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klausinamarink · 3 months

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based on this hilarious video with Gianmarco Soresi whom I’ve been watching his comedy work for a few months now

read on ao3

“What do you do?” The standup of the hour - the guy had introduced himself as Eddie - points at Steve.

Flustered at the attention directing every eye in the club to his table, Steve tries not to stammer as he answers, “Well, uh, I make movies.”

“Oh!” Eddie genuinely looks interested. “So you’re a director?”

“Yeah, pretty much. At least I started out as an indie, but I have a big project that’s out and a couple more on the way.” One table nearby claps and Steve tries to wave them off to stop.

“So what was that big project? Was it something we would’ve seen?” Eddie repositions himself so he has one leg up on the stool. Steve stares at how lean they seem with the tight black jeans. He’s got them daddy long legs. His brain suddenly burps out and it nearly makes Steve lose his composure.

“Uh, ha, I did The Final Bat. It’s on Shudder.” Steve shrugs nonchalantly, perfectly hiding his internal cringe. The horror genre is way out of his league and Steve’s already seen The Final Bat being on a few critical lists damning the title as another cliche-filled mess. He only did it because he had finally caved to Dustin’s pleading to make at least one horror movie.

Eddie, on the other hand, seems ecstatic by this revelation. “No way! That’s sick, dude! So the next time you make a horror flick, you’re gonna watch Blumhouse and A24 coming in at each other with steel chairs for distribution rights.”

Everyone laughs, including Robin. She smacks on Steve’s bicep with a wide grin. He smacks her back before he turns back to Eddie and clarifies, “I don’t like horror! I’m not doing it again!”

Aghast, Eddie throws an invisible hat to the ground and stamps on his feet. “Come on! Then what’s the point of watching the studios bite each other’s dicks off when you’re slipping out to watch - I don’t know - the Barbie movie! Now they’re just fighting for the next shitty horror movie to exist!”

Steve covers his mouth but fails to hold back in the laughter. Eddie’s infectious energy is starting to get to him. It makes his chest clench with something other than the usual pains.

Eddie patiently waits for the patrons to quiet down before continuing, still attentive to Steve, “I’m just wondering actually if you ever done theater class.”

“Sure did! Two years in high school,” Steve confirms.

“Let me guess, they did Hamlet?” Eddie raises an eyebrow like it’s meant to be accusatory.

“Yep, soon after I joined.” Steve nods, the memory of that production flashing before his eyes. It had its ups and downs but it was one of the most fun things Steve had ever experienced.

“No wonder they started as soon as your handsome ass walked in the club.” Eddie says low and flirtatiously into the microphone, staring directly into Steve’s eyes. It echoes across the room and back, bringing the howling laughter with it.

Heat crawls behind his face. Steve keeps his hands on the table, forcing down the urge to hide behind them. “I-” He stops to cough, “I wasn’t supposed to play Hamlet.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide, “What do you mean?!”

Robin answers loud enough for everyone to hear, “He was the grave robber, but the other guy who did Hamlet got into a coma a week before the show and Steve knew all the lines.”

“W-Woah, woah, woah!” Eddie holds his hands out, looking scandalous. He throws looks around the club. “Everyone, shut the fuck up right now! This is more important than caring about the rest of you!” Eddie drags the stool over and perches on it like a very much invested gargoyle, almost oblivious to the audience’s reaction.

“Okay, let me go through this.” He points at Steve, still holding eye contact as if Steve’s soul would provide the answer. “You weren’t Hamlet. You were meant to be the guy who gives him the skull to monologue. The OG Hamlet got into a coma for some reason-“

“Car accident.” Robin interjects.

“Yeah, no need to elaborate, ma’am. You, Steve-” Eddie breaks off for a second, holding back a laugh of his own. “You somehow knew all the Hamlet lines because you were waiting to skin OG Hamlet’s head and make his skull yours to do the monologue.”

There’s a scandalous outcry from all tables. Even when they mostly calm down, Steve uses the growing anticipation to ‘think’ about what Eddie just said before he casually shrugs and says, “Sounds about right.”

Eddie drops his face into his arm, letting everyone laugh at him. Steve lets himself break, his laughter bubbling out of him in a way that doesn’t sound so self-deprecating or hollow. If he was in a cynical mood, he would’ve thought it was pathetic that the only person who made him laugh so lightly again was some random standup.

After a moment, Eddie finally looks up, his face broken in disbelieving grin. He chuckles into the mic and looks back at Steve, “Sorry, it’s just I hear some wild stories in the crowd some nights and I think yours takes the cake.”

Steve smiles, “Thanks, man.”

Eddie stands up back, half-leaning onto the stool. “Do you still remember those lines? To be or not to be?”

The whole damn thing. “Uh… some of it?”

Eddie’s grin shifts into something more mischievous. “Let’s see who knows more.”

A collective oooh goes around the room, including Robin. She already has her phone out for recording. Steve rolls his eyes at her and takes a quick sip of his water. He clears his throat and starts, “‘To be or not to be, that is the question.’”

“‘Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer, the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune..’” Eddie says without missing a beat.

Oh, he thinks he knows it all. The sense of competition that Steve thought had died out with his future of a sports career reignites in his chest. He sits up even straighter. “‘Or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them.’”

“‘To die-to sleep, no more.’” Eddie slowly walks over to the edge of the stage, “‘And by a sleep to say we end the heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to.’”

“'tis a consummation devoutly to be wish'd.’” Steve almost shivers as he recites the line, uncertain if it’s from the club’s cooling temperatures or the intense gaze from Eddie’s eyes. “‘To die, to sleep.’”

“‘To sleep, perchance to dream—ay, there's the rub,’” Eddie suggestively rubs a hand on his chest as he squats down. Steve’s eyes flicker to the hand, almost hypnotized by the motion. Nay, he shakes himself out of it. No distractions!

“‘For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil.’” It’s getting harder to remember the following lines. That hasn’t happened before. Steve has never forgotten the damn soliloquy in years, even when other people try to challenge him.

Eddie continues, “‘Must give us pause—there's the respect that makes calamity of so long life. For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, the oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely.’”

“‘The pangs-’” Steve feels his breath catching in his throat when he realizes, for the first time, what beautiful eyes Eddie has.

Oh.

Eddie suddenly perks up in excitement. For a second, Steve thinks that Eddie has come to the exact same thoughts for him. But then he remembers that he hasn’t completed his line, so Steve feigns defeat.

“I win!” Eddie stands up with a triumphant cry. He spreads his arms out to embrace the cheering whoops and applause. “And I’ve only got to play Hamlet in-” He spins around and crouches down so he can look Steve in the eye again as Eddie’s voice booms into the mic, “-FOURTH GRADE, MOTHERFUCKER!”

Steve’s not even mad. He just throws his head back, laughing and clapping along.

Almost too soon, Eddie moves on to heckle on another table. But he keeps glancing over at Steve, his smile widening every time. And Steve smiles back, feeling a laugh slip out of his slips at every joke. He watches Eddie more closely, feeling his heart pound faster in his chest the more Eddie stays onstage.

By the time Eddie has to depart and thank everyone for being here, Robin announces her need to go home and snuggle with her girlfriend.

“Man, that was the most I’ve ever laughed in this place.” Steve stretches his back, groaning at the little pops. God, being in his early thirties can be a bitch sometimes.

Robin only hums, moving her eyebrows up and down suggestively. Steve pointedly makes no further comment as he pays the tab.

Outside, the crisp night air welcomes him. Steve takes in a whiff, staring up at the light-polluted sky as he bids Robin a goodbye. Then he hears his name being called. He turns around and sees Eddie hurrying out the doors.

Steve feels a smile already on his face, “Hey, Hamlet.”

Eddie grins at him, teeth and all, “Hey, yourself.”

They stare at each other but it lacks the competitive intensity earlier. Steve likes this. But he already has a feeling that this won’t be the first time either one of them would challenge the other.

“Sooo…” Steve says when the silence stretches a little too long. He gestures between himself and Eddie, “Wanna restart our introductions?”

Eddie’s eyes brighten, “Yeah! Right, sorry.” He clears his throat and thrusts a hand out. “My name is Eddie Munson. Self-proclaimed comedian and musician. You may recognize me as the guy who beat you in Hamlet’s famous speech.”

Steve takes his hand. Eddie feels bony and thin, but large enough to fit perfectly into Steve’s palm. He tries not to sound so eager as he says, “Steve Harrington. Film director who doesn’t like horror. Believe it or not, I actually know the whole stupid thing.”

Eddie tilts his head, narrowing his eyes, “Really? Like, no offense, but even if you remember that much-”

“‘And thus the native hue of resolution is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, and enterprises of great pith and moment with this regard their currents turn awry and lose the name of action.’” Steve winks with the Harrington Charm, smile and all.

Eddie stares at him for so long that Steve feels his heart racing for a different reason. And then, Eddie turns around and muffles a loud scream into his free hand. When the man turns back to face him, he’s sporting the widest smile Steve has never seen.

“You knew the whole thing!?” Eddie’s eyes sparkle with utter adoration.

“Yep.” Steve pops the ‘p’, grinning like a little shit.

“But why did you forget that line?”

“Let’s just say,” Steve squeezes Eddie’s hand, intertwining their fingers together, “I got distracted by the pangs of love.”

Eddie bites on his lower lip as he swoons his body over so they are pressing against each other. With half-lidded eyes, Eddie whispers, “You know that part is Hamlet referring to missing his dead dad, right?”

Of course Steve couldn’t help but kiss him.

#and now for something silly #as if i don’t always write something silly for steddie #klaus writes #steddie #stranger things

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undercoverpena · 1 year

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don't (ii)

captain john price x f!reader wordcount: 2.1k. summary: “y’do look fuckin’ good in my hat, love.” “I do, don’t I?” he nods, taking a long drag, your hand itching to reach out and take it from his lips— “don’t. touch. it.”

read part one here.

You don’t hide.

Breathing heavily, his hat dipped low on your head as you lean against the wall of the rundown bar. It’s silent, dark—and it almost makes your heart thump a little heavier.

And then you hear the door of the bar fly open, banging back into its frame. You know that gait, those boot soles on gravel, almost as if they were your own.

“Y’had fun, love?”

John’s voice dispels the silence, your eyes looking for his—watching as the match strikes, forcing orange and yellow to dance across his face, the red tip of his cigar lighting the air.

It’s the only light that accompanies the soft glow from the bar window above your head.

“Maybe.”

“Wrong answer.”

You smirk, biting the inside of your cheek as he steps closer. He’s never known you to give the right one, unless it’s asking him for more.

Not that you care. The smell of burning paper and smoke is meeting your nostrils, you staring up at him—challengingly—as his eyes flick to his hat.

“Y’want it tha fuckin’ bad, hmm?”

You almost nod, until his hand grabs your chin—fingers spreading over your jaw as he tilts your face up.

“Y’do look fuckin’ good in my hat, love.”

“I do, don’t I?”

He nods, taking a long drag, your hand itching to reach out and take it from his lips. Almost raising to do so. You wouldn’t put it to your lips, you had tried and failed at that before. But, to hold it, to roll it between your fingers again—

“Don’t. Touch. It.”

You smirk, dropping your hand down, pretending to touch your collarbone—watching his eyes track down to where your fingers are ghosting your skin.

You’re thankful for the low light from the bar. The way it illuminates and kisses half of his face—the upper half. Leaving the rest a mystery.

“Y’gonna be the death of me.”

“Shouldn’t have edged me. You know I get bratty.”

He blew out the smoke as he laughed, mixing it with the air, eyes on how it floats up between the two of you. He steps closer, almost flush with your body until there’s little to no gap between your hips and his.

And you think, you pray—touch me. Drag your fingers through me, coat them, fucking make me cum.

He must be able to tell. Must read the desperation in your eyes. Must know you want even just a kiss—almost needy for his lips.

Instead, he slides his mouth past your cheek, your jaw, his fingers sliding to your neck, lightly applying pressure.

“I’ll make it worth it later.”

“I think you should now.”

“Now? Y’want me to fuck you out here, where any of them can see, hmm?”

You arch your brow, because… you should care, but you don’t. Watching him take another drag, not taking your eyes off him as he drops the cigar, putting it out under his boot.

John would rather be shot than lose a cigar—than not smoke it until the end touched his fingers. Price has gutted a person for making him waste one—a sight that had both made a shiver run down your spine and clench your thighs together.

“Tell me to go back inside, love.”

Both his hands cupping your cheeks, his forehead almost meeting yours as his hat pushes up on your head.

“Tell me or—“

“Or what, John?”

His lips twitch, and you feel it more than you see it. “I just might fuck y’, that’s what.”

“I dare you.”

He snorts, and it vibrates in the air. “A dare led us here, love.”

Snaking your hands around his neck, you push your hips out, staring into his eyes as you do.

He’s good at controlling himself, at swallowing the hitches and the flutter of his lashes. You’re sure John could even make himself look stoic if you were on your knees, his cock in your mouth.

“Please,” you whimper.

And his eyes soften.

Just a fraction. His lips almost touching yours, his hips thrusting, making you gasp, and just as you’re about to close your eyes, he says,

“You’ll wait until later.”

And then he's gone—vanished like his cigar smoke in the air.

It takes a second, a long-horrid minute to get your breath back, to compose yourself to walk back in and not look as fucking frustrated as you feel. Your hand raising, ready to adjust yourself when—

There’s nothing there.

No hat to adjust.

“Shit.”

You’re going to have to go back in.

Head raised, chin tilted. Spine strong, confidence imperishable. Even if it had been. It had been rocked and shaken—the foundation of it spread with cracks.

Because you’d let your guard down, surrendered the fucking power.

You don’t even know how you put one foot in front of the other, unsure how you end up beside him at the bar—his hat firmly on his head, the music now some quick-tempoed thing which must be new. Because you don’t know the words, don’t know the beat, but it’s mixing with the alcohol, addling your brain. Your eyes briefing meet his, seeing them shimmer, twinkle—challenging you.

What you gonna do now, love?

Don’t fucking tempt me, John.

Your entire relationship to this point is one pushing the other, seeing who snaps first. Often, it’s you. Desperate little you, craving him—wanting him.

Then he fucking smiles. That soft one. The one which borders pacifying and kindness. The one you find the hardest to read.

It makes you thankful it’s just the two of you here, him sitting, you leaning. The others huddled, having moved to the dart board, distracted by competition and winning.

“Y’want a drink?”

“No… I think I’m done.”

Two meanings. One for him, one for anyone who is listening.

But you watch his features. How years of being a soldier has made him an effective mask wearer—able to show little to no emotion. But, you let your eyes brush over him in slow waves. Purposefully brushing it over him, finding his eyes trained on you, making you warm. His eyes telling you a similar story to the one your mind has running around it, a memory, a familiar dance—

A hand on your hip, the other on the back of your neck.

