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uglypastels · 9 months

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the Special | Sanji x reader

a/n - my first One Piece fic. absolutely terrifying but definitely a needed change of scenario to get out of my writing block. please be kind; I'm taking all my inspo from the live-action as that is what I am currently the most familiar with. but, well, we just have to see how it goes. bon appetite

Shoutout to my dear @mydearzero for encouraging my newfound obsession with this show and this character, as well as generally encouraging me to write. this is all your fault. And to everyone else who had been expecting me to finally post one of the other million fics I had promised... I'm sorry

And kind reminder that reblogs is what makes tumblr work. Please, if you enjoyed the story, reblog

word count: 9.9k

warning: 18+ only. MDNI. smut. piv sex. oral sex (f!receiving). unprotected sex [wrap up your eggplants yall]. semi-public sex. several FDA regulation code breaks, probably. afab reader. swearing. little bit of angst. shitty and fat-shaming [oc!]boyfriend/date. fist fight. alcohol consumption.

“Look at your waiter's face. He knows. It's another reason to be polite to your waiter; he could save your life with a raised eyebrow or a sigh.”

― Anthony Bourdain,

The first thing you saw was the red, bright sign spelling out the restaurant's name.

Baratie. You had no clue what it meant but could only hope that “the best restaurant in the East Blue” was somewhere down the list of its definitions, especially after the months that they had kept you on the waiting list and the tumultuous trip that it took to sail there. Next, as your ship approached, you saw the… fish head. The sight of the sculpture at the front of the ship structure buried some worry in the pit of your stomach, but surely, if so many people had given it such fond reviews, the exterior was not to speak for what awaited you inside.

‘Believe me, baby, you’ll love it here.’

‘I really hope so,’ you smiled as you got off your boat. Your legs shook at the knee as you stepped onto the sturdy dock planks. Days at sea, which had never been your friend, had clearly done more damage than you expected. You would have been on the floor if it wasn’t for the pair of arms holding on to you.

‘Thanks, Chosi,’ you said towards your boyfriend as he helped you steadily get back onto your feet.

‘Can’t have you faceplant the second we get here,’ he brushed some invisible dust off your shoulder, and with his arm entwined with yours, he led you to the entrance of the establishment. You grabbed at the skirt of your dress to keep it down as the wind blew by.

As you walked, you looked at all the other ships harboured on the… was this an island? Was the entirety just one large ship? Was it anchored to something then, or was it drifting around the seas constantly? You couldn’t quite comprehend the logistics of it all. But you could tell that humans and other creatures of all walks of life–royalty, commoners, marines, pirates—were unbothered by each other's presence and enjoying the outing. Once inside, the shushed sound of the waves was exchanged for a whisper of swing music, as well as the chatter of the restaurant’s patrons and the clinking of their cutlery on plates. The walls were lined in crimson wallpaper as well as painted depictions of sea battles, accented in gold and bronze details matching the furniture placed spaciously around the room and the two stories above it that lead the eye to a beautiful aquamarine ceiling that gave the illusion as if one was looking up at the bright sky from underwater.

The maitre’d, a Fishman, stood to attention at your entrance.

‘Good afternoon, how may I help you?’ he asked kindly.

‘We have a reservation. Name is Chosi,’ Chosi stated with his head held high. Despite you doubting that anyone knew his name in these parts of the world, he never ceased to pronounce it with a level of expectation to it. It was commendable, as well as disappointing, when nothing happened afterwards. The maitre’d simply nodded and glanced down at his long list of names, searching for the one he had just heard, ready to cross it off.

‘Ah, yes, right here. Please, do follow me to your table.’ And so, you did just that, walking down the grand staircase onto the restaurant's main floor, where you seated at one of the smaller tables, perfect for a romantic dinner for two. ‘Your waiter will be right with you.’ The Fishman bid you farewell just like that and returned to his position at the door.

‘So?’ Chosi looked at you with a raised brow as you looked around.

‘It is quite stunning.’ You must admit that you did not expect this kind of splendour when looking at the carved fish that gaped at you outside. Something about that just did not exude the same essence as the timeless and classy beauty of the interior. You barely even felt the shake of the waves beneath you.

Maybe your response wasn’t sufficient, for Chosi had opened his mouth to respond, something in the angles of his face announcing displeasure, but he was interrupted by a new presence at your table. You looked up at the tall figure towering over you.

‘Welcome,’ the man spoke, his accent clearly indicating his origin if only you had been aware of where that was. Simultaneously, he put down a plate of bread rolls, perfectly and meticulously positioned atop it. ‘...to Baratie. My name is Sanji; I will be your waiter this afternoon.’

‘Took you long enough.’ Chosi mumbled under his breath, giving you an immense urge to kick him underneath the table, but you knew better than to do that, especially when he did not seem to be ready to stop any time soon. ‘Trying to convince my girl this place is worth visiting, heh.’ You could feel your cheeks burning up in embarrassment. Nevertheless, the waiter—Sanji, he said was his name—did not seem to give the comment much thought as he looked down at you with a curve to his thin-lined lips.

‘My apologies, madame; I hope my service will not give you the false impression of this establishment being worth any of your precious time.’ The smoothness of his voice almost concealed the true meaning behind his speech, leaving you, as well as your date, speechless. However, you felt your speaking ability to be taken away by more than just his words as you spared a second to take your waiter in properly. You just could not help but notice how his suit wrapped around his arms, and although one was covered by his blonde hair, his eyes had a glint of something that excited you despite not even knowing the root of that excitement.

Like nothing had happened, Sanji continued, ‘Would you care to see the menu? Hear the specials?’ That is when you noticed the menu cards he was holding in his hand. And he must have been ready to list the special items, but Chosi was a step ahead.

‘Actually, I think we are ready to order.’ That was the first you had heard of it, but you stayed put as he continued. After all, Chosi had eaten here before. He knew what was good, and you could trust his judgement.

‘Prime rib, medium rare,’ as your boyfriend spoke, you kept your eye on the waiter, noticing the appearance of the smallest of flinches in his face at the sound of the dish, but never faltering his picture-perfect appearance, ‘and my lady will have the salad.’

Another twitch, right below his visible eyes, followed, but Sanji’s professional facade stayed on as he inquired: ‘We offer quite a variety of salads; which would madame prefer?’ And with that, he turned to you, that smile plastered on like a sticker, but he had trouble keeping it on as the answer to his question did not come from your mouth.

‘Whichever is the best, of course.’ Chosi rolled his eyes, and you wished you could do so as well. The waiter glanced between you and him, turning back to you momentarily. Long enough for you to give him a reassuring smile. It would be in everyone’s best interest if he just moved on from the matter.

‘Drinks, then,’ Sanji again spoke with an unphased essence about him, as if nothing from the past few minutes had ever occurred, or at least tried to emulate this. ‘Madam, anything I can get you?’ The way he emphasised that word didn’t require any pointed glares.

‘Uhm,’ you hesitated as he kept his full attention on you, completely ignoring the man sitting opposite you at the table, making Chosi stare at you just as, if not more, intensely, for all the opposite reasons. Out of panic, you just blurted out the most straightforward order. ‘Just water, thank you.’ It being the first words you said in the waiter's presence, they came out soft. Nothing like your regular voice, which startled you slightly.

‘Still, sparkling or mineral?’ Sanji pursued.

‘Still please,’ you smiled shyly, unsure where that actual shyness derived from.

‘Ice? Cubed or crushed?’ He fired the questions at a rapid pace.

‘A bit of ice is fine. Thank you,’ you repeated yourself, looking down at the table and letting the waiter move on to the rest of the order. He didn’t say anything else but looked at Chosi with anticipation.

‘I’ll have your finest brew.’

‘Coming up,’ his voice had a sudden coldness to it as he walked away, back to the kitchen, leaving the table to a thick silence.

‘I could have ordered for myself, you know,’ you said, with that same soft tone you had spoken with earlier, although this felt much more familiar seeing who you talked to.

‘And have you stuff yourself with some useless carbs? C’mon, you know I’m just looking out for you, here.’

‘I know.’ You straightened out a fork in front of you, suddenly feeling uneasy at how far away from the plate it was positioned compared to the knife on the opposite side. You were straightening out a crease in the tablecloth when Sanji returned with a silver tray in one hand. He placed the pint glass full of golden brew in front of Chosi before turning your way and setting a glass beside your plate. With a pair of tongs, one by one, he let ice cubes fall to the bottom of it, the clinking against the glass almost deafening. Then, he followed up with another pair of tongs and reached for a little tray but stopped himself to ask you: ‘Care for a slice of lemon, madame?’

‘Oh, uhm, sure,’ you shrugged, unable to look away. This process of pouring a glass of water felt rather extensive, but you could not deny the fact you were enjoying it all. As he grabbed the large pitcher to pour the water, you were unsure how he had carried all of these items with one hand and did so seemingly effortlessly.

‘There we go,’ he smiled, ‘your food will be with you shortly, but do let me know if you require anything else.’ And just like that, he was gone again, but not without leaving you feeling that he had meant his parting words especially for you and that that sentiment had undoubtedly not escaped your date.

‘I don’t like the look of that guy.’ Chosi glared at you as he took a sip from his pint, slurping up the top layer of foam with it.

‘I think he’s quite sweet.’ You straightened out the fork again and reached for a bread roll to tear it apart piece by piece.

‘Of course you would,’ he rolled his eyes, which made you look up from your little snack.

‘What is that supposed to mean?’ You put the bread roll down as the pit in your stomach hollowed out your appetite. Right, making space for that damn salad.

‘Nothing.’ Chosi shrugged, ‘Just that it's typical that somehow I’m the only one to notice when some guy is trying to cop a feel.’

‘He was doing no such thing.’ You had to bite your tongue not to raise your voice as his insinuation, despite being on the waiter's actions, seemed to be brutally judging yourself. ‘The poor guy is just doing his job. I’m not bothered by it, and neither should you be.’ Usually, you would attach some sweet nickname at the end of that sentence, but this was one too many times you had said a variant of the confirmation, and you were growing tired of just the thought of it.

Somewhere in the distance, a table erupted into a shouting match that had to be broken up by a handful of waiters. While usually, you turned away from such brutalities, never having been fond of violence and not particularly having a necessity in seeing people getting their teeth punched out minutes before eating a meal, this time you stretched your neck out to glance across the room, secretly hoping to catch a glimpse of the white-blonde hair among the rousing heads. Someone had pulled a pistol, but the weapon was kicked out of the man's grip before they could shoot or even alarm people enough to hide beneath their tables. Just like that, the restaurant resumed its normal state of pleasantries, and you got back to your abysmal date and hoped it was still worth saving… or that saving was still even an option to begin with.

‘From what you had told me about the place, Chi, it is much grander than I had expected.’ You smiled, and he nodded to your affirmations.

‘Well, I didn’t want to raise the expectations too high, but you know I don’t do anything but the best for you, sweet cheeks.’

‘Of course—’ you were interrupted by the footsteps nearing your table, and the weight nearly lifted off your shoulders at the sight of Sanji carrying too large plates.

‘Hello there,’ he grinned slyly, ‘hope I don’t interrupt anythin’.’

‘Not at all,’ You moved your glass aside to make space for your dish, but Sanji put Chosi’s plate down first, announcing the food.

‘Prime rib, medium rare, for the gentleman.’ Like everything else, he precisely placed it so the gold details on the plate faced the diner exactly right. The roast glistened in the restaurant's dim light, and the smell hit you right at the nerves that reminded you of your hunger. But that was for the gentleman, and the gentleman had ordered for you the—

‘And for the madame,’ Sanji put a plate in front of you, ‘what I like to call the Sanji Special.’

You looked down at your plate of food with a stunned expression and then looked back up. Just in time, you caught the slight wink that your waiter had sent you before stepping back to then, with a nod, say, ‘Bon appetite.’

He got to take about three steps and had just turned his back towards your table when Chosi called out to him, clearing his throat. ‘Ehem, excuse me, Sonny.’

‘Is there a problem?’ Sanji returned with his hands behind his back, but you didn’t need to see his fists to know he was clenching them. It was all visible in the strain of his upper arms and jaw as he restrained himself to keep up a polite smile.

‘I am pretty sure we had ordered a salad?’ Chosi tried to play it off with a casual laugh, but it turned out to be anything but. Sanji leaned forward to grab the plate, but then your boyfriend exclaimed, ‘No, not for me; for her.’ before the waiter got his hand on his prime rib.

With a satisfied smile, Sanji glanced at your plate and stated: ‘That is a salad.’

Not that you did not appreciate what was in front of you, but if it was a salad, it was the loosest interpretation of the definition possible. You had to keep your laugh in as he explained that the dish was a “twist on kensui salad with steamed components, egg, and pork” or, in your simpler terms… the most delicious-looking pot of ramen you had ever encountered in your life, but no, definitely not a salad in the traditional sense. You smiled at the food, not daring to look up at Sanji while your boyfriend’s head seemed to be boiling alive, but the waiter was a step ahead of you.

‘Ah, almost forgot, for the lady,’ almost out of nowhere, he made a pair of chopsticks appear for you.

‘She will not be eating that,’ Chosi grunted.

‘I think that is for her to decide,’ Sanji didn’t even bother to look at him, keeping his sweet smile on you, which, in turn, rushed a hot flush over your cheeks.

‘Chosi, don’t be like that; this looks delicious.’ You spoke, hoping he would calm down and let you finally sink your teeth into this gorgeous meal. After a tense second, Chosi finally huffed out and sank back down in his chair, making you realise he had been on the verge of getting up for whatever reason. Either way, his intentions could not have been good. In the meantime, Sanji excused himself once more to finally leave you to eat.

You had perhaps taken half a bite when Chosi, his food untouched, spoke up again. ‘Why do you always do this?’

‘Do what?’ your throat tightened around the pork you had just swallowed.

‘Embarrass me like that?’ He sighed, a vein in his forehead looking more prominent than ever.

‘I didn’t—’

‘Cut the shit, you know what you’re doing.’ Chosi slammed his fist on the table, startling you and the few people sitting at the nearest tables to you.

‘Please, can we not do this now,’ you kept your head down, ignoring all the pairs of eyes that must have started catching on to what was happening. Chosi had turned red from anger by that point.

‘What, am I being too much for you? Imagine what it’s like going out with a slut—’

‘Chosi!’ you snapped, immediately covering your face with your hand as if you had not meant to shout and grab the attention of even more people.

Deep breath in.

Out.

‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ You hissed at the man across the table from you.

‘With me? You’re the one that has been eyefucking the waiter this whole time, and now you disrespected me like that in front of him? Do I mean so little to you?’

‘I did no such thing.’ You rolled your eyes, catching glimpses of the room you were in. The people that sat around, the employees. Of course, Sanji stood only a few tables away, taking an order. Could he hear what was happening? Most likely, the idea of that burned you in a new, much more unpleasant manner. Chosi must have said something, but you had been too occupied by your surroundings and too tired to even listen to what other vile things he had to tell you. The only thing that kept you at that table was the food, but no matter how good, it wasn’t worth enduring him. ‘You know what,’ you grabbed your napkin and slapped it onto the table, ‘I can’t do this right now. I’ll see you on the boat.’ The chair shrieked as you shoved it back.

‘Where the hell do you think you’re going,’ Chosi growled practically, and despite you having already turned your back to him, you heard his own chair scrape the deck floor. You had your eyes squeezed shut as you got ready for what was coming. He reached out, but nothing happened.

You looked over your shoulder to see Sanji pulling Chosi in by the sleeve.

‘Believe me, we don’t wanna do that, mate.’ Sanji said, his eyes filled with a new rage that made you take a step back.

‘Let go of me, you sleaze.’ Chosi suddenly reminded you of a feral kitten, how he tried to wriggle himself out of the waiter’s grip. ‘I’ll make you regret ever touching me. Do you know who I am?’

‘Do I look like I give a shit?’ he let go with a laugh, almost pushing Chosi to the ground. As your date dusted off his sleeves, Sanji took a step forward, pressing himself against him. Now that both men were standing face to face, did you only realise how much taller Sanji was than your boyfriend. How much bigger and, most likely, how much stronger. With a hushed and reserved tone yet somehow full of intimidation, the waiter said, ‘Don’t you ever try to touch or speak to a woman like that again, you hear me? Or I’ll make you regret you were ever born.’

Chosi could only nod with his eyes blown wide open. The restaurant was dead quiet, unable to pull their eyes away from the scene unfolding before them. No one said anything or moved, and yet, somewhere, a stack of plates fell. The crash of porcelain echoed through the space, and Sanji turned his attention toward the kitchen’s double doors for a second. That quick moment was enough for Chosi to find his moment and attack.

Or at least make an attempt at it.

Sanji was still looking toward the kitchen, and Chosi’s fist was in mid-air, but the waiter flawlessly manoeuvred around it, swinging himself back and letting Chosi fall forward. To make matters worse, Sanji supplemented the fall by kicking him over. If it wasn’t for the fact that your boyfriend’s chin had smacked against the table, you would have missed the entire thing, as Sanji’s movements were so elegant that it seemed as if he had not moved at all. He might as well have been refilling your water, ignorant of the groaning mess of a man he had kicked down to the ground with such ease.

Chosi got up shakily. A nasty cut was already dripping blood from the underside of his face, but the redness didn’t compare to the rage on his face. He looked around until his eyes caught yours. ‘What, you’re just gonna stand there like some dumb–’

‘What did I just say?’ Sanji said, this time much louder, not trying to hide the row from the rest of the diners. But before he could make another move, Chosi reached for the nearest thing he could reach, which in his case was your dish of ramen, and threw a fistful of noodles Sanji’s way, hitting him square in the chest.

Silence.

He must have been too stunned at the audacious strike to move out of the way for it. Everyone must have been watching the noodles unstick from his navy jacket and slowly fall to the ground, then watched as Sanji raised his head back up, his expression unamused and cold, but his eyes filled with a passionate and furious fire. One that was enough to live up to the promise he had made the man you had come to the restaurant with. And so, just like that, without another word needing to be said by anyone, you watched Chosi back away—one, two, three steps, whimpering and mumbling some comments that could almost make up an apology, before he sprinted up the stairs to the exit.

‘Ridiculous,’ you heard Sanji mutter under his breath. ‘Fucking waste of food.’

Before you could think any better about it, you walked up and knelt down, as he did, to reach for the spilt noodles. ‘I am so sorry,’ you started apologising. ‘I swear normally he–’

‘Is exactly like that,’ Sanji chuckled with a rasp. You looked up at him, a bit dumbfounded. He had managed to scoop most of the food before you had and was already getting up. ‘You have nothing to apologise for.’ One of his colleagues had been quick with bringing over cleaning supplies. ‘If anything, I should be the one saying sorry. Let me make it up to you—a drink in the bar, on the house.’

‘No, that is really not necessary.’ You couldn’t accept anything for free after your boyfriend pulled off such a scene and… had run off without paying. The realisation hit you like a brick on the head as you cursed under your breath with a strong sense of panic, which Sanji caught on to immediately.

‘Please,’ He reached gently for your arm. ‘I insist.’

You stuttered for a moment before actually answering in defeated agreement. With a satisfied smile, Sanji led you to another exit, leading to the bar deck. ‘Right this way, madame.’

The bar deck, located in the mouth of that giant fish head, was moderately empty. Except for you and the appointed barman behind the counter, only a handful of others were sprinkled across the couches and futons. You chose a seat overlooking the sea and the setting sun that coloured the sky and waters an array of warm colours.

You understood that you had to go up to the bar to order, but you felt no particular need for it, just enjoying the breeze that brought over the calm sea air towards you.

It was unclear how much time you spent sitting out there, looking at the waves splashing by and the clouds above you and the people around you. Only once the sun had set entirely, darkening the sky completely, and most people had left the area, you decide to finally walk up to the bartender and place an order. The man nodded and proceeded to make your drink with only a few attached flourishes to the craft, but the result was charming and tasted delicious.

‘I hope I had made it clear that that was one drink on the house,’ you heard from behind you.

‘Don’t worry, this is my first.’ You said, turning around to see Sanji standing behind you.

‘You might just be the slowest drinker I have ever met,’ he said as he took the spot by your side.

‘Jeez, do your manners flush away the second you’re off the clock?’ You smiled, taking a sip of your drink, most likely also proving Sanji his point as the sip you took was particularly small.

‘For what it’s worth, madame, I was about to tell you that your bill has been taken care of.’ He leaned against the bar countertop with his forearms. ‘But I will make myself scarce now.’

‘No, wait,’ you stopped him before he could push himself back. ‘What do you mean it was– I would have happily paid. At least let me leave a tip.’ You were ready to pull out your purse when he took his turn to halt your movements.

‘I will not be accepting any tips for my service today. And honestly, you barely had a meal to eat, let alone to pay for. It is all taken care of. I promise.’

You looked up at him apprehensively, but something about his–not necessarily laidback–but how he was so comfortable with the situation put you at ease, too. But something was gnawing at your conscience.

‘Alright then, but I disagree with the review of your service. You most certainly need something for it in return.’ How could you repay the man who had just gotten you out of your horrific relationship? You doubted anything in the world could match your actual gratefulness. Although, maybe the smile that pulled at Sanji’s lips said something different.

‘Let me cook for you.’

‘What?’ You blinked slowly, making him smile even wider.

‘You haven’t eaten anything proper in hours. Let me make you something in the kitchen–an exclusive guest experience.’

‘That doesn’t sound much like a gratuity for you.’ You pointed out, but he did not seem to mind.

‘Indulge me,’ was all he responded with. Feeling giddy at the prospect, you glanced over at the bartender, who was definitely listening in on the conversation. Understanding what you meant with your look, he simply shrugged while wiping the glasses.

‘Ok then.’ This entire thing felt utterly ridiculous, and you didn’t hide the amusement you felt from it as Sanji opened the door to the kitchen for you. That is when your smile lightly faltered, only to be replaced with a fallen jaw as you looked around in amazement. Like the dining area, this room had a high ceiling but wasn’t decorated as much as simply visually enhanced by all the bronze pots and pans hanging around, and the pipes leading from the ovens and stoves up to the chimneys. There were long lines of prep stations, behind which one Sanji comfortably made himself at home as he immediately got started on something.

The first few minutes, after you watched him exchange his suit jacket for a white chef’s uniform, you were occupied with the kitchen itself, but once you had gotten used to the environment, you wondered where you could make yourself equally comfortable as not a nuisance to him as he cooked.

‘Make yourself at home, sweetheart,’ he said while chopping some ingredients at a speed that made your heart skip a beat in fear. Or did that come from the new nickname that caught you by surprise?

‘What happened to “madame”?’ you walked closer to his station. Sanji just looked up briefly, eye covered by his hair but his smile evermore present. Your smile lasted longer as you forgot you had meant to look at what he was doing, not to stare at him. Noticing he was not planning on answering your question, you asked another. ‘So, what exactly are you making?’

‘Since I’m sure dinner did not turn out entirely as you had planned, I thought maybe dessert would be a good pick-me-up. Rose and chocolate meringue tartes, how does that sound?’

‘Makes me wonder what I did to deserve it,’ you laugh it off while speaking the question that had been on your mind this whole time.

‘I like to show a lady how she’s meant to be treated,’ he said as he poured several ingredients into a glass bowl and began wicking at a pace that should have stopped him from looking so effortless long ago. ‘It’s all part of the special package deal.’

‘Right, the Sanji Special, was it?’ You looked around at the countertop next to him, which seemed free from ingredients and anything you could set on fire. You glanced his way, and he swiftly nodded your way. With that permission in mind, you pushed yourself up on the counter, swinging your legs lightly back and forth. ‘So what exactly does this special indicate?’

‘A nice meal, a little surprise, a few kind words, nothing too crazy. I would like to think that, with it, I have perfected the recipe on how to eliminate shitbag boyfriends like that prince charming you came here with.’

‘My knight in shining armour.’ You rolled your eyes, hiding how much you appreciated all his actions from that day. ‘Must have worked on quite a few girls then?’

‘Can’t say it has,’ he said as he pushed the oven open to prebake a few tartelette frames. The speed at which he worked truly was otherworldly.

‘Can’t because of a bad success rate or because you hadn’t actually tried it before?’

He appeared next to you from beside the oven; tiny droplets of sweat were forming at his temple, but his energy was still burning like the fire under the pot where he was melting the chocolate. ‘Let's say the latter. For both our dignity’s sake.’ It did not come as a surprise to you that he was a flirt and most likely tried these tricks out on the entirety of the female clientele, and yet, for reasons unknown, you did not mind one bit, and it still did not seize to make the smallest of his advances work on you with tremendous effect.

