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fanaticsnail · 1 year ago

Note

i just wanted to say i really liked your garp fic and i was wondering if you were going to do a part 2?

Bonnie Lass (2/2)

Masterlist Here, Part 1 Here.

Word Count: 7,925

Synopsis: You finally meet with the handsome older gentleman at the other end of the den-den-mushi. He promises a night you will both not forget in a hurry - will it live up to that expectation?

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+ You have been warned, smut, p in v sex, oral afab!receiving, bonnie lass - wee bonnie - lass - bonnie gendered terms used, afab! reader, "The Garpening", flirting, supportive boss Mihawk, den-den-mushi calls, both are shameless, age gap, unprotected, creampie.

Notes: This fic was brought to you by a bottle of wine, long chats with @carrotsunshine, @since-im-already-here, @sordidmusings, and @feral-artistry, my incessant need to write for older men, and an overbearing need to know exactly where Garp's appetite leads him.

Apprehensive and Apologetic Tag list: @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @cinnbar-bun @i-love-myself-xd @the-reas0n-is-y0u

The seabreeze whipped through your hair, the gullsong serenading you as Mihawk’s vessel made to dock at the Marine port. You squint your eyes up, staring at the bleached stone walls of the large building that held the promise of good food and pleasurable company. Hanging on the words Vice-Admiral Garp last spoke to you, your body immediately felt compelled to wander forward to exit the ship and gleefully skip towards the mighty doors.

But you knew better.

The presence of your boss, Dracule Mihawk, fell beside you: his bicep brushing with the pointed tip of your shoulders as he physically began rumbling a low growl. He despised attending meetings held by the World Government, meaning he would likely require additional resources to get him through the week you were to remain docked at harbor.

“My lord,” you addressed him, turning your body with a curt nod to him. He hummed in response, unbreaking his eyes away from the headquarters of the world government. With a small exhale of breath, you regained your composure and began relaying his itinerary for the day to him.

“An hour after we dock, your presence is required to partake in a meeting of the warlords of the sea,” you began, elevating your clipboard and scanning the paper pages for the next item on his agenda, “Afterwards, you have a brunch with Boa Hancock and Jinbei - to what end, I was made unaware. After that, you’ll be given your assignment to rid the outer ring of the ‘unruly plague of piracy’ the World Government deems important enough for your skill - likely to be completed over four days of battle, given the numbers,” Your brows furrowed, searching the pages for further information, “Then you are to meet with your tailor, just before your new headshots are to be confirmed by den-den-mushi.”

Mihawk clenched his fists, gritting his teeth as the marines roped his ship into port. The more you spoke, the more agitated he became. Not agitated at you, never agitated with you - he despised these meetings, and hoped that bringing you along would ensure a safe and swift encounter. He always struggled with managing his agendas and itineraries with these encounters, almost electing to bring you along simply for moral support if nothing else.

“And then?” Mihawk spat through his clenched jaw, fists balling at his sides.

“And then,” you confirmed, placing your clipboard under your arm and smiling up at your boss, “You have been booked into an onsen for a private spa, a massage and hot stone session in the hamam, and,” you stepped further towards Mihawk, adjusting his overcoat and soothing over his shoulders to rid the material of fray, “After that, I have sent a bottle of Rosso, and asked for for the next book in that romance series you have been indulging in to be awaiting you in your personal suite.”

Mihawk exhaled a sigh of relief, clapping a hand over your shoulder in a gesture of appreciation. You smiled up at your boss, nodding at him to affirm your notion of providing his relief. You turned away, bringing your attention back up to the top of the building, and focussed your pointed gaze at the silhouette glaring over the balcony of the highest point.

“And while I am distracted by a good book and a bottle of wine,” Mihawk’s taunting purr cracked into your ear, “Where will you be, my dear?” You drew a sheepish grin up to your lips, a faint flush igniting your cheeks

Mihawk leant down into your ear, his breath tingling and hot against your flesh as he uttered his warning into your ear.

“Wined and dined by an old man?” he taunted down, his smirk visibly present in his tone, “Keeping me at bay while you enjoy a few stiff drinks, before being railed by something else stiff-.”

“Lord Dracule Mihawk!” you scolded him, turning to join your ignited gaze against his playful, honey-colored orbs, “I am first and foremost your assistant.” Mihawk’s lips twitched at the corners, indicating his amusement as close to a smile as he would ever publicly display. You huffed out your breath, shaking your head while adding, “I have never met him in person, and he is yet to extend a formal invitation to join him for dinner. I will be busy all day tending to your affairs, as I always am, Sir.” His amusement never lessened, only growing on his lips with another twitch.

“And after the day of your duties?” Mihawk’s brow twitched in interest, “What then?”

“What then,” you shoved your index finger into his chest, scraping it up to tap the tip of his nose, “Is that I will be tucked safely within my bedsheets after a long bath and a hot meal. I am here to serve you, sir. I am your assistant, and I am a damn good one.”

“That you are, dear,” he confirmed, placing his other hand on your shoulder, holding you in place, “Which is why, after today, I have given you three days paid shore leave.” Your stunned silence only propelled him on further to add, “Buy yourself a new pretty dress, and enjoy the sights,” he leant forward with a small wink, his darkened lashes kissing against the waterline to hide his brilliant amber eyes briefly, “And then, get the old man to roar your name in the thralls of joint ecstacy. By my orders, dear. You have earnt it.”

The warm rise of warmth held against the apples of your cheeks all day, constantly repeating Mihawk’s comments in a circular swirl within your mind. From the moment your temporary office was welcomed by a pink-haired cadet, to filling in a variety of paperwork, to taking various den-den-mushi calls, to clocking out for the day - the flushed heat held firm against your cheeks.

No whisper of a word, nor scroll of a calligraphed note, graced your temporary office with its presence. You honestly thought you had been forgotten, neglected in the knowledge that you had journeyed long beside Dracule Mihawk to be within close proximity to the man who held your undivided attention every day for the past year.

Just as you were packing away your desk for the day, the den-den-mushi began to roar to life on your wooden countertop. The reverberation of its guttural grunts and gurgles had you satiating its tone by answering the call.

“Lord Dracule Mihawk’s den-den-mushi. State your intentions, and make it quick-,” you growled, your professional tone wavering in agitation due to the proximity of your shift ending.

“-Oh, sweet bonnie lass. I dinnae mean t’keep ‘ye waitin’,” the soothing drawl of Vice-Admiral Garp purred through the transponder. You huffed out an exasperated breath, your brows furrowing further against your forehead as you navigated through your swelling mind.

“Vice-Admiral,” your warning tone cut through the air, halting all further conversation with a concluding utterance of, “My office hours have concluded for the day. Should you desire to reach Dracule Mihawk for any need, you may try again at-.” Your words were stolen from you by Garp’s tone cutting through them like a knife through hot butter.

“-Please, lass,” his plea cracked through the den-den-mushi, holding you hostage to his words, “Please dannae brush me aside. I have been in meetin’s all day, and I have been trying to claw my way to you from the wee hours of the morn, to the quiet moments of the noon.” You rotated your neck, relieving tension found within the tight bands of your muscles.

“Vice-Admiral,” you began, interrupted once again by his rumbling brogue growling through the mouthpiece of the den-den-mushi, “I have had a long journey at sea. My only welcome being more work at the bequest of my employer. I do not have time to entertain you over the transponder today. If you desire to speak further, you can try again tomorrow, Vice-Admiral-.”

“-Garp, lass. It’s Garp, please,” his breathy voice gasped through the speaker, “I’ll make it up to you, I swear. I should’ve been down by the docks waiting - up to my knees in sea water to reign your ship in with my bare hands.” You hummed at the thought: a high and mighty Vice-Admiral of the marines lowering himself to the duties of a simple cadet at the chance of meeting his eyes with your own in person.

