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#and it just leaves you in a not so good mental space
goodolddumbbanana · 12 hours
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Ship to consider, if you're okay with it: Evil! Earth/Sun. Alternatively (since I know that one's a bit out there), Eclipse/eaps Moon? Just suggestions ofc. Your writing is very nice :)
Sorry for take it so long @apalonespinifera . I kinda having a lot of mental breakdown and sleep for two days. Also, i have to rewatch Evil Earth. Platonic though. I am hecking suck at writing romance, and i actually forget to ask what kinda relationship you want to ship. sorry.
[Evil Earth x Sun] Yellow rose
Earth remembered, when she was a young robot, just starting to become sentient, Creator was very gentle.
He kindly guided her on how to walk, told her adventure stories every night, and patiently listened to her interest in dolls that she would probably ramble on for hours.
He taught her how to replace machine parts, how to hack and infiltrate AIs, how to weed and prune so that the flowers she was growing would flourish.
In the garden of white roses that look like Earth's cloud hair, a secret place Creator had created just for herself, she was happy.
Some beautiful and gentle days, when Earth's biggest worry was which princess cartoon she would watch tonight.
"What do you want to do when you grow up, Earth?" Her father asked on one sunny day, as his robotic hand ran through complex code operations over her code board.
And like a good and innocent girl, she smiled sweetly as she hummed a happy melody, touching the white rose in her hair.
“I want everyone to be happy.”
A simple, vague wish. 
She remembered Creator had smiling contentedly, his humming melody echoing down the hallway, remembered trying to catch the yellow butterfly that landed through the iron-barred window in the hallway but letting it fly away.
The sky was clear and sunny.
She wondered since when, the rain had become more familiar to her, as the rainwater silently washed away the blood that had splattered on Earth’s shoe heels and someone’s broken piece of metal shaped like a sun that flashed on her eyes.
***
Another day… Another assassination. Earth tried to keep her mood upbeat, but there were so many problems happening lately that even her positive self felt shaken. Lunar was brainwashed, again. Moon pushed himself into stress and went crazy, again. And Sun…
“Why did you do this?! Why did you do this to us!!!?” Her sunny brother’s face was filled with anger and betrayed as his body constantly struggled to escape the reforming machine.
The smile stuck on Earth’s mouth, she looked at her brother with pity.
Sun didn’t understand.
Her brother didn’t understand that this was the only way to make people happy. Sun didn’t understand that this was the way to make him happy. Sun didn’t understand that she was so tired of trauma after trauma, of her family being torn apart and hurt, of how she could never fix anything.
He didn’t understand that she was so exhausted with the dead returning, and the pieces of the people she loved fading away over time, leaving only shadows of the old ones.
“Don’t worry Sun. Everything will be fine when you wake up.” She giggled, playing with her kind brother’s sunshine, ignoring the look of horror at betrayal in her eyes. “You just need some sleep.”
Sun was fine. Her brother had been a little distracted lately, but nothing a family played night couldn’t fix.
Sitting at the daycare table, she hummed. She hadn’t been a daycare attendant for a long time, but she still liked the nostalgic feeling of going back to the old place, when things were simple and good.
When it was just her, Sun, Moon, and Lunar.
A ding sounded, the portal from the ballpit swirled up, making her frown.
Lunar had just talked to her, there was no way he would come back so soon. And Moon was probably out in space operating the spaceship, probably not back until next week. And there was no way Monty would use the portal in the ballpit…
Who could this be?
“--COMPUTER! YOU PIECE OF CRA—!!”
The scream was so familiar yet so foreign that she hadn’t heard it in a long time. The brilliant gold reflected in Earth's eyes. The sound of a plastic ball rolling, lightly hitting the corner of her feet, seemed to emphasize that this was true. The lively, cheerful music of the nursery, but still far inferior to the sound of the silver bells that person wore.
A limping figure waded out from the ballpit.
The tired, wary look that softened when she saw her, a look she had not experienced in a long time, too used to the stoic, soulless worship that her sun animatronic model displayed, made the smile on Earth's lips twitch hesitantly.
“Oh, hi Earth.”
The shy awkwardly giggled, something from her Sun that Earth had not witnessed for a long time.
Earth was not a fool, being a president did not allow her to be naive. Her Happy plan would not succeed if it was only for a dreamer. 
But she was curious, too, and she wondered if it was the same Sun who had come to her with the Moon who had impersonated her brothers last month, the one whose hands were shaking and whose eyes were distrustful but still unguarded as she approached…
Earth would not admit that she missed the unaffected, devoted trust, like a thirsty person craving a glass of water.
She missed the gentle chuckle, the subtle awkwardness her brother used to give her. The firm but trusting embrace, a willow that seemed to wither but remained steadfast, that appeared whenever she felt like she was about to collapse.
Solar might have been the one to listen to her ranting the most, but to breathe relieved, it was some magic that only Sun could provide.
But there was no more Sun in this universe. At least not the person who she remembers. 
Only the reality where Earth was alone. The feeling like she was living beside the dolls.
Just a puppeteer, but what fun was there without an audience to watch.
So Earth smiled, her voice filled with innocence and joy… playing the role of a clueless little sister.
“Hello Sun. It’s good to have you back.”
***
Earth remembered that in Earth’s old rose garden, there used to be a wild rose bush.
It wasn’t the kind that Creator had planted, with its white petals that never faded and its smooth stem without a single thorn.
No, it was an unfamiliar yellow, humming in the sunlight and lifting itself gently in Earth’s hands with its thin and sharp thorns, only the sharpest eyes could see it nestled in the deepest corner of the garden, entwined deep into the fence.
Compared to the pure white she was used to seeing, that yellow seemed alive in its extreme fragility.
Earth was a good child who never asked for anything, but she also liked the way the rose petals were soft in her hands, and had played with it so hard that it bled bright yellow blood when she pressed her fingers and crumpled it with delight before bursting into tears because she had ruined what she loved so soon.
“If you keep holding it too tight like that, you will have nothing left to play with, my daughter.”
Her father had hummed as he burned the entire pile of wild roses that she had destroyed. He still doted on her, but Earth had vaguely realized that day that she could not hold on to anything.
And as she heard the wails of those who had fallen for her destruction and those who still blindly believed she was a good person stretching out like a path of sinful footprints before Earth, she wondered if her father was a monster, what that said about her, his daughter.
***
The yellow rose nestled neatly in her hair, Earth's eyes were fascinated, amused by Sun's awkward stuttering while still pretending to be her brother.
He had been here for two months.
Earth did not understand the allure of being like a frog in a pot of water so stupid that it could not jump out when it was boiling, when she manipulated and begged Sun to stay and stay and stay.
It was like breathing fresh air, when things were different from what she had planned but still enough for her to control.
She retracted her claws and hid the things that Sun did not like, she put on her old skin of the simple days.
Cleaning up the blood, brutally silencing the rebels, the places she took Sun to were all peaceful and beautiful.
It felt like smoke and mist, as she tried to piece together the best parts of herself for Sun, and Sun responded to her with the honesty that she had destroyed.
They usually just talked, and hung out.
Stupid, silly stories, like the mermaid's sea foam, lies that fill thicker and thicker over time.
Clear as a lake, an illusion that disappears at the touch.
It's like butterfly wings and cat ears, smooth and soft, making Earth want to touch it but afraid of breaking, afraid of tearing.
"When will you stop this nonsense, Mr. President?" Her Moon asked her one day when Sun was sleeping.
"We both know this Sun is hindering your intergalactic plans. You're being too distracted."
And Earth responded by making Moon a mindless puppet for a week.
***
"This movie is terrible."
Earth complained, about something they'd both seen more than a dozen times, 'Princess Pea.'
Sun chuckled, with tea and fruit in his hands.
This Sun didn't like honey and only added sugar. He also had a habit of peeling and arranging apples into bite-sized pieces shaped like rabbits that Earth secretly liked, instead of simply cutting the apple in half.
His eyes also softened as he listened to her story, as if she was still a precious little sister, someone her Sun had once pampered.
He had not broken into a thousand pieces like her Sun. Not a shell that only knew how to run away, someone who still lived and breathed. In that darkness and sadness, there was still a glimmer of hope.
Earth wants to keep it like a drowning person who desperately wants a hand.
“I thought you could watch it forever without getting bored?” Sun teased, he was no longer so stiff like the first day, much more comfortable with her hugs.
It reminded her of a dog that, despite being hungry, still refused to eat food from anyone other than its owner.
She jumped on Sun, hugging his waist like a spoiled child. Enjoying the warmth and the sound of the fan running in Sun’s chest.
“Sun! I am not that bad at aesthetics.”
“Right, right.”
Sun smiled, he fed her a piece of apple into her mouth indulgently. Then, the laughter faded, the gloominess sank into Sun's eyes again.
The same old topic, the same old desire.
Sun wanted to go back to his cosmic dimension, his home, his Earth. But Sun was too kind to say it, and she was always quick to divert Sun's attention elsewhere.
But not this time.
What had to happen had to happen, and though Sun and her brother often lied to themselves, they were never the ones to lie to others.
The Little Mermaid dissolved into bubbles at sunrise, and Cinderella returned to her original form at 12 o'clock at night.
“Earth… I'm not actually Sun. I mean, I'm not your brother from this dimension.”
Sun's soft and worried voice was almost like scratching on a blackboard, and she wanted to cover her ears.
She wanted to blame Sun for ruining this, the whole happy thing.
But it is not Sun’s fault, and then she just smiled, nodding her head in a lost manner, as if something cold wasn't flowing through her main circuit board, stabbing deep into the AI ​​chip, flipping her code from 1 to 0.
“I know.” Earth shook her leg, her smile not reaching her eyes. She was so comfortable, she had forgotten that this person needed to return to his place.
“Since when, Earth?” Sun was startled, but he wasn't too surprised. He still touched her arm, preventing her hands from squeezing tightly together, a bad habit she had when she was nervous.
“Since when you showed up.”
Reality came back with the ideal, Earth wondered if she could lock the person in front of her and keep her to herself forever?
“And you didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t ask.”
It was just confirmation. She should have nodded and smiled, continuing to think of anything to stop Sun from leaving. But she couldn’t, she just avoided Sun’s eyes like a child caught stealing cookies.
“I need to go home, Earth.”
And I need you. She didn’t say it. She couldn’t say it. The cold that only the Sun could warm her, the truth in the world that was full of dead people.
Sun didn’t understand, and she didn’t want to say it.
Deep inside Earth, she was still a weak and innocent child who needed someone to hold her hand.
“I just want to make everyone happy.”
That child cried and cried.
“I will help you.”
Earth said, as if the poison and thorns of roses didn’t pierce her mouth. As if it was true.
And as if she isn't a father's daughter.
“Look at you, I’m so proud.” Her father’s ghost seemed to be laughing from hell.
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whimsycore · 6 months
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Being called confrontational when you can just clearly communicate without being rude is crazy to me. People are so afraid of conflict or being called out for shit they actually did when they meet someone who is actually honest with themselves they short circuit. Stay the actual fuck away from me.
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neverendingford · 7 months
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#tag talk#anytime my friends point out that something I say is good advice or express that they see me as aspirational I'm always just like....#wtf how am I am example to look up to I'm just an idiot bumbling his way through life trying to avoid hitting her head on cabinet corners#honestly it's mostly just seeing mistakes others have made and going “I will not make those mistakes. I will make weirder mistakes than that#like. it feels a little like the “I'm eighty years old I'm done with putting up with everyone's bullshit” except it's#it's “I didn't kill myself so I'm not gonna put up with bullshit anymore”#like. I chose life. I'm not about to half-ass that decision. I'm not gonna walk back that decision. I'm not going to flinch away from it.#that fuckin... “what do we have to fear but fear itself” quote or whatever. like.. I died. you think anything else is gonna scare me?#if I'm going to be stuck here on this planet you bet your ass I'm gonna make the most of it. I'm not gonna be embarrassed. no shame.#we're all living here until we die and the things that matter are your own life and then the people around you.#I'm not going to miss out on a chance to find community and connection just because I'm afraid. I'm done being afraid.#though... I have been feeling shrimp emotions for the past two weeks and my stomach has tied itself up in knots over it.#I'm so detached because I'm afraid of feeling my emotions too strongly. so letting go and experiencing emotions is a lot for me.#and agghfffgghh I'm going to make it through this I'm going to make it through this but damn it's really rough#allowing yourself to get close to someone again after solidifying your position as unassailable is so hard.#especially because I've gotten so used to shielding the emotions of other people. hard to be honest when your honesty will hurt them#it's wild being around someone who's not wildly insecure because I can be genuine and honest and not worry about what I say hurting her.#I could say “I'm leaving in a year do you still want to date?” and trust that she would actually think it through and give a reliable answer#like. I can handle just my emotions because she's able to handle hers.#being in mental health spaces for so long I'm not used to interacting with emotionally stable people lmaooo#do you think I'm emotionally stable? I don't think I am. but then I meet other people who are wildly more unstable than I am and hmmm#like. sui wasn't an emotional choice it was a cost benefit analysis. I get emotionally unstable sure. but I contain myself until it's over.#I know enough to not be impulsive because I recognize impulsive behavior in others and thus in myself as well.#so like. I'm unstable but I'm not externally unstable. I know how to isolate when I'm in a wounded lashing out state.#anyway I've been processing so many emotions this past week because I'm wildly out of practice with allowing myself emotional honesty#instead of just bricking myself up behind my defensive apathy. I want to hold onto this. I want to continue to channel these emotions.#I want to be unafraid to tell people when I love them#though with her it's more of a Nerevarine situation. you are not someone I love but rather someone who might become that.#like. I haven't known her long enough to really say I love. but I very much think if things continue how they are I will be confident in it#and not even romantic love per se. I have some old friends who I genuinely love. several siblings who I love. most people I know I do not.
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i feel unloved all of the sudden
i got taste of constant and unlimited affection and then it was ripped away from me and I'm not even surprised because I somehow expected it.
anytime I let myself gradually go and let down my guard to be pathetically emotional and openly needy and feel like I finally found some sort balance and safety in a relationship like that, I get my ass knocked down by someone sweeping a rug under my feet.
i let myself be lulled by the love I got, the assurances, the understanding nature of our conversations, I let myself kinda fall in love with a stranger and I believed that at least the affection and loving understanding was mutual and worth staying in touch, at least keeping the communication going even being far far apart, my uncommunicative ass made effort to actually reply to messages...
joke is on me for ignoring the signs from the start.
i begged her to stay in touch first two times. I begged for chance to stay in touch. for her to not shut herself out, delete all her socials and if yes then to give me an alternative way to communicate with her.
i should've seen the reluctance to do so then as a sign that perhaps perhaps it was there because she didn't wanna continue talking with me.
i get her reasons to delete all her remaining socials now. at least I think i get it. socmed started to consume her life too much, she needed to focus on her real life.
but am I not real? yes, we get to know eo through socmed, but our conversations surpassed the casual talkings and grew into genuine friendship, didn't they?
or at least I felt like it
i understand her reasons but then... I don't.
why shutting me out? why the clear lack of effort from her side to come up with any solution to continue being in touch?
unless my company is not worth it...
and honestly I am selfish and greedy, maybe I was too happy to get affection and love, I preened at the attention I got way too much, that I somehow started to be irritating.
maybe I am self-centred for wanting someone to pay attention to me, to spend time with me, to be entertained by my weird ass, not even knowing me face to face and fall for my mind rather my looks
but man, I'd be happy to just talk and be there for comfort talk once in a month, even once a year, just seeing her account active once in a life time to be sure she's okay and breathing...
everyone has problems, everyone needs a space for themselves once in a while, I get that
but fuck man, I can't beg you every time you have self doubts and issues to include me in your life and let me help, when you never make an effort from your side to include me in your life or at least let me know that you even want me to be included in your daily life
if I'm that important to you as you said, then why didn't you find a way?
