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keeksandgigz · 4 months

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the love witch

modern!eddie munson x fem!witchy!reader

summary: Eddie Munson is obsessed with his girlfriend. Hell, he's not even sure how he was able to get you interested in him in the first place. Despite him not really believing in your witchy practices, he's incredibly supportive, but that doesn't come without his cheeky digs. He agrees to a tarot reading for shits and giggles. You don't like that he doesn't take it seriously.

cw: no y/n, reader's nickname is 'witchy' , talk of the occult, wiccan practices, description of r's clothing, but no body description, reader has female anatomy, oral (F receiving), face sitting, sub!Eddie, dom!Reader, choking, slight biting, dirty talk, honorifics, unprotected piv (pls don't do that), ending leans towards the whole witchy vibe

word count: 4.8k

this and all my works are 18+ minors do NOT interact

Eddie Munson is one lucky motherfucker.

Living in a small studio apartment in the Haight-Ashbury of San Francisco, which he got a damn good price on.

He works at one of the many vintage record stores in the neighborhood, which pulsates with raw musical energy, almost as if he steps in the 70s every time he gets out of the front door of his apartment building.

Sometimes he just sits on his fire escape to fuck around with his guitar, inspired by the smells of incense coming from the crystal shops, the music coming from the vintage clothing stores and the pungent smell of lingering weed at all hours of the day.

And with the shaggy, long, brown curls, bullet belt and chains, his black cutoff band t- shirts and heavy lace up boots, he seems to fit right in- for the first time in his life.

Next to his record store there is one of the many crystal shops on the high street, a tiny little nook he always walks by on the way to work and snickers to himself. There’s no way people believe in all that.

He stops doing that once he meets you.

Eddie Munson is one lucky motherfucker because he crosses paths with you.

He meets you while he is on his lunch break, using those thirty minutes of peace to walk around and usually pick up some prerolls from the dispensary a couple buildings down, or he lingers in front of the guitar store on the other side of the street, ogling at a B.C. Rich or an Ibanez, spending his break in there, fucking around with a cool amp.

He meets you on an off day. A day where he doesn't feel like walking around, so he just stands in front of his store smoking a cigarette. You're walking a longtime client out of the crystal shop next door.

“Thank you for that dried lavender, Janice! I’ll set aside some of that incense for you when we get the shipment” he hears you say. He turns around, snickers at your words while Janice passes in front of him, disappearing in the Saturday afternoon crowd.

“Something funny?” you ask. Your voice feels smooth like honey wine. He turns around, and suddenly he doesn't feel like snickering anymore.

You look so pretty, the kind of pretty that is almost otherworldly. Like you could’ve come up in his head while planning a DnD campaign. Purple bell sleeve top, a long, black, flowy skirt and lace- up boots. Dressed like his own elven high priestess.

He realizes he’d been staring at you for a good silent minute. He nervously breaks eye contact to put out his cigarette on the sole of his Docs.

“Sorry– heh, just don’t really believe in all that stuff” he says, shrugging. In doing that, his evidently too- short shirt rides up, exposing a sliver of the skin of his tummy, which doesn’t go unnoticed to you.

You lean on the doorframe of the store “What’s your name again?” you ask, a feline smile creeping on your lips.

He swallows “I um- haven’t told you my- It’s Edward- Eddie!” he corrects himself, you got him flustered “Nobody calls me Edward” he remarks.

His stammer makes you smile, like he's a wounded puppy dog.

“Alright Edward Eddie, see you around” and with that you disappear back into the store.

It takes Eddie a week to learn your name, asking the owner of the crystal shop you work at with no luck, then running into Janice a week later, who kindly tells him your name and then raves about you for a good ten minutes. Quite the hypewoman.

It takes Eddie another two weeks to ask you out on a date. You're wearing a long mauvish dress under a white cardigan when he sees you walk into the store. Your hair is pulled back from your face and he swears he sees stars in your eyes.

You say yes and agree to meet at a coffee shop, and by the end of the day, he asks you for a second date. And then a third, and a fourth, and by the arrival of fall, Eddie Munson has a girlfriend.

Eddie Munson is obsessed with his girlfriend.

He even jokes with his friends that his witch girlfriend put a spell on him. Made him drink a love potion, because he can't justify him being so obsessed with you.

Another thing he can't justify is you actually liking him. Sometimes he still needs to pinch himself to make sure it's not all a joke.

A pretty girl that looks like she's straight out of his DnD fantasies is dating him? There's no way shit like that happens to Edward Munson.

Although his apartment is right above the record shop, which means sneaking away for a quickie whenever you guys have matched up work schedules, he loves your apartment.

Twenty minutes away from Haight- Ashbury, in Twin Peaks, there lies your apartment. In an old building from the sixties or seventies, you have it decorated with tapestries and sun- catchers and rugs and pillows and cushions. It's a joy for Eddie's senses.

And with dating you, came Circe, your black cat who seems to have taken an almost immediate liking to Eddie.

Your apartment always smells like incense and candles, a smell you bring with you wherever you go. A smell Eddie loves. There are plants hanging from the ceiling and a big purple couch in the living room.

Everything is antique, lucky finds from thrift stores or flea markets. The table, chairs. The bookcases that hold your witchy books and your crystals.

The first time he comes over he picks one up. A carnelian.

"So, these pretty rocks are supposed to... what?" he asks, toying with every bit and bob on your bookshelf.

"They're crystals, Eddie. And each different one has a purpose. That one you're holding is a carnelian" you say, pouring him a cup of loose- leaf herbal tea, and pointing at the crystal with your nose.

"Okay, and what's it do?" he asks, toying with the smooth surface and going to sit on the ground next to you. He blows on his tea and takes a sip. He isn't a tea enjoyer, but for you he could be.

"Well, a lot of things, but primarily carnelians help boost sexual energy-" you get interrupted by Eddie sputtering out his tea. Some of it lands on you, which causes you to let out a shriek.

The ridiculousness of the situation is both endearing and hilarious. The poor guy probably didn't expect you being so blunt about your use of crystals to aid your sex life.

A giggle escapes you while Eddie tinges a deep shade of crimson from the embarrassment. He shakily sets down the teacup and saucer.

"Shi-shit sorry, lemme help you clean it up" he says, scrambling for the napkins on the coffee table to clean his mess up.

"You got some on me, Eddie" you say as you move your hair from your face to let him clean up the spit- out tea from your cheek.

"Oh my god, sorry lemme get that" he repeats, flushed.

He's shaky in reaching for the napkin to wipe your skin, afraid that he might have ruined his shot at dating you just because he cannot keep his mouth shut.

"It's honestly not a big deal, Ed. It was just funny for the most part" you smile at him, reaching your hand to lay his head on your shoulder. He breathes again.

Once he's calmed down he continues his curious interview.

"So what, do you put it up your pussy or something?" The idea of it makes Eddie's blood run slightly hotter. You laugh.

He blushes at your reaction, feeling slightly embarrassed once he registers what he had just said.

A sheepish "sorry" escapes his lips.

"No, no it's fine" you chuckle "not exactly. You just kinda charge them and set intentions. Then you can take it with you on, like, a date, if you wanna hope for something more" you say. He becomes very aware of his hard- on when you say that.

There is a thick sense of expectation in the air once those words leave your mouth. It could be the thick incense smoke floating around the room, or it could be the way you're looking at him like you want to eat him whole. Your faces get closer.

"I brought one with me today, actually" you admit. And he has never taken his shirt off so fast in his life.

So every time you hang out, he carries a piece if carnelian in his pocket, in hopes to repeat what happened at your apartment.

With time, he learns to carry a rose quartz with him, too.

Soon after, you begin gifting him crystals and bracelets to carry with him. He likes his black tourmaline beaded bracelet the best.

"It's for protection" you had said. It's just very metal to him.

He never really believes in it, but it's sweet, seeing you show up to his apartment with little colorful rocks to put on his windowsill. You teach him how to recharge them and set intentions, but after the second or third time he just can't be bothered.