You took a moment's pause, contemplating his words and mulling the thought of him demonstrating his strength and stamina to you while shepherding Mihawk’s ship into port. Did he have old navy tattoos on his biceps? Did his advanced age hinder his ability to perform such a task? Gathering he was the one who suggested such a notion, and him being a man of high honor, you gathered he would be up to such a muscle burning task.

“Alright, Garp,” you hummed into the transponder, leaning back into the transponder and purring through your vocal challenge, “Make it up to me.”

A shuddered groan sparked through the mouthpiece, your own giddy joy elevating in your chest and igniting your body with soft tingles. If he had this much sway over you with just a small growl of his voice, you were unsure of where the next few moments were to bring you.

“Meet me at the docks in two hours, Bonnie Lass,” his tone was hushed enough to draw you in closer, your ears pricking to catch every syllable granted to you, “And I’ll treat you to a night you willnae forget in a hurry.” Your broad grin split your face, a small squeak of joy threatening to escape your lips with a soft hum.

“And how should you like me, Garp?” you asked him, your taunting purr calling further into the receiver end, “Should I prepare my wardrobe for an outdoor activity,” you questioned, your foot tapping lightly within the air while hooking over your knee, “Or should I just throw a coat over some lingerie and call it a night?”

Several cracking objects bent and broke, echoing throughout the den-den-mushi transponder; something akin to wood snapping and nails tearing through mahogany. You rewarded such a sound with a melodic giggle, only producing more creaking wood noises in consequence.

“Wear something dainty for me,” a low rumbled growl purred at you, “What you choose to wear under it is your prerogative.”

“Aye, Sir,” you confirmed with a curt nod, “Two hours, and I’ll be all yours.”

“All mine,” his low drawl parroted back to you, the giddy chirp of his voice endearing in your ears. At the click of the receiver, you sprung immediately into action and hurried out of the office doors.

You bid a cheery farewell to the cadets loitering in the hallway, thanking them for arranging your office, before leaving the washed-stone building of the World Government headquarters. Your smile never left your lips, the promise of meeting the man who held your romantic affections weighing heavily on your mind and fluttering harshly within the pit of your stomach.

While bathing, cleansing your skin and hair, and ensuring every part of you was styled and scented with the sweet and sultry persona you had presented yourself to be, your thoughts turned to pondering unspoken questions. Will he enjoy the way you present yourself? Will he behave like the perfect gentleman? How should you act: the way you shamelessly speak over the den-den-mushi, or poised like a lady? Would he like this particular color on you, or on the floor beside you?

You shook your head to rid them of the spiraling doubts, soothing over your tight dress and hooking your coat over your forearm while exiting the suite you had organized for yourself. Clicking and locking your door behind you, your eyes briefly met with Mihawks: a book tucked under his arm and wine bottle within his grasp, twirling the cork with his screw and filling his wine glass in the window. He shot you a knowing look, mouthing the words: “make him roar.”

Your cheeks flooded with the heat of scorched oil, flash point igniting in your eyes at the final utterance of support from your boss. Shaking your head, you made your way briskly to the docks. The dimly lit lamplight illuminated your path, the click of your heels tapping lightly on the solid sandstone pathway. The flap of gulls wings shepherded your final steps atop the docks, your eyes meeting with a truly unique sight you were not expecting in the least.

In the middle of the pier stood a highly decorated marine, silver hair backlit by the radiance of the moon and standing with his wrists clenched behind his back. His beard was neatly cropped, his eyes fixed on your approach, his lips exhaling a shaky breath he prayed you didn’t notice. As your feet carried your body closer, you halted a few feet away from him, tilting your chin and pursing your lips playfully up at him.

“Vice-Admiral,” you purred up at him seductively, your eyes wide and innocent to contradict your expression.

“Bonnie-Lass,” he gruffly commented in response, a smile painted brilliantly on his lips. A delightful shudder flew up your spine at his undistorted voice finally meeting with you. You flit your eyes hastily over him, examining his stature inquisitively - a gesture he returned with gusto, eyes hovering over your meticulously cared and styled hair and outfit.

“May I invite ‘ye aboard, lass?” Garp’s softness in his tone pulled you in, his arms waving behind him to gesture towards his impressive ship, “I ‘kin understand if being on a ship again after so much time on the water might no’ agree with ‘ye-.”

“-I would love to see your ship, Captain,” you remarked gleefully, stepping past his arms and following his gesture to the broadwalk, “I adore sea travel, and enjoy the rocking of the waves. I find it comforting.”

As you stepped past, your intoxicating radiance graced Garp with the aroma of your sweet perfume. The way your presence called him immediately to follow you, his feet falling in tow with your every step, was not something he ever accounted for.

The moment your voice picked up the receiver of the den-den-mushi, Garp’s sour mood was immediately stifled under your comforting tone. The first time he called Castle Kuraigana to relay orders to the broody warlord of the sea, he was ill-prepared to be met with a tone so honey-sweet and kind. He was immediately smitten, often calling the castle with any excuse he could muster to hear more of your sweetness pouring onto him through the speaker of his den-den-mushi.

But now you were here in person, Garp truly had no idea how to handle you. He did not know if you would allow him the luxury of holding you against himself in a warm and welcoming embrace. He did not desire to lean down and claim your lips with a kiss, only to be met with a turn of your cheek and an utterance of, “You’re too old for me,” falling from your lips. He truly did not know what to expect from you, and the unspoken anxiety was eating at his stomach and clouding his mind.

“Garp?” you called over to him, halting your advance onto his ship and turning to face him, “Are you going to guide me along your vessel, or am I to find my own way without you?” Garp snapped his eyes to meet with yours, his winding thoughts pausing as he bore his intense gaze into you.

“Although I do enjoy exploring new areas, I would prefer to be ushered in with the pleasure of your company,” you continued, a coy smile springing to your features, “After all the promises you made to me of the many months we’d been speaking,” you took a step back, falling closer to his larger body, “I would prefer you to keep your word.”

“And which word might that be, lass?” his gruff whisper crooned down at you, his eyes half-lidded and lips parted in desperation, “I had promised ‘ye an array of mischief, if ‘me old mind serves correct.”

“Considering I’ll be on, I’m assuming, this ship for the next few days while Mihawk completes his assignment,” you contemplated, darting your focus between his two eyes, “Would you show me to my quarters so I may send for my belongings to arrive on the morrow?”

“All work an’ no play, lass?'' he huffed a small laugh down at you, “An’ here I thought you’d want something more playful the first time we met in person, or perhaps something a little more-...” His thoughts trailed off, his tone almost disappointed at your formal conversation. He took it as his first rejection from you, opting to not push his expectation and desires onto you should it make you uncomfortable.

You exhaled through your nose, your smile not leaving your lips as you shook your head at him. As Garp allowed his spiraling thoughts to plague his mind, fully trapped within his misguided notion you had rejected his flirtatious advances, he didn’t feel the grip of your fingers around his teal tie until his body was thrust forward by the strength of your forearm.

Drawing all of the power you could muster, alongside the courage you felt you needed to complete such a feat, you claimed the lips of the decorated Vice-Admiral of the marines beneath your own. You set a bruising pace, turning your head and standing yourself up on the tips of your toes to reach more of him. Your other hand found his broad chest, dropping your coat to the floor while fisting the material of his outer coat beneath your palm and cradling him closer to yourself.

Stepping backwards onto the ship, you ushered his hulking body aboard while unbreaking from the passionate embrace. As your knees knocked with a hard benchtop behind you, you ushered the larger man to turn, forcing his body down to sit himself down on the bench. You opened your mouth, your tongue raking against his bottom lip.

