking over your shoulder and grinning, lopsided so you can only see the smirk on the left of his mouth when you turn your head to stammer, “uhh n-nothing, just this stupid book someone recommended me. Can’t let the gang know I fuck with hockey romance, haha.”

“Hockey, huh?” He huffs and leans his elbow on the counter, half of his body still behind you somehow. You pull the box close to your chest, hands shifting to best keep it closed.

“Lemme just take this to my room and we can start making-“

“You’d deprive a man of valuable literary experience?”

“No, nuh-uh,” you dance away as he grabs for it teasingly, fast enough to make you panic but not too fast you can’t get away. A play fight. Your pulse thrums fast in your chest, like it always does when he gets that calculating glint in his eye. It’s thrilling, the way his shoulders shift and settle low, and his touch comes gentle and fast, his face a terrifying mask with that piercing glint of playfulness just barely hidden. You usually love this game. But he cannot see this.

His hand rushes towards you as you skirt backwards into the living room, his fingers tangling in the tape hanging from the box. It tears away and you shriek a laugh at his efforts, leaving him with nothing but another opening as you twist to run to your room. But you don’t count on another opponent entering the ring: the rug — trundled up the stairs by the man himself, the previous one sacrificed to the God of Foster Cats — still new and curling at the edge.

He must not expect it either. Before you’ve fully turned you’re falling into the couch, catching his arm in a bid to save yourself. He goes down too, landing atop you. Your “Oomph”s mingle together in the suddenly still air. His big body makes it impossible to breathe until he lifts up on his arms and takes stock of the situation. He eyes snag on the box where it’s fallen, the shiny inner box and red packing grass spilled out on the rug. You attempt to wriggle out before he sees. Your legs are firmly pinned between his own. You wait for him to laugh.

“Well that,” he breathes, not a giggle in sight. He settles his eyes on you with a look of hot reproach. “That is not a book.”

He hopes it’s broken. That’s a problem of yours he’d love to have a hand in solving.

(Next)

[angelsuecult]

bundle of joy | s. crosby

warnings: none that I know of?

summary: Sid feels guilty about missing too much time with your newborn baby and is doing his best to keep up on a particularly restless night

wordcount: 4.6k

a/n: back with some girldad sid! I hope you guys like this one as much as i did writing it! also im going to try to post more often as long as i keep having ideas! anyway enjoy!

The house feels softer tonight, like it’s finally taken a breath. Sidney’s home, and the weight that usually sits in your chest—the one that settles in every time he’s away—has lightened. You’re both exhausted in different ways, piecing together this new rhythm of parenthood. There’s a quietness about the evening, a gentle peace, as you watch Sid watching her, mesmerized by the little miracle beside him. It’s almost like he’s studying her, absorbing every tiny expression, every noise and stretch.

The game’s over, the travel bags are set aside, and he’s finally here, laying with your daughter with the kind of admiration he once reserved for stepping onto the ice. Sid has this tenderness that makes him almost reverent, as if he’s still in awe that she’s real, that she’s his.

Dinner dishes are still in the sink, and a warm, sleepy atmosphere hangs over everything as you sit nearby, watching Sidney and your baby girl on the floor, her little cheeks pressed against her blanket for tummy time.

Sid is lying on his stomach, his head resting on his folded arms, totally captivated by her tiny features, the way she furrows her brow in concentration, her delicate fingers splaying against the blanket as she wobbles slightly. She’s getting stronger every day, her head lifting just a bit higher each time.

He doesn’t say it out loud, but you know Sid has been feeling the weight of being away—the way he hovers around her every chance he gets, like he’s making up for all the moments he can’t be there. She’s only ten weeks old, yet his heart aches each time he misses even a second of her life.

As if sensing his thought, she makes a delighted little noise, her whole face lighting up, and he laughs softly. “Okay, okay, I hear you,” he says, reaching out to gently tickle her sides, watching her squirm with joy. “You’re just a bundle of joy, aren’t you?”

She kicks her chubby legs, her little hands pressed into the soft blanket as she lifts her head, wobbling slightly as she tries to hold her balance. And every time her gaze lands back on her dad, her face lights up in the sweetest smile.

“Look at you, so strong already,” Sidney cooed, his voice soft and full of pride. “You’re making Daddy look bad, you know that? I don’t think I was doing half of this at your age.”

