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laneywrld · 1 month

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Oh Baby | part two

part two.

word count: 10.8k

Warnings: wee bit angsty (an argument), mentions of sex + pregnancy

The repercussions of Lewis' birthday night are not as sweet.

You don't remember anything after your life-changing orgasm. You vaguely recall Lewis standing bare and walking into the bathroom. Your eyes were low and droopy, and you could only offer him a loving smile that had his cheeks burning.

"M'gonna clean you up for a second, okay."

You only hum, allowing him to spread you open; this time, it's not sexual at all; it's romantic. Oh god, you thought. You should've known the sex with Lewis would make you go mad.

He swipes the warm cloth between your legs, wiping the glistening remainder of your arousal away.

The sight of his cum oozing from your hole has him taking a harsh gulp. He'd have to remind you to take whatever precautions you found necessary in the morning.

If you weren't so burned out and exhausted, the sight of him walking around in the nude with his golden and tatted-on skin display would've had you jumping his bones again.

You can't help but laugh at yourself as he returns from cleaning himself up.

"What you laughing about?" He grins, hovering over you. You smile, looking at him like he's hung the moon and the stars. "Myself."

The two of you look like two love-sick high schoolers, completely enamored with each other.

Lewis lowers and captures your lips in a kiss, slow and sweet. One peck after the other before his weight is on top of you. He rolls off of you with a groan, turning you so that you're face to-face with him on your side.

His hand falls to your bare waist, pulling you against him.

"We need t'sleep."

He sits up, chuckling as you whine from losing his body heat. With one arm, he gently hoists your legs up enough to pull the comforter from underneath your body. He is back in his place instantly, the cover now offering another layer of warmth.

You're trying your hardest to keep your eyes open and stay in this moment because you'll probably never get to experience Lewis like this again, this loving and intimate.

"Going to be right here in the morning; go to sleep, bunny."

Like he had a spell over you, your eyes close for the final time, and you feel his palm cup your face.

Lewis can't help but watch you fall into slumber. His finger prods against your face, tracing your mouth, eyebrows, and nose. He could already remember every detail of your face. If he were a blind man, he thinks he'd have no problem telling you apart from the rest of the world.

He didn't think it was possible to love you more than he already does, but feeling the way his heart reacts wildly to you laying flush against him naked and comfortable has him ready to read his (prewritten) vows to you in the morning.

He doesn't want to sleep; he wants to stay here and take it all in. He's probably moving too fast, but he can't wait to tell your friends, your guys' family, hell, even the world, that you love him.

Hearing those words from you detonated the lengthiest, most robust orgasm from him that he'd ever experienced. He'd never come so much, so hard in his life.

Hearing you say you love him in your angelic whimpers, tears falling out the corner of your eyes, holding onto him so tight, fuck, he's hard again just thinking about it.

"I love you," he whispers into the night, kissing your forehead before turning off the lights.

You awake first in the morning, dazed and confused. You feel a heavy mass weighing you down. You squint, open your eyes, and you see him. Lewis, your best friend, face nuzzled in your neck, his arm thrown over your waist, holding you tight as if you were going to float away from him in your sleep.

"Oh fuck," you groan lowly as last night's events seep back into you like scenes from a movie.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You gently reach for his arm, carefully lifting it off your body. You pull a pillow from your side, pushing it under his neck as you slide away and gently drop his arm.

You were unsure of how to go about this whole situation. Would he remember it when he woke up? The passionate sex? The beautiful night? You two were off-your-face drunk. Would he laugh at the words you shared? Brush it off. You wouldn't blame him, it'd hurt for you to hear, but logically, it'd make sense; he was in a sex stupor, drunk and horny, and that'd lead to all kinds of words coming out in a daze.

There's no telling how long you stood there like a deer caught in headlights before you began pulling his shirt over your frame. You crept into his closet, thanking God for the array of shoes and clothing of your own filling his space. You tugged on a pair of Nike crew socks and a pair of boyshorts, reaching for the pair of black Ugg Tasmans Lewis had gotten.

You stood in his walk-in closet, staring at yourself in the full mirror, and sighed.

What the fuck were you supposed to do? You were sure you crossed the line this time and abandoned boundaries that were needed in order to keep your feelings at bay. You knew you couldn't keep putting yourself through the same demise.

You didn't know how you would handle the situation when it approached, but in the meantime, you knew you needed to get away from Lewis. You needed to leave his home and be far away from him before you did or said something to ruin your guys' friendship for good.

You creep from the closet quickly, not sparing a glance at the man on the bed; as you grip the handle to his bedroom door, he speaks up from behind you.

He is sat up, back against his headboard, watching you try to leave, "Just going to leave?"

You turn to him awkwardly, hand dropping from the handle, "I-uh, didn't know what you'd want, wasn't sure how to go about-"

"You're not a fucking booty call, Y/n," he says it like you're the most ridiculous person alive like he can't fathom the words coming from your mouth; because he can't.

"Just going to leave me after fucking me? Without a word, while I'm still asleep, that was your plan?"

Your mouth plops open and closed like a fish, searching for the words you stammer out incoherent excuses. Lord, he's got such a dirty mouth.

"Get back in the bed." He cuts you off.

Like a dog to a bone, you stride over to the bed, kicking off your slippers, and you're beside him again.

You're staring at the door, and he is staring at you. The covers hang low over his body, only just covering what had you going crazy last night.

You clear your throat, waiting for him to put you out of your misery. Get it over with, you thought to yourself as you braced for impact.

"Last night was fun," He hummed.

You let out a stifled laugh, finally turning to look at him. His face was still covered in morning haze, and his voice was extra raspy and groggy. He smiles as you, eyes low and droopy.

"I want to address what we-"

You thought you'd be able to take it. You aren't that fucking strong.

"Yeah, no, it's fine." you laugh awkwardly. "I understand. I feel the same way." You don't, but you continue anyway. "We were drunk and in a mad sex stupor, I'm not holding it against you."

"I don't-"

"It was a mistake," you rambled on.

Lewis' mouth plops shut, and he can't tell if his mouth has been dry from his sleep or if the words you're speaking to him have done it.

"You didn't want it?" He question abruptly, putting an end to your nervous break.

"I mean, of course, I wanted it; I initiated it. I was just drunk and turned on; no need to make it a big deal is what I'm saying; we're both off the hook."

Lewis stands from the bed, his bare body on full display. He wants to tell you to shut up and stop downplaying the night he spent with you. He wants you to say to him that you're lying, but you don't, and it's making him angrier as the second goes on.

There are so many sentences he wants to respond to, but he can only grapple with one at a time. You're talking too much, and he's talking too little.

"I was just going to make it easier for you. Usually, you prefer if girls leave, right? That's what you said."

He has said that, but why the fuck would he be talking about you. Why the fuck would other girls include you.

He looks like a wild man, and you look like his blubbering bunny.

"Why do you say shit like that?" He shouts.

His loud tone takes you aback, and your head cranes to watch him incredulously. "What are you talking about?" You fire back.

"You say stupid shit like that all of the time like I'm some kind of fucking manwhore."

You scoff, standing up from the mattress as well. At this point, you are glaring at each other from across the bed.

"You think I don't get enough of it, huh? Do you think I don't get sick of hearing you guys laugh at me? I can't help-"

"I'm not picking at you, Lew, I didn't-"

"But you look at me like that. That's how you feel?"

He wants to know if that is the reason his words went in one ear and out the other.

"Oh please, I've always told you how I feel. If I viewed you as some slut I would've said it." You wave your hand; this had to have been the stupidest argument ever, Lew knew your character, and he knew how much you admired him and his; he'd have to be a fool to think that you'd ever demean him.

"It's not about what you say! It's what you do!"

"Exactly!" you holler back. "I don't fucking laugh at you, Lew! I don't fucking kiki with the rest of the friends when they point out your new fucking flavor of the month! I defend you. You can't control it. You can't help it! You said it yourself it's in your fucking blood to fuck everything with two legs. Like having an itch, you can't scratch. I don't fucking judge you. It's just who you are." You snap. And you hate getting mad because it makes you go on and on.

"Don't even know my character enough to believe I would say some shit about you; supposed to be my best friend, and you can't even properly gauge who I am." It comes out as an angry sneer, and you're right back to slipping on your shoes.

Lewis pulls on a pair of sweats, clamoring over to you; his hand grasps your wrist before you harshly pull it away.

"Last night," he shouts, "I'm not defiling your character; you said it last night."

"Lew, last night." you laugh, you genuinely cackle. "This is because I joked that you ran rabid after leaving Nicole? You did! I was there with you, do you not fucking remember, every night someone new! Just because you slowed down doesn't mean it ever stopped."

"You called me a fucking slut, y/n! Like a fucking bitch, I wouldn't date you, Lew; you're a manwhore." He mocks.

"You called yourself that; I said if the condom fits! You're upset because I said you made it easy for me not to want to be with you? If your ego is bruised, just say that!"

And you're missing the point he is bruised yes, but because he wants you to want him and you don't. Lewis is mad that you don't want to be with him. He is hurt and bothered by the fact that you can brush off the night you spent together like it's nothing.

And you're right; Lewis knows you're right, and he's just trying to find any reason to be mad at you. Of course, you wouldn't return his feelings; when you had them, he gave his affection to other women.

But hearing the person he loves call him out for it doesn't hurt any less. He feels like an idiot now, starting an argument over a situation that wasn't even relevant. He should be telling you he loves you, but now he's gotten you fired up and knows you're hard to diffuse.

You mutter curse words under your breath, frustrated, as your shaking hands keep you from slipping on your shoes. You were never a good angry person, so you'd rather avoid conflict completely. But when your frustrations began ticking inside of you, it was only a matter of time before you finally blew.

"All of this because I answered a fucking question you asked me last night, drunk ass motherfucker! I should've never fucking told you; look where the fuck that's got us, arguing over a relationship that never even happened that we're not even fucking in, so fucking stupid! The fuck do I look like trying to keep a man who doesn't wanna be kept? I'm supposed to wait around and pine after you? No fucking way, I've had my fair share of men like you." You're not saying these words directly to Lewis; he can hear them as you get increasingly frustrated. "Fucking idiot. Calling me out my name because your feelings are hurt; if it was such a fucking issue, you would've addressed it last night. Really you should have fucking addressed everyone else."

Finally, you spin around when the slipper is on, not expecting him to be so close. You jab a finger in his chest, looking up at him. "Yeah, you've pissed me off; this is not because you think I called you a manwhore. You know you sleep around. We all know it; I never said it was a bad thing. What are you really mad at, huh, Lewis? Say it!"

He says nothing, but his brain screams the words over and over: I love you.

You let out a bitter laugh, and you're relatively calm for how fired up you had been seconds ago. "Your anger is misdirected, and I'm not going to take it. So when you figure out what's got you so pissy, talk to me because I'm not here for you to yell at."

You're leaving his room in an instant. He can hear your footfall declining down his stairs and the way you snatch your keys from the hook. You don't slam his door, but from his window, he watches as you angrily march to your car, slamming your door and reversing from his driveway way too fast. It has his heart dropping as you nearly ram into another car.

He sighs as you pull down the street and disappear from his sight. "Fuck!" He roars, his fist shooting into his wall. He lets out a deep breath, his hand coming to rub over his face. Fuck.

He feels choked up and tingly as his eyes water. The two of you had never fought this bad, which says a lot, especially for how long you've been friends. He's never called you out of your name, and today he called you a bitch. You were far from a bitch, you were his sweet bunny.

You just wanted to make sure he was comfortable and that you stayed within the bounds. How were you to know that he didn't want you to leave?

You're a mess as you drive home, tears streaming down your face. Surprised you even made it there safely.

When you're home and starting your shower, you see all of the evidence Lewis left behind on your skin, and it breaks you down into a fit of tears. You wish you had never crossed the lines because you were sure the two of you wouldn't return from this.

Lewis has yet to contact you. It's been two weeks since that day. You tried to go about life as normal, but it was hard when you had spent every waking day talking to Lewis. You hadn't seen Roscoe since Lewis' birthday either, and that tore an entirely new part of your heart. Roscoe was like your child; he was with you when Lewis had to be on the road, so essentially, you spent an abundance of time with your four-legged friend.

You could reach out to him, but you'd be dammed if you put your pride to the side to alleviate your best friend's superiority complex.

He yelled at you, calling you out of your name first. Call it childish, but it wasn't your job to apologize first. Of course, you planned on apologizing for your own actions, for calling him an idiot, because you truly regretted it, and it has been hanging heavy over your head ever since then. But he had to give in first.

You haven't gone out with your friends as a group since then either, opting to go on your regular outing with one or two of them at a time. You've seen in Miles' story that Lewis has been out with them many times. You try not to cry as you see Lewis in the background of a video chatting up another girl in Daniel's close friends. After the initial gloom, you felt infuriated.

Here you were giving him grace, withholding time with your friends so as not to make him uncomfortable and to give him time to come to his own senses and the whole time, he's out committing the same crime that made him blow up at you. Here you were suffering because after all of these years, he still didn't show you the same grace he shows others when it comes to communicating. Why does he shut down when it comes to you but is so vocal and mature with his feelings to other people. Two things were obvious, you weren't kids anymore, and he wasn't to be coddled by you anymore. And secondly, you were done making deluded excuses for this man. He'd take accountability when it came to you.

Lewis awakes with his head pounding; he is in a random hotel, a random woman atop his chest in deep slumber. He sneaks from the bed, searching for his phone and tugging on his clothes.

He was drunk off his ass and chatting her up because she looked like you, and in the end, when they made it back to her room, he couldn't get hard without thinking about you, and by that time, he was over it, not wanting to do anything with the woman at all. You really fucked him up.

When Lewis arrives home, he is barely sober. He pours food into Roscoe's bowl, rubbing his head.

Roscoe has been feeling the impact of your departure, too. Could Lewis even say you left him? He sighs as Roscoe whines, nudging your walking shoes left by the front door. "I know, boy. I miss her too."

Lewis didn't know why he couldn't just call you and tell you he was sorry. You left the ball in his court, so obviously, you were open to having a mature conversation with him. But as the days went on and he still hadn't called, he began to realize that perhaps he had waited too long, and it was doing more damage than good.

He stumbles up to his room, stripping from his clothes and plopping onto his bead, Roscoe is up and beside him in an instant, snuggling into his side. Like routine, his hand reaches over to his nightstand, rustling through the stack of papers until he finds one of the many letters you'd gifted him for his birthday.

Lewis always kept your letters, especially when he was far away and traveling; nothing made him happier as a kid than his dad arriving with handwritten messages for him when you couldn't make it to his races. Your birthday gift, though, was a collection of unsent letters you'd had for years, dating back to as early as high school. He reread them all, scanning every word like they were the bible. He never told you this, but he kept them in a folder that traveled everywhere with him when he had to be gone for longer periods of time.

The letter he rereads now has been attached to him since the day you left, which was from your second year in high school.

Hello Lewis,

I won't be able to make it to your race next week. Get this, I'm on punishment at sixteen years old! You're always getting me in trouble, and you're not even here :( Do you remember Henry Glasgow? Let's just say he's finally gotten what he deserved. No matter what anyone says, your work is paying off, and you're doing great! I saw you on the TV the other day, and boy, did you look great out there. Mum recorded it for me, so I rewatch it so many times a day like a weirdo. I miss you tons, Lew, but I'm so very happy that you were able to get out of this forsaken city. Don't worry; I'm still defending your honor while you're away; let Henry's nose be proof of that. I've made a friend since you've gone away, her name's Whitney but I call her whit whit just like you're my lewlew; I can't wait for you to meet her. She's very bold and different from what we're used to, but she's a sweetheart. I love her to pieces, but I love you wholly, so she's not really doing much to heal how much I miss you, Lew. This is the longest we've been away from each other, and although we talk on the telly every day, I would like to be with you again. But nevertheless, I am so very proud of you, and I support you full send. I know you can be the greatest you already are if you ask me. But I can't wait until the world knows your name. Just promise you won't leave me behind when it does, yeah? Keep moving fast; Pops likes to brag about you everywhere we go, and I love to hear anyone hype you up like you deserve; plus, I bet twenty bucks on you to win next week, and my allowance is already gone, so make me some money. I can only give you the same words of encouragement you've heard a million times, I am truly my father's daughter. You're a cheetah, Lew: move silently and let your actions do the talking. Make quick decisions, but move even quicker. I know it's hard, but don't ever let what they say get to you; you've got a greater mission to accomplish. There are people out there who admire you and have faith in you. Let me be proof of that. Always remember that what you can't say, I will.

Love you more than you'll ever know, Lew.

p.s tell Nico that unless he wants me to go broke, he needs to push it a little harder.

From Bunny. <3

One day of no contact became a week, and a week became a month; soon, he was in the Middle East racing in the first grand prix of the season two months later, and he still hadn't heard from you. He was racing terribly, and he couldn't even blame it on the car. On the track, he wasn't focused; he could only think about you. And that had put him into the wall (literally) more times than he could count. He had let the best person in the world slip from his grasp, and his mind couldn't grasp that.

His friends knew something was up between the two of you and for the first time ever they decided not to meddle, and he appreciated it just as he was sure you did too. That didn't mean that he didn't ask about you.

Every call home to his mum he asks about you. He sits on the phone with your dad listening to updates on your life. They never question anything between you and him so he assumes you haven't disclosed your argument to anyone. But they know, they always know.

He could tell you were taking every step in order to ensure that you wouldn't run into him. When your family came out to see him you were miracously always busy with work. When your friends invited you out you were never feeling well.

He felt bad that you felt you had to sacrifice your enjoyment just to not be around him.

He revels in the glimpses he gets of you on your friends story, chuckles at the constant pictures Daniel posts of you that you obviously wouldn't have agreed to. He knows you probably threatened to kill him everytime. He likes every picture.

He nearly cries as he watches you from a fan account, bouncing Nicholas up and down as he places on podium in one of his own races.

Your dad's birthday was next week, and he knew you weren't going to miss it. He also knew he wasn't going to skip out on your father, so he mentally prepared himself to be a man and get his shit together. There was no way you could avoid him when you were stuck with him for a week.

You, Miles, and Nicholas had been out and about all day exploring the town before you finally decided to head back to the villa. When you three initially left, everyone else was bunkering down for a post-flight nap.

When you opened the door, you froze in your tracks as you saw Lewis hugging your dad in greeting. You don't know why you figured he wouldn't show, but when he wasn't on the flight with the rest of you guys, it had your hopes high.

Everyone's head swivels toward the front door as you emerge, he makes eye contact with you and even goes as far to offer you a smile. You don't return it. Nicholas rushes pass you to hug his brother jostling the many bags in your arm as he passes by.

