#or it’s more like. god won’t stop killing me. over and over and over and over
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One: “Thanks, I Hate You”
You and your arrogant PR client are bitter rivals, and there’s no length Loki won’t go to just to watch you squirm. Just when you think you’re going to get a much-needed break from the Great Redeemed Prince’s ego, you’re tapped to escort him to, of all things, a peace summit in Australia.
CONTENT WARNING: Loki's an asshole
WORD COUNT: 3.4k
MASTERLIST
“Mr. Odinson, tell me, how does it feel to be reformed for eighteen months now?”
“Mr. Laufeyson, actually, and it feels absolutely incredible, it’s as if my soul is free at last!”
“And you have no more genocidal urges or Asgardian instincts to kill?”
“Never again will I do harm to the people of this planet, who have so kindly agreed to give me a second chance after removing the influence of my--err---the scepter.”
Loki’s shit-eating grin unfolded across his face, but to the untrained eye, he looked every bit the contrite warlord who fell in love with the world he’d once targeted for conquest. He could twitch and tweak every muscle in his face into the optimal layout for ass-kissing, and the only ones who were ever wise were you and the rest of the team.
“At least he plays the part well,” you said bitterly to Tony, leaning over to mutter in his ear while watching the former ‘God’ play up the press like they were at a rock concert. Some of the reporters looked downright charmed, but you knew better. You were more interested in the snow flurries that were falling outside the window.
Tony shrugged. “Yeah, he’s okay.”
You sneered, rolling your eyes with disbelief. “Until the flash bulbs stop. Then he becomes a baboon’s taint.”
Stark muffled a snort of laughter with his fist. “Always one for eloquence. That’s why I hired you.”
“I’m also the only one around willing to wrangle that,” you paused, pointing at Loki as he folded his hands into a prayer pose, expressing gratitude for the praise he was receiving, “for your pittance of an asking price.”
“I pay you well,” Tony shot back in defense. “Loki knows how to keep up appearances--”
“--he took off his pants in the lunchroom yesterday to annoy me--”
“--most of the time.”
You folded your arms across your chest, glancing at the clock on the wall behind Loki as things in the press room wrapped up. In his very basic outfit: a dress shirt and tie, black slacks, and a tight, professional ponytail, he looked dashing enough. You’d known the truth about him for the eighteen months since you were hired to be his PR manager: Loki had all of the behavioral maturity of an eight-year-old high on pixie sticks. He loved attention, always jutting out his hips when he strutted about the complex, flipping his hair over his shoulder.
Loki loved to paint himself as the very model of a modern major comeback story. At first, it was for self-preservation. The terms of his parole as set forth by the UN were strict, and the best course of action to keep his freedom was to play by their rules. Over the next year-and-a-half, however, once it was clear that his image was evolving into that of a celebrity, Loki took the idea and ran with it, and he only used your unsavory opinion of his to fuel the fire he lit under your feet every chance he got.
It was almost as if he targeted you with most of his snarks and jests, always calling you every synonym for ‘boring’ he could muster. For a while, you could brush him off, but after the repeated comments, you began to push back…which led you to your current relationship status: tense at best, resentful and irritable more frequently.
You could not stand him! He never listened to your advice on how to conduct himself in public. One of his favorite pastimes was inviting the worst kinds of people over for sex, and then making you call them afterwards to dump them. “Loki isn’t sure he’s ready to fully commit to one person yet, but last night will always live in his memory…” It was degrading, gross, and such a slimeball move. You always sent each of his poor conquests a fruit basket the size of SoHo.
The only reason you refused to resign was that you really needed the money. Despite your repeated complaints, Tony was actually paying you very well. You could afford an apartment with a private toilet in Manhattan, anyway.
“And that’s all we have time for this afternoon, everyone,” Tony leapt onto the stage and gently nudged Loki away from the podium. “We’re all proud of Loki’s rehabilitation, as well as his decision to live among us and help the Avengers keep this world safe.”
The applause was thunderous. You bit your lower lip and got another glimpse of the snow squall outside while Loki bowed and mouthed thanks to his supporters. Every second you could successfully divert your attention away from the Asgardian was a victory. Alas, it was temporary.
As soon as he left the stage, he gave you a smarmy, evil wink. “Better than ever, wouldn’t you say?”
“Hercules couldn’t clean out all the bullshit in your stables, Loki,” you said with an exasperated sigh.
“Successfully convincing the world of your contrition is an art, you know.”
“So is painting on walls with shit, to some.”
Loki couldn’t help but snicker under his breath, You were the most feisty woman he’d ever met, aside from maybe Natasha Romanoff. “I see we’re fond of the scatalogical comebacks today. Doesn’t that mean your menses are coming on?”
You could have whirled around on your heels and punched him, but your restraint was enough to keep your professional demeanor, at least until you were out of public sight and in one of the private areas. There were still a LOT of people around and your entire job was keeping up appearances for both yourself and your charge. “I have a headache today, Loki, please shut up and let me do my job.”
“So it is your cycle!” he chortled, putting his hands on his hips. “Do you know what they say helps with menstrual cramps?”
���Don’t!” you warned between gritting teeth, giving Loki a glare of death. “I mean it!”
Loki paused, as if he was actually going to listen. Then he opened his trap, and it came out: “a good hard dicking!”
There it was. Your line. Loki had crossed it so far that he was about to meet customs on the other side.
You slapped him across his right cheek hard enough for his head to whip to the side. Of course, he was able to recover from it quickly, only to pout his lips and widen his eyes when several gasps from the reporters still in the press room silenced everything else. Loki’s snarky smile never left his face, especially as he looked back at you with a somewhat more venomous twinge.
“It’s 2024,” you scowled, “try something less sexist than blaming my period next time, assbag.”
“So violent,” he said lightly. “So attractive. No wonder you have so many dates…oh wait, that’s me!” he said mockingly, putting a hand over his heart and acting surprised. “I have all the dates, and you’re the one who resents that and takes it out on me by hitting me in front of all of my friends!”
He dropped his sarcastic smile, replacing it with narrow, threatening eyes and a thin frown. “Embarrass me like that again, woman, I dare you.”
“I only resent that you make me clean your dirty sheets afterwards, asshole,” you answered. “I don’t really care how many strains of herpes you intend to collect from the Greater New York area. You’re a pampered little twat, and I really do deserve more money for babysitting you.”
You started to leave, but you quickly thought better of it and walked back to say one more thing. “And I will gladly smack you in front of these people any day of the week! No one else is going to put you in your place!”
“And what place is that, Madam?” he asked, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow.
Nearby, a young blonde reporter who was clearly one of Loki’s fans had taken special interest, and was trying to shoot as many desperate glances at him as she could, asking for her turn in his bed with only verbal cues from across a crowded room.
“I’d say Hell, but you probably have a permanent residence there already.”
You noticed the blonde was starting to inch closer, and in her stupid, beady little eyes you saw your escape. “I think I see your Skank of the Day coming in for the steal right now.”
Loki turned to look at the blonde reporter, and he looked somewhat unimpressed. “I suppose. The only other creature in here with any sort of beauty is--”
He stopped mid-thought and decided to go back into his debonair facade, waving you away snobbishly and sticking his nose up. “You’re done for the day, I think. Now please leave me to woo this exquisite little doll who approaches…”
You did have some work you needed him for. There was a peace summit in Australia hosted by Amnesty International, and Loki was a keynote speaker, having been spared from the death penalty and turned into the Earth’s darling. He was the world’s most instantly-recognizable proof that anyone could be rehabilitated, which made him a highly desirable motivational speaker. The summit was in three days, and you needed to brief him on the PR person taking over your duties once he crossed the international dateline.
He could terrorize the Land Down Under for five days all he wanted. You were about to have your first vacation from the miserable fucker since starting your job. This was going to be your Christmas.
However, you didn’t feel like dragging him away from the little hopeful moving in on him, and instead you decided to begin packing your bag for your long-desired break from Loki.
“She what?!” you growled in anger, turning away from Stark and Banner to hide that fact that you were almost instantly upset by their news.
“Mrs. Donner resigned yesterday,” said Bruce Banner, twiddling his thumbs apprehensively, making him look like a human-sized pangolin. “She’s not taking Loki to Australia.”
“WHY NOT? She’s more qualified than I am!” you bullshitted, doing anything to try and convince these two to go after her. You knew what this meant, but you weren’t ready to accept it just yet. You were a fighter, and you sure as hell weren’t going to sacrifice your time off now.
“She’s also a Mormon. I’m surprised she put up with Loki’s harassment as long as she has,” replied Banner.
“Or maybe she enjoyed it so much she had to jet off to Planet More-Men or whatever heaven is for them,” Stark mumbled.
“It doesn’t matter,” you said, brushing the air in front of you as if erasing something off of an invisible chalk board, “what does matter is who we are going to send him with. His parole terms state he cannot cross international boundaries alone.”
“C”mon, Y/N, you know where this is going!” said Tony with a wink.
“No,” you said firmly.
“It’ll be summer down there,” said Banner, “It’ll be nicer than here in New York.”
“No!” you repeated. “My vacation!”
Stark rolled his eyes. “I know, I know, that’s why I’m offering you a month’s paid sabbatical after you return.”
“No…I…what?” your fast, angry thoughts slowed on the conveyor belt as you began processing his counteroffer. “I was only scheduled for a week!”
Tony nodded. “Yeah, I’m quadrupling that right now, I’ll even get it in writing if you want. I can do that. I’m awesome like that.”
A month! A month without Loki poking fun of your ‘menses’ or humiliating you with jests and quips under his breath. A whole month of sleeping in late, dressing like a slob, and not worrying about how you or any client of yours appeared to the public. Tony Stark certainly knew how to play your game.
“You must be desperate,” you sighed, thinking about it.
“Well, if Loki can’t attend the summit, it’ll look kinda bad,” Bruce added, his low, bashful voice somewhat harder to hear than Tony’s confident tone.
“I’ll get you VIP passes to any club in the city for the whole month you’re off,” Tony added. “Four of them. And unlimited cocktail service. Live like a movie star for the next month, and all you have to do is babysit our little horndog for five days in Aussieland this week.”
“Deal,” you acquiesced at last, not missing a beat. “I’ll do it.”
“Excellent.”
All three of you turned your heads toward the intrusive new voice in the room. Loki was leaning against the doorway to the office, arms folded, a shit-eating sneer on his face. You felt your skin go hot at his sudden, unwelcome appearance.
“I was hoping that my exertions manipulating that old dowager into quitting would bear fruit, and now it seems I’m just time for my little trip with my dearest friend in the Realm!”
“Easy, Lokes,” said Stark, holding back a laugh. “Don’t push it, ok?”
You bit your lip to keep your temper. It didn’t make any difference if you kept protesting. You’d taken Stark’s carrot, and now you had five days of this jester’s extraterrestrial farts to sniff.
“Oh, I’m sure the next few days will include plenty of pushing about,” said Loki.
Tony raised an eyebrow and began following Banner as he snuck out of the room. “Be on the roof tomorrow morning. Oh, and uh, the quinjet has got some issues so it can’t go any faster than Mach 1.5 right now. Means it’ll take a little longer to get out there. Hope you two can get comfortable with one another real fast.”
“You…you set this up,” you hissed, your anger bubbling to the surface now that your employer was out of range. “I ought to ask your father to hang you.”
This only made him laugh. “He would only love the pleasure, I’m sure.”
And I would love to see your corpse swinging by the neck, you thought. “Why? Why did you do this?” you asked with frustration. “You hate me and I absolutely hate you, Loki, so why force us to be in closer proximity for longer than necessary?”
“Oh, I couldn’t stand the idea of being apart from you, sweet pea! It’s my greatest delight in life to always hover five paces behind you and piss you off. The mere idea of being so far away for so long!” Loki brought a mocking hand to his heart, expressing fake sadness in both his body and face. “My heart would only cry for you.”
“I should just make you go alone and make an ass of yourself,” you suggested. “Maybe some Australian hell-beast will swallow you whole.”
“Oh-ho! By all means,” Loki chuckled, throwing his head back. “Let me loose without supervision in a foreign country as the sole representative of the United States, the Nine Realms, and the Avengers. That will go over well for all of us.”
Your jaw hung open, no witty retorts for him, Unfortunately, he was right. Punking out would in one way or another, only serve to humiliate yourself and Stark.
“Ah, ah…” Loki tucked a finger under your chin, nudging your mouth closed by poking your chin upward, “You’ll catch flies.”
He left you there, speechless in the middle of the room, only turning back in the doorway to add: “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, darling!”
Before going to bed that night, curled up in your sad little futon in your one-bedroom loft, you prayed to every god that wasn’t Asgardian that there would be some kind of apocalyptic blizzard that popped up out of nowhere, forcing the takeoff to be delayed. Inclement weather was probably the only acceptable excuse for Loki to be a no-show down in Sydney. WHile the city didn;t necessarily get as much snow as upstate near the lakes, it usually took a few inches to shut the whole place down. There was hope. Perhaps the weatherfolks were keeping it a surprise…
This meant, of course, that the next morning was the first perfectly sunny morning New York had seen in weeks. In a small act of rebellion against the little shit you had to babysit, you chose to take your sweet time getting in. You purposefully dragged your feet down to the subway, your suitcase dragging along like a weight tethered to your wrist. You saw an abnormally-long line outside of a coffee shop and decided to stop in for an Americano.
By the time you made it to the rooftop of Stark Tower, you were over an hour late, which was not typical for you. The jet was otherwise prepped, the diminutive young pilot tapping his feet impatiently by the nose, Stark and Loki just tossing the last of his belongings in around the side.
“Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” said Tony.
Loki dropped what he was doing and shuffled up to you. He gave a mock bow, taking your hand and laying a big wet kiss on the back of it. “My escort, how lovely to finally see your bright face ready for our trip!”
“Die.”
Loki pouted. “Oh, is that any way to greet your business partner? I asked for you to be at my side all week long! Don’t you think I’m owed a little more courtesy?”
“Please die.”
“That’s my girl.”
Just before you boarded, Tony gave you a wink and one last piece of advice: “Remember, when the going gets tough, lie back and think of England.”
The last thing he saw before the doors shut was your middle finger.
Once the pilot got the quinjet into the air, he announced that he’d need to take his time in order to appease whatever yet-to-be-diagnosed tech issue the plane had, and prevent something from happening.
“Ugh, so what’s our ETA, then?” Loki asked impatiently, the saccharine facade dropping the instant he was out of Stark’s view.
The pilot shrugged. “I can get us there safely in five hours, maybe.”
“FIVE HOURS?” you groaned. “This thing is--”
“--gonna disintegrate if I don’t treat it gently,” he shot back. “Relax! It’s still a hell of a lot faster than if you were flying in a Boeing, okay?”
You and Loki looked at each other with annoyance. You sighed and went to sit as far away from the cockpit as you could, taking a green-jacketed book from your shoulder bag and flipping it open a bit too dramatically.
Unfortunately, Loki didn’t seem to take the hint, sitting beside you and peeking over your shoulder.
“You kept us waiting on purpose,” he accused. “You’re a bit of a brat, you know.”
You couldn’t take it anymore. Gently shutting the book, you turned to Loki with the most serious expression you could muster without losing your professionalism.
“Look, Laufeyson, you’re the one who set this up for us. If I had to venture a guess, it’s because you’re bored and needed a new way to make me miserable. But let’s make one thing perfectly clear: I hate you. I can’t stand your smarmy face and how you get off on making me crazy! Every time you open your mouth, it makes me want to drop-kick an orphan! I’d rather have a root canal while on ecstasy every day for the rest of my life than be sitting right here next to you.”
Loki didn’t blink. “...and how does that make you feel?”
“But I’m getting my big payout when this is all over, so for FUCK’S SAKE, let’s make this easy on both of us? You don’t bother me, I won’t bother you. You can find a kangaroo’s pouch to ride around in for all I care.” You went to open your book again, but Loki laid a firm hand over top of it.
“I’m hurt. Truly.”
You snickered. “Sure.”
“You know what your problem is?” Loki leaned back, crossing his hands casually. “You’re too uptight.”
“Uptight? You call me defending myself against all of your abuse UPTIGHT?” you growled from behind your gritted teeth.
“Well, it wasn’t abuse at first,” Loki added, “I was only making jokes to say hello!”
“Bullshit,” you said angrily. “The day we met, you called me a servant and asked if I would massage your feet.”
“Well, now it’s just fun for me to watch you lose your temper,” he admitted. “The thought of being alone with you to twist and push every button you’ve got just to see how loudly you’d shout…”
“Stop it, Loki! I’d rather this plane go down right now than be alone with you. Ever!”
Tags: @anukulee @jiyascepter @wolfsmom1 @cakesandtom @holdmytesseract @simplyholl @lokisgoodgirl @mjsthrillernp @meowmeow-motherfucker @foxherder @letstalkaboutshtufff @ladymischief11 @libby-bibby @javagirl328 @crimson25 @lcolumbia1988 @gruftiela @mochie85 @huntress-artemiss @loz-3 @kikster606 @muddyorbsblr @sheris532 @lokischambermaid @kneelingformyloki @soulpiercing @goddessgirl43 @canigetanap @theoneandonlythorn @forleiasake @eleniblue @knight-of-the-doctor @goblingirlsarah @clusterfuck-meup @mischief2sarawr @cabingrlandrandomcrap @kats72 @glitchquake @zippythewondersquirrel @ameliariddle @alexakeyloveloki @lovingchoices14
#loki#fanfiction#mcu#mcu loki#loki x reader#loki fanfiction#mcu fanfiction#loki laufeyson#loki/reader#loki smut#loki comedy#island fic#deserted island#alone with loki#enemies to lovers#Avenger!Loki#Avengers#Island AU#Smutty loki#island fever#thor#tony stark#natasha romanoff#bruce banner#steve rogers#sam wilson#captain america#rescue fic#deserted island trope#marvel loki
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Hey, sorry to trouble you. Unsure of your time zone so i hope this is sent at a good time! (Sorry if it isn't!)
Could you maybe do something with Vox and a Reader who saves him from a surprise attack via a Sinner or Angel?
Kinda the Reader just like 'Oh sorry i got blood on you. Glad you're okay.' With Vox unsure if he wants this person under contact or to kiss them. Or do whatever go nuts!
(I have no idea what timezone I’m in tbh, I’m too lazy to check. As I’m posting this it is 10:50 AM where I live, if that helps anyone. No worries, though! I love answering all your asks and writing out posts based on your requests!)
“Walking downtown, avoiding the paparazzi…” Vox muttered to himself. He’d really done it this time. He was trying to avoid being out of the Vee tower for too long, but he’d taken a detour with almost no Voxtek cameras. Now he couldn’t teleport. It made him uneasy. “God fucking damnit…”
“Stop right there, bitch,” a sinner demon said, pointing a gun at him. Vox froze, but not out of fear. He was surprised first, that a sinner demon would try to hurt an Overlord. This one must be new, or arrogant. But as he looked at the gun, he couldn’t help the tidal wave of emotions that over came him, all memories of compromising situations- similar situations- he’d been in when he was alive. “That’s right, now… put your hands where I can see them.”