A groan fled from his lips, Garp’s needy hands grasping at your flesh over the material of your dress. Fistfulls of the material was claimed within Garp’s hands, the hemline of the material being shimmied up your thighs to grant more of your flesh to be exposed to him. He opened his mouth, allowing you to seek out his tongue to brush against your own with expert and practiced precision.

As the material continued to ride up your body, you hooked your knees either side of his broad thighs and straddled his waist. The split side of your dress strained beneath the grasps of Garp’s hands, stretching the material harshly before your ears pricked at the harsh ‘rip’. You squeaked in Garps mouth, drawing your lips away from his with a frown.

“You tore my dress!” you exclaimed, your accusatory reprimand mixing with a hidden smile beneath your frown, “It was my favorite!” Garp paid your chastising tone no mind, peppering your neck with several, open-mouthed kisses.

“I’ll buy ‘ye twelve more,” he gasped, nipping and sucking at the exposed flesh of your neck, “All the colors you desire,” he raked his teeth against your jaw, “All the patterns in the world.” You keened a small moan into the air when he found a sensitive piece of flesh between your throat and your pulse.

His hand dipped between the material of your dress, raking his fingertips over your thigh to hold your hip only to pause while held in complete shock.

“You’re ‘nae wearing anythin’ beneath this dress, bonnie lass,” he growled against your jaw, his teeth catching on the bone and clamping over your soft skin.

“You said it was my prerogative,” you gasped, turning your head to seek out his lips with your own, “Why do you think I wanted you to show me to my quarters, Sir?” You pressed a long and heavy kiss against his lips before tearing yourself away once more. “But it seemed as if you couldn't handle the uncertainty for a moment longer,” you kissed his whiskered cheek, “So I am improvising.”

Garp immediately responded by raking his broad hands beneath your bare ass, barely covered by the material of your dress, hoisting you into the air and marching you throughout the corridors with heavy and intentional steps. You giggled at him, weaving your hands over his shoulders and massaging his scalp with your fingertips, and nuzzling down into his neck. You inhaled deeply, committing his cologne to memory while nipping and sucking on his exposed flesh close to his collar.

“It’s against protocol to leave visible marks above my uniform,” Garp growled, leaning his head back and exposing more of his skin to you, “If you litter my skin with any bites, I’ll see to ‘ye punishment personally.” In response to your rough, peppered kisses along his neck and bearded jaw, Garp slapped his hand on your right ass cheek before kneading it within his fingers and palm.

“I am no marine, Garp,” you confessed, wrapping your lips around his pulse and sucking at the skin with fervor, “And I’d like to see you try.”

“Y’ell do as ‘yer bloody told, lass,” he growled, leaning away from your lips. As his eyes met with yours, he squeezed the flesh of your ass with a warning pinch. You squeaked in delight, Garp’s hearty laughter pleasantly echoing within your ears.

“I’ll do as I bloody please, Garp,” you taunted in return, biting a crescent shaped mark against his pulse, soothing over the mark with your lips and tongue. You sucked at the mark, hearing a hitch in his breath as he continued to lead you towards the guest suites.

Tearing your lips away, you hummed at the heart-shaped mark you pressed into his skin. It was a medal of lust, visible to all who see it - and see it, they will. Garp’s pulse was elevated further, his passionate advances leading him on with heavy and intentional steps. His boot heel kicked in the door to cabin quarters, your anticipation only growing as Garp lowered you onto the freshly made bed.

Your back hit the plush mattress, your hair sprawling out on the sheets as he lowered his head against your neck. He pressed a few intentional kisses against your exposed flesh, his hands desperately raking over your chest to knead your breasts slowly and sensually. You sucked in a soft groan, your brows furrowing up as his thumb and index finger rolled over your puckered nipples. At your small gasp, he took it as encouragement to continue stimulating your breasts with his left hand, as his right rose the hemline of your dress over your hip.

Hastily, you shot your hands forward, fumbling over the buckle of his belt to rid it of its hold on his pants. Just as quickly, Vice-Admiral Garp surged forward: claiming both of your wrists within his circular grip to halt your advance. You furrowed your brows as he pinned your wrists beside your head, your wide eyes meeting with his mischievous grin.

“What are you-,” you began, silenced by a heavy and open-mouthed kiss pressed against your lips, claiming you beneath him with rough bites and soothing caresses. He groaned against your lips, leading your hands with his to wrap around his shoulders and weave into his hair once more within your fingertips.

“Let me taste ‘ye first, bonnie,” he growled against your sensitive skin, You gasped a sigh of affirmation, nodding against his smiling lips, “Let me make it up to ‘ye for ‘me surliness earlier. Please let me have ‘ye like this.”

Trailing open mouthed kisses down your neck, halting briefly at your breasts before trailing down your stomach; Vice-Admiral Monkey D. Garp made his intentions incredibly clear to you as he shimmied the line of your dress higher over your body.

“Let me show ‘ye how much I’ve been craving the sweet call of my name from those pretty lips o’ yours,” Hooking your knees over his shoulders, he scraped his bearded chin over the sensitive inner flesh of your thighs before grazing his lips over the top of your core, “I’ll have ‘ye cryin’ and whimperin’ for me before ‘ye even see my cock.”

He tested your sensitive flesh: flicking the tip of his tongue out to brush against your swollen clit. Immediately, your back arched up and a soft cry flew from your lips before you could stop it. Garp chuckled, looking as your pulsating core was welcoming more of his touches, giving away your arousal with a pool of your sweet essence pouring from your contracting entrance.

“You are so beautiful, bonnie lass,” he pressed a sweet kiss against the top of your groin, his smile felt against your flesh, “And ‘ye finally all mine.” After allowing another chuckle to fall from his lips, he advanced forwards and skillfully licked a clean and expert stripe along your glistening walls.

Vice-Admiral Garp was known for many things: His brutality in war, his aggression while training cadets, his calculated advances on the battlefield, his impossible strength, and his insatiable appetite. This appetite was now displayed to you as he hungrily and desperately lapped at your core like a man on death row, consuming his last meal while awaiting execution. The balance between savoring the flavor while horking down like a man starving had your eyes rolling back and hands fisting at his cropped hair to hold on tightly.

“O-Oh fuck,” you cried, your eyes now tightly clamped shut as you relished in his skilled ministrations. The roll of his tongue, the mouthing of his hungry lips, had you physically quaking against his face.

“Shakin’ like a leaf, lass,” he taunted, nuzzling into your aching core, “‘ye want ‘te see what else I ‘kin do?” Your toes curled as he prodded your entrance with his tongue, his nose circling your clit and spreading your arousal throughout your core. Skillfully thrusting his tongue in and out of your desperate and delicate slit, you felt as if you were going to explode in ecstasy the moment he began vibrating his tongue with a deep, rumbling groan.

“G-Garp. I-I don’t know if I-I can-... hnnng-... I c-can’t last m-....mmmn-... m-much longer,” you cried, your thighs clenching on his neck and shoulders to hold him in place. Your body reacted against your will, arching your back off the mattress while desperately riding his face. You felt the band winding tighter in your abdomen, each area of your body desperately shooting sparks, teetering on the edge of unravel.

Two firm hands clapped over your thighs: one holding down your stomach and pinning you against the bed, the other kneading over your thigh. Garp pulled his face away from your needy cunt, hovering his hot breath and breathing puffs of cool air over your hole. You whimpered in desperation, wriggling against his wide-spread fingers to get any stimulus to conclude your high.

“W-Why-,” you cried, a slap on your bare ass halting your words and having you throw your head against the pillow.

