#least of all french cooking

[comradecowplant]

so things are not going well with my new elderly socdem friend unfortunately.

[direwombat]

🍕my muse's favorite foods for sybille la roux (as requested by @afarcry5fromstraight)

most of sybille's favorite foods are ones that her maman used to make: red beans and rice, fried okra, and beignets in particular. fish and chips was her standard order at most restaurants, and she always looked forward to the community crawfish boils! hummingbird cake was the special treat on her birthdays growing up, and while she'll never turn down a mint julep during the summer, whiskey is something she'll drink year-round.

[astridofraftel]

how am I supposed to live on after buddy daddies' epilogue

[barefoothighlander]

never going back again - 02

summary: ghost finds himself at the wrong safe house, injured and unable to call for backup

simon ‘ghost’ riley x innocent fem!reader

warnings: mdni (18+), mentions of eating, nightmares, mention of alcohol, mutual pining

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It was the calmest he'd ever been, lounging around the cottage with you near, he wasn't much for conversation but he enjoyed asking you questions, how long you'd lived there,

"3 years next month, I bought it a while back after moving here on a whim"

What you did all day,

"Garden and read, lots of painting, even more cooking"

It was all so foreign to him, the idea of living one day at a time, not worrying about the outside world or whether or not your life was in danger, he'd realized quickly that this was the first time he felt safe in years, even with the looming threat of enemies outside and the lack of contact to his team. It did occur to him that if he didn't reach out eventually he would be labelled MIA, but to a man who wasn't even legally alive, the prospect of never seeing his team again didn't worry him a bit, what did worry him was the burning smell from the kitchen.

"What are you doing in here?"

"I was trying a new recipe, it's harder than it looks" You rush to turn off the stove, quickly pulling the pan from the surface and using a towel to waft the smoke.

"I thought you were good at cooking"

"No I said I liked cooking, not that I was any good" You huff while reaching to open the small window above the sink, allowing the fumes to migrate through the opening.

He leans his hands against the table "It doesn't look that bad"

"You're a terrible liar, has anyone ever told you that"

"Most say I've got a great poker face" He tilts his head, you respond with an unamused haha,

He stands to his full height, moving towards you "Let me"

"Let you what"

"Cook, I'll make dinner"

"Anything's better than this" You nudge towards the pan of burnt food, straightening your clothes before allowing him the step to the stove. You turn to sit at the table, watching as he moves around the kitchen with ease, grabbing ingredients from various spots while you point him toward the proper cabinets.

"Where'd you learn to cook?"

"Had to figure out a way to feed myself once I left home"

"They don't feed you at work?"

"They do, but it's mostly inedible, more nutrient based than anything"

"Did your mum cook?"

He doesn't respond for a moment, leaving you to realize the words that come from your mouth, your smile fading quickly, "I'm sorry I forgot"

"S'alright, she um, she didn't often but some Sundays she'd make a roast, best meal I ever ate"

He turns to you, his gaze soft as you smile slightly in response,

"Well let's hope her skills weren't wasted on you"

He laughs lightly, a real laugh before shaking his head and turning his attention back to the stove. You watch as he prepares the food for a few minutes, reaching across the counter to add spices,

"So what are you making?"

"I am making" He stops his sentence, turning off the stove and twisting to face you, "French toast"

"French toast?"

"I said I could cook, not that I know a lot of recipes"

You cover your mouth as you laugh, your eyes creasing at the sides as he places a plate in front of you,

"Well, it smells great"

The two of you dig into the food, your gaze focused on the plate as you allow him the privacy to lift his mask up slightly, revealing his mouth, falling into a comfortable silence as you eat, Simon smiles to himself as you make a small hum of approval,

"You can't be serious"

"What'd I do?"

"That's like a cup of syrup"

"So?"

"You're teeth are going to rot from your head"

"What if they already have"

You scrunch your face at the thought, "At least it'd explain the mask"

"You don't have to turn away you know"

You make a small huh? in response,

"When I pull on my mask, I don't mind you seeing parts of my face"

"I just assumed"

"I know, but you don't have to turn away"

"Okay" Your voice is smaller, intrigue and confusion mixed into it as you nod. “How’s your cut”

“Healing, thanks to you, still tender”

“Can I” You turn your eyes to his, standing from the table to kneel by his side, his breath catches in his throat as you lower your body, your fingers inches from his stomach.

He nods lightly in permission, lifting his shirt for you and settling it on his lower stomach, your fingers pressing gently on the sides of his wound as you inspect it. His eyes stare at your face, holding back a smile as you bite your lip in concentration, you stand, turning behind to grab some new bandages from the cabinet behind you before returning to your position in front of him.

You brace your fingers against his skin, tugging at his bandage,

“Sorry”

“Doesn’t hurt”

You tilt your head to him and he’s watching you, his eyes locked on your face, your cheeks flush slightly under his stare, turning your attention towards his wound as you dress it, pressing the bandage into his skin. You let your fingers linger for a moment, feeling his stomach rise and fall with each breath before you slowly pull away, standing up and nodding.

“That should do”

“Thank you”

“It’s nothing”

“Thank you” He repeats in a lower, softer voice as he lets his shirt fall into place.

"Any idea when your ear thing will work again?"

"You trying to kick me out?"

"No" You widen your eyes at your quick response, "Just, want to make sure there isn't someone at home missing you"

"There isn't"

You mouth a small oh before turning your gaze toward the window, "It's late, you should rest"

"Right"

There's tension between the two of you, neither wants to leave the others company yet at the same time, neither of you will do anything about it.

"I'll see you in the morning" You smile, passing through the kitchen towards your room and closing the door, leaving Simon alone.

He wakes in a blind panic, the sky outside still dark as he blinks his eyes, turning his head towards your door, he can hear you shouting, rustling around and without thinking he enters the room. Your limbs are twisted between the sheets, jolting around as you mumble, he takes a step back as you sit up, your chest heavy.

You clutch your chest at the sight of him, lurking in the doorframe,

"You scared me"

"You were having a nightmare"

"Yeah, they happen sometimes"

It's then that you notice he's not wearing his mask, the room is dark but there's enough light for you to make out the curve of his nose,

He scratches the back of his head, "Okay" turning to leave,

"Simon"

He lazily turns his gaze back to you, responding with a small hmm.

"Will you stay, it's just"

He cuts you off, "Easier to sleep with someone beside you"

"Please"

"Of course"

You watch as he crosses the room, looming beside your bed as you pull the sheets to cover you, feeling the mattress dip under his weight as he settles in. He lays awkwardly on his back, his arms crossed over his stomach, you watch his chest rise and fall, without thinking you slide your palm against it, your fingers light on the fabric of his shirt as you move closer, pressing your chest against his side and resting your head on his shoulder. He snakes an arm around you, letting you nestle against him as his hand settles gently on your arm, his touch feather-light as he tries to keep a consistent heartbeat.

You must've fallen asleep shortly after, waking to the sun streaming into the room, your limbs tangled between his, both of you had turned in your sleep, his chest now pressed against your back as his arms held snugly against your waist. You can feel his steady breath fan across your neck, his face close enough that the tip of his nose grazes your skin, he's so warm, the sheets on the bed long forgotten in your sleep and the heat coming from him is more than enough.

You reach a hand to his arm, tracing over the lines of his tattoo and you feel him tighten his grip, his stable breaths now ragged as he wakes up. It takes him a moment to realize the position he's in, his brain doing little to comprehend the situation.

"Do you have something in your pocket?"

He pulls from you instantly, jolting upwards and turning around as you giggle,

"M'sorry" His voice is groggy, his accent thicker than usual.

"It's fine"

He keeps his gaze away from you, anxiously stretching his limbs before you realize,

"I'm gonna shower, I'll turn away so I don't"

"Thank you"

You can only see the back of his head, his blonde hair that's a mess, the outline of his head as he nods, shaking your thoughts as you move out of the room.

You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror, hoping that he didn't get a chance to see you that morning either, your hair was everywhere, the skin under your eyes dark from your usual lack of sleep as you strip your pyjamas, turning on the faucet.

You stand in the warm water, letting it wash over you, hoping it would calm your rampant thoughts as you hear Simon moving around behind the door.

You step out of the shower, wrapping your body in a towel and smoothing your hair back before opening the door, the steam wafting from the small room into the house.

“Where’s the kettle?”

“Top left cabinet”

You stand in the doorway, your hands squeezing the water from your hair as you look at him,

“Thanks”

He turns quickly to you and his body freezes, his eyes glued to your practically naked form as you stand, the beads of water dripping from your warm skin.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yep, just making tea”

“Okay, bags are in the lower cupboard”

He nods awkwardly, furrowing your brows at him before turning around, he lets out a heavy breath as you leave, leaning back against the counter as he drops his head back, staring at the ceiling.

“Shit” He mumbles to himself, adjusting his pants feeling them grow tighter as his mind runs circles around the sight of you, replaying the way your fingers traced over his skin, and scent of your hair as he rested his head against yours. He was awake most of the night, listening to you breath, smiling lightly as you mumble about nothing, you were soft, he’d never had soft before always jagged and dark.

His mind snaps back as you call from the other room,

“Are you any good at fixing things?”

“Depends, what needs fixing”

“The shutters outside, they’re falling apart”

“I could give them a look”

You appear in the entry, smiling at him, now clothed with your hair pulled back, he just watches you in awe, the fact that you could look so perfect no matter the circumstances, you could be caked in mud and still make his heart flutter.

The two of you sit for tea and chat about nothing, asking more questions that he dodges while you openly answer everything he had wondering about.

“I think you’re his new favourite”

Simon makes a small huh before you nudge your head toward his feet, the small cat nestling itself against his calf.

“Strange”

“He’s not strange”

“Not him just, I’ve never had a cat do this”

“Well get used to it”

He smiles under his mask, he could get used to this, spending his days with you, cooking and drinking tea, just enjoying each others company around the house.

“The shutters”

You set your cup down, nodding at him, “There’s some tools in the shed outside, not sure what’s left but maybe they’d help”

“I’ll get right on it then”

It was sweltering outside, the sun beaming down without a cloud in the sky as Simon tries to navigate his way around fixing the shutters. You see him through the window, his arms flexing as he unscrews some things and nails in others, you had no idea what he was doing but he looked good.

I’m hot, he must be hot you fan yourself with your hand, pulling the hair from your sweat glistened neck, eyes darting around the kitchen before an idea clicks in your head.

“Beer”

It’s the only word you can manage to think of as your eyes fall on him, somewhere in the last few minutes he’d stripped himself of his shirt, tucking the loose material into the belt of his pants as his sweat dripped down his skin.

“Cheers, love one”

Your throat dries, nodding as you extend a n arm toward him, the cold glass of the drink transferring to his grip as he tips it towards you in thanks, turning around to lift his mask slightly before taking a sip. Your eyes trailing down his muscled form, roaming over every ridge of his stomach before moving back up.

“Must be hot with the mask”

“Get used to it”

You take a few gulps of your own drink, running the glass across your skin in an attempt to cool yourself. He turns his gaze back to you, watching as you let the beverage run across your skin, leaving a trail of drips behind, he can’t tell if you’re teasing him or this is just how you act naturally.

“How’s it looking”

“Great”

“So you’re almost done”

“Huh?” His eyes pull back to yours,

“Are you almost done, it’s getting unbearable out here”

“Yeah, nearly there”

“Great, I’ll be inside”

The rest of the evening was calm, the two of you doing your best to stay cool in the small cottage as the sun set over the horizon, deciding on cooking something that didn’t involve the use of heat, settling on sandwiches for dinner.

“Mind if I shower, I’m covered in sweat”

“Yea of course” Your mind floods with the sight of his bare form, thankful that the hot air masked the flush of your cheeks, “Towels are in the washroom”

He nods, standing from the table to move toward the shower, closing the door behind him before turning it on. You blow out a long breath, bracing your hands against the table before turning your head at the sound of him wincing,

“You alright?” You call

“Yeah, just sore”

“Well hurry up, I’ll check your stitches”

You sit impatiently as he showers, nervously tidying the kitchen as you wait, your chest fluttering as you hear the shower turn off.

“Figured it’s easier if I just put my shirt on later”

He must be doing this on purpose, once again your eyes roam his form, his sweat replaced by dripping water as his freshly cleaned skin draws your attention,

“Sure, easier”

He sits on the couch, leaning back and positioning his arm against the top to allow you a better view to his stitches, to your surprise they’re doing well, no inflammation or bleeding, they look good.

“S’good, should be able to take them out soon”

“Great”

“Might leave a scar”

“Adds to the collection”

You pass your gaze over the skin of his chest, littered with scars, some small and others long, some old and some new.

“I’m fine”

“I know you are”

“It only hurts a little, when it happens”

“And someone did this to you”

“A few people”

“How many is a few?” You stare at him with rounded eyes,

“Nothing you need to worry about”

You soften your gaze, standing from the couch,

“I guess we should sleep now” His eyes follow your movements, he shifts in his spot trying to get comfortable,

“Simon, would you- nevermind”

“What do you need?”

“I felt bad waking you last night and I was thinking maybe, if we slept in the same bed I wouldn’t have any, you know”

“Yeah, I’d like that- you not having nightmares” He fumbles over his last words, trying to keep himself together at the prospect of once again having you close.

“Okay” You walk nervously toward your room, the simple action now feeling foreign as he trails behind you, “I’ll keep the lights off if you want”

He nods, closing the door behind him as you get into the bed, shuffling around a little before finding comfort in your position, you turn to your side but keep your eyes on him as he reaches to tug his mask off, your mind trying to piece together what he might look like behind the sharp lines of his shadowed face.

He sets himself beside you, moving an apprehensive arm under your pillow, making sure you were okay with it. You push back against him, your body perfectly slotting in front of his as his other arm settles around your waist, you hold it with your fingers, your thumb rubbing against the skin as you let out a small hum of satisfaction.

You’re asleep in no time, the warmth of the air combined with the comfort of Simon behind you lulling you into a dream while he stays up, his arms tucked against you, it was the most comfortable he’d been in years, maybe ever and be didn’t dare move, his body freezing everytime you moved a leg against him or squeezed his forearm lightly, they were like subconscious reminders that you wanted him there and it warmed his heart, melting against you as he tucked his nose against the nape of your neck, your hair brushing against his skin.

He wakes to an empty bed and a weight on his chest, opening his heavy eyes to the sight of Goliath,

“Good morning kitty”

He runs a hand across his back, smiling lightly as he purrs against his touch before he jumps off, startled by the sounds from the house. Simon quickly realizes that he’s not wearing a mask, it’s light out, and you’re not there, a small panic setting into his nerves as he stands.

He tugs on his mask and a shirt before leaving the room, pressing his side against the frame as he watches you move around the kitchen, steeping some tea while you clean up.

“Mornin”

You turn around with a wide smile, “Sleep well?” You ask, leaning against the counter,

“Best in years” He’s being honest, something about you was so comfortable, safe, he wanted to stay forever, if this was what life had in store for him then he’d accept it with open arms.

“Good, cause I think I found that wire you needed”

His heart sinks in an instant, “You did?”

“I think so, was tucked back in the drawer”

“Oh, I’ll see if it’s the right one then”

You smile, turning back to the kettle that had begun whistling as Simon panics, it was too soon, he wanted more time, he needed to figure out a way to stay longer, something good that would keep him here at least a few more days.

“The bathrooms got mold in it” It was the best he could come up with, he hated lying to you.

“Huh?” You turn with your brows furrowed,

“The bathroom, noticed it last night, I can’t fix it if you’d like”

“Are you sure, I didn’t see any”

“Easy to miss sometimes, it’s just near the drain, shouldn’t take more than a day to clean up”

“Yeah sure, just let me know what you need”

He nods, fighting back a smile of success behind his mask, excusing himself from your direct line of sight before internally celebrating, before stopping to think to himself,

Now I’ve gotta figure out how to retile a shower.

[eelnoise]

Hey I love your writing! Any chance you’d be willing to do a Sanji and Zoro threesome where they get all competitive about sharing you but maybe they end up making out a lil as well? 😍😍😍 pleasepleaseplease

OMG!!!! the way I had to dash to my pc and write this???!!!! (well, half it. may or may not have finished it during my workout on my phone so pls ignore any formatting issues!! 🙃🙃)

thank you so much for the request, i loved writing it! i hope it helps with your day, too!

emmêlé

zoro x sanji x reader

cw: threesome, double penetration, semi-public sex, praise, degradation, biting, slight zosan

You’re lost in a daze. What started as a late evening in the kitchen with Zoro and a couple of glasses of wine had turned into something else entirely. Sanji, who was cleaning up after dinner, had gotten into it with Zoro, starting with some sort of comment about not liking the way he manhandles you around on his lap.

“Shut up,” Zoro spits in an annoyed huff. “She loves it, don’t you baby?”

“Even if she does, you should be more gentle with her.” Sanji snaps back, pointing angrily at Zoro.

“She’s not fragile, cook.” Sanji’s title rolls from the swordsman’s lips like a threat - low, cold, and full of irritation.

The men speak as if you aren’t there, and before you know it, you’re sandwiched between them in the middle of the kitchen.