Lewis hugs him, but his eyes once again fleet back to you.

You suck your teeth, looking away from him and waltzing up the stairs and towards the back of the house where you had claimed your room.

You hardly had the time or the energy to worry about Lewis. You were tired, and the Brazilian heat had you going through it. You kick your bedroom door closed and drop your bags onto your bed.

All you had to do was get through a week of being in his presence. You had your friends and family here with you. It wouldn't be too hard to stay away from him. You shower and then get dressed right in time for dinner.

The sun was still out by the time you descended the stairs; everyone had been lounging around in the living room waiting for you to finish.

Lewis feels like a starved bear as the dress sways against your thighs. Like always, you look beautiful.

"And the princess has arrived!" Your cousin shouts, "Girl, hurry your ass up, we've been waiting on you. I'm hungry." The room erupts in laughter as you pause on the stairs and shoot her the middle finger.

"Doesn't the princess deserve a grand entrance?"

Your head immediately turns to Lewis as if you can feel his stare on you. He sits, legs spread open, hands folded in his lap, and looks at you like he had had the night of his birthday. Like he wants to devour you.

You shake the memory from your head as everyone heads out of the door and piles into the three sprinters out front.

"Aw, twins!" Whit coos, pointing between you and Lewis, "So in sync."

You let out the fakest laugh he's ever heard, wiping the smile clean from his face, "Ah ha ha, let's go."

When it's your time to pass through the door, you feel a presence behind you, and you know it's Lewis as his signature cologne wafts through your nostrils. As you descend down the front steps, you feel his hand come up to rest against your lower back.

A part of you wants to tell him to back up and that you don't need his assistance, but the soft spot you'll always have for him has you accepting his graces.

You freeze, watching as two of the three vehicles pull off, fuck.

So much for being able to avoid him.

You can still feel him hot on your trail as you waddle to the last sprinter. You're helped up by the driver, offering him a sweet smile. Ironically enough, the last two seats are side by side in the back row.

You groan internally, slipping into the seat by the window. Lewis follows after you, slipping between you and Miles.

"So what? This is the kid's bus?" You joke, leaning over the seat in front of you to tug on your cousin's braids. "Be happy it is." She grins, pulling a bottle of Clase Azul from the floor. Everyone erupts into cheers as she passes the bottle around. She hands it to you first, but you quickly pass it on to Lewis. You hadn't drunk alcohol since that night, and when you tried, the smell of it physically made you sick. You were convinced that the stress of that night had made your brain repel your favorite pastime.

"Girl." Whitney gasped, "You're not drinking?"

"Hell no, I gag just thinking about that shit."

It's been so long since Lewis last heard your voice and seen you so carefree he wants to shout out his praises as you start a conversation within the van.

Your leg is flush against his, your thigh rubbing against his own with every jostle you take down the bumpy roads.

You don't speak to Lewis throughout the entire ride. When he speaks, you tune into your phone or manage another conversation with those around you. Though it does bring you an unwanted sense of comfort to hear his childlike giggles again. You'd missed them just as much as you missed him.

This time, when the doors open, they are opened on your side, and you cheerfully hop out, wrapping your arms around your girls and skidding to the dock where you can see a great portion of your family and friends already loaded onto the yacht.

You loved celebrating; it was no secret you were the life of the party anywhere you went, which is why you were always so grand when it came to spending time with the people you loved. Life is beautiful, as your father would say; you might as well live like it.

Lewis and the guys exit behind you all, he watches you scamper off with that stunning smile on your face waving to the family members and friends you hadn't saw yet.

An hour goes on of everyone mixing and mingling; your family is technically Lewis' as well, so it's no surprise when he is pulled into hugs and smooches left and right. It makes it easy to avoid him every time you sense him getting closer. You see him catching up with your grandparents, aunt, uncles, and cousins.

He is close to your entire family, which made it even more annoying for you to be asked about Lewis in damn near every conversation. You were never nasty about it because, after all, you two shared the same relationships, so you simply smiled and directed your family toward him with every inquiry. You didn't expect his relationship with your family to end just because you two weren't...you two?

And then another wave of questioning is aiding in your irritated mood, we're the two of you even best friends anymore. Best friends don't go months without speaking to each other.

Lewis can't help but watch your every move. It's obvious to everyone that there is a lingering tension between you two. There has never been a moment where the two of you weren't connected at the hip. So, the safe distance you're keeping between the two of you is making questions arise. He is standing off to the side, his mind running; he's never once felt like an outsider in your life more than now. His feelings were hurt because, for the first time, he was getting updates about you from others rather than being the one dishing the facts out. He's used to knowing everything when it comes to you, and now it feels like he's chapters behind in a book everyone else is close to finishing.

"I know my daughter." Your dad speaks up from behind Lewis as he watches him watch you. Lewis turns his head, catching sight of your father before walking and leaning his back onto the railing beside him. "And I know you just as well; why are you two acting like divorcée?"

"What's happened, my boy?"

Lewis shakes his head, eyes downcast to the glass in his hand. He couldn't tell your father that he'd spent the night of his birthday making love to you and having the most romantic twilight he'd ever experienced. He couldn't tell him that he spewed out his true feelings in the midst of it and fucked shit up the next morning.

"We haven't talked in months," Lewis admits.

Your dad leans away from Lewis, eyes set in disbelief. "Months?"

Lewis only nods, looking straight ahead at you. You're standing with his father infront of a group, his arm thrown over your shoulder, yours wrapped around his waist, his father is obviously a wee bit tipsy as he laughs boisterously, you're supporting his frame throwing in side comments to whatever story his father was telling.

"Do you want to talk to her?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then why are you not?" He inquires like it's all so simple.

"Because it's your daughter," he scoffs. "And when she's mad, she's mad. It's not that easy."

You father laughs, "She is her mother's daughter." He corrects. "You know her, eventually she always puts her pride to the side. She's waiting for you to talk to her first. Have you tried."

"No, sir."

He lets out a boisterous laugh that has a sheepish smile skittering onto Lewis' face.

"You're too old to still be scared of my baby. My best advice is this: you lot know each other better than anyone in the world and love each other more than anyone in the world. If you think she's willing to give that up and vice versa, you're both idiots."

Lewis nods. They stand in contemplative silence as the older man's hand comes up to clap against his shoulder, where he holds onto Lewis as they sip from their glasses.

"You know," Lewis lights up, "that's where she gets that shit from; she called me an idiot when we argued."

"And were you being an idiot?" He queries.

"Well, Yes, sir."

"Okay then." He walks away not sparing so much as another word to Lewis and he is once again left alone.

You were relieved when dinner started, only to approach the table and see name cards posted in front of every seat. Just your luck. Right next to your seat, the postcard next to you reads Sir Lewis.

This time, you physically couldn't control your reaction as you threw your hands on your hips, your eyes searching for someone to switch with. Just as you reached over to swap Lewis' and Anthony's place cards, the group approached, and everyone stared at you with inquisitive eyes as you slowly dropped them back into place.

You smiled, sliding into your designated seat, eyes straight ahead as your father and Lewis slipped into their own.

Lewis side-eyes you as he sees that it was his name you tried to swap. You were always so petty.

You feel his stare on you and give him your back to face as you focus on your father who stands tapping his wine glass with a knife.

Like always your father begins to give a speech. You loved listening to him speak, even if he was lecturing you, he always managed to engrain some life lesson into your memory.

"Welcome, family and friends. I want to first start off by saying I appreciate you all for coming; if you're here today, you're either family or a friend, so in the end, that makes you all family. No matter when or how I met you, you have touched a special place in my heart, and you've made this life of mine beautiful. We've all become connected somewhere along the line, and now, hopefully, we're stuck with each other for the rest of our lives. As each year goes on and I grow older with it, I am reminded of just how meaningful it is to carry relationships on with you from one year to the next. We've done that." He laughs.

"Most of us have been in each other's lives since the beginning, Anthony has been my best friend since we were nine." He chuckled tilting his glass at Lewis' dad. Anthony raises his own right back at him.

"We've done everything together, damn near walked through each part of our lives together. He had a son, and months later, I had my daughter. Bam!" he laughs, and the table laughs with him. You smile at the mention of your father and his best friend; they were truly a pair like no other.

"Our friendship continues on through our children; we pass on our camaraderie; through our kids, we get more kids." He motions around to your friends. "And our family is even bigger. I've got my family, I've got my wife's family, Anthony's family, our children's family, and we're all now family. We've got each other for life! We're proof of that; we stick together and treat each other right, and if we don't, we always find our way back together again and start over because that's what a family does. Every year, you guys show up for me, and I show up for you. And I can't think of a better way to spend my birthday than with you. Life is beautiful and even more beautiful when you're spending it with the right people. So I thank you for being the right people."

There are no dry eyes after his speech. You reach over to hug him when he sits, pressing your lips to his cheek. "I love you, Dad."

Chatter emerges as everyone marvels at your dad's words. To your left, Lewis is quite emotional. His dad's arm comes up to pull his son into his side, and for the first time today, you watch him with no shame. He looks like a kid again in his dad's arms as he gets emotional, and your heart breaks.

It's not in your character to be mean to Lewis. You know this, which is why you haven't even bothered being a bitch to him, even though a part of you desperately craves to hurt his feelings like yours has been for the last two months. You pull your phone from your purse, and before you unlock it, his reflection glares at you from your blank screen. He isn't facing you but staring blankly ahead, and your resolve crumbles slightly.

He looks like little Lew, face set in a frown and tuned out to the world around him. You think back to all of the times he'd get into his own head, bothered about why the other kids didn't talk to him and why they were nasty to him when they did. How many times he's nestled into you the same way when he felt his heart take a hit.

He's always been a softie. Wearing his heart on his sleeve, it was one of the things you admired about him so much. His ability to let people see him fully. You were never good at that. If you were, you could gaurantee that you and Lewis wouldn't even be in this situation to begin with.

You are sure that you can hear your heart beating rapidly as you reach down and grasp onto his hand. You pretend to scroll mindlessly through your phone when you hear his breath hitch. Lewis struggles to keep his resolve as he intertwines his fingers with yours. He could cry again right now.

Your dad was right; he'd always been right. You think back to the times when you were younger when you would tell him why you and Lewis were sitting so far apart.

"Baby," he would lift your head with a gentle smile, "You know how many times Anthony got on my damn nerves or we had a quarrel, even with your mother. Just have to talk it out, right? That's the kind of friendship you don't let slip away, no matter what. And if he's mad at you, you fight for him. If you're mad at him, you fight for him. Don't ever let something ruin it when you could fix it before it gets bad."

When the food comes out, your stomach flips, sushi lines the table, and your insides feel like they're being shaken. You snatch your hand from Lewis' and toss it over your mouth as the fish is placed in front of you.

"Baby, you love sushi." Your dad says, pushing your plate away from you.

"I don't know what-" You don't finish your sentence rushing away from the table in a put together manner, you hurry to the other side of the boat where you make it just in time to empty your stomach. Nothing comes out as you dry heave over the water. A hand comes to rub at your back and your hair is being held back.

"Hey, you okay?" It's Lewis and his tone is full of concern as his hand constanly moves in caring circles.

You jump away from his comforting hands, throwing a glare in his direction.

"What do you want?" you hiss, preparing to step down from the altitude of the railing.

He holds out his hand ready to help you down and you almost reach for it before huffing and turning baack around folding your arms over the railing. If the sushi wasn't going to have you throwing up Lewis prescence surly would. You felt overwhelmed as he speaks up from behind you.

"Wow."

"Wow, what, Lewis?"

"So I'm Lewis now?"

"Is that not your name?" You snap back.

You feel his body heat behind you, this time closer.

"Not to you, you know that though."

"Nicknames are for friends."

"Shut up." He smacks his teeth.

"No!" you argue, turning around your chest bumps into his, "You shut up!"

you both childishly bicker back and forth.

“What are you being mean to me for, huh? Don't say that."

"I've got a right to be mean to you."

"I don't got time for your nasty ass attitude right now." He says.

"Good. The fuck." you ramble, turning around, "nobody asked you to follow me."

"I followed you because you're still my best friend, stubborn ass."

"Couldn't tell." You rebutted.

"See, I'm trying to talk to you, y/n. Why say something like that? Stop acting like-." He groans.

"Like what, like a bitch?" You look at him over your shoulder, watching his face drop. "That's what I thought."

"I wasn't about to call you a bitch."

Yeah, again, you think.

You stand in silence for a while, listening to the sound of the water sloshing against the boat.

"Your dad has a knick for speeches." He announces, "Always targeting us, huh?"

"That's my dad for you."

"I-, you're still my best friend, that will never change. No matter how long we go without talking to each other."

"I know." It comes out as a sigh and you let out a groan, dropping your head into your folded arms.

"Why didn't you call me?" You ask, "I waited for you to call."

"I was scared, I knew I fucked up, and I think us having sex created a weird dynamic with it. I kinda felt like a booty call or something, I don't know; you trying to leave triggered something in me, made me feel like it wasn't..."

He lets out a sigh, and you know he has that hard thinking face on. "meaningful what we did together." He finally concludes.

"I thought that's what you would've wanted, I'm sorry."

"For other people, yes. But not my best friend."

And there are those two words again, like two blades slicing you in half, best friend, that's all you'd ever be.

Lewis was your best friend, nothing less, nothing more. This is all it'd ever be, and that thought alone, although valid, had you knuckling at your eyes.

"You okay, bunny?"

You can't help the sad smile that appears or the way your heart flutters at the nickname; no matter the situation, you'll always be his bunny.

You slump back against his chest as you step back from the railing. "I'm fucking dying," you whine, and he laughs at your dramatics.

"You're not dying, love." He chuckles. He stands flush behind you, one arm coming around to dangle off your shoulder, the other holding your hand at your side. "How are you going to tell me?" You huff, and it seems as if nothing ever happened between you two as he turns you around and holds you close; he throws both of his arms over your shoulder, wrapping you into his tight embrace, and your face is crammed in his neck, breathing in his scent.

And in that moment, you both could've sworn fireworks erupt in the sky as your hearts beat against each other's chest. It feels like the missing piece in your lives from the last two months has been returned, and the machine is running excellently.

"Because I know you, what's wrong, huh? Got a tummy ache." He coos. And his soft, caring tone has your stomach doing flips.

You don't know how long you stand there in his embrace before you finally wrap your arms around his torso.

"I'm still mad at you." You declare.

"I know."

"I still want an apology."

"I'm sorry."

You feel your nausea ease away as you sway to the beat of his heart against your chest.

This is the first moment of relief Lewis has felt in two months, his heart is not in a panicked state and his mind is even better off.

"I'm sorry for calling you an idiot. It's been bothering me since I said it." You announce, "I don't think you're an idiot. I still think you're the smartest person in the world."

Your eyes water as you apologize, and Lewis hears the sniffle you let out. You remember how much it hurt your heart to see Lewis struggle to catch on in school as a kid, the words the teachers would spit at him, and how he'd let it get to him. You never wanted to make him feel the same way.

"I don't want you to think of me like the rest of them."

Lewis grasps your shoulders, inching you away softly, "I'd never look at you that way," he declares. "I was being an idiot, I know how you meant it, bunny. I should be apologizing for what I said to you. I don't think you were being a bitch; I've never in my life thought about you that way or even remotely considered calling you out of your name. I was just mad."

His hands come up to cup your face, and his thumbs swipe away the wetness underneath your eyes. He sighs, pulling you back into him. "I don't ever wanna not talk to you again, fucked me up."

"But you never called me."

"Didn't think you wanted me to, didn't know what to do, you'd never been that mad at me before, was scared." He admitted.

"I thought you were finally done with me."

"Never that."

"Are we okay?" You examine.

"We're always going to be more than okay. It feels right with me still, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Okay then, we're back like it never happened." He assured.

And he thinks he can stay like this forever, you in his arms as the sunsets on the boat. He can't think of anything more peaceful than watching the sky change colors and the warm hues making your skin glow in the softest way as he revels in the comfort of your warm body and beating heart.

He wants to unleash his feelings right then and there, "I love you."

"I love you more."

You both speak honestly, wishing that the other would return the same affection. Your parents watch on from above.

"Wouldn't know if it hit them over the head." Your mom shakes her head sipping her wine.

"So in their face." Anthony exhales, throwing his hand up, "Mhmm, mhm, mhm."

"Those are our kids, damn idiots." Your dad finishes, but unlike his counterparts, he wears a knowing smile on his face.

"There are a few things we need to clarify before we move on from this." You announce before you rejoin your family and friends.

"What's that?"

"That was a one-time thing for the sake of our friendship; no more sex, no more mentioning it; it never happened."

Lewis freezes in his spot, his arm falling from your shoulder as you take another step. You, too, freeze, turning around to take him in.

He is standing, his eyes furrowed like he's in deep thought.

That would be an easy rule for him to follow if he wasn't struggling as you speak to think about anything other than you every day and how great you felt around him.

"What?" You question.

"I-" he coughs, "I can do that."

"Don't make it weird." You warn, eyeing him.

"Was the best sex I've ever had in my life, though." He admits with a smirk. You push him away as he tries to wrap his arm around you again.

"Goodbye, Lewis." You laughed, walking ahead of him.

He happily stays behind you, watching the way your bottom moves in the dress, and once again, he feels the same burning desire. He could get by without mentioning it if you wanted, but he was absolutely and completely sure you ruined him for anyone else.

Ever since he could remember, his passionate moments never ensued without you flickering through his mind at least once to jump-start him. But actually having you, God he was sure he'd never see another woman again.

As you rejoin everyone else at the front of the boat, you once again see everyone spread out, and you realize just how long you'd been marveling at Lewis' presence as you notice the appearance of the moon.

You gasp as you see a serving bowl full of mango calling your name as you pass by the treat table. You pick it up with ease, stuffing your mouth as you approach your friends who, like always, have banded together in their own little world.

You make eye contact with Whitney, who is looking at you in pure wonder. You shoot her your own look of inquisition. When you take the empty seat beside her, she is still eyeing you like you have two heads.

"Girl, what?" you whisper, your mouth full of mango.

She shakes her head at you, turning and muttering under her breath. You slap her bare thigh, "what?" you whisper shout.

"We'll talk about it later." She declares, throwing back two shots back to back.

"Whit," you whine, "you know I hate when you do that."

"Yeah, but trust me, later is better."

You sigh, turning away from her and getting back to eating your fruit as Lewis approaches the group and takes the seat beside Mori. "Someone’s happy." Miles teases.

You look up at him, and sure enough, there is a shit-eating grin covering his face. "More than happy."

Whit is still mumbling to herself as you stare back at Lewis, when you look at her she is digging through her bag, "No, there's just now way."

