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#but also scold him for his actions
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The thing about S1 Jamie that I think is interesting is I think on rewatch there is some insight as to why Jamie went so hard on the bullying of Sam. (Not gonna be defending Jamie's treatment of Sam just looking into maybe why). Because out of all of the things Jamie did is season one. The one that seems hardest to understand or really forgive is his treatment of Sam. The first time around, you couldn't understand it. Sam is legitimately the kindest man in existence. (I know as a stroyteller it was the easiest way to really get us to dislike Jamie and really make us more understanding of Roy's treatment of Jamie which to be frank is not great and understand Ted's fruatrations with him) and Sam just keeps trying with Jamie.
But know I think it far to say thay S1 Jamie was jealous of Sam and his easy going, happy, postive nature. I dont think he was aware of it though.
Season 1 Jamie is so interesting because on paper, he had everything he thought he wanted. But I dint think he was overally happy. But yeah it seemed to be all his way
1. He played for the team he grew up supporting and dreamed of playing for. I imagine his first time stepping on that fiels in that uniform would have been monumental. Sure, maybe he wasn't a starter, but he got some minutes and the unspken agreement that in a few years, he would be a star.
2. I imagine he was initially disappointed to be loaned out, but then he learns he is being loaned to Richmond. Yeah they suck, but he gets to play a full 90 minutes, is basically going to be the best player, kick most of thier goals and he gets to be team mates with Roy Kent (he dreamed of playing against him one day, with him is a dream come true, I really think pre show Jamie would have been so excited to play with Roy Kent and was so disappointed in how it turned out). Plus, it has the added advantage of getting him away from his dad. And once his done his loan, he can come back to Manchester. This is his chance to get away from it for a while and be the star
3. He meets and gets to date Keely Jones who his always had a crush on. Dhe is literally a dream girl for him
So he should be happy right. His got everything he wanted, but it's not going the way he expected because.....
1. Roy Kent hates him (in my mind Roy was standoffish from the start, heres come this whizkid who was everything he used to be and slowly losing. I think Jamie came in at 100% and immediatley put Roy on the back foot). Jamie tries with Roy but the more it doesnt work the more Jamie goes OK, if I cant make him like me I will show him I am better than him. Hence the beginning of that relationship.
2. Yeah his away from his dad and his killing it at Richmond, scoring their goals, winning them matches but it only seems to be winning over half the team (he can't see yet his attitude is what is stopping the other guys from liking him). And the team still isn't doing great even with him. Plus he may be away from his Dad but his relationship with his mum feels like it in a werid place which sucks cause she is his favourite person ever.
3. And Keeley seems to be where its going right but sometimes it feels like his a bit of a project for her. And I think he has heard people (like Roy) question why she is with him.
And let's face it, he is still likely hearing from his dad when he doesn't perform up to his standards.
And then heres Sam. Who (at this point in time) isn't playing well, isn't scoring goals, not massively contributing to thier wins and yet he seems so genuinely happy all the time and everyone loves him, Roy Kent seems to like him and is friendly with him, complimenting him (which he has never done to Jamie). Sam is so open and kind he has probably talked about his dad in the locker room, and his relationship with his family seems perfect and that must gnaw at Jamie because all he ever wanted is to make his dad proud and his pretty sure he will never achieve it because the man is a d***k who is impossoble to please, yet Jamie never stops trying and things are werid with his mum which he hates. But all he hears when its brought up from Sam is how great his family is.
Then along comes the new gaffer who Jamie can't even understand why he is coaching, but he also seems to love Sam and wants him to be the decoy so Sam can kick the goal. Even though Jamie knows if he kicks it, it will go in.
Now we all know the reason Sam is liked is because he is an amazing, kind hearted, dedicated person, but I think S1 Jamie is so jealous and does not even know it.
Because S1 Jamie is still living with the notion that being the best in the most important thing ( thank you James Tartt Sr) so to Jamie he is out here busting his ass at training to be the best, scoring all the goals yet Sam seems to be the one who is living what he thought his dream time at Richmond was going to be. And I know I mention it but I think it is a big thing for Jamie, the harder he tries the more Roy seems to despise him, and take enjoyment in his embarrassment.
And S1 Jamie in all maturity handles his jealously by trying to make Sam feel as bad as he is feeling. Which Jamie, baby. That's kindergarten mentality. And poor Sam actually thinks Jamie is a great player and would love to learn from him in the beginning and isnt having a great time either.
But yeah. I dont think Jamie ever disliked Sam. I think he was insanly jealous of him all the time and didn't know how to handle that or even admit it himself.
Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk. Apologies for my rambles.
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nelkcats · 8 months
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Secret Boyfriend
Jason met his boyfriend in a rather peculiar way: he was doing his usual rounds, disposing of the dregs of society with a couple of bullets and offering shelter to hapless victims when one of his victims began to...revive?
The easiest way to put it was that the bastard turned glowing green, and Jason had collaborated enough times with Justice League Dark to know that something supernatural was coming.
Before the whole process was complete, however, another portal opened and out stepped a pretty pissed off guy. The spirit that had just been born was intimidated by the new spirit and Jason could only watch dumbfounded as the twink destroyed the former serial killer with scathing words and scolding.
He was instantly smitten and began flirting with the rabid spirit. It wasn't long before Danny reciprocated his flirtations and well, Jason could tell it was the best thing that had happened to him all year.
On the other hand, the Batfamily was worried about Jason's constant disappearances and his sudden calmness. Fearing the worst (and seeing that they couldn't leave a matter unresolved) they decided to investigate, much to the chagrin of the Crime Lord who responded to their interrogations with deflections and continued to hide his boyfriend as best he could.
Danny thought it was a fun game and just went along with it. Tim was stressed and wanted to get it all over with.
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grapejuicegay · 2 years
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I want to absolutely continue putting kinn on blast for forgetting about pete but i also want to acknowledge that PORSCHE FORGOT ABOUT HIM TOO
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danothan · 2 years
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i desperately need to know how nsfw kirashino fics are written if for no other reason than the elephant in the room. like, she HAS to know that’s not her husband’s penis right
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flovverworks · 5 months
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thinking about some of the earlier brad parts in pt2. like the fact the 'sages heart' ch is his pov.....???? the reason we listen to the sage is cuz of their heart.....?? being the one to tell akira to stop trying to read into their expressions so much when akira assumes brad doesnt like their idea. that one summer event where mithra snow white goes "ya brad disappeared:/ he mightve died in lava we r not sure:/" and the teachers are all "uh thats unfortunate. anyway he'll prob be fine whats next on the agenda" while akira is increasingly stressed out
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nariism · 9 months
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neuvillette is aware that he shouldn’t have let you get so close. but he did, and now he’s lamenting the fact that your hands are grasping at his soft horns — his fucking horns, of all places — and he might like it.
uptight and strait-laced, you’ve never known the chief justice to be someone so easily flustered. yet here he is with heat crawling up his neck, so warm that you can feel it against your palms as they ghost over his skin.
you can’t help but laugh at his current situation.
he was vehemently against you coming anywhere near his hair at first, grumbling about how his horns were on the sensitive side and he would rather not have to go into work feeling uncomfortably aware of their presence on his head.
however, you were hard to deny with that little smile on your face and such soft hands grabbing at his arms, tugging him closer. a sweet voice chanting, "please, honey? pretty please?"
neuvillette has never been good at denying you what you want.
it’s how he ends up sitting at your shared vanity. you comb through his long hair, watching him with amusement in the mirror as he huffs and jolts with every brush of your fingers against his horns.
the fact that he was letting you get anywhere near them was surely a testament to his trust in you. he was completely vulnerable here, at your mercy.
“sorry,” you mumble disingenuously, clearly enjoying seeing your usually serious husband falling apart with a simple action. you quickly tie off the end of his hair with a bow and he sighs in relief, thinking that the torment is over.
it's far from over.
he draws a sharp breath when you lean forward and press two gentle kisses on him; one on either side of his head just beside his horns.
neuvillette glowers at you in the reflection, disapproval written all over his face. "stop that," he scolds.
you do, but only because you're worried he might melt into a puddle before your very eyes if you continue.
it becomes a daily routine after that, with him sitting patiently in front of the mirror while you brush and tie off his hair. and you always end it the same way: two kisses, a soft "have a good day at work," murmured against him, and a mischievous little smile that makes him sigh.
he responds everyday with the same two words. "stop that," with a narrow-eyed glare.
the day you do stop, he's confused and irritated.
not only because you have the audacity to throw a wrench into routine again, which you know he hates, but also because he can't figure out why he misses your lips so much.
"what are you doing? i am going to be late."
"hm?" you peer up lazily from your spot on the bed, still half asleep.
"you have to do my hair."
"i thought you didn't want me to, so i slept in today."
your husband is eerily silent for a moment as he mulls over your words. then, he carefully perches himself on the edge of the bed, back turned to you expectantly and still wordless.
no, he would never admit he likes it just a little bit — the vulnerability, the trust, the feeling of your hands threading through his hair, the intimacy of it. hell no.
but neuvillette doesn't have to say a lot of things for you to understand; not when the way his skin heats up says it all; not when you're the first person to touch his horns in centuries; not when he’s saying stop that with such an affectionate glimmer in his eyes.
you give him four kisses that morning, two on either side.
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© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.
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ladadiida · 7 months
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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
8K notes · View notes
mysicklove · 7 months
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𝐅𝐈𝐗 𝐌𝐄
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DAY 2: SUB SPACE + MOMMY KINK
With: Satoru Gojo
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: Sub! Gojo, Fem? reader (no pronouns just use of names: mommy and mama), unreleastic portrayal of sub space, mentions of BDSM (rough treatment, degradation,whips, mistress/master use), safeword use (at the end), lots of cooing, Gojo unable to think properly, praise, comfort, clingy/needy Gojo
A/N: this was actually really fun to write! i did a little research on what subspace feels like, and it says it varies from person to person, but it is a sort of euphoric experience. sooo idk! lol. also, a lot of ppl r here for gojos personality, and I feel bad bc he is not like his usual self in this bc of his headspace...dont hate me gojo simps
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Gojo Satoru is kinky. Plain and simple. He has tried many different things throughout his lifetime, and he is now confident enough in many different types of sexual play. He spends way too much time on the internet buying all sorts of toys, cuffs, ropes, whips, just to build his secret obsession. He has been with many people, and has always pulled them down to the dark side with him. 
But through it all, he has never found a partner to really push him to his limits. They all get too scared to hurt him, and call their safeword too early. They get uncomfortable when he sobs for mercy, or in other situations, begs for more pain. Gojo doesn't want to be just treated harshly, he wants to be broken. His standards are higher than most.
And finally his dreams came true when he met you. You've been into BDSM for years now, and even if the two of you are dating, you have a strict contract of rules you must obey for eachothers safety. It was cute, he was practically trembling in excitement when he saw the agreement, signing his hame sloppily, and waiting for your next move.
It was strange seeing someone so cheery and upbeat turn into a different breed during a scene. He was long passed the brat now, every defining thought fucked out of him. He's been slapped around, beaten, scolded, forced to orgasm, and humiliated in the past two hours. He has never had anyone treat him this rough. 
A huge part of him loved it, and a small part of him twinged in fear whenever he heard you begin to move again. It sent a multitude of thoughts to his brain, What now? Are you going to hurt him? Was he being good now? Another punishment? 
His blue eyes follow your every movement, and he flinches when you bring your hand up to his face, expecting another slap. You chuckle at the movement, gently petting his face. It takes him a second to realize what is happening, but from there, he melts into your hold. He presses himself deeper into your hand, eyes heavy from exhaustion.