He quickly learns it's not just pretty rocks you're interested in. You're, like, a full- fledged witch. Hence, the nickname 'witchy' he'd given you.

You ask him for the time and place of his birth. He scrambles to text his uncle Wayne to ask if he remembers what time he's born.

After a couple days of searching, Wayne comes across Elizabeth Munson's old diary. Indianapolis, Indiana, December 21st, 1997 at 3:47 AM.

Eddie Munson has a birth chart.

Sagittarius sun, Scorpio moon, Aries rising.

Whatever that means.

You try to explain it to him, but to no avail. He doesn't really care much for the stars. Except the ones in your eyes.

He swears he can see them twinkle every time you're laying on your brocade rug in the candle lit living room. He learns you don't really use your couch, rather, you just lay on the floor, among a pile of pillows.

Sometimes you're watching TV together. You're sat in between his legs, leaning against his chest, while Circe lays on your lap. And you look at his palms, tracing the fine lines and ridges of his calloused hands.

"You have lines on the top of your hand" you whisper, kissing his fingers.

He blows the cigarette smoke out the open window, careful not to make your house smell.

"Yeah, no shit. We all have 'em, witchy" he places a kiss to the crown of your head.

"No, look right here" you say, tracing the faint lines right where his callouses are "lines like this means you're gonna have a long life" you kiss that spot on his hand. Coarse, but warm.

"Thank fuck, imagine if i just got hit by a cable car tomorrow?" he chuckles, going back to watching TV.

You trace a deep line that goes across the palm of his hand, you smile to yourself.

"Whatcha smilin' about, witchy?" he says, eyes still glued on the TV.

"You have a double heart line. Means you love a lot" you turn and give him a smile. One of those that make your eyes sparkle in the candlelight.

"If I have a double heart line, does that mean I love you more?" he asks, sickly sweet. He cringes at himself for swearing he wasn't going to be that guy, but when you look at him like he just hung the moon for you, he can allow himself to be disgustingly sappy.

You think about it, because he does have a point, but you don't want to make him win this two- month long game you've been playing, so instead you take his palm once more.

"Look, Ed" you say, pointing at a random prominent line "this line tells me you're an asshole" you laugh, as he pinches your sides and you try to squirm away, but his hands are holding you firmly while planting sloppy kisses everywhere he could reach.

Cheek, neck, shoulder. He inhales the curve between your neck and shoulder, and you swear your feel a bit of tongue poke out between his lips. Then he stops.

And you feel it. Deeply seated at the bottom of your back, pressing against the exposed skin between your shirt and pants.

Eddie loves the way you smell, intoxicated by the smell of lavender incense and some kind of berry perfume you wear.

He's convinced that perfume is actually just a pheromone concentrate, because he cannot stop the blood rushing to his dick everytime he catches a whiff of the sweet berries, nestled in the crook of your neck, behind your ear.

"And where's the line that tells me I'm gonna get a kiss?" Eddie asks, voice low and gravelly, a voice that fills you with need, makes your breath falter from your lungs, replacing it with water. But you kiss him nonetheless, and maybe him getting a kiss is written in the stars, after all.

He softly grabs your hair as he slips his tongue in your mouth. Honey- wine whimpers falling from your lips, as you try and get Circe off your lap and in literally any other room. The cat seems to be unbothered.

"Ed... she doesn't want to move" you whine, high pitched voice expressing annoyance, but also overwhelmed at how cute your cat is.

"She's the biggest cockblocker in history" he mutters annoyed, you laugh. A groan leaves his mouth.

"Leave her alone she's just a baby! Us having sex tonight just wasn't in the stars" you shrug, light and airy as you go back to leaning on his chest and petting Circe.

Fuck the stars. He huffs, accepting his fate

He waits for you outside of the shop when he's not working. Guitar case slung around his shoulders, so he can practice at yours, he picks you up and you take the train to your apartment.

"How was work today, witchy?" he asks, roping a hand around your shoulders and giving you a tender kiss on your head.

"Meh, a. bunch of wannabe Tiktok witches, a bunch of old ladies booking tarot readings and threatening to leave bad reviews because I told them their husband is cheating on them or something" you shrug getting on the bus "Janice came, though, she brought me some jasmine flowers so I can make love tea" you say, sitting down. He sits next to you.

You take out the small satchel of dried jasmine flowers, taking in the sweet scent of citrusy flowers.

"Love tea?" he asks "that what you give me when I come over to your apartment every time?" he dips his nose in the satchel, giving it a sniff.

"Yeah, you wish" you laugh "just peppermint tea. Don't want you accusing me I put a love spell on you" Eddie smiles and lays your head on his shoulder while you play with the tassels of your bag, letting you close your eyes for the twenty minutes of the train ride.

Once you're home he slings the guitar case off his shoulders and takes it out, sitting at the stools of your breakfast counter, while you empty the contents of your bag.

Herbs, oils and a new card deck.

"So, what do you need to do now?" he asks, pulling out his phone, looking for guitar tabs to practice on.

"'kay, so" you begin "I need to make tea blend, then putting stuff together for this new project I'm working on, and then break out this new deck I got from work" you say, lost in the mysticism of your to- do list.

Sometimes he finds it funny that the stuff you have to worry about is totally otherworldly to what he usually worries about.

He watches you break out the mortar and pestle while you measure a teaspoon of dried rosebuds, a teaspoon of dried lavender buds, a teaspoon of jasmine and a pinch of cinnamon. He mindlessly plays a couple chords from a song he heard at the record shop.

"What's the cinnamon for?" he asks, pointing at the jar.

"Spicing things up? Cinnamon is a spice, so could be. I'm trying out this new recipe" you say, grinding the flowers together.

"So what you're saying" he begins, looking up from his guitar "is that you're making sex tea" and the feline grin plastered on your face is enough to make you wanna smack him in the head.

"This is not sex tea, Edward" you interject sternly while pouring the contents of the mortar in a new jar.

You light an incense stick, a rose infused one, to set your intentions for this batch, then putting it to rest on your windowsill for the night.

"What are you doing, witchy?" he asks, following your gaze as you set down the jar.

"It's for the moon. Charges the tea" you say, nonchalantly "can you pass me that deck on the counter, please?" you sit on the carpet legs crossed, while Eddie reaches for the card deck and tosses it at you. You catch it.

He sets down his guitar against the counter to goes to stand in front of you as you take the tarot cards out of the deck and start shuffling them.

"What's that baby?" he asks, he swears he can never stop learning from you.

"My new tarot deck, I need to break it out. Want me to give you a reading?" you ask, hoping he'll say yes.

He truly thinks about it, because he doesn't believe in any of this stuff, but saying no to you and watching your eyes darken with sadness is something he doesn't want to put himself through.

He is a weak, weak man.

He shrugs. "Alright then" he says, sitting down on one of the cushy pink pillows on the floor of your apartment "gimme a reading, you little witch"

Your ringed hands shuffle the gold filigree cards.

"I'm gonna do a regular spread, 'kay? Just past, present, future" you look at him, and he swears he sees your eyes twinkling again in the light of the glass lamp on the side table.

You fan out the cards on the carpet and let him pick three cards.

He's reluctant about this, all he really wants is to cook dinner together and spend the evening with you.

You spread the three cards out and unveil the first one.

"Okay, so that's The Empress. Means you have a significant female figure in your life. It usually represents feminine beauty, abundance" you say, explaining it to him.

"You got some abundance, alright" he huffs a laugh, quickly silenced by a deathly stare. You didn't like it when he made fun of what you liked. You roll your eyes at him.

"Sorry, witchy. Keep going" he smiles, like he's about to crack another joke.

"Yeah, okay." you flip the middle card "what luck. You got the lovers" you say, unenthusiastically.