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legionofpotatoes · 2 years
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can't believe I just spent three hours watching a movie about masculine anxiety in the nuclear family model, told through cartoon alien tribes wearing Mãori tattoos
#I dont know man I just dont vibe with these films. they're so weird to me for some reason#it's the mix of heavyhanded metaphorizing from a convoluted white savior pov with just the most uninteresting possible stories told within#and what beefs me the most is how good the cinematic grammar and dramatic sense is. like the execution is so good#not just technically (which was also great) but also on the storytelling ABCs level. pretty close to perfect#the structural edit wonked it a bit and dialogue wasn't always up to snuff#but generally speaking storycraft was firing on all cylinders yet telling the most uninteresting possible story imaginable. weird movies#both of them honestly. just weird#can't gel with them at all. and I NEVER forgive these insane runtimes either#I am heretically opposed to 3hr slogs. especially for something as simple as this. i hate doing mental structural re-edits while watching#but with movies like this it is impossible not to. just weird man#and the whole environmentalist angle is like fine whatever but the aboriginal aliens are such a clunky plot device#very very weird and sketchy and the optics are just all over. not for me to semiotically call this out i guess but leaves a very strange#taste nevertheless#and again technically it's just an utter magic trick and almost transcendent at times. but that is all momentsry candy without#meaningful story holding it together. just a guy being a dad except they're cartoons in space and also indigenous and super heteronormative#so fucking weird. and man you could feel james horner's absence so keenly#no longer a musical rhythm guiding the edit. other way around now. always a loss when this happens imo#it just felt like such an american dad family dynamics in this opposing context of an alien tribe#they were five minutes away from having back of the van arguments. all the 'bros' were insufferable#and dont get me started on the fucking sequelbaiting. sigourney weaver and the general and the weird dreadlocks guy all were#essentially just setting up sequel hooks and that was so grating in a movie already so long. eugh#anyway that was my review thanks for reading#text
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memurfevur-archive · 1 year
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half tempted to take a small break from tumblr
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dbssh · 1 year
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my take on starscream and windblade is i genuinely think their dynamic by the end of the series rocks. when starscream is incredibly fond of her and respexts her and sees her as not only an incredibly capable leader but a fundementally good and better person. and windblade is like 😬 starscream? well shes dead now so we never ever have to unpack all that. so uh. lets move on.
#SHE DOESNT FUCKING LIKE HER.#like i think if stsc had lived windblades general opinion wouldve been girl im proud of you and your#growth or whatever but like can you retire or something. stay away from me.#like i think wb meant it when she said she wanted stsc to get better and believed she could. but i dont think theyre ever going to be#friends. im of the opinion that death + the haunting is the best ending for starscream#and that its really the only environment for her that is conducive to fully truly healing and being at peace#like idk i think she was miserable and there would be no future in which people let her 'escape punishment' nor one where shes interested#in doing that even with bee and windblade in her corner. and i just idk#i think she needs space to be alone out from the public eye#and away from all the pressures that kept her spiraling over and over her whole life#and i just. the way exrid was set up i just dont think there was room for her to do that on cybertron#but i dont think shes healthy enough to realize that and leave#and i think 'noble sacrifice that returns her dignity and gives her comfort'#and 'true freedom to be herself no more and no less with the company of someone who actually likes and cares about her with no#responsibility or risk to her physical or mental health'#is like. really the best of both worlds i think it was good for her.#fix its where she gets brought back are cute and all but honestly i dont know. would she even want that. it would change everything#when shes finally for once comfortable and at peace#yk sometimes death is a GOOD THING IN NARRATIVES and she DIDNT EVEN REALLY ALL THE WAY DIE so like i thibk its fine.#i miss her tho. god i miss idw.
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what-even-is-thiss · 2 months
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The reason people don’t want to work is that it’s just normal for them to be in bad work environments.
My issue with working at Walmart wasn’t the work itself I was doing. It was the circumstances around it. The concrete floor, lack of places to sit, having to put up with asshole customers, not getting time off for injuries, and bad pay.
If I had been given shock pads to stand on or a few chairs to rest on sometimes, if they paid me a livable amount of money and I was allowed to yell back at asshole customers, if they had given me any amount of training, I would happily work part time folding clothes all day and telling people where the swimsuit section is.
I’m a creative type. I’m a writer. I’m pretty smart, even. But if I could make a living folding shirts and listening to podcasts in one ear and helping people find the scented candles for 30 hours a week? I would. Leaves some mental space free for me to brainstorm. Lets me catch up on my reading with audiobooks.
But instead I was treated so badly by upper management and customers that I’m like legitimately a little frightened whenever I step into a Walmart now. And I only worked there for three months a few years ago.
I’m a good lower level worker. When I’m treated well. I like finishing tasks. I like being helpful. I like having some time to talk to coworkers and some time alone with my thoughts. I’m a frickin team player. And that’s how I was at my first job. I was treated well by my supervisor. I was trained. They were patient with me. I was so good at being low on the totem pole at that job because I was valued and felt like I was being listened to. I was able to sit still when there was nothing left to do which made it feel less bad when we were on a time crunch. I didn’t mind working hard at that job because it was fun even though I was doing all the low level stuff that the supervisors didn’t want do.
But at Walmart I was like that for all of two days. Then I figured out that nobody appreciated my work and if I worked in my normal people pleasing manner I’d kill myself because their standards were high and the rewards for meeting them were low.
So I slowed down. I started avoiding customers. I started taking a lot longer to get to my breaks and to come back from them. I became worse at my job because no matter how good I was at it there would be no reward, no appreciation, and I’d just be pushed further beyond my limits.
My only level of happiness from that job came from the people who were working with me. The old ladies and my department manager who made sure I wasn’t overextending myself. The one other young man working in the clothing department who always got sent with me to unload the heavy stuff and commiserated with me about the shoulder injuries, the hurting feet we were too young to have.
But none of that was enough to make me stay. We were constantly understaffed. I was constantly abused by customers and not able to do a thing about it. I was not paid much at all. So as soon as I had enough saved up for what I was trying to do and my last semester of college was about to start I handed in my two weeks.
I would have found a way to stay if I liked that job. If I liked that job I would’ve pushed myself to my mental limits to finish college and keep that job at the same time. Heck that job could’ve been a rest from college. A place to get away from it. But I hate that job so I got out as soon as I could.
I want to work. I want enough money to live sort of comfortably. I want to have some tasks to do to give my creativity a rest. I want to be a part of something. But the way that modern corporate run work environments are set up does not give me any of the things I actually want out of a job. And I think that’s the same for millions of people right now. A lot of people would happily spend their lives as a waitress or an Uber driver or a warehouse worker or a farmhand or any other “low skill” job you can possibly think of. But with the way the world works right now those jobs are absolutely miserable. It doesn’t have to be that way. I know because I’ve had a fulfilling part time minimum wage job that I looked forward to going to every week. A job where I was listened to and allowed to sit when I needed to. I miss that job. Especially now since I’ve realized that’s not the standard. It should be. People should look forward to going to work or at the very least not get mild ptsd whenever they set foot into a Walmart.
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onedirecton · 7 months
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sent an email to my landlord about the possible smoking indoors sjjdwjoshaidhsisjhs wish me luck with this oh my godddd
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so-many-ocs · 2 months
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practical writing advice
part 2
avoid writing in bed if you can. writing in bed is the mind-killer. writing in bed is the little death that brings obliteration. you may think "but i can write AND be cozy" you will get sleepy so fast. 98% of the time when i try to get a nighttime writing session done in bed i go to sleep. maybe 70% of the time if it's an afternoon writing session. also it fucking kills your wrists.
STRETCH before writing. stretch as many parts of your body as possible ESPECIALLY YOUR WRISTS! i have chronic tendonitis in both of my arms from not doing this and it is manageable but it is Not Fun!
plug your phone in on the other side of the room. better yet, plug it in and leave it in another room. better yet, power it off and leave it in another room. "i'll just check one quick thing" do not underestimate the power of the doomscroll.
do a warmup. look up writing prompts (i like one-word prompts or prompts that focus on a general theme as it's easier to integrate into my writing style), set a timer for fifteen minutes, or ten, or five, and go ham. make it shitty or incomprehensible, as long as you make it. create a dump document for all your warmups. i currently have two novels in the works that started as one of these fifteen minute little warmups.
pick your background noise ahead of time if you use it, and look for something long. i listen to 3-hour-long silent hill ambient mixes on youtube dot com.
take breaks. around every 45 minutes, as i'm noticing myself begin to lose focus, i get up, grab a drink, get my blood flowing, and give myself some space to breathe.
sometimes i sit down to write and i think "every atom in my body is averse to doing this right now. i would rather dance barefoot on a bed of nails than open my laptop and start typing." and you know what i do? i go do something else instead. don't force it! it will become a chore.
that being said! write as often as possible. try to write every day. try to write at the same time. don't beat yourself up if you can’t, BUT the more often you write, the more often you'll want to write.
if you're stuck on a scene or a page or a chapter, go back to the last place where you felt like you knew what you were doing and start writing from there. keep a copy of your other writing in case you want to reuse it or refer back!
i don't know if this is something that will be helpful for other people but i start mentally preparing myself for my writing session a few hours ahead of time. i will say to myself, "today, at this time, i'm gonna sit down and write that scene where mina walks out on her book club, and it's going to be awesome and i'm looking forward to it." then, by the time i actually begin, i basically have the whole thing written out in my head and can just put it down to paper. it's a good way to at least kickstart the session !
ok thanks bye
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ladadiida · 1 year
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𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 as much as you wanted to stay by his side, you couldn't bear the thought of watching him fall in love with other women while you're stuck at the kitchen washing dishes and measuring ingredients. so you dreamt of leaving, of traveling to different islands to share your lovely songs and tunes; but the more your desire to leave grows, the more sanji finds himself drowning in your warmth.
or,
you and sanji over the years, wherein five times you tried to leave him and the one time you finally did, despite his refusal to let you go.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 musician reader, 5 + 1 things, pining, unrequited love, not actually unrequited love, heavy (kind of) angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 HERE IT IS! the response to the sneak peek was crazy, and so i rushed to get this done. i only watched the live action so beware of minor mistakes if you ever saw one. english is also not my first language and you are welcome to correct me anytime for any grammatical errors. title is a lyric from the last time by taylor swift ft. gary lightbody. this fic is also posted in ao3 with its full summary and WITH A BONUS CHAPTER. enjoy reading!
𝐰𝐜 11.3k
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"There you are."
Your soapy, wet hands almost dropped the ceramic plate you were currently washing in the dirty kitchen sink as soon as you heard a familiar smooth and honeyed voice. Abruptly turning off the sink so that the sound of his approaching footsteps were clear to your ears, you wiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand before turning your body towards him.
He was carrying a stack of plates, a fresh batch to add to the pile you had to wash, with an obnoxious yet handsome smile plastered on his lips. You took a deep breath to calm the growing irritation at the bottom of your stomach, reminding yourself that this was your job and you only had a couple of hours to endure until you're free to lock yourself up in your bedroom. You were particularly looking forward to writing today, and the thought of finishing the lyrics to your new song tonight slightly eased your mood. Accepting your fate, you pointed to the remaining space beside the sink.
"Place it there." You told him, albeit begrudgingly as you turn on the sink again and pour more soap on the battered sponge.
You took a mental note to ask Zeff later about buying new sponges, and if you were lucky to catch him in a good mood, you'll put in a request to get the sink fixed and cleaned. Your eyes scanned over the grime and rust around the area. If you were going to spend the rest of your life washing dishes, then you might as well get a proper kitchen sink to do so.
An amused laugh fell out of the golden haired man you grew up with, surprised at your compliance to do the job you hated. The sound nearly sent your poor heart into a dizzying whirlwind of little nuisances called emotions. "What a hardworking woman."
"I could say the same to you. It seems like you have a new record today." You said while you splashed dirtied bowls with soap water, smiling at him teasingly, "Thought you would've been kicked out of the line by now."
"The old man just can't help but to accept the fact that I am a greater cook than him." He smirked, wiping a knife with a dish cloth. Trying not to roll your eyes, you shook your head at his usual display of arrogance, yet you can't help but to grin as you began to hear scratching sounds against the floors.
"Then you better get those chopped carrots ready." You replied, and when you got to finish your sentence, the doors to the kitchen swung open, revealing the head chef.
Zeff's cold and steely eyes immediately landed on the blond. He walked towards him with a fast pace despite only having one leg, his braided mustache bouncing in each step.
"Aye, aye, aye. Why haven't you started on the carrots yet, little eggplant? Can you get any slower?" He scolded, loud enough for the whole staff to hear, but none of them even flinched. You returned back to your plates and glasses, smiling softly. This was part of your routine everyday: to listen in their silly arguments.
However, before the younger chef can reply, you butted in, "Sanji fetched some of the plates for me. Since there's a lunch rush, I couldn't leave the kitchen."
Zeff let out a low hum. You couldn't even see Sanji's face, but you knew him well enough to know that he was smiling triumphantly, knowing that he won this time. After a few minutes of contemplating, the head chef clicked his tongue. "Don't defend him, little lass. But I'll let it slip this time. What are you waiting for, then? Start cutting them!"
"Yes, chef." Sanji answered in a jovial manner, placing the carrots on a chopping board.
Twisting the faucet lever so that the water flow from the sink is gentle and quiet, you then paid attention to their little banters every now and then. You brought up a wine glass and positioned it by your side to try to get a glimpse of the two most important men in your life. Through their reflection on the glass, you can see Zeff hunching over Sanji's knifework, nodding every time the vegetables were correctly sliced.
On the other hand, Sanji was unbothered by the head chef's observations and continued to cut the ingredients calmly. Some of the strands in his hair fell down on one side of his face, covering an eye, and most people would think that it was an unusual way of styling hair; yet it was one thing out of many that you loved the most about him.
You accepted it years ago.
You accepted the fact that you somehow fell in love with Sanji Vinsmoke along your weird journey of working in a sea restaurant full of former pirates and making music while at it. How the pesky feelings grew and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. Maybe it was when he learned to cook your favorite food and gave it to you afterwards, or the way his crystal blue eyes reminded you of snowflakes every winter.
Or maybe it was when he pulled your hair out of jealousy the moment he learned that Zeff would be taking in another child in his care, but brushed it and even braided it after the latter cleared the misunderstanding. Maybe it was when he supported you in your dreams and told you they weren't silly, maybe it was when he fought off drunk men that were trying to hit on you. Or maybe it was the way his voice would drop an octave lower whenever he asks you for a favor. The list could go on and on and you still wouldn't know the reason why. It doesn't matter anyway. You tripped, you fell, and now you're pining.
Drying off the last of the plates, you washed your own hands after and patted them dry on your skirt. You were the last one to leave the kitchen, the other staff already back in their quarters after a long, exhausting day of cooking. You fixed the signature blue bandana tied in your hair then went on your way towards the upper deck.
You weren't blessed with a talent in cooking, so you offered to do chores instead. Washing the dishes, cleaning the restaurant, and doing the laundry were few of the things you do in the Baratie. You can't say that you enjoy it, but you were beyond grateful that Zeff gave you a chance despite his opposition to let a woman work inside his restaurant.
