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#(because brother that is all that i put them through in this au)
wixenburr · 3 days
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Saw some ppl talking about Reverse Robins and i had thoughts
Talking abt u guys @eldritchdreamss @brucewaynehater101
Why kill Tim when you could kill baby Jason? What I want is for all of them to keep their own backstories and personalities (Developed in line with the story of course) So ofc i had to write a 1,000 word brainrot abt it.
(Also i'll only be going over the main 4 batbros for now i will add more later but these guys are the ones im most passionate about so here we go)
Damian
Let Damian come in, desperate to be of use and be worthy of his father, only for a softer, less jaded bruce (since jason hasnt died yet) to help him open up his heart and let him act as a kid. With no competition for so long, I imagine he and Bruce get along very well while he works with him. Yeah, they need to work on the no killing deal and Damian's... i guess impulse control? But i think it would be easier with very intensely focused reparenting; no distractions of other kids you know? No favoring or anything.
I see Damian growing up as a stoic, jaded adult. He's had a rough life. Maybe he sticks with the vigilante business. but I really love headcanons where he gets out of it, and focuses on something calmer, like his art. (I do appreciate and love the veterinarian Damian AUs, but im going for FULL calmness, you know? And doctor/vet work is Not calm lol)
So yeah, maybe he grows a real passion for heroism, maybe he doesn't? Maybe he goes on to be an artist and that's just what he does. Bro is ready to settle down as a scarred, veteran trophy husband and i adore him for that.
(Sorry lol i just love Damian and i love the idea of him growing out of both of his parent's legacies. Let him live his own life!!! He fights so so hard for at least 15 years. ALL 15 years of his life. He deserves to have some peace.)
Tim
Tim i think would need a much different story to join the Batfam. He still starts out as a stalker who follows batman and. . . . . . . Redimar (meaning Redemption iykyk (I just spend 17min researching names rip)) at night, takes photos, etc... Since Damian doesn't die, maybe he finds Tim? and like, tim is like 11 and Damian is 17 or 18. He's started going out as Redimar less and less, not that B really minds? In fact hes probably happy for his son so...
But then Damian finds Tim, and now he has to keep going out because he can't let this kid get himself killed like this. He would hold himself accountable since hes the only reason Tim keeps going out so much- also i imagine Tim follows Redimar more than Batman.
Cue a classic Tim Joining The Batfam plotline. They get to know each other better, get a grasp on Tim's situation, Damian finally introduces Tim to Bruce... (Probably something like Dami: "Father, this is my new brother. Timothy, say hello to Father," Tim: "Hello, Father," Dami: "Perfect." Bruce: "*falls off the batchair*)
Anyway, so, Tim ends up kinda just merging with the Waynes. They start training him, its all good and nice, and Tim makes his own little hero team unlike Damian, which is actually pretty interesting here; its Tim who made the first young hero team. Damian only ever had Jon (Superboy 1 in this!!) and he finds Young Just Us and becomes a great leader and its all fine and dandy.
Tim and Damian get along well. Damian is the sage older brother whos kinda distant, but only because he has such high emotional walls (but secretly a softy). He is very much like Bruce- nope, nevermind, hes definitely worse than Bruce in this AU, since Bruce is depicted as being much more agreeable before Jason's death, you know? So yeah, Damian is the emotionally constipated bitch in the fam and we love him for that. But hey!! Tim does manage to get through his walls! And Bruce does sometimes too!! (Tho i imagine Bruce and Damian's relationship to be very.. idk let me try to expalain. Dami: "Father." Bruce: "Son :)" Dami: "Tt." Bruce: *nods* "Hrn." Dami: "Hmph." Bruce: "Hm.") DO U PICK UP WHAT IM PUTTING DOWN--- lmfao. They hardly need words.
Tim ends up growing up very very capable. Once his parents die, he gets a little jaded, but hes still Tim. He and Damian become kind of an... ice prince duo? If you get what I mean. But Tim is the one whos actually the ice prince, Damian is secretly a HUGE softie. He is Delicate and Tim protects him lmfao.
Jason
Jason comes along like he does in canon. Has the same backstory. Tries to steal the Batmobile's wheels. Tim is sleeping over at Damian's flat for the night, so its just Bruce. They bond. Shit happens. Jason joins the fam.
I don't imagine them not getting along, but they don't immediately hit it off either. Jason is wary of all of them for a time, but he ends up warming up to Damian pretty fast after realizing what a softie he is. He pokes fun at Damian and Damian just freaking takes it lmao. Hes an adult he cannot be disturbed. Bro has seen too much and he finds Jason adorable. (Dami: "You were never this cute, Timothy." <- he is lying. Tim: *offended* "What the fu- flip!?" Jason: "Lmao Tim just say fuck." Dami: *deadpan stare* Tim: "JASON NO DONT SAY THE FUCK WORD-") ahem.
anywho and then Jason dies rip skill issue ratio.
The whole batfam is heartbroken. Genuinely shattered. Jason was a light in their lives. Not that they were WITHOUT any light, but Jason was the epitome of a sunshine child.
It's been too long since Damian has killed someone. Bro's god oodles and oodles of trauma. He can't bring himself to kill the Joker.
but Tim can.
It's a whole dramatic thing; Damian feels awful that he made his- now only- little brother kill. Bruce is hella upset but feels responsible for not seeing how badly both of his kids were handling the death of their brother. Tim goes a little off the deep end.
Things turn out.... okay. sort of. but not really. Tim changes his hero name to Red Cardinal. He feels pretty lost. Maybe he stumbles into Ra's al Ghul or smthn idk maybe smthn happens there perhaps. Maybe Damian has to put on Redimar again and rescue him? But its less of a rescue and more of a "Stop joining the dark side Tim jesus christ-" (and it does work).
They go home. Tim gets a boyfriend or two. Damian falls into his art. Bruce is throwing himself into work. They're all kind of a mess, but they keep moving.
and then
Dick
(lmao that sounded wrong)
ahem; and then the circus comes to town. The batfam- well, Tim, Damian, and Bruce- all decide to get together to do something fun. Take the opportunities given, yk? So they go to the circus together.
Wham bam rip the falling Flying Graysons.
They see Dick, breaking apart, and they know they have to do something. Bruce is the first to move. Then Tim. Damian is the last.
It's pretty quick getting Dick home, since Bruce is already a foster parent cuz of Tim yk. So Dick doesn't have to suffer in Juvie at all really. But that doesn't change the fact that he is ANGRY.
Dick is SO angry. he wants to kill the person who murdered his parents. He knows what he saw.
The fam of course do their best to investigate. Mostly Tim, who feels unworthy of being around an innocent little kid after his whole.... villain era, i suppose lol. (ofc Dick thinks Tim doesnt like him lol misunderstanding arc GO)
The whole "Dick accepts that justice is better than murder kinda maybe FOR NOW" storyline happens, and Dick becomes the conniving, bright, little Robin we all know and love. (Thinking of the Young Justice Cartoon Robin (but not the characters- just Dick's character) aaaand
Womp womp GUESS WHOS BACK
Jason's Back
but i'll leave that for later.
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shhh-secret-time · 2 days
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Star Park AU: Kyle Broflovski Edition
-> Moved back to the Valley after graduating and getting his doctorate. (He's essentially where Harvey is in game.)
-> Couldn't find work out i the city so he moved back to the Valley
-> His parents stayed in the city but they allowed Ike to move back with Kyle as long as he agreed to take good care of him.
-> He has files on everyone's medical history and they're organized based on who's the easiest patient to deal with to who he has to literally drag in to his office. It goes: Karen, Wendy and Nichole, Kenny, Craig, Heidi, Tolkien and Scott, Butters, Ike and Jimmy, Tweek, Sharon, Shelly, Bebe, Stan, Clyde, All of the Goths, Randy, and finally Cartman.
-> He makes monthly walks to the Wizard tower to check on the Goths. They've told him before they don't need it because they have magic but he doesn't believe them.
-> Kyle and Wendy work hard to make things easier for Jimmy around town. The mayor fights them over the funding. Wendy has to practically drag Kyle away from fighting the mayor.
-> He's the only person that Scott trusts with his meds, always making sure to pick his medication up.
-> When he's not working he checks in with Heidi over Ike's education, sometimes he sits in and helps out when he can.
Gift Guide:
Loves: Fire Opal, Pomegrantes, Poppy, Starfruit Wine, Artichoke Dip Likes: All Books, Emerald, Coffee, Magma Cap, Tea leaves Neutral: All Fish (Except Shrimp), Beer, All Eggs Dislikes: Radioactive Ore/Bar, Fertilizer, Escargot, Mudstone Hates: Bananas, Banana Pudding, Shrimp, Bug Meat, Roe (Any)
Loved: "A..Are you serious?! Thank you so much!" Liked: "You thought of me? That's very kind, thank you." Neutral: "Thank...you? It's the thought that counts." Dislikes: "Ugh. I don't want your trash." Hates: "Really? What went through your head when giving me this? God...."
Heart Event @ 2:
Kyle is outside with his brother, one of the rare times he's free from working. He's sitting on the bench at the park reading through his medical files. Ike is playing by himself looking a little lonely. Farmer walks up and sees him sadly rocking on the spring rider. Ike tells the Farmer that he misses playing with his brother, it just seems like he never has time for him anymore. Farmer thinks for a moment before walking over to Kyle, who only notices them when they sit down. He greets them with a smile, quickly going back to his reading. >> Do you ever take a break? How can you be on your laptop right now? It's so nice out! (-) >> Ike looks a little sad, doesn't he? (+) If First Option: Kyle gets slightly annoyed, Farmer should know better than anyone here that he can't just stop working. He notes rather dryly he would have thought he'd be free of their lecturing, seeing as he gets enough of it from Stan.
"I appreciate your concern really, but I'm this towns only doctor last time I checked. I happen to like reading outside."
If Second Option: Kyle looks up from his laptop with concern on his face. He frowns when he realizes that he's been ignoring his brother, and how Ike is rocking back and forth with no care. Turning to the Farmer, he expresses gratitude for bringing it to his attention. He feels back for not seeing it himself, he was just hoping to catch up a little on work before he went home. He closes his laptop, putting it to the side, and stands up. Farmer jumps up with them and offers to play with him and his brother!
"Then I hope you're ready for the longest game of hide-n-seek of your life. You didn't have anything planned for the rest of the day right?"
Heart Event @ 4:
Kyle visits the Farmer early in the morning, greeting them while they're walking to the shipping bin. He apologizes for showing up unannounced. He would have called but he didn't think the Farmer would be able to hear the phone from the fields. Farmer doesn't seem to mind which makes him feel better, physically relaxing. Looking past them, he compliments their hard work on turning the fields into an actual farm. Afterwards he goes on to tell them that their crops have made things better even if they don't realize it. Tells them that the fresh food is better for the townsfolk than Jojo's food. >> I don't actually do that much farming. I'm more into fishing or mining. (/) >> Thanks Kyle! It's nice to get a little appreciation! (/) >> I didn't think of it that way...you really think of everything huh? (/) If First Option: Kyle goes quiet, the longer the silence the more his face turns red. Embarrassment dusting his cheeks. Under his breath he says something about the farm at least looking clean.
"At least your farm looks cleaner then Mr. Marsh's. Smells better too."
If Second Option: Kyle chuckles and tells them there's no reason to thank them! He's in the same boat sometimes and that even now he's here's to do his job. He wonders if anyone else has been out this way yet?
"I just realized you haven't had a checkup with me yet. Swing by the clinic okay? I don't want you to get sick."
If Third Option: Farmer turns the table on them, Kyle gets flustered over the small praise. At least he takes it as praise. He scoffs, telling them to stop being so humble. Being a Farmer is hard work and they should realize the good they do.
"Please. Not just anyone can get Cartman to eat a vegetable. You're good at what you do!"
Heart Event @ 5:
Next time Farmer walks into the clinic they walk back into Kyle's office. He's surprised to actually see them, telling them that he is pleased that he didn't have to drag them in. When Farmer looks at him confused, Kyle tells them that sometimes he has to go and "collect" some of the townsfolk for their appointments. So, it's nice that there's someone else so willing to come in. After a moment he gets a little embarrassed that he started rambling again. Farmer is just easy to talk to, they listen. Before they can comment on the blush on his face, he gets down to business. Kyle opens his laptop and looks up at them, he begins to ask Farmer about themselves, wanting an insight on their medical history.
"Sorry, you didn't come here to listen to me complain. It's just easy to talk to you. A-anyway, before I keep making an ass of myself, lets get started on filling out your medical history!"
Heart Event @ 6:
Farmer is walking from town to the mountains, they can hear faint shouting. Walking closer, they see Kyle and Ike standing next to the mountain lake away from Kenny's house. Ike is sitting on the wooden bridge with his face in his hands, looking more and more upset. When Farmer gets close enough to hear what they're saying clearly, they overhear what the argument is about. Kyle is upset that Ike's grades are slipping, telling him that he needs to put in a little more effort in school. Apparently, he's been blowing off his homework and Heidi is having a hard time getting him to pay attention in class. Ike complains that all Kyle ever talks to him about is how he's doing in school and his stupid job, that he doesn't care to ask Ike about anything else. He asks him when was the last time they did anything fun that didn't require the Farmer having to all but pull him away from work. Ike cuts Kyle off before he can rebuttal. Shouting something about how he's acting just like their mother and he's supposed to be his brother, not his parent! Kyle gets upset and snaps back at him, telling him that he won't apologize for caring about Ike's well being and he wouldn't have to act like their mother if Ike just grew up a little. This makes Ike tear up, he stands up and shouts that he should just go back to the city then. Kyle stands there watching his brother storm off, leaving him alone next to the lake, he looks destroyed. Farmer walks out from where they were hiding, and when Kyle doesn't get upset that Farmer was listening in they know he's really torn up. It takes him some time but he eventually address them, telling them that he never meant to fill the role of a parent. He knows he's hard on Ike, he just wants to see his little brother grow into the best version of himself. The Valley is good to him, better then the city was. He knows it's good for Ike too.
"Am I being that overbearing? I mean...I'm in charge of him. I promised Ma that I'd look after him! I'm not asking for much right? Just for him to apply himself more!"
>> Maybe you're not as right as you think you are. (-) >> Does he know that? Have you told him how you feel? (+) >> I don't think you're really listening to your brother. (+) >> Lighten up Kyle, he's just throwing a tantrum. He'll get over it. (-) If First Option: Kyle looks up with a flash of anger in his eyes, he can't believe what he's hearing. How could Farmer say something like that? He thought they were friends! As Kyle storms off he glares at them.
"Jesus Christ, if you talk to your friends like this then I'd hate to hear how you talk to people you hate!"
If Second Option: Kyle thinks on both Farmer and Ike's words. Like he's replaying the whole thing in his head again. When was the last time he talked to Ike about how he feels? About anything that wasn't him being a hard ass.
"No...I guess I haven't. Ugh I'm an asshole, he deserves to be a kid. I really do sound like our mom. Thanks for listening again Farmer."
If Third Option: Kyle's brows furrow, he wants to be upset but Farmer's right. He makes his frustration known and somehow in the same breath is grateful that Farmer said it. He tells Farmer that this isn't the first time their stubborn attitudes have clashed. Something they both get from their Mother.
"I think if you were anyone else I would be furious but...you're right. It does make me feel a little better to know I'm not the only one who's stubborn. I'll apologize to him in the morning. Goodnight and thank you Farmer."
If Fourth Option: Kyle snaps as that comment strikes a nerve. He goes to yell again but he just stops, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. When he opens his eyes he looks past them and wishes them a good night. Leaving them alone because just the thought of responding to that is exhausting.
Heart Event @ 8:
It's late, later than Farmer realized. As they go to leave the mines, a group of Shadow beasts corner them. It cuts to them limping out of the mines. Beaten down and exhausted, they collapse against the side of the mountain. The last thing they see is Kyle running over to them and the dim light of a flashlight. When they wake up again, they're laying in one of the beds of Kyle's clinic. Their wounds are bandaged and cleaned. Looking over in a daze, Kyle's eyes meet theirs and there's a look of relief. He closes the first aid kid sitting next to them, picks up the medical tools and puts them away. Farmer can hear him breathing deeply, like this is the first time he's able to. Eventually he breaks the silence, speaking as softly as he can. He scolds them for being reckless, and that they're lucky that Ned was nearby to hear that fight. Kyle stops in the middle of his lecture, catching himself doing it again. Lectures are the last thing Farmer needs right now, they need sleep. Farmer just smiles and shakes their head at him and it almost makes Kyle laugh. He can't believe the energy they have, how they're even awake right now. He promises to keep them company, that he'll be right here for them when they wake up. Time passes again as Farmer drifts back to sleep, when they wake up again they see Kyle asleep in the chair next to them.
"Do you have any idea how worried I was?! Seeing you bleeding out in the dirt like that! I know you can be more responsible then that, what were you-.... no I'm doing it again. I'm sorry. Look just get some sleep, you need to rest." - "What? I'm not going anywhere, someone has to look over you and make sure you actually get rest. I swear I'll turn my back and you'll try and get out of that bed."
When given the bouquet:
"!! Y-You're not fucking with me right? This isn't just some cruel prank? ...Then of course I will- be your partner that is!"
Heart Event @ 10:
Farmer walks outside of their house to Kyle sitting on their porch. A picnic basket sitting next to him, a bottle of wine sticking out of the basket, and a red-checkered blanket tucked neatly inside. When he hears the doo open he perks up and stands up quickly. With a grin on his face, he greets them with an energetic good morning. He holds up the basket telling them that he wants to take them out. The day is beautiful and he intends to spend as much of it with them. Farmer agrees, leaving the farm going south past Tegridy Farms. Kyle takes them near the cliffs overlooking the ocean. The two sit there enjoying the picnic that Kyle's put together. When he sees how happy Farmer is with the food, he goes on to tell them that he learned how to cook from his Mother. The conversation leads him to ramble about how he was the only one who could cook in the friend group for a while. That Stan used to beg him to make dinner so he didn't have to eat with his family. Farmer continues to just look happy with everything. Good food and getting to listen to him talk about his best friend, watching as he lights up! Then they feel a rain drop hit their forehead. Looking up, the two se as the sky starts to darken and rain clouds begin to roll in. Immediately Kyle throws his jacket over the Farmer and urgently moves them towards the trees. As the rain starts to come down harder, Kyle looks so disappointed. Farmer takes their hand giving it a little squeeze, breaking down that wall of anxiety. He lets out a sigh, expressing his frustration. He tells them that he wanted today to be perfect, now it's ruined because of the rain. Farmer laughs and pulls them down, planting a kiss on their cheek. Kyle's face turns red from the sweet action. He goes to kiss them back, to return the kiss, but as he does water drops down from the top of the trees. They're both soaked now, water clinging to their clothes. Kyle looks down and just laughs. He wraps an arm around them and pulls them in for a kiss. Pulling away, he brushes his fingers across their face and whispers.
"You always find a way to make things better. I don't feel like I have to be perfect all the time, that it's okay to mess up because I know you'll still love me. My worries just seem to melt away. I love you so much."
