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#I HEARD IT LOUD AND CLEAR IN MY HEAD
ninyard · 18 days
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redafi · 2 years
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sometimes you just have to chug water like itll wash away your mistakes
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kentopedia · 7 months
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ LOOK, MOM! — nanami kento
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yuuji accidentally calls you mom
contents: nanami x fem!reader, husband nanami hehe, this is very silly and random and stupid, fluff, nanami & reader are yuuji's adoptive parents fr, words: 1059
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“nanamin!” yuuji waves at the figure approaching from behind you, a flashy grin appearing on his face as he glances at the blonde man over your shoulder. “i didn’t know you were coming by today!”
kento's hair sweeps over his forehead in the wind, a few strands coming free as he heads towards you. it's a brisk day, and he has two hot coffees in his hands that he'd picked up after his mission.
a bead of sweat drips down yuuji's temple, and he wipes it with his sleeve, still breathing heavily. you'd spent the last hour training together, pushing his physical capabilities. gojo had been busy recently, between all the missions and his conversations with the higher ups.
so, of course, you'd volunteered to teach the newest student when he couldn't. quickly, he became your favorite of the three first years.
“i’m in between assignments.” kento hands you the coffee, places a gentle hand on your lower back with a smile that is hardly there. “mind if i steal my wife away for a bit?”
yuuji shrugs, his face still bright as he glances between the two of you. ever since he’d found out two of his favorite sorcerers were together, he’d hardly shut up about it.
“no problem. i’m going to meet up with fushiguro anyway.” he brushes the dirt off his pants, waving to the two of you.
“good job today, yuuji!” grateful for something to warm you up in the chilly air, you take a sip of the coffee. it’s perfect, as always, just what you needed. “you’re improving a lot!”
he grins, proud of his accomplishments. “thanks, mom! see you later!”
there's an elongated moment of silence.
you choke on your coffee as kento stiffens beside you, watching while yuuji comes to a skittering halt.
all three of you freeze. you cough, clearing your throat, and kento's hand, steady on your back, has stilled. “yuuji—“
“oh,” the teenager says, his face turning bright red as he realizes what he’s called you. he glances between the two of you, embarrassment evident. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to—“
though, you don’t give yuuji enough time to protest. within seconds, you’ve gathered him up in your arms, squeezing the younger boy to your chest. “kento, we have a son!”
you feel yuuji tense, before he relaxes, and throws his arms around you in an even tighter hug. there’s some sort of thanks resting there. he laughs, carefree, a sound you never want to be taken away from the boy who manages to shine so brightly in such a dark world.
kento stares at you, folds his glasses up in his pocket, as if to show you both how unimpressed he is. “do we?” he asks, lips flat, though, you see through the facade to the amusement hidden in his irises. “i'm certain i would’ve remembered something like that.”
you make a face at him, covering yuuji’s ears dramatically. “oh, don’t listen to your dad, yuuji. he’s old, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.”
kento blinks, and then sighs, wrinkling his nose. though, when he sees yuuji’s wide grin, his eager expression, he decides to play along.
“well, then... there must be a lapse in my memory." kento crosses his arms over his chest as he regards the two of your extensively, searching for something. "that would certainly explain the striking resemblance between us.” he says drily.
yuuji laughs, a loud snort. he looks nothing like either of you, but you’re not sure he’s ever gotten to witness kento's sarcastic sense of humor, the one that not everyone really gets.
“exactly!” yuuji quips back to kento’s blank expression. "everyone tells me i have the same smile as my dad!
kento’s trying hard not to let yuuji win that one, but you can see the slight wrinkle around his eye, the tiny quirk of his lips. beside the pink haired boy, you choke out a few giggles, covering your mouth.
“yes," kento nods, solemn. "i’ve heard that as well.”
"so you do know how to make jokes, nanamin!" yuuji shouts, nearly jumping in the air as he cheers. "i can't wait to tell fushiguro this."
kento rolls his eyes, but yuuji’s so pleased, and he releases you, his eyes soft and bright as he pulls away.
though he doesn’t say it, doesn't thank you for anything, you can tell he’s grateful. itadori yuuji may be happy with his life as it is now, may have found a home within the friends he’s made at the high school, but you know he misses his grandfather. sometimes, perhaps, he even longs for the conventional family he never really got to have.
you ruffle his hair, the pink strands catching between the cracks of your fingers. “tell him i said hello too.”
yuuji nods, stuffing his hands in his pocket as he steps away. “i will!” his cheerful gaze is pinned on your husband, a secretive smile making a home on his lips. “bye, dad.”
kento shakes his head, and sighs again, though you can tell, a part of him is touched to have won so much of yuuji's admiration. “have a good evening, itadori.”
you watch the young boy scurry away, hands in his pockets as he braces himself against the cold.
"you should be nicer to your son, kento."
kento snorts, throwing an arm over your shoulder as he brings you closer to him. "i am nice to him," he says, kissing your temple softly. "a little hard on him, maybe, but i just don't want anything bad to happen to him."
you soften, look up at him with warm eyes, and you squeeze the hand that is resting on your shoulder. "i know," you say, your heart clenching. you've thought about it before, thought of kento with a tiny child that looks just like him, cradled against his chest. thought of him with a little girl whose hair he can braid, a little boy he can raise to be a gentleman.
but you hadn't talked about it; you'd always thought your life was too busy, too dangerous for children.
"you'd make a good dad, ken," you say, your cheeks flushed as you grin at him.
kento's eyes flash. "really?" an array of emotions scurries across his features before he leans down, kissing you softly. "is this your way of telling me you want a baby, sweetheart?" his voice deepens as he whispers against your lips, smiling. "because i'm more than happy to give you one."
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screampied · 14 days
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໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ FREAK LIKE MEEE ! ’﹒
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𐚁̸ sum. jjk men kinks and their kinks/fetishizes . feat. gojo, toji, sukuna, nanami, choso.
warnings. fem! reader, unprotected sēx, edging, praise, degradation, sir kink, semi-public sēx, hair pulling, edging, overstim, mentions of breēding, blindfolds, dry humping, spīt kink, mdni.
𐚁̸ an. requested by anon
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☆ NANAMI KENTO.
“ah—you’ve got some nerve,” nanami would pant. he’s got you right where he wants you. you’re leaned over his desk, ogling as he starts to realign himself. “it’s like you just misbehave on purpose, sweetheart,” and his voice was silky warm, tender. you moan once he lifts up your skirt yet again—you’re sopping wet, a dampened patch coats the middle part of your panties. “have you been touching yourself?”
“n—no,” you purr out, although it was clear as day that you were purely lying. he could tell, nanami was a lot of things but he wasn’t an idiot. you felt so feverish, the head of his thick cock spilts inside of your cunt and you whimper out. throughout the office, all that could be heard was the faint sounds of his fax machine and the lewd squelches your sweet cunt sings out in pure harmony. this was so risky, yet you loved every second—you craved more, the thought that one of his colleagues could walk in or hear the two of you made you ten times more soaked. “yes,” you correct yourself, gnawing on your lip before you feel a sudden restraint on your hands.
nanami inhales deeply, a low groan departing from his lips before he grabs both of your wrists. “such a messy girl. can’t even finish my shift,” and he yanks his tie from his attire. nanami then swiftly ties your wrists against your back with his tie, fully buried into your cunt. he leans up close, so close—a hand gently wrapping around your throat. “gotta break this pussy before i get any work done, ‘s that what you’re telling me, my love?”
“y—yesss,” you whine out with strained lungs, before he starts to vigorously quicken his pace. relentlessly, he starts to take you over his desk. with parted legs, you moan out in sheer ecstasy. your pencil skirt was lazily pulled up to your waist. with the skirt a bit wrinkled because of his grip he makes your arch go further for him whilst pulling you closer against him. “harder, fuck me harder, kento.”
“baby, this is a place of business,” he chortles, a sharp angle of his hips makes you feel all of him. so thick— the stretch was godly, making your eyes widen and your lips quaver. so fucking big. his base thwacks against you so sloppily, swollen balls filled up with so much that your heart own mouth salivates at the thought of it flooding inside of you. “when you’re in my office, it’s ‘sir,’ okay?”
you purposely don’t reply— he gifts your ass with a spank, making you whimper out as a response.
“yes s-sir,” you moan, the sharp sting making you jolt forward against the edge of the wooden desk. your words were so candied, so sweet..
with the way your cunt constricts around his hefty length—you were emitting out such various moans for him. so loud, nanami can’t help but press himself up against you even more and move a hand to go over your mouth. “m-mphhh.”
“any louder ‘n they’re gonna here you, gorgeous,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. nanami even goes as far to licking against your earlobe, sending shivers all through you. each slow languid stroke continues to get more deeper, pretty soon you start to coat the entirety of his palm with your slick saliva. “you want my boss to hear what a messy girl you are in my office?”
he chuckles, watching you slowly nod in reply as he’s jackhammering his thick cock into you again, and again, and again. so repetitive, by this point you’re all cock drunk.
“but silly girl, you’re not supposed to want that,” and his strokes become slow yet deep—he reaches everywhere inside of your stretchy walls with ease. nanami groans at how good your pussy keeps him hostage. his voice was so abnormally low too, all up against your ear. a hand of his trails down your spine , your wrists still behind your back. “but of course you do, my wife can’t help but be a little messy for me, huh? she just can’t help it, all she thinks about is me bending her over my desk— oh, you sloppy girl. drooling all on my hand.”
his hand removes from your mouth and you’re moaning at each of his languidly deep hits. “gonna c-cum, ‘m gonna cum, kento.”
“ah ah,” he mutters, spreading your legs just a bit further. the heels you wore sunk into the floor as your mouth pries open even more. loud moans ring and reverberate throughout the room before you correct yourself.
“sir . . sir, ‘m gonna cum,” you swallow thickly, feeling him shove such thick inches in and out of you. your lungs fill up with heavy oxygen, you whimper as your head leans against the front surface of his desk. a scatter of papers going against your skin. briefly, all you could see was random markings of paperwork with neat writing, his familiar signature throughout all of them. “can i cum s-sir? pleasepleasepleaseeee.”
nanami hums, soft padded fingertips gliding against your hips as he holds you in place— he’s so deep inside, the tip of his cock kisses and mashes against your g-spot for the nth time before he groans out. “go ahead, make a mess on my desk, sweetheart. make a mess so i can make you clean up for me,” and you’re basically being rammed against the furniture, hot breaths pouring through your lips before you gasp. simultaneously, you cum—coating nothing but a pretty white ring around his shaft, his thrusts coming to a slow halt before he pauses. “. . oh,” he tilts his head back, at a lost of words for a second.
you hear the dangle of his belt from his pulled down slacks before he smiles, witnessing as you lose yourself completely—so lewd, you’re convulsing and twitching on his cock, whining for him to keep going before he tugs on your wrist. “good girl, such a good girl,” and he chuckles, watching you spread your legs open more, awaiting for him to continue. “aw, is the messy baby not satisfied?” and he’s so close up to you, his breath fans against the minuscule hairs of your neck before he’s buried so deep. you feel every inch, his hand wraps around your throat once more before he purrs in a low voice once you shake your head. “no? welllll that’s too bad,” and his voice was smooth as silk. it lowers a bit and you whine once he suddenly pulls out. “sorry, my love. not during business hours. this is all you’ll get from me,” and he turns you around to kiss your forehead, smirking at your little pout. “don’t be like that, i love you too, brat.”
☆ SUKUNA RYŌMEN
more than anything, he’s just simply into spanking your pussy.
without question—he’d have you right on his lap, preferably where he’s taking a seat on his high and mighty throne. the king of curses, occupying himself with his favorite pussy girl.
“oh my, such an impatient woman,” he’d coo up against your ear. the soft fabric of his kimono rubs off amongst your skin and you whine once you feel him spread your thighs open. “now let’s see if you’re as wet as i remember,” he whispers in a gruff tone—you’re rightfully soaked, the minute his fingers skim against your panties, he’s greeted with a sopping wet coat of your arousal. sukuna hums in amusement, watching you squirm and wriggle within his hold. “how cute,” he’d snicker, dipping a single digit into your folds. you lean back against his chest, biting on your lip before moaning out. one finger turns into two—sukuna then swirls it around before continuing to speak. “did you touch her while i was away? and don’t lie, this pussy will answer for me if you don’t, girl.”
“no—” you reply in a shuddering tone, his fingers were so long, creating a circular repetitive motion inside of your cunt before he collects a good amount of your sweetness. it sticks against his fingers the more he rummages throughout your pussy. “i didn’t touch myself, ‘kuna. promise.”
“. . . who?” he furrows his brows, abruptly pulling out his fingers before gifting your wet pussy with a mean spank. “who the fuck is ‘kuna? that’s not my name, princess.”
you whimper out, the sting feeling so good. he was purely teasing—you knew that, and your legs shook a bit solely from the impact. you bite your tongue before feeling your thighs struggle to keep themselves open. “s-sukuna?”
“tch. foolish woman,” he grumbles, sharply bringing more spanks towards your cunt. you’re so wet, dripping with so much slick that he starts to get addicted. your body language was adorable. each time he spanks it time and time again, the back of your head rubs against his chest. it makes him snicker, playfully pinching your clit just to make you sob out another melodic moan. “when it’s just you ‘n me, you’re on my lap ‘n i’m dealing with a pussy this wet, it’s ’my lord’ to you, know your place.”
with a pout, you rub against his wrist. having a little brat left in you, you purr out a, “but sukuna-”
“whore. i know you heard what the fuck i said,” he grits, giving you another spank. yet he then realizes you said that on purpose, just to make him spank your sopping wet cunt again. it feels so good, you feel hot everywhere—a sensation of tingles own throughout your body before sukuna’s palm caresses against your exposed womanhood. “freaky girl. you like that, huh? like feeling my hand hit against this nasty little mess?”
you nod, the smoothness of his hand sending you shivers before you feel the nerves buried inside of your pussy throb at full force.
so so good, another whimper wretches from your throat before you squeeze onto his knee. “course ya do. can’t help but be a nasty girl,” he grunts, and he shoves his thick slenderly fingers back inside your cunt. you swallow him so good—he groans, feeling the warmth of your pussy suffocate his digits oh so easily. “my nasty girl.”
his words only makes your pool a heat grow even more, your throat feels all dry—yet you’re starting to feel yourself salivate. with his fingers and the rapid speed of it, you could cum in just minutes. seconds even if he was feeling frisky. your legs were all sprawled out and you were just seeing colors— the way his fingers simultaneously curl up inside your folds was so filthy.
“just look at this mess,” he snarls, softly burying his fangs into his neck—a classic lip bite. as you’re laid against him, he feels his dick start to twitch in his briefs. you were so cute, trembling all from nothing but his simple touch. his words were filled with such lewdness, each time his digits rummage through your cunt, that same pop noise commences. so wet, you were in the midst of approaching your climax. it came at such a speed, your thighs shook and your jaw was practically hanging open.
it’s coming, it’s coming..
those exact words kept echoing into your brain, pant after pant departing from your lips before you whine.
“suku—m-my lorddd,” and once you correct yourself, he again pulls out his fingers covered in your sheeny slick before spanking your cunt. “oh, ohmygodddd, ‘m gonna c-cum, feel it coming, p-please.”
“what if i don’t want you to cum yet?” he teases, dragging his middle finger down your slit. by this point, your legs were a mess—shaking so strenuously that it brought jagged earthquakes to shame. the rupture that was about to take place was reaching at such a speed that even you couldn’t keep up. his warm breath fans against your earlobe before he lightly bites into your neck. “what if i want you to wait a little lo—”
“s-sukuna, sukuna, fuuuck,” you whine out, not even caring you broke character— it finally came, and not only did you climax but you ended up squirting. it shot out and he goes quiet, a devilish snicker shortly following afterward.
instantly, a crying orgasm gets tugged from your throat and you whine once he plugs his fingers back into your slick folds.
“. . awww,” he purrs seductively against your ear, watching as you lose yourself right on his lap. your legs fail to remain still, you were seeing pure splotches of white. your stomach seizes as you resume to breathe, heavy breaths snatching from your throat before you rub against his wrist for the umpteenth time. “you made a mess on my lap, naughty girl,” and then he chuckles once you pick up his hand only to make him continue to feel against your pussy. “should make you get on your knees ‘n clean it. like the good obedient girl you are. my little squirter girl.”
☆ CHOSO KAMO.
choso craves dry humping, he’s a needy baby. doesn’t even want you to strip your clothes off. he just needs you, no, he wants you.
“i missed you too, choso,” you’d giggle, feeling him wrap his strong broad arms around you. he was so warm, immediately as you walk through the door, you feel him press up against you. his scent, he smelled so good— it goes through your sinuses before you gasp once he makes you bend over the counter. “heh, baby. i can’t shower first?”
“. . . wait,” is all he says, his voice shakes as he brings clammy hands towards your hips. hitched breaths slip from his mouth as he whines, suppressing a few moans by sucking against your neck. such tender skin, he feels so hot and dizzy. choso’s wearing nothing but sweats. as you’re hunched over the kitchen counter, you feel the imprint of his exhilarated dick galvanize against your shorts. “i missed you all day today,” and his voice—although it being low, it was so sweet and genuine. a hint of want and desire runs underneath it and he makes your hips slowly grind against him. “sososo bad,” he swallows, the teeth shattering friction making cute whimpers elicit out from his sheeny spit-glossed lips. “i want you, i want you, can we—can i do this?”
you let off a small laugh. “can you what, hump me? why not just fuck me, baby. i’ll just—”
“no, nooo please,” he murmurs in a shaky voice, stopping you from pulling down your shorts. “this is fine, i don’t want you to . . to take off your clothes. i just . . i want you, i want you like this.”
you can’t help but feel your pussy twitch at his words, not just his words but his entire deliver of it all. “go ahead, baby,” you mutter in a soft encouraging voice, grabbing onto the edge of the cold counter. you could have sworn you heard a sweet cacophonies of ‘thank you, thank you’s’ escape past his lips.
he’s so needy, trembling breaths waft against your skin as he’s making your ass go up on him. with two hands, he grabs the mounds of your rear before giving it a slight teasing squeeze.
“babyyy,” he whimpers, gently seeping his teeth into your neck. softly, he sucks against the skin, feeling a little mark press into your skin from his canines. “god, i want you so bad. you feel so good against me like this, s-so warm,” and his words almost sound angelic. you giggle, starting to move against his sweatpants as he holds your waist. “yeah, keep doing that. f-fuck against me, please,” and your rhythm was slow but steady. you can feel his bulge press up against your shorts, he was big.
you only imagine how he’d feel from the inside— not just grinding against him, although you weren’t relatively complaining. not at all, the friction felt way too good. even you started to moan a bit once he makes the swerving of your hips pick up just a bit faster.
choso gasps—once your ass brushes up a particular spot, he whines. “o-oh fuck,” and you’re curious as to what happened—but instead of saying anything, he just starts to hump against you harder. “f-fuck, fuck, ‘m so hard. gonna make me cum through my p-pants, baby fuuuck.”
he became more and more vocal as the minute passes—you were feeling the heat brew up, not only against your ass but into the very depths of your abdomen too. choso’s usual pent up hair was down, going all in his face and he moans at your next few words. “it’s okay, baby. you can make a mess on me. cum for me, ‘cho.”
“your voice alone ‘s gonna make me a messy boy,” he whimpers out, feeling the brief twinge— the strain of his cock making him kiss his teeth in pleasure. “gonna c-cum, gonna cum,” he chants, and his voice was getting raspier and raspier. you swerve your ass against him ever more before seconds later—you feel a sudden damp spot.
choso grows quiet, looking down to see the slowly darkening spot coat against the grey fabric of his sweats. “hngh,” he pants, holding you still. you giggle, facing forward and it’s almost as if you can feel his eyes stare down your back. “this is the f-fifth time i ruined my sweats you bought me, baby.” he pouts, now wanting to feel the real thing—being inside of you, falling in love with the warmth of your pussy burying inside of him yet again.
“i’ll wash it for you,” you hum, turning around to finally face him. he’s so cute— flustered entirely, despite it just being dry humping, it might as well pass as simple doggystyle for choso. you stroke his cheek, bringing a kiss towards the side of his lips before his mouth twitches. adorable. “you wanna join me in the shower, baby?”
“o-oh, yes please,” he nods, and he grabs onto your hand. “can we . . can we do this in the shower too?”
you sneer, intertwining your fingers with his as he leads the way. “yeah, but this time with our clothes off okay?”
“okay.”
“good boy.”
“m-mhm.”
☆ GOJO SATORU.
gojo likes to be tied up and restrained—blindfolded even, he loves it all.
“mhm, make it tight too baby,” he teasingly says, lowering his voice purposefully. you’re straddling him, feeling his dick bury inside of you idly before you shoot him a glare. he rolls his eyes once you successfully wrap the blindfold around his eyes, then proceeding to tie up his wrists. “hehe, i’m only letting you do this because i’m bored, just so y’know.”
“shut up,” you mumble, flicking him back. he lands against the pillow and that same sly grin never leaves his face. gojo’s impatient— albeit, the downside would be that he wouldn’t be able to touch you. that thought alone brings a pout to his face. “are you ready now? or do i need to hold your hand.”
gojo giggles. “ooh, someone’s sassy today. i like that,” and he feels your hips starting to move. his hands were stretched out against the bed and he grunts once he feels your warmth hug him tight like a vice. “i let you get away with hah anything.”
“yeah you do,” you whisper, watching as he moves his head around a bit at the sound of your voice—he’s so hot, his entire body temperature rises up the more you grind your hips forward. gojo tries to maintain his little tough act but fails miserably, he’s quite literally folding underneath you. your fingers run down his neck and a moan slips out. “still sensitive from cumming too early, pretty boy?”
“don’t call me . . . that,” he swallows, another moan eliciting from his throat once you kiss all over his face. your touch, his true weakness. it had him feral, the way your ass grinds against him makes him suck his teeth. “but baby, this is torture,” he pants out, feeling your hands roam everywhere on his body— he tenses up, feeling your fingers skim against his bare chest. “if you can touch me, i should t-touch you too.”
“you always touch me,” you murmur, and he’s so deep— the fatness of his cock stuffs your cunt full to where you’re squeezing him down. he groans, wishing that he could just hold onto your hip. gojo’s head goes back and he smothers his glossed lips together. with the brief swivel turning of your hips, you move against him faster until he starts to spasm underneath you. “aw, so you are still sensitive from cumming too early, ‘toru.”
he groans, a pout spreading against his lips before he whimpers. “i—i’m not,” and he pauses his words before out of nowhere— slip.
gojo’s dick slips out of you and the moment it does, he goes ballistic.
“w-what happened?” he whines, feeling his now flaccid cock slither underneath your folds. you just sit there— almost forgetting he couldn’t exactly see, only feel. he’s all flustered, feeling your folds gradually rub against his length. “f-fuck, put it back in. don’t grind on me, angel.”
“i don’t think you deserve it yet,” you tease, reaching between his legs to stroke his dick. gojo groans, and he’s really feeling everything. the nerves inside his body had him shaking, your touch alone drove him crazy— once he slipped out, gojo wouldn’t stop begging and pleading for you to put it back in. the pout on his face never leaves before you kiss his lips as an attempt to shut him up. he doesn’t though, each mwah from you and he continues to speak, a total blabbermouth. “not until you say pretty please.”
he grouses stubbornly. “huhhh. do you know who i am?”
“you’re a bottom who’s underneath me.” you snicker.
gojo’s at a loss for words, damn. that was probably true— to be fair, he was underneath you. you were straddling his lap, watching as he becomes more and more needy for you to be inside. his hips sweetly jitters from the sudden yearn for you to be back inside. he missed the warmth of your gummy walls gripping him down tightly. “you’re being a brat, you just wanna hear the strongest beg for you, huh?”
“the strongest but i’m the only one who can make you whimper.” you kiss underneath his chin, watching as his dimples poke into his skin.
“if i wasn’t restrained i’d have pinned you down, hmph,” and his pout only stretches. you drag your pussy against his length before he eats his words, a cute whine escaping. “y-you fuckin’ brat, when ‘m free it’s over,” and his lip quivers. “baby, just put it back in, okayyy okay.”
you hum, wrapping your arms around him and he loses himself from your touch. his dick was so hard, pinkish tip desperately awaiting to be stuffing you full by now, but alas—you were stalling. “say pretty please ‘n i’ll put it back in.”
after fourteen tremendously long seconds, gojo gives in with a cute whimper following. “pretty please, pretty please put it back in so i can f-fuck you again.”
“so good for me,” you kiss his cheek, watching him quaver from your touch—he’s panting heavily before he feels your hand wrap around his cock, aligning yourself again. “aw. the strongest, more like the whiniest.”
“i— i hate you,” he whimpers at you mocking his infamous title. “now finish fucking me, brat. pleaseee.”
☆ TOJI FUSHIGURO.
he’s definitely into face fucking, if he’s ever annoyed about something or needs to unwind after a long day, the solution is nothing more than your pretty tight throat.
“knees, girl. get down f’me.”
you’d comply, your knees hitting against the soft carpet before you stare up at him—he inhales, sharp gaze lowering at you. “boo. eye problem?” he sassily says, a hand lightly grabbing onto your hair, using your head as leverage. “you know what to do. need to feel that fuckin’ mouth.”
“could be a little nicer.”
“don’t try me, little girl.”
toji takes a breath, watching as you unzip his jeans—always, he had such a bulge to him. it never failed to poke out through his pants. so delicious, you lick your lips at the sight of his hefty boxers all out in the open—basking in your pure eyesight. you don’t waste any time, whipping out his thick cock. he’s so pent up, angry mushroom tip a pinkish red color. toji’s got a few specks of black hair that coats near his base, a gossamer string of spit departs from your lips the moment you kiss his tip sloppily.