‘Don’t think I have much more of that left after everything that happened out there.’ You cringed at the memory of the shouting, the mess, and just how many people had been sitting there watching you.

‘There’s been much worse out there, believe me.’ Sanji lowered the fire under the pan lightly.

‘I hardly believe that. He threw noodles at you. That is absolutely revolting behaviour.’ And somehow, you managed not to get kicked out of the restaurant along with Chosi but even got to hang out in the kitchen after hours as a special dessert was being prepared for you… by the waiter that your boyfriend had tried to assault— no, that your ex-boyfriend tried to assault. That felt much better, but still didn’t let the whole situation make any more sense.

‘And that wouldn’t even make the top ten of shit that’s happened around this place.’

‘I… am not sure wether to be relieved or disappointed.’ For an inexplicable reason, you thought you would be more memorable to him. However, would you have wanted that, seeing the actual circumstances under which that would be? Ugh.

As if he could read your mind, Sanji added in. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not planning on forgetting you anytime soon.’

‘I bet you say that to everyone.’ You rolled your eyes, to which he just smiled. ‘But really, I am sorry for what happened—especially to your suit.’

‘I care more about the noodles, honestly, don’t like seeing food go to waste—’ he drifted off with his thoughts before coming back up to the surface with another question, ‘speaking of noodles, where’d you meet this guy anyway?’

‘It’s complicated,’ you sighed, not wanting to burden him with your story, but from the eager attitude he was conveying as he managed his ingredients, he did not hold the same sentiment over it. ‘We had been friends for ages—out dads worked together—and it seemed, to everyone, apparently, like the natural progression of events that we would end up together.’

‘Everyone… except for you?’ he assumed, looking up at you from the counter space.

‘No, I mean, at first I thought so too, but over time… well, you saw it yourself. But by the time I had realised what a mess I had gotten myself into, it felt like I was already too late.’

‘How so?’ You heard the gentleness in his question like he was treading the topic lightly, not wanting to put any pressure on it or on you to answer.

‘Heard people talking he had been planning to propose.’ You shrugged it off. ‘But I doubt that will be happening anymore.’

‘What are you going to do now?’ The question came with that same carefulness but perhaps a bit more intrigue. You simply shrugged again.

‘Will probably have to find another ship to get back home on, as I can’t imagine he would want me on board with him.’ It was crazy you had not bothered to check but assumed that he had already taken off hours ago, leaving you behind to fend for yourself. ‘And then, if I see him again… well, not much else I can do but officially dump his ass.’

‘So I shouldn’t feel bad for what I did?’ He stopped what he was doing as he waited for an answer.

‘Absolutely not. I can’t thank you enough for doing that.’

The both of you shared sheepish smiles before you watched him work silently for a few more minutes. The tarte frames came out of the oven in a beautifully crisp golden tone, and he mixed the chocolate into a thick mousse while the rosy syrup lay back to cool off. While the two of you remained quiet, the kitchen was anything but that as his utensils clinked around the pans. You thought back to a few hours ago and how the silence at your table had been anything but this. You had sat in a cold dread, waiting for something to snap until it inevitably did. However, you sat back comfortably here, happily watching as Sanji focused on his work.

It really was his element. While you thought the man had been exemplary at waiting tables, it was nothing compared to the ease at which he performed here. Each move he made seemed like second nature to him.

‘Do all the waiters here know how to cook like this?’ you inquired, leaning in to see how he filled the pastries up, hands in a tight grip on the piping bag.

‘The ones that are cooks do,’ he chuckled.

‘You’re a cook?’ you blinked, ‘then what were you doing out there earlier?’

‘Ah, the old shitbag that runs this place likes to torture me and send me off to do the waitin’.’ He readjusted his hold on the piping bag, briefly stopping to wipe his hand on the towel tucked between his belt.

‘Doesn’t that bother you? I’m sure you’d much rather work here.’ You certainly would. Some people could be real assholes to serve… your former date being a prime example. But Sanji simply laughed it off.

‘Nah, not when beautiful women are out there waiting to be served.’ He stopped to look up at you with a shit-eating grin, and the unseriousness dripping off of it made you blush, smile along with him and push him back by his shoulder before you would do something else much more irrational. Perhaps a bit too hard, as he lost his balance, only finding it on the counter, exactly where the piping bag had been left behind. His palm fell right over the ending, bursting out the mousse in an unfortunate mess, spilling all over him and the counter.

‘Oh no,’ you said, covering your mouth but not the giggles from it, ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘You think it’s funny, don’t you?’ He couldn’t keep his smile, but you shook your head harshly. ‘You’ll pay for this,’ he pointed his hand, covered in chocolate, at you. Several thoughts ran through your mind initially, but you managed to suppress most of them, opting for simply running your finger over the back of his hand where most of the mousse had spilt and giving it a taste.

‘That is really good.’ you hummed at the sweetness. Sanji stood back, somewhat frozen at what you had done, but quickly thawed out with a few blinks.

‘Well, what else did you expect?’ He wiped the rest of his hand on the towel at his side, ‘and I’ll have you know it’s rude to eat the food before it’s done. Takes away from the experience.’

‘I’m sorry,’ you pouted, ‘but I promise you I am still very much enjoying this whole experience.’

‘You better.’ Sanji said, taking the baking tray and putting it back in the oven for the last few minutes. With the oven door shut, he sighed and leaned against the counter opposite you. ‘Now we wait.’

‘How long exactly?’

‘In a rush, are we?’ He glanced at you from behind his hair, and the question made you heat up in the face. Because how could you explain to this practical stranger that you were feeling the opposite of what he insinuated. That you did not want this night to end at all. That being here with him, even if you were just waiting for a damn tart to bake, you were having more fun than you had had in weeks, if not longer. So, all you did was simply shake your head again.

‘It will be just a few minutes, and then gotta let it cool for a bit.’ He reassured you. That is when you noticed the bowl he had mixed the mousse in, mostly scraped clean while filling up the piping bag, but even the best chef can’t always scrape every last ounce out. Now, you might not have had any particular urge to leave any time soon, but you certainly were hungry, and having tasted just how delicious Sanji’s food was, you couldn’t help but lean in to get another little taste.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ He said, bemused, reaching to stop you from taking another swipe of mousse onto your finger. His hand gently grabbed your wrist, but he had been too late. When he caught you, you had your hand directly over your lips, looking up at him. He glared down at you in a daring manner.

You licked the chocolate off yourself as innocently as possible without bursting into laughter.

‘I can’t believe you’d do that.’ He took a step forward, nearly closing the gap between you. The presence of his body, so close to yours, almost touching, reverberated off of you with warmth, and suddenly, you felt the breath you had taken to be stuck in the back of your throat. ‘Did you not listen to anything I just said?’ His breath was hot against your skin, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought it was a direct source of the skip in your heart.

‘Of course I did.’ You ignored the fast beating of your heart and the feeling like it might just burst out of your chest as you took him by the arm to give you some space and let you slide down the counter back onto your feet. ‘Something about experience and…’ you slid out from between him and the counter, and as you did so, swooped by the bowl of mousse with your finger one last time. ‘I forgot what else.’

‘You are unbelievable,’ Sanji reached for your hand, but you were quicker and manoeuvred around him and from his arm’s reach. Taunting him with the mousse, you walked around the work counters, and he, happily playing along, followed suit.

Like children, you ran around the kitchen, with him not far behind you, trying to catch you until he finally did, picking you up by the waist. Unintentionally, a squeak of a shriek came out of you, followed by both your laughs. You kept on laughing until you heard something outside the door. Heavy footsteps, freezing you both in your place until they moved on by. That is when you noted the time. Hours past midnight.

‘Are we even allowed to be in here at this time?’ You whispered as if the person who had walked by would suddenly be able to hear you.

‘Of course,’ Sanji said with confidence, but his expression juxtaposed this with signs that you could only read as “absolutely fucking not.” chances were that if you were caught in the kitchen at this time of night, you would be shot on the spot by, what did Sanji call him, the old shitbag.

But before you could run away in fear of getting caught, it was Sanji’s turn to take you by surprise. As you stood in his arms, he leaned in and wrapped his mouth around your finger, sucking all the chocolate right off. You could feel his tongue move down your knuckles and back up until he released it, leaving you stunned and wide-eyed.

‘I thought it’s rude to eat a dish before it’s done,’ you managed to sputter out.

‘So you did listen,’ he smiled, ‘but you might want to know that a good cook always tastes their dishes in the process, and that… was delicious.’

‘Are you always this humble about your cooking?’ Your heart was basically in your throat at this moment.

‘Wasn’t talking about the food,’ his tone was deep, sultry, as he leaned closer. ‘But care to give me another taste?’

Your breath was officially hitched in your throat, unable to breathe properly, as you stared at him, body flooding with heat and need for him. As words escaped you, you nodded lightly and leaned in as he did the same, meeting your lips in the middle with a kiss.

As soon as it happened, his arms found their spot on your side as you fastened yourself on his shoulders. It was nothing like you expected it to be. For a man spending his entire nights and days in the kitchen, he felt nothing like it. You could smell the cologne, taste the cigarettes and the fresh mint he used to conceal the former. His tender but firm touch held you in your place as he pressed closer.

There was a force to it, but nothing that you didn’t feel in yourself to copy as the need for him boiled deep inside you.

Your hand moved slowly up to his cheek, over to his hair at the nape of his neck.

One of his hands, in the meantime, had found your thigh, pulling it up over his leg as he squeezed your soft flesh, but before giving you a chance to even react to this new position and all its implications, Sanji moved.

Pulling apart, leaving your lips to be the last piece he detached from as he kept your bottom lip between his teeth lightly, he apologised, ‘Excuse me for a moment.’ because while you might have forgotten all about the world around you, he had still been keeping track of the tartelettes that were baking down in the oven.

He pulled the tray of pastries out with a white tea towel, practically throwing it down on the counter, discarding it with a metal clang.

‘Now we wait for them to cool,’ he explained as he got back to you.

‘And what were you planning on doing in the meantime,’ you pulled him back in by the blue ascot tie.

With his lips ghosting over yours, he half-whispered, ‘I might have a few things in mind,’ and with it, kissed you again. While the kiss itself was not much different, with that same intensity and passion running through both of you as before, now you were very much aware of what was to follow. If it wasn’t your need that spurred you on, then it was Sanji and his eagerness. Despite his chef’s uniform and the navy apron, you could feel him grow harder against you as the kiss continued. A moan escaped you as his lips travelled down to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses one by one until he reached a spot that was more sensitive than others. The simple touch sparked a fuse inside you.

As he continued playing with your sensitive skin, he led both your bodies to one of the empty tables at the side of the room, pressing you right against the edge and locking you in between it and him.

Without needing him to say a word, you understood exactly what you needed to do and climbed on top of the table, spreading your legs to make space for him right in the middle.

Your dress might have hiked up slightly over your thighs, but it wasn’t enough for Sanji, who took it upon himself to pull it up.

‘I hope you don’t mind me saying’,’ he smiled as he kissed the corner of your mouth and as his hand reached the top of your leg, ‘but I had been thinkin' about this ever since I saw you.’

‘Me too,’ you exhaled deeply, letting the confession sink in. Maybe Chosi was right after all. Now, with him out of the picture, you could admit that something had been there from the start, from the moment you caught a glimpse of the waiter cook. And if it wasn’t for all the shit that occurred that day, maybe you would have felt a twinge of guilt as you guided Sanji’s hand between your legs. If you had not shut that chapter behind you, perhaps you would have felt bad, but any insecurities of that disappeared as Sanji began to toy with your core. His slender fingers grazed slowly over your slit, putting enough pressure on it to make you arch your back in need of more.

‘Already so needy,’ he smirked. ‘And I barely touched you.’

‘Touch me then,’ you said with gritted teeth.

‘Don’t need to tell me twice.’ His fingers moved up in pace and barely went any deeper, keeping you on the edge of satisfaction. ‘And what would madame like me to do?’ He threaded his movements, and you were growing impatient with the teasing.

‘Fuck me,’ ready to hear his next question, you added, ‘I don’t care how.’

His grin only grew wider at your words. Much to your dislike, he pulled his hand away to place both at your thighs, pressing his fingers into your skin and using that as leverage to make more space for himself in between.

‘As madame wishes.’ He spoke softly right below your ear as he descended onto his knees.

The kiss he left over your panties already invoked a tremble through your entire body, and it only got worse from there, in the best sense. He pushed your underwear aside and took his time giving you all his attention and care. Kissing your core deeply until his nose pressed up against you. His tongue licked up your juices like a starving man until your eyes rolled back, and you felt weak.

The table you were perched on was empty, so you only had Sanji to hold on to. At first, you reached for his shoulder, but it was just not high enough for you to find support. As you tried to look for it, Sanji reached for your hand and brought it up to the side of his head for you to tangle your fingers in his light locks. Before you even managed to grab onto them, simply letting your nails trace over his hair, you felt the vibrations of his moans strike you. Another deep blow to your senses pulled you further down to the edge. Closer and closer until you couldn’t take it anymore. Your grip on his hair tightened as your breath grew sporadic.

‘Fuck, fuck,’ you moaned, voice filled with desperation for a release, and one that Sanji would be more than pleased to give you… just not quite yet. As he pulled away from you, you deflated with the feeling of a ruined climax and the urge to pull him back to finish what he had started, but all you could do was whimper in protest.

‘Don’t worry,’ he kissed your knee softly, ‘all in good time. I promise to take good care of you,’ and with that, he rose back up to his feet, untying his apron.

‘That was good,’ your chest still moving up and down heavily as you caught your breath. ‘Really good.’

‘It pleases me to hear that,’ he said as he threw the apron aside onto the ground. ‘And believe me, I would love to go back for seconds—’

‘Does all your pillow talk stem from restaurant jargon?’ you interrupted jokingly.

‘You laugh, and yet you’re the one begging me to fuck you.’ God, he was so cocky, with the way he stood there in front of you, his head tilted sideways, and his lip turned up in a grin that told you he knew he was right. ‘So, please, let me.’ His hand was already on his belt buckle.

There was no time or need for either of you to undress. With your dress hiked up to your hips, he already had easy enough access, and once his belt was loose, it only took a few sharp pulls for you to release him from the material restraints.

‘You ready?’ he asked.

‘For the love of god,’ grabbing him by the arm, you pulled him in, ‘stop talking and just take me.’ You knew he was about to respond, but before he got the chance to make another absurdly silly but nonetheless flirtatious comment, you shit him up with a kiss. Just like that, the two of you melted into one another. Sanji made himself comfortable between you and let his lips wander down to your neck again, to that one spot he found that drove you crazy.

He kept kissing your neck as he finally slid into you. The two feelings made your body go weak, melting you into a puddle of burning nerves as he spread your walls and filled you up perfectly.

First, he moved slowly, but with each thrust, he sped up more and more, putting more force into it until you were both shaking with ferocity, and the table underneath you scratched over the planks it stood upon. The sound of the tortured floor was the only thing covering up both your moans and that of the messy skin-to-skin contact.

While he practically pounded into you, you reached for his hair again. There was just something about it: how messy you managed to make it with a few tugs and brushstrokes. All of it, how he acted and reacted, it was all in response to you. Just how he made you see stars with each move he made.

‘Feels so good, fuck,’ he groaned over your shoulder as you grabbed for his, pulling him closer if possible. He had your legs pressed against his sides. He shook his head quickly, letting the hair flick out of his sight, but the attempt was poor as the lock quickly fell back over his eye despite his efforts.

‘San–’ you moaned, ‘Sanji–’

‘That’s right,’ he might as well have been kissing you, so close were his lips to you, but instead, the only thing you truly felt was his hot breath on your skin as he kept going deeper and harder. ‘Gonna come for me? His voice got even deeper the longer he kept going. At the sound of it, your nails dug into his back, his striped shirt being the only thing saving him from possibly some nasty scratches, but it seemed to only spur him on more. ‘I–’ you gasped out as you felt him hit the deepest part of you.

‘Yeah?’

‘I’m close, fuck.’ the pit in your stomach tightened, your muscles strained as you tried to hold on to that feeling of pleasure he brought over you. The tension built up like a band being pulled tighter and tighter, ready to snap at any moment; he had you in his grip, waiting to let go of you at the exact right time. All you needed was that touch, just the right one in the right spot.

You could feel it all. Could feel just how close he was himself as his thrusts got sloppier, and his breathing grew heavier and rougher between his words. ‘Yeah, c’mon. I know you can do it. Come all over my cock. ‘’s gonna feel so good, I promise you.’

The encouragement might not have been necessarily what did it. It was more like a concoction of things that all led to this precise moment when ecstasy overtook your body and washed over you like a hot flash. Sanji was not far behind you, riding his high as he ensured you got to yours. His movements slowed down as you felt the cum slick down your thighs. While you both caught your breath, it became quiet once more.

It took you a bit longer to catch up on air in your lungs, and so while you closed your eyes and focused on your breathing, you heard Sanji zip his trousers back up and lightly walk across the aisle between the workstations. When you opened your eyes again, he was making his way back to you already, a handful of paper towels in his hand.

Despite the burn you already felt in your sore muscles, you spread your legs one last time to give him access to clean you up. His soft touches to your sensitive core now were in stark contrast to what he had been doing to you moments ago, but the cold of the damp towel brought a nice sense of comfort.

‘You think you can stand up for me?’ he asked gently, and the little words in that tone were enough to make your heart flutter.

‘Yeah, I think so.’ You said, but that was quickly proven wrong when your knees buckled almost immediately when your feet touched the ground. It was only because of the way that Sanji held your arm that you had not completely toppled over.

‘Woah, alright.’ He smiled, never letting go of you, ‘How about we just sit for now.’ Slowly, he guided you to sit on the ground, back against a cabinet. ‘Water?’

You nodded in agreement. The question had made you realise just how parched you were.

‘Still, sparkling, mineral?’

‘Surprise me.’ You said through a tired smile at the reference to how he waited on you earlier, but moments later, you reminded yourself of your preference, ‘just not sparkling! It just tastes foul.’

‘Anything but sparkling water, coming right up.’ He moved around the room to pour you some surprise water, and while he did so, you pressed your face into your hands, laughing at the absurdity of it all. Less than 12 hours ago, you had been walking up the deck, arm in arm, with your good-for-nothing boyfriend, soon-to-be fiance. Now you sat on the ground of a restaurant kitchen, with no idea where said–now ex–-boyfriend was in the world, coming down from one of the best orgasms you had ever received… all by the hand of a stranger. A handsome stranger at that. One that you could imagine seeing much more of in the future, but it was all just too silly.

And you were tired. And hungry.

‘Voila,’ Sanji appeared in front of you with impeccable timing, a large ice-cold looking glass in one hand, filled with ice cubes and cucumber, and two plates in the other hand. The rose and chocolate meringue tartes look particularly inviting. ‘Thought you might finally want to try one,’ he said as he handed you a plate and fork.

‘I swear, you’re a godsend.’ No matter in how much need you were of a drink, the sight of the dessert made your mouth water.

‘Ah, just a little something sweet for—’

‘If you’re going to say what I think you’re going to say, I will shove this tarte in your face.’ One could only endure so much of this sappy flirting, even if you found it very endearing. Sanji shut his mouth and sat beside you, poking his fork into his portion.

The two of you ate quickly but still took enough time to appreciate the flavours that oozed out of the pastry and its filling. The moan you made as it all reached your tastebuds might have been more pornographic than any sound you made while he had been deep inside you.

‘Mmm, this is delicious,’ you said through another bite. The praise brought a huge smile to the cook’s lips. ‘Seriously, thank you. For everything.’

‘It’s been my pleasure,’ he spoke in a way that almost made you think he was getting shy on you. That felt unlikely, but you let him process it all for a moment as you kept eating.

Only once you had eaten everything off your plate did you ask your next question of the evening. ‘How did you know I would like this?’

‘It’s a chef’s best trait,’ he pulled the fork out of his mouth with a pop, ‘to be able to read their customers well. To be able to tell what they like or dislike; to know them better than they know themselves.’

‘But how?’ With intrigue, you moved closer to him. He had been leaning against the same cupboard as you, one of his knees raised up and an arm hanging casually over it. His hair was still messy, falling over his eye. ‘How could you tell I would enjoy this specific dish?’

The one unobstructed eye fell over you, looking up and down over your body as his mischievous smile reappeared. ‘It felt fitting.’

‘How so?’ You blinked, confused as to what he meant.

‘Sweet, decadent and hot; what’s there not to like? I mean—’ he leaned in over his arm to kiss you, feather-light. Then, he hummed as he pulled back. ‘It is an absolutely divine combination.’

Your cheeks burned up for what felt like the millionth time that evening, and you could not dare keep looking at him as he stared down at you with that innate hunger. That kind that could only be filled with one thing, and it just so happened to have wholly exhausted you.

‘Is this still all part of that special of yours?’

To this, Sanji shrugged, ‘Depends.’

‘On what?’

‘On how long you want to keep me around.’ He scraped some leftover mousse from his plate, licking it off his fork.

‘I think for a while,’ you admitted. Yeah, you definitely hadn’t had enough of him yet.

‘Well, then there’s so much more I can do for you, madame.’

the end

thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this story, please consider reblogging and commenting-either through the comments, in a reblog or through my inbox <3 to hear your thoughts on my writing means the world to me and really is a huge help in motivation to keep going.

you can find my other writing here

#opla sanji #opla sanji x reader #sanji x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece x reader #sanji fanfiction #sanji fanfic #sanji #sanji vinsmoke #sanji vinsmoke x reader #one piece live action #one piece live action fanfiction #opla fanfiction #opla #opla x reader #opla x y/n #sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x y/n

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itsmearia01 · 5 months

Text

Past Love || Prolog

Various! Yandere! Jujutsu kaisen x Sukuna's past wife! Itadori's best friend! F! Reader

A/N : English is not my first language, sorry if there are some wrong words. (btw, here Sukuna is considered as king and you considered as the queen) And there are some OCs that I added to add more drama. Hope you like it!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Chapter 1

Series summary : You always get the same nightmare over and over every night. You feel annoyed but can't do anything about it. On the other hand, your best friend who suddenly becomes the vessel of a cursed king brings your nightmares to reality. You don't know what happened but the people around you started acting strangely.

Series warnings : Non-con, dub-con, yandere, stalking, kinks, gaslighting, blackmail, overtism, smut, NSFW, Minors DNI, all character 18+ (but first years still first year, try to make sense), sex, rough sex, oral sex, dom/sub dynamics, blood, manipulation, corruption, mind break, forced relationship, yandere character being their own warning, mind control, possessive, kidnapping. ⚠️Jujutsu kaisen character was not my original, credit to Gege Akutami as original author! There's a few OC as my originally made character. If you don't like/ you hate this kind of story, please go.

(Y/N) (L/N) or now known as Ryomen Sukuna's wife. That night was a wedding between you and Sukuna. Your father, who is the only parent you have now, is the figure behind all of this. It all started with him make you engaged to hundred year old demon when you were 12 years old. And now you are 18 years old, which means it's time to get married.

Many important people come, make you have to smile throughout the event. And when it all ends, that night you ended up at your bedroom alone. You reflect on all the things happened.

They think you're happy, they all think you love him. All this time you have to act like you can't live without Sukuna. You have to act like you love him. No, of course you don't love him. You admit he's quite hot, but he's not your type. You don't like mean, psychopathic men. You like gentle and loving men.

Your father always forced you to be obsessive with Sukuna and act like you love him. So you always hurting women who tease him because your father told you to. But you can't do much if Sukuna wants those women. So you are the antagonist.

You're 100% sure he's with one of his mistresses now. As the first wife of Ryomen Sukuna, everyone is sorry for you because he likes to sleep with other women. But you don't mind it, you don't care. But THEY CARE, those who think you love him.

"What should I say to your majesty?"

You hear the waiters talking behind the wall, you start to focus on listening.

"Did lord Sukuna slept with his lover?" Ask someone you recognize as your personal guard now. "Yes. I have to immediately bring this dinner to queen (Y/N)."

Not long after the conversation ended, your bedroom door was opened. "excuse me queen, this is your dinner." He said while put down the tray of your dinner. "Thank you, did he slept with his mistress?" you ask.

The butler raised his head, looking at you with pitying eyes. "I-That's right, Your Highness." he answered nervously. You sighed and told him to leave. Before leaving the room, he look at you with pity once again.

Several months passed, nothing special. He always looks at you disgusted, because he also thinks you're obsessed with him. When you meet Sukuna, he always with his concubines and those concubines always grin at you.

You have to be patient, this is for your family.

That day, he suddenly call you and everyone to the great hall. He was with a woman as usual, but something was different.

