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woso-dreamzzz · 5 months

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Flirts

Mapi Leon x Reader x Ingrid Engen

Summary: Your cousin's two friends are definitely flirting with you

You meet them at a party - although calling it a party is a bit of a stretch.

You meet them at a get-together. You let yourself into your house with your key and hang your jacket up on your hook, grabbing Patri's up from where she had thrown it on the floor and placing it on a hook as well.

You toe off your shoes and ignore the chatter from the living room in favour of grabbing a drink. You sigh deeply when you see the dishes in the sink.

"Patricia!" You yell," I mean this in the nicest way possible, I don't care if you're friends are here, but I need these dishes cleaned up tonight."

You can hear your cousin swear at the use of her name as well as quiet giggling from her teammates.

You linger in the doorway, arms crossed over your purple scrubs. "I mean it," You say firmly," They've been in the sink since last night."

"Yeah, Patri," Pina teases, nudging her with a foot," Go and clean up after yourself."

You roll your eyes. "You can help, Pina," You say," Seeing as I know you ate my leftovers last night."

The pair both huff but do as you say. Your eyes rove over the assembled football players. You recognise a few of them personally but some from only when you've seen them on tv.

They watch you in silence, some of them wide-eyed.

"How is Nala?"

Alexia's face lights up. "She is good. Better now that her fur has grown back!"

You let out a laugh. "Well, if she hadn't gotten gallstones then I wouldn't have had to shave her." You glance down at your phone, checking your calendar. "I'm still seeing her next week, right? To get her stitches removed?"

"Si," Alexia says," Gracias, y/n, for having her seen so quickly."

You shrug. "Well, when there's a dog as cute as Nala getting them seen quick is my first priority."

Alexia beams at you before saying to the rest of the group," This is Patri's cousin. She's a vet, the one that saved Nala. y/n, this is Ona, Lucy, Keira, Mapi and Ingrid. They all play for Barca."

"Of course," You roll your eyes," It's nice to meet you all." You move to leave but one of the girls on the sofa catches your wrist - Mapi, you think.

Her eyes shine with something you're not familiar with as she exchanges a look with Ingrid, whose lap she is sitting in. "You cannot stay?"

You glance at the clock, not exactly sure why you're entertaining this girl who's clearly in a relationship. "I have a surgery tomorrow."

Her girlfriend moves her head to look at you. "What kind of surgery?"

It's like they both knew how to draw you in, ready and incredibly willing to listen to you talk about the pulmonary stenosis you were correcting tomorrow.

At some point in the conversation, Mapi and Ingrid had separated, moving to different ends of the sofa until you were sandwiched between them. As you spoke, detailing the work you did as one of the few cardiothoracic veterinary specialists in Spain, Mapi's hand came to rest on your thigh and Ingrid propped her head up on her arm and used her hand to gently brush your hair out of your face.

Madre Mia.

They were flirting with you.

●～●～●～●～

You thought it was a one-night occurrence, the innocent flirting and the affectionate touches. You thought that they would remain Patri's teammates who you would occasionally see at games and far away from your actual life out of your cousin's spotlight.

But they start appearing everywhere.

Sometimes together.

Sometimes alone.

Ingrid at your favourite coffee place.

Mapi hanging around the park near your house.

Both of them 'bumping into you' while shopping.

It gets progressively more and more until your day is ruined by not seeing or hearing from them. It's completely seamless the way that they've inserted themselves into your lives.

You're sitting in the crowd at El Clásico when you start to realise that this might be a bit more serious than you originally thought.

You're introduced to Jana, Bruna and Frido as Alexia approaches, extremely happy to announce that Nala is much better than before.

"Oh, I know who you are," Frido replies," Mapi and Ingrid won't shut up about you. You're the vet."

You're a bit confused that Mapi and Ingrid have been talking about you to Frido, even more embarrassed when she reveals that you're all they ever talk about now - the fact that you've made it rich as a cardiothoracic specialist but still helped Nala with her gallbladder despite it making you little to no money compared to your usual work, the fact that you know all the secret backroads and hole in the wall shops around the city.

Everything and anything you've even mentioned in passing to them has been reported to Frido, who laughs slightly at your shell-shocked face.

"They're obsessed with you," She says," And I know for a fact that Patri's been helping them bump into you. You know, Mapi said that she was worried about asking Patri for your number."

Your cheeks colour. You hadn't realised that you meant so much to the couple, who seamlessly brought you into their orbit without even thinking much about it, seducing you into their lives with sweet words and soft touches.

Your mouth opens and closes for probably the whole of the match and it's not until you're let onto the field to congratulate your cousin and Pina, that you finally manage to gather your thoughts.

Mapi crashes into your back at speed, nearly bowling you over but Ingrid's already there, ready to catch you. You're pushed into her front and, with Mapi at your back, you're held hostage between them as they speak to you.

You don't exactly want to escape them though, content and happy between them.

"Bah!" Mapi complains when she pulls away and spies your Patri shirt. "Do you have to wear that?"

You laugh in disbelief as Ingrid moves to settle her arm around your shoulder while Mapi threads your fingers together. "She's my cousin. I think she would be upset if I didn't. Besides, what was I meant to wear up in the Barca box? White for Madrid?"

Both of them make a face.

"Or mine," Mapi says with a silly grin and a blown-out look in her eyes as if she's imagining it," Or Ingrid's. Actually, definitely Ingrid's. You'd look hot in her shirt."

Your cheeks flush - a regular occurrence when you're with the pair of them.

"I think yours," Ingrid replies," She would look equally as good in it." She winks at you. "But I wouldn't be opposed to you wearing mine either."

Your cheeks grow hotter and you bury your head in Ingrid's chest to try and hide your blush.

Mapi doesn't let you though. Her fingers capture your chin and she pulls you to face her. Ingrid rests her own chin on your shoulder and her hands go around your waist, securing you in place.

"Don't look away, amor," Mapi says and her voice drops to some form of purr that you're too busy overthinking to put a proper name to," We like to see when we make you all pretty and red."

"It's our favourite thing about you," Ingrid whispers in your ear and you have to clench your jaw to stop yourself from crying out in public," How you react when we hold you close and don't let go."

●～●～●～●～

You hide out in your house after that interaction, pacing up and down the halls like you're crazy, which completely freaks Patri out.

All those times, you had thought that it was a harmless game to them, flirting with you, buying you gifts, taking you out on things that we're most definitely dates now that you think about. You thought it was just them spicing up their relationship with each other, spoiling you to make the other jealous so they could go home and have epic sex - you almost shut down completely when you think about how good Mapi and Ingrid would be in bed.

But, clearly, your growing crush had been mutual and that's enough to make you go into a complete tailspin.

You don't see them for a few days anyway - travelling to Valencia to perform an open heart surgery on some philanthropist's poor dog. When you come home, it's with a very welcome stowaway.

"No," Patri gasps as she says you stroll in with Bambi in your arms.

It turns out your new client (who also was so thankful for you saving his eldest dog's life) had gifted you one of the newest from his Shiba Inu's litter.

She was undoubtedly small, practically a runt but you fell in love with her the moment she climbed into your lap as you took a refreshment break after surgery and licked your nose.

"Si," You say to Patri, who is already taking pictures," Her name's Bambi."

Patri's friends all end up coming over, cooing over Bambi who takes it so well that you've got no worries about her socialisation.

That's when you next see Mapi and Ingrid.

Mapi walks up behind you, arm automatically around your waist. "You look good as a mama," She says as you both watch Alexia coo over your puppy," She'll be in great hands."

You grin. "Safest hands in Spain," You joke, lifting them up," If you go by my lack of complications after surgery."

Mapi rests one of her hands against your palm. Hers are bigger than yours, and rougher from days of lifting weights and doing pull-ups in the gym. Yours are softer by comparison, used to precision needlework and lightly holding a scalpel to make the tiniest of incisions.

"You have nice hands," She says after a moment and she watches your face redden. She leans in. "I wonder what else they're good at."

You catch the implication and an embarrassing squeak slips from your lips. Mapi grins like a wolf and pulls away, hand dropping but keeping an arm around your waist, pulling you into her body.

Ingrid appears in the next moment. She shares a tender kiss with Mapi and winks at you as they pull away.

"Motherhood suits you," She says, her accent causes something to stir within you," You're glowing."

You fix your eyes on Bambi, who's running around trying to see who will give her treats next. "It's not like I was pregnant," You try to defend yourself but from the corner of your eye, Ingrid peels away from Mapi to join you at your other side. Her arm closes around your shoulder, fingers drawing patterns on the exposed skin of your arm.

"Hmm," She says dismissively of your statement," How was the surgery? Good? Seeing as you came home with a cutie like Bambi."

"Rich guys are generally annoying but this one was pretty cool. He has a lot of animals but he cares deeply for them all." You frown. "I think he's keeping me on a retainer now. I didn't think you could do that for vets, just lawyers."

"You clearly seduced him, amor," Mapi says," You're good like that, getting people to fall for you."

Ingrid's tongue darts out to wet her lips. "Yes, she's very good at that."

●～●～●～●～

It all comes to a head just two weeks after El Clásico.

You've left Bambi at a friend's house and Patri's dragged you out to a club with some of her friends.

You're completely sober though, Patri's only way home, but you still end up dancing.

Somewhere along the night, Mapi and Ingrid (equally as sober) join you.

You're sandwiched between them again - Ingrid at your back and Mapi at your front.

Ingrid's hands are on your waist so even if you wanted to fall out of their orbit, you can't.

Your dancing gets more and more sensual as time goes on until you catch Mapi's eyes.

She's grinning like she usually is when you're caught in Ingrid's grip - like a wolf. It happens in slow motion for you.

She leans forward, ever so slightly and your heart beats erratically in your chest. Your lips connect and fireworks go off in your brain. You move on instinct, kissing back and the guilt appears only as she pulls away.

Your eyes widen in alarm and you dart them towards Ingrid, an apology already on your tongue.

You had a crush on both of them, that's true, but kissing Mapi in front of her girlfriend was crossing a line that you shouldn't have crossed.

But Ingrid's grinning down at you and steals a kiss as well, flicking her tongue into your mouth with ease. Her hands move up to your face, leaving Mapi to hold onto your hips.

Your knees feel a little weak when she pulls away.

"You were right," Ingrid says to Mapi although her eyes are still on you," She does taste good."

The implications of that makes your heart skip a beat. They've been talking about you together, about how you react to them, about how you taste.

"You're so dense, amor," Mapi says to you as recognition of every interaction you've had with them suddenly starts to make perfect sense," So book smart, the best vet in the country but so dense. We've been flirting with you for months now."

"Since we saw you that night at Patri's," Ingrid continues," We just knew we had to have you." All those dates. All those little gifts." Her hand comes to rest on the junction between your neck and shoulder. "We're gonna treat you so well, elskling. You just have to say yes."

"Gonna make you our girlfriend," Mapi says as open-mouthed kisses are pressed against the other side of your neck," Gonna take you home with us tonight, if you'll let us. Just say yes."

You don't even have to think about it.

"Yes."

#woso x reader #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso community #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso

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stuffeddeer · 4 months

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imagine mistaking beastzai as your usual dazai (you thought he wanted to be emo for a day) and like did usual silly cute things with him then dazai came home and he’s like HUH WHO IS THIS GUY R U CHEATING ON ME :(( but in the end you have… double boyfriends but one’s moody and one’s fucking annoying

anons that think alike omg telepathy … use ur powers for good!!! two asks in one btw i feel so productive

alsooo beast!dazai would be giddy like a child to be in the main tl w his love… he’d be twirling you around and enjoying what could’ve been before he has to go back!!! all dazais are cringy and in love w u it's true they told me themselves !!!!

“What’s with the outfit?” You spoke bluntly, clearly a little put off by the reappearance of the black coat and red scarf. “Dude, you look like Mori.” Harsh, sure, but your boyfriend worked so hard to walk alongside you in the light, so the last thing you wanted was to see what would’ve been, if not for —

Dazai smiled, seemingly amused. “Ah, love, it’s merely a costume. Thought you’d get a kick out of it,” he replies easily, pulling off the long red scarf: a staple of the Port Mafia’s boss.

His words help to relax you, letting out a small sigh as you push the coat off of his shoulders. “Let me grab you your coat, I know it’s around here somewhere…” You flittered about your shared apartment, pulling a backup brown coat from its spot buried underneath your closet. “This better suits you,” you speak under your breath as Dazai pulls it on. The fit seems a little… different. Is it somehow looser than normal? You frown.

“Thank you, love,” he repeated the same pet name. It felt as though he missed saying it, which doesn’t quite make sense.

You choose not to dwell on it — maybe seeing him in black again just rewired your brain for a moment. He’s alive and well in front of you and nothing else matters. A nod is all the reply Dazai gets before you slip on your shoes.

“I thought you might have headed to work early when I didn’t see you in bed this morning, but I guess that’s my fault for assuming the impossible,” you decide to tease.

Dazai easily slips behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin against your shoulder. “Mm… I love you, you know that? Let’s skip work today. We can spend time together, ‘kay?”

He’d always been unpredictable and spontaneous, so you merely laughed in response. “I don’t have work today, remember? But you still do.”

Shaking his head, he pouts — there’s the Dazai you love. “Nope!~ I refuse to go into work today. I’m spending my whole day with my love!” He practically jumps for joy, hands moving to gently hold your waist. “Let’s bake cookies.”

There isn’t much you can do, watching with an amused grin as Dazai unties your shoes before dragging you to the kitchen.

“It does not take two hours to make cookie dough…” you sigh, trying to jostle the white flour from your hair. “We baked cookies together, like, two weeks ago! How could we already have forgotten everything…”

Dazai grins, planting kiss after kiss on your cheeks, melted butter staining your skin from when he accidentally tried to drink from the cup you’d used to soften it. “Hard to remember much when I’m with you.”

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” You chuckled, grabbing a towel from the counter to wipe both your face and his lips.

“Yep!~ It’s like.. my love is so pretty I can’t think when I’m around them! Oh, I could just die in… No! I don’t even want to die! I could live in your arms, grow old together and watch you get all frail and saggy,” Dazai speaks dreamily, swooning over the idea of growing old with you. How sweet.

You push him away gently and begin balling up the chocolate chip cookie dough, pressing it onto the silver pan you made Dazai buy when you first started staying over. “Saggy? No, I’ll be young and beautiful forever,” you joke, but Dazai only nods in response.

