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#shameless series end
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i’ll go see you again tomorrow (spring is coming to an end) ; sashisu
[ part 0 - first meeting ]
synopsis; the gradual blossoming of a youth shared with three strange classmates, at the weird, isolated boarding school you all attend. as the seasons of your first year together pass, the relationship between you changes into something you don’t need to put into words to understand.
word count; 1.6k
contents; sashisu/reader (but can be read as either platonic or romantic, or something inbetween!! i wrote it with the latter in mind), gn!reader, no curses au (dw they’re all still a little bit insane and damaged), very shoujo manga-esque, reader is a little bit in love with all their friends, just wholesome comfy vibes :), characters may be ooc but pls bear with me </3
a/n; this is the shorter opening piece of a sashisu/reader series i’m writing and the first out of six planned parts!! :> the rest will be much longer this is just me setting the tone. sorta. i’m extremely normal about sashisu and i wanted to write something summery and sweet so <3
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you first meet them in a sun-soaked classroom, with blue-tinted windows.
the room in question, clearly not having been of use for some time, is just a little dusty. enough that you notice it, nose scrunching up as your gaze trails over the space.
tiny specks of light dance around, meeting and intersecting between the gaps where streaks of sunlight fall and illuminate the floorboards. they’re oddly mesmerizing, a little hard to forget. the flicker of their movement begins to etch itself into your retinas; for some reason, you can’t quite take your eyes off them.
eventually, your attention is caught by something else, coaxing you into moving your gaze towards the translucent windows. they glimmer softly, tantalizingly in the sunlight, reflecting the blue of the sky. through the glass, it’s all you can see at first — a sky so blue that it’s a little irritating. big, white clouds are scattered like splotches of paint across a blue canvas, treading gently over the boundary of your vision. 
in a similar fashion, the ground of the schoolyard is littered with dots of white. for just a second, you delude yourself into thinking that it’s snow; it’s not until you spot the skeletal trees and their pale blossoms that you see them for what they are. soft petals flutter down to the ground eagerly, covering everything in a pure white. 
it really is eerily reminiscent of a snowy landscape, ephemeral in its beauty. it gives you the impression of having stepped over some sort of threshold, into another realm, another world entirely. coated in apricot blossoms, soaked in sunlight.
(it shouldn’t be possible from where you’re standing, behind the windows — but the scent reaches you all the same. everything smells of apricots.)
it’s springtime, and you’re in the prime of your youth. 
a youth you’re about to share with three other kids, all standing in front of you and wearing mildly indifferent expressions as you give each other a brief glance.
you try not to stare too hard, but it’s difficult to resist the temptation. three new classmates, mysterious and just slightly intimidating; two guys, and one girl. the tiny glances you steal at them aren’t very sneaky, but you doubt they’d care, when they’re all doing the same. 
you study their appearances, eager to sate the curiosity clawing at your heart.
the girl is pretty.
the expression on her face is laid-back, almost bored, and she looks a little like she doesn’t quite want to be here. her hair reaches down to her chin, just barely, brown and smooth and silky. estimating her exact height is a little tough; you can tell she’s fairly short, but you don’t know how much of it is exaggerated, courtesy of her placement between the other two. their lanky legs and broad shoulders only make her look smaller in comparison.
her eyes are chestnut-coloured, a little dim, somewhat hazy. there’s a mole under one of her eyes, too, and you’re acutely aware of how charming you find it. you’re relieved to have at least one girl in your class, anyhow. you hope she’s nice.
the boy on her right is pretty, too. 
he’s much taller, and wearing a somewhat serious expression, but something about him feels almost comforting all the same. he seems relaxed, but also sharp, as his eyes trail across the room. his hair is black and silky, and it’s long — or so you assume, judging by the fact that he’s got it in a bun. two things about him stand out in particular; one, the black gauges on his ears, and two, a single lock of hair framing his face. his hair is tied up and neat, prim and proper, with the exception of his bangs. you don’t think it looks bad, exactly, but it’s an odd choice.
at first glance, you think his eyes are black, but when a ray of sunlight falls across his face you realize that they’re brown. a deep colour, oddly soothing, warm. little sparks of amber glitter in the depths of his irises, illuminated only by the sun. it gives you the impression that there’s more to him than meets the eye.
then there’s the other boy. 
he’s the most intimidating out of the three, without a doubt, though you still can’t pinpoint exactly why. he strikes you as particularly unnerving; maybe it’s the expression on his face, that you can’t seem to identify. he’s also tall, very tall, even taller than the other guy — though only by a smidge. he towers over you slightly, and that unnerves you even further. there’s something in the way he’s standing that almost seems a little menacing. his hair is white, and soft, and just a tad messy. and he’s wearing a pair of round sunglasses, even though you’re indoors.
you can’t see his eyes well, behind the black glass, but you get the vague impression that they’re blue when sunlight cascades down the contours of his face and reflects in them.
you take another moment to simply look at them, observing them, as if trying to reach some sort of conclusion about what they’re like. it doesn’t really work, but you do get some semblance of an impression.
finally, your teacher clears his throat, breaking the silence of the classroom — urging you to hurry up and get the introductions done and over with. the impatient reminder snaps all four of you out of your collective trance.
the first person to speak up is the boy with the weird bangs. that alone gives you a sense of his personality; polite, proper, the first to do the thing no one really wants to do. 
”my name is suguru geto,” he begins, well mannered. ”it’s nice to meet you.” his voice is pleasant, somehow. nice to listen to. there’s something comforting about it, that you can’t quite place; it sounds almost familiar, like you’ve heard it all your life.
then, the cute girl chimes in, casual and unbothered as she fiddles with something in her pocket. ”shoko ieiri. just call me shoko,” she says, short and sweet. 
she really is pretty, you muse, bathed in the streaks of sunlight falling haphazardly across the room. and she seems nice, not uptight or obnoxious; the kind of person that’s easy to talk to, easy to be friends with. you think you like her already. but she notices your lingering stare, and so you look away, gaze falling to the floorboards.
finally, after a slight pause, the boy with the sunglasses speaks up. you still can’t get a good read on his expression. ”… satoru gojo,” is all he says, and you can’t seem to grasp his tone of voice, either. 
it irks you, though. you’re not sure why. you almost get the sense that he thinks he’s appeasing you, by introducing himself, like hearing his name is a priviliege. that, and you feel a little like you’re being dissected when his gaze falls on you — like he’s weighing your value, deciding your worth. you think you almost catch a glimpse of his eyes behind the black tint of his glasses, and they strike you as acutely menacing, bright blue and uncanny. you decide that you don’t like him, and that his sunglasses are kinda ugly.
their gazes fall on you, at last. 
you’re the only one whose name they don’t know, now. it’s a kind of power, in a way, the power of mystery. intrigue. their stares feel heavy on your skin, and you feel more than a little nervous; but you’re intent on following the silent cue, all the same. 
and you do so, dutifully, raising your hand up in a silent hello before tentatively saying your name. then, in a voice you hope doesn’t come across as bored or unpleasant:
”— it’s nice to meet you.”
some of them hum in affirmation, as if to say it’s nice to meet you too — others remain silent. even when the introductions are finished, you continue to look at each other, vaguely and discreetly, as if trying to look inside each other’s heads. 
but then your teacher begins to speak, in an authorative voice, and you’re snapped out of the trance, once more. 
he babbles on and on, about something you’re sure is important, something about the school and the classes you’ll be having and the dorms and so on. you try to listen, you really do, but it’s tough — you vaguely get the gist, but all you can really think about is your classmates, still so mysterious and intimidating.
you try to repeat their names, inside your mind, trying to ingrain them into your memory.
suguru geto, shoko ieiri, and satoru gojo.
you still don’t really know what to think about them. shoko will probably be fairly easy for you to warm up to, but the other two are a different story. all three of them seem to have strong personalities, reflected in their eyes; a dim hazel, a deep umber, and a stark azure. you don’t know what’s hidden in them, but you have a strange inkling that you will, in due time.
that’s how the four of you meet. and in this moment, as you look into their eyes for the first time, you have no idea how much your life has changed — how much they’ll change it for the better.
you only know that it’s springtime, and that you’re in the prime of your youth. 
a youth you’re about to spend with these three kids in front of you, who you know nothing about. some part of your soul urges you to find out, for yourself.
maybe you will.
(outside the sun-soaked classroom, through the blue-tinted windows, the world observes your meeting with bated breath and barely contained excitement.)
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part i
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charlieconwayy · 7 months
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Shameless Celebration ● [10/10] episodes ↳ Requiem for a Slut [7x12]
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ace-of-d1am0nds · 5 months
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i wrote this instead of doing work for finals week. dw abt it
prompt: habit
@galladrabbles @spacerockwriting
read pt.14
Relapse pt. 15
“I shouldn’t need to tell everyone my every habit every time I fuck up. It’s bound to happen. We’ve all got shit. Fuckin’ trauma or whatever. But I’m on top of it. You didn’t have to come all the way over here, Fi. I saw Lip a couple’a weeks ago, and got the weekly thing with Deb and Fran. It’s really. I’m fine. Go home. No, not go home. It’s nice that you’re here. Happy Thanksgiving. Fuck. I’m sorry. I’m fine. Let’s eat. Come on.”
Ian kept rambling. He walked over to the table. Nobody stopped him. They all knew…
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deedala · 1 year
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why the fuck weren't they in season 11? (rhetorical)
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biblionerd07 · 8 months
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Fic Stat Meme
Tagged by @literatigeek!
Rules: Give us the links to your fic with the most hits, second most kudos, third most comments, fourth most bookmarks, fifth most words, and fic with the least words.
Pretty sure all of mine are going to be Steve/Bucky lol...not only because I've written most of my fics in that fandom by a long shot but also boy oh boy do I miss that huge, active fandom life from like 2014-2016.
Most Hits: just say you do, Steve/Bucky, T Steve just wanted a job. He wasn't expecting a marriage proposal. And he certainly wasn't expecting to accept. This one is my most popular fic by every metric in any fandom ever lol. It was the perfect storm of a big, super engaged fandom and all the tropes everyone loves: fake marriage, hurt/comfort, bed sharing, found family, a big oh feelings realization at the last minute, the whole nine yards.
Second Most Kudos: scandal, Steve/Bucky, G Two boys are caught "getting fresh" in the Captain America exhibit, and Steve has to make a statement to the press. He doesn't quite stick to Pepper's script. I think this was my first "big" fic that got popular and I have to admit it is...not my favorite. I don't dislike it! I just think some of the characterization is not as good as I'd like it to be.
Third Most Comments: a marvelous gift, Steve/Bucky, T Bucky Barnes has a curse: he has to obey any orders he receives. It gets more complicated when he becomes best friends with Steve Rogers--the prince who will one day be king. The Ella Enchanted fusion! This one was pretty fun. Bucky having Ella's curse fit really well with the Winter Soldier storyline.
Fourth Most Bookmarks: Bucky Barnes Defense Squad, Steve/Bucky, G Steve is astounded to find Bucky's gone down in history as a bad boy. He makes it his mission to fix it. Aka Steve is mad that people don't know Bucky was a nerdy square mama's boy and he wants everyone to know that YES Bucky was sexy but NO it's not because he was aloof and sullen and a bad boy!
