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wileys-russo · 8 months

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childhood sweethearts (1) II a.russo x reader

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this is part one to a lil multi part fic i've been working on, sequels and prequels to come

childhood sweethearts II a.russo x reader

"and you promise you'll not burn yourself out again right darling?" you sighed at the obvious concern present in your mums voice on the other end of the phone line. "yes mother i've learnt and i've grown and i'm doing all the self care things!" you cheered sarcastically, switching to hands free as you moved to stir your dinner.

"ha ha ha. i think you forget that i still know where you live and i have no issues just popping in every now and then to check on-" the older woman began to threaten as your eyes widenened.

"okay okay there's no need for that mum! i'm doing well, i promise." you responded a lot more sincerely as the woman on the other end simply hummed. "this school and my workload is a lot less intense, really! my colleagues are very friendly, my boss is approachable and i love my class. better?" you sighed as you switched off your stove and began to dish yourself up a bowl.

"and it's brought you back closer to home, my favourite part!" your mum cheered as you playfully rolled your eyes.

"yes it has however i maintain that i have boundaries mum. you, lily and harry are only welcome to visit with an invitation." you warned, half serious and half joking as you grabbed your phone and moved to the living room, sinking down into the sofa.

"yes you made that very clear, feeling very loved darling." "you know i love you ever so dearly mum but i also love my own space."

"oh god i almost forgot. you'll never guess who i ran into the other day!" your mum suddenly gasped making you chuckle, if you'd even tried guessing you could have been stuck on the phone with her for hours, your mothers social circle seemingly never ending.

it used to be a point of contention for you in your youth, hating the way you were seemingly forever pulled away to dinners or parties or barbeques, having to beg your parents to leave once it grew late in the night and your social battery had long hit its max.

as your siblings grew older they were always excused from going to these elaborate social events and you'd beg to be given that same privilege but as the youngest that was one thing you coudn't talk your way out of.

though once your dad passed you watched that break her down to nothing, seemingly just a shell of the woman she once was when he was alive and all was well.

but with time you grew to watch your mother pick herself back up slowly and start to rebuild her own support net. recconecting with her inner circle after isolating herself from the outside world for so long, it warmed your heart and was something you would forever encourage for her.

knowing that the older woman would always thrive and be at her best as a social butterfly and the hostess with the mostess, it had helped her to heal.

"if i guessed we could be here for hours and i have an island full of gorgeous single airheads and a bowl of pasta calling my name, so who did you run into?" you chuckled, shoveling in a mouthful of food as you awaited her answer.

"carol russo!" you choked at her words, spitting out the pasta you'd half chewed and breaking out into a coughing fit, scrambling for the glass of water on the coffee table.

"oh honestly i wish you'd learn to chew before you swallow, the food isn't going to disappear!" your mum scolded you as you finally caught your breath again.

"oh i'm grand mum, thank you for your concern!"

"anyway. well i've not seen her for years as you'd know and then there i was just browsing the strawberries, i needed some for a new crumble recipe i'm trying, and there she was, just grabbing a bunch of carrots!" you had to withhhold the urge to laugh at the way your mother told stories and just how animated she'd become, so fixated on the small details as she basically told you their entire conversation and coincidentally revealed her entire shopping list as she went.

"so we're all going out for a meal on thursday to catch up properly." you hummed, only half listening at this point. "that sounds nice." you mumbled, flicking through the tv.

"so you'll be there then? i said half past six since i know you're normally home from work around five." now that had you tuning back in. "wait, you what?" you directed your full attention back to the conversation.

"dinner with the russo's. half past six at paradiso, your brother and sister already said yes." your mum repeated as your stomach dropped and you fell silent. "darling did you hear me?"

"yeah i did. but look mum i have lesson planning to do and that's a school night and-" "oh y/n please! carol made such a point to ask how you've been and how much she'd love to see you. i know you and lessi drifted apart but you're both adults now darling i'm sure you can find some common ground, and the two of you used to be inseparable."

and there it was.

you could have just maybe deluded yourself into thinking that there was a slight chance the youngest russo wouldn't be present, perhaps you'd get lucky and she would be too busy off being a european football superstar.

but now you knew she'd be there the pit of worry and dread forming in your stomach only widened, quickly going from a small hole to a gaping chasm as the nerves already settled in at the thought of speaking with her after so many years apart.

"actually no you know what darling i don't care if you're an adult now, you're going. no arguments!" your mum decided, hastily excusing herself and stating she couldn't wait to see you, ending the call before you could utter another word.

"oh god, get it together! they're just regular people and its just one dinner." you mumbled to yourself with a shake of your head as you fixed your hair in your rear view mirror for the fifth time, sinking into your seat with a long exhale.

you jumped and let out a yell of shock as someones knuckles rapped against your window, an all too familiar toothy grin shining down at you as you grabbed your bag and popped open your door.

"shortstack!" giorgio cheered, surprising you as he scooped you up into a bearhug. "well, maybe not so much anymore." he placed you back down as he looked you up and down with a beaming smile.

"hi gio." you laughed fondly, hugging him again as he squeezed you, having been just like another brother to you as you'd grown up, it seemed he hadn't changed a bit.

"still shorter than me though, and definitely shorter than lessi." the boy teased as you felt a wave of nausea wash over you as the realization once again sank in you'd be seeing her again after all these years.

"so its been years, how have you been?" the italian laughed, throwing an arm over your shoulder as you briefly caught him up on what you were doing now as he did the same, the two of you wandering into the familiar restaurant.

"hasn't changed eh?" he chuckled as the both of you looked around, fondly recalling memories of all the dinners your combined families would have here throughout your childhood, the same owners still preserving its legacy and charm years and years later.

"hey, i was really sorry to learn about your dad. he was a good man, one of the best." the boy gently grabbed your arm and tugged you to the side a little, genuine sorrow in his eyes at the words as your lips pressed together and you nodded.

pity, you hated pity.

"thanks gio." you squeezed his shoulder with a small smile as the two of you resumed your chatter and you spotted the rest of your families already gathered together at a large table up the back, the same table you'd always sat at.

it seemed the two of you were the last to arrive as cheers erupted and you both made your rounds saying hello, without even needing to look to your right you could feel a certain blondes eyes burning holes in the side of your head, but you weren't quite ready to accept that just yet.

"sweetheart look at you! absolutely beautiful." carol beamed, pulling you into a very tight hug after you'd finished once again being lifted into the air both by mario and luca, seemingly an italian tradition as thats how it had always been for you with the men of the russo household.

"its so lovely to see you again carol, mum was delighted to have bumped into you, i know she's missed you since it all happened." you admitted softly, the older woman nodding in understanding and rubbing your back comfortingly.

though the gesture was not anything new it did send your heart racing, as you knew another russo who was fond of that exact same thing and at the seemingly simply action a million memories came crashing down onto you and your knees buckled slightly.

doing your best to shake them off you greeted your own siblings and mum, and then without anyone else to use as a buffer you found yourself having to take a seat, and of course the only seat free would be next to her.

your stomach dropped as finally you had no choice but to look at her, the girl thankfully caught up in conversation with your sister sitting across from her you found her eyes no longer gazed back at you.

it presented you with a small fleeting moment to actually take her in.

long gone was the grubby ten year old brunette who would tackle you to the ground and sit on you to paint your face with mud after she'd spent the afternoon kicking footballs at your head, now sat before you was a woman.

you knew she'd forgone her natural hair colour for the bottle blonde, in fact you'd been the very first person she told the moment she even started to consider it. you'd gone with her to the salon for her appointment, showering her with praise at her new cut and colour which she'd clearly stuck with over the years.

gone was the baby fat which once rounded out her face, her features though still soft had become more defined over time, and you couldn't help but allow your eyes the luxury of roaming her incredibly toned arms which sat on full display, likely attributed to the hours she dedicated to training every day.

she had always been strong physically, easily able to overpower you during countless wrestling matches in your early youth, or pinning you down on her bed to steal the breath from your very lungs with a searing kiss in your teenage years, forever teasing you to no end at all the ways she bettered you in strength.

sat with one leg crossed over the other you marvelled at the tight fitting dress which adorned the curvature of her body, another thing that grubby ten year old alessia would have scoffed at, forever foregoing fancy dress ups and heels for football boots and a tattered hand me down manchester united jersey.

of course over the years you'd grown up together there was changes within you both, the biggest of everything being the fact you realized you loved one another in a way best friends shouldn't, thinking about one another the way the rest of your friends spoke about liking boys.

it was how the two of you had wound up being one anothers first everything, though that was a secret reserved only for the two of you to share, and one that would take much more time than a quick dinner for you to really unpack.

so swallowing down the hard lump in your throat at the cascading emotions washing over you, you screamed at your legs to move and cleared the distance between you and her, your sisters eyes flickering toward you alerting alessia the chair beside her would no longer be vacant.

sneaking a glance up toward you she had to stop herself from gasping. much like your own observations, to alessia gone was the shy smiley ten year old she'd chased around her backyard every afternoon and sat giggling for hours with tucked away in pillow forts on rainy days, replaced instead with a well spoken and quite frankly drop dead gorgeous woman looking to her expectantly.

alessia quickly stood to her feet, wincing at the obnoxious scrape of her chair against the hard wood floor, the two of you sizing one another up clearly unsure how to proceed.

"hi." you started softly, alessia swooning at the dimples which hadn't left you over the years, your nose still scrunching slightly as it always had when you smiled.

"hey." the striker managed to force out with her own nervous smile, the two of you hesitating for a moment, clearly both ticking over if a hug was the next most appropriate step.

though right as alessia began to move closer, arms ready to envelop your shorter form, it seemed the decision had been made for both of you as servers arrived.

handing out menus and starting to take drink orders meant the two of you dropped down into your seats, refusing to look one another in the eye as you spoke to everyone and anyone but each other.

alessia ordering a glass of white wine with a grateful smile her ears perked up and a slight frown appeared on her face as you murmured to the man you were content to stick with water.

"let me guess, no drinking on a school night?" your older sister lily had mocked with a teasing grin as you rolled your eyes at her over the lip of your glass.

"oh yes your mum was telling me you're teaching now! and you've just gotten back from working abroad?" carol tuned in at that point, seated beside your sister as you nodded.

"yeah i was in australia for two years teaching, i actually only got back a few weeks ago and started a position here in a local school." you confirmed with a smile, alessia glancing toward you with a look of surprise at the new information.

“oh that’s just wonderful, I can see you’d be the most amazing teacher. what age?” carol complimented sincerely as you sent her a grateful smile, you’d definitely found the right work for you and you adored your job so you always appreciated when it was picked up on by others.

“I was teaching grade five in australia but my class here now are only second years which is a bit of a change.” you answered with a chuckle, it had definitely been an adjustment but you honestly preferred it to how things had been overseas.

"got over your fear of planes then if you made it in one piece to australia?" luca chimed in with a wink as you waved him off, having always had a paraylsing fear of aircraft it had taken a lot for you to board that final plane away from everything you knew.

but with a new adventure awaiting and having done about as much preparation as one girl could do, once you were in the air it relieved you to know it actually wasn't all that bad.

"lessi just got back from australia, well we all did actually what a place it is. and what a shame we didn't know you were living there at the time!" mario added with a regretful smile before returning to his conversation with your brother.

"yes i was sorry to see how that ended for you lessi, you played brilliantly though! lil and i watched most of the games, footy for breakfast." your mum beamed, alessia unable to not share a grin with the woman, her happiness always having been infectious just as yours was, it wasn't hard to see where you got it from.

"y/n was at the semi finals too, in person." your brother harry chimed in as your face paled, having hoped this wouldn't come up as you felt ocean blue eyes pierce into the side of your head. "you were?" alessia's voice was soft and laced with surprise, and you were sure you were the only one who had heard her as you nodded.

"our school was given a handful of tickets by one of the parents who sits on the FA board, so i went with a few other teachers. the only english woman among a huddle of australians i wasn't the most popular on the train ride home or at work that next day!" you joked, cheeks flushed slightly red at all the eyes on you, grateful once the conversation seemed to shift to another topic.

but alessia wasn't quite finished with it yet.

"i wish i'd known you were there." the blonde admitted quietly, sparing a glance toward you as you stiffened. "you scored the winner, i didn't miss that." you replied softly, messing about with your fingers and staring down at the table as alessia's wine arrived.

she downed it in one go, tapping the server and murmuring for another as he nodded and took her glass away, the blondes head buzzing with the much needed liquid confidence.

"did your friends need to explain the rules to you?" alessia smiled, her tone now much lighter as you shared a look, own lips curling upwards at what she was insinuating.

"mostly just how offside works and what the hell VAR was." you joked, seemingly relaxing a little more in your chair as alessia did the same. "i see your ever growing passion for football hasn't changed then." the older girl teased sarcastically, ring clad fingers drumming against the table.

despite it being her one true love you couldn't have cared less about the sport, the only reason you feigned any interest was not to upset her or have her feel unsupported, and so you allowed her to teach you the rules of the sport so you would appreciate every game you sat at to watch her play, and you hardly ever missed a single one.

though that also never ever stopped her from forcing you to stand between the posts as she and her brothers fired shot after shot at you.

you’d often run off after a few minutes of being hammered and your best friend would chase you down, dragging you back to the goal and demanding you try to stop at least one of her shots and she would switch with you and let you kick at her instead.

it was safe to say you never did manage to get a turn at playing striker.

"could say the same for you, champion of europe now isn't it? bit of a step up from winner of the backyard round robins one on one with your brothers." your shoulder nudged into hers slightly, setting alessias entire body on fire just from the marginal contact, something she'd not felt in years.

"seems we have a lot to catch up on then." alessia smiled, your stomach erupting into butterflies at the slight rasp of her voice, scolding yourself for such feelings as you settled again.

"well six years is quite a long time."

though alessia was hyper aware of all of the physical changes within you, it warmed her to see there were still some things which stuck around all the same over the time you'd spent apart.

"some things don't change do they." the blonde murmured with an amused smile seeing you pick out every single tomato from your side salad, subtly moving them to an awaiting napkin as you blushed having been caught out.

growing up you’d always do the same, normally not much of a picky eater but what you didn’t like you didn’t like. thankfully for you though the blonde beside you ate like a hoover growing up with how much physical energy she exerted daily, especially in her early teen years. and would always take whatever you didn’t want, making sure her mum never noticed as you were determined not to have her think you didn’t like anything she prepared for you.

"here." alessia chuckled, reaching out to grab the small handful of tomato’s you'd collected and depositing them on her own plate, in turn dropping a few of her roast potatos onto your own in a silent exchange, shutting down your protests with a firm look.

"thanks." you smiled gratefully, conversation turning toward alessia now as everyone picked at their food. "so arsenal then less? big shift from you as a die hard united fan." your brother joked though knowing the girl as you did you didn't miss the way a small frown of discomfort flickered across her face.

but as soon as it was there it had disappeared again and she was chattering away about how happy she was with her new club, and admittedly you tuned out a little bit as your mind wandered to your lesson planning for tomorrow.

"hm?" you hummed as you heard your name, shooting back down to earth and rejoining the conversation. "head in the clouds still sweetheart!" carol teased as you laughed nervously, apologizing for your lack of focus and asking your mum to repeat herself.

"we were just saying that lessi's new place is quite close to yours." the older woman smiled with a look in her eye you didn’t like, sipping at her wine as you forced a smile. "oh is it? thats nice." you nodded, looking anywhere than at alessia who you knew was waiting for you to say something more.

though when you didn't the conversation turned once again and you exhaled slightly, however of course the conversation had shifted to what you and alessia were like as children, your mums swapping story after story which frankly sent your head into a spin.

you abruptly stood, excusing yourself to go to the bathroom as you started to feel a little overwhelmed, alessia's eyes following yours with a concerned frown. "go make sure she's okay lessi." her mum ordered, shooting down her protests with a stern look and shooing her away as the blonde sighed and got to her feet, following after you.

she hesitated on the handle for the bathroom, she was almost certain she'd had a hand in why you left the table in the first place so would her coming to check in on you even really help anything?

she mulled it over for a moment, hand still on the handle before she shook her head, deciding against it and taking a step away. though no sooner had she made up her mind was it changed for her as the door opened and you'd come striding out, smacking into the blonde whose hands grabbed at you.

though with her notoriously clumsy nature she found her footing slipped and she was sent tumbling to the floor, accidentally taking you down with her as your bum smacked against the concrete with a wince.

"fuck, i'm so sorry." alessia blurted out as her face burnt red in embarrassment, hurrying to her feet and offering you a hand up. "it's fine." you smiled politely, the blonde frowning at just how quickly you dropped her hand once you were back on your feet, attempting to step around her to return to the table.

