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teapartyprincess4two · 2 months

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Can you make a Latina reader x Matt sturniolo smut? You can make it up how you want it

Lipstick- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Thick!Latina!reader x Boyfriend!Matt

classification: fluff, smut

inspiration: request^^

translations: embedded within the story!

warnings: 18+, MDNI, literal sex, use of Spanish, Hispanic/ Latino culture mentioned, established relationship, slight cursing, traditional parents, mentions of alcohol, didn’t name any of the side characters, long

summary: Matt’s nervous to meet your family, but after making a good impression you treat him to a night full of kisses and lipstick stains.

—

Matt sits in the living room, nervous hands playing with the keys that hang from his belt loop. Your mother keeps him company, sitting on the sofa across from him as she asks him a plethora of personal and uncomfortable questions. Latina mothers are unashamed to prod into the personal life of others, especially when meeting their daughter’s boyfriend for the first time.

You’ve only been dating Matt for a couple of months, and although he seems like a nice kid, she’s not entirely sure she can trust your judgment just yet. The few boys you’ve brought home before haven’t always necessarily met her high standards. Matt hasn’t done anything to throw her off yet, but she’s sure she’ll find something to dislike. If he manages to stick around long enough, though, he’d surely grow on her.

“So what do you do for work?” your mom asks, momentarily looking up from her latest costura project to catch Matt’s anxious gaze. She expertly weaves the string in and out of the white lace, forming an intricate floral design in the process.

[translation: costura- sewing]

“Oh um… my brothers and I we make YouTube videos,” Matt doesn’t know where to look, he’s afraid to make eye contact but also afraid that if he doesn’t it’ll come off as disrespectful. He’s never been so nervous in his life, and from the look on your mother’s face he can tell that that’s probably not what she wanted to hear.

Your mother scoffs, obviously unimpressed with his answer. “Esta niña, siempre saliendo con los más huevones,” she turns her head towards the stairs. Matt’s been waiting for you to descend for over 30 minutes, and the awkward tension was even becoming too much for her.

[translation: “This girl, always going out with the laziest ones.”]

Matt coughs, taking a quick swig of the water bottle in front of him. He’s nervous, his hands are clammy and he has no idea what your mom just said. What was taking you so long?

“So is YouTube gonna pay the bills?” your mom was abrasive and she knew it, but she couldn’t help it. In her eyes, nobody was worthy enough of her babygirl. Matt remains silent, he doesn’t even know what to say, so she continues, “You know, when you two start having kids.”

The thought of having children at 20 years old terrifies Matt beyond belief, he can feel his hands getting clammier by the second. He understands that it’s a cultural dissonance, though, so he keeps his mouth shut. “We’re not planning on any kids soon, ma’am. We haven’t— Um, we haven’t really talked about it,” his voice trembles slightly, your mom was doing a good job of intimidating him.

Matt takes another swig of his water, his mouth was dry and he felt like his throat was closing up. “Oh, but you’re having sex with my daughter right?” the question is so unapologetically bold that it causes Matt to choke on the liquid, some of it managing to dribble down his chin.

“I’m sorry?” he chokes out, but he heard your mom loud and clear.

Finally, as if on queue, Matt hears footsteps coming down the steps. ‘Finally!’ he thinks, watching as your curvy figure rounds the staircase and enters the living room. Matt shoots up from his spot on the couch, his eyes immediately dancing over your entire body.

You’re wearing a fitted, black bodycon dress that reaches just above your knees. The spaghetti straps work to hold your bust in place, a gold necklace dangling delicately above the curves of your breasts. You push your freshly curled hair onto your shoulders, luscious locks framing your face perfectly. White lace-up sneakers adorn your feet, your ankle bracelet glimmering as you walk into the living room.

Matt can’t keep his eyes off of, every aspect of your being pulling him in and putting him in a trance. Your mom notices Matt’s inability to hide his attraction for you, “her eyes are up here!” His face goes beet red, eyes immediately darting up to your face.

You roll your eyes before sending Matt an apologetic smile, “Ya nos vamos, Ma.”

[translation: “We’re leaving, Ma.”]

“Bueno, mi niña. Pórtate bien,” she warns, bringing you in for a strong, warm embrace. Your mom’s change in behavior is so quick it gives Matt whiplash, but he can’t blame her for being standoffish with him. He understands that it’s her mother bear nature.

[translation: “Okay, babygirl. Be good.”]

You kiss your mom on the cheek, your red lipstick staining her face. You turn to Matt with a big, toothy smile sprawled onto your face. “You ready?” you ask, taking his hand in yours as you guide him outside. He nods and hums in response, squeezing your hand as he trails behind you in a lovesick daze. Your ass jiggles with each step and Matt wonders how he ever got so lucky.

“Sorry for taking so long,” you apologize once you’re in the car, getting situated in the passenger seat. “No problem. You look really beautiful,” he replies, starting the car and doing another once over on your body. You lean over the center console with puckered lips, “kiss?” He happily obliges, your red lipstick instantly transferring onto him. His pants are becoming tighter by the second and you notice it right away. Your relationship is still in its infancy, so even this has you blushing.

“Was my mom nice?”

“Mm yeah, some like that,” he replies with a chuckle, adjusting his pants and beginning the drive to your destination. You know he’s lying, but you’re grateful that he’s courteous enough to put up with your mom’s attitude.

“Just wait till you meet my dad and my siblings. They’re not as bad,” you say, the hum of the car engine and the low music in the background creating a calm atmosphere.

“Can’t wait,” he laughs, and although he’s nervous for when that day finally comes, he’s actually excited to become a constant presence in your life. It might be too early to say it, but he’s definitely falling in love with you, the tent in his pants making it obvious as ever.

—

A year has passed since that day and, as expected, your mom has warmed up to Matt. They aren’t super close yet, but she definitely sees him in a different light. She can tell that he truly cares for you and that what you two share is real, but the real test comes when Matt meets your dad.

Your dad works a lot, the manual labor taking a toll on his body that puts him to sleep as soon as he gets home. So, even if your dad is home when Matt’s around, he’s usually asleep or resting in his room.

Matt was nervous when he met your mom, but he’s TERRIFIED to meet your dad. There are so many factors to take into consideration; the language barrier, the cultural dissonance, the fact that he’s your literal dad! It doesn’t help that your siblings are gonna be there too, all of it makes Matt tremble with unease. But he’s been invited to your family’s cookout so he can no longer postpone it.

It’s a sunny Saturday afternoon. The weather is nice, it’s not too cold or too hot. It’s the perfect day for a cookout, and Matt should feel excited, but he doesn’t. Sweaty hands grip the steering wheel as he anxiously drives to your house. Chris and Nick are being dragged along as moral support, but unlike Matt, they’re not nervous.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have brought you guys. I don’t even think they know I’m a triplet,” Matt’s words are coming out a mile a minute as he places the car in park outside your house. The panic is starting to set, and from the looks of it they’re the first ones here. Usually being on time would make Matt proud, but this just means there will be less people to hide behind.

“Dude, it’s gonna be fine. Plus, maybe Y/n has a cute cousin or something and we can be like brother in laws,” Chris is only half-joking. “Gross,” Nick grimaces, hopping off the car and beginning the short walk to your front door. Chris laughs, copying Nick’s actions and following closely behind.

That just leaves Matt. He’s glued to the front seat, mind racing uncontrollably. If he’s going to do this, it needs to be quick and painless or he’ll just psych himself out. He takes one deep breath in and out, unbuckling himself with such fervor that the seatbelt slaps the door. Once he steps out of the car, he takes a second to anchor himself before jogging to catch up to his brothers, who are already ringing your doorbell.

Three minutes pass and no one has opened the door, so Nick rings the doorbell again. “Allí voy, allí voy!” a voice shouts from inside, the door swinging open aggressively to reveal your little sister.

[translation: “I’m going, I’m going!”]

“Oh it’s just you,” she deadpans, moving aside so they can walk in. She slams the door shut, pushing past the stunned trio until she’s at the foot of the stairs. “Y/n’s upstairs,” she says, waving towards the staircase haphazardly.

“Y/N! YOUR BOYFRIENDS ARE HERE!” she shouts up the stairs, the loud outburst taking the triplets by surprise.

Your sister is a good 4 years younger and the complete opposite of you. She’s a thin tomboy, wearing an outfit so oversized that she’s drowning in fabric. Her style directly resembles Chris’s, chunky sneakers adorning her feet and a backwards hat resting atop her long, curly hair. A long gold chain that she stole from your older brother hangs from her neck, swaying back and forth as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. Her makeup is nicely done and her glossy lips are resting in a smirk, she loved embarrassing you.

“Stop yelling, pendeja!” you shout back, head peering from your doorway. Your sister shoots you an unbothered shrug, turning on her heels and disappearing into the backyard. You descend the stairs, immediately hugging Matt and planting a fat kiss on his lips. Within seconds his lips are the same color as yours, your cherry lipgloss tasting all too familiar.

[translation: pendeja- dumbass (feminine)]

“You guys are early,” you chuckle, pulling away from Matt to greet the other two. “You can blame Matt for that,” Nick says, the four of you walking outside to the backyard patio. The setup is simple but nice, rows of foldable chairs and tables lining the grassy lawn. Coolers are up against the walls of the house, each one filled to the brim with soda, juice pouches, and alcohol.

As Matt is surveying the area, he sees your dad, or at least he thinks he does. A tall, muscular man is working the grill. His shiny, bald head reflects the sun and his tattoos are on full display past the sleeves of his ribbed cotton tank top.

Matt grabs your hand, pulling you back slightly, “Is that your dad?” His voice is hushed, afraid to be heard accidentally.

You follow his gaze, “What? No. That’s my brother.”

An audible sigh of relief escapes Matt, and you instantly clock it, “Don’t worry, babe. Everyone’s gonna love you.” The reassuring words momentarily calm his nerves.

Your older brother’s boisterous voice breaks the moment, “Y/n, go get the rest of the carne from the kitchen!” He’s pinching carne asada, elote, and cebolla off of the grill with long metal tongs, stacking it neatly on a metal tray.

[translation: carne- meat, carne asada- grilled meat, elote- corn, cebolla- onion]

Chris is the first to approach your brother, his friendly nature making it easy for him to talk to new people,“Dude, that smells good!”

