#at least if I was on my own I could order food without having to worry about feeding them

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 76

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe: Military School

Words: 5K

TW: Abuse Mention

Masterlist

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Saturday, March 26; 9:00 PM – Jenni and Alexia's apartment.

The evening is underway. We're at Jenni's since her apartment is the closest to The United. Needless to say, our friend is well-stocked with beer for the girls' enjoyment. We ordered takeout – Chinese food, to keep things simple. The others left us about an hour ago to enjoy their own evening. We started ours by playing a few rounds of car racing games on Jenni's PlayStation. The games went on until our stomachs started growling. I think Mapi was mostly tired of Alexia beating us. It seems like she's had a bit more practice than we have. So now we're eating, and I took the opportunity to share the good news I received today.

"And so, she’s willing to take you on at her gallery?" Ale asks. "That’s crazy. Small world, huh?"

"We're not complaining," Mapi replies with her mouth full.

She swallows before continuing:

"We were starting to worry you wouldn’t be with us next year."

"Oh no. I was more worried about ending up with nothing. I don’t think I would have left anyway..."

"But is this thing certain?" Ale asks.

"Supposedly. She wants me to visit the gallery and spend a weekend there to see if it works for both of us."

"That’s cool. At least you’ll get a feel for it."

"Yeah, exactly! Plus, she’s a woman running the gallery alone, which suits me even better."

"Yeah, that’s great news," Alexia comments, though with a hint of sadness.

My remark brings about a short silence. I take a deep breath and uncross my legs, placing them on the ground. It was now or never. I mean, there wasn’t a better opportunity.

"I think I’m ready to talk to you about it, girls."

They were both focused on their little boxes of Chinese noodles before I sparked their interest. Neither could hide their surprise.

"You don’t have to," Mapi says first. "I’ve lived in silence for over a year, and I’m fine with that."

"No. Well, no, I don’t have to. But I managed to talk to Lucy about it, so I feel ready to talk to you now. I know you won’t judge me or anything like that anyway."

"That’s the last thing we’d do," Ale replies. "But like Mapi said, don’t feel obligated. Lucy knows, so it’s already a big step for you to have opened up once."

"It’s not about opening up anymore. It’s that you two are my best friends, and I want you to know what destroyed me one day."

They nod in understanding.

"It’s just that if there are two people I’m going to tell this story to, it’s you two."

"Okay," Mapi says first. "Well, if you want to know, I’ve been looking for the truth about all of this for a long time, even though I’ve come up with plenty of scenarios in my head. That piece of garbage Feli still managed to destroy my best friend."

I give a sad smile. It took me a while to understand, but I wasn’t the only one affected by my change in behavior.

"That scumbag, as you put it, abused me for almost a year," I say bluntly, without beating around the bush.

I owed it to myself to do it this way, or my resolve would have evaporated. Still, I can’t bring myself to meet their eyes. I keep my gaze fixed on my box of food, resting on my knees.

"What do you mean, abused...?" Ale murmurs.

"She got angry because of the drugs, and I paid the price... I won’t go into the details. Even Lucy doesn’t know. She ended up figuring it out after my fight with Korbin. I had completely shut down and didn’t want her to treat me at the time, until she understood what was happening."

My throat tightens at the memories resurfacing. It’s harder than I imagined. Alexia, sitting beside me, places her hand on my knee for support.

"I—I didn’t mean to push people away. I just couldn’t stand being touched or approached anymore. I feel vulnerable around people..."

"Oh my God, you poor thing... I didn’t realize it was that bad. So... she hit you?" she asks uncertainly.

I lift my head to see them looking at me with sadness. I sigh and stand up. I don’t like feeling pitied, but I knew what to expect when I started this topic. My back is turned when Mapi speaks before I can answer.

"She did more than that, didn’t she? How far did that bitch go? I mean, you were so strong before. I never would’ve imagined someone could break you like that."

A few tears escape me. I quickly wipe them away. Mapi’s the only person who can guess the full extent of what she did. No one else here knew the Ona from before. So bold and rebellious.

"She did a lot of things I regret," I whisper.

I turn around and lift my sweater to show them my scars. Their gasps fill the room. Some are burn marks, often from cigarettes. Others are knife wounds that struggled to heal properly, as I was never able to treat them. Looking back, I think some of them should have required hospital care. But I never went. It would have meant reporting Feli and going back home. I feel foolish for never doing it now.

"I’ve never seen those," Mapi admits breathlessly.

"Well, if you think about it, I haven’t undressed in front of you since I got back," I point out.

I was never shy with Mapi since she was my high school girlfriend. We used to undress and change in front of each other without any issues before all this.

"The only time you could’ve seen them was at the pool a few months ago, but you were too busy with Ingrid and Joan," I add with a small smile to lighten the mood.

"Oh yeah, that day," she replies. "But wait, you had trouble going to the pool then?" she realizes with shock.

I bite my lip and nod.

"I didn’t want to go, but I didn’t say anything because everyone was so excited. Lucy scolded me in the changing rooms when you all left. She didn’t know no one else had seen them except her... She reassured me and made me feel comfortable before joining you all."

"Oh my God! But why didn’t you say anything?"

"It’s fine, I’m not dead," I joke. "Lucy is slowly helping me feel more comfortable in my body..." I add, blushing.

She’s the first person I allowed to see me in my underwear, practically at the start of our relationship. Granted, I was in bad shape and in a tough spot because of my withdrawal, but I could have refused her help. Somehow, she managed to earn my trust quickly.

"Does she know she abused you?"

I blush even more than before. Mapi never holds back. I can’t even contradict her because we both know she’s right. I had no shame or fear before Feli.

"No," I whisper. "I told her no to avoid her pitying me. She was already worried enough about everything else."

"You can’t hide that from her," Mapi protests.

Her reaction surprises me, and I’m at a loss for words. It’s such a sensitive topic. I’m already pushing myself to talk to her about it, so telling Lucy... the person I share my bed with... is asking a lot. The worst part is that this happened frequently because of Feli’s violence. She had hormone surges she wanted to satisfy, and I was powerless. I often thanked the drugs for helping me forget half of those moments. Seeing my distress and disconnection, Ale steps in to help me.

"Stop, Mapi. This isn’t an easy thing to discuss, especially not with her girlfriend," she defends me.

"What? If I were in her shoes, I’d want to know!" Mapi retorts.

"Please don’t say that," I reply, feeling some remorse now. "I didn’t want her to pity me about this, or worse, to hold back. I wanted everything to happen at my own pace, with her help, and that’s what happened. »

Ale nods in understanding, while Mapi crosses her arms. I sigh at that.

“I was planning to tell her after our first time, but I’m afraid she might take it badly, or... I don’t know... Her reaction scares me a little.”

“She would have every reason to take it badly,” Mapi grumbles. “She would’ve reacted differently if she’d known!”

“And that’s exactly what I wanted to avoid. You know very well I hate being pitied! That’s not how she would’ve helped me!”

Mapi dramatically sighs and rolls her eyes. I understand her frustration. Mapi is the only one who knew me before all of this. She hates that I’ve become so secretive. I guess she expected me to open up at least with the woman who shares my life so she could take care of me. But this is still my choice.

“And what exactly does she know? And since when? Because if even she doesn’t know everything, I’m not sure how to help you anymore.”

“Come on, you’re exaggerating. She’s known a lot for a while. She knows I was a junkie and that I lived in abandoned places with Feli and the other addicts.”

“She knows why you ran away?” Mapi snaps with a certain bitterness.

“Yes, she knows about my dad’s death in combat, and how close we were. She also knows about the communication problems with my family, especially with my mom... Even though that’s a lot better now.”

“And she knows she was violent?”

“Yes, since Korbin, she knows. Like I said before, she’s the only one who will ever know the details of every one of my scars.”

I say this preemptively to stand my ground. I understand she’s still worried about me after hearing all of this, but she has no right to question my choices. Not about Lucy, nor about what I choose to tell her. Mapi narrows her eyes for a moment before sighing in defeat.

“Fine,” she mutters.

“Lucy has helped you a lot...”

I give a sad smile to Alexia, who seems a bit shocked. The poor thing just learned a lot all at once. I had never told her any of this before. To my surprise, she doesn’t resent me for keeping it from her, judging by the way she continues.

“I remember the first day we met. You brushed me off like never before,” she laughs. “I thought I was in for a rough year, and that we’d never be friends given the anger coming off you…”

The way I acted when I met Alexia is one of my biggest regrets. We’ve become very close since then. Alexia just wanted a friend, having never had one before, and I’m glad she can now count me as one.

“But in the end...” she continues. “Once you faced Lucy, I saw that anger disappear. I don’t know how she did it, but she really helped you work through a lot.”

My shoulders slump at this truth. She understands what my girlfriend has done for me. I nod softly to confirm.

“Yes… That’s exactly what happened. She pushed me physically and mentally with punishments… Yet she always listened and supported me. I questioned myself so many times because of her, and I started to trust her. Once she realized that, she began to rebuild me.”

“You see,” Alexia turns to Mapi. “You’re scolding her for not opening up enough… But I think Lucy already knows.”

“Why do you say that?” my best friend asks, frowning.

“Because Ona has never needed to speak for Lucy to understand that something is wrong.”

I sit at these words. If I were honest with myself, I’d say that’s exactly what I hoped for from Lucy. I pushed her away so many times when things got serious, hoping she’d figure out what I’d been through. Unfortunately, she’s never brought it up. So I don’t know if she knows.

“I’m sorry,” Mapi says. “You’re probably right, Ale. I was so jealous at first of how easily she reads you when I’m supposed to know you best… So yeah… She probably already knows, if I could figure it out.”

“I hope so,” I murmured. “I don’t want to say it out loud.”

“Do you still have trouble with people in general?” Mapi asks me.

“No... Well, school and Lucy in particular have helped me open up to the world again. I still push people away sometimes when they surprise me with touch, but it’s happening less and less. We’re working on it a lot.”

“With Lucy?”

“Yes. She’s helping me regain my confidence. In fact, I finally gave myself to her last week.”

“She’s really had a lot of patience. Kudos to her, because I would never have been able to do what she’s done in such a short time.”

“Totally,” Ale agrees. “It’s no wonder you’re so close. Even if you two hadn’t gotten together, I think you’d have maintained a strong bond that the other students wouldn’t understand.”

“Speaking of school, I forgot to tell you, but Wiegman knows,” I said.

The girls look at me without any visible reaction, taking a moment to process what I said.

“Who’s Wiegman?” Mapi responds.

“What do you mean Wiegman knows?!” Ale exclaims.

“Wiegman knows,” I repeat with a small laugh. “Wiegman is the school principal, and she knows. My management professor, who has a crush on Lucy, talked about us to Wiegman. Lucy was there to hand in her resignation letter, and she confessed. She didn’t want to lie, especially since she was about to leave anyway.”

“Wow!” Mapi exclaims. “She’s lost it!”

“But what happened? Are you two getting expelled?”

“No. We think the fact that she knows my mom helped a lot. She also took Lucy’s resignation into account. Since we’re at the end of the school year, she’s letting us finish, and I’m allowed to continue my evening classes since they’re part of my apprenticeship,” I explain with a shrug. “We just have to keep being discreet because if any student finds out, she won’t be able to do anything to stop us from getting expelled.”

“Wow!” Ale exclaims. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Yep. So… Wiegman knows,” I sighed.

“Lucy really took some big risks.”

“I know. I felt bad when she told me, but it just goes to show that honesty pays off.”

“And when did all of this happen?”

“Yesterday.”

“And then you say nothing interesting happens in your life,” Mapi mutters to Ale, who bursts out laughing.

“Alright, enough about me. What about you two!? You always let me go first.”

I look at them in turn. They glance at each other, and Alexia decides to go ahead.

“Well, nothing special. Alba agreed to meet Jenni at Leah’s party. Of course, Jenni accepted, but she’s terrified,” she laughs. “She’s afraid of Alba’s reaction.”

“Your sister’s a bit of a pain,” Mapi comments.

“A bit, yeah,” she sighs. “It’s partly my fault too. I hid my relationship for way too long. I shouldn’t have.”

“True,” I agreed.

“Have you talked to Lucy about it? Are you two coming?”

I shake my head, crushing her hopes instantly.

“Sorry, but she refused. Since we’re under scrutiny with Wiegman, she really wants to wait until the end of the school year before we go public with my school friends.”

“Damn…” she sighs.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be well surrounded. Misa will be there, I imagine.”

“Yeah…”

“She’s really cool, you know. We helped each other out when you and Alba were called in. Maybe you could do the same for her that night…”

“I’ll see,” she grimaces. “I’m not sure where to place her. She came to tell me, and I quote, ‘we should get to know each other better.’”

“Who’s she? Your sister-in-law?”

“Ew, don’t call her that,” Ale replies.

I laugh heartily. It seems like things still aren’t smooth between them. I know she doesn’t really like her, but she’d be surprised.

“Come on, she’ll be a good help, trust me.”

- Yeah, well, wait. I think Alba plans to spend part of the holidays with us, like, "to make up for lost time," you know? I'm so pissed! I thought we'd finally be able to enjoy some time just the two of us!

I laugh again. I understand how she feels. It’s always like that with Lucy. We plan to be together, and then everything gets turned upside down. It's complicated with family all over the place.  

- And on top of that, you two won't be here, she adds. I heard you're leaving a week early.  

- Yeah, we're going to my grandfather's for the first week. Since we're going to Portugal, we might as well make the most of it, I replied.  

- Yeah, that's true, but once again, you won't be here to back me up, she says, pouting.  

- Either way, we wouldn't have been here. You'll have to wait until the end of the year for that.  

- Damn it, sighs Ale. It's ridiculous. It’s not like our friends would rat you out.

- Oh, you never know! Mapi surprisingly defends us. All it takes is for someone to have something against Lucy or even Ona, and boom, they're screwed.

- Yeah, mumbles Ale, not entirely convinced.

I laugh quietly to myself, but I think that’s exactly what Lucy believes too. That, and maybe the fact that she doesn’t want to get too close to her students before she leaves. I’m giving her some space for now, but once exams are over, she won’t have any more excuses. I definitely plan to introduce her to the whole gang.  

- So, Mapi, what about you? Anything new?  

- Not much. I'm selling my apartment. Preparing for my move... The school accepted my enrollment.  

- That's awesome! Ale comments.  

- Yeah, definitely a good thing. Also, my parents got in touch.  

- No way! What did they want?  

- To spend time together and reconnect, she laughs bitterly. Apparently, they wanted to check in on me and see how I was doing.  

- Ouch. Any hidden agenda?  

- No idea. I refused. I plan to spend my vacation here getting settled. I told them that and mentioned I have a girlfriend. When they started giving me grief about it, I hung up.  

- No surprise, I grimaced. They didn’t even ask how you were doing before that?  

- Nope. They started by asking how school’s going, if I’m doing well... Same old. I guess they still don’t have anyone to take over their stupid business. I wasn’t planning on seeing them again anyway. They probably thought I’d changed my mind about how I live. They still haven’t realized I’ll never be straight or take over their damn succession.  

- But what exactly do they hold against you? Ale asks calmly.  

- Well, exactly what I just said. Being a lesbian and loving engineering, which they consider a "man’s job." They would’ve preferred me to inherit the family business and start a family with a man for the succession. I’ve always refused. There’s no way I’m pretending to be someone I’m not for people who were never there for me.  

I smile sadly. She rarely talks about her family, even to me. All I know is that they’re rich, always off on business trips, and were never around. The day of her accident was the turning point for her. They couldn’t even be there for her, so she not only rejected her inheritance but also cut ties with them. I knew it was hard for her. Despite what she says, she values family a lot. I can tell when she’s with mine. She’s always said I had nothing to complain about. I find it awful that her parents want her to be someone she’s not. I’m glad she’s finally found some peace in her life thanks to Ingrid.  

- Anyway, no more news from them. I’m living my life, about to join you guys, and it’s about time. I’m really happy about that.  

- And how’s your leg?  

- It’s doing better. The pain is less frequent. But I know it’ll never fully heal. I was told that after the first surgeries.  

- Do you need another operation soon?  

- No, your mom managed to avoid that. We found other solutions. Better physios,… Anyway, they’ll never be able to fully fix it.  

- What happened, with that? Ale asks hesitantly.  

- Car accident. Wasn’t even my fault, she jokes with a laugh. A drunk driver crashed head-on into my mom and me. My knee got completely crushed. According to all the doctors, I was very lucky, if not miraculous, to have saved it.  

My heart sinks every time she talks about it. She was heading home with her mom when it happened. Mapi was the most injured since the car hit her side. The man in the other car flew through the windshield and didn’t make it. Her mom was the least hurt, with just a broken arm and a few cracked ribs. They were rushed to the hospital, especially Mapi, whose knee was shattered. Their father joined them at the hospital. What I find disgusting is that once her mom recovered, her parents didn’t stay with her. Mapi was a teenager, and legally, they shouldn’t have left her alone. But they did. They went back on business trips for days. They only visited occasionally to check on her progress. Mapi had to go through several surgeries alone, with no support. Then came the physical therapy, where they’d just drop her off at the doctors without asking if she needed help. She’s always said that the best thing her parents did for her was bringing her to Barcelona. They were advised to go to the best surgeons there. That’s when we met at school, and my mom started visiting her at the hospital since she was always alone. She’s always told me that her real family is us.  

- By the way, did you call your mom about the wedding?  

- What wedding? Ale asks.  

I blush in embarrassment. I didn’t even have time to tell her. My God, I really need to get back to reality.  

- My mom’s getting married to her partner. I called her this morning, and I agreed to be her maid of honour.  

Mapi practically explodes with joy, jumping on me. I laugh softly. I know she’s always wanted us to get along better since she’s always gotten along with my mom.  

- No way? Oh, I’m so happy! So, you’re going?  

- Of course, I roll my eyes. It’ll be after the exams. June 18th.  

- Oh no, Ale groans. You won’t even be here for my birthday!  

- Really? When’s your birthday? I ask.  

- Well… the 18th, she laughs.  

- Damn. No, we definitely won’t be here, I chuckle. We’ll probably head to Barcelona right after the exams to help with the preparations and all that. Lucy suggested it to get a break before the exam results come out.  

- Oh, that’s even better! You’ll be with me then! Can Ingrid come too?  

- My mom will probably invite her too, so yeah, of course, I laugh.  

- Well, I’m still upset. No one will be here for my birthday, Ale says, crossing her arms.  

- Oh, come on, we’ll celebrate your birthday, don’t worry.  

I say, giving her a hug. The last thing I want is to not celebrate her birthday.  

- Yeah. We’ll do it when we’re back. Maybe a night out, something with lots of drinks! It would do us good.  

- Speaking of drinks, I saw a bottle of champagne in the fridge. Anyone interested?  

- Yeah! Mapi exclaims. Go ahead, pop it open!

We laugh as Ale gets up to grab it. A glass of champagne sounds good tonight. I needed to unwind, and since Lucy is picking me up later, I don’t hesitate to have a drink or two, especially after Ale pulls out the rest of the alcohol from the other night.

Saturday, March 26; 2:50 AM - Jenni and Alexia's Apartment.

- Darling, someone murmurs to me.

I groan, burying my head into something soft, like a pillow. I recognize Lucy’s touch as she runs her hand through my hair, a little mocking laugh escaping her.

- Come on, get up. I need a little help.

I sigh contentedly, blinking my eyes open. It’s hard to keep them open, even though there’s no light in the room.

- You can stay here if you want, I hear Jenni offer.

- No, no. We’re heading home. Come on, babe, at least sit up so I can carry you.

I groan as she pulls my arms, trying to sit me up. I never know where she gets her strength, but somehow, she always manages. I have a slight headache. I definitely overdid it with the drinks tonight. I don't even know what time it is. Wrapping my arms around my girlfriend, I teasingly pull her toward me. She laughs before pressing her lips to mine.

- You’re not going to make this easy, are you?

- Nope, I grumble.

Too tired to fight back, I let my head fall onto her shoulder. She takes advantage of my state to pull me to the edge of the couch, then lifts me by holding me firmly by the thighs. My limp body betrays me, collapsing entirely against her.

- Thanks again for the evening.

- Will you be okay? Jenni asks her.

- Oh, yeah. It’s not the first time I’ve had to carry her, she jokes.

- Alright, she laughs. Be careful on your way back. Text me when you’re home.

- I will. Thanks.

I hear the door close as Lucy moves, followed by the sound of the elevator. I wait until the doors close to speak.

- You’re not mad at me? I mumble.

- Mad at you for what, baby? she whispers.

She gives me a little bounce to adjust her grip on my body. I groan softly at the jostling.

- For drinking too much, I whisper into her neck.

I’m being honest, because I know she knows. We didn’t have time to clean up the bottles, and I must reek of alcohol. I'd rather be upfront than face a scolding.

- No, she surprises me by saying. Not in this environment, where it’s safe.

A long breath of relief escapes me. She kisses my temple and finally exits when we reach the ground floor. I can feel the cold, and I realize I don’t have my jacket on.

- I’m warning you, once we get to our building, you’re walking up. You’re getting heavy, I swear.