“It’s true! No one holds a candle to my love. Why, I wish I could spend every day just staring at you.” Dazai’s voice always sounded teasing when he was with you, but even as you put the last of the cookie dough onto the tray (only had enough to fill one, since Dazai kept spilling, throwing or eating the ingredients..) you could feel the genuineness in his words.

Oven preheated, you slid the sheet in to bake (making sure to start the timer) before turning to Dazai. Before you could get a word in, the front door to your shared apartment creaked open. Heart dropping to your stomach, you grabbed the closest thing to you: a whisk your boyfriend had licked clean. Said boyfriend only seemed to sigh, falling into a more somber mood, head hanging before he sent you a sad smile.

“I think the jig is up, love…”

Your name is called from the front door, the voice… suspiciously familiar. “Are you in there? You weren’t answering your phone and I got worried...” Dazai stepped into your apartment, hanging his keys by the door before turning around (an addition you made, since he tended to forget his and jumpscare you by picking the lock every few days).

The three of you stood still, no words spoken and the only sound being that of your metal whisk dropping to the floor. Spinning from one Dazai to the next, you wiped a splotch of flour from your shirt collar. You felt guilty for some reason, like you were at fault for not recognizing an imposter Dazai, and wanted to make yourself look more presentable.

“Awww, love!” The Dazai at the door pouts, throwing his coat on the floor as he quickly heads over to you. “Are you cheating on me?” He continues, slouching over you to impose as much of his weight as he can. You struggle for a moment, his bone crushing hug enveloping more than you expected.

Guilt still apparent as your tummy twisted, you shook your head. “I didn’t— “

The other Dazai, the one wearing a black tie and covered in various cookie ingredients pouted as well. “Maybe she’s cheating on me! I mean, I can’t believe my love moved in with another man…”

God, this was too confusing. You gently pushed Dazai A off of you, stepping back from the two. “I don’t— “

“I can’t believe this… I head to work early one time and now you’re making cookies for someone else!” Dazai A whined, face smooshed against the oven door’s glass in longing. “I’ll never be on time again! In fact, I think I’ll always have to be late.”

Dazai B pulled Dazai A back towards him by his collar, whispering obnoxiously, “I’ll share the cookies if you share the beautiful partner.”

Dazai A nods in approval, eyes closed and arms crossed like it was the easiest decision to make in the world. “I want half the sheet. And, I want a kiss…” He pouts towards you. Ugh, how annoying.

You deadpan towards the two, no longer feeling guilty. These two were just as much Dazai as they could get. Arms spread, you let Dazai A pull you into a hug so you can give him a proper welcome home kiss. “Both of you are obnoxious. Is that all I’m worth? Half a sheet of cookies?”

“Half a sheet of your cookies,” Dazai B grins. “That’s not something either of us would give up lightly.” The other Dazai nods in agreement.

Both of your stupid, annoying, clingy boyfriends tug on your sleeves, forcing you over to the couch so they can both receive your affections while the cookies bake.

the timer goes off after a while but they both whine about not wanting to let u get up. once you threaten letting the cookies burn they're quick to let go. i hate them both.

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little-diable · 2 months

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Carnal Sin - Priest!Tom Riddle (smut)

I desperately needed to get this out of my system, I ain't sorry for that. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader's mother had begged Priest Riddle to let the reader join his bible study, a bratty woman who wanted to make his life a living hell. Now it was time to finally teach her a lesson.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (m), face fucking, man handling, spanking, religious connotations, Tom being Tom

Pairing: Priest!Tom Riddle x fem!reader (2k words)

“How can you possibly believe that?” Her laughter echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls as if demons were carrying the sound. All eyes were focused on her, wide eyes that trembled with fear because of the blasphemous words she kept on speaking. But she didn’t care about them, didn’t even remember their names, no, all she cared about was the pair of dark pupils staring her down.

“Excuse me?” His voice was sharp, urged on by the need to put her in her place. All other eyes snapped back to him, lowering their gazes in fear of the priest who was known for punishing those who didn’t dare listen. But she didn’t fear him, taunting him whenever their paths crossed.

“Oh, don’t give me that. You and I both know you don’t believe in any of that yourself. Turning water into wine? That’s witchcraft, and witches should be burned, according to your little storybook at least.” Gasps followed her words, sounds that left (y/n) grinning as if she was the Devil herself, joining the bible study to make it a living hell for those who desperately clung to their belief. For a few seconds, he didn’t speak up, holding eye contact with her from his spot, but as she parted her lips to speak, once again set on laughing words she shouldn’t pronounce, he cleared his throat.

“We’ll end our session here, I need to have a word with (y/n), alone.” She tried not to pay the heat his words shot through her any attention, trying not to squeeze her thighs together as she watched him rise to her feet. Neither of them spoke a word as the others hurriedly left the room, closing the door to give the two some privacy. Her eyes didn’t leave his frame once, the tall figure she’d imagine whenever she let her hands wander, chasing that high she was desperate for. Priest Riddle was dangerously handsome, fooling anybody whenever he wasn’t wearing his collar.

And yet she knew it was nothing more than a game, a game whose rules he was making. But she had never been good at following rules, set on breaking them like branches snapping beneath her shoes.

“I wasn’t optimistic when your mother begged me to let you join, you know? I knew you’d only cause me more problems. But I promised your mother to try, to give you a chance. Well let me tell you, (y/n), I’ve never been a patient man. I think it’s time you learn a lesson.” The chuckle rumbling through her left him smirking, something she clearly didn’t understand fully to anticipate what he’d do to her tonight.

“A lesson? What, should I fall to my knees and pray ten Hail Mary’s?” He crossed the room towards (y/n) with fast steps, hand shooting out to grasp her throat before she could flinch away. A shaky gasp left her at the touch, feeling his cold rings burn into her skin. Priest Riddle stared her down as if she was now living through her last judgment, set on taking her down to hell with him.

“A prayer won’t help you no more, God doesn’t answer the calls of sinners like you. The only one you’ll pray to will be me.” She was forced to her feet for a second, lips parted to let an excited sigh leave her. This is what she had been working for, knowing that he would eventually give in, eventually cross that line he had sworn to stay away from. But even a priest had his enemies, the carnal sin calling his name in quiet hours.

“Let's hope your mouth knows what it’s doing. Onto your knees, let me fuck those bratty words out of you.” She could have sworn that his eyes grew darker as he spoke the words, watching her drop to her knees without a single protest leaving her. “I should have known, you’ll enjoy whatever I’m doing to you. It’s all about the power you think you have, forcing me to do something I promise I never would. Let me tell you, (y/n), even priests can beg for forgiveness, and forgiveness He shall always grant me.”

For the first time since meeting Priest Riddle, she felt some fear swapping through her, wondering if she was finally burning from the reckless play with fire. It was an unfamiliar sensation, yet so awfully exciting, she could only stare up at him with a smirk.

He did quick work of his trousers, freeing his hard cock from the confines of his clothes. He was beautiful, a man crafted by God, what a shame he was destined to hide away beneath the black suits he wore. (Y/n) followed his ringed fingers, how he grasped his cock to push himself closer to (y/n).

“Open that mouth of yours, let’s see how much you can take.” It was a dangerous game, and yet (y/n) had always lived for the thrill. She parted her lips, tongue exposed to his dark eyes. Within seconds he had forced his cock into her mouth, to the back of her throat. She gagged around him, had her vision instantly blurred by tears.

Without waiting for any commands, she hallowed her cheeks, letting her tongue explore his cock for a moment before he began to move. Priest Riddle’s ringed hand found the back of her head, holding her in place as he fucked her mouth, high on the sound of her gasps, chokes, sounds he’d forever remember. She was a pretty sacrifice, worth the trouble she had forced him through, that much he was certain of.

“How can there be no God when we get to experience something like this?” His raspy voice left her shuddering, words she could barely focus on, too concentrated on the feeling of his cock fucking her mouth. No other man had ever been this rough with her, and yet she knew that she had been addicted to Priest Riddle from the first day, hoping that they’d eventually end up like this.

“Such pretty sounds for a woman this dangerous, it’s amazing how you try to fool those around you.” He spat his words as he used more speed for his thrusts, enjoying her gasps a tad bit too much, wanting to force his cock down her throat. But he wouldn’t give in, no, he’d only give in when he was buried inside of her, fucking her into oblivion. Perhaps she’d find her way back to God when he showed her the entry to the pearly gates, torn between two worlds as he fucked her breathless.

Spit dripped from her chin, making a mess on the dark carpet she was kneeling on. She was desperate for some friction, trying to shuffle closer, and yet he didn’t allow her to go far, held in place by his tight grasp. Their eyes met, his full of danger, hers full of desperation, begging the man to finally pull her to her knees, to fuck her like she needed him to.

“Do you think you deserve to be touched? Do you think you deserve to cum? I should have known you’ll turn into a cock-hungry whore the second I touch you.” A gasp left (y/n) as he pulled away, forcing her to her feet seconds later. She was pushed towards the black leather couch, trying to sit down though it seemed as if she was too slow for him. With his hand finding its way back to her hair, Tom manhandled her down onto the couch, drawing an excited moan from (y/n).

“Open those legs, show me how wet you are from sucking my cock.” A whine left her at his words, legs spread to expose her soaked panties to him, hidden beneath her skirt. His cold fingers wandered up her legs, he shuffled her skirt up to her waist before he pushed her panties aside. The groan that left him at the sight of her bare cunt shot shudders down (y/n)’s spine, eyes close to falling shut. “Look at me, don’t you dare to even think of looking away.”

His palm came down onto her cunt, spanking the soft skin with more force than anticipated. (Y/n) choked on her gasps, eyes wide as she stared up at the smirking priest. Her lungs were aching, trying to hold onto her breath as she kept choking on the air flushing through her lungs, too excited to even speak up.

“I can’t wait to fuck you stupid, force you to take every inch.” Priest Riddle’s words were enough to leave her moaning and gasping as he flipped her around. He had her pressed against the armrest while he positioned himself behind her.

“I’m on the pill, just fuck me, please.” His raspy chuckles filled the room, leaving her walls clenching in anticipation. (Y/n) felt him brush the tip of his cock through her slit for a second before he pushed into her, her eyes instantly fell close, fingers tightening their grip on the armrest with her nails clawed into the fabric.

“God should strike you down for the sinful words you speak, allowing a man to fuck you because you’re selfish, wanting to give in.” She shuddered against him, unable to speak as he fucked her. His hips snapped against her behind with every thrust, forcing himself even deeper into her cunt, enjoying the way she felt wrapped around him all too tightly.

“Fuck, feels so good.” (Y/n) mumbled the words, not trusting herself to speak up, voice caught in the back of her throat as he fucked her breathless. This is what they have been warned of, the carnal sin, a feeling so intense only those who weren’t allowed to touch one were able to make one feel.

“And for that, you will submit to me from now on, you won’t go against me no more. You’re mine now, forever mine.” A sob clawed through (y/n), she didn’t understand the depth of the words he spoke, could only choke on a “Yes”, too focused on her high to overthink the consequences she’d have to face. Consequences of actions she had been desperate to go through with. Drunk on the feeling of her priest fucking her breathless.

“Oh God, I’m so close, don’t stop.” Her words left him chuckling, she felt him near her ear, growling the words that were about to roll off his tongue.

“God can’t help you now.” She choked on her breaths, eyes rolling into her head as she sneaked a hand down her body. Her bundle of nerves pulsed against her fingers, giving herself the last final push to fall over the edge. The white, blinding sensation shot through her, leaving (y/n) trembling as he kept fucking her.

His breaths grew shallow, she felt him twitch deep inside of her, about to cum with a devilish grin glued to his lips. (Y/n) had to cling to the couch, scared she’d faint from the intensity of her orgasm, unable to think straight as she was panting. The priest pulled out of her seconds before he came, painting her ass with his cum.

Wordlessly he pulled away to reach for a towel. He cleaned her with a hum leaving him, staring down at her and the fucked-out expression she wore. Only slowly did she dare to turn around, looking up at him with wide eyes. She didn’t flinch as he cupped her cheek, forcing his thumb down on her tongue for a second.

“I expect you back here tomorrow morning, don’t even dare to think that this was your only lesson.”

#Tom Riddle smut #priest fic #Tom Riddle imagine #Tom Riddle x reader #harry potter smut

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probablysimpledreams · 1 month

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You're All I Desire

(Dazai x reader: NSFW)

a/n: omfg it has been a moment since I've written a full fic but here I am !!! the idea for this one has been on my mind ALL DAMN DAY bc the Dazai brainrot has been so real lately my man <3 my man <3 my mannnnn <333 so enjoy some smut xoxo

cw: mention of masturbation (reader getting off by thinking of Dazai & Dazai getting off by thinking of reader), use of clit vibrator, gender neutral reader however reader does have female parts, Dazai refers to reader as "Bella" aka his famous Belladonna petname, Dazai eating reader out, thigh hickeys

word count: a tad over 1.6k

You mentally curse yourself as you pull up to your apartment complex, putting the car in park. After turning off the car, you and Dazai begin heading up into your apartment. Of course of all the days in the world, the day you're assigned to help Dazai with a case is the day you leave all the documents you needed to give him at home. It already took you an entire week to convince Kunikida to let you take them home so you could continue work later into the night with the comfort of your own TV and snacks right at your fingertips. If only you had woken up ten or twenty minutes earlier, then you wouldn't have been rushing out the door this morning.

"Okay they should be-," your eyes widen at the disastrous sight that was awaiting you behind the door. "FUCK ME!" you exclaim as you throw your shoes at the entranceway, Dazai's faint laugher in the background as he follows your lead. "I promise it's usually this bad," you sigh as you turn to Dazai, turning back to the mess of an apartment in front of you. This week you promised to cat sit for your friend, assuring them the cat would feel right at home in your apartment. What your friend failed to mention was their cat's love for wrecking havoc in new places.

"It's cute~" Dazai chuckles as he looks around your messy yet cozy apartment. "You have a good eye for decor," he mentions as he begins walking around the living room, giving himself a self guided tour. You smile at his compliment, trying not to show how nervous having him in your apartment makes you.