Your brother is very kind, his scary appearance completely juxtaposing his hospitable personality. He’s wearing baggy jean shorts and black air forces with a matching gold chain and bracelet. The black sunglasses that rest on his face make him look unapproachable, but the warm smile he offers Nick and Chris makes up for it.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” you quickly peck Matt’s cheek, once again staining his face with your lipstick. Matt hums in response, joining the rest of the men around the grill.

“I feel like I’m seeing triple. I didn’t even know there was three of y’all,” your brother jokes, offering them each a firm handshake. Even though they’ve heard the joke millions of times before the triplets laugh.

“Yeah, we get that a lot,” Nick laughs.

“Bet you do. Which of you is dating my sister, though?” your brother asks, but he knows the answer; the red kiss on Matt’s cheek is a dead giveaway.

“That would be this lucky guy,” Nick replies, shaking Matt’s shoulders playfully. Matt’s cheeks burn a bright red and he can’t stop himself from smiling, he truly was lucky. “If the red lipstick on his face doesn’t tell you, then his smile surely will,” Chris chimes in, his finger smudging the makeup on Matt’s face.

Your brother laughs, “Yeah you might wanna wipe that off before el jefe gets back.”

[translation: el jefe- the boss (masculine, a nickname commonly used when referencing one’s father)]

“Oh shit,” Matt mutters, scrambling for a nearby napkin and rubbing it along his face feverishly.

—

An hour has passed and no one else has arrived yet, I guess the triplets didn’t get the memo that Hispanics are almost always fashionably late. Your brother is still working the grill, immersed in an entertaining conversation with Nick about God knows what. Chris, on the other hand, is playing soccer with your sister. He keeps either kicking the ball over the fence or missing it completely, his clumsy actions make your sister laugh uncontrollably.

You sit with Matt at one of the many tables, hands intertwined as you both anxiously await your parents arrival. “He should be back by now,” you mumble, a restless leg bouncing up and down. You knew Matt would make a good first impression on your dad, but you were still nervous.

It’s almost like you summoned him, the familiar sound of your dad’s pickup truck ringing in your ears as he pulls into the driveway. “Is that him?” Matt asks, grip tightening on your palms. “Yeah that’s him. Don’t be nervous, my dad is nice,” you reply, but you’re equally as anxious.

Your dad’s first words do nothing to help your case, you’re just glad Matt can’t understand them, “Vengan a ayudar, huevones!”

[translation: “Come help, lazies!”]

“Lemme go help, you stay here. Okay?”

“No, I’m coming with you.”

“Actually yeah, good idea.”

Matt follows you to the front yard, he’s so beyond nervous that his hands are practically dripping with sweat. Your dad senses Matt’s presence immediately, “Y este pinche güey que?”

[translation: “Who’s this fucking guy?”]

“Pa! No seas feo!” you exclaim, but your dad just rolls his eyes and silently instructs you to unload the truck. He bought more alcohol for the party, because when you’re Hispanic you can never have enough.

[translation: “Pa! Don’t be ugly!”]

“Es tu novio o que?” your dad asks, grunting as he picks up two cases of beer. He rests them on his shoulders with ease, he’s so strong that it intimidates Matt. “Yes, dad. He’s my boyfriend,” you reply, playfully rolling your eyes.

[translation: “Is he your boyfriend or what?”]

Your dad, much like your brother, is also bald. The greatest differences between the two men are the wrinkles that crease near your dad’s eyes when he smiles, his long bushy beard, and his protruding beer belly. “Nice to meet you,” your dad finally directs his attention towards Matt, offering him a genuine smile as his thick accent butchers the words.

“Nice to meet you too, sir,” Matt replies, picking up a case of alcohol as to make himself useful. Your dad can tell that Matt’s nervous, and even though he doesn’t like the idea of you dating, he decides to take it easy on him. He’s heard stories about Matt from your mom and by the way you look at him, your dad knows he’s the one.

As your dad enters the backyard, absolutely shocked to see Chris and Nick. Never in his life has he met a twin, let alone triplets, “Ay güey! Hay tres? No chingues, creo que me mareé.” Everyone, except for the triplets who have no idea what’s going on, laughs at your dad’s statement.

[translation: “Oh shit! There’s three? Fuck, I think I just got dizzy.”]

“I think he likes you,” you shrug, a sly smile playing on your face. Matt suddenly feels confident, all the nerves washing away.

—

As the hours pass, the party becomes less innocent as everyone becomes more and more inebriated. Matt’s chatting with some of your uncles and cousins, a cold beer resting in his hands. He’s been nursing the same bottle all night, only sipping from it occasionally.

You’re on the opposite end of the lawn, sitting at a table with your chismosa cousin. “Your man is so handsome, prima. If you find another one like that, send him my way.”

[translation: chismosa- gossiper (feminine), prima- cousin (feminine)]

“He does have a brother,” you joke, eyes still trained on Matt. You needed to get him alone in the house, away from prying eyes.

You could think of so many actual reasons you needed him right now, though. First, he was being such a gentleman with your family. He introduced himself and made small talk despite the evident language barrier. Secondly, when you served him a plate, he finished it faster than you’ve ever seen him eat anything. Then, when he got up for seconds, he moaned as the delicious flavors melted in his mouth.

Everyone loved him, and for whatever reason that turned you on. The longer you looked at him, the wetter you became. You’re clenching your thighs together, the sheer thought of him making you squirm. Before you know it, you’re excusing yourself from your cousin and walking up to Matt with a random excuse as to why you need him inside.

“Hey is everything okay?” Matt whispers, hands resting on your hips. His head is crooked down towards you, lips capturing yours briefly before resting his forehead against yours. “Yeah, just missed you,” your breathy words fan his lips as you place a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth and travel them down his neck.

Although he welcomes the feeling, you’re both standing in the kitchen and if anyone were to walk in they’d catch the intimate moment. That’s the last thing he wanted, especially not after making a good first impression, “not here, baby.”

You pout, completely retracting yourself from Matt, “okay.”

“No, wait. I said not here,” he pulls you back in as he looks around the house in search of another secluded area, not wanting to completely abandon your touch.

“Then where?” your voice is sultry and inviting.

“Outside?” it’s the first thing that comes to Matt’s mind, and the suggestion breaks you from the mood.

“Outside, Matt? Really? Like what, like a dog?” you have a dumbfounded look on your face, almost like you can’t believe he even suggested it.

“No, like, in my car,” he dangles the keys in front of your face before pulling you back in for a heated kiss.

The kiss seems to convince you because he’s successfully leading you to his car. The street is dark, only illuminated by a few street lamps, but you find it with ease.

You fumble into the backseat, Matt following behind you giddily. “We have to be quick, okay?” you whisper, pulling Matt in for another kiss by the collar.

“You know I like taking my time with my girl,” you can hear the smirk in his voice, a playful scoff falling from your lips. You scoot further into the back seat, making room for Matt as he situates himself between your legs.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you look today?” he brushes a stray curl away from your face, a gentle hand caressing your cheek. “Hmm yes, but I could hear it again,” you turn your face, kissing his palm.

“You look beautiful today,” he murmurs, leaning in for a kiss. You mould into each other, your lips fitting perfectly against his. Matt grinds himself down on you, momentarily breaking from you long enough for you to feather kisses along his neck.

With each kiss comes an affirmation, “I’m. So. Proud. Of. You.” It’s too dark to see, but you’re leaving lipstick marks all over him. The praises send blood rushing to his dick as you continue, “You did so good, papi. Just like I knew you would.”

[translation: papi- daddy (bear with me ppl)]

“Yeah? How good?” he eggs you on, relishing in all your sweet words. His hands push your dress up, the fabric scrunching up around your hips to reveal the red lace panties you wore underneath. Matt swears he’s in heaven.

“You did perfect…” your words trail off as you watch Matt remove your underwear in a daze. “How about you show me how good I did?” he grabs your waist, flipping you both over so you’re on top. You let out an excited squeal, your bare cunt coming in contact with his rough denim jeans. His dick is straining against the fabric, begging for release.

You grind onto his clothed penis, one hand resting on his chest as the other pushes your hair out of your face. Matt’s hands instinctively find your hips, a firm grip guiding your swiveling motions.

“Tell me how you want me, baby.”

“Ride me?”

As soon as he says it, you’re wiggling down onto his thighs and unbuckling his pants. Your fingers dance along his erection, teasingly tracing it. Matt bites his lip at the sight, “Please don’t tease.”

“So polite,” you giggle, finally tugging his pants down. His dick slaps against his stomach, the swollen tip already dripping with precum. Your thumb runs across the tip, spreading the lubrication along his shaft.

Matt’s a whimpering mess, propped onto his elbows to get a better view of you. When his hips subconsciously buck into your hand you decide to stop teasing and situate yourself above his crotch, dragging his penis along your wet folds before positioning it right at your entrance.

You’re going so slow, too slow, so Matt decides to take matters into his own hands. He grabs handfuls of your ass, pushing you down onto his dick with force. “Matt!” you gasp, the delicious stretch sending you into overdrive.

He doesn’t respond, instead he pushes and pulls your hips so that you’re bouncing on his cock. Your breasts are jiggling rhythmically, threatening to spill out of your dress. Animalistic grunts fill the car as Matt watches your pussy wrap around him, his jaw is slack and his eyebrows are furrowed in pleasure. Your soft whimpers and moans motivate him to keep going.

“You like that?” The car is rocking with the intensity of your movements, windows becoming foggier and foggier with each breathy moan that escapes your lips.

“Yes!” your voice is high pitched and squeaky, the pleasure choking you up. “Use your words, pretty girl,” he grunts, feeling the familiar wave of pleasure approaching.

“It’s so good, papi. So, so, so good,” you babble, struggling to formulate coherent sentences. Your pussy is fluttering around him, the sensation bringing Matt closer to his breaking point.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum,” he whimpers, large hands squeezing the skin around your hips so hard that it was sure to bruise. You place loving kisses all over his face, especially on his cheeks and the corners of his mouth.

“I love you,” you moan, chanting his name again and again right after. He’s thrusting up into you feverishly, his pace faltering slightly as you both near your climax. “I love you too, princess. So much,” his voice is strained, strong arms wrapping around your waist and holding you in place as he shoots his warm load into you. His affirmations send you into a state of euphoria as your orgasm washes over you.

He’s peppering kissing all over your chest, whimpers escaping his lips as he comes down from his high. You delicately push his hair off of his sweaty forehead, admiring him as he continues his gentle attack on your chest.