“-Because I warned ‘ye nae t’ leave a mark on ‘me body. It’s against protocol, lass,” he chuckled, his whiskered chin scraping over your thigh as his smiling lips pressed a kiss against the outer corner of your crotch. You growled, leaning up on your elbows, staring into his eyes with a dark agitation.

“And after all those promises of making it up to me?” you spat, your nose scrunching, lips pursing and brow furrowing. Garp rose from his low position against your exposed flesh, a foreign desperation depicted in his wide eyes.

“Were they all empty words?” you uttered. You knew, for a fact, that Vice-Admiral Garp was mad for you, but that only made you want to taunt him more, “All an act to get me to open my legs, just to leave me disappointed like the rest of them?” A stuttered gasp flew from his lips as he crawled up the bed, weaving his clothed torso through your legs to meet at eye level once again. In turn, you shimmied your body away from him, turning your face away in an attempt to hide your smile.

You knew how desperately he wanted you. The moment your lips collided with his above deck, you felt just how much he absolutely adored you. Considering he held you on the edge of ecstasy, only to pull away from you as you were about to unravel , you decided it would be more entertaining to watch him grovel for you.

“Perhaps you were only interested in leaving a sour taste, teasing me with your pretty brogue and taunting me with your dream-like promises,” you continued, lips pouting and brows triangulating up in the center of your forehead. Garp staggered in his movement, his hands reaching out in an attempt to grasp yours, only met with you pulling away.

“L-Lass, I didnae mean t-,” he began, halted by your melancholy sigh in an attempt to stifle a rising giggle in your chest.

“-You said I’d beg and plead for your hands and lips to be in a few key places, if I recall correctly,” you pouted, playing into your role, “How disappointing, only having me beg and writhe beneath you to pull away at the crescendo.”

“P-Please, lass. I’m sorry. I am a cruel, cruel man,” he confessed, claiming your left hand within his right and peppering the flesh with a flurry of kisses, “What can I do t’make it up to ‘ye, ‘me bonnie lass. Tell me,” he trailed his kisses up higher, halting at the inner flesh of your elbow, “Order me, dictate me,” he continued spreading kisses up to your shoulder, soothing over your scorching flesh, “I beg ‘ye to reconsider your withdrawal. I am ‘ye humble servant, wee bonnie.”

Your smile broke through your pouting expression, your head snapping over to meet with his. His eyes were wide and frantic, desperate to know he had not lost you by enacting his cruel punishment.

“Off the bed,” you ordered him, a twinkle of mischief sparking to light in your surly expression, “And strip yourself, slowly.”

“Aye, bonnie lass,” he stumbled over his words, immediately staggering backwards and falling to the side of the bed. He began unbuttoning his overcoat and shaking it from his shoulders hurriedly, prompting a giggle to break through your practiced character.

“I said slowly, Garp,” you purred at him, sitting up and moving your left calf along your right, “I thought you would be good at following orders, considering your title as a marine.” He halted his hasty undress, opting to silently follow your orders by unhooking the clasps of his belt and unbuttoning his pants. As the hem lay limply on his hips, he slowly popped each button of his shirt and raked his index finger along his torso to separate the fabric.

Shamelessly following each movement with a bite of your bottom lip, you reclined on your side and encouraged him to continue with your sultry and beckoning eyes. His heart fluttered, feeling so small beneath your predatory gaze. After speaking with you for so long over den-den-mushi, and desperately seeking your approval with his choice words, he was certain he knew what to expect when he met with you.

He had never been so pleased to be proven wrong in his life.

As he released the final button of his shirt, you clicked your tongue at him and pointed your index finger at the teal sash decorating his neck.

“The tie stays on,” you spoke through narrowed eyes, testing his resolve to follow your orders. He huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head as he peeled his shirt away from his skin - leaving the teal tie around his neck. He shimmied off the fabric before hooking his thumbs through his belt hoops, slowly pulling the material over his hips and down his muscular thighs.

Hungrily and awestruck, you followed each taut flex of his impressive muscles: his forearms, his biceps, his shoulders, his pectorals, his abs, his thighs - nothing was hidden from your eyes as he continued to slowly undress himself before you. His head-shot from the World Government truly did not do him justice - a man dignified and refined, muscular and carved from slated marble. He was a sight to behold, and was anxious to receive your approval at each passing moment.

Stepping away from his pants, Vice-Admiral Garp was standing before you in naught but his teal tie and tight undershorts. The growing pole to tent the center of his trousers had your mouth watering beneath your stoic and sultry expression: keeping your hand close to your chest to not reveal your desperation for him.

“Does this please you, lass?” he whispered below his breath, the corner of his mouth ticking with his melancholy expression, “An old man far from his prime, humbling himself before the delicate flower of Kuraigana. Is this all ‘ye dreamed of?” His small sigh caught your ear, prompting your brows to furrow in deep thought. His eyes were focussed on the floor, unable and unwilling to tear them away to meet with your exploratory eyes.

Vice-Admiral Garp was self conscious. He found himself unworthy to be at the receiving end of your interest, a fact that had become clearer and clearer the more the night flew on.

“Take off your undershorts, Garp,” you ordered him, slowly rising to your knees on the mattress, “And lie back on the bed.” You witnessed as his cock twitched beneath his pants, a growl purring in the chasms of his chest as he hooked his thumbs around the hemline of his undergarments.

Slowly shimmying down the elastic, his impressive cock sprang above the surface, slapping his abdomen with his shining mushroom tip on his belly. The slit was dripping with precum, the veins throbbing with anticipation while he bashfully lay his back down on the mattress. His cock stood to attention, knob throbbing while his shaft was hoisted in the air. He was neatly cropped, every follicle of his happy trail meticulously maintained down his stomach.

Without much warning, you eagerly straddled his waist with a giggle of joy. A gasp of shock fled from his lips, followed by a huff of laughter as you eagerly threw your dress off your body and looked down at his reclined form. There was a hidden uncertainty within his eyes, a hopeful sheen sucking you within his orbs each moment you gazed into them.

“Now what, lass?” he questioned you, eyes searching yours as he reached up his palm to cradle your cheek, “You’ve got me pinned and helpless beneath your thighs. Does this please you? D-Do I-...” his voice trailed off, remaining uncertain as his eyes sought out deeper, unspoken desires within your own, “...-Do I please you?”

You sighed, flipping your hair over your shoulder and looking down at him through half-hooded eyelashes. Your soft smile drew up over your features, a secret and hidden kiss’ shadow rising within the right-hand corner of your mouth - a place that immediately held Garp rendered defeated under your beautiful features.

What began as mild lust had blossomed and flourished into something more sacred. Garp was indeed smitten with you, desperately wanting to both treat and tease you, but now that he had you - he was clawing at being a worthy partner for you to couple with. He knew you were beautiful, he knew you were intelligent, he knew you were wise - but he did not expect, upon meeting you in person, to be rendered helpless upon seeking your approval.

Wordlessly, you sought out the tip of his glistening cock with your needy hole, slowly circling the knob without welcoming him fully into your walls. He gasped at the contact, surging forward to grasp at your thighs over his waist. Your arousal coated his tip, painting it with your own lust and propelling his sinful desires on further.

“You’ll please me by letting me ride your thick cock until you can’t take it anymore,” you purred down at him, angling your lips to almost brush against his own, “You’ll please me by splitting me open and filling me up with every inch you’re willing to give me. You’ll please me-...” you leaned your torso down, your breasts brushing with his pectorals, nipples circling his own in a sultry dance as you hovered over his cock, “...-By allowing me the luxury of cumming on your cock, my pussy milking you of your thick load and splashing back onto your cock once it meets with my cervix.”