Fifth Most Words: Milestones, Steve/Bucky, T Continuation of "Shyest"; all the important steps in life with two super-soldiers raising a kid. The sequel series of one-shots to my "Two Supersoldiers and a Toddler" fic. My first series to get popular. My kid fic despite saying I don't like kid fic. 😂
Fic with the Least Words: war was just a game, Steve/Bucky, T "Let's play soldiers," Steve said. Bucky didn't want to, but he'd play because Steve asked. Not my favorite and it's very weird. I think I must've been going through something when I wrote this lmao. But I also wanted to make myself write exactly 500 words, so mission accomplished.
I am going to cop out and tag anyone who wants to do it! I've been absolutely terrible at keeping up with who's still writing and for which fandoms. So consider yourself tagged!
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captainbrookeworm · 6 months
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'Find the Word' Tag Game
I have been summoned by @galaxythedragonshifter
I have never done one of these but from what I can gather, I have to find the words "fake", "swerve", "fight", and "life" in my writing. Luckily, I found all of my words in fics I've posted so you can read those to get the context (shameless self promo lmao)
Tagging:
I'm like 70% sure I'm not mutuals with any authors so I'm just picking ones I've read from and know are on Tumblr:
@webtrinsic1122 @littlemisslol-fic @fabro-de-omres @izaswritings
Dunno how you're meant to pick words so I used a random word generator lol. Your words are: Twist, Blink, Stir, and Guide No pressure tho! Good luck!
Fake: From "and they were roommates" (Danny Phantom)
TRAITOR: BRO THAT WASN’T A SECRET
Danny: IT WASNT??????
TRAITOR: YEAH??? My dad already knows and its not like my social life can get any deader
TRAITOR 2 ELECTRIC BOOGALOO: heh 
TRAITOR 2 ELECTRIC BOOGALOO: ghost pun
Sam: Tucker I will break your pda in half
TRAITOR 2 ELECTRIC BOOGALOO: NOOOOOOOOO
TRAITOR: Also all the ghosts seem to figure it out too damn quick so keeping it quiet won’t keep them from attacking the people I care about. I’m outta reasons to not tell.
TRAITOR: But I can fake it if you want. 
TRAITOR: Oh no Wes! You have uncovered me! How will I ever cope????
Swerve: From: "Land of the Living" (Ninjago)
Morro laughed wildly. “It worked!” 
Lloyd quickly tied the wires together, ignoring the burn of his fingertips from the voltage. As he shimmied back into his seat, he said primly, “I can’t believe you doubted me.” After seeing the look on Morro’s face, he quickly put on his seatbelt. 
Morro rolled his eyes, clicked his own seatbelt on, and put the car into drive. “I didn’t doubt you, I just didn’t expect that to work.” He swerved, using the truck to punt three nindroids into the wall.
“That’s doubting me. You’re literally describing the act of doubting me.” 
“You’re being needlessly pedantic.”
“Ooh busting out the big words there.”
Fight: From "Hugo Finds Out Varian Is Scary" (Tangled: the Series + Varian and the Seven Kingdoms)
Varian swung his staff with the grace of a drunk man, but he achieved his goal of konking the bandit in front of him across the head and sending him sprawling to the ground. Hugo didn’t watch Varian chuck one of his sticky grenades at him to keep him well and truly out of the fight, though he did hear the sound of it activating behind him. Instead, he turned his attention to the two bandits in front of him - one tall one with a thick beard, and one shorter one with a gold tooth.
“C’mon now, boys, this can’t be worth the effort,” he said, grinning easily at them. 
He ducked a swipe from a sword. That answered that, he supposed.
Life: From "Shores of Restless Souls" (Ninjago)
“If you wanted me to return to a life of crime,” Morro commented idly, “you could’ve just asked.”
Jay whipped his head around, sputtering. “Wha- I- no!” he hissed.
Morro blinked, projecting an innocence Jay didn’t believe for a second. “No? I mean, what am I to think when you’ve dragged me to possibly the most crime-y place possible?” He blinked at him with wide eyes. “Are you using me to pay off a debt to the mob?” 
“No!” he almost shrieked. A few thugs glanced over at him, so he lowered his voice more when he said, “I don’t make a habit of getting into debts, and even if I did, I wouldn’t sell you!” 
Morro snorted. “Relax, Motormouth, I’m messing with you. Your face is turning three very distinct shades of red, so please take a deep breath before you pass out and I have to carry you back home.” 
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look-i-love-u · 1 year
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Galladrabbles - Karma
This is my submission for this week's @galladrabbles prompt: Karma, set by the great @stocious.
This is part of my grindr!Au. You can read it from the beginning: HERE.
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Mickey's eyes linger on his lips. Ian sighs and gives in to the temptation that is Mickey.
His fingers slide through Mickey's hair, tilt his head. Lick into his mouth. 
Eager fingers slide underneath Ian's shirt, make him shiver.
"Mick. I want you."
"Here?" Dark eyebrows arch teasingly. 
"Yeah. No more hiding in dark libraries," Ian grins, steals a kiss.
"You think you deserve this? After your lie?"
Ian's hands grab firm cheeks.
"Hell yes. Karma's a goddess and I'm gonna be so good to you…" 
Mickey's moan echoes through the night as Ian goes down on his knees.
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sooouth · 1 year
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midoriya = death tarot card. no i will not elaborate.
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seldomsee · 2 years
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Man star wars really has become the new mcu huh
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chuluoyi · 7 days
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jealousy, jealousy...
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- nanami kento x reader
your husband seems to be immune to jealousy, and you've pretty much convinced yourself that he just doesn't have it in him... or does he?
genre/warnings: crack, fluff, jealous!nanami (he is in denial), implied suggestive content, mentions of pregnancy, gojo cameo (i just can't pass up the chance of him annoying the heck out of nanami ahaha)
note: based on this ask, this is a little continuation to the secret wife! and this is in the same universe as love entries so gojo is married to the love entries reader! :)
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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By all means, Nanami Kento is not a jealous man.
He knows his worth. And he knows you. Out of all people, you wouldn't try anything with anyone.
Even more so with Ino. He knows him too, and there is just no way.
So... he really shouldn't get riled up, especially when it was his shitty senior who tried to set him on fire—
"It's still beyond me, how you managed to bag her," Gojo remarked with a bark of snort. Both of them shared the same table in this high-end bar, an afterparty for the school's graduation, but Nanami was seriously considering to move after Yaga left earlier until this clown came. "And keep her a secret too. I mean, that's so foul! If I were your wife, I'd divorce you on the spot."
Nanami threw him a pointed look. "The feeling is mutual. I feel bad for her for putting up with you too. And please don't be gross and say things like you being my wife. It's appalling."
Gojo's wife being his close friend and former classmate was what foul, Nanami thought. Sure, he would acknowledge Gojo's relentless efforts, but still, anyone willing to be this shameless paintbrush's wife must lead a really daring life.
The strongest sorcerer rolled his eyes. "Nah, I'll have you know that my married life is full of bliss. I have a proof, look at my—"
"If you want to show me hickeys, I'll seriously report you for harassing me."
And to that, Gojo merely whined and pursed his lips, and Nanami finally had some peace. He really entertained the thought of going back, because Gojo wasn't exactly a fun company, and this was getting late, until…
"Hey, Ino—the one who always follows you around," Gojo suddenly said. "Whoa, you're letting him close to your wife too, huh?"
Nanami whipped his head to where you were, and true to what Gojo said, you were indeed there, talking animatedly to his junior.
You were all smiles, and Ino was every bit as excited as you were. There was nothing remotely wrong with how you were conversing. You two looked like a pair of really, really good friends.
Ever since word of your marriage got out and became common knowledge, you've been receiving the kind of attention that Nanami wasn't sure he preferred. While he hadn't intended to keep it a secret, he certainly felt that a more private life was preferable.
But the thing was… weren't you too close with him? If it were up to him, Ino could've had at least two steps back. What were you discussing anyway?
"You're a lax husband, Nanamin, heh," Gojo whistled, totally grinning because he won this fight. "I know you probably think it's harmless, but a puppy is still a dog, you know~"
A puppy... is what?
That night, that phrase was what going through in his mind over and over as he chugged down his drinks.
No way, no way... It must have been because he had too much to drink. He couldn't possibly!
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The next time he felt that unpleasant feeling, it was on one night, at the comfort of your home.
Both of you had just finished watching a movie, still lounging on the sofa. You were blissfully humming, texting away on your phone at—Nanami looked at the clock—11 p.m.
Now, now, he wasn't one who would be checking your phone or such, but he couldn't deny the curiosity within him, because you weren't usually texting anyone this late at night.
"Hehe~" suddenly, you giggled and Nanami glanced at you in wonder. You seemed to be having fun.
Who... are you texting?
Despite telling himself he wouldn't meddle in your affairs, he gruffly cleared his throat. "Dear, it's late."
"Oh?" you whipped your head to him. "Oh, yeah..."
You were genuinely confused, your husband was folding his face as if he was sour of something. "Kento? What's wrong?"
But suddenly, his face lit up into a smile, kind of forced though. "Ah, nothing..." And suddenly he lifted you up from the sofa, making you almost yelp as you dropped your phone and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Time for bed."
However, what you didn't realize was that your phone's screen lit up just as the sender replied to your message, and Nanami caught a glimpse of it.
Ino.
A puppy is still a dog, you know~
The heck?
"Kento?" you asked again, and he immediately turned to you, unable to read the message. Still, his mind was reeling in many ways, and when he looked into your innocent, round eyes, suddenly he clicked his tongue, eyes slitting in dissatisfaction.
"Time for bed, dear."
Long story short, that night, your husband was somehow a little more aggressive than usual... even as he fondled you ever so softly at the end.
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The third time, Nanami had enough.
He had just finished a mission when he got that call from Ino, informing him that you were at a clinic after nearly passing out.
Out of anyone else... how could you not call him first?!
He may be vexed, but worry was what clouded his mind the most. You were almost five months pregnant now, and to have this happening to you—
He walked in to find you lying on the small bed, your eyes lighting up when you saw him. "Kento..."
"What happened to you? Why didn't you call me?" his voice was rough, and your smile fell. You felt him gripping your hand tightly. "How can you—"
Ino, sensing his apprehension, suddenly intervened, "Uh, Nanami-san, it's not—"
Nanami turned to him sharply, causing him to gulp.
"We were... in a bakery when Y/N-san suddenly felt faint," the younger man explained. "Please don't be too hard on her."
"And why are you with my wife in broad daylight?"
"Kento, it's not what it looks like!" you squeezed his hand urgently. "We were just... trying to find a cake, you know..."
"...what?"
And that day, everything Nanami thought he knew was turned on its axis. Perhaps, if he wasn't thinking too much—if Gojo's words hadn't taken his mind, he wouldn't jump into conclusions this easily.
Your first wedding anniversary was just in a couple of weeks, and you had enlisted in Ino's help to find this one bakery that he swore sold only the best goods. Your texts to each other were solely about that—nothing more, nothing less.