Satoru accomplished his goal though. He was, for the first time ever, wrecked. His hair is matted against his head, damp from sweat. His body is covered in hickeys, bitemarks, bruises, scratches, and marks from the flogger. He was trembling, muscles contracting every couple of seconds without permission. Drools coats his lips, and it starts to drip down his mouth and onto his chin. His eyes seem to be in a different world, cloudy, and half lidded. His cock lays spent against his thigh, flushed red, and leaking just the last of his cum.
But even through it all, he's smiling at you. It’s a fucked out sort of grin, lazy, but content. His cheek is pressed against your palm, and he's nuzzling into it, basking in the softness of your touch, contrasting your earlier actions. “There ya go. You doing all right, Satoru?”
He blinks at you, slow, and thoughtless. “Yeah.”
You climb onto the bed next to him, brushing his hair back affectionately, and a little worriedly. He looked rather beat, and his exhausted eyes made you want to end the session now. “Alright, lets clean you up, and get you to bed,” You soothe, hands rubbing at his thighs, hoping your touch brings him comfort.
Immediately he pulls away, a small pout on his face. “Noooooo,” He uncharacteristically whines, grabbing at your hand. “Wanna…Wanna go some more. I'm doing good, right Mommy? No more punishments,” He pleads, tears coating his eyes. “Reward. Wanna reward, pleaseeee.”
Mommy wasn't todays title. You were called mistress, and master today solely. His words made your eyes widen, and you instantaneously knew he was deep into the subspace. You've seen glimpses of it, the way he becomes uncharacteristically obedient and he gets slightly giggly, probably from the light headed feeling, but he looked deep into his now. His words dragged out, and his body was obviously spent, but still he craved your approval; he wanted nothing more than to please you now. 
Affection, love and care is what he needs right now and you were happy to provide him with it. So, you straddle his lap, and place kisses on every surface you can touch. His body is warm, and he goes slack against your hold, mouth falling open. “Do you want to cum again, ‘toru? Or just attention?”
He goes silent for awhile, his mind hazy, and not liking the idea of making his own choice. He wanted you to take care of him completely, to let his mind slip away, and for you to control his ever thought, movement. “Please,” He mumbles, face scrunching up with frustration.
You are quick to apologize, recognizing his situation almost instantly. “Alright, alright. I'll take care of you. Lets cum one more time, can you do that for me, pretty boy?”
Pretty boy. A nickname unlike the harsh ones he received earlier: brat, slut, dog, whore. In the moment it only increased to turn him on, but now, he wanted to be good. The thought of you calling him those names made him want to tear up, and sob into your arms. He didn't want you to be mean anymore, he wants you to love him. To praise him on anything and everything. 
He jumps when he feels your hand drift back to his cock. It aches from all the abuse from earlier, and he lets out a shaky whimper, not liking the pain as much as he once did. “H-Hurts,” He yelps, wishing for you to make it better. To fix it all, why did everything ache so badly? He wants comfort, and as quickly as possible.
You kiss at his tears and pull his face into your neck. “‘m sorry. Was Mommy too rough with you today? Shhh, it’ll feel better in a bit, just relax,” You encourage, beginning to slide your hand up and down his length. He twitches and mewls from beneath you, fighting the feeling of overstimulation and pleasure. He wants this, he wants this, he wants this so badly, but he wishes it wasn't so uncomfortable.
He shakes his head into your neck, “Wasn't too rough. I'm fine, Mama j-just make me feel better, please,” he whispers, voice hoarse, and soft. One of your hands pet his hair, while the other strokes him off, shushing his cries, and reassuring that he will feel better soon.
You were right of course, the pain of overstimulation died off, and Gojo felt like he was melting. Everything is so warm, so light, he feels like he was on cloud nine. He feels loved, and every loose thought was traced back to you. “Love you s-so much.”
You grin at him, pressing your lips to his. His lips are chapped from his excessive panting, but you don't mind, licking at the plush flesh. He whimpers and groans, his hands pawing at you to pull you impossibly closer. When you pull back, he follows you, letting out a small huff in complaint. You pepper his face with kisses in apology. “Love you too. Such a good boy, Satoru, I'm so lucky to have such a pretty boy.”
He withers under the praise, nodding his head dumbly. He wants to coax so more out of you, but he can't think of ways, so he just rest his head on your chest, and chants, “Mommy” on repeat. 
Your hand is slow in pace, careful to not overwhelm him. It slides up and down easily, his previous cum acting as lube. His cock is bright red, and you almost feel bad for it after pulling so many orgasms from it earlier. You are suprised he is still even awake, sure, he looks and acts exhausted, but by this long he is usually passed out. He must be awake only because he is searching for praise and comfort from earlier. To not find himself in a sub drop.
You catch his eye, and a wobbly smile pulls at his face. You chuckle at him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Whaddya want from me?” He asks, voice cracking in the middle of the sentence.
“Hmm?”
He taps his forehead against yours, hazy blue eyes staring into yours. “Wanna command. Wanna be useful for you.” 
You smile warmly at him and he shivers, leaning up to kiss you again. You hand rubs over his small slit, and he gasps, pausing just centimeteres before you face, and moaning out. 
“You are deep in this, aren't you sweet boy?” You murmur, mostly to your self, slightly astonished. It was one thing for him to ask for praise, and to make decisions for him, but actively seeking instructions from you was another. It was fascinating, and adorable to say the least, how desperately he craved approval, or wanted to feel needed, useful. Nothing how Gojo usually was like.
You thumb at his tip, and he heaves, trying to keep up with your words. But everything you say other than “sweet boy,” seems to tuned out. Everything feels blurry, expect for you face, and your sickenly sweet tone. “D-Don't understand. Please!”
“Okay, shhh, it's alright. I want you to cum for me. Can you cum for Mommy, Satoru? That's all I want you to do.” An easy command, one he can definitely fulfill. He can do that – he can definitely cum for you. Gojo feels his chest bloom with butterflies at the idea of what you'll say to him once he follows your wishes. How much praise he will receive. How good and useful he is being. It makes him shiver with excitement.
Your hand picks up speed when he nods, and he gasps, gripping onto your arms from the suddenness. His hips buck upward into the makeshift hole, and you coo at him, telling him to relax his hips. He abides without question, melting into the sheets, and you give him a kiss for a reward. 
He feels himself begin to teeter along his high, and he glances up at you, eyes wide and slightly panicked. He needs to ask for approval, he has to ask to cum, the rules were basically engrained in him, but everything is spinning, and he's beginning to feel overwhelmed by the intensity of the pressure. He feels his voice go dry, and tears begin to pool in his eyes at the prospect of disappointing you.
You take notice of his fearful face immediately, quickly leaning over to cup his face. “You can cum. Relax, hey, its alright, I want you to cum.”
He breathes a shaky sign of relief, and you wipe his tears away, thinking back to earlier of how you wiped his tears away from the ruthless pleasure/pain mix, and now simply because he was afraid that he wasn't able to ask permission before cumming. You would be lying if the power didnt get to your head.
You thoughts are cut off when Gojos entire body jerks, and a muffled, “Fuck!” is let out. His orgasm hits him like a truck, and he trembles, riding the waves. His voice is too scratchy to let out any real noise, so he just silently cries into your chest. Cum dribbles down his cock pathetically, obviously spent, and not having much left to give. You don't seem to notice it though, instead focusing on your lover, and trying to make his orgasm as pleasurable as possible.
When he comes down from it, his legs are shaking, and his eyes are hooded with exhaustion. “P-Plea–Coconut,” He weakly gets out, and you hands fly off his body in seconds from hearing the safety word. You pull away, hoping to not overwhelm him, but instead he clings to you. “Don’t go. Don’t go. Mommy, I can't. J-Just–I…Praise!” He splutters, coherent thoughts flying out of his head, as he slumps into the bed.
You nod, staying away from his cock, and instead placing his head into your lap. His body curls around you in seconds, still slightly trembling. “Did so well. Good boy Satoru. My good boy, I am so spoiled. So lucky to have you." You coo, reaching your hand up to run it through his matted hair. "Took everything so well. I'm so proud of you." A small smile pulls at his face, and everything feels so warm "I love you so much, you know that?”
“Hm,” He hums, nodding his head slightly.
You smile at him. “My perfect boy. It's time to go to sleep, I'll take care of everything. Just rest for me, that's all I need you to do.”
But he didn't even hear the last of your statements, already passed out onto you, his chest rising and falling from his heavy breathes.
You sigh, and stare affectionately at the man. His naked body littered in marks, and he still managed to sleep contently with them. His body was drained of everything. Just like he asked you to do so hours prior.
Your hands roam the nightstand, grabbing healing cream, bandages, and a wash cloth. And with one last sigh, you place Gojo's head onto the pillow, and begin the long process of cleaning him up.
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PREV POST | MASTERLIST | NEXT POST
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4K notes · View notes
hxney-lemcn · 8 days
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I Love You~ — NRC Students x gn! reader
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summary: How Twisted Wonderland boys react to you saying "I love you."
tw: stalking (Rook), slight angst for some, mainly fluff.
a/n: this is the most I've written for for so many characters. I hope I did them well, I even wrote for characters I'm not confident in. Also, I swear they don't all just say I love you too back, Heartslabyul boys are just too sweet not not (for the most part).
wc: 4.5k (~200 each character)
Master List
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Your feelings had been building up over time. It got to the point that it felt like all your feelings were bubbling over. It was only sooner or later that the depth of your love was going to spill. You only hoped that it wouldn’t scare him away.
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Riddle Rosehearts
It wasn’t the first time you said those damn words that sent his heart into cardiac arrest. ‘Love you,’ You would chime playfully as he seemed near to scolding you for something or another. He hated to admit how effective those words were on him, it didn’t help how you said it so casually. Yet this time was different, your tone being nothing but soft, your eyes nothing but warm…he wasn’t prepared for this. Avoiding your loving gaze, Riddle could feel his brain melt, his tongue felt like lead, and his heart was beating erratically. When your gaze turned worried, shying away the longer he stayed silent, he somehow gathered the courage to respond.
“I-I love you too.”
Trey Clover
It was no secret how much you both cared for each other. You both seemed like a married couple to the other students. You never really needed to say anything out loud because your love was shown through actions, the way you both smiled at each other, and how the other was always on the mind. Yet hearing you say those words out loud shocked him. What shocked him even more was how much he longed to hear you say it again, and again, and again. It didn’t take long for him to regain his composure, smile brightening as he didn’t even hesitate to respond.
“I love you too~”
Cater Diamond
He always hid behind a smile and a flash of his camera. People would say his care for you only ran skin deep, but you knew otherwise. You had managed to wiggle your way through Cater’s walls and that scared him, but it also brought a sense of relief. His compliments towards you were genuine, showing you just how much his fans loved you (an extension of his own love). He’d always say he loved you playfully, sending a wink your way making you nearly combust…and you’d respond in kind (unknowingly doing the same to him). So when you said those three simple words, your tired eyes fluttering shut as you snuggled into his blankets, he felt like he was going to puke. He felt like a complete coward that he could only reply back after you had fallen asleep, vowing to show you just how much he cared the next day.
“I love you more than you know.”
Deuce Spades
We all know that Deuce isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, yet you found that endearing. The way he showed his care for you was so obvious it was hard to ignore. How he clearly favored you over Ace, sending threatening glares to any student who dares to look at you the wrong way. You had never felt safer than when you were with Deuce, so you’d try to reciprocate…yet he always seemed to outshine you in your made up care competition. Yet you quickly found his weakness after he shied away after you hugged him once. So when he did something so endearingly silly, it was only natural for those three words to slip…rip Deuce. He stammered, face blazing red as he tried to wrap around what you said, trying to untangle any hidden meanings. Bashfully, he couldn’t meet your eyes as he responded.