“. . . yeahhh,” he rasps out lowly, fingertips dragging through your scalp. toji’s standing tall, his dick had somewhat of a upward curve to it. with staggering inches, you were always taken aback, he loved feeling the brush of your lips skim across his frenulum. a strained breath yanks out from his lungs once he starts to feel you sink down. your throat was so warm, so wet, so tight. his head throws itself back and he chews down on the soft part of his bottom lip. “thaaaat’s it, take that shit. take it down, babygirl.”
you’re slow with your pace, taking him all the way in until his tip mashes against the roof of your mouth. if it wasn’t for your technique of breathing through your nose, you’d gag. a hand was just about to wrap around his length before he lightly smacks it away. “nuh uh, no hands. you got it.”
he snickers at your pout, watching as your hands go back down toward your sides. you make sure to swirl your tongue against his leaky tip, your pace was perfect— he swallows, tightening his grip against your hair before he makes you go faster. your head’s bobbling, quickening before by this point he’s purely face fucking you now.
“s-shit, good girl. ya gonna let me ruin this mascara, yeah?” and his voice itself was the definition of seduction—so rough, gravelly with each syllable it pronounces. your tongue lays flat, wrapping your lips around his dick before his thigh starts to bounce. “. . . damn,” he huffs out, and your jaw starts to feel heavy over time. toji’s so big, the sensation of your tongue has his head spinning. “keep those pretty eyes up here,” he murmurs, another free hand gripping underneath your chin. what a mess, your own saliva starts to pour down the sides of your mouth. “such a sloppy girl,” he titters, swiping a thumb against your lips. you stare right into his eyes and he returns you with nothing more but a sly smirk. “my sloppy girl though, right?”
you nod, feeling your mascara start to run— still, you’re breathing through your nose before you feel him start to tense up. “ah, fuck,” he grumbles, now he’s just kissing the back of your throat with his rude cockhead. “mhm, this sloppy throat ‘s gonna make me flood it with cum,” and green viridescent eyes flicker back down at you. he lightly taps against your cheek, feeling the outline of his dick. “thirsty, baby? been talkin’ about how much you had nothin’ to drink.”
again, you nod your head whilst still giving him eye contact. toji’s got your mouth stuffed full— he groans lowly, practically dragging your head back and forth against his cock. “yeah you are. open up that jaw for me ‘n i’ll clench that thirst, baby,” and he feels your maw open—your tongue lays flat, and you know he’s preparing to release. you start to even feel yourself throb between your thighs, yet you stop yourself from touching yourself. “so pretty,” he puffs out in short singular breaths. with a hand, toji wraps his right hand around his fat girth of a length before he pulls his dick out. “say ah.”
“ah,” you mimic, lolling out your tongue for him and he sneers at how obedient you were—so good for him, pink tongue ready to be painted with nothing but his worthy semen. tongue pointed out, toji fists his cock a few times—giving it a few solid pumps on your tongue before momentarily, he cums. thick satiny ropes, the moment it shoots out into your throat, upon instinct your eyes briefly squeeze shut from the taste. bitterly bitter, yet you wanted all of it. every single drop. you moan, awaiting for him to finish pouring every drop inside.
“f-fuuuck,” he grunts, painting the inside of your mouth with such strings of cum that it leaves your cheeks all puffed up. “swallow it, baby,” he mumbles, completely out of breath. you do, a few remnants of his seed glistening on your lips before he squeezes your cheeks together. “good,” and he bends down to your level, pushing your lips together. toji slyly grins, staring into your eyes before murmuring. “now, give me a kiss. don’t be greedy, i want a taste too.”
you whine, pulling him into a sultry, sloppy kiss. tongues collide against each other— tangling and twisting, various strings saliva forming into a cobweb before he pulls away, licking near the bottom of your lip where a few sprinkles of his own cum remained. “still thirsty?”
“y-yes, toji.”
“heh. thought so. dehydrated ass girl.”
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yuwuta · 5 months
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RODEO STATION, 1 — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO 
A collection of you and Megumi, through the years, through Gojo’s eyes. 
content, warnings: friends to lovers, fluff, sort of canon-adjacent, satoru adopts megumi and tsumiki, reader has a cursed technique but it’s not mentioned in depth here, really just you and megumi falling in love and gojo watching
word count: 1.1k
part i: first years, jujutsu tech. fits in the timeline around when nobara first joins the class
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When Satoru first finds him, Megumi has two conditions. First, that Tsumiki would be kept safe and happy, and far away from the Zenin clan if they weren’t going to be good to her—safe and far away from all jujutsu society if Gojo could help it; and that she would never have to worry about feeding herself or Megumi ever again. Satoru agreed right away, he would have done that without the request. 
For his second condition, an eight year old Megumi looked Satoru straight in the eye and told him that he would absolutely not be separated from you. Satoru thought it was cute, sweet, in the bratty, and naive but determined kind of way that seemed to be everything that kid stood for, and Satoru couldn’t fault him for it. Megumi’s evident childlike adoration of you aside, Satoru saw potential in you, too, so he accepted Megumi’s conditions, happy to welcome the two of you to the world of sorcery. 
It’s not until a week before you both start at Jujutsu Tech, that Satoru really asks Megumi why he wants you here (never mind the fact that you had already also made up your mind about being a sorcerer, and if there is anything that Satoru has learned about you in the past decade, it’s that: one, you have the magical ability to make Megumi do anything you say; and two, you’re incredible persuasive and very stubborn). Megumi doesn’t look him in the eye when he answers, fidgeting with his melting ice cream instead when he says, “Well, she saved my life.” 
Satoru doesn’t tease when he hears this, only digging his spoon in for a scoop of Megumi’s toffee butter, smiling to himself when the cold hits his tongue, because he’d heard the message loud and clear: Megumi believes he owes you his life, and to keep yours protected, he wants you by his side.
Satoru quickly learns that Megumi truly has his work cut out for him as he watches you burst through a top-floor window of a high-rise building, falling carelessly with the object of your mission—a special-grade cursed object—clutched in your grasp. Second later, there’s a loud explosion, as the ugly head of a large cursed falls limp in the hole in the broken glass that you’d left behind. Satoru chuckles when he sees you smile, and the faint cheer of weeeeeeeee as you fall. He knew you were wild and stubborn by the way you bossed Megumi around without a care, but seeing you in action proved that you were also in your own league of crazy, a fantastic sorceress in the making. 
To his left, Yuuji gapes wildly as he looks up, shielding his eyes with his hand, and then flinching back when Nobara bursts through the ground floor door, not without a nail going flying into the curse that had been chasing her. She looks angry, then wide eyed, then up to where Yuuji and Megumi were also staring and starts squealing alongside him. 
“Gojo-sensei, what are you standing there smiling about—do something!” Nobara shouts, pointing an accusatory finger up in the air at your flying body. 
Yuuji gasps again, like he’d just figured out the consequence of you falling from a building, spewing on his own cries, “Hey, seriously, what the hell are we doing—she can’t fly,” he shouts, turning to shake his sensei, then pausing, “Wait, Fushiguro, can she fly? You know her.” 
“Idiot,” Nobara spits, “If she could fly then she’d be flying, not falling.”
“Then why aren’t we doing any—you know what, I think I can catch her,” Yuuji boasts, rolling up his sleeves, prepared to position himself underneath your descending body, and that’s when Satoru steps in, extending an arm in front of his students. 
“You all worry too much,” he smiles, lifting his blindfold just enough to look the pair in the eye, and tilt his head up slightly, “Besides, Megumi’s handled it.” 
Three heads turn back up to the sky, where you’re no longer in freefall, instead have had your shoulders snatched by Nue’s talons. You’ve still got that wild smile on your face, wider now as you descend much more elegantly via Megumi’s shikigami. Nobara and Yuuji wince as Nue’s wings flap widely when you’re set on the ground. You shift the box with the cursed object to one hand, reaching your free one around to pet the bird’s feathers. It crows happily, and Satoru snickers, much to Megumi’s dismay. You always did treat his shikigami like pets. 
“Hey, you’re okay!” Yuuji cheers, eyes sparkling, “What’s in the box? A sword—actually, I don’t want to know. If it’s another finger, keep it away from me.” 
“Hand it here,” Nobara demands. You’re happy to hand over the box and have another hand available for petting Nue. 
Satoru watches fondly as Yuuji and Nobara fuss over the box. They should probably exercise more caution, but he’s there, so the worst can’t happen. Meanwhile, you step closer to Megumi with Nue fluttering behind you. 
“You’re the one who told me there would be no need to get involved,” Megumi says, voice soft, hands falling comfortably at his side. 
“I said that you wouldn’t have to get involved with the curses,” you correct, standing on your tiptoes to nuzzles your head into the bird’s feathers, “I said nothing about not getting involved with me.” 
Satoru does his best not to choke out a loud laugh as Megumi’s face becomes increasingly pink when you reach forward to pinch his cheeks, his grumbling drowned in the sound of Yuuji and Nobara’s bickering. Satory sighs, content. He cares for all his students, but there’s a certain weight lifted on his shoulders knowing that when it came to you, there was truly nothing to worry about—Megumi would always be there for you. Honestly, he thinks Megumi might fight him to protect you if it came down to it. 
That thought does bring an audible chuckle to his lips, Megumi’s pinched expression calling to him, “What are you laughing about?” 
To which Satoru only hums, sticking his hands in his pockets. Megumi’s eyebrows furrow deeper, but it’s quickly dissolved when you catch his attention again, saying your farewells to Nue before giving Megumi the okay to let him recede into his shadows. 
“Oh, nothing,” Satoru chirps, turning to lead the group back to Ichiji’s car, “Come on, who’s still up for revolving sushi!”  
Cheers follow him as the veil dispels. You question Yuuji about whether or not you think the restaurant will have grilled eel, and Nobara pretends to throw up, arguing that eel is the worst, that you all should stick to hand rolls instead. Megumi stays quiet, walking on your outside, and humming along with all of your suggestions, and Satoru can’t help but wonder whether or not you knew that Nue had been out from the moment you’d stepped in the building. 
Honestly, he thinks Megumi might win that fight—might win any fight if it meant being with you.
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chamomiletealeaf · 3 months
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@naivegh0ul writing about Mommy kink Simon has been rotting my brain like a parasite.
Like fuckin hell, you’d be riding him, his hands on your hips pulling you down as he thrusts up into you and his poor little head would be too fucked out and dizzy to comprehend the words he says.
His mouth open and eyes half lidded, he says “fuck mommy mmph, feel so good.”
And you slow down a little bit, smirk on your face.
“What’d you say Si?” You say tilting your head to the side, using his nickname only you call him, knowing it already makes him flustered in the first place.
He looks up at you with his big honey colored puppy eyes that are wide with confusion, trying to remember what he said.
When he remembers, he places his forehead on your shoulder with a groan trying to fuck up into you again hoping it’ll make you forget.
You place one hand on his chest and the other under his chin to tilt his head up to look at you.
You know what he said, you heard it loud and clear, you just wanted him to say it again.
“What’d you say honey?” You asked in the sweetest, softest pitched voice that had him whine in response.
“I-“ he blushes, his cheeks the prettiest shade of pink.
You trace your thumb over his lips.
“I- said mama.” He admits like he was confessing a sin.
“No.” you giggle, “close, but that’s not what you said Si.”
“Mommy.” He whispers breathlessly, and you smile at his honesty.
“I didn’t know you liked that Simmy.” You tilt your head again, smile still plastered on your face, your thumb now tracing over the blush on his cheekbone.
“Go on, say it again.” You start to bounce on him again, nuzzling your head on his shoulder into his neck, whispering praises in his ear.
He tightens his grip on your hips and his eyes roll back.
“Yeah mommy, fuck, just like that, please, fuck me like that.”
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foreverdolly · 1 month
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ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part 3 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』
summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.
warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. ( need to edit this later because I'm exhausted right now)
word count: 3.5k
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If the intruder had made another noise then hadn’t been able to hear it. Not over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. Dread washed over you, the blood in your veins turning to ice as you were struck with a sudden realization: 
Either you fought for your life, here and now. . . or you died. 
Your throat locked up, and suddenly you found yourself unable to say anything at all. Shouldn’t you be screaming like a madwoman? Had he seen you undress for the night? Had he been lurking in a corner or a closet as your attendants had run your bath? Was everybody in on this? 
Every nervous smile and antsy movement came rushing back to you. Betrayal slapped you in the face so hard that it stunned you back into motion. 
The knife that you had hidden away in your room after breakfast was shorter than you would have liked- minimal reach, meaning you’d have to get up close to the attacker. Still, you somehow managed to kick the sheets off of you in order to lurch to the side before he was able to brandish his own blade. You heard it cut through the air, the loud tearing of the pillow where your head had just been perched a millisecond ago echoed through the pitch black room. 
You moved towards the door, bare feet against ice cold marble, and finally began to open your mouth to scream for whatever guards were sure to be stationed near the guest quarters. 
“I wouldn’t bother,” The man’s voice sneered, a smile evident in his voice. “No one will save you.” 
There it was. The truth. 
Everyone hated you, but you already knew as much. There was very little you could do in your nightdress- no way you could properly fend off an attacker without any shoes on your feet. Even worse, you had no shield. 
“Why are you doing this?” You questioned, raising the knife so that you were holding it defensively in front of you. You hated how pathetic you sounded with your voice shaking like that. Still, your hands held strong. 
Under immense trauma and stress like this your body had gone into autopilot. Again and again your training has been hammered into you. You must remain calm. Act with surety. 
Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. 
You waited, listening to see if he was getting close to you. The bed creaked, the attacker stepping into a single ray of silver light that had escaped through the blinds.
 It was a guard. 
So this was planned. You should have known enough. You would have thought that Feyd would have been the one to orchestrate the whole thing, but his earlier warning had made it clear to you that he hadn’t wanted you to perish. At least not like this. 
He didn’t say anything else to you before his arm came barrelling down. You stepped to the side, almost tripping over the fabric of your dress in your panic. The cutter blade struck the wall behind you, and in the man’s blind fury he left his side completely defenseless. You surged forward, the knife tightly clutched in your hand, and brought it down hard on his arm. He cried out, the sound nearly deafening you as it echoed off of the empty walls. 
“You bitch!” His weapon clung against the ground. 
Still, his uninjured arm struck against the side of your face. The world tilted beneath you as you stumbled backwards, your spine cracking against the dresser drawer as your knees buckled beneath you. Pain. It felt like he had just drilled a hole clean into the side of your face. No one had ever landed a blow to you like that. The guard took advantage of your stunned state, moving forward so that he could wrap his meaty hands around your throat. 
You needed to use the Voice. He had to stop. . . but his hands were squeezing too tightly. Your lips moved but little more than fearful croaks escaped you. Tears pooled in your eyes at the pressure, at the pain, at the fucking fear that was threatening to swallow you up whole, whole, whole until you were nothing. Your nails scrapped against any bit of skin that you could find. He hissed in pain, using the weight of your own body against you as he slammed you against the dresser where he currently had you pinned. 
You kicked out your legs, desperately trying to find a foothold so that you could wrench yourself upwards. If you were in pants then you might have been able to save yourself, but your bare feet slid out against the loose fabric pooled underneath you. The man had struck when you had been most vulnerable. He was killing you. 
Your eyes widened, the tears finally spilling past the thick wall of your lower lashes. He was killing you. He was killing you. He was killing you. 
With the ringing filling your ears, you hadn’t heard the commotion outside of your door. Only when it slammed open, light from the hall flooding in, did you realize that someone had been alerted. The hands around your throat loosened just enough for you to take a deep, wheezing breath in. 
“Help me.” But you couldn’t reach the correct frequency, not when your vocal cords were so damaged. 
Still, with bleary eyes you stared up at whoever’s large form filled the doorway. Begging them to save you. 
And so they did. 
The world just fell away, like ink on wet paper- it all bled around him. All sound and sight ebbed away, the only thing visible in his rage being your tear filled eyes. Feyd had seen looks of pure terror on the faces of men he had bested countless times before. It never meant much to him. The lives he had taken never weighed heavy on his shoulders. He never cared much for anything aside from his own ambitions. He had goals- found minor joy in sharpening his mind and his blades. 
 He had carried his memories of you from childhood with him into adulthood, each glance and nervous smile acted as a balm that soothed any future traumas or worries. He knew that one day he would be standing exactly where he was right then, with you within arms length. 
This wasn’t what he had pictured throughout the years though. Nothing could have prepared him for what he was currently witnessing. 
Women bled the same as men did. He never felt overly-noble when it came to protecting them, no matter how weak or frail they looked. Feyd understood that it was survival of the fittest. People lost their lives every day in much crueler ways than suffocation. . . 
But the guard had his hands around your throat, and in that moment Feyd no longer saw the proud woman that had managed to nearly knock him off of his feet earlier. No, in that moment you looked just like that six year old little girl he had always cared for so dearly. You looked exactly how he had left you- scared, fragile and innocent. 
Feyd-Rautha wasn’t quite sure what love was, but he could imagine that it must be what he felt for you. Losing you was an impossibility, he’d never let it happen. He couldn’t. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” 
An eerie sort of calm befell the room, the only sounds being your shaky breaths as you tried to fill your aching lungs with air. The guard didn’t answer him, only stared with fearful eyes up at the Na-Baron. He was looking Death right in the face. 
“Was it your idea to attack her in the middle of the night like this?” Feyd took another step into the room, which had the guard scooting back awkwardly on his knees. “You were going to kill her in the dark like she was no better than an animal.” 
He hadn’t even been brave enough to face you with the lights on. 
Feyd, without turning around, used his foot to close the door behind him. Once again the room plummeted into pitch black darkness. There was a shuffling sound in front of him, the man trying to get to his feet as fast as he could to put some distance between the two of them, but it was too late. Feyd followed the source of the noise and reached out, grabbing the man around the stomach before sinking his blade deep into his neck. A sick wet gurgling noise caused you to let out a small cry. Still, the blue eyed man wouldn’t be offput by your disgust. 
He had to pay for what he did to you. 
And so he dislodged the knife easily, the sharp blade gliding through muscle and skin, and then stabbed again. And again. And again. The guard moaned in pain, trying his hardest to buck and fight Feyd off of him. Even when the man’s legs gave out from under him Feyd followed him, falling to his knees so that he could continue his ruthless assault. 
The Na-Baron grit his teeth, eyes wide as his knife continued to find purchase in the corpse beneath him. The bastard had caused you to suffer. He had hurt you. Feyd didn’t stop there either. He stood up and made his way out into the hallway. 
The rage had made a home somewhere deep in his chest. He didn’t know what to do with so much anger. He needed. . . he needed to make everyone atone for what they had done to you. Did they think that he would approve of their lame assassination attempt? 
“You heard everything and did nothing!” He screamed out at the other guards who stood in the hallway. 
His hands were coated in blood, his black shirt and night pants soaked through, clinging to his skin. All they could do was watch him, unable to say anything at all. Feyd knew that they could not deny his claims. They had all been in on this from the start. 
And so he raised his blade again and did not stop until every man in the hallway was long-dead. 
Not a word had been said since the incident. You didn’t even complain when Feyd had all but dragged you through the halls, rather you followed him as emotionless as a doll. The blood of the fallen marred your arms and crisp white nightdress. It was as if your body had gone into auto pilot. Your mind was lost to you, as you felt as though you were floating off somewhere far away. You no longer existed at all. 
You were just a hollow shell now, in a state of shock that had you shutting down completely. 
Where was he taking you? You didn’t know, nor did you particularly care anymore. 
The guard’s final breaths had sounded wet, probably due to the blood in his lungs. The blade hitting bone. His moans of pain. Those sounds still echoed in your ears, and you were positive that you’d never be able to get them out of your head. 
You’d never witnessed anything like that in all of your life. Someone had been killed mere feet away from you. And yet you weren’t sorry for him. You searched yourself for even an inkling of pity and came up short. The bastard got what he deserved. 
“Why did you have to do that in front of me?” You managed to mumble out. 
Tonight would soon become a memory that would never abandon you. Even in old age you were certain that you would be able to recall every gut wrenching detail of tonights events. When the door leading out to the doorway had opened and illuminated the room, Feyd’s sins had been revealed in full to you. 
The guard was unrecognizable. He no longer looked human to you, his insides turned out. Your betrothed had quite literally gutted your attacker in front of you. 
Your bare feet tracked blood on the floors, the long skirts of your nightgown soaked with another man’s blood. 
“I killed him for you. I wanted you to experience every moment of retribution.” He didn’t turn around to face you as he spoke. Instead he kept his eyes on the hallway, the pupils of his pale blue eyes blown out wide. 
You cast a look down at the hand that was holding your arm in a vice-like grip. He was shaking. It was almost as though he could feel your eyes on his hand. His trembling fingers dug into your soft skin. 
Feyd released you once the two of you were alone in a room together, closing the door behind him and locking it for good measure. You stood there, motionless as you followed the line of his jaw with your eyes. The muscle there ticked a few times as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. He was still agitated, you could tell. 
“You’re starting to bruise.” He motioned towards his own neck. 
Your hand flew up to your throat, poking at the tender skin. It felt hot under your touch- sore too. It would serve as a reminder of how close you had come to death. Tonight you felt nothing. . . but what about tomorrow? Would you ever be able to sleep again? 
“How did you know that I was being attacked?” Your suspicion was beginning to build back up again. There were just too many coincidences. 
“You think I had something to do with this?” He sounded agitated. There was no hint of his usual sarcastic lilt in his tone. 
You’d never seen Feyd like this before. He actually seemed. . . offended but your gentle accusation. 
“You can’t answer my question with yet another question. How did you know I was being attacked?” You might have been in a state of immense shock but you still had some wits about you. 
You were locked in a room with a murderer, and the possibility that he had a hand in your assassination attempt was high. Once again you found yourself utterly defenseless. If he tried to attack you now there was no way that you’d be able to defend yourself. Not only that but your throat was wrecked. You could barely talk at the current moment, meaning you couldn’t even depend on the Voice if you needed to. You were as helpless as a child in the wake of Feyd’s power. 
“I see you in my dreams sometimes.” 
Anyone else would have called him insane, but you were used to Paul’s dreams. They’d been getting even more vivid as he aged. So Feyd had a dream that you were in danger? You found it difficult to believe that he would go out of his way to come to your rescue. Still, here he was. 
“Is that why you warned me today at breakfast?” The pieces were finally beginning to fall into place. He’d known something was going to happen since last night. 
“Yes,” He tilted his head, seemingly deep in thought. “Something told me to go and see you.” 
You didn’t have it in yourself to question him further. You’d have to be satisfied with his answers. What you really wanted was a bath and a fresh change of clothes. One last look at your soiled clothes had your nose wrinkling in disgust. The smell of blood was thick in your nose- so strong that the iron scent almost smelled sweet. You gagged outwardly, putting your hands on your knees as you suddenly dry heaved. 
“You realize that he couldn’t be left alive after what he had done, don’t you?” 
Of course you did. That didn’t make it any better though. Your fingers stuck together, caked in blood, as you balled them into fists at your sides. 
“Bath.” Was all you said, already looking around the room that you assumed was his living quarters for any sign of a tub. 
He didn’t make any complaints as you closed the bathroom door behind yourself. Feyd gave you the time to process everything, didn’t knock on the door even once as the minutes ticked by. You stayed in the water until your fingers pruned and rubbed your skin until it was raw. Blood was everywhere. Under your nails, between your toes- it had even soaked through your dress and now caked your lower legs and thighs. 
You threw on a thin cotton robe you found neatly folded on a small towel rack, tying it tightly around your waist before you built up the courage to face your fiance again. 
“Take me back to my room.” You were eager to fall asleep. 
You’d been through too much. The thought of having to be conscious was tiring in itself. If you could close your eyes and sleep for the next ten years then you would. 
You missed your home. You missed your parents and Paul. You missed stability and security. Your life felt lost to you now. 
“This is your room now.” He was laying on the bed, already in a change of clothes. He seemingly took a bath himself while you had locked yourself away. There was no trace of gore left on him now. 
Your mouth went dry, palms pooling with sweat. Surely you were understanding him incorrectly. 
“You can’t expect me to sleep in the same room with you. We aren’t married.” There was absolutely no way your parents would approve of something like this. 
“I don’t trust anyone besides myself with your safety.” 
You didn’t trust anyone. Especially not Feyd. 
“Why should I be expected to sleep with you? I don’t feel comfortable-” 
“I will kill anyone that lays a finger on you again. Let that pile of bodies act as a warning to anyone else that tries. That’s why you should be expected to stay here with me. Get in the bed.” He seemed tired. Aggitated. 
“No.” You held strong. Never in your life had you slept in the same room as a man, let alone someone like Feyd-Rautha. He’d sooner kill you in your sleep then anyone else would. 
“Come here.” His tone caused you to jump. 
You had to bite your tongue as you approached him, sitting down awkwardly on the bed before you finally succumbed to his wishes. The bed was softer than your own, which you immediately envied. The soft mattress enveloped you, and all at once the tiredness you hadn’t felt until then finally sank in. 
You didn’t put up much more of a fight. Your eyes were beginning to close on their own accord. Feyd was watching you, turned on his side so that he could get a better look at you. It was then, for the first time ever, that you fully noted how beautiful he was. Up close like this he was even more striking. Blue eyes, full lips and pale, flawless skin. 
One thing that went unnoticed by you was the fact that Feyd didn’t turn the lights off. 
Without having to ask. . . he didn’t turn the lights off. 
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star-sim · 4 months
Text
"is your girlfriend single?" ☆ enha hyungs
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☆ youtuber! non-idol! bf! enhypen hyung line x fem! reader ☆ summary: when your youtuber boyfriend finally shows you for the first time to his audience. ☆ genre: fluff, jealous and whipped boys... kinda dumb lol ☆ warning(s)? no! just fluff!! and attempts at humor :( ☆ reblogs and comments are appreciated :D also not proofread lol
maknae ver.
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heeseung ☆
i like to think that hee would be a gaming youtuber
posts maybe like once or twice a week, has about 3 million subs
he sometimes likes to stream, just to get to know his fanbase better and to just hang out
normally he texts you to let you know abt it, but today he totally forgot
you came home from work and you saw his office door closed + heard the sound of his loud ass keyboard clicking.... my guy beats that shit UP atp
that was normal tbh
you were probably like "my little keyboard warrior ❤️" and went to go wash up in your shared bathroom and bedroom
you were going to just pop into his office, say hi and maybe give him a kiss
meanwhile... heeseung is taking a break from gaming, just talking to the chat
he definitely didn't notice you coming home... probably bc of that bigass head set that's creating a fucking valley in his skull... (btw have u seen those videos where gamers take off their headphones and they have a dent on their head 😭)
anyways you open the door, ready to say hi, but heeseung is visibly surprised, looking like a deer in headlights
you look at him, then at the back of his monitor, then back at him, then at his monitor
"should i come back another time...?"
hee's already taking off his headphones, leaning back into his gaming chair--
"no no no!" he grins, glancing at the chat, which is now blowing up
"who is that?"