Sure enough, as soon as you make your way back to the villa, Whitney is dragging you away from the rest of the group and into your bedroom. Lewis shoots you a questioning look as she yanks you from your seat. You can only shrug at him as you trip over your own two feet.

She opens the door to your connecting bathroom, waving her arms for you to enter dramatically after you just stand there and stare at her.

"Ouu, girl." You warn, walking past her, "I need you to start using some words."

When you step foot into the bathroom, she pushes something into your palm.

You angle your head down, realizing that what lies in your hand is a pregnancy test. You throw it at her in shock. "Eww bitch."

"It's not used, dummy." Whit catches it.

You gasp, reaching for her hands, "Oh my god! Are you pregnant?" You whisper shout, excitement seeping through.

"No!" She shouts back in a whisper closing your bathroom door. Your hands are cupped in front of your chest like an exicited child. She turns to face you again only this time she's adorning the most serious look she's ever given you.

"I think you are, though."

Your hands drop down to your sides, one going to your hip that pokes out as you scoff.

"Whit." It's all you say.

"Y/n. Please just take it, ease my mind."

"What even makes you think I could be pregant whit." You huff pulling the stick from her waiting hand.

She sits on the side of the bathtub as you lift your dress and plop down onto the toilet.

"You've been feeling out of it for a while; at first, I thought it was the heat, but you've been having nausea and headaches long before this trip. The smell of alcohol makes you sick, and you're a fucking alcoholic, c'mon now-"

"I am not a fucking alcoholic-"

"The sushi! You fucking love sushi. Out of everything to eat, an entire fucking serving bowl of mangoes, so many fucking mangoes, Y/n!"

As she continues, you begin to feel nerves bubble in your gut as you tinkle onto the test.

Your heart drops to your ass as you put the pieces together.

You haven't had a period in two months, which didn't raise any alarms before; irregularity was common for you. But now that you think about it, you have been unusually sick in the mornings and around certain foods and smells. You have been craving some things more than usual, and your scale shows a tiny bit of weight gain.

Two months ago you had sex with Lewis. With no condom, and he came inside of you. He most definitely fucked his cum back into you. The memory has you clutching your chest with a gasp that made Whit reach out to catch you just in case you toppled over.

"Oh my fucking god." you gasp, pulling the stick from beneath you and tossing it onto the sink. You wipe yourself and then stand to wash your hands.

"Oh fuck." you panic, and your hands are coming up to grasp your head.

"On the bright side, if it's positive, you're a mommy. You've always wanted to be a mom!" Whit cheers softly.

You turn to her with quickness. "Yes, Whit! When I'm fucking married and settled down, not when I fucking-"

The alarm tone from Whit's phone has you shutting up mid-sentence.

"I set the alarm when you peed," she whispered meekly.

She motions for you to pick up the test, and you wanna tell her to get out when you see the excitement covering her face.

You reach behind you, hand tapping blindly against the counter until the stick is in your hand.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath through your nose.

When you open your eyes, you see the result clear as day, which has you clutching your pearls.

"I'm going to pass out, I can't breathe."

"Let me see!" Whit all but shouts, jumping up, but you're already reaching for the door handle.

"Where are you going?" She shrieks as you swing the door open, leaving her behind.

"I need to tell Lewis."

"Oh boo," she pouts, "I understand he's your best friend and all, but at least tell me first, I'm the one who brought the test."

You turn to her with watery eyes and a look that tells her all she needs to know.

"Lewis is the baby's father?" She whisper shouts, jumping back like you've thrown cold water in her face.

"What the fuck? When did you sleep with fucking Lewis?" She ponders aloud. "Oh my god, is this why you two haven't been you two?"

"Whit," you groan. "I promise, I don't have the mental capacity to unpack all of this with you right now. There's a fucking baby growing inside of me, my best friend's baby and I don't know what to do with myself."

"Yeah," she nods sympathetically, "I'm sorry, yeah. You talk to Lewis and when you're ready I'll be here for you to lean on." She pulls you into a hig before grasping you by the shoulders.

"Whatever you decide just remeber it's your choice, okay? You call the shots Y/n. You know I'll support you either way, and you know Lewis, he'll understand."

You sniffle, wiping your cheeks with the back of your palm.

"Get yourself together, mama, I'm going to send him in, okay?"

You nod and rush over to your closet. You pull a pair of sweats on and then pull off your dress and toss on an oversized hoodie.

There is a knock on your door before it gently creaks open. Lewis pokes his head through with a gentle smile.

"Hey, everything okay? Whit told me to meet you in here, I didn't know if she wanted to strangle me or hug me, but she said it was urgent."

You shove the pregnancy test into the pocket of your hoodie, stepping out of the closet.

He enters the room, gently closing the door. He approaches you with his arms already open, seeing the teary expression.

"Lewis, can you actually sit down for me. I have to talk to you about something."

He's not sure what he expects to come from your mouth, but it wasn't what he heard.

"I'm pregnant. It's yours."

You surely weren't expecting him to look so relieved. "Why are you looking so-"

"Are you sure?"

You scoff, crossing your arms, "Yes, I'm sure it's yours, you dick. I don't sleep around-"

"What, no! Are you positive that you're pregnant?"

"Oh." You halt, and you pull the test from your hoodie, watching as he approaches you. He takes it from your hands, looking at it with sparkling eyes, "Wow."

"Wow?" You question, "Lewis, I'm pregnant with your child. Freak out a little."

"Why," he asks, "Are you freaking out? How do you feel?" His eyes are no longer on the test in his hands but staring intently into yours.

"Yes, I am freaking out, there is a fetus in my womb."

"Yeah, yeah." He breathes. "Whew, talk to me. What do you want?"

"I- I want to." You shake your head, pushing past him to sit on your bed. He follows after kneeling in front of you and placing the test beside you.

"I am with whatever you want, you know that, right?"

"Yes, but."

"But nothing," Lewis states. "If you want to keep our baby, you keep it. I know you've always wanted a family."

"Exactly," you sigh, "a family."

"Bunny, we're already a family. I'll be there you know I will."

"What about everyone else? What will they say?"

"I don't care about other people or what they have to say. I only care about you and what you want."

"I want to keep it, and I understand if it's not something you want. Won't hold it against you; you didn't ask for-"

"You're losing me. I'm not just going to let you raise our kid on your own. I want people to know it's my child."

"Lewis, they're going to-"

"Once again, I don't care what people think."

"Oh my god, I'm going to be prancing around all jolly and happy carrying your child, and when people ask, I'll just say, oh yeah, Lewis and I had very erotic sex, and now I'm carrying his illegitimate child."

"Don't call my child illegitimate. What the fuck?" He smacks his teeth.

"My child," you state, mushing his head back.

His hands reach up and rest on each of your thighs. "Our child."

"Still illegitimate," you sigh. "What if I find a man who'll marry me pregnant? Does that still-"

"I'm the Dad." Lewis asserts, he knows you're joking, but the idea of another man marrying you, let alone claiming his child, has him ready to kill a man who doesn't even exist. Besides, he would marry you in a heartbeat.

This is all too real for you at the moment, and you find yourself letting out another whine, "My job, I have a job, Lew."

"You and I both know that I make more money than I can spend." He assures you, his hands now rubbing up and down your legs.

He looks like an excited puppy waiting at your feet.

"Lew, that's not realistic."

"Why not?" He scoffs.

"Because what if one day you start hating me and them I'm left alone with-"

"That could never happen, bunny, that'll never happen."

"I'm sorry, I'm just nervous. I've never had a baby before."

He laughs, pulling himself up onto the bed beside you and cupping your hands in his. "We'll figure it out together. Gonna be the best parents in the world."

"Our parents are going to die." You laugh.

"Your mom probably overheard the others chatting about how we'd probably end up having a family one day."

"My dad still thinks we're going to marry each other one day. Ew, he's going to know I had sex with you." You cringe.

"Don't say it like you didn't enjoy it." He feigns offense.

"We know who enjoyed it more, Sir."

"I'm not denying it, don't call me that." His arm reaches back and pulls one of your pillows onto his lap.

"You horny fuck." You cackle, watching the sheepish look blanket his expression.

"I can't help it; you're calling me sir; you're carrying my child. That's two kinks in one."

"Lewis!" you shriek, whacking him with your own pillow.

"You do realize having sex has brought a lot of sexual tension to the surface, or is that just me?"

You could talk about things with Lewis that would make other people uncomfortable without there being any problems at all.

"It was very charged." You agree, looking back at him as he leans back, his elbows holding him up.

"Just charged? I gave you my all, Girl." He flicks your head.

"Don't hit me, I'm with child." You joke, and he lets out a genuine laugh, his head falling back. "If I'm being honest, it was the best sex I've ever had, too."

He smirked at you, shrugging his shoulders like it's no big deal. "Yeah, get told that a lot, so."

You snatch the pillow from his lap launching it at his face as you laugh with him, "I bet. I always thought if we were to have kids they'd be best friends like us, now we're having a kid together."

Lewis always hoped that he had kids with you, so in a way this was a dream come true, he was one step closer to having you in every way he wanted. He had an inkling now that the possibility of the two of you being together was becoming more realistic than it'd ever been.

You were agreeing to bring a life into this world with him, and he knows he's said it a million times, but this time he was absolutely sure, there was nothing and he means nothing that could ever make his love for you fade. He'd never stop loving you, if anything this announcement has made his desires increase tenfold.

And he could only hope it'd possibly open your eyes to your own, there was no way a person could speak to another like that if it wasn't real. There was no way you could be so open to bringing a child into this world with him if you didn't treasure him too.

Case in point, Lewis was done waiting on the sidelines.

I luv luv luv y'all.

so here's part two!

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

#black reader #L #lewis hamilton #formula 1 #formula one #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #lewis ham #lewis hamilton imagine

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bby-deerling · 6 months

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congrats on 250 followers 🎉 for the event may i please request ‘give in to me’ with sanji? 💛

thank you so much (both to you and the other anon who had the same request)!!!!

sanji + give into me (nsfw, afab!reader)

18+, mdni, nsfw, wc: 832 masterlist

cw: cunnilingus, sanji being himself, implied piv at the end

Sanji knows he is playing with fire when he uses you helping him clean up the kitchen as an excuse to make advances on you. He has trouble keeping his eyes off you in the first place, but it is even more difficult for him to keep his hands to himself. A brush against your arm here, a soft grip on your waist to gently nudge you away from the cabinet he was trying to reach there, he was becoming increasingly greedy with what he felt he could get away with before you snapped and told him to quit being handsy.

He was no stranger to your own teasing touches as well, but despite his yearning, he knew that’s all it was to you—a game, one that he desperately wishes he had a chance at winning, and one that he wouldn’t dare back out of despite his losing odds. Letting out a puff of smoke, he leans back against the kitchen table, admiring the curve of your hips and plans his next move; it might be far too much, and might push you over the edge and make you close off to him entirely, but something about the way you looked tonight made him helpless to his urges.

A stack of dried plates sits in front of you, waiting to be put away in the kitchen cabinet. Before you can step up onto your toes to slide them into place, the scent of tobacco fills your lungs, as his arms cage you in place, your back flush against his chest.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of that for you.” he says, lips dangerously close to your ear as he picked up the plates and put them away, pressing himself into you as he leaned towards the cabinet.

You flinch as he does it, and he prepares for a smack on the head and a lecture, but it never comes—his brain nearly short-circuits when he feels you lean closer into his touch instead of pushing him away. After taking a moment to collect himself and wipe the blood off his nose, he dares to let his hands roam, settling on your hips as he pushes you further into the counter.

“Need anything else while I’m here, darling?” he asks, playfully blowing smoke against your cheek.

“Seems like you’re the one who’s needy.” you reply, trying and failing to maintain an air of indifference as he rolls his hips into yours.

“How could I not be when you’ve been teasing me all night, dear?” he asks, dragging his fingers up your side, getting predictably sidetracked when he reaches the outline of your breasts, before finally working his way up to gently gripping your jaw.

“If you want me to give it to you, darling, all you have to do is ask.” he murmurs, as the hand still on your hips gets dangerously close to your core, tracing circles on the clothed skin of your inner thigh. It’s enough to make you swallow your pride.

“You’ve finally got me, Sanji. I want you.”

“Glad we can both be honest with each other, sweetheart.”

He promised himself he would be a gentleman with you; he’d planned on unraveling you slowly, with passionate kisses and languid touches, but now that he finally has you where he wants you, he can’t help but flip you around and fall to his knees, making quick work of pulling down your shorts.

You expect him to say something, but he simply pulls your hips into his face and drags his tongue across your slit, eager to taste you and moaning in the process. Once his mouth settles on your clit, you can’t help but squirm as his tongue dances across it, but his grip on your hips holds you still against the countertop. Raking your fingers through his hair, you brush his bangs out of his face; his pupils are blown with lust and darkening his sky blue eyes as he laps at you like a man deprived of water for days. The moans he lets out as he devours you send heat straight to your core, overwhelming you as he increases the pressure of his tongue on your bud.

“I’m gonna come, Sanji…” you whimper, rolling your hips into his mouth as much as you could given his grip on your hips, seeing stars when he flicks his tongue in just the right way to send you over the edge.

Catching your breath, you shudder when he stands up and runs two of his fingers along your slit, picking up as much as your essence as he can. He sucks on his fingers, letting out a lewd pop when he removes them that makes your face burn.

“You’re delicious, dear. Hope you’re ready for the main course.” he says, flipping you around and bending you over the counter.

He planned to make up for all the lost time you had spent teasing each other, and then some.

#one piece x reader #x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #one piece smut #mdni #sanji has l rizz but id probably fold anyways

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ramen-flavored · 2 months

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Happy 10th Anniversary To The Superior MCU Movie

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midastouch013 · 1 month

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Her Caregiver

TO THE ANON: I'm so sorry, I lost your request, but I hope this meets what you had requested

Summary: Natasha Romanoff has always managed to keep her little secret a secret, but what happens when she gets jealous of how you care for Wanda?

Warnings: Little/Caregiver, Jealousy, Little Nat, Little Wanda

P.S. Sorry for being so late, there was this retreat and there wasn't any reception there. Plus, I'm not sure if this is exactly how Caregiver and Little fics work, but I hope you like it.

---

Natasha Romanoff sat in her room, her gaze drifting towards the stuffed animals arranged neatly on her bed. She had always been drawn to the softness and comfort they provided, a stark contrast to the harsh reality of her life as an Avenger. But there was something deeper behind her fascination with these childish trinkets, something she had never fully acknowledged until now.

She glanced at the door, her heart racing with uncertainty. She had been harboring a secret, one she hadn't dared to share with anyone, not even her closest friends. Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, was a little.

The thought both terrified and excited her. Terrified because she feared judgment and rejection from her peers. Excited because she longed for the care and comfort she had never allowed herself to experience. But most of all, she longed for someone to understand her, to see past the tough exterior she presented to the world.

That someone, she realized, was you.

You, her teammate, her friend, the one person she trusted above all others. She knew you had a kind heart and a gentle touch, qualities she desperately craved in a caregiver. But how could she ever admit such vulnerability to you? How could she risk tarnishing the image of the fearless Avenger you admired?

Natasha sighed, her fingers tracing the edges of a plush bear. She wished she could be brave enough to ask for what she needed, to shed the weight of her secrets and be truly seen. But fear held her back, fear of rejection, fear of ridicule, fear of being deemed unworthy of love.

And so, she buried her desires deep within her heart, locking them away behind walls of steel. But even the strongest barriers couldn't contain the longing in her soul, the ache for connection that refused to be silenced.

And so, a series of events were to set that day, one that would make her have you, as her caregiver, maybe even something more.

In the quiet of the Avengers compound, a sudden disruption shattered the tranquility. Wanda Maximoff stumbled into the common area, her usually composed demeanor replaced by one of vulnerability. Sensing something amiss, you approached her, concern etched across your features.

"Hey, Wanda, what's wrong?" you asked gently, kneeling beside her as she curled up on the couch.

Wanda looked up at you with wide, tear-filled eyes. "I-I don't know," she whimpered softly.

"It's okay, sweetheart. You're safe here," you assured her, offering a comforting smile. "Do you want a blanket?"

She nodded, sniffling, and you quickly fetched a blanket, wrapping it around her trembling form. Wanda leaned into your embrace, finding solace in the warmth you provided.

Meanwhile, Natasha observed from a distance, a pang of envy stirring within her. She watched as you comforted Wanda, offering the kind of care and tenderness that the redhead secretly longed for herself.

As Wanda began to relax under your gentle ministrations, Natasha couldn't help but approach, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Is she okay?" Natasha inquired softly, her eyes flickering between you and Wanda.

"Yeah, she just slipped into her little space," you explained, shooting Natasha a reassuring smile. "She'll be alright, though."

Natasha nodded, but the jealousy still gnawed at her, a silent reminder of her own unspoken desires.

Feeling a sudden urge to help, Natasha joined you and Wanda, offering her assistance.

"Can I help?" Natasha asked, her voice gentle.

"Of course, Nat. Can you grab her favorite stuffed animal from her room?" you suggested.

Natasha nodded and disappeared momentarily, returning with Wanda's beloved toy. She handed it to Wanda with a soft smile, and Wanda's face lit up at the sight of it.

With Natasha's help, you continued to comfort Wanda, ensuring she felt safe and loved in her vulnerable state.

Later, when you and Natasha found yourselves alone, Natasha couldn't resist commenting on your compassion.

"Hey, I just wanted to say… you're really good with her," Natasha admitted, a hint of admiration in her voice.

"Thanks, Nat. I just want to make sure she feels safe and loved," you replied sincerely.

Natasha nodded, but there was a sadness in her eyes that you couldn't quite place.

"Are you okay?" you asked, sensing her unease.

Natasha forced a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired, I guess."

You accepted her answer, but couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Natasha's emotions than she let on.

As the evening wore on, Natasha's jealousy and insecurity continued to fester, gnawing at her from the inside out. Feeling overwhelmed, she excused herself from the common area and retreated to the solitude of her room.

Alone in the dimly lit space, Natasha paced back and forth, her mind swirling with conflicting emotions. She knew she shouldn't let herself succumb to her little space, that she needed to remain strong and in control. But the more she fought against it, the more the longing tugged at her heartstrings.

"I can't let this happen," she muttered to herself, clenching her fists in frustration. "I have to stay in control."

But the more she fought against it, the stronger the pull became, until Natasha found herself sinking onto her bed, her resolve crumbling like sand between her fingers. Tears pricked at her eyes as she surrendered to the overwhelming tide of emotion.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to no one in particular, feeling the weight of her own inadequacy bear down upon her.

Meanwhile, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of your stomach. Natasha's sudden disappearance hadn't gone unnoticed, and you knew that she was struggling with something deeper than she let on.