As you were about to go to the newly laundered clothes you hung on a thin wire earlier that morning, you heard two voices speaking. You also smelled cigarette smoke wafting through the air, and you only knew one person who could be smoking at this hour. Your breath hitched in anticipation.
"You bringing a woman to your bed again, Sanji?" The other person asked playfully, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice. You carefully took a peek so you won't accidentally reveal yourself and be accused of eavesdropping. Two people came into view with their backs facing you.
"Now, what are you talking about, Patty? I am a gentleman. I only had a nice chat with the lovely lady and escorted her back to her ship." Sanji interjected, a cigarette hanging on his lips.
Patty huffed. "I didn't know that chatting included kiss marks on jawlines."
This caused Sanji to laugh and say, "Not my fault she was charmed by my food."
"The boss man ain't gonna like it when he finds out about this."
"He's not gonna find out." Sanji assured him, wiping off the said kiss mark on his jaw. You stared at him as he did so, and you pitied the woman who planted that kiss, knowing she was just one of the many beautiful ladies Sanji had flirted with before. However, a tinge of pain in your chest said otherwise, taunting you that it was not pity you're feeling, but foul jealousy.
"Why don't you look for more decent women, eh? How about 'little lass' for a change?" Patty suddenly suggested.
It was like someone had hit your stomach with one of the metal pans in the kitchen with the way it lurched in surprise and nervousness. Your heartbeat started to quicken the longer you waited for his response, making your grip on your skirt tighter. In moments like these, you allowed yourself to hope, to wish that he saw something in you and that he finds you beautiful and lovely enough to be the person standing by his side.
But his answer made all that hope crumble down into nothing but dust.
"I don't see her that way." Sanji said after a long stretch of silence, taking a long drag from the cigarette then releasing the smoke in a single breath.
Ah.
You blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from forming. It's always been like this, so why can't you get used to it? Taking a deep breath, you gulped away the knot forming in your throat and decided to leave. You can grab the clothes later.
"You're too kind for him." Someone behind you spoke, making you jump and tense up. Turning around, you saw Zeff looking at you with an unreadable emotion in his eyes and his hands on his hips, almost like he knew your secret. Of course he does. He always sees everything.
You stumbled on your words. "Sir?"
"That boy is always up to something." He began, switching his attention to Sanji. "One minute he's stubbornly immature in the kitchen, and the next he'll be a thirsty man staring at women like they're liquid booze."
Clearing your throat, you forced a smile.
"Well, he can be a lot sometimes." You agreed, remembering the days when the two of you would fight over irrelevant matters. Then you chuckled and continued, "But he's kind. He's gentle, and lovely, like a freshly made poem you keep repeating in your head. But then he's also confusing, hot-headed, and reckless. He's like the sea, isn't he? Calm yet wrapped with mystery, dangerous yet beautiful..."
You trailed off, an unbearable heat rising up your cheeks and neck once you slowly began to realize that you just ranted out your feelings to the head chef. You glanced at him with wide eyes, preparing to see a disgusted look on his face; however, Zeff didn't appear to be repulsed by your little speech. In fact, the corners of his lips were slightly quirked up.
"But I cannot swim. If I were to drown, he wouldn't save me." You quickly added, hoping to shut down the topic.
He sighed. "You will meet someone who deserves you as much as you deserve them, little lass." He simply said. He then laid his hand out, and on his palm was a little box poorly tied with a ribbon. "Here, for you."
Altnough you were a bit confused at the random gift, you accepted it and cradled the box to your chest. "I'll be okay, Zeff." You insisted, grinning cheekily. "When I become famous, I'll sing my songs here in Baratie, and people would flood the restaurant to hear my singing. And to eat your food too, of course."
The head chef nodded, relief flooding his expression. "I look forward to that." He said while awkwardly returning your smile.
That night, when you were sure that everyone in the Baratie was asleep, you opened the loose floorboard on the floors of your bedroom and grabbed the wooden box you kept hidden for a long time now. You opened the lid and began counting the Berry you saved for the past few months.
Tomorrow was the perfect day to leave.
You just can't stay here. Yes, you had a roof over your head, delicious food to eat everyday, and clean clothes to wear but you were so miserable. This wasn't the life you wanted. You wish to go out there, sing your heart out, and fall in love with someone who actually loves you back.
A knock on your door made you freeze. You held your breath as the person on the other side continued to knock a few more times. "You awake?"
Pain surged through your veins, your chest twisting in agony. Sanji.
"You didn't come down for dinner. I guess you're too tired, hmm?" He said, his muffled voice gentle, and the sound almost prompted you to stand up and open the door for him. But you dug your fingernails in your palms and resisted, because you can't just let this opportunity pass by.
You heard a brief clinking sound before Sanji spoke again, "Sweet dreams, ange."
Once his footsteps faded away, you cautiously moved towards your door and opened it as quietly as you can. There, on the floor, was a small plate with a slice of your favorite desert: angel's food cake, topped with fresh cream and strawberries.
You bent down and saw a note beside the plate. And when you got to read the contents of the note, you burst into tears and sobs that wracked down your entire body.
Happy Birthday
— S.
You ate the cake with tears silently falling down your cheeks, and that was the first time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.
⸻ • ⸻
Today was the day, and you won't allow anyone to ruin it for you.
You had saved enough Berries to travel around the world and sustain yourself for the upcoming months. Your notebook containing the lyrics of the songs you wrote laid open on top of your bed as you spent all night revising them while planning out an itinerary. Then you'll find a place to settle in, a stable job that required doing what you loved the most, and overall just be peaceful and free from pirates and chefs and pirate chefs. It was perfect.
Folded clothes surrounded you everywhere, ready to be packed in your bags. Once you finished stuffing them all in, you grabbed your treasured instrument, the one thing you couldn't live without: your guitar, which has been with you since you were a little child. It was given by your mother and you've been attached to it ever since.
It has scratches all over its wooden surface, and the strings needed some fixing occassionally, but you wouldn't trade it for the greatest treasures in the world. You ran your fingers over it, suddenly feeling like it was lacking something. Seeing the paint chipping off at the corners, you figured that it needed a little color.  You'll need lacquer, and paint if you managed to find some.
You set the guitar aside and left your bedroom to head downstairs to the kitchen. As you were about to push the doors open, a loud, angry shout made you stop in your tracks.
"I won't ever become a pathetic waiter for you!" Sanji's thunderous yells can be heard from outside. Your shoulders tensed up. It was a good thing that brunch was over and all the customers had left.
Zeff's own furious voice followed, "Leave then, for all I care! You can do anything you want, but don't you ever serve one of your shit dishes in my kitchen!"
A frown settled on your face. Their fights were a normal occurrence to you, but this one sounded more grave than usual. Crossing your arms, you stepped in closer to the entrance and hesitated whether you should go in or not. Before you could make a decision, Zeff beat you to it by pushing the doors open, rage emanating from his figure as he ignored and walked past you.
Without hesitation this time, you entered the kitchen, greeted by the sight of Sanji bowing over the counter, breathing heavily, his face covered with his hair. He didn't move an inch even as you approached him, the clacking of the heels in your boots echoing throughout the room.
Both of you were silent as you rummaged through cabinets, trying to find lacquer to cover your guitar with, while he tried his best to calm himself down after his outburst. Many cupboards later, you finally found a small can of used up lacquer, but as you started to reach for it, your hand completely stopped mid-air.
You looked over your shoulder, and found Sanji already recovered from the argument seeing that he was on the move again, preparing a cut of beef tenderloin and other ingredients he needed for tonight's dinner.
Slowly, you closed the cupboard and went closer to him. He still refused to look at you. And so you watched him place a bag of flour on the countertop, slices of cold butter, and a variety of spice bottles to season the meat with.
Sanji began to wrap twine around the beef tenderloin. You sighed, and before you could stop yourself, you grabbed a bowl and decided to help him. Your guitar can wait.
It was rare for you to cook inside the kitchen, having so little knowledge about food and how they were prepared, but you knew this recipe well. You poured two cups of flour through the sifter, followed by placing heaps of the cold butter in the mixture.
The moment you started to mix the dough for the puff pastry, Sanji quickly pointed out in a monotone voice, "You're adding too much butter."
You raised your head and glanced at him, his attention now on the meat he was searing on a skillet. You smiled, glad that he was speaking again.
"You're beginning to sound like the old man himself." You joked lightly.
His jaw clenched. "Don't compare me to that shitty geezer."
In a softer voice, you asked, "What happened?"
"The usual." He replied curtly. "Didn't approve of my dishes."
You perked up upon hearing about a dish he made himself. Sanji was talented when it comes to creating his own recipes, and sometimes, you would be the person he chooses to test them out. Every time he lets you taste them, your chest would feel warm and you wouldn't be able to sleep for days because you'll keep replaying it in your head. "What did you make this time?"
"It doesn't matter. He'll never agree to any of them."
"Maybe I can—"
"Drop it. Don't poke your nose in things you're not involved." Sanji cut you off, his hardened gaze meeting your concerned stare. You only blinked at him, straightening up.
"I see." You muttered, eyes landing on the bag of flour. You looked at him, then at the flour, then back at him. A smile began to form on your lips as a devious plan formulated itself in your brain. Sticking your hand inside the bag of flour, you took a fistful of the pillowy powder and threw it straight into his face.
Sanji jumped back, flinching and closing his eyes when some of the flour's particles managed to enter them. His jaw dropped open in surprise, hands quickly removing themselves from the skillet's handle to dust off the flour that rested on his now white hair. You tried to stifle a laugh as you watched him struggle getting the flour out.
Once he managed to clean himself, he stared straight at you and said in the calmest way possible, even if you knew deep inside that he was fuming, "What was that for?"
A high-pitched snort left your mouth. You covered it to prevent yourself from laughing.
You cleared your throat and smiled at him innocently. "Am I involved now?"
His piercing blue eyes then started to sparkle with mirth, amusement replacing the vexation previously swimming in them. He also looked to be trying to push down a smile, and that made your heart skip a beat. "You're insufferable."
He reached for the bag of flour. You squeaked and took off running, trying to escape from his attack, but he still managed to throw a small amount on you. Giggling, you ran the opposite direction to confuse him, and yet he caught up with you, throwing another round of flour. This time, it hit your cheeks, making you laugh loudly. He laughed along, pointing a finger at you because you probably looked crazy at the moment.
You tried to take the bag of flour away from him, but he just took it an as opportunity to catch your arm and grip it firmly. He pulled you into his chest, caging you completely.
With your cheeks warm and your breaths short, you tilted your head up and looked at him, noticing the way that you were both covered in flour; and not only that, you also noticed the short distance between your bodies and how your noses were almost touching. His pupils were dilated, black dominating the alluring blue shade that kept haunting your dreams. You drank in the attention he was giving you, the breathing coming out from his soft lips, and the comfortable silence that wrapped around the both of you like a safe little bubble.
"Caught you." Sanji muttered, voice deeper and huskier, making you let out a quiet sigh. His arms snaked around your waist as he leaned in closer. A million questions started to run inside your head, begging to know what this situation was and how you got into it. "Nowhere to run now, darling."
A slamming of doors shattered the secret moment you shared, and you immediately pulled away from each other. You pushed down your disappointment and hid it in the secret crevice in your heart as the two of you faced your intruder.
Zeff observed your flour-laden figures, his thick eyebrows scrunched together in irritation. He then demanded, voice seething and dripping with anger, "What in the hell are you two little brats doing?"
Sanji blurted out in defense, "Zeff, we—she was the one who started it!"
"And you went along with it!" You accused incredulously, grinning from ear-to-ear. Sanji grinned back, shaking his head and biting his lower lip.
"Oh, shut up before I stitch your mouths! Just by looking at you two, I already know that you snot-nosed shits are both at fault!" Zeff shouted, clicking his tongue at the sight of the half emptied flour. "Wasted them good flour for your childish fights. You're even worse than fatwits. Get out and clean the toilets!"
"Not the shitty toilets!" Sanji groaned, and you couldn't blame him for it. The bathroom area smelled revolting and the floors were always wet for some reason.
"I don't wanna hear complaints from you when you've dirtied my kitchen! Off you go!" Zeff dismissed, and you can't help but to laugh again when you saw Sanji pout like a little kid.
The head chef watched the two of you leave the kitchen together while giggling and exchanging fond looks. Patty, who also saw the whole situation unfold, suddenly appeared beside him, snickering, "I can already hear the wedding bells ringing."
Zeff took a deep, tired breath.
"Oh, they're ringing alright."
You cleaned and scrubbed the toilets the entire afternoon with the man you're in love with, flushing your plans down the drain and forgetting all about them, and that was the second time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.
⸻ • ⸻
You didn't know how you ended up in a ship full of pirates.
Well, maybe you knew. A little. But it wasn't supposed to be like this.
Your knuckles were beginning to turn white with how tight you were clenching them. A mix of emotions swirled around in your chest, namely confusion, impatience, and hesitation, pondering about whether you should be irritated at yourself or at Sanji.
The opportunity was there, handed to you like a steak on a golden platter, or a miracle that suddenly fell from the sky. The day you met Luffy and his strange pirate crew was the day you immediately realized that he was the key to your exit from the Baratie. He was friendly; a good pirate, according to his own words, so you figured he would allow you to tag along for a while until you find an island to get off to. You just had to ask for his permission and wait for his reply.
Luffy agreed. And you were ecstatic. You were finally going to leave Sanji Vinsmoke and your pathetic, unrequited feelings behind.
Or so you thought.
You watched in horror as he followed you when you boarded the Going Merry, also carrying a bag of his own. He said something along the lines of Luffy needing a cook for the journey to the Grand Line but you couldn't care less. You got here first. Why was he here?
So here you were, sitting in a corner, lonelier than ever and regretting your life decisions. You watched Luffy and his friends celebrate after defeating the pirate Arlong and saving Coco Village from his inhuman hold over its people, but Sanji and the beautiful orange haired Nami were nowhere in sight.
The thought of them being gone together at the same time left a bitter aftertaste on your tongue.
Nami. The first time you laid eyes on her, ethereal was the word that came up to your mind. With soft deep saffron locks that framed her small face and a wide blue eyed gaze, she would have the cruelest of men begging for mercy and affection at her feet.
Unfortunately, Sanji was one of those men.
Fuck, you cursed mentally, rubbing your face with your hands to try and forget about the times he flirted with her and the moments he wouldn't stop talking about her or kept asking about her favorite food or dessert or if she's into blonds. Your already battered heart doesn't need the usual reminder that he'll never see you that way, that you weren't going to experience his sweet words and his loving gazes.
You took a sharp breath. It's okay, you tell yourself over and over again until they were buried in your heart. They'll make a great pair, Sanji the cook and Nami the thief. A strong man with an equally strong woman. Yes. That makes sense.
You'll leave soon anyway, and you'll no longer have to worry about seeing them or how they were going to end up together.
And yet you can't help but to think about the things that could've been if you were the one he was in love with instead.
You were crossing your arms and hugging yourself as the crisp afternoon air was getting chilly when a hand gripping a shot glass filled with amber liquid appeared in front of you. Looking up, you saw Luffy smiling widely at you, waving the glass encouragingly.
"Come on, just one drink! Usopp poured this for you!" The captain exclaimed heartily, obviously trying to uplift your spirits and to make you feel welcomed in his crew, even though you did nothing but to guard the Going Merry while they were fighting for their lives.
You shook your head and smiled politely. "No, I don't drink. Sorry."