Vox absentmindedly complied, still partially reliving every single time he’d had a gun pointed at him before. Every wound he’d received, every bullet he’d had to fish out of his own flesh.
“Good, now-”
The sinner demon was cut off brutally. With an axe. To its neck. Its head came off with ease and you stood behind it, looking surprised. Vox’s eyes widened. Now he was vaguely afraid.
“Oh. I didn’t expect it to be so… fragile,” you said, nudging the corpse of the demon lightly. “Huh. Well, in any case…” you looked up to Vox, an apologetic look on your face. “Sorry about that. Did I get any blood on your suit? I can cover the expenses.”
“I… uh,” Vox was speechless. He’d just frozen up in front of a lowlife sinner demon and had been saved by another, who was now apologizing to him. What the fuck. Something had to be wrong with him, especially with these weird feelings he had in his chest. Felt all fluttery and stupid like butterflies. “My suit is fine. I narrowly avoided the splash zone, I think. Thank you for your offer.”
“Of course! Not a problem,” you said with a smile. Vox noticed you hadn’t stepped any closer to him, you’d kept your distance. But you’d put your axe away. You knew who he was and how dangerous he was, how defenseless you were in comparison, but you were still talking to him. Did you feel superior to him just because you’d saved him? No, that couldn’t be it… you seemed so… genuine. “Seedy part of town for a business man like yourself to be in. I’m guessing the paparazzi were a nightmare today?”
“Oh absolutely,” Vox said with a grin. He was quickly regaining his confident demeanor. “It was absolute torture at that interview! Ah, but don’t tell anyone I said that. It wouldn’t be good for my image. I’m sure you can keep a secret,” he said, linking his arm in yours and walking with you. This was a test.
“Definitely,” you said, with a small laugh. “It’d be far more embarrassing for me, anyway. I mean, the fact I interrupted your walk through town? With murder, no less! That was quite rude of me.” You smiled, carefree and lighthearted as he walked you away. You didn’t even know where he was taking you, but you were still so upbeat. “No worries. If you don’t tell anyone about that little incident back there, I won’t say a word about your occasional distaste for public attention.”
“Wonderful! Sounds like a deal, then,” Vox said, looking down at you. He was pleased with how this whole thing had gone. You hadn’t even seen him as weak for freezing up in front of that other sinner demon! You probably thought he was annoyed or planning to kill the demon himself. His image was safe, you didn’t suspect a thing. You had no idea how vulnerable he’d been in the moment back there. “Say, how about we make another, more official deal? Something with some actual benefits.”
“Really?” You asked, looking surprised. “I mean, I don’t have much to offer. We only just met and-”
“And you’ve piqued my interest, dear,” he said with a smile. He held your arm tighter, more protectively. Whether you agreed to anything or not, he’d be keeping you around. “I have a feeling we’ll get to know each other very well.”
#hazbin hotel#vox#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin vox#writing#vox x reader#my writing#x reader#reader insert#thanks anon!
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Duncan Idaho needs those ‘God won’t let me die’ booty shorts more than anyone. Poor dude
#started god emperor. Leto. Leto why#or it’s more like. god won’t stop killing me. over and over and over and over#dune#god emperor of dune#Duncan Idaho#dune spoilers
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I had a really great time going out to dinner with my mom and nana tonight at a nice restaurant but nana believes in conspiracy theories and my mom and I have to keep debunking the bs sources she pulls out in a joking way to keep her from getting too defensive about how we don’t agree and I’m so tired. God fucking help me.
And then they’re like. Both loudly and condescendingly agreed about the whole “men and women can’t be friends” thing and that men and women have completely different brains/ in general most men are waiting to fuck you instead of genuinely caring about you as a person (and they did that FUCKING CONDESCENDING exaggerated laugh w/ eachother over it. I know most men have misogyny and treat women badly. And that they talk about us differently behind our backs. No fucking shit. But it’s not everyone, and believing so stringently that it’s impossible to have a true genuine friendship without either wanting to fuck eachother annoys and hurts me. How can we ever move forward to a less misogynistic world if we ourselves refuse to build real friendships with the opposite sex regardless of gender.) and frankly that kicked the Gender Issues bruise in my heart and I just Was Not Having It at the end of the night
#still a great dinner and I’m almost cooled off from how annoyed I was and I was very fucking patient about it#but GOD DAMNNNNN IIIITTTTTT AAAUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHHHHH#my patience was unusually thin tonight because they both kept bulldozing over any attempt to talk I made#and they’re both LOUD#because my nana won’t STOP TALKING TO LET SOMEONE ELSE TALK#and she yells because she can’t fucking hear but refuses to acknowledge it and when someone yells it makes me aggressive#and she INSISTS that we’re BRAINWASHED because we DISAGREE WITH HER#this is the closest I’ve ever gotten to using my tumblr like a diary I’m that fucking close to my limit#I still have to wrap the presents and pack#but I really really need to decompress#and I fucking hate that they’re both like. staunch believers in gene essentialist bullshit to cope with the shitty men in their lives#because like. that perspective that men and women are totally different animals just.#always brings up the memories of every debunked sexist claim about women and men I’ve worked so hard to un-internalize for my own sanity#and self confidence#I’m a cos woman I don’t even have the added pain of questions/transition but it’s still excruciating when that hornets nest is kicked#because it makes me think like. if they’re right and men and women have completely different brains (not just some differences)#does that make every nasty cruel misogynist claim about women- and thus me as a person- true?#are all my male friends really just. not actually my friends then#it’s just our biology motivating us to keep our options open#might just kill myself if we truly are nothing but a set a of steps towards fucking (which we aren’t btw. if we were we’d be more like#cicadas#or those moths with no mouth.#and we sure as hell wouldn’t live so long beyond our reproductive years. we are built for survival#not just reproduction)
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fuck R <3
#this is the worst#it just feels like. let’s give this guy a bunch of rlly hard work to do#and put him in a situation completely removed from all his normal coping mechanisms. wouldn’t that be fucked up#like I have no desk! I have no space! my room is my brother’s room and I have to work on my bed while he’s playing fucking fortnite#on a call w his friends with the fucking strip led lights in BLUE-WHITE. and he’s sitting right next to me with a massive fucking moniter#and then downstairs my mum is incapable of shutting up for more than 30 seconds and the dogs won’t ever stop#I love my dogs but oh my god they’re not trained. they fucked up so incredibly insanely badly with both of them they barely tried#and now they wonder why they don’t listen to us.#the best!! the absolute best I ever get is when my parents move the shit they dump in my sisters room when she’s not here somewhere#so I can sit on her bed and work on my own#it always fucking kills my back and I really don’t like having to be in there but honestly?#my own room is even more hostile since my brother took over when I went to uni and has been sloooowly changing stuff. it’s his room.#i told them I wasn’t gonna come home for long this year bc I don’t have the time for it and I should’ve stuck to it#I just let my mum guilt me into coming back this time#but also!!! literally every time we’re on the phone!!! she’s like luuuke I can’t wait until you come home how long til you’re home now#when are you coming back how many weeks has it been now are you coming home soon are you looking forward to coming home hurry up now#I really thought I’d be able to manage it this time but I think this is a new record for hitting a breaking point#I’ve only been back for like 30 hours#i cant fucking deal with this but I have no other choice and I have no fucking clue what I’m meant to do now#I’m. going to try work on the easier code. it’ll be fine.#luke.txt
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#why do I still feel like I need you so much?#I know nostalgia is a liar sometimes and all that but God it’s still killing me when it hits so hard like this#all I want to do is talk to you all day and have a really long conversation like we used to#I’d be willing to bet that even though today is a ‘lazy day’ for you I still won’t get more than 1-2 messages from you all day#I just don’t know what changed or why#and if I bring it up it’ll just start a fight again like last time so I’m basically never allowed to be bothered by this ever again#I still want what we had back and I hate that I want that so badly even though I know we can never have that again#I shouldn’t care this much and should be able to move on with my life but I can’t get my feet under me#I feel like I’ll always be begging you or someone else for attention and affection and whatever else for the rest of my life#I feel like I’ll never truly get what I want or get to be fully and completely happy/satisfied all the way around#my thoughts are a jumble and are all over the place and I’m just babbling at this point#but my chest feels tight and I’m holding back tears and this shit always hits me out of nowhere and I don’t know why it keeps happening#I don’t know how to stop feeling this way or distract myself or process it or move on#I can’t predict when it’s going to hit or what triggers it completely so I can never make it stop it seems#and it just makes me want you back even more which makes it all hurt worse again#I think of my girlfriend and how she doesn’t deserve a partner who’s still dealing with this shit and thinking about someone else#I feel so guilty all the time because I’m still thinking about you so much and I can’t get you out of my head#she’s the one I should be thinking about and feeling everything for#and we’re about 90% there overall so it’s not like I’m not trying to put all of myself into our relationship#it’s just that last 10% I can’t seem to fix and that’s why I’m so ashamed of myself#yet I still can’t move on from you and I don’t know why#you carved yourself out a piece of my soul and how do I get that back? I don’t know#personal
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Dp x dc prompt
So this starts with Danny becoming the ghost king on his 18th birthday and almost immediately every power-hungry ghost in existence starts proposing to him. At first he just ignores it but after the 10th time someone tries to kidnap him to marry him Greek god style, he’s fucking sick of it and goes to Clockwork for help.
He’s not much help. The only way for other people to stop trying to marry him is if he’s already married. What’s more, because he’s the king of the infinite realms, it has to be someone that’s considered a citizen of the Infinite Realms. (Like he can marry someone that’s still alive but they wouldn’t count and people will just keep trying to marry him) CW also warns him that people will try and kill anyone he marries if they can so a living person isn’t really ideal. The only bit of real helpfulness he does provide is a list of non-evil non-power-hungry citizens so he can have an easier time finding someone.
So Danny takes the list and starts crossing of names (like Johnny, even tho the guy won’t abuse the power of being the ghost princess, kitty would kill Danny for good this time) when he comes across the perfect candidate.
Jason Todd (Robin/Red Hood)
He’s been to Gotham before, knows the Robins all do good work and knows the Red Hood is already a good and fair ruler of his criminal underground. Plus the guy could definitely fight off any ghost trying to kill him even without the power boost and some helpful weapons Danny would give him if he agrees. Plus he has the perfect bargaining chip to get the guy to help by offering to fix the corrupted ectoplasm in him (not that he wasn’t gonna do that anyway when he had the time to but Hood didn’t need to know that)
So Danny hops over to Gotham and after quickly getting permission from Lady Gotham (she’s very protective of her Knights) heads over to crime ally and pitches the idea to Red Hood.
Which basically goes like-
Danny: so I give u, the title of prince, access to the Infinite Realms whenever u wish, a sweet private wing in my castle, any of the op ghost weapons in the castles armoury and a fix for ur rage problems and u marry me so I stop getting people trying to propose to me in increasingly more annoying ways :)
Jason, a literature geek with a secret desire to be the protagonist in a shitty YA romance: u had me at Prince
So the two of then jump over to the Infinite Realms to get married thinking it’ll take 30 minutes top only to learn that CW left out that a Royal wedding has to take at minimum a week otherwise no one will consider the Marriage valid. So the two, not backing out at this point, join in on the week of parties and celebrations without putting much more thought into it.
Meanwhile back in Gotham, after not having Red Hood check in after his patrol, Oracle searches CCTV and finds Jason having a conversation with a figure that is glitching out the camera to much to identify them, then the figure seemingly grabs Jason and drags him into a portal and the two of them disappear.
So obviously the Batfam comes to the conclusion that Jason was kidnapped by some sort of magical being and calls in John. He identify the magic as that of the ghost king’s and has been hearing that the king had been looking for a bride so comes to the conclusion that Jason has been kidnapped Persephone style to be be married and is under the (wrong) conclusion that it will mean Jason can’t leave the realm of the death after.
And so the Batfam + Constantine start planing to crash a wedding.
#dp x dc#danny fenton#jason todd#jason x danny#dead on main#batfam#Danny and Jason r basically Hades and Persephone#at least in the Batfam a POV#jason is having the time of his life#fake dating#kinda???#more like marriage for tax benefits
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Seeing stars
Welp, I wrote more porn.
Astarion x F!Tav/F!Reader
18+, smut, porn with plot, porn with feelings, jealous Astarion, soft dom Astarion, dirty talk, fingering, PIV, elf ears and more! Humour, banter and fluff mixed in per usual. Tav failing several insight checks in the process.
I also poke fun at the in-game romance mechanics, and Wyll's Act 2 scene in particular.
This is the last time they have sex before the "I want us to be something real" conversation.
Approx. 2,900 words
“You won’t believe the ludicrous encounter I just had with Wyll.”
You burst into Astarion’s tent. Well, it was ‘Astarion’s’ tent only notionally at this point. Yours still stood, but it now served solely as storage space for your assorted junk. You had effectively moved in with Astarion, having first coerced him into replacing the wooden plank and bloodstained rags he slept on with some sensible rugs and blankets.
Astarion lounged half-naked on one of the bedrolls, reading something by candlelight.
“Oh?” he looked up at you. “Do tell.”
“First the massage you promised earlier,” you said sinking down onto the floor of the tent and stripping off most of your clothes. “My back is killing me after carrying everyone all day.”
“Oh please...” he rolled his eyes. “I recall you nearly walked into your own cloud of daggers, again, and would have if I hadn’t pulled you away in time. And then you blasted Lae’zel off a cliff. It’s a wonder we haven’t kicked you out yet.” He shook his head. “And if you’re carrying anyone, I’m the one carrying you.”
Still, he sat up as you laid down on your stomach.
“Who do you think you’re fooling with this modesty, darling?” he murmured, noticing that you’d kept your underwear on. “Just lose it now,” he added, as he slid it off, leaving you completely naked, before he settled over you, his fingers commencing work on your shoulders. “So what happened with Wyll?”
“I was making my way back here, and found him... performing some kind of jig by the campfire, pretending like he didn’t know I was there.”
“The ‘Blade of Frontiers’, dancing alone in the middle of camp?” Astarion snickered. “Did you mock him? Please tell me you mocked him.”
“Well... I was going to, but then he asked me to dance with him, very earnestly.”
“That scoundrel...” he mused. “And let me guess - you agreed, didn’t you?”
“Oh trust me, at that point it would have been more awkward not to dance with him, I had to play along.”
Astarion scoffed, with a chuckle.
“Do you always go along with whatever people want from you just because it would be too awkward to say no?”
"I try not to – last time I did, I ended up with a vampire who won’t stop sucking me dry,” you deflected. “I figured there was no harm in indulging him. Besides, I don’t see you dancing with me. It was kind of nice,” you teased.
“I hate dancing,” he said.
“Right,” you said. “I’m sure you hate dancing just as much as you hate poetry, flowers, art, cats... What else?”
“Children,” he answered. “I also can’t stand children.”
“No, that one I could see being true,” you grinned.
“So anyway, you two dolts pranced around the fire to the sound of crickets, then what?”
“And then he tried to kiss me,” you admitted, with a sigh.
Astarion’s hands paused for a moment before resuming their work, slightly harder than before.
“Well look at you, receiving the Duke Ravengard’s heir’s attention. Moving up in the world, hmm?”
“I didn’t let him.”
He laughed.
“Is there even a single person left in camp that hasn’t tried to get into your pants, darling?”
You had to think for a moment.
“Are we counting Volo?”
“Sure.”
“Then just Karlach and Withers.”
“Gods, I fucking love Karlach,” he murmured. “Don’t tell her I said that.”
“Why? Getting jealous all of a sudden?”
Astarion was silent for a few moments.
“I just don’t understand it,” he said. “You’re with me every night. I’m at your side every day. They see us. They hear us. Still, they don’t take me – or you and me – seriously. Tell me, is there something about me that screams: ‘Please, go ahead and take my lover for yourself. Come on in and snatch her right out from under me, I don’t mind’?”
Perhaps you’d made a bad judgment call when you thought Astarion would find the absurdity of the situation humorous rather than offensive. Still, you had to bite your cheek to keep from laughing at the dramatics he added to the delivery of the last few lines that left his mouth.
“Stop laughing,” he said.
“I’m not laughing,” you laughed.
“I can feel your back muscles twitching in your efforts.”
“Well, they’re aware this all started as a joke. Perhaps they never realised that it’s long stopped being one?” you offered.
Astarion’s hands had been moving lower and lower along your back. They had now reached your ass and continued to rub, stroke and squeeze, as you let out a soft groan.
“That’s not my back, Astarion.”
One of his hands kept squeezing an ass cheek, while the other dipped to stroke you between your legs. He gave a satisfied hum when two of his fingers entered you effortlessly.
“Maybe if they could see how wet I can make you just by rubbing your back they’d reconsider how much of a joke this is,” he said, his voice low. He continued to pump his fingers in and out – you were almost embarrassed by the loud squelching sounds that came out of you. You moaned and tried to lift your hips higher, but your legs were encased between his thighs, pinned down on the bedroll. “Do you think you’d be reacting this way to young Ravengard, darling?”
“Stop it,” you hissed. “You know I don’t want anyone but you.”
“Stop?” he pulled his fingers out, to your dissatisfied whine. You looked back to see him studying your slick on his fingers. “I should go smear this on his face right now... The audacity to try to get his hands on what is not his.” He licked his fingers clean instead. He turned his attention back to you.
“Maybe if you were more vocal about your devotion to me the others wouldn’t make these mistakes.”
His hand returned between your legs, spreading your wetness and slipping lower to tease your clit.
“I could be... encouraged... to be more vocal about it,” you breathed, trying to grind against his hand.
“Yes... I should make you scream my name, so they all know who you belong to.”
His fingers returned inside you, teasing you with shallow strokes.
“You can try,” you taunted him.
Astarion let out an indignant huff and shifted to spread your legs open with his knees, simultaneously placing a hand on your back to firmly hold you down. You expect to feel his cock enter you, but he continued to stroke you with his fingers, turning his hand to curl them downwards.
“Is that a challenge, darling?” he asked, his voice dangerously low. “You should know better by now than to bet against me,” he said, continuing to flex his fingers inside you.
It started off pleasant enough, but rapidly grew into... more. And more. You weren’t sure what he was doing but whatever it was, it was just about making you see stars.
You sputtered as the new sensation started to take hold of your whole being.
“Ast… what..”
You couldn't manage anything coherent, as his fingers continued to dig into you, gradually picking up speed and pressure. You started to squirm to try to get away despite yourself, but he simply put more weight against the hand on your back, securely pinning you to the bedroll.