It was pretty obvious to everyone at the office that you had a little crush on Dazai. I mean, how could you not? Not only was he beautiful, but he was funny and smart and so much deeper than the persona he puts on for the world. Something deep inside wants to unravel these layers he hides himself under, both literally with bandages and emotionally with his charming nature.

You only allowed yourself to fantasize so much about him though since you were unsure what he felt about you. Sure he flirted with you almost daily, but at what point is that Dazai just simply being Dazai? You always allowed yourself to indulge in his flirting advances, but never forgot that it was just a workplace crush.

"Shit and they were right here," you sigh, palm of your hand hitting your forehead in frustration as you stand in front of your desk. Dazai looked over your shoulder, scanning the desk covered in old papers, a random book, pictures of you and your friends, and random trinket. A small smile forms on his lips as he studies these items, imaging you sitting here at night hard at work. The thought made his heart skip a beat. You were too cute for your own good.

"Time to get searching then!" Dazai exclaims, a little too excited for your liking. However, he was right as these documents needed to be found as soon as possible. You began looking around the desk as Dazai trailed off to other rooms. Too focused on finding these documents and keeping your job, you didn't may much attention to him doing as he pleased. Dazai smiled and hummed to himself as he peaked into your bedroom, admiring how your personality was so clearly visible through your decor. He couldn't help himself as he began scanning your book shelf before moving to your bed, poking the random plushies threatening to fall off your bed. He then finds his way to your nightstand, chuckling at the random assortment of things you sleep by. After scanning the small table, he raises an eyebrow at the halfway opened top drawer. Curiosity getting the better of him, he opens the drawer fully. Oh and is he happy he did.

"Phew okay Dazai I found the papers! We should get going or else-," your jaw almost dropped as you stared at the sight in front of you. Never in a million years did you image you would walk into your bedroom to find Dazai sitting on your bed, twirling your vibrator lazily in his hand. "Put that away. We're leaving."

"But I didn't get a chance to play with my new toy," he pouts.

"Dazai, I'm being serious." You try not to show how embarrassed you are, knowing it will only fuel his flames.

"So I am," he smirks as you walk towards him, trying to take the vibrator from his hands. "Tell me Bella~ Tell me all the fantasies you have of me when playing with yourself~" he teased, waving the wand around. You go silent at his taunt, face feeling flushed as you try to get words out. I mean of course you can't help yourself some nights, allowing yourself to get fully lost in the idea of Dazai touching you, pleasuring you. His name leaving your mouth in a muffled whimper as you finally find release. But he didn't know this, right? Because that would be weird. You wanted to yell at him for even thinking such nasty things, but your face gave the truth away.

Dazai's heart nearly stopped beating as he watched you fight yourself at his taunts. You usually never get this worked up over him, that's when he realizes: you actually do get off to him. His head almost exploded at the thought of you alone in your room, desiring him and only him. He was only half way kidding when he made this comment to you, not realizing you felt as much for him as he did you. He's had a full blown crush on you since you began working for the agency, but never expected his advances to go anywhere. He also was guilty of getting himself off to thoughts of you, letting desire run rapidly through his veins most nights. However, he wrote it off as another sin he will one day have to answer for. He would have never expected you to commit the same sin. The idea drove him crazy. Without thinking, he pulled you by your shirt into a sloppy kiss.

Your eyes widen as he pulls you in suddenly, but it doesn't take long for you to melt into the kiss. He helped you get seated on his lap, your body slowly grinding against his as the kiss deepened. You wrapped your arms around his neck, hands tugging at his hair as you two continued making out on your bed, like two horny teenagers. The last thing on either your or Dazai's mind was getting back to the office as you felt a familiar wetness between your legs, and Dazai's hardening cock. The two of you pull away from each other's lips, a smile on his face as you pant.

"You're easy to get worked up~" he teased, making you roll your eyes and chuckle. Even in a heated moment he was too much, and you loved him for. "Here, let me help you." He shifts where he is sitting, lowering you onto your back. Once you're comfortably laying on your back, he slides your pants and underwear off so he can begin softly kissing your thighs. You whine as his lips leave soft, teasing kisses along your flesh.

"A-aah," you shut your eyes as he bites down on your inner thigh, sucking on the skin until a dark mark is formed. He chuckles before tracing the area with his tongue, leaving more soft kisses along this sensitive area of your body. "D-Dazai....please.....please touch me," you whine, becoming impatient as he repeats this process along your other thigh.

"How could I ever say no to you, ______~" he smiled as he turned the vibrator on, immediately finding the highest setting. You scream out as the toy made contact with your clit, an amused smile spreading across Dazai's face. He began moving the wand up and down, eyes glued to the way your body trembled as the vibrations shot through your body. Your hands began gripping the sheets as you quietly moaned out his name.

"That won't do," he sighed before applying more pressure to how he was holding the wand, increasing the vibrations on your clit.

"D-DAZAI!" you exclaim.

"Much better~" he teases as he continues playing with you, practically drooling at the sight of you. You're so close to coming, and Dazai can tell. You whine as he suddenly pulls the toy away from you, head shooting up to look at him and see what on earth he thinks he's doing.

"Dazai what the f-OH FUCK," you throw your head back as his mouth makes contact with your swollen clit. You moan as his tongue swirls around, his hands gripping your thighs to keep your legs wide open. You scream a mix of curses and his name as your legs shake, Dazai's face becoming slick with your juices. It doesn't take too long until you reach your climax, pulling at his hair as your thighs practically suffocate him. Dazai doesn't slow down, making your eyes roll back in pleasure as you ride out your high. Your legs continue to shake as you try to steady your breathing, watching as he sits up to wipe his face, massive grin shining on his face.

You smile up at him, starting to sit up yourself. "We should probably actually start hea-," you're cut off by him pushing you back down on the bed with one hand as his other hand begins undoing his belt.

"Oh, Bella," he smirks, "we're only getting started~"

#bsd dazai #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #dazai smut #bsd x reader #bsd fanfic #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd smut #bungo stray dogs smut

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toournextadventure · 2 months

Text

a novel life pt.4

Summary: You were really starting to understand a few things about the younger generation. For example, every time you looked at Sam, you thought "I can fix her." It was happening a bit too frequently for your liking.

Word Count: 4.8k Warnings: Swearing, Scream levels of violence, suggestive themes Pairing: Samantha Carpenter x Reader (pt.1) (pt.2) (pt.3) (pt.4)

“Baby?”

You kept your eyes on whatever was on the floor.

“You broke it.”

“Tara, shut up.”

“Look at me.”

It wasn’t moving.

“Hey.”

The red creeped and crawled toward the flowers on the ground.

“Baby.”

Hands held both sides of your face and tried to pull you in the other direction. Gentle, but firm. It didn’t matter, they could pull all they wanted, it didn’t stop your eyes from staying glued to the thing in the middle of the living room floor. The shape was familiar, and you were aware that you should recognise it. But the harder you looked, the more the shape seemed to blur and distort.

“Stop looking at it.” Sam. “Look at me.”

You couldn’t.

You opened your mouth to answer, stopped to clear your throat, and started again. “Is that a body?”

Everyone seemed to hesitate.

“Yes,” Sam answered.

You nodded slowly.

“Is it dead?”

“I thought you were supposed to be smart.”

A sigh. “Tara.”

“Yes,” Sam repeated.

You nodded again. The red almost touched your shoes.

“It’s a dead body?”

“Jesus fuck, Sam, get them out.”

“Come on,” Sam said softly, keeping her hold on your face to pull you with her.

Your eyes never left the scene until she had pulled you into her room and shut the door behind you both. There was a dead body in Sam’s living room. A body. A dead one. In the living room. Right there on the floor. Visible to god and anyone who opened the front door. Which included you.

“You need to breathe,” Sam said. “Look at me and breathe.”

You inhaled deeply and blinked slowly. Only when you opened your eyes did you actually see Sam for the first time that evening. She looked stunning, as usual. Her beautiful brown eyes looked lovely in the artificial light of the apartment. You tried not to notice the blood on her arms.

Not even her beautiful, kissable face could distract you from the scene that had plastered itself behind your eyelids.

“There’s a dead body on your floor,” you said.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Sam said with a humourless chuckle.

“It looks like a dead body,” you repeated, “in your living room.”

She sighed. “Maybe it is what it looks like, but I can explain.”

You shook your head and took a half step back. Did you want an explanation? Perhaps you could act like you hadn’t seen anything. That would create plausible deniability, would it not? No, not entirely, you had still seen a body in your girlfriend’s apartment. Your deniability wouldn’t be that plausible.

As you took another half step back, you were finally far enough away to realise what was hanging off Sam’s frame. A black cloak. Or robe. Whatever it was, it was familiar. Very familiar. The only thing missing was the mask. Your head tilted slightly.

Perhaps you liked the robe. It looked… nice.

“Please let me explain,” Sam said as she stepped closer.

You took a step back, but nodded in her direction.

“He followed Tara home because he thought she was a kid,” she said. “It was for good reason.”

Good reason. Someone had died. Horrifically, if the amount of blood was anything to go by. And the amount of knives. Someone had clearly suffered. What about that explanation made it such a good-

-oh.

Okay, perhaps it was a good reason.

“Is this the first…” you sighed and shook your head, “accident?”

The way Sam’s face fell was answer enough.

“Okay,” you said with a nod. “Okay, I need to go home.” You couldn’t look at her. “I need to think.”

“I can walk you home-”

“-it’s okay,” you said. She stopped moving closer when you held your hands up in front of you. “I promise I’ll call.”

The look on her face was enough to break your heart, but it was sitting backseat to the body that you couldn’t help but look at as you walked out of the bedroom. J was already dragging it to the bathroom. They stopped, smiled, and waved at you before continuing to move. Beside them, Tara gave you a look that was akin to what you would give a dog at the shelter.

You bent down and picked up the flowers from the floor, placing them gently on the table. Blood started to pool underneath the petals as you left the apartment.

—---

Sleep had evaded you since you had gotten home a few nights ago. The world had simply kept turning. You had handed out the graded essays in class; you had introduced new material. You had ordered takeout because the last thing you needed was burnt food from your own kitchen. The world kept turning, and everything kept moving forward.

And you still hadn’t called Sam.

You had turned the volume off on your phone the moment you had gotten home. If you saw the notifications from Sam, you would cave and call her back instantly. Against all your better judgements that told you to think everything through, you would have called her and gone back to her apartment to face whatever trouble came your way.

There was no promise you wouldn’t still do that. But the least you could do was think through every aspect.

And you did. You tossed over every possibility, every facet of truth, every miniscule detail that may or may not have mattered, starting with the biggest fact; Sam was Ghostface. Or she was a Ghostface. Clearly Tara and J were involved to some degree. So on one hand, Sam was the only one, on the other hand, there were three Ghostfaces.

Splendid.

That knowledge forced your hand, and you bought all the books and movies and every little news article you could find, old and new. The movies were on in the background - they were far more disgusting than you had planned, you couldn’t bring yourself to truly pay attention - while you read the books. The majority came from that news reporter, Gale Weathers. They were a little tasteless, but seemed legit nonetheless.

Your handwriting littered the books, pointing out motives, tactics, patterns, anything you could find. Most were petty, certainly not worth killing for. At least Sam had given a fair reason; you could understand that one. Not killing people because your father had cheated on his wife.

Thankfully Sam hadn’t gotten that level of pettiness from her father.

Inevitably you found the online forums that claimed Sam had been the killer after Woodsboro. All the theories were, quite frankly, baseless. From an academic point of view, they would have been tossed out within the first few words. There was no reasoning, no critical thinking, simply everyone jumping at the chance to blame someone else because it was popular.

It was no wonder Sam had thought you were stalking her on the day you met her.

When all your research was said and done, you had what amounted to the entirety of a second thesis at your disposal. Everything from past Ghostfaces, their motives, conspiracies being disproved, all the way up to the most recent sighting not too long ago. In New York City. With J, Tara, and Sam in the news.

Things had added up, and you were ready to face the solution.

Sam answered before the first ring had finished.

“Are you all at the apartment?” You asked.

“Yeah,” Sam said; you could all but hear the relief in that one simple word. “We’re here.”

“Stay there, I’m coming over,” you said quickly. You nearly hung up, but spoke again. “I’ll bring dinner.”

You didn’t wait for Sam to say anything else; you were in the proper headspace you needed for the upcoming conversation, and you couldn’t risk losing it because you missed her. Stay strong, you told yourself, say what you need to say. You weren’t going to get sidetracked, this was going to be solved, and you weren’t going to let anything get in your way.

Except for the rundown pizza place on the way to the Carpenter apartment. It was a rather delicious place, somewhere you wouldn’t have imagined visiting if it hadn’t been for Sam. You grabbed the three pizzas you knew everyone would eat, making sure to tip generously before continuing the trip to the apartment.

You also stopped for some more flowers.

And a few sweets.

And that new game you knew J had been wanting.

But then you were finishing your walk to their apartment because nothing could stop you. You were brave. You were going to talk with Sam, and you were going to talk with everyone, and you were all going to come to some form of conclusion so you could close out this thesis and move forward.

The walk up the apartment building stairs was more terrifying than it had ever been in the past. But you were brave. You took it step by step, giving yourself a pep talk with each flight. By the time you got to the apartment door, you were feeling thoroughly hyped. Nothing could stop you. Not even the… door that you… couldn’t open… because your hands were too full…

You set the bags on the floor to open the door, but then you were walking back into the apartment. A man on a mission, that’s how your dad had always described people that walked with the same attitude you were in that moment. It didn’t matter that you wouldn’t look up just yet even when you knew they were all looking at you. You closed the door, set the bags and flowers and pizzas on the table, and then you looked up.

And oh god, you had missed Sam so much.

When it was all said and done, you had actually only been away from Sam for eight days; barely over a week. No time at all where most things were concerned. But each minute that ticked by had been agonisingly slow, almost painful to the very atoms that made up your being.

“Grab your dinner,” you said with authority. And a shaky voice. “And back on the couch so we can talk.”

Tara tried to hide a laugh, and J wasn’t far from doing the same, but that was okay. They could laugh at your attempts at being brave; as long as they listened. And they did. You got out the plates and handed them to everyone so they could grab their food before they politely made their way back to the living room.

You made sure to give Sam a kiss on the cheek when she passed.

“Now,” you said as you stood in front of everyone on the couch. “We’re going to talk about what happened.”

“Hell yeah,” J said around an already full mouth, “lay down the law.”