Heart Event @ 14:
Ever since Kyle moved in he's slowed down, taking better care of himself. No longer piling too much on his plate, so it surprises the Farmer to se him falling back into old habits. Kyle is pacing around the house in a huff. Ike tells the Farmer that their parents called and that they're making a surprise visit soon. Kyle stops his frantic cleaning for just a moment to stress how much he hates this. He's worried that they're going to be mad because he didn't invite them to the wedding, even when they already reassured him that they're not. Farmer questions why they're coming, which Kyle just sighs and tells them that they want to meet his partner. Farmer reassures Kyle that everything will be fine, that they can't wait to meet his parents. He just grumbles and tells them to hold off on that excitement. Once again Farmer calms the man down, Kyle takes a deep breath and watches his beloved partner get to work. Between the two of them and Ike, they're able to get everything together. Just as dinner is finished, Kyle's parents arrive. Kyle introduces the Farmer to his parents who immediately start gushing over them. The dinner table is set and soon the entire family is sitting around the, making small talk. Sheila starts asking Farmer a list of questions, trying to get to know them. Why did they become a Farmer? What drew them to the Valley? >> Honestly? I needed to start over. Grandpa gave me a second chance and I guess I just fell in love with this little town. >> The city life was too loud. I needed something quiet and easy. >> The Valley needed help! I couldn't just ignore it! If First Option: Sheila smiles and puts her hand on her chest. She tells the Farmer that it's incredibly sweet of their grandfather to look after them. She thinks it's great that they love the town that Kyle grew up in! If Second Option: Sheila doesn't agree that the city is that bad, but she goes on to tell the Farmer she grew up a city girl. She does agree that city life can sweep you away if you're not careful, she's glad the Farmer taught Kyle to slow down. If Third Option: Sheila isn't quite sure she understands what Farmer is trying to get at, but if it's what drives them then who is she to argue? She's just happy that Ike's grades have improved and that Kyle is happy. Either way dinner is lively, once they're finished they thank the Farmer for everything. For taking care of their sons and welcoming them into their lovely home. Sheila admits that she was skeptical at first but after seeing how Kyle looks at the Farmer, she's wholeheartedly approves of their marriage. They leave with a quick hug, letting Kyle know that they'll be staying at the tavern for a few days before going home. As they make the trip back to town, Kyle wraps his arm around the Farmer and smiles softly.
"They really like you, not that I had any doubts they wouldn't. You're amazing. I always knew you were, ever since you moved to this town. I'm just glad they love you almost as much as I do."
Random Marriage Quotes!!
"Good morning my love. Yeah... that still feels weird to say but...I kind of like it. Waking up next to you is everything." "Please make sure you're being careful when you go out. I'm not going to stop you, just come home to me. Please." "Look I love you, but please if you have to go to the mines...shower before you come to bed. Shower with you? That-...isn't a bad idea." "Read up on how to take care of crops on my lunch break! I hope you don't mind that I already watered the plants for you!" "Ike really likes all the animals, he actually woke up before to feed them all!" "Do...do you think my hair is stupid? Cartman said something about it today and I know I shouldn't put merit in what he says but...You like my hair? And my nose? But I didn't- God you're too good to me." "I always had this fear of getting married, I was afraid that I'd end up like my parents. They're not bad just...never mind. Just thank you for being my partner." "Hey, take this medicine with you. If you get into trouble it will help. I don't care if it tastes bad! I don't want to find you passed out again!" "I'm taking Ike over to Kenny's today, he wants to hang out with Karen. Feel free to swing by when you're done doing what you need to do! The guys would love to see you." "You know I love you right? And I'll tell you it as many times as you need. You make it so easy to love you that I'm worried I'm not enough."
Tag List: @hunnysnoops
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Note
What if the reader acts like Nicole from Class 09? Like all the things that happened to her but g/n?
Okay, I got that idea after I start thinking over that request. I slightly changed it. I hope, you are okay with that, and I apologize in advance.
Masks we were forced to wear
Sort of! Self-Aware! Yosano Akiko x GN! Traumatized! Reader
Description: Your past still haunts you. You just want to escape.
Warning: English is my second language. AU - World of Tech-magical Progress. Film Industry Abuse (Reader are forced to be filmed, forced to act like Nicole) Mentions of heavy topics (drugs, shooting). Open finale.
You couldn't move. Medical restraints were keeping you in one place. Your body was shaking, you were sweating.
Wet cloth were put on your forehead. Through pain and foggy gaze, you see Yosano.
Doctor had bags under her eyes. She whispered.
"Don't worry, [Y/N], we will go through it together."
You breathe through your nostrils. It has only been two days, since your treatment started, and you already wanted to quit it. But, you knew, that they won't let you go back.
Because they cared. For some reason, they cared about someone, like you.
__________
This world was full of magic, technology and progress. Every aspect of everyday life and tied with hundreds of magitek gadgets.
Teleports, machines that make food out of water, holographic screens...
And Restarter... The "Holy Grail" of Entertainment Industry.
Years of research. Years of building. Years of magic power flowing into the mechanism.
And it was done.
Mechanism, that will scan a person, save information, and, after said person would put into Restarter's cabin, revert them to the state, described in saved information.
What kind of sick bastard thought, that this thing should be used to make films more realistic, instead of putting it into hospitals?
It all started small.
Real bruises and scratches, instead of makeup. Real tattoos.
It was only a matter of time, before they will go further.
__________
That TV Series supposed to be progressive. To show, how terrible schools can be. How terrible teachers can be. How terrible students can be.
And you were a mane star.
You had some similarities with the main caracter. Your families had a similar past, your older brother was a lazy man, who couldn't care less about anyone, besides himself, and you, while not as bad as the main, character, you could be a jerk sometimes.
Everything changed, when filming started.
Countless failed scenes. Days, spend in a studio.
Being chocked, shot, drugged...
And every day was ended in a cramped cabin of Restarter.
It could reverse your body injuries.
It could never reverse your mind.
___________
You hated everyone.
Your fellow actors, director, producer, operator, your mother, your brother, your father, fans of the series.
You hated, that you can't quit, that you were forced to go through borderline torture in studio, that you were forced to acts a sociopath before fans.
Because that's what people want to see. Because Restarter will undo the damage. Because you have no reason to complain, shut up, and bring your mother another paycheck...
You stopped care. If you had some sympathy in you, it was buried deep inside you by years of "industrial abuse".
You were forced to wear a mask. And, after all this year's, remains of it still clung to your face.
When you finally became eighteen, you took last paycheck, broke the contract and left the country.
__________
You avoid talking to people as much as you can.
You stopped watching anything, that have real-life actors. You stuck to animation and drawings.
The world was full of sick people. And you were the sickest among them.
__________
When BSD Cast appeared before you, you thought, that time, you get some strong painkillers. However, no hallucination can be warm and try to take away the bottle of pills from your hands.
Yosano can be surprisingly strong.
_________
Your head hurts. You just got a bunch of information dumped on you. You spoke up.
"You... You are mistaken... I am not a hero... I am not a good person... I... can't care about real people, including myself.... I... still care about you all.... But... I could stop..."
You looked up at them.
"You heard me ranting about my past, right? You knew what you will deal with... I can give you money, I still get royalties. But, please... Leave. Don't sink with me."
Everyone was quiet. Then Naomi spoke.
"Tea. You promised Kirako and I drink tea together. Are you... care about us enough to fulfill this one promise?"
You wanted to snarl at her, but get over it. You were hungry. You can keep yourself and have one tea party.
You slowly nodded and stand up.
"Fine. I will bring the cattle..."
You turn on your heels.
You made step forward kitchen.
Something sharp pricked your neck.
And world became black.
____________
🐾 And long month of treatment started. Yosano explained, that they can't just leave you in that state. They will cure you, made few visits to your “colleges”. And, after justice is served and you are healthy, they will leave.
🐾 For months, you were under constant watch. For months, you were getting news about your family, director, actors and everyone, who were involved, being exposed for various crimes.
Restarters were banned.
What you needed all this years ago finally happened.
And BSD Cast always were near.
Taking care of you, getting psychological help to you.
Trying to bring [Y/N], the real person back from the stink mess, called [Y/N], The Lead Actor, playing the role 24/7.
You finally felt emotions again.
_________
You opened your mouth, letting Naomi feed you another spoon of porridge. Yosano was checking the results of the blood test.
"Your test is showing better results, then the test from last week. It is good. Soon, you will be healthy."
You opened your mouth. Before Naomi could feed you again, you spoke.
"Just... Just leave me... Find a better person to stay with..."
Your voice was soft again. But, you knew, that you couldn't truly become how you were, before the filming.
Yosano raised an eyebrow.
"Do you really want it? Or did you change your mind?"
You didn't answer.
_______
It was over.
You got justice. Your health became better.
You were standing before BSD Cast, like a year and a half ago.
And you finally have an answer about the future.
Stay... Or leave....
You opened your mouth.
And tell them about your decision
_________
A/N: Reader's choice is up to you. Did they stay? Or did they leave?
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fanofthelamb · 2 days
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So I went dumpster diving in my tablet for the first lamb I ever drew and WOW... I found a lot of sketches I really don't plan on revisiting. I am jsut gonna dump them below the cut for people to see!! Some of it is lore related, some of it is shit I ABSOLUTELY FUCKING HATE, but IDC!!! I will post it anyway for the tumblr users who I keep an eye on my notifs for. (yes, i see you guys. even if i dont always interact I see you and love you guys)
Anyway, here is the earliest drawin I have of me drawing the lamb!! I am going to write a comment under a lot of these to add context to them.
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A cute little baby <3333 but I struggled a LOT of figuring out what the lamb was wearing, I eventually figured it out though. (I hope)
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if you know, you know. (RIP VAL)
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for my BTG AU. I decided I no longer wanted chemach to make the [spoiler] for the lamb, though, so I scrapped this
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vaaaal,,,,,, i was still learning how to draw him, i wish i put pants on him but do those even exist in COTL? (yes)
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I haven't been able to do much with them because I'm putting other stuff first, but Brear has two kids, Notre and Brejul who Narinder absolutely ADORES. he is the one who babysits.
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fun fact but the lamb being touch repulsed is a projection LOL. i hate it when people touch me it feels so tickly and makes me want to bite their faces off. (but i am touch starved and i LOVE to show affection to other ppl, esp thru back rubs)
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yes, they have a hoop for personal space. no, ill never use it.
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drum corcl,,,, i love the little dancing guy that comes from the drums
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more narinder and brear. they're not romantically interested in each other, but he is absolutely head over heels for brear, their brother, and the kids. they even call him dad sometimes.
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[no context]
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kallamar and leshy before their crowns. the scene i have related to this isn't happening anymore, but it was leshy begging to be taught to swim.
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another "the one who baby sits" doodle. the bishops all came into the cult with a very good repuation thanks to narinder. he likes to tell the kids of the cult stories about how amazing his siblings were. at first, it was just to nobre and brejul with stories about leshy(he missed leshy a lot even though he was still mad at him, and the two reminded narinder of his time with leshy), but then it escalated into him hosting storytimes with larger groups after they started repeating some of the stories he'd tell them.
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unfinsihed stuff about with the lamb and thier mom. their mom wasn't afraid of the bishops at all, but knew that they were a still a threat to her and her child's life. the lamb did NOT care for anyone thier mom didn't approve of/enthusiastically liked. they were much more afraid of the bishops than their mother.
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i do not actually know if i posted this.i dont think so, but i giggle every time i scroll past it
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brear and nobre <333
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im still workong on BTG shit, and i post a little bit of the characters on here even tho the comics are going to be posted elsewhere. they have a "crownlike" beak, but a body part. there's different creatures who became gods through different ways; crowns are one way but their power is stuck with the crown and they are considered extremely weak compared to other gods. i wont blabber on about it tho.
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so many sketches has random lines through em because i work with a tablet,,, i hate it. anyway, narinder and kallamar everybody!
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sketches i made but didn't bother to finish of me and merbre,,,,,,,,, my husband #1 <3 them w/ narinder + merbre arent gonna be considered "canon" but damn it ill self-ship with them until i get a follower i can WORK with
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i come back to this every few weeks and im never happy with it, i dont know if ill finish this but i think about them........ before the divorce </3
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unused from an ask
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heartstealer. menace. you can rip my heart out anytime, leshy <3
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dreshy. he LOVES dresses and being pretty and cute and pretty. he sucks narinder into a lot and heket will sometimes join in if he demands asks her to <3
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another unused drawing from an ask i'll eventually answer. (mildly offended at being called a mutton cube.)
.... aaand WOW! I think that's everything guys!! things are still kinda wild but they're calming down a little bit. idk how much longer it's gonna last like this but I have some energy so I made a way-too-long post showing off art I wasn't supposed to post! Awesome. :D
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nympippi · 1 year
Note
new 2 tumblr so idk if im in the right place for requests and u dont actually have 2 draw this JSHDHS buuuuut
in my head griffin n vance r like half brothers or something. whenever vance hangs out with bruce (cuz they r also friends in my head) griffin will tag along sometimes, bruce likes to take photos with a polaroid camera n one of his fav photos is one where:
- vance is glaring at the camera with a middle finger because he didnt want his picture taken (he’d never admit that he actually likes this picture)
- bruce has his charming, radiant smile like always
- griffins in the middle of both of them pulling a silly face, sticking his tongue out or something like :P
whoops this is long but . idk theyre just all friends to me HSHDHSH
Firstly! Hi welcome to tumblr and thank you for sending this headcannon!! :D
And now secondly, while I don’t exactly headcannon Griffin and Vance to be half-brothers I find the visual image of Griffin hanging around his big brothers friends and feeling so cool to be really cute! And plus, Bruce is an absolute sweet heart and just a great friend to Vance so Griffin automatically adores him. <333<333
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scattered-winter · 8 months
Text
tw for injury + aftermath of torture etc
The room was empty save for a figure slumped against the far wall, arms stretched above his head and chained to the wall.
Shiro's heart lurched in his chest.
He didn't remember running across the cold stone floor, or dropping his shield to the ground midstride, or Keith's white, terrified face as he ran beside him.
The next thing Shiro knew, he was standing in front of Adam, breath stuttering as he got his first real look at what Zarkon had done to him.
He was slumped bonelessly in his chains, chin against his chest and eyes screwed shut. Nearly every visible inch of his body was bloodied or bruised, and one of his arms was bent at a sickening angle. His clothes were charred and tattered, and Shiro realized with a horrible, sinking feeling in his gut that there was a Grimm infection, too; raw, blackened skin surrounding deep lacerations in his torso and stomach like something had clawed him. Wisps of black smoke curled from the wounds, and the scent of decay was nearly overwhelming.
The infection was worse than anything he'd ever seen. Tendrils of black snaked down Adam's arms, curled up the sides of his neck.
It looked like Zarkon had let his Grimm use Adam as a chew toy.
Pushing away his horror, Shiro raised his hands to gently cup Adam's cheeks, lifting his head up and cradling his face between his hands.
Adam's eyes were closed, his face nearly white; his cheeks were sunken and hollow, and his eyes were ringed with dark shadows.
"Adam, baby, wake up," Shiro murmured, fighting to keep the tremble from his voice. "Come back to me."
A crease appeared between Adam's brows, a thin moan rising strangled and hoarse from between cracked lips.
Gold eyes cracked open, hazy with pain and exhaustion and gods knew what else.
Relief flooded through Shiro, and he had to hold back a strained laugh. "There you are. Can you hear me?"
The crease between his brows deepened. " 'Kashi?" Adam's voice was rough and cracked like he'd screamed himself hoarse. He probably had. There was something else there, too; pain, exhaustion, hope so raw it was painful.
Then some of the haze cleared from Adam's eyes, a touch of clarity returning. "You---you shouldn't be here," he rasped, expression showing the first signs of panic.
Shiro's thumbs brushed over Adam's cheekbones. "It's okay. We're getting out of here. All of us."
He half-expected Adam to argue, but he just leaned into Shiro's touch, eyes sliding closed as a choked, strangled sob rattled his chains.
Shiro's thumbs moved in comforting circles over Adam's cheeks; he met Keith's wide, horrified eyes over Adam's shoulder. "Let's get him down."
Keith's blade easily slashed through the chains, and Adam dropped into Shiro’s arms like a rag doll. He whined as he slumped into Shiro's arms, face going impossibly whiter as his injuries were jostled, and Shiro cursed himself.
"Sorry, sorry," he murmured, wrapping a supporting arm around Adam's waist as he shuddered against Shiro's body.
Keith looked stricken; he stepped away, holding his katar out to bear. "I'll lead the way out."
Shiro nodded and carefully slid an arm beneath Adam's knees to lift him into his arms. Adam's arm looped over Shiro's shoulders, his head dropping to loll against Shiro's chest. His breathing was ragged and shallow, rattling in his chest like something inside him was broken.
He didn't have much time. They had to move.
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astonmartinii · 9 months
Note
insta au req about reader and charles being best friends and a rift comes between them because of his girlfriend(or whoever!!) and reader and max finally get together and she shades ferrari and charles purrrrr (if not i totally get it queen love u loads)
into the arms of another | max verstappen social media au
pairing: max verstappen x reader
after charles leaves her out in the cold, y/n falls into the arms of another.
part two part three
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, arthurleclerc and 506,823 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: dumb and dumber: vacation edition
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user1: they're really just the definition of no thoughts behind the eyes
user2: it's crazy cause we all know you have to be smart to drive an f1 car and she has a literal degree in architecture but they are always in the most insane situations ever
charles_leclerc: that's my private jet don't call me dumb
yourusername: *rented, dumbass
liked by maxverstappen1
user3: they're friendship goals like perfect example of platonic soulmates and male and female friendship
arthurleclerc: so like what does a man need to do for a feature on your instagram?
yourusername: soz arth, step ur aesthetic up x
user4: oh to be besties with an f1 driver
user5: wait so like all the leclercs and their gfs went on this holiday, right?
user6: yeah arthur’s and lorenzo’s gfs have posted about being there
user5: so it’s kinda muggy that y/n refused to post the girls?
user6: not really she’s posted with the girls loads i think y’all just want an excuse to be mad at her
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charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and 1,231,907 others
charles_leclerc: summer spent with the best people
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user8: no y/n ....
user9: did yall see that tweet about the girl who met y/n in corsica when charles left her stranded on the beach to walk home on her own
user8: what ???
joristrouche: love you brother
charles_leclerc: best mate
user10: the vibes have shifted, the atmosphere is weird and the absence of y/n is the centre of it
user11: i fear i've seen this film before and y/n is defo getting iced out because charles in back in a relationship
user12: noooooo i thought he'd matured past that after the last time he fucked y/n off for a girlfriend
user13: babes please stop expecting so much from men
liked by yourusername
pierregasly: you look sunburnt calmar, did you leave it at home cause y/n isn't there to remind you?
charles_leclerc: she's here and i have been putting it on the sun just has it out for me
yourusername: i tried pierre, believe me
user14: well this is fucking awkward
user15: charles is not beating the allegations of forgetting about y/n while in a relationship LOL
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maxverstappen1
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liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 1,034,667 others
maxverstappen1: simply lovely to win my home race again. the orange army never disappoint and i'm so thankful for all the support here this weekend
view all comments
user20: call me a conspiracy theorist BUT he thanked the orange army and the support separately i.e. Y/N Y/LN
user21: now you bitches usually jump to conclusions, but i'm hearing you this time
martingarrix: next set just gonna be super max on a two hour loop
maxverstappen1: i'll be there
user22: i'm sorry i'm new here why is y/n being in max's garage such a big deal? who is she? (gen.)
user23: y/n is charles' best friend, they've known each other since childhood and she's supported him through all levels of karting and single-seaters. though they haven't interacted too much in the public eye, max and y/n have known each other for as long as charles and max have. charles is a bit notorious for dumping y/n to the side for his girlfirend any time he's in a relationship and being inseparable once he's single again. after he ALLEGEDLY ditched her at a beach in corsica over the summer, y/n hasn't been seen with him or interacting with him online and was then in max's garage.
user24: maybe i'm messy but i genuinely want max and y/n to be together
yourusername: the red bull catering was defo worth breaking the cost cap
maxverstappen1: you're welcome any time
user25: can someone please check charles' pulse
landonorris: he looked like a cartoon with steam coming out of his ears earlier
user26: LANDO WHAT?