“Always getting yourself into situations you're not prepared for…" he murmured. "You're not talking your way out of this one.”
His fingers were relentless. You were worried you really would scream and wake everyone in camp. All you could do was bite down on the pillow, hoping that it would muffle your drawn-out moans.
“Let go, darling... I know you want to.”
It's not so much that you let go – rather, all your decorum was ripped from you, as your muscles convulsed, the orgasm rolling through your entire body. You panted and shuddered, trying to keep quiet, your hands clutching desperately at the covers beneath you, trying to hold on to anything like your life depended on it.
Once the feeling subsided, you came back to your senses to find Astarion hovering over you, kissing the back of your neck and shoulders, grazing them with his fangs, almost but not quite hard enough to draw blood. You felt his erection rubbing against your hip.
“Has anyone fucked you like this before?” he whispered hoarsely into your ear, his breath ragged from his own arousal. “Tell me.”
“No,” you gasped, trying to catch your own breath.
“I thought so,” he whispered with a smile, kissing your neck before he sat back up.
You turned back to look at him over your shoulder. He watched you with a self-satisfied grin, his fingers returning to stroke you lightly between your legs once more.
“Do you want me to do it again?” he purred.
A part of you wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face after what he just put you through. Another, much larger part, wanted nothing more than to submit yourself to whatever he would do to you.
“Yes,” you admitted sheepishly.
“Turn around...” he narrowed his eyes mischievously. “I want to see your face this time.”
You flipped around onto your back, under his watchful gaze. His eyes never left yours as he stroked your slit, teasing your engorged clit with his thumb, before his fingers slipped back inside you.
You found yourself mewling in anticipation before he really even started doing anything.
“So eager,” he smirked. “So wanton...”
He curled his fingers again, moving his whole hand to mercilessly claw into a sweet spot you didn’t even know existed inside you.
You tried to relax into and accept this sensation, now that you were familiar with it. A growing pressure kept building at the bottom of your stomach. It was too much. It was entirely too much. You couldn’t take more of it. You couldn’t-
“Let go, I’ve got you...” His whisper sounded so tender in sharp contrast to the depraved way he was handling your body.
You sobbed as what you hoped was cum gushed out of you, your legs quivering.
“Good girl”, Astarion laughed with glee, bending down to place a kiss on your lips, continuing to stroke you lightly, “Your body reacts so perfectly to me... Do you want more?”
“You... I want you...” you groaned, biting his lip.
“If that’s what my good girl wants,” he purred, discarding what was left of his clothes.
You groaned as his cock entered you, rocking your hips against his, trying to find that feeling again.
“So wet and needy for me...” he goaded you. “I’ve completely ruined you for anyone else, haven’t I?”
He held absolutely nothing back as he fucked you, lewd insistent sounds of skin slapping on skin combined with your shared grunts and moans disturbing what was likely otherwise a silent night.
“Anyone awake knows exactly what I’m doing to you right now,” he rasped, voice thick.
Your walls clenched at the thought, making him shudder and sigh as well.
“You like that thought, don’t you..? I know you do,” he continued. “So shameless...”
Despite yourself, you whimpered, clenching again as another orgasm started threatening to overtake you.
“That’s it... Come for me again,” he groaned. “Come for me, my love.”
‘My love’..? Just a figure of speech, you thought. You’d thrown that phrase around, jokingly, but it’s never sounded so... raw. You wanted to hear it again. You wanted to keep hearing it.
“Your what?” you gasped.
He didn’t answer. Instead he caught your lips in a deep, devouring kiss, pinning your arms over your head.
Your body gave in and you trembled under him, caught up in waves of pleasure again.
He released your arms and eased his movements once you rode out your high, but kept kissing you, hungrily, unwilling to release your lips from his.
Clearly, no further words of love would follow, you thought to yourself with a tinge of both relief and disappointment, deciding to let it go.
“You’re so good to me,” you managed, breaking your lips from his.
“Aren’t I just?” he groaned, speeding up again to chase his own release.
You kissed your way up his jaw to his ear, pausing to nibble on his earlobe.
You couldn’t see it, but a ditsy, open-mouthed smile started to play on his face.
Astarion gasped with a sharp intake of breath as you continued further, running your tongue over the inside of the shell of his ear.
“Oh sweet hells,” he sighed with pleasure, immediately grinding into your harder.
You smiled as he tilted his head, just about pressing his ear against your lips.
“Do you like that?” you whispered in his ear, running your tongue over it again, lifting your hands to run your fingers through his hair. You knew he did. You just wanted to hear him say it.
“Yes... Don’t stop...” His words sounded like a desperate plea.
You continued to gently nibble on the edge of his ear, soft moans escaping you from his movements.
“That’s it, take what’s yours” you groaned, as his hips crashed into yours harder.
His breathing and movements were becoming more and more frantic.
“Astarion...” you whispered, grazing the shell of his ear with your lips.
He let out an uncharacteristic whimper, all his usual composure slipping from him, as he bucked his hips, fucking you with quick, shallow thrusts.
“My sweet...” you breathed against his ear.
He came completely undone, spilling into you with forceful, jagged thrusts, before finally stilling. His whole body seemed to melt into yours as he stayed on top of you, trying to regain his breath.
You wrapped your legs around his hips, not wanting to let go of him yet, but he didn’t seem to be in a hurry to lift himself from you either. Instead he trailed light, tender kisses from your neck up to your lips.
You delicately traced the contours of Astarion’s face with your fingertips, running them from his cheekbone down to his jaw, as he leaned into your caress, gazing into your eyes.
Astarion parted his lips slightly, as though to say something, only to seal them again. He tilted his head to kiss your knuckles as your fingers gradually made their way back up, to run through his hair. Eventually he spoke.
“You would really choose me over the more... blatantly obvious options you have at your disposal here?” he asked quietly.
“Haven’t I made that abundantly clear already..?”
“Well of course you have – no one else is this good,” he said with a tired smirk.
“I’m not talking about the...” you blinked. “You know I’m not with you just for the sex, right..?” you frowned, looking into his eyes.
He looked away, slipping out of you and moving to lie down next to you.
“Is that so?” he said softly.
You found yourself suddenly feeling rattled. Was he simply fishing for compliments again, or had you been utterly oblivious to just how deep his insecurities ran this whole time..?
“You have a wealth of other qualities that I... enjoy and appreciate,” you said, somewhat lamely.
Astarion propped his head up on his hand and raised an eyebrow at you quizzically. There was a hint of vulnerability in his eyes despite his outward nonchalance.
Oh for fuck’s sake, you thought. I’m not ready for any serious conversations now, especially not with cum running down my thighs.
You turned away to grab something to wipe yourself down with.
“A gentleman would clean up his own mess, by the way. Not one of your strong points. But you do have some virtues that make up for it. For instance... I can leave cheese unattended around you, knowing you won’t eat it.”
Astarion went to pinch the bridge of his nose, sighing.
“You’re a treasure trove of useless information,” you continued. “But unlike some of our companions you usually keep it to yourself.” A hint of a smile played on his lips at that.
“Your hand feels nice and cold on my forehead when I have a headache.” You laid back down next to him, mirroring the way he was lying.
“You always smell nice, especially for a dead guy. You never hog the mirror.”
“What about my hair, won’t you mention that?” he smiled.
“No, fuck your hair, it makes mine look awful in comparison.”
He chuckled at that.
“I do rather adore the garnet puppy eyes though,” you murmured. “What else... You make me laugh, and, more importantly, I make you laugh – which is great for my ego,” you continued.
“As long as you understand that I’m usually laughing at you,” he countered.
“Prick... Then there’s the fact you’ve saved my life four times.”
“Seven,” he said quietly, looking into your eyes.
“Five.”
“It’s seven, dear, I counted.”
“Whatever. When it comes to battle, you’re silent but deadly,” you said. “Like a-”
Astarion’s hand covered your mouth.
“Do not finish that thought, darling.”
You grinned from behind his palm.
“I think we can be done with this conversation,” he said.
“Wait, wait, one more...” you laughed. “You’re eccentric, unpredictable, often irrational. I never know what’s going to come out of your mouth.”
You smiled as Astarion groaned dramatically, covering his face with one hand.
“Knowing I’ll get to spend another day in your mad company gives me a reason to get up in the morning,” you added, softly.
“Come here, you sweet fool,” he whispered, drawing you against him.
You hugged him tightly. It took so long for him to start initiating these embraces that wouldn’t lead to sex... You relished each one.
Tomorrow, Astarion thought to himself, unbeknown to you. I have to tell her tomorrow.
~~~~~
Follow up bonus scene
This work is part of a series - here is the master list
Next in series - Confession
AO3
Tags: @littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tallymonster @tragedybunny @spunky-89
@spacebarbarianweird @kittenintheden - hey, I heard you like elf ears
#astarion#bg3#baldur's gate 3#bg3 smut#astarion smut#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#bg3 fanfic#astarion fanfic#astarion romance#bg3 fanfiction#astarion fanfiction
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So It Goes…
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader
—-
sypnosis: the one day chiron decides to switch up the capture the flag teams, and everyone knows you’re clarisse’s weakness, In A Good Way sequel!!
i changed my theme it’s me tho promise
a/n: protective clarisse the love of my life i love you i do i think we should get married actually anyways this one is sooooooo i got to explore a more casual side of clar’s and reader’s relationship in this (for like a min) i hope you all enjoy!!
So It Goes… - Taylor Swift
warnings: soft clarisse my love, protective clarisse we KNOW how i feel abt her…., also slightly possessive clarisse i think i love you too, again clarisse gets a bit too into capture the flag, clarisse picks reader up which i KNOW is not inclusive (im literally plus-sized idk what the hell am i doing) but it was so good i couldn’t resist, she has like super strength probs so i’ll just believe (she literally could not pick me up i need to stop being delusional), swearing, violence, kissing, a bit suggestive but nothing crazy, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
Clarisse’s bed is one of your favorite places. You’ve spent so many nights here, wrapped up in her arms, feeling like no one could touch you. And you’ve spent secret days with her hands on your waist, yours in her hair, lips pressed together so tight it’s like you were each other’s oxygen.
You love Clarisse’s bed. And you know Clarisse loves her bed too, seeing as it’s a huge source of pride for her- it’s the best bunk in the cabin, and she gets a major kick over the fact that you sleep here just as much as you sleep in your own cabin.
You’re sitting down, watching Clarisse pace back and forth, her spear in her hand.
“Clarisse,” you say. She brought you here just fo freak out. Now she won’t sit down and let you help her, and she wont just freaking listen. “Clarisse, baby, what’s wrong? Can you at least put your spear down so you don’t accidentally kill somebody? If you kill me with that I’m gonna come back and kill you.”
She stops for a moment and leans her spear up against the wall. You let out a sigh.
“Now just sit down-”
She resumes her pacing.
As much as you love just being in Clarisse’s presence, as much as you know you’re her rock, the only thing that keeps her tethered in the storm she constantly fights through, you need her to let you help her.
“Clarisse!” you stand up, placing your hands on her shoulders. “You’re freaking me out, okay? What happened? I-I’m sure we can fix it, I mean…” you rub your hands up and down your arms, which you know she likes, her muscles are one of her biggest sources of pride.
She sits down, letting you stand in between her legs, her hands moving to hold your hips.
“Sorry,” she mumbles. She’s not very good at handling her emotions, but she’s getting better, and at least she’s able to recognize and apologize when her emotions are hurting other people. Well, you, at least. She breathes out. “Chiron decided to switch the teams.”
And now she had to work with the Athena cabin? The Gods know after the Ares and Athena cabins have captained opposing teams for years, Chiron pretends there’s not, but everyone knows there’s a deep rivalry. More than just friendly competition.
“The Demeter cabin will be on the red team.”
“Okay,” you say, squeezing her shoulders. You aren’t really close with anyone from the Demeter cabin, it doesn’t really bother you much.
“And… the Aphrodite cabin will be on the blue team.”
“Oh.”
You’ve never not been on Clarisse’s team for capture the flag. Not only does the entire red team’s tactic rest on you using your charmspeak to protect the flag, but what the hell are you supposed to do fighting against Clarisse?
She wraps her arms around your waist, flopping back onto her bed and bringing you down on top of her.
“I know it’s all Annabeth and Luke behind this. I’m sure that little smartass has made up some sick plan to make me go insane.”
You scoff, planting your hands behind her head on the bed. “You’re the one who can actually fight. I’m, like, so bad it’s not even funny, Clar.”
“You beat me all the time,” she frowns.
And it’s true, you spar with her at least 3 or 4 times a week, and you win most of the those times. But Clarisse moves slower, she doesn’t hit as hard, she anticipates your next move and doesn’t block it so you can land a hit.
“We both know you let me win.”
“I like seeing you smile,” she says, her own matching smile on her face.
“Okay, you big romantic.” You let your hands slip, laying your head against her chest and your arms flat around her head. “It’s not that big of a deal, Clar. I’m sure it’ll be fine, then Chiron’ll probably switch them back.”
“Annabeth convinced him to do it. She has some sort of plan, Y/N, she does.”
“You’ve mentioned,” you hum. “Stop stressing. Nothing we can do about it.”
“Fine,” she hisses.
She wraps her arms around your waist and throws you to the side so you yelp, now she’s climbing on top of you, laying her head on your chest.
“It’s going to be the worst game of capture the flag in history, you know. I hope you’re happy, I don’t even know what I’m gonna do without you. I mean, I guess I could move that group in the west side to just south of the flag, so that’ll be a bit more for them to get through. Oh, I’ll stick that one good archer on the ground- no, no that wouldn’t work, I need him in the trees. But I’ll move his position-”
—-
You walk to the woods together. When it’s time to split up, Clarisse grabs you by your armor and points her finger into your chest.
“Clar, what the hell are you doing-”
“Don’t do anything I would do.”
“Okay, Clarisse,” you smile, blinking once to avoid rolling your eyes at her ridiculousness.
She smirks, her arm squeezing your waist. She pecks you on the lips before pulling away completely.
“Done making out?” Jackie asks, her and Tyla suddenly appearing next to you.
“It was one kiss, Jacks. Are you sure we have the same Mom?”
“No, honestly.”
You fall into step with the two of them, laughing as you make your way through the woods and to the edge of the river.
Chiron makes his usual speech, the conch sounds, and everyone starts moving around.
Annabeth finds the three of you soon after. Tyla and Jackie fall away, following your other siblings. Annabeth always has this calculating look on her face, like she knows something you don’t, a true child of Athena. You have to admit, she really is one of the smartest people you know.
“Annabeth,” you smile. “I guess you want me by the flag?”
“No, I debated that, but I decided against it.”
She smirks and looks at you before spinning around, pointing to Luke and his team members who are always in charge of getting the flag.
“You’ll be with Luke.”
You frown. “You do realize I have absolutely no skill in battle, right, Annabeth?”
“Yeah, but skill doesn’t matter when you have power. Power over someone.”
“Oh, okay. Who do you want me to charmspeak-”
“Charmspeak whoever you come across, but that’s not what I’m talking about. You have power over Clarisse. I know she’s defending the flag today, right?”
She looks at you sharply.
You smile. “Oh, I really don’t know. But if you say so, sure.”
She starts walking, you follow her.
“Clarisse doesn’t talk strategy to you? I mean, I talk Luke’s ear off.”
“Oh, no, she does, I just don’t really retain any of it.”
She huffs a small sound of laughter.
“I know she’ll be there,” she affirms.
“If you say so!” you say, all sing song, Luke smiling as he meets your eyes.
“Y/N! How’s it feel to finally be on the winning team?”
“I love being on the red team, thanks for asking.”
“Ha. You’re so funny, are you sure you’re not a child of Apollo?”
“Too beautiful,” you glide your hands down your face. “I get it from my godly mother.”
“Luke, do you know what you’re doing?” Annabeth asks.
“Yes ma’am.”
She smiles and walks away, talking to more people while you can faintly hear Clarisse shouting at people. With the change in tactic, you know she’s been slightly stressed, but she won’t allow herself to feel anything other than confidence, outwardly.
She still walks tall. She still grips her spear in her hand a little to tight. She’s a bit too greedy with the things that are hers, she grabs on a bit too tight, but you know it’s just because she’s scared. You like it.
If this were a regular game, you would probably be walking next to Clarisse right now, or kissing her goodbye while you follow Matty and everyone else to go protect the flag.
When you and Clarisse first started dating, she was slow to be so affectionate, but the more of her walls you started breaking down the more you found a complicated teenage girl who felt unloved, and had a lot of love to give too.
The more confident she became in your private relationship, the more she wanted everyone to know. It was her fatal flaw, pride, hubris. She wanted everyone to know she was yours and your were hers. She wanted everyone to be jealous.
“I’m so glad we don’t have to wear those horrible earplugs today. They always make me worried. Someone could be shouting a few feet away and none of us would hear.”
“Stop gloating, Luke.”
“I’m just expressing my gratitude, Y/N, is that not allowed?”
“I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”
“Oh, oh, I know. You’re sad, aren’t you?”
“Sad?” you snort.
“Yeah, sad. Sad you aren’t with Clarisse. You’re devastated, destroyed, wrecked.”
You put your hand on your sword. “Who are you… and what have you done with Luke Castellan? Luke doesn’t know that many words…”
He hits your shoulder. “Shut up, Y/N.”
—-
You’re walking through the woods.
Not sneaking around in stealth, not running, but walking.
You’ve come across a few of your former team members, but one of the blue team just tackles them and you tell them to turn around and count to 5,000.
For some reason, it’s worse than sitting by the rock, waiting for someone to make a play for the flag. At least at the rock you’re surrounded by all these people you know. You and Matty are usually talking, Marjorie sometimes joins, and you all have fun bullying Corey for that one time he didn’t see the blue team coming.
Luke’s voice drops to a whisper.
“Here’s your job. You can either, one, go make out with Clarisse in a corner, which shouldn’t be too hard-”
“Luke,” you hit his shoulder. He hisses.
“I’m joking, joking. Just keep her distracted, fight her, maybe pull your shirt down a bit? Oh, or I can just cut it so it’s a bit more revealing-”
“Luke, shut up or else I will make you.”
“It’s not a bad idea-”
“Luke!”
“Sh, sh,” he whispers. “Don’t be so loud, we’re almost to the flag. We’re going for stealth, okay?”
“Oh, really, I didn’t notice,” you deadpan. He looks around.
“Blue team, stealth mode, alright?”
Everyone nods. You roll your eyes. You miss the red team.
—-
After Luke gives you the ok, meaning the blue team has successfully surrounded the red team and the clearing, you take a step forward.
Annabeth was right. Clarisse is there.
It’s fitting. If you can’t be there, she would.
You look up at Corey, but he hasn’t noticed any of you yet. You frown, thinking about how he’s probably going to get beat up.
