#anyway ily blue 🥺️💙

[soleilnomoon]

Kaia my darling!!!!! Congrats on your milestone!!!

Can I get strawberries with a mai tai, and songs 8 bubblegum, 16 bonfire, and 44. “I’m sorry have we met?” for either sanji, law, or rayleigh?

Please and thank you! 💕

hiiiiii bb 🤩 okay so i picked rayleigh bc hello i love that man obsessively 🤭 this was my first time writing a full fic for him so i was v excited, ty ty 💙 and even tho fluff tries to claim my life every time i write it, i persevered (for u, this is me proposing obvy~) anyway i had fun!! 🥰️

1.3k words (i tried, i tried to keep it under 1k, i failed so bad), gn reader, sfw (just slightly suggestive yk the vibes babey), 18+ mdni; fluff!!!!!!! and maybe, maybe, a tiny tiny bit of angst maybe. just maybe. feat. reader wanting to be a lone wolf, rayleigh who is just v social when alcohol is involved, denial (of feelings and attraction, sort of), it's not cheating bc... well it's not. no real warnings, there's alcohol and a beach and a bonfire. the moon is a paid actress, the ocean is a special guest <3 i, too, would be flustered like crazy around rayleigh, he's got bde 💛 (if u see spelling/grammar errors no u didn't bb)

solitude haunts you without remorse — heavy, daunting, an eerie melody that saturates your world. gray and unending, with a curtain so thick that it obscures your vision most days. it nestles itself in the grooves of the footprints you leave behind in the wet sand along the shore, the ocean water kissing the bottom of your feet as the tide ebbs and flows with practiced ease. you pause in your slow gait and allow the water to wash over your feet over and over before moving forward.

you don’t have a particular destination in mind, you simply wanted to be away from the noise of the sea-faring town you decided to visit. and while you don’t actively seek out solitude, it still follows you around, blending into your shadow, but there’s a comfort in its presence.

because, then, you’re never truly alone, are you?

partially obscured, a waning crescent moon illuminates the ocean, glowing brightly; another comfort that pushes aside that empty, aching feeling in your chest. the ripples in the water are mesmerizing and hypnotic, but you don’t fall prey to its machinations — you don’t let the barely audible melodies of the lurking sirens tempt you into walking closer.

if anything, you give yourself some distance.

there’s a small gathering nearby, the partygoers beckoning you with their promises of drinks and good food. if your traitorous stomach didn’t gurgle so loudly, you would have been able to refuse without issue.

still, it doesn’t hurt to eat, especially when everything smells rich and enticing, strong enough to make your mouth water. you watch the crowd around you, their infectious laughter seeps into your skin, a small flicker of warmth igniting to jumpstart your heart.

this is nice, you tell yourself before taking out a piece of bubblegum from your bag and chewing on it. you don’t particularly like this brand or flavor — much too sweet and a little thick — but you need something to do, and chewing gum helps calm you, surprisingly enough.

silvers rayleigh has never been fond of rooting himself in one, singular place; the desire to roam, to investigate the wonders of the world, to meet and experience life through people — it overwhelms him constantly. to combat that impulse, he sticks to roaming nearby islands, accidentally stumbling upon the same coastal town you find yourself in.

and again it’s pure coincidence that leads him to take the empty chair closest to you. he doesn’t bother with the flask he has, opting to graciously accept the free drinks from the revelers nearby. the brandy is sweet, but crisp — something he’s not too accustomed to, but it puts him at ease all the same. it’s when you pucker your lips and exhale to blow your bubblegum into a decent sized bubble, that he takes notice of you.

well, no—that’s a lie.

he already did notice you, in town earlier. you still have that same, dazed look in your eyes, the same melancholy that inadvertently acts as a small shield to protect you from others draped along your shoulders. you’re not a case study, he knows that, but that doesn’t keep him from observing you all the same.

it’s something stronger than morbid curiosity, and the more he drinks, the closer he comes to discovering the truth in that.