user27: tbf i think that's just a general side effect of driving the ferrari
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 542,987 others
yourusername: hard ball or soft serve
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user28: in my professional shadow identification opinion, i have deduced that it is in fact max verstappen
user29: ur so delusional (i believe you)
charles_leclerc: so that's who you've been getting our vanilla and chocolate cones with
yourusername: i'm not entertaining this argument over the internet charles you know where i live
liked by maxverstappen1
user30: she's so much better than me i'd rip him a new asshole right here right now
arthurleclerc: please come to dinner on sunday, carla can't come and i don't wanna fifth wheel plsssssss y/n
yourusername: sorry chickie i've already got plans but give mama my love
arthurleclerc: noooooo what could be better than mama's sunday lunch
yourusername: i promise i love those dinners but i've had enough experience seventh wheeling you guys and would love time with someone who loves me for me
liked by maxverstappen1
user31: yall i feel like i'm in the family group chat in this comment section this feels illegal to see
user32: max is so sly with the comments he's liking but that's MY petty king
f1
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liked by yourusername, alexalbon and 1,304,783 others
tagged: maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc
f1: oops. charles leclerc takes championship leader max verstappen and himself out of the race at the first corner. the two did not mince their words, verstappen saying: "i tried to stay out of trouble but trouble came to me"
view all comments
user33: the way i RAN to twitter
user34: i'm not a verstappen fan but that quote goes so hard
user35: i'm all for leaving the drivers' personal lives alone but lord the tea is piping and sky cutting to y/n in max's garage? OOP
user36: no cause someone at sky has been watchign too much drive to survive because putting "charles' childhood friend" on her name banner as she's in max's garage was pure cinema
user37: charles be chatting mad shit for the man at fault
user38: leclerc drove into verstappen and perez and thought he'd manage to get out of the blame again LOL he's such a joker
user39: i think it's a good thing that y/n is skipping that dinner
user40: the way charles' gf wasn't even there this weekend and he was clearly looking for y/n in the garage
user41: the drama is too much for me to keep up with
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 603,487 others
yourusername: only 16 years in the making but we finally got a clue
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user42: i'm going into cardiac arrest
maxverstappen1: finally now i can comment freely about my unbelievably sexy, smart and hilarious girlfriend who i love and defo haven't pined over for ten years
yourusername: awwwww maxy, if it makes you feel better i've liked you for that long as well
user43: hmmmm idk this all seems a bit fake
yourusername: babes i still fancied him when he was a lanky, spotty teenager
arthurleclerc: i can confirm this
user44: the way y/n was always so nice and constantly hyping charles and his gf in their comments ... where's charles
user45: tbf she is dating his rival
user44: oh please we all know they never hated each other and have been good friends for years, charles is just being petty
danielricciardo: never thought i'd see the day when max would grow some balls and finally ask you out
yourusername: i thought you were meant to be some great wing man, i didn't see you helping
danielricciardo: i didn't want to get ran over by charles, no thank you
user46: i'm so sad i want bestie charles and y/n back
maxverstappen1
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liked by yourusername, martingarrix and 1,409,875 others
maxverstappen1: some girls might want to ride a ferrari but mine wants to ride a red bull
view all comments
user47: THE CAPTION? THIS MAN IS SO UNHINGED
user48: mad max returns and in the form of shady instagram captions
yourusername: but you didn't even let me drive :(
maxverstappen1: babe i love you but you don't have a license and that's a very expensive car
user49: wait don't make me depressed didn't charles say in an interview ages ago that he was going to teach y/n to drive? did this never happen?
yourusername: sorry to ruin your day but i'm still illegal on the road
landonorris: so no photo credits? i watched you guys kiss for so long to get that shot
yourusername: i didn't hear you complaining on the day
maxverstappen1: let him be lonely in peace
landonorris: that's really not the save you think it is but thanks mate
user50: i am so happy that y/n is happy but the way charles can't be happy for her relationship like she always is for me is so sad to me
user51: i get that the charles and y/n situ is sad but she's clearly happy with max leave them be
fin.
note: hope you enjoyed my love, i hope this was kinda what you were envisioning, i'm happy with it but would be up for a part two if people want it lol xx
6K notes · View notes
mingigoo · 4 months
Text
chocolate || Choi San (m.)
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❆ pairing ⇢ (fem) reader x brother’s best friend! Choi San
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❆ summary ⇢ you never got along with your brother’s best friend San, but you really never needed to. His pretty face and cocky attitude pissed you right off. But when he shows up on New Year’s Eve when you’re home alone, and a snowstorm forces you to stay together for the time being, you can’t help yourself from his enchanting charms—and sexy ass body.
❆ genre/au ⇢ smut, forced proximity, brothers best friend au, snowed in au
❆ warnings/tags ⇢ 18+ MINORS DNI, fingering, shower sex, oral sex (male receiving), slightly rough but really not too much, creampie, unprotected sex, the power goes out and they want to fuck each ther so bad I’m sorry
❆ word count ⇢ 5.2k
❆ taglist ⇢  @atinywhore @ch0isa99ie @jjhmk @yukine-smx @roe-sinning @meowmeowminnie @yeritheloml @y00nzin0 @yesv01 @halesandy @shegotboreddsoo @kangyeosangelic @gayliljoong @sanshineeeeee @kodzukein @baguette-atiny @seokwoosmole @nyeatinyjunkie @juliettechokilo @pockyddalgi @justaqueerbufoin @hwaightme @likexaxdaydream @ssaboala @gtr-skyline-lover @miriamxsworld @daegale @knucklesdeepmingi @naiify @yeoyeoland @arya9111 @mdibby @8tinytings @angelicyeo @wooyoungjpg @lonewolfjinji @asjkdk @charreddonuts @mangishii @yeoyeoland @pink-hwaberry @wooyoluvrr @maru-matt @pearltinyy @loveuwoo @m3chigo @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 (if I missed you please lmk!! bold = can’t tag)
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The snow crunched under your feet as you walked up to your parents' home.
Christmas had just passed—although both your mom and dad were out of the area, having the time of their lives in the warmth of another country. You envied them, but you were happy to be back in town after a rough breakup and a messy semester.
When you walked in the door with a bag of groceries and now covering your eyelashes, your little brother Wooyoung sat on the couch in the living room, star-shaped shades on his face and a shiny jacket over his bare chest.
“What….why are you dressed like that?” you inquired, shoving your snowy shoes off your feet.
He stared at you blankly. “Are you stupid?”
You scoffed, walking past him to put the bag of groceries away—groceries that were solely for baking cookies. A perfect way to spend the night.
He stood up and followed you in. “Y/n, it’s New Year's Eve. How else should I be dressed?”
You forgot about it. All of it. It already pained you that you were alone this new Year after spending four of them with the same man.
You shoved the bag of flour into the cabinet aggressively. “I don't know, not like a disco ball? That jacket is gonna get puked on and ruined.”
He looked over at you, noticing your distaste. “Are you…..is Soobin, you know, coming in for the holiday? He already missed Christmas.”
Soobin decided to dump you for reasons unknown. You believed it was because he was chasing his dream of becoming an idol, and he couldn't have a bunch of sexy baggage like you, so you let him lose you. 
But if that wasn't the case and he broke up for you for the hell of it, you would strangle that stupid hot boy and let him pay for his crime of losing the best he’s ever had.
Anyway…
“Oh, we broke up,” you shoved the stuff around in the cabinet, hoping to distract your brother from the horrible news. You didn't tell him the whole time you've been home. You've been avoiding it—it was already embarrassing to be dumped, more so around Christmas.
It did not, in fact, distract him.
“Holy fuck, really?” he leaned forward, intrigued. “Why? What did he do?”
“Oh, you know,” you bit the corner of your lip, trying not to look like you were lying straight through your teeth. “He’s chasing his dream. I broke up with him so he didn't have to struggle with the girlfriend baggage and all. He was so heartbroken….”
Woo blinked. 
“Oh, girl,” he offered a sincere smile. Well, as sincere as wooyoung could possibly get. “He dumped your ass, didn't he?”
You stared at him for a second. You couldn't get past him—he’s seen breakups way too many times with San by his side.
“Yep.”
You stood there in silence for a minute or two, trying your best not to reminisce on your relationship—even though you were over him. It wasn't even about Soobin; rather, it was the aching feeling of being someone’s number two. A career, an understandable priority, still felt like a slap in the face to you, as you were less important in his eyes. You can joke with yourself and others all you want—but you crave that feeling of being someone’s pride and joy. Someone’s only thought when the world is about to end.
“Welp,” Woo sighed, not knowing what to say. “I have to head out soon. I’m meeting up with San and Yeosang to head to the party.”
You sighed, leaning against the counter behind you. “Have fun.”
He pondered for a second, sticking his tongue into the inside of his cheek. “Wanna come with us?” he asked.
You shook your head, already not feeling like doing anything—especially anything involving…..San. “No, no, you go have fun,” you smiled at him as best as you could.
He nodded, but gave you a look of worry before he left the kitchen.
You followed him like a lost puppy as he tossed his shoes on in the doorway, struggling to bring his chucks over his heel—his frat shoes, as he likes to express. The shoes he doesn't mind puking on. You watched in enjoyment as he wrestled his shoes.
“I’ll be back later,” he ruffled your hair tenderly, but the grimace on his face felt like he wanted to tackle you—in a playful way, of course.
“Be safe—”
He shut the door with a smirk before you finished your sentence.
“A sudden storm will be rising upon us within the next hour or so, with wind gusts up to……”
You could hardly hear the TV from the kitchen as you blasted Christmas music, flour on every square inch of you. You were baking—your favorite hobby. It’s been a while since you were able to bake carefree, and now that you had an unlimited amount of free time, you were going to bake as much as you missed out on. 
As you shoved in another pan of cookies into the oven, you heard the door open and shut loudly, so loud that you were able to hear it over your music.
“Wooyoung, what the hell?” you grumbled, your back turned from the doorway as you fixed up the already baked cookies to cool. “Can you slam that shit any louder? And aren't you supposed to be at a party?”
Silence. No response. 
“I said, aren't you supposed to be—”
And when you turned around, it was most definitely not wooyoung in the kitchen doorway.
You dropped a cookie onto the floor. 
“Well,” San smirked, his grey hood covering his dark hair, his lips curled sexily, and his eyebrows raised. “Aren't you a beauty?”
You stood there in a flour-covered apron, flour-covered hair, face, and everything in between, looking at the man across the kitchen table.
“San,” you breathed, brushing your hands off on your apron and bending down quickly to pick up the dropped cookie. “What are you doing here? Wooyoung told me he was meeting up with you.”
“To see you, of course,” He purred, taking a step closer to you. He walked around the table to get to where you were standing, and not surprisingly, he lifted a finger to the corner of your lips and then continued to taste it on his own. 
You shivered in what you wished was disgust.
His eyes lit up as he tasted it, licking his lips. “Mmm. Chocolate?” he hummed, leaning against the counter next to you. He pulled down his hood to reveal his messy, silky black hair. “You've always been such a great baker.”
“You scoffed, turning back to the stove to check on your cooling cookies. “Why are you here?”
“You just asked me that.”
“Yeah, but you didn't answer correctly.”
“I’m here to see you, baby,” he leaned forward. 
You leaned back.
“Ha!” you laughed sarcastically, picking up your spatula to wield it like a weapon in his direction. When you met his gaze, you felt your stomach drop from his pretty smile and his sickening gaze. “Wooyoung isn't here, alright? So you better leave, or I will kick you out—”
“I’ll just wait here for him until he gets back.” San shrugged, stealing a cookie before running away from the kitchen.
You followed him into the living room, tracking your flouriness all over the place. “Can't you just go home? I don't understand why—”
He was standing in front of the TV as your voice trailed off. Apparently, there was a huge storm that no one saw coming. San watched intently as he snacked happily on the cookie as if finding out that there was a blizzard outside was the best news he’d ever heard.
“A blizzard?” you freaked out, running up to the screen right next to him. After watching for a few moments, you went to the window, looking out to see the roads completely covered and the wind blowing a dusting of white all over the place.
“Oh….I didn't see that coming,” San’s irritatingly attractive voice spoke from right behind you, and when you turned around, he stood with a sinister smile on his face.
“You should go, for real,” you sighed, looking up into his eyes before moving your gaze anxiously. “Before you can't.” 
He peered over your shoulder, letting out a puff of air. “I don't think I can drive back on the roads like this….” he sighed, tilting his head at you. “It's too dangerous.”
You blinked, trying your hardest not to cave into those lustrous cat-like eyes. He blinked at you now, his expression unreadable.
It's been ages since you saw this man—ages, and he still treats you as if you were best buddies all your life. In reality, you've never once liked the guy. His hair pissed you off, his crooked smile boiled your blood, and god, his ears? Why were they so cute? How can ears be cute? Don't get yourself started on his lips…..lips that you….may have kissed once or twice all those years ago.
He never talked about it, so you just ignored it.
And now that you were thinking about his lips, your eyes dropped down to them, and when you realized, you cleared your throat and brought your gaze back up to his eyes.
“If you stay, you have to act like you're not here,” you breathed, crossing your arms over your messy apron. He looked down—down at your cleavage and smirked. “Eyes up here, mister.”
He hesitated to move his gaze, and when he did, your stomach flipped once more—god, maybe you just needed to get laid. It's been ages since you had a good fuck….
No. what were you thinking? No. no, no. Stop it.
You took a second to gain your thoughts before speaking again. “Just… don't do anything until wooyoung gets here.”
He stood close to you, looking down with those seductive eyes, his smile blindingly attractive. He didn't even need to speak to make your knees weak—which was probably why you hated him so much.
He bent his head to get closer to you, that smile still on his face. 
“Can I speak, master?” he nearly moaned, biting the corner of his lip. “I feel like it would be unfortunate to remain silent during our….reuniting time.”
You let out a little chuckle. “What? Reuniting time?” you uncrossed your arms. “That's funny. We were never close enough to unite in the first place.”
“Oh, y/n,” he purred, reaching out to twirl a finger around your hair. You wanted to run away. Your mind told you to, but everything else craved him—as it always has. “I would say we united many times, haven't we?”
He looked like he wanted to grab you as tight as he could and swallow you whole—but the conflict in his eyes said no. you watched his eyes dance around you, how his hand froze mid-air within your hair, and his lips flat in a line.
And it took everything in you to move away from him. 
You took a step back, watching his eyes drop to your feet.
“You can stay,” you coughed, looking anywhere but him. “But don't…don’t bother me. Don't talk about….uniting, or reuniting, or whatever…..” you huffed, giving him one last look before running into the kitchen, only to find the cookies in the oven burnt to a crisp.
And once again, the cycle began. San’s enchantment was whirling around you, capturing everything in its wake. Your heart never belonged to you—no, it always belonged to him.
And he will make sure you will never forget it.
San sat at the table, watching you intently as you made another batch of cookie dough.
“How’s school?” he asked you, his voice soft.
You shrugged, stirring the dough with your bare hand, as there was no mixer. “It's fine, same same.”
He nodded, his chin held up by his palm. You continued to mix the dough.
“How’s what's his name? Soo—Soomin? Soojin? Soo–”
“Soobin?” you asked, trying not to smile at his obvious distaste.
He nodded, a frown on his lips.
You didn't get to respond as your phone interrupted the conversation.
“Ugh,” you huffed, holding your dough-covered hands in the air, unable to get your phone in your pocket. “Can you…can you get my phone for me?”
San stood up. “Where is it?” 
You pointed to your back pocket. “There, in my pocket.”
When he got next to you, he hesitated on reaching to get it, but when you gave him the death stare, his gentle hand glided down your back, down your ass, and to your pocket. You froze at his touch and nearly missed the phone call from your mess of emotions. 
He answered the call for you and held it up to your ear.
“Hello?”
“Oh, thank god,” wooyoung breathed. “Don't go anywhere, alright?”
You scoffed, looking down at your dough-covered hands and your filthy clothes. “Ah, I wouldn't worry about me going anywhere. I’m definitely not fit for an outing.”
Wooyoung didn't laugh like his normal self. “For real, don't go anywhere. I won't be home for a good while because of the storm, so make sure you stay safe and warm.”
“Awe, I didn't know you cared so much about me,” you cooed, but when you saw San’s little smile at your words, you immediately swallowed hard, lost in thoughts you shouldn't be having while you're on the phone.
“Anyway, just be safe,” Woo sighed, taking a breath in. “I’ll be living off this shitty-ass beer and stale cookies. These sons of bitches are so cheap I swear—”
Without warning, the lights flickered slightly.
And then they went completely off, leaving you and San with no lights, no power, no anything.
“What the fuck—”
“For fucks sake,” San hissed, catching him off guard. Wooyoung, however, perked up the minute he heard a man.
“Who’s there with you? I heard a voice?”
“Oh, it’s just San,” you mumbled, looking up at him, where his eyes even sparkled in the dark. You forgot your train of thought for a moment. “He came here looking for you.”
“Yeah, right. That dude’s been obsessed with seeing you ever since he knew you were coming home. What a little pussy. He had to make up a lie to come over? Pfft—”
“Ah, oh no, looks like we lost service too—you’re breaking up—” San coughed, and after a moment of time for wooyoung to react, he hit the end button, tossing your phone onto the counter with haste.
You gave him a funny look as he tried to ignore your gaze. The room was extremely dark—not a single light source other than the little bluish glow from your home screen on your phone. 
You had no idea what to say to him; he didn't know what to say, either. You just stood in the dark kitchen, the oven at a standstill, and so were your feelings. He was looking down at his feet, trying his hardest not to look at you—although it was too dark to see you, anyway.
“Guess I’m done baking,” you hummed, giving him a slight look of curiosity before you took the cookies out of the cold oven. 
“Yeah, that won't work now,” he muttered quietly, very much unlike his usual dickhead way of speaking. He swallowed hard, too close to you. 
You stood strong right in front of him, your body telling you to grab him by the neck and kiss those gorgeous lips of his. Maybe you were just that desperate to feel something after your breakup—or maybe you always wanted San—either way, you were so close to giving in to your desire, but you pushed yourself away and took off your apron slowly.
“You never….you never answered my question earlier.”
You set the apron down on the counter next to your phone. It shut off now, leaving you in complete darkness, with San only a shadow in front of you.
You frowned, but you couldn't see the look on his face in front of you. “What question?”
“About how Soobin is?”
You scoffed, trying your best to look up into San’s eyes. You saw them sparkle slightly, and you stared into them. “So you do know his name.”
“I really don't care what his name is, y/n,” he grumbled, taking a step closer to you.
You smiled, knowing by the tone of his voice that he was aggravated. “Well, if you must know, I really don't know how he is.”
San grew quiet, but you heard him take a breath in. “what do you mean?”
“We broke up, so I wouldn't know how he is, alright?” you hissed at him, but only to get a reaction out of him—god, you didn't know what you’d do if what wooyoung said was true—that if San came here to see you, that he was waiting to see you for ages, that he’s irritated over the fact you’ve had a boyfriend—all of it would send you into a spiral. You always told yourself you'd need to be completely wasted to even think of San in a new light….but here in the dark, with his hot breath caressing your cheeks, you were ready to say fuck it to your facade. 
He didn't say anything for a while. He just stood there, his one hand leaning against the table to hold himself up. 
“You…broke up with him?” he hummed quietly.
“Mhm,” you nodded, tilting your head up to try and meet his gaze.
He swallowed, nodding. “Mmm. I see,” he smiled—at least it looked like he did. “Nice.”
“Nice?” you furrowed your brows.
“Well, I mean, I never liked the guy, so—”
“Why?”
“I don't know—”
“Yes, you do know,” you took a step even closer, causing him to catch his breath. “What’s the reason?”
He sighed, his breath dancing across your skin. “Well, like, two years ago or so, when we were out at the bar,” San took a second to form what he wanted to say, and you stood and looked up at him without a blink. “He got you a drink with Malibu in it.”