Determined to offer her support, you made your way to her room, the hallway stretching out before you like an endless expanse of uncertainty. With each step, your concern grew, mingling with a sense of urgency that propelled you forward.

Standing before Natasha's closed door, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what lay ahead. You raised your hand and knocked softly, the sound echoing in the silence of the hallway.

"Natasha?" you called out tentatively, your voice barely above a whisper. "Are you in there?"

Inside the room, Natasha's heart skipped a beat at the sound of your voice. She hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. But deep down, she knew that she couldn't keep her struggles hidden forever.

"Come in" she said softly, so soft that you almost missed it.

As you stepped into Natasha's room, your eyes fell upon her huddled form on the bed, her posture small and vulnerable. For a moment, you were taken aback, the sight of Natasha in her little state catching you completely off guard.

"Natasha?" you murmured softly, your voice laced with genuine surprise. "I… I didn't realize…"

But before you could finish your sentence, you noticed the way Natasha's shoulders tensed, her expression shifting from vulnerability to embarrassment. It was as if she had been caught in a moment of weakness, a side of herself she had never intended for anyone to see.

Feeling a pang of guilt for intruding upon her private moment, you quickly reassured her, "It's okay, Natasha. You don't have to explain anything to me."

But Natasha recoiled slightly, her gaze averted as she wrapped her arms around herself protectively. She felt exposed, as if the carefully constructed walls she had built around herself had crumbled to dust, leaving her vulnerable and exposed.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean for you to see me like this."

You approached her slowly, your movements gentle and deliberate as you reached out a hand to offer her comfort. "It's okay, Natasha," you repeated softly. "You don't have to apologize for being yourself."

But Natasha couldn't shake the feeling of shame that gnawed at her from within. She had spent so long hiding this part of herself from the world, afraid of being judged or rejected. And now, with you standing before her, seeing her at her most vulnerable, she couldn't help but feel a sense of overwhelming inadequacy.

As you sat beside Natasha on the bed, a sense of determination washed over you. You refused to let Natasha grapple with her inner turmoil alone, especially now that you knew about this vulnerable side of her.

With gentle determination, you wrapped your arms around Natasha, pulling her into a comforting embrace. She tensed at first, still feeling the weight of embarrassment and shame, but gradually, she began to relax into your touch, allowing herself to be held.

"I'm here for you, Natasha," you whispered softly, your voice a soothing balm to her wounded soul. "You don't have to face this alone."

Natasha's breath hitched as tears welled up in her eyes, the floodgates of emotion threatening to overwhelm her. But you held her steady, offering her the strength and support she so desperately needed.

With a trembling hand, you brushed away her tears, your touch gentle and reassuring. "Let me take care of you," you murmured, your words a promise of unwavering love and support.

As Natasha nestled into your comforting embrace, her vulnerability laid bare before you, you knew that she needed more than just words of reassurance. With tender care, you gently brushed her hair away from her tear-stained cheeks, your touch eliciting a soft sigh from her trembling lips.

"Shh, it's okay, Natasha," you whispered soothingly, your voice a gentle melody in the quiet of her room. "You're safe here with me."

Natasha's breath hitched as she struggled to contain her emotions, but with your steady presence by her side, she began to relax into your embrace, allowing herself to be held.

In a moment of instinctive tenderness, you brought your thumb to your lips, offering it to Natasha. At first, she hesitated, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment, but you urged her gently, encouraging her to trust you.

"Here, Natasha," you murmured softly, your voice laced with warmth and affection. "It's okay to seek comfort in whatever way you need."

With a shaky breath, Natasha tentatively took your thumb into her mouth, her lips wrapping around it instinctively as she sought solace in the simple act of sucking. A sense of calm washed over her as she melted into your embrace, the rhythmic motion soothing her frayed nerves.

You smiled tenderly at her, your heart swelling with love and admiration for this strong and resilient woman who had entrusted you with her vulnerability. With each gentle stroke of your thumb against her lips, you offered her the comfort and care she so desperately needed, reaffirming your unwavering support for her.

And as Natasha nestled closer to you, her breathing slow and steady, you knew that in that moment, you had helped her find peace amidst the chaos of her inner turmoil. Together, you shared a bond that transcended words, a silent understanding forged in the crucible of vulnerability and acceptance.

With a contented sigh, Natasha closed her eyes, her grip on your thumb loosening as she drifted into a peaceful slumber. And as you held her close, you vowed to always be there for her, to offer her comfort and care whenever she needed it, for as long as she would have you by her side.

-----

As Natasha stirred from her peaceful slumber, she blinked groggily, the remnants of sleep still clinging to her mind. Her heart skipped a beat as she realized she was no longer nestled in your comforting embrace, a sense of panic threatening to overtake her.

Frantically, she scanned the room, her eyes darting around in search of your familiar presence. But to her dismay, you were nowhere to be found, leaving her feeling abandoned and alone once more.

A wave of sadness washed over Natasha as she struggled to contain her rising emotions. Just when she thought she had found solace in your care, you had disappeared without a trace, leaving her feeling more vulnerable than ever before.

With a heavy sigh, Natasha felt herself slipping back into her little space, her defenses crumbling as she sought refuge from the overwhelming sense of abandonment. She curled up on the bed, her thumb finding its way to her lips once more as she sought comfort in the familiar ritual.

But just as Natasha was on the brink of succumbing to her inner turmoil, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway, drawing her attention away from her troubled thoughts. Hope blossomed in her chest as she heard the familiar sound of your voice, dispelling the darkness that threatened to consume her.

And then, to her immense relief, you appeared in the doorway, a warm smile gracing your lips as you greeted her with a tender gaze.

"Hey, Natasha," you said softly, your voice filled with warmth and affection. "I'm sorry I was gone for a moment. I just needed to use the washroom."

As Natasha took in your reassuring presence, a sense of calm washed over her, dispelling the last traces of her anxiety. She felt a surge of gratitude for your unwavering support, knowing that no matter how lost she felt, you would always be there to guide her through the darkness.

With a contented sigh, Natasha reached out to you, her small hand seeking yours in a silent gesture of gratitude and affection. And as you took her hand in yours, a sense of peace settled over her, knowing that with you by her side, she could weather any storm that came her way. As you sat beside Natasha, her hand in yours, a question lingered at the forefront of your mind. With a gentle squeeze of her hand, you summoned the courage to voice your curiosity.

"Natasha," you began softly, "do you know why you went into your little space earlier?"

Natasha's breath caught in her throat at your question, her heart racing with uncertainty. She had never intended for you to find out about this vulnerable side of her, and now that you were asking her about it, she felt a wave of apprehension wash over her.

"I... I don't know," she murmured hesitantly, her gaze flickering away from yours. "I guess... I guess I just felt overwhelmed."

You studied her carefully, sensing that there was more to her answer than she was letting on. "Is there something else, Natasha?" you pressed gently, your voice filled with concern.

Natasha hesitated for a moment, her mind racing as she grappled with her inner turmoil. But then, with a shaky breath, she found the courage to speak her truth.

"I... I've always wanted to hide my little space from everyone," she admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't want anyone to know about this vulnerable side of me, especially not you."

The confession hung heavy in the air between you, a silent acknowledgment of Natasha's deepest fears and insecurities. And in that moment, you realized just how much she had been struggling, how much she had been hiding from you all this time.

"I'm sorry, Natasha," you murmured softly, your heart aching for her pain. "I had no idea."

But to your surprise, Natasha offered you a small smile, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. "You couldn't have known."

A silence passed between you, and you could sense that she was debating on whether to tell you, so you stayed quiet, and waited.

As Natasha gathered her courage to share her feelings, she took a deep breath, her eyes meeting yours with a mixture of vulnerability and determination.

"I… I need to tell you something," she began softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

You listened intently, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited for Natasha to speak.

"I was… I was jealous of Wanda," Natasha admitted, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "When I saw you with her, offering her comfort… I couldn't help but feel envious."

Her confession took you by surprise, a pang of guilt tugging at your heart as you realized the impact your actions had unknowingly had on Natasha.

"I'm sorry, Natasha," you murmured softly, reaching out to take her hand in yours. "I didn't mean to make you feel that way."

But Natasha shook her head, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "It's not your fault," she reassured you gently. "I know you were just trying to help."

You studied her carefully, a sense of admiration swelling within you at her honesty and vulnerability. Despite her struggles, Natasha had found the courage to open up to you, to share her deepest fears and insecurities.

"Natasha," you began tentatively, your voice filled with sincerity, "I want you to know that I'm not Wanda's actual caregiver. I was just there to offer her comfort when she needed it."

To your relief, Natasha's smile widened, her eyes sparkling with understanding. "I know," she replied softly. "And I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions."

With a sense of relief washing over you, you reached out to squeeze Natasha's hand in yours, a silent gesture of solidarity and support.

"Natasha," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper, "would you let me be your caregiver? Not just as a friend, but as something more?"

For a moment, Natasha's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening in surprise at your heartfelt request. But then, to your immense relief, she nodded, a radiant smile spreading across her face.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice filled with warmth and affection. "Yes, I would like that very much."

#avengers #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha x you #wanda maximoff #anon ask #anonymous #little space #caregiver #regression #little #cg/l #cg/l little

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iicloudyiiddyy · 8 months

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𝐽𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛.

They walk in, slamming the door as they step in. Silent as they gaze around your home, the dark lights, unwashed dishes, and the faint light coming from the crack under your door. They head towards it , devilish intent and dark lust in their eyes, feelings running rampant inside them, eager to dominate . To control. Blowing off steam during their work can only do so much compared to you. Craving you, and the power-play they have in closed doors with you.

You give them power, a way out. That’s just what he needs. Your screams of pleasure and you cumming on his cock as he stuffs more into you. Forcing you to take more. You would let him have whatever he wanted, and now more than ever he needs the sense of balance.

They enter your room , your candle still burning, as they look around spotting you on the bed, laying down, breathing softly as your none the wiser to the man across from you, their dark eyes tracing your face, you neck, down to your thighs what’s in between them what they came for.

Walking forward tutting on how careless you are, they blew out the candle, the soft orange light scaring away the darkness fleeing as they stand in pitch black, their eyes reflecting the moonlight as they look down at you, imaging all the things they could do to you, all the things they will do. they smile as they lay down , the soft mattress buckling under the weight of their knees as the scent of you wraps around their nose , only further egging them on as they slide under the covers, full body covered by your sheets as they grab your plush thighs, spreading them as they salivate they start off slow, kissing and moving down your thighs as they sigh out of their nose in relief. They peel of your underwear, their slow pace speeding up as the sight of your pussy comes in sight, they lick and prod, your juices running down , you shuffle, groaning as you make the unconscious effort to close your legs. Futile as they are gripped in his hands never once bothering to look up at you as he opens his mouth to slide between your folds, attacking your clit as they suck ,your body betraying you as it shakes from the familiar touch of your lover. Eager to please, they slip a finger inside , curling and prodding the silky walls inside as they shove their face further in , adding a finger pressing down on the spot that makes you squeal.

You whimper in your sleep , unable to escape as they continue your assault , your orgasm steadily on the way. They pick up their speed their tongue never getting enough, never being satisfied as the taste of you gushes out. He loves this, while it would be better if you were awake , your fingers grabbing his hair as you scream out his name this will have to do. Despite you still in dreamland your core tightens as his two fingers scissor, his tongue sliding against them, breaching inside ,you pant, on the verge of waking up your arms scramble as your legs shake, they only grip tighter as the only thing you can do is lay there and take it. You aren’t done till they say, till they ripped so many orgasms, made you cum so many times with just their fingers and their sinful tongue that you bawl for them to stop, and only then will they ease off, however they switch it out with their cock, hard and dripping as they slide into you, fucking you harshly as they groan, your cunt squeezing him as she demands that you give him more, make him feel more ,that you can take more as you sob.

You cum, back arching as you finally awake , shouting and moaning as they pull you through your pleasure, they don’t stop, don’t even blink as your hands scramble for purchase on their head, needing something to ground you. They pull you deeper into them, shoving their face as they lose themselves in your body, your juices leaking down their chin, soiling the sheets. You heave squirming as they add another finger, you babble out their name, confusion blooming in you as struggle. sleep wearing off as you strain you neck to look in between, to catch the culprit. You spot them, your thigh in their hand as they push it to your chest , their body trapping your other limb as their fingers impale inside you, they hum as they twist their tongue inside, fingers expertly bending to hit that spot as a lewd moan erupts from your throat.Your head hitting the pillow as you grind your cunt further on their face. Breath hitching as you choke another orgasm hitting you like a train as you squirt over their tongue they hum once more, lapping harshly as they murmur how wet you are, how you’re being so good for a slut that can’t say their name right, they chuckle vibrations rumbling though you as they find their degradation towards you amusing as you whine.

Their nails dig in your thigh, dark crescent marks blooming as they circle the ball of nerves. You babble as over stimulation burns in your stomach. You beg, plead for them to slow down , despite knowing how fruitless the effort is. They smirk, sadistic glee to your cries as they add another finger, it stings so good. You moan their name as they speed up, set on making you cum once more, over and over again. To paint their tongue white, to hear your screams of pleasure, and they do just that just because they can.

Eren,Levi (AOT) Feitan , Illumi , Pariston (HXH) Madara , Sasuke , Kakashi (NARUTO) Sebastian (BLACK BUTLER) Light, L , (DEATH NOTE) Muzan , Obanai , Inosuke (DEMON SLAYER) Hawks , Dabi , Bakugou , (MHA)

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thetempleofthemasaigoddess · 4 months

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Gentleman caller

Sanji x reader. NSFW!!

This fic was inspired by Usopp visiting Kaya at her mansion at night. One Piece of course is not that sort of story, but... what if things were allowed to get a little more spicy?

TAGGING @holymusicalmothman @b7717 @mcereal @aamon47 Thanks for asking!!

*****

"Are you sure you don't want a glass of warm milk before you go to bed, miss?"

"I am sure, Kyla." you answer politely. The truth is you haven't drunk a glass of milk to help you fall asleep since you were ten (that is, almost half your life) but your governess keeps asking, every single night, and every single night you answer no; still, you know she does it out of worry and affection for you, which you sincerely appreciate "I think I'll go now; will you tell my father good-night for me, when he returns?"

Kyla promises she will, and returns to the kitchen to clean up after dinner, while you walk out of the villa's large dining room, cross a long corridor and climb the stairs to the upper floor, finally reaching your bedroom.

Except for Kyla in the kitchen you are alone, since the cook and the gardener, who do not reside in the villa, already left, and your father is as usual busy with a business dinner. You don't feel lonely exactly, since that state of affairs has been going on since your mother died when you were still too young to remember her, but it does feel a little weird to live in such a large place, no less than twelve bedrooms on the first floor alone and at least six other rooms that have been closed for years since you literally don't know how to occupy them, when it's only the two of you... a waste of space, even though you and your father often host parties and receive many guests.

And the most important of those visitors by far is going to arrive soon, a person your father has no idea has already visited so many times before...

You take off your shoes, and spend a few minutes in the en-suite bathroom refreshing yourself before closing the bedroom's door behind you. You sigh, happy and excited, as you let yourself fall on the bed, observing the room you have slept in since you were maybe six and that you will soon leave: the desk cluttered with paper models, scarps of fabric and sewing tools; the two mannequins wearing your latest creations, a green cocktail dress and a simpler but elegant light blue men's shirt; the bookstore full of sewing manuals, fashion catalogs and the biographies of your favourite designers; the large poster on a wall, depicting a famous, elegantly dressed model... and the glass door that, only a few minutes after you have retired to your room, starts being hit by tiny pebbles, picked from the garden below.

Your guest is here. You happily stand from the bed, glance quickly to the full length mirror on the wall to make sure your hair is combed and in order, and reach the glass door to quickly step onto the balcony.

Standing in the garden under you like a suitor ready to serenade you, more handsome than a fairy-tale hero and beaming as if about to see all his dreams come true, is him. The former assistant cook of your family, your best friend in the world, your...

"Sanji!" you call out to him, voice barely rising above a whisper as you wave your hand at him, a greeting he returns in kind, clearly happy to see you, hidden among the trunks of the centuries-old trees; the night is particularly dark, heavy clouds covering the crescent moon and most of the stars, but his smile is brighter than any other source of light.

"Are you alone?" Sanji asks urgently as he glances all around him; no one has reason to visit the garden at this hour and the balcony is oriented towards the back of the villa, far from the main entrance through which your father would come in, but you both know how imperative it is to keep your rendez-vous secrets.

"I am; my dad hasn't returned yet and Kyla is in the kitchen. You can come up."

When you decided you would meet in secret at night, five years ago, you had offered to find a rope for him to climb, but Sanji never needed it. Tonight, as usual, you look on as he nimbly climbs the tree closest to the villa's wall, clinging to the huge trunk and then to the largest branches until he's jumping above the balcony and directly in your arms.

You embrace each other, your profiles standing out against the light filtering from the room, and for a full minute neither feels the need to talk. Sanji's arms hold you close by the waist, his lips pressed against your temple in a chaste kiss; you lose yourself in his scent, the costly perfume you bought for him because you knew he liked but couldn't afford it and and that never fails to make you shiver, as you enjoy the sensation of his slim but strong body pressed against yours.

"Do you have it?" you ask after a while, pulling away just enough to look at him in the eyes; you thought about nothing else for days, more nervous than if it had been your own future career at stake "The answer from the school. Did you receive it?"

"I have."

"... and?!"

Sanji, as usual neatly dressed in one of the dark suits he wears at work, smiles at you, his fingers brushing against your face; a small backpack hangs from his shoulder. "Can we go inside before we talk?" he proposes "I have something for you as well."

Knowing he brought you a treat from the restaurant he works at makes you happy, but nothing beats the simple, pure pleasure of his company. Wordlessly you take his hand to lead him inside, leaving the now empty balcony behind.

*****

Your friendship with Sanji began exactly one decade ago; you were the only daughter of a powerful politician, living alone with him at the villa and whose pathological shyness had left her virtually friendless, him a newly orphaned boy your father had decided to hire as assistant to the cook, so that he could support himself. One afternoon, you visited the kitchen to ask for a snack, since you were starving and dinner was still hours away; the cook told you that he was sorry but your father, already then worried for your weight, had strictly forbidden him from feeding you between meals. You noticed Sanji, busy scrubbing a large pot in the sink, but he seemed so focused on his job you decided not to disturb him to introduce yourself.

You left, disappointed but unwilling to insist, out of respect for both your father and the cook who was just following orders, but a few minutes later, as you studied in the library, he joined you, a nervous smile on his face and a salami sandwich in his hands.