"Aww, Kento~" you cooed as Nanami helped you into your shared bed once you got back home. "You got jealous, it's cute, and I'm happy~"
He huffed. "I was not jealous."
"Ehh, didn't look like that to me though~"
"Listen," he said, taking hold of your shoulders once he had seated you on the bed, looking straight into your eyes. "From now on, whatever you do... you have to contact me first, alright?"
"Oh—?"
"When you need something, when you don't feel well, when you feel like you might be in some kind of danger..." his tone was serious, emphasizing each word. "You have to reach out to me first. You don't go to Ino, Gojo, or anyone else—me. You go to me. I'm your husband, and I intend to fulfill that role well for you."
And he placed a hand on your tummy, gently caressing it. "And of course the father role for the baby too."
You clamped up, totally speechless. This unexpected development made your heart soar with a heap of giddiness.
"Yes!" Your smile was so wide and radiant that Nanami was sure he had started to blush too. Then you flung yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck in a hug. "And you know... you're already the best husband and soon-to-be father ever! So you don't have anything to worry about, okay?"
Ah, how nice. Nanami chuckled as he placed his hand on the small of your back.
"Mhm, and from now on, I'll take charge of our anniversary. You only have to take it easy, alright?"
And when you giggled, he thought having you in his embrace like this was enough to satisfy him—after all, he was a simple man.
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Epilogue
"I know even Nanami gets jealous! Heh, heh, heh~"
Gojo laughed crisply, and Shoko snorted as they listened to Ino recount the story, with the latter scratching his head uncomfortably.
"I really didn't mean anything, and now I feel kinda bad," the younger man said, his head dropping. "Nanami-san seemed upset too..."
"Not many things can get under his skin," Shoko remarked. "I really thought he'd be more rational, but having an expecting wife must've taken quite a toll on him too."
"Nah, don't find more excuses, Shoko! Now is time to pay up~!"
As Shoko grumbled and Ino was lost in his own thoughts, a loud cough suddenly echoed behind them.
"Gojo-san... Ieiri-san..." Nanami leveled his unamused gaze on them, his glasses glinting in the light, causing the two gulp. "What are you two doing?"
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ozzgin · 5 months
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I love your reader insert stuff!! The yandere yazuka series was vvvv entertaining, I wish I had a big scary gangster to scare away my stalker lol
If you are open to requests, how about Idol!Reader x Yandere!Bodyguard. I love the trope so much, and I'm interested and what you'd do with the idea. No worries if you're not interested tho!
Best wishes
-🌟
I just finished writing it and you've got me punching the air with your prompt. It wasn't really my thing but I'm now sold. Thank you for the trope idea. :’)
Yandere!Bodyguard x Idol!Reader (I)
Short scenario featuring your bodyguard that takes his duty a little too seriously. Not that you’d mind…
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]
TW: violence
(Cover from the manga “A girl and her guard dog”)
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"Fantastic show tonight!"
The older man guides you in and closes the door behind him. You smile warmly and seat yourself on the sofa. He quickly follows, although at a terribly uncomfortable proximity. His legs are pressed against yours and he extends an arm behind you, pretending to stretch. You shuffle awkwardly and lock your hands in your lap. You can already tell where this is going.
"With your talent, I'm confident we could triple the number of attendants. We just need a bigger venue." He nods at you and taps your thigh with his other free hand as encouragement. You notice the wedding band digging into his skin. 
"Alas, let us not waste the evening with business talk. I'm sure a stunning lady like you has better things to do." He laughs at his own compliment and ponders for a minute. "In fact, why don't we have dinner together? I know a great restaurant in the area."
You open your mouth to speak, but are distracted by the sudden, mild pressure on your leg. Somehow, his greasy fingers have wandered further up in the time you listened to his shameless offer. You've been in this career for long enough to guess what such proposals entail. If you say no, best case scenario he presses further, calling you a stuck up bitch and reminding you who has the power in this partnership. Worst case scenario, he leaves the room and the calls and invitations to perform will gradually drop. 
Yet your situation is special, benefitting from an additional possibility. A loophole, if you may.
Should you scream? Oh, he always gets so angry when you act scared. It's an immediate trigger. He really has a soft spot for your glistening, frightened eyes. You glance up one final time at the perverted smirk silently disregarding you. If you are to be honest with yourself, you'd very much enjoy seeing it wiped off forever. Why not? You're feeling particularly mean today.
So without hesitation, you release a high pitched yell of help. The door bursts open and the hinges creak. A tall, toned man walks in, and without a word he lunges at the manager, pulling him by the collar of his cheap dress jacket. You hold your cheeks dramatically, and bat your eyelashes at your bodyguard.
"H-he tried to molest me..." you mumble between sobs.
That's all he needs to proceed. Now the real fun begins. You can hear the muffled screams of protest. The bones crack and the flesh bends under his iron fists. Standing before your bodyguard, they all end up looking like ragdolls. Comically limp and weak, folding and breaking with no resistance. It amuses you greatly.
When did it all begin? You can't remember anymore. You were in your early years and this scary looking stranger entered your little backstage room. His explanation was brief and to the point: as your fame increases, so will the threats to your safety. He was appointed as your bodyguard. You couldn't care less, so you just shrugged. 
You've always been on the playful side. Not necessarily rude, just some innocent tease and banter wherever it's well received. Seeing him so quiet and stoic, you couldn't help but try to push his buttons: changing in front of him and requiring his assistance, occasionally asking him to pick you up and carry you because you could no longer walk. Naturally you would've stopped at the first complaint, but that's the strange part: no reaction ever came. He went along with everything. You assumed it's part of the job. Celebrities aren't known for their good manners, so hiring someone that loses their temper easily would be a fast ticket to termination.
Then you had your first encounter with one of the unpleasant fans you've been warned about. You could only stare in terror at your bodyguard's feral, unhinged reaction. The unfortunate fan's face was so disfigured, you wondered if anyone could ever manage to fix it back into shape. The bodyguard was panting and you could see the sweat coating his face and chest. You were rather confident there were many other ways to deal with it and this wasn't on the recommended list. Thus you felt compelled to ask the million dollar question:
"You act like a jealous spouse. Do you have a crush on me or something?"
You kind of regretted your audacity towards a man that had just nearly killed someone. But his features softened instantly and he turned to you, wiping his forehead and straightening his collar. 
"I suppose so. Is that an issue?"
As you stared ahead, processing his unbothered act, you sensed your cheeks feverishly burning. Uh oh. You hadn't anticipated such a nonchalant confession. You thought back to all the times you stood before him, bare and flirty. Was he merely holding back his urges the entire time? Or was he finally paying you back for all the teasing? Then again, his face didn't betray any hint of humor.
"I've never heard you joke before", you decided to test the waters.
"I'm not. Why would I joke about something like this?" He gazed at you incredulously. 
As somber and honest as ever. Well, that would indeed explain why he'd let you get away with the cheeky behavior. The more you considered it, the more entranced you became with the idea of indulging in such a relationship. As a famous idol, you couldn't be seen dating anyone. One rumor of you having a boyfriend and the agency would've had your ass suspended. But no one said anything about messing around with your bodyguard. He has to be with you all the time, so no one would suspect a thing. And you could definitely expand his list of responsibilities. You'd been terribly stressed lately, after all, and an outlet to release your frustrations would be most welcomed. Your bodyguard would never refuse pleasing his beloved.
You chuckled and pulled him towards your dressing room, giddy with excitement. Something about his imposing presence, like a wild animal that had just escaped from the leash, aroused you to no end. You've had your share of crazy fans, but this was the cherry on top. 
"Should we leave?"
You're jolted out of your daydreams by his low, rough voice. Ah, you missed the grand finale. Too bad. The bodyguard approaches you, with the shirt wrinkled and the top buttons popped open under the shuffle of his vicious attack. You can feel the knot forming in your stomach.
"Not yet. You know how I get when you act like this..." You pout and look away. "You need to take care of me first."
He grins at your last statement.
"Of course. Is the sofa okay?"
You nod.
"Then let's get you undressed, miss."
Is this what they call a scary dog privilege? 
3K notes · View notes
scarletlizzard · 2 months
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Older
Music Series
Pairing: professor!Wanda x fem!Reader
Tags Minors DNI: older/younger (college), mommy kink, smut, choking, fingering & strap on use (R receiving), little overstimulation, praise or degradation kink? why not both, just shameless smut sorry
A/N: This is based on the song Older by Isabel LaRosa! This was requested. Thanks for reading, gladly appreciate any feedback. Thank you! 😊🩷
Masterlist
Wanda watches from her chair as you lean across the desk in front of her, your ass in the air with your skirt pulled down. Her hands reach out to caress your hips, touching the soft skin she can see. When her fingers reach your panties, she begins to pull them down, seeing a sticky string of wetness on your thigh.
"Please, Professor... I need you so bad," you moan and look back at her. Wanda stares in your eyes, her fingers dipping inside of you. You were soaking wet, and she knew it was all for her, your hot walls squeezing her fingers as she thrusted them inside you.
"Ohh, God! Miss Maximoff! " You moan again, Wanda feels herself becoming wetter as you push your hips back against her.
"Miss Maximoff..."
The image of you bent over her desk begins to fade.
"Miss Maximoff? " She hears your voice again.
Wanda blinks and clears her throat, her eyes meeting yours. Only this time, you're standing in front of her desk instead of lying across it. Students around the room were packing their bags and heading towards the door.
"Yes, Miss Y/L/N?" She asks and blinks a few more times, looking up from the papers she was supposed to be grading.
This had been happening more often the closer to the end of the semester came. Wanda was a professor at the university you attended. She had been a professor for a while now and absolutely loved her job, the life she was able to live with the money it paid, and being able to teach young minds. Every semester, she saw hundreds of faces, sometimes not being able to remember all of the names.
But then you walked in the first day of this spring semester with a cute smile on your face, eyes sparkling up at her as you greeted her.
Something about you and the way you acted towards her had Wanda questioning all of her morals.
To be fair, you couldn't help it... when you saw Wanda Maximoffs name on your schedule, you knew what you wanted. Your friends had told you all about her from when they took her class, and you'd seen her walking around campus before. She was exactly what you needed after failed relationship after relationship.
Someone older, someone as hot as she is.
So as the semester went on, you began wearing more revealing clothes, leaving very little to the imagination. At the end of every class, you would find yourself leaning over her desk, watching as Wanda struggled to keep eye contact with you.
"I don't think I really understood today's lesson. Do you think you could give me some extra help?" You would ask her, batting your eyelashes. Wanda swallowed hard and looked around the empty room, running a hand through her firey hair.
"My last class gets out at 3:30. You can meet me back here at 4." She said with a smile, muscle tensing in your grasp as you touched her arm.
"Thank you so much, Professor. .."
And that was how you started your extra 'tutoring' sessions with Wanda. Every day at 4, you would meet her in her class and shut the door behind you. You were a straight A student, clearly not needing any help, so the entire time was spent flirting and laughing, lots of lingering looks and touches.
As time went on, you couldn't help but stare at the ring on her finger. One afternoon, she caught you and gave a soft smile, finding herself needing to explain it to you. But as she opened her mouth, she realized you were her student and nothing more.