"I want to make this women, as my first wife." He said. Everyone was shocked. Because if he wants to make that woman his first wife, it means that she will replace your position. You saw the woman smiling innocently, but you can see her grin.

Because Sukuna wanted to make that woman his first wife, all support for you disappeared and turned to that woman. After your father investigated the woman named Yurika Sato, a illegitimate daughter of a lowly noble who went bankrupt.

The thing that made he attracted to her was because of her innocence. Sukuna really likes innocent women and really hates rude women like you. And just as you'd think, Sukuna will eventually replace you and take Yurika as his first wife.

But you realize this is your chance to escape. You tell your father that you will run away and he agrees. Just in time for the wedding between Sukuna and Yurika, you packed up your things and leave a farewell note. Finally, after everything Sukuna did to you from betrayal, his harsh words, and other acts of cruelty that you received from him, you are finally free.

You and your father still communicating by letter and he bought you a house that is not big but still very nice. Now you live in a village and sell cakes you make by yourself.

Until one day something special happens in your life. At that time you were walking around in the market suddenly you hit bye someone and fell. When you look at that person it was a tall handsome man.

"Sorry, I'm really sorry." He says. Reaching out his hand to help you up. And that's when you were get to know to him. It was strange that an aristocratic family name was used by a commoner like him. You were suspicious, but you were a person who believed easily when he said that he completely unrelated to nobles, he happened to share the same last name.

He work as a doctor in this village.

Months have passed and now you know him better, you start developed romantic feelings for each other.

One day he proposed to you and you happily accepted. It's been a month since you were married and you read a letter from your father explaining that the capital in chaos. There are so many evil curses attacking everything around.

You want to go there, but hampered by your body feeling unwell. You keep feeling nauseous and vomiting, your menstruation hasn't come since a month ago. You finally checked secretly with other doctors in the village. Unfortunately, it took a few days to find out.

Three days have passed and there is still no news about the results. Due to getting another letter from your father and worrying about him, you finally decide to go to the capital that day without your husband knowing.

But you don't realize that will be where it ends. You didn't find your father at your family's residence, and you immediately went to Sukuna's residence. You find your father fighting a curse and behind him is Sukuna. When your father neglects to help the others, sukuna who somehow looks very weak is attacked by a special grade curse.

Time went fast, you ran trying to protect Sukuna's body and in the end the curse attack hit your stomach. You lay down weakly and heard screams of your father, Sukuna, and your husband who somehow were there. You see them approaching you and screaming for someone to heal you. And what surprised you the most was when your husband shouted, "SHE'S PREGNANT!"

It's too late. You was already unconscious and fell asleep forever.

_____

"HAH- HAH- HAH."

You wake up from your sleep, the dream is again in your mind. You quickly looked at the time and realized that you would be late for school. You hurry up and get ready for school. Go downstairs and find your father and sibling eating in the dining room.

You grabbed a loaf and rushed out of the house ignoring your father's screams telling you to come back.

And this is your life now, (Y/N) (L/N) the only one daughter of a rich family which has one of the most successful companies in the world.

On the way to school, you keep imagining the dreams you've had every day since you were 12 years old until now. No matter how much you deny it, You know that it's not just a dream but an incident that happened in the past. Maybe it was your past life.

To be continued

A/N : Hello! This is the end of the prologue, once again English is not my first language, btw your family won't be featured much in the next chapters, so it's okay if you don't have any siblings to imagine in the story. Sorry if there are any wrong words. I feel it's too long for prolog, so I'm sorry but hope you like this story and waiting for the first chapter! Banners credit to @cafekitsune !

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melodymay-k1tty · 10 months

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Hello...

Well, could you do a scenario where the S/O should take care of some drunk OC and they declare their love to her or something...? Well, actually that would be cool with a Fem!Reader, but do as you wish, it's your choice!🫠💕 Btw I would also admire if in Part 1 you could include Sabo and Corazon in particular, I would really like to see them in this situation lmao😵‍💫

SABO ★ CORAZON ★ SANJI ★ LAW: DECLARING HIS LOVE FOR S/O AFTER GETTING DRUNK.

A/N: Well, I'm new to this scenario thing, and I'm not that big a fan of requests, cuz I can't write about something if I don't feel it in my heart... But I think I can manage about it. So here it is. Thank you so much for all your love, care and support! 🤧🩷

Age Rating: +12

Content Warning: consumption of alcoholic drinks. kiss description. maybe a little angst.

Genres: fluffy. headcanons (scenario).

Characters: sabo x fem!reader. corazon x fem!reader. sanji x fem!reader. law x fem!reader.

Word Count: 2.2k

SABO (Being the user of Mera Mera no Mi🔥)

• You are a high-ranking officer in the Revolutionary Army, Sabo's right-hand. After a successful mission of the two of you in Dressrosa, he decided to invite you to drink something in a bar, which was located on an island nearby. You accepted.

• You're not a big fan of alcohol, but Sabo didn't know that. The blonde guy, on the other hand, was a big fan of alcoholic drinks, and used to consume it whenever he was successful in his missions (which is quite often).

• He sat at the counter bar after you two comes there, and you did the same. Sabo called for a waiter who came immediately. He placed his order, which was beer, and asked you to order yours.

“I'll have a non-alcoholic strawberry cocktail with condensed milk, please.” You talk while the waiter writes it down on his pad of paper.

“Alright, ma'am and sir. I will bring your order soon.” He speaks after withdrawing from there.

Sabo looked at you in a somewhat strange way. “You don’t drink alcohol?”

“No, I like sweet drinks more.” You speak while he stares at you seriously, but he soon opens a smile. “Cutie.” He smiles like a know-it-all.

You looked at him strangely, and he immediately retaliated. “I meant, you look like a cute little girl acting like that.” He makes fun of your face a little.

“Sabo...” You look at him with hate and you were ready to attack him. But the waiter interrupts them.

“Your order is almost ready. In the meantime, would you like to fill out this survey?” He asks while handing over a sheet with some questions.

“What is it about?” You ask. “Can't you read, little girl?” Sabo laughs and makes fun of your face some more. “It's a survey about couples, and here it also says that couples who respond will get a discount of up to 50% on the amount spent at the bar.” He says with his knowing smile.

“But we're not a cou...” Before you can finish your sentence, Sabo puts his hand over your mouth, preventing you from speaking. “Will we really get that discount?” He asks the waiter, with his usual smile.

“Of course, sir. Just complete the survey with your girlfriend, and you'll get 50% off. It's a data collection survey for an article that will be released on Valentine's Day, in the island's local newspaper.”

“I understand. I'll do it as soon as possible then.” Sabo speaks enthusiastically to the waiter who leaves. The blondie starts marking off some answers on the survey, like we're really dating.

You had already understood that Sabo was a cheapskate and didn't like to spend money on others. So you decided to just leave it down.

He finished marking the answers, and shortly after that, your drinks arrived.

You two started drinking, but Sabo got too carried away. He ordered more and more glasses of beer, one after another. Maybe he was thinking that 50% off could become 100%...

And when you least realized it, he was out of his mind. “Y/N, let's go home soon” he grumble drunkenly, collapsing on top of you.

His sleepy voice showed just how much alcohol had already knocked him out. You saw no option but to take him for home.

“Okay, just let me pay the bill first” Apparently, the account is left for you. But thinking on the bright side, at least a discount you would have.

Sabo couldn't even pay attention to what you said. You then placed him gently propped up in the chair, and got up to go pay the bill.

After that, you put him on your shoulders and left the bar with him.

“How heavy he is...” You complain while carrying he with difficulties.

He had a stupid smile on his face, he looked like a retard. You looked at him strangely.

“What it is?” You asked arching your eyebrow. Sabo acted strange after your question, he turned red and sparks started to come out of his logia body.

He smirks again, his cheeks getting redder.

“Y/N, I love you…” His stupid smile gave it all away. You were in shock and ended up letting go of him, letting him fall to the ground.

“AAUGH!” he lets out a groan of pain as he strokes his own head. “Hmph. Y/N, why are you so mean to me?” he says this as he gets up, and his drunken body begins to stagger.

“I'm sorry, Sabo...” You say as you help him up. “Y-you… Are you serious?” you widen your eyes.

“Y/N, I want to sleep with you today and always...” he closed his eyes and was about to fall asleep. You leaned against a bench, pulling Sabo with you, and make a phone call for Dragon, who went to get you and took you to your house.

You two went to your rooms, and you went to sleep thoughtfully.

The next day you woke up and went to the kitchen for breakfast, bumping into Sabo, who blushed violently when he saw you. But now, in an embarrassed way.

“H-hello, I-I'm sorry about what happened yesterday...” He speaks awkwardly. “It's okay, Sabo-kun...” You smile sweetly.

You two was in a compelling silent for a while. Until he decides to say something. “I think we need to talk… I need to clear something up.”

“Sure, what is it?” You looked fine on the outside, but on the inside, your heart was beating hard with fear of what he might say to you.

“Dragon told me everything. I know what I say to you in yesterday night, and about that... I need to tell you that it's really true.” Now he was staring at you. And again, sparks were shooting out of his body, his face was red and he was probably really fear of what you might say too.

“Sabo-kun...” You murmur.

“Okay, I understand that you might not feel the same about me. But I would like you to know that, although.” He says as him leave the kitchen, but you pull him by the arm.

“S-Sabo...” You look deep into his eyes, and he looks into yours. Your bright eyes never stopped looking at each other. “I love you too.” You said as you approached him. The blondie approached you too, shifting his gaze between your eyes and your lips.

He placed his big hand on your face, and kissed you passionately but calmly. Your lips glued to each other, were making your bodies approach too, and in a matter of moments, you and Sabo were glued and your kiss was getting even more intense and passionate.

“I am the happiest man in the world to know that, my little girl.” He speaks after parting with you, stroking your hair and smiling cutely at you. “But I love you more...”

Finally you could understand, that he didn't do the couple survey to get a discount, but because he loves you and, in fact, wanted you like his girlfriend.

CORAZON ♠️

• You were part of the Donquixote Pirates, led by the infamous Doflamingo. While you were still living in Spider Miles, the whole family was gathered at the table and having dinner, when you felt someone poke you under the table.

• You looked to the side, seeing Corazon's serene face disguise as he lit a cigarette. He had left a note on top of your thighs.

• You pocketed the note and politely left the table, getting Doflamingo's permission. You went to your room and read the note. On it was written “You said you wanted to get to know me better. We're going out to eat today, I know of a wonderful restaurant nearby. I hope you isn't full yet.” You opened a silly smile when you read the note, and ran to change your clothes, and soon to meet him discreetly outside. You climbed out your bedroom window and left, going to meet Corazon.

He was leaning against the wall outside the house. As always in silence, lighting his cigarette. When he realized you were there, he stared fixedly at you, and let his cigarette go out carelessly.

“Wh-what is?” You asked embarrassed as you crossed your legs because of your momentary shyness.

“Nothing” He answered coldly and walked away, and you followed him. You felt honored that you were the only person who knew Corazon could speak. It was like you were special.

You two finally arrived at the restaurant, beautifully decorated with artifacts of dragons and other ancient legends creatures. The food smelled divine.

“Hmm” You mutter at that delicious smell. “Maybe you really were right when you said this restaurant is wonderful, Corazon” You say smiling.

“You can be sure I don't make mistakes when it comes to food” He replied confidently and sat down at a table in the corner of the restaurant, with your company.

The waiter came to serve us with a menu in hand. “Good night, sir and ma'am. What will you want for today? Our menu is full of original and exclusive recipes only from here, but we also have traditional ones” He says as he places the menu on the table.

“I'll have the dragon meat in white sauce, with vegetables and all the extras. For a drink, I would like a red wine and a white wine” Corazon spoke without even thinking twice, making you speechless.

“Right, sir” The waiter takes your order. “And Ma'am, what will you want?” he asks you, while Corazon looks at you waiting for your answer.

“T-the same as him. But instead of wine, I would like a melon juice” You say with a little embarrassment, for not ordering something fancier.

“Alright, your order will arrive within 30 minutes” The waiter speaks after bowing and leaving.

You felt Corazon's heavy gaze on you. “What do you want to know about me?” He asks suspicious.

You were intimidated by his look, but you answered him. “I just wanted a friend. Sometimes I feel really lonely around here... And looking at Doffy's face really isn't one of the best hobbies” He looked convinced by your answer. "I understand. In that case, I'm sorry to tell you, but I can't be a friend.”

“N-no? Why?” You ask incredulously.

He gives a blank look and then lights his cigarette. “It's complicated to explain to you, but it's better that way. We can’t have any kind of bond.”

You give him a sad and downcast look. “I see, it's okay.”

And so, you talk about friendship ends there, until you two talk about the crew matters, and the food finally arrives.

“Hmm, wow! It smells delicious. I've never tasted dragon meat before. I thought they were extinct...” You say looking appetizingly at the food.

“Dragons are just hard to find, but they never went extinct” Corazon is as serious as ever as he begins to cut his meat and eat it. You could see a bright in his eyes as he tasted the meat, and the same happens to you.

After a few minutes, you realized that Corazon was acting strange. He'd started to get tipsy after drinking so many glasses of wine, and he'd even had a little whiskey too.

He got up abruptly, you ran to hold him when you saw that he had almost fallen to the ground. “C-corazon! Are you okay?" You ask worriedly as you hold in his shoulders.

His eyes were small and bloodshot, probably from the drunken effect of alcohol. “Y/N... I...” He tries to say something with difficulty.

“Please don't do that again!” You scold him. “You almost fell, you know how worried I was?” You ask angrily and as you look at him, you see that he is staring at you with twinkling eyes. He approached you slowly, when he finally pressed his lips to yours.

“Y/N, I… love you” He whispers after breaking away from the kiss. “But we can't be together, only for your own good” Tears start to fall from his eyes.

“W-what? What are you talking about, Cora-san?” you ask incredulously. “D-do you love me?” Your eyes widen. “And why are you saying that? We can not be together? What...?"

He doesn't say anything for a few seconds as the tears fall down his face. Until Corazon finally says something...

“I... I CAN'T!” He screams while crying. “I'm on a suicide mission, I'm going to die. I'm cheating on Doffy, Y/N” He keeps crying “I love you so much, and I don't know if you feel the same, but...”

“Ya, Corazon! I feel the same, I love you too!” You grab his shirt with your fingernails and speak with desperation.

Gently, he removes your hands from his shirt, and squeezes it affectionately. “I'm sorry, Y/N” He speaks with a look filled with sadness. “But I can't risk losing you or hurting you. We can't be together, and you can't get attached to me. Please… Just forget about it” He asks while stroking your chin with his thumb.

You start crying uncontrollably.

“I'm going to die... It's just a matter of time” He whispers sadly, which makes you cry even more, and hug him tightly, not wanting to leave him never ever.

He gently separates you from the embrace.

“But know that I will always love you, my sweet Y/N” Corazon finally smiles, a smile so big as the love you feel for him.

You will never accept your parting words.

SANJI 💐

(The rest I will continue later)

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daykinking · 21 days

Text

Brenna Lancaster - Introduction

[ Here's a written introduction to some of my intox OCs! A literal introduction. Was going to continue to write Brenna being all fucked up in church, but I just want to post already and I think 3.5k is enough for this sort of thing! Feel free to use my world or my characters as inspiration. ]

Brenna had started her day vibrating with excitement at 7am. It was her birthday, and she could finally drink.

Having grown up with somewhat of a helicopter mother, Brenna never had the inclination that she would be allowed a big bash for her and all her friends to get wasted. She would just have to wait until she moved out for that kind of fun.

Today was also Sunday. Usually she would still be asleep for another hour, but today, for her birthday, her parents were going to take her to the Waffle Factory for breakfast.

She had spent hours the night before planning out her outfit. Something subtly sexy that her parents wouldn't say was inappropriate for church. While she knew a plain black spaghetti strap would catch stink-eye from her mother, throwing a short jean jacket over the top would make it imperceptible, and then she could just take it off at church.

By the time her parents had awoken at 7:45 she was already done with her makeup and hair, and was sat on the living room sofa bouncing her leg rapidly.

"Good morniiiing!" she sang. "Ready to go?"

Her tired mother, Scheirre, put on her usual fake plastic smile, eyes closed so you couldn't read them, and said in an ultra-cheery, nearly infantilizing voice, "Ooh boy, someone's excited for breakfast, huh!"

"Excited for something," muttered her father Dylan as he miss-buttoned his gray flannel. "Can you wait 20 minutes honey?"

"Okay!" Brenna said, head heart and stomach twisting in anticipation. As the time moved by at a snail's pace, she opened Tumblr to distract herself, engaging with all the happy birthday asks and notifications. Some of her kink friends asked if she was drinking already. "Not yet, ugh, my parents won't hurry the fuck up. I want mimosas!"

"Are you going to go to church wasted?"

"I'm tryingggggguhhhhh!!"

Just the thought of sipping from a champagne glass in public made Brenna blush and squirm. Sure it'll be a little awkward with her parents there, but maybe they'll have a cute waiter.

---

The Waffle Factory was located on the west end of the mall, with an outdoor patio featuring cool-looking gas-powered fire pits. There was a bar outside as well.

Once indoors, there were 2 other groups ahead of them at the host stand. Brenna took this opportunity to excuse herself outside to vape.

The second she was back outside she made a beeline for the bar, whipping out her ID and slapping it down with a grin. The bartender, dark roots growing out under his bleach-yellow hair, turned his piercing blue eyes to the girl. He was easily six feet tall and very lanky, with only a smattering of tattoos on his arms, all weird lines and symbols. His white shirt hung loosely to his fatless form, hands of a skeleton wiping down the bartop with a rag. "How can I help you, miss?"

"I'd like a mimosa please!"

"Of course," he said, swooping up her ID. "Well happy birthday!"

"Thank you!" she cheesed, accepting the drink from him and taking a gleeful sip. She spied on the front door, taking a few more drinks. "Um...would you mind making this a little stronger?"

Without missing a beat, he topped off her glass with champagne. "Is this all going on your table's tab?"

Reflexively going to say "Yes," she stopped herself, realizing the talking-to she'd be in for if her parents knew how much she was about to spend on alcohol. "No, you can keep this card on file for me."

"I see." He accepted the card and opened a tab as she downed the rest of the mimosa. "Thank you!" Running up to the front door, she peeked in, seeing that her parents were still in line behind the other family.

"Actually can you pour me one more really quick?"

He smirked. "Sure thing, doll."

---

When she went back in to wait with her parents, Brenna felt wide-awake and alert. She knew the alcohol wasn't working quite yet, but it was still making her feel high just to think about how she was going to feel soon. Suddenly she tasted the champagne on her breath and felt a little self-conscious. Maybe it would kick in quicker since she hadn't eaten yet.

"Brenna," Scheirre said in a tone one would call to a dog, and snapped casually as she and Dylan followed the host to their booth. Brenna realized she'd been spacing out, glancing around as she followed as if she could see who could tell she had just drank.

No sooner had the host said "I'll be right back with your waters" than their server came up to the table.

"Salutations, my fine folks, my name is Axel and I will be your maitre-dee this morning. Can I get you started with some drinks?"

"Aren't you the bartender that was outside?" Dylan asked.

"Affirmative," said Axel with a slight bow at the waist.

Dylan rolled his eyes hard, trying not to outwardly cringe at this dude. "The wife and I are going to just stick with the waters." He gave a look to Brenna. "And it's our daughter's birthday today,"

"Happy birthday." "Thank you!"

"--so she's going to have her very first drink. Brenna, tell the nice man what you'd like."

She smiled sheepishly to the waiter, knowing they shared a secret. "I'd like a mimosa, please!"

Scheirre made a faux-scandalized face, reaching over to give her embarrassed daughter an awkward one-armed hug.

---

By the time Brenna had finished her glass, their food was already out. A mountain of waffles stood before her, covered in berries, syrup, and whipped cream. "Holy shit."

"Brenna!"

"Oops. Sorry." Her cheeks flushed red. Those words had kind of just come out on their own.

"Thank you very much," said Dylan to the server as he accepted his egg whites and arugula with chia seeds or whatever. Sheirre had ordered a plate of meat with a side of meat and some eggs, including the yolks from Dylan's whites.

"My deepest pleasure," said Axel with another bow. "Is there anything else you need? More drinks?"

"Just water again," Scheirre said without looking up.

"I'd like a coffee."

"And for the guest of honor?" he said, turning to Brenna. She felt her eyes vibrate. About to order another mimosa, she quickly calculated that her parents would get on her case.

"Orange juice please..."

"Of course." He flipped his little notepad shut, gave a bow once more, and left. Dylan muttered something about "smarmy weirdo."

The waffles were fantastic, but Brenna already regretted not ordering more alcohol. She didn't know when she was gonna get away with this again. She didn't drive; she didn't have any friends who drove. The nearest liquor store to the house was a 30 minute walk.

The restaurant around them was quite loud. Between bites as Brenna looked around, she was pretty excited to notice the slight drag in her vision. The lights left brief little tails like tadpoles, and all the colors in the room seemed brighter. This was Brenna's third time getting tipsy. But the first time outside of her bedroom.

As she took in the scenery she started smiling kind of stupidly, slightly agape, braces peeking out. Muted canned lights lit the place and the checkerboard walls were plastered with very talented artists' renditions of famous album covers reimagined with breakfast foods. Including actual non-parody album covers, like Flat As A Pancake, Whipped Cream and Other Delights, Viva Les Crepes, none of which Brenna recognized.

As she took a bite of her side of bacon Brenna noticed her skin felt a little numb. The drunken dullness of sense of touch had set in. She tried to keep her smile to herself as she crunched numbly on the bacon, taking only the best flavors from it.

Before long Axel had come back with the orange juice. She made sure to meet his eyes when she thanked him, hoping she looked doe-eyed enough. From his perspective she certainly did; her pupils were, as one might say, the size of the moon.

As she took a sip from the off-clear dappled plastic restaurant cup, she noticed...carbonation. She didn't feel it until it hit the tender flesh of her inner lip, and she was confused, so she took another sip.

Unable to differentiate between the taste of champagne already clinging to her tongue, or champagne in the cup, Brenna reasoned that it must just be really acidic juice, because it would have been odd and also a miracle if Axel had made her a mimosa in a plastic cup.

She washed down the second-to-last waffle with the rest of the drink, hitting her chest and releasing a loud belch.

"Brenna Nicole Lancaster!" Schierre shrieked.

"I'm sorry--"

"That wasn't ladylike, dear," said Dylan, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry!" She couldn't help but giggle, suppressing a second smaller burp and covering her mouth this time. "I didn't know it would be that loud."

"Honey."

"What?" she asked her mom, carefully trying to cut a bite out of her last waffle.

"Honey." It was a command. She wasn't obeying. "Look at me," she said sternly.

"Mm?" She locked eyes with her, or tried to. Fuck. Fuck. She had to keep refocusing. Oh fuck.

Scheirre's eyes narrowed. "Are you drunk?"

"I--w--I don't know, it's my first drink," she said, eyes darting around the pop art in the room.

"Did you get drunk before we left?"

"Wh--how would I do that? No!"

"Babe," Dylan said calmly to his wife, "maybe she's just a lightweight."

Scheirre raised her pale eyebrows over her green eyes, folding her freckled arms across each other as a curly red lock tumbled over her shoulder. "Our daughter's a lightweight, huh?"

"Okay. Calm down."

Brenna busied herself with the waffle, wanting so badly to talk to the horny people in her phone. But her mom was already being kind of controlling; for sure she'd snatch that phone right out of her hands again and try to look through it.

Right then, her savior came along. "Can I refill that for you?"

"Yes please!" she said, searching for his eyes again and beaming her gratefulness into his brain. He smiled back at her, then turned to Dylan. "Can I refill your coffee, sir?"

"Actually, I hate to say this...this basically tastes like water to me."

"Oh, so sorry, sir." He nodded, taking a step backward and catching Brenna's eye, holding it. "Should I make that stronger for you?"

"What? Of c--yes. Please," Dylan responded curtly.

Brenna gave him a secret thumbs up under the table. He winked at her quickly, bowed slightly, and left.

While waiting for her extra-extra mimosa, Brenna kicked her feet, pushing around the eggs left over in the syrup on her plate and taking a few bites here and there.

She felt the urge to burp again, but suppressed it as best she could. It worked...but then the bubbling in her chest turned into something else. She opened her mouth to ask for a sip of her mom's water, and instantly hiccupped, very hard. "Ough..."

Schierre stared hard at her, judging. Dylan silently passed the water cup over to her without looking.

"Thank yo--HIC--u...Ow."