“I…love you too.”
Ace Trappola
This menace. He flexes all the time, claiming how you must love him with the way you follow him like a puppy. Yeah…he makes it hard sometimes. So out of spite you’d go to Deuce, causing Ace to sulk. It was in those moments that you realized he was lowkey (highkey) projecting his feelings onto you. It helped you deal with his unabashed praise for himself. You found yourself teasing Ace back, poking him and irritating him (he did find it annoying but he’d rather your attention be on him then anyone else). He’d show off during his games, always looking towards you and making him a clumsy mess on the court. When you finally muttered how you felt (somewhat bitterly) Ace felt his brain shut down for a second before quickly rebooting, a shaky smirk on his face with bright red cheeks as he replied. 
“Of course you do! Who wouldn’t- OW! Okay, okay, I l-like you too I guess.”
(bro couldn’t even say love you back 💀)
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Leona Kingscholar
To anyone who didn’t know him, they’d think he was indifferent to you, if not annoyed by you. Yet to your and Ruggie’s keen eyes it was easy to see his affection for you crack through his impervious exterior. How he’d drag you with him for his constant naps, how he’d let you play with his hair, and how he’d glare at anyone who seemed to get a little too friendly with you. Leona didn’t like being vulnerable, after all, showing your belly meant submission and death. So when you said those three words he’d dreamt of you saying, how lovingly you were staring at him as you fiddled with one of his braids, he felt his scowl worsen at the fluttery feeling in his chest. His green eyes glanced away, his face softening back into a neutral expression.
“I better be the only one you say that to, herbivore.”
Ruggie Bucchi
He’s another one that people can’t tell if he likes you or is using you. Whenever you were seen with him you were helping him with chores (in reality you only helped him so you both could relax together afterwards). It was clear how much you cared for him, bringing him snacks, helping him with chores, offering to pay for his meals (rip your already bare wallet). In return, he’d share with you. A feat that no one had ever seen him do before. Ruggie never felt guilty for taking/getting food…that was until you never seemed annoyed by how much he took from you. So he felt it was only fair if you had some too…you did pay for it after all. He found his tail wagging when you smiled at him, hugging him, or even when you ruffled his hair. So when you said that! Those words he never expected to be uttered from your lips, let alone aimed at him, his tail just couldn’t stop moving! No matter how composed he seemed, it was like his brain was on fire (insert that spongebob clip).
“Shishishi, I suppose I might feel the same…the price for that information is the other half of your donut. Shishi.”
Jack Howl
This guy. Definition of tsundere. Acts like he wants nothing to do with you while sticking by your side for as long as he can. The nice thing is that he helps you become more healthy. He never forces you, but you feel more inclined to join him in his ‘morning’ jogs (his morning jog is way too early for you so it's technically his second jog of the day and he calls it his wind down jog). Everyone can tell how he feels for you, it's clear in the way his eyes are always searching for your comfort, how he steps in when someone gets too pushy, or when his tail sways when all your attention is on him. Another guy you feel super safe with. The two of you were studying when you said it, atmosphere warm. Jack’s ear twitched, unsure if he heard you correctly, eyes searching yours for confirmation. When you gave no indication that you were joking or being silly, it felt like his heart flipped.
“I…care about you…as well.”
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Azul Ashengrotto
He is sneakily unseaky about his feelings. One moment he’s treating you like an actual valued guest with no hidden intentions (😒) and the next he’s lowkey (highkey) flexing on you. Mixed signals because you aren’t sure if he’s trying to make you feel bad about yourself or if he’s trying to make himself look better to you. “Oh don’t worry, this won’t put a dent in my pockets,” He’d say with a smug smirk (you’re lowkey side-eyeing him). One time you poked him to see how’d he react and it was super amusing. Ran away with the brightest blush you’d ever seen claiming he had work to do…yeah…right. When you realized he is in fact trying to impress you (and realized it was really fun to tease him with affection), you became more comfortable around him, looking forward to the next time you could visit the Mostro Lounge. It got to the point that Jade would just bring you to the VIP room (if Azul wasn’t busy swindling a poor soul). When you spoke those words it came out of seemingly nowhere, Azul spilling ink all over a contract he just finished writing. He was so close to darting out of the room, face ablaze, hands trembling. Do you know just how powerful those words are? 
“P-perhaps…d-do you…I-I think…” (You broke him, don’t worry he just needs time to collect himself. He loves you too 💖)
Jade Leech
Rip. It kinda takes a lot to catch his eye (do you even want that?). He found it amusing how kind you were, you wouldn’t make it for a second in the deep (k…). Yet what really caught his eye was that you were a green thumb. How you recognized one of his mushrooms and the gleam in your eyes as you stated all you knew about it (not much, but more than anyone else he’s met). Now you have a scary eel that pops up every now and then. Jade only cared about mushrooms, but now on his hikes he’d spot a plant you liked (every now and then bringing it back for you). Downside, you now had Floyd’s attention as well. I mean c’mon, his brother finding interest in someone? He just had to check the guppy out…thankfully Jade stopped him from squeezing you (a true testament of his care for you). The words spilled out of you when Jade had offered to…’help’...with a certain…’problem’ of yours (an annoying student who wouldn’t leave you alone). A look of pure shock washed over his face before it quickly turned into a cunning grin, something that sent the hairs on your arms to raise. 
“My my, what a bold statement. Please, treat me gently would you?~” (He did not forget about your ‘problem’)
Floyd Leech
Rip #2. You know he cares (sometimes) when he stops calling you guppy (sometimes he does it just to annoy someone cough Riddle cough). Your case was a mix of both. One time when Floyd wouldn’t stop poking your cheeks you poked his nose with a ‘boop’, and he had deemed you boops. Also wouldn’t stop booping you back after that. He is not ashamed at all. He’d squeeze you, drape over you, pick you up, poke you, nearly kill you. The usual. You always would pretend to be annoyed (although sometimes that annoyance was very real) and Floyd always found your reactions hilarious. Although he had his bad moods, 6/10 times he’d feel better when you booped him. Jade would tease him, Azul would ask you over to the Mostro Lounge more often, even Riddle would avoid you (because where you were Floyd had to be nearby). When he was in a bad mood and you booped him while saying “I love you~”, Floyd froze. Sharp eyes watching your every move like the predator he is, a wide grin revealing his sharp teeth. 
“Awwww, I love ya too Boops! Now lemme squeeze ya!” 
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Kalim Al-Asim
Where do I even start? He’s loving on you the moment he sees you. Hugs, cheek kisses, hand holding, it's all normal to him. He cares about you so why wouldn’t he show you? Poor Jamil, he was really stressed at first, unsure what your intentions were. So to start, you had to prove yourself to Jamil, Kalim had accepted you the moment his eyes landed on you. The more you hung out, the clearer your affection for Kalim shined, and you two were basically a married couple at this point. It was easy to care for him, reciprocating his affection without hesitation. Idk there's not much to say about him, he’s just a loving and carefree guy. It was when you both were winding down, hanging out with just the other, doing some homework (one of the ways you proved yourself to Jamil). Your dreary eyes watched as Kalim swayed in place, his eyes soon meeting yours. His beaming smile had all your defenses down, words falling out without you realizing it. It wasn’t until Kalim jumped at you, squeezing you tightly, face nuzzling into your neck.
“I love you too! We should get married!”
(😅)
Jamil Viper
It’s admirable that you managed to break down Jamil’s walls. He was even more surprised at how your attention would always seem to land on him instead of his insufferable prince. No matter how much Kalim basically begged for your attention, your eyes would always drift to Jamil, a warm smile on your lips when your eyes met. He showed his affection for you in how he looked after you. He had grown up taking care of someone, and although he found himself hating Kalim for his position, for Jamil’s spot in the world, he found himself enjoying caring for you. He loved how your eyes lit up when he offered you lunch, he had made too much anyways (riggggghhhht…), he felt his heart flip when you offered to help clean up or when you offered to help braid his hair. It was still hard for him to wrap his head around the fact that you truly cared for him and had no ulterior motives. His heart beat erratically when you said those words, when you looked only at him so lovingly, how your hand caressed his cheek so tenderly. It was all so overwhelming and he pulled away, pulling his hood up to hide his blush. His tongue felt heavy and he wasn’t sure if he had the heart to let himself be so vulnerable.
“Let’s continue this later…but rest assured I feel a similar way.”
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Vil Schoenheit
Ohhh boy. Vil, as much as I love him, might be a bit overbearing at first. If anything, you’d feel ashamed about yourself at first. You never seemed to be good enough as Vil would always find something to pick apart about you. You’d eat too many carbs, your uniform was wrinkly, your eyebags seemed to be more pronounced. When you snapped, crying and pleading for him to just stop, that you knew you weren’t beautiful or perfect like him and you didn’t want to hear it anymore, Vil had to rethink how he showed his care. He didn’t say those things because he thought you were ugly or terrible, he only wanted you to better yourself. To become more healthy and to take better care of yourself. Reflecting, he realized just how mean he seemed…enter the spoiling. Instead of nit picking you, he would give you stuff without a word. You found yourself with skin care products made by him (he didn’t want to taint your skin with bad ingredients), he would bring you a balanced lunch (perhaps breakfast and dinner too, if you’d be kind enough to join him), and he’d gift you outfits that complemented your figure perfectly (sometimes he’d have to get them costume made). It was a bit of a shock at the drastic change, but you found yourself doting on him more as well. You both were having dinner together, Vil complaining about his coworkers and you talking about whatever you were into at the moment. When he mentioned something he’d think you’d like you found yourself sweetly telling him you loved him. He was astounded, eyes locked on yours. As much as he tried to be composed, he couldn’t deny the fluttering of his heart or the heat on his cheeks. 
“I love you as well, my sweet potato.”
Rook Hunt
This man 💀. At first you were terrified. Man was literally stalking you. You even went to the professors for help because excuse me? Stalking bad. And as much as Rook took amusement in your actions, he decided to finally get to know you…face to face (he already knew a ton about you). You gave him bombastic side eye when he first was trying to talk to you. He’d pop out of bushes (strangely no leaves stuck in his hair), he’d appear right behind you…one time he seemed to appear from literally nowhere. Against your own will, you warmed up to the freak. When he wasn’t continuously complimenting you, you found him to be funny. Rook is also unashamed about his love for you, he’d shout it from the roof tops if you asked. He also took the fact that you were warm to him as a sign of affection. You didn’t nearly deck him for popping out of the bushes this time? Oh mon chéri, his heart melts that you felt his presence to be so comforting. It felt weird, Rook had complimented you many times, spouting about how much his heart yearns for you. You almost didn’t want to tell him that you loved him, a bit spiteful since you knew how smug he’d look afterwards (you’d never live it down either). Yet when Rook handed you a rose, spieling about how it could never compare to you, you found yourself crumbling. Instead of that smug look you expected, he looked genuinely happy. Green eyes bright and shining, smile so wide you thought it split. Yet that gleam soon looked like that of a predator who finally caught his prey. 
“Mon chéri, my heart weeps with joy, I cannot imagine a world without your brilliance shining. Avoir son cœur est la plus grande récompense.”
Epel Felmier
Epel is a tough nut even if he looks cute. He’d tease you mercilessly (Ace moment) on some days, while most he found himself complaining to you. Vil would work him tirelessly, and he can handle tough work! You’d sneak him candy or some jerky (that was more manly than candy). He found himself always trying to impress you, whether it be carrying something heavy or showing you his grades (he improved from last time okay). He loved how you complimented his strength or his intelligence, but deep down he was scared you saw him as a cute prim boy that Vil was trying to turn him into. If anyone tried anything with you he’s the one you’d go to, making his chest puff in confidence. Of course he’s trying to not fight so Vil won’t punish him, but a stern talking too wasn’t out of the picture. You both were relaxing under a tree. You mindlessly watched Epel as he carved an apple, handing you pieces when they were cut perfectly. Another one who can’t handle it when you say it. Eyes wide, shoulders hunched, face matching the apple he was holding. 