Garp held his breath, furrowing his brows as he felt you inch down to claim his shined knob within your entrance. He focussed on the hitch of your breath, the swell of your heart rate, and the small whimper in your voice. He focussed on the twitch of your closed eyes and your parted lips as you sank further along his shaft.

Although his appetite was insatiable, he would never rush you in adjusting to his girth and length. He relished in every stretch your walls made to accommodate his impressive size, focussing on how your brows knit together and breath hitched at every small move. He tried to hold back the twitch of his desperate cock, trying not to lose himself within the feeling of your cunt fluttering to adjust for his cock to fully sheathe itself within you.

As the hilt of your crotch met with his, his cock disappearing within your fluttering cunt up to the brim, he finally allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief at being sheathed completely within you. Grinding yourself down, you suppress a strangled moan within your throat as you feel your walls adjust and accommodate to his impressive size. Testing a small movement, you inched yourself upwards and slunk down against his shaft - a sigh mirrored within Garp’s lips as he restrained himself from fucking up into you.

You began to slowly rake your walls up, before slamming your body back down against his groin: mutual cries of bliss falling from each other's lips as you focussed on riding his cock. You hastily drew up speed, setting a rhythm that had his hips rolling beneath your own. Your mewling cries of his name were rising into the air each time you felt his knob touch the edge of your cervix.

His hands gripped firmly against your thighs, ushering you to bob, grind and gyrate against his cock to chase your own ecstasy. Your clit brushed with the small tuft of hair remaining at the base of his shaft, stimulating the small bud each time you drew yourself down to his crotch.

He stared up in disbelief at the way your body responded to him. He was mesmerized at each whimper of your voice, each flutter of your eyelashes, and each slam of your aching cunt welcoming his throbbing cock within his walls. He couldn’t get enough: you were intoxicating and addictive with each writhe against him.

Your rhythm began to get more stuttered, your body responding to the elevation of your ecstasy. Your walls began to thump against him, wringing his cock and clamping down on it as your approaching orgasm began to shudder against his shaft. His breath hitched, his own brow furrowing as he felt every pulse within your walls ushering him into his own bliss.

As you continued to grind against him, Garp struggled to hold back against his own desires of flipping you over and stapling his hips against your own by railing your body into the plush mattress below. He did not want to destroy his good standing with you by completing such a lewd act, reacting in penance from drawing himself away from cumming into his awaiting lips, and simply chose to take each moment you gave him as a gift.

The flutter of your cunt began squeezing his shaft, the sensitive spongy underside of your clit meeting with his knob propelling you further in the release of your incoming ecstasy. Your whimpers and cries of his name falling freely from your lips had both Garp’s cock and heart swell in pride that his body was granting you such bliss.

“G-Garp, I-I’m gonna-...” you called, clenching your eyes shut as you continued to gyrate and grind down against his cock.

Garp’s iron will snapped, immediately hooking his arms around your waist and tackling you against the bedsheets. He caged you beneath him, plowing greedily into your shuddering walls with an eager snap of his hips. You shrieked in shock, your ecstasy being ushered in further by Garp stampeding you both towards your ends with a heavier and more controlled rhythm.

Each heavy rake of his cock within your cunt had his balls slapping against your puckered ass. At this new angle, you cried out, desperately clawing at his back and shoulders to draw him in closer to you.

He hoisted your knee over his hip, latching his lips onto your neck and sucking a deep, angry, mark into your porcelain flesh. You cried for him, every ounce of your flesh ignited by the sparks of untamed ecstasy as you thrust your hips upwards to meet with every sharp snap of his rhythmic hips.

“Cum for me,” he purred at you in a gruff growl, “Cry out my name.” His rhythm began to weigh heavier with each deep thrust, heavier and heavier with every staggered slam of his hips. “I want the entire base t’ know I’m makin’ ‘ye feel good. Want ‘ye fookin’ boss t’ know you’re becoming unraveled by my thick cock, ‘me bonnie lass.”

At the mention of your boss: Mihawk’s verbal warning of having Garp cry your name in bliss echoed back to you. In a final ditch effort of having Garp cry out for you, you latched your lips onto the mark you created a few hours prior and teased the flesh with your teeth and tongue. Garp knit his brows, growling through yelping barks below his breath at how truly good you made him feel.

“O-Ohh f-fuck, Garp. I-I’m-... ahh-... I’m c-cumming,,” you called, clawing and gnawing at his flesh like a lifeline anchoring you to the earth. He sucked in a breath feeling the twitch of his end spurting the first few moments of his orgasm within your walls. As much as he desired to pull away from your eager cunt to not risk his seed finding purchase within your walls - he simply could not help himself. He immediately began plowing harsher into you, his cock spurting his cum within you like a valve turning to release hisses of pent-up pressure.

His voice became elevated with each staggered thrust, each subtle whimpered cry of his name coinciding with you grinding and writhing beneath him to chase your mutual highs. At one final bite of his flesh, and a particularly harsh snap of his hips, the two of you began experiencing the first realms of joint ecstasy.

“F-Fuck bonnie lass, I cannae pull out,” he roared your name, gyrating and pumping his seed deep within your cunt: splashing back spurts of his load within your needy, throbbing cunt.

“D-Don’t you dare t-try,” you scolded him, eyes rolling back in bliss as he chased his orgasm within you. The walls of your pussy began contracting against his thick cock, shepherding him into releasing hot ropes of sticky cum within your eager walls. For every thump of your walls, you were granted by a spurt of his release within them - milking him of every fiber of his essence.

As you both rode through your highs, the hums of your voices and gasps of your breath caught up with you. He snapped his hips forward, remaining sheathed within your glistening walls, as he raked his fingers through your hair. Your strands stuck against your forehead, your pupils blown with lust as you gulped back another cry of ecstasy as his cock throbbed within you. You sobbed, hiding your forehead against his chest as you attempted to come down from your high.

Taking a moment to each gulp in oxygen to fill your lungs, Garp rolled from caging you beneath him, unsheathing his cock from within your pussy slowly. He looked down at your entrance, watching as it clenched to chase his retreat from your body with an eagerness he was yet to witness in some time. You were a masterpiece, a body unraveled and glistening within the realms of the afterglow in unbridled lust. He adored you.

“You alrigh’, lass?” he asked you quietly, his lips grazing your temple as your lungs refilled with oxygen. You smiled up at him, eyes closing while your body chased his lips to feel his wired whiskers against your skin longer. You hummed at him, rolling over to your side and grazing his chest with your open hands.

“Never better, Garp,” you cooed back at him, feeling your energy supply depleting the longer you remained comfortably within his arms. He cradled you against himself, feeling the soft song of slumber calling to him each moment you remained nestled against him.

“And what of t’morrow?” Garp asked, his brow cocking up at the corner while he fought to keep his eyes open, “‘Ye got duties to attend, I’m sure.”

“Dracule Mihawk has allowed me the luxury of a few days' shore leave,” you confessed, sleepily, “I don’t think I’ll be returning to my station any time soon, Vice-Admiral-.”

“-Garp, bonnie lass. It’s Garp, remember?” he cooed down at you, shimmying his body down to locate the plush duvet and nestling you both beneath it, “When you’re with me, it’s always Garp.”

“Alright, Garp,” you purred up at him, eyes hooded and feeling serenaded by sleep, “Will you stay by me tonight? Show me you still want me in the morning?” He huffed out a breath of disbelief, cradling you further against his chest and pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead.

“Rest assured, Bonnie Lass,” the rumbling drawl of his voice cooed down at you, his fingers brushing over your hair and smoothing over each strand, “I will still want you every morning.”

