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screampied · 5 months

Note

how jjk men react to you being quiet in bed and trying to hide your moans

ps: love your writing and I don't know if you've done this or not but respond when you can happy new year🎊

❛ JUST A TEASE! ❜

geto, sukuna, gojo, toji, nanami. jjk men dealing with a quiet s/o who hides their moans.

warnings. fem!reader, lots of praise, dirty talk, cunnilingus, hair pulling, overstim, hiding your moans, size kink, 18+

wc. 2.5k

an. happy new year !!!! and thank yew smmm.

★ NANAMI KENTO.

“everything okay?” he’d hum, and nanami’s got you riding him, two soft grasped hands latch onto your waist as you’re slowly lurching and bucking your hips against him. nanami ghosts a few fingers down your waist.

a sly teasing expression with the way he’s leaned back, his eyes trail from up to down as he sees your cute expressions. “you’re awfully quiet today, princess.”

and you were very much quiet, he raised his brows at the way you hide yourself into his neck, trying to deflect the situation by softly nibbling on his skin and he smiles to himself.

“is the pretty baby shy to make noise?” he coos, his words were warm—full of tenderness with a tad of playfulness. you let off a soft gasp from the way he lightly grips a bit more on both sides of your waist. nanami makes you start to move your hips, bounce against him, your skin ricocheting from each thrust and you’re so full, pumped full of his girth you can’t even think clearly. “you don’t gotta hide from me. ‘s just me, hon. your moans are adorable, y’know?”

you pathetically nod, feeling yourself throb from not only his sloppy hits against you—but his words, the way he was so soft and tender with his praises.

“i-i know,” you muttered, your arms went around him and he softly chortles, brushing his thumbs against your hips—creating a pattern-like trace of circles against your skin, giving your sweet curves all types of attention and touch. “i just don’t wanna be so loud. it’s…embarrassing.”

“embarrassing?” he repeats, and he’s still leaned back. nanami’s so pretty, blond hair slightly ruffled, a few beads of sweat run down the sides of his head as if they were in a competitive race with each other.

he’s balls deep to where you slip out a moan from feeling his tip kiss against that spot that always gets you weak. “oh, don’t say that,” he happily sighs, there was a sparse glimpse of sparkle in his eye and he smiles. nanami lightly tilts your chin up to bring a kiss towards your lips. “you could never be embarrassing, my love. if anything, your sweet moans and whimpers are quite adorable. the way only i can make you sound like that makes me feel a certain type of way.”

“really?” you’d moan, squeezing your glossed lips together.

“really, princess.” he reassures you, your entrance felt as if it was nearly at its limit, nanami’s cock stretched and stretched against you as you felt him throb—giving him a subtle glance. you could spot his sharp jawline, and the perfect way of how it clenched and tightened. you made him so aroused, for a brief moment he stared away before pulling you towards his chest.

you choke out a whimper, pressure building up inside of you, how filthy it was at the way his tip french-kissed your g-spot, a sloppy smooch with the head of it — you’re spasming, you’re stupid.

“k-kento, ‘m gonna cum...” you’d gasp.

“can’t hear you pretty girl,” he groans, peppering a few kisses near your face. “i wanna hear you. speak up, wanna hear that voice talk to me nice.”

once you end up creaming down his shaft for a second time. you’re shaking, a mess and he has to hold you in his arms. a warm smile on his lips as your body lifelessly rocked against him.

not exactly moving your hips anymore—you panted, tugging on the front fabric of his shirt before slumping your head against his chest.

“aww, my poor baby’s all exhausted, hm? there there, ‘s okay. i got you, kento’s got you.”

★ GOJO SATORU.

the moment he figures out you’re trying to be quiet purposely — hiding your moans. a hand covering your mouth he grows confused, yet it turns to straight cockiness.

“heyyy, don’t be like that,” he purses his lips, you’re laid flat on your back with your legs just lightly pushed apart. just open and spread just for him and only him. “hiding your pretty moans from me? aw man, that’s no fun, princess…”

and he gives you a faux pout your right hand that wasn’t occupied, your nails dug into the depths of his skin, marking up his pale toned arm.

gojo looks down at you, one hand lightly pressing against your tummy to feel how good he was fucking you.

“m-mhm s-sato—,” you’d pant, again and again. your pussy gripped and hugged tight against him. a bear hug practically. your walls grew out to be so needy, suffocating yet you get cut off your words once he grabs your chin. a thumb swipes against the tiny drool seeping down the corner of your mouth.

“don’t hide from me.” he murmurs. he’s real slow with his movements against you, slow and steady.

his bare chest presses against you, and he’s so hot, his heat radiates against your skin, almost as if he was sticking against you. “don’t cover that pretty face. matter of fact,” and then he pistons his thrusts—a hand running up and down your waist, squelches of your cunt ringing through your ears like a bell. “moan in my mouth. gimme a little kiss,” and then he teasingly puts a finger against his lips. “riiiight here, baby.”

his body jerks against yours and gojo brings you into a deep kiss once you lean. his tongue traces against yours, heaving before he starts moaning into your mouth from your sweetened taste.

“sweet girl,” he’d grunt, you could feel his erectness practically plug you full. whilst gojo’s chest pressed against yours, he started to grind slowly against you. your lips parted a bit, eliciting a needy moan from your throat.

it was the way your legs trapped his slim waist, easily locking around. you gasped — feeling gojo move your hand from your face, pinning them towards the sides, and you felt that dumb coy smile of his tug against the corners of his lips.

he smiles at how you start to cover your mouth again, but he moves your hand away. “so damn shy for nooo reason,” he teases. with a blindfold half on, gojo he playfully tugs on the band, clicking his tongue with a swift head shake. “ah ah, i wanna hear you.”

and you grew out to be more flustered the minute he pulls away from kissing. strands of spit depart your lips and his. leaning into your neck to softly, gojo nibbles against your skin all to just to drag out more noises from you.

“think ‘m gonna laugh at your orgasm or somethin’?” he whispers against your skin, still buried deep—inches inside your pussy that gripped and clamped down on him before he giggles at the way you nod. “aw. i won’t do that. ‘m not that mean.”

“promise?” you mumbled.

his thrusts, so fulfilling. it was so deep, reaching directly into those spots to make you your brain short circuit. swallowing thickly, you end up cutely tugging on his arm.

he chuckles. “oh i promise, baby,” and then he plants a kiss near your nose—cheek—then near the corner of your mouth, finally locking his fingers with yours. “be as loud as you want, if it helps, i’ll be loud with you,” and then he runs a hand down his back. “just…not too loud because it’ll be the seventh time the erm…neighbors complain about us, heheh.”

★ SUKUNA RYŌMEN.

“what’s with you?” he raises a dark brow, your back’s being pressed against his chest.

riding him in reverse and you’re so quiet….

dragging a few nails lightly against his thigh and he gives the right side of your neck a few playful bites. “you’re not all whiney like ya usually are.”

his words were so smooth and sly against your neck, delicately brushing against your skin.

he throbs inside you, and you clamp and clamp down on him. you’re so dizzy—yet you seclude your moans by pressing your glossed lips together, only cute faint soft mutters of moans slipping out here and there.

“…woman,” he grunts, pausing your hips, your eyes briefly widen at the feeling of sukuna’s big hands hold your waist in place—a single shift of his thigh, and you felt his girth expand deep inside your walls. “aw don’t don’t hide from me now,” he smiles, a mere softness gliding against his deep tone.

you started to cover your face with your hands from how embarrassed you were—yet sukuna grabs your hands and chuckles. the way the tips of his fingers graze against you make you tingle. you pulsed so much—it got you off to where you felt yourself start to salivate, all from his touch and words.

“you know better than to not hide your pretty voice,” he murmurs, softly sinking his canines into your neck. nibble after nibble, you panted. a whimper leaves your throat once he starts to bounce his thigh. “or…should i stop?”

“n—no,” you choked out, a swift head shake. the way he softly sucks against your skin, gentle fangs softly seeping into your neck before giving your neck a few sweet kisses. “kuna- don’t stop.”

“i would,” he hums with a chortle. deep voice full of smug and satirize. and his cock was just idle against you. at this point you were cockwarming him, and you wanted to move but he had your hips still. “but i guess someone thought it was a good idea to hide their pretty moans from me.”

he was such a tease—you felt yourself burn up once he drags a a hand down between your legs to rub a few good circles against your clit, maneuvering his fingers, and you’re so wet….

it was sloppy.

squelch after squelch. you whimpered, gripping onto his hand to make him rub harder but then he chuckles, lightly swatting your hand away. “oh…?you like that? or you’d prefer for me to finish?”

“f-finish, ‘kuna..”

“then moan for me,” he whispers, giving your skin a soft suck. sukuna starts to bounce his thigh again and you whine. nails piercing into his thighs, you hit your lip before letting off a moan. “see, that wasn’t so hard, now was it, brat,” and he helps you start to grind your hips against him. reaching so deep, your head fell back against him and he lowly guffaws. “yeah, be loud. don’t care who here’s, ‘s just you and me.”

★ GETO SUGURU.

he’d be propped up in between your legs, eating you out like a starved man. you have the courtesy of tying his long, pretty hair back for him.

a few minutes had past yet he was taking his precious time, pressing sweet kisses against your cunt.

you felt yourself throb and flutter, gripping onto his hair and he has a smile.

“love pullin’ on my hair, huh?” he mutters, swiping a thumb against your slit. you happily coat him with your slick than ran down his chin. you gave him a pathetic nod, and you shiver, lips parting from the way geto presses his tongue against your labia — giving it lick after lick.

geto’s raises a brow at the way you’re covering your mouth with a hand, just barely keeping eye contact with him.

he plants a chaste kiss against your pussy before pausing briefly. breaking himself away and now you pout. “…hey,” he murmurs, a coy cunning voice. “stop that, baby.”

“s-stop what?” you hitched, your legs feeling warm. he was so sloppy with his tongue, yet gentle.

“girl, you know what i’m talking about.” a subtle eye-roll, geto sits up from between your legs. his tone was now filled with playfulness yet a bit of sass.

you stare down at him, a few strands occluding his view of vision.

tightly holding onto his hair, he stares at your pussy then at you.