“Ya c-can’t jus’ s-say that! Y-you tryna k-kill me? ‘Tch, you’re lucky I like ya too.”
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Idia Shroud
He’s such a simp. Some days he can barely squeak out a word to you, hiding himself in the comfort of his hoodie, others he’s flexing on you about just how much more he knows about a game than you. When he’s feeling extra generous (trying to get y’alls intimacy meter up to max) he’ll buy you the fancy currency in your favorite gacha game, go on, do as many ten pulls as it takes to get your favorite character up to max level. His favorite moments are when you both are watching an anime together, in the same bed…it makes his heart explode just thinking about it (dudes on the opposite side of the bed 💀). What makes him care for you even more is how you interact with Ortho. You two are his favorite people and seeing how well you both get along just further warms his heart. When you muttered those words to him, he literally screamed. Hoodie up, hiding under his blankets, his hair the brightest pink it’s ever been. He felt light headed and he was sure if he opened his eyes his vision would be spotty.
“G-gah! Your charm is maxed out! It’s n-not fair that you had the special dialogue to insta kill me.”
Ortho Shroud (platonic only obvs)
He is just a little ray of sunshine. He’s the reason why you got so close to Idia in the first place. He’s always on the hunt for any potential friends for him and his brother. You were always sweet to him, doting on him and calling him cute. Ortho honestly thought of you as another sibling (might as well be with how much you hype him up). Ortho would always try to accompany you if he had time, always ‘hinting’ at you to visit his brother (bro is not hinting, straight up just asking). He felt his cpu warm as he processed his happy feelings at watching you and his brother get along, as well as when you always brought Ortho over to join you both. It didn’t take long for you to tell Ortho you loved him, I mean he was just so adorable!
“I’m so happy! I love you too!”
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Malleus Draconia
I hope you're ready to become a royal beside him. He shows he cares with grand gestures (which Lila helps make them smaller gestures). Malleus is used to people fearing him, and the fact that you didn’t? Man was gobsmacked. He shared his interests with you, and you shared yours with him. He would research anything you said that he didn’t understand (it was even better if you were the one teaching him). If you thought your affection was spilling over, Malleus’ was flooding. It turned into him giving you fine jewelry, clothing, flowers, food, you want it, it's yours. He cared for you greatly, and he was unsure how else to show his affection. You gave him a hug? He’d hug you now as a greeting. One time you booped his nose and he went cross eyed following your finger. You’d almost spilled your guts then (I’m surprised you didn’t cus that shit’s adorable). You always confused him with your cute forms of affection, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. It seemed impossible for you to keep in your love any longer on a bright, moonlit night. As you stared into the night sky, you spilled those three little words that unknowingly sealed your fate. Malleus felt his heart be set aflame, eyes taking you in. It was then that he finally thought of a perfect ring for you. 
“I love you as well, child of man. More than you could ever imagine.”
Lilia Vanrouge
As silly and carefree as he was, Lilia wasn’t ready to love again. He had his family, and that was all he cared for. So when he found himself messing with you more, missing when you weren’t around, wanting to cook for you (rip #3), he felt scared. Love never went well for him, it was almost like he was cursed, and those he cared for were ripped away from him. Yet you were so sweet, trying his food and trying to give him pointers on how he could improve. The cute scared face you made when he popped out of nowhere. Gosh you made it so easy to love, it was honestly unfair. He was supposed to be the cute one! You can’t go stealing his title! You also found it a struggle to love Lilia. You knew he was older than time itself (💀), and honestly you felt a bit weird for falling for him. I mean, you were so much younger, and he was a fae. It just seemed like a lot, so you kept your feelings to yourself. That was until one night, Lilia was tucking you in since you fell asleep on him, and you muttered those cursed words as you drifted off. He actually avoided you for a few weeks after that, and you felt embarrassed that you slipped. It wasn’t until he could no longer avoid you, missing you too much and having thought it through enough.
“I hope you understand the weight of your words, after all, us fae stay with our partner for life.”
Silver Vanrouge
He is so easy to get along with. He’s always looking out for you, offering you snacks when you're hungry and handing you water when you haven’t drank any yet. While he does find himself dozing off a lot, he appreciates when you try to poke him awake or go over the material he slept through. No one even questions your status, they just assume you're together with how lovey dovey you both act. He’s fallen asleep on your shoulder more times than he can count, his soft hair tickling your neck. He’d apologize when waking up, but you were too entranced by not only his beauty but the cute animals that now surrounded you both. Not to mention the way your heart would pitter patter as he would promise to defend you, his shining eyes showing complete seriousness. You had whispered your love for him when he was sleeping, gently playing with his hair. You thought he wouldn’t hear, but boy were you wrong. His soft eyes blinked open sleepily, a small smile tugging at his lips.
“Am I dreaming? I hope I’m not, because I love you too.”
Sebek Zigvolt
Another tsundere ass. He gets overwhelmed by his feelings for you so often I’m surprised your eardrums aren’t permanently damaged from his constant yelling. It was confusing for him because the only other person he felt a somewhat similar feeling towards was Malleus Draconia, and you were nowhere near the level of the future king of Briar Valley. He’d take his strange feelings out on you, inadvertently pushing you away. Thank the sevens for Lilia (or not) because the bat fae would always have something to say about Sebek when he’d see you. “Have you heard of how brave Sebek was?” “Have you seen how cute he is when his face turns red?” Thankfully, Sebek got used to the pitter patter he felt when you smiled at him, no longer scolding you for…smiling? Another one that you learn tends to project. He’s degrading you for being human? Well he’s half human too, so he probably feels the same about himself more than you. Which causes you to try and compliment him more…which leads to him shouting, cycle repeats. I hope you brought ear plugs, cus the moment you spilled your guts, the soft atmosphere turned harsh. His face lit up red as his shoulders rose to his ears, be prepared for a flustered, shouting croc.
“C-cease your tempting words human! I-I only have eyes for Waka-sama! I have no time for foolish endeavors that will ruin my position! W-wait, don’t l-leave! I n-never said I didn’t f-feel the s-same!”
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thefallofruins · 20 days
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𝐄𝐍𝐕𝐘 [𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚]
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Tw: Smut, sukuna is a meanie, possessiveness, unprotected sex, toxicity?, riding, Sukuna is just Sukuna, which means he has a big D
Synopsis: Sukuna calls for another concubine instead of you, causing jealousy to brew in your heart (and it turns him on)
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Sukuna loves when you get possessive over him. Everyone knows you’re his sole favourite, that you’re his most favored— the appearance of whom after Sukuna forgot about his entire harem.
“Mmh…” you whimper, struggling to take all of him as you lower yourself down onto his cock. You’re so cute like this, trying to please him with all you have, “S-So big…”
He has a stupid smile plastered on his face, everything about the situation was so amusing to him, your desperation to please him for you feared how he’d replace you after the stunt he pulled today, how adorable you looked trying to fit all of him into your tight little hole.
He was so right in his decision to call another concubine to his chambers today. Not that he required that, but simply to toy with his favourite one. To see your face fall as you— who is obvious to get chosen to attend to him every single night, lost all confidence at the act.
“H-Hate you!” You whine, taking him all in to the base, the way your tight walls clamp so desperately around him making him groan softly. Though your words amused him to no ends, reminding him of why exactly you were his favourite.
“That so?” He chuckles, arms guiding you by your hips as you slowly try to bounce on his cock. He felt so much bigger than when he has you under him, “Doesn’t seem like it….”
You try to begin your movements, as stretched out as you are, you’re still mad at him, something the other concubines can never have the liberty of.
“W-Why did you do that?” You lower yourself on him again, gasping as you notice the visible bulge on your belly as he’s all inside you, “D-Do I not please you a-adequately?”
Your movements are still slow, riding his length slowly as you try to adjust to his size. At the same time, you also want to wipe that stupid grin off his face.
“Hmm…that you do, pet.” He guides you down onto him once more, your slick coating his cock, producing lewd noises as he guides you in your actions, “Look at you now— trying so hard, aren’t you?”
You huff, “And yet you called for her!” you look so hot like this, scolding him while losing your mind on his cock, so adorably flushed with anger but still eager to please your lord.
“I did.” He grins again, slamming you down onto his cock, “She did the job well, I must say.”
Disappointment courses through you, and anger. His actions today had left you shattered, and he is so smug about it!
“Did y-you fuck her?” Your actions grow rapid, bouncing up and down on his cock, controlling the moans and whimpers that threaten to leave your lips.
Sukuna had you exactly where he wanted. Jealous, broken little thing trying his best to please him, but like he’d fuck someone else after having a taste of you. He barely even looked at the overjoyed woman who walked into his chambers, all he thought of was what must’ve been going on in your stupid brain.
“What do you think?” He responds smugly, two sets of his hands reaching below your tits, watching how beautifully they bounce with your movements, “Do you really think I’d have required your presence if she did the job?”
That is a relief, at most. You try your best to speed up things, making him growl softly, “G-Good…” you manage to respond between low and broken moans, leaning down towards his face as you work your magic. “You’re mine.”
The declaration causes him to smile even more, two of his hands resting on your ass, “hmm, is that so?” He chuckles, taking in a sharp breath as you clench around him, “I’m yours?”
He feels so good, so deep inside you that you’re almost dizzy, his tip brushing perfectly against your spot, feeling absolutely stretched— you aren’t sure about what you’re even saying!
“M-Mine…” you moan against his lips as he slams you down onto his cock once again, “P-Please say it…”
You’re so cute when you’re begging, fucked out of your mind. He cannot help but capture your lips with his, tongues brushing against yours in a moment of passion, groaning softly at the sensation of your gummy walls clench around his length.
“S-Shit, woman…” he groans. Every time he fucks you he’s reminded of why exactly his other concubines are so neglected, “You’re like no other…”
Your slick coats his cock, embarrassingly so to produce lewd noises. His words give you the satisfaction you craved, “S-Sukuna–ah..!”
“Nasty girl,” he growls, the grip on your hips strengthening as he’s practically using you like a toy, using his strength to bounce you on his cock. Your face is buried in his neck, he can feel your warm breaths on his skin and hear all the sounds of pleasure you produce as your walls keep tightening around him.
No one, absolutely no one can give him this level of satisfaction that you do.
“Y-You wanted to hear it, huh?” He growls into your ears, pulling your hair as a leverage to reveal your face to him. You are on the verge of tears from how good it all feels, from knowing that know one can please him like you do.
“Listen then,” he senses you’re close, the sounds of squelching filling the room, your tits rubbing against his chest with every movement, “I-I’m all damn yours.”
His words make your pussy throb, capturing you into another kiss, coming closer to finishing.
“H-Hnghh…” you moan out loud, “k-kuna, m’ coming…ngh!”
“Do it then.” He commands, taking great pride as your face contorts in pleasure and with a loud moan of his name, you release all over him, drenching his cock in your juices. A few movements in, he soon follows, filling you so full of his thick cum.
His cock remains inside you as your mixed juices flow down his cock and you look at him with a slight frown, panting slightly, “N-Never do anything like that again.”
He chuckles, patting your head. “Duly noted,” he was definitely still hard from how damn adorable you were being.
“Now get off,” he removes you off him, laying you down next to him. You thought he was done, but were quick to understand that wasn’t the case when he positioned himself on top of you, two of his hands spreading your legs.
“I’m not done yet.”