Eddie's eyes light up at the possibility of a joke "Is that the card that tells me I'm getting some sick pussy in the next five minutes?" he asks, his tone makes you want to throw the empty box of cards at his head.

"It looks like you're not taking it seriously, so what's the point" you go to stand up, but he stops you.

"Sorry, baby, please don't leave. I'm enjoying this, Sorry, I won't make any more jokes, I promise" he pleads, and a wicked idea sparks in your head. He sounds really pretty when he begs.

You let out an annoyed groan as you sit back down and you unveil the last card, his future.

Ace of wands. Sex really was in his cards tonight.

"What's that, baby?" he asks.

"Ace of wands. Looks like you're gonna get some 'sick pussy' after all, Munson. Lie down." You command.

He flushes red. "Huh?" you reach under your long skirt to remove your panties.

"I said lie down, I'm giving you what the cards said" you stare at him, expectation in your eyes as he lays down on the brocade carpet, unsure if he should feel afraid or like the luckiest motherfucker alive.

"Better put in the work, pretty boy" you say, crawling on top of him, he looks at you, eyes blown as you lift your skirt, climbing the length of his body. You reach a resting place right on top of his mouth.

It takes him a second to register that you're sitting on his face, and his tongue darts out of his open mouth, to shyly have a taste.

"C'mon now, Eddie, where is the passion? You seemed really passionate about cracking jokes earlier, didn't you?" you cooed, holding up your shirt to look at his eyes, twinkling and darkened as his tongue begins to lap up the length of your pussy.

He gets the hang of it as your hips begin to grind on his face, his tongue darting in and out of your hole as his nose bumps deliciously against your clit.

"Mmm fuck" you gasp as you raise your hips to let him breathe, but he just pulls you down harder. A gasp escapes your mouth as the sound of your moans and Eddie's slurping fills the room.

Even he hears it, because you can see his eyes roll to the back of his head as a resounding hum escapes his lips, vibrating against you, wet and sensitive.

A whine leaves your mouth as you begin to get more desperate, grabbing a handful of his hair, grinding your hips harder against his tongue.

"Doing so good for me, Ed." you say in a feeble attempt to keep the reins controlled, but his tongue works magic on you, making your brain turn to mush.

"There you go don't stop, don't you dare fucking stop" you command, and his tongue flicks against your clit, catching it between his teeth to begin to suck at it.

A mewl leaves your lips, feeling the familiar warmth in your belly begin to form as you pull harder on his hair, moans becoming more high pitched and strained as Eddie makes quick work of his tongue on you.

"'mgonna cum on your face, you want that?" you ask, a rhetorical question, because of course he wants you to gush all over him.

And so you do. You come with a silent scream, riding the orgasm out with the last few snaps of your hips, as your breathing stills and your vision goes white.

Eddie's also panting like a dog under you, aching in his pants for you to make him cum.

You get off his mouth, his chin coated with your fluids as he gathers them on his fingers and sticks them in his mouth. You can't help but mutter a "good boy" as you reach for the belt of his pants.

"Sit up" you command, as he goes to straighten his back and lean against your purple couch.

You take off his shirt "I'm gonna ride you, yeah?" he looks at you like you've just discovered that aliens are real.

"God, yes please, please" he says, looking up at you as you unzip your top off, and you swear his eyes grow bigger at the sight of your chest, your bra still on. A longing sigh leaves his mouth.

You unbutton his jeans and lower them to his mid thigh along with his boxers as his cock slaps against his tummy. He hisses at the feeling as he watches you align yourself on top of it.

"You want it, Ed?" you question, an aura of cool, calm control exuding from you.

He whines. "Please, I want it so bad. Please put it in" he begs, and you've never realized how pretty his voice sounded when begging. Whiny and high pitched, nasal, almost as if he were about to cry. A prayer for you to fulfill him, make him whole.

Like he is nothing without you.

Is that what it felt like for him to see you crying on his cock every night? A rush of power washes over you, as you motion to sink down on him, but quickly going back up.

He lets out a whiny cry, a bratty child without his candy.

"Uh- huh. Beg me to fuck you, Ed" you say. You swear you can feel him shiver, his cock jumping from underneath your skirt.

"F-fuck, please. Please fuck me. Please my love, my witch, my high priestess" he rambles, your hand creeps up his thick neck, wrapping around it "fuck mmm please, I'll do anything. I'll give you everything" a frenzied speech, his words speed up at the feeling of your nails scratching the skin of his neck.

He'd let you sacrifice him to the devil if you asked him.

Feeling his pulse point with your nails as you begin to squeeze the sides of it, a needy gasp escapes the pretty boy's mouth.

Flushed a pretty red, sweat clinging to the base of his neck and forehead, hair curling and sticking to his feverish skin as you begin to sink down on him.

Inch by inch, slowly feeling him fill you up, as a quiet "oh" escapes you once you've taken all of him.

His breath is quick and labored, quiet pleas rolling out of the sweetness of his tongue, where the taste of you lingers. The love potion you'd been administering him all along.

Eddie Munson is not a religious guy, but if he needs to pray to his goddess to get you to fuck him he'll do it.

But you start moving. A slow, feline movement of your back, almost as if you and Circe were the same creature, a shapeshifter from another world. A goddess, an empress of his body and mind. He was wrapped around your finger.

Your hands tighten around his neck as you grind yourself down on him, he whimpers.

"Mmmm, so big" you mutter against his ear, biting his lobe. And everything you do makes him whine and buck himself deeper inside you, hitting the spongy walls deep inside you, needing more of you. Needing you to swallow him whole.

And you comply, raising your hips and lowering them, bouncing yourself on him as if you were only using him to chase your own pleasure. The thought of it makes Eddie shiver and moan, a strangled sound coming out of his constricted throat.

He hopes your hand leaves a mark on his neck, so people know he's yours. So people know that the witch next door spelled him and he is now in love with her. He never wants to get away from her.

"You- you're so good" he whispers, hips rising and falling on his cock, head lolling as you feel yourself get close again.

"Yeah, baby? Thank me, then. Thank your goddess for making you feel so good" you command, and his hands travel through every inch of your body, feeling every ridge and crease and bump. Wanting to feel you, wanting to worship you.

"F-fuck, thank you, thank you, thank you." a prayer to his goddess, for making him feel so good. "Please more, I- I'm so-"

"You're close aren't you?" you coo, cradling the back of his head with your free hand. Making him look at you.

"'M so close, please let me let me let me please" he begins to chant, too far gone from the feeling of your nails digging on the sides of his neck, scratching his sweaty scalp, tongue tracing the outline of his lips as quick and labored breaths escape him.

"C'mon, cum for me" you whisper in his ear, letting go of his neck and latching your lips onto him, leaving a few purple bruises on his milky skin.

You feel him spill inside you with a whine, shivering, while you ride him for all he is, chasing your own release.

You follow him soon after, biting down on his shoulder. The taste of his sweaty skin lingering on your tongue.

You stay clung to him for a few minutes after, quiet and panting as he revels in the post- orgasmic feeling you've just given him.

"Never thought I would've been the submissive type" he huffs out with a laugh as you climb off of him.

"Well, you're welcome. Gonna go have a milk bath, be right back" you stand, reveling in the feeling of his spent spilling out of you.

He hears the shower turn on and as he's getting dressed, Circe comes to nuzzle on his lap.

He raises an eyebrow.

Where has she been the whole time? The rooms of your apartment were all open when you got back. She was probably just taking a nap in your bed.

He shrugs as he delivers a couple pets to her head.

Meanwhile in the bathroom, a spell book is suspended mid air as you look a spell to get rid of a hickey that Eddie had left on your neck.

mini taglist: @strangerstilinski, @stuckonthefiction, @elegantkoalapaper, @gravedigginbbydoll, @eddiesxangel, @reidsbtch, @bangaveragewhitewine, @chaoticharrington, @hideoutside, @monstxrteeth, @the-local-pendeja, @thornsnvultures, @strangerfreaks, @unverifiedmeatsuit, @strangerfreaks, @starlitlakes, @thebejeweledwatercat, @aphrogeneias, @chrrymunson, @amira0303, @paradise-summertime, @onegirlmanytales, @piecsesrising, @feralamdtiredrat, @m0llygunn , @angel-upon, @lavendermunson, @cowboylikemunson

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mjolnirswriststrap · 2 months

Text

Not My Type

Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader x Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2,329 Masterlist Part 2

Summary: Bucky is dumb.