"yooooo"
"HEESEUNG IS THAT YOUR GIRLFRIEND?"
"gf reveal?"
"she sounds so pretty"
heeseung pats his lap, "cmere, baby, i wanna introduce you to the stream"
of course you comply <3
you take a seat on his lap, his arms slithering around your waist
it takes you a moment to take in what's on his screen: obv there's your reflections, then the chat boxes and announcement pop-ups
the way that the blue-purple light of his screen reflects onto your skin, casting a glassy gleam over your eyes-- and the way that your pretty eyes look at the monitor so curiously, lips parted ever-so-slightly-- made you look SO beautiful
heeseung himself has to angle his head in a way so that he could see your face properly.... and a soft grin unknowingly began to spread over his lips
he presses a soft kiss to the crook behind your ear, before looking back up at the stream
"hey guys," there's a clear smile in his voice, "this is my girlfriend, [name]."
you take that as your queue to introduce yourself
honestly, you're a little shy and softer-spoken now, bc you're not in front of a camera nearly as often as your boyfriend is, "hi.. i'm [name], and... uhm..." you give the webcam a clumsy, awkward (but very cute) smile, "i'm hee's girlfriend"
the chat blows up immediately
"SHE'S SO CUTE"
"i've never seen heeseung look so soft"
"[name] you're so pretty :)"
"this might actually be one of the most beautiful women i've ever seen im not joking guys"
"chat is she real... bc why is she actually GLOWING oh my lord🧎🧎🧎"
those comments make you a lil shy and bashful, and you feel your cheeks kinda warm
you just giggle reading them, unable to contain your smile
heeseung, on the other hand, is feeling prideful
"that's right, guys," he squeezes your waist, puffing his chest out, "my girlfriend is so beautiful" "i know i'm so lucky to have such a wonderful woman as my girlfriend"
he's overjoyed by all the compliments you're getting... it makes him so happy that he can show you off and that everyone gets to see that YOURE his gf
in fact, he's reading a lot of them aloud, and following it up with "i agree with you"
like he'll read "'[name] is absolutely stunning, like wow..." and heeseung nods and is like "i agree with you, xXdragontittysucker23Xx 🤓☝️"
but then a comment stops him in his tracks...
"heeseung is your girlfriend single by any chance?"
his face drops immediately
"hey... who in the chat asked if [name] is single?!"
he's actually offended, putting a dramatic hand on his chest and scoffing
"how rude!" heeseung pouts against your shoulder when even more of his viewers begin saying similar things
"[name] are you free this weekend"
"hi [name] (i'm 6'2 and drive a lamborghini and save orphans every weekend)"
"heeseung get out i'm trying to have a moment with your girlfriend"
you're actually such a cutie, becuase you're just giggling as more and more comments come trying to rizz you up
"what do you have to say for yourself?" heeseung asks you half-sulkily and half-defensive, pushing his face into your neck and pouting
your eyes glimmer with a little mischief, wanting to tease your boyfriend a little bit
"i mean... " you pretend to think
and then someone named jungkooksleftpinkytoe562 says in chat "please [name] i'll rock your world so hard just one chance"
you laugh
"jungkooksleftpinkytoe562, i'm free tomorrow at 5, you should take me out on a date" and you wink playfully and laugh again
chat blows up like
"WOAHHHH"
"AYOOO????"
but if there's anyone that's scandalized, it's heeseung lee himself
"HEY! HEY! WHAT?!!?!" he's squinting and scrolling so fast in the chat to find jungkooksleftpinkytoe562 that you can hear the scroll-wheel oh my god
"you guys better back off," heeseung says, pulling you even closer. he presses a kiss against your shoulder, then gently clutching your face to kiss your chin, "she's mine!"
heeseung's eyes narrow, "especially you, jungkooksleftpinkytoe562..." your bf gives you a quick peck on the lips, "i'll kick your ass if i see you flirting w my girlfriend again >:("
im gonna be fr... none of his viewers care
in fact they keep flirting with you
and the fact that you keep playfully flirting back adds fuel to heeseung's flames
but he'd never blame you <3
he's pouty after the stream lol (but he knows it's all in good fun) so kiss his cute lil pouty lips
i think this definitely goes viral on twitter
like #[name] or #heesgf trends for a good 48 hours
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jay ☆
my guy is a cooking channel
i think jay would try to be more private abt his personal life to his viewers, just given the nature of his content
though, it's no secret that jay has a s/o to his viewers, and i think they'd know your name
but yk how at the end of cooking videos, after the chef cooks, they try the food...
i think in a few of his videos, there's clips of you and him trying his food, but while jay is usually in-frame, you're either behind the camera or just barely in the frame so that most people have really only heard your voice and seen your hands
the comments are usually tame, like
"[name]'s voice is so pretty!"
"i want someone to look at me the way jay looks at [name]"
"my parents!"
but one day
for one of his subscriber milestone specials
let's say 2million subscriber special
jay does a cooking challenge
it's "cooking a meal but BLINDFOLDED"
he starts the video explaining the parameters of the challenge and what he's doing, etc
but then he reveals that you're behind the camera to supervise him
obv bc he's in a kitchen with ovens and knives and he's blindfolded...
throughout the video, you kind of just guide your bf
"omg jay move your hand or you'll cut your fingers off!"
"turn on the stove-- no the other way!!"
at some point, jay is cutting up onions
and normally he's a pro at it, and you never question his abilities
but because he can't see and he's using the knife so quickly, you're freaked out like "babe!!!!!! that doesn't seem safe!!! 😰😰😰"
so then behind the camera, you're heard fussing about it and it's cute lol
then you take it upon yourself to help him
you go behind him, slithering your arms around him so that your hands were places on his
you guide his hands to cut the onions slowly
"babe, i got this," jay says, but tbh he's not complaining because he gets to be close to you :D
"nonono i don't want you to die!!" you say, and it seems like you're more concentrated on cutting the onions than him
this is the first time that your face is in-frame for one of his videos lol
when you're done, jay tries to kiss your head, but he can't find you so you raise yourself on your tippy toes for him
its a quick peck but you giggle and place a kiss behind his ear
when he's done cooking his little dish, it's time to garnish and decorate it with sauce
jay's plan is to use the sauce to write "happy 2 million subscribers" on the dish
but because he's blindfolded, the writing is so fucked up
it's completely unintelligable and just a glob of sauce 😭
and then he tries to draw a dick on it but it's also super fucked 😭😭😭😭
when you see this, you burst out laughing so hard
and this makes jay laugh too
anyways the video goes up, it's very cute and well-received
now.... the youtube comments are still tame
"[name]'s laugh is so cute!"
"i screamed when she popped into frame... she's gorg"
"the way that [name] looks at jay when he's blindfolded is everything"
"[name] looks so beautiful"
but uh
it gets crazy on twitter
as it always does
"jesus fucking christ if a woman like that wrapped her arms around me and kissed me i would fall to my knees and die happily"
"jay CANNOT handle allat.... but i can!!!! me next!!"
"god... when is it my turn to have a pretty woman kiss me"
"[name] i'll treat you so well PLEASE"
i think the clip of you helping jay cut the onions kinda goes viral, just because you look so attractive doing it
like the way you popped into frame as you rolled up your sleeves and the way you smirked at jay's inability to see... ZOOWEE MAMA!!!!!
and i think this eventually makes its way onto tiktok
like pretty standard videos of ppl being like "JAY'S GIRLFRIEND HELLO???" with comments like "she's so beautiful," etc
jay honestly thinks its funny
he knows that people are joking and he sometimes actually plays along with them
he loves that people are appreciating your beauty (but he loves even more that he's the only one that actually gets you)
when you first go viral, you're kinda shy about it, but jay just pulls you close, kisses your cheek, squishing them, and says "my baby is so beautiful"
youre like "jayyyyyy stoopppp"
he only chuckles and starts to pepper your face with more kisses, despite your lil whines for him to stop
but then while you two are cuddling one night, you laying on his chest with your face in his neck
a tiktok appears on his fyp
its just some teenager being like "hi does anyone know if jay's girlfriend is single?" while showing off a black BMW in the background... and then jay's directly tagged in it
he takes this as his opportunity to strike back
he stitches that tiktok, and makes his own tiktok in response
it's just a really short video where jay shows you all snuggled up against him completely silent before he just says "No, she is not single. 😐."
the caption's like "i'm taking [name] out on a date tomorrow shhh don't tell her"
everyone thinks it's really sweet tbh
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jake ☆
truthfully i think jake would be into youtube commentary
something like danny gonzalez or jarvis johnson
he looks at troom troom videos and makes fun of them lowk 😭
speaking of, troom troom or troom troom - adjacent content usually has crazy ass lifehacks
so for one of his videos jake is testing out troom troom life hacks
and for one of them, he has to drill a hole in a skateboard or something and put pasta noodles in it idk i'm pulling this out of my ass but its not surprising if this is a legitimate troom troom life hack
unlike heeseung and jay, jake's viewerbase doesn't rlly know about you
again, given the nature of his content, jake never rlly found it necessary to mention his personal relationships
anyways jake is in the middle of your living room floor drilling a hole into a skateboard and putting spaghettie in it when you come home from work and see that shit
jake is in the middle of talking to the camera but the moment the door cracks open he trails off
he gives you that smile-- the one that a puppy gives when their owner catches them doing something they shouldnt aw
when you take in the sight before you, you let out a laugh, not noticing the camera rolling
you place your things down and slink toward your boyfriend
"what's going on here, jakey?" you ask him with a cocked brow, loving the way he chuckles nervously
you crouch down beside him, poking the skateboard-spaghetti abomination with your foot
"i'm testing out troom troom life hacks" he sounds defeated lol
anyways you give him a kiss on his cheek and leave him to his own devices
in the final video, your little interruption is only like 15 seconds bc jake cut it down-- but he def keeps the part where you kiss him
HOWEVER.
because jake's audience didn't know he had a girlfriend
they were all like WOAH WHO IS THAT GORGEOUS WOMAN
a few of his fans look at who he's following on instagram, and they find your account
your ig is public, but it's definitely small and personal
they find pictures of you and jake doing cute couple things, a lot of mirror selfies, matching costumes, and cute pictures that you take of jake
but...
they also find your own personal pictures
ones of you in a bikini at the beach, ones of you with the golden sun on your face, ones showing off your outfit and hair, ones of you in the morning, ones of you being a baddie
and lets not mention jake in the ig comment sections hyping you up like a teenage boy like "YOURE SO HOT [NAME] 🔥🔥🔥🔥"
jake and you see all the comments and tweets about you
so jake decides to take it upon himself to clarify everything
he posts a picture on instagram of you and him with the caption "yes, that's my girlfriend"
safe to say that it becomes his top post LMAOAAO
his ig comments are flooded with support
"you guys are so cute"
"i'm glad to see jake have someone that he loves"
etc
YOUR ig comment section on the other hand?
flooded with support
and thirst
HELP
his fans are respectful but they REALLY love to compliment you
"woahhh you look so good in this one!"
"gorgeous 😍"
"[name] will you marry me?"
but i do think a few are outright insane omg
"[name] you're my sunshine in the ran, the tylenol when i'm in pain, when it's burning hot on summer days you're exactly what i need"
i think they pull out poetic shit omg
like shit like
"the memory of you is a tapestry I had decided to wrap myself in until it suffocated me, to such extent that in the morning, people will not find my body, but a new silhouette woven within its threads"
"there is a city in my heart where you are its only population"
"if i could remake universe, i would replace you as the moon amongst the stars after your time, so i may gaze upon you every night"
jake is NEVER escaping
you appreciate the hype
but jakey?
he loves that you're being appreciate but YOU'RE HIS
WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE AND WHY DO THEY THINK THEY HAVE A CHANCE W U
"jakey they're just being nice"
"no they're trying to STEAL YOU"
like a day later he posts a picture of you on his instagram with the caption "she's mine btw"
his comments DO NOT CARE 😭😭😭
when someone comments
"jake is your gf single and can i take her out on a date"
jake straight up responds
"NO."
what a cutie
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sunghoon ☆
i actually don't think sunghoon would be a YOUTUBER youtuber
instead i think he'd be a famous ice skater, but he has YOUTUBE interviews and is active on social media
definitely the type of athlete that's very personable
like sunghoon is def in touch with his fanbase and interacts with them on twt and stuff
his fanbase knows that he has a gf, but that's basically the limit
anyways sunghoon is doing one of those "WIRED answered the web's most searched questions"
you're actually in the studio with him during the interview, kinda there for support
the questions are tame like
"sunghoon park height" "sunghoon park winter olympics 2018" "where was sunghoon park born" etc
sunghoon's killing it
until one of the last questions on the board is "does sunghoon park have a girlfriend?"
he immediately lights up
"i do have a girlfriend!" he says, looking off-set at you, "her name's [name] and she's the most beautiful woman i've ever met"
you chuckle quietly at his comment, flashing him a pretty smile
sunghoon continues- "she's actually here with me today" and he points to you, making the cameraman pan over to you, who is sitting off the set
you just give the camera a thumbs up
you thought that would be the end, but sunghoon asks, "baby, do you want to do this interview with me?"
ofc you agree
he makes u sit on his lap lol even when the camera crew is bringing another chair for you
instead of answer more questions sunghoon just talks about your relationship the entire time
he's giving an entire history lecture about your relationship
you don't say much, but you listen to him intently
when this interview goes up
a lot of his fans make edits of it
sunghoon is already known as a quiet typa guy, but when he talks for like 2 minutes straight about your relationship everyones like "oh god this guy really likes his girlfriend 😭"
in fact
the official interview cuts down sunghoon's tangent about you to 2 minutes, when the original clip was actually 10 minutes
i like to believe that WIRED released an uncut version of his tangent 😭
his fans make short edit videos like "sunghoon being whipped for [name]" or "sunghoon really likes his gf"
i think his fans also make edits of YOU
even though you're honestly in a very short clip of his interview
the way you look at him and listen so intently is SO GOOD
like you were definitely giving him 'the look' as he talked abt your relationship yk?
that once-over, maybe a little lip bite, MMMMM SO GOOD
now....
ik i said that heeseung was the keyboard warrior but like... i think sunghoon is the real one
he's out here fighting BATTLES with his keyboard oml
when stan twitter sees this.... sunghoon starts to fight them
there's tweets like
"the more i listen to sunghoon talk about his gf i more i feel like i'm falling for her"
"the woman that you are, [name]..."
"when she looks at the camera i feel shy"
"omg SHE WANTS ME"
sunghoon gets petty OH MY GOD
he responds to all the tweets about you
like
"she does not want you 😐." "you have no chance with her. 😐." "too bad she's mine 😇"
it's def in a playful joking way and it's really funny, but sunghoon is out here defending your honor
i think at some point sunghoon stops responding with words and just begins responding with pictures
someone tweets "sunghoon is your gf single"
and he straight up just responds with a picture of him staring blankly at the camera
LIKE HE'S DRILLING HOLES THROUGH THE CAMERA WITH HIS EYES
an absolute cutie if i do say so myself
on valentines day he posts a picture of him holding your hand to be extra petty lol
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maknae ver.
5K notes · View notes
ladadiida · 8 months
Text
𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 as much as you wanted to stay by his side, you couldn't bear the thought of watching him fall in love with other women while you're stuck at the kitchen washing dishes and measuring ingredients. so you dreamt of leaving, of traveling to different islands to share your lovely songs and tunes; but the more your desire to leave grows, the more sanji finds himself drowning in your warmth.
or,
you and sanji over the years, wherein five times you tried to leave him and the one time you finally did, despite his refusal to let you go.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 musician reader, 5 + 1 things, pining, unrequited love, not actually unrequited love, heavy (kind of) angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 HERE IT IS! the response to the sneak peek was crazy, and so i rushed to get this done. i only watched the live action so beware of minor mistakes if you ever saw one. english is also not my first language and you are welcome to correct me anytime for any grammatical errors. title is a lyric from the last time by taylor swift ft. gary lightbody. this fic is also posted in ao3 with its full summary and WITH A BONUS CHAPTER. enjoy reading!
𝐰𝐜 11.3k
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"There you are."
Your soapy, wet hands almost dropped the ceramic plate you were currently washing in the dirty kitchen sink as soon as you heard a familiar smooth and honeyed voice. Abruptly turning off the sink so that the sound of his approaching footsteps were clear to your ears, you wiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand before turning your body towards him.
He was carrying a stack of plates, a fresh batch to add to the pile you had to wash, with an obnoxious yet handsome smile plastered on his lips. You took a deep breath to calm the growing irritation at the bottom of your stomach, reminding yourself that this was your job and you only had a couple of hours to endure until you're free to lock yourself up in your bedroom. You were particularly looking forward to writing today, and the thought of finishing the lyrics to your new song tonight slightly eased your mood. Accepting your fate, you pointed to the remaining space beside the sink.
"Place it there." You told him, albeit begrudgingly as you turn on the sink again and pour more soap on the battered sponge.
You took a mental note to ask Zeff later about buying new sponges, and if you were lucky to catch him in a good mood, you'll put in a request to get the sink fixed and cleaned. Your eyes scanned over the grime and rust around the area. If you were going to spend the rest of your life washing dishes, then you might as well get a proper kitchen sink to do so.
An amused laugh fell out of the golden haired man you grew up with, surprised at your compliance to do the job you hated. The sound nearly sent your poor heart into a dizzying whirlwind of little nuisances called emotions. "What a hardworking woman."
"I could say the same to you. It seems like you have a new record today." You said while you splashed dirtied bowls with soap water, smiling at him teasingly, "Thought you would've been kicked out of the line by now."
"The old man just can't help but to accept the fact that I am a greater cook than him." He smirked, wiping a knife with a dish cloth. Trying not to roll your eyes, you shook your head at his usual display of arrogance, yet you can't help but to grin as you began to hear scratching sounds against the floors.
"Then you better get those chopped carrots ready." You replied, and when you got to finish your sentence, the doors to the kitchen swung open, revealing the head chef.
Zeff's cold and steely eyes immediately landed on the blond. He walked towards him with a fast pace despite only having one leg, his braided mustache bouncing in each step.
"Aye, aye, aye. Why haven't you started on the carrots yet, little eggplant? Can you get any slower?" He scolded, loud enough for the whole staff to hear, but none of them even flinched. You returned back to your plates and glasses, smiling softly. This was part of your routine everyday: to listen in their silly arguments.
However, before the younger chef can reply, you butted in, "Sanji fetched some of the plates for me. Since there's a lunch rush, I couldn't leave the kitchen."
Zeff let out a low hum. You couldn't even see Sanji's face, but you knew him well enough to know that he was smiling triumphantly, knowing that he won this time. After a few minutes of contemplating, the head chef clicked his tongue. "Don't defend him, little lass. But I'll let it slip this time. What are you waiting for, then? Start cutting them!"
"Yes, chef." Sanji answered in a jovial manner, placing the carrots on a chopping board.
Twisting the faucet lever so that the water flow from the sink is gentle and quiet, you then paid attention to their little banters every now and then. You brought up a wine glass and positioned it by your side to try to get a glimpse of the two most important men in your life. Through their reflection on the glass, you can see Zeff hunching over Sanji's knifework, nodding every time the vegetables were correctly sliced.
On the other hand, Sanji was unbothered by the head chef's observations and continued to cut the ingredients calmly. Some of the strands in his hair fell down on one side of his face, covering an eye, and most people would think that it was an unusual way of styling hair; yet it was one thing out of many that you loved the most about him.
You accepted it years ago.
You accepted the fact that you somehow fell in love with Sanji Vinsmoke along your weird journey of working in a sea restaurant full of former pirates and making music while at it. How the pesky feelings grew and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. Maybe it was when he learned to cook your favorite food and gave it to you afterwards, or the way his crystal blue eyes reminded you of snowflakes every winter.
Or maybe it was when he pulled your hair out of jealousy the moment he learned that Zeff would be taking in another child in his care, but brushed it and even braided it after the latter cleared the misunderstanding. Maybe it was when he supported you in your dreams and told you they weren't silly, maybe it was when he fought off drunk men that were trying to hit on you. Or maybe it was the way his voice would drop an octave lower whenever he asks you for a favor. The list could go on and on and you still wouldn't know the reason why. It doesn't matter anyway. You tripped, you fell, and now you're pining.
Drying off the last of the plates, you washed your own hands after and patted them dry on your skirt. You were the last one to leave the kitchen, the other staff already back in their quarters after a long, exhausting day of cooking. You fixed the signature blue bandana tied in your hair then went on your way towards the upper deck.
You weren't blessed with a talent in cooking, so you offered to do chores instead. Washing the dishes, cleaning the restaurant, and doing the laundry were few of the things you do in the Baratie. You can't say that you enjoy it, but you were beyond grateful that Zeff gave you a chance despite his opposition to let a woman work inside his restaurant.
As you were about to go to the newly laundered clothes you hung on a thin wire earlier that morning, you heard two voices speaking. You also smelled cigarette smoke wafting through the air, and you only knew one person who could be smoking at this hour. Your breath hitched in anticipation.
"You bringing a woman to your bed again, Sanji?" The other person asked playfully, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice. You carefully took a peek so you won't accidentally reveal yourself and be accused of eavesdropping. Two people came into view with their backs facing you.
"Now, what are you talking about, Patty? I am a gentleman. I only had a nice chat with the lovely lady and escorted her back to her ship." Sanji interjected, a cigarette hanging on his lips.
Patty huffed. "I didn't know that chatting included kiss marks on jawlines."
This caused Sanji to laugh and say, "Not my fault she was charmed by my food."
"The boss man ain't gonna like it when he finds out about this."
"He's not gonna find out." Sanji assured him, wiping off the said kiss mark on his jaw. You stared at him as he did so, and you pitied the woman who planted that kiss, knowing she was just one of the many beautiful ladies Sanji had flirted with before. However, a tinge of pain in your chest said otherwise, taunting you that it was not pity you're feeling, but foul jealousy.
"Why don't you look for more decent women, eh? How about 'little lass' for a change?" Patty suddenly suggested.
It was like someone had hit your stomach with one of the metal pans in the kitchen with the way it lurched in surprise and nervousness. Your heartbeat started to quicken the longer you waited for his response, making your grip on your skirt tighter. In moments like these, you allowed yourself to hope, to wish that he saw something in you and that he finds you beautiful and lovely enough to be the person standing by his side.
But his answer made all that hope crumble down into nothing but dust.
"I don't see her that way." Sanji said after a long stretch of silence, taking a long drag from the cigarette then releasing the smoke in a single breath.
Ah.
You blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from forming. It's always been like this, so why can't you get used to it? Taking a deep breath, you gulped away the knot forming in your throat and decided to leave. You can grab the clothes later.
"You're too kind for him." Someone behind you spoke, making you jump and tense up. Turning around, you saw Zeff looking at you with an unreadable emotion in his eyes and his hands on his hips, almost like he knew your secret. Of course he does. He always sees everything.
You stumbled on your words. "Sir?"
"That boy is always up to something." He began, switching his attention to Sanji. "One minute he's stubbornly immature in the kitchen, and the next he'll be a thirsty man staring at women like they're liquid booze."
Clearing your throat, you forced a smile.
"Well, he can be a lot sometimes." You agreed, remembering the days when the two of you would fight over irrelevant matters. Then you chuckled and continued, "But he's kind. He's gentle, and lovely, like a freshly made poem you keep repeating in your head. But then he's also confusing, hot-headed, and reckless. He's like the sea, isn't he? Calm yet wrapped with mystery, dangerous yet beautiful..."
You trailed off, an unbearable heat rising up your cheeks and neck once you slowly began to realize that you just ranted out your feelings to the head chef. You glanced at him with wide eyes, preparing to see a disgusted look on his face; however, Zeff didn't appear to be repulsed by your little speech. In fact, the corners of his lips were slightly quirked up.
"But I cannot swim. If I were to drown, he wouldn't save me." You quickly added, hoping to shut down the topic.
He sighed. "You will meet someone who deserves you as much as you deserve them, little lass." He simply said. He then laid his hand out, and on his palm was a little box poorly tied with a ribbon. "Here, for you."
Altnough you were a bit confused at the random gift, you accepted it and cradled the box to your chest. "I'll be okay, Zeff." You insisted, grinning cheekily. "When I become famous, I'll sing my songs here in Baratie, and people would flood the restaurant to hear my singing. And to eat your food too, of course."
The head chef nodded, relief flooding his expression. "I look forward to that." He said while awkwardly returning your smile.
That night, when you were sure that everyone in the Baratie was asleep, you opened the loose floorboard on the floors of your bedroom and grabbed the wooden box you kept hidden for a long time now. You opened the lid and began counting the Berry you saved for the past few months.
Tomorrow was the perfect day to leave.
You just can't stay here. Yes, you had a roof over your head, delicious food to eat everyday, and clean clothes to wear but you were so miserable. This wasn't the life you wanted. You wish to go out there, sing your heart out, and fall in love with someone who actually loves you back.
A knock on your door made you freeze. You held your breath as the person on the other side continued to knock a few more times. "You awake?"
Pain surged through your veins, your chest twisting in agony. Sanji.
"You didn't come down for dinner. I guess you're too tired, hmm?" He said, his muffled voice gentle, and the sound almost prompted you to stand up and open the door for him. But you dug your fingernails in your palms and resisted, because you can't just let this opportunity pass by.
You heard a brief clinking sound before Sanji spoke again, "Sweet dreams, ange."
Once his footsteps faded away, you cautiously moved towards your door and opened it as quietly as you can. There, on the floor, was a small plate with a slice of your favorite desert: angel's food cake, topped with fresh cream and strawberries.
You bent down and saw a note beside the plate. And when you got to read the contents of the note, you burst into tears and sobs that wracked down your entire body.
Happy Birthday
— S.
You ate the cake with tears silently falling down your cheeks, and that was the first time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.
⸻ • ⸻
Today was the day, and you won't allow anyone to ruin it for you.