“Clarisse!” you shout. You watch everyone jump into defensive positions. She can’t see you yet, but she stares in the direction of your voice, her eyes squinting, smiling softly.
“Luke?” she shouts. “That you?”
You frown.
“What the hell?” you say, stepping forward. “You don’t recognize my voice? I thought that was really smart. Like, a cool way to reveal myself, I don’t know.”
You come into the clearing, sword by your side.
Clarisse’s smile drops.
“I-I- no, baby, I just wasn’t expecting Annabeth to send you here-”
“Do I really sound like Luke?”
“No,” she says, immediately. “You sound like an angel.
Matty laughs. Clarisse stabs his foot with the end of her spear. She smiles at you.
“Is Luke here though?” Marjorie asks, subtly trying to look through the trees.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, you do,” Matty snorts.
“You’re going to tell me though right, baby?” Clar smiles, stepping closer until she’s right in front of you.
“Obviously not, you didn’t recognize me. I’m, like, really hurt by that Clarisse-”
“Gods, Clarisse,” Matty shouts at the sky, laughing. You didn’t recognize her, and now we’re all fucked!”
“Shut the fuck up, Matty,” she says over her shoulder. She looks at you, smiling again, her hand reaching out to touch your face. “I’ll let you do that thing you’ve always wanted to do.”
You smile, your voice dropping to a whisper. “You’ll let me give you a makeover? Really?”
“Yes.” Her teeth grit, but she keeps smiling, her thumb rubbing your cheek.
“Hm, I don’t know,” you mutter, your eyes fixing on her spear when you suddenly reach forward, grabbing it from her hands and turning to run away.
The blue team emerges from the woods with war cries, swords start clashing, and it all happens so fast.
The plan was for you to grab her spear, make her chase you around the woods, and hopefully the blue team would be able to overpower the red team without her.
Instead, Clarisse kicks out her foot, tripping you. Then, she catches you and the spear in what you swear has to be a milisecond.
“Clarisse!” you shout, genuinely offended. She beat you so easily. It wasn’t even a fight. You didn’t even get the chance to run.
“Sorry, baby, it’s capture the flag!”
You about to start kicking like a wild animal when she suddenly lets you go. Luke is there, fighting her while you pick your sword up from the ground that fell in the commotion.
One of your team members dropped their helmet and you pick that up too.
You’re not that bad of a fighter, Clarisse just knows everything about you, you tell yourself. But your pride is slightly wounded and you want to prove to her, yourself, and everyone that you’re not just a weak Aphrodite kid or some poor thing that hangs off Clar’s arm.
You can hold your own.
You stick the helmet on and step into the fight. Someone groans and a sword comes wishing through the air, but you block it.
They swing again.
You block it.
You picked up things from Clarisse, and, besides, you weren’t just sparring for fun. She actually teaches you, better than the actual sword practice teacher if your biased opinion is to be trusted.
But you probably just feel that way because she rewards you with kisses.
It seems like you’re actually winning for a second, about to disarm him, when he seems to get fed up with fighting you and suddenly arcs hard over your head, making you lose your footing and letting him kick you.
You land on your back, groaning and trying to catch your breath.
“That was such a bitchy move,” you mumble. He leans over you, about to kick the sword out of your hand-
“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Samuel.”
She holds her spear right under his throat, and he finally seems to look at your face instead of just your blue helmet.
“Shit. Sorry. Sorry, Clarisse, I’m sorry.”
She looks like she’s about to kill him but she just pushes him away.
“I was winning,” you groan. “But then he kicked me.”
She kicks him as he walks away.
You expect her to tug you up and start lecturing you but instead she leans down and throws you over her shoulder.
“Wha- Clarisse!”
“That’s enough for you today,” she says, patting the back of your thigh.
“Clarisse, I swear to Hades, let me down!”
“One second,” she mumbles.
When she places you down on the ground again, you’re leaning against a tree. She grabs your hand, frowning at something.
It’s the smallest cut, barely there, but Clarisse of course acts like it’s the end of the world.
“Does it hurt?”
Your eyes fix on Luke behind her, stalking slowly towards her turned back.
“No, Clar, it’s fine. Now I-”
“I think you should go the nurse.”
Your mouth drops open. “Clarisse, it’s a paper cut!”
“And if it gets infected? Go away, Luke, I can hear you.”
He locks eyes with you but ultimately turns around with a very scared and annoyed look on his face.
“Now do you see why I was all messed up? I knew this was going to happen. You were gonna get hurt, and it was going to be my fault.”
You roll your eyes. “It’s not your fault, Clarisse-”
“But isn’t it? You would have been at the flag if Annabeth hadn’t known how much you mean to me. Instead, you were here. Instead, you were rushing off to go fight someone-”
“I’m not a damsel in distress, Clar!”
She presses her lips together.
“I can fight too. Not as good as you, but I can. I-I don’t want to be weak, I don’t want to rely on you for everything, it’s- it’s embarrassing.”
You didn’t even know you were feeling this way until you felt it. But it’s always been there, you guess. You always watch Clarisse spar and know she could never do anything like that with you. And you thought you were fine with it, and you are fine with having things that you like and things that she likes- but you don’t want to be so useless anymore.
She’s silent for a second.
“I- I get that. I do. But I just don’t know how to tell you I… I love you without showing it. I’m not good at saying it, you know that.”
“Clarisse,” you frown.
She puts her hands on your face.
“You are… the most precious thing in the world to me, Y/N. I really hope you know that.”
You wrap your arms around her neck, you can feel her heart thump from the fight.
“I know that, Clarisse. Of course I know that. You show me every day, I just- I just want to feel like my own person.”
She grips you tighter. “If it’ll make you happy, I’ll teach you to fight. But you have to do it how I say, and you can’t go off and do this-”
You pull back so you can make sure this is real.
“Really?” you smile.
“You have to listen to me, Y/N, and do it slowly, okay-”
“Yes, yes, yes, okay, yes,” you breathe, planting your hands on your face before kissing her. It’s slow, it’s sweet, it’s exactly what you think of when you think of her. You think of the side that’s yours, the side that only you can see.
You break it, leaning down to pick up her spear.
The red team is losing the fight behind you.
“Ok, go win capture the flag. And I’ll stay here. My hand does kinda hurt,” you mumble.
She smiles and kisses your cheek. “Not just a paper cut, huh?”
“Can I still give you a makeover?” you ask as she turns away.
“Maybe!”
—-
y/n: what why did you not recognize me ☹️☹️
clarisse, genuinely terrified: i have no idea what the hell you are talking about please please please don’t take away kissing privileges please please please
—-
taglist:
@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008
(pls ignore it’s for the acc aesthetics thank you!!)
#clarisse la rue#clarisse la rue x reader#clarisse la rue x y/n#clarisse la rue x you#pjo tv show#pjo x reader
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“what? hello?” steve mumbled sleepily into the phone.
“i’m going insane,” eddie nearly shouts.
steve sits up in his bed and scrubs his hand over his face. “woah woah, eds, what’s goin on?”
a high pitched wail is heard in the background and eddie is immediately cooing and shushing. steve presses the phone tighter to his ear.
“eds. eds, can you hear me?”
“i’m going insane i’m going insane i’m going insane,” eddie breathes. “she won’t stop crying steve she’s been crying for two hours—fuck, three hours. i don’t know what to do. i don’t know what to do steve.”
“who’s crying?” steve asks.
“my cousin. or my niece, maybe? i don’t know how it works. my cousin’s baby is here and she won’t stop crying.”
more crying and wailing is heard. steve has to hold the phone away from his ear when eddie gets closer to her. he can hear eddie pleading with her, trying to comfort her, to no avail.
“i need help,” eddie says. “i need help, please.”
“uh, okay. okay,” steve replies as he rolls out of bed and stumbles around his room in the dark to find some pants and shoes. “i can be there in ten.”
“make it five,” eddie nearly whines, anxiety pouring through the receiver.
“got it.”
steve’s tires screech into eddie’s driveway. his trailer is the only one with the lights still on and he could hear the baby crying from outside. he’s surprised no one has called to complain to the police station. though he’s sure callahan or hopper would simply hang up.
steve barrels up the steps and opens the door to utter chaos. toys and books scatter the ground, there are blankets and bottles strewn over surfaces (some definitely knocked over and spilling onto the floor), and baby clothes and diapers in the leftover spaces. and of course, a screaming infant.
eddie pops out of his room with said infant trashing in his arms. eddie has tears streaming down his fact too and steve’s heart just cracks.
“help me,” eddie mouths.
“uh, okay, okay,” steve is wracking his brain for any tips he learned in home economics about taking care of a baby. “what have you tried? i presume she’s in a clean diaper and…” god it was hard to think with the noise screeching in his ears. “fed her?” steve asks louder.
“yes fuck, i keep changing her and trying to feed her. i read her stories and rocked her and tried to put her in her crib. she’s so upset i don’t know why,” eddie’s voice cracks on the last word and suddenly, steve’s across the room. ready to comfort him.
“give her here,” steve says.
eddie’s eyes are panicky and wide but eventually, he hands steve the child. she continues to cry and thrash in steve’s arms so it takes a second for him to hold her properly.
“what’s her name?” steve asks.
“cheyenne” eddie responds, arms wrapped around himself like a hug. his whole body is bouncing and steve feels the urge to reach out and bring him in too but the more pressing matter is currently occupying those arms.
“hi cheyenne,” steve says gently. “seems like you’re mighty upset.”
she yanks at steve’s shirt with her little baby fists, definitely grabbing some chest hair underneath and ripping it. steve winces but recovers quickly.
“would your neighbors kill me if i take her outside?”
“probably,” eddie mutters.
“i’m going to anyway.”
steve heads for the front door and eddie goes to follow him but steve holds out a patient hand. “stay here, take a breath,” steve instructs.
eddie’s eyes well up with more tears. “but what if something—“
“then we’ll do something. right now, being around her isn’t good for you. let me take a crack at this, alright?”
eddie nods solemnly and backs away so steve can open the door.
cheyenne’s cries echo out into the night sky as steve starts to pace around the porch. steve starts to feel a little scared being alone with her but he’s more scared of what the stress has done to eddie.
so he decides to do it scared.
the baby starts to have this hiccuping breaths that pull steve out of his thought spiral. steve shushes her and props her up so her head is on his shoulder. he rubs her back with his hand, which takes up her entire back, and tries to stay calm when her cries are right next to his ear.
“you like music? 'course you do, everyone does.i don’t know how many lullabies eddie knows. his taste is a little more intense,” steve says conversationally as he continues to pace. “i don’t even think i know any lullabies. um…”
cheyenne cries with new fervor right into his neck and steve just panic sings the first song that comes to mind, “shake it up is all we know. using bodies up as we go. i’m waking up a fantasy. the shades are all the colors we used to see.”
cheyenne’s cries go down a peg, still loud but less wailing and more whimpering. steve’s heart is racing as he slowly continues the song.
“broken ice still melts in the sun. and ties that are broken can be one again. we’re soul alone and soul really matters to me.”
cheyenne keeps crying but it's getting softer by the second. steve rearranges her so she's cradled in his arms. he's blown away by how small she is. how helpless. everything must be so scary for her.
“i'm out of touch,” steve sings softly. “you're out of time. but i'm out of my head when you're not around. oh, oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh.“
cheyenne's eyes open up and they're this big beautiful brown, just like eddie's. his breath is taken away as he keeps singing weakly. he doesn't even realize that she stops crying entirely and is just blinking at him, dazed.
it takes eddie slowly opening the front door for him to recognize the silence. he sits on the couch and bounces her gently in his arms, still humming and singing the occasional "oh's". eddie very slowly and quietly sits beside him.
steve looks up at eddie who is staring at him in awe. the same beautiful brown eyes are puffy and swollen, just like cheyenne's.
“c'mon eds, sing it with me,” steve jokes quietly.
eddie shakes his head. “i can't believe she's a hall and oates fan.”
“everyone is,” steve says simply and sings, “i'm out of touch.” he gestures to eddie to continue.
“i'm out of time,” eddie sings, looking incredibly pained to do so.
“but i'm out of my head,” steve leans his ear to the side.
“when you're not around,” eddie says flat, voice raspy from his exhaustion. it makes steve's stomach flip so he returns his attention to the near asleep girl in his arms.
they keep humming until she's fully asleep. steve leans back into the couch with a long exhale, his shoulders rubbing up against eddie's.
“you're magical,” eddie whispers.
“please,” steve scoffs.
“i'm serious,” eddie replies. steve turns his head to face him and nearly chokes from how close their faces are.
”i don't know how you do it,“ eddie mumbles.
”do what?“
”make everyone around you so calm. i feel like all i can do is make everyone stressed out,” eddie laughs weakly.
steve shakes his head. ”not true. just ask buckley, i stress her out on a daily basis.“
eddie chuckles and sniffles. steve sees his lips stretch over his teeth in a smile.
”thank you for coming over. i didn't know who else to call.“
”how did you end up with your baby cousin anyway?“ steve asks.
eddie sighs, tilting his head back into the cushion. if he leaned his head closer, he'd be on steve's shoulder. steve wishes he would.
”her mom is taking a much needed vacation and i promised wayne that he didn't need to take time off work to take care of her. that was a huge mistake.“
”you did your best,“ steve argues quietly.
”maybe but it wasn't enough.“
”hey, c'mon. don't beat yourself up. you did what you could and found help when you couldn't. it's not your fault this is her only form of communication.“
eddie smiles again and yawns. ”you wouldn't happen to have this album on cassette would you?“
steve beams at him. ”in my car, actually.“
”i'm getting it.“
they put cheyenne to bed with the big bam boom album playing softly on eddie's stereo. they stare at her peaceful form snoozing away and seem to forget how she looked not even a half hour ago.
”you should get some sleep,” steve whispers, nudging eddie with his shoulder.
“you're right, you're right,” eddie sighs. he gestures that he's gonna walk steve to the door. steve grabs his keys and turns before opening the door.
“thank you again,” eddie whispers.
“anytime. hall and oates always heals,” steve smiles.
eddie rolls his eyes fondly and shoves steve's shoulder. only, his hand doesn't move away. it splays out over steve's beating heart which is rapidly picking up speed. eddie's eyes slowly drift up to catch steve's.
“i was listening to that song yesterday,” steve whispers. “over and over and over again.”
“you must really like it,“ eddie says, a little confused.
”no. i mean, i do but…“ steve whispers. ”i was listening to it because... i start to go a little insane when i'm not around you.“
eddie's brows furrow. ”w-what do you mean?“
”can't keep you out of here,“ steve explains, tapping his temple. ”i don't know what to do. this is where i need help, eds.”
eddie's lips part in a silent gasp. he takes a step closer and rubs his thumb over steve's shirt. steve's hand comes up and covers his.
“i can help,” eddie whispers, tilting his head up so their noses brush.
that's how steve and eddie share their first kiss in eddie's living room, sleep deprived and unhurried. just four lips gently sliding over one another.
when they pull away with tired smiles, eddie murmurs, “in case she wakes up, you should probably sleep over.”
(inspired by @gothbat99 's wonderful steve harrington playlist)
#emily writes#idk why i hc steve being great with babies but i just DO#steddie#steddie ficlet#steddie fics#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things ficlet
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❛CUPID AND HIS ANGEL❜ ( l. know )
💬nia's notes: i seen the shoot and got hella inspired.
p. cupid!leeknow x angel!reader w. 2.5k+
warnings? yandere themes, corruption kink, talks of blood, oral (m. receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, breeding kink, poor knowledge of greek mythology ( like zesus should strike me down), leeknow is referred to as both lk and cupid.
— 𖦹 ( youre lee knows precious angel, and he'll be damned if he shoots his arrow into your hear for anyone but himself ) !
“she is a beauty, isn’t she?” lee know stared at the photo in front of him, ready to snap his bow and arrows in half. “she isn’t a goddess by any means, just a mere angel, but she’s special.” he knew who you were, he’d been watching you since you arrived here in olympus, he already claimed you as his. “you want me to use my arrows on a useless angel?”
he didn’t mean to be so harsh, but if this male angel found out he also had an eye out on you, he’d surely try and start a war over it – and lee know didn’t bother for another war, nor did he wish bloodshed, but he’d spill the angels blood all over olympus if it meant you’d be his alone – plus the angel would never win against lee know, he was a god of course, but that wouldn’t stop him, male angels are very prideful. “please, i’ll pay you a generous amount.” lee know smiled, tapping the table. “of course.” the angel put the sack of gold on the table, lee know scooped up the bag, putting it in his pocket. “good day to you.” he turned to walk away. “so you’ll do it?” he turned back facing the angel. “consider it already done, i’ll inform you when it will take place.” he smirked walking out of the establishment.
of course he wasn’t gonna do it, no way was he gonna let you be taken from him by some lowly angel, no you deserved more than that – you deserved to be treated like the goddess you really were, spoiled with many jewels and dresses, to eat the best foods… you deserved to be with him, he could give you all that and more.
of course, he already knew where you hung out, in the fields with the other angels, he’d often watch you picking flowers, your wings fluttering behind you, perfect for him. “hi my precious little angel.”
you turned around to face the voice, with a smile, it was your friend leeknow, you smiled running over to him. “hi cupid.” you teased, he smiled, patting your head. “i told you to call me leeknow.” you chuckled. “i know, but i like teasing you.” you were so cute, so unaware of the explicit things he thought about doing to you. “are you here to stay or are you gonna go make people fall in love today.” he shook his head, he only had one person he was gonna make fall in love today – and she was standing right in front of him. “no i’m just here to watch you today, make sure you’re being the good angel i know you are.” he took a flower from your pile. “(y/n), come!” your friend called for you. “go little angel, i’ll be here when you’re done.”
he sat down watching you run over to your friend who wanted to show you something in the grass, probably a animal or something – he didn’t mind, he had business to attend to. pulling out his trusty bow, along with a single love arrow, he waited for yours and your friend to be far enough so you’d be to look at him first, but you won’t see him shoot you, before aiming the arrow, making sure to wait for the exact moment – lord knows that if he shot your friend by accident he’d sure end up killing them, he didn’t want anyone else but you, and was willing to do anything, and he couldn’t have that if he has a stupid little angel floating around here actually thinking he’d love them, no all his love was for you.
once you were in the right place, he wasted no time, letting the arrow go, shoot right in the heart, right where it needed to be. he saw you stumble, meaning the arrow did hit you – making direct eye contact with him. he smiled, and just as he planned, you dropped the flowers, waving goodbye to your friend, running over to him. “you’re back my little angel.” you smiled, he seen the look in your eyes. “pretty little angel.” he held the flower he took from you, placing it behind your ear. “leeknow, i feel- shh, i know angel, let’s get you back to my castle okay?”
lee know was ecstatic, the magic from the arrow seemed to hit faster than anyone he ever shot before, you were all over him on the ride back, to the point he had to hold your wrist down to keep you from unbuckling his pants, “angel stop it.” he sighed as you pressed warm kisses to his neck. you pouted, whining. “but why, i just want to show you that i love you so much.” he smiled, this is exactly what you wanted. “yeah? you love me?” you nodded. “yup, so so much.” he chuckled. “and i love you too angel, but you have no clue what you’re doing, just wait a little while longer, and i’ll show you exactly how you can show me how much you love me.”
as soon as you touched the inside of your castle he was taking you to his chambers, not even caring to explain to the maids, close his door, leaving you both alone. you rushed to kiss him, he finally allowed you to, it was messy, due to your lack of knowledge of how to kiss someone or do anything in a sexual nature at in general. he pulled away grabbing both your cheeks. “calm down my little angel, you don’t even know what you’re doing.” he chuckled. “let me guide you, okay? i’ll give you anything you want, just submit to me.”