You blinked, confused. “So? I don't even remember that San, I don't know why you're bringing that up—”
“Because you hate coconut, y/n,” he interrupted you, his tone of voice exasperated. “And you hate going to bars—they stress you out. You didn't even finish the drink before he got you another and didn't even care to know what you liked…so I didn't like him.”
You stood there, mouth slightly dropped after his words. 
That was enough of a confession for you. 
“So….you didn't like him because he got me a coconut drink or….” you reached out, your fingers delicately draping over his that were resting on the table. He jumped slightly at your touch as if he was never expecting it. “Or because you could do better than him?”
San remained still as you let your fingers glide up his arm, feeling the softness of his hoodie that you wished to take off.
“....I think you know why I didn't like him….” He breathed.
You leaned forward in the dark, your gaze piercing right into his. Your hand met the base of his neck, sending shivers down his spine from the coldness of them. He let out a sound of pleasure at your touch, your other hand meeting his waist.
You didn't say anything else. You just wanted to fall into him, even with the consequences; it didn't matter what would happen tomorrow. He was breathing shallowly, his lips parted, begging you to kiss them as if he was waiting forever. 
And as if they knew the timing, the lights flickered back on, revealing a lovestruck San—his eyes hazy with desire and his expression out of a book.
His fingertips found their home on the side of your cheek, holding your face gently, carefully, as if you were glass.
You were less than an inch away from his lips, but before you pressed them to his, you stepped back, knowing that you were a filthy mess—you didn't want him to spend this time with you while you were embarrassingly messy.
“I….” you paused, pulling away from his hold. “I…need to shower,” you mumbled, giving him a look.
He blinked slowly. “A…shower?” 
“Yeah.”
With one last look at him, you saw the hesitation in his eyes. You walked past him, brushing up against him before you walked up the steps.
And before you got to the bathroom at the end of the hall, you heard his clunky footsteps make their way up the creaky stairs.
“Wait, hold on,” he huffed, grabbing your wrist to turn you around. “What was that?”
You looked at him innocently. “What was what?”
He furrowed his brows. “You know, that.”
You shrugged, fighting the smile that begged to arise. “What?”
He groaned, dropping your hand in a fit. “You were going to kiss me.”
You tilted your head, playing with him. “Was I?”
“Were you not?”
“I don't know.”
“Yes, you do know! You were literally about to kiss me—”
“And what if I was?” you whispered, your eyes slanted with mischief. He looked at you, his own expression changing from confusion to….well, more confusion. 
He bit his bottom lip. 
“Am I supposed to follow you into the shower?”
You smiled, letting him decide what you wanted him to do.
With a curt turn, you opened the bathroom door, leaving it open a crack, inviting him in.
You took off your messy top, covered in flour. You waited patiently, taking off your bra and your pants, and all that was left was your panties before he entered abruptly. 
“Listen, you can't leave that door open and not expect me to—oh,” he paused, his breath shaky. 
You stood unmovingly, facing him.
And with a slight scoff, he ran towards you. 
“Fuck it,” he huffed, slamming his body into yours, swallowing you with his whole being.
His lips caressed yours, biting your tongue, shoving his own into your mouth. You took in a sharp breath as he sucked on your soul, his hand finding your breast to squeeze it tightly.
“God, I’ve been waiting to do that forever,” he groaned against your mouth, his other hand playing with the hem of your underwear. With one quick motion, he pulled them down, falling onto your ankles as you stepped out of them.
You smiled into his kiss, tearing away at his hoodie before he pulled it over his head, leaving him shirtless and full of glory. You parted away from his lips, kissing down his chest, over his mounds of muscle, until your knees hit the floor.
He froze under your touch, your fingertips gliding over his hard-on. You grinned devilishly up at him, his expression in a mess of excitement and nervousness. Him? Nervous? Impossible.
You pulled down his pants as swiftly as you could, causing him to hiss sharply. He was fully on display for you now, his cock pulsing and ready for you. You grazed your fingers from his base to his tip; then you took it in your mouth without a warning.
He grunted, immediately gripping the hair on top of your head, tossing his own back with aggression. His little moans were music to your ears; not once did you ever believe you'd hear them—he looked so fuckable. So desirable. He always did, which explains why he was your first-ever kiss, why you always thought back to him when you were with Soobin, why you couldn't avoid his charms even though you so desperately tried.
He moaned your name—said it with such haste as if he couldn't hold back. As if he’s wanted this for ages. He leaned into your mouth, moving his hips slightly to push himself in deeper. You let out a gag, causing him to moan once more, making you smile against his cock.
You moved back and forth on him, no hands in sight. You glanced up at him through your eyelashes as you pressed your lips at the base of his dick, watching his eyes close tight and his chest heave.
“God fuck,” he huffed, his fingers tying knots in your hair, causing tears to build up behind your eyes. You liked it—loved it—his touch was ecstasy.
Without a minute to waste, San pulled you upward and off of him, just for him to press his lips to yours, reaching backward to turn the knob on the hot water.
You giggled against his lips as he almost fell. He smiled back, teeth clashing into yours as he pressed his bare skin to yours. You both stepped into the shower, not even caring that the water wasn't warm enough yet. 
His tongue slid down your throat, caressing the roof of your mouth, exploring the uncharted territory. Water spilled over your heads, dripping down your faces, drenching your hair. His hand gripped the back of your head as he slammed you into the wall of the shower, causing you to gasp.
He pulled away for a second, his eyes heavy, his lips parted as water dripped down his beautiful face. He pressed his forehead against yours—feeling as though this scene was all he’d ever wanted; it was premeditated—not a quick decision.
He blinked away the water, smiling before enveloping you in another kiss—this time, it was less lustful and more desperate. He breathed into your soul, his hands cradling your face with all the tender care he could muster. His breaths were shaky, and his hold on you was tight, as if there was somehow, someway, you would break away from his embrace.
You bit into his lip, your hands never finding a home as they explored all the planes of his body. He grunted as you reached for his dick, his eyes glimmering at your expression. No words were needed—he gave you one last look before flipping you around, shoving your face into the fall, and sticking his dick into your entrance. His lips were nibbling at your ear, his hot breath delicately stroking your body and soul.
He didn't push past your entrance just yet—no, but his fingers did. They glided over your clit from the back, your breasts aching from being pressed against the tile. He let out a little hum of a moan into your ear as his fingers entered you, two of them. You whimpered in delight, the movements turning you on more and more. You felt yourself getting wetter and wetter, his fingers curling up inside you, his shallow breaths echoing in your mind. 
You couldn't take it anymore—you needed him inside you, now.
“I need you in me,” you moaned against the tile, tilting your head slightly to see his expression. “Now, please. God, please.”
He smirked, moving you now to the far wall, your back still to him. You nearly slammed your head into the wall as he moved you.
“As you wish,” he breathed, his voice dripping with lust, with love, with unknown feelings. With a quick movement, he shoved his dick inside you, causing you to arch your back from the fill. You cried out, holding onto the wall as he gripped your hips, moving rhythmically and melodicly. You furrowed your brows in pleasure, muttering his name. “Oh, San,” you moaned, causing him to move even faster.
The water crashed onto you, making you feel even higher than ever were before. The heat of it was scolding now, but nothing beat how hot San made you feel—he was indeed a genius in the manner of lovemaking, a god, at that. You knew why, everyone knew why, but you didn't care at the moment. The only thing you cared about was his body on yours, in yours, all around you.
You were reaching your high, your vision hazy. You let out a cry, a huff, something to show that you were enjoying him, and he made a sound, too.
As you reached your climax, you arched your back even more, shoving your face against the wall, your forehead thumping against it with every thrust of his. You came on his dick then, your body fighting the urge to shake from the feeling he supplied you. 
He felt it—you knew it, as he quickened his pace, his breaths becoming more uneven as the time went on, your body tightening around him. He hissed sharply, thrusting with grace until he emptied himself into you, coating you, becoming one within you.
He collapsed into you, against the wall, his dick slipping out from you. He huffed, catching his breath as the bathroom filled with steam and sweat. You turned around in his embrace, his head falling onto your shoulder with a thud.
And then he started to laugh.
A laugh so beautiful, so….raw. You began to laugh with him, smiling as you grabbed his cheeks to lift up his head—so he could see you. 
His eyes were red, but they sparkled with so much emotion that you wondered how he was feeling. 
“So,” you smiled, watching the water from the showerhead drip over his black hair. “Happy New Year, I guess?”
He smiled—a smile that made you want to stop everything.
And then his eyes widened. “What time is it?”
You frowned. “I don't know, my phone is downstairs,” you whispered, locking eyes with him.
He paused for a moment, not knowing what to do, or at least that’s what you believed until he leaned forward and brushed his lips to yours ever so gently.
A kiss for a lover. A kiss more meaningful than sex could offer.
He pulled away, but only slightly, as his forehead rested against yours. “Happy New Year,” he kissed you again. “Just in case it is midnight. You haven't been my New Year’s kiss since years ago, you know.”
You didn't know what to say—you weren't sure where he was going with this, as you had never brought up your kiss with him before. He spoke cautiously, yet without caution at all.
“I….well,” you swallowed hard, looking up at him shyly. “You can be my….new years kiss every year, if you’d like.”
He smiled—grinned like a wild animal at your words.
“Well, if you don't mind, I’d like to kiss you more than once a year.” he grabbed you by the waist swiftly, smirking,
You giggled like you were experiencing this for the first time. In all honesty, you may be. No one has ever made you feel this way. You never wanted anything more.
With a flirty smile, you leaned forward into his embrace, the shower hissing in the background of your confessions. 
“I would love that.” you nodded, looking up into his eyes. 
He looked like a dream, his hair wet, his eyes bright. You couldn't wait to share more New Year's kisses with him, more showers, more cookies. You wanted everything and more—even if you didn't exactly know it quite just yet.
He was your everything—Your heart never belonged to you—no, it always belonged to him. And you will never forget it.
1K notes · View notes
togenabi · 7 months
Text
things I won't tell you
vinsmoke sanji (opla) x princess!reader
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♡—the new royal chef doesn't seem to recognize you without your crown. who's going to tell him? . . . certainly not you.
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word count♡— 7.3k (cries)
genre♡— fluff, royal chef x princess au
content notes♡— opla sanji, afab!reader is a princess, reader wears dresses, reader has siblings (oc's), sanji made me google fancy food, mentions of zeff, sanji gets jealous if you squint, no use of y/n, proofread (but only a little)
also on♡— ao3
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author's note♡— this is detached from any canon, its basically just a big chunk of sanji fluff. please enjoy!
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You've never really dreamed for yourself. You had always just let life fall into place around you.
The kingdom is prospering, entering a new age of commerce. Artists, craftsmen, and inventors sail seas just to be part of it.
Your sister Chrysanth is a wise queen, as you always knew she would be. She’s fair and just, always knowing what’s best for her people.
On the other hand, your brother August is Captain of the Royal Guard. He’s an excellent swordsman, who has yet to be beaten ever since he took command.
As for you, the youngest of the three, you have no idea what you’re doing.
The most likely outcome would be for you to be married off to settle some political arrangement. Unpleasant as it sounds, you would have agreed to it for the sake of the kingdom.
But the moment you said so, Chrysanth gave you a look unbecoming of a queen and immediately shut it down.
“Look,” She gestured to the view outside. “Does that seem like a kingdom who needs help to you? I work my butt off precisely so that we won’t have to depend on anyone else.”
“Besides,” She adds, “if anyone wants your hand, they should fight to the death for it.”
And so, for now, you work for your sister. Helping manage general affairs and the kingdom’s business agreements—even though she could easily hire someone else.
“I love that you insist on working,” Your brother told you once. “You could have been a socialite, but you’re here with us, serving the people.”
Of course you are. Because even though you didn’t necessarily plan it, you are proud and committed to your work. You’re happy with your own, mundane accomplishments.
Or at least that’s what you try to remember when you glance at the tall pile of documents on your desk. You’ll relish the satisfaction that will come when it’s gone.
The candle beside you burns low, flame becoming dimmer and dimmer as the hour grows late. You should probably replace that. Pulling open your drawer, your eyes scan its contents for a candle.
You’re fresh out of the tall ones that fit in the candleholder, but you have one sculpted like a cinnamon bun—a gift from August a few birthdays ago. It’s not exactly the best for illuminating your work, but something makes you strike a match and light it still.
It smells like freshly baked cinnamon rolls, you can’t help but inhale the decadent scent deeply.
The aroma triggers an embarrassing grumble from your stomach. You feel your ears burn despite the fact that no one else is around to have heard it. Perhaps a midnight snack is in order.
Unexpectedly, light seeps through the gap beneath the large wooden double doors to the kitchen. In all your years, you’ve never encountered anyone in the kitchen at two in the morning.
Normally, you wouldn’t want to disturb them. Knowing the chefs, they would likely fuss over you and put whatever they were doing on hold.
But you fear that your stomach will disagree with that, so you decide to knock and enter the kitchen anyway.
There’s only one chef inside—a tall, blond man with his back to you. You don’t think you recognize him. He must be one of the new hires.
When he hears your footsteps on the stone tiles, he turns around.
His expression, at first, is curious. But after a beat, his mouth curves into a charming grin that catches you completely off guard.
“Hello there, miss.” He nods in greeting, eyes alight with a look that no one usually dares when it comes to you.
“I’d be happy to fix up something for you if there’s anything you’re… craving.”
When you expected the chef to fuss over you, this isn’t what you meant.
Your first instinct is to look at his surroundings for alcohol. Perhaps he’s intoxicated and not in his right mind?
But the (sober) chef seems to have mistaken your silence for bashfulness, because he presses you further, “Trust me. I may be new around here, but I know my stuff.”
Unsure how to respond to his blatant (or insolent, your sister would say) behavior, you try to gently decline his offer.
“It’s alright,” You say, still uncertain about him. “I was only going to make a sandwich and be on my way.”
“Nonsense!” He insists. “If you’re hungry at this hour, it means you’ve been busy working too hard.”
He approaches the pantry, retrieving one too many things for a mere sandwich. Your concern grows when he grabs garlic, several leafy vegetables, and a lemon.
“You, my dear,” He points at you with, is that a cucumber? “—deserve a proper treat.”
You sigh, it looks like he doesn’t intend to back down. Maybe you should just let him do what he wants and see if he can back up all the talk. Pulling one of the chairs from beneath the kitchen island, you take a seat as you observe the flirtatious chef.
At least he seems to be enjoying himself. His hands work with the kind of precision that only comes from years of experience; and he smiles proudly when he sees you watching.
“I meant what I said, I’m a damn good cook.” He’s begun chopping the vegetables. “My name’s Sanji, by the way.”
The question now is whether or not you properly introduce yourself. It's difficult to deny that you enjoy his attention. The casual and relaxed manner he addresses you with is… a nice kind of different. When else are you going to experience that if you let this go?
Alright. For tonight, you're not a princess. You're someone who stumbled upon a chef—a handsome one, it dawns on you. This is a chance encounter in the palace kitchens. And, you glance over at the dressing and ingredients he prepared, why should you turn down good food?
You decide to only give him your name. It feels strange introducing yourself without your title, but you don't tell him that.
“It makes sense that your name is as captivating as you are.” Sanji's voice is smooth, easygoing as he moves around the kitchen.
Nothing about his demeanor changes. Either he really doesn't know anything about this country's royalty, or he's skillfully controlled his reaction and is hiding that he knows.
There's also a third possibility: that you look so haggard and tired that you simply do not appear royal anymore.
Subconsciously, you look at your typical office clothes… Maybe you should go on that fitting the royal stylist has been pestering you about.
On the topic of style, however, your companion has unusual attire for a chef. He’s wearing a buttoned shirt with a necktie. His black slacks match the suit jacket draped over one of the chairs.
Your attention is diverted when Sanji begins rolling up his sleeves. He juices the lemon he had sliced in half, arms flexing as he twists the fruit.
Clearing your throat, you ask him a question to distract yourself. “What are you making?”
He smiles as if he’s glad you asked. “A dish that suits a beauty like you, of course.”
Several minutes later, he presents you with a sandwich. The slices of bread are whole wheat; the layers of ingredients between them are all in varying shades of green.
“A green goddess sandwich, made with care for the goddess in front of me.” Sanji pushes the plate towards you. 
It's easy to stay composed despite the flattery because your hunger makes you focus on the food. “It really does look excellent.” You compliment earnestly.
He gestures to the plate before placing his hands in his pockets. “Tastes excellent too, try it.” Shaking your head at how confident he’s being, you pick up the sandwich.
It might just be the best sandwich you’ve ever had in your life. The flavors are fresh, and you catch the hints of lemon blending with the dressing. The bread is soft, contrasting with the crunch of the cucumbers and sprouts.
You're completely surprised, and it must be obvious based on how Sanji reacts. He lets out an adorable, pleased laugh that makes you want to hear it again.
“I knew you’d like it, ma chèrie.” Sanji reaches a hand towards your face. Your heart just about stops when he brushes his thumb to wipe at the corner of your mouth. His eyes look so intense, like you'll drown in them if you stare too much. 
It feels as if your face could burst into flames at any second, so you turn away to hide your flush.
As Sanji grabs you a glass of water, you ask him if he’s eaten. “I did, but it’s nice that you’re worried about me.” He answers. You almost choke on your drink.
Once you've finished your meal, you stand then grab your empty plate and glass. But Sanji mirrors you, blocking the way to the sink. Why must a chef have such broad shoulders?
He shakes his head, trying to get the dishes from you. “Can’t let you do that, love.”
“Why not?” You frown, pulling your arms back so he doesn’t reach them.
“It’s late. You shouldn’t be working any more—”
“But you’re allowed to?” You look up at him defiantly.
Sanji stares at you. You stare back. There's a few seconds of silence before you sprint the other way, running around the kitchen island to get to a different sink.
“Oh, no you don’t!” Sanji yells after you.
You’re almost there, but Sanji catches up to you easily. Before you know it, he’s blocking the way again and you curse, remembering his long legs.
“Sanji, let me do the dishes.” You plead, but he’s as stubborn as it gets.
“The knives I used need to be washed anyway, and I’m not about to let your pretty hands do that.” Sanji winks, and you give up. He pries the dishes from your hands.
Seeing your shoulders slump disappointedly, he offers you a compromise. “If you really want, you could throw the rubbish in the bin and wipe down the counters.” Okay, you can do that.
“Are you sure this is the only way I can repay you?” You ask, grabbing a washcloth to begin cleaning up.
“That’s plenty of help, my dear.” Sanji answers.
But after a moment, he seems to have gotten an idea. Your brows raise in curiosity as you question him, “What?”
“...I was just wondering,” He begins, looking at you with that flirtatious glint in his eye. “Since we had such a wonderful time tonight, would you be willing to join me again?”
“That depends,” You press your lips together to suppress the smile blooming on your lips. “Will you cook for me again?”
Sanji laughs, throwing his head back. “Darling, that’s a given.”
He gazes at you while he dries his hands. There’s a grin on his face as he asks, like he already knows your answer. He probably does. He’s probably right.
“Same time tomorrow?”
Even though you got back to your chambers at an ungodly hour in the morning, you woke up feeling the most refreshed you’ve ever been. There’s a spring in your step as you get ready for the day, and you pick clothes that are slightly more dressy than your usual attire. Sanji shouldn’t be able to notice that you dressed up for him, right?
But your sister does. 
Seated at the head of the table, Chrysanth stops eating to analyze your clothes the instant you show up to the dining hall for breakfast.
You could practically hear the gears in her head turning. Avoiding her gaze, you bow to greet her before taking your seat, “Good morning.”
The queen only smiles at you knowingly, eyes still flickering over you with enraptured excitement. Very much unlike a queen, however, she kicks your shin underneath the table.