“Thank you,” you said. They gave you an enthusiastic thumbs up. “We’ll start with last week.”

Everyone was silent, sans the occasional sound of chewing. That was good, they were going to let you talk. Perhaps they had prepared for such a situation. Surely they had seen this coming at some point, right? It wasn’t like they thought they could get away with murder forever, right?

Right?

“Sam told me the reason you-” you sighed and shook your head, “-and it’s an understandable reason.”

“Understandable?” Tara asked. “I think it was a bit more than that.”

“The Professor is talking,” J said, “don’t interrupt class.”

“Please continue,” Sam said with that small smile that always made your knees weak.

No, focus. You had a mission.

“We all know murder is wrong,” you said. “Illegal, even.” You looked each of them in the eye. J was nodding enthusiastically, Tara rolled her eyes, and Sam… wouldn’t meet your gaze. “Since we’re all in agreement, I have a few questions.”

“I didn’t study for a pop quiz,” J said.

“I’ve seen you study,” Tara said, “it wouldn’t have helped.”

“Have I told you I love when you’re mean?” J asked with a lovesick smile. It was precious.

And unnecessary.

“A few questions!” You repeated a little louder. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Sam pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Please just ask,” Sam said without removing her hand.

“Okay,” you said softly, folding your hands behind your back, “when did all of this start?”

“After the New York attacks,” Sam said.

“I’m still salty about that,” J mumbled, quickly taking another impossibly large bite of their pizza.

“They’ve healed well,” Tara said softly. In a rare gesture of kindness - at least in front of you - she lifted her hand and gently brushed her thumb over the scars on their cheeks.

You gave them a moment before clearing your throat to get their attention once again.

“Who all is involved in these…” you bit your bottom lip as you considered your wording, “activities?”

“You mean murders?” Tara clarified.

“Stop it,” Sam said with a pointed look before facing you again. “All of us.”

“I feel like we’re in detention,” J whispered.

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” Tara asked. The niceties were long gone, it seemed.

You nodded at the information, ignoring Tara’s gibes. “All of you,” you said to yourself. Your feet froze in place, stopping your pacing. “Which one of you did I see in the alley that night?” You asked, turning to face them.

“That was me!” J said proudly with their hand raised high. “Did I scare you?”

“So badly I was sick,” you said instantly.

“Hell yeah,” they mumbled with a cocky nod of their head as they leaned back on the couch. “That was a good night.”

You stood there and watched as they looked at each other with not shame, but abject exasperation. So that was their attitude about the entire thing. You should have known, it wasn’t entirely a surprise. The fact that J had waved at you before you left last week should have been enough of a warning. But it didn’t exactly sit right with you.

There should have been shame from murdering someone. Your research had told you the Ghostfaces of the past had been particularly remorseless in their actions, but the three people in front of you weren’t like them. They were troubled, but they were kind. They had accepted you - even if it took Tara a bit of time - and had allowed you to care for them.

Sam was your Sam. Nothing about her was indicative of some internal Ghostface turmoil. She was soft. Night after night, she sat with you and talked out her feelings from the week. Multiple times she had voiced her frustration at being a Loomis, stating she was better than her genetics.

Nothing was adding up.

You had walked into this meeting with a plan; measure their responses to the allegations and get them to stop. But you very well couldn’t convince them to stop if they suspiciously felt no remorse or shame, could you? There wouldn’t be near as big of an impact if they didn’t agree with your arguments in the first place. That alone left you with very few options.

You stood up straight.

Very few didn’t equate to zero.

“Would any of you be willing to stop?” You clarified.

Sam opened her mouth.

“No,” Tara cut her off. Sam didn’t argue. “We just wouldn’t tell you.”

“Very well,” you said with a nod to yourself. “Then we’re going to come up with a few rules.”

“You’re putting rules?” Tara asked. “On Ghostface?”

“No,” you said, “I’m putting rules on the three of you.”

“Oh shit,” J said while Sam tried to hide a smile, “we got ourselves a mastermind.”

You did your best to hide your visible flinch. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be such a wonderful idea. Would you be connected to all of this? What if they were found out? What if you were found out? You couldn’t hold up under pressure, what if someone interrogated you? No, no this wasn’t going well at all.

But they all sat dutifully in front of you, waiting to hear what you had to say. You couldn’t just leave, or change your mind, and it was far too late to pretend you hadn’t seen what you had. No, you were going to have to be brave. You were brave.

You were brave.

—---

It turned out you were, in fact, not brave.

In the moment, you hadn’t been able to come up with a genuine rule for any of them. The only one you had managed to get out was “please don’t do it in my apartment.” Which, to your delight, they had all readily agreed to. Aside from that, you had stumbled over your words and decided you would come up with rules later.

Tara had laughed. You couldn't even be upset about it.

At least you could see Sam again, which, in the end, made everything worth it. You had missed holding her, and feeling her hands on your neck, and her lips pressed against yours. No one said a word when you stayed the night, doing nothing but holding Sam close and reminding her how much you had missed her.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said from your couch; her books were lined neatly on the table. Something you had loved about her from the very first moment you had seen her study.

“For what, darling?” You asked as you sat down beside her. She mumbled a “thank you” as she took her plate from you.

“Ghostface,” she said softly. You quickly turned to look at her even as she averted her own eyes.

“Oh,” you said before looking back down at your plate. You didn’t quite know how to respond to that. “It’s alright.”

“It’s not,” she said quickly.

You sighed and placed your plate on the table. Not on her books, of course. Then you took her plate as gently as possible, placing it down as well before turning to face her. Not just look at her, but to properly face her. If she wished to talk, you would give her your full attention.

“You deserve more,” she said.

So that’s where it was going. Okay. Now this, you could handle this.

“Before you go on this tirade of self-abuse,” you said, reaching out to grab her hands and pull them into your lap, “may I say something?”

After a slight hesitation, Sam nodded once.

“You and I are both old enough to make our own decisions, yes?” She nodded slowly. “Then trust I am old enough to know what I do and do not deserve.” Her eyes fell to her hands in your lap. “If I felt you were not what I truly wanted, I wouldn’t have stayed.”

“You don’t need to be brought into all of this,” Sam said anyway with a shake of her head. “You’re better than some traumatised Woodsboro kids.”

“I’m not better,” you said quickly, “just different.”

“Sounds the same to me,” she said with a humourless laugh.

“Samantha Carpenter, my darling dearest,” you said. You waited until she looked back up at you before you brought her knuckles to your lips, leaving the softest of kisses upon them. “I love you dearly and no, ah,” you laughed lightly, “hobby of yours will turn me away.”

There was a light blush on her cheeks when she met your eyes. “You love me?”

Oh.

Oh dear.

“Was that the first time I’ve said so?” You asked.

“Yeah,” Sam said with a smile.

You sighed. “Far less romantic than I had planned.” Your eyes widened as you looked back up. “But no less true,” you said quickly.

She shook her head before leaning forward, and you eagerly met her halfway. Her lips were soft; they always were. The faintest taste of tobacco always lingered no matter how long it had been since her last cigarette. A constant in the ever-changing lives you both led. If you could have found a way to frame it all to keep with you forever, you would have.

“I love you too,” she mumbled against your lips.

You held still as she moved across the couch, crawling into your lap and kissing you again. Her hands rested on your neck and not for the first time, you did your best to keep your cool. It was something about the contrast between the gentleness of her kisses and the strength in her hands. You were putty under her fingers; she knew it.

It wouldn’t be polite to ravage her before she had eaten dinner. If there was one thing you knew about Sam, it was that she would forget to eat. Often. And as ready as you were for a very particular meal of your own, you couldn’t push back the concern of when she had eaten last. Truly eaten, because everyone knew neither she nor Tara had enough free time to cook for themselves very often.

“Darling,” you said softly. Her nails scratched lightly against your neck as she hummed for you to continue. “You need to eat.”

“I’d love to,” she said, her lips already starting to move across your jaw.

“Real food,” you clarified.

You felt more than heard her huff before her head fell into the crook of your neck. She didn’t like when you laughed at her, so you didn’t. Not out loud, at least. Your thumbs rubbed against her lightly exposed hips until she relaxed a little more under your touch.

“Now?” She asked.

“Now,” you repeated.

Sam sighed again, but lifted her head and looked down at you. The unhappiness was clear on her face. Quite frankly, at that moment, you didn’t care. There was plenty of time left in the evening to have your fun, and she would thank you later for making sure she had eaten something.

“Do quickies require food first?” She asked. Her eyes fell slowly along with her hands, raking her nails lightly along your skin until she reached the first button of your shirt.

“Yes they do,” you said.

She undid the second button.

“Are you sure?” She asked.

You swallowed loudly. She undid the third button, and you could feel her fingers ghosting across your skin. Perhaps she made a good point, perhaps you didn’t have to have food before a quickie. After all, that was the whole point, was it not? To do it before getting back to everything else? And when she bit her bottom lip and looked at you, you knew you were a goner.

She knew it too.

“Maybe we have a little time-”

-the door to your apartment flew open, hitting the wall with a bang. Your hands gripped Sam’s waist as you both jumped and looked toward the commotion. The door slammed shut once again before you could properly get a good look at who was in the two black robes.

“Hey guys, wanna watch a movie?” J asked breathlessly.

“Are you serious?” Sam asked; she still didn’t remove herself from your lap.

“I just wanted to freak him out,” Tara said as she held her arm. You noticed a single drop of blood on the floor. “He had creeped out Anika.”

“There was one rule, Tara,” Sam said.

“It was this or go to jail, which would you prefer?” Tara asked.

“I’d prefer if you were more careful-”

-a knock at the door caused everyone to shut up and freeze.

“NYPD,” the muffled voice said from the other side of the door.

“Fuck,” J whispered.

You couldn’t really argue with that statement. No one had moved, and the police were still right outside the door. Sam’s nails dug into your skin, leaving behind a sting that, in any other situation, would have been lovely. But this wasn’t any other situation, you were all frozen while the police knocked on the door again.

“Go to my room,” you said as you lifted Sam off your lap and stood up. “Lock the door.” Tara and J nodded before running as quickly as they could to your room. “Stay here,” you told Sam.

You gave her a quick kiss before heading over to the door. Your fingers played with the buttons on your shirt before you decided better of it. Behind you, you could hear Sam stand up. With a deep breath in and a slow exhale, you decided to be brave and opened the door.

The policeman instantly looked you up and down before looking behind you. You hoped he saw Sam in slight disarray. A second policeman was leaning against the wall outside, not even having the decency to look at you before speaking.

“Did two people in black robes come in here?” He asked in a gruff voice.

“No sir,” you said quickly, “no visitors today.”

“You sure?” The first officer asked. “We saw them run into this building.”

You needed to come up with a better lie. Something more convincing. What could be convincing enough? You couldn’t blame the neighbours, you knew nothing of them. If they saw the two coming into the building, you would have to think of something. What would work? Clearly those fancy degrees you had meant nothing.

Ah.

Maybe not entirely useless.

“I’m really sorry, I haven’t noticed anything,” you said. “I’ve been a little, ah,” you cleared your throat and looked back at Sam. She gave you a small smile, and you turned back to the police, “preoccupied tonight.”

The officer looked behind you. You didn’t dare turn away and waited patiently for him to focus on you once again. Hopefully he couldn’t hear your heart attempting to beat out of your chest. He just needed to hurry and leave.

“I’m sorry we interrupted your night,” the officer finally said. “Thank you both for your time.”

You nodded and gave them both a smile. “Stay safe, officers.”

They tipped an invisible hat at you before leaving, and you didn’t wait for them to be very far before closing and locking the door. You let out a heavy sigh and let your head fall against the door with a solid thud. That was… far too close. Was that something they had all dealt with before? Had the police come to their doors before?

You took a deep breath and stood back up. Okay, you were brave, you had been very brave. When you turned around, Sam was still looking at you, but there was a different look in her eyes. You didn’t know what it was; at that moment, you were still too wound up to care.

“Come on out,” you said once you had walked over to Sam and wrapped your arms around her waist.

“They’re gone?” Tara asked while J opened the door.

“Yes,” you said with a nod, “they’re gone.”

“I thought we were fucked,” J said.

“I wish I was,” Sam mumbled softly enough for only you to hear.

You ignored the heat in your face. “Not tonight,” you said.

“Thank you,” Tara said in an uncharacteristic show of gratitude. “We didn’t know where else to go.”

“You can always come here,” you said. Tara nodded and made as if she was going to leave the apartment with J. “Don’t even think about it.”

Sam sighed.

“We need to go get cleaned up,” Tara said.

“You can clean up here,” you said forcefully. Or you hoped that’s how it came out. “Then we’re laying down some ground rules.”

Tara kept eye contact with you. You would have caved at any other point in time; there was nothing more terrifying than a Carpenter. It wasn’t questionable, there was no room for argument, it was a matter of fact. But you had just lied to the police for the first time in your life. Ever! If this was going to be a common occurence, then you were going to stand your ground.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Tara mumbled, but grabbed J’s hand and dragged them to the guest bathroom anyway.

“Thank you,” Sam said softly once she heard the shower turn on.

“Of course,” you said, placing a lingering kiss behind her ear. An idea sparked in your mind. “How long do you think it’ll take them?”

“Tara showers slow,” she said as she turned around in your arms to face you. “And if they’re both in there, it’ll be a while.”

You hummed and pressed a kiss to her lips. “I did tell the police we were preoccupied,” you said as you started manoeuvring her to the couch.

“Yes you did,” she said with a slowly growing smile.

“I’d hate to lie to them,” you continued, followed by another kiss.

Sam let herself fall onto the couch, pulling you down with her. She wasted no time in getting to work on the remaining buttons of your shirt. Her lips felt heavenly. You knew she still needed to eat, but something more important had come up.

Besides, you were happier to eat out anyway.

#samantha carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x reader #samantha carpenter imagine #sam carpenter imagine

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lethalchiralium · 8 months

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10 Kisses He Gave You | Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x Reader

a/n: hi this was the SWEETEST thing i’ve ever read (i hate graves) but the prompt is so cute. here’s the inspo: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8Fr8EQN/ . credits to them for the idea!

warnings: slight nsfw!

summary: 10 kisses gaz gave you as he fell in love with you.

1. A kiss on your fingertip

One of the earlier dates, you had given yourself a paper cut on a menu. You winced a little, Gaz instantly took your hand in his own; no blood left the wound, just a little cut, and he moved it to his lips.