"Please don't tell anyone, especially not your dad." he told you as he put it in your hands "I hope you liked it, I put some mayonnaise on it because I saw the cook used it to prepare your school lunch yesterday."

You did (and still do) like mayonnaise on your sandwiches, and in that moment you were doubly astonished: that he heard your request for a snack even though he had looked so engrossed in the cookware to wash, and that he had decided to risk your father's wrath to help you, less than a week after being hired.

"Thank you, I... thank you so much! That was very kind of you." you told him, for once forgetting your shyness "My name is (name). What's yours?"

"I'm Sanji. And don't worry; I'm sure your dad means well, but no one should starve, especially not at our age. Don't tell anyone, ok? I know he forbade the cook from feeding you snacks, and i'm not supposed to visit the family's wing of the villa without a valid reason."

You obviously kept his secret, and from that day on, you and Sanji quickly became inseparable, spending together all your free time from school and work; he secretly fed you every time your father's concern about your weight made the cook limit your meals, and you used your allowance to buy him cooking books he studied to pursue his dream of becoming a famous chef. Apart from your father, you had never loved anyone like him; Sanji was the other half of your soul, an acerbic but steadfast feeling that made you sure you would never feel alone, as long as he were by your side, and you would not have left him for all the treasures, and the good food, in the world.

Your father, who was happy you had finally made a friend and didn't mind you had chosen the kitchen boy and not one of your school mates, who belonged to the city's most affluent and prominent families, never had anything against it... at least until you were both fourteen, when he suddenly decided it was inappropriate for the two of you to spend so much time together; as a sign of peace, he found Sanji a more prestigious job in a famous restaurant at the other side of the city. That, in your father's opinion, would have meant the end of your friendship, but it obviously didn't: and after all, with all the sandwiches and portions of dessert he had snuck you, hadn't your friendship been based on secrecy since the very beginning?

For five years Sanji has spent with you almost every evening he is free from the restaurant; he climbs the trees next to your balcony and you let him in, and sometimes you spend the whole night talking, or leave together to visit a bar or go dancing. Is it dangerous, should your father discover what you are up to? Undoubtedly so, especially since you know he only worries about you, whether it is about the food you eat or the places you visit in a large and dangerous city; but you are an adult, more than old enough to decide how to live your life, and Sanji is always ready to protect you when someone bothers you in a club, and he would never feed you something that could seriously endanger your health. You don't know why exactly your father has suddenly decided you mustn't be friends with him anymore, but you are determined not to lose him, especially now that your relationship has started evolving beyond mere friendship... and your own dreams risk separating you forever.

*****

"So? What did the school say?" you insist as Sanji closes the glass door behind the two of you; your heart is pounding, wishing with every fiber of your being you could change the decision the commission must have taken days ago "Did you get in?"

For years Sanji has dreamed of attending the most prestigious cooking school in the country, the Baratie Culinary Arts Academy in the capital; this year he has finally reached the required age to enroll, but the entrance examination, that your friend has taken two weeks ago, is notoriously difficult, especially for who, like Sanji, also has to apply for a scholarship. Your friend was meant to receive the results of his exam today, and you had decided you would also share your own secret with him... and then, hopefully, you would both have something to celebrate.

"I'll tell you in a minute."

"Sanji, please... I haven't thought about anything else all day!" you complain, fearing your friend's reticence is due to shame for his failure; Sanji, busy emptying his backpack on your desk, smiles, before rubbing the back of his head.

"The truth is... I haven't opened the letter yet." he admits "I hoped we could do it together... mainly because I don't have the courage to do it by myself."

There is nothing wrong with wanting a friend close when one is both scared and excited for something, but in that moment your heart breaks for Sanji: he has lost his parents, had to take care of himself since he was still a child, and while he has a good job and could try again next year, being refused admission to the Baratie would break his heart.

You wait patiently as Sanji quickly sets the table for the two of you: cutlery, napkins, glasses, a bottle of water and his latest effort in the kitchen: two portions of a delicious chocolate cake, bigger than what your father would allow you to eat but still relatively small, since your friend does care about your health.

"This looks delicious, Sanji!" you exclaim, as always happy to taste your friend's latest creations "But wait..."

You walk to the small fridge next to the door, almost hidden under a pile of scraps of fabric left over from your latest creation and that you will find a use for one day, and retrieve a small but expensive bottle of champagne that you have bought in the afternoon.

"I thought we could use it to celebrate; I have also taken two flutes from the kitchen." you explain.

"I still don't know if I got in, (name)."

"I'm sure you did. And if the chefs at the Baratie can't see, and taste, how extraordinarily talented you are, it's their loss." you point out "You wanna open it?"

A minute later you are sitting face to face at your desk, cake and champagne ready to be enjoyed, the white envelope Sanji took from his backpack in your hands.

"Shall I?" you ask softly; your friend, who has never looked so pale and so young, nods.

"Please."

You both hold your breath as you open the envelope and then unfold the single sheet of paper inside. You make sure Sanji cannot see your face as you read...

"So? What... what does it say?"

"Sanji, I'm so sorry..."

"Oh, God..." your friend, heartbroken, stares at you for a moment before slumping on his chair, face hidden in his hands "I can't believe it... I was so sure..."

"I'm sorry because you have some very difficult years ahead..."

"... what?"

"Of course. Nights spent studying, sharing a room with six other people, waking up extra-early to go to class... Really, I don't envy you..."

Finally you look at him, beaming, while Sanji's eyes grow bigger as he slowly catches the meaning of your words.

"You mean...?"

"You got in! And you got the scholarship as well. Oh, Sanji, I'm so proud of you! I knew you could do it!"

You stand and embrace, laughing with shared delight. "I can't believe it." Sanji murmurs, still as he looks at the admission letter, signed by Zeff, a famous chef who is the Baratie's headmaster "There were so many people at the exam, and at one point I was so nervous I spilled a bowl of vinaigrette on my apron..."

"As I said, an important school like the Baratie, with so many experienced chefs, couldn't not recognize your talent." you point out, happier than you remember ever being "Classes start in a month, you'll have to give your notice at the restaurant."

"Yeah..."

Sanji takes your hands in his, kissing them devotedly. "I could have never done it without you." he murmurs, with the sort of gaze and inflection that, years after your first kiss, still makes you shiver "All the books you have bought me... and it was you who convinced me to apply. I owe you so much, (name)."

"You would have done the same for me; and we both know the two of us are beyond this sort of talk. I am so happy for you, truly; I know you will become a great chef."

Sanji smiles, circling your waist with his arm as he uses his free hand to pick one of the flutes from the desk. "Shall we celebrate, then?"

"Actually..."

"Actually?"

"Actually, I also have something to tell you." you admit, a new, excited smile opening on your face "You know that important fashion school in the capital, the one many of my favourite designers attended?"

Fashion has always been your greatest passion; you have designed clothes since you were a child, and thanks to a family friend who owns a large tailor shop you have learnt the basics of the trade, how to cut fabric, sew and tailor an item of clothing. Your father, who approves of your interests, has offered to introduce you to some fashion designers his friends or associates are acquainted to, but you are determined to accept no recommendations and take no shortcuts; just like Sanji, and any person who has to work hard to realize their dreams, you will pursue your education, earn an apprenticeship at a fashion house, and in time, hopefully, open your own and make a name for yourself as a designer. It will take you years and fashion is a famously difficult field to break into, but you are determined to give your all, so that whatever the future may bring you will be free from regret, and live doing what you love.

"Of course; the Nefertari Vivi Fashion Institute." Sanji promptly answers; miss Vivi is one of your idols, a ground-breaking designer who has revolutionized the fashion world and then focused on teaching, establishing one of the best-reputed educational institutions of the field "So what?"

You smile, still excited almost a week after receiving your own letter, that you asked your father to open for you.

Sanji gapes. "You are kidding."

"I am not!"

Your friend laughs. "And you didn't tell me anything!" he exclaims, and you apologize, telling him you didn't want to disappoint both of them in the not unlikely event you were not admitted.

"But you were?"

You still can't believe it yourself. "I was! There was no exam; I only had to send miss Vivi some of my creations, and a few days ago I received the acceptance letter."

"(name), that's amazing!"

"I know! I can't wait to begin. I also apply for a scholarship, but unfortunately I didn't get it."

Sanji asks whether you plan on asking your father to pay for your classes, but you shake your head: you need to learn to take care of yourself, living alone once you'll move to the capital and earning money to support yourself. To this end, you have contacted a friend who lives in the capital and owns a bookstore: she has accepted to hire you, and you have sold your jewels to pay your tuition fees.

"(name), you didn't!" Sanji exclaims, flabbergasted "Those were your mom's things..."

"I know." you sigh, still feeling saddened and a bit guilty even though you know you did the right thing "But this is my future we are talking about, the opportunity to build a career, and a life for myself, without my father taking care of me or using my family's money to buy whatever I need or want. I want to earn my keep, Sanji; I want to prove I can take care of myself, and that I am more than a spoiled little girl."

Sanji softly points out that no one who knows you could ever think that; he smiles, his handsome face expressing a joy too great and deep for words, as he takes you in his arms once more. "So we are both moving to the capital to study." he mentions "And pursue our dreams. Which means we'll both be very busy..."

"... but we won't have to hide our relationship anymore." you happily finish for him, having already reflected on the matter; you plan on living in a student residence, since their rooms are cheaper than other types of accommodation, and guests are usually not admitted, but at least you will be able to meet in the open, having dates like any other couple instead of having to hide like a married man with his mistress, lest your father learns about your relationship "I can't wait! In a month we'll both be living in the capital, studying with the best in our fields, and nothing will stop us from being together. I... I don't think I've ever been so happy!"

"Me neither." Sanji agrees, one of the flutes in his hand once more "Shall we drink to our future? And then enjoy the cake?"

You agree, but you barely have had the time to clink your glasses together when a sudden noise reaches your ears: an unexpected, but otherwise innocuous noise, at least for who, unlike the two of you, has nothing to hide...

A soft but firm knocking on the door.

Sanji looks at you, suddenly tense; you turn your eyes to the door, wishing to be able to see beyond it. "Yes?"

"(name), it's dad. May I come in?"

The flute almost slips from Sanji's fingers; terrified as if a whole army were standing at the other side of the door, ready to barge in and tear both to pieces, you both nonetheless act quickly, having prepared for such an occurrence since your first nocturnal meeting. Your friend quickly retrieves the flutes and the champagne bottle, while you do the same with the cake plates and the other things placed on your desk; a moment later, Sanji has slipped under your bed, a dusty and uncomfortable hiding spot where nonetheless he'll be safe from your father.

I hope.

"(name)? Is everything all right?"

"Just a moment, dad! I'm coming!" you answer, hoping you sound less nervous, almost terrified, than you feel; you quickly glance all around you, making sure no trace of Sanji's presence is visible, and finally go open the door.

"Hello, dad. How was dinner?" you ask, approaching to kiss him on the cheek; even though he interrupted you and Sanji, you're happy he came to say good-night to you before retiring to his own bedroom.

"Pretty good, even though the lemon cake was not up the restaurant's usual standard. Are you ok?"

"Yes, of course; I was... preparing to go to bed." you answer vaguely, before something in your peripheral vision makes you tense; it is Sanji's backpack, placed where your friend had left it less than half an hour ago: on the bed, perfectly visible.

Shit. SHIT. Shitshitshitshit...

You move a step to the right, so as to prevent your father from noticing the backpack; it is not as compromising as if he had found Sanji's tie, or his shoes, but he could notice the backpack is a men's model, and inside he could find your friend's personal documents, five years after he had forbidden you from having further contact with him. Don't look at it. Don't see it. Please please please...!

Thank God your father, a clever and perceptive man, seems unconcerned with out-of-place objects in your room. "I was thinking tomorrow we could go buy a new suitcase for you; you need a large one, since you'll have to bring most of your things when you'll move to the capital. I hope you'll allow me to pay for that at least."

You smile, grateful for the offer and even more for the intention. "Of course, dad. Thank you."

He smiles, taking your hands in his. "I am so proud of you." he murmurs "I have always known you had a great talent for fashion, but being admitted to such a prestigious school... You'll become the greatest designer of your generation, I'm sure."

"Dad..."

"Please, let me be happy for you. You know I'm always there if you need something, right? I know you have found a job, and you are smart and mature enough to take care of yourself, but if you ever need money, or you want to come home, you can do it; no judgement. Oh, I wish your mom could see you..."

You bite your lip, suddenly unable to talk; a lump of emotion blocks your throat. You are happy, and grateful, that your father supports your desire to move to the capital and attend the Nefertari Institute, especially since he's so protective and you know he wished you would one day follow his footsteps and go into politics, and while you can't wait to start your classes and enjoy life in a big city, the thought of leaving him, and the house where you were born, fills you with sadness... and guilt.

"I... I will never thank you enough for everything you have done for me." you murmur, stepping closer to him to hug your father "And I'm sorry if... if I ever made it hard for you, especially after mom died. I love you very much, dad. I'll be back often to visit, I promise; and I'll miss you so much."

"I'll miss you too, my darling girl." your father answers; he's moved as well, but better than you at hiding it "But I'm so proud you're beginning your life in the world. And I hope you'll let me visit you as well."

"Of course! Every time you can."

"Good. Now, we should both go to sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

He kisses you on the forehead, and soon after he's closing the room's door behind him. You are still staring at it when, a minute later, Sanji joins you, resting his hands on your shoulders.

"Are you all right?" he asks softly; he has known you long enough to perceive what you are feeling, the love for your father and the guilt for the relationship you are carrying out behind his back, the efforts you are making to build a life for yourself away from his protective but constrictive influence and the way you'll miss him terribly and feel guilty for leaving as soon as you could.

"Yeah, just... I was just thinking."

You sigh, turning to face Sanji, desperately trying to return to the carefree joy of five minutes ago, and drive away the melancholia filling your heart. After all, it is normal for children to find their way in life away from their family, and your father is still young, dedicated to his job and career, and has many friends and a new partner he is very close to; he'll be all right, and whatever loneliness and melancholy he will feel, you know he will accept it.

"Your father is a good man." Sanji points out as you both retrieve your drinks and plates from the wardrobe you had hidden them in "He didn't even know me, but he gave me a job when I was alone in the world, and then he found me an even more prestigious one at the restaurant; every berry I ever earned I owe it to him. I'll never forget all the help he gave me."

You smile, happy to hear your friend talk well about your father. "You still have a good opinion of him even if he forbade us from being friends?"

"Well, I shouldn't resent him for that, since we never stopped seeing each other. And he only wanted to protect you, which I can understand."

You blink. "... sorry? What are you talking about?"

"Right, I... I never told you, did I?"

Sanji rubs the back of his neck, suddenly bashful. "You never wondered why your dad was suddenly against us being friends?"

You had. "Well... I thought it was because we weren't children anymore... and you a boy and I a girl..."

"Exactly, but... there was something else. When I was fourteen, I... I wrote you a letter; there was something important I needed to tell you, but I couldn't find the courage to do it in person. I left it on your pillow one day while you were in school, but your father found it... and read it."

You wait for Sanji to elaborate, but he seems focused on staring at the floor, avoiding your gaze. "It was... something inappropriate for a father to read...?"

"Nothing vulgar, if that is what you are wondering; but... it did say I wanted us to be more than friends, and this is what your father opposed, not that I was an orphan without money and prospectives, but because he thought you were too young for that sort of relationship. So... so he asked me to leave things between us as they were, and when I refused, he decided it was better to separate us, and he found me a job at the other side of town, forbidding me from contacting you again, at least until you were of age."

He looks at you, tense since he has no idea how you could react, but the truth is you don't know either. "He sent you away because he didn't want us to date?" you recapitulate in the end, flabbergasted "What would have been so wrong about that? Lots of girls get a boyfriend at fourteen, and he knew you, he knew you would treat me well..."

"Well, he's always been protective of you. Sorry, maybe I should have told you before..."

"It's ok." you reassure him, even though you are not completely sure of it yourself; you understand your father's reasons, and appreciate he didn't simply kick Sanji out in the street, but at the same time you can't believe all of it was to stop your best friend, a boy he knew posed no danger, from confessing his feelings "I... I'm so sorry, Sanji..."

"Well, it wasn't so bad; and as I said, I really don't have a reason to complain, since we did end up becoming more than friends. I felt guilty lying to your dad... but I couldn't give up on you."

He smiles, as he picks one of the flutes up from your desk again. "Now, can we please have a toast to our future?"

You do, happily enjoying your late-night snack; you delicately clink your glasses together before taking a sip, and then feed each other cake, your knees touching under the desk.

Silence has fallen on the room, and on the two of you, as usual when you are with Sanji a comfortable, peaceful silence that you don't feel the need to fill with small talk; you smile at each other, both happy and excited at the future opening in front of you... a future that you will face together as you have always done, finding strength and support in each other.

"Does chef Zeff teaches any class at the Baratie?" you ask after a while; you know the extent of Sanji's admiration for the principal of the cooking school, and it would be amazing for him to learn personally from his idol.

"Not for first-year students; but I heard that he sometimes gives one-on-one classes, if he finds a particularly talented pupil."

"... which means he'll leave all his other classes to tutor you exclusively, as soon as he tastes your True Bluefin sauté... or your salami sandwich."

Sanji smiles; he knows how much faith you have in his cooking abilities, and he never stops being grateful for it. "You're exagerrating."

"I'm not." you very seriously protest, as you clean your dish from any crumble of cake; you know watching your diet means taking care of your health, but you would happily eat three more! "A month and he'll let you skip a year or two, I promise."

"Well, if you are so sure..."

A few minutes later Sanji is putting the dirty plates and cutlery away in his backpack, while you observe the sky out of the glass door, leaning with one shoulder against the wall.

"Once we both live in the capital we won't have to hide anymore, but we'll be so busy with school..." you consider "I'm afraid we won't have a lot of time to spend together."

"Still, it will be an improvement from what we have now. And all the city's school dormitories are in the same campus, which means we can visit each other every time we want."

You nod, still pensive, and a moment later Sanji's arms are circling your waist, his chest pressed against your back.

"It's going to be all right." he murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear in a way that makes you shiver in such a pleasant way "We are going to be all right, I promise, no matter how busy we are."

"Oh, I know; believe me, I'm not doubting my feelings, or yours. We have waited for so long to be able to live our relationship in the open, and I can't wait to be able to see you every day, even for five minutes between classes or to cram together at night. It's just..."

You turn in his embrace, almost apologetic as you smile at him. "I feel so happy, as if all my dreams were coming true: attending a great school, not having to hide what we share. It is almost too good to be true; and I'm almost afraid to wake up and find out it really was just a dream."