"It's complicated," she sighs, deciding not to share. You nod and rest your hand on top of hers, using your other hand to flip the pages of your book. She didn't move away.
'It's complicated' was good enough for you to want - no, need more from her.
So the next day you showed up to her classroom after hours, and when you shut the door, you strutted over to her where she sat at her desk.
"Hey Y/N, what -" Wanda said with an eyebrow raised. She watched as you moved between her and her desk, situating yourself between her legs.
"How long are we gonna play this game for?" You asked in a sultry voice, your hand playing with the top button of her blouse.
"Y/N... this is highly inappropriate. I-I don't know what you're talking about," she spoke sternly, but the look in her eyes and the way she didn't move away was all you needed to continue.
"I'm talking about where we pretend you don't want to fuck me." Your hands moved to the bottom of your skirt, fingers pulling the fabric slowly over the skin of your thighs. "Cmon, Wanda, I can be your little secret... I know you think about me. Do you imagine fucking me right here?" You asked and bite your lip, watching her hands ball into fists.
"I told you to call me Miss Maximoff." Wanda said, not denying a word you spoke.
You leaned forward, hands moved to rub her thighs as your lips touched her ear.
"I'd rather call you mommy..."
Wanda groaned at your words, and in a quick second, she had you bent over her desk, your hands behind your back as her hips pressed against your ass. A moan escaped your lips as your cheek hit the wooden surface. Your hips moved back against her, causing another low sound from Wandas throat.
Before she could do anything else, she quickly released you, panting from the sudden rush of adrenaline. Wanda runs a hand through her hair and straightens out your skirt, stepping away from you. You frown at her actions, hating the way her hands weren't on you anymore.
"You're my student, Y/N. I can't risk it," She said with a cold tone to you, eyes dark with lust.
"Only for a little longer!" You argued her, frowning and crossing your arms.
"You're too young," Wanda said softly and shook her head. Her fingers ran over her lips after she spoke.
You didn't have anything to say at that. You ran out of the room with tearful eyes and an ache in your stomach, not stopping when she called out your name.
That was two weeks ago, and you hadn't been back to her class after hours since. Though every morning Wanda greeted you with that charming fucking smile and a, "Good morning, Y/N," slipping off her tongue in the nicest voice.
Which brings you back to today, standing in front of her as she stared at you with those same dark eyes from two weeks ago. You raise an eyebrow at her demeanor.
"I just wanted to say thanks for all the..." You eye the students leaving the classroom. "...extra help this semester." You clear your throat and adjust the bag on your shoulder. Wanda nods slowly, the image of her fingers inside of you now stuck in her head.
"Of course, Miss Y/L/N. You're a very bright young lady, you know that? Wise beyond your years," Wanda says with a smile, and she truly meant it. You sigh softly with a nod and head towards the door as everyone else had left.
"I'd like to go over your final paper with you, if you don't mind?" You hear her say, and your heart begins to race.
"4?" You ask, turning your head to look at her. She nods.
***
You hear the wood creak as Wanda closes the door. The clicking of the lock makes you squeeze your thighs together as you sit in the chair she put in front of her desk.
You take in her appearance, a white blouse hugging her top and dark slacks on her lower half that she usually wore. She took her red hair out of the bun she had and let her hair fall down her shoulders. She always looks so effortlessly beautiful, always so perfect.
"Is something wrong with my paper?" You ask tentatively, watching her sit across the desk from you.
Wanda folds her hands together on the desk, studying your face carefully. "It was brilliant, Y/N. One of the best I received, actually," she chuckles a little. You blush at her praise and watch as her smile slides into a smirk.
"Thank you, Miss Maximoff." You swallow hard, feeling the tension between the two of you grow in the quiet room. You hear the clock on the wall behind Wanda ticking almost as loudly as your heart was beating in your ears.
"Since I'm no longer your teacher, you don't have to call me that," she says and leans back in her chair.
"Oh, so I can call you Wanda now?" You say playfully, taking in the way she slides the ring off her finger and puts it in a drawer of her desk.
"I'd rather you call me something else," Wanda says, and you can feel your body heat up, realizing she was quoting your last conversation.
You stand from your chair and walk around the desk, feeling her eyes on you as you do. "Something specific?" You tease, standing between her and her desk, once again.
"Are you going to make me ask?" She says and tilts her head, looking up to you. Her hands reach out to rest on your hips as she stands from the chair. It's your turn to look up to her.
"Maybe," you tease again with a shrug, a gasp leaving your mouth when she lifts you easily onto the desk.
Wanda puts herself between your legs, the space between the two of you filled with her presence. You could smell the expensive perfume she wore and the mint on her breath as she leaned in. She chuckles lowly at the goosebumps that arise on your arms.
"I'm not going to be the one begging," she whispers in your ear, a finger under your chin as she leans back and forces your head up.
The two of you lean in at the same time, lips moving in sync as your arms move to wrap around her. Her lips are softer than you could have ever imagined, and you could taste the mint you smelled earlier on her tongue as she explores your mouth.
"I've wanted to kiss you like this since the first time you walked in this room," Wanda groans into your mouth and you can only whine in reply as your hands move to unbutton her blouse.
Her hands make quick work of undoing your jeans, and you wish you hadn't stopped wearing skirts after she told you she couldn't be with you. But those thoughts are quickly replaced with watching Wanda slide your pants and panties down together.
Wanda can't help but moan quietly at the sight of your already wet thighs, sticky with your arousal just like in her dream. She looks in your eyes as two fingers press onto your clit, your mouth parting at the feeling.
"So wet for me already, and I haven't even done anything yet..." She sighs, rubbing circles as your hands grip desperately onto her now open shirt.
"Please, Miss Maximoff... I need you so bad," you moan her name. She almost thinks she's dreaming again until she slips her fingers inside of you, feeling your warm walls squeeze her fingers just as she thought they would. Even better than she imagined.
"What was that, baby?" Her fingers stay still inside of you, her eyes watching your red cheeks.
"Please... mommy?" You ask and bite your lip, her fingers suddenly moving inside of you was all you needed to know that was what she wanted to hear.
"You hear that? You hear how wet you are for me?" She asks, the filthy sounds of her fingers pumping in and out of you fill the empty room. "Fucking gorgeous sounds baby," Wanda groans at the feeling of you squeezing her fingers.
"Yes, mommy, I-I'm so wet for you! Your fingers feel so good," you moan and buck your hips pathetically against her hand.
"You feel so good clenching around my fingers, taking me so well, baby.. you gonna cum already huh?" Wanda says in a condescending tone with a smirk on her lips. Her fingers pick up pace, and you moan at the feeling of her knuckle deep inside of your pussy. The fingers you had imagined so many times inside of you, finally curling and drawing an orgasm out of you. Your body shakes as you come, stomach tightening as you soak her fingers.
"Fuck - Wanda!" You let out, feeling her fingers pump inside of you through your climax.
When she sees your body calm, Wanda removes her fingers, a whimper leaving your mouth as you clench around nothing. Your legs squeeze Wandas hips when she puts her fingers in front of your lips.
"Open up, sweetheart. Taste yourself, see how good mommy made you feel," she says and moves her other hand to cup under your chin.
You comply and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out. When she puts her fingers in your mouth, you suck hard and look up at her with innocent eyes. Batting your eyelashes, you lick between her fingers, a low moan illiciting from the back of her throat.
Something seemed to snap inside of Wanda as you did that, and she quickly removed them and lifted your shirt over your head before taking a step back. The fact that you weren't wearing a bra only drove Wanda more crazy.
"Turn around, baby, and stick your ass up... let me see that pretty pussy," she says with dark eyes, her hands unzipping her slacks to pull out a red strap. Your eyes widen at the sight and she chuckles. "It's okay sweetheart, you can take it. We'll make it fit, won't we?" She asks and watches as you nod and turn around.
You bend over the desk, lifting your ass up and looking back at her, always so fucking innocently. Wanda hums at the sight and guides her strap up and down your wet pussy, sliding part of it in easily.
"I've dreamed of this," she says, and you didn't know she literally had.
You grip onto the wood in front of you, eyes squeezing closed as she pushes herself deeper inside of you. Her hands rub your back and hips soothingly.
"Mommy -fuck- want to take all of you," you whimper out.
"Oh don't worry, sweetheart, you will," she coos and fills you up completely, the fabric of her pants rubbing against your ass as you push back onto her hips.
Once she's bottomed out, she reaches forward to grab your hands, placing them behind your back and holding them there tightly with one hand. Again, all too familiar from your last meeting with her, only this time you've gotten your way. Her hips begin to move slowly at first, but once your whimpers turn into moans, she can no longer hold back.
"This is all you wanted, isn't it, sweetheart? To be fucked and filled with mommys cock like a good little slut," Wanda breathes out as she rails into you.
"Yes, mommy! I-" You stop mid sentence and half moan half whine as your cheek rubs against the wood with every thrust, her hips hitting yours roughly. You clench around the length of her cock, every word driving you closer ro another orgasm.
With one hand holding yours behind your back, the other smacks your ass sharply. "You can't even talk, can you baby? Is mommy fucking you dumb? What happened to my smart girl?" She chuckles, again in a condescending tone.
But she wasn't wrong. You were at the point of whining, and gasping breathes with each thrust feeling deeper than the next. All your teasing and taunting Wanda through the semester, and this was all it took to finally shut you up.
Not that either of you would complain.
The desk scratches against the floor as she pounds into you, the sounds of the wood creaking underneath the weight of you and her fucking into your wet pussy fill the room, accompanied by your whimpers and half sentences.
"Feels so -"
Another moan.
"So, so good, mommy!"
Another whimper.
Wandas hand palms your ass cheek roughly before you feel her nails digging into your hips. She feels more resistance as she pumps in and out of you, your walls clenching tightly.
"You're close, aren't you, sweetheart?" She groans at the whimper that leaves your mouth, and she pushes herself harder into you. For a second, you feel like the desk would break. "Alright baby, you better be a good girl and cum for mommy..." She says and the praise is all you need to release all over Wandas strap, your wetness spreading and dripping onto your thighs.
The scrapping of the desk stops as she slows her thrusts, her hand releasing your hands from her grip. The two of you sit there for a moment breathing heavily, and Wanda leans forward to kiss your cheek.
"Such a good girl for me, you took me so well, baby... that's it. Just take a minute." Her hands move to lift you up, not removing the cock from inside of you. She sits down in her chair and brings you with her, sitting you in her lap.
"I-I can't take anymore," you breathe out and shake your head, wincing at the feeling of how full she felt inside of you, the way she stretched you out completely.
"Shhh," Wanda coos in a soothing voice, placing sweet kisses on your back and shoulder. "Just one more baby, one more for mommy. There you go, baby just like that," she says, guiding you to move your hips.
Any pain had quickly turned to pleasure as you moved in her lap, your back pressing against her front as you leaned back. Her hips met yours with every bounce, and you tears threatened to escape with how good you felt.
"Such a good girl for mommy, aren't you?" She asks, you feel her left hand grope your breasts, fingers squeezing your nipple as her right hand moves up your side slowly, gripping your throat.