“We should probably get back, babe. They’ll be wondering where we are,” you whisper, but he doesn’t want to let go. He wants to stay like this with you forever.

“Let me enjoy this a little longer,” he murmurs, hooded eyes finally looking up at you. Your lipstick is smudged all over your mouth. “Aww baby, your lipstick is all messed up. You look so cute,” he laughs, attempting to wipe some it off but failing.

He shifts slightly, the streetlights briefly managing to illuminate his handsome face. Your kiss marks are all over, a clear visual representation of how much you love him.

“You’re wearing more of it than I am,” you joke, earning yourself a playful slap on the ass.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n: clearly I couldn’t just write a smut right? Lmaoooo idk I had all the characters in my brain & it couldn’t just be smut 😭 hope u enjoy

This is so different from anything I’ve written before so lmk how yall like it & if you enjoy having Spanish in stories w/ the translations in the story💃🏻 also don’t kill me for using papi, i’d gladly call my man papi any day 😋

-L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii @fawned01 @junnniiieee07 @sturniolololover @missriddle03

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

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xensilverquill · 10 months

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Amigurumi/Crochet Toy 101 + Resources

Noticed a couple folks in my tags mentioning that they wanted to learn or wished they knew how to crochet amigurumi. So here's a quick and dirty little how-to guide with resources I threw together? Hope it helps!

Tools + Materials

Crochet is one of those hobbies that is actually relatively cheap to get into. Here is a basic list of what you'll need to get started. You can find most of these at any craft store or even Walmart.

(1) Yarn (Required)

Yarns come in a variety of weights (sizes) and fibers. I recommend a soft, worsted weight acrylic yarn (indicated by a number "4" and "medium" on the yarn label) for your first few projects.

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(2) Crochet Hook (Required)

These come in a lot of sizes and styles, and what size you'll use will depend on your yarn weight and how tight you want your stitches to be. I'd recommend buying just one hook to start with rather than a larger set. Metal hooks with ergonomic rubber handles are easiest for beginners (and on your wrists longterm, lol). A 5.0 MM/Size H or a 4.50 MM/Size G works best for making amigurumi with worsted weight yarn.

(3) Polyfil/Stuffing (Required)

For stuffing your project.

(4) Yarn Needle (Required)

Most crochet projects require sewing to one degree or another. Yarn needles are distinguished from regular sewing needles by their larger size, larger eye, and blunter tip. Yarn needles may be straight, or they may be angled at the tip (i.e. a darning yarn needle).

(5) Scissors (Required)

Any sharp, medium-sized pair of scissors will do for cutting your yarn.

(6) Sewing Pins (Recommended)

For holding parts in place as you sew them on.

(7) Stitch Marker (Recommended)

Many amigurumi projects are worked in rows of continuous rounds, and stitch markers can be used to mark the beginning or end of these rounds. They can also be used to mark areas of interest in your project or to secure your project to keep it from becoming accidentally unraveled. I strongly reccomend getting split ring ones. Scrap pieces of yarn also work in a pinch as stitch markers.

(8) Counter (Recommended)

For keeping track of your rows as you work a pattern.

(9) Safety Eyes (Recommended)

Most amigurumi will require eyes of some sort. Safety eyes (you can find these in various sizes in the doll section of any craft store) will give your project a polished look, but you can also use buttons, felt, or even embroider the eye details on your amigurumi.

(10) Stuffing Stick (Recommended)

For getting your stuffing into hard-to-reach spots. A chopstick or wooden skewer works very well for this.

Basic Crochet Stitches + Amigurumi Techniques

Most crochet patterns are built from a few basic stitches. Before attempting any larger project, I recommend getting comfortable with these stitches by making a few small, flat pot holders out of each basic stitch. A lot of crochet is pure muscle memory and practice, and this is a great way to start.

There are also a few techniques specific to making amirugumi that will be helpful for you to know. You can find any number of free videos/tutorials online. Below are links to a few videos that I found helpful when I was learning to crochet.

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How to Make a Slip Knot

Single Crochet (+ Starting Chain and How to Count Stitches)

Half Double Crochet

Double Crochet

Triple Crochet

How to Keep Starting Chain from Twisting

Magic Ring

Ultimate Finish

Invisible Finish

Invisible Decrease

Beginner Amigurumi Patterns

These were the first three patterns I learned in the process of teaching myself how to make amigurumi. I recommend working them in the order they are listed. The first two links have step-by-step instructional videos and will help ease you into learning to read amigurumi patterns. All of these patterns are free, and there are many more free patterns out there as well. Have fun!

Amigurumi Ball

Amigurumi Whale

Amigurumi Stegosaurus

#crochet #crochetblr #amigurumi #tutorial #reference

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haxkattpress · 16 days

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Away Childish Things by @letteredlettered

I'm so excited to finally share this bind of one of my all time favorite fics! Thanks to lettered's generous binding policy, I decided to go all out.

This bind has a foiled cover and spine, hand sewn silk endbands, and thirteen custom chapter headers. It was also my first time rounding and backing.

You can find more pictures and information about my process under the cut.

For the cover and spine, I recreated the design of Beasts of the Field (1902) by William J. Long.

I wanted something that captured both the whimsy and maturity of the story, and this cover fit my vision perfectly. It also gave me the opportunity to recreate another antique cover from the public domain.

Unfortunately, the design was a bit complicated for my Cameo 4, so I was unable to fill the lines in. You can also tell that the foil did not adhere properly near the bottom, so the flowers are lighter than I would like them to be.

Because of the trouble I was having with my Cameo, I decided to foil the spine by hand. I deeply regretted this decision two hours later, and it took me four hours to finish foiling. My wrist still hurts!

Sewing the headbands was my absolute favorite part. I was encouraged to try them by a lovely binder on Instagram, and I ended up completely addicted. I splurged on some fancy silk thread so I could give this fic the royal treatment it deserves! I think they look like beautiful little caterpillars.

As for the rounding and backing... I'm not going to talk about it. Nightmare. Lots of nervous sweating. Emotional agony. Next topic!

I worked on the typeset back at the beginning of January when I had some time off, and it took me a solid week of obsessive editing to complete. My sister suggested that I use Harry and Draco's patronuses for the chapter art, but there unfortunately aren't many public domain illustrations of deer and foxes playing together.

It was at that point that I also decided that I wanted the animals to match the respective ages of Harry and Draco and the tone of each chapter. For the 13 chapters I ended up editing 25 different illustrations together. The bulk of these are taken from vintage versions of Bambi and Reynard the Fox. It's possible that a few stock images from 1980s nature books snuck in there, but I did my best to keep them all pre 1925.

I'm not a skilled editor, and some of these are worse than others, but I'm quite proud of what I was able to cobble together. On the final page I put a young fox and deer running off together. I wanted it to seem like Harry and Draco's inner children had been freed.

I'm a bit embarrassed to say that this bind took me about 4-5 months to complete! I started in early January, and went wildly off track learning how to round, back, and sew headbands. And then I was hit by some killer creative block that only lifted last week!

There are still many things I could improve on, but I'm so proud of everything that I learned and accomplished with this bind! A big thank you to lettered for inspiring me with such a wonderful story. <3

#book binding #fic binding #fanbinding #fanfic binding #drarry #away childish things #harry x draco #my binds

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armory-rasa · 3 months

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COUCH POUCH!! Free Pattern & Tutorial

...called thus because they use upholstery-weight leather for the bag body, that in my case was in fact skinned off a couch. 🤣 Turns out they are relatively quick and easy to make, so I tidied up the pattern for printing and took pictures to document the process when I made another five of them.

First off, print your pattern, 100% scale:

The bag shape was a modified version of the pattern I used for the Morpheus sandbag, but sized to fit in the roughly 11" squares that my couch skin came in. It makes a bag that sits very well on a tabletop, thanks to the flat base.

Though it turned out to not be the most efficient use of material, because that plus-shaped pattern tessellates well, if you're cutting them out of a full hide, but makes a lot of waste when you're cutting them out of squares of material. A more efficient design would have a half-rounded front and back, and a gusset between them, like so:

Ah well. It's not like I have any shortage of couch skin, though for the next round I'm going to experiment with a more efficient pattern.

First step, trace and cut out the bag body from your chrome-tan leather:

Like I said, this was upholstery leather, but anything that's flexible and ~1.5 mm thick will do.

The flap and front need to be a stiffer leather though -- I used 7 oz latigo, but veg-tan would work equally well. (And then you could ✨tool it!✨)

Cut them out, and then use the pattern to mark where your holes are going to be. Mark the holes on your bag body too:

The latigo pieces get hand-stitched to the bag body, so I used a stitching groover to carve out little channels for the thread -- it's not strictly necessary, but it makes your stitches lay a lot more neatly:

Punch the holes shown below:

I used a ~5 mm hole punch for those, and a 1.5" slot punch for the belt loops. Some of the holes on the front piece you're not punching yet, because they need to go through both layers.

I put a dab of contact cement on the pieces (circled in white) to help hold them in place when I go to punch the stitching holes:

(Make sure you're not putting glue between the belt loops)

Wait fifteen minutes for the contact cement to dry until tacky, and then line up the holes and the edges and press the pieces together:

Punch stitching holes:

Saddle-stitch both pieces in place (takes 28" of thread per):

Now you can punch these holes:

(I used a slightly smaller hole punch than for the others, but it doesn't really matter.)

Now press the right sides of the leather together and sew up the seams from the inside:

A regular sewing machine should be able to handle this, though you will need thicker thread, a heavy-duty leather-sewing needle, and a walking foot attachment. (If you don't have a walking foot attachment, it is SO WORTH getting one, even if you don't expect to sew much leather. Seriously, I use it for everything -- once you go walking foot, you don't go back. 💀) Because you can't pin leather without leaving permanent holes in it, tiny binder clips can be helpful for keeping your material lined up.

What they look like when you're finished sewing:

Cut 19" of lacing for the drawstring, and 11" of lacing for the toggle:

I use the 1/8" EcoSoft lace from Tandy, I think it's stronger than real leather would be at that thickness. The only important factor here is that you need something with a bit of texture and friction -- a silk cord isn't going to stay closed, it's going to slip open.

MANY BAGS.

For these I used a wooden toggle -- cut another 8" of lacing, looped it through the toggle twice, and then made a tight square knot on the back:

But another option is putting a concho or a large button on the flap. The bag I copied this design from, in fact, uses a concho toggle:

Thread some beads on the laces to keep the ends from getting lost, and you are DONE! 😁

Happy Bagging!

