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#but documents I gave them to hold on to are missing
bepoprotectionsquad · 2 years
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I enjoy the feeling of being gaslit by my case manager
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pastafossa · 1 year
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i hate tax season. that’s it, that’s the post
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togenabi · 8 months
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things I won't tell you
vinsmoke sanji (opla) x princess!reader
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♡—the new royal chef doesn't seem to recognize you without your crown. who's going to tell him? . . . certainly not you.
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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
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author's note♡— this is detached from any canon, its basically just a big chunk of sanji fluff. please enjoy!
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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.
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© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡
tags: @songsofadelaide-archive @amitydoodlez @sweetexistentialism @writingmysanity @hotchocolattee @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kenkenmaaa @ay0nha @watercolorskyy @holymusicalmothman @appalost
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author's note (yes, again)♡— sooo, what do we think about sworn knight!zoro x princess!reader ? 👀
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amourane · 1 month
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nightmares no more
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pairing: yoon jeonghan x reader
genre: fluff, ceo au
w/c: 0.8k
summary: everyone wants yoon jeonghan and you were lucky enough to score him.
warnings: none
a/n: this right here is my man, love of my life, aaaaa i love him so much, also disclaimer this post used to be under my old url httphannie <3
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It was already well past midnight and you were still sitting at your desk, paperwork laid out in front of you. To anyone it would look like an uncoordinated mess but you had everything in the right place. There were the legal documents that you were settling for the contract with another company and there were the marriage plans over there. Your bulletin board behind you was pinned with various arrays of dresses and contracts. 
You rubbed your eyes, tired from the work. If you went to sleep now you wouldn't have the preparations for tomorrow's meeting ready, not to mention you had to go see the venue for the wedding with Jeonghan. Your week had been busy and you hadn’t gotten a good night's sleep in what seemed like forever. 
Being the secretary of the CEO of the biggest company in the country and trying to balance planning your wedding was hard. You were constantly rushing everywhere; trying to get everything perfect. Not to mention the nightmares you had been getting. It was a big enough scandal when the press found out you were dating your boss but now they knew you were engaged to him. 
Yoon Jeonghan was one of the most sought out bachelors in the country and even when the both of you had announced your relationship, there were still some delusional girls who would try to hurt you. Every night you woke up in a cold sweat, the same image of not being able to breathe and hands grabbing you from every angle haunted your mind. That was partly the reason why you were still up working.
There was a knock on the door and Jeonghan popped his head around. “I thought I told you to take a break.” You rushed to him, embracing him tightly, inhaling his comforting scent. “I missed you too, my love.”
It was as if the barriers that were protecting you fell apart and you felt tears start rolling down your eyes. You couldn’t stop them from falling while you hiccuped continuously. Jeonghan hugged you tighter, running his fingers through your hair, untangling the kinks. 
“Why’re you crying? You're making your beautiful face look sad.” He pressed a kiss on your forehead as he stared at your glassy eyes. 
“I don’t know.” You sniffled. “It’s just that I’ve got the contracts to prepare and then we have the wedding, not to mention all the nightmares I’ve been having. I just feel like I can’t do anything, you’re the one handling all those people, Hannie.”
Your fiance frowned, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “That’s not true. Who’s been handling all these business papers, even though I told them not to worry, and who’s been holding this wedding on their shoulders?” Jeonghan smiles. “There’s so much light in you that it blinds me sometimes. You’re a wonderful person and I love you, so it doesn’t matter what people think. Much less people who don’t even know you.”
“Why are you like this?” Your cheeks were still stained with tears but your lips were curled into a small smile.
“Like what?” Jeonghan gave you a cheeky grin, he blinked innocently up at you. “I’m just telling the truth. You stole my heart the moment I saw you.” He gasped dramatically, clutching his chest, before giving you a wink.
You giggled, pulling him in for a kiss. It was sweet when your lips touched, both of you had been so busy that it had been so long since you shared such an intimate moment. His lips were warm and you couldn’t help but feel at ease when he was with you. 
Jeonghan picked you up suddenly which made you squeal. He didn’t let you say anything, carrying you out of your office and into your shared bedroom. He threw you down on the bed, arms pinning you both sides. A second of silence ticks by. You stared lovingly at your fiance before tugging him down onto you.
“Are you trying to seduce me, Yoon Jeonghan?” 
“And what if I am, Y/n? Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for my charms already.” His tongue flicked over his bottom lip. You didn’t get to reply before a yawn escaped your mouth, your cheeks flushed and you diverted your eyes. 
Jeonghan grinned and he leant down so his forehead was touching yours. He let out a light laugh. “Sleep, my love. I’ll keep the nightmares away.” 
You knew you didn’t have a choice by the way he was looking at you, it was the same way he’d stare down his partners to get a good deal out of them. Reluctantly, you nodded, letting him tuck you in and kiss you goodnight.
“Take two weeks off, the company can survive without you 24/7.” Jeonghan placed a finger against your lips, knowing you were going to start protesting. “That isn’t a question, you’re far too stressed, just let me handle things.”
“But Hannie-”
“No.” He placed his hand on your cheek, the warmth spreading through his palm and across your face. “From now on, you’re not allowed in that office, you leave all the work to me. I’m the CEO for a reason Y/n. Promise?”
You sighed, knowing it was no use to try and protest. “Promise.” 
Jeonghan smiled, placing a kiss on your cheek. “Sleep well, my love.”
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ncis-nerd · 2 months
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Natasha winking at you in a meeting
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grey november au
-You were new to the building. Steve hired you to listen in on their meetings and take notes.
-After one of many arguments of who said what, Steve finally caved. He agreed to get someone who they vetted well to keep track.
-Now it was quite obvious you were younger than the old agents but it didn't stop the Russian spy from stealing glances at you.
-You'd be in the kitchen making coffee and turn around to the red-head inches away from you.
-Startled, you jump, nearly clashing into her. "Sorry dear, didn't mean to scare ya" she hummed, catching you in her arms.
-"O-oh, it's okay Miss Romanov, I really should be getting back to my work." You rush out of the room. Why was she everywhere you went? You could swear she was following you. But she won't do that...Would she?
-Later that day, Steve called an emergency meeting. Something about their enemies plotting a heist and they needed to stop that.
-You took your usual spot next to Steve, across from Natasha. You put your computer down on the table.
-"Alright, now that we have everyone.." Steve babbled on. You were just focused on typing. Documenting everything that was said.
-Steve stops talking for a second. You look up, Steve says "We will have Nat go in, she is the best lookin and our only chance at distracting the guard."
-You looked at Nat with doe eyes. Could Steve really do this? Why was Nat always the one who had to do their dirty work? Seducing the gross older men.
-Nat met your eyes and gave you a wink. Upon seeing your frown, she gives you a comforting smile. But you go back to your duty of typing.
-After the meeting is over, everyone has left. Well, except you and Nat. You were still typing but you're about done now. As you're getting up to leave, Nat grabs your arm.
-"Wait." She said, looking at you. You turn around, confused because Miss Romanov never makes you stay back. Did you do something wrong?
-Nat could sense your anxiety and sees you fidgeting nervously with your hoodie string. "Don't worry. You're not in trouble hun. Just wanted to make sure you're okay. You seemed upset in the meeting?" Nat question.
-You sighed "Miss Roman-" "Call me Natasha" the spy cut you off. "Natasha, it's wrong for them to treat you like this. Like- like you're just a pretty woman they can use to distract creepy men who can't keep it in their pants." You pouted, holding her hand.
-"Pretty? You think I'm pretty hm?" She teased. You were still frowning. She sighed, realizing this is what was bothering you before.
- "Okay, detka. I'll be honest with you. In this field of work, unfortunately most people will want you on missions just because youre a woman. I do lose a bunch of opportunities because of my gender but if I can help the planet then I think it's worth it." she says in a more serious tone.
-Softening her gaze when you ask her why she doesn't just quit. "It's not that simple, love." She sighed, wiping a stray tear that escaped your eye.
-You don't register you're crying until the older woman pulls you in. Embracing her warmth, she holds you close and strokes your hair. She closes her eyes, trying to remember this moment.
-That you are real and you care about her.
A/N: new possible au?? what we thinking? want more of this storyline?
taglist: @ssa-shaylam @madamevirgo @radcherryblossompainter @midastouch013 @dumbasslesbi @krystallevine @ellieromanov @midastouch013
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aajjks · 1 year
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Needy (m)
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synopsis. you think he’s needy? He’ll show you just how needy he can be.
warnings. mature themes, kissing, extreme yandere behaviour, manipulation, cute koo, sexy times, sexual tension, marking, oh it’s hot, unhealthy dependance, triggering themes.
taglist: @lustfulpjm @bebejungkook @bunnysandsunflowers @livid-and-in-love @dimguin
disclaimer. This is purely fictional, viewer discretion is heavily advised. Do not romanticise this behaviour, strictly for entertainment purposes only!
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“Noona.”
His voice calls out, cutting off your thoughts as you felt his hand wrap around your body, his other hand snaking around your waist,
He nuzzled his face into your neck, the cold and wet feeling of his tongue on your neck always sent shivers down your spine, the way his warm breath fanned over your pulse point, making goosebumps appear on your skin.
You could never really get used to his touchy nature.
“Hi baby.” You replied, looking at the papers in your hand. “Noona…. What are you doing?” He whined,
“I’m just looking through some important documents from work.”
Jungkook hummed, rubbing his nose into your neck. “Woke up early today hmm?” You turned the page, sighing. “‘Was cold without you, noona.”
You gave the documents a double look and closed them once you were satisfied. It was cold, undoubtedly, Seoul could be ruthlessly cold in winter.
Jungkook turned your body so you could face him now.
“Noona, can you skip work today and spend more time with me? Please?” The man child pouted, his sleepy eyes looking at you with hope. You caressed his cheek, you wanted to spend time with him too,
well, you always tried your hardest to spend the majority of your free time with him, he was your responsibility after all.
But the thing with Jungkook was that he was kind of…. Needy.
He wanted your attention 24/7.
He didn’t care if you had to work, Jungkook didn’t understand the importance of earning money or having your own privacy.
“Baby I have an important meeting today, I’m sorry.” You watched his gaze turn somber, “I can’t miss it sweetheart.” You whispered in his ear, your fingers caressing his cheek.