Luffy's smile faltered, but he recovered quickly. He nodded, setting the glass down on top of a barrel. "Well, okay." He said, then turned to Usopp, who was currently downing a whole bottle of whiskey. "Hey, where's Nami?"
"Oh, she's with the cook," Usopp replied cheekily, wiping his mouth after drinking. There was a teasing tone in his voice as he continued, "Someone's getting a boyfriend tonight!"
With that said, you reached for the shot glass that Luffy was offering you earlier, grabbed it swiftly, and poured the whole thing down your throat. The whiskey tasted unfamiliar, and it burned and made you dizzy at first taste, but it doesn't matter; as long as it can make you forget just for a little while, you were willing to drink more of the horrible beverage.
Zoro, the green haired swordsman and the captain's first mate, stared at you as if you had lost your mind, but a tinge of concern was visibly written on his face. "Woah, slow down." He warned sternly.
"I thought you didn't drink." Was all Luffy said, blinking in confusion. You chuckled tiredly.
"Now I do."
Drink after drink, glass after glass. You lost count on how many times Usopp poured whiskey for you, or how many times Zoro shook his head in disbelief. Luffy was the same old happy-go-lucky captain throughout the disaster that was starting to brew inside you, turning your brain into mush. You can barely lift your head or your fingers as you asked for another shot in an incoherent voice. Luckily, Usopp was still able to understand you, tipping the whiskey bottle yet again towards your glass.
You started to raise the glass to your lips, eager to just get severely drunk and be over with it already. However, you suddenly felt strong fingers wrap around your wrist to stop you from drinking; and when you caught sight of a familiar silver ring with Baratie's jolly roger inlaid upon it, you didn't need to look up to know who it was.
Sanji's voice was unnervingly calm as he questioned the crew, but the slight shake in his words lets you know otherwise. "Which one of you allowed her to drink?"
"No one. She took the glass and made the decision herself." Zoro drawled, challenging the chef, "The last time I checked, waiter, you were supposed to be the one responsible for her."
Sanji ignored him and turned his attention to you. He stole the shot glass away from you, then kneeled and held your hands comfortingly, smiling. "Come on, ange. It's time for you to rest now." He said quietly, yet loud enough for only you to hear.
You stubbornly shook your head repeatedly and whined loudly. "No! Don't touch me!" You cried, prying your hands away from his, "I don't like you...!"
Zoro huffed in amusement at your declaration. Sanji glared at him for a short second before looking at you again. This time, he stood and gently placed his arms under your shoulders to raise you up. Once you were standing on your feet, he swept you up and carried you bridal style with ease. Another whine escaped your lips.
"Put me down! I want another drink, please, just one more!" You pleaded while throwing weak punches on his chest. Sanji only smiled and began to lead you towards the sleeping quarters. You continued to thrash in his arms as he walked slowly and in small steps so he wouldn't drop you.
Sanji carefully set you down on your hammock. "No drinks for you until you actually learn how to take them." He told you, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. His thumb caressed the soft skin of your cheek and rubbed it in circles, noting how fast you were heating up due to the alcohol. You pouted.
"Pretty please, Sanji...please..."
He chuckled, staring at you intensely. "Maybe some other time, ange."
You went quiet, staring back at him with half-lidded eyes. Then, you crossed your arms like a child and asked, "Why do you keep calling me that?"
Sanji raised a brow. "Call you what? Ange?"
You nodded. "I don't like it."
He began to smile, the dimples on his cheeks appearing. You briefly wondered if he'd allow you to poke and feel them. "Why?"
"I don't know what it means. Is it an insult?" You wondered aloud, your eyes widening in curiosity.
A hearty and warm laugh came out from Sanji, his eyes forming half-moons as he cackled at your words like they were the biggest joke he heard in his entire life, "Oh, my dear girl, how could I possibly insult you?" He managed to speak between laughs, "It means angel. You're an angel, to me at least. My angel."
Oh.
Your lips parted in surprise. Blinking, you simply said, "You're not Sanji."
He's not Sanji. He wouldn't call you angel; you're not even sure if he found you beautiful or attractive. You wear the same old tattered dresses that Zeff bought for you a long time ago, and you didn't even bother to style your hair or put on face powder like all the other beautiful ladies do. You look nowhere near to an angel.
But Sanji only grinned. "I assure you, I am very much Sanji. The little brat who pulled your hair when we were barely eleven years old."
Your breath hitched at the thought of him remembering one of your fond memories in your childhood. "You remembered."
"Of course I remembered." He whispered, cupping your cheek one last time before he got ready to leave. He turned on his heel and was about to walk away when you spoke.
"Are you going to see her again?" You asked, and he quickly noticed how broken your voice sounded. Sanji faced you in concern and was taken aback with how deep you were frowning. He figured that you were just drunk and women tend to be different when they were intoxicated. You were no exception to that, it seemed.
"Hm?" He hummed, prompting you to elaborate further.
Tears began to form in the corners of your eyes. You shakily mumbled, "Nami...you're going to Nami, aren't you?"
Sanji froze, an icy cold rush filling up his body. A knot formed in his throat, and it continued to tighten the longer he stared at your face. You looked so hurt—like he just destroyed your beloved guitar into pieces. Your lower lips were trembling, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. For a moment, he couldn't find the courage to answer you, feeling like he could die at any second now if he answers your question.
But the answer was simple.
"Yes." He breathed out, a sharp pain stabbing through his heart.
And it only became worse when a teardrop finally rolled down your cheek. "Why?" You rasped, and Sanji didn't know that a single word can hurt this much.
He tried to give you a reassuring smile but awfully failed to do so. He started to explain, "We were just discussing something—"
"Why not me?"
Those three words coming out of your mouth felt like a final blow to his heart. He can feel himself bleed, drained of life and soul because of you and your words alone, and he let you. He let you kill him, he let you make him swim in his own guilt and he doesn't why, why, why.
More tears fell out of your angelic eyes, staining your cheeks with wet trails, and he tried to hold himself back from wiping them off. You choked out, "Why not me, Sanji? I have been asking myself that question for the past decade, and it eats my brain every night like some kind of plague, but I let it anyway. Because why? Why can't you just recognize me and appreciate me and see me? Why can't you go to me if you want to talk about your dreams, or what dish you're planning to create? Why do you have to seek solace in other women when you have me standing by your side everyday, me who is willing to listen to you and whatever you have to say?"
Angry, red rimmed eyes glared at him. Your hair strands stuck to your skin and framed your face as sweat began to form on your forehead. Teardrops clung to your wet eyelashes and your face was drenched like you just took a swim in the ocean. You were burning with fury and rage and want, struggling to breathe properly after your little rant, and Sanji thought you couldn't be more beautiful. You were so beautiful.
"Oh but I couldn't blame you for that. She's just so beautiful, so perfect, and so strong. She could give you anything you wanted and she could be anything that I never was." You hiccuped, smiling forcibly, "But in the end...I will still love you. I will always love you. I think."
You scooted closer to him, leaning in until your faces only had a few inches apart between them. You didn't notice how his lips were slightly parted in shock, nor his eyes that were starting to glisten with his own tears. "No matter where I flee to, or where I lay my heart on, or which skies I look at—it's always you, Sanji. It's always been you."
"I had been so selfless all these years, Sanji. So please, can you pretend to like me too, just for today, before I leave?" You whispered meekly, cupping his cheeks with both of your hands. Numb and completely speechless, Sanji simply gave you a single nod as a response.
You gingerly pressed your lips against his, and he immediately tasted the saltiness of your tears. But your lips were soft, as he expected from an angel like you. And so he couldn't help himself; he closed his eyes and delicately kissed you back, repeating your name in his mind like a sacred prayer and wishing to the stars above to not let the moment end.
However, you broke the kiss by losing consciousness and falling down on your hammock, knocked out and peacefully snoring.
Sanji spaced out, not moving from his position. No. It's not that he didn't want to move—he couldn't move. He couldn't feel anything except for the drumming of his heart, knocking on his chest desperately. His lips were still tingling and his ears and neck were warming up.
He gulped, loosening the collar of his shirt to cool himself down. He needed a cigarette. And a drink.
Scrambling to get up even with his trembling legs, Sanji managed to stand properly. He avoided your sleeping figure and decided to get out of the room as soon as possible. However, when he took a step forward, his foot touched a notebook lying on the floor.
Sanji bent down and took the notebook. He flipped it open, and after reading only the first page, he finally came into a conclusion.
Heartbroken, drunk, and unaware, you dozed off the rest of the afternoon. When nightfall settled on the azure horizon and dusk fell on the rough surface of the sea, you missed the chance to walk away from the crew yet again; and that was the third time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.
⸻ • ⸻
The next morning, you woke up feeling much better with only the memory of you drinking and crying yourself to sleep and nothing else. Everything was normal, and the crew began to make plans for their next adventure during breakfast.
Everything was normal, except for Sanji, who was quiet throughout the whole discussion. And of course, just like always, you were the only one who noticed his strange behavior. You tried to catch his eyes, but he looked at everywhere except you.
When he finally met your gaze, you gave him a soft smile, hoping he would smile back and everything was fine and you were just overthinking it.
He doesn't.
⸻ • ⸻
"Are you really going to leave?"
Taking your gaze away from the heart shaped cloud you spotted on the clear blue sky, you faced the person who asked the question you were dreading for some time now. Luffy was staring curiously at you, awaiting your answer. You can't help but to smile softly at the captain, whose kindness you have yet to repay.
"I believe we already talked about this, captain." You said, recalling your short conversation last night. He kept asking you if you were really sure about your decision while his eyes darted to a certain blond haired chef every time he shoots you the question. It was strange, and you felt even more suspicious when Sanji pretended not to hear your answer and even refused to glance your way.
Luffy put his hands on his hips. "You know, you're welcome to stay and be a part of my crew."
You crossed your arms, smile growing wide. "And what, pray tell, is my role? Sing battle songs and chant your names while you swing your gummy arms at pirates?" You joked playfully.
The young captain stroked his chin in deep thought, almost like he was considering your suggestion. "That's not a bad idea."
You bursted out laughing, shaking your head in disbelief, "I'll leave first thing in the morning. I told Nami to dock at a nearby island."
"What about Sanji?" He suddenly questioned, leaving you flabbergasted for a split second. You weren't prepared to hear Sanji's name after days of not talking to him properly.
Him not speaking with you wasn't a strange occurence at all; back when you were still in the Baratie, there would be days when Sanji wouldn't bother to acknowledge your presence and would completely ignore you. This would happen whenever he was extremely busy with his cooking or he had a disagreement with Zeff.
And it seemed like this was one of those days, seeing that he had been ignoring you for about a week now. Yes, you have been keeping count. Although he doesn't appear to be angry with you, the short-lived exchanges and the abrupt cut-offs before you could say anything deeply concerned you more than it should have.
You tried to rack your brains for reasons on why he was acting like this. Maybe Nami had rejected him for the hundredth time, or Zoro kept throwing insults in his direction—or maybe his cigarette packet had ran out. Maybe his kitchen knives weren't sharp anymore and he was struggling in the kitchen.
Should you ask him? Should you go to him and demand him to tell you what's wrong?
You pressed your lips together. It sounded like the worst idea you've thought of so far. You convinced yourself that Sanji was fine and he'd be back to normal in no time; there would no need to talk to him.
"What about him?" You faltered, chuckling to ease the tension in your body.
"You care for each other." Luffy explained bluntly and matter-of-factly, "What does he think about you leaving?"
A shaky sigh made its way out of your lips. How will you tell the captain that his cook has been avoiding you like you were some kind of rotten fish these days?
"I..." You stammered, gathering the courage to lie to Luffy even if you thought it would be the gravest sin you could commit, "He...agrees. Yeah. No need to worry."
Luffy grinned, but it didn't look normal at all. You winced in embarrassment. He knew that you were lying and was totally unconvinced.
Luckily, he didn't voice it out. He only nodded and said, "Great! Oh, I have an idea! Why don't you sing for us before we part ways? Think of it as a farewell party for the crew."
Hearing the pure and genuine excitement dripping from his voice, you couldn't turn him down. It was a good idea too, and now that you thought about it, you haven't performed for them yet. "Sure." You agreed, shrugging.
He raised his fist up in the air and cheered. You smiled, watching as he shouted for his crewmates' names to come down and listen to you sing. You prepared yourself for an impromptu performance, making sure that your guitar was properly tuned and your voice was clear enough to give you the best version of your singing. Sitting on top of a barrel, you faced your audience of four, all their eager eyes watching your every move.
As you struck the first chord to your song, you tried hard not to think that Sanji wasn't there to watch you sing the song you secretly dedicate to him.
In the kitchen, Sanji busied himself by plating the food that he'll serve to his fellow crew mates for dinner. He grabbed a large plate and placed the chicken drumsticks that his captain favored, but Luffy wasn't the one in his mind when he cooked those. Looking at the food, he wondered if you would love them too.
He shook his thoughts off and took the plate with him outside. Approaching the crew, his steps slowed down when he heard a familiar singing voice and a melodic tune of a guitar.
Sanji almost dropped the plate.
It was you. Of course it was you, you were the only one he knew who had a voice like that. It was you, and you were singing with a lovely smile painted on your sweet lips, the very same lips that touched his a few days ago, resulting in him not getting a wink of sleep every night. The beam of the sunset right behind you colored your hair in the different shades of the sky as the dulcet-filled notes you made echoed throughout the vast sea. For a moment, he was worried that you were going to attract ferocious sea beasts with your angelic voice and steal you away from him.
He could hear his blood pound in his ears the longer he observed you from afar. You looked happy. Happier than you were when you stayed with him and Zeff. His chest tightened, knowing that you leaving and go on adventures on your own was probably the best decision you could make, even if that means leaving him too.
You were finishing up your song by the time you saw Sanji standing behind Usopp, silently listening. He met your gaze, and for the first time ever, you couldn't read his mind. His expression was blank as you stared at each other, and as you opened your mouth to say something, he cut you off.
"Dinner's ready." Sanji announced shortly, setting down the plate in front of Luffy and then walked away without saying another word.
That was your final straw. You immediately put down your guitar and followed him into the kitchen. You didn't care about how you felt Nami's watchful eyes on you as you went after him, nor how Luffy was scarfing down the dinner and was definitely going to finish it all before you could take a bite; you just chased the blond with determination oozing out of you.
You roughly pushed the door open and found Sanji washing the pans he used for cooking. He glanced at you briefly then quickly looked away after. This irritated you even more as you demanded, "Is there something bothering you?"
"You should eat before the food gets cold." He said with an empty voice.
"Sanji!"
He stiffened. You rarely raised your voice at anyone. Sighing in defeat, he dried off his hands and fully faced you.
Your eyes were sharper than his knives, cutting straight into his soul. "I've known you for a long time now, do you think I don't notice whenever you have a problem?" You glowered, taking a step closer to him, "You have a problem. What is it?"
It happened fast. His hand landed on the small of your back and pulled you to his chest, and the other was placed on top of your cheek, and in a single motion, Sanji captured your lips with his. You gasped in the kiss, your heart dropping to the soles of your feet when he tilted his face to deepen it. Your fingers tightly grasped the sleeves of his shirt for support as he passionately moved his lips against yours. A pleasant heat ran down your spine, your whole body tingling and warming up. You were simply drowning. There was no other way to describe it, and it was only caused by his fervent kisses.
Sanji pulled away, resting your forehead on top of yours, and you took it as an opportunity to breathe in air that you lost. "You are the problem." He murmured lowly, eyes darting down to your swollen lips. Confused and lightheaded, you didn't get the chance to retort.