His cock spearing into you as you bite down on the back of your hand.

Except he loves to hear you whine.

Likes the sounds you make for him, and only him.

You swallow, mind poisoned with him and only him. Each scent, each look, each gruff sound he has made has been stapled into you.

And you can’t think of anything but him.

Not that you want to.

Need to teach y’patience, love. You teach me plenty in sand and mud, Captain. Can’t we just… fuck? This’ll be worth it. You promise?

Every corner of your mind thinks about him, about the way he kisses you like you’re both cherished and divine. How he lifts you with ease, needing your arms and legs around him, his mouth on your neck as he presses you against walls—

You can’t think straight.

It’s why you can’t drink anymore. Each movement of yours he’d have already predicted—ever the strategist he is. You’re a fly in his web, him spinning and spinning until you’re in his clutches. And it’s the only place you want to be.

Above him. Under him. To the fucking side of him—you didn’t care. Just him.

Him. Him. Him.

“Y’want to walk back?”

If it’s too much, y’say the word. We’ll leave. Come back. And you’ll fuck me? Oh, pretty girl—I’ll fuckin’ ruin you, hmm. Just like you like me to. But, I think you’ll like this, hmm. The waiting. The build up.

Sometimes, it being a game is all you have, and you take it. Happily. Greedily.

Often, it’s difficult not to want more. To desperately cling and search for it. It’s more than sex, but it’s not something more than any mission. It’s full of care and adoration, but not love and necessity. Something the two of you have, a piece that is just your own—one born from agonising over right choices and professional lines.

It’s how he knew you, before he knew you.

The two of you secretly took that first before bare skin even met. Both attempting to pacify the fire in your stomachs with something, anything.

So, now he knows you. Knows the sides of you that are pointy and chipped; the parts of you untouched by war, bullets and enemies.

Price knows the soldier, but John knows you.

He knows each curve, each muscle, and bone. Price knows the sounds you can make, either when injured or when you’re coming apart, but John knows what pleasure looks like in your eyes as he tells you, keep those pretty eyes on me, love.

And you do.

You always fucking do.

Have t’be patient, love. So I can ruin you later, hmm.

He taps the countertop, the space between you. Thick finger, one which had been in you hours ago—wreaking havoc on your building orgasm.

“Love…?”

It’s low.

So impossibly low, you’re sure you imagined it until he tapped again. Brow raised, even under his tilted hat. A sterner look, one washed with worry and concern—it blends like a horrid concoction in his eyes. One you want to rid with grazed knees and a welcoming tongue.

You move closer, rounding the bar counter. It’s dangerous, oh so fucking dangerous—especially with eyes close by, some that aren’t as drunk, and some that are.

You’re good though. Always able to slide a hand where it isn’t supposed to be, take something with ease. Holding his stare, staring into his impossibly beautiful eyes as you begin muttering about apologies and hats, lipstick on his cheek and toeing the line…

Distracting him—or so you think—until his hand latches around your wrist tightly, your smaller fingers clutching your underwear in its grasp, stolen back from his pocket.

“Stealin’ is wrong, love.”

If anyone had been looking, they might have noticed their captain churning, jaw close to snapping and eyes full of fire.

But you suspect they don’t. It’s a show all for you.

“Well, I’m already in enough trouble with my captain. Probably a bit more when I go into the bathroom and disobey him again.”

His eyes flash.

Full of molten fury and lust. Likely imagining it, the sight of your knees spread, some dingy sink counter having your bare arse on it—needy little fingers desperate to do what he can do better.

“I wouldn’t.”

You know the exact moment he’s lost to passion-filled daydreams and when he’s returned to the present. A sight you loved having a front row seat at, feeling him m lessens his grip, allowing your hand to slide back.

“Oh, but I will, John.”

His name blesses the air, licking across him, letting him hear the way you elongated it—that sinful way he fucking loves.

And then, you offer him a smirk with only your eyes, one he can read easily—knowing it’s been perfected all for him.

“Gonna go put these back on in the ladies,” you say in a low voice, tinged with a sultry tone and a purposefully pinned expression. “Be back in… ten to fifteen, I think.”

You tap your fingers against the countertop, deliberately leaving the proverbial ball in his corner. Taking back the damn power.

Knowing that in a minute, or two, he’d likely follow. That he wouldn’t care if one of them catches him—likely take off the fucking door if it meant he finished it, what he started.

It’s why you don’t bother putting them on when you step into the ladies, why you focus more on paper towels and wiping down the counter. Positioning yourself, accessible, ready—waiting.

A lump in your throat, suddenly worried you were wrong.

Each second ticking into a minute making you doubt yourself, that you’d got it all wrong. Whatever this all is.

You almost get down, let your heels touch the dirty tiles and dingy grout, when the door opens. Your lips curling, almost spitting out a grin as he throws his hat to you, locking the door.

“Put it on.”

Catching it, your earlier prize, you stare at him as he leans against the door, watching you, dragging his eyes up and down you.

“Because I won?” you tease, knowing him being here means he has cracked first. Meaning you broke him and his resolve.

He shakes his head, staring up at you through his lashes. “Cause if I’m gonna lose and fuck y’here, I want the only thing you to be wearing t’be somethin’ of mine.”

#captain john price x reader #price x reader #john price x reader #captain price #captain price x reader #captain john price #john price cod #cod mw ii #cod mw2 x reader #john price x female reader

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mirnsey · 6 months

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꧁𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐒꧂

❣︎𝐃𝟐. 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈❣︎

★✩★✩★✩★

• 𝐧𝐛 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫. 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡! 𝐂𝐄𝐎! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫. 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲! 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞, 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝, 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧! 𝐒𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐝, 𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐟 𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐣𝐨𝐛, 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧, 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐬𝐥𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲 •

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟐.𝟔𝐊

Toji was always seen as someone who wasn't good with money. He barely even upheld a job.. or, no—he wouldn't and didn't have a job at this point. No little jobs wanted to hire him because he seemed too intimidating and as if on the drop of a hat he would rob the place, and he was too lazy to do some big business jobs in offices. So, what do you do when you need money but don't wanna do work? Why not be a sugar baby? Suck some guy off and get paid for it? Easy.

So he went on some websites, looked up some people, and he got hooked up with some CEO of a big business. You were rich too? Perfect! For the first couple of weeks it was easy, Toji ventured to your condo to have a fun night with you, and he would wake up with a stack of cash on the bed side table, and with you nowhere to be found, off to work. It was like that at least five days a week, it was as if it was the nine to five job Toji refused to get. Setting off to your house each night, getting fucked, getting money, and then spending it on whatever.

And that 'whatever' was true as well. You never asked him what he spent his money on, and Toji never thought he had to tell you.

Well.. until this morning.

Toji raised from the silky comforters of your bed, dark eyes flitting over to the bedside dresser for the money, eyes widening when you were surprisingly still there. You were dressed in your work clothes, dark pants and a button up white shirt with your best leather shoes, though your jacket was somewhere else than your shoulders. Your fingers were working at counting out the money, hundreds already split between your forefingers. At the stirring of the man still on your bed, you looked over, eyes nonchalantly flicking over the pale skin of his chest. Most of the skin wasn't as pale as they were supposed to, covered with bites and red marks from last night, the man's calloused hand breaking you out of your reminiscing when it scratched over the valley of his pecs.

You looked back to the green paper in your hands, folding over about eight hundred dollars. You looked back to Toji again, the man already watching you, mostly the money in your hand, curious about something. "What do you use this money for anyway?" You asked, one of your brows raising in question as you waved the money in question.

Toji just shrugged, scratching the back of his neck while his jaw opened wide in a yawn. "Eh.. anything really," he answered, seeming as if he was hiding something. Your eyes bore into him, awaiting for him to say the whole truth. "Gambling, bets.." he listed out, as if it wasn't some waste of money. Your eyes narrowed, slight anger sparking in your voice when you spoke up.

"Do you win?" You asked, fingers tightening around the money. At this rate you would be late for work, and you were never late. Despite asking, you could probably already know the answer to how Toji would run back to you eagerly almost every night for the money to show up the next morning on the bedside dresser. It seemed to just be for the money, but he loved the sex too. "Do you?" You repeated slowly when not getting an answer from Toji, trying to keep eye contact even though he averted his gaze to one of your deep gray walls.

"Not.. really?.. like, once every.. five weeks.." he answered with a shrug, voice making it seem more like a question to himself. Your brows furrowed in annoyance, hand stuffing the roll of money into your pocket. "You mad?" He asked, the wide smirk on his face revealing its joking intentions.

Of course you were mad!

Sure this was just some side hustle because you were bored, trading sex or even just time together for money wasn't bad. And you didn't care at first, but how he would scamper back to you almost every day of the week was concerning after a while. You were wondering what he was doing with that money every time he left, it was a lot too! You asked just to make sure he wasn't buying drugs or something, this of course wasn't as bad—but you were still infuriated. You weren't just giving over money for him to give it away and not use after betting on some bad horse in a race.

Toji needed to be taught a lesson..

Maybe breaking that on time streak would do you some good..

With a roll of your eyes you ran a hand over your face, trying to ease the wrinkles caused by your furrowed brows. You snapped your fingers, gesturing him over as you ventured to the foot of your bed. You watched him walk over to you, black hair still messy and body only covered in his dark boxers. For a moment you just let your eyes rake over him, pupils focusing on his slightly hard cock. Morning wood, great..

Your mind wandered for a moment, if he was like this every time he was over after you had left for work. Did he jerk off before he left as well? Maybe take use of some of the toys tucked away in your side drawer—

Your tongue flicked out of your mouth, licking your lips as they felt unusually dry. You had something you were doing, you couldn't get distracted by the ebony haired man's dick. Leaning back with a sigh you patted your thigh, which Toji thought was an invitation to sit on your lap, which he would gladly take. Getting a quick fuck in before you went off to work? Sure.. would he be getting paid extra? Though, with a quick hit to the back of his thigh and a sharp look in your eyes he realized you wanted him to lay over your lap. Oh no...

Toji grumbled at the hit, leaning over and resting his torso on the top of your thighs, but, oh, would he be grumbling about worse things later on. Toji's dark eyes stared at the shag carpet tucked under your bed, ankles crossing anxiously when you didn't make a move immediately. Your fingers finally started to touch him, caressing the many scares on the man's back. You watched closely as he twitched at your soft touches, hips shifting over your thigh as he tried to get comfortable. His teeth nipped at his bottom lip to keep in a moan when his cock rubbed against your thigh, eyelids lowering.

As Toji continued to shift you sent a swat of your palm on his ass, causing the man to cry out. His face was now flushed in anger but also embarrassment, looking over his shoulder at you. "Hey! Fuck was that—" his words were cut off with another slap to his bottom, body jolting forward in surprise. Are you seriously spanking him over your knee like a child? It was humiliating and it wouldn't do any good, Toji would probably just go and bet his money away once you left for work.

"Count," Was all you said, rubbing your hand over his clothed ass. His brows just furrowed, confused. "I'm not-" at this point he wouldn't get out a full sentence if you kept hitting him as he was speaking. "I said, count." You repeated, fingers grabbing at his hair and pulling his hair back. A sharp hiss left Toji's lips, eyes squeezing closed at the stinging from his scalp.

Toji let out a groan, eyes prying open to face your glare. "One.." he growled, already knowing he would not be liking this. What were you gonna do? Ten spanks to the ass and then you would shoo him off and head to work? Easy. He would be out of here in less than ten minutes.

★✩★✩★✩★

One hour.

It has been.. one hour.

Toji's cheeks were red, and not just the ones on his face. After the first ten hits you had gotten a bit annoyed by the lack of responses by the ebony haired man, so you tugged his boxers off, tossing them somewhere in your room. Now his ass cheeks were a bright red, prints of your hand left on his skin.

He hiccuped lightly, eyes glossy with tears and face stained with already fallen ones. His hands were gripping your pant leg, wrinkling your clothes as he tried to keep his composure. It was painful, it stung, and he probably wouldn't be able to sit for a week.. but it felt.. good? Every hit of your hand caused a shock to rise up his spine, and to his cock.

Speaking of his cock. It was weeping, pressing against the scratchy fabric of your pants causing only slight stimulation. With every hit of your hand he would jolt, the underside of his dick rubbing against your thigh. His tip was red, almost purple, pre leaving a patch of wetness on your pants. Toji was sobbing and yearning just to cum, or to even just get away.

He tried to get himself together as your fingers just ran over the marks you had left, whole body trembling. His chest racked with sharp and shaky breaths, trying to anticipate the next hit. Sadly, he didn't anticipate enough, body jumping when you sent another slap to his ass. "3-3.. 31.." he hiccuped, eyes squeezing closed and more tears falling from his lash line.

"Good." You smiled, palm smoothing over his bottom to try and ease away the pain. You felt a bit sympathetic for him. He had messed up counting at least twice now, each closer and closer to the last spank you promised him. You said a good 35 would be good after he started speaking back around 12, only 10 away from his first mistake.

You watched as Toji's hips started to piston against your thigh, trying to send even a sliver of pleasure to counteract the pain. With a small chuckle your hand swatted his ass again, ripping a loud whine from the man's throat. Though, after this hit he didn't say the number immediately, head dropping down as he let out more cries. Coos left your lips, fingers running up and down his spine to try and ground him again. "Color, Toji?" You asked, wanting to make sure he wasn't tapping out.

With a sharp intake of air from the man he let out a measly 'green', body shivering with the conflicting feeling of your soft touches and stinging on his ass. "Good." You said, a smirk quirking at your lips. You had a sadistic idea, and Toji would definitely hate it. But.. It's all in the work of teaching him his lesson, isn't it? You ran your palm over his cherry red ass before bringing it back and spanking him again, Toji letting out a loud cry as his body tensed up. "Number?" You purred, awaiting to see if your plan would work.

"3... 3.." Toji droned on, trying to remember. After another moment he spoke, "32?.." he spoke, concerned that he had gotten it wrong so close to his final number. Perfect.

You tutted lightly, the response already causing Toji to pipe up in fear. He couldn't have messed up again, no.. nonono.. the last number he said was 31! He was right! You were lying!

"No, sorry baby, but that's wrong.." you said, your voice giving way to the wide smile on your face. Toji couldn't help but cry louder and you couldn't help but feel yourself throb at the sound of his shaky breaths and just imagining the tears running down his face.

"No—'m not-[name] please!" He begged, using his shaken arms to raise himself up. Despite the muscles under his skin his arms seemed like noodles, using all of his strength to just lift his upper body. "Please.. please—I won' do it again! Please-" he begged, voice being cut off by a whiny cry.

You watched him with a smile, fingers still caressing his red ass. "Oh.. how can i say no to that face." You teased, using your free hand to brush his tears away, Toji instinctively pushing his cheek into your hand to try and win you back.