“Why?” His eyes turned glossy as he blinked twice. Oh him and his fragile heart, you felt bad, and guilty.
“Baby… actually my boss is hosting a new years dinner party tonight too… so I can’t skip it, it is mandatory for all the senior employees to attend.”
Jungkook whimpered at the thought of being away from you for so many hours, his hands grabbed your waist again.
“N-Noona what about me?”
He stopped sniffling and stared at you with a strange look. “I-I’ll miss you noona! VERY MUCH!” He pulled you in for a hug.
You sighed, “baby you know I don’t like to leave you alone a lot too… but I don’t really have a choice?”
He didn’t reply, his eyes were now bloodshot as he cried. He pulled you in for a hug. Your heart melted immediately at his gesture,
Jungkook was finally starting to behave like himself. But you needed to warn him.
clicking your tongue while you embraced him you spoke, “I don’t want you to behave like before Jungkook I’m serious.” You patted his back.
“I’ll be back before you know it!” No use though. He didn’t stop sobbing, you were sure he whined under his breath.
Your little brat.
He was mumbling something but you couldn’t hear him clearly, “jungkook.” You called out, trying to get out of his grip but the bunny man tightened his hold on your body.
Wow. He was too strong.
“Okay kookie I’m starting to get annoyed, my coffee is getting cold and don’t you want breakfast?”
“Want noona!” You pushed his shoulders [well tried to.] so he’d loosen his grip but it wasn’t working.
“So…” now there was only one way to get him to leave you.
“You don’t want the pizza with extra crust?” His heavy breathing stopped for a moment, he broke the hug and looked directly into your eyes, the glossy pupils dilated at the mention of his favourite food.
Ha, he was easy.
“Noona you’re s-so evil!” His tail wiggled and his ears perked up, his expressions were betraying his body. “But… firstly, you’ll eat the porridge I made.”
“NO NOONA YOU ARE TOO EVIL!”
You rolled your eyes as you walked over the kitchen counter, a wicked smile on your lips.
“Learned from my evil bunny.” You blew a kiss, winking.
“Okay stop drooling Jungkook.”
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Jungkook watched you put on the black coat, his long hair almost falling over his eyes that were so focused on you, his eyes followed your every moment but he didn’t speak a word.
Just watched you quietly, his mouth open, his eyes turning hazy with your each moment, God, you looked so sexy.
The shade of that lipstick was perfect, it complimented your beautiful complexion so much,
your lips, Oh God, your lips.
“My noona is so pretty.” He breathed deeply, taking your attention, Jungkook’s heart fluttered when you smiled at him, he loved it so much when your eyes twinkled.
“Aww thanks Jungkook!”
He didn’t reply, too lost in your thoughts as he stalked towards you, “I really want to kiss you noona, can I?”
The room’s atmosphere shifted as he blurted that out, your hands stopped buttoning up the coat and he could tell the way your breath hitched.
“Please?” He stopped right before you, not waiting for your answer as he pushed your body towards his, your chest hitting his hard one as he inhaled your scent.
“So heavenly..” he whispered.
You were at a loss for words but didn’t stop him as he grabbed your face, bringing it closer to his.
Jungkook could feel your knees tremble as he refused to take his eyes away from your face, his lips now inches away from yours,
He was pulsing, he felt so hypnotised as his lips touched yours, his brain froze, his whole body felt like it was on fire.
He felt so hungry.
He swallowed your trembling breath as he kissed you like it was the last time he’d ever get to. Your hands grabbed his dark locks as his fingers traveled down towards your core, spreading your legs easily.
“Oh fuck!” He whimpered when you tucked at his hair.
God, he was sounding so sinful.
Jungkook could die while kissing you and he’d be so thankful, your lips were made for him.
So damn perfect.
He finally broke the kiss, his high getting intense as he kissed your neck, your heavy breathing making his legs feel like jelly.
His teeth were hot on your skin as he sucked on the spot that made your eyes roll back, he was eager to leave his marks on your neck so you couldn’t hide them even if you tried.
So everyone could know you belonged to him age him only,
“My noona. Only mine,” he growled possessively, you mewled out, unable to respond, Jungkook grabbed your hips as he settled your thighs on his waist,
“You can’t leave me, noona. I will make sure of that.”
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can we have more disowned!Jason pls??
Bruce was thankful for the drive. It gave him time to think. Mostly of things to say.
He'd sent a new washer and dryer, only to have them politely but firmly refused. Not by Jason, which he expected, but by you. You explained that it was appreciated but not necessary. And then before hanging up the phone, suggested that he donate the money to a support group for estranged parents. Electronics for the kids were similarly received- albeit less politely by Jason. Jason outright sent them back in pieces.
It was a risk, and he knew that. But by the time he pulled into town and was driving down tree-lined streets he was resolved. He had grandchildren now. He had a son who was happy. A Daughter in law... It was- well. Not a 'normal' family but, why did that matter?
There was a new baby on the way. Surely you had to need something to make it easier? College funds? Was the house paid for? He went through the options over and over. Considering the things he knew from the court documents. How you'd come to have your niece and nephew in your custody. The long sad story that got there.
You were steadfast and compassionate- that he knew. And proud. An offer that felt like charity would be rejected. Because you were doing it- or had been doing it on your own. Caring for your grandmother and then your mother. Fighting with the courts. Running a business. And raising two kids. You didn't want charity.
He pulled up on the curb and checked his watch, frowning. Both cars were still in the drive. Which was odd. Dick had told him you usually took the kids to school and opened the store.
He walked up the front steps and rang the bell. Greeted by the cacophony of dogs barking and Jason grumbling as he lumbered to the door.
Jason rolled his eyes when he saw Bruce at the door. "Not now-"
"I come in peace," Bruce said holding up his hands.
"Now's not a good time," Jason said, picking up the Yorkie before she could bolt out the door.
"What happened?" Bruce asked, heart dropping. Jason looked tense. Stressed. Upset. "Are the kids-"
"There was a break in at the hardware. Y/N was working late doing the books. Local scumbags busted in looking for tools they could sell. And copper. They didn't know she was there, so when she walked out to see what was happening, they panicked. Busted her in the face a couple times and someone kicked her stomach." Jason exhaled slowly. "Boris got to them and scared them off when he heard her struggling. And then. Fuck. As if it wasn't bad enough, his fucking heart just gave out and her dog died."
"Jason-"
"Now is really not a good time," Jason repeated, swallowing hard.
And all Bruce can do is hug him. Hard. Jason never did do well when women were in danger. When they were attacked like that. And now it was one of HIS women. His wife. The mother of his children. And she hadn't been able to call him for help. "Is... everything okay?" he asked, releasing him when Jason started to pull away.
"They kept her in the hospital for a couple days and they want to keep her on bed rest for a while. They were worried about her back and her ribs. And the stress of it all. But- mostly she just... she's worried about the baby. She's worried about the kids. And she misses Borris."
"A good boy-"
"Her best friend," Jason said, smiling a little. "And then he had to go and prove he really did love her more than me... grumpy old fucker."
"I know it's not a good time," Bruce said, not wanting to add more stress to his son. Or risk upsetting you and making it worse for you. "But if you need anything-"
"Just make sure those scumbags stay in jail," Jason said. "Because if I get my hands on them, I'll break their fucking necks."
"At least you aren't going to shoot-"
"Y/N makes me store my guns and my ammo in two separate places," he sighed. "And she moved it after Ty found it- now I don't know where it is."
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10.2 Bucky
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Bucky invading privacy and getting the wrong idea, then not letting Major get a word in edgewise.
Word Count: 1.4k
Previously On...: You thought the envelope may have come from Rand, but after talking to him, you're pretty sure he didn't send it.
A/N: Sorry for the delay-- was running errands and thought I would be back in time, but then I got held up at a train crossing :P
If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
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He was about fifteen minutes early to pick up Major, but if he was being honest with himself, he couldn’t wait to see her again. He missed her every second he wasn’t near her, talking to her, holding her, just being in her presence. He was down bad for the girl, that was for sure, and he was going to take every extra minute he could get with her.
Opening the main door, he walked into the lobby and waved to Zadie as she was having a group of teenagers sign a waiver before arranging to have them go to a room. 
“Hey, Sergeant Barnes!” she called out to him. “Major’s back in her office if you wanted to go surprise her. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind the interruption.” Zadie waggled her eyebrows at the implication, and Bucky stifled a laugh as he made his way back toward the door she’d pointed to.
The door to Major’s office was partially closed, and Bucky knocked, the force of it pushing the door open to reveal the empty office. Bucky stepped inside and, seeing her purse on the edge of her desk, assumed she must have stepped out to use the restroom; he was fifteen minutes early in coming to pick her up, after all. She would have thought she had time.
He used the opportunity to take in her space, the sophisticated office furniture colored in deep, earthy tones that gave Bucky a feeling of calm, similar to what he felt in her presence. He admired some framed medals on the wall from her time in the military, as well as some certificates of accomplishment, and he was pleased to see the orchid he’d bought her resting in a place of pride by the window. 
He ran his fingers over the fuchsia petals, smiling to himself before turning toward her desk.
That was when he saw it. The envelope that had Major so worked up earlier in the day, her name and The WarZone’s Midtown address written in blocky, all caps. He took a step toward it, hand outstretched, but then pulled himself back. No, he thought. He wasn’t going to go through her private work documents. It was none of his business, really.
But… she had been so upset earlier. Maybe there was something he could do to help. He could just take a quick peak; that would totally be fine. He tilted the envelope and a stack of documents and photos came pouring out onto Major’s desk. At first, he couldn’t make sense of what he was looking at, as if the input from his eyes wasn’t making its way to his brain. 
Every piece of paper that had come out of the envelope was about… him. He found himself flipping through the pages, barely allowing the contents to register. They were all photos of him, back when he was still the Asset, committing horrendous crimes. Each document was a report of something he’d done, a person he’d killed. As he flipped through them, his stomach fell through the floor, shame heating his face. Why did she have these? How did she get them?
Had she been looking into him? When she had told him, during their first date, that she would wait for him to tell her about his past when he was ready, had that all been a lie? But why? What would she have to gain from it?
He heard footsteps approaching and in seconds, Major was walking through the door of her office.
“Hey, you!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up in happiness when she saw him standing there. “You’re early! I hope you weren’t waiting too long on me. Just wanted to freshen my face before dinner tonight.” She walked around to where he was standing and draped her arms around his neck, leaning up to kiss him, but Bucky stood still, only turning his face from hers.