Both of your warm smiles clung to your cheeks as you fell into the arms of sleep, feeling calm and at peace while clinging to one another. You had never been so pleased to be relieved of duty, your legs and body remaining blissfully numb by being plowed into by Garp’s throbbing cock.

An apology for his rough actions came in the form of caging your hips against his face, his arms weaving over your thighs, and him welcoming you to ride his head until your voice grew hoarse from the sheer number of times he had you cry his name on his eager tongue. Enthusiastically lapping at your glistening cunt with the fervor of a man being granted the feast of a lifetime, he refused to part his lips from your glistening walls until you violently shook with a scream of his name.

When riding down your high and sobbing through your ecstasy, you looked down at his eager eyes: twinkling with mischief. Upon meeting his gaze, he kissed your thigh and cooed up at you: “Just one more? One last time before I let you go, ‘me wee bonnie lass?” for the fifth time that morning. After all, his appetite truly was insatiable.

#one piece #x reader #opla #opla fic #one piece live action #monkey d garp #garp x reader #monkey d garp x reader #mihawk #platonic mihawk #mihawk's assistant #garp is a menace #monkey d garp smut #op smut #op x reader smut #garp smut #op garp #age gap kink

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darkhymns-fic · 4 years ago

Text

D3ATH 0F A $SALESMAN$ [[RE: 1997 edition]] (Ch.1)

"here's a joke for ya. two salesman walk into a bar. except it's not a bar, it's a shady car dealership. except it's not that either. in fact, i have no idea where we are." Sans faced the tiny puppet man, held up by so many strings. "care to fill me in, buddy?"

A story on how two smiling salesmen should have never met.

Fandom: Deltarune Characters: Sans, Spamton, Toriel, Susie, W.D. Gaster Rating: G Chapters: 1/?? Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: Warning for heavy Deltarune spoilers in this fic, for both routes. This is also a WIP with additional chapters forthcoming. I mainly wanted to write about my two favorite characters and this is what came out of it. Next Chapter

Sans' phone was acting up lately.

Few things from it could catch his attention for long except for a funny dog video or two, but as he peeked at it from his pocket, he couldn’t help noting a pattern.

Huh. Those emails again…

“Hello? Hello mister? I can’t reach the shopping baskets, I have no arms.”

“oh hey.” Sans blinked away from the union-regulated break to turn back towards the checkout counter (his own union actually, since he was the only worker in this store. Also, there was no union). “just stack what you need on your head. problem solved.”

The monster kid before him was definitely bereft of any arms, but they luckily had a head, all things considered. Now if they were both a headless and armless monster, then he’d have a real predicament on his hands. Phew, dodged that bullet.

The kid was awkwardly standing before him, squinting their eyes up at Sans, which was a bit unusual since most monsters and humans were taller than him. And most kids. A lot of kids actually. Not this one though.

But then again, no one was taller than the tower of shopping baskets off in the corner. Every time Sans looked there, he felt a tear coming to his eye. Except he was a skeleton so he couldn’t really do that.

“But I need to buy some milk and eggs! And a whole lot of car magazines…” The kid was hopping up and down, trying to reach their face past the counter just enough. “I can’t carry all that on my head!”

His phone vibrated again. His eyes shifted, but he always made sure to keep on his smile for the customer. Union rules and all.

“here, kid. lemme show you a professional’s trick to stacking, very behind-the-scenes so to speak. ya ready?”

After the armless monster kid was able to balance a dozen egg cartons plus one gallon of fat-free milk out the door, Sans took his regulated 8th break for the day, leaning back while still standing since, of course, chairs were not allowed on the job (again, union rules) and checked his phone.

RE: ENDSTONIGHT!! ACTIVATE YOUR KR0MER CASHBACK

Handpicked Heartwarming Stories of Salesman That Will Make You Bring Out the Tissues

DID Y0U F0RGET??? REWARDS ARE WAITNG NOW

🔥 This Deal is Lit!! Earn More KR0MER Today! 🔥

JUST TEN WEEKS?!! I CANT SEE

(3) messages from hot recently-divorced moms in your area

HURRY, GET YOUR FREE [[DEAL]] [[[OR ELSE]]]]

Yeah, nothing out of the ordinary at all. Sans always got spam emails, and he never activated the spam filter because he got a lot of comedy gold from those subject lines. Made for good bedtime reading too.

Except, well, it was kinda weird to get them today.

“No wi-fi… No wi-fi… Anywhere…”

Sans looked up to find a weird-looking monster huddling by the magazine stacks, holding up his phone with a long, gangly arm. He was waving it around the air like it was a net, reaching to catch those coveted, invisible waves of information.

Terry? Was that Terry? That guy’s never-needing-to-go-to-the-bathroom skills could put his own to shame.

Except that wasn’t Terry.

“No wi-fi… The wi-fi here sucks…”

Sans shrugged. He couldn’t deny it. The wi-fi indeed sucked here. It sucked everywhere. Because it was nonexistent.

The entire town hadn’t had any internet service for quite a few weeks now, which again, was why things were weird.

His phone lit up once more with another email. He peered back at it, smile frozen on his skull.

HEY THERE [[BIG SHOT]]. WANNA MAKE A DEAL?!

Really weird.

The bunker had a few dents in its doors.

Sans usually misses out on just who’s been doing it, but mostly because he doesn’t feel like checking it out. Today though, things were just off enough for him to close his store early, and with good ol’ Terry inside. He’d watch over the wares for his buddy, Sans.

The doors were still pretty beat up, coupled with a few scratches on it – but very firmly shut. Red doors, covered with clinging vines and ivy, underneath a grassy mound as if the earth had been in the middle of swallowing it up before stopping at the last second.

Oh, and there was a purple-shaped monster right in the middle.

“Open up! Why! Won’t! You! Open!”

“hey champ.” Sans leaned against that same grassy mound. Was really comfy, way comfier than leaning against metal doors. Just something that he knew by experience. “you doing good?”

The girl turned around, and what he saw was a lot of teeth.

Sharp, bared teeth, hair covering most of her face, but making sure to keep at least one eye looking through, to give it that extra chilling effect. Coupled with her towering form, slightly hunched, and barely perceived breathing that was like the heave of an ancient creature – someone might say he was big for a teenager, but monsters didn’t really follow the laws of human physics, since they weren’t human.

A voice rumbled out from her throat. “The hell are you sneaking up on me for?”

She was pretty good. Sans could appreciate her talent.

“just thinking that this…thing you’re doing right now….” He eyed the dented doors, the handles that looked very much like they’d been gnawed on, with bite marks still clearly seen through the metal. “seems pretty sus, eh susie?”

Ba dum tsh! Heh. He still got it.

The confused pause happened, as expected. She raised her head, and her demonic flare that she’d been putting on was…not gone, but definitely muted. “What was that?” she hissed. Yeah, only pros could keep up that kinda thing for long. In the end, talent lost out to practice. She was trying though. “Hey. How’d a creep like you know my name?”

“i know everyone.” Sans shrugged. “by the way, im sans. sans the skeleton. and biting this stuff can’t be good for your teeth.”

That, and he’d see her plenty of times in his store. Most of the time she’d be off in the magazine section, leafing through the glossy pages of ‘MONSTER TRUCK RALLY’, which sold just slightly more over ‘HUMAN TRUCK RALLY’, usually because human trucks were a bit on the small side in comparison. She read those magazines so much like his store was the librarbry, but he appreciated the company during the slow hours.

At the mention of teeth, she grinned, fangs a lurid yellow, points so sharp that they’d probably ground most things into dust – well, unless they were a sort of mysterious metal that was in a shady corner of town.

