#iron man layouts | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

willowser · 9 days

Text

ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴏɴ ᴀʟʟ ғᴏᴜʀs. werewolf kiri au.

you wake up under a mountain of furs.

light comes flickering from the hearth and, warm and welcoming as it is—you've no idea where you are.

you don't recognize the inside of the cabin; it's certainly not yours, nor is its layout that of any you’ve seen in the village. it's rather plain, with a singular window and table and chair and small fireplace, empty enough that you wonder how anyone could live comfortably with so little.

outside, the winter storm rages on, and there's a howl that cuts through the air that strikes bone-deep.

all at once your memories come back to you: dragged through town with bound hands and ankles, in only a thin night dress, screaming with all your might as the physician that delivered you into this world tied you to an old pine, along with the priest and the man that sold you blueberries in the spring.

people you knew and loved. had trusted.

the memories become hazy after a while, darkening with the night that crept in. you remember your body losing its feeling, but not its fear. you remember the violence of the storm, breaking trees and branches and uprooting the forest floor. you remember the horrible and hulking shape of something rising in the moonlight.

the door shoves open then, with enough force to send you scurrying back into the corner of the room. the blizzard tries to rush inside, but a man stands in its way, leaning back against the wood to keep the wind and snow out where it belongs. he's—big, as tall as the frame and just as wide, with thick hair that he's tied back, messy and low.

he's rosy in his cheeks and on the tip of his nose, as bright as the eyes that snap to you the moment you dare to breathe.

he doesn't say anything, at first. the bag of firewood he sets at his feet settles as he turns to you in interest, eyebrows raised. the clothes he's wearing look—old and worn, certainly not suitable for the storm roaring outside, with the holes and tears in the fabric. the boots he has on, however, seem heavy, have his steps echoing when he moves further into the room.

you pull your knees up to your chest and try to shrink away; beneath your thin dress, your skin has pebbled up, reminding you of just how vulnerable you still are.

your fear translates; the man stops on the other side of the little table, breathing in deeply before raising his hands up in what reads as surrender.

"hello," he finally says, and when you don't respond, he places a thick hand to his dark-haired chest and introduces himself as, "eijirou."

he nods emphatically and then repeats himself, as if to reinforce the name. you only grant him a small nod in return—and he smiles. it's wide, stretching across his face, and friendly, authentic enough that you question whether you're as damned as you thought, or perhaps saved.

how did you even get here? the question finally thaws out from the recesses of your brain and you take another look around the room as if the answer lies between the wood or nestled into the furs. this place looks too hand-crafted, you realize, all of it—and the man before you looks like he could move mountains, if he wanted to.

the chains that had bound you were iron-strong and didn't once budge in all your thrashing, before things went dark—but now you are inside by a well-maintained fire, warm and free, and all that remains of your ill fate are the indentions worn into your wrists.

he's still staring at you, the man. eijirou. he's not moved any closer, either, and when you meet his curious gaze, his lips twist and his eyes narrow. a thoughtful noise comes out of his mouth, like he's thinking of what to say or how to say it, and you're reminded that you don't recognize where you are, nor do you recognize him in the slightest.

big as he is, you don't think he could have carried you too far in a snowstorm such as the one still raging outside; are you still somewhere deep in the forest? in a cabin at the heart of the wood? saved by a man that somehow survives with so little out in the middle of nowhere?

"eijirou," you test the name on your lips and he perks up at the sound, attention snapping back to you instantly. you don't know if it's winter seeping through the floor, or if it's in the way that he watches you, that makes you shiver.

finally, he asks, "cold?" and when you nod, he slowly makes his way over to you, carefully, as if approaching a deer ready to run.

—and then he sheds his shirt with a quick shrug and holds it out to you.

you should want to look away, for decency sake, but you're—stunned by it, by him. there's a litany of scars that paint him in odd and worrisome places, but he stands tall and strong before you, unbothered by his own state. unbothered by the eyes that run over the expanse of his bare shoulders, the dark, thick trail of hair running down from his belly button, the ripples of muscle his loose shirt did well to hide.

you take it from him carefully and it's so warm, almost hot, that you press it to your face immediately to chase away the chatter of your jaw. the material itself, however ragged, is big enough to drape over your curled form like a blanket, and so you do just that. it carries the earthy smell of the woods, deeply woven into the fabric; pine and musk and something smoky.

with your cheek still pressed to his shirt, you look up to thank him, at last, but the words still in your throat at the minute changes of his face: still smiling, though sharper now, somehow, and his eyes are still wide with that keen, rapt interest—but the crimson to them has set like the sun and they've grown just as dark as the night outside.

#i wrote this like a madman pls excuse the first draft quality hehe #PLEASEEEE he's so akfhahfkah isn't socialized LOL #doesn't talk to anyone really 🥺has no reason to 🥺#he's new to all this 🥺#doesn't mean to put you in his lil nest and cover you in the smell of him 👀#okay well he DOES but he didn't know it would AFFECT HIM THAT WAY PLEASE #ugh this has been living in my head for so long i'll write more of this when it isn't 1 am LOL #✿ thoughts: kirishima #✿ willow writes #song is wolf like me by tv on the radio !!!