Zoro holds you in the air between them with ease, his large and calloused hands tucked under your knees and spreading your thighs wide open as he pounds into your ass - stretching you out in a way that makes your toes curl while Sanji’s nimble fingers hold onto your waist, slowly thrusting into your pussy and moaning low into your ear.

Both of them have their own pace; Zoro’s rough and forceful, the sound of his thighs hitting your ass echoing around the room loudly. Sanji takes his time, wanting to feel each inch of your pretty pussy around him and to really enjoy you.

“Mon amour,” Sanji purrs into your ear as you rest your head on his shoulder, languishing moans and cries of ecstasy warming the crook of his neck. “Si charmant, si bon~” Fuck, you love when he speaks French, especially like this. His words are like candy - sweet and delicious and all for you.

Zoro, in comparison, is much more quiet. His forehead rests on the back of your neck, heavy grunts and groans of his own pleasure almost inaudible amidst yours and Sanji’s - the latter’s constant whimpering and murmurs in his native tongue quickly getting on Zoro’s nerves. He wants to hear you, needs to hear just how fucking good you sound stuffed and filled like this. 

Sanji is denying him that.

“Fuck,” Zoro growls, moving his head to look at the culprit of his discontent. “You’re too god damn loud, cook.” His brow furrows, but his brutal pace doesn’t let up - if anything it speeds up. Zoro’s grip on your legs tightens, instinctively pulling you closer to his chest in a possessive manner. He ignores your sobs, still staring intently at Sanji with an air of annoyance.

“A gentleman- ah!” Sanji’s words are cut short by a long and filthy moan from the way your pussy flutters around his cock. His eyes close for a moment as he picks up his pace, fucking you closer to the rate that Zoro is. Once his eyes snap back open, he meets Zoro’s glare with one of his own. “A gentleman always indulges on a meal so freely given.”

Zoro clicks his teeth in irritation, his gaze turning to your pathetic and limp form between them. “At least we both know who makes you feel the best, right princess?” He rumbles into your ear, his deep voice sending sparks flying through your veins. Zoro chuckles darkly and bites down on your shoulder with enough force to make you cry out. “And who makes you scream their name.” 

“Sex is more than just primal lust, moss-head.” Sanji spits out, the hands around your waist digging into your plush skin. “Do you believe him?” He asks you, voice noticeably softening when he sees your fucked-out and glazed-over expression. “Sounds to me like he doesn’t know how to really appreciate you, sweetheart.” 

Words have long left you, reduced to nothing but weak and hoarse moans and attempts at vocalization. Unable to answer, the two continue to absolutely ruin you. Both of your arms are wrapped around Sanji’s shoulders, holding onto him tightly and clawing at the flesh of his back. 

“She loves being treated like a slut.” Zoro says, snapping up into you hard for a few moments. You tighten around the two cocks in you at his words, unable to hold back an absolutely salacious yelp. “See? Fuckin’ lives for it.”

Sanji shakes his head, one of his hands coming to the back of your head and petting your hair gently.  His touch is soothing, and you hum into it with a weak smile - a quick moment of peace. He smirks smugly at Zoro, as if having proved a point. 

Your breathing grows heavier still, and with a series of grunts and whines you know you're on the precipice of pleasure. "S-shut up and don't s-stop!" You manage to whisper out in a huff. 

Sanji's moans escalate in tandem with yours. He loves how you feel around him and just knowing that he's playing a part in pushing you over the edge makes his cock throb wildly inside you. "Ma chérie, you sound heavenly." He murmurs, continuing to drip words of praise in both languages for you.

Zoro isn't having any of this. Sanji has to shut the fuck up if he's to hear you cum. He doesn't care how much you like it, even if the soft affection is pushing you further into your release. You tumble over into euphoria with a shout, nails slicing into Sanji's skin and lulling your head backward onto Zoro's shoulder. 

As the pleasure floods you, Zoro's at his wit's end with just how loud the cook is. He props one leg up onto a chair and releases his grip on your left thigh, letting it fall to his own to keep you as steady as possible to ride out your high before grabbing the back of Sanji's head forcefully and bringing him closer. "Shut the fuck up and let her sing, cook." He growls and shuts him up the only way he knows how to at this moment - by harshly pressing his lips to Sanji's. 

Sanji's eyes widen, and he wants to pull away but can't bring himself to. Zoro's kiss is rough and it's full of teeth and tongue, and that combined with how fucking good you're squeezing his cock - he cums. His moans are muffled by the lip lock, but the way he's spilling into you endlessly indicates just how much the act has subdued him, mind, body, and soul. 

You take the opportunity to kiss along Sanji's jawline, each mumbled whimper and whine from the man above you makes you giggle. It's cute to see him melt, and you never get tired of it. 

Zoro breaks the kiss with a smirk. "Now," he growls, turning his attention back to you. "Back to filling you the fuck up."

[superhero--imagines]

Being Sanji’s GF would include:

A/N: this is the ugliest banner I ever made I swear.

Tags: Female reader

* A man that is 6 ft +, can cook, and treats you with respect? I can’t believe we as a society weren’t simping for him before

* We already know that he loves pretty girls, so if you reciprocate his advances—he’s down hook, line, and sinker

* I feel like he’d fall hard and fast for someone a bit shy, with a soft form of kindness

* Sanji himself is so kind, even if it’s in these extremes depending on the gender of the recipient

* So seeing someone who kindness comes to so naturally, where it isn’t a flickering flame or a bright fire, but just a soft warmth that linger in all of their actions leaves him in awe

* “You’re amazing.”

* He’s still got a wandering eye though, so catch him randomly slapping himself or sitting with his face in his hands as he tries to restrain himself from ‘being unfaithful’

* “Hey Sanji?”

* “Hmmm.”

* “Have you ever thought about cheating on me?”

* The dishes he was washing clatters in the sink and he grabs your hand in both of his, kneeling in front of you

* “Never!” And he means it, he might look but he would never dream of being with someone other than you. “You’re the only person I want to be with.”

* I think as time goes on he gets a lot better at understanding why he feels the way he does, and eventually the flirtatious behavior cools down even though he’s still as kind as always because he realizes it comes from a place of craving validation instead of genuine love

* And honestly, now that he has you he doesn’t need it from anyone else anymore

* “(Y/N)-chan, can you get me the oregano?”

* You smile as you get it from the fridge, it’s not easy for him to ask you to do things

* He has the biggest goofiest grin on his face when you wrap your arms around his waist and rest your head on his shoulder

* Sanji would literally give you a romance as big as the world — or he’d try to at least

* “Sanji this is really lovely.” And you mean it, the candle lit dinner and all your favorite foods at the center of the deck

* “But um, I feel a little bad for Luffy.” It’s more than a little, there’s an entire waterfall of drool falling past his lips from his spot behind a pillar.

* His fingers curl under your chin, urging you to meet his gaze

* “There’s nothing to feel bad about, of course I would spoil the most important person in my life.”

* Your cheeks heat up from the words.

* “But Sanji—“ you look to the pillar seeing seven faces quickly duck, and a hand grab luffys still salivating head. “—they’re all staring!”

* If you could die from embarrassment you’d be six feet under

* “Let them stare, it’s because they’re dazzled by your beauty.”

* “Actually it’s because we’re hungry!” Luffy shouts, only to have his mouth covered by Nami.

* Sanji ends up making them a snack.

* His favorite hobby is pretending Chopper is your child when you guys go out

* “When are you guys going to stop pretending he’s your baby?” Zoro growls

* You look over at Chopper who’s happily sitting on Sanji’s shoulders, munching away on cotton candy

* “When he stops pretending to enjoy it,” You respond

* “That’s never going to happen!” Chopper shouts with a giggle

* He’s so greedy with you I swear

* You give him a kiss, he gives you back at least five

* You hold his hand, he keeps you glued to his side for the rest of the night

* “I know it’s ugly of me to get an inch and take a mile, but…around you I just can’t keep myself from trying.”

* He learns how to make all your favorite childhood foods, either from a relative or by studying old recipe books from your homeland

* And if you ever seem homesick or you’re feeling down he’ll suspense you with the dish

* “How did you learn to make this?” Your region is a far ways away from his usual French cuisine

* “I have my secrets.”

* Please cook for this man, just once, make a fancy dinner and have the whole crew pitch in as wait staff

* “You’re always taking care of us so this time we wanted to serve you!”

* He’ll eat half-burned pasta with tears of joy streaming down his face

* “This is the best meal I’ve ever had.”

* He’ll fall even harder for you if you have his wanted poster near your bunk bed

* “There’s a little red stain near my lips though—“

* “Ah, sometimes when I can’t see you at night I give it a little kiss for luck haha.”

* He’s dead. Sanjis dead.

* Cause of death: love sickness

* He died happy though

* He’s just such a simp for you man

* Like, take the shirt off his back and lay it over a puddle so you don’t get your feet wet, hear you’re craving a certain type of food and make it the next meal, buys you feminine hygiene products from the store with pride (along with some snacks he knows you like, kiss your hands and worship the ground you walk on type of love.

* Honestly what a dream

A/N: kinda wanna make a nsfw version too.

[tongue-like-a-razor]

Hotter Than Texas | Part II

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

A/N: I'm so excited that y'all loved the first part! Thanks for your enthusiasm, you rock <3

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare.

Aka it's a road trip, strap in.

CW: swearing, age gap (10 years)

WC: 2000+

Part I | Masterlist

“I’m getting hungry.”

Bradley glances at the restaurant sign as he passes it on the interstate, suppressing a sigh. He usually skips lunch on long trips so he can arrive at his destination before nightfall. “I’ll get off at the next exit,” he says.

“Will you?” you exclaim excitedly, as though he’s offered to catch and cook your next meal himself.

Bradley chuckles mildly. “Well, I’m not going to let you starve.”

“You’re so sweet,” you reply, and Bradley eyes you with a grin because he’s about eighty percent certain you’re being facetious.

“What’re are you in the mood for?” he asks as he gets on the off-ramp.

“Something greasy and very bad for my heart.”

Bradley lets out a small laugh. What’s bad for his heart is you sitting next to him being all cute for the next twenty hours straight.

He pulls into the lot of a little diner just off the highway and parks his car while you flip down your sun visor to glance at your reflection in the mirror. “How do I look?” you mutter, mostly to yourself.

Bradley tries not to examine you directly and instead just glances in your vicinity. “Better than the truckers, I bet,” he comments, noticing the row of semis at the back of the lot.

You give him an unimpressed look and then push open your door. “I sure hope they have French toast.”

“I thought you wanted something greasy,” Bradley says, walking around the front of the Bronco to join you.

“I want options,” you state, marching forth toward the front doors.

Bradley strides ahead and pulls the door open for you. He can’t say he isn’t looking forward to having a sit-down meal with you, like it’s a date or something. And, as much as he hates to admit it, he’s almost thrilled at the prospect of the other patrons assuming the two of you are a couple.

You walk through the open door and Bradley stalls for a moment, trying to clear his head. He shouldn’t even be thinking about that sort of nonsense. He and Hangman have enough issues without adding Bradley’s crush on his baby sister to the mix. They’ve just begun to mend their bumpy – to say the least – relationship, and Jake would sure as shit not appreciate his colleague developing feelings for his younger sibling.

“You comin’, sugar?” you call from inside.

Bradley, who’s clearly taken too long of a beat, glances at you in a bit of a daze. He’s sure you just called him ‘sugar’ and that has utterly thrown him. He enters after you and gives the hostess a look that he hopes might resemble a polite smile. But his face feels hot and numb at the same time, so he can’t be sure.

…

“I think I’ll get the pancakes,” you muse, flipping through the menu leisurely.

Bradley smiles at you when you’re not looking. “Want to share some things?”

You glance up at him happily. “Can we?”

Bradley chuckles. “Why not? I could go for a pancake. What else should we get?”

Your eyes light up and you instantly refer back to the menu. “Fried pickles.”

Bradley cringes but he’s still amused. “Those’ll go great with the pancakes.”

“I agree,” you respond without a hint of sarcasm. “Chili?” you continue. “Or tacos?”

“Why not both?” Bradley shrugs.

You give him a serious look. “That’s just crazy talk.”

Bradley laughs. “You’re right, what was I thinking?”

“I sort of want some pie, though.”

Bradley closes his menu and leans forward into the table. “I’ve already thought of that,” he mutters under his breath, as though he’s about to divulge a secret. You lean in too, your bright eyes blinking up at him eagerly. “We’ll get one for the road,” he whispers.

You gasp. “You’re a genius!”

Bradley chuckles, leaning back in his seat proudly. “I won’t deny that.”

…

When the server arrives to take your orders, you let Bradley do the talking, but chime in with little requests now and again; onions on the home fries, maple syrup for the bacon, sour cream in the chili. And Bradley can’t help but delight in the fact that, every time you think of something, you tap his hand that's resting on the table, ‘oohing’ with excitement.

Bradley eyes you with a smile once the server departs. “Maple syrup for the bacon?”

You wave a hand at him. “You’ll see.”

Bradley shakes his head with a smirk. “Not on my bacon.”

“Yeah, my brother warned me that you’re a bit of a square.”

Bradley raises his eyebrows and scoffs. “Your brother said what?”

You grin at him mischievously. “Don’t worry, I can make up my own mind.”

“Your brother warned me that you’re a bully,” Bradley replies, his smile only getting wider. “And, coming from Hangman, that’s saying something.”

You let out a peal of laughter so exuberant that several faces turn to look in your direction.

“Don’t worry,” he adds when your laughter partially subsides. “I can make up my own mind.”

“And?” you ask with soaring eyebrows. “Have you?”

Bradley hesitates for a moment and then decides to respond in a cheeky manner to avoid any awkwardness. “Not just yet,” he says with a chuckle.

You reach out and lightly smack his forearm. “Stop!”

“I’m joking,” Bradley concedes, grabbing your hand before you can strike him again. “It’s not like you’ve ever hit me to get your way,” he says pointedly.

You shake your head with a smirk and withdraw your hand.

…

“Everything was delicious,” you gush to the waitress as she clears the table. “We had such a wonderful time!”

“Glad to hear that, dear,” the waitress gives you a smile and then winks at Bradley, as though she’s in on some scheme with him.

Bradley furrows his eyebrows in amusement as she walks away and then digs into his pocket for his wallet. “My treat,” he says when you reach for your purse.

“No way!” you exclaim. “You’re already giving me a ride. The least I could do is feed you.”

“You don’t have to do anything. I’m happy to be your ride.”

“I insist,” you declare.

“I insist harder,” Bradley presses, laying down several bills onto the receipt tray.

You gaze at him pensively and finally slide your wallet back into your purse. “So, you’re stubborn,” you note.

“So, you’re observant,” he remarks.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Thanks for lunch, Rooster.”

…

Back on the road, you offer Bradley a turn with the radio, muttering something about not wanting to be a bully by hogging the music. He can tell you’ve said it in jest, but he still wants to make sure he hasn’t offended you.

“You know I don’t think you’re a bully, right?” he says, glancing between your face and the road several times.

You eye him playfully. “Well, give it a minute.”

Bradley chuckles. “It’s getting dark,” he notes after a little while. He was hoping to get farther on the first day, but the prospect of maybe spending an extra day with you on the road doesn’t seem nearly as daunting as it might have in the morning. “Want to stop for the night?”

“I can drive if you want,” you offer.

Naturally, Bradley overthinks your response. He wonders if maybe you’ve had enough of him and would prefer to get to Texas as soon as possible. “No, no,” he responds. “I can drive. I just thought you might be tired.”

“From sitting?” you quip.

Bradley gives you a flat look. “It’s been a long day.”

You shrug. “It flew by.”

That sets his mind at ease somewhat. A day doesn’t fly by unless you’re having a good time. “I think we should stop,” he says.

“Alright,” you respond, “let’s stop.”

…

“You two lovebirds want the mountain or city view?” the hotel’s front desk clerk enquires with a beam.

Bradley is about to explain that the two of you will, in fact, require separate rooms because you are the absolute opposite of lovebirds, when you respond with, “Mountain, please.”

The clerk hands you a key and Bradley follows you down the hall mutely, with both of your suitcases in tow. He’s not about to dispute your decision to share a room, despite knowing that it’s exactly what he swore he’d avoid doing the moment he laid eyes on you.

You open the door and enter, holding it open for Bradley so that he can bring in the luggage. He sets it down gingerly by the door and straightens his back to look around. The are two double beds against the wall and a large window with a spectacular view of the Santa Catalina range.

You flop down on one of the beds with a contented sigh. “You know what, darlin’? I am tired.”

Bradley watches you climb further up the bed and rest your head on one of the pillows. He’s used to you calling him all sorts of terms of endearment at this point, but it still warms his heart each and every time you do. “No dinner tonight, sweetheart?” he responds, adopting your speaking style on a trial basis.

You lift your head from the pillow. “Let’s just order in?”

You seem unfazed by the fact that Bradley just called you sweetheart. Meanwhile, he’s nearly thrown up from the anxiety it’s caused him. He resolves not to call you that – or any other overly-friendly name – ever again. “Yeah, we can do that,” he responds casually. “Pizza?”