Oh god, this was embarrassing. She was kind of regretting getting so drunk in front of her parents. Now she was gonna have to be in the car with them...

Thankfully her next cup of juice was here. She took maybe too eager of a drink. Braced for the carbonation, Brenna was suddenly hit with a sharp burn, instantly hacking a cough as she slapped the drink down to keep from spilling it. She pulled back from the table and spluttered, hoping that cute waiter wasn't looking. (He was.) Was that fucking...vodka?! (It was.)

"I thing I drang that too fas'" she said, alcohol stinging her sinuses. Upon taking a deep breath she hiccupped again, face bright red as ever, as she wiped drool from her chin.

She couldn't look her parents in the eyes, but she did need to finish her plate, and her screwdriver.

By the end of the meal, waiting on their check, Brenna found herself spacing out a lot, trying to feign conversation with her parents. Were she a little more sober, it might have been obvious to her that they were onto her.

Brenna waited to the car to announce that she really, really badly had to pee, and she couldn't hold it til church. She did this because she knew her parents wouldn't be willing to go back inside with her. Her dad handed her a 10. "Why don't you get yourself some coffee while you're in there."

"Thanks!" she said, not looking into it beyond another birthday gift. "Be right back."

Hopping back out of the car, Brenna stumbled a little, catching herself before colliding with the car parked next to them. She basically skipped inside the mall, feeling like she was swimming through the air as the colors of the parking lot swirled around her.

Brenna had been waiting to come to this mall for a long time. Her Tiktok feed was full of videos of people having the time of their lives, getting drunk and high as heaven. So despite never having been here before, she knew the Barbucks would be just to the left outside of Boredsom.

It never even crossed Brenna's mind but Dylan had wanted her to get coffee to sober up. It didn't cross Dylan's mind but they also serve alcohol at this particular coffee shop.

Time dilated as she stood in line, anxious that she was getting more sober by the second (she wasn't). Senses dulled, she could vaguely hear a group of very chatty women coming right toward her, but nothing registered until she was backed into by a 6-foot goddess of a woman. She knocked her right into the mall employee in line ahead of her. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" both Brenna and the woman who ran into her said at the same time. The employee Brenna had bumped into just giggled, twiddling one of her long, stick-straight pigtails.

"S'no worries," she said, smiling with her eyes closed.

"Hi, Claire," said the barista, "Grande mudslide?"

"Venti please?" she said with a sway.

The two chatted a while, or rather, Claire rambled to the barista while the order was rung in.

"I'm Stella," said the woman behind Brenna. "This is Cat," she said, revealing a much shorter and smaller woman with soft lavender-colored hair and big doe eyes.

"Hi! Sorry, we're super obnoxious," Cat apologized.

"It's okay. I'm Brenna."

"Brenna! I love that!" Cat cooed. She was wrapped tightly around Stella's waist. Brenna's eyeline came right to Stella's chest, which was impossible not to notice. She was wrapped tightly in a very short, strapless, ruched tube dress of gold tissue lame, the sort that looks trashy on almost any person in the entire world. She was pulling it off. Rather, filling it out. It made the gladiator flats work. She had a lot of artificially-blonde hair, stiff and wavy, pulled up in two half-pigtails on either side, an emulation of a lion's mane. The red gloss on her plumped lips was mesmerizing.

"I haven't seen you around," she said. "Have you been here before?"

"No, actually, it's...it's my birthday," Brenna replied, barely able to contain her excitement.

"OH MY GOD NO WAY!" The two women burst into celebration, a mixture of shouting and squealing. "Star!" Stella said to the girl behind the counter, "Whatever Brenna orders is on me."

"Oh my gosh, that's so sweet of you, you don't have to do that."

Stella waved a dismissive hand and nodded to Star, who then looked to Brenna.

"Oh, uh...I'm sorry. I wasn't looking at the menu..."

"You like sweet stuff, don't you," Cat said, clocking her instantly. "Get her a Bailey's slushy."

"Ooh, great choice."

Brenna thanked them all and stepped to the side to wait for her order. Clearly Stella and Cat knew this mall very well, and the workers here. Stella's voice was very loud, and also very slurred, so it was hard to make out what she was saying but you could tell she was having a good time. The two came over to wait with her, standing at the little tall table.

"So you're celebrating your birthday here?" Stella asked, a bright blush coming through under the freckling on her face. The table creaked every once in a while as she swayed.

"Uh, well, not really. My parents brought me here for breakfast and now we're going to church..."

"To church!"

"Ew," said Cat, reflexively. "Sorry. No offense."

"We gotta get you fuckin' loaded," said Stella. "Are your parents just waiting in the car?"

"Yeah..."

"You like weed?"

Brenna's eyes widened in shock. She had smoked a couple of bowls before, at a party. "Yeah!" She wasn't prepared for Stella to whip out a dab pen.

It was simple and pink, a small battery that could fit almost anywhere. Stella unscrewed the cartridge that was on it and replaced it with a fresh one. "Hit this til they call your order."

"Wh--okay!" Brenna was almost uncomfortably turned on. She did as she was told and hit the pen, maybe a little too hard right off the bat, and immediately went into a coughing fit. Her head swirled with the alcohol and the new substance, and it took her a while to notice Stella's laughter.

"You come back to life yet?"

"Mm-mmhmm..." Brenna wiped some drool from her chin. Her head began to feel lighter, but her throat was fucked.

"Okay good, hit it again."

Looking up to meet Stella's eyes, Brenna shivered under her challenging gaze. Maintaining eye contact she hit the pen again obediently. She tried to suppress the coughing, and she didn't hit it as hard.

"Good girl, you're learning!"

Time dilated even more now. Everything around Brenna felt disconnected, like she and her new friends were on one plane, the Barbucks was on another, and her parents were on another planet.

"My parents! How long have I been in here?"

Cat giggled, gently stroking Brenna's back. "It's okay, sweetie, you're just high. Your coffee hasn't even come yet."

"Oh...right." Brenna took a deep breath of oxygen, allowing the sounds of the crowd to blend the world back together. The lights were so pretty. All the potted plants...wow. How pervasive is nature, that even inside the concrete jungle--

"Take another hit, cutie," Stella murmured across the table. Eyes fixated on the pothos crawling up a potted palm tree, Brenna obeyed.

Everything was engulfed in a soft cloud. Brenna's brain included. When her name was finally called and made its way to her through the fog, she realized she had been leaning in a very awkward position against the potted flowers behind her.

Though she was looking directly ahead of her at the coffee bar (okay, maybe a little slanted), the second Brenna took a step she began careening to the left. Her feet crossed themselves over each other and she slapped against the floor. "Oof!"

"Oh shit."

She was scooped up, body ragdolling along as Stella and Cat helped her walk to the counter. They took their hands off her as she grabbed for the drink, missing at first.

Brenna felt like a bobblehead as she turned carefully. The other two flanked her for a bit, and she wordlessly nodded toward the exit door. They walked her down the short hallway to where it was more quiet.

"You can walk okay, right?" said Stella. "I kind of feel bad for pressuring you like that."

"Nn-no, itw- was. Yes." Brenna used her left hand to help her right hand form a thumbs up, to show she was okay with this. The weed had rendered her unable to form sentences. "Thank." Suddenly perplexed, she pantomimed texting.

"Oh!"

Cat swiped Brenna's phone from her back pocket, held Brenna's finger to the sensor, and started putting in her and Stella's numbers.

Brenna tried to hand the pen back to Stella, confused why it kept moving. And why it was so heavy.

"No, keep it," she said. "Happy birthday!" She held up her cold brew sangria, and Cat joined the cheers with her dalgona martini. Brenna knocked her paper coffee cup against theirs, delighted to remember there was booze inside of it. The three of them took a hefty drink, and suddenly both Stella and Cat also had weed pens. They cheersed with the pens, and Brenna eagerly took way too big of a hit.

After another fit of coughing, having to collapse against the wall for a bit, and getting rubbed on by some beautiful ladies, Brenna staggered toward the exit door, confident her parents wouldn't suspect a thing. She stepped out into the parking lot and stared at the skyline.

"Brenna. Brenna."

Oh, that's right. They were parked right out front. Hastily she pocketed the pen.

Taking a deep breath, Brenna willed herself to walk a straight line to the car, accidentally stumbling into it at the last minute. Her parents ignored this.

As she sat in the back seat she sipped on her spiked coffee, not a thought in her head. The christian radio station was playing, and for once in her life, Brenna felt close to god.

#intox fantasy #oc #brenna #intox kink #alcohol intox #intoxication kink #alcohol #drunk #crossfaded #intox #forced intox

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archie-sunshine · 2 months

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waiter! waiter! more pandora x jak weird smut please!!!!!

i was thinkin about how magnets fuck with machinery so-

Magnets, Man...

(flagrant smut of my own ocs, 18+, JAK and Pandora)

TAGS: intelligence loss/fuckin around with jak's brain, squirting, fingering, casual sex, magnet play

Pandora has some magnets, JAK's helm looks like the perfect place to put them.

JAK could tell when Pandora was planning something for him. For one, she would compliment him more. Mention her great workmanship, thank him for all his help. Somehow, her stilted attempts at complimenting him were more endearing than they were manipulative. Second, she would be staring at him. Constantly. Or as constantly as her schedule would allow. Sometimes, when she thought he didn’t notice, she would seem to be sizing something up in her mind, usually regarding his lower half.

Those tells were enough to know it was something sexual. To know it was something so lascivious only pandora could have thought it up, one would only need to look to the third tell.

Pandora’s wall safe was open. Which meant Pandora was updating his backup drives.

“Sooooo… JAK?” Pandora purred, trotting into the room and situating herself between him and the TV.

“What is it?” JAK sighed, reaching for the remote and pausing the TV.

Pandora fidgeted with something behind her back, rocking on her heels a bit. She opened her mouth, making eye contact with him before closing it again and glancing away with a broad, nervous grin. “… Y’know, that paintjob really just works for you-“

JAK rolled his optics. “What is it.” he said flatly.

“I wanna try something. It’ll be fun! I promise. It’ll… also be sexy.” she explained quickly, turning to face him with a now more flushed look on her face.

JAK weighed his options for a moment. Or he tried to look like he was. It felt like the longer he was in this body the less dignity he had. He could have told her no, said she was being weird. Hell he could have said a lot of things. He didn’t say them. Instead he said, “Fine, but if my frame gets trashed again I’ll be pissed.”

By all accounts, it wasn’t very impressive. In her hand was a stack of round magnets, held a safe distance from his face where he was kneeling before her. She’d taken his place on the couch, still completely clothed, as usual.

“See the interesting thing about complex machines like you- hm- well ONE of the interesting things is that you don’t love magnets very much.” She hummed, closing her fist around the stack of magnets and struggling to pull one off. They seemed pretty powerful. “Messes with your internals… and I wanna know what it’ll do to your processor.”

“… you’re going to purposely possibly break my brain?” JAK asked.

“NOT BREAK!! Well- Hopefully not break, don’t worry about it.” She said quickly, rolling the magnet between her fingers and thumb.

“I’m gonna worry about it.” JAK droned, leaning back from her.

Immediately her hand darted forwards, hooking in his collar plating and stopping him. His vents hitched as the failsafe codes in him kicked on, her grip feeling stronger than the steel he was built from. “I’m not gonna break you, your body cost too much for that.” She frowned.

JAK swallowed, fixing her with an unconvincing frown. “Wow, my body and not me? Jeez you sure know how to make a dude feel special.”

“UGH you know what I-!! YOU’RE BEING PURPOSELY OBTUSE!” She snapped, wrinkling her nose at him and grimacing.

JAK grinned back at her, until he felt all of the pistons in his left arm suddenly eject out, stiffening and going uselessly limp at his side. He panickedly looked for the source of the malfunction, finding a thick black magnet pressed snugly to his plating. Pandora smacked his hand down as he reached it over to pick it off.

“The rest of you is metal too, you’ll just cause more problems trying to take it off. And anyway,” She hummed, casually flicking another magnet onto his right arm. His fans cycled up faster, heat and arousal pooling in his internals at the loss of control. “You have a more important job!”

“A-and what’s that?” JAK mumbled out thinly.

Pandora’s cool hands coaxed him to turn around and face the TV, leaving his head cradled between pandora’s knees. “I’m gonna watch my show, and you’re gonna make some noise if I hit anything interesting.” She chirped, and finally placed the first magnet on the right side of his head.

Immediately, JAK shuddered, his vision flickering and going pixelated. He could feel something in his head physically pulling back against the magnet, his teeth gritted and body quivering. It felt- A lot. It felt so very much, like danger, and proximity like his sensors were warning him of, and then further than that, like the feeling of all the blood rushing to his head. He felt dizzy.

“A-Ah-“ He sighed out, trying to jerk his neck away from the feeling and failing. Pandora’s hand tucked up under his jaw and held him fast in place, her free hand sliding the magnet in slow circles on his helm. He could feel cooling fans stutter against the tug of the magnet, feeling heat wash over his helm. He breathed out a weak laugh. “FFeels- weird-“

“Yea? What kinda weird?” She asked, doodling nonsensically with the magnet as she rubbed it over a new bit of his helm. This time his jaw dropped open and he moaned, the contact making him salivate as his body screamed for mercy.

“A-Ah- AH!” JAK cried out, his vocalizer popping in his throat and going laden with static. “F-fuh- Fizzy-“ He huffed unhelpfully.

“Fizzy?” She asked with a stifled laugh.

JAK nodded as much as he could with her hand on his jaw. Pandora laid her legs over his shoulders, squeezing either side of his face with her thighs as she giggled. She sounded so happy, and without meaning to, JAK’s fans clicked up another notch with an audible whine.

“Weeeird…” She whispered. “Let’s give you another.”

JAK’s mouth gaped open again as a second magnet made contact with the other side of his head. “NnNNGuuh-!” He grunted, drool bubbling from his lips. His voice sounded drawn out and sharp with static. His whole body felt hot with arousal. Without meaning to, his modesty plating snapped open, his pussy puffy and slick from the foreign feeling.

“O-Oh-!” Pandora squeaked. “Oh my god, Really? it feels that good?” she hissed out in an excited whisper, leaning down over his head to look at his junk. JAK’s fans squealed. Unable to use his arms, JAK rolled his hips weakly. It felt impossible to think, every coherent string of code pulled up and away by the magnets tormenting him.

“Uuuhnfffhhnn-“ JAK moaned when pandora slowly drew the magnets around his metal skull again.

“Oh… Oh wow…” Pandora sighed out breathlessly, stroking at JAK’s neck cabling. “I…. Can you turn around for me?”

JAK struggled to wrangle the prompt into making sense. He sluggishly followed her orders, succeeding only in tipping himself over onto his back facing her. Pandora just laughed, reaching down and arranging his hips between her legs with his cunt pointing up towards the ceiling. He got a great view of the underside of the coffee table from here. “Comfortable?” She teased. JAK’s vocalizer crackled. “Good.”

She rubbed her open palm over his waiting pussy, earning a series of useless clicks and fizzes from his vocalizer. Pandora smiled to herself. JAK must have looked so stupid then, jaw hung open, legs splayed over Pandora’s lap as she teased him. JAK couldn’t find anything in him that cared about how he looked. The only thing his processor cared to register was her touch. He drooled haplessly. Her cool digits burrowed into his hole and curled upwards to massage his lubrication tube. Lubricant welled at its opening for a moment as she kneaded it lightly. JAK moaned. Nothing existed but her, nothing but her careful digits and the pleasure they wrung out from him.

Her fingers went stiff, then decisively jabbed forwards against the tube. JAK gurgled his own spittle as a jet of lubricant arced up from his cunt and splattered against his belly. Her free hand came up, pinching at his clit and tugging on the pleats of his hood. JAK moaned out, unable to warn her as he came, another stream of lubricant splattering across his stomach.

“God you’re sensitive, it’s so fun!” She laughed, rolling her digits inside of him. JAK nodded dumbly, his face split into a blissed out smile. She was beautiful and terrifying, his body not his own but an extension of her will. He wanted to scream in terror and run, and he wanted to crawl meekly at her feet and curl into her like some lost dog. She was everything.

“Y-y’r sso good t’ me….” JAK choked out in a moment of clarity.

She laughed, snorting and squealing and kicking her feet. “God you’re fucking- HAH! Youuu.. you’re so stupid.” She snickered, worming her pinkie finger inside him along her middle and ring finger. JAK rolled his head back and whined. She began to pump her fingers in, his lubricant gushing and squirting around her digits. He moaned. It was so hard to think, his whole body on fire with the strain of just barely thinking while Pandora merrily reamed him out with her hand. The fingers on his clit shifted, pinching it between her middle and ring fingers and tugging gently as she rhythmically rolled it between her knuckles.

JAK’s body twitched weakly. It was total bliss, no thoughts, nothing but pleasure and stimulation, nothing but pandora. His optics shot wide open as she pressed the fourth digit on her hand inside of him. He wailed out incomprehensibly in strain and enjoyment. If he could do anything but force whines and crackles out of his useless vocalizer, he would have been screaming ‘YES’ over and over. But he couldn’t, so instead his vocalizer just squealed as he gushed a second time. Pandora simply tilted his hips forwards lightly, snickering to herself as his lubricant rained all over his own face and chest.

Unsurprisingly, JAK couldn’t find it in himself to care.

“You keep saying you’re gonna fix the lubricant levels, but you never fix them.” JAK huffed as he scrubbed at his plating with solvent. He was sitting on the toilet of the bathroom, grimacing to himself as he dug bits of drying orange flavoured lube from the crevices of his frame.

“I promise I’ll do it soon!!” Pandora called over the hiss of the shower. She poked her head out from around the curtain, her hair falling in slick curtains down her arms and shoulders. “Its just like… y’know… sooooo finicky-“

“You like it that i squirt, don’t you.” JAK sighed, cutting her off.

Pandora clammed up, glancing around shyly. “…. Maybe.”

“… You can keep it like this if you handle the cleanup.” JAK muttered, averting his gaze as his cheeks warmed.

“REALLY!!?” Pandora shrieked. JAK’s face flushed further.

When he didn’t say anything to deny it, Pandora cheered to herself, sliding back behind the shower curtain.

JAK sighed again, glaring up at the ceiling of the bathroom. One of these days he was going to finally have the dignity to say no to her.

“We should see how far you can squirt, or like, if you can knock something over with the pressure!” Pandora cackled.

… God and he hoped that day never came.

#archie answers #my fic #my ocs #JAK #pandora #smut #circua #circua prime #my requests #valveplug #technically #/nsfw #/nsft

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an0ther1 · 2 months

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Untitled

Leah x OC

This is the start of something Im playing around with. Feedback is appreciated, or ideas/suggestions.

She took one last look in the mirror. It was just dinner with a friend, but being a public figure meant more eyes were usually on her than most. A pair of comfortable designer jeans she had gotten from a photo shoot and a maroon fitted jumper made it look like she wasn’t trying too hard without looking like she didn’t care at all.

She tousled her hair one more time before grabbing her phone and heading to the door to grab her black winter coat and purse. The restaurant was only a few blocks from her place so it wasn’t worth the bother to drive. She didn’t mind the walk either, some of the houses on her street always went all out with their light displays and holiday decorations. Tonight was the first chance she got to walk by and enjoy them.

She was around the corner from the restaurant when her phone went off with a text notification. Even before she pulled it out of her pocket she knew what it was going to be.

Lessi: So sorry Lee, can’t make it tonight. Can we reschedule for later this week?

“Really Russo.” Leah said under her breath as she continued walking. She should have known Alessia was going to cancel. United was in town, which meant Ella was in town, and Alessia always ditched plans with others to hang out with her best friend instead. At least the last time this happened she gave a few hours advance notice. Not 5 minutes before they were supposed to meet.

Lee: Yeah, that’s fine. Tell Tooney I said hello, and I would appreciate it if she could put a few in against Chelsea tomorrow.

Leah stepped into the restaurant and headed for the bar. If she was going to be dining solo, there was no need to get a table. At least at the bar top her back was to the other patrons and she could enjoy a meal in relative peace.

The restaurant wasn’t terribly busy, but there was only one open seat at the bar. Thankfully it was at the end so she would only be sitting next to one stranger instead of being sandwiched between two. Leah crossed her fingers that the guy she was about to sit next to didn’t try and hit on her all night.

“This seat taken?” She asked politely walking up behind the seat.

“Nope. You’re more than welcome to it. Let me scoot over and give you a bit more room.” The person replied in a very obvious American accent and a deep but distinctly feminine voice.

“Oh.” Leah was caught off guard by her incorrect assumption. “I appreciate that, thank you.” She told the person as she took off her coat and placed it on the back of the chair.

After she was settled, a waiter behind the bar walked up. “Ms. Williamson, pleasure to see you again.” They said as they handed her a menu. “Start you with a drink?”

“Thank you. Glass of chardonnay, please.”

“Sure thing.” They said and then headed back down the bar.

“Regular here, huh?” The person next to her asked as they took a sip of their drink without looking in her direction.

“Not really. Only been in a few times.” She replied quietly, not really wanting to drawn much attention to herself.

“Ah, then clearly they watch women's football. As they should.”

And clearly this person knew who she was too.

“Mmm, yeah, I guess.” Was all Leah said in response.

There was silence after that, the stranger going back to their drink. They had their phone propped up on the bar watching what Leah guessed was a replay of the U.S. game against China PR from the week prior.

Leah couldn’t help herself. “What do you think of the Emma Hayes move?”

The stranger turned and faced her for the first time and Leah was struck by piercing blue eyes. Their hair was light brown and cut in a more masculine style, buzzed on the sides with the top longer and brushed back and towards one side. They had a strong jawline, but the rest of their features were what Leah would describe as soft almost. The perfect balance of masculine and feminine. Definitely not Leah’s type, but she wasn’t blind, they were very attractive.

“I think we’ll finally start utilizing the talent we have properly and stop banging our head against a wall repeatedly doing the same thing when it obviously doesn’t work. And I’m not naive, things aren’t going to change overnight. We have a young group we’re still trying to get together on the same page, but maybe they’ll all start going in the same direction at least.” The stranger finished.

“So you weren’t a fan of Vlatko I’m guessing?”

“Absolutely not. He was boring, soft, his lineups and tactics were questionable at best. I didn’t like the hire from the get go and I think he was there too long.” The stranger took a sip of their drink. “I think the powers that be got a much needed reality check. We can’t accept mediocrity and still expect to win. The women’s game has changed. Other countries are finally starting to invest in their women’s programs and youth levels bit by bit, and they are coming for the US, Germany. Being a top 5 team in the world doesn’t mean your success is a guarantee like it might have in the past.”

The waiter walked over then with Leah’s wine. She gave him her order, not bothering to even open the menu, just ordering the same chicken dish had gotten the last time she was there.

“What do you think of the move? Has a bit of an impact on league and country. Her leaving one rival and going to another so to speak.” The stranger asked over her glass before taking another sip.

“Oh, umm. It is quite the shake up. I admit I’m curious who will fill her role at Chelsea. But I’m not sure I have much to say about her taking over the U.S. team. At least not at the moment.” Leah really wasn’t looking to get into any type of potential disagreement or the like with an American about their countries football team. Keeping neutral was best.

“Fair enough.” The stranger gave a slow head nod and turned back to the game on her phone.

Leah took a sip of her wine and watched the game over the strangers shoulder. They must of had a 6th sense because they moved their phone in between the two of them without a word.

“They’re definitely disjointed. Struggling to connect between the defense and the attackers. And they can’t seem to string more than 3 passes together before they lose it.” Leah let her thoughts roll out.

“Like I said, not on the same page. There are a lot of fresh faces, which I love. But they need more time together for sure. That would help with the fluidity issue. They still need to get used to Sonnett playing the 6. I think her energy in the middle still catches some of them off guard. The speed of Thompson is hard for some to keep up with and anticipate what she’s trying to do. There is just a lot of change.” The stranger replied without so much as a glance in Leah’s direction.

It was oddly comfortable talking to a stranger about football as if Leah wasn’t really a part of that world. This person wasn’t asking her about her injury recovery, wasn’t asking or saying anything that actually had to do with Leah in any way. It was a rather nice change from her usual encounters with strangers who knew who she was and what she did for a living.

They continued watching the game in relative silence, just throwing out random comments about a play or player sporadically until Leah’s order arrived.

The waiter placed the plate in front of Leah on the bar. “Anything else I can get ya?” He asked.

“No, I think I’m alright for the time being. Thank you.” Leah gave him a polite smile.

The waiter turned to the stranger. “Another round RJ?”

“Nah, I think I’m good Colin.” The stranger pulled out their wallet and laid a bill on the bar top. “You know the drill.”