She pulled away from him, her expression concerned. “Bucky, what’s wrong?” 
Without thought, his eyes darted to where the documents and photos lay spread haphazardly across her desk. He watched her gaze turn to follow his line of sight, and he saw her posture seem to deflate. 
“Oh,” she breathed out. “Oh, Bucky, honey– I really didn’t want you to see those.”
“I’m sure,” he spat, and was rewarded when she pulled back from him in surprise. “Wouldn’t do you any good if I knew you were digging into my past, would it? Much better to keep me in the dark about it, right?”
“Bucky, what–” she began, but he interrupted her:
“Was all that talk about wanting to wait until I was comfortable with telling you about my past just a lie? Were you so goddamn curious, you couldn’t even wait to find all the gory details for yourself? You wanna know how many people I killed that didn’t make it into those files, because I promise you, sugar, there’s a hell of a lot. You want to know about the time Hydra sent me to kill an ambassador, told me to leave no witnesses, and I took out his wife and his two kids, too? ‘Cause they couldn’t have been more than ten years old. That kind of thing get you off, doll?”
She took a further step back from him, a look of disgust and confusion on her face, and Bucky suddenly didn’t want to deal with it. “You know what?” he said, stepping around her and walking to the door, “Fuck this.” He stormed out of her office and as he stomped through the lobby, he could hear Major calling after him, but he was beyond caring at this point. 
He slammed through the front doors of The WarZone and back onto the street. Hopping onto his bike, he threw on his helmet and kicked it into gear, speeding away from Major and his past as fast as he could.
He reached upstate in record time; he was fortunate he hadn’t gotten pulled over for speeding. He certainly wouldn’t have taken that very well. He stopped at an intersection– one direction would take him back to the Compound, but the other would lead him into town. He considered his options for a split second before making his decision.
A few minutes later, he was pulling up to the front of a modest, but charming farmhouse. His safe haven for when life at the Compound got to be too much for him to handle, and he needed some peace and quiet to just decompress and be himself. He definitely needed that right now.
Bucky walked up the front path and onto the well-tended porch before giving the front door a series of strong knocks. Stepping back, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacked and waited, his eyes resting on the porch swing he had helped build two summers ago. He should probably check the chain to make sure it didn’t need to be oiled.
The door opened and there was Lily, a balm to his ragged psyche. 
“Jamie,” she breathed, obviously surprised to see him. “What are you doing here? I thought you had dinner plans with Nat’s friend.”
Bucky grunted and poked the toe of his boot at a floor board that stuck out a little higher than its neighbor. “Don’t really want to talk about her right now, Lil,” he said. “Can I come in?”
Lily’s eyes widened as she stepped aside, making room for him to enter. “Yeah, of course. Um, I was just thinking of ordering some takeout. Are you hungry? I could get some pizzas.”
“Yeah,” Bucky said as he followed Lily into her kitchen, “that sounds good.” He took off his jacket and draped it over the back of one of her kitchen chairs. “Let me pay this time, though, okay? Since you’ll have to order an entire second pizza just for me.”
Lily smiled at him softly as she picked up her phone and navigated to the delivery app. “Obviously,” she told him with a hint of teasing in her voice. “Ham and pineapple on one, pepperoni on the other?” 
Bucky sat down and stretched his arms over his head. “It’s like you read my mind.”
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freakywrites · 2 months
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Kiss me in spring
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Arlecchino x fem secretary reader
Summary : Arlecchino gets quite jealous and one ups her "competition"
♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎
"Sorry I'm late, Miss Arlecchino!" You said opening the door to her office, the comforting smell of ink hit your nose with a hint of her perfume making your chest warm, forgetting about the bouquet in your hands. Arlecchino didn’t look up from her papers til she placed one to a neat pile of finished documents. "Good morning, it's quite alright - may i ask who are those for?" Her x pupils look at the flowers in your hands, her heart beating faster are those for her?
"These? A fellow employee gave them to me. " You said, walking to her desk to show her the small bouquet. The gray-haired womens heart dropped, and a blooming annoyance began to follow. "Aren't they pretty? I couldn't deny them." You spoke quietly, your fingers gently touching at the petals. Arlecchino stared at them, brows furrow a bit before she spoke. "What a shame they don't seem to be ones you like. it seems they need to try harder." She turned to her desk, and you pout. "It's the thought that counts, Miss Arlecchino.. I just think it's sweet - I mean, nobody gets flowers anymore." The gray-haired woman hummed irritation starting to boil almost to the brim but she wasn't mad at least she doesn't think so but uneasy annoyed she felt like she wants a small chat with that bold person who gifted you that sad excuse of a gift.
She stamped a blue folder tapping it on the desk to straighten the papers before stacking them together, turning to you. "Well, if I give you these folders and you send them to their correct addresses, I'll fill your whole living room with flowers that it'll look like spring." She said, placing the folders in your open hands. You smiled and nodded, gently grabbing the papers, running off to do your task.
Later in the afternoon
"All done, Miss! Did I do well? Will you praise me?" You said jokingly standing in front of your employers desk, who stared up at you from her desk. "Yes, good job." She said bluntly, and you nodded your head. "As for my promise." She said, getting up and walking to your side, lending her arm for you to hold. "I'll take you to your house.” You raise a brow. "Promise?...wait, I thought you were joking!" You laugh, taking her arm, and she tilted her head. "Why would I joke about that?" And you giggle."I guess you are a woman of your word one moment- How do you know where I live?" You question, and she just looked away. "I have connections, now let's get you home." She said, walking you out of office.
You arrived at your house to find it unlocked. You scrunched your face in confusion. "I swear I locked it," you mumbled, "You did." Arlecchino said, pushing the door open and the sweet scent of flowers bloomed out of the house and your eyes go wide as you see flowers on flowers all of different colors all spread across your small living room and in the middle of it all your coffee table had a bouquets of your favorites. Cupping your mouth, your eyes watered at the grand gift.
"Do you like it?" You hear her gentle voice as she hunches over your shoulder, and with a smile, you turn to hug her. Arms wrapping around her neck. "Oh, Arlecchino, I love it! it's beautiful," you said, rubbing your face against her. the gray-haired woman was stiff for a bit hands twitch as the hover over your back before hugging you even more deeply. For some reason, she feels as if a craving she has had has now been fulfilled a itch she could now scratche and a thirst that is now quenched just by having you in her arms.
"I'm glad you love it," she said, pulling away to look at your eyes, scanning your face, and you blush "can I- may I kiss you" you spoke your heart raced and Arlecchinos eyes grow wide before smiling "I yearn for it" she replied and with a nervous sigh you kissed her sweetly and she kissed back with greater yet gentle passion.
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A/N
why am I giggling and kicking my feet (*/∀\*)
Ngl I'm obsessed with Arlecchino that I was yapping about her so much my siblings kept calling be a lesbian but IDC SHE IS MY HUSBAND HVUGTVYBTFTVBYBYVRVT
I love her more then any other character rn she has me in a choke hold fr
Anyway love yall XOXO 💋💋💋💕💕
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katareyoudrilling · 1 month
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Evidence ✂️ (Tim Rockford One-shot)
Pairing: Tim Rockford x Female Reader
Summary: Tim knows a lot about vasectomies
Word count: ~1.8k
Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)
Content Warnings: Vasectomy kink (aka the opposite of breeding kink), unprotected PIV, vague detective work (don’t worry about it), destruction of important documents?
A/N: It has been a while since I wrote one of these! Big thanks to @veryprairieberry for sparking the idea and for patience while I pondered it for a very long time.  Also, thanks to @burntheedges for the beta and assuring me I was not crazy lol.  All my vasectomy kinks are marked with “✂️” and linked on my new Vasectomy Kink Masterlist!
Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!
Vasectomy Kink Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Taglist – link in my bio or ask me to add you!
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“Think,” Tim admonishes himself, staring at the board filled with crime scene photographs and bits of evidence.  “What are we missing?”
“We’ve been staring at it for days.” You pull at your neck, trying to relieve the tension, a habit you likely picked up from your partner.  Sharing an office with someone will do that.  You sigh and sit down at your desk, leafing through pages of witness testimony you’ve gone over a hundred times already.  “Maybe we should call it a night.  Look again in the morning?”
A knock at the door interrupts you. “Excuse me, detectives, the medical records you requested arrived. Thought I’d drop them off on my way out.” A lackey from the records office holds out a manilla envelope in Tim’s direction.
“Thanks,” Tim stands up from the chair he had been straddling and takes the envelope.  He pulls out the stack of papers and begins to scan them one by one.
“I don’t know what you expect to find in there.” Your frustration over this case has made you pessimistic.
“You never know,” Tim mumbles under his breath as he continues reading page after page.  You go back to your testimony, looking for anything you could have missed.  Apparently, you’re not done for the evening.
“Got it!” Tim exclaims making his way over to you and dropping the stack of papers on top of your desk with a thud.
You read the top page.  “He had a vasectomy?”
“He had a vasectomy,” Tim repeats back to you.  “Five years ago.  He isn’t the father.”
“You don’t know that.  Vasectomies fail.” It’s compelling, but not the slam dunk Tim seems to think.
“No, they don’t, not if…” He shuffles through the papers some more.  “There,” he points to a test result a few pages later, “he gave a follow up sample and no sperm was detected.  The chance of a vasectomy failing after that point is basically zero. Men just say that to get out of having it done.”
“How do you know so much about vasectomies?”
“Well, I had one.”
“You did?”
“Yeah, long time ago,” he says distractedly as he makes his way back to the board of evidence, rearranging things in light of this new discovery.  He picks up his mug of, what has to be by now, very cold coffee and takes a sip.
You, on the other hand, are frozen at your desk.  Tim had a vasectomy?  Tim is shooting blanks?
This information is eliciting a strong reaction in your body.
It’s swooping through your gut.
It’s making your palms sweat and your skin prickle.
It’s…
Rage.
Burning rage floods your system, heating your skin and making your heart pound.
“You had a vasectomy?” you ask him again, trying to keep your tone even.
“Yeah, are you… angry?” Tim turns to face you, looking confused.  Maybe your voice wasn’t as neutral as you hoped.