She gurgled back, a happy, nonsensical sound, her wide eyes never leaving his face. Sidney felt his heart squeeze, a warmth spreading through his chest as he reached out to brush a gentle hand over her back, his fingers feather-light, reassuring. The start of the season had taken more time than he wanted away from his girls, but this moment — her looking at him like he was her entire world — was exactly what he’d been longing for.

Every few minutes, he would pick up one of her favorite toys, holding it out for her in an attempt to keep her entertained. But no matter how he waved the little stuffed bear or shook the rattle, her attention never strayed far from him.

“She’s obsessed with you,” you say softly, smiling from where you’re watching them. You’ve seen her go wild for her toys and the bright colors of her mobile, but nothing lights her up like Sid’s voice, his gentle touches, the way he looks at her with that unending awe.

Sid laughs, a warm, almost shy chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck as he keeps his eyes on her. “I think I’m the obsessed one,” he replies, unable to stop himself from smiling as she wiggles her way closer, her tiny hands clutching at the blanket beneath her as she babbles at him.

“You’re not even gonna look at your favorite toys?” he teases softly, nudging one of the soft blocks with his finger to catch her eye. But she only giggles, her face lighting up at his voice, and he laughs, clearly thrilled she’s so focused on him.

She lets out a soft, happy coo, reaching her chubby little hand toward Sid. He beams, taking her hand in his much larger one, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss. “You’re just the sweetest little thing, aren’t you, princess?”

She makes a delighted noise, all bright eyes and tiny, wiggling fingers, her whole little body lighting up at the sound of his voice. She watches him with utter fascination, her eyes tracking his every move as he leans closer, making a gentle raspberry sound that makes her giggle. The little coos and gurgles that follow are filled with pure joy, as if she can’t believe how lucky she is to have her dad right there.

He lifts a little plush penguin, giving it a soft shake to make it squeak, trying to get her attention. “Look, sweet pea, it’s Mr. Waddles,” he coos, giving the toy a gentle wave. But she just blinks at it once, then goes right back to staring at him with a look of pure adoration. He can’t help but laugh, warmth filling his voice as he lowers the toy.

“Oh, so I’m the favorite, huh?” he murmurs, leaning in close. “Sorry, Mr. Waddles, you’ve been replaced.” His voice is soft, tender, the same way he speaks to you in quiet moments. It’s clear she has him wrapped around her tiny finger.

Sidney grinned, scooting even closer, so his face was right next to hers. The two of them shared a silent understanding, a bond that needed no words. She reached out with one tiny hand, resting it on his cheek, her fingers barely grazing his skin, and Sid could feel his heart swell.

He lifts a soft, crinkly book to her, giving it a shake. “You don’t want to play with this one, either? This is a good one.” She gives him an adorable little frown before her eyes settle back on his face, and he can’t help but laugh. “Fine, fine,” he says, dropping the book and settling onto his elbow so he’s even closer to her. “I guess I’ll just have to keep entertaining you myself.”

He talks to her, telling her about the game last night, how they pulled through in the third period, even throwing in some dramatics, his eyes lighting up as he describes each detail in a gentle, funny voice. She stares up at him, her gaze never wavering, and every so often, he pauses to brush a finger over her tiny hand or to press a kiss to her head, whispering little things only meant for her.

He let her tiny fingers grip his finger, her little hand wrapping around it with surprising strength. “You know, I missed you guys this week. Daddy’s been gone too much, huh?” The guilt he’d been carrying all week melted away, at least for now. Being here, watching her, feeling her little fingers on his skin — this was exactly where he wanted to be.

When she seemed to tire a bit, her arms wobbling from the effort of tummy time, Sidney gently rolled her onto her back and scooped her up, bringing her close to his chest. She snuggled in without hesitation, a satisfied little sigh escaping her lips, and Sidney pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.

You laughed, shaking your head. “If she wasn’t overdue for a bath, I’d leave you two to your little love fest. But she’s getting a bit—stinky.”

Sidney pretended to gasp, looking down at her with an exaggerated expression of shock. “Stinky? You, my little angel? No way.”

Her eyes still fixed on him, clearly reluctant to leave her special time with him. Sidney chuckled, lifting her up into his arms with the same gentleness he always did. “Alright, stinky butt, it’s bath time. Let’s get you all cleaned up.”

He padded down the hall toward the bathroom, her head resting on his shoulder as he held her close. She gave a little sigh, already so at ease in his arms, and he couldn’t resist pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You smell like trouble, you know that?” he murmured, amused by the little puff of air she let out in response.