"wait." her strong hands landed on your hips, spinning you around as your eyes widened and alessia realized her mistake, hastily snatching away her hands and stepping back, mumbling an apology.

"you said to wait?" you reminded, eyebrow raised clearly giving her the opportunity to say whatever she had intended. "oh. can we get a coffee sometime? to catch up." alessia forced out, grateful for the few glasses of wine in her system that allowed her to swallow the nerves which threatened to drown her.

"alessia-" you started and the striker could tell right away from your tone and furrowed eyebrows that you were angling for a no. she had to swallow her wounded pride at the realisation you were also the only one at the entire table who'd not called her a single nickname all night, and if she was honest you were really the only one who she wanted to.

"please." the blonde almost begged, her hand reaching out for yours again but pausing midway as you ever so slightly retreated, fingers falling dejectedly back to her side as you sighed.

"alessia i really don't know if-"

"we were best friends for a lot longer than anything else went on. i want to hear about what you've been up to, properly. not just a few awkward sentences at a dinner you clearly don't even want to be at."

you hated her for how well she knew you and could clearly still read you like a book, despite the length of time it had been since she'd even seen picked up and glanced at the cover.

"i've missed you."

and there it was, the three word confession seemingly innocent however it was enough to drive a metal spike right through your insides, and had you wishing you could curl into a ball and be swallowed up by the floor right about now.

"please? it would just be two old friends getting a coffee, catching each other up about the last six years of their lives. completely normal!" alessia tried again this time with a joking smile, desperately trying to ease the fast mounting tension arising between the two of you.

you had to respect her efforts, the taller girl rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet nervously, hands rubbing at the material of her dress desperate to try and wipe them dry, her skin soft and clammy at the sight of you in front of her again after so long.

"okay."

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part two

#alessia russo x reader #woso blurbs #woso x reader #alessia russo #woso imagine #engwnt #woso #woso fanfics

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honeymaki · 4 months

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𝘐 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘥𝘮𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 .｡.:*･

Warnings: mentions of bodily harm, oral sex (f → receiving), penetrative sex, creampie, unneeded religious themes, mentions of body hair; reader has a hydro vision and is from Inazuma.

Words: 6k

Characters: Cyno; mentions of Tighnari as a reluctant tutor.

→ Notes: this is my first fic in honest to god years, proper thought out all consuming insane in the head fic; and I am proud of this.

The heat of Sumeru was different to the heat of Inazuma, the sweet smelling summers and the cool touch of the vast ocean on your toes were now just memories wisping like the steam that rose from streams, and the breeze that picked up the morning dew drops from leaves larger and thicker than any you had ever seen.

Inazuma summers meant blue ice pops and sweet milk beverages, lounging in you underclothes on the veranda, fanning yourself and whoever was your companion for the day, sucking on juicy melon slices and watching the fishermen bring in their catch of the day down by the shore, the crystal waves just beckoning you in for a much needed swim. The heat there was bearable, almost, with the promise of a fiery red autumn to follow if the sun got high enough and always smelling oh so sweet in the evenings when restaurants and common folk would move their cooking outdoors, smoke from the barbeques dancing in the mellow breeze like rice plumes in their paddy fields, carrying drippings of fat and roasted lavender melons to your nose. If the night was just right, you could just catch the slow baking of Tomoki’s dango, sweet rice cakes lathed with caramel or a soy glaze, both welcomed after hours wandering the slopes beneath Narakumi.

Sumeru summers, despite only experiencing a few in your recent years, were so stiflingly different and yet, a gentle reminder of what it was like back home. It was definitely - wetter with sweltering days that made it hard to breathe and made way for almost frigid nights, dew settling fat and heavy over the land, clouds gathering to tease a storm but only showering a gentle drizzle. The sprawling fields and jagged islands of Inazuma made way for the jungles and vast forests of Sumeru, sunlight dappled and sparkling no matter the time of day, shining through leaves and spider webs and flowers you had yet to name, catching in the estuaries and ponds snaking across the landscape. And the desert, dry and barren with the formidable beast in the sky baring down at all moments, was teaming with the same greenery as your new residence. You didn’t often venture past Caravan Ribat and the few times you did travel there, the sun was shielded behind great hanging cloths and rugs of immense beauty, some old and worn and some witnessing their first day protecting the residents and travellers of the threshold of the desert. Though the shade and protection of the trees was much more suited to you and your gentle memories of Inazuma, flitting from branch to branch the way you used to with the sea caves and shipwrecks of your home.

Sumeru summers meant ripe Zaytun peaches and crunchy radishes pickled with chilli and mint, sipping on lukewarm water from your pouch but wading through ice cold streams to document new outcrops of lotus’. It meant the constant shout of brightly coloured birds beyond your window, the low hum of traders passing through and offering their wares, the enticing aroma of curries and unleavened breads, both sitting heavy and comfortingly in your belly after every sweltering excursion.

There were times you missed Inazuma, deeply and painfully, but as it was, fate had called you beyond the services to the Shogunate and beyond the great sea which had previously been barred. The lifting of the decree saw a mass migration of people, some back to their original homes and many off to new, including yourself in the form of a letter from the Akademiya offering to school you in the great city of Sumeru.

That summer saw your first sea voyage, and your last taste of Inazuman sweetness for many years. The Akademiya was good to you, one of the first Inazumans in an age to study among their natives, bringing your knowledge of Inazuman biology and medicine to their foresight and introducing them to a world of eternity and strange new ways to ferment soybeans. It was difficult to grow accustomed to their culture, their ways and laws, and their itchy uniforms, preferring the loose garb that the forest rangers wore, their bows and their nimble knowledge. Studying under the Amurta discipline was a gentle reminder of home, reading about all sorts from around Teyvat, wishing so dearly to travel even beyond Sumeru to see it all for yourself; sitting at your desk in the early hours of the morning dreaming of the mountains of Liyue and the beauty of the Qingxin that you would find, wondering what it would be like to swim in the waters of Fontain and venture among the ancient forests of Mondstadt. Your love of the forest, of all things green and living and thriving sent you to Gandarva Villa, under the apparently famed and somewhat reluctant mentorage of Tighnari. Reluctant in that upon reading your thesis and realising that you had already submitted your first manuscript, and concluding that he had little idea of the basis of your study and that you had already nearly finished it entirely.

Inazuma had been closed off, shut to any and all outsiders for a generation, prompting only theories and wild ideas about your archon and her dealings; which lead to a dramatic decline in knowledge flowing from her shores, not only technologically but also botanically. Growing your first successful lavender melon on a rickety trellis in your front garden was talked about for weeks, fuelled only by your multiple displays of how one could cook, eat and utilise it. Food from Inazuma was indeed traded in the cities, but many of the forest rangers rarely ventured into the winding, bustling streets so in between studying and writing up a new version of your manuscript; you took it upon yourself to grow as much as you could from home to share with your new and beloved friends. And the Sumeru summers were the perfect growing conditions to do this, spending your pink and orange evenings pruning the naku weed and spreading straw beneath the amakuno fruits, tending to the delicate blooms of your unsuccessful dendrobiums.

Which is where you found yourself one calm and thankfully cool evening after feasting with your companions. Knelt on the grass, books and papers surround you and your distinct annoyance, chewing your lip and pondering on the answers you finally found regarding your one nemesis. A single sprout curls and threatens to wither before you, rejecting the sprinkle of water you summon from your palm, looking very sorry for itself; a sad reflection of its carer,

“I didn’t think I’d have to resort to such sinful methods little one,” you grumble, theory confirmed by the pocketbook of your own writing completed some years ago, “But I promised Tighnari and he looks really silly when he pouts,” as if your words would suddenly spark the sprout into blooming, a crumb of soil instead shuddered and dropped from its crisped leaf in defeat. A creature called out in the distance, wind blew gently through the valley and rustled your papers, concealing the staggering breaths of a person advancing on your delicate little world, and concealing the unsheathing of a small pocket knife. It was clear your intention, fuelled by your field notes and the archived history of Nazuchi Beach, and in a dramatic display; you held your hand out over the sorrowful sprout with the blade kissing your skin.

A hiss of breath and the nicking pain never came, pressure and a grunt revealed a hand holding your wrist far from the shining lick of the knife.

“What exactly are you doing?” the familiarity of that gruff voice causes a chill to ripple down your spin, hanging your head with heat in your cheeks, “I didn’t know it was Inazuman custom to sacrifice oneself to plants, dead ones at that,”

“I wasn’t going to entirely sacrifice myself, these plants grow only where blood has been spilt and I'm not going to ask someone else to do it for me, or start a war like they did back home so I figured -,” turning to face him, something catches you off guard. It wasn’t unusual for the General Mahamtra to pass through the valley, even stay for a few nights with his fellows, but it was unusual that he seemed - not quite right, despite still gripping you and staring at you with unimpressed judgement. So much so that you abruptly ended your swotty explanation and tried to pull away from him, to no avail,

“Are you okay? You look kind of unwell?” voice gentle and curious, causing Cyno to tighten his grip on your wrist even more, “Ah ! - you’re hurting me,”

“Where is Tighnari? I need to see him, something has happened…I’ve done something regreful,” even though he seemed to have been speaking perfectly fine a few seconds ago, Cyno suddenly sounded a thousand miles away and almost intoxicated. Eyes glancing around furtively, searching for nothing and everything, specifically your reluctant mentor who currently -,

“He’s away right now, Liyue - ow ! - there was a cooking event he wanted to go to and so I asked if he could pick me up some Violetgrass and also some starconches,” you say through your teeth, struggling out of his grasp and rubbing your wrist, squinting at his figure in the doctor-ish way Tighnari taught you. All of a sudden, he didn’t look much like a General Mahamatra, or even a matra; trying desperately to hide the sways in his body and the shaking of this fists held tightly by his side, tongue dipping out of his mouth to lap at the beads of sweat rolling down his upper lip, eyes red and rimmed dark. Words seem to be a loss for him at the news, swallowing thickly and looking down at his feet, toes digging into the carefully curated moss of your garden,

“What did you eat?” your sharp question stuns him out of his stupor for a moment, scrambling to your feet to assess him properly, “Or drink, but I assume it was something edible that has you sweating like the grand sage in a brothel,”

“Don’t - ,” he spits, “Don’t mock me,” you step back, hands up in submission, face shining with the want to help,

“I wasn’t Cyno, I promise, Tighnari isn’t here right now so I’m going to help you, but I need you to answer my questions so I can do that,” it occurred to you for a moment that as the General, Cyno probably knew about his friend’s little excursion and yet, came straight to you instead of the Akademiya. But a sharp exhale banished that thought from your mind,

“In the North, near Vanarana, there were Fatui breaking protocol,” at the mention of the mysterious and mostly unmapped region, you usher Cyno into your humble hut, drawing the wicker shutters and lighting a candle in the dwindling dusk, “they had stolen goods - crests from all over Teyvat, mostly food from Inazuma, some kind of mushroom …,”

“Oh Cyno, we have both told you never to -,”

“Yeah, yeah, never eat something I can’t name, I know; but it looked like a starshroom, it was glowing and I can obviously name that so, I ate it,” sinking into a chair, Cyno suddenly looked pale in the candlelight, wiping sweat from his brow and shifting his hips beneath your scrutinising gaze,

“Did you say it was glowing? You ate a glowing mushroom?” this was hardly the time for jesting but you couldn’t help but grin, vanishing in a second under Cyno’s scowl, “Tighnari is going to be so mad at you, I thought it was obvious not to go around tasting things that glowed! We teach that to children! And newcomers who have never seen anything like it before,” your berating is only half serious, rummaging around you various knapsacks and baskets for the ingredient you needed to ease his pain, handing him a strip of dried something or other with a kind look, “Chew on this, it should stop the pain in a few seconds but just hang tight okay? I’ll take care of you,”

As much of a mother you seemed around those who made mistakes, berating them sharply before showing them the right way or the solution; Cyno almost felt like a lover to you in the way you cupped his jaw to make sure he was indeed chewing on the bark, stroking the tops of his cheekbones and the round of his collar in search of a rash, fingers soft and methodical, loving in a way he was unsure of whether you used towards other patients. He watched you work, content with his stabilising condition and preparing some kind of drink, back facing him and sweetly busy at your workbench. You were so precise and aged in your movements, picking the right herb and concoction without having to think, mixing them perfectly into a hand thrown cup with an extra spoonful of something for good measure,

“Here,” you sat down in the chair next to him, pressing a cool palm to his forehead beneath his headpiece, “I put some sugar in it to make it a little easier to drink, m’fraid I didn’t have any lavender melon syrup left,” the cup is heavy when you push it towards him, eyes curious and ever watchful, “If you need to throw up then warn me first,”

That struck him as odd. “Why didn’t you make me do that as soon as I arrived here? Surely that’s the first protocol in eating something dangerous?” you jerked your head, an indicator for him to drink and truly, the sugar did nothing to hide the foul taste and Cyno couldn’t hold back the winces and the gags as he swallowed,

“You ate fluorescent fungus, probably a rarer sub-specie that is very similar to the starshroom and native to Inazuma, obviously. The spores would have touched your lips first and as it is a very delicate plant -,” you fiddle with a small pocket book left on the table, showing him a beautiful painted depiction of the yellow-ish fungus he ate, “your saliva would have dissolved it before it even hit your stomach so vomiting would not have done much,” he nods, somewhat in defeat, gulping the last of your concoction with a poorly hidden gag, “We can sit until you feel better if you’d like, I’m surprised you didn’t have worse symptoms. Usually people get hallucinations, fainting, loss of limb control; the usual when one eats a poisonous mushroom, but you’re strong I guess,” you steal a glance at his body reclined and tense in the chair, “or just resistant,” Cyno doesn’t reply, tilting his head back and taking a shallow breath, still uncomfortable and unwell, “Just relax, it’ll take effect in a little bit, I’ll take care of you while it does,”

There was that strange feeling that made Cyno want to suck in his cheeks and puff out his chest, but it was not all that unfamiliar. Moments like this were common, more so in the recent visits, the ones where he felt like you could be a little more than the Inazuman who knows surprisingly too much. Sat around the fire in the cool nights, palm held in yours, tracing the deep callouses and lines and pretending to be a mage from your home city, making up some jumbo about his future and him suddenly so wishing you were in it; waving at him from down in the valley, wading with the fishes and the fungi, trousers rolled up to your knees and looking just about the happiest he had ever seen you; listening from the shadows as you animatedly retold stories from travelling around Watatsumi and foraging the pearls hidden beneath the glowing waters, an eagerly fond look twinkling in his eye; slyly asking about you at the Akedamiya, wondering about your studies and pretending to be interested in your thesis when all he could see was your printed name at the top of the manuscript; times when you thought he couldn’t see you looking at him with his headpiece off, a cut on his brow or a set of cards on the table in front of him, noticing your longing gaze and keeping it safe for the lonely nights in the desert.

You were looking at him now, thinking he was resting, allowing your eyes to trace the steady rise and fall of his chest, the soft skin of his stomach and the trunks of his thighs, spread and inviting. It takes all he has not to smirk, or flush, or even move. It’s strange, he thinks, he feels almost uncomfortable in that he desperately wants to do something about it, in an all the more wanton way. Makes him feel wound up, on edge almost, biting his tongue and scrunching his toes in case he might stand up and simply confess.

“How do I know if I’m hallucinating?” Cyno knows he isn’t, but it fills the heady silence and he hears you readjust yourself, sitting up a little straighter,

“Well, first of all, you shouldn’t be hallucinating now since the medicine should be working,” there’s concern in your voice, licking like a lover over his ears, feeling you press forward and he feels you caress his closed eyelid, “look at me? Why could you be hallucinating now?” he’s lazy in aiding your poking and prodding, allowing you to remove his headpiece and place it on the table, blinking blearily, “Describe what you are feeling please, and what you’re seeing,”

“I’m not sure how to describe it,” he grumbles after a moment in gathering his thoughts, struggling in your close proximity, “You’re so close, it’s interfering with my concentration,” you furrow your brows, confused and more than concerned, that same soft scowl of a lover settling on your face at his words, “there, you’re doing things and saying things and making me feel things I’m not accustomed to, it feels wrong; like it and you and all this shouldn’t be here,”

“And so, you think that you’re experiencing a hallucination of what exactly?” you feel for a temperature, sitting back in your chair at his leaning forwards into the touch of your hand, “I’m not sure you’re hallucinating Cyno, your vitals are - ,” precise fingers dig into the doughy, giving skin under his chin to feel for a pulse, finding it strong and fluttering like a small bird, “Let me get you something to drink, water this time I promise,” you’re not angry with his feigning symptoms, or that concerned at his apparent anxiety, not berating him in that motherly way like you usually do and that only causes his pulse to rocket higher and the anxiety creep further into his gut. You’re acting in that way again, sweet eyes and a sweeter voice, like honey, fetching him a cool welcomed cup of water in the way such as after a night of -

You distinctly remember hearing absolute silence in the seconds between you standing to get your guest some water, and then feeling his imposing presence behind you, close enough to feel his breath on the back of your neck. Time stops at the sound of his fists clenching by his side, swallowing thickly at the sight of your inviting skin, physically shaking in his restraint,

“I feel like I’m dreaming, like none of this and none of what I am feeling is real,” you’re silent still, barely breathing in the confined space he’d boxed you into, a small corner of your hut with a sink that provided you some much needed physical support. Psychologically however, you were in turmoil. Cyno, the Great General Mahamtra, felt as if he was having a hallucination or some kind of dream in his apparent romantic or lustful pursuit of you, and the implication of what was standing behind you was suddenly too much to bear.