332 notes · View notes

hanwiore · 8 months

Note

pls pls pls write one where a waiter keeps flirting with y/n and she ignores his advances and eren gets so proud that he takes her home and rewards her for being a good girl AHHHH!!

ughhhhh 😩😩

Eren decided to take you to a nice dinner on a Saturday evening, your hair freshly done, nails freshly done, eyelashes freshly did just during the morning and the afternoon just for this day, just for this date. You loved looking good with your man because he also looked good as well, he got fair compliments as well as you and maybe you even more so, i mean who wouldn’t like a woman like you with a body like that?

Your black dress sat nicely, pushing your boobs together with your gold chain on, ysl heels clicking against the marble like floor while you waited for your waitress to come. “I like the restaurant layout, it’s nice.” You hum, lips pouting with your chin in hand. Then you look at your man, hair down, face clear and lips pink spreading into a gentle smile. He also worn his gold chain, wanted to be like you, but his has your name.

Something about the way your necklace has no trance of Eren’s name but his do made butterflies form in his stomach, like you had him on a leash. Your eyes looks down at his black button up shirt, ironed and clean. You bit your glossed lips but was interrupted by your waiter. “Hello, i’m Nathan and i will be you guys waiter for today. May i start with your drinks…ma’am?” Eren side eyes the waiter like you guys weren’t here together so he should have suggested the drinks together.

He brushed it off as thinking it was some type of mannerism. “Mhm yes, i’d like a blueberry pomegranate lemonade. Whatd’ you want baby?” You smile and eren takes notice you also notice the mans attention towards you. “I’d like water, for now.” He hums, and the waiter stays there for a second, looking at you and then moves away. You go back simply looking through the menu humming along to the piano music in the back.

It wasn’t long before the man came back, with only one drink. And you would of known, it was only yours. “Hm, wheres the water?” You asked as you sat up, the man blushes and fidget on his toes. “Oh silly me, I must’ve forgotten, distracted by a beauty.” you frown and roll your eyes, “yes my boyfriend really is a beauty.” You laugh slightly and the man stands still giving eren a glance as he sits there smiling at the man. “O-oh im not gay i was t-talking about-,” you scoff and told him to go the water.

“It’s so hard being a sexy woman eren, im tired already.” You fake yawn. Eren bites his lip and nods a little. You almost thought eren was upset, thinking if you said anything that may have made the waiter think you were head over hills, but that was before you got home, before you even stepped foot through the door.

You were slammed against the wall behind the front door, wet lips kissing against your coco butter smelling neck. “O-oh gosh.” You breath, barely even understanding what just happened. “My pretty baby, so loyal and so fucking sexy.” He groans in your neck. Grabbing on your thick thighs and spreading them, your heels click against the floor when you almost stumble over. “H-ha t-thank you,” you moan when his hand goes and cups around your fat lips through your red laced panties.

“Had me hard in the restaurant baby, just f-for fuckin breathing.” He rubs two fingers on your swollen clit that throbbed, “wanna please you so good right now, for being such a good girl yea? you so pretty baby, tell me what you want. I swear to you i’ll do it.”

Thats what has you face down and ass in the air on the edge of the bed while Eren stands, fucking your sloppy pussy while both of your hands spread your ass cheeks, seeing your wetness all over his dick, he moves his dick out slowly only to thrust back in harshly, shoving every inch up in you just to hear you gasp and grip on your own ass. One of his hands move up your back and grip the back of your neck and his thrust turns faster, now hitting you all up in your spot that has your toes curling.

“R-right there daddy.” Your moans turn quiet, now only your mouth open and drool on your pillow. “Right there baby? It feels good right there?” He says it so sweetly and nice as he kept his pace up, spitting on your tight hole that never been touched and he circles his thumb right there, your pussy clenches around him and his moans, moving his hand from your neck just to smack your ass. He shoves the tip of his thumb in your hole and you moan loudly,

Moving back and forth on his thick dick, creaming on it, “D-daddy! m’cumming, pl-please ugh fuck.” Your crying now, you move one of your hands from your ass cheek to your clit and start rubbing furious circles on it, you felt your stomach feeling funny before the wetness begin to seek out of it through your finger tips. You sniffled and cried. “Yea mama, just like that. Such a good girl for me hm? Deserve the world pretty. mhm deserve it all.”

“I’m almost finished with you baby. 2 more.”

#eren x reader #black reader #smut #aot smut #black fem reader #aot x black reader #black women #black woman #aot x y/n #eren x y/n #eren yeager #eren x black fem!reader #eren smut #eren jeager x reader #attack on titan eren #eren x you

986 notes · View notes

writingmysanity · 6 months

Text

Commit to the Bit (1)

Pairing: Sanji x Baker!Reader

Word Count:

TW: ummmm nothing really, perhaps slightly creepy man.

A/N: Not beta'd... well, not fully. dying on this hill lol thank you @stray-kaz and @sordidmusings for listening to me ramble about this and helping me find some direction with it, considering I sat down to write with "baker" and a vibe. You're amazing.

Early mornings were always your favorite.

