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honnelander · 8 months

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go fish! part 2

guyssss i did NOT expect this little series to blow up. y'all are amazing! i'm turning into a Sanji writing blog and am i mad about it? no lmao i received a couple of requests and i'll work on them as soon as i can. i'm really in the zone rn so i'll ride this wave as long as i can. if you want to be a part of the taglist for whenever i post new Sanji content, lmk. i hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS: none

word count: 2.8k

pairing: opla!sanji x fem!reader

summary: after being humiliated by Usopp earlier, reader stays in her room to decompress. however, she gets a visitor.

prequel part 1 part 3 part 4 masterlist

taglist: @smolracoon25 @mischiefmanaged71 @jovialcat123

Mortified. That’s how you felt. Still.

Ever since you ‘forfeited’ from finishing your Go Fish card game with Usopp a couple of hours ago, you had taken your glass of water that Sanji had poured for you and boarded up in your shared room with Nami, refusing to come out due to “heat exhaustion”.

Poor Luffy, ever the golden hearted captain, was immediately worried for your wellbeing as soon as he heard that but after multiple reassurances from you and getting up off of your hammock multiple times to prove you were in fact, just fine, he relented from wanting to stop by the nearest island so he could find a doctor for you. Usopp had managed to convince him as well that all you needed was some water, alone time, and that you would be fine by dinnertime.

You rubbed your eyes as you let out a sigh, vowing to yourself that the next time you wanted some time by yourself, you should just take a bath or something, since any other excuse would cause someone on the crew (Luffy) to lose their mind at the thought of someone not feeling well.

You readjusted yourself, sitting more upright, as you downed the last of your water, it being warm by this point since it had been poured by Sanji hours ago.

Sanji. Ugh.

Your heart fluttered once again at the mere thought of him, but that flutter was immediately replaced by a wave of crashing embarrassment at the thought of the afternoon’s sequence of events. What had happened earlier wasn’t even anything that groundbreaking or special, but to you? It was everything. It wasn’t common practice in your life for the object of your affections to be so kind towards you, so thoughtful, to read and anticipate your needs before you even knew they were even there. But Sanji? He was all of that and more. And you didn’t even know him for that long! You’ve all been a part of the straw-hat crew for 5 months at this point and it felt silly to admit to yourself that you had developed a crush on one of your crewmates in that short amount of time.

And having feelings for your crewmate? Someone who you literally couldn’t get away from since you all were trapped on a ship together (not that you would ever want to be away from him or anyone else for that matter, besides Usopp, but still), it felt morally wrong. You guys were all a team. Sure, you all were off to sail around the world and chase dreams, but achieving all of that required teamwork and trust, and that was hard to do if two of those people were caught up with matters of the heart every hour of every day.

Like, what if things didn’t work out in the end? Would you really want to put the crew’s dynamic at stake just because you thought the blonde guy was cute? No, you wouldn’t. It would be selfish so you would never dare to put yourself or Sanji in that position. No matter how much you liked him.

So as much as it pained you, you could never tell Sanji how you feel. You would never cross that line of being a ‘professional pirate’ into something more, like a pirate wife. Or a pirate chef’s wife.

It definitely didn’t help that freaking Usopp of all people on the crew knew about your affections for Sanji. Ugh, you groaned. He was the absolute worst person to know about it too. Why did he have to figure it out? Why did he have to be the one that had put two and two together to equal four? That your random bouts of awkwardness and shyness plus ‘heart eyes’ and blushes whenever Sanji was around equaled to you having a forbidden crush on the crew’s chef? It was embarrassing. And complicated.

He loved to stir the pot too, so whenever he could tease you for it when you both were alone or in front of a clueless Sanji, he would. You remembered the kiss he had shared with Kayla back when the straw-hats had acquired the Going Merry, so you definitely jabbed him right back when you had had enough, since part of you felt guilty for it since Kayla was thousands of miles away and Sanji lived on this ship with you. Your situations were slightly similar but completely different.

Also, completely different in the way that him and Kayla were basically dating at this point, albeit long distance, and had shared a kiss while you could barely sustain eye contact that lasted more than 5 seconds with Sanji.

You were hopeless.

“Knock, knock,” a familiar accented voice came through the closed door. “Y/n? Are you awake?”

"Sanji?” you blurted out in complete surprise.

Shit. You weren’t mentally prepared to see him just yet. At all. You were still replaying the interaction you both had earlier in your head, your overthinking mind going over every minute detail to figure out if Usopp’s careless teasing had given away your affections.

Usopp, you mentally ground out. You were going to kill him. Sanji had never stopped by your room before so what on earth was he doing here now?

Suddenly, a thought struck you like a bolt of lightning and made your stomach drop fifty miles below sea level: if Sanji had specifically stopped by your room just to gently let you down, that no, in fact he did not feel the same way about you, that he only thought of you as a member of the crew and nothing more....then yeah, you were definitely going to kill Usopp and throw him overboard.

Before you could mentally plot out more details on Usopp's murder, the door opened and the straw-hat chef’s blonde head appeared. His eyes quickly scanned Nami’s empty hammock on the room’s left side before turning his head to the right, his blue eyes immediately finding your surprised ones, a (relieved?) smile lighting up his face at the sight of you.

“So, I take it you’re awake?” Sanji asked in a light, teasing tone but not making an effort to move himself away from the doorway.

“Uh, y-eah,” you stuttered out in surprise as you just stared at him dumbfounded. You still couldn’t figure out why he was here.

Sanji continued to lock eyes with you, making your cheeks flush the longer you both stared at each other, and your palms sweat as the silence stretched on, making the tension in the air become thicker by the second. He blinked, his eyes darting to the side in confusion, raising an eyebrow as he asked, “May I come in?”

“OH! Yes, of course- sorry,” you stuttered as you waved him inside, sitting up in your hammock and mentally face palmed yourself. Of course, Sanji was waiting on you to invite him inside. Like always, he was acting like a true gentleman. “Please, come in. Have a seat. Sorry, that was rude of me. Make yourself at home.”

Sanji stood up to his full height and walked into your room with an easy smile and a small laugh, closing the door behind him. “Ah, don’t ever apologize y/n. You could never be rude to me,” Sanji rebuttalled and waved off your apology as he looked around and took in your very plain and basic shared room with Nami.

Your room, or side of the room more specifically, wasn’t much to brag about considering you really didn’t have much to your name but for now, it was home to you. Your side consisted of your hammock, a wooden barrel next to it to act as a makeshift nightstand that housed your only book, a journal, and a lamp, along with an empty wooden crate to act as a makeshift seat and another to hold some of your other clothes and small travel bag. Nami’s side was similar to yours but had a touch more personality as she hung up some maps she found at various markets and drew up herself on her wall.

You swallowed, suddenly feeling a tad self-conscious about the lack of things in your room considering your current guest was dressed, as usual, to the nines in his signature black suit and blue and white striped shirt complete with a skinny black tie. “Sorry for the sad state of my room-”

“Sad?” Sanji stopped admiring your room and snapped his gaze to look at you. His eyebrows pulled together as another confused smile adorned his features. “Why would you say that? Your room isn’t sad, I like it. It’s a reflection of you,” his next words came out softer, “and I think that’s beautiful.”

You could feel heat crawling up your neck at his words as you busied yourself with placing the empty glass in your hand on your barrel nightstand. There was no way Sanji was calling you beautiful, he was just commenting on your room. With Nami. On your shared room that owed any ounce of ‘personality’ to the ship’s navigator because it was obvious you literally brought nothing special to this room whatsoever.

You stopped yourself from spiraling into ‘I don’t bring anything special to the straw-hats, I don’t know why they keep me around’ thoughts because now wasn’t the time to think about any of that. Those dark thoughts were reserved when you couldn’t sleep in the middle of the night.

As you placed the glass on the nightstand, you asked, “So, what brings you all the way to my room? Aren’t you usually prepping for dinner around this time?”

Sanji’s eyes followed your hand and lit up when he saw the sole book on your nightstand. “Oh, a book? I didn’t know you liked to read.” His megawatt smile lit up a couple of notches as his eyes sparkled, he looked like he had just learned one of the universe’s greatest mysteries as he took a seat near you on an empty crate. “What book is that?”

“Oh, that?” You mentally deflated at the fact you now had to tell Sanji about your favorite book, “It’s Pride and Prejudice.”

You weren’t ashamed of having that book specifically, you loved it and it was your favorite book of all time, you had lost count at how many times you had read it at this point, but it was the fact that you now had to share this part of yourself with the guy you fancied. Guys normally scoffed and turned their nose up at romance book and romantic things, so you were bracing for Sanji to scoff and laugh at you like all the other guys did (like even Zoro and Usopp did when they first saw you reading it) but it never came.

Instead, Sanji’s smile remained bright. “Ah, so you’re a lover of classic romances? Pride and Prejudice? Romeo and Juliet?”

Immediately, you smiled, finding yourself instantly comfortable suddenly whenever you got to talk about one of your favorite things. “Absolutely. I don’t think there’s a problem big enough out there that love can’t solve. Family backgrounds? Wealth and status? At the end of the day, none of that stuff matters. What matters is if two people love each other.”

Sanji stayed quiet for a moment, looking into your eyes with a twinkle of an emotion that you couldn’t decipher. It made your heart skip a beat. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly, never breaking eye contact. “I agree.”

You swallowed. “You like this stuff too? Have you read Pride and Prejudice?”

Sanji blinked and that indescribable emotion he had in his eyes was gone. His smile remained, however, and became sheepish as he held up his hands, “Ah ok, you caught me. I’ve never read the full thing, but I know the main parts of the story. My favorite part that I did read though, was the first dinner with Mr. Collins and he complimented the Bennets on their ‘excellent boiled potatoes’.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head slightly as you teased, “I should’ve known that the chef of the Going Merry’s favorite part of the book is when food is discussed!”

The blonde cook held his hands up again with a good-natured laugh, “Ah, you got me!” His face softened as he asked, “What about you?" He nodded towards the book. "What’s your favorite part?”

You paused for a second as you mulled the question over. “Well, I'm not sure if you know about this part since you never read the book...”

“Try me,” he encouraged softly.

Your face turned to the side, your eyes looking at the wooden wall to your right, unable to bring yourself to look at Sanji as you told him your favorite part of your favorite book. You took a deep breath to steady yourself and calm your nerves, your voice becoming quiet as you told him, “My favorite part is...when Mr. Darcy barges in on Elizabeth for the first time, while she’s at her friend Charlotte’s house writing a letter. He had come to practice ‘conversating’ with her since he admitted that it wasn’t something he was good at and she had told him to practice it. So, Mr. Darcy just barged in and they had one of the most painfully awkward conversations ever...and he did all that just because he loves her. He did something he hated and was bad at, and opened himself up to embarrassment just because he wanted to improve and be better for her. It’s so romantic and beautiful.”

The air was quiet after your mini monologue and for a moment, nothing could be heard except for their quiet breathing and the occasional crash of the ocean from outside your small window.