“Ow!” You yelp.
“So…” She lets the syllable drag on. “Who’s the guy?”
You focus on piling food onto your plate, choosing to ignore her. “What guy?”
“Your guy.” She says, giddy. “Is he your guy yet?”
“Hm?” Is your only response. Breakfast looks lovely. Should you ask for coffee or tea today?
Chrysanth kicks you again.
“Hey!” You rub the skin to dull the pain. “Stop that!”
“Stop avoiding the question!” She persists, waving a hand to gesture at your clothes. “You only wear that skirt when you want to impress someone.”
Mentally cursing her for knowing you too well, you continue to act nonchalant.
“Really, it’s nothing.” You try to clarify. “I just thought that it would be a nice change.”
She doesn't believe it. Not one bit of it. Thankfully though, she drops the topic. Your shoulders relax as the discussion switches to work-related ones. She’s telling you about her plans to approve a restaurant in the museum when your brother joins you for breakfast.
Once he’s seated, August takes one look at you before tilting his head. “Who’s the guy?”
Chrysanth looks far too smug and triumphant than you’d like. You bury your face in your hands. Would Sanji also tease you if he knew?
The rest of the day is uneventful, the only change to your typical work day being that you avoid your siblings like the plague. You have lunch brought to your office and skip on dinner.
Sanji had already started cooking by the time you got to the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind,” He says. Of course you don’t, whatever it is smells amazing. “I thought I’d start early so you wouldn’t have to wait too long.”
“Thank you for going through the trouble.” You say, glancing at the ingredients he had laid out: there are crushed tomatoes on the counter. Pasta simmers in a pot on the stove. You recognize the tubed shapes with ridges surrounding them.
“Rigatoni?” You ask, turning to the chef.
Sanji nods, “With a simple, creamy tomato sauce. Nothing too extravagant, but still specially made for you.” 
He puts the pasta into two bowls, grating parmesan cheese on top. Your mouth waters.
“Here you are, darling.” It pleases you more than you thought it would when Sanji sits across from you to eat as well.
There’s something homey and yet luscious about the taste. He really outdid himself. “It’s delicious, Sanji.”
“I live to please.” Sanji says before standing to retrieve two wine glasses and a bottle of red. “Zweigelt.” He says as he pours for you both. “Juicy and fresh, with just the right amount of acidity.”
You almost swoon at the rasp in his voice. You never realized someone could be so attractive when talking about wine.
As he clinks his glass with yours, you think to yourself that this might be your favorite dish from him. However, true to his word, he surpasses your expectations every time.
After a few weeks, on your sixth (or is it seventh?) time meeting Sanji past midnight, you've reached the point where you're able to open up to each other beyond the pleasantries that come with the food.
He tells you about his dream of traveling the seas in search for the best ingredients the world has to offer. You admit how you sometimes feel like life is just taking you along with the current—that you’ve never had a burning, passionate dream to aspire to.
“I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” Sanji hums contemplatively. “There aren’t any deadlines when it comes to finding dreams.”
“I do worry that you’re working yourself to the bone, though.” He adds, and for once, his smile looks different somehow. It’s a fond, gentle smile that’s sweeter than the macarons he made for you.
“What do you mean?” You take a sip of water.
“While I'm flattered you enjoy my food so well, do you eat properly? Shouldn't the palace be treating you better?” This time, you actually choke on your drink.
Could it get more embarrassing than this? Your ears burn as you cough, trying to clear your throat and settle your heart.
“Breathe, love." Sanji, ever the gentleman, is next to you in a flash of a second. He pats your back gently and supportively. “I'm sorry if I startled you.”
“It's alright—and, I do eat,” Your voice comes out raspy. “It's just that I don't usually have an appetite for dinner.”
“But that leaves you hungry for a midnight snack?” Sanji asks, a knowing expression on his face as he refills your glass.
“Exactly.” You smile. Thankfully, your throat has calmed down. Picking up a vanilla-flavored macaron, you savor the taste that melts sweetly on your tongue. Returning to his chair across from you, Sanji watches you eat happily. 
“I take pride in my desserts, but that chocolatier in Belltower street… The sweets are just—out of this world, I tell you.” He looks so excited as he talks, eyes aglow and gestures animated. “The chocolates are handmade and everything. I'm sure you've heard of it?”
“Um…” Hesitating, you certainly remember issuing a business permit for a chocolatier; but you can’t say you’ve gone there yourself.
Sanji’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Surely you’re pulling my leg. You haven’t been?”
“...”
He observes you quietly, like he's considering what to do next. There have been instances when Sanji stays quiet, doesn't eat, and only watches you chew. The times where he insists that he's content with seeing you eating well. Those were awkward at first, but you learned that was just part of spending time with him. Your reaction was a reward on its own.
But this isn't like that. Something feels oddly different in the way he seems to be gathering his composure. The silence almost worries you, but thankfully he breaks it first.
“You’ve saved me the trouble of thinking of a place to take you to.” Laughing, Sanji practically glows in elation. “You’ll love it, I promise.”
You had a peculiar sense that you would’ve loved going anywhere, as long as you were with him. 
Feeling bold, you suggest, “I’m free this Saturday if that’s good for you?”
He gives you that soft, enamoured look again. Something makes you hold your breath, your fingers tingle and the entire rest of the world slows down. You’re almost certain you’re giving him the same look.
“Even if I wasn’t, love, I would have gone to you anyway.”
The next day, a Thursday, your brother unexpectedly knocks on your office door.
“Hey,” You smile. “Is something wrong?” 
It’s rare for August to look for you in the middle of the day. If either of you need to speak, it’s usually you who heads into the training grounds to talk to him. The other way around occurring is curious.
“I wanted to invite you to watch the knights train this Saturday.” He says coolly. “It would boost their morale if you spoke a few words.”
The commander goes on to speak, not catching that you’ve short circuited somewhat, trying to rack your brain for a valid excuse to decline him.
“And maybe, you could pick out a personal knight like I’ve been telling you.” August prompts. “You really should—”
When he pauses, squinting his eyes at you suspiciously, you suddenly recall why you stopped trying to hide anything from him. 
“You already have plans.” He says, face carefully blank.
“Yes.” Thank goodness he understood. But wait, his eyes are widening. Why is he making that face? Why is he looking at you like he just figured out—
“You have a date.” Darn it all.
August is bewildered, not knowing what to do with the information he put together. He awkwardly brushes his fingers through his hair.
“...Is he a good guy, at least?” He settles with, asking carefully in that concerned way he does when he looks out for you.
Biting your lip, you nod. “He seems to be, so far.”
“Okay.” August responds. “Does Chrysanth know?”
“It’s nothing serious.” Yet. Yet? Do you want it to be? “You’re the first I’ve told.”
A worrying thought suddenly pops in your mind. Your turn to him, distressed. “Please don’t tell her yet, August.”
“Why?” His frown deepens, like he’s about to ask more questions. Unfortunately for him, you decide you’ve had enough talking about Sanji to your brother for today.
“Aren’t you busy?” You grab his arm, guiding him out of your office. “Don’t you have training to get to?”
“I do, but—why can't Chrysanth know?” You open the door for him and try to push him out, but August plants his feet; still trying to figure you out. He doesn’t budge an inch.
But then he makes that face again. That annoying ‘aha!’ face.
“You really need to go, good luck with training! Tell the knights I said hi—” You manage to shove him out with all your strength, but at the last second before you close the door, August turns around again.
“He’s a commoner, isn’t he?” You slam the door at his face. 
It doesn't matter. Sanji's status will never matter to you. Not when he's holding your hand so sweetly while he guides you through the winding streets of the city. You recognize some shops by name, knowing who owns what and when they established their business. But Sanji knows these streets, and he's more than happy to show you.
“Ah, one moment, my dear.” Sanji pulls you towards a quaint little cart overflowing with flowers. He flicks a coin to the vendor, eyes scanning all the vibrant colors and bursting petals. 
Somehow, without you needing to tell him, he picks one in your favorite color. You're starting to feel like that's just part of being with Sanji—that he knows what you want, and knows what you need before you do.
The flower is soon tucked into your hair, behind your ear. His fingers linger on the side of your face—and normally, you'd break eye contact and shy away. Maybe let out a halfhearted excuse that you should continue on your way. But you don't.
You smile back at him, not bothering to hide the genuine happiness you feel. And when Sanji pulls back, you're already holding out your hand before he reaches for it. There’s something in his eyes. Something that makes you feel like you're walking on air when he tugs you along again.
As planned, Sanji takes you to the chocolatier he told you about. The building is small, tucked between larger shops in the middle of a busy street, but there’s no doubting the quality of their confections.
The elderly chef behind the counter greets Sanji like a grandson she hasn’t seen in forever. She ushers him in, enthusiastically pointing to this and that, saying she moved some furniture around as he suggested.
“It looks perfect, grand-mère.” Sanji smiles, taking in the beautiful glass display. Chocolates of every flavor cover the shelves from end to end.
Grand-mère’s eyes light up when she sees you. She casts an approving look at Sanji, “I like this one. She might even be too good for you.”
“That’s because she is.” Sanji laughs, and you pretend to browse the menu while they talk.
“No need for that, ma chèrie.” The menu is plucked from your hands. Sanji sets it aside, pointing instead to where grand-mère is behind the counter. She's wrapping up a box of chocolates that she hands to you.
“No need to pay, dear.” She smiles, patting your hand. “If he ever gives you trouble, let me know.”
Sanji whisks you away through the streets again. You've never been this far into the city before. Looking back at the path you've taken and not recognizing any of it, you know you’d be absolutely lost without Sanji by your side.
“Almost there.” He tells you, pointing to a cobbled path that inclines upwards. 
What meets you at the top of the path is a small clearing. A stunning tree with blossoms on its branches stands at the center. Flowers and petals flutter away and fall onto the iron bench beneath it.
“Sanji, this is lovely...” You trail off, letting go of his hand to catch a flower into your palms. The flower twirls delicately between your fingers before you turn back to Sanji, tucking the blossom into the pocket of his suit.
Sanji takes your hand before you can pull away, bending down to press a kiss to your knuckles. 
“Not nearly as lovely as you.”
The two of you spent hours under that tree, sharing chocolates and stories—feeling like this is how things are supposed to be. Not necessarily the flowers, or the chocolates, or even the sun setting beautifully in so many warm colors.
Just Sanji. With you, next to you. 
All at once, it sinks in that he could be the dream you've been waiting for. But you don't tell him that.
Being enlightened on your feelings for Sanji becomes a second thought, however, when you’re swamped with work the following week.
“Don’t these people ever get tired?” Chrysanth groans, leaning back on her chair. “Why is planning a festival so hard?”
You approach her desk and place another stack of documents onto it. The numerous piles are getting concerning.
She scowls at the papers, then scowls at you. “Don’t you ever get tired?”
“Of course I do.” You tap a stack of documents to her left. “The guest list for the ball needs to be approved by tonight so we can send invitations out.” She groans again, but picks up the list anyway.
You’re unable to see Sanji as often as you’d like, but you both promised to meet once a week. Even if it’s only for a few short heartbeats together.
You dearly miss him. You think about him as you hand Chrysanth menu plans for the ball. If he saw it, he’d say that he could come up with something better.
She glances at the menu, studying it. Or at least, that’s what you thought she was doing—until her next words proved you wrong.
“So, how are you and that chef doing?”
Your heart isn’t in your chest anymore. It sank down, deep into the depths of the earth. It also must have taken all the air in the room along with it. How did she—
“August?” You blurt out.
Chrysanth shakes her head, “Zeff.” Oh no. Sanji’s boss knows? Does Sanji know that you’re—
“According to Zeff,” She proceeds, cutting off your thoughts. “One of his subordinates has been cooking a lot of personal meals over the last few weeks.”
“I can explain—” But your sister holds up a hand. Your mouth snaps shut.
She calls your name, and then you realize how serious her tone is. “Are you familiar with the kitchen’s rules when it comes to using ingredients and supplies for personal use?”
“...I’m afraid I'm not.” You didn’t know the kitchen had any such rules… but surely Sanji does. Your voice stutters, “I, did—is he in trouble?”
“He isn’t.” She answers, though her expression is still grave. “But I think that you should be aware of how much he’s doing for you.”
Chrysanth opens a drawer to retrieve a list of kitchen rules. Reading it over, everything is standard and straight to the point. You find the answer to your confusion towards the end, a small, nondescript bullet that reads:
All staff must reimburse the cost of all ingredients used for any reason outside of official duties.
“He must know who I am, then.” You say, feeling relieved that he didn’t break some sort of impossible rule. “He wouldn’t have done so much for me if he didn’t.”
Your sister purses her lips, letting the silence linger for a second before responding, “He doesn’t know, love.” She hands you another document. “He’s been paying back every cent out of pocket.”
Tracing over the timestamps and the different ingredients listed, you stare at an outline of your time with Sanji. It’s nice to reminisce, but you can’t help but wince whenever you spot something particularly pricey. What on earth are you to do with this man?
“Zeff recognized your name when he asked Sanji who he was cooking for.” Chrysanth explains. “He didn’t tell him, but he came to me and requested for Sanji to be repaid.”
“Since anything served to me counts as official duties of a royal chef.” You piece together. 
“Exactly.” Chrysanth nods. “However, doing that would expose your title to him. Which is why I wanted to speak to you about this first… You should tell him.”
“I know.” Letting out a deep sigh, you agree. Sanji deserves to know more than anything. Nevertheless, the thought of him changing how he treats you—or worse, leaving—because of your status, frightens you to your core. 
“I’ll talk to him tonight.” You say, but your sister’s expression slowly changes. What did she plan this time?
“Or maybe, you could put the kitchen dates on pause and tell him in a few weeks.” Surprisingly, she hands you an invitation to the ball.
“I can’t bring Sanji as my date.” No matter how much you wish you could.
“Are you sure about that?” Chrysanth is unable to contain her grin. “Open it!”
‘…you are cordially invited to the spring masquerade ball.’
You gasp, “You turned it into a masquerade?”
“Yes, I did. You won’t believe how much convincing it took for the ministers to agree.” She rolls her eyes, but then her smile returns. “Don’t waste my hard work and have fun with your man, littlest sister.”
You laugh, not expecting this outcome after all that. “I love you, even if you made me go through so much emotional turmoil for fun.” She cackles.
“Of course I had to make you sweat after what you put me through.” Chrysanth scoffs, “I can’t believe I had to hear about your love life from Zeff, of all people.”
“Ah,” She says, remembering something. “Speaking of, why’d you guess August first earlier?”
“...”
“...Did you tell him before me?” She gasps. “How could you! Give that invite back!”
“I didn’t think you’d approve.” You admit shyly. “He’s a commoner.”
“If he treats you well—which, he obviously does—I could care less about all that.” Chrysanth reaches for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Only those stuck up ministers will react negatively, I’m sure. We can deal with them easily enough.”
When she lets you go, she abruptly adds, “He better be cute though.”
That sends you laughing again. “Oh, Chrysanth, he’s the cutest!”
He certainly is. Especially when he sees you and grins, opening his arms wide in expectation. You fall into his embrace when you’re near enough.
Sanji takes your hand and places it on his arm, leading you away from the kitchens.
“Some of the others are still in there planning for the ball.” He explains. “It seems preparations are keeping us both busy.”
Sanji takes you to the greenhouse, which you’ve never seen at night before. Various patches of vegetables and shrubs line the space. There are trees and flowers towards the back too. It feels like a secret hideout, being here with Sanji. 
“I miss spending more time with you, love.” He whispers.
“Me too.” Your heart melts thinking about how much he gave for you. You wish you had the courage to tell him the truth now, while he’s looking at you like you put up the stars in the sky, but you can’t. You’re not ready yet.
Reaching your hands up, you caress his face gently, brushing your thumb across his cheek. He places his hands over yours, keeping them there. 
Sanji closes his eyes to savor the moment, and you let him. You two stay like that, your hands becoming enveloped in so much of Sanji you feel like you could recognize him with your eyes closed, with a single touch.
There’s a certain familiarity to him at this point. You would probably have some difficulty adjusting back to life without him in it. He’s so familiar that you could probably draw him. He makes you want to try.
“...I was just wondering,” You say with a knowing glint in your eye. Does he remember those words when he said them to you that first night? “We’ve been working hard for this ball, wouldn’t it be a shame not to enjoy it together?”
You give him the invitation, and he throws his head back laughing. You send him a confused look, but it all becomes clear when he pulls out an identical invitation from his jacket.
“Ah, how brilliant you are, mamour.” Sanji embraces you again, and you bask in how perfect it feels to tuck your head into the curve of his neck.
“It will be easy to find you even with a mask.” You murmur into his skin. He shivers. “You’re so goddamn tall it’s not fair.”
“I’m not too worried about you finding you, either.” Sanji begins to sway slowly with you still in his arms. It makes your heart skip a beat. You can’t wait to dance with him.
“Are you confident you’ll find me first, then?” You ask, adjusting your hold around his middle to snuggle in better.
“I’m not sure about being first,” He ponders. “But I’ll be sure it’s you when I find you.”
The greenhouse became your new meeting place while the palace was buzzing to prepare for the ball. You could only meet for a few minutes, but you treasured the time you shared just the same. 
Once, Sanji tried to feed you one of the expensive fruits growing there, but you declined, making up an excuse that you were allergic. He had looked at you strangely, but didn’t press you further.
You couldn’t find the time to see Sanji the week of the ball at all. Your time was spent welcoming foreign dignitaries, discussing business and trade. You and your sister had a marvelous time shutting down a marriage proposal from some duke from the north.
It amazes you how much you’ve changed since meeting Sanji. Had the duke asked before you met him, you probably would have considered it seriously. Whereas now, your standard is far too high. The man you choose must be able to get to your heart by cooking you the best food in the kingdom and all the seas. 
You’re glowing by the time you finish getting ready for the masquerade. The dress you chose is in your favorite color, with the skirt twirling dreamily when you turn. 
Chrysanth permitted you to enter the ballroom a few minutes late to avoid a royal entrance. You use the time to compose what you want to say to Sanji when you tell him the truth.
‘I’m a princess, and I think I might love you’, is that a lot to say? You sigh, smoothing your hands over your dress.
The clock on the wall chimes. It’s been fifteen minutes since the ball officially started. You put on your mask, tying the ribbon behind your head to secure it.
After one last glance at yourself in the mirror, you head to the ballroom—looking much more collected than you actually feel.
Maybe you shouldn’t have bragged to Sanji that you would find him easily, because you don’t.
You were mistaken when you thought all you’d had to do was look for a tall, blond man with a blue mask. (Sanji’s mask is surely going to be blue. He wouldn’t consider any other color. You bet your foot on it.) It’s unnerving how many people fit that description tonight.
You even find your brother before you find Sanji. August is dressed in surprisingly simple, all black attire. He looks more like a gentleman than a commander, lacking all those sparkly medals he’s usually required to wear at events.
“Where’s your date?” August asks, ducking his head slightly so that you can hear him over the crowd. “Chrysanth bragged about setting you two up.”
“I haven’t found him yet.” You answer dispiritedly. “I thought it would be easy.” 
August looks around, and you know that if he knew what Sanji looked like, he would be able to track him down in a flash. You’re about to ask what you should do when August suddenly bows, extending a hand to you.
“May I have this dance, fair lady?” He asks in a fake pretentious accent that instantly makes you laugh.
It would be nice to say yes, but you desperately want Sanji to be your first dance. August would understand. 
But you aren’t able to decline, someone else beats you to it.
“I’m afraid her first dance is spoken for.” Sanji’s voice reaches your ears and suddenly the room is brighter than it was.
You almost gasp, elated that he found you. Were it not for that frown on his face, you would have voiced out your joy.