The gentle risings paired with the lingering silence in the streets as you wander towards the building resting in center square. Though silent, you're not alone. Wandering shadows linger in groups as the various vendors trickle into the square to begin their daily set up just as the sun begins to kiss the horizon.

Your family has long since owned many of the buildings in the square. Before the last revolution on the island, your grandparents ruled it with an iron fist. You have since taken over the duties, your grandparents being some of the few taken in the onslaught, your father left with permanent injuries that keep him from working any longer.

You often feel as if these things should trouble you, the knowledge of what happened. The passing shadows flickering in your peripheral should bring you some sort of unease, even as one darts towards you as you turn the key to your shop. Instead, you turn towards the small body, quickly accompanied by that of his mother, a smile hiding the exhaustion on your face as they call your name.

“Yes?” stopping abruptly before you, Peter moves to shove a small sack into your hands, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He is excited, firm in the knowledge that he is often treated to a fresh pastry from your ovens if he behaves. His mother pauses behind him, hand resting on his shoulder as she attempts to hide her unease.

“Our rent,” she states softly. You nod, but she continues. “I understand it is two days late…” she sounds winded, panicked. “I will earn the rest today, I swear.” Slowly, your smile slides from your face as you shove the door open, motioning to the young boy to hurry in.

“You know where you may go,” you state softly. He takes off like a bullet into the darkness, easily able to navigate the layout by now. You wait until he is out of earshot before you turn back to the woman before you, softening.

“You owe me no more,” you assure her. She moves to dispute it, but you raise a hand, the glistening light of the dawn making the whole world around you dusty, hazy. “No late fees, no worries.” you assure her. It has only been a year, and still the fear seems to have settled firmly in the hearts of those around you. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she forces a kind smile on her son as he comes barreling back out of the shop, arms full of loaves of bread.

“Peter,” she warns, gently. “That is too much. You are allowed a snack.” Again, you wave her off.

“They were going to be fed to the birds anyhow.” you assure her. “Day-old bread doesn't sell as well.” she pauses before nodding.

“Thank you”

Watching as they wander away, you can't help but sigh. Golden rays filter over the open sea, casting the island in brilliant hues of pinks and purples as it chases away the last of the shadows. Steadily, more bodies clamber into the square, limbs clumsy with sleep. The ever lingering scent of salt mixing with the warmth of fresh bread coming from inside the shop.

Taking a deep breath, you swing around, heading into the building with a smile.

“Angie!” you call with laughter in your tone as the short red head appears before you. She smiles brightly at you, her normal lopsided smile fading with sleep, her face and hands covered in various spots of flour.

“You’re late,” she accuses, scrunching her nose to chide at you playfully. Shrugging slightly, you smile apologetically, nodding at the door.

“Sorry,” you start with a hum, lifting the bag that Peter had shoved into your hands. “I got stopped.” she just nods with a laugh.

“I saw,” she hums. “Little thing scared me, I thought another dog got in.”

“Nope, just Peter.” you muse as you go to put the berry away. “Though, I can't say there is much difference.” you both laugh when you catch a glimpse of the cabinet you keep stocked with your day-old goods.

He didn't clear it out, you notice, softening. Angie follows your eyes, smiling softly.

“I still don't know why you dont sell those.” she hums. “They won't earn as much, but more than giving them away for free.” you shrug, settling on the floor, looking at the remnants as you try to plan what lunches you can make with what is left.

“We make enough, Ang,” you say softly. “And there are people who go hungry. The island is still healing.”

She doesn't push. She knows of your guilt, even if there is nothing for you personally to feel guilty of. Your family has done a lot of damage, and she can't find fault in you wanting to fix as much of it as you can.

“They are doing well,” she assures you, hand resting on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “Now if you don't mind,” she grins, winking down at you. “My shift is over. I would love to get some sleep.” laughing softly at her, you nod.

“You've helped me so much, I appreciate you.” you say softly, standing to see her off. She just nods, wiping her hands to rid herself of as much of the white gloop as possible, heading towards the door.

“Yeah, yeah,” she calls. “Love you, too. There is a new batch in the oven, don't forget them. I'll beat you if you ruin my work!” she states as the door slides shut behind her. Huffing a laugh, you start loading the fresh pastries and breads into the displays’ as the sun lifts higher in the sky. It won't be long until the market is filled with locals and guests alike. Pirates and marines looking to stock their ships and merchants trying to sell their wares to the locals.

By the time you finish stocking the first of the pastries, the door dings as it swings open. The distant hum of life swarming the market makes you smile as you rise to greet your first customer. Jeff, your biggest regular, and an unfortunate thorn in your side, strolls in with a large grin. You can't help the slight twinge to your smile, threatening to twist into a scowl.

“Jeff!” you call as evenly as you're able. “You’re early.”

His laughter echoes strangely in the small area as he settles into “his” spot next to the window, shifting to rest his heels on the opposite chair as he leans back. Far too used to getting his will, either by throwing money at it or with sweetened words dripping with honey, you have found the man incapable of accepting your favorite two lettered word. His ways may get him places with those of the odd house wife who married much too young in fear of being alone, but you can't help but feel sick when he turns his charms on you. Still, you could do worse, as far as your father is concerned. He is hoping to settle you into a life of luxury, free of having to work yourself to the bone.