“I could - pinch you if you’d like,” the voice that leaves you doesn’t sound like your own, shaky and shy, “Dreams aren’t real, you shouldn’t be able to feel or touch or taste in a dream, if you concentrate hard enough,”

A beat passes, filled with sharp, quiet breaths passing between you and it aches that you cannot see what he’s doing, or what he looks like or how he feels. Your heart flutters like a sakura petal in the spring breeze, mouth dropping open when you feel his hands rest on your hips, burning hot through your clothes. Cyno sucks in a breath, lips dry and cool as they part against your neck, tongue darting out to taste the damp saltiness of your skin,

“I feel you,” he mumbles into your jugular, thick hair sticking to the side of your face and his nails dig into the cushiony flesh of your hips, “I feel you, and you feel - soft, so soft,” hips press into you, strong and hard and fluid, “And you taste like nectar, like honey and wine and - like a dream,”

“It’s been more than enough time for the medicine to take its full effect, you shouldn’t feel any more side effe…Cyno,” his name comes out a sigh at his attaching his mouth fully to your throat, wet and warm and causing your knees to buckle. He catches you, almost, slinging an around around your middle and hoisting you back against him, panting against the back of your neck,

“I guess you’re right,” one hand grips your wrist, urging you to put down the cup and Cyno lifts it to his lips, nose running down the pulsing veins as it trying to absorb your scent and the effect he has on your pulse, throbbing beneath the delicate skin, “How could this be a dream, a hallucination if I can feel everything, taste you on my tongue, touch you like this?”

He’s grinding against you, body writhing in tandem with his in response, mouth open with heady gasps and mewls that remind him over and over that not only did you save him from certain madness, but you also were eagerly reciprocating his equally eager advances. Long fingers unlace the ties of your trousers and dip beneath your waistband, instead dragging up into your shirt, loose and comfortable for your planned evening of study, now easily parting like clouds on a blustery day for him. The first touch against your chest sends you shivering into his grip, fingertips brushing the underside of your breast oh so softly and politely before gripping a little firmer, then altogether greedily. Flesh spilling between his fingers, nipple catching on a callous, rough and a little mean but eliciting such a submissive little reaction that Cyno nearly folds forward against you.

“Please, please, please,” you’re muttering desperately, sacred like you’re saying a prayer, pushing your chest further into his touch and arching your back, “Touch me please,”

“You’re always so polite,” he isn’t much for words, let alone praises but you’re so dear and so sweet in his arms, shivering like a little lamb and even bleating at the slithering of his other hand into your trousers. With his face still nuzzling into your neck, Cyno is only just able to hide his distinct devastation at how wet you are, positively soaking your underwear and covering his fingers in honeyed slick. He grips your breast harder, plucking at your nipple at the same luxurious pace as his forefingers sliding through your cunt, slipping sloppily over your clit and you all but howl. You aren’t quite sure what to do with your hands, the one he was previously lathing kisses to was now somehow tangled in his hair, holding him in place and it’s grounding, it’s anchoring you to the intense, gooey pleasure coursing through your gut. Your other hand is gripping his forearm, the one deep between your thighs or the one greedily fisting your breasts, you aren’t sure but your nails hurt and you think it’s because you’re holding on too tight, but how can you not when too much is happening all at once?

Cyno feels your arousal coating his hand, palm sticky and fingers pruning with his assault, languid circles over your clit, following the shivers and writhes of your body with grinds and jerks of his own. Gods, he’s so hard that it hurts, and he knows that you’re so close, so fucking close to cumming but he can’t help but still worry if he’s dreaming, if this is all an after effect of his incident, if you’d neglected to tell him how long something like a hallucination could last. He vaguely hears you howl in agonising dejection when he rips his hand from your trousers, strings of arousal glistening in between his fingers in the light and he’s struck with how you’d much prefer to cry over the loss than watch him lick up the mess you’d made. You only just manage to catch his eyes rolling back at the taste, dripping down his wrist, three fingers shoved into his mouth and positively devouring the essence of you. Tears leak down your cheeks, replacing his fingers with your lips in a whirlwind of need and hard, hot desperation, swallowing his surprised grunt with a whine of your own. Cyno doesn’t respond for a moment, shocked at your display of wantonness, tongue licking inside his mouth in a thinly veiled attempt at tasting your own arousal and his grip on you suddenly becomes all the more fierce.

“I can’t - I can’t -,” your kisses grow sloppy with your begs, struggling to pull your trousers down, almost losing your balance and it pains Cyno to part from you for even a second to disrobe himself. Red eyes follow your every movement, toeing off your shoes and ungracefully kicking away your trousers, bending over for a moment and it takes everything in him not to cum on the spot. Nestled between your thighs, dripping and plump, the scent of it wounding him to his knees, crawling half dressed over to you,

“Gods - fuck,” eyes fluttering closed at your suprised gasp, tongue darting out to lick gently, lightly like he was licking honey from his finger, catching the leaking drops and feeling his stomach clench, and his cock kick against his thigh. You remain in place, frozen against his curious, pointed licks, flattening his tongue after having his fill and splitting your pussylips with a lewd noise. He could be content between your thighs for the rest of his life, Akademiya be damned, coming home from his duties to this lifeline of saccharine sin that he swallows down greedily and selfishly. The wings of your shirt sit bunched over your hips, sliding low over your ass until he frustratedly fists the cotton against your cheek and spreads you enough to put his whole mouth against you.

“Cyno! Ah - !” you startle forwards, but he only follows like a worshipper, slurping and swallowing every flutter and every throb of you, fingers digging hard into your thigh and ass to keep himself in place. A tentative hand cards into his hair, a question and his answer was a long, slow moan directly into your cunt, vibrating between your hips and the result was your closeted strength almost shoving him over, nose hitting your clit and causing you to gyrate deliciously.

That was all he wanted, this drawn out stupor only stabilised by your shuddering grinds against his tongue, palm slapping against the countertop. If you’d allow him, Cyno would do this every day, he’d gladly station himself in the city if he got to taste the heaven between your thighs even for a few seconds in the mornings before he was called in to deal with the country’s worst and the best. It would be a welcome reprieve, one he’d been craving without even knowing it; in the moments alone with you, sacred and secret, soft and sweet and warm. To feel you gushing down his chin, moans reaching their crescendo and legs shaking on your tiptoes, all but sobbing into the crook of your elbow as you cum; it would be worth the sacrifice.

Cyno felt selfish, detaching himself from your cunt, resting his forehead against the back of your thigh and smoothing his hands over your shuddering calves, down to your ankles and then back up to your ass.

“Are you okay?” his breath is hot on your skin, and through your gulping pants, you manage to answer with a cracked ‘mhm’. You feel him smile wide and smug, standing and hiccuping at the state of you, slumped against the sink and writhing as if in pain, whole body breathing with your dwindling orgasm, “Come here, I got you,”

Carefully and all too greedily, Cyno scoops your torso against his with his hand angling your jaw, tilting your face up to his. A kiss is pressed to your lips, languid and lazy, a stark contrast to the blunt head of his cock kissing the lips of your cunt. You shudder, unable to return his kisses but trying so desperately to keep his stare, eyes boring into yours as he angles his hips.

“I got you,” he murmurs a promise, feeling your fingers lace with his over your throat, watching your lids flutter as he presses into you, “Stay with me, I got you I promise, just a little more,”

Breathy and fleeting, Cyno recites his words like a prayer, thrusting gently and shallowly at your wobbling bottom lip, swallowing your discomforted hiccups. He doesn’t thrust to the hilt like he so dearly wishes to, filling you in one swipe and leaving you reeling - no, he’s slow, methodical, precise and doesn’t break eye contact for even a second. Keeping a firm grip on your jaw, chasing the breaking down of your resolve every inch he slides into you until there’s no more, snug and warm and so fucking wet. He feels you against his pelvis, against his thighs, sticky and warm, shuddering when he kisses you once more, almost like a praise for taking him all the way.

You’re trying to speak, trying to make any sort of sound but the breath is stolen from your chest when he starts an agonisingly deep grind, up into you, hardly leaving the warmth of your cunt and digging hard into your belly. It feels as though he’s in your throat, eyes never leaving yours and sending you spiralling, gasps turning into whimpers turning into hiccuping sobs of his name with every defying push of his hips. Cyno sees your eyes flutter for a second, lips parted and brushing yours, swallowing every delicious sound you make, responding with grunts of his own in both encouragement and sin.

“Eyes on me,” he purrs, a crack in his voice at the sudden way you choke him, cunt clenching at the drop in his tone. Cyno shudders, pace slipping and he slides his hand down over the swell of your belly, feeling for the slippery bud of your clit. When he decides to match the slow, heady pushes and pulls of his hips with heavy thrums over your clit, you’re quite unsure of how you manage to stay standing upright.

“Ah - ! Cyno !” he never falters, not even when you grind back up against him, not even when you try to lick into his mouth for even a semblance of grounding, not even when you cum so hard that fat tears roll down your cheeks, not even when you finally catch your voice and reach back to grip hard at his hair, “Again, make me cum again please,” you beg, “Please Cyno, please - inside, cum inside, make it deep - please,”

Begging didn’t seem to be about your usual person, the one he knew that shared their meals and knowledge with anyone who asked, so to hear it fall from the heaven of your lips was surely his downfall. It was unexpected, it tore a deep and long snarl from his chest, grinds turning into thrusts turning into something damning and gut wrenching. The fingers on your clit were kinder, swift circles to keep you leaking down your thighs but the cock battering your sensitive walls was less so.

He never stops watching you though, even when you reach a second completion, all the more messier and sloppier than the first, red heavy eyes boring into yours without faltering for even a second. Cyno presses his forehead to yours, the angle causing your neck to ache but it goes unnoticed through the life giving pleasure he brings you, with every greedy slam of his pelvis against your ass. Lips touch yours in the moment he cums, eyes finally snapping shut and you think he looks beautiful through the fog of your orgasm; illuminated by the candle light, sweat flecking his brow, hair mussed and tangled in your fingers. Jaw ticking with every twitch of his cock deep inside of you, warmth spreading through your hips and thighs, feeling his hand flatten over your stomach as a kind of worship, caressing the space he fills so deliciously.

“I - ,” he swallows heavily,

“It’s okay,” is the first thing you can think of, “I wanted it too,” Cyno’s eyes open and he searches your face, “For… a while,”

It feels like eternity before he answers, nudging his nose against yours affectionately,

“Would it surprise you to admit I felt the same? That I waited far too long, and chose a rather idiotic time to do it?” the corner of his lips lift in a smirk,

“Honestly and with your track record? Not really, you have a bad habit of keeping things to yourself,” with bated breath you lean to kiss him softly, “But so do I, I guess,”

Cyno clenches his jaw as he pulls away from you, surveying the mess of your coupling before surveying the mess between your thighs. He flushes dark, lust threatening red again at the white threatening to spill to the floor,

“Here, let me - help you,” he aids in removing your soiled shirt, using that as a rag between your thighs and he hisses along with your protests at the sensitivity, “I’m sorry, I’ll be gentler next time, I promise,” you aren’t shy in your nudity, how could you really? And you turn to Cyno with heated cheeks,

“Next time? When - urm - when do you plan on having a next time?” Goosebumps flurry over your arms, nipples perking in the coolness of the night and Cyno can’t help but reach out, cupping the weight of your breast and sighing at the feeling, “I can’t, not right now - that’s too soon Cyno! You gotta let me rest! Don’t be so - !”

And he laughs. Full and loud and hearty, gripping you and embracing you and kissing you with laughter wrinkling his face, craning you backwards and swaying you to and fro. You squeal, thighs tacky and sticky but following his movements, allowing him to swing you over to your cot on the far wall.

“I would never defile you without asking, and not before tasting you thoroughly too,” Cyno kneels before you, a covenant and their disciple, hands tucked together in prayer, “And besides, I’m still questioning whether this is a dream,”

“I could pinch you, again, if you like?” You draw your blanket up around your shoulders, sliding backwards further on to the bed, noticing for the first time that Cyno still had a majority of his upper clothing on and there was something about the exposure of his abdomen, the ripples of his muscles, the thatch of white hair trailing down from his belly button to his cock resting between his thighs that gets you all tingly and warm again. He folds himself into the small space with you, catlike and flexible, kissing your forehead with a hum,

“Maybe in a few hours, I’ll probably wake up and need a splash of something on my face to remind me I’m not hallucinating,” it takes you a second to catch on, hiding your face in your hands with a mortified groan and Cyno laughs again, gathering you close, keeping your quaint reaction to his terrible joke a secret, a safe little slice of heaven only for him to enjoy. In the back of his mind, he remembers suddenly that out of everyone; you’re the only one who entertained his jokes and silly puns, and the first time you genuinely laughed at one was also probably the first time he decided that he loves you. The word chases tails in his mind as he succumbs to sleep, tucked up against you and keeping his lips firmly pressed to your forehead, an imprint of himself for you to feel even when he wasn’t there.

#cyno x reader #cyno smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #cyno x y/n #cyno x you #genshin impact x you #I hope this one shows up:((((

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skzsauce01 · 6 months

Text

What Was I Made For

Synopsis: College is hard, but it's even worse when you're a pre-med student and it's even, even worse when you don't want to go into medicine. Fortunately, the ghost that haunts your apartment is more kind, more annoying, and more helpful than you ever thought possible. College AU, ghost AU.

Warning: alcohol, bad parental relationship, mentions of death

Word Count: 6.2k

Pairing: f!reader x ghost!Kim Seungmin

A/N: Good luck with exams and classes!

“Honey, I’m home,” you call. The handles of the reusable grocery bag you picked up from a club booth at the beginning of the semester are already starting to fall apart, so you’re forced to flip on the light switch with your shoulder blades. You glare at Seungmin, who is lounging on the couch, staring at the ceiling. “Could you at least pretend to help?”

“What’s the point? I can’t even eat whatever you bought.”

You sigh and set down your haul onto the tiny kitchen island that doubles as a dining table. When you make a big production of taking out your groceries, Seungmin still doesn’t look up. Despite his inability to eat food, he usually shows some interest, if only to judge your snack choices.

On the counter, bananas in a plastic produce bag to prevent fruit flies, and a new roll of paper towels. On the top shelf of the fridge, a tub of Greek yogurt that Seungmin makes fun of you for liking. Assorted salad mixes in the crisper. A whole rotisserie chicken and a carton of eggs on the middle shelf. In the cabinet goes a party-sized bag of barbeque chips, a pack of chocolate chip cookies you don’t want to discuss how much you paid for, and a box of protein bars.

You take the last item out of the bag and hide it behind your back. You hover over Seungmin. “Guess what I got?”

“A bag of potatoes that will grow spuds because you can’t finish them all.”

“That was one time! Try again.”

He guesses wrong again and again, so after the fifth attempt, you hold your prize in front of his eyes. “A better vegetable peeler, just like you told me to. Are you proud of me?”

For a moment, his sullen eyes brighten at the memory of you struggling with your old peeler. He watched with great amusement as the flimsy blade repeatedly got caught on carrot skin and you grew more infuriated with each catch. In the end, you gave up and ate the skin, fuming with each bite of your meal. Seungmin laughed so hard, you thought he would lose control of his physical form and slip through the floor.

He sighs, all of the joy escaping through his lips. “Yeah, sure. Sorry, it’s just one of those days.”

“We all have them. Hey, why don’t we do something tonight? I’m done studying, so we can watch a movie or play Mario Kart or something.” You plaster a smile on your face. “Fun, right?”