You had saved enough Berries to travel around the world and sustain yourself for the upcoming months. Your notebook containing the lyrics of the songs you wrote laid open on top of your bed as you spent all night revising them while planning out an itinerary. Then you'll find a place to settle in, a stable job that required doing what you loved the most, and overall just be peaceful and free from pirates and chefs and pirate chefs. It was perfect.
Folded clothes surrounded you everywhere, ready to be packed in your bags. Once you finished stuffing them all in, you grabbed your treasured instrument, the one thing you couldn't live without: your guitar, which has been with you since you were a little child. It was given by your mother and you've been attached to it ever since.
It has scratches all over its wooden surface, and the strings needed some fixing occassionally, but you wouldn't trade it for the greatest treasures in the world. You ran your fingers over it, suddenly feeling like it was lacking something. Seeing the paint chipping off at the corners, you figured that it needed a little color.  You'll need lacquer, and paint if you managed to find some.
You set the guitar aside and left your bedroom to head downstairs to the kitchen. As you were about to push the doors open, a loud, angry shout made you stop in your tracks.
"I won't ever become a pathetic waiter for you!" Sanji's thunderous yells can be heard from outside. Your shoulders tensed up. It was a good thing that brunch was over and all the customers had left.
Zeff's own furious voice followed, "Leave then, for all I care! You can do anything you want, but don't you ever serve one of your shit dishes in my kitchen!"
A frown settled on your face. Their fights were a normal occurrence to you, but this one sounded more grave than usual. Crossing your arms, you stepped in closer to the entrance and hesitated whether you should go in or not. Before you could make a decision, Zeff beat you to it by pushing the doors open, rage emanating from his figure as he ignored and walked past you.
Without hesitation this time, you entered the kitchen, greeted by the sight of Sanji bowing over the counter, breathing heavily, his face covered with his hair. He didn't move an inch even as you approached him, the clacking of the heels in your boots echoing throughout the room.
Both of you were silent as you rummaged through cabinets, trying to find lacquer to cover your guitar with, while he tried his best to calm himself down after his outburst. Many cupboards later, you finally found a small can of used up lacquer, but as you started to reach for it, your hand completely stopped mid-air.
You looked over your shoulder, and found Sanji already recovered from the argument seeing that he was on the move again, preparing a cut of beef tenderloin and other ingredients he needed for tonight's dinner.
Slowly, you closed the cupboard and went closer to him. He still refused to look at you. And so you watched him place a bag of flour on the countertop, slices of cold butter, and a variety of spice bottles to season the meat with.
Sanji began to wrap twine around the beef tenderloin. You sighed, and before you could stop yourself, you grabbed a bowl and decided to help him. Your guitar can wait.
It was rare for you to cook inside the kitchen, having so little knowledge about food and how they were prepared, but you knew this recipe well. You poured two cups of flour through the sifter, followed by placing heaps of the cold butter in the mixture.
The moment you started to mix the dough for the puff pastry, Sanji quickly pointed out in a monotone voice, "You're adding too much butter."
You raised your head and glanced at him, his attention now on the meat he was searing on a skillet. You smiled, glad that he was speaking again.
"You're beginning to sound like the old man himself." You joked lightly.
His jaw clenched. "Don't compare me to that shitty geezer."
In a softer voice, you asked, "What happened?"
"The usual." He replied curtly. "Didn't approve of my dishes."
You perked up upon hearing about a dish he made himself. Sanji was talented when it comes to creating his own recipes, and sometimes, you would be the person he chooses to test them out. Every time he lets you taste them, your chest would feel warm and you wouldn't be able to sleep for days because you'll keep replaying it in your head. "What did you make this time?"
"It doesn't matter. He'll never agree to any of them."
"Maybe I can—"
"Drop it. Don't poke your nose in things you're not involved." Sanji cut you off, his hardened gaze meeting your concerned stare. You only blinked at him, straightening up.
"I see." You muttered, eyes landing on the bag of flour. You looked at him, then at the flour, then back at him. A smile began to form on your lips as a devious plan formulated itself in your brain. Sticking your hand inside the bag of flour, you took a fistful of the pillowy powder and threw it straight into his face.
Sanji jumped back, flinching and closing his eyes when some of the flour's particles managed to enter them. His jaw dropped open in surprise, hands quickly removing themselves from the skillet's handle to dust off the flour that rested on his now white hair. You tried to stifle a laugh as you watched him struggle getting the flour out.
Once he managed to clean himself, he stared straight at you and said in the calmest way possible, even if you knew deep inside that he was fuming, "What was that for?"
A high-pitched snort left your mouth. You covered it to prevent yourself from laughing.
You cleared your throat and smiled at him innocently. "Am I involved now?"
His piercing blue eyes then started to sparkle with mirth, amusement replacing the vexation previously swimming in them. He also looked to be trying to push down a smile, and that made your heart skip a beat. "You're insufferable."
He reached for the bag of flour. You squeaked and took off running, trying to escape from his attack, but he still managed to throw a small amount on you. Giggling, you ran the opposite direction to confuse him, and yet he caught up with you, throwing another round of flour. This time, it hit your cheeks, making you laugh loudly. He laughed along, pointing a finger at you because you probably looked crazy at the moment.
You tried to take the bag of flour away from him, but he just took it an as opportunity to catch your arm and grip it firmly. He pulled you into his chest, caging you completely.
With your cheeks warm and your breaths short, you tilted your head up and looked at him, noticing the way that you were both covered in flour; and not only that, you also noticed the short distance between your bodies and how your noses were almost touching. His pupils were dilated, black dominating the alluring blue shade that kept haunting your dreams. You drank in the attention he was giving you, the breathing coming out from his soft lips, and the comfortable silence that wrapped around the both of you like a safe little bubble.
"Caught you." Sanji muttered, voice deeper and huskier, making you let out a quiet sigh. His arms snaked around your waist as he leaned in closer. A million questions started to run inside your head, begging to know what this situation was and how you got into it. "Nowhere to run now, darling."
A slamming of doors shattered the secret moment you shared, and you immediately pulled away from each other. You pushed down your disappointment and hid it in the secret crevice in your heart as the two of you faced your intruder.
Zeff observed your flour-laden figures, his thick eyebrows scrunched together in irritation. He then demanded, voice seething and dripping with anger, "What in the hell are you two little brats doing?"
Sanji blurted out in defense, "Zeff, we—she was the one who started it!"
"And you went along with it!" You accused incredulously, grinning from ear-to-ear. Sanji grinned back, shaking his head and biting his lower lip.
"Oh, shut up before I stitch your mouths! Just by looking at you two, I already know that you snot-nosed shits are both at fault!" Zeff shouted, clicking his tongue at the sight of the half emptied flour. "Wasted them good flour for your childish fights. You're even worse than fatwits. Get out and clean the toilets!"
"Not the shitty toilets!" Sanji groaned, and you couldn't blame him for it. The bathroom area smelled revolting and the floors were always wet for some reason.
"I don't wanna hear complaints from you when you've dirtied my kitchen! Off you go!" Zeff dismissed, and you can't help but to laugh again when you saw Sanji pout like a little kid.
The head chef watched the two of you leave the kitchen together while giggling and exchanging fond looks. Patty, who also saw the whole situation unfold, suddenly appeared beside him, snickering, "I can already hear the wedding bells ringing."
Zeff took a deep, tired breath.
"Oh, they're ringing alright."
You cleaned and scrubbed the toilets the entire afternoon with the man you're in love with, flushing your plans down the drain and forgetting all about them, and that was the second time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.
⸻ • ⸻
You didn't know how you ended up in a ship full of pirates.
Well, maybe you knew. A little. But it wasn't supposed to be like this.
Your knuckles were beginning to turn white with how tight you were clenching them. A mix of emotions swirled around in your chest, namely confusion, impatience, and hesitation, pondering about whether you should be irritated at yourself or at Sanji.
The opportunity was there, handed to you like a steak on a golden platter, or a miracle that suddenly fell from the sky. The day you met Luffy and his strange pirate crew was the day you immediately realized that he was the key to your exit from the Baratie. He was friendly; a good pirate, according to his own words, so you figured he would allow you to tag along for a while until you find an island to get off to. You just had to ask for his permission and wait for his reply.
Luffy agreed. And you were ecstatic. You were finally going to leave Sanji Vinsmoke and your pathetic, unrequited feelings behind.
Or so you thought.
You watched in horror as he followed you when you boarded the Going Merry, also carrying a bag of his own. He said something along the lines of Luffy needing a cook for the journey to the Grand Line but you couldn't care less. You got here first. Why was he here?
So here you were, sitting in a corner, lonelier than ever and regretting your life decisions. You watched Luffy and his friends celebrate after defeating the pirate Arlong and saving Coco Village from his inhuman hold over its people, but Sanji and the beautiful orange haired Nami were nowhere in sight.
The thought of them being gone together at the same time left a bitter aftertaste on your tongue.
Nami. The first time you laid eyes on her, ethereal was the word that came up to your mind. With soft deep saffron locks that framed her small face and a wide blue eyed gaze, she would have the cruelest of men begging for mercy and affection at her feet.
Unfortunately, Sanji was one of those men.
Fuck, you cursed mentally, rubbing your face with your hands to try and forget about the times he flirted with her and the moments he wouldn't stop talking about her or kept asking about her favorite food or dessert or if she's into blonds. Your already battered heart doesn't need the usual reminder that he'll never see you that way, that you weren't going to experience his sweet words and his loving gazes.
You took a sharp breath. It's okay, you tell yourself over and over again until they were buried in your heart. They'll make a great pair, Sanji the cook and Nami the thief. A strong man with an equally strong woman. Yes. That makes sense.
You'll leave soon anyway, and you'll no longer have to worry about seeing them or how they were going to end up together.
And yet you can't help but to think about the things that could've been if you were the one he was in love with instead.
You were crossing your arms and hugging yourself as the crisp afternoon air was getting chilly when a hand gripping a shot glass filled with amber liquid appeared in front of you. Looking up, you saw Luffy smiling widely at you, waving the glass encouragingly.
"Come on, just one drink! Usopp poured this for you!" The captain exclaimed heartily, obviously trying to uplift your spirits and to make you feel welcomed in his crew, even though you did nothing but to guard the Going Merry while they were fighting for their lives.
You shook your head and smiled politely. "No, I don't drink. Sorry."
Luffy's smile faltered, but he recovered quickly. He nodded, setting the glass down on top of a barrel. "Well, okay." He said, then turned to Usopp, who was currently downing a whole bottle of whiskey. "Hey, where's Nami?"
"Oh, she's with the cook," Usopp replied cheekily, wiping his mouth after drinking. There was a teasing tone in his voice as he continued, "Someone's getting a boyfriend tonight!"
With that said, you reached for the shot glass that Luffy was offering you earlier, grabbed it swiftly, and poured the whole thing down your throat. The whiskey tasted unfamiliar, and it burned and made you dizzy at first taste, but it doesn't matter; as long as it can make you forget just for a little while, you were willing to drink more of the horrible beverage.
Zoro, the green haired swordsman and the captain's first mate, stared at you as if you had lost your mind, but a tinge of concern was visibly written on his face. "Woah, slow down." He warned sternly.
"I thought you didn't drink." Was all Luffy said, blinking in confusion. You chuckled tiredly.
"Now I do."
Drink after drink, glass after glass. You lost count on how many times Usopp poured whiskey for you, or how many times Zoro shook his head in disbelief. Luffy was the same old happy-go-lucky captain throughout the disaster that was starting to brew inside you, turning your brain into mush. You can barely lift your head or your fingers as you asked for another shot in an incoherent voice. Luckily, Usopp was still able to understand you, tipping the whiskey bottle yet again towards your glass.
You started to raise the glass to your lips, eager to just get severely drunk and be over with it already. However, you suddenly felt strong fingers wrap around your wrist to stop you from drinking; and when you caught sight of a familiar silver ring with Baratie's jolly roger inlaid upon it, you didn't need to look up to know who it was.
Sanji's voice was unnervingly calm as he questioned the crew, but the slight shake in his words lets you know otherwise. "Which one of you allowed her to drink?"
"No one. She took the glass and made the decision herself." Zoro drawled, challenging the chef, "The last time I checked, waiter, you were supposed to be the one responsible for her."
Sanji ignored him and turned his attention to you. He stole the shot glass away from you, then kneeled and held your hands comfortingly, smiling. "Come on, ange. It's time for you to rest now." He said quietly, yet loud enough for only you to hear.
You stubbornly shook your head repeatedly and whined loudly. "No! Don't touch me!" You cried, prying your hands away from his, "I don't like you...!"
Zoro huffed in amusement at your declaration. Sanji glared at him for a short second before looking at you again. This time, he stood and gently placed his arms under your shoulders to raise you up. Once you were standing on your feet, he swept you up and carried you bridal style with ease. Another whine escaped your lips.
"Put me down! I want another drink, please, just one more!" You pleaded while throwing weak punches on his chest. Sanji only smiled and began to lead you towards the sleeping quarters. You continued to thrash in his arms as he walked slowly and in small steps so he wouldn't drop you.
Sanji carefully set you down on your hammock. "No drinks for you until you actually learn how to take them." He told you, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. His thumb caressed the soft skin of your cheek and rubbed it in circles, noting how fast you were heating up due to the alcohol. You pouted.
"Pretty please, Sanji...please..."
He chuckled, staring at you intensely. "Maybe some other time, ange."
You went quiet, staring back at him with half-lidded eyes. Then, you crossed your arms like a child and asked, "Why do you keep calling me that?"
Sanji raised a brow. "Call you what? Ange?"
You nodded. "I don't like it."
He began to smile, the dimples on his cheeks appearing. You briefly wondered if he'd allow you to poke and feel them. "Why?"
"I don't know what it means. Is it an insult?" You wondered aloud, your eyes widening in curiosity.
A hearty and warm laugh came out from Sanji, his eyes forming half-moons as he cackled at your words like they were the biggest joke he heard in his entire life, "Oh, my dear girl, how could I possibly insult you?" He managed to speak between laughs, "It means angel. You're an angel, to me at least. My angel."
Oh.
Your lips parted in surprise. Blinking, you simply said, "You're not Sanji."
He's not Sanji. He wouldn't call you angel; you're not even sure if he found you beautiful or attractive. You wear the same old tattered dresses that Zeff bought for you a long time ago, and you didn't even bother to style your hair or put on face powder like all the other beautiful ladies do. You look nowhere near to an angel.
But Sanji only grinned. "I assure you, I am very much Sanji. The little brat who pulled your hair when we were barely eleven years old."
Your breath hitched at the thought of him remembering one of your fond memories in your childhood. "You remembered."
"Of course I remembered." He whispered, cupping your cheek one last time before he got ready to leave. He turned on his heel and was about to walk away when you spoke.
"Are you going to see her again?" You asked, and he quickly noticed how broken your voice sounded. Sanji faced you in concern and was taken aback with how deep you were frowning. He figured that you were just drunk and women tend to be different when they were intoxicated. You were no exception to that, it seemed.
"Hm?" He hummed, prompting you to elaborate further.
Tears began to form in the corners of your eyes. You shakily mumbled, "Nami...you're going to Nami, aren't you?"
Sanji froze, an icy cold rush filling up his body. A knot formed in his throat, and it continued to tighten the longer he stared at your face. You looked so hurt—like he just destroyed your beloved guitar into pieces. Your lower lips were trembling, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. For a moment, he couldn't find the courage to answer you, feeling like he could die at any second now if he answers your question.
But the answer was simple.
"Yes." He breathed out, a sharp pain stabbing through his heart.
And it only became worse when a teardrop finally rolled down your cheek. "Why?" You rasped, and Sanji didn't know that a single word can hurt this much.
He tried to give you a reassuring smile but awfully failed to do so. He started to explain, "We were just discussing something—"
"Why not me?"
Those three words coming out of your mouth felt like a final blow to his heart. He can feel himself bleed, drained of life and soul because of you and your words alone, and he let you. He let you kill him, he let you make him swim in his own guilt and he doesn't why, why, why.
More tears fell out of your angelic eyes, staining your cheeks with wet trails, and he tried to hold himself back from wiping them off. You choked out, "Why not me, Sanji? I have been asking myself that question for the past decade, and it eats my brain every night like some kind of plague, but I let it anyway. Because why? Why can't you just recognize me and appreciate me and see me? Why can't you go to me if you want to talk about your dreams, or what dish you're planning to create? Why do you have to seek solace in other women when you have me standing by your side everyday, me who is willing to listen to you and whatever you have to say?"
Angry, red rimmed eyes glared at him. Your hair strands stuck to your skin and framed your face as sweat began to form on your forehead. Teardrops clung to your wet eyelashes and your face was drenched like you just took a swim in the ocean. You were burning with fury and rage and want, struggling to breathe properly after your little rant, and Sanji thought you couldn't be more beautiful. You were so beautiful.
"Oh but I couldn't blame you for that. She's just so beautiful, so perfect, and so strong. She could give you anything you wanted and she could be anything that I never was." You hiccuped, smiling forcibly, "But in the end...I will still love you. I will always love you. I think."
You scooted closer to him, leaning in until your faces only had a few inches apart between them. You didn't notice how his lips were slightly parted in shock, nor his eyes that were starting to glisten with his own tears. "No matter where I flee to, or where I lay my heart on, or which skies I look at—it's always you, Sanji. It's always been you."
"I had been so selfless all these years, Sanji. So please, can you pretend to like me too, just for today, before I leave?" You whispered meekly, cupping his cheeks with both of your hands. Numb and completely speechless, Sanji simply gave you a single nod as a response.
You gingerly pressed your lips against his, and he immediately tasted the saltiness of your tears. But your lips were soft, as he expected from an angel like you. And so he couldn't help himself; he closed his eyes and delicately kissed you back, repeating your name in his mind like a sacred prayer and wishing to the stars above to not let the moment end.
However, you broke the kiss by losing consciousness and falling down on your hammock, knocked out and peacefully snoring.
Sanji spaced out, not moving from his position. No. It's not that he didn't want to move—he couldn't move. He couldn't feel anything except for the drumming of his heart, knocking on his chest desperately. His lips were still tingling and his ears and neck were warming up.
He gulped, loosening the collar of his shirt to cool himself down. He needed a cigarette. And a drink.
Scrambling to get up even with his trembling legs, Sanji managed to stand properly. He avoided your sleeping figure and decided to get out of the room as soon as possible. However, when he took a step forward, his foot touched a notebook lying on the floor.
Sanji bent down and took the notebook. He flipped it open, and after reading only the first page, he finally came into a conclusion.
Heartbroken, drunk, and unaware, you dozed off the rest of the afternoon. When nightfall settled on the azure horizon and dusk fell on the rough surface of the sea, you missed the chance to walk away from the crew yet again; and that was the third time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.
⸻ • ⸻
The next morning, you woke up feeling much better with only the memory of you drinking and crying yourself to sleep and nothing else. Everything was normal, and the crew began to make plans for their next adventure during breakfast.
Everything was normal, except for Sanji, who was quiet throughout the whole discussion. And of course, just like always, you were the only one who noticed his strange behavior. You tried to catch his eyes, but he looked at everywhere except you.
When he finally met your gaze, you gave him a soft smile, hoping he would smile back and everything was fine and you were just overthinking it.
He doesn't.
⸻ • ⸻
"Are you really going to leave?"
Taking your gaze away from the heart shaped cloud you spotted on the clear blue sky, you faced the person who asked the question you were dreading for some time now. Luffy was staring curiously at you, awaiting your answer. You can't help but to smile softly at the captain, whose kindness you have yet to repay.
"I believe we already talked about this, captain." You said, recalling your short conversation last night. He kept asking you if you were really sure about your decision while his eyes darted to a certain blond haired chef every time he shoots you the question. It was strange, and you felt even more suspicious when Sanji pretended not to hear your answer and even refused to glance your way.
Luffy put his hands on his hips. "You know, you're welcome to stay and be a part of my crew."
You crossed your arms, smile growing wide. "And what, pray tell, is my role? Sing battle songs and chant your names while you swing your gummy arms at pirates?" You joked playfully.
The young captain stroked his chin in deep thought, almost like he was considering your suggestion. "That's not a bad idea."
You bursted out laughing, shaking your head in disbelief, "I'll leave first thing in the morning. I told Nami to dock at a nearby island."
"What about Sanji?" He suddenly questioned, leaving you flabbergasted for a split second. You weren't prepared to hear Sanji's name after days of not talking to him properly.
Him not speaking with you wasn't a strange occurence at all; back when you were still in the Baratie, there would be days when Sanji wouldn't bother to acknowledge your presence and would completely ignore you. This would happen whenever he was extremely busy with his cooking or he had a disagreement with Zeff.
And it seemed like this was one of those days, seeing that he had been ignoring you for about a week now. Yes, you have been keeping count. Although he doesn't appear to be angry with you, the short-lived exchanges and the abrupt cut-offs before you could say anything deeply concerned you more than it should have.
You tried to rack your brains for reasons on why he was acting like this. Maybe Nami had rejected him for the hundredth time, or Zoro kept throwing insults in his direction—or maybe his cigarette packet had ran out. Maybe his kitchen knives weren't sharp anymore and he was struggling in the kitchen.
Should you ask him? Should you go to him and demand him to tell you what's wrong?
You pressed your lips together. It sounded like the worst idea you've thought of so far. You convinced yourself that Sanji was fine and he'd be back to normal in no time; there would no need to talk to him.
"What about him?" You faltered, chuckling to ease the tension in your body.
"You care for each other." Luffy explained bluntly and matter-of-factly, "What does he think about you leaving?"
A shaky sigh made its way out of your lips. How will you tell the captain that his cook has been avoiding you like you were some kind of rotten fish these days?
"I..." You stammered, gathering the courage to lie to Luffy even if you thought it would be the gravest sin you could commit, "He...agrees. Yeah. No need to worry."
Luffy grinned, but it didn't look normal at all. You winced in embarrassment. He knew that you were lying and was totally unconvinced.
Luckily, he didn't voice it out. He only nodded and said, "Great! Oh, I have an idea! Why don't you sing for us before we part ways? Think of it as a farewell party for the crew."
Hearing the pure and genuine excitement dripping from his voice, you couldn't turn him down. It was a good idea too, and now that you thought about it, you haven't performed for them yet. "Sure." You agreed, shrugging.
He raised his fist up in the air and cheered. You smiled, watching as he shouted for his crewmates' names to come down and listen to you sing. You prepared yourself for an impromptu performance, making sure that your guitar was properly tuned and your voice was clear enough to give you the best version of your singing. Sitting on top of a barrel, you faced your audience of four, all their eager eyes watching your every move.
As you struck the first chord to your song, you tried hard not to think that Sanji wasn't there to watch you sing the song you secretly dedicate to him.
In the kitchen, Sanji busied himself by plating the food that he'll serve to his fellow crew mates for dinner. He grabbed a large plate and placed the chicken drumsticks that his captain favored, but Luffy wasn't the one in his mind when he cooked those. Looking at the food, he wondered if you would love them too.
He shook his thoughts off and took the plate with him outside. Approaching the crew, his steps slowed down when he heard a familiar singing voice and a melodic tune of a guitar.
Sanji almost dropped the plate.
It was you. Of course it was you, you were the only one he knew who had a voice like that. It was you, and you were singing with a lovely smile painted on your sweet lips, the very same lips that touched his a few days ago, resulting in him not getting a wink of sleep every night. The beam of the sunset right behind you colored your hair in the different shades of the sky as the dulcet-filled notes you made echoed throughout the vast sea. For a moment, he was worried that you were going to attract ferocious sea beasts with your angelic voice and steal you away from him.
He could hear his blood pound in his ears the longer he observed you from afar. You looked happy. Happier than you were when you stayed with him and Zeff. His chest tightened, knowing that you leaving and go on adventures on your own was probably the best decision you could make, even if that means leaving him too.
You were finishing up your song by the time you saw Sanji standing behind Usopp, silently listening. He met your gaze, and for the first time ever, you couldn't read his mind. His expression was blank as you stared at each other, and as you opened your mouth to say something, he cut you off.
"Dinner's ready." Sanji announced shortly, setting down the plate in front of Luffy and then walked away without saying another word.
That was your final straw. You immediately put down your guitar and followed him into the kitchen. You didn't care about how you felt Nami's watchful eyes on you as you went after him, nor how Luffy was scarfing down the dinner and was definitely going to finish it all before you could take a bite; you just chased the blond with determination oozing out of you.
You roughly pushed the door open and found Sanji washing the pans he used for cooking. He glanced at you briefly then quickly looked away after. This irritated you even more as you demanded, "Is there something bothering you?"
"You should eat before the food gets cold." He said with an empty voice.
"Sanji!"
He stiffened. You rarely raised your voice at anyone. Sighing in defeat, he dried off his hands and fully faced you.
Your eyes were sharper than his knives, cutting straight into his soul. "I've known you for a long time now, do you think I don't notice whenever you have a problem?" You glowered, taking a step closer to him, "You have a problem. What is it?"
It happened fast. His hand landed on the small of your back and pulled you to his chest, and the other was placed on top of your cheek, and in a single motion, Sanji captured your lips with his. You gasped in the kiss, your heart dropping to the soles of your feet when he tilted his face to deepen it. Your fingers tightly grasped the sleeves of his shirt for support as he passionately moved his lips against yours. A pleasant heat ran down your spine, your whole body tingling and warming up. You were simply drowning. There was no other way to describe it, and it was only caused by his fervent kisses.
Sanji pulled away, resting your forehead on top of yours, and you took it as an opportunity to breathe in air that you lost. "You are the problem." He murmured lowly, eyes darting down to your swollen lips. Confused and lightheaded, you didn't get the chance to retort.
"Ever since that night, ange, you occupy my thoughts. You gave me a taste of your lips and you didn't even remember the next day. Do you know how that feels, hm?" He said, pecking your lips once again. You made a noise in the back of your throat, turning your head sideways so he couldn't kiss you anymore, but he took your chin and hungrily connected both of your lips.
He spoke between kisses, "You torture me. Ever since I read those songs you wrote about me in that little notebook of yours, you torture me with your presence."
That was when you snapped out of your daze. With all the force you could muster, you placed your hands on his chest and pushed him away. Sanji stepped back, surprised at your reaction.
Without giving him a chance to ask you anything, you ran off and left the kitchen, slamming the door loudly so you wouldn't hear him calling your name and be tempted to go back in his arms again.