Part of you worried that your little rambling had bored Sanji, so when you finally looked at him, imagine your surprise when you found him leaning in towards you, hands clasped, elbows resting on his knees and his eyes watching you, completely engaged. It was like he was hanging onto your every word.

Sanji scanned your face for a moment, the corner of his lips curling upwards as he said, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not familiar with that part in the book,” and before you could open your mouth to bring yourself down, he continued, “but, that doesn’t mean your answer is wrong.” He leaned back and slapped his hands against his thighs, “Hell, it’s a much more insightful answer than mine!” He laughed. “I just liked how they were poking some fun at boiled potatoes.”

You laughed with him because yes, that part in the book also made you laugh as well. But at the mention of food, you realized that you still didn’t know why Sanji was here in the first place. Wasn’t he normally prepping for dinner at this time? He had to be running behind schedule at this point.

“Why are you here, Sanji? Isn’t it almost time for dinner?”

“Yeah, it is actually but I heard you weren’t feeling well so I wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re feeling alright and see if you have any special requests for dinner?”

You couldn’t help the slight smile that overtook your face, trying to hide the blush at the fact that he was kind enough to check in on you and offer to practically be your own personal chef for the evening.

You hummed for a moment, acting like you were deep in thought before asking with a raised eyebrow, "And what would you say if I requested some boiled potatoes?”

The smile that lit up the chef’s face was priceless. He had never looked more beautiful. “To that, I would say ‘Absolutely. If that’s what the missus wants, then that is what the missus will get.’”

Missus. There it was again. You felt all warm inside whenever he called you that, it made you feel like he was your husband and that you were his wife. But that wasn’t the case. Sanji definitely must have called other women that before. You weren’t special to him, he was just being polite.

You swallowed down your emotions, putting your sudden wave of sadness away for later, putting on a small smile. “Then that sounds perfect. I would like to formally request some ‘excellent boiled potatoes’ as a side for dinner, please.”

If Sanji noticed your sudden change in mood, he didn’t show it. Instead, he grinned as he said, “Excellent choice, Madam. Boiled potatoes, coming right up.” As he stood up and made his way towards your door, Sanji did one of the most unexpected things that nearly knocked the wind out of you. With his left hand on the doorknob he said, “And don’t worry, Madam. I’ll sprinkle in a little bit of extra love in there,” he turned and winked at you, “just for you.”

With that, Sanji left your room, gently closing the door behind him, leaving you completely dumbstruck in your room, your mouth agape and body frozen.

Did Sanji just say he loved you?

You shook your head, because there was no way he did, right? He said he’d ‘sprinkle in some extra love’ into your potatoes, not 'I love you". You weren’t a chef, maybe that was a euphemism for something.

You sighed.

Those better be some good boiled potatoes.

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vipetas · 2 months

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i. the radio's revival

The worst possible scenario just unfolded before Alastor's eyes—his beloved antique radio broke.

He stood in stunned silence, his usual jovial expression replaced by one of utter disbelief as the once-majestic device now lay in pieces, its intricate components scattered across the floor. With a heavy heart, he knelt beside the shattered remnants, his gloved fingers tracing the familiar contours with a sense of mourning.

It was a futile gesture, he knew, but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss for the part of himself that had been taken away with it. For Alastor, the radio was more than just a mere object; it was a piece of his identity. Each scratch, each dent held a story, a memory of a bygone era that now lay at ruins at his feet.

In that moment, he felt more vulnerable than ever before, stripped of the facade of invincibility he had carefully cultivated over decades. However, as he surveyed the damage, the vulnerability was quickly replaced by a flood of other emotions–anger, frustration, disappointment. How could something so precious, so irreplaceable, be lost in an instant?

The faint sound of shuffling feet then drew his attention. As he gazed up, one of the egg boys—those bumbling, loyal lackeys of Sir Pentious—timidly stepped forward with a sheepish expression.

“Uh, sorry about that, mister Radio Demon, sir. It was an accident,” the egg boy mumbled, his voice tinged with guilt.

Alastor's eye twitched in annoyance at the feeble excuse. Accidents were one thing, but this? This was inexcusable. His patience, already stretched thin, threatened to snap as he struggled to contain his frustration.

“Sorry?” Alastor repeated through gritted teeth. “Sorry won’t fix what’s been broken, now will it?”

The egg boys exchanged nervous glances, their carefree demeanor faltering under Alastor's withering gaze. “We didn't mean to, Mr. Alastor,” another one of them stammered.

Yet it was far too late for apologies. Alastor's frustration bubbled over like a pot ready to boil, and with a growl of irritation, his form began to shift. With each passing second, his horns extended, his body swelled in size, and his once elegant silhouette towered over the trembling egg boys like a vengeful deity.

The egg boys recoiled in terror, their eyes wide with horror as they watched Alastor's transformation unfold before them. In their panicked mind, they could only imagine the worst—that Alastor, in his fury, would devour them whole.

Just as their fear reached its peak, Sir Pentious burst onto the scene. Positioning himself between the egg boys and the Radio Demon, his voice rang out in a chorus of apologies.

“Mr. Alastor, sir, I must beg for your forgiveness on behalf of my hapless egg boys,” he pleaded desperately. “They meant no harm, I assure you. It was a mere accident, a foolish mistake!”

Alastor's gaze narrowed as he observed Sir Pentious. As the snake demon continued to shower him with apologies, Alastor suddenly remembered the reason they were all gathered here in the first place—a party, of all things. With a wry smile, he glanced around at the other residents of the hotel, noting the fear etched onto their faces. The sight of their unease might've amused him under different circumstances, but the loss of something so precious to him soured his mood.

With a shake of his head, he allowed his form to shrink back to its normal size. As his horns receded and his imposing presence diminished, he felt the tension ebb from his body, the anger gradually fading away.

But that didn’t mean that all was forgiven.

“What, pray tell, am I supposed to do with my broken radio now?” Alastor's voice dripped with barely contained frustration as he shot a piercing gaze at Sir Pentious.

Sir Pentious, visibly sweating under the weight of Alastor's glare, scrambled to offer a solution. “Ah, well, fear not,�� he stuttered, his words coming out in a nervous rush. “I happen to know a mechanic—a fixer, if you will. Someone who can repair anything, no matter how... delicate.”

Alastor's eyebrow arched in skepticism, though a faint flicker of interest danced in his eyes. "Is that so?" he mused, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He had his doubts about Sir Pentious' ability to deliver on such a promise, but at this point, he was willing to entertain any possibility.

“And where can I find this mechanic of yours?”

Following the instructions scribbled hastily on the back of a crumpled receipt, Alastor eventually found himself in the slums of Pentagram City. The narrow alleyways led him to what appeared to be a workshop, its exterior bearing the signs of neglect and decay. The windows were grimy, patches of paint flaked off the weathered walls, and the sign above the entrance barely hung on by a single rusty nail.

It was a far cry from the elegance he was accustomed to, and he couldn't help but feel a familiar surge of anger rising within him. This was the place that was supposed to hold the solution to his problem? The Radio Demon scoffed inwardly, doubting that anyone within these walls possessed the skill or expertise to repair something as delicate as his beloved radio.

Still, he pressed on. Pushing open the creaking door, he was met with a gust of stale air, tinged with the scent of oil and metal. Inside, the workshop was a scene of disarray. Tools lay scattered across workbenches, and half-finished projects cluttered every available surface. The walls were lined with shelves overflowing with spare parts, some of which appeared to be salvaged from long-forgotten machinery.

Alastor's lips curled into a disdainful sneer as he absorbed the surroundings. Then, his gaze fell upon the lone figure, hunched over a nearby table—you.

As he drew closer, you finally looked up, and to Alastor's surprise, you greeted him with a wide smile.

“Hi there! What can I do for you?”

Alastor's sneer deepened at the sight of the chipper mechanic, a stark contrast to the grim atmosphere of the workshop. He had half-expected to find someone as worn down and weathered as the building itself, yet here stood this bright-eyed individual, seemingly unfazed by the chaos around them.

Suppressing a sigh, Alastor straightened up, the edges of his grin faltering ever so slightly. “Good evening,” he began. “My name is Alastor, and I'm here because I was told you might be able to fix something for me.”

Your smile widened at his words, and you nodded eagerly. “Of course! What seems to be the problem?”

Alastor hesitated for a moment, eyeing you warily. He couldn't shake the feeling that entrusting his precious radio to you was a mistake. Yet, he had little choice in the matter.

“My antique radio is in need of repair,” Alastor explained, his tone guarded. “It's a delicate piece of machinery, and I require someone with the utmost skill to handle it.”

You listened intently as Alastor detailed the intricacies of his radio, nodding along with each word. Despite his cautious demeanor, you could sense the underlying concern in his voice. It was clear that this radio held great significance to him.

As he finished speaking, you gave him another nod. “I understand, Mr. Alastor,” you reassured him. “You won't be disappointed, I promise. Now, let's take a look at what you've got there.”

With that, you gestured for Alastor to follow you to your workbench, where he finally presented the fragmented piece of machinery. As you laid eyes on the broken radio, it became immediately apparent to you just how extensively damaged it was. Fractured casings, tangled wires, missing components–it was a daunting sight, yet you refrained from revealing the true severity of the damage to Alastor, not wanting to add to his distress. Instead, you maintained a composed demeanor as you turned to look at him with a confident grin.

“We'll get this sorted out, Mr. Alastor,” you assured him once more. “Leave it to me.”

Alastor felt a flicker of hope stir in his blackened heart at the prospect of having his radio fixed. Though a hint of doubt still lingered at the back of his mind, he nodded begrudgingly.

“Very well," he muttered. "Just... be careful with it.”

As Alastor stepped back, allowing you the space to work your magic, his eyes remained fixed on you with keen interest. He observed the fluidity of your movements, the subtle shifts in your expression. Whenever you encountered a challenge, your brows furrowed in concentration, and with each successful repair, a hint of satisfaction graced your lips. Alastor found himself unconsciously mirroring your expressions as he watched your steady hands diligently work to bring his beloved radio back to life.

And as time passed, so too did his initial skepticism begin to wane, replaced by a growing sense of admiration for your skill and expertise. There was something captivating about the way you worked, a sense of determination and passion that shone through with every meticulous movement.

At last, after what felt like an eternity, you made the final adjustment. With bated breath, you flicked the switch and awaited the outcome. The room fell into a tense silence, thick with anticipation. Then, suddenly, a burst of static erupted, followed by the unmistakable sound of music emanating from the speakers.

Alastor's eyes widened in disbelief as the once-silent device surged back to life. Your face lit up with a triumphant smile as you savored his reaction, a sense of pride swelling within you.

“There you go, Mr. Alastor,” you declared, extending the repaired radio toward him. “Good as new!”

As Alastor reached out to accept the radio from you, his fingers inadvertently brushed against yours in a fleeting moment of contact. In that instant, a jolt of electricity seemed to course through him, sending a distinct shiver down his spine.

It was a curious sensation, one that he couldn't quite place, yet it stirred something deep within him.

