#the adventure time drawings still make me grin

[ofthecaravel]

If we had Gretablr Superlatives I’d nominate you for Funnest Artist

omg thank you???? i'd simply have to nominate @binarysunset17's work

[angelfic]

— CALM AFTER THE STORM

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: the 4 times you hate each other, and the one time you don’t. alternatively, remus lupin is a pain in your arse and yours alone.

warnings: enemies to lovers, swearing, kissing, mention of blood and wounds, some bad writing as always which is unedited

author’s note: just a little e2l fic for my own indulgence as its my fave trope and its criminal how i barely have any e2l fics… also haven’t written anything in ages soooo enjoy!

when he just has to be controversial

The sun was beaming, colourful rays reflecting over your book through the stained-glass windows of the Gryffindor common room as you lounged on the sofa with your head in Lily’s lap. You were barely paying attention to the chatter of your friends around you, choosing to focus on your copy of ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ and Marlene’s soft guitar playing. The lazy afternoon is a welcome break from the increasingly stressful N.E.W.T lessons that have had you all so exhausted, you’re not sure if Peter is asleep or dead from his curled-up position on the rug.

You don’t even realise someone is saying your name until Marlene tickles the sole of your socked foot with her guitar pick, making you yelp and draw your legs in from where they were previously tucked in between Marlene and her guitar.

“What was that for?” you grumble, nudging her arm with your foot.

Marlene smirks, nodding over to James. “He told me to get your attention. Didn’t specify how.”

You roll your eyes and turn on your side to face the boy in question, his grin unfaltering as he multitasks polishing the handle of his broomstick and talking to you. “Not my fault you’re dead to the world when you’re reading,” he says, matter-of-fact, continuing when you raise your eyebrows in impatience. “I was just wondering how you could look so interested in that book. Remus said he’d do my homework for a month if I finished it the other day and I couldn’t get past five arse-numbingly dull pages.”

You scoff, adjusting your position again to face Remus as well. “And why was Remus betting you to read my book, exactly?”

“It was my copy,” Remus replies, scribbling away on his parchment, cross legged on his chair, to undoubtedly finish the Potions essay that Slughorn had set yesterday. You’re transfixed on the way his hand is moving across the page for a second, unable to fathom how someone can have such messy handwriting. You aren’t surprised in the slightest that the next words coming out of his mouth are ones you disagree with. “I wanted to see how long he lasted reading the slowest-paced book in the world.”

You abruptly sit up at this, shutting your book and forgetting plans of relaxation.

“Hey, watch it!” Lily exclaims, lifting the bottle of black polish she’s using to paint Sirius’ nails from its balanced position on her thigh to avoid you spilling it all over her white top. “If you’re about to argue, please refrain from throwing things until after I’ve done the second coat of nail polish.”

You pointedly ignore this and narrow your eyes at Remus who, infuriatingly, still hasn’t lifted his head from his essay. “I’m surprised you found it hard to read such a slow book. Thought that’d be perfect for you.”

“Look what you’ve started, Prongs,” Sirius sighs, examining his nails.

Seeing the corners of Remus’ lips pull up into a slight smile at your comment just spurs you on in defence of the book you were previously enjoying. “Besides, it’s about a real-life teenager with real-life struggles, not The Hobbit on his latest adventure.”

“Who’s Hobbit?” James mumbles, scratching his head in confusion as Marlene just shrugs, equally oblivious.

“It’s overrated,” Remus insists, finally setting down his quill to look at you. The amused expression still hasn’t left his face and you make a noise halfway between a scoff and a high-pitched squeal of indignance. “Even James agrees.”

“Oh, and James’ opinion on literature is the standard now?” You raise a brow, tutting when James starts to protest. “The only book James has finished in the last six years was Quidditch Through the Ages.”

The way James slowly slides the aforementioned book under one of the sofa cushions doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Sirius starts snickering, much to Lily’s annoyance as she tries to control his hand. “She got you there, in fairness, mate.”

Sirius’ chortling seems to stir Peter from his sleep and he opens one eye to peer at you. Seeming to catch sight of your irritated expression, he frowns. “Are these two arguing like an old married couple again?”

“Merlin help us if these two ever decide to get married,” Marlene utters under her breath, bent over her guitar and avoiding the weight of your glare.

“Yeah, he wishes,” you grumble, shuffling around on the sofa to get back into a comfortable position with your book. Remus’ smile has only widened in response and he seems to enjoy your discomfort as you overcompensate for showing your annoyance by wriggling about.

“I dream about it every night,” Remus replies, dryly and Peter giggles below you before turning over to sleep again.  

You overcompensate a little too much by moving around, because Lily huffs from beside you and starts scrambling around for a tissue. “What did I say about the second coat?”

“I didn’t throw anything this time!”

2. when he won’t let you give someone a black eye

Defence Against the Dark Arts is your favourite N.E.W.T subject for a lot of reasons. You enjoy the lesson content, it’ll be useful in future years, and it’s the one lesson you share with every single one of your friends.

You’ve gotten used to James and Sirius messing around while Professor Marigold recites fact after fact about spells and creatures and wizards of dark nature. Its like soothing background noise to you and your classmates who all concentrate in silence most of the time.

Which is why your quill stops on your page and leaves a growing ink blot when you hear snickering and whispers from the other side of the classroom rather than from in front of you where the marauders sit in a line.

The scoffs of disgust coming from Snape and Mulciber are loud enough to attract the attention of the rest of the students and even the teacher, who eventually sets down her piece of chalk in the middle of talking about Wolfsbane potion with an impatient sigh.

“Is there some sort of pressing issue that can’t wait until after class to discuss, boys?” Professor Marigold asks with a tone of ire that would impress Professor McGonagall. “Even Black and Potter have decided to give it a rest today.”

She’s not wrong, you think, noting how they’ve been less disruptive than usual for this lesson, probably tired out from setting each other’s robes on fire in Charms the hour before.

“The pressing issue is werewolves,” Snape mutters quietly, as though he doesn’t want to make a big issue but can’t stop himself from speaking up. “We should be learning more about how to kill them and less about the price of potion ingredients.”

Lily gasps from beside you and Sirius and James tense up at his words. Remus doesn’t lift his head, but you absently notice how his grip tightens around his quill when Peter nervously turns to him. Peter isn’t one for conflict and he’s always been nervous around this particular group of Slytherins, so you’re not surprised he’s anxious.

“Werewolves are still people, you can’t just go around killing them!” you find your mouth moving on its own, before your brain can catch up. When Snape turns to direct his scowl at you, its matched by your own as well as Lily’s disappointed frown. “They didn’t ask to be werewolves, they physically can’t help it! How would you feel if people wanted to kill you for not being able to control being such an arse.”

“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor Marigold warns, setting her stern eyes on you. You’re not one for disrupting lessons or getting into trouble, so when Remus turns around to look at you with a raised eyebrow, your cheeks start to warm and you stubbornly don’t look his way again.

Snape ignores her to continue glaring at you. “I don’t have the capacity to kill people in a feral rage now, do I?” His gaze flits from you to Lily and Marlene and then lingers on the boys. “Of course, you’re defending werewolves. It’s no surprise considering who you choose to associate yourself with.”

“Mr Snape.”

“You have no need to fly into a feral rage to kill people,” you reply, voice steadily rising in volume. Sirius and James turn their heads back and forth like they’re watching a tennis match and you know the only reason they haven’t piped up to agree with you is because they’re too entertained watching the way you’re about to jump out of your seat to pounce on Snape. “All you need to do is show someone your face for them to die of fright–”

“ENOUGH!” Professor Marigold’s booming voice cuts through the laughter of everyone on the Gryffindor side of the classroom and when you turn to look at her, you see even Remus’ shoulders are shaking with silent laughter. You’re not sure why this pleases you, but it doesn’t last long enough for you to figure it out before Marigold waves her wand in the direction of the door and sends it flying open. “Both of you will wait for me outside the classroom until the lesson has finished so I can discuss your appalling behaviour.”

You gape at her for a second, before relenting and grabbing your bag, not wanting to argue with her authority. Your friends have different ideas.

“That’s not fair!” Marlene exclaims, standing up in protest. “She didn’t even do anything wrong.”

“Yeah,” James agrees, also standing up. “Snape’s the one who was being an annoying pri–”

“Sit down, everyone,” Marigold cuts him off, pursing her lips. “Everyone except Mr Snape and Miss Y/L/N. Do not even think about speaking Mr Black, or I won’t hesitate to suspend your and Mr Potter’s Quidditch privileges until further notice.”

Sirius shuts his mouth after a nudge from James and you shoot your friends a grateful smile before making your way out of the classroom, followed closely by Snape.

The door shuts behind him and you don’t bother sparing him a glance before dumping your bag on the ground and leaning against a wall to focus your gaze on a suit of armour for the next five minutes. You’re about half a minute in when you notice that one of the hands are slightly wonky and the classroom door suddenly opens.

Remus, of all people, enters the hallway to join the two of you and quickly shuts the door.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, furrowing your brows and getting up from against the wall.

“Yeah, what are you doing here?” Snape sneers at him, and you give him a scathing look before turning to Remus for an answer.

Remus pointedly ignores him to stand next to you against the brick wall. “I just pointed out to Professor Marigold that you both have your wands and she may not have two students left out here by the end of the lesson.”

“I can defend myself,” you snort, folding your arms. You aren’t sure if you’re annoyed that Remus is insinuating otherwise, or if you’re touched that he doesn’t want you to be hexed into oblivion by Snape. “Especially from him.”

“Oh, I know,” Remus raises both hands in surrender as his tone becomes grave. “It’s not you I’m worried about, trouble.”

“Ha ha,” you deadpan, rolling your eyes at the nickname. He started it around a year ago when you got your first ever detention for helping Sirius and James Charm the Slytherin chairs to throw them off every time someone sat. Your friends had kept quiet about your involvement, but Peeves had spotted you, the nosy bastard. The nickname stemmed from the fact it was the first time you had ever gotten into trouble and it never failed to irritate you. “You better be careful I don’t hex you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of annoying you,” he says, but the serious tone of voice is ruined by the way his lips are twitching in an attempt not to laugh at you. “After what happened when I said I didn’t like that one Jane Austen book? Forget it.”

“Hey, you insulted one of my favourite characters,” you point out, resting a hand on your hip. “What did Emma ever do to you? You had that hex coming.”

“I had pink hair for a week,” Remus narrows his eyes at you, but you can tell he isn’t really angry. Although he refuses to admit it, you know for a fact he didn’t hate the pink hair considering how good he looked with it. An annoying indiscretion on your part. Remus looks behind you for a split second before leaning in a little to whisper. “I won’t get in the way if you want to turn Snape’s hair pink, though. Preferably a very bright shade of flaming, hot pink.”

At risk of your own cheeks flaming up from how close he is – really, what’s the need? – you shake your head let your hair fall into your face. Almost having forgotten Snape is also there, you start when he scoffs (for what you think is the millionth time this afternoon) and you sigh before facing him begrudgingly. “What now?”

“Couldn’t handle the content of today’s lesson?” he asks, tiling his head. You’re about to ask him what the hell he’s talking about before you realise, he isn’t actually talking to you, but to the boy behind you.

“Uh…” you trail off, not sure how to respond. All three of you currently standing in the corridor know that Remus is smart enough to tackle any type of content, especially something as memorable and interesting as werewolves.

Remus’ amused demeanour has been wiped away and you can’t determine his exact expression, but his voice is cold when he talks to you. “Just ignore him.”

“You and your group of friends can’t help themselves when it comes to defending strays and all sorts,” Snape continues, much to your confusion. “It’s not enough that you’re a group full of blood-traitors and mudbloods…”

Remus tenses up behind you and you find yourself frozen for a second.

The next thing you know, you’re lunging at the greasy-haired Slytherin with every intention of hurting his face with your fists, wand long forgotten. Your fingers barely brush his robes, however, when you feel yourself being hauled back by strong arms that wrap around your middle.

“Let go!” you snarl, enjoying the way Snape has backed away, eyes wide and worried. “Did you hear what he said? Remus, let me go.”

He doesn’t relent, still holding onto you when he leans down to speak in your ear. “You’ve already gotten into trouble. You’ll get into a whole lot more when everyone walks out to see Snape with a black eye and you with bruised knuckles.”

“Worth it,” you grit out, still pulling away from his grip and throwing daggers with your eyes at Snape. After a few more seconds of pointless struggling, you relax very slightly just to turn in his arms so you can direct your next words to him more pointedly. “Not only is he a slimy, blood-supremacist twat, but he also wants to kill a poor bunch of werewolves. We should be throwing him into the bloody Black Lake!”

“I know, I-” Remus is cut off when the door opens and students start flooding into the corridor to provide a barrier between you and Snape, indicating the end of the lesson. Remus finally lets you go when he realises you’re in direct view of Professor Marigold who stands behind her desk, waiting for you. “I had no idea you were such an advocate for werewolves.”

It’s the last thing you expected him to say and you immediately look up at him and frown. “Again, they’re people. They don’t deserve to be victims of prejudice just as no one does.” He doesn’t respond, staring at you with an unreadable expression and a hint of a smile. Your frown deepens in confusion. Was he… laughing at you? Especially after you had just gotten along. “I’m so glad you find me amusing,” you say, scowling and storming back into the classroom and away from Remus.

3. when he's too good for flower crowns.

“Tell it again,” James insists, grin wide as ever plastered onto his face despite the withering look you send his way. “Getting a glimpse at even the possibility of Snivellus getting pummelled by Y/N would have made my entire year.”

“The galleons I’d give up to have been there,” Sirius releases a wistful sigh, closing his eyes as he lies down, facing the sun.

You hand him the daisy chain crown you just finished and he dutifully dons it. “I’ll alert the Ministry of Magic to order in a time-turner for an issue of utmost urgency,” you say sarcastically as you start on the next daisy chain. Sirius merely winks at you.

“I think you should’ve let her have at him, Remus,” Marlene states, unapologetic. You nod vehemently in agreement, a little too enthusiastically as you end up splitting a daisy down the middle.

Lily tuts, adjusting her own flower crown as it slips against her silky red hair. “I’m glad you didn’t. Godric knows what Professor Marigold would have done,” she shudders at the thought, ever the diligent student.

“Forget Marigold,” Peter chimes in. “Imagine what Professor McGonagall would have done.”

You don’t miss how he looks over his shoulder in case your head of house is taking a stroll along the grassy grounds.

“She would have combusted when you called him an ugly arse,” Remus pipes in, unhelpfully might you add, from where he sits slightly away from the group under a tree, reading.

The comment sends Marlene, Sirius and Peter into a fit of laughter – James is too busy staring at the way the sun is making Lily look ethereal and she’s too busy pretending not to notice while being secretly pleased. Doing a quick survey of your friends, you see everyone now has a flower crown except Remus. You make your way to the tree he’s resting against while the others chat, and sit yourself down with purpose.

Remus lowers his book very slightly to peer at you and your too-sweet smile. He raises a sceptical brow. “Should I be scared right now?”

You drop the fake smile and hold up your flower crown expectantly. “Everyone has one, but you.”

“How observant,” he says, setting his book down to look at you in mock astonishment. “Have the Aurors at the Ministry caught wind of you yet?”

“Don’t be a pain,” you groan, dropping it onto his open book. “I want everyone to wear one for the picture!”

Remus sighs, looking at the large camera over by your bag. You had saved up all summer to buy a magical camera to be able to take pictures of you and your friends in your final year at Hogwarts. The time you used your own muggle camera was a disaster of sparks and broken bits of plastic that took hours to mend. “I already agreed to your incessant picture-taking,” he reminds you, acting like it’s the most painful thing in the world. “The flower crown is not happening.”

“Fine, you miserable git,” you flick a handful of grass at him, sending him sputtering. “Now come and sit for the photo.”

You return to the group with Remus behind you and get everyone in position before hunting down someone to take the photo. Glancing around, you spot a close bunch of first-years and send Lily to use her Head Girl credentials (and warm and inviting personality, of course) to rope one of them into coming over.

“Okay, smile everyone,” you order, plopping down on the grass next to James. You elbow him in the ribs, not even having to look at him to know what he’s doing. “Stop looking at Lily and look at the camera.”

With a couple of mutterings and some nudging, the nervous first-year Hufflepuff girl shakily takes the picture and hurriedly hands you the camera in the middle of the picture sliding out of it. James and Sirius go back to playing with a golden Snitch while Peter watches, while Remus returns to his book.

Lily looks at the picture and coos over how cute everyone looks at the same time as Marlene complaining about her hair. You impatiently take the picture back to slide it into your photo album and something catches your eye.

Sirius is making a peace sign behind Remus’ head. His head that wears a flower crown.

4. when he bleeds out on you.

You’re not sure what time it is – either very late at night, or very early in the morning. You do know, however, that you want to finish your Herbology essay so you can enjoy tomorrow (or today) and cheer your friends on in the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw Quidditch game. You only have the conclusion left and you’re confident it’ll be done in the next ten minutes.

If you can find your damned quill, that is. You could have sworn you had it ten minutes ago, just before you snuck down to the kitchens to persuade the house-elves to give you the strongest cup of coffee they could make. You take a quick sip and grimace at the lukewarm temperature before setting it down and getting up to search. After turning every sofa cushion upside down, you go to crouch behind the sofa.

You hear the door to the common room being swung open and the hushed voices of the Marauders enter, but you don’t take too much notice as you squint for your quill. It isn’t unusual for the boys to be roaming around the castle at odd hours of the night, but a hiss of pain grabs your attention at the same time you spot the quill.

“Can you guys manage taking him up to the-” Sirius cuts himself off when your face pops up from behind the sofa. He freezes in his efforts to hold up Remus, who you notice is leaning on him and James and Merlin’s balls he’s covered in blood.

“What the fuck happened to him?” Your voice comes out weak as you walk over to the boys. Remus has deep, bleeding slashes over his chest and an assortment of little cuts on his face and hands. He seems barely able to keep his eyes open but when his gaze meets yours, he winces. He isn’t the only one hurt and you realise Sirius’ arm is damp with blood and trembling, the same going for James’ thigh. “What the fuck happened to all of you, oh my God…?”

“Peter, you were supposed to keep watch,” James hisses at the boy who looks like a deer in headlights. He looks a lot better than the others, with only a couple of small cuts scattered around his face and arms.

“She was behind the sofa!”

James’ leg buckles and you snap out of your state of shock to dart forward and keep him steady. “Right. Shit, okay,” you breathe out, holding off asking any questions to prevent anyone from bleeding out. “James, Sirius, set Remus down on the sofa and take off his shirt. Peter, help these two up the stairs and go find a first-aid kit or something.”

“We’ve got a couple in the dorm,” Sirius says, summoning one of them down with a quick Accio and handing it to you. He hesitates for a second, probably unsure if he should stay and explain things, before deciding to turn in the direction of the stairs with James as Peter rushes to help them up. “Look after him, please. We’ll be right back, Moony.”

“Take your time, I’ve got him,” you utter, already fiddling with the first-aid box and trying to open it with shaky hands. You’re no healer, but you know enough to panic when you see Remus has had his eyes closed for the last few seconds. “Remus, keep your eyes open!”

He groans, cracking one eye open to look at you. “I’m injured and bleeding out and you still manage to yell at me.”

“I wasn’t yelling,” you frown, unscrewing the bottle of dittany and scrambling for the cotton pads. You try to avoid Remus’ gaze because you feel extremely silly about being more panicked than him when he’s the one with claw marks down his chest. “Don’t move, or it’ll hurt.”

While dabbing the liquid onto the deep gashes in an attempt to close them up, you ponder on the fact that he probably knows it hurts from experience. You’re not completely clueless.

“What are you thinking?” Remus whispers in the stifling quiet of the common room, looking unsure.

You don’t cease in your movements, changing cotton pad after cotton pad. It takes you a minute to muster up the courage to meet Remus’ gaze again and this time he looks more nervous than you’ve ever seen him. “You’re a werewolf, aren’t you?”

Remus gives you an almost imperceptible nod, like he doesn’t want to admit to it. You take a deep breath.

“Who else knows?” you ask calmly, as if you’re asking him about the weather.

“The boys and Lily,” he admits, swallowing hard. “Oh, and Snape.”

“Snape?” you exclaim, halting your dabbing to gawp at Remus. “I’m not saying you had to tell me or anything, but Snape?”

 Remus winces and you don’t think it has anything to do with his injuries. “In my defence he found out on his own and hates me for it,” he rushes out. “And it’s not that I didn’t want to tell you… I-”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off, waving him off and wondering how good you’re hiding the fact you’re a little hurt. “You didn’t have to tell me.”

“No, I wanted to. I did,” Remus insists, looking earnest. There’s something in his voice that’s a little pained and desperate that has you meeting his eyes. “I just couldn’t have dealt with it if you started looking at me differently. The boys and Lily sometimes do, y’know? Like I’m made of glass or something. It’s refreshing whenever you scowl at me or call me an idiot or an arse or a stupid gi-”

“Okay,” you stop him, stifling a grin. “I get it!”

Remus’ eyes flash with relief for a second before you notice doubt start to creep in again. “You don’t need to hide it, by the way. I won’t hold it against you if… If you’re scared or disgusted, or-”

“What?” you cut him off again and scrunch your nose in confusion. “I’m not scared or disgusted. Why would you think that?”

“You’ve been a bit too calm,” he points out.

Rolling your eyes, you grab a bandage to start patching up the worst of the injuries before you move onto the minor cuts and bruises. “I didn’t want you to think I was freaking out, or looking at you differently,” you quote his own words to him with a pointed look, making him smile again. “I don’t, you know. Think of you any differently, I mean.”

His expression is unreadable as he just looks at you and you just look at him, bandage hovering over his chest before his fingers come up to brush the back of your hand. He lightly holds your hand, softly running his thumb over your knuckle as his voice drops to a whisper again. “Thank you.”

You offer him a gentle smile, holding his gaze for a second longer before focusing on bandaging him up again. His hand drops to the side and you oddly find yourself missing his warmth. The large bandage adheres to his skin and you run your fingers along the sides to stick them down, feeling him shudder under your touch.

You quickly busy yourself with looking for more supplies in the kit to hide the way your own breathing has increased slightly. “Hey, anyway, I almost walloped Snape right in the eye for you. If that wasn’t any indication of my standing on werewolves, I don’t know what is.”

“Ah, my knight in shining armour,” Remus chuckles before breaking into a wheeze as the muscles of his injured abdomen contract. “Fuck, don’t make me laugh.”

“Don’t laugh at me then!”

5. when you’re definitely not jealous… you’re not!

Three cups of coffee. You’re on three cups of coffee. It’s also the same number of hours you’ve slept and by Godric can you feel it in every inch of your body as the muted chatter of the Great Hall buzzes around you. Your head is in your hands as you contemplate stealing some Polyjuice potion and bribing a first-year to take a dose with your hair in it so you can go to bed and they can pretend to watch the Quidditch match.

You knock back the last sip of coffee when you sense a presence sliding onto the bench in front of you. Groggily setting the cup down, you see that its Remus. It takes a second to remember why this is concerning.

“Morning, h- Wait, what the hell are you doing out of bed?” you hiss, leaning forward to avoid anyone listening in. You scan your eyes over his chest, two seconds away from ripping his shirt off to check his bandages. “How are you even standing?”

“Relax, Florence Nightingale,” Remus says, rolling his eyes at your dramatics. He does his own quick sweep of the table and sees that most people are out in the Quidditch stands already, so he proceeds to pull the neckline of his shirt down slightly to reveal an already fading scar. No bleeding in sight. “I went to Madame Pomfrey with the boys this morning and she hurried up the process like she usually does. I feel achier than a 90-year-old woman with a metal hip, but the brunt of it is gone and Pads and Prongs are good as new.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, narrowing your eyes slightly. “If you’re sure you can sit out in the stands…”

“I can once I’ve consumed every cup of tea on the premises,” he says, reaching for the teapot. An annoyingly smug smirk starts to appear on his face while he pours. “What, are you worried about me, trouble?”