You nod. “With barbeque chicken.”

“You got it.”

…

“Did you always want to be an aviator?” you ask, taking a bit of pizza while dusting crumbs off the bedspread.

The two of you are sitting cross-legged atop one of the beds with the open pizza box between you. Bradley grabs another slice. “Pretty much.” He doesn’t really want to get into specifics, because that means being vulnerable, a state which Bradley does not much enjoy.

“Interesting.”

“What about you?” he asks. “What are you studying?”

“Math.”

Bradley nearly chokes. For some reason, he expected something less cerebral. “Are you going to be an accountant, or something?” he asks with a smirk.

You frown slightly. “I sure hope not.”

“Well, what do you want to be?”

“A good person,” you respond thoughtfully.

Bradley lowers his pizza and stares at you. “You are a good person,” he says hoarsely.

You shrug. “I have my days.”

“I mean, I don’t know you very well,” Bradley reasons. “But you seem great. Much better than your brother.”

You laugh and lower your gaze. “Aren’t you a sweetheart?” you say warmly.

Bradley can feel his heart pounding like a double bass drum. The only sweetheart in this room is you and he can hardly keep that to himself. To think that you might be doubting your own integrity is affecting Bradley on a near-physical level. “You’re a good person. Anybody who tells you otherwise is an idiot,” he states.

You smile, still looking downward. “Thanks.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

You place your half-eaten slice of pizza back into the box and fall back into the pillows, sighing dramatically. “I’m stuffed!”

Bradley, who’s just taken his final bite, mutters around the crust in his mouth. “Me too.” He closes the pizza box and picks it up to set it onto the floor by the bed. Then, he moves to the other bed and lies down on his back with a weary exhale.

“Hey, Rooster,” you call from your bed.

“Hmm?”

“Are you a good pilot?”

Bradley turns onto his side to face you. “I think so.”

“My brother said you were just alright,” you say.

Bradley snorts and throws a pillow at you. You laugh and then stuff the pillow in between your knees. “Joke’s on you, I’m keeping this.”

Bradley adjusts his second pillow under his head and mutters, “You’re welcome.”

“Tomorrow you can choose what you want to listen to,” you say.

Bradley chuckles. What he wants to listen to more than anything is probably you.

“Hey, Rooster,” you say quietly.

“Hmm?”

“Is there any pie left?”

Tag List

I’ll be tagging the rest in the comments shortly!

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[femmefatalevibe]

Femme Fatale Guide: Healthy Habits To Look & Feel Your Best Without Restriction or Unrealistic Routines

Realistic ways to maintain a healthy life/body/appearance (size and weight are all personal, not the most important metric – for certain). No diet culture or delulu-land tips here.

What I've done to maintain my 30-pound weight loss for over a decade, glowing clear skin (no pimples or discoloration, etc.), and super healthy, full & shiny hair, still living life and enjoying it – the mindful way.

Eat home-cooked meals & (plant-based) whole foods – 90-95% of the time

Incorporate at least 1 salad into my daily routine (either a large, hearty lunch salad or a simple green salad as a starter with dinner)

Include at least 1 fruit/vegetable in every meal or snack

Never restrict food groups – whole grains/potatoes, healthy fats, protein-rich plant foods, and produce are all essential to consume every day

Focus on meals, but have whole food snack options on hand to enjoy if genuinely hungry (mainly fruit, lupini beans, edamame, carrots/celery/cucumber with hummus, plain popcorn, handful of almonds/cashews)

Have breakfast after one coffee (before a second) and have dinner late enough (8-9:30 pm) to curb late-night hunger

Only have fruit and tea after dinner; Always stop consuming food at least 3 hours before bed for better sleep/digestion

Order whatever I want when going out to eat, but split dessert

Have at least one indulgent meal/dessert per week

No sugary cocktails – wine, champagne/prosecco, martinis, gin & tonic, margarita, French Connection, Sambuca, Grappa, tequila on the rocks, etc. are great options. Bellinis/fruit plus wine/spirits cocktails are a good middle ground. Sugary drinks worsen the hangover – big-time

Perceive healthy eating as a form of enjoyment, creativity, and nourishment, not restriction or deprivation (it's not if done liberally enough)

Consume a vitamin B12 and vitamin D supplement daily. Keep digestive enzymes on hand for when they're necessary

Always have a large glass of water first thing in the morning (before coffee) and by my side all day long

No soda, juices, sugary drinks, etc. Black coffee, tea, and water only on the daily – wine and no-sugar alcoholic drinks on rare occasions. Smoothies can be a great snack or breakfast, though!

Incorporate an (almost) daily walk into my schedule as a form of exercise and a mental health reset (I aim for 4-5 miles/10Kish steps per day on average)

Do short, low-impact strengthen training exercises 3x a week (15-30 mins each usually) for bone health & toning

Never forcing myself to do strenuous exercise/workout formally in a gym – it's not for me; it doesn't make me feel/look better and throws my hunger & energy levels way off. To each their own, though

Have a variety of playlists ready to go for waking up, working, dancing, walking/workouts, doing chores, and reading/relaxing

Internalizing that sexual health is a core aspect of your health & well-being – on all counts

Maintaining a simple skincare routine 2x per week with high-quality products and a couple of weekly treatments

Prioritizing my body care routine with as much as my facial skincare routine

Wearing at least SPF 30 daily

Exfoliating 2-3x per week

Learning what hair products work for my hair type; Using a deep conditioning mask and a scalp mask weekly

Using only cold water when washing my hair

Incorporating face & body massages into my weekly at-home routine

Using Uriage lip balm, hand cream, and deodorant religiously

Flossing 1-2 times a day/using an electric toothbrush

[badgerbl00d]

one piece boys getting jealous pt.2

☆ characters: law, shanks, kidd

☆ up next: making one piece boys considering fatherhood

☆ summary: what happens when you pair pirates, a pretty lady, and another man finding her attractive? jealousy! , suggestive content

☆ a/n: law fever is rotting my brain.. suggest characters for part three!

☆ part 1 here!

law

1.26k words

“Hopefully we can come up with something good,” Law explained, “Or this whole plan is going to fall apart pretty quickly.”

You gently pat his back as you walked with him, “You will, Captain.”

He smiled, appreciative of the gesture. 

You both stopped in front of an intricate hand-carved wooden door with a gorgeous brass handle. 

You both lightly laughed at the breathtaking beauty of the door.

The Straw Hats’ shipwright didn’t cut corners. 

“Nicest library entrance you’ve ever seen in your life or what?” you joked, opening the door. 

He laughed and you felt a strong hand on your back guiding you into the library on the Thousand Sunny. 

Sanji was in the library reading and stood up as soon as you walked in.

“Y/n!” 

You waved, walking over towards him.

Law begrudgingly followed. 

He didn’t dislike any of the straw hats, but he also didn’t have a fondness for the flirty cook who couldn’t keep his eyes or hands off you. 

“I was just about to start dinner,” he whispered, “Care for a drink?”

Law rolled his eyes. Was the whispering necessary when he was standing less than five feet away?

“Oh! I’d love to!”

Law sighed, “I’m gonna head to the meeting room, Y/n.”

“Okay,” you replied, “I’ll see you later then?”

He nodded, giving you a soft smile before turning to Sanji and excusing himself. 

The cook didn’t miss how his fists clenched at his sides on his way out.

“Ready for a drink?” Sanji asked you.

“Ready!”

He responded with some french expression and led you towards the kitchen with him. 

Once there you offered to help Sanji with cooking dinner and stationed yourself in front of the window. 

He took a few things out of the oven and you watched as he rubbed a lime wedge around the rim of a shot glass. 

What the hell is she doing?

Law watched you through the kitchen window, washing vegetables, holding a pretty drink, 

taking sips as you laughed at whatever unfunny thing the straw hat cook what saying.

He had brought you on board with him because he knew you liked their company but this wasn’t supposed to be some play date.  

It was a strategy meeting.

For him, at least. 

He lost track of what Luffy and Robin were saying as he watched the two of you through the window. 

Sanji placed an apron over you, gently tying the strings to fit you. Clearly looking down at your breasts. 

He looked up, making eye contact with Law, catching onto the glare the surgeon was giving him.

Law watched a subtle smile spread across the cook’s face.

Pervert.

He heard Luffy mention something or other, no doubt a useless strategy he would refute if he were thinking straight, but all he could imagine was if he were standing in Sanji’s place. 

He’d be making something different that’s for sure. 

Law knew you hated carrots, but he also knew you’d never complain about anything and felt his fists clench as he watched you politely wash the vegetables. 

He also knew you hated alcohol but watched you sip your drink anyway. 

You were too nice for your own good, and Law felt like he had the responsibility of making sure you weren’t taken advantage of. 

You washed the last of the vegetables and placed them in a bowl.

“Let me help with more,” you insisted, “I’m no chef but I could cut these.”

“Of course! As long as you don’t get hurt.”

You giggled, “Trust me, I’ve dealt with worse,” you jokingly gestured over toward the room Law was in. 

You started chopping away at some carrots, stopping when you realized yours were a lot less even than Sanji’s.

“Want some tips?” 

You nodded, slightly embarrassed. 

Sanji stood behind you.

You felt his chest against your back and he softly placed his hands on top of yours, showing you the correct motions to use when chopping.   

You stood still, letting Sanji’s arms wrap around you, his hands resting on top of yours, continuing your previous conversation.

Law looked up again and saw red. 

He knew the cook wasn’t stupid, and that you were probably appreciative of the attention he was giving you.

He broke the pencil in his hand and tensed his jaw.

He looked ready to explode and Luffy and Robin turned around to look at what had pissed him off. 

“Mugiwara-ya,” he started, his stomach twisting, “Tell your pervert of a cook to get his hands off my sniper.” 

Law was seething.

Luffy turned to look into the kitchen and laughed, “Don’t worry, Traffy! Sanji is always nice to women.”

Robin who had also turned to look and stood up, a sly smile spreading across her face as excused herself, making her way towards you and Sanji. 

Law’s nerves worsened, Shit, shit, shit. 

He knew Robin had most likely caught onto what his anger was about.

He didn’t need anyone else to know how he felt about you. 

It was difficult enough for him, and he’d rather cut off his hands than let you find out. 

He felt trapped.

Luffy was yapping nonstop, none of which he was registering. 

He could hear his heart pounding in his chest and felt sweat forming on his forehead.

This was going to ruin everything. He was awkward and non-sociable. He didn’t make you fancy drinks and wasn’t naturally romantic, and most importantly he was about one hundred percent certain you didn’t feel the same way. 

He felt nauseous as he watched Robin open the kitchen door and approach the two of you. 

He watched you and Sanji look up at him. 

His stomach dropped. 

You turned towards Robin, a concerned expression taking over your face, starting to put away what you were doing.

You approached the door, but Sanji stopped you.

He untied the apron he had placed on you and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, whispering something to you. 

That was it. 

Law stood up and slammed the door open, marching straight toward the kitchen.

Luffy followed in hot pursuit, confused. 

The kitchen door swung open and Law almost ran into you. 

“Blackleg,” Law started, “What exactly do you think you’re doing with her?”

“Cooking,” Sanji responded, playing innocent. 

“I’m sorry, Captain,” you started, a very shameful appearance on your face, “Robin told me.”

Law let out a short exhale, still glaring at Sanji.

Robin… what?

Law’s heart dropped and he looked at you, eyes slightly widened. 

“She told me that I should’ve been helping you strategize,” you explained, “I completely forgot that I had the blueprints and your notebook with me.”

Law exhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose, flooding with relief, “Right- the, uh, the blueprints. Could you bring them?”

You nodded, turning towards Sanji, “Thanks for the drink! I appreciate you making it non-alcoholic for me!”

Law felt like his head might explode. 

Of course, he had made you a non-alcoholic drink. 

“Anytime, mon Coeur,” Sanji grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on the back of it. 

“Room.”

You found yourself next to Law walking back towards the room he’d been in. 

“Don’t get distracted next time,” he scolded you.

You nodded, not saying anything. 

You felt Law take your hand in his, brushing off where you’d been kissed, before holding it. 

Your cheeks turned a violent shade of red. 

“Sanji, you ought to be more careful,” Robin said, making sure Law was still within earshot, “I never would've taken him as the jealous type!”

shanks

1.2k words

Shanks never got jealous. 

And if he was anything, he was confident. It was no secret that he had a woman waiting for him on every island and that he could have anyone he wanted. 

Except you. 

The newest addition to the crew and the most beautiful. 

He’d traveled the world, all four seas, and never once come across anything as gorgeous as you. 

Not a single thing compared to any part of you. 

Unfortunately, Beckman seemed to agree. 

He watched as the two of you sat and talked, sharing a bottle of wine, no less. 

Any progress he seemed to make with you, or any time you seemed to be reciprocating his affections, he’d find you and Benn together the next day. 

“I’m kind of hoping being at sea all the time will eventually get less nauseating,” you said. 

Benn laughed, “It will! The first time I set sail I was seasick for three weeks. Thought I’d never accommodate and was just about getting ready to hang up any hopes of being a pirate.”

“What changed?”

“Shanks helped, actually. Told me to try sucking on mints. Worked wonders.”

“Mints?”

“Yeah,” he explained, “Apparently they have a numbing effect which ends up canceling out nausea. He has them on hand all the time.” 

You took a sip of your wine, “Maybe I should ask him for some.”

“Just be careful with him,” Benn teased, “He can be a handful. Mind giving me a light?”

You leaned over towards him, holding your lighter to the cigarette between his lips. 

“Do you know where he is?” you said, standing up, downing the rest of the wine in your glass.

“Try his bedroom, he might still be sleeping. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind being woken up by you though,” Benn said, a sly look spreading over his face. 

You’d have asked what he meant if nausea hadn’t already started to set back in. 

You knocked on his bedroom door lightly, trying to steady your breathing as you weren’t sure if you felt like fainting or throwing up.

“Um... Captain?” you called out, “I know it’s early but, uh, I was wondering if you had any mints?”

This was awkward. You should probably feel more comfortable talking to the man who invited you to be a part of his crew.

You waited by the door for a few minutes with no answer. 

You groaned and decided that you’d have a peek inside only to see if he was sleeping and if he was you’d.. well, you didn’t know.

It would probably be weird to go in and wake him. 

You took a deep breath in and slowly turned the handle, opening the door as little as possible to see if he was inside. 

“Whatcha lookin’ for, baby?”

A strong voice called out to you from the end of the hall.

You nearly passed out.

“Captain!! I was- I was just- Oh my God, I’m so sorry I know how this looks I was just looking for you because Beckman said that you might still be sleeping and I needed-”

Shanks held up a dismissive hand to cut you off. 

“Cute,” he said, looking at how your cheeks deepened in color, “But if you wanted some time in my bedroom with me you could always just ask.”

A flirty smile settled onto his face, and he wasn’t shy about holding eye contact. 

You averted your eyes to the floor and tried to explain again, “I need a mint. Benn said I could ask you for one since you carry them all the time.”

His smile faltered for a split second, “And what would you and Benn need a mint for?”

Your cheeks darkened even more and you felt embarrassment creeping up your neck and onto your face.

“Oh, n-no it’s nothing like that! I just-,” you paused not exactly wanting to admit to your captain that you got seasick very easily, an arguably bad trait for a pirate to have.

“Hm,” Shanks tossed you two mints with a wink, “Give him a high five for me.”

“It’s not like that!”

Your protests fell on deaf ears, as he was already on his way out. 

The rest of your day was calm. The sea seemed to have taken pity on you and the waves evened out after your first mint. 

You’d found a spot on the upper deck of the ship earlier in the week. A corner tucked behind the captain’s office, where the railing was wide enough to sit quite comfortably on and you got a nice view of the sunset. 

It was nice to have a serene little spot to yourself where you could enjoy the peace and quiet. You turned the corner, ready to relax, when you saw Shanks sat on your ledge.

“Came to find me sweetheart?”

“Sorry to intrude,” you started, “Didn’t know this was your spot.”

Shanks laughed, “It is directly behind my room you know.”

“Right, yeah.”

You awkwardly shuffled your feet.

“I get really seasick,” you said before you could think it through.

Shanks looked at you with amusement, though you could tell he didn’t really understand.

“That’s why I needed a mint. I got nauseous and felt faint and I asked Benn for help and he told me to ask you. Said you’d helped him with the same thing.”

An irritatingly sly smile spread across his face.

You bit your lip, not wanting to say anything, but clearly irritated at his enjoyment of the fact. 

“What the hell is that face supposed to mean?”

“Sweetheart, you just made my day,” he said. 

“Is that so?” You understood what was going on pretty clearly now.

He nodded, standing up and extending a hand toward you.

You hesitantly took it. 

He pulled you in towards him and placed a hand on your lower back, leaning you slightly backward and bringing his face to hover over yours. 

“How could I not be hurt that such a beautiful woman was showing no interest in me?”

“I assume that means me,” you teased.

“It does.”

“And what makes you think I’m interested now?”