You arrived in the sleeping quarters, locking the door behind you. You were sure that the others would understand you needing your alone time. Once you made sure you were on your own, your body collapsed altogether, your back sliding down against the door as you panted heavily.
He knows, was all you could think about. He knows about the songs. He knows about your feelings.
Well, you finally got your answer to your previous question, but a more complicated one replaced it. With trembling hands, your fingers raised themselves to your lips, touching its surface. You hated the way that you still felt his warmth on top of them.
A lone tear slid down the side of your nose. He was cruel. Sanji was cruel.
You didn't come out of that room for days, refusing to talk to anyone as you gathered your scrambled throughts and pulled yourself back together, and that was the fourth time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.
⸻ • ⸻
A stack of books, most of them being a collection of maps compiled in one, rested beside you while you flipped through the pages of the one you chose among them.
Nami has been lending you her books ever since you shut yourself out from the crew. You ignored all of them and only let Nami in, hoping that she'll be able to understand you; and she did. She was a good listener. Although you weren't particularly close with each other, you trusted her and told her everything: your dreams, your problems, your feelings, and Sanji. In return, she confided in you too.
"Here. So you can finally decide on where you will go to," You recall her saying while she handed you her collection of world map books, "and to distract yourself, of course."
"You're too kind, Nami." You said in admiration. Maybe this is why Sanji was enamored with her. She was a beauty inside and out.
Nami shrugged, yet she was smiling. "Just helping a fellow woman out."
The books did take your mind off the stubborn blond haired man that was still resting inside your heart, even if it was only for a fleeting moment. You tried to search for islands that will be suitable for you to start your career, narrowing some of them down into choices, but your eyes wil always lead back to where the Baratie was stationed.
You leaned back against your chair, letting your head hit the wall with a soft thud as you released a sigh of frustration. Not only will you need to prepare yourself for a journey all alone, but you also have to talk to Sanji sooner or later, whether you like it or not. The kiss distracted you more than the books Nami gave you. You think of it in the morning and dream of it at night, and it only got worse every time you remembered that he kissed you like he loved you.
Relaxing in your seat, you closed the book and listened to the silence.
The Going Merry docked for a quick trip to a market to gather fresh ingredients for food. Sanji will be gone for the meantime and you were free to roam around the ship without his heated stare boring holes in your skin.
But the peace was ruined by rushed footsteps and Usopp breaking into the room, almost destroying the door with his brute force. You frowned, standing up on alert when you saw how nervous he looked.
"Sanji's injured!" He exclaimed, which got your brow raising, knowing that he had a long history of lying to people. However, he forcibly pulled Sanji inside, and you were greeted by the sight of a bruised man, whose lips were bleeding and cheeks were starting to yellow.
You immediately sprang into action. You took the first aid kit you packed in your bag and grabbed his arm, making him sit down on your chair.
"How did you get into a fight in just a span of ten minutes?" You asked in irritation, wetting a cloth with saltwater to wipe off the blood on his lips.
Sanji grunted, tensing up when you took a hold of his face and dabbed on his lip using the cloth. "Some petty vendor was selling overpriced onions, and they weren't even the best of quality."
You stopped for a minute, glaring at him. "So you decided to punch them instead of talking it over?"
He only huffed in reply. Pursing your lips in annoyance, you continued to treat his wounds in silence, noticing him flinching and wincing in pain whenever you compress the bruised area with ice. "Who's being petty now?" You scolded impatiently, "Stay still."
The only sound that filled the room was you hastily rummaging your kit trying to find an ointment and an awkward silence that made you want to jump into the sea and never swim back to the surface. You unscrewed the lid of the jar of ointment and scooped some with your finger, looking at Sanji as you did so. He looked back at you quietly, and you tried hard not to think about the fact that you have to touch his lips in order for you to apply it.
It seemed like he realized that too, glancing down at the dollop of ointment on top of your finger, then back to you. You just gave him a small, uneasy smile, showing him that you weren't uncomfortable even though you were, and shyly took a step forward.
As gently as you could, you spread the ointment on the wounded area on his lips, reminding yourself to not be distracted on how soft they looked.
"A busted lip because of overpriced ingredients...it almost feels like you're doing this on purpose so I wouldn't get the chance to leave you." You half-heartedly joked to lighten up the atmosphere. However, you were greeted by nothing, not even a smart comeback or a funny joke from the blond. You hesitantly observed his reaction, and saw that he was grim and serious, guilt swimming in his beryl blue eyes.
The realization began to sink in.
Oh.
You should've known from the start. Sanji was a great fighter; he wouldn't be injured in the first place. "Sanji..."
Sanji took your wrist and held on it tightly. Your breath hitched, only then realizing how much you missed his touch, his warm, gentle, and loving touch.
"Let me go." You weakly said, even though deep down, you didn't want him to.
"Tell me you're not in love with me." He said, sounding utterly desperate that it almost made you fall down to your knees, "Tell me, and I'll let you go."
When you didn't answer, he stood up and cupped your cheeks with both of his hands. He pleaded, "Look at me. Look into my eyes and tell me you don't love me."
"Please don't do this." You whispered in pain as you tearfully shook your head.
"Stay. Please, stay." Sanji begged, pressing his forehead against yours, "What can I do to make you stay? Tell me. I'll do anything. Do I need to kneel? To beg for your forgiveness? Tell me what you want. I'll do anything in my power to make you the happiest woman in all of East Blue. Just please, don't leave."
"I can't." You answered, closing your eyes, a few tears streaming down your cheeks. You hate the way he was making this so hard for you.
He only continued, "Hate me, curse me, shout at me, if you must. Anything but you leaving me. Or do you want to make me yours? Then I am letting you. Whatever you want, mon ange—my heart, my soul, my attention, they're all yours. I'm all yours."
"No..."
"The crew will be incomplete without you." Sanji insisted in anguish.
"I have dreams, Sanji. Just like you and the rest of the crew." You explained softly, placing your own hands on top of his in attempt to comfort him and relieve him from his confusion.
However, he was persistent, "You can achieve your dreams without leaving. You can stay, and I will support you in everything you do. You're better off staying with me—with us."
You said firmly, "I will not spend the rest of my life doing what I don't want."
"Even with me by your side?"
A few second pass before you finally reply, "I'd be miserable."
Pain flashed on his face, making you want to take back your own words, yet you remained strong and unyielding. Sanji took a deep breath and stepped away from you, saying, "I'd rather have you miserable here than go out there and encounter ruthless pirates."
The statement quickly irritated you, frowning at him deeply. "You think I'll have problems with pirates when I've been serving them for years?"
"Oh, darling, you wouldn't be able to say that once you've encountered worse ones, with bounties higher than you could ever imagine." He snapped, voice raising with each word.
"I can manage on my own!" You bit back frustratingly, your tears evaporating into anger.
Sanji scowled at you, impatiently running his fingers through his hair. "You can't fight!" He shouted, voice breaking in the process, and with it, your heart too. It shattered like glass and the shards landed and pierced through your lungs, rendering you breathless. Your eyes widened, mouth dropping open in shock.
Seeing your expression, he immediately snapped back to reality, regret writing itself on his face. You shook your head in disbelief and let out a humorless laugh, "Are you telling me that I'm weak?"
"I didn't say that." Sanji quickly said in a hushed manner.
"But you're implying it!" You choked, still can't believe that he doesn't trust you. He doesn't trust you enough to accomplish your dreams on your own, and that he was not confident that you'll succeed without him by your side.
You wanted to ask him about the passionate kiss you two shared, about his loving gestures that confused the hell out of you, about his fresh bruises that he received on purpose so that he can get you to stay, and why he did all of that. You needed confirmation. But the question that left you was, "What am I to you?"
Sanji stayed quiet, and your heart broke again once more. Deciding that this was the last time he breaks it, you walked away and left him alone to tend to his own injuries.
He lit up a cigarette as he listened to your fading footsteps. A single teardrop fell down from his eye the moment he placed the cigarette between his lips, and all he could think about was that you hurt more than the bruises on his cheeks.
You packed your bags and spoke with Nami, telling her that you were ready, and that was the fifth time you tried to leave Sanji Vinsmoke—and tomorrow, you'll finally succeed.
⸻ • ⸻
The sun had just risen, and the early morning breeze smelled of the ocean, the calming sound of waves filling your ears. It was one of those days when the sky was clear and the sunlight wasn't harsh but pleasantly warm on your skin, making it the perfect day to start working on a new song and strum on your guitar for the melody.
But today was different. You were standing on the first step of the ship's staircase that leads to a docking station and a wooden walkway towards an unfamiliar island that was soon to be your new home. Your fingers clenched on the strap of your bag, finding this moment to be surreal. You have tried many times to leave, and here it was, right on the palms of your hands.
"So. This is it, huh?" Your trance broke as Nami commented beside you. She was the only one to bid you farewell and watch you leave, since the others were still asleep. You thought of Sanji and how he looked like when he was sleeping, staring at his handsome features so you can memorize them and implant it in your mind. He was your first love; you didn't want to forget him.
You smiled. "Thank you, Nami." You said earnestly, "I would've liked to spend more time with you. It's tiring to speak to men sometimes, don't you think?"
She laughed. "Yeah." Then, she caged you in her arms and hugged you tightly, surprising you for a second before you laughed too and returned the hug. "Stay safe out there."
"I will."
"So you planned to leave? Without saying goodbye?" A new voice interrupted, breaking the hug you and Nami both shared. You swiveled to look behind you, and there stood Sanji, appearing to have just woken up, with the strands of his blond hair sticking up in different directions. You observed his dejected expression, the downward tilt of the corners of his lips, and the glistening of his tired eyes. You stared at his crumpled suit and his crooked necktie. Despite how messy he looked, he will always be perfect to you.
You walked forward and looked at him fondly, with your eyes full of so much love reserved for him and him only. "Thought it would hurt less." You said, raising your hands to touch his hair and brush it down, "And I was right. How can I leave now when you're standing in front of me?"
He sighed shakily as he felt your soft fingers threading through his hair. "Then don't." He whispered. You only smiled at him. He didn't smile back, but that didn't stop you from taking both of his hands and caressing his knuckles using your thumb.
"Every night, I'll look at the moon and think of you. I'll tell my stories, sing my songs, and whisper my secrets to it. Just like what you and me would do when we were little." You told him softly and endearingly, "Would you be so kind as to look at the moon too and think of me?"
Sanji's eyebrows were scrunched together in agony, muttering, "I can't make you stay, can I?"
When you didn't answer, he just nodded his head, understanding what you wanted to stay. He forced a smile and tightly squeezed your hands. "I'm sorry."
"I'm yours." You answered, placing a soft kiss on the back of his hands. After letting your lips linger on his skin for a while, you slowly let go, and with one last glance at his face, you stepped back and made your way downstairs to the docking area, leaving before you could change your mind.
Sanji watched you go. While you walked away from the Going Merry, from the crew, and from him, not once did you look back. He just watched as you went farther away and became smaller in the distance, until you blended in with the crowd and you were just another person in a sea of people. And then you were gone.
It was the sixth time you tried to leave Sanji Vinsmoke, and this time, you finally did.
⸻ • ⸻
The red velvet curtains began to draw in front of you, gently falling back down on the stage as you said your final good-byes to your audience for tonight, a bouquet of roses cradled in your arms while you blew delicate kisses towards them. You can still hear their loud cheering and clapping even as you retreated to your personal room backstage.
A middle-aged woman greeted you inside when you stepped in the room and closed the door behind you, whistling. "There she is, our talented rising star!"
You only laughed at the silly nickname, setting the bouquet of roses that one of the people gave you in tonight's show on top of your vanity table. "You exaggerate, Madam. I have only performed two shows in your beautiful theater."
The madam, who was the owner of the theater you were currently working in, shook her head in disagreement. "And those two shows are sold out!" She informed you proudly, placing her hands on your shoulders, "Let me know if you want to add more, you are welcome to perform here anytime."
"I'll think about it." You replied, smiling. The madam patted your shoulder twice before she left you alone, humming happily to herself. You huffed in amusement, fully aware that she doesn't appreciate your talents at all, but only cared for the money.
Regardless of that, you were happy. It has been a couple of years since you left the Strawhat Pirates and pursued your dreams all on your own, and you've been traveling to different islands across the seas to perform. You never had a permanent home; being a musician meant going to many places from time to time to share and spread out your music.
Yet you can't help but miss life on the sea.
You missed washing dishes on the Baratie and the late night conversations you had with Zeff. You missed Luffy and his weird antics, Usopp and his jokes, Zoro and his blunt comments, and Nami and her kindness.
You missed Sanji and everything that he was.
You stared at your reflection in the vanity mirror on your desk. Your hair was pinned neatly, you had make-up on and you were dressed fancily for your performance. Years ago, you wouldn't look like this. It was hard to believe how much you've grown and changed, but these days, you felt like you wanted your old self back. Slowly, you took the itchy pins off your hair, and cleaned your face with warm water and a cloth. You replaced your dress in a more comfortable one and went outside.
Looking up at the night sky, you saw a bright full moon with no stars in sight. It was just the moon and its beauty, illuminating the pitch black sky with its glow. You silently watched it, a smile growing on your lips as you felt a tug on your heart.
"I wonder what you're up to, Sanji." You thought aloud, cheeks heating up at the memory of your first love and his golden hair and his contagious smiles. Then, to your surprise, a voice spoke unexpectedly.
"Well, I am fortuitous to have met such a beautiful angel."
You froze. No one referred to you as angel except for one.
Sanji.
As you turned around, he was already walking towards you. And there you both were, bathing under the moonlight, with him grinning at you mischievously and you looking at him lovingly.  You didn't know how he found you, but what mattered was that he searched for you and now he was here, and he was still making your heart beat fast in your chest just like all those years ago.
How the pesky feelings stayed and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. But maybe it was because he was standing in front of you, and the way his next words made you run into his open arms and kiss him until you were both breathless,
"There you are, ange."
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taglist part 1 @angel-luv3r @appalost @chexmixtrys @nimtano @sparklyphantom @natalieisfreeziing @reallysparklychaos @maydaylovex @johnnysactualgf @mochamei @kisumisumi @ttokyocat @mypurplewinee @rosaliinnn @nonniecannie @court-jester-stuff @detectivelucy07 @megumiif @untitledandrandom @erin-the-king @fangeekkk @nikolaevna-art @candesstuff @chaoticevilbakugo
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waitimcomingtoo · 6 months
Text
Two Normal Arms
Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!reader
Synopsis: when Peter breaks his arm, he notices he gets a lot of attention from you. So much attention that he prolongs the broken arm as long as he can
Masterlist
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Peter had a strict no texting while swinging rule.
That rule was broken one night on patrol during a particularly heated back and forth text conversation with Ned over whether chili was a soup or an entirely different category of food. Peter didn’t feel like waiting until he got home to respond, so he texted with one hand while he shot webs with the other. His eyes were glued to his phone as he went to grab a web that wasn’t anywhere close to where he thought it was. He went crashing to the ground, landing right on his right arm. He heard the crunch loud and clear and let out a little whimper. Peter peeled himself off the pavement and pulled his mask off to look at his arm.
“Well that’s not good.” He mumbled when he saw the curve in a place his arm didn’t typically curve.
He knew there was no way he could swing home with the arm but he was too far to walk. He looked around and realized he was in your neighborhood. He’d been to your place once before when Tony first bought you an apartment and wondered if he could find it again by memory. He ran up and down the block until he spotted a window with a light on near the top floor of a building twice the size of Peters. He could see a little Iron Man flag in the window and took a leap of faith that that was your apartment. He cradled his arm to his chest and gingerly climbed the side of the building until he reached the window. He used his head to knock on the window and sighed in relief when he saw you running to open it.
“Peter? What are you doing up here?” You whispered.
“I’m sorry. I would never bother you at home but I got hurt really badly and I can’t swing.” Peter winced and held up his arm. You could see exactly where the break was and put a hand over your mouth.
“Oh my God. Come in.” You said as you wrapped an arm around him and helped him inside. You helped Peter sit down on your couch before sitting on the coffee table in front of him.
“Let me see this.” You said and gently moved his hand away from his arm. It was bent in an awkward way and resembled an “s”, something you didn’t know arms could do.
“Is it bad?” Peter asked you.
“One second.” You smiled sweetly and calmly walked into the next room. When you returned, you had a forced smile on your face.
“It’s not bad.” You answered him.
“You went over there to gag gagged, didn’t you?”
“I did. I’m sorry.” You cringed. “Broken bones gross me out.”
“Oh shit. You think it’s broken?” Peter asked and held the arm up. It limply hung in the air and you gagged again.
“Peter, honey, it looks like a fish hook.”
“Yeah. That’s probably not good, right?” He asked as he looked at it.
“I need to get you to a hospital.” You decided and grabbed your car keys.
“A hospital? That won’t be necessary. There’s no need for all that fuss. Can’t we just wrap it up and call it a day?” Peter laughed nervously.
“I don’t think so. I can put bandaids on your other cuts but this needs to be looked at by a real doctor.”
“You said you’ve seen every season of Greys Anatomy right? Can’t you just put on an episode and do what they do?”
“All they do is have sex during work hours. We can’t do that right now.” You shook your head as you threw your coat on. Peter stopped panicking for a second and felt his face heat up.
“But later?” He asked. You playfully rolled your eyes at him and set your keys down.
“Hang on. We gotta get you out of those clothes.”
“Really? Now?” Peter gulped and grabbed his shirt with his free hand.
“Well we can’t get checked out as Spiderman without the doctors seeing this pretty face.” You teased and cupped his chin before walking towards your room.
“Oh. Right.” He blushed and touched his chin.
“I’ll grab some of my stuff.” You called from your room. You returned shortly with a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. Peter pressed the button on the center of his suit and shimmied out of it before making eye contact with you. You gulped and quickly turned around to give him some privacy. Peter blushed and stood up to shake the suit onto the floor. He gingerly stepped into the pants and pulled them up with one hand. When it came to the hoodie, he knew there was no way he could put it on with one arm.
“Um….” He said as he struggled to get his head in the hoodie.
“You need help?” You asked over your shoulder.
“Yes please.”
You laughed and turned around to help Peter get dressed. You pulled his head through the opening and laughed when his messy hair stuck straight up.
“Thank you.” Peter smiled shyly as you fixed his hair.
“Anytime.” You smiled back.
“I kinda hate that your pants fit me.” He said sheepishly and looked down at the pants you had given him.
“Why? I think you look great in my clothes.”
“Oh. Well thank you.” He blushed. “You’d probably look great in mine.”
“I don’t know if I have the muscles to fill out your suit.” You sighed and nodded towards his discarded suit.
“It doesn’t have to be the suit. You’d look good in just my T shirt.”
“Just your T shirt?” You asked coyly, making Peter go bright red.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” He quickly explained.
“We can put your theory to the test later. Let’s get your arm looked at first.” You said and pulled him towards the door. Peter gulped and made it all the way to the car before stopping in his tracks.
“I can’t go to the hospital.” He blurted. You stopped and looked at him and we’re supposed to see the embarrassed look on his face as he cradled his arm.
“Why not?” You asked him as you put your hand on his shoulder. Peter looked at your hand before looking into your eyes and sighing.
“My aunt would never be able to afford it with her new job.” He admitted. “We’re barely making rent as it is. I can’t put this on her.”
“So don’t.” You shrugged. “Put it on my dads card.”
“I can’t just charge my medical bills to your dad.” Peter laughed uncomfortably.
“Sure you can. He won’t even notice. And if he asks about the card, I’ll just tell him I was shopping.” You insisted and pulled Peter towards your car.
“I can’t ask you to do that.” He shook his head and stayed where he was.
“You’re not asking. I’m offering. Actually, I’m forcing. Get in the car.” You insisted as you opened the passenger door. You playfully pushed him into the car and buckled his seatbelt for him. You then climbed into the drivers seat and started the car.
“Thank you.” He smiled shyly when you looked over at him.
“Of course. You can trust me, Peter. I’m your friend.” You smiled back and started to drive.
“Right.” His nodded as his smile faltered a little at the word “friend” but he didn’t say anything. By the time you pulled up to the hospital, Peter was in bad shape. His arm was swelling and causing him more pain than he had ever felt. You opened his door and helped him out of the car, feeling the way he was barely able to hold himself up.
“Hey, Y/n?” Peter winced and held on tight to you.
“Yeah, Peter?”
“Do you think you could lift someone my size?”
“Maybe. Why?”
“Because I’m about to pass out.” He said right before collapsing onto the ground.
When Peter woke up later in his hospital bed, he felt a whole lot better. So much better, in fact, that he didn’t even notice the giant blue cast on his arm. He didn’t know if it was the morphine he had been given or fact that you were sitting at his bedside with your hand that was keeping him pain free.
“Hey, Peter.” You smiled softly at him and brushed the hair off his forehead. Peter sat up a little in his bed and smiled back.
“So pretty. You look nothing like your dad.” He said sleepily.
“What was that?” You laughed even though you had definitely heard him.
“Want jello.” Peter said and licked his dry lips. You held his cup of water to his lips and helped him drink as the doctor came in.
“Oh, good. He’s awake.” The doctor said.
“Woah. What happened?” Peter asked ad he noticed his cast.
“We had to do surgery on your arm to set the bone back into place. You’ll be in a cast for the next six to eight weeks.”
“I didn’t know your favorite color so I picked blue. I hope that’s okay.” You explained sheepishly.
“Blue is great. Thank you.” Peter smiled at you as he slowly felt more with it.
“It’s a good thing your girlfriend brought you in when she did. You had free fluid in your arm. It could’ve been much worse if you hadn’t come in right away.” The doctor told him.
“Oh. She’s not my-“
“Thank, doctor. Is there anything we should do now?” You cut him off as you turned to the doctor.
“He’s safe to bring home. Just keep the arm elevated and don’t get it wet. I can prescribe some pain meds as well.”
“Thank you. And could we get some jello too please?” You requested.
“No problem. I’ll be right back with that.” The doctor smiled and left the room.
“You broke your wrist, elbow and radius bone. Which I just found out is the bone in between your wrist and elbow. Who knew it had a name? But that’s why the cast goes so high.” You explained to Peter once you were alone.
“Damn. That’s a lot of bones. No wonder it hurts.” He said and shifted uncomfortably in the bed. It didn’t actually hurt that bad, but he liked it when you were worried about him.
“Oh no. It does? Can I do anything?” You asked and brushed his hair back again. Peter blushed and smiled softly as he looked into your concerned eyes.
“Just keep holding my hand, please. It helps with the pain.” He said and faked a cough for added measure. You fell right for it and squeezed his hand.
“It’s gonna be okay, Peter. I won’t leave your side. But do you want me to call your aunt?”
“No, this will just freak her out. I’ll tell her tomorrow.”
“Okay. You could crash at my place tonight if you want. I’ll drive you home tomorrow so we can tell her together. I wrote down everything the doctor said since you were still knocked out.”
“Wow. Thank you.” Peter smiled in appreciation when you showed him the list you had made. You smiled back and put the list down on his bedside table before looking at him. Peter was gazing at you intently because he could tell you had something on your mind.
“I like the color you picked.” Peter said to cut the silence.
“Oh, thanks. I was gonna go with red but I always thought you looked best in blue.” You said without looking at him. Peter blushed at the casual compliment and tilted his head to get you to look at him. You finally did look into his eyes and smiled softly.
“Peter, could I….”
“Yes?” Peter sat up eagerly at your question.
“Sign your cast?” You finished your sentence and he sat back in his bed.
“Oh, sure.” He agreed. You pulled a sharpie out of your bag and wrote your name on the front of Peters cast. Peters face reddened when he saw how big you had written it and he looked at his cast proudly.
“First one.” You smiled and put the sharpie down.
“Probably one of the only ones that will be on here.” Peter chuckled.
“Oh, really? Maybe I should add something else then.” You said and picked the sharpie back up. Peter couldn’t see what you were drawing until you gently turned his cast towards him.
“Do you like it?” You asked timidly. Peter looked at his cast and saw that you had drawn a big heart around your name.
“I love it.” Peter blushed. “Thank you.”
“Of course. It’s an honor to be the first.” You told him. “Oh, and I went by the tower while you were sleeping and grabbed some of your clothes. The doctor said I can take you home once you can stand on your own.”
“I feel great, actually. Thanks for getting the clothes.” Peter thanked you as he got out of his bed. He got changed in the bathroom and met you in the room once he was done. You helped Peter get signed out before taking him back to your apartment.
“Stay here. I’ll make up the bed for you. Can I get you anything?” You asked as you helped Peter sit on your couch.
“Could I have some water please?”
“Of course.” You cupped his chin before going to get him a glass of water. Peter would be lying if he said he didn’t love the way you were babying him because of his injury. You returned with his water and sat beside him on the couch.
“Is there anything else I could get you?”
“I would love to shower. But I can’t get my cast wet.” Peter frowned and looked at his cast.
“You don’t have to.” You said and got back up. You returned shortly with a black garbage bag and held it up to show Peter.
“You’re a genius.” He smiled and got up from the couch.
“I aim to please.” You shrugged and opened the bag up. Peter went to put his arm inside but you stopped him.
“Um, you should probably take off your shirt before I put this on.” You said sheepishly.
“Oh. Right.” Peter replied and tried to take his shirt off, which proved to be difficult with only one hand. After watching him struggle for a bit, you grabbed the hem and helped him take it off. Peters face reddened as you pulled the shirt over his head and he smiled softly. You did your best to keep your eyes on his as you tied the bag around his arm and tried not to look at his body.
“There. That should protect it from any water.” You said as you never broke eye contact.
“Thanks. That was really smart.” Peter said quietly. You stayed staring at each other for a little too long before you snapped out of it.
“The bathroom is the first door on the left. Shampoo and conditioner is all in there. And I have extra towels under the sink.“ You said as you stepped away from him.
“Cool. Thank you.” He smiled once again before walking to the bathroom. Your garbage bag idea worked perfectly and he was able to clean himself without getting any water on the cast. He dried himself off to the best of his ability with one hand and stepped back into his boxers and sweatpants from before. That’s when he realized he had left his shirt out in the living room with you. Peter gulped and fixed his hair in the mirror before going to find you again.
“Hey. All clean?” You asked when he came back into the living room.