You'd rather work yourself to death than allow him to rest a ring on your hand, though.

A prize, you realized long ago, is all he views you as. You own land, and by marriage, it would become his own.

“I couldn't wait to see you again,” he coos, his whole body seeming to lean into his wink as your false smile tugs down at the corners. “I've been gone, haven't you missed me?” he calls loudly. As if you couldn't hear a whisper or the drop of a pin. His boisterous voice makes you cringe. Sighing, you prepare him his regular – a strawberry tartlet and a cup of coffee.

“I miss the peace.” you grouch to yourself, back turned to him. Even turned away, you can feel his eyes on you, raking down your form.

You don't have to check to know that the exact amount is already waiting for you on the table top, resting in neat piles. Setting his order before him, you go to pull away to grab the money when his fingers slide over your palm to grab your wrist. Clenching your teeth, you bite back your knee jerk reaction to slap him.

“When are you going to let me put a ring on that pretty finger, hm?” he asks, leaning forward, his hooded eyes in resemblance of what he believes to be a sultry look. Just as you're about to open your mouth to respond with your sentiments – over your dead body – the door dings again. Immediately, you take the opportunity to pull your hand from his grasp, turning to send the newest patron a relieved smile.

“Hello,” you call, almost a little too cheerful. “Welcome in.”

You watch in amusement as three bodies all try to enter at the same time, shoulders getting stuck in the frame. There is a bicker and a whine before one of them pulls back to allow the other two to stumble in unceremoniously.

“What was that for, stupid cook?” The taller, green-haired man snaps at the blond who had stepped back, his hand wrapped into the back of the third man's shirt, keeping him from trying to lunge forward at the array of goodies before him.

“We couldn't all fit through the door, Mosshead.” The blond states as if it should be obvious. It should be, you felt, but their bickering brings a smile to your face as you place yourself behind the counter again. And far away from Jeff.

They look ready to continue to bicker, so you call out to them again, hoping to catch their attention. “How can I help you today?” they all pause, looking towards you and your expectant look. You smile as the woman that had been forced behind their shenanigans pushes her way through, coming to stand before you.

“Your pastries are fresh?” you nod, motioning to them.

“Made not even an hour ago,” you promise. Three of the other four come to join her at the counter, looking over the variety of pastries, breads and other baked goods you have come to offer. The green haired man stares intently, only moving when the smaller brunette beside him nudges him to the side.

It doesn't take much to recognize them, their faces lie plastered on every bulletin on every island across the seas at this point. Luffy and his signature hat being the biggest tip off, shortly followed by the famed demon hunter shifting his swords at his side to keep from hitting the display. You appreciate the gesture.

You've never been in the habit of turning pirates in, not unless necessary. They bring more revenue in than the entirety of the marine fleets that seemed to stay docked in port.

“See anything you'd like?” you offer after what seemed like several minutes of silence. Out of habit, your eyes trail up to keep tabs on the other body lingering back. You may not make a habit of turning them in, but you know the lot. Oftentimes they are entirely too focused on their own gain and what they can get away with when they think you aren't paying attention.

You almost expect his eyes to be lingering along your wares or the walls, seeing what they think they can steal without being caught. What you certainly didn't expect was for his eyes to be plastered to your face, a bashful, boyish look to him as he seems to try and shrink back and away from your gaze. Blinking, you feel the warmth of your flush touch your ears as your attention is brought back to Luffy as he nearly salivates over the counter, his eyes locked on the pastries.

“Can I get one of everything?” he asks excitedly. Your eyes flick back to the blond man still hovering back from the others as you nod, moving to start pulling everything out.

“Of course,” you say kindly, quietly cheering your ability to keep your voice even. “What about the rest of you?” Their voices ring out as they quickly order before their captain is able to try and swipe the remaining food. Once their orders are pulled, wrapped and packaged, you stand straight, cringing at the twinge that pinches your lower back in retaliation for staying bent over for too long.

“Anything for your friend?” you ask quietly, nodding to Sanji. Breaking from whatever spell he seemed to be under, he strides forward. Nami stares at him oddly when his voice comes out entirely too soft.

“Is there anything you recommend?” He asks slowly, eyes flickering back from you to the food before him. “Anything, of course, that my dear captain has not yet swiped.” He amends, earning a laugh from you, emboldening him. "As long as it is as sweet as you" His words start out strong, but taper off shyly when his eyes catch yours. You can almost see how he is kicking himself, the confused pinch in his brow and how he sends Nami a glare when he catches her curious look.

“My special, coming right up.” you hum, trying to dismiss the flickering gazes of the two in silent conversation. His eyes linger longer, trailing along your skin. You hand each of them their orders, huffing in amusement when Zoro takes Luffy’s order without a word. Last in line is Sanji, his hesitation evident as he reaches out to take the neatly wrapped package from you.

“Thank you,” he smiles, the warmth of it making you squirm slightly. It’s entirely too genuine for a pirate, you decide. Instead of shying away from it, you smile back, unable to help the warmth pooling on your cheeks.