Warnings: Fatphobia.

A/N: something short, sweet and simple because I’m starting to feel guilty about not posting 😭

Steve watched, as his friend searched around the club with his eyes. He could assume Bucky was just waiting on the rest of their coworkers to get there, but he knew better. “She’ll get here soon enough, relax.”. Steve leans his back against the booth and takes a long drink of his beer. “Who?” Bucky asks, unconvincingly.

“Y/N.” He says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Bucky scrunches up his face “As if, man.” He ignores the look of disbelief Steve gives him. “Why deny it? I’ve caught you staring her down more times than I can count.”. Steve stands up and waves to signal Natasha to where they sat. “There’s nothing to deny, she’s not my type, leave it there so no one’s feelings get hurt, okay?” Bucky puts the bottle to his lips to shush himself when he sees you approach the booth.

“You guys look.” Steve’s speechless as he takes in the silk nighties the girls adorned. They all wore semi matching babydoll dresses. Color coded fishnets and heeled slippers adorned their long legs. Their hair was high and teased, makeup adding to the sultry bedtime look they were going for.

“You’re gonna catch flies.” Wanda remarks, leaving to find Vision having the time of his life with the DJ. Steve’s reaction to their costumes did nothing to calm your nerves. You went with the housewife costume too. Just a different approach entirely. Your hair sat in victory rolls atop your head, a thick stack of curls laying on your shoulders, a knee length dress with three quartered sleeves covered you. You’re painted your eyebrows on thinly, just to over line your lips, filling them in with your favorite red Mac lipstick. You were the most modest in your costume, but the most accurate.

You couldn’t wear a see through nightgown to the club. You would die of embarrassment, your rolls would be everywhere. At least in this thick cotton dress, no one could see the layers of shape wear you wore. You slid into the booth and sat beside Steve, getting sandwiched in when Sam finally arrives, late with no costume. “What took you so long, huh khakis?” You tease him, feeling nothing but comfort in his presence.

“You ever had to tell a 10 year old his idea isn’t good enough.” He laughs, “, You should go as yourself Unc!” He recalls the boys words over the phone. “Oh, of course, looks like a superhero to me!” You giggle, loving the thought of his nephews building up his self esteem. He was new to the team, no super strength or speed. Just courage, you admired Sam.

You finally take the chance to look around the booth. Steve wore his vintage Captain America suit, claiming it still fits like a glove. Bucky didn’t wear a costume, just his regular black t-shirt and leather jacket, no effort, even for Halloween. It helped Sam not look so out of place, so you just rolled your eyes at him. He tried way to hard to act like he didn’t care about anything, or anyone. You hate people like that, too self absorbed to carry on a conversation with someone who doesn’t benefit them.

You had been on the wrong side of his attitude before. Bumbling up to him after your first meeting. Stretching out your hand for a shake, he barely touched your hand as he shook your fingers, nodding at you with a curt “Welcome.” You didn’t think much of it till he sat beside Yelena, who got recruited the same day as you, and sparked up a lively conversation with her, telling her if she needs anything at the compound to come ask him. That was the first time Bucky hurt your feelings, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“Y/N!” Someone yells at you from the dance floor. It’s Yelena dancing alone, “You promised me a dance.” She says, holding her arms out for you. You nudge Sam on the shoulder and do the most embarrassing scoot out of the booth you could imagine. Your dress rode up in the time you’d been sitting there, causing your thighs to stick to the old leather. Your face grimaces and you peel your skin away, hoping no one noticed.

“I’m on the dance floor, as promised.” You say, holding her hands while she dances on you. “You’re gonna need to do more than stand there if you want him to notice you.” She remarks, not skipping a beat. Yelena knew you too well, she knew you picked the 40s for a reason, not going with their free spirit 60s slumber get up.

Giving her a wide eyed look, as if he heard over the thumping music. “We both know I have no rhythm, stop that.” You giggle when she presses her back against you and slides down into a squat. She goes behind you and grabs your hips, forcing you against her chest. She grinds you into her pelvis, using her hands to guide your hips in sync with hers. You never moved that way before, and the sensuality of it had your heart racing. Yelena could be anyone, tightly holding on to you, you closed your eyes and threw your head back on her shoulder, just to imagine it was him for a moment.

You feel Yelena’s lips tickle your ear and she’s whispering “Look who can’t take their eyes off of you.” You tilt your head down and open your eyes to lock them with Bucky’s. He looks angry, like you pissed in his cheerios. You turn your body around to face Yelena, “I think he’s upset I’m blocking his view from you.”. That causes her to laugh out loud, grabbing your shoulders to shake you. “You’re mad woman! Look at what’s right in front of you.”. You laugh and look behind you to see Bucky staring down his beer now, instead of you.

“Yelena, I don’t know how to put this, he probably doesn’t even go for girls like me, skinny blonde seems more his type. You, you seem more his type.” You plead with her. She just shakes her head, “He doesn’t like me, I promise, Y/N.” You nod your head, trusting the closest friend you had.

You make your way to the bar, grabbing a drink to cool yourself off. You’re walking back to the booth to get off your feet when you overhear Steve and Bucky’s conversation.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“You look like a helpless puppy, just make your move.”

“As if I’d need to, she’s probably never had male attention, that’s too easy.”

“Just admit that you’re afraid of rejection.”

“From her? Never in a million years would fatty have a chance. Like I said she’s obviously not my type.”. Bucky instantly regretted the words as they came out of his mouth, he didn’t mean it. But Steve wouldn’t stop accusing him of having a crush on you.

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but you push them down. You knew better, Yelena didn’t, you shouldn’t have let her give you false hope. You choke down your pride and turn the corner, sliding into the booth as if nothing happened. “I think this is my last drink guys, I’m getting tired, and winter training starts tomorrow.”.

An echo of ‘boos’ and a “noooo why.” Almost tempt you to stay. But you know you’re not wanted here, by the one person that mattered. Steve catches your attention, “Are you sure? The nights still young.” He wiggles his brows. You give him a tight lipped smile, knowing he tried to get Bucky to make a move.

“Yeah, there’s really not much for me here. I came for Natasha.” He nods, giving Bucky a death glare. You finish your drink and when you stand up the previous shots you had with Wanda hit you. You quickly sit back down, grabbing the table for stability. “Are you alright?” Steve rests his hand on your lower back, scooting closer to you.

You shake your head, not being able to form words. You think you’d faint if you didn’t focus on breathing. “Let me help you home.” He can see the unsure expression on your face. “Wouldn’t be respecting the suit if I didn’t make sure you got home safe.”. With that he convinced you.

When the cold October air hits your face, it sobers you a little bit, taking away the dizzy feeling, leaving you with a thumping head. Steve takes a few minutes to join you outside, you left him in a heated whisper match with Bucky.

You’re leaned against the side of the building when he finds you. “Ready to go?” He offers you his arm but you shake your head. “No need to be such a gentleman, it’s just me.” You say, knowing he’s doing it just to be nice.

Steve cocks his head to the side. “Why shouldn’t I be a gentleman towards you?” He asks. You press your pounding head against the brick wall, closing your eyes to think of the right words. “The only reason a guy needs to be a gentleman is for good impressions. I highly doubt you feel a need to impress me.”.

He scoffs at you, “What gives you the impression that you’re not worth impressing?”. Even though you were tipsy, Bucky’s words seared your frontal lobe. You suddenly are at a loss for words. How do you tell him you were eavesdropping on their conversation.