Colin, the waiter, let out a hearty laugh. “Yeah, yeah. Keep the change. You keep tipping me like this I’m going to have to start buying your rounds.” He waved the bill at her. A £50 note.

“I might let you do that. Once. But we’ll see.” The stranger, or well, RJ as the waiter had called them, got up from their chair and began putting on a camel hair coat that had been laying over the chair.

As they buttoned up their coat, Leah could help but notice how tall they were. The waiter looked to be about 6 foot, and RJ didn’t seem too far off in comparison.

“Ms. Williamson,” RJ broke Leah out of her mental calculation on their height. “It was very nice to meet you. Maybe we’ll see each other around sometime.”

“Oh, yes. It was nice to meet you as well, umm RJ?” Leah questioned. Not sure if she was to call them that or not.

“Enjoy your meal.” RJ bowed their head slightly, turned and walked away.

“RJ’s an interesting one.” The waiter said as they picked up the empty glass and wiped down the surface where RJ had been seated.

“How’d ya mean?”

“They have a drink or two, and then always hand over a £50 note. Won’t accept change even though the tab is usually less than £20.” He shook his head.

“Are they a regular?” Leah asked.

“Not sure if I would call them a regular just yet. They only moved from America about a month and a half ago, they said. Some digital job of some sort.” He shrugged. “Just holler if you need anything else.” He turned and headed back down the bar.

#woso community #woso fanfics #woso soccer #leah williamson #arsenal

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ezralovrr · 27 days

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STOP ATTACKING ME! - A short Helluva Boss OC Drabble

Yeah I’m not gonna lie.. I don’t really like Stolas, I’m sorry. His whiny attitude about how Blitzo doesn’t love him is honestly really annoying. So here’s my frustrations being put into a small story!

(Also this basically serves as an origin story to Raya’s rivalry with Stolas.)

Stolas likers, I’m sorry in advance. This one isn’t for you.

The Goetia palace was lavishing as ever this evening; the crystal chandeliers sparkled in the evening light, the constellations painted on the ceiling seemed to glow, and the polished marble floor reflected the silhouettes of the avian royalty of Hell.

While Stella flounced about on the ballroom floor and squawked to her peacock acquaintances about her stupid husband, the owl prince Stolas stood 10 feet away from her, meekly sipping on some rich wine. “Witch.” He hissed under his breath. He was dressed in his bathrobes, as he couldn’t bother to get into his more formal attire. It’s not like anyone would care, anyways. Pity, pity, pity…

Andrealphus gave his brother-in-law a snide glare as he strode over to his cackling sister, who was loudly singing about what foolish things her husband had said this week. She did like to torment him, so this was nothing new to the owl prince.

Stolas huffed and ruffled his feathers, a look of sadness creeping up on his beak. If only his “star-crossed” lower-class lover Blitzo could whisk him away from the “Still Not Divorced” party, leaving his teenage daughter Octavia to sit awkwardly with her mother…

His train of thought was interrupted when he heard someone yelling mildly as they struggled to climb over the balcony rail. Stolas’s ruby eyes lit up, and he dashed over to the balcony he was standing next to, grabbing the arm to pull his lover up to the pala-

It was a human.

“Oh.” Stolas sighed. Regardless, he helped her up and into the palace, as he didn’t wish to be rude. “My apologies. I thought you were someone else.” He briskly turned to an imp waiter, trying to offer the woman something to drink or nibble on. She refused politely, though by the look on her face, she wanted to discuss something with the prince.

“It’s alright. I actually wanted to ask you about something regarding your.. affair.” The words “affair” seemed to haunt Stolas. Affair was far from what could be described about his loving, totally sincere relationship with Blitzo. “…Right then. Please, pray tell, what do you wish to query me?” Stolas adjusted his bathrobe to appear decent.

“Why do you still chase after that imp?” She shot him a subtle yet icy cold glare. Stolas felt his heart quake. “…What- What is your name..?” He asked the human. She gasped lightly and adjusted her corn-colored hair. “Raya. Why do you wish to know?” She tilted her head up at the prince. “I- …With all due respect, miss Raya… I genuinely feel a strong, warm connection to that little imp.” Stolas stared off into space as a sick warmth spread to his beak.

Raya clenched her teeth, clearly annoyed he was trying to change the subject. As he started to ramble on and on, she felt slightly agitated and wanted to square the conversation back. “No- no, you’re not listening to me, your highness.” She spoke out, causing the owl to hoot slightly and shut his beak in mild shock.

“…Like I said, you’re chasing after someone who isn’t interested in you. You deliberately harass the poor man, exploiting him for your pleasure and to keep his business afloat, and even prioritizing him over your daughter not once, but twice. You flaunted your first affair to your wife. And I get that she’s awful, but it doesn’t give you an excuse to do so. You spend all your time wailing and waiting for your imp prince to rescue you from the wicked witch, but you’re just living a fantasy. A sick fantasy in which you leave your daughter alone as feared. And no amount of coddling could change that, which is why you need to take the first step and accept that Blitz. Doesn’t. Love you.” Raya went on a long-winded rant, essentially calling out the Goetia prince for his attitude and actions.

Stolas was horrified, his legs were shaking like a great earthquake, his heart heavily beating as sweat trickled down his beak. It was true, but he didn’t want to accept it. He hated confrontation, he hated owning up to his mistakes and recognizing his flaws. And then, right before she could deliver the verdict…

“STOP! STOP IT, PLEASE, I BEG OF YOU! PLEASE, STOP IT!” Like a child, the owl prince screeched and stumbled back, crocodile tears streaming down his face as he made a scene. “No- wait- I- I didn’t mean to. Your royal highness, I apologize. Please, just breathe and think rationally for a second…!” Raya lightly raised her hand to soothe the prince.

“WITCH! SHE’S RAISING HER HAND AGAINST ME! SOMEONE, PLEASE TAKE HER AWAY!” Stolas cried out, dark blue feathers slightly falling from his body.

The orchestra paused as the royal avians turned to the scene. Andrealphus raised an eyebrow, mildly confused at the behavior of his brother-in-law. Stella, however, had a wicked, almost proud grin on her face. Two hellhounds grabbed Raya by the forearms while she was distracted from attempting to ease the prince.

“Ma’am, it’s nothing personal. We’d like for you to leave the premises at once.” One of them barked at her. “No, wait-! I’m not done! Octavia! Princess! Please just know that my door’s open if you wish to have a safe space!!” Raya called to the Goetia princess as she was dragged out of the ballroom. Octavia, while mildly confused, as put at ease as she went to go comfort her tantrum-throwing father.

Raya was tossed outside of the Goetia palace, and she hit the pavement upon impact. “Respectfully, you are disallowed from entering this palace again.” The other hellhound affirmed her as they shut the doors. “Damn it all…” Raya sighed and picked herself up. She shivered slightly, mildly irritated that her confrontational approach didn’t work out in the end.

Just before she was about to leave, the door opened and closed quickly. Raya turned around, finding a prideful Stella exiting the palace. “Well done. Really, darling, well done!” She slowly applauded the human. “What?” Raya mouthed to no one in particular.

“You really took the words out of my mouth. Although I’m still mildly disgusted that the imp-sucking excuse of my husband is being coddled right now back upstairs… you really said some things I wanted to hear for a long time.” Stella smiled lightly, offering a hand for the human to shake. Raya stared down at her hand, then pulled her lavender cardigan sleeve a bit over her palm before accepting the handshake.

“I’m… honored, I guess.” She awkwardly brushed a piece of hair out of her eyes. “Well, I must head back to the Still Not Divorced soirée. Just keep in mind though… I admire your bravery.” Stella curtsied lightly before taking her leave and re-entering the palace.

Raya stood there, flabbergasted. Although her mission was unsuccessful, she at least felt satisfied voicing her thoughts on the prince.

And that’s the end! I’m gonna be honest, I’m not really keeping up with the show anymore, so I tried to write the characters to the best of my ability.

#helluva boss oc #helluva boss Stolas #helluva boss Stella #helluva boss octavia #helluva boss andrealphus #helluva boss #helluva boss critique #stolas critical #anti Stolas #anti stolitz #oc story #short story #story #Drabble #oc

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daenysthedreamer101 · 3 months

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Youngest Original ~ TVDU

Ch 1 - The End of The Affair

Mikaelson!OC

Warnings: mentions of blood, murder, injury, death, usual TVD shenanigans, female OC, Klaus being a bad brother lol

Corresponding episode: TVD 3x3

Masterlist

Prologue

Chicago, 2010

"Welcome back to Chicago, Stefan," Klaus says as they exit the car. Stefan gets out of the car, confused as to why they're here.

"What are we doing here?" He asks as Klaus opens the door of the storage room.

"I know how much you loved it here. Bringing back memories of the good old ripper days?" Klaus asks rhetorically.

"Blacked out most of them," Stefan admits. "Lot of blood, lot of partying. The details are all a blur." He adds.

"Well, that is a crying shame. The details are what make it legend." Klaus says.

Chicago, 1920s

Stefan gets out of the car wiping off the blood from his lips, and walks over to the back door of the club. He knocks and the bouncer lets him in. He walks through the hallway and walks into the club full of life and music. He looks around - Champagne, lights, pearls, people dancing on the dance floor...He puts his hands on the handrails and looks at the singer on stage.

"Guess who my eyes just spied, ladies? Looking for a good time, Mr. Salvatore?" The woman asks.

"Save me a dance, Gloria," Stefan says with a smile as he walks down the stairs. He sees a waiter walking with a champagne glass and he goes to take it, but a woman grabs it right in front of him.

"Oh. Please, help yourself." He says sarcastically. She turns around and looks at him. She's wearing a pretty flapper dress with pearls decorating her neck. She has white gloves on her hands and her blonde hair is done to perfection.

"Oh, I always do." She says with a smirk on her lips and a sparkle in her blue eyes. She walks over to him and licks his lips.

"Careful, Mr. Salvatore. You're still wearing your date. She's lovely." She whispers to him and starts walking away.

"No, no. Who are you?" He pulls her back to him. She just puts a finger over her mouth and walks away. Stefan looks at her bewildered as she sits down in a booth next to a pretty brunette. They whisper something to each other and giggle as they look in his direction.

"Chicago was magical," Klaus says.

"Yeah, well, I'll take your word for it. Like I said, I don't remember most of it." Stefan responds.

"Down to business, then?" Klaus asks sarcastically.

"Why am I still with you? We had our fun, your hybrids failed. I mean, don't you wanna move on?" Stefan asked.

"We're going to see my favorite witch," Klaus answered. "If anyone can help us with our hybrids problem...it's her." He added and got in the car.

1920s - Rebekah's POV

Rebekah was dancing on the dance floor with a man. She was trying to enjoy the music and the atmosphere but it was becoming increasingly difficult because Stefan and his rowdy group of friends were being loud and annoying.

She could hear her sister huffing in annoyance somewhere behind her. She turned around and made eye contact with her younger sister who was also dancing. Her sister pointed to Stefan with her head and Rebekah knew what she had to do.

"Sorry to crash the fun boys, but some of us actually came here to hear the music, not you." She told Stefan and his group of friends.

"Oh. I'm so sorry sweetheart. Are we offending you?" Stefan asks in mock concern. His friends laugh.

She smiled and walked up to Stefan. "It'd take a lot more than a baby face like this to offend me." She responded and headed back for the dance floor. Stefan once again pulls her back.

"Hey. Are you ever gonna tell me your name? " He asks.

"Sure. When you earn it. Now do Gloria a favor and stick a sock in it." She told him and went back to search for her sister.

She found her sister sitting in one of the booths, sipping on champagne. "He likes you." Her sister broke the silence. Rebekah rolled her eyes.

"Kassie..." She started but was cut off.

"Bekah..." Kassandra teased with a smile. "And you fancy him back. Don't you?"

Bekah just smiled and refused to look at her sister.

"See. You're blushing." Kassie continued teasing. Rebekah slapped her arm teasingly.

"Where's Klaus? I haven't seen him this whole evening." She asked her sister. Kassie just sighed and chugged down the rest of her champagne.

"I don't know. Eating an innocent girl, I assume." Her sister answered with disdain in her voice.

Klaus and Stefan walk into Gloria's old bar which still works, 90 years later. "Looks familiar, doesn't it?" Klaus asks as they look around the bar.

"I can't believe this place is still here," Stefan responds. Then, the owner of the bar, Gloria, comes out.

"I remember you." She says to the two vampires.

"Yeah...You're Gloria." Stefan says, shocked that the woman is still alive. "Shouldn't you be..."

"Old and dead? Now If I die who's gonna run this place, huh?" She responds with sarcasm.

"Gloria's a very powerful witch," Klaus adds.

"I can slow the aging down some. Herbs and spells. But don't worry, it'll catch up to me one day." She tells them.

Klaus tells Stefan to go behind the bar and pour them something to drink. "You look ravishing by the way." He compliments the witch.

"Don't." She waves him off. "I know why you're here. A hybrid out to make more hybrids? That kind of news travels." She tells him as they sit down at a table.

"So what am I doing wrong?" Klaus asks. "I broke the curse." From behind the bar, Stefan eavesdrops on their conversation with his supernatural hearing.

"Obviously you did something wrong. Look, every spell has a loophole. But a curse that old, we'd have to contact the witch who created it." Gloria informs Klaus.

"Well, that would be the Original witch. She's very dead." Klaus comments.

"I know. And for me to contact her, I'll need help." Gloria says. Stefan sees a picture on the wall as he's pouring drinks. He picks it up to examine it.

"Bring me Rebekah." She says to Klaus.

"Rebekah. Rebekah is a bit... preoccupied." He tells Gloria.

"She has what I need. Bring her to me." Gloria responds.

"What is this?" Stefan asks as he points to the black and white photo in his hands. In the photo are Klaus and Stefan, together.

"This doesn't make any sense. Why don't I remember you?" Stefan asked Klaus as they entered the storage room where Klaus kept his sibling's coffins. Klaus tries to avert Stefan's questions but Stefan grabs him and demands an explanation.

"Let's just say we didn't get off to a brilliant start. To be honest, I hated you." Klaus says.

Klaus then tells Stefan of how they first met and how Stefan knew Klaus's sister. "Your sister? So I knew another Original vampire?" Stefan asked. Klaus smirked at him.

"If you can't handle it, then don't ask," Klaus says and walks over to one of the coffins. He opened it and inside was his sister, Rebekah, gray and desiccated with a dagger in her heart. Klaus looked fondly at her and caressed her cheek.

"I don't recognize her," Stefan confessed.

"Don't tell her that. Rebekah's temper's worse than mine." Klaus says and removes the dagger from his sister's heart. "Time to wake up, little sister."

"Any day now, Rebekah. She's just being dramatic." Klaus comments.

"Look why don't you just tell me what the hell is going on? I mean you obviously want me here for a reason, right?" Stefan asks Klaus as they both look at Rebekah.

"Well, you have many useful talents. In fact, I learned some of my favorite tricks from you." Klaus informs Stefan.

1920s - Stefan's POV

"So Stefan, enlighten me. What makes you worthy of an Original like my sister? She's pure vampire and you're no more than a diluted bloodline." Klaus asks him as they all sit in a booth. Next to Stefan was Rebekah and next to Klaus was a beautiful girl named Kassandra and she was also an Original.

"Don't listen to him, Stefan. Nik's an elitist." Rebekah says to him as Klaus smirks and puts his arms around Kassandra who just chuckled at Klaus's words.

"And where's the rest of your family?" He asks Klaus.

"Well, let's see. Um, I killed most of them." Klaus stated matter-of-factly.

"But not all," Rebekah remarked with a pout.

"And you're ok with that?" Stefan asked her.

"Well, we all had the chance to choose a side. I chose the right one, eventually." Rebekah said and grabbed Klaus's hand.

"And you? What about you?" Stefan turned his attention to the pretty brunette who was wearing a pale green dress and was looking down at her nails.

"Me? Well, I was always on the right side. Wasn't I, Nik?" She asked rhetorically and leaned closer to Klaus who kissed her temple and smiled at her. The girl gave Rebekah a side glance and smirked at her and Rebekah just rolled her eyes.

They were then approached by a man who accused Stefan of being inappropriate with his wife and demanded to know where his wife was. Stefan Stefan told him to sit down and called for his wife.

When the woman, Lila, sat down, Stefan compelled her to cut herself and poured her blood into a glass. After dismissing the woman he compelled the man to drink his wife's blood.

"I was your number one fan," Klaus told Stefan as they walked toward the exit of the storage room.

"Why should I believe any of this?" Stefan asks. Klaus compels the guard of the storage room to inform Rebekah to go to Gloria's bar and to offer himself to Rebekah as food when she wakes up.

"We know each other. You trusted me with one of your secrets. Now I'm gonna prove it to you." Klaus tells Stefan and informs him they're going to Stefan's old apartment.

After visiting Stefan's old apartment, the two vampires went back to Gloria's bar. "Where's Rebekah?" Gloria asked them as she handed them both a bottle of beer.

"She'll be here. I can't just conjure her on demand." Klaus answered as he took a sip. He turns to Stefan and asks him what's wrong.

"This is why you asked me to be your wingman? Because you like the way I tortured innocent people." Stefan comments.

"Well, that's certainly half of it," Klaus says as he grabs a bottle.

"And what's the other half?" Stefan asked, curious.

"The other half, Stefan...is that you used to want to be my wingman," Klaus informed the other man as he poured them a drink.

1920s - Klaus's POV

Stefan passes Klaus a shot. Klaus chugs it down in one go. "They're jealous. Your family wants you dead because they can never be what you are." Stefan says to him.

"What? An abomination?" Klaus asks with self-loathing lacing his voice.

"No...a king." Stefan corrects him and they both laugh.

"Look at us. Two sad orphans." Klaus jokes. Stefan looks up where Rebekah and Kassandra are standing and talking. Rebekah looks down at Stefan.

"My sister fancies you, you know," Klaus informs Stefan who hums in acknowledgment.

"But I should warn you, Rebekah doesn't do anything half-speed. That includes falling in love. Just be careful. She's totally mad." He tells Stefan and both men laugh.

"I appreciate the advice," Stefan says as he takes another shot.

"And when the point comes when she inevitably leaves you...she can't help it, it's just who she is, don't let your heart do anything stupid," Klaus adds.

Stefan thinks for a second then asks. "What about your other sister? Am I not her type or what?"

Klaus ponders the question and looks up at his youngest sister and sibling. "Kassandra is...more reserved, shall we say? She guards her heart viciously. It will take more than a handsome face for her to fall in love." He explains to Stefan who is now also looking at the beautiful brunette. She looks down at Stefan and gives him a small, polite smile.

"She knows that, sooner or later, she will have to let go. So, instead of going through an inevitable heartbreak, she lets no one in. She's different from Rebekah in that sense." Klaus adds. A silence falls between two men.

"You know what? You're a good friend, Nik. I'm glad I met you." Stefan says to him and raises his glass for Klaus.

"So, I'm confused. If we were such great friends, then why do I only know you as the hybrid dick who sacrificed my girlfriend on an altar of fire? Huh?" Stefan asked.

Klaus smiled. "All good things must come to an end."

1920s - Kassandra's POV

She and her older brother were sitting at a table while Rebekah was on the dance floor with Stefan. "Are you sure you don't want to dance, love?" Klaus asks her. She looks at him and shakes her head with a smile.

"No, I'm good. But thank you for asking." She tells him as she plays with the pearls around her neck. "But it seems Bekah's having a fun time." She remarks with a smirk. They both look at Rebekah who is happily dancing with Stefan.

Then, the smile from Klaus's face disappeared and was replaced by a seriousness that only meant one thing - danger. "What is it, Klaus?" She asked him but he didn't respond. He looked around like he was searching for someone.

"CHICAGO POLICE!" All of a sudden a rain of bullets falls over the bar. Klaus chugs his drink and grabs Kassie's arm as they move away from the table. She tries to look for Rebekah but can't seem to locate her in the frenzy.

"Rebekah! Come on, we gotta go, sweetheart!" Klaus yelled across the bar as he kept a tight grip on Kassie's arm. Bekah appeared from behind the bar and Klaus grabbed her as well. Stefan asked what was going on but got no answer.

Klaus yells at both of them to go and pushes Bekah toward Kassie. "Come on, Bex!" Kassie says and grabs her sister and together they run out of the club, neither of them noticing that Rebekah's special necklace fell off of her in a hurry. What they also didn't witness was Klaus compelling Stefan to forget all three of them.

"You compelled me to forget," Stefan said as Klaus finished telling him the story.

"It was time for my sisters and I to move on. Better to have a clean slate." Klaus admitted and chugged another shot.

"But why?" Stefan wondered out loud. "You shouldn't have to cover your tracks. Unless you're running from someone." Stefan pieced the pieces of the puzzle together.

"Story time's over," Klaus says and turns away. Stefan then turns his head left and sees his brother Damon at the other side of the bar.

"I need another drink. A real one." Stefan says and walks out after his brother.

Outside of the bar, Stefan warns Damon that he has to get Elena out of Chicago, lest Klaus finds out that Elena's survival is the reason why all of his hybrids failed. Damon leaves for the club to distract Klaus while Stefan talks to Elena.

Elena tries to get Stefan to come back home, but Stefan refuses, telling her that her plan isn't gonna work. In the meantime, Klaus tries to kill Damon but is stopped by Gloria.

Elena argues that this situation is the same as it was when Lexi found him in the 1920s and helped him.

"And do you know what I did after that? I spent 30 years trying to pull myself together. To a vampire that's nothing. To you, that's half your life." Stefan says to Elena. She says that she won't give up on him.

"I don't wanna see you. I don't wanna be with you. I just want you to go." He tells her and walks away, leaving Elena heartbroken.

Klaus is back in the storage room where he kept all his coffins. He noticed that Rebekah's was empty meaning that she had awakened. He also noted the dead guard on the floor, further cementing the fact that Rebekah was now awake.

"Rebekah. It's your big brother. Come out, come out wherever you are." He said in a sing-song voice when all of sudden Rebekah appeared from nowhere and stabbed Klaus with the dagger.

1920s - Kassandra's POV

"Hurry up, Rebekah. Let's go." Klaus said as he opened the door of the truck.

"He'll be here any second," Rebekah said as she looked out, waiting.

"Do you wanna die? We've been found. We need to move." Klaus said to his younger sister.

"Not without Stefan," Rebekah said, refusing to move. Klaus told her Stefan was not coming.

"What did you do?" Rebekah asked with tears in her eyes.

"Come on. We don't have time for one of your tantrums." Klaus said and grabbed Rebekah by her arm but she pulled away.

"I don't want to run anymore Nik! All we do is run. I want to be with Stefan." Rebekah admitted.

"Fine, then choose. Him or us?" Klaus says. Rebekah looked at him and Kassie.

"Bekah, he's not worth it. Please, let's just get into the truck and go. Please." Kassandra pleaded with her older sister. Rebekah closed her eyes, not wanting to answer.

"That's what I thought. Get in the truck. Let's go." Klaus said as he put his hand on Kassie's back and guided her toward the truck.

"Goodbye, Nik," Bekah said. Kassie turned around in shock. There's no way Bekah was choosing Stefan over them!

"Bekah, you can't be serious. Him over us? Please, Bekah, just get in the truck. I beg you, please let's just-" She tried reasoning with Bekah but her words were cut short when Klaus daggered Rebekah out of nowhere, shocking Kassie.

"Oh my god! Rebekah!" Kassie screamed as her sister's body became grey and desiccated and fell to the ground. She looked at Nik with tears in her eyes.

"How could you!? How could you!?" She yelled at him as tears fell down her face. He grabbed her forearms.

"You better get in the truck, now, or you'll be next. Do you understand me?" Klaus threatened. She looked up at him with rage and anger in her eyes, but ultimately she obeyed him, as she always did.

Klaus pulled the dagger out of his heart. "Don't pout. You knew it wouldn't kill me." He said to a now awakened Rebekah.

"No, but I was hoping it would hurt more," Bekah replied cooly.

"I understand that you're upset with, Rebekah...so I'm gonna let that go, just this once. I brought you a little peace offering." Klaus tells her and then he tells someone to come in.

"Stefan..." Bekah whispered, shocked.

"Now, you remember," Klaus says to Stefan who suddenly gained back all his memories from the 20s.

"Rebekah..." Stefan said as he looked at the girl.

"Gloria tells me you know how to contact the Original witch," Klaus says as he walks over to his sister. "What do you have that Gloria needs?" He asks her. At that, Rebekah touches her neck.

"Where's my necklace? What did you do with it? I never take it off." Rebekah asked with panic in her voice. Stefan gulps, knowing exactly where the necklace is.