“I’ll be asking the questions, Detective Rockford.”  You push back from your desk and stand up slowly. You take a deep breath in and exhale through your nose, keeping your voice deadly calm, as if you’re interrogating a suspect. His forehead creases in confusion, but he waits for you to speak. “When did you have it done?”
“Twelve years ago now, I guess.”
“Why?”
“I decided kids weren’t something I was interested in, seemed like the right thing to do.”
“I see,” you pace across the room, tapping your finger to your lips, rage still simmering below the surface of your skin.
His eyes follow you as you go.
“You made this decision on your own?”
“Well, yeah.  I wasn’t in a relationship at the time. I don’t und….” You hold up a finger to silence him mid-sentence.
“You found the doctor, scheduled it, all of that?”
“Of course.”
“So, you are telling me…” You turn to face him as he takes another sip of his coffee, “that I could have had you bare these past six months?”
Tim chokes.
When he finally stops coughing, he wipes his hand across his mouth.  “Is that why you’re upset?”
“Yes! We’ve been using condoms when we didn’t need to!”
“There are other reasons to wear a condom.”
“Do I need to be worried about any of those reasons with you?”
“Well, no.”
“You don’t need to be worried about them with me either.”
“I never thought I did.”
“You’re so fucking responsible.”  The words come out angry, but there’s a new heat growing in your core. Responsibility is fucking hot.
“I’m… sorry?” Tim apologizes as you make your way to the office door and lock it.
“You should be sorry.”  You stalk towards him until you’re close enough to grab him by the holsters.  You watch as his adam’s apple bobs in his throat.  You pull yourself flush with his front, noting the bulge pressing against your thigh.
“How can I make it up to you?” he rasps.
“Fuck me on your desk, Detective.  Bare.”
“You’re so fucking sexy when you’re angry,” he growls, pulling you into a searing kiss.  His tongue invades your mouth as you both scramble with belts, buttons, and clasps.  You’ve come to love the taste of bitter coffee and Chinese takeout on Tim’s tongue.  Tastes you will forever associate with him as it’s never been very long since he’s had either.
Your clothes come off quickly in between frantic kisses, but you stop him as he moves to remove his shirt and holsters. “Don’t… I need something to hold on to.”
“Fuck, baby, when you say things like that…” his fingers dig into your bare hips as you set your ass at the edge of the desk and lean back on your elbows, opening yourself up for him with a smirk.  
Tim’s cock bobs eagerly in front of you, framed by his open shirt.  He takes it in his hand, stroking slowly up and down the thick length.
Pages of documents crinkle underneath you, but you can’t care.  Right now, all that matters is the beautiful man looking down at you with lust blown eyes.
“I want your cock, Tim. Now.”
He steps into the space between your open legs, cock in hand, and guides the tip through your wet pussy.  You both groan as he nudges at your clit and drags back through your folds.
“So wet,” he whispers, reverently.  He repeats his path several times, coating his cock in your slick before notching the head at your entrance.  “You sure you don’t want my fingers first?”
You vehemently shake your head and bite your lip as you look down between your legs.  He nudges at your entrance gently and you whimper.
“I know baby, I know,” he soothes you, and probably himself, from how completely wrecked he looks – slack jawed and panting.  With a guttural groan, he breaches your entrance.
You both watch as his bare length disappears into your wet heat.
“Oh god, fuck,” your eyes roll back in your head as he enters you slowly, stretching your sensitive pussy around his cock, working his way in inch by inch.  You feel the thick ridge of his head drag along your walls as your body gives way.  Without any barrier between you, the sensation is divine.
“Fuck, baby,” Tim breathes as he bottoms out inside you.  “I need a second.  You feel so good.”  He closes his eyes, overcome with the feeling of you. His hands flex against your bare thighs as he takes deep, centering breaths. 
After a few moments, he opens his eyes, locking his gaze with yours and, slowly, starts to move.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you whine with each slow thrust and drag of his cock.  Sex with Tim has been good, great even, but this… this is heaven.  You glance down to watch his clock slide in and out of you.  The sight of him veiny and glistening is almost too much to bear.  Your pussy begins to flutter.
Tim leans over you, pressing your knees into your chest. “Fuck, you’re amazing.  So wet and hot and tight. It’s been…. oh god… so long…”
The new angle hits just right and you can feel your orgasm building.  
“Yes, just like that,” you throw your head back.  “Fuck, your cock feels good.”
Tim licks his thumb and finds your clit between your bodies, speeding up your impending release.
“Are you going to come on my cock, baby?”
“Oh god, yes, please,” you beg, feeling the telltale pressure deep in your core.
“You have to be quiet for me,” he rumbles under his breath.  You’re not new to sneaking around at work, but until now you had saved the fucking for outside the office.  “Look at us,” he murmurs, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts.
You look down and gasp at the sight of his thick cock entering your pussy. The last of your control snaps and you’re pulsing around him as you try not to scream his name and announce your relationship to the entire precinct.
When you come back to yourself, Tim is still slowly dragging himself through your sensitive walls, nostrils flared, clearly fighting to delay his own release.
Aftershocks zing through your body and you clench around him.
He hisses and pauses, “Baby, if you squeeze me like that, I’m going to come.”
You smile to yourself as he picks up his rhythm again, then squeeze as he pulls most of the way out.
He gasps and pulls out the rest of the way, pressing a kiss to your knee and laughing, “You have to stop that.”
“What if I don’t want to stop that?”  You reach between your legs with one arm and grab his holster, pulling him to you for a sloppy kiss.  “I want you to come.  Fill me up, Detective.”
Tim practically growls as he lines himself back up with your entrance and slides in fast and deep.  You bring your other hand up to grab the holster on the other side, balancing on your ass and holding on for dear life as he thrusts into you.  His strong arms cage you in and support you as he pants into your neck.
“You feel so good, what was I thinking not fucking you bare this whole time? Oh god… oh fuck…” he stutters as he empties himself inside you.
You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, nuzzling into his neck and his scruff as he catches his breath.
“Who would have thought… responsible Detective Rockford fucking in his office.”
Tim chuckles into your shoulder. “Can’t be responsible all the time.”
You smile and pull his lips to yours for a soft kiss.  “Let’s get out of here.”  You peel your ass off the papers on the desk and turn to survey the crinkled mess you’ve left behind.  “That’s going to be a problem.”
Tim wraps his arms around your waist and kisses your shoulder, “Eh, I’ll just spill some coffee on it, no one will know the difference.”
You laugh, “Tim Rockford, you are just full of surprises.”
- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Vasectomy Kink Masterlist
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ferrarrigirl · 9 months
Note
could you do a fic where carlos has children and it just tonnes of fluff? thxxxx
A/N: AHH ty for my first request. I hope you like it xxx Also ignore the pictures idk why they are coming up in a weird order :(
Also Check out my poll for favorite kiddie from the fic
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BANG. You jump out of bed hearing something smash out in the kitchen. Immediately you turn to the side, seeing Carlos fast asleep beside you. He must have gotten in late last night and snuck in without waking you. You told him he should stay in Singapore and celebrate the win with the team, but he wanted to be at home with you and the kids. You rush to put your slippers on and move towards to where you heard the loud noise from. Peeking into the kitchen you see your oldest daughter holding a broom while your boy sits on the kitchen stool watching Elena with a guilty face. You step into the kitchen, catching Elena’s attention.
“Oh no, sorry Mama, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“That’s okay amor,” you reply moving to Mateo and kissing his cheek, “but what are you doing up? You should’ve woke me if you were hungry, I could’ve made you something.”
“We saw Papa’s car in the driveway and wanted to surprise him for winning,” Mateo says looking up at you with the same big brown doe eyes his Papa has. You can’t help but break out into a grin, these kids really were the best.
“Well we would’ve been able to surprise you too if Mateo didn’t go and smash the bowl on the ground,” your daughter spills. You giggle lightly, she’s always been the feisty one.
You now move towards her, grabbing the broom from her hand “that’s okay bebe, I can help you both now and we can make Papa a nice big breakfast.” You split the kitchen; with you cooking the eggs and sausage, Elena on fruit cutting duty, and Mateo mixing the pancake batter, the only thing you were sure he wouldn’t mess up. God was that boy clumsy. Within 20 minutes, all 3 of you had the kitchen island filled with a gourmet breakfast buffet.
“Cmon you know the drill,” the kids groan knowing their mom has to take a picture to document this. They would look back and appreciate it you thought.
“Perfect” you say snapping a picture of them standing behind the plated goodies. “Okay you two go brush your teeth, I’ll wake Noah and Luna and then we can surprise Papa.”
As your oldest two kids scurry to their rooms, you head in the direction of your younger boy. You sit down on the bed next to him, “Morning Noah, time to wake up baby”, you say, lightly running your hand through his beautiful dark hair. The same brown eyes flutter open and close as he cuddles into his stuffed Lightning Mcqueen. Ever since Charles gave him that, they’ve been inseparable.
“Nooo still tired Mama.”
“Cmon, me Elena and Mateo already made breakfast and there’s pancakes for you,” you try bribing him. No reply. You try again, “Papa’s back.”
PAPA’S BACK?” He jumps out of bed and ontop you.
“Shhh yes bubba but he’s sleeping,” you say rubbing his back, “So let’s go get you ready and then we can surprise him.” Happy with this plan, you get your third child into the bathroom and ready and bring him out to the kitchen so Elena can watch him. You sigh, only two more to wake up.
You head back to your bedroom, joining Carlos on his side of bed, you lean down and press a kiss to his cheek, “Good morning race winner.” He slowly opens his eyes giving you a lazy smile as he pulls you down into bed with him. 
“Morning carino, what are you doing up so early, come cuddle,” he says nuzzling his face into your neck, pressing light kisses along your shoulder. You lightly giggle while reminding him ‘Are you forgetting the house full of kids we have?”
You feel his smile grow against your shoulder, “I could never,” he jokes back, “I missed you guys so much.”
“We missed you more bub.”
You give yourself another 5 minutes to bask in his warmth while you can, just lying in his strong hold, feeling his hair tickle your ear. These are the moments you miss most every time he has to leave for a race weekend.
“Hmm, alright get up,” you peer over at the clock, “Luna’s gonna be up in 5 minutes, which gives you enough time to get ready, get her and meet me in the kitchen,” you say while pulling yourself out of bed. You drop another kiss to his cheek and as you walk out the door, you can’t help laugh while hearing Carlos groan and mutter “Yes ma’am.”