But could you blame him? You were so hot when possessive.
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falling-star-cygnus · 18 days
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i couldn’t resist the pull of a new indie animated cartoon, life is hard and i am but a weak soul
✨Ramshackle✨ by Zeddyzi -> why it’s amazing and why you should watch it :D
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she’s a mood fr
No.1: Vinnie is usually the first to panic
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while none of trio are 'in charge' -nor should they be- Vinnie does take the lead more often than Skipp or Stone do {these two also tend to look at her before taking action, which is actually adorable} so it's pretty cool to see she's not oblivious to dangerous situations like her archetype tends to lean into -> also Stone's totally contemplating breaking the window to get away from the pageant zombies
No.2: Stone is super protective, despite acting like he's not
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but he does it in a way that doesn’t come across as thinking the other two are incapable, it’s more like: you totally could’ve dealt with that, but im right here so you don’t have to
No.3: Skipp isn’t helpless, nor is he treated as such
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this is really awesome bc trios typically have that one character that’s really bright and bubbly but that’s also often infantilised by both their peers and the fandom -> Vinnie and Stone are totally confident in his feral capabilities though, and apart from briefly scolding him when it was necessary- they don’t treat Skipp like a child {which is an extremely refreshing change of pace}
No.4: ✨FOUND FAMILY✨
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you got the black cat, doberman, and orange cat all in one with these silly guys! + stone's small smile when they fist bump, my heart!
No.5: The black cat is a softie
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surprising absolutely no one, Stone has a hard time saying no to his family. that's not to say he can't express a boundary, like how he feels about physical touch, but he does let Vinnie and Skipp cling to him for brief intervals -> he also is already accepting that Maggot's going to be a fixture from as soon as the other two are leaving the alley way
all in all, this pilot does a mind-blowing job of portraying archetypes in a new and refreshing way that doesn't feel forced -> the animation style is beautiful, the characters are multifaceted and complex and it walks the line between silly and badass perfectly
definitely go watch the pilot on youtube!
and if you enjoyed this, let me know if there are other things you want me to analyze or give my thoughts on :D
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toy-dragon · 1 year
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Been having some lingering grief for a character i played for a few years perming this past game and honestly i think part of it is because i always looked forward to being him, either over voice or through text or in person. I will have to draw him with a proper send off
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halfvalid · 8 months
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through the night
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ABOUT
| 18+ | smut | explicit |
characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader
pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader
word count: 4.2k
description: zoro comes to the reader's room during the night. sex ensues.
tags: smut, female reader, oral (receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, kissing (a lot of it), soft zoro, first time together, confessions (kinda), fluff, no use of "y/n", banter, pwp (lowkey).
author's note: consent is sexy and so is zoro
i have up to now only watched 2 episodes of OPLA and have never consumed any other type of one piece media. expect him to be ooc. also it's my first smut fic help
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It was nighttime on the Going Merry, and the dull kiss of the setting horizon drifted lazily through the single window in your room. You were lying on your bed, leaning against the headboard as you flipped through a book you’d picked up the last time the ship had been docked. It wasn’t too interesting, but it was something to pass the time with, so you stifled a yawn and flipped to the next page.
There was a knock at your door, and you glanced up, watching as the shoddy metal hinges slowly creaked open. Zoro was standing in the doorway, his broad frame blocking out nearly all the light coming in from the hall. He was still dressed in his daywear, which reminded you that you needed to change—the loose shirt and trousers you wore were, although clean, nothing near sleepwear.
“Zoro?” you asked, watching as he started into the room. You clicked your tongue before he could step another foot inside, though— “If you’re going to come in, take your shoes off.”
Zoro scoffed but obeyed, pausing by the mouth of the room to slide his heavy boots off. He tread lightly to where you lay, climbing up to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. “What’s up?”
“Can’t sleep,” Zoro answered. You moved aside to allow him some more room, centering yourself on the bed. Zoro didn’t move, though.
You raised your eyebrows. “That’s possible?”
He looked unimpressed, propping his arms under his head and leaning back so his head was splayed against your thighs. His three matching earrings glinted in the light. “Luffy and Nami are being loud. Your room’s the farthest away.”
“Your elbow is digging into my gut,” you said, turning back towards your book. Zoro rolled his eyes, but readjusted his position, pulling his arms down to instead lay folded atop his stomach. “Are you just going to nap there?”
Zoro shrugged, and you had to stifle a giggle, the sensation vaguely ticklish. He’d never been a man of many words, so you lowered your book again and went back to reading. The light in the room was dim, though; after a few minutes, the glow from the light at your bedside no longer sufficed, and you were too tired to strain your eyes to squint at the page. You could, of course, just turn on the cabin lights—but Zoro was asleep by now, and you hadn’t even liked the book that much anyway.
You set it on your nightstand, gazing down at the slumbering man in your lap. Despite the glare he so often sported, Zoro looked near-angelic in his sleep, his face all smooth planes and straight lines. Those dark eyes of his were hidden like this, black lashes splayed across his cheeks as shadows emphasized the hollows of his bone structure.
He really was beautiful, an ever-comforting presence within the Straw Hats that your eyes had always strayed to. There was a certain kind of fondness you held for him that none of the other crew members could quite compare to, although if you voiced those thoughts Luffy would probably end up giving you a lighthearted scolding. You could already imagine the teasing from the other members of the crew—Usopp and Sanji particularly—making fun of your little crush, which is why you kept your lips firmly sealed. A secret was a secret, and this was yours to keep.
You finally tore your eyes away, focusing instead on getting out of the position you’d gotten stuck in. Somewhere in the back of your mind you liked the idea of Zoro sleeping in your lap, but the clothes you wore were getting increasingly uncomfortable. You carefully slipped out from under him, cradling his head so as to support him as you gently lowered him to the mattress. Thankfully, he didn’t rouse, and you slipped to the other side of the room to open up your wardrobe, satisfied knowing you weren’t disturbing him.
You made deft work, first brushing through your hair and rinsing your face with some clean water before focusing your attention on changing your clothes. You removed your trousers, instead donning a pair of shorts. You were halfway through peeling off your blouse to replace it with a softer, silk one, when Zoro coughed from behind you.
You froze, daring to glance behind you whilst still topless. Zoro had awoken, eyes having lost all trace of sleep as he slowly sat up, staring at your figure across the room. He coughed again as soon as your eyes met, dropping his gaze. “Sorry,” he said very carefully, voice hoarse and grating.
“No, it’s okay,” you managed out, but you were still frozen. Your thoughts were on the dark look that’d been in his eyes the split-second before he’d looked away—surprised but sharp, cutting like just his gaze could pierce through your soul. Gooseflesh had prickled up along your arms.
“I’ll just… go,” Zoro muttered, already having gotten up as he started shuffling towards the door. You jolted into action, nearly dropping the shirt still in your hands as you turned towards him.
“No, you can—” your words softened, seeing his gaze flicker rapidly around your figure before finally landing on some spot by your cheek. “You can stay.” You paused, hoping your words weren’t too direct. “If you want.”
“You should put your shirt on,” Zoro said, almost choking on his words, like they were too big to fit in his mouth.
Your gaze dropped down before a steady blush started climbing up the sides of your face. “Right,” you started, but it was like you’d lost control of your hands. The shirt still hung limply from your grip.
“Or you could…” Zoro paused, lips parted as he sucked in a soft breath. Carefully, he moved back towards your bed, the only sound in the room a soft thump as he sat back on it. “Not.”
You swallowed. You could barely feel the lax of grip as your fingers released the shirt, letting it fall to the floor in one pathetic heap. You took a tentative step towards Zoro, and then another, until you were right in front of him. The soft night breeze through the window caused chills to erupt down your spine. Or maybe that was Zoro’s expression—nearly studious in his attentivity, eyes grazing across your chest and torso like he was taking in information for a new, particularly high-paying bounty.
“Zoro,” you started. He finally glanced up at your face, and you shuddered, biting down hard on your tongue. “I, um—hi.”
“Hey,” he said carefully, like he was testing the word on his tongue. Your gaze flickered down to his lips. He seemed to notice, but he didn’t say anything; rather, he raised one of his hands, pressing it against your side until his fingers tightened against your waist, a present, ever-pulsing rush of warmth. “I think my chest is bigger than yours.”
You flushed, a quick rush of crimson gracing your cheeks as you turned away. Zoro’s grip on your waist tightened, and a low laugh escaped the bottom of his throat. “That was mean,” you whined. Zoro’s other hand came up to your face, fingers pressing against the underside of your chin. He carefully angled your face down, so you couldn’t look anywhere but straight at him.
“It worked to calm you down, though,” he said easily. You were about to protest against the fact that you had been calm in the first place, but then Zoro was kissing you.
Zoro was a lot less aggressive than you’d originally expected, but as you sunk deeper into the kiss, it started to make sense. Zoro was all clean lines when he fought, practiced and perfect—no space for sloppy lines or scribbles. The way he kissed was similar; he applied pressure, but not too much pressure, and his thumb traced firm circles into the skin of your waist.
He angled your head with the hand firmly propped against your jaw, so you didn’t have to do a lot of the work—just press against his lips and move against the gentle rhythm he’d set. His teeth scraped carefully against your lower lip, and he tugged, letting a soft gasp out from your throat.
Zoro took the opportunity to pry your lips apart with his tongue, the fingers splayed against your chin coaxing your jaw open until he could slide his tongue against yours. You let out a soft whimper, hands scrambling to his shoulders and running along the muscles of his back. Of course you’d known he was well-built, but the firmness of his body forced another squeak out of you—one he was more than willing to swallow up.
Eventually, Zoro’s hand dropped from your jaw, skimming along your body line before coming to rest on the underside of one of your breasts. You gasped as he started to massage the skin with his thumb, accidentally biting down on his lower lip in the process. He groaned, the sound low as his rhythm sped up, the hand cupping your waist dropping down to your hip.
And then he was hoisting you up and onto his lap. “Oh my God,” you muttered, causing him to break away, eyes glinting with amusement.
“What?”
A heady rush had blossomed along your cheeks again. “Nothing. You.” Somewhere in the back of your head, you wondered how strong Zoro had to be to lift you off the ground so easily with only one arm—granted, it hadn’t been that far of a lift, but still. “Kiss me again.”
Zoro laughed but obeyed, his hand still working at your breast as the other dropped to your thigh. Your fingers interlaced with his short hair, tangling within the moss-green locks as his tongue ran along the ivories of your teeth. His teeth scraped against your lip as he moved away, lips instead following the line of your jaw and moving down to your neck.
You dropped your arm from his hair, hand pressing flat against his upper back. Zoro’s muscles flexed as he chased down your throat, and you sighed as he pressed gentle kisses along the line of your vein.
“Been—wanting to do this for a while,” Zoro panted between kisses, placing a final one kiss at the junction of your collarbone before glancing tentatively back up at you. You met his mouth in another kiss, a smile you hadn’t felt rising bright along your cheekbones.
“Me too,” you whispered, and a look of relief flashed across his face before he was ducking his head again to press more kisses along your neck. You let out a laugh—you could feel the rumble of his lips against the sound as it left your throat. Carefully, you ran your finger along his earrings, soft clinks filling the room at the action. “What was that? Did you think I didn’t?”
“Dunno,” Zoro muttered, and you laughed again before he nipped at your skin, teeth scratching in a gentle bite. At your chest, his hand squeezed your nipple, and you gasped.
“That was mean.”
“Mhm.” Zoro didn’t seem appeased, his kisses turning sloppier—open-mouthed, full of bite. He never pressed down hard enough to hurt, but your mouth was full of soft gasps and whines, and your hand had come down to clench against his bicep. God, his arms. “I don’t hear you complaining.”