August and Sanji stare each other down. Neither of them say anything, but it’s clear that their first impressions of each other aren’t the most pleasant. Not liking the hostility you’re sensing is building, you tug at Sanji’s hand. 
Your brother’s eyes soften at that, and he bows again, this time to say goodbye. “I’ll see you later then.”
You watch August go, and Sanji grumbles something you don’t catch under his breath. You'll have to properly introduce them at some point, but worrying about their relationship can wait. You really must cheer up this grump who thought he was going to miss your first dance.
“Dance with me, stranger?” Intertwining your fingers together, you smile and take in how handsome he looks. His suit is still black, but there are several accents in dark blue—the same color as his mask.
The deep navy color makes his eyes look almost crystalline, and you recognize why you love him so immensely when he smiles.
“I would be honored.”
Sanji is more graceful than you expected. His movements are controlled and precise, never moving too fast and always making sure you’re falling into step beside him.
He’s proven, once again, that he can surpass your every expectation. Sanji spins you around, catching you by your waist and grinning before sweeping you off your feet again.
By the end of it, you’re left breathless due to far too many reasons, and they all involve him.
You had tried bringing Sanji to a romantic spot; maybe a balcony, or somewhere by a fountain in the gardens—but it seems that a lot of other people had the same idea.
Everywhere was crowded, but you suppose where you ended up is romantic in its own way. With the sky being cloudless tonight, you could see every star twinkling away through the greenhouse’s glass roof. 
Let the stars bear witness to you pouring out your heart to this man.
“Sanji…” You start, mentally preparing yourself.
“Yes, ma chèrie?” Sanji tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, you have his complete attention.
“There are things I must tell you.” You swallow the lump in your throat, not brave enough to look him in the eye yet; though you grip his hands tightly in yours.
Sanji waits. He doesn’t complain that you might be holding onto him too tightly, or nag at you for taking too long to put your words together.
When you finally look up to meet his eyes, you find the strength to breathe it out, “...I’m a princess.”
There’s this moment again, when you hold your breath and wait for his reaction; like when you first told him your name. Suddenly, it feels like you’re in the kitchen eating sandwiches with him again.
And, just as it did back then, his reaction surprises you.
His expression barely changes, the only difference being the barely-there furrow of his brows in concern. 
“I know, love.” He says.
“What?!” You drop his hands in shock. “Since when?”
Sanji blinks. “Since the moment we met.”
“But, I—why did you pay everything back? Why didn’t you ever mention it?”
His eyes widen, “Ah, is that why you wouldn’t eat anything from me these past few weeks? I knew you couldn’t be allergic to pineberries.” 
“Sanji, answer the question.” You pout, and he rubs your arms in an attempt to soothe you.
It’s Sanji’s turn to compose himself, you notice. He looks like he wants for your time together to stay lighthearted, when the thoughts in his mind are far from it.
“You didn’t want to talk about your duties, so I never asked.” Sanji shrugs, but you can see him getting nervous. 
“As for reimbursing the ingredients, I suppose I was worried that… you wouldn’t think of our time together dearly if I was just another chef on your staff.” 
Your heart shudders when he lets out a shaky breath. Oh Sanji.
“But that’s the truth isn’t it? I am, and yet I—” He pauses, eyes searching yours desperately. “If I didn’t pay for it, I would be admitting that a chef was all I’d ever be to you.”
You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off. “I don’t regret it. I would make the same choice if I had to.” Through the mask, you can see his resolve, but his hands shake as he holds you.
“I didn’t expect to feel this strongly about you.” Sanji continues, “You’re just so lovely, making me feel like I could take on the world for you.”
With your hands quivering the slightest bit, you pull at the ribbon behind your head. Your mask clatters to the floor. Raising your hands towards him, you push his mask up until it’s off, revealing the face of the man who has completely enamoured you; body and soul and all.
You think back to how the colors lit him up beautifully, that one sunset you shared under that blossoming tree. And now, he’s still just as beautiful, in this greenhouse under the moon and the stars. 
You love him all the same as you did then and every moment before. With the weight from keeping secrets gone from your chest, you finally let yourself admit it out loud.
“I love you, Sanji.” You confess. “I’ll go with you, if you’ll take on the world.” You try to say it calmly, but tears build up in your eyes. “You mean so much to me. You’re my dream.”
Sanji inches you closer, wrapping one arm around your waist while his other hand cradles the back of your head. “I love you too. More than you could possibly imagine.”
You quip back at him while wrapping your arms around his neck, “I think I have a pretty good idea.”
Sanji leans in the same moment you do, lips meeting in a passionate kiss that sends sparks running through every inch of your being. He pulls you impossibly tighter against him, strong hands caressing your back and holding firm at your waist. Your fingers rake through his hair, touching him to make sure he’s real. He’s here. He loves you. He knew. He always knew.
That night, you realized that your favorite taste from Sanji is his lips on yours. But, once again, he won’t hear you tell him that.
Sanji first saw you when a ceremony was held to welcome the new palace staff.
Everyone’s attention had been on your sister, the queen. Understandably so, but his eyes always strayed back to you. You looked gorgeous, wearing a stunning dress perfect for a princess as yourself. A cape draped tastefully down your back. And your crown sparkled brightly under the sun; but try as it might, it couldn’t be as dazzling as you.
Sanji was drawn to you instantly, and he thought he would go on with his life never understanding why.
That is, until you walked into the kitchen at two in the morning to make a sandwich.
It would have been impossible for him to not recognize you. Regular office clothes or not, something was different in the way you carried yourself. It was difficult to miss.
Other people would have thought you appeared mundane. And yet, Sanji found you the most beautiful then.
Because you let yourself smile more when you don't wear your crown. 
But he won’t tell you that.
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tags: @songsofadelaide-archive @amitydoodlez @sweetexistentialism @writingmysanity @hotchocolattee @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kenkenmaaa @ay0nha @watercolorskyy @holymusicalmothman @appalost
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author's note (yes, again)♡— sooo, what do we think about sworn knight!zoro x princess!reader ? 👀
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gremlingottoosilly · 5 months
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That Unwanted Animal [COD Fantasy AU] CursedKnight!Ghost x fem!Reader
Ghost was cursed ever since his king helped him get back to life from his grave. A stench of death, strong and inescapable, renders him unable to find a woman who will be willing to bed him. What will happen when he finally finds a perfect mate? CW and Tags: Dub-con, power imbalance, Medieval Fantasy AU, knight!Ghost, servant!Reader, sex work, brothels, dub-con kissing and touching, obsessive Ghost, dark Ghost, basically Ghost finds a girl and forces her to be his, Ghost is a half-dead resurrected knight, soft reader, submissive Reader.
AO3 Word Count: 2209
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“I won’t go to him, he smells!”
“Drop the act, princess, not even half of our guests reek of anything more than their drinks and foul meat.” 
“You know how he smells, Katherine. You know what he is.” “What he is, is a client. Rich one. Do you wish to moan under the belly of another failing merchant? Or a peasant’s dick is more to your liking?” “I bring this place more than half of its earnings! I won’t bed a man who has barely got out of his grave and should be put back!” Ghost sighs, his head pressed against the wooden wall. For a brothel, this place has remarkably thin walls. For a brothel, girls out here have remarkably potent noses – and acquired tastes for anything that doesn’t taste like a man who was brought back to life with dead souls still clinging onto every inch of his very being. 
For a man of his regals – the blessed knight, the cursed knight, the kiss-your-enemies-goodnight, the spill-your-blood-he might, he has a particular choice in the brothel he tried to entertain himself with. Not like any willing woman would bed him without a sum of gold enough to feed a family for months – and not like he stood low enough to force himself on poor servants of his castle, bringing his dignity and family name down with each handmaiden he tried to grope while on meeting with the king. 
“Do you think he is really dead?” “Dead man wouldn’t need a cunt to drown himself in. He had to have something working.” “Maybe he likes to watch? Or to hurt.” “Maybe, we can’t afford to turn him down, princess. Drop your act before he is willing to burn us down for refusing him.” “Well, I heard he went through every brothel in town. Not a single soul bedded him!” “I heard he doesn’t even like girls. Has his royal knight by his side all day.” “He came alone.” “He will be coming alone for the rest of his life with a smell like this!” “Dark magic. King should have known to not trust the Empire and their lurkings.” “Having a blessed knight is good, no? We’re not at war.” “Cursed knight is good in your army, not your bed. But if you are so willing…”
He hears women – from the madam of this fine place, a woman of fine manners, exquisite figure, and the way of looking at him that almost convinces that she doesn’t want to press her fingers against her nose, blocking the smell of death that follows him ever since he became…that. He hears girls of not-so-fine manners, with fine bodies and perfect pretty faces, gentle hands that don’t know about the trials of war. He remembers the way they looked at him – the way they always looked at him. 
Scary, horrendous, dangerous. A skull mask and dark tendrils of smoke follow his body, the Grim Reaper himself embedded in his dark armor. No matter how many perfumes he uses, no matter how many washes per day he forces himself onto, nothing can hide the stench of death. He thought he’d be fine with it as long as his battle brothers were with him – as long as he was with them. 
Then he got lonely. 
Finding a lay in the brothel would be a scandal for a man of his status – but Simon Riley is no man. Not anymore, at least. 
“I bet he wears a mask because he is hideous.” “Maybe he is just wounded?” “What kind of wound would make him hide his face while not being hideous?” “Maybe, he just doesn’t want to show his face here.” “No use. By the dawn, all women in the capital will know about great lord Riley, refuced at every brothel.” “What if he kills us?” “What if he burns us?” “What if he…” “Let the servant bring him tea. Make her useful.” Before he could react – as if eavesdropping on a bunch of whores was something of a pleasant chore he was dealing with – a door to his room had opened. Girl, in much simpler clothes than the ones that courtesans were wearing. With a tea tray in her shaky hands, grabbing the poor thing like there was no tomorrow. Huh. Perhaps, with a mug like his as her client, there is no tomorrow for a poor girl. 
Ghost sits on the bed, large, muscular legs spread, his dick swaying with attention the longer he is looking at your face. He can’t be picky, not in his state as a not-dead not-man, but he has to admit that you’re pretty. Without all the mannerisms of a prostitute, you look like a poor deer stuck in the predator’s den. Your hands are shaking – but he looks at your face, having no shame in drinking up your expression like a vampire – and he didn’t once saw you wince at the smell. Hm. Must be potent tea you’re serving. 
— I didn’t ask for the tea. 
Rude, as always – he didn’t come here to be ridiculed by poor attempts at pleasing him without a girl under him, getting her pretty legs open for his cock. He didn’t intend to come here and listen to all of the workers laughing at him like he was a monster – yet, he can’t leave now, his wounded ego grows into something ugly. 
— Most of our clients prefer to drink this before the…act. It makes them more potent, as they say. 
His cock didn’t have any warm body to dump his semen in years. He doesn’t need tea to make him hard – he sees the glimpse of your skin under those simple robes of yours, and he can already feel it stir, standing up for attention. 
— You don’t sound too certain. Your client must not drink it then. 
— I…I am not a prostitute, sir. Merely a servant. 
He knows already – your makeup is too plain, your manners are off, your clothes are simple grey wool with not a dash of color. If you were his – as a prostitute, a wife, a lover – he would bring you something much brighter and skimpier. You’d look good in silks, he thinks. 
Not like you’d allow him to bring you home – not willingly, at least. 
— So I figured, love. You’re pretty enough to be one, that’s clear. 
“You’re pretty enough to be a prostitute” is a compliment that only sounds good in the head of a man who hasn’t talked sweetly to a woman in ages. His whole life, perhaps, exchanging the embrace of a lady with tight hugs of the war. 
— You’re flattering me, sir. 
— Bloody hell, woman. Not a flattery if that’s the truth. 
— If you say so. 
You shift under his gaze like a rabbit in front of an apex predator. Ghost doesn’t want to force any woman to sleep with him – but he looks at the sway of your chest, at the softness of your hips, at the way you tug and scratch on the rough fabric of your skirt as you’re too nervous to look at him…
He must contain himself. 
— Why you work as a servant? 
— I…tried to be a prostitute, sir. Most clients here don’t like it when you’re not…
He slowly rocks his body closer to you, his head almost laying on your shoulder. He saw the way you looked at him as he leaned to you – you’re surprised, scared, but not disgusted. your nose didn’t twitch a single time, and he is sure that no tea would ever make you this blind to the stench of death lingering on your shoulder now. 
There must be something wrong with you – and he wants to save you like a rare treasure because of it. 
— Most clients here don’t like what, luv? 
— I…have damage, sir. 
So he figured. Just didn’t exactly know what you have. 
— What is it? 
— A…after a bad cold, my sense of smell…never returned. Not for the last three years. 
— You don’t smell anythin’? Must be bloody hard. 
— It is. But…I manage. As much as I can. 
He slowly drapes his hand over your shoulder – you wince at the touch. He thinks of the madam of your fine establishment. The woman didn’t seem the type to beat her girls, but you had such a shy, scared expression as he started to touch you, he can’t wait to burn this fucking place to the ground. Maybe spare a few of your friends if you’d ask him nicely. You won’t be working here again, ever – that much he can be sure of. 
— Doin’ a good job, love. 
— I hope so, sir. 
He drags his hand on your face, squeezing the soft skin of your cheek. You’re adorable – servants shouldn’t be so pretty, it makes him feel bad, it makes him sinful. He should try to hit on the girls who actually work here – not the poor soul that as sent here to bring him here, as a little lam sacrificed to a vicious god. 
— You don’t smell me, then? 
— I don’t smell anything, my lord. 
He chuckles, but your pained expression only makes him chuckle more. Poor thing, living in a place like this without a sense of smell – he can’t believe how you could survive without the smell of heavy incense and creams that all of the whores were using. He loves it when a pretty girl is making herself even prettier – makeup, all of those little elixirs they are putting on their faces, the flowery smells that make his rotting existence a bit easier. It never worked on him, on his disintegrating skin and stench that followed him everywhere – but then it dawned on him. 
You have such an adorable, shy smile and a small posture, playing with the edges of your clothes like a girl who is extremely embarrassed to be in a room with a man of his position. But women aren’t shy in his presence, not anymore – they are disgusted, horrified, they want to put their noses into little candy boxes and smell roses just to get rid of the smell. 
But you, adorable creature, aren’t disgusted. Hell, how he missed a pretty girl being so shy around him. 
Ghost kisses you before he can think of anything else. Before he could give you space to escape, to come to your senses and understand what kind of man he is. Broken, wounded, pushed to the cage, and locked with a key dangling from the side – god knows, Simon Riley isn’t a good man, never tried to be. Devil knows, he will drag you to the grave with him. 
Your lips are soft, untouched, you smell of cleaning supplies and sweet tea. Your hair smells like roses and dust, your hands are covered in little scabs – probably from the days spent cleaning and doing the hard work. He will make sure you will never have to work again, not with your hands, at least – he will kiss your callouses and nourish the skin into something delicate, fragile, to the smell of home he lost long ago. 
Your mouth tastes like heaven, and Ghost isn’t a man who deserves to push this angel further, isn’t a man who deserves to have a pretty girl moaning under him. He makes you cry, he terrifies you, he kisses you relentlessly and can feel the way your skin burns, tears streaming down your face. If he was a better man, he would oblige to your hands, pushing him away, your mouth is trying to cry for help. 
Simon Riley isn’t a good man, and he pushes you on your back, firms hands on your back, on your hips, touching, groping, feeling the skin of a somewhat willing woman. You’re scared, but you should know the kind of job girls here are doing – he didn’t pay all of this money for charity projects, after all. As much as he would pay even more gold just to take you away, to push your legs apart in a scenery much nicer than a room in a brothel. You deserve a real bed, a nice dress that he can rip away from you, 
All you get is his hands on your body, ripping your simple skirt apart because he can’t wait to get to the soft skin underneath. He looks at you, precious girl, as adorable as you are, and can’t resist kissing you, stealing breath from your skin. When he finally hears you moan, when his hand goes to grab the softness between your legs – moist, prepared, smelling of roses and arousal, of all things sweet and sinful – all of his sense of self-control shatters. 
He will take you on the floor of this room – over and over, claim you as his little maiden, his favorite girl, until he is sure his cursed, rotten seed has filled you to the brim. He will take you away, bringing as much money to your madam as he can manage, buying you all for himself – taking you as his prized possession for the new castle he was ordered to as a lord knight. 
Ghost will make you his, hells and heaven be damned. 
You cry, but he knows you’ll come around. And he can be very, very patient. 
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I wanna dance with somebody
Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 22
Prompt: Sports
Rated: T
CW: some vague mentions of Eddie’s boner
Tags: No UD AU; Meet cute; Good neighbor Eddie Munson; Dancer Steve Harrington
Notes: @thefreakandthehair, @sourw0lfs, @devondespresso - SPORTS! GO, SPORTS!!!
Wanna see dancer!Steve stretch (and Eddie have a horny meltdown)? Check out the artwork done by @house-of-the-moving-image!!
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It’s still half dark and freezing outside as Eddie parks the van in front of the dancing school.
“Shit, we’re running late,” Max curses and bends down to straighten her neon-colored leg warmers for the twentieth time. “Just because you couldn’t find your stupid car keys.” 
“That all you gotta say?” Eddie huffs, but all it gets him is that bewildered brow quirk she always does when he’s being dumb. “How about Sorry for waking you at ass o’clock, Eddie? Thank you for driving me, Eddie? You’re the best neighbor in the world, Eddie?” 
She scoffs at him. “Ew, are you always that desperate for validation? Pathetic.” 
Eddie gawks after her as she opens the passenger door and gets out to retrieve her duffel from the backseat. That little gremlin! He should’ve closed the door in her face, left her standing out in the snow. 
Except, it all rang a little too close to home. The way she huddled on his porch, arms wrapped around her too-thin jacket, face set in a disappointed scowl. The way she barked at him to drive her to dance class because her mom had been home late and wouldn’t wake up. He knows she’s been taking odd jobs around the trailer park to pay for the classes, knows it's the one thing during the week she looks forward to. Also knows that her mom is too out of it to care half of the time. Knows how that feels. 
There’s no way he could’ve denied her. 
The problem is, she’s perfectly aware of that. 
“You coming?” 
She’s eyeing him expectantly through the open back door of the van. Eddie waves her off, fumbles for his cigarettes in his pocket. Realizes he forgot them. Shit. 
“‘s okay, I’ll just wait out here in the car.” 
She rolls her eyes so hard her entire head sways with the motion. “Don’t be a moron, they have heating and a lounge inside. C’mon.” 
*
The inside of the dancing school is basically just one long hall with a floor-to-ceiling mirror front at one end. There’s a counter in one corner and two mismatched sofas with a pile of old magazines opposite that. Max makes a dash for the gaggle of girls doing warm-ups on the dance floor, even though there’s no instructor in sight yet. 
“Oh hey, can I help you?” 
Eddie blinks. A guy has just materialized behind the counter - though the truth probably is that he was crouched out of sight to retrieve the boombox in his hands. He puts it on the countertop, cocks his head at Eddie, which makes a few strands of floofy chestnut hair fall in front of his wireframe glasses, and oh fuck, he’s cute! 
“Adult classes don’t start until noon, but-” 
Eddie barks a laugh and saunters closer. 
“Yeah, no. I’m just here to drop off little Red.”
He jerks his head at the dance floor. Cutie follows the movement and his face breaks into a smile so full of genuine delight, Eddie wants to cuddle him. Or maybe bite him. Maybe both. 
“Oh, Max,” says Cutie. “You her brother?” 
Eddie snorts. “Nah, just a neighbor. Her mom was … indisposed.” 
“Huh,” Cutie says. Quirks an eyebrow. Somehow manages to put an entire unspoken verdict into that little noise and gesture. “She’s real talented, y’know?” 
Eddie shuffles in his place, unsure about what to do with that information. “Um, yeah?” 