"Ever since that night, ange, you occupy my thoughts. You gave me a taste of your lips and you didn't even remember the next day. Do you know how that feels, hm?" He said, pecking your lips once again. You made a noise in the back of your throat, turning your head sideways so he couldn't kiss you anymore, but he took your chin and hungrily connected both of your lips.
He spoke between kisses, "You torture me. Ever since I read those songs you wrote about me in that little notebook of yours, you torture me with your presence."
That was when you snapped out of your daze. With all the force you could muster, you placed your hands on his chest and pushed him away. Sanji stepped back, surprised at your reaction.
Without giving him a chance to ask you anything, you ran off and left the kitchen, slamming the door loudly so you wouldn't hear him calling your name and be tempted to go back in his arms again.
You arrived in the sleeping quarters, locking the door behind you. You were sure that the others would understand you needing your alone time. Once you made sure you were on your own, your body collapsed altogether, your back sliding down against the door as you panted heavily.
He knows, was all you could think about. He knows about the songs. He knows about your feelings.
Well, you finally got your answer to your previous question, but a more complicated one replaced it. With trembling hands, your fingers raised themselves to your lips, touching its surface. You hated the way that you still felt his warmth on top of them.
A lone tear slid down the side of your nose. He was cruel. Sanji was cruel.
You didn't come out of that room for days, refusing to talk to anyone as you gathered your scrambled throughts and pulled yourself back together, and that was the fourth time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.
⸻ • ⸻
A stack of books, most of them being a collection of maps compiled in one, rested beside you while you flipped through the pages of the one you chose among them.
Nami has been lending you her books ever since you shut yourself out from the crew. You ignored all of them and only let Nami in, hoping that she'll be able to understand you; and she did. She was a good listener. Although you weren't particularly close with each other, you trusted her and told her everything: your dreams, your problems, your feelings, and Sanji. In return, she confided in you too.
"Here. So you can finally decide on where you will go to," You recall her saying while she handed you her collection of world map books, "and to distract yourself, of course."
"You're too kind, Nami." You said in admiration. Maybe this is why Sanji was enamored with her. She was a beauty inside and out.
Nami shrugged, yet she was smiling. "Just helping a fellow woman out."
The books did take your mind off the stubborn blond haired man that was still resting inside your heart, even if it was only for a fleeting moment. You tried to search for islands that will be suitable for you to start your career, narrowing some of them down into choices, but your eyes wil always lead back to where the Baratie was stationed.
You leaned back against your chair, letting your head hit the wall with a soft thud as you released a sigh of frustration. Not only will you need to prepare yourself for a journey all alone, but you also have to talk to Sanji sooner or later, whether you like it or not. The kiss distracted you more than the books Nami gave you. You think of it in the morning and dream of it at night, and it only got worse every time you remembered that he kissed you like he loved you.
Relaxing in your seat, you closed the book and listened to the silence.
The Going Merry docked for a quick trip to a market to gather fresh ingredients for food. Sanji will be gone for the meantime and you were free to roam around the ship without his heated stare boring holes in your skin.
But the peace was ruined by rushed footsteps and Usopp breaking into the room, almost destroying the door with his brute force. You frowned, standing up on alert when you saw how nervous he looked.
"Sanji's injured!" He exclaimed, which got your brow raising, knowing that he had a long history of lying to people. However, he forcibly pulled Sanji inside, and you were greeted by the sight of a bruised man, whose lips were bleeding and cheeks were starting to yellow.
You immediately sprang into action. You took the first aid kit you packed in your bag and grabbed his arm, making him sit down on your chair.
"How did you get into a fight in just a span of ten minutes?" You asked in irritation, wetting a cloth with saltwater to wipe off the blood on his lips.
Sanji grunted, tensing up when you took a hold of his face and dabbed on his lip using the cloth. "Some petty vendor was selling overpriced onions, and they weren't even the best of quality."
You stopped for a minute, glaring at him. "So you decided to punch them instead of talking it over?"
He only huffed in reply. Pursing your lips in annoyance, you continued to treat his wounds in silence, noticing him flinching and wincing in pain whenever you compress the bruised area with ice. "Who's being petty now?" You scolded impatiently, "Stay still."
The only sound that filled the room was you hastily rummaging your kit trying to find an ointment and an awkward silence that made you want to jump into the sea and never swim back to the surface. You unscrewed the lid of the jar of ointment and scooped some with your finger, looking at Sanji as you did so. He looked back at you quietly, and you tried hard not to think about the fact that you have to touch his lips in order for you to apply it.
It seemed like he realized that too, glancing down at the dollop of ointment on top of your finger, then back to you. You just gave him a small, uneasy smile, showing him that you weren't uncomfortable even though you were, and shyly took a step forward.
As gently as you could, you spread the ointment on the wounded area on his lips, reminding yourself to not be distracted on how soft they looked.
"A busted lip because of overpriced ingredients...it almost feels like you're doing this on purpose so I wouldn't get the chance to leave you." You half-heartedly joked to lighten up the atmosphere. However, you were greeted by nothing, not even a smart comeback or a funny joke from the blond. You hesitantly observed his reaction, and saw that he was grim and serious, guilt swimming in his beryl blue eyes.
The realization began to sink in.
Oh.
You should've known from the start. Sanji was a great fighter; he wouldn't be injured in the first place. "Sanji..."
Sanji took your wrist and held on it tightly. Your breath hitched, only then realizing how much you missed his touch, his warm, gentle, and loving touch.
"Let me go." You weakly said, even though deep down, you didn't want him to.
"Tell me you're not in love with me." He said, sounding utterly desperate that it almost made you fall down to your knees, "Tell me, and I'll let you go."
When you didn't answer, he stood up and cupped your cheeks with both of his hands. He pleaded, "Look at me. Look into my eyes and tell me you don't love me."
"Please don't do this." You whispered in pain as you tearfully shook your head.
"Stay. Please, stay." Sanji begged, pressing his forehead against yours, "What can I do to make you stay? Tell me. I'll do anything. Do I need to kneel? To beg for your forgiveness? Tell me what you want. I'll do anything in my power to make you the happiest woman in all of East Blue. Just please, don't leave."
"I can't." You answered, closing your eyes, a few tears streaming down your cheeks. You hate the way he was making this so hard for you.
He only continued, "Hate me, curse me, shout at me, if you must. Anything but you leaving me. Or do you want to make me yours? Then I am letting you. Whatever you want, mon ange—my heart, my soul, my attention, they're all yours. I'm all yours."
"No..."
"The crew will be incomplete without you." Sanji insisted in anguish.
"I have dreams, Sanji. Just like you and the rest of the crew." You explained softly, placing your own hands on top of his in attempt to comfort him and relieve him from his confusion.
However, he was persistent, "You can achieve your dreams without leaving. You can stay, and I will support you in everything you do. You're better off staying with me—with us."
You said firmly, "I will not spend the rest of my life doing what I don't want."
"Even with me by your side?"
A few second pass before you finally reply, "I'd be miserable."
Pain flashed on his face, making you want to take back your own words, yet you remained strong and unyielding. Sanji took a deep breath and stepped away from you, saying, "I'd rather have you miserable here than go out there and encounter ruthless pirates."
The statement quickly irritated you, frowning at him deeply. "You think I'll have problems with pirates when I've been serving them for years?"
"Oh, darling, you wouldn't be able to say that once you've encountered worse ones, with bounties higher than you could ever imagine." He snapped, voice raising with each word.
"I can manage on my own!" You bit back frustratingly, your tears evaporating into anger.
Sanji scowled at you, impatiently running his fingers through his hair. "You can't fight!" He shouted, voice breaking in the process, and with it, your heart too. It shattered like glass and the shards landed and pierced through your lungs, rendering you breathless. Your eyes widened, mouth dropping open in shock.
Seeing your expression, he immediately snapped back to reality, regret writing itself on his face. You shook your head in disbelief and let out a humorless laugh, "Are you telling me that I'm weak?"
"I didn't say that." Sanji quickly said in a hushed manner.
"But you're implying it!" You choked, still can't believe that he doesn't trust you. He doesn't trust you enough to accomplish your dreams on your own, and that he was not confident that you'll succeed without him by your side.
You wanted to ask him about the passionate kiss you two shared, about his loving gestures that confused the hell out of you, about his fresh bruises that he received on purpose so that he can get you to stay, and why he did all of that. You needed confirmation. But the question that left you was, "What am I to you?"
Sanji stayed quiet, and your heart broke again once more. Deciding that this was the last time he breaks it, you walked away and left him alone to tend to his own injuries.
He lit up a cigarette as he listened to your fading footsteps. A single teardrop fell down from his eye the moment he placed the cigarette between his lips, and all he could think about was that you hurt more than the bruises on his cheeks.
You packed your bags and spoke with Nami, telling her that you were ready, and that was the fifth time you tried to leave Sanji Vinsmoke—and tomorrow, you'll finally succeed.
⸻ • ⸻
The sun had just risen, and the early morning breeze smelled of the ocean, the calming sound of waves filling your ears. It was one of those days when the sky was clear and the sunlight wasn't harsh but pleasantly warm on your skin, making it the perfect day to start working on a new song and strum on your guitar for the melody.
But today was different. You were standing on the first step of the ship's staircase that leads to a docking station and a wooden walkway towards an unfamiliar island that was soon to be your new home. Your fingers clenched on the strap of your bag, finding this moment to be surreal. You have tried many times to leave, and here it was, right on the palms of your hands.
"So. This is it, huh?" Your trance broke as Nami commented beside you. She was the only one to bid you farewell and watch you leave, since the others were still asleep. You thought of Sanji and how he looked like when he was sleeping, staring at his handsome features so you can memorize them and implant it in your mind. He was your first love; you didn't want to forget him.
You smiled. "Thank you, Nami." You said earnestly, "I would've liked to spend more time with you. It's tiring to speak to men sometimes, don't you think?"
She laughed. "Yeah." Then, she caged you in her arms and hugged you tightly, surprising you for a second before you laughed too and returned the hug. "Stay safe out there."
"I will."
"So you planned to leave? Without saying goodbye?" A new voice interrupted, breaking the hug you and Nami both shared. You swiveled to look behind you, and there stood Sanji, appearing to have just woken up, with the strands of his blond hair sticking up in different directions. You observed his dejected expression, the downward tilt of the corners of his lips, and the glistening of his tired eyes. You stared at his crumpled suit and his crooked necktie. Despite how messy he looked, he will always be perfect to you.
You walked forward and looked at him fondly, with your eyes full of so much love reserved for him and him only. "Thought it would hurt less." You said, raising your hands to touch his hair and brush it down, "And I was right. How can I leave now when you're standing in front of me?"
He sighed shakily as he felt your soft fingers threading through his hair. "Then don't." He whispered. You only smiled at him. He didn't smile back, but that didn't stop you from taking both of his hands and caressing his knuckles using your thumb.
"Every night, I'll look at the moon and think of you. I'll tell my stories, sing my songs, and whisper my secrets to it. Just like what you and me would do when we were little." You told him softly and endearingly, "Would you be so kind as to look at the moon too and think of me?"
Sanji's eyebrows were scrunched together in agony, muttering, "I can't make you stay, can I?"
When you didn't answer, he just nodded his head, understanding what you wanted to stay. He forced a smile and tightly squeezed your hands. "I'm sorry."
"I'm yours." You answered, placing a soft kiss on the back of his hands. After letting your lips linger on his skin for a while, you slowly let go, and with one last glance at his face, you stepped back and made your way downstairs to the docking area, leaving before you could change your mind.
Sanji watched you go. While you walked away from the Going Merry, from the crew, and from him, not once did you look back. He just watched as you went farther away and became smaller in the distance, until you blended in with the crowd and you were just another person in a sea of people. And then you were gone.
It was the sixth time you tried to leave Sanji Vinsmoke, and this time, you finally did.
⸻ • ⸻
The red velvet curtains began to draw in front of you, gently falling back down on the stage as you said your final good-byes to your audience for tonight, a bouquet of roses cradled in your arms while you blew delicate kisses towards them. You can still hear their loud cheering and clapping even as you retreated to your personal room backstage.
A middle-aged woman greeted you inside when you stepped in the room and closed the door behind you, whistling. "There she is, our talented rising star!"
You only laughed at the silly nickname, setting the bouquet of roses that one of the people gave you in tonight's show on top of your vanity table. "You exaggerate, Madam. I have only performed two shows in your beautiful theater."
The madam, who was the owner of the theater you were currently working in, shook her head in disagreement. "And those two shows are sold out!" She informed you proudly, placing her hands on your shoulders, "Let me know if you want to add more, you are welcome to perform here anytime."
"I'll think about it." You replied, smiling. The madam patted your shoulder twice before she left you alone, humming happily to herself. You huffed in amusement, fully aware that she doesn't appreciate your talents at all, but only cared for the money.
Regardless of that, you were happy. It has been a couple of years since you left the Strawhat Pirates and pursued your dreams all on your own, and you've been traveling to different islands across the seas to perform. You never had a permanent home; being a musician meant going to many places from time to time to share and spread out your music.
Yet you can't help but miss life on the sea.
You missed washing dishes on the Baratie and the late night conversations you had with Zeff. You missed Luffy and his weird antics, Usopp and his jokes, Zoro and his blunt comments, and Nami and her kindness.
You missed Sanji and everything that he was.
You stared at your reflection in the vanity mirror on your desk. Your hair was pinned neatly, you had make-up on and you were dressed fancily for your performance. Years ago, you wouldn't look like this. It was hard to believe how much you've grown and changed, but these days, you felt like you wanted your old self back. Slowly, you took the itchy pins off your hair, and cleaned your face with warm water and a cloth. You replaced your dress in a more comfortable one and went outside.
Looking up at the night sky, you saw a bright full moon with no stars in sight. It was just the moon and its beauty, illuminating the pitch black sky with its glow. You silently watched it, a smile growing on your lips as you felt a tug on your heart.
"I wonder what you're up to, Sanji." You thought aloud, cheeks heating up at the memory of your first love and his golden hair and his contagious smiles. Then, to your surprise, a voice spoke unexpectedly.
"Well, I am fortuitous to have met such a beautiful angel."
You froze. No one referred to you as angel except for one.
Sanji.
As you turned around, he was already walking towards you. And there you both were, bathing under the moonlight, with him grinning at you mischievously and you looking at him lovingly.  You didn't know how he found you, but what mattered was that he searched for you and now he was here, and he was still making your heart beat fast in your chest just like all those years ago.
How the pesky feelings stayed and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. But maybe it was because he was standing in front of you, and the way his next words made you run into his open arms and kiss him until you were both breathless,
"There you are, ange."
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taglist part 1 @angel-luv3r @appalost @chexmixtrys @nimtano @sparklyphantom @natalieisfreeziing @reallysparklychaos @maydaylovex @johnnysactualgf @mochamei @kisumisumi @ttokyocat @mypurplewinee @rosaliinnn @nonniecannie @court-jester-stuff @detectivelucy07 @megumiif @untitledandrandom @erin-the-king @fangeekkk @nikolaevna-art @candesstuff @chaoticevilbakugo
9K notes · View notes
hurkules · 6 months
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Domestic Life Thoughts…
Jason likes that you need him. He goes weak in the knees when you ask him to open containers because “the top must be stuck.” He can’t help but smile and give a gentle “of course, baby.”
He likes how you drape yourself over him throughout the day. He’s always touch starved, and it gives him butterflies to think that you want him as much as he does you. He doesn’t care to have personal space when it comes to you.