"Tell me that's not what she needs, Rebekah!" Klaus yells at her. She pushes him off and sprints to her coffin to search for her necklace. When she doesn't find it, she pushes her coffin and screams in frustration.

***

We see Kassie in a flashback! We won't see her in person for a couple of chapters, but I tried establishing her as a character and her relationships with other people so that you have a sense of who she is before we officially meet her. Hope you enjoyed it.

If you haven't already, you can read the prologue I already posted. The link is at the top.

Thank you so much for reading, If you have any opinions feel free to share!

💓💓💓

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satorugojooo · 2 years

Text

~Annoying roommates~

A/n: since we start to get more informations based on Kaveh, I couldn't stop thinking at how he and Al Haitham get along taking the fact that Kaveh was invited by Cyno to have a meal together with Tighnari and Collei and the whole time he complained about his annoying roommate (Al haitham) so here's Al haitham x gn!reader together with Kaveh!

Pairings: Al haitham x gn!reader

Warnings: none, maybe some nicknames but that's all also this is written before the release of Sumeru, so I apologize if the characters are written kinda oc. Also sumeru spoilers?

You were sitting together with Cyno, Tighnari and Collei at a table at a local restaurant waiting for a famous architect.

"So when did Kaveh say that he would come?" Tighnari asked and Cyno shrugged.

"He said he would be here but he's surely taking his sweet time." he said and all of a sudden you felt an arm on your shoulder.

"Hello hello ladies and gentleman's!" Kaveh said and you looked at him.

"So you finally thought of joining us huh, what about Al haitham? Had a rough time with him?" you asked knowing that these two surely started arguing like 2 monkeys.

"Ah my dear y/n you don't even want to know what your ass of a boyfriend did to me, on top of the fact that I wanted to rearrange his boring home, he even said it looks way better this way than my wonderful plan. How dare he." he said and you giggled.

"I see everything is alright then, now now, we shall get our orders right?" you said and Cyno nodded calling the waiter to receive your orders. After you all ordered something Cyno looked at Kaveh.

"So Kaveh, I heard your still struggling after you build the Palace of Alcazarzaray, didn't you manage to get in touch with the Akademiya? I'm sure they would help knowing that you planned and build on your own funds the prettiest building in sumeru." he said and Kaveh scoffed.

"No what I did it was for the city, I don't need anything from the Akademiya plus I can get back on my own soon enough, if I only could move away from that dopey gorilla it would be 10 times better." he said and you saw how Tighnari and Collei tried to hold their laughter while Cyno was... Stoic as always but you saw a hint of amusement even in his eyes.

"Oh c'mon Kavi, Al Haitham isn't that bad right, plus he offered to help you I think that's very good." you said while sipping some orange juice.

"Don't even get me started, I tell you y/n if you ever plan to live with this man get ready to respect his rules. This monkey won't even allow me to make noise when he's in his study saying that 'he needs full concentration for his ancient runes' I tell you, not those runes are ancient, he's the ancient one here, I bet even the ruin guards are more fun to hang around, and that time I tried to cook for him and ended up burning the eggs? He reminds me of that time even now, not to talk about how his house is just full of books and all sort of stone tablets with runes, my head will explode once from all the stuff he has there and when I tell him that we should throw some things he gives me a death glare and that's it, the audacity he has... "Kaveh started complaining and you all had to give your best not to laugh at this poor man's hardships.

When you were done with the meal you all started talking.

"Thank you so much for this Cyno, it was really fun hanging out around old classmates!" you said and he gave you a small smile.

"It was my pleasure, now Tighnari you should probably head back to the forest camp, please take care of Collei on the way." Cyno said and Collei huffed.

"Mr. Cynooo I'm not a kid anymore I can take care of myself even without Mr. Tighnari's help!" she said and you smiled.

"Still wandering at night trough the forest can be dangerous collei, you both take care!" you said and Tighnari smiled.

"Don't worry, we will be careful, good night, we will see each other soon!" he said as he and Collei left.

"I should probably head back to the Akademiya too, I still have some things I need to take care of." Cyno said and you smiled.

"Take your time Cyno, after all your a human as well." you said and he nodded.

"I will don't worry, good night and in case any of you see Al Haitham wish him my regards." he said leaving. You looked at Kaveh and smiled.

"I know you don't want to hear this but, let's go back to Al Haithams place okay?" you said and he frowned putting his head on the table. You couldn't stop your laughter this time and you started to laugh.

"Why are you so mean to me sis..." he said and you just got up.

"I'm not but, we better head back now, I still have to give Al Haitham some papers and you certainly shouldn't wander on the streets at night." you said and he nodded.

The way to Al Haithams home was pretty short, it would took 5 minutes if Kaveh wouldn't stopped at every single building to complain about how he could do something better.

"And were here!" you said as you knocked at the door and Al Haitham opened. When he saw you his eyes became soft and he gave you a smile, but that smile dissappeared as quickly as he saw Kaveh behind you.

"Oh I see your back." he said and Kaveh closed his eyes.

"Yeah I know you missed me a lot but hold still smart-ass." he said while stepping inside and Al Haitham just shook his head exasperated.

You giggled again and he looked at you.

"And what's so funny hm?" he said while he lead you to his study.

"Ah its nothing, I just love how you and Kaveh get along so well, honestly I think the whole city knows that your roommates." you said and he just scoffed.

"Please at least you stop talking about him for once." he said while he embraced you and you smiled.

"Fine fine I'm done, oh by the way I brought these from the Akademiya, some students found some interesting relics and they gave it to me so you could have a look." you said and he took the tablets putting them on the table. After he turned to you and smiled.

"It's already getting late, how about you stay here for tonight, you live kind of far from here and I would hate to let you go home all on your own at this hour." he said and you blushed.

"Ah only if I'm not bothering." you said and he smiled cupping your face.

"You could never bother me." he said giving you a small peek on the lips.

"You both are very cheesy right now you know?" Kaveh said passing by the opened door and you became red hiding your face in Al Haitham's chest. Seeing this he looked at Kaveh like he normally would.

"You can just go and sleep, you had a long day anyways." he told him and Kaveh scoffed

"Yeah yeah right, thanks mom." he said while leaving and you laughed.

"He honestly has interesting ways to call you..." you said while looking up at Al Haitham and he looked at you.

"Yeah... I'm aware" he said with an annoyed face and you couldn't help but laugh. These two were incredible...

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #al haitham x reader #alhaitham x reader #sumeru #al haitham fluff #alhaitham drabble #alhaitham fluff

496 notes · View notes

aliypop · 4 months

Text

Pocket Full Of Rainbows

Word Count: 2,445

Writers Note: I wanted to expand more on Elaine and Elvis

Warning: Slight Homophobia (Not from Elvis)

Pairing: POC OC x Elvis / Oc Kid x Father Elvis

Summary: In 1974 Las Vegas is booming with Elvis yet again, with his twins at the concerts for the first time, but things get a bit Queer When Elvis, Cecelia, and Jessie start noticing something different about Elaine.

Taglist

@darkmoviesquotespizza

@sissylittlefeather

@richardslady121

@thegettingbyp2

@presleyenterprise

@sissylittlefeather

@dkayfixates

@rjmartin11

@thetaoofzoe

@your-nanas-house

@zayurir

@60svintage

@sillybookmarks

@leapresley

Las Vegas 1974

"You come here often?" The waiter said to Elaine. He was 16 years old, cute, had a job, and what any girl her age would rave over. Elvis had nudged Cecelia in hopes that their late-blooming daughter was finally into boys. Jessie knew that joy wouldn't last. Elaine was always awkward with men. She'd start talking about comics or science. Or something to throw them off, "No, but my parents do..." Elaine rolled her eyes at the boy as he kept trying,

"Your parents must be rich." Elaine smiled, trying her hardest to be nice, but she had that same aggravated face that both her parents made after a long night of shows.

"Well, I'm a Presley, if you couldn't tell with them sitting here..."

"You're being shy, aren't you..."

"Buddy, she just doesn't like ya'," Jessie said as Elvis and Cecelia tried to hold out their laughs,

"And who are you?"

"Her brother, now leave her alone, please." Jessie smiled as she was released,

"So you two liking Vegas much?" Elvis asked, eating his dinner with his own silverware.

"Yeah, I was thinking of seeing the showgirls..." Jessie smirked as Elvis laughed,

"Jessie Vernon Presley, you're 13," Jessie gulped. He could feel the glare in his mother's voice, "But Mama, I'm not gonna do anything stupid." he smirked at his father, which meant he was going to do something stupid, "Right Elaine... Elaine..."

Elaine had her sights on a redheaded showgirl. She looked about 16. and a work of art. Her feathers sat on her head like a lovely peacock, and her makeup was beautiful. Her eyes were an emerald green, and she was looking back at "Elaine? Somethins got your attention?"

"I-I-I was just, uh, looking at her costume." She gulped,

"Right, you were..."Jessie said. As Elaine kicked him under the table, the two bickering

"Hey, you two, stop it!" Cecelia sighed, "Your father and I have had a long night, and it's only gonna get longer with a midnight show!"

"Sorry, mama..."

"How's everyone's food?" a waitress in her early twenties came by. Elaine couldn't take her eyes off her. She was like Wonder Woman, "You're great I-I mean, it's great, uh..." Elaine got embarrassed as Elvis and Cecelia were a bit suspicious,

"Tone it down, E..." Jessie said, "The Eagle an Dove are catchin' on."

"The soup is amazing..." Elaine smiled. After dinner, Elvis and Cecelia went to their suite to get dressed as Jessie and Elaine went to explore The International Hotel,

"Elaine's been actin' funny lately..."Elvis mentioned as Cecelia helped him put on his necklace.

"I don't know when I was her age. I wasn't

much of a flirt either." She shrugged, "I mean, I couldn't tell if a guy was even flirting." She laughed as Elvis looked at her. All his life with Cecelia, he knew her to be a flirt.

"I don't know... When she's around girls, she gets all red and shy."

"Honey," Cecelia glanced at him,

"I know... That's how I get when I'm around you, all red and shy like a little baby." He laughed as she kissed his cheeks,

"Is that so..." She blushed,

"Always is." He pulled her in front of his slightly fuller frame. His face was a bit rounder than it used to be, but Cecelia loved him just the same.

"You don't think Elaine's hiding something, do you?" Elvis glanced down at his wife,

"E, you're gonna have to tell 'em, you're..."

"I'm what Jessie..." she glared at her brother, the two walking past the casino,

"A Cherry chaser."

SMACK!

"Ouch!" Jessie groaned, rolling his eyes, "The hell was that for!"

"That's a rude thing to say!" She grumbled, walking away from her brother,

"Hey, hey, hey, no disrespect, sis, I like girls too," He smiled as she tried to glare at her brother, but she couldn't help that he meant well, even if he was stupid,

"Awe, boys, Ruby doesn't wanna play with us !" a man said, attacking the showgirl from earlier, "She must be a muff diver or something..." A guy shoved her. The girl looked scared. She looked like she wanted to cry. Trying her best to walk past, "Probably under that makeup, she's a dyke..."

"HEY LEAVE HER ALONE!" Elaine shouted as Jessie sighed. If there was one thing he knew about Elaine, she learned all there was to fight from their father's movies, so if anything, this would look like a fight from Blue Hawaii.

"What, you her girlfriend or something!" The one man said, pushing Elaine. There was the feistiness of Cecelia in her eyes and the fieriness of Elvis in her fist. Drawing her hand back, she punched the man in his eye as Jessie jumped in to stop the other from trying anything. Jessie took Karate with Elvis cause it was a father-son bonding time activity, but did it come in handy.

"Are you okay..."

"Ruby..." The girl said,

"Pretty name." Jessie blushed as Elaine sighed. She'd definitely lose this battle. Jessie kissed her hand as the showgirl pulled it back,

"Thanks for saving me, uh..."

"Elaine Marie Love Presley." She winked, pushing her hair back. She hadn't noticed Ruby blushing, but Jessie did,

"Presley as in..."

"Caught in a trap... I can't walk out~"

"Yeah, as in the two playing in the theater." Elaine smiled, "You maybe wanna meet em?"

"In these clothes..."

"You get changed. Meet us back here." She smirked,

"Okay." She smirked, her perfume gliding by them both as they sighed happily,

"Good going, sis."

"What did I do?"

"Got yourself a..." He trailed off as he saw a few teenage girls walk by, "Talk about a thousand pretty women waiting out there..."

"Yeah, for you." She said as he laughed,

"Good luck on your date, and don't forget you gotta tell 'em."

Elaine didn't know how to. She knew her mother and father. They'd love her, but they were traditional and very religious. Elaine and Jessie hadn't missed church or a church equivalence since she could remember. She knew they'd tell her. She'd be in a world of ruin and a first-class trip to hell, but she liked girls, and she tried so hard to get the rhythm of boys, but it wasn't her guitar to play.

"I hope this isn't a lot..." Ruby said she was out of her makeup and wig, and she had on a dress and flowers in her hair,

"You look perfect," Elaine said, walking towards the stage door, their hands brushing against each other,

Graceland 1974

"Well, since my Ruby left me... I found a new place to dwell. It's right at the end of lonely street. Vegas is where it dwells and-" Elaine began to sing as she strummed her guitar. Elaine had been silently going through a breakup with Ruby, who only found her attractive because she was the daughter of Elvis and Cecelia. They had exchanged secret letters and phone calls, or at least she thought,

"Hey, uh, me and my friends are gonna rehearse if you wanna maybe join us?" Jessie offered. He hated seeing Elaine like this,

"No thanks..."

"Estella's gonna be there..."

"Well, now that you add..." She jolted out of her bed and did her hair. Elaine had a big crush on Estella. She was the definition of cool. Blonde short hair, her blue eyes, her freckles, her Tupelo accent, and her skateboard.

"I found letters in Elaine's room," Elvis said as Rising Sun was beside Lightning Bolt, Cecelia's horse. "Elvis..." She looked at her husband as he sighed, "You go snoopin. You'll find what you're lookin for," She said as he nodded. Elvis was getting worried, Elaine was being more distant lately, and she was short when they'd both ask her about school crushes, "I know, but she's hiding somethin. I don't know what, but damnit! I thought we'd be good parents where they can trust in us, you know!" Elvis was getting angry as Cecelia stopped her horse to walk over to him,

"The twins are 13. They're going through teenage angst." She added,

"But honey..."

"Honeybutter..." She squished his cheeks, "We're great parents, or at least as great as we can be. They're fed, loved, clothed, loved, taken care of, loved, listened to, loved," She kissed him as Elaine saw them. There was a pit in her stomach as she knew she'd never get that joy,

"So... Elaine..."

"Yes, Estella?" Her heart began to pound as she looked up at her,

"Jessie tells me you play guitar. And you sing a little." She smiled as Elaine nodded, the prettiest masculine girl she'd ever seen, "Y-Yeah, I do... I mean, my parents are singers, so it runs in the family and-" Estella gave her a peck on the cheek, and Elaine turned red, holding her cheek,

"Was I ramblin..."

"A little, I think it's cute."

"I think you're cute!" She blurted out as Estella blushed. She looked like a strawberry, "Unless you know this isn't your thing, and I'm assuming, and maybe I'm just being stupid an-" Estella leaned in and kissed her quick,

"HEY TUPELO!"

"WHAT, JP!"

"WE'RE STARTIN!"

"You're red?" Elvis looked at his daughter as she blushed even more, "I-I have a fever!" she nodded, "I don't feel good..."

"So then Tupelo says. I'm playing the chords wrong!" Jessie rolled his eyes as Elvis and Cecelia laughed, "Like it's my mama's song, I'd never play it wrong!" He said as Elaine looked at him,

"Maybe she's right..."

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Oh yeah, you're agreeing with her 'cause she kissed you!" Jessie shouted as he soon after realized what he'd done,

"She kissed you?" Elvis and Cecelia said in unison

"Ellie, i'm so-"

"Yes! She did, I-I..." There was a pit in her stomach, but she couldn't turn back now. The cat would be soon out of the bag, but it needed to be, "Mama... Daddy, I like girls..." Elaine said the room was filled with silence as she sighed,

"Elaine, you're only 13 years old. You don't know what you like!?" Elvis said, his fist on the table as she glared at him,

"You two, calm down!" Cecelia said, "Elaine, please explain why you think this is..."

"Well, I really knew when I was 12. That I didn't like boys like the girls in my class did. I can talk to them as friends, but... I-" Elvis shook his head. He was confused as to how this happened, how he and Cecelia managed to miss the signs.

"You what... saw a girl, thought guess I'll try that!"Elvis interjected,

"I thought she was pretty, and today she kissed me! and-" Elaine cried as she ran off to her bedroom,

"We're not done with this!" Elvis grumbled,

"I'll talk to her." Jessie followed his sister,

"Elvis Aaron Presley!" Elvis was in the dog house when his wife used his full name, his blue eyes looking at her desperation. He didn't mean to upset his baby girl, "I know I gotta make it right." He sighed,

"Not till you tell me about your outburst..."

"Cece..."

"Elvis..." Her brows furrowed,

"Alright, fine, I don't want her gettin hurt out there... People ain't gonna accept her, and they'll say mean things or-or take advantage or-"

"I don't know if you noticed Elvis, but we weren't socially accepted either..." Cecelia laughed,

"Cause our music..."

"Cause of our love," She kissed his forehead, "I'm a little disappointed too. She won't marry a man or have grandchildren, but God told us to love one another. And that's our baby. She needs our support more than anyone."

"But..."

"Ah...Ah, she's already got it rough, being she and her brother are mixed, but she's Presley tough," She said as Elvis sighed,

"I need to think,"

Elaine was sobbing into her pillow when she heard a soft knock on the door,

"Little pumpkin..."

"Mama..."

"Can we talk?"

"Okay..." Cecelia sat on her bed, "Is Daddy mad at me..."

"No, he could never be. He loves you. It's just this surprised us both,"

"I'm sorry it's-"

"No need to be sorry, honey muffin. Can I tell you a story?" Elaine nodded as she laid her head in her mother's lap. "There was a girl who fell in love with an incredible boy back in 54. They were inseparable, but society didn't exactly like that."

"Why..."

"Well she was black, and he was white."

"Did they stop loving each other?" Elaine asked as Cecelia softly combed through ther hair, "No, They fought to be seen together, to love loud together," Cecelia swooned,

"Did they win?!"

"Well, Christmas, we'll be together for 14 years now," Elaine gasped as she realized she was talking about her and her father,

"Well, why are you telling me this mama?"

"Cause, I know we may not understand fully why, but I do know if you like this girl. Or this lifestyle, you're gonna have to fight for your love, fight to love loud, and fight to say I'm here, I exist, and you will see me." Cecelia smiled,

"So you're not mad..."

"Not at all. After all, Aunt Midge likes women, and Uncle Richard likes men. " Cecelia laughed, "Heck, I think Ann Margaret is so pretty I'd kiss her if I could." Elaine blushed hearing that,

"I think I'll go talk to Daddy."

Elvis was outside in the meditation garden praying for guidance. He knew his daughter needed his love more than his misguided judgments. "Daddy... Can we talk?" She asked as Elvis looked up and saw her, patting a seat next to him as she sat down, "I-I know it's a lot to take in. But, it's how I was made to live and-" Elvis hugged his daughter tight, "I'm proud of you, I may not fully understand it, Little Biscuit, but I'll get around to it," He ruffled up her hair as smiled at him,

"Guess you're a true, Presle."

"Why's that, Daddy?" She looked up at him

"Cause the ladies can't resist us." He kissed her forehead,

"You're funny."

*Bonus*

"So then I told Estella. That I would go to the dance with her!" Jessie mimicked her words as Cecelia and Elvis listened, "How'd you manage that." Elvis asked, and Jessie mocked her still. Elaine curled her lip, quirked her eyebrow, and said, "I got close and said I wanna play house with you,"

Elvis and Cecelia both choked on their drinks,

"You what!?"

"It's my favorite song of Daddy and... Does it not mean you want to play house like pretend ..."

"Oh, sweetie... please keep eating before you give us gray hair early." Elvis laughed.

#oc #fanfiction #new stuff #new #elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis x oc #70s elvis #poc oc x elvis #coming out fanfic #cecelia valmos #elvis x oc kid

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clockworkstarlight · 1 year

Note

does a devious little giggle and twirls my hair. So how's GA doing...(evil laughter echoes)

OH PIP YOU'RE LIKE AN EVIL WIZARD YOU KNOW THAT. But anyways time for GA talkin

GA is literally living her best life, i mean, running an indie newspaper with your moirail? (YES HER AND EJ ARE MOIRAILS IVE NEVER TOLD THAT. GIGGLES) girlie is living the dream, and about her romantic life..

let's just say she found a certain hearts mobster once in a library (totally not searching for romantic novels) and it was basically love at first sight, not even gonna mention their matching axes cause you know how it is. she wondered why EJ was so surprised when she first told her about her new boyfriend but well.. it is one of the guys EJ worked with in the era where the kingpin still was alive, but GA herself doesn't seem to mind. after all, to her he's just a good man who sometimes comes home covered in blood of his enemies, with his axe more bloody than ever and maybe sometimes a half eaten corpse or two. never know what kind of thing he comes back home with in the morning, but thats never surprised GA anyway. EJ on the other hand... since she lives in the same apartment, she definitely gets a bit disturbed.

i hope i didnt misunderstand your ask teehee, if i did feel free to resend it! every oc ask you make makes me happy teehee

#✧ post #✰ misc ocs #WAITER! WAITER! PLEASE MORE OC ASKS #✱ ocs

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empressofmankind · 8 months

Text

The Show Must Go On - Pt. 1

Buggy x F!OC

Waitering at Baratie is not a bad life, but that doesn't mean life couldn't be better. That life didn't use to be better.

It's Wednesday evening, and that means entertainment is on the menu for the restaurant's late night diners. She enjoys doing so, truly, but her mood has been spiraling and she's not feeling it today. (Un)fortunately, she is not the only entertainer in the room. And the show must go on.

Tags: Fluffy like black cotton candy. Pre-amble to a whole lotta will-they-wont-they. No smut (yet) :(

Word count: 4.7k

{PART II}

A/N: For those of you new here, coming in from the OPLA tags: I enjoy writing character driven stories - thus the OC and not a Reader-insert. I am the type of author that gleefully goes through their baggage and holds a yard sale. And Buggy has a lot of baggage.

PS. I know it's no longer the 90s, and this isn't geocities, but please listen 'Party at Baratie' with Buggy's entrance. I promise, it won't disappoint.

Baratie wasn’t full yet, but it would be by the time the clock struck ten. It always was on Wednesday nights. Shivs cleared the table as the couple rose to shrug on their coats and leave. They were regulars, a fisherman and his wife who liked their baked cod with a generous helping of Zeff’s home ground mustard. More often than not, they brought the fish for their dish. She liked them. They were nice people, quiet people. Baratie’s late night diners tended not to be.

“Ah, a free table.”

Shivs didn’t like the tone of his voice, and never had. “And you are?” she said as she turned around. Even though she knew perfectly well.

“Captain Nezumi of the 16th Branch,” the marine standing behind her said with a huff that made his mouse-like whiskers twitch.

Tall, slim and pointy-faced, he always reminded her distinctly of that rodent. Where’s a cat when you need one, she thought. Shivs crooked an eyebrow, slow and deliberate. “Who?”

“I don’t have to ask who you are,” he hissed, whiskers trilling. “Goji berry red hair, missing eye: short-straw Shivs. A pirate.”

“A waiter.” Shivs wiped down the table. “Reservations go through Xavier.” She raised her hand to alert the maître d’ at the top of the stairs.

“Illegal seaters,” she said as the timid fishman approached them.

“Well, have I never!” she heard Nezumi sputter as she left. Making her way to another table in need of clearing, she was stopped by other regulars — louder regulars. Toby and his crew. Four in all, they were about her own age. She looked at the hand on her elbow, old bruises around the knuckles.

“What is it?” she said as she turned to them and shook it.

“Will there be a show tonight?” Toby grinned, showing off a silver canine through black bangs.

“No, I don’t think so. Can I get you boys anything?”

“It’s Wednesday!” Toby spread his hands in mock disbelief. “There cannot not be a show! We put in real effort to stay sober this long.” The way his grin was lopsided suggested otherwise.

“Tough luck,” Shivs said as she stacked their pint glasses.

A hand around her wrist, the one steadying the glassware. She followed it up his arm and to his face. He’d plastered a preposterous pout on it. “I don’t need luck.”

She considered tugging her wrist, letting him smash the glasses as he pulled her back. And stabbing him in the face with one. “Does that grimace ever work for you?”