But really, how could you?

His cheeks, all four of them, a bright red from abuse and tears. His bottom lip swollen and almost bleeding from him digging his teeth into it, trying not to cry out too loud when getting punished. Oh, and those eyes. They were glassy and just begging for your forgiveness, eyelashes holding small tears. You cooed, using your thumbs to wipe his tears, fixing him on your lap so you were chest to chest. Toji immediately started to shift to get comfortable, the feeling of your pants a bit irritating against his slapped ass. "Promise?" You asked, brows raised as he just nodded, leaning forward and melting into your body.

His face pushed into your neck, a whine muffled when you wrapped your hand softly around his base. "Oh—wait, f-fuck— ah," he moaned, hands pawing at your shirt for something to grab onto. You stroked him slowly, carefully picking up pace. It wasn't too long until he needed to cum, your voice ringing in his ears as you whispered sweet nothing into the skin of his cheek. "Mmph—'m gonna-i gotta—" he wasn't even able to get to the point of his sentence before he let out a choked groan, hips thrusting up into your hand as he came. Spurts of awaiting cum shot from the tip of his cock, twitching and meaning widely as he finally got his orgasm, his cum coating your hand and your shirt. You marveled at the sight of his dick for a moment, grinning at its purplish color, sadly being pulled from your thoughts when some fell from your fist and into your expensive pants, a low grown leaving your lips.

Toji slumped forward into you, breathing shallow once again when you continued to stroke him. "Mmh—[n-name] no.. can't.." at his words you pulled away slowly with a roll of your eyes, mumbling a condescending 'baby' as a joke. Your hand laid on his thigh, easing it down when his muscles suddenly jumped at the contact of your hand. You pat the side of his leg, turning to lay him on the bed. You chuckled when Toji's arms shot out and around your neck, pulling you into him. You cringed away knowing that his spent and cum covered cock was leaving stains on your shirt and pants, some probably even getting on your belt.

"Toji—I'm starting your bath," you laughed, trying to not give into his embrace. You let out a chuckle at a thought, prying Toji's muscled arms from around your neck and tucking your hand into your pocket, fishing out the money you had counted out before. You folded it before tucking it between the naked man's parted teeth, catching him up off guard. You then walked off to start the bath you were talking about, leaving Toji to catch his breath and count the money you had stuck into his mouth.

800 dollars?...

Tomorrow at 8:30 it is.

★✩★✩★✩★

𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 😔

𝐊.𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 . 𝐌.𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.

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feelinmatcha · 29 days

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❛ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 ❜

SYNOPSIS: sanji x reader, more than friends, less than lovers. WARNINGS: none 🎵: about you by the 1975

As you stood on the opposite side of the kitchen counter from The Cook, the subtle tension in the air seemed to thicken, wrapping around you like a shroud. Though the space was familiar, doubling as both a kitchen and dining area aboard the Thousand Sunny, today it felt unfamiliar, as if you were tiptoeing into uncharted territory, mindful of respecting his privacy and boundaries.

For Sanji, this kitchen was more than just a place to cook; it was his sanctuary, a refuge from the chaos of the world beyond the ship's hull. His keen eyes swept over your disheveled appearance with a mix of concern and curiosity, taking in the damp strands of hair plastered to your forehead and the faint traces of saltwater clinging to your skin. A single strand of seaweed entangled amidst your locks spoke volumes of the recent maritime misadventure you had endured. Your once-breezy sundress now clung to you uncomfortably, betraying the discomfort you surely felt.

"What happened, darling?" Sanji's voice, tinged with genuine concern, sliced through the heavy silence like a sizzling knife through butter. His eyes, sharp and searching, scanned the room for answers, seeking to understand the circumstances that led to your current state.

"I lost a bet," you murmured softly, arms instinctively wrapping around yourself in a defensive gesture. "Usopp and Luffy thought it'd be fun to toss me overboard."

Sanji's heart clenched at the defeated look in your eyes, his protective instincts bubbling to life. Stepping closer, he extinguished his cigarette with a flick of his wrist, his hands hovering over your slumped form, a silent offering of comfort and support. Despite the worry etched into his features, he managed a tight-lipped smile, a small beacon of reassurance in the middle of your uncertainty.

"You shouldn't be here," he fretted. "You need to take a hot bath and change into dry clothes. You'll catch a cold if you remain in this state." His words, though gentle, carried the weight of just how concerned he was for your well-being. It was a testament to the bond that existed between you two aboard the Straw Hat Pirates' ship.

With a nod of understanding, you allowed yourself to be guided by Sanji's gentle insistence. Together, you made your way to the bathroom, the sound of running water mingling with the soft hum of the ship's engines. In the warmth of the bath, surrounded by the comforting scent of lavender soap and steam, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. As you emerged from the bathroom, clad in fresh clothes provided by Sanji, you couldn't help but feel a different kind of gratitude towards him. His whole personality had been a lifeline, a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there was always someone there willing to pull you out of the tumultuous sea-- figuratively and literally.

NOTES: had this little one in my drafts for way too long and i've only now decided to finish it. opla fanfics is getting dry wayyy too fast for my liking.

#can also be read as ur favs ^^#sanji x reader #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji vinsmoke #sanji #sanji black leg #opla sanji x reader #one piece live action #one piece #one piece x reader #taz skylar x reader #taz skylar #opla x reader #opla #opla sanji

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my-soupy-brain · 2 months

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Next Door Neighbor: Part 5

I'm not done with this. They're just too fun to write smut for. More naughty spicy fun time with Coach Ted Lasso.

relationship: Ted Lasso x reader (F)

warnings: ALL SMUT

description: Ted gets (f)risky in his office

---

A month later Ted has started his job as the new football coach at the local university.

Back to his roots, he joked, but he still holds a candle for European football.

When he asks you to attend his first home game, you’re more than thrilled. You have seats at the 50 yard line, about halfway up.

Every so often he spots you and flashes his gorgeous smile and a small salute to you.

After the game you go to the locker room and the boys are heading out. They all blush knowing damn well who you are because Ted keeps a photo of the two of you proudly on his desk.

“Hey there, Coach. Good game,” you chirp as you knock on the doorframe. Ted smiles and heads your way, bringing you into his arms.

“Hope you had fun up there,” he teases, his fingers dipping into the pockets of your jeans for a moment.

His assistant coach tips his hat and heads out. Ted waves him off and soon you’re left alone together.

“So you wanna go out tonight? Celebrate your first win?”

Yes smiles and closes his office door, locking it. You watch with curious eyes.

“I was thinking…maybe…a snack here first?”

Before you can catch on to his hint he pulls you in by your hips and kisses you. He walks the two of you near the door to flip off the lights. You moan at the naughty privacy of the moment.

You giggle and he giggles and his lips move to your neck .

“Love that sound of you laughing, darlin’,” he murmurs into your chest.

His hands run down your body, over your curves, over your breasts. He loves feeling every inch of you. Soon his fingers fiddle with the button of your jeans and your little whimper makes his hands move faster.

“Baby…in here?” you ask blushing, the room dark and building near empty, but still.

Ted stop and smirks. “We can go back home if ya want, sugar…”

Home. Next door to each other. But you shake your head.

“No, please keep going…”

He loves that answer, his hands pushing down your jeans, stepping you out of them, and his fingers dancing between your thighs. He can tell how excited you are by the dampness in your panties.

Ted’s not used to reacting this way. He never felt this ambitious with Michelle. But something about the freeness and openness he has with you - you never make him feel like too much. He follows you, you follow him. It’s an equal measure of respect and affection.

Last week he pulled the car over on the drive back to your homes and brought you over his lap. It was dark, you were on a gravel road in the country — you feel like a teenager again except the sex was mind-blowing better as he rammed his throbbing, heavy cock into you, your bodies slick with sweat and the car bouncing in a shared rhythm.

In his dark office, his lust is insatiable when it comes to you. The heavy scent of desire between your legs, on his fingers. He revels in making you shiver and your eyes flutter closed. Two thick pads of his first and second fingers start to rub your clit.

Before you can beg him for more he’s on his knees, peeling your panties down your legs as he looks up at you.

“May I?” he asks with a smirk. His chest rises and falls with his breath. You nod.

Ted’s face tilts as he moves closer, encouraging your leg over his shoulder. His big hand runs down your thigh and knee. “So sexy,” he mutters as his lips meet your hot slit.

Your fingers run through his hair and he moans at that sensation, his tongue licking into you, making your body arch.

“Oh, fuck!”

Ted smiles and keeps going. His cock was strained in his khakis but he’ll deal with that later. He wants to make your eyes roll back. He wants you to feel as good with his lips and tongue and mouth licking your sex as he did when you did it for him two nights ago.

It doesn’t take much. Ted’s tongue flicks and rolls the soft bead of your clit with ease, as if he’s rehearsing a game speech right to your pussy.

When he inserts his long digits and curls them just so, your knees almost buckle and give out. He holds you up with one strong hand, his lips slurping you up like soup on a cold day.

The vibration of your hips, the pebbling of your skin, he knows you’re there so when you cry out his name, it’s no surprise.

“Fuck me!”

Now that’s a surprise.

And he’s willing to oblige, standing up and unbuckling his belt, sliding his pants down and holding your other leg up, he guides his aching cock into your cunt while it’s still pulsing from come.

“Shit, sugar,” he says, getting clenched on immediately. He’s amazed he made it inside, with how rock-hard he is and how tight you’re clenching. A soft rhythm, your lips against his — and you find a rhythm. You can taste your slick on his lips and it makes you moan, and you moan again when his hands cup your ass tight, his own moan tumbling from his lungs.

When he hears the soft sound of a speaker and music, he freezes. You both do. His cock nestled and bobbing in your soaked channel, he peeks through the blinds and sees a janitor in the hallway across from the locker room.

Ted moves his hips again, and you moan softly, trying to contain your noise. It’s sexier this way, trying to stay clandestine.

When you bite your lip and tilt your head back, your cheeks blushing climbing down your neck and chest…

“Oh, fuck,” Ted murmurs, his lips going to your neck where it can hide his moans. Suddenly you’re coming again, clenching around him, panting hard but quietly, chanting, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…”

Ted smiles and his own lips flutter as he follows you over, coming into you, twitching a little as your bodies slow down.

He lets go of your leg, and stands back to adjust himself. He finds a towel in his drawer to clean you up, which he insists on doing for you like the gentleman he is.

As you rebutted your jeans, he grins with blushed cheeks, pulling you toward his chest so he can hold you and hug you.

“We’ll go home, snuggle up, watch our show. What do ya say, sugar?” Ted asks. You nod and just as you’re about to speak…

The janitor’s speaker comes back, louder. Louder. Entering the locker room now. Ted gently turns the light back on, unlocks the door and you take your positions: you take a seat on his office couch while he pretends to be working.

“OH! Sorry, coach,” the janitor says with a shocked look as he opens the door to the office.

“Oh, shucks. That’s no problem, Hank. I was just burnin’ the midnight oil here. I’ll get outta your way so you can do your handiwork.”

Hank smiles and nods. He’s in his early 70s, a lovely man who doesn’t seem to suspect anything.

As Ted packs his bag and grabs your hand, he turns to say goodnight again.

“G’night, Coach,” Hank says. “Ya got some lipstick on your ear there.”

Ted’s face goes beet red. Yours does, too. Hank gives you each a wink before humming off-key to his music again as you and Ted run like caught teenagers to his car.

#ted lasso x reader #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fluff #ted lasso x you #ted lasso smut

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hesbuckcompton-baby · 4 months

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I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 3

AO3

Summary: In the wake of a terrible loss, the arrival of a new airman at Thorpe Abbotts promises to change the trajectory of Frankie's life forever

Warnings: Death, grief

Word Count: 3.9k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles

A/N: HE'S HEREEEE 🗣🗣🗣

It was dark in the mechanics' hut, the lights kept off during the day to preserve power, but the overcast nature of the afternoon did nothing to light the space from the outside. Hours had passed since the pilots had left, and although Frankie was never made privy to the specifics of their missions, she could tell by the amount of fuel that had been requested that they were going far, much further than they ever had before. There was not a man among them who hadn't seemed to have a dark cloud over his head as they had prepared to depart that morning.

She and Lemmons sat on the floor together, backs propped up against the wall, both too troubled by worry to work. Frankie had an old fashion magazine in her lap, and they passed the time by flicking through each section and poking fun at a myriad of ugly sweaters and ridiculous hats.

"Those are nice," Ken stated, pointing at a pair of green brogued shoes.

"Seriously? I think they're garish."

He shrugged. "My Fonda has some like it. They look nice on her."

She let out a low whistle, teasingly nudging his side as his face turned bright red, a satisfied smile curling his lips. For a boy as young as he was, he sure loved Fonda. Frankie had noticed the heart-shaped locket that hung from his neck the very first day they'd worked together, but it had taken weeks for him to let her have a look inside. It must have been nice to be loved the way she was.

The magazine was losing its charm. It had been over an hour, and they were running out of pages. With a huff, she tossed it across the room, landing in a heap of crumpled pages underneath the table. Ken looked over at her, raising a brow.

She shrugged. "Bored. Want a cigarette?"

Without waiting for an answer, Frankie dug around in her pocket and produced two loose, slightly bent cigarettes, passing one to Lemmons. She lit hers swiftly, taking in an inhale of smoke. He rolled his between his fingers, never bothering to light it. Sometimes she forgot he didn't smoke.

"I'm gonna take you for a drink tonight. We deserve it."

"I'm nineteen."

Frankie stared at him for a long moment. "...So?"

"So, I can't drink."

"Jesus Christ. Welcome to England mate, you might be the only nineteen-year-old currently in the country who doesn't already have a drinking problem."

He opened his mouth to respond, but before the words could emerge they were interrupted by a rapid knocking at the door. Far from the usual pounding thuds the men usually used, this knock was delicate, polite, but its urgency set Frankie's heart to beating twice as fast.

Scrambling to her feet, she rushed for the door, tossing her cigarette into the ashtray on the table as she passed. Hauling it open, a wave of nausea coursed through her as she saw George standing outside, hair damp from the drizzle, tie pulled loose away from her neck, her eyes red and puffy from crying.

"Wh-" Frankie trailed off as she slammed into her, gripping her in the tightest hug she'd ever felt. As she wrapped her arms around George's back, she could feel her shaking beneath her palms.

George let out one sob after another, face buried in Frankie's shoulder as her tears soaked the fabric of her coveralls. Looking back over at Lemmons, their gazes met in wide-eyed expressions of anxiety, and if George hadn't been crying so loudly Frankie was sure the thumping of her heart would've been audible.

"George- George," She spoke firmly, hands pressed to George's cheeks as she forced her to meet her eye. To be so harsh to a woman who needed nothing but softness ripped a hole through her, the guilt churning her stomach, but she needed to know. "Tell me what happened."