“Yep. Could you take this thing off of me?” Peter asked and held up his arm.
“Sure.” You gulped and went over to him. You put on your best performance of pretending he wasn’t shirtless and glistening from the shower as you untied the bag and pulled it off. You made eye contact once again and quickly looked anywhere but his naked torso.
“Do you need help getting your shirt back on?” You asked and hoped the answer was yes.
“It’s okay. I think I can do it. You’ve already done so much.” Peter said as he grabbed the shirt. He managed to get one arm and both shoulders in before realizing he had no way of getting his cast through the shirt.
“I’m stuck.” He whined, making you laugh a little. He had his good arm sticking out over his head and his shirt riding up like a crop top .
“Aw. Look at you.” You chuckled and carefully pulled his broken arm through the shirt.
“Thanks. Again.” Peter laughed as well now that he was dressed.
“You’re very welcome. Now follow me. I’ll show you your bed.” You said and brought Peter to your guest bedroom. You had set it up for him while he was in the shower and put lots of extra pillows so he would be comfortable.
“Is there anything else I can do for you?” You turned to him to ask. Peter looked down at your lips for a moment before going back to your eyes.
“Um….” He trailed off and looked over at the bed.
“How about some sleep?”
“Yeah.” He laughs through a yawn. “That sounds really good. Thanks for taking care of me.”
“Anytime, Peter. Goodnight.” You squeezed his arm before leaving the room. Peter stayed frozen in place for a minute and tried to touch his arm where you hand had just been, then remembered it was broken.
Peter woke up the next morning to the sweet smell of pancakes. He got out of bed and noticed that the pain in his arm had almost completely gone away. He flexed his fingers, something the doctor mentioned that he probably wouldn’t be able to do for a while, and realized his arm was probably mostly healed. He decided not to mention that discovery to you as he went to go find you.
“Good morning.” You smiled at Peter when he walked into your kitchen.
“It’s a very good morning. Hi.” He smiled back as you handed him a cup of orange juice.
“Sit. Eat. I can cut it for you if you need.” You offered as you put a plate of pancakes in front of Peter.
“That’s okay. You don’t have to.” Peter smiled gratefully and picked up his fork. He went to pick up his knife and remembered his arm was in a cast.
“Hm.” He hummed when he realized his dilemma.
“Here. I got it.” You chuckled and took his fork. You cut Peters food up for him as he watched you with a dreamy smile. He’d never gotten this much attention from you before, or any girl for that matter. He was starting to think this broken arm was a gift from God.
“After breakfast, I can take you home and we can tell May together.” You offered as you got up and grabbed a spray bottle and a comb from the bathroom.
“Thank you. For everything. You’ve done so much already.”
“Please. I’ve barely done anything.” You scoffed and proceeded to wet his hair and then comb out his bed head. Peter turned to look at you with his newly styled hair and you sheepishly put the comb down.
“Okay. I see your point. I just like to take care of people. And I feel bad that you broke your arm. I’m sorry if I’m doing too much.” You explained as you sat back down.
“That’s okay. I’m not used to be taken care of like this. It’s kinda nice.” Peter admitted without looking at you.
“I think it’s nice too. To look after you.” You replied. You looked into each others eyes for a moment and exchanged a smile. Peter finished up his breakfast and got back into your car to go tell May what happened. As you explained to her everything the doctor had told you, all May could focus on was the pretty girl Peter had brought home.
“Wait, sorry, who are you?” May interrupted with an excited smile.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m Y/n Stark. Peter works with my dad. He got hurt on patrol and my apartment was as close by.” You explained.
“It’s so nice to meet you. I’m so glad Peter had such a lovely girl to take care of him. And that he knew where your apartment was. Because he’s been there before?” May asked and clasped her hands under her chin.
“Oh my God.” Peter groaned and hung his head. “It’s not like that, May.”
“Peter’s a friend.” You chuckled. “But I was happy to look after him.”
“Well I appreciate that. And I know he does too. He talks about you all the time, you know. I just didn’t realize it was you. He didn’t tell me how pretty you were.” May added.
“May.” Peter said warningly.
“Oh, thank you.” You laughed awkwardly. “Well, I should probably get going. See you later, Peter.”
“She’s cute.” May said once you were gone.
“She is. But you’ll probably never see her again because you just scared her off.” Peter groaned.
“I don’t know. Don’t think I don’t see that signature on your cast. It’s gonna take a lot more than an overbearing aunt to scare that girl off.” May said coyly.
“Wait, you really think so?” Peter asked.
“I’m just saying. I wouldn’t go to that length for just a friend.” May shrugged. A smile crossed Peters face as it occurred to him this broken arm might have been exactly what he needed to get you to like him back.
Peter walked into campus next day with his cast in a sling. He went to the table he usually sat at between classes and saw Ned already sitting there.
“Hey dude. You never texted me back last- OH MY GOD.” Ned screamed and pointed when he saw the cast.
“Calm down. I’m okay. I just broke my arm.” Peter said with a huge smile.
“Uh, why do you seem so happy about it?”
“Because Y/n Stark took care of me.” Peter whispered excitedly as he sat down.
“Wait, Tony Starks daughter?” Neds eyes widened. “What?! How?”
“I couldn’t swing so I had to go to the nearest apartment I could find, which was hers. She drove me to the hospital and got me clothes while I was in surgery. Then she brought me home and let me sleep at her place.” Peter explained.
“You slept at a girls place?” Ned’s jaw dropped as he grabbed Peters shoulders.
“I know! I wish you could’ve seen it, Ned. She was so worried about me so she did everything for me. I’m talking combing my hair, cutting my food, she even helped me get dressed. Honestly, I think she might like me.”
“That’s hilarious.” Ned laughed. “Good thing you didn’t break your funny bone. Oh my God, wait, did you?”
“No, dude. I’m serious. You should’ve seen her. She was all over me in a way she never has been before. I think this broken arm is the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“Peter!” Your voice came from behind Peter so he and Ned turned around in confusion.
“Woah. What’s she doing here?” Ned asked and shook Peters arm.
“I have no idea.” Peter replied as a smile broke out on his face.
“Hi. I hope it’s okay I showed up like this.” You said as you sat down beside Peter.
“It’s totally okay. I’m happy to see you.” Peter said and leaned on his good arm to stare at you.
“I know it must be hard to do things for yourself with only one hand, so I thought I would bring you lunch. My dad mentioned that you always eat all the peanut butter when you’re at the tower so I made you a PBJ. Do you like those?” You asked him.
“I love them. Thank you so much. This is so nice of you. You didn’t have to do that.” Peter said and touched your arm.
“It’s okay. I wanted to. I also cut you up some apple slices and packed a juice box.” You said and showed Peter was else was in the lunch bag you had brought.
“No way! I love apple juice.” Peters eyes lit up when he saw the juice. He reached for him but you put your hand on his arm.
“I got it.” You smiled at Peter and put the straw into the juice box. You then held the juice box up so that he could sip it, all while Ned watched in disgust.
“Oh my.” Ned mumbled.
“Are you doing anything tonight?” You asked Peter.
“I don’t think so. Why?”
“I figured since you can’t go on patrol while you’re healing, you could come hang with me at the tower. My dads been working on some new technology and I think you’d be a great help.”
“Yeah, yeah that sounds awesome.” Peter grinned and nodded his head.
“Oh, good. You said yes.” You smiled timidly. “I could pick you up after class?”
“Sure. I get out at 4:25.”
“I’ll be here. See you later, Peter.” You squeezed his arm and got up to leave.
“Did you see that? This arm is a goldmine! She’s never been this interested in me!” Peter exclaimed once you were gone.
“No girl has!” Ned said with equal excitement.
“This is even better than the spider bite. I hope I never heal.” Peter sighed happily and looked at his cast.
“Can I sign it?” Ned asked and fished in his backpack for a pen.
“Of course.” Peter smiled and moved his cast towards Ned. Ned gently held Peters arm in place and tried to write on the top of his cast above his elbow.
“Ugh, it’s too curved. Can you flex so I can get a solid surface?”
“No, I can’t flex my broken arm. And your name is just three letters. Is it really that hard?”
“I wanted to draw the blue amongus guy. Please?” Ned whined.
“Fine.” Peter rolled his eyes and flexed his arm the bets he could to give Ned a flat surface. When he did this, the cast cracked in half and fell in two pieces onto Peters lap. Chalk from the inside filled the air, making Peter and Ned cough as they waved it away.
“Oh shit.” Peter said and flexed his arm back and forth. Sure enough, it was perfectly healed.
“Dude!” Ned coughed. “I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to do that.”
“My arm is healed. Damn it!” Peter groaned and slammed his now healed arm on the table.
“Isn’t that a good thing?” Ned asked as he drew an amongus character on one of the halves of Peters cast.
“No. My broken arm was the one thing making Y/n pay attention to me. Without it, she’ll want nothing to do with me.” Peter sighed and rubbed his face.
“Maybe you could break your other arm?” Ned suggested. “Or both arms?
“I’m not gonna break my arm on purpose. That’s too crazy. I just need a new cast.” Peter said as he began to brainstorm.
“Maybe not. Maybe you just need some tape.” Ned said as he held the two halves of the cast together. Peter looked at the two halves and smiled as he formed a plan.
Peter texted you that he’d meet you at the tower instead so that he could rush home to work on his plan. When you opened the tower door to greet him, the first thing you noticed was that his cast had been wrapped in duck tape down the middle that was then colored with a blue sharpie. You could see spots of wet Elmer’s glue around the obvious crack, despite the sling Peter had placed the arm in.
“Hi!” He greeted you.
“Hey, you. What happened to your cast?” You laughed and raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, nothing. I just scuffed it a little.” Peter lied and pulled it deeper into the sling.
“Uh huh. Come in.” You chuckled skeptically and led him to the lab. You held the door open for Peter and noticed him touching it with his broken hand as he passed through. You were already skeptical and decided to play with him a little.
“This is so cool. Your dad never lets me in here.” Peter said as he looked around the lab in awe.
“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Come sit.” You smiled innocently and patted a chair at the lab table that wasn’t pulled out. Peter pulled it out with his broken hand and sat beside you. You eyed him curiously and he gave you an awkward smile. You decided not to expose him just yet and let him help you with a few things around the lab for an hour. He was beyond excited just to be there and you didn’t want to ruin it just yet.
“Can you figure out this formula for me?” You asked and handed Peter a marker.
“Sure.” He smiled and went to the whiteboard. He started writing with his broken hand and you watched with an amused smile.
“You should probably use your other hand.” You said, making Peter freeze.
“Oh. Right.” Peter forced a laugh. “I keep forgetting it’s broken. Which it definitely is. You saw it.”
“I did see it. Does it still hurt?” You asked and touched the sling.
“Oh yeah.” He lied. “Real bad.”
“Aw. Poor baby.” You pouted and brushed some hair off his face. Peter gulped and blushed under your touch as he made a fist with his broken hand. You noticed him moving his supposedly broken hand and decided to tease him a little.
“You know, it’s really a shame your arm is broken.” You said and took a step towards him.
“Why?”
“Because we have the place to ourselves. We could’ve had a little fun together. But obviously we can’t, with your broken arm and all.” You replied and watched his face carefully for a reaction.
“A little fun?” Peter gulped again as you got even closer.
“You know….” You smiled coyly and walked your fingers up his arm.
“No.” Peter swallowed. “I don’t know.”
“Come on. You’re telling me you haven’t dreamed of fooling around in one of the giant rooms in this place?” You asked and wrapped your arms around his neck.
“And you’re saying that’s what we would be doing? If my arm was healed?” Peter asked with wide eyes.
“Uh huh. Too bad it’s not.” You sighed dramatically and took a step back. Peter looked down at his fake broken arm and contemplated telling the truth.
“Yeah. That’s too bad.” He mumbled.
“Hey Peter?”
“Yeah?”
“Catch.” You said and tossed a paper weight at him. Peter caught it with ease in his broken hand, making his cast break in half again. You raised your eyebrows as Peter squeezed his eyes shut.
“Shit.” He whispered.
“Don’t feel bad.” You chuckled. “I knew you were faking it the second you walked in.”
“You did?” Peter sighed and pulled the cast and sling off.
“Come on, Peter. Duct tape?”
“I know. I’m not a craft boy.” Peter admitted with defeat.
“I can tell. So what’s with the fake cast?” You wondered as you folded your arms.
“The first one was real. I swear. But it healed quicker then I thought it would and I didn’t need it anymore.”
“Then why would you tape the cast around your healed arm?”
“Because I didn’t want you to know it was healed.” Peter mumbled, just barely audible but you still heard it.
“What?” You laughed. “Why not?”
Peter sighed again before looking into your eyes. You looked at him expectingly and he knew there was no way out of this.
“Because then you won’t hang out with me anymore.” He said with a sad smile.
“What?” Your smiled faded as your arms dropped.
“Before I broke my arm, I had trouble getting you to even look my way. But that night in your apartment, I never lost your attention. Not even once. And then you showed up at my school and met my friend and I guess I liked that so much that I wasn’t ready to let go of it yet. So I taped my cast back together to keep your attention a little longer. I’m sorry.”
“Peter, I didn’t do all those things because you have a broken arm. I did them because I like you.” You said as walked back towards him.
“You do?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “Even though I have two normal arms?”
“It’s something I’m willing to look past.” You smiled teasingly. Peter smiled back before winced and gripping his shoulder.
“What’s wrong?”
“I kinda triggered the injury when I broke the cast.” He grimaced and moved his shoulder in a circle.
“Aw. Do you want me to kiss it better?” You laughed sarcastically.
“Yeah. Can you?” Peter replied with equal sarcasm and held up his arm. You moved his arm down away from his face and leaned in to kiss him. Once Peter processed what was happening, he was able to kiss you back. He wrapped his now healed arm around your waist to pull you in, feeling the dull ache he got from moving it but deciding it was worth it.
“Any better?” You asked once you pulled away.
“Much.” Peter smiled and went to kiss you again.
Tag List 🏷️
@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling
@tom-hollands-wifey
@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings
@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101
@peterparkoure
@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr
@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland
@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​
@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant
@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger
@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie
@maybemona
@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom
@pandaxnienke
 @officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours
@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85
@olixerwxxd @leilanixx
@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940
@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing
@mathletemadison  
@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr
@ciarahollands
@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy
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arminsumi · 6 months
Text
🔞 MDNI/18+
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FILMED IN HD
Sukuna + fem!reader
Re : Your boyfriend Sukuna fucks you to another orgasm while making you watch yourself get fucked on video. He wants to show you how deep his dick dives into that pussy!!
Warnings : 🔞 MDNI/18+, porn without plot, cervix f*cking, multiple orgasms, namecalling (wh*re, sl*t), dirty talk, consensual filming, watching yourself on video, size kink/big d*ck Sukuna, praise, c*mshot on ass, some spanking, some cunnilingus
Note : i think this is one of the horniest things i've ever written lol
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"Watch your pussy take my fucking cock. Yeah, see that? That's what I'm seeing baby. I got the best view, don't I?" he chuckles naughtily.
He originally filmed himself fucking you because you asked him to; you wanted to see how his thick cock was stretching out your cunt and how many inches disappeared inside you. Sukuna was praising your pussy all night for taking his big cock so well. He was proud when he looked down at your hole and saw every inch sink inside.
Sukuna held his phone and recorded himself thrusting his big cock inside your pussy. You moaned and moved your hips back against him, crazed for him. His balls slapped against your tiny clit, the audio picked up the sticky smacking sound. His cock rubbed the sides of your clingy pussy and pressured your cervix so perfectly that you felt your orgasm build up.
"Right there, baby! Right there!" you screamed.
He grunted and went harder, making his tip kiss your cervix.
You gasped, "More! Yeahhh — fuck! Oh god you're so fucking deep in my pussy! It's gonna make me cum, you're gonna make me cum — baby 'm so close! Make me cum!"
He worked up a sweat and kept pounding into you.
"Oh I'll make you fuckin' cum, princess. That's it — feel like a slut 'n cum — uh-huh, just like that. Work your ass back on me."
He groaned and rolled his head back in bliss. Sukuna stopped his thrusts and let you work your orgasm off his big cock. He stared at your pussy taking his cock on his phone screen. Your escalating moans were caught on video loud and clear — oh he'd be favoriting this one for sure.
"Ooh, good lil' whore. Fuck my cock till you cum." he praised.
He watched your orgasm build.
His free hand groped your ass and he slapped it over and over again until it stung. Each slap and moaning response from you were so loud on the video.
Suddenly, Sukuna fucked his cock deep into your clingy pussy. You were buried deep into a pillow, muffling your screams.
He went harder and faster. You frantically rubbed your clit until you came long and hard on his thick cock. He kept pumping himself into your pussy like it was his rightful cocksleeve. Sukuna was at the point of pleasure where he made possessive growls.
He kept shakily filming until he got an idea and pulled out. He ended the video and propped his phone on the pillow that you were sobbing moans into — "Put it back innn!"
"Watch yourself while I fuck you. Gonna make you cum like a real whore this time."
You gasped when he plunged his cock back in all the way, tip briefly kissing your cervix.
"God you're amazing, baby." he grinned toothily when glancing at the video.
He places a big hand on the back of your head and pets your hair when you intently watch the video of yourself getting railed.
Sukuna's balls squish against your puffy clit and stimulate it — he rolled his cock into you and rubbed his tip against your cervix.
You gasped loudly and clenched tightly around him.
"Is it too much?" he asked concernedly, thinking it was a gasp of pain.
"No! I can take it!"
"That's a good girl." he smiled down at your pussy, reassured you were taking it fine.
His big, veiny, manly hands grabbed a large handful of your ass and he spread your cheek until both your holes were completely exposed to him.
Sukuna pounded into your cunt harder as the video kept playing.
He heard your moans in the video and it made his muscles contract — abs flexing. He groped your ass aggressively and thrust inside your pussy faster.
The sloppy squelching sound of your pussy squeezing around his girth reached both your ears. Sukuna didn't stop fucking his cock deep into your cunt, except for when you asked for small breaks, then he briefly pulled out and went down to eat your pussy. He nosed in your pussy and drank up your juices unashamedly, then withdrew and plunged his cock back inside, making you gasp and moan.
He watched both your real pussy and the video of it getting destroyed. Sukuna went harder, fucking you like an animal, making you scream again, "There! Fuck! Mmm!"
You felt your orgasm build up, and it felt better than the last one. You shake and make a shuddery moan, fully rolling your eyes back and curling your toes as your orgasm wracked your body. It felt different to the others — Sukuna just unknowingly gave you your first cervical orgasm.
"Fuck, watch that pussy cum — you're my lil' pornstar." he laughed, "You sensitive? Yeahhh, I know it's too much but keep taking it for me please, baby." he grunted and frantically thrust into you.
He fucked your sensitive pussy so hard you cried and hiccoughed. Your legs gave out, you just laid flat on your tummy and let him take what he needed of you. The video of your pussy getting destroyed ended, stopping on a still-frame of your cunt being unvelievably stretched. How could such a tiny hole hide all that dick?
"I'm close — yeah keep fuckin' taking my dick, baby, I'm so fucking close. Where do you want me to cum?" he asked aggressively.
"Fuck! Nnng anywhere you want!"
His heart fluttered. You were so cute and fucked-out.
"I want you to tell me where. Use your words. I wanna know where my slut wants my cum to be."
"O-on my ass — cum on my ass! Please!"
"Nasty whore. I'll cum all over your slutty fucking ass. You ready? — ughhh fuck, I'm cumming, 'm fucking cumming."
He pressed his hand down on your back and covered half your spine. You were pinned to the bed with your ass stuck up; Sukuna stared at your pussy and ass and pounded into you a bit more, getting himself to the brink of his orgasm.
He pulled out just in time. Sukuna furously jerked his cock over your ass until he bust a fat load all over it.
His mouth formed an O shape and he got so lost in his orgasm, head fully tilted back as he jerked his cock through it.
Ropes of white, thick cum spurted out and landed on the curve of your ass and the dip between your cheeks. Sukuna's cum ran down your ass and your pussy's slit and dripped off.
He caught his breath and let go of his cock, letting it rest on ur ass. It felt so heavy — and to think all that was inside you.
"Slutty fucking ass... give me my phone. I'm gonna show you how destroyed your cunt looks right now. It's fuckin' gaping from taking my dick, baby. Ooh look, my cum is dripping... that's fucking beautiful."
He gave your ass a few hard smacks, then caressed up your back and massaged your back before leaning down to give your shoulder a rough kiss.
You hummed happily, too tired to move.
"You did so good, baby. Your pussy treats me so well." he whispered into your ear. "You sleep, I'll clean you up, princess."
© arminsumi
I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
This is fictional work.
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norrizzandpia · 2 months
Text
I’ve Got You (LN4)
Summary: In the midst of the FIA determining whether his lap times will be deleted, Y/n finds her boyfriend sitting in front of multiple cameras, but that doesn’t matter, he’s upset and she’s got him.
Warnings: none <3
Note: this is based off when Lando’s quali lap times were deleted and he was just sitting there looking at his hands all sad :(
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“Where is he?” Y/n threw the headphones off her head the moment she caught wind of the news.
Andrea approached her softly, a hand up, “He’s doing the post-quali interviews, Y/n.”
She shook her head at him, “So, what? He’s just sitting there as they converse about his lap time? Andrea, you know how he gets with these things. He shouldn’t be alone.”
Andrea stepped in front of her when she tried to maneuver around him, trying to get to Lando, “Y/n, there are too many cameras. We can’t ensure PR.”
She blinked at him, “Are you fucking kidding me? Fuck PR. I don’t care about anything, but getting to him right now. He should not be alone right now. I mean, look at him!” She waved her hand toward the TVs, screens showing Lando picking at his nails as clear embarrassment sunk into his body, “He doesn’t even want to be alone right now.”
Andrea huffed, eyes glancing to the side before landing back on her and nodding, “Fine, but no major PDA.”
She loved Andrea, she truly did, but she gave him a nasty look before rushing off.
She weaseled her way through the crowds, tears springing her eyes at the image of Lando sitting idly by himself. A man stopped her when she tried to get passed the barriers, “Miss, you do not have authorization to enter into this area.”
She smiled at him, “I’m his girlfriend.”
That didn’t mean anything in the eyes of security, “Okay.”
A frown found its way onto her face, “Sir, please. I’m trying to comfort someone I love.”
He continued to shake his head, “I understand, but I cannot allow you into this area. I can’t confirm who you are.”
Hands tied, her eyes spotted Oscar and she yelled him over. When his feet landed him feet away from the situation, he didn’t need anytime to realize what was going on. Oscar grabbed Y/n’s arm, “It’s okay. She’s with me.”
The man thought for a moment before allowing her through, a smile on her face as she thanked Oscar. He waved it off, asking her to promise a happier Lando. She would try, she said.
Lando saw her feet first. Her white sneakers that she loved so much aligned in his vision and he stopped picking at his fingers. His gaze slid up her form as she sat down next to him, hand sliding under and around his arm softly. She heard the murmurs, they were incredibly loud, and the camera clicks, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She could practically feel the upset melting off Lando. She hurt so much for him.
His body relaxed at the feeling of her warmth and when she laid her head on his shoulder, he laid his on the top of her head.
“I’m sorry, baby.” She whispered. Maybe lip readers would figure out what they said.
His hands went to fidget with the nails on his fingers, but she stopped him, linking their hands and softly rubbing his skin, “It’s okay. I need to work harder. I can’t keep failing like this.”
She squeezed his hand three times, a silent confession of love, “You’re not failing. You haven’t failed, Lan. Everybody is proud of you. Racing is a hard sport and you are one of the most talented drivers here. You’re so so hard on yourself, love.”
Lando chuckled, “Y/n, you have to say these things. You’re my girlfriend.”
She pulled her head back lightly, giving him a moment to get his off her head before looking him in the eyes, “Lan, I don’t have to say anything. When have I ever lied to you? When have I not told you that an outfit looked bad when it did? When have I not told you that a move you did in the race screwed you over when it did? When have I not told you you handled a situation badly when you did? I’ve always been up front with you. This is a hard track. You are not a failure, Lan. Nobody thinks that.”
He was quiet for a moment before pecking her lips, “Even though part of me is still beating myself up over this, knowing you’re proud of me helps it subside a bit.”
She smiled, kissing his cheek whilst still rubbing his hand, “Of course, I’m proud of you. Lan, I will always be proud of you. Even when you don’t give your all, I’m proud of you for being you. Fuck anybody who thinks different, you’ve got this. You have shown time and time again that you’ve got this. I’m sure you’ll give it your all tomorrow and you’ll continue to show just how much you’ve got this.”
His head fell to the side with a soft grin, “You think so?”
She brushed the hair around his face away, “Yes, I do think so. And, hey, even if you don’t, if you DNF, I’ll buy you your favorite ice cream and we’ll watch a sad movie, have a good cry. We can turn anything bad into something good.”
He laughed, “How is crying a good thing?”
She gave him a deadpanned look, “Baby, you love a good cry.”
He leaned into her as he giggled, “You’re right. You know me too well.”
She nodded, “I love you, don’t I?”
“I love you too. Thank you.” He whispered, kissing her lightly in fear of the cameras. He never told her often, but Y/n had the greatest ability to talk him out of his moments of self-doubt. Whether it was small or big, she always knew just the things to say to make him snap out of his anxieties. Her superpower, turning his frown upside down.
He wished he was as good as her at it, but she was Y/n, his favorite person, she did everything better than everybody.
He loved her for it, he lived for it, he continued for it.
He loved her, he lived for her, he continued for her.
And when they told him his lap times had been deleted, the weight didn’t feel as heavy. Her arm wrapped around the side of his body as they walked away and her whispers of reassurance in his ear, the lap time situation began to feel smaller.
He accredited it all to her. Her words worked wonders, but, if he was being honest, a small look sent his way from her would do the trick. He guessed it was how much he felt for her, how much of his happiness lay with her.
Under the Qatar Grand Prix lights, Lando found peace. When the reporters asked him how he was coping with the loss, he had the same response every time.
“Some time spent in the presence of my girlfriend will work wonders.”