Back in the kitchen, Noah, Elena and Mateo all sit in the stools lining the island, waiting patiently for breakfast to be served. You’re surprised that they haven’t all rushed to Carlos in bed yet, they must really want to surprise him for the win.
“How long Mamaaaaaa, I’m hungryyyyyy,” Noah whines. There it is you think.
“Soon bubs, he’s just getting Lu.” Moving to the fridge, you grab Luna’s bottle, knowing she’ll be hungry the second she sees you and as you shut the fridge door, Carlos walks into the kitchen holding baby Luna.
“Surprise Papa!” Your kids yell running to Carlos engulfing him in a big family hug. You carefully grab Luna so he can give each of his babies a hug and kiss as they yell different congratulations his way.
He notices the breakfast feast behind them, “Did you guys make all this for me?”
“Si Papa,” says your eldest daughter with a proud grin.
Mirroring her smile, Carlos replies “Muchas gracias mi alma” and gives her another forehead kiss. You stand feeding Lu her bottle, just admiring the way Carlos helps each one plate their food and how the kids tell him everything they loved about the race.
“The DRS move to help uncle Lando was so good”
“You were going so fast”
“I felt bad for Uncle Cha”
“Was it hot”
“Is Uncle George okay”
“I knew you would win Papa”
That last one from Mateo has you tearing up (he’s always been his biggest fan), just seeing the beautiful family you’ve created and how happy the kids are. Carlos notices and comes your way, “Hermosa, why you getting all teary eyed on me hmm?” he says the same big brown doe eyes filled with concern.
“I’m just so proud of you and so happy that we could be celebrating together. Thank you for coming home,” you look up at him through your glossy eyes.
He wraps an arm around you, leans down and places a slow delicate kiss on your lips. Pulling back, he rests his forehead on yours and smiles, “Te amo carino, I’ll always come home to you.”
A/N: omg why did this turn out so adorable. I need Carlos in my life😭. Also please leave any suggestions/feedback on what you liked and didnt
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kamotecue · 8 months
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always lucky to have you ➹ l. oberdorf
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pairing: lena oberdorf x reader
summary: you were supposed to have lunch with your girlfriend, but you had an emergency case—so, she decides to visit.
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you sighed as you entered your private office, being the head prosecutor of the law firm was challenging especially with your young age.
you were quite knowledgeable, graduated from yale university when you were just 18. law school was quite a struggle, you were younger than your peers which made it quite easier for them to have you run their errands.
but you had graduated at the top of your batch, finishing as summa cum laude, the highest honor. rather than being a prosecutor in the states as you had dreamed of, you returned to germany—your home country.
you were feeling a bit home sick, being in a new environment can give you that feeling. but it was one of the best decisions that you had ever made.
because—that’s where you met lena, the one who holds your heart so dearly. you remember the first encounter, your childhood bestfriend klara had begged you to watch a football game.
bayern against wolfsburg, when the game had come to an end—you were simply waiting in the crowd. klara wanted to get signatures from the players, and that’s how you caught her eye.
you hummed a small tune, the drumming of your fingers were heard along with it. you had missed the lunch date that you had planned, it wasn’t your fault as there was an emergency case that you had to take on.
“geschäftig, wie immer liebe. [busy, as always love.]” you heard your lover’s voice as you turned to the door, only to see her looking at you with a soft smile.
she held certain things, as you stood up to help her—but she shrugged placing it on your table that didn’t have documents all over.
“lch verstehe, dass sie beschäftigt sind, also habe ich beschlossen, lhnen das mittagessen mitzubringen. [i understand that you’re busy, so i decided to bring you lunch.]” you had hummed as you gave her a soft smile, despite her busy schedule she still made time for you. you had always done the same, however this case was extremely important.
lena had properly looked at your attire, you were clad in the prosecutor gown, the black coat had matched it—but you wore a white tie. but her eyes were on the two rings that you wore, it was hers.
“gib es zu, liebe. [admit it, love.]” you heard lena teased, as you had opened the lunch box that she had prepared for you.
“was gibt es da zuzugeben, baby? [what’s there to admit, baby?]” you slightly teased, as lena felt a bit flustered—she always loved it when you called her that.
“du liebst die ringe, die ich trage. [you love the rings i wear.]” lena hummed as you softly nodded.
“that i do, now will you take a seat and join me love?” you chuckled as she took the seat in front of you, the whole lunch break—you both had talked about your careers.
lena had occasionally fed you as you did the same thing. despite her being the older one in the relationship, as you were just a month younger than her—she would always love it when you’d take care of her.
a perfectly paired match, as klara would say. when one goes, the other one follows. you both had a habit of being one step behind another.
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m00nsbaby · 11 months
Text
Already over.
Main Steven Grant x F! reader. ( + Marc Spector x F! Reader)
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Part 2. Sleepwalking.
Warnings & tags. ANGTS!! Cheating kinda but not really?, hurt, and all of thaaaat.
Word count. 3.4k
Summary.
We been talking for hours About how we shouldn't talk for hours on end. Kissing after a conversation About how we'd probably be better off as friends. Same time here next weekend Say, "We won't do this again" Make me fall where I stand Only like you can.
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It had been a while since Steven and you had accepted your positions in Marc's life. Both of you were external parts of something larger, like small protrusions on a road that led nowhere.
You decided to understand it when you realized the burden Marc had to carry. Khonshu had taken hold of his psyche and shattered it as he pleased, although he was aware of his dissociative identity disorder, he had started to lose control a long time ago and this resulted in Steven finding out in the worst possible way. It was as if life itself had decided to break him in every possible way.
Hadn't he suffered enough already? Steven and you weren't going to take away the last thing he had.
The love of his life. Layla El-Faouly.
You envied her in different ways. Living a life of adventures with the man of your dreams sounded like something out of a book. She was a strong woman and the first in Marc's life, and therefore also in Steven's, but if there was something that broke your heart in half, it was knowing that she was happy with him.
It would be a lie to say that you weren't happy with Steven. He gave you all of himself and loved you in a way he never tried to hide. But for years now, you had been the one picking up the pieces of two broken people and putting them back together. And then, there was Layla, who didn't even know about the existence of her husband's alter ego, enjoying the best part.
The carefree part that stood above all the atrocities of daily life, simply having a nice date or the official title of his wife, with a ring and legal documents.
"Do you miss working at the museum?" Steven's fingers traced your waistline, occasionally pausing to press on the moles peeking beneath the fabric of your short shirt.
"You have no idea how much." You could never tell him how much you appreciated that he didn't lie to you. You knew he comforted Marc by telling him that life was perfect just the way it was.
You were face to face. You admired Steven's face in front of you.
Anyone would think that once the issue of his fake sleep disorder was cleared up, he would look less tired. Although there were still hundreds of nocturnal missions, and Khonshu destroyed the mercenary's body until an exhaustion beyond description, now Steven could sleep a few more hours, the ones where he used to force himself to read until the letters danced before him.
Nothing had changed at all. In fact, you could swear that the dark circles under his eyes were becoming more noticeable.
"I love you, Steven." You said suddenly, resting a hand on his cheek. His skin had always been so soft and delightfully warm.
You brought a smile to his face, the one that momentarily makes you forget that both of you feel that time is running out.
The one that makes you forget the slight resentment you have towards Marc.
"I love you…" He whispered before leaning forward, just enough to brush his lips against yours, a gentle touch as his hand rested on your waist, and his thumb traced circles on your bare skin.
He wasn't lying; Steven never lied.
You spent the rest of the afternoon kissing and chatting about what had happened during the week you couldn't see each other. You asked about Layla as you always did, he shrugged, and you wondered if he felt the same resentment towards her that you felt towards Marc.
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"The idea of vegan hot wings is stupid," you laughed as you bit into the vegetable in your hand, the one that was trying to deceive you and pass for something else.
"The sauce tastes good!" Steven laughed with you, playfully pushing you with his shoulder. To hell with sitting face to face in restaurants; if your bodies weren't close enough, neither of you were comfortable.
"It's a fraud."
"It's delicious." Seeing you take another bite was enough to feel that he was right without you explicitly saying it.
"Do you want to come to my apartment later?" You sucked your thumb to clean the sauce from it. "Yesterday, I accidentally stumbled upon a garage sale and bought the dumbest movie I've ever seen, I got it for us. It's called Rubber, and it's about a homicidal car tire."
Under any other circumstances, Steven would have laughed with you, but he gave you that look that you already knew too well.
"I'm sorry, love." Suddenly, the fake wings didn't look so appetizing. "Marc is feeling better."
Ah. That.
That was the signal that he would be spending the night with Layla.
"That's fine." You nodded immediately, and you also felt disgusted with the food in your hand.
How much longer could you go on like this?
After a few seconds of silence, you cleared your throat. You had some time to come up with a change of conversation.
"What happened to your hand?" Your index finger touched Steven's injured knuckles.
"Marc didn't keep the suit on long enough; the larger wounds healed, but the rest didn't." He never lied, although this might be the exception. A minor injury to prevent a bigger one; he wouldn't ruin his life over a trivial matter.
You nodded slowly, planted a kiss on his shoulder, and continued with your attempt at a date, which was going perfectly until you remembered where you were standing.
The truth was that the night before, Steven had had a fight with Marc, one of those that hadn't happened since they threatened not to switch bodies back to each other.
"Are you two together, Steven?" He was about to explode, about to go crazy. This was the last thing he needed right now, adding more lies and involving more people. "I already told you, no!" Ever since you considered the possibility that Marc might find out, you had decided that if it was a panic situation, you would opt for the most efficient plan: Deny, deny, deny, deny. "Don't lie to me, not to me!" He never yelled; he was the calculating, quiet, and careful type, but even he had a breaking point, and if Steven was going to shout, then he would too. "Do you think I'm stupid, Steven?" It's funny because he hadn't had any doubts until a few weeks ago, so maybe he was a bit stupid, but he wouldn't say it out loud. "No, no, but…" "But?" "We're not together, Marc; she's my best friend." The second part was at least not a lie. He exhaled heavily and mentally thanked for being in front because dealing with anger, panic, and fear without having control over your body was a nightmare he had experienced before. Why did he ever buy so many mirrors? Marc's accusing gaze followed him around the apartment. "And you like her," Steven completed, another thing that wasn't a lie. "If I lose Layla because of you two, I swear I'll…" Adrenaline rushed through him; he lost control of his hand, which ended up against one of the mirrors, breaking it into a thousand pieces. "Marc!" The other didn't say anything, he watched from the reflection of some glass pieces as Steven's hand now bled, and tears filled his eyes. His body was used to large doses of pain, but emotionally, he wasn't used to seeing himself bleed or handling loud noises well. "We. Are. Not. Together." It was the last thing he said as he stretched his fingers and watched the blood flow between them. Marc was no longer in the reflection. He didn't want to object.