“you’re being all timid and shy. c’mon, ‘s just me. i wanna hear how good i make you feel,” and then he slowly lays his tongue flat against your cunt. “…so��let….me,” he paused between speech. using two fingers to lightly spread open your folds, geto laps his tongue again to taste your sweet. “—finish my meal, and lemme hear you.”

“o-okay.” you stuttered. gritting your teeth for a split second, your legs felt numb and not even moments later.

he ends up coaxing yet another orgasm out of you, your mind goes blank. you were so loud.

he couldn’t help but chuckle at you, how cute you were. with the way your body jerked and squirmed all because of his tongue.

geto gives your pussy a good suck, he knows all the right spots to swirl and run his tongue across.

“there it is,” he hums, and his head goes forward before you yank a bit too hard between your legs. “e-easy, sweetheart. don’t pull my hair out now.”

★ FUSHIGURO TOJI.

toji grunts — two rough hands attached to your waist as he’s got your head pressed against the mattress. you’re biting the sheets with your teeth, strained moans being secluded entirely and toji immediately notices, you feel the curve of his dick throb against you. it was so good, your eyes rolled all the way back, toji’s got your wrists in a good hold before he pauses his sloppy thrusts.

“hmph.”

“w-why’d you stop..” you spat out, your voice was a bit shaky and muffled….solely from the way your teeth tugged against the sheets.

toji’s stubborn and doesn’t reply, and instead, he makes you move your ass up just a bit—yet he pulls out, and you gasp at the feeling of him just rubbing his leaky plump tip against your inner folds.

a few inches and he'd be right back in. you cringed. and you started to whine, face down and ass up, your body felt so hot and tingly.

“t-tojiiii..”

“w-whattt..”

he mocks your voice, and you let off a frustrated sigh, he butchers your tone in the most dramatic way. you don’t even sound like that. “aw, getting frustrated, ey? how come y’er biting the sheets. ya don’t want me to hear you or somethin’—?”

your eyebrows contorted together, and you huffed out a needy breath, back starting to arch idly. “no,” and you feel the tips of your ears grow hot at a scorching temperature—his tip, it was rounded and fat, just swiping against your folds. with just a bit of a push he’d be back inside, but he kept sliding out. “toji, f-finish…finish fucking me.”

“say please.”

you pout, your cheek pressing into the mattress now—desperately craving him to continue. “please…”

“silly girl. ya forgot to say pretty please.”

“toji….” you moaned, craving to feel him again, and he caressed his fingers against your ass, teasing you—a single playful click of his tongue, and he’s got you wrapped around his finger. he starts to make you rollick and move your hips against him, still holding your hips. you grumbled, finally letting off a moan—just wanting him to not tease and finish. “pretty please.”

“good girl,” he purrs softly, dipping his hips against you just slightly before you sit your head up. “now now, lie back,” he mutters, and he starts to go back inside again, a good squeeze and fit and you let off a soft whine once his cock hits there.

you’re seeing blanks, mouth open and all, you whimper before you start getting louder. “there we go….use that whiney voice, jus’ like ya always have, doll.”

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luveline · 8 months

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I NEEEEEED MORE STRIPPER!READER X SPENCER

fem, 1.2k

You and Spencer aren't dating, but he thinks you might be in the before.

"You're home!" you say, clambering at the door to slip out of your shoes. You throw yourself at him as soon as you're close enough, the salted caramel and sandalwood of your new perfume washing over him. "You're here! I missed you."

Spencer tries not to blush. He wishes you weren't so close —his hair is lank from two days unwashed, his five o'clock shadow obvious and embarrassing. If you notice anything unappealing about him you don't give the slightest inclination, your arms crossing over his back as you drive your face into his neck.

"I can't believe how much I missed you, Dr. Reid," you say warmly.

"I missed you too." Morgan would laugh at him for being this earnest, maybe comment on his lack of charisma, but Spencer doesn't know how else to show that he's interested beyond sincerity.

You step back but work your hands up his neck and into his hair, raking it away from his cheeks. "That's better. I can see you better now."

Spencer thought he remembered only horrible things from being a teenager, but he remembers this feeling, sweaty-palmed, heart-racing want. You tilt his head gently one way and then the other like you're following the motion of a wave, fingertips scratching in his hair, the sensation stirring the very pit of his stomach. No trace of tiredness remains on your face, only spritely joy to see him.

"That feels nice," he confesses. He's not weird about it, more friendly.

Your aswering grin tells him he nailed the casualness he was aiming for.

"You've been working hard," you say, tucking his hair behind his ears and dusting down his shoulders, "I can tell. You look tired."

"You don't. Short shift?"

"Is it weird that bad weather genuinely keeps people home? I guess they prefer their wives when it's cold."

"No, really? Who could ever pick the woman they married over you and those silver shorts?" he teases, peeling out of his sweater.

The shirt underneath is rumpled, but he doesn't care about that. Anything to be seen between you has been seen. Spencer has, unquestionably, seen you half naked. You've seen him in his boxers, so you're just about square. "Idiots, all of them."

You're staying with him again while a security company fits your apartment with the appropriate trappings. Or, that was the initial reason. Spencer went with you to assess after it was done, discovering black mould in the corner of your bedroom and spreading its evil way across the bathroom ceiling.

What is that? he asked, knowing what it was, hoping you'd at least pretend to be concerned.

That's fifty bucks off a month, Spence. Don't look so horrified.

"I missed you," you say for the third time in as many minutes. "And I hoped you'd be home, so I brought Chinese food for two."

You and Spencer change into pyjamas, and it's cliche but whatever, you look beautiful undone —he's not stupid enough to lie to himself about how he feels when you're wearing your little outfits, but he prefers this side of you a thousand times over because you like it better. You wear your prized baseball tee, white with blue sleeves, and a pair of sweatpants pushed up high on one leg while you ice your sore knee. He sits cross legged opposite, jabbing his chopsticks into one of your crispy spring rolls just to watch you gasp.

"Can I ask you something too personal?"

You rub down the length of your naked calf, sighing as some of the tension releases. You're more bruise than girl lately, splodges of tender skin patterning the inside. "What don't you know about me, at this point?" you ask.

Like it's a good thing. Like you're glad for it.

"Are you making enough money?" he asks.

You steal back your spring roll, answering him through rice paper and greens, "Kind of. Not tonight, but enough for dinner. I'll be okay."

"Did you think about it?"

You shovel through your waxy box of rice, shrugging. "I thought about it, but… it's not realistic. What office would take me? What drug store?"

"I could loan you the money while you apprentice, and get some experience, you could go back to school–" He says it all in a rush and you still knock him down.

"It's real sweet of you, Spence, it is, but I couldn't let you do that. That makes me your charity case, and not your friend."

"What else do you do for the people you care about?" he asks. Let them stay at a job they don't like, even if they're good at it, one that puts them statistically at higher risk for femicide or assault?

"I wouldn't need a loan, Spencer, I'd need more than you have," you say gently. "I'd have to start my life from scratch. How would I pay rent? You couldn't afford to keep us both."

"You could stay with me again."

You shake your head. "You're the best friend I've ever had, which is why I'm saying no."

He doesn't get what you mean, but you finish your dinner and help him clean up. He more than trusts you to stay here alone while he's on a case, you've honestly left it in better condition than you found it, and he insists you sleep in his bed again while you're here.

"Don't be silly," you say, throwing a sheet out over the couch. "This is your place. You need to sleep in your own bed."

The disaster is that it smells like you. Spencer says goodnight to you reluctantly and leaves you on the couch with every throw blanket he owns, climbing into his own bed and pulling the comforter up to his nose. He imagines you here at night, your body wash still clinging to your skin from a late night shower, your hand tucked under his pillow. There are so many things he'd like to give you, if you'd just let him.

He spends a quiet thirty minutes like that, missing the warmth of your skin and your casual touching, wishing he could offer you the fresh start you desire, even if it meant he wasn't involved.

The couch springs creak as you toss and turn, the sound finding it's way down the short hall from the living room slash kitchen to his bedroom. Hesitant, Spencer shifts in bed, hitting that one coil in his mattress just right, the twang resounding.

You appear in his doorway with your borrowed pillows crushed to your chest not long after that. You don't need to ask, Spencer doesn't need to answer. He can't give you everything that you want, but he can give you a quiet, comfortable night next to someone who loves you.

Ever well-tempered, you slip into the sheets beside him and curl up toward him, your fingertips brushing his side. You don't look at him in the dark, but you mumble sleepily, fingers twitching, "Night, Spence."

You're out like a light.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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rebelfell · 7 months

Text

steve harrington x virgin!reader

Started writing about a nerdy/loser reader getting a job at a summer camp alongside the former king of her former high-school. But only bit I really liked was this piece of smut.

cw: bigdick!steve has entered the chat, fingering, oral (fem receiving), first time piv (unprotected, ‘cos I didn’t describe the condom, but he's wearing one and so should you)

18+, MDNI ︱ 1.4k

“Just, ah…” You winced slightly as the tip of his head pressed at your entrance. “Go slow?”

Steve paused, heavy lidded eyes coming up to meet yours. “Wait, are you a…have you never?”

You watched the reality of your virginity dawn slowly on his face, and squirmed slightly in his arms as you tried to refocus his attention.

“It’s fine, Steve. Don’t worry about it.”

The pressure of his length pushing against your core rescinds as he pulls away and you can’t help the petulant sight that falls from your chest.

Figures, you thought bitterly.

But Steve kept his mouth close. He littered your jaw and neck with kisses, his hands kneading your waist as he kneeled slowly and his lips continued their journey downwards. He wove a serpentine pattern across your chest, over the swell of your breasts, briefly sucking one nipple into his hot mouth while he rolled the other between his thumb and forefinger. You sighed pleasurably at the feeling and vibrations rippled across you as he hummed around your peaked bud before pulling off with a lewd pop. His eyes watched for your reaction, dark and hungry as he kissed down your sternum and carefully spread your legs further to make space for him.

“Steve, wh-what are you—”

“Just want you to be ready,” he murmured, lips skimming over your navel. “Don’t want it to hurt.”

He brought his fingers to your entrance, lazily circling it with them, swirling lightly all around it, brushing your inner thighs as he did. You closed your eyes and tipped back your head, losing yourself in the sensations of Steve’s slow, gradual build. It feels so…nice.