You nudged him, meaning only for it to be a slight press. But Zoro let the action guide him, falling onto his back with you pressed against him, flat against the bed. He stilled, both hands dropping to your hips as he gaze lifted to drink you in.
You were certain you were a mess—blushing, lips probably swollen, bruise blossoms that would purple by morning scattered all along your neck. But the way he looked at you made it seem like you were all dolled up—like you were outfitted in a flowing gown, eyes sparkling and hair perfect instead of the mess it most undoubtedly was.
“You’re pretty,” he murmured, almost too quiet to hear. Actually, you were certain you weren’t supposed to hear it, because before you could respond, he was pulling you across him, fluidly rolling you onto your back. His forearm pressed against the mattress beside your head, caging you in. Zoro seemed to like this angle, moving down your neck to your chest with more gentle kisses.
You were content to let him take what he wanted, eyes not moving from his face as you watched his lips brush over your breast. His tongue was hot against your skin, and you sucked in a tight breath as he swirled it along your nipple. Zoro steadied you with a firm grasp, hand pressing against your side before pushing up to attend to the breast that his mouth wasn’t. You squirmed, a soft pool of warmth sitting in your lower belly as he worked. A tight knot had formed somewhere inside, and you let out a breathy gasp.
Zoro’s gaze traced lower, hand leaving your breast in favor of skidding down your figure to rest at the hand of your shorts. He paused, eyes flickering upwards to meet yours. Hastily, you nodded, and his fingers dipped below the cloth, head lowering to press another kiss by your hip bone. Your hands clenched against the bed sheets as his fingers skimmed the rim of your shorts, coaxing them down inch by inch before they finally slid down to your knees. You kicked them off insistently, and Zoro laughed, one hand coming to stroke your thigh as if to make you stop moving.
Even though you’d partly expected it, you hadn’t been ready for the soft kiss he pressed against your inner thigh. His hand hooked around the side of your panties, dragging them down as he kissed up your skin, and you took in a sharp breath that he wholly and entirely ignored. His movements became more insistent as you squirmed, open-mouth and biting, tongue darting out from between his lips to languidly swipe up your thigh. Finally he reached the junction of your thigh and core, mouth pressing a feather-light kiss that dragged an entirely shameful sound out from your throat.
Zoro pushed your panties all the way off your hips, letting them sit by your knees even as you squirmed to kick them off. “Shh,” he murmured, and you stopped, heart pounding as the sound sunk deep into your bloodstream. The tight knot in your lower belly had only grown tighter, and your breath caught in your throat as you watched Zoro, his eyes flickering all around your exposed core.
He ran a finger along the side of your slit, and you shuddered, watching as he experimentally traced it across your folds. He lowered his head to your hips, pressing a kiss onto your clit. You were barely able to suppress the buck of your hips as Zoro’s hand came to rest on your thigh, pinning you down as his other hand worked along your core.
His finger found your vagina, carefully sinking between your folds as his tongue worked languid circles around your clit. You let out a moan, voice stuttering against your throat as his finger slipped deeper inside you. It only took him a few moments to push another one in, the soft scrape of his cut fingernails eliciting sparks that drew another breathy moan out of you.
“Isn’t it a little—unfair that I’m the only one not wearing anything?” you managed out between breaths, and Zoro stopped his motions, head lifting and eyes glancing up at you from under his lashes. One of his eyebrows arched in question, and his lips were glossy with your fluids, causing your core to squeeze around his fingers. Somehow, he didn’t even seem to notice the motion.
“Oh, that’s what you want to focus on right now?” he murmured, all low and throaty. He always spoke low-pitched, vocal chords all brash and grating from the back of his throat, but his voice hummed even deeper now, although that didn’t seem humanly possible. Your muscles clenched again, and Zoro’s gaze dipped down to where his fingers were still pushed inside of you. He fluidly pressed in deeper, fingers curling inside your body before pulling out and working back in. Your retort was lost as you moaned again, the tight feeling of your gut slowly unwinding as he moved back and forth inside of you.
His mouth lowered to lick at your clit again, and you cried out, barely suppressing a scream as his fingers dug, more insistent, inside of you. He pressed one final kiss against your clit, and then sat back, eyes fixed on working at your core instead. His fingers pumped in and out, steady and fluid. Your breaths came out breathy and broken, climbing closer and closer to your climax until he finally reached the summit inside of you.
“Come,” Zoro whispered, the hand not taking care of you running reassuringly along your thigh. You came suddenly, hips stuttering from where’d they’d lifted off the mattress, a cry ripping out of your throat. Zoro slowly slipped his fingers out of you, rubbing soothing circles into your inner thigh as you ran out your climax. Your breaths evened out, becoming less deep, less frantic; Zoro watched all the while, a glossy shine over his eyes and the faintest of smiles pressed along his lips.
You tilted your gaze down to his face, catching him just as he started to move again. The fingers drenched in your fluids came up to his mouth, and he licked them clean. Your stomach dropped, somehow already turning you on despite having come just mere seconds beforehand.
“My turn,” Zoro said softly, sitting up to start unbuttoning his shirt. You hoisted yourself up, hands skimming along the sheets beside him, uncertain of whether he wanted you to touch. You glimpsed a stiff tent in his pants as he sat up, and swallowed hard, eyeing the pull with apprehension.
“Do you want me to—” you tried gesturing down to his hips, but he caught your hand swiftly, pressing it against the buttons of his shirt. “What do you want?”
“Sex,” Zoro said. Nothing else. You held back the choke that dared to escape your throat, and a sheepish grin crossed his face. It was lopsided, nearly a smirk, if not for the genuine warmth glimmering at his eyes. “Sorry. That was vague.”
“It’s okay,” you assured, stifling a laugh. Your hands worked fastidiously at his buttons. It took far longer than you felt it should’ve, fingers all clumsy as you tugged them through their holes, unlooping them from where it fixed the cloth together. Soon enough, though, Zoro was stripping the last of the fabric off, tossing it carelessly across the room before pulling you into another kiss.
He was sloppier now that you’d come, more comfortable in his element—you could taste the tang of yourself on his lips, and you let out a sigh, hands moving down his figure to work at his belt. He had to stop kissing you to tug at his pants, pushing them down his legs before finally kicking them off fully.
You ducked your head to press a kiss at his navel, eyes tracing the length that jutted out from his hips. Your breath caught, gaze fixed to a pale vein running up the line of his length. “Up,” Zoro murmured, and you glanced up. Zoro pressed a long kiss to your mouth, one hand skimming around your butt to pull you up by the headboard. He ran a hand over your core, as if to ascertain you were relaxed enough for him.
“Do you have anything for it?” he murmured, lips sending chills down your back as he pressed a soft kiss at your jaw.
“I’m on the pill, yeah,” you huffed out, arms winding around his torso. Zoro hummed his response, fingers running up and down your thigh as he adjusted, hips sliding against yours to meet your core.
You sucked in a breath, but he was gentle with it, pushing in slowly, hand running along your lower back and coaxing you still. The sensation sparked tingles all over your body; up your spine, along your hips, down your legs like Zoro was electricity himself. You let out a little sigh as he pushed up to his hilt into you, hips stuttering against his as you both paused for breath. He brushed a ghost of a kiss along your lips. “Okay?” Zoro murmured.
“Perfect,” you answered, arms clutching tighter around him, fingers digging into his back. You hoped it wasn’t too sharp, but considering how big Zoro was, it was likely he barely felt the pressure—the crescents of your fingernails were probably just pinpricks to him.
Zoro started moving, then, his actions soft and fluid at first, fingers pressing reassuring circles into your waist and hips. He was nearly tender with it, motions languid and slow, like he had all the time in the world. Your breaths came out easy, soft and just barely edging towards gasps.
He started thrusting with more insistence soon, though; Zoro’s hips bucked against yours, and your grip tightened along his shoulder blades as he pushed in and out of you. Soft gasps and whines left your throat, in stark contrast to the heavy groans and grunts that barely stuttered past Zoro’s lips.
“Like that,” you said, barely able to let out words of encouragement as he hit your sweet spot, buried deep inside of you. You let out a throaty moan as he moved faster and faster, thrusts becoming harder and more aggressive. You knocked your head back, one of your hands reaching to grab Zoro’s from where it propped him up by your head. He welcomed the invitation quickly, fingers interlacing with yours, coaxing your palm open into a kiss of your hands. His thrusts worked harder than ever, and you stopped chasing the friction, letting your hips buck up against his as he shoved into you.
A low groan erupted from his throat as he hit your spot again, mouth coming down to bite into your shoulder as he suppressed the cry that tore from his mouth. You swallowed, gasping hard for breath as you felt him come inside you, your walls clenching tight around him before you also felt the familiar burst of pressure. You let out a gasping moan, mind buzzing with sparks and tingles. Vaguely, you felt Zoro’s hand against your hip, moving up and down in calming strokes.
It took a moment for you both to recover, coming down from the blissful high after long seconds ticked by. Zoro removed his mouth from your shoulder, carefully prying his jaw off from your skin. He scrutinized the marks he’d left—crescents of teeth, undoubtedly—before lowering his head again to press an apologetic kiss to the bite. You laughed in surprise.
“I can be a gentleman,” Zoro protested lightly, though his words didn’t hold much of a fight as he carefully slid out of you. He did it slowly, inch by inch, leaving a hollow sensation in his wake when he eventually parted from you. “You okay?”
“Lovely,” you answered honestly, eyes grazing up his chest before meeting his. “You?”
“I’m good,” Zoro answered, a vague smile on his lips. It was soft, tender; maybe not as big as ones you’d seen when he was laughing with the crew, but special nonetheless. He studied you for a moment, and you took the opportunity to trace his face with your eyes. His pupils were blown, slowly receding back into small dots of shadow, and his lips were kissed red, swollen over and glossy with your saliva. “Want me to draw a bath?”
“No,” you said, content just to watch him like this. “We can clean up in the morning, it’s getting late.” You hesitated, suddenly uncertain, teeth tugging at your lower lip. “Unless… you want to go?”
Zoro snorted. “No, I think I like it here,” he decided. He sat up, reaching to pull the blankets over your figure so the gooseflesh you hadn’t even noticed on your skin would subside. “Too tired to move, anyway. Might stay here forever.”
“Dramatic ass,” you mumbled, wrapping a hand around his wrist and tugging him closer to you. Zoro obeyed, sliding beside you, one arm moving to wrap around your waist. “Go to sleep, you big dummy.”
Zoro’s breath was light against the shell of your ear. “That was unwarranted.”
“Sleep,” you insisted, and Zoro huffed, reaching the arm that wasn’t around you to the nightstand. He flicked the lantern off, then turned back towards you, finally settling down. His lips pressed a soft kiss along your shoulder, and you smiled, your hand reaching down to meet where his was splayed along your belly.
“Good night,” you whispered.
“Night,” he mumbled back, the end of the word tapering off into a soft, tired breath. You could feel his chest move, up and down in a steady, soft rhythm. You buried your head into the crook of his arm, letting out a contented sigh before finally closing your eyes to drift off to sleep.
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finalgirllx · 2 months
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Mattheo's Nurse
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my own take on a favorite trope - healing mattheo after one of his many, many fights. for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge, the prompt i went off of was 'why do you do this for me? are you sure you're not in love with me?'
1.2k words | suggestive content | minors dni | f!reader implied
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Becoming Mattheo Riddle's personal nurse was not part of your grand plan. However, an incidental run-in where you tended to him after a courtyard scuffle led him to recognize you as possibly the only person who would help him with concern devoid of judgment. That's how you fell into a routine of him 'just happening' to appear wherever you were settled, weaponizing his puppy eyes until you eventually agreed to patch up his wounds in order to minimize his visits to the hospital wing.