#instructional #tutorial #couch pouches #liveblogging projects #leatherworking

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tj-crochets · 9 months

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Crafting update: halfway done with the rainbow triangle quilt top!

I also got the fabric ironed for the next baby blanket I’m making and got another row sewn for the rainbow blanket, but it needs another round of ironing before I add it

#sewing #handmade #sewing wip #quilting wip #rainbow triangles quilt take two #currently I am taking a break but then I think I’ll cut the fabric to size for the baby blanket #and do another round of ironing #the ironing never ends lol #once I sew at least the first seams for the next baby blanket #I think it’ll be manta ray time?#but I want to get another baby blanket sewn and at least one more row done for the rainbow quilt #it’s already taken so long to make

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gators-aid · 4 months

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decode (pt. 1) - toji f. x reader

masterlist | part two.

previously titled: leave us

you and toji fushiguro have been in an on-again-off-again relationship all throughout high school. over the summer break after graduation, you find out you're pregnant. too bad toji has already skipped town after your last breakup.

tags: fem!reader, childbirth (not explicit), cheating, gun violence, mention of domestic abuse (not between toji & reader), teen pregnancy (reader and toji are both 18-19 range), mentions of abortion, mentioned that toji sold drugs, americanized setting, non sorcerer universe, 00's setting, reader is megumi's mom, toji initially denies megumi is his, i aged up gojo, geto, and shoko so you can have some frens, exes to lovers (eventually), their relationship is toxic rn, not beta read we die like toji :(

wc: 2.3k

You knew your chances of making it out of this town were slim, but in the back of your mind you had always hoped that you would be one of the lucky few. Finally, you had made it to high school graduation without dropping out or being shot, but you did not make it out unscathed.

Pregnant.

You didn’t find out until the summer after graduation, when you were still working out financial aid and payment plans with the money you had saved up working at a local diner for the past three years. Toji had already skipped town by then. It stung a little. Learning from his older brother that he had packed up in the middle of the night and left without so much as a goodbye was almost worse. Even though you broke up weeks before graduation, of course he had to throw in one more wrench in your life while he could.

It didn’t truly sink in until you told your mother. Your mother, who was so excited for you to get out of this town since she couldn’t. Who vowed to help you out with tuition payments to get you through school. It wasn’t until you saw her disappointed face that you became angry. Not only at Toji, but at yourself.

She had always warned you about Toji. How he was good for nothing, bad news, just a bomb waiting to go off. You, maybe too young, maybe blinded by love, brushed off her concerns. When he had to go to juvie for a couple months for an assault charge, you stuck by him until he got out. Filling his commissary account with the measly tips you earned from work when his family wouldn’t. Visiting him at every possible opportunity, even though the bus ride to the detention center was a three hour round trip. When he was shot in the shoulder and came to your window bleeding in the middle of the night, and you had awoken her, terrified to death that your boyfriend would bleed out in your bed. He refused to go to a hospital, meaning you and your mom had to stitch him up with rudimentary sewing skills. When he left a couple days later, you had sobbed into the bloody sheets your mom was helping you throw out. When you and Toji broke up for the first of many times, you had cried into her shirt for days on end. You ignored it all, and came crawling back to him every time.

The first time was because he had cheated on you with a girl in the class above you two. She was older, more confident, more experienced. You had to find out through word of mouth when a friend of a friend had seen them making out at a party you had to ditch for work. At that point, you two had only been together for a couple of months. Probably a bad omen and a warning for how the rest of this relationship would go. You cheated on him with one of his (now ex) best friends to get back at him. You were both young and were each other’s first everything. You had no idea how to navigate a relationship’s complexities, especially one as serious and tumultuous as the one you two had. It only took a bouquet of roses and an apology to get you to come back (in addition to that one dude getting his ass beat).

There was another time when you two had gotten into an argument over his attitude that escalated into a breakup. It was triggered when he had smart mouthed you about a simple comment you made, to which you threw his cheating in his face and you two began to insult each other for the rest of the night. When you arrived home two hours after curfew that night, your mother just held you until you stopped crying.

Your final breakup, the one before graduation, was simply because you were terrified for him. He was selling drugs, and you could see him looking over his shoulder every time you two went out in public. You gave him an ultimatum, and clearly he hadn’t chosen you. He was in too deep, and you didn’t want to have him showing up shot at your house again. Or worse.

You should have listened to your mother. It was all too much for high school kids. He could bring out the worst in you, but you figured that's just how it was here. You couldn’t count how many of your best friends had abusive boyfriends, abusive parents, lost loved ones to gun violence or something worse. Toji had never laid a hand on you, had never even threatened too, so at the time you thought you had it pretty good.

But Toji wasn’t all bad. He had his flaws, had done some fucked up shit, but you had never felt more safe in your life than when you were with Toji. He wasn’t affectionate in public, but in private, his favorite thing in the world to do was caress your hair until you both fell asleep. He loved to sneak into your bedroom window after your mom went to sleep just to hold you until you drifted off. When you’d pull doubles almost every weekend at the diner, Toji would bring you food from your favorite restaurant, and you two would eat in his beat up pickup truck until you had to get back to work. When you would visit him in jail for those couple of months, he always had a drawing or an art project made as a gift for you to leave with. For your first christmas together, Toji bought you a beautiful gold necklace that you hadn’t taken off a single time until graduation.

He put you head and shoulders above every other person in his life. He didn’t like to talk about his parents, but you knew they had given him the permanent scar on his lip in his youth. His brother was grade A asshole #1, and the uncle that he was placed with after a lengthy CPS investigation when he was twelve treated him more like a burden than a person. Toji clung to you. When it all got to be too much, and he was scared you would hurt him too, he would lash out.

And now there was Megumi. Years ago, when graduation was far away and you and Toji were in a good phase, you two had a conversation about what you would name your kids.

“Mmm.. I think I’d like to name her Megumi," he had stated. You two were in your room, whispering to each other as he had snuck in that night.

“And if this hypothetical child were a boy?”

He paused for a second and thought. You giggled at his face as he took longer to ponder. “Probably still Megumi.” He had finally said.

“Can I ask why that is?” You traced the lines of his bare abs under the covers.

He chuckled and leaned to hover above you on the bed. “Because if we have a child together, it’s a blessing for me either way, mama.”

He sure didn’t act like it.

It was a cold day in December when you gave birth to Megumi. He came almost a month early, nearly a week before Toji’s birthday. You had wondered, when your mind wasn’t clouded with pain, what Toji was doing as you laid there in the worst pain you had ever felt in your life. Maybe he was out somewhere celebrating his birthday early. Maybe he was dead on the side of some road. You didn’t know, but you couldn’t afford to think about it too much.

But when Megumi was born, you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but love him more than anything in the entire world.

When you found out you were pregnant, you would have aborted if you weren’t three months along. If you hadn’t had your friends at that time, you don’t know where you’d be today. Gojo, Geto, and Shoko had all grown closer to you after that summer. Some people you never expected to see after graduation became your lifelines. You guys had been friends in school, sure. Shoko was even the one to tell you about Toji’s cheating. You guys had never been close until the three of them saw you at work and started cooing over your baby bump.

While your mom was the only one in the room during Megumi’s birth, those three waited outside for hours until they could meet your son.

The moment Megumi was placed on your chest, and you had let go of your mother’s hand for the first time in hours, you knew that Megumi was the absolute love of your life. You would do anything for him.

Over the course of your pregnancy, you hadn’t tried once to reach out to Toji. You were too hurt and angry to want anything to do with him. After Megumi was born, and you found yourself in your childhood bedroom with a crib in the corner, you decided you didn’t want Megumi to grow up without knowing his father, even if said father was a piece of shit.

So you had called Toji. It was one in the morning. You had just put Megumi down for the third time that night and stepped outside onto the porch to dial Toji’s number. It had been almost a year since you had last heard from him. You didn’t fully expect him to pick up.

“Hello?” you heard.

For a second, you couldn’t say anything. Frozen over hearing his deep voice for the first time in forever. Realizing just how much you had missed him. His voice was cold, but it was still his voice. You almost didn’t notice when you began to sob.

“Y/N?” he asked, a bit frantic at the sound of you crying. “What’s going on? Are you ok?” For a moment you couldn’t catch your breath, almost gasping for air. “Answer me mama, what’s going on?” It took you a couple more minutes before you could compose yourself.

“Yes.. I’m sorry. I’m okay. I’m just..”

It was silent from a moment.

“Why are you calling me?” His panic from earlier completely dissipated, he was back to a monotone pattern of speech. You paused. Leaning up against the door to your mother’s house. Contemplating how to tell this man, who, if you’re honest, is probably the love of your life, that he has a son.

“I, um, I have something to tell you.” You kicked a pebble off the porch and watched a car drive by. Toji said nothing, willing you to go on.

“I… I gave birth last month..” you said. You could feel your nervous energy manifesting in the finger nail you began to chew on. “You have a son..” It was cold outside, you gripped your sweater, one of Toji’s old ones, tightly around you and sat on the porch steps. You could see every bated breath in the frigid air.

For a moment there was nothing. It felt like forever, waiting for him to respond. Then he laughed. A cold, distant laugh. “How in the hell am I supposed to know if your kid is mine? I haven’t seen you in a year, I don’t know what the fuck you got goin’ on.”

He was pushing you away, probably scared. You knew that. But you weren’t mature enough to call it out. You were emotional, vulnerable, and now you were angry.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You whispered into the phone. “Do you realize you ruined my whole life? Left me here without a word, all alone? Now you wanna… what.. Try to claim I was cheating on you or some shit?” As you spoke, your voice pitched higher and higher, rage building.

“Who said anything about cheating?” He laughed. “You could’ve made your way around after you broke up with me. That’s your business.” You could hear people’s voices in the background, a woman said something to him on the other side, to which you could hear him distantly tell her to lay off.

There were the tears again but this time they were of rage. “So you get to go out clubbing, leave this town, leave me, and when I call you to tell you about your own… your son, you wanna call me a liar?”

“Left you?” This was the first emotion other than indifference or arrogance you could hear in his voice. Anger. “You left me. Don’t push that shit on me. I don’t owe your ass nothin’.”