Even after withdrawing his hand, the feeling lingered, leaving Alastor perplexed. His gaze shifted from the repaired radio to your face, searching for any indication that you too had felt the same inexplicable energy pulse between you. However, your smile remained unchanged, oblivious to the tumult of emotions swirling within him.

“Thank you,” he finally murmured, his voice softer than usual, betraying a hint of sincerity that caught even him off guard. “You did a remarkable job.”

You beamed in response, your eyes alight with satisfaction at Alastor's words. “You're welcome,” you replied gently. “I'm glad I could be of help. And remember, if you ever need anything else, you know where to find me.”

Alastor offered a subtle nod of gratitude, though inwardly, he found himself oddly reluctant to leave. Nevertheless, he tucked the repaired radio under his arm and turned on his heel, heading towards the door. Stepping out into the dimly-lit street, he walked with deliberate steps. His thoughts drifted back to the moment his fingers brushed against yours, and despite his attempts to push the memory aside, his free hand instinctively flexed, fingers curling into a tight fist before relaxing once more.

This was going to be a problem.

part i / part ii

thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed<3

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor/reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel fluff #part 2?

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gloxk · 7 months

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Think she grippin’ on my dick but that’s my gun baby~

(Eren Y.)

A/n: Lil sum sum— srry fa neglecting yall. My schedule is so fuckkkkkeedd. But, I got sum more ‘plug’ eren comin up for my luvz. Anyway I hope yall enjoy this my luvz🫶🏽!

Synopsis: First link w Eren Yeager after not seeing him in a long time. ♥︎

Warning (s): Gun kink , dirty talk, Eren talking you through it, Mentions of drugs, riding an inanimate object, f/m, Uhm like reader calls him sir? Pet names, Needy s*x, Smut, ovi. girl yk the deal 17+ around here!

━━━━━━━♥︎━━━━━━━

You kicked your feet while biting your bottom lip, “Yeah, I know you miss me, baby.” You cheesed at his comments. Eren knew exactly what to say, his words were so sweet and slick. “Of course I miss you ren. When you gon come see me?” You heard his music blaring through his speakers. This boy really had you thinking about him every second of the day and night. “Whatchu mean? I’m outside right now ma.” You nearly took flight running down to the front door. It felt like time was nothing more than a mere interference with your speed. You swung your door open , your smile instantly dropped looking at your empty driveway “Fucking asshole, you lied.” He cackled as if you said something funny. “Nah I’m here.” He flicked his head lights grabbing your attention, you forgot his car was completely black. You didn’t understand why he would make his Hellcat so dark. Didn’t he want people to see it?

You smiled seeing him get out of his car, he looked so fucking fine in his Nike tech. To say you were nervous was an understatement, you were terrified. Knees nearly buckled as Eren approached the door. You gulped back your salvia, it felt like swallowing a golf ball. “Heyyy baby.” His lips met your cheek, it’s been so long since you saw Eren. His voice held a sweet tang and a long draw to it. His fragrance was a mix of Dior Sauvage and Backwoods. His eyes spoke for themselves; red and low. “Eren—are you high?” you pulled his face closer to yours. Examining his eyes—yeah, he was fucking hammered. “When am I not?” He flashed his pearly whites, you always wonder how he got his teeth so nice and white. If perfection was a human it had to be him, there was no visible flaw within that man. “You gonna smoke your brain away if you keep it up.” You closed the door and walked with him up to your bedroom. Eren looked at you with a soft expression, his eyes locked on to yours. “Aww, you care about me, baby? Fine, I guess I have no choice but to do as you wish.”He jokingly replied. Eren didn’t have many people who cared for him, so it was nice to know you were one of the very few.

Eren found himself in your bed once again, he nuzzled into your neck while a basic Netflix movie played. He wasn’t particularly interested in the movie, and you were aware of this. But he acted like he was excited to watch it. Your hands ran over his thigh grazing over his dick. Fingertips wrapping around it. “Damn Ren, you must be very happy to see me huh?” you giggle sinking into your bed lining. Eren's dark jade eyes met yours, the lower part of his face was covered by his hand. Unbeknownst to you, he had a new hand tattoo; a skeleton face—damn he looked fine. “That ain’t my dick, that’s my gun baby.” He laid on his back, his shirt slightly lifting revealing the weapon. You couldn’t resist wrapping your fingers around the handle of his gun; it was calling your name. You held it in your hand admiring the weapon, it alone held the power to remove a soul from this world.

“You like it?” he took the gun away from your grasp. He parted your thighs placing the cold metal against your cunt. “Yes sir.” You bit your lip at the sheer cold touching you. The hairs on your neck stood up, it was so dangerous, it turned you on. He slid your panties over letting the blistering cold metal meet your pussy. The gun started at a gentle pace, moving slowly against your clit. Erens lips occupied your neck; kissing and sucking it. His tongue lightly brushed over your collarbone, you felt his tongue piercing glide against your skin. You rutted hard against his gun trying to relieve the built-up pressure in your abdomen. You didn’t want his gun, you wanted him. You wanted him to fuck you silly until you could no longer comprehend your surroundings. “Fuucck, I need more ren, I need you.” The gun hastily left your thighs. “I need you too ma.” His mouth met his glock licking your slick off of it. Eren's lips pressed firmly together creating a ‘mmm’ sound. He got on top of you pressing his chest against yours. You felt his bulge through his sweatpants, his dick was begging to be left free. He pulled his sweat pants down, just below his crotch panel. Your fingertips slipped under his elastic waistband; tugging his boxers downwards. His dick pounced out, an angry red color washed over his tip. “Fuck, it’s been too long.” He stroked his dick letting the bead of pre cum coat his tip. Eren slid inside inch by inch, he grunted feeling your heat. “Damn baby, I ain’t fuck you good in a minute huh? You miss this dick?” You nodded quickly, yes—you missed everything about him. His hand wrapped around your mouth looking at his tattoo covering your face. It turned him on seeing it on you— whether his hand was around your throat, mouth, or ass. It always looked so perfect on you.

Eren tugged your shirt up watching your tits bounce as he pounded into you. You tried to push him away from overstimulating your cunt “Nah, This what you wanted right? Take this dick.” He grabbed your legs and threw them over his shoulder, he fucked you faster making you scream out. You could have sworn you put holes in the sheets because you were gripping them so tightly. You threw your head back clenching around Erens cock. Your body jolted at your release, finally letting go of that pressure you once had. “Ahh- fuck-“ you moaned while subtly grinding against his abdomen. His pace faltered, but not ending, Eren didn’t stop fucking you until he came all over your stomach. By then you were already on your third orgasm. He positioned himself beside you kissing your neck while tracing circles on your arm. “I know you love that shit.” He sighed, he was a fool for you as you were for him. He loved looking at your fucked out expression knowing he was the reason you looked like that.

“Mhm, I do, I really fucking do.” He grabbed his gun again setting it down on your chest, “That’s my favorite gun now, ima get your name carved in it.” That gun will forever be by his side from now on.

━━━━━━━♥︎━━━━━━━

4 my whores.

#eyena writes♡#eren jeager smut #eren jeager x reader #eren smut #eren x black fem!reader #eren x black reader #eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren x you #eren yeager

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vampcubus · 1 year

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𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐄

𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : kyojuro sure likes to stare, doesn't he? :ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : sfw, gn!reader, pre-established friendship, background obamitsu meddling. :ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 : 1.4k+

Kyojuro, bless his heart, is so hopelessly attracted to you in ways he’s never experienced.

Everything about you draws him in, from your striking beauty to your quick wit, how despite your snark you always treated others with compassion. You were fast friends, not that Kyojuro was particularly difficult to get along with. You’d even argue that such a person as him was impossible to dislike, at least without feeling guilty about it.

He was blunt, genuine, and brimming with so much enthusiasm it tended to unsettle some. But never you. You would look upon him with quiet acceptance, hanging onto his every word. You didn’t seem to mind his complete disregard for eye contact or his erratic conversational skills.

You just get him, he muses. And he’s never felt a kinship like that with anyone.

Kyojuro has always felt like he was moving faster than everyone else, both in mind and body. The man couldn’t sit still or shut up to save his life, or so the other Hashira would say – endearingly of course. No matter the sentiments his comrades held for him, none of them seemed to keep up quite as well as you did. Which is why he presumed you worked so well together.

He could blabber on about anything and have you following along just fine. Though after a few roundabout conversations ranging from swordplay to street food, he musters the confidence to ask if he talked too much for your taste.

You only quirk a brow and snort, “Pffft, of course not! I like listening to you talk.” and you see something shift in his gaze, the softest shade of pink tinting his round cheeks.

It’s around there when the staring starts.

It’s a subtle change at first, catching his wide-eyed gaze from across the training field. Feeling his eyes upon you as you shared meals together. Stumbling over your words when you realize for the first time that he’s actually looking you in the eye as you talk.

It’s a new and exhilarating feeling to be able to admire those honey-colored eyes fully fixated on you for a change. Too often you found yourself staring back. And the way he brightens when your eyes meet sends your fickle heart into pesky palpitations every time. You swore his pupils bled further into his golden-red irises every time he spotted you.

The idea of his eyes dilating at the mere sight of you endears you even more fiercely to him. As if such a thing was possible. You’re already attached at the hip, not to mention the dozens of joint missions you’ve taken.

His exuberance could be trying when your objective was to blend in, but his swordsmanship more than made up for it. He was incredibly good at taking the edge off when tensions were high, he was an emotional pillar of support, and you were honored to have his focus.

The beloved Flame Hashira was enthusiastic about many things, but you most of all it seemed. You’ve been told by several other Hashira that you were one of his favorite topics of conversation. The image of him gushing about you to other people is as embarrassing as it is flattering.

“Y/n is so easygoing, I cherish their company!”

“Did you know Y/n makes the best rice cakes?”

“Y/n is such a fierce swordsman, I am honored to fight at their side!”

“Y/n this, Y/n that. You’re all he talks about you know,” Iguro points a finger in your face one morning.

“So I’ve heard,” you hum, hand perched lazily on the hilt of your sword, though you’re unsure of precisely why he’s telling you this. Your eyes stray to Kaburamaru, who only flicks his tongue at you, leisurely slithering down Iguro’s shoulder from his coiled position around his neck.

You’ve always known the Serpent Hashira to be abrasive and confrontational, but the sudden interest in your relationship with Rengoku was uncharacteristic. Especially since he usually disregarded your presence unless he had something to criticize. You didn’t dislike him, but you wouldn’t say that you were close.

Did he know something you didn’t?

You try not to make assumptions based on the worries of others, but Kyojuro’s childhood friend approaching you out of the blue to tell you something like that? It makes you wonder just what sort of things Kyojuro has been saying about you to warrant such an interrogation.

Was Iguro trying to discern your intentions as a way of looking out for him? Perhaps your feelings for Kyojuro weren’t as internalized as you’d thought.

“Is this your way of saying you’ll snap me like a twig if I break his heart?” you ask, lips curling up into a sly grin, head cocked to one side.