He took his time, cherishing every moment, his hands gentle and steady as he helped wash each tiny arm, each pudgy little leg. She never took her eyes off him, her smile wide and pure, her complete adoration for him clear in every happy babble, every soft coo.

As you dry her off, Sidney’s hands are gentle as they towel her tiny body, careful and tender in a way that only comes from a love he’s discovering more deeply every day.

You watch him with a soft smile, knowing he’s been missing moments like these more than he’d ever admit. With the season in full swing, he’s been away more often than he’d like, and though you always reassure him, he still carries the weight of wanting to be here for every second, every milestone.

He gently lifts her into his arms, cradling her close as he turns to you with a soft smile. “Come on, let’s get this little one to bed,” he whispers, carrying her to the nursery, dimly lit and perfectly peaceful, designed just for her. Her crib is tucked beneath a mobile that slowly spins with soft woodland creatures.

His movements gentle and careful as he laid her down on the changing table, her little legs kicking out as made tiny noises, those adorable baby coos that melted his heart. He grinned, running a thumb over her soft skin. “Let’s get you ready for bed, sweetheart,” he whispered.

He dressed her slowly, savoring every little wiggle, every soft sound she made. “You’re gonna try and sleep so well for us tonight, huh?” he cooed, securing her diaper and slipping her into the soft pajamas that you had picked out earlier. They were navy-colored, adorned with little stars—your favorite, and now his too.

You watched from the doorway, leaning against the frame with a sleepy smile. This had become your nightly routine: bath time, lullabies, and then watching Sid handle the last bit of getting her dressed and ready for bed.

Sid turned toward you, holding your little girl close to his chest, her tiny hand resting against his shoulder. “She’s perfect,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the calm of the moment.

“She is,” you agreed softly, stepping into the room. You rested your hand on his back, the familiar warmth of his body bringing you comfort. Despite everything, you had never once doubted what a good father Sid was, or the love he had for both of you. But you knew how much he hated missing out, and that guilt sometimes crept into moments like these.

She let out a soft, sleepy sigh, her little body snuggling further into Sid’s chest. You both fell silent, watching her drift off in his arms. These moments were precious—the stillness, the quietness that settled over your little family as the day wound down.

Sid carefully placed her in her crib, pulling her soft, knitted blanket over her. His hand lingered on her for a moment, watching the rise and fall of her breathing, as if committing every detail to memory. He turned back to you, taking your hand and leading you out of the nursery, quietly closing the door behind him.

In the dim light of your bedroom, the fatigue of the day began to weigh on you. Sid helped you slip into bed, pulling the covers up as he joined you. His hand found yours beneath the blanket, squeezing gently.

These days, Sid’s schedule seemed to pull him away more than either of you wanted, and though you hadn’t said a word, he could see it. The way motherhood clung to you—something beautiful but heavy. Sid hadn’t known it could be like this: the love, yes, but also the guilt, especially in moments like these when he could hold his tiny daughter, damp curls pressed to her head and sleepy eyes blinking up at him, feeling like he'd missed so much already. He was trying to make up for lost time, just as much for you as for her.

It had been a whirlwind since her birth, every day a blend of deep love, a bit of exhaustion, and a growing sense of awe at the little life together you had created. The guilt had slowly crept in, especially when he saw how naturally and constantly you tended to her. You never made him feel like he was falling short, never once said he wasn’t doing enough. But Sid felt the weight of what he could be doing — what he wanted to do for both of you.

He’d started noticing the little things, the way your shoulders slumped when you finally sank into bed at the end of the day, or how you’d stare off with a distant look as if you were running through a mental list of the million things you had to do. It struck him that you were tired in a way he hadn’t quite understood before becoming a dad. This was a different kind of tired — a kind that meant you were giving every part of yourself.

Sid had long made a silent vow to himself when she was born. Whenever he got the chance, he would take on the nightshift — he’d be the one to wake up whenever she cried, needed comfort, a bottle, or just to be held. Whatever it took to let you rest, he was committed to it.

The night was thick with stillness, save for the faint hum of the baby monitor on the nightstand. Sidney lay with one arm wrapped around you, listening to the gentle sound of your breathing, each rise and fall a comfort he’d come to rely on.