She nodded hurriedly, wiping her tears away with the backs of her hands. "They made it to Africa - we started getting messages through about an hour ago, but, uh..." George's lip trembled, and she sucked in a long, haggard breath. "Curt's dead, Frankie."

Lemmons let out some sort of strangled gasp as Frankie felt all of the blood drain from her face. For a moment she didn't know how to process the words, she just knew she needed to hold George - to hold her tight, tighter than anyone ever had. There was not an inch between them as she stroked a gentle hand through her golden hair, trying with all her might to keep breathing as she felt a warm tear roll down her cheek.

Over George's shoulder, she spied Ken making for the door, a frown casting a shadow over his boyish face. He met her eyes, and she offered him a nod, freeing him from the scene so he could inevitably tell the others.

The two women held each other for a long moment, Frankie's chin burrowed against George's collar. When she finally spoke, it was little more than a hoarse whisper, her throat suddenly dry as a bone.

"...And Bucky?"

Sniffing loudly, George pulled back, shaking her head. "No, no, he's okay. He made it to Algeria." Frankie hadn't released she was holding her breath until she let it escape her, raising a hand to cover her mouth as she nodded.

"Yeah? Yeah. Alright," She could worry about the others later - for now, knowing Egan was alive was enough to settle her drumming heart. "You need to go home, ok? You need to rest."

"My shift's not over, I still have to-"

"I am gonna walk up there myself and tell them you're not coming back today. Not tomorrow, neither. And if they've got a problem with that they can take it up with me - believe me, I don't give a shit if I take an insubordination charge over this."

A tearful smile broke out across George's face, holding onto Frankie's hand as it cupped her cheek. "Tangling with you? I don't fancy their chances."

Frankie chuckled, pulling her into one last hug and pressing her lips firmly to her temple. "Go, go. I'll see you soon, ok?"

"Yeah," She whispered against her neck, reaching out to squeeze her hand as she broke the hug, stepping backwards towards the door and disappearing.

As soon as she was alone, Frankie sucked in a long, laboured breath, collapsing into one of the rickety chairs that surrounded the table in the middle of the room. Doubling forward, she lay her head in her hands, pressing the heels of her palms against her eyes as she focused on taking one breath after the next.

Since the war had begun, she had been cycling through phases of fear and calm, letting herself slip into the all too comfortable belief that it couldn't touch her here - couldn't take from her as long as she was home, as long as she was safe.

But God, how the world kept proving her wrong.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Almost a month had passed. Every mission took a toll, but the trip that had killed Curtis Biddick seemed to hang heavier than any other ever had.

Or perhaps it just seemed that way because of George.

Some nights Frankie would stay up late, rubbing exhaustion from her eyes as she fought to stay awake long enough to finish a chapter of her book, lit by the dim bulb of her bedside lamp. And then in the darkness she would hear a rustling, a casting aside of the course, army-issue bedsheets, and feel a weight press into the mattress beside her as George slipped under the covers, silently resting her head against Frankie's shoulder. She liked to listen to her heartbeat on the nights she felt most alone - when she felt the farthest from home, the most separated from the boy she almost loved - it brought her comfort to listen to that telltale sign of life radiating from the person closest to her. She had someone, and that was enough to live with.

Frankie had liked Curt, but she hadn't known him well. Sometimes she wished she had, if only so that she wouldn't feel so guilty, comforting her best friend over a loss she no longer felt so keenly. Instead, all she could do was softly whisper the words she was reading to her, and let her mere presence be the comfort as they both drifted off to sleep.

It had grown warm overnight, and the humidity combined with the heat of George's body burrowed close next to hers left Frankie slick with sweat by the time she woke up, her hair sticking to her neck in damp strands. Peeling the covers away as she clambered out of bed, careful not to disturb her sleeping friend, she made a beeline for the showers, hoping to wash away the unpleasant, sticky sensation that coated her skin. She was used to evening showers after a long day's work, and it felt strange to stare down at the hot water rolling off of her body and see it come away clear, clean, not streaked with the dirt and oil she was often coated with by the time she made it home each night.

Wringing her hair out with a towel as she made her way out of the bathroom, Frankie dodged the other women emerging from their beds as she reached her own area, her coveralls and workboots waiting for her on a nearby chair. George had moved back to her own bed, carefully removing each of the curlers she meticulously applied every night, just like all of the other servicewomen who were afforded the luxury of working indoors, a far cry from Frankie's reality. It wasn't that Frankie didn't like to dress up - she loved the chance to do her hair and makeup, to dress up and feel pretty for once - it just wasn't a practicality her profession afforded. Her hair needed to be out of the way, and it made no sense to waste money on makeup that would be ruined by sweat and grime within the hour.

"If Dye makes it back, there'll be a party tonight," George stated, watching her reflection as she looped her tie into a knot. "You gonna go?"

"Uh," Frankie considered this for a moment, sniffing her coveralls from the previous day and grimacing at the smell, switching them out for a clean pair. "Nah, not tonight, I don't think. I've already got some outstanding stuff from the last few days that needs sorting, it's gonna be a busy one."

"Alright, I'll see if Sandra and Helen are going."

"I'm glad you're going," Frankie smiled.

George's gaze turned to her, and she considered this for a moment before shrugging. "Can't sit here forever."

It was a fact that didn't need dwelling on, and Frankie wouldn't patronise her with praise. This was just the way their lives worked now. One by one, the women in their hut finished getting ready and left for their various jobs until Frankie was the only one left, locking up the front door as she exited. The burn that had scorched her palm had long since healed, leaving a mottled pink scar across her hand, but she could clutch the handlebars of her bike without pain now, so she had returned to her morning ritual of cycling as fast as she physically could to the airstrip, revelling in the feeling of the warm morning air blowing through her hair.

Dye's plane was swooping in as she arrived, and Frankie couldn't help but smile at the chorus of whoops and cheers that pierced the air, flight and ground crews alike lining the runway to await his valiant return. Twenty-five missions. She could barely fathom it. For as long as she could remember, planes like this had been her life, but she'd never flown in one - Dye had done it twenty-five times. The number boggled her, a reality so close to and yet so distinctly separate from her own.

"Frankie!" Lemmons called over from where he was sitting with a few of the local boys. The village kids had taken a shine to the young mechanic, and she found she rather enjoyed their presence, childish wit relieving the strain of their long working hours. She crossed the grass towards them as he spoke up again. "Gonna replace the panelling on the bombers from last week, you in?"

She shook her head, batting a hand dismissively. "Nah, you go enjoy the celebrations with the others, I'll handle it."

He frowned, a crease appearing between his brows. "You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure, I hardly even know Dye, I'm not missing out. Take the night off, you deserve it."

A smile began to spread across his expression. "Well thanks, Frankie."

"No worries. Hey - did we get that delivery of rivets that was meant to come in?" Lemmons shook his head, and she shrugged. "Don't worry about it, I'll take a list to the boss of everything we need."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was growing dark, a work light on the tarmac illuminating one of the B-17 engines as she worked away at it, a pile of scattered tools littering the ground from where she had tried and failed to toss them back into her toolbox without paying proper attention. She could hear the muffled music far off in the distance, the lights from the party casting a golden reflection against the clouds like a beacon in the night. Tightening one of the bolts, Frankie prayed to herself that George was having fun.

The sound of footsteps approaching from behind alerted her to sudden company, but she was too engrossed in her work to turn. Besides, she could already guess who it was.

"Heya, Frankie," Bucky's voice came, and she suppressed a smirk at the accuracy of her prediction.

"Evenin'."

"We missed you at the party," He stated.

"Busy," She replied, letting out a grunt as she pinched the skin of her thumb with her wrench, flapping her hand for a moment to relieve the pain.

"Just came to see ya 'cause I don't think you've met Rosie yet."

Frankie let out a sigh, sliding her wrench into her pocket, speaking as she began to turn. "Bucky, if you boys have got yourselves another fucking dog, I swear-"

There was another man there, standing next to Egan, blue eyes watching her as she stumbled over her words, trailing to an awkward stop. She had a smear of oil across her forehead from where she had absent-mindedly wiped the sweat from her brow with a filthy hand, and Bucky pursed his lips tightly as he tried not to laugh.

"Not a dog," Rosie stated, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile.

"No," She breathed, snapping herself out of her awkwardness. "No, uh, sorry - Frankie, I'm Frankie," Holding out her hand to shake, she noticed its filthiness and grimaced, swiftly retracting it.

"Frankie's one of our mechanics," Egan explained. "She'd be happiest if we fired the rest of the ground crew and let her do the whole thing herself."

"But then who'd clean the dog shit and vomit out for me, eh?" Frankie shrugged, a pink spatter colouring her cheeks. Bucky almost frowned, taken aback by her uncharacteristically awkward demeanour.

"Look, I promised Buck I'd only be gone five minutes, so," He looked down at his watch, shrugging.

"No, no, that's fine, you have a good night," Frankie smiled, wiping her dirty palms on the sides of her trousers.

Bucky turned to leave, pausing for a moment. "Rosenthal?"

"Oh, no, I was gonna head off anyway, thanks Major," Rosie nodded, and they lingered in silence for a moment after Egan left, his silhouette disappearing into the darkness down the runway.

"Sorry I thought you were a dog," She chuckled slightly, breaking the quiet as she rubbed her thumb where she'd pinched the skin, a red mark forming.

"Well," Rosie shrugged, standing with his hands in his pockets. "Been called worse."

Frankie smiled, a flash of teeth in her grin as she glanced back at the engine for a moment, the great thing looming over her in its frame. "And... sorry Bucky dragged you all the way out here, I'm sure the party is much more interesting, and-"

"Hey, you don't have to apologise," He shook his head. With the work light shining on them, it seemed to cast a halo around her head, brown hair running golden along its edges. Even covered in filth, she must've been one of the prettiest girls he'd seen in... well, he couldn't quite recall. "How long have you been out here?"

"Uh, what time is it - eight?"

Rosie let out a laugh. "Gone midnight."

"Jesus Christ," She flashed him a tired grin. "Shit, I missed dinner."

"Well," He shrugged. "I am a Captain. Sure we can find something."

"You're on," Frankie agreed, the empty feeling in her stomach suddenly amplified once she realised how long it had been since she'd eaten. "Although, I'd better clean up first," She noted, wiping her hands on one of the engine rags.

"By the way, you've got a little-" Rosie gestured to his own forehead.

"Oh, shit," Frankie muttered, reaching up with the rag and just managing to miss the oil stain. He let out a chuckle, stepping forward.

"Here, lemme just-" She offered up the rag, and he dabbed at the stain, which less went away than it did smudge even more. He furrowed his brow as he tried to get rid of it, and she couldn't help but let out a laugh at the sheer concentration in his expression, their faces far closer than she would ever usually allow with a man she'd only just met. But there was something endearing in him, something safe. "I think... I think I got it."

"Thanks," Frankie chuckled, taking back the rag and stepping back towards the Nissen hut. "I'm just gonna wheel this engine inside and wash the crap off my hands, then we can go."

"I await your return, milady," Rosie nodded, smile turning to a cringe as she turned away from him. What was that? Don't say that!

She smiled to herself as she entered the hut, her pleased expression turning to a grimace as she got a waft of herself, the twelve-hour shift out in the sun making itself known. Oh shit.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The mess hall was completely deserted, the only light coming from the kitchens as Frankie waited patiently for Rosie to return. He had volunteered to go and scrounge for food, confident that his rank would protect them if they were discovered, and she grinned as he returned, proudly carrying a large tin of peaches and a couple of bars of ration chocolate.

"Oh, perfect. Midnight feast," She beamed, taking a seat on one of the long benches that lined the tables as he sat down opposite, producing a tin opener from his pocket.

"Food fit for kings, I'd say," Rosie agreed, wrestling with the peaches for a moment until he was able to break the lid. Producing two forks, Frankie held one out to him, using her own to skewer a slice of the orange fruit.

"I'd just like to preface this by saying that I don't usually smell like this... actually, I do," She admitted, picking at some dirt stuck beneath her nail.

"Hey, I'm not judging - you wouldn't either once you'd smelled the inside of our flight suits," He shrugged, and she let out a huff of laughter, chewing on her peach slices, a droplet of sweet juice running down her lip. "So... how long've you been a mechanic?"

"Dad's been running an auto repair shop at home since before I was born, I grew up on it," Frankie explained, skewering another slice with one hand as she unwrapped her chocolate bar with the other. "He wanted to go over to France, help fix army jeeps, but he lost his foot in the Great War so they won't take him - I was born when he was away, see, he'd been over there for six months or so when a shell went off and he lost it. So the cars were all we had. I switched to planes when I was about fifteen - bit of an impractical hobby, but I've read every single book on it they had in Stratford library," She chuckled.

"Stratford... Shakespeare, right?"

Her brow raised. "Yeah. Right. Y'know I think the only good thing about this war is that the tourist buses have stopped coming around," She joked, and Rosie laughed, nodding along as he ate. Why was she telling him all this? In the last hour, he'd found out more about her than Bucky or Lemmons had in months. But she found she didn't feel embarrassed telling him any of it, the words just flowed naturally.

They sat there in the dim mess hall eating peaches until they started to feel sick, the hands of Rosie's watch ticking steadily past 1am by the time they left, making sure to hide all evidence of their midnight raid. It had begun to rain by the time they stepped out into the night air, and before Frankie could utter a single word of complaint he had shrugged off his uniform jacket and given it to her to hold over her head, her own makeshift shelter whilst his own curls fell flat, the water leaving dark streaks down his shirt.

"Are you sure about this?" She asked for what must have been the third time as they reached the end of her row of Nissen huts, Rosie's hair soaked and plastered to his forehead, his skin almost visible through the drenched state of his clothes.

"I said stop asking," He assured her, nodding confidently despite the visible trembling in his shoulders.

"I'm just worried I'm gonna ruin your jacket."

"Well, it'd die for a worthy cause."

Frankie grinned, slowing to a stop as she reached the front door of her hut. The lights were all off inside, not a single sign of life as her bunkmates enjoyed their well-earned sleep. When she spoke again, it was in whispers, careful not to wake them even despite the hammering of rain against the metal roof.

"Thank you for dinner, it was... unexpected."

"Very," Rosie nodded in agreement, mirroring her smile. She handed over his jacket, and he folded it, tucking it beneath his arm, already well past its usefulness.

"Tomorrow's gonna be a rough morning."

"Take the day off, have a lie-in, you deserve it."

She raised a brow, and he laughed. "You know I won't."

"I suspected as much," He agreed, nodding firmly. "G'night, Frankie."

"Goodnight."

Frankie slipped carefully inside, cautious not to make a sound as she crept over to her bed, stripping off her wet coveralls as she reached quickly for her nice, warm pyjamas.