I laugh into her neck as best I can, but I nod. I figure by the time we get there, I’ll be somewhat awake. Somehow, Lucy manages to get me into the car, and I hear the door shut before she walks around to the driver’s side. That’s when I notice my jacket is draped over my lap. I decide to put it on to stay warm.

- I love you, you know that? I say, in the middle of the drive, making my girlfriend laugh.

- Yeah, babe. I think I’m aware, she teases.

- Why are you laughing? It’s not funny. I’m being very serious! I huff.

- I’m not laughing.

- Yes, you are!

- Well, only because you’re the most adorable thing when you’re drunk. I forgot how happy you get in these moments.

- Does that mean I can drink again? I say excitedly.

- I never forbade you from drinking, she sighs.

- Yes, you did at the beginning.

- Yeah, but back then, you weren’t as responsible as you are now. And the places you frequented weren’t exactly the safest.

- Blah, blah, blah.

- Babe, she giggles. Don’t pick a fight in such a nice moment.

- Hmm, I reply, stretching. I’ll try not to, I tease.

We arrive at our building, and Lucy parks in the underground garage. This time, she doesn’t carry me up, but she still helps me stay upright and even undress me a little once we get to our apartment.

- Can I wear one of your shirts? I mumble as I collapse onto the bed.

- Of course.

I’m down to my underwear as she rummages through our closet. I take off my bra without any hesitation. Partly because I’m drunk, partly because I’ve become comfortable with Lucy since we made love.

- Here, she says, tossing me one.

I put it on quickly and slide under the covers, watching Lucy change. Once she’s done, she joins me in bed. I barely have time to snuggle up to her before I feel myself drifting off. I can still feel her lips against mine just before I fall asleep.

- Good night, my love.

- Good night, baby, I mumble back.

[ghostbustting]

Ok so,firstly hiii! I love your writing style sm!

Would you ever consider doing a Cliff or Jason one shot where the reader is super self conscious about her being “plus-size” and “not being a typical rockstar girlfriend” and them comforting her and it leads to some really sweet love making 😭

Cliff is my number one man and I hardly see any fics for him fr

CLIFFCLIFFCLIFF !! (yes i'm back. yes i'm disappearing again.)

♯ ; 𝑴𝒀 𝑮𝑰𝑹𝑳 ༘⋆

Cliff Burton x Plus size!Reader

Contains Smut.

With my own fingers fiddling with the hem of my uncomfortably fitting dress, my eyes wander around the diner booth we were all sitting at. By we, I was referring to me, my boyfriend Cliff, his three bandmates, and their awfully drop dead gorgeous girlfriends.

It was a relaxing Saturday night, Cliff had brought me with him to go have dinner with his bandmates and their girlfriends at some local diner.

However, the rest of the dinner night, I felt like I do not belong here, like I could never fit in well between these rockstars and their girlfriends. No matter how reassuring and comforting having Cliff's presence close next to me, it didn't make me oblivious to how much of a contrast the difference between me and his bandmates' girlfriends is.

They were perfectly good looking to say the least. Thin figures, curves accentuated perfectly in their tight dress they probably didn't have to overthink much about, no thunder thighs filling up their seats, smiles so wide without their cheeks looking like they're swollen.

On the other hand, I stood out... not in a very pleasing way. It's more like as if I was a sore thumb. My eyes could never stand the numbers that showed up on the weight scales whenever I stood on it. The beautiful small dresses I saw down the streets would never fit the shape of my body.

Cliff made it his task to make me feel loved, and I knew he really do love me. But it doesn't change the fact that I'm not what people expected, doesn't change the fact that I'm not the ideal rockstar's girlfriend.

So here I sat next to him, head hung low, the food I had ordered barely touched, my ears not even picking up on the conversation around me, eyes focused on getting the end of my dress to cover more of my insecure legs.

Even with my mind overwhelmed with that irritating sense of insecurity, the concerned gaze on me that came from Cliff’s eyes were something that I could never ignored, something so familiar that it would always hit me right away whenever I receive it, something I could recognize easily every single time.

It didn’t took long before I feel his warm hands take ahold of my cold ones, the pads of his thumbs running over my knuckles as I hear his beautiful voice whisper softly and gently into my ear, “Are you alright..? You feel sick..?” He asked, the worry accentuated enough in his voice.

However, I try to cover it up, “I’m alright..” I whisper back while shaking my head with a soft smile— a smile so forced and fake that obviously someone that knew me so well and so detailed like Clifford Lee Burton wouldn’t be fooled by.

”You’re not,” Cliff spoke, with an attempt to drown all the insecurity in me with his soft gaze, “I know my happy girlfriend when I see her and this is not her.”

A sigh leave my lips and my eyes look up at him, meeting his own in an instant. He could see the weak and soft gaze of my eyes, the way my eyebrows are slightly furrowed as if I was thinking about something. He can read me like a damn opened book and I can't decide whether I hate or love him for it.

My thoughts drifted away when I hear the man spoke again, this time towards his friends, patting Kirk's back, who was sitting on the chair beside him. "Sorry, it's getting late. We have.. other plans." He say.

That was in fact, not true. I was not aware of any other plans we have scheduled after this dinner.

Hence, a look of genuine confusion was etched onto my face as he took ahold of my hand and pull me up from my seat, giving me no time to say goodbyes or grab one last french fries when he lead me out of the diner with no words of explanation.

We found ourselves driving back to his place in a weird yet comforting silence. One of Cliff’s hands was holding onto mine while the other was fixated on the steering wheel. I can feel his thumb running over my knuckles every now and then, a gesture of comfort I’m used to receive from him.

My eyes drift from our hands to the window, watching as cars drove pass us, watching the motorcycles, watching as teenagers party, craving the body those gorgeous girls possess. My eyes would still run over their perfect figure if it wasn't for Cliff's voice that snapped me out of my trance.

"What's with you tonight?"

He asked. Usually, words like that would be taken as somewhat a complain. But with Cliff, it was clear by his voice that he was asking me out of concern. He wasn't wrong about knowing a happy me and a not happy me, it was quite easy. I would've been smiling to my eyes when I'm happy, words spilling out of my lips endlessly, unlike the state I was in earlier.

A sigh left my lips as I slowly turn my attention back to Cliff, the lights of Los Angeles and the red traffic light combined with the beautiful moonlight illuminates his face, his eyes shining more than how they already were.

"I.."

"Honest. Please. I hate not seeing your smile."

A squeeze of his hand was delivered to mine, making my heart flutter just the slightest bit. There was no way in hell I'm able to decline his plead for honesty.

Slowly, I begin to speak again, a hint of uncertainty was able to be heard in the words that left my lips in a quiet question. "..Do you ever regret dating me?" I ask, my voice soft, eyes avoiding his own as I feel that same exact concerned gaze over my face the moment his head instantly snapped my way.

I could feel his gaze on me for a few minutes until the light turned green, taking his focus again as he continue driving before asking me, "Wha— why would I regret dating you? Don't be silly." He chuckled softly, taking my hand up to his lips to kiss my knuckles.

The gesture was sweet, bringing a soft smile on my face. However, It didn't take too long before my smile faded away yet again slowly as my previous thoughts of insecurity builds back up in my mind. It was like a parasite, unable to be avoided.

”It’s just..” I let out a sigh, “James, Kirk, Lars...— They have these drop dead gorgeous girls as their girls. They’re beautiful, they’re in good shape, they’re— they’re the perfect rockstar girlfriend.”

Only when I feel the car stop and park did I realize we have arrived in front of his house, away from the chaos of the traffic, the door that leads to the inside of the house seems so inviting as my body yearns to just lay on his bed. Meanwhile, the silence between us felt somehow loud, if that even makes sense. And again, his eyes gazes over me.

Cliff let out a small chuckle, “So that’s the problem? You think I’d regret dating you because of this?—” He reach out and pinch the chubby cheek of mine, pulling on it slightly. My eyes slowly gaze up into his own, revealing my glassy eyes to him. A sigh leave his lips as he cup one of my cheeks. “You think I care about whether you’re as skinny as a branch or as fluffy as a pillow?”

I let out a small strangled chuckle at his words, trying to turn my head away, to which he prevent by cupping both of my cheeks now. “I don’t want a rockstar girlfriend. I just want my girlfriend. I just want you. I want you for your heart, for your smile, for your love.” Cliff spoke so sincerely it was impossible to not believe him, especially with how deep his eyes was gazing into mine.

The smile he made at my speechless state melts my heart, listening as he say, “Come on.” Shortly after, I watch him exit the car and jog around the front only to open the door on my side of the car, the sweet smile making a stay on his face as he reach for my hand and help me out, his other hand shutting the door behind me the moment my shoes lands on the ground.

Each and every move of his only made me love him even more.

My body stayed close to him, almost as if we were attatched like magnets, all the way as he leads me into his house and into his bedroom, his hand holding mine so firmly yet gently at the same time, as if he was afraid I’d slip away, as if he was afraid the insecurity will consume me and fade me away from his life. I always loved the way he touched me, always able to make me feel loved, even the moment I lost hope in loving myself, he always made me love myself with his own love.

Slowly, I sit down on the soft matress of his bed, a spot we often find ourself laying in after a tiring day, just wrapping each other in the other’s arms, where our problems never exist, only our bloomin love.

I feel the mattres beside me sink due to Cliff’s weight as he join me, sitting on the bed as well with his hand in mine still, the pad of his thumb running over my knuckles again and again softly, a motion I’ve found rather comforting. I can feel his lips pressing soft kisses all over my cheek, yet my head was hung low, eyes on my lap.

Yet the moment he notices, he held my chin in his free hand, slowly tilting my head towards him. “Look at me.” He smile softly, making me look at him. “I want you to let your mind rest, okay? Let go of your thoughts..” His voice was soft, I couldn’t help but give in and follow the instruction he gave me, letting my thoughts drift away, letting my focus to be for him and him only.

”My girl..” He breathed out, slowly leaning in till our lips eventually meet in a soft and gentle kiss, his palm coming to rest against my cheek, the other that was previousky holding my hand slowly trails to hold my waist instead, gently pushing me down to lay on my back, my head landing smoothly on his pillow.

I sigh against his lips and watch as he lay himself down next to me, mumbling, "Cliff.." The way his hands touch me all over made me felt important, as if I was the center of the earth. To him, I probably was. After all, he never failed to make me feel that way.

Within seconds, I feel my shirt slowly being slipped over my head, my hands coming to cover my body. Despite how many times we've done this, being bare and showing the insecurity I own beneath the fabric always rewinds. Yet, Cliff only chuckled and moved my hands away, his lips pressing a short peck on my stomach.

"Beautiful." In an instant, the tenses in my body relaxes as I hear his voice, a comforting and loving lullaby.

I feel his lips press and trail kisses all the way from my stomach down to the them of my panties, his fingers slowly hooking into the waistband and sliding it down, his eyes gazing up to inspect the way I was bitting my lip from his action alone.

The moment that panties of mine was discarded, Cliff's lips were quick to attach onto my cunt— desperate, yet gentle.

A moan manage to escape my lips, a soft call of his name, "Cliff.." His name seems to be the only thing available in my dictionary at the moment, finding it difficult to let out anything from the back of my throat other than a moan, curses, and his name.

Cliff's warm tongue slides in and out of me, the very tip of his nose nudging my clit every now and then as he eat me out, ignoring the way I was squirming above him, my hand trailing down to run through his long hair. "Fuck.." I whined, my hips bucking up to try and grind against his face.

His tongue was lapping up and down my folds like a dog, a hungry dog. He makes me feel wanted. And I can't help but want him as well.

Not long, he pull back from my pussy with his lips glistening with my slick, his fingers replacing what was once his tongue, two of them running up and down my folds before sliding through them, earning a gasp from me. I feel his lips against my thigh, yet I was too caught up on the feeling of his fingers.

"Can you feel it?"

My eyes struggles to meet his as I utter out a, "What— Feel what..?" Through my moans.

"Just how much I love you."

Right as the words leave his lips, I finshed right around his fingers, clenching the digits as I did so with a loud and uncontrollable moan, my back arching like a cat you'd see down the streets.

I hear a small chuckle and a gentle, "Good girl. My girl." Before I see him stand up, his hands going to his belt as he unbuckles it, swiftly throwing it away and slipping his jeans and boxers both at once, not even wasting his time for even just a second.

Seconds later, before I knew it, he was back on top of me, his body towering over mine as he lean down to press a kiss on my cheek, "My tonight, my tomorrow, my tomorrow night, my every night, and my every day are yours okay? I can't live through this without your sweet soul." He spoke with so much genuineness in his voice.

My thoughts evaporates into thin air as he slowly slides his cock through my folds, pulling out soft noises of pleasure from both of us as one of his hands came to rest on the pillow beside my head while the other holds my own hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it before he starts thrusting in and out of me, very gently.

Unlike the rather passionate love making we have done before, he was being extremely gentle this time, passionate still— yet mostly gentle and full of care as his eyes never broke the contact they had with my own eyes, a window that connects our souls.

I feel the tip of his cock hitting every special spots in me without even having to do it hard and fast. He knew me. The real me that lay upon all these insecurity. He knew me all too well. Yet he didn't even have to try. It was like nature have his own way with connecting us.

"I love you too.." I blurted out, a soft moan pulled out of the back of my throat as I slowly close my eyes.

Yet I feel his lips again, this time on my closed eyelids. "Don't close your eyes. I want you to look into my eyes and look deeply. So deep to the point you can see how much love I have." He spoke. Within seconds, my eyes were opened again and stared into his eyes again.

And just as he says, there was a certain look he had on.

A look of love.

So sweet. So deep. So tender.

His hips continue to move against mine, soft grunts slipping through his lips as my walls hug his cock just right. "Fuck.. My girl.." After he mumble this, his arms slowly wrap around my torso, his bodg pressed flushed against mine while his thrusts now becomes more deep, still in the gentle pace he was in earlier.

"Cliff..." I breathed out, my own arms around his body. Each time his cock thrusts into me, a moan would be pulled out of me while a grunt would be pull out of his, both of us becoming closer each seconds we spend in this bed.

"Come with me, sweetheart?.."

"Only with you.. Only with you.."

Not long, I feel an all too familiar knot in my stomach as he continue to hit every weak spot of mine. The way his lips were attached onto my neck and sucking marks wasn't helping with the feeling either. He could be so soft, yet I'll still be the most pleased girl in the earth. His girl.

Before I knew it, my high came crashing down around his cock, letting out a loud moan as his own seeds fill me up, his voice mumbled against my neck as he stayed close to me after our finish. I breathe in and out, all the troubles I had stomped away by a single love making.

But I knew it wasn't the love making

It was him.

He was clinging onto me like a koala, his head in my neck and his arms wrapped around me still yet so tightly, hands stroking my body in an affectionate way. He loves me. It was becoming clearer and clearer each day I spend here with him. He wants me for me. I was too blind to see the way it's all too obvious from his care, from his words, from his eyes.

And I love him too.

My boy.

[abarbaricyalp]

Bed, Beignets, Birthdays, and Other B Things Sam Wilson Likes

Happy birthday, Cap! 🎉 // AO3 Link 🛏🥐🎂

Sam’s arm fell to the other side of the bed and landed on a warm chest instead of cool sheets. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before turning over and sneaking a glance at the man next to him. Scared, just for a moment, that this might slip away if he actually looked.

Bucky was already awake, but he was still sleep rumpled, impression lines crossing his face and chest, hair a mess. Sam wondered if he could convince him to cut it now. Surely he was more susceptible to the idea when it was all tangled in the morning. Then again, Sam figured if the whole ‘your secret identity will be harder to figure out if you cut off your trademark mane’ hadn’t worked, he didn’t think a few knots would either.

“You stayed,” he yawned and stretched his arms into Bucky’s space.

Bucky’s fingers fell across one of Sam’s hands, traced over the lines of his metacarpals lightly. “It’s your birthday,” he said simply. “Thought I should at least buy you breakfast. Give you a day off.”

Sam smiled at the idea. Not hunting down rogue bases and ghost stories was fine by him. It seemed like a lovely day outside. The seasons were actually turning here and there was a crispness he could feel even without opening the window. It made him press closer to Bucky’s chest, hiding his head under Bucky’s jaw. Bucky’s arms went around him, his left arm slow in caution and also because he was laying on it.

“Maybe I like chasing you down,” Sam suggested.

“You like pastries more,” Bucky pointed out. And that was true. Food in general, but breakfast desserts were a favorite. And they were in Paris of all places. Sam really could not envision a better day.

“You got any other plans for the day?” Sam asked. “Or are you gonna disappear as soon as I turn my back on you outside?”

“I don’t plan on letting you outside,” Bucky admitted. “My plans involved getting you in the shower and then back in this bed. Everything else can be ordered in.”

Sam hummed. That did sound like a really good plan. “Can I open the window?”

“We’re on a fourth floor, so I don’t think that many people will be able to hear you. Go for it.”

Sam lifted his head enough to watch Bucky’s face until it broke into a grin. “Oh, that kind of day in bed, huh?” he asked.

Bucky’s fingers moved up Sam’s back. “That kind of day in bed,” he agreed and turned onto his back, pulling Sam over him as he went. His fingers went back to tracing Sam’s spine and Sam tried not to shiver with it. He didn’t succeed.

“If you were gonna ask for something today, what would it be?” Bucky asked.

Sam raised an eyebrow and took his own turn to brush his fingers over Bucky’s chest–the line of hair traveling down his pecs, a birthmark against his ribs, a scar under his collarbone, which Sam weirdly had a matching one to. They’d both gotten them when they were kids, lifetimes before they knew each other or had any shared life experience. Except, Sam supposed, falling out of a tree and hitting every branch on the way down.

“Use pet names today,” he decided. “Don’t call me Wilson.”

“What about–”

“Sam and all your terrible variations are fine,” Sam added.

Bucky grinned up at him. “Alright, doll,” he agreed. “That one’s easy enough to give you.” He sat up so they were shoulder to shoulder, chest to chest, hip to hip. It made Sam light-headed and he tilted forward to catch Bucky’s mouth on his and also steady himself.

Bucky kissed like he thought it was the last thing he was going to do. Sam refused to consider the legitimacy of that fear. Bucky was intense and excited. Sometimes it felt like running into a brick wall and sometimes he opened up like an endless expanse of soft lips and searching hands. Sometimes the brick wall came down between them, and then tilted forward for extra kisses, with a hand on Sam’s chest, pushing him back.

“Wait, wait,” Bucky panted and then took another three kisses. “Shower first,” he encouraged. “I have a plan for today.”

“What about food?” Sam asked.

Bucky grinned at him and it made Sam’s stomach turn over in the most desirable way. “Well, I’m gonna eat,” he said oh-so innocently. “But I don’t know how long it’s gonna take, so I figured we could order in later.”

Sam was nodding before Bucky even finished talking. “Yeah, alright,” he agreed, pulling Bucky into another kiss.

He was expecting it when Bucky stood and lifted him in the same motion, but it still made him go light headed all over again. He kind of loved it when Bucky did that. It made him feel young and spontaneous and it was so damn hot.

“Happy birthday, baby,” Bucky breathed against Sam’s chest, where he seemed to be trying to kiss his way to Sam’s heart.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed dazedly. “And here’s to many more.”

“Well you’ve still got to get through this one,” Bucky teased.

Sam shivered and curled his arms around the back of Bucky’s neck. He kind of thought this wouldn’t be such a bad way to go. But he was fully planning on doing this again next year.

Read the rest on AO3

[halfbit]

fun guessing game you get to have with your family when you're mixed: was the shit they pulled racially motivated or not

[theflyingfeeling]

still sick but alive, unfortunately 🤧

[feluka]

Two Palestinian Families At Risk

One, Mohammed and his wife Manal. They have five children, the oldest of which is only seventeen, and the youngest a newborn whose mother is struggling to breastfeed due to her own malnutrition.

Two, Shaimaa and her husband Mahmoud. They also have five children, the oldest of which is only eighteen, and the youngest eight.

Mohammed and Shaimaa are the brother and sister of @wafans-blog, who succeeded to raise funds for her own immediate family's evacuation, and is now seeking to do the same for her siblings, nephews, and nieces, while she is currently receiving urgent medical care in Egypt.

I can't possibly list all the horrors that the twelve of them have faced. I can only name some:

Evacuation order after evacuation order, from unsafe zone to unsafe zone.

Going three days without food while under siege.

Constant illness, hunger, and panic.

Eldest children, not even adults yet, going into active warzones to seek food.

Infant child suffering from a vitamin deficiency due to lack of milk, his sickly mother deprived of postpartum care and battling malnutrition, amidst the unsanitary conditions.

The border could open in the following days, and we have already let these two families down by not reaching their long term goal of 80k by that time, but the least we could do is to raise enough to evacuate as many of them in the next few days.

Number 260 on this vetted list of evacuation fundraisers.