Sanji appeared at her side, a tray on his fingertips. “Leave madam alone or I’ll have you lot banned permanently this time.”

Making the smart choice, Toby let go.

“Your drinks, gentlemen,” Sanji said as he took pints from his tray and put them in front of the four pirates. Shivs left while they were distracted. There was not going to be a show tonight, she decided. Fuck them.

At the sudden shouting, followed by a deafening roar and a cackle, Shivs abruptly turned to look behind her. Yet the commotion was up the steps and near the restaurant entrance, where Xavier attempted to calm the motley crowd roused before him. Which included a lion. A large lion with a lilac coat and mane, and red face paint daubed on his snout. Customers seated below had risen to look, too. A woman screamed when the lion roared once more, the sound reverberating through the wooden beams of Baratie’s hull.

“Animals are not allowed inside, good sirs.” Xavier’s nervous voice rose only just above the ruckus.

“Animal? Richie is no mere animal —.”

Shivs squinted, her jaw jutting a little forward. Is that a clown?

“—he is a founding member of my troupe!”

“Richie?” Xavier’s voice pitched as he leafed through his register book. “Oh, ah, he’s on the list. I see. That makes, um, how many?”

“Thirteen.”

“Why yes, of course.” Xavier pushed his glasses up his nose and closed his book. He turned towards the dining room at the bottom of the stairs and caught Shivs’ gaze, motioning her towards the long table in front of the hall’s modest stage.

Taking the hint, Shiv shook out her cloth and went to it.

Xavier coughed for attention, and the few diners that hadn’t been staring up yet turned to do so now. “Captain Buggy,” he announced with sober dignity. “And, hrm. Crew.”

“No. No-no-nono. That is no good!” The blue-haired captain shooed Xavier out of his spot. In red stripes, baggy pants and schmink, he did look like a clown. One that had slept the past week in the bilge. Shivs wondered if he’d reek.

“Spotlight!” He said with a wave of his gloved hand. Benji, the techie that worked the stage lights and curtains during shows, obliged with a nice bright beam, sparkling off the captain’s wide grin. Where the jaunty music came from, Shivs had no idea.

“I am Buggy,” he announced, and it animated his whole face. “Buggy, the Star Clown. Buggy, the Flashy Fool. Buggy, the—.”

“Pirate.”

The music scratched to a stop as Buggy turned on his boot heel to the speaker. It was Nezumi, standing prim with his unit beside the table he’d been denied.

“And your name is?” Buggy pulled a grimace as if he’d found three-day-old cotton candy stuck to his glove. Then it became a grin again, though this time it didn’t reach his eyes. “Nooo, let me guess: Captain Obvious?”

Shivs snorted as a woman in a glittery leotard held up a sign that read ‘laugh’ in gaudy calligraphy, and the diners did.

“My sincere apologies, captain Nezumi,” Xavier said as he ushered the marines away. “But you have no reservation and I must therefore ask you to leave.”

“Toodles!” Buggy said with a little wave.

The spotlight trailed after the marines slinking away, but Buggy snapped his fingers and it promptly returned to him.

“Now, where was I?” He straightened to his full height and adjusted his hat. “Ah yes, I am Buggy!” The music restarted as he flicked out his coat tails behind him and sashayed down the steps, his timing to the tune and his own words impeccable. “Buggy, the Star Clown. Buggy, the Flashy Fool. Buggy, the Genius Jester!” He spread his arms wide as his grin. “Has come to your magnificent establishment with his fabulously flashy troupe!”

Acrobats spilled from behind him, flanking his descent with handstands down the steps and sliding along the curving railings. There was a fire-breather too, causing many ohs and ahs. And the lion, of course, roaring once more.

Shivs gave the table a quick wipe down as they came towards her, spotlight and lion and wide smiles and all. Buggy paused beside her, head cocked, bicorne comically askew.

“What?” she said.

He pouted and pointed at the table. “Missed a spot, candy cane.”

She realised her mistake the moment she leaned forward to look, but he’d already flicked her nose with a cackle. At least the laughter around her sounded forced.

She was going to say something about polishing someone’s overly large nose but didn’t. Up close, she wasn’t so sure it wasn’t real. And she’d glimpsed half a dozen stilettos lining the inside of that tacky fur coat when he bend towards her. No one carried that many unless they knew how to throw them.

Instead, she pulled out the chair at the head of the table for him, and he seemed properly surprised for a moment.

“Such service,” he said as he crossed his long legs and sat down, his grin broad and toothy. She moved her gaze up and narrowly avoided it lingering on his nose. His eyes were as blue as clear ocean skies and framed by impressively long lashes for a man. They batted up at her and that did something. She wondered if the red lipstick covering half his face would smear even further if she kissed him. Wondered if Zeff might actually fire her for it. She had a suspicion this was the ‘special guest’ the old cook had alluded to.

He certainly looked special.

The lion’s grumbled roar drew both their attention.

“There are only twelve seats,” Buggy observed with a note of displeasure.

Xavier all but appeared at his elbow out of nowhere. “Apologies, truly. Perhaps, a divan for the noble beast?”

Buggy glanced at Richie, who sat down with a plop like an overly large dog. He motioned between his own and the seat of a man in a poorly done bear costume. Or was that meant to be a lion also?

“Put it here,” he said, then turned to Shivs, an edge of teeth peeking through his red smile. “Honey cake, the menu?”

“I’ll fetch the chef,” she said. “Would you like something to wet your tongue, in the mean time?”

“North Blue gin?”

She’d somehow expected him to order a cocktail. “Not something sweet?”

His grin managed to split wider yet as his blue eyes flicked down and up. “Are you ‘something sweet’?”

“No.”

He winked and clicked his tongue for emphasis. “Then no.”

“A’right,” Shivs said and made her way back to the galley at the rear of the restaurant. She spotted Zeff by the stove, tasting a creamy-looking soup.

“Needs more oregano,” the old chef muttered under his breath.

“A whole damn circus just arrived,” she said as she walked up to him.

“Ah, good, I was expecting him.” Zeff put the soup ladle down and he turned to her. “Pirate captain. His name is Buggy—.”

“—the clown,” Shivs finished with a chortle. “The face paint gave the surprise away. You know him?”

“We met, briefly. Long time ago,” he brushed her question aside as he wiped his hands on a dishcloth.

“Haven’t seen his mug on paper?” she said. Though that in and of itself wasn’t so strange. Zeff kept Baratie free of that sort of tacky wallpaper. Those who knew, knew. Those who didn’t, dined none the wiser. And she hadn’t left Baratie in… some time.

“It graces a few towns and forts, I imagine,” he said with a smile. “Though probably not as many as he’d like.”

Yes, that ego had been hard to miss. Shivs tilted her head. “How much is his bounty?”

“Twelve million, last print I saw? Probably gone up since then.”

“That’s not bad for the East Blue,” she said, actually surprised. He must have some tricks up his sleeves. It made her think of the knives. And those cheeky blue eyes batting up at her. “Xavier seated them at the oval table. Asked for the menu, told him I’d fetch the chef.”

“Is that so?” Zeff chuckled. “I best get to them then.”

“Zeff.”

The chef paused halfway moving past her.

“I am not performing,” Shivs said. “Not tonight.”

He turned back to her, a frown drawing his bushy eyebrows down. “You like doing it?”

She set her jaw. “If you want a show, ask the clown. I’m sure, if you ask plenty nicely, he’ll have his whole freakshow up on the tables in no time.”

Zeff gave her a fond look. “Our Wednesday guests come for you.”

“No doubt he has some in his troupe as well, if that’s what they want to see.”

“If you want to become better at it, you’ll have to practice.” Humour sparkled in the old pirate chef’s eyes. “Maybe you can get some professional critique, huh?”

From a clown? Her thoughts scoffed. Although, he did have all those knives. People weren’t always 'one act' wonders.

She pursed her lips. “Fine.”

“Atta girl.” He gave her shoulder a good squeeze and a little shake. “Can you start on the dishes until then?”

“Sure.”

By the time ten o’clock came around, Baratie was packed. It always was on Wednesday nights. Shivs had taken off the blouse she wore under her waiter’s vest. This way, she had better freedom of movement. She removed the scarf she wore around her throat and tied up her red hair in a bun. Then adjusted the diving knife in her left boot, concealing it from view.

Coming out of the employee’s toilet and left around the stage from the back, she saw Xavier already stood upon the planks limed in the light of Benji’s spotlight.

“Dear ladies, honoured gentlemen,” Xavier said with solemn dignity. The diners quieted as the lights in the hall dimmed and the spotlight brightened, setting a shimmer to the maître d’s well-manicured scales. “May I introduce to you—.”

“BoooOOOooo!”

Buggy, hands touted beside his mouth like a megaphone as he rose from his seat.

“Sir!” Xavier admonished at the blatant breach of proper etiquette.

The spotlight jumped to the clown, who stood in it like a flower turning towards the sun.

You really love yourself limed in stage lights, don’t you? Shivs thought, standing in the shadows off-stage.

“This is not a show,” Buggy said in a tone as if a great offence had been committed. He spread his arms wide. “This is a farce!”

Before anyone could stop him, he’d hopped on stage, the spotlight kissing his heels. He blatantly stepped in front of Xavier and turned to the diners.

“Grand folk! Welcome, welcome!” he proclaimed with animated gestures — he talked with his whole body. “Tonight, you will have the rare pleasure, the absolute singular privilege, of being the very first to witness Buggy’s Astoundingly Flashy Impromptu Diner Show!”

The lights did a little colour switching dance at his last words. Benji was having fun, at least.

The dinner guests applauded even before the woman held up her sign. Visibly delighted, Buggy turned to Shivs. “You need an introducing act, caramel popsicle.” He beckoned in the direction of his crew without breaking his gaze away. “Cabaji!”

A lanky young adult rose, followed by several fellows. Acrobats and jugglers, turned out. The diners liked it well enough, but the applause was notably less than before. Shivs frowned at the flicker of irritation flitting under the surface of Buggy’s expression the split second before his perpetual grin reasserted itself.

“Next, all the way from the deep, dark South Blue,” Buggy announced, his tone low and dangerous. “A true wild beast, a known man-eater!”

The audience gasped unprompted as the lion came onto the stage with a great roar, the man in the poorly made suit in its wake. Its handler, Shivs supposed.

An elderly lady at a front table, attired in a fabulously expensive appearing gown, waved her fan all but on the brink of fainting.

“Fear not, sweetest of candied apples,” Buggy said, leaning forward from the stage to take her hand and allow for a dramatic pause. He kissed the air just above her silken glove. “Fear not. For the monster is no more.” He rose, spreading his arms as he turned towards the lion while addressing the diners: “He is now Richie, the dancing lion!”

And, sure enough, at a prompt of his handler, the lion rose on its hind legs and danced. It stepped from one paw unto the other, side step here, side step there, turning in a circle and pawing with a front leg punctuated by a much sweeter roar.

The applause was genuine and excellent as the lion sat down with a plop and yawned.

“And now~,” Buggy started.

“FuCk oFF!”

Toby, from somewhere in the rear. Shivs saw Buggy’s hand twitch at his interruption and knew what that meant. Short fuse.

“I am here to see my girl!” Toby added, supported by the hoots of his friends.

Buggy glanced at her and she made a puking face that returned a grin to his. He beckoned her and as she climbed on stage; she resisted the urge to ask if his act was throwing knives, perhaps? But only just. She had about reached his side when Toby opened his mouth again.

“Nobody is here to see your ugly mug, you red-nosed freak!”

Buggy froze.

His crew shrank away.

And those were all the tells Shivs needed, really.

“What did you say…?” Buggy said as he turned slowly towards the audience, a wink of spotlight along concealed blades as his coat shifted with his movement.

“Captain Buggy!” His blue eyes snapped unto her and she held them. “It is time for my act now, isn’t it? It’s been such a wait, is it my turn finally?”

“It is!” he said and his grin split to show teeth again. “It is time!” Buggy spread his arms in sweeping gestures towards her. “For the one, and only, fabulously flashy~!”

He leaned towards her, his tone and mime overacted confusion. “I didn’t catch your name, popcorn pop?”

The audience laughed.

“Shivs,” Shivs said.

He made a comically stabby gesture, and she chuckled despite herself, and the audience with her. “Yes, just like those.”

“The Superbly Spectacular Shivs!” Buggy concluded with a sweeping arch of his arms. The spotlight jumped on her as gold foil poppers showered her in glimmering sparkles and the audience clapped.

He turned to her, his smile all tooth and wide as an oar. “What is your act?”

Not what you think, she thought at the sparkle of cheek in his blue eyes. Instead of an answer, Shivs lifted her left foot slowly, and drew the arm length diving knife from her boot. She flipped and caught it midair, holding it now by the hilt, the blade tip down. Stretching her arm, she lifted it above her head, never breaking their gaze until she had to.

Shivs stretched, straightened and tipped her head back, aligning her esophagus with her spine. She took a deep breath, then let it escape as she slid the blade down her throat. Unblinking, she held her breath and watched the hilt approach. When she felt the short crossguard rest on both corners of her mouth, she let go of the hilt and spread her hands.

Applause exploded from the audience as she turned a full circle, showing a bare neck all around.

She retrieved the blade with care and bowed.

Rising, Shivs glanced at Buggy and saw his eyes were positively gleaming. He clapped no less excitedly than the diners.

“Encore!” an elderly man called as he rose while vigorously clapping, and the call was taken up by the others.

“The audience wants more,” Buggy said, chuffed as if he’d done it himself.

“This is all I can do.”

“No no, that’s no good,” he said with a click of his tongue. “The show must go on.”

Buggy turned to the audience. “Do you want to see the Stunningly Flashy Shivs swallow another blade?” he asked, and the response was unfortunately deafening. “Or two?!”

“Are you insane?” she hissed, grabbing his sleeve.

Buggy turned to her, smiling wide as ever.

And out came the knives.

Four stilettos, similar in type if not in make, precisely. He held the hilts clenched between the fingers of one fist.

“Pick any two.”

This was a terrible idea. She hadn’t done double blades before. His knives were shorter and thinner than her own blade, sure. But multiple meant more insertion time, a longer breath.

Sword-swallowers fucked up only once.

She picked the two that seemed most similar, digging the hilts from between his fingers. She weighed them, one in each hand, gauging their balance.

Then held them up to the audience, eliciting a few encouraging cheers.

She flinched at the twin ‘thunk’ of Buggy throwing the remaining two into the stage’s floorboard. “No foldables here,” he assured the diners, who held onto his every word with baited breaths.

There were many people. Familiar, unfamiliar. Sitting, shifting, fidgeting. She turned to Buggy, training her gaze on him. No distractions. Easier to focus on one face than on a crowd. His expression was eager, his mouth a fraction open. She could see an edge of teeth, the tip of his tongue.

This better not be the image I am taking with me to the grave, she thought as she tilted her head and rolled her eyes at the ceiling. She flipped one stiletto, then the other, bringing the tips up above her head.

She closed her eyes.

Banished that look on his face.

Focus.

She steadied herself, breathing in time with her heartbeat. One deep breath. Two deep breaths. On the third, she blew out and let one stiletto slide down her throat.

4… 5… 6… So far, so good. No new trick, this. But now for the second one, and no deflation to aid the ease of passage.

9…10… She guided it along the blade of the first, counting her heartbeats since breathing out.

15…16…17… The slow heat of suffocation started its ascend from within her chest.

24…25… The second crossguard joined the first. Sweat beaded on her forehead. The applause came from miles away as she spread her trembling hands.

28…29…30… She turned on her heels for an eternity.

32…33…34… Her vision tunnelled as she grabbed their hilts. Her throat shifted, her tongue twitching backward.

And then they were out, and she drew in the breath of the drowning, great gulps of it as she blinked stars from her eyes.

They focussed on Buggy.

His eyebrows had drawn up into a pout, but cotton candy clouds drifted past his wide blue eyes. Her gaze dodged his nose and landed on his mouth. He was biting his bottom lip. Her eyes flicked down, but his baggy pants and sash revealed nothing, or hid everything.

She flipped the stilettos and held them hilt first out to him. “These are yours.”

He snapped out of it with a smile, taking them off her hands and bending down to fetch the ones sunk into the floorboards.

Shivs pursed her lips, watching his butt shift. It was only fair, that look on his face had been a whole lot of something. Stupid clown.

He farewelled the show with the same flourish and drama he’d initiated it. The spotlight dimmed, the curtains closed, and the audience applauded one final time.

“That was more than perfect cherry tootsie,” Buggy beamed as they walked off-stage.

“I regret everything,” Shivs said. A slow, pulsing headache whined at the back of her neck. Her throat was sore. She hoped she hadn’t nicked anything.

Buggy’s face fell faster than the curtains at her words. “You are a talent, a natural, unique,” he said, all hands and exaggerated encouragements as he spoke. “You will be great one day, the greatest! Famous! Performing on the Grand Line, in the New World!”

He was right in front of her now, all but nose to nose. “You are a class act. You are one of a kind. You are—.”

“—in pain.”

“Chocolate toffee you must rest,” he said in a tone people usually got before launching into a hug or some other type of physical reassurance. It never came. He just looked at her with a concerned pout and held his own hands.

She smiled weakly. “I’ll live.”

“You must,” he grinned, then produced a shimmering golden ticket from an inside pocket of his coat. He held it between two fingers and out to her. “You should join my crew.”

“I’ll think about it,” Shivs said as she took the card without really looking at it, and out of politeness more than anything. Short fuse.

She watched him leave with a spring in his step.

It was a long while before the last diners had left, and longer still until the gold confetti had been cleaned up. Shivs sat at the bar, broom leaned against the stool beside her. Baratie was presentable once more. There was a pile of dishes, but those could wait till tomorrow. The ticket Buggy had given her laid on the bar beside her glass of water. It was a gaudy, gold foil iteration of an old-timey circus entrance pass. The front was graced by a red-nosed Jolly Roger, and the back told her on which slip the ship was docked and when they’d leave. Big Top, slip 9. Tomorrow, at 07:00. She’d smiled at the name, wondering if it would look as ridiculous as its captain. Probably.

“Saw you talk,” Zeff said.

Shivs spooked out of her thoughts at his words, not having heard him approach. He stood beside her, drying the last of the pint glasses.

“Any good feedback?”

She pinned the ticket with her middle finger and slid it towards him across the bar. Zeff put the glass down, the dish cloth across his shoulder, and wiped his hands before picking it up.

“Asked you to join his crew?” he said as he read the ticket.

“Hah. Told me to join his crew, more like.”

Zeff handed it back to her. “Will you?”

Shivs wound the ticket around her finger, making the foil crinkle and crackle in the silence. She ran her tongue past her teeth.

“No.”

The short word sounded dry and definitive.

“No,” she repeated as she shook her head and let the ticket unfurl from her finger and fall onto the bar. “He’s weird and pushy.”

“He’s an odd one.” Zeff set the broom aside and sat on the barstool beside her. “Though all pirate captains are, this old cook included.” There was humour in his tone. “The sea gets peculiar with you, you know this.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. It’d been years since she had sailed. She’d thought it would have been different, that last time. That their bond would have mattered. She pulled a stray bang free and watched the red strands slip through her fingers. You pushed your will with smiles, but pushed it all the same.

Zeff gave her a gentle nudge. “He asked you to join his crew, not to marry him.”

Privately, she wasn’t so sure all of them understood the distinction. She did miss the ocean. Baratie was ever at sea, but it was not the same. She realised, she’d held out hope he’d come back. Even though he had told her — 'I am not coming back.'

It made her angry. Angry with him, for leaving. Angry with herself, for. For what? Defaulting to existing instead of living?

Zeff observed her in silence.

“I like my life,” she said. “Here, with you and Sanji. The restaurant, our guests. It’s nice.” And it was, and she refused to be ungrateful. To just… leave.

“Your dream is not becoming a cook,” Zeff said as he tried to catch her gaze. “You’re young yet. You enjoyed being a pirate.”

Shivs looked at the ticket, wrinkled but shining no less for it.

“What is your dream?” he asked gently.

To not be miserable, she thought, then shrugged, half-heartedly. “Swallow the biggest sword on the Grand Line, I guess.”

That drew a chuckle from the old cook. “You are still a pirate, and you want to become the best sword-swallower across the Blue.” His gaze flicked from her to the ticket and back. “Sounds to me, this is the crew to be.”

12 million, she thought. It was not nothing, but. “I don’t want to tie myself to an anchor thrown into the East Blue.”

“You know, I once met a captain along the Grand Line while searching for the All Blue.” Amusement tugged at the corner of Zeff's lips. “Decent fellow, solid crew. Though I distinctly remember being mouthed off by someone with a red nose.”

Shivs cocked her head. “He’s sailed the Grand Line? Under whom?”

“A good captain. Went before his time, really.” Zeff’s face clouded with sorrow. “Famous now only for his last words and lost treasure.”

Shivs speared the ticket with a finger. “That’s a former Roger pirate?” Impossible. “He can’t be that old.” He was maybe a few years older than her, tops. “He’d have been—.”

Zeff smiled. “—half as tall as he is now.”

Shivs sat back, crossing her arms. Thinking.

“Why would he leave the Grand Line?”

Now it was Zeff who shrugged. “Ask him?”

“That’ll go over well, I am sure,” Shivs huffed, amused despite herself. Hi, why did you tail it out of the Grand Line? Oh, it was embarrassing? Oops. No, not bloody likely that she’d ask.

Zeff observed her for a moment, then said: “Will you be skipping breakfast, tomorrow?”

Shivs glanced at the ticket. The ship, the slip, the time. She smoothed the creases out of the jolly Roger, running a finger right across its big red nose.

“I’ll think about it.”

Zeff patted her shoulder and rose. “You do that, girl.”

Shivs watched him leave, listened to the tap of his peg-leg receding. Then rose, crumpled the ticket and threw it on the ground.

Tag list: @gingernut1314 @gabegade

Stupid clown.

{PART II}

#buggy live action #buggy the clown #buggy one piece #buggy x oc #opla fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #one piece live action #captain buggy #OPLA #opla buggy #Buggy pirates #the show must go on #buggy thoughts #imperial fiction #imperial shenanigans

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izvmimi · 1 year

Text

a/n: not me butting into other people's aus but i love @strawberrystepmom's kakashi x reader au so much!!!

cw: alcohol mention. reader is at brunch with a friend (oc)!

"so you're fucking the hokage, huh?"

you nearly spit out the drink in your mouth while maemi looks at you, unphased by the words coming out of her mouth, and stirs her drink. it's 11am, there's relentless hustle and bustle at this outdoor restaurant, and the soft breeze of early spring is not enough to abate the heat rising from your mostly bare shoulders up to your jawline.

"shhh!!!" you hiss, leaning in, as though you're suddenly surrounded by reporters. maemi blinks.

"damn, you didn't even argue with me." she laughs as your complexion reddens even more, and takes another bite of eggs benedict. you're covering your face now, embarrassment thick and unrelenting, and she chews and swallows before leaning in.

"don't worry, no one is listening in. plus i'm pretty good at misdirection - good grades in genjutsu class, remember?" she insists.

you shoot her a dirty look before rising to a regular sitting position, and adjusting the pleats of your spring dress.

"fine, a codename." maemi suggests. "are we going with your usual?"

you sigh. "That Man and I have not fucked yet."

maemi looks at you, contemplating, then takes another bite.

"he's fingered you under the table, right?" she asks.

"please!"

maemi takes a sip of her mimosa, nonchalant, and gulps it down a little too quick. "manabu told me, and if he knows, more people know than you think."

your blood seems to run cold, or is it early spring chill? you can't tell. her partner doesn't seem like the gossipy type, but he does work close enough to the hokage's office that it is feasible that he's heard something - or worse, heard something.

"you know, i could tell that once you started this job it would end up like this." she taps her forehead with the back of one of her chopsticks. "you know, the authority kink and everything?"

you take out your hand and place it on the table, palm up. "knock me out right now, to be honest." maemi looks down at your hand then looks up.

"oh no, you're gonna have to ask the alcohol to do that for you." she says, declining to waste her chakra. with that statement, she finishes the rest of her mimosa, then raises her hand up for the waiter to bring them another round of drinks. once the order is given, her eyes turn foxlike as she smiles at you again.