You scowl instantly. “No, I just don’t want you collapsing on me in the Quidditch stands while I’m cheering the boys on.”

“Right.” He hides his grin behind his cup of tea.

“Hey,” you mumble, nodding to Patricia Holloway who looks like she’s making a beeline to your table. More specifically, towards Remus. “Bright and cheery Hufflepuff incoming.”

“Merlin, it’s too early for this,” Remus whispers, taking another sip of tea before his face breaks out into a charming smile directed at the girl who slides into the empty seat next to him. “Morning, Patricia.”

“You look good today, Remus,” Patricia rests her elbow on the table and tilts her head to look at him with simpering eyes. It’s no secret Remus is good-looking and you’ve heard a million girls talk about him before. You’ve never seen any of them approach him yourself, though. You can’t say you enjoy it. “Are you… okay, Y/N?”

You didn’t realise you were scowling until she addresses you and you rapidly smooth out your expression, clearing your throat. Remus looks amused, which makes it harder to keep the scowl off your face. “Fine! I’m fine, just a bit confused since Remus looks half asleep,” you attempt a laugh through gritted teeth and are spurred on when Remus is actively trying to fight a grin. “And his hair currently makes him look like he’s been dragged through the Forbidden Forest.”

He can’t stop himself snorting at that, but Patricia just looks confused as though unsure how to react. She settles on a nervous little laugh, turning back to him. “I can fix that for you, here,” she says, scooting closer and starts to run her hands through Remus’ hair. You poke your cheek with your tongue, marvelling at how bold she’s being and how Remus is just sat there, still looking amused as ever. “There, what do you think?”

“A hairbrush couldn’t have done a better job,” you deadpan, softening your expression slightly when Patricia begins to look a little disconcerted. “You keep doing that, I’m going to head off to the Quidditch field.”

You all but storm out of the Great Hall, exhaustion having left you completely. It’s replaced by a newfound whirl of irritation that pools in your stomach and creeps up your throat, making you feel a little sick. It must be the coffee, you think, and you’re trying to remember if the beverage has ever made you experience this when all of a sudden there’s a hand circling your wrist.

“Stop, Y/N,” Remus says, a little breathless. You didn’t realise he’d run out after you and you feel bad about his injuries before your gaze snags on his newly tousled hair. “Godric, you walk fast.”

“I didn’t ask you to catch up to me,” you snap, purposely scowling this time. The cheeky bastard still looks amused and your irritation is growing faster than ever. “Besides, the match doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes. Plenty of time for Patricia to give you a whole new hairdo. Maybe she can give you plaits or– Why are you laughing.”

“You’re jealous,” he exhales with a smile, sounding positively delighted. Any feelings of concern have disappeared and are being rapidly replaced with wanting to thwack him upside the head. “Oh my God, you really are jealous.”

“Jealous, my arse,” you scoff, turning your back to him with every intention of speed walking out of the castle. His long legs keep up with you easily and he rushes in front of you to stop you going anywhere. You glare at him. “Leave me alone, Lupin.”

“Not until you admit that you’re jealous.” Remus is positively giddy with glee and you feel a flush of heat crawling up your neck. You set your jaw stubbornly and he’s incredulous as he shakes his head. “Merlin, you really have to argue with me on everything don’t you? I don’t care about Patricia Holloway and I’m glad you’re jealous. Means you’re less likely to break my nose when I kiss you.”

You barely get the chance to make an incoherent noise when Remus grabs you by the waist and presses his lips against yours, kissing you like he isn’t prepared to let you go anytime soon. His mouth slides hot and wet against your own and you gasp into the kiss when he nips lightly at your lip, your hands coming up to slide into his hair, making it unruly all over again.

Remus is the first to break apart, too soon, and you physically restrain yourself from chasing after his lips. He pulls back slightly, breathing fast to look into your eyes, searching for the answer you’re unable to speak yet.

“You… uh, I-I’m…” you trail off, dazed and breathless and head swirling with every emotion under the sun.

Remus laughs, pulling you impossibly close and leaving a soft kiss on your jaw, which doesn’t help your current speech issues. “If I knew that was all it took to shut you up, I’d have kissed you years ago.”

“Wha-!” You slap his arm, snapping out of the haze. You hide your current uncertainty behind a glare. It hit you like a ton of bricks, but you realised about five seconds into the kiss that you wanted Remus Lupin in every way, shape and form. You’re more than a little terrified, so what better defence mechanism than anger? “Why did you actually kiss me, you prick?”

“You are the densest, most clueless,” Remus begins, pausing to kiss you lightly a couple times when you start to scowl. “Most stubborn and most beautiful little witch I’ve ever known. And if you haven’t figured out after almost seven years that I love you, then I’m afraid we might have to admit you to St Mungo’s, because really-”

“Stop,” you whisper, lifting a finger to press against his lips, effectively silencing him. “You love me? You actually, seriously love me?”

He rolls his eyes and nods, like it’s obvious or something. You huff. “Then why have you been such an annoying pain in my bloody arse, Remus Lupin?!”

“Because,” he says, the word coming out muffled and you hastily remove your finger. “It was a good way to keep your attention. Plus, I like when you’re angry. It’s cute.”

You scowl without thinking and his smile impossibly widens.

“See?”

“Shut up and kiss me again,” you say dryly, pulling him in by the collar to give him a short, searing kiss. “Oh, and I guess I love you too.”

“So, no broken noses in my future?” Remus asks hopefully, softly sliding his nose against yours.

“No promises.”

© angelfic 2023.

[voidpetrova]

watch your back — carl gallagher x reader

☄. *. ⋆

content warnings and genre: swearing, drunk sex, body worship, vouyerism, masturbation, squirting, dirty talk, lip is a perv, all the characters in the fic are over the legal age of consent

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

synopsis: one of the gallagher brothers is having their way with you, while one of the others can only stand by and wish it were them

✧.*

the neon lights of the alibi room flickered behind you as you stumbled down the dimly lit sidewalk, carl's arm draped over your shoulders for balance. laughter bubbled up from both of you as the alcohol in your systems worked its magic, making every step an adventure in itself. the night air was cool, a welcome relief from the warmth of the bar.

“did you see the look on kev's face when he dropped that tray?” carl slurred, his words tinged with amusement.

you stiffled your laughter, a giggle escaping your lips. “and how v nearly tackled him for it? classic.”

carl's grin widened as he gazed down at you, his eyes slightly glazed but filled with affection. “you're fucking amazing, you know that?” you leaned into him, playfully nudging his side. “only when i'm three shots and a cocktail in.”

as you reached the front door of the gallagher household, carl fumbled with the keys for a moment before finally managing to unlock it. the door swung open, revealing the familiar chaos of the home. you both stumbled inside, laughter echoing through the hallway.

“home sweet home,” carl declared, his arm still draped over your shoulders as he led you further into the house.

you both swayed slightly as you made your way to the kitchen, the room bathed in the soft glow of the overhead light. the scent of leftover takeout and a hint of spilled beer lingered in the air.

“can you get me a beer?” you slurred as you dropped down to the kitchen floor, legs spread in a manner you would have thought twice about if you were sober. carl shot you a smile, already two steps ahead of you as he waved the bottle that was already in his hand before throwing it at you. “you know me so well.”

he cackled at the way you nearly dropped the bottle, shaking his head. “dude, you're fucking wasted.” With a playful roll of your eyes, you managed to pop the cap off the beer and take a long swig, a contented sigh escaping your lips. “i'm living my best life right now.”

while your laughter grew louder, lip gallagher felt himself stirring from his sleep in the room upstairs, his curiosity piqued by the commotion. your whispers and laughter, though still playful, became a bit too raucous, the noise gradually seeping into lip's consciousness. he groaned, rubbing his eyes as he got up from the makeshift bed he'd crashed on earlier in the night. groggily, he shuffled into the kitchen, his disheveled appearance drawing no attention from you two. you hadn't even notice him there. he wanted to say something, but he froze in his tracks when he saw you with his brother.

“this is the last time i let you go out like this,” carl slurred, referring to what you were wearing. it was nothing too scandalous, but he knew he couldn't look away when your breasts were pushed up together, spilling out of your dress, the fabric outlining your ass and waist in the worst way possible. “had the nerve to beat up about 12 different guys tonight.””

your laughter bubbled up again as you playfully nudged carl, the flirtatious energy between you two palpable as you climbed into his lap, snaking your arms around his neck. “you really are my hero.” carl smirked, his fingers grazing the exposed skin of your thigh. “damn right.”

lip, still standing unnoticed in the doorway, a mixture of amusement and disbelief settling over him. the sight before him was unexpected, to say the least. he had no idea things had progressed this far between you and carl. he knew he needed to look away, but all he could do was stand there and watch. he watched the way your bare thighs hung out exposed, tits poking out from the side, your ass pressed against his brother's jeans. he swallowed his nervousness, ignoring the way his jeans tightened at the sight of you.

as the flirtatious banter and playful teasing continued to fill the air, the magnetic pull between you and carl seemed to intensify. his fingers gently traced the curve of your jaw, his touch sending shivers down your spine. you felt your breath hitch as his gaze locked onto yours, the world around you narrowing to focus solely on each other.

without a word, his lips descended towards yours, his movements slow and deliberate. the anticipation was almost unbearable, your heart pounding in your chest as your lips grew tantalizingly close. the soft warmth of his breath danced across your skin, and then, finally, his lips met yours in a gentle, lingering kiss.

the sensation was electric, a rush of warmth flooding your senses as your lips moved against his. the kiss started tenderly, as if testing the waters, but the desire between you both quickly overtook any hesitation. his fingers threaded through your hair, pulling you in closer, and your arms wound around his neck, drawing him impossibly near.

his lips were soft yet demanding, a perfect balance between urgency and gentleness. each press of his mouth against yours sent waves of heat through your body, the chemistry between you igniting like a wildfire. your lips moved in sync, a rhythm born from unspoken longing and shared attraction.

carl's kiss deepened, his tongue gently seeking entrance, and you parted your lips with a soft sigh. the taste of him was intoxicating, the mingling of desire and the faintest hint of alcohol creating a heady concoction. your tongues danced together in a sensuous exploration, a dance that felt both familiar and new.

time seemed to slow as the kiss deepened further, the world outside the kitchen fading into obscurity. the room was filled with the sounds of heavy breaths and the wet, delicious sounds of your mouths moving against each other. every touch, every sensation, seemed to reverberate through your entire being.

your fingers traced the contours of his strong jaw, the heat of his skin searing into your memory. his grip on you tightened, his hand moving from your hair to the small of your back, pulling you impossibly closer as he began to lift your dress. the intimacy of the moment was overwhelming, a combination of pent-up desire and the freedom that came with the intoxicating mix of alcohol and desire. lip was still watching from the sidelines—of course, he wasn't watching his brother. he was watching you, the tightness in his boxers waking him up fully.

“take it off, princess,” carl snarled into your mouth, slurring his words ever so slightly. “take the dress off for daddy.” lip mentally cursed himself as he watched, only able to beg the man above to bring this to a halt. he wished that you wouldn't comply, so that he could look away and retreat back to his room, but when he heard you giggle, he knew there was no going back.

you pulled the dress off your head, discarding it onto the floor, leaving you in nothing but a bra and thong. carl groaned at the sight of you, feeling the way his jeans only grew tighter and tighter, but he wasn't the only one losing his cool.

from the sidelines, lip whispered a quiet “fuck,” under his breath as he admired your curves, all of you. you were the most gorgeous thing he'd ever seen, and he couldn't do much about it. the only thing he could do was quietly pull his pajama bottoms down, along with his boxers. he quietly hissed at the cool air caressing his bare cock, but he couldn't resist himself. he needed you to take care of his urges.

“all mine,” carl groaned as he pulled you in for another aggressive kiss. he groped your tits with a force that was bound to bruise you, exploring your mouth with his tongue. your bra came off in an instant, bare tits now free to hang right under his chin. he switched positions, with him now practically on top of you, but your back pressed to the kitchen drawers. “need you so fucking bad.”

lip watched you from an amazing angle, his spit-slicked hand stroking his cock in slow, agonizing motions. he watched you from the side, admiring the way moans passed your lips, tits bouncing with every move. he licked his lips, stiffling grunts as he jerked himself off.

carl's hands roamed your body, groping everything he could touch. he left a trail of kisses down your stomach before sliding your panties down with his teeth. “jesus fucking christ,” he practically moaned as he admired your pussy. “dripping all over the fucking floor.” his words only fueled lip's experience, and he was right, you were gonna stain the tiles with your slick. you whined as his hot breath fanned your core, lips leaving faint kisses along your inner thighs before his tongue began prodding your clit. “can't help it, daddy,” your fingers tugged at his blond locks, pulling him in closer with a groan of delight. “need you to fuck me so bad.”

lip sighed as your voice filled his ears, spoiling himself by massaging his balls and taunting thebslit of his dick. all he could think about was you—on your knees, helping him out with the same generosity carl was used to.

“you want daddy to fuck you, huh?” you nodded eagerly, pressing one of your bare feet to his crotch and he quickly began undoing his belt. “so needy you can't wait five minutes, huh princess?” you shook your head, desperate sounds leaving you as you pressed your bare back against the cold wall.

“so needy, daddy, need you right now,” you moaned in response. carl grinned, sliding his bottoms off with no hesitation before crawling back towards you, his lips inches away from yours. he positioned the head of his dick right on top of your entrance, but didn't push in, staying right where he was. “gonna let daddy tear your pussy up, huh?” you nodded, smiling right back at him with nothing but a playful glint in your eyes. “i'm gonna let daddy use my pussy and fill me up,” you both smiled before he pressed his lips to yours, engaging in another passionate kiss.

lip couldn't believe the filth that was coming out of your mouth. it had exposed him to a side of you he never knew existed. the same girl who used to sing liam to sleep, was now fueling his need to cum. his hair stuck to his forehead as he pumped his dick, watching the way your legs were spread, wet pussy shimmering with carl's dick placed on your clit. he couldn't wait to see and hear you get fucked.

“gonna ruin you,” carl groaned as he grabbed his shaft. it only took a second for him to bury himself into the depths of your pussy, all the way from his tip to his balls. you let out a cry of ecstasy, holding onto his shoulders for support. he was now seated on the floor, his back against the counter with you in his lap. “bounce on daddy's dick now, okay?”

you leaned back, moans passing your lips as you arched your back, now bouncing up and down on his cock. you shuddered as you did so, the angle setting off fireworks in your stomach. you sped up the pace, carl grunting as he tilted his hips upward, now meeting your bounces with thrusts. you locked your fingers in his hair, pulling him into your tits. he didn't hesitate to suck on them, marking the fat and biting your hardened nipples. you couldn't help but squeal at the overwhelming feeling of your pussy sucking him in.

“look at you, taking my dick so well,” he wasn't the only one looking at you. lip trembled as he continued to ferociously pump his cock, watching the way you kept bouncing. he watched the way your greedy cunt sucked up his brother's dick, the way your tits and ass bounced along with you, the wsy the counter shook from your brutal movements. he couldn't help himself—he would've given his liver to switch places with carl, for a chance to make you feel good. “you like the way daddy fucks you?”

you nodded feverishly, your bounces quickening in order to match his harsh thrusts. you spread your legs, giving your boyfriend and uninvited visitor a good look at the way your pussy took his dick—the way it disappeared inside you and came back for a split second, the way he was soaked in your juices. you began to whimper, a familiar sensation in your stomach forming. “i can't, i'm gonna cum,” you whined, holding onto carl's legs for support.

he had taken ahold of your hips, now thrusting inside you on his terms. he groaned loudly at the feeling of your pussy sucking him in, refusing to let go. “i'm gonna cum, too,” he announced, but he didn't stop. he didn't stop pounding into you, burying his thick cock until it was slamming into your cervix. he didn't stop until his brain went foggy and your cries were his only source of sense. “doing so good for me, baby, come on. cum on daddy's dick, baby. yeah,” he sputtered out words of encouragement until you were practically sobbing his name.

when you came, lip came, too. he stood in the doorway, his fist in the shape of a tight hole that was no match for you, draining the rest of the cum he had pent up inside him. he came with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, suppressing the sounds threatening to catch your attention. he milked his orgasm dry, getting every last drop that he had wasted on you. he came happily, knowing his last sight was a good one—with you drenching yourself in your own arousal.

[folkwhoredoll]

by the shore - rafe cameron x fem!reader

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader (friends with benefits)

synopsis: being friends with rafe has its benefits

word count: 1.7k

warnings/tags: smut! (f oral, unprotected sex), few curse words

request: rafe x Reader, they are best friend that’s are on a family trip that they take every year in summer, reader is good friends with both Sarah and rafe, rafe and reader are a bit tipsy messing around and find their way to the beach and that’s were the smut happens :) hope you can do it thank you.

a/n: hi everyone! it's been a while since my last post because things got busy in nursing school but since it's summer break, i can now post again! thank you to the one who requested this <3 i hope you'll like this one. happy reading!

masterlist

➶-͙˚ ༘✶

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the beachfront estate where you and the Camerons vacationed every summer. The annual family trip was a cherished tradition, one you eagerly anticipated each year. It started long before you even entered school, a yearly event your parents initiated to celebrate their friendship with the Camerons. Naturally, you also formed a growing friendship with Sarah and Rafe.

Though, if you were honest, "friendship" didn't quite describe the bond between you and Rafe. Whether you and the Cameron heir were dating was unclear, but he acted like you were most of the time. Almost no boys dared to ask you out, not with Rafe always glaring at them from behind you. He accompanied you almost everywhere, even pretending you were his girlfriend to keep other girls away.

But your relationship with Rafe wasn't simply a friendship because of what you two did behind closed doors. It was no secret that Rafe had several experiences, his natural charisma drawing girls to him. Perhaps that's why you couldn't resist him when he told you he admired you months ago. He was your first.

Not one soul knows about it; you couldn't risk it.

The evening air was filled with laughter and clinking glasses as your families gathered on the deck, enjoying the night of their getaway. You felt a pleasant buzz from the beer you and Rafe had been sipping, the alcohol buzzing through your veins. Sarah had to excuse herself to answer a call from Topper, leaving you and Rafe alone under the twinkling fairy lights.

Rafe grinned at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Wanna take a walk down to the beach?" he suggested, his voice slightly blurred but full of excitement.

You smiled back and nodded eagerly, the idea of sneaking for a late-night adventure sounding perfect. "Absolutely. Let's go back before Sarah gets back and decides to drag us into some boring game."

Rafe laughed, a deep, infectious sound that made your heart flutter. The combination of alcohol and the intimate setting seemed to excite you.

The two of you stumbled down the wooden steps leading to the beach, giggling and shushing each other while your hands gripped tightly around your beer bottles. The fine sand was cool beneath your feet and the ocean waves lapping gently at the shore.

Rafe motioned for you to sit near a large rock, sitting down first to make sure that it was comfortable enough. You positioned yourself beside him, sighing contently as you took in the view before you.

"Remember when Sarah and I built a sandcastle when we were like, ten? Then you ruined it with your soccer ball." You said.

"In my defense, I didn't mean to kick it towards your castle." Rafe chuckled at the memory. "And I got the worst punishment from you because you refused to speak to me for a week."

You hummed, sipping more of your beer. "Still not over it."

He snorted, leaning his head back.

The next moments were spent in silence. You and Rafe took turns drinking what was left from the bottle, smiling whenever you would make eye contact, and leaning closer and closer to him until your shoulders touched.

You took a deep breath when you felt Rafe kiss your cheek suddenly. "What was that for?"

"What? Can't I kiss you?" He smiled innocently. "It's not like we haven't done anything more than a kiss."

You threw him a look, knowing that in a few moments, you would be doing something that friends don't normally do. How Rafe could always be turned on, you could never understand. But you don't complain, not when your hormones also betray you every time you see his muscles strain from his tight shirt.

"Come on, Y/n. No one can see us from here." He whispered, his breath tickling your skin as he lowered his face to your neck.

You didn't say anything, and Rafe took it as a sign to move further, abandoning his beer to the side. He placed one hand on your thigh and another hand on your waist. Your head was spinning from both the alcohol and Rafe's hands, suddenly not able to speak as you savor the moment of his lips on your neck.

"What would our parents say when they find out what we do?" He wondered teasingly, smirking when he saw you discreetly push your thighs together. He loved you like this: submissive as you let him do whatever he wanted.

"Probably celebrate. They've been teasing us for years." You finally replied, a laugh coming from your throat as you remembered the times when they would try to set the two of you up in every gathering.

Rafe suddenly lifted the skirt of your sundress, causing you to gasp. "Out here? Really?"

His other hand moved from your waist to your back, feeling for the zipper of your dress. "It's a perfect spot. No one can see us or hear us unless you scream, of course."

His cocky attitude made you roll your eyes, though your cunt already fluttered at the thought of being bare under his body as the sunset. "We have to be fast, got it?"

You didn't give him a chance to reply as you tilted your body, swiftly pushing him back so you could move on top and straddle him. Rafe, although shocked by your sudden movement, smiled cheekily as he witnessed you reach to your back to unzip your dress.

"Damn, baby." He breathed as he eyed the way the straps of the dress dropped, hastily helping you to get out of your clothing. He licked his lips as he stared at the sight of you. Your breasts perked up as the cool sea breeze touched your skin, leaving you in your underwear.

"Take it off, Rafe." You told him, helping him take off the shirt that accentuated his muscles.

Following your request, Rafe moved quickly and placed his shirt on the sand beside the two of you, lifting your hips and guiding you to lay on his shirt.

He finished removing the rest of his clothing, never cutting eye contact with you even as he pulled his cock out. You made a quick look back to the house, making sure that you were not within anyone's eyesight.

You gasped as Rafe pulled your panties down, your cunt fluttering at the excitement. He lowered his head down until it was leveled with your pussy, his manhood hardening at the sight of your wet folds.

Without warning, he gave your cunt a long lick, pushing his warm tongue as deep as he could reach. You moaned loudly and quickly gripped his hair, your back arching as he sucked on your clit.

Rafe reached a hand upwards to cover your mouth, not too tight to restrict you from breathing but just enough to muffle your moans. Your chest heaving as you gasped, the alcohol and his tongue working together to give you the best pleasure.

Rafe himself was groaning as he enjoyed the sight of your writhing body, his heart swelling with pride, knowing that it was only him who could make you feel that way.

Your moans were exchanged with whines when he suddenly moved away from your pussy, kneeling in front of you as he stroked his stiff dick.

"You said we have to be fast." He chuckled, teasing you. "Ready, baby?"

After seeing you nod, Rafe pushed himself inside you, a loud groan erupting from his lips as he felt your warm and wet folds around him.

"Best cunt in the world." He whispered to himself.

You let out a loud moan as he filled you completely, growing needy and desperate for a release. "Move, Rafe. Make me cum, please."

Your words sounded like music to Rafe's ears, further feeding his ego. "Since you asked nicely."

In one quick movement, Rafe thrust in and out of you, lifting one of your legs to wrap around his waist so he could reach deeper.

The sounds of both of your breaths were mixed with the sound of the ocean waves as sweat grew on the surface of your skin. You were shamelessly whining and moaning in every thrust while Rafe was closing his eyes as he groaned in pleasure.

He pushed your other leg upwards, having you nearly folded in half as he pushed harder. He looked down to where you two were connected, his cock twitching at the sight. "Taking me so well, baby. Come on, I know you're close."