"Will I see you the day after tomorrow?" You could still see him tomorrow, but the idea of him coming to your place smelling of Layla's citrusy perfume always disgusted you. It was as if an extra day would be enough to erase any traces of her from his body.
"The day after tomorrow, without fail." Steven knew; he didn't question you. He placed a kiss on your forehead.
"I love you, Steven."
"I love you, sweetheart."
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Receiving calls or visits at midnight was always terrifying, especially when you knew your partner was constantly at risk, and this time was no exception.
The strong knocks on the door woke you up, and knowing it could be no one else but him, you opened the door without hesitation. Clad only in Steven's shirt that barely covered your thighs, with messy hair and half-closed eyes because the hallway light bothered you in the darkness.
Marc's tearful eyes met yours, along with the strong aroma of whiskey that Steven had told you about before, the one that stung his nose.
"Are you okay?" It was the first thing you said as he analyzed you from head to toe. He hated you, hated that you looked so good in the middle of the night, and hated that he felt a sense of ownership just from seeing you in a shirt that was originally his.
He didn't answer, he walked straight into your apartment, and you could only step aside to let him pass.
The way he walked past the sofas to sit on the floor was frightening; you had spent time with Marc during bad moments, but you had never seen him like this. You didn't say anything, didn't press, you just walked behind him and sat down beside him on the cold floor.
Your mere presence was enough for his eyes to fill with tears again.
"I didn't know where to go," he whispered, breaking your heart into a thousand pieces with just a few words.
"Oh, Marc." You knelt beside him to have better access to his body, and within seconds, you had your arms wrapped around him, holding him close. "I'm here, calm down."
You didn't get more words from him for a while, just sobs and those annoying chest contractions you get when you try to breathe through crying. You could even feel the fabric of your shirt damp at the shoulder level from his tears.
"I'm scared." His voice was broken, trembling.
"I'm here." You repeated as you held him tighter.
He didn't have the strength to tell you. He was afraid of you. Afraid of the dreams where he saw himself with you, afraid of the way his heart raced the few times you crossed paths, afraid of losing Layla because of his feelings, and afraid of change.
He was terrified of the mere idea of his life changing completely again.
You played with his curls and stayed on your knees until they hurt, with him in your arms whimpering like a little kid.
"Let's go to bed, Marc." He didn't resist, and you led him by the hand.
Nor did he object when you helped him get rid of his clothes just so he could sleep a little better. He almost felt guilty about how comfortable he seemed to be in your bed.
You hugged him from behind, your two hands resting on his chest where you could feel the beating of his heart and the rise and fall of his breath. Your cheek enjoyed the warmth of his back.
When you woke up, there were no traces of Marc anymore.
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"Meanwhile, Osiris' wife, Isis, searched tirelessly for his body and then…" The way you were looking at the ground while walking had caught Steven's attention for quite a while, but he didn't confirm his suspicions until he noticed you weren't participating in his narration as you always used to do. "Lovey?"
"Huh?"
"You seem distracted today."
"I'm sorry, I, it's just…" You cleared your throat while forcing a small smile on your face.
"Do you like it here?" He interrupted to finally point out an area in the park that seemed perfect for your plan. You immediately nodded with that fake smile, and both of you sat down carefully on the grass. You placed the book you had been carrying in one hand aside.
Steven handed you your ice cream and kept his own in the other hand.
"Can we talk?"
"Nothing good ever comes out of that, I've seen it in movies." Steven tried to joke, but hearing those words come out of your mouth made him sick to his stomach. Slowly, he rested his head on your lap.
Your hand, as if drawn by a magnet, went straight to his tousled curls. He closed his eyes and smiled; you had always compared that gesture to a puppy seeking more affection.
"We can't keep doing this to Marc, love." Your voice broke as you gave him those caresses he loved so much. "Nor to Layla, it's not fair to them."
Steven was looking at you again, with a terrified expression and a slight pout on his lips.
"And is it fair to us?" he snapped. Needless to say, both of you had long stopped paying attention to your sad ice creams; they were already melting into the grass.
"If Layla finds out, we'll ruin Marc's life." You tried to be the rational one between both of you, but with Steven's puppy eyes fixed on you, it was almost impossible to think clearly.
"And if we end… this, mine will be destroyed." Well, he had a point. "Please." His two hands went to your cheeks and pressed them gently, his forehead now resting against yours. "We can't. You can't." His lips claimed yours within seconds, and you could only respond as if life were slipping away.
Whom were you fooling? You were selfish enough to give in. After all, every night you created scenarios where Layla found out and left Marc, knowing that it would destroy him, but in your scenarios, you were there to comfort him, to prevent him from falling apart.
"I love you, Steven." You didn't get a response, but you didn't need to hear it; feeling the strength with which he held you was more than enough.
You were all he had, and he was all you had.
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Life was better when you both pretended to have a life that wasn't yours. When you fantasized and made plans for a future you would both do anything to have.
"What do you think of that one?" You both looked like kids with your foreheads pressed against the glass that separated you from the kittens.
"They say the orange ones are crazy, lovey." The fact that Steven was just as interested as you in this fed your good mood entirely. "How about that one?"
"I like his or her fur." You pressed your index finger against the glass to try to get the attention of the kitty that was completely distracted playing with another.
"Love, love, love." He nudged you with his shoulder, making you laugh, so you looked at the opposite side, another part of the store.
You gasped.
"THAT ONE?" You had to cover your mouth when the tone of your voice caught the attention of other people in the place.
There was only one cat in the area reserved for senior cats. You knew it was harder for them to get adopted compared to the kittens, it was as if he was destined to be there.
"It's just a baby." You pouted slightly as you pulled Steven's hand, both walking straight towards the spot where the little cat was staring at you.
He was white, although half of his body was covered in black spots, reminiscent of a cow's fur. When you got closer, you noticed that the tip of one of his ears was missing.
Love at first sight.
"Hiya, mate." The guy next to you was as enchanted as you with the animal. "Uhm, what do you say?" He tilted his head towards the glass. The meow completed his performance. "Look how curious, he says he's looking for new parents."
You laughed, genuine happiness coursing through you. You didn't give Steven time to react before jumping into his arms; he lifted you a few inches off the ground in the middle of the hug.
You didn't care about drawing attention. In fact, having witnesses to your love made it feel more real, reminding you that it wasn't just a product of your imagination.
After he kissed your lips, you could feel the ground under your feet again. You couldn't stop smiling.
"Come on, let's fill out the form." Steven's heart was about to burst with love at any moment.
The instructions were clear: fill out the corresponding paperwork, a few days of socialization with the cat to make sure he felt comfortable with you, and by the following week, he would be yours.
"We'll come to see you, okay? And then we'll go home."
"See ya, buddy." Steven said his goodbye too. "Next week, you'll have the best home, the comfiest bed, and the best parents, I promise."
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"What's wrong, Marc?" There was something scary about the idea of being alone with him without him being intoxicated or injured. You were taking off your scarf to leave it on a sofa while he watched you from his table, leaning against it with his arms crossed over his chest.
It was impossible to read his expression because Marc always seemed tense.
"She knows."
Your heart sank in seconds, and you looked at him in surprise.
"Ah?"
"She knows," he repeated. You swallowed hard, and for a moment, you thought this was one of those silly dreams that sometimes distorted your reality.
"Knows what?"
"Please, don't treat me like I'm stupid." His tone of voice was enough to make you tremble. You immediately looked at the bathroom mirror.
Steven had told you that while one had control of the body, the other could be reflected in different surfaces, but of course, that only worked between them. No matter how much you looked, hoping that Steven would appear to save you, it didn't happen.
You didn't even know if he was aware of what Marc was doing.
"I don't…" Your voice died down slowly, and you refused to get closer to him. "What does she know?"
"About you." He took a step closer, and you felt immobilized. "She thinks you're my lover, like any sane person, she knows nothing about Steven."
You swallowed the lump in your throat as tears filled your eyes.
"You have to tell her, Marc, explain to her she…" He interrupted you in seconds; the way he raised his voice made you flinch.
"'She will understand?' Is that what you want to say?" He was getting closer, and you felt like he was taking your breath away. Why were you suddenly so afraid? "Yes, I'll tell her every damn thing that's wrong with me so that you can be happy."
Ouch.
"I-I'm saying it for you, Marc." Tears were already streaming down your face, and you mentally cursed yourself for the mere idea of showing so much weakness. "She has to know, it's best for you." And it was, of course, but you were resorting to your last resort to not lose Steven too.
And maybe, not lose Marc either.
"You don't know what's best for me, you have no idea." His sarcasm cut deep as he took the last step to confront you.
"Please, please, don't do this." You pleaded through sobs; your hands ended up on his cheeks. "Please." You pulled him closer to you.
He seemed to relax under your touch, at least for a few seconds. Your heart stopped when one of his hands rested on your waist.
"Don't make this harder, you're killing me." He was also begging, even as his forehead pressed against yours.
"We can get through this, Marc." You sniffed. "I promise, we can…"
A kiss. A desperate and painful kiss silenced your words; it was the only one Marc and you would share.
"Go," he whispered against your lips, still planting small kisses on them. "Please, I beg you, go."
And that was the final nail to seal the coffin between you both.
His hand made you take a step back, a very gentle push.
"I'm choosing her." He knew you better than he'd like, knowing that you wouldn't stop insisting unless he caused you permanent harm. Besides, how could he convince himself he wasn't in love with you if he didn't do this?
You looked at him incredulously, not believing his act, but there was nothing else you could do.
This time, you begged that Steven was present to hear everything that had transpired between you both because you wouldn't have the strength to end it after this. In fact, you didn't even know if you'd have the strength to live without him.
You didn't say anything more, you didn't look back at him, and he didn't change his mind. You left his apartment, leaving your scarf on his sofa as a final reminder of your presence in his life.