“Well, aside from the fact that you have no protest to my current hand placement, you were very clearly interested in the prospect of joining me in the bedroom earlier-” 

A harsh slap to his arm cut the rest of that sentence off. 

He let out a loud, hearty laugh.

“You are very handsome, Captain,” you started.

“Please go on.”

“But I can’t say I’m terribly interested,” you said. 

“And why is that?”

“You know every man in this world has heard of your terrifying power. How strong and feared you are.”

His face was gleaming with pride. 

You laughed to yourself. He really thought he had you wrapped around his finger.

“But every woman? Every woman has heard of-”

“My muscles?”

“No.”

“Then surely, my devastatingly good looks?”

 “Also no.”

“Then enlighten me.”

“How quickly you leave the morning after.”

He stood still, completely silenced.

You leaned towards him, hovering your lips millimeters away from his.

“But I have to admit that I liked seeing you jealous.”

You gently pulled his hands from your waist, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight, Captain.”

kidd

1.1k words

Generally speaking, dealing with men was a daily occurrence you could do without. 

You were getting better at turning them down, and in your years of experience learned that the best course of action was to bat your eyes and appeal to them, maybe even adopt an apologetic tone, and softly say to them,

“I’m so sorry! I’m just not looking for anything right now.”

Telling them you had a boyfriend only encouraged them to try harder, being rude invited violence and the use of the word ‘bitch’, and ignoring them often led to all of the above. 

Of course, if you decided to tell them who your boyfriend was they’d probably leave you alone but it was probable that you’d be accused of lying and you hated having to use his name to be shown some respect or decency. 

Ideally, your boyfriend would never know. 

The only thing he didn’t seem to be able to control was his temper, and if there was one thing you didn’t want to deal with it was how unbearably possessive he got when he was upset. 

And since the majority of the time it was innocent flirting, you just brushed it off. 

You woke up and stretched yourself out on the bed, pulling the covers off of you and Kidd.

“There’s a farmer’s market in town today! Wanna come? I really want peaches and we don’t grow any here.” 

He groaned and rolled over on his side, facing away from you. 

You grabbed his bicep and placed kisses up and along his neck, your movement and eagerness urging him to wake up. 

“Please! You never go out with me,” you said, the tone of your voice pulling at a few of his heartstrings. 

“I can’t today.”

“You never can.”

You sat up and moved toward the edge of the bed. 

The pirate stayed in bed, silently. 

“I have… stuff to do, princess,” he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into him. 

You couldn’t help but smile at his embrace, you knew this was the closest you’d get to an apology. 

“Alright,” you said, “Well I’m gonna go now before it gets too hot out.” 

He begrudgingly let go of you, watching as you disappeared into your closet. 

He was in a worse mood than usual throughout the entirety of the day and spent his time huffing and puffing around. 

He felt guilty that he hadn’t given you the attention he knew you deserved and when he checked the clock and saw it was half past four in the afternoon and you still weren’t back he had to stop himself from breaking everything in the room. 

He contained the oncoming rampage as best he could and made his way toward the village. He walked through crowds of people and his irritation was nearing its peak when he saw you.

You had a basket full of different fruits and vegetables and jarred things and a few different wine bottles. It looked heavy and you were clearly struggling to carry it. 

He had half a mind to take some of the weight off with a string or two, but decided against it, his irritation getting the best of him. 

You made your way to another stall, selling flowers and before you could place your basket on the floor, a young man offered to carry it for you. 

He was smiling from ear to ear, and much to the captain’s disgust looked extremely eager to help you. 

You smiled back and accepted his offer, handing him the basket, which he happily held for you. 

At least she doesn’t have to carry it, he thought, his cheeks turning red with anger. 

But he stayed standing where he was and decided to watch the scene before him play out.

You grabbed a few different flower bouquets and turned to the boy to ask for his opinion, it seemed you liked the dark red carnations. 

He nodded and you reached into your pockets to grab a few coins. 

You laughed when your hand came out empty and began placing the flowers back.

Before you could the boy interjected and offer the vendor a few berries.  

Kidd’s body temperature reached a peak and he saw red. 

He violently pushed people out of his way, walking towards you, causing a scene as he yelled, “Oi! If you need money, I have some!!!”

Fuck.

You recognized his voice and turned around as though you’d just been caught in the middle of a murder.

“Kidd! I thought you were busy today-”

“Don’t,” he said, turning towards the boy, his metallic hand making its way toward his throat, “I suggest you hand me the basket and fuck off.”

Your cheeks were red with embarrassment and you offered an apologetic look to the boy, who looked ready to cry. 

You placed the flowers in your basket- the vendor readily waved any charge - and with Kidd’s hand firmly set on your waist, made your way back to the ship. 

“You know he was just being nice, right? And it’s your fault I needed help carrying the basket since you were busy doing ‘stuff’.” 

The air quotes you placed around stuff pissed him off. 

He stayed silent and you knew that he felt bad. 

But you didn’t really care, and you were pissed off. Not only had he caused a scene, but he had pretty much ensured that any other shopping you had planned for the day would have to be left unfinished. 

“And if you really want something to be upset about, you should probably know that I didn’t even pay for half of those things because when men see a pretty woman all on her own, they figure she needs some help and are always more than ready to offer it.”

The veins on Kidd’s forehead were popping out and he clamped his mouth shut. 

“But I get it! Playing poker and building legos with Killer all day is more important, so don’t get upset at me or the man actually offering to help me.”

You stormed off once you got to the ship and ignored him for the rest of the night. 

Heat and Wire laughed their asses off at their moping captain, and Killer went to have some tea with you later that night. 

When you went shoe shopping the following day, Kidd made sure he was by your side the entire time, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t get him to let go of your hand. 

[dotster001]

Househusband Au HC'S

Summary:Crewel/Crowley/Vil/Rook/Malleus/Idia x gn!reader

Requested by @stygianoir

A/N: my tag list is still packed so hopefully you guys find this 😂

CW:sus gardener Rook, discussions of Idia's depression and fear of death, but I think that's it

Part Two. Part Three

Most well dressed parent at the PTA meeting. Puts everyone to shame, and makes all the other parents and teachers jealous.

Cooks five star meals exclusively , and makes sure you get your proper intake of nutrients. He can't have his favorite pup lacking in proper nutrition!

One hundred percent coordinates your outfits for you everyday. You're the best dressed worker, all because your husband hand sews you outfits designed to blow the competition out of the water.

Pretends he's not snuggly, until nighttime, then he gets pouty. He'll be aggressively folding laundry, and not speaking to you until you come to bed and let him hold you.

You own twelve dogs. Each dog has an individual diet it is on, that is hand made by him everyday. He knows exactly what every dog needs, and makes sure to memorize what each dog needs.

If you want kids, you will adopt/birth at least three. He likes a full house. Majored in alchemy before he settled down as your househusband, and is more than happy to tutor not just your kids, but also their friends, in alchemy.

Sings like Roger from 101 dalmatians because I said so. Also he plays the piano like him. Because I said so. I'm weak okay!

They say he had an illustrious career as a model, then he met you. That's only half true though. He was planning on retiring anyway, and just happened to meet you around that time. He likes to let the tabloids believe it was all your fault. It makes him laugh. Vil Schoenheit bows to no one! Now drink your smoothie!

Healthy meals constantly. He somehow managed to make them all taste good though. It's a little suspicious honestly…what does he put in that smoothie? You never liked smoothies for breakfast before…

He likes to do your nightly routine for you. It's his love language. At 7 pm sharp, he clears his throat, and gestures for you to sit down. Then he brushes out your hair, does your skin care routine, dresses you in pajamas, and tucks you in, making sure to give you a kiss on the forehead before he joins you.

If you aren't home in time for your nightly routine, he goes to bed early, turned away from your side of the bed. He will not speak to you, even though you know full well he is awake. He knows deep down it's not your fault, but he has simmering rage and no one else to take it out on.

That said, when you do fight (which you do a lot) he'll storm out before he can be particularly nasty. But you'll wake up to a single rose on the pillow next to you, and a new pair of shoes to wear to work.

You have one fluffy white cat, or one child. It's one or the other in Vil's pristine house. This isn't a barn, for seven's sake.

Cooks, cleans, gardens…. he's made for this life. You don't even know where he gets the time for it.

Rook prides himself on having the best garden in the neighborhood. Your neighbors asked him what fertilizer he used, and he wrapped an arm around you and giggled about how it was "the most organic around". Considering the last time you had to do laundry there were red stains on his clothes, you choose not to ask questions.

If you have kids, there are three of them, each two years apart. He makes the perfect paper bag lunches for them everyday, with little french notes in them (raising bilingual kids in this family). As he drops them off at school he kisses each one on the top of the head, and jovially waves them off.

You have two dogs that he takes hunting with him on his solo weekends (they aren't often, because he can barely stand to part from you!) But you also have a rabbit. He gave it your name, and likes to tease you by saying how he "caught his lapin" and never saying whether he's referring to you or the rabbit.

Another one who makes sure you look your best at work. But his favorite thing is when you forget your lunch, and he "has" to bring it to work for you. This is when he is at his most dressed up, and your outfits compliment eachother the most. He loves the gazes of envy that come his way as he kisses you and hands you your lunch.

When he's not doing chores at break neck speed, he wants you to either be in his arms, or him in yours. He doesn't care which! Please, his poor heart needs you!

Trust fund baby. Born rich, then married you. Tried to convince you not to work, but you wanted to, for whatever reason, so he "allows" it. (Who is he kidding? He could never deny you anything, what a simp) he sulks all day though, moping like a lovesick teen until you come home. Heaven forbid you forget something and have to come back in before you actually left, because he has your boss on speed dial, and will call you in sick. Oh, you just left your wallet? Too late, he assumed you had fallen ill and had chosen to stay home with him! 

He's a little clueless on cooking and household chores (Lilia is no help) but he tries! Boy does he try! And it's not half bad. Not stellar, but not bad. You've only gotten food poisoning once, and he's only ever burnt a hole in two of your shirts with an iron.

Loves to serenade you with his violin on special occasions. You know the evening is going to be wonderful when he pulls it out. Oftentimes, it's a song he wrote for you, and sometimes he even sings along.  His deep timbre will often have you so relaxed that you start to drift off. He's fine with that! More time to cuddle!

Speaking of, he starts the night out by laying on his side of the bed, and by the end of the night he is wrapped around you like a koala. He also gets very hot at night. You often don't need a blanket. You asked him about it once, and he said something about "draconic internal temperature regulation", whatever the fuck that means.

You had to put him on a budget because he buys you every shiny thing he sees. He always goes over budget, and always insists it's the last time and it will never happen again. This, friends, is what we call a lie.

He's only a househusband in name, really. He still has an income/job in the form of streaming and YouTube videos. But he stays at home, and likes it when you call him your househusband. He gets all blushy and smiley. He likes the idea of being the one you look forward to coming home to.

Ortho lives with you both, obviously. And he does all the cooking and cleaning. But he and Idia have an unspoken agreement that if you ask, he helped too.

Calls you at work at least once a day. It's always during your lunch break though, so that you can "eat lunch together" You know his mental health difficulties are acting up if he calls you more than once though.You don't have to come home, he'll be alright, he just needs to hear your voice.

His stream only knows you as player 2. When you get back from work, he'll say "Oh player 2 just got home!" And get so excited. He'll run off stream to give you a kiss, and won't come back until you remind him he's streaming. His followers have been there through the whole progression of your relationship, and despite not knowing what you look like, and only hearing your voice off screen every once in a while, they adore Gloomy Samurai and Player 2.

You always have two cats at a time, usually the ones at the shelter or humane society that are bonded or siblings. He doesn't want to separate a family, and also gets nervous about the inevitability of death. So you always have two cats. That way if something happens you always have one.

Yes. You get him to start telehealth therapy, and medication. Why do you ask?

He tries, bless his heart. His cooking is not bad, but his cleaning skills are subpar. To be honest, he's not cut out for the househusband life, but you've heard horror stories about how he handled his previous jobs. So for the sake of the world, you do your best to ensure he stays here.

"He's so generous" 🙄 Any time he goes a little bit above what you expected from him, he drops that line. A particularly good dessert? How generous. He actually folded laundry today? So magnanimous. But it hurts his pride if you don't agree, and you married him for some reason, right?

He has an allowance, and usually spends all of it. Sometimes it's gifts for you, but a lot of times it's for him. Which, it's his allowance, so that's fine. But he buys the weirdest stuff and doesn't use it. It just sits around your home.

If you have to work on something on the home computer, good luck to you. Home is for loving him, not working! He'll slip into your lap, give you a sexy pout, and start caressing your cheek, and tracing shapes into your neck. Then he'll start talking about how you're neglecting him, just put the work away and come cuddle with him. 

Where he shines though, is if you guys end up with kids. He's a surprisingly good father, making sure they all are clean, safe, and well fed. He helps with homework, and is surprisingly good at it, he's good at seeing what their needs are, he knows immediately when one of the kids is sick, and is at the doctor right away… you don't know where these skills came from. But the second the kids are in bed, he's back to being your needy husband.

[riding-the-sunset-bird]

I was in a Baxter mood today so I went swimming in GB Patch's blog for all the Baxter facts:

General

His personality, at least defined by GB Patch, is that he's sheltered and out-of-touch without being elitist or self-centered. He's preppy/posh, quite sociable, and hates conflict, but likes to go against what's expected of him. He grows out of being such a rich kid trust fund baby by Step 4.

His parents are bigots. He's the unlucky one in a sea of characters with supportive parents.

He has a distant French origin.

His birthday is the day his DLC came out, meaning May 19th.

He's 5'11" (180cm) in Step 4 (this was apparently reconfirmed on the Our Life Discord as well).

His natural hair color - a dark dusty gray that he hates - is uncommon to be born with (as opposed to aged into) in the Our Life universe.

Childhood

His dream job as a child was to get into investments, having a strong portfolio with diverse assets (he does not fully know what that means at the time).

He's a late bloomer.

Baxter's crush on Qiu from Our Life 2 is at its peak when he's 12 and 13 (13 being his age in Our Life 2's Step 1), but he's moving on by 14 (when he can potentially meet the MC in Soiree).

He met Qiu at their local dance hall (as they both took lessons there, just in different forms of dance) and also met Ren/Renee (Darren in Our Life 2's Step 1) through Qiu, as the two had known each other since they were very young.

He wasn't thrown off by his crush on Qiu despite Qiu being a boy, as Qiu was popular and it seemed "unfair" to Baxter not to be able to like him. He puts more thought into it as he grows older and what it means, deciding that he'll feel however he'll feel and not worry about what's expected of him. In Soiree, the MC can notice this if they're male or non-binary, as Baxter isn't bothered by dancing with someone who isn't female.

Abilities (or Lack Thereof)

He's a weak swimmer. He can swim fine in pools but would probably struggle in the ocean.

He can sing.

He's experienced in multiple types of dance (though his favorite is the waltz).

Step 3 Baxter is a lazy, bad cook who doesn't even want to bother with cooking, but Step 4 Baxter takes an interest in trying more fancy/restaurant-style food and is able to do so.

Likes/Dislikes

He likes things being clean, but isn't always motivated enough to maintain that.

He liked video games when he was a kid, leaning towards action/adventure ones, though doesn't anymore in his late teens and beyond. He would play life-based games (such as the Sims series) with the MC if asked, however, either playing innocent like he didn't know what he was doing while messing around with the characters or being blatantly obvious about it.

He doesn't like dancing in clubs/discos. He would try it once because he enjoys trying different types of dance, but would only go regularly if he had a friend/partner who liked going to such places.

He would absolutely approve of an MC who chooses to only wear black and white.

Romantic Inclinations

Beyond his crush on Qiu (who he never confessed to), Baxter dates people, but never for long or seriously.

The reason he backs out of asking out the MC if they say that he's their first crush (unless the MC is referring to his Soiree self) is that he feels they have idealized feelings for him and he'd disappoint them. He essentially panics, not wanting to get the MC's hopes up and especially on their very first feelings of romance.

The best way to romance him is to Not Let Him Escape.

When it comes to what he's attracted to in another person, he likes seeing nail polish, false lashes/heavy mascara/naturally long eyelashes, and full suits (especially if they're expertly tailored).

His love language in terms of receiving is Quality Time, but in terms of giving, he will happily adapt to whatever the MC wants.

Clothing Choices

When it comes to Step 4 Baxter's personal dress code, he's always meeting/formal ready (even when not working) unless he's doing anything athletic, in which case the button-downs get a break.

- Likewise, his closet is basically all button-downs and fancy suits with a few exceptions including clothes suited for the cold.

Assorted

He immediately finds the MC and Cove appealing (not necessarily crushing on them) at the start of Step 3 as "beautiful beach strangers."

He'd be flattered to hear from an MC that they love his laugh/find it charming.

He says "hallelujah" because he's pretentious.

He doesn't know French, but does occasionally drop a French word he knows during Step 3 to "add to his formal flair." His Step 4 self considers it embarrassing in hindsight.

During the wedding in Baxter's Step 4, he will have Jude send along a vegan cupcake to the MC if they're vegan.

Semi-revealed during one of his mornings with the MC in Step 4, he has a multi-step daily skincare routine.