Cutie nods, eyes darting over at Max, who’s dropping into a painful-looking split in front of the mirror, and shit, when did she learn that? 
“Yeah. I think she’s got potential. Plus, she’s really come out of her shell these past few weeks. So thanks for driving her.” 
“Oh, erm …” Eddie makes, pulls a strand of hair in front of his face to hide his incoming flush. “No problem, dude, not like I had-” 
“Steve!” Max hollers, and they flinch apart. Eddie didn’t even notice how they’ve both drifted into each other’s space, Cutie’s elbows bracketed on the counter and himself just swaying ever-so-slightly closer. “You done flirting, or what? We should’ve started three minutes ago!” 
Cutie - who’s name is Steve, apparently - takes off his glasses and winks at Eddie. Fucking winks at him. It goes ridiculously well with the pretty pink blush that’s blooming high in his cheekbones. 
“Sorry,” he mutters, raising his arms over his head and bending at the hip, does a silly little stretch. “Duty calls.” 
Then, he smoothes his hair out of his forehead and steps around the counter, pressing the Play button on the boombox. 
“Okay, ladies, here we go! One song for warm-up, just move around the room however you like, feel the music.” 
Some atrocious, boppy pop number starts to blare through the room, but Eddie hardly processes it. He’s too preoccupied by the sight in front of him. 
Legs. 
And an ass. 
Legs and an ass in fucking tights. They hug Steve’s form like a second skin, bringing out every muscle, and Christ, there’s a lot to bring out! Guy looks like one of these ancient Greek marble statues - if marble statues wore fucking Tears for Fears shirts and could balance on their tippy toes and do leaps and spins in perfect sync with the music, all with flawless core tension and a seemingly effortless smile. 
Eddie thinks he may need to step out. Take a breather. Throw himself crotch-first into the nearest snowdrift, maybe. 
Instead, he takes two shaky steps backwards and collapses on top of the nearest sofa, grabs a random magazine from the pile and fans it open in his lap to hide his very unfortunate predicament. 
It’s Good Housekeeping. 
Steve spins by, catches his eye and winks again. 
Eddie turns back to the magazine. Cool, fine, he always wanted to know about the ten best apple pie recipes to delight your loved ones with. 
He does hope this magazine is sturdy, or he might just tear through it.
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Part 2
All my holiday drabbles
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thealtoduck · 6 months
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Sweet Juice
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Clark Kent x Male Reader
Content: Greek Mythology AU
Warnings: Smut, Bottom!Reader, Top!Clark, semi-public sex, anal sex, unprotected sex, drunken sex, skinny dipping, spit as lube, missionary position…
Summary: You’re a member of Dionysus following and during a feast you meet a demigod son of Zeus, Clark, also known as the man of steel…
——
You were a lesser deity in a world filled with powerful gods, monsters and heroes. You were the son of the now famous naiad, Daphne. Unfortunately though your mother was no longer with you as she had been turned in to a laurel tree as a form of mercy.
It was considered mercy because the only other option she had was to be violated by Apollo, who was under the spell of Eros after an argument between the two. Apollo feeling bad about the whole ordeal apologised by finding you a place in the retinue of Dionysus and Ariadne.
You didn’t mind this as your duties were pretty much drink, dance, fuck, drink more and generally just to have a good time. It was just constant partying and celebration.
One night when the party had yet to start a visitor came for Dionysus. You were sat close to the god’s throne, you were petting one of his pet leopards when a strange man appeared and entered the god’s camp. He walked slowly towards the olympian. You noted his handsome appearance as he stopped in front of Dionysus.
”Lord Dionysus, you sent for me” the man said in a deep tone. ”I did” Dionysus confirmed before standing up saying loudly ”Everyone! Let me introduce to you to Clark, you may know him as the man of steel!… And also one of my younger half brothers”.
Dionysus followers broke out in cheers for the hero, who seemed slightly confused by the big welcoming. ”I’ve called him here to save us all from the cyclops that has been attacking in the night” Dionysus declared and everyone once again cheered.
”What?! You never told me of any cyclops?!” Clark asked agitated. ”Actually I didn’t tell you anything but you showed up anyway” Dionysus teased him. ”Why don’t you save them yourself?” Clark questioned. However Dionysus only responded with a simple ”Where’s the fun in that?”.
Clark looked irretated at Dionysus and said ”I will not be tricked in to fighting someone else’s battle”. Making the on looking crowd let out disappointed murmurs. Dionysus walked up to the hero and put a hand on his shoulder.
”Come on Clark, do us this favour and we’ll give you the biggest celebration you’ll experince in a life time, with the finest wine and feast, our best music and dancers and if you want you can take to bed anyone you fancy, we don’t judge” Dionysus offered.
Clark took a moment looking around at the crowd surrounding him until his eyes landed on you for a swift moment. He then turned back to Dionysus and said ”Very well, i shall do you this favour”. Once again the crowd including you broke out in cheers and applause for the demigod.
The very next day gifted Clark with a sword, armour and food by Dionysus as he and his followers saw off the hero on his way to save them from the threat of the cyclops.
I didn’t take long for Clark to return as he was back at the camp by next day. He came back in the afternoon covered from head to toe in dirt, dust and a little cyclops blood. Throwing the red painted sword by Dionysus feet.
”Well done” Dionysus complimented looking at the blood drenched sword. Dionysus then turned towards you ”Y/n, take our hero somewhere he can wash off” he commanded. ”Yes, lord Dionysus” you said with a quick bow. He then turned back to Clark and said ”When you return, we feast”.
You went and collected a basket with a bottle of scented oil, a strigil (a tool they used in ancient greece to wash themselves) and a new chiton. ”This way, my lord” you said to Clark and started guiding him through the forest. ”Please, just Clark is fine” he said humbly following you.
You guided him to a secluded pond. ”Impressive, how did you find this place so quickly?” Clark complimented. ”My mother was a naiad, it’s an instinct” you explained putting down the basket next to the pond.
”Would you like me to bring you anything else?” you asked Clark as he started undressing out of the dented armour and dirty chiton. ”You’ve already done enough for me, thank you” he said gentlemanly. Clark was now naked, revealing his muscled body and impressive manhood, which you tried not to look at.
He stepped down in the pond, the water reaching up to his hips. ”Why don’t you join me?” he suggested gesturing towards the water. ”I’d love too, but i have to help the others prepare everything for tonight” you said. ”Come on, only for a short time” Clark tempted. ”Okay” you said with a smile, taking off your chiton and sandals.
Clark watched your naked form with interest as you stepped down in to the water. ”See, it’s nice” Clark said starting to wash himself off using the scented oil you brought for him. You tried not to stare at his oiled up chest but you were 90% sure he caught you looking but he didn’t say anything, he only smirked.
You relaxed in the cool water for a while until you remembered you needed to get back to the others. You climbed out of the pond and started putting on your clothing once again. ”Thanks for the company, hope i’ll see you tonight” Clark said. ”Hope, i’ll see you too” you said and started walking through the forest back towards camp.
That night the music rang loudly through the forest as you celebrated the death of cyclops and your new hero, Clark. You drank and danced wildly with your friends. Some others were already passed out from drinking, some were gambling and playing games and one couple were fucking against a tree.
You saw Clark sitting on a pillow next to Dionysus talking, goblet in hand. You made your way over to the olympian and the demigod. ”Y/n” Dionysus exclaimed happily as he noted your presence. He patted a pillow next to him saying ”Come sit down”.
You took the offer sitting down next to the god, he made your empty goblet instantly refill and put an arm around you. ”I was just telling Clark of my inner circle” Dionysus revealed and continued ”Y/n, here you’ve met, he is my and Ariandne’s favourite attendant and friend” he said sweetly.
”Also he has a body as if sculpted by Pygmalion, carved and smoothed to absolute perfection. You should hope to have a look upon it someday” Dionysus said taking another sip from his goblet.
”Actually i already have” Clark stated boldly making Dionysus spill some wine on himself. ”Y/n, joined me for a swim in the pond” Clark explained making your cheeks heat up slightly. ”Is that so?” Dionysus questioned looking towards you.
”Well, i’ve got to go find Ariadne” Dionysus said getting up leaving you and Clark. ”Are you and Dionysus-?” Clark started but you cut him off saying ”No, he and Ariadne just have a very open relationship”. ”How has your night been?” you then questioned the hero.
”Enjoyable but i’ve never been much of a party person” he said then taking a sip from his cup. ”I get it, before i came here i wasn’t either” you told him and then got an idea. ”Wanna go for a walk for some peace and quiet?” you asked. ”Sure, i’d love too” Clark said and the two of you stood up and walked off in to the forest behind you bringing your goblets with you.
You walked and talked for a while, drinking until your goblets were didn’t have a single drop left in them. Dionysus must’ve brought out the strong stuff because you and Clark were stumbling around and slurring your speech, you were laughing loudly at each others stories, sitting very close together.
Finally the two of you ended up behind some bushes close by to the party. You started to passionately make out, you laying on your back in the soft grass and Clark on top of you. Clark tore open your chiton and undressed you, leaving your naked form beneath him.
He then took off his own clothes revealing his muscular body and his hard cock. Clark took his hand and brought it to your mouth, you sucked on his fingers to get them wet, then he brought his moist fingers to your enterance and started pushing finger inside you.
You let out a small gasp as Clark started to finger you open, he added another fiinger and then another until you were ready to take him. Clark spit in to his hand and rubbed it over his erect manhood.
”It’s time i claim my reward” Clark said spreading your legs, he lined himself up with you and started pushing his hard cock in to your warmth. Clark loved the seeing the face you made as his cock slowly filled you up.
”Fuck your so big” you hissed as the demigod was fully sheated deep inside you. He then slowy started moving pushing himself in and out of you as a wave of pleasure started washing over you.
Your legs were wrapped around Clark as he thrusted in to you. ”I’m gonna fuck your little nymph hole full with my seed” Clark groaned in to your ear and placed kisses all along your neck. The demigod started speeding up his thrusts.
”Clark, fuck yeah! Take me” you said in ecstasy grabbing at his back as he fucked your hole. Both of your bodies had started gleaming from sweat as he mounted you under the moonlight, as his reward for defeating the cyclops.
Clark’s thrusts became rougher as he wanted to take you like a real demigod would, he loved how your walls clenched around his thick cock. He brutally fucked you with all the strength of his godly heritage to bring you to your release.
You let out breathy moans as Clark pounded your gaping hole, thrusting against your prostate. You felt yourself getting close to your orgasm. You dug your nails in to the grass below as Clark’s cock made you see Mount Olympus.
”Clark, i’m gonna cum” you said panting heavily making Clark thrust deeper as he wanted to push you over the edge. Then your cock started spraying cum all over your and Clark’s stomachs. Clark’s own release was getting close.
”I’m gonna plant my seed deep inside you” Clark moaned and his rough thrusts became uneven and sloppy. Clark delivered one last deep stroke in to you and he erupted inside you, he flooding your insides with his cum.
Both of you panted heavily and Clark rolled over and layed next to you in the grass. ”You were amazing” Clark praised while softly stroking your cheek. The two of you then used your torn clothes as blankets as you cuddled close together and you both fell asleep under the starry sky.
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1800jjbarnes · 6 months
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◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟗: 𝐃𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚/𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲 - 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 ◇
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Prove It
【Synopsis】 : late night conversations aren't supposed to end in sex... right?
『W.C』 : 3.10k
-> Genre: College Au. Smut. Poly.
Pairing: Steve x Bucky x Stark!Reader
[Warnings] : Man handling. Clit play. Pet names. Dirty talk. Neck kisses. Fingering. Oral. Crying. Overwhelming amount of emotions leading to a type of subspace. Ass slapping. Making out. Sweet kisses. This is jut all over the place I’m sorry.
Masterlist | Kinktober List
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You couldn’t recall the time, but your hazy eyes and wobbly legs made it out to seem it was nearing at least three in the morning. You weren't a morning person, and neither seemed to be your body. But you couldn’t sleep, no, you needed a glass of water before your throat shrivelled up on itself. You hummed and hared over it, and in the end, you kicked up the blankets and headed to the kitchen. You had planned to down a bottle, waddle back to your room, and lay staring at the ceiling until it was appropriate to officially get out of bed. That was until;
“I’m just saying I see no chance of that ever happening.” Bucky's whisper, yelled through the dark home. You assumed he was in the lounge. Curious, you headed over to see what he might be talking about. Gazing into the room without detection, you notice Bucky sitting on the twin couch while another, scruff-haired, sits on the opposite couch. “Steve…” He sighed, “I’m gonna lose my mind at this point.”
“We could always just, ask.” Steve sounded as if he had discovered the perfect answer. But Bucky throwing a pillow in his direction says otherwise.
“For a dude majoring in social studies, you are stupid.” Bucky tisked, leaning back so his head would drape over the top of the couch. You decided to step out and make your presence known, wanting to join and see what this oh, so terrible situation they seemed to have put themselves in.
“Ask who?” You responded, making both men physically jump. Neither of them must have heard you when you were slamming the fridge before. Bucky suddenly sat up straight while Steve reached for the pillow that was thrown at him. You raised your eyebrow a little, choosing to sit on the loveseat by yourself. Were they acting weird, or was it just your imagination?
“Oh just school drama, don’t worry about it.” Steve was quick to cut off any more questions. They were definitely acting weird, and you hated that. Most of the time, out of all your brother's friends, Steve and Bucky were the friendliest. They treated you like a person and not some little girl or ‘Tony's Little Sister’.
“Hmm…” You didn’t know how to respond that wouldn’t turn into something sour. So you chose to just let it go. It’s not like it was the first time one of your brother's friends cut you off because it was ‘school-related’ even though they were all in their second-to-last year in Uni while you had only just started. On top of that, they treated you as if you were still this young eighteen-year-old. Most of them even forgetting you were twenty-one already.
“Sorry doll. It’s just…We don’t need to bore you with our stupid drama. Besides I’m more interested to hear about that boyfriend of yours. How have you two been getting along?” Bucky diverted the conversation as easy as breathing. One of his many skills. Sweet talking. You wanted to roll your eyes at the mention of your boyfriend, well, ex now. You don’t even know why you started dating him. Oh wait, you only started dating him to see if it affected Buck or Steve. But neither of them showed signs of disapproval. Which annoyed you. Your crush on them was getting out of hand, and your friend suggested dating someone to see if they would react, but now you wished you never took that advice from her.
“Ex. He, uh, wasn’t a great person. And in every aspect, full of himself and…” You stopped yourself, feeling blush, scatter your cheeks. You were really about to confess something about your sex life to them. Steve raised his eyebrow while Bucky clicked his tongue. Their attention was completely on yours, and it made you squirm.
“And?” Steve had a feeling what you wanted to say but he wanted to hear it from your pretty lips first.
“And…He wasn't experienced in the…L-Love department.” You gulped suddenly shaking your head. “But it’s not like I knew anything either given he was my first and all but like you should at least know where to pleasure a woman you know? Like I didn’t know how uncomfortable sex was until he decided to do it. It was so awful and I just—” You suddenly realized you word vomited and cringed internally. “Wanna crawl into a hole and never see the light of day again.”
It stayed silent for a moment, making you feel embarrassment riddle your body. But then Steve's laugh caught everyone's attention. “It’s okay. We all have that type of relationship at some point, but he couldn’t be that bad.” Steve tried to lighten the mood, trying to make you feel better, but it didn’t really help. You stole a quick glance at Bucky and noticed he was also looking at you with some type of remorse, feeling bad for you. You just groaned, pushing your legs to your chest, hugging them tightly.
“No, he was pathetic, if I’m honest. I’m not trying to be mean, but it’s true… he only cared for his needs..” It was like a switch went off in both male's heads. They knew what you were referencing, and they both couldn’t help but groan at you, basically saying you couldn’t get off to your ex. Admitting you were sexually frustrated. Admitting he couldn’t even do the simplest job of finding your sweet spot. You gulped, feeling the air become thicker as tension started to brew in the room. You shifted slightly, seeing Steve and Bucky both seem to become tense, stealing glances at one another.
“Finding the clit isn’t that hard darling.” Bucky chuckled lewdly making Steve laugh in response but you snapped instead;
“That’s what all men say.” You huffed.
“I can prove it.” Bucky's words made you choke on your own saliva. Did he really just say he could prove it? How would he do that?
“P-prove it?” You gulped now sitting in a crossed-legged position.
“Yeah I’ll prove it. Come here.” He smirked, patting his thigh while spreading his legs. You were hesitant for a moment. Was this all a trick? Some cruel game? You trusted your bothers friends with your life, but one thing you knew about them was they are heart breakers. Bad boys. And that they didn’t have the best track record with keep partners. “I’m not going to ask you again.”
His voice was stern, and it made something tingle inside you. Slowly getting up, you hesitantly walked the three steps till you were standing right in front of him. He took that as a green light, grabbing your thighs to pull you onto him. Your hands found perch on his shoulders while your legs fell on either side of his lap, spreading yourself open on top of him. He stared at you in amusement, watching you like a hawk about to consume its prey. Your body felt hot, and your cheeks were dusted with a deep red. You’ve never been this close to him before. Never been so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. His hands squeezing your hips. His erection twitched beneath you. “You ready to be proven wrong, Darling?”
You nodded before slipping out a quick breathy ‘yes’. You felt the couch shift and noticed out the corner of your eye that Steve had taken a seat next to you and Bucky. The younger however didn’t do anything, just stayed back and stared at what might unfold in front of him. Bucky placed his fingers against your chin, making your attention completely his. The grin he wore sent shivers down your spine, and the hand that danced so closely to your inner thigh made you want to roll your eyes back in pleasure. “So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m gonna place my two fingers on your clit through your sleep shorts and if I find it. I want you to moan my name. Can you do that Dollface?”
You blurted a ‘yes’ a little bit too quickly, but you couldn’t care. All you could think about was Bucky and him touching you. So without another moment, Buck brought his fingers to your inner thigh, hovering just where you need him. You could tell he was faking in “trying” to find your button. He knew where it was, but he wanted to watch you squirm a little bit first. And before you could mutter anything he place his fingers right on your clit making you gasp. “James.”
“Told you I could prove it.” His confidence radiated off him, rubbing your nub in little circle, making you thread your fingers in his loose shirt. Your hips were stuttering, begging to move, and your eyes were sewn shut, focusing on the pleasure alone.
“Hey, I wanna try.” Steve's deep voice tickled your ear, making your head snap over to him. You didn’t even get a chance to protest, even though you knew you wouldn’t, before wrapping his large arms around your waist and picking you up so he could place you on his lap. Your back was firmly against his chest, letting him shove his face in your neck. You felt his lips graze your hot skin, making you wiggle in his hold. “Let’s make this more fun.”
Steve's fingers hooked under your sleep shorts, making you freeze. Your eyes are glued to Buck's dark ones. They were blown out, watching you carefully with lust. You lifted your hips without saying anything, letting Steve take your shorts off, along with your panties. Your heart was racing at the thought they were both going to touch you, but your mind also wandered to the others in the house. Yes, they all might be sleeping, but any of them could walk in and see what the two men were doing to you. “S-Stevie pleasee.”
“Oh, Sugar, I haven’t even touched you yet.” He chuckled, making Bucky lowly laugh at your desperation. These boys had you wrapped around their fingers. Steve slid his hand up your thigh, spreading your legs wide so Bucky got a good view of your dripping cunt. You tried to close them, but Steve's strong grasp kept them still. You felt embarrassed being the only one basically naked, and on top of it being naked in front of two people you had a huge crush on. Neither of them seemed to mind one bit though, Bucky having the temptation to latch his lips on your soaked cunt while Steve wanted nothing more then to fuck you with his fingers until you were crying.
Actually now that he thinks about it, that sounds like the perfect idea.