“I just don’t get much male attention I guess.” You let him in, his eyes widen in realization that you heard Bucky’s harsh words. “I’m sorry about him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” He says, stepping closer to you. You roll your eyes at him.

“No, he knew exactly what he was talking about. Fatty is no one’s type. No one looks at me and thinks “woah, the most beautiful woman in the world just walked in the room”.” You push yourself off the wall. “I understand that you wouldn’t get that, since you’re so perfect Steve. Women lay down at your feet, your options are endless. But not for someone like me.”.

Steve’s face had turned into a stone. His jaw clenched tightly. He let you vent out your frustrations. “The way you looked at the girls, the way half the club looked at the girls, I’ll never have that.”. You look at your feet and notice him take a step closer to you. You look up to see your faces not too far apart.

“I was looking at you too.” He reaches out, letting his hands hover over your waist. He rests them on your hips when your don’t push him away. “I don’t care what he said, he’s just insecure, he can’t admit that he thinks you’re hot.” You scoff at him this time.

“Steve whatever you’re doing, I get the whole nice guy thing. But just stop.” You say, pressing your hand against his chest. The thin polyester did nothing to conceal his smooth muscles. You feel him squeeze your sides tighter, his thumbs pressing into your belly. “He doesn’t speak for me.”.

You look into his dark eyes. “What are you saying?”. You’d never even humored yourself by considering Steve. You now had to rethink every encounter you ever had with him. “Forget him, let me show you how a real man appreciates a woman.”

He slides his hands down, letting them grasp as much of your ass that could fit in them. You gasp, he wasn’t afraid of your body, he knows what it has to offer. Judging by the way he gripped on to your ass like his life depended on it, he liked it.

“What if someone sees?” You say, pushing his hands off of you. He replaces them “I’m not afraid, why are you?” He leans down, connecting your lips, you’re frozen for a moment. How do you kiss him back? Before you could find out you feel a hand on your shoulder, ripping you away from Steve.

“What are you doing?” Bucky is talking to his friend, ignoring your existence. “Excuse me, we were in the middle of something.” Steve steps between you and Bucky. “You shouldn’t be out here hooking up with a random coworker.” Bucky says, trying to convince himself.

“Y/N isn’t a random coworker, Jesus Bucky, what’s your problem?” Steve asks, letting his anger show. He knew what he was doing, if Bucky wouldn’t admit it on his own, jealousy would work just fine. Bucky balls up his fists at his side “You know what my problem is.”.

You’re staring at Steve’s back, you don’t know what Bucky’s talking about. Is he so repulsed by a plus size woman, he doesn’t even want his friend with one? You were done, you’d never done anything to Bucky besides exist. He had an imaginary problem with you.

You stepped around Steve, crossing your arms in front of your chest. You don’t know where the boost of confidence came from, probably Steve’s lips and hand placement. You look Bucky up and down, truly taking him in.

He was perfect, and he knew it. It was starting to disgust you. “Just because ‘fattys’ like me have no chance with you, doesn’t mean that I’m not worthy of another man being attracted to me.” You take a step back, pressing yourself against Steve. Just to show Bucky, you meant business.

Basing it off of the hard indentation on the front of Steve’s spandex, he liked watching you tell Bucky off. You turn your body around to face him, throwing a look over your shoulder at Bucky, “Take me home Stevie.” You sing song in his ear.

A smirk falls on his lips, “Let’s do that princess.” He says while leading you out of the alley. Bucky is stuck in place, having an internal war with himself, that you weren’t gonna stick around for.

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vmpyria · 3 months

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IMAGINE DRESSING ALL GOTH AND ABSOLUTELY PAINTING THE TOWN RED WITH ALASTOR OMG??

this is the dream

SO TRUE NONNIE!! i have a goth oc that’s paired with alastor so i’m just going to use her vibes for this! she’s an overlord so you’re both an iconic couple in this!

no one can mess with the radio demon and his wife.

“my sweetheart! you look wonderful!” alastor boasted as you finished applying your icon black lipstick, glancing at your husband through your hand mirror.

it was metal with beautiful vintage design, “you always say that, darling.” you hummed in reply, making sure your makeup was perfect before placing the mirror back on your vanity.

“well, of course! you always amaze me with your beauty and skill!” alastor said cheerfully, you stood showing off your outfit.

your make up style was very leaning towards the traditional style of goth make up, given you had passed in the 80’s.

white foundation, big and eccentric eyeliner, wings long and thick. with black and grey eyeshadow, sometimes you used blush, but today was a monochromatic day.

your outfit was styled perfectly, a long floor length black dress, with a slit that ran all the way up to your thigh. a corset hugged your waist tightly, making your figure prominent. the dress had lace sleeves that resembled a bat. your heels were polished and shiny. your hair was teased and styled to your exact liking.

alastor’s grin widened and his gaze lit up.

“what a beautiful dress too!” he complimented, you smiled as your stepped closer.

extending your hand out to him, he took it gently. pressing a kiss on your knuckles. “you’re such a gentleman,” you hummed, alastor offered you his arm.

“well, of course, darling! i have to make sure my wife is happy, right?” he smiled, intertwining your arm with his and exited to the city of hell.

it was just a casual stroll, the two of you talking about mundane things, that is until a gang of shark demons approached.

the leader, naive to the power you two held, began hitting on you.

“baby! you’re so scary, huh! c’mon, leave that grinning freak and let me give you the night of your life!” the demon called. stopping in your tracks, you glanced at the group. seemed like the demon had some goons, as they all laugh at his comment, even going to add more crude about you and your husband.

but you didn’t worry, alastor’s grip on your arm tightened. his patience running thin, “darling?” you called, alastor looked at you.

you grinned, sharp pointed teeth visible in your smile.

“what to have some fun?” you teased, your words implying more. alastor matched your energy, “i thought you’d never ask!”

just as the demon yelled a comment, you didn’t really catch it, but you knew it had to do with your breasts. you and alastor had no issue dealing with them.

the people around the area scattered as they watched you and your husband maul the men that dared to cross you both.

the screams of the demons echoed through the red sky, pleas for mercy falling on death ears before they were ripped apart.

alastor had given you the last hit, the leader, which you took gracefully!

your claws dug into the demons skin before ripping some flesh off, the leader screeched for mercy, but you didn’t care!

by the end of this whole ordeal, you and you’re husband were covered in blood. you didn’t care too much, but your corset was stained! what a shame.

“what a show!” alastor perked, coming to your side, wrapping his arm around your waist, “you truly taught them a lesson.” he praised looking down at you, you hummed. “i guess so, now i have to take my clothing to the tailor though! i can’t walk around all bloody and gross.” you lamented, wiping away some of the thick crimson liquid from your cheek.

“me too, sweetheart! let’s go later in the afternoon, yes?” alastor proposed, looking down at you while grinning. you nodded, smiling as well.

“sounds like a plan!”

#⛧ . WRITINGS #࣪ ˖ 𓂃 anon’s 𖤐 #alastor smut #hazbin alastor #hazbin x you #yandere hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor

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cameronspecial · 23 days

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Mistakes That Can Be Undone

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.4K

Summary: After finding an invitation that throws his whole world off balance, Rafe has a plan to get back the love of his life.

A/N: Inspired by "Something Blue" by Voilà.

Masterlist

When Rafe finds the invitation, his world becomes submerged in water, already causing him to feel dizzy. ‘You are invited to join Y/N Y/L/N and Hudson Jones to celebrate their wedding’ makes him forget what he is getting from Topper’s room in the first place. Of course, Topper got an invitation. He isn’t only Rafe’s friend but hers. The black-and-white extravagance of the invitation is not her choice. He knows for a fact she has always dreamed of a smaller wedding. Just their immediate family and closest friends attend the most important day of their life.