His Future

He has no preference over who he'd prefer to be the one to propose to the other in his relationship with the MC.

He would absolutely want to plan his own wedding (whether for or with the MC, depending on whether they want to be involved). He would not want another planner included.

He doesn't have a preference when it comes to last names during a wedding. He's just in awe that he's marrying someone at all.

He might consider having facial hair at some point in his life.

When it comes to having kids, he doesn't have any particular age he'd prefer to have them and is more of a "when it feels right" kind of guy. In terms of the number of kids, none is his default but he'd prefer to have two if the MC wants them, as he finds the relationship between the MC and Liz to be lovely and was personally lonely as an only child.

🍋 (below are asks that might be considered risqué - especially going to the posts themselves on some - but I wanted to include them for the sake of having all the information in one place; know that me and my prudish nature pushed through this for the people who want it and I hope you appreciate it! >:o) 🍋

This one definitely goes without saying due to being a love interest in a game where the MC can be she/they/he even down to being intersex, but Baxter is pansexual.

Baxter isn't good at being sexually active beyond being with an MC who wants that. He tries to bond with others but either fails to have his interest reciprocated due to being too forward or backtracks if he senses that someone is actually into him. His relationships are short/inconsistent for that reason.

He would never sleep with the MC during Step 3. He's already planning on leaving and wouldn't risk souring the relationship at any point even if the MC would want it. He wants company more than he wants sex and would not want to be remembered as the guy who slept with the MC and then just left without contacting them again.

Between chests and backsides, Baxter prefers the latter.

Baxter is a top (though is flexible on the matter), is into BDSM, and "kind of" has a sir kink.

[realisticfanfictions]

Being Sanji's Girlfriend & Baratie's Head Waitress.

Sanji x Waitress!Reader

Working at Baratie wasn't without its challenges, and the fights that sprung up because of them weren't rare either. You and your boyfriend never sweated the small stuff, after all working in a high stress environment made you, well, stressed. But maybe some things can't be resolved that easily.

Tags: Sanji x Reader, Waitress!Reader, constant bickering, mostly fluff with some angst, (heavy) swearing.

A/N: I love the Waitress!Reader so much for OPLA, so I've decided to do another one! I had to split this up into multiple parts, cause this ended up being a bit long. (Link to part two.)

Word Count is 4,829. Hope you enjoy!

"Where the fuck are my entrees?!" Your voice echoed in the enclosed space, cutting through the melodic and rhythmic sounds of frying, chopping and other things that went on in a kitchen. You brushed past another waitress who wisely got out of your way, your heels clicking against the tiles as you marched up to the pass and slammed your copy of the meal ticket down. "Chef!" You called out, pushing back a strand of your hair as you scanned the chefs who were cooking at a ferocious pace. You locked eyes with an unfortunate new chef, but despite him immediately looking at his feet and trying to walk by, you reached through the window and pulled him by the collar. "Who the hell is on entrees?" He stumbled over his words and you groaned in frustration at his pathetic attempt at the English language.

"That's me." You pushed him back and looked past the cowering chef at the man who had just spoken up, your boyfriend and the love of your life, Sanji. His normally pressed and tidy chef attire was in disarray with his shirt untucked and his sleeves stained with various sauces. He sounded hoarse and was covered in a thin layer of sweat as he cooked some type of meat, flipping it over in the pan to cook it evenly. Intense concentration was etched into his face and the way he scrunched his nose was adorable, but right now you couldn't think of anything else but punching it.

You opened your mouth to speak, but a nearby busboy ran in front of you and you snarled at him. "Watch it, asshole!" You refocused your attention back on the blonde in front of you. "I have thirty-eight tables out there with at least four head a table, and only two waitresses working the floor-!"

He shook his head and his pan aggressively hit the stove top each time he moved it. "You know, it sounds so hard to look pretty and run around in heels all night, but I actually have a real job-"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, really. And I'd appreciate it if I didn't have you bitching in my ear all night!" He threw some butter in the pan and began to bast the meat.

"Then maybe, if you were actually good at your 'real job'," You said with quotation marks. "Then you'd tell me why the shit it takes thirty-five goddamn minutes for a premade french onion soup!"

He whipped around with a laddle in his hand and he marched over to the pass. You both bent down to see each other through the window. "Hey, if I had any fucking help around here I would have gotten that to you twenty minutes ago, but I'm stuck here-"

"And here we go!" You exclaimed as you threw up your hands dramatically and walked through the swinging doors. You avoided Pattie walking out with a tray of fresh bread and popped on an apron attached to a nearby hook.

"-with my thumb up my arse because apparently no one knows how to plate a damn steak in this kitchen!" He moved around you as you took his place, grabbing the offending meat and placing it atop of the mashed potatoes.

Annoyed, you grabbed the garnish. "Well, where the hell's the plating station?"

Sanji came back and unceremoniously dropped a large stock pot next to you. He bent down to look you in the eye and threw his hands up in the air. "He quit."

Your eyes widened and followed him as he walked to the other side of you and started plating beside you. "He what?"

"He fucking quit! Just like every other bitch who couldn't handle Tuesdays at the Baratie." His brows furrowed and he let out a small shout of frustration. "Whoever the fuck did the halibut, refry it!" He yelled as he set it off to the side. "Just 'cause we're busy doesn't mean you can push out a shit and pass it off as fine dining!"

You plated another order and put it under the heat lamp at the pass, then rang the bell, but no one came. "And we're short-staffed on waitresses too!" You exclaimed and spotted the busboy from before, "Oi! You! Get off your ass and start serving!" You threw your ticket-book and pen at him, which he barely caught from where he was sitting.

"B-But I'm washing dishes-!"

You dramatically gestured around. "We aren't even sending anything out, so unless you've been storing them up your rectum, what fucking dishes are you washing?!" You grabbed the french onion soup in the stock pot that Sanji had given you and quickly poured it into three bowls laced with garnish on top. "Take these to 12, and the steak to 24. Tell 12 that they'll get a free dessert in about twenty minutes. Well? Get a move on! You aren't getting paid to sit there and look pretty, 'cause you sure as hell ain't fucking pretty!" He scrambled to pick them up and he quickly ran out of the kitchen.

"That turned me on more than I'd like to admit." Sanji appeared beside you with another plate and rang the service bell. "If we weren't busy I'd kiss you, darling." He exclaimed as he grabbed a handful of garnish and placed it atop of the plate.

"Oi, fuckface." When he looked over, you quickly pressed a kiss to his lips and grabbed the metal tray of halibut. "Now, let's get these pretentious pricks fed!"

You both worked side by side, barking orders at each other and bickering over every little thing you could - even Zeff yelled at you both to shut up. But it worked. Within minutes, you both had worked through the back orders and finally got to a point where you weren't struggling to complete orders from guests who'd been waiting for hours. When the last table left, you and Sanji just about collapsed. Leaning against the cool wall tile with you by his side, he sighed. "That was definitely one of our busiest days," He said with pure relief that it was finally over.

You couldn't remain standing and slid down the wall, your high heels clicking as you sat down. "Yeah, who knew so many people would wanna celebrate Father's Day?" You replied sarcastically, but a playful smile told your boyfriend that you weren't being mean. He softly chuckled and followed suit, sliding down the wall until he reached the floor with a groan.

He pulled out his cigarettes. "I've earned one of these." He says as he puts it between his lips and waits for you to light it. You roll your eyes and oblige, taking out your lighter and lighting the end of it for him. He took a slow drag, closed his eyes, savoured it, and then exhaled out the smoke.

"You almost make lung cancer look sexy." You remarked with a grin, and he returned it with his own charming, beautiful smile.

His eyes slowly flicked up and down. "And you always make yelling and shouting look so sexy." He licked his lips and leaned in, giving you a kiss that lingered. Your eyes fluttered shut and you enjoyed the small respite from the craziness you had both just experienced. Even when the kiss eventually ended, neither one of you moved away. "Are you working tonight?" He asked under his breath.

You sighed and pecked his lips. "In two hours."

"Till?"

"Four."

"Shit."

"I know." You pressed your lips against his once more and moved some hair out of his face. "But, I'm not working tomorrow so we can sleep in."

He sighed. "I start at nine tomorrow."

"Till?"

"Six."

"Shit."

"I know." You both quietly laughed and pressed your noses together, then rubbed them together while stealing kisses and giggling like you used to when you were kids.

You'd been at the Baratie ever since you were fifteen, and you'd been dating Sanji since you were sixteen. It wasn't really something you both had officially decided on, nor did either one of you do this big, elaborate confession that made both of you ugly-cry. It happened slowly over time. Many customers and fellow staff would constantly tease you both with things like, "Where's your girlfriend, Sanji?" and, "Aw! You both are so cute together!" At first you both denied it, but eventually you just... stopped correcting people. You were each other's first kiss, first love... first love, and despite how it looks from the outside, you couldn't be happier.

"Oi, Sanji." You called out as you leaned closer to the mirror to focus on your eyeshadow. "Be careful, there's been a lot of pirate activity lately. They might stop by, so Zeff has officially-unofficially instated a no-tolerance policy for- Sanji!" You laughed when your boyfriend wrapped his arms around you and you struggled to do your makeup while Sanji hung off of you and pressed kisses along your cheek. "You toad! You're going to ruin my smokey eye."

He playfully moaned. "But you're so sexy," He whined and pulled back enough to give you puppy eyes. "And you shouldn't work tonight if there's pirates anyway."

"I still have to work." You replied, giving up on doing your makeup and stealing a quick kiss from him. "I'm the head of front-of-house, I can't just ring up Zeff and say, 'hey, your son wants to sleep with me so I can't come in today!'"

"No, you can't." At the sound of his voice, you looked up to see that your boss had entered you and Sanji's shared room. He would have seen the neatly pressed and ironed button-downs wrapped around hangers, and two mismatching pairs of high heels strewn about the floor. His eyes met yours. "We have a full house of rich, but important pricks tonight, and I need all hands on deck. If someone calls in sick, drag them out of bed if you have to."

Your boyfriend pouted playfully. "But she never gets any time off, can't we just-"

"(Y/N) is our head of house, she's too important to lose tonight." Zeff straightened up and crossed his arms over. "Little Eggplant, you can't distract (Y/N) from doing her job. Unlike you, she has to work to stay here." The old man looked over at you and you nodded, you knew that you were a staff member first and foremost - being the girlfriend of his adopted son was second to that.

Sanji's smile tightened, and he stood up. "I know." His blue eyes flashed with something that you meant he wanted to say something but didn't. His smile returned when he looked at you. "I'll see you in the morning."

As he brushed past Zeff and walked out of the room, you furrowed your eyebrows at your boss and father figure. "Now that's one way to get him pissed off at you." The words came out a little more aggressive than you meant to, but you didn't bother correcting yourself.

He sighed and turned to leave. "Leave it alone, (Y/N)."

"And one way to get me pissed off at you too." You dropped your eyeshadow onto the table and followed after him. His wide frame took up quite a bit of space in the hallway, but you squeezed past him to block his path.

Zeff groaned when he saw you and squeezed the bridge of his nose, then released it to gesture while he spoke. "(Y/N), I apologise if you felt offended. You're a part of our family, and--"

"I don't care about that." You scoffed in disbelief and gawked at his lack of social awareness. "You must be really thick in the skull if you think I'm upset about that."

His face scrunched up. "Then what are you upset about? Hm? What are you upset about now?" He gestured behind you. "I have dinner service to prep for," He started to list off on his fingers. "I have a team of flaky waitresses-your team of flaky waitresses to deal with, and I need to make sure that we have enough lamb being delivered for our special tonight. So what could it possibly be that is so important you're holding me up for?"

You counted to five in your head before opening your mouth to speak. "I love him. And I don't give a rat's ass that you sign my paycheck, or give me a roof over my head. You don't make Sanji, my boyfriend and your son, feel shitty just because you think it'll toughen him up. And you certainly don't use me to do that." You keep your gaze locked onto his. "You ever do that again? I walk." You stepped backward and straightened up. "I'll get the team ready for service."

You never regretted what you said. Was your tone harsher than it should've been? Yes, but you needed to get your point across to him. There wasn't any time to think about it though, because it was Friday night and thirty minutes before opening - you didn't have the time to regret what you said.

"Ladies!" You called out, then smiled. "And Sapi." Said fishman smiled at your acknowledgement as your team of staff gathered around to form a semi-circle in front of you. You held up your checklist. "We have fifteen V.I.P tables tonight. I expect everyone to be on their best behaviour. That means no frowning, no blowing your nose on the customer's napkins, and no- oh my God, Macy. If you don't shut the fuck up." The red-lipped, pigtail-wearing waitress jolted back from where she was gossiping with another waitress. You raise your brows at her as if to ask if she was done and rolled your eyes. "And no unprofessionalism." You finished with a glare.

Spai cleared his throat. "How many free tables do we have tonight?"

You looked back at the clipboard and flipped over the page, counting quietly to yourself. "There's two at seven and one at eight. The two at seven are one and eight, and the one at eight is seven. One can be for eight, but don't offer seven to under six because seven and six are over eight. Got it?"

The room was quiet for a moment, and Sapi slowly blinked. "May I have a copy of that, please?"

"I'll bring one to your station," You looked around. "Any questions?" Silence. "Good. Now, put on your fakest smile and happy ga-ga voice - we've got a line of ships waiting to be fed!"

"Let's do this, team!" Macy's voice screeched out and she was met with silence.

You exhaled gruffly and squeezed the bridge of your nose. "Macy, I swear to- let's do this, team!" This time, it was met with a round of cheer as they dispersed to familiarise themselves with their tables for the night.

A pleased sigh escaped you, content with your small but mighty team that you had managed to drag out of bed to work the floor. A glance to the suspiciously blank specials menu made you curse under your breath. You were going to have to talk to Zeff to get tonight's specials. With a defeated sigh, you clipped your pen to your shirt and sucked in a deep breath, before making your way to the kitchen where it sounded like food preparations were already underway.

"...and get those lamb in the cold room!" Zeff's voice was apparent the second you walked through those doors. The kitchen was a mess of people marching backwards and forwards like ants while Zeff, their queen, barked orders as they passed by. You thought about just turning around and pretending that the fight had never happened in the first place, but the old man spotted you and waved you over with a finger. "What can I get you, Sprout?" You breathed out a sigh of relief, hearing his nickname for you was like a wave of fresh air.

You straightened up and grabbed your pen. "Hey geezer, what's the specials tonight?"

He waited for you to finish writing "Specials" across the top of your sheet of paper. "We have Lobster Thermidor paired with the 1500s Chardonnay, or a White Burgundy if they snub the Chardonnay. Then we have classic Red-Wine Braised Lamb Shanks that you can pair with any Grenache you find." He slid a piece of paper to you. "These are the prices. I only want you handling checks tonight."

Out of sheer habit, you slipped the piece of paper into your bra. "Why's that?"

"Because someone messed up the till last night, and I want someone I can trust running it."

That made your heart clench. You sighed. "Look, Zeff," You started and lowered your clipboard. "I'm sorry for stepping out of line earlier. I was angry. Sanji was trying to get some 'us' time because we haven't even been awake at the same time for the last couple months. And when we have it's been with me running the floor and him- you know what I mean. Look, I'd never walk out on you, Zeff."

His face, as always, was blank, but you can tell he was processing what you had just said. He was quiet, but then he nodded. "Get those specials on the board. We open in ten." You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded, then turned around. "Don't fuss, little brussel sprout."

A smile wormed its way onto your face and you looked over your shoulder at him. "Fussin' ain't worth fussing over. Isn't that what you say?" You barely dodged an incoming head of lettuce.

"Good evening, welcome to the Baratie. My name is (Y/N), can I get you started with some drinks tonight?" You were a natural at this. It didn't matter if you were having an "anti-person day", as Sanji called it, there was no denying that you had talent.

The man with soft, pink hair hummed and looked over the menu. His brass knuckles glistening under the dim lighting of the restaurant. "What are your specials for the night?"

A polite smile went a long way. "The chef has prepared for you a selection of the most wonderful meals made only from the finest and freshest ingredients in the Ease Blue. We have Lobster Thermidor paired with a Chardonnay that I find adds a bit of a fruity, uplifting compliment to the meal. And we have our high-in-demand Lamb Shanks braised in a nice red wine, and paired with only the best Grenache you can find for miles." You didn't bother telling him that it was the same Grenache you had found in the back of the freezer from four months ago.

"That sounds lovely, and what is the cost?"

You quietly hissed and looked over at the beautiful blonde who was sitting across from him, then leaned in to whisper. "I find it's best not to discuss such things on a date. You wouldn't want her to think she isn't worth it, right?"

Well, that certainly worked. He slowly looked between you and his date, who smiled sweetly and encircled the rim of her glass with her perfectly manicured french tips. He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. "You're right. We'll take one of each, and I'll have to rely on you for what pairs best."