“You’re never gonna get into med school if this is how you work.”

Despite his admonishments, he sits up and swings his legs off the couch to make room for you. He didn’t choose an activity so Mario Kart it is. You leave your peeler on the coffee table and grab your joycons. When you flop beside him, tossing the blue one in his lap, he grumbles as he’s jostled around.

“I don’t even wanna go to med school,” you remind him. He already knows since it’s all you complain about these days as the MCAT draws closer, but that’s never stopped you from repeating yourself.

“Wow, what a problem. I’d die to go to med school.”

Without thinking, you snort. “Too late for that.”

Seungmin has been dead for nearly two years. The old apartment complex burned down in an electrical fire, and due to the housing demand in the area, the university quickly built a new one in its place. Sure, you suspected it was probably haunted, but rent was on the cheaper side, especially for a single room, so you moved in and learned about your unofficial roommate during your first night. You thought you were going to faint when you saw a stranger leaning over your stack of practice books, and you thought you were going to be killed when he simply said, “I was also pre-med.”

“Sorry,” you meekly say. Why is the Mario Kart music so cheerful? It would be worse if it was sad, but the upbeat tune just makes your mistake more poignant. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” he interjects. “Doesn’t matter. You better not pick Birdo this time.”

While you normally would have fought him six ways from Sunday for Birdo, you choose Yoshi instead and pick his favorite circuit to start off the night. He makes no comment about your sudden generosity, but you both know the reason. There’s no such thing as pity in this household, but apologies are aplenty.

When you come back from your anatomy lab the following day, whatever guilt you felt is gone when Seungmin holds up your pack of cookies with a disapproving look. You must have forgotten to put it back in the cabinet before you left. Either that or Seungmin rummaged around your belongings when the roommate contract stated that he could not and would not.

“You seriously paid for these?” he says.

“They’re good! And artisan,” you huff as you snatch the package from his hands. You hope you didn’t crush any cookies in the process. “I support small businesses.”

“They haven’t been a small business or artisan in, like, twenty years. How did the cat dissection go?”

You reach for an overpriced cookie and snap off a piece with more force than necessary. “Fine. A little gross, but I guess I’m used to that by now. You wanna see the pictures I took?”

He tries to feign nonchalance, but his body seems more substantial, less ghost-like as you scroll through your camera roll. Even though he oohs and aahs at the most inappropriate images—you really don’t think the digestive structures of a cat deserve that much admiration—you can’t help but smile. He hasn’t looked or sounded this lively in weeks. You thought it might have been your snark rubbing off of him, but he always has a biting remark at the ready, remedied only with his good-natured demeanor. Of course, that demeanor has been slowly crumbling, so to see him be his usual self again feels good.

Satisfied, he lets you take your phone back. “Sometimes I miss lab. I hated doing the lab reports though; have fun with that.”

And just like that, your happiness goes out. “That’s tomorrow’s problem. I should study before work. You wanna help me out? I hate physics.”

Look, if your roommate were a pre-med student, had unlimited time, and no other obligations, you would force them to help you study, too. Plus, Seungmin loves MCAT practice, so it’s a win-win.

To your surprise, he doesn’t jump at the opportunity like he typically does. Under normal circumstances, he would be scouring the living room for where he last left his flashcards. Instead, he says, “Why don’t you take a break?”

“A break? You, of all people, suggest that I take a break when you were just telling me about my bad study habits? Who are you, and what have you done with Seungmin?”

He rolls his eyes. “I didn’t realize you wanted to do physics that badly.”

“I don’t. This is weird from you though.” However, after a moment of contemplation: “Whatever. Pick a show to watch. I’m gonna draw.”

He selects House because he’s still Seungmin after all. This is the show that inspired him to go into medicine, and is, as he’s mentioned many times before, “the greatest show on the planet.” It’s entertaining, you admit, and you do like seeing all of the obscure medical cases Dr. Gregory House solves, but it’s a grim reminder of your parents’ dreams for you. With the dialogue of the characters echoing in your head, you sketch a frog sitting on top of a stack of pancakes. You initially bought your tablet for note taking, but it really is much better as a tool for art.

“It’s always animals, plants, or dessert now,” Seungmin remarks, craning his head to get a better view while you continually pull your screen away. “What happened to your big fantasy pieces?”

“Rule one: no looking until I say so. Rule two: no questions unless I say so. Remember?”

He ignores you. “You used to do a lot of those things when you first moved in. With the crazy landscapes, guys with abs in crop tops, cat-ear ladies with fancy dresses, villains who you definitely wanted to—”

“I get it!” Your face is blazing. He makes your artistic—purely artistic—interests sound so much worse than they are. “I’ve just been busy with life, so I don’t have time to work on them anymore. Anyway, animals, plants, and desserts are cute.” In a smaller voice, you add, “And they make me happy.”

Just like pictures of a flayed cat makes him happy.

He goes quiet and lets Dr. House fill the air. While he pretends to be engrossed in the show, you turn back to your sketch to fix your frog’s eyes to be less downcast. No sad frogs allowed.

You don’t remember exactly when the dread began, but you do distinctly remember glancing over the syllabus for your genetics course and wanting to collapse. Each item was manageable by itself, but the totality of the class, of your future classes, of your future hurtled at you at full force. For so long, you convinced yourself you could do it. You would complain the whole time, but at the end, you would be addressed as ‘Doctor’ and you would be happy. Your parents would be happy, so you would be happy and realize that it was all worth it.

Even if you cried every night, it would be worth it.

You took a deep breath, looked at the list of assigned textbooks, and pulled out your credit card. You went through more dire situations than this stupid course. This would be easy enough.

Two weeks after the art fiasco, you finally test out your new vegetable peeler on potatoes. Your friend gave you five for free since she was having trouble finishing the large amount she bought. While you stand over the sink, humming a song your neighbor has been practicing for the past week, Seungmin is hunched over the coffee table, doing something secretive with flashcards. He’s been working on a new set of them since the art fiasco, which makes no sense since you have a perfect set of a thousand that you bought online. But no, he has been toiling day and night to create handmade ones. You don’t even want to know where he got the supplies.

Well, you already know where and how, but if your neighbors come knocking, you know nothing.

In fear that you’ll “ruin the surprise,” you have been forbidden from even stepping foot onto the living room carpet. Really, there’s no point because you can get a glimpse if you lean across the island. Nevertheless, you keep your eyes on the growing pile of potato skins. You have five potatoes worth of fries to make.

Ten minutes later, when you have moved onto slicing, Seungmin declares that he’s done. He places the baking sheet you left on the island onto a chair and triumphantly sets down his masterpiece.

When you pick up the topmost one, you can’t help but smile. Alongside the words “absolute threshold” is a cartoon rabbit with alert ears. Tiny music notes are dotted on the top edge of the card.

“To make your studies less stressful,” he says.

You don’t have the heart to tell him that you’re always some degree of stressed but nevertheless thank him. The flashcards are adorable, even if Seungmin’s drawing skills aren’t the best. “Newton’s first law” has an indistinguishable creature kicking a ball, and “law of independent assortment” features some of the strangest plants you have ever seen.

“I love them.”

“What do you think of my art skills? Better than you, right?”

You laugh and turn back to your cutting board. “You should’ve considered art school instead of med school. Professional artist Seungmin,” you muse. “I can see you in galleries and museums.”

“Don’t forget the history textbooks. Why didn’t you consider art school? You would be perfect for video games or something.”

For some time, you did consider art school. You spent the first two years of high school daydreaming about sitting behind an easel, translating a model’s likeness onto paper. Perennial paint splatters on your jeans, permanent charcoal stains on your fingers—that was the only way you wanted to study human anatomy.

“My parents. You know how it is. Can you season the fries in the bowl?”

While Seungmin dumps copious amounts of salt, pepper, and whatever random spices he picked from the cabinet, you reflect on your teenage self. A part of you knew that drawing would only be a hobby, but another part kept hoping your parents would come around. When Hyunjin’s parents announced he was going to study chemistry, your mom wondered why he didn’t choose art when he was such a good artist. In fact, half the neighborhood, whose children went into STEM fields one way or another, were shocked he chose chemistry. Of course, if their own kids had opted for non-STEM majors, they would have been livid. Just like your parents had been.

“Did you ever think about not going into medicine?” you ask as you add more potato slices into the bowl.

He adds a swirl of oil to the mix. “No. It’s all I ever wanted to do. I volunteered at the hospital in high school, got an internship at a clinic here. I was studying for the MCAT and then…”

And then the university’s outdated housing killed him. It sounds horrific when phrased like that, but it’s more truthful than “Promising Young Pre-med Student Kim Seungmin Dead After Apartment Fire,” as the city newspaper headlined. His student ID photo smiled earnestly at readers, and a recent picture showed him posing in a lab coat.

It hits you then. Seungmin is dead. You knew this logically; you saw the articles, passed by the vigil, and signed the student letter demanding better accommodations. Then you forgot his existence until you applied to live in this building and when he appeared in your bedroom, you forgot about his death. Despite witnessing him walk through walls and tiptoeing around his deceased status, Seungmin has never really been dead to you. He’s your roommate who sleeps in the living room, your study partner who loves all things related to biology, or your friend. He’s too alive to be anything else.

“Did you preheat the oven?” he asks, breaking you out of your spiraling thoughts. Your body went on autopilot, and now the baking sheet is covered in pale potato sticks.

You glance at the dark oven and head over to do what you should’ve done twenty minutes ago. “My bad.”

“You’re the one eating these. Can you even finish all this?”

It’s far too much, but what else were you going to do with five potatoes on the verge of going bad? You suppose you could have not accepted them from your friend. “I can try?” you say, more to convince yourself than him. “I’m no coward.”

“Really? Then why do you hide when we watch horror movies?”

“That’s different. Mario Kart while we wait?”

“I call Birdo.”

Despite his declaration, you’re the one playing Birdo while he settles for Waluigi. Seungmin gloats when he hits you with a red shell, laughs when you fall off the track, and celebrates when he gets first place. He’s practically corporeal, alight with hopes and dreams you wish were your own, but he’s only the echo of the past. Meanwhile, blood flows through your veins and oxygen into your lungs, yet you’re stuck in a potential future you don’t even want.

At the end of fall, between your human biology midterm and that stupid philosophy paper, you break. It’s during one of your MCAT practice exams, so you at least can cry at your desk. You can’t even cry without guilt; your mind immediately starts trying to reread the problem you’re stuck on through your tears, as if trigonometry will solve your crisis.

It feels like an elephant is sitting on your chest. Every time you think you’ve calmed down enough to begin again, another wave of sobs overcomes you. Just holding your pencil makes your throat tighten.

“Are you okay?” Seungmin’s voice is slightly muffled by your bedroom door, but you doubt that a thin piece of wood concealed your cries.

You choke out, “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“... No.”

You swing open your door with sardonic fanfare, spreading your arms like a ringmaster. Seungmin makes no comment about your swollen eyes or your sniffles. You almost wish he had.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks. He takes a tentative step into your room, and when you nod, he lets himself fully in. It’s been several months since he’s last been inside. Unmade bed, cluttered nightstand, paper-strewn desk—nothing much has changed. He sits on your chair, resting an arm on top of the throw blanket you’ve thrown over the back.

“I don’t know what there is to talk about,” you say after a moment of silence. “I hate class, I hate work, I hate my life. A breakdown has been long overdue.”

You stare at the floor, afraid to meet his gaze now that he’s seen you like this. Ever since you discovered Seungmin, you’ve crafted the perfect blasé attitude to accommodate your new living circumstances. He leaves you alone sometimes and stays cordoned off in the shared spaces to give you privacy, but you don’t break apart in your apartment for good reason. You’re open and raw like a bloody wound. Will he want to patch you up with bandaids, or will he pick and prod?

Pick and prod, you pray. Make some flippant remark about how easy you have it, how he wishes he could be in your position instead. Because if he does, then the situation must not be that bad.

Softly, Seungmin says, “What can I do to help?”

Your heart drops to your stomach. “I don’t know… I should probably get back to studying anyway.”

“Really? Are you serious?”

“What else am I supposed to do?” you snap. Seungmin at least has the decency to look sheepish. “The MCAT’s in July, and I don’t even understand half the things I’m supposed to know. I’m barely getting C’s in philosophy and art history because of it. That’s so humiliating.”

“Have you thought about, you know, not going to med school?”

A harsh laugh rips out of your throat. “Every single day. But it’s too late. I’ve already wasted four years, so what’s another four?” That doesn’t even include residency.

“You’d hate it.”

“Story of my life.”

The room goes quiet. Maybe you were too severe with your words, but how else do you explain it?

“What if you became a medical illustrator?” he abruptly suggests. “You’d know exactly how to draw everything. It’s perfect for you. And it’s still STEM-related.”

It doesn’t matter if it’s in STEM. Your parents laid out your options very clearly: doctor or disappointment. Some career choices were less disappointing than others, but they would still be disappointments.

“I need to study,” you say.

He stands up from your rightful seat at your desk. Softly, so very softly, he says, “I’ll let you get back to it then.”

“Thank you.”

He shuts the door behind him and leaves you with your despair. True to your word, you return to your practice exam, this time without crying. Your mouth is dry the entire session, but you don’t dare drink any water in fear that rehydration will trigger your tears. It’s stupid but keeps you holding on.

When you check your answers and review terminology, you refer to the set of flashcards Seungmin made for you. He didn’t expect you to use them, but his drawings have helped you better memorize the definitions. You shuffle through them, occasionally trying to figure out the relationship between whatever Seungmin drew and the word written. Other times—but not enough for your liking—you know exactly what they mean.

The rabbit from “absolute threshold” stares at you with lopsided eyes, and Mendel’s warped pea plants grow beneath your fingers. The whole world blurs.

A month after move-in, after too many beers and barbeque chips, you asked Seungmin, “Why do you haunt only me? You can travel through the whole building, but you’re only ever here.”

He gestures at the room with a sweeping flourish. “This used to be my apartment. Sort of. They changed the floor plan, but this is the approximate location of where I lived, so when you moved in, it felt like fate.”

“Ah, a med school sufferer to keep you company.”

He laughs, but it sounds insincere. “How drunk are you right now?”

You glance at the row of empty cans you lined up on the counter. One, two, three, four, five. Five and a half, if you count the one in your hand. “Pretty drunk, I think.”

“So you won’t remember what I tell you, right?”

“Probably not,” you lie. “What is it?”

With a sad smile on his face, he says, “I haunt you because it’s like seeing someone live the life I could’ve had. Would’ve had.”

Your outburst doesn’t go forgotten, but you and Seungmin dance around the topic with the grace of a seasoned ballerina. You show him your grocery hauls, he scolds you for buying expensive cookies. The two of you play Overcooked instead of Mario Kart and pretend that Overcooked will strengthen your friendship instead destroy it even further. Seungmin is really bad, embarrassingly so.

“Are you going to the party this weekend?” he asks as he drops onions all over the floor. There’s no health department in the game.

“I would ask you to be more specific,” you say, “but we both know I’m not going to any parties. Go chop the onions.”

“You need friends.”

“I have friends. Who do you think keeps us giving us potatoes?”

He scoffs. “That’s not a friend. That’s an enemy. We need more dishes.”

While you wash a stack of dirty dishes, Seungmin dashes between prepping ingredients and watching the timer on the soups. As expected, he doesn’t take the pot off the stovetop quick enough, and soon enough the whole kitchen is in flames. You scream at him to get the fire extinguisher, he wades through the sea of onions, and the level ends with a single gold star.

You set your joycon down and lean your head back. “Three stars or nothing” is your motto when playing Overcooked, but perhaps you can make an exception for Seungmin.

“Why’d you ask me about a party?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. Seems like a college student thing to ask. And a college student thing to do. Go to parties, I mean.”

“Not for us.” You stretch your arms and legs out, knocking your socked feet against the coffee table. “When have you ever seen me willingly leave the apartment?”

“Never,” he admits, “but you should enjoy your youth.”

Whatever mutual agreement you thought you and Seungmin had does not exist. You have long known that you would have to sacrifice your twenties for your future. There would be good moments among your struggles, but so many of your memories would be of test prep and studying. As your parents so eloquently put it, “You can draw after you retire.”

“That’s funny coming from you,” you say. You wave a hand in front of his face and observe the way his eyebrows scrunch together. “Are you really Seungmin?”

“Do you know any other ghosts?”

“Do you actually regret dedicating so much time to studying?”

“No. I mean, I went out when I could, but you…” He mindlessly thumbs the buttons of the controller as he tries to find his words. “Well, maybe I do a little bit, but it was fulfilling. Or was going to be anyway. You’re miserable. I’ve never seen you without dark circles or eye bags.”