You were panting, breathless, and unable to speak. Your hands were clawing on Rafe's shoulder, wanting to push him away from the overwhelming feeling.

"R-Rafe…" You breathed out, feeling your pussy pulsate around him.

"Yes, Y/n. Go on, cum for me." He urged you, his pace never stopping nor slowing down.

You looked at him, admiring how he looked with his disheveled hair and warm cheeks. His muscles were tensing as he thrusted faster.

Without warning, he pulled your legs apart slightly, just enough so he could reach your clit with his hand. You almost screamed at the contact, another surge of gratification taking over your body as he pinched your bud.

"Fuck, Rafe!"

He smiled, hips going faster until he felt you cum around his cock. Your hips were jerking upward as you released, thighs shaking as you squirted on him.

Rafe moaned loudly, and after a few more thrusts, he released his load inside of you, not letting a drop go to waste.

You were quiet as you panted underneath Rafe, your legs still shaking occasionally while you enjoyed the feeling of both of your cum inside you.

Rafe was whispering compliments in your ear softly, stroking your skin as he slowly pulled himself out. He then helped you back into your underwear and dress, gently guiding you as you regained your balance. Rafe was quicker as he dressed himself up, grabbing your hand immediately and leading you back to the house.

"Let's clean up inside before Sarah finds us here."

[userlando]

unravel me — daniel ricciardo

daniel ricciardo x fem!reader [2.9k] summary: every day was an adventure with daniel in one way or another and that’s probably why you agreed so easily to wear the godforsaken panties in the first place. warnings: 18+ explicit smut & language, semi-public sex, edging, reader wears vibrating panties in public. a/n: fic one of smutober and the kink i decided to focus on is orgasm control. i had a lot of fun writing this one so i hope you enjoy it!! x

It had been something that was supposed to be funny, that would make the both of you giggle whenever you thought back on the moment but now, as you sat there clutching the edge of the table until your fingertips turned bleak, you couldn’t find the humour in it at all.

The dinner had been planned two days earlier, with George sending out an innocent text to the entire grid residing in Monaco, that contained a dinner invitation that Daniel was the first to reply to. You had been a little excited, you couldn’t lie. Between different foreign countries and hotel rooms that were all starting to look the same, you found little to no time to get the gang together for a fun night out.

Daniel was always mindful of how much time he spent on anything that wasn’t you, never wanting to leave you feeling left out or like you were a low priority to him because that was so far from the truth. He took you out, wined and dined you like the perfect cheeky gentleman that he was. He’d have the drinks flowing out, flirt with you and even stretch a leg out to play footsie with you until you were giggling and buzzed, warm all over with an undying need for him to get his hands on you.

Three years together and he still found ways to keep things exciting and entertaining. Every day was an adventure with him in one way or the other and that’s probably why you agreed so easily to wear the godforsaken panties in the first place. He’d found them on an obscure website, grinning from ear to ear when the package got delivered and your interest had been piqued at the regular old cardboard box in his hands as he carried it over to you. Your interest sound turned into mild concern when he revealed its contents, the words vibrating panties staring right up at you a little tauntingly.

“No way.” You’d told him when he arched an inquisitive eyebrow that said so much with so little words.

That no had turned into a yes when he wrapped his arms around you and swayed the both of you back and forth, giving you little kisses until you were squirming out of his grasp because you’d spent way too much time on your makeup for him to ruin it with his ass kissing.

He’d giggled with glee when you slipped the panties on, pressing the ones you’d been wearing into his hands with a grumble. It was the same giggle he was holding back now as he sat across from you at the table. His head was turned, nodding along to whatever Lando was saying but you could tell that his mind was somewhere else, focused on the tiny inconspicuous remote he was most likely fiddling with beneath the table.

You contemplated stretching your foot out to hopefully stab his toes with your stiletto, but knew that there was no way you could do it without drawing attention to yourself.

“Are you okay?” Lily’s voice drifted into your ears, interrupting your inner turmoil.

You glanced at her, finding her eyes watching you too closely that it nearly made you sweat. She knew you well enough to read what was showing on your face, so you made an effort to keep your face neutral and your smile unbothered.

“Yeah, why do you ask?” Your voice was a little too high and you realised that when her eyebrows jumped, clearing your throat roughly.

The hand that was holding a fork moved and she pointed at it toward your hand. You glanced down, letting out a breathless laugh at the way you’d subconsciously gripped the table cloth in an iron grip. You forced yourself to relax, slowly letting it go.

“I just…” You gave her a quick smile. “I’ve got cramps, shit’s killing me.”

Her face softened in understanding, hands letting go of the cutlery to reach for her purse but you quickly stopped her when you realised what she was trying to do. Any other day and you would’ve taken a moment to really think of how much you loved your friend, but your mind was already fuzzy. Like someone had stuffed your head full of cotton.

“It’s okay, I took something before so it’ll pass.” You quickly assured her and Lily eyed you suspiciously with only a little concern.

“If you say so.” She said slowly.

You only managed to relax when her attention was pulled from you to Alex, silently thanking her boyfriend for unknowingly saving you but your relief was short-lived. Your boyfriend was clearly out to get you, making his presence known by flicking a button on the remote and setting the vibrations off in your underwear.

The sharp spike of unexpected pleasure was so jarring that you barely managed to keep the gasp in, hands digging into your thighs to keep yourself grounded from the incessant buzzing between your legs. You glanced up at your boyfriend, finding him staring straight at you with a poorly concealed grin that you had half a mind to slap from his face. Daniel was looking a little too smug and you quickly regretted the glare you shot him because he was quick to retaliate, upping the vibration.

“Ha!” The sharp gasp that escaped you had both Kika and Lily looking this time, and you felt your entire body grow hot in embarrassment.

Never before had you felt as conflicted between mortification and unyielding pleasure.

“You okay?” Kika asked and you opened your mouth but Lily beat you to it.

“She’s got cramps.” She helpfully explained, sounding sympathetic enough for you to feel a little bad for lying to her.

But you couldn’t tell her the truth, you’d rather have the ground open up beneath you and swallow you while.

The entire ordeal was mortifying and you couldn’t do anything but nod wordlessly, silently sending a thanks to your lucky stars that the rest of your friends were so loud and chattery. You didn’t know what you’d do if you had gotten a few more pairs of eyes on you, especially when those eyes belonged to your boyfriend’s friends and colleagues.

“You need anything? I’ve got both pads and tampons.” Kika whispered and the offer was so sweet you couldn’t bring yourself to be annoyed with her.

After all, it wasn’t her fault. This was Daniel’s work and you wanted him to pay. Especially when he was looking so smug while your entire being was crumbling in on itself in pleasure and mortification.

“Do you need tampons?” Charlotte’s voice joined your hushed conversation and you internally groaned.

Oh God, you’re going to hell.

“No, I’m fine.” You waved the three of them off, grateful for their thoughtfulness but you didn’t need their attention on you.

You glanced at Daniel, shooting him daggers and that seemed to do the trick because the buzzing slowed down, eventually stopping and you relaxed in your chair. You hadn’t realised how wound up tight you’d gotten, inner thighs slick and panties sodden.

The conversation carried on and you didn’t focus, not really. It was hard to when Daniel was sitting across from you, looking as good as he did. It never ceased to amaze you how amazing he always looked, admiring the way his shirt was unbutton at the top and folded so perfectly that it showed off a sliver of his amazing chest. You wanted to bite that spot, mark up his neck to the point where he couldn’t wear anything with a low collar.

Your mind drifted further away the longer you looked, thinking of how you suddenly wanted to go home. How you weren’t up to staying around for dessert when you were absolutely throbbing.

Brown doe eyes glanced your way and your eyebrow twitched, biting back a sudden shy smile when the Aussie man smiled your way. You hurriedly reached for your glass of water, mouth feeling a little dry and really, you should’ve seen it coming. But you gulped too much water and Daniel’s fingers found the remote, switching it on. You were so unprepared that you promptly inhaled the water, sputtering it right out.

“Fuck.” You groaned as Kika slipped the glass from your hand before it slipped from your grasp, letting you cough until your throat was sore and your nose was burning.

“You alright, babe?” The innocent voice of your boyfriend made you squint up at him, coughing into your fist with a shake of the head.

“Wrong hatch.” You meekly explained, as if it wasn’t obvious.

With your throat cleared and your face wiped from water, you belatedly realised that you’d caught the attention of the whole group. They were all watching with different levels of concern and you shakily waved them off.

“It’s fine, I’m just gonna go to the restroom and freshen up.” You pushed your chair out as gently as possible, standing up cautiously because your legs were rattling like you’d run a marathon.

There was no feeling in them as you walked away, distinctly hearing Daniel’s voice dripping with faux concern as he excused himself. Let me just go check on the missus.

You loved when he called you that, and it secretly made you smile as you weaved between the tables and spotted the sign for the restrooms a few metres away, sighing in relief as you pushed the door open and stepped inside. You were feeling feverish, turned on beyond belief and you knew that there was only one person that could relieve that pressure off of you.

It was expected but it still made you jump when the door opened and a familiar figure filled the vast empty space. He looked a little flushed and a whole lot of handsome, grin on his face getting smothered as quickly as it came when you stumbled forward and caught his lips in a bruising kiss.

He answered eagerly, making a small sound against your mouth as he walked the both of you back into the furthest stall, arms wound around you to keep you from falling. You giggled, out of breath and aching when your back hit the swinging door of the stall, stumbling into each other.

The snip of the lock echoed in the quiet room but you paid it no mind as you tasted the fancy wine on your boyfriend’s tongue, feeling drunk off of it and him simultaneously.

“God, fuck—“ You gasped when he pushed you flush against the side of the stall, allowing you to feel his straining cock against your abdomen. You leaned into it, biting him a little too hard on his lip but Daniel only moaned, kissing you harder. “You’re such a fucking asshole. I hate you.”

“Uh huh.” He didn’t sound the least fazed, hands gripping everywhere they could. Your hips and ass ached as he grabbed them in his hold, prying your mouth open so he could lick into it. “Fucking driving me wild.”

“Likewis—“ Your word was lost in a gasp as the buzzing unexpectedly came to life between your legs, doubling over in a depraved moan that you desperately tried to hide by biting his shoulder.

Daniel snorted and you let go of his arm to slap it weakly, making him turn it up a notch. The guttural moan that came out of your mouth made him absolutely ache in his pants, and he pushed his hips into you; feeling the distinct buzz of your underwear.

“Yeah? Gonna come for me, darling?” He whispered and you nodded, breath hitching with every inhale. “Do it, be a good girl for me.”

You could feel yourself climbing, thighs tensing up in anticipation and you were so lost in the oncoming pleasure that you couldn’t focus on anything else. That’s why the sudden hand pressing to your gaping mouth took you by surprise, the buzzing ceasing and taking your orgasm away with it. You made a sound of devastation, frowning hard as you stared up into the face of your boyfriend. His wide eyes should’ve alarmed you, and it took a second to realise why he suddenly looked nervous.

The sound of footsteps against the tile made you pause, subconsciously holding your breath as you listened to the click clack of heels make their way to what you assumed was the sinks. The tap turned on and you stared into wide brown eyes as the two women started speaking in French, sounding a lot like they were gossiping, having unknowingly walked into something that shouldn't have been happening so publicly.

Daniel’s lips slowly turned into a smile, looking like someone had dropped the best gift right into his lap as he slowly realised that this would add to the fun rather than interrupt it. You could see the gears turning in his head as you stared at each other, jutting your hips out to brush against his hard cock.

He bit back a hiss, pushing harder against your mouth with his palm and watching your eyes flutter.

“Quiet.” He mouthed, his other hand reaching into his pocket and you made a pleading, muffled sound when the panties went off once again.

Daniel stared straight at your face, watching the frown of your eyebrows dissipate as pleasure started melting into your expression, eyes rolling as they closed. Your knees buckled a bit, like you couldn’t keep yourself upright and it was only when your hands gripped his arms that he knew you were well and truly on your way to orgasming.

“Yeah?” He whispered, so low that he might as well have been mouthing the words and you nodded, pants coming out harshly through your nose.

He knew you were becoming a little too loud, but he didn’t care as he watched your head drop back, eyelids fluttering shut as your body locked up beneath him. You came with a muffled wail, gripping his arms so tightly that you surely must’ve bruised them.

The roaring in your ears made it hard to hear, too focused on not getting overstimulated as Daniel gradually dialled down the power, until the buzzing finally stopped. You felt him remove his hand from your mouth, only opening your eyes when he’d pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips.

“Welcome back.” He whispered, looking and sounding way too pleased with himself.

You shook your head with a smile, but it dropped just as fast when you thought of the women outside the stall.

“They’re gone.” He said, like he could read your mind and he probably could. Daniel crooked a strand of hair behind your ear, nuzzling his nose against your cheek lovingly before giving you a kiss. “Your noises made them scurry off.”

“Shut up.” You flushed, pushing him off of you as you stood upright. The shake in your legs made Daniel grin, but you chose to ignore it. “God, we’ve been gone for way too long, haven’t we?”

He made a noncommittal noise that sounded a lot like I don’t fucking care, pushing the door open after unlocking it and gesturing out. You took a step before pausing, narrowing your eyes in distrust before reaching down and slipping the panties down your legs.

Daniel made a sound you couldn’t decipher when you stepped out of them, ignoring how wet they were and balling it up in a grimace.

“I don’t trust you to keep that remote untouched.” You said, biting back a smile when he shot you an offended look.

“I’d never do such a thing.” He said, but the grin on his face said an entirely different thing.

You couldn’t help but smile back, stuffing the underwear into his pocket and walking past him to wash your hands.

“So, what’s gonna be our excuse?” He asked, joining you by the sinks and leaning back against the marble.

You briefly considered feigning food poisoning, thinking that maybe it’d would work and you’d be able to slip away. It’d only been two hours but that meant nothing when it came to your friends, knowing that you all liked to stay that extra hour and pound so many drinks that the majority of you stumbled out of the restaurant.

Daniel handed you a paper towel, your mouth open to answer him belatedly but the door opening made you shut it quickly. The elderly woman that stepped inside halted when she caught sight of your boyfriend, frowning deeply as she looked between him and the sign on the door that clearly indicated that it was the ladies’ room.

You bit back an amused giggle, doing your best to look apologetic as Daniel reached for your hand, apologising with laughter in his voice and pulling you along until you both escaped the confines of the restroom.

The both of you couldn’t stop laughing as you made your way back to the table, slipping into your chairs unnoticed because somehow in your absence, the gang had turned even rowdier.

You watched Daniel settle back in his chair across from you, eyes locking onto yours and you hid a smile as one eyelid dropped in a wink. It made your body heat up all over, feeling like a school girl with a crush as you turned your attention somewhere else.

The snort that came from Lily’s mouth sounded way too amused and you glanced at her.

“What?”

“You two are as subtle as a brick through a window.”

You elbowed her. “Shut up.”

Lily hid a laugh behind her hand. “No, no. It’s sweet in a completely gross way.”

You glanced at Daniel, smile impossible to hold back as you watched him throw his head back to bellow out a laugh and it was your favourite sound in the world.

"What can I say? I'm a lucky girl."

[woso-dreamzzz]

Wine Drunk

Hardersson x Future!Reader

Part of the Big Adventures Universe

*Hardersson Smut*

Summary: The idea of you

They've already finished one bottle of wine and are rapidly closing in on their second.

Magda is in that nice haze of tipsiness where she still has control of her body, feeling the rise and fall of Pernille's chest against her own.

"Someone brought their baby to last week's match," Pernille says, sounding equally as tipsy," It was a nice baby."

"Babies are nice," Magda agrees though she's much more preoccupied with subtly spreading Pernille's legs and walking her fingers up her thighs.

"You'd make pretty babies," Pernille giggles, turning her head to capture Magda in a filthy kiss. It's all tongue and slightly sloppy but they're Magda's favourite kind and she digs her fingers into the apex of Pernille's thighs.

"We'd make pretty babies," Magda says as she pulls away. Her fingers dip below Pernille's underwear. They flutter softly over her folds, gathering slick before rubbing circles on her clit.

Pernille stutters out a little moan. It's quiet and Magda wants her to be louder. "We...We would make pretty babies," Pernille agrees as the pressure gets a bit firmer.

Her orgasm comes embarrassingly fast but Pernille can't find it in herself to care because she's eager to return the favour. It had been funny, earlier, when they broke out the wine and immediately stripped out of their trousers to lounge in their underwear. Now though, Pernille's thanking god for the easy access.

She peals down Magda's underwear, following the slow descent with kisses up and down her thighs before she gives kittenish licks over her partner.

Magda's hand shoots out into her hair. She's not pulling just yet but it's firm enough to remind Pernille that she's there.

There's something about Magda that's so enticing and Pernille dives in like a woman starved.

"Ah!" Magda whines as Pernille licks over her, spearing her tongue inside for barely a moment before sucking on her clit. "God!" Her hand tightens in Pernille's hair as she's worked up expertly.

Pernille hums around her clit and the pressure is just perfect.

Magda pulls lightly at her partner's hair as Pernille's nails dig into the flesh around her hip. She ruts into Pernille's face, chasing her own pleasure and Pernille has the decency to go still to allow Magda free reign.

Pernille cleans her up after she comes, taking her time lapping up all of Magda before moving to hover over her. She draws Magda into a sinful kiss, exploring her entire mouth like it's the first time they've been together.

"You must really want that baby," Magda pants out.

"So bad," Pernille whispers against her lips," What about you? Do you want to put a baby in me, Magda?"

Magda pulls away to moan. "God, yes. I'm going to put a baby in you."

"Yeah?" Pernille's grinning like a wolf as she stands, grasping Magda's hand tight and pulling her into the bedroom. "Strap's in the drawer. Lube's there too."

"You're soaking," Magda says as she swiped her finger through Pernille's folds on her way to the drawer," I don't think I need it." It takes her five seconds flat to strap up and suddenly she's spreading Pernille's legs again, lavishing kisses and bites over her chest.

"You're stalling," Pernille giggles, drawing Magda up for a kiss. She's holding the remote for the vibrator Magda's slipped into herself, waving it teasingly. "Do you need some motivation?"

"You're impatient," Magda says back, brushing her strap against Pernille's clit and then down to her entrance," If I'm going to put a baby in you...I want to make it perfect."

She slides home just as Pernille turns the vibe on.

Magda gasps out a stuttering sigh as she begins to thrust. The pressure of the strap on her clit and the setting of the vibe feels just perfect and she reaches for Pernille's hand, lacing their fingers together tightly.

She knows every inch of Pernille. She knows exactly how to angle her strap to hit the best spots and she knows that biting at the shell of her ear really gets her partner going.

Pernille's moans are loud and broken and she wraps her legs around Magda's hips to force her deeper. "You...You want to put a baby in me, Magda?" She pants out, increasing the speed on the vibrator," Yeah? You want to give me a baby? Work for it."

Magda redoubles her effort. It's clear that the liquid courage in Pernille's system is making her more vocal and Magda wants nothing more than to shut her up.

She moves harder, rutting her hips into Pernille and sucking her nipple into her mouth.

She knows Pernille's close when it gets harder to move the strap and she knows that she's getting close by the way that her walls flutter around the vibrator.

"Ma-Magda," Pernille whines, her nails digging deep into Magda's back," Magda!"

Magda grins as her own orgasm washes over her, slumping forward onto Pernille and allowing her partner to bring her down from the high softly.

"I...Magda..."

Magda looks up, confused as to why Pernille suddenly sounds tearful and sad. "Pernille?" She slides out slowly, unstraps herself and reaches up to cradle Pernille's face. "What's wrong?"

"I...I want a baby. A baby with you. A real one."

Suddenly, Magda feels tearful too. She isn't sure if it's all the endorphins in her system or the alcohol but she knows she's about to start crying. "Really?"

Pernille nods. "I want us to have a baby."

"Let's have a baby, then."

[mrsfancyferrari]

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

thank you!!

My Daddy

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

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

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

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

"Straw Hat" Luffy

- was eavesdropping because he smelt food inside the room

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

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

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

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

"What is it?"

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

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

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

"The navigator," you said confidently.

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

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

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

"Probably Luffy,"

"Luffy? Why Luffy?" you repeated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you even know what it means Luffy?"

"Nope,"

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

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

"Really?"

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

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

Nami! How could you tell him! You traitor!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 "Pirate Hunter" Zoro

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

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

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

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

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

"Really? What is it?"

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

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

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

"Being the navigator," you said confidently.

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

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

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

"Probably Zoro,"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Admit what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Black Leg" Sanji

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

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶ ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶ ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

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

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

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

"Really? What is it?"

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

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

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

"Being the navigator," you said confidently.

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

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

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

"Probably Sanji,"

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

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

"What do you mean?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶ ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶ ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I care about you too, Sanji."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[orchidniins]

Do you write for George? If so can we get some smut💋 Loved your first, btw!!!

Island Loving | George Clarke

Summary: You and George are away on holiday, enjoying your time together, but you two can't seem to keep your hands off of each other. Pairings: George Clarke x afab!Reader Warnings: Mature content, Smut, Fluff Word Count: 4.6k A/N: Anon, thanks for the request! This took me so long to write, like I had planned to get this out 2 days ago, but oh well. This is also my first attempt at writing smut so I apologize if it’s a bit awkward. Also, this was originally supposed to be maybe 2k words, but I got carried away. Hope you enjoy!

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"You sure what I packed is enough?", you ask, rummaging through your closet, tossing clothes haphazardly in your attempt to pack for the hot climate.

"You've about packed the whole closet", George remarks, lounging on the edge of your bed. You shoot him a deadpan look as he continues, "We're only going to be there for three days, how many more clothes do you need?" he teases. "Didn't we just go shopping like a week ago?"

"Oh, piss off George," You playfully throw the shirt in your hand at him, hitting him square in the face, which earns a laugh from both of you. In that moment, a rush of gratitude floods over you for the amazing three months you've spent together. From spontaneous adventures to lazy Sundays in bed, every moment with George had felt like a dream and you truly felt like you were the luckiest girl.

You and George were friends before you started dating, and while you've been on group trips before, this would be the first time it's just the two of you. So when George surprised you with tickets to the Maldives for your birthday, excitement and anxiety swirled within you.

"You know what? I give up," you declare, throwing your hands up in defeat as you survey the chaotic scene in your closet.

As you start picking up the scattered clothing, George chuckles and joins in, the laughter lightening the mood. Despite the nagging feeling that you might have forgotten something, excitement bubbles within you at the thought of uninterrupted time with George. Both of you had been busy, making this getaway a much-needed break. And let's face it, having a shirtless George around all the time was a definite bonus.

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As the sun began to set, painting the sky with vibrant hues of orange and pink, you and George lounged in the pool, the cool water providing relief from the day's heat. Earlier, you had spent the day exploring the stunning beaches of the Maldives, George's laughter echoed through the air as you both raced each other along the shoreline, the warm tropical breeze tousling your hair.

It was late afternoon, as you relaxed in the pool, George's toned physique glistened in the fading sunlight, his abs defined and glistening with droplets of water. He looked effortlessly handsome, and you couldn't help but admire the way the sunlight danced across his chiseled features. Leaning back against the edge of the pool, you watched as George swam towards you, his crystal blue eyes locking with yours.

"You know," he murmured, his voice sending shivers down your spine, "I could get used to this view." His words were accompanied by a playful grin, and you couldn't resist teasing him in return.

"Is that so?" you replied, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you swam closer to him, your heart racing with anticipation. George's gaze softened as he drew nearer.