You took the menu he offered with a smile and a nod. "Very well sir, I hope you two enjoy yourselves. Our bar is open all night." And with a wink, you danced away to the kitchen to place 'his' order. It was easy with men like that. All you had to do was dangle their woman's respect in front of them and they'd eat shit just to keep her smiling. But despite the monotony of it at times, you met a lot of interesting people from different backgrounds. You gave a small wave at the man at table two, a regular who had just come back from his royal ballet tour appearance and was with his rich, aristocrat girlfriend, who he said wasn't feeling well.

An set of voices, loud and uncouth, came from above and you stopped to cast a glance upwards. They were... pirates? Well, Zeff did say that they'd been more active around this area as of late, so it wasn't that much of a surprise - especially since there was already a couple tables of them. Sapi looked a little overwhelmed, so you sighed and grabbed a nearby waitress. "Could you take an order to the kitchen for me? It's table three with the two specials, two too. The man at two in the tutu wants it blue, but not at two with Ms. Sue in the red shoes. She has a touch of the flu, so any red meat or roux will make her spew. Got it?"

She blinked. "I think so?"

You patted her on the shoulder and briskly floated up the stairs with as much grace as a head waitress could muster. Their conversation slowly grew louder and you were able to hear some of their conversation. "My apologies, but I don't accept money for-"

"Is there something I can help you with?" At your words, the group looked over and Sapi, who had been trying to refuse some berri the orange-haired woman was offering him, visibly relaxed.

"Nothing is the matter, this group was just leaving." He answered and looked at them to see if they got the hint. The woman sighed in defeat and pocketed her cash. You looked over at the two young men leant against the railing staring into the restaurant below, they were very excited and looked as if they hadn't eaten a proper meal for a few days.

With your mind set, you glanced over at the time, then straightened up and smiled. "You know what? It's seven, so I believe we might have a booth available if that's suitable for your needs?"

She smiled and breathed out a small sigh of relief. "Thank you, here-"

You held up a hand before she could reach into her pocket. "Save that for your meal." With a quick nod to Sapi, you stepped aside and gestured toward the staircase. "Follow me." The man with green hair and three swords rubbed you the wrong way almost the second you laid eyes on him, and you could tell he felt the same way. It was almost a sense of mutual familiarity. But you broke off eye contact to lead the rest of this strange, rambunctious crew further into the Baratie. "The Baratie was established by our current owner Zeff, and we recently celebrated our tenth anniversary."

The boy in the straw hat gawked at everything he saw and heard you say, and smiled brightly. "This place looks like it serves good food!"

That brought a smile to your face. "It does," You said as you guided them to their booth amidst other pirates and similar rough-looking guests. "And I don't just say that because my boyfriend's the sous chef."

"Are you sure about that?" The guy in a pirate costume asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief and laughing along with his young friend.

You smiled along and shook your head. "I'll let you guys get settled in and will return in about five minutes with a menu. Please enjoy the music." With a few friendly waves and a "see you in a bit!" from the straw hat boy, you turned and walked toward the back of the room to collect a few menus.

Suddenly, the door slammed open and your boyfriend appeared looking more than a bit annoyed. You didn't even think he was on the line tonight, but your attention was drawn to two men who had began to cause a bit of a ruckus. You weren't close enough to hear what was being said, but you tucked the menus under your armpit and darted toward the pair that were now being consoled by Sanji. "...we don't waste food, and there's no fighting at the Baratie." You slowed your walk toward them and continued at a crawl. The man you had served not that long ago was dealing with a rowdy pirate. You heard something that sounded like a threat and Sanji spoke up again, his voice cutting through the argument before it had the chance to escalate. "And I'd like to pour you each a glass of Ithürzburger Stein. On the house."

The pirate nodded. "Okay, I'll have that drink." His brows furrowed and his voice grew irrate. "After he apologies for his bad manners!"

"Over my dead body." That was certainly the wrong answer. With a growl, they both lunged for each other and you sped toward them, watching as Sanji, in a blur, flipped over the table and kicked each of them.

The pink haired man grunted and got back up on his feet, drawing his gun but then froze when he felt something cold dig into his back. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." You warned, shoving your own gun into his back and whispered in his ear. "Drop it." Like the coward he was, he did and you effortlessly slammed the butt of your weapon into his temple - knocking him out cold.

You motioned for a nearby waitress to deal with the unconscious men, then snapped your attention to Sanji who picked up his plate of scones and continued his walk. "No cause for alarm, folks. Please, enjoy your meals." He called out and you quickly pocketed your gun back into your thigh-holster, smoothing out your dress and turning to the waitress who had arrived at your side.

After gesturing for her to take them out the back door, you readjusted yourself and quickly walked up to Sanji's side who's forced smile made you tilt your head in confusion. He shook his head, he didn't want to talk about it just yet. You both made the few steps over to the table you had just seated and, despite his mood, he set down the plate with his usual grace. "Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambience is the food. My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?" While he spoke, you placed down some menus and tried to ignore the straw hat boy who was currently stuffing his face full of our complimentary scones.

The woman grabbed a menu from you with a smile, but the others had their eyes locked onto Sanji. "One of everything, please!" The straw hat boy called out without taking a look at the menu you had walked twenty feet in high heels to collect.

"Any drinks?" Your boyfriend offered as he shoved his hands into his pocket, unconsciously looking for his packet of smokes that you knew he couldn't light. You briefly wondered if you should offer him a smoke break to calm him down. "One of our signature cocktails to help you choke down your meal?"

"Giving us the hard sell, huh?" She asked as she slowly lowered her menu and you found it increasingly harder not to smack the blond.

And, as usual, his entire demeanour changed. "Apologies, madam. I didn't see you there. Would you care for an aperitif to start? We have several rare Micqueot vintages in stock. Or perhaps you'd like a glass of Umeshu? You know, something sweet-" He winked. "-for someone sweet."

"Something wrong with your eye?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow.

You cleared your throat. "No, but there is something wrong with his head if he thinks he can flirt with another girl in front of his girlfriend."

That garnered a few giggles, snickers and mock gasps from the table. Sanji chuckled and turned to you. "I hope I'm not in the doghouse tonight?" He pulled you in and gave you a quick kiss on your cheek, but you waved him off.

"We'll see." You shot him a not-so-serious warning look and focused back on the table. "Sorry about that, did I hear you were after some drinks?"

The green-haired male looked you up and down, faint recognition in his eyes as he cleared his throat. "Can I get a beer and something for my friends?"

The pirate-costumed man spoke up. "Two beers. I usually have three, but-"

"And a milk!"

You scribbled down their orders, and Sanji's hand crept around your waist. "Three beers and a milk. And, uh, for madam?"

"Water."

"Still, sparking, mineral? With ice or without? Cubed or crushed?"

You stopped writing and slowly looked up to your boyfriend. "...Taken, Sanji." You reminded him and he stared back at you innocently.

Even the woman leaned back in confusion. "Regular water, in a regular glass. Thanks."

"Right away." He said with a wistful expression, and with the roll of your eyes, you dragged him away before he made a further fool of himself.

AN: Sorry about ending it there, but it was getting WAY too long and I figured it'd be easier to break it up into multiple pieces rather than having one solid chunk of 12k words. Or however long this fic ends up being. I'm actually kinda digging it, so I may continue to write it for a while! Also, I have no idea how old Sanji is meant to be in this universe? According to the internet (and the massive reddit fight I accidentally spawned) it's a tossup between 19 and 26 (OP Sanji's vs the actor's actual age.)

I also hope you appreciate the word-puns. I don't know why but I really enjoy writing them and love to include them in my writing-

[dilfl0v3rss]

can u do a continuation of ‘mini me’ where omari is gone and u and ony finally get to have some alone time 💛

weekend of freedom

continuation of mini me

cw: smut

word count: 4.2k words

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

~friday night~

“you got everything? his ps5, his books, his snacks, his-” “they got it all mama calm down. and even if they didn’t have something i’m sure my little man gon be able to make due wit what he got.” your parents laughed at the small interaction between you and your husband. you’ve had to have brought omari here for at least a hundred weekends since he was born and you still did the same thing. getting all worried as if your parents weren’t doing this for way longer than you.

“i’m a big boy momma. i can handle myself, right dad?” your son looked up at his father for approval which he happily gave. “of course you can peanut your momma jus be overthinkin.” ony chuckled as he wrapped his arm around your waist. “we not gon take any more of your time. see y’all sunday night.” the two of you gave your parents hugs before making your way back to the car. as ony drove home you felt his hand slowly begin to creep up your thigh.

the comfortably silent air was quickly being filled with lust as your husband began rubbing your pussy through your leggings. "you so needy papa. we just dropped our son off." you sighed as ony's ministrations became rougher. "m'always needy when it comes to my fine ass wife. you gon let me play wit you tonight?" the steadiness of your breathing was breaking as you watched his hand slide into your waistband, thick fingers caressing your clit through your underwear.

moans began flying from your mouth, egging your husband on as he continued driving the two of you home. "y'hear me ma? you gon let daddy tear that pussy up when we get to the house?" you choked on your tongue as ony's fingers breached your entrance. fucking you deep as you began to grind your hips down on them. "mm...mhmm" "nah lemme her you speak. repeat what i said baby" his fingers stagnant inside of you. making you whine before letting go of the breath you didn't know you were even holding.

"ima...ima let daddy t-tear this p-pussy up shittt" ony smiled at your obedience. "good fuckin girl" his thick fingers moved quickly, digging deep into you as his thumb caressed your pink pearl. you didn't even notice you were home since your eyes were squeezed shut. all of your focus stuck to the pending orgasm that you were trying to obtain. "cmon baby. i feel it just let it g-....fuckkk there you go mama." ony talked you through your orgasm as you began wetting up his hand as well as the passenger seat with your release.

you shook in overstimulation as his thick fingers continued their movements on your sensitive pussy before he felt that it was time to give you a break. removing his hand from your pants before licking his fingers clean of your juices. brown eyes locked with yours as you watching his pink muscle outstretch under his fingers. arousal already started to pool into your underwear as you listened to the groans that came deep from your husbands chest.

the taste of you causing a tent to form in his hands as he moved his fingers towards your mouth now. watching your small tongue lick and suck what was left of you off of him. "this gon be a long weekend mama."

~the next morning~

you were woken by the smell of french toast. getting out of bed in nothing but ony's tee shirt before slipping on some fuzzy slides and starting your short journey to the kitchen. your husband was focused on cooking, to busy singing lauryn hill to notice you leaning on the kitchen island while staring at the scratches on his broad back. "no matter how i think we grow you always seem to let me know. it aint workinnnnn! it aint wor- FUCK y/n! scared the shit outta me."

you giggled as ony caught his breath, fists up in a fighting stance as he inhaled and exhaled quickly to calm himself down. "sorry boo. you seemed into it and ian wanna mess up your flow." you smiled and he mirrored you. both of you giving each other looks of love before ony turned around to lower to heat on the stove. he turned back to you and slid his hands on your waist.

his hands massaged the fat of your hips while he spoke. "good morning beautiful. you slept good?" morning voice still apparent as he looked down at your curvaceous figure in his tee shirt. "mhmm. slept like a baby, you?" ony ignored you. large hands suddenly gripping your waist before lifting you to sit on the island. you were used to this type of behavior. smiling as he brought his lips to yours. his tongue lightly caressed yours as his hands roamed your back.

the kiss got sloppier the longer the two of you stayed connected. making wetness pool in your panties. at the same time you felt ony's erection begin poking your thigh. before his hands could move, you hopped down from the table. bending to your knees as you pulled his pajama pants down just enough so his dick can spring free. it bobbed up and down, precum dribbling from the tip before you flattened your tongue and licked it up.

"mmm damn girl" a shiver ran down ony's spine as he watched you work. pink tongue swirling around his tip, small hand gripping the base as you repeatedly slapped his dick on your tongue. "you so nasty baby fuck" you took him into your mouth, working your way down until your nose touched his stubble. you continued the action over and over again. sucking him all over before paying more attention to his tip. head bopping as your hands worked his shaft.

"ohmygoddd" ony's grip on the edge of the table was tight, knuckles almost turning white as he tried to refrain from bucking into your mouth. he was trying to be good for you, but once he felt your fingers being caressing the flesh of his balls he lost it. "w-where you want it mama. f-fuck ima cum. im boutta fucking cum." your eyes shot up to his face. brows furrowed as his eyes were rolling in pleasure. his arms were flexing so hard that you could see his veins protruding from his bicep.

you kept sucking. head bobbing faster as you sucked even harder on his tip. your other hand gave his balls an occasional squeeze as ony moaned professions of love to you from above. "ooouuu fuck y/n i love you so much....make me wanna give you another baby....make me wanna...fuck ion even know i just wanna give you everything." you felt him twitch in your mouth, signaling to you he was going to cum. you released his dick with a pop as you stroked him quickly with one hand.

"don't want nun but your cum right now daddy. can you give me that?" his head nodded quickly, eyes still squeezed shut as ony threw his head back. "look at me baby. wanna see you." you moaned, hungry to see his reaction. the two of you locked eyes as you began squeezing him tighter. pink tongue lolled out of your mouth as you waited for his release. ony watched as his cum coated your cheeks, painting your face before you angled him just right. letting his kids slide down your tongue before disappearing down your throat.

"thank you daddy" you looked like a beautiful mess. cum sliding down your cheeks as you ony lifted you off the ground. hands on your ass as he kissed you deeply on the lips. "you always make me feel so good." a moan flew from your mouth as you felt his still hard dick slide fully into your soaked pussy. "my turn now mama.”

~that night~

"my jumper so tuff these niggas really can't guard me" ony yelled into his mic as he played 2k with connie. this was not how your night was supposed to be going. it was your last night of freedom before your beautiful bundle of joy came back tomorrow night and your husband was wasting it on a video game. "he's shitty look at his handlessss. con why you always got me online wit trashh?" you heard connies chuckles through his not so quiet headset.

"man fuck these bums where my nephew at?" ony massaged your feet as they laid on his lap. "he wit his nana and pop pop. me and the misses needed some time alone." you rolled your eyes. he talking about needing time alone with you, but on the game with connie. how that work? you started rubbing your feet on his lap, lightly grazing his print a couple of times before your movements were halted by his strong hand.

"one more game mama" he mouthed to you for the umpteenth time tonight. you believed it the first couple of times, but at this point you new it was complete bullshit. if you wanted attention you were going to have to take it. you quietly walked to your room, smiling to yourself as you looked in your closet for the purple lingerie set he bought you last week. it was about time you put that cart to good use. after you slipped the purple fabric on your brown skin you went towards ony's dresser.

his top drawer was designated for the 'supplies' you sometimes used during sex. you instantly reached for the black fuzzy cuffs before looking at some of the other new items delivered from your cart. "ill save em for another day." you thought before hopping into bed and grabbing your phone. you snapped picture after picture. posing in different positions that you knew he'd love while also taking some that'll leave him begging for more.

the last one being of you sitting on your knees. camera only showing you from the neck down as the cuffs laid in between your thick thighs. you sent all of the pictures, giving him a little message at the end. meanwhile, ony was still on the game. cursing and laughing with connie until he seen your name pop of on his screen.

baby muva💍

attachment: 5 images

your husband mindlessly opened your message, jaw dropping as he looked at each of the seductive pictures. "god damn" he mumbled, not noticing that his mic was still on while he kept talking about how beautiful your body looked. "look at that ass" before he could speak again, another message popped up from you.

baby muva💍

come play💜

ony ignored the sentences of confusion connie was throwing his way, cutting his game short so he can get to you. "man if you over there fucking while we supposed to be playing the game ima throw the fuck u-" "man i gotta go" "wha-" and with that your husband turned off his playstation completely before quickly making his way to the room. dick already hard and throbbing in his sweats as he opened the door to see you laying in the bed in all your glory.

ass on full display as you laid facing away from him while quietly playing with the fur of the cuffs in your hands. before his hand could caress the flesh of your ass you slowly began to turn around. sitting on your knees at the edge of the bed as you looked up at your man. "this what you want mama?" his deep voice caused a shiver to run down your spine as your pussy pooled with slick. you nodded your head, lifting the cuffs in your hands for him to take.

"unt uh pretty talk t'me. is this what you want?" the confidence from earlier seeping out of you as you looked down at your knees. "y-yea" ony smiled at your shyness. no matter how bold you are in the messages or how long the two of you have been together, he can always bring you back to the shy girl you were when he first met you. "okay...lay on your back f'me" your body moved instantly, following his command as if it was second nature. on instinct, your legs were spread as you watched ony remove his sweatpants.

he was already fully hard from your pictures and the sight of his thick print raised your arousal towards him. his briefs were stretched at the crotch due to his girthy dick fighting the restraining fabric. he bent down, face so close to your core that you could feel every breath he took. "gimme your hands baby" he had his hands open at your sides, but you didn't notice this while you put your hands in between your legs, eager to be bound by the cuffs. ony chuckled at your excitement, moving each of your hands to your hips where he held them in his.