Your body finally calm down some, he smiled. “good girl, now undress for me.” you untied the string of your dress, that was tied around your neck, letting it fall, uncovering your boobs, the cold air hitting your nipples. “perfect, my perfect little angel.” he brought his hands up to your nipples, pinching them, you whimpered at the sensation. “sensitive baby.”
he sat down in the chair, patting his lap. “come here pretty.” you moved to where here was, standing in between his legs. “be my sweet little angel and get on your knees for me.” you obeyed, sinking down on your knees, looking up at him. “good little angel, listen so well for me.” he caressed your face, the lovesick look in your eyes making him smile. “gonna do whatever i ask you, be a good angel for me.” you nodded. “anything.”
he let your face go, sitting back to unbuckle his slacks, pulling them down along with his underwear, his cock slapping again his abdomen, his hissed at the cold air. “are you hurt?” your eyes filled with worry, he let out a dry laugh. “no angel, i’m fine.” he groaned, stroking his cock in front of your face. “you want to show me how much you love?, prove to cupid how much you love him?” you nodded. “i do.”
he grabbed the base of his cock, bringing it to your pink glossy lips. “open for me angel.” you slowly parted your lips, he slid his cock into your mouth, moaning as he guided you down his length. “there we go angel, keep going, don’t use your teeth.” you took as much as you could, until his tip hit the back of your throat. “pretty girl, my cock is too big for your little mouth.”
you shook your head, desperate to please him, you tried to take him further down, gagging around his length. “you really want to please me little angel, you took me all the way.” he threw his head back as you worked your mouth up and down, eventually getting the hang of it. “sh-shit you’re a natural angel.” the god was losing his mind, the way your mouth worked on his cock, he had to grip the chair to keep from grabbing your head, fucking up into your mouth – not wanting to frighten you during your first time, plus you both had all the time in the world, both of you being immortal, he had all the time in the world to fuck your face, teach you and corrupt you even more than he was about to.
“fuck angel, angel i’m about to cum.” he groaned. “wanna cum in your mouth okay? gonna fill your mouth with my cum.” you hummed, he grabbed the back of your head, pushing it down until your nose poked his pubic bone. “breath through your nose angel.” he groaned out, stilling your head. “ngh, fuck angel, i’m cumming!” his cock twitched before you felt his warm cum hit the back of your throat. “mhm shit, take all my cum love.” he cursed, his cum filling your mouth.
he finally released your head; you coughed, spit and cum wetting your lips as you caught your breath. “did i do well?” your voice was scratchy due to his previous assault, he smiled at your need to please him – even though he was the cause of it. “yeah angel, you did good.” he said grabbing your cheek, wiping the cum from your lips. “now it’s time for me to show you how much i love you now.”
he helped you up, guiding you to the bed. “lay down angel.” you complied, laying down, your wings spread behind you, your skin glowing, you were truly a beauty. “such a pretty creature.” he lifted the skirt of your dress up on your waist, your white panties on display. “so fucking pretty angel.” he kissed your navel. “spread your legs for me angel.”
he sat on his knees between your legs, the wet spot in the middle of your panties, proving your arousal. “look at the mess you made angel, you love me that much?” he rubbed you through your panties. “leeknow.” you whimpered, your eyes widened at the noise that so easily came out of your mouth. “it’s normal sweet angel, it’s just you showing how much you love me.” he moved your panties to the side, your cunt soaked with your juices. “look so sweet angel, gonna let have a taste later.” it didn’t sound like a question, and lee know didn’t mean it as either, he would spend the rest of eternity in between your legs, but he was equally as desperate to fuck you, his cock swelled just at the thought. he pushed a finger into your hole, you whimpered out his name in reaction. “that feels nice angel?” you nodded. “i’ll let it slide this once angel, but when i speak to you, you use your words, okay?” he pressed a second finger at your hole. “you want another?”
“pl-please.” you moaned as he added the second finger, using his thumb to rub your clit. “sweet angel your little cunt is squeezing my fingers like crazy.” he said. “you’re barely taking them, how can you take me cock if you can’t even take my fingers.” you whined. “i-i can, i promise.”he smiled, speeding up his movements, curling his fingers. “you gotta cum on my fingers first then, gotta open you up to take my cock.”
you felt something, your thighs began to tremble, your legs trying to close around leeknows wrist, but he held them open. “s-something- shh let it out angel, this is a good thing, that means you’re about to cum, be a good angel and cum all over my fingers.” on his word, you felt yourself release, cumming on his hand. “le-leeknow.” your body convulsed as he worked you through your orgasm, pulling his fingers out, bringing them to his lips. “oh fuck angel, you taste so good.” he groaned, tapping on your sticky clit.
“you ready for cock angel?” he rubbed his length on your folds, your juices coating his cock. “y-yes.” your whimpers turned into a loud moan as he slowly entered you, the tip of his cock alone stretching your cunt. “leeknow.” he sighed, his cock sinking into your cunt, your walls gripping him like vice. “fu-fuck angel, your cunt is squeezing me like crazy.” he grunted. “relax your pretty cunt for me, let me in.” he slowly moved his hips, taking his cock out, pushing back in.
you were a mess as he slowly moved inside you, the uncomfortable feeling slowly subsiding, turning into pure pleasure. “m-more.” that’s all he needed to speed up his movements, your moans bouncing off the walls of his chambers as he fucked you. “that’s it angel, take all of my cock.” his hand toyed with your nipples, pinching them.
you felt like you were floating, the tip of his cock slamming into your cervix. “are you going dumb on my cock already angel?” he chuckled. “it’s okay love, i’ll be right here, your love will be here when you come back.” he lifted your hips fucking deeper into you.
“fu-fuck angel, gonna make you my wife.” he grunted. “give you everything you deserve.” he promised. “no one will ever be able to harm you.” you listened to his confession, unable to speak. “sh-shit you’re clenching so tight around me, gonna cum aren’t you, tell me you love me first, i want to hear you say it.” he grabbed your chin. “i-i love you, i love you so much.” you mustered out. “lee-leeknow i’m gonna cum!” you screamed.
“cum for me angel, cum for me so i can fill your little cunt with my cum.” his words alone made you yell out his name as you came, your thighs shaking. “fuck angel, you came so fast -shit- you want my cum that bad, want to have my children, give me a heir?” you nodded, wrapping your legs around his waist. “p-please.” his hips began to falter, his thrust becoming more messy. “fu-fuck angel, i’m gonna cum, gonna fill your pretty cunt up -ngh- fuckfuckfuck.” he cursed, his cum filling your cunt up. “take my cum, my little angel.”
your body laid there limp, your eyes fluttering close. “little angel are you sleepy, my cock made you that tired?” he chuckled as you nodded. “go ahead and sleep, i’ll clean your sweet body up.” that’s all you heard before you drifted off to sleep.
“you cannot enter cupids chambers right now he is-.” his door swung open, lee knows eyes opened, the angry angel making his way in. “you bastard! you’re a thief and a crook.” he yelled at the god, you can tell he was angry, because not even a prideful angel would dare do what he was doing. “you stole my gold and my angel.”
your eyes opened due to the commotion. “leeknow?” leeknows eyes darken upon hearing your voice. “you woke up my little angel with all your yapping.” he said. “your angel? she’s supposed to be mine!” the angel yelled. “enough of this.” leeknow belted. “why would i need your gold? you’re a lowlife.”he scoffed, the angel stood there fuming. “now get the fuck out before i have you killed, you’re scaring my wife.” with a snap of his fingers, two guards came in dragging the male out. “who was that?”
he turned to you, starring up at him. “just a upset customer, don’t worry about you’ll never see him again.” he dipped under the blanket, kissing your thighs. “wh-what are you doing?” you stuttered.
“gonna eat my little angels pretty pussy.”
©LUVYENI
#kpop x reader#kpop smut#stray kids smut#skz hard hours#stray kids hard hours#stray kids hard thoughts#skz hard thoughts#stray kids x reader#skz smut#stray kids imagines#stray kids fic#skz x reader#lee minho smut#lee know hard hours#lee know smut#lee know imagines#lee know hard thoughts#lee know x reader#lee know fanfic#lee know scenarios
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Insufferable: 12 Days of Smut #2
Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot
Summary: You and Bucky get separated from Sam and Sharon during a mission in Madripoor and are stranded in a motel room until you can get in touch with them again. How do two sworn enemies pass the time?
Warnings: profanity, teasing, fingering, possessive!Bucky, oral sex (male receiving), slight face fucking, female masturbation, unprotected sex, praise, some use of y/n, hate sex, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.
Word Count: 5.7k
A/N: I feel like this one is better than yesterday's but idk. @littlemiss-yeehaw helped me make some executive dialogue decisions and helped keep Bucky as the hot little shit that we all know him to be.
Power Broker is watching. You’ve read the spray-painted words on the wall a million times now as you stand in the dark alleyway, telling yourself over and over again that picking a fight with Bucky isn’t going to make your current situation any better. Even if it is his fault that you’re miles from where you should be, being chased by god knows how many bounty hunters, and so far from Sharon and Sam that your comms aren’t even working at this point. Fuck it, you’ll pick a fight.
“Is this how you wanted to spend Christmas Eve?” You spit out the question with as much malice as you can, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning back against the brick wall of some shuttered, probably illegal business. Bucky’s face contorts in annoyance as he lifts his right hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. He’s getting so tired of you tonight. First, you stupidly thought it would be fine for you and Sharon to partner up and head out into Madripoor on your own. Sam and Bucky were quick to snuff out that idea, even though Sharon was fully on board with you. Nobody gives a shit if Sharon used to be the power broker here or if you have more kills under your belt than most other trained assassins on record. Madripoor is lawless, crawling with criminals who will never pay for their sins, and it’s no place for two attractive women to be running around alone. Even if you can both take care of yourselves, why invite conflict by walking around town without either Sam or Bucky as a deterrent? The fact that you didn’t want to walk around with the damn Winter Soldier right behind you was almost insulting. Did you question Bucky’s reputation? Do you not understand how notorious he is in a place like this?
“With you? No.” Bucky answers with just as much malice as you threw at him.
“Then you should’ve listened to me and let me and Sharon take the lead.” You scoff. Bucky shoots you an indignant look, but you stare right back at him with your own expression of disdain.
“I don’t take orders from you.”
“That’s exactly why we’re in the situation we’re in now.” You mumble the words out just loud enough that he can hear them. He stands a few feet away from you and you watch him as his pulls his phone from a pocket of his tactical pants and begins typing away on it. You imagine he’s texting Sam a message that says something like if you don’t find us in the next two minutes I’m going to kill this girl. What he’s actually doing is searching up the nearest place that rents rooms to lowlifes without asking any questions. He wants the two of you off the street as fast as possible so he can try to get in contact with Torres and find out how to get your comms working again. Until comms are working, you’re basically doing everything blind, and that won’t work for Bucky. Not when he has to worry about three other lives besides his own.
The cloud of anger swirling around you isn’t quite thick enough to stop you from appreciating the way Bucky looks tonight. He’s dressed in his usual full tactical gear that he wears for most missions, with one unusual change: his vibranium arm is on full display. He picked a top that is conveniently missing the entire left sleeve. You understand why he chose it, knowing how his name and even his arm precedes him. One look at him tonight, at the colorful lights of Madripoor nightlife reflecting off of his dark metal arm, keeps even the most aggressive men here at bay. No one would dare mess with the Winter Soldier, especially not when he’s radiating as much anger as he is right now. Well, no one besides you.
“I’m not going to keep waiting around here for you to come up with a new plan.” You announce, pushing away from the brick wall and tossing your hair over your shoulder. Bucky looks up from his phone, narrowing his eyes at you. “We know where Sam and Sharon were headed, we can just meet them there.” You start heading for the street at the end of the alley, but just as you brush past Bucky, he grabs your arm roughly and stops you.
“No, we’re going to get somewhere safe and wait for Torres to fix comms before we do anything.” Bucky’s holding your arm tightly, keeping you just a couple of inches away from him as he looks down at you with a harsh gaze. You shake his grip off but don’t move away from him.
“What makes you think you get to decide on the new plan?” You ask, leaning in a little closer as the question leaves your lips. You almost let out a laugh when Bucky’s eyes flit down to your where your lips are mere inches from his own. You’ve done this dance with him before. You’ve been in plenty of these tense situations with him, moments in the field where you’re so against each other that you can’t decide if you want to fight him or fuck him. Of course, you’ve always simply fought him in the past. Fucking him was never actually an option, but hell, it sure is satisfying when he does something that lets you know he thinks about it as much as you do.
“I’ve already decided on the new plan. You can either go along with it or go out and get yourself killed. I’m starting to not really give a shit about what you do.” Bucky retorts. He looks down at his phone again, breaking the intense eye contact that you were sort of enjoying. “There’s a motel two blocks over. I say we go there and wait for Torres to figure out what the hell is wrong with comms.”
As much as you want to continue defying Bucky, you know it’d be a hell of a trek from here to wherever Sam and Sharon are right now. There’s also no guarantee that they made it to their destination, they could’ve run into any kind of trouble in a city like this. They might be acting out their own backup plan, just like you and Bucky. Bucky turns around and starts heading for the street, not even looking back to see if you’re following. When you let out a soft sigh and he hears your small footsteps echoing off of the brick walls, he knows he’s won this fight. He doesn’t even try to hide the smug look that’s spreading across his face. Winning an argument with you is something he can be proud of, because it doesn’t happen very often.
---
Christmas Eve in Madripoor. Has anything ever sounded sadder than that? Christmas Eve, surrounded by a community of people who have done enough horrendous things to rival the entire population of Guantanamo Bay. Bucky sinks into the only chair in the dingy little motel room, checking his phone once again to see if Torres has called him back yet. Still nothing. Nothing from Sam or Sharon either, though he didn’t expect anything from them since the area they were headed into is known to utilize various types of phone and device jammers, transmitting radio waves that block phones from connecting to cell towers.
You study Bucky from your place on the foot of the bed. He’s leaned back in the small armchair, clearly attempting to get comfortable but failing because he’s way too big for such a little seat. He closes his eyes and lets his head rest back, giving you a chance to really look at him. He’s let his stubble grow out a little more than usual this month, neglecting to really shave it with all of the back-to-back missions you’ve both been sent out on. It suits him. Someone as cold and calloused as Bucky shouldn’t have a smooth baby face. Your eyes coast further down, focusing on where you can just barely see his pulse on the side of his neck. You wonder how many times you’ve made his pulse quicken with anger in this last week alone. Probably enough to give the guy high blood pressure. Your gaze is just settling on his broad shoulders when his eyes blink open and he catches you staring.
“Are you going to sit there and stare at me until we get out of here?”
“Maybe. It’s what you do to everyone else, why can’t I try it out?” You ask. There’s a reason Sam likes to call him the bionic staring machine.
“Try it out?” Bucky laughs, lifting his head from the back of the chair now. “You stare all the time.”
“I do not.” You’re almost offended at his accusation. You? Staring all the time? At him? No fucking way. Maybe sometimes, but you thought you were covert enough about it that he never noticed. You just can’t help it sometimes. You’re intrigued by him every bit as much as you hate him. He’s over a hundred years old, yet he looks like he’s only a few years older than you. His taste in music is that of an elderly man, while his taste in clothes is perfectly in style with the current era. You hate the way he’s constantly berating you and attempting to order you around in the field, but you like the way he looks at you when you give in and take an order once in a blue moon. So, sometimes, you stare.
“You’ve been staring at my arm for half of the night.”
“Because it’s the only thing I like about you.”
“Right, the only thing.” Bucky repeats your words slowly, as if he’s tasting them. You maintain eye contact with him as he licks his bottom lip. Against your better judgement, your gaze darts down to his mouth, to his mouth that always seems to say things that drive you mad and turn you on simultaneously. “You know, I thought you might be nicer around Christmastime.” A genuine laugh breezes past your lips at the absolutely insane thought he’s just shared with you.
“It’s a little hard to be nice when we’re stuck on skull island on Christmas Eve, Bucky.”
“Be honest, you wouldn’t have been any nicer if we were back home.” He tilts his head to the side as he analyzes your body language. You’re sitting on the foot of the bed with your legs dangling over the edge. Your weight is resting back on the palms of your hands and you seem perfectly at ease. Bucky’s finding it a little surprising that you haven’t gotten up and made a dramatic exit yet. He’s surprised that you’re still going along with his plan at all honestly. He has to wonder why you’re so oddly content sitting here bantering back and forth with him while Torres takes his sweet time figuring things out.
“Wouldn’t you have been off to Sarah’s for Christmas if we were back home?” Bucky raises an eyebrow at your question. He didn’t know that you knew he was close with Sam’s family. Though, he probably should’ve assumed since you knew Sam long before he did. You’ve probably even met Sarah before.
“Maybe. Spending Christmas in the tower doesn’t sound very memorable.”
“It’s not.” You say softly, thinking back to the last three years. It’s not that you didn’t have anywhere to go for Christmas. In the past, Sam has invited you to go see Sarah and the kids the week of Christmas, even Clint extends an open invitation for you to spend every Christmas with his family. But something about being around happy families on the biggest holiday of the year makes you feel the same way you do when you’re third-wheeling Wanda and Vision. You like to be around the Christmas cheer and festivities but you feel like you don’t fully belong. You’ve spent the last three Christmases in the tower on your own and it’s not that bad. A little lonely and not your favorite time of year like it used to be, but still, not that bad. Bucky picks up on your slightly sullen tone and the way you seem a little more distant suddenly.
“You’re welcome then.” Bucky says, a smug smile taking over his features. You shoot him a slightly confused look.
“For what?”
“For giving you a memorable Christmas.” He says it like he’s just given you an actual Christmas gift. You laugh lightly just as his phone is lighting up with a message.
“You say that like I’d actually thank you for sabotaging our mission tonight and getting us stranded in the shittiest place on Earth.” Bucky’s smug smile remains plastered across his face, even as he glances down and reads the text from Torres.