Heterochromatic eyes blink in surprise, and then narrow.

“You catch on quick.”

“You can relax, Iguro. I won’t hurt him.”

“Few can be entirely sure of that. For your sake, I hope that’s the truth,” he waves you off, turning away in disinterest upon hearing your response.

The encounter leaves you with mixed feelings. Would Iguro have asked if he didn’t already know how Rengoku felt in return? It's an unsettling and gnawing feeling. Not the idea that your feelings could be returned, just the uncertainty of it all. If Iguro noticed it, why didn’t you?

“Iguro approached me earlier,” you say as you sit across from the flame-haired swordsman, currently having lunch at one of your favorite spots to eat.

“Did he now?” Kyojuro acknowledges, eyes still closed as he stuffs another bite of octopus into his mouth. His round cheeks puff out cutely, the image of a chipmunk with its cheeks full of nuts forming in your mind.

“He told me you talk about me a lot.”

“All good things of course!” he assures, seemingly unbothered by the news.

“That’s the thing,” you chuckle nervously, poking at your food with your chopsticks. Kyojuro’s eyes fluttered open, now focused on your fidgeting hands. “He seemed concerned that you had feelings for me beyond friendship.”

It’s silent for a moment, and you stuff food into your mouth to escape it, eyes focused on your plate. You can feel his gaze, but you’re too intimidated to meet it.

“Would that be a bad thing?” for once, Kyojuro sounds nervous.

It's a subtle strain in his tone that others who didn’t know him as well might have missed. But years of close proximity have made you perceptive to the almost invisible chinks in his armor. Kyojuro was heavily guarded for being such a friendly man, always eager to lend a hand or ear when others were in distress, but quick to clam up when it came to his own problems.

Your heartbeat skips, excited and terrified. Was that a confession? Were you reading too far into things? Was the question rhetorical? All these questions well up inside until you feel like you’ll burst.

You can’t help but let out an exasperated sigh.

“You’re so hard to read,” you lamented, nearly jumping out of your skin when his fingers brush yours from across the table.

“Perhaps If you looked at me, you’d have an easier time,” he laughs, and your heart already feels lighter at the joyous sound.

The anxiety in your tummy melts into giddiness, and you demurely tilt your head up to meet his eyes. They’re crinkled fondly, pupils large, and fully fixated on yours. His golden-red eyes consume yours, inspiring your fingers to twitch against his. You can only compare such an expression to a smitten puppy.

You suddenly feel silly for entertaining any doubts that the Flame Hashira was any less enamored than you were.

“To be completely honest, I have been interested in you romantically for quite some time now, and at a loss of how to contain such strong feelings,” he confessed, and suddenly a lot of things started making sense.

He stared at you so much because he liked you. He talked about you so much because he liked you. He let you tag along to missions he could have easily handled on his own because he liked you. Iguro approached you because he noticed.

“Then no, I don’t think that would be a bad thing at all.” You turn your hand with your palm facing upward to accept his own into your grasp.

Kyojuro’s smile widens, and he nearly shakes the entire restaurant with the volume of his declaration of, “WONDERFUL!”

“See, Obanai? I told you they just needed a little push!” Mitsuri gushes from across the restaurant, just her green eyes and the top of her head peeking over the menu.

#‧₊🦇˚⊹ ashi writes #kyojuro rengoku x reader #rengoku kyojuro x reader #kyoujurou rengoku x reader #rengoku kyoujurou x reader #rengoku x reader #kyojuro x reader #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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fanaticsnail · 2 months

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"Good Boy"

Masterlist here

Word count: 3,200+

Synopsis: Eustass Kid didn't know exactly when it happened, but now he craves to be praised by you. He thrives beneath your words, but the one time you didn't call him a "good boy" has him in a bratty rage.

Themes: mutual pining, kid x gn!reader, fluffy, praise kink Kid, he just wants to be a good boy, no kisses just praise.

Notes: it's past 1am where I am, and I physically couldn't get to sleep until I got this request by @remisloves out of my mind. It's all about praise and softening rough characters lately with me. Good night everyone! Sweet blorbo dreams

Tag list: @sordidmusings @writingmysanity @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @feral-artistry @carrotsunshine

A shudder erupted from the base of Eustass Kid's spine to the top of his cranium. Downturning his chin, he attempted to disguise how wide his smile had risen to his lips beneath the shadow of his blast goggles.

Never one to shy away from a challenge, Captain Kid pushed himself to the absolute limit to best his latest opponent. Blood dripping from his body, his bones bent to the point of nearly breaking. The weight of his metal arm overencumbered his body, his brute strength no longer enough to propel his legs forward.

Successful at last, he claimed their loot in their vast treasury, selecting a few key pieces that caught his eye to present back to you: a former thief, his ships’ appraiser, and now his curator of chronological dialogue, items and routines.

What would possess this hulking captain to risk his body and his crew to collect this small piece of art to present to you? Why would he ever risk such a heavy physical toll for a mere trinket?

Because he was a good boy.

And you always informed him as such.

While Kid saw no need for a chronicler initially, he very quickly warmed to the idea of maintaining one on his payroll. When Massacre Soldier Killer suggested a small snippet of their adventures be cataloged in journals, Kid never knew that reading the words back would prompt a rapid boil beneath his skin. A craving. A need.

Seeing those words scribed on paper held him hostage. Those doting, praising, uplifting words that held such passionate composition regarding his exploits; they pushed him to go further, drive harder, propell longer in his adventures. This was all in an attempt to dream of seeing more of those beautiful words describing him articulated upon paper.

Well, his exploits at least.

Most of all, he craved to hear them depart from your lips. You managed to slip a single verbalized expression of praise once upon his return from doing a menial task. Since then, he was hooked on the rush it brought him.

“Oh, wow! Captain, you've done so well! So unbelievably well!” was that first door opening to the praise he needed.

That small snippet from you, was all well and good in his opinion. He did enjoy your recognition of his talent, but it was not what he craved the most.

And what he wanted the most, was to be told he was, “a good boy.”

He couldn't explain it, but the thought of hearing those words flee from your lips had his eyelids half-hooded, eyes glazed, pupils blackened and blown, and a droopy smile lazily draw itself up onto his lips.

You had only ever come close one time to praising him personally, rather than the talent of his exploits. He felt the flutter of his heart rapidly igniting his veins with adrenaline, screaming with his eyes for you to utter the words he so desperately craved.

And you said it.

You finally said it today.

His feet thumped upon the wooden deck, after he hoisted himself over the small opening on the side of the ship. The ‘away team' had finally assembled together and began greeting those who remained behind.

Rushing to greet your Captain, he shot you a reciprocated, triumphant and winning smile, while happily presenting a small object up to you in the center of his right, flesh hand.

“You found it? You actually found it?” your eyes widened, reaching your hand out to Kid's extended right palm. His body was still dripping with the blood of his enemies, a visible shake in his fingertips as he elevated the trinket up to you.

“It nearly cost me my other arm,” he winced through the words, his forearm beginning to twitch beneath the strain of his exhaustion, “But I brought it back for you-...” he halted his words, pondering whether it was now time to make his affections known or not “...-to add to the collection.”

“For me?” your eyes widened, looking at the shiny and ornate gold filigree design. In the center of the flattened piece lay a single garnet: small, something one would cast aside should more items be presented. But to you, a prized piece in an antique collection you had been dedicating your life to find.

“It's the missing piece, yeah?” Kid smirked, huffing through his words as the rest of the crew assembled atop the Victoria Punk, “The one you told us about last Friday?”

“Honestly, Captain, I don't remember half of what happened last Friday,” you confessed sheepishly, up turning your brows as your fingers brushed against his palm, “You'd think my liver would be able to tolerate being aboard your ship, drinking that slosh alongside the crew by now.”

He barked a cracked cackle at your confession, prompting your own to rise in your chest. His laugh was contagious, a laugh that could be felt through his whole body springing and vibrating up within your own.

“Thank you, captain,” you expressed your deepest gratitude to the taller man, your head nodding in praise, “You don't know what this means to me.”

After a moment's pause, he looked down at the object before bringing his whisky-coloured eyes back up to meet with your own. He inhaled a shaken breath, baited and waiting within his lungs while anticipating his next words.

“S-So,” he stuttered over his words, scolding himself under his own anxiety, “Did I do good? Is this the one you needed? Am I a-...” he didn't want to lead you into giving him the praise he desperately sought, but didn't want to not hear it either.

With all the patience you could muster upon such a triumphant moment in your life, you prompted him with your eyes to have him complete his sentence.

“...Am I a good-...” trying so, so hard to say the final word, he physically couldn't have them pass his lips, “...-Captain?” He mentally slapped himself, knowing that those were not the words he craved and how stupid that must've made him sound.

You took a moment to carefully think about your next words, noticing how bruised he was, how bloody his knuckles were, how a lot of the crew that went with him on this private ‘away mission' were faring upon return.

“Of course you are. You captain us extremely well, sir,” you uttered with a soft smile, “I'll adjust my findings accordingly in the journals, if I may be excused?”

A small puff of air flew from his lips, defeat almost tangibly thick as it shrouded his shoulders with its presence. He looked away after giving his nod of dismissal, his gaze fixed on the wood of the deck below his feet.

Your smile widened, claiming the object from his palm and holding your hand within his for a moment longer, before withdrawing completely. Fluttering your eyes over each fixed point of concern on his features, you searched for what his body seemed to be screaming for.

Thanking him with a curt nod, you turned on your heel and abruptly halted your next step.

At this moment, it fully dawned on you exactly the words your Captain wanted to hear. Eustass Kid, captain of the Kid pirates, champion and leader of the Victoria punk, devil-fruit user and wielder of Haki… had a praise kink. And he wanted you to praise him.

A playful smile spread like warm honey up your cheeks, a scrunch in your nose as you rolled your next words over your tongue. You turned your head over your shoulder, guarding your intentions close to your chest as you spoke two words that almost had your Captain fall on his knees in gratitude.

“Good boy.”

From that moment on, he was simply smitten. No matter what he did, whether it was aiding his crew with carrying supplies, carrying out great acts of violence, defending his Nakama from their enemies, or simply finishing his vegetables at meal time - he would look to you in anticipation, that anticipation being met with those two simple words.

“Good boy.”

They echoed within his mind, swirling around within the chasms of his brain as slumber eluded him. He did not mind in the slightest having his lack of rest consumed with praises departing from your lips.

Your voice plagued him, haunted him as a spectral ghost would hunt down their unfinished business. He did not mind such a haunting, in fact: he wanted more. He wanted to have more praise, more compliments, more of your verbal, beautiful words crying out from your perfect lips.

He was smitten, completely smitten, by your compliments. The way your talented tongue made his name sound, the way your lips curved up in a knowing smirk each time you told him he was a ‘good boy.’

Until the day you didn't.