“I left you because you were selling fucking drugs, Toji. After I had asked you, I begged you to stop. You chose that over me. You. left. Me. Seems like I made the right fucking decision because I’m not having my fucking baby around that shit. Around you.” By this point, you were practically yelling. You moved from your position on the steps to a corner of the porch closer to your house, pacing as you argued.

He laughed, “That’s perfectly fine with me, I don’t wanna be around some other dude’s baby, not my responsibility.”

Your teeth grinded back with every word. “I’m glad you think that way, Toji, because he won’t ever be around you. It’s fucking-” your voice cracked. “better that way.”

“What you fucking call me cryin’, trying to push some random fucking baby on me but I’m the fucking bad guy? Fuck off. Dates don’t match.”

“I’m not explaining myself to you, fucking asshole. Have a nice fucking life. I’m done with you.” You hung up before he could respond.

For a second you just stood there, watching your cold breath linger into the night. Then, you leaned against the side of the house and slid down to the ground.

No more crying over Toji Fushiguro. You won’t let yourself. You won’t give him another thought. You and Megumi will be just fine.

please let me know how you felt about this story! i plan to post the next part super soon! send me prompts and asks if you want too!! this is my first fic in this fandom and also the first time i've written in years, so forgive the clunkiness!

also let me know if i missed any tags!

thank you <3

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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perlelune · 6 months

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Oxytocin | Coriolanus Snow | ii.

One act of kindness from a peacekeeper may be your salvation or your doom. Possibly both.

Warnings: NON-CON, Blackmail, District 8 Reader, Stalking, Kidnapping

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

You do your best to avoid him for as long as you can.

You show up at the factory each day, diligent and focused on your work. You thread, dye and sew miles upon miles of fabric. It’s exhausting and repetitive but assists you well in burying the peculiar encounter. And if sometimes a particular shade of blue fabric stir memories of eyes you’d rather forget…you ignore that as well. It’s better that way. You narrowly escaped imprisonment, perhaps even death. No need to tempt fate once again.

But it’s no matter.

Because fate finds you anyway.

It happens as the end of your shift at the factory comes near. Your cold-bitten digits are interweaving two different colors of thread on a gigantic wooden loom. Same as the girls and boys surrounding you. They’re all quick and efficient, threading and weaving with the ease of practice. A lifetime of it. Some of them are as young as five years old. There’s a saying floating around the districts.

If one can walk, they can work.

You often wondered if that same logic applies to the Capitol’s children. Are they too expected to work until their fingers are numb with pain and their eyes red-rimmed with fatigue?

You somehow doubt it.

Once again, the weight of someone’s attention blankets your shoulders. You tense, the needle nicking your fingertip when your attention falters.

You curse and swipe away the blood beading on your finger.

Your head rises.

Anger simmers inside you at the sight of the smug face smirking at you from across the room.

Coriolanus.

He showed up one hour ago, switching places with another guard, and proceeded to stare at you since.

Dread pools in your gut. His gaze hasn’t strayed from you once.

What could the peacekeeper possibly want from you?

You have nothing, and it’s obvious he’s some rich kid from the Capitol who somehow found his way here.

“Your yarn is coming loose.”

Yara’s frenzied tone wrenches you away from your thoughts.

You look down, your forehead scrunching as you do. She’s right. The threads have broken out of their pattern, forming disgraceful zigzags over the loom.

Besides, there’s a minuscule crimson stain on the fabric. The pristine beige cloth is now ruined. This will come out of your pay.

Your ire grows. Your gaze narrows as it finds Coriolanus’. This is all his fault. He distracted you. Annoyance at the strange peacekeeper gleams inside you.

You bolt up from your stool.

“I have to go,” you announce, already gathering your satchel from the floor.

Yara’s eyes round. “Our shift’s not over yet,” she whispers below her breath, tossing wary glances at the guards. Your frown deepens. Any slight sign of disobedience could be seen as a hint of rebellion these days. It’s how much the Capitol wants to avoid a return to the Dark Days.

You smile at her in reassurance.

Yara was kind enough to show you the ropes when you started working at the textile factory. She even stayed late at night with you to teach you the most complex needlepoints.

Fidgeting, you apologize, “I’m sorry, but it’s an emergency. I’ve ruined it anyway.”

You don’t stick around for her response, rushing towards the nearest corridor to slip away.

A deep, teasing lilt echoes behind you in the hallway.

“Still trying to fly away from me, huh?”

Your heart leaps. Not again.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you chide as you keep hastening across the hallway. It doesn’t matter though. A stolen glimpse at your back reveals to you that Coriolanus’ long legs easily maintain pace with your frantic strides.

You unleash a weary sigh.

“I shouldn’t but I am, pretty bird.”

You can hear the smile in his voice and it infuriates you more.

“Leave me alone, Coriolanus-”

A sharp breath ripples through your throat as warm fingers suddenly clasp around your arm.

“What are you…”

The large hand that drapes over your mouth quiets your budding protest.

Ignoring your muffled shouts, he pulls you flush against his frame and drags you into a dark room inside another hallway.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you grab at anything you can. He’s undeterred by your feistiness, only unhanding you once he’s slammed the door shut.

A chill dances on your spine as every deadbolt is meticulously slid into place by him.

Leaning back against the locked door, Coriolanus’s eyes drag over you. He drinks you in for a while as you retreat, as far away from him as the small room allows.

Uncrossing his arms, the blonde starts inching towards you.

Your nerves flare up at his impending proximity. A heavy sigh drops from his chest.

“Why do you make that face when I’m only trying to help you?”

“I don’t want any help from you. I want nothing from you,” you shout.

He tilts his head, closing the distance. He shoves his hand in his pocket, seeming to search for something. You freeze.

Shock rocks through you when he conjures a familiar vial, shaking it in front of your face.

“Hm, Are you sure?” he taunts.

The urge to steal it from him has your fingertips tingling. But you tried that before, and it didn’t work in your favor. So you snuff out the impulse.

“How did you find out?”

“I have my ways.”

You search his stark cobalt orbs. They give nothing away.

“I just want to take care of you,” he adds.

“Why?”

You startle as his long fingers creep under your chin. You didn’t realize how close he’d gotten, now bending over you so you’re at eye-level.

“Because I can. I could make your life easier.”

His tender inflection, oddly intimate, makes discomfort pool in your stomach.

“I don’t need…”

“Take it.”

As you do nothing to take the bottle he holds up in his fist, Coriolanus exhales wearily.

You gasp when he shoves the vial between your trembling palms.

“Don’t be stupid,” he admonishes. “That cousin of yours won’t make it through winter without these. They’re antibiotics.”

You stare down at the amber bottle. Your shoulders slump. You hate to admit it but he’s probably right. Tilly’s coughing fits are progressively getting worse. She can hardly breathe properly most days. It hurts to see and you’ve been praying for a way to help her.

And now you have that way. Is it even fair to Tilly to turn his help down because of your own personal hang ups with the peacekeeper?

His motives elude you but you’re not sure it matters at that moment.

Tilly’s life is on the line.

Your fingers squeeze around the vial.

“I know what they are. It’s written on the bottle.”

Interest springs in his cobalt gaze.

“You can read? Interesting,” he hums. “Most people can’t in the districts.”

Your cheeks heat at his assumption. A respectable amount of people in the districts can in fact read. Not the majority, but a few at least. The knowledge just isn’t widespread enough and schools are a luxury most districts cannot afford.

“My grandmother taught me when I was young,” you defend.

He pauses, studying your defiant features.

His hand wraps around your hand holding the bottle. You try not to shrink, afraid he’ll take it back.

His thumb sweeps over your knuckles.

“These are very rare and hard to get. Don’t let your pride get in the way, pretty bird.”

“I won’t,” you mumble.

Another bag materializes before you. Coriolanus nudges it in your arms before you can think to protest. “Take that too.”

You glare at him suspiciously. “What is it?”

“Food, water, supplies.”

Grounded in disbelief, you peer inside the bag. Your jaw hangs slack. He wasn’t lying. The bag is brimming with rations. There’s even a few slices of bread and cheese on top. This has to be worth at least a hundred coins.

You purse your lips. “I can’t accept…I have nothing to repay you.”

Corolianus sighs, keeping the bag in your hands with his steely grip as you attempt to return it.

“Then just remember you live because of me,” he says. A lopsided smile blooms on his lips. “That’s the only payment I require.”

You snort. It can’t possibly be that simple, can it?

But Coriolanus’ features harbor no mirth. Skepticism heightens your pitch.

“That’s it?”

“Yes.”

You nod. “Okay, I will.”

Displeasure flickers in his gaze. His fingers sneak below your chin to angle it upward, forcing you to drown in his cobalt stare.

“No, I want to hear you say it, sweet bird.” His tone is laced with a solemnity that wasn’t there before. Your stomach knots. “That you live by the will of Coriolanus Snow.”

A shaky breath flows out of you. You’re suddenly reluctant under his keen scrutiny.

Still, your voice comes out a tremulous croak.

“I live because of you, Coriolanus Snow.”

His entire face lights up with your words, a strange glow appearing in his orbs.

For some reason, you feel as if you just tied a noose around your own neck.

You take a sip of your beer, basking in the bitter, heady aftertaste. Usually, you’re not much of a drinker, but it’s the first true respite you’ve gotten from the blue-eyed peacekeeper in many weeks and you plan on enjoying it.

A tavern wouldn’t be your first choice but Yara invited you and it occurred to you this isn’t the kind of place a boy smelling like old money and roses would visit.

It’s rare for you to be anywhere these days without his disarming presence hovering in a corner of the room.

You’ve even considered abandoning your job at the factory altogether. But it’s not like a girl like you can change careers on a whim. You have no connections, no skill, no talent whatsoever. Nothing but your hard-earned ability to weave threads of fabrics together.

Maybe the mines at the northern end of the district.

It’s far from a tempting prospect. The work is downright dangerous. But at least it would shield you from the peacekeeper’s relentless scrutiny.

“Your shadow isn’t here today," Yara notes.

You drag your eyes away from the band playing on stage.

“My shadow?”

“That pretty boy peacekeeper who follows you around," she elaborates, her lips curved in amusement. You grimace. If only she knew. There isn’t a shred of mirth in your current predicament.

You roll your eyes. “He doesn’t follow me around.”

You refrain from saying he does a plethora of other things that puzzle you and stir your discomfort.