Tagging for reach under the cut:

@timetravellingkitty @meaganfoster @briarhips @aces-and-angels @mahoushojoe 

@rhubarbspring @schoolhater @pcktknife @transmutationisms @sawasawako 

@appsa @terroristiraqis @irhabiya @commissions4aid-international @wellwaterhysteria

@mangocheesecakes @kyra45-helping-others @marnota @7bitter @tortiefrancis 

@toiletpotato @fromjannah @omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoid @criptochecca 

@aristotels @komsomolka @neptunerings @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @heritageposts 

@ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @communistchilchuck @dykesbat 

@watermotif @stuckinapril @violentrevolution @mavigator @lacecap 

@socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @deepspaceboytoy @post-brahminism @junglejim4322 @kibumkim @neechees 

[clockwayswrites]

A bird what now? part 9

birdritch masterpost

"It will make him easy to keep an eye on,” Tim said.

Bruce sighed but gave a little nod. That was true. Even if this was nothing nefarious, they would have to keep an eye on Danny just to make sure that it wasn’t a reoccurring event. After all, with those running around like Clay Face, Man Bat, and Killer Croc there are plenty of people who had gotten turned into creatures and inhuman beings through: both their own fault and not. Bruce certainly hoped whatever was going on wasn’t the result of something being worked on at WE, but he would certainly have to meet with Lucius soon and double check that. It could always be something that Danny was working on in his own time or could have nothing to do with the company at all.

Gotham wasn’t exactly the safest place as far as chemicals in the water and air went. Though Bruce had been doing what he could through his own funds, initiatives at WE, and through his connections with the mayor. At least this mayor seemed like a good one (or as good as Gotham could hope for at the moment).

Progress could be slow, which was sometimes hard to accept.

“Put the bag on the table, Red Robin,” Bruce said with a little bit of a sigh in his words. Enter

“But B come on—” Tim started with a little furrow of his brow.

Bruce crouched down a little to meet Tim’s eyes. “I understand your inclination, Red Robin, you know I do. But we have enough information to look into this without invading what little privacy he has after waking up in the situation that he just did.”

“Oh,” Tim looked down at the bag and closed the flap over. “I guess I just… hadn’t thought about it like that.”

“I know, chum,” Bruce said. He squeezed Tim’s shoulder gently. “Go put the bag on the table for him and get yourself some coffee.”

“Coffee, coffee sounds amazing,” Tim said, mostly to himself, as he went to follow orders.

Bruce stuck his hands in the sweat pants he was wearing and trailed after Tim. He’d let his kids who needed the coffee go first, but he could really use some himself to deal with this morning. He stopped by Jason where the other was leaning against the meeting table and rubbing at the edges of his domino.

“Who thought Bat paranoia would pay off with us all putting these stupid things back on after showering,” Jason grumbled.

Bruce gave a soft ‘hm’.

“You got that good cream in stock? Cause this shit is going to itch wearing these all night.”

Bruce gave a little nod. “I’ll make sure you have a tub to take with you. Thank you for staying last night to watch over the family.”

“…yeah, sure old man.”

With a brief clasp to Jason’s shoulder, Bruce stepped up for his turn to get some coffee. Contrary to the easy jokes, Bruce didn’t enjoy his coffee dark and brooding like his soul and added a decent amount of cream to his cup.

“I don’t suppose that there’s enough in the pot for me?”

To his credit, Danny Fenton didn’t flinch as multiple white lensed gazes turned towards him. There was some water dripping off his hair, landing at his bare feet next to the too long sweatpants legs. Nightwing’s pants, Bruce’s mind supplied, just based on Fenton’s build. Though oddly the sweatshirt was definitely Bruce’s and absolutely swallowed Fenton.

Fenton reached up up and pulled the collar of the sweatshirt up over his freckled and scarred shoulder.

Scarred?

“Certainly,” Bruce said and reached for a mug. “Cream? Sugar?”

“A little of both, thank you,” Fenton said. He looked to his side as Cass came up to him and let her herd him to the table with a soft huff.

The rest of the Bats made their way there. Bruce set the mug down in front of Fenton and took the open seat to his left.

“What do you remember from last night.

Fenton took a long sip of his coffee before he spoke. “I left work about eight twenty.”

“That’s pretty late,” Tim interjected.

Fenton shrug and a gave half smile. “I have a habit of losing time, much to the annoyance of my boss. He’s who sent me home. I stopped and grabbed some food before I headed through Robinson park towards the station on the other side. Normally there’s no issue, but suddenly the vines were active and there was some sort of commotion off to my left.”

Bruce glanced towards Dick who gave a slight incline of his head. The commotion must have been them.

“My phone was dead— s’why I didn’t get my alarm to leave work, so I couldn’t check out if it was anything major,” Fenton continued. “I tried to back up and get out of the park but I was pretty surrounded. I wouldn’t have been too worried, but there was this flower, big and bold red. It popped and that’s the last clear thing I remember. After that it’s just… panic? I remember the flower was bad, my lungs felt like they were burning. I had to protect someone? Someones? And then there was a level of comfort. Then I woke up here.” Fenton’s hands hand tightened around his mug as he talked until he had a white knuckled clutch on it. “I’m hoping you all can fill in a few pieces.”

“Some,” Dick said. He leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. “Red Hood, Red Robin, and myself, Nightwing, were dealing with some criminals who were trying to bury a body in the park.”

“Really?” Fenton said incredulously. “Why did they think Posion Ivy would be okay with anyone digging in her park? Like sure, technically fertilizer, but really?”

“Right?” Dick agreed with a smile. “She was pretty unhappy. I’m assuming that’s what made the vines agitated. Sorry about that.”

Fenton gave a little shrug. “Not like you all were trying to bury a body. At least not this time?”

Jason barked out a laugh at that that Bruce’s look didn’t quell at all. He just flicked Bruce off.

“Nope,” Dick continued, undeterred, “we just stopped then and then were trying to calm Pamela— Ivy down. That’s when you showed up, except you weren’t exactly… you.”

With excellent timing as always, Tim pulled up a still from his camera onto the monitor of the bird entity. Fenton paled to an alarming degree.

“What?” he croaked.

“This bird creature— you— crashed onto the scene,” Dick said as Tim let the video play. “Don’t worry, you were nonviolent. Well, at least not to anything other than Ivy’s plants.”

On screen Fenton’s bird form was wailing on a carnivorous flower as he pulled Nightwing to safety.

“Oh Ancients,” Fenton said and buried his face in his shaking hands.

“Mostly you just collected us. Cuddle pollen causes people to need living warmth and it was obvious that you were dosed as your feathers were covered in it, which then affected all of us also.”

“Most of us. I’m smart enough to wear a fucking mask,” Jason said.

“I always thought that was smart,” Fenton said weakly as he pulled his gaze back up to the screen. “I really didn’t hurt anyone?”

“Only Robin’s pride,” Tim chirped.

Damian growled back.

“Okay. Okay that’s… that’s good. I, um… yeah, that’s new. The bird thing. That’s new,” Fenton said as he watched the video play out until Red Robin’s camera was obscured by feathers.

Bruce reached out to rest his hand across Fenton’s shoulder blades, tapping out a rhythm for him to breathe to.

Fenton sent him a shaky smile.

“Unsure about what you were, but knowing you had been affected by cuddle pollen and were… collecting my children, bringing you back to the cave seemed the best action,” Bruce explained. “As most of us were affected, it was easiest to stay close. It was unexpected to wake up to you being human.”

“Yeah, yeah I bet,” Fenton agreed. His gazed was glued to the screen again, the new now from Black Bat’s camera. “I wouldn’t have expected it either. That’s… yeah. That’s new.”

Bruce caught Cass’s attention and got a subtle assurance back. Fenton didn’t know why he had become a bird either. At least that decreased the chance of the man having been experimenting on himself.

“Do you work with chemicals at work?” Bruce asked. He would of course find this out from Lucius, but Fenton shouldn’t suspect that.

Fenton blinked at him. “What? Oh, no. Basic things, solder and acetone and the such. Nothing that should have any wild effects.” He hesitated then, chewing on his lips as his eyes flicked from Bruce to the screen where he was currently snagging Black Bat with one of the many legs. “But I was exposed to a lot of weird stuff as a kid. My parents had… poor lab safety and I really didn’t know any better. I guess that something in the flowers… reacted really badly? If there was some other triggers or something around in the air. That’s all I can think, but it had to be one hell of an environmental cocktail and not one I want to repeat.”

Bruce could believe Fenton’s aversion with the way he trembled under Bruce’s hand.

-

“You’ll be alright.” Danny wasn’t sure if that was a question or a statement, so he nodded and put on the best smile he could at the moment. “Well, I’m currently not a giant bird entity so I think so.”

They were tucked away in an alley close enough to home that Danny could walk it. The attempt at privacy didn’t make it any less weird to be standing there in borrowed clothing and talking to Batman who sat atop an intimidating looking motorcycle. Danny hoped it was still hellishly early enough to avoid most of the scrutiny of his neighbors.

Batman went still for a moment in a way that had Danny tilting his head before the man reached into his utility belt and handed over a black keyfob of some sort.

“It’s an emergency beacon. Twist it one-eighty and press the button for three seconds and we will have your location. If you’re exposed to something odd or fear you might shift, use it.”

“In case I’m a danger?”

“In case you need help, including if you’re irrational and need a safe space to calm down.”

Danny chewed on his lip for a moment before he held out his hand. He tried to ignore the tremor in it, even if the shaking was blatantly obvious. Batman set the fob in his hand with surprising gentleness.

“Use it if you need it.”

“Okay.” Danny took a step back. “Thanks for the ride back, even if I had to be blindfolded for it.”

“Precautions.”

Danny just shrugged. “You have a family to protect, I get it. Keep them safe.”

Batman gave a little nod and Danny took that as his chance to head out of the alleyway and quickly down the street to his apartment. He needed food and to call Sam.

No, he needed to push up that visit to see Frostbite.

---

AN: Can't believe there's 3 chapters of this silliness now. Didn't expect to get this far, but really needed something with no stress to write after the morning I had. Doing my best to hang in there. Stay delightful, darlings.

[bunnys-kisses]

Hi bunny!

Can I please have Belgian waffles, angel food cake and on the house ( hopefully that is the correct thing to say) with max or danny or both 🫶

Love all you have written 🫶🫶

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! it's great to hear what orders you come up with! as for this lovely request from @biancathecool thank you! and yes i can write for the other two drivers you sent in another message (their names escape me as i write this), but yes! hit me with it!! thank you! enjoy!

belgian waffles ("i cum in that every night.") + angel food cake ("if he fucks with me again, i'm finishing inside of you.") + on the house: coffee (rivals au) served by max verstappen & daniel ricciardo (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, threesome, maxiel + reader, rivals au, ferrari!reader, cock & pussy drunk, degrading language/dirty talk, mean!max, mean!daniel, rough sex, dom/sub, biting/marking, possessive beheaviour, hate fuck, facials & back shots, cum eating

sharing was caring, at least in daniel's eyes. he had shared a lot of things over the course of his friendship with max verstappen. there were normal things like food, plane rides, they spent weekends together even. he could even recall a night austin when they both shared the same girl for an evening.

so it only made sense that daniel ricciardo would share his favourite rival. the cute little thing on the ferrari team. lucky number forty-seven.

max was mad by the end of the dutch grand prix. one clip from you, another from leclerc. he was getting pummelled by the prince and princess of ferrari on his home turf. and that left a bitter taste in his mouth as he hit his helmet against the wall once the race was over.

you dressed in your ferrari red, beaming at charles who came in first. ferrari took first and second while the lion of the netherlands barely clung to fifth. as you and charles sprayed champagne on each other and laughed, max could feel the anger in his veins.

and daniel was like the devil in max's ear, "hey max, seem kind of pissed." he placed his hand on max's shoulder, "you know, i'm seeing her after this... in my hotel room. you're free to join us, maybe get some of that anger out." he patted the other man's shoulder.

max's jaw tensed for a moment as he got a full view of you on the podium, laughing and waving. max couldn't very well put you under his boot, but he could make a mess of your pretty insides.

"we have a guest tonight." daniel chuckled as he served you more wine.

you were in the hotel room robe with very little underneath. you were tired of wearing clothes after being in that stuffy uniform all day. you happily accepted the wine and brought the glass to your lips, "guest? you didn't."

daniel chuckled and put the bottle down back on the coffee table, "word won't get out. he's good at keeping secrets." he patted your thigh.

the wine tasted good, expensive in a way that you weren't accustomed to. you had your fair share of grocery store wine, but the more that daniel lured you in with the finer things in life. it was getting harder to go back to your old ways. money couldn't buy taste, but it could buy flavor.

there was a knock on the door and daniel got up. you took sight of his ass in those the sweatpants he wore. there was no use looking formal, you were both here for the same thing.

daniel didn't say who the guest of the evening was. but you almost spilled red wine all over yourself at the sight of max on the other side of the door.

"daniel." you said, "not max."

daniel looked over his shoulder and smiled, "c'mon, princess. i can assure you that he won't hurt you... too much." that gleaming smile of his always seemed to get you into more trouble.

you put the glass down and kept your focus on the two men as max entered the hotel room.

"she looks good." max said as if you weren't in the room with them. you swallowed when he looked at you, "she looks better without the uniform on."

"max..." you said.

"well you know, mate." daniel smiled "i cum in that every night." your arrangement had been going on for some time. it didn't help that you lived in the same building during the off season and he'd often visit you in your driver's room. often to get a taste of that soaked cunt he adored.

your ears went hot as you replied, "danny, what the fuck."

max took a step forward and got his shoes off. he stood there in a white t-shirt and jeans. his eyes gazed with hunger on you. it made you close your robe a little more.

"princess." daniel said as he went back to the couch and pulled you close to him, "i think you own max an apology. you've been fucking with him, toying with him. i see how you look at him, when i mention his name you get wet." his grip on you grew tighter, "it's only right you make amends for your team."

you were soon seated in the middle of the couch between the two men. usually the routine with daniel was that you two would have some wine, indulge in kinky and he'd often cuddle you until you made a hasty escape back to your hotel room before anyone caught on.

but there was a look in daniel's eye that had you worried. it felt like you were between two lions who wanted nothing more than to sink their claws into you. chew you up and devour you whole.

daniel started to undo the robe you wore, while max held you face in a tight grip. you weren't going anywhere fast. daniel's lips were on the back of your neck, in a sensitive spot and max was kissing you deeply

"are you going to be good for us, princess?" daniel asked before he made you keep eye contact with max by holding onto your hair.

you looked into the other's blue eyes and swallowed, "you two are sick."

max raised an eyebrow at you before his gaze looked to daniel, "seems you haven't trained her." he spoke about you like you were a dog, not the second place of this weekend's race.

daniel got a hand around your throat and held onto it tightly, he tilted your head back to look at him. he said in a soft voice, "you're making my look bad. i promised our good friend max here a good night tonight."

you swallowed, you felt something boil in your stomach. like it was all going to boil over soon. you were sandwiched between two men who honestly hated you after the grand prix.

you looked at daniel for a moment before you said, "sorry, sir."

"and you'll be good for our friend tonight? treat him nicely. no teeth, no attitude?"

you nodded like an eager puppy and daniel kissed you on the lips. you were pushed up further against the australian driver as max pressed further into you. further being squished between the two men.

when you stopped kissing daniel, max captured your lips once more. you held onto the back of the couch with one hand as a means of some sort of support.

you were stripped of your robe before daniel made you get off the couch and onto the bed in the other room. you scampered away on shaky legs, basically exposed to both men. you could feel their gazes on you.

"why not the couch?" max asked, it would've been easy for max to fold you in half or toss you over the couch.

daniel chuckled and slapped his friend on the shoulder, "it'll be more comfortable for us on the bed. she's pretty flexible, can fuck her about anywhere. but i'd love for us to have a little more comfort." then got off the couch to join you with the dutch driver close behind.

you knew that if you wanted to keep your underwear in one piece, you had to get them off before the other men came. your kicked off your panties and your bra was on the floor before you sat on top of the bed, one leg over the other.

this all felt so sick, it was almost degrading. their stares and their words pierced through you and left your brain running on carnal desires.

you watched them come in, and you tried to make yourself appear a tad smaller, but daniel's voice made you sit up straight once more.

"show them off, princess."

daniel was on you first, he clothes went flying as he smothered you against him. he weight on top of you kept you pinned down to the hotel room bed.

he kissed you with a fever, only breaking it to get his t-shirt off over his head. you felt the leg of his jeans grind against your soaked sex which made you whimper.

he looked over his shoulder for a moment to say to max, "come on in, the water's fine." before he went back to kissing you with a heated passion.

max was slower to get his clothes off. everything came off slowly as he felt a throb between his legs. watching his friend make you a debauched mess.

daniel was a good friend, letting max have a taste of you. letting him sink his teeth into you. and you were such a good little girl for letting max enact his revenge for your little stunt on the track. maybe that'll teach you.

you were meant to look pretty for ferrari, their logo plastered across your pretty tits, not to get in the way of men like max and daniel.

daniel got away from you and propped himself on the bed beside you. his expression was wild and his cheeks were hot. "c'mon there, maxie! don't be so shy!"

max was in his briefs and you swallowed at you looked at him. even so physically exposed, his gaze remained stern on you. you knew he could crack jokes and be funny. but your (almost) win left something searing inside of him.

you swallowed and with a bit of confidence you crooked your finger at him, "yeah, mad max."

"wouldn't be so mad if you gave me a reason not to be, princess."

you swallowed and tried to bite back, in a last ditch effort to gain some sort of control between these two men, "maybe you should race better."

the corner of max's mouth twitched before he looked at daniel, "i'm taking her throat." before he got onto the bed and got himself up against the headboard, he gave his thigh a pat.

daniel was in your space once more, hand on your hip as he said, "you heard the man, hands and knees, princess."

you got between max's legs, your front pressed against the bed to give you the best chance to suck his cock. your ass was stuck up to give daniel a good angle as well. you were to be used.

you looked up at max, his cock pressed against your cheek. you let out a shuddered breath.

"not much of a princess." he said as he took your hair in his hand. his grip was tight, not enough to rip any of it out. but firm enough to guide you onto his cock.

daniel slapped your ass before he placed those large hands on your hips. he chuckled in response, "more like a whore. i wonder what ferrari would think of this? sandwiched between two other drivers. shame, shame." he rubbed his tip up against your wet slit as you started to suck max off.

max held onto your hair as you got your lips around his cock. he took back anything he said about you not being trained. you sucked cock like an obedient dog.

daniel noticed max's expression and chuckled, "i told you she would be good for you." their gaze's met and he added, "took her about eight months to lose that gag reflex. now she's the cock sucking champ of formula one."

max felt something unfamiliar curl in his stomach, "do you share her often?"

daniel shook his head, "no way. she's isn't some whore i give out at parties. we're friends, max. and she needs to learn a lesson."

max looked down at you and pinched your cheek, "if charles fucks with me again, i'm finishing inside of you." a threat about your teammate. that you were responsible for the entire team. to not upset the likes of max verstappen.

daniel was lapping this up. he knew that sometimes you could be a bit mouthy in the bedroom, so it was nice to have someone fill that gap. keep you nice and quiet.

you whimpered when daniel stuffed his cock inside of you suddenly and your back arched more which allowed the man to push further into you. you were drooling around max's cock, having it almost choke you.

"always wondered how she got in." max said idly as he ran his fingers through your hair. he kept an eye on how well you choked down his cock, "i know her daddy didn't buy her way in. she wasn't the best in any race she was in." he spoke like you weren't in the room. he pushed his cock deeper, your nose in his trimmed pubic hair, "did you give mister vasseur head, princess?"

you met his gaze like you were going to respond but the driver's cock in your mouth left you unable to form much of a sentence. max liked when you looked at him, below him. less than.

"danny won't pass you around, but i bet every head principal got a taste of you." max said, "i be you started with the best and worked your way down." he gripped onto your hair tighter, "whored yourself out for a good contract."

you whimpered, his demeaning words made you cunt tighten around daniel's cock. you were a good driver! you knew that! you came in second and these two were acting like you has the worst record in modern f1!

daniel smirked as he groped your ass cheek, threatening to bruise the skin with his grasp, "while i would agree with you." he licked his lips, "she had actually never had sex before we started to mess around. it only started because she just got so fuckin' turned on after races. taught her everything i could."

max's expression looked surprise, "oh.." he looked down at you once more, "seems you've been a good girl for daniel. i'm surprised, given that mouth of yours. but i guess you just need something to occupy it."

you whined as you felt daniel's cock deep in you. you were being fucked both ways. the princess of ferrari made a mess of. you held onto max's bare thighs and let out a small whimper as they continued their motions against you.

daniel seduced you early on with that laid back attitude, but the more he unwrapped about you. the more he knew that you were just a little slut waiting to happen. you had been a good girl your entire life and now handed a lot of freedom and piles of cash, you needed someone to reign you in.

thankfully daniel liked to keep his favourite rival on a short leash.

"i think after tonight, she'll be a little more gentle on the track." daniel pushed you further into the bed, which made max's cock hit past where your gag reflex used to be.

you felt raw all over, there were a few stray tears in your eyes. but yet it all excited you. letting these two enact their wrath over your second placement.