"Are we still the only one's here?", you question, scanning the area. You had been the only ones around the pool for hours now; the last few people leaving over two hours ago. George's gaze doesn't falter though, remaining fixed on you.

George closes the distance between you, the gentle rippling of the water drawing your attention back to him. An inaudible gasp leaves you mouth at the sensation of a hard muscle pressing into the space between your thighs, sending a wave of heat surging through your body.

His hands find their way around your waist, pulling you irresistibly closer, while his lips hover just inches away from yours. Your fingers trace the contours of his toned chest, feeling the warmth emanating from his skin. The tension between you was palpable, each breath charged with desire as you both leaned in for a kiss, igniting a fiery passion that consumed you both in a haze of longing and heat.

The heat of the pool seemed to intensify as your lips move in perfect harmony, the throbbing sensation between your legs growing more intense with each passing second. Despite the empty pool area, the possibility of an unsuspecting guest or hotel staff member stumbling upon your heated makeout session added an exhilarating edge to the moment, igniting a daring boldness within you as you contemplated just how far you could push George.

You trail your hands down his chest, savoring the sensation of his hard physique beneath your fingertips. George responds with a bite to your bottom lip, eliciting a low moan from you.

Your right hand moves down to rest right at the hem of his swim trunks, frozen there for a moment as feel George's lips disconnect from yours and attach to your neck instead. He begins to roughly suck at the soft, supple skin at the crook of your neck, leaving a dark red mark in the process.

You continue to tease him, relishing in the reaction he was giving you. You feel yourself getting wetter at the sounds of the deep guttural groans that escape his lips as your fingertips brush over his clothed cock. His groans get louder as he feels the constricting cloth of his swim trunks rub against his erection.

Your palm rubs harder at the bulge in his trunks, driving George absolutely crazy, and he hadn't even gotten his cock out of his trunks yet. George's grip on your waist gets tighter, his nails slightly digging into your side, the slight pain makes you wince in pleasure.

With a smirk playing on your lips, you pull away, moving your hand away from his cock and placing your hands on his shoulders, pushing him away gently. Your flushed face betrays the mix of afternoon heat and the arousal coursing through your body.

George protests, his voice husky with desire, "Don't test me, love."

You look at him innocently, a mischievous glint in your eyes, "What are you talking about? It's getting late, and we have other things to do. Come on," you say, slightly moving back in the water.

You turn around and confidently walk to the ladder, pulling yourself out of the pool giving George an enticing view of your glistening skin and the curve of your ass in your skimpy bikini bottom. You make sure to look back at him over your shoulder as you grab your towel and walk off, completely unfazed, leaving George hard and needy in the pool.

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The rest of the day had flown by quickly, and now the two of you were getting ready to go out for your birthday dinner. You were all but expecting George to get you back for the scene at the pool, but so far, nothing ha happened.

You stood in front of the mirror, applying the final touches to your makeup. You were absolutely in love with your look; You had on a midi-length blue silky dress, its low back and plunging neckline accentuated your figure exquisitely and the thin fabric was an absolute god send in the hot Maldives' climate.

Meanwhile, George leaned casually against the bathroom door frame, already dressed in a linen shirt and a pair of olive slacks. His intense gaze followed your every move. To him, you looked nothing short of a goddess, and he still couldn’t believe how the hell he had managed to pull you.

“You look stunning tonight Angel”, George says as he walks into the bathroom, coming to stand behind you. Your dress did not leave much room for the imagination, or a bra, and he couldn’t resist the urge to touch you. As great as that dress looked on you, he thought it would look even better pooled around your ankles.

“Thanks Georgie, ” you replied, leaning closer to the mirror, focused on your eyeliner.

As George’s hands come up to rest on your hips, you straighten up, your exposed back coming in contact with his firm chest. The proximity makes you aware of just how close he had gotten. You look into the mirror for a second, catching George’s eyes locked on yours, his eyes dark and filled with unbridled lust.

It was a look you knew all too well. That hungry look was all you needed to know that George was extremely horny right now and that was enough to send the blood rushing down to your bundle of nerves.

Whenever he got like this, he tried to get as close to you as humanly possible, craving any form of physical touch. And when he called you "Angel", you knew there would be no reasoning with the man, especially after that stunt you had pulled earlier today.

His hands start moving up and down your waist, sending shivers down your spine. Though you had no intention of missing your reservation (which was very hard to get, by the way), you still wanted to see what else you could possibly get away with.

You lean down again, this time to put on your lip liner, subtly pushing your hips back ever so slightly more than before. You become acutely aware of the growing hardness pressing against your ass and his grip on your hips becomes tighter, confirming your previous suspicion.

George leans forward, brushing your hair to the side, and starts to gently pepper kisses along your back, the sensation leaving a delightful tingle through your body.

You stand up again, pretending to go through your makeup bag, doing your best to maintain a neutral expression on your face. Suddenly, you hear George let out a low chuckle from behind you. He leans down and whispers in your ear, "I know what you're doing," before placing a a few kisses behind your ear.

As George's warm breath tickles your ear, a delightful shiver courses through your body. He turns you around, your back pressing against the counter, his intense gaze locking with yours. A charged silence fills the air, thick with anticipation and desire.

"You've been doing this all day," George murmurs, his voice heavy with want. "Be careful there angel. Don't tease me if you can't handle the consequences of your little game." Your heart races at his words. With a subtle smirk, you lean in closer, unable to resist the magnetic pull between you.

He takes hold of your chin, tilting it upwards, the warmth of your skin under his fingertips sending a jolt of electricity through his body. You meet his gaze with a challenge in your eyes, your voice dripping with playful defiance as you taunt, "Oh, and what consequences might those be, Georgie?" Your hand rises, fingertips lightly brushing the flesh revealed by the unbuttoned shirt, teasing your boyfriend further.

You run your hands down his clothed abs, settling right above the hem of trousers. But before you could move down any further, he places his hand over yours, halting your movements. "Well, let's just say," he begins, guiding your hand to place it on the counter next to you while you grip his shoulder with your other hand "keep testing me and you might just find out."

A surge of eagerness courses through you at his words, and you playfully roll your eyes, trying to mask the effect he has on you. "Is that a promise or a threat?" you challenge, though your heart races with excitement.

With a devilish grin, George leans in closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. "Why don't you stick around and find out?" he murmurs, the air between you crackling with tension.

"I'd love to, but we have a dinner to get to," you say, slowly pushing at his chest, not wanting George to get his way so easily. But then, As George pulls you closer by the waist, your breath hitches, your back arching as you grab onto his shoulders to steady yourself. "Nice try." Before you can protest, he closes the distance between you, his lips engulfing you in an intense kiss, fueled by the tension building throughout the day.

He hoists you up onto the counter, his movements assertive yet gentle, as he deepens the kiss. You feel his tongue slip into your mouth and your hands move up to tug at his hair. You feel George's low groan reverberating through the kiss, adding to the intensity of the moment, all thoughts of dinner slipping away from your mind.

His lips travelled down to your neck, leaving a wet trail of kisses along the sensitive skin, each kiss only intensifying the need to want his lips someplace else. He kisses the hickey he had left earlier that day, sucking a little extra hard on the already sore skin. A moan louder than you intended left you lips and you could feel the bastard smirk against your skin.

His hands bunched up your dress, almost hiking it up to your waist, as George dug his fingers into the soft exposed flesh of your things. His fingertips traced a slow antagonizing path towards the place you needed him the most. As his fingers brushed against the fabric of your panties, he remarks with with a smirk, "Already soaking wet, are we?", The mere friction through your underwear was enough to weaken you, turning you into putty in his hands.

You hum in response, bucking your hips forward, craving more friction and pressure against your aching core. “Slow down there angel, I haven't even gotten started with you yet." he says in a low voice.

George gently lifts you up and slides your panties down to your ankles, taking them off and throwing them to the side, the cool air now hitting your exposed cunt. Suddenly, George's hands grip tightly behind yours knees, spreading your legs wider, pushing you back, your back now hitting the sink. "Fuck," you gasp, as he starts kissing his way closer and closer to your core. Each kiss and bite on the skin of your inner thighs intensifies the anticipation, making you wetter than you already were.

George's gaze fixates on your glistening wet cunt, his pants getting tighter just at the sight. With a hungry determination, his fingers spread apart your slick folds, "George…fuck," you moan as his tongue licks one long stroke up your throbbing clit, your entire body shivers involuntarily.

His tongue dives into you swollen clit, nipping and sucking at your sensitive core, sending jolts of ecstasy through your body, absolutely wrecking you with just his mouth. He flattens his tongue, expertly lapping at your folds, alternating with rough sucking motions. The sensation ignites intense pleasure throughout your body, and the friction of his beard against your clit sends electrifying waves coursing through you. As you throw your head back in pleasure, your hands glide down the collar of his shirt to grasp onto his back, your nails digging into the firm muscles of his shoulders, eliciting a low moan from George.

The lewd sounds of him absolutely devouring your pussy mix in with your gasping breaths filling the bathroom with an intoxicating symphony of desire.

"I-I…" you manage to gasp, your voice shaky as you struggle to form a coherent sentence. Your body trembles from the relentless jabs of his skilled tongue against your clit.

"Can't hear you love," George's murmurs from between your thighs, the vibrations causing a delicious hum to resonate through your folds, intensifying the pleasure pulsing within you.

"God, George! I'm so close," you stare down at him, utterly aroused by the sheer amount of power that this man had over you. You're dangerously close to the edge, feeling the impending release of your orgasm ready to spill over at any moment.

He could feel your legs trembling beneath his fingers. The dirty noises spilling out of you pretty mouth only pushed George to continue abusing your cunt. As he listens to you writhe and moan in desperate need, it's not enough to simply pleasure you with his tongue anymore; he wants more. He wanted to make sure you were fucked out properly, especially after the ordeal you had put him through.

With one final lick to your clit, he pulls away, leaving your pussy trembling. George then places his arms on the counter on either side of you, leaning in to meet you at eye level. You stare at him panting, cheeks flushed and a dumbfounded look on your face. "George.." you whined his name at the loss of contact, the cool air once again hits your now neglected cunt.

"Alright then, angel, get yourself fixed up", he says, his voice dripping with playful authority as he points in the direction he tossed your panties. "We have a reservation to get to." With a teasing smirk, he walks off into the bedroom. "Go on, finish getting ready, I'm waiting.", his words hang in the air, leaving you in a state of both frustration and arousal. There was an ache in your core that could only be satisfied by his touch.

You contemplate for a second, weighing if your pride was worth the sexual frustration for the rest of the night. It didn't take you long to make the decision, "Oh for fucks sakes George", you exclaim, your annoyance evident as you roll your eyes and scream out in frustration, "Get back in here, you wanker!" You wait for a moment, anticipation building, before George came back into view, a cocky smirk playing on his lips as he stands with his arms crossed over his chest.

"That's not how this is gonna work angel," George's words send a shiver down your spine, "If you want it, beg." the command in his voice igniting a fiery need within you. Pushing yourself off the counter, your legs shake as you step onto the cold bathroom floor. George watches you with a proud smirk, his eyes gleaming with want.

You slowly pad over to him, feeling the intensity of his gaze as you approach. Meeting him just outside the bathroom, you reach out, placing a hand on his chest, your fingers brushing lightly against his skin as you look up at him with hooded eyes. "George, please…" you begin, your voice thick with desire, but he remains silent, waiting for more.

"George, please… fuck me," you plead, your words dripping with longing as you meet his gaze. The air thick with tension between you two.

Your desperation draws a satisfied smirk to his face. He would have loved hearing you beg for longer, reveling in the power it gave him over you. However, the undeniable arousal stirring in his pants demanded immediate attention, and at this point, he couldn't resist the urge to simply lose himself in the act of fucking you.

George's lips attach to yours in a sense of urgency. He grabs onto your waist as he pushes you against the wall. "Jump," George says. Without hesitation, you obediently wrap your legs around him, your body responding instinctively to his dominant tone. His hands slide beneath your ass, supporting you effortlessly as he kneads your flesh. The kiss is raw and primal. Your hands instinctively come around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him closer.

The strap of your dress slips off in the heat of the moment. George seizes the opportunity, pushing the dress further down, exposing your breasts to the cool air of the room. A soft gasp escapes your lips at the sudden exposure, sending a thrill through your body.

His hands trail up to cup one of your tits, giving it a firm squeeze. George attaches his hot mouth to your bare breast, swirling his tongue around the nipple. You moan in response, your back arching instinctively as you press your tit into his face, craving more of his intoxicating touch.

"George…" you gasp between heated kisses, "I need you right now." With a sense of urgency, you unbutton his shirt. As his shirt falls away, your hands freely roam his body, tracing the lines of his muscular form before settling on his large biceps, feeling their strength beneath your touch. George leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, "You have no idea how much I've been craving you all day" he murmurs, his voice filled with hunger.

"Just fuck me already," you plead, starting to get more and more impatient. With a swift motion, George gathers you in his arms, carrying you effortlessly to the bed.

George lowers you down on the edge of the bed, your lips still locked in a fervent kiss. He reluctantly beaks away, feeling your lips chasing his, not ready to break your kiss just yet.

With a tender touch, he assists you in removing your dress, which had become bunched up around your waist. He steps back a bit as he begins to unbuckle his belt, you eagerly help him, your fingers unbuttoning his pants and discarding them to the side, leaving him clad only in his boxers.

Your eyes can't help but wander to the bulge straining against the fabric, his cock hard and throbbing with desire, a visible wet spot on his boxers from the precum. With a soft moan, you find yourself unable to resist reaching out to trace the outline of his arousal, your touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his body.

He nudges you back slightly, and you eagerly comply, crawling further onto the bed, the desire to have him close reaching its peak. As you sit up on your arms, you take a moment to admire him, your eyes locking in a silent exchange filled with mutual appreciation and desire. George's gaze shamelessly roams your naked body, his admiration evident in every lingering glance.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever laid my eyes on Y/N," George says, his voice filled with genuine admiration. But to you, he was the epitome of beauty itself. In the dimly lit bedroom, illuminated only by the moonlight streaming through the windows, George looked like a Greek god, his sculpted abs, broad chest and shoulders, and thick, toned legs rendered him utterly irresistible. While it wasn't the first time you had seen him naked, it never ceased to amaze you just how perfect he truly was.

With his eyes locked on yours, George takes his boxers off, his hard cock springing out, finally free from its confines. The tip red and glistening with precum. He takes it in his hand and gives it a few good pumps. George then strides over to his open suitcase, retrieving a condom with a sense of relief that he had packed a whole box. He rips open the packet and slides it onto his length.

With a hungry gaze, he crawls onto the bed, making his way over to you. With a firm yet gentle touch, he pushes your legs apart, settling himself between them, ready to indulge in the passion that awaits.

He rubs the tip of his cock along your soaking folds, "George", you moan out at the sensation, hands digging into his biceps, urging him closer. George's mouth trails along your collarbone, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses that send tingles of pleasure courses through your body.

Without further warning, George slams into you in one powerful thrust, eliciting a strangled groan from your lips as euphoric bliss floods your senses. As he bottoms out inside you, pausing momentarily to let you adjust to his girth, a wave of pleasure washes over you. Even though he hadn't started moving yet, you already felt your orgasm on the brink of spilling over.

George grabs ahold of your hips, his grip firm as he presses your body against the mattress, each thrust sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. The pace of his movements drives you crazy, your mind consumed with the overwhelming sensation of him inside you. "Holy shit, George," you moan out, the intensity of the moment turning you into a trembling, moaning mess.

Hearing his name on your lips sends George into a frenzy, his own desire matching yours as he speeds up his pace, each movement becoming more urgent, more primal. Your hands clutch at the sheets, knuckles turning white from the force of your grip as you surrender to the pleasure that consumes you both.

One of your legs instinctively wraps around his waist, drawing him closer to you as your hands come up to his back, pulling him close. You revel in the feeling of his weight pressing against you. As he thrusts faster against you, your whimpering moans fill the room.

"Fuck, you feel so good, Y/N," George moans, his voice laced with lust. "You take me so well, such a good girl." he moans. His words have you involuntarily clenching around him. The sensation elicits a groan from George, the pleasure of your tightness driving him closer to the edge as well.

The sensation builds with every thrust of his hips, each movement edging you towards your orgasm. "George, I'm going to c-cum, shit," you moan, the words escaping your lips in a breathless plea. Despite your impending release, his thrusts don't cease, his intensity driving you wild.

You can't think straight anymore, lost in the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you. "Fuck, please, I can't take it anymore… I’m so close," you whimper, pulling closer to the blissful release that only George can provide.

Your voice quickly begins chanting his name along with broken moans, intermingled with George's own broken groans as his thrusts start to become sloppier, signaling that he too was teetering on the edge.

Every muscle in your body tenses, your back arching as you're overwhelmed by your impending release. "Fuck, George, you feel so good inside me… George, ahh!!" you cry out, your release a raw moan as your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, leaving you seeing stars.

George continues his relentless pace, allowing you to ride out your orgasm. As your climax peaks, George follows closely behind, his release filling the condom with warmth as he screams out your name in pure pleasure, "Shit, Y/N!" The room fills up with a mixture of your moans as you both come down from your highs.

With that, George collapses over you, balancing his weight on his arms to ensure he doesn't crush you. Both of your bodies are covered in sweat, chests heaving against each other. His face nuzzles into your neck, and for a moment, you both stay quiet, just listening to the pounding of his heart—a melody to your ears.

You're the first to break the silence. "I should tease you more often," you say with a playful grin.

George pushes up to look at you, a playful smile dancing on his lips as he replies, "Don't even think about it, love." With a gentle motion, he pulls out of you and lands next to you.

With a contented sigh, George pulls you onto his chest, his arms wrapping around your shoulders, his hand gently playing with your hair. "Did you have a good birthday love?" he asks softly.

You look up at him and smile, "Yes, I did, Georgie. Thank you" you reply, placing a peck on his chest, feeling warmth spread through your heart as he sweetly kisses you on your forehead.

"Well, there's no way that we are going to be able to make it to our reservation," you laugh, acknowledging the obvious.

George chuckles in agreement, then asks, "Room service?"

You look at him and nod, "Room service."

The two of you spend the rest of your evening cuddling and enjoying your dinner overlooking the water from the outdoor seating area of your villa. The soft glow of the moonlight casts a romantic ambiance over the scene, creating a perfect backdrop for your special evening, knowing that you couldn't have asked for a more perfect birthday with a more perfect man.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A/N: God, I suck at endings. I've been so stressed at work recently and all I can think about is going on vacation, it's all my brain let me write about. Also, Thank you to everyone who has been sending me requests, I'm absolutely loving all the ideas, keep em' coming!

Check out my other fics and oneshots here. Requests are currently open!! Or just drop in for a chat! 😊

[cloudybarnes]

Private Encounters

Pairing: Cardan Greenbriar x reader

Summary: you were tired of Cardan constantly attacking you and your friends. one day, though, Cardan asks to speak with you privately, and no good things could come from the prince of elfhame wanting to speak with you with no one else around

Word Count: 2.4k

Masterlist

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"Hurry up, you guys! We're gonna be late again!" Taryn whisper-shouted as you and Jude trailed behind her towards the courtyard.

Usually, you two went alone on your adventures, but Taryn decided she wanted to be spontaneous, too, and wanted to join along. Unfortunately, she didn't seem to have that much fun, and urged you back to class almost as soon as you got there.

"Who cares if we're late?" Jude rolled her eyes. "It's not like anyone would really care."

"Just because they don't like us, doesn't mean I want to draw their attention. Who knows what they'll do." Taryn shifted the picnic basket of food between her hands, nervously. She was always the most cautious of you three; always fearing what they would say or do to you guys.

You scoffed, "Taryn, let's be real. Even if we were there on time and minded our own business, Cardan and his little fanclub would still find some reason to bother us."

Jude chuckled, "he's so insufferable. What I wouldn't do to wipe that idiotic grin off his face."

You laughed, "I'm right there with you. It's like his greatest pleasure is being annoying."

"I don't know." Taryn slows her speed walk to match pace with Jude and I. "I feel like Cardan mostly has it out for you, now, (Y/N)."

You rolled my eyes.

"Oh yeah," Jude agreed. "Ever since we became friends, he's like diverted the hatred for us onto you."

You laughed, "Wow, thanks guys. Who knew being your friend would make a prince despise me."

Jude laughed too. "I don't think it was all our fault. You're human, so he would have hated you anyway."

"That's so reassuring, thanks for that."

Jude smirked, "anytime."

When we finally emerged onto the courtyard where class was taking place, most everyone ignored you, save for the professor.

"Ah," he said, "nice of you three to join us. Please find a seat so we can continue on with our lessons of astronomy."

Taryn bowed her head to keep from looking at anyone. You noticed Jude did not bow her head, but she would not look at the other students.

You, however, must be an idiot to not follow along with them, because your gaze falls straight to Cardan, who is staring back at you with much ferocity.

As the even bigger idiot you are, you do not avert your gaze, but simply glare back at him. To that, and small, devilish grin grows on his face. It almost seems like an invite of this little game you play. He hates you and your friends, goes out of his way to torment you three, and for that, you refuse to back down. Sometimes, you think he likes that you fight him so much.

"(Y/N)," Taryn calls, quietly as to avoid too much attention. She waves you over. Only then do you realize you've been staring at Cardan so long that Jude and Taryn have already set up the blanket and started spreading out the food.

Your cheeks heat as you walk the few feet to where they are sitting. You can hear Cardan snicker as you walk past him and Nicasia.

"What were you thinking!" Taryn scolds as you finally sit down on the blanket. Your professor continues with his lecture, but you don't even bother to pay attention to him.

You shrug, "I'm not really sure. I just can't stand him so much it makes me crazy."

Jude laughs at that. "I'm so glad we're friends, (Y/N). I think I'd go crazy if I didn't have someone else to share my hatred for Cardan with."

You giggle, "well it's a good thing I'm here, then, huh?"

"I don't think anyone is happy you're here."

Looking up from where you're sitting, you see Nicasia and Cardan looming down over you. Seems like the lesson is over as everyone else has abandoned the courtyard.

"Oh, Nicasia, always a pleasure." You rolled your eyes as you stood up. Behind you, you hear the shuffling of Jude standing and pulling Taryn up with here. "To what do we owe you coming over here and bothering us for?"

She smirked, "I have no reason for being near you filthy mortals other than to make sure you stay in your place. You don't belong here. You're frail, and worthless, and someone needs to remind you of that."

You mocked her with a laugh, "is that really all you've got?"

Taryn let out a quiet gasp.

Nicasia narrowed her eyes. "What did you say?"

You shrugged. "All I'm saying is you give the same excuse every time you come over here. 'I'm putting you in your place', 'make sure you know what a worthless mortal you are'. Blah, blah, blah. It's very redundant, Nicasia, and quite truthfully, it's just tiresome." You said condescendingly.

The fire is her eyes was hot. Her fists balled at her side as she glared at you.

Now, it's not like you were looking for trouble, or that you wanted anything bad to happen to you or your friends. You just could not stand the way she and Cardan always came over to you and caused problems.

The slap was expected. Your cheek burned as Nicasia's hand left your face. Taryn couldn't hold back the very audible gasp that left her lips. Looking back to your friends, Taryn looked utterly frightened, and Jude looked angrier than you'd ever seen her.

Right as Nicasia was about to slap you again, Cardan interrupted her.

"Nicasia," Cardan warned as he lifted his hand, "that is quite enough."

You scoffed. "Oh, and since when are you ever the peace maker?"

Cardan smirked, "Since Nicasia decided she was going to slap you. I quite like your face the way it is."

All heads turned to Cardan as he said that. Nicasia looked hurt, Taryn looked almost as confused as you felt, and Jude just looked disgusted.