Just as he started to drift off, a faint cry cut through the quiet, little and insistent. It was that particular sound he was learning to recognize—It was just past 1 a.m. when he heard her. She stirred first, little whimpers escaping before her cry broke out, sharp and insistent, as if she were testing her strength. He could feel you stirring, instinctively moving to sit up, but he was quicker.

“Hey, hey, shh,” he whispered, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I got it, baby. Go back to sleep.”

You murmured something, half asleep, but the warmth of his hand and his reassurance kept you in place. Satisfied that you were settling back down, he slipped out of bed, letting you settle back into the warmth of the blankets. The nursery was just down the hall, but as he walked through the quiet house, he felt his heart swell with excitement, knowing he’d get these next few hours with his little girl.

When he entered the nursery, he found her lying in her crib, tiny fists waving in the air, her face scrunched up in a way that was almost comical.

“Hey there, little one,” he murmured, reaching down to scoop her up. “You miss me already, huh? Can’t blame you. I missed you too.”

She wiggled slightly, her little face pressing against his chest as he held her close. Her cries softened, her tiny hands curling into his shirt. Sid could feel the small weight of her body, the warmth of her cheek against him, and it made his heart ache with love. These were the moments he’d missed, and he could feel just how much they meant to him now, holding her close in the stillness of the night.

As he swayed gently, he whispered to her, his voice barely above a murmur, ““What’s the matter, huh? You missing some snuggles? Or maybe you’re just checking in on me, making sure I’m still on duty?” He smiled softly, rubbing her back with gentle circles, just like he’d seen you do a hundred times. ““Well, I missed you, too, you know. Just because I’m over there with Mom doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about you.”

She let out a small, contented sigh, her face nuzzling into his shoulder, and Sid chuckled softly. “That’s my girl,” he whispered. “See? We got this.”

Once she settled, Sid carefully placed her back in the crib, watching her for a few long moments to make sure she was comfortable. Her little body relaxed, her face softening as she drifted back to sleep, and Sid let out a quiet sigh of relief.

After a while Sid slipped back into bed beside you. “She went down easy,” he whispered, a hint of pride in his voice as he kissed your shoulder again.

The second time she woke, Sid felt her cries before he fully registered them, his instincts kicked in before he was even conscious. He was almost up when he noticed you stir, your hand reaching out instinctively. Before you could lift your head, Sid’s hand was there, resting over yours.

“It’s okay, babe,” he murmured, squeezing your hand gently. “Stay in bed, I’ve got her.”

You opened one eye, looking at him, a mix of gratitude and exhaustion in your gaze. “Are you sure? You’ve barely slept yourself.”

Sid just smiled, brushing a hand over your cheek. “I don’t mind. She’s only this little once, right?”

You smiled sleepily, sinking back into the sheets as he stood, heading once more to the nursery. This time, her cries were a little louder, more insistent, and when he picked her up, he could feel her squirming, fussing against him. He rubbed her back, bouncing gently as he paced the room.

“Oh, I know, sweetie. You’re really mad this time, huh?” He chuckled softly, walking over to the window, showing her the soft moonlight outside. “Nothing like a good cry in the middle of the night to get all that extra energy out, huh? Are you working on your lung power?”

She hiccuped, her cries faltering slightly as she listened to his voice. Sid kept talking, the sound of his soft words seeming to calm her. “There’s my strong girl. You can tell me all about it, I’ll listen. I’m all ears. But maybe we could talk about it in a whisper? Just for now? Mom’s still sleeping.”

Her little head leaned into his shoulder, her cries softening to soft, hiccupy breaths as he continued to sway, whispering to her.

“There we go, that’s it. I knew you had it in you.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, feeling the warmth of her tiny body as she settled against him. “You know, sometimes Dad needs these little reminders, too. I miss you during the day, you know that? So I don’t mind these late-night check-ins. Means I get a little extra time with my girl.”

After a while, she was calmer, her breaths evening out, and Sid was able to settle her back into her crib. He brushed a hand over her hair, smiling as she nestled down, her tiny fist clutching her blanket. “Goodnight again, baby girl. Sleep tight, alright?”

As you both settled into sleep, Sid’s arm wrapped around your waist, you felt at peace. The challenges of new parenthood weren’t easy, but with Sid by your side, they felt just a little lighter.

It was the third time that night that Sid heard her cry. It was early—too early, the sun hadn’t even started to rise, and the world outside was still fast asleep. But inside, their baby girl’s cry pierced the silence, loud and insistent, the kind of hungry wail that signaled she was ready to eat now.