"she better be." max replied.

the two of them continued to fuck you and you were subject for wave after wave of pleasure. you felt sore all over. daniel's cock rearranging your guts while max's cock was cutting off proper air circulation.

depraved nonsense.

"prettier when she's quiet." daniel mentioned.

max chuckled in response, his cheeks stained pink, "of course she's greedy enough for two cocks."

daniel was the first to finished, he quickly pulled out and jerked off on your back before he finished all over your skin. covering your lower back in pearly white cum. you groaned at the feeling of it across your back, the mess that was made.

"don't cum until our guest finishes. it's called being polite, princess" he said, his voice hot in your lust ridden head.

you mouth on max was sloppy, the driver made sure that you were taking it all the way to the base. and when he was close to finishing, he pulled out of your mouth and stroked his cock until he made a total mess. letting cum land across your cheeks and up into your hair.

max rested against the headboard and looked at the mess he made. if only he had his phone.

"she's something else. if only she brought that energy to every race." daniel chuckled.

you whimpered and tried not to get cum all over the hotel sheets. the embarrassment of house keeping finding it made you want to die. but you weren't covered in cum for long. soon you were fed the cum all over your face and back by the men who put it all over you.

their fingers shoved in your mouth as you whined. their digits dragged across your teeth and the inside of your cheek. they made sure to get the seed all over your tongue so you'd taste them for the next few hours.

number forty-seven for ferrari was a good driver, but an even better cum slut.

-

you woke up in the morning rested against daniel's chest. while that felt familiar and all. there was no way both of his arms were wrapped around your waist like that.

you lifted your head and saw max holding you from behind. the previous night came back to you and you tried to move. but max's arms tightened around you.

"where are you going, princess? we're not done." max's sleepy voice could be heard.

daniel's eyes slightly opened before he pressed your head back to his chest. he held you there for a moment and added, "you're not getting away that easily."

your eyes went wide for a moment. the princess of ferrari had fallen into the jaws of the f1's most ferocious predators. you laid there for a moment, your hand across daniel's chest. you swallowed, there was no where you could hide that daniel and max wouldn't find you.

daniel gripped the back of your head for a moment. he believed in sharing with his good friend max verstappen. didn't matter if it was a slice of pizza, an extra euro for a vending machine, or the princess he had meticulously trained. <3

[togenabi]

things I won't tell you

vinsmoke sanji (opla) x princess!reader

♡—the new royal chef doesn't seem to recognize you without your crown. who's going to tell him? . . . certainly not you.

word count♡— 7.3k (cries)

genre♡— fluff, royal chef x princess au

content notes♡— opla sanji, afab!reader is a princess, reader wears dresses, reader has siblings (oc's), sanji made me google fancy food, mentions of zeff, sanji gets jealous if you squint, no use of y/n, proofread (but only a little)

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— this is detached from any canon, its basically just a big chunk of sanji fluff. please enjoy!

You've never really dreamed for yourself. You had always just let life fall into place around you.

The kingdom is prospering, entering a new age of commerce. Artists, craftsmen, and inventors sail seas just to be part of it.

Your sister Chrysanth is a wise queen, as you always knew she would be. She’s fair and just, always knowing what’s best for her people.

On the other hand, your brother August is Captain of the Royal Guard. He’s an excellent swordsman, who has yet to be beaten ever since he took command.

As for you, the youngest of the three, you have no idea what you’re doing.

The most likely outcome would be for you to be married off to settle some political arrangement. Unpleasant as it sounds, you would have agreed to it for the sake of the kingdom.

But the moment you said so, Chrysanth gave you a look unbecoming of a queen and immediately shut it down.

“Look,” She gestured to the view outside. “Does that seem like a kingdom who needs help to you? I work my butt off precisely so that we won’t have to depend on anyone else.”

“Besides,” She adds, “if anyone wants your hand, they should fight to the death for it.”

And so, for now, you work for your sister. Helping manage general affairs and the kingdom’s business agreements—even though she could easily hire someone else.

“I love that you insist on working,” Your brother told you once. “You could have been a socialite, but you’re here with us, serving the people.”

Of course you are. Because even though you didn’t necessarily plan it, you are proud and committed to your work. You’re happy with your own, mundane accomplishments.

Or at least that’s what you try to remember when you glance at the tall pile of documents on your desk. You’ll relish the satisfaction that will come when it’s gone.

The candle beside you burns low, flame becoming dimmer and dimmer as the hour grows late. You should probably replace that. Pulling open your drawer, your eyes scan its contents for a candle.

You’re fresh out of the tall ones that fit in the candleholder, but you have one sculpted like a cinnamon bun—a gift from August a few birthdays ago. It’s not exactly the best for illuminating your work, but something makes you strike a match and light it still.

It smells like freshly baked cinnamon rolls, you can’t help but inhale the decadent scent deeply.

The aroma triggers an embarrassing grumble from your stomach. You feel your ears burn despite the fact that no one else is around to have heard it. Perhaps a midnight snack is in order.

Unexpectedly, light seeps through the gap beneath the large wooden double doors to the kitchen. In all your years, you’ve never encountered anyone in the kitchen at two in the morning.

Normally, you wouldn’t want to disturb them. Knowing the chefs, they would likely fuss over you and put whatever they were doing on hold.

But you fear that your stomach will disagree with that, so you decide to knock and enter the kitchen anyway.

There’s only one chef inside—a tall, blond man with his back to you. You don’t think you recognize him. He must be one of the new hires.

When he hears your footsteps on the stone tiles, he turns around.

His expression, at first, is curious. But after a beat, his mouth curves into a charming grin that catches you completely off guard.

“Hello there, miss.” He nods in greeting, eyes alight with a look that no one usually dares when it comes to you.

“I’d be happy to fix up something for you if there’s anything you’re… craving.”

When you expected the chef to fuss over you, this isn’t what you meant.

Your first instinct is to look at his surroundings for alcohol. Perhaps he’s intoxicated and not in his right mind?

But the (sober) chef seems to have mistaken your silence for bashfulness, because he presses you further, “Trust me. I may be new around here, but I know my stuff.”

Unsure how to respond to his blatant (or insolent, your sister would say) behavior, you try to gently decline his offer.

“It’s alright,” You say, still uncertain about him. “I was only going to make a sandwich and be on my way.”

“Nonsense!” He insists. “If you’re hungry at this hour, it means you’ve been busy working too hard.”

He approaches the pantry, retrieving one too many things for a mere sandwich. Your concern grows when he grabs garlic, several leafy vegetables, and a lemon.

“You, my dear,” He points at you with, is that a cucumber? “—deserve a proper treat.”

You sigh, it looks like he doesn’t intend to back down. Maybe you should just let him do what he wants and see if he can back up all the talk. Pulling one of the chairs from beneath the kitchen island, you take a seat as you observe the flirtatious chef.

At least he seems to be enjoying himself. His hands work with the kind of precision that only comes from years of experience; and he smiles proudly when he sees you watching.

“I meant what I said, I’m a damn good cook.” He’s begun chopping the vegetables. “My name’s Sanji, by the way.”

The question now is whether or not you properly introduce yourself. It's difficult to deny that you enjoy his attention. The casual and relaxed manner he addresses you with is… a nice kind of different. When else are you going to experience that if you let this go?

Alright. For tonight, you're not a princess. You're someone who stumbled upon a chef—a handsome one, it dawns on you. This is a chance encounter in the palace kitchens. And, you glance over at the dressing and ingredients he prepared, why should you turn down good food?

You decide to only give him your name. It feels strange introducing yourself without your title, but you don't tell him that.

“It makes sense that your name is as captivating as you are.” Sanji's voice is smooth, easygoing as he moves around the kitchen.

Nothing about his demeanor changes. Either he really doesn't know anything about this country's royalty, or he's skillfully controlled his reaction and is hiding that he knows.

There's also a third possibility: that you look so haggard and tired that you simply do not appear royal anymore.

Subconsciously, you look at your typical office clothes… Maybe you should go on that fitting the royal stylist has been pestering you about.

On the topic of style, however, your companion has unusual attire for a chef. He’s wearing a buttoned shirt with a necktie. His black slacks match the suit jacket draped over one of the chairs.

Your attention is diverted when Sanji begins rolling up his sleeves. He juices the lemon he had sliced in half, arms flexing as he twists the fruit.

Clearing your throat, you ask him a question to distract yourself. “What are you making?”

He smiles as if he’s glad you asked. “A dish that suits a beauty like you, of course.”

Several minutes later, he presents you with a sandwich. The slices of bread are whole wheat; the layers of ingredients between them are all in varying shades of green.

“A green goddess sandwich, made with care for the goddess in front of me.” Sanji pushes the plate towards you. 

It's easy to stay composed despite the flattery because your hunger makes you focus on the food. “It really does look excellent.” You compliment earnestly.

He gestures to the plate before placing his hands in his pockets. “Tastes excellent too, try it.” Shaking your head at how confident he’s being, you pick up the sandwich.

It might just be the best sandwich you’ve ever had in your life. The flavors are fresh, and you catch the hints of lemon blending with the dressing. The bread is soft, contrasting with the crunch of the cucumbers and sprouts.

You're completely surprised, and it must be obvious based on how Sanji reacts. He lets out an adorable, pleased laugh that makes you want to hear it again.

“I knew you’d like it, ma chèrie.” Sanji reaches a hand towards your face. Your heart just about stops when he brushes his thumb to wipe at the corner of your mouth. His eyes look so intense, like you'll drown in them if you stare too much. 

It feels as if your face could burst into flames at any second, so you turn away to hide your flush.

As Sanji grabs you a glass of water, you ask him if he’s eaten. “I did, but it’s nice that you’re worried about me.” He answers. You almost choke on your drink.

Once you've finished your meal, you stand then grab your empty plate and glass. But Sanji mirrors you, blocking the way to the sink. Why must a chef have such broad shoulders?

He shakes his head, trying to get the dishes from you. “Can’t let you do that, love.”

“Why not?” You frown, pulling your arms back so he doesn’t reach them.

“It’s late. You shouldn’t be working any more—”

“But you’re allowed to?” You look up at him defiantly.

Sanji stares at you. You stare back. There's a few seconds of silence before you sprint the other way, running around the kitchen island to get to a different sink.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Sanji yells after you.

You’re almost there, but Sanji catches up to you easily. Before you know it, he’s blocking the way again and you curse, remembering his long legs.

“Sanji, let me do the dishes.” You plead, but he’s as stubborn as it gets.

“The knives I used need to be washed anyway, and I’m not about to let your pretty hands do that.” Sanji winks, and you give up. He pries the dishes from your hands.

Seeing your shoulders slump disappointedly, he offers you a compromise. “If you really want, you could throw the rubbish in the bin and wipe down the counters.” Okay, you can do that.

“Are you sure this is the only way I can repay you?” You ask, grabbing a washcloth to begin cleaning up.

“That’s plenty of help, my dear.” Sanji answers.

But after a moment, he seems to have gotten an idea. Your brows raise in curiosity as you question him, “What?”

“...I was just wondering,” He begins, looking at you with that flirtatious glint in his eye. “Since we had such a wonderful time tonight, would you be willing to join me again?”

“That depends,” You press your lips together to suppress the smile blooming on your lips. “Will you cook for me again?”

Sanji laughs, throwing his head back. “Darling, that’s a given.”

He gazes at you while he dries his hands. There’s a grin on his face as he asks, like he already knows your answer. He probably does. He’s probably right.

“Same time tomorrow?”

Even though you got back to your chambers at an ungodly hour in the morning, you woke up feeling the most refreshed you’ve ever been. There’s a spring in your step as you get ready for the day, and you pick clothes that are slightly more dressy than your usual attire. Sanji shouldn’t be able to notice that you dressed up for him, right?

But your sister does. 

Seated at the head of the table, Chrysanth stops eating to analyze your clothes the instant you show up to the dining hall for breakfast.

You could practically hear the gears in her head turning. Avoiding her gaze, you bow to greet her before taking your seat, “Good morning.”

The queen only smiles at you knowingly, eyes still flickering over you with enraptured excitement. Very much unlike a queen, however, she kicks your shin underneath the table.

“Ow!” You yelp.

“So…” She lets the syllable drag on. “Who’s the guy?”

You focus on piling food onto your plate, choosing to ignore her. “What guy?”

“Your guy.” She says, giddy. “Is he your guy yet?”

“Hm?” Is your only response. Breakfast looks lovely. Should you ask for coffee or tea today?

Chrysanth kicks you again.

“Hey!” You rub the skin to dull the pain. “Stop that!”

“Stop avoiding the question!” She persists, waving a hand to gesture at your clothes. “You only wear that skirt when you want to impress someone.”

Mentally cursing her for knowing you too well, you continue to act nonchalant.

“Really, it’s nothing.” You try to clarify. “I just thought that it would be a nice change.”

She doesn't believe it. Not one bit of it. Thankfully though, she drops the topic. Your shoulders relax as the discussion switches to work-related ones. She’s telling you about her plans to approve a restaurant in the museum when your brother joins you for breakfast.

Once he’s seated, August takes one look at you before tilting his head. “Who’s the guy?”

Chrysanth looks far too smug and triumphant than you’d like. You bury your face in your hands. Would Sanji also tease you if he knew?

The rest of the day is uneventful, the only change to your typical work day being that you avoid your siblings like the plague. You have lunch brought to your office and skip on dinner.

Sanji had already started cooking by the time you got to the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind,” He says. Of course you don’t, whatever it is smells amazing. “I thought I’d start early so you wouldn’t have to wait too long.”

“Thank you for going through the trouble.” You say, glancing at the ingredients he had laid out: there are crushed tomatoes on the counter. Pasta simmers in a pot on the stove. You recognize the tubed shapes with ridges surrounding them.

“Rigatoni?” You ask, turning to the chef.

Sanji nods, “With a simple, creamy tomato sauce. Nothing too extravagant, but still specially made for you.” 

He puts the pasta into two bowls, grating parmesan cheese on top. Your mouth waters.

“Here you are, darling.” It pleases you more than you thought it would when Sanji sits across from you to eat as well.

There’s something homey and yet luscious about the taste. He really outdid himself. “It’s delicious, Sanji.”

“I live to please.” Sanji says before standing to retrieve two wine glasses and a bottle of red. “Zweigelt.” He says as he pours for you both. “Juicy and fresh, with just the right amount of acidity.”

You almost swoon at the rasp in his voice. You never realized someone could be so attractive when talking about wine.

As he clinks his glass with yours, you think to yourself that this might be your favorite dish from him. However, true to his word, he surpasses your expectations every time.

After a few weeks, on your sixth (or is it seventh?) time meeting Sanji past midnight, you've reached the point where you're able to open up to each other beyond the pleasantries that come with the food.

He tells you about his dream of traveling the seas in search for the best ingredients the world has to offer. You admit how you sometimes feel like life is just taking you along with the current—that you’ve never had a burning, passionate dream to aspire to.

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” Sanji hums contemplatively. “There aren’t any deadlines when it comes to finding dreams.”

“I do worry that you’re working yourself to the bone, though.” He adds, and for once, his smile looks different somehow. It’s a fond, gentle smile that’s sweeter than the macarons he made for you.

“What do you mean?” You take a sip of water.

“While I'm flattered you enjoy my food so well, do you eat properly? Shouldn't the palace be treating you better?” This time, you actually choke on your drink.

Could it get more embarrassing than this? Your ears burn as you cough, trying to clear your throat and settle your heart.

“Breathe, love." Sanji, ever the gentleman, is next to you in a flash of a second. He pats your back gently and supportively. “I'm sorry if I startled you.”

“It's alright—and, I do eat,” Your voice comes out raspy. “It's just that I don't usually have an appetite for dinner.”

“But that leaves you hungry for a midnight snack?” Sanji asks, a knowing expression on his face as he refills your glass.

“Exactly.” You smile. Thankfully, your throat has calmed down. Picking up a vanilla-flavored macaron, you savor the taste that melts sweetly on your tongue. Returning to his chair across from you, Sanji watches you eat happily. 

“I take pride in my desserts, but that chocolatier in Belltower street… The sweets are just—out of this world, I tell you.” He looks so excited as he talks, eyes aglow and gestures animated. “The chocolates are handmade and everything. I'm sure you've heard of it?”

“Um…” Hesitating, you certainly remember issuing a business permit for a chocolatier; but you can’t say you’ve gone there yourself.

Sanji’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Surely you’re pulling my leg. You haven’t been?”

“...”

He observes you quietly, like he's considering what to do next. There have been instances when Sanji stays quiet, doesn't eat, and only watches you chew. The times where he insists that he's content with seeing you eating well. Those were awkward at first, but you learned that was just part of spending time with him. Your reaction was a reward on its own.

But this isn't like that. Something feels oddly different in the way he seems to be gathering his composure. The silence almost worries you, but thankfully he breaks it first.

“You’ve saved me the trouble of thinking of a place to take you to.” Laughing, Sanji practically glows in elation. “You’ll love it, I promise.”

You had a peculiar sense that you would’ve loved going anywhere, as long as you were with him. 

Feeling bold, you suggest, “I’m free this Saturday if that’s good for you?”

He gives you that soft, enamoured look again. Something makes you hold your breath, your fingers tingle and the entire rest of the world slows down. You’re almost certain you’re giving him the same look.

“Even if I wasn’t, love, I would have gone to you anyway.”

The next day, a Thursday, your brother unexpectedly knocks on your office door.

“Hey,” You smile. “Is something wrong?” 

It’s rare for August to look for you in the middle of the day. If either of you need to speak, it’s usually you who heads into the training grounds to talk to him. The other way around occurring is curious.

“I wanted to invite you to watch the knights train this Saturday.” He says coolly. “It would boost their morale if you spoke a few words.”

The commander goes on to speak, not catching that you’ve short circuited somewhat, trying to rack your brain for a valid excuse to decline him.

“And maybe, you could pick out a personal knight like I’ve been telling you.” August prompts. “You really should—”

When he pauses, squinting his eyes at you suspiciously, you suddenly recall why you stopped trying to hide anything from him. 

“You already have plans.” He says, face carefully blank.

“Yes.” Thank goodness he understood. But wait, his eyes are widening. Why is he making that face? Why is he looking at you like he just figured out—

“You have a date.” Darn it all.

August is bewildered, not knowing what to do with the information he put together. He awkwardly brushes his fingers through his hair.

“...Is he a good guy, at least?” He settles with, asking carefully in that concerned way he does when he looks out for you.

Biting your lip, you nod. “He seems to be, so far.”

“Okay.” August responds. “Does Chrysanth know?”

“It’s nothing serious.” Yet. Yet? Do you want it to be? “You’re the first I’ve told.”

A worrying thought suddenly pops in your mind. Your turn to him, distressed. “Please don’t tell her yet, August.”

“Why?” His frown deepens, like he’s about to ask more questions. Unfortunately for him, you decide you’ve had enough talking about Sanji to your brother for today.

“Aren’t you busy?” You grab his arm, guiding him out of your office. “Don’t you have training to get to?”

“I do, but—why can't Chrysanth know?” You open the door for him and try to push him out, but August plants his feet; still trying to figure you out. He doesn’t budge an inch.

But then he makes that face again. That annoying ‘aha!’ face.

“You really need to go, good luck with training! Tell the knights I said hi—” You manage to shove him out with all your strength, but at the last second before you close the door, August turns around again.

“He’s a commoner, isn’t he?” You slam the door at his face. 

It doesn't matter. Sanji's status will never matter to you. Not when he's holding your hand so sweetly while he guides you through the winding streets of the city. You recognize some shops by name, knowing who owns what and when they established their business. But Sanji knows these streets, and he's more than happy to show you.

“Ah, one moment, my dear.” Sanji pulls you towards a quaint little cart overflowing with flowers. He flicks a coin to the vendor, eyes scanning all the vibrant colors and bursting petals. 

Somehow, without you needing to tell him, he picks one in your favorite color. You're starting to feel like that's just part of being with Sanji—that he knows what you want, and knows what you need before you do.

The flower is soon tucked into your hair, behind your ear. His fingers linger on the side of your face—and normally, you'd break eye contact and shy away. Maybe let out a halfhearted excuse that you should continue on your way. But you don't.

You smile back at him, not bothering to hide the genuine happiness you feel. And when Sanji pulls back, you're already holding out your hand before he reaches for it. There’s something in his eyes. Something that makes you feel like you're walking on air when he tugs you along again.

As planned, Sanji takes you to the chocolatier he told you about. The building is small, tucked between larger shops in the middle of a busy street, but there’s no doubting the quality of their confections.

The elderly chef behind the counter greets Sanji like a grandson she hasn’t seen in forever. She ushers him in, enthusiastically pointing to this and that, saying she moved some furniture around as he suggested.

“It looks perfect, grand-mère.” Sanji smiles, taking in the beautiful glass display. Chocolates of every flavor cover the shelves from end to end.

Grand-mère’s eyes light up when she sees you. She casts an approving look at Sanji, “I like this one. She might even be too good for you.”

“That’s because she is.” Sanji laughs, and you pretend to browse the menu while they talk.

“No need for that, ma chèrie.” The menu is plucked from your hands. Sanji sets it aside, pointing instead to where grand-mère is behind the counter. She's wrapping up a box of chocolates that she hands to you.