Mattheo had come to your dorm room tonight, causing you to let out a dramatic sigh, wordlessly directing him to sit on your desk chair while you fetched your ever-expanding collection of first-aid supplies.
As you inspected his marred knuckles with a light touch, he winced from the pain at the pressure points. There was some swelling, discoloration, and a hefty set of cuts all over his one fist. The drying blood along his joints seemed not to be his own.
"Oh, stop that," you chided him over his complaints. "Shouldn't you be used to the ache at this point? Damn masochist, aren't you," you continued, poking fun at Mattheo while casting 'glacius' on the water packs you had gathered just for this reason.
In response to your ribbing, Mattheo playfully bit his inner cheek, his expression shifting from pained to something more suggestive.
"You'd like that, I'm sure," he quipped. His eyes narrowed, trying to persuade yours to meet his as you applied the ice pack to his scratched hand. "You make quite the nurse," he continued, his voice dripping with flirtation. "And quite the sight, too. Seeing your pretty face distracts me from any wounds to my dignity. You think candy stripers are still a thing? Might be easier to tend to me in a shorter skirt," he added while his less injured hand found a comfortable resting spot where your waist met your hip.
"A better patient would stop causing such a distraction," you countered swiftly, deliberately avoiding that very gaze because you knew how quickly you would fold for the magnetism of his deep brown eyes. Yet, your actions defied your attitude as you allowed his hand to remain where it rested, his fingers curling slightly against the fabric of your clothing, which sent a shiver up your spine.
Mattheo smirked, indicating just how much he wanted to acknowledge what you both felt.
"Let me guess. You don't just carry around medical supplies because you want to play doctor," he mused. "I think you're helping me weekly because you're in love with me," he wiggled his brows, confident in his suggestion.
Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, silently conceding to the truth in his words but unwilling to admit it. Instead, you quickly regain your composure, lightly patting his cheek before adopting a more serious expression. "Hush, you're being disorderly. I can't fix you up with all this chatter," you scolded playfully, feigning annoyance.
Mattheo hissed, his eyes scrunching shut, reigniting your helper mode out of fear you had touched another sore spot. The guilt was short-lived, however, when the prick turned his head in both directions to show a bruise forming along the other side of his cheek, not the one you had touched. He just wanted to tease you, prompting you to retaliate with an additional pat out of spite on the uninjured cheek.
"Stop this. Remember, your life is in my hands; don't forget," you quipped snippily.
"Regardless of your consistent threats to my life, every time I come to you for help, I’m choosing to put my trust in you because you have feelings for me. And that's also why you're avoiding looking at me," he countered with a smug attitude, correctly assuming that this would finally get you to lock eyes with him. Which you did; looking right into his eager gaze paired with long lashes of everyone's envy. Even the few curls splayed over his forehead added to the appeal that despite him just coming from another bloody fight, you had to utilize every ounce of willpower to avoid melting at his ability to switch from intimidating to irresistible in an instant.
"Also, as my nurse, I’m surprised you don't know the cure-all to any injury," Mattheo begins again, and you suspect more nonsense is about to spill out.
You couldn't help but scoff. "What would that be?"
"A kiss."
You were utterly undone. "Bloody hell," you muttered, blushing profusely before deciding to indulge him this one time. You wouldn't quite treat him to some lip action, however. So instead of giving in entirely, you placed a small, modest peck on the tip of his nose.
The giddy expression that overcame him was worth it to see, but Mattheo, being himself, couldn't resist being a little greedy and pushing his luck further.
"Oh, on the nose? That only gets me halfway there," he complained with mock concern.
You could only smirk. Mattheo seemed to know better despite all attempts to convince him otherwise, which wasn't surprising given how perceptive he was. That, coupled with your consistent fumbling and his astute observation of your unwavering willingness to help him every time. Still, you weren't ready. While Mattheo's charm did get him quite far in leaving a lasting impression on you, you also knew that relinquishing yourself to the growing feelings would entangle you with the rest of his troubles, just as he would with yours. For now you'd prefer to let it simmer rather than dive right in. However, it didn't hurt to fantasize about how it would go.
For example, giving into the desire that your entire body ached for, to crawl into his lap and crash your lips against his. You longed to taste the metallic tang lingering from his blood-stained bottom lip that stirred with the scent of his cigarette addiction. You wanted to experience the absolute bliss that the softness of those pillowy lips would guarantee, all the while feigning surprise that this hardened bad boy could have any soft spots at all.
You craved to feel the hands responsible for splitting countless jaws roam your body with an unprecedented level of adoration, letting him fondle every last curve to ensure he learned all of it. You wanted him to discover all of your weak spots and master the art of caressing them in such a way as to elicit endless waves of pleasure every time. You yearned for him to possessively grope your ass, keeping yourself pressed to him as closely as possible while his other hand held the back of your head to draw out your kisses. His touches would solidify you as his, not just as his 'nurse' but in every sense that someone could belong to another.
Snapping yourself from drifting thoughts, you managed to deflect under the guise of needing to retrieve more supplies for an additional small cut you had overlooked. You came back, and despite your hesitancy, you wanted to leave Mattheo with a glimmer of hope.
"Tell you what," you started. "Let your hands heal so they can be of full use, and I'll grant you the other half of that kiss."
"Atta girl. That I can do," he grinned triumphantly.
"Yes, yes, now hold still so I can properly heal you."
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onyourowndaisymae · 7 months
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under where?
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content + warnings: nsfw, x fem!reader, flashing, discussions of oral
prompt: "Imagine sitting across from the brothers and nonchalantly spreading your legs to reveal no underwear under your skirt. Just IMAGINE their reactions…" (via: @shywritersblog)
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there's a tension in the air, a mixture of seven different reactions to the same action. seven demons who knew their master had such a commanding presence, had fallen victim to "stay" time and time again-- yet here you are, bringing all of them to their knees without uttering a single word.
lucifer pales when your legs spread. a low, possessive growl threatens to rock his chest, but he swallows hard and averts his gaze. you can see his cheeks flush a little. he meets your gaze-- he's very determined to show you he doesn't see you as a piece of meat-- and opens his mouth to scold you for such vulgar behavior. but there's this heat in your gaze, almost inviting as your eyes smolder with want. his mouth closes. he takes another look between your spread legs. fuck. you're so wet it's obscene. were you really that needy, working yourself up like that over there? he can only imagine what's running through your head, what depraved thoughts linger beneath that cheshire smile. no matter. just say the word and he's whisk you away to his room, alone, ready to please his master until dawn breaks through the darkened skies.
mammon whines, the sound loud and uninhibited, his cheeks engulfing in flames-- yet he can't bring himself to be ashamed. it takes everything in him not to pounce on you. he wants to yell, too. why? why're you so comfortable spreading your legs like that in front of all his brothers, huh?! don't you know the kind of filthy thoughts running through their heads?! the conflicting feelings make his stomach flutter. he wants to close your legs, guarding your entrance like a dragon to its hoard, greedy to keep its greatest treasure private. but he also wants to fall to his knees in front of you. to wait for your permission before burying his face in your cunt, fucking you on his tongue in front of everyone. he's getting impatient now that the thought's entered his mind-- so can you please stop looking at him like that and let him touch you already, before he loses whatever mind he has left?
leviathan can feel his shame rush to his face, burning heat pooling at the back of his neck. it's embarassing how quickly his pants grow tight and cumbersome. this-- this is too much for him. he needs to hide away, now, burrowing into a fort of blankets in his bathtub until a century or two passes and he's sure everyone's forgotten about this moment in time. but he can't. because you're staring at him. your eyes crawl up his body, lingering on his shifty feet, his quivering hands, his tented pants-- your gaze makes his head spin. he's going to pass out if you keep watching him like that. you wet your lips briefly, eyes darting to meet his before your gaze falls between his legs again, and he swears to every authority in every realm that he can feel his cock throb in need. please say something, do something. either let him retreat to lick his wounds or ride him until he's a puddle of drool and slick underneath you.
satan's cheeks flush, but he keeps his gaze steady as he thoroughly observes your sopping wet cunt. he wants to think of something clever or witty to say, but his mouth is so dry and his brain is so fuzzy-- do you know what you do to him? he's aware that you're teasing him. it's frustrating. all these eyes on you, and yet you're only looking at him. like a cat that got the cream, you're smirking, lounging in your chair like he can't see the slick gathering around your entrance. it would be so easy for his finger to slip inside you, finger fucking you senseless until you're so sensitive you writhe and dig your nails into the arms of that chair. but that would be too easy, wouldn't it? no, you're teasing the avatar of wrath. while patience is not his favorite virtue, it will be the one he has tonight-- because the moment you're finally underneath him, he's going to toy with you as much as he wants, prowl around your exposed body until he decides to pounce. after all, you're the one who wanted to play cat and mouse.
asmodeus can feel his lips curl into a grin. oh, you naughty little thing! a giggle escapes his lips as he watches you with rapt attention. oh, that slippery little cunt of yours is so cute! would you mind if he got a closer look? he wants to bask in this moment. you're biting your bottom lip and grinning right back at him, and it takes everything in him not to break the tension by letting honey filth spew from his lustful lips. sure, there's a lot he could say, but don't actions speak louder than words? in that case, he wouldn't mind running his tongue along that pretty clit of yours to taste your slick himself. he can't think of a better way to express his love for you than to ravish you as thoroughly as the tried and true avatar of lust can. the room is delightfully hot and intense, making his head spin as surges of lust bounce off the walls. oh, darling, the anticipation is killing him-- won't you just share all the dirty thoughts caught in that pretty little head of yours?
beelzebub suddenly feels like he shouldn't be here. he notices the change in the air before he notices your legs spread, ever perceptive to the emotions of his loved ones. and all of those feelings lead him to you-- specifically, that wet spot between your legs that's got everyone so riled all of a sudden. it makes him nervous. at first, he worries you've exposed yourself on accident. he looks away as his cheeks turn pink, ashamed of how quickly his mind begins to wander. but then he hears you shuffling-- so naturally, he looks back at you-- to find you pulling your skirt up further, bunching it around your thighs to give everyone a clearer view. he realizes now that you want everyone to see your cunt. now he doesn't feel so bad about staring, about the groan sitting in the back of his throat. he'll never push, never question your motives or try to touch you without explicit permission, but he can't help the way his mouth waters and his erection stirs in his pants. and judging by the way you're staring at him like a five course meal, it seems you don't mind much either.
belphegor's eyes widen in shock, before a predatory grin engulfs his face. oh. you're in for it now. you've given the game away by exposing yourself as a needy whore, and it's clear from your haughty smirk that you think you've won this game. that's cute. but you're playing with demons-- manipulative, scheming, needy demons that'd do anything to bury themselves deep inside of the very hole you're so determined to tease them with. or maybe you're just teasing one particular demon. because your eyes linger on his just a bit too long to be coincidental, flitting away to the ground or a nearby wall before meeting his again. are you feeling nervous now? you should be. make no mistake-- he sees what you're doing here, and he's already thinking of ways to handle it. you're clearly getting aroused by all the attention. he wants to help, but he's just feeling so tired. you're already so prepped and eager-- maybe he should let you sink onto his cock in this very room? he's curious to see how well you can perform with an audience.
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dcxdpdabbles · 5 months
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Freelance Inventor Part 2
Dedicated to @jimmysorsprinkles Thank you for enjoying my random dabbles. I saw that you wanted more Dads, Danny/Bruce, who are unknowingly co-parenting, so here it is! (set during the first prompt through the years of Danny just being a dad whenever he's home)
"I just don't know what to do," Bruce admits, watching Dick stomp about in tiny angry circles, muttering in his native tongue under his breath. He's been out there for about a half hour, doing laps in the yard. Danny knows he deliberately chose to do so under the window leading to Bruce's office.