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augustinewrites · 1 month
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“sorry i'm late,” you sigh, hurrying into the teacher’s lounge much later than usual. shoko’s the only one there, feet propped up on the coffee table as she flips through a medical journal. you throw your coat over the back of a chair before joining her, trying to rub the sleep from your eyes 
“morning, sunshine.” shoko chuckles, handing you a mug. “this is a double shot, but maybe i should have gotten you a triple? what kept you up last night?”
“nothing," you quickly defend.
“you sure? because i'm not above blocking all the exits until you tell me.”
“you promise not to judge?”
“not out loud.” 
you roll your eyes at your best friend, but wring your hands tightly in your lap as you recall the events of last night. “have you ever had a…a special dream–”
shoko sits up straight, eyes wide as she says, much too loud, “you mean a sex dream?”
“shh!” you swat her on the arm, glaring. 
shoko ignores your obvious distress, grinning from ear to ear. “who are you having sex dreams about? is it ijichi? akari? oh my god, is it me? is it gojo? don’t tell me it’s gojo…”
“i may have been dreaming about…kento.”
“nanami?!”
heat immediately pools in your cheeks. “you can’t tell anyone, especially gojo. and hey, don't say it like that!” 
“i swear i’m not judging!” she promises. “if anything, i approve!”
“ugh,” you groan, heading over to the counter to put your unfinished mug in the sink. “i don’t know what’s going on with me.”
“fantasizing is normal. i’ve fantasized about everyone here. you, nanami, even gojo.”
“seriously?”
she takes a sip of her coffee, shrugging. “i'm a scorpio.”
that explains nothing and in no way makes you feel any better. if anything, you’re starting to feel a little possessive over someone who isn't even yours. 
“well i need to stop thinking about him like this,” you mutter, frowning.
“back to your dream. did you guys…do it?”
“shoko!” you gasp, gaze darting to the open door.
“so you did,” she deduces. “was it good?”
it was great. not that you’d tell her. 
“hey, naughty is good. naughty is sexy,” she laughs.
you rest your hip against the counter, shaking your head. “i can’t dream of him like that again. i can’t go on missions with him if i’m having these…inappropriate thoughts.”
“why? cause you want to be his good girl?”
some clears their throat loudly. 
both your heads whip toward the door, where nanami’s standing with his briefcase. “good morning.”
as he walks further into the lounge you wonder two things. first, how much he heard. second, how much force would it take to put your head through the wall–
“excuse me.” your entire body stiffens when a hand is placed on your waist, nanami gently moving you to the side as he grabs a mug from the cabinet. 
memories of last night’s dream invade the crevices of your mind, causing you to quickly step out of his reach. with his back turned you look to shoko for help, who simply makes a circle with her thumb and index finger and–
you feign casualness when nanami turns to face you, sending you a small smile before taking his coffee and making a swift exit.
shoko bursts out laughing as you groan, wishing you could melt into the floor.
_____
“look at them. they're totally talking about us,” gojo mutters, peeking into the teacher’s lounge.
“so?” nanami asks, prying gojo’s hand from his sleeve. 
“so, what do you think they're talking about? oh– oh, shoko just pulled out her phone. maybe they're talking about the thirst trap i posted for–”
nanami grabs the back of gojo’s shirt collar, dragging him away from the door. “why would they be talking about a picture you posted for your fiancée?” 
“because i'm hot–”
“please stop talking.”
“you’re hot too, nanamin! someone’s been giving you the look lately.” 
that makes him pause. “really? what look?”
the sorcerer wriggles out of his grip, an irritatingly wide grin on his face. “got your attention, did i?”
“what did you mean by that? what look?”
“the look. you know, the one where you’re picturing someone naked. fantasizing about them. caught her once while you were cooking us dinner. speaking of, what’s that one dish you made with the…”
nanami tunes out gojo’s nonsensical rambling, focusing on the few important things he’d shared as they walk down the hall. you were picturing him naked?
interesting. 
_____
when you open the front door of your apartment, nanami is standing there with a bag of groceries and a bottle of wine.
oh no. this is how the fantasies always start. 
“i was on my way home and wondered if you’ve eaten yet.”
you’d eaten two hours ago, but you step back to let him inside and get set up in the kitchen.
soon enough, your little kitchen is filled with the sound and scents of a home cooked meal. nanami is a natural in the kitchen, tossing veggies in a pan and stirring his homemade sauce.
(it almost looks as good as nanami does with his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow, cooking dinner in your apartment.) 
you’re snapped out of your thoughts when he reaches over to refill your glass. he refills his own, covering the pot and leaving it to simmer as he turns to where you’re perched on the counter.
“i wanted to talk to you about something,” he says suddenly, sweating his glass down. 
“hm?”
“i’m not above a few fantasies of my own.”
you almost choke on your wine. “gojo told you–”
he’s standing between your knees now, taking the glass from your hand and setting it aside. “i fantasize about you too.”
“you do?”
“i could tell you about them,” he suggests, voice dropping to a whisper as the tip of his nose nudges yours. “if you’re a good girl.”
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fangirl-dot-com · 16 days
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🚕Accidentally Kidnapping a Mafia Boss
*part of the reverse tropes series*
Pairing: MafiaBoss!Max Verstappen x UberDriver!Reader Genre: Crack/Humor/Fluff? Summary: Uber seemed like a brilliant plan to get money to buy a new car. However, a mistake has you picking up the wrong passenger. Pretty blue eyes turn dangerous when you notice the gun in his belt.
*this was actually so much fun to write! this is in no way dark whatsoever. it's super funny and the reader is pretty ditzy but it's all in good fun! hope you like it!*
TAG LIST CLOSED
You hummed to whatever tune was playing on your half-broken radio. Most of the lyrics came out as muffled voices, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Because like the radio, your car was almost dead. 
Key word being almost. 
You had bought the car at the beginning of your high school career and refused to give it up. But, your father had finally convinced you to buy a new one. However, buying a new car was expensive, hence why you were driving around town at 7 p.m. on a Friday night trying to find someone who needed an Uber. 
Your family had mentioned how dangerous it was to drive for the “taxi” company, but no one else was hiring at this time. 
“It’s an easy way to make bank,” you had told your very confused parents. 
Your hand came up and smacked the top of the dash, causing the radio to spam for a moment before finally, clear voices played out. However, your eyebrows furrowed once you could actually listen to the song. 
“This is not my playlist,” you muttered while trying to get your Bluetooth to come back on. Once your fingers reached the dials, your phone lit up with an Uber notification. 
“Finally.”
You quickly put in the address and drove down the street. Your humming resumed, playlist reaching out through the speaker. You hadn’t even glanced at where the location was, or you would have realized that you were going in the wrong direction. 
When you were supposed to be going further into the town, you were headed for the city. The only place your parents refused to let you drive. 
It might have to do with the local mafia war that was going on. Something about track limits or whatnot. However, that was not going to stop you from getting paid that night. 
You finally came to a stop at the corner of what you thought to be Fifth and Main, like your phone said to stop at. The actual corner was Fourth and Main, but you couldn’t tell because half of the word “fourth” was smudged with some type of brown substance. 
Your shoulders raised in a shrug while your gaze landed back on your phone. At least you were supposed to be picking up a nice older looking lady. That’s what your Uber app said anyway. You leaned forward in the driver’s seat, making the entire car squeak. Before you knew it, your fingers had started to tap along to the song that was still playing. 
The sound of the door opening and slamming shut caught your attention. 
“Drive!” you heard from behind you. 
Your entire body turned in the seat as you looked to the back row of your car. 
That was not a nice looking old lady. 
The man that now resided on the back road had a mean glare as his eyebrows cocked. Sea blue eyes met your own as the man leaned forward and pointed out the window. 
“I said drive, let’s go!” the accented voice yelled.  
If you had taken a moment to actually look at the man, you would have noticed his roughed up suit, along with the bright red splatters along his white dress shirt. And on his belt line, a gun seemed to be tucked. 
But you hadn’t noticed. 
“Yes sir!” you cheerfully said, putting the car into drive. A loud boom sounded outside the car, but your radio had decided to turn up full blast, masking the sound. Your car squeaked as it started to move away from the corner and farther along the road. 
The man in the back seat seemed agitated, but slowly relaxed the farther away you got on the highway. He had leaned back against the window and rubbed his eyes. You wanted to keep glancing back at him, but you needed to drive. When you noticed that the Uber app had not updated with his next location, you gathered the courage to speak. However, he beat you to it. 
“Is this your first time?” 
You sheepishly grinned back at him. “Yes, sir. Sorry, is it that noticeable?” 
A grunt escaped his lips. 
“The damn Get Away Car sticker on the back is not very inconspicuous. You need to get rid of it.” 
“Oh! So you don’t like Taylor Swift that much?” 
The man glared at you through the rearview mirror, before he shut his eyes. His hand waved at you through the gap between the front seats. 
“Just don’t miss the exit.” 
“Sir, you’ll need to put in your location first.” 
His eyes shot open. “I guess this is your first day. How did you ever get through training?” 
You glanced back. “Training? It was all online?” 
A huff only answered as he reached for what you hoped was a phone in his pocket. 
“I’ll have to let Lando know that online training will not work.” 
You let out a nervous giggle, noting that there was no “Lando” in the Uber training video. But, once again, the money promised kept you going down the highway. You kept glancing at your phone, hoping that the guy would just put his address in. Now you were getting annoyed.
“Sir, I really need the address or I’ll have to make you get out.” 
A click near your ear made you freeze. 
“Who do you think you are? Giving orders to de Leeuw.” 
You had definitely picked up the wrong person. You wanted to start explaining yourself, but the gun near your head made the words die out in your throat. You could feel his breath on your ear as he spoke. This would be hot, if you weren’t scared to lose your life. 
“Now, you’re going to tell me who you are and why you don’t know where the right exit is. Are you working for Hamilton? Vettel? Alonso?” 
You were so caught up in not wanting to die that you missed the car in front of you slamming on your breaks. You were thankful for your fast reflexes as your foot pressed down on the left pedal, making your car lurch to a halt. A thump on the back of your seat had you reeling around to see what had happened to the blond man. 
You were surprised to see him now sprawled on the back seats, eyes closed and gun now on the floor. Your hands were shaking as you were now able to take a random exit. When you got to a random parking lot, your head hit the steering wheel. 
“I have de Leeuw in my back seat.” 
Your breathing started to grow ragged. 
“I have  de Leeuw in my back seat!” 
You were now panicking. 
“I HAVE AN FUCKING UNCONSCIOUS MAFIA BOSS IN MY BACK SEAT!” 
Charles’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched Max’s tracker come to a stop in a parking lot. The Dutchman was supposed to come back right away after a swift deal with Gasly on the other side of town. But, Charles’s heart had dropped when the car, that Max was supposedly in, turned at an exit too soon. He took off his headset and rolled his chair over a bit. 
“Lando, who was picking Max up today after the deal? Was it Carlos?” 
The curly-haired Briton spun in his seat to look at his fellow mafia worker. 
“Uh, Carlos called in sick. I thought it was Oscar’s turn?” 
Something felt weird in Charles’s stomach. 
“No, Oscar is on that mission? Daniel was then after Oscar.” 
Lando’s eyes widened with fear. “Daniel is out of the country.” 
The Monegasque turned back to his computer screen. All vitals for Max were still good, but he had yet to leave the location. His finger pointed and pressed against the screen. 
“Then . . . who has Max?” 
Back in the parking lot, you had gotten out of the car and were currently rocking back and forth in the fetal position. 
“This is not happening. Why did this happen to me? I only needed some money. Why did I get stuck with a mafia boss. I want to live. I need to get back home to my plant and cat.” 
Last time you checked, de Leeuw was still out cold. You had taken the gun just in case he woke up in a panic and started to shoot at stuff. That would not end well for you. You grabbed your phone and pushed a button. 
“Yes? Hi? Hello, I am calling about what to do if I picked up the wrong passenger. Uh-huh. Yes. I didn’t have his address. Well, no. He’s unconscious. I can’t call the police, he probably owns them. What? Ok. No? The hospital is under the law as well? Yep. I can’t just take him back! No, wait. Don’t hang up. Uhg.” 
So much for customer service. 
You stuffed your phone back into your pocket. Your feet took you over to your car, and you opened the back seat. The blond man was still looked like he was asleep. Your face got closer to his. 
Hm. Up close he was quite handsome. The freckle on his lip really added bonus points. You were so engrossed with the small dot that you missed the twitch of his eyes under his eyelids. When you looked back up, your eyes met blue, which made you shriek and fall back on your butt. 
Max was a bit out of it when he was trying to wake up. What he wasn’t expecting was a face to be so close to his when his eyes finally opened. He would laugh if he had the strength as he watched you fall onto the concrete. His hand immediately went to his belt, but his heart dropped when he didn’t feel his gun. 
“Looking for this?” you asked, gun outstretched at the man in your back seat. Max’s eyes widened at the gun pointed to his head. It took all of his strength to put his hands up. 
“You don’t want to do this,” is the first calm thing that the man said to you. You, however, kept the gun pointed directly at him. 
“You’re right, I don’t. But I can’t have you freak out on me and shoot my face. Who would take care of my cat back home? My cousin Lan could, but he kills everything.” 
Max registered the slight hitch in your voice. While his hands were still up, he took a moment to look around the parking lot. In the depths of his mind, he was hoping that Lando or at least Charles were on their way to come get him. Yet, his heart rate rose as he saw a few familiar things surrounding him. 
He turned back to you. “Ok, you need to listen to me. We are in Rosberg territory right now. And he’s not going to like us on his property. So, you need to give me the gun and get back into the car.” 
Your eyes flickered around, and caught some movement to the left and then to the right. You slowly inched the gun down as you walked closer. When you were right in front of the Dutchman, you quickly handed him the gun as you rounded the car to the drivers seat. 
Max quickly reloaded the unloaded gun with a smirk on his face. You couldn’t have shot him if you tried. It took a bit for him to do it, but when the magazine fit back in the gun, he was wondering why you hadn’t taken off yet. 
“We have to go, now,” he said sternly. 
You turned around. “But I need to find a good get-away-song.” 
Max could count the pout on your lips as adorable, if it weren’t for the fact that Rosberg’s men were quickly making their way to the car. 
“You’re going to have to pick a good funeral song if you don’t hit the gas pedal.” 
“Aha!” 
The music blared out of the broken speaker as you finally put the car into drive. You heard metal hit metal and prayed that you still could trade your car out for another (even with a few bullet holes). 
Max had pressed himself up against the back seat, gun cocked and ready. 
“You better not shoot out my back window. I have to trade this car for a new one.” 
Max muttered, “You won’t trade anything if you’re dead.” 
“I heard that!” 
The mafia boss ignored you as he kept watch. When a few cars started to gain, that’s when he leaned back and aimed the gun, firing shots through your back windshield, shattering the glass. 
“Do you listen to anyone? Or is my voice just static in your brain?” you asked as you swerved onto the highway. When Max didn’t answer, you huffed. You steadily drove your car down the big roads as Max tried his best to keep the cars at bay. 
“How far am I driving?” 
Max grunted as he ducked from a bullet. “Just until exit 7. That’s my track.” 
You wanted to hit your head on the steering wheel once again. “You’re telling me that if I just kept driving, I wouldn’t be in this situation?” 
When he didn’t answer, you swerved a bit to knock him off balance. Your chuckles hit Max’s ear, pissing him off even more. 
“And to think, I was going to replace this utter junk if you made it out alive.” 
“We’re not done yet mister.” 
There was still a bit of road to go, and you were hoping that Max would try to shoot out one of their tyres, instead of trying to shoot at their drivers. He was about reload when he heard a clicking sound. Max really wanted to through himself out the door. 
“Is your blinker seriously on right now?” 
Your fully turned around to glare. 
“Yes.” 
You jerked the wheel as you got onto exit 7, making the cars behind slowly back away and continue on the highway. You wiggled in your seat as you did a little celebration. When some familiar houses came into sight, you gasped. 
“My cousin lives around here!” 
Max was out of breath as he was flabbergasted by your upbeat spirit. “Cousin?” 
“Yeah! He has this like high tech job and stuff. I come over to swim in the summer.” 
He had no words as you pulled up to a familiar house. You scrambled out the door and fell face flat on the asphalt. 
“Sweet mother, thank you, thank you.” 
You could kiss the ground, but that would be super unsanitary. When the garage creaked, you quickly got up and scrambled behind Max, who raised his gun out of instinct. However, he wanted to laugh when he saw his two best friends in full oversized gear. 
The two friends froze at the sight of their boss and, well, Lando’s cousin. 
“Y/n?” the Briton questioned, pulling the visor on the oversized helmet up. 
Your sprung in your place. 
“Lando!” 
“Max?” 
“Charles?”
Lando squinted at you. 
“Y/n?” 
A nervous giggle escaped your lips. 
“Lando?” 
The curly-haired man rushed at you, making you dodge around Max. Which, that resulted in Lando chasing you around the yard. 
“You kidnapped my friend?” 
“Why are you friends with de Leeuw and apparently Il Predestinato? I’m telling Aunt Cisca!”
“Not if I tell your mum that you Ubered in the city!” 
Max and Charles watched as the two of you ran after each other, hurling insults and threats. The two jumped when they heard a loud creak behind them and then a crash. When they looked, your car was down to the ground, wheels askew. 
“My car! De Leeuw, you’re paying for that!”  
uber_y/n has posted
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uber_y/n new baby from my new baby 🖤
liked by bestie, land0, max_v, and 204 others
bestie um excuse me ma'am 🤨 what happened to bessie? 😭
uber_y/n someone (not saying any names [max] ) SHATTERED HER BACK WINDOW
max_v I hope you like bessie 2.0 schatje
uber_y/n I dooooooo(not)
max_v woman 🙄
land0 you just had to go for my cousin 😐😑😐
uber_y/n he was very charismatic, unlike you noRIZZ 🫵💀
sharl_lec pls, for the love of everything good in this world, quit uber
uber_y/n NOPE on my way to pick up someone named...lewis?
max_v oh no
TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis
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starkwlkr · 3 months
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hi loved your Rubi and Charles oneshotes 🥹🥹🥹 it’s the cutest thing ever ,I was wondering if u can make the same with max and Noah or maybe a daughter 😭😭 please 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
little boss | max verstappen
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I’ve been wanting to write more for max lately, especially dad fics 😭 so thank you for this request!!
Whenever Noah was in the paddock, Max always made sure he was close by. It didn’t matter if he was doing interviews or in a meeting, he had to be close and the team didn’t mind. Everyone loved Noah, including the fans. During interviews, the little boy would be in his father’s arms playing with the cap on Max’s head or giving him kisses on the cheek resulting in many YouTube compilations of dad Max.
“Did you like the race, Noah?” An interviewer asked the boy, holding a microphone towards him.
Noah looked at his dad as if asking if it was okay to talk. Max gave him a nod. “I liked how the car sounds. It’s loud but I’m not scared.”
“Tell them how the car sounds.” Max said as Noah mimicked the sound of his dad’s car which resulted in various laughs.
“He’s actually my boss. He’s the one that tells me when I’m not going fast enough, when to pit, right?” Max looked at his son.
“You were slow this time . . Like when the race almost ended and you came in and I counted the seconds and it was . . “ he counted on his fingers. “It was five seconds!”
“I took five seconds? I’ll try to be faster next time, okay?” Max played along. “See? He’s my boss.”
“Do I sense a team principal in the making?”
“Watch out, Christian.” Max teased.
Other times when Max had to attend press conferences, drivers noticed how much of a dad max acted. He would often mumble throngs to Noah, who stayed with someone from the Red Bull team.
“You’re such a dad, mate.” Charles chuckled as Max got up from his seat and walked to his son to make sure he was drinking enough water.
“It’s adorable.” Lewis commented.
“I don’t want water, papa.” Noah gave Max the water bottle with a frown.
“Okay, I’ll be over here. Let me know when you want water, okay? Be good.” Max placed a gentle kiss on the boy’s head then walked back to his seat. “What was the question?”
Eventually, Noah did want water so he whispered his dad’s name until Max heard. “Water!” Noah whisper yelled.
“I can get it for you.” Max’s manager told him, but Max had gestured for Noah to come get it so the boy did so. Immediately Noah was greeted by the drivers.
“Hey, little boss man.” Lewis fist bumped the boy. “How’s school? You doing your homework?”
Noah nodded. “I got all the answers right on my test and then papa took me to see a movie and it was so funny.”
“That’s awesome!”
After having a drink of water, Max let Noah sit on his lap as the press conference continued. Towards the end, the boy was half asleep. Max kepts his arms around his little boy as he finally went to sleep. Thankfully the press conference had ended so he walked back to his driver’s room so he and Noah could have a nap together.
The next morning, the hashtag daddy max was trending. The hashtag was filled with screenshots and videos of the press conference. Some people even made memes out of the interaction between Noah and Lewis. It was clear that Max enjoyed being a dad and the whole world loved to see it.
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pearlywritings · 8 months
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Sometimes the name doesn't matter
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synopsis: sometimes it matters that you are his wife. PART 2
pairings: Capitano, Kaveh, Tighnari, Zhongli x fem!reader (separately)
tw: fluff, established relationship, hurt/comfort; hybrids, unwelcomed courting, kind of female objectification (all in Tighnari's part)
word count: 6.9k+ words
a/n: part 1 can be read here!
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Capitano
Fast elegant fingers of a pianist run across the keys of black and white and the violins in the hands of other musicians are there to serve together with the chorus of beautiful voices, selected by Lady Columbina personally. The music infiltrates the souls of the nobles present, filling them with the sense of grandeur and glory, touching even their harsh unfeeling hearts.
The atmosphere of the gathering is gratifying, would’ve even been endearing if not for the stately figures of the Harbingers standing on both sides of the throne, where the Tsaritsa would've been seated had she not decided to refrain from attending it altogether. She has more important matters to take care of, and nine of her most loyal servants can definitely fill in her place on that yearly event.
Sure, this year it is more important since the two Harbingers are missing and the seats stay vacant - it's been the talk of the nation. Who is going to be nominated? Can it be influenced? Will they claim the names today?
Is the mysterious Commander, whose arrival became the topic of multiple speculations, be the one? A fierce warrior many heard of, but almost none saw face to face. The man was believed to be as powerful as the 11th Harbinger or maybe even the 10th! Having an army and an establishment of his own on the farthest line of the Snezhnayan border, he still is under the command of Lord Capitano, which makes it even harder to fish any more information than what is already known to the public.
"I only heard about him. He and his troops are protecting our borders from the monster's invasion in the North."
"Ew, who would've wanted to live in the North! It's much harsher than all the Snezhnaya."
"Shush, the Commander is wealthy and respectful, you can bear some cold."
"What do you imply?"
"The Commander is unmarried, there is no way he isn't, not with a life like this. But it can always be changed, and the woman he takes as wife would be one of the luckiest ones!"
"You are right… Maybe he is actually handsome. Maybe he'd be even willing to buy a whole mansion for his promised one and not take her with him to that awful place. Maybe…"
Maybe, maybe, maybe. It travels through the crowds like a storm in its wake, eventually reaching the Harbingers, who, for the first time after appearing and greeting the already arrived, stop resembling the statues. Eyes shift among the people and each other; some gazes hold interest, some - annoyance. Only Pantalone has an ever present smile on his face, fingers clasped in front of him and sapphire rings sparkle in the ballroom light.
"Looks like Capitano's estimated soldier caught everyone's attention. My, my, how curious and nosy the people can be…"
"I understand the curiosity though," admits Childe, arms crossed to prevent laying even a finger on his blade, that is resting on his hip. "This person sounds like an interesting specimen… I've heard of his talents in both strategy and tactics, and it seems like his strength is a legend. I'd love to spar with him."
"Oh you, thinking only about fights, young man," Pulcinella disapprovingly shakes his head and raises his cane to point in the gingerhead's direction. "I highly doubt our guest will have time to spare, considering the period of time concerning the stay that was mentioned in the letter we received."
"And I believe the majority of that time would be spent with Il Capitano, isn't it right?" Columbina's soft voice must be drowning in the music, but everyone hears her loud and clear.
"..." The Harbinger stays silent and nothing can be read from his body language since he is the only one remaining still in his place, his huge looming figure resembling one of the full-set armor nobles like putting in their halls as a part of interior. Except this one isn't empty.
"So much potential to become my test subject, to be perfected... Yet lost to the lands of Northern regions," Dottore huffs in disappointment, his sharp teeth peaking when he clicks his tongue. "Say, Pierro, can't things be rearranged? I'd happily have our dear border protector as my underling."
The silence between the nine suddenly becomes thick. There is something indescribably tense in the air and only Childe can't understand why some of his colleagues seem to be more interested in how the Captain would react and not the 1st of the Harbingers..
"You know why this can't be rearranged, Dottore," the stare of an icy blue eye would pin everyone to the ground, destroying their will and order to obey, though doing little to scare the Doctor. "And it was favored by the Tsaritsa herself."
The finality of the short statement makes the scientist back down from the proposition he's been bringing up every time the topic touches the Commander, yet ending up the same way as always - with an ultimate rejection.
Three heavy thuds make everyone in the room fall silent. Many heads turn to look at the ceremonial staff hitting the floor the last time and staying still in the hand of a tall, thoroughly dressed man.
"The protector of the Northern border, the glorified and esteemed warrior of Her Majesty Tsaritsa, The Commander has arrived," the master's of ceremonies voice carries like a thunderclap, cutting off the quite leisurely music the orchestra was playing for the dances and entertainment.
The rustle of note sheets is fleeting and not a moment later the musicians straighten in their seats, taking a deep breath. Trumpets boom in a spacious room and make nobles shiver in surprise, some especially susceptible women even lean on their partners for support. The choir and the violins join the triumphant song the brass instruments sing, signaling that the time has come.
Everyone holds their breath as the tall heavy doors leading to the ballroom are being pulled open. Everyone has their gaze glued to a slowly growing gap. Everyone keeps their eyes wide open, afraid that even one blink can cost them missing the legendary sight.
Everyone gasps.
The tall figure enters, posture straight and shoulders squared, confidence evident in every step. Black satin clothes are adorned with golden chains and intricate patterns. The white military coat stayed resting on the shoulders - showing off the position, the closeness to the Harbingers. And then there is the face - a scar crossing the left brow, calm bored eyes, not sparing anyone a glance, which do not fit the other female features of your face.
Yes, the Commander happens to be a woman.