“No need to pay, dear.” She smiles, patting your hand. “If he ever gives you trouble, let me know.”

Sanji whisks you away through the streets again. You've never been this far into the city before. Looking back at the path you've taken and not recognizing any of it, you know you’d be absolutely lost without Sanji by your side.

“Almost there.” He tells you, pointing to a cobbled path that inclines upwards. 

What meets you at the top of the path is a small clearing. A stunning tree with blossoms on its branches stands at the center. Flowers and petals flutter away and fall onto the iron bench beneath it.

“Sanji, this is lovely...” You trail off, letting go of his hand to catch a flower into your palms. The flower twirls delicately between your fingers before you turn back to Sanji, tucking the blossom into the pocket of his suit.

Sanji takes your hand before you can pull away, bending down to press a kiss to your knuckles. 

“Not nearly as lovely as you.”

The two of you spent hours under that tree, sharing chocolates and stories—feeling like this is how things are supposed to be. Not necessarily the flowers, or the chocolates, or even the sun setting beautifully in so many warm colors.

Just Sanji. With you, next to you. 

All at once, it sinks in that he could be the dream you've been waiting for. But you don't tell him that.

Being enlightened on your feelings for Sanji becomes a second thought, however, when you’re swamped with work the following week.

“Don’t these people ever get tired?” Chrysanth groans, leaning back on her chair. “Why is planning a festival so hard?”

You approach her desk and place another stack of documents onto it. The numerous piles are getting concerning.

She scowls at the papers, then scowls at you. “Don’t you ever get tired?”

“Of course I do.” You tap a stack of documents to her left. “The guest list for the ball needs to be approved by tonight so we can send invitations out.” She groans again, but picks up the list anyway.

You’re unable to see Sanji as often as you’d like, but you both promised to meet once a week. Even if it’s only for a few short heartbeats together.

You dearly miss him. You think about him as you hand Chrysanth menu plans for the ball. If he saw it, he’d say that he could come up with something better.

She glances at the menu, studying it. Or at least, that’s what you thought she was doing—until her next words proved you wrong.

“So, how are you and that chef doing?”

Your heart isn’t in your chest anymore. It sank down, deep into the depths of the earth. It also must have taken all the air in the room along with it. How did she—

“August?” You blurt out.

Chrysanth shakes her head, “Zeff.” Oh no. Sanji’s boss knows? Does Sanji know that you’re—

“According to Zeff,” She proceeds, cutting off your thoughts. “One of his subordinates has been cooking a lot of personal meals over the last few weeks.”

“I can explain—” But your sister holds up a hand. Your mouth snaps shut.

She calls your name, and then you realize how serious her tone is. “Are you familiar with the kitchen’s rules when it comes to using ingredients and supplies for personal use?”

“...I’m afraid I'm not.” You didn’t know the kitchen had any such rules… but surely Sanji does. Your voice stutters, “I, did—is he in trouble?”

“He isn’t.” She answers, though her expression is still grave. “But I think that you should be aware of how much he’s doing for you.”

Chrysanth opens a drawer to retrieve a list of kitchen rules. Reading it over, everything is standard and straight to the point. You find the answer to your confusion towards the end, a small, nondescript bullet that reads:

All staff must reimburse the cost of all ingredients used for any reason outside of official duties.

“He must know who I am, then.” You say, feeling relieved that he didn’t break some sort of impossible rule. “He wouldn’t have done so much for me if he didn’t.”

Your sister purses her lips, letting the silence linger for a second before responding, “He doesn’t know, love.” She hands you another document. “He’s been paying back every cent out of pocket.”

Tracing over the timestamps and the different ingredients listed, you stare at an outline of your time with Sanji. It’s nice to reminisce, but you can’t help but wince whenever you spot something particularly pricey. What on earth are you to do with this man?

“Zeff recognized your name when he asked Sanji who he was cooking for.” Chrysanth explains. “He didn’t tell him, but he came to me and requested for Sanji to be repaid.”

“Since anything served to me counts as official duties of a royal chef.” You piece together. 

“Exactly.” Chrysanth nods. “However, doing that would expose your title to him. Which is why I wanted to speak to you about this first… You should tell him.”

“I know.” Letting out a deep sigh, you agree. Sanji deserves to know more than anything. Nevertheless, the thought of him changing how he treats you—or worse, leaving—because of your status, frightens you to your core. 

“I’ll talk to him tonight.” You say, but your sister’s expression slowly changes. What did she plan this time?

“Or maybe, you could put the kitchen dates on pause and tell him in a few weeks.” Surprisingly, she hands you an invitation to the ball.

“I can’t bring Sanji as my date.” No matter how much you wish you could.

“Are you sure about that?” Chrysanth is unable to contain her grin. “Open it!”

‘…you are cordially invited to the spring masquerade ball.’

You gasp, “You turned it into a masquerade?”

“Yes, I did. You won’t believe how much convincing it took for the ministers to agree.” She rolls her eyes, but then her smile returns. “Don’t waste my hard work and have fun with your man, littlest sister.”

You laugh, not expecting this outcome after all that. “I love you, even if you made me go through so much emotional turmoil for fun.” She cackles.

“Of course I had to make you sweat after what you put me through.” Chrysanth scoffs, “I can’t believe I had to hear about your love life from Zeff, of all people.”

“Ah,” She says, remembering something. “Speaking of, why’d you guess August first earlier?”

“...”

“...Did you tell him before me?” She gasps. “How could you! Give that invite back!”

“I didn’t think you’d approve.” You admit shyly. “He’s a commoner.”

“If he treats you well—which, he obviously does—I could care less about all that.” Chrysanth reaches for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Only those stuck up ministers will react negatively, I’m sure. We can deal with them easily enough.”

When she lets you go, she abruptly adds, “He better be cute though.”

That sends you laughing again. “Oh, Chrysanth, he’s the cutest!”

He certainly is. Especially when he sees you and grins, opening his arms wide in expectation. You fall into his embrace when you’re near enough.

Sanji takes your hand and places it on his arm, leading you away from the kitchens.

“Some of the others are still in there planning for the ball.” He explains. “It seems preparations are keeping us both busy.”

Sanji takes you to the greenhouse, which you’ve never seen at night before. Various patches of vegetables and shrubs line the space. There are trees and flowers towards the back too. It feels like a secret hideout, being here with Sanji. 

“I miss spending more time with you, love.” He whispers.

“Me too.” Your heart melts thinking about how much he gave for you. You wish you had the courage to tell him the truth now, while he’s looking at you like you put up the stars in the sky, but you can’t. You’re not ready yet.

Reaching your hands up, you caress his face gently, brushing your thumb across his cheek. He places his hands over yours, keeping them there. 

Sanji closes his eyes to savor the moment, and you let him. You two stay like that, your hands becoming enveloped in so much of Sanji you feel like you could recognize him with your eyes closed, with a single touch.

There’s a certain familiarity to him at this point. You would probably have some difficulty adjusting back to life without him in it. He’s so familiar that you could probably draw him. He makes you want to try.

“...I was just wondering,” You say with a knowing glint in your eye. Does he remember those words when he said them to you that first night? “We’ve been working hard for this ball, wouldn’t it be a shame not to enjoy it together?”

You give him the invitation, and he throws his head back laughing. You send him a confused look, but it all becomes clear when he pulls out an identical invitation from his jacket.

“Ah, how brilliant you are, mamour.” Sanji embraces you again, and you bask in how perfect it feels to tuck your head into the curve of his neck.

“It will be easy to find you even with a mask.” You murmur into his skin. He shivers. “You’re so goddamn tall it’s not fair.”

“I’m not too worried about you finding you, either.” Sanji begins to sway slowly with you still in his arms. It makes your heart skip a beat. You can’t wait to dance with him.

“Are you confident you’ll find me first, then?” You ask, adjusting your hold around his middle to snuggle in better.

“I’m not sure about being first,” He ponders. “But I’ll be sure it’s you when I find you.”

The greenhouse became your new meeting place while the palace was buzzing to prepare for the ball. You could only meet for a few minutes, but you treasured the time you shared just the same. 

Once, Sanji tried to feed you one of the expensive fruits growing there, but you declined, making up an excuse that you were allergic. He had looked at you strangely, but didn’t press you further.

You couldn’t find the time to see Sanji the week of the ball at all. Your time was spent welcoming foreign dignitaries, discussing business and trade. You and your sister had a marvelous time shutting down a marriage proposal from some duke from the north.

It amazes you how much you’ve changed since meeting Sanji. Had the duke asked before you met him, you probably would have considered it seriously. Whereas now, your standard is far too high. The man you choose must be able to get to your heart by cooking you the best food in the kingdom and all the seas. 

You’re glowing by the time you finish getting ready for the masquerade. The dress you chose is in your favorite color, with the skirt twirling dreamily when you turn. 

Chrysanth permitted you to enter the ballroom a few minutes late to avoid a royal entrance. You use the time to compose what you want to say to Sanji when you tell him the truth.

‘I’m a princess, and I think I might love you’, is that a lot to say? You sigh, smoothing your hands over your dress.

The clock on the wall chimes. It’s been fifteen minutes since the ball officially started. You put on your mask, tying the ribbon behind your head to secure it.

After one last glance at yourself in the mirror, you head to the ballroom—looking much more collected than you actually feel.

Maybe you shouldn’t have bragged to Sanji that you would find him easily, because you don’t.

You were mistaken when you thought all you’d had to do was look for a tall, blond man with a blue mask. (Sanji’s mask is surely going to be blue. He wouldn’t consider any other color. You bet your foot on it.) It’s unnerving how many people fit that description tonight.

You even find your brother before you find Sanji. August is dressed in surprisingly simple, all black attire. He looks more like a gentleman than a commander, lacking all those sparkly medals he’s usually required to wear at events.

“Where’s your date?” August asks, ducking his head slightly so that you can hear him over the crowd. “Chrysanth bragged about setting you two up.”

“I haven’t found him yet.” You answer dispiritedly. “I thought it would be easy.” 

August looks around, and you know that if he knew what Sanji looked like, he would be able to track him down in a flash. You’re about to ask what you should do when August suddenly bows, extending a hand to you.

“May I have this dance, fair lady?” He asks in a fake pretentious accent that instantly makes you laugh.

It would be nice to say yes, but you desperately want Sanji to be your first dance. August would understand. 

But you aren’t able to decline, someone else beats you to it.

“I’m afraid her first dance is spoken for.” Sanji’s voice reaches your ears and suddenly the room is brighter than it was.

You almost gasp, elated that he found you. Were it not for that frown on his face, you would have voiced out your joy.

August and Sanji stare each other down. Neither of them say anything, but it’s clear that their first impressions of each other aren’t the most pleasant. Not liking the hostility you’re sensing is building, you tug at Sanji’s hand. 

Your brother’s eyes soften at that, and he bows again, this time to say goodbye. “I’ll see you later then.”

You watch August go, and Sanji grumbles something you don’t catch under his breath. You'll have to properly introduce them at some point, but worrying about their relationship can wait. You really must cheer up this grump who thought he was going to miss your first dance.

“Dance with me, stranger?” Intertwining your fingers together, you smile and take in how handsome he looks. His suit is still black, but there are several accents in dark blue—the same color as his mask.

The deep navy color makes his eyes look almost crystalline, and you recognize why you love him so immensely when he smiles.

“I would be honored.”

Sanji is more graceful than you expected. His movements are controlled and precise, never moving too fast and always making sure you’re falling into step beside him.

He’s proven, once again, that he can surpass your every expectation. Sanji spins you around, catching you by your waist and grinning before sweeping you off your feet again.

By the end of it, you’re left breathless due to far too many reasons, and they all involve him.

You had tried bringing Sanji to a romantic spot; maybe a balcony, or somewhere by a fountain in the gardens—but it seems that a lot of other people had the same idea.

Everywhere was crowded, but you suppose where you ended up is romantic in its own way. With the sky being cloudless tonight, you could see every star twinkling away through the greenhouse’s glass roof. 

Let the stars bear witness to you pouring out your heart to this man.

“Sanji…” You start, mentally preparing yourself.

“Yes, ma chèrie?” Sanji tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, you have his complete attention.

“There are things I must tell you.” You swallow the lump in your throat, not brave enough to look him in the eye yet; though you grip his hands tightly in yours.

Sanji waits. He doesn’t complain that you might be holding onto him too tightly, or nag at you for taking too long to put your words together.

When you finally look up to meet his eyes, you find the strength to breathe it out, “...I’m a princess.”

There’s this moment again, when you hold your breath and wait for his reaction; like when you first told him your name. Suddenly, it feels like you’re in the kitchen eating sandwiches with him again.

And, just as it did back then, his reaction surprises you.

His expression barely changes, the only difference being the barely-there furrow of his brows in concern. 

“I know, love.” He says.

“What?!” You drop his hands in shock. “Since when?”

Sanji blinks. “Since the moment we met.”

“But, I—why did you pay everything back? Why didn’t you ever mention it?”

His eyes widen, “Ah, is that why you wouldn’t eat anything from me these past few weeks? I knew you couldn’t be allergic to pineberries.” 

“Sanji, answer the question.” You pout, and he rubs your arms in an attempt to soothe you.

It’s Sanji’s turn to compose himself, you notice. He looks like he wants for your time together to stay lighthearted, when the thoughts in his mind are far from it.

“You didn’t want to talk about your duties, so I never asked.” Sanji shrugs, but you can see him getting nervous. 

“As for reimbursing the ingredients, I suppose I was worried that… you wouldn’t think of our time together dearly if I was just another chef on your staff.” 

Your heart shudders when he lets out a shaky breath. Oh Sanji.

“But that’s the truth isn’t it? I am, and yet I—” He pauses, eyes searching yours desperately. “If I didn’t pay for it, I would be admitting that a chef was all I’d ever be to you.”

You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off. “I don’t regret it. I would make the same choice if I had to.” Through the mask, you can see his resolve, but his hands shake as he holds you.

“I didn’t expect to feel this strongly about you.” Sanji continues, “You’re just so lovely, making me feel like I could take on the world for you.”

With your hands quivering the slightest bit, you pull at the ribbon behind your head. Your mask clatters to the floor. Raising your hands towards him, you push his mask up until it’s off, revealing the face of the man who has completely enamoured you; body and soul and all.

You think back to how the colors lit him up beautifully, that one sunset you shared under that blossoming tree. And now, he’s still just as beautiful, in this greenhouse under the moon and the stars. 

You love him all the same as you did then and every moment before. With the weight from keeping secrets gone from your chest, you finally let yourself admit it out loud.

“I love you, Sanji.” You confess. “I’ll go with you, if you’ll take on the world.” You try to say it calmly, but tears build up in your eyes. “You mean so much to me. You’re my dream.”

Sanji inches you closer, wrapping one arm around your waist while his other hand cradles the back of your head. “I love you too. More than you could possibly imagine.”

You quip back at him while wrapping your arms around his neck, “I think I have a pretty good idea.”

Sanji leans in the same moment you do, lips meeting in a passionate kiss that sends sparks running through every inch of your being. He pulls you impossibly tighter against him, strong hands caressing your back and holding firm at your waist. Your fingers rake through his hair, touching him to make sure he’s real. He’s here. He loves you. He knew. He always knew.

That night, you realized that your favorite taste from Sanji is his lips on yours. But, once again, he won’t hear you tell him that.

…

Sanji first saw you when a ceremony was held to welcome the new palace staff.

Everyone’s attention had been on your sister, the queen. Understandably so, but his eyes always strayed back to you. You looked gorgeous, wearing a stunning dress perfect for a princess as yourself. A cape draped tastefully down your back. And your crown sparkled brightly under the sun; but try as it might, it couldn’t be as dazzling as you.

Sanji was drawn to you instantly, and he thought he would go on with his life never understanding why.

That is, until you walked into the kitchen at two in the morning to make a sandwich.

It would have been impossible for him to not recognize you. Regular office clothes or not, something was different in the way you carried yourself. It was difficult to miss.

Other people would have thought you appeared mundane. And yet, Sanji found you the most beautiful then.

Because you let yourself smile more when you don't wear your crown. 

But he won’t tell you that.

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡

tags: @songsofadelaide-archive @amitydoodlez @sweetexistentialism @writingmysanity @hotchocolattee @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kenkenmaaa @ay0nha @watercolorskyy @holymusicalmothman @appalost

author's note (yes, again)♡— sooo, what do we think about sworn knight!zoro x princess!reader ? 👀

[writers-hes]

tell me you need me (1 of 2) | c. berzatto x reader

It was good when you started but Carmen Berzatto had the ability to make anyone fall in love with him no matter how much you tried not to. (friends with benefits!carmen, smut, mndi!!!, unprotected p in v, smut! smut!, angst!! fluff, maybe some bad words, blood, unedited) MASTER LISTS

TAGLIST

I need you tonight. Want to go?

You sighed at the message that Carmy sent you. “Want to go” was a code for “I want to have sex.” and it’s been working pretty well for these past few months. You both needed some sort of release for the pent-up stress that you both have. Carmy, with the Bear and you, with art. You were a full-time artist; creating art inspired by food using oil paint and other forms of media. You’ve been stressed with your upcoming gallery opening next month. Would they love it? It’s quite hard to meet the expectations after winning the Herb Alpert Award in the Arts last year. It was close to Carmy’s James Beard Foundation award, if not the same. In a way, at the end of the day, you were two people excelling in your jobs except for everything else. You sucked at relationships, friendships, connection…what wasn’t artistic; you sucked at. Carmy was the same. Without thinking, you typed your response, a four letter word. Maybe you’ll see him tonight.

-

Carmy enters your home like he lived in it. He had his own set of keys, it was easier that way. He’s been so stressed with the Bear and the only thing that he needs is to blow off some of that steam before he can be functional again. There was supposed to be a celebrity who was wishing for a whole fucking kitchen tour tomorrow and he had to stay behind to make sure that everything was perfect. 

“Hey,” he greets you when he sees you perched on your couch. He liked your apartment much better; at least you had multiple rooms and your own space. It’s not like his; there was work everywhere while yours felt homey. Except your studio down the hall—damn, how much do artists earn today?

“Hey,” you replied. “Did you have dinner yet? I can heat up some of the Chinese food I ordered earlier.”

“No, no. It’s alright,” he says, removing his shoes in the doorway. You were always so tidy and meticulous. No outside clothes on the bed; he had to learn that the hard way. “Actually, um, can-can I take a shower first? I want to wash the day away and I-I smell like the kitchen.”

“And you took the L,”

“Ubered here, actually.”

“Surge rates?”

“I was in a rush.”

“Oh,” you gulped. “Well, you still have your clothes in my wardrobe and your toiletries in my bathroom.”

“Which one?” he asked. “Which-which bathroom?”

“The one in my bedroom,” you replied. “You know where the fresh towels are. So…”

“Uh, yeah-yeah,” he says. “Thanks.” You only smiled at him. Conversation before your engagements are usually awkward because you both knew what the two of you were there for. It’s more comfortable afterwards; when he talks about the Bear or asks you about your art.

You and Carmy met from a friend of a friend. You were looking for chefs that could serve you inspiration for your paintings when she mentioned Carmen Berzatto. You reached out to him and he replied three months later, telling you that he can show you some of the recipes that he’s been working on. He’s an artist himself—Sistine Chapel art kind of stuff. He explained the components of his dish over dinner in your hotel apartment in New York. You mentioned that you were from Chicago and he mentioned that he’s from Chicago too…you drank too much wine and the rest was history. 

You both stopped communicating when he met Claire but he reached out again, asking if you wanted to meet. He told you all about her and how he fucked up. You drank too much wine again. History has the habit of repeating itself.

You swore to never fall in love with Carmen Berzatto and you didn’t…not until recently. He used to leave immediately once you’re both done. Lately, he’s been staying over. He talks to you about everything. He stays over and wakes you up with coffee and some Michelin Star quality pancakes or French toast. He watches you take your first bite before he takes his, likes to watch your reaction and likes hearing your praise.

You were too lost in your reviere to notice Carmen walking to you, all fresh and clean. He lays a hand on your shoulder and kisses your neck.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, voice deep and sultry. 

“You,” you replied, reaching up to massage his curls. 

“Good,” he says, removing himself from you and sitting on the opposite side of the couch. “Needed you today…but I want to talk first before…before…”

“That’s fine with me,” you replied, inching closer to him. “What’s wrong?” He puts his hand on your knee, squeezing it lightly. Since when was he so comfortable around you?

“I…I just… Mikey,” The name lingers heavy in the air. Anytime Carmen feels the crushing weight of the pressure, he says Mikey. Whenever he feels inadequate, not enough, never enough—he says Mikey.

“He’ll be proud of you, Carm,” you said, smiling at him. “Like everyone else is.”

“I’m sorry for not inviting you to the opening…Claire was-was there and…”

“I understand,” You put your hand over his to reassure him that everything’s okay. “I understand.”

“You wouldn’t have seen me,” he chuckled. “I was locked inside the walk-in the whole time and well, everything was great. What if I’m not needed?”