“You'll come tell me what you think of it?” you request, shuffling on your feet, mentally kicking yourself. Evidently, all it takes is a shy look and a pretty smile and you're suddenly unable to keep your composure. He pauses at the door, sending you another smile.

“Nothing would bring me more joy.”

It's not until you look around, reveling in the silence that their departure left, that you realize that the shop is empty. Jeff is nowhere to be seen, his coffee half gone and his tartlet untouched. Huffing, you shift around the counter to clean up his mess, deciding to give the tart to Peter when he comes to visit at lunch time.

========

The rest of your day, and even the better part of the next is quiet. Patrons coming in and out, the gentle push and pull of business as per usual, marines and pirates alike. Being nothing more than a simple seller of wares, many merchants and marines ignore your presence and often talk freely.

It seems pirates are the only ones who can recognize a person with any semblance of power – though they seem to understand your unspoken rules. The biggest being, don't cause a ruckus and there won't be any trouble.

Instead, they sit simply and enjoy their food with relatively boring conversation in comparison to their marine counterparts who openly speak about the bounties they are looking for. Perhaps they are hoping some young maiden will sweep up with large eyes and tell them where their bounty is hiding, begging them to capture them to keep her safe. Perhaps they are just loud. Either way, you didn't like their newest conversation.

The strawhat crew.

As with every time you hear whispers, you send your favorite errand boy to collect the wanted posters. Peter is more than happy to help, racing around the island to tear down the posters while sneaking past the marines.

They may be famous, and they may be memorable, but you refuse to help them be reminded of who they are looking for.

Panting, Peter returns, thrusting the posters into your hands with a grin. You grin down at him, offering him his favorite tartlet, watching his eyes widen in excitement, though it seems much more mild than usual. His mother will appreciate his energy being spent tonight when she locks up.

“Your payment,” you coo, ruffling his hair gently, earning a happy sigh. You pretend not to notice the stares of several of your patrons eyeing the pile of posters in your hands. In silence, one person from each table is waved out the doors, as slowly and inconspicuously as possible, to check the bulletin boards.

Rule number two – if your poster disappears, so should you.

It isn't two hours later that the distant echo of shouts reaches your door. Frowning, you lean out to see what's going on. Did another pirate try his luck against the marines?

Steadily, the shouts get louder, joined in by the various vendors cursing at the lanky body weaving through their stalls in effort to keep ahead of the slew of marines hot on his trail. Another leap and dodge through the vendor two stalls down and you finally get a good look at the pirate in question – Sanji.

Successfully slowing the marines, he skips half a step to gulp down some air before he is yoinked into your shop by his collar.

Immediately, he is on the defensive, yanking back from you. You let him, glowering up at him. Seeing that it's you, he relaxes some, eyes flickering back towards the door.

“As much as i'd love to give your pastry the glowing review it deserves,” he pants. “I'm a tad busy at the moment.” rolling your eyes, you grab the arm of his jacket, tugging him to the kitchen.

“Make yourself look busy,” you hiss. “Quickly.” he freezes, but only for a moment, as he all but throws his jacket off, quickly tying the apron you shove his way. As he finishes, the door dings. Freezing, you both stare at one another for a moment before you force a smile to your face, reaching up to mess up his perfect hair, motioning to the flour, hoping he'd get the idea before you swing out of the kitchen to greet your guests.

“Hello,” you sing. “Welcome in.”

Standing before you is the same slew of Marines, huffing and puffing. Their hair and uniforms are obviously askew, tugged and pulled from placement in their chase. You can't help but muse at the fact that while they looked a mess, you had to forcibly change the pirate's looks to make him look as haggard as these men look just from chasing him.

“How can I help you?”

“Have you seen this man?” The man in front shoves the poster in your face, his tone less inquisitive, more accusatory. Narrowing your eyes at him, you yank the poster from his grip, pretending to get a good look at it. Truly, you can say you haven't seen this man. The artistry of the image before you is laughable at best. They made his face wider, pudgy and his hair stringy and closer to that of the straw your neighbor feeds his hogs. The nose was completely off, much too narrow and flat.

It seems the only thing about the poster that can even be considered “correct” is the name.

“No, sir.” you state honestly, shrugging before making a show of trying to hand him the poster back. He doesn't take it, so you just set it down before you on the counter. He eyes you suspiciously motioning to two other marines to his right.

“Then you wouldn't oppose us searching the premises?” he asks, a sickly sweet smile twisting his features. “To ensure that he hasn't… snuck in here without your knowledge.” Without waiting for your okay, the two marines immediately make for the kitchen. Huffing, you glare at the man who fancies himself in power.

Before you're able to say anything, or even really move, Sanji comes through the kitchen door pretending to be none the wiser. The apron is properly dirtied, as if he has been trying, and failing, to bake all day. His long bangs are tied back, the tufts on the top of his head reminding you of a pineapple. His face is covered in flour, nose scrunched up as he walks in head down seeming to mutter to himself.

“Why can't I get this – excuse me… oh, I'm sorry” he pauses, reeling at the scene before him, eyes going comically wide as he hugs the bowl and whisk in his hands to his chest. “Am I interrupting?” he asks slowly, frowning. You shake your head slightly, offering him a weak smile.