You refuse to trust him, but thanks to him your cousin has been getting noticeably better, even able to walk on her own again now. It’s a relief. Tonight she’s at friend’s and gets to laugh, play and be a regular kid again.

Besides, though it pains you to recognize it, your belly’s fuller than it’s been in a long time.

It shames you to admit it, but it took you no time to cave in and gobble down the food he offered. Hunger does strange things to people.

You loathe yourself for yielding but the feeling of an empty stomach is infinitely worse than that of your wounded pride.

"He is pretty though," your friend says, glancing away dreamily.

Your face warms. "I really don’t care how he looks. I just wish he’d go pester someone else."

"Hm, fair." She drinks from her jug and shrugs. "He could just be bored. I’m sure he’ll stop at some point."

The conversation reaches a halt when a brown-haired guy around your age with a scar across his face stops at your table.

“Can I ask you to dance?” he asks. His cheeks redden as he awaits your response. A quiet glance passes between you and Yara. You kick her under the table when she nearly lets out a chuckle.

Endeared by the boy’s bashful manner, you answer with a smile, “Sure, why not.”

You let the stranger drag you into a dance, your worries fading into the buoyant, lively notes played by the band and the boy’s nonchalant grin.

It’s the kind of normalcy you’ve been longing for.

Engrossed in the moment, as the boy slips a hand around your waist, an audible gasp spills out of you when he pulls away from you out of the blue.

Or rather is wrenched away from you.

Your brows rise to your hairline.

You gape in horror, the sight of Coriolanus hauling the boy up by his lapels striking you mute. His features are taut with anger as the boy’s hands rise defensively. A mix of befuddlement and fear decorates his features.

Guilt needles your chest. You never expected the blond to show up here of all places. Paranoia seizes the chaotic train of your thoughts. Was he here all along, watching you like a hawk the entire time? Is he always here, never wandering too far from wherever you are?

Fear coils your insides.

"Hey," you call out, relief trickling inside you when your legs move again. You make a beeline to Coriolanus.

“What is wrong with you?” you shout, trying to pry him off the poor boy.

It’s not the useless hand scratching his bicep but rather your tone that appears to jerk him out of his trance.

His grip on the boy loosens as he whirls to you. The stranger wastes no time in running away. You can’t even blame him. You can’t imagine there’d be many repercussions if the blond harmed him, but the opposite can’t be said.

Coriolanus’ hands slowly lower before balling into fists.

Irate blue eyes flare as they fall on you.

You recoil.

“With me?” he growls, crowding your space. "His grubby paws were all over you."

You blink in disbelief, shocked by his accusing tone. You did nothing wrong. It’s not like he can tell you who to dance and not dance with. "G-Grubby…what? I’m not some damsel in need of rescuing, Coriolanus."

He squints at you, displeasure evident on his angular features.

His hand latches onto your arm, yanking you towards the exit. You can barely keep up with his furious stomps.

“I think it’s time we had a talk. Come with me.”

“I’d rather stay here."

He ignores you, his grip on you turning deathly. Tears burn the back of your eyes.

“No…”

You toss a desperate look above your shoulder to find your friend just as shocked as you are. She won’t help you. No one will.

Your stomach sinks.

The tears break past the confine of your lashes.

He takes you outside. The chilly air skates across your skin, spreading gooseflesh over it. The silver glow of the moon lights the tortuous path he takes through dim, narrow alleyways. This is nowhere near your cabin and your panic swells.

You dig your heels into the ground, resisting.

Coriolanus heaves out a weary exhale. He hunkers down to pick you up. You squeal, flabbergasted by his nerve. He hoists you on his shoulders as if you were a sack of grain, taking firm, irate steps into the night.

"You can’t do this," you weep, slamming as hard as you can into his back.

Hardly flinching, he scoffs before stating, “I don’t remember asking for your permission, birdie."

#coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow #tbosbas fanfiction #hunger games #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #divider credit: samspenandsword

1K notes · View notes

enkaiuminos · 2 months

Note

Can I get a monster trio x crush (they haven't confessed/aren't in a relationship yet) when basically they're playing a game with Nami because they're bored and Nami says, "Say the first word that comes to mind when I say...(crewmates name.)" And y/n isn't thinking and says 'daddy' and they overhear. And Nami starts teasing the shitzu out of them.

thank you!!

My Daddy

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Sorry if there is not enough sexual tension in here that you guys must have wanted. I'm personally not used to the tern 'daddy' in that way but I tried my best!

-ˏˋ♥̩͙♥̩̩̥͙♥̩̥̩ ⑅ I hope you guys enjoy it! :) ⑅ ♥̩̥̩♥̩̩̥͙♥̩͙ˊˎ

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

"Straw Hat" Luffy

- was eavesdropping because he smelt food inside the room

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

"Okay Y/N, let's play another game. Uno is getting too boring," Nami muttered.

You nodded in agreement, your eyes scanning the room for a more exciting game to play. "How about we try a round of Charades?" you suggested, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

"Nah, I've got a better idea," Nami smirked.

"What is it?"

Nami grinned and explained, "It's a game where I'll say a word, and you have to say the first word that comes to mind. We'll go back and forth, and the goal is to see how quickly we can come up with a word."

"Sounds like a fun game! I'm up for the challenge," you replied with a competitive glint in your eyes.

"Okay, what do you associate with me?" Nami asked.

"The navigator," you said confidently.

"Wow, not drawing a map of the entire world?" Nami pouted, taking a sip of her drink.

"Well more people know you for the weather," you said, not affected by her whining.

"Okay, now what do you associate with me?" you asked, snacking one of the Sanji's desserts.

"Probably Luffy,"

"Luffy? Why Luffy?" you repeated.

Nami questioned, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Well, you two are always together, embarking on wild adventures and stirring up trouble."

"That's because I'm the one who keeps him in line and makes sure he doesn't get too carried away," you responded, causing Nami to laugh and playfully swat at your arm.

"What about you? What do you think of Luffy?"

"Daddy," you blurted out, causing Nami to burst into laughter.

"Oh, Daddy, huh?" Nami teased, raising an eyebrow mischievously.

"I never took you for the paternal type, Y/N. Are you sure there's nothing you want to tell me?" she added, laughing uncontrollably as your face turned beet red.

"It's not what you think," you muttered shyly, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"Of course not," Nami teased, "Don't worry, I'll keep this a secret," she added, still giggling at your embarrassment.

Little did Nami and you know, Luffy had been eavesdropping on their conversation the entire time, his curiosity piqued by their game.

As Luffy listened in on their conversation, a confused frown spread across his face. "Y/N thinks of me as a daddy? What does that mean? I'll have to ask her about it later," Luffy muttered to himself.

The tantalizing aroma of dinner filled the air, diverting Luffy's attention from his bewildering thoughts about your comment. His stomach growled, and with a wide grin, he quickly made his way towards the source of the delicious smell. . . .

You had been fixing Luffy's hat after he fought a big boss and had gotten hold of his hat, carefully straightening out the dents and smoothing the fabric.

You had to carefully sew the straw hat back to gather, making sure to mend any tears or loose threads. As you worked, you couldn't help but marvel at the countless adventures Luffy had embarked on while wearing this iconic hat.

A part of you felt honored that you were responsible for fixing his hat, knowing that it symbolized not only Luffy's resilience and determination, but also the trust he had in you to take care of something so precious to him.

"Y/N! Y/N!" A voice yelled from behind you, making you jump. You turned to see Luffy himself, a wide grin on his face.

Luffy's wide grin was accompanied by beads of sweat dripping down his forehead, evidence of the intense play session he had with Usopp and Franky in the scorching heat. Despite the sweat, his vibrant energy seemed unfazed as he eagerly approached you.

"Luffy, you're supposed to be healing," you scolded, sighing as he sat beside you. "I can't believe you're already up and about after that intense battle. You really are something else."

"It's nothing," Luffy shrugged, his eyes fixated on the carefully repaired hat in your hands.

You sighed again before placing his hat on his head, feeling a sense of satisfaction as you saw it fit perfectly. "There you go, Luffy," you said with a smile. "Good as new. Just remember to take it easy and let yourself heal properly." Luffy nodded, his grin widening even more, as he proudly wore his beloved straw hat once again.

Though Luffy didn't stand or move as you placed all of the materials that you used away, his eyes never leaving you.

"So why did you call me daddy?" Luffy said suddenly.

You choked on your own breath, coughing in surprise as Luffy's unexpected question caught you off guard. Your mind raced, trying to make sense of what he had just said. "Wait, what?" you spluttered, eyes wide with confusion.

"I overheard you and Nami talking," Luffy started, munching on the food that was left on the table.

You turned to face Luffy, and despite his unexpected question, his eyes sparkled with pure energy.

"Do you even know what it means Luffy?"

"Nope,"

You turned away from him to collect your thoughts, trying to figure out how to explain the meaning of the word "daddy" to Luffy without making things awkward.

"But Nami told me," Luffy said, his mouth full of food.

"Really?"

"Yeah, but I still don't get it," Luffy munched. "It's used to address a male authority figure or idol in a sexualized manner."

Your cheek felt red as you struggled to find the right words to respond.

Nami! How could you tell him! You traitor!

"Does that mean I get to call you Mummy?"

As you processed Luffy's question, your mind started to malfunction, unable to comprehend the absurdity of the situation.

"Luffy," you stammered, trying to regain your composure, "saying those things is reserved for someone you deeply care about, someone you love romantically. It's not something you just casually say to anyone."

"That's exactly why we should do that!" Luffy argued. "I like you."

You froze, unsure of how to respond to Luffy's declaration. A part of you wanted to brush it off as a joke or a misunderstanding, but the sincerity in his eyes made you realize that he was serious.

"I need to go," I said, getting up and leaving, when Luffy grabbed your arm. His grip was unsurprisingly strong, and as I turned to face him, I saw the determination in his eyes.

"Don't you like me too?" he asked softly, his voice filled with vulnerability. You looked into Luffy's eyes, conflicted and unsure of how to respond.

A thousand thoughts raced through your mind, but you couldn't deny the growing affection you felt for him.

You then quickly went down on your knees and placed a small kiss on his lips, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. As you pulled away, Luffy's eyes widened in surprise, and a wide grin formed on his face.

"Let's take it slow okay," you said, flustered as you started to leave again.

"Okay!" Luffy agreed, following you with a beaming smile on his face, his hand reaching out to hold yours.