When George's whispered voice broke the silence, she swore she almost had a heart attack. "You've been... working?"

"Something like that," Frankie shrugged, taking the fact she was awake as a sign of consent to turn her lamp on, giving her the light she needed to untie her boots. "Have you met the new Captain?"

"Who, Rosenthal? No. Why?"

She didn't answer for a long moment, buttoning up her pyjama shirt before flicking off the lamp, plunging the room into total darkness as she climbed beneath the blankets, letting out a satisfied sigh at the warmth.

"He's nice."

George let the silence simmer for a moment, her tone laced with suspicion. "... Right."

#masters of the air #mota #masters of the air fic #masters of the air oc #rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal x oc #john egan #ken lemmons #curtis biddick #oc: frankie #oc: george #fic | i'm your man #robert rosenthal

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xxxdegenerate · 10 months

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Hiya! I saw you're in need of requests!

Ok one piece. Luffy. He is always for weird New people who Peaks his interest

Sooooo. Magician! A real life magician! He would freak out 🤣

The Crew wary, thinking she would hex them or use them to practice curses or other morbid stuff but she is just so sweet! She helps the Crew with her magic, like Chopper or sanji introduce him magic plants he can use for cooking etc. Luffy is more than happy to have her and when Marines come, ready to attack, she just Flicks her hand and the ship gets destroyed in one go, humming before returning to her previous task 🤣🤣

Pls! You would make my day!

I love writing OP reader, and I don't even know why. THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST. (it's acc cool as fuck to imagine this)

Luffy x Magician!Reader

❥note ;; Magician? Hell yee, I feel like I could have done better, or maybe I will write an actual story about this, because it seems really interesting!

❥tw ;; Fighting, cursing // not proofread

You walked the trail on the island you grew up in. Wearing a cape, with some gloves and a hat. The sun was setting and the breeze was calm. You were the odd one out, but that didn't stop you from having a little fun.

You waved your hand around, causing leaves around you to float about. You smiled as you lifted them up into the air. Going in circles before making various shapes.

All of a sudden, big explosions were sounded in the town just ahead. Now as much as you hate this town, and the pirates that accompany it. You rushed over, using your powers to push yourself faster.

Upon arriving, you noticed the towns people and the pirates were in a heated fight. You looked around, trying to figure out why. You snapped your fingers and some cards appeared into the air, surrounding you.

"Ah the weirdo decides to join in hah?" The captain of the lowlife pirates. You rolled your eyes and turned to face the woman. "What are you doing with the town?" You noticed how the houses were getting torn down and fights happening all around. You also happened to notice someone whiz past you and a loud laugh.

Although you decided to shake that off and keep your attention on the lady. "Just finally taking what is ours."

You flicked your hand and cards went towards her. Blowing up.

She coughed and whipped out her sword. "Two can pl-" She was tackled to the ground and a black haired boy with a strawhat sat on top of her. "What-" You choked out.

One of her crew?

You haven't seen him around here, so he must be. You flicked your hand and the two of them go flying. "Weeeee!" You heard the boy laugh.

"Who are you?" A voice, from behind you. You turn around as one of your cards stop at his neck. You narrow your eyes.

"Why are you tearing apart this town." You demanded an answer.

He tilted his head in response as he took a bite out of the chunk of meat he somehow got. "Tearing? AH woah! Your hat!" He looked confused before pointing at your hat in surpise.

"I have one too! Yours is different." You shook your head and turned around, throwing some of the other pirates off of the people.

"Woah! How do you do that?" You deadpan at the boy who followed you around.

"Are you apart of this fight or not?"

"Join my crew!"

"No! You're ruining this town!"

"No were not, that's not my friends." You were confused, you decided to just blast some smoke and go back towards the fight.

Soon, a pile of pirates sat in the center of the town. Smoke and fire erupting around. "Y/n! You did it again!" The elder lady came and thanked you.

You looked around at the town, meeting the eyes of the boy from earlier. He held a wide smile on his face. "That was cool! Join my crew."

"Who are you?"

"Luffy! I'm going to be the king of pirates."

"Sorry dude, but me and pirates do not get along." You were hesitant.

"Come with me!"

This went on for awhile, as you used your magic to held rebuild and clean the area up, he followed you like a lost dog. Watching in awe and standing on some of the broken bits of wood you would raise in the air. He was starting to get on your nerves.

You pull the wooden plank towards you with Luffy on it. "Okay, what do you want?" He smiles widely at you as he has all day. "You're cool! I want you to join me. You'll love it." He giggled.

You scratch your neck before moving him away. He seemed nice, and he did help you get rid of the pirates. But he was also a pirate.

He stretched his arms and pulled himself towards you, crashing into you.

The two of you rolled before you landed a couple feet away. "Dude-" You grabbed at him and pulled his arm, which stretched. "Okay, that's a little weird."

"Pleaseeeee."

Deciding that he would probably not take no for an answer you decided to follow him to his ship. You could either get kidnapped, killed, or worse. You knew you had this in the bag though. "If you try anything I'm teleporting away."

He laughed in response as you somehow finally reached the boat. "Didn't we pass this like an hour ago.." He launched the two of you up into the center of the ship.

"Luffy! Why did you take off! You've been gone all day!" An orange haired girl scolded Luffy. A few others appeared and started complaining. "Who is this?" A blonde man appeared next to you with a rose.

"This is.. uh."

"Y/n."

After meeting everyone they seemed very weary of you. Luffy described what you could do and they looked hesitant. They haven't seen you in battle, but they don't doubt Luffy.

"She's our new crew member!"

"When did I agree to that!!?"

You bicker back and forth for a hot minute. This man acted like a child and it made you fume. You flicked your hand and hit him on the head with a rock. Not toooooo hard, and not like it would hurt him anyone. He fell down and laughed. "Look isn't that cool."

The others around you sweatdropped and were clearly on edge.

"H-hey guys.." The long nosed dude pointed to a ship that was nearing, quickly.

While still arguing with Luffy about joining, you flicked your wrist towards the ship. The ship erupted. Pieces of wood flying and people yelling and jumping overboard. The crew watched in awe

"You are a bad influence! I am not joining your crew!" He giggled at your reaction. You shake your head and turn around, heading to jump off of the ship. Acting like taking that ship down was nothing to you. "H-hey wait.. are you sure you don't want to join?" The girl from earlier had stopped you.

You narrow your eyes. Did you really want to join a pirate crew? You looked back and see a little reindeer chasing Luffy around. "You're hurt! Stop running around!" Your eyes dart to the side, seeing the blonde serve drinks to another lady.

"Ah fuck it."

EXTRA:

Over the past week of being aboard the Sunny. It was a new experience, and you hate to admit you enjoyed these pirates. They were... fun. You helped around the ship, soon they became your family. You helped Sanji and showed him new things, for cooking. You even entertained Usopp and Luffy with your magic.

You were beginning to like the pirate life.

#one piece fluff #one piece scenario #one piece headcanons #luffy #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy #op #x reader #fluff #Straw hats #Nami #Zoro #Sanji #Robin #Chopper

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taizi · 10 months

Note

could you write something about the crew saving sanji from captivity, like maybe he was caught by marines or somthing, and they hadnt been feeding him, and the crew gets to cook for sanji for once or something like that?

It made sense that they would run into a halfway intelligent Marine grunt sooner or later.

“You don’t fight with your hands much,” he said, opening the file on the table in between them. “Weak arms? Nah, I’ve never heard of a sailor with weak arms. There must be another reason.”

He wasn’t anyone special. Sanji was familiar enough with the uniforms by now to tell at a glance that he wasn’t decorated the way the real heavy hitters were. Chief Petty Officer, maybe. Warrant Officer at best.

Sanji was a Straw Hat. He wasn’t going to break a sweat for anyone less than a Vice-Admiral. He made sure to say as much, to clear up any misunderstandings. The officer didn’t appreciate hearing it for some reason.

He put out a hand without looking up from the file. A guard by the door stepped forward and placed something in his palm.

It was a ball-peen hammer.

“You’re the cook. That’s why you protect your hands. You wouldn’t have a place in that famous crew of yours if you lost those.”

“Well, you’re partly right, at least,” Sanji admitted. “For someone stupid enough to spectacularly piss my captain off, that’s far more than I expected.”

The extraction team arrived in the form of an unhinged skeleton and a six-foot-tall reindeer that tossed his knife-point antlers hard enough to put a decent-sized hole in the doorframe, but only after two fingers were mangled on Sanji’s right hand and one was freshly broken on his left.

The officer whirled around at the sudden appearance of uninvited company—surprised for just a moment, and then gray-faced with fear.

“About time,” Sanji snarked, and wrenched his shackled hands hard enough that the chain links binding him to the floor snapped. He stood, stretched his spine, and flicked a disinterested look at the Marine officer, who went melting towards the back of the room on legs that wobbled like jelly. Disregarding him, Sanji added, “Did Robin have time to get those files she wanted? I stalled for ages.”

For a beat, neither of his nakama answered him. Then Brook’s jaw made a cracking noise like a gunshot, the way it does when he’s grinding his teeth, and Chopper shrieked, “Your hands!!”

Sanji glanced down at them. “Oh, yeah. Our mutual friend over there wasn’t very creative.”

It hurt like a bitch, but it was far from the worst thing he’d ever felt. If it had gone much further, he might have seriously considered deviating from the plan, but a few broken bones? His brothers used to do that just for fun.

Brook tossed his guitar over his shoulder, where it hung against his back by the strap looped across his chest, and withdrew his sword instead.

“I can be very creative,” he said, sing-song.

“We’re leaving!” Chopper proclaimed, and herded Sanji toward the door with his antlers. Sanji went, amused by the pushiness.

It’s much less amusing an hour later, when his fingers are splinted and wrapped carefully, and Chopper tells him in no uncertain terms that he’s banned from work until Chopper’s satisfied with how they’ve healed.

Sanji agrees easily, because Chopper is equal parts adorable and terrifying when it comes to the health and safety of their family. But when he slips into the galley to begin preparing supper, the reindeer is right on his heels, scolding, “Sanji! That’s work!”

“Hardly,” he scoffs. Then, “Wait, are you serious?”

Chopper throws up his little hooves, as exasperated as any healthcare professional four times his age. “Why would I joke? Your bones are broken. Put down that spatula or I’ll scream!”

Sanji puts down the spatula. He’s never felt this wrong-footed before in his life. What does one do in a kitchen they aren’t allowed to cook in? He shifts his weight and looks sideways at the pantry.

“Oh my god,” Nami says. She points at the table. “Sit.”

“This feels kind of absurd,” he says.

“So it’s completely on-brand, then,” Usopp says, frog-marching him to a chair. “Good to know.”

Sanji lets himself be bullied with a scowl, and tucks his hands under the table where they can’t get him into any more trouble. Zoro, from the other side of the table, snorts into his tankard. Carrot drapes herself over Sanji’s shoulders, faux-sympathetic, but her chest rumbles with subvocal animal laughter. Franky and Jimbei are grinning openly.

It’s not funny. It’s time to eat. After all that action, their bodies need to replenish nutrients. They need carbs and proteins. He could at least be making smoothies while everyone argues with him—he can multitask!

Luffy, whose face has been a thundercloud ever since they returned to Sunny, leaving the Marine base actively on fire in their wake, brightens suddenly.

“I got it!” he announces, and that’s his trainwreck tone of voice. The very familiar, always inevitable, ‘you can try to stop me but it’ll just end in tears if you do’ tone of voice. Sanji braces himself, but nothing could have prepared him for Luffy cheerfully declaring, “We’ll make dinner!”

“Uh, no,” Sanji says quickly.

“Captain’s orders,” Robin says peacefully.

She was angry with him before—in that careful, soft-spoken way she gets angry with her nakama that always leaves them feeling lower than dirt—for letting himself get hurt in even this unremarkable capacity. But now she meets his eyes with a smile that only the people aboard this ship are privileged to see, and he fumbles his half of the argument before he even has a chance to make it.

Within that time, half his crew have migrated to the kitchen proper, and Nami is heaving open the huge recipe book that lives in place of pride on the counter.

“Hey, hey, Sanji!” Luffy yells. “What do you want to eat?”

“This is really unnecessary,” he says, shifting to stand. Carrot becomes deadweight on his back, dangling there like the world’s weirdest scarf.

“We’ll survive without five star food for a few days,” Jimbei says dryly. “If I were you, I’d answer their question before they take matters into their own hands and decide for you.”

In the kitchen, things are already rapidly devolving. There’s a lot of clamoring around and shoving of shoulders. This crew would never agree on anything they couldn’t argue about for hours first. Luffy clambers up onto Yamato’s back to get a bird’s-eye view of the recipe book, stretching an arm over Nami’s own shoulder to point out every dish that catches his eye. Yamato is a cheerful, agreeable jungle-gym, not even batting an eye when Luffy’s grip on one of his horns causes his head to tilt slowly to the left.

If Sanji had known letting that measly little officer play his shitty power games would end like this, he would have kicked the creep in the mouth hard enough to shut him up permanently.

He taps his bandaged fingers against his knees, frustrated and restless. Normally his friends’ stubbornness is weaponized against other people. He doesn’t like being on this end and he doesn’t understand why it’s happening.

“They want it to be special for you,” Zoro says suddenly, interjecting for the first time all night with that infallible wisdom he likes to pull out of thin air when it suits him. Then he takes another drink and adds, “God knows why.”

There’s nothing Sanji can do for a moment but stare at him. From the corner of his eye, he can see Robin and Jimbei’s knowing smiles, Franky looking as though he’s about to laugh. Carrot is still purring, tickled pink by the whole thing. All around them, Sunny shifts and groans as she bears them across the sea, and somehow it sounds like she’s in on it, too.

Sanji, who can’t remember the last time anyone cooked for him, refuses to feel touched. Honestly. This isn’t touching, it’s goddamn annoying—but he might as well let them have their fun, right?

“French toast,” he finally says. Not very loud, all things considered. But the anarchy in the kitchen comes to a sudden halt, and Luffy’s smile is bright enough to put that sun god lurking inside him to shame.

“With strawberries and cream,” he says importantly. “I remember! Sanji’s favorite!”

“Oh, that sounds good,” Yamato exclaims, still standing at a weird angle and unbothered by it. Next to him, Brook is imitating the pose, for no immediately apparent reason. “Do we have strawberries?”

“Strawberries!” Chopper yells, in what is either accord or a demand, and Usopp opens the fridge to investigate.

Sanji lets his chin sink into one of his hands, overseeing the chaos from his seat at the table. That itchy, uneasy feeling in his chest settles down. Now he just feels reluctantly fond.

He can’t help thinking about what the officer said to him back on the base.