You narrowed my eyes at Cardan, despite your confusion. "What games are you playing at, Greenbriar?"

His eyebrows shot up in delightful surprise. A cheeky smirk playing on his lips. "I have no games, (Y/L/N)." He spat out your last name like it disgusted but also intrigued him.

He looked between Nicasia, Jude and Taryn. "You, leave us. I have a few words for (Y/N)."

Jude and Taryn looked at each other, confused and contemplating if they should leave or not. You stood your ground though.

"I'll be fine, guys. I'll just meet you back at Madoc's, okay?" You tried to reassure them, though you weren't exactly sure what you were getting yourself into. All you knew was that you didn't want Cardan to know he frightened you.

Jude nodded her head. "We won't be far. And Cardan," she turned to him, "if you so much as touch one hair on her head, I will-"

"Oh relax, would you, Jude? Always resolving your issues with murder." Cardan rolled his eyes. "Leave us. Now."

Jude glared at Cardan before turning to you and giving you a reassuring look. Just as quickly, she turned away and pulled Taryn off with her.

"And you," Cardan said as he turned to Nicasia. "I believe I ordered you away, as well."

Nicasia looked shocked. "Me? Why would I need to be sent away? Whatever punishment you have for the way she spoke to me, I want-"

"Leave, Nicasia. I won't ask you again."

Stunned, Nicasia's mouth hung open just slightly as she looked between you and Cardan. With a 'hmph', Nicasia turned on her heel and strutted away, leaving behind just Cardan and you.

The two of you stood there in silence. You gazed up at him, trying to decipher why he could possibly want to speak with you alone. Maybe he wants to kill you. Maybe he's grown tired of this cat and mouse game you have going on.

"What do you want, Cardan?"

He smirked, and took a daring step closer to you. "I just wanted to talk with you. You're... interesting. I find you intriguing to say the least."

You raised my brow in confusion. "You find me intriguing? Now I know you're toying with me. What do you really want, Cardan?"

He scoffed. "Is it that hard for you to admit that I might find you interesting?"

"How interesting could I possibly be? I'm mortal, remember? Can't believe you would forget, not after you and your friends made it your entire personalities to constantly remind me of my mortality and how worthless you believe me to be."

Cardan's smirk only grew. "You are quite right. You're mortal. Mortals by nature are fragile, slow, susceptible to our tricks, and yet you seem to be quite the opposite."

Your eyebrows shot up, completely shocked by this sort-of compliment you just received from the Prince of Elfhame.

Cardan continued before you could even get a word out. "I dislike mortals quite a bit. I think they are weak. They have little skill that is worth anything, and they are often succumbed to the nature of our people. You, however, are quite different, (Y/N)."

He took a tender step closer to you. Your breath was caught in your throat. Cardan had never shown any type of interest in you. You thought he'd never actually shown anything other than disgust towards you, but maybe you were wrong.

Maybe all of those teasing smirks and cruel comments were him testing you, trying to figure out just how far he could push you.

"You've stood up to me. You've been given every chance to back down. I've seen how far you are willing to go to defend yourself and those little friends of yours. I find it admirable in a way."

You force out a laugh. "You find it admirable? Everything you consider so 'strong' and 'admirable' about me is what I've had to do to survive this place. You've done nothing but make living here just that much harder than it already is for mortals."

You strode closer to Cardan, persistence on your face. His eyes widened slightly, but the daring smirk never faltered from his lips.

Just as you two were chest to chest, you spoke, "answer now, Cardan, what is it you really wanted to tell me?"

"I've already told you, (Y/N). I think you're admirable. I think you're intriguing. I think there is something about you that keeps drawing me in. Something so pulling, it's frustrating how much I think of you."

No words left your mouth. How could they when your jaw laid open the way it was.

Cardan chuckled. "Now, another reason I wanted you here. I must ask: I know you mortals can lie, something we folk can not do, but how are you so good at pretending?"

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly. "Pretending?"

Cardan's smirk only grew, "pretending you aren't in love with me, that is."

The world had stopped. It felt like your entire world had shattered. This was quite possibly the last thing you thought Cardan would get you alone for.

Anyone with eyes could see that Cardan Greenbriar was gorgeous. All of his kind were gorgeous, but he had exceptional beauty. Beside that, you couldn't find one characteristic about him that you had liked. Sure, maybe he stopped Nicasia from hurting you further than she would have. And by the way Jude recalled his cruelty before they met you, it seemed to have subsided quite a bit since you met him. That still doesn't change the fact that he is cruel, and has been for a long time.

"Cat got your tongue?"

You shook your head clear from your thoughts. "No. Just confused how you could possibly think I would be in love with you."

"You want to know how I know you're in love with me, despite what you might believe?" Cardan grinned and closed the already small space between you two. "Because I know how insufferable you find me. I know how I get under your skin, how you lay awake thinking of how much you hate me. I know this because I feel the same towards you, and despite my feelings of irritation with you, I still find myself completely infatuated by you."

"You are?" You questioned, voice so quiet you might barely have heard it, but Cardan sure did.

He grinned. "Oh, yes. I have been infatuated with you from the moment I laid eyes on you. I wasn't lying earlier when I told Nicasia I'd like her to leave your face the way it is. I think you are pretty for a mortal. You give off this glow and iridescence. You are unlike any other mortal I've come across. The way you've kept me up at night, the way I am excited to see you just to have our little spat had me confused for the longest time. Eventually, I just couldn't take it anymore and I’ve decided to act on it."

You couldn't take it anymore. Everything Cardan said resonated so deeply with you. Somehow he knew exactly how you felt. The way you hated him, the way you were angry with yourself when you thought of him so often, everything he said he felt is exactly what you were going through as well.

You decided, if Cardan was going to act on his confusing feelings, you would act on yours as well.

Already chest to chest, you reached up and gripped Cardan hair, tight enough to hurt, and kissed him with all of the pent up anger and hatred for him you had.

If Cardan was surprised, he didn't seem it. He gripped onto your waist and kissed you back with so much ferocity it made your knees weak.

It was hot, and it was unlike any kiss you've ever had before. Kissing Cardan was unleashing something so deep inside of you. All of your confused feelings for him wrapped up all into a long-awaited kiss.

Gasping for air, you and Cardan separated, though not fully. While you were no longer kissing, you had yet to pull your fingers from the tangles of his hair, and he had no plans of letting go of his hold on your waist.

"I still hate you," you said breathlessly.

Cardan smiled, he actually smiled and replied, "I think I hate you more."

[bloodmoonmuses]

sun-faded youth; shimmering potentiality | choi beomgyu

genre: choi beomgyu x reader, childhood friends to lovers, angst (like, wayyy more angsty than I anticipated lol), eventual fluff

wc: 3.2k

warnings: some swearing, mentions of food

summary: one day, after disappearing from your life for three years, beomgyu returns to place in which you grew to love him most: your childhood home.

The sun faded wallpaper of your childhood home would be remembered as the backdrop to your early morning adventures. Clad in your Princess Belle costume and Beomgyu in his Superman cape, the two of you wake to brave the world. Side by side, as always.

You and Beomgyu are alike in every way. You like the same foods (applesauce and goldfish crackers). You like the same TV shows (Spongebob). You like the same activities (drawing and playing make-believe). You like the same time of day (morning). Every Saturday, Beomgyu would come over to your house for breakfast. While your mother made blueberry pancakes, the two of you would craft.

You remember one day in particular, the memory wrinkling at the edges like a withering flower:

Strewn haphazardly across the living room is an array of crafting materials. Crayons, glitter, colorful paper, magazine scraps- it almost resembles a candy shop in how colorful it all is. Beomgyu snatches a glue stick away from you, using it to paste some torn pieces of newspaper to his hodge-podge of an art project. Picking up a pair of scissors, he cuts a few notches out of the top of the paper, making triangular peaks. His little hands can barely hold the scissors. They’re clunky in his grasp.

Despite his small hands, Beomgyu is quite tall for a 6 year old. Your eyes drift to your heights etched into the archway. A red line at age 2: You’re about 3 feet tall. Beomgyu is 3 and a half feet tall. A blue line at 4 years old: You’ve barely grown. Beomgyu has doubled in size. Most recently, there’s only an inch difference in your height. You’re finally catching up to him. 

When satisfied with his embellishments, Beomgyu bends the paper and glues the ends together. He holds up his creation gleefully, wearing a huge grin that’s toothy in the best way.

“It’s a crown,” he declares, voice buoyant and as clear as a bell. 

“Make me one too!” You demand.

Beomgyu crosses his arms and pouts. “You can’t be a prince!” he says. "I’m a prince.”

You roll your eyes at him. Boys are so simple, as your mom always said. Your best friend was no exception. “I wanna be a Queen, Beomgyu. It’s different.”

“Nuh-Uh!” He shakes his head furiously.

“Yuh-huh!” you contest. 

“You’re full of it,” Beomgyu says. He turns away from you, placing the crown on his own head triumphantly. 

You talk at his back. “Queens are, like, more better than princes, silly.”

At this, Beomgyu promptly turns back around, still grinning with his pouty lips. In all honesty, arguing was his favorite pastime. He liked seeing you riled up. “Meanie,” he says.

“Stupid,” you retort, jabbing a finger into his chest.

“Nerd.” Beomgyu sticks his tongue out at you. How princely, you think.

“Loser-”

“Time for breakfast!” your mom calls out from the kitchen. 

The memory dissipates, like mist momentarily illuminated by a ray of sunlight only to then disappear into the sloth of a summer day. You try to grasp onto it, but with each passing day it more so resembles a daydream than a lived experience. All you have left is the occasional recounting of your youth with your mother. 

Sometimes, you wish you didn’t remember Beomgyu at all.

It’s the summer before your senior year of college. You’re back in the same home you grew up in. Your mother refused to sell the house, even after all these years. In many ways, you’re grateful for this. In others, it makes you angry. Beomgyu hasn’t spoken to you since highschool graduation. It’s been three years. A part of you thought he’d drift back to you eventually. He knew where you lived. He knew where to find you. But he never came.

“Have you heard from Gyu?” Your mother would often ask.

You were never sure where it all went wrong. You loved him as much as you could possibly love someone without literally fusing into their form. Your eyes beheld the same stars as his but saw different constellations. Hearts that once followed the same rhythm were now out of sync. Your love couldn’t scale the distance. It couldn’t withstand the time, or weather the storm of your respective metamorphoses. When the flood passed, the clouds parted and the sun emerged, you weren’t gifted a prophetic rainbow. Instead, you were left with nothing. 

“What do you think?” You’d always say, venom lacing your tongue.

Your mother looked at you with softened eyes. “Sore subject?”

“Yeah. Sore subject.”

Regardless of your fluctuating bitterness, being home did bring you comfort to some degree. You liked being shrouded in familiarity. Per the tradition, albeit without Beomgyu, you and your mother are making pancakes. There’s a wordless groove between the two of you, your mother measuring out the ingredients while you mix them accordingly. When the consistency is to your liking, you gently fold blueberries into the batter.

As you’re reaching for a pan, there’s a knock at the door. Well, four knocks. You hear Beomgyu’s voice in your head: A fourth to let you know it’s me. 

It can’t be. There’s no way. Last time you checked, Beomgyu wouldn’t be back in town for another week. (Not that you’ve been stalking his socials or anything like that.) 

Your mom dusts her hands off on her apron, then walks to answer the door. You remain in the kitchen, stricken with something you’ve never felt before. It feels as though you’re in quicksand, sinking into the floor beneath you.

“Gyuie! My little pumpkin, it’s been so long!”  It’s really him. The gleeful timbre of your mother’s voice makes you nauseous. She doesn’t sound like a real person.  How she can just pick up where they left off is beyond you. She doesn’t know of the guilt, the shame, the confusion that you’ve been harboring for the past few years. You’re sodden with pain.

When you walk into his line of vision, Beomgyu freezes, but only for a second. “I’m still taller than you,” he says. There’s a smirk dancing on his lips. Typical.

You’re instantly transported to your younger self, so full of admiration for him. Looking up to him- both physically and figuratively. He’s in a black tee and baggy jeans, looking laid back and nonchalant. Except, you know better. His nose is twitching, a tell that he’s actually a bit nervous. He’s grown into his face. His eyes are just as bright as you remember them. You’re happy to see that his spark isn’t gone. Then, that fondness twists into something hot- liquid and molten at the pit of your stomach. You wash away your distorted reverie, stepping back into your body. 

You see Beomgyu eye the archway of the living room. The height markings have been painted over.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.  It’s all you can bring yourself to say. There’s a bite to your tone, one that you don’t expend much effort concealing, and Beomgyu looks visibly wounded. He quickly recovers, scrunching his nose as he takes your anger on the chin. 

“I was in the neighborhood.” 

You hear shuffling behind you and turn to see your mother gathering her belongings. “I’m gonna head to the grocery store. Forgot to get bacon to go with the pancakes.” She grabs her purse and walks to the entryway. “Put the pancake batter in the fridge. Beomgyu, you know you’re always welcome here. Be good, kiddos.” 

When she exits, the door slamming with such finality that it rattles your bones, you stand there in silence. No words are exchanged, but his eyes are saying so much. They’re swirling with a mixture of hurt, embarrassment and yearning. You look away.

“I’m sorry,” Beomgyu says. “I really am.”

You want to speak, but the words never come. Not when you need them most. Regardless, Beomgyu isn’t one to back down. “I wanted to see you. I’ve missed-”

“Don’t,” you say, cutting him off. More silence follows.

Beomgyu pivots. “Is the treehouse still in the backyard?”

“Yeah,” you say carefully. Your voice sounds like it's running away from you. “Haven’t been in it in years.”

“Wanna check it out?” he asks with a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

When you climb into the treehouse, your heart lurches. It’s a time capsule- a snapshot of forgotten dreams and naivete. There’s a dusty toy box, likely rusted shut from lack of use. In the corner is a pile of blankets and pillows. A few chairs are stacked in the far back, and fairy lights are still strung to the ceiling. On the walls are your drawings, fantasies of princes and princesses rendered in waxy crayon. It instantly brings tears to your eyes.

“Needs sweeping,” you say, sniffling. 

Beomgyu chuckles. “The queen doesn’t keep her castle clean. Shocker.”

You scoff. “Can’t manage the kingdom on my own.”

“Prince and Queen are very different roles, you know,” Beomgyu jokes back.

“Well, you didn’t want to be my king, clearly.” 

Beomgyu again takes your jab in stride, shrugging it off. “Going for jester instead nowadays.”

After exploring the treehouse a bit more, Beomgyu positions the chairs in a triangular formation. He whacks the dust off the blankets, and drapes them over. Then, he climbs under the fort, placing another blanket underneath. He adds some pillows and settles there, motioning for you to join him. You shake your head.

“Oh come on, _______. Get in here.”

“Fine.” You enter the pillow fort and lay on your back next to him. 

“Look what I found,” says Beomgyu. From behind him, he takes out a paper crown- the same one from your wistful memory. “Here.” He places the crown on your head and it fits perfectly. As he does so, he looks directly in your eyes, a blush appearing on his cheeks and nose. His hair is slightly damp with sweat. The humid heat of summer drapes over the entire room, intensified by the tiny shelter under which the two of you lay. 

“How’s college?” you ask.

“Fine. Soobin stays on my ass, not that I get into much trouble anyway.”

“You’re in a band, right?”

Beomgyu makes a face at you and you flush. You could’ve sworn he told you about the band before he left. He used to talk your ear off about his dreams of joining one. You had seen some pictures on Instagram of Beomgyu and a few of his friends playing shows at random dive bars in their little college town. Now he knows you check his page periodically. 

“Stalker.”

“Loser.”

“Wow. Great comeback, stalker.”

“I’m not a stalker.”

“Whatever you say, weirdo.” You smack his arm. “But to answer the question you totally don’t know the answer to; Yes. I’m in a band. You’ll have to meet the guys one day. You won’t believe how tall Kai has gotten. And there’s this guy, Yeonjun- the girls go crazy over him.”

“What about you?” you continue. “Do people go crazy over you?’

“Not anyone I care about.”

You turn on your side to face Beomgyu, your noses so close they almost touch. His hair falls over his eyes, long and floppy. He’s grown so much. You wish you were there to see the bags under his eyes form. To see his smile lines deepen and shoulders grow broader. You subconsciously reach to sweep a few strands of hair out of his eyes, tucking the tendrils behind his ear, and admire his pretty face. 

“You actually look more like a prince than a rock star,” you muse. 

“Not a rock star. I’m just in a band. Which you already knew.”

“I actually hate you.” Beomgyu laughs, eyes forming half moons. 

Your mind is racing. You have so many questions to ask him- questions you thought you’d never get the answers to. He’s here, real and tangible, and you’re terrified that he’s an apparition- that at any moment, you’ll wake up and realize you’ve been dreaming. You try your best to not impose your own wants onto him, but all you can see is the little boy to whom you divulged all your secrets. Now, you want nothing more than to run away from him, as quickly and as far as possible, so that he can feel what you felt so many years ago. 

“Why’d you leave without telling me?” The words leave your mouth before you can even register that you’re speaking.

“I’m not good at goodbyes.” Beomgyu attempts to chuckle it off, always trying to confront his shortcomings with some type of levity. His smirk is more like a pained grimace.

Your voice is barely above a whisper. “Doesn’t make it hurt any less,” you confess. “You were my best friend, Beomgyu.”

“If you had told me to stay with you, I would’ve in a heartbeat.”

“I wouldn’t have given you an ultimatum. I always knew you wanted to go to a bigger school with more opportunities.” You’re exasperated, pinching your nose bridge in annoyance. 

“I know, but if you had even suggested it-”

“Well, I didn’t! I didn’t do anything but support you, Gyu- like I always have! And you punished me for it.”

Unlike your childhood, the memory of Beomgyu leaving is burned onto the back of your eyelids. When you close your eyes, you see it so vividly:

You had just graduated highschool. You and Beomgyu had agreed to meet in your treehouse right after the ceremony. He was the first person you wanted to celebrate with. You biked all the way home, still in your cap and gown, feverishly pedaling down the streets of your neighborhood. The town was ablaze with elation. Music blared in the streets and confetti littered the ground. 

When you arrived, you threw your bike to the ground, not even bothering to prop it up on its kickstand. You climbed up into the treehouse, only to find it empty. You checked your phone. No messages from Beomgyu. You figured he had forgotten. You mounted your bike and made your way to Beomgyu’s house a few blocks over. In his bedroom window, you saw a girl caressing his face- similarly to how you would when Beomgyu was sad. She fluttered her lashes at him and placed a chaste kiss to his lips. You recognize the twisting of your gut as jealousy. 

When did Beomgyu slip from your grasp? Did he fall in love with her while you fell in love with a hypothetical- shimmering potentiality providing you comfort as you accepted the inevitably of your separation. Three months of summer together, then what? You’d confess your love for him and ruin the near decade of friendship your relationship boasted? It was a risk you weren’t willing to take, so you held the secret close to your chest, to wither away with the rest of your forgotten dreams. 

Your vision whites out, fuzzy and blurred. You end up walking your bike home and crying for the rest of the day. In the following weeks, Beomgyu didn’t call, visit or even send you a text.

You tried one more time, the night before you drove up to campus, to see him, knocking on his door four times. His mother answered, looking at you solemnly.

“Hi, Mrs. Choi! Is Beomgyu here?” 

“No, he left for school last weekend darling.” she had said. You felt the soft spot in your heart for Bomegyu harden, and walked home in the cold.

Your body jolts back to the present and you realize you might’ve never moved on from this day. Beomgyu shakes you from the thought, wiping a tear from your cheek. “I’m sorry, _______,” he whispers. 

You take the crown off of your head, giving it to Beomgyu. “I… admired you so much back then, even though I’d never admit it,” you say. “I wanted to be just like you. Now we couldn’t be more different.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe we can get to know each other as we are now,” Beomgyu suggests. Always hopeful, never one to play the pessimist. It’s one of things you loved about him most. “It’ll be a new adventure for us both.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“I admired you too, by the way,” he adds. “I wanted to be as headstrong as you. Do you still draw? Do you still want to be an artist?” Beomgyu looks at you with wild curiosity. It’s like you’re meeting him for the first time all over again.

“Yes, and yes. You thought I was headstrong?”

“You’re the only person who put up with my bullshit. So, yeah. Very headstrong.” 

Suddenly, your stomach growls. Loudly. Beomgyu stifles a laugh and asks, “Wanna cook up those pancakes?”

In the kitchen, you wait until bubbles rise to the top and flip the pancakes accordingly. Beomgyu rummages through the fridge, pouring two glasses of orange juice. You sit at the dining table, side by side.

“I have a confession to make,” Beomgyu says. “I hate blueberries. I ate them because you like them.”

You gasp. “Gyu! I would’ve lived without the damn blueberries!”

“I’ll just eat around them,” he says with a smile.

“You’re ridiculous.” 

“You love it.”

“Whatever,” you mumble under your breath.

You take a bite of your pancake, a blueberry bursting in your mouth. As you eat, you help Beomgyu pick around the blueberries in his.  When done with your meal, the two of you wash dishes. He washes and you rinse. The sloshing of water and clinking of dishes orchestrate your movements. You catch up with one another while cleaning, joking around like you used to. Out of nowhere, Beomgyu plops a cluster of bubbles onto your nose.

“You did not!” you exclaim, immediately repaying the favor by throwing suds back at him.Then, there’s bubbles everywhere, flying and floating in the air like dandelion fluff. 

“I absolutely just did, loser!” Beomgyu says, chasing you around the kitchen with more bubble ammo.

“Nerd!” you yell out as you run away from his attack.

“Stalker!”

“I am not a stalker!!!” In your tizzy, you slip and fall on some soap, Beomgyu promptly falling on top of you right after. Hovering above you, he bores into your visage fondly, deep eyes sparkling with affection. He looks like a dream. Then, like in some of your dreams, he leans down and kisses you. He takes his time, gently moving against you. It takes a second for your body to catch up with your mind, but when you do, you’re kissing him with the fervor of three years, four knocks, a lifetime of shared pancakes and the burgeoning of unabashed love. He cradles your face closely, not wanting to let you go.

When he comes up for air, Beomgyu says, “It’s a good thing saying goodbye isn’t really my thing, ‘cus I have no intention of saying it to you any time soon.” 

As Beomgyu leans back in to kiss you again, the front door swings open.

“The grocery store was a madhouse, but I managed to get some bacon,” your mom says. “Oh! Oh, I didn’t–” She closes her eyes dramatically, dropping her shopping bag on the floor.

You and Beomgyu instantly stand to your feet, putting as much distance in between you as possible. 

“Mom, please don’t make it awkward,” you groan. 

“I mean, I always had my suspicions, but–” she starts. 

“Mom! Please!”

Your mother smiles knowingly. “So I guess this means you two made up?”

a/n: unedited + feedback is always appreciated!

[fanwarriorfictions]

Not Again - Part Eleven

Summary: The morning after leaves Y/n and Azriel wanting more, but that will have to wait.

Warnings: a little spicy, no smut but it’s close, and she is Angstyyyyy

Series Masterlist

-Part Eleven-

She woke, surrounded by a familiar warmth and scent, home, she was home. The sun was shining behind her eyelids, she was hesitant to open them, to completely wake from the deepest and most peaceful slumber she had ever had in her life. When she finally forced her eyes open, it had taken a moment for her to register exactly where she was, not her bedroom in the palace of Orynth, but her room in the house of wind, and the scent of a male beside her, one that smelled of the libraries she’d spent most of her life in.

Azriel’s arms were around her, holding her close to his chest, Y/n still completely bare against him, Azriel still only half dressed, his wings splayed out across the bed on either side of him, one wrapping around them like a blanket.