Sid blinked awake instantly, feeling the tiny pang of exhaustion in his body, but it didn’t matter. He could hear how deep you were sleeping beside him, finally getting the rest you so desperately needed. You didn’t stir, and he was relieved for that. He had promised he’d take care of everything tonight, and that’s exactly what he intended to do.

Sliding quietly out of bed, Sid moved through the hallway with practiced stealth, heading to the nursery. As soon as he entered the room, he found his baby girl squirming in her crib, her face scrunched up in frustration, those tiny fists waving in the air. Her cry was urgent but not frantic, a signal to him that she was uncomfortable, but also that she knew help was coming.

“Shh, I’m here, sweetheart,” Sid whispered, leaning over to scoop her into his arms. The moment she was against his chest, her cries softened a little, though her face still showed her impatience. He smiled, adjusting her tiny body against him, holding her close. “I know, baby girl, you’re hungry, huh? I’ve got you. Let’s go get your bottle.”

As if on cue, she let out another cry, and Sid chuckled softly, rubbing her back. “Okay, okay, we’ll get you taken care of,” he whispered. “Come on, let’s get you a nice breakfast, yeah?”

He walked with her through the house, each creak of the floor carefully avoided as he carried her toward the kitchen. The house was still so dark, but Sid knew his way around even without lights. Her little head rested against his chest, her soft whimpers filling the air as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“It’s okay, we’ll get you fed in no time,” he murmured. He could feel her tiny heartbeat against his chest, the way her breath hitched every few seconds as she calmed down in his arms. It made his own heart swell with love. These were the moments he craved, the quiet, intimate times when it was just him and his daughter.

Sid carefully warmed the bottle, keeping one hand on her as she nestled against him. She was still hungry, still fussing, but being close to him seemed to soothe her just enough to stop the full-on crying. Once the bottle was ready, Sid tested the temperature before cradling her more securely in his arms.

“Alright, sweet girl, here we go,” he whispered, holding the bottle to her lips. She latched on immediately, those big, wide eyes locking on him, and for a moment, everything else disappeared.

Sid walked them back to the nursery, her soft suckling the only sound in the stillness of the house. He sat down in the reclining chair, easing into it carefully as he watched her drink. His hand rested gently on her back, supporting her, while the other held the bottle steady.

“You’re getting so big,” he said softly, his voice full of awe. It was incredible how much she had grown in just 10 weeks. He couldn’t help but marvel at her every day—at her tiny fingers that clung to his hands, her soft cheeks that had filled out since the day she was born, and the way she gazed up at him, as if she already knew him completely.

As she finished the bottle, Sid wiped her mouth gently with a cloth before lifting her to his shoulder to burp her. “You did so good, baby girl,” he murmured, rubbing her back in slow circles. “I’m so proud of you.” It took a few moments, but eventually, a small, satisfied burp escaped her, and Sid chuckled quietly.

She was much more relaxed now, her body soft and pliant against his as he settled her back into his arms. He extended the recliner, shifting her to lay comfortably against his chest. Her head rested right over his heart, her tiny arm tucked under his, as if giving him a hug, while the other lay beside her face, curled into a little fist. Sid draped her small blanket over her, ensuring she was warm, then pulled a larger blanket around them both, tucking a pillow under his arms to keep her safe.

He looked down at her, her eyelids fluttering as she began to drift off, her breath evening out into soft little puffs. Sid couldn’t stop staring. The way her face softened as she fell asleep, the gentle rise and fall of her tiny chest—it was everything. These were the moments he’d been missing, the ones he craved.

“Look at you,” he whispered, voice full of love. “You’re just perfect, you know that?” His lips brushed against the top of her head, his arms tightening around her as he rocked the chair ever so slightly. He could feel her settling into him, her tiny body molding to his as if she belonged there, right over his heart.

Sid let out a quiet breath, overwhelmed by how grateful he felt. In this moment, there was nothing else—no guilt, no pressure, just him and his baby girl, wrapped in the quiet of the early morning. This was what he had missed. Not just the milestones, but the quiet, in-between moments. The way her body relaxed against his, the soft warmth of her skin, the trust she had in him to keep her safe.

“You know,” he whispered, “I’m so lucky to be your dad.” His voice was soft, full of emotion, even though she was too young to understand. “I’m gonna be here for you, no matter what. I’m always gonna take care of you.”