Stopping by the steps leading to the throne, you bow - not kneel, bow, - holding your open palm by the heart and respectfully closing your eyes. Music stops.
“Greetings, my lords. Let Tsaritsa bless you and your mission.”
“Let Tsaritsa bless you and your service to her,” Pierro says, raising his hand. “Lift your head,” which you do, looking him right in the eyes, yet still holding your hand by the chest. “There is time for duties and there is time for entertainment. And tonight, given your rare visits to the capital, I suggest you enjoy the latter.”
“Much obliged, Lord Pierro.”
And with a wave of the older man’s hand, the orchestra starts a new composition, waking up the ones who were in a daze, reminding others they are here for drama.
And the first one to take action is the 11th Harbinger.
“Commander, Sir- I mean, Lady?” The gingerhead is the closest to you out of all his colleagues, having only to descend a few steps to be on your level. “I’ve heard a lot about you, many admirable things. How do you look at sparring?”
“Right in the middle of a ballroom? Quite positively, young man,” your lips twist in a half-smirk, baring a sharp pearly canine. “But I believe the nobles have already had enough shock to take and rumors to create. Maybe another time. Haven’t seen you before though. Are you new?”
“Tartaglia, the Eleventh Harbinger, Lady Commander.”
“Ma’am would be enough,” you click your tongue, glancing behind and noticing how slowly, but surely some of the aristocrats are inching towards you, clearly interested in conversation, Well, you are not. “On second thought, starting a duel right now and here doesn’t sound like a bad idea…”
“I’ve always known you are quite insane,” Arlechino butts her way in the conversation, giving you only a small nod as a greeting. You simply glance at her.
“For years I’ve been hearing of my insanity, think of something new,”
“How about, ‘the one who knows no limits’?” Pantalone’s smile is as dazzling as it’s fake and sometimes your hands are itching to strangle the man. Maybe even go all the way out and bite his head off. Literally.
“The only ones who know no limits are the wind and the stupidity. I’m neither. Who I am though,” your gaze travels higher, to the steps closest to the Tsaritsa’s throne, to there Pierro and the first three Harbingers are standing, “is a wife. And I’d like to have a dance with my husband.”
Not many heard your words, but the ones who did, gasp loudly, staring at you with wide eyes. Which get even wider when Il Capitano, a seemingly motionless statue before, turns in his place and, without a pause, steadily descends to you. Now, as you are standing so closely it becomes evident how obviously your outfits match. The chains, the patterns, even the precious stones - everything. Perhaps it is terrifyingly cute. Perhaps it's cutely terrifying.
“Husband,” your smile again, offering him your hand, which he immediately envelopes in his big clawed one.
“Wife,” is the first word the big figure rumbles for the evening, the void of its helmet staring at you. And that’s all you speak to each other, hearing the beginning of another melody and turning to join the dancing pairs.
“...What was that?” Childe voices what’s been plaguing the minds of the attendees. “First the Commander appears to be a woman, and now she is married to the Lord Il Capitano?” He glances at Pulcinella, who joins his side and decides to watch the pair that caused a commotion have their fun. “Do they not use their names?”
“They find no sense in them,” the Rooster answers just the last question. “And,” he lowers his voice and the ginger has to bend down to hear the next words, “I didn’t tell you that, but the Captain really loves calling her his wife. So be quite cautious while seeking a fight with her. You might end up impaled. By either of them.”
Kaveh
With a soft smile you watch a group of children merrily leaving their classroom, interrupting each other in attempts to tell everyone how exciting the lesson was. They do not forget to grin and wave at you, passing by, and you return the sentiment, contently observing their happy faces and sparkly eyes.
Every time this happens, a strange sense of fulfillment overtakes you - supporting and sponsoring Kaveh was one of the best decisions you’ve ever made. The greatest architect of nowadays is offering his guidance to the young generation, teaching them everything about beauty and practicality, helping them to develop their own creative vision, and at the same time boosting the confidence of kids of all ages. And you couldn’t be prouder of him.
Him, who meticulously prepares for every single lesson. Him, who is oh-so-gentle with his words and precise in his speech. Him, who teaches both Sumeru citizens and people coming from abroad. Him, who is as passionate about it, as he is about his designing job, telling you every single detail of how the lessons went on your way home or over the dinner. Him, who is happy and who makes you happy too with that fact alone.
When the last kid leaves, marking the ending of the final class for today, you glance at the clock. Now Mister Meticulousness will need half an hour to tidy up the classroom and put all the tools away. Tomorrow is free from classes at his (he always corrects your as in the both of you) school, so you can collect your stuff as well - after all, being the manager of this establishment and Kaveh specifically requires your presence. You can be strict and unyielding whenever he can’t and this partnership proves to be successful every day.
Just as you are writing down some financial staff, there is a soft knock on the doorframe. Immediately lifting your eyes you hum, observing a very good-looking woman and a boy, shyly holding onto her hand.
“Hello, how can I help you?” With a quill laid on top of your accounting book, you stand and round the table, offering the two to step closer.
“Ah, hello, miss…” eyes with long, pretty lashes flit to the name tag attached to your clothes, “...Y/n. This is master Kaveh’s artistic school, am I correct?”
“Yes, you are. Are you here to sign your boy up for a class?” You offer her son a sweet smile and he answers you with a small lift of his lips.
“Mhm. You see, he is a big fan of master Kaveh and his works - can study the pictures of his designs taken by Kamera day and night.”
At that, the boy lowers his gaze and blushes a little, digging a hole in the ground with the tip of his shoe.
“Oh, really?” A gasp that escapes your chest is one of excitement. “That’s marvelous! I am sure your hopefully soon-to-be-teacher will be very interested in hearing your opinion of his works, young connoisseur,” he giggles, lifting his eyes at you again, and there you see undisguised delight. “Oh, but my bad, I didn’t ask your names…”
The woman’s lips bare two rows of perfectly white teeth as she smiles at you, introducing herself and her son.
“We are from Fontaine actually. But my parents wanted to spend some indefinite period of time in Sumeru for their health and we decided to join them. So while we are here, I thought I’d make my son’s dream come true.”
“That’s so nice of you,” you can’t help but admire her a little for that. “I can tell you first a little about our school, you’ll ask all the questions you need to, and then I’ll show you around. Kaveh should be done with cleaning by then, so there’s a big chance you’ll even talk to him personally.”
“Really!?” That’s the first time throughout your entire interaction when the boy opens his mouth and actually makes a sound. “Master Kaveh is here right now?”
“He is. But can’t promise a long conversation - there are still blueprints waiting for him back at home.
“Ah, right… He is the great architect after all,” the woman hums, staring to the side as if in thought. “Between the commissions he takes and this school he must be making good money. Not to mention so handsome…”
Oh… What a familiar tone, what a familiar look in those eyes. Suddenly that ounce of respect you felt for her disappears.
“Money is irrelevant to him as long as he reaches his goal,” is your restrained response. 
“Ah, of course! Handsome, sweet, kind, good with kids and is not a snob. Sweety, you ought to charm him for me!” She pinches her son’s cheek. “Imagine Master Kaveh as your daddy!”
Oh Archons, again?
There is absolutely no doubt that the light of Kshahrewar is not only well-known and popular among kids, but is thirsted after by women. In a half of a year your school has been existing, there were numerous times when moms of little students made comments alike or some single females trying to schedule private sessions with the architect. What a sagacious decision it was to make group studying only, it saves you some drama, once the legal document is shown. Though there are exceptionally persistent examples…
But this time you pity the kid a little, because he genuinely seems to admire Kaveh. And his next words make you internally cheer for the little guy.
“Master Kaveh as my dad? But mom, I have a dad already,” the boy pouts, rubbing at the pinched cheek. You notice a red mark and two little crescent moons that her nails left on a tender skin. “I love him and don’t need another one.”
“Sweety, you just don’t understand how great it would be to have such a dad! Just trust my word-”
“Ahem, Madame, I kindly ask you to deal with your family affairs once you are out of here. As for the school - I am open for discussion.”
The displeased way she glances at you doesn’t go unnoticed, but you do not show it anyhow, calmly staring back at her, while your hand reaches up to your chest. As if finally remembering her initial reason for coming here with her son, the woman sighs and puts a palm on the boy’s shoulder.
“Of course, miss- I’m sorry I forgot your name…” And her eyes flit to the name tag again.
Momentarily the woman squints from the light reflecting on the metal, and when she blinks the bright spots away, there is a beautiful golden ring on your hand. The hand that is holding the flipped tiny plate with just two words engraved in it.
"Kaveh's wife"
With widened eyes she stares back at your sweetly polite smile. Not saying a word as if letting the notion sink in, you walk to the wall. Grabbing the backs of two chairs you drag them to your table so they could sit, and take your rightful place in front of them. 
“If you are here for something aside from or instead of signing your son up for classes, I believe my name should be irrelevant to you. My status though,” you knock a nail twice on the badge, “must. So… what are you here for, Madame?”
The boy climbs onto his chair right away, while his mother tarries a little, still shocked by the revealed fact and your suddenly changed demeanor. She needs a couple more seconds to compose herself, but eventually she too sits down.
Despite what happened earlier, your conversation proves to be fruitful and fifteen minutes later you are showing around the school, sharing some additional information and answering every single of the kid’s questions. 
When in the last room you find your husband, closing Mehrak and looking ready to leave, the boy lets out a gasp. The sound attracts the man’s attention, and he turns to the three of you with a soft smile.
“Oh, hello there, little guy!” The blond waves at him, breaking the blissful stupor of a child that immediately turns red and hides behind his mother. Surprised, Kaveh looks at you for explanation but, instead, takes notice of your name’s replacement. Oh wow, this again. What was the last time you did that? Two weeks ago?
“Ah, Master Kaveh!” The woman charmingly smiles, batting her lashes at him, which would’ve made you cringe had it never happened before. “You see, my son-”
“Pardon me, Madame, give me a moment,” the male softly interrupts her and reaches for a similar metal plate on his chest with his own name to flip it. It’s almost comical how sour the temptress’s face got in a second.
And there is what for. Now two words are proudly matching yours, engraved in an equally beautiful cursive to remind the world who the two of you become once stripped of your names.
Just his ”Y/n’s husband” to your “Kaveh’s wife”.
And like that one more kid takes part in your lovely school and one suitor less is after one of its founders.
Tighnari
With each passing day of your team’s research in the desert you found it harder and harder to control yourself. Some days you were even on the verge of clawing and biting, tail and ears twitching in annoyance and pupils turning into wild slits, making your hybrid nature more obvious.
Was it because of the research? No, it couldn’t be farther - your colleagues have been making so much progress, heeding your advice and following your lead. Was it the location perhaps? A little, but you learnt how to deal with heat and dryness. Was the process taking too much time? On the contrary, you are on your way home already, having finished the job 4 days earlier than you estimated in the beginning.
Then what on earth could possibly trigger you like this?
Well…
“Hey, forest foxy, want me to catch the Consecrated Flying Serpent for you?”
Ah yes, him.
Never again will you trust the higher ups at the Akademiya to sponsor your team with the bodyguards. Out of every possible candidate, your Herbad-titled colleague concluded that hiring five descendants of Valuka Shuna would be a marvelous idea. 
“They are the desert kind - they’ll be good guides.” “Look how much stronger they are, they’ll definitely protect all of you.” “They are of the same kind as you, Y/n. Don’t you think it’ll be easier for you, as the leader, to have someone akin with you?”
No, it absolutely would not!
Desert fennec hybrids are different from the forest ones - and it’s not even the case of your green and their sandy brown fur or their more brutal physique against your more delicate one. It’s their character and world perception. You’ll never call them barbarians, but they really developed more of the animal nature than your kind did.
And from day one it was a pain in the butt. 
One of your five new bodyguards was clearly the leader - he was bigger and broodier, with more scars littering his body, and his whole stance was screaming of a higher position. When you were introduced for the first time, something lit up in his grayish eyes, which were looking you over appreciatively. You ignored that, more focused on the discussion of the upcoming expedition and making sure the five were aware of what was required of them.
Luckily they were, and, admittedly, they did fulfill their task meticulously, proving to be great help. If only one of them wasn’t so diligent.
You lost count of how many times the leader tried to get into your personal space and you had to move away. Of the numerous invitations to hunt together. Of the endless displays of his strength and abilities. Of the many conversations you didn’t even try to eavesdrop on (they talked pretty loudly) around the topic of when will your shell be cracked and you’d accept the male’s courting attempts.
The answer was obvious, but he just never got it. Even when you called him for a serious conversation on the turning-into-an-issue matter.
“With all respect I must ask you to stop with whatever you’ve been doing to woo me. I have a husband.”
You still remember how he blinked at you dumbly, clear lack of understanding written on the sun-kissed face.
“...and?”
“The heck do you mean ‘and’?”
“Well, you don’t have a mate?”
It was your turn to stare at him speechless, ear twitching and tail curling closer to your legs. It was getting worse than just ridiculous.
“If we are speaking in such terms, then my husband is my mate. So, please-”
You nearly gasped when the male immediately leant closely, violating your personal space and practically stuffing his nose against your neck. Shocked by such lack of shame, you lost the ability to talk or move for a moment, gaping at him sniffing around and humming upon the discovery.
“You don’t wear anyone’s smell on you.”
You were not proud of yourself at that moment, but you absolutely lost it. Sharpened claws dug into his chest and with an angry snarl you pushed him back.
“Get away from me!”
You must’ve been a sight - canines bared and fingers twitching, ready to attack; fur standing on both your ears and tail, signaling your distress and eyes slitted in pure rage while directed at the man in front of you. The worst part? The idiot seemed to like it even more.
“What me and my partner do must be of no concern to you. I told you ‘no’ and I mean it.”
But bold of you was to assume he’d stop. Oh no, it’s gotten worse. Now he was actively calling you a ‘forest foxy’, absolutely abandoning your name and even trying to scent you. It was suffocating - the desert aridity was lighter in comparison to the male hybrid’s pheromones. 
Never in all your academic practice have you wanted to return home so badly.
Fortunately, your colleagues quickly caught on to what was going on and always helped you to escape the unwanted interactions. Plus they were equally as mad as you were, because his individual scent irritated their human noses - and that was the main reason why you and Tighnari, both spending a lot of time around other people, did not practice it. Partly, you are sure, this whole situation was the reason for your earlier return - and you were grateful for their understanding.
However, your stubborn suitor did not dream of giving up. Killed desert animals were still offered to you, stories of his legendary battles with monsters were told for the hundredth time (even though no one was interested in listening at that point) and attempts to lure you with the musky smell once again made. Archons, and the green-furred fennec girls from your teens used to dream of that.
Maybe Lesser Lord Kusanali would be merciful and you’ll meet your husband somewhere on your way?
“Herbad Y/n!”
…wow, that was quick. Not Tighnari, but incredibly welcome too.
“Collei!” For the first time in days there is a reason for your soft smile. Which the young girl mirrors, waving at you from not so far away. You notice a couple more of the Forest Rangers at her side, and that sight alone makes you finally exhale in relief. You are so close to being home.
“Master is here too! Want me to get him?”
Oh, Dendro Archon, thank you.
“I’d really appreciate it, dear!” With a quick nod the green-haired apprentice disappears in the bushes, and you turn back to the scholars of your group. It’s time to abuse your power a little. “We are almost at the Devadaha Pool. Since all of you live in Sumeru City I hope you’ll excuse me for staying behind. As for you five,” your gaze moves to the bodyguards and it’s so hard not to rejoice - soon they’ll be just a memory, “I ask you to accompany the rest of my team to the Akademiya. Then you can consider your job done and be free. Keep the payment for the last three days that didn’t happen - think of it as a bonus for a good job.”
All but one eagerly nod and bid you farewell with wishes of getting home safely. And frankly speaking? You couldn’t care less for that one when you spot familiar and oh so dear big pointy ears with an intricate golden earring adorning one of them.
“Tighnari!” You didn’t want to sound so desperate, you really didn’t. But when those forest-like lovely eyes look in your direction, it becomes clear to you - the yearning has gotten unbearable.
“Y/n…” His smile is dazzling and the way his body immediately pushes to walk to you almost makes the memories of the last weeks’ events go away.
The key word - almost.
Someone grabs your elbow when you want to meet him halfway. Oh right, you already forgot about him.
“Let me go, you, imbecile!” And again you have to snarl and be rude, ripping your arm out of the strong hold and quickly darting into your husband’s embrace. The natural smell of the leaves, the flowers, the sweet and bitter concoctions he makes in his home laboratory, comfort you and your whole body goes nearly limp in his hold. It’s been weeks and you are tired of fighting with the brick wall - this time you want your lover to handle it for you.
“Y/n, my lotus, are you alright?” Gentle fingers comb through your hair and scratch at the base of your ears - a whole ass adult, that you are, wants to tear up. But you can only shake your head a no. “Has this man been bothering you?” This time it’s a yes. “I got you, dear.”
“So,” the browny green eyes sharpen upon staring at the cause of your current state, when it starts speaking, “you are that ‘husband’ the foxy has been talking about? I thought you’d be stronger. Or at least taller. Now I see that I was right and you really can’t be her mate.”
“Oh but I am. Not that we have to prove anything to a stranger. Y/n,” he carefully pries your face from his shoulder, caressing your cheek with a beanie pad, “let’s go home. You must be so-so tired.”
“I am, ‘nari. I am exhaus-”
“There’s no smell of you on her and vice versa,” the desert descendent of the Valuka Shuna seems to not be planning to stop. “Her neck is not marked. You let her wander by herself for weeks? And you keep calling her by the name. Her name should've stopped mattering once she became your mate!”
The hand around your waist tenses and you can feel the claws threatening to tear through the gloves he always wears. You don’t need to look at the face of your lover to know how pissed he is. And if Tighnari decides to attack him and tear his tongue out? You will not stop him.
“I am going to say it once and only once. She is not just a mate, she is my wife, by the Sumeru law and by the blessing of the Dendro Archon. And this fact must matter to you more than the case of her name. So fuck off and leave my wife alone. And if you don’t get it in a civil way - this woman is taken. And this territory is mine.”
With that, the Forest Watcher effortlessly lifts you in his arms and, holding you as if a precious bride, turns around to leave. You haven’t looked back once.
“You can’t imagine how much I missed being called your wife,” you quietly confess, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Especially after he didn’t listen when I said that I am.”
Tighnari hums sympathetically, leaning close to rub his nose against yours.
“Will it be okay then if today I address you as my wife only? When we join the other rangers, I mean.” 
”...if you think I will be embarrassed - make it a whole week.”
With a soft chuckle your husband plants a kiss on your lips, sealing the deal and promising you tranquil days at last.
“As you wish, wife.”
Zhongli
"...and so Rex Lapis takes the form of a dragon, a majestic creature he was born as - the one of whom the fair maiden would never be scared of. Lady Guizhong's robes flutter in the tender wind traveling among the mountain peaks and caressing the earthly scales of the God's enormous body. His eyes, shiny as gold, gaze at her with an unfamiliar softness as she holds a gentle flower - a delicate gift from her lover, the one that proves that under all that armor is a stone heart capable of love. Heart that is beating for her."
To loud applause the Iron Tongue Tian bows his head, drawing the legend of the gods in love to its end. You cannot bring yourself to clap even politely, both hands on your lap, hidden under the table, twitching when a man beside you lets his gloved palms meet each other a couple of times.
It’s the second time you had to sit and endure the baloney from the very beginning to the very end, not to count all those times you overheard it in passing. From the moment you settled in the Liyue Harbor together with your husband, to live the rest of your incredibly long lives together among the humans, you've been painfully aware of their interpretation of Rex Lapis and his relationship with other immortal beings. Before that you rarely accompanied him during the walks, busy with helping Yakshas and other adepti protect the said humans to grant them a peaceful life - as immortal guardians grew fewer, every single one counted.
Never have you ever imagined that knowing so little of the citizens’ folklore would backfire so hard. It seems that people got somewhat bored listening to the stories of Liyue and Rex Lapis, no matter how many interpretations existed. Literature became more diverse in genres and romantic novels were on top of the list, so street narrators started losing their audience little by little. Before it could grow into something more drastic the new side of history was presented to the public - stories about love among immortals appeared and its freshness and uniqueness caught people’s attention immediately.
In their searches for new material, speakers dug through hundreds of volumes. The main interest was the Lord of Geo, of course. If you have a story of a presumably stone-hearted creature ever having fallen in love with someone - that’s pure gold! But who could you present as a love interest of the Archon? It must be someone very close to him and, obviously, no one is more well-known for that than the deceased Archon of Dust.
You sigh, reaching for your cup and declining Madam Ping’s offer to pour you some more tea - for an unclear reason the fellow adeptus joined you two tonight. You have thousands of years of life behind your existence, a soul hardened by constant battles, and mannerism as polished as a jade statue, yet for a moment you feel concerned that the woman would notice a pang of hurt in the smallest of your features.
Zhongli definitely noticed the first time. It was meant to be a date night - simple, but sweet, with the evening lights, delightful aroma of the finest tea and the tales pouring from skilled tongues reflecting the atmosphere of what your nation really is. However, the luck of the land of trades wasn’t on your side, as someone requested the “Guili legend” as they called it. At first you were confused. Then in disbelief, almost turning to look at your mate, with whom you were bonded long before he became allies with the ash-haired woman. In the end you felt something you thought was beyond you - bitterness.
When you left the restaurant, slowly walking back to your house, Zhongli’s fingers gently touched your elbow, asking for your attention.
“Does it bother you that much, my love?”
Bother you? Well… It does feel insulting when someone speaks of your husband having been in love with someone else, but mortals can’t possibly know the truth for many reasons.
“I can’t say it doesn’t,” you admitted calmly, stopping and turning fully to him. He did the same, gazing at you with a hint of worry in those golden eyes you loved so much. The ones, you knew, always looked only at you. “But it can’t be helped, right? There was a reason and mutual agreement why you, as Rex Lapis, made our union unknown to your people, and now, since you are “dead”? There is no one to tell our story. Don’t worry though,” you put a hand on top of his and smiled, when his other one was laid on top of yours in a gesture of comfort. “I can deal with it. I know you love going to the storyteller’s performances. I’ll just try to ignore what they say about you and Lady Guizhong.”
Sometimes Zhongli thinks he does not deserve you. Ever so patient and understanding, you always had your husband's best interest at heart. Marriage, however, in its basis is a form of a contract, and a good contract is all about both sides being equal in everything. And if you must know one thing about Rex Lapis - he never makes bad contracts.
When the audience calms down, the man decides to make his presence and intentions clear by raising a hand. From the corner of his eye he notices you slightly turning your head to glance at him, and he catches a glimpse of puzzlement in your gaze. He can't help but think how adorable you are, even if you deny it again and again, claiming that nothing can be adorable about a several millennia-old warrior. Maybe not, but his wife definitely is, and he thinks with a primordial pride igniting in his chest, that mating with you was the best decision his past self had ever made.
Reaching under the table he rests his free hand on top of yours, gently squeezing it in reassurance, offering you the warmth of himself, seeping through his glove. Just as your shoulders relax to his delight, the raised hand adorned with rings is finally noticed.
"Ah, Mr Zhongli! Such an honor to see a regular, especially someone as wise as yourself!" Iron Tongue Tian beams with a wide smile, closing his fan and focusing his full attention on the history connoisseur. "I doubt you have questions, given your vast knowledge, and I can't wait to hear what else you can add to this already heart-felt story."
You force your lips not to twitch, hiding behind the tea cup again. Suddenly it tastes bitter. But another squeeze your husband gives your hand doesn't let you dwell on it too much.
"You are correct, I do have some knowledge to offer. However, it might disappoint you, as it will completely destroy the story of the Geo Archon and the Archon of Dust."
The whispers ran through the crowd like a powerful wave, and you can see confusion written over every single face. But also, there is intrigue.
"I took it upon myself,” Zhongli however continues, “to invite Madame Ping to back up my story, as she was the witness to it," the elder woman - a well-known Adeptus that doesn't hide her existence among mortals - nods with a soft smile.
"I read this in legends a long time ago, but remembered only when the 'Guili legend' became popular. Rex Lapis indeed had a lover, however it was not Lady Guizhong," the gasps are almost deafening. Just as your quickened heartbeat.
And for the next hour the man by your side and the elderly-looking woman that joined you tonight proceed to tell the story of the adeptus, who was the first and only to ever bring the Geo Archon to his knees, to be worshiped like a goddess by his eyes, by his words, by his very heart. Of a warrior, whose fierce eyes and valiant nature made a dragon in Rex Lapis roar in delight. Of the woman, who entranced him with her beauty, caring soul and motherly attention directed to other adepti - Madame Ping adds with a laugh of how the two created a parent-like dynamic even before they became official (at that you find it so hard not to turn bashful).
They tell the legend of the silk flowers - the ones you might see everywhere in the vast lands of Liyue. How the Geo Archon personally asked the Dendro Archon for guidance to cultivate the tenderest of flowers, how he taught his people to make the delicate fabric out of it, but even then it couldn’t compare to the skin of his immortal mate.
They tell stories of how annoyed she was when the god turned into a dragon to fall asleep somewhere in the depths of the earth for years without telling her prior, and how he returned with the purest stones and metals and with his own hands forged the pair of matrimonial rings (yes, the ones wrapped around your fingers to this day).
Madame Ping fondly speaks of all those thousands of years of protection the said adeptus spent to make sure that her godly spouse’s people were safe and maybe just a tiny sliver of pride rushes through your heart at the public acknowledgement.
“But she wished not to be known,” the woman sighs and you know she glances at you reproachfully. Well-deserved, given the circumstances you are in right now. “Thus it’s not much of a surprise people made a mistake like that. Besides, you won’t find much information in written sources about her either way.”
 “But she must have a name at least!” Someone from the fairly grown crowd exclaims.
“That she does,” Zhongli nods, lacing his fingers with yours under the table, lips tugging in a calm smile, when you squeeze his hand in return. “Though I am afraid it would be pointless to try and find out now - we wouldn’t want to disturb her mourning the departure of her husband, would we? After all, they must’ve loved each other so much.”
“But how can you be so sure?”
“Because,” golden eyes are on you, catching yours, pulling you in, whispering for your soul and heart to get lost in them, “I can understand how this love was born and got to bloom. My wife showed me that.”
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