"Y-Yes, mommy, just for you. I'm -oh fuck- I'm so close," you whine as her fingers squeeze either side of your neck. You feel the air escape your throat just enough to feel your chest tighten.
Wanda moans at the feeling of your pulse quicken under her thumb. She was practically holding you up at this point. Your head falls back onto her shoulder, and her left hand moves down to rub your swollen clit. You let out a gasp at the pleasure of the overstimulation of it all.
"That's it, baby, just like that. You're doing so good for mommy," she praises in your ear, her lips moving against the skin just underneath. Wandas hips move more roughly up into you, her grip tightening around your throat.
Your hands move up to grip onto her arm, nails digging into the sleeves of her shirt as she forces another orgasm out of you.
"Mommy, I'm coming!" You whine as your body trembles against her, your legs failing you as she holds you up tightly in her lap.
"Fuck sweetheart, just-just hold on mommy's gonna cum too," Wanda groans against your neck and continues to pound into you from underneath you as she chases her own high. You were beyond overstimulated at this point, and the tears that threatened to fall from earlier flowed freely down your cheeks now.
Wandas thrusts begin to waver, and as she moans against your skin, her hand squeezes your throat again, the muscles in her arm tensing as she comes.
She removes her hand from your throat and clit and instead wraps her arms around you securely. You bury your face against her neck, feeling vulnerable and exposed as you sit naked in her lap. Wanda had taken any weight you carried off your shoulders, you had never felt more relaxed or well-fucked in your life.
You feel her lips kiss your cheek, and you respond by peppering her neck and jaw with kisses back.
"You okay, darling?" Wanda asks, her voice soft. You could see a bright smile on her face as you look up at her and nod. "Use your words."
"Yes... never felt better." You sigh contently and smile back at her, leaning over to kiss her on the lips.
Wanda helps you off of her strap, your legs weak underneath you as you reach for your shirt as she tucks the strap back into her pants. She reaches out to grab your panties and jeans.
"I don't want you to clean yourself off until you get home. Understand?" She asks with a smirk as she pulls your pants over your wet and sticky thighs. "I want you to think about me for the rest of the night," Wanda whispers and buttons your jeans, pulling up the zipper. You stand uncomfortably but nod, the thought and feeling only making your stomach burn all over again.
You look at Wanda and take in the sight of the smirk on her red, swollen lips, her red hair cascading down to lay on her breasts that peak through her open blouse. Her hands move to button up the shirt, but the sight of her empty ring finger reminds you of a certain fact.
"Will I see you again?" You ask, not being able to hide the disappointment on your face. The smile that takes over her face is enough to relax the features on your own.
"We've got all summer," she chuckles, her hands cupping your cheeks as she kisses your forehead.
Someone older was definitely what you needed.
And having Wanda for the summer? You would do everything prove to her that age was just a number, and figure out just how 'complicated' her marriage was. Because when she walked out of the classroom with you next to her, she left the ring in the drawer of the desk she had just fucked you on.
2K notes · View notes
zorobff · 6 months
Text
little by little. (opla!sanji x fem!reader)
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synopsis: a series of events that transpire throughout your time mentoring sanji into a proper waiter, per zeff’s request.
word count: 5.3k
warnings: cursing, smoking, some direct dialogue from opla, zoro wants u but he can’t have uuu, a pitiful attempt at enemies to lovers, this is the plate technique i was referencing btw
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the slicing, stirring, and sizzling of the kitchen fades into background noise compared to the two thick accents bickering back and forth. to no one’s surprise, a disagreement between sanji and zeff’s has escalated into another one of their infamous arguments. it was such a common occurrence that almost everyone working at the baratie knew to brace themselves for a yelling match at least once day.
you’re no different as you return to the kitchen from waiting tables and walk right past the pair without so much as a glance their way. instead, you make a beeline for patty’s cooking station. unamused, you ask, “they’re back at it again?”
patty slings a towel over his shoulder as he hands you table 7’s orders. “i told sanji not to put that original dish of his on the menu. he called it a true bluefin whatever the hell.”
“sounds promising,” you joke, collecting the plates from him.
“tell that to zeff,” he replies flatly. “he might even make it tomorrow’s special.”
“dammit zeff!” sanji exclaims, interrupting you and patty’s conversation. “if i gotta sling one more prime rib medium-well, i’m going to drop dead of boredom, you old shitbag!”
“it’s what we serve,” retaliates the older chef.
“it’s an insult to the meat!”
“oh, you don’t like cooking our menu? fine. ‘cause i’ll be more than delighted to give you some other work elsewhere. in fact, you are off the line. you’re going to get out there and wait tables!”
sanji’s jaw clenches at having been demoted but he removes his chef apron regardless. as often as the two of them bickered, he could never refuse such direct orders from zeff. he was the owner and founder of baratie — that was something to be respected.
all of a sudden, zeff calls your name, causing you to abruptly set down the dishes in your hands. what did you have to do with any of this? the older chef beckons you closer with a curled finger and it seems as if every pair of eyes in the kitchen shifts to you. except for sanji’s, who is too busy staring up at the ceiling as if he’s begging a higher power for self-restraint.
it’s ironic how after putting so much effort into being the best waitress possible, you end up in the middle of confrontation – something you went out of your way to avoid. still, your body reacts faster than your brain and you comply, scurrying over to where zeff and sanji stand.
“from here on out, you keep a close eye on him for me.” zeff clasps a large hand on sanji’s shoulder with such force that it sends the younger jolting forward. “i don’t wanna catch him slithering his way back into the kitchen unless it’s to grab orders, ya got it?”
you blink. “yes, chef.”
your response earns you a tight-lipped smile, a rarely seen gesture from zeff. as suddenly as it appeared, it’s gone, replaced by a hardened gaze as he turns back to sanji. “if we’re lucky enough, some of your obedience might rub off on this little eggplant.”
the comment earns him an eye roll from the waiter in question, who seems less than thrilled with this new arrangement. “this is such bullshit, old man. you really think she can teach me anything?”
you go to defend yourself, slightly offended by his offhand comment. “hey, i—”
before you can get another word out, sanji interjects, offering you a glance. “no offense, i’m sure you’re lovely—” the moment he takes a good look at you, he trails off. it’s almost comical how quickly his demeanor changes, that signature smirk of his creeping onto his lips. “with an even lovelier face to match.”
you narrow your eyes at him, not charmed by the sudden switch in attitude. “you’re shameless.”
he smiles. “so i’ve been told.”
“we’ll need to work on that.”
his grin widens, if that was even possible. “i look forward to it.”
his smile is a little too mischievous for your liking; you sigh. “can’t say the same.”
ignoring your remark, he muses, “you know, it’s a shame that working under you is supposed to be a punishment. a pretty face like yours is more of a reward, if you ask me.”
“who said anything about a punishment?”
“well, what else would you call this?” he chuckles dryly. “instead of cooking, i’m expected to wait on idiots who can’t tell a rosé prosecco from a cheval blanc. and now i’m being treated like i need a babysitter.”
you fold your arms. “that’s because you do need a babysitter. besides, zeff calls the shots so there’s no use complaining.”
“of course you’d say that.”
“what’s that supposed to mean?”
he smirks. “i can already tell you’re a professional rule follower. a lap dog, if you will.”
“if you were too, we wouldn’t even be here.” you decide to take it even further, returning his bluntness. “maybe it’d be easier if that ego of yours wasn’t so inflated.”
“damn.” he places a hand over his heart as if you’ve wounded him. “if we’re talking about flaws, though, this might be a good time to mention the stick up your ass.”
“what? i don’t–” you take a deep breath. “listen, zeff is counting on me to turn you into a functional waiter. that means we have to tolerate each other for the time being. the sooner we do that, the sooner we go our separate ways. got it?”
he flashes you his teeth. “yes, ma’am.”
“great. to start, you’re going to wait tables with me.” with that, you walk back to patty’s station.
sanji scampers behind you, smile fading. “you’re joking.”
you shrug, opting to let your silence answer for you.
he continues, “you’re not even going to let me suffer through this alone? i’ve gotta be glued to your hip as well?”
“what’s the matter? i thought i was lovely,” you tease him, feigning sorrow. your faux pout contradicts the way you harshly shove two steaming plates his way.
“not when you’re bossing me around.” he hesitantly takes the dishes you hand him. “i mean, can’t you just let me off the hook? i’ll hide in the supply closet ‘til our shift’s over.”
“good one.”
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WEEK ONE.
“welcome to baratie, i’ll be your waitress this afternoon. what can i get started for you?” you ask, ready to jot down the table’s orders on your notepad. “i recommend today’s special—”
an arm digging into your ribs cuts you off. the action is forceful enough to jolt you but light enough not to hurt. you glare at the culprit, who tilts his head expectantly as if to ask, aren’t you forgetting something?
“oh, how unprofessional of me,” you deadpan. “this is sanji, he’ll be accompanying me. we’re training new hires.”
the smile on his face disappears, clearly insulted at being compared to an inexperienced beginner.
you continue, “as i was saying, today’s special is a beef filet with rice and seaweed soup. it was chosen by chef zeff himself.”
that seems to pique the customers’ interests. who didn’t want to eat a meal that had the chef zeff’s stamp of approval? they enthusiastically agree to add it to their order.
sanji scoffs. “that’s not sayin’ much. zeff wouldn’t know a good meal if it kicked him in the peg leg.”
you find yourself cringing as the patrons’ faces contort into shock at the blatant insult. well, there goes your tip.
chuckling nervously, you attempt to redirect the conversation. “can i, um, get you anything to drink?”
dismissing sanji’s outburst, they opt to look over the various wines the menu has to offer. you allow yourself to tune out their indecisive murmuring for the time being. however, sanji soon breaks the peaceful silence.
“you know what, how about i whip up a dish of my own for you two? ’s called a true bluefin sauté, somethin’ that’ll put today’s special to shame. free of charge, of course—”
“okay, that’s enough,” you intervene in between yet another forced laugh. “could you please excuse us for a moment?”
the guests’ irritated expressions fill you with shame — you were used to smiles and hefty tips but never this. you pull sanji aside, ignoring his complaints about the excessive force you use to do so.
“you need to get it together,” you seethe.
“i’m trying my best,” he replies, though there’s a smug undertone to it. “like you said, i am just a new hire.”
you suppress a sigh. “no new hire would badmouth the owner to customers like that. or offer to make dishes that aren’t—and never will be—on the menu.”
“ouch, that was personal—”
“just let patty know we need two specials. and tell him to make it top priority, we don’t want to piss these people off even more. can you do that, please?”
it was clear you were stressed by the mess he’d created, if your pleading tone was anything to go by. sanji decides to take pity on you. he wordlessly retreats to the kitchen to do what you had asked. no quips, no teasing.
for the first time, he follows your instructions.
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WEEK TWO.
it seemed as if everyone in the east blue was set on having their breakfast at the baratie.
the kitchen was bustling, cooks slaving over the stove and waiters twisting past each other to grab orders. among them was you, sweaty and thoroughly overwhelmed. despite the task at hand, you can’t help but question the whereabouts of a certain blonde.