How needlessly observant of him. “Thanks. It’s the quintessential college look.”

“Take care of yourself.” He raises his joycon and nods at the TV. “Let’s go again. Three stars only.”

And just like that, you and Seungmin go back to pretending as if everything is fine, like the last few minutes were idle chatter about the weather. You yell instructions at him, and he retorts back with something snarky; all is well.

You suppose you should have realized why Seungmin asked you such out-of-character questions two weeks ago. Death anniversaries don’t typically go onto your calendar, but you could have made an exception for Seungmin. How did you forget? As you walk down the stairs, a wave of guilt washes over you.

The annual university-held vigil occurs on campus, but the apartment complex has their own small affair in the courtyard. Framed photos of the victims huddle together at the base of a half-wall. Already, there are several flowers and notes strewn about, and you add your own carnation to the pile. You have a note as well, and it burns your hand as you debate whether to leave it or not.

Twelve people died that night. “Only” twelve, as some papers reiterated. Twelve out of three hundred doesn’t seem too horrific given the state of the fire, but that’s still twelve people dead. Plenty more got injured trying to escape, and they aren’t honored at this memorial. The living don’t get commemorated—they live with the memories of the day, and that’s remembrance enough for the public.

“Hey.”

No one else is around, so you say, “Hey,” back to Seungmin. He disappeared for a few hours, and you assumed he would be gone until sunrise. In the days leading up to his death anniversary, he has grown increasingly depressed, looking vacantly out the window and mouthing words to himself. You idiotically thought he was just having one of those days.

“How are you holding up?” you ask.

“Fine, I guess. Good turn out this year,” he remarks as he kneels down to pick through the gifts. “The construction workers didn’t even show up to work because of superstition or something.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know, it’s just…” You wave the folded notebook paper in your hand. Maybe you should’ve bought some stationery after all. “Read this later. I’ll see you whenever.”

You gently place it beside your carnation, return back to your apartment, and lock yourself inside your room. It’s too quiet, and you’re too restless. Your head tells you to do practice problems to burn off your energy, but all you’ve been doing as of late is listen to your head.

As you sketch an anatomical heart—underneath a completely necessary and painstakingly accurate rendering of a male torso—your bones say that this is right.

To Kim Seungmin, a star that went out too soon—

You deserved so much more than this. I don’t even know what else to say because nothing feels more appropriate.

I’m living in your old apartment—where it used to be, at least—and I can’t help but feel that I’m living the life you should have had. Sometimes I can feel your presence when I’m studying. I can hear you reciting definitions and shuffling flashcards. When I’m really losing my mind, I can see you sitting on the couch watching House episodes with me. It’s comforting and terrifying.

You already know this, but I don’t want to go to med school. I hate it and I hate being a disappointment to my parents, but I hate being a disappointment to you the most. You should be in my place, so I thought I should try and complete your dream for you at the very least. I’m already miserable, so I should make the most of it. For a while, I thought this would make you happy, but it’s been making you sad and worried recently. I thought if I could make you happy, then it would be worth it, but I’m realizing it’s not, but I’m too scared to leave this path. Sometimes I don’t know who I am without med school looming over me, and it

I wish we would’ve met earlier. You’re an amazing person, full of light and kindness. The world is darker without you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done and for everything that I didn’t do because you deserve so much better than whatever you’ve been given.

“Do you want to talk?”

Seungmin’s upside down face appears between you and the iPad you have been holding up with both arms. Philosophy review is simultaneously boring and maddening, but you have a final to be studying for. You should’ve started much earlier, but twenty-four hours of cramming has not failed you when it comes to general education elective courses yet.

“Not really,” you say as you push his face out of view. He’s corporeal at the moment, so your hand meets resistance rather than going right through. “I’m busy.”

“Did you apply for a ‘biomedical visualization’ program? That’s a medical illustrator thing, right?”

You don’t need to look at him to know he’s thrilled. Since the memorial, you began looking into medical illustrators as a backup plan. You only meant to learn about the basic requirements, but curiosity got the better of you, and you attended an online informational session. Seungmin overheard bits and pieces because of how thin the walls are, you got cagey when he asked, and he put his endless hours of free time into detective work.

“I didn’t apply. I’m just looking around. Now go away.”

“The living room is a communal space. So you’re considering it then?”

You don’t respond and bring your iPad closer to your eyes. To read the tiny notes on the margins of your classmate’s notes, of course.

Seungmin cackles and claps his hands. “You are! This is good! Why are you so morose?”

“Because you interrupted my studying? I have less than ten hours to cover three months of content.”

“You’re deflecting. Are you worried about your parents?”

“Morose and deflecting,” you murmur. “Two gold stars for your vocabulary usage.”

“Are you?”

You shut your eyes, envisioning the stern faces of your parents when you announce over dinner your plans to spend your life not being a doctor. Their expressions morph from confusion to anger to grim when they realize how serious you are.

Are you serious about this? You’re not even sure yourself. It feels like you’re in high school again, holding onto a shred of hope for a future you aren’t allowed to have.

“What if I lie to them?” you say. “I tell them I got into a school that’s super far away, go there, and return when I’ve firmly established myself as an illustrator or whatever I end up doing. It’ll be too late for them to do anything.”

“That’s one way to do it. But wouldn’t it be better if you were upfront?”

You groan and turn back to your classmate’s notes. What is it like, you wonder, to not be crushed by the weight of approval? What is it like to know you won’t be scorned for your choices? No matter what you do, someone—your parents or Seungmin—will be upset.

“Upset” is a very mild way to describe your parents’ reactions. After six cans of celebratory beer—you passed all of your classes this semester!—you called your parents to tell them good news. Somewhere between the silent congratulations and questions of your home arrival, you blurted out, “I think I’m gonna do biomedical visualization. Medical illustration. Art. It’s still medical-related, but not a doctor.”

And after a lengthy discussion filled with shouting, you’re not allowed to come home this year or ever again. CALL ENDED flashes on your screen, but you grip your phone so tightly you can feel your heartbeat in your fingertips. Your whole body is tense, flushed with indignation and shame. No tears come. You expected something like this but nothing to this extreme. Their words echo in your ears.

Ungrateful. Selfish. Disgrace.

Logically, you know you’re none of those things, but you can’t help but feel they’re at least a little bit right. You sink into your desk chair and wait for the inevitable knock on your door. To step out of your own accord would be mortifying.

“Are you okay?” asks Seungmin.

“I’ve been disowned in every way except legally,” you answer as you let him inside your room. “What do you think?”

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s…”

It’s not fine, but your mouth started saying so by default. You perch on the edge of your bed and stare at the stack of practice books that have been untouched for two days on your dresser. They would belong better under your bed where they’ll be out of sight.

Suddenly insecure, you ask, “You’re not gonna leave me, right? You’ll still help me peel potatoes and let me know when my artisan cookies are on sale?”

He chuckles. “The only way you can get away from me is by moving or by graduating. I’ll be here. Instead of nagging you to study, I’ll critique your anatomy.”

“That’s against the rules.” Nevertheless, you smile at the thought of Seungmin hyperfixed at your artistic renderings and comparing them against pictures from a textbook. “Thanks.”

Seungmin smiles back, and he radiates so much warmth that you forget it’s winter.

EPILOGUE

“Honey, I’m home,” you call.

You nearly trip over the door sill in your heels but catch yourself in time. Wearing heels to commencement is a bad idea for more reasons than one. Clutching your friend’s graduation bouquet, you flip on the light switch with the back of your hand and glance over your apartment. Other than the dozens of boxes scattered across the living room and kitchen, nothing else belongs to you; goodbye coffee table you stubbed your toes against too many times; goodbye peeling school-issued couch. You half-expected to see Seungmin lying on it, staring at the ceiling like he used to.

“Seungmin, where are you?” When he doesn’t answer, you try again. “Anyone home?”

You wander around the small apartment, checking behind doors and furniture like you’re playing hide-and-seek. He’s nowhere to be found, and you go through the apartment again in a frenzy. He could be in a different part of the building, but he always knows when you’re looking for him.

“Where are you? Seungmin, this isn’t funny! I know you can hear me.”

It takes twenty minutes, but you eventually realize he’s gone for good. No goodbyes, no hugs, no teasing—he just waved you off to your ceremony and shut the front door. You knew he wouldn’t be able to help you move out, but you thought he would still be here when you returned. He researched additional art classes for you, suggested works for your portfolio, and consoled you whenever you were overwhelmed. It’s a knife to your heart that he’s not here.

In between tears that you don’t allow to fall from your eyes, you carry your boxes of belongings to your car. You have a new place to call home, but two perfectly nice housemates and a dog aren’t good replacements for a ghost who annoyed you from sunrise to sundown.

I hope you find this note eventually. I know we have the rule where I’m not supposed to go through your belongings, but since we’re not going to be roommates any longer, I hope you’re not too mad. Completely unrelated but you’re really good at Mario Kart. So good. Birdo was designed specifically for you.

Congratulations on graduating. You’ve worked hard this year. Could have worked harder sometimes but you did it! Relax a bit during your gap year and enjoy your youth. Those art classes will be easy for you. Biomed visualization will be easy after pre-med studies.

Stop rolling your eyes and sighing. You know I’m right.

I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. I know you wanted it, but I don’t think I could have handled it. The truth is that I was ready to go a couple months ago when you started compiling your portfolio. For two years, I didn’t know why I was still here. At first, I thought my unfinished business was about the circumstances of my death. (Stop wincing. I’m dead. It’s a fact.) Then the administration stepped up. They did the bare minimum, to be honest, but at least changes were made. When you turned up, I thought I was supposed to fulfill my dream of going to med school. Turns out, I still have no idea what exactly why I was here, but seeing you live the life you want and choose the future you want makes me feel like business is finished.

To L/N Y/N, a star that will keep shining for decades to come—

I’m so proud of you and everything you’ve done so far. There are so many opportunities waiting out there for you, so don’t be afraid to take any chances. I’ll be with you always.

320 notes · View notes

deathbypufferfish · 1 year

Text

It's finally done cooking, my sims gameplay ideas list! After scouring all types of sites, generators, lists, and my brain for ingredients, I've come up with a list stew that hopefully will spark some inspiration for your sims gameplays!

This non exhaustive list consists of ideas that are applicable to sims gameplay/things to do in-game. AKA things that can be played out in the sims or half pretended. If you're looking for less-gameplay story ideas, I recommend my story/conflict idea list. Most of the conflict and love ideas are on that list. Please feel free to send asks to add to the gumbo! Just note in your ask that it's for the gumbo and keep it applicable/feasible for gameplay. (To keep the post from getting too long I'll make a contributor list into a compressed image later on for those who send off-anon.)

If you are looking for more complex, in-game story ideas check out the Story Soup list here!

🍲 Gumbo below the cut! ⬇

Single Sim Gameplay:

Learn an instrument

Learn a new skill

Start a seashell collection (Island Living)

Have a sim get a bad haircut

Enroll an Adult/Elder sim in university

Use a skill you don’t usually play with

Become a mountain climber

Build a Servo

Take care of local strays

Use more likes/dislikes

Conflict:

Drop out of or fail university

Drop out or fail out of highschool

Talk badly about another sim in your house to other sims

Sim loses their job

Failed retail business

Family:

Foster a child

Parties for children

Have a baby shower

Have a slumber party

A grandparent/other family member moves in with your main household

Have a specific family holiday tradition besides the in-game ones

Family bike rides

Game night

Parent trains child in their sport

Family hikes at Granite Falls

Family volunteering

Bake sale (entrepreneur table)

Have a family photoshoot

Have teens study at the library

Have your teen go through a bad fashion phase

Host an exchange student

Make school picture day photos (Teen poses, children poses)

Have an arts & crafts day

Go fishing as a family

Have a specific weekly meal (spaghetti night, a fancy meal)

Make ice cream together (Cool Kitchen Stuff)

Wear matching pajamas for holidays

Have a bake off

Play with voidcritters (Kids Room Stuff)

Granola family (camping, hiking, low tech, simple living)

Play in a multi-generational household

Adopt

Family reunion

Unexpected baby

Have siblings share a room

Social/Activities:

Sports party night (e.g. watching the superbowl, world cup, etc)

Start a book club (with clubs)

Have a themed kids birthday party (Here’s a helpful website for ideas)

Have a potluck (buffet tables)

Garden party

Neighborhood party

Neighborhood holiday decorating contest

Host a haunted house in your home

Picnic

Barbeque party

Go to the arcade

Go regularly to restaurants (Dine Out Reloaded Mod to make restaurants tolerable)

Have an out of control party (maybe a teen party)

Go camping

Go to an Ice skating rink/roller skating rink

Spa day (at home or at a spa)

Make an army of snowpals

Movie night

Stargazing night/camp out in the backyard

Weekly bowling night

Museum trip

Karaoke night at home

Campfire night

Pool day

Weekly meetups with friends at a cafe

Try on wedding dresses with a bridal party

Have someone stay over (Growing Together)

Love:

Hook up with a service sim

Have a vacation romance

Have a “meet the parents” moment

Have an affair

Divorce

Marital fight

Rejected proposal

Throuple/Open Relationship (Open Love Life Mod)

Left at the altar

Use fear of commitment, jealous, or unflirty trait

Create a rocky marriage

Challenges:

Spend too much money on a vacation

Play with lot challenges

Use simple living (only cook with ingredients and do grocery orders)

Don’t clean up after sims (don’t drag plates, laundry, trash)

Use the Reduce and Recyle lot challenge for realism

Use the Filthy lot challenge to make cleaning harder

Lose a large sum of money

Randomize your sims’ traits as they age up

Household:

Have puppies and kittens

A serious house fire (either with cheating or with fireworks. There is also a mod for more intense fires here

Spring cleaning

Garage sale

Visit houses before you move into them

Create a storage room/attic (Eco Living boxes, Discover University chest, toy chest, treasure chest etc) Use this for old heir’s items if you are playing a legacy

Start a garden (herb, vegetables)

Renovate the house

Watch what your pets are doing

Adopt a stray animal

Teach your pets tricks

Upgrade objects

Have a home bar/rec room

Go on a vacation

Play with roommates (additionally have them be odd, difficult, or a romance option)

Have an always messy home

Hire a live-in butler

Hire a regular maid

Location:

Play in a sustainable community on one of the islands/isolated areas. (community farm, community space, homes)

Play in a tiny home (Tiny Living)

Play in a haunted house residential (Paranormal Stuff)

Become an Archaeologist. Live in Sulani and regularly visit Selvadorado for work

Career/Business:

Bookstore

Art gallery: sell your paintings or buy them off Plopsy/Buy Mode

Bakery

Play a career you don’t usually play

Winter sports store in Mt. Komorebi

Own a farmstand for your produce (Eco Lifestyle entrepreneur table) You can even build a small building for it on your property!

Pet supplies store

Plant store

Tourist gift shop

Mattress/Bed store

Florist shop (Flower Arranging Skill)

Juicery (Juice Fizzing Skill)

Yoga studio (host classes at a retail business or at a home studio)

Start a Bed and Breakfast/AirBnB with the roommate system

Become a celebrity in a path besides Actor/Actress (Author, Chef, Video Creator, Skier, etc.)

Food truck (Restaurant)

Fish stall (Entrepreneur table)

Make a living on Plopsy

Wool store (Cottage Living)

Natural health store (Herbalism)

Resources Used

ADAM DRIVER GIF DISCLAIMER: YES I KNOW IT'S A STEW

#the sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 resource #simblr #sims 4 #ts4 inspo #sims 4 ideas #ts4 ideas #ts4 gameplay #puffer's gameplay gumbo #sorry there isnt a good stew gif my bad #i picked gumbo because it starts with a g #it could be a fucking lasgana i dont care #also addition asks to sections with less ideas are most welcome

859 notes · View notes

delicateflowerss · 9 months

Text

Don't Worry, Darling: Nine

After marrying the love of your life, Rafe Cameron, you thought you couldn't be happier. But when a murder shakes the island, you learn you don't know your husband as well as you thought. When does Paradise become Hell?

Warnings: 18+, mentions of past NON-CON, forced pregnancy, mentions of murder, mentions of drugging, violence, blood, dark!Rafe, kook!reader, non-canon ages

we are finally at the end, i can't believe it! thank you for reading and sticking with this series. please enjoy the final chapter <3

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 4k

The sound of your daughter’s cries barely registers with you. It’s more so the tugging of your dress to get your attention. You would think it’s something a child would do, but it’s only your husband.

“I think she wants you,” is all he says as he hands her to you.