“Now you’ll be just fine.”

2. A kiss to your wrist

He complimented your bracelet, which made you laugh. It was the little bracelet he had purchased for you that night, he brought your intertwined hands up and placed his lips against your pulse with a gentle smile.

3. A kiss to your temple

His arms around you, your body perfectly snuggled on top of his. The couch was too small for the both of you, but he didn’t care. He’d stay awake all night to keep you laying on top of him, warm and content. He pulled the blanket up closer to your neck, pressing a kiss to your temple as he listened to your breathing; convincing himself that you were real, that you were with him.

That he was truly smitten.

4. A kiss to your forehead

He was finally back. Shoes against the cobblestones in London, running up to your door and knocking so fast. You opened it, his arms were instantly around you - lips placing a chaste kiss to your forehead as you whispered, “You’re home.”

Gaz looked around the small house.

“I am home.”

5. A kiss to your hair

Even in his sleepy daze, even when you were mad at him, you were still curled into his chest. The venom both of you spat earlier could only reach so far in the superficial wounds, Gaz worked through what you said in his head. You wanted him around more, you hated that he didn’t trust you - which was a lie, he trusted you more than he dared to admit - and you hated that it seemed like every time he came close, he took seven steps back like a terrified animal.

He cried that night. Upset with himself for not thinking about what could hurt you, what will eventually hurt you. Why leaving without telling you was and is the worst decision he could make.

He kissed the top of your head, promising to tell you when he would leave. Promising to tell you his real feelings in the morning. A prayer that you would accept him.

6. A kiss to your lips

It was no surprise in your tearful rant that you blurted out that you loved him. You loved Kyle Garrick. You loved him so much that you couldn’t breathe, you loved him so much that the sunshine never seemed to be warm without him there with you, you loved him so much that your life was colorless without him.

He couldn’t describe how fast his heart was beating as he grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you towards him and crashing his lips against your own. He couldn’t explain how colorful the fireworks in his body were, all because of you.

7. A kiss to your sternum

A quiet night where you gently massaged his neck and shoulders as he laid on top of you, his head placed right on your chest where he could clearly hear your heart. He kissed your sternum before resting, allowing you to gently massage his scalp. He whispered something only the lights in your living room could hear.

“I love you.”

8. A kiss to your thigh

He’s a panting mess. Sweat dribbling down his chest, eyes only on your sweet face as he was kneeled in between your legs. Your hands gripped at the sheets, your feet resting on his bare back as you tried to gain composure.

He kissed your thigh before he spoke in a sultry tone,

“Don’t be shy now, love.”

9. A kiss to your stomach

He was hot, sweaty, and miserable with a cold. Yet, you were kind enough to allow him to lay on you, your hands gently rubbing his shoulders as he mumbled out a groan of pain. His arms wrapped around your waist, eyes closed as your simple existence made him feel a more comfortable. He didn’t even realize he kissed your stomach, you just laughed and said, “Sweet boy.”

10. A kiss to your cheek

With a heavy heart, he watched your crystal tears drop down your face. Your hands held his, your lips begging for him to stay safe. He could hear your heart begging for him to stay, as if you knew he would get hurt.

He kissed your cheek, whispering words that knew meant nothing to you. “I’ll be alright.”

It was like you could predict the future.

Even as he’s hauled away in a medevac, all he could think about was spending the rest of his life with you. That and maybe changing where he hid the ring.

#lethalchiralium #lethal chiralium #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x female reader #kyle gaz garrick x neutral reader #kyle gaz garrick x male reader #kyle garrick #gaz garrick #kyle garrick x reader

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thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 3 months

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Gentleman caller

Sanji x reader. NSFW!!

This fic was inspired by Usopp visiting Kaya at her mansion at night. One Piece of course is not that sort of story, but... what if things were allowed to get a little more spicy?

TAGGING @holymusicalmothman @b7717 @mcereal @aamon47 Thanks for asking!!

*****

"Are you sure you don't want a glass of warm milk before you go to bed, miss?"

"I am sure, Kyla." you answer politely. The truth is you haven't drunk a glass of milk to help you fall asleep since you were ten (that is, almost half your life) but your governess keeps asking, every single night, and every single night you answer no; still, you know she does it out of worry and affection for you, which you sincerely appreciate "I think I'll go now; will you tell my father good-night for me, when he returns?"

Kyla promises she will, and returns to the kitchen to clean up after dinner, while you walk out of the villa's large dining room, cross a long corridor and climb the stairs to the upper floor, finally reaching your bedroom.

Except for Kyla in the kitchen you are alone, since the cook and the gardener, who do not reside in the villa, already left, and your father is as usual busy with a business dinner. You don't feel lonely exactly, since that state of affairs has been going on since your mother died when you were still too young to remember her, but it does feel a little weird to live in such a large place, no less than twelve bedrooms on the first floor alone and at least six other rooms that have been closed for years since you literally don't know how to occupy them, when it's only the two of you... a waste of space, even though you and your father often host parties and receive many guests.

And the most important of those visitors by far is going to arrive soon, a person your father has no idea has already visited so many times before...

You take off your shoes, and spend a few minutes in the en-suite bathroom refreshing yourself before closing the bedroom's door behind you. You sigh, happy and excited, as you let yourself fall on the bed, observing the room you have slept in since you were maybe six and that you will soon leave: the desk cluttered with paper models, scarps of fabric and sewing tools; the two mannequins wearing your latest creations, a green cocktail dress and a simpler but elegant light blue men's shirt; the bookstore full of sewing manuals, fashion catalogs and the biographies of your favourite designers; the large poster on a wall, depicting a famous, elegantly dressed model... and the glass door that, only a few minutes after you have retired to your room, starts being hit by tiny pebbles, picked from the garden below.

Your guest is here. You happily stand from the bed, glance quickly to the full length mirror on the wall to make sure your hair is combed and in order, and reach the glass door to quickly step onto the balcony.

Standing in the garden under you like a suitor ready to serenade you, more handsome than a fairy-tale hero and beaming as if about to see all his dreams come true, is him. The former assistant cook of your family, your best friend in the world, your...

"Sanji!" you call out to him, voice barely rising above a whisper as you wave your hand at him, a greeting he returns in kind, clearly happy to see you, hidden among the trunks of the centuries-old trees; the night is particularly dark, heavy clouds covering the crescent moon and most of the stars, but his smile is brighter than any other source of light.

"Are you alone?" Sanji asks urgently as he glances all around him; no one has reason to visit the garden at this hour and the balcony is oriented towards the back of the villa, far from the main entrance through which your father would come in, but you both know how imperative it is to keep your rendez-vous secrets.

"I am; my dad hasn't returned yet and Kyla is in the kitchen. You can come up."

When you decided you would meet in secret at night, five years ago, you had offered to find a rope for him to climb, but Sanji never needed it. Tonight, as usual, you look on as he nimbly climbs the tree closest to the villa's wall, clinging to the huge trunk and then to the largest branches until he's jumping above the balcony and directly in your arms.

You embrace each other, your profiles standing out against the light filtering from the room, and for a full minute neither feels the need to talk. Sanji's arms hold you close by the waist, his lips pressed against your temple in a chaste kiss; you lose yourself in his scent, the costly perfume you bought for him because you knew he liked but couldn't afford it and and that never fails to make you shiver, as you enjoy the sensation of his slim but strong body pressed against yours.

"Do you have it?" you ask after a while, pulling away just enough to look at him in the eyes; you thought about nothing else for days, more nervous than if it had been your own future career at stake "The answer from the school. Did you receive it?"

"I have."

"... and?!"

Sanji, as usual neatly dressed in one of the dark suits he wears at work, smiles at you, his fingers brushing against your face; a small backpack hangs from his shoulder. "Can we go inside before we talk?" he proposes "I have something for you as well."

Knowing he brought you a treat from the restaurant he works at makes you happy, but nothing beats the simple, pure pleasure of his company. Wordlessly you take his hand to lead him inside, leaving the now empty balcony behind.

*****

Your friendship with Sanji began exactly one decade ago; you were the only daughter of a powerful politician, living alone with him at the villa and whose pathological shyness had left her virtually friendless, him a newly orphaned boy your father had decided to hire as assistant to the cook, so that he could support himself. One afternoon, you visited the kitchen to ask for a snack, since you were starving and dinner was still hours away; the cook told you that he was sorry but your father, already then worried for your weight, had strictly forbidden him from feeding you between meals. You noticed Sanji, busy scrubbing a large pot in the sink, but he seemed so focused on his job you decided not to disturb him to introduce yourself.

You left, disappointed but unwilling to insist, out of respect for both your father and the cook who was just following orders, but a few minutes later, as you studied in the library, he joined you, a nervous smile on his face and a salami sandwich in his hands.

"Please don't tell anyone, especially not your dad." he told you as he put it in your hands "I hope you liked it, I put some mayonnaise on it because I saw the cook used it to prepare your school lunch yesterday."

You did (and still do) like mayonnaise on your sandwiches, and in that moment you were doubly astonished: that he heard your request for a snack even though he had looked so engrossed in the cookware to wash, and that he had decided to risk your father's wrath to help you, less than a week after being hired.

"Thank you, I... thank you so much! That was very kind of you." you told him, for once forgetting your shyness "My name is (name). What's yours?"

"I'm Sanji. And don't worry; I'm sure your dad means well, but no one should starve, especially not at our age. Don't tell anyone, ok? I know he forbade the cook from feeding you snacks, and i'm not supposed to visit the family's wing of the villa without a valid reason."

You obviously kept his secret, and from that day on, you and Sanji quickly became inseparable, spending together all your free time from school and work; he secretly fed you every time your father's concern about your weight made the cook limit your meals, and you used your allowance to buy him cooking books he studied to pursue his dream of becoming a famous chef. Apart from your father, you had never loved anyone like him; Sanji was the other half of your soul, an acerbic but steadfast feeling that made you sure you would never feel alone, as long as he were by your side, and you would not have left him for all the treasures, and the good food, in the world.

Your father, who was happy you had finally made a friend and didn't mind you had chosen the kitchen boy and not one of your school mates, who belonged to the city's most affluent and prominent families, never had anything against it... at least until you were both fourteen, when he suddenly decided it was inappropriate for the two of you to spend so much time together; as a sign of peace, he found Sanji a more prestigious job in a famous restaurant at the other side of the city. That, in your father's opinion, would have meant the end of your friendship, but it obviously didn't: and after all, with all the sandwiches and portions of dessert he had snuck you, hadn't your friendship been based on secrecy since the very beginning?

For five years Sanji has spent with you almost every evening he is free from the restaurant; he climbs the trees next to your balcony and you let him in, and sometimes you spend the whole night talking, or leave together to visit a bar or go dancing. Is it dangerous, should your father discover what you are up to? Undoubtedly so, especially since you know he only worries about you, whether it is about the food you eat or the places you visit in a large and dangerous city; but you are an adult, more than old enough to decide how to live your life, and Sanji is always ready to protect you when someone bothers you in a club, and he would never feed you something that could seriously endanger your health. You don't know why exactly your father has suddenly decided you mustn't be friends with him anymore, but you are determined not to lose him, especially now that your relationship has started evolving beyond mere friendship... and your own dreams risk separating you forever.

*****

"So? What did the school say?" you insist as Sanji closes the glass door behind the two of you; your heart is pounding, wishing with every fiber of your being you could change the decision the commission must have taken days ago "Did you get in?"

For years Sanji has dreamed of attending the most prestigious cooking school in the country, the Baratie Culinary Arts Academy in the capital; this year he has finally reached the required age to enroll, but the entrance examination, that your friend has taken two weeks ago, is notoriously difficult, especially for who, like Sanji, also has to apply for a scholarship. Your friend was meant to receive the results of his exam today, and you had decided you would also share your own secret with him... and then, hopefully, you would both have something to celebrate.

"I'll tell you in a minute."

"Sanji, please... I haven't thought about anything else all day!" you complain, fearing your friend's reticence is due to shame for his failure; Sanji, busy emptying his backpack on your desk, smiles, before rubbing the back of his head.

"The truth is... I haven't opened the letter yet." he admits "I hoped we could do it together... mainly because I don't have the courage to do it by myself."

There is nothing wrong with wanting a friend close when one is both scared and excited for something, but in that moment your heart breaks for Sanji: he has lost his parents, had to take care of himself since he was still a child, and while he has a good job and could try again next year, being refused admission to the Baratie would break his heart.

You wait patiently as Sanji quickly sets the table for the two of you: cutlery, napkins, glasses, a bottle of water and his latest effort in the kitchen: two portions of a delicious chocolate cake, bigger than what your father would allow you to eat but still relatively small, since your friend does care about your health.

"This looks delicious, Sanji!" you exclaim, as always happy to taste your friend's latest creations "But wait..."

You walk to the small fridge next to the door, almost hidden under a pile of scraps of fabric left over from your latest creation and that you will find a use for one day, and retrieve a small but expensive bottle of champagne that you have bought in the afternoon.

"I thought we could use it to celebrate; I have also taken two flutes from the kitchen." you explain.

"I still don't know if I got in, (name)."

"I'm sure you did. And if the chefs at the Baratie can't see, and taste, how extraordinarily talented you are, it's their loss." you point out "You wanna open it?"

A minute later you are sitting face to face at your desk, cake and champagne ready to be enjoyed, the white envelope Sanji took from his backpack in your hands.

"Shall I?" you ask softly; your friend, who has never looked so pale and so young, nods.

"Please."

You both hold your breath as you open the envelope and then unfold the single sheet of paper inside. You make sure Sanji cannot see your face as you read...

"So? What... what does it say?"

"Sanji, I'm so sorry..."

"Oh, God..." your friend, heartbroken, stares at you for a moment before slumping on his chair, face hidden in his hands "I can't believe it... I was so sure..."

"I'm sorry because you have some very difficult years ahead..."

"... what?"

"Of course. Nights spent studying, sharing a room with six other people, waking up extra-early to go to class... Really, I don't envy you..."

Finally you look at him, beaming, while Sanji's eyes grow bigger as he slowly catches the meaning of your words.

"You mean...?"

"You got in! And you got the scholarship as well. Oh, Sanji, I'm so proud of you! I knew you could do it!"