Eustass Kid was in a foul mood, one that nobody knew the cause nor the cure for such a horrid, stampeding mess of a captain. Food, ales, meads, even gold - nothing appeared to pry him from his raging temper. Breaking tankards, tipping over tables, scattering documents on his captains’ desk, nothing was safe from the wrath he was wreaking on the furniture.

Hunched over your desk, you continued cataloging and appraising the latest haul of trinkets and treasures thrust into your office. It was overwhelming for you, the sheer number of items scattered around your room. You attempted to alphabetize them, sort them accordingly and lump them into itemized piles.

The toll the elevation of work raised onto your shoulders had you dismiss all those who presented you with various finds, including your Captain. He rocked on the ball and heels of his feet, eagerly awaiting and anticipating his sought-after praise - but found nothing but an anxious sigh and scratch of your neck in response to his hard labor.

This was the reason for his intense rage.

After leaving your office, and selfishly paying no mind to your exhausted expression, he began to spiral.

“He was so good. Why didn't you tell him he was? Was there something he could've done better? Something he could've pushed harder to strive for?” all circled within his mind as he tore piece after piece of his office apart.

Several hours had passed, and you carved a hefty chunk of your work apart and managed to get a fair bit done. It was nowhere near complete, but it had you feeling a sense of anxious accomplishment.

A knock at the door prompted you to raise your chin, eyes panicked and overwhelmed with the amount of work still required to be completed before mealtime.

“Need help?” The light flickered off the cerulean and pearl colored mask of the first mate, who peeked his head around the doorframe.

“Please,” you sighed, gesturing to your position kneeling on the ground beside you. Killer promptly entered your office, crouching beside you and sifting through the uncharted treasures still needing to be sorted.

“What we up to?” he elevated his hand, gesturing out to the various piles in front of you both, “I think I see where they need to go. You written down them all?”

“All recorded in the book, down to the last drooped earpiece,” you confirmed, nodding to the mess in the center of the room, “They just need to be put in the right piles, locked in the treasury, and then we can call it a night. Maybe have an ale, if you're up for it, Kil?”

After a moment's pause, both of you rolling the items in your fingertips and placing them within the according: gold, silver, platinum, gemstone, raw material, ceramic, wearable materials, and weaponry piles.

“Leave this with me,” Killer uttered, placing a throwing knife within the weaponry stack, “And you go and perform your other job.”

“What other job?” your brows knit with confusion, “I've already done the journalling of the exploits, the timetabling of the crew shift-changes, notarizing the stock we need within the kitchen-.”

“-Oh, no, buckaroo,” you could audibly hear the smirk behind Killer's mask as he teased you, “the other one. The one nobody pays you to do.”

“Which is, champ?” you taunted in return, nudging him with your shoulder roughly against his, “Be specific.”

“The one where you-...” he took this brief pause as an opportunity to sigh in huffed frustration, “...-where you tell our captain he's a good boy. Although, in his current state,” Killer rotated his neck to relieve the tension on his shoulders, “I might even go so far as to suggest you call him a bad one, considering that's exactly how he's behaving.”

Your confusion knit your brow down in the center of your face, your mind focussing on when the last time you praised the puppy you had turned your Captain into.

“Oh, fuck! I didn't praise him when he brought in the loot!” your eyes widened in shock, promptly rising to your feet and brushing over your pants, “I just got so overwhelmed by the sheer bloody number, I couldn't think of anything else. Oh, I'm an idiot.”

“You're not an idiot,” Killer interrupted you, rising to his own feet and cupping your shoulders in an attempt to halt the rise in your anxiety, “Hell, you're not even dating him. It shouldn't be your job-,” he brushed over your shirt, adjusting the crumpled material to make it more appealing to the eye.

“-Yet here you are,” he concluded, nodding at you before glancing down at the piles of treasure, “And here I am: the first-mate, the best friend, the confidant. The one who is unable to tear him away from his absolutely shit-house mood, because all he wants is you.”

You attempted to stifle the warm flush that drew itself up to your cheeks. Captain Kid was a tall, broad and intimidating man - those were the three assessments you initially made when you were hired to serve aboard the Victoria Punk. Then you got to know him, and were made privy to truly see who he was beneath the surface.

The twinkle behind the feral rage, the purity in his unbridled emotions, the lack of restraint in all his advances: you adored him. When he began to seek out your praises, you were immediately swooning at his attention.

He wanted your words, not just due to the fact words were your job, but because he wanted you to speak them. Just to speak his praises to be granted the luxury of a light tingle in his ears, a blush rise to his cheeks and a smile decorating his lips with such beautiful words.

Now within the doorframe of your captain's office, you arched your brow and crossed your arms. Leaning on the wooden panel, you continued to watch his chest rise and fall with each exasperated and berzerk breath. Your eyes never left his body, each arch of his back and ripple of his muscles straining under the taut fabrics atop his shoulders.

“All this because I didn't call you a good boy?” you addressed him in a low and dangerous tone. His feral eyes snapped over to you, widening as he truly witnessed the devastation in the destruction in his office.

“You've been a bad boy, I see,” you continued in your dark tone, promptly stepping into his office and closing the door behind you, “Look at all this mess. Tsk, naughty.”

The click of your tongue had Kid arching his back, straightening his spine as he bit back a soft whimper. His brows triangulated in the center of his face, bottom lip now quivering under the weight of your disciplinary tone.

Circling his body, fingers brushing against his large right hand beside his hip as you leaned into him. You shook your head, stooping down and beginning to collect the paper, stationary, tankards, and paperweights that had been flung against the floor.

Before you could say a following, disciplinary word, Kid immediately fell onto his knees and began hurriedly picking up the items he threw onto the ground beside you.

“I-I’ll pick it all up,” he nodded his head as to confirm his words further, “I'll tidy up all this shit. Please, I-I’m sorry. I just-.”

“-Just wanted to be praised, hm?” you hummed at him. He hid his head from view, his painted lips pouting while his eyes held their attention firmly against the mess.

He nodded, the weight of finally admitting his craving lifting off his chest and shoulders as he received the items you were holding atop the stack he was forming.

“Tidy up your mess, handsome,” you smiled, elevating your right hand to capture his pointed chin within your thumb and index finger, “I'll watch every step you take, and let you know how good you're being, if you do it properly.”

Kid’s breath caught in his lungs, a pink dust settled against his cheeks and ears. He hurriedly rose to his feet, up-turning his askew desk and dusting off his captains’ chair. He extended it outwards, wordlessly and politely gesturing for you to take a seat.

“My, my,” you commented, rising to your feet and accepting his invitation, “Such a gentleman, you're being. But, you've gotta’ work a little bit harder to earn that title you crave.”

Captain Eustass Kid was a dutiful, whimpering puppy under your watchful eyes. He was, almost, happily rearranging all of the objects he had thrown askew. He even took the time to appropriately categorize the pages he didn't complete prior to his little tantrum.

“Hm, very good. Well done picking up after yourself.” He blushed further at your words, but craved so much more.

“Oh, look at how much time you're taking on that bookshelf. I can even see how clean you're making each of the panels. Look at you go, big boy.” That praise had him whimpering, his eyes fluttering shut as he continued to clean in silence.

“So strong, picking up that heavy weight all by yourself. So proud of you.” He could not stop the audible gasp, nor the rush of blood seeping to places they had no business in flooding to at that moment.

He completed all this while glancing over his shoulder and thriving beneath the giddy feeling rushing to his chest upon being the center of your unwavering gaze.

Upon the last paperweight being placed and straightened atop his desk, he knelt between your knees and glanced up into your eyes. He looked innocent of all wrongdoing, all prior anger and malice fleeing from within his silent pleading.

He was desperate for those words, those two simple little words that he so yearned for. Noseying up further between your knees, his shuddering metal and flesh hands cautiously placed themselves gently on your calves.

Soft and slow circles were traced against your legs, his eyes never leaving yours as they began twinkling with hope. All his mind was screaming, silently and internally, was a simple repetition of: “Please, please, please. Say it, say it, say it.”

And you obliged him by leaning down, caressing his left, scarred cheek and drawing your lips close enough to taste the tingle of his breath upon your skin. Hovering before contact was made, you floated your gaze between his whisky-hued orbs and his parted lips with a soft smile.

“Good boy.”

#one piece #x reader #Eustass Kid #eustass kid x reader #op kid #one piece eustass kid #kid x reader #kid x gn!reader #gn!reader #one piece x reader #kid has a praise kink #he just wants to be a good boy #fic request #ask snail #snail answers #snail needs sleep

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cybertronic69 · 8 months

Text

☁️ COZY.

she adores you.

warnings: bff!ellie + top!ellie + bottom!reader + fingering + finger sucking

- ☁️ -

you and ellie have been best friends for quite a long time. you're always together, maybe at patrol, maybe on the packed streets of jackson or maybe in her room, just like you two are now.

"so... that's the dvd you found?" you're holding the little object in your hands, meticulously analyzing it.

"yes, babe." ellie smiles at you. she was always calling you those sweet names, touching you and using her gentlest voice that made you melt everyime. "joel said that this movie was huge at the time." joel also said that this was the movie that people took their girlfriends to watch. she didn't plan on telling you that part.

"that's so cool, els!" you smile softly at her. "you always find the best stuff at patrols." oh, that she does. so much that she found something straight out of her dirtiest wet dreams. an 8 inches silicone strap on that she dying to show you. she needed to see your reaction. would you get all flustered? would you laugh? would you tell her to fuck off? well if you let her, she would gladly fuck y- "els?" your voice snaps her out of her fantasies.

"sorry, babe... got distracted." she puts the movie on and sits down on the couch. "come here..." she pats the spot next to her. you sit down by her side, and she immediately wraps her arms around you.

"so what's the movie about?" you rest your head on her shoulder.

"i dont know..." she knows. "probably some cheesy stuff." you hum and start paying attention to the movie. ellie starts paying attention to you. as the movie unwinds, the scene that ellie was waiting for so long finally starts. she tries her best to be subtle while watching your reaction to the two girls making out on the screen. she caresses your arm with the tip of her nails, and you shiver. you shift on your seat, and she notices your breath getting slightly heavier.

after a few moments of silence you decide to speak. "els..." you say in quiet voice.

"yes?" she whispers and her voice send shivers down your spine.

"did you ever..." you start but your voice cracks.

"did i ever... do this?" she whispers in the same tone as before. you just nod, not trusting your voice at the moment.

"yeah." she merely answers. you hum and stay silent, now pretending to pay attention to the movie. "did you?" ellie is directly looking at you this time. you just shrug and she laughs quietly. "what's that supposed to mean, babe?" she gently brushes your hair out of your face. "are you shy?" she tucks your hair behind your ear.

"leave me alone, ellie" you look away, ignoring her.

she chuckles. "what happened to 'els' now? am i losing my privileges?"

"what privileges?" you mumble.

"the privileges... of being the person you like the most." she simply answers. you try to think of a comeback, but it's not successful, so you just stay silent. "wanna know something?" she caresses you cheek. her touch feels so good and inviting that you have to fight the urges to lean into it like a kitten. you look at her and nod. "you're my favorite girl" she whispers softly. the faint glow from the tv is bathing her face, and her pretty green eyes are sparkling as she stares at you. you open your mouth and close it shortly after. she always makes you dumb. "i could..." ellie starts. "i could treat you good, babe."