You’re surprised Rafe wanted to hold her at all, especially at an event like this. But you realize it’s his way of showing how good of a father he is.

At least, that’s how he wants to present to the world.

You try to soothe her cries but when nothing works, you end up apologizing to your friends and finding a quieter place inside.

Your daughter is only a few months old, but Rafe really wanted to go to Topper and Audrey’s end of summer barbeque.

You tried to think like him, that your daughter could handle it. That you could handle it.

But as you stare at her wailing face, the only thing that comes to mind is how you wish you could cry like that.

It’s all over the news. You can’t even look at your phone without seeing a text from someone, shocked that Rafe has been arrested, that he’s been accused of murder.

So you stopped looking at your phone.

You barely got a wink of sleep last night and you’ve been cleaning since you gave up on getting any more rest.

But even when you think you’re occupying your mind, it’s busying itself elsewhere. You can’t get rid of this sinking feeling you have in your chest, like it’s getting harder and harder to breathe.

At this point, you’re not even sure where it comes from.

You haven’t wanted to think about any of it, Rafe being locked away or the pills you found.

Anytime you start to think about that pill bottle, your mind goes to a horrible place. So, you stop, your mind deciding that you’d rather not think at all.

But you ‘ve only done so much mindless cleaning before that familiar sound of a pickup truck in your driveway stops you in your tracks.

It’s a smaller truck than your husband’s, older too. A company logo adorns the side of it.

You expect him to go to the backyard, maintaining the pool like he usually does. But instead, he walks up to your front door, forcing you to move away from the window you’re spying from, hoping he didn’t see you.

The doorbell rings and you consider not answering it.

But it’s like your body screams at you to open the door for him.

He doesn’t look any different when you finally face him, the same worn-out work clothes, and messy blond locks.

He looks almost surprised you even answered the door.

He says your name like it’s unfamiliar to him.

“What are you doing?” you ask, desperately needing to know.

“I just…I heard about…I heard about Rafe,” he finally spits out.

When he doesn’t get a word or a twitch of a muscle in your face from you, he sighs.

“I just wanted to see if you were okay. But I won’t bother you-.”

You can tell by the way he moves his feet that he’s going to leave, so you stop him.

“No. You’re not bothering me,” you explain, opening the door wider. “You want to come in?”

He hesitates only slightly, and a relief floods his eyes as he accepts.

“Can I get you anything? Water, lemonade, I just made some iced tea-.”

You open the fridge, ready to grab whatever he wants.

He stops you merely by saying your name.

“You don’t need to do any of that for me. I want to know how you’re doing.”

You let the fridge door close. You can feel that heaviness that occupies your chest starting to come back.

“I’m sure it was a shock,” he continues. “When he was arrested.”

“Yeah,” you mumble, gaze finding the floor beneath you.

You don’t even realize that your fingers play with a loose thread coming from your dress.

“I can’t believe he was able to get away with it for so long. Even had his own wife fooled.”

“You’re acting like I’m an idiot or something, JJ.”

You see his eyes widen.

“No. Not at all,” he quickly says. “It’s Rafe. He’s a fucking psycho.”

That doesn’t exactly make you feel better.

Your hands unconsciously move to your stomach.

“Sometimes I think I’m just as awful as he is,” you say like you’re thinking aloud.

You look at JJ but it’s almost like you’re looking past him.

He shakes his head and scoffs as if you’ve said something stupid.

“I just feel like if I’m awful too, then what chance do they have?”

JJ freezes then, his eyes finding your tearful ones. A question lingers on his face as he drags his eyes to where your hands are – on your stomach.

He raises his eyebrows. “You’re pregnant?”

All you can do is nod.

“Shit,” he sighs out, running his hand through his hair.

He takes a moment to think, eyes anywhere but you. But they finally find you again.

He gives you an almost pained look before stepping closer to you.

He lets out a ragged breath before saying, “that baby is very lucky to have you as a mom. And I’m sorry if Rafe ever made you feel differently.”

You try to blink away the tears, but instead they fall down your cheeks.

“I just don’t know how everything could go so wrong. And all at once,” you add.

“Just know that you’re not alone. I’ll do anything I can. Also, I’m sure Sarah-.”

“Thanks, JJ,” you interrupt by hugging him.

For a moment, all the noise in your head is gone. There is no sinking feeling in your chest anymore. You can feel his arms wrap around you.

But the serene silence is replaced with an even worse feeling than the one before as you hear the front door being opened.

Fear.

You step back from JJ quickly as if you were burned by being too close to him.

Neither of you are fast enough to get out before he finds you.

“What the hell is this?”

Pure poison drips from his words as he looks between you and JJ.

You’re surprised to find JJ not even a bit scared to see Rafe, now a known murderer. Instead, he looks like he’s gearing up for a fight.

That doesn’t exactly help the mix of fear and worry that paints your face.

“They let you out of jail already?” JJ asks. “Surprising considering you killed two people. But that’s what enough money gets you, huh?”

Rafe seethes from JJ’s taunts, jaw ticking and brow furrowing. He’s spent one night in jail, and he already looks just a little rougher. His hair is messy, and his shirt is wrinkled.

“What the fuck are you doin’ in my house?” Rafe yells, practically lunging toward JJ.

JJ steps out of his way, trying to get closer to the front door.

“Rafe, stop! I invited him,” you try to explain.

“And why the hell would you do that?”

“Because!” You pause for a moment. “Because he’s been cleaning our pool for months.”

“What?” Rafe squints at you, anger pointed toward you now. “So, you’ve been lying to me?”

“I wasn’t lying. You never asked.”

“Have you been cheating on me too?” an accusatory tone in his voice.

“No,” you quickly reply.

“Like I would believe a word you say now.” He turns to JJ again, who has been torn between bolting and trying to help you.

“Have you really been cleaning our pool, or have you just been fucking my wife?” he asks him.

“Rafe,” you yell, disgusted by his words.

He inches closer to JJ, a hard glare set on a face that matches his own expression.

You see how Rafe’s fingers flex, forming into a fist every now and then.

You walk up to them, saying your husband’s name again. You’ve been able to get through to him before, but you don’t think you’ve seen him this furious, ever.

Of course, he ignores you.

“Is this you getting back at me, JJ? For all those times I beat the shit out of you. Cause I can do it again.”

“Rafe, stop it,” you try again.

You grab his arm, hoping it would stop him from punching JJ.

JJ just laughs.

“Wow, man. And Y/N really thought you changed.”

Now you feel like you’ve been the one punched in the gut.

“Just leave, JJ,” you tell him, knowing it’s the only way to keep a fight from happening.

He looks at you, a mix of worry and hurt in his eyes. You think he might argue with you but after a moment, he turns to Rafe.

“I don’t know why, but she really loves you,” he says, giving one last glare to Rafe before slipping through the front door.

“Get the hell outta here, JJ,” Rafe yells at the back of JJ’s head as he walks to his parked truck.

You wish you could feel more relief now that a fight has been averted, but that was just one fight. You know there’s another on the horizon.

“You know,” he starts. “I was really hoping to be coming home to some peace and quiet. Especially, after the night I had.”

His voice getting louder with each word, an anger passing through every syllable.

You can barely look at him, so you don’t.

“Do you know the filth I had to sleep in last night? Actually, I shouldn’t say that. I barely slept at all. And the whole time, you’re here, letting another man in my house.” He jabs his finger into his chest. “No, not a man,” he corrects himself. “A Pogue.”

You can feel your bottom lip trembling.

He digs his nails into the palm of his hand as he brings it to his face. It almost looks like he’s fighting off a migraine, and if he is, you know you’re the cause of it.

“I mean, is the baby even mine?”

“Of course, it’s yours. Why would you even say that?”

He throws his arms in the air, like the answer is obvious.

“I didn’t sleep with him, Rafe! I’ve never cheated on you. JJ is just a friend,” you try to convince him.

But it’s hard to convince someone you’re not lying, even when you’re telling the truth.

“A friend? The pool boy is a friend?” he asks, appalled you would say something like that.

“He’s friends with your sister. Doesn’t that mean anything?”

“Doesn’t mean anything good,” he simply says before walking upstairs.

You follow him, still upset that he thinks you’re lying.

“I need to take a shower,” he tells you, throwing his stuff down on the dresser in your bedroom.

“You don’t get to be mad at me, Rafe. I should be the one who’s mad.”

“And why is that?”

“Look around!” You wave your hands around wildly. “Our house, our life, our marriage, it’s a mess, Rafe. And it’s all your fault.”

“My fault. My fault?” He moves away from the bathroom, getting closer to you. “I was helping us, Y/N. The promotion was to give us more money, and everything else I did was to protect you. To protect our family.”

“Whatever,” you scoff. “You didn’t know I was pregnant when you were protecting your family.

Rafe casts his eyes downward, finding a spot on the floor to be more interesting.

“Right? You didn’t know I was pregnant,” you repeat. “Cause there really wouldn’t be a way for you to know before I did,” you say, knowing you’re actually asking a question.

Finally, he nods. “Yeah, I didn’t know.”

He still doesn’t look at you.

And for some reason, it shatters you. You feel like a million pieces on the floor, needing to be swept up and thrown away.

“What did you do, Rafe?”

You can hear yourself breaking, losing any grip you had on your sanity, dignity, and your hopeful delusion.

You don’t exactly know how, but you know he’s lying to you, and you know it has something to do with the night of Midsummers. The night you can’t remember putting yourself to bed. It has to do with the dream you had and the pills you found. It’s just taken this long to admit it to yourself.

“Please tell me you didn’t do something,” you plead.

The silence is suffocating.

He’s killed two people. Why is it hard for you to realize that he could do something just as evil, if not more?

“Rafe!”

“What?” He finally meets your gaze. “What do you want me to say? I’ve told you that everything I did, I did it for us. I don’t know why you can’t see that.”

You don’t think you can look at him for another second without being violently ill.

Once you storm downstairs, he’s right on your heels, not letting you leave his sight.

You can hear him trying to justify his actions, explaining, but it just sounds like noise to you.

You’re not exactly thinking, more so acting on impulse, on the emotions clouding your mind.

On the kitchen counter, sits the knife block. You barely think about it as you grab the sharpest knife out of the bunch.

He has to step away from you to avoid the knife grazing him. You wave it at him, pointing the shiny steel directly at him – his chest, his neck, somewhere he really wouldn’t want to get stabbed.

“You raped me!” The words erupt out of you. “You drugged me, and you raped me. Tell me I’m wrong.”

His blue eyes widen with shock and traces of fear. He keeps his hands up. His palms open to show that he’s defenseless.

A sick part of you feels satisfied to see him be the one who’s scared and weak.

“Calm down, okay?”

“No! Answer me,” you yell, voice coarse.

“Not until you put the knife down.”

His unusually level tone chips away at your anger and your stubbornness. You readjust your grip on the knife as you glance away from him for a second.

That’s all he needs in order to roughly grab your wrist and to push you into the kitchen counter behind you.

You groan out in pain as your back hits the edge of the marble. Rafe is able to pry the knife out of your hand, also painfully.

You hear the knife clatter to the ground as you realize you might need to admit defeat.

He keeps your body pinned with his, his grasp still on your wrist, meaning you can’t move away from him.

“I can’t rape my own wife.” His tone is cold, and it almost sounds like it comes from a man who only looks like your husband but isn’t actually him. “When I put that ring on your finger, it meant I could crawl on top of you and do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted.”

Your tears don’t stop him.

“What is in between your legs is mine. So that means if I want to get you pregnant, it is my right to do that.”

He pauses, the only sound are the sobs you try to stop from coming out.

“All of this went on for way too long,” he continues. “I didn’t mind you having a job at first, it made you happy, it gave you some semblance of control.”

You wince as his grip on your wrist gets tighter.

“But I didn’t think it would get in the way of us having a family,” he continues. “I didn’t think you would choose it over me.”

You shake your head, wanting to say something, but nothing cohesive can be formed in your head right now.

He lets go of your wrist, taking your hand in his instead.

“All I did…” he pauses, kissing the back of your hand while still holding it. “…was show you what you really wanted.”

“Get off me, Rafe,” you say quietly. But when he doesn’t move, you push him with all your strength and yell, “get off me!”

He looks at you like a wounded puppy, like he feels rejected by you, like he doesn’t know how fucked up what he just said was.

You move back, trying to put enough space between the two of you. You’re still crying, tears streaming down your face as your chest heaves.

You try to speak through ragged breaths.

“I really thought you could have become a good person, Rafe. I really thought all that violence, all that bullying, was just you being young and stupid. But it’s who you are, and you can’t change it.”

You notice his eyes filling with tears before he sniffles, glaring at you to try and prevent any crying.

You continue, “I should have known that you can’t change someone who has a soul so dark, that they suck all the light out of anyone they’re close to. And that’s what you did to me. And that’s what you’ll do to this baby.”

The sobs have stopped, rage replacing the heaving.

“So, you might have been bailed out by your father. But there’s no way you’re not going to prison. Or worse,” you add. “I’ll tell them everything. I’ll make sure that they find you guilty. And I’ll be glad. I’ll be glad that you’ll be far away from me.”

You stare at him, a scowl written on his face until it morphs into laughter.

“And how is that going to work out for you? I’ll tell them everything also.”

He steps closer to you, and you can feel that suffocation again.

“I’ll tell them how you helped me hide the body. How you’ve known for weeks, how you’ve lied to the police and lied to everyone you know. You think they’re not going to send your ass to prison too?” He flashes his teeth at you. “And believe me, you wouldn’t last a day.”

He walks around you, like a predator circling its prey.

“But if you do manage to last,” he continues. “They’ll let you give birth in prison. Then, it’s bye-bye baby. My parents will probably adopt, but even when you get out, doesn’t mean they’ll let you see the kid.”

He stops in front of you, darkness filling his eyes as he sees fear fill yours.

“You’ll never have custody. Your child probably won’t even call you mom.”

“Stop, Rafe.”

“So, if you do what you say you’re going to do, that baby isn’t going to have any parents.”

You can feel your stomach twisting and your chest getting tighter. You don’t want to go to prison, you don’t want to lose your baby, and you absolutely don’t want your in-laws raising your child to be just like Rafe.

You finally look at him, meeting his gaze.

“I don’t want that to happen.”

Your voice barely sounds like your own, it sounds tired and worn-out.

“And I’m not going to let that happen,” he says, a concern in his voice that wasn’t there before, so you wonder if he feigns it. “But you need to be on my side, alright?”

You would rather gouge your eyes out than be on his side, but what other choice do you have?

“Neither of us are going to prison,” he explains. “But that means, someone else killed those guys.”

You furrow your brow, not understanding what he means.

“JJ killed those guys.”

“What?”

“He’s had this revenge plot against me,” he says it like he’s telling the truth. “For all those stupid fights, he decided he wanted to get back at me. So, he became our pool boy, got access inside our house, and framed me. Used my gun, left evidence, just so the police would come after me.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, in denial, that this is actually Rafe’s plan.

“It’s the perfect story, Y/N. Come on.”

“Rafe, I know you think something happened between-.”

He stops you by softly putting his hands on your shoulders.

“I know nothing happened between you and JJ,” he says calmly. “But he’s the only person that has been to our house. Every week, right? And right around when the first murder happened.”

“Rafe. I’m not putting an innocent man in jail. He’s a good person.”

He just shakes his head.

“It’s either him or us. We have a life, Y/N. A baby on the way.” Rafe’s voice rises with a familiar anger. “What does JJ have? He’s never going to be anything. We’re doing him a favor.”

You close your eyes momentarily, and when you open them, your vision of Rafe is blurry.

“I don’t love you anymore. And if you do this, I know I’ll never love you again,” you tell him as a tear falls onto your lips.

He thinks for a moment before bending down and placing a kiss on your stomach.

He stands to his full height, looking down at you.

“At least, I won’t be in prison.”

You thought you would never be able to do this. To be able to go back to the way things used to be.

Except, things will never be the way they used to be.

Now all you do is pretend. And it makes you wonder if that is what you were doing all along.

Your wrist grows tired from stirring the mashed potatoes. You think you may have been stirring for too long. Your mind and your arm aren’t connected.

It’s almost like you’re a machine, programmed to do the same things every day.

You lock eyes with your daughter who sits in her highchair.

You feel a spark of joy somewhere deep inside.

The fact is you were never the same after that day.

But you did what you were taught, to push down any emotions, to pretend that everything is okay.

Your testimony helped an innocent man be sent to prison for the rest of his life. You watched Rafe lie through his teeth so JJ would be the one taking his spot.

Normally, something like that would make you sick, make you so angry you couldn’t think straight.