“You wanna see just how good my teeth can be?” she asked him, going back to her creepy vibe. Kid could really go to the big leagues if she really wanted to.

“nah, already got my pearly whites. but i can give you a few brushing tips i’ve picked up on.” Hands dug deep into his jacket pockets, his skull laying nice and cozy on the grass slope. “just remember, it’s all in your head when it comes down to it.”

From the momentary pause, to the tiny flicker in her glowing eye, he could tell she didn’t get the joke. Fair. He knew he’d have a tough audience the moment he’d come here. But that was how it always was in his line of work…. which was cashiering, obviously.

“Even for an adult, you’re way freaking lame.” She grinned again, showing off her fangs that she must have personally filed herself. Maybe she did have good monster dental hygiene after all. “Do you want me to bite your face off that badly?”

She punched a fist against the red doors once more, the sound ringing so hollow in the air. Birds flew from the trees at the sound, and it even made Sans’ teeth rattle from the vibrations of her punch against the metal. If one listened even more closely, they could hear the waves of such a hollow ring go further away, further, and much further into the earth than should have even been possible…

He shrugged. “i don’t have one.”

She stuttered, blinking. Her messy hair got even more mussed up. “Uh. Wha.”

“a face.” Sans waved a gloved hand over his skull. “don’t got one. just all bones.”

Another slow blink.

“cuz you know. i’m a skeleton.”

The wind blew through her hair, revealing her eyes that were more tired out from playing video games all night then being all bloodthirsty and vicious a second ago.

“we don’t have skin, so, technically no face-”

“YOU KNOW WHAT I FREAKING MEAN, YOU WEIRDO!”

Her roar would have been eardrum shattering if he had any. But he was always lacking instead of having. He was used to it really.

“just sayin.” Another shrug, complete with a wink. “gotta get your skeleton facts straight. no bones about it.”

“Who cares about bones?!” She clenched her fists, grinded her teeth. She was really trying her best here. “I’ll crack your bony skull open then!”

“can’t.” He shrugged again.

“What. WHY?!”

“we’re monsters. don’t got no bones like the humans do, only magic.” He winked. “ya need to learn more about your culture.”

He had never seen purple turn into quite that fire-y shade before.

“The hell… is your problem…?”

“nothing. i just like being annoying.”

“YOU CAN’T JUST SAY THAT!”

“whoa. starting to sound like my brother there. ya friends with him?”

“Why would I-?! Agh, screw this! I’m done with this place anyway!” Susie huffed, turning around only to find Sans leaning against the grassy mound again, just on the opposite side.

She flinched, standing on one leg, arms flailing just a bit, eyes wide. “What the HELL?”

“look, kid. i only came here to see what was up, is all.” He finally decided to stand, though not doing so at a hundred percent power. So he was still a little slouchy, a little sleepy. He was missing his regulated 20th break of the day. The union wasn’t going to be happy. “felt some bad vibes coming from here.”

The girl was not looking very happy right now in her oversized army jacket and her torn up trousers, (the tears most likely being self-made). She glared down at the funny bone man, but much of her previous bravado was gone, leaving her bereft of anything even remotely scary about her anymore. “I’m… I’m not doing anything wrong here! I just wanted to see what was inside this stupid thing.” She huffed, which sounded more like a snort, really. Sans was pretty sure that hadn’t been intentional. “No other kids come here or anything, so it’s not like I’m scaring anyone again.”

Sans shook his head. “nah nah. i didn’t mean you, you know.”

He did have a really bad habit of not being clear, so seeing Susie’s eyes twitch in frustration was not exactly surprising. “You just-! You just said about there being bad vibes and I was saying how I wasn’t-!”

“not from you,” he clarified. “you’re a good kid. you got…halloween vibes. like, you’re spooky. and you could pull off a box costume like nobody’s business.”

The confusion was mixed in with a bit of flattery there, if he could read the shade of purple on her face just right. “Then…what exactly are you talking about?”

He jutted a gloved thumb to the double doors, the red on it faded, like rust, like dried remnants of things that monsters were not made of. The gentle rumbling in the earth, the sound of something akin to refuse, to things that should be buried away and forgotten, like machinery that refused to just power down and stay still.

“bad vibes,” he simply said. “not a place for kids. so.” He put his hand back in his pocket, leaned back in his slippers that needed a good washing about three weeks ago. “gonna have to ask you to vamoose outta here. ya know. for your health.”

Easy as that. Susie just stared at him, which was nothing new. If people are staring, that just means you have an audience.

“Okay, I should leave then. Is that what you’re saying?”

He nodded. “yea.”

“…I was just about to do that, dumbass.” Susie growled. “And then you stopped me!”

“oh right.” Sans shrugged. “my mistake. but ya get me, right?”

“Ugh, I get ya enough! Whatever. This place sucks anyway.” She then pressed a hand to her jaw, lips pressed firm. “And those stupid doors hurt my teeth.”

Sans sympathized with the kid. “told ya. bad vibes.”

“Yeah yeah…” She sighed, still glaring at Sans like the weirdo that he knew he was. “Maybe don’t spy on kids though, freak.”

“i’ll put that in the pile, don’t worry,” he said, very much not taking that complaint to heart. “as a professional kid-spy though, aren’t you late for something?”

“What do you-” And just on cue, a certain school bell rang throughout the town, even reaching as far as this off-the-road corner of the town, where mean girls and tubby skeletons liked to hang out at. “Ugh. Not again!!”

“try not to rampage through a few buildings in your way.” And though he saw the look of unbridled annoyance at him as she turned, just about to dash out of there, Sans had an idea. “hey kid. one sec.”

“What is it NOW?” Susie lunged at him, stopping short from gripping his skull with her ginormous hands. “Why do you keep telling me to leave and then not actually let me leave?!”

“don’t worry, just a few things i gotta tell ya. first, try not to come back here. least not without a friend. good friends can be relied on, ya know?”

“Grr… well, don’t worry that won’t happen. So I won’t be back.” She lost some of her ferocity then, hair falling over her face more. Teen angst was always tough to handle.

“second… how about a pick-me-up?” He winked. “i can cut ya a deal.”

At that, Susie picked up her head. “Huh? Are you… one of those kind of guys…”

He held up his hand, signifying her to quiet down. “gotta keep it on the downlow. get me?”

Sans knew then that this kid had been watching plenty of films to get at what he meant. Or thought she got at what he meant. The difference didn’t really matter.

“here, kid. on the house. just don’t tell anyone where you got this.”

He gestured for her to hold out her hand, and even though she hesitated, she was curious. Obvious in the way her eyes lit up (non-menacingly this time), and how her tail was wagging. But of course he wasn’t going to mention that.

So when she did, great purple dinosaur hand outstretched, white claws atop each finger that were probably as sharp as fluffy marshmallows, Sans pulled out something from his pocket.

He kept his gloved hand curled up, even as he gave it to her. He then sealed the deal with a wink. “don’t spend it all in one place.”

And with that, he was outta there, just able to see Susie’s eyes sparkle with both want and a little confusion.

Sans really hoped Alphys wasn’t missing that chalk anytime soon.

The spam emails kept running through, even in the later hours of the day.

Sans’ email storage didn’t have a limit. And, on further deliberation, maybe that had been a mistake.

It was getting to the point where he couldn’t even open up his emails actually. The little bone-and-skulls icon kept loading and rattling on the screen. (It was a skeleton email app. Very hip with skeleton monsters. And a few humans who were way too into that kind of thing.) A shame. He was looking forward to what unintelligible garbage he’d received next.