"you already do, els..." you mumble.

"yeah, but... i could treat you good in ways that you're not used to." she's still caressing your arm. "better than anyone else. im better than anyone else for you."

you stare up at her. "els..."

"let me show you..." she touches your bottom lip with her thumb. "can i?" you take a deep breath. even her smallest touch can make you dizzy and leave your heart beating like crazy. you slowly nod. ellie cups your cheek, and soon your lips are on hers. she wraps her free arm around your waist and pulls you closer, making your bodies press against each other. as the kiss gets more heated, she sucks on your tongue, and you whimper. ellie has to fisically fight to urge to bend you over and fuck you right there. she slowly pulls back from the kiss with little pecks and wipes the saliva from your lips with her thumb. as you try to catch your breath, she takes the thumb into her mouth and sucks on it.

"what the fuck, ellie..." you whine with your eyes glued on her actions.

"what?" she grins. "you want a taste too?" she starts to trace your bottom lip with her middle and ring finger. you part your lips almost unwittingly as you stare at her with big wide eyes. your gaze drifts down to her tattoed arm right in front of your face. you take in how pretty the view is. long and slim fingers, cold veiny hands, ink filled lines on her skin, and suddenly, you feel your mouth watering. ellie, still staring at you with a slight side grin, slowly pushes her fingers into your soft lips as she analyzes your every little reaction. when her fingers touch your hot tongue, she bites her own lip. and that was it. you knew this got out of hand already, so why not just follow the flow? you wrap your lips around ellie's fingers and close your eyes as you suck on them. ellie also closes her eyes, enjoying the feeling a little too much. so much that she can't stop picturing her fingers sliding in and out of a very specific area your body that is just as warm as your mouth. "babe..." ellie's voice is hoarse when she opens her eyes, staring at you with a heavy gaze. you let out a soft noise around her fingers, and ellie lightly grips the hair on the back of your head with her other hand. she starts moving her fingers back and forth, still being careful to not hurt you. when her fingers hit the back of your throat, your eyes tear up. "shit, babe... you're gonna cry?" ellie whispers, trying to tease you, but her voice is a little too shaky for that. when you nod, she nods with you. "im gonna give you something to cry about..." she grabs your jaw, pulling you into another breathtakingly kiss. she lays you down on the bed, still on top of you, and starts to kiss your neck. your head is spinning. everything feels too good. her lips burn your skin, and your hands grab anything they can find. heir hair, her shoulders, her back. "hey..." ellie whispers as some sense starts to appear in her head again. "is... are you okay with this?" her voice is breathy, her skin is hot, and her lips are glistening with saliva. when you nod, she shakes her head. "need you to say it... tell me you want it."

"please... fuck me..." you whisper in a whiny voice.

"shit... you dont need to ask me twice..." she buries her head on your cleavage, kissing your breasts. "always wanted to do this." she adds with that little grin of hers and for a moment, she looks like your silly best friend with that boyish charm of hers. you were about to point that out to mess with her but then her hand cups your clothed pussy and your voice dies in your throat.

"a-ah... ellie..." you hide your face on her neck.

"gonna fuck you... just like you asked, babe." ellie's mind drifts to her finding that is now carefully kept on the bottom of her closet. maybe... maybe she could... no... no need to rush. right now you're taking her fingers only. and you're going to like it.

in a blink of an eye you're naked and she's still clothed. you almost pout at this. you wanna see her too... "els... take it off..."

she grins and shakes her head. "you'll have the chance..." she pecks your hard nipple and you shiver. "...later... now it's all about you, babe...." she mumbles, almost in a trance, as she plays with your breasts, taking them into her mouth and gently squeezing it. you have your suspicious that this was actually all about her since she was almost drooling on your tits but it feels so fucking good that you dont have the strength to tease her about it. with one hand on your left breast and her mouth on you the right one, you almost forget that she has a free empty hand, so when her fingers slide through your slit, you jump in surprise. ellie chuckes. "you didn't think i could just ignore this pretty pussy did you?" she quickly pecks your lips and kisses her way down your torso stopping right in front of your soaked cunt. she takes a minute to take in the view, her hands holding your thighs apart. you glance down at her with shaking hips and she looks like someone who is about to have the best meal in their fucking life. yeah, this is actually all about her. "shit... such a pretty fucking pussy..." she whispers, her warm breath making you tremble even more. she blows some air into your clit and chuckles when you squirm. "cute..." she gently pecks your clit and you whine. she puts your legs on her shoulder and closer her eyes when she licks your slit from bottom to top. she moans. "tastes perfect, babe..." ellie mumbles against your pussy, her nose touching your clit. "need you to cum on my face..." when she starts eating you out for real you almost scream because what the fuck. why is she so good at this? when did she learn? with who? a pang of jealously hits you with the thought of your best friend with other women. your hips tremble hard and you grip on her hair trying to pull her back because it was too much. you're gonna cum like this. you're about to say something to her when she slides two fingers inside your pussy and you see stars.

"nngh... ellie!" you cry out and she smiles softly.

"come on... just let it go... there's more after..." ellie's voice is soft as her fingers hit that perfect spot inside you everytime. you're crying. it's so fucking good. you cum hard all over her fingers. when you finally regain some composure, you see ellie licking her fingers clean, and you groan.

"who the fuck are you..." you're totally pissed off at this point. she's too good at this.

ellie laughs and buries her head in your neck. "i'm els."

you flip her around and straddle her hips. "who are the bitches?" you whisper.

she has a stupid grin on her face. her hands grabs your hips. "what bitches?"

"that you're fucking." you whisper and deep down you know you're being insane.

"right now it's you." she laughs and undoes your pout with her thumb. "and i want it to be you... for a long time... maybe even..." ellie's cheeks are red now.

"is that you trying to ask me to be your girlfriend?" you cross your arms. "im gonna pretend it didn't happen and give you second chance to do it without the word 'bitch' being mentioned."

ellie laughs again and pulls you against her, hugging you tight. "i love you..." she whispers. "im gonna make it right next time..."

you bury your head on her shoulder, slightly embarrassed. "good." you huff. "and... i love you t-too..."

ellie smiles. you need to get strapped.

- ☁️ -

#ALMOST slipped a daddy kink into this but the voices didn't win today #also i really really really want to write a part 2 #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #tlou 2 ellie #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader

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themorningsunshine · 1 year

Text

Pie - eyed over you

Mafia - Baker AU

Masterlist Series Masterlist

Pairing - Mafia!Bucky x Baker!Reader

Summary - When a new baker in town refuses to abide by his rules, Bucky has no option but to go and take care of it himself. But nothing could prepare him for what stood on the other side. Nothing could prepare him for you.

Warnings - Mentions of murder and weapons

Word count - 3.3k

a/n - This is my first time writing an AU and I am super nervous (also because I have combined two things I can just not write about, weapons and cooking). Please let me know what you think.

Rain was pouring heavily on the roof of the shed and he wasn't sure if the old sheds meekly covering the building could contain them much longer. He couldn't care less.

He walks out of the building and into the rain, wiping his left arm on his dry coat to wipe off the blood covering it. The pouring rain caresses his face but does nothing to the ever-present frown on his forehead and the grimace on his lips.

He used to love the rain as a kid. The gentleness of the droplets, the smell of rain, and the puddles. It was so much easier back then. So innocent. He closes his eyes as droplets slide their way all over him. They touch him like they don't know what he has just done.

His frown deepens as images claw into his mind once again. He clenches his fist remembering how it had taken him mere 10 seconds to shoot 3 bullets straight into the man's head. The killing had become easier over the years. Picking the bullet and shooting straight into the target had become second nature to him.

What hadn't become easier was the aftermath. The guilt that somehow always gnawed its way into his heart. The question was there any other way?

With his eyes still closed, he brings his face towards the sky, daring the rain to wash away his thoughts the same way it has washed away the blood that stuck to his metal arm not so long ago.

He likes the rain for a completely different reason now.

It provides him with an escape.

From his mind.

His thoughts

The images. The man screaming, begging him to stop and he doesn't even feel disgusted by himself when he doesn't even falter. He left his men to take care of the body.

A face lingers in his mind, pushing away all the dark thoughts. His ma "Bucky "

It's like he can hear her call out to him, urging him to come back home.

She would have hated how he turned out.

But he tells himself he doesn't care.

It didn't matter what his ma would have thought about him. She wasn't here. She didn't have to know.

He snaps his eyes open when he doesn't feel the rain falling on his face anymore. He can still hear the raindrops thudding on the roofs of the buildings. He looks up to see a huge umbrella over his head, shielding him from the rain.

He frowns and follows the handle of the outrageous floral print object only to be met by the sight that was going to change his life forever.

The first thing he saw when his eyes met y/e/c ones was that they held a certain softness to them that he didn't think still existed in this world. He was almost afraid to take his eyes off yours as if he was scared that you would crumble down under his gaze.

But when he brought his eyes over your face and then the rest of you, he knew it was the most beautiful sight his eyes had ever landed on. That even the most beautiful paintings in the world didn't hold a candle to you.

"Are you okay?" You whispered, voice so gentle, it could calm the most violent of storms.

Bucky thinks those are the most precious three words he has ever heard. He nods his head, mostly because he doesn't speak too much these days and also because it has been a very long time since someone has asked him that question.

"I am walking that way and the rain is increasing, you don't want to get drenched. Walk with me?" You ask and he thinks he would burn the whole world down to the ground with a smile on his face if you asked.

He looks at the way you are pointing and realizes that's where his car is parked. He says, "Okay" and sees as you take a step towards him, covering the both of you with your umbrella, and his senses are filled with your smell. You smell like freshly baked cookies and coffee. It's his new favorite smell.

You take a couple of steps ahead before turning towards him and he realizes he is staring. He doesn't remember the last time when somebody had enthralled him so much. For some reason, he just can't get himself to look away.

"I have not seen you around before." He says only to hear you speak again.

"Yeah, I am kind of new here. Been less than a week." You reply with a smile on your face and Bucky thinks this cursed town has just been blessed.

You look around before commenting, "It's a beautiful town." And for the love of god, he can't figure out how this part of the town which is more of a dumpster with remnants of buildings all around can be beautiful to somebody.

"This is not really a safe place." When you look at him with confusion in your eyes, he continues, "Especially at this time of night." As if that explanation is enough. He straightens his back and tries to get the confident, mob aura he has around everyone. "What are you doing here?"

If his slightly changed demeanor throws you off guard, you don't point it out. You just bite your lip before speaking, "What if I tell you I lost my way?"

The chuckle that leaves him is involuntary. "Really? Lost your way?"

"Hey. In my defense, it's just been a week." You place your hand on your chest in fake offense.

"Where were you heading to?"