The kid definitely wanted his guardian to know he was mad at him .
It was the fact Dick was unconsciously hunching his shoulders, curling his fist, and even raising his knee slightly higher than he needed for his stomps that were a nod to Bruce whenever the man was upset.
It seemed like Dick had picked up habits from Bruce during his short time here. If anything, Danny thought it rather cute if it weren't for the fact Dick was so upset.
"What happened?" He asked, standing beside Bruce, overlooking the pre-teen throwing a fit.
Bruce's frown is sharp and hinted with just the edge of uncertainty that anyone who didn't know him well would have dismissed. "He was being reckless in one of our extreme sports, and when I rightfully scolded him for it, he took it as me not trusting him."
Danny tilts his head, considering. It's been over three years since he became acquainted with the Waynes, and in that time- between his travels, his inventing, and his general desire to learn all he could in any way he could- he noticed that Dick was very quick to anger as a defensive mechanism.
This clashed horribly with Bruce's own mechanism- which was shutting down or at least emotionally wise. While Dick sneered and raged against the world, Bruce tried his best to forget he was human and detached himself from the situation.
Which wouldn't be so bad if it didn't feed into Dick's insecurities or Bruce's anxiety when they both reacted to adverse situations.
He has spoken to Jazz about it, and his sister has given him some advice that has helped him smooth things over with the young boy. Empathizing and paraphrasing the boy's issues was a big step in letting him feel heard and his feelings acknowledged.
For Bruce, he treated him like a ghost who had never seen a human. Plenty of ghosts were never human, were born in the ghost zone, or had been there for so long that they had forgotten what humans were like. Danny took time to explain why someone reacted the way they did- at least, why he thought so- and never made Bruce feel less for needing the help.
It was fun, in a way, to see Bruce's eyes lighten up with understanding and get him to talk about his rooted issues, but having to do so on carefully balanced tones and word choice. Phantom had so much practice de-escalating ghosts that it was a walk in the park with Bruce.
"I'll talk to him," Danny promised, leaning over to rest his hand on Bruce's shoulder and not batting an eye when the taller man landed down to rest his forehead on Danny's shoulder.
Where Bruce couldn't say in words, he yelled in his actions. It reminded him a bit of Wulf.
Bruce took a deep breath before nodding. "Thank you."
Danny hummed, reaching up to pet Bruce's hair like he would soothe Wulf, on days the werewolf would twitch too much at the door slamming, and suddenly his friend was mentally back in Walker's prison. "No problem. But, I will also be speaking to you later, and you are going to listen to Dick's side of the story without interrupting at dinner."
"Yes, Danny"
Alfred threw him an approving smile as he marched outside to meet Dick's rage-filled eyes and nervous hand twitching. He could catch the ending bits of whatever rant the boy was muttering.
"You're right. Bruce is an idiot sometimes." He starts grinning as the boy's eyes narrow further.
"You don't speak Romani."
"I may not understand what you're saying, but trust me, I feel it." Danny chirps, watching Dick's shoulder relax a little. " What did he do this time?"
"You won't even believe it!" Dick snaps, and then he's off, Danny keeping pace with him step by step as the boy works himself into another frenzy.
Later that night, Dick explained that he hated how Bruce made him feel so belittled and unimportant, his voice tight with a itch to fight, and Bruce carefully- with significant prompting from Danny- explained how he didn't mean it that way. He was only worried that he was about to watch Dick die in front of him, and he couldn't live through losing his family again.
Dick looked shocked to be considered family, and Danny swore he helped the boy sneak into Bruce's office, which so happened to have the adoption papers Bruce was hiding. Alfred gave him a large sample of pudding for dessert.
______________________________________________
"Hey, kid," Danny whispered, watching Jason tense up momentarily. It's not overly noticeable, but Danny has grown used to seeing little ghost blobs show emotions by how they twisted and twirled over the years, so he could tell what the slight tightening of the fingers around the book meant.
Anxious.
It would be understandable if Jason had been present for another one of Dick's and Bruce's explosive arguments. He came from a household that had an older male figure beat him whenever Willis got in a mood, so while he knew that Bruce or Dick would never hit him, Jason still tried to make himself scarce.
Jazz was the one to point out Jason's usage of escapism in the form of books to comfort himself, and so Danny took whatever time he could manage to read the same books as Jason while on his travels.
"What?" The boy grunted, voice soft but weary.
Danny sits across from him, making sure to stay in Jason's eyesight at all times. He had realized in only his second visit after meeting Jason that the boy did not like having someone too close in his space.
He grew up on the streets where being weary of older men kept him alive- Danny would never fault him for what he had to do to survive.
Unlike Dick, who was always down to talk about why he was upset if only to rant, Jason preferred to have a distraction. So he offers him a smile that he hopes projects You're safe with me and pulls out a book from his bag.
Jason's eyes light up at the cover. "I had some theories on Mr. Darcy being in love with Mr.Bingley before he met Elizabeth, and Bruce won't agree with me. Help me find citations as proof?"
"It's so obvious that he was, how can the old man not see that!" Jason snorts, tilting his head in a cute habit that he picked up from Dick. He really looks up to his big brother no matter how tense things can get.
Danny is glad he's gotten Dick to explain to Jason that he didn't hate him, but he was going through a lot, and Jason as a street kid, understood on some level.
"The old just hate listening to other people's suggestions even when we're right!." Jason leans over to read the book Danny places between them, considering Jane Austin's work while Danny files away the real reason he's upset with Bruce.
Later, after Jason and he present a bemused Bruce with a report on why Mr.Darcy is bi and had feelings for his best friend before meeting his wife, he tells Bruce to explain why he didn't consider Jason's suggestion in their extreme sport.
Jason goes to bed that night with a better answer than "because I said so," and Danny forces Bruce to go up to his room and re-read Pride and Prejudice to connect with his youngest.
Alfred offers them extra blankets and pillows since the two get so caught up reading to each other that Danny just decides sleeping in Bruce's bed is easier than walking down two wings to the guest rooms.
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"I'm not going to bed," Tim snapped when Danny knocked on his door. His fingers are flying over the keyboard of his computer, his little face glowing from the computer screen, and Danny is almost reminded of himself whenever he gets caught up in his work.
It may worry Bruce and Alfred, but Danny is a Fenton. He knows what it's like to have his brain run over time and sacrifice sleep or meals to get his ideas into the world.
His mother is the same, his father is the same, his sister is the same, and even Danny's clone is the same. It's fitting that the little boy he caught following Batmam around with a camera is the same since he all but forced Bruce to adopt him.
He hadn't meant to.
He had been testing an air purifier when he returned to Gotham since Bruce and the kids were out of state, and his ghost hearing picked up the sound of a camera click.
Imagine his surprise that when he turned to the roof opposite him, he found the tiny little face of an eleven-year-old staring back, holding a camera, and Batman swinging away in the distance. Danny became attached to Tim that night, even after he chased the boy down to ask if he was safe.
He did not like the implications of his parents always "working" while Tim ran amok in Gotham.
It took almost two weeks of following Tim around Gotham to help him with his photos before the boy allowed him to take him to Wayne Manor. It took three more before Bruce realized that Danny wouldn't allow Tim's parents to win him back, and together, they took the Drakes to court.
Danny has never been more grateful that Bruce was loaded with money and that his inventions gained him contacts in high places that wouldn't mind taking the Drakes down.
Tim was a lot like Bruce- where he shut down- but he needed people to be around him more. Sometimes just sitting in the same room- where Tim could glance up and see him- was enough for the boy to be at ease.
This was great for Bruce, who thought he didn't need to do much to make Tim happy- until Danny reminded him that Tim was a poor boy who was gutted for any form of parental approval.
He had to almost punch Bruce after overhearing him tell Tim he was proud of him, but there was room for improvement. Bruce meant it as helpful, constructive criticism, but Tim- whose parents all but drilled how useless he was- only heard criticism.
Only heard, he was not enough.
So now Tim was going, who knew how many hours without sleep, trying to fix whatever issue he thought he had caused. How a fourteen-year-old could have caused issues at his adoptive dad's multimillion-dollar company was beyond Danny, but it meant a lot to Tim, so he didn't need to understand it.
He just needed to respect it.
"Don't want you to," Danny grunts, throwing himself on Tim's queen-sized bed. "I just wanted to know if I could crash here. Bruce pissed me off."
Tim's fingers pause. "What did he do?"
"He tried to tell me how to handle my inventions' payment. I'm a freelancer! I know how to do that." Danny complains while twisting under the covers. Tim slowly turns around to look at him, but he acts like he doesn't notice. "I know he'll try to talk to me in the guest rooms, but he won't find me here. I just don't want to listen to another "I can do it better" lecture."
After a moment's pause, Tim admits. "He did the same to me and my team."
He means Cassie, Bart, and Conner. The little team of photography buddies Bruce introduced Tim back when they started homeschooling him. Dani suggested pulling Tim out of school is one of the best advice his clone ever gave him.
Tim took the pictures, Cassie and Conner modeled, and Bart made the clothes. Their work was slowly gaining traction online, and Tim seemed to glow whenever the Team was mentioned.
"Course he did." Danny sigh. He leans back into the pillow. "Know why he did it, too. Bruce doesn't want me to be taken advantage of, but it's hard not to hear him think I can't keep up, especially when my family is doing the same thing."
"Yeah," Tim's voice is soft. "It's frustrating that all your hard work is overshadowed or that everything you've done so far doesn't prove that you know you can."
Bingo. Danny discovered Tim's issue; now he just needs to bring it home.
"I know I'm great at what I do. You said so yourself- my past proves I am crazy good at work. I leave other people breathless in awe all the time. I can adapt and overcome so much faster than others. Bruce can see that, but he forgets to praise it." Danny huffs like he's trying not to be forgiving, and it causes a smile to unwillingly appear on Tim's face.
"I'll talk to him tomorrow but today I'm being petty and hiding. Thanks for letting me sleep here"
"You're welcome, Danny." Tim goes back to his typing, but only after a minute or two of Danny asking if he can turn off the light does the boy save his work and shut his computer down.
The room is plunged into darkness but Danny doesn't need the light to see how Tim sinks into his mattress. Tim is smart- crazy smart that every part of him that's Fenton crows with pride- and he can easily see through Danny.
"Thank you Danny" He doesn't say what for but he doesn't need to.
Danny reaches over, grabs the blankets, and makes sure they cover the small shoulder, tucking Tim in properly. "Any time kid"
The next morning, Bruce wakes them up with a powerpoint of all the things he thought were impressive about Tim and his team's last photo session. A powerpoint for Pete's sake.
But it makes Tim smile so much that Danny lets it slide. At least he listened when Danny chewed him out for forgetting to praise Tim.
Alfred offers Danny some of his private tea jars, which according to Dick, means Danny is in for life as Tim, Jason, and Bruce go over the PowerPoint again. Jason has begone to heal for his bitch of a mother's betrayal a few months ago.
Thankfully, Danny was in the area when he called and reminded the lady why she should not mess with Bruce's kids. Dani paying her a visit in her jail cell was just the Fentons' sending their regards.
(His dad gave Dani the ani-creep stick, and his mom hacked the cameras to loop. Jazz just watched hours of her to realize what made the woman scream and cry before sending the clone on her way. It was a good family bonding moment)
No one believed the woman claiming to be haunted that her son was Robin. Honestly, where on earth she got that idea Danny would never know.
His Jason, the sweet school-loving boy who graduated as valedictorian, running around punching criminals? Honestly, what was she going to claim next?
Bruce being Batman?!
Please.
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