Sanji is a cook, and he does protect his hands, but that’s the extent of what the self-important stranger got correct. Luffy would drag him back from hell if he died, so the idea of being cut free because his usefulness has expired is outright laughable. Sanji doesn’t need to secure his place here.

The reality is much simpler—providing food for the people that he loves is a privilege, one he doesn’t take lightly. It just honestly hadn’t occurred to him until now that the street goes both ways.

Dinner preparation takes twice as long as it should that night.

Somehow, it tastes twice as sweet.

#one piece #opfic #black leg sanji #tony tony chopper #nakamaship #my writing #op #prompt #anonymous #me pushing my french toast agenda #in my heart carrot and yamato joined the crew so thats why theyre both there #its canon to me and thats all that matters thanks for understanding #it isnt quite what u requested anon but i hope u like it anyway #food as a love language aka (one of) my ultimate weakness(es)

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callsign-phoenix · 8 months

Text

I wrote this as a part of my falltober fics, I hope you like it!

It is a Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace x gn!reader imagine.

Thank you @famfan-1034 for proofreading!

Day 24: Witchy

Warnings: smut (18+)

If you were honest you loved Nat in lingerie, but you generally liked to explore in the bedroom.

You had tried a lot of things, leather, latex, spanking and a few toys, all of which were fun to play with.

The two of you were quite open about what you were into with each other, which meant that you occasionally managed to pleasantly surprise each other.

With Halloween just around the corner you had casually dropped that you quite liked witches, the sexy version of them.

Nat simply grinned quietly and you knew she was making a mental note for sometime later.

A few days later you returned from work to find Nat’s car already in the driveway, which was a surprise on its own because Nat was never this early.

When you entered the house you heard music play in the bedroom, and you followed it to find Nat sitting on your duvet.

She was wearing nothing but black lace, a garter belt, stockings and a witch’s hat, which immediately had you lick your lips.

You immediately stepped out of your shoes, moving towards Nat and reaching out to caress her cheek below the hat.

Your girlfriend was so beautiful herself but the lace just amplified her natural beauty.

It hugged her curves perfectly, her breasts protruding from the partly see-through material and you were almost sure you could see her areolas through the delicate material.

“Welcome home, baby,” she whispered, purposely fluttering her eyelashes, and you had to chuckle at how your breath caught in your throat.

You were so easy to manipulate when it came to her, and you already felt heat rise in your stomach and cheeks.

“Thank you for the welcome, baby,” you answered.

You moved in to lower your lips to hers, caressing the sides of her face as your lips moved against each other.

Any time Nat kissed you you felt like your brain was deprived of oxygen.

You always felt high on her love, but she had reassured you that she felt just the same.

You were on your knees before you knew it, kissing down between her breasts and her stomach until you met the edge of her panties, looking up at her and earning a gentle whimper in return.

It made your heart flutter so you allowed your hands to follow their instinct, roaming from her bra down to her panties and dipping inside.

You watched as she bit her bottom lip in response, trying to keep quiet while you played with her.

Pulling down her panties you left a salve of kisses on the inside of her thighs, until you reached her core.

You craved to taste her so you dove right in, receiving an almost obscene moan as she threw her head back, knocking the hat she was still wearing off her head.

Her moans as well as the restricted airflow as she wrapped her thighs around her head made you lightheaded, and you lost yourself in her taste and the sounds she made.

You could feel her twitch around you and every twitch felt like a praise to you.

You loved tasting her so much so that you did it often, and you had had a lot of practice on her.

You knew exactly how to flick your tongue to earn loud moans and how to work her to an orgasm.

You did so expertly and Nat once again threw her head back as she reached her peak, arching her back as her beautiful dark hair spilled onto the mattress.

She dug her nails into your shoulders and you pulled up for air briefly, leaving her time to recover as you made your way back up her body, kissing along her navel and valle of her breasts until you reached her lips.

She was beautiful and in her blissed out state she was nothing short of mesmerizing.

After a few seconds Nat rolled you over so she was on top, a daring grin spreading over her face as she let her hands roam over your body.

“Imagine what magical things I can do for you. It’s time for the season of the witch,” she chuckled, and you just leaned back and relaxed.

tagging: @starkleila @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @letsfvckingdance @blindedbystars @katesmadness @yespolkadotkitty @whateverbagman @neptunes-curse @sweetheartlizzie07 @top-gun-rooster @iloveprettyboysblog @ateliefloresdaprimavera @imjess-themess @littlebadariell @angstyjellybean @marchingicenotes7 @midget713 @supernaturaldawning @gspenc @adorephina @gigisimsonmars @harper1666 @bespinnn @red1culous @malindacath @aerangi @kassieesworld @kwanimations @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @marvelandotherfandomimagines @eggscrambler84 @mavericksicybabe @kendra-rose @desert-fern @mavrellover91 @allivingstone01 @rhettabbotts @withakindheartx @trikigirl271 @cherrycola27 @tamix44 @bonitanightmxres @ratcatcher2world @glowingtree @wingmanvenus @oliviah-25 @natasharomanoffisbaebby

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#natasha phoenix trace x you #natasha phoenix trace x reader #natasha phoenix trace imagine #natasha phoenix trace #natasha trace smut #natasha trace x you #natasha trace imagine #natasha trace x reader #natasha trace #phoenix top gun #top gun phoenix #falltober

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multifandomslxt · 1 year

Text

BLACK ROSES Pt. 2

Pairing: Mafia!Lee Jeno x Florist!Reader

Trope: Grumpy x sunshine

Genre: Dark Mafia Romance

Word Count: 2K (i think)

Synopsis:

Lee Jeno is a dangerous man. From going on k!lling sprees for fun to torturing and k!lling his own father. He does it all. In short Lee Jeno is the devil.

Y/N is a florist. She's as pure as they come. Nothing exciting ever happens in her life and she’s okay with that. In short Y/N is an angel.

He was bad and she was good. They were complete opposites.

…Or so they thought

Get your tissues for this one. It's gonna be one hell of a ride

Warnings for this chapter: Mentions of drugs, g*n violence, illegal dealings.

*(((((A/N: you guys enjoyed the first chapter so I shall continue this. Enjoyyyy<3333))))*

Flower of the day (Pay attention to these...they're a clue): The Echinacea is a flower that is very beautiful. Echinacea flowers are often associated with health and healing.

'Dry hump him' my conscience screamed at me

'Absolutely not.' I screamed back.

I had no idea what to do in this situation,

He was still staring at me

I was still staring at him

Just back up and pretend as if nothing happened, I thought.

Okay, back up on three

One

Two

Thr-

Suddenly he stood up straight and flicked his wrist and checked his watch

"Peonies. I came here for peonies, where are they?" he asked

My mind was still in shambles but thankfully I managed to answer

"They aren't here right now. The delivery guy should be here soon so if you'd like to wait then I-"

"I don't have time to wait I'm a busy man and you're wasting my time" he interrupted

'I'm a busy man blah blah blah' I mentally mocked him

"Well then leave." I rushed out

" Leave? Nobody speaks to me like that. I need the peonies. Where are the fucking peonies?"

Damn, his attitude changed real quick.

"This is a shitty establishment you have here" he grunted

I gasped "shitty?"

Did he just call Izzy's 16-year-old business...shitty?

"Sir, first of all, you said that you were a busy man so I simply suggested for you to leave. Secondly, I explained to you the reason why we don't have your peonies, and thirdly if this is what you call a shitty establishment then it is clear as day to me that common sense is not your virtue now take your arrogant, self-centered, ill-mannered self out of this 'shitty establishment." I finished

"You cle-"

He was interrupted by the chiming doorbell- Ricky and Izzy walked in

Thank God

Wait...

Izzy?

"Good mornin' Y/N, how's it goin'?" Ricky called out

Thank you Rick ,I was beginning to run out of comebacks

"I'm good Ricky T, how's the wife?" I asked

"Still as stubborn and wild as the day we met" he laughed while placing the boxes of flowers on the floor.

"Goodbye m'ladies" he tilted his hat and left

"Bye Rick"

"So what, you just forgot I was standing next to him?" Izzy interjected

I rolled my eyes playfully " Izzy you're not supposed to be here, what did the doctor say?"

She smiled halfheartedly "don't worry about what the doctor said love, it's nothing serious"

Knowing her, it wassomething to worry about

"M'kay" I answered shortly.

"The peonies, I need the peonies" A voice spoke from my left

Damn, I forgot he was here

I got up and made my way toward the boxes Rick had previously put down.

"Peonies" I mumbled while looking through the stack of boxes

"Ah ha" I said when I found them

I took out two dozen and made my way to the backroom to fix it up

Two minutes later I was behind the computer confirming hi- I mean Mrs. Lee's order with the flowers in hand.

"Here you go" I said as I handed him the bouquet

He grabbed it from my hand, placed a hundred-dollar bill on the counter and walked out bumping shoulders with Izzy in the process.

"Who was that?" Izzy asked as soon as he left.

"That's Mrs.Lee's son, I thought you knew that" I said

She gasped in disbelief "You mean that was little Nono?"

Nono?

"Jeno" I corrected

"Oh my goodness. He's changed, he didn't even recognize me" Izzy rushed out

"He's rude and arrogant" I tattled on him hoping to darken the good light Izzy happened to see him in.

Should I tell her he called the shop a shitty establishment?

"He's always like that with new people dear, don't take it to heart" she said while handing me a box of orange mocks

A pretty flower with an ugly meaning.

Deceit.

"He's exactly like it y'know" I stated

"Like what?" she asked

"The flower, the orange mock. He's handsome and all dressed up on the outside but his attitude, personality and meaning behind his words are ugly." I said as I placed the box on the bottom shelf

"Maybe that's what he wants people to think, orange mocks can also mean gentleness." she uttered.

After Jeno left we continued our day as we normally would

Uneventful and void of extremely suspicious handsome men.

"Alright Izzy I'm heading out now" I shouted out

"Alright love see you tomorrow. OH, before I forget here's some lasagna I made last night" she said forcing the bag into my hands.

"Thanks Izzy" with that I made my way through the door.

The first thing I realized after stepping through the door was that it was fricking cold.

"Shit I should've brought a jacket" I muttered while rubbing myself down in an attempt to get warm.

With a sniffle and a sigh, I made my way down the lonely street.

Some time along the walk, I started humming randomly while swinging the plastic bag with the container of lasagna.

I continued to hum enjoying the quietness of the area.

I loved quietness...I had time to think then.

Of course, the first thought that came up was one of Jeno.

That brat.

It had been three days since Jeno (Nono) had come and caused a ruckus in the shop.

Three days since I wanted to dry hump a human being within the first five minutes of meeting them.

"I hope Mrs. Lee got her flowers in good shape" I suddenly spoke aloud

For some reason, Jenno looked like the type of person who couldn't care less about flowers.

I wonder if he's married...no I didn't see a ring on his finger

Maybe a girlfr-

BANG

Two loud gunshots made me stop in my tracks.

What the fudge?

Did someone just get shot?

This was New York it's not uncommon to hear gunshots at night. Because of where I lived I heard them regularly, but.....from a distance (two blocks down).

But these...these sounded like it was right around the corner.

I shut my eyes tightly while mentally screaming at my legs to turn around and run.

they didn't

I couldn't

I was scared

'Can you please work? I don't want to die' I mentally screamed at my legs

"Cain answer the fucking question where the fuck is the Pearl" An unfamiliar voice spoke in a hushed tone

"Fuck" I cried quietly.

I was right, it was around the corner.

"L-listen I did what you asked me to. I left it at the docks I swear. When I went back to check on it.... I-it was g-g-gone" The man who I assume to be 'Cain' cried

"so you lost it" another voice from the previous two spoke.

"I- I didn't mean to" Cain bawled

"The fuck do you mean you didn't mean to? that was 10 million dollars worth of c*caine"

C*caine?!

OH HELL NO

I need to run

I need to run right now

'You've been saying that for a while now' my conscience snapped

"당신은 쓸모없는 똥입니다."

"W-wait just give me another chance I'll get it back" Cain begged

one of the bad men chuckled "And how do you expect to get 10 million dollars in 24 hours 암캐."

This time Cain didn't answer

It was silent for about two minutes before one of the bad men said something

"그를 죽여."

Then I heard a gun cock

"Please, I have two daughters...I'm the only thing they've got left. Don't do thi-"

BANG

Three shots.

"마약을 잃기 전에 생각했어야지"

I screamed and covered my ears

"Help " my voice shook.

My head hurt

My ears felt like they were bleeding

My knees buckled

And my chest felt like it was going to explode

"Who's there?" a voice called from the corner

I held my breath trying to stay quiet... but it was way too late

Suddenly quick footsteps slapped the pavement

They were running towards me and for the first time that night, my legs listened to me and turned around.

I made it three steps before I ran into a chest

I gripped onto the stranger's clothes not caring to lookup

"Please... please help...I'm scared" I sniffled

"I don't want to die." I finished still gripping the stranger's shirt

Suddenly cold fingers gripped my chin and made me look up...

"Help me please" I whispered suddenly tired

The unknown person sucked in a breath

"씨발"

The last thing I heard before I passed out.

....................

"Madam please wake up"

"Madam?" the unfamiliar voice continued

"Ughh... five more minutes " I begged

"Madam your breakfast is going to get cold" the voice reasoned

"For fuck sake can you stop calling me madam and let me sleep" I responded annoyed.

these damn roommates of mine are gonna be the death of me.

Wait.

Roommates?

Since when do I have roommates?!

I don't have roommates...I live alone!!

My body immediately shot up and my eyes were now open wide as I stared at the woman in front of me.

"Finally you're awake madam" she smiled

"WHO THE HECK ARE YOU!?"

168 notes · View notes

seasonsbloom · 2 years

Note

ROMEO with cowboy!hangman prompt “is that my shirt” & “Use your words, baby.” PLEASEEEEE

♡ pairing ; cowboy ! hangman x female!reader

♡ wc ; 740

♡ warnings ; 18+ only, minors do NOT interact; explicit language, semi-public sex, some dirty talk

♡ note ; dime store cowboy universe, but can be read separately. sorry I got carried away. I swear these two have like an exhibitionism kink idk either.

Jake corners you in the hallway to the bathroom.

In the living room, champagne flows freely in golden cascades, bubbles popping in the delicate crystal glasses. People mingle, talk, flirt, act coy. A trickle of music drifts over, a string quartet performing pop hits that tell you the hostess - some girl you loved in high school and barely know now - has watched too much Bridgerton.

It’s dark here, and Jake’s eyes gleam like burning coals. “Is that my shirt?”

You glance down at yourself, even though you know the answer perfectly well. Your heart has jumped up into your throat.

“Maybe,” you concede and look at him from beneath half-lowered lashes.