“Looks like we’re stuck here for a while longer. Sam and Sharon got through to Torres and said they’re holed up somewhere across town, just like we are. Fury doesn’t want anyone making any more moves tonight without working comms and surveillance.” Bucky’s words bring your bad mood right back to the surface in an instant. You fall back onto the bed with a dramatic sigh, covering your face with your hands.
“How long is a while longer?” You’re dying to know.
“Could be a few hours, could be all night.” Bucky says nonchalantly, like he doesn’t have a care in the world that the two of you are stuck here together. It’s infuriating. You push yourself off of the bed and start for the door, but Bucky’s quick to rise from his chair and cross the small motel room in a mere four steps, reaching you just as your fingertips are brushing the door handle. He plants his flesh palm firmly against the wooden door, effectively stopping you from being able to open it. Fuck his super soldier strength.
“I’m not staying here all night. There are things we could be doing besides sitting here waiting around.” You say impatiently, wrapping your hand around the door handle but not pulling yet. With the way the two of you are standing, Bucky’s chest is brushing against your back and for the life of you, you can’t figure out why the hell he’s so close.
“What else could we be doing out there? You walk out that door and into the street and every bounty hunter in the city will be on you within five minutes. I’ve been hunted here before, Y/n, it’s not a game you want to play.” The energy between the two of you is so tense, so electrified, you wonder how your hand hasn’t sparked against the metal door handle.
“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t give a shit about what I do.” You throw his words from earlier right back in his face. As Bucky’s hand against the door curls into a fist, you stand there waiting for him to back off. If he really doesn’t give a shit, he’ll let you walk out of here right now. But of course, Bucky gives a shit. Bucky gives so much of a shit that the mere thought of you waltzing out into the city at this hour, opening yourself up to unlimited danger, has him ready to burn the whole place down. You swallow as your grip on the door handle tightens, listening to Bucky’s even breathing right behind you.
He doesn’t even know what’s come over him when he finds himself moving impossibly closer to you, letting his chest fully press against your back now. He leans down a couple of inches until his lips are grazing over the shell of your left ear, with his right hand still braced against the door over your right shoulder. He’s trapping you there with his body.
“You are so fucking insufferable.” He whispers the insult against your ear, but it somehow it doesn’t even feel like an insult. It almost feels like he’s just whispered a little sweet nothing in your ear. Your grip on the door handle falters and Bucky notices, so he keeps going. He’ll do whatever it takes to get you to stay here, to stop you from walking out into Madripoor and getting yourself killed tonight. If this is what it takes, so be it. “You wanted me to stop you, didn’t you? You wanted me to force you to stay.”
“N-no.” You lie, hating the way you stutter through the simplest two-letter word known to man. It’s so hard to think with him this close to you.
“Insufferable and a liar.” Bucky tsks, just as your hand is fully falling away from the door handle. He can’t help but smile at how easily this is working on you. If he’d known he only needed to be a little more authoritative and stand a little closer to you to make you listen to him, he would’ve tried it a long time ago. You watch, with goosebumps spreading across your skin beneath your tactical suit, as Bucky’s right hand skims down the flat surface of the door slowly. He continues on until his hand reaches the deadbolt just above the door handle. Click. The sound of the lock clicking sets off a chain reaction. A wave of confidence spreads through you like a wildfire and you turn around in the small space that Bucky has you trapped in. You thought he might step back once you were face to face, but no. He maintains his position, but now with his chest nearly touching yours and his breath fanning across your face. Though you feel confident and sure of yourself in this moment, when you look up at him like this you feel small. You feel like he could push you against the door and have his way with you if he wanted, and you couldn’t do a thing about it except enjoy it. The thought actually turns you on way more than it should, considering how independent and stubborn you are.
“Insufferable and yet you’re trapping me in here. Who’s the liar?” You taunt, tilting your chin up and looking into his blue eyes. His normally cold, steely gaze has a different look now. There’s something bright behind his eyes, something exciting. Your eyes dart down to his mouth, lingering on his bottom lip a little longer than they should have, before you meet his gaze once more.
“Don’t look at me like that unless you’re going to kiss me.” His tone is harsh but his eyes are daring. He wants you to kiss him. He’s daring you to do it. Unfortunately, you’ve never been one to back down from a dare. Even the stupidest of dares. So, you commit to it. You look at him the exact same way you just did, letting your eyes coast down his face and soak in the sight of his full lips. When you meet his gaze one last time, there’s only one little thought in his mind.
That’s it, good girl.
You have to raise up on your toes to reach his lips, because of course Bucky Barnes would stand there refusing to make it any easier for you. He wants to see you struggle to get what you want from him. After making his working life a living hell for months, he’s going to have you exactly how he wants you, or not at all. So, as you stand a little taller on your toes, Bucky acts like he couldn’t care less that you’re about to give him something he’s fucking dreamt about every night since he first started hating you. When your lips press against his, his bottom lip finds its place between the two of yours and he almost scoffs at how timid you’re being. It’s like you’re testing the waters, and he’s not having any of that. He’s quick to fist his hand in the hair at the nape of your neck and walk you back one step so your ass hits the door. He breaks the kiss before it’s even been a second, giving you an annoyed look as he holds you in place between his body and the door.
“Let’s try that again.” Bucky says the words right against your lips, as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and then slots his thigh between yours. As he bends his knee, his hands travel down your sides to grab onto your hips. He angles your hips down just slightly, as he brings his leg up an inch, and you look down right as your clothed cunt makes contact with his thigh. You inhale sharply at the unexpected move, but you don’t move at all. You stay right where he wants you, and he waits patiently for you to look up at him again. When you finally do, a switch inside of you flips and you know you’re about to sabotage tonight’s mission even more. You pull Bucky down to your mouth, kissing him with so much heat and intensity that his hands briefly loosen on your hips, like he wasn’t expecting this from you. After two seconds, his hands start sliding right back up your waist until you feel them both tangle in your hair, which he uses to pull you even harder against his mouth. You don’t think the kiss can get any more intense, until you feel his tongue dancing across your bottom lip. You part your lips without hesitation, letting him dominate the kiss in an instant.
You taste so fucking good. So. Fucking. Good. So good that Bucky doesn’t notice the first time you grind your pussy against his thigh, he’s too focused on exploring every bit of your mouth with his tongue and savoring the taste of you. But the second time? Fuck. The second time you grind down on his thigh you moan into the kiss and Bucky has to stop. He pulls back while keeping one hand in the hair at the nape of your neck. The look on your face is pure lust. It’s longing. It’s making Bucky’s cock twitch in his pants and making it really hard to decide what to do with you first. God. That one kiss opened up the floodgates.
“Let me hear that sound again.” Bucky encourages you while using his hold on your hips to guide you to grind down a third time. He watches between the two of you as you drag your cunt along his thigh. The moan that leaves your lips this time is too much. He’s had enough. He quickly pulls away from you, taking two steps back and running a hand through his hair. He eyes you as you stand with your back against the door, catching your breath and staring right back at him.
“I want a memorable Christmas.” You speak so softly that Bucky has to rewind it in his head to really catch onto what you’ve just said. You want a memorable Christmas. You’re asking him to give you a memorable Christmas. He looks you over slowly, carefully, taking in every detail of the way you look right now. Your skin, though still covered by your tactical suit, heats up to an uncomfortable degree under his watchful gaze.
“Say please.”
---
He’s going to hate fuck you. There’s nothing else you could possibly call it, and honestly nothing else you’d want to call it. You’re standing in front of the bathroom sink, locking eyes with Bucky in the reflection of the mirror. You really thought he was going to take you to bed, but no. As soon as you gave in and said please like he wanted you to, he pulled you away from the motel room door and pushed you into the bathroom. He wants to take you from behind but he wants a clear view of how much you’re enjoying it the whole fucking time. If he’s about to fuck away the obscene amount of tension that’s been between the two of you for the last few months, he’s going to memorize every damn face you make, every sound that leaves your lips, and every inch of your body. He’s going to ruin you, so that every time you think about how much you hate him, you can’t help but think about how much you loved being fucked by him.
You’re both quiet, except for heavy breaths and a few soft moans and groans, as Bucky starts taking off his clothes behind you. He juts his chin out slightly after dropping his shirt on the floor, gesturing for you to take your clothes off too. You follow his moves exactly, dropping your shirt on top of his. He takes a few seconds to admire the way your breasts sit so perfectly in your bra, but then he finds himself growing annoyed at even that little bit of fabric obstructing his view. He undoes it for you, with only one hand, while his free hand begins undoing his belt. Of course this fucking man can undo his belt with just one hand. After a few more agonizingly slow seconds of the two of you undressing, you’re both completely naked. Bucky takes a deep breath in, and when he breathes it back out it warms the back of your neck.
Just like earlier, Bucky nudges your legs to spread a little wider, using his knee. Your body obeys his silent command like it’s routine for you. He loves the way you respond to him so willingly. He’s never had you like this, not even a little bit, and it’s giving him such a high. It’s the first time he’s ever had you listening to him without a single word of rebuttal, without any stubbornness or refusal. He should’ve fucked you so long ago.
Bucky’s vibranium index finger traces over your spine, from the very top to the bottom, sending a chill all throughout your body. It only cools you off for a second, before he uses that same hand to push you forward until you’re slightly bent over the sink. His flesh hand dances across your ass, deftly dipping between your legs and making contact with your wet folds. He drags two fingertips back and forth there, collecting your wetness before focusing his touch on your clit. As soon as he applies pressure, your back arches and your ass presses back against him. That’s when you feel his hard cock, standing fully erect, nearly between your ass cheeks. He’s big. So big that for a second you fear there’s no way he’ll fit inside of you, but something tells you that you were made for his cock. It’ll fit. He’ll make it fit.
“You can’t stand to be around me, but you’re nearly dripping for me.” Bucky says lowly, rubbing slow circles against your clit. A string of moans slips past your lips and he smiles as he watches your eyes close in the mirror. “That’s it, you like that, don’t you?”
“You talk too much.” You snap, opening your eyes and meeting his gaze in the mirror. His smile darkens and he pulls his hand away from your clit. You should’ve kept your mouth shut. Suddenly, his ring and middle fingers plunge so deep inside of you that you see stars. He curls them, dragging his fingertips against the walls of your pussy over and over. He didn’t start out slow by any stretch of the imagination, no. He begins fucking those two fingers in and out of you at such a perfect pace that your legs begin feeling weak far too soon. You grip the edge of the bathroom sink so tightly that your knuckles turn white.
“You don’t even have to answer me, baby. I can tell you like it.” Bucky punctuates his words with another hard thrust of his fingers, and then curls them again, in a way that makes that familiar knot in your lower stomach tighten more and more with each passing second. You try to drown out his voice, focusing instead on how fucking skilled he is with his hand. Bucky’s mesmerized as he watches you draw closer and closer to your orgasm. He almost wants to let you have it. He considers finger fucking you straight through it, and then giving you another on his cock, but he isn’t going to be that nice to you. If he only gets one orgasm here tonight, then so do you.
The whine that leaves your lips when Bucky pulls his fingers out of you should embarrass you. You should absolutely hate how needy you are for him, but you feel his cock twitch against your ass when he hears the sound and you love it.
“You like that, don’t you?” You tease. You love using his words against him. You do it often in arguments and he hates it. His jaw clenches, but he says nothing in response. Instead, he wraps his flesh hand around his cock and gives it a few quick strokes before lining it up with your entrance. He looks down between the two of you, letting his eyes roam down your arched back, straight to where his cock is poised and ready to slide in. He knows he’s big. He knows his cock is above average, both in thickness and in length. He knows the nice thing to do would be to warm you up a little more, build up to using three fingers on you before finally fucking you slowly until you adjust to his size. But the two of you aren’t ever nice to each other.
So, Bucky begins pushing the head of cock inside you, letting his head fall back and his fingertips leave bruises on your hips and waist as he holds you firmly in place. He’s only an inch in and you’re already feeling the sting. Shit, he’s the biggest you’ve ever had. He hasn’t even let you get a look at his cock yet, but as he forces it into you, you’re thankful he didn’t let you see it first. You might’ve chickened out. Bucky isn’t even halfway in before you’re moaning and trying to pull off a little, attempting to wriggle out of his grasp.
“Stop fucking moving.” He seethes, his head snapping forward so he can look at you in the mirror again. “You’re going to take all of it.”
Everything was a blur when he finally bottomed out inside you. He didn’t even pause once he was fully inside you, he immediately began dragging his cock back out and then pushing it in again. After the third thrust, you started to feel pleasure.
Bucky alternates between watching the way you’re falling apart for him in the mirror and looking down to watch his cock repeatedly disappear into the most perfect cunt he’s ever fucked. He truly can’t decide which view he likes more. The first time you moan his name sends him into a tailspin. He has no control over the way he fists your hair in his right hand and yanks you back against his chest, keeping your back arched and your face perfectly visible in the mirror. He fucks his cock into you so relentlessly, repeatedly hitting just the right spot inside of you, that you’re sure your previous thought was right. You were made for his cock. There isn’t a doubt in your mind.
When you start pushing your ass back against him, meeting each of his thrusts, Bucky bites down on his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood. When he started this, he had every intention of finishing inside of you. He wanted to do it without anything between the two of you, he wanted to cum inside of you so deeply that you’d feel his spend dripping out of you for the rest of the mission. But suddenly all he wants to do is cum in your mouth. He wants you to know what he tastes like. He wants to see what you look like on your knees for him. The harder he fucks you, the more he thinks about it, until he’s positive he won’t be able to finish this any other way.
So, not even a moment later, Bucky is pulling his cock out of you and pushing your shoulder downward. You instantly understand that he wants you on your knees, and you oblige him without giving it a second thought. When your mouth opens without even a second of a pause, Bucky slides his length past your lips. His head falls back and a sinful groan graces your ears as he revels in the feeling of your tongue gliding along his shaft.
“Good girl.” He groans. Good girl. Fuck. The praise has you snaking your own hand between your legs, chasing your own release as Bucky uses your mouth like he owns it. In his mind right now, he does own it. After a few seconds, he looks down at you once again and notices what you’re doing with your hand. You moan around his cock as you rub circles over your clit and the vibration from the sound sends Bucky right to the edge. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” You look up at him, your eyes giving him clear permission to let go. You want him to cum in your mouth. Another groan is ripped from his chest, and you hear your name fall from his lips just as you taste his cum. Your own orgasm comes crashing down right as he’s finishing in your mouth, and he watches you closely as you carry yourself through it.
Bucky wraps his hand around the base of his cock and pulls it out of your mouth slowly, the two of you maintaining eye contact like it would be a sin to look away. Seeing your mouth full of his cum gives him an unfamiliar feeling deep in his chest. He feels possessive. He wants you to know that you belong to him now.
As you swallow everything that he gave you, there’s only one way to describe how you’re feeling. While you still hate this man with every fiber of your being, you feel like you belong to him now. Your body isn’t your own anymore.
You belong to the man you hate most, and you kind of like it.
TAG LIST (if your user is crossed through, Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you):
@gyokujyn @mrsjoequinn @thealloveru2 @nixxaswrld @ordelixx @fandomsfeminismandme
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes smut#mcu#bucky barnes x you#marvel#the winter soldier#winter soldier#12 days of smut
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Reader getting a little embarrassed bc Ellie's strap won't fit?
Sorry of that's too much
perfect fit. ♡
screaming crying losing my mind. what a perf excuse to use “ill make it fit”
She’d be on top of you, forehead lightly pressed onto yours. You feel her pouty, somewhat chapped lips ghosting over your own, then lightly and delicately pecking the corner of your mouth. It’s one of your favorite types of kisses, makes you melt into the mattress, heavenly sigh, tremble within her touch. The warmth of her breath caresses your skin, a gentle zephyr of intimacy, of being so close. She looks at you so fucking intently, concentrated, fixated, scarred brows knit together and god, you love that little serious line that forms in between them.
The best way to describe her gaze, the most accurate one, would be to say that she looks at you as if she’s studying, genuinely attempting to take in every little gasp that you let out, eager to decipher every subtle nuance of your existencet, every single blink of your eyelids.
Ellie lowers her hand down from your cheek to the base of her strap on, caressing it upon your soaking, gushing slit. When you moan as a result of its bulbous tip hitting the hood of your clit, then your clit itself, Ellie smirks like an asshole. "I can just keep going like that if you want me to”, she whispers, meaning she knows she could make your pussy cum from just rubbing her cock all over its folds. You shake your head no, because as much as you know that it’s true, you yearn for her inside of you, for that intimacy of getting fucked deep with something she treats as if was her own. Ellie chuckles. “What do you want then, babe?” she coos lowly, continuously hitting that sweet spot above your clit that makes you whine, and her grunt.
You attempt to grab the back of her neck and bring her closer to you, to push her in somehow, but you’re too overwhelmed by everything, your hand ends up falling on the mattress and landing with a small thud. You whine, “Ellie…”, she smirks, moistening her bottom lip and slightly pushing the tip in, so it hangs juuuust a tiny bit away from being inside of your hole. “Inside?” she murmurs, never failing to add that teasing “yeah?” of a raspy coo.
You eagerly nod, she loves it when you do that — so fucking pliant, she stops you mid nod for a kiss that leaves the two of you breathless, tongues dancing a nasty, wet, sinful rhythm within the realm of your hot mouth. She leaves your lips with a loud smack. Your lips are swollen, a pout that kills, how could she ever concentrate on something else in her life?
She’d be absolutely lying if she said she didn’t have daydreams (and nightdreams) of your tight cunt stretched out by her cock, of seeing that pretty clit poking and peaking from the top of your pussy, of watching and taking in the sight of the stretch, the way it’ll slide up and down so easily because of how wet you get.
Unfortunately, Ellie did not take the tightness of yourself in consideration. She picked and packed a nine incher, deep blue and veiny, a bold choice, a goddamn cocky one.
You grab her sleek bicep and dent her skin with your nails, she hisses. You’re actually soaking, a pretty clear pool of heavenly nectar formed on the bedsheet, inside the seam of your ass. Your tiny whimpers are shaky and breathy and ever so desperate, egging Ellie on. “please…” you beg even under no command to do so. “Want it that bad?” teases Ellie, but with how desperate she has become, it sounds more like a plea, begging to please tell her how bad.
“need it inside, ellie, n-need you inside”
"Mhm", she hums softly, eyelids descending languidly, surrendering to the ecstasy of hearing your voice. “M’gonna fuck you” — god, you love it when she tells it like it is.