You put your hand in your pocket before taking out a piece of paper. "Here"

Bucky takes the paper from you and looks at it with furrowed brows. "Why are you walking this way? This place is at the other end of that alley." He says before pointing out to a dark alley.

You make an o shape with your mouth before turning toward where he is pointing. "Got it. Thanks."

When you reach his car and his driver opens the door for him, he turns back before saying, "Let me drop you." It doesn't sound like a request.

"No, no. It's fine. I don't want to be trouble. Also, I am not sure your car would fit in there." You said before tilting your umbrella towards yourself.

"I'll see you around." You tell him before giving him a small wave and walking away, a smile still etched on your lips.

Bucky stands there, watching you go, and realizes he didn't ask your name. But he'd be damned if he let you go in that alley alone. He asks one of his men to make sure that you reach your destination safely.

"Keep an eye from afar." He instructs him. Voice cold and commanding.

But the frown on his head and the grimace on his lips are a little less evident on the way back.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

"What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?" Bucky's voice bellowed around the dark room, startling everyone around him.

"S- sir, I tried." Peter bows his head before whimpering.

Steve, who has been standing beside Bucky's chair leans in to whisper, "He is just a kid, Buck."

Bucky rubs his hand over his face before looking at Peter trying his best to give him a soft look. "Okay, Peter. I don't have time for this. What exactly is the problem here? And don't tell me a full-blown story."

"S-sir, the new bakery. The owner says she isn't going to pay the money. Said something about taxes and also that, 'If I don't barge in there asking for weapons, don't barge into my place asking for money.'

Some of the men standing in the corner chuckle but are rewarded by a glare from Bucky.

"I don't have time to deal with a Baker. Did you tell her that everybody in town pays the money? It's for protection." He says, voice slightly irritated. The townspeople feared him. There was no doubt about that in his mind. Hence, they sent him money at the start of every month diligently. But sometimes, out of the blue, someone would come and try to be the savior, trying to rebel. He didn't understand what they wanted. He wasn't a monster. Over the years, he had relieved some people of paying the money on various occasions.

"I did tell her that, sir. She asked me who exactly is this protection from." Peter whispered, now slightly trembling with fear.

This piqued Bucky's interest. Over the years, nobody had ever asked his men the reason behind the money. They just obliged.

Peter continued, "I told her it's from the mob. Some of us. And she said she isn't going to pay us to do the bare minimum, to be human." Bucky leaned back in his chair and shut his eyes in annoyance.

Steve spoke up, "It's okay, Buck. I'll handle this. You know they all give in eventually."

Bucky opened his eyes and stood up from his chair. "Nope, I will come with you. This is different." He then looked at Sam who was standing at the other end of the room, "Receive the order of the weapons. The delivery is scheduled in an hour."

Same nodded his head before walking out of the room. Bucky dismissed the other men and along with Steve walked towards Peter, both of the men towering over him.

"Peter, are those crumbles of pie on your face?"

A shiver passed through Peter at his cold tone and he willed himself to speak, "She gave it to me, sir. I tried to refuse. Really did. But she said that I am just a kid and don't deserve - " Peter cut himself before he could speak too much. He somehow had the habit of always speaking about stuff that is supposed to be kept secret.

A small smile found its way to Bucky's lips but it was gone as soon as it came and he patted Peter's shoulder dismissing him. "This is different." He said to Steve before walking out of the room.

And for some reason, he was sure it was true.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

"We are here, sir."

Bucky looked up from the file he was reading to his driver and then around him. It was one of the good areas of the town where families stayed, holed up in their whole little world, the darkness of the other side not fully reaching them.

Steve instructed the driver and the guard to stay in the car as the both of them walked out. "That is the one," Steve said pointing towards something.

Bucky followed his gaze and his movements faltered for a slight second. He had never seen something so - warm.

A little bakery standing between a bookstore and a cycle stand with sweets adorning its shelves looking delicious enough to lure anybody inside—soft music playing in the little speaker placed outside. People occupying the chairs outside and inside the shop, kids running around with huge grins on their faces, every one into their own little world.

It looked lively.

Bucky couldn't remember seeing something like this in the town before. Maybe he hadn't even bothered, or maybe something had really changed. With their black sunglasses and dressed up in dark colors from head to toe, he wasn't sure if he and Steve were going to fit in, but he couldn't care less.

As they walked closer, Bucky could now see most of the shop and when his eyes landed on the sole person behind the counter, his breath hitched in his throat.

Removing his sunglasses to get a better look, he stopped in his tracks when his suspicions were confirmed.

It was her.

The girl with the floral umbrella and the warm smile.

The girl who had somehow crept her way into his thoughts more than he would like to admit in the past week since he had seen her.

And she was beautiful.

He saw as you stood behind the counter, handing a box to a little girl with a huge grin on your face, the girl jumping up and down in excitement as you leaned towards her to whisper something.

He then saw the little girl run out of the bakery, clutching the box to her chest towards her mother as if it was the most precious thing in the world. When his eyes went back to you, he saw how you talked to the next customer, an old lady, with the same huge grin on your face.

He hadn't noticed that he had been staring until Steve cleared his throat, a smirk on his face. Before Steve could say something, Bucky muttered, "Stay here, let me handle this." He walks towards the stops with a calculated gaze and a perfected aura of confidence.

As he opens the door to the bakery, the smell of coffee and cookies hits him hard and a feeling of warmth engulfs him.

"How can I - " Your words die in your throat when your eyes land on the familiar figure.

Bucky could swear your smile gets wider.

You compose yourself before saying, "Hey, I know you. You are the cute guy from the other day."

Bucky frowns as he takes in your words. Cute? Did you just call him cute? He had been called intimidating, scary, and even sexy. But cute? He was furious. He was anything BUT cute. Also, was he allergic to something in the shop? Why the hell was his stomach suddenly fluttering?

He also ignores the way his heart is beating quicker at the realization that you remembered him. What was happening to him today? "I am looking for y/n l/n."

Your smile turned slightly mischievous as you replied, "That would be me."

Bucky's eyes almost widened at that. "You are y/n? The owner of the bakery?"

"Yup." You said popping the p as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And the last I checked, introductions went both ways."

You raised your hand towards him for a handshake and after looking at your hand for a moment, he shook it. "I am B - James." For some reason, he didn't want you to know who he was. The nickname might give it away.

You smiled at him again before returning your hand, a little too early for Bucky's liking, "So, James. What can I get you?"

He had it all planned. It was like second nature to him. I want my money. Abide by the rules, you don't want to know the consequences. It was the usual. But for some reason, his mouth had gained a mind of its own as it said before he could comprehend, "Cupcakes"

You looked at the huge display of baked goods before looking back at him, "Which one?"

Bucky gave the display a glance, he was sure he hadn't ever tasted most of them. "What do you recommend, sweets?"

He watches as you are visibly taken aback by the nickname. A smirk find its way to his lips as he watched red color creeping up to your neck.

"I - uhm" You take a breath to compose yourself. Get it together. "These red velvet cupcakes just came out of the oven and they are kinda my favorite. So.." You look at Bucky with excitement in your eyes and he likes how passionate you are about your work.

"I'll take a box."

You smile at him before bending down to pack a box of the delicacy and he watches how you oh-so-gently pick up each piece before placing it inside the box with practiced precision.

When you hand over the box to him and your hands brush, you feel the sparks through your spine once again as when you had shaken hands.

When he puts a hand in his pocket to retrieve the money, you cut him off. "Don't worry about it. It's on the house."

Bucky smiles a little before replying, "Sweets, you keep giving free goods like that and you'll have to close the shop soon." He says in a teasing voice.

"I'll let you in on a secret, James." You lean towards him as if it is the most secretive thing in the world. "This is a business strategy."

He frowns a little, trying to cover the fact that he was getting too comfortable with how close the both of you were, before saying, "How's that?"

"The first order is on the house but then you come again. And again. It's really profitable."

There is this - innocence and purity in your voice that reminds him of a little child. Of old times. Easier times. And he just stares into your eyes for as long as he can, as if they could help him escape, become a portal to a time long lost.

You don't dare to move either. His eyes are the prettiest shade of blue you have ever seen. They have this intensity to them as if hiding the stories of a lifetime and you just can't get yourself to look away. You have always loved a good mystery.

Bucky clears his throat, bringing the both of you out of the daze as he brings the teasing tone back to his voice, "What makes you think I will come back?"

You chuckle a little before giving a proud smile. "Oh, you will, James. I trust my cupcakes."

He gives you another small smile as he takes a step back. This is the longest conversation he has had with a person outside his line of work in a very long time. Everybody was just too scared but he couldn't care less.

"Goodbye, sweets." He says before letting the new customer who had just entered go ahead.

"Goodbye, James. Until next time." You add with a wink.

Bucky walks out of the bakery, his initial motive forgotten completely. From the outside, he turns back to look at you for the one last time and watches as you say something that makes the teenage boy laugh while taking out cookies from the shelf.

A moment later, you look towards the window and your eyes meet for a fleeting second. You smile at him and give him a small wave.

Bucky turns around to walk towards his car when he notices Steve standing a few feet away with a knowing smirk on his face.

Bucky rolls his eyes before muttering with clenched teeth, "Don't"

Steve doesn't ask about the money and Bucky is glad. He isn't really sure how he would answer. Whatever happened wasn't what he was expecting. You weren't what he was expecting.

As he slid into the back seat of his car, the image of your smile when you were that close to him lingered in his mind and he couldn't stop the way his lips had pulled slightly upward.

When the car started driving, and with Steve on a phone call, he opened the box of cupcakes and picked one to take a small bite.

As he takes the first bite, the softness and the sweetness of the cake engulf him and leave him wanting more. He doesn't remember eating something this good in a long time.

And for many reasons, he will definitely visit again.

Next part

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freedomfireflies · 4 months

Text

Birthday Boy*

Summary: An extra for 404*

The one where Harry doesn't celebrate his birthday but he loves to celebrate you.

Word Count: 2.3k

Content Warning: 18+, smut, anal play, brief Daddy kink, breeding kink

“What the fuck am I doing here?”

You grin as you widen the door and motion him inside. “Just shut up and come in.”

“…why?”

“Harry.”

He huffs but does oblige, slipping the hood from his head while glancing around. “I thought you didn’t want me coming over here anymore.”

“I don’t,” you agree. “But this is a special circumstance.”

“Yeah? And why's that?”

You merely smile. “You’ll see. Sit.”

He glances at your sofa before nodding his chin toward the bedroom. “Here or there?”

“Here. You don’t deserve to go in there.”

“Funny.” He slumps down onto the cushions and tosses arms over the back of the couch. “Now what?”

Your hand disappears into your pocket as you approach him from behind. “We’re gonna play a game.”

“A game?”

“A game. I…am gonna blindfold you,” you tell him as you slip his glasses off and hover dark fabric over his head. “And you…are going to guess what I put in your hand.”

You wait a beat before settling it over his eyes, just to make sure he’s all right with your proposition.

And of course, he smirks. “Okay,” he agrees and you fasten the knot. “And what do I get if I guess correctly?"