“where’s sanji?” you demand while grabbing more steaming plates.
carne, the chef who’d cooked the meals, answers you. “haven’t seen him all morning.”
you groan, using your sleeve to wipe off the beads of perspiration that form at your hairline before grabbing a bowl of oatmeal and plate of fluffy belgian waffles. you knew sanji still wasn’t happy about being a waiter (and he took every chance to show it) but that didn’t matter; it was all hands on deck this morning.
you continue expertly stacking the dishes into your arms and hands. it was a technique you’d learned over the years and now it felt like second nature. soon enough, you’re balancing plates up to your forearms. you’re just about to head back out to the dining hall when you hear a familiar accent behind you.
“we doin’ party tricks now or what?”
startled, you turn around so fast it causes the dishware in your hold to teeter ever so slightly. there stands sanji, clearly finding amusement in how you’re up to your elbows in breakfast foods.
“maybe don’t sneak up on me when i’m holding six plates?” you chastise him.
he chuckles. “sorry, sorry. what did i miss?”
“only the worst breakfast rush i’ve ever seen. where have you been?”
“i was takin’ a smoke outside.”
“productive.” your tone drips with sarcasm. “we’ll talk about punctuality later, for now just take the rest of those plates for me.”
sanji reluctantly obeys, grabbing two plates from the multitude of options and steps back, ready to follow you. you look at him in what could only be described as utter disbelief. he returns the stare and furrows his eyebrows as if he really can’t understand what he’s doing wrong.
“you’re seriously only taking two?” you ask.
“yeah? what, were you expecting me to join your balancing act?”
“it would help!”
“trust me, i’d only make a bigger mess.”
“sanji.”
“fine! show me.”
you squint your eyes at him in irritation. “my hands are a little full right now.”
he purses his lips. “then just tell me how.”
you comply. “get your first plate, put it between your thumb and the edge of your pointer finger. make sure to rotate it away from your body.”
sanji follows your directions, attentively. he glances up at you once he completes the first couple steps, scanning your face for any disapproval. you give him a nod.
“so far so good. next, put your second plate under the first. use your remaining fingers to support it– yeah, just like that. and let the edge of the plate rest on the bottom of the first.”
as sanji carefully carries out your instructions, you notice the determination written on his face. you’d never seen him put so much effort in a task, much less one you’d given him. you could tell it was challenging, judging by the way his hands wobble with uncertainty as he stacks the plates, but not once does he stop. it’s admirable. you feel a smile form on your face.
“okay, what n— what’re you laughin’ at?”
“i’m not laughing,” you defend. “it’s just– you’re really trying. it’s nice. i like this sanji.”
he opens his mouth as if to respond but decides not to at the last moment. there’s a brief silence before he raises his eyebrows to signal he was ready for the next step.
“right. um, the third plate uses your arm and the edge of the second plate as balance points so you’re gonna wanna put it– yeah, right there.”
you take in the sight of all three plates successfully resting on sanji’s arm as one of his trademark grins appears on his lips. clearly he’s proud of himself but as his wide eyes meet yours, you can’t help but feel as if he’s seeking your approval too. you notice that when he glances up at you, there’s an eager look in his eyes as if he’s hanging on to your every breath. you figure it’s normal for someone to want their mentor’s praise, right?
you willingly deliver the encouragement. “you’re a natural. better than me.”
his reply comes so quickly it almost seems as if he’s said it without thinking. “well, that’s not possible, is it?”
his tone sounds warm; sincere. not to mention, this is the first time sanji has complimented your skills as a waitress. you’d received countless praises for your work ethic but somehow, something so simple from someone like sanji makes this different. special, in a way.
“let’s get to the table, food’s gonna get cold,” you say so that you don’t spend too much time replaying his words in your mind.
the journey to said table proves to be more arduous than you’d think. you offer quiet ‘excuse me’s that can hardly be heard over the commotion of the kitchen as your coworkers try their best to make way for you and sanji. some of their eyes linger on the plates that masterfully balance on both your arms but truthfully, the sight of sanji exerting so much effort into waiting tables is more impressive to them. it’s distracting enough to send one of them to colliding straight into you.
your first instinct is to try and salvage as many dishes as possible but it’s useless when the impact is so strong that it sends you stumbling backwards. the only reason you don’t fall over is the firm chest that presses against your back and the two pairs of strong arms that find their way around your waist. the ear-splitting sound of yours and sanji’s plates shattering against the floor is unpleasant and yet all you can think about is how sanji literally dropped everything to catch you.
the waiter you’d crashed into groans, looking down at the mess of broken dishware and food gone to waste. “god, look where you’re going if you’re gonna carry all those plates.”
“i’m sorry,” you instantly apologize, flustered by the rare mistake. “i was just trying to get ahead of the rush–”
“instead, you set us back further.” his eyes flit down to his shirt and then yours. “and ruined both our uniforms.”
the abruptness of your mishap (and your skinship with sanji) had robbed all your attention, causing you to overlook the various creams and sauces that now bleed into your shirt.
“watch it,” sanji warns him, finding the man’s aggressive tone intolerable. “if you worked half as hard as she is then maybe there wouldn’t be such a need to catch up on orders.”
your coworker fixes sanji with a glare for intervening. “i’m not talking to you, pal.”
“well, i’m talking to you. and i’m thinkin’ of taking this discussion outside if you don’t apologize for being a jackass.”
that earns him an irritated sigh. however, he complies. “i’m sorry. can i get back to work now?”
sanji remains unimpressed. “don’t apologize to me. apologize to her.”
he doesn’t even try to hide his eye roll before he gives you a lackadaisical apology. “i’m sorry, alright? tell your boyfriend to back off.”
he stomps away, leaving you even more rattled up by his last comment. slowly, you turn around to sanji, unsure of what to say. you take in the stains that litter his suit, though he seems unbothered by it. his stare is heated as he watches the man leave. however, when he notices you staring, his gaze softens.
“what was his problem?” he asks you with a chuckle that sounds out of place in a moment like this.
in any other situation you’d poke fun at sanji for also having gotten worked up but you choose not to. him getting so angry on your behalf felt… strange. not unwelcome, though.
your reply is simple. “y-yeah. real asshole.”
he lifts a brow. “you okay?”
you nod a little too hard. “i’m just not used to situations like that. thanks for stepping in. and, you know, catching me.”
sanji glances away when your look of pure gratitude becomes too much for him to handle. “i couldn’t have you eat shit and be out of commission, zeff just might decide to mentor me himself. and no one wants that, right?”
you can’t help but laugh at the dismissive demeanor he was putting on when he’d literally just threatened a man for you. “right.”
he clears his throat. “let’s go get cleaned up then.”
“sorry,” you blurt. “about your suit, i mean. it’s all dirty now.”
he shakes his head. “wasn’t your fault. if anything, i should go force an apology out of that jerk.”
“well, while you do that i’m gonna clean this mess up.”
“no need.” he shoots you a sly wink. “i’ll make him do that too.”
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WEEK THREE.
you find yourself clearing off an empty table on a somewhat slow thursday afternoon when the baratie’s newest guests catch your eye. they look nothing like the stuffy moneybags that frequented the establishment – far from it. in fact, you find yourself having to do a double take when you notice that one of them is wearing overalls. it’s refreshing, you think, occasionally glancing up at them as they settle in.
when you head back to the kitchen to grab menus, you bump into sanji, who’d arrived from his break.
you glance at the clock on the wall. “was that actually only ten minutes? i’m impressed.”
sanji exhales as he does every time he feels sheepish about following the rules. “don’t get used to it.”
you disregard his comment and instead hand him a couple menus. “come on, we’ve got a table.”
he frowns. “i just got back.”
“you’ll live. i think it’ll be a interesting one.”
that was an understatement.
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“welcome to baratie. my name is sanji. what can i get for you?”
sanji’s customer service voice never fails to amuse you. it sounds too forced, too sharp; as if he’s just dying to spew a one-liner or two. you have to admit, though, he’d done pretty well ever since you started letting him take the lead. there was a clear improvement from when you’d first started, a little over two weeks ago.
“one of everything!” the one with the straw hat enthusiastically exclaims.
another, more feminine, voice joins the conversation. “maybe save that for after we find the one piece.”
there’s a brief pause before sanji speaks again, this time in a tone you know all too well. “didn’t see you there, madam. would you care for an aperitif to start? we have several rare micqueot vintages in stock. or perhaps you’d like a glass of umeshu? you know, something sweet for someone sweet.” he ends with a wink.
she cringes. “is there something wrong with your eye?”
you can hear sanji’s smile in his reply. “just blinded by your beauty.”
out of all of sanji’s antics, this somehow feels like the worst one yet. you’re not entirely sure why him blatantly flirting with the woman feels so unbearable but you decide to chalk it up to your professionalism. if any of your fellow waiters flirted with a customer you’d be just as upset… right?
“zeff told me he doesn’t like you terrorizing the female patrons with your flirting so why don’t you knock it off?” you tell sanji, your words carrying an unusual edge to them. “you’re one shitty pick-up line away from a restraining order.”
although you mumble the last part, both sanji and the table seem to pick up on it. your bitterness earns you a surprised tilt of the head from the blonde; it wasn’t like you to have such outbursts, especially not in front of guests.
“relax,” he says, still taken aback. “it’s called working the table. you should try it sometime ‘cause that attitude isn’t gonna get you anywhere.”
a monotonous voice cuts through the tension. “so about those drinks...”
you and sanji pause your discussion to get a look at the face behind the remark. lidded eyes that appear to be permanently hazy return your stare, through lashes so long you can’t help but admire them. the man who they belong to is comfortably splayed out on his side of the booth, calmly observing the two of you. though, it seems like you’ve caught his attention more than anything else. though his gaze seems uninterested, he still effectively studies every inch of you.
sanji seems to pick up the stranger’s staring problem too. he sharply inquires, “is there something on her face?”
the man turns to him once he’s finished sizing you up. “i’m just an observant guy.”
“observe the menu instead, hm?” suddenly, sanji’s tone sounds a lot like yours; irritated and displeased.
“no need.” the green-haired swordsman turns to you. “a beer, please.”
you hold the male’s gaze for a second before nodding. apparently, the eye contact is too prolonged for sanji’s taste because he cuts in, attempting to move things along.
“what about you, madam? anything i can get for you?” you notice he’s using that voice again.
her answer is plain. “water.”
somehow, he manages to complicate it. “still, sparkling, mineral? with ice or without? cubed or crushed?”
“regular water in a regular glass. thanks.”
he beams. “right away.”
“and what about the rest of you?” you ask to impede sanji from asking the woman any more questions.
“two beers,” the one with dark skin says. “i usually have three but–”
“and a milk!” the straw hat adds.
“got it. anything else before we go get those drinks for you?”
a raspy voice speaks up. “do waiters usually come in pairs here?”
you shake your head. “this is a temporary arrangement. he just needed some extra training.”
“that depends on who you ask,” sanji clarifies before narrowing his eyes at the man on the left of the booth. “why do you care anyway, mosshead?”
before you can scold sanji for giving customers rude nicknames, the customer in question swiftly corrects him. “the name’s zoro. i was just curious as to why such a good waiter would be partnered with someone so… incompetent.”