At the very least, he got those sweet, sweet subject lines, hovering on his lock screen. Lines like ‘Hurry! Get Your Free Doggo Today!’ and ‘FW: I got a surprise for you…!! [[DON’T HANG UP]]’ and of course the classic, 3OLBS?!?! IN JUST3 WEEKS? [[ENDS TONIGHT]] Y0U F0RGOT AB0UT ME???

Whoever was writing these, they had a knack for this stuff.

A gentle ding caught his attention, already telling him who it was. There was only one person who did that, letting the soft tone of the desk bell play out its tune fully. Everyone else just mashed their hands on the bell constantly, which he also liked. He didn’t pick favorites…usually.

It was different with the old lady.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t disturb you from your break, did I?”

“’fraid you might have,” he said, turning around and facing his most favorite customer, his static grin just stretching a tiny bit wider. “gonna have to report ya to the authorities.”

Toriel was wearing her reading glasses today. She wore them almost all the time lately, probably forgetting she had them on in the first place. But he liked the way they framed her face, how they reflected her charm in all the right ways. On her arm, she carried one of the shopping baskets, and always he had to marvel at that, seeing the dreaded tower of stacked baskets that by now had reached the very ceiling. But she had never told him her secret.

“Oh my. Well, you would have to catch me first!” She chuckled, hand placed over her furry muzzle, her fur as white as the eggs she so liked buying from him. “I don’t mind being a goat on the run.”

“man, now you’ve goat to be kidding me,” he countered back. “guess you’ll be hoofing it before i even know it.”

“Well now! You herd it here first! But I can’t let the law goat me down, you know.”

“i definitely goat ya for sure.” And he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle of his own, feeling a sort of fuzziness that was only reserved for those with skin and fur. But it was all just a matter of perspective really. “just hope ya don’t forget me while you’re on the lamb.”

“Oh, not to worry. I can guarantee that I will miss you a skele-ton!”

There was a loud thud of something heavy hitting the floor in a corner of his store – to be specific, it was like the weird plop of a gallon of milk being thrown to the tiles in frustration – and Sans didn’t need to turn to know it was that same guy who just seemed to really like milk.

“I can’t focus on finding the right milk this way with all these puns!!! I’m sick I know it!! But let me live!! I’ll have to go to the bread aisle next if this keeps up…”

Toriel heard the muttering too, and a red blush coated her pure white fur. “Oops, perhaps we have overdone it a little this time, my friend.”

“no sweat. these jokes never get old, unlike some other things if ya get me.” He heard the groan from back in the corner. “by that i mean things like milk.” Another groan. “just wanted to make that clear.”

But right, that was probably enough pun wars for the day. Toriel was handing out her items for Sans to scan – which was really just her reaching for the scanner to do so herself. Was real nice of her to do this part for him. She could scan those eggs and bread like a real pro. Maybe he really should think of hiring.

“I missed you earlier today, it seems. The sign said you had to go somewhere? Oh, but now I’m just being nosy.”

“hey, i got nothing to hide from ya.” He leaned back against the counter, counting out all the eggs that she was meticulously checking one final time before purchase. “just had to do my side job. no biggie.”

“I had no idea you had so many responsibilities!”

“yeah, don’t like to brag though.” He placed his skull in a gloved hand, leaning down so that Toriel could seem even taller to him. It was fun to do. “playing truancy officer doesn’t exactly pay the bills.”

He didn’t have to say much before she was already figuring out just what he meant. That was the thing about miss teach here. She could read between the lines so well sometimes, that he had to make sure to play his cards just right. With careful handling of a certain box of pasta in her hand, she quietly scanned that one too before continuing to speak.

“I wanted to reach out to her home, but no one answers the phone. And she never explains about it much either.” A sigh, but not out of weariness. Only worry. Never had he met anyone who genuinely worried about all kids like this, no matter what they did. “Did Susie look okay to you?”

“just the usual, putting up the mean girl act.” He cracked his knuckles, the kinda thing that would send looks of disgust from across the room, but it only made Toriel crack a little smile of her own. “she’s a good kid though. just needs someone looking out for her.”

And then, that made him think a little more on that. “by the way, how’s your kid been doing, teach?”

Another pause, once again, this time holding up a box of chocolates, the real rich kind. The kind that just made one’s teeth hurt by just looking at the packaging. “They miss their brother so very much.”

Sans got the feeling all too well.

His phone vibrated again, and it was by instinct to reach for it, to swipe at the screen with his thumb and see what it was. Oh, but this time, he could open the app. The skull-and-bones cackled with glee as he could go to his list of emails, finding the string of capitalized letters and strange font use like an old friend.

[SPAM 4: S25 KAS] Re: failed kr0mer funds transfer Please contact me pleabse contact HELP

Nothing that unusual. But, why was it working now? He definitely needed a new iBone at his point. (That joke had been a stretch, he wasn’t proud of that one honestly.)

Just as Toriel was packing up her purchases in a slightly worn but still sturdy reusable shopping bag, she had seen the email light up on his phone. She chuckled. “Oh, haha! Looks like you goat mail!” She then paused, tapping her fingers together. “That was a very bad one, my apologies.”

“hm, don’t you mean…very baaaad?” Okay, so that put a strain on his non-existent vocal cords, but it got the old lady giggling and chortling, and maybe even a little snorting too.

“Haha, it certainly was indeed!”

“Oh my god can we please move the line already. I can’t keep carrying these on my head all day.” A cat-like monster with orange-like fur and a depression-like face was standing behind Toriel. He was struggling with carrying a bunch of ice cube packs on his head, the water already dripping down the sides of his head and onto his pants.

Toriel instantly hurried, grabbing her bag with hardly a blink, but not before giving Sans a wave. “I must be getting back home anyways. See you tomorrow!”

Sans waved back at her, shooting her one last wink. He was punned out, so he settled with a “see ya, teach.”

As for the weird email he got, well, he could always check it once he got home, and once this cat in front of him was moist-free.

Not like he was gonna actually open it anyway.

It had been a long day at work for him, and not much happened after Toriel left – nothing except for when he talked with that kid of hers when they had stopped by, for a little bit.

And what they talked about was…

Well, it wasn’t that important to think back to anyway. As long as the kid brushed their teeth, didn’t catch any colds, or ate past their daily amount of chalk nutrients, they should be fine. At least, that was what he kept telling himself.

Well, if he ignored that question about his brother at least.

But just when he was tired of blocking the entrance to the confusion of his customers, Sans decided to call it quits and head for home, which was just five steps away. It was always a rough commute, but sometimes one had to make sacrifices for keeping food on the table.

But before he could even put his hand on the doorknob, the windows inside so dark, the sounds inside so faint, his phone did something that it had never done before.

It rang.

Sans was very, very still.

His ring tone was also a fart noise.

So the phone would ring with a string of farting noises, one that played the Christmas carol, all in perfect tune. It was hilarious, but he usually never got to hear it.

And in his pocket, his phone was happily farting away, like it was having the time of his life.

He wished he could feel the same.

Underneath the red roof of his porch, Sans reached for the phone, gazing at the dark screen to show that someone was calling. It had no picture and no number. Not even an ‘Unknown’ to go with it. Just blank.

But it kept ringing – well, it kept farting. The kind of thing that would make a kid get into a laughing frenzy. He was envious.

“so this, huh?” he said to no one. Hopefully no one. It would be better if it was nobody at all.

He answered it, and the funny noises stopped. He expected to hear nothing but garbage at the other end of the line. That was just how things should have been. He put the phone to his skull, to the place where ears usually were.

It should just be trash. Nothing but that.

And instead, he heard a voice.

…

HOW LONG

IT HAS BEEN.

#deltarune #deltarune chapter 2 #sans #spamton g. spamton #spamton #toriel #susie (deltarune)#fanfiction #soriel #but very minor #multi chapter

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