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sorry, i got tired of happy endings
Part 2. Sleepwalking.
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wandaslullaby · 1 year
Text
Venomous Trap | Wanda M
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summary: wanda does something sinful to get you obey her
18+ DNI
a/n: hey! i'm back ish. i decided that i want to continue this series and voila, here is another little fic that gets the story going. hope you all like it and if you have any ideas or any drabbled about bunny and wanda, send me an ask :)
warnings: fingering, downgrading, humiliation kink, mommy kink
masterlist
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It was a dream. It had to be a dream. There was no way that you got inappropriate with a teacher. This wasn't like you but somehow your cunt was already leaking at the sight of Wanda’s tits. You’d never think a woman would have such beautiful breasts but, then again, you weren’t really sure of anything. 
Waking up that next morning to find a slightly alarming email that you are failing English got you shaken. You never failed a class, in fact, you were top of your classes and English was your strong suit. 
It didn’t make sense. 
Since you didn’t have classes until noon, you decided to go and speak to your councillor. Before you entered the office, you noticed Wanda leaning against the door. 
“Hello, bunny.” Wanda purred, staring at your legs. “Who are you showing off for?” 
You froze and felt the inside of your feet curl. Wanda was not only in your view but she purposely shoved her tits right near your face. Just a centimetre apart and Wanda’s hair tickling your nose, you immediately crossed your legs and looked away.
“Such a rude bunny. Not staring at your mummy’s tits.” Wanda whispered, kneeling down lower. “You weren’t as shy when you were latching onto them.”
You gulped when Wanda raised her voice, earning stares from other students. 
“Are you not going to say hello to them? They missed your lips, bunny.” Wanda cooed, as she latched onto a string of your hair. 
Your cheeks flushed and that gave Wanda the go ahead. She grabbed a hold of your jaw and purposely shoved your face into her chest. “Give them a quick kiss, before Mr Rogers sees what such whore you are.” 
You gave each tit a brisk kiss and Wanda let out a soft moan before she released you. After Wanda was finished playing with you, you heard the door open and Wanda returned back to her normal position. 
“Ms Maximoff. Ms Y/L/N. Join me in the office.” Mr Rogers spoke out, and you hurriedly entered and felt a sharp pain collide with your bottom. 
“Nice ass, bunny.” Wanda smirked and followed in after you.
As you both seated, Mr Rogers turned his hand to retrieve some documents giving Wanda the idea to pull the two chairs closer. 
“Don’t you dare make a sound or that pretty ass will be destroyed.” Wanda whispered, as she pinched your thigh. 
Mr Rogers turned back and sat down in his seat. He was completely oblivious to the two of you joint at the hip. Wanda was stunned as Mr Rogers couldn’t see the bottom half of both your bodies which gave Wanda a little idea of her own.
“As you can see from my email, I’m regretting going to say that you are failing Ms Maximoff class. I’m not sure if there’s anything going on but I’m concerned that you won’t be graduating this year.” 
Tears spilled in your eyes as Mr Rogers explained your test scores but a sudden shiver ran up your thigh. You quickly darted your head to your thighs and noticed that Wanda’s hand was up your skirt. 
Wanda didn’t even look over at you, but kept a stern face as she listened to Mr Rogers talk. You decided to remove her hand which earned a smack to your cunt causing a little whimper from your lips.
“Is everything okay?” Mr Rogers asked, slightly concerned at the fuss you were making in your seat. 
“Y-Yes. I’m just confused into w-why I’m failing?” You whispered, biting down on your bottom lip as Wanda rubbed her fingers on your panties. 
“It says here that you haven’t done any of your assignments or handed in any tests?” Mr Rogers frowned. “This is unexpected behaviour from you.”
You were trying to concentrate on the accusation of not handing in assignments but your brain shifted to a place full of stars as Wanda moved your panties to the side and teased your clit with her fingers. The words were stumbling out of your mouth as Wanda pressed harder onto your throbbing cunt and a little groan rolled off your tongue as Wanda slammed three fingers inside you. 
“I’m not sure what’s gotten into you but this is extremely important.” Mr Rogers frustratingly said. “I don’t appreciate you coming in here, and behaving like a child.” 
You crossed your legs but Wanda only went faster as you were itching out a sorry. “I don’t mean too. I’m just not understanding how I haven’t sent in my assignments? I turned them in.”
Wanda let out a little chuckle and drove her fingers deeper inside you. “I’m sorry about her, Steve. I didn’t know that I was teaching such a dumb baby. Is there a way we can turn this around?”
You tried to deny Wanda’s pleasure, grabbing hold of her wrist but your fingers weren’t nearly long to wrap them around her wrist. Wanda left Steve to fiddle around with the computer and took a quick glance at you.
You were drenched in sweat. The small trinkets of water falling from your eyes was such a pretty sight to Wanda, the Adeline inside her made her even hungrier for you. 
“Doing so well, bunny. Can’t believe how dirty you are? Letting me finger fuck you whilst the dean is here. Such a dirty, dirty slut.” Wanda hissed and began to use her thumb to rub onto your clit. 
You didn’t say a word, as you felt your legs shake at the momentum that Wanda was giving as she was so close to reaching that spot. Steve turned his attention back to the two of you and shook his head, “It says here that you haven’t submitted anything. The system is very accurate, Wanda’s ex-husband designed it.” 
As those words left Steve’s lips, you growled at Wanda but the moment she turned to look at you, you slouched into your chair as she hit your spot. You could feel your clit clenching around her fingers as she vigorously slammed her fingers inside you. 
“Is there a solution here? Is there a way this dumb baby can get her grades up?” Wanda spoke up, hitting your spot once more before a huge grin sprung on her face as she felt her fingers drown in your cum. 
“I think you might need to spend a lot of time with her, Wanda. Make sure she is with you at all times so she can improve her grades.” Steve blabbered on but you were so zoned out of the conversation, you let the tears spill out as Wanda rode your high. 
“Is she crying?” Steve asked as he turned his attention onto you.
“She’s just sensitive.” Wanda laughed and released her fingers from you. “Sometimes she just starts crying. I think it’s because she can’t formulate her words as much so she acts like this.”
Steve furrowed his eyebrows as you sat quietly, wiping your tears with your jumper. You felt so ashamed and humiliated that you didn’t even know what to say. 
“Pathetic, really.” Wanda started. “A grown woman behaving like a child. I think this orders some type of punishment?” 
Steve shrugged, “I leave her in your hands. I think from watching how you know Y/N so well, you would be the perfect person to help her with these grades.” 
Wanda nodded, “I believe so too. I will make sure each assignment is handed in and each test is 99%.” 
Steve nodded and let out an uncomfortable cough. “I think that’s all we have to discuss. Wanda, can you please make sure Y/N goes to the nurse to get an examination? She looks rather flustered.” 
“Of course.” Wanda chuckled. “She’s my responsibility now.”
Steve gave you an assuring smile before Wanda pulled you up from your chair as grinned at the trail of your own cum dripping down your leg. 
“Dirty, Dirty whore. You are partially dripping with your cum.” 
You lowered your head and tried to wipe it away but Wanda slapped your ass. “Don’t you even think about it. I want everyone to know what a disgusting whore you are.” 
“W-Why did you delete all my assignments? You knew I passed them all.” You sobbed, following Wanda to her car.
“How else am I going to make you mine, bunny? It was the only way to make sure that no one would question the after class hours and one to one session.”
“You could have just asked...” You said as she climbed into her car. 
“Where’s the fun in that, bunny?” Wanda laughed as she strapped you in her child safety belt.
You looked down at the extra protection Wanda has given you. “I’m not a baby.” 
Wanda only laughed at your answer. “Oh you stupid bunny. I’m going to make you one. By the time tomorrow rolls in, you will be back to square one where the only words you will ever say are, ‘Mommy’ ‘Please’ and ‘More’.” 
You didn’t even want to look at her. 
“Don’t worry, bunny. Mommy will take care of you.”
As Wanda’s words played on your mind, you slowly began to accept that this was life and the only way to survive it, is to live it.
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bts-princess7 · 17 days
Text
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No more - JJK x Reader
Summary: Jungkook wakes up with a lil surprise and you help him.
Warnings: overstimulation, smut, fluff, whiny jk, teasing, oral (m receiving). Lmk if I missed something!!
A/N: I didn’t proofread this and I gave up on the word count but it’s not too long, just a one shot 🤗🫶
“Are the reports done, sir?” Jungkooks assistant held an open folder, scanning his desk for the papers she requested. He let out a huff, digging through a pile of documents and handing them off to her reluctantly. Jungkook stood and stretched, back and neck cracking after sitting at a desk all day. “Any fun plans tonight, sir?”
His assistant looked up at him, batting her eyelashes. She’d been trying this since the day he took over, the old boss was kicking the bucket and everyone in the office was excited at the idea of a new young boss. Most of them gave up the minute they realized he was engaged, obviously disappointed. Not her though, she kept trying. “Just spending the night with my fiancé,” he answered her dully. She huffed and stormed out of his office.
He shrugged, glad to finally be left alone. He gathered up his phone and his gym bag, which he sued during his break, and locked up his office. He made his way to the car, sighing as soon as he closed the door. Finally, another end to a horrible day.
Jungkooks minds were filled with thoughts of you as he drove home, his body was completely at ease by the time he pulled into the driveway. His lips were pulled into a smiled when you came out of the front door to greet him, “Kook!” You exclaimed, running into his arms.
He stumbled back at your force and lifted you off the ground, “Hi baby,” he cooed, nuzzling his face into your neck. You smelt like fruit and flowers, it was your favourite perfume and knew he liked it.
“You smell like leather and sad coffee,” you giggled when he put you down, frowning a bit because the scent was sure to be stuck in his suit.
“This new office job is horribly depressing,” he yawned, forgetting to let go of you and keeping his arms around your waist until you pushed him off of you.
“Oh you poor thing,” you pouted, cupping his face in one hand gently. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, he got this job for you, to help support the both of you.
You were just as hard working, doing double shifts at the diner whenever you could to save up for your wedding. “It’s worth it,” he reassured you. You nodded and pulled your hand back.
“Come on inside, kookie. I made mac and cheese,” you lead him inside and grab two bowls. After you were done eating, you cleaned up while he was in the shower, putting the time at 10:30.