———

Her head rested on his stomach as she scrolled through Instagram. A particular post caused her thumb to hesitate to swipe up. She angled her phone toward him, “Remember, Mrs. Thompson? She got remarried.” His eyes darted toward her screen to see a picture of their third-grade teacher in a wedding dress. “You follow her on Instagram?” he questioned. She shrugged, “I follow her daughter. She was always nice to me.” “Yeah, I remember Monica. She was hot,” he thought out loud, which caused Y/N to hit him with the back of her hand. “Don’t worry. She can never be as beautiful as you. Have you ever thought of what you would want for your wedding?“ She said, “Small wedding, extravagant marriage.” He chuckled, looking down at her with a loving smile. “Aren’t those the same thing?” Her head shook, “No. A wedding, for me, is a party to celebrate the union. A marriage is a lifelong commitment.” His arm wrapped around his waist. “That made no sense, but I will do whatever you want,” he whispered with his lips pressed against her temple.

———

“Dude, what’s taking you so long?” Topper’s voice pulls Rafe out of his memories. Rafe blinks back the tears and places the invitation back onto the desk. He and Y/N broke up five years ago, yet a small part of him always thought they would find their way back to her. She is the love of his life and all because of one small mistake he made, he never gets to be her lifelong love again. It feels like some mistakes aren’t meant to be fixed. He picks up the second PS5 controller from the dresser and leaves the room with a newfound emptiness.

———

He knows he shouldn’t be here. It is definitely not his place to be sneaking around the church to look for her. Yet another thing that is wrong with this scene. Y/N loves the beach and it was one of the reasons why she decided to do her graduate degree in Australia. He catches a glimpse of white lace stepping into a room and the door closes after the bridesmaid and mothers of the couple leave the room. He overhears a bridesmaid saying that Y/N needed a moment to herself. His grin struggles to break through his stoic expression.

The tap on the door causes her to spin toward the sound. She takes a deep breath, already struggling to keep her tears in check so she doesn’t ruin her makeup. “I-I really need a moment to myself, please,” she croaks out. She wants to groan when the person behind the door ignores her pleas and enters anyway. Even though it isn’t her preferred wedding look, she still looks beautiful in the vintage lace wedding dress. The long flowy sleeves make her look like a goddess. The lace reaches up to her collarbone and it is a little too high for his liking. Their eyes meet and he gives her a small smile, “I know you need a second; however, I don’t know if I’ll still have the courage to do this after one.” Her heart stops at not only the sight of him but also the scent of him. Even after all these years, the leathery smell of his cologne makes her feel at home. “What are you doing here?” she questions, fighting the urgent to step forward. He does it for them, “He is the something new, so I’m here to be your something old.” She giggles with a shake of her head. “I think that tradition was referencing objects, not humans,” she advises. “Seriously, though, what are you doing here, Rafe?” His hand falls to the back of his neck. “Do you really want to marry him?” he asks, eyes falling to his shoes.

“Of… of course, why wouldn’t I? I love Hudson.”

“You don’t sound very sure about that, Honey. Do you think maybe you are getting cold feet?”

“You don’t get to ask me that, not when we haven’t spoken to each other in years.”

Her downcast eyes tell him he is right. He risks taking a step further, reaching out to rest his hand above her elbow. The warmth of his hand has her wanting to melt against it. “You aren’t upset about us not talking, not really. Ask me what you want to ask,” he whispers with his lips touching the shell of her ear. She leans back to look him in the eyes, “Why didn’t you want to leave with me? Why be here now when you were the one to end us because you didn’t want to move to Australia with me?” He brings his palm up to rest on her cheek and gives her a meek smile. Tears begin to well over the edge of his eyes as he thinks about how he is the reason why she is getting ready to walk down the aisle to someone else. “I was an idiot. I was young and thought I needed my father’s approval more than I needed love. And I am so so sorry that I made that decision, which hurt you, Honey. But I promise you if you give me another chance, then I won’t be stupid enough to let you go again,” he vows, his thumb kissing her cheekbone. A deep breath falls out of her mouth, “I can’t, I’m supposed to get married today.” Nails dig into his heart, slowly tearing it apart to leave him for dead until a glint coming from just below her collarbone catches his attention.

He grasps drops to the oval locket hanging on a chain from her neck. Engraved flowers surrounded both of their initials at the front and he props it open to see his favourite picture of them still safe inside. Since they broke up, he thought she would’ve gotten rid of the necklace he gave her on their first anniversary. The symbol that he is serious about their relationship and has left behind his player ways. His gaze burns a hole into his gift to her, “How can I take your words seriously when the symbol of my love is around your neck on the day you are meant to marry the supposed love of your life? Tell me something, Honey, does he know his skin is pressing against a gift from me while he makes love to you?”

Her eyes widen at his realization and silence falls in the room. He can see her thoughts spin around in her brain. “Is it cold in here?” she whispered, causing Rafe’s head to tilt till a smile craved itself on her face. “I think I need to go warm up in your Benz.” She laces her fingers through his and picks up the bottom of her dress. They both dash out of the room, running in the direction of the car. He tries to be as quiet as possible, except her giggles make their location known. Staff members’ heads follow the couple’s movement as they run down the hallway. Once the breeze from the wind hits their face, he unlocks the door to his vintage blue Benz that he got because she loved how the colour matched his eyes. He jumps over the driver’s side door and leans over to open the passenger’s door for her. Her laughter causes his heart to flutter. As soon as she is safely buckled into her seat, he quickly pulls out of the parking spot. Rafe can’t stop himself from smirking after spotting who he assumes is Hudson, jogging out of the church with an exasperated and confused look on his face. Y/N yells over her shoulder, “I’m so sorry, Hudson. I’ll explain everything later.”

They drive until the church is out of sight. He chances a glance at her whilst he stops at a red light. The massive grin on her face causes flowers to bloom in his heart. She looks at him and places her hand over the gear shift so he can lace his fingers with hers. He brings her knuckles to her lips. “I’m not growing old with him,” she states. He can’t help but beam himself, “Good because I’m the only one who gets to be your something old and new.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura

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pgmdress · 11 months

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WD447 is a captivating wedding dress with beautiful lace appliques that lends a see-through silhouette. The mermaid cut and rustic lace create a romantic look for your special day. The long sleeves add to the rustic charm, with the perfect balance of class and elegance.

#pgmdress #wedding dresses #mermaid wedding dresses #lace wedding dresses #long sleeve wedding dresses #rustic wedding dresses #boho wedding dresses #bridal gowns #vintage wedding dresses

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somedaywewillshinetogether · 2 months

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vintage heart & ribbon knit long sleeve dress

#somedaywewillshinetogether #french brand #y2k

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lunss-couture · 1 year

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Black Lace Overlay & White Satin Inner Long Bridal Dress

Vintage-inspired black floral lace overlaid wedding dress with white satin inner. The button-back top features a sheer high neck and long sleeves. A long sash crowns the A-line skirt that opens in a front slit adorned with exquisite lace trim.

#Black #Lace #Evening Dress #Long Sleeve #Lunss #Vintage #Black Bridal Dress

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sanjisjuul · 15 days

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Say Please!

Summary: You're a burlesque dancer and you spot Sanji in the crowd

Cw: Where do I start... fem reader, sub Sanji, cursing, smoking, you step on him, choking, slapping, nipple play, pussy eating, vaginal penetration

Note: I'm sorry I'm so inconsistent on here! It's hard with school and work, but I'm glad I could post something that I really enjoy!

Word count: 3.4k

Mini 18+

Cigarette smoke clouds the dingy locker room, the clouds circling around you and evaporating into the hot, sticky air. You roll the fabric of your black fishnets into your hands before pulling them up the expanse of your leg. The once-exhilarating feeling of getting ready for a show has turned into a mundane routine. Every Saturday, you sit in the same spot at your little vanity, placing hot rollers into your hair and intricately lining your eyelids and lips, all while swaying your head to the muffled jazz music playing in the background.