“A prize.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You walk back around the couch and stand in front of his knees. “And if you guess wrong, then I’ll be claiming the prize for myself. And you can just watch.”

His lips curl up into a wicked grin. “Deal.” He extends his hand. “Let’s go.”

This is where the game gets tricky. In order to give him the object, you have to retrieve it first. Which means stripping down completely.

So, you do. You peel off your shirt and your jeans and your scandalously tiny panties and toss them into a pile on the floor.

And then…you step closer.

You swing your leg over his hip, and then the other, and drop yourself onto his lap. He’s already grinning, likely having guessed that you removed your clothes, and he’s endlessly intrigued.

You take his hands and bring them to your chest. Allowing him to squeeze and grope the warm, sensitive flesh at his disposal as he bites back a larger grin and pretends to think.

“These…” he hums, “these are those beautiful fucking tits I love to suck on so much, aren’t they?”

“Mhm.” You move his hands down your stomach and place them on your waist.

“And these…” He kneads them gently. “These are those perfect hips I love to hold when I fuck into you.”

“Uh-huh.” You slide his large palms down to your thighs.

“Oh, these,” he nearly groans. “These are the fucking thighs I love to have squeezing my head when you sit on my face. When you cum all over my tongue and make a mess of me. A tasty fucking mess.”

You smirk and move him toward your ass now.

And he curses to himself before he’s taking hold of each cheek and tugging—hard. “And this…this is the ass that looks so pretty when it’s all red and tender from taking my punishment, yeah? The one that looks so fucking good in my hand? Bouncing on my cock?”

“Mhm…and one more guess,” you tell him before you take his hands and move them between the cheeks of your ass.

And that’s when he feels it.

You watch him swallow. Watch the way his jaw ticks and his lips part. The way he fights the urge to yank the covering from his eyes and see for himself.

“Tink…”

“Yes, Harry?”

“…is that a butt plug?”

You grin wildly as you move your lips to his ear. “Happy birthday.”

In seconds, he’s ripping off the blindfold and taking a proper look at you. He’s surprised and you feel proud. “How the fuck did you know?”

“What, you think you’re the only one who can hack into Prescott’s computer and read a file?”

He blinks before he’s leaning back and allowing his eyes to travel down the length of your naked body still settled on his lap. “Well…fuck.”

“Yeah.” You laugh. “And what better way to celebrate, right? Go ahead. Admit it. I’m an incredible gift giver.”

For the first time since you’ve known him, he seems…stunned. Eerily quiet and it’s almost unnerving. He holds your body but not in the greedy way he was before. Now he’s…almost reverent. Confused.

“I…I don’t really celebrate my birthday,” he finally admits. “Anymore, I mean. I…you didn’t have to do this.”

Your chest aches but you wave him off. “It’s just anal, calm down. I’m not throwing you a fucking party or anything.”

He exhales a gentle chuckle. “Still, you didn’t…I mean, I didn’t expect anything.”

“Good. You shouldn’t.” You both smile. “Because this doesn’t change anything. I still hate you. I just…thought it would be a fun thing to do. So you wouldn’t have to be alone.”

Now he understands and the room suddenly feels so small. You figured he wouldn’t be celebrating his birthday this year. And you’d realized you’d never seen him celebrate before. And then…you figured out why.

Her.

You didn’t want him to go back to his empty apartment and be alone. You didn’t want him to have to pretend like this was just another day or drown himself in the memory of her.

You wanted to distract him. Give him a reason to enjoy himself. Celebrate his birth. Even if it was with you.

He sighs now as he pulls you closer. Squeezing your ass again before kissing the space between your breasts. “Well…other than the fact that you disobeyed me, this is really thoughtful.”

“I’m sorry…what?”

He nods once and you recognize that sadistic gleam in his eye. “How did you get this pretty little plug in, hm?”

Oh. “I…I put it in.”

“Uh-huh. How?”

“How do you think?”

He spanks you. Firm. The sound is sharp and it echoes through your apartment as you jolt. “Don’t be fucking smart, Princess. When I ask you a question…you answer it. Is that understood?”

You bite your lip. “I touched myself and then I put it in.”

“Mm.” He kisses over your nipple and up to your shoulder. “And do you realize how that was disobeying me?”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “In all fairness, it would have ruined the surprise if I fucking told you.”

He spanks you again. Harder this time. Painful. And your insides are on fire in the best possible way. “No. You won’t speak to me like that today. Will you?”

You shake your head. “No.”

“Good girl. What are you gonna do instead?”

“…I’m gonna give you your prize.”

He grins. “That’s fucking right. Turn around.”

You do. You stand from his lap and allow him to pull you apart until he can get a glimpse of the pretty toy inside.

And you can’t help but feel pleased with the way he exhales a tortured groan at the sight. “Fucking shit, Tinkerbell. Look at you…s’all for me, huh?”

You nod, even if he can’t really see you. “Yes.”

“Just wanted to be good to me, yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Wanted me to have a perfect present?”

You nod again and fight a shiver when you feel him run his finger over the tip. “Want you to have whatever you want.”

He makes another noise. “And you’re sure you could take it, baby? Sure you wouldn’t mind me playing with such a pretty little hole?”

“Please,” you breathe. “I can take it. I promise. Want to.”

He squeezes your hips. “And do you think you deserve it after disobeying me?”

“Yes…yes, please…please.”

“Hm. Maybe you do,” he admits. “Just this once. After being so sweet to me. Bet it’s killed you to have to be so nice, huh?”

You smile. “Kind of. You are the fucking worst.”

Another spank and you both make a desperate sound this time. He likes to watch the way your skin ripples beneath his hand. The way it reddens, the way it grows warm to the touch. And maybe you like it, too.

“We’ll start slow, yeah?” he says and gently begins to ease the toy out. “Just gonna give you my finger for now. Maybe next time we can do more—”

“Harry—”

His palm meets your ass again and you jump. “Tink, don’t argue with me. M’not gonna hurt you on my birthday. S’not fair very to me.”

Your eyes roll but you’re grinning. “Yeah, okay. But any other day you don’t mind?”

“Exactly.”

“Mm.” You sneak a glance over your shoulder. “Harry?”

“Yeah, Princess?”

“…are we okay?”

The sneaky touches stop as he turns you a bit so he can see you clearly. “What? Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I don’t know. I mean…this doesn’t cross a line or anything?”

Instantly, he removes his hands from your body. “We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable—”

“No, not that,” you correct quickly. “I mean…I mean me inviting you here and doing all this for your birthday. I just…I know we have a rule about not getting too personal and this kind of breaks it, but—”

“Tink.” He holds you again but only to capture your attention and bring you to a stop. “Why do you think I’m here?”

“Because when I call, you come running?”

He smirks and smacks your thigh. “No. I’m here because I want to be here. We make our own rules. We decide what we’re comfortable with. Yeah, it’s a little more personal than it was before but that’s okay. Because I couldn’t very well fuck your ass in the office, now, could I?”

You laugh.

“We’re okay,” he assures you. “More than okay. Nothing is gonna change how much I hate you. I promise.”

And it’s the best thing you’ve ever heard.

So, you turn back around and allow his large hands to run up and down your body in appreciation. He soaks in every inch of your skin. Every curve and mark and scar. He truly holds you like a prize and when he finally kicks your feet apart and slips his finger up your cunt and toward your ass…you’re gone.

“Breathe,” he instructs, and you do. “And tell me if you want me to stop.”

“I will.”

With this assurance, he eases the tip of his finger in your tighter hole and it’s oddly more satisfying than you expected. Sure, the plug had somewhat prepared you but this…

“Shit,” you whisper and he stills.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s…I like it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s…it’s really good.”

You can’t see him but you can picture his smile. “Good. Keep breathing, yeah? And try to relax for me, baby. S’gonna hurt if you don’t.”

You exhale slowly and allow your muscles to unwind. Giving him room to push in a bit further while his other hand strokes your hip.

“Doing so good, Tink,” he says. “God, you really would take my cock, wouldn’t you? Look so fucking pretty, all stretched out and needy.”

The image and lewd way he speaks nearly makes your knees give out, but he keeps you upright.

“Bet it’d look so sweet…dripping with my cum,” he murmurs as he pumps his finger a bit faster. “Bet you’d let me cum anywhere I wanted, wouldn’t you? Let me fill this cute little belly with all my kids—”

“Shit,” you say again and he hums.

“You think about it, don’t you? Think about the way it’d feel. The way your body would look…holding me inside—"

“God…fuck, Harry—”

“S’what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it? Wanna see your pretty tits get fuller, see your tummy filled with my babies—”

Your chin drops to your chest and you’re moments from slipping away. “Ha…Harry—”

“I know.” He’s fucking into you faster now, and even though it’s only one finger, it feels like ecstasy. A fullness you never imagined. “I know, baby. Maybe for my next birthday, yeah? Get you pregnant then.”

The reemergence of the breeding kink isn’t one you anticipated and yet, it leaves you enthralled. Even if you know you’ll likely never act on it.

But just when you’re beginning to settle into it, he’s suddenly retracting his hand and spinning you back around. You’re tugged onto the sofa, back first, without a moment of reprieve before he’s slotting himself between your thighs. And this time when his fingers find you…there’s four.

Two in your pussy…and two in your ass.

You arch from the couch and he’s relentless. Swallowing your gasps with greedy kisses and letting the sounds of your arousal echo through the room like an orchestra.

It’s beautiful and he’s beautiful. Even without his glasses, he’s the aggravatingly attractive man you’ve come to tolerate. And he’s so incredibly good at fucking into you like this. Abusing you and treating you all with the same hand.

And when you cum, you cum twice as hard.

This is his real present. This look on your face. The feel of your body clenching around him and he enjoys every fucking second of it.

He lets you throw an arm around his shoulders and tug him into your embrace. He lets you hold him and indulge in him and keep him in you for as long as possible.

“Shit,” you say for a third time and he laughs into your neck.

“Anal’s fun, right?”

“Fuck. Yeah. Maybe you were right.”

“I’m always right.”

“…wrong.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“You aren’t gonna argue with me on my birthday, are you? Cause me and my cock will go right home and leave you here, wet and desperate.”

Your nose scrunches but you laugh and lightly push him away. “God, you’re annoying. I forgot for a second with that post-orgasm bliss but thank god you’re consistent.”

He grins. Smug. “If you want me to fuck you, all you have to do is ask nicely.”

“Yeah…no.”

“Tink.”

“Daddy.”

The sadistic gleam returns. “Don’t test me, baby. I might have been nice, but I can think of plenty of other ways to have fun that won’t exactly be fun for you.”

And you want to test him, you do.

But today is his day. So you decide that you might as well let him win…just this once.

“Fine,” you concede before offering him your most innocent pout. “Please, Daddy…will you fuck my ass?”

And the look on his face…makes it absolutely worth it.

“Turn around.”

HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY!! Thanks for always being so kind and such a beacon of hope and light for so many!!! 💞💞💞💞

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