This seemed like a great idea earlier. Jake had been so nervous about the whole thing, about trying to fit himself into the mold of your old life for a night, into a world he didn’t know and you no longer recognized. He’d agonized over it - scared people would think he was a hillbilly, scared they’d make fun of him or wouldn’t take him seriously. So earlier, in your hotel room, you’d seen the blue button-down he’d worn on your first date in his suitcase, and you hadn’t even thought twice about it. Had made a snap decision and ran with it.

Now the shirt works as your jacket for the night, fitting over the tight dress you wear beneath. It smells like him, like his cologne and that underlying scent that’s just him. It’s that, mixed with the champagne you had, that sends tingling warmth through you. All that and the way he’s looking at you.

“I would have worn your hat, too,” you say, leaning against the wall, perfectly aware of what you’re doing, “but I don’t think we ever would have made it out the front door.”

Jake gives you a long, hard glance, something burning in his eyes, and then he’s moving.

“Damn straight,” he says, reaching past you to open the door to the bathroom, to push you inside ahead of him. He flicks on the switch, and the fluorescents flutter to life, then locks the door.

His hand spreads wide and heavy on your stomach as he presses you backward. You go willingly, without breaking eye contact even for a second, your heart racing and your mouth dry. Your back hits the marble of the sink.

Jake is watching you so intently your breath catches somewhere in your throat. Your brain starts fizzling out around the edges.

“You trying to rile me up?” he asks. His fingers travel from your stomach up your torso, between your breasts, then hit the planes of exposed skin on your chest. Goosebumps rise in the wake of his touch, your pulse jumps when he presses his thumb into the dip between your clavicles. “Is that what this is, sugar?”

“No,” you whisper, because you weren’t. Honest. Quite the opposite, you were trying to put him at ease. That’s what you want to tell him, want to explain, but Jake’s leg parts your thighs, presses against your core at the same time that his lips find the side of your jaw, and words elude you.

“If I put my hand in your panties now,” he whispers against your skin, his mouth parting and his breath hot, the rasp of his beard sending shockwaves down your spine, “I bet you’d be dripping for me already, wouldn’t you?”

You whimper, press yourself more firmly against his thigh, chasing the relief of pressure against your clit. At this point, you’re barely registering his words anymore, head spinning, legs spreading, weight bearing down.

Jake pulls back just an inch or two, but you feel the separation like a pang in your chest. Using his thumb and forefinger, he tilts your head back, one eyebrow raised. If his breath wasn’t going as quick as it is, you could almost believe he is entirely unaffected.

“Use your words, baby,” he says, his voice soft but demanding. His thumb finds your lower lip and tugs it away from your teeth. “Are you wet for me?”

You exhale a shuddering breath, mouth chasing his finger, head reeling, stomach swooping. “Yeah,” you admit, somehow dredging up words out of the sludge of your mind, “for you.”

Jake grins. “Good girl,” he says, and then, finally, he kisses you.

Okay. Maybe you were trying to rile him up. Just a little.

It’s not like the result isn’t mutually beneficial or anything.

#hangman fic #hangman x reader #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #hangman #mine #drabble #hangman drabble #hangman smut #top gun smut

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disasterbiwriter · 5 months

Note

You may have seen me obsess over this before, but... Luke tries to teach Jess how to play baseball, because "every boy likes baseball, right?" And it doesn't go very well. 😆

The Diner Dudes and the Bad Hop

Part I

Lorelai is bussing a table when Luke clatters down into the diner, and as she looks up and takes him in, it's clear she's trying not to laugh.

"What?" Luke demands. "What?!"

"Nothing, I just didn't know you realized you could wear those things with the brim to the front." She reaches up and gently flicks the brim of his ancient Mets cap.

"Knock it off." What does it say about him that even that miniscule degree of contact with her sends his stomach into somersaults?

"Sorry, sorry." She looks him over once more, from the hat down to the scuffed up Slugger hanging at his side. "So, you're really going to go through with it?"

"'Course," he says. "He's excited."

Her face is soft. "Of course he is. He loves to take the trash out if it means you're with him."

"It's going to be fun," Luke insists. "All boys love baseball."

"Right right." She snaps and points at him, cheeky. "Hey, do you think he'll put whatever he's reading down long enough to hit the ball, or are you thinking the reading material will be thick enough to be a stand-in for the bat?"

Luke rolls his eyes. "Are you in overtime yet?"

"Maybe."

"Go home."

Part II

"All right, bud, remember what I told you?"

Six-year-old Jess is vibrating with excitement. "Yep!" He ticks the items off on his grubby fingers. "Keep my eye on the ball. Don’t swing at anything below your shoulders or anything higher than your knees."

"Er, close. It's actually - "

"And quit when it starts to feel like all the baselines are running uphill."

Luke scratches his head. "Did... I don't remember telling you that last one."

Jess scrambles for the backpack he slung off along the first baseline and pulls out a pristine library book. "Babe Ruth’s Baseball Advice," he announces proudly. "Mrs. Gilley ordered a copy of it for the library when I told her you were gonna teach me baseball."

Mentally Luke runs through a catalogue of sayings attributed to the Big Bam and makes a mental note to remind Mrs. Gilley that Jess is still in elementary school. "All right, put the book down, let's get to it, kid!"

"I'm ready, Uncle Luke!" With comedic effort he hefts the bat over one shoulder and readies himself behind the plate.

"Uh, honey? Try taking the mitt off when you bat."

"You got it, Uncle Luke!"

Part III

"Jess, I think you'll probably have more luck if you open your eyes when you swing."

"Good idea, Uncle Luke!"

"Jess, honey, that's third base, not first."

"But we read left to right! Why do we run right to left?!"

"I, uh... I don't actually know the answer to that."

"That was better! Try running towards the ball instead of away from it next time!"

"What if it lands on my head and cracks it open like an egg?!"

"No, I'm definitely sure there are only three bases, kiddo."

"Chuck Presby says there are twelve, and if you miss any of them they make the umpire put you in JAIL!"

"But are you sure?"

"Look, sweetheart, I know I told you I don't actually know everything about baseball, so I guess it's possible... But I'm telling you, I don't think there has ever been a baseball player who was also a bank robber. And you've gotta stop listening to anything that Presby kid tells you, he's an id - he's just teasing you."

"Uncle Luke! We forgot the wickets!"

"No, Jess, there are no wickets in baseball, that's cricket."

"Uncle Luke! Uncle Luke! I hit it! I - oh no! Uncle Luke! Are you okay?!"

Part IV

Lorelai unearths a bag of peas from the diner's freezer and gently settles it against Luke's cheekbone. "Well, at least he hit it."

Luke glances over at the counter where Jess is wearing more ice cream than is getting into his mouth. He loves that little gremlin so much he might actually cry - or would, if any tears could escape his rapidly-swelling eye. "He certainly did. Baby's first bad hop."

"What on earth is a bad hop?"

"You know," Luke sighs, "ask me some other time. I think I'm done talking about baseball for the day."

"You got it. Need a beer, boss?"

"Make it two. Hey, didn't I tell you to go home?

"You want me to get you a beer or not?"

"Right, shutting up now."

Part V - Two Weeks Later

"And then," Jess says proudly, tapping the little square with his finger, "the guy hit a fly and got out at center field - so I put the 8 in his box Eight stands for center field, remember?"

Lorelai whistles over the scorebook, impressed. "That's so cool, kid. And you learned how to do all that today?"

"Yep." He spins a little on his stool, clutching the precious document carefully in both hands. "Uncle Luke says I picked it up faster than anyone he's ever seen."

"Well, that doesn't surprise me even a little bit."

"I think watching baseball is more fun than playing baseball." Jess beams at Luke as he comes out from the kitchen, Jess's dinner in hand. "Don't you think so, Uncle Luke?"

Luke sets Jess's plate in front of him and strokes his nephew's hair. "You know what? These days I think you're right."

#diner dudes #“I'm here Jess” AU #gilmore girls #jess mariano #luke danes #luke raising baby jess adorable family drama ensues #am writing #fanfiction #my writing #thank you for the prompt stella!#stella asks #Dedicated to my partner who fills out a scorebook at every baseball game he attends

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leaderpinhead · 8 months

Text

Floyd - Secret Math

"Wha’cha doin’, Shrimpy?”

Floyd draped himself across Shrimpy’s back. He giggled at her tiny grunt and balanced his chin on the top of her tiny head. He jabbed a finger into the center of her notebook. “You doing homework? Lame. Where’s the rest of the Shrimp Brigade?”

‘They had to stay behind after class because they set a pile of handkerchiefs on fire when they were supposed to use magic to fold them.” Floyd giggled at their misfortune. He tried to steal Shrimpy’s pencil, but she was really good at keeping it out of his hand. “Floyd, don’t start with me. I wanna finish this before Azul comes by and demands I order something other than water.”

Floyd released an exaggerated sigh that flattened the strands of hair on top of Shrimpy’s head. “That’s boring. What’s takin’ so long?”

“Do you see this?” Shrimpy jabbed her pencil into her paper. Floyd hummed and rolled his chin across her head, barely glancing at the jumble of numbers. “This is intense algebra. I can’t just wave my pencil and have it magically done.”

“Why not?” Floyd whined. He let his hands fall limply across the back of her wrists with the intention of luring her into a false sense of security. “Who cares about math? No one ever uses it.”

“Azul would immediately have a stroke if he heard you say that.”

Floyd giggled. “Azul doesn’t need math to count all his thaumarks.” His left hand lunged forward to grab her pencil. A tiny growl came from Shrimpy, which only made Floyd laugh more. “Just put the answers and be done with it.”

Floyd quickly scribbled the answers across the page and threw the pencil onto the table. “Done! Now come play with me, Shrimpy.”

“There’s no way those are correct.”

“You don’t trust me?” Floyd huffed when Shrimpy’s answer was to pick up the pencil again and start scribbling out one of the problems. He flopped over onto the bench across from her and dragged his hat down over his face. “You’re no fun today.”

Shrimpy didn’t say anything. Floyd had almost drifted off into a nap when she made a tiny sound. “How?”

He nudged the brim of his hat just to glance at Shrimpy’s knees under the table. “How what?”

“It’s right.” Shrimpy tapped her pencil against the table. “How did you get these right? You just wrote all the answers without showing any work.”

Floyd slowly sat up. “You wanna know how I did it?”

Shrimpy kept tapping her pencil and glaring at her notebook. “Yes.”

A slow smile stretched his lips. He leaned across the table separating them. His fingers danced across the edges of her notebook. “You really wanna know?”

Her eyes flicked up to him. The ambient light of the Mostro Lounge cast purple shadows across her face. “Yes.”

Floyd placed a single finger against his lips. “It’s a secret.”

Floyd giggled when Shrimpy’s cheeks ballooned like an angry puffer fish.

#twisted wonderland #twstober #floyd leech #day 24 secret

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xxkitty13 · 6 months

Text

Vampire AU pt. 2

Lawlu- Vampire Law x Human Luffy

Law still can’t resist the lubooty :v

Previous -> Part 1 Next -> Part 3

NSFW, slight gore (descriptions of body dissection)

The next following days were like torture to Law. The straw hat boy would not leave his side. He wonders if it was the bite mark. It has healed now, but the pheromone venom has merged with his DNA. This would attach the "victim" to its mate. However, Luffy's attachment is much. . . different.

"Oi, Torao!"

"Leave me alone."

Law is in his laboratory, dissecting a specimen as Luffy spins around in a wheeled chair.

"When will we have lunch? I'm hungry," he pouts.

Law continues to ignore him. Everywhere he goes, the human will follow as well. He can't even concentrate on his work. Luffy sees that the vampire is not responding. He goes to wrap his arms around him, tangling himself.

"Tsk, can't you see that I'm busy."

“But I’m starving,” he pouts again.

He looks over to see what Law is cutting open on the steel table. It fascinates him.

“Did you kill it?”

“Yes.”

He gasps. “Was he a human?”

“Maybe.”

“Why did you kill a human? Are you a murderer?”

Rolling his eyes, he answers his question. “He deserved it, he’s a piece of scum.”

Luffy wondered what the man did for the vampire to kill him. Law emits a good aura, so there must be a reason for his death. Not wanting to find out, he observes the opened cavity. Law proceeds to disembowel him and throws the wet intestines in a bucket. It grossed him out, almost ruining his appetite- almost.

“What’s the point of doing this?”

Knowing he wouldn’t stop; he continues to give him answers.

“Like I said before, I’m a surgeon. I continue my practice on human or animal cadavers. Whenever I see an opportunity to retrieve a specimen, I kill them. Fresh ones are ideal.”

He picks up the gall bladder and squishes it in his hand. “Sometimes I do it for fun.” He turns his gaze to Luffy, his lifeless eyes meet with his shinning ones.

The straw hat could feel the intensity in the room. He gulps, looking at the remaining tissue of the organ spill out the vampire’s tightened fist.

“Do you want to try?”

Luffy immediately shakes his head. This made him uneasy. Law scared him.

The vampire chuckles, amused at his reaction.

“Don’t worry mugiwara-ya, I won’t do this to you.”

He shakes what remained of the gall bladder and wraps the body up. The stretcher next the table is used to transfer what remained to the attached body. He transports the body to the freezer storage.

Law cleans the working station, with Luffy still wrapped around his body. He hums, rinsing the bloody mess with a hose. The water mixed blood drains to the floor. He picks the bucket filled with the intestines and takes it to the waste bin.

He removes the blood-stained gloves and throws them away. At the sink, he thoroughly washes his hands before flicking Luffy’s forehead.

“Ow.” He rubs his stinging forehead. “What was that for?”

“For bothering me.”

He proceeds to exit the laboratory and makes his way up to ground level.

“Why don’t you use your ability? It will take us to the kitchen faster.”

“This devil fruit power takes a lot of energy. It’s best that I walk.”

The human groans.

Enjoying the silence, Law walks to the kitchen. Luffy releases his stretched arms off of the vampire.

“Wait in the dinning room, I’ll meet you there.”

“Okay,” he grins, dashing away.

Luffy sits at the large dining table. The dark wood allows the red candles pop out. To the straw hat, the place is eerie and dreads of despair. It’s quite lonely, the darkness surrounding the castle adds to the solitary ambiance.

Lost in his trace of thoughts, Law appears with a cart filled with large trays.

“Eat up.” He places the food tray in front of Luffy and goes to sit at the opposite end of the table.

“Thank you!” Luffy beams with a smile before digging in. Law hides his small blush, watching the human enjoy the meal.

It amazed him. The appetite he holds is never ending. He liked seeing the human stuff himself till he reached his limit. His round form made him look cute. Something Law would not admit.

“Are you not going to eat?”

Law only hums in response. One of the reasons he gives Luffy so much food is to prepare him for his own feast. It wasn’t necessarily selfish as the human is required to eat in such quantities.