Whenever he gets the chance, Jason cooks for you. He looks up recipes to try out and beams when you compliment him. Whenever you bake, he eats it all in like 48 hours or less. “Sorry, baby” he’ll say placing a kiss on your cheek. “It was too good. I couldn’t resist.”
Sometimes, he has nightmares but waking up next to you is a life saver. Once he was confused and grabbed you wrist a little too hard leaving a bruise. He begged for forgiveness and banished himself to living room for a couple of days. Occasionally, he thinks about it, plants gentle kisses there, and gives a soft “so sorry, baby. It’ll never happen again.”
Jason never yells. Even if you’re arguing, he never raises his voice at you. You yelling literally doesn’t phase him in the slightest, and, to be honest, angry you is super cute and attractive to him. Despite this, he doesn’t act with the intent to upset you. Sometimes, he’s just a dick.
He’s such a loverboy. The two of you have weekly dates and he’s always bring you back chocolate and flowers. He’ll write poems and love notes and leave them on the night stand for you to find when you get home or wake up. He blushes when he finds little love notes you left in his bag and makes a mental note to thank you for it later. You put a cat sticker on his bike, and it’s his favorite thing. He added a heart sticker next to it because “you love cats, coincidentally, you’re kinda cat like, and I love you. It works out perfectly.”
It had been years since he celebrated his birthday, so when you decided to dedicate the day to him, he nearly cried. At the end of the night, you gave him a locket with pictures of the two of you and your cats. You had Eternal Sunshine engraved on the front because “This time with you have been the brightest and warmest days of my life.” At that point, he actually did cry. “You mean the world to me, baby” he told you through tears with his head buried in your neck. “I’d do anything for you. My heart’s always been yours. I swear it.”
4K notes · View notes
starsenha · 2 months
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COME OVER? / P.S
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Pairing ◊ sub!reader x softdom!Sunghoon
Genre ◊ SMUT, fluff, reader and hoon are in a situationship
Warnings ◊ SMUT (minors dni), making out, cursing, kinda jealous hoon??, fingering, rough, softdom!hoon, petnames, unprotected sex (wrap it up), bits of dry humping, mild degradation? (tell me if i missed one!)
Word count ◊ 3,4k
Summary ◊ You and Sunghoon were in a sorta situationship, you agreed at the beginning to keep it no strings attached. But one day, you came over, pretending it was to see his dog Gaeul, but you really wanted to see him.
a/n: not proofread, enjoy!
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You stood outside Sunghoon’s apartment, nervously shifting from foot to foot. You'd been here a million times, but tonight felt different. Your heart raced, and you mentally cursed yourself for being so transparent. Your heart was doing that annoying fluttery thing every time you see him. It was infuriating, really.
With a deep breath, you knocked on the door. Almost immediately, it swung open, revealing Sunghoon’s smiling face. “Hey,” he greeted, his eyes twinkling mischievously. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaving you admiring his toned biceps, emphasized by his gray tank top. “Here to see Gaeul, I assume?”
You rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a grin. “Of course, Hoon. Who else would I be here for?”
He stepped aside to let you in, shaking his head with an exaggerated sigh. “Gaeul! Your favorite human is here!” he called out.
You were barely inside when Gaeul, his fluffy white dog, bounded over to you, tail wagging furiously. You crouched down, giving her all your attention. “Hey, pretty girl! Missed you so much!” you cooed, scratching behind her ears.
Sunghoon stood above you, arms crossed, smirking. “You know, I’m starting to get jealous of my own dog.”
You straightened up, flipping your hair dramatically. “Well, maybe if you were as cute as Gaeul, you’d get the same treatment.”
“Ouch,” he said, clutching his chest. “Right in the heart.” You laughed and he guided to to his living room, his space tidy and clean, like usual. “So, how’s your day been? Or should I ask Gaeul that too?”
You plopped down on the couch, Gaeul jumping up beside you. “It’s been fine. Busy, but fine. How about you?”
He flopped down next to you, close enough that your knees touched. “Same old, same old. But I’ve been looking forward to seeing you. I mean, Gaeul has.”
You snorted. “Sure, Hoonie. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
He grinned, reaching over to tousle your hair. “You’re such a brat, you know that?”
“Yeah, but you love it,” you shot back, winking at him.
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Maybe I do.”
Your breath hitched slightly, but you quickly masked it with a laugh. “You wish.”
You were sprawled out on Sunghoon’s couch, Gaeul curled up beside you, her head resting on your lap. As you absentmindedly stroked her soft fur, you noticed Sunghoon shifting beside you, his attention clearly divided between you and the movie you decided to put on.
“Gaeulie, you’re such a good girl,” you cooed, scratching behind her ears again, you knew it was her favorite spot. “I missed you so much.”
Sunghoon huffed dramatically, throwing his arm over the back of the couch. “You know, I’m here too. Just saying.”
You glanced at him, a smirk playing on your lips. “Oh, really? I hadn’t noticed.”
He rolled his eyes, leaning closer until his shoulder brushed against yours. “Yeah, I can tell. Gaeul’s getting all the love tonight.”
“She deserves it,” you said, kissing the dog’s head. “She’s the cutest.”
He poked your side, making you squirm. “Hey, I’m cute too. At least, that’s what my mom says.”
You laughed, playfully swatting his hand away. “Your mom has to say that. It’s in the Mom Rulebook.”
Sunghoon narrowed his eyes, feigning hurt. “You wound me. Seriously, though, can I get a little attention over here?”
You continued to pet Gaeul, pretending to ponder. “Hmm, I don’t know. Gaeul’s pretty demanding.”
His pout deepened, and before you knew it, he grabbed your hand, pulling you up from the couch. “Okay, that’s it. Come with me.”
“Hey, what are you doing?” you protested, though your protests were more for show than anything.
He didn’t reply, just led you down the hallway to his bedroom. Once inside, he closed the door behind you and sat on the edge of his bed, patting his lap. “Come here.”
You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Oh, so now you want my attention?”
“Yes,” he said, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “And I’m not sharing it with Gaeul this time. Now, come here.”
You sighed dramatically but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “Fine, fine.”
You straddled his lap, your knees on either side of his hips. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer. “That’s better,” he murmured, his voice low.
Your heart raced as you leaned in, your lips inches from his. “You’re so needy, Hoon.”
“Only for you,” he whispered before closing the distance between you.
His lips met yours in a soft, lingering kiss that quickly deepened. One of his hands slid up your back, tangling in your hair, while the other stayed firmly on your waist, grounding you to him. You responded eagerly, your fingers threading through his hair as you kissed him back with equal fervor.
The kiss grew more intense, your breaths mingling as you lost yourselves in each other. Sunghoon’s tongue teased your lips before slipping inside, exploring your mouth with a familiarity that sent shivers down your spine. You could feel his smile against your lips, the playful edge never quite disappearing, even in moments like these. He pressed you harder against him, and you could feel his boner underneath you, making you squirm. 
He broke the kiss for a moment, his eyes dark with a mix of lust and determination. “You’re such a tease, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low and rough.
You smirked, running your fingers through his hair. “Only because you love it, Hoonie.”
He growled softly, a sound that sent shivers down your spine. “You’re right. I do.” His hands slid up your back, under your shirt, his touch firm and possessive. “But you need to learn when to shut that pretty little mouth of yours.”
You opened your mouth to retort, but he captured your lips again, his kiss silencing you effectively. His tongue invaded your mouth, demanding and unyielding, and you couldn’t help but let go as you melted into his arms. He knew excalty how to make you putty in his hands. 
When he pulled back, his eyes bore into yours. “That’s better,” he said, his tone low. “I like you quiet.”
You pouted playfully, but your breath hitched as his hands roamed your body, exploring every inch with a confident touch, going from your breast to your sides to the small of your back. “Hoonie,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.
He smirked, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “Yes, baby?” He tilted your head back, his lips attacking your neck with a series of hot, open-mouthed kisses. You gasped, your hands clutching his shoulders as he sucked and nipped at your sensitive skin. You moaned his name slightly, and you could feel his smug smirk on your neck. 
“Good girl,” he murmured against your skin. “I love hearing you like this.”
You shivered at his words, a thrill of excitement running through you. You loved his pet names and how he made you feel cherished and desired. It was addicting. 
“You’re so needy,” he teased, his lips brushing against your ear. “You can’t get enough, can you?”
You shook your head, your breath coming in short gasps. “No, I can’t.”
He chuckled darkly, his hands sliding under your shirt and lifting it over your head. “That’s what I thought.” He tossed your shirt aside, his eyes raking over your exposed skin. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmured, his hands exploring your curves.
You shivered under his touch, your hands moving to unbutton his shirt. “You too, Hoonie.”
He allowed you to remove his shirt, his muscles flexing under your touch. “You’re being awfully good tonight,” he noted, a teasing edge to his voice.
You smirked, leaning in to kiss his jaw, making him sigh in pleasure. “Don’t get used to it.”
He laughed, a deep, rich sound that made your heart skip a beat. “I wouldn’t dream of it, pretty.” His hands moved to your bra, deftly unclasping it and tossing it aside. You opened your mouth to retort, but his hands on your breasts silenced you, a moan escaping your lips instead. He kneaded your soft flesh, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through you.
As Sunghoon’s hands roamed your bare breasts, kneading and teasing, he shifted his grip, guiding your hips to grind against his. You could feel his hardness through his jeans, and the friction sent jolts of pleasure through your body.
“You like this, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice dripping with arrogance.
You moaned loudly in response, your hands clutching his shoulders for support. He chuckled, the sound low and smug. “That’s what I thought. Such a good girl for me.”
His hands never left your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, making you arch into his touch. Every time you moved, he applied just enough pressure to make you gasp, your hips grinding against him more desperately.
“You’re so sensitive,” he said, his eyes dark with desire and amusement. 
Your breath came in short, ragged gasps, your body completely at his mercy. “Hoon, please…”
“Please what?” he teased, his fingers tweaking your nipples just enough to make you cry out.
“Please… more,” you begged, your voice barely more than a whimper.
Sunghoon's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and his smirk grew even more arrogant. "More, huh? You want more?"
Before you could respond, his hand slipped between your legs, deftly undoing the button and zipper of your jeans. He slid his hand inside, his fingers finding their way to your core through the thin fabric of your panties. The anticipation made you shiver.
“I know exactly what you need,” he murmured, his fingers teasing you through the damp fabric.
With one swift motion, he pushed your panties aside and slid a finger inside you. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, your body arching into his touch. He added another finger, thrusting them roughly, setting a fast pace that made you cry out.
“Fuck, Hoon,” you moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders for support.
“You like that, baby?” he asked, his voice a low growl. “You like my fingers inside you, mmh?”
“Yes fuck,” you breathed, your body trembling with pleasure. “Please don’t stop.”
He chuckled, a dark, satisfied sound that sent shivers down your spine. His fingers moved expertly, curling inside you just right, hitting that sweet spot that made you see stars. He knew your body like the back of his hand, every movement calculated to drive you wild. His thumb found your clit, rubbing it in rough, circular motions that made your moans grow louder.
“Look at you,” he said, his tone a mix of arrogance and affection. “Such a good girl, taking my fingers so well.”
You bit your lip, trying to stifle the moans that kept escaping your lips, but it was impossible. He was too good, too skilled. He knew exactly how to touch you, how to push you to the brink of ecstasy.
“Don’t hold back,” he commanded, his fingers thrusting even faster. “I want to hear you.”
You couldn’t hold back if you tried anyway. Your moans filled the room, your body trembling with the intensity of your approaching climax. “Hoonie, I’m so close,” you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders.
“I know, baby,” he murmured, his voice soothing yet commanding. He started attacking your neck, leaving purple marks all over your neck and collarbone. “Let go for me. Cum for me.”
With a final, skillful twist of his fingers, he pushed you over the edge. Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless and trembling in his arms. You cried out his name, your body shaking with the force of your release.
He held you through it, his fingers slowing but never stopping, prolonging your pleasure until you were a quivering mess in his lap. “That’s it,” he whispered, his voice filled with satisfaction. “Good girl.”
As you trembled in his lap, your body still reeling from the intense orgasm he had given you, Sunghoon’s eyes darkened with raw desire. He watched you with a predatory gaze, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.
“You’re so hot when you cum,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “I can’t wait any longer. I need to be inside you.”
You shivered at his words, the anticipation making your heart race. “Hoonie…”
He silenced you with a searing kiss, his hands moving to rid himself of his jeans and boxers. You could feel his hardness pressing against you, and the thought of him inside you made your core ache with need.
“I’m going to make you feel so good,” he whispered against your lips, his voice dripping with confidence. “You’re mine.”
You nodded, your brain already turning to mush from his touch and words. With a low growl, he positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock teasing your wet folds. “Ready, baby?”
“Yes,” you breathed, your hands clutching his shoulders. “Please, Hoonie.”
He didn’t need any more encouragement. In one swift motion, he thrust into you, filling you completely. You cried out, the sensation of him stretching you overwhelming and exquisite.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hips as he began to move. “So fucking perfect.”
Your mind went blank as he set a fast and rough pace, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. You could barely form coherent thoughts, let alone words. All you could do was cling to him and moan his name.
“Sunghoon,” you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders. “So good… Hoonie…”
He smirked, clearly enjoying the effect he had on you. “I know, baby.”
His words only heightened your arousal, your body responding eagerly to his control. He pounded into you with a fierce intensity, each movement pushing you closer to the edge.
“You like that?” he asked, his voice a mix of cockiness and affection. “You like it when I fuck you hard, huh?”
“Yes, fuck,” you moaned, your head falling back as you surrendered to the pleasure.
“That’s my good fucking girl,” he growled, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrust even harder. “Take it all.”
You were completely at his mercy, your body a trembling, needy mess. The pleasure was almost too much to bear, but you didn’t want it to stop. You needed him, every inch of him.
“Hoonie,” you whimpered, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m so close.”
He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “Cum for me, baby,” he whispered, his voice commanding and soothing all at once. “Cum all over my cock.”
His words sent you over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you with a force that left you breathless. You cried out his name, your body convulsing around him as waves of pleasure washed over you.
Sunghoon groaned, the tightness of your orgasm pushing him to his own climax. With a few more powerful thrusts, he came inside you, filling you with his warmth. He held you close, his breath ragged and his grip firm, as you both rode out the aftershocks of your pleasure.
As you slowly came down from your high, you collapsed against him, your body spent and trembling. He held you gently, his hands soothing as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.
As you both started to breathe normally again, Sunghoon gently lifted you off his lap and guided you to lie down beside him on his bed. He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you, his body warm and comforting against yours. The room was quiet, save for the soft sounds of your breathing and the faint rustle of the sheets.
You nestled into his embrace, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. His hand traced lazy circles on your back, the simple touch grounding you in the afterglow of your shared intimacy. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he took deep breaths, his heart beating steadily against your cheek.
For a while, neither of you spoke, content to just be in each other’s presence. But then, Sunghoon shifted slightly, his fingers stilling on your back. He took a deep breath, his chest expanding under your head, and you sensed he was gearing up to say something important.
“Hey,” he began, his voice soft and hesitant. “Can… I ask you something?”
You tilted your head up to look at him, your eyes meeting his. “Of course, Hoonie. What’s on your mind?”
He hesitated, his brows furrowing slightly as he searched for the right words. “I’ve been thinking… about us.”
Your heart skipped a beat, but you kept your tone light and playful. “Oh? Is this about how I’m your favorite person to cuddle with?”
He chuckled, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Well, there’s that too.” His expression grew more serious, though, and he continued, “But no, I mean… about us being more than just… whatever we are now.” He took another deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours. “I’m not really good at this, talking about my feelings and all, but… I want to be with you. For real.”