Is it too late for me to love you? 

“Carm…” you trailed off, trying to find the words. “Of course, you’re needed. The Bear wouldn’t be The Bear without you, you know? Your family must be so proud of you because I know that-that I am. I’m so proud of you and I-I need you so much,” you told him. “I need you, Carmen. More than you could ever know.”

Is it too late for me to love you? 

Maybe it was the words that you said, maybe it was the long forgotten show on the T.V., maybe it was because the T.V. screen illuminated your face in a way that was so, so beautiful. Maybe it was just him.

“Let’s go to bed,” he rasps, taking your hand and dragging you to the bedroom. Once he closes the door behind him, Carmy presses you against it, taking your chin and kissing you. It was slow and needy; this kiss was needy. You trail your hand underneath the white shirt that hugged his figure. You caress his sides up and down; softly; slowly and Carmen releases a whimper into your mouth. I need you. I need you. I need you. 

“Baby,” he whispers, pulling away from you to remove his shirt. “Baby, baby, baby.”

“I need you, Carmen,” you muster the courage to kiss his neck now, sucking and nipping right under his collarbone. He lets you do it, he lets you mark him like you own him. He tugs on the roots of your hair lightly. You lick the purple bruise, nipping it again just so it could last one more week. Carmen was sighing above you, letting you take him like he wanted to be taken. His hands itch, slipping right under the waistband of your panties to cup your heated cunt. “Carmy,”

“I know, baby. Let’s get you to bed, hm?” he asks, pushing you slightly. “Lay down for me. I missed you so much. Let me show you,”

You obey his commands, opening your legs widely like he likes. He crawls until his face is right in front and removes your underwear, tossing it to the side. He’ll take care of that later.

“You’re so wet,” he groans, when he lets his index finger trail along your slit. You buckle in need; silently begging him to do more. “So, fucking wet,” he repeats, parting your folds until he sees your glistening cunt. 

“Carm…” you whine. He spits on your clit and you whimper. 

“Let me taste you, hm?” you heard him say, his wandering fingers rubbing all sorts of shapes on your folds. You could only nod and he takes that, licking a bold stripe. You press your cunt against his tongue and he just takes it. He licks a few more stripes before sucking your clit softly. 

“Carmy,” you moan. Your hands trail down underneath your shirt, thumbs softly flicking your sensitive nipples. Carmy could just come at the sight of you playing with them but he holds back, sucking your clit harsher before plunging his thick middle finger inside you. “Oh, fuck,” 

He pumps the finger slowly…in, out, in, out while he licks your sensitive bud. 

“Fuck, Carmy,” you whimper. “Fuck me,”

“Later,” was his nonchalant reply; enjoying the sweet nectar that dripped from your sloppy pussy. It was better than any dessert he’s ever had before. If it was um to him, he’d have his head buried in between your legs, eating you out forever. You buckle again, pinching your nipples hard and tugging them. 

“Carm…”

“I know, I know,” he says, sucking your clit harshly for one last time before crawling on top of you. “Taste,” he orders. You obliged, opening your mouth and putting on a show with the way you licked your juices off of his finger. “Fuck,” he groans. He palms himself through his boxers while you sucked on his finger. You released it with one last suck before putting your hand on top of Carmy’s to feel his hardening cock underneath. You push his hand away while you squeeze his member lightly. Just enough for him to rut his hips against your hand. Just enough for him to toss his boxers to the side.

You tried to sit up to see him pump a few strokes, moaning your name while he did. He gets off the bed, looking at the way your body moved while you breathed. 

“Beautiful,” he whispers to himself before dragging your body to the end of the bed. He pries your legs open and puts one of them over his shoulder. He liked it like this, it fills you up in ways you cannot describe. “Need you to play with your tits while I fuck you, hm?”

He taps his cock against your pussy.

“Can you hear how wet you are?” he asked, sliding his cock in between your folds. You could feel the protruding vein run along your nub and you moan, massaging your breasts to show him your obedience. “Fuck,”

“Carmy…” you whimpered. “Please.”

He hums, grabbing his member and teasing your wet entrance with his pink tip. “You’re so…”

With no warning, Carmy plunges deep into you and you both groan. You were waiting for this. He’s been wanting this the whole day. He stays there for a few seconds before he thrusts in and out of you slowly. 

“Fuck,” 

The slopping noises inside your room reverberated in your walls and for a few moments, the sounds of your groans and skin slapping against skin heightens your arousal. Carmy thumbs your clit and he feels your walls clench around him.

“Don’t do that, petal,” he rasps, sweat dripping on his forehead. “I’ll cum fast if you do.”

“Sorry,” you choked out. He only grunts as he adjusts his pace. He was faster now and you could hear he ragged breathing. “Carmy, I need you.”

“Y-you need me,” he repeats to himself. “You need me.”

“I do,” you told him, moaning when he plunges his cock deep inside you. “Need you, need you,” 

“Oh, fuck,” he groans. “Tell me that you need me. Tell me,”

“I need you, Carmy,” you whine. “I need you to cum inside me,” 

Carmy’s eyes widened. You’ve never let him do that before. He always had to pull out or use a condom. 

“Want me to fill you up?” he asks, his voice strained. “I’ll fill you —oh, fuck,” 

“Yes, please,” you sobbed, breath hitching at the feeling of his cock twitch inside of you. “Fuck, Carmy.”

Sex has never felt this good. 

You could feel the breaking point come nearer and he does too. His movements were sloppier, his breathing even more ragged that it was. Your walls were clenching around him but that seemed to arouse him even more. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he grunted. “I’ll fill you up, hm?” 

“Yes, please, Carmy,” you whine. He could only nod, doing his best to keep his orgasm at bay. He wanted to prolong this feeling; this emotion but he couldn’t. “Fuck, Carmy, I’m cumming, I’m cumming. Carm—oh!”

He follows soon after, moaning your name as he shoots ropes of cum inside your pussy. He could feel your walls clench around him and he thrusts in slowly, to ride both of your orgasms away. 

“You-you liked that?” he asked. He doesn’t pull out. Instead he takes your other leg and hangs in on his shoulder. “We have to make sure that not a drop goes to waste.”

You nodded and felt his hands caress your legs slowly. He slowly lays your legs back down on the bed and crawls on top of you, kissing your torso, neck, and your chest while he did. 

“Stay there,” he ordered and you nodded in assent. You just let him cum inside you. He walks over to the carafe on your bedside, filling the glass with water and then, taking a hand towel from your cabinet. He pours a little bit of the liquid onto the towel. You sit up when he wordlessly gives you the glass of water. He watches you finish it and kisses your head when you gave him the glass back. He sets it on the floor carefully before opening your legs so he could clean you up.

“No,” you shook your head and he stops, alert because you told him no. “I’m…I’m still sensitive,”

“Okay, petal,” he nods, taking the glass and the towel away. He picks up the tossed articles of clothing puts it in the laundry basket. He was quiet when he takes a fresh set of pyjamas and underwear from your wardrobe. “Raise your arms,” he says and you do. He puts a new shirt on you. “Lay down.” You followed him. He puts a new pair of panties on you. “Thank you,”

You were so tired now but you were still so aware of Carmy’s actions. He stands up from the bed to wear new clothes and sits down on the bed. He carefully places your head on his lap and plays with your hair.

“Thank you,” he says, bowing down to kiss your forehead. “Why don’t you sleep for me, hm?”

“Will you be here when I wake up?”

“Waffles or pancakes?”

“Waffles with whipped cream.”

-

Why won’t you let me love you?

There were times when you’d fight with Carmen. A disagreement over something so, so, so small. This time, it was big. It was the opening of your gallery and he promised to be there. It was a big night—multiple art collectors and mongers from all over America came to see your latest pieces. They were all inspired by the food you grew up eating in Chicago; a collection of how culture, identities, and personalities affect eating. Your paintings were in vibrant colors—cup ramen with cheese, cannoli, food that you grew up eating whenever your mom was away. There were small details on the significance of the new collection to your life and he wasn’t there. You were on the stage, telling everyone how grateful you were to the audience but you were preoccupied, looking for a familiar mop of curls in the crowd. He didn’t come. He didn’t go. 

You smiled at them half-heartedly before leaving the stage, ready to be whisked away by some art dealer. You were whisked away by multiple guests, asking you for more details on the painting. You all told them everything they needed to know, what they should do if they’d like to make a purchase…

It would have been alright if he texted you…but he promised he’d be there. He promised he’d take you home. He promised.

-

Carmy was sitting alone in his apartment. He left The Bear earlier than usual and went straight home. He did it all, shower, put a nice suit, and fix his hair. He did it all, he even ran to the nearest florist to buy you flowers but he didn’t go. 

Isn’t this what lovers do? 

He wasn’t your lover. He couldn’t let himself be distracted again. He had to focus; he couldn’t fail the people that relied on him. He looked at the bag of groceries he got from the store; he was supposed to cook you something special tonight. Have you eaten yet? Fuck the suit that he paid for dry cleaning; fuck the flowers; fuck him. It must have hurt you—he knows that. Tonight was a big night and you were so excited to show him a painting that you’ve been working on. 

“I won’t sell it,” you told him. “I’ll have it shipped to you first thing in the morning.”

Would you still send it to him?

-

By the end of the night, you were exhausted. Happy, but exhausted. It was normal; talking to everyone and being scintillating the whole night was work but it was worth it. Your paintings all had their new owners, except for the painting that you promised to Carmy. Would he still want it? You were alone in the studio, wrapping the 4 by 3 foot canvas with the best quality glassine. You were giving this to him tomorrow. If he doesn't want to have it, you’ll probably just donate it somewhere else. 

You laid awake in your bed all night long, waiting for his text. It was funny, just last week he was begging you to tell him that you needed him but when you needed him most, he wasn’t there. 

You arrive at The Bear just before it opens, the big canvas tucked under your arm. He was sure to be there and had always told you to use the back door if you weren’t dining. You always obliged, of course, opening the backdoor to reveal everyone. You’ve met Sydney and Richie before but you haven’t met the others yet. You were an alien in an unknown world; Carmy’s employees looking at you, as if wondering who this girl was. 

“Hey,” Sydney greeted, looking at the glassine covered thing that you were carrying. “Didn’t know you were coming in today. Congratulations on your exhbit,”

“Yeah, Congrats. What’s that, sweetheart?” Richie asked. 

“Oh,” you just nodded. Carmy couldn’t even look at you. “I just came here to give this to…uh, Carmy,” you cleared your throat. “Carm…?”

“Uh, yeah-yeah,” he stuttered. “Can we go to the office?” 

“Sure.”

You followed him into the office while Richie tells everyone to go back to what they were doing. Your heart was hammering inside your chest, afraid that this was going to be another one of those petty fights that you’ve had with him. 

You were wrong. So, so wrong. 

“You didn’t come last night,” you told him, shielding yourself from him with the painting. “I…I waited.”

“Sorry,” was his laconic reply. You nodded, chuckling. 

“That’s all?” you asked. “Just…sorry? No explanation, no nothing?” you asked. “I was looking for you the whole night, Carm. You promised you were coming,”

“I don’t know what-what you want me to say,” he says, looking everywhere but at you. “I-I-I’m sorry, okay? I had other plans.”

“You promised months ago that you were coming,” you repeated. “I called Sydney last night because you weren’t answering and she told me that you left early.”

“You’re spying on me now?” he asks, suddenly defensive. “I had things to do that night. I can’t-can’t just put everything on hold for-for you.” He spits his words like venom, voice getting louder with every word.

You frowned, not recognizing who the boy was in front of you. It’s not like you asked him to put his life on hold. Your heart was beating so fast in anger, ears ringing. 

“I see. So you just need me around and you-you just I don’t know, call me because you need to get your dick wet?” you asked, matching his volume. “You just need me around when no one else is there to fuck you? Is that it?” you asked. “What the fuck?” 

Carmy blinks, tries to think of the words he’s about to say but he couldn’t stop himself. He could never seem to stop himself. 

“You’re the only one desperate enough to do so,” he shrugs. It breaks your heart in pieces, really. The nights Carmen spent nuzzling his head in your shoulder before you slept probably meant nothing to him. Your face falls, contorting in hurt at what he just said. Fuck Carmen Berzatto. Fuck him. “I’m not your fucking boyfriend. I don’t know why you expect me to just-just-just do something!”

“Maybe I wanted you there as my friend!” you shouted over. Your voices could be heard from outside but everyone else pretended like they weren’t listening to anything that you both were saying. You were shouting over each other now, the fuse just breaks. “If you didn’t have any fucking plans to actually go, then don’t give me your good for nothing fucking promises!”

“I don’t need a girl leeching on me when I’m opening a fucking restaurant. Do you want me to put everything on you just because you asked me to? I’m not your fucking boyfriend. You know that right? And maybe-maybe I don’t want to be your fucking friend either!”

“Why would I want you to be my boyfriend, Carmy? You’re-you’re fucking unreliable! You have issues that need fixing. You think Claire could fix that? You think I could fix that? You think the girls you get wrapped around your fucking finger can fix your fucked up fucking head? Huh? Is that what you think? You’re so fucking miserable you make everyone around you miserable! Grow up!” He’s hurt. That’s what you thought of him? That he was miserable? Did he make you miserable?

“I don’t need to go to your fucking art exhibition when they’re all fucking shit.”

You closed your mouth before you could protest. The pain of his words felt like a slap on the face. If he regretted it, he didn’t show it. You turned away, nodding. 

“Fuck you, Carmen. Don’t fucking call me. Don’t fucking knock on my door. Don’t…don’t fucking think of me. I’m fucking done with you,”

“Yeah? You’re done with me, huh? Fuck you,” he spits back. He heard the waver in your voice; heard how you tried to steady everything. He wanted to say sorry but you were already leaving. Richie and Sydney couldn’t even ask you what happened because you were rushing out, throwing the painting you worked hard on for days at the back. Fuck Carmen Berzatto. Fuck him. 

-

“Fuck!” his chefs could hear from outside the office. Everyone heard the vile things you both screamed at each other; everyone heard why you were so angry. Everyone fucking heard. Nobody dared to move, they didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Carmy’s anger; not when The Bear was about to open. Continuous loud bangs and sounds of some object being thrown were heard too. Sugar sighed. 

“Carm?” she called from the door. “It’s almost opening,”

“I-I-I know, Sug.” he replied, blinking. “Uh, can-can you guys go ahead? I’ll be there, I just-just need to you know, calm down?”

“Okay, Bear,” she smiles, tapping the door frame before leaving Carmen in his own thoughts. He gets out of the restaurant through the back door, about to light a cigarette, when he sees the canvas wrapped with glassine. 

“Fuck,” was the only thing he could mutter before taking it and sitting where the staff usually stayed at when they wanted a break. He lights up a stick and lets it hang loose on his lips while he opens your gift with shaky hands. He was so immersed in the experience, gently removing the tape and making sure that nothing was ruined that he didn’t notice Sydney. 

The glassine reveals a painting of a plate of cannolis. He remembered that he told you the story about cannolis during Christmas and how he wanted to recreate that—take it for himself. He traces over the precise brushstrokes shakily. 

“That’s a good painting,” Sydney spoke, her hands behind her back. “Would be a waste to just throw it out.”

“I know,” Carmy nods. “I’m sorry you had to uh, hear all of that.”

“It’s…something,” Sydney replied, making Carmy chuckle. 

“I always…always seem to uh, fuck up everything,” he muttered. “I was on the way there, you know? Last night?”

“Yeah. You were so excited,”

“I was,” he coughed. “But I didn’t go because…” Words died down in his mouth. Why didn’t he go? “I’ve said some things and she-she doesn’t want me to call her anymore and I-I understand but like, I don’t know, Syd.”

Don’t know why I could never seem to just let myself enjoy things. I don’t belong anywhere else but in the fucking kitchen. It’s the only thing I was good at.

“I didn’t really want to to, uh, fuck this up.”

-

I want to talk to you.

Come to my apartment after your shift. Or whenever.

Carmen feels his palms sweat when he reads  texts you sent him days ago. He decided to go today, finally—he was never good at confronting things; always so explosive, so defensive. He didn’t know what he’d feel like today. He knocks on your door and hears the shuffling from the other side. He just got out of The Bear; he was tired but he forced himself to go. He had to go. 

“Hey,” you smiled tightly when you opened the door. “Come in.”

He nods, wordlessly entering your apartment like how henused to. Bag and shoes on the side. Somehow, this made him more nervous than usual. This was a prelude to something else entirely; he believed that.

“How are you? he asked, voice small and looking down. 

“I’m…good,” you replied, looking away. “You?”

“Busy,” he replied. The air felt heavy and his palms were sweating. “I’m…I’m sorry for not being there when I promised you that I would,”

“Why weren’t you there, Carm?” you asked and he could hear the sadness in your voice. He knew that your exhibit meant a lot to you. “You…you told me you will and well, you were…the-the person I want to be there the most.”

“I didn’t know that. I’m- I’m sorry,” he shrugged. “But why? I mean, I-I don’t know art. I like my shit but I-I’m not cool or understand—“

“Because I like you, Carmy.” you told him, looking at him now and trying to go nearer. He stepped back and you stopped your tracks.

“You—what?” he asked, shaking his head furiously; like your confession offended him. “You…like me.”

“I do,” you nodded. “But…it doesn’t matter.”

“Fuck. How many times do we have to go back to this very same place for you to understand?” he asked, running a hand through his hair. He told you before that he didn’t want to date. You told him you understood. You told him he was being egotistic when he told you not to get attached. He wanted to leave. He didn’t expect this to happen—he didn’t want this to happen. “I don’t—I don’t—“

“Carmy,” you cautioned him, trying to ease your beating heart. “Can you listen to me? I-I-I like you, okay and I’ve been thinking about it too. I’m—you’re always staying behind after sex and well, I just maybe thought that you liked me too.” You replied, swallowing his rejection for now.

“I don’t,” he snaps, tone sharp. “We’ll both be miserable in a relationship. I’ll never make-make you happy. You’re right, you know? I’m unreliable and-and-and issues that I need to fix…and I’m not the one you’re looking for,”

“I’m sorry for saying that. It wasn’t my place to do so,” was your meek reply. How does he feel so far away when he feels so, so, so close?

“No, uh,” Carmen blinks, shaking his head. “It’s fine. I-I-I needed to hear those things, you know? I’m sorry too…for everything.”

“Thank you.”

“That’s it then?” he asked. He was distressed. How could he fuck this up after telling Sydney that he didn’t want to fuck things up with you? “I…I had fun,” You were the only one who kept me afloat when everything else turned to shit. I missed you when we stopped talking. I should have fought harder. What else could I have done?

“Fun,” you chuckled bitterly. “Fun…that’s the only thing you’re going to say to me?”

Carmy frowned. 

“What else did you want me to say?”

“I don’t know, Carmy!” you exclaimed, pacing back and forth but never towards him. “God! Tell me that I’m important to you. Tell me that I’ll still be your friend…tell me that you—that you—that I mean more than a fuck!”

Silence. Carmy couldn’t find the words to tell you what you truly meant to him…that he wanted what you wanted too but he was too scared to fuck it all up again like he did with Claire.

You nodded, looking away. You breathed in deeply, as if trying to relieve yourself of the hurt. That’s all you’ve ever meant to him. 

“You lead me along and it’s fine. I know that it’s my fault for wanting other things but at least…at least tell me that I’ll still be your friend; that I still matter to you even if I dug myself a hole by feeling things. Tell me that you still need me to put everything on hold for you because I’ve been waiting you to call me all day…”

“I don’t want you to do that. I don’t want you putting your life on hold for me,” he rasps. “I don’t…”

“But what if I wanted to?” you asked, face slightly contorted because you didn’t want to be so vulnerable in front of him. Not when he hasn’t told you what you wanted yet. Carmy was just looking at you, tapping his foot on the floor. It was a nervous habit that he developed. Fuck, he needed a cigarette.

“Can you, uh, leave?” you asked, voice low. “I…” 

“No, no, no,” he begs, rushing towards you. He grabs a hold of your elbows to remind you that he was there. Would it mean anything? Would his touch convey all of the words he wanted to say? 

“Carm…” your voice breaks. “Carm…”

“No, no. You’re not just that to me,” he reassures “But you have to understand that-that I can’t love you like that.”

“Carmen, please…” you beg, tears brimming in your eyes. “Please…just, just leave,”

You’ve never asked him to leave before but it seemed like it was what you really wanted—like it was what you really needed. He nods, kissing your head softly before detaching himself from you. 

“I’m sorry,” Carmy said. “For-for not saying the right, uh, things.”

“Yeah,” you nod, hiding yourself from him. He hated that you had to do that when you’ve cried on his shoulders multiple times. He never liked seeing you cry; he just didn’t know that one day, he’ll be on the receiving end of your sadness. He watches you rub your forehead, biting your lip to stop yourself from crying. If you started crying, would he stay?

-

It’s been months since Carmy left. He’s been in his best form in the kitchen. He was making things easier for his staff; he was working twenty four hours a day. Going to The Bear early to help with prep; staying late to help them clean after a long shift of cooking and cooking and kitchen tours. He’s been getting acclaim—more acclaim, really. There was a waiting list on his restaurant and positive reviews from left and right flooded in. The Bear was dubbed as “The Restaurant of the Year” in Chicago despite being less than a year old. 