Luffy finishes his meal and becomes a round ball of flesh. The vampire laughs at his new figure.

“I never understand how that works.”

“I told you. I’m made of rubber. Everything stretches.”

Law gets up from his chair and rolls Luffy away from the dining room.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖౨ৎ.𖥔 ݁ ˖-`♡´-.𖥔 ݁ ˖౨ৎ.𖥔

Right before Law reached his destination, Luffy’s body returns to its normal size. The straw hat’s slim figure drops to the hard surface of the cold floor. Law goes to open the door in front of them and drags Luffy inside.

There he is met with the soft texture of carpet. The room lights turn on but leave a dim lighting. Inside the small room, a large round burgundy sofa is situated in the middle.

Law sits Luffy on the round furniture and removes his black coat, leaving it on a nearby chair. He walks to a closet and pulls out a box. He digs his hand inside and pulls out a studded collar.

As the vampire pulls out more items, Luffy stares at Law’s figure. His chest is fully exposed. More tattoos are revealed. The art intrigued the straw hat, his eyes trace each line over his toned abs.

Out of his peripheral vision, Law catches the human staring at his body. He smirks.

He walks up to him. “Show me your wrist.”

The straw hat obliges and feels rope tighten around his hands.

“Huh, what are you doing?”

“Binding you.”

With the rope in place, Law goes to get the collar.

“I’m not a dog. Don’t place that on me.”

The vampire ignores him and places the collar on his neck. He then proceeds to strip him of his clothes, the human trashes around.

“My hat!”

Luffy goes to kick him, but Law stops him, applying force to his grip.

“You don’t want to do that.” Red flashes from his eyes. The human stops, realizing what those eyes meant.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

Luffy shakes, completely nude before the vampire.

Law crouches to his eye level and grins. “You’ve been pushing my buttons all week. It’s time I discipline you.”

He gulps. Law hovers over him and makes him bend over. With his back arched, Law kneels behind him, staring at his small hole. His index finger slides down the opening, making Luffy shiver in response.

“Have you felt this sensation before, mugiwara-ya?”

The straw hat shakes his head, his face red from the touch.

“Are you curious to find out?” He smirks.

Law licks his finger and traces the rim of the hole with his wet digit. Luffy nods his head at the feeling.

“Good.”

Enticing him, he gently sticks his index finger inside. The warm flesh eagerly engulfs him. Luffy grunts at the foreign sensation inside of him. Law adds another finger, stretching him out some more.

“If I remember correctly, everything is able to stretch.”

The human eyes meet with Law’s dark ones. His red orbs frighten him.

A sudden cold object is felt at this entrance. The pointy thing is submerged inside of him.

"Torao!" he screeches. The coldness invades his body, stretching his walls as it enters. "I- I don't like how it feels."

With a single push, Law forces the butt plug in Luffy. He cries out, not necessarily from pain. Luffy looks back at the vampire with teary eyes, resting his face on his tied hands.

Law flicks the heart gem, letting the human hitch at the vibration.

"This will get you ready," he mumbles.

He smacks his ass, leaving a stinging print on his right cheek. The human yelps, confused at the violent actions of the vampire. He intently watches him, seeing a grin plaster on the vampire's face before moving away. Law stands before him nude, eyeing him down with hunger.

“Before I continue, I want you to beg for it.”

Law whips out his throbbing member. It stands tall, filled with blood, ready to feel Luffy’s walls engulf it in its moist warmth. He strokes his erection, wanting nothing more than to fill his insides.

Letting go of his cock, he flips Luffy onto his back and hovers over him. With one hand, he pins the tied limbs over the human's head.

"Mugiwara-ya, are you afraid?" he whispers in his ear, licking the pinna.

Unsure what to think, Luffy only gulps. Law chuckles sinisterly, nibbling on his earlobe. "You should be."

His tongue trails down his neck. Right over his jugular. His sharp canines rub against the soft skin. He can hear the blood pump through his blood vessels. The sound is lovely. The vampire sucks on the semi-salty skin, barely digging his teeth through. He leaves a nasty hickey and attacks another part of neck to leave his love marks.

Law sits up, his eyes gaze to Luffy's own erection.

"Cute."

His hand grabs the member, squeezing on it gently.

"T-torao-" he mewls.

He lets go of it, leaving Luffy intrigued of the new feeling. Law's head travels down his legs, kissing the tender thighs. His tongue licks the warm skin, making the human shiver.

He bites down on his left thigh, the blood drips down the leg. The vampire bites the other thigh and gently laps on the punctures. Luffy winces at each bite mark, feeling his blood ooze out.

The vampire licks the red liquid from his lips. He gives the human a toothy smile, his canines stained with blood.

“I want to taste more of you. Will you let me, mugiwara-ya?”

He goes down on him, caressing his balls. His tongue drags from the base of the shaft to the tip, running purposely over the slit. Luffy whimpers.

"W-what are you doing to me Torao? I- I don't know if I like it. . ."

Law chuckles softly at the words. "Oh, you're going to love it."

Excitedly, he takes Luffy's dick in his mouth.

"T-torao, what are you doing-"

He's careful not to cut him with his teeth as he bobs down on the shaft. The human brings his tied hands to grab Law's head, but the vampire looked at him with dark eyes. Luffy stops and rest his hands below his abdomen.

Law sucks on him faster, twirling his tongue over the sensitive tip. Luffy lets out soft moans, enjoying the slick tongue over his dick. Before Law could continue, a shot of hot cum is disposed in his mouth. He swallows all of it.

"That was quick. . ." He looks at the panting human. "Did you like that?"

Luffy nods, his rosy cheeks showing in the dim light.

"Well, it's not over yet."

Eager to begin the main event, his hard cock is placed over the human's soft one. He removes the butt plug from his hole and throws it across the room.

"We won't be needing that anymore."

He strokes himself a few times before he guides the tip of his member over the prepped hole. Now it begins, he pushed the tip through the entrance, slowly guiding himself inside. He already feels the warm walls tighten around him. He groans at the constriction.

"T-there's no way I can take that." Luffy pants out.

"You're made of rubber, remember? Everything stretches," he laughs quietly.

The vampire pushes in deeper, despite the plug, his insides are still tight. He does not complain, the sensation is blissful. It did not take long for his cock to enter completely. He hovers over the human, his forehead connected to his. The two lock eyes.

"I'm going to ruin you."

He winds back and thrusts with great force. Luffy arches his back at the sudden movement. It is slow, but painful. To Law, the clenching warmth felt amazing. He continues to pound his ass, picking up the pace as he goes.

"T-torao, sl-slow down."

"Huh? Go faster? Your wish is granted."

His hand wraps around his neck, squeezing with enough force, and begins to penetrate him deeply. Law huffs and puffs, letting himself go inside of Luffy. Each slap sounds off the room, combining with the sound emitting from their mouths.

The human starts to feel a certain spot ignite with pleasure. The vampire's hard dick hits his spot just right. He cannot contain his voice and becomes a moaning mess.

Luffy opens his teary eyes to see Law's bloodlust ones. The pressure on his neck, contained him down. His vision foggy from the overstimulation.

"T-torao," he barely makes out.

Law goes to his ears, grunting loudly next to him.

"S-say my name."

"T-torao. . ."

The grip on Luffy's neck tighten. "Say my name."

"T-"

Law squeezes harder. "Say it."

"L-Law!" Luffy moans out, panting in distress.

Law smiles. "Good boy." His grip on the neck loosens as he picks Luffy from the sofa.

Using his knees, he sits on the soft padding and fucks Luffy in his arms. In the new position, he's able to go deeper inside. "Fuck," he moans out, penetrating him harder.

He bites the human shoulder, feasting on his sweet blood. All Luffy could do is scream out from pleasure and agony. With his hands still tied, his arms laid between them awkwardly. He uses the little strength he has to break free. Luffy wraps his arms around the vampire's torso, holding on for support. Law bucks against him, making Luffy bounce up and down.

"L-law, it feels so good. . ." Luffy lays at the crook of neck. Salvia drools down his collarbone, hazy at the immense sensation.

It began to be too much for the vampire, the helpless whimper of the human is music to his ears. His core tightens and thrusts at an ungodly rate, his throbbing cock ready to bust. A wave of great pleasure is released from his member, the awaiting load leashing inside of Luffy.

He lets Luffy ride his orgasm out and the human came soon after. The cum splatters over their chest, the heat brings shivers to his spine.

Law lays Luffy down on the sofa and embraces him. He licks the bite mark on his shoulder, consuming the blood that remained. The human trembles in his arms, his body still processing the brutal pounding. Law pecks his temple and intertwines their hands.

"Are you okay, mugiwara-ya?"

Luffy nods, burying his face onto his chest. Law only chuckles at his response and holds him close. This warm hug is perfect, a feeling he has been longing for.

"Luffy.”

The human looks up at the vampire.

"I want to hold you forever."

He giggles, letting his arms wrap around Law. They snuggle each other and drift to sleep, drained from their hot session.

#one piece #lawlu #lulaw #vampire law #law x luffy #monkey d. luffy #trafalgar law

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rebelliousstories · 20 days

Text

Take You In Real Slow

Kiss Me You Animal

Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Zylia “The Freak” Shelley

Fandom: Fallout

Request: No

Warnings: Angst, Strong Language, Fluff, Mentions of Death

Word Count: 1,161

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

Previous Chapter// Next Chapter

Kiss Me You Animal Masterlist: Here

Summary: Finding an unlikely companion, Cooper can not help but to be amazed by the woman before him.

A deep breath left the woman as she leaned against the wall behind her. Zylia was trying to calm her racing thoughts but nothing seemed to work. The stare from in front of her caused her to consider her words very carefully. One wrong word, one wrong move, and she was a goner.

“My earliest memory was being inside of a chamber in a vault. Vault four. It was run by scientists and I was a test subject. I don’t really remember how long I was in the vault. But it was just full of pain and suffering.” Her eyes were downcast, unable to stare The Ghoul in his eyes.

“Day and night, I was poked and prodded. Blood taken, blood given. I don’t even remember when the change in me happened. But I remember the pain. It was unlike anything I had ever felt then or since. Whatever they did, it- it changed me. Forever. I’ve lost all sense of time, I crave blood, and without it, I think I die. I’m not sure.” Her explanation continued, while Cooper said nothing.

“They left my chamber unlocked one day by accident. So I took my chance and ran. I killed so many people just trying to escape, and I’m sure that makes me a bad person. But I’m trying to do better. All I want is peace and answers. That’s why when I escaped, I got my file. I’ve spent years trying to find someone to teach me how to read it, but no luck.” As she concluded her story, her hands fiddled with the stack of worn papers that were in her hands. There was a beat of silence, and it encompassed them both.

“Well, that is a mighty fine story there, little Dracula.” This caused the woman to look towards The Ghoul confused.

“What the hell is a ‘Dracula?’” Zylia tried to wrack her brain for anytime that she had heard that word, but came p empty.

“Somethin’ from before your time. Sounds like you got dealt a shitty hand though.” He commented, pushing himself off of the wall and coming closer to the woman. She remained against the wall, and looked cautiously towards him.

“I deal with it.” That was all she cold say.

“So, when you enter a fine establishment, that is just everywhere up here, do you need permission to enter?” Cooper teased, stepping into the woman’s bubble.

“The hell are you talking about, Ghoul?” She snapped. He tried to brush a hand through her hair but she slapped him away.

“What about a cross? If I have that or garlic, can I stop you?” Another remark. This time Zylia tried to shove Howard away from her, but he remained in his place.

“Are you just gonna make fun of me? You wanted a story, I gave you one. Now let me go.” Another shove and Cooper was out of the woman’s way. He stumbled back and held his hands up in defense while Zylia tried to navigate her way out.

“Hold on now, things were just gettin’ good. I’d hate to ruin the party now.” The man now blocked the entrance that they had stumbled through a few hours ago, which infuriated the woman.

“And why the hell should I stay? You’re just gonna make fun of me.” She countered, not liking the fact that a ghoul had taken a liking to her.

“Well, let’s just say you are the most interesting thing I have seen in these God forsaken Wastelands in about two hundred years. And now that’s a long time to go without a little bit of interest or entertainment.” Cooper drawled, flicking the edge of his hat.

“I don’t give a damn if you find me interesting. I’m not some whore you pay a few hundred caps to entertain you!”

This prompted a chuckle from The Ghoul. He was watching in amusement as the woman was getting fired up at him. She probably did not even realize that there was the barest hint of a flush to her cheeks, or that the veins on her face and body were becoming more and more prominent.

“What?” She screamed, leveling a glare towards the man. The sun outside was less boiling than before as it began to set.

“You’re adorable when you’re angry. Just a cute little vampire gettin’ all worked up.” He drawled.

“Well then I’m about real damn cute. Let me go.” Zylia tried to move around him, but he followed her every time. She would move to her right, and he would move to his left. Zylia tried to move the other way, and Cooper followed. Now, she was even more pissed off.

“Why aren’t you letting me leave,” came her yell. But there was an underlying pleading tone to it. Cooper began to open his mother’s to talk, but she just held up a hand to stop him.

“If you say because I’m entertaining, or anything of the sort, so help me. I will kill you right here, Ghoul.” She threatened, causing said ghoul to rethink for a moment.

“Well, you are interestin’, and therefore entertain’ to me. Or maybe I just like you sweetheart. Ever think of that?” He teased, finding joy in watching her fluster.

“Why are you being nice to me?” Finally, she asked. Cooper kicked around a can on the floor and looked out towards the setting sun. The sky was alight with vibrant shades of red, orange, purple, and blue.

“Can’t a fella just like a girl that seems even more fucked up than he is?” The drawl was back, which just made the woman groan.

“In this world? Hell no.” She barked. The Ghoul just chuckled as he watched. He was delighting in her frustration.

“So what is an appropriate answer for wantin’ to spend time with such an interesting young lady such as yourself?” He asked, walking closer to her once more. Zylia kept a scowl on her face as she answered.

“There isn’t one, asshole.”

Cooper chuckled as he saw the last rays of light disappear below the horizon. His head was turned, and he basked in the fleeting warmth of it all. There was not a word spoken between the pair as night took over. It was very difficult to see the other person without the light of the sun. But the moon started to trickle in following the same path that the sun was just in moments ago.

“Well, seein’ as we ain’t got no more light to make it safely across. Would you delight an old cowpoke like me with some company?” Howard began to settle himself in for the night, including starting a fire in the middle of the room. He shuffled the bodies out of the way and sat down next to the warming flames.

“You sittin’ down or goin’ vampire?” Zylia stood there, confused about what she was going to do with The Ghoul before her.

#rebelliousstories #writing #fallout #fallout imagine #cooper howard #cooper howard imagine #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul #cooper howard x oc #the ghoul x oc #the ghoul imagine #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul fallout #Kiss Me You Animal

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