He kissed tentatively at the apex of your thighs, nose pressing into your mound, and internally you cringed at the thought of what you must look like down there. You couldn’t very well shave regularly when you were sharing the showers with twenty other counselors and could count on maybe a solid six minutes of hot water. And in a million years you wouldn’t have been able to anticipate this. So you almost certainly weren’t living up to King Steve’s standards.

Steve said nothing, though. If anything, he only buried his face further in the down of your hair, inhaling your scent like it was his dying breath. The wet heat of his tongue surprised you as he licked a fat stripe through your folds and actually moaned, the sound deep and rumbly in his chest.

“Fuck,” he whispered, soft and reverent as a prayer. “You taste like…summer.”

His grip tightened on your thighs, tugging you closer, smothering his face in your center, licking and sucking at you eagerly, ravenously. His tongue chased off any glimmer of insecurity you might have felt, his enthusiasm evident in the noises that filled the room.

A tingling feeling licks its way up your body, making your cheeks and chest and ears burn hot. Your hands flexed, needing something to hold onto for fear you’ll float away untethered into the ether. With one, you palmed at your breast, missing how it had felt when Steve squeezed them over your staff shirt. The other found its way to twist itself into floppy, caramel-tinged tresses.

“You can pull it if you want,” he teased, the words muffled by your cunt. “I can take it.”

He moaned instantly at the sharp tug you gave, dragging his face against your heat so his nose stroked your clit as you rolled your hips forward.

“Oh, fuck yes,” he growled. “That’s right, baby, ride my face. Make me make you come.”

You rolled your hips again, desperately chasing an end you couldn’t even see you were so lost in the forest of your feelings. Steve lips sealed around your clit, sucking it with intention as he brought his fingers back up. At last, he breached your entrance, slipping one in easily and following it close with a second that made you writhe at the gentle stretch.

The pumped in and out of you at a pace just slow enough to be torture, curling upwards and toying with that spot inside you that had you gushing around his fingers. You’re barely conscious as waves of pleasure rushed across you, chest shuddering with your moans as you gripped at him desperately. His tongue soothes your swollen flesh as he coaxes you through your orgasm, helping you ride it out to the very last second.

In more ways than one, you’re grateful for the warm-up when Steve stood between your legs and brought the head of his cock back to your entrance. Is it at all possible he’s gotten bigger?

He glided it through your folds—once, twice, three times—letting the ridges catch on your clit and making you keen with each too-brief pass. He held it at the base and lifted it slightly, only to let it drop and jolt you as it slapped heavy against your dripping pussy. A dark chuckle fell from his lips at the way your eyes bulged and you gasped at the feeling, not ready for the impact.

And then, in the kind of contrast that rivaled Jekyll and Hyde, he leaned over you and spoke sweetly in your ear as he aligned with you.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

You nodded, too choked up to answer, pinching your eyes closed and bracing yourself to finally feel him. It doesn’t happen, though. He leaned in closer, a hand coming up to cup the side of your face as he lowered his voice to a whisper.

“Hey…look at me.”

Your eyes flew open to find his face hovering inches over yours. The tip of his nose brushed your own and you could practically count his long, dark lashes that fanned around mossy eyes that were almost black in the moonlight. Pieces of his long hair fell forward, the ends of it tickling your face before he pushed it back with his hand. The moles and freckles that dusted his tanned skin were more numerous than the stars in the sky you could see through his cabin’s windows.

“If you want this, you need to tell me so.”

His voice is firm, unyielding, but it’s not mean. Truly, you believed if you were to push him away and tell him you’d changed your mind, he would just tuck himself back into his shorts and be on his way. Except you wouldn’t ever do that. Because, fuck did you want him so bad.

“I want it,” you whispered. “I want you.”

It’s all the invitation he needs.

The feeling of him finally pressing inside is intense, but not so overwhelming that it makes you whine or want to cry out. He goes slow, stretching you methodically as you take him inch by inch. And each time you think he must be buried to the hilt by now, you find there’s another stretch, another inch he can push inside. It has your chest heaving with each one.

“Too much?” he asked as his gaze flicked down to study your face.

“N-no,” you lied, legs shaking from the effort of holding them open.

As though reading your mind, Steve gripped behind your knees and pushed your thighs up towards your chest, holding them there for you. The new angle gives him enough purchase to push in deeper still, making your back arch and your breath punch out in relief.

“We’re so close, baby,” he huffed, hair falling forward again, dusting his brow that’s damp with sweat in the sticky, humid air. “You’re taking me so well, fucking sucking me in.”

With his words, you can almost feel your walls trying to engulf him. They burn from that last blissful stretch until he’s seated fully inside, his pelvis grinding against yours. The fullness you feel is exquisite. By all accounts, it shouldn’t work. It shouldn’t fit. It shouldn’t be so right.

You pictured him pressing on your other organs; twisting up your insides; the way he’ll demolish you as soon as he starts moving. Just the thought has you growing wetter by the second.

“Shit, look at you,” he chuckled, staring down at where your bodies meet, almost in awe. “Can’t fucking believe it…”

If you were being honest, neither could you. Part of you is afraid to breathe, convinced one wrong move will rupture something. But maybe even moreso, you’re dying to find out if it will.

“Okay, Harrington,” you sighed, shooting him a challenging smirk. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem reader #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington one shot #steve stranger things

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deadghosy · 4 months

Note

Hey!! I have a request! Could you do the hazbin hotel characters and fem! CatNap reader! I know CatNap is a boy but I would like to see what kind of head canons they would have for a female version of CatNap. Also maybe reader would love chasing things around since cats do that?

HAZBIN HOTEL X FEM CATNAP!READER HEADCANNONS

prompt: you are female resident who helps sinners with insomnia

OKAY FIRST OFF! YOU DEFINITELY STILL SMELL LIKE VANILLA AND LAVENDER!🦆 NO ONE CAN ARGUE ABOUT THIS TO ME 😭

What I headcannon is kinda cartoony as reader has her legs cross as she just nods listening to a sinner’s sleep problem as she is just wearing glasses and a vest. Dead ass she just knocks them out like. “Problem solved!”

Charlie made you a room so residents and sinners could come in and have you help them sleep. Like either you knock them out and walk away. Or you actually stop being a lazy mofo and help them personally.

I headcannon based on the fluffy plush bodies that reader is still flat like the male catnap, cause obviously she doesn’t have a chest just like the plush body of Bobby bearhug. That’s basically how I imagine reader’s body is with her being like a little more skinny but definitely having trouble with people asking what her gender is.

“I’m a fucking cat, that’s what I am.” Is what reader would say irritated as it’s obvious in her feminine/decent voice.

Sassy catnap!reader is a goal as you would literally just do shit for shits and giggles😭✨🔥

Headcannon you have a purple vest with a white dress shirt and a black or white skirt with a few moon patterns on it while the color of your dress shirt as a moon pendent💗🦆

You straight up knocked a person out with your red smoke because they had sexualized you during the session and all you had to say was. “Oh really? Count to three…” “count to wh-” immediate knocked out as they fell face first from the chair as you smile with a full grin.

You used your claws to cut open a piece of candy for nifty as she hugs you and walked away happy. You love helping….

Alastor ran from you as you were chasing after him like a predator because he said he doesn’t need sleep…okay so imagine this….

You are sneaking like a lion behind Alastor as he drinks tea and he is like “I feel watched” with a sweatdropped and next thing people see in the halls is you grinning as you drag a motionless Alastor who still holds his tea up.

You wrapped your tail around Charlie to help her put up a banner as you file your claws as it was time to trim them. Like I imagine that as vaggie is like “What.” With a blank confused face seeing her girlfriend get lifted by a 8ft tall female cat

I can see reader having those teas that help people to sleep just incase they don’t like being passed out “force”. So you just make them tea as you listen to them rant as they fall asleep

Imagine reader reading a book as Lucifer is having a hyper moment behind her as she just peacefully reads….

It gives off “calm friend x hyper friend” vibes

Lucifer had one time patted you, and kept petting you until you purred so he can feel relaxed. He likes your purrs.

The duck king definitely has a picture of you purring on his lap…he even has it as his wallpaper kinda because of how soft and good smelling your fur is

OOOH IMAGINE YOU AND ANGEL HAVING A FASHION SHOW IN HIS ROOM💗🦆

Angel definitely gets you some nice clothes to match your aesthetic or purple clothing with white and cream.

You carry nifty in your mouth as if she was your kit….its cute okay…like niffty straight up smile as you hold her like your own kitten.

“This is ma mom now!” Nifty says happily as you just walk around with the back of her dress in your mouth.

Cherri bomb was good about you by Angel dust as Angel had put an image of how cool and badass you are at not following the rules. She always tries to persuade you into giving her your red smoke to make bombs out of it. SHE ONLY WANTS TO CAUSE DESTRUCTION!!!🦆‼️

Sir Pentious brings his egg boiz to you when they can’t sleep so you can use your red smoke on them. They snuggle in your purple fur as you just play a lullaby for them

I imagine you and husk purring by each other out of no where confused…but it’s because of your peaceful scent installed in your fur and body.

You still have your signature cocky smile before you knock a bitch out with the gas coming from your mouth.

I can see how you have a moon ring as [favorite hazbin hotel character] has a sun ring to show off your friendship with them

Imagine how reader gets groomed by the whole hazbin hotel crew because of their 8ft tall frame…there’s a lot of extra work in grooming your fur.

You definitely have those candles as well with that lavender smell with hint of vanilla. You have so much aromatherapy stuff for people. You might as well be the aroma goddess-

I headcannon you using your demon form (basically that form where the player sees catnap as a skinny monster) to scare people 😭 you’re an asshole as I imagine Angel getting ready for his morning to only see you behind the shower curtain with a creepy smile

Angel screamed and ran out the room looking crazy…..😭 Charlie found out and made you apologize to Angel as he was locked in his room..

He’s definitely not going to the bathroom alone-

Just like my other catnap! Reader, you definitely walk around slowly but stealthy releasing that poppy gas just incase a resident or your friends try sneaking out. “It’s time for bed…” you says quietly as you move smoothly around the hotel hallways

Just like before, Lucifer was scared of you until you showed him you can be quite the loving person you can be. Like Lucifer will lay on your body for comfort if he was getting busy from paper work in his office.