Pampering your cheeks with desperate, wet little kisses like raindrops, she pushes the tip in further, but… it won’t go inside. It’s blocked, your narrow hole begins to burn, redden, eyesight going out of focus, everything fading into a hazy abstraction. “Babe, it won’t…” she murmurs and attempts to fuck herself inside again. “Fuck, t'wont go in”
Your heart quickens its rhythm, a pulsating drumbeat beneath your chest, as you instinctively shut your eyes and, with a mix of embarrassment and restraint, gently bite down on your lip. You spread your thighs even further, attempting to somehow give her more space for movement, she pushes in again, you wince. “Owh, Ellie… owh”
You don't quite know if you're more embarrassed, or more pissed off. Your hole pulsates and yearns for a taste of her dick, but it hurts, and this feeling bubbles up inside your chest — This actual fear of disappointment, of not being good enough like her previous partners, of being or feeling too fragile, too inexperienced. You can't help but scan your eyes over her face, looking for a sign that will tell you that you're right, that you have disappointed her or worse, but before you manage to find it —
“Ffffuuuhck” she exasperates breathily. She strokes your cheeks with her thumb, a worried expression on her face. Her eyes dart over your form, muscles of her jaw tightly clenched. "Don't wanna hurt you", She murmurs and her voice is so sweet, "Can jus' use my fingers, yeah?"
“No, please" you sob, "I’m— fuck, i’m too tight!” your voice is a whine, an actual tear leaking from the corner of your eye, chin wobbling. Ellie’s so fucking torn because poor you, and she knows it hurts — she doesn’t want to hurt you, ever — but hearing those words fall from your lips… it’s hard not to buck her hips inwards and make you take it, miss “too tight”
“This is so… m'sorry” you actually sob, sniffling and avoiding her loving gaze, and maybe if you’d look — instead of letting your embarrassment wash over you and be a murky presence in your mind, your tears might have faltered. “S’not gonna fit”, your chest heaves. Ellie wipes a tear away — from your cheek, from the corners of your eyes, she considers comforting you, telling you to never apologize for anything, ever again, but she's sensible and rational and knows what do to next, to actually stop your tears from falling.
“babe?”, she huskily murmurs. You hum back, holding onto another choked sob.
“I’ll make it fit”
“Know I will”
#𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 anon 🎀#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams x you
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Worship
A/N: This season has made me simp for both Akaza and Douma, so here's a smutty headcanon thing.
Akaza and Douma cannot stand each other. They’re complete opposites in almost every way, especially when it comes to their treatment of women. Akaza believes them to be untouchable, while Douma thinks that the most delectable flesh comes from beautiful young women.
However, they do have a single thing in common. Both men are huge fans of worshipping their partner’s body, in their own unique ways.
You see, both demon’s ideology steams from their adoration for women. Douma, being an egotistic hedonist, indulges his love for them by devouring their bodies, in my ways than one.
He enjoys making his partner feels good, as it's another way for his ego to be fed. Not only does he like their reactions, but he loves the taste of pussy. Yours in particular. He's a munch, your honor.
Getting a taste of your slick is a daily requirement, and when he's particularly desperate, he'll fall to his knees and pleasure you where you stand.
Given his sadistic streak, he adores blending pain and pleasure together. He’ll tie you up to make sure you can’t run from him, and when he’s feeling particularly cruel, he may blindfold you, so you won’t be able to guess his next move. The one thing he’ll never do, though, is gag you. He adores hearing your noises too much for that. He likes seeing you be pathetic, so he’s a huge fan of edging. He’ll play with you until you’re on the brink of orgasm, then stop his motions until you’re begging for him to let you cum. And once he does, he switches from edging to overstimulation. He’s a demon with stamina a human can only dream of, and he’ll keep going until you’re sobbing for him to stop. Often, you two are at it until the sun is peaking over the horizon.
And if you make him upset, he has an array of paddles and whips to spank you with.
On the flip side, Akaza despises the idea of inflicting pain onto women, making them completely off-limits when it comes to killing. When it comes to sex, he’ll treat you like the most precious thing in the world and draw orgasm after orgasm from you. He has a hard time expressing his emotions, so sex is his way of showing his love for you.
The only way he’ll taste a woman is when he goes down on her, and like any good munch, he’ll be licking and sucking for a while. His favorite way to eat you is when you’re resting on your forearms, ass propped in the air, and pussy on display. It gives him a great view of your glistening folds and throbbing clit, and when your pussy starts to get too sensitive from coming too many times, he’ll allow his tongue to venture to your ass. As taboo as it is, it makes you feel good, which is all he cares about. He doesn’t look like Sukuna for nothing.
Only when you’re well-prepared will he fuck you. He’s inhumanly large, and if you aren’t well-stretched and very lubricated, you have no hope of taking him. He’ll refuse to fuck you if your pussy isn’t dripping with your juices because God forbid that he hurts you. There’s a reason those pants are baggy.
Not only is his dick inhumane in size, but in appearance, too. His shaft has bulging veins and ridges that offer you some delicious stimulation. Instead of doming off, his cockhead is more of a pointed tip, providing you with an interesting sensation as he pounds into you. His unique additions make him even harder to take. But though the stretch may be a little painful, once you’re adjusted, he’ll have you drooling and cock drunk in no time ♥️
A/N: I might write a proper threesome with them because I'm down BAD 😩
#headcanon#headcanons#demon slayer#akaza smut#demon slayer akaza#akaza x y/n#akaza x reader#upper moons#doma#douma#douma x reader#douma headcanons#kny douma#akaza headcanons#kny akaza#douma smut#demon slayer smut#kny smut#munches#smut#smutty headcanons
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insecurities | astarion a.
summary: “why don’t you like me?” he asks, his voice small amid the symphony of the forest dwellers. you choke on your spittle. how unlike your undead friend to sound so unsure of himself.
The night is quiet.
Most of your companions have retired to their tents. Tending to their weapons, reading, sleeping.
You’re left by the fire, snapping twigs to further kindle it. You smile quietly. The atmospheric pop and fizz bring you comfort as a summery breeze slides in.
You turn away in search of more wood when you hear a weighted sigh, followed by the thunk of the log behind you.
Seems someone’s decided to impede on your party of one.
You spin around to see your favorite vampire sitting opposite you on the log, his features accentuated by the fire. Astarion watches you with a pout on his lips and his brows knit together. You snort, wholly prepared for him to complain about something.
“What’s wrong, sunshine?” you query, squatting and poking around the campfire. “Our lodgings not to your liking? You break a nail? A rat crawl up into your ass?” Your eyes crinkle with mirth.
Astarion leans back on his hands, one leg crossed over the other. He stares at you with those petulant eyes, studying you for a beat. It’s unlike him to be so serious. Silence stretches between you for a moment longer before he asks, “Why don’t you like me?”
You nearly choke on your spittle. His brazenness floors you. Literally. You plop down on the ground, dusting off your hands, your expression bemused. “Excuse me?”
“Oh, come now.” He crosses his arms. Looks off to the side, face screwing up into a scowl. “You haven’t slept with me. You shrug off all my advances. Hells, it feels like you won’t even give me the time of day.”
Another snort. Your tone drips with sarcasm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know I had to sleep with someone to show I cared.”
Astarion scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. “Bullshit. Have you seen me? I’m irresistible. The very definition of sex on legs, so I’ve been told. People would kill for a chance at me. And I would’ve bedded you a thousand times over, had you stopped playing hard to get.”
You sigh. Laugh a little disbelievingly, slowly standing. “Astarion—”
“I’m not your type, am I? Do you even have a type? It’s Halsin, isn’t it? That oaf of a druid.”
You caution a few steps around the fire towards him, your hands stretched out placatingly. You’re exasperated. “Astarion, look—”
“I don’t blame you. I would’ve bedded him, too.”
“Astarion!”
You’re in front of him now. Bent over, gathering his icy cheeks into your palms. He looks at you with confusion marring his features. You have his attention, nonetheless.
Your eyes gloss over with wetness. A forlorn smile rounds your lips. Your chest swells with emotion, and you tuck some errant curls behind Astarion’s ear.
“I thought we knew each other better than that.” You swallow before wetting your lips. You look down at the ground, inhaling deeply. Kneel before him, taking up his hands with all the gentleness of the world, your eyes shining with the threat of tears.
“You are more than your body, Astarion. More than some fling. More than a romp in the dirt. I wish you could see that. Sex is nice. Gods, it can be such an incredible thing. But I don’t need it to know I mean something to you. And I don’t need it to show you I adore you.”
Astarion blinks. For a moment, only the two of you exist in this world of chirping crickets and crackling fire. Tenderness flashes across his face before the vampire chuckles softly, patting your hands, squeezing them. His lashes flutter. He’s breathtaking.
“You adore me, do you?” Astarion purrs, his cockiness returning tenfold. “I am rather amazing, aren’t I?” He leans back again to have a look at his nails, radiating smugness.
You snort, standing and wiping your hands on your breeches. “You just had to muck it up, didn’t you?” You can’t help the quirk of your lips as you turn back to tend to the fire.
“Darling. Who would I be if I didn’t?”
“And to think, I was just about to kiss you.”
The indignant sound Astarion releases behind you makes your ribs blossom with pride.
Ah, well. Maybe next time.
masterlist
#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#astarion x you#astarion fluff#astarion drabble#astarion bg3#astarion fanfic#my attempt at writing something less detailed#and more dialogue-driven#astarion romance#astarion x gn reader#astarion x gn!tav#astarion deserves all the love#tw: sex mention#tw: language
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⸻ JEALOUS, JEALOUS BOY
pairing: sanji x reader
word count: 5.7k
synopsis: life as a pirate is never boring, especially when your best friend is sanji—a flirtatious chef who can’t seem to sort out his feelings, or yours, for that matter. that makes things all the more complicated when you’re forced to go undercover and sanji is dragged along with you as your very fake husband. the million-dollar question is: when lines start blurring, how do you differentiate between what’s fake and what’s real?
+ + + + + + + + + + + + +
“We broke up.”
“How long? Two months?”
You shrug. “I stopped counting anniversaries after the first couple of failed ones.”
Sanji swings his knife a tad too forcefully. The loud THUD of it smashing into the cutting board causes you to jump. You peer over the counter and grimace at the sight.
“God, what did that poor tuna ever do to you?”
Sanji continues slicing into the red flesh, more aggressively than before, but still with the same care and precision that he affords every ingredient he touches.
“Why?”
“Why what?” You lift your gaze to his face, smiling softly at the concentration twisting his features. It’s one of the things you admire greatly about Sanji—the sheer dedication and love he has for his craft.
“Why did you break up with him?” Sanji repeats. He’s chopping up a variety of garnish now. Again, with more aggression than necessary.
You raise a brow, but decide not to comment on it.
“What makes you think I was the one who called it quits?”
He sets the knife down and turns to you, blonde bangs falling across his face. Sanji flashes you his signature flirtatious smile, but there’s a strange hint of tension attached to it.
“Who would ever think to break up with you?” He leans in, gaze darkening. “They would have to be crazy.”
You pull back, rolling your eyes. He’s always like this. Coy. Intimate. The ultimate womanizer. Sometimes… you wish it could be different.
“Well, he must have been crazy then.”
“What?” Sanji pauses, confusion etches his expression. “You… wait… he broke up with you?!”
“Don’t sound so surprised. He only beat me to it by a week. I had the decency to try and wait until after Valentines,” you note. You aren’t particularly broken up about the whole thing. Your ex is barely an ex—a summer fling, if anything. But Sanji, on the other hand, is acting as if some horrible crime has been committed.
“I’ll kill him.”
You blink. “Okay. A bit of an overreaction.”
“How dare he…” Sanji mumbles, not hearing you. His hand tightly grips the knife handle, and you swear the temperature just dropped even in the presence of boiling pots and simmering roux.
“Alright, enough. Don’t be so dramatic,” you laugh, moving to gently pry his fingers from their iron grip on the handle. He lets you—watching as you take the blade from him, and relishing in the soft feel of your skin against his. He itches to grab your hand and pull you closer. But he doesn’t. He won’t.
He can’t.
Sanji learned very quickly that his charms and gimmicks weren’t going to work on you. In all fairness, they rarely do, but for some unfathomable reason, he can’t seem to let that particular rejection go. He will always resent that part of him for pushing you away and drawing that boundary—a line you both delicately toe, never to cross over to each other’s side.
Your first meeting was… disastrous, to say the least. Sanji had just met the crew, and was tripping over himself to impress Nami, when you had made your way back to the others after a quick break in the powder room.
You had witnessed all of his shameless flirting and blatant promiscuity on your way back. You immediately took a strong dislike to the blonde chef, his behaviour reminiscent of exes that were none too pleasant.
“I’m back.”
At the sound of your voice, Sanji beamed, turning to strike up another flowery bombardment of compliments and flattery… only to freeze in place when he saw you.
For once, his silver tongue lacked its luster, fumbling before the sight of you.
For once, he knew not what to say or do. He could only stare. Only admire and behold.
“Good job. You broke the chef,” Zoro deadpanned.
You pulled an expression of slight concern and mild annoyance.
“Um… are you alright?” You waved a hand across Sanji’s face. No reaction. The rest of the crew barely paid him any mind, too busy either eating, drinking… or arguing, in Nami and Zoro’s case.
You slipped into the booth next to Zoro, choosing to ignore the bizarre situation, when a deep, rumbling voice belonging to a peg-legged old man boomed from across Baratie.
“SANJI!”
It snapped Sanji out of his stupor, grounding him back into reality.
“Marry me.”
But perhaps not logic.
“What?”
Zoro pulled a face of disgust eerily similar to your own. Somewhere in the background, you vaguely heard Ussop choking on his drink. Nami clapped thunderously on his back. Is she trying to help him or kill him?
Luffy, through all of this, watched with bright, curious eyes.
“Yuuummphh fuu’yyy,” exclaimed Luffy, his mouth full of bread, gravy, and what you can only assume is a whole ribeye steak.
Zoro turned his disgust toward the captain. “Are you kidding?”
Luffy scarfed down another forkful of food, grinning wide as he swallowed the last of his meal. He patted his stomach, content, before turning his attention back to Sanji.
“You’re funny!” He laughed.
“That’s what you were trying to say?!”
Luffy ignored Zoro’s exasperation and just giggled in his usual carefree manner. Sanji ignored them all, choosing only you to spare his attention. You shifted uncomfortably, tension coursing through your veins at the way he watched you. As if you were the greatest treasure in all of the Four Seas and he was the king of the pirates—a man would do anything to covet it. Covet you.
Zoro and Luffy didn’t seem to grasp the situation as they continued to bicker in the background.
“Boys. Stop… FIGHTING!” Nami barked out. A swift smack from the ginger settled them both down, each sulking in a corner as she berated them for their behaviour.
You took a deep breath, willing your nerves to calm. You met Sanji’s eyes and they shone with hope.
“You want me to marry you?”
“Yes. Desperately,” he breathed out.
If heart eyes were real, they would beat within the passion of his gaze. Strong. Intense. Unabashed. You despised it. How could he look at you in that way after mere moments of greetings? It was lust. Nothing less, and certainly nothing more.
“SANJI, GET YOUR ASS BACK IN HERE!”
Sanji clenched his jaw at the voice, frustration and irritation barely contained. His expression smoothed over as he spoke to you.
“Think it over?”
You raise a brow. “What? The proposal?”
“Precisely that,” he smiled. Gorgeous asshole.
“Over my dead body,” you scoffed. Your rejection didn’t seem to deter him though, the grin on his face still present even as he left for the kitchen.
So many sleepless nights later and Sanji still can’t help but sigh whenever he remembers that day. He wishes he could take back his words, his actions… his everything. Maybe you would love him back if he did. Maybe you wouldn’t be dating morons who don’t even come close to deserving you—not that he does, but he would try.
For you, he would try it all.
Your soft voice breaks him out of his trip down memory lane.
“Seriously, it’s not a big deal,” you reassure.
Sanji wants to shout, But it is! Don’t you get that? How could losing you not be a big deal?
Instead, he shakes his head and takes a long draw from his cigarette. He watches the clouds waft up in lazy rings, circle around your head, and disintegrate into the kitchen heat. Sanji finds it increasingly difficult to meet your eyes.
“Are you alright, love?”
His genuine concern for you makes you smile. “I’m alright, Sanji. I wasn’t that attached, anyway.”
That twinkle in his eyes. It's back again.
“Really? Then what about my initial offer?” he jokes. Though it doesn’t sound like a joke to him. Doesn’t feel like one either.
“What are you talking about?” You ask. You take a spoonful of the broth and bring it to your lips, ignorant of the tense atmosphere. At least until the magnitude of Sanji’s next words drops.
“You know… marrying me.” Sanji holds his breath.
Shit. Why did I say that? He thinks, regretfully.
You falter, the spoon quickly forgotten in the pot. Your appetite disappears just as swiftly.
“Everytime I think we’re having a nice, serious conversation, you just have to go and… say something like that. Aren’t you bored of it? Tired of all the false promises and sweet talk?” You shake your head and stand up to leave.
“[Name], I–”
You cut him off. “I’m disappointed, Sanji.”
“Please, just hear–”
The kitchen door bursts open to show Usopp, who hurriedly beckons you both outside.
“Crew meeting, come on!”
Sanji turns to you, about to say something else, but you ignore him and follow Usopp out into the hallway and up to the deck. Sanji has no choice but to do the same.
Winter has arrived in the form of early nights and fresh snowfall—as if the chilling temperature itself isn’t enough of an indicator. Your breath crystallizes in the air as the three of you venture outside to where you meet the rest of the crew.
Nami has a large sheet of parchment spread flat across the floor with each member of the crew positioned around it in a wide circle. Upon closer inspection, you realize it isn’t one of her usual cartographic maps. It’s a blueprint. And the subject of it… is a castle?
“Nami, what is this?” You ask as you take a seat next to her.
With a pen, she circles a small room located in the eastern wing of the building’s upper level. It sits above a sprawling space. A ballroom, you wager. The schematics look complicated enough.
Nami begins to explain. “This is a blueprint of Ceres Palace, a high-security manor sitting atop the nearest port city. It is home to a powerful noble family…”
She flips the paper over. “…and this.”
A mass of glimmering golden ink shines under the moonlight, every meticulously painted stroke deliberate and delicate. The image is clear.
“Is that a devil fruit?” Robin inquires, eyes narrowing.
“One crafted from solid gold and pure diamond dust, gilded with sea jadeite. It is the most monetarily valuable ‘devil fruit’ in the world, depending on who you ask,” Nami answers. She flips the parchment again. “And we are going to steal it.”
“Wait a damn minu-“
“Hold on-“
“Are we sure that’s-“
A chorus of protests and concerns rise from the rest of the crew, and for good reason. From just a first glance of the palace grounds, you can tell this will be a risky heist, and something in your gut tells you that there’s more to it.
Nami shuts them all up with a pointed glare.
“Do you realize how long I spent drawing up this stupid thing?! One more word from any of you and I will shove it down your throat. Whole,” she threatens.
No one speaks.
“Good. Now, as I was saying, this heist will consist of two parts. The actual theft and the distraction.”
Sanji raises his hand. Nami points at him and nods.