He was awake, scarred hand lazily tracing shapes across her back. He halted when she lifted her head to look at him. His eyes were so beautiful in the morning sunlight, so beautiful she wondered why he spent so much time in the dark, when he could look like this. His hair a mess from sleep, from her hands pulling on the strands. His skin washed in the golden light, displaying each of those slightly red lines across his chest and shoulders that matched the shape of her nails.

“Have you been staring at me all morning?”

His answering smile turns the pit of her stomach molten, “Good morning, Princess.”

“Morning, shadowsinger.” She raises a hand to his face, thumb lightly ghosting over the small split on his bottom lip. “I’m sorry.”

Azriel nips lightly at her thumb, “Don’t be. You’re a vicious little thing but I can handle it.”

She grins, “You love it, don’t lie.”

His head tilts in that predator like motion, something in her likes the feeling of being his prey. Azriel’s hand continues to draw those small shapes across her back, his fingers trailing across her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. It reminds her that she’s completely naked, half laying on top of him. And she had a score to settle from the night before, a glorious score at that. She had never felt that in her life, the intensity of it, the passion, she had felt completely boneless afterwards, like her body was trying to process the sheer amount of pleasure it felt.

Her hand drifts lazily down his chest, over those raised scratches, over the dark black tattoos, down the hard muscles of his stomach. Only for her wrist to be caught between his large fingers.

She glares up at him, “Don’t ruin my fun.”

“Later, Princess.” There’s a dark haze to his eyes like he wanted nothing more than to say, now, now, now. “I promise you can have your fun, later. When did you last eat?”

She bristles at the concern in his voice, “I-“

“I know you can take care of yourself,” he interrupts, “Your stomach was growling in your sleep.”

She rips her hand free and smacks his chest, glaring at the way he laughs at her, “No it wasn’t.”

“You were drooling to,” he grins, “Dreaming of a roast dinner I’m sure.”

“You-“

He catches her hand before she can hit him again, lifting her wrist to his mouth to press a kiss to the inside, right abover her pulse. It flutters beneath his smirking lips and she wishes he’d press them to her own instead.

“Breakfast,” Azriel says, placing her hand directly above his beating heart, “You can tell me all about your little adventures from the past few days. And then you can have your fun, and I can have mine.”

The way his voice drops, that gravely sound that makes her clench around nothing. By the way he smirks, Y/n is sure he can scent the arousal pooling between her legs, she doesn’t give him the satisfaction of trying to hide it, despite how she desperately wants to press her thighs together.

“Fine,” she says, pushing off of his chest to sit up, “Breakfast and a story, and then I have my way with you, shadowsinger.”

She doesn’t miss the way his eyes fall to her breasts, to the purple marks littering all over her chest, she’d repay him for those too. His hand slides down her back, resting just above her ass, fingers pressing firmly into her skin to hold her in place.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, like a prayer only meant for her to hear.

“Still thinking about breakfast,” she taunts.

He answers without hesitation, “Yes.”

By the way his gaze travels down her body, whiskey eyes turning to the deepest amber she’d ever seen, Y/n is sure he’s thinking about another feast. Gods she wanted him to devour her again, to feel that tongue between her legs, those fingers stretching her, preparing her for the impressive size of him that she’d felt beneath his leathers.

“Breakfast first,” he groans, throwing his head back on the pillows, “Breakfast first.”

Y/n laughs at the image, “You ruin your own fun, shadowsinger.”

“It’s what I’m good at,” he says darkly, not looking at her, “Get dressed, Princess.”

Y/n rolls her eyes at the command, “What? You don’t enjoy the view?”

The hand on her back slides down, gripping the soft flesh of her ass almost painfully. Y/n nearly moans at the sensation, sitting back into his palm.

“Get dressed,” he orders again, squeezing her even harder, “You’re distracting.”

“Poor, shadowsinger,” she coos, pushing his hand off so she can climb off the bed, “Sees a pair of tits and loses all functionality.”

Azriel chuckles darkly, eyeing her chest, “Must you make everything more difficult than necessary?”

She turns towards her dresser, feeling the weight of his gaze drift down to her backside. There’s a set of night court style clothes, in her colors, green and silver laying out on the dresser for her. Y/n takes her time, bending over to step into the tiny little scrap of lace the house deemed as undergarments, slowly pulling it up her legs, over her ass. Azriel’s eyes burn into her, watching each deliberate motion as she dresses.

“Are you planning to eat breakfast half dressed,” she throws a raised brow over her shoulder, catching the hungry look in his eye, “I won’t complain.”

A plain black shirt appears in his lap, one he looks keen on ignoring, “It would seem the house would.”

“Insufferable busybody.” She lifts her own shirt above her head, making sure to turn just enough to let him see all of her, “Put your shirt on, shadowsinger. I’m hungry.”

“I can hear that from here.” He laughs at her glare, throwing his shirt over his head, deft fingers quickly buttoning the backs beneath his wings. “Lead the way, Princess.”

Azriel marked it as a testament of his will, to walk behind her, to have her lingering arousal in his nose, to watch those hips sway, to see that beautiful bruise on her neck and not press her against the closest wall and take her from behind. He’d spent enough time the night before admiring her front, he’d neglected the view from this angle, and what a view it was. He had many plans to rectify that.

She sends him a wicked smile over her shoulder, like she knew exactly where his thoughts had drifted off to, like he’d shouted them down the bond between them.

He hadn’t, the moment he’d woken this morning he’d taken that shadow that connected them and smothered it in his chest, locking away his raging need to scream that she was his mate, to beg her to stay with him, to accept him for all his faults and scars. He shoved it all in a box in the corner of his mind, locked behind chains and walls. When she’d woken, and she’d looked up at him with those eyes full of wonder, it almost broke him. That was a testament to his strength, to hold back the words, my mate, you’re my mate.

There was a feast prepared in the dining room. Pastries and fruits and meats and cheeses, several kinds of juices and teas and coffees to choose from. The house was a busybody indeed, he could hear Y/n grumbling under her breath at it. He wasn’t the only one that knew she was hungry, had she even eaten when she’d been gone? Had she even stopped to rest? The need to know where she’d been, what she’d done, overrode his need to fuck her against the table, barely, but it did.

Azriel carefully watches her fill her plate, noting the way she piles it high with the sweet pastries, little bits of fruit scattered throughout, like it would balance out the sheer amount of sugar. Once she sat, making a cup of black tea, the only thing not filled with enough sugar to send him into a coma, Azriel fills his own plate, balanced and protein filled like he always took his breakfast. He could almost hear Cassian chiding him for the single raspberry tart he adds to the mix.

Y/n bites into one of her own tarts, blueberry by the smell of it, and lets out a deliberate little moan. Every instinct in him zeroes in on the sound, but he forces it away, she wanted a reaction out him, she wouldn’t get one.

“Are you ready to tell me where you went?”

The sigh she lets out shows just how disappointed she is about her little preformance not working on him. He almost smiles, almost concedes that inch.

“I flew north,” she says, sipping on her tea, “I didn’t know where I was going, I just-“

She cuts herself off, and any lust fades from them both as she looks down at the table. Working through whatever it was she was thinking, whatever she was feeling. It was his fault, the things he’d said to her that night, lashing out at her because he was so scared of himself, of his own problems.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “About what I said, you’re not-“

“I am,” she interrupts, looking up at him with hazy eyes, “I am a coward, you were right.”

The resignation almost breaks him. Behind the thick walls of his mind he could feel her breaking on the other side, he hated it, hated himself for causing it.

“No I wasn’t-“

“Yes, yes you were.” She looks past him, out the windows beyond, “I flew north, as far as I could into the snow capped mountains, hoping if I flew far enough I would find Terrasen, that I could go home, go back to my perfect life, where I was safe and loved and had never felt the hardships that so many have been through before me.”

She laughs without any humor, “My mother was raised by an abusive monster after seeing her parents dead in their bed. She was a slave, she was tortured, beaten, forced to give everything she was to save the world. My father found the woman he thought was his mate, was to have a child with her, only to have her die while he was fighting for the queen who’d fucked with his mind. And then there’s me, the spoiled little princess who falls apart because she’s lost.”

Those silent tears fall down her cheeks, her breathing is steady, no sobs, just this quiet breaking. It shatters his heart.

“And I’m such a coward, that instead of facing my own bullshit, of pulling myself together,” she continues, “I try to force myself on you, try to force you to fix the broken parts of me. I don’t blame you for not wanting that, for calling me out on it. I ran away because you were right, and I couldn’t handle it. I ran because I couldn’t face the truth that, that I am nothing, my family is filled with hero’s, of stories, and I am nothing but a coward who failed her own.”

“No-“

“Yes,” she takes a deep breath, “I failed so spectacularly that I almost got myself and you-“

Her voice breaks for the first time and Azriel wants to hold her in his arms, to hold the shattering pieces of her together, but there’s the cursed table between them, holding him back yet again from her. He rests his hand on the table, scarred palm up in offering, for her to take it, for him to hold them both together, she takes it.

“I almost got us killed,” she breathes, voice so soft and broken, “and that scared me so much, and that scared me even more, the fear of losing you, of being the reason of it-“

“You’re not going to lose me, Princess.” He squeezes her hand tightly in his own, “We will figure this out, we will get you home, I promise.”

He hates himself for the selfish though that crosses his mind, the hope, that they wouldn’t figure it out, and if they did, maybe she would chose to stay with him. He knew she wouldn’t.

“Together,” she says, “No more fighting, we’ll do this together, shadowsinger.”

And he nods, ignoring the cracks in his heart, “Together, Princess.”

Y/n felt so tired, so raw after that conversation, after baring her heart and soul to Azriel. Any lingering heat in her from the night before, from that morning, had disappeared with every broken word that came from her lips. Azriel seemed to understand that without her having to tell him, like he always did. If she didn’t have that protection engraved into her brow, she’d assume he was a daemati, as Rhys had called his power, able to reach into her mind and read her thoughts and emotions.

Instead of dragging him back to her room, like she had originally planned during their walk to the dining room, she asked him to fly with her. And he said yes without hesitation.

The wind felt marvelous on her wings, the early morning spring chill still lingering. Velaris was beautiful in the morning light, though she knew it truly shone at night beneath the stars. There were fae roaming through the streets, some brave enough to look up and wave at the shadowsinger as he passed. Y/n almost laughed when he awkwardly waved back.

She dove down towards a bustling market, the palace of salt and bone if the delicious scents of fresh bread and spices drifting through her nose were any indication. With a flash she was in her fae form again, walking through a crowd of fae who starred at her and her winged companion who lands directly behind her.

“Trying to give someone a heart attack?” He asks, rolling his eyes at the grin she sends over her shoulder.

Azriel falls in step beside her and she notes the lack of his usual shadows. It reminds her of their first encounter, when she hadn’t been able to understand him, scared and hurt. He’d sent them away to not frighten her anymore than she already was. The people of Velaris were well aware of who and what he was, and by the gleam in most eyes they passed, she was sure none of them would be truly scared of the shadowsinger.

“The markets in Orynth are a lot like this,” Y/n says, admiring a baker’s stand, “My mother and I go once a month to buy as many sweets as our hands can carry.”

“I assume you inherited your sweet tooth from her?” Azriel picks up a decorated cookie and pulls a few coins from his pocket for the high fae female behind the stand. “Here.”

Y/n grins and takes the cookie from his outstretched hand, “My father swears he doesn’t have one but I’ve seen him sneaking through our hauls. And he always has a chocolate cake for his birthday. My mother once made him one, he told me it was the worst thing he’d ever eaten but he ate every single bite.”

Azriel chuckles, “If she’s anything like you I’d say he’s a smart male.”

“What’s that supposed to mean,” she glares, fighting back a grin.

Azriel smirks, “nothing, Princess.”

“Careful, shadowsinger.” She lets a small ice cold breeze push through his hair, over his wings, noting the shiver that runs down his spine, “Oh? Are those sensitive?”

And something she never thought she would see happens. A flush covers the shadowsinger’s cheeks, faint and barely visible on his deep tanned skin. But she sees it and her smile turns feline.

“I can see the idea forming in your head,” Azriel says, forcing that calm mask over his features to hide the blush, “don’t start something you don’t want to finish.”

“Oh I definitely want to finish,” Y/n says, letting another breeze cross directly over the sharp talon at the tip of his wing, “I have a score to settle, remember?”

Azriel takes a step closer to her, looking down at her with delightful intensity, “Careful, Princess.”

“Or what?” She lifts her hand, lightly dragging a finger over his forearm, “Big sensitive male, can’t handle a little teasing?”

“Careful,” Azriel says lowly, so no one passing can hear, only for her, “Or I take you into the shadows, and we’ll see who’s more sensitive.”

Her toes curl, the pit of her stomach turning molten, “Scandalous, shadowsinger.”

The hand on his arm gently reaches back, dragging over the soft membrane of a single wing. Azriel doesn’t let her dig her claws into him, he wraps those scarred fingers around her forearm and she’s engulfed in shadows. The familiar feeling of transporting falls over her, like stepping through a door into another part of the world. Her uncle had the ability, one of the rare few in her world, he’d taken her on many adventures using the ability, she was used to the disorienting feeling.

She doesn’t have the chance to see where they are, the world still covered in shadow, before her back is pressed to a wall, her hands held firmly above her head. Azriel’s mouth collides with her’s in a burning kiss. No gentleness, only fiery passion. Each stroke of his tongue sends a shock of need through her, all the way down to her core.

“You test my patience,” he grounds out against her mouth, nipping at her already swollen bottom lip, “Is this what you want, to be fucked against a back alley wall?”

He doesn’t let her respond, only takes her mouth again in that claiming kiss. She wants to touch him, to run her hands over those wings and see just how sensitive they really are, but he keeps her hands trapped against the wall above them, both wrists held in just one of his scarred palms. His other hand trails down her body, ghosting over the places she really wants him to stop and take his time.

She tries and fails to arch into his touch, his body pining her to the wall, one of his legs shoved between her own, thigh pressed to her aching center. Her hips writhe, seeking the friction she desperately needs.

Azriel laughs against her lips, “What? Can’t handle a little teasing?”

He mocks her words from the street and she’s almost to lost in the intensity of everything to be annoyed by it, almost. Y/n nips at his lip like he’d done to her, catching that already spilt bottom lip with her canine.

Azriel winces, just enough for her to be satisfied, “Vicous little creature.”

His hand grips her hip, almost painfully, coaxing her to move against his thigh. The motion makes her dizzy, her head falling back against the wall. Azriel takes the opportunity to attack her neck, almost instantly finding that spot that makes her see stars, giving her a matching bruise on the other side of her neck.

“Az,” she gasps, “Gods please.”

She can feel him smirk against her neck, and she almost sobs when he backs away.

Her hands fall to her sides as she gapes up at the smirking male, “What are you-“

“The first time I take you,” he says wickedly, that insufferable smirk growing wider, “will not be a quick fix in an alleyway, where anyone could walk by and catch us. I plan to take my time with you, Princess, to make you scream without a potential audience.”

She glares up at him, “You bast-“

“You can curse at me all you want,” Azriel says, “when we get back home, Princess.”

Home, for the first time since she’d been here, the word didn’t send a shock of pain through her. Azriel gives her a look, like he knew what she was thinking, like he was asking her if she was alright. Surprisingly, she was.

“Lead the way, shadowsinger.”

Azriel holds out a hand to her, pulling her close to his chest when she grabs it. Shadows wrap around them and they step through that invisible doorway. It’s bright when they emerge, and they’re falling, towards the house of wind far far below them. Azriel’s arms wrapped tightly around her, wings flaring to catch the wind, it feels strange to fly not in her hawk form, to rely solely on another’s wings to keep her from plummeting to the ground below them. But Azriel hold firm, and they gently drift to the balcony. Y/n is itching to get on the ground, to drag him to her room.

They land, Azriel gently setting her feet on the floor, arms still wrapped around her, pressing her close to his body, shadows dancing around them. She can feel them whispering against her skin, she can’t understand them, but Azriel’s eyes shine with an emotion she can’t read.

“What are they-“

Footsteps, thundering down the hall beyond the open archway behind her. Her head snaps towards the sound, Azriel holding her tighter to him. His shadows press closely to her like they would shield her from whoever was running towards them, whatever danger they’d bring with them.

“Wrap it up lovebirds,” Cassian’s booming voice, he rounds the corner, wings flared wide in a fighting stance, “Something’s wrong with the gate.”

Y/n’s heart stops dead in her chest, she barely feels the way Azriel’s arms loosen in shock around her. She could feel it suddenly, that ancient and wicked presence, distant but growing stronger, pay the price.

She rips away from Azriel, wincing at that voice growing stronger, louder in her mind, it felt like claws tearing into her brain, gods killer, pay the price, pay her price.

“Rhys and Feyre are containing it as best they can, neither of them could reach you,” Cassian says, the voice of a general, “Nes is on standby with the trove.”

Y/n barely registers the words, what the trove was she didn’t care, just prayed that whatever it was could help them. She’s running for the hallway, only to be stopped by a strong hand wrapped around her bicep.

“You’re not just going to run in there,” Azriel says, voice as hard as the hand on her arm, “That thing wants you, I can feel it chanting your name. It’ll kill you.”

She could too, could hear it in her head, Y/n, Y/n, pay the price of the gods killer, pay it Y/n, pay it.

“I’m not going to sit here and let it kill all of you instead,” Y/n snaps, tugging at his iron grip. “Let me go, Azriel.”

His harden gaze breaks just enough, showing the fear behind the rage, “Y/n, don’t do this, we’ll figure this out together, I can’t, I-“

“Let me go, Az,” she repeats, more gently than before, yet still demanding, “Let me go.”

Cassian steps forward, a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “We’ve got to go, Az. They can’t hold it back forever.”

His whole face shutters, and Y/n feels the echo of his pain, it hurts her heart, her soul. She stands tall on her toes, tilting her head to capture his lips on her own, this kiss is the opposite of any they’d shared before, no heat, no passion, just the soft broken promise of whatever ties them together, whatever could have been between them.

“Let me go,” she whispers against him, and this time when she pulls her arm away, he lets her.

Come to me, Y/n, pay your mother’s price.

She’s running towards that voice, to that promise of death, she had no idea what she would face, no idea if her death would be painful, if there would be anything left of her soul or if she would be left with nothing.

Cassian and Azriel run after her, their footfalls like the ticking hands of a clock, marking the dwindling seconds left of her life. She’s half tempted to shift, to fly through the halls as fast as she can, to leave Azriel far enough behind so he wouldn’t have to witness the carnage.

They round the final corner, the green light of the gate flooding the hallway through the open door. Y/n charges inside, ignoring the shouts of warning from the males behind her.

Rhys is holding Feyre close to his side, both High Lady and Lord intensely focused on the shield they forged around the open gate. The black depths in the center reveal nothing of the world it resides in or creature beyond, but she can feel its presence, it’s anger.

“It’s waiting,” Nesta calls from the other side of Feyre, a glowing steel sword poised to strike in her hands, another is strapped to her back, the hilt as black as night, “It hasn’t moved since we got here.”

Cassian runs to his mate’s side, “Where’s the trove?”

“Ready,” Nesta replies, “In case this all goes to shit.”

Shadows wrap around Y/n’s wrists, gently caressing the skin and winding up her arms. Azriel stands by her side, the mask of deathly calm firmly in place, the only mark of his fear, his hand that firmly grips her own. She holds him just as tightly, he has to feel the way her hands shake.

There she is, finally. The voice shifts, female, ancient but somehow young. Your mother’s pride and joy, her precious Mala’s fire burning in your veins.

Y/n’s fire stirs in response, that deep well of it in the pit of her stomach waking up like the goddess had called for it, like it recognized the name of the other goddess it had come from. She has to dampen it with her own ice kissed wind. Keep it contained.

“Should I talk to a void,” Y/n says, using that bravado, hiding her fear, “Or are you to vicious sight to behold.”

The black hole ripples and a glowing pale hand reaches through. They all shift, drawing weapons, raising them towards the creature that crawls through the portal, the shield that Feyre and Rhys hold is reinforced by Y/n’s wind, and a red light from the siphons on Cassian’s armor. A blue light surrounds Y/n, and she doesn’t have to look to know it’s from Azriel’s own siphons.

The female that emerges from the inky black is beautiful, glowing skin, dark black hair that flows over her turned down face and across her body, a simple white gown covering her, long slits at the sides revealing sleek long legs, feet clad in golden sandals. Beautiful. Yet when she looks up, when her hair parts, Y/n feels like she’s going to be sick.

Turquoise eyes, ringed with silver, stare at her from a face so scarred that the rest of her features are barely discernible. Her mouth moves in what Y/n assumes is a grin.

“Beautiful,” the goddess says, “am I not?”

She’d survived the creatures her mother had subjected the gods to, somehow she’d managed to live, barely, but she’d survived.

“Who are you,” Nesta says, that blade pointed directly at the goddess’s throat.

Those eyes narrow at Nesta, and pass right through her towards the High Lady behind her. The attention draws a warning growl from her mate’s throat, one from Nesta as well, the goddess ignores them both.

“A huntress,” she coos at Feyre, “I’d recognize one of my own anywhere.”

Huntress. Y/n’s body locks up, and Azriel at her side takes a casual step in front of her, like he could sense exactly what dots she was connecting. The shadows wrap around her, that blue shield settling over her like armor.

The motion draws the goddess’s attention to them, her head tilting in a predator like motion, “Well this is interesting.”

“Deanna,” Y/n breathes, “You’re Deanna.”

The goddess chuckles, “So she didn’t erase us completely. Do the mortals in your realm still worship us faithfully? Or do they worship Aelin Galathynius, their glorious savior?”

Deanna practically spits her mother’s name, and that well of power inside of Y/n rumbles. Azriel, squeezes her hand once, twice, calm down, he seems to tell her, like he could feel the fire beneath her skin, warming their joined hands. He doesn’t flinch from the heat, doesn’t shy away from her, only holds her tighter, not afraid.

“Did she raise her precious daughter to hide behind pretty males?” Deanna laughs, “She didn’t want to share the spotlight I’m sure.”

“What do you want?” Azriel says, cutting straight to the point, “Why are you here?”

Deanna tuts at him, “You males have no manners. Someone aught to train you.”

To fast, she moved to fast. Y/n didn’t see her arm raise, didn’t see that bow materialize in her hands, didn’t see her draw back that string, all she saw was that golden arrow, flying through the air faster than it possibly could, propelled by that ancient magic of Deanna’s. It splits through every shield, through the wall of shadows, directly into Azriel’s chest.

She felt it in her own, that sharp searing pain, his and her own. The scream tears through her, ripping her throat to shreds, bleeding through her lips. Azriel falls, the grip on her hand falling with him, his shadows disappear, scattering into the corners of the room, leaving their master below her, bleeding, dying.

Dead, dead, she killed him, gone, dead. There’s this string tied to her heart, twisting and pulling, reaching for him, a tether between that she yanks on, begging him to stay. She’s screaming and screaming and lunging through those shields, Azriel’s own dagger in her hands, she doesn’t remember grabbing it.

Deanna is smiling beneath those scars, laughing, “Finally.”

Fire, burning through her, Mala’s fire, so hot it burns blue. It imbues into the dagger, the black blade spitting those blue flames as Y/n takes it to the goddess’ throat. Deanna doesn’t move, doesn’t fire an arrow, doesn’t burn her with that moon fire.

She simply sighs, “Pay the price, Y/n, finish what your mother started, let me finally rest with my kin.”