Sanji is too kind to make fun of your fears; he considers them as he holds you close, equally aware that no matter how steadfast your feelings for each other are and even though both of you have rightfully earned admission in the schools of your dreams, you are both beginning a new chapter in life, and neither knows what future may have in store for you.

Still, it is pointless to worry about tomorrow, and Sanji decides that more than reassure you, he wants to make you forget your fears, even if just for a minute. "You know what I'm thinking about?" he asks after a minute, his tone pensive "That I've been here for at least thirty minutes, and I haven't kissed, or been kissed by, you, even once."

"Ah, that won't do."

"It really won't. So..."

He grins, happy to see you smile as well, and when he lifts your chin with his fingers you obediently close your eyes and offer him your mouth to kiss.

Almost three years have passed since your first time, in this very room, and kissing Sanji still makes your heart tremble; he is sweet but passionate, not aggressive but intense enough to leave no doubt about his feelings, and his intentions. You enjoy the feeling of his mouth on yours for a moment before kissing him back, Sanji's lips hot against yours; you feel him smile, his hands now holding you by the waist while yours gently caress his hair and neck.

"Gods, you taste so good..."

"It's the cake, Sanji."

"No, it's not. You are delicious, (name); absolutely... mesmerizing..."

You keep kissing for a while, as your hands start moving on each other's body; Sanji whispers your name, suddenly breathless, as your mouth descends towards his neck, at first gently pecking at the delicate skin of his throat, and then sucking hard enough to make him moan.

"(name)..." he murmurs again, and you smile, circling his hips with your arms; you nuzzle at his chest, the soft fabric of his shirt so familiar and comforting against your skin, and wish you could stay like this forever.

You feel Sanji's hands move on your hips and back, his fingers brushing against the hem of your skirt.

"I like this one." he murmurs in your ear; he is aware of the effect he has on you and exploits it mercilessly "Is it new?"

"Made it myself." you answer proudly; you had seen the skirt on a fashion magazine, and rather than buying it you had decided to see whether you could recreate it "Does it look good on me?"

"You look absolutely ravishing, my darling..."

And ravish is exactly what Sanji seems intent on doing; a minute later your back is pressed against the wall, with a very handsome, very amorous young chef intent on making you forget your very name.

Sanji's back and shoulder muscles are taut under your hands as they run all over his body, like a beautiful clay statue molded by your touch; you can feel his heart pounding against your chest, the tenseness in his body as he tries to restrain himself in order not to unsettle you, not to take more than what you would be ready to offer. Dear Sanji, you think fondly as you arch your back to press your chest against his and finally, finally feel his hands grab at your buttocks, don't you know at this point you don't even have to ask?

Sanji's jacket is the first item of clothing to go, falling on the closest chair after you helped him take it off; he returns the courtesy freeing you from the heavy sweater you wear, leaving you with a tight camisole, the different colour of your bra visible under it. He smiles, clearly appreciating the view, but a moment later his expression turns serious, almost reverent, as he gazes at you, almost as if he couldn't believe he's really holding you in his arms.

"I love you so much, you know that?" he murmurs, and no matter how many times he has already uttered those words, you know how deeply he means them, how utterly and hopelessly devoted he is to you and to what you hope to build together. To be the object of such an intense ardor is... humbling, since you're not quite sure you deserve it, and you could even feel guilty for it, if your feelings for Sanji were not equally deep and strong. You don't remember a day in which you didn't love him, ever since he risked your father's ire (and, consequently, the job he had just gotten) to feed you, there has always been a special place for him in your heart, a place no one else could ever occupy; Sanji is the other half of you, someone who you don't need in order to live but who you want to share your life with. Without him you could go on; but you know you'll never feel complete ever again.

And to express everything you feel -all the love, the joy that fills your heart when he's by your side and the hopes you cherish for your future together- you are unable to say more than...

"I love you too, Sanji."

... and that is more than a little frustrating.

You know what you share goes beyond physical attraction, but you can't deny it is flattering, and exciting, to know you can have that sort of effect on Sanji, a man attractive and charming enough he would have no troubles attracting a date; you sometimes think about the girls he meets at work, or the clients he could easily flirt with when he has to cover for a waiter at the restaurant, but you know he is being sincere when he swears you're the only one he cares about, and that he has never betrayed your trust. On the other hand, you are not good with words and Sanji doesn't care for expensive gifts, which makes you fear, sometimes, you could do more to prove how much you care for him, and how committed you are to your relationship; the truth is, you love him so much, a feeling deeper and more encompassing than anything you thought you would be able to feel, that you lack the words to express it, and any declaration, no matter how grandiose or romantic, would fall short of your actual feelings.

Then, you suddenly realize, maybe you shouldn't tell him; after all, like your father always says, actions do speak louder than words...

Sanji's stares, eyes wide open, as he sees you take off your camisole. A moment later, he hurries to unbutton your shirt, and you move to help him, and somehow, maybe because you're in a hurry or because your hands are shaking, you tear off a button.

"Oh, Gods..." you stutter, embarrassment filling you "I'm so sorry, I... I'll sew it back on, I promise..."

Sanji shakes his head, as if to say you needn't worry; he is a sight to behold, short of breath, his usually pale complexion turned pink with excitement - with lust. He looks at you, he looks at your hands still holding the two panels of his shirt, and orders:

"Tear it off."

"... what?"

"Rip it off me. (name), please, I want you to undress me."

"Are... are you sure?" you ask again; the idea is more than a little exciting, but the experienced seamstress and future fashion designer in you hesitates at the thought of ruining a perfectly serviceable item of clothing.

Sanji grins, desire and affection filling his brown eyes. "Yeah, sure; it's an old one. Please, darling..."

"As you wish..."

A sound of tearing and ripping fills the room, and a moment later Sanji's shirt, now missing every single of its buttons and irreparably damaged, lies on the floor, while he's naked from the waist up - and Gods, just looking at him is enough to make you forget any hesitancy you may have... including the ones regarding the presence of your father, in his bedroom at the other hand of the corridor.

He smiles, more than aware of the effect he's having on you, as he shamelessly stares back at your body. "Come here, my beauty." he invites you, and a moment later he has taken you in his arms once again, your hands moving on each other's newly exposed skin.

"Let's move to the bed." you propose in a whisper between kisses, and laugh softly as Sanji hurriedly picks you up, bridal style, to carry you and delicately lay you down on the light blue sheets of your bed. A minute to take off your shoes, and he has joined you; you are kissing again as he makes quick work of your bra's clasp, but Sanji stops to admire you, lying under him, and for a moment he seems unable to speak.

"You are so beautiful." he murmurs; he looks you in the eyes, to gauge your reaction and make sure he's not overstepping, before letting his hand brush against and then close around your breast "My (name)... I've waited for this moment since I was maybe twelve, you know?"

"You could have told me before."

"A gentleman never asks, he waits for the lady to offer."

You smile, shamelessly enjoying the sensuality of his touch, the delicious sensation of Sanji's warm hands caressing and stimulating and gently squeezing the warm flesh of your chest; he sees you jolt when the pad of his thumb finds your nipple, and smiles, and you smile with him.

"Well, this lady is offering." you point out a moment later; you want there to be no doubt or ambiguity about what you want "I want you, Sanji. Will you make love to me?"

Unexpectedly, and while you can see the desire in his eyes as he looks at you, he hesitates. "You know we don't have to do it." he softly points out "You don't... owe me anything; I don't want you to think this is something we need to do in order to make our relationship last, or since we have been together for a while..."

"I know. I... I just want to live this with you; I want you to be my first, as well the last. I want you, and I'm tired of hiding it."

"(name), I..."

"Sanji, please."

That last word, as well as the tone you utter it in, being begged to take you in his arms and make you scream, would make even the most dispassionate man forget himself, and Sanji is far from that. In a whisper, he asks you to lift your hips, and takes both your skirt and panties off; he licks his lips as he looks at you, as if anticipating what he is going to do to you, and delicately lifts your foot in his hands. His first kiss is placed on your ankle, and then the second at the bottom at your calf, and the third a bit above it, and then on your knee and on your thigh until Sanji is lying on the bed between your open legs, and the sensation of his tongue and hips doing magic on the most hidden part of you is so delicious, so lurid and at the same time heavenly, you have to press your hand to your mouth to keep yourself from screaming. You can feel the wave mounting inside you, and you couldn't stop it even if you wanted to, and a minute later your first real orgasm hits you, and you are shaking in Sanji's grasp as he licks you like a man starved, proud and excited by the pleasure he was able to give you.

Your eyes meet above your heaving chest; you are both smiling, breathless. "That was... amazing." you whisper, and Sanji grins as he reaches to kiss you once more, neither bothering about the taste.

"We have just started." he assures you "Will you help me with my clothes, darling?"

He stands from the bed to let you take his trousers off, smiling softly as he sees how your hands shake; a moment later he's finally naked, and you can't help gulping as you gently take his erection in your hand, heavy and hard. You swallow, and instinctively lower your face to it to lick the tip.

Sanji jumps. "Shit..."

"I'm sorry, I thought... that was ok..." you stammer, suddenly alarmed "Did I hurt you?"

"Hurt?" he repeats, completely breathless, as if he had never heard that word before "Quite... quite the opposite. I... (name), I..."

He can't find the words to describe what he wants, but thank God you know it already, and this is miles beyond what you had already experience in, but you must be naturally talented, or perhaps this is one of those things you simply know how to do. You keep Sanji's eyes in yours as you take his erection in your mouth, swallowing it almost to the base and using your lips, your tongue and even (cautiously) your teeth to give him pleasure; he moans, bucking his hips, his hands caressing your hair.

"God... you're so good, baby... you take me so well..."

Emboldened, you wish you could make him climax with your mouth, but Sanji asks you to stop after a while, smiling as he sees you pout. "As much as I love the feeling of your mouth, there is somewhere else I'd rather come." he tell you as he cleans your lips with his fingers "Let me take care of you."

A silent nod is the only answer you feel able to give, and the only one Sanji needed; your hand guides him back on the bed where, a slight and natural awkwardness covered by your kisses, Sanji lies above you, gently caressing your hair as he lifts your leg above his hips.

"I love you." you murmur; you feel barely able to breathe, but those words easily leave your lips, as natural as a breath "Sanji, let me be with you forever."

He smiles, pressing his forehead to yours; he isn't inside you yet, but the intimacy of that moment goes beyond what you could describe in words, the marvelous feeling of being one, a closeness born from love and passion and trust and empathy. You doubt you will ever feel anyone as close as Sanji is in that moment, and that makes you happy.

"Nothing and no one will ever come between us." he murmurs "I promise."

*****

You spend what feels like hours locked in an embrace, exchanging lazy but hot kisses as your hands explore each other's body. Your fondling makes Sanji grow turgid once more, and he has to use your pillow to suffocate his screaming (yes, screaming) as you do get to make him come in your mouth; he gets even a minute later when you both find out that you really enjoy your chest being sucked, which Sanji does until you are a moaning mess, begging for mercy, and he has to gift you your third orgasm, this time using his fingers, to make you calm down.

This night is perfect; this night feels as if it would never end. Unfortunately, this is not the case, and an hour before dawn, after he risked for the second time to fall asleep with his cheek pressed against your chest and your fingers in his hair, Sanji reluctantly abandons the warmth of your bed, and of your body, to get dressed. You both know it can't be helped; if your father discovered him in your bed, even now that you are an adult and about to go live on your own, the consequences would be catastrophic.

"Things will be different once we have moved to the capital." you reassure him as you pick up what is left of his shirt to throw it away "I want my dad to visit, but we can tell him we met again on campus and decided to date; he does like you, and he'll accept I am old enough to have a boyfriend."

"I hope he will." Sanji considers, as he ties his shoes; he hesitates for a moment, and then: "What if I wanted to tell him the truth?"

"You mean...?"

"About us, yes. I could have never given up on you, (name), but I didn't like lying to your father; I owe him so much, and I'd like give his blessing to our relationship. Don't you?"

Nothing would make you happier, even though, you must admit, the prospect of having to confess you have deliberately disobeyed him for five years is not pleasant; you love your father, and the last thing you have ever wanted was to disappoint him, even though there is no price you wouldn't have paid if it meant being with Sanji. You admire the fact your boyfriend wants to be honest with his benefactor, and you need - no, you want to be as brave as he is.

"Then we will tell him."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. It's not going to be pretty, and I know he'll be very angry, but he deserves the truth. We all do." you point out with a sigh; then, seeing Sanji is almost done getting dressed: "Wait..."

You stand as well, and walk to the mannequin wearing the men's shirt, an elegant light blue model with white collar and cuffs. You return to Sanji to offer him the shirt. "Here, wear this."

"... are you sure?"

"Of course, I had planned to give it to you to celebrate your admission to the Baratie. Try it on, let me see how it looks on you."

It looks great, even though it is perhaps more because of Sanji's good looks and physique than anything else; he carefully buttons it, and happily looks at himself in the full-length mirror. "My favourite tie will go perfectly with this."

"I know, why do you think I chose this colour?"

Naked as you are, you don't feel cold, especially as you feel Sanji's gaze lingering on your body as his brown eyes admire the flesh he has lost himself in just two hours ago, but that he's not yet sated by.

Soon, your smile tells him as you return the gaze, committing the beauty of his lithe but strong body to memory, as soon as we have moved to our dormitories, or as soon as my father has to leave for one of his work trips. I want you again too; I think I'll never stop wanting you.

As usual Sanji seems to understand you without the need for words, because he smiles once more and, as soon as he is done admiring himself in the mirror (which you cannot blame him for; the shirt does look amazing on him!) he takes your face in his hands to kiss you once more. "I am so happy." he murmurs "Happy we got to share this moment. I... I do want to be with you forever, but..."

"... but you are happy I was your first, and you mine. I know, Sanji; I feel the same."

You spend a precious minute like this, your foreheads touching, your fingers intertwined, as you breathe in each other's air and savour that new form of intimacy. In this moment, you are not afraid Sanji can doubt your feelings anymore; but in any case, you promise yourself, you'll still make sure he knows how much you love him, every day from now to eternity.

In the end, it's time for your boyfriend to go. He takes his backpack and insists you put your nightgown on, in case one of the neighbours looks out of their windows, before you accompany him on the balcony, where a last kiss sees him climb over the parapet and cautiously reach the tree's closest branches.

"Thanks for the cake! It was really delicious."

Sanji winks at you, mischievousness dancing in his eyes. "I think you thanked me enough already."

"Oh, you are so vulgar..."

Your laugh follows him as Sanji quickly climbs down the tree, finally reaching the ground safe and sound; he looks up at you and waves, and you wave back, and "I'll be back soon; I promise." he says, and you nod as he starts walking away, and remain where you are until Sanji has disappeared, hidden in the murmuring darkness surrounding the villa.

#One Piece #One Piece Live Action #OPLA #Sanji #Vinsmoke Sanji #Black Leg Sanji x reader l #Black Leg Sanji #Sanji x reader #Vinsmoke Sanji x reader #Black Leg Sanji x reader #Taz Skylar #Bellona's stuff

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hoshigray · 11 months

Text

A Pricked Hand to Hold

Just thinking about h*lding h*nds with Miguel for the first time bc I'm still fucking soft for this man (like it's so bad).

An: Yup, it's been three weeks, and my infatuation for this man has yet to falter (or that movie in general bc I've seen it like 5-6 times already, and can't get tired of it). This was meant to be a little smthn, but I just wanted to get my soft aggression out of the way. Also, tysm for 1k followers again!! Like fr, y'all are too sweet :') Sacrificed sleep to get this done, sooooo hope you guys like it!! If there are spelling/grammar errors, my dumbass will take care of it tmrw bc I need to take a fckin nap right tf now ahhhhhh— Also! Gonna make an ATSV masterlist later today, so I'll be sure to link it when it's done!!

Cw: Miguel x reader - fluff - h*nd h*lding (barf) - the reader is implied to be in college (at least age 20) - you and Miguel aren't together [yet] but the pining is strong in this one! - Lyla and Jessica teasing you lovestruck idiots lol - you accidentally prick yourself with your lead pencil, but no blood or injuries - ayo you and Miguel almost kiss tho??

Wc: 2.1k

As usual, it was a busy day at headquarters. Many anomalies have been captured for Margo to send back home, Spiders helping other Spiders fight off evil-doers and placing them back in their universes, and Pavitr having a scare nearly revealing his identity to his girlfriend, Gayatri.

Then there's you, sitting at a table doing your homework that needs to be finished for the lecture tomorrow. But you're not alone. In front of the table are three others discussing matters of their own. Lyla is giving new information about another anomaly that needs to be captured before going home, and Jessica's leaning on her motorbike listening to her pixel friend. Right next to her is another taller person listening along as well.

Miguel O'Hara — leader of the Spider Society and the man you've been pining for a while now.

You've been working here for a few months, taking in Margo's shifts or helping Lyla relay messages to other Spiders across the multiverse. At first, you've tried to keep it simple and only see it as a job. But the more you work here, the closer you get to others...and your boss, Miguel, is no exception.

Things started short and blunt with him between you two — just simple greetings and exchanges of the necessary information. But then there was a time when the man was in HQ for far too long, probably sacrificing too much sleep and time to eat that day. So, you got him something from the cafeteria and a little note telling him to "Take care of yourself, leader!" before going home.

From that day on, you and Miguel got closer slowly but surely. Not only does he appreciate you reminding him to take breaks or grab something to eat, but he also checks up on you whenever it's your shift, talks to you on his breaks, or eats dinner with you whenever he has a chance (or when he's not stressed out).

And how you talk to each other is much more comfortable and personal. Sure, you're still respectful of his position and are aware of his duties, but it's always a guilty pleasure when he spends his little free time with you. Unfortunately, you've developed feelings for the tall and brawny Spiderman due to this.

You know how complicated it is to have feelings for someone, especially within the work field, so this is something that you have no faith in whatsoever. But for some reason, you can't help but think something between the two of you is starting to bloom...and based on his actions, maybe Miguel feels the same way as well? Lyla and Jessica tease you, saying it's plain to see that even Pav fangirls about you two.

".../n."

However, for a man like him, is such a thing possible?

"Y/n."

Your thoughts vanish as you turn to the person calling for your attention, just to find it's from Miguel. The two women are nowhere to be found, probably tending to other matters you didn't catch because of your overthinking.

"Yes!" you stutter a reply. Oh God, I hope I didn't make him call on me so many times...

"Done with your homework?" He asks while coming to your side of the table.

You give him a nod, fidgeting with your mechanical pencil. "Yeah, I took care of the stuff for my classes tomorrow. Now I just got a paper to finish by Friday...What about you? Gonna head out soon?"

"I would, but I gotta stay here in case Jess needs backup for the mission. She just left to fix up her bike before she goes."