Her tiny hand twitched slightly, her fingers curling against his chest as she let out a soft sigh in her sleep. Sid smiled, his heart swelling with an overwhelming sense of love.

“And your mom,” he added, his thoughts drifting back to you, peacefully asleep in the other room. “She’s the best, you know? She’s taking such good care of you—I’m just trying to keep up.” He chuckled quietly, brushing a finger gently along the curve of his daughter’s cheek. “But I’m getting there, baby girl. I’m getting there.”

The house remained quiet, the early morning still cloaked in darkness, but Sid didn’t mind. He would stay like this for as long as she needed, holding her close, listening to her soft breaths as she slept. He kissed her head again, inhaling the sweet scent of baby lotion and her natural warmth.

There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her, for you. In moments like this, it was easy to forget the worries and the pressures, the things that made him doubt if he was doing enough. All that mattered was this—being here, being present, and making sure his little girl felt loved and safe.

As he rested his head back against the recliner, Sid kept one arm securely around her, the other resting on her back, his fingers lightly tracing patterns along her tiny spine. He couldn’t stop watching her. Every little movement she made, every soft sigh, was precious. He felt a deep sense of gratitude, knowing that despite the hard days, despite the exhaustion, he got to be a part of this—these quiet moments, these little pieces of magic that made it all worth it.

He couldn’t help but marvel at how perfect she was, every little detail of her face, her tiny nose and delicate eyelashes, the way her mouth twitched slightly in sleep. She was his whole world, and in that quiet, early-morning stillness, he felt a peace he’d never known before.

“You’re my whole heart, little one,” he whispered, his voice full of warmth and love. “Thank you for letting me be your dad. I promise I’m gonna do my best to be the dad you deserve.”

With that, he settled back, letting himself drift off with her tiny heartbeat pressed against his body, her soft breaths filling the quiet of the room as the first rays of dawn began to light up the sky.

[h0neybane]

EVLEO FANKIDS!!

leona's dna is so strong. damn 😭😭😭😭 im gonna do more detailed refs later, but you can have these headshots for now!!

these are Maya and Obuya Kingscholar! they're 18 years old and twins! both are in savanaclaw as third years.

more utc (personalities, interests, etc)

(hi taru if ur reading this... im snatching this straight from our dms LMFAO)

maya's an extrovert who's very confident and she makes a great leader! she's loves talking to people and is always up and running about. shes very caring towards others and isn't afraid to show it (most of the time...) shes very sharp and witty, though her downfall is that she can get REALLY competitive. its ok she has rizz...

she loooves science, particularly biology (though she loves potionology and alchemy too). she likes to hang out in the botanical gardens a lot because she likes nature! she can rattle off a bunch of animal facts off the top of her head. sometimes when shes talking to other beastmen or mermen she'll complete a sentence and they're just like "...why do you know that." in addition to that she is very athletic and plays spelldrive like her dad! sometimes when shes stressed she'll run a mile and then go back to whatever she was doing HAHA. she also sings sometimes except shes super shy about it n' doesn't like doing it in front of anyone

now, remember when i said she's not afraid to show how much she cares for others most of the time? when this girl REALLY falls in love she becomes the most cringefail girlloser EVEERRR. shes like a textbook tsundere!!!! shes stuttering and fumbling and lord help her..... luckily for her she takes a while to fall for someone genuinely. she prefers to show her love through physical affection, gifts, and quality time.

moving onto obuya!

obuya's an introvert! he was shyer as a kid, but he's more confident in himself now. he's chill and very lax! kind of like a sleepy kitty... i just know this mf is singlehandedly perpetuating cat beastman stereotypes. he's super sleepy all the time, constantly taking naps, he probably drinks a warm glass of milk b4 he goes to bed 😭. he's basically a gentle giant! though his strength is definitely not to be underestimated. he's competitive as well, just not as much as his sister. he can get a little wild when he's excited though, DJAOSDAS.