Y/n gives her exactly what she wants, what she gave Azriel, death. His dagger finds home in her throat, fire burning through the goddess, turning her to ash from the inside out. Time seems to completely stop, seconds turning to hours, to days, to years, Deanna burns and burns for a millennium, till there’s nothing left but that ancient bow and the golden arrow in Azriel’s chest.

Time shifts, moves faster and faster. The inner court is screaming around her, screaming for a healer, for Azriel, for her. She doesn’t hear them, doesn’t even know who or where she is, she simply collapses, throwing up a shield of hard air around her and Azriel. And she lays her head on her mate’s chest and screams.

Tag list

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[throneofsapphics]

taking a vacation with feysand and/or nessian

poly!feysand x reader & poly!nessian x reader

summary: for poly!acotar week day 4, adventure

warnings: none, very brief suggestiveness

a/n: look ... I messed up the dates and it might be barely but I still made it. here's some drabbles/ headcannons!

poly!Nessian x Reader

Perhaps surprisingly, Cassian insisted on planning it all as well as keeping it a surprise. Normally, he’d give in to either of you with enough pestering, but this time he was an iron wall, not a single clue or hint given to either of you. 

He pinched his thumb and forefinger together before drawing them across his lips, even miming tossing a key over his shoulder. You rolled your eyes, but a fond smile crept on to your lips.  “What if I promise not to tell Nes?” He snorted, and you lifted and dropped your shoulders. It was worth a try - but they both knew you were terrible at keeping secrets from either of them.  "It was worth a shot," you mumbled, redirecting your attention to the book on your lap. A shadow covered you, two fingers tilting your chin up. He pressed a kiss against your forehead, chapped lips lingering for a few seconds. "It'll be worth the wait," he reassured, confidence flowing through every word, not a hint of bullshit. Your eyes narrowed, but you gave a nod. Seemingly content, Cassian placed a too-brief kiss to your lips before making his way out of the room.

Nesta was a tad anxious over how his planning would turn out 

“It’s not if it’ll be a disaster, it’s how much of a disaster.”  “Have a little more faith in him,” you chastised, quickly looking away as she turned her glare on you.  “We don’t get much … time free together,” Nesta sighed, and you carefully covered her hand with your own. “I want everything to go well.”  “We’ll be together,” you insisted. “That’s good enough for me.”  Her mouth curved at one corner, a grateful look shot your way, her hand turning up so your palms met, her fingers wrapping around yours and squeezing. 

Cassian was impressed with himself, and firmly believed he had every right to be. He hoped both of you would as well. Mother above, he’d sworn an oath to Tarquin for this. 

“The blindfold is a little extreme,” you grumbled, fidgeting with the cloth knot at the back of your head. Cassian gently swatted your hand down.  “We’re almost there.”  Nesta was quiet next to you, her hand steady in yours, but you could nearly taste the anxious energy rolling from her. You gave her what you hoped was a comforting squeeze.  Salt, and sea, and sand hit you at once, along with a scent distinct to one place …  The knot loosened at the back of your head and you tore the cloth off, rapidly taking in your surroundings. You weren’t in Adriata, but it was unmistakably the summer court.  “Cassian,” you hissed, “you’re banned, for life.”  “I promise we’re fine,” he grinned, and produced a paper from his pocket, holding it out to you with a flourish. Nesta peered over your shoulder as you carefully unraveled it. A letter - attesting Cassian and company were allowed to access this beach and a rental vacation home for the next seven days, signed by Tarquin himself. 

poly!Feysand x Reader

Feyre and Rhys argued over where to take you - in their minds, of course. It seemed the only thing they could agree on was to keep it a surprise. You watched them, eyes glazed, but lips pursed - obviously in some kind of mental argument with each other. A crease formed between Feyre's brow, Rhys's lips pressing into a tight line. You didn't like that. Especially considering you were nearly certain it was related to you somehow, otherwise they would've spoken aloud. Clearing your throat, you tried your best to get their attention. Nothing. "Right, I'm heading out," you finally called. Still no response. The sting and small sense of hurt came naturally, and you let the door slam behind you a little louder than you usually would. Rhys's muffled voice came after the slam but you were already out the door. "I'll make it up to you later, darling," Rhys's voice slid into your mind, smooth and full of promise. "I'll look forward to it," you didn't know if it was possible for your voice to be breathy in your own head, but you certainly gave your best impression of it.

Feyre packed for you, of course.

You perched on the edge of the bed as Feyre started rummaging through the drawers. First, she picked up a sundress with thin straps and flowing fabric that would just brush the middle of your thighs - ideal for hot weather. Next came a thick woolen cloak. You tilted your head, catching her eye in the mirror. "How many places are we going?" "Oh," she carefully folded a long sleeved shirt, "just one." Your mouth parted, but she answered the next question for you. "We can't have you spoiling the surprise." A laugh bubbled from your chest. Their secrecy had only made you more determined in turn, and it turned into something of a game for you over the last week.

Rhys had scouted the location no less than six times in the week before, Feyre accompanying him for a few of the trips. He knew it was safe, but with you he had to be certain.

Your back pressed against his chest, his hand covering your eyes, you winnowed - holding your breath at the sensation that never quite felt comfortable. As soon as you hit solid ground, you attempted to peel his fingers away from your eyes, but his grip was firm. "Rhys," you hissed, and he laughed but released you. Jaw dropping, you spun in a circle. Feyre stood with her hands clasped in front of her, shifting back and forth. An island. "Where," you cleared your throat, "where are we?" "An island not far off the coast," Rhys wrapped an arm around your waist, slowly turning you. You felt Feyre smooth fingers grasp your other hand, thumb brushing over the back of your hand. Rhys was still speaking, you realized and focused back in. "You can see Velaris," his voice was laced with a touch of amusement that told you he was well aware your attention wandered. Sure enough, there was a cluster of lights, but appearing barely larger than your fingertip. Twisting your head over a shoulder, you spotted the ... cabin was an understatement. Mini-palace waiting for you. Shrugging away from Rhys's grip, switching to grasp his hand instead, you tugged them both forward, their laughter trailing behind you.

[crepes-suzette-373]

[Part 1]

The Totto Land plot in the "defective quadruplets AU" (explanation here). I had wanted to make it as drawings/comics, but it got very long, so this becomes a fanfic instead. Assume that everything before this point, and anything that I gloss over, happens exactly as it is in the original series.

*VS*VS*VS*VS*

Sanji blinked slowly at the high ceiling of the lab. His whole body hurt and his face stung to point of numbness. He barely registered the medics approaching, their shoes crunching on the debris scattered all over the broken floor tiles, and when the stern voice of his older sister rang out, it sounded like it was coming from worlds away through the throbbing in his head.

He let Reiju pull him up and lead him away. He never expected anything other than suffering and torment upon returning to this place called Germa, but there were moments, when he closed his eyes, that he thought he saw flashes of hope at the back of his mind.

Blink.

A child Niji was holding a dead rat in one hand and offering him a living rat with his other.

Blink.

Never mind the dead one, Niji would never touch living rats.

Blink.

Yonji was asking him if he ever tried making medicine instead of cooking. Wasn’t the only difference between them their tastes? Food is good, medicine is gross, but you have to mix stuff together to make them both.

Blink.

That’s can’t be. All Yonji ever wanted to do was beat up Sanji and call him weak.

Blink.

He was able to keep up with Ichiji in a swordsmanship bout. Ichiji still won at the end, but Sanji wasn’t immediately pummeled to the ground the moment the instructor said “begin”, and Ichiji even said he did okay.

Blink.

That had to be a dream. Ichiji had always been impossibly strong, and Sanji never stood a chance against him.

*VS*VS*VS*VS*

Reiju led him to her room, and applied a face mask that hurt like hell but fixed his appearance. Only temporarily, she’d said, and he barely listened to her half-heartedly scolding him for returning.

“Reiju,” he interrupted, “Tell me, were there ever times—you know, back then—when they weren’t so…so terrible?”

There was silence, and it was a moment before Reiju replied, simply, “Yes.”

Sanji sighed. “So it was real. I almost thought I’d dreamed that up,” he said flatly. He didn’t know what he was expecting to feel from the answer, but he still felt as hollow as before.

“They’re still like that, even now,” Reiju spoke again, “If it’s any consolation.”

It wasn’t. He was still trapped in a marriage he didn’t want, with the lives of everyone in Baratie and his very future as a cook dangling over certain doom by barely a thread. He thought of Zeff, the man whom he owed his life to. Sanji would rather endure a million beatings than allow the man, who was his father in all but blood, to die.

As if life hasn’t given him enough burden to carry, Luffy came bounding at the Germa’s cat carriage, grinning and cheerfully chattering away like usual. How Sanji wished it could be like all their previous adventures, where they could throw themselves at the enemy and fight to the very last spans of their lives. This time it was different, and no amount of desperate fighting could get them through it.

So Sanji hardened his emotions, to whatever extent it was capable of, and landed a kick on his captain. He echoed the horrid drivel that was drummed into his ears all day long, even as every word tasted like poison on his tongue, and rained flaming blows on Luffy, desperately willing the stubborn rubber man to leave. Every hit was like a blow to his own soul, and he was certain his heart shattered at the utter disgust Nami-san directed at him through her tear-filled eyes.

*VS*VS*VS*VS*

Multi coloured unwanted guests barged in on Sanji while he was preparing food for Pudding.

He said nothing and kept working, all the while anticipating the usual slew of mockery for his unroyal-like behaviour. None came, however, and the only sound came from utensils clattering and food sizzling and bubbling on the stove.

The silence made his chest tighten, and every few moments his eyes darted towards his three intruders, watching for any dangerous movements. There was still nothing. The trio had seated themselves at the small dining table in that kitchen, and were just sitting there doing nothing.

His hands began to tremble, unwittingly. He had to steady his right hand with his left to lift the pot of pasta from the burner. He drained the pasta and, as he stirred it into the sauce, he glanced back at the table. A shiver ran through his body when he saw that there was only two, now. Where did—

“I want that,” came a low voice from his other side.

“Gah!” Sanji screamed and nearly dropped his spatula.

Niji had made his way over unnoticed, and was pointing at the burger patties still cooking in the other pan. “I want two,” he spoke again.

Sanji stared. Niji stared back.

Completely bewildered, Sanji could only say, “It’s not done yet.”

“Then I want that,” Niji said, pointing at a plate of sandwiches to the side.

Still very confused, Sanji waved a “go ahead” gesture, and went back to finishing the pasta. Somehow that weird little interaction stopped his tremors and, even if he couldn’t say he was no longer tense, he was able to proceed without hiccups.

Moments later, the sandwiches were still untouched and Niji doesn’t seem to have even moved a muscle when Sanji returned from getting a plate of buns and lettuce for the burgers. Shaking his head, Sanji turned off the stove and lifted the pan of patties.

Niji looked over, then. “Is that done? I still want two,” he said. He glanced slightly at the buns and toppings on the other plate, and then added, “I don’t want the bread and green stuff. Or any gross sauce.”

“Yes, yes, now go away, you’re bothering me,” Sanji replied without thinking. His insides were already recoiling the moment the words left his mouth, and he waited for the angry expletives to come. He was surprised when Niji instead immediately returned to the table without another word and sat back down. 

There was no time to dwell on it, though. He made a quick check of the roasting meat (still a little more to go), flipped the grilled fish, and then began arranging the burgers. The best one went into the bentou box. He put the lopsided ones on a plate and the remaining patties on another. After a moment’s consideration, he ladled a portion of curry in a saucier, and placed it on the plate of meat patties alongside condiments in little soufflé cups. He brought three sets of knives and forks alongside the plates to the table.

”Whatever happened to ‘royals shouldn’t cook’?” Sanji mumbled quietly to himself as he laid down the plates.

He was heading back towards the stove, when from behind him he heard Ichiji’s voice, “You already did the cooking. The food can’t be unmade.”

Sanji hadn’t been expecting a reply, and he instinctively directed his attention to the table again. Yonji was stuffing his face with the burgers and Niji quietly eating his meat patties—Sanji couldn’t help raising an eyebrow when he saw Niji had poured on the curry. Ichiji wasn’t eating, and he just sat there looking at Sanji with his arms crossed.

Why? Why why what why what…?

A dozen formless questions spun in Sanji’s head as he and Ichiji held eye contact. Then it became too much, and Sanji almost ran back to his cooking as though in escape.

In many ways it was. Cooking was his solace, and going through the motions helped his nerves settle back down, even with the gleaming gold around his wrists serving as a reminder that one of his last few comforts could be taken away from him any time.

In the middle of placing sandwiches in the bentou box, a thought made him pause: Niji hadn’t touched those for some reason. He glanced at the table, and saw that Niji had finished his portion and was just sitting idly again. Sanji looked down at the sandwich plate, then at the empty plate on the table, and it suddenly dawned on him that Niji didn’t take the sandwiches earlier because he had been waiting to be served like the stupid spoiled prince that he was.

Sanji could only huff. “I give up, this is crazy.”

*VS*VS*VS*VS*

It wasn’t until the bentou box was packed and ready that Sanji realized that what he had been making was the typical menu for the crew aboard the Sunny. Between the unwelcome presence of certain individuals—who all still haven’t left yet—and his jumbled emotions, he hadn’t been thinking as clearly as he should be while cooking. In fact, come to think of it, he probably hadn’t even been thinking at all, and was only moving out of pure instincts.

Even though he didn’t prepare the meat in a Luffy-sized portion, it was still way too much for someone like Pudding. As he was mulling over the food, Ichiji’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“By the way, Sanji, we don’t actually have hostages in the East Blue.”

“What?!”

He whirled around so fiercely he knocked over the bottle of wine. It fell back on the counter with a thud, and normally Sanji would’ve worried about it falling to the floor, but he paid it no mind.

“What do you mean there’s no hostage?” Sanji asked, his voice rising in a mix of hope, fear, and rage. “If this is a trick—”

“Our ships are all here; we don’t have anyone assigned to target that restaurant of yours,” Ichiji said, his voice flat and toneless as usual. “Big Mum’s crew gave us the picture and information and let us handle the rest. I do not believe they sent any ambush parties over themselves.”

“If you’re worried, do you want to give them a call?” Yonji asked, holding out a dendenmushi that had materialized from who knows where. His tone was light, and the corners of his mouth was turned in a slight smile as he spoke.

Sanji exploded.

“You’re telling me, now, that you’ve been making empty…you’ve been threatening me…and it was all nothing?!” The words came in a mad rush and he was stumbling and slurring over them in frothing rage. “You think this is funny, don’t you? Playing with people’s lives? Why are you even telling me this?”

He wanted to scream, to hit them, and he also wanted to cry. He thought of the cruel words and punches and the burning pain of electricity searing his body. Luffy’s expression burning determination, even with his bruised and battered body, and the haunting expression on Nami-san’s face. Everything he went through, everything he did…what was the point of it all?

“People die when they die,” Ichiji stated matter of factly, “All we needed was for the wedding to proceed as planned. You’re getting married tomorrow, so I don’t see any difficulties in telling you this.” He tilted his head a little, and then said, “I’m sure you’ve heard that your crew mates have been caught, yes? We might be able to negotiate to bring Cat Burglar Nami with us after the wedding. I’m sure having a familiar face around would make you feel more comfortable.”

“If you touch Nami-san I will rip you to shreds,” Sanji snarled. “I can’t believe this. You also threatened to kill all the hostages if I fought you. What was that about?”

“That’s your punishment. You kicked me for the sake of that kitchen girl.” It was Niji who responded this time. “As royalty, you can’t attack your big brother for the sake of that kind of lowly servant. If you want a match, I’ll take you anytime.”

“I stopped associating myself with this miserable lot ages ago.”

“But you are our brother,” says Yonji, who was idly poking at the dendenmushi on his hand, “What else would you be?”

Sanji gaped at Yonji like he was speaking gibberish. Then he cast his eyes towards the other two. There were none of the twisted smirks he’d seen on their faces the other day. All he saw were vague looks that seemed like on the border of forming expressions, but didn’t quite fully get there.

“What—what is wrong with you? With all of you? Why are you acting like this?” Sanji choked out. Their calm, matter of fact manner somehow deflated his rage. He almost would rather they berate and hit him again, because he could kick and fight and vent out all his feelings. This, though, only made him feel like he was losing his mind.

Three faces glanced at each other around the table, and then almost in unison they said, “This is just how we’ve always been.”

At those words, Sanji recalled in his memories the echoes of his own tiny voice asking the same question, “Why are you like this?”

 “This is just how we are,” three equally tiny voices gave the same answer.

There was a vision at the back of his mind, then, of a view framed by the metal of an iron mask, and three pairs of little eyes peering at him through bars of steel. The same three pairs that were directed at him, in the present, except on the faces of grown men.

Wait… eyes?

Sanji blinked. He didn’t know how it never registered until then that Ichiji and Niji weren’t wearing their dark glasses and goggles. He also hadn’t noticed before that their hair were different, too. Ichiji’s wasn’t sticking up like a chicken’s comb, but loose and relaxed, and he thought it looked a little like Reiju’s hair. Niji’s hair was also not in that…whatever that weird style he usually wore, which Sanji had mentally dubbed “the banana”, but draping down his face like waterfalls. Yonji’s hair doesn’t have that little tail at the back of his head that looked like a duck’s butt.

What could this possibly mean—? No, that’s not important. He could puzzle over this later. He had to find Pudding immediately.

This whole time, with the looming threat on Baratie, there was nothing he could do besides let himself be dragged around and placate Big Mum enough to plead her for mercy. Now that he knew Baratie was safe, he could save Nami-san and Luffy. Pudding had helped them get in; surely she could also help them get back out.

With the explosive bracelets still on, Sanji himself still had no chance of leaving. Besides, after what he’d done he didn’t deserve to return to the Sunny. The least he could do to atone for it was to get all the Mugiwara crew out of there safely.

This was no time for flowers and wine, but Sanji still grabbed the food before rushing out. He had prepared that bentou to make up for the dinner Pudding had missed, after all. She could always have it later. The portions… no time to worry about that too.

He sprinted through the chateau, all the while somehow trying to keep the food from being jostled too much. However, when he made it to Pudding’s room, the stupid talking door would not let him in, saying that Pudding was busy.

Busy? Busy with what? With who?

For a moment, Sanji felt a little fear creep into his heart and considered returning later. If one or more of Big Mum’s other children was inside… No, he had every right to be there, as the bridegroom. He could always say he wanted to discuss the wedding, or… other private matters. His mind wandered a little at the thought, but he shook himself out of it. More important matters are at hand.

Pudding’s room had a window overlooking the balcony. He could take a quick look inside to see what’s going on inside before deciding what to do next. As he got closer, he heard laughter. His heart lightened a little. It doesn’t seem like she was busy with something too serious. Maybe he could get her to let him in through the window—

It was then that Sanji discovered that the girl he thought to be his single source of hope in this whole ordeal was, in truth, poison coated in deceivingly sweet layers of custard.

*VS*VS*VS*VS*

He visited Reiju in the infirmary, after making sure to immobilize the guard outside. He told her, with his head held in his hands, about what he’d overheard Pudding say. In turn she revealed to him his bracelets were fake, and told him to flee immediately.

“It’s truly a pity for our brothers, but at this point, death would be more merciful than this sad excuse of a life they’ve been living,” Reiju said.

“What do you mean?” Sanji asked.

“Remember what you asked me before, if they ever act unusual sometimes?”

“Yes,” he replied, immediately straightening up. That had slipped his mind in the confusion. “Actually, I just saw them act weird again. They… they told me Baratie is not in danger.” As he talked more and more words rushed out, “… Ichiji’s not wearing his sunglasses. Niji too. And he wanted food. And they didn’t call it rat fodder…”

Reiju smiled sadly, listening to him ramble.

“I don’t know if you remember,” she interrupted, her voice soft, “Every once in a while you managed to keep up just a bit better…”

“I do!” Sanji almost shouted, “I think… I thought… I thought they weren’t terrible to me if I can do well, and I tried so hard, and…”

The memories that he thought he’d forgotten floated back to the surface. Now that he spoke it out loud, he did vaguely recall that those three were ‘different’ on the days that he thought he didn’t fall so far behind. He remembered the flash of memory from the day before, of successfully putting up a proper fight in swordsmanship class. He was beginning to remember other moments too, like occasionally tying with Niji or Yonji during track running.

“…but it wasn’t ever good enough in the end,” he said, looking at Reiju. “And that wasn’t even why they’re like that, was it?”

His older sister then told him the story of their mother, how she fought Vinsmoke Judge over his insane plans, and how she took a drug concoction that destroyed her body in desperate attempt to save her children.

“The drug she took took effect on all of you, but only you were born as a regular human being,” Reiju said. “Those three… On those days that they changed, it’s not that you did better, it’s because they’re the ones who lost their abilities.”

“Lost their abilities?" he echoed. "What do you mean? How?”

“I don’t know. Their enhancements would just regularly come and go without warning. In the end, they weren’t the perfect war machines that father wanted, but they weren’t regular humans either. Those brief moments were probably the closest thing to ‘normal’ they could ever be.” Reiju sighed. “As I said, Sanji, death would be more merciful to them. Living this kind of halfway existence is not really living. Escape and let Germa be destroyed. It’s the only thing we deserve.”

*VS*VS*VS*VS*

Sanji left the infirmary with his mind in a fog. When Yonji showed him the manufactured Germa soldiers, he had been sick to the core, but never in his imaginations did he expect Judge to be so… so insane as to do that to his own wife and unborn children. Had it not been for mother’s sacrifice, Sanji himself might have been…no, even with what mother did, if anything had gone differently, it might have been Ichiji or Niji or Yonji in his place. Sanji would have been on the side doing the tormenting, then, and he’d never have been any the wiser.

What a horrible thought.

The blond slumped to the floor. Those three… He had always thought of them inhuman monsters, and knowing that he’d been mostly right didn’t give him any satisfaction. They didn’t become like that willingly, did they? Something had been ripped out of them before they were even fully conscious, and they could only live on with whatever mangled mess of their hearts that were left.

“This is just how we are”, they had said. That really had been the truth, after all. In all these time he’d been half convinced that he had dreamed up those moments were they were decent, or if they’d been pulling a trick him, but no—it was truly their nature, and he didn’t know if it was possible for them to be any different. 

Ever since he was hauled away from Zou, he despised the constant reminder he faced that he still had blood ties to the Vinsmoke family. It made him feel like he was smothered in thick sludge, weighed down and dirty at the same time. That interaction earlier, though, in the kitchen... It had been truly bizarre, but he had to admit—it wasn’t all bad.

Ichiji revealed the truth about the Baratie and they offered to let him call the restaurant. His heart lurched. Were they… trying to make him feel better? Niji and Yonji called him brother, too, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.  There was no mocking, no berating—it just was.

Sanji didn’t dare hope—tried to force himself not to think—because he knew it would only hurt all the more, but he couldn’t stop that little voice inside that told him maybe they were trying to be his family, in the only way they knew how. Perhaps the faintest glimpse of what might have been, if life was much kinder to all of them.

He pulled at his hair. Maybe Reiju did have a point, that death would be mercy compared to this kind of warped state of living. Besides, even if he wanted to do anything about Big Mum’s plot, there was nothing he could do.

A lumpy looking individual came waddling by just then and snatched a piece of meat from his food basket. In a flash he remembered Luffy declaring he would starve to death if Sanji doesn’t return to feed him.

That stubborn rubber man always meant every word he said.

Sanji kicked away the greedy lump, took back the meat, and fled the scene.

Making sure all of the crew made it out of there safely was what he’d initially set out to do after all. First, he needed to find Luffy. Then, feed Luffy. After that, the Mugiwara captain could probably manage on his own. Sanji would deal with whatever were to follow as they came.