A chuckle sneaks past you, and Miguel swoons at the sound of it. "Are you sure you wanna do that? Didn't Lyla keep bothering you the last time?"

You can tell he reminisces the time you recall; his sigh and a shake from the lead confirm so. "Yeah, well, when is she not bothering me."

"Heard that." The woman appears in front of him quickly before disappearing again, leaving Miguel a little puzzled before a slight scowl paints his face. Yet it's not so bad when he sees you laugh at the interaction.

"I swear," your giggles wear down, but your smile remains. "It's like you two are siblings or something. But that just means the pestering comes from a place of love."

He hums at your words. "Yeah, love..."

For the past few months, you've been a reoccurring theme in Miguel's life that he thought he'd never experience again. From the day he met you, he figured keeping his distance and maintaining an appropriate work relationship would benefit him. But he was a fool to challenge your beauty and welcoming aura whenever you entered the scene. Especially your kind gestures, starting with the food and your little note for him.

It was apparent then that avoidance would do more harm to himself than good, so he spent his days getting to know you more, understanding you more, appreciating you more...and worse, loving you more.

An emotion such as love has been something that's only brought up painful memories and anguish. And for that reason, Miguel has chosen to dedicate his life and being to doing something he's good at — his job protecting the multiverse. Because, in his eyes, it's the only thing he seems capable of. Not love.

...However, whenever you look at him, speak to him, or smile at him, Miguel can't fight the twinge of his heart longing for something — longing for you. And he knows he isn't the only one who thinks so since Lyla constantly ridicules him about his "schoolboy crush," just like a sibling.

Nonetheless, he still doesn't go far from the talks you share with him or the times you eat together in a friendly manner. Because that's what he and you are comfortable with, and he wouldn't want to break it. Yet he can't help but wonder what would happen if he was just a little more selfish.

Be more selfish and pursue you...without losing you.

"OUCH!!"

Without hurting you.

Miguel's thoughts are immediately halted when he hears your hurtful cry. You drop your pencil and grab your finger as you wince through the pain. And he wastes no time coming to your proximity to examine what happened. "What!? Something wrong?"

"Ahhhh, yeah, I'm fine," You reassure him with an attempted smile. "I just accidentally pricked myself with my pencil."

"Let me see."

The words take a long to register before the man takes your hand in his, the back of your hand resting on his palm while he surveys your fingers. He then sees a tiny circle indent on your middle finger. "I don't see any pieces of lead."

"Oh, thank goodness," you exhale in relief. "Because I don't think I'd survive tomorrow if I did. I got three lectures that day!"

Miguel chortles at your comment, and it has the beat of your heart quicken. "So sorry for you."

Your smile is still prominent. "Thank you, Miguel."

"Don't mention it."

Silence follows those words, yet they're substituted with gazes between you and the man. The twinge on your lips slowly dissolves the more you lose yourself in his burnt amber eyes. The same goes for Miguel, who still has your hand in his.

The internal turmoil in his mind doesn't ease at that fact, incapable of deciphering whether to let go. And when your hand slowly reciprocates the hold — turning it for both palms to face each other — his breath hitches.

"Miguel..." his name appeared in a whisper, only for him to hear. Your breathing goes shaky when he replies with his fingers intertwined with yours. And you notice him take a tense gulp, easing your nerves to know that he's also nervous.

He knows he shouldn't be this close to you as it could jeopardize the relationship you have spent all these months building and maintaining together. However, this is the first time he's been so close to you, touching you. And his heart pushes him to want more.

He knows he shouldn't...but curiosity is an intriguing dance. That's why he slowly leans forward to you.

And you go rigid by the notion...yet your eyes are drawn to his lips, and you follow suit by going inward. Eyes close, letting the moment take place for itself.

"Ready, Miguel?"

Nevermind.

Both eyes open immediately, and locked hands are withdrawn from each other. Miguel puts on his mask quickly, but you could still see a slight flush of pink on his cheeks and ears before they were covered up. You straighten yourself and look to the other side of the table to see Jessica on her motorbike entering the scene.

And just like that, the moment was gone.

"Oh—" the woman spots you two before Miguel stands straight up, and she doesn't try to hide the smile that creeps on her face. "Oh. Was I interrupting something?"

"No." You two say in unison. Jess only lifts a brow through her yellow goggles. You continue with an explanation while you pack up your stuff. "I accidentally pricked my finger with my mechanical pencil, so Miguel checked it out to see if I had any lead on it."

"Ooh, yeah, those aren't fun. Basically like a splinter." Before Jessica could say more, Lyla appeared in everyone's line of sight.

"Good, you two are still here." She jumps around between Jessica and Miguel. "The anomaly we discussed earlier has jumped to another dimension as predicted; better get them now so we can go home."

The two nod while you get up from the table with your backpack. "Good luck out there, guys." You address the older three before exiting for the night, and they all say their goodbyes to you.

For a few seconds, your eyes linger on Miguel. Despite the mask covering his face, his gaze was intense and palpable. Without saying a word, you let your eyes say your final words before turning to leave.

Miguel still watches you leave until he's unable to spot you through the dark hall. And unfortunately for him, he can feel two pairs of eyes on him. He mentally prepares himself before looking at the two women who harbor shameless grins. "What's with the faces?"

Lyla and Jessica only share a look amongst themselves and shrug before answering him. "Oh, I don't know, Miguel." The pixelated woman darts close to the man. "What's with your face?"

"Wh-What are you—"

"C'mon now, Miguel." Jessica cuts him off. "Seems like something more was going on than just a pricked finger."

He sighs. "Well, you're wrong. Because that's all it was." The two share another look with each other as their smirks go higher.

"Oh~, my darling Miguel," Jessica changes her voice to a higher pitch and daydream tone. "I wish you luck on your mission and that you return to see me tomorrow~."

"Don't you worry, my wonderful Y/n," Despite Miguel's eyes narrowing at Lyla's terrible impression of his voice, she still acted out the role. "I will return to you unscathed and have you in my loving arms in no time~."

"I don't talk like that." The two women chuckle at his blunt statement. "How old do you think I am?"

"Old enough to look like a man but still scared to talk to your lil' crush." Jessica crosses her arms with a matter-of-fact attitude, her smile itching broader when Miguel rolls his eyes through the mask.

"Ay, por Dios, can we please open the portal already?" The poor man can only take so much teasing from the two, making him feel like he should've left with you instead.

Lyla giggles one last time before Jessica uses her watch to open a portal to the desired dimension. "Whatever you say, lover boy." The portal opens, and a flash of colors and shapes contrasts with the dull room. Jessica is the first to go, Miguel following right behind her.

Even when going on his mission, his mind can't stop thinking about you and the moment you shared together earlier. It was a risky thing to have happened, and he scolds himself for letting such a thing happen. Miguel knows he isn't a person for love, for it's something meant to be destroyed by his very touch. You are no exception; the last thing he wants to do is hurt you. He loves you too much to put you through that.

But then the compliance and willingness you've expressed in holding his hand surely meant that you wanted something more, right?

If Miguel were selfish enough, he'd use that as a hint. A hint to look forward to what other things you'd allow him to express to you.

If he were selfish enough, he would plan to approach you tomorrow in the right way.

If he were selfish enough, he'd test out the waters more and finally let this "love" flourish into something better.

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 3 months

Text

Taking It From the Best ~Mistress!Narcissa Malfoy x EarlySVU!Alex Cabot xFem Pet!Younger!Reader

Summary— A little crossover scenario Harry Potter x Law & Order SVU… AU where Narcissa is Alex and Reader’s mistress. Early SVU seasons Alex and Reader are roughly the same age, Narcissa is older. This is pure filth.

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, smut, threesomes, strap-on fucking, doggystyle sex, eating out (oral), implied overstimulation, collaring, use of a leash, light bondage, mistress kink, pet kink, collaring kink, implied power play, implied sub/dom relationships, praise, physical comforting, aftercare, etc.

Enjoy (;

“Oh Jesus fucking Christ—” you groaned.

Alex’s tongue curled inside your aching walls like fucking ecstasy, making your toes curl and your mouth open in a silent scream. The blonde’s face was being propelled in and out of your cunt by the rhythm of which Narcissa was fucking her.

The older woman was on the bed on her knees holding Alex’s hips with one hand, while her other held a leash attached to a collar. A collar which was around your neck, squeezing your airway in the most delicious way. With a swift tug from Narcissa, your body spasmed as you were pulled closer towards Alex’s savage mouth.

“Such a good girls for your mistress my Darlings… pet, my love, don’t fight it… That will only make it harder, just relax for your mistress…” Narcissa cooed lustfully, before punctuating her words with a couple twisted thrusts into the blonde’s dripping pussy.

“Oh FUCK Mistress—!!” Alex cried out, panting heavily and shaking lightly.

Alex was sandwiched in between the two of you, on her forearms and knees, and taking Narcissa’s plastic cock as it pounded into her from behind. Her eyes were rolling back as she fought to continue to eat you out while coming closer and closer to climax herself.

Your head lolled back, your body splayed out on the bed, legs wide for Alex’s face and Narcissa’s gaze. Your wrists were bound together above your head, along with the collar around your neck. It was tight enough to stifle some of your noises, but not enough to choke you out entirely. Every time you attempted to squirm away from underneath Alex’s relentless tongue, Narcissa would ruthlessly tug you even closer by the leash attached to your collar…

“Fuck I’m gonna… gonna cum again Mistresss please…!!” You moaned mindlessly, thrashing beneath Alex’s hot mouth and tugging at your restraints and leash.

Narcissa only tightened her hold on you and only fucked Alex harder, making the blonde spew moan after moan into your soaked cunt. Alex’s administrations faltered as she quickly approached her own high.

“Shit Mistress m-me too God Please!!” Alex begged, holding onto your thighs for dear life as Narcissa pounded into her from behind.

“Alex, Darling, make our pet cum. Once she has, then you may as well…” Narcissa purred.

Alex didn’t need anymore prompting, swiftly diving back into your core. With a couple more tongue thrusts into your pussy, your walls were clenching around Alex’s tongue as you came. Your back arched as you tugged against your wrist restraints as Narcissa held your leash tight while pile driving into Alex. The walls of pleasure around you came crashing down as your body spasmed in white, hot pleasure.

Alex was quick to cum right after you, falling over the edge, her cunt clenching around Narcissa’s cock. The blonde and your screams of pleasure coincided and echoes throughout the room reeking of sex. With one final thrust from Narcissa, Alex’s body collapsed onto the bed, along with yours.

Narcissa was quick to remove the strap-on and come up to the two of her girls. She caressed each of you, giving you light forehead kisses and making sure to untie you. You were panting heavily, just as Alex was.

“Darlings, you both did so good for your mistress… such good girls…” the older woman praised.