You enjoyed being a burlesque dancer; the glitz and glamor of it all is intoxicating. The extravagancy of the hair, the makeup, and the outfits makes you feel alive. The hot gazes of pathetic men as you dance your routines make you feel untouchable. and untouchable you are, because no matter how many men wait outside for you after shows or offer you a drink after a routine, you always politely decline. You do, however, enjoy teasing them; you love the looks on their faces as you sway your hips, their jaws slacking when you remove items of clothing; it's exhilarating and quite honestly turns you on.

“Y/N, 5 minutes to showtime!” You hear a voice call out to you as you buckle on your heels, standing to stare in the mirror. You smile, as you’re quite pleased with your appearance tonight. hair perfectly curled in a vintage curl pattern, your lips tightly lined and filled in a ruby red to match your sparkling red corset and panties. You slip your matching feathery robe over your body, followed by your black silk gloves. You pin a large feather into your hair before grabbing your fans and shuffling backstage.

Cheers and whistles are heard over the band as one of your coworkers finishes up a routine. She looks amazing as she smiles at the crowd as she blows a kiss, exiting stage left. You clap along with the audience, cheering for your fellow dancer, before your announcement starts. You strut onto the stage, the lights illuminating you and causing your skin to heat up. The crowd erupts in applause before the band starts to play.

You start with your back turned to the audience, swaying your hips to the music before twirling around. You smile to the crowd, slowly covering your fans over your body. Your eyes scan over the audience as you pulse your fans. You see some regulars, eyes locked on your figure as they sip their scotch. Some new faces appear as well: a group of men sitting in the right corner, faces heating up at the very sight of you, but your eyes lock on one person. Dead center, a man sits at a table alone; his legs are crossed as he takes a long drag of his cigarette. You mentally decide to nickname him Blondie, as his golden locks cover one side of his face. From the side, you can make out that he’s quite handsome with defined features. His jawline is well accentuated, although you can tell he’s tightly clenching his teeth together. He’s dressed in a suit, the maroon jacket thrown over the back of the chair, leaving him in a black button-down and white tie. His sleeves are rolled up past his black gloves, revealing his forearms to you. He wears matching maroon pants and black dress shoes. Good thing for you; you’re a sucker for a well-dressed man.

You tear your eyes away, deciding to pick on him a bit later. While continuing your routine, you twirl your fans around your body, the air whirling around you somewhat cooling you and relieving the burn of the harsh stage lights. You drop your fans, latching your fingers to the first glove, pulling it off ever so slowly before discarding it behind you. You latch your teeth to the next one, unconsciously locking eyes with the blonde as you tug it off seductively. A light blush coats his face as you twirl the glove and toss it.

You walk downstage, wrapping your hands around the tie of your robe, before undoing the knot, shimmying the fabric off your body, and letting it pool around your feet. Whistles and cheers erupt as you turn around, strutting back towards center stage and bending over, giving the audience access to marvel at your ass.

Nothing in the world could compare to the feeling you get on stage; it's high like no other. You love the feeling of having men absolutely lust after you as you dance and strip for them. You love the way their hungry eyes watch your every move. Tonight, you were most excited to have Blondie’s eyes on you. You feel his burning gaze on your backside as you lift your body back up, turning to face the audience once again.

You point a finger out, beckoning for the newcomer to approach you. His eyes widen in disbelief, looking around him to make sure he’s the target. He lifts himself off the chair, walking nervously towards you. You bend down on the balls of your toes as he comes closer. grabbing him by the tie as you pull him on stage. You can hear the grumbles from the audience as they wish they were so lucky to be in his shoes.

A chair is pushed on stage. devilishly smirking, you drag him over to it before pushing him down to sit. He looks absolutely astonished, his pupils blown and his face beat red as he adjusts his tie, Adam’s apple bobbing as he tries to gain composure. You turn around, arching your back to give him access to your corset, ass dangerously close to sitting on his lap. He gets the idea, swiftly biting his gloves off before reaching his shaky hands to loosen your corset. You smirk as it drops to the ground. turning first towards the audience as they marvel at your almost bare chest. You grin ear to ear as you shimmy, your nipple tassels shaking along with your breasts.

You turn back towards Blondie, who looks as if he’s about to cum in his pants. You settle yourself over his lap before taking a seat. Your eyes widen as you can feel a bulge through his pants. You’d be lying if this scenario didn’t turn you on as well. It’s not so often you get to tease an audience member as attractive as this one. paired with his fluster, you couldn’t be more excited as you ground your hips on him, pressing your chest towards his face. His breath hitches in his throat as his hands tense at his sides. The loud music comes to its climax behind you, so you turn around, bend down in front of him, and ghost your ass over his lap. You can tell he’s enjoying this; the sound of his groan is audible to only you.

You lean back into his lap, bringing your back to his chest and grabbing his tie once again. You roll your hips rhythmically, bringing your lips to his ear. “What’s your name, Blondie?” you half yell and half whisper, tugging his tie so he can hear you. “Sanji,” he breathes out, almost stuttering over his own name. “Hmm,” you respond, knowing you need to cut the conversation short to finish your routine. “Meet me at the back door when the show ends.” You let him go, grabbing his hand and directing him off stage before grabbing your fans off of the stage and finishing up.

The choreography almost slips your mind as arousal takes its place. You go through the motions as you wave your fans around once again, shimmying and twirling. Once the music ends, you hold your fans up high, smiling as the audience applauds your routine. You wink at Mr. Blondie before shuffling off stage, being greeted with a bottle of water by one of your coworkers.

You make sure to thank everybody’s praise, high-fiving the next dancers, before pushing the dressing room door open. “Quite the show,” you hear a voice from beside you. You snap your head in the direction of your friend and fellow dancer, Nami. “Jesus, you scared me!” You laugh as you unbuckle your heels, kicking them off by your station. "It seems like you had a good time,” she winks at you through her mirror as she takes bobby pins out of her hair. You roll your eyes. “Let me live; he was hot!” She cringes at your words, turning to face you. “The only thing men are good for is their money; besides that, they can’t provide anything.” You smirk at her words. “I don’t know about that,” you wink. She groans, turning back towards the mirror. “You’re gross.” You both laugh as you take off your outfits and get into something more comfortable.

You leave on your panties and heels, peeling off your pasties and slipping on a white t-shirt, which you could most definitely see through. You take a seat at your station, anxiously pulling out a cigarette and lighting it as you await the dancers exits. Slowly but surely everybody leaves, and one after the other, you say your goodbyes as they exit the dressing room. To your surprise, nobody really questioned why you were staying; either they were blissfully ignorant or Nami opened her big mouth (you knew it was the latter).

You grin as the last girl exits, running over to lock the door behind her. At this hour, mostly everybody had gone home, aside from some bartenders and managers, but to your delight, they never dared to come back into the dressing room. You approach the back door, grinning as you push it open softly. And there he stands, back to you, smoke twirling around his frame. You cross your arms, leaning against the heavy door. “Did you enjoy the show?”

He snaps his head around in surprise, noticeably eyeing you up and down with a blush still littered across his face. “Yeah,” he sheepishly smiles, “it was fantastic.” You grab one of his hands, "Why don't you come in?” He follows you, taking a seat in your chair, not bothering to take in his surroundings. His eyes stay trained on you, wide and almost in surprise, as you come to straddle his lap.

“i’m glad you liked it, Sanji." You purr out his name as one arm wraps around the back of his neck, the other reaching for his still-lit cigarette. His eyes follow your movements as you lift the stick to your mouth and inhale, blowing the smoke into his face before placing it back in between his lips. You can feel that he’s still aroused underneath you. his erection poking your inner thigh as his shaky hands ghost over your waist. You flip your hair over your shoulder, "What would you say was your favorite part?” You bring your lips to his neck, inhaling his cologne, before pressing soft kisses and licks along his skin.