He’s been doing good—perfect. 

It was like he was a hamster in a fucking wheel with no other way to escape. He likes putting himself in gear, like driving fast because it makes him believe that nothing really hurts him. He didn’t like being at home; it reminded him too much of you. It reminded him of when you’d lean on the kitchen counter, a small smile on your lips while you watched him cook you something. He didn’t like sitting on the couch because it reminded him of when he slept with his head on your lap. He didn’t like it in his bedroom because he’s reminded of that night when you pulled him closer in your sleep. He didn’t like The Bear because the painting that you gave him hung so proudly by the dining area. It was marvellous—they said. How was he able to get a painting that you did when your art was so valuable and in demand? 

He was moving so fast so you wouldn’t cross his mind but it seemed like no matter what he did, he'd end up thinking about you anyway. 

It didn’t matter, how come a fall like that made him feel like flying? Maybe he’s waiting for it to hit him but he was feeling alright. 

He was alright. 

“Chef!” Sydney called, looking at Carmen who was chopping the vegetables like a madman. “Carmen!”

“Fuck, what, Sydney?!” he asked, slamming his knife on the counter. 

“You’re bleeding,” Marcus told him and Carmen looked down, blood was all over the chopping board. “You’ve been bleeding for a few seconds now…we’ve all been calling your name, Chef.” 

“Fuck, I-I-I’m…” Carmen was a blubbering mess, just watching his hand bleed like it didn’t matter. “I’m-I’m,”

“Take a break, Carm,” Sydney says but her partner just shakes his head. “Carm—“

“Sydney, don’t—don’t make me take a fucking break, please.”

“You’ll need to clean up and make sure there’s no more blood,” Sydney told him. “I’m not fucking around,”

“Yeah,” he nods, putting his fist over his heart and drawing circles. Sydney nods and Carmy fixes his station. 

He couldn’t stop shaking, though. Even Tina saw how his hand trembled. What the fuck?

“Carmen,” 

“Yeah…just…just give me a second, please.” he nods, picking his knife again and doing everything perfectly. Like clockwork. He’s back. He’s back. He’s fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m alright. 

PART 2

AN: Thank you for the love! This is going to be a two-part fic because I love how everything is right now… Don’t forget to comment / reblog if you like it! I read every single little thing you guys type…even the hashtags.

TAGLIST: @kpopgirlbtssvt @morgthemagpie @hal3ynicol3 @1800-queen-trash

[mrsbarnesblog]

Do you want me to help you?

masterlist ko-fi ao3

Summary: As you and Bucky spend time at your place, things get hot pretty fast.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: +18❗️smut, subby Bucky, he's jetting his first blow job, come eating.

Author's note: enjoy<3

It was another Friday night when you invited Bucky to your place so you could order some food, watch movies, and cuddle under the blankets.

You and Bucky met almost six months ago at the coffee shop. You were walking in when someone suddenly bumped into you, and you ended up lying on the ground with a large coffee stain on your pink blouse. The man who caused this mess ended up being an Avenger. Sergeant Barnes, a former Winter Soldier, was really cute when he got all nervous and couldn’t stop apologizing for the situation. He said that he really needed to be somewhere else, so he took your number with a promise to pay you for everything and ran away, leaving you with shock and excitement bubbling in your body.

You were too stunned to speak, because not only was it an Avenger, but it was Bucky fucking Barnes—the person whose whole biography you willingly studied in school. He was much taller than you imagined and definitely more attractive. His apologies seemed to be really sincere, so you were just stupidly nodding while he was speaking. Bucky asked for your phone so he could call himself and have your number until he would have time to properly make amends.

Then you didn’t know that you had just met your future boyfriend.

Soon he called you and asked you to meet him at the cafe, and you agreed without any hesitation. He was too sweet for his own good, and that minidate was one of the best experiences that you’ve ever had.

Now, you don’t know how you ended up in this situation, but you were sitting on Bucky’s lap on your couch while the two of you were too lost in the kiss.

Of course, you have already kissed, but most of the time it wasn’t too rough or desperate. You knew that Bucky had hard times trusting people, so you didn’t push him with anything. You were happy just to be with him, and if he needed time to start touching you or have sex, it was okay.

But right now, something has changed. His hands were gripping your thighs, pushing you harder on his erection in the jeans. Bucky kissed you like a starving man; his tongue was in your mouth, and he had already bit your lower lip several times. You were so lost in the pleasure that you didn’t even notice that you started moving your body against his.

At that moment, he came to his senses, stopped your hips with his hands, and pulled out of the kiss, breathing heavily.

"What happened?" You asked while trying to catch your breath. "Was it too much?"

"I don’t know." He looked you in the eyes, and you saw that his own were much darker than usual. "It was too long ago, and I'm not sure that I’m ready right now." He looked down as if he were ashamed to say this.

"That’s okay, baby, I promise. We can go at your own pace. I didn’t have sex for some time too, so that’s okay." You smiled at him while your hand found a place on his stubbled cheeks.

"It’s not just a few years." He mumbled. 

"What?" 

"I haven’t had sex since I went to war." Silence fell on you while you were trying to process his words.

"Wait… really?" He nodded. 

"You know, while I was with HYDRA, I was busy with different… things. And after that, I was just trying to get back to a normal life."

"I see, but I really thought that you at least were with someone in Bucharest or in Wakanda."

"No. In Bucharest, it was unsafe to even go out in the streets, and in Wakanda, every woman was for me like a sister, you know? You are the first one who I wanted to know as more than a fri-Oh, shit!" He suddenly gasped. You just wanted to move a little bit, but instead, you accidentally touched his erection.

"Oh my God, I’m sorry!"

"T-that’s okay, just don’t move, please. It will disappear." Bucky threw his head back on the couch and closed his eyes tightly.

"Do… do you want me to help you?" You asked almost innocently. "I mean, we don’t have to have sex, but I can do other things to help your problem."

There was another awkward silence when Bucky opened his eyes and looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face.

"You don’t have to do that. Really."

"What if I want to?" You moved closer to his face, almost touching his lips. "Would you let me take care of you?"

Bucky’s eyes were dark again, full of need and lust. Finally, he nodded slightly. You gave him another sweet kiss on the corner of his lips, and not wanting to waste any more time, you slipped from his lap onto the floor.

"Wait! You want to—you don’t have to—I mean– fuck." Bucky hid his face behind his hand from embarrassment. You act like a fucking child.

"Hey, baby. Talk to me. It’s okay." You put your hands on top of his, pulling them away. "What happened, James? You thought I meant to help you with my hands?"

"Mhm. I’ve never done this before." He mumbled something that you almost didn’t understand. Bucky's face was pink, so you put your hands on his burning cheeks to calm him down. "I’m sorry that I’m such a mess."

"You’re not a mess, Bucky. So you’ve never got a blowjob? Even before the war? I thought you were a ladies’ man." You asked gently.

"I was, but back in the day, it was hard to find a girl that would do it just because, you know? Sex was more available because blowjobs were more intimate, I guess. And I’ve never had real relationships, sooo." He just shrugged, feeling even more embarrassed.

"I understand. And that’s okay if you don't have experience in something. You don’t have to be ashamed, at least not with me. I still want to do this, if you don’t mind." Bucky nodded again before leaning closer to your face and kissing you with passion.

While you were kissing, your hands slipped from his face, running across his chest and abs, right to the bottom of his jeans. You pulled away from the kiss and pushed Bucky back onto the sofa. As soon as the pants were unbuttoned, he helped you pull his clothes lower, and you gasped.

His beautiful dick was standing right in front of your face. Hard, thick, with a vein from one side and pre-cum leacking from the tip. Honestly, you’ve never found them attractive, but it seemed like Bucky was perfect everywhere, so the sight before your eyes made your mouth water.

"Holy shit." You breathed out as your hand wrapped around him, and the fingers barely even touched each other. Your boyfriend’s body instantly tensed; he was not used to this kind of touch. You gave him a few strokes, seeing how his eyes rolled back in pleasure and a tiny moan escaped his mouth. "You know, that’s a shame that no one put this pretty cock in their mouth." You smiled as Bucky’s ears got pink from your praise. "Look at me."

As soon as he did as you told him, you looked directly into his eyes and licked him from the bottom to the top, swirling your tongue around the tip. The taste instantly filled you, and you slightly moaned, sending vibrations down Bucky’s body.

He tried to hold himself together. He really did. But the sight of you on your knees, looking him in the eyes with his cock in your mouth, He completely lost it and let out the loudest moan that he had ever made. Both metal and flesh gripped the sides of the couch, but the pleasure was too intense, and he was overwhelmed.

You started moving your head up and down, still looking Bucky in the eyes. The tip of his dick met your throat, but there were still a few inches left.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Y/N, holy shit!" He whined and threw his head back.

You let him slip out of your mouth with a loud ‘pop’ and started stroking him with a hand, using the mixture of your saliva and Bucky’s pre-cum to make it easier.

"Put your hand on my head, baby. Do whatever you want." Bucky hesitated for a few seconds, but then his right hand fell on top of your head and made a messy ponytail. You smiled and put your lips back on his dick, gently licking and sucking the tip. The hand on your head slightly pushed you down, and you allowed Bucky to control you.

He slipped back into your mouth until his head touched the back of your throat. You started moving on your own, but Bucky’s hand was still tightly holding your hair as he was showing you the pace that he liked. Your eyes were watering, and saliva was dripping down your chin, but you didn’t care about it when your boyfriend was such a mess.

Bucky’s eyes were partly closed as he was trying to look at the beautiful view before him. Your pretty lips were wrapped around his cock, and it was probably the hottest thing that he had ever seen. He couldn’t hold back the small moans escaping his mouth because it was too good—feeling your warm and wet mouth around him. He tried not to push you too hard, but from time to time his grip tightened and his hips moved by themselves, making you choke.

"Doll." Bucky moaned. "Please, baby, I’m so close, oh my– fuck." He instantly pushed you lower, but you didn’t seem to mind. Instead, you moaned around his cock, lifting your free hand on his torso under the shirt. You felt that his body was tense, and the muscles under your fingers were trembling. You knew that Bucky was close, so you ran your nails over the hot and soft skin. "Doll– doll, you should move. I’ll cum– fuck, please." Bucky whined and tried to take you off of him, but you didn’t let him and instead swirled your tongue around him.

You felt it before it happened: Bucky’s body tensed, his cock twitched, and a loud moan filled the room. In a second, your mouth was filled with a warm, a little bit salty, and a little bit sweet seed. You moaned at the taste, still sucking his dick until you knew that he had completely finished, and only then swallowed every single drop.

Bucky’s hand fell out of your hair on the sofa near him, and he was sitting there almost senseless with heavy breathing and closed eyes. You helped Bucky put himself back into pants and then sat on his lap again.

"James?" You gently put your hand on his face.

"Mm." Bucky finally opened his eyes, and you have never seen him in this condition: sleepy, relaxed, with a tiny, lazy smile on his face. "Can’t believe that you just did it, doll. It was better than any sex that I’ve had in my life." He leaned into your touch. Bucky grabbed your face and dragged you closer until you two connected in a kiss, and he could taste himself on your tongue.

"I’m glad you liked it."

"Liked? Doll, you almost sucked my soul out." He chuckled. "Now I have to pay back." Suddenly, one warm and one cold hand were under your pajama shorts.

"Not today, baby. You’re tired. Would you stay for a night?" You bumped your nose with his, leaving light and short kisses on his lips.

"Of course, doll."

[koolades-world]

HEYY GIRLIEE soo I got this idea on my mind cuz it's 11 pm and I randomly got energy so I was like thinking if you could make something like how the Brothers would treat or recognize signs of fem.MC WHO grew up Poor like not eating much too en sure the rest Got food or getting super excited when they get something as Simple as a birthday cake or more then 2 or expensive presents or being extra care full with spending money while for getting that if they asked for something from the Brothers theyd happily get it ( pardon my grammar enflish is my Third language😭) -from the awesome and amazing khaos

HEYYY KHAOS!!! hope you've been well!!! good to hear from you!

sure thing :)

enjoy <3

Mc who grew up poor

Lucifer

after hearing you’d never had an extravagant birthday party, he makes it his mission to make it happen

after all, everyone deserves at least one big bash, especially you. you’ve done so much for him and his family and it means so much to him

he talks with barbatos about make a huge cake in your favorite flavor and diavolo about using one of the many ballrooms in the palace

needless to say, he’s going all out to make you happy and see you smile

Mammon

he was already determined to spoil you

however, now he's bound to accidently send you into a coma with the amount of gifts he's throwing at you

you're his best girl!! you only deserve the best things

if you want him to tone it down, he will, but that won't stop him from buying little things that reminds him of you <3

Levi

at first he was confused about how you looked shocked every time he spoke about a crazy purchase he'd made

once you tell him why though, he's going to get you anything media related that you want

into a new manga? he'll get you your own set. really into a specific fandom? the next time they drop merch he's getting everything related to your fav

he always goes out of his way to make sure you feel seen

Satan

the two of you already tried to make an effort to do at least monthly outings together

but he noticed you always try to order the least expensive item on the menu at cafes, so next time, he orders in advance what he knows you’d really enjoy

seeing your face light up was payment enough for him

after that, you have weekly outings where he spoils you and he always makes sure you’re having a fun time

Asmo

besides mammon, he’s the king of lavish living

he’d been showering you in all sorts of expensive products for your face, hair and otherwise

if he’s being a little much, just let him know since he can always find products that you like more

the only thing he won’t compromise on is your spa days together since it’s one of his ways of letting you know he cares

Beel

he’s going to make sure your plate is always full

you’ll never run out of your favorite snacks under his watch

sharing food is his love language

if he could give you the world, he would

Belphie

he’s always there to help you unwind and destress

(even if his brothers are the source of the headache)

he wants you to get amazing rest every night

so, without you asking, he buys the nicest pillow and sheet set money can buy and surprises you with it!

[whiskersz]

Hello all, I wanted to dedicate some time to writing some self indulgent stuff, so here's some Adam dating HCs! Do tell me if you'd like more ^o^ Also I'm trying to play around with the format of my posts.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Adam x Reader - Dating Headcanons

✦ Adam undoubtedly has a soft spot for you; from refraining to call you distasteful nicknames to trusting you to preen his wings, many are the ways in which he demonstrates that you’re special to him, not just another Angel. You’re one of the few souls who willingly shows him kindness after all, so how could he ignore that? Despite acting like a jerk most of the time, he really can’t bring himself to be that way around you.

✦ To get someone like him to fully respect you takes a lot of time and patience; just ignoring his unpleasant comments and jokes alone won’t do, you’ll sometimes have to retort with a joke of your own, or even laugh at them. If you do it’ll boost his confidence stratospherically, it’ll make him full on puff up his chest and give one strong flap of his wings to hear you laugh at something he just said.

✦ Something that I also mentioned in another one of my headcanons posts is that he loves naps; he’s a pretty lazy guy in general, so between meetings and training he’ll surely want to relax, even better if he gets to do that with you. He likes lying on his couch with you wrapped up in his arms and wings - bonus point if you’re peacefully sleeping – with his TV playing in the background. If you’re in bed though, expect him to move around a lot as he does so unconsciously in his sleep, unless he’s holding you...in which case his arms will practically trap you and you won’t be able to leave without waking him up.

✦ Another thing he quite enjoys doing with you is playing videogames, just to chill a bit together, and if drinking was allowed in Heaven I feel like he would be the type to play drinking games. He surprisingly doesn't need much to have fun, even in the house.

✦ Adam loves eating ribs, but he can’t cook for shit. He’ll always order those or takeout on a daily basis, so you decide that it’s a good idea to teach him at least the basics. He’s very clumsy in the kitchen, doesn’t really understand how most things work but hey, at least he can tell when the water’s boiling! So teaching him how to cook his own ribs is a bit of a process, but eventually he learns and takes pride in knowing how to make his favorite dish on his own. Give it some time and he’ll be parading around and telling anyone who asks about how his ribs are way better than the ones you can get at a restaurant.

✦ Speaking of food, he’ll almost always take you somewhere to eat if you’re on a date. Even if you’re just getting fries from some stall on the side of the street, he’ll make sure you’ve gotten a treat at the end of the day.

✦ He’s a big show off too, so he’ll 100% propose you to try playing guitar only to exhibit his own skills. If you compliment him enough and you appear to be genuinely interested in learning though, he will gladly be your teacher. He will show you how to play the songs he likes them most – his own – and reward you with a ‘You rock, babe!’ or something along those lines and a kiss whenever you get something right. He’s really, really proud of you and of being able to teach you something.

✦ Adam loves casually calling you pet names. He won’t use extremely cheesy ones, but things like babe/baby, sexy and hon. He’ll use them in sentences where they don’t even really belong, even, just because he’s willing  to show you this sweet side of him that nobody else gets to witness. The one thing he will never call you is shortened versions of your name; he finds those extremely corny.

✦ He’s also not really afraid of showing his love in public, PDA is very much his thing when you two are together. Hand holding, a wing draped across your back, an arm around your shoulder...careful not to do too much though, he’s not really a fan of kissing in public or anything on the more intimate side like that. If this happens he won’t deny you a kiss or a hug but you’ll have to deal with his attitude for a while.

[writingwithciara]

Missed Goal ~Quinn Hughes~

summary: after the devils beat the canucks, quinn returns to his apartment, where his roommate has a plan to cheer him up

word count: 2.3k

pairing: quinn hughes x roommate!reader

notes: I feel so bad that quinn didn’t score a goal in the game against his brothers. Like my heart physically hurts just thinking about. My poor baby ☹ Anyways, I think there’s a touch of anxiety speak closer to the end but that’s pretty much it for triggers/warnings

masterlist

“Are you sure you can’t come to the game tonight?” Quinn asked his roommate as he rushed around their apartment, grabbing his gear. He looked up at her and waited for a response.

“I really wish I could but I have to work tonight. Sorry, Quinn.” y/n looked at her roommate and smiled. “But I will be watching from here and I’ll be cheering for you. You’re going to do amazing tonight.”

“I really appreciate that. Thanks.” He looked at his bag and then back up to y/n. “It’s not going to be the same without you there, but at least I know you’ll be cheering for me here.”

“I’d cheer for you anywhere. And that’s a promise.” y/n smiled and walked over to him, extending her pinky. He wrapped his pinky around hers and placed a kiss on it. It was a simple gesture. One they did before every single game.

“When I get home tonight, we can celebrate. Win or lose.”

“You’re going to win, Quinn.” y/n smiled at her best friend. “You may be playing against both of your brothers and they may be great but you’re better. You got this, Hughes. Now go and dominate those Devils.”

“Thank you for being you.” He grabbed his bag and walked out the door. Y/n went to her computer and began doing her work tasks.

A few hours later, she turned the game on and abandoned her work to cheer for Quinn. When Jack scored during the first period, she cheered. She wanted to be happy for the boys but whenever something good happened, it was never Quinn. Jack scored, Luke scored and it seemed like every other player got a goal except Quinn. He did get an assist but that didn’t make y/n happy. Instead, she felt extremely bad for him.

Every time the camera would cut to him, he would look defeated and that broke y/n’s heart. It was bad enough he always felt somewhat inferior to his brothers when it came to hockey, but for the commentators (and even some fans) to constantly point that out, was a little upsetting. She knew he would be upset when he got back home so she decided she would make him feel better.

She ordered his favorite food, knowing he’d be hungry when he got back, and she set out some relaxation options for him to choose from. All of his favorite ways to wind down after a game. As she admired her work, she hadn’t realized how long it actually took to set it up until the front door opened and she heard the keys hit the table.

“Hey. I’m home.”

Y/n walked out of Quinn’s room and when she saw him, her heart felt like it was barely hanging together. His hair was a mess and it was hard to tell but it looked like he got dressed in a hurry and that his shirt was inside out.

“Hey.” y/n stepped closer to him as he ran his hands through his hair for what was probably the millionth time since the game ended an hour ago. “I saw the game.”

“I was kind of hoping you didn’t.” he chuckled lightly.

“And why is that?”

“I didn’t want you to see how much I messed up tonight. I don’t ever want to disappoint you or make you regret cheering for me.” He sighed and collapsed on the couch. Y/n sat next to him and pushed him to continue. “I feel like I should be playing better this year but I’m not. And maybe that’s because I know Luke and Jack are better players and it’s terrifying.”

“Quinn, you didn’t mess up tonight. And even if you did, I would still be proud of you.” She looked at him and smiled kindly. It was the smile that always brought him back when he got lost in his own head. “Jack and Luke may be good players, but they only got that way from watching you do what you do. You’re an amazing player and an even better big brother.” She looked at him again and noticed he was focused on her words. She also noticed how hard he was trying to hold all his emotions in. “I ordered from your favorite restaurant so let’s eat and once you’ve got a little bit of energy back, we can talk, okay?”