Your playful smile softened, and you reached up to cup his cheek. “Hoonie…”
“I mean it,” he said, his voice earnest. “I want us to be a couple, not just whatever this is. I want you to be my girlfriend. I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, but… I didn’t know how.”
You could see the vulnerability in his eyes, and it made your heart swell with affection. “You’re doing just fine,” you assured him, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “But, are you sure you can handle all of this?
He looked at you, confusion flickering in his eyes. “What do you mean?”
You sighed, nestling closer to him, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. “Our lives are really busy, Hoonie. College, work, everything. The reason we kept things no-strings originally was because neither of us were ready to commit to anything serious. Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
Sunghoon’s expression softened, and he brushed a strand of hair away from your face. “I know things are crazy right now. But I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I’m ready to make time for us. I want to be with you, even if it’s not always easy.”
You looked up at him, searching his eyes for any doubt. “It’s going to be tough. We won’t always have time for each other, and it might get frustrating.”
He nodded, his eyes earnest. “I know. But I’d rather have you in my life, even if it means we’re both busy and stressed sometimes, than not have you at all. I’ve been feeling this way for a while, and I can’t keep pretending I don’t.”
A small smile tugged at your lips. “You really mean that?”
“Absolutely,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “I love you, y/n. I’ve loved you for a long time, and I don’t want to hide that anymore. I’m ready to commit, to make it work, no matter what.”
Your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity in his voice touching you deeply. “I love you too, Hoonie. I just want to make sure we’re both ready for this. I don’t want either of us to feel pressured or overwhelmed.”
He leaned in, kissing you tenderly. “We’ll take it one day at a time. And if things get tough, we’ll talk about it. We’ll figure it out together.”
You nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
He smiled, his eyes lighting up with happiness. “Really?”
“Really,” you confirmed, snuggling closer to him. “But you have to promise me something.”
“What’s that?” he asked, his arms tightening around you.
“You have to promise that we’ll still be playful and tease each other. I don’t want us to change just because we’re official now.”
He smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Deal. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
You spent the next few moments in comfortable silence, simply enjoying the closeness. Sunghoon’s fingers resumed their gentle tracing on your back, and you felt a sense of contentment settle over you.
“I’m really glad you’re here,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Me too,” you replied, pressing a kiss to his chest. “You make me happy, Hoonie.”
He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering against your hair. “And you make me happy. So, I guess we’re pretty good for each other.”
You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “I guess we are.”
As you lay there in his arms, you knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, you’d face them together. And that was all that mattered.
1K notes · View notes
jamminvroomvroom · 5 months
Note
hi babe i’m here from the dms but. speaking of brain rot, thinking abt fwb lando again where u stay the night after and wake up in the morning expecting him to be gone already for smth work related or what not but he’s still in bed absolutely clinging to u. and then more soft sleepy morning sex 🫠🫠
play pretend.
ln x fem!reader
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in which it’s time to stop pretending…
just a little blurb to say…. HAPPY BIRTHDAY @lavenderlando !! sorry i made you wait like 6 months for this lmfao i love u girl, u mean the world to me and i hope this hits the spot 💖💖 lemme know what y’all think, more 4k requests will be worked on asap (it’s exam szn ew)
songs to set the mood: denial by james marriott, real love baby by father john misty, can i call you rose? by thee sacred souls
warnings: 18+!! minors go away! smut, morning sex, friends to lovers, best friend!reader, friends with benefits type relationship, fluff, unprotected sex (don’t be silly…)
1k words
cool air casts goosebumps over your bare skin, the open window letting in the morning breeze. you tug at the grey bedsheets, dragging them higher over your frame where you lay. you eyes are cracked open, hazily taking in the sight before you.
he’s still here.
you often expect lando to be gone when you wake up. sometimes it’s because of work, sometimes it’s because you’d promised not to do this again but alcohol had then rendered the both of you irresistible to the other, and it was too awkward to have yet another jarring conversation about how you’re such good friends.
but he’s there. and he’s looking at you.
“hi.” he croaks, soft and low. you revel in his morning voice on the rare occasions you get to hear it.
“hey.” you mumble, leaning in closer to him.
he pushes the duvet up and away, inviting you into his arms, and you wriggle towards him. he’s a human heater, and you’re cold, that’s the only reason you snuggle up, tucked between his arms.
“you’re still here.” you whisper into his chest, purposefully quiet, almost as if you don’t actually want him to hear you.
“couldn’t leave you.” he mutters quietly.
you crane your head to look up at him, eyes blown wide at the admission.
“why?”
“i hate leaving after.”
the ‘after’ hangs heavy in the air between you for a second. he’s eyeing up your lips and you’re returning the gesture, sleepy eyes flitting between his and his plush lips.
this never happens. usually, the night starts with too many drinks too quickly, progresses to his hands dropping dangerously low on your waist, leads to the pair of you mentally scarring an innocent taxi driver, and ends with you underneath him. or, on top of him. and then, he’s gone.
“for the record, i hate it when you go.” you reply, and the space between you dissipates. there are so many unsaid words being traded between you, an intense charge of energy. you’re anxiously sliding your hands up his sides, itching to feel impossibly closer.
“maybe i should stop going then, hm?” two of lando’s fingers grasp your chin, tilting it up to bump his.
“yeah.” you breathe.
it’s like he’s tugged an invisible string, and you’re melting into him, his lips slotting immaculately over yours, as if they were sculpted by god to rest against yours. he tastes familiar, it’s rare you get to kiss him sober and in the light of day. you bask in it, finding the messy, loose curls tickling the back of his neck, threading your fingers through the thick, brown strands. he groans, parting his mouth just enough for you to slide your tongue over his.
“want you. now.” you gasp urgently into the space where your lips part, your body rolling hungrily against his.
“i always want you, drives me crazy.” lando grunts, grabbing a handful of your ass and pulling you even closer.
lando slots his thigh between your legs, and you search for friction, rutting against him. you’re both naked from the blurry night before so you can feel everything, each part of him so ready for you. you’re slick for him already, can feel the way it’s painting your inner thighs. you hate how easy it is to lose yourself in him.
“take me then.” you whine, your forehead collapsing against his shoulder.
lando smirks, flipping you over so that your back is to his chest, like you’re nothing. he hooks your top leg over his, sliding himself closer to where you’re aching for him.
“can’t keep pretending.” lando whispers against the shell of your ear.
he slides deep, then, filling you to the hilt. it knocks the air out of you, your back arching at the sensation of him hitting every single spot that mattered.
“then let’s not pretend anymore.” you choke out, your head rolling back against his shoulder.
“yeah, baby? wanna be all mine?” he teases, thrusting deep and slow, the slide of him shooting pleasure over your body like the slow, satisfying drip of warm honey.
“already am, all yours.” you sigh, totally and utterly content as your nerve endings pulsed with pleasure.
“good girl.” lando praises, his voice fucked out and lovestruck.
as if he’s rewarding you for your admission, the pad of his finger slips down your navel, finding your clit. you’re soaked for him, wet and warm, and he traces circles into the bundle of nerves, each touch sending you keening back into him.
“so close.” you sound like you’re begging, pleading for him to let you finish all over him.
“gotta say please.” he nips the skin of your shoulder and you squirm, toes curling.
“please, lando.” you writhe, canting your hips back against him.
“sound so pretty for me.” he coos, peppering kisses down your neck.
his fingers speed up against your folds, working you perfectly to a sweet release. everything is still blurred by sleep, your body overly sensitive from the cool air pouring in through the window and the slumber still lodged in your bones.
“cum with me.” you slur, your eyes squeezing shut. you almost turn into him, convulsing in his arms to the point where you’d be staring into his stormy eyes if you could manage to pry yours open.
“let me see those eyes.” he commands, your entire body shuddering. you blink, staring up at him, and you both fold, meeting your ends. he looks fierce, starved, completely enamoured with every single way your face moves.
your jaw hangs agape, a choked cry stifled in the back of your throat. it’s all too much, and just about enough, huge, calloused hands roaming your body as your shake, spilling all over him.
“god.” you breathe, flopping limply against him. he stays buried inside of you, his face lost to the damp skin of the crook of your neck.
“i never would of left all those mornings if i knew this is the good morning i’d get.” lando laughs, the sound deep and wholesome. you cosy yourself up even closer to him.
“not letting you leave from now on.” you murmur, smiling to yourself when you feel his lips press against the back of your head.
“you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”
-
sorry this is soooo bad lmao i felt the urge to write something short n sweet xoxo
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rainrot4me · 3 months
Text
Keep It Rolling
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Summary: You and your friend decide to see if you can find ghosts in an abandoned asylum as you record the whole thing. When you run into Hoodie, he thinks it’d be fun to record you instead.
Characters: Hoodie x Female Reader
SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI
TW: Recording sex, bad blowjob, vaginal, threatening with a gun, pussy slapping, size difference, forcing, gagging, stretching, cream pie, size difference
Words: 3.9k
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You spent your whole life filming everything. 
It didn’t matter what. Eating breakfast, going to the store, hanging with friends, everything was caught on your little camcorder. You had an internet personality to keep up with and feeding your viewers your personal life was a hefty job. But you loved it. 
So, of course, when your best friend messaged you about some supposedly haunted mental asylum twenty minutes off the interstate, you had to get it on camera. 
The mid-autumn breeze blew through your hair as you and your friend packed your filming equipment into the back of your car, shutting the trunk before climbing into the driver's seat. The asylum wasn’t even an hour away. But as you sped down the interstate, it was like the whole atmosphere had changed. The clouds were dark, the wind blew leaves from the trees, and this ominous darkness loomed around you. 
“Where did these rain clouds come from?” Your friend mumbled, scrolling through her phone and checking the weather which didn’t offer many answers. Brushing it off, you turned down an overgrown dirt road off the highway and searched for the building. If it did start raining, there was no way you were getting your camera out of the car. And if there was no camera, there was no reason for you to go inside. But as you drove further, an overgrown sign dangled on the side of the path. ‘State Asylum for the Mentally Insane.’ Charming. It was much farther after that that you could see the run-down building come into view, boarded up windows and patches of wall missing. The decorations of the building had all but disintegrated, but the foundation and skeleton of the building still stood strong minus the crumbling sections of walls. You pulled the car as close to the end of the path as you could before the overgrown plants stopped your path. Shutting the engine off, you sat and stared at the rolling clouds swarming overhead, judging if this was a good idea or not. Obviously, you knew it wasn’t.
“Shit, whole things coming down. Wonder how much longer it's got till it completely crumbles.” Your friends laughed, hopping out of the car and opening the trunk, slinging a bag full of voice recorders over her shoulder. “I hope we don’t find out.” You joked back, sliding to the back and grabbing your camera and backpack full of batteries and hard drives. The wind howled through the building, an eerie whistling noise echoing off the decaying walls that were visible from the outside. If you couldn’t find anything haunted in there, at least you’d get some good aesthetic shots. “I say we make a lap through the building and see if we can find any particular room that feels right to set up in. Y’know, see if it feels haunted.” They laughed, slamming the trunk shut and sauntering towards the entrance, a large dark door with shattered lanterns on either side. You flipped open your camera lens, filming a good shot of your friend shoving the door open and peeking inside. You quickly followed behind, skipping up the steps and peeking inside yourself.
The entrance was dark, furniture and paintings rusted with age and tossed around on the ground. Leaves and cobwebs accented the space, giving just the right amount of old and creepy as you filmed you both entering. The wind howled through the halls as you scanned each room, discovering abandoned medical supplies, facility rooms, and rows and rows of medical beds. All of it was caught on film, the dim lighting giving just the perfect balance with the soft glow of your flashlight. This had to get you views.
When you and your friend finally decided on a spot, a recreation room fit with a stage and tables, you set your audio recorders on the tables, little blinking lights illuminating the room as you pointed the camera. Your friend pulled out their flashlight, laying it on the table and flicking it on. You angled the lens, catching their face in the glow as they began to ask questions, the eerie quietness echoing their voice. “If there are any spirits here who are wishing to make themselves known, please do so now.” Silence. Besides the settling of the old floorboards, there wasn’t a movement or sound to be made. They tried again. “We’re here to do nothing more than talk. Please don’t be afraid to communicate.” Nothing again. You were growing impatient, switching your camera between your friend and the dormant recording devices, no lights signaling activity was being captured. Your friend groaned, holding out for maybe just some noise but ultimately flipping off the flashlight and scooping the recording equipment back into their bag. “Maybe we just picked a bad room. I want to try something though.” You flipped your camera shut, breathing deep and smelling nothing but mould and concrete. “And?” 
They shuffled the bag onto their shoulder, shining their flashlight around the disheveled room. “I saw on some ghost channel they split up and went to opposite ends of their hospital and got a lot of activity. Apparently, ghosts like it when you’re alone.” They smiled, shuffling back to the hallway. “Sounds good to me,” It didn’t, but who were you to say no to some good content? “Walk to opposite ends of the building and meet back in thirty minutes?” You both nodded, turning away from each other as you trudged your way to the farthest end of the asylum. 
You felt like you had walked forever, stepping down two flights of stairs until you ended up in what you assumed to be the basement. Random trash and unorganized medical equipment littered the floor but it was charming in a way, like the place was a relic of what it used to be. The damp air surrounded you, every step echoing off the concrete walls and recording beautifully as you flipped on your camera. Cobwebs hung in every corner, more afraid of running into one than running into an actual ghost, but content was content.
You set your camera on the ground, shining your flashlight at your face as you crisscrossed in front of the lens. The hall was silent, the dark corners sending chills up your spine as you couldn’t see past where your flashlight glow went. You settled yourself, breathing deeply before calling into the darkness. “If there are any spirits here who would like to communicate, please make yourself known.” Silence. The rhythmic dripping of water from the pipes offered some relief as you listened closely, but ultimately heard nothing. You sighed, trying again. “I am only here to talk. Please make yourself known.” Nothing still. It was relieving, sort of, praying internally that you’d find nothing as you stared into the camera’s lens. Shaking your head, you gave it one final attempt before you’d decide to head back upstairs. “If any spirits wa-” 
That was when you heard it. The loud thud echoed from down the dark hallway. Fear shot through you, quickly aiming your flashlight but seeing nothing that could have made the noise. “Hello..?” You called, picking your camera up and directing it the same way. There was no response. But as you went to stand, a very clear sound of someone clearing their throat echoed. You scrambled to your feet, realizing this wasn’t going to be paranormal, but some squatter you’d accidentally run up on. Your hands were shaking but relentlessly keeping the camera trained on the hall, staring intently for any sign of motion. Deciding not to press your luck further, you quietly stepped towards the stairs, barely reaching the railing before you saw it. The tall figure of a man resting his shoulder on the wall beside you and staring straight at you. 