“No, it seems that the world government has just made it their goal to harass us today, is all.” He snorts, rolling his eyes as the marines all seem to zero in on him.

“I thought you said you haven't seen the man, miss” The leader snarls. Curiously, Sanji looks down at the wanted poster, his whole face scrunching up.

“You couldn't possibly mistake… that… for me.” The distaste, the pure unfiltered dejection rolls off of him before offense kicks in. The marines are not amused, but you are, your laughter bubbling up. The sound brings a slight smile to his lips, forcing a pout.

“This is my newest apprentice,” You start, motioning to Sanji with a smile.

“That is obviously a pirate.” he states again, your glare falling to him as he forces out the pleasantries that are expected of him. “Ma'am..”

“He is no such thing,” you roll your eyes, looking rather unimpressed. They turn back to Sanji who is just watching them all with a raised brow.

“What is your name, son?” you’re expecting something common, something easy to fake, but perhaps a strong background. You weren't expecting –

“Rudy,” he states with the utmost clarity, not even pausing for a moment to consider the possibilities. The men before you seemed equally as thrown back, perhaps expecting him to waffle for a moment longer in an attempt to catch him in his lie.

“Rudy?” the marine repeats back to him, slowly, eyebrows furrowing. Sanji just nods, giving a noncommittal one armed shrug, making sure to not allow the bowl to tip over.

“It's a family name.”

Before they can try to wiggle themselves any further, you place your hands on the counter, smiling widely at them. “Now, gentlemen, if you have no further business here, you are invited to go harass those who deserve it.” Several of them go to open their mouths to speak up, but close them when your gaze falls to them, daring them to do so.

After several moments of awkward silence, the Marines quietly file out of the door, each offering a mild apology as they duck through it. Waiting until the last of them have left, you march to the door and lock it – nevermind it is still mid-afternoon. With a degree of finality, you flip the open sign before turning back to the tall blond standing behind the display as he finally sets the bowl down onto the counter top.

“Uh,” he starts, clearing his throat. “Thank you.” He can't seem to meet your gaze. If he had, he would see the amusement dancing in your eyes.

“No problem… Rudy.” you jest. He groans pushing the awful wanted poster away from him, watching it as it flutters and flips to the floor.

“It was the first name that popped in my head,” he defends. “Short notice.” His cheeks flush when you giggle, starting towards him with renewed confidence. Stopping just short of him, you press yourself up onto your tiptoes to run your fingertips over the tufts of hair jutting out from his head.

“Cute.”

=========

Night falls surprisingly quickly once you open your doors back up to continue accepting orders. Sanji stays in the kitchen, keeping up the facade of being your newest apprentice as the Marines continue to hover around, lying in wait for him to try and make a break for it.

He doesn't.

Eventually, they retire for the night. This allows for the darkness that's settled over the town to act as a cover, swallowing the hurried shadows as they file into your little bakery through the back door. Angie is less than enthused to be sharing the space while she continues to busy herself with her job.

“You’re kidding,” Nami tries to sound scandalized but her amusement shines through, earning a glare from the cook before her. Sanji is still wearing the apron you had given him, caked in flour and frosting, though his hair was no longer tied back. Despite his attempts to clean up, he still looked a mess. Usopp and Luffy stare at you and Sanji as you rest against the wall beside the door.

“We still need a few more days for repairs, Sanji.” the orange haired girl sighs heavily, flopping into the chair she had dragged in from the dining area. “And you go and catch the attention of Marines. Great. Fantastic.” This earns a defensive look from the tall blond beside you. “I expect this from Luffy or Zoro.” She continues, her hands jut out at the men in question sitting before her.

Luffy does well to look sheepish at the accusation – probably because it's a true statement. The boy can't seem to stay under the radar to save his life. Zoro on the other hand looks so exceptionally bored with the conversation that he could actually be nodding off.

Scratch that.

He is nodding off.

“Well,” you start slowly. “I may be able to buy you that time.” You offer, earning a clear resounding chorus of confused sounds and wary looks from the rest of the crew, minus Zoro, and a nervous look from the cook. Angie pauses in her kneading, watching you in curiosity. It isn't often you break your own rules. Rule five, don't fraternize with pirates. Get the job done and walk away.

Shooting Sanji an apologetic look, you push on, ignoring the amusement in your friends eyes.

“The marines are stupid, but they are consistent in it.” Nami snorts, nodding. “Well, this afternoon was a close one. We were able to convince them that Sanji was not the man they were looking for. We can keep up the story, keep to the bit, and it should allow you to finish your repairs and restock…”

“What do you need?” Luffy asks, leaning forward curiously. You shrug, jutting your finger at the man beside you.

“Just your cook,” you state calmly.

“What’s in it for you?” Usopp asks with a frown.

“I just hate the smug bastards.” You grouch quietly, earning a snort from Angie where she is busying herself at the overs, muttering to herself. That’s an understatement. You try not to glare at the back of her head.

“Dare I ask, what is the con?” Nami asks, bringing your attention back to her as she stands up, moving to settle before the disheveled cook. He frowns, crossing his arms to mimic her own with a scrunch of his nose.