the bubble pops unceremoniously, the saccharine scent is much stronger than he thought it’d be; even as he steadies his breathing, it’s almost as the wind is working against him, keeping him rooted in the chair as he’s bombarded with the playful, artificial smell of strawberry and cherry all in one.

it’s much more pleasant than he thought it would be.

you’re not the best at observing your surroundings, but you’re not completely helpless — especially not when the man next to you is so boldly looking at you without remorse or shame. you chew on the fruity bubblegum thoughtfully and turn towards him unprompted.

a coy smile hangs onto his lips, the corners of his mouth curling upward as thinly veiled amusement flits about on his face.

“i’m sorry,” you say softly, in between chews, “have we met?”

the question is valid, and he should probably answer you, but he finishes his drink instead and waves someone down to pour him another.

with furrowed brows, you watch him quietly, taking in the sharp angle of his jaw and admiring the way he savors each sip of his drink. a peculiar silence surrounds both of you, and when he looks your way again, his eyes sweep over you once — almost like an intimate touch between lovers — and you suddenly remember that you’ve been holding your breath, waiting for him to answer you.

he takes his time, though, the tip of his tongue briefly gliding onto his lip —because wasting even a single drop of brandy is irresponsible, in his opinion. it’s with clarity and certainty that he tells you, “no.”

the answer isn’t surprising, and you’re not sure what you expected him to say. his voice is deep and rich, with a huskiness that completely suits his rugged demeanor. you don’t know what to do with that feeling, because for some reason, you feel as though you should know him. one after another, thoughts infiltrate the darkest parts of your mind, reviving you with a startling reminder that your heart — as pitiful and naïve as it is — still works perfectly fine.

in fact, it’s working a little too hard right now, beating louder with each passing second. you almost rub at your chest, but refrain from doing so, and blow another bubble to take your mind off it all.

“but,” he continues, as if he didn’t leave you in limbo for the longest sixty seconds of your life, “does that matter?”

he’s playing a dangerous game, he knows that, but rayleigh loves the high that comes with the risk of gambling. it’s invigorating and fresh, much more interesting than coating ships on the sabaody archipelagos.

it’s alluring, the confidence he exudes. his attractiveness is offensive and wholly unavoidable, which annoys you. it’s irrational, you know, you know but the longer you look at him, the more you yearn to get out of your chair and—

you cut yourself off completely from that thought and chew, chew, chew. maybe if you fill your senses with the taste of the bubblegum, you’ll distract yourself from his presence. he’s completely certain you’ll continue to allow him the pleasure of conversation, much to your inevitable dismay.

solitude is safer, you tell yourself. it’s what you’ve always known, but an unnecessary flush stains your cheeks and the heat makes it impossible to look at him for much longer.

“i suppose it really doesn’t matter,” you manage to say, and with great difficulty you force yourself to look at him again and find that he’s never once took his eyes off you.

the intensity behind his gaze is unnerving, but welcomed; a contradictory feeling, but there’s something overtly calming about his presence. so you let yourself step out of your comfort zone and allow him into your space, to pick your brain on various topics without restraint.

he’s normally not this chatty, preferring to drink and fool around — as talking requires a level of vulnerability that he’s not interested in giving. but with you, he finds it incredibly easy to do so — even allowing you to ask him questions about himself and the adventures he’s had on the sea. you get more animated as the night goes on, the bonfire still burning fierce and keeping you warm.

rayleigh’s voice drizzles onto your skin, his words smooth and suggestive without even trying. normally you wouldn’t entertain a man like this, but you’re trapped in his orbit, his aura prompting you to scoot your chair closer, so you can talk to him more privately. he’s completely enchanted by you — with your animated expressions, with the way you talk with your hands a lot, with how you keep leaning closer and closer to him. if you knew just how cute and charming you were, he might be in trouble.

thankfully, you don’t.

and while he already has someone that occupies the majority of his heart, he’s starting to think that he wouldn’t mind making space for someone like you.