[to be continued]

*VS*VS*VS*VS*

It's my first attempt at writing something that is a little longer. I hope you enjoy.

[feirceangel]

Imagine | Slice of Life (Luffy)

Imagine getting into a food fight and then cleaning up :)

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, bathing, non-sexual nudity, general good vibes.

Word Count: 1,056

(Not my gif)

"What's going on?" You ask with arms crossed.

"Nuf'n," comes the mumbled reply from Luffy. His face is stuffed full of the cake you had just finished icing, frosting plastered all over his face.

"Sure," you drawl, shaking your head.

Honestly, you excepted nothing less from Luffy. You know him better than anyone else. That's why you actually made two cakes and hid the other one where he can't get his grubby hands on it.

"You weren't supposed to eat that."

"But it was right here," he whines.

"No excuse."

He slowly pushes a piece of the cake across the table towards you.

"I saved you a piece."

You can't help but smile at that display of affection. Luffy is notorious for not sharing his food, but he always shares with you.

"Thanks, Luff," you grab a fork and sit down. "I'll forgive you this time."

He laughs, "You always forgive me, Y/n!"

You flick some cake from your fork and hit him directly on the forehead, "Only cause you're a dumbass."

He laughs harder at that, sending a splat of cake onto your cheek as he does.

Your laughter joins his as you stand and smush a larger piece of the frosted goodness into his face. He sits still for a minute before bolting to his feet and smashing his lips against yours.

Taken by surprise, you are quick to return the favour. The taste of cake on your tongue coupled with Luffy's lips is a heavenly sensation.

He breaks away with a huge grin, “I’m your dumbass, dumbass.”

You wipe some of the cake from his cheek, “We should go get washed up. You’re a mess.”

“So are you, shishishi,” he giggles.

“You two are making me sick!” Nami exclaims, having been silently judging you two for having a food fight as she sat in the corner and flipped through her ledger.

You and Luffy simultaneously stick out your tongues in her direction.

She rolls her eyes and goes back to ignoring you both. You know it’s all in good fun, Nami is your best friend after all. She just likes to tease you.

The weather has been excellent today, not a cloud in the sky. But you told Sanji you’d make dessert today, so that’s why you were in the kitchen. Luffy had snuck in after you went to tell Sanji that the cakes were done.

Now, you grab Luffy’s warm hand and drag him into the bathroom, serious about getting clean.

“Y/n, I don’t wanna,” he grumbles.

“But we’re filthy,” you reason. “Besides, I thought you didn’t mind bathing with me? Do you want me to go?”

You turn to leave, embarrassed at assuming he wanted to share a bath with you. Before you can walk out the door, hands grab your shoulders and spin you around.

Luffy pouts at you, having stretched his arms to stop you.

“Don’t leave! I didn’t mean that,” he pulls you close and you let him. “I like spending alone time with you.”

“Same here, Luff.”

You smile at him and he returns the grin. Turning the tap on, you fill the tub with hot water, adding sweet smelling suds.

Meanwhile, Luffy’s taken off his hat and shirt, tossing them on the floor. You grab a soft washcloth, getting the worst of the cake off of Luffy before focusing on yourself.

Stripping down, you and Luffy quickly step into the shower to rinse off before sinking down into the soapy water of the bath.

The tub has more than enough room for you both, but Luffy wraps his arms around you and draws you close to him. You lean back against him, smiling in his embrace.

It’s the tender moments like these that bring a swell of warmth to your heart.

Sure, you always know how much love you have for each other, but there’s something special in these quiet moments.

Normally, you’re both boisterous and loud. Making jokes and going on adventures. The last battle you went through had seriously drained your energy though. Luffy seems to realize that you need this downtime.

He slowly rubs circles into your arm with the washcloth, lazily washing you.

You let him, relaxing as he gentle cleanses you.

“Luffy, thank you.”

“What for?” He genuinely sounds confused. “I didn’t do anything?”

“Just, for being here and being you.”

“I’m always here for you, silly,” he pats your head.

“I know, I just want you to know I appreciate you.”

You take the cloth from his hand as you give him a small kiss.

“My turn,” you guide him in front of you, wanting to have a turn as the big spoon.

He obliged without question, resting his head on your bosom and gazing up into your eyes.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” you kiss his forehead as you tenderly wash his chest.

Your hands cover each of his scars, replacing the traumatic memories of how he acquired them with your loving touch instead.

Water hot around you, you secure your arms around him, sighing contentedly into the crook of his neck.

He giggles and twists to kiss your lips again, “That tickles.”

“Whoops,” you chuckle back, chasing his lips when he moves away. “Get back here.”

He splashes you with water, effectively leaving you sputtering. You grin with fire in your eyes and return the onslaught of water tenfold.

The laughter must be extremely loud, cause a bang of the door interrupts your water fight.

“Don’t make a mess in there!”

You exchange a look with Luffy before guffawing loudly, “Too late, Nami!!”

She cusses you both out loudly as you laugh hysterically and continue your fight.

“We really should get out now though,” you say after it’s calmed down a bit.

He pouts and scrunches his face.

“Guess what?” You say as you start drawing the tub and grab a fluffy towel to dry off.

“What?”

You grin mischievously, “I made two cakes.”

His eyes light up brightly, “Really?!!”

By now, you’re already clothed and have your hand on the door handle.

“Yup, and it’s all mine!” You laugh as you race from the room, leaving Luffy behind as his legs get tangled in his shorts.

“Wait, Y/n-“ he yells after you.

Laughing, you race to the kitchen, Luffy close behind you.

[cherryrainn]

hii can u pls write onceler (dom) smut w a fem reader????

YEAH I CAN!! i dunno what to do for the story since you didn't ask for one, so i'm just going to write something random, hope it's okay!

☽ ༚  ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰  ༵ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰ 

— eternal embrace

onceler (greedler) x reader

the room was bathed in the warm, golden hues of the setting sun, creating a cozy and intimate atmosphere. you sat comfortably on the window sill, enjoying a peaceful moment in the presence of your boyfriend, onceler. as he sauntered into the room, a confident smirk played on his lips.

"well, well, well, look who we have here," onceler remarked, his voice laced with playful arrogance. he ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his light-blue eyes fixated on you with a mischievous glint. "if it isn't my favorite partner in crime, sitting there, stealing the view."

he closed the door behind him, striding towards you with a self-assured swagger. leaning against the wall, he crossed his arms and cocked an eyebrow. "you know, y/n, i can't help but be so captivated by your presence. it's like a magnet, drawing me in with that irresistible charm of yours."

onceler took a deliberate step closer, his voice dropping to a seductive undertone. "you've got this way of turning heads wherever you go, babe. it's no wonder they say i'm the lucky one to have you by my side."

a smug smile played on his lips as he continued, his voice filled with unabashed confidence. "i've gotta admit, being with you, it's like having the key to the world. we make quite the pair, don't we?"

he reached out, lightly tracing a finger along your cheek. "but let's not keep it all business, babe. let's indulge in some well-deserved fun. tonight, we'll create our own adventure, just you and me. no rules, no limits."

he gave a wicked grin, eyes dancing with barely contained excitement. "we're gonna have us a time that'll last till dawn." as you stared at him, mouth agape, you felt your heart quicken. "so, whaddya say, love? wanna play nice and cozy with me?" you nodded slowly, still unable to speak.

onceler smirked, his hands sliding up your sides, cupping your breasts. "that's better. now, hold on tight, 'cause i'm about to show you a whole lotta love."

he pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you as he kissed you deeply, his tongue flicking out to tease your bottom lip. you felt yourself melt beneath his touch as he pressed you against the wall, kissing you feverishly. your legs parted, instinctively wanting more, and onceler obliged, pushing your skirt up over your hips.

onceler broke from your kiss, pulling back for air, his lips lingering on yours. "oh, you're a naughty little thing," he whispered.

you glanced down, noticing how his pants had slid further down, revealing the length of his thighs. as his fingers traced the curve of your spine, his gaze met yours, causing a shiver to run down your spine. you felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment at his blatant flirting, and didn't even bother trying to hide it.

"what would you like, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice low and husky. "tell me what you'd like, and i promise you, you'll get it."

you gulped, feeling flushed and breathless as you struggled to form the words.

"i...um..."

onceler leaned in again, his hands roaming freely across your body. "do you like the way i taste?" he breathed, sliding his hand between your thighs.

you shuddered, arching your back, moaning softly. "tell me if you like it."

onceler's fingers slipped inside you, gently stroking your wet flesh. you moaned, throwing your head back, shuddering as pleasure coursed through you.

onceler's grin widened, a devilish sparkle in his eye. "you like that, huh? i knew you were a dirty girl."

his fingers moved faster, rubbing you in a circular motion, making you whimper.

"you see, i could stop right now," he purred. "but i think you'd rather i didn't."

you gasped, gripping the fabric of his tailcoat in your fists. "yes," you breathed. onceler smiled, his fingers slowing their movements as he pulled away, gazing into your eyes. "good girl."

he slid his hands back to your waist, lifting you onto your tiptoes, his arms wrapping around your bare back. you laid your hands on his shoulders, watching as he began to unbutton his tie. as the buttons came undone, a flush crept up his neck, making his eyes glow with desire.

"oh, love," he breathed. he pulled his shirt off, tossing it aside, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath. you gazed hungrily at him, admiring every inch of his physique.

onceler's fingers grazed your collarbone, his thumb brushing across your throat. "here we are," he said, kissing your neck, his hand moving down your chest.

you parted your legs, allowing him access to you, already glistening with arousal. he dipped a finger inside again, your moans muffled by his lips.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on for dear life as he thrust his fingers in and out of you, fucking you with slow, steady strokes

onceler pulled his hand free, sucking his digits clean. "your juices are so sweet," he murmured, staring into your eyes.

you nodded slightly, biting your lip. "please..." you muttered, your voice barely audible.

onceler moved between your legs, teasing your clit with feather-light touches. you panted softly, biting your lower lip. he finally slipped inside, stretching you open, eliciting a sharp cry from you.

"shh, just relax," he cooed, kissing your temple. "just let me take care of you."

as he spoke, he began to move in a slow rhythm, his thumbs rubbing against your sensitive flesh. his touch was gentle, yet firm, sending a pleasurable shiver down your spine.

"god, you're so beautiful," he murmured, running his hands over your body. "i could watch you forever."

you gripped his shoulder, shuddering as waves of pleasure coursed through you. you'd never been touched so tenderly, and it only made you crave more.

onceler glanced down, seeing how hard your nipples had become. he bent forward, capturing one with his lips, sucking it into his mouth, drawing out a deep moan from you.

you mewled, clutching the front of his shirt. "don't stop," you begged. "i need you to give me everything."

onceler sped up, plunging deeper inside you, making you gasp. you dug your nails into his neck, burying your face in his shoulder as he fucked you with quick thrusts.

he pulled free, he traced his fingertips down your stomach, grazing your clit, causing you to buck against him.

onceler chuckled, kissing the base of your neck. "you really do love it, don't you?"

you nodded, biting your lip. "please," you pleaded.

onceler grinned, placing his hand on your hip. "okay, baby, but just remember, you only get what you ask for. now, tell me, what do you want?"

you turned your head, meeting his eyes, your voice trembling. "i...i want you."

"all yours, my love," he said, bending down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

onceler's member slipped inside you again, eliciting another sharp cry from you. he drew back, gazing into your eyes as he pushed inside, you cried out, wrapping your arms around his neck, burying your face against his shoulder.

onceler stroked your thigh, him moving inside you, playing with your clit. you whimpered, rocking against him, desperate to feel more. as he rubbed himself against you, you bit your lip, your breathing heavy.

onceler's thrusts became quicker, his member becoming rougher. you moaned loudly, your hips buckling against him. you grabbed his arms, your nails digging into his skin, the pain only adding to the pleasure. as he pounded you, his hands slid up your torso, cupping your breasts.

onceler moaned softly, rubbing your breast. you cried out, grinding against him, your legs trembling as pleasure rushed through you, pooling between your thighs.

onceler growled, his hips slamming against yours as he poured his seed inside you. he collapsed, gasping for breath, his weight resting on you.

you glanced up at him, seeing the love in his eyes. "i love you," he whispered, brushing your hair from your face.

note; don't write smut often, so it may not be the best. but i tried!

[grandline-fics]

Forget-Me-Not

DESCRIPTION: Sometimes things happen beyond our control. After an accident occurs your relationship with Zoro is turned on its head and changed forever.

WARNINGS: nothing comes to mind for this one

CHARACTERS: Zoro

WORDS: 2,572

A/N: The next chapter is here. I hope you all enjoy and have a good weekend

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four (here) | Chapter Five (coming soon)

———————

The island was drawing closer now and the entire crew couldn’t help but recall what befell them the last time. As much as they tried to look at this as the next exciting part of their adventure they still couldn’t shake the image of your injured, limp body being carried in Zoro’s arms. No one wanted to go through that again but at the same time they knew this was the life they’d chosen and danger was part of that decision. So in the middle of their lunch, conversation turned to the set plan for this island visit. 

“Thankfully from what I can see with this island, it’s populated. I can make out a dense cityscape so we can actually buy supplies we’ve been rationing.” Nami said, setting a quick sketch she’d made of the island. Even for a preliminary outline it was still detailed enough for the crew to get a better idea of what they were in for. “And because there’s a city we have to expect a Marine presence. So we need to be careful.” 

“So who’s staying on Sunny first?” Sanji asked tentatively as he lit another cigarette. Usually it would spark a debate over who would go but now there was a hesitancy amongst them all, even Luffy who still had the usual excitement light his eyes at being in a new place didn’t immediately declare he wanted to explore as much as he clearly wanted to. The group slowly looked to Zoro who continued to eat his meal, not participating in the conversation. 

“Well I know where I’ll be.” Your voice sounded dryly from the doorway, drawing everyone’s attention. They weren’t used to you leaving the medical quarters but here you stood with your empty dishes in hand. With careful steps you walked to the sink and began to wash up. “Unless you’re going to actually let me leave the ship?” 

“You’re not our captive, you can go onto the island with us!” Luffy grinned, only for his smile to falter when you looked over your shoulder and eyed him carefully, still not trusting him. “What’s wrong? Don’t you want to explore?”

“And when I want to go home?” You asked, turning off the water and turning to face the apparent Captain of this group. Your stare was hard and your mouth was set in a firm line, his was the only answer you wanted to hear at this moment. Despite his relaxed nature, if he was any kind of leader, whatever he said was to be followed by the rest of his crew. “If we go on that island and I don’t want to come back here. What then?”

“By that island’s not your home…” Luffy frowned seriously. “Sunny’s your home, you said so.”

“According to you.” You dismissed with narrowed eyes. “Answer my question. Am I allowed to go home. To my island.”

“Uuugghhh but that’s so far away it’ll take forever!” Luffy groaned out like a child being told it was his bedtime, his inability to take your question seriously was making you angry and you hand to reach behind you to grip the countertop to stop yourself from rushing over and smacking him senseless. “If you want to go back we can’t stop you. Nami, you know the way right?”

Nami froze at Luffy’s willingness to take you home to your island given how confident he was that your memories would return and everything would go back to normal. However at his question so slowly nodded. As much as she had secretly hoped Luffy’s stubbornness and selfishness would win out and he’d insist you stayed with them, she couldn’t go against him or lie. Not over this. 

“Yeah, I have the charts…but it will take months of travel.” She said, looking at you hoping you could see that she was telling the truth. “We met so long ago. Your island is near the beginning of the Grand Line, it’s not a quick trip, this will take time.”

“So just leave me on the island we’re going to, I’ll find someone to take me ba-” you flinched when Zoro slammed his bottle onto the table. Finally you tore your gaze from Luffy to watch the swordsman sit back in his seat but still refused to look at you. 

“You’re not being left behind on an island we have no knowledge about.” He spoke firmly and you bit back the urge to sneer at him. 

“I think that decision is your Captain’s.” You forced the words out as calmly as you could. You couldn’t help but think back to the card you’d found in the book. For someone that had claimed ‘love always’ he had a funny way of showing it. “Think about it, the sooner you’re all rid of me, the sooner you get back to your adventures. Win-win right?”

“It’s not happening.” Zoro snapped turning his head to glare fiercely at you. “If you want to go back to the life you had then fine, we’ll see you home but none of us are risking your safety with strangers who could hand you over to the Marines without any hesitation.”

“I’m not a pirate.” You uttered thickly, denying it with every fibre of your being. Over and over you told yourself that no matter what happened, you would be fine, that you were still a good person. Zoro seemed intent on breaking that one comforting thought. You glared furiously as the swordsman rose and approached. When he was in front of you he stopped and looked down at you, his expression even but unrelenting. While the others had been kind and patient with you, Zoro was clearly choosing the harsher path.

“No. You just don’t remember being one. That’s the difference.” He told you coldly. “If we abandon you on that island, you’re easy pickings for any bounty hunter and Marine about because like it or not you have a bounty and that’s not going away. But you’re right. The decision isn’t mine, it’s yours and Luffy’s. So do what you want, if you do end up someone’s captive don’t say I didn’t warn you.” The seconds passed by in heavy, agonising silence. No one dared to move as you and Zoro glared at each other, defiant and locked in an intense battle. Finally your upper lip curled upwards as you ground out a terse. “Fine.” Roughly you  brushed passed Zoro and headed for the door, only stopping to scowl at Luffy. “I’ll continue to take my chances with your crew so long as you promise you’ll take me home after this island.”

“I promise.” Luffy smiled. You still couldn’t wrap your head around this happy-go-lucky Captain and after your heated exchange with his second in command you left the dining area with a firm click of the door signalling your exit. 

When the sound of your steps were gone Zoro let out the heavy sigh he’d been holding. While he hated being so cold and harsh with you, it was necessary in this instance to make you see sense. He felt a small sense of relief when you relented and agreed that they’d be the ones to take you back to your island. At least this meant he could do this much for you, he could see you safely home and still know the feeling of your presence for another few months even if you wanted more than anything to be as far away from the crew as possible. There was no ‘win-win’ situation in any of this for him but as long as you got to live your life content and how you wanted then he could accept that and do his damnedest to ensure you got what you wanted regardless of how much it hurt him. 

————

“You’re sure you don’t mind me going onto the island?” Chopper asked cautiously as he looked over your mostly healed injuries the next morning. The more extreme wounds still caused you some discomfort but you were able to move as freely as you could now and knew your limits so you gave the reindeer a small smile.

“I’ll be fine, you’re only going for a day anyway and I doubt I’ll injure myself here, I’m not that clumsy.” You assured him but still he hesitated. “Chopper, I mean it I’ll be fine. Go and enjoy your exploring. You’ve been looking after me all this time, you deserve some fun.”

“I don’t though.” Chopper protested with a firm shake of his head. “I don’t deserve it.” You tilted your head at his statement. Against your better judgement you couldn’t help but had a soft spot for him. He had saved your life and nursed you to help, pirate or not you owed him a lot and given how much time he’d spent with you in your recovery it was only natural to feel a bond beginning to form with him. Chopper slowly met your gaze and you could see shame in his eyes. “It’s all my fault. That day when the storm started it was my idea to take shelter in the ruins. You got hurt because of me. You hate us because of me…Zoro’s sad and not sleeping because of me.” 

His revelation stunned you and feeling the guilt and weight of his confession had caused a lump to form in your throat. You tried to shake how hearing Chopper mention Zoro specifically made you think of the card you’d found. You weren’t going to entertain the possibility of you being in a relationship with the man. You weren’t going to start to consider that you had chosen this life. It would drive you mad otherwise. Still you couldn’t let Chopper beat himself up over what happened.

“Chopper, I can’t tell you what happened that day and I also can’t tell you that things would have been different had we done something different. I got hurt and lost my memories that’s all I know.” You began as softly as you could. “What I do know is I’m alive because you’ve been looking after me and I don’t blame you for any of it. So do me a favour and go out there and enjoy yourself okay?”

“Thank you.” Chopper sniffled before smiling brightly at you, leaning forward to hug your side as gently as he could. “Will you be okay-”

“Yes! I promise I’ll be fine.” You insisted with a small roll of your eyes. “What’s the worst that’s going to happen?”

“Well it’s just…Zoro’s the only one staying behind.” Okay, now you were reconsidering whether you would be fine on the ship.

————

For most of the morning you avoided going to the deck so you wouldn’t have to run into your only ‘companion’ for the day while the others were away. However there was only so much you could do to pass the time. Ever since you discovered the card you were hesitant to touch any of the other books that were apparently your personal possessions out of fear of finding more evidence of your history with the Strawhats. 

Then you came to the decision, if you were to trust these people to bring you home then it meant you were going to be in their company for more months ahead. Why should you be the one to hide away? You weren’t their captive so you weren’t going to act like one. Leaving the medical quarters you climbed the steps to the deck and saw that it was empty. At first you believed you were alone and continued up the next set of steps to sit in the shade of Nami’s tangerine grove but stopped to see Zoro lying on the grass, sleeping soundly. You waited for a moment but he made no reaction beyond the slow, relaxed breaths. You continued to the seats and sat in the one furthest from the man who was supposed to be the only source of protection to the ship. 

Basking in the sound of the waves gently lapping against the ship and comforting warmth coming down from the island’s summer sun, you sat back in your seat and got comfortable letting your own eyes slip closed. The second your breathing evened out and your head tilted to the side, Zoro’s good eye opened slowly. For a moment he continued to lie on the grass and stare up at the broken streams of sunlight coming through the canopy of leaves and his fingers twitched against his swords that lay against his hip. While he couldn’t sense any current threats nearby, he wasn’t taking any chances.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed until he suddenly he sensed something heading his way, sharply he snatched it in the air and looked to see the tangerine in his hand. Arching an eyebrow he glanced up to see you slowly peeling your own tangerine casually. 

“Thought you were sleeping.” He said carefully while sitting up to press his back against the wooden railing and lightly toss the tangerine you’d thrown at him into the air and catch it, the only thing he could do to occupy his thoughts and restlessness.

“Getting comfortable and sleeping are two different things.” You said simply. “Besides it’s not wise to just nap out in the open when at an unknown island. One near death experience is more than enough.” You added, pretending not to notice the way Zoro’s jaw clenched and his hands faltered slightly at your remark. You did gesture to the tangerine in his hand. “Aren’t you going to eat that?”

“And piss Nami off?” He asked sarcastically. “That’s one headache I don’t need.”

“What she got a rule about the tangerines?”

“Yeah, no touching without her permission or paying.” 

“Funny…” you mused before popping a segment of the fruit into your mouth. You chewed thoughtfully and swallowed, savouring the sweet, refreshing taste. “I don’t remember her telling me.” 

Zoro let out a small huff and smirked, shaking his head before stopping and glaring at the ground. He shouldn’t have laughed at that but for a small moment it had felt like the you he loved.

“Oh come on, that was funny! It’s going against everything in me but I’m really trying here to at least be civil.” You snapped in exasperation. “Or would you rather we fight and glare at each other the entire time I’m on this ship?”

“You’re only being civil because part of you still believes that if you’re not we’ll change our minds about taking you home.” Zoro stated making you freeze. “You don’t trust us, not entirely. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“I don’t have to tell you anything.” You deflected, looking away from him. 

“No you don’t because I already know the answer.” Zoro slowly got to his feet and turned to look at the island the others were currently on, cursing them for forcing him into this situation. He knew that they’d planned this, thinking the impossible would happen but this wasn’t helping him. 

“Okay if we’re playing the truth game then you look me in the eye and answer me this, do you love me?” Your question came suddenly and Zoro turned his head sharply, he hadn’t expected that. You remained sitting in your seat as you stared at him with eyes burning; challenging and intense and as beautiful as always. “Well? What’s the answer?”

------------------------------------------------

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