I can imagine Angel trying to get you to use your gas on Valentino and you’re like “sure” as you put a jar to your mouth and release it and give it to Angel.

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senseichaos · 4 months

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.... Consensual somnophilia w/ luci? 🥺👉👈

As you wish, my lovely anon and non-anon!

_____

IMAGINE

(longer imagine)

A thing Lucifer has always been into, with and without your knowledge is Somnophilia. The idea that he could use you whilst you lay asleep beneath him.

At first Lucifer was not exactly proud of this fact though, so for the first years of your relationship he said nothing about it. His daddy kink? Yeah he'll tell you about that. But for some reason this specific kink was just.. so embarrassing to him.

Until one day when you were the one to admit you like the idea of being fucked in your sleep, and you didn't miss the sparkling in Lucifers red irises. In a moment he was laughing about how stupid he was for thinking you would be weirded out by this kink- especially when you've been together for 3 years at this point.

So you both made a system. Whenever you went to sleep with his favorite shirt of yours, an oversized pink shirt with a duck in the middle, he was allowed to use you.

And today is the first day you've worn it. Lucifer was just washing up after your dinner and came back to your figure half beneath the covers wearing that pink duck shirt. Rather immediately that feeling of arousal came over him like a sound wave. One moment he was fine, the other moment his cock is hardening from arousal.

Slowly he crawls onto the red sheets, eyeing your thigh as it pokes from the covers above you. He has to be careful about this, because if it's up to him he doesn't want you to awaken until his cock is nestled inside of you.

He pulls the sheets from you carefully, thanking the gods that you are laying on your back so the act will be easier. Fuck he can't even begin to take his eyes from you. You aren't wearing any pants! Pussy nice and ready for him as if you had fingered yourself just before you fell asleep, which he assumes you did judging from the wetness on the sheets beneath you.

His duckling even readied herself for him! He could almost imagine you fingering yourself open for him, scissoring your fingers inside of yourself as your wetness coats your fingers, biting your lip as you try your hardest to keep your moans quiet so you don't spoil the surprise. Oh, how he doesn't deserve this from you. He doesn't deserve to have you laying here fast asleep ready for his cock. But he'll take what he's being given from you because he needs it more than he likes to admit.

"My precious duckling, awe.. how cute," He says to your sleeping figure, dragging his hand through his hair as he looks down at the obvious erection in his trousers. Grinning to himself he unbuttons his trousers and lowers the fly down, before pulling them off completely and discarding them across the room (happening to land on a pile of his rubber ducks).

Then he removes his shirt, unbuttoning it and slowly letting it fall off himself to the floor next to the bed.

All that is left is the blue boxers with the rubber duck pattern across it, obvious erection poking into the fabric. It almost hurts, the hardness of his cock poking so harshly into the right fabric of his boxers.

He dips his hand into the fabric and wraps his hand around his shaft, pulling it from his boxers with a satisfying 'plap' against his abdomen. He should really take his boxers off too, and he knows this. But he can't stop himself anymore. You're in your most pliant state, so in a rash and quick movement he places one hand next to your head to hold himself up whilst the other positions his shaft into you.

In a slow push he sinks his shaft into you, watching your soft sleeping face as it reacts to the pressure of him inside of you. He places a soft hand at your hip, massaging the skin hypnotically as he continues to push his hips forward until his entire length is buried to the hilt inside of your tight hole.

He can't conceal that heavy groan that leaves him, his eyes completely set onto your face. That pretty fucking face of yours as he ruins it.

He serves you a harsh thrust, immediately setting a ravenous and hungry pace with his hips. He can't help it, watching your face as it awakens with a gasp, lashes fluttering as you familiarize yourself with your surroundings and the situation you're in.

"Gh, daddy.." you whimper, eyes soft and teary as you look up to his own. He smiles softly, yet doesn't break his thrusts as he purrs into your ear: "Shh shh, my duckling. Go back to sleep, daddy will be done soon he pwomises," he finishes his sentence with a teasing cute tone, giving you a short grind before going straight back to those hard and almost painful thrusts.

He watches as you nod softly, closing your eyes and letting yourself relax under his hand. Each thrust sends you into a sort of trance, especially when being awoken to daddy's cock fucking into you at such a pace.

"Fuck, my good little duckling. Hm? Yeah, so good letting daddy use you like this," he says, sharp teethed smile glinting with his dominant demeanor. You only reply with a small tired whimper, slightly strangled under the pleasure he gives you.

The hand he has on your hip quickly moves to your thigh, pushing it down so it's pressed against yourself in such a way to give him more leverage with his thrusts. He watches your brows furrow tiredly, a gasp for air coming from your cute plush lips. The pleasure is too much for you, and you are beginning to feel that knot inside you coil so hard it begs to release.

"cum.. please, daddy.. m' need to cum," you beg at his mercy, not opening your eyes and whispering it so quietly Lucifer is happy he heard you at all beneath the sounds of his skin against your own.

"Cum for me, cum on Daddy's cock duckling. Do it," he says, thrusting slightly quicker as you let out a strangled whine. You release strongly, pussy clenching around him so hard his own orgasm begs to release itself.

"Fuck, so good and sleepy for me, hm? Daddy's gonna cum now, okay? Yeah," He says, hardly even thinking about his words as his eyes flutter closed with pleasure, giving you one last thrust before he cums, grinding himself into you as he empties into you.

"good, duckling.. shit.."

But you'd already fallen back asleep. He wonders if he can go again.

#proship #senseichaos #antishippers dni #senseichaosdrabbles #proship fanfiction #hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader hazbin #lucifer x reader smut #lucifer imagine #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #lucifer

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rogueddie · 7 months

Text

Eddie couldn't take his eyes off of the ugliest, evil looking polo top that he's ever had the misfortune to lay his eyes upon. It's everything he hates in one piece of clothing, so horrible that he'd gagged at it when he'd first seen it.

His friends had laughed, agreeing that the top is an abomination and crime against humanity.

But Eddie couldn't stop looking at it.

It's the exact type of thing that Steve would wear. It's the type of thing he would love and brag about.

Even though the party, with the help of Robin, have been trying to 'fix' Steve and his taste. They're currently targetting his wardrobe and they're almost wearing him down enough to get him to stop wearing so many polos.

It's making Eddie feel... conflicted.

He agrees that Steves taste is horrible. He listens to bad pop music most of the time, he has no sense of fashion and loves romance so much that he thinks awful rom-coms are the height of cinema.

But it's Steve. Those things are what make him so... Steve.

He sneaks back to the top when his friends aren't looking, crouching behind racks to get to the till and quickly buy it. He buries it in the bottom of his bag, ignoring the bored and judgemental look the staff are giving him.

"There you are," Gareth squints at him when he rejoins them. "Where did you go?"

"Fainted," he sneers, throwing an arm around Jeffs shoulders. "All these neons and pop are making me dizzy."

They laugh, quickly moving on.

After dropping them off, he goes straight to Steves house. He doesn't want the ugly shirt on his person longer than necessary and the last thing he needs is someone finding it in his closet.

He nearly cheers when he pulls up to Steves house and his parents car isn't parked out front.

They'd only caught him in their house once, when they'd come home early, and he's sure he only escaped with his life because the entire party was there too.

"Eddie?" Steve frowns when he opens the door. "What are you doing here? Are you ok?"

"Yeah, fine, just..." he huffs, rubbing his eyes. He digs through the bag, grabbing the offending shirt, and throwing it at Steve. "Got you that. I thought- whatever. There. Good night."

"Woah, woah," Steve quickly catches his arm. "It's ok, man. If the others ask then I'll say I got it. It's... this is really nice, Eds."

"It's ugly."

"Sure," Steve snorts, looking back to the shirt. "But it's definitely my style. This really means a lot to me. I think it looks cool."

"Uh, yeah, I guessed," Eddie shifts, squirming with how genuine Steve is being. "It's just a polo."

"No, it's not. It's special to me."

"Right, because you think that pattern is 'so-"

"You saw it and thought of me. Like, you hate it, but you knew I'd like it and... it just means a lot to me, that you're thinking of me."

"Alright, it's just a shirt, calm down."

"No, I don't think I will," Steve gently tugs him inside so he can shut the door. "I get it if this is difficult for you but I'm getting impatient."

"If- what?"

"Do you need me to make the first move? Or- is this a move? Is your love language gift giving or something?"

"You've lost me."

Steve huffs, putting his hands on his hips and giving Eddie a look that he can only describe as 'disappointed parent'.

"We've been flirting for months and you haven't done anything about it." Steve falters quickly when he sees the shock on Eddies face. "Or... am I missing something? Is it the whole, like... keeping it secret thing? Because I don't mind! It's not safe to be out in Hawkins, I know, and I'm not expecting a big date at-"

"You knew that I was flirting with you," Eddie interrupts. "This whole time?"

"Well, yeah, I was also flirting with you."

Eddie stares at him for a moment. "And you've been waiting for me to make a move on you?"

"Exactly. Was I not being obvious enough? I didn't want to out you or anything..."

"No... in retrospect you were being very clear. All of Robins cryptic advice makes so much sense now. Oh, God, even Wayne figured it out."

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #ficlet #alittlelaughtime

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harmonictechnicality · 1 year

Text

Eddie develops a strange habit after sex. It’s not exactly cute or romantic or nice. Nothing bad either. It’s just… well, Steve isn’t too sure what it is. But every time, it’s the same damn thing.

He collapses onto Steve’s chest and says:

“My boyfriend is a cyborg.”

Usually, Steve is still recovering from the fucking downpour of post-orgasm endorphins. So he doesn’t question it. Hell, he stopped challenging Eddie’s tolerance to geek out months ago. Dude holds fantasy knowledge in his brain better than he holds his liquor.

Which is saying a lot.

Anyways, Steve never has the mental capacity to react or respond. Instead, he runs his fingers through Eddie’s sweat-soaked hair for awhile. Scratches out little patterns on his scalp because it always makes Eddie go limp. Quiet.

Quiet is a rarity for him. And while Steve is totally weak for Eddie’s chattiness, the quiet can be nice too.

The only reason Steve finally decides to ask about it is because Eddie slips up. Says it before they have sex.