“And 3…2…1” His finger pressed perfectly on your clit making you jump. “Gotcha.” Steve grins, licking a strip up your neck, placing kisses down on your shoulder blade. His fingers circle your clit furiously, causing a hiccup to spit out of you. Bucky took this moment to lay down on his stomach so he was face to face with your pussy. He slid his long hot tongue along your folds.
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Buckkyy. S-Stev―” Steve suddenly covered your mouth with his hand, hushing you from screaming. Your hips bucked, feeling Bucky slowly push a finger inside you. Your eyes sealed shut tight, feeling Steve's fingers on your clit, his lips biting and sucking all over your neck and Bucky's tongue lapping your juices up while he fucked you with his digits. It was like a sinful wet dream had come true and your mind was spinning at the thought.
“As much as we’d love to hear you scream our names. You better keep those pretty moans on the down-low doll. Otherwise, someone might hear us. And we won't want that now, do we.” Steve's deep voice grunted in your ear as you just nodded in response, losing yourself once again in the touch of both men. Tears start to prickle on the sides of your eyes as you felt your stomach tie itself in knots. You were so close to coming undone yet so fair as well. Your mind couldn’t take it anymore, and you needed more. You tried to speak, but your mouth was covered tightly. Bucky continued with his assault on your cunt, shoving another two fingers in while lapping up your cream all the while Steve had dressed you in his marks from the top of your neck to your back down your shoulder blade. His fingers never left your clit either.
“mm…mmm.” No matter how hard you tried to warn them something felt different about your high fast approaching. The large hand over your mouth made it ultimately useless. You bucked your hips moving in time with Bucky's fingers, feeling yourself begin to cry. And not cry like a few simply tears, no. You began to sob, feeling so overwhelmed and unable to communicate, made your mind shift into a place you had no idea existed. Your brain mushed, making you feel like you were floating. And only Steve and Bucky were around. You let go. Screaming a muffled whale, you squirted all over Bucky's face. Your tears stained Steve's hand while your nose began to drool. Once Buck helped you lessen your high, he sat up, taking a look at the mess you made.
“Awe princess. Look at this.” he gathered some of your cum and pushed it against Steve's lips. He sucked on the other male's finger with a groan making you cry even more. They both took notice of your tears and removed the hand over your mouth. You hiccuped, whimpering. Sobbing. Your fingers dug into the couch as Steve finally let you close your legs. Everything was happening all at once, and your body was aching from the awkward position. But you need your boys. You needed them to look after you.
“P-Please Sirs…I need more…” Your sweet high pitched voice caused both men to groan, feeling their cocks harden in their pants.
“Fuck Sugar. You okay?” Ste e tilted your head to the side so he could look at you. Your face was red, puffy and wet. “Pretty baby is crying. Did it feel that good?”
You couldn’t find a response in your fuzzy brain, so instead, you kissed him. Steve's eyes grew wide for a second, not thinking you’d kiss him. But who is he to complain when your lips were so soft and kissable. Cupping your face, he deepened the kiss, making you shake. He pulled away first, letting your catch your breath, but you did see it like that suddenly sitting up you got on all fours so you could reach, Bucky who was leaning on the other end of the couch. Your face was inches from his but didn’t move until he placed his fingers on your chin.
The kiss was desperate and rough. Bucky's fingers raked through your hair before tugging at it, making your hips wiggle, which conveniently made your bare ass jiggle in front of Steve. Now, saying Steev was an ass man was an understatement. This man lives for asses, and your ass was definitely one of the prettiest ones he's ever seen. He gave a harsh slap, sending a loud clap echoing through the room. Your moan was swallowed by Bucky, letting him shove his tongue deep down your throat. Steve kept slapping your bare cheeks, finding pleasure in seeing his hand prints appear on your soft skin.
“Hey, punk if we keep going I might have to fuck her,” Steve said so casually as if neither of them were tainting your idea of pleasure permanently. Bucky pulled away making you chase his lips.
“I think we need to end it otherwise we’d both be fucking her. And I don’t think we have the time.” Bucky chuckled, leaning back to place his arms on either side of the couch, tilting his head back with a sigh. Steve rubbed your ass, helping you sit up back to lean against his chest. His hands danced around your hips snaked up your shirt noticing you weren’t wearing a bra.
“Too bad, we didn’t get to play with these yet.” Steve cupped your breasts, squeezing them harshly. Your eyes never left Bucky's form. He tilted his head up briefly to watch Steve's hands play with your covered tits. You bit your lip, lifting your shirt up so he could see Steve’s assault.
“Fuck,” Bucky groaned wanting nothing more than to have those tits in his mouth. He sighed shaking his head before standing up to pick up your shorts and panties up. “Come on sweet thing, let’s get you to bed.”
You whined at the idea of having to end such a pleasurable ordeal. But sadly, they were right. You had no clue how long you’d been at this, and if your brother were to wake up, there would be hell to pay. You take your clothes from Bucky, putting them back on while Steve helped you stand. Your breathing was heavy, and your legs were on godly wobbly, but Steve's hard, strong arms kept you up. Once dressed, you looked up to Bucky, seeing a sweeter, less lustful smile on his features. He stood so close while Steve stood flush behind you. They were effectively sandwiching you. Bucky gave you a long, drawn-out kiss before guiding your face with his fingers on your chin to Steve, letting the other man seal his lips against your own. It felt so natural to be shared by them. And they felt the same. It was like one fluid motion. Comfort. And you were hating that it was ending. Once Steve pulled away, you looked back at Bucky, getting ready to wish them a good night. Until he said ;
“Don’t worry Doll. This isn’t over yet. Our fun is only beginning.”
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ghosts-and-glory · 24 days
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Just curious!
In your AU, does Narinder have to openly come out as trans, or is it just generally understood even early on that he was trans?
If he does have a coming out, who do you think he told first? What were his siblings initial reactions?
How old do you think Narinder would have been when he realized?
When did the lamb learn? Was it common knowledge by then? Did they effectively look up at their God and go "ayo, nice battle scars, sick as fuck, anyway" and move on?
Also are we gonna see more little Narinder, and what got him all fucked up?
I am so invested in your story, but this aspect in specific I am latched onto like a tick. You cannot get rid of me. I am THIRSTY for knowledge.
Additionally, if in some hypothetical, little child Narinder met a young Lamb, do you think they would have been friends?
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Totally not based on the time my brother came out to me and because I have the emotional bandwidth of a sea cucumber was just like “okay, cool.”
I’d say he’s around 12-14. In my heart Nari was one of those trans kids who the second he had the slightest understanding of gender was like “something ain’t right here chief.”
Fighting for my life trying to find a way to colour doodles in a way that doesn’t take ten years or look like shit.
More ramblings under the cut.
My Lamb is also non-binary so it’s not much of a deal to them. Dying on my casual trans rep hill. I don’t care if it’s not period accurate, I simply choose not to recognize transphobia.
Narinder gets slowly poisoned through his life. For the other Bishops, chaos, famine, disease and war will all eventually end in death, and dead men can’t worship. As a god of death he is to preach the glory and beauty of dying but, ironically, can’t die himself. He feels at odds with his family and trapped by life and this mentality slowly warps his view of the world and destroys him over hundreds of years.
Simply put he allows toxicity to pour and warp over toxicity. He lets it twist and compound his mind and it happens so slowly no one notices.
For the Lamb and Narinder theoretically meeting as children I honestly haven’t through much on how I’d characterize The Lamb as a child. My heart wants to say yes they would get along. My source is I made it the fuck up.
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escelia · 1 year
Text
This is a follow-up/one-shot based on the fic I wrote here, which was based on the prompt by @ghostreblogging
I'm really having fun with Big Brother Danny AU~ big thanks to everyone taking the time to read it!
Not So Normal
Daniel Fenton-Wayne had been with the family for a while now. To say that he was odd would be an injustice because he wasn't really. At least, not compared to the rest of the costume wearing vigilante family. Danny was a civilian, albeit a strange one. Danny and Damian were close in age, and everyone could tell that Danny wanted to be a good big brother; he'd never had the chance to before. The strangeness came in when Damian brandished his many weapons toward Danny, and he... caught him mid launch. Just snatched the little bird out of the air for a hug. Damian had thought he was putting up a fight, but it was clear that Danny wasn't struggling. He seemed so casually unbothered by Damian's behavior, but he was normal, ya know?
Damian sneers and waves his fork menacingly at Danny during dinner?
"He's fine! He's like, what, 10 years old?"
Damian growled that he was clearly 12 and threw himself over the table at him.
Damian threatens him with his swords?
"Damian! No!"
"Nooooo! Don't discourage him! He might lose interest!" And even as the rest of the family assured him that that would be a good thing, he handed Damian the blade and asked if lessons were on the table so Damian could have a "competent sparring partner." He still tried to stab Danny after that.
As concerning as it always was when Damian tried to stab someone, they were all relieved that Daniel seemed to be able to handle the demon brat better than most. Eventually the baby bird would warm up to him and stop stabbing him so often, but until then, Danny could handle himself.
~~~~○•○•○~~~~
Let it be known that Damian did not have a favorite brother! They were all imbeciles with poor taste in humor and mediocre fighting skills. That being said, Danny did have a leg up over the others for inquiring about sword lessons to improve his fighting prowess, even if he was already surprisingly adequate for a civilian. Well, that and other things that Danny had admitted only to him in the months he'd been with the family. It was strange being the one he confided in, but he felt a sort of pride that, even though he'd tried to stab Daniel, he was still the one he went to when he needed to talk about stuff he hadn't told the others. So perhaps it wasn't that surprising that when he'd gotten in trouble, Danny was the one Damian called for.
Patrol that night had been boring and quiet. Too quiet. Way too quiet for Gotham, which meant that something bad was brewing. Batman had handed Robin off to Nightwing for the night while he poured over all the reports and data from the last few weeks to figure out what the rogues of Gotham could have planned. Nightwing was ashamed to say that the Joker had gotten the jump on them. He'd tied the two up, leaving their comms on so the rest of the bats could hear all of the terrible things Joker had planned for them. He included terrible reminders of how he'd murdered Jason and how he couldn't wait to pluck the wings from Batman's other birdies. Damian wanted to rip his throat out for that, but he was in no shape to fight. His family was in danger, so he called out to the only other person he trusted.
"DANIEL!" Damian screamed long and loud for his brother, the plea surging forth from deep in his chest. Dick looked horror stricken that his baby brother had called out for the one member of the family that wasn't a vigilante, painting a huge target on his back. But even as he could hear the commotion coming through the comms and see the panicked look on Dick's face, he called for Danny again. His brother would help. He would come!
The room's temperature dropped in an instant, their panting, panicked breaths fogging the air while the lights flickered. The Joker paused in his maniacal laughter to observe the Lazarus green pool forming on the ground between him and the birds. Frost and ice cracked through the concrete of the warehouse as a head of white hair with a crown of crystalline ice rose through the small pit and the Joker's veins flooded with dread at the too wide, too sharp smile on the thing's face.
"Don't worry, I'm here. You're safe," he cooed comfortingly back to Damian, his voice an otherworldly echo in the large space. "But you?" He gestured to the Joker with claw-like fingers. "Well, let's just say, I've been d̵͔̦̩̒̒̊ẙ̴̧͓͕̺ḯ̸͖̪͔n̶͉͛g̵̻̾͒͜ to get my hands on you."
It happened so fast that no one really knew if the Joker screamed or not. In one moment, the boy's body had morphed into a cloud of inky black scattered with what looked like honest to God stars that smothered the Joker, and in the next, he was gone. The being who, upon closer inspection, definitely looked like Danny if he had white hair and green eyes and was a literal Eldritch creature, was untying them with care.
"Danny?" Dick questioned. He acknowledged him with a quick nod before turning back to Damian, the one who had called.
"You came," the youngest mumbled.
"You called," Danny answered with a soft smile. "Did you think that I wouldn't?"
"No. I knew that you would. You're not incompetent like the others."
"You guys heard that, right? That was definitely a compliment!"
Damian huffed but sagged in relief once he and Dick were both untied.
"You- you're-" Dick stumbled over his words in astonishment. "Danny, you're a meta?"
"Technically, it's a medical condition, but details," he responded, waving off the rest of the question with a cheeky smile.
In Nightwing's ear Bruce asked to speak with Danny. He removed the earpiece and tapped Danny's arm with it, gesturing to his ear. The "meta" slid it on just in time to hear his adoptive father shout.
"We will be talking about this as soon as everyone gets home safe, am I understood!"
"Loud and clear, boss man!"
"Let it be known that I knew something was weird about Danny!" He heard Jason exclaim. "No offense man."
"None taken, my Revenant sibling mine."
"Where did the Joker even go?" Someone over the comms asked. Danny thought it was Steph.
"I sent him to clown jail. I hate clowns. I've literally never met one that hasn't tried to kill me or my family."
Upon learning that the Joker wasn't the first homicidal clown that their, before now, seemingly normal brother had met, the comms erupted into chaos. Danny tossed the earpiece back to Nightwing before whisking them away back to the cave under the manor. He had a lot of explaining to do.
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javarium · 5 months
Text
quiet kisses | r. sukuna
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prompt 2 — “I’ll kiss you anywhere but under the mistletoe.”
requested by @yuujispinkhair :: Heyyy babe, your Christmas prompt post is so cute 💗💗 If you feel inspired, can you please write a little something for Sukuna + prompt 2 or prompt 7 (whichever you prefer)? 💗💗
a/n: AHHHH thank you so much for sending this in Winter! 🤩 I can’t tell you how much I nearly exploded seeing your request in my inbox! I went with prompt 2 because that’s the one my brain started working for the fastest. I hope you like it and I did your request justice :3
w — alcohol mention, fluff, everyone is 20+ in this fic, modern AU, mentions of prompt 7 heehee, softie! sukuna, sukuna cooks at the end lmao but it’s not related to the chef! sukuna fic
[ Christmas Prompt List ]
[ Christmas Event Masterlist ]
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Nobara putting on this Christmas party was anything but unexpected. She was a party girl at heart, but nothing like what you’d see at a frat house or a club. No, she was the party master (or so she likes to call herself). And you kinda had to agree. Her parties weren’t over the top, but they definitely were anything but boring.
This time was no different: catering, along pizza and wine delivery, along with some of the more higher-rated Christmas movies playing on the TV with English Christmas music playing on the background, just loud enough that it wasn’t obnoxious.
You knew your boyfriend had to agree, even if he hated attending social events and parties.
What an introvert, you muse to yourself. You wonder how many people realize that as much as Sukuna seems like it, he doesn’t actually like parties. Nor anyone but himself and you at said parties.
You and Sukuna are off to the side against the bar that separates the kitchen and living area, deep in your own little world of each other. You’re leaning on him, his big arm wrapped around your shoulders comfortably.
You nudge him. “This isn’t so bad. See!”
Sukuna scoffs. “That’s what you said when you forced me into that Santa costume last year.”
“But you had some fun, didn’t you?”
“In the suit? No. Terrorizing children in it? Absolutely.”
You slap his chest. He catches your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. You grumble. “You idiot.”
“Your idiot,” he remarks with a grin.
Suddenly, like magic, the party suddenly gets loud. Jingle Bells comes on the playlist set up, and everyone has begun to sing as loud as they possibly can. Sukuna grumbles and plugs one ear with a finger, rolling his eyes. He keeps on ear open, and you know it’s just to listen to you as you attempt to sing your way through the giggles.
When the song ends, everyone cheers. Sukuna unplugs his one ear and sighs, taking another sip of the hot chocolate you’ve made for him. They all quiet down, giggling and giddy from the sudden excitement of the old but catchy tune.
But why is everyone now looking at his and your direction?
And then everyone starts chanting: “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
You and Sukuna look up at the same time, seeing a mistletoe being hung over your heads by a fishing rod, but none other than the Party Master herself. Nobara grins sadistically with an evil glint in her eye.
Sukuna cusses and downs the rest of his drink before saying, “I think that’s our cue to leave. Nice party, Kugisaki.”
You attempt to down the rest of yours before he grabs your hand with his bigger one and leads you out the front door, almost stumbling over your own two feet.
Behind you, everyone complains about Sukuna being a “party pooper” and leaving. Before you two leave, he turns back to them and gives them the finger.
“It wouldn’t be so bad if we weren’t the only couple here. Maybe Geto and Gojo should finally shack up,” Sukuna says with an evil grin. The two men next to each other go redder than tomatoes in record time. Sukuna isn’t done though, looking at his little brother. “And maybe you and Fushiguro should finally get a room, too, baby brother.”
The chaos from your boyfriend’s words gives you the chance to leave without trouble, the two unspoken couples now being the main attention of Kugisaki’s evil fishing rod-mistletoe.
Maybe they’ll be together come New Years, you think happily.
Sukuna drives you both home. One hand on the wheel, the other intertwined sweetly with yours. But by the time you get home, you’re halfway asleep in the car, hot cocoa being the perpetrator of your tiredness. You attempt to blink and wake up, but Sukuna’s gruff, “Stay put.” halts you as he turns the car off, keeping his keys in one hand.
You have no idea what he’s doing until he opens your door and slides his arms under your back and legs. You squeal and giggle as he effortlessly picks you up from your seat.
“Goddamn, you got the giggles tonight,” he mutters.
Like he’s done it a thousand times (he’s at least done it a couple dozen), Sukuna unlocks the front door with you in his arms with pure ease. He carries you over the threshold like a husband would his bride and doesn’t set you down. He hoists you up, readjusting your position closer to his chest. And then you see the cunning look in his eyes.
“Sukuna, what are you— mmph!”
He dips his head and captures your lips with his. He’s warm, so warm and comforting. You feel so safe and loved in his hold and damn do you love him. Your arms naturally tighten their hold around his neck as you two kiss in your home.
When Sukuna pulls away, he chuckles. You’re slightly breathless from the sudden kiss, but grinning nonetheless.
“You couldn’t do that at the party?” you inquire curiously.
“I’ll kiss you anywhere but under the mistletoe,” he replies honestly. “Especially at a party in front of people. Not my thing to make such an intimate spectacle of ourselves.”
Your heart flutters and overflows with love at his desire to keep his affection solely for your eyes to see. Sukuna has never been one to kiss or do intimate things in public beyond hand holding or wrapping his arm around your shoulders. For him, he considers that to be sacred; any acts of love he prefers to be behind closed doors, kept between the two of you and not in front of people to be fawned over or talked about.
“You really are the sweetest man I’ve ever met,” you say. “I’m so lucky. I really got the best man ever, didn’t I? Thanks, Universe.”
Your boyfriend’s cheeks tint red. A rare sight.
“Fuck. No, I’m the lucky one.” Sukuna gives you a fat smooch on the lips, the adds, “But I don’t have the universe to thank. I got you all by myself.”
You toss your head back and laugh at his indirect proclamation of arrogance. Or maybe it was just unshakable confidence, who knows?
Sukuna sets you down on the couch and asks, “What do you want for dinner?”
You think for a moment before replying, “Didn’t you say wanted to make some penne vodka the other day? That sounds good.”
“Penne alla vodka,” he corrects you with a stern eye.
You toss your hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry.”
But as Sukuna gets to work on the dish, you can’t help but stare at him as he works. He could be a master chef like Gordon Ramsey, if not better. But you’re kinda glad he’s not, not if you get to see him in your kitchen every night.
Yeah, you’d trade any party and PDA for his quiet kisses and love at home any day.
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taglist:
@vagabond-umlaut | @poe-daydreams | @heresan @thedovahqueen | @lotus-n-l0ve | @chiyoso | @miraclecherryblossomsblog | @unbreakableblueheaven | @marscatbutler | @vanillabloo | @wo-ming-bai | @visionsofmagic | @tohsri | @lilacliliess | @bub-ss | @missmuffinr
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