You stand and embrace, laughing with shared delight. "I can't believe it." Sanji murmurs, still as he looks at the admission letter, signed by Zeff, a famous chef who is the Baratie's headmaster "There were so many people at the exam, and at one point I was so nervous I spilled a bowl of vinaigrette on my apron..."

"As I said, an important school like the Baratie, with so many experienced chefs, couldn't not recognize your talent." you point out, happier than you remember ever being "Classes start in a month, you'll have to give your notice at the restaurant."

"Yeah..."

Sanji takes your hands in his, kissing them devotedly. "I could have never done it without you." he murmurs, with the sort of gaze and inflection that, years after your first kiss, still makes you shiver "All the books you have bought me... and it was you who convinced me to apply. I owe you so much, (name)."

"You would have done the same for me; and we both know the two of us are beyond this sort of talk. I am so happy for you, truly; I know you will become a great chef."

Sanji smiles, circling your waist with his arm as he uses his free hand to pick one of the flutes from the desk. "Shall we celebrate, then?"

"Actually..."

"Actually?"

"Actually, I also have something to tell you." you admit, a new, excited smile opening on your face "You know that important fashion school in the capital, the one many of my favourite designers attended?"

Fashion has always been your greatest passion; you have designed clothes since you were a child, and thanks to a family friend who owns a large tailor shop you have learnt the basics of the trade, how to cut fabric, sew and tailor an item of clothing. Your father, who approves of your interests, has offered to introduce you to some fashion designers his friends or associates are acquainted to, but you are determined to accept no recommendations and take no shortcuts; just like Sanji, and any person who has to work hard to realize their dreams, you will pursue your education, earn an apprenticeship at a fashion house, and in time, hopefully, open your own and make a name for yourself as a designer. It will take you years and fashion is a famously difficult field to break into, but you are determined to give your all, so that whatever the future may bring you will be free from regret, and live doing what you love.

"Of course; the Nefertari Vivi Fashion Institute." Sanji promptly answers; miss Vivi is one of your idols, a ground-breaking designer who has revolutionized the fashion world and then focused on teaching, establishing one of the best-reputed educational institutions of the field "So what?"

You smile, still excited almost a week after receiving your own letter, that you asked your father to open for you.

Sanji gapes. "You are kidding."

"I am not!"

Your friend laughs. "And you didn't tell me anything!" he exclaims, and you apologize, telling him you didn't want to disappoint both of them in the not unlikely event you were not admitted.

"But you were?"

You still can't believe it yourself. "I was! There was no exam; I only had to send miss Vivi some of my creations, and a few days ago I received the acceptance letter."

"(name), that's amazing!"

"I know! I can't wait to begin. I also apply for a scholarship, but unfortunately I didn't get it."

Sanji asks whether you plan on asking your father to pay for your classes, but you shake your head: you need to learn to take care of yourself, living alone once you'll move to the capital and earning money to support yourself. To this end, you have contacted a friend who lives in the capital and owns a bookstore: she has accepted to hire you, and you have sold your jewels to pay your tuition fees.

"(name), you didn't!" Sanji exclaims, flabbergasted "Those were your mom's things..."

"I know." you sigh, still feeling saddened and a bit guilty even though you know you did the right thing "But this is my future we are talking about, the opportunity to build a career, and a life for myself, without my father taking care of me or using my family's money to buy whatever I need or want. I want to earn my keep, Sanji; I want to prove I can take care of myself, and that I am more than a spoiled little girl."

Sanji softly points out that no one who knows you could ever think that; he smiles, his handsome face expressing a joy too great and deep for words, as he takes you in his arms once more. "So we are both moving to the capital to study." he mentions "And pursue our dreams. Which means we'll both be very busy..."

"... but we won't have to hide our relationship anymore." you happily finish for him, having already reflected on the matter; you plan on living in a student residence, since their rooms are cheaper than other types of accommodation, and guests are usually not admitted, but at least you will be able to meet in the open, having dates like any other couple instead of having to hide like a married man with his mistress, lest your father learns about your relationship "I can't wait! In a month we'll both be living in the capital, studying with the best in our fields, and nothing will stop us from being together. I... I don't think I've ever been so happy!"

"Me neither." Sanji agrees, one of the flutes in his hand once more "Shall we drink to our future? And then enjoy the cake?"

You agree, but you barely have had the time to clink your glasses together when a sudden noise reaches your ears: an unexpected, but otherwise innocuous noise, at least for who, unlike the two of you, has nothing to hide...

A soft but firm knocking on the door.

Sanji looks at you, suddenly tense; you turn your eyes to the door, wishing to be able to see beyond it. "Yes?"

"(name), it's dad. May I come in?"

The flute almost slips from Sanji's fingers; terrified as if a whole army were standing at the other side of the door, ready to barge in and tear both to pieces, you both nonetheless act quickly, having prepared for such an occurrence since your first nocturnal meeting. Your friend quickly retrieves the flutes and the champagne bottle, while you do the same with the cake plates and the other things placed on your desk; a moment later, Sanji has slipped under your bed, a dusty and uncomfortable hiding spot where nonetheless he'll be safe from your father.

I hope.

"(name)? Is everything all right?"

"Just a moment, dad! I'm coming!" you answer, hoping you sound less nervous, almost terrified, than you feel; you quickly glance all around you, making sure no trace of Sanji's presence is visible, and finally go open the door.

"Hello, dad. How was dinner?" you ask, approaching to kiss him on the cheek; even though he interrupted you and Sanji, you're happy he came to say good-night to you before retiring to his own bedroom.

"Pretty good, even though the lemon cake was not up the restaurant's usual standard. Are you ok?"

"Yes, of course; I was... preparing to go to bed." you answer vaguely, before something in your peripheral vision makes you tense; it is Sanji's backpack, placed where your friend had left it less than half an hour ago: on the bed, perfectly visible.

Shit. SHIT. Shitshitshitshit...

You move a step to the right, so as to prevent your father from noticing the backpack; it is not as compromising as if he had found Sanji's tie, or his shoes, but he could notice the backpack is a men's model, and inside he could find your friend's personal documents, five years after he had forbidden you from having further contact with him. Don't look at it. Don't see it. Please please please...!

Thank God your father, a clever and perceptive man, seems unconcerned with out-of-place objects in your room. "I was thinking tomorrow we could go buy a new suitcase for you; you need a large one, since you'll have to bring most of your things when you'll move to the capital. I hope you'll allow me to pay for that at least."

You smile, grateful for the offer and even more for the intention. "Of course, dad. Thank you."

He smiles, taking your hands in his. "I am so proud of you." he murmurs "I have always known you had a great talent for fashion, but being admitted to such a prestigious school... You'll become the greatest designer of your generation, I'm sure."

"Dad..."

"Please, let me be happy for you. You know I'm always there if you need something, right? I know you have found a job, and you are smart and mature enough to take care of yourself, but if you ever need money, or you want to come home, you can do it; no judgement. Oh, I wish your mom could see you..."

You bite your lip, suddenly unable to talk; a lump of emotion blocks your throat. You are happy, and grateful, that your father supports your desire to move to the capital and attend the Nefertari Institute, especially since he's so protective and you know he wished you would one day follow his footsteps and go into politics, and while you can't wait to start your classes and enjoy life in a big city, the thought of leaving him, and the house where you were born, fills you with sadness... and guilt.

"I... I will never thank you enough for everything you have done for me." you murmur, stepping closer to him to hug your father "And I'm sorry if... if I ever made it hard for you, especially after mom died. I love you very much, dad. I'll be back often to visit, I promise; and I'll miss you so much."

"I'll miss you too, my darling girl." your father answers; he's moved as well, but better than you at hiding it "But I'm so proud you're beginning your life in the world. And I hope you'll let me visit you as well."

"Of course! Every time you can."

"Good. Now, we should both go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

He kisses you on the forehead, and soon after he's closing the room's door behind him. You are still staring at it when, a minute later, Sanji joins you, resting his hands on your shoulders.

"Are you all right?" he asks softly; he has known you long enough to perceive what you are feeling, the love for your father and the guilt for the relationship you are carrying out behind his back, the efforts you are making to build a life for yourself away from his protective but constrictive influence and the way you'll miss him terribly and feel guilty for leaving as soon as you could.

"Yeah, just... I was just thinking."

You sigh, turning to face Sanji, desperately trying to return to the carefree joy of five minutes ago, and drive away the melancholia filling your heart. After all, it is normal for children to find their way in life away from their family, and your father is still young, dedicated to his job and career, and has many friends and a new partner he is very close to; he'll be all right, and whatever loneliness and melancholy he will feel, you know he will accept it.

"Your father is a good man." Sanji points out as you both retrieve your drinks and plates from the wardrobe you had hidden them in "He didn't even know me, but he gave me a job when I was alone in the world, and then he found me an even more prestigious one at the restaurant; every berry I ever earned I owe it to him. I'll never forget all the help he gave me."

You smile, happy to hear your friend talk well about your father. "You still have a good opinion of him even if he forbade us from being friends?"

"Well, I shouldn't resent him for that, since we never stopped seeing each other. And he only wanted to protect you, which I can understand."

You blink. "... sorry? What are you talking about?"

"Right, I... I never told you, did I?"

Sanji rubs the back of his neck, suddenly bashful. "You never wondered why your dad was suddenly against us being friends?"

You had. "Well... I thought it was because we weren't children anymore... and you a boy and I a girl..."

"Exactly, but... there was something else. When I was fourteen, I... I wrote you a letter; there was something important I needed to tell you, but I couldn't find the courage to do it in person. I left it on your pillow one day while you were in school, but your father found it... and read it."

You wait for Sanji to elaborate, but he seems focused on staring at the floor, avoiding your gaze. "It was... something inappropriate for a father to read...?"

"Nothing vulgar, if that is what you are wondering; but... it did say I wanted us to be more than friends, and this is what your father opposed, not that I was an orphan without money and prospectives, but because he thought you were too young for that sort of relationship. So... so he asked me to leave things between us as they were, and when I refused, he decided it was better to separate us, and he found me a job at the other side of town, forbidding me from contacting you again, at least until you were of age."

He looks at you, tense since he has no idea how you could react, but the truth is you don't know either. "He sent you away because he didn't want us to date?" you recapitulate in the end, flabbergasted "What would have been so wrong about that? Lots of girls get a boyfriend at fourteen, and he knew you, he knew you would treat me well..."

"Well, he's always been protective of you. Sorry, maybe I should have told you before..."

"It's ok." you reassure him, even though you are not completely sure of it yourself; you understand your father's reasons, and appreciate he didn't simply kick Sanji out in the street, but at the same time you can't believe all of it was to stop your best friend, a boy he knew posed no danger, from confessing his feelings "I... I'm so sorry, Sanji..."

"Well, it wasn't so bad; and as I said, I really don't have a reason to complain, since we did end up becoming more than friends. I felt guilty lying to your dad... but I couldn't give up on you."

He smiles, as he picks one of the flutes up from your desk again. "Now, can we please have a toast to our future?"

You do, happily enjoying your late-night snack; you delicately clink your glasses together before taking a sip, and then feed each other cake, your knees touching under the desk.

Silence has fallen on the room, and on the two of you, as usual when you are with Sanji a comfortable, peaceful silence that you don't feel the need to fill with small talk; you smile at each other, both happy and excited at the future opening in front of you... a future that you will face together as you have always done, finding strength and support in each other.

"Does chef Zeff teaches any class at the Baratie?" you ask after a while; you know the extent of Sanji's admiration for the principal of the cooking school, and it would be amazing for him to learn personally from his idol.

"Not for first-year students; but I heard that he sometimes gives one-on-one classes, if he finds a particularly talented pupil."

"... which means he'll leave all his other classes to tutor you exclusively, as soon as he tastes your True Bluefin sauté... or your salami sandwich."

Sanji smiles; he knows how much faith you have in his cooking abilities, and he never stops being grateful for it. "You're exagerrating."

"I'm not." you very seriously protest, as you clean your dish from any crumble of cake; you know watching your diet means taking care of your health, but you would happily eat three more! "A month and he'll let you skip a year or two, I promise."

"Well, if you are so sure..."

A few minutes later Sanji is putting the dirty plates and cutlery away in his backpack, while you observe the sky out of the glass door, leaning with one shoulder against the wall.

"Once we both live in the capital we won't have to hide anymore, but we'll be so busy with school..." you consider "I'm afraid we won't have a lot of time to spend together."

"Still, it will be an improvement from what we have now. And all the city's school dormitories are in the same campus, which means we can visit each other every time we want."

You nod, still pensive, and a moment later Sanji's arms are circling your waist, his chest pressed against your back.

"It's going to be all right." he murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear in a way that makes you shiver in such a pleasant way "We are going to be all right, I promise, no matter how busy we are."

"Oh, I know; believe me, I'm not doubting my feelings, or yours. We have waited for so long to be able to live our relationship in the open, and I can't wait to be able to see you every day, even for five minutes between classes or to cram together at night. It's just..."

You turn in his embrace, almost apologetic as you smile at him. "I feel so happy, as if all my dreams were coming true: attending a great school, not having to hide what we share. It is almost too good to be true; and I'm almost afraid to wake up and find out it really was just a dream."

Sanji is too kind to make fun of your fears; he considers them as he holds you close, equally aware that no matter how steadfast your feelings for each other are and even though both of you have rightfully earned admission in the schools of your dreams, you are both beginning a new chapter in life, and neither knows what future may have in store for you.

Still, it is pointless to worry about tomorrow, and Sanji decides that more than reassure you, he wants to make you forget your fears, even if just for a minute. "You know what I'm thinking about?" he asks after a minute, his tone pensive "That I've been here for at least thirty minutes, and I haven't kissed, or been kissed by, you, even once."

"Ah, that won't do."

"It really won't. So..."

He grins, happy to see you smile as well, and when he lifts your chin with his fingers you obediently close your eyes and offer him your mouth to kiss.

Almost three years have passed since your first time, in this very room, and kissing Sanji still makes your heart tremble; he is sweet but passionate, not aggressive but intense enough to leave no doubt about his feelings, and his intentions. You enjoy the feeling of his mouth on yours for a moment before kissing him back, Sanji's lips hot against yours; you feel him smile, his hands now holding you by the waist while yours gently caress his hair and neck.

"Gods, you taste so good..."

"It's the cake, Sanji."