For the next week, Luffy continued to follow you around the ship, his excitement and affection evident in every action. However, his clinginess eventually caught the attention of Nami, who scolded him for being too clingy and reminded him to give you some space. . . . .

"Pirate Hunter" Zoro

- was eavesdropping because one of his swords was in the room (probably got lost)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

"Okay Y/N, let's play another game. Charades is getting too boring," Nami muttered, picking up an alcohol drink from the small nearby fridge.

You nodded in agreement, your eyes scanned the room for a more exciting game to play. "How about we try a round of Pictionary?" you suggested, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

"Nah, I've got a better idea," Nami smirked.

"Really? What is it?"

Nami grinned and explained, "It's a game where I'll say a word, and you have to say the first word that comes to mind."

"Sounds like a fun game! I'm up for the challenge," you replied with a competitive glint in your eyes.

"Okay, what would you associate with me?" Nami asked.

"Being the navigator," you said confidently.

"Wow, not drawing a map of the entire world?" Nami pouted, taking a sip of her drink.

"Well more people know you for your weather skills," you said, not affected by her whining.

"Okay, now what do you associate with me?" you asked, snacking one of the Sanji's desserts.

"Probably Zoro,"

"Zoro? Why Zoro?" you repeated louder, shocked.

Nami questioned, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Well, I see how you look at him when he's fighting."

"That's because I'm just trying to study his moves to use them myself," you responded, causing Nami to laugh and playfully swat at your arm.

"What about you? What do you think of Zoro?" Nami asked after finishing her drink.

"Daddy," you blurted out, causing Nami to burst into laughter again.

"Oh, Daddy, huh?" Nami teased, raising an eyebrow mischievously.

"I never took you for the paternal type, Y/N. Are you sure there's nothing you want to tell me?" she added, laughing uncontrollably as your face turned beet red.

"It's not what you think," you muttered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"Of course not," Nami teased, "Don't worry, I'll keep this a secret between the both of us," she added, still giggling at your embarrassment.

It was unknown to them that Zoro had been listening to their conversation from behind the door while they were talking.

His face turned slightly red at your unexpected response, and he quickly turned away, pretending not to have heard anything.

"Daddy, huh?" Zoro muttered to himself, flustered and completely forgetting about the sword he was going to retrieve.

He couldn't help but wonder what you meant by calling him "Daddy." The unexpected revelation left him feeling both intrigued and slightly embarrassed. . . .

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

After landing on another weird island, the crew was separated into two team; Nami, you, Zoro, Usopp and Robin, Franky, Luffy and Sanji while the rest stayed at the ship.

Unfortunately for you, you were stuck with the two biggest scaredy cats and a man with no sense of direction. What good luck did you really have?

First Zoro had got lost as soon as the group stepped into the forest and then a 13 foot tiger came over and scared the scaredy cat duo away, leaving you with a tamed tiger and an untamed forest.

"Where are these guys?" You asked yourself as the tiger let you on its back and they started to walk deeper into the mysterious forest.

The dense foliage began to give way to a clearing, revealing a hidden paradise unlike anything you had ever seen before.

"Where is who?" A voice said behind you, making you jump and turn around with your sword in your hands.

To your surprise, it was none other than Zoro himself, who had finally found his way back to you. "Zoro! How did you...?" you stammered, unable to hide your astonishment.

"Oh, were you looking for me?" Zoro smirked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I guess even a sense of direction as terrible as mine can still lead me to the right place. Lucky you, huh?"

You blushed at his comment, feeling a mix of annoyance and admiration for Zoro's confident demeanor. Placing your sword back into the sword holder, you replied, "Luck has nothing to do with it. I was perfectly capable of handling myself without you, you know."

"Of course you wouldn't admit it," Zoro said casually, walking closer to you on the tiger's back.

"Admit what?"

"Admit that you missed me," Zoro teased with a mischievous grin, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Why would I miss you?" you retorted, rolling your eyes. "I was doing just fine without your sense of direction and constant bickering. In fact, it was quite peaceful."

Zoro chuckled, his grin widening. "Oh, I see. So you don't miss my amazing company, huh? Then why did I hear that my nickname is daddy?"

"You spun around and looked at him in shock, unable to believe what you just heard. "Who told you that?" you asked, your voice filled with disbelief.

Zoro bursts into laughter, thoroughly enjoying your reaction. "Ah, so you do miss me after all," he said, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

How does he know? Did Nami tell him or was he at the door when I said it out loud?

"N-No," you said, your cheeks turning red with embarrassment. "That was just a silly joke someone made. It doesn't mean anything."

Zoro's laughter subsided, and he looked at you with a playful glint in his eyes. "Sure, sure," he said, his tone teasing. "Whatever you say, Y/N."

"So as your daddy, shouldn't you be more nice to me," his voice said behind you, catching you off guard.

A hand crept up to your waist, causing a shiver to run down your spine. You turned to find Zoro standing close, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "Or maybe I should teach you a lesson," he whispered, his voice low and seductive.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to maintain your composure despite the sudden proximity. "Oh, is that a threat, Zoro? I'd love to see you try," you replied, a smirk of your own forming on your lips.

Zoro's mischievous grin grew wider as he leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your ear. "Oh, it's not a threat, Y/N," he murmured huskily. "It's a promise."

Quickly, you turned round to face him, unable to resist the magnetic pull between you. The air crackled with tension as his mischievous grin transformed into a smoldering gaze, and you couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through your body.

"How do you intend on fulfilling this promise?" you challenged, a mix of curiosity and anticipation in your voice. Zoro's eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in even closer, his lips dangerously close to yours.

"Oh, I have a few ideas," he whispered, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to see if your actions can live up to your words," you responded, a playful glint in your eyes.

Zoro's lips gently brushed against yours, sending an electric jolt through your body.

The kiss started soft and tender, filled with a mix of longing and desire. As the intensity grew, his grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer as your lips moved in perfect synchronization.

Time seemed to stand still as the world faded away, and all that mattered was the intoxicating sensation of his lips against yours. Every touch, every movement, was a dance of passion and connection, igniting a fire that burned between you.

It was a kiss that spoke volumes, a promise of the desire and pleasure that awaited as you surrendered to the magnetic pull between you. . . .

"Black Leg" Sanji

- was eavesdropping because he was looking for the girls to try his new drink

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶ ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶ ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

"Okay Y/N, let's play another game. Pictionary is getting too boring," Nami muttered, picking up an alcohol drink from the small nearby fridge.

You nodded in agreement, your eyes scanning the room for a more exciting game to play. "How about we try a round of Uno?" you suggested, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

"Nah, I've got a better idea," Nami smirked.

"Really? What is it?"

Nami grinned and explained, "It's a game where I'll say a word, and you have to say the first word that comes to mind."

"Sounds like a fun game! I'm up for the challenge," you replied with a competitive glint in your eyes.

"Okay, what would you associate with me?" Nami asked.

"Being the navigator," you said confidently.

"Wow, not drawing a map of the entire world?" Nami pouted, taking a sip of her drink.

"Well more people know you for your weather skills," you said, not affected by her whining.

"Okay, now what do you associate with me?" you asked, snacking one on the Sanji's desserts.

"Probably Sanji,"

"Sanji? Why Sanji?" you repeated, surprised.

Nami questioned, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Well, I see you are with him."

"What do you mean?"

"Like how you're nice to him all the time," Nami gave an example.

"I'm being nice to him because he's nice to me," you responded, causing Nami to laugh and playfully swat at your arm.

"What about you? What do you think of Sanji?" Nami asked after finishing her drink.

"Daddy," you blurted out, causing Nami to burst into laughter again.

"Oh, Daddy, huh?" Nami teased, raising an eyebrow mischievously.

"I never took you for the paternal type, Y/N. Are you sure there's nothing you want to tell me?" she added, laughing uncontrollably as your face turned beet red.

"It's not what you think," you muttered shyly, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"Of course not," Nami teased, "Don't worry, I'll keep this a secret between the both of us," she added, still giggling at your embarrassment.

Suddenly, you two heard a thud behind the door, causing both Nami's laughter and your embarrassment to fade instantly. They exchanged worried glances before cautiously approaching the door to investigate the source of the noise.

As blood started to leak into the room, they exchanged a horrified look before cautiously opening the door to find someone lying unconscious on the floor.

As they got a closer look, they realized it was Sanji lying unconscious on the floor. Panic washed over them as they quickly checked for any signs of injury, hoping he was alright.

Instead, they found that all of the bleeding came from his nose, and there were no other visible signs of injury.

"Sanji?" you whispered, shaking his shoulder gently. As he stirred awake, you asked, your voice filled with concern, "What happened? Are you okay?"

"Y/N?" Sanji muttered, his eyes still closed, "She thinks of me as a daddy?"

Nami sighed behind you, "he's such a pervert," before walking back into the room. . . .

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶ ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶ ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Sanji had passed out again after waking up the first time. Worried, you quickly called Chopper, knowing that Sanji needed medical attention and that he would be the best person to help get him back to his bed.

Chopper decided it was best to supervise Sanji in his doctor's office and turned into Heavy Point form to carry Sanji away, saying goodbye to you.

Feeling bad since you kind of caused Sanji to collapse, you decided to clean the dirty dishes he was supposed to do.

It's been five months since you joined the straw hat crew. Even though those months went by quickly, one particular blonde kept capturing your attention. Sanji's charm and chivalry had a way of drawing you in, and you found yourself growing more and more fond of him with each passing day.

You felt your face heat up as you remembered that Sanji had heard your conversation with Nami. The thought of him knowing your true feelings for him made your heart race and your cheeks flush even more.

"Why did I say that?" you muttered to yourself, regretting the slip of your true feelings. The embarrassment overwhelmed you, but deep down, a small part of you hoped that Sanji's passing out was due to something else entirely, and not your confession.

As you scrubbed the dirty dishes, you couldn't help but wish that Sanji would sleep until tomorrow, sparing you from the awkwardness and embarrassment.

However, with your captain's insatiable hunger and the pile of 50 plates waiting to be washed, it seemed like you would have to face Sanji sooner than you had hoped.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't realize that someone had quietly entered the kitchen until you felt a warm breath on your neck.

Startled, you turned around to find Sanji standing behind you, a concerned expression on his face. His arms were placed on top of yours, taking the plate that was about to fall out of your hands.

"Let me help you," he said softly, his voice filled with warmth and reassurance.