Steve is against the bedroom door, his nails dragging down Eddie’s back. God, he loves this kind of kissing. The lung draining kind. The type that’s sort of filthy from all the heat and grinding.

Eddie hasn’t marked him up this bad since that time someone at work noticed his neck. Asked if Steve was having an allergic reaction during an office-wide meeting.

And this is going to be even worse. Steve can tell by the sounds and the soft pricks of Eddie’s teeth. He can tell by how long Eddie spends over each spot, like the bruising skin needs more attention than the rest of him. Like licking them over will make the colors last longer.

The damage has been done. Really no point in stopping him when it feels so fucking good. Steve forgets to worry about how mauled he’s gonna look tomorrow because his head is swimming with Eddie’s lips on his neck. His collarbone. His chest.

That’s when it happens. That’s when Eddie’s strange habit makes an early appearance.

He kisses over the blistery mess he made, practically growls the words out this time:

“My boyfriend is a cyborg.”

“Okay, time out.” Steve says. Heaves some air back into his lungs. Pulls Eddie’s face up before he can continue making Steve look like goddamn target practice.

Eddie blinks a few times. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” Gonna have to wear fucking high-collared shirts all week, but whatever.

He’ll bring that up some other time. “Why do you keep saying that?”

“Saying what?”

“That… thing.” Steve barely can spit it out. It’s like his throat is physically rejecting the nerdy shit he’s about to say. “You keep calling me… a cyborg or something.”

“Oh that.” Eddie sighs. Casually shrugs to one side. “It’s your fault actually.”

“How is it my fault? I don’t even know what fucking language you’re speaking.”

Eddie walks over to the bed, chanting Steve’s name over and over. Definitely not in the way Steve prefers him to chant his name. Very un-sexy chanting.

“Remember that day you asked me to grab your car keys?” He asks, patting the bed for Steve to join him.

No. “Kinda?”

Steve hesitates before walking over. He didn’t necessarily wanna stop their primal makeout session. But it was bound to lead to the bed at some point, so…

Just not like this. Not talking while fully clothed. Blech.

He sits next to Eddie. Hands awkwardly fidgeting in his lap.

“Well, I couldn’t find them.” Eddie admits. “So I ended up going through your desk drawers.”

Of course he did. Perpetual snooper.

“Ended up finding a binder full of medical records.”

Well shit.

Steve’s throat tightens. Swells around the sudden guilt he feels for keeping this from Eddie.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had a metal plate in your head?”

“Dunno. Hardly even remember it.” That’s only partly true. Steve doesn’t remember the surgery or much of the recovery process. He was only a kid when it happened.

But he does remember the hospital smells. He remembers the sounds of his IV bag dripping throughout the night. All the sensory indicators are still fresh in his mind.

“Well, that’s why. You're part-machine.” Eddie points to Steve’s head, expression softening. “And every time we fuck around, I think about your bionic skull. And how glad I am that it keeps your brain from leaking out when I bend you over the way you like it best.”

Steve laughs. The jokes help lighten the mood. Not enough to replace it entirely, but enough for it to be easy to swallow again.

They’re both quiet as they get ready for bed, folding the covers down. And yeah, sometimes quiet can be nice. Just maybe not right now.

“Hey, Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

Steve stares hard at the pillows. “Are cyborgs like… cool?”

Eddie pauses for a moment, then hops onto the bed. Starts crawling over to Steve with a smug grin. He lifts up to meet Steve’s lips. Kisses him sweeter than normal. Lighter. Starts nodding his head mid-kiss, keeps nodding as he breaks away.

“Yeah, babe. Cyborgs are so fucking cool.”

#steddie #steddie fic #hi it's very late and this is very short #but I had to get it out before sleeps so here you go #so apologies if it's riddled with mistakes #I just missed writing lovebites #and this is the hc that keeps me sane knowing how many concussions Steve has had #like this is how he keeps recovering so quickly from all of them idkidk #okay please enjoy and have nice day xx

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aquickstart · 6 months

Text

i need to talk to you guys about the colors of the Cattons (Felix specifically) and Oliver. the clothes they are wearing are telling the story of Oliver taking over and leaving his mark throughout the whole movie, with Oliver's failures and successes and a final triumph. holy shit. get in. this is long and ends in ancient greek culture trivia. let;s talk please.

disclaimer: am starting from Oliver's arrival at Saltburn. before that the outfits are also very intentional, but it's a lot more complicated and it has been discussed before. the world distorts once we are at Saltburn and the story gets truly gothic there, and every detail—including color!—is enhanced in meaning. also, special thanks to @kivlaro for doing this with me, the thoughts on this specifically and the Saltburn craze on the whole. pics and detailed analysis under the cut!

let's start from the beginning. here is Oliver at the door. simple, blue shirt.

the shirt is sort of its own character. logically it makes sense as Oliver's suitcase is small and he spends the whole summer there, of course he'll rewear stuff a bunch. but it is blue.

in contrast to Felix, in yellow. yellow is one of Felix's colors (he is the sun, which i've talked about here btw, so this makes sense).

same to Pamela, in blue. first time we see her, she is next to Elspeth, wearing the color that is Oliver's, taking the place that he takes right away, in this very scene. the only other time she is physically present on screen is at dinner, in black and white, and black and white are a blank slate. she is stripped of color and gone very fast.

a bit of crucial data for later: Oliver, in blue, and Felix in pink. pink is very important on Felix. this is their first morning together. they are separate and opposite, solid, contained.

where it starts to get good is the morning after the vampire strike.

Venetia is a Felix extension, just as everyone in the house is to Oliver. i will eventually rant about Saltburn as a whole entity and Cattons as aspects of one self, and Oliver as psychosis, but not here. so, yes, Venetia is a pink riot, a euphoria of self-containment because Oliver gave her a piece of something she felt she lacked to feel whole (validation, attention, care), not a piece of blue, of himself. Oliver is expectedly solid blue. Felix is incredibly interesting and something i didn't pay much attention to at first: predominantly blue, incredibly upset at Oliver for ditching him, with a tile of bright red (on the left! close to heart! over-reaching here but like still!), which still tracks. i mean, really, if i had so much foreign color bleed into me and then abandoned, i'd be pissed, too. nice little touch is sir James' beloved hydrangeas, behind Felix, also pink, very pink, always pink; i don't think i've seen them blue in the movie, although the sort exists.

Farleigh. sweet baby Farleigh i love you. I'm not dead-set on my interpretation of this specifically but i think multiple things are happening with Oliver and Farleigh here. like Rent, which is their song, blue is their color of outsiders and the triers to fit in. Farleigh points out the favoritism and preference of Oliver to him and his mother here, so it may also be appropriation of color to draw attention to Farleigh as almost (but never quite) Oliver. it may also be as simple as that Farleigh, as much as he denies and resists, still retains Oliver's influence, which bleeds into him very slowly.

a nice little moment of Felix wearing blue swim shorts with just tiny specks of a pink pattern. Oliver's shorts also have a bit of pink, but less than Felix's. Oliver is pretty good at remaining unaffected and uninfluenced overall.

and we're getting to where it all clicked and started for me. the Quick family house, the failed reconciliation, and the immediate aftermath. oh it's so good.

on the drive there, Oliver is blue, Felix has a pink polo shirt with a solid blue pullover over it. this is the most blue Felix has ever been (this is the most blue he will ever be!), this is trust. however shaky and toxic it is, Felix loves Oliver and accepts him into his world. as a side note, Oliver's parents are also very blue, mom more so than dad. nice!

and then it crashes. immediately after, it's the evening of the same day, but Felix is not wearing the blue pullover anymore. this is very, very important. this is rejection. it's the end for Oliver in Felix's world and with his trust. Felix, again, in solid pink, Oliver in solid blue. Felix successfully rips him out with the roots and everything. ouch.

daddy. sorry. is that highlighter? sweat? fuck. let me- daddy. SORRY

no i actually have a point about this.

the clothes are replaced by the lights, but we roll with it. Oliver basks in the blue-green light, while Felix is on the other side, in pink and purple and red. sure, blue shines through, and Oliver also walks through the slashes of pink, but it is mostly pretty separate, Oliver watching Felix's pink in his own blue from a distance.

the morning after palette is deep. the wine color that is so prominent in these scenes is fascinating to me. if i were to over-reach again i'd say it's the Oliver in Felix's attributes and in his place that requires the robe to be so dark, not usual definite pink, because deep blue has leaked into the color itself, mixed with it, made itself integral to the shade. but it's also just a nice color, and it is pink in its core. the flowers (with sir James in the background) i think are also this specific shade for the same reason. you look at what remains of Felix everywhere here, and it is his color.

and finally oh the lunch scene. the last supper. the judgement day. the who's afraid of virginia woolf madness.

i think we've established what's up with Oliver, but i also think it's important that he is his own color at lunch but in Felix's pink/wine right before and after. lunch is where he attacks, whereas before and after is where he grieves and enjoys. Farleigh is almost completely blue save for a strip of the same deep pink, and he is soon cast out, and Venetia is striped, blue and pink/salmon, affected deeply by Oliver yet still clinging on to the Catton pink with grief, probably, but also love for Felix.

and after all this, Oliver leaves himself.

no, like, actually, literally himself. sure, he'd got a taste of the Cattons and the pink, but he is a monolith, a solid blue when he leaves Saltburn. he has not been affected by the house, he has taken what he wanted but stayed true and whole. what a power move, honestly.

but it's an even bigger deal that 16 years later, Elspeth runs into Oliver wearing all white and a blue scarf. oh, she's not let this go, alright; it was a long time ago, "but not to me," she says. What Oliver has been up to in that time is a great question, without a doubt he's been keeping tabs on the remaining family as much as he could; but Elspeth has never moved on, either. She has held on to Oliver's blue and the pink is not important at all now. Oliver, of course, is invariably, unwaveringly blue. welcome back to his show.

and welcome back to his triumph.

the only color (except for, again, white and black) we see him wear in the flashback about Saltburn inheritance is the all-too familiar deep pink. wine. bright pink mixed with deep blue.

now i will take a liberty and step back, over-reach, over-interpret and go insane. here's a fun bit on ancient greek culture trivia for you.

this is an interesting and complicated historiographical and linguistic debate that i will not even attempt to relay here, but the essence of it is this: for us, the sea is conventionally deep blue. historically, one of the most prominent civilizations considered "deep wine" to be the descriptor for it (not necessarily the color but the property. highly rec to look this up it's so fascinating). what it gives me here is that Oliver has changed color, but not his self. he has integrated, mixed, but persisted, completely winning over, triumphing. long live the king!

in conclusion, i would just like to propose "colors" by halsey as the next cattonquick anthem. thank you for your attention, please let me know your thoughts. yours, yes, you. cheers. god. peace out

#saltburn #cattonquick #quickstart #oliver quick #farleigh start #felix catton #venetia catton #mine #saltburn journaling

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forgeofthenine · 7 months

Note

So here’s a question. What do you think would be some accidental turn ons for Dammon/Zevlor/Rolan?