"No, it's not. You are delicious, (name); absolutely... mesmerizing..."

You keep kissing for a while, as your hands start moving on each other's body; Sanji whispers your name, suddenly breathless, as your mouth descends towards his neck, at first gently pecking at the delicate skin of his throat, and then sucking hard enough to make him moan.

"(name)..." he murmurs again, and you smile, circling his hips with your arms; you nuzzle at his chest, the soft fabric of his shirt so familiar and comforting against your skin, and wish you could stay like this forever.

You feel Sanji's hands move on your hips and back, his fingers brushing against the hem of your skirt.

"I like this one." he murmurs in your ear; he is aware of the effect he has on you and exploits it mercilessly "Is it new?"

"Made it myself." you answer proudly; you had seen the skirt on a fashion magazine, and rather than buying it you had decided to see whether you could recreate it "Does it look good on me?"

"You look absolutely ravishing, my darling..."

And ravish is exactly what Sanji seems intent on doing; a minute later your back is pressed against the wall, with a very handsome, very amorous young chef intent on making you forget your very name.

Sanji's back and shoulder muscles are taut under your hands as they run all over his body, like a beautiful clay statue molded by your touch; you can feel his heart pounding against your chest, the tenseness in his body as he tries to restrain himself in order not to unsettle you, not to take more than what you would be ready to offer. Dear Sanji, you think fondly as you arch your back to press your chest against his and finally, finally feel his hands grab at your buttocks, don't you know at this point you don't even have to ask?

Sanji's jacket is the first item of clothing to go, falling on the closest chair after you helped him take it off; he returns the courtesy freeing you from the heavy sweater you wear, leaving you with a tight camisole, the different colour of your bra visible under it. He smiles, clearly appreciating the view, but a moment later his expression turns serious, almost reverent, as he gazes at you, almost as if he couldn't believe he's really holding you in his arms.

"I love you so much, you know that?" he murmurs, and no matter how many times he has already uttered those words, you know how deeply he means them, how utterly and hopelessly devoted he is to you and to what you hope to build together. To be the object of such an intense ardor is... humbling, since you're not quite sure you deserve it, and you could even feel guilty for it, if your feelings for Sanji were not equally deep and strong. You don't remember a day in which you didn't love him, ever since he risked your father's ire (and, consequently, the job he had just gotten) to feed you, there has always been a special place for him in your heart, a place no one else could ever occupy; Sanji is the other half of you, someone who you don't need in order to live but who you want to share your life with. Without him you could go on; but you know you'll never feel complete ever again.

And to express everything you feel -all the love, the joy that fills your heart when he's by your side and the hopes you cherish for your future together- you are unable to say more than...

"I love you too, Sanji."

... and that is more than a little frustrating.

You know what you share goes beyond physical attraction, but you can't deny it is flattering, and exciting, to know you can have that sort of effect on Sanji, a man attractive and charming enough he would have no troubles attracting a date; you sometimes think about the girls he meets at work, or the clients he could easily flirt with when he has to cover for a waiter at the restaurant, but you know he is being sincere when he swears you're the only one he cares about, and that he has never betrayed your trust. On the other hand, you are not good with words and Sanji doesn't care for expensive gifts, which makes you fear, sometimes, you could do more to prove how much you care for him, and how committed you are to your relationship; the truth is, you love him so much, a feeling deeper and more encompassing than anything you thought you would be able to feel, that you lack the words to express it, and any declaration, no matter how grandiose or romantic, would fall short of your actual feelings.

Then, you suddenly realize, maybe you shouldn't tell him; after all, like your father always says, actions do speak louder than words...

Sanji's stares, eyes wide open, as he sees you take off your camisole. A moment later, he hurries to unbutton your shirt, and you move to help him, and somehow, maybe because you're in a hurry or because your hands are shaking, you tear off a button.

"Oh, Gods..." you stutter, embarrassment filling you "I'm so sorry, I... I'll sew it back on, I promise..."

Sanji shakes his head, as if to say you needn't worry; he is a sight to behold, short of breath, his usually pale complexion turned pink with excitement - with lust. He looks at you, he looks at your hands still holding the two panels of his shirt, and orders:

"Tear it off."

"... what?"

"Rip it off me. (name), please, I want you to undress me."

"Are... are you sure?" you ask again; the idea is more than a little exciting, but the experienced seamstress and future fashion designer in you hesitates at the thought of ruining a perfectly serviceable item of clothing.

Sanji grins, desire and affection filling his brown eyes. "Yeah, sure; it's an old one. Please, darling..."

"As you wish..."

A sound of tearing and ripping fills the room, and a moment later Sanji's shirt, now missing every single of its buttons and irreparably damaged, lies on the floor, while he's naked from the waist up - and Gods, just looking at him is enough to make you forget any hesitancy you may have... including the ones regarding the presence of your father, in his bedroom at the other hand of the corridor.

He smiles, more than aware of the effect he's having on you, as he shamelessly stares back at your body. "Come here, my beauty." he invites you, and a moment later he has taken you in his arms once again, your hands moving on each other's newly exposed skin.

"Let's move to the bed." you propose in a whisper between kisses, and laugh softly as Sanji hurriedly picks you up, bridal style, to carry you and delicately lay you down on the light blue sheets of your bed. A minute to take off your shoes, and he has joined you; you are kissing again as he makes quick work of your bra's clasp, but Sanji stops to admire you, lying under him, and for a moment he seems unable to speak.

"You are so beautiful." he murmurs; he looks you in the eyes, to gauge your reaction and make sure he's not overstepping, before letting his hand brush against and then close around your breast "My (name)... I've waited for this moment since I was maybe twelve, you know?"

"You could have told me before."

"A gentleman never asks, he waits for the lady to offer."

You smile, shamelessly enjoying the sensuality of his touch, the delicious sensation of Sanji's warm hands caressing and stimulating and gently squeezing the warm flesh of your chest; he sees you jolt when the pad of his thumb finds your nipple, and smiles, and you smile with him.

"Well, this lady is offering." you point out a moment later; you want there to be no doubt or ambiguity about what you want "I want you, Sanji. Will you make love to me?"

Unexpectedly, and while you can see the desire in his eyes as he looks at you, he hesitates. "You know we don't have to do it." he softly points out "You don't... owe me anything; I don't want you to think this is something we need to do in order to make our relationship last, or since we have been together for a while..."

"I know. I... I just want to live this with you; I want you to be my first, as well the last. I want you, and I'm tired of hiding it."

"(name), I..."

"Sanji, please."

That last word, as well as the tone you utter it in, being begged to take you in his arms and make you scream, would make even the most dispassionate man forget himself, and Sanji is far from that. In a whisper, he asks you to lift your hips, and takes both your skirt and panties off; he licks his lips as he looks at you, as if anticipating what he is going to do to you, and delicately lifts your foot in his hands. His first kiss is placed on your ankle, and then the second at the bottom at your calf, and the third a bit above it, and then on your knee and on your thigh until Sanji is lying on the bed between your open legs, and the sensation of his tongue and hips doing magic on the most hidden part of you is so delicious, so lurid and at the same time heavenly, you have to press your hand to your mouth to keep yourself from screaming. You can feel the wave mounting inside you, and you couldn't stop it even if you wanted to, and a minute later your first real orgasm hits you, and you are shaking in Sanji's grasp as he licks you like a man starved, proud and excited by the pleasure he was able to give you.

Your eyes meet above your heaving chest; you are both smiling, breathless. "That was... amazing." you whisper, and Sanji grins as he reaches to kiss you once more, neither bothering about the taste.

"We have just started." he assures you "Will you help me with my clothes, darling?"

He stands from the bed to let you take his trousers off, smiling softly as he sees how your hands shake; a moment later he's finally naked, and you can't help gulping as you gently take his erection in your hand, heavy and hard. You swallow, and instinctively lower your face to it to lick the tip.

Sanji jumps. "Shit..."

"I'm sorry, I thought... that was ok..." you stammer, suddenly alarmed "Did I hurt you?"

"Hurt?" he repeats, completely breathless, as if he had never heard that word before "Quite... quite the opposite. I... (name), I..."

He can't find the words to describe what he wants, but thank God you know it already, and this is miles beyond what you had already experience in, but you must be naturally talented, or perhaps this is one of those things you simply know how to do. You keep Sanji's eyes in yours as you take his erection in your mouth, swallowing it almost to the base and using your lips, your tongue and even (cautiously) your teeth to give him pleasure; he moans, bucking his hips, his hands caressing your hair.

"God... you're so good, baby... you take me so well..."

Emboldened, you wish you could make him climax with your mouth, but Sanji asks you to stop after a while, smiling as he sees you pout. "As much as I love the feeling of your mouth, there is somewhere else I'd rather come." he tell you as he cleans your lips with his fingers "Let me take care of you."

A silent nod is the only answer you feel able to give, and the only one Sanji needed; your hand guides him back on the bed where, a slight and natural awkwardness covered by your kisses, Sanji lies above you, gently caressing your hair as he lifts your leg above his hips.

"I love you." you murmur; you feel barely able to breathe, but those words easily leave your lips, as natural as a breath "Sanji, let me be with you forever."

He smiles, pressing his forehead to yours; he isn't inside you yet, but the intimacy of that moment goes beyond what you could describe in words, the marvelous feeling of being one, a closeness born from love and passion and trust and empathy. You doubt you will ever feel anyone as close as Sanji is in that moment, and that makes you happy.

"Nothing and no one will ever come between us." he murmurs "I promise."

*****

You spend what feels like hours locked in an embrace, exchanging lazy but hot kisses as your hands explore each other's body. Your fondling makes Sanji grow turgid once more, and he has to use your pillow to suffocate his screaming (yes, screaming) as you do get to make him come in your mouth; he gets even a minute later when you both find out that you really enjoy your chest being sucked, which Sanji does until you are a moaning mess, begging for mercy, and he has to gift you your third orgasm, this time using his fingers, to make you calm down.

This night is perfect; this night feels as if it would never end. Unfortunately, this is not the case, and an hour before dawn, after he risked for the second time to fall asleep with his cheek pressed against your chest and your fingers in his hair, Sanji reluctantly abandons the warmth of your bed, and of your body, to get dressed. You both know it can't be helped; if your father discovered him in your bed, even now that you are an adult and about to go live on your own, the consequences would be catastrophic.

"Things will be different once we have moved to the capital." you reassure him as you pick up what is left of his shirt to throw it away "I want my dad to visit, but we can tell him we met again on campus and decided to date; he does like you, and he'll accept I am old enough to have a boyfriend."

"I hope he will." Sanji considers, as he ties his shoes; he hesitates for a moment, and then: "What if I wanted to tell him the truth?"

"You mean...?"

"About us, yes. I could have never given up on you, (name), but I didn't like lying to your father; I owe him so much, and I'd like give his blessing to our relationship. Don't you?"

Nothing would make you happier, even though, you must admit, the prospect of having to confess you have deliberately disobeyed him for five years is not pleasant; you love your father, and the last thing you have ever wanted was to disappoint him, even though there is no price you wouldn't have paid if it meant being with Sanji. You admire the fact your boyfriend wants to be honest with his benefactor, and you need - no, you want to be as brave as he is.

"Then we will tell him."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. It's not going to be pretty, and I know he'll be very angry, but he deserves the truth. We all do." you point out with a sigh; then, seeing Sanji is almost done getting dressed: "Wait..."

You stand as well, and walk to the mannequin wearing the men's shirt, an elegant light blue model with white collar and cuffs. You return to Sanji to offer him the shirt. "Here, wear this."

"... are you sure?"

"Of course, I had planned to give it to you to celebrate your admission to the Baratie. Try it on, let me see how it looks on you."

It looks great, even though it is perhaps more because of Sanji's good looks and physique than anything else; he carefully buttons it, and happily looks at himself in the full-length mirror. "My favourite tie will go perfectly with this."

"I know, why do you think I chose this colour?"

Naked as you are, you don't feel cold, especially as you feel Sanji's gaze lingering on your body as his brown eyes admire the flesh he has lost himself in just two hours ago, but that he's not yet sated by.

Soon, your smile tells him as you return the gaze, committing the beauty of his lithe but strong body to memory, as soon as we have moved to our dormitories, or as soon as my father has to leave for one of his work trips. I want you again too; I think I'll never stop wanting you.

As usual Sanji seems to understand you without the need for words, because he smiles once more and, as soon as he is done admiring himself in the mirror (which you cannot blame him for; the shirt does look amazing on him!) he takes your face in his hands to kiss you once more. "I am so happy." he murmurs "Happy we got to share this moment. I... I do want to be with you forever, but..."

"... but you are happy I was your first, and you mine. I know, Sanji; I feel the same."

You spend a precious minute like this, your foreheads touching, your fingers intertwined, as you breathe in each other's air and savour that new form of intimacy. In this moment, you are not afraid Sanji can doubt your feelings anymore; but in any case, you promise yourself, you'll still make sure he knows how much you love him, every day from now to eternity.

In the end, it's time for your boyfriend to go. He takes his backpack and insists you put your nightgown on, in case one of the neighbours looks out of their windows, before you accompany him on the balcony, where a last kiss sees him climb over the parapet and cautiously reach the tree's closest branches.

"Thanks for the cake! It was really delicious."

Sanji winks at you, mischievousness dancing in his eyes. "I think you thanked me enough already."

"Oh, you are so vulgar..."

Your laugh follows him as Sanji quickly climbs down the tree, finally reaching the ground safe and sound; he looks up at you and waves, and you wave back, and "I'll be back soon; I promise." he says, and you nod as he starts walking away, and remain where you are until Sanji has disappeared, hidden in the murmuring darkness surrounding the villa.

#One Piece #One Piece Live Action #OPLA #Sanji #Vinsmoke Sanji #Black Leg Sanji x reader l #Black Leg Sanji #Sanji x reader #Vinsmoke Sanji x reader #Black Leg Sanji x reader #Taz Skylar #Bellona's stuff

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writingoddess1125 · 7 months

Note

Can you please also write about getting high with Buggy, Shanks, and Mihawk?🥺🙏

OMFG YES!!! HOLD ON!!

I did do Buggy in my original but What the hell let's add in a Pt. 2!

You Get High With Them pt.2 🍃🚬

Part 1 <<<

Mihawk

Mihawk would stumble on you making some cookies, you smile at him clearly having already eaten a large amount of the Infused cookie dough.