"not yet you little freak" your eyes wandered to the ceiling as embarrassment made it's way into your mind. the feeling quickly being pushed out by pleasure as his long tongue licked a stripe up your pussy through your panties. your arms moved on instinct to rub his head at the pleasure, but they were stuck to the bed by ony's much longer ones. "hold still f'me mama. let daddy make you feel good" with that he began sloppily making out with your pussy through your panties.

the roughness of the fabric stimulated your clit as ony nodded his head up and down. "aaaughh fuck fuckkk" you cursed into the air as your back arched off the bed. you husband became impatient, quickly letting go of your hands before ripping your brand new lingerie at the crotch. you looked at him in annoyance, but his next words shut you up completely. "i bought it. i can rip it if i want." with that he quickly attached his lips to your clit. sucking on the bud as he fingered you with two of his this fingers.

middle and index fingers digging deep into you as his tongue danced over your clit. your hands flew two his head. caressing him through his suede durag as you bucked your hips up into his mouth. you were so needy for him and it only fueled him to lick you faster, fingers hitting that spongy spot inside of you. "o-ohh....oh my god baby pleaseee" you began to grind your pussy onto his handsome face. hands moving his head deeper onto your clit as you rubbed up and down his face.

ony let you use him, watching you through his lashed as your head flew back. you were going to cum soon, but he wanted you to wait. he wanted you to be a good girl and only cum on his dick tonight. so he did what any other good husband would do when their wife was on the edge of release, he moved. pretty brow eyes slowly opening as you whined at his behavior. "n-nooo m'close daddy. so close" you moaned, but your pleading fell on deaf ears. his hand outstretched onto your hip before turning you on your stomach.

you immediately got into your arch as you waited for the sting go his dick. "hands mama" you held your hands behind your back, letting your husband bound your wrists with the cuffs before giving your ass a light slap. "you ready?" you wiggled your ass, juices dripping from your pussy to the bed as you gave him a show. "yeaaa. you ready" ony pulled his dick from his briefs, slowly sinking his tip into your tight entrance. you mewled at the girth of him as he kept sliding into you until his hips met your ass. he grinded his hips in circles inside of you, making your hands open as you outstretched your arm to push him out.

his hands quickly grabbed the chain of the cuffs, pinning your hands to your back as he began pounding you into the mattress. "you can take it. my good girl always takes it, right?" the air was filled with moans from your mouth and wet slaps from your reconnecting bodies. the sting quickly being replaced with pleasure as you poked your ass out for you to take more of him. ony smirked as he figured now would be the good time to pull a little out. he fucked you with half of his dick, purposely stopping right in front of your g spot so you couldn't get the stimulation you desired.

"d-daddy pleaseee. i want ittt" you whined as you tried to fuck your hips back onto him, yearning for the much needed release. "you want it ma?" you continued to move your hips onto him, but he just kept moving further and further away from where you needed him most. "mhmm want it s-so bad" ony loved when you whined for him. he could almost feel your tears falling onto the sheets as you continued your desperate movements. he continued his teasing for a couple more minutes before giving you one big thrust.

dick kissing your cervix as he stayed stagnant inside of you. the moan that flew from your mouth was pornographic as ony started roughly thrusting into you. using his grip on your cuffs to keep pulling you back onto his dick. he fed you deep strokes as he watched you constantly clench and unclench your fists. "aauughhh o-o-ohhh daddy yesss" you screamed as you felt ony angle his hips downwards. dick deep in your tummy as you continued throwing it back for him. meeting his hips on every thrust to make him feel just as good as you.

"such a good girl. takin this dick like i know you can" his praise went straight to your core, making you gush all over his dick. your added wetness pushed your husband closer to his orgasm as he watched your ass constantly bounce on his abdomen. "feel so good papa. wanna have your baby." a smirk crept onto his face at your words. "want daddy t'give you another baby? want another little rugrat running around in here? maybe this time ill give you that daughter you been dreaming about huh?"

ony continued speaking of the family he knew you wanted. a bunch of kids running around while the two of you lived happily ever after. just the thought of it made him want to cum deep inside of you even more. "daddy gon give you that baby...jus try to take it okay?" you nodded your head in compliance, not really knowing what you were getting yourself into. ony held both of your cuffed hands in one of his. "just squeeze my hand mama"

you didn't get the chance to speak before he took is other hand and pushed your back down, thrusting into you so deep that you felt a the bulge in your stomach lightly brush against your sheets. he put so much strength behind his thrust that your body would've been inching up the bed from the force if he weren't holding your hands. "ohmygod ohmygod ohmygo-oddd" your hands held a death grip onto his much larger one. trying your best to keep yourself from screaming from the top of your lungs.

"throw dat shit back mama. work for dis nut" you tried your best to obey his command as he still had his hand pushed down on your back. you gave his palm a tight squeeze before you tried fucking him back. loud slaps ricocheted off the walls are the two of you worked together for your orgasms. ony felt your walls begin to clench tighter around him, signaling to him that you were about to cum. "uhh huh. i feel it...let daddy have it baby." you shook under him as your orgasm rolled through you, thick cream surrounding his base as you tried to slump your body on the bed.

"ian finish yet pretty. just a little more and we done aight?" you were too in a daze to understand, but the feeling of his dick pulling out against your sensitive walls made you whine into the mattress. "it's t-to much da" "no no no no. s'never too much for my baby. you can take just a little more, can't you ma?....for me?" every time ony used his soft voice with you, any defiance you had would drift away. and that is exactly what was happening now. he smiled as he watched you kept your arch for him.

hands squeezed around his tightly as you put your pussy on full display for him to finish. "d-dont be too r-rough okay?" your husband took your plea into consideration before sitting with his back against the headboard. he helped you maneuver yourself on top of him, pretty brown eyes facing his chest before he slipped himself back inside of you. "cmon mama. ride this dick f'me" he kept on hand on your cuffs behind you to keep you from falling forward, before bouncing you on to him a couple times with his other hand. "just a little more baby. help daddy feel good"

you eventually took control and started bouncing on your own, snatching groans from him as you matched him with whiney moans. "so sexy mama" ony watched your perky brown breasts move with every bounce, his fingers running along your tattooed chest. pretty red ink being smoothly caressed by the name it spelled. you were a sight, but so was he. much more inked chest breathing heavily as you looked at the different pieces of art that represented you and your little family. your name on his left pec as your sons name sat on his shoulder. "i love you" you mindlessly moaned out.

ony chuckled at your fucked out state, watching your eyes lose focus every once in awhile while you fucked yourself dumb on his big dick. "and i love you, my beautiful wife" your release was on the tip of your tongue. ass bouncing with more energy as you chased your pending orgasm. ony fucked you back from below, feeling that same edge you do as he latched his mouth onto your nipple. groaning at the taste of you as he held your hip and grinded you down onto his dick. "o-oh fuck m'cumin daddy" your release poured out of you, cream trickling down your husbands dick as you threw your head back in ecstasy. drool pooling past your lips as it dribbled down onto the sheets. your cum worked as an extra lubricant as ony's dick slid in and out of you at a quick pace.

"m'here mama. fuck m'cumin." his orgasm came quickly, hot spurts of cum shooting deep into your walls as he gave you one final hard thrust. your mouth opened in a silent moan as you felt his warm seed travel through you before spilling out after he pulled out. ony removed the cuffs from your wrists before lightly laying you on the bed. he knew you didn't have any energy to move, so he removed your lingerie for you and replaced it with his shirt before tucking you into bed. "gon head to sleep pretty i’ll clean all this up." and with that you dozed off to sleep.

~sunday~

when you woke up you immediately felt your lower half screaming as you got up to go pee. the limp in your walk made ony snicker from the couch, book in hand as his glasses hung low on his nose. your eyes shot to his face, giving him a mean mug that caused him to quickly turn back to his book. you finished your business in the restroom before limping your way to the couch. plopping next to your husband before leaning your head onto his lap. "slept good?" he mumbled. "like a baby" you replied. the two of you sat in a comfortable silence until his phone began to ring.

"hello?....good morning momma everything good over there?...yea of course i can get em a little early...mhmm....aight im getting ready now." ony wasted no time lifting you up and brining you back to bed before going to the closet for a hoodie to throw on. "gotta get my mini me from your moms crib. said he miss his mommy." you went to take the blanket off of you so you can get dressed, but ony stopped you. "rest mama. daddy got it." his deep voice sat you right back down before he gave you a sloppy kiss on the lips.

hand lightly squeezing your neck before he disconnected his lips from yours. "behave in here while m'gone. don't want you leaving this bed until you've properly rested, you heard?" you nodded your head before your husband gave you another quick kiss before heading out the door.

it didn't take long for him to return with your son. the both of them walking into your room together. "mommyyyy!!" omari's face lit up before he ran towards your side of the bed and gave you a tight hug. "missed you momma" he mumbled into your chest as you rubbed the back of his durag covered head. why did this boy act so much like his dad? "missed you more baby m'glad you're finally home." ony gave you a kiss on the forehead before omari started talking again. "dad told me about how you hurt your leg so i don't want you to get out of bed either okay?"

you give your husband a pointed look, his eyes wandering around to the room as he rubbed the back of his neck. guilty. "okay baby. how about you go unpack your bag and get yourself situated." omari nodded before exiting the room. leaving you there to lecture your loud mouthed lover. "now why-" "because ion want you leaving the bed, and now neither do he. now gimme a kiss so i can go play video games wit my son." his lips puckered in front of yours, eyes closed like a child as he waited for you to kiss him back.

you rolled your eyes, eventually giving in and giving your husband a loving kiss before he turned around to go check on his twin. "love you mama, check your drawer" and with that he left the room. confusion showed on your face as you raised your eyebrows at your bedside drawer. what could be in there? as you opened it you were shocked to see two things. a plan b pill and a pregnancy test. each covered with a sticky note. one reading 'maybe later on' while the other read 'im ready to try'.

you sat in your bed holding both boxes before putting one back in the drawer. you knew you had to wait a couple weeks before you could truly know, but something in your gut told you that this was the right decision. you were ready to try.

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (2/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The first breakfast together is a good idea to get to know each other better. And to make the first arrangements. And to cheer each other up.

Warnings: google translated French, mention of "nice guys"

Word Count: 3.4k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: part two my loves! please tell me if you liked it!

Back when you went to school, you always woke up to the cooing of the pigeons that lived in the tree outside your childhood bedroom. They announced the new day, which was filled with learning, friends and fun. True, the time of your graduation had been incredibly exhausting, but in all the summers that followed, you woke up in the morning to the same sound and nostalgia felt like an old friend.

But now it's mid December. There are no birds outside whose chirping might wake you in the morning. And yet you've been lying awake in your bed for an hour.

All night you've been thinking. Charles apparently didn't try to break into the bedroom to kill you. You haven't heard any strange noises all night. But deep sleep was still out of the question with a complete stranger sleeping on the couch one room over. He did seem nice last night - after you had talked things out halfway - but the "nice guys" are also the worst in the end. 

After all, you had to experience that firsthand. 

Hands clasped behind your head, you stare at the white ceiling of your room. Your cell phone is lying next to your pillow. Some time ago, you lost it somewhere in your bedspread, and when you had to shake it out, the phone flew into the nearest wall. Since then it has its permanent place near your head.

A quick glance at it tells you that Charles will theoretically be asleep for just under two more hours - if you can believe him. Normally, you'd be getting ready for work right now and eating breakfast. Maybe you'd fry up some fried eggs or make some yogurt with berries. And then you'd go to work in peace.

Frustrated, you put your forearms over your face.

Right after you woke up, you googled for new job openings, but except for a new dog-sitter job posting, there doesn't seem to be anything new. Nothing at all. If the job were advertised with a reasonable salary that would allow you to continue financing your life in Monaco, you'd think twice about applying.

Finding a job that suits you, is fun, and pays a good salary is incredibly difficult. Almost impossible. When you were younger, you once saw a picture of a triangle on the internet. One corner said "friends," the second said "good grades," and the third said "sleep." The caption read "You can only choose two." That's exactly how job hunting feels.

You wouldn't tell Charles about it. Your unemployment, like his affairs, is private. If he asks, you'll simply say you're off because the company requires its employees to take vacation days in December. Doesn't sound convincing, but at least it doesn't completely suck.

Oh God, hopefully he won't ask.

As your stomach speaks up with an almost embarrassingly loud bubbling sound, you can no longer suppress your hunger. You slip out of bed and change from your sleep outfit - a big shirt and comfy sports shorts - into a pair of jeans and a comfy sweater before quietly turning the key in the door lock.

The rest of the apartment is silent. You sneak into the bathroom on your socks to brush your teeth and quickly comb your hair. As you slip on your shoes at the front door, you glance toward the couch to make sure you weren't dreaming last night.

The fact that a stranger is suddenly standing in your apartment, claiming that it is his apartment, sounds very far-fetched. And that he then spontaneously starts cooking sounds even more implausible. 

But you didn't imagine it. Charles is lying with his back turned to you between the pillows, the blanket tangled between his legs. He seems to be sound asleep, because when you open the apartment door, he doesn't move a bit. 

After taking a good look at the dog-sitting job this morning - two cute dachshunds, Hubert and Guenther - you had drawn up a chart of the things your new roommate and you would need to discuss.

Cleaning the apartment, for example. Since you'd still be staying in the bedroom, you'd obviously keep the room clean. Maybe you could also clear out a drawer in the dresser for Charles to put some of his things in, so he doesn't have to live out of a suitcase. But it's definitely too early for that. After all, you've only known each other since yesterday.

Although the morning has just begun, the sun is shining pleasantly warm as you walk to the nearest bakery. Having breakfast together definitely can't hurt if you plan to get to know each other better so that your shared apartment can function well. As long as Charles doesn't kill you and gets a little involved as far as organization goes, you'll be fine. Last night he already said that there are some things that need to be discussed today. And as long as the organization and in the end also the execution is not only dependent on you, the ship will probably not sink. 

Marie, the incredibly nice saleswoman who gives you a small, free piece of cake every Saturday, bags you two pain au chocolat and two croissants before you pay and she wishes you a nice day. While you don't know what Charles likes to eat for breakfast - if he eats breakfast at all - you're certainly not barking up the wrong tree with the pastries. Besides, breakfast isn't just about getting to know each other better and getting some structure, but you'd also like to apologize. For being willing to hit him over the head with the newspaper.

You quietly enter the apartment, only to find that Charles is already awake despite the time - 8:13 a.m. He's sitting on the couch with his elbows on his knees, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as you close the door behind you. His brown hair is sticking up from his head, and he wearily runs a hand through his strands before looking at you.

"Bonjour." His voice seems to have dropped an octave since last night, and it's rougher than yesterday, too, which is probably due to waking up. His gaze moves from your face to the bags in your hand. "Petit déjeuner?" Breakfast. You nod. "Pour nous deux?" For both of us? Again, you nod. Charles closes his eyes briefly before rising from the couch. "Give me a moment. Be right back."

While he's in the bathroom, you put two plates on the dining room table and add everything that could be used for a good breakfast. You quickly rinse the dishes Charles put in the sink yesterday and put them away. 

When your new roommate rejoins you, he looks more awake. He sits down across from you at the table and reaches for a bag. As he grabs a croissant, he looks briefly surprised, but you're too distracted by the pillow print on his cheek to notice. 

"How did you sleep?" he asks as you take a bite of your pain au chocolat. 

You swallow. What are you supposed to answer him? That you slept fitfully all night, afraid he might be a murderer after all? Would be a great topic of conversation to start the day. 

"I don't know," you answer neutrally. Charles tilts his head. "I mean, it was kind of weird knowing that someone completely foreign was sleeping just one room over."

"I'll bet." His smile is faint, but genuine. Little dimples bore into his cheeks. "Maybe we should make sure we're not particularly strangers to each other then. After all, we'll be living here together for quite some time. And I'd hate to be responsible for you not getting a decent night's sleep."

"It's okay," you answer him. "I haven't slept properly in ages."

"I'm always told that a good night's sleep is important. That's why mine is sacred to me." He rubs his free hand over the dark stubble on his chin. "Besides, it's not healthy not to sleep soundly. From that point of view, it's worth a try to me. And I'd hate to be responsible for your poor sleep. 

Most of all, you'd like to tell him that while his presence unsettled you last night, he's not the reason you can't rest, or sleep through the night. That he's not responsible for you falling asleep late and waking up early. But you don't. Because it's none of his business.

"While we're on the subject -" you put your pain au chocolat on the plate in front of you, "why are you up already? Did I wake you up? I swear I was trying to be really quiet, but -"

"I got a call," he says curtly. "Until you were standing in the doorway, I didn't even know you were gone. So, everything's cool." The smile is gone from his face. Apparently, his caller is just as popular as the one you pushed away last night. Or maybe he's just tired.

Since it's none of your business, you try to distract him. "So, Charles. How about it? What else is in you besides being able to cook? What do I need to know about you?"

Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc turned twenty-five in October, born and raised in Monaco. He has two brothers, one of whom is older than him and the other younger. He speaks English, French and Italian and does a lot of sports. He likes to eat pasta, but his nutritionist - who the heck has a nutritionist? Someone who can afford to have a second home in Monaco, of course - always advises him against it. 

He also travels a lot for work reasons. On his cell phone he has a lot of photos that he has taken in different countries and to be honest, you are already a little envious. Except for your home country and Monaco, you've never been anywhere else. What would you give to be able to travel so much? A dream that will probably remain denied to you, if your bank balance is to be trusted.