“Oh, you’re the best.” Quinn smiled a little as he reached for the takeout containers. As they ate, the faint sound of the tv playing in the background seemed to relax Quinn a little bit but  y/n could tell he was still stressed. When he finished, Quinn put the empty container on the table and looked over at the girl sitting next to him. “Have I ever told you much I appreciate you? Because it’s really true.”

“You have told me a few times before but really, it’s the least I could do. I mean, you’re allowing me to live with you for pretty much free so being the best roommate I can be is what I’m doing in return.”

“You know, I honestly thank god for bringing you into my life.” Quinn admitted.

“You should thank Jack because if he hadn’t come up to me at the beach that one time when we were 8 years old, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Well, either way, I’m beyond grateful that you’re here and that you’ve been here for so long.”

“Awe, Quinn. You’re gonna make me cry.” y/n smiled and touched his arm gently. The action made him get a little nervous suddenly. When she removed her hand, he felt heat where it had been. Suddenly, everything felt different. The atmosphere became warm and intense but Quinn couldn’t quite put his finger on it. “So, anyway, I have some options to help you relax. Go in your room and pick out whatever it is you want and I’ll make it happen.”

Quinn got up and quickly walked to his room. As he looked at each options carefully, he thought about everything y/n has ever done for him. She has put him first in every possible situation and she’s always there when he feels the weight of the world on his shoulders. She knows exactly what’s going on in his mind at all times. They’re connected in a way that is unexplainable. She is the only one he knows he can come to when he’s feeling the stress and pressure of his career and he knows that she can easily lift all the worries away, even with a simple smile. Suddenly, it clicked. He was falling in love with her.

He picked up the bath stuff and walked back out to the living room, where y/n was busy cleaning up.

“So, how will you be relaxing tonight, Quinn?”

“I’m gonna take a nice hot bubble bath and think about some things.” He smiled and headed towards the bathroom. “Thank you.”

While he did his thing in the bathroom, y/n figured she would set up a mini movie night for after his bath. She popped some popcorn, set out some other snacks and put out a few drinks. She even queued up one of his favorite movie. Monster’s Inc. She knew he would enjoy something light-hearted and fun to finish off the night.

After nearly an hour of Quinn being in the bath, y/n started to get worried. She walked over to the bathroom door and knocked lightly.

“Quinn, you alright in there?”

“Yeah. I’m doing alright.” He chuckled from behind her. She turned around and Quinn was walking out of his bedroom and was in the middle of putting his shirt on. Y/n found herself staring at his body and the way his muscles flexed as the shirt went over his head and over his torso.

“I, um, got a movie all set up and ready for you to enjoy. I know how you like your alone time so I’ll just be in my room, finishing up something for work.”

“No. I want you to enjoy the movie with me. I had plenty of alone time in the car on the way to and from the game, plus that time in the bathroom. I think after the night I’ve had I would really love the company. Especially if it’s your company.” He mentally cringed at the last comment but when he looked at y/n, she was sporting a big smile.

“Well, in that case, I would be honored to be your movie buddy tonight.” She guided him back to the living room and started the movie.

About halfway through the movie, y/n glanced over at Quinn and he looked like he was lost in his head again. She paused the movie and softly placed her hand on the back of his neck, gently playing with the hair that was there. He closed his eyes and thought about the calmness her touch brought him.

“What’s on your mind, Cap?”

“Be honest with me, alright?” he looked at her and when she nodded silently, he closed his eyes and continued to speak. “Am I actually a good player? Or do people just like me because of my brothers? Is Jack a better hockey player than I am? Is Luke?”

“In my honest opinion, I think people love you because you’re incredibly good at what you do, not because of your brothers. You have a kind heart and I love getting able to see that loving side of you every day. People might like Jack better because he’s good looking and they might like Luke better because he’s just adorable. But you wanna know what I think? I think you’re one of the best damn players the NHL has ever had. You’re not a perfect player, but nobody is. Not only that, but you are kind, funny, smart, loving, caring and just perfect in pretty much every sense of the word, Quinn. Some people may not like you, but who cares? You have so many more fans than anyone can count. And your biggest fan? Well she’s sitting on the couch with you, reassuring you that you have no reason to worry. She ditched her work responsibilities to watch you play against your brothers and her heart broke whenever the camera showed that you were upset. She is your biggest cheerleader and wants you to know that she would never favor your brothers over you. Your biggest fan loves you a lot, Quinn. More than you could ever know.” y/n moved her hand from the back of his neck to his arm. He looked at her to search her eyes for any sign that she was lying but he couldn’t find any.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Always.”

“I love you.” He looked at his hands nervously. He had never told a girl he loved her before and now here he was, spilling his soul to his best friend. It made him worry that she would reject the idea. But when she began to run her hand up and down his arm, he felt better about his confession. “And I want you to know that I have never said those words to a girl before so this is new for me.” He took the chance to look at her and when he saw her smile, he knew he needed to get everything out. “I’m not sure when I started feeling this way but I honestly think the feeling has always been lingering in my heart. You have always been by my side and even though Jack is the reason we met, I love that you always preferred me over him. You are the one person in my life who has never loved my brothers more than me, and I love you even more for it. I love you and everything about you, y/n. You make me feel so much better, even on the gloomiest days. The ones where I don’t want to talk to anyone and stay in my room.  Those are my favorite days because even though I say I don’t want to talk to anybody, you always find a way around that and you cheer me up with absolutely no effort. And living here with you these last few years, watching the amount of guys that would stay for a night and be gone by morning, killed me. I didn’t know why at the time, but now I’m sure of it. Y/n, I’m really in love with you.”

Y/n didn’t say a word. Instead, she grinned and moved to straddle his lap. She didn’t break eye contact once. “I’m in love with you too, Hughes.”

And with that being said, their lips met in the middle and fit together perfectly. With each passing second, the intensity behind the kiss kept on growing. Years of feelings being poured out into one simple action. When y/n’s lips parted, Quinn took the opportunity to slip his tongue in, eliciting a small moan from the girl on his lap. He placed his hands on her back and pulled her closer as the kiss deepened. His large hands found their way under her shirt and rested on her waist while hers were tangled in his now extremely messy hair.

“Is it bad that all I wanna do is stay in this position for the rest of my life?” Quinn asked when they finally took a moment to breathe.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere.” y/n pulled him in for another intensely passionate kiss.

All 3 of the Hughes brothers ended up scoring that night.

-----

taglist: @worldlxvlys @jackquinnswife

[thetriumphantpanda]

i've got my love to keep me warm | joel miller

Summary | Joel agrees to spend Christmas with your family, away from the warmth of Texas, and it takes him a little while to warm up to the idea.

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!reader

Word Count | 1.4K

Warnings | Grumpy x Sunshine vibes, some sweetness, some suggestive thoughts but nothing explicit, mentions of consuming food and alcohol.

Authors note | For @yeollie-plz- It's your @pedrostories secret santa!! I really hope you love this because it was good fun to put together! Happy Christmas to you!

“You know, you could at least pretend to be happy?” You tease, nudging your elbow into Joel’s side.

With the way he’s bundled up in his big coat, you’re not sure he actually feels you do it, but he grumbles all the same. Whatever he says in incoherent, but you can discern the meaning perfectly. What’s the point in being here as grown adults? What’s the point in wandering around, looking at lights and getting excited about Christmas, when, for the first time in years, there won’t be any children around?

“Come on,” You beam, taking his gloved hand in yours, “Maybe a drink with a little something in would make you happier?”

“What would make me happier would be sat indoors outta this snow.”

You roll your eyes, pulling on his hand to get him to follow you. He walks by your side, gloved hand sitting in yours as you weave through the crowds of people. Joel had wanted to stay in Texas for Christmas, something about the familiarity of it, not wanting to spend too much money on travelling at this time of year, but knowing it was his first Christmas without Sarah, now that she was all grown up with her own family, you knew that he’d be miserable, no matter that you’d be there with him, so you’d put your foot down, told him the two of you would spend Christmas with your parents up north, somewhere cooler, more festive.

He’d met them plenty of times before, they loved him, thought the sensible, stoic man was good for you. He had his head on his shoulders, a home of his own - settled, is what they’d called him. A far cry from the other boys you’d chosen in the past few years, and they were overjoyed to have a house full of people this year - your brother and his wife, you and Joel, a real family affair.

The centre of town always reminded you of being a child when you came back at this time of year. The streets filled with small stalls - some selling food, some filled with little trinkets from small businesses, all set around the main square, with its big tree, lit up and sparkling.

There’s one stall you zero in on, a small line that you stand in, still gripping at Joel’s hand as you step further towards the front each time someone walks away. You remember the first time you’d stood in this line - you were eight, and your dad had passed you a cup full of warm hot chocolate, a towering swirl of whipped cream on top. You’d sipped it so slowly, savouring the cream and the sweetness of the chocolate, and anytime you’re here, you have to get it, it’s just that these days, it’s always spiked with something.

Joel, of course, orders an Irish coffee - black, bitter coffee, split with cream and his favourite whiskey. You watch closely as he pulls one of his gloves off with his teeth, slipping it in his pocket so he can feel the warmth of it in his palm. He’s watching you just as closely as the lady hands you the cup of hot chocolate, mixed with Bailey’s, still with that tower of whipped cream too.

You both step away, standing off to the side as Joel takes the first sip of his drink. You can see the slight softening of his expression as he goes in for another sip, this one bigger than the first. He’s watching you as you dart your tongue out, taking some of the sweet cream into your mouth before you sip the drink, hissing when it burns your tongue a little.

“That’ll be hot, baby.” He teases, earning a little glare from you as he drinks his again, seemingly unaffected by the steam that rises from his own cup.

“It’s good,” You muse, holding it out to him, “Try it.”

“I don’t want none a’that,” He shakes his head, “Too sweet.”

“Joel Miller,” You chastise, pushing the cup closer to his face, “It’s Christmas, for the love of God, try the hot chocolate.”

He sighs, shakes his head in that way he always does when he knows he can’t win the battle. He hands you his drink, laughs a little when you wrinkle your nose at how strong it smells, takes yours from you and brings it to his mouth, taking a big sip, and when he pulls it away to hand back to you, you can’t stifle the giggle that falls from your mouth.

“What?” He asks, as your giggle falls into proper laughter, “What the hell’s the matter with you?” He snatches his own drink back sinking his neck down into his coat to keep the biting wind from his skin.

“Y-you’ve,” You choke out, pointing at your own nose, “You’ve g-got something here.”

You bring your hand up to his face, running the pad of your thumb over the tip of his nose, swiping the cream from his face. You go to pull it away, to wipe it away on the leg of your jeans, but Joel has other ideas, gripping your wrist to still you. He brings your hand to his mouth, enveloping your thumb into the heat of his mouth. You suck in a breath, feeling the tip of his tongue dart out against the skin, licking the cream off, before he drags your thumb from his mouth with a soft pop.

He drops your wrist from his hold, but you’re stuck, staring right at him, with the familiar throb of want settling across you.

“Thought it was too sweet for you?” You raise an eyebrow when you’ve composed yourself enough to speak.

He shrugs, takes hold of your hand and starts walking you back towards the tree, “If you’re gonna laugh at me, I ain’t gonna make it easy on you.” That familiar tone of grump is back, but you know he doesn’t mind really as he walks slowly, guiding you both to a bench that looks directly at the tree, dressed in red and gold, icy lights casting that familiar festive glow across everything.

He wipes the snow from the bench, makes sure it dry enough for you both to sit on, draping his arm across the back of it, encouraging you to curl into his side. The two of you sit for a while, watching the people come and go - young children excited to stand in line for the chance to meet Santa in his grotto, men on their own going from stall-to-stall, clearly shopping for last minute gifts, and couples, just like the two of you, wrapped up in nothing but each other as they hold hands, point things out to eat other.

“Thank you for coming,” You speak softly into his shoulder, looking up at him as he looks down at you, “I know it’s not really what you wanted, but I like that you’re here.”

“Of course it’s what I wanted,” He speaks just as softly, leaning down to press a featherlight kiss to the tip of your nose, “I only ever want to be where you are baby,” He motions his head to the scene in front of you, “Even if it is in the freezing cold, surrounded by too many people, wherever I’m with you, I’m happy, okay?”

You smile at him, tilt your head slightly, as his lips come down onto yours, cold and chapped from the winter air, but oh-so familiar as they slant across your own. You open your mouth against his, let your tongue meld with his own, the bitter of his coffee mixing with the sweet of your own drink. It’s soft, gentle, and over far too quickly. He pulls away, places two more soft pecks against your mouth, and then settles back against the bench, his hand now resting on your shoulder.

A shiver settles across your bones, something to do with the fact that even a few years into your relationship, he still sets you on fire without even trying, but mainly because it’s fucking freezing. Leant against Joel’s body, you feel him shiver a little too.

“Home?” You ask.

He looks back down at you, smiling a little with a nod, “Home.”

[chukys-mouthguard]

surprised nobody wrote anything about cowboy rempe at the stampede. he looked 🙃. would love a written concept on bumping into him there and maybe he spills a drink on you but you end up getting dragged away and he catches up to you later on in the night and you end up dancing and maybe he even wins u a goofy prize playing ring toss or a corny game.🤠

step right up

1.7k words

pairing: matt rempe x female reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

note: i didn’t not proofread so i apologize for any mistakes 🫶🏼

Spinning around the dance floor, you grabbed a hold of your cowboy hat, holding it tight to your head as you swayed along to the familiar line dancing song. Trying your best to pick up the steps from your friend as she was the expert of the group, always prepared to break out any line dance she can at the drop of a hat.

Throwing your head back laughing you opted for doing your own thing, moving to the music as you sipped your drink. You had forgotten just how fun the Stampede could be; drinks, live music, fair food and games. It was the highlight of the summer.

“Oh shit-”

As you’d done one too many spins you found yourself crashing into a taller boy, towering over you as his chest was smacking you in the face. Your drink spilling all over your shorts, thank god they were black denim and it wasn’t too noticeable.

“I am so sorry, oh my gosh. Are you okay?”

You smiled up at him, laughing as you wiped your hand on your shorts, drying it as best you could though it would do nothing for the stickiness that would remain.

“I’m okay, honest. I’m the clutz not paying attention to where I’m spinning. Are you okay?”

Looking up at him you’d not noticed before how handsome he was. His black denim jacket just tight enough to show off his build, paired with a black t-shirt and blue jeans then topped off with a cream colored cowboy hat. He had a mustache that you’d found fitting on him, though you normally weren’t a fan. Perhaps it just looked good with his choice of outfit for the night.

“Me? Yeah, I’m great, no complaints. Um, sorry about your drink, and your clothes.”

You shrugged it off, little did he know you’d not paid for the drink so you didn’t mind. As the boy went to offer you a replacement your friends were pulling you off into the crowd as a familiar song began playing.

Waving him goodbye he softly smiled, mentally punching himself for not being quicker to speak and get your name. As he watched your figure fade into the crowd he sighed, hoping that somehow he’d cross your path again.

“Matt, dude, you good?”

Ty appeared at the boy's side, offering him a beer as he tried to pinpoint what his friend was looking at. Not seeing anything but a sea of people he gave up, now standing in front of Matt to try and get his attention.

“Sorry, um, yeah. I’m good.”

Matt made a point to keep his eye on you, hoping he’d have another chance to make up for his clumsiness. To get your name and drink order, perhaps even your number. But as he saw you and your friends heading for the door, he knew that window of opportunity was closing.

“Ty, let’s head out, yeah?”

Ty didn’t bother questioning Matt, assuming he’d grown tired of the bar they were at and wanted to make the rounds. Matt’s strides were swift as he maneuvered through the crowd of fairgoers, Ty having to rush to keep up. Unsure as to why Matt was in such a hurry, with it only being eight o’clock and the fairgrounds open until at least one in the morning.

Suddenly Matt came to a halt, Ty finally catching up to him as he followed Matt’s eyes. Seeing you and your friends crowded around a carnival game that surely was rigged. The objective? Knock down the milk bottles without them falling off the pedestal, practically impossible.

“Ohhh, I see. You’ve got your eyes on a girl huh?”

Matt smiled, slightly embarrassed as he tried to shrug off his friend’s comment. Watching you point out a stuffed animal elephant holding a peanut that you so desperately wanted. The only way to win that prize was to be absolutely perfect in the game, but with several drinks in your system, Matt could tell by your first throw you weren’t leaving a winner.

“I spilled my drink on her Ty, I wanted to try and repay her, but she left the bar before I could.”

“Soooo you’re stalking her now to buy her a ‘sorry I’m a tall lanky clutz’ drink?”

Matt shot Ty a glare at his comments, leaning against a nearby building as he continued watching your failed attempts at winning your desired prize.

“Not stalking Ty, simply a man after something he wants. And I hate to say, I want her number. She’s beautiful.”

Ty flicked the brim of Matt’s cowboy hat, rolling his eyes as he found a spot against the wall to reluctantly join him. “Okay lover boy, so what’s your master plan to get her number? Star at her from afar all night and hope she notices your eyes burning a hole in the back of her head?”

You’d handed another ten dollars to the worker, getting another three chances at the prize you’d been listing over. A smile on Matt’s face as he watched your friends giving you a pep talk, laughing at how hard you were working for this prize. Though he admired your persistence for the plush that surely wasn’t worth the money.

“Well, that’s thirty bucks down the drain. I need another drink!”

Matt watched as you and your friends made your way across the path to a new bar, finding a place at the counter to order a round of drinks. Once the game had been available and reset, he walked up to the counter to take his chances. Ty rolled his eyes with a groan as he joined Matt at the booth, praying that he’d somehow get lucky and win so that the boys could get back to drinking.

“I do not come to the Stampede for carnival games dude, and you’re twenty-two years old by the way. Trying to win an stuffed animal elephant for a girl…who if I had to guess-”

Ty glanced back at you and your friends tossing back shots at the bar, turning back to Matt as he studied the baseballs to find the perfect one to throw.

“She’s definitely at least twenty-one, maybe if we are lucky she is older and can get you to act your age for once.”

“Newsflash Ty, she was just playing this same exact game so shut your goddamn mouth for five minutes so I can concentrate.”

Matt took a deep breath, stretching his arm a bit as if he was getting ready to pitch the final game of the World Series. Ty just shaking his head, praying that no one passing by was catching a glimpse at how embarrassing this scenario was becoming.

“Fuck!”

Matt’s first throw not even close to the tower of milk bottles, a soft chuckle coming from Ty as he tried not to add to his friend’s frustration. Simply giving him some halfhearted words of encouragement as Matt picked up his next baseball.

As you finished your second drink at the bar, you glanced out at the crowd passing by, a tall figure catching your eye at the booth of the game you’d just thrown thirty dollars at. Only for you to realize it was the culprit who had spilled your drink at the previous bar, mainly since he was the tallest man at Stampede and was too hot not to notice.

You watched as he handed over another bill to the worker as he was handed three more baseballs, his friend clearly fed up with having to watch the taller boy failing continuously at the game. Chuckling to yourself you’d ordered another round of drinks for your friends, keeping an eye on the two boys wondering how long they’d keep at it before calling it quits.

The next ten or so attempts continued similarly to the first, only getting slightly better as Matt had managed to knock over a maximum of two of the three milk bottles, though they’d not stayed on the table as was the point of the game. Ty had grown restless as he watched Matt reach in his pocket for another ten dollar bill, patting him on the shoulder as he decided to head over to the bar you were occupying and grab a drink.

“Hey! Is he having any luck over there?”

You smiled at Ty as he shook his head, throwing a shot back before he leaned against the bar to see Matt still trying his darndest to win you a prize.

“Well he’s doing it all for you, you know? He’s dropped like almost fifty bucks all to make up for your ten dollar drink he spilled on you back at the other bar.”

Your eyes went wide as you looked at Matt, seeing him hang his head as he’d thrown away another ten dollars in failed attempts. Needing to put a stop to things before he dropped a hundred dollars trying to win you a no more than fifteen dollar stuffed animal that you did not need in the slightest.

“Hey, cowboy.”

Matt turned to see you now next to him, a smile on his face as you were the last person he expected to see at his side.

“What the hell are you doing over here?”

“Isn’t it obvious, trying my luck at becoming an MLB pitcher.”

You laughed at his sarcasm, seeing a ten dollar bill in between his fingers and quickly reaching for it. Tucking it in the breast pocket of his jean jacket, leaving him with a confused look on his face.

“While I appreciate you embarrassing yourself at this carnival game that is surely rigged just to repay me for a drink…did you ever think of just buying me a drink?”

Matt scratched his head as he’d realized that would’ve been the logical thing to do, despite Ty telling him several times it had only gotten through to him coming from you.

“I mean, that would’ve been the more obvious route to take. But, I wanted to stand out I guess? Be different than just another guy offering you a drink?”

Nodding your head you smiled up at him, his smirk causing you to blush but luckily your cowboy hat hid your cheeks from him.

“And how did that go? Wanting to be different and all?”

“Wanting to be different ran me about fifty bucks.”

He awakedly rubbed his hands together, watching as you reached towards his pocket pulling the ten dollar bill from it and flashing it at him between two fingers.

“Well, lucky for you the drink I like will only cost you less than ten.”