“Guys,” you hum, tugging on Sanji’s sleeve, catching him a bit off balance in his stare down with the navigator. “Meet my new apprentice.”

“So,” a huff comes from the back of the room. “The cooks’ been demoted?” Zoro’s voice rings out in the silence that surrounds the crew, clear amusement lacing every word. Immediately, Sanji moves to jump after the swordsman, growling.

“Shut it, Mosshead.”

Angie snickers to herself, sliding past the ragtag group to continue her duties. Pausing before Sanji, she offers him a pat on the arm, her hands dusted with flour only adding to the several layers already thickening his once nice shirt, mirth dancing in her eyes.

“Welcome to the team, Newbie.”

=========

no pressure tag list: @stray-kaz @sordidmusings @gingernut1314 @fanaticsnail @rainbowpitofdoom

#vinsmoke sanji #sanji #sanji x reader #black leg sanji #one piece sanji #sanji vinsmoke #opla!sanji x reader #opla #opla sanji #opla sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji one piece

311 notes · View notes

arctrooper69 · 2 months

Text

As Iron Sharpens Iron

"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another" Proverbs 27:17

Beta-read by @dragonrider9905

Chapter 8:

Previous // Next

Warnings: Canon violence. Bad decisions.

--------------------------------------------------

“Okay, let’s go over the plan one more time,” you said quietly.

Omega nodded, pointing at the layout on the screen. “You’ll set off that crate of detonators right here, just inside the front door.”

You nodded. "Yep, and that’ll trigger an alarm which should draw most of the guards towards me - "

“And that’s my cue to sneak down into the cell block to rescue everybody while you grab the staff from the treasure room!” Omega finished emphatically.

“Good!” You grinned, “Remember to keep your communicator on but only use it to contact me if something goes wrong.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

***

Fifteen minutes crept by slowly.

Omega should be at her station about now, you thought.

You wanted to know how she was fairing, but not hearing from her was a good thing. It meant she wasn't in trouble.

Five minutes later, the communicator chirped quietly at your side.

“The guards aren’t leaving!” Omega’s whispered voice sounded tense, “What do I do? I don’t think that diversion worked!”

You peered around the corner into the treasure room. Most of the guards had left.

Only two here. I could take them if I had to.

You could see the staff with it’s glimmering emerald in a case on the back wall.

That was easy.

You lifted the communicator to your lips, trying to remember the readout on the console sitting one floor above.

“There should be a ventilation shaft right above you,” you whispered.

Silence.

“I don’t see one!” Omega whispered back urgently, “And it sounds like there are more guards headed this way!”

Groaning inwardly, you began to wish you hadn’t thought of such a stupid plan. Omega needed you, and you knew that you should get out of there while you still could.

But the staff, a tiny voice whispered in your head, it’s right there. It won’t take long.

You bit your lip. You shouldn’t. A stupid antique wasn’t worth Omega’s life.

Omega’s a smart girl, that voice continued, she’s plenty capable on her own.

It made everything sound so simple. Get the staff, get the boys - that was the plan, wasn’t it?

Hunter will be impressed. He’d like you again.

Guilt churned in your gut as you lifted the communicator again. It chimed just as you opened your mouth, about to tell her that you were on the way.

“Wait, I see it! It’s on the other end of the hall, though, but I think I can make it.”

“Ok,” you responded, “Do it, but be careful!”

“I will!”

Sucking your lower lip in conflicted thought, you made up your mind. “It shouldn’t take me much longer. I’ll grab the staff and meet you by the cell block.”

“Got it.”

You chewed on your lip again, that guilty dread hadn’t abated. If anything, it had gotten worse. Something was going to go wrong - you could feel it. Something wasn’t right.

You looked back up at the staff.

That’s just the anxiety talking, you tried to convince yourself, everything is still going as planned. Just get the damned thing and go help Omega.

You took a deep breath, feeling the anxiety fade away as you slipped into the room.

I got this.

The crates and boxes stacked haphazardly in the dim lighting made it easy to manouver unseen through the treasure room.

“Crazy about those thermal detonators, right!?”

You froze.

“Yeah man,” came the response, and you could’ve collapsed in relief. You’d almost forgotten about the guards that stood just outside the door.

“Think they were just old?” the guard continued, obviously trying to initiate some kind of conversation with his partner.

“I dunno. Maybe.”

They fell silent again for several seconds.

“Ya know, when we grabbed them from that ship it was kinda cool.”

“Yup.”

“Just uhh…you know. You and me.”

“Uh huh.”

“They never pair us together…”

The second guard sighed, “First time for everything.”

“It was fun though,” the one continued before hesistating, “just sayin’, I think we make a pretty good team.”

His partner shifted uncomfortably, “Look man… I’m just trying to do my job here.”

“Yeah, man. Bro. Sorry….”

They shifted into an uncomfortable silence, unaware that you’d snuck past them quite easily as you quickly moved closer to the glass case that held the staff.

The communicator chirped once again and you froze, hoping that the guards were too distacted to notice. You winced at the noise as Omega began to speak quietly through your earpiece.

“Ok, I see them! They’re in a cell together, but there are four guards in here now and the ventilation shaft ends too far away!” She sounded desperate.