You were already in bed by the time Jungkook was done in the shower, his eyes were barely open as he made his way back into your room. He observed you sitting in one of his shirts, nothing but a black thong covering your lower half.
Your hair was straight and fell as perfectly as ever, he didn’t know how you always made your hair look good without doing anything. Everytime he looked at you he remembered why he’d accepted the gruelling work hours, because he wanted to tie the knot with you. He needed to.
“Come to bed, baby.” You told him, he pulled the drawstring of his sweats tighter, flipping off the light switch and hopping into the bed. You laughed at the impact and had to scoot back onto the mattress, Jungkook was already under the covers and had his arms open. You snuggled into him, his big arms coming down are pins you and holding you against his chest. “Goodnight, Koo.”
“Goodnight y/n,” he nuzzled his face into your neck, taking a deep breath before finally closing his eyes. Your scent flooding through his veins, it was the only thing on his mind. All the time, it was only you.
Your eyes, your smile, your lips, your body, the way you treated him and put up with his clingy behaviour. You were his whole world, everything he cared about, his main priority.
You shifted against him, throwing your leg over his and squeezing his waist, pushing a little groan out of him. Finally, he drifted off to sleep with thoughts of you. He slumped down in his sleep, cheek pressed against your breast, using it as a pillow.
Something was hurting, he didn’t know what but he knew that it was keeping him up. He opened his eyes, squinting at the clock, it was only 3:20. As he became more aware, he realized that the pain was coming from between his legs.
Jungkook let out a frustrated sigh, his hand made its way down his bare chest to his crotch. He let out a groan as he rubbed himself through his pants, biting his lip and looking in your direction. To his horror, he noticed that you were awake. “Need some help, kookie?”
“Yes, yes please.” He was desperate, you shifted to he was propped up on the pillows and you were between his legs. You were so beautiful, smiling up at him coyly, it was his favourite sight.
You leaned down and placed small pecks on his cock through his pants, feeling it twitch against your lips. He let out a moan, rolling his hips up towards you.
You continued to move your lips along the outline of his cock through his sweatpants, your saliva dampening the fabric and making him easier to see.
“Oh Koo, you’re so worked up.” You chided, squeezing him through his pants. His hips twitched, eyes wet and desperate at the sight of you.
“Y/n, baby please,” he groaned. You rolled your eyes, giving in and hooking your fingers in his sweats. He lifted his hips and you pulled them down, discarding them over the side of the bed.
His thick cock sprang out of his pants and slapped his toned stomach, making him let out a low moan. You gripped the base of his cock, thumb reaching up to rub under the mushroom head. “Yea baby, get your mouth on there,” his hand snaked around your head and pulled your hair back in a ponytail.
You licked a stripe up the bottom of his cock, tongue stopping to run the tip of it along his slit. “Oh fuck,” he moaned.
You made sure to look into his eyes when you opened your mouth and sank down on him, you knew he was vocal in bed and it was one of your favourite details. His hand gripped your hair tighter, forcing you down without much thought.
Your hands rested on his thighs, you let him control your movements. He was so lost in you, when his eyes weren’t closed they were on you. “You’re gorgeous,” he murmured. “So pretty, so pretty with my cock in your mouth. You like that don’t you? Does it taste good, baby?” He coaxed, you pulled off his cock, crawling up to him and pushing your tongue in his mouth.
His tongue rolled around yours, tasting himself on your tongue. “Taste so good,” you giggled, biting your lip. You planted kisses along his neck, making sure to suck in his skin and leave marks.
“That’s it baby, let that bitch know who I belong to,” he growled. His voice had gotten deeper, both from the sleep and the pleasure you provided for him. You made your way back down to his cock, a bead of pre cum gathering at his tip.
You licked it off before sinking your mouth down all the way, going as long as you could before having to come up for air.
His hand forced your head back down, you let out a moan around his cock, you loved it when he was rough. He worked you lower every so often until finally, he pushed you down so your nose was against his pelvis. “Holy fuck, baby.” He moaned, breath shaky and tongue toying with his lip wring. “Choke on my cock, baby, fuck!”
Each moan he let out was closer together, you could tell he was close. Every so often his cock would twitch in your mouth, the pitch of his moans getting higher each time one was let out. “So close baby, so fucking close.” He whined, feeling you hollow your cheeks around him. “Yes, yes!” His whines were so high pitched, like music to your ears.
His hand tightened around your hair as he came, his whines long and repetitive. You felt his cum filling up your mouth, the hot liquid shooting down your throat. “Fuck, baby.. your mouth is so good,” he moaned, taking deep breaths.
Jungkook let go of your hair, but you didn’t take your mouth away. He was confused as he felt you swallow, some of his release spilling out the sides of your mouth. “Y/n, what are you, oh-“ he moaned, unable to finish his sentence.
Slowly, he caught on to what you were trying. You were so skilled with your mouth and it was overstimulating him quickly. “So good, too god ughhh,” he whimpered. You pinned his hands at his side, his toes curling when you teased his head.
“Hmm,” you moaned around him. His hips bucked up into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat and triggering your gag reflex, which only made him more sensitive.
“I can’t, y/n please I can’t take it.” His moans turned to whimpers as you moved your head faster. You had to hold his hips down with your hands, but they still squirmed underneath you.
He was much stronger than you, there was no doubt that he could overpower you if he really wanted to. It could be because of the pleasure you caused him, or because he liked it. “Oh, oh fuck!”
His arms reached behind him and latched onto the headboard, his knees bent, and his thighs twitched on either side of your head.
You sank down all the way, his cock almost halfway down your throat. You looked up at his face, his fluffy brown hair was sweaty and stuck to his forehead, his eyes were either squinting down at you or completely pressed closed. His lips hung open slightly, sometimes his teeth would pull his bottom lips into his mouth, but now he was more focused on your movements.
“Baby please,” he begged, absolutely losing it when your hands came up to squeeze his balls. “You’re gonna make me cum, oh my god, so sensitive.”
This was exactly the reaction you wanted from him, your fiancé had been so uptight lately, so stressed. All you wanted to do was help him relax, help him feel good. Besides, it was empowering to see this big dominant man shiver under your touch.
Jungkook let out a lewd moan, his cock twitching furiously in your mouth. Without a word, he came in your mouth for the second time, his eyes wet and tears streaming down his cheeks. He was so beautiful, so ethereal.
You swallowed everything, coaxing him through his climax and took your mouth away from his cock with a pop. You crawled back up to him, taking him in your arms and letting him wrap his around your waist. “You’re so mean,” he breathed, looking at you with beautiful brown eyes that were illuminated by the moonlight.
“Sh, you know you liked it,” you tease. With a smirk, Jungkook mustered up any strength he had left and rolled over so he was laying on top of you, completely crushing you with his weight. “Jungkook!” You exclaimed, he moved off of you just a bit, majority of his body still on you.
“I did enjoy it, thanks honey.” He gave you a sweet kiss, the faint taste of him on your lips. You have him a small smile and nodded before finally going back to sleep.
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pandorasword · 6 months
Text
Chaeri as the 8th and youngest member of BTS.
CHAERI'S MASTERLIST
YOU CAME
❒ words: 619
❒ summary: The night before Jungkook's enlistment
❒ pairing: Jungkook x 8thmember!OC
❒ notes: find notes at the bottom
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December 11, 2023
A Fool
A fool to think she could be indifferent, a fool to think she could bear the separation, to say goodbye to him only in front of the cameras, to wish him to stay healthy and to take care of himself in front of everyone, Chaeri felt like an idiot. A fool to believe she could have stayed home the night before his departure.
Chaeri's AirPods were out of battery, and the volume on her cell phone was set to maximum, yet she didn't mind. She didn’t care that Jungkook's faint voice was echoing in the dim alley she was hurrying through, just having stepped out of the dark car that had hastily brought her to that point.
The pajama sweatpants she wore, not having had time to change into jeans, were lightweight. However, she remained unaffected by the biting winter wind, the weather gearing up for the first snow of that Christmas season. It would be the first snow she'd experience without her group, or rather, without her family, in 10 years.
The hoodie she had on was oversized, so much so that she had to repeatedly pull up the sleeves that kept sliding down her arms, extending to cover her hands, which made it challenging for her to hold the phone.
She knew the rest of the way by heart, so she allowed herself to stare at Jungkook's tired, sad face through the cell phone screen. 
He was giggling over a comment about the dryer being active just hours before he started his military career, but the laughter didn't genuinely reflect in his eyes
The boy she had grown up with, the one who slept in the bed next to hers when all eight of them shared a single room, her best friend, her first kiss, her first love—the boy who had strained his voice singing to her until her nightmares faded away.
Her family.
He was going to leave in a few hours, and she would see him again, God knew when.
She was stupid to think that she could stay at her place without feeling the need to look him in the eye to bid him farewell, without the pressure of pretending and calculating words, smiles, looks. 
"I'll miss you," Jungkook said, his voice soft, warm, almost hoarse. Chaeri knew him better than anyone else, knew for a fact that he would cry as soon as the live broadcast ended. And she had to be there. She owed it to him.
Despite all.
The janitor of the building where he lived recognized her right away; there was no need to show him documents or go through the necessary checks to ensure safety for the residents. She was grateful, as she was in such a hurry that she probably would not have stopped if he had tried.
She quickly made the decision to run up the stairs, two by two, as the elevator would be too slow, and she needed to reach there immediately. She felt the physical urgency.
The phone display went black; Jungkook had concluded the live, and she was right outside his door.
Gasping, her cheeks red from running.
The UGG TAZZs on her feet had only made it more challenging, threatening to trip her up more than once, but she was there. Finally.
Her long black hair stuck out messily from the ponytail she had tied back at home; she was stripped of her makeup, utterly unkempt, and hardly presentable. Yet, when the door slowly opened, and Jungkook's face appeared, his eyes wet with the tears she had anticipated, she felt perfectly in order. 
Perfectly as she was supposed to be. 
Perfectly where she was supposed to be.
“You came”
taglist: @alixnsuperstxr | @bts-dream | @enchantingbrowneyedgirl | @ycuvi | @cosmicwintr
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❒ notes: Hiii. I wrote this out of the blue, it's 4:15 in the morning here, but I couldn't go to sleep without posting it How are you?
I think I'll feel Jungkook's enlistment even more. His live sessions gave me comfort and helped me sleep during difficult times.
As for the story, just to clarify, this is not the end hehe
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