he's very much a history nerd. u ask him how often he thinks of the roman empire and his answer is just "Yes." hes a language arts nerd too!!!! ! he loves to read..... also, he has a guilty pleasure for romance HAHADUJISAOK. he has a big stash of romance novels in his room!! he likes most arts in general, going from movies, fashion, and visual art, which he does! he paints and does digital occasionally; a friend dragged him into fandom and now he cant escape... on the outside he looks like this cool suave chill guy but hes really just. a nerd. he has his hair pushed back with a dumb headband and his glasses on and hes laying down on his stomach kicking his feet while reading MASODSAJMKALSM. he also has a big soft spot for animals! as for when he's in love, there isnt a big noticable difference from the outside. he's already a very affectionate person, so nothing may seem out of place... until you find him writing his crush's name with his surname in a little notebook aDJSIADJOAKND. obuya, like his mother, loves love, and WILL be thinking about his crush AALLLLL the time. he shows his love through physical affection, quality time, and acts of service.

maya and obuya are very close!! they prefer to stick by each other's side and have mostly the same friends. i think actually they got invitations to both nrc AND rsa; both chose nrc together. additionally, they both cook with eachother and just do daily chores and vibe at ramshackle; someones gotta maintain it after all!! they both enjoy not really having to think abt stuff, which is why they don't just do it with magic.

thats all i have finished for now!! theres still more for me to decide, and a bunch of doodles 2do, but i want people to see my twins!

tagging: @taruruchi @honeyedpearcrushh @teighveepao @boopshoops @scint1llat3

@h2llish @viperbunnies @buttholesparkles @oya-oya-okay @cheerleaderman

@qsoap @angelwishess @gimmeurmoneyagh

plus (because fankids): @moonyasnow @skibidibabygirl @justm3di0cr3 @blood-red-bumblebee @beneathsakurashade @screamintoad @babyghoul138

[deadmeat666]

COURT FUCK hoshiumi korai x top amab reader

warnings. public sex, creampie, extremely shameless kourai, exhibitionism, someone took a picture of them going at it in the end. and the biggest one is extremely bad and rushed writing.

A/N. guys i love him so much you don't even know. this is based off adlers hoshiumi because he's so cute. NOT proofread cuz im lazy like that.

minors, fujoshis and blank blogs DNI.

Loud cheering were heard in the background, but it felt like the only sounds you were hearing are skin on skin contact and Kourai's shameless moaning. You tried to remember what even got you here in the first place, but you'd immediately be snapped out of your though when his hole would squeeze, sucking in your cock hungrily, incaging it inside his tight hole.

At this point, you were basically multitasking. Holding his hips in place as you continue to shape his inside into the shape of your cock, as you continue to search in your mind for at least, at least some kind of a lead.

God, of course he had to have such an intoxicating body. Was this on purpose? His milky skin flushed as sweats trickled down, the way you were holding his hips so hard to leave a bruise on his soft flesh. His moans. God, his moans. They echoed through your ears, encouraging you to go harder, faster, leave the Hoshiumi Kourai all knocked up.

Ah. You remembered now. It was after a match against Schweiden Adlers. Ultimately, your team had lost. But Kourai was greedy. He felt like a nice, clean victory over your team wasn't enough for him, no. He wanted more. Something that'd leave him all satisfied—not really. He'd still come crawling back at you, begging on his knees, wanting more, more and more, every hour of the day, 24/7. In different position every time. Oh, you both are in public? Well, they all can watch! He loves the thrill of someone or even multiple people recording him. Waking up next morning in your bed, all sore and nicely bred. He'd check his phone specifically Twitter (now branded to X but I can't bring myself to write it) to see him all over the frontpage, with you absolutely fucking him like a wild animal. But let's put all of that aside for now.

You couldn't tell if people noticed. Both of you were engaging it in a semi-secluded corner of the court. The next round had already kicked off. Maybe Hoshiumi was hoping for the people on the stands to take notice and tear their attention away from the game, onto the both of you. Maybe not and he'd like to keep all this moment all to himself, he thought that nobody deserved to see the lewd moment between the both of you. Selfish.

You relished in the way his ass would jiggle the second your pelvis would make contact with it, the way your cock would disappear in and out of him, releasing lewd wet noises and leaving your cock coated with a brand new glossy wet shine everytime.

You also appreciated the little details, too. You loved seeing his white hair bouncing with every thrusts, the way his eyes would slightly cross when your tip would force to his prostate. The light blush coating his cheeks, the drool that would escape through his lips that was currently biting his lip, dripping down to his chin.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. This all felt too fucking good. It was bound to happen. You shot your seed into him, maybe a little too much but was Kourai even complaining? Hell no! It would be unreasonable for him to do so. Your cum felt so warm inside of him, his hole tightening around your shaft like he was trying to milk all cum left in your balls dry-

Click

It sounded like the sound of a camera shutter going on. Whoever that was, they probably acquired a new getting off material.