“Hey, did you hear that!?” The first guard stood up straight, glancing around.

“Hear what?” His partner sounded exasperated.

“Uhh… nevermind. I thought I heard something.” He paused, “By the way, what do you think about our new armor?”

“Dude, shut up.”

“Right. Yeah. Got a job to do.”

Ducking out of sight, you pressed the communicator up to your lips.

“Get ready,” you hissed, “wait for my signal.”

“Affirmative.”

You assessed the case and the situation in the room. Once the glass was broken, an alarm would probably go off, sending people to your location. That should take care of Omega’s problem.

Then you could take the staff and get back to her quickly.

Peering around the corner once again, you took a deep breath and steadied your heart.

It’s now or never.

Taking a breath, you rammed your elbow into the glass case, and grabbed the staff. The resulting alarm sounded loudly over the compound, buzzing through your eardrums in a painfully electrifying screech.

Both guards spun around.

“What the - !?” You clocked him in the temple with the staff before he could finish and he collapsed onto the floor. The first guard blinked, staring frozen with his mouth slightly ajar.

“If it’s any consolation, I think he likes you back!” you grinned at the man as he slowly moved to press his communicator, still staring back and forth between you and his fallen friend. Flipping the staff around you smacked the device from his hand, giving him a shrug. “Though, I don’t seem to be the best judge of that sort of thing.”

“Wha…?” The butt of the staff slammed against his head before he even had time to contemplate your words and he collapsed unconscious, joining his friend on the floor.

A clang from the floor below told you that Omega had jumped out from the ventilation shaft and the ever nearing pounding of footsteps told you that it was time to go.

Dashing down the stairs, you slid around the corner and slammed the staff into another guard. He spun around, blaster firing wildly as you kicked him in the chest before pulling your own blaster on him, sending him flying into the wall with a smoking hole in his chest.

That beautifully cocky and euphoric feeling of adrenaline coursed through your veins as you ran down the hall where the purple flash of Omega’s bow danced along the walls.

A loud clatter accompanied the pause of energy bolts.

“Hunter!” She screamed, “Help!”

You dashed around the corner. One guard held Omega tightly in his grip while the other one slid her bow away with the butt of an electrostaff.

“Let me go!” She struggled and kicked at him but it seemed to have no effect on the large, armored guard.

“Omega, no!” shouted Hunter as he slammed himself into the bars that held him, only to be forced further back into the cell as the guard hit him in the chest with the electrostaff, sending blue arcs of electricity through his body before Wrecker caught him.

Oh no you don’t.

Rage bubbled through your chest as you burst from the corner. “Hey assholes!”

The first blaster bolt slammed through the chest of the staff wielding guard and the second hit the control panel that released the rest of your team.

Omega cried out as the first guard tossed her into the wall before pulling his own blaster.

“Wrecker get Omega!” Hunter shouted. Fire blazed in his eyes as he pulled his knife from the offending guard’s throat. “Echo, find us a way out of here. Tech, find out where they’ve got our gear!”

Omega stood, rubbing her elbow as she pulled herself to her feet and retrieved her bow. “Your gear’s in the next room over!” She shouted. Hunter gave a firm nod and motioned for Tech and Wrecker to retrieve it.

You grit your teeth as footsteps sounded down the hall. This was NOT how things were supposed to go.

“Hunter,” you shouted impatiently, “I got Cid’s staff but we gotta go!”

He regarded you coolly, lips pulled into a tight line, Adam's apple bobbing up and down as if debating whether or not to respond. The choice was made for him as Wrecker and Tech rushed back with the gear. He turned away sharply and your face fell.

I kriffed up.

Regret tinged with disappointment sank like a stone in your stomach as you clenched your teeth, anger willing away the tears that pricked your eyes, and the growing lump in your throat.

“Hunter, I’ve got a clear route out but we need to move now!” Echo spoke.

“Good. Let’s get out of here.” He all but ripped the staff from your hand as he strode past. “I’ll hold onto this.”

--------------------------------------------------

@zoeykallus @ttzamara @nahoney22 @merkitty49 @viva-la-whump @agenteliix @dumpsters-little-matchbook @nekotaetae @ladykatakuri @loverofclones @heyitsaloy @padawancat97 @jambolska-grozdova @flyingkangaroo @melymigo @the-rain-on-kamino @jiabae @my-own-oracle @dragonrider9905 @queenofspades6 @ordinarylokix @jupitersaturnapollo @queencousland101 @vampire-rogue @southernbaguette @staycalmandhugaclone @dalu-grantkylo @dangraccoon @aconstructofamind @sev-on-kamino @sol-the-otter @pb-jellybeans @atomickidsoul @caitnotfound @ghostlyembassy @skellymom @freesia-writes @trixie2023 @jedipoodoo @reader6898 @all-mights-babygirl @arcsimper5 @red-robin-yum08 @wintersnnowie @whore-of-many-hot-men @theeyesofasoldier @griffedeloup @starswhores @totallyunidentified @waytooldforthis78

If you want to be on my taglist, feel free to send me a message! Also, asks are open! Reblogging is very much encouraged and it makes me do a happy dance every time any of my writing gets reblogged 😂❤️

183 notes · View notes