I absolutely loved writing this, it's such a fun idea. I have some thoughts of things the tieflings do that are accidental turn ons too, if anyones interested. Thank you for sending in the request!

Slightly NSFW under the cut, no warnings needed, reader is gender neutral as usual

Accidental turn ons for the tiefling bachelors

Dammon

Any off hand jokes along the lines of he 'needs to behave or he'll be punished'

Dammon doesn't even really have a punishment kink or similar but something about the cheeky way you say it does things to him

Something about joking that he's a 'bad boy' just really gets this man going

Play wrestling

Do I even need to explain?

Try to pin him down as you both laugh and grapple with each other, as soon as you sit on his hips to hold him still you'll feel a surprise against your ass

Bonus points if you hold his wrists and lean in to whisper in his ear

If you put a hand on his arm or back while passing him in a tight space

Dammon loves soft touches, and if you use touch to let him know your passing behind him it makes his brain go haywire

Zevlor

When you can speak another language

Especially he doesn't understand what your saying or you have a unique accent

Zevlors eyes go wide as saucers and he has to try and hide his growing hard on as he listens to you

When you take off a sweater and your shirt pulls up to reveal your stomach

He appreciates every part of your body, and getting a peak at your bare skin as you strip off a top layer really gets Zevlor going

Idly running your fingers over him in random patterns

You know how sometimes when you're sitting or cuddling with someone sometimes it's just nice to mindlessly run your fingertips over their skin? And it makes that tingly feeling for them?

Zevlor loves it, he loves the tingles

There's so many everyday things you do that make him feel like a horny teenager again

Rolan

Put your head on his lap and look up at him from there

Not only is he adorably blushy, but he's oddly quiet as he tries not to get hard right then and there

Running your fingers through his hair and braiding it

Rolan has a hair pulling kink, it's just a fact

You getting rid of the knots in his hair with your fingers before braiding it, the little tugs of it against his scalp the whole time

He might just die of horny-

Watching you on your tip toes trying to get a book down from a high shelf

Particularly if you wear shorts or a skirt, regardless of gender

Rolan sees it and the first thought in his mind is to press you against the bookshelf and take you right then and there

He's just enough of an ass to come whisper his wants in your ear, too

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x you #baldurs gate 3 dammon #bg3 dammon #dammon x reader #baldurs gate 3 zevlor #bg3 zevlor #zevlor x reader #baldurs gate 3 rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan x reader #bg3 smut #baldurs gate 3 smut

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javierpena-inatacvest · 4 months

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Sunday Naps

Summary: It's Sunday, which means it's time for your favorite weekend activity- an afternoon nap with Frankie. But when Frankie finds himself awake before you with an interesting problem, he knows just the way to wake you up, too.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader (no use of y/n, established relationship)

Word Count: 2.6K (The self restraint on this was UNREAL)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (don't do this irl), VERY CONSENSUAL Somnophilia, oral sex (f receiving), creampie, praise kink, this is porn with no plot, reader has no physical descriptions (but pls let me know if I missed any!!)Frankie being a menace but also literally the sweetest man alive, Frankie's a Tampa Bay Buc's fan (idk, if he lives in Florida, this makes the most sense to me, I will not elaborate), napping during football bc me too, girl

A/N: This is my first time writing somno so pls be nice, I am NERVY😭 I hope y'all enjoy, Frankie Morales is forever making me swoon, and I just know in my heart that this man absolutely loves to nap and is the world's biggest snuggler 🥺💕 not beta'd bc that's just how I roll

Before you had met Frankie, Sunday was arguably the worst of the weekend days- looming stress of the work week ahead, mettled with to-do’s and other chores before Monday got the best of you. There were very few times that you had found yourself anxiously awaiting a Sunday, but since Frankie? Sundays had easily become one of your favorite days of the week.

Slow and easy going mornings where Frankie brought you coffee as the sun rose before tangling your bodies between the sheets in a mess of soft and unrushed sex, followed by cuddling and leisurely making your way out of bed for breakfast, awaiting a relaxing day ahead of you.

Now that it was fall, it also meant football season, and while you didn’t really care either way about the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, you enjoyed any time that you got to spend cuddled up next to Frankie on the couch, considering more often than not, it normally resulted in the two of you fucking during half-time, followed by you promptly napping wrapped in Frankie’s arms for the better part of the 2nd half.

This Sunday was no different, you and Frankie had found yourself happily snuggled on your couch under your favorite fluffy blanket, Buccaneers game on in the background, Frankie’s arm draped around you as you leaned against his chest, soaking in the familiar warmth and scent of him radiating from the worn cotton of his t-shirt as you felt your eyelids slowly begin to droop heavier and heavier. With the way Frankie had been mindlessly rubbing soft, gentle circles against your back, his thumb dancing in swirling patterns across your skin, it wasn’t long before the comfort of being held in Frankie’s arms had completely washed over you, and you had found yourself fast asleep well before the start of the second quarter.

What you hadn’t realized, was that Frankie had fallen asleep not long after you, the weight of your body pressed against his, along with the long week he’d had from work and the symphony of melodic snores now roaring from your parted lips and knocked him out almost equally as fast, leaving the two of you in a blissfully happy pile of nap on another lazy Sunday afternoon.

That was, until, Frankie found himself wide awake well before you with a very curious problem.

He was hard as a fucking rock.

Some way or another in your sleepy, napping state, the both of you had rolled over on your sides, Frankie now spooning you with his arm draped over your middle and your ass pressed firmly against his crotch, quickly solving the mystery to the hardon straining at the fabric of his sweatpants.

But if just your ass nestled against your dick wasn’t enough, Frankie looked over to see that you were definitely also dreaming, and the type of dream you were having wasn’t hard to decipher based on the way you were quietly moaning in your sleep and subtly grinding your hips into Frankie’s lap.

“Mmmmmmm… Frankie…..” You quietly whimpered, your voice groggy with sleep as you stirred in Frankie’s arms, now finding himself almost unbearably hard at the sight that he’d awoken to, especially now knowing that the dream you were having was definitely about him. Frankie let out a deep, shaky exhale, now more awake than ever as you continued to gently squirmed your bottom half against him, biting down at his bottom lip as you moaned again.

“Frankie… Oh fuck…..”

“Fuck…” Frankie whispered, now raging an internal war in his head as he debated what to do next, knowing you were clearly turned on by whatever was happening in your slumber, his cock aching with each second that passed with you spooned against him.

Should he just try to get up and jerk off before you woke up? Wake you up and then ask if you wanted to fuck? Or maybe… Maybe, he’d wake you up a different way.

Although he hadn’t done it often, you had made it abundantly clear to Frankie that it had been more than okay to wake you up to sex, and every time he had, you’d absolutely loved it. Frankie had been hesitant at first, never wanting to do anything without your consent, or do anything that would ever make you feel even remotely uncomfortable, but after you had insisted and he had worked up the courage, he knew he had the green light from that point on- And given the state that you were in right now, Frankie was about to make good on your outstanding offer.

Carefully shifting his body out from behind you, Frankie let you gently fall so your back was resting against the couch, caging his broad body over yours as he worked his way down to the waistband of your pants, gently sliding them off your hips before tugging at your underwear and leaving your bottom half bare for him.

Frankie sat back on his knees, in shock and awe of the glistening, wet mess your pussy had already become in your sleep just dreaming of him, arousal coating your folds and inside of your thighs as you lazily shifted in your sleep, your legs seeming to instinctually fall open, just for him.

“Fuck me, baby girl…” He whispered to himself under his breath, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he audibly gulped, his eyes going wide as he locked on to your cunt, already dripping and aching for him. Settling down to lay on his stomach, he carefully lifted up your legs to rest over his shoulders, wrapping his arms around your waist, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your hips while he settled himself face to face with your heat.

With one long, flat press of his tongue, Frankie dragged himself across your clit, savoring the sweet tang of the juices that had been dripping from your hole, lapping them up with one more lengthy lick, before pulling his mouth away just enough to see how you’d react to the new presence between your legs.

As if Frankie wasn’t already turned on enough, your reaction was clearly aiding his cause.

After just one lick of his tongue through your folds, you were already incredibly responsive, your hips instinctively jerking towards his face as a breathy whine escaped from your lips, as if you were already begging for more without having to say a word. A slight smirk began to spread across Frankie’s face as he dove back in again, this time, working himself along your cunt in easy, languid strokes, feeling your body begin to twitch even more with the way he was working his mouth.

“Mmmmmmm…. Yeah…..” You muttered, still sleeping as you kept bucking your bottom half against his face, only encouraging Frankie to give you more with his tongue, beginning to change his pattern to swirl deliberate, steady circles around your clit, putting more and more pressure into each movement.

“Frankie….”

“That’s it, sweet girl…” Frankie hummed, his words rumbling in his chest as his hot breath danced against your core, continuing to coax you out of your slumber, working through your folds and at your sensitive bud with intensifying pace.

It wasn’t long until Frankie’s careful and meticulous work slowly began to turn more sloppy and desperate, feeling the wet mess you were becoming under his tongue driving him insane, wanting, no needing, to make you cum, to wake you up with pleasure flowing through your veins, turning your sleepy mumbles into cries of his name over and over again.

Letting one arm untangle around your leg, he brought the hand to your pussy, gently slipping one finger into your aching core, sucking him in with your warm, wet walls, only giving it a few pumps before realizing you could easily take a second, slipping it in to meet the first and curling the pair to brush against the soft and spongy spot inside you he knew drove you absolutely mad. Almost instantly, he could feel your cunt beginning to clench in response, your tell tale sign that you were getting closer and closer to reaching your high and completely coming undone around him.