Some of the photos, he confesses, were taken by Joris - your Joris. You knew Joris was also a photographer by trade, and judging from the pictures, he's incredibly good at what he does. Apparently, the two of them travel together more often. Either the two are best friends or Joris is Charles' personal photographer. Or both. 

He won't tell you exactly what the Monegasque does for a living, though. "Something with cars," is his answer, and since you have relatively little idea about it, it's quite enough for you. He tells you a lot about himself, and you secretly hope that the information he gets from you will be enough for him, and that he will please not ask about your job.

But there you are mistaken.

"So what do you do for a living?"

The pastries are eaten so you crumple up the bags and throw them in the trash can. You stand up, and as you turn your back on Charles, your face contorts briefly. "I'm a photographer."

You hear Charles rise from his chair as well, stacking the plates. You barely noticeably flinch as he suddenly stands next to you. "And who do you work for?" He places the plates in the empty sink, grabs the sponge and detergent, and begins washing the dishes.

"For a small magazine, nothing wild," you reply curtly, drying the clean plate Charles holds out to you with his foam soaked fingers. It clanks as you put it in the cupboard with the others. 

"For that one?" He points with a nod to the magazine lying on the small coffee table. Of course, it's the one you threatened him with yesterday. A wide grin spreads across his face as you roll your eyes. 

"Sorry," you apologize, but are secretly glad for the opportunity to change the subject. "What would you do if someone strange suddenly showed up at your apartment?"

"I'd probably threaten to call the police." You don't know how that's possible, but his grin gets even wider and his dimples even deeper.

You have to grin. "Ah, so we're joking about that now? That I was standing there all scared, armed only with a magazine?"

Charles' gaze is amused, but gentle. The green in his eyes sparkles as he looks at you. "Just wrapped in a towel, not to mention. But I'm sure you would have kicked my ass."

Charles stows his bedding in the hall closet while you wipe down the table to clean up the last remnants of your first breakfast together. After fluffing the couch cushions, he sits down and pulls his laptop from his backpack. Stretching out his legs, he gestures for you to join him. 

"So," he begins as you sit down at the other end of the couch. You pull your knees to your chest as he waits for you to get comfortable. There are only a few inches between your feet. "I couldn't sleep last night, so I've been thinking about all the things that come up when you have a roommate." He looks up from his laptop for a moment. "Well, actually, I was just Googling."

You're pleasantly surprised that he actually thought about it. And apparently, not just a bit. He's even created an Excel spreadsheet, with weekly plans, tasks, and a financial overview, as far as grocery shopping goes. He included every little detail in his lists. 

Very dedicated, the young man in front of you. 

"We're summarizing." Charles stretches out his arms and folds his hands behind his head. You've spent an hour talking everything out, going over several possibilities, and finally you've come to a common denominator.

"Since you live in the bedroom, it's also your job to keep the room clean." That was the easiest point. "And that's why it's up to me to clean the living room. The bathroom gets cleaned weekly, on a rotating basis. Since you just cleaned it recently, it's my turn next week."

You come to an agreement that you will buy groceries from the money in the joint household fund - a small cookie jar where you actually stored sewing supplies - and he will cook instead. Since you're more of a frozen pizza kind of person and his nutritionist sends him a weekly meal plan, Charles also wants to put more money into the household fund. The fact that you benefit from both the meal plan and his generosity doesn't seem to bother him.

"That settles the organizational stuff," he finishes, setting his laptop aside. "But we should establish other rules. For the interpersonal stuff."

You tilt your head and raise an eyebrow. "Interpersonal?"

"Yup." He stretches again, and his white shirt slides up a little so you can see a strip of skin from his belly. You quickly look away. "Communication and stuff. So if something's bothering you, please tell me." Charles crosses his arms in front of his chest, his shirt straining over his biceps. "I don't feel like having to ask five times to get you to finally come clean. My patience is definitely too thin for that."

Understandable. Your patience is not quite that thin, but when someone doesn't speak up and then acts passive-aggressively, that's a no-go for you, too. 

"Open communication. Got it." You cross your arms in front of your chest as well. "But then please give me a heads up if you're bringing someone home with you. I don't want to come home at some point and be left in just a towel again. And if you do bring girls, I'll stay the night somewhere else." With his looks, you wouldn't be surprised if he didn't have at least five women wrapped around his little finger. Maybe you're crossing a line with the request, but if this whole thing is going to work out, it should be cleared up.

The smile that just now had a firm place on his face disappears. "Don't worry. It's not going to happen."

Apparently you have crossed a line, or rather hit a sore spot. All of a sudden Charles seems tense, the relaxed atmosphere seems to be lost and you would love to take it all back and apologize, but your roommate is faster.

"I don't think we need to talk about privacy. Everyone has their own stuff to deal with. If someone wants to talk about it voluntarily, that's fine, but no one is being pressured into anything here." You nod silently. "And I think honesty is important. I experience so much dishonesty in my job and it makes life so much more difficult and stressful. Just be honest with me, no matter what, and I promise I'll be honest with you, too. No matter what it's about."

The topic of unemployment pops into your head, but disappears again as Charles scoots closer to you on the couch and sits up straight. "We'll work it out. As long as you promise not to murder me in my sleep. After all, I don't have the option of locking myself in a room." His smile has returned to his face. It's faint, but at least it's there. 

"You caught that?" you ask, biting your lower lip.

"Like I said, the walls aren't very thick. But I don't blame you." He winks at you. "But I hope I'm not a complete stranger to you now."

He's actually not. True, you haven't talked about much personal stuff yet, but that's sure to come with time. Or maybe it won't. Sharing an apartment doesn't necessarily mean you'll become best friends. And that would be fine, too.

"I'll think twice about locking the door tonight," you quip, and his smile widens. It's so infectious that you follow suit.

"All right. I think we can work this out. I haven't drawn up a roommate agreement now, but we're both adults. We'll stick to the agreements and if one of us thinks of anything else, we'll talk it over and work it out." He holds out his hand for you to shake. "Deal?"

You hold out your hand as well, but before you can shake his, the cell phone in your pocket rings. You pull it out and when you see who's calling you, your smile vanishes in a millisecond.

Why is he calling you? Hasn't he humiliated you enough? Embarrassed you? Made you the joke of your - former - friend group? What does he want from you now?

You press the call away and, frustrated, toss the cell phone between you on the couch and rub your hands over your face. You don't notice that Charles has caught on to the situation until he speaks up.

"Are you busy now?" As you look at him, he's still smiling, but a little softer. His smile doesn't reach his ears now, but the green in his eyes gleams nonetheless. 

You exhale loudly. You're out of a job. What could you possibly be up to? "No. Why?"

Charles gets up from the couch. "Then let's do something. I know a really good lookout point. You can see all of Monaco from there."

Whether he actually feels like doing something with you, or is suggesting it out of pity, you don't know. But maybe Charles deserves a little benefit of the doubt. And you definitely don't feel like sitting around on the couch waiting for anything to happen.

"Come on, Y/N," he tries to coax you out of your shell.

"Are you going to take me to a secluded place to kill me? Or are you really going to show me a nice lookout point?" You stand up so that you are facing each other. You have to tilt your head back a little to look him in the eyes.

Charles looks down at you. "Do you really think I'd kill you now, after we've spent ages discussing our shared apartment? Wouldn't that be wasted energy?" He rolls his eyes playfully. "Give yourself a break."

"Fine," you reply to him. You raise your hand and point your index finger at him. "But if that lookout isn't the most beautiful I've ever seen, I may kill you."

Charles laughs. He almost closes his eyes at that. The sound is so heartfelt you have to grin.

"Deal."

next part

[gardengirl222]

husband!rafe and your kids attempt to prepare you a mother's day surprise! 💐

rafe sets down your daughter so she's sitting on the table after helping her put up some pastel ribbons, hearts and banners for decoration so he can walk over and check on the pancakes your son was in charge of.

"hey bud, those pancakes are lookin' a little...come on dude" he looms over the boy and put his hand on top of the little backwards baseball cap over your sons head. 

"it's supposed to be mickey mouse!"

"well it looks like a sad bear...think mom will think they're cute?" rafe makes a face and turns his head to see more of the "sad bears" already on a plate.

"what do i know!?" your son shrugs and drops a few more chocolate chips onto the cooking pancake.

"ehh s'alright we'll just cover'em in syrup, whipped cream or something" rafe reasons with himself when your son arm swings back after trying to flip like a chef, ironically the most decent looking pancake flies to the opposite wall and splat! its ruined. 

"aw man!" your son whines and rafe gasps dramatically. "careful!! jesus!!" he rushes over to clean the mess on the wall when your daughter screams and points to the oven. both rafe and your son's heads turn quickly to where she's pointing. "what? what's wrong baby?" rafe asks all panicked.

"dad! the oven!" your son backs away from the pancakes as the oven pours out black smoke, the french toast on fire. "what is that!?" your son furrows his eyebrows and runs to open a window. "its the french toast- or it was." rafe's face hardens in concentration, hoping the fire alarm wouldn't go off and wake you up, he grabs a towel to start to "put out the fire" or "cool it down" but that just makes the fire worse causing the alarm to ring. your daughters hands fly to cover her ears as she sits there watching, your son grabs the water in the glass jar on the table and hands it to rafe who splashes it on the flaming french toast. 

"what's going on!?" you walk into the kitchen in you nightgown, picking up your daughter and holding her on your hip. the alarm still ringing, you turn your head to see your son stood on a chair trying to get the smoke away from the alarm to get it to stop. "go back to bed mama! everything's fine!" rafe shouts over the ringing and closes the oven quickly, he takes your daughter into his arms so he can shoo you away. 

"kay guys, what do'we got?" rafe sighs after sorta cleaning up the mess and sits on the table with his kids. "we've still got the pancakes." your son points to the now broken plate with ruined pancakes due to the commotion earlier. 

"uh nah bud, we've gotta scrap that." 

"i have bubblegum grampa gave me for easter!" you daughter lights up as she offers. "no princess, you keep your bubblegum, we'll think of something else." rafe smile and smooths his hand over her messy baby hairs.

"well there's vanilla ice cream in the freezer and at least a few chip's ahoys in the pink jar." you son's eyebrows shoot up at the realization. "and strawberry wafers above the fridge." the boy points to where the wafers where supposed to be hidden. 

"right, that works..." rafe smiles and picks up your baby girl to place on his hip and give a bunch of kisses to. 

"oh my goodness! whats this!" you smile brightly sitting in your bed, pausing the movie you were watching as you see your little family come through the door, your daughter runs up to your side and hands you a card she made with glitter and lace. "thank you baby this is very sweet." you place the card against your heart momentarily, rafe walks up and places a silver tray on your lap with little scoops of ice cream, wafers and cookies. "happy mothers day mama" rafe smiles, quite proud of the little breakfast they managed to come up with last minute. 

"thank you baby" you continue to smile, reaching your hand out to place on rafe's cheek as he bends down to give you a kiss. "there's more ice cream if you want s'more after, happy mother's day!" your son says smiling showing all his teeth and handing you a bouquet of casablanca lilies and a few of his baseball cards that he considers presents, you giggle and reach over to embrace him as well.

"s'very nice of you guys, so many beautiful mother's day presents!" you tell your kids.

"its not over yet, i've got s'more gifts for you in the living room." rafe grins and hands you a spoon for the ice cream. "i love you do you know that?" he asks and you nod.

"i do, and i love you, all of you guys very much. what happened in the kitchen earlier? everything okay?" 

"i just wanna say again, i love you so very much." rafe smiles innocently ❤️

i wanna marry himmm

[imaginaryf1shots]

My Girls (IX)

Words count: 1K

Driver!OC x Max Verstappen

Summery: Cecilia Hansson daughter of a Swedish billionaire, a race car driver, with a dream of making it big in Formula 1. However she has a few secrets that may hurt her as women are disliked in the sport.

Series Warnings: google translated french, dutch, cursing, child abandment, absent father, drinking, car accidents, Jos Verstappen, misogyny, Christian horner (tell me if i missed anything)

This is a secondary blog so I won't be able to respond but I'm adding you all to the taglist.

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DADDY

2022

In French

It's well established that Nathalie LOVES Max, after her mother she loves him the most. Now the girl was old enough to realise that Max came into her life after she was born and that he isn't her dad. As she's been told to call him Max(indirectly), by everyone, even Max. But three years in his relationship with Cecilia and with two years of living together Max became a very important part of her life. Nathalie doesn’t remember life before Max, she got so used to him that when he and Cecilia are away she misses him as much as he misses her mum.

"Maman." The young girl of 6 whispers as her mum sat on her bed reading her a story. Cecilia looked up hearing the timid tone in her daughter’s voice, Nattie showed her usual telltale of being nervous, she was playing/fidgeting with a plushy that Max won for her in an amusement park and she was avoiding eye contact.

"What is it, mon ange?" Cecilia asked and gently brushed Natties hair out of her face.

"Max-Max isn't my dad right?" A few things came into Cecilia’s mind, first Nathalie is speaking in French, which Max knows a bit but it isn't his strongest language, and she certainly wasn't expecting this, she stopped from answering right away thinking it over, she was trying to think where this came from. It's never been a secret that he isn't, biologically at least and she thought that Nattie understood that.

"No he isn't my love, why are you asking?" Cecilia's mind ran a 1000 times an hour thinking everything over. "Did someone say anything?"

"Not really." Nattie shook her head before she pouted and stopped playing/fidgeting with her plushie, her blue eyes meeting her mother's. "Don't dad's drop their kids off at school?"

"Sometimes, they do." Cecilia had no idea where this was going.

"They play with their kids."

"Yes."

"They buy them things."

"Yeah."

"They go swimming?"

"Uh-huh."

"They teach them how to cart and how to do things?"

"Yeah."

"And they cook them breakfast and help them brush their teeth and pick their clothes."

"They do my love, why are you asking all this?"

"Well Max does all this, doesn't that mean he's my dad?" Cecilia's heart broke for her little girl, she grew up in a loving family with both her parents together. She can't imagine what Nattie is feeling, some part of her feels guilty. Should she have talked to her and explained everything that has to do with her bio dad? Nevertheless she's forever glad for Max for filling that part in Natties life. He does treat her like a dad would, he’s so selfless taking her in like his own despite being in his early twenties at the time and just giving her pure unconditional love, his family taking her in as their own.

“Do you want him to be your dad?” Cecilia softly asks and she leans down so she’s able to meet Nathalie’s eyes, Nattie shyly nods, Cecilia smiles reassuringly. Her and Max haven't talked about the possibility of him being Natties dad but he had the question on the tip of his tongue a few times, she could tell each time but didn't want to pressure him into asking, she thought he'd eventually ask her but it looks like her impatient daughter beat him to it first. “Do you want to ask him?”

“Yes.” Nattie whispers, she looks nervous but Cecilia knows that that’s what Nattie has been after all along, she wants her mother to confirm that it’s okay to ask Max to be her dad, that her feelings are correct, she hasn’t been reading into it too much.

“Do you want to ask him now?” Max was in their shared bedroom getting ready for bed last she left him, with one last nod from Nattie, both of them left Nathalie’s bedroom and crossed the hallway to the master bedroom the drivers shared. walking in Max was already in bed, he had his back to the headboard looking at something on his phone with the lights dimmed. Nathalie races to the bed and gets on before she crawls up the bed to where Max is.

“Hey there, schatje, I thought you were going to sleep.” Max asks and opens his arms for the girl who instantly snuggles into his side, after she gets under the covers. “Do you want to stay with Mummy today?”

“No.” Nathalie says with a small smile.

“No?” Max is amused yet a tad bit confused, Nathalie rarely sleeps with Cecilia now, when she was younger she would sleep with them every once and a while but since they moved in together it became less and less now.

“I want to sleep with daddy.” Cheeky, Cecilia thought, Nathalie looked like she would be too scared to ask before they came in the room but look at her now. Max looked at Cecilia with wide eyes, she was standing just in the room, she was grinning at her boyfriend, who looked surprised. Max then turned to look at Nathalie who was nervous.

“What did you call me?” Max had to be sure, he could be too tired, he could have misheard, this could be a mistake, a slip of the tongue.

“Daddy.” She whispered again, Max pulled her on his lap and just hugged her, her face his in his neck as she wrapped her arms around his shoulder.

“You want me to be your dad?” Max asked, his voice wavering, it’s rare to see Max this emotional, but his voice is heavy as he asked Nattie.

“Yeah, can you be my dad… please?” Nattie asked both Max and Cecilia could tell that the girl is tearing up, Cecilia’s own eyes filled with tears as did Max’s.

“Yeah, definitely, if you want me to.” Max pulled back enough to see her face and it was already wet, her blue eyes looking up at him with so much love and innocence, this is a young girl who always wanted a dad and he’s beyond willing to fill that role for her.

“I do.” Nattie dragged the ‘o’ out as she cried, a sob leaving her mouth making Max pull her back in for a hug, Cecilia moved to the bed sitting beside them her hand fell onto Max’s thigh in comfort.

“I love you so much, schatje, it’ll make me the happiest man to be your dad.”

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