"Sanji! Aren't you supposed to be with Chopper?" you asked, turning around to face him, surprised by his presence in the kitchen.

Sanji smiled gently, his concerned expression turning into a playful one. "And leave you to do my duties? There is no way I would let you do it alone."

"But I caused this," you muttered, your hand gesturing to the bandage wrapped around Sanji's head. "I'm sorry for making you collapse earlier." Sanji's playful expression softened, and he gently grabbed your hand with his.

"Don't blame yourself," he reassured you. "It wasn't your fault. I should have taken better care of myself."

"Really?" you asked, your voice filled with disbelief. Sanji chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with warmth. "Really," he replied, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

As he spoke, he placed your hand on his cheek, his face turning slightly towards it. "In fact," he said, his voice filled with sincerity, "hearing your confession made me realize how much I care about you too."

Your heart skipped a beat as you processed Sanji's words, and a smile slowly spread across your face. "I'm glad," you whispered, your voice filled with genuine happiness.

"I care about you too, Sanji."

Slowly, your other hand rose up to link around Sanji's neck, pulling him closer to you.

"Can I kiss you?" Sanji muttered, his voice barely audible. You felt your cheeks flush as his words hung in the air, and without hesitation, you leaned in, closing the gap between you and sealing the moment with a gentle kiss.

Sanji moved back first, letting you catch your breath and giving you a moment to process the intensity of the kiss. As you both pulled away, a soft smile lingered on your lips, and you could see the same happiness reflected in Sanji's eyes.

"So you think of me as a daddy, huh?" he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Blushing, you took your hands away from his shoulder and used them to cover your face, feeling a mix of embarrassment and delight. "N-no! I mean, it's not like that!" you stammered, trying to hide your flushed cheeks.

Sanji chuckled, his playful teasing evident in his voice. "Relax, I was just kidding," he said, his eyes filled with affection as he gently pulled your hands away from your face.

"I mean the other kind of 'daddy'," you muttered, unable to look into his eyes.

"Are you sure you want that with me?" he questioned, raising your chin up to have eye contact with him.

You nodded, feeling a rush of courage and vulnerability intertwine. Wrapping your hands around his neck again, you gazed into his eyes and whispered, "Yes, Sanji. I want that with you."

Sanji quickly sneaked his hands low enough to lift you onto the kitchen counter, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

His lips found yours again, this time with a hunger that matched your own, as you both surrendered to the passion that had been building between you.

You felt your hands slide around his neck as you pulled him closer, the two of you lost in a heated embrace. His lips trailed down your neck, sending waves of pleasure through your body as your heart raced. You both pulled away, both breathing heavily as you looked into each other's eyes.

"I love you, daddy," you muttered, your voice filled with genuine affection and admiration.

"I love you too, my darling." Sanji said, capturing your lips one more time, sealing your declaration of love with a passionate kiss that left you breathless and craving for more. . . .

296 notes · View notes

luveline · 9 months

Note

Hi jade! I’ve been so enjoying your shy!reader fridays. if you are down for another req- Eddie and reader are at a party and she gets overstimulated/overwhelmed from the noise and he takes care of her someplace quiet? 🥺

hi, thank you for requesting!! I really think Eddie would give the best hugs when you're feeling down ♡ —Eddie reassures you after things get too much at a party. fluff, hurt/comfort. fem!reader, 1.6k

Sticky floor, cigarette smoke in the air. Every step you take pulls and every breath is sharp. Eddie smokes a cigarette by the open back door but there's no need, tens of hands hosting cigarettes held aloft across the room. The music is loud enough to cover the sound of dragging inhales, embers burning like little red lanterns in the dim light.

Someone smashes a bottle across the room. There's a raucous round of applause, to which the smashee bends at the waist for a low rolling bow. You want to smile at the joke but your ears are ringing, this odd feeling like a humming between your ears too much to deal with. You wore shoes that were tight at the toes because you wanted to wear the jeans Eddie likes and they were the only shoes that looked good, and that thought process alone had been exhausting, the hot stress of taking off and putting on in a rush.

When Eddie picked you up, he said, Hey, you look frazzled, babe. Which wasn't really the reaction you wanted. Not his fault. Not great either way.

Eddie meets your eye over the shoulder of some Jean jacket talking to him and gives you a send help sort of look. You laugh for show, awkward being so far away from him, probably on the brink of a mini meltdown. You need to not be in this room for a minute.

Your shoes hurt and stick to the floor as you stand. You cringe across the living room through a game of poker with Magic cards for chips, taking a right down the hall away from the noise to the front door. Morose, you pass it and climb the stairs. There's a blissfully empty bathroom waiting for you at the top.

You close the door and breathe a sigh of relief. You feel nauseous, like you need to lay down, but you settle for resting your weight on the cold porcelain of the sink basin, hands braced, flinching as the sink touches the small of your back. You're fed up with hot and cold and loud and sticky and messy.

Tracing the nooks and crannies of the bathroom, you wonder if it would be rude to smell their shower gels or rifle through the medicine cabinet. Definitely rude, you decide, but perhaps a necessary evil. You need a distraction or something. What you really want is to open the window and bail out now before you catch fire, but you don't trust your legs to not break.

A knock sounds against the door.

You cover your face in your hands, allowing yourself the drama of it as your favourite voice speaks, "Y/N? You in there?"

Eddie's voice is rough tonight from the smokes, and it tends to hover low when he's relaxed. There's a gritty quality to it that gives you shivers when he uses it against your skin, similar in a way to his hands. Callused, bitten nails, hard ridges of bones, but always gentle when they touch you. Or, usually. He's a stickler for rough-housing.

You wait too long to answer and panic. You could flush the toilet and feign calm, but then it drags too long, and Eddie says, "Hello?"

"Yeah," you say, hating yourself desperately for sounding strangled. You push down the handle and open the door.

Eddie stands in the slit of the door with a smile. He's always smiling when he sees you like you're something worth smiling about. It doesn't make much sense, but Eddie Munson doesn't make sense. Black clothes with rips and chains and beads, on his torso a bleach stained mess that was once a Metallica tour shirt, his legs a pair of jeans he had to sew back together when the side seam on his thigh split. You professed to liking that look, to his delight, and he promised to show you his thighs more often after that. One of the bracelets you made him months ago hangs from his wrist, too big, the embroidery thread you'd twisted into wonky hearts a sodden grey colour from his refusal to take it off in the shower.

"What are we doing in here?" he asks, raising a dark eyebrow.

"Wouldn't you like to know."

Eddie gives a performative look behind you and, upon seeing no suitors nor snacks, shrugs. "Whole lot of nothing, by the look. Where's your boyfriend?"

You squint at him playfully, "Off bothering some poor lark, I'm sure."

Eddie eases the door open to step into the bathroom with you. He sniffs unhappily at the strong bleach smell but quickly loses whatever qualm he has when his hands find your waist. "Don't call my girl a lark. What's that even mean?"

He kisses you with little fanfare in place of Hello. "You okay?" he asks, his hand sliding between the layers of your shirt and your jacket. It moves like it has a mind of its own, roving and rolling against the slope of your back. "I looked away for five seconds to stub out my smoke and you were gone. Kind of sick."

"Sorry," you say, "wanted to loot Ben's grandma. She has a treasure trove of pound cream in there that's gotta be worth like, sixty dollars."

"I don't believe for a second you looked in their medicine cabinet," Eddie says, though he untangles his arms from your waist to look anyway. The only thing in the cabinet is an extra tube of toothpaste under a layer of dust. "You liar."

"I know. I just wanted some quiet."

Eddie closes the cabinet, arm braced against the side of it as he sets his concern on you. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just… it was loud, and the smoke was getting in my eyes, and… Sorry, I know that's dumb."

His head dips slightly toward one shoulder. "That's not dumb. You get overwhelmed a lot." He gestures to you with his hand, the flat surface of a silver ring skating across the back of your arm where you've brought them to your stomach. "I don't care. Like, it doesn't matter, I didn't mean it like that."

"I don't mean to," you say quietly.

"Baby. Baby, I know," he says.

He opens his hands and offers them, giving you the option of more or less touch. You give him your hand, and while you aren't sure at first that you want it, his squeezing hold helps release some of the cruel tension twisted between your shoulders.

"It's loud, huh?" you ask, the floor beneath your feet vibrating in time to the drums.

"It's really loud. It's a lot." His thumb smooths over the back of your hand, more love in that one touch than some people have shown you your whole life. Eddie's always been like this, even when you weren't dating, dropping love at your feet like it didn't cost a thing. "You can come over, you know? Even if I look like I'm doing something I'm just waiting for you to come over. If you're not feeling it, I wanna be the first to know."

"I don't think I'm feeling it," you admit.

"You want a hug?" he asks.

You hug in the same way, hands vying for the other's waist, though his arms go over yours. You rest your cheek in the curve of his neck and breathe in a relieved sigh, his smell washing over you in a rosemary wave. He wears this rosemary and patchouli cologne religiously like Hendrix did. If it's good enough for him, he says. Eddie likes to spritz you with it if you're standing close enough to share the magic.

"You smell nice," you murmur.

"It's not too much, is it?" he asks, putting his head on yours.

"No. It's nice."

"Try to relax," he says, fingers massaging gently into the dip of your back like he can feel the tension. "We'll leave in a bit. I don't wanna drag you back into the pit if you're not feeling up to it today."

"I wore my bad shoes."

"I thought you did," he says. He rubs his nose into your forehead. "Why would you do that? You know they don't fit."

"Look nice with the jeans."

"I do love the jeans," Eddie confesses.

"I know you do."

"Oh, yeah? Don't tell me you wore your nice jeans for lil ole me. Sweetheart, I'm flattered."

You pinch him in warning.

He drops the salacious act in favour of a softer hug, holding his breath for a handful of long, languid seconds. "Aw, I love you," he says on the exhale. "You'll feel better in a minute, I promise. Soon as we get out of here, you can take your shoes off in the van and we'll go get dive bar curly fries to eat in silence."

"That sounds amazing," you say sheepishly.

Eddie encourages your head back to kiss the tip of your nose. "I know. I know you, babe. But I can't read your mind, so you need to tell me when you're overwhelmed. I can help you deal with it."

"Love you," you murmur.

He strokes your cheek with his thumb before both hands move down. He dusts off your shoulders, straightening your jacket.

"Ready to get out of here?" he asks.

You mirror his genial smile as he takes your hand to lead you back downstairs.

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