"I made infused cookies" You say holding up the finished plate. He would raise an eyebrow at you- before you explained how you made and the effects of edibles. Offering him some while the two of you listen to music he accepts, figuring it won't effect him much.

Sitting in his lounge the two of you eat some cookies- You already fairly sky high only have one while Mihawk's eats three while sipping his wine as he enjoyed the taste enough and the odd earthiness, music flooding the room.

"I do not feel anything" He says calmly after only a few minutes, Finishing his second glass. You smile at him and gesture to the other cookie calmly, time moving way slower for you so youd figured it had been longer since he had eaten his.

"Then take another one" You say, The older man sighs and reaches over taking the second cookie and eating the whole thing rather quickly- This should have clued you in that this was a bad idea...

It took 30 minutes before Mihawk was leaned back in his chair and eyes closed. You sit up to look at him and see that he was clearly in a different plane of existence at this point.

"Mihawk- You're in orbit-" You say with a giggle as you see his face scrunch up in confusion, it looked like he was trying to open his eyes but couldn't.

"My perspective of time is way off" He mumbled, this confused you but you let this ride talking to yourself as you let the one sided conversation and music hover and wrap around the both of you.

He was in a different world, completely silent as he stared at random things. Disconnected and disassociated completely from the world of the living as the music plays and he stares at his hand, his pants and his knife necklance-

"Mihawk you alright there guy?" You ask out, pulling him back to the world for a moment and stares at you with squinted yellow eyes.

"I am unsure how to answer" He says, before falling back into his anti-social thoughts and world.

Shanks

You were a new member of Shanks crew and by far the youngest, so when he catches you with a joint he questions what it is. You tell him and explain the relaxing feeling it provides and how things are a lot more interesting, Shanks of course finding this to be fun ask for you to share with him and the rest of the crew. Clearly not having enough you tell him to head to a island near by were you knew it grew.

Heading to Zasso Island you lead the crew to a friend of yours who gave you plenty for a cheap price since not many people partook. After rolling more joints at once then you would in a month you spark up the whole crew.

"Why do your shoes look like that?... it's like wooden feet with sandel straps" You point out, Shanks slowly leaning over to look and see what you were describing.

"Holy hell it does... Actually I don't know where I got these shoes from-" He mumbles in surprise at this, staring at his shoes in surprise.

"Shhhh Shhhh Chill" You hear him say, clearly not wanting to ruin the very relaxed atmosphere. However you and him constantly started talking, Shanks being quite a chatter box.

"They look like dead peoples feet-" You say, which start to make your paranoid brain go off at such a sight.

"I do think I did wrong by Buggy- I think he loved me more then I wanted to acknowledge..." He admits as the two of you lay on the hammack together.

Shanks is the contemplative high, thinking about the past present and future as he is high off his ass. Turning the whole deal into some warped therapy session for everyone.

"How do you feel about him?" You ask softly, turning to look at the Captian as he took another drag of his joint.

"I.. Don't know- But I know I keep him close to my heart" He admits and places the joint back to his lips to open his coat were their was a inner pocket. Pulling out some folded papers which you see are wanted papers- Buggys and Luffys specifically.

Buggy

Go to part 1 for Buggys original

After using far too much will power you two stumble out of the Hotboxed room and venture down to the kitchen. Standing there just dazed as you two take it all in-

"So many different types of food..."

Buggy mumbled as he stared at the pantries of his ships kitchen, you grabbing some jugs of water and hand one to him which he takes and downs really quickly.

"My mouth feels like a desert" He whispers way too loudly, reaching clumsily for some leftovers. You nod in agreement and reach for some of the pastries left over from breakfast and Buggy grabs a random bowl and some sweet crackers.

"I've got a question- For your abilities does it still hurt to be like cut up? Even though you get cut up?" You ask as he takes a far too big of bite of what seemed to be straight frosting- or mashed potatos you couldn't tell.

Leaning against the countertop eating random shit together as you start asking questions.

"Hm? Yeah- I'm just used to it so it doesn't bother me too much" He said with a shrug, Taking another bite of the mysterious food.

"That's sad- You shouldnt be used to pain" You mumbled sadly, Buggy reaching over and patting your back with unsteady heavy hands.

"It's better then being used to having your will broken. Physical pain will fade or you grow uses to it- But emotional last forever. That's the real pain" He said calmly, once again that Philosopher Buggy coming out. It isn't long before the two of you go back to the room wehre you guys hotbox it again.

You two will lounge back in the room with far too many snacks and start singing random songs.. Mainly show tunes since he loves his musicals.

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #buggy one piece #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #one piece mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #mihawk x reader #one piece shanks #shanks one piece #red haired shanks #shanks #one piece imagine

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schemmentis · 19 days

Text

La Cosa Nostra - Pt. 2

Co-Written w/ @janeyseymour

Part 1

Summary: You tell Melissa what's going on, and the investigation continues...

WC: 2k

Irish Translations: Mo ghrá - My love, A storin - My little treasure

Italian-American/Italian Translations: Figlio di puttana - son of a bitch, mamaluke - idiot/fool, Ti voglio ben’assai - I love you so much

“Well,” Danek sighs. “She said the magic words.”

You let out a rather long yawn, this unplanned late night catching up to you. “Can I go home now? God... my wife is going to kill me.”

“You’re back here at nine sharp, lawyers present,” Shaw tells you. “Or we will find you, and we will arrest you.”

You huff. “Can we do ten?” you try to negotiate. “If I’m going to stay married, I know I’m going to have to take my girls to school today, and they start at nine.”

“Ten o’clock,” Shaw tells you. “But know that if you aren’t her-”

“I know,” you roll your eyes. “You will find me, and you will arrest me.”

You stand and go to leave, only to realize that your car is sitting safely in your driveway at home. It’s far too late for you to walk home alone safely now too. “Can you take me home?”

You’re escorted back to your house, grumbling about how if you were hiding something like they think you are, why on Earth would you let them know where you live. You only hope these two believe you. The entire ride home, you feel the binder dig into your back, and you know when you go to change you’ll have various marks from the edges of the sharp book.

Unlocking your door, you sigh heavily. Kicking off your shoes and relocking the door in the dark, you finally shrug off your blazer and pull the binder from between your belt. You stretch just slightly before making your way into the bedroom.

The sight before you makes your heart swell. Both of your little ones are curled into your wife’s sides as she sleeps just slightly propped up, clearly having fallen asleep waiting for you and trying to work out her own business. Her glasses are half on her face, her phone is resting on her chest, and both hands are laying over your twins’ chests.

You get ready for bed as quietly as possible and hide the ledger for your illegal business in the safe under your bed before sliding in and attempting to lay Melissa down without waking her. Of course though, that doesn’t work.

“Y/N?” your wife lets out sleepily as she blearily opens her eyes. They take a few seconds to adjust and focus on you. She glances at the clock. “It’s three am, and you’re just getting in?”

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” you sigh softly as you curl up around Rosie. “Get some sleep, I’ll wake up with the girls tomorrow to make it up to you for not being here last night.”

“Are you okay?” Melissa asks you in a whisper.

You prop yourself up on your elbows to kiss her gently. “I don’t know, but you three will be.”

“What does that mean? Where were you?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you sigh as you lay back down and close your eyes.

You feel a gentle hand reach for your own in the darkness. It squeezes, almost too tight for just a moment before it relents to a soft grasp. You take a deep breath, though you don’t open your eyes. You know it’s Melissa’s silent way of reinforcing her presence, as well as her combination of frustration and worry.

“You don’t just get to come home at three am after leaving me high and dry for mom duty.” Your wife’s voice hits your ears softly in the dark. You’re certain it’s only because your girls are asleep next to you both that she doesn’t sound as pissed as you expected. “After having Tony tell me to take my ziti off the menu, might I add. Then he didn't even tell me where you were. I was worried.”

“I was down at the station,” you reveal with a heavy breath. “Now seriously, Mo ghrá, get some sleep, and we can talk about this tomorrow.”

Your wife huffs, not thrilled to not be clued in with whatever is taking place, but she does relent. An arm of hers wraps around Cat as she lets her own eyes flutter shut.

That night, you dream of what might come out of this. You dream of ways for you to possibly escape the sticky situation that you’ve found yourself in. But you also have nightmares of the many (and more probable) ways that this could all pan out: Melissa being hurt, your girls getting hurt, being taken away from the twins, being murdered- just like Bobby.

You don’t know how long it took you to fall asleep. Properly asleep, that deep and restorative sleep. You know when you wake up though. Your eyes pop open, startled awake by the slap of a tiny palm to your face. Half a palm and little fingers blocking your left eye and the other half pressed to your upper cheek.

“Mam.” One tiny voice doing her best to whisper calls for you. You blink when the little hand pulls away to see Cat, half sprawled across your wife and her sister to reach you. “Mam!” Her decent attempt at a whisper rises with her excitement to see you awake.

You softly shush her. “I’m happy to see you too, A storin, but we don’t want to wake up Mommy.” You quietly explain as you untangle yourself from your little family taking up all of your bed.

You pick up Cat first since she’s awake, kissing her small cheek before you maneuver to pick up her sister. You carry both your girls to the kitchen, setting them to their chairs at the table. “Mam is going to make breakfast and then take you to school, okay? We’re going to use our inside voices and let Mommy get some extra rest.”

Thankfully, they listen to you. Seemingly, they’re content so long as you’re in sight and softly speaking with them or humming the songs you know they like. You only have a small snafu when Cat insists she has to wear the shoes you’d just gotten onto Rosie’s feet. They are her shoes and not her sister’s, she informs you. You placate her by proffering an exact matching pair that would have been put on her feet next anyway. She still grumbles a bit about her sister wearing her shoes, though.

You’re just about to get them out the door when Melissa appears, dressed aside from her shoes. She kisses each of your girls’ heads when they greet her excitedly as she leans down to grab the pair she means to put on.

“I told you I’d take them in.” You softly remind her. “You were supposed to be sleeping in.”

She glances up at you as she slips her heel over her foot, balancing without leaning against the doorway. “Are you kidding? This is already more sleeping in than I usually get. I need to check on the prep since I didn’t get to oversee it personally.” Melissa looks away just long enough to situate her other heel before her eyes return to you, slightly harder than usual. “Besides, you still need to tell me about last night.”

You nod, hustling your little ones out the door a little faster than you might otherwise. You’re on the edge of running late and the last thing you need is some PPD squad car pulling you over because it’s 10:01 and you haven’t walked back into the station yet.

Melissa gives you a look once you’re all in the car, the girls safely into their car seats in the back. You can read her expression well enough by now. You can tell she doesn’t like what’s going on- your late night last night, you're rushing them all this morning.

You sigh as you pull out of your driveway towards the girls’ school. “I have to be back at the station at ten.” You finally say beneath the girls singing along to Frozen songs played from your phone over the car speakers.

“Back at the station?” Melissa repeats, staring at you. “What’d they need you back for? They didn’t figure all this sh—” She stops herself short of swearing with a deep breath. “They didn’t figure out what they needed from you last night?”

You glance in your rearview mirror, ensuring both the girls are still occupied. Not that they’re old enough to understand anything they may hear. They are, however, old enough to repeat whatever they hear without discretion.

“They’re investigatin’ Bobby’s murder.” You answer as you look back to traffic. “I dunno what they’ve found in doin’ that but it…it sure seems like whatever it is also put them on to the salon. I wouldn’t be surprised if they got people campin’ it.”

“So, let’s just call Tommy. He’s kept the blues off of everything for us plenty of times before.”

“Mel…” You take a breath. Tommy is one of your ins in the PPD, an old connection and friend by now. The girls call him Uncle Tommy. He comes to your house on holidays. You trust Tommy. But even Tommy can’t go up against the FBI. Not without risking himself immensely. “It’s the Feds, babe.”

“Figlio di puttana!” Your wife does curse now, not exactly quietly but not as loud as you know it would have been if you were the only two in the car. Hopefully the language switch and bigger words means if the twins heard, they can’t really repeat it properly.

Melissa doesn’t say anything else as you pull up to the twins’ school. She only speaks to say goodbye to both your girls and tell them to have a good day before you walk them in. You take a little extra time to say goodbye to them yourself in their classroom doorway. You hug them both tight, telling them you love them. Just in case. You can’t help imagining the worst from the rest of whatever today holds.

When you get back to the car, Mel has switched to the driver’s seat. You slip into the passenger without batting an eye. You can see the tension the redhead is holding. In her shoulders, in the steady whitening of her knuckles as she grips the steering wheel. You feel it all mirrored in your own muscles.

“I’m comin’ in with you.” She says as you turn down the street the station sits on.

“No.” You quickly protest. “I kept you from the restaurant last night; you need to worry about that today.” You insist.

“Fuck that, I’m not leavin’ you to sit in an interrogation room for hours again. If you had told me that’s what was happenin’ last night—”

“I was already asking plenty by asking you to miss your prep. The girls needed you to be with them last night.”

“No, what the girls needed was you to be there to keep your promise to ‘em. Don’t get me started, Y/N.”

You close your eyes briefly as Melissa swings your car into the station’s parking lot. You squeeze them tighter just a little when you hear her grumble next to you. “Oh, great. Do we really need Sammy?”

You open your eyes after a deep breath. You see Sammy, dressed immaculately in a suit as he steps from his mercedes. Salvatore ‘Sammy’ Gaetano is one of the best lawyers in the city. He’s also a member of the Italian mafia in Philly. Which is why he’s standing in the station’s parking lot, staring pointedly at you through your car’s windshield. He raises his arm, tapping his rolex. You’re running out of time.

“Look, go to the restaurant, okay? Take care of everything there that you need to, alright? I’ll ask Sammy to call your Ma to get the girls from school so you don’t have to worry about them tonight.”

Melissa’s glare turns away from Sammy, still staring as he waits on you, to you. “And what about you, huh? I’m just ‘spose to not worry about you, that it?”

“For today, yes.” You say as you unclip your seatbelt.

“Don’t be a mamaluke.” Melissa grumbles. “You know damn well I’m gonna worry anyhow.” She reaches as you open the car door, gripping the sleeve of your dress shirt and tugging you to lean across the console to her side of the car. She kisses you like her life depends on it. Like she’s worrying about the same thing you are. Like it could be the last time. “Ti voglio ben’assai.” She whispers to you when she pulls away.

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