But not now.

You thought it would be hard to let Rafe touch you again. You thought you would be reminded of the night you barely remember anytime you could feel his skin on yours. But you just taught yourself to think about it differently, or not at all.

If he hadn’t done it, you wouldn’t have your daughter. You know he loves you. He loves you so much it makes him crazy. That’s what you think about when he’s on top of you at night, thrusting into you so hard it almost hurts.

But that’s what love is, it hurts.

Sometimes, you wonder if you’ll snap one day. Maybe five years from now, it will be Rafe’s murder that everyone will see on the news.

You might not even care when they take you away, handcuffed. You might even feel happy.

But those thoughts are fleeting.

You know Rafe is home because your daughter’s attention is finally taken from you.

She smiles when he steps into the kitchen.

And it almost makes you smile.

“It smells good in here,” he comments.

“It’s almost done.”

“Good. I’m starving. I had such a busy day at work,” he sighs, setting his things down.

“You’ll have to tell me all about it.”

The oven beeps, and before you can open it, Rafe stops you with a hand on your waist.

“Is that a pot roast in there? How did I get so lucky?” he asks against your lips before kissing them with brutal affection.

You meet his roughness, nicking his lip with your teeth in the process.

He pulls back, a bead of crimson pours from his lip.

If there is love between you and Rafe, this is what it is – dark, bloody, and violent for everyone around.

Tags:

@fangirlwithlou @thebuttofcaptainamerica @lovedetlost @kkmstblog @whorefordrew @gillybear17 @alinaharlow @nichmeddar @coriellesmarya @rafeslovergirl @hysteriahall @loves0phelia @igotmessymind @djconde58 @imsorare @bbqsauceonmyt1tties @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @malfoytargaryen @craftyalmondghostflap @maggiec @fulla02 @starkeylover @brunetteonearth @lovurry @ohemgeewhat @babyspice6 @lmg-stilinski24 @f4ll-for-you @deems-16 @rgeraldg @ellabellabus07 @mryneedend @gills-lounge @klips118 @runningfrom2am @ilovesteveharrngton @obaex @spear-bearing-bi-witch @bellstwd @hehehehesthings

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #obx #outer banks #dark!rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron x reader

275 notes · View notes

mysteryshoptls · 8 months

Text

SR Ace Trappola - Beach Wear Vignette

"An amazing and memorable summer"

[Uninhabited Island – Cottage]

Ace: HIYAH!

[wind magic]

Ace: Awesome, bullseye! Finish 'em off, Housewarden!

Riddle: I don't need you to tell me twice. HUP!!

[fire magic]

Ace: That's a Housewarden for you! Alllright, let's nab all the parts ASAP.

Riddle: You've improved, Ace. But the number of robot attacks seems to be increasing.

Ace: Yeahhh. Maybe Gantu's finally taking it seriously?

Riddle: …Everyone is so elated by the resort and surfing, but I believe we should take a breather to think more seriously.

Riddle: At dinner, we should speak to determining a security system.

Ace: So I got stuck patrolling around the cottage based on Riddle-ryōchō's suggestion…

1. Let's do our best! 2. I'll join you.

Grim: Nyahaha! Gantu's robots ain't no match for me～!

Stitch: Yeehaw ♪

Ace: NO, BUT SERIOUSLY, WHY AM I STUCK WITH THESE GUYS!? THIS DOESN'T MAKE ME FEEL ANY SAFER!

Ace: Stitch is one thing, but you two from Ramshackle're not really good for fighting!

Grim: Whaddya say～!? Humph, I ain't gonna save you if you're attacked by a robot.

Ace: That's my line. Don't get lost wandering around on your own.

Ace: Anyway, [Yuu], you better not leave my side, especially 'cause you can't use magic.

[nods]

Ace: Eh, I mean, I guess we don't really run into any of those robots at night anyway, so I think you'll be alright.

Grim: Alllright, so let's get this patrol on the road. Follow me!

[Uninhabited Island – Tropical Forest]

Ace: Wheew～ The breeze's nice. It's great to have since it's still pretty humid at night.

Ace: I was worried what would happen bein' stranded on this deserted island and all…

Ace: But thanks to us having that cottage, I'd say we're survivin' pretty comfortably.

Ace: If we didn't have Stitch or our upperclassmen, we'd probably have been stuck sleeping in that cave the whole time.

Ace: Thanks, Stitch.

Stitch: Ehe!

Grim: Funyaa! Hey, I also was out there collecting vines and branches and fruits and any other stuff out there we could use!

Ace: Sure, you're helping in your own little way, but when it comes to the fruit, you were basically eating them as soon as you found them.

Grim: That’s… Uh… Yeah, I was tasting to make sure it was good! It woulda been bad if you all got upset stomachs, after all!

Ace: If you eat everything yourself, then that's no longer taste testing.

Ace: Eh, I mean, it's not like I really want fruit, anyway. All of Floyd-senpai's dishes were totally delish.

Ace: The white fish sauté, the seafood simmered in coconut milk, the carpaccio, and that fruit salad...

Ace: All those dishes tasted like they came right out of a restaurant. There's no way I'd be able to go back to normal food after that.

Stitch: Right!

Grim: I wanna barbeque again! I can't get enough of that juicy, savory flavor of all that shellfish～

1. The grilled shrimp was delicious.

Ace: Totally. It's gotta be the fact that all these ingredients are super fresh that it tastes so good.

2. The meat was good, too.

Ace: I totally get it. I'm still a growing boy, y'know? Fish is good and all, but it's just not enough without some actual meat.

Ace: The cottage and food are getting' more and more extravagant, so it really feels like we're at a private beach resort.

Ace: Gettin' to be more of a celebrity getaway, 'stead of us being stranded. Honestly, I've always wanted to experience something like this.

[Grim's stomach growls]

Grim: Funyaa～ …All that talk of food's making me hungry. Hey, hey, why don't we go back to the cottage already?

Grim: The other guys are also out patrolling, so they'll all be fine without us.

Ace: Don't be stupid, Grim. Riddle-ryōchō and Azul-senpai are still at the cottage.

Ace: If it's found out that we slacked off, we'll definitely lose our heads.

Ace: C'mon, we're basically living that resort lifestyle, no one wants to be wearing that heavy collar around. Let's just do our job and patrol.

Ace: And besides, Gantu's capturing robots won't pop out at us, so… Just going on a stroll while chattin' it up ain't bad once in a while.

Ace: Honestly, being around my Housewarden, or my basketball clubmates day in and day out just kinda tires me out.

1. Yeah, seems like.

Ace: I knew you'd get me.

2. Doesn't look like it to me…

Ace: You don't get it at all. 'Sides, it's called being polite not showing how tired I am!

Ace: Putting that aside… This has been pretty great, hasn't it? We all got to go surfing together, too.

Ace: Whatever else there might be, don't you think this is turning out to be an amazing and memorable summer?

[Uninhabited Island - Tropical Forest]

Ace: Putting that aside… This has been pretty great, hasn't it? We all got to go surfing together, too.

Ace: Whatever else there might be, don't you think this is turning out to be an amazing and memorable summer?

Ace: Sucks that my phone battery died so I couldn't take any pictures…

Ace: But when we get back to campus, we totally gotta brag to Deuce that we had an awesome vacation on a tropical island.

Grim: Yeah! Deuce is probably super depressed right now.

1. It would have nice if we could all have come together.

Ace: I wonder～ Well, I guess he does have a ton of stamina, so he might have been super useful gathering water and food.

2. It would be nice to come together next time.

Ace: EH, NEXT TIME!? I mean, sure, we're having fun and all, but I definitely don't want to get stranded like this a second time.

Ace: But hey, I guess I feel sorry for him that he was the only one left behind.

Ace: Guess it wouldn't be too bad to invite Deuce and we all go somewhere together for summer vacation.

Stitch: Ohana?

Grim: Hm? You talking about Deuce? Yeah, he's another one that I look after.

Ace: I question who's looking after who, here…

1. He's our friend. 2. We get along well.

Stitch: Great!

[rustle, rustle]

Ace: Hm? Did you guys hear something behind us?

Grim: Probably just the leaves rustlin' in the wind. Look at you, a real worrywart.

1. Huh? Where'd Stitch go? 2. Wait. Stitch is gone!

Ace: Stitch? If you're still here, say something.

Ace: No way. I got a bad feeling…

Ace: EH!?

Grim: Hey! Stitch! You better not be trying to scare me… HRMPH!

Ace: Shhhh!!! Both of you stay quiet.

Ace: I knew it… Something huge is coming this way.

Ace: Is it an enemy? Shoot, of all times to show up, it had to be right when we lost Stitch.

[rustle, rustle, rustle!]

Grim: Eek… Th-Those footsteps are getting closer!

Ace: I'll do what I can to stop them. So you two need to head back to the cottage and go get my Housewarden and Azul-senpai.

Ace: When I give you the signal, run and don't look back. …It'll be fine. I'll be able to fight them off, at least until you get back.

Ace: …Here we go.

Ace: [YUU], GRIM! RUN!!!

???: GRAAAWR!!!!

Ace: I WON'T LET YOU PASS ME!

Ace: I'll beat yo… Uh, wait. Huh?

Floyd: Boo～! Whaddya think, did I scare you?

Ace: FLOYD-SENPAI!? AND STITCH!?

Ace: O-Oh, come on～～! Don't scare me like that!!

Floyd: Aha! Look how scared you were, Crab-chan. Hilarious!

Stitch: Yahahaha!

Ace: Hey, you, Stitch～! You totally abandoned us when you realized Floyd-senpai was near, didn't you?

Ace: And here I was praising you so much, and that's how you repay me?

Floyd: Just let it go. "I won't let you pass me," you said? Don't think I've ever said that kind of line before.

Floyd: [whistles] Crab-chan, you're so coool～ You thought so too, right, Shrimpy-chan?

1. You were totally cool. 2. Thanks for protecting us!

Ace: Ughhhhh! Floyd-senpai, stop teasing me!

Ace: And the rest of you better not join in, either! Don't tell anyone about what just happened.

Grim: Nyahaha, maybe I will, maybe I won't～

Ace: If Trey-senpai or Cater-senpai, or even Deuce hears about it… They won't ever let me live it down.

Floyd: Ah, don't get all crabby on me. There's some chilled jelly waiting for us when we get back to the cottage.

Ace: Whose fault do you think this is…

Ace: No, it's fine, I guess I am pretty hungry, so I'll take that jelly and call it even.

Ace: Sigh, I feel so tired all of a sudden. And the best way to get rid of this icky feeling is…

Ace: To eat some delicious food again tomorrow with everyone and just have as big a blast as I possibly can!

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #ace trappola #riddle rosehearts #floyd leech #twst ace #twst riddle #twst floyd #twst grim #twst stitch #twst translation #twst lost in the book with stitch #mention: deuce #mention: cater #mention: trey #mention: azul

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phoenixsbby · 2 years

Note

can you write something with Hangman where y/n is pregnant and she’s at a Dagger Squad dinner and she received some comments about how big her belly is compared to the other women, so she refused the chocolate cake dessert and Hangman follows her after the dinner in the kitchen, seeing her crying and stuff ?

thank you for the request :')

warnings: mentions of body size/weight, swearing

——

You’ve been eyeing that chocolate cake since the minute you arrived at the barbeque your husband, Lieutenant Jake Seresin, had been invited to. It was huge and looked moist and mouth watering and you could only partially blame the pregnancy hormones for wanting to shove the entire thing in your mouth with your bare hands. You’ve waited patiently though instead of giving into your chaotic, intrusive thoughts.

You’ve gone through the motions of talking with all of your husbands colleagues, you’ve spent time playing yard games with different members of the Dagger Squad (you totally didn’t get too excited and caused a scene when you and Rooster beat Bob and Phoenix in corn hole), and you ate your fair share of dinner.

And when it’s finally time for dessert, you do not hesitate in stepping up and grabbing a big piece of that beautiful cake. You see no shame in it, wanting to eat dessert. Not only because your pregnant and rightfully deserve to treat your baby to this homemade masterpiece but also, because if someone wants to eat some cake then who gives a fuck?

The piece of cake you have dangling at the threshold of your mouth freezes mid air when you make direct eye contact with one of your least favorite pilots you’ve had the (dis)pleasure of knowing since Jake had been stationed in North Island. Cobra.

You hold eye contact for a beat of silence, still with your cake hovering, and watch as he raises his eyebrows and dips his gaze down to your body. You can feel the judgement rolling off of him, in the way he’s staring at you when your eyes reconnect.

Without taking a bite of the cake that’s been teasing you all night, you place your fork back down on your plate.

“Can I help you?” You try to keep your tone sweet but there’s no missing the rigidity behind it. You completely stopped caring about being polite to this guy pretty quickly after hearing about the multiple sexist “jokes” and negative comments about other pilots he’s made in the past. You’re not a pilot yourself but, you’ve heard enough stories from Jake about Cobra to how shitty of a teammate (and person) he is.

“No, I just ..” Cobra purses his lips and shakes his head. You roll your eyes so hard, you’re surprised they don’t fall out of your head.

“Just what?”

“You really think you should be eating that?” He tilts his head ever so slightly to the side as he says it and you’ve never been a violent person but suddenly, you’re ready to swing.

“Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on Y/N.” He grins and your blood turns from lukewarm to boiling hot inside your veins. He takes a step closer to which you react by taking one backwards. He dips his head close and adds, “We both know you’ve gained a some weight recently. You don’t see any other females here shoving cake in their mouths, do you?”

You haven’t told anyone that you’re pregnant other than your husband. It’s still early and it’s been a busy, stressful time at work for Jake so, you both agreed to push off telling everyone for now. And yes, during the time since you found out, your body has changed which is completely healthy and natural when you’re growing another human inside you! But the fact that Cobra doesn’t even know that and is still commenting on your weight, it makes you sick.

You want to scream and yell at him, to tell him off, to ask him where he gets the nerve to talk to anyone about their body but, all you do is blink. Your eyes instinctually flicker around the other women at the party. The other wives and girlfriends and pilots at the party are all beautiful and fit in their own right. Suddenly, despite knowing your body is doing its natural thing to support you during this stage in your life, you feel inferior to them in every way.

“Sorry to be so up front about it.” Cobra adds. Sorry my ass. “But, I think I’m doing you a favor. Maybe switch the cake out for some fruit or something.”

You glance down at the cake on your plate, the once delicious dessert looks about as appetizing as a pile of dirt and worms now.

An arm wraps itself around your shoulders and pulls you into a firm body. You glance up and see Coyote looking at you with furrowed brows.

“You okay?” He discreetly wipes a tear off of your cheek that you didn’t even know fell. Despite the answer being no, you nod weakly.

“I need to use the bathroom.” You croak out before shoving your plate in Coyote’s direction and making a beeline for the house. Faintly as you walk away, you hear Coyote throw a ‘what the hell did you do?’ at Cobra. But, you don’t care enough to stop or listen to the ways Cobra will spin this so he’s the victim. All you care about is getting away from these people to cry your eyes out and try your best to not make a scene at your husbands work party.

You don’t find the bathroom, instead you find a small secondary pantry in the back of the house to have a mini break down in. You slump against the wall and finally let all of the tears you can feel prickling at your dry eyes fall.

You feel like you’re being ripped in half. One half of you, the arguably more reasonable half, knows there is nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone’s body is unique. Some bodies are small, some are big, they all change under different circumstances. Body size does not determine a persons worth. Nothing gives someone the right to comment on another persons body the way Cobra did yours. The only person who should feel ashamed here is him.

Yet the other half of you lets his words stick to your skin like glue until they seep through many, many layers of yourself, until you can feel them festering inside of you. Maybe you could be making better eating choices? Maybe you should be eating more fruit? You don’t know because this is your first pregnancy and its hard to be a mother! But, you’re trying your absolute best to figure it out. Shouldn’t that count for something?

You’re outright sobbing when you feel arms encase your body and pull you flush against a hard, warm chest. One hand cradles your head while the other rubs soothing circles against your back. One deep inhale of a spicy and sweet familiar scent is all you need to know who’s holding you - Jake.

“What’s going on?” He murmurs into your hair, voice laced with concern as he squeezes you tightly against him. He knows what’s going on, Coyote came and found him the minute Cobra told him what he had said to you. Despite Cobra trying to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal, Coyote could see right through the bullshit.

Jake had two options; hit the fucker that thought it was okay to comment on his wife’s body or find his wife who he knew needed him in that moment. It was a no brainer (okay, he did consider hitting Cobra for a hot second), he had to find you.