“C’mon, querida, I’ve got you, baby.”

Suddenly, your eyes shot open, your heart racing as you felt a familiar feeling building in your belly, the coil inside you already wound so tightly as you let out a ragged moan, lifting your head up to see Frankie nestled between your legs, drinking you up like a man starved.

“Oh fuck, Frankie, fuck- baby, fuck, don’t stop” You whimpered, shooting your hand down to burry it in the messy, dark curls of his hair, tugging at his locks for any sort of relief as you had awoken to the savory sensation shooting down your spine and through your core from Frankie’s lips latched around your clit and fingers pulsing in and out of your cunt.

Frankie had barely any time to register that you were now awake, but as you grasped firmer at his hair and let out a ragged moan as you came, clenching around his fingers and gushing with your arousal, it had become very clear to Frankie that he had done his job, and done it well.

“There’s my good girl. Damelo (Give it to me), Hermosa, fucking soak my face.” Frankie smirked, pulling away to reveal the shiny slick covering his beard, still gently rocking his fingers in the warm, wet walls of your heat as you came down from your high, you chest heaving in low, shallow breaths, mouth hanging open as you let a moan of pure ecstasy fall from your lips.

“Frankie… Holy Fuck…”

“Good morning.” Frankie mewled, pulling his fingers out of your pussy, making you hiss at the loss as he laid himself on top of you, swallowing your whimpers in an electric kiss, the tangy taste of you still lingering on his lips as his tongue swiped across your mouth, silently begging for more. “Must have been some good dreams you were having, querida. You were so fucking wet for me, baby. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Frankie, please, I need you. Fuck- Fuck, I need you to fuck me, Frankie, please. Need you inside me.”

“Needy girl. I’ve got you, Hermosa. Don’t worry. Woke up so fucking hard for you, baby. Didn’t stand a fucking chance with that pretty ass all pressed up against me. Fuck, you’re so perfect.” Frankie sighed, reaching down to shuffle his sweatpants and boxers down off his hips, revealing his painfully hard cock, his tip red and weeping with precum, aching to be buried inside you from the moment he had woken up.

Wrapping his hand around his length, he stroked himself a few times before lining up with your entrance, the two of you letting out a heavy sigh of relief as Frankie pushed inside you, slowly filling you up inch by inch until his tip was kissing your cervix, taking a few moments to let you adjust to the sweet sting and stretch of his fullness.

His forehead dropped to rest against yours, the shimmering sheen of his sweat making his dark curls stick to him and brush against your skin, his broad palm cupping your cheek as he let your lips lock onto yours again for another tender kiss as he slowly began to thrust in and out of you, taking his sweet time with each stroke.

“Fuck, you’re so wet and tight, queirda.” Frankie grunted, gritting his teeth as his hips rutted into you, the weight of his body draped overtop of you sending your mind reeling, loving every second of being engulfed in his broadness. “What were you dreaming about, baby, hmm? What were you dreaming about that had you all worked up?”

Suddenly, Frankie’s arm was wrapping under your legs, pressing your knees to your chest to stretch you open even further, the new position making you breathless as he began to pound into you with more intensity, the room now filling with a mix of your moans and skin slapping against each other.

“I was dreaming- oh fuck- Fuck, I was dreaming about you, Frankie. Shit- dreaming about you fucking me like this, how good you make me feel.” You whined, Frankie’s grip in the soft flesh of your thighs growing tighter as you locked eyes with him, the dark, chocolate brown pooling with lust watching the wrecked mess you were quickly becoming as your cunt began to clench tighter, and the all too familiar tingle in your spine once again began to creep through your body.

Your response elicited a low hum in Frankie’s chest, rutting his hips into you with more intensity as he felt your pussy starting to flutter around his cock, freeing one of his hands to snake between your legs, the pads of his fingers putting just the right amount of pressure on your clit to have you screaming out his name as you felt yourself creep closer and closer to your second orgasm.

“Fuck me. That’s all I want baby, just wanna make you feel good. You gonna be a good girl and give me one more, Hermosa? Cum all over my cock before I fill you up?”

Frankie could feel his own high slowly approaching now too, his thrusts becoming more sloppy and frantic as he pounded against your g-spot and circled your clit, determined to make sure you came again before he did.

“Mmmmmhhhmmmm.” You whimpered, your brain barely even able to form a coherent thought, let alone a complete sentence, given how your eyes were practically rolling in the back of your head as Frankie’s punishing pace split you open in the best way possible, your legs beginning to tremble while you could feel the knot tightening in your core quickly building up to the point of snapping. “Oh fuck, fuck, Frankie, fuckfuckfuckfuck I’m so close, fuck, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh.”

Before you could even finish your sentence, your orgasm crashed through you, euphoria flowing through your veins as you came, every inch of you filling with pleasure as your cunt clamped around Frankie’s length, soaking him in your arousal. Watching you cum was all Frankie needed to follow suit, gritting his teeth as a ragged groan rumbled deep in his chest, pumping a few more times into your heat before burying himself in your warm, wet walls, and milking himself of every last drop as he came, the mix of his spend and your slick leaking and coating the inside of your thighs

Letting his body collapse into yours, he draped himself on top of you, your chests rising and falling in sync with heavy, heaving breaths, the both of you trying your best to regain your composure before Frankie gently pulled himself out, making you hiss at the loss of his fullness as he flopped over next to you, planting a soft kiss on your lips as lay his arm across your stomach, pulling you into him.

“Jesus Christ, Frankie… That’s one way to wake up from a nap.” You giggled softly, raising your eyebrows at him, softly biting down on your lip.

“Was that okay?” Frankie asked, shifting his hand up to gently cup your face, stroking his thumb in lazy circles around your cheek, staring back at you with his sweet puppy dog gaze. “I know I’ve done it before but I just always wanna make sure you feel good and-”

You caught the rest of his sentence in your mouth, swallowing his words in another long, and tender kiss, pulling away from his plush lips to peck a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose, giggling once again.

“God, I love you. What did I ever do to deserve you, Fransisco Morales? Yes, baby it was more than okay. So okay that in fact,” You huffed, wrapping your arm around Frankie’s waist and letting your head fall to lay on his chest, “I think I need another nap.”

@bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog @jaciejay13 @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @lola8888673 @persephone-girl @copperhalfcent @innerpersonunknown @messinadresss @devineconjuring @endlessthxxghts @cool-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @messinadress @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @ilovepedro @pascalscoffin @missladym1981 @ilovepedro @itsokbbygrl

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loveinhawkins · 11 months

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When he’s really tired, Steve will rub at his left eyebrow bone absentmindedly.

Eddie can’t really pinpoint when he first discovered the habit; it just feels like something he has always known.

Like now, the way Steve’s index finger digs into the arch somehow tells him that Steve had a late night, not through choice—probably lay awake until four in the morning, then began his day with a dull ache radiating from the top of his head.

And… Eddie glances at the clock in his hospital room—yup, Steve’s right on time to crash by four in the afternoon.

He would offer his own damn bed were it not for the fact that he’s more than aware Steve would adamantly refuse.

At this point Eddie almost feels like he has no need of a hospital bed himself, although he knows that’s not true: getting discharged’s on the horizon, but he’s not naive enough to think he’s completely recovered yet—knows his aches and pains will no doubt come back with a vengeance when he returns home.

But that doesn’t change the fact that in amongst the bouts of frustration and boredom, of feeling like all he’s doing is waiting, this little in-between is… nice. He’s gotten into the swing of it by now, knows the pattern.

He’ll keep an eye on the clock, let Steve sleep for a couple hours then gently wake him so he isn’t late: he’s got dinner with the Buckleys tonight followed by a viewing of Murder, She Wrote.

Eddie’s picked up enough to work out that it’s a routine which began last fall; Robin said during their first viewing, Steve sat on an armchair which her dad would usually favour without realising, and her dad cracked an incredibly corny joke about the balance of the universe being disrupted—and she had to privately reassure Steve that the man wearing odd socks, jeans and a faded pyjama shirt at 8pm was, in fact, just kidding.

The routine continued even when things were at their most dire—Eddie knows that he almost caused them to miss an episode at the end of Spring Break.

“Yeah, you really should’ve considered that, dude,” Steve had joked—once they were out of the woods, once he was no longer gripping the back of his chair with white knuckles. (When Eddie could finally breathe a little better.)

“We all have flaws,” Robin said magnanimously; Eddie could feel her hand squeezing his beneath the bedsheets.

A soft clatter of a pencil being dropped onto the floor, rolling to an eventual stop.

Steve’s got a pad of paper resting on his knee. It’s one him and Robin share, taking turns at coming up with more and more outlandish predictions for upcoming episodes.

Eddie can see no such notes on the page right now, not even words: just drowsy pencil trails, getting increasingly faint.

The pad slips from Steve’s knee, slides down to the floor to join the pencil.

Steve reaches for it way too late. Eddie smiles.

“Just leave it, Steve,” he says. “I’ll get it.”

Steve hums in vague acknowledgment. Presses a finger just above his eye, blinks so slowly.

“Mm, why?”

Here’s the song and dance; Eddie could set it to music.

“Cause you’re gonna fall asleep,” he teases, sing-song.

Steve feigns bafflement even as his head’s tipping down to the armrest of the couch. Yeah, another sleepover at Robin’s is definitely in the cards.

“Oh, yeah? How’d you—” a yawn, “—figure that, smarty pants?”

“Guess I just know you,” Eddie says.

Steve’s breathing starts to deepen; his hand gradually falls away from his face, lips already forming unintelligible murmurs. Heavy eyes shut.

And here’s another pattern Eddie’s come to know, like sheet music memorised—engraved on his heart.

Because I love you.

#to be loved is to be known #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steve and robin #eddie and robin #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #pre steddie

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misslovasstuff · 4 months

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“Confession”

Summary: Sanji tries to confess your love to you... many times. pairing: Sanji x fem!reader genre: romance with a small hint of comedy. author's note: for some reason, I think canon Sanji is someone who is quite oblivious when it comes to women who ACTUALLY like him. Like bro notices when men adore him but can't tell a girl has the hots for him?? Anyways, out of frustration I wrote this but just roles reversed. Enjoy, hehe

His tenderness and kindness drops like honey from his fingertips, this is quite evident when he carefully strokes your skin with the back of his hand, gently brushing off your hair when your head rests on his lap, his lips touch your shut-closed eyes, reciting you poetry about them every morning and every evening.