[layraket]

THERE WAS AN UPDATE SLEEPING? WHATS THAT??

first of all we start with this beautiful shot

god thats some cool architecture i have no words clapping

Wind is so ready to kick that lizard's ass i love him

this confirms the fact that theyre in the same place but in a different era (also i swear im convinced that this place takes place at least no far from Hyrule's era, the statue behind Legend and the corridors inside are almost the same as in Zelda1 and 2)

that was the worst joke i have heard today good job rulie lots of kudos /lh

the boys entering a place where they could find the most dangerous shit in all Hyrule, and then there's my girl who is having the best lunch ever

when i first read this i almost spit all my water on my phone cuz. Wars my man these people are like. crazy with dungeon crawl. you can't say that and expect a normal reaction.

their expressions are gold no notes

TIME'S SIDE EYE LMAO

Sky looking concerned, and Wars with the most "i dont know what is everyones problem but alright" face i love him

In a war there's no time to explore or search for things that can be useful, or even search for clues, less with the fact that youre leading an army. There was no puzzle, no mistery to solve or objects that needed to be obtained, just plain fight and confrontation, not leaving space for investigation or even a good rest in town

They have a point, without exploring they wouldn't have the arsenal that they carry; powerful items that can kill a whole army of monsters, a gift left by the hero before them to help, shinies. All that is really useful when you want to save the whole kingdom

lets not forget all the weapons that you can get on HW, there are some that are like, crazy powerful, and the materials get from the enemies are also really helpful

guys i think youre the only crazy people who love to enter a random place full of monsters and maybe a demon lord or smth

OK THIS IS THE PANNEL WHERE I WANTED TO TALK A LITTLE ABT

This reminds me of this short comic where Wild was almost grabbed by a wallmaster, do this takes place some time before this scene?? or just from another time?? I find possible the first option cuz Wild looks more wary the whole update, like if he already found out what will happends if he puts his guard down

Also the fact that the closest thing that he had as a dungeon were the Divine Beast and the shrines, which both of them lacked a lot of things that were usually in the clasic zelda's dungeons, like keys, mini bosses, special object and pots.

Hyrule my guy you dont. have to scare him like that. i hate these things too but calm down.

fucking gremlin /pos

taking this as an opportunity to talk about how Legend's behaviour has been seen changed in the past updates, he's more relaxed and playful, taking a moment to just have fun and prank the rest of the chain

this reminds me

here is left clear that he's still young, maybe not even on his twenties, and now after that stressfull time with Twi being on the verge of death it makes sense that he feels the need of just, goof around to cope after all that

Yes he's the most experienced, yes is maybe the most powerful of them, but he's still a young boy who was dragged to all this, he deserves to have some fun

happy guy :)

and then we have Time, he looks like Not Having A Good Time™

Messy hair Warriors <3

also i know we all put Sky as one of the adults, but cmon he's a little shit as much as the rest, thats why he finds funny Legend's joke

Wild my man you good? like im genuinely asking at this point, it is weird seeing him so serious

god thats such a cool design of a skulltula, its so scary 10/10

Wild has never seen in his life a spider of this size, so it makes sense him just, straight up getting surprised by that thing

OUGHH I FELT THAT

Sky being right-handed looks like a problem in this closed space, soon or later it would make some troubles

Legend no offence but did you see the little accident they had right there. like. that really hurts if you ask me.

Okay Time is really at his limit here, the past days has been hell for him with the stress of almost loosing the one that he might see as his son, and seeing all the boys just playing around is not helping. Theyre all heroes, they should take this danger seriously if they want to stop all danger.

He wants to protect the ones that he cares for, even if he has to snap for it.

Here he might be planning to team up with Twi and Wind? The youngest seems to have gained his attention as his second successor. He will make anything it takes to not let all of them get hurt, and with everything he means it

Just wait when he learns that Legend is also his successor, automatically adopted

NOW MY FAV PARTS WITHOUT COMMENTARY!!!

SOMEHOW I GOT THE IMAGE LIMIT???? I DIDNT THOUGHT THAT IT WAS POSSIBLE ON WEB

anyways have confused warriors as the last one pls aprecciate him

tumblr pls let me eat the art i beg you

art credits as always towards @linkeduniverse! always feeling blessed with all this fantastic work!