"hey, can you get the hokage to promote me? i'm not gonna be able to compete with nepotism baby sakura at this point, unless i have some kind of backer."

you snort. "i don't think being a former hokage's apprentice necessarily counts as nepotism. maybe she's just good."

maemi furrows her eyebrows. "listen, i may not be as good as her but i'm not garbage and i need someone powerful to back me-"

you raise a hand. "even if i WERE-" you pause, then bite your lip before continuing, "making love to current Lord Sixth-"

"is that what you call him in bed?"

you can feel your head start to pound before giggling maemi raises her own hands in defeat. "sorry, no more jokes."

you cut your eyes at her, and continue, "- what makes you think i can ask that?"

maemi leans in, brown eyes glowing with humor at her own jokes. "just give him the old spit shine and be like, so i have this really, really talented friend-"

"get out." you hiss.

your next round of drinks come, and you dig into a plate of potatoes and chase it down with iced coffee. as the conversation shifts away from the fact that you are notably entangled with the most powerful man in konoha at the moment, you consider what it might mean for your future, both as a biographer but also as someone who hopes to live quietly in this country. maemi notices you are somewhat lost in thought, and stops her tirade about the hierarchy of konoha's medical-nin, and gives you a reassuring smile.

"i know i just gave you shit, but i promise if anyone bothers you, i'll be the first one at your defense. i already told manabu to write down the names of anyone who even suggests that you're anything but sweet and sought after," she mentions. "you'll be fine."

you swallow.

"thanks."

maemi gives you another look, able to tell you're not completely reassured.

"do you love him?" she asks, her voice softer this time. "... it's not wrong if you do."

you can't give her a yes now, but you can feel your heart, slowly but surely, moving towards it.

#kakashi x reader #kakashi hatake x reader #thoughts: kakashi #daydreams: naruto #treasures: kendall #mimi's notes

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embodyingchaos · 8 months

Text

❥ plain sight | chapter one

pairing: la!sanji x fem!oc genre: best friends to lovers! slow burn! warnings: attempted assault, fighting, light angst word count: 1.8k masterlist: plain sight next chapter: -

a puff of smoke escaped out of her mouth and out the window. it was one small moment to herself but it meant so much to her before returning to the annoyance of complaining customers and taking orders.

“lorrie, you best get out here before the old man decides to kick it up a notch, huh?” vincent, one of the other waiters, warned her, reminding her that she indeed had things to do, despite the fact she only took three puffs out of her cigarette.

with a huff, she put it out in her ashtray, placing it back on the window sill before heading back into the restaurant to resume her job of waiting tables.

“couldn’t even give me enough time to finish a whole stick, vince?”

“come on, you know zeff, lorelai.”

lorelai scoffed, “sadly.” she quietly replied, taking off her sunglasses and hanging them around the waistband of her skirt. she took a deep breath in before stepping out of the kitchen doors.

from the rushing and hectic kitchens to the jazzy, dim-lit seating area, the change in atmosphere was nearly enough to give you whiplash. it was, somewhat, a particularly busy hour. though, lorelai’s definition of busy can be extremely different compared to others’. at least, that’s what her best friend likes to say.

the girl walked towards a table of four, her long, black hair swishing behind her as her hips swayed from side to side.

she placed her right hand on her hip, “welcome to baratie, my name’s lorelai. how may i serve you?” it wasn’t uncommon for lorelai to be straight to the point when serving customers, after doing it for over four years, she’d learned it best to just be nonchalant.

“oh, you’re serving us just fine, sweetheart.” the man with orange hair sitting closest to her on her left replied, a conceited-looking smirk creeping onto his lips. however, the comment didn’t receive any sort of reaction from lorelai. she’d gotten used to this since she first started waitressing at baratie at the tender age of 15.

“would you gentlemen prefer to start with some beverages? perhaps some wine, or bleach.” she whispered her last few words to herself, trying her best to be polite.

“right! yes, please. sorry about him.” a smaller, meeker man with curly, dark brown hair and a scar on his lip quickly said, “behave, owen!” he whisper-shouted to his friend, widening his eyes as a warning.

the orange-haired man, owen, only rolled his eyes, not taking his friend seriously at all.

they told her what they wanted to order, having been here before, they didn’t really need to look at the menu to know what they wanted.

“and could i get a side of ‘do you have a boyfriend’?” the other guys at the table groaned either quietly or loudly.

“sorry, we’re all out of that. too many lonely, desperate men had asked for it.” lorelai’s reply has all of them but owen stifling their giggles and laughs. “youch.” one of them commented, side-eyeing their friend.

“i’ll be back with your orders.” she told them, not missing the vein popping out on his forehead. she smugly smiles when she turns around to head back to the kitchen. the moment she enters the cooking stations, a blonde-haired chef grabs her by the waist, dragging her towards him.

“hello, dollface.”

“hello, coworker.” her cold reply has him feigning hurt, “ow? that’s not how you should greet your best friend of ten years.” lorelai’s eyes widened, “dear god. it’s been ten years already? i need to get out more often.” the man frowned, “okay, i was actually jokin’, but that one stung.” he pouted, resting his chin on lorelai’s shoulder.

she could only shake her head, “what do you want, sanji?” she asked, crossing her arms.

the blonde, sanji, grinned, “well…” he pulled away from her and grabbed a spoon with some sort of brown sauce on it.

“open wide!”

“no.”

“come on, open wide for sanji!”

“even more no.”

“here comes the airplane! wooo!”

“if you don’t stop, i’ll kick you.”

“...taste it, please?” lorelai let out a heavy sigh when her best friend pulled out his sad, puppy-dog eyes.

“fine.” upon hearing that word leave her lips, sanji wasted no time and shoved the spoon into her mouth. “how is it?” he asked, taking it out and dropping the utensil into the sink.

throughout their friendship, sanji found that she could always be the best taste-tester when it comes to his food. always sincere, always honest and always blunt, no sugarcoating nonsense. plus, it is extremely hard to please her taste buds and her picky eating habits.

lorelai wrote down the order from the table she waited on as she let the flavour of it run down her tongue.

“too salty, texture’s runny- holy shit, ji. what the hell is this?” the sight of her nose scrunching filled sanji’s heart with joy.

“light soy sauce. just wanted a reason to talk to you.” his answer has her deadpanning immediately, spitting into the sink.

“and now, that will be the last time i ever talk to you.”

“no, i won’t live long if you do that, lorrie!”

she could only roll her eyes for the seventh time that day at his dramatics. “uhuh. table two wants three medium-rare steaks and a chicken caesar salad.” at her words, sanji’s expression morphs into one of disgust. “i know, heathens, am i right?” lorelai’s sarcasm was evident but the blonde chef was too caught up with the fact he had to cook steak like a boring, old robot again.

lorelai pressed her lips together, “hey, cheer up. just cook whatever you want. i’ll convince them to eat it, ji.” she told him, looking everywhere but his eyes.

sanji smiled, “thanks, lorrie, but i don’t want you gettin’ in trouble with the old shitbag.” she snorted, “please. me? in trouble? have you ever heard of such a thing?” her words made him raise an eyebrow.

“just go cook already, you cheeky bastard.” she ushered him in the other direction as she grabbed herself a sliced cucumber and popped it into her mouth to wash the soy sauce’s taste away.

after serving table two their food, and watching sanji and zeff argue over whatever he’s cooking that’s not on the menu(it’s a part of her daily routine at this point), lorelai chewed her gum as she asked them if there was anything else they needed.

“it’s alright! this is all enough.”

“that’s good to hear. if you would like anything else, don’t be shy to ask.”

as they were talking, the orange-haired man had moved his hand to smack her on her rear. unlucky for him, she’d seen it coming a mile away.

with a swift turn, lorelai grabbed his arm with her left hand and twisted it before using her right hand to give him a punch straight to his jaw, sending him flailing to the ground.

“what the fuck!” owen exclaimed, holding his chin and swiping his thumb over his lip, a bright crimson red colouring it. “where’s your boss?! you’re going to get sacked for this, you bitch!” the ginger yelled, standing up. despite towering over her, lorelai could barely feel threatened.

“i don’t think you’d want to call him, you might get a broken, bloodied up nose next.”

“and why the hell would i get that?”

“because he’s my father, numbnuts.” she said with a bored expression, “so, if you don’t want me tellin’ him that you just attempted to slap my arse and risk a limb being torn off, what do we say we eat our food in peace like a good, paying customer?” owen slowly sat down in shame and terror. shame, because the entire restaurant was staring at them, and terror, because he almost got himself a death wish with former pirate, red-leg zeff.

“enjoy your meal.” lorelai simply said with a toothy grin before heading back to the kitchens, her eyes immediately drooping as she was suddenly starting to get sleepy but still mustering up the energy to chew her, now flavourless, gum.

from afar, she could feel four sets of eyes on her. irked, she turned their way and her gaze immediately landed on a boy wearing a straw hat. the boy stared at her with mesmerised eyes and a wide smile. lorelai continued to stare at him with an unreadable expression before his eyes widened and he awkwardly turned back to his friends.

“huh.” she muttered, blowing a bubble before it popped thanks to a certain blonde… waiter?

“now, this is a sight.” lorelai stated, smirking as she eyed sanji up and down in his suit and tie. “i might just thank pops for making you a waiter again.” her joke doesn’t elicit a single chuckle from him, he was obviously quite upset over it.

“yeah, yeah. whatever. what’s up with that table over there?” he gestured to the table of the almost-assaulted-by-ginger-man incident and lorelai shook her head. “nothin’ much. in fact, i think you have a fight to break up over at that table there.” she told him, pointing at the table in front of them with her thumb.

sanji sighed heavily and grabbed a plate of bread, “see you.” he simply told her, walking to that table to put a stop to the argument happening between two men.

lorelai frowned at his demeanour, not used to it at all. of course, he had his bad days but they were rare, and he’d always be cheering up at her jokes or even just by the sight of her. her head was swarming with thoughts as she pushed through the doors of the kitchen, but they soon came to a halt.

“what do you think you’re doin’?”

the black-haired girl silently groaned, “walking.” she grumbled, turning to her dad.

“well, then, you would have no trouble walking back out to serve some tables, hm?” zeff smiled, grabbing two plates of food and handing it to her. “now, get movin’.” he demanded, crossing his arms.

“this is child labour.” lorelai said loudly, as she slowly walked back out the door.

“too late for that now. you’re 19, sweetheart.” zeff’s reply only made lorelai even more annoyed.

she walked towards table seven, placing down their food, “hello, here is your lobster, and here is your pasta.” the couple smiled, “how’d you know whose is whose?” the man asked, “i have a very keen eye.” lorelai gave them a small smile back. that smile immediately vanished as she heard sanji serving the table behind her.

“something wrong with your eye?”

“just blinded by your beauty.”

lorelai swore she also heard a crack in her ear at that. she shook her head and got her former expression back, “enjoy your meal.” she said quickly, rushing back to the kitchen.

ignoring the shouting and calls of her name from her father as she grabbed her sunglasses, a packet of cigarettes and walked through the backdoors of the kitchen.

“break time!” she yelled out, the door swinging behind her as she did.

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twola · 1 year

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Devil's Backbone : Limpany I

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem OC/Reader POV Tags: Longfic, Slow Burn, Smut (18+), Violence, Canon-Typical Injuries

Limpany’s burning was a lot more than meets the eye. Deception, greed, and murder follow everyone touched by Leviticus Cornwall. A story where the Van der Linde gang gets even more inescapably involved in Cornwall’s dealings, with the survivor of the massacre at the heart of it all. Slow burn. Pre-Blackwater and beyond.

Limpany I: Business, The Fine Institution

The story begins, as many do in nineteenth century America, with business magnates and robber barons.

➵ AO3 Link ➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ Next

Oh Lord, Oh Lord, what have I done? I've fallen in love with a man on the run Oh Lord, Oh Lord, I'm begging you, please Don't take that sinner from me Oh, don't take that sinner from me.

- The Civil Wars, “Devil’s Backbone”

“I do believe that this is the beginning of a beneficial partnership, Archibald.”

Crystal glassware clinks, as two men proceed to sip the amber liquid contained within. One of the men clears his throat, pulling slightly on his silken tie at his neck. “I agree. The output of the mines is too large at this point without having reliable transportation down the Lannahechee.”

“Good. My office will confirm the details, to include the stake in the mine.”

Archibald Jameson nods, knowing that he did not have much choice in the matter. The goblet of cut glass between his fingers glints back at him as if mocking him. Glancing back up to the man opposite him, Archibald smoothes his mustache as a waiter refilled his glass.

“Leviticus, as I mentioned before in my letter, any sort of rumor of mismanagement or financial distress is simply that, rumor. Jameson Mining and Coal is operating at record capacity.” Jameson states, waving the waiter off from the table.

“Why, Archibald,” the greying man across the table leans back in his chair, a mischievous grin across his face, “I completely understand. Please don’t misconstrue my intentions. I simply am investing in a business I see as an opportunity for growth."

Jameson hid the grimace he wanted to give, knowing that the cash infusion that he was getting from the man across the table from him would stabilize the mining operation in the wake of strikes over the past year. He needed this, as much as he wanted to stay far away from the encroaching industrialist.

“Mister Cornwall."

A thin, middle-aged, bespectacled man in a grey suit approaches the table, carrying a small briefcase. He turns to Jameson, “Ah, Mister Jameson, it is a pleasure. Cameron Spence, Vice President of Cornwall Kerosene and Tar.”

Jameson nods, extending his hand in greeting. “Pleasure, Mister Spence.” Spence nods back, taking a seat at the circular table.

Leviticus Cornwall clears his throat, causing a suit-clad butler behind him to jump slightly, and rush to a cabinet to obtain another goblet. The young man places it on the table, filling it with the same amber liquor as the glasses on the table.

Jameson glances out the window, to scenery rushing past. Past the green trees, he could see the glint of the sun on Flat Iron Lake. The butler, a young man barely old enough to grow facial hair, pipes up. “G-Gentlemen, we will be arriving in Saint Denis within the hour, as we have just passed Rhodes.”

Cornwall waves the boy off, who seemed relieved to be dismissed. He nods, placing the decanter he had been pouring from in the center of the table. The boy moves toward the back of the rail car, opening the mahogany door and closing it again behind him.

“Jameson, have you met the mayor of Saint Denis? Lemieux?” Cornwall asks, grabbing his goblet, and taking a large draw.

“Of course. My brother Heston spends a lot of time in Saint Denis, can’t expect him to spend all of his time on that godforsaken island.” Jameson replies, taking a sip from his glass. The expensive whiskey is smooth down his throat, with none of the burn of cheap swill. Spence places the briefcase he was carrying on his lap, opening it and taking papers from it, putting them down in front of Cornwall.

Cornwall gave a cursory glance, reaching over the paperwork to a box of cigars on the table. He opened the black lacquer box, grabbing one and offering it to Jameson with a raise of his eyebrows. Jameson accepts it, as Cornwall struck a match to light his own.

He leans back in the chair as he pulls from the cigar, blowing smoke toward the ceiling. It plumed in the air of the railcar, dancing around the pretentious crystal chandelier sensually.

“He’s a feckless fool, but with enough persuasion ,” Cornwall gives a knowing look, “…he can be of use.”

“So, Mister Jameson, now that you’ve seen the Heartland Oil Fields, do you have any commentary?” Spence asks, raising his eyebrows as he moved papers in and out of his briefcase.

“I will not pretend to have knowledge of the running of an oil refinery. Had it been a coal mine, then I could give some commentary.” Jameson states, diplomatically, as he lit his own cigar.

Cornwall smirks, chuckling to himself.

Cameron Spence brushes his forehead with a silk handkerchief, catching beading sweat. “Certainly we’ve arrived in Lemoyne…” He places another piece of paper in front of Cornwall, to which Cornwall seemed a little more interested than the previous stack.

“Ah, is this from Mister Varley? I’m glad we were able to convince him that his best option was to accept a purchase offer from us.” Cornwall places the cigar on the ashtray, picking up the letterhead and glancing it over. “Was the price good?”

“Couldn’t be beat, Mister Cornwall,” Spence replies, cooly.

The train car lurched, and all three men look toward the window. Green forests had given way to the brown waters of the Kamassa Delta, the engine slowing down as it passed over the bridges over the bayous. Smokestacks of Saint Denis approached rapidly as Jameson pulled on his silk tie that was quickly collecting humidity against his neck.

Cornwall grimaces, tapping the ash from the tip of his cigar into the dish on the table. “Can you believe that the city put up a statue of that pompous ass McKnight?” He points out the window with the cigar, as the slowing train car passes next to a brick warehouse emblazoned with MCKNIGHT & CO in blue and white paint.

Jameson glances out the window, taking note of the warehouse. Gone unspoken were the plethora of other warehouses with Cornwall’s name on them - but Jameson knows not to mention that. He knows the rumors of Leviticus’ temper, and having spent the last few days in his presence, he isn’t itching to find out the veracity of those tales.

Spence takes a drink of whiskey from his tumbler. It seems he knows not to prod the raging bull.

Cornwall continues, “I guess Saint Denis was so desperate after the war she whored herself out to the first man with money to come in. Not as if he was the only financier to come in after this city was flattened."

Jameson and Spence catch each other’s eyes quickly in the silence. The message was clear. Both men knew Cornwall came sweeping into the destroyed Southern city as well, to take advantage of cheap land, labor, and lax reconstruction laws after the war. McKnight was just the one flashy enough to get a statue out of it, but it was Cornwall with his name on every train, every trolley, half of the warehouse district.

The train lurches to a stop, its whistle pierces the tepid afternoon air. As the noise of the engine dies down, the hustle and bustle of the city outside replaces the metallic clanking and steam boiling. Horses and bells, the cries of seagulls on the docks, the comings and goings of thousands of people. A saxophone trills in the distance.

Cornwall stands, downing his whiskey, and extends his arm toward the door of the car. “After you, gentlemen.”

Jameson grabs his top hat from the butler who reappeared in the car. Spence gathers his paperwork, shutting it in his briefcase as he clicks it shut before following Jameson out.

The mine owner grimaces as he steps down from the car, the humidity and heat of Saint Denis hitting him like a furnace. He would never get used to it down here, especially after spending so much time north in Annesburg, and east in New York and Chicago.

Spence and Cornwall follow suit, Cornwall stepping ahead with conviction toward the station building.

VICTORY STREET TROLLEY STATION

CORNWALL CITY RAILWAY

Spence opens the door to the station, holding it for Cornwall and Jameson. Jameson grabs it from him, bowing his head to a woman who had followed the trio in. Inside the ornately decorated station, people sat on the numerous benches, waiting on trains, trolleys, and stagecoaches. Cornwall blazes past them all, cutting across the waiting room to open the door to the street.

A carriage is waiting out front. The driver, who was leaning against the coach, nods to Cornwall and climbs the carriage, pulling on the reins of the horses.

Leviticus Cornwall stops, turning back to the two men accompanying him.

“It certainly has been a pleasure, Mister Jameson. I will be sure to take you up on that offer to head up to Annesburg soon.” Cornwall thrust his hand out, Jameson grasps it.

“Absolutely, Leviticus. I look forward to working with you.” Jameson took his top hat and placed it on his head. “Mister Spence, it was nice to meet you.” He says, turning to Spence, "Gentlemen.”

Archibald Jameson smooths his mustache down as he paces down Victory Street, heading toward the waiting trolley car that people are boarding. He boards, ignoring the hustle of people boarding behind him as he slides into a seat. He reaches into his breast pocket, pulling out a worn piece of paper with an address on it, before refolding it and tucking it back in his jacket.

“Milyonne Avenue, Milyonne Avenue!” The conductor calls over his shoulder. Archibald brushes dust off the sleeve of his coat, straightening in his seat. The trolley lurches to a stop, and he moves to stand up, pacing toward the front of the car. He steps off, glancing at the street corner. Mansions line the street’s north side, with perfectly manicured lawns and black wrought iron gates.

The well-dressed businessman crosses the divided street after the trolley jerks forward, its bell tolling in the afternoon sun, which gives no respite to overheated men in woolen coats. Dust in the air is choking, for even with the oppressive humidity, it has not rained in Lemoyne in god-knows how long. He reaches the sidewalk, following it for a block before coming to a tailor’s shop. He strode past the shop’s door to a second one, an ornate mahogany polished to perfection.

He knocks on the door, waiting several moments until the door swings open. A woman clad in black dress answers, nodding with recognition when she encounters the guest. “Mister Jameson… you’re expected upstairs. Please, come with me.”

Jameson follows her inside the door, following her up the staircase to the second floor. The staircase opens to a large parlor room, hazy with smoke.

“Archibald - what an honor for you to stop by and see your younger brother while in town. God only knows Annesburg keeps you busy.”

“Heston.”

Heston Jameson reclines in a leather chair, smoking out of a pipe. His black uniform top hung open, the silver buttons glinting down his chest. He reaches to the coffee table in front of him, picking up a cigar and offering it up to Archibald.

The older brother takes the cigar, moving around the table to the matching leather chair, taking a seat while pulling a matchbook from his pocket.

“Henrietta - pour a glass for my brother, will you?”

“Yes, Mister Jameson.” The woman who had answered the door nodded, curtseying slightly, before exiting the room.

“So, brother, what brings you to Saint Denis? ” Heston reclines back again, taking another draw from his pipe.

“Meeting with Cornwall, the new stakeholder in the mine” Archibald strikes a match, lighting his cigar with a retort.

“Ah,” Heston replies, “Charming, isn’t he? I do know he has been involved with Colonel Fussar in Guarma, trying to put down those pesky rebellions,” He takes a puff, quirking his eyebrow, “Practicing for Annesburg?”

Archibald gives his brother a withering glare as he draws on his cigar. “I have been sending several of the troublemakers from the mine your way. Are your reforms working?”

Heston smirks. “Law and order always prevails, brother. It may take more forceful tactics at times, but it will always prevail over savagery and brutality.”

“Well, for propriety’s sake, I can’t jail all of the striking miners and send them to you. That’s a little too on the nose.”

“Misters Jameson…” The woman, Henrietta, comes back to the parlor with a silver tray, two glass tumblers of whiskey upon it. She hands the first glass to Heston, moving around the table to Archibald with the second. Archibald nods his thanks.

“I thought you weren’t going to be living here, Heston.”

“I’m not - I only obtained this apartment for when I stay. I can’t spend all of my time on Sisika, the one place worse than Annesburg.” He replies, taking a sip from the glass.

“Or when a poker tournament is announced?”

Heston chuckles. “I will admit I have my vices.”

Archibald sips at the whiskey, rubbing at his temple. “Cornwall is quite the beast to deal with. No wonder he owns everything in the west.”

“Did he take the mine?” Heston asks, quirking his eyebrow, “Because if he did, you can come work at the Penitentiary. I’m sure I could find you a position.”

Archibald glares. “No, dear brother, he did not take the mine. I still am the majority shareholder.”

“Bah, shareholders. I run Sisika exactly how I want to run it. There are no shareholders I have to answer to.” Heston enunciates the noun with an air of disgust.

“Alas, I can’t run the mine like your kingdom.”

“Shame, you’d probably get a lot more done.”

Archibald downs the rest of his glass, and wonders to himself why he is agreeing with his younger brother.

—

Cornwall’s carriage pulls into the yard, past the open gate, waved in by armed men. After it clears the wrought iron, the gate is pulled shut again. The driver pulls on the reins, and the two horses whinny and come to a stop. The carriage door bursts open, and an impatient Cornwall disembarks before it has even come to a complete stop. Spence follows him out.

Cornwall paces toward the door to the warehouse’s office. Bursting through the door, he paces forward to the wall, which is adorned with a large map of the states of New Hanover, Ambarino, and West Elizabeth. Large swathes of the map are shaded in the Heartlands.

Leviticus Cornwall takes a drag from his cigar, leaning back and blowing the smoke straight up into the air. “Business, what an institution.” He remarks, wistfully.

“Speaking of which…’ Spence notes, fingering through several pieces of paper, “There is still the business of Limpany. Shaw has outright refused all offers. He has been most difficult to deal with.”

The older man frowned, his mood souring immediately. His eyes dart to the side of the map, where the Dakota River cleaves West Elizabeth from New Hanover. At a meander of the river, an area buffeted by cliffs is circled in red ink.

Spence continues, “I have been more than generous with monetary offers - but the man has been stonewalling everything.”

Cornwall turns to the desk in the office and smashes his cigar into the ashtray slowly, his aggravation rising.

“Take care of it. I don’t care for your excuses, Cameron.”

Spence bristles slightly. “Leviticus, this is not going to be as easy as a single oil derrick in the hills. Varley was alone, you’re talking about a town.”

“Sir, business doesn’t give a damn about some four-building town nor suffer the fools who impede,” Cornwall states icily.

The younger man pursed his lips, looking down at the paperwork on the table. He started to gather it together.

Cornwall glares at him.

“Spence, I trust you will take care of this to my satisfaction.”

“Yes, Mister Cornwall.”

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