“curious?” scoffs the woman to his left. “since when are you ever curious? about anything other than alcohol, that is.”
“certain things catch my attention once in a while, nami,” he replies, nonchalantly. though he mentions his colleague by name, it’s clear he’s really speaking to you. “it’s just not often that my standards can be met. but when they are, i’m left with no choice but to show a little interest.”
your head tilts at the double meaning his comment carried. though you admire zoro’s ability to be a smooth-talker, you find that that’s where his appeal ends for you.
“high standards, hm? then you’re dining at the wrong place,” spits sanji in an attempt to get zoro’s attention off of you. “only thing that isn’t shitty is the drinks which we’ll be getting for you now, if you’ll excuse us.”
sanji hooks an arm around your shoulder before he spins on his heel and leads you both back to the kitchen. you look over your shoulder, offering the table one of your customer service smiles as an apology for your abrupt exit. sanji’s strides are long and purposeful; he’s angry, you realize. although, you can’t blame him for having such a sour attitude when you yourself aren’t too thrilled either.
you don’t speak to each other for the rest of the shift.
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“you smiled at him.”
you sigh, setting your book face down to glare at sanji who stands in the doorway of the quaint breakroom. “i’m on my break, sanji.”
“so am i,” he retaliates, pulling a stick out of the worn-down cigarette box in his pocket as if to prove it to you.
“so it’s not enough that i’m stuck babysitting you when we’re on the clock? you’re gonna start seeking me out in our free time too?”
he purses his lips. “pretty much.”
his stubbornness is unsurprising but you just aren’t in the mood to tolerate it today, not when he’d worked your nerves earlier with his flirtatious behavior. deep down, you know you only have yourself to blame for getting so unreasonably angered by that. maybe that’s what upsets you most.
you sigh. “just tell me what you want.”
“i want to know why you smiled at that asshole.”
“asshole?” you repeat, laughing. “i know you have a potty mouth but god, take it easy.”
he licks his lips. “see, now you’re defending him. what for? do you know him or something?”
“do i have to?”
“no, but... it would be nice if you did. it would help me understand why he was talkin’ to you like that. all flirty but secretive at the same time. it was like you two had some sort of inside joke.”
“so a man being interested in me is so unfathomable to you that i have to know him or else it’s a joke?” you ask, tone heated.
“no, that’s not–” he groans. “i didn’t mean it like that.”
“what about you and that girl? nami, was it?” you sneer. “if zoro’s considered flirty then i don’t think there’s a word for what you are.”
“you’re mad at me for trying to earn a tip?” he asks, squinting his eyes at you. “you told me to be nicer to customers. i was being nice.”
“you were really selling it,” you scoff.
“don’t believe me?” sanji challenges you. “have you ever seen me flirt with a girl that’s not a customer? a girl that’s not you?”
the words tumble out of his mouth haphazardly, as if they’d been weighing heavy on his mind for a while now. as an attempt to recover — an attempt to make it seem like that admission didn’t mean something, he calmly lights the end of his cigarette. he then brings it to his chapped lips and takes a long drag.
you take the moment to really think about what he’d said. sanji was charming by nature and, of course, he knew that. not only that, but he used it to his advantage. people tended to tip better when he was laying it on thick, that much was true.
however, his second question takes a lot more thought. now that you really think about it, you realize he’s right. you’d never seen sanji flirt with another waiter or member of the staff. you were the only waitress he spoke to that way. the realization makes you feel warm in the face.
“i don’t just flirt with you, you know. i do so much more. remember that plate trick you taught me? i practiced for nights on end ‘til i could do it with my eyes closed. and i don’t tell customers how brainless they sound half the time because i know you don’t like it.”
you only watch as he paces back and forth, rattling off these thoughts that have clearly been plaguing him.
“you still never flirt back, though,” he continues, quietly. “lately i’ve been starting to think that you don’t actually like me at all. that’s the only reason i was being like that at the table. i knew i was only kiddin’ myself but still, i wanted to see if there was a small chance you cared.”
“i…” it’s all you can say. seeing this raw, insecure side of him has left you truly speechless.
he fiddles his cig between his fingers. “listen, i wouldn’t blame you if—”
you finally find your voice. “i like you.”
his voice trails off, engrossed in every word you speak. it’s a simple three words and yet he’s attentive as he waits for more to be said.
you begin to ramble, “i like your passion for the things you care about. i like how you always say what you think. i like that you always have my back. sanji, i… really do like you.”
he gives you a weak smile. “that’s nice, sweetheart, but i don’t think you like me the way i like you.”
“just because i don’t flirt much doesn’t mean i can’t have feelings for you, idiot.”
his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly, processing your words. “you— feelings?” there’s a pause. “good ones, right?”
you can’t help but giggle. “yes, good ones. sure as hell not the ones from three weeks ago.”
he joins you with a laugh of his own, which sounds wobblier than usual. he pulls out a chair next to you, as if this moment has left him so shaken up that he needs to sit down. “who would’ve thought? god, i… i can’t believe it.”
“i’ve never heard you stutter so much,” you tell him, tucking a thin strand of blonde hair behind his ear. when your fingers graze against the skin, it’s warm to the touch. cute, you think.
“i just never expected you to give me a chance.”
“a chance? to do what, exactly?” you prod.
he straightens up. “to make you mine.”
your breath hitches in your throat. “sanji—”
“i’m not going to ask anything of you just yet. i think we should take our time. i want to show you that i can be exclusively devoted to you before we go any further. it’s only fair.”
your heart thumps wildly in your chest at the sincerity behind his words. “you’re willing to wait just to prove yourself to me?”
he nods, taking one of your hands and squeezing it. his dedication required no words.
“so that means no more flirting with the female patrons? even when i’m not there beside you?”
he shrugs as if it’s common sense. “if there’s no pretty waitress i want to make jealous then i don’t see a need to flirt.”
you nudge his shoulder. “and what about your tips?”
“small price to pay.”
satisfied with his answers, you lean in and give him a quick kiss on the cheek; it feels giddy and spontaneous. sanji’s palm instinctively comes up to rest on the spot where your lips had been. he grins before attempting to speak—
a thick, husky accent shakes the walls. what makes it more terrifying is that it’s calling both yours and sanji’s names.
“break time’s over! get your asses back out there and wait some tables, now!”
1K notes · View notes
hispg · 7 months
Text
My sweet friend
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Pairings: Best friend Leon! x fem! Reader
Wc: 2.2k
Summary: After a party you decided to sleep in your best friend's house, little do you know that sleeping is the last thing that he'll do.
Warnings: Porn without plot, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, somnophilia, dub-con, drunk sex, dirty thoughts, a bit of dirty talk, shameless smut.
He was shirtless, just wearing his sweatpants, all at ease as he waited for the episode to finish.
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Another quiet evening in Leon's apartment. He was just lazing around watching some series on TV. It was his day off, so he was making the most of it.
He wasn't one for staying up late, and considering it was already half past ten at night, it was high time he fell asleep.
He was about to doze off on the sofa when he heard the doorbell ring. This puzzled him since he hadn't invited anyone to his apartment that night.
Sleepily, he got up from the sofa and headed for the door. He opened it while rubbing his eyes, not even paying attention to who was waiting for him.
"Well, if it isn't my favorite police officer!" You say in a slightly raspy, slurred voice. You were very loud that night.
He opens his eyes, noticing your figure. He was used to these visits from you. After all, you were best friends, but he'd never seen you so loose like this.
"Uhm, what are you doing here?" The question came quietly from his lips, although he kept a sweet smile for you.
Of course, he heard when you started talking, but paying attention to what you were saying was another story. His eyes traveled down your body, and seeing the way your curves were being hugged by your tight black dress was simply immoral.
He took a deep breath, remembering every detail. It wasn't hard to guess that you were coming from a party, and you looked so beautiful.
"Mhmmm, Leon! Will you let me in?" You whimpered slyly, throwing yourself into his arms.
"Ugh, you stink of alcohol." He grumbles, gently dragging you inside.
All you did was mumble some nonsensical things, which frankly Leon didn't even try to pay attention to. He just dragged you into his room, laying you on the bed.
You needed that, just as you would need him the next day. He swore to God he was trying not to look at you, but the way your curves were so exposed in that dress.
He shouldn't have, but he could already feel his blood pulsing in his lower body. As a precaution, he decided that he would sleep on the sofa for the night until he heard your whimper.
"Am I going to sleep alone? No! What if there's a monster under the bed?" You said in the same drunken, raspy voice. He wondered how much you'd had to drink that night. And for making the situation more amusing somehow, you sat on the bed and pouted at him.
He hides a laugh from you, finding your childish behavior comical, to say the least.
"Ok, I'll sleep here. But if you kick me out of bed, I'll throw you out. Do you hear me?" Leon whispers jokingly, sticking his tongue out at you.
You nod desperately, pulling him into bed with you. He falls onto the bed gently, snuggling into his side.
And once you lay back down on his bed, he can't help but look at you with the most pleading eyes on earth. Even if you're not noticing it, too busy trying to be comfortable on his bed.
But he can't help it. The way your dress always lifts up a bit, threatening to show the curve of your ass. Fuck, too exciting for him not pay attention. He could end this, surely, just putting a blanket over you would solve the problem.
And that's exactly the point, he don't want to solve the problem.
He preferred to stay on his side of the bed, looking at your ass bouncing every time you tried to get on a comfortable position, the way that the dress drawns your curves so damn perfectly.
He swear to God that he's trying to not think about it, but the way that his cock is throbbing on his pants says otherwise. He even grabs a pillow, softly rubbing against his erection, hoping that this helps him to ease a little.
Didn't take long for him to get mad about it, why instead of the pillow, it couldn't be that pretty mouth of yours? That pretty plump, pink lips of yours? Damn, the way that it would fit perfectly around his cock.
Or even better, what if he can use that pretty pussy of yours? He can bet that your pussy it's just pretty as you.
Without even noticing, his hands slipped through his pants, his fingers rubbing the tip of his hard cock. And he can already feel the considerable amount of pre-cum sliding down on this dick, messing his thighs on the process.
When he felt what he was doing, he stopped himself, thinking about how wrong it was. No, it was too dirty to do that while you were beside him.
He breathed heavily, trying to focus on getting his composure back. He got his phone, and started to scroll it, praying that this give him some sleep, so he can just close his eyes and rest, even if he doubt that he's going to be able to sleep this night.
A couple of minutes later, he felt a bit more calm, taking deep breaths and trying his best to not think about you. But when he turned to your side, his mouth fell open, eyes widening at the sight.
There you were, laying on your stomach, your dress was now at your waist, giving him a perfect angle of your bare ass cheeks. His mind goes wild, seeing how round and plump they're.
And then again, he felt his cock hardening, so damn hard that he can see it through the sheets.
"Fuck me.." He murmured, drooling at the magnificent sight of your bare ass.
His hands trembled, and he was willing to at least give a squeeze on that ass, he can't control himself. It was such a hot sin in front of him.