After you had both gotten a chance to catch your breaths, Narcissa ushered you two to the lavish bathroom in order to clean you up and then get you ready for bed. You followed the older woman’s command mindlessly, knowing and trusting her every word. Your heart swelled in delight as the night ended with Narcissa cuddling both of you in bed, where your eyes got heavy quickly and it wouldn’t take you nor Alex long to slip into deep slumbers.

~~~

Alex Cabot Masterlist

Narcissa Malfoy Masterlist

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josibunn · 7 months

Note

Hi, its the bunny!Danny/kappa anon👋

So lets say his cutsy, fluffy bunny ears are veryy sensitive. So reader asks to braid/play with his hair and he's like "sure but be careful with my ears." and is like blushing. So r thinks its just like a personal thing or something but then she accidentally nudges his ears a few times and he whimpers. She apologizes but hes like fully in subspace at this point so hes begging her to do something. She helps him out a bit, rides him and after he's already come multiple times hes soo overstimulated but shes soo close and towards the end she pinches his ear and pulls his hair at the same time and they both come.

Degrading, praise, nicknames: mommy, momma, bunny

I've literally been thinking about this since the whole bunny! Danny/kappa thing has been going around

anon you’re a visionary, omg. I love this!!! think imma do kappa, he goes a little unnoticed ^_^. thank u for the ask!!

bunny!kappa x reader! smut, obvi, warnings in the ask, unprotected p in v, hair pulling, overstim, oral sex, cum eating, he’s just so needy n just can’t take it :( also I set this in 2023 bc? I don’t really know when this episode takes time in?? black mirror is a little confusing with stuff like that lolz

tl: @culkineater @bambi-horror @bluemercy2

(this gif is sooo hot idk..the way he wraps his hand around her like take me NOW)

you’re laying on your shared bead with your boyfriend. his heads on your chest as you watch a movie he put on, tracing shapes with your nail over his skin. you watch his handsome face, his eyes darting around the tv screen, and there’s a cute glint in his eyes from the light reflecting.

you move some of his hair out the way to get a better look at his cheeks, and he notices, looking up at you. “somethin’ wrong?” he looks up at you. “hm? no, jus’ lookin’ at you.” you shrug with a smile, and he returns.

you admire his curls as he turns back to the tv, adjusting his head so his ears wouldn’t be in your face. “baby, can I braid your hair?” you ask. he always brushed away when your touched his hair, never knew why, but you didn’t mind it.

“my hair?” he looks up, scooting back to face you, now on his stomach. “uhh..sure. sure yeah.” he nods, lifting up. you falter, “is that ok? we don’t have to, I was just asking.”

“nono it’s fine, it’s..just my ears, try not to touch them a lot.” he nods, giving you a blushy shy little smile. “these ones? will it hurt? if that’s the case then I won’t do it,” “no it won’t hurt, just be careful, please? g-go ahead,” he scoots back and crosses his legs, and you nod. he’d do anything for you, even at his own expense.

you get behind him on your knees and part his hair down the middle with your nail to get rid of that fuckass schmiddle part he had, probably just gonna give him some tiny rows down the back to get it out of his face. hes watching the tv and fiddling with his fingers as you separate parts near his human ear, flipping the rest of the hair out of the way, and accidentally brushing against his bunny ears.

he flinches and they bat against your touch, “mm, sorry honey.” you mumble, but all he does is nod, so you don’t think anything of it. you hum as you continue braiding, and as you move up further on his head, it gets harder and harder to not touch his ears.

“sorry baby,” “ooh-didn’t mean to, m’sorry,” you’re apologizing through and through, and you can’t even get halfway through the braid before you’re hearing him whimper at another brush of his ear, making you stop.

at first you think he’s hurt. “kappa? baby did I hurt you?” you crawl around in front of him and grab his chin, making him look up at you. his cheeks are flushed brows are knit as he looks up at you, hands in his lap

“n-no. no I just-..” “then what’s wrong? is something wrong?” you’re cradling his face. he nods, “I want you, momma. please.” he mumbles. your brows raise, “huh?” “want you so bad..please..” he leans back on his hands and spreads his legs on the side of you, and you notice his long cock poking against his shorts, sitting heavy on his thigh.

you flush, “oh baby,” “need it so bad, I couldn’t take it. just do something please I-momma I need you..” he’s whining, and before you know it he’s grabbing your wrist and slapping your hand on his clothed cock, using your hand and rubbing himself for some sort of relief.

he moans behind his lips, head thrown back as you take over, a small smile on your lips. “you poor thing, momma accidentally got you all worked up?” you’re kissing his cheek, down his jaw and to his neck, and precum is staining his shorts.

he nods, “mhm, felt so good.” so that’s what he meant by sensitive. interesting. you smile against his skin as you slip your hand into his boxers, pulling his dick out and using his pre as lube, stroking him slowly.

he whines, bucking into your hand. “don’t do this to me, please touch me..please,” he whimpered. “cmon baby you know the rules, you take what I fuckin’ give you, ok? stop movin,” you whisper as you watch his cock jump in your hand. his hands digging into the cover as his chest heaves, head thrown back already and tiny moans falling off his tongue.

“you’re so mean..please momma..just a lil more,” he pouts, and your brows raise. “i’m mean? i’m giving my baby what he wants and i’m mean?” you yank his head back by his hair, squeezing his cock as he moans out, cheeks pink and brows knit together.

his back arches as you pull harder, forcing him down onto the bed. you stroke his cock faster and his body squirms under you, fucking your fist. “see what you’re doing to yourself? what I have you doing to yourself? and you have the nerve to call me mean..” you faux pout as you kiss his lips softly, and he’s moaning into your mouth, mumbling whinily.

“m’sorry momma, m’sorry know I didn’t mean it,” he holds your back as you smile against his lips, his gasping and little moans are music to your ears. “you’re so pretty sugar, know that? hm?” you giggle as his cheeks flush again, “you are too momma, did you make my hair look pretty?” “almost, it’s ok though. love you like this.” you stick your tongue in his mouth, drool getting all over your two.

he moans out when he feels your fingers run up the back of his head and graze his ears, it was intentional, you could feel how his breath quickens as you continue to tongue fuck his mouth. he tried to keep up, but he’s too overtaken by you and everything you’re doin, you’re just so nasty.

“momma please, i’m gunna cum, can’t h-hold it i’m gonna cum y’gonna make me cUm,” he squeaks, gripping your arm. he cums hard on the stomach of his shirt, pulling away to watch himself make a mess, and you watch too, shocked at the puddle.

“really needed that, huh baby?” you coo, making him look up at you. his eyes are wide and blown, fogged over with a subby sort of lust only you could bring out.

“you think you could go again? hm baby?” you unbutton his shirt and push it off his chest, holding his body down as you climb on top. “yes, yes, need you so bad momma.” he nods frantically, watching you peel your soaked bottoms off.

“wanna feel that wet pussy,” he reaches under you and pushes his two fingers in you, and you moan out, surprised at the sudden dominance your boyfriend exhibited. “holy fuck momma,” he gasps as you hold onto his shoulder, brows furrowed as you hide your face in his neck, almost losing your cool, dominant side.

“fuckin’ soakin’, can you ride my cock? please?” he whimpers as you moan in his ear, nodding. “of c-course baby, been so good for me, haven’t you?” you moan as he sped up his fingers in you, huffing as he watches your pussy gush over his fingers. “my good boy?” you grab his cock, and he moved his fingers out of you and grips your thighs as you rub his tip against your pulsating hole, gathering your wetness.

“mhm, your good boy,” he cuts himself with a groan as you slide and your eyes almost roll back. you gasp and moan out when you feel him latch his arm around your back and push you quicker and further down on his length, his cock spearing you open with the stretch, you should’ve prepped yourself better.

“w-wait a second bun, gimme a second,” you moan shakily holding onto his chest, panting. “feel so good momma, cmon please..” he begs, he’s rocking you slowly against him, where was this coming from? all because you pulled his hair and brushed against his little ears?

you whimper, sitting up, your hands flat on his chest. “calm down, kay baby?” you slide up his cock slowly, trying to pace yourself for him.

he nods and hisses, hand gripping your hip as he watched you come off his cock, your wetness coating his veiny dick. “god momma, love your pussy so baad,” he whines looking up at you. “I know bun I know, feel so fuckin’ good you know that? huh?” you pant, your eyes fluttering as you pussy clenches against him, and he notices, his arm gripping your body and pulling you closer.

he sits up on his elbow, breathing in your air as he nods frantic, eyes blown and cheeks pink. “m-more, please.” he whispers, eyes fixated on the way your (his) shirt falls off your shoulder and to your exposed breasts before he looks back up at you. you hold his shoulders, your face in his neck and a hand traveling up his hair.

“how much more baby?” you kiss his neck, and he holds you tighter with a small gasp. “m-more, just wan’ more of you momma please..” he moans, starting to shove you down on him a little. not enough to knock you, but enough to give himself a little more pleasure.

you moan lightly as you bite at his neck, “baby you’re-..s-slow down, kay?” you pull at his hair and jerk him back, but he groans into the air, eyes rolling back and mouth going slack.

“can’t fuckin’ take it momma, my god,” he starts shoving you down on him as he thrusts upwards, and you moan, wrapping yourself around his body more at the sudden force. “—gasp— kappa!” you shriek, your mouth falling open with moans flying off your tongue.

“m’sorry,” he pleads, “just feel so fuckin’ good, too fuckin’ good,” he whines, and he’s fucking into you with all his might, cock hitting deep into you as you latch onto the back of his head, hair in your grasp. “k-kappa, bunny slow down! yer’ sposed’ to be my good boy,” you whimper, your drool pooling on his neck as he groans.

“I am your good boy momma..just feel so good, doin’ me so good,” he pants. he bear hugs you and falls back on the bed, his back arched as he slams into you with his feet planted on the bed. he’s moaning whinily, head thrown back as you moan loud in his ear, nails digging into his skin and pulling his hair back.

he moans high, “momma, don’t stop, don’t fucking stop,” he pants. “touch me, touch them please, fucking please baby,” his eyes roll back as he swallows back drool.

he grips onto your thighs and slams you down as you crawl back on top of him body jerking violently as you try to ground yourself, whimpering at how deep he was pounding into you, he was never like this with you, not usually so so needy and bent out of shape.

you look into his eyes, taking in each others moans and groans as you hold his head, hands traveling up to caress the backs of his fluffy little ears, and his eyes widen as his breath falters, legs staring to shake as he pounds into you mercilessly, and you feel your orgasm approaching with his, his cock twitching inside of you with each deep kiss of your cervix.

“oh my god, ohmygod momma fuck,” his eyes roll back and his neck rolls over, mouth agape and brows knit together. “ gonna cum, think i’m gonna fuckin’ cum momma,” he looks at you with doey eyes, cheeks pink and lips glossy. “please can I cum, wanna cum so bad,” he whines, but you shake your head, eyes squeezing shut as you squeeze onto him, your stomach bubbling with a familiar knot.

“not yet babyboy, not yet, yknow the rules,” you moan, starting to fuck back on him, little “awe awe awe” sounds coming from you as your hands shake around him, your dam breaking, trying not to babble on his cock as your orgasm hits you like a truck.

you pant as you continue to ride him, “how you feelin baby? think you can hold it some more?” you kiss his cheek as he shakes his head, “n-no, please I wanna cum so bad, i’ve been a good boy,” he sniffles, and you grin.

“you have,” you faux pout before locking lips with his and rolling your hips on his, hands reaching up and rubbing down his ears, and before you know it he’s scrambling, clawing at your back and pawing at the covers as he whispers and moans in your mouth, your tongue in the way of his babbling, but you make out a tiny bit as he cums inside you, cock twitching.

you sigh together as you keep rocking on him, and he starts to push your body away, shaking his head in the kiss. “no, n-no no more, please.” he whines as you rub his shoulders, looking down at him.

“but you wanted to cum so badly just a second ago baby,” you coo, lifting up and watching his load roll down his cock and onto his thighs as you continue to push him over his limit, a nasty squelching and clapping sound being heard each time you bounce back on his cock, trying to milk him for all he’s worth, since someone wants to cum so bad.

“momma, can’t, please,” he whines, but you feel his hips hitter as he ruts into you. “love when you deny baby, so cute,” you pull off him with a huff and he falls back as you lay next to him, smiling. “you were so good baby, yknow that? did so well for momma,” you caress his cheek as he smiles weakly, looking over to you with low eyes.

“you were so good too, loved it so much,” he was so deep in subspace he wasn’t even forming sentences, it was cute.

you play with his hair, looking down and noting the cum still seeping out of you. “you made a big mess bun, must’ve felt real good today.” you spread your legs, “cmon, be my good boy and clean me up, yeah?”

“y-yeah,” he nods and sits up, dropping down and pulling your legs apart, and you bite your lip as his tongue licks his nut off your pussy, head starting to roll back.

“that’s fuckin it baby, you got it bun,” you praise, back arching and a high moan coming from you as he dips his tongue inside you.

aaaaand fin!! I hope you enjoyed I SURE DID!! this was so fun, thank u so much anon. sorry it got so long, much love <33

#rory culkin #rory culkin smut #x black reader #kappa smut #kappa black mirror #bunny!kappa #L anon #kappa prompt

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yae-energy · 11 months

Text

i love my mann <3

synopsis: a collage of texts between you and your boyfriend L

cast: Bf! L x black fem reader

cw: very mild cursing, a brief homage to one of my other hc’s (im sorry y’all “the kids miss you” joke is just so funny to me yk i had to double ittt) . is a little ooc but SHHHH mind ya business

a/n: i had L brainrot thanks to @katsukissy , i love me a lil weirdo <3

“the kids… they miss you 😞💔”

“check your account” 💸

“i burnt dinner…😬”

#saint laurent productions #death note #death note x reader #death note x black reader #l x reader #l x black reader #x black fem reader #x reader #x fem!reader #x reader smau #smau au

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kikirites · 21 days

Text

꧁Easy lovers꧂

L Lawliet x gnreader

“𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐰𝐞'𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐟 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧e“

warnings: none

a/n: this post is pretty long so be warned!!!! Was L L-ing?? 😭 I feel like he wasn’t especially at that part with Watari

𐫰𑇍𐫰𑇍𐫰𑇍𐫰𑇍𐫰𑇍𐫰𑇍𐫰𑇍𐫰𑇍𐫰𑇍𐫰𑇍𐫰𑇍𐫰𑇍𐫰

Nights like these made your job worthwhile. Being able to relax and soak in the quiet ambiance after rush hour at the bakery was like coming home and sinking your teeth into that dish you had been thinking about all day, and savoring the delicious taste. You hummed one of the songs playing from the speakers while putting more sweets out on the display window. The sugary sweet aroma that wafted throughout the bakery added to the vibe of the place and to your relaxation. Once you got done with that, you went back to the counter and unconsciously zoned out.

Hearing the familiar ding of the bell at the door caught your attention. A man who seemed to be about 5’10 with black spiky hair and side swept bangs, walked in. He had a white long sleeve shirt on, with light blue jeans and white untied sneakers with his heel hanging off just a bit. You instantly recognized him. He frequently came to the bakery, and always ordered the same thing: strawberry cake. He ordered it so much you made sure to have some on standby in case he just so happens to visit. Silently walking towards the counter, you greeted him politely and asked if he’d be having his regular. He raised his eyebrows a little while nodding, surprised that you took the time to remember his order.

You opened the display window and carefully picked up the plate containing the slice of cake. He thanked you and paid for the sweet treat, then sat down at one of the tables in front of you. The both of you never talk to each other. Instead, you just bask in each other’s presence. Looking back on it you guess tonight was different, because he spoke up with a mouthful of cake and asked you why you remembered his order. “Well I guess it’s because you never change it, you always order the same thing so it’s easier to remember.” You explained. He hummed in acknowledgment, before taking a piece and eating again.

People came and went slowly but surely, then it was just you and him again. “What do you think about strawberry cake?” You perk up at the question and tell him you like it a lot.(sorry if you don’t like cake) “okay” he said while standing up and walking to the door. “Thank you for the cake,” his eyes traveled down to your name tag. ”[name], I’ll be sure to come back again.” “Please do, goodnight.” The bell of the door dings as he makes his way out, leaving you in silence one again.

A few hours later you closed the bakery and made your way home.

𐫱

The next day, things were different. There he was again sitting at the same table with the same slice of cake. This time though he asked you if you could sit with him. You were surprised at the question, but sat down with him anyway. Yeah he was a little weird and yeah he did sit weird too but that didn’t stop you. “Have you heard about Kira?” He muttered lowly after licking the frosting from his lips. “Yes I have, it’s honestly scary to know that there’s someone out there killing people,” he looked at you intensely waiting for you to continue. “I mean yeah I guess his intentions were good by trying to get rid of horrible people but I don’t think that’s the right way to go about it” you answered. “Understandable,” reaching for another portion of cake he asked you another question: “do you like sweet things?” “I do but I don’t regularly eat them.” “Alright.”

A pregnant pause followed suit afterwards. Seeing more people start to come in, you got up and told him you had to tend to them and go back to the counter. He nodded and went back to eating his cake. This went on for a couple of weeks. You both started spending more and more time together and he started coming in more frequently too. The conversations that were had started getting more deeper which resulted in you sometimes taking a couple of seconds to answer. It wasn’t just him asking all the questions anymore. Gradually you started asking some of your own like: “How did you find the bakery?” or “Do you think the police will catch Kira?”

“Oh I forgot to ask you, what’s your name?” A short beat of silence followed through. Just when you thought he wouldn’t say anything, you decide to apologize and tell him to just forget it but he opens his mouth and answers: “Hideki Ryuga” you perked up at the familiar name. “No way, like the celebrity?” “Yes, but I wouldn’t call myself a celebrity….” He trails off. “Well of course, it’s just surprising that’s all” “say [name], would you like to sit and talk together again sometime maybe when you’re not working?” Caught off guard you take few seconds to process what he just said then you stutter out a yes. “Great.” He responded and went back to his cake. You were still so shocked at his sudden question. ‘Was he asking me out?’ ‘Will it be a date?’ You asked yourself so many questions that you were too nervous to get an answer to. So for now you would just have to see how things played out. You told him you were free on Wednesdays and Sundays.

𐫱

About five weeks later on a chilly Sunday night, Ryuga and you met up at a cafe he had taken a liking to, and talked all night about anything and everything. He liked your different outlooks on various topics and was very fond of your intellectually stimulating conversations. The more you hung out with him the more you started looking forward to your little chats but little did you know, he felt the same. The end of the year came by in a flash and you both felt like you knew each other on a much more personal and deeper level than when you both started talking. He expressed his appreciation for your quietness and told you he liked how you never filled the air with needless conversation, instead opting to just soak up the quietness together. He told you that he was a college student majoring in criminal justice and it was his first year. Ryuga’s creative compliments touched your heart, soon you realized you had feelings for him. You started putting more effort into your appearance again and tried to look more appealing when you hung out together outside of work. Now, almost every little compliment he gave you, no matter how small, made your face warm. When your time together ended you both would try to make it last a bit longer. L was ecstatic to have finally found a true friend. To finally be able to understand what friendship was like for once.

After getting watari to find information about you, and declaring that you were a normal person, he decided to tell you his real identity. L showed up to the bakery and sat down at his usual spot while waiting for you to finish up with the rest of the customers. As he walked in you glanced at him and got his slice of cake ready after the previous customer left. You came up to him with his cake and sat down in front of him. “It’s been so busy recently, I’m so exhausted” you complained with a huff. Taking a piece of cake, L lifted his fork up to you. “Cake?” You nodded and took the fork from his fingers, accidentally brushing your fingers with his, and ate the sugar infested treat. “Thanks, I need some energy” “[name], I have something to tell you” he blurted out. “Oh okay go ahead” L’s eyes met yours. You both stared into each others eyes before L spoke up. “My name isn’t actually Hideki Ryuga, I’m L, a detective” you didn’t say anything. You were stunned. He really lied to you. You furrowed your eyebrows. You were extremely upset. Seeing your expression, L tried to console you. “I apologize for lying to you but I need to for my safety.” He explained. You had a downcast expression. Was everything you knew about him a lie? Was he investigating you to see if you were Kira? Was he telling the truth when he told you he appreciated you? Was he manipulating you? You understood that he did it for his safety but if it was that easy for him to lie then what else has he been lying about? “Uhm,” you swallowed thickly before continuing. “Were….you lying about everything else? Did you mean it when you said you appreciated me? Did you lie when you said you were a college student?” You looked up at him with more questions in your head.

L looked at you solemnly. He didn’t want you to think that he lied about everything. “I did mean it when I told you that I appreciated you, but I did lie when I said I was a college student,” he diverted his attention to his slice of cake. “I’m truly sorry.” He muttered. After that there was silence once more but this one was different from the comfortable silence you both were used to, no, this one was nasty and unpleasant. L hadn’t came to the bakery for the next few weeks. You didn’t seem to mind, it gave you more time to properly process your emotions. “Where’s your boyfriend at, [name]?” You co-worker teased. “He’s not my boyfriend, and I don’t know” you grumbled while rolling your eyes. “Trouble in paradise? Don’t worry I’m sure you both will get over it, don’t sweat it.” She assured you before clocking out. ‘I guess’ You grabbed a fork from the sink and cleaned it. Just then you heard to bell on the door ding, signaling that a customer had come in. Sighing, you walked out and wiped your wet hands on your pants.

There he was. L. Standing there slouched over with an unreadable expression. “L,” he walked over to where you were behind the counter. “Are you still upset?” He asked. “No, I’m not, although I do wish you were honest with me, I understand you reasons,” You walked towards him and wrapped your arms around him. You felt his body grow stiff and you heard his heartbeat increase a bit. “I forgive you, L” L reciprocated your hug, and thanked you. “I know it’s sudden but, I’d like you to come back to my hotel with me” You gasped. “Huh?! What are you trying to do, L?” “It’s nothing sexual, there are just some people I’d like to introduce you to.” You looked up to see him already staring down at you with his wide grey eyes. Your eyes softened when you met his. “Okay, I’ll go with you.”

While waiting for your shift to end, you and L had began catching each other up on the latest things happening in each other’s life, more so you. Whatever you said, he listened intently. You talked about things at college, work, anything. Before you knew it your shift was over. When you closed down the bakery and locked the doors, L lead you to a black car. Outside, in front of it, there was an old man who looked to be in his late 40s to early 50s. “[name], this is Watari, Watari, this is [name]” Watari smiled at you and you both exchanged greetings. “Ryuzaki talks about you so much, it’s nice to finally meet you.” You looked at L and he had his head turned the other way. Obviously hiding his subtle blush. “Watari, there was no need for that” Watari apologizes while chuckling. “Ryu….zaki?” “Oh yes, for now just call me ryuzaki” He says. You furrow your eyebrows at him, he picks up on your reaction and apologizes and says that he prefers to be called ryuzaki and the reason he didn’t tell you was because he didn’t want to dump too much information onto you. “It’s okay ryuzaki, don’t worry about it” he nods and you both get in the car.

𐫱

When you both arrive to the hotel, he introduces you to the task force. You exchange greetings with everyone and sit down next to ryuzaki. “I’m a little nervous, ryuzaki,” you whisper to ryuzaki. “I feel so…out of place, are you sure you want me here?” L glances over to you. “I apologize if bringing you here is heightening you anxiety levels, but I would like you to be here, you calm me” you feel your face get warm from his compliment. “Do I really? Well then, I’ll stay just for you” you said while smiling. L gives you a small smile of his own. “Thank you.”

Once everyone feels like they’ve progressed enough, everyone starts heading home, you do too. L calls out your name and bids you goodnight. “Goodnight Ryuzaki, get some rest, I’ll see you later.” L watches you leave before going back to his work. He misses you already.

A few weeks after that, L comes by and invites you to join him back at the hotel again. You agree and so he waits for your shift to finish. This time, while L and everyone else had been working on the Kira investigation, you were making L some strawberry cake. When you were done you came out and carefully placed the plate down on the table. He looked up to see you smiling at him. “For you.” He was shocked, but took a bite of the cake. “Did you make this yourself?” He said with a mouthful. “Yes, I did, do you like it?” He nods and thanks you for it. This became your everyday routine when you were with L at the hotel. You would make different types of sweets for him and if he was craving that particular thing, he would be in a noticeably better mood, but if you gave him something he didn’t have a taste for, he would sulk. He’d still thank you of course but he would pick at it even if it was good.

It was just you and L. Everyone else had gone home but he wanted to have a sleepover with. He hesitantly asked you if you would like to stay over then told you that you didn’t have to, but you said you wanted to. The both of you watched movies and ate sweets while working on the investigation. You and him talk about favorite confectioneries. “[name], do you like strawberries?” He asked while peering down at the work in front of him. “Yes, I do” L glances at you before saying: “Strawberries… Despite the name, they aren’t actually berries. How berry disappointing” He hears you chuckle a bit at his silly pun. “That was funny, I like that one” you say while smiling. Silence envelopes you both. The indistinct chatter coming from the TV serving as background noise. “You’re a night owl, [name], that’s funny” you turn your head away from the tv to lock eyes with L. “How ironic, I could say the same about you, Ryuzaki” yet again another beat of silence. It was uncharacteristic for L to talk this much. You didn’t mid of course.

“What do you think of sunsets?” Without looking away from the tv you answered that you like them, and the colors were very beautiful. “You’re pretty talkative tonight, huh ryuzaki?” You tease him with a smirk on your face. “I suppose, I just like talking to you,” he turns to you and makes eye contact with you once again. “Staying up late talking with you makes me feel calm.” You laugh before saying you feel the same. “Talking with you is so easy, talking feels so much more natural when it’s with you” you whisper as to not ruin the quiet atmosphere. He agrees with you.

“I’m grateful to have someone like you in my life, [name]” you turn to him with an incredulous expression. “The day we spend together are very precious to me, you bring me peace,” he says while turning to look at you. “What I need to live is glucose… and to talk to you. Nourishment for my brain and heart…” he hesitates before saying “You understand, don’t you [name]? What my heart so strongly desires is something more…” You heart is racing. You can’t believe that he likes you too. “I feel the same way, ryuzaki” You move to him then lean in more. You’re dangerously close to him. His breath hitches when he feels your lips graze his and he feels like he’s just died when you seal the small gap between you both, with your lips. Humming in satisfaction, he puts his hands on your wait and pulls you closer, deepening the kiss while a smile adorns his face.

“𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫“

reblogs are appreciated!

#l lawliet x reader #l lawliet x black reader #l lawliet x you #death note x black reader #death note x reader #death note x you #kikirites

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