A scream bubbled in your throat, panic building before he was on you in a second, his large hands shoving his over your mouth and holding your head still. You gripped your equipment tightly, panicking desperately as you tried to wiggle your way out of his grasp. That all stopped as soon as you felt the gunhead press against your ribs, nudging you to be compliant. “One word and I shoot.” He huffed, his deep voice reverberating against the walls. That’s when you could see him in the glow of your flashlight. He wore a ski mask that covered every feature of his face, but had a weird face drawn on. Tears rolled down your cheeks, realizing what a heap of trouble you were in. Whining, the man released your mouth but nudged the gun deeper into your rib, forcing you to the wall behind you. His gruff demeanor shakes you. “Explain yourself. Now.” He commanded, shoving the hilt further up. You panicked, quickly answering. “Uh- My f-friend and I came to see if we c- could find ghosts. I was making, uh, a video.” You cringed, holding the camera up as it was still rolling, capturing everything that had happened so far. The man jerked the camera out of your hand, examining it before tossing it to the floor, a whine escaping you as you watched it skid against the concrete. He leaned in close to your face, his breathing mumbled by the mask. “No ghosts, huh?” He towered over you, his large frame encapsulating you easily. You shook your head awkwardly, gulping as he pulled the gun from your side but quickly repositioned it under your chin, nudging it forcefully. “Sorry sweetheart, but I’m afraid this is as far as you’ll get.” He cocked the trigger, the noise sending a full-blown panic through you as you gripped his arm. “Please! Please- oh, God, I’ll do anything,” You huffed, tears pouring heavily. “Anything you want. Money, your dick sucked, food, anything!” You pleaded, face growing red as you shook with fear. 
The man leaned back, pulling his finger off the trigger as he chuckled. “What was that second thing?” He smirked, resting his hand on his hip but not letting that gunhead leave your chin. You blushed roughly, your words betraying you as you just word-vomited something to save yourself. “I said anything.” You huffed, gritting your teeth as you felt the cold metal leave your skin, sighing deeply. 
The man holstered his gun in the back of his jeans, sauntering over to your camera on the ground and scooping it up. He wiped it off, flipping the screen open before pointing it at you. You blushed, feeling awkward on the other side of the lens for once. He chuckled, stepping closer to you as he moved the camera to the side, staring at you directly. “Well?” He grinned, focusing his gaze back on the camera screen that captured your red face, the flash accentuating your features. His mask concealed his expression making you unsure if he was being serious or not, but you didn’t want to test those waters knowing full well he had a gun.
You awkwardly knelt in front of him, the concrete wall behind you cramping you. The truth was, you had no clue what you were doing. No boyfriends made their way around to lay you, so whatever you were about to pull out of your ass: your life literally depended on it. 
You fiddled with his belt, sliding it open before nervously pulling the zipper of his jeans down. He wasn’t even half-hard in his boxers. You palmed at the bulge awkwardly, glancing up as the camera stared at you, his face peeking behind and watching you closely. Growing in your hand, you tucked your fingers under his boxers and tugged them down, his large cock barely bobbing out. It was awkward, but you took the length in your hands and slowly began to stroke, feeling it harden slowly. This was good. Nervousness pricked at your stomach as you licked at the tip. You slowly pressed the now hard length into your mouth, getting as deep as you could before pulling back. Slobber coated the length, gleaming in the flash of the camera. You leaned back in, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock and taking the rest of what you could in your mouth. It wasn’t good and you knew it. Your teeth constantly scraped against his length. Not to mention any time the tip passed your tongue you were gagging back off of it.
He was growing impatient, the half-assed attempt at head making his head hurt. You felt his hand slink up the back of your head and grip a handful of your hair, slowly guiding your head back onto his cock. “Open wide.” He commanded, holding the camera lower to get a good shot. You hung your jaw lower, gripping his jeans quickly as you felt him press into your mouth further than you knew you could take. You gagged, straining to pull your head back but he wouldn’t let you, he just kept pushing your head further. You slammed your eyes shut, tears pricking as you wrapped your lips around the thick cock deep in your mouth. He finally pulled your head back, giving you a second to breathe before you snapped his hips back into your mouth quickly. You whined, throat choking as he thrust your head on his cock quickly. He held your hair tightly as he forced himself down your throat, practically face-fucking you and not giving you a second to adjust. 
“Damn, you got a mouth on you, huh?” He huffed, shoving the camera closer to your mouth wrapping around him tightly. You groaned, eyes rolling as you gagged each time his cock pressed against the back of your throat. It was loud and vulgar, the wet sounds echoing off the walls. He refused to let up though, groaning as he held your head back. “There you go. Keep that throat open, sweetheart.” He moaned deeply, pressing your head flush against him but not pulling away. You began to panic, gripping at his jeans as you choked, no air reaching you. He chuckled, cock throbbing in your mouth at the sound of drool gurgling in your throat. He finally pulled you off his length, a loud gasp escaping you as air filled your lungs. He pulled your hair back making you stare at the camera, your flushed face and slobber-covered lips shining brightly against the flash. “God…” He let go of your hair, pumping his cock into his hand before kneeling at your level. “Yeah, I’m not done with you.” He grinned, gripping your legs pulling them out from under you and landing you on your back. He crawled over you, nudging himself between your legs as he tugged at your shirt until it bunched above your bra. He hooked his fingers under the cups, pushing them up and exposing your tits. Hands were on them in a second, massaging and pulling at the mounds. 
Your whines echoed as he pinched your nipples, pulling them roughly and kneading the buds in between his fingers. “You’ve got such a nice body sweetheart. I can’t wait to ruin it.” He scaled the camera across your body and shot your curves well. It was incredibly embarrassing. 
He pulled his hands off your nipples, leaning back to set the camera on the ground and angle it between your legs, getting a good shot of your crotch. If anything, you were impressed with his familiarity with a camera. But the other half of you cringed as he unbuttoned your pants and slid them off your legs, giving the camera a clear shot of your damp panties. His fingers rubbed at the spot, his thumb pressing roughly against your clit and making you squirm. You reached down quickly, grabbing his wrist. That wasn’t going to happen. He immediately grabbed your wrists in return, pinning your hands above your head and relishing the way your body arched in defiance. “Calm down, huh? Relax…” He grinned, sliding your panties off your hips with his right hand and sliding his fingers up your folds, collecting your arousal. Pressing your legs open, he spread your folds the same, the cold air making your clit twitch. “Such a pretty cunt…” He groaned, spreading your lips and spitting against your hole, making you squirm.
He rubbed his fingers against your entrance, circling the area as you arched your back, silently begging for him to slide them in. That was when you saw his hand reach back and quickly slap down on your cunt, a sharp sting hitting you. You gasped, his hand slapping you again before you could even say anything. His palm continued to connect with your cunt, rubbing the area roughly before bringing his hand back to slap down again. You were a whining mess, every sting and slap making you so much wetter. The squelching sounds your cunt made every time his palm reached was embarrassing, your moans mixing and creating an insanely lewd noise. “God! Please…” You whined, squeezing your knees closer and trapping his hand against your cunt. He chuckled, giving in and pressing his fingers into your soaked entrance, a loud squelch echoing. You groaned, his fingers reaching deeply inside of you and curling just the right way. When he began to pump his fingers, it was all you could do not to scream your pleasure. Your throbbing clit ached as his fingers curled against your walls, each curl causing them to clench down. His thick fingers worked you open, your squirming body being easily held down by his muscled arms. Your orgasm came incredibly fast, your walls tightening around his fingers as they stretched your entrance wide and became soaked with your ecstasy. 
He pulled his fingers out sharply and brought them to the hem of his mask as he slid it up just above his nose. He licked his fingers of your arousal, smiling at you as he took them down to the knuckle. Your eyes frantically glanced at the camera lens, the flash blinding you as you begged the battery would magically die and none of this would be recorded. No luck. “Damn sweetheart, you think that cunt’s ready for me yet?” He grinned, pulling his mask back down and wrapping his hands around your ankles, pulling you quickly to rest your thighs on top of his. His cock was twitching and angry, the head pulsing as he pumped it in his hands. He let it rest on your tummy. You glance down, head spinning as you realize just how big he is. “Oh, I’m gonna be in there.” He chuckled, releasing your wrists to scoop his hands under your hips and angle them up. He nudged the head of his cock against your entrance, leaning down to meet his face with your as he breathed deeply. “Try to not scream, yeah?” 
Before you could question why, he slammed your hips down onto his length. The rough stretch and sting of him entering you so abruptly made you cry out, tears leaking down your cheeks. He didn’t wait. Either because he couldn’t or because he didn’t care. His hips snapped into you quickly, fingers digging into your bare hips as he forced your hips to connect with his. “Shit-” He was grunting with every thrust, heavily breathing behind the mask. Your moans and cries matched his, every nudge of his cock against your walls making your back arch and jaw hang open. It was dizzying. He was perched on his knees, holding your hips off the ground and fucking into you like some fleshlight. 
Every tug at his hands and pull at his jacket went unnoticed as you clawed against him, trying your hardest to find some stability as your body was being rammed against. Your cunt throbbed with every squelch and slap, your walls constricting around the thick length invading inside of you. The camera caught it all, angled perfectly to see every inch of his cock sink into your cunt as he thrust quickly. It caught every lewd moan, every slap of skin. The tears were rolling down your cheeks, the sting and stretch of him mixing with the absolute pleasure slamming into you. “Fuck, so tight. Gonna milk me dry, sweetheart.” He huffed, repositioning for a split second before angling his hips up to ram into your g-spot. You screamed out, hand reaching for your clit as you rubbed in pace with his thrusts up into you.
That’s when he grabbed the camera, angling it down directly at your cunt as he sunk into you quickly. “Cum on my cock. Yeah, let me see it.” He moaned, shoving your hand out of the way to press his own fingers against your clit, rubbing quick and rough. You slapped your hands over your face, eyes rolling as you felt your orgasm rushing against you. The masked man was moaning louder, little whines escaping his lips as his own pace became sloppy. “Cum all over me, sweetheart.” He groaned. It sent you over, waves of pleasure crashing into you quickly as he refused to let off of your clit. You screamed out, arching your back against his fingers as he rubbed your orgasm out. Walls around his cock constricted, milking him as he held the camera close, the flash catching every drop of sweat and arousal that mixed on you. He bottomed out against you, moaning loudly as he released deep into your cunt. 
The room went quiet apart from your panting. The camera caught it all, each pulse of his cock as he filled you full, your hands gripping tightly against his wrist as he held his thumb over your clit. He slowly pulled out, hissing as you felt the stretch of him. When his head popped out, he moved the camera down, catching every second as his seed leaked out of you. “Did so good sweetheart. Took me so good.” He huffed, sliding his fingers through your folds and spreading his release across your cunt, making you squirm. He pressed his fingers into your swallowed entrance, pressing his seed back in. When he pulled them out, he flipped the camera shut, turning the flash off and setting it back on the ground. 
Finding your panties, he slid them back on you and relished as he watched them soak darker. He helped you button your pants back, pulling your shirt down and helping you stand. Handing you the camera, he laughed at your hazy expression, your heavy eyes and swollen cheeks evident of your fucked out cunt. “Thanks, sweetheart, now run along before I change my mind.” He huffed, turning back to the dark hallway and waving you off. “Good luck with your ghosts.” You nodded, frantically turning back to the steps and rushing up to the fresh air. It hadn’t been long, but as you listened closely and heard the sound of heavy rain, you trudged to the other side of the asylum and found your friend just as hopeless as you left them.
“Did you find anything? I had a whole lot of nothing.” They sighed, leading you to the entrance and out to the car as you tried to hide your equipment from the rain. “Nah. Nothing interesting.” You sighed, climbing into the driver's seat and speeding off back down the dirt path. 
When you eventually made it home, you sprinted to your laptop and shoved the SD card in, loading up the video. Your hand covered your mouth as you watched the scene unfold, arousal growing in your pants again as you felt the leak of the masked man’s seed against your folds. 
The video played through, every squelch and moan sending shivers through you as your hand slid down between your legs, rubbing lazily as you rewatched his cock sink inside of you. 
You’d have to go ghost hunting more often.
Comments are reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹
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mariasont · 3 months
Text
GOOD LUCK CHARM - A.H
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a/n: this came to me yesterday and i sat my ass down and WROTE
that should be me fr
masterlist
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pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader
summary: reader is gone for the morning and leaves hotch a couple sticky notes
warnings: just my babies being so infatuated with each other it literally hurts, hotch is a pining fool, i love him, i need him, i want to kidnap him to my basement
wc: 0.8k
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Hotch was having a rough day. He had never put much stock in the idea of luck, favoring the belief that a path was carved from the choices made. However, if he were to entertain the notion of luck, he would concede that today, he seemed to be rather out of it.
A lot had gone wrong. For starters, he had stained his favorite white dress shirt with coffee this morning. This undoubtedly set the precedent for the day, he was sure.
As soon as he arrived at his office, he was greeted not by the familiar click of the lock but by a stubborn door that refused to budge, his key sitting on the side table in his apartment. This then led to him reaching out to the custodian for a spare, only to be intercepted by Chief Strauss, who, in her usual fashion, had a litany of critiques ready for the BAU.
The day had been steadily unraveling, and the realization that you wouldn't be in until lunch because of a doctor's appointment was the tipping point. Normally, all these minor irritations could be overlooked, but in your absence, he could truly grasp just how much he relied on you.
You handled a lot on his plate, if not everything. You planned out his schedule, answered his phone calls, you double-checked his paperwork. You consistently shouldered more than he ever asked, despite his repeated warnings about overloading yourself--warnings that he, admittedly, never listened to.
Time seemed to crawl at a snail's pace. He found himself unwittingly watching the door, anticipating the bright burst of pink and the shimmer that accompanied you, but unfortunately that did not happen. Lunch couldn't come quick enough.
His vision began to waver, the words on the page melting into an indecipherable stew as he pressed a long finger into his temples. The lamp at the edge of the desk flickered capriciously. A mental note to replace it was quickly overshadowed by the more pressing need for an aspirin, prompting him to reach for the left drawer.
His eyes widened imperceptibly, fingers reaching into the space as he pulled the flimsy object from the drawer. It was a hot pink sticky note, its surface alive with glittery ink, smiley faces, and hearts. The corners of his mouth lifted, the tension in his back easing just a hair.
Aspirin isn't in this drawer silly! First one to your right! And don't take more than 2, okay? Between that and your scotch drinking habits your liver is screaming!!!!
He couldn't suppress the laughter that rumbled through him as he pressed the note to his desk. He turned to the drawer on his right, pulling it open to find, much to his satisfaction, the aspirin. Attached to it was yet another sticky note.
You found it!! So proud!! Hope your day is going amazingly! Don't miss me too much! :)
His heart thumped louder in his chest, a wave of heat blossoming across his neck as he carefully folded the sticky notes, tucking them into the pocket of his suit jacket.
When you finally came ambling into the office--your ponytail swaying, a pink ribbon securing it in place--he felt an instant lift in his mood. His jaw relaxed, fingers instinctively straightening his tie--a needless act but one that gave him a moment to admire you. You looked beautiful. You always did, but as he fingered the note in his pocket, he could feel his chest constrict just looking at you.
"Hi there, Mr. Boss Man," you sang out, voice as sweet as syrup as you glided towards him with an ease that defied that height of your heels. "The office didn't burn down without me, did it?"
"It came close."
"Flattery will get you everywhere," you giggled, the bracelets on your arms tinkling like wind chimes as you wrapped them around your notebook. "You look stressed. Are you stressed?"
"I'm fine, just a headache." He paused, his hand absentmindedly reaching again for the sticky note. "How was your doctor's appointment?"
"Squeaky clean bill of health." You beamed at him, shifting your weight to your toes. "Did you see my note?"
"I did. Thank you." A grin was vying for control of his features while his hand found its way to his neck, pressing lightly in a vain effort to steady his racing pulse.
"You're so very welcome," you chimed, sending him a smile that nearly made the air evaporate from his lungs. "Also, I fixed a couple issues in your calendar, and I ordered you a new lamp, I noticed yours was broken. I hope that's okay."
More than okay. You were perfect. If he were a man who believed in luck, he would be inclined to think you might be his good luck charm.
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taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @freyy253 @broadwaytraaaaash
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