And well, before he even realized his hand was on his cock, palming himself to get some relieve.
His another hand roaming in your arms, gently caressing it. He can't believe how much he gets aroused only by such a simple touch like this. He felt your soft skin under his fingertips, and it was so damn smooth.
You shivered at his touch, even if you were sleeping, just one involuntary action. As if even when you were sleeping, you still wanted his touch.
He couldn't help, letting out a soft whimper while he was jerking off, feeling so excited over you. He can't contain himself, too much for him.
Finally, his hands reached your lower back, and he started to play with the waistband of your panties, wanting to desperately feel what's underneath.
Slipping his hand down further, he gets to touch your ass cheek. Dragging his fingers over it, rubbing and giving little squeezes. Feeling the soft flesh of your ass.
And shit, he felt so turned on by that. Cock twitching and pulsing on his hand, he's sure that once he come, it's going to be a thick,long load. He's more than sure of it.
You stirred, shifting your ass a bit more up, stretching yourself a bit, soon turning back to your normal position.
And then again, Leon whimpered, hand dangerously close to your covered pussy, fingers roaming eagerly your ass, wavering around each centimeter.
That purked little cunt, that he desperately wants to suck and lick until you're begging him to stop. That little cunt that he wants to fuck over and over, and fill it up with his cum. 
In an impulsive thought, his hands slide to your already wet folds, not touching it directly. The tip of his indicator finger stroking it above your soaked panties, and he was whining so damn much right now.
He keeps telling himself that this is wrong, that he shouldn't be doing this. But hell, if is this bad, why you're so fucking wet? There is no way that you didn't want this, too.
The way that you started to rub your thighs together, pressing them against each other so tightly. This was the bit of sight that he needed, and well, he would keep going.
He kept stroking his cock with one hand,  he was trying his best to not cum that fast, but he can't help it. When he entered his finger on you, feeling your tight wet walls sucking him in, he whined loudly, more than he should.
Words can't describe how relieved he felt knowing that you were a deep sleeper this night, maybe from the tiredness along with the fact that you were a bit drunk. Enough to knock you down on this bed.
Then again he slipped another finger, whimpering at the sensation of your tight little cunt. Wanting so bad that it was his cock instead.
His fingers started to grind you, moving at a slow and steady pace. Feeling your gummy and velvety walls embrace him tightly.
"Mhm.." There it was, your sweet voice moaning at his touch.
You started to stir, drowsy opening your eyes. Your eyes nervously darts around, while Leon look at you with a soft smile, as if he wasn't doing anything. But you could clearly feel how hot it was between your legs, you could feel your fluids dripping down your thighs.
Too bad you were too tired to protest, not that you were against it either. Not least because as soon as you realized what he was doing, you swung your hips towards him, thrusting in a way that made what he was doing easier.
Another sweet whimper escapes his lips, his fingers start to move faster. In and out, curving around and hitting your sweet spots. By then, you were buried in the pillow, letting out sleepy cries and moans, and that made him even hornier.
Just seeing that you accepted him even though you were in such a vulnerable state made him lose his mind easily. And without waiting long, he asked you, "Do you want me to rock you?"
It seemed like an innocent proposal at first, not that you were in the best state of mind.
But all you did was nod, wanting him to rock you to sleep. He quickly withdrew his fingers from you, making you whimper at the emptiness you felt.
He licked his fingers, savoring the taste of your sweet honey. And indeed it was just as he imagined, you were as sweet and delicious as honey.
And then he pulled you to him, your back against his chest, one of his hands finding your hips, pushing them forward a little.
In one swift movement, he shoved his cock into you. With one strong, deep thrust, he was all the way inside you.
Only now did you understand what he meant, it wasn't a proposal to go to sleep.
He was going to rock into you.
"Mhmh, Leon..." You moan softly, your fingers curling into the pillow.
"Shh, I'll put you to sleep." He whispers in a little whimper, feeling overwhelmed by the way your pussy nestled his cock so well.
This was better than you imagined, him thrusting gently while holding you by the waist, moving in and out.
He whimpered so much, it was so good the way your spongy walls gripped him, pulled him in.
The poor thing was so needy that he couldn't stop touching you, kissing your neck, biting and licking the soft skin.
Just as he stroked your clit from time to time, only to feel your little hole clench around him.
"I'm close." You moaned a little louder, your nails sinking into the pillow.
He growled in your ear, squeezing your waist and thrusting in without warning. He knew he was close too, and surely he couldn't wait to come inside you, to fill you with his cum until you couldn't take it anymore.
"I'm going to fill you up, until my cum starts leaking out." He murmurs, rocking his hips at an abnormal speed. Moving back and forth without stopping.
"Mhmhmm, ah, ah..." You babble, not even making the effort to speak a single sentence.
"Getting fucking drunk on that cock, aren't you?" He groans, thrusting into your weak spot, making you see stars every time.
Enough for you to fall apart, calling his name again and again, your walls slapping against his cock, spilling everything you had to offer.
That was the last straw for him too, you could feel the first spurts inside you. And just as he imagined, it was a long load, he can see it running down your wet folds. He gives you a satisfied smile, seeing what he's wanted to see for ages.
You were breathing heavily, your lips parted, and your eyes closed. He was almost in the same state, except he was wide awake.
He kisses your cheek, pulling the covers over you both, not even bothering to clean up around here.
"Sleep well, sweetheart." He whispers, tucking you into the same big spoon position.
Giving you a tight hug and light kisses on the neck, and that's how it went until you both fell asleep.
Being honest? He couldn't wait for the next day, because he was going to do it all over again.
Oh, how he would.
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dear-bunnyboo · 11 months
Text
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 || 𝐉𝐎𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖
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the one series au masterlist
ೃ⁀➷ A very public scandal between your ex boyfriend of three years leads you to meet the one.
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Joe Burrow x Singer!Reader / Brief Ex!Jack Hughes x Singer!Reader
𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐍𝐇𝐋 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ reading instructions
Chapters (read in order)
✿ - fluff || ☁︎ - angst || ❣︎ - smut || ☻ - social media
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 || A three year long relationship between your long term boyfriend, hockey star Jack Hughes meets its very public end. ☁︎ ☻
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐇 & 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 || A couple months after pictures of your now ex boyfriend cheating on you surfaced the internet— you finally release your new songs. ☁︎ ☻
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄 || You are invited to the jungle. ✿
𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃 || Social Media blurb following the events of Welcome to the Jungle— The fans and the media reacts to the Joe and Y/N sighting. ✿ ☻
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 || Welcome to Wonderland! It’s finally the day of your opening concert in Cincinnati— marking the beginning of your American tour. As you take the stage for the first time in a few months after the breakup, fans notice a certain someone in the crowds causing quite a stir on top of that you drop your new album the second the concert ends. ✿ ☻
𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃 || Social Media blurb following the events of Wonderland— The rumors are slowly brewing. ✿ ☻
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐘 & 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐑𝐊 || You’re finally in New Jersey for your tour— first time you’ve been in months, all the painful memories slowly creep in and with it comes along a person you never wanted to see ever again, can Joe cheer you up? Watching his game seems to do so… ☁︎ ✿ ☻
𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐘 & 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃 || Social Media blurb following the events of New Jersey & New York— Rumors fly while the internet goes crazy. ✿ ☁︎ ☻
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 || Your interview all the way from Los Angeles, Joe’s press conference back at Cincinnati, and the fans speculating all over the globe. ✿ ☻ ☁︎
𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐀 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃 || Social Media blurb of your stay at California. ✿ ☻
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐖𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐄 || Can Joe save you when everything comes crashing down? ☁︎ ✿ ☻
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄 || The same people who made you a piece in their game are surprised you decided to play. ✿ ☻
𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃 || Social Media blurb following the events of Checkmate— The response to the hidden tracks and Joe and Y/N are spotted. ✿ ☻
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 3𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄’𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌 || Sometimes, you get things right the first time. Others, the second. But the third time, they say, is the charm. ✿
3𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄’𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃 || Social Media blurb following the events of 3rd Time’s the Charm— A quick social media recap of your week. ✿ ☻
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 || Unwanted circumstances leaves Joe no other choice. ☁︎ ☻
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 || Unconditional Love: "Is known as affection without any limitations, or love without conditions." ✿ ☁︎
𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃 || Social Media blurb following the events of Unconditionally— And the crowd goes wild… ✿ ☻
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 || It’s a busy week for you and Joe— from the VMAs to the Super Bow, the two of you can’t help but be shameless. ✿ ❣︎
𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃 || Social Media blurb following the events of Shameless— Everyone celebrates everyone’s achievements. ✿ ☻
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐘 𝐄𝐗𝐄𝐒 || After winning his first Super Bowl, it is finally off season for Joe— nothing seems to go wrong as long as you were with your boyfriend, you were in tranquil wherever he is— well, maybe expect for the ESPY Awards where you bump into a certain someone… ❣︎ ✿ ☻ ☁︎
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 || Trevor turns 23! You are cordially invited to his 23th birthday party… in Michigan… at the lake house… the Hughes’ lake house… along with literally everyone else…
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝒃𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒃 || Social Media blurb following the events of Nothing Matters But You— What a shocking turn of events… ✿ ☻
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐁𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄? || coming soon
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One Shots (Stand-alone fics that take place in the same au)
✿ - fluff || ☁︎ - angst || ❣︎ - smut || ☻ - social media
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐕𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 - 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐆 || Y/N Y/L/N takes the time to show us everything inside her bag. ✿ ☻
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐈𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 || You decided to go live… your fans are nosy, Joe is noisy. ✿ ☻
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 - || coming soon.
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dividers: @cafekitsune
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vivwritesfics · 1 month
Note
lando x reader period!sex ft. 'shameless' - camila cabello?? (i'm on my period if you couldn't tell)
-🌷
DUDE ME TOOOOO (but also imma not write them having period sex bc #trauma lol)
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At first she was just groaning. Every time Lando walked into the room she let out a series of dramatic groans. He'd never call her dramatic, though. Not when he couldn't fathom just how much pain she was really in.
"What can I get you, baby?" He asked as he sat beside her on the bed.
Wordlessly, she reached out and grabbed a hold of his hand. Lando followed her as she rested his large, warm hand against her cramping stomach. He repositioned himself to be comfortable while he held her.
"Oh that feels so much better," she muttered as she scooted back against him.
While she was on her period, Lando would do quite literally anything for her. Well, almost anything.
They'd tried period sex before. For both of them it wasn't enjoyable and they said they weren't going to try it again. Last time she had been on her period she had practically begged him to fuck her. But Lando shook his head, wrapped her in his arms and kissed her.
This time was no different. This time she climbed into his lap as he sat on stream (he very quickly had to end the stream, subscribing to Max's so he could apologise before giving her the attention she wanted).
"What?" He asked, lazy smile on his face as he held her hips.
She moved in his lap, moved again him. Lando tightened his grip on her hips, stopping her. "Babe, baby, Y/N, I'm not gonna fuck you while you're on your period."
She groaned, letting her body fall against his. "You're an ass," she mumbled, pressing her cheek against his shoulder.
"I love you too," he said and kissed the top of her head. "You wanna go and get junk food?" He asked and she nodded. For his girl on her period, he would do (almost) anything.
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