He twitches underneath you. “Y-you,” he stutters out, “you were so amazing, so beautiful.” You hum in approval, the vibration of it causing him to let out a soft groan. “So sensitive,” you giggle before lifting your head to look back into his now half-lidded eyes. “You were my favorite part too,” you say, tapping his nose. “I’ve never brought up an audience member before,” you grin at him, to which he reciprocates. “Well, I’m honored to be the first madam,” he beams.

“You wanna have some fun,” you say, gripping his tie and pulling his face close to yours. You love this; being in full control. He looks so helpless underneath you as he nods his head frantically, eyeing your lips. You waste no further time, wrapping your hand in his tie and pulling his lips into yours.

You hum into the feeling of your lips melting together, and his hands plant themselves on your waist. You immediately open your mouth, allowing him to push his tongue past your lips, to which he moans. You stay like that for a moment, and the sounds of your lips smacking echo throughout the dressing room as you rock into each other's clothed sexes.

You break the kiss all too suddenly, leaving him panting and whimpering for more. You unwrap your arms from him, standing over him. “Get on your knees,” you command, to which he immediately obliges, dropping to his knees in front of you. He stares up at you desperately, a pure look of desire painted on his flushed face. You lift your leg up, sticking your heel into his chest and pushing him onto his back. He doesn’t resist, his body falling back onto the carpet with a thud. His hands fall to their sides, not bothering to brace his fall. Your heel comes into contact with his thigh, sliding it up to press on his cock. “You like that?” you question, digging in a bit harder, but not hard enough to cause any real pain. He nods erratically, his hands balling into fists as his hips twinge up into your touch. “Oh my god, yes,” he groans, his teeth clenching together as he fights the urge to cum right then and there.

Once you’re satisfied, you lift your foot off of him, and he whines at the loss of contact. You position yourself over his face. Before you can act further, Sanji’s hoarse voice comes from underneath you. “Let me taste you, please,” he begs, his hands coming to grip your ankles. You giggle before bending down, hovering over his face. “Go ahead, pretty boy.” You plant yourself directly on his face, not bothering to give him room to breathe. And to your delight, he doesn’t mind, bringing his large hands to grip your ass and breathe in your scent. His breath trembles as he exhales, his cock twitching in his pants, precum soaking the front of his pants.

He nips and licks the insides of your thighs as your chest heaves above him. You clench around nothing when he presses kisses on your cunt through your soaked panties. He whimpers from your taste, the corners of your lips twinging upwards in delight. You grip his hair, tugging his face further into your cunt. "Look at me." His pretty blue eyes stare up at you as he continues to please you. The sight of him trapped beneath you is delightful. He looks so pathetic like this, face buried in your clothed sex, drunk on your scent, hips rutting up into nothing just the way you had planned.

You reach down and pull your panties to the side, giving him full access to what he desires. He hums into your cunt, his lips wrapping around your clit and sucking softly. You grind your hips into his face, sighing at the feeling of his hot, warm mouth on your most sensitive area. “Just like that baby,” you egg him on, his tongue now swirling around you in sloppy circles. Your eyes are screwed shut in bliss, and your focus is now on the way he expertly uses his tongue. You grasp his shirt, your knuckles turning white as you feverishly get off on his face. He holds onto you for dear life, his fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your thighs.

The feeling of orgasm creeps up on you quickly as he sets a steady pace, allowing you to do as you please while he lies helpless underneath you. “I’m close,” you whine, your body trembling and your legs turning to jelly. He quickly removes a hand from your thigh, bringing a finger towards your entrance and inserting, it into your greedy hole. “Oh shit,” you clench your jaw, his finger finding your g spot almost immediately as he twists his finger in and out of you. Black specks fill your vision, your core tenses as the most powerful orgasm of your life washes over your body. your mouth parts in utter bliss, your eyes rolling back all while spitting out chains of curses. You rest for a moment, Sanji’s movements coming to a halt as you mentally regroup.

“Was that good?” He questions you eagerly, licking your juices off his lips with a goofy smile. You lean down to kiss his forehead. “You did very well,” you praise, beginning to unbutton his shirt. You kiss each inch of skin to be revealed, leaving love bites along his defined chest. You look up to him as you lick over one of his nipples, bringing the other between your fingertips. He throws his head back as you suck harshly on his chest, his legs shaking in pleasure.

“Fuck me,” he cries above you, his hands reaching to grip your shoulders. You take his nipple between your teeth, softly biting the sensitive flesh before releasing it. “hm? I didn’t hear you,” you tease, climbing up his body to take his face between one of your hands. “Fuck me,” he begs, his hair sticking to his forehead. You release your grip on his face, testing the waters further. “Say, please,” you command, slapping him straight across the face. He moans in pleasure at the connection, his head turning to the side as his hips twitch. “Please, love, please fuck me.”

You decide to give in; after all, he has been such a good boy for you. and you let him know, reaching down to undo his belt. You lick your lips as you tug his pants down his waist, surprised by the sight. “Oh my, look at the mess you made,” you coo, smirking at boxers absolutely soaked in cum. He covers his face in embarrassment, looking away. “I’m sorry.. I couldn’t help it.” You ignore his apology, tugging his boxers down. His cock is still as hard as ever, slapping his abdomen and leaving a wet spot slightly above his belly button.

“Ready?” you question, tugging your shirt over your head, tossing it behind you, settling over his length, but not yet giving him contact. “Mhm,” he hums, shaking his head and pushing your hair out of your face. You position yourself over his waist, grabbing his cock and guiding it inside of you. You groan simultaneously as you sink down, his cock filling you to the brim. “You’re so tight,” he croaks, his hands coming to cup your breasts to stabilize himself. You laugh, grinding your hips and throwing your head back in ecstasy. “You like that, pretty?” you question, setting a slow pace to begin. He takes a moment to answer, fighting back the whimpers to vocalize an answer. “Feels s’good.”

He attempts to raise his hips to meet yours, to which you lean forward, wrapping your smaller hand around his throat and forcing him to look you in the face. “Did you ask to do that?” You raise an eyebrow, squeezing lightly. He halts his movements and swallows, "No, ma’am.” You bring your lips to his ear, biting, causing goosebumps to spread across his skin. “Why don’t you ask nicely?” He quivers, “Please let me fuck you, my love, please!” You lean back, releasing your grip on his throat. “Good boy.” You finally let him take some sort of control as he gripped your ass. He plants his heels into the ground, lifting his hips to meet yours. You cry out as you plant your hands on his chest, your nails digging into his flesh, surely leaving marks.

He ruts into you at a harsh pace, desperation getting the best of him as he chases his orgasm. “Oh, Sanji,” you cry, his large cock hitting all of the right spots inside of you. “So beautiful,” he mutters, bringing a thumb to rub at your clit. You yell out at the feeling; your clit still sensitive from your orgasm. Sanji’s mouth is parted as he trains his gaze on where your bodies meet. The squelching of your mixed fluids echos around the room as you both near your highs. “Go ahead, Sanji, cum for me,” you encourage, holding his pretty face between your hands. His pace becomes erratic, his hips sputtering, before he deeply moans. His whole body trembles as he cuts inside of you. His seed paints your walls, causing you to come undone for the second time under his ministrations.

You collapse onto his chest, letting your arms fall limp as he wraps his larger ones around your frame. You pant into each other, reveling in the aftermath of your orgasms. He rubs circles into your back, relaxing you to the point where you almost forget your setting. “You’re perfect,” he says, pressing a soft kiss into your hair and holding you tight. You smile into his shoulder, sweaty, exhausted, yet utterly delighted.

tags: @kibblz-n-bitz @bby-deerling @stardustcrustaders @pileofmush @willowbelle @bokutosbiceps @anemptypuddingcup @yoonavii

love bia ૮ • ﻌ - ა

#one piece fan fiction #one piece #one piece smut #sanji #sanji vinsmoke #sanji oneshot #vinsmoke sanji #sanji smut #sanji x reader #one piece sanji #black leg sanji #sanji x you #with: sanji #op sanji #love bia ૮ • ﻌ - ა⁩

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