“Why, exactly, are we stealing someone’s gold…er…artifact? I get that we’re pirates but… a bit out of the way, isn’t it?”
Nami, Ussop, and Chopper sigh in unison. The latter ambles your way and climbs into your lap, snuggling for warmth.
“Hello baby,” you murmur. You smile softly as the little reindeer tucks himself into your welcome embrace. You give Chopper a scratch under the chin before turning your attention back to the conversation at hand.
Zoro barely pays any attention, head bobbing a bit. He’s already falling asleep. Typical. Robin, on the other hand, seems to recognize the object.
“I’ve heard of this. Its original name was The Monarch’s Heart. It belonged to the royal family of that island. Twenty years ago, the king’s most trusted advisor spearheaded a coup d’état and a violent rebellion broke out, ending with the execution of the royal family, as well as the usurpation of the former, now exiled, king.” Robin crouches and lightly brushes the blueprint, tracing along its curves. “All this time, the Heart was believed to have been lost amidst war. You’re saying one of the nobles stole it?”
Nami scratches her head and grimaces. “Well, yeah, kinda.”
“What do you mean, ‘kinda’”? You ask.
“We don’t have any proof. Not really,” she shrugs.
“So, again, why are we doing this?” Sanji reiterates.
“We have proof!” Luffy grins. Your captain finally speaks up, too preoccupied with messing with a sleeping Zoro moments ago.
“Luffy—” Nami starts.
“What? I believe the old man. He’s a good guy.” Luffy pats his stomach. “He fed me.”
“What old man?” You’re getting more and more confused as the meeting drags on.
“Luffy. You met the exiled king, didn’t you?” Robin’s eyes twinkle with curiosity.
“Um… I don’t know? I forgot his name but he was nice. Told me about how his stuff got stolen unfairly so I promised to get it back for him.”
“So you don’t even know if he’s telling the truth? What if he was the bad guy, and the nobles who took over overthrew a tyrant?” Sanji blows smoke from his cigarette as he prods.
“He was not,” Robin states factually. “The king was known to be kind and benevolent, catering only to the needs of his people. Since that nation's birth, the royal faction was always at odds with the avaricious nobility. That tension came to a head in the form of a brutal uprising. Though massacre is much more fitting of a description for what occurred.”
“Mhm, mhm, mhm.” Luffy nods vigorously at her words. “So we’re gonna get his gold back for him.”
“Liberating another nation, are we?” Zoro yawns, barely waking up.
“Seems like it,” Nami sighs.
“It’s what the captain wants,” Robin smiles.
“And what Luffy wants…” you begin.
Everyone else groans.
“Luffy gets.”
“So…” Sanji shifts next to you. Closer. His warmth clouds your senses a little and you try to ignore the dizzying effect it has on you. “How do we do this, exactly?”
“I bust down the door and slice ‘em up,” Zoro offers.
“In your dreams, Mosshead. I could take down—”
You pinch his side. Sanji jumps and turns to you, a slight pout on his face. Despite what happened earlier, you find yourself trying not to laugh.
“You’re not doing that, Zoro,” Chopper scolds.
The swordsman tsks. “Fine. Then how the hell are we actually pulling this off?”
Nami explains the plan.
Sanji turns white.
Your mouth drops open. “Excuse me?!”
✧ ˚ · .
“Oh god, I’m going to throw up.”
Robin chuckles as she hands you silken gloves. “Don’t worry. You’ll do just fine. Remember, get in, pull the alarm, get out.”
“Easier said than done,” you grumble.
The plan is actually much more complex than what Robin makes it out to be.
The palace itself has two separate alarm systems—one for the vault, and another in case of fire. If both are activated at the same exact moment, they cause a complete system break, and the fire alarm overrides the theft security, forcing an evacuation with everyone none the wiser.
The plan is for you and Sanji to infiltrate the party under the pretense of a foreign dignitary and his spouse, survey and locate the alarm, cause a distraction, and pull the alarm the precise moment Nami unlocks the vault. All communicated via Den Den Mushi earpieces.
Easy peasy.
Your clothing sticks to you uncomfortably—tight in areas you don’t normally expose to the world. The scented oil in your hair makes you smell like you had just popped fresh out of the oven. A layered film of glittering makeup rests on your features, rendering the person in the mirror a complete, hapless stranger.
“Why did it have to be me?”
And Sanji?
You don’t voice that last bit.
“Nami’s the thief, the other boys would blow their covers immediately, I have other matters to attend to, and Chopper… Well, Chopper’s a reindeer.”
You run a hand through your hair. Anxiety claws at your skin. You feel a sudden urge to feign illness and rid yourself of this ridiculous plan.
“Must we pose as a couple? Surely there are other ways,” you implore.
“The invites we swiped were from married nobles,” Robin reminds.
You groan. Robin pats your shoulder supportively.
“There there. Don’t fret, you’ll do fine. Are you ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
Robin gives you another encouraging pat before she ushers you out of the dressing room.
You make your way outside, shivering slightly as the winter winds bite into your skin. The thin fabric of your garments do nothing to shield the cold.
Someone lets out a sharp inhale. You turn towards the noise. Sanji stands to your left, clutching an envelope in hand. His usual suave demeanour is displaced by an air of buzzing anxiety and a starstruck expression.
He’s dressed in a sleek three-piece black suit. It pains you how devastatingly handsome he looks.
“You clean up nice,” you note.
“I…uh. You—Sorry, yeah, what?” Sanji replies, all smooth and intelligent.
“…Pardon?”
Robin watches the entire interaction with a pained grimace. Having enough, she steps up and gently steers you towards Sanji.
“Hurry up, now. They’re expecting you both soon. Don’t forget to stay in character, lest you end up blowing your covers.” She winks at you both, but you can’t help but think it was directed more towards Sanji.
“Shall we?”
Seemingly recovered from whatever alien had possessed him seconds ago, the chef offers you his arm with a small smile. You place your hand around his bicep and try to ignore his rippling muscles underneath your fingertips.
“Color me surprised. I really thought you’d have showered me with compliments by now,” you joke.
“I thought you didn’t like that part of me.”
Disappointment blooms in your chest.
“Right. I don’t. I just…” you trail off. You just thought you looked nice tonight. And maybe a small part of you was hoping he felt the same.
“Never mind.”
You slip your hand out of the crook of Sanji’s arm and start walking a little bit faster, hoping he doesn’t notice the conflicting emotions on your face.
When Sanji first joined the crew, you made yourself a promise: that you would never fall for his charms. But as time went on and he showed you a mountain of kindness, understanding, and empathy… that promise, steadily, became much harder to keep and much easier to forget. It wasn’t his flirting and charms that were dangerous—it was the man buried underneath all that playful pretense. A man who has stubbornly found his way into your guarded heart, despite your best efforts of keeping him out.
It was always easier that way. Easier to turn away, to shut him out. Easier to walk away when you catch him with others who drew his interest and to stop listening as he murmurs sweet nothings in their ears—the very ones he had whispered to you. It was easier to accept that you are not, and will not, be special to him.
You refuse to be just another mark in his book of conquests, and if all it takes is a silent heartbreak to avoid such a fate, so be it. You’ve survived much worse before.
The palace soon comes into view, a grand structure that stretches into the vertical horizon. The path towards the marbled entrance is busy with bustling guests and the glowing orbs of rainbow fireflies. You steadily, and as elegantly as possible, make your way towards the host out in front.
“Good evening, may I see your invitations for the night?” He asks, gloved hand outstretched in expectation.
Sanji flashes him a million-berry smile. “Of course, my good sir. I have them right here.”
He pulls out the envelope you had seen earlier from inside his black suit jacket. The greeter accepts the documents and diligently scans them. After a few seconds, he nods, satisfied by what he sees, and hands the papers back to Sanji.
“Enjoy your night.” He moves aside to let you pass and holds an arm out, guiding you both through the white stone doors.
As soon as you step through the entrance , you are greeted by a foyer fit for kings. A cascading staircase blanketed by red velvet leads to even larger double doors, both white like the walls, but trimmed with gold linings and spiral handles. A crystal chandelier, bigger than you ever thought possible, hangs from the ceiling. It casts shining diamonds in every reflection of the room.
Sanji holds out his arm for you again as you both prepare to execute the mission, but you don’t immediately go to take it. Sanji must sense your hesitation because he sighs and gives you a strained, yet still affectionate smile.
“[Name], please. If not for me, then for appearances. We’re married, remember?”
“Fake married,” you correct, although you relent and slip your hand in the crook of his elbow anyway.
“You don’t have to remind me.”
Arm in arm, Sanji leads you to the ballroom. The doors open to reveal hundreds of nobles draped in silk and pearls, dining on delicacies, and mingling with others of their same social echelon. You already want to go home.
You both find a small table tucked into a corner and stand around it.
“We have to wait until Nami gives us the signal. First, let’s blend in and make sure to look like we belong,” you whisper.
Sanji leans in to hear you better. “What do you suggest? We could hit the banquet table, the food doesn’t look half bad.”
You peer over his shoulder at the platters of hor d'oeuvres and fancy desserts. “They don’t look nearly as good as what you make.”
“Was that a compliment?” Sanji grins.
“Don’t get used to it. Your heads already far too big,” you smirk.
“I don’t have that much of an ego,” he grumbles, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve.
“Hey, don’t do that.” You gently swat at his hand, admonishing him for trying to pull the string out.
“Why? It’s annoying.”
“Yeah, but you’ll ruin it even more if you just yank at it. Hold on.” You pluck a small oyster shucker from a passing waitress’s pocket, with her none the wiser. With the knife, you smoothly cut away the thread and flick it into a bin behind you.
Sanji stares at you in awe. “Did you just pickpocket the…”
“Not a word.”
“Got it.”
“Anyway, we don’t want to ruin these clothes. They’re borrowed. And so much nicer than what we’re used to.”
You pull at your collar to adjust it, only to realize Sanji is staring at you again, but with a different glint in his eyes. One with more… heat. It is only now that you realize how close you are to him—pressed up against his side, thigh-to-thigh and shoulder-to-shoulder, as you both converse away from the crowd. Sanji exudes warmth that, mixed with your own cluttered feelings, makes you a bit dizzy. You take a step back. Sanji’s gaze never leaves you.
“Did I tell you earlier how good you look?”
You swallow. “No.”
He steps closer, closing the gap again. “You look good. Really, really good.”
“Thanks. Formal clothing does wonders.” Your laugh comes out more nervous than you intended.
“Unbelievably good,” he murmurs, almost to himself—like he can’t believe what’s right in front of him.
“Sanji–”
A screeching violin note interrupts you and the strange moment you both got caught up in. Sanji snaps back to his usual self and quickly shakes his head, as if clearing away a fog.
“Food,” he coughs.
You blink. “Right. Food.”
“I’m gonna…” Sanji motions towards the buffet.
You’ve never seen him this… awkward. You’re not sure what to make of it.
“Yeah. Go ahead. I’m gonna scope out the place and figure out where the alarm is.”
He stiffly nods, then makes his way across the ballroom. You turn heel and begin walking along the corridors, scanning for anything that may resemble an alarm.
A static noise crackles in your right ear.
“Can…I—“
A sudden spike of sharp feedback makes you wince.
“Sorry! Can you hear me?” Nami’s voice pipes up.
“Yes. Comms are working. What am I looking for, Nami?”
“Something resembling a button, maybe? Look for a red button or something along those lines.”
“Understood..”
After about ten minutes of searching, you finally come upon it, a small red lever nestled in a corner behind the bar, protected by a square glass casing.
You spot Sanji across the room, mid-conversation with a beautiful, young noble. Your chest twinges, but you push the feeling away. His eyes flit to yours and you subtly wave him over, gesturing to the alarm handle.
Sanji excuses himself and briskly makes his way to you.
“You found it?”
“Of course. It’s the whole reason we’re here, remember?” You ignore the lump in your throat.
“Sorry, I got distracted. I didn’t think—”
“It’s fine, Sanji. You were having fun. You don’t have to apologize. Did you get her number at least?” You try and coolly play it off.
His eyebrows knit together. “No. No, I—”
“Anyway, we should figure out how to distract the bartender. He’s the only one who is in the way.”
If Sanji notices your blatant attempt at changing the subject, he doesn’t show it.
“Sure. Any ideas, beautiful?”
“One.”
“What’s the plan?”
You fidget with your sleeve. “He’s been eyeing me all night.”
Sanji makes a disapproving noise. “...I noticed.”
“I’ll distract him. You get the alarm,” you shrug.
Sanji’s eyes narrow. “How, exactly, are you going to do that?”
“C’mon, Sanji, you can’t be that dense. I’m going to seduce him.”
His reply is immediate and final. “No.”
You balk at his flat tone. “What do you mean: no?”
“No. As in opposite of yes. As in absolutely not,” he hisses.
“Sanji. I have t-”
“No as in not okay!”
You place a hand over his mouth in an effort to stop his outburst. “Shhh! Stop that. Are you trying to draw attention to us?!”
He pulls your arm away, undeterred by your growing panic of being found out. “If it’ll get you to reconsider, then yes!”
“Sanji, enough. What is wrong with you? Why are you so worked up?”
“Do you seriously have to ask that?” He cries out, exasperated.
You open your mouth to retort, but Nami’s voice interrupts you.
“Sorry to break up whatever dumb fight this is, but I need someone to pull the alarm in exactly 60 seconds.”
You give Sanji an expectant look. He firmly shakes his head.
“Not happening.”
Before you can stop him, the chef makes his way to the bar, stumbling as if drunk. Before you know what’s happening, Sanji pulls a whiskey bottle from behind the bar, much to the bartender's protests and dismay. He takes a large swig, and you blow out a breath of relief when he sets it down.
Then he picks it back up again. You watch in horror as he lifts the bottle up and… accidentally pours the entire thing onto the champagne tower beside him. The glasses overflow, and the weight of the extra liquid becomes too much. One by one, the glasses come tumbling down in a landslide of alcohol and crystal.
The bartender cries out in distress. Sanji is unapologetic.
You run to the alarm amidst the mess.
“Ready, [name]?”
“Whenever you are, Nami.”
She begins counting down and the moment you hear: Now!, you pull the handle.
All hell breaks loose.
Blaring alarms ring out, drowning out every other possible sound. Sprinklers sprout from the ceiling and rain down on the partygoers, soaking them and the luxury furniture. Hundreds of panicked patrons scramble to leave, directed by equally flustered staff.
You feel a tug on your sleeve. It’s Sanji.
He tries saying something but is drowned out by the chaos around you. Frustrated, he beckons you over and motions for you to follow him.
After a couple minutes of navigating through screaming nobility, you end up on a secluded balcony away from all the activity. The alarms are barely louder than bells on this end of the palace.
You take a second to catch your breath. Both of you are drenched to the bone, and the chilly winter air does nothing to help your chattering teeth.
Sanji notices your shivering form and immediately drapes his jacket over your shoulders.
You smile gratefully at him, but falter when you see the frown on his face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Take it out.”
You blink. “What?”
“The earpiece. Take it out,” he says, impatient.
“Why?”
Sanji runs a hand through his hair in both irritation and anxiousness. “Because I’m going to confess my love for you and I don’t want everyone to hear it. They’d never let me live it down, especially that green-haired freak.”
You freeze. Your thoughts freeze. Every fucking thing stops dead in it’s tracks, including your heart.
“Sanji, this isn’t funny.” Your voice trembles.
“Baby, take the earpiece out. Let me talk to you,” he asks softly.
You don’t say anything, you don’t trust yourself to. With shaking hands, you take the Den Den Mushi out and turn it off.
It is only you and Sanji now.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” you echo.
“[Name].”
God, why does he have to say your name in that way? Like it means something more than friends—like it’s worth its weight in both diamonds and gold.
“This still isn’t funny.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’m not joking,” he says, tone as serious as you’ve ever heard it.
You sigh. “What are we doing, Sanji?”
“I don’t know about you, but I’m trying to confess my undying love to my favourite person in the world. It’s scary.”
“You say that—”
“I mean it,” he interjects.
“What makes me different? What makes me…”
Worthy of your love?
Sanji reaches for you, but stops himself at your expression. You continue questioning his words.
“How do I know this isn’t just some temporary thing? A fleeting crush?” You swallow hard. For some reason, you’re unable to meet his steady gaze. “How do I know this is real?”
He rubs the back of his neck, conflicting emotions flickering across his face. Sanji struggles to find the words needed to convince you. He tries his best, anyway.
“I know what my reputation is like. I know the personality I present to the world. But after I met you, none of it seemed worth it anymore. There was no appeal to living that type of life,” he pauses. Sanji lifts his head and stares straight at you, unwavering in his words. “The moment I saw you, I thought I’d die if I couldn’t be yours. I still think that now.”
Oh. Your chest is trying to kill you. That’s the only explanation for the ache you feel.
“I trust you with my life, Sanji. But not my heart.”
The alarms have stopped by now. Soon, people will come trickling back inside and the mission will be over. This moment in time will soon fade into the background of reality.
“I only ask that you give me a chance.”
“What makes you so sure that you’re the kind of guy I want to be with?”
“As opposed to your exes? Those guys—none of them deserved you,” he scoffs, annoyed at the mere mention of them.
You raise a brow. “Do you?”
“No. Of course not,” he answers. “But I want to try. Please, god, let me try.”
Your hands are still shaking, but not from the cold.
“We should get back to the ship,” you say, a strained smile on your face.
Sanji’s face falls at your deflection, but he accepts it and doesn’t push. He nods, and you both make your way back to the Merry, an uncomfortable silence hanging over you like a wet blanket.
You are only a couple hundred meters out from the ship when you stop abruptly. Sanji almost crashes into you, but steadies himself at the last second.
“Is something wrong?” He asks in concern.
Before you can lose your nerve, you whirl around and utter two words: “One date.”
It takes Sanji a few moments to understand what you just said, but when he does, he lights up like a kid on Christmas Eve. One who just met Santa. The sheer joy on his face makes it all worth it.
“You’re not messing with me, right? Please say no,” he shakily pleads.
You shake your head. “One. Make it count.”
Instead of answering, he throws his arms around you, wrapping you in his warm embrace.
You loop your arms around his neck and he melts into you, never wanting to let go.
“I’ll make you say yes to a second one. And then a third. And then a lifetime of dates after that. I swear it on my honour as a chef.”
“It’ll have to be a pretty damn good date then,” you laugh.
Sanji presses his forehead on yours.
“It’ll be the best date.”
“And how do you know that?” You tease.
“Because you will be there.”
—
˚ · . tags: @zjarrmiii @aiizenn @emyyy007
#x reader#one piece#op#one piece live action#opla#vinsmoke sanji#sanji#sanji x reader#sanji x you#luffy#monkey d. luffy#roronoa zoro#zoro#nami#usopp#nico robin#chopper#one piece x reader#one piece fic#one piece fanfiction
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