Oh, how he admires and yet envies the light of the sun landing on your skin, the cool breeze that gets to caress your hair and the blessed land you walk upon where flowers seem to bloom with each one of your steps.

How can a man express a love so grand? What words could Sanji ever use to depict his own feelings, or to come even close to explaining them? Among all of these questions, there is a specific one that has grown roots on his head for a while now:

How do I confess?

Imagine the agony of seeing the person you love every day, emotions building up inside of you so much so that even a glance of them towards your direction shakes your whole soul. Ok, now that you have imagined what it feels like, multiply that feeling with x100; that’s what a hopeless romantic such as Sanji has endured ever since the day he fell for you (but that’s a story for another time). Now, let me introduce to you 3 attempts Sanji tried to confess his love:

1. A pretty flower for an even prettier flower

It’s Spring, around 4 months ago. You are rotting in the girl’s dorm, still recovering from some heavy injured back you had to deal with after a tough fight. There are sounds of laughter outside, so loud that you could hardly listen to the sound of waves or anything like that. From what you could hear, you had reached an island which seemed to make the crew enthusiastic for some reason you could not really tell from the darkness and loneliness of your surroundings.

“Damn it, I can’t even stand up on my own” - you try to lift yourself up but quickly surrender due to the immense pain in your back. A loud sigh escapes your mouth as you cover your face with a hand, rubbing your temple and holding yourself back from shedding any tears that could reflect that your need to be useful is now under attack, and you feel more useless than ever.

“Can I come in?” - a knock or two are heard at the door. You’re caught completely off guard but yet manage to blur out with a cracked voice: “Please do.”

Goodness, you had to cover your eyes from the light that shone through the room when the door opened, almost blinding you. Thus, you can’t really tell who just came in but a feeling of some sort was telling you that it was alright, that it was safe.

“We landed on a new island. - the voice approaches and comes closer, becoming clearer. - It’s quite beautiful.”

A touch of your hand makes you immediately realise that it was Sanji who is now sat beside you, caressing your hand. Your vision gets back to normal and you gaze happily at the blond chef. He looked so pretty: a nice pink shirt with a flower pattern, shorts and sunglasses he’s wearing.

“Why aren’t you exploring then?” - you ask, caressing his hand back.

“Oh, I did my exploring. It’s just that all that beauty that I saw…- Sanji reveals his hand hidden behind his back. There was a bouquet of flowers he was holding, landing them to you. Goodness, the way your eyes sparkled in joy caught Sanji off guard. His gaze softens. - …all that beauty that I saw reminded me of you.”

You take the flowers and sniff them, the aroma captivating your senses as your dopamine reaches high levels that were not reached for months.

“Thank you, Sanji. This… - you gaze lovingly at the flowers and then at him. - …this means a lot.”

“Don’t thank me. I’d do anything for you.” - he grabs your chin and pinches it gently, giving you a reassuring smile.

“Actually, I came to see you because I wanted to-

“You wanted to make sure I was fine, right? Don’t worry, I do feel better now. Promise!” - you interrupt him, thinking that he was still worrying himself over your condition. However, the expression on his face made you doubt that that was the real reason he came.

“Oh, is it because you want to ask me what I want for dinner?”- you try again, trying to guess the reason of his visit, which he did often.

“Uhm right, I did want to ask you that…” - Sanji smiles awkwardly as he strokes the back of his neck. Guess he couldn’t really say what he wanted now, instead he just smiles and listens to your wishes regarding dinner.

“How about we have dinner together, just the two of us, when you get better of course?” - he suggests and you widen your eyes.

Just the two of you? Why is he asking that? For some reason that gave you a weird feeling in your stomach, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Well, it would be my pleasure, chef.” - you tease, pinching his nose jokingly as the cook gives a blushing smile.

2. What’s mine is yours

The dinner table was decorated beautifully by Sanji, the colors, the texture of the fabrics and all the details up to the crystal clear utensils would make every woman in the world happy. He is now sat patiently, waiting for you to come down and dine with him.

Once you go out the door you notice the setting your favourite cook has done for you. With a quick glance you fasten your step to go down the stairs, giving a small cough to make him notice you.

How foolish, you think he didn’t notice you?

Sanji saw you from afar, and that man is already weak in the knees from seeing you all dressed up with a chic black dress, a nice golden necklace resting on your neck, complemented gracefully with your long dark flocks falling off your bare shoulders.

“You came.” - Sanji reaches for you hand, kissing the back of it whilst looking deep into your eyes.

“For you, always.” - a wink at him before you go and sit down makes the blond crazily happy. He immediately pulls the chair back for you and rushes to serving some delicious hot meals.

“I love that we are doing this outside.” - you claim, finally feeling a bit of fresh air coming in your lungs.

“I thought you would. - Sanji lights up a candle placed in the middle of the table. - I know you’re a romantic at heart as well.”

You chuckle, not disagreeing with his statement.

“Thank you for the food.” - you say and start digging in. Ah, he never fails when it comes to cooking. You could live 109 more lives and never get to try Sanji’s food anywhere else.

“Perfect.” - you whisper, letting out a small moan from the satisfying taste. Little do you know that even such small details never go unnoticed by Sanji. He keeps staring at you, your dress, hair, your eyes that sparkle with light every time you look at him.

“Here, try some of this.” - Sanji picks up with his chopsticks a piece from his plate and offers it to you.

Of course you want to try it so you open your mouth and eat it, closing your eyes shut for a bit.

“Ahhh, Sanji it’s just so good!” - you exclaim, grabbing the table cloth.

Alright, you might be someone who overacts at times but now come on! look what you’re doing to the poor guy. You moan his name in a sentence like that and expect him to remain his full composure?

Bro had to keep it in him not to tell you that he fucks as good as he cooks for the hundredth time.

These thoughts are quickly shaken off when he notices your body trembling a bit. He immediately gets up, strips his jacket off.

Now, you’re caught off guard. His sleeves are rolled up and his forearms give a nice impression of a good physique. Moreover, his visible biceps and wide shoulders... Did he always have a waist that small?

“Here, I’d rather die that let you catch a cold.” - his sentence interrupts a train of not so holy thoughts for which you were confused of where they came from.

You shake your head and say a small ‘thank you’ to Sanji before going back to eating. However, now his cologne is evident, coming from the jacket placed on your shoulders. Alluring and strong, just like him.

“Are you listening?” - he asks and you widen your eyes, asking him a very polite ‘sorry, what?’

“Never mind. Nothing important.” - there it is again, that awkward smile. What is it that he has to say but doesn’t tell me?

The rest of the dinner goes fairly well. Around midnight you both find yourself and the doorstep of the girl’s dorm.

“Thank you for joining me.” - he kisses your hand, caressing it with his thumb, not letting go just yet.

“Thank you for having me, Sanji.” - you smile, a weird rush of adrenaline conquering your body. Not understanding what it really is, you rush inside and wave a final ‘bye’ to the cook, closing the door behind you. Who knows what would have happened if you kept your hand in his for any longer; his warmth and the comfort he radiates with only the touch of his hands made you think how good he would f- NO NO STOP RIGHT THERE!

3. The horizon knows about us

It’s a lonely sunset - that’s how you call it when there is no one to share the view with. Nevertheless, it does not stop you from admiring it, eyes filling with light coming from a colorful sky that resembles a drunk painting.

The admirer has an admirer which is watching from behind, slowly approaching.

“I thought you didn’t like lonely sunsets?” - Sanji approaches, taking his hands off his pockets and resting his arms on the wooden plateau.

“Well, - you smile, tilting your head towards him. - we have to stop and appreciate what burns for us, and the sun has been burning for way too long.”

You say those words and Sanji is fully immersed, captivated, staring at your profile like he would keep burning if it means his eyes would get the blessing of seeing you everyday, his light would keep shining on you, setting himself a blaze to let you be warm, always.

“You know, I'm sure it's a pleasure for the sun to burn for you. - he takes a deep breath before continuing, mastering the courage to look at you in the eyes. - And just like it, I too have been burning for a while.”

Your eyes widen at his statement, face immediately turning to him.

“Why so?” - your voice comes out so soft and caring that Sanji’s lip trembles.

“There are words I want to say, feelings I want to express, verses of my own that I want to recite that are stuck on my throat, making me unable to breath, suffocating me.” - Sanji starts explaining, grabbing your hands together and resting them on his chest.

“It’s all in here. - he says. - please tell me that you feel it too.”

You have stopped blinking for a while now, trying to take in as much as possible from the situation. The sun keeps setting as so do your feelings. They become more evident, a sudden epiphany hitting the depths of your very soul. Your heart recognizes, understands what Sanji is talking about cause you feel it, you have felt it many times.

“Sanji… - you call his name, tightening the grip on his hands. - I’m listening this time. More than ever I’m not only listening to you but also to my own heart. - you gulp hard, approaching him closer. - I need you to tell me first.”

Sanji smiles, putting your hands in front of his lips, hiding the blush of his cheeks whilst not breaking eye contact.

“I confess to you, the sun and the horizon that I have inevitably fallen in love with you.” - his voice does not tremble, nor does his body shake. However, both of your hearts are going crazy as the heat between you becomes more and more evident. After an intense prolonged eye contact, you cup his cheek, glancing at the sky for a second whilst noticing the darkness setting in, a darkness that you do not loath anymore.

“Let me then confess to you, the moon and the stars that I have fallen in love with you too.” - you smile cheekily, making Sanji mirror your genuine smile, this time not awkwardly but wholeheartedly, as he grabs your waist swiftly, bringing you close to his embrace.

The sun is completely set and the sky has fully darkened. There is now the moon who watches over along with the little stars that dance happily over lovers. No matter what time, the horizon had witnessed two lovers uniting, giving them all the colors that it could present for such a memorable moment.

Thus, it did take him a while, but now Sanji and you have found peace in each other, a comfort that only love can provide. And a fairytale have you become for people who gather the courage to express what lies deep inside them, taming the fire so that it could warm your lover but never burn you.

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