“I-“ you try to explain it but, the words collide with a sob that’s already lodged in your throat.

“Take some deep breaths.” You feel him inhale a deep breath of his own, hold it, then release an equally long exhale. “Come on, baby.” He inhales another, prompting you to follow along.

The first few breaths you take are jagged and short, some leave you gasping for more air. But after continued encouragement from Jake, eventually your breathing returns to a somewhat rhythmic state. Your heart no longer feels like its jackhammering its way out of your ribcage, your thoughts about your body and being a good mother are no longer stirring up a storm in your mind. You feel calm there, in that pantry, wrapped up in your loving husbands embrace.

“There she is.” He smiles, soft and sweet, as you pull away from him just enough to see his face. He wipes away the lingering wetness of tears on your cheeks before leaving his hands there to cup them.

“I feel-“ you struggle again to find words to accuracy describe this feeling. You settle on motioning the shape of a balloon with your hands and take another shaky, deep breath.

“Whatever that snake said to you out there, it’s not even remotely close to the truth.” Jake tilts his head and rubs his thumbs gently across your skin.

“Isn’t it? I mean, I have put on some weight.”

“Because you’re pregnant, Y/N.”

“But, we’ve all seen those women who stay in such good shape when they’re pregnant like you can’t even tell they’re pregnant until the day before they pop that baby out! And all they drink is kale smoothies and their favorite midnight snack is baby carrots. They definitely do not eat chocolate cake!”

“Y/N,” Jake tilts your head up away from your belly to look him directly in the eye. “Everyone’s body is different. And I happen to think yours is amazing.” You scoff and try to look away but, he holds your eyes to his. “Whether you gain or lose weight, if you grow a foot or shrink a foot, I will always think your body is amazing. Not only because you’re growing our baby in there,” he places a hand on your lower stomach “but also because it’s yours. You are so beautiful.”

You melt into his touch and rest your forehead against his. You have no idea what you did to get so lucky in loving a man like this, one of the good ones. He kisses you slowly, letting every ounce of his love translate from his lips directly to yours.

You groan the second your lips break apart and slump into his hold. You feel his laugh vibrate against your chest as he holds you up.

‘What is it?”

“I can’t believe I let that dickhead talk me into not eating that cake. I bet it’s all gone by now.” You pout into his chest before he puts his hands on your forearms and pulls you off of him. You narrow your eyes at the way he’s smirking at you.

Wordlessly, he reaches behind you and by the time he’s fully back in your field of vision, he’s holding your plate with the same piece of cake on it from before. You gasp and smile, so bright and contagious and Hangman can’t believe he gets to witness something that gorgeous.

“Oh, I love you! I love you, I love you, I love you.” You squeal as you take the plate from his hands and don’t hesitate in sticking a forkful of cake into your mouth. You moan and let your eyes flutter shut at the gooey goodness of it. “You’re the best.”

“Don’t I know it.” Jake chuckles as his thumb swipes away a crumb from the corner of your mouth.

“Uhhhh … I was talking to the cake.”

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #hangman x reader #hangman fanfiction #jake 'hangman' seresin fanfiction #top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick fanfiction #jake 'hangman' seresin #hangman blurb

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bbqbills2 · 7 days

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obaex · 9 months

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see you in my nightmares - rafe cameron

summary: rafe is forced to make a decision that will alter the course of your future together, but how long can he live with the consequences of his actions?

word count: 6k

warnings: angst!

inspo: welcome to breakbreak / kanye west. but honestly back to december / taylor swift just hits so hard. i'm not a swiftie personally (pls don't cancel me) but i cannot deny the fit.

Maybe this is wishful thinking Probably mindless dreaming But if we loved again, I swear I'd love you right

Present

"Here you go, Kelc, that's Henry and that's Emma" Topper said, pointing to the picture on his phone of your two children, one and three, with bright blonde hair, squealing with laughter at the beach. He continued to swipe through photo after photo of them playing in the sand, in the water, finally landing on a picture of you crouched in the sand with them, their arms and popsicle-stained fingers wrapped around your neck as they climbed on you, pressing kisses to your cheeks.

"Get out of here, Top, Henry is your mini me. Holy shit. It's kinda freaking me out, I'm not gonna lie" Kelce said. "He's gonna suck at golf too if you don't let Uncle Kelce show him a thing or two." He punched Topper playfully in the arm as Topper grimaced at him.

"Nah, in all seriousness, man, you've got it made. Your kids are beautiful and Y/N looks better than ever" he said, shooting Topper a knowing look, one eyebrow raised scandalously. "Being a Thornton looks good on her man, shiiiiittt" he said, still swiping through Topper's phone where he had landed on a picture Topper had snuck of you sprawled out in your bikini.

"Geezus, give that back!" Topper said, nearly launching himself at Kelce, reaching for the phone as Kelce held it out of his reach, inspiring a howl of laughter from the group of guys they were with. They whistled and cheered as Topper wrestled the phone out of Kelce's hands.

"I leave you assholes alone for a few years and this is what I come back to?" a deep voice cut through the chaos.

Kelce's eyes flickered to the voice. "Do my eyes deceive me or has the man, the myth, the legend come back to grace our presence gentlemen?" he said, relinquishing Topper's phone as he stood up to take in Rafe Cameron on the deck of the Island Club for the first time in three years.

Rafe looked older, more mature with his hair shaved, but his boyish grin still rested on his lips. He had grown into his lanky body, filling out a suit that was more expensive than Kelce could mentally calculate.

"Un-fucking-believeable, man!" Kelce said, launching himself to embrace Rafe as a few of the other guys also stood up to shake his hand and clap him on the back, launching a barrage of questions at him.

Topper hung back as the memory of what life was like the last time Rafe was on Kildare Island clawed its way to the forefront of his mind. He slipped his phone protectively into his back pocket.

"Don't let me interrupt" Rafe said as he noticed Topper's movement, "what was I missing?"

The atmosphere shifted noticeably as the rowdy group fell silent.

3 Years Ago

Rafe watched you through the sea of bodies in the backyard at Tanneyhill as you talked with Sarah and Wheezie at their family barbeque. He watched your eyes shimmer and your lips curve into a perfect smile as you laughed at something his sisters had said, his ears straining over the music for a chance to hear that perfect sound that made his heart dance. He took in your sundress, draped over your shoulders, sitting perfectly on your tanned skin. After almost five years together, he could never get enough of you, could never wrap his head around how beautiful you were, how lucky he was to be yours. You lifted your eyes, scanning the crowd, searching for him and when they rested on him it was like fireflies in his stomach to see your face light up for him. You looked at him with such admiration, joy and happiness. He smiled broadly at you and stood to make his way over to you just as Topper joined your group, jumping into your conversation with his sisters and stealing your attention away to offer you a big hug.

Rafe hung back for just a second longer, watching the way Topper listened to Sarah but continued to shoot sidelong glances at you that went unnoticed, eyes shifting to your profile, your sundress. Rafe knew that tactic, knew that look in Topper's eyes because it was the same damn way he looked at you. His feet were moving before he could register what he was going to say or do. He tried to gather himself as he sidled into your group and slid a hand around your waist, pulling you flush against him. Topper had the decency to look embarrassed as he blushed and cleared his throat before sticking his hand out. "Good to see you, man" he said.

"You too, Top" Rafe said, eyes narrowed.

The next morning, Topper was long off of Rafe's mind as he lay in bed and watched the early morning sun shine through the blinds in his room, casting spotlights of warmth on your bare back as he drank you in, thinking not just for the thousandth time how lucky he was to have you curled up beside him, tangled in his sheets that now smelled permanently like you, like a perfect summer day. His heart warmed at the sight of you. You were everything that was perfectly right in his life. He felt himself orbiting around you, drawn to you like the moon draws the tides.

You shifted slightly in your sleep, letting out a contented sigh that was both extremely cute and undeniably sexy at the same time, making him smile. His mind drifted to the ring in the velvet box stashed at the top of his closet. His heart raced at the idea of making you his. His fingers twitched, aching to run his hands over you and eventually his urge won out as he moved his fingers over your back and pulled you gently against his chest, nuzzling into your neck. You let out a sweet laugh that coated him like hot honey as you turned around and buried yourself in his chest, nuzzling him back as his warm arms wrapped snuggly around you. This is heaven on earth he thought.

Present

Topper stood, his hand outstretched, ever the gentleman, as he attempted to change the topic. "It's good to see you, Rafe, welcome back, man."

Rafe took Topper's hand in his strong grip, nodding again to Topper's phone, "well, don't leave me hanging, are you going to show me what had everyone so riled up?"

3 Years Ago

"Sit" Ward said, gesturing to one of the leather arm chairs in his office as he walked to a side table to pour two drinks.

"Dad, I can't, I'm on my way to pick up Y/N, we have reservations in 20 minutes."

"She's what I want to talk to you about, son."

His father had never offered to talk about anything that didn't have to do with work. Rafe's chest bloomed with the idea that he wanted to have a conversation about you, that Ward was finally coming to understand how important you were to him.

He placed the drink in front of Rafe without meeting his eyes. "I know about the ring" he said simply.

Rafe's head shot up at that. He didn't think anyone knew about that, purposely taking a trip to the jeweler on the mainland alone, spending an entire afternoon picking out what was just right for you. As Rafe was getting ready to ask, Ward simply held up his hand, whisking away the question in a gesture that said Of course I know, I know everything.

"Son, man to man, I'm telling you, this isn't a good idea."

"What?!" Rafe said, anger and shock roiling in him, so taken aback at where this conversation was headed he stood to his feet.

"You love her, that's plain to see, Rafe. Which is why I know you'll do the right thing. She's a good girl, Rafe, a sweet girl, she deserves someone that can give her the future she deserves. Someone with... fewer skeletons in their closet." Silence fell heavily between them as Rafe met his eyes in a cold stare. They had never spoken about Peterkin directly or indirectly since it had happened. Ward moved to his desk, pulling out what looked to be a tape recorder and pressed play. Gavin's voice rang clearly, "...He's protecting his son. It was Rafe Cameron that killed Sheriff Peterkin."

Rafe nearly dropped the glass of bourbon in his hand, managing to set it down at the last minute. "W-What are you doing with that?" he asked, gesturing manically to the tape recorder, his voice rising in panic. "Dad, what the fuck is that, what are you doing?!"

"I'm not doing anything, Rafe" he said as he slid the tape recorder back into his desk drawer. "This tape will never be played for anyone else. I want to be sure of that. I want you to help me be sure of that. I need you focused now more than ever, focused on the company, not focused on Y/N. You know what you need to do." And with that, he waved Rafe out of his office.

Rafe stumbled into the hallway, shutting the door behind him, his hands shaking as he shoved the heel of his palms into his eyes. He could feel the sweat gathering at the base of his neck as he began to pace, his mind going a mile a minute.

What Ward hadn't considered was the fact that Rafe had already told you. He'd told you everything, about his drug addiction, about Peterkin, about the darkest parts of his soul... and you had stayed with him through it all, through rehab, through recovery, through finding a way to forgive himself. But all of that was before the threat Ward had just dangled in front of him, the threat that he would ruin Rafe's future and by extension your own, that one day he could hand that recording in and you would be left alone, abandoned as Rafe spent the rest of his life in prison. "She's a good girl, Rafe, a sweet girl, she deserves someone that can give her the future she deserves." He swallowed the bile in his throat as he realized his dad was right.

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and he swiped it open to see an incoming text from you.

He spent several minutes thinking about how to reply before typing out, "Hey, sorry, something came up, can we reschedule?"

Present

Topper cleared his throat. If he had known Rafe was coming tonight, he wouldn't be here.

His phone burned in his pocket with the pictures of you, his wife with his children. Rafe had lost the right to ask about you 3 years ago. Rafe's gaze was on Topper, unblinking, like a dare. Topper's mind raced with an excuse, a response, another way to change the topic of conversation when his thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice.

"Topper?"

The group turned as you walked through the door, cradling your daughter in one arm and holding your son by the other hand.

Rafe's head snapped to you, drinking in the sight of you while desperately trying to piece together what was in front of him, head turning from you to Topper and back again like he was watching a tennis match only he could see.

"Guys, I am so sorry to interrupt, I know it's boys' night" you said.

Topper brushed past Rafe and walked hastily over to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Everything okay?" he asked quietly.

You continued talking to Topper, eyes trained on his face, a soft smile on your lips that Rafe swore at one time was reserved only for him. He tried to hear what you were saying but the blood in his head was rushing so loudly, it made it sound like everything around him was underwater. All he could do was stare, mouth agape, at the child in your arms and the other by your side. They looked so much like you. They had your eyes and your freckles, even the outline of your nose; it made his heart physically ache. But they also looked like Topper, especially your son who Topper had bent over to pick up and who was hugging him around his neck. The world started to spin as Rafe tugged at his collar, trying to get air in his lungs as he took in the future he would never have with you. He was desperately searching for some sort of explanation, for something that wasn't exactly what was right in front of his eyes.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he said finally, louder than he had intended to as everyone turned to look at him.

You could hear a pin drop.

He wanted to be angry, he was angry. He thought about all the times Topper had ogled you, even when you were his. He wanted to punch Thornton so hard he would never wake up, his fists clenching in response. But more than anger, he felt a deep deep sadness and remorse that sat like an anvil on his chest. His breathing became erratic and before he could control his emotions he started to cry. To cry. He didn't even have the wherewithal to feel embarrassed, too overwhelmed by the picture of the family in front of him, the family that should have been his.

He could feel himself coming undone like buttons flying off a too-tight jacket one at a time. Plink-plink-plink.

You looked at him strangely, your movements, your eyes, your voice devoid of emotion, like you had just noticed he was standing there. "Rafe, are you okay?" you asked.

Rafe's own anguished cries woke him up as his eyes shot open. He was breathing heavily and sweat coated his skin. He sat up, physically clawing at the pain and heaviness in his chest as he looked around and tried to remember where he was. A clock blinked on the bedside table: 4:37 AM. His mind frantically tried to figure out his surroundings. He was in bed. He was in bed in a hotel room, in New York City. He was in bed...

It was a fucking dream?

It felt so real he could feel the tears burning behind his eyes and despite the minutes that passed, he couldn't slow down his racing heart, gasping for breath as he untangled from the sheets and slid onto the floor, head in his hands. Memories that he had tamped so far down into his conscious that he was surprised they were still accessible flew to the surface...

3 Years Ago

You were crying.

You were crying so hard that Rafe didn't know what to do. Every fiber of his being ached to pull the words he had just said back into his mouth, to swallow them whole, to undo the last 20 minutes, to pull you into his arms, but he couldn't. I can't be with you anymore he lied. I don't love you he lied. We don't want the same things he lied and he lied and he lied.

You were so confused, so upset. You begged him, you pleaded with him to give you another chance, thinking you had done something wrong. You promised you would change, promised you would be better and that was when he had finally had enough, unable to take it anymore. He stood up, leaving you alone on your couch and walked out your front door without any further explanation.

He barely made it out of your driveway before his tears caught up with him and he slammed his fist repeatedly on the steering wheel in frustration. He didn't make it another 10 minutes before he had to pull over and get physically sick on the side of the road at the thought of what he had just done.

She deserves better he told himself then. She deserves better he told himself every moment since then.

Present

Rafe had spent every single day trying to forget you as he moved out of North Carolina, resigning himself to a life spent travelling from hotel to hotel, city to city, responsible for the expansion of Cameron Development, which was booming. He worked 75-hour weeks, throwing himself into work as a way to forget. To forget the feeling of your fingers tangled in his hair, shaving it in a desperate attempt to help. To forget the taste of your lips on his, your soft skin under his touch, the way you looked at him and only him, like he was your whole world. The way you loved his sisters, the ring he had bought for you, the dreams you had shared of a family, of a life together, of the way you had loved him when he was unlovable.

He sat on the floor for hours, letting himself feel the things he hadn't let himself even think about in three years through sobbed breaths, living, reliving and killing his own dreams.

Finally, as the sun rose, he grabbed his phone and called Kelce.

"Rafe Cameron? To what do I owe the pleasure, my man, how's it going?"

"Hey Kelc" Rafe said, clearing his throat, his voice still thick with emotion that he was trying to hide. "I uh I'm thinking about coming back into town. Look, this is random, but, Y/N, is she with anybody?"

There was a long pause. Rafe held his breath.

"Rafe, I don't think it's my place to say anything. If you want to talk to her, you can come see her for yourself. But.... I can't promise she'll even speak to you... after everything. She's working at the law firm on Calhoun Street."

Rafe said goodbye, hung up and began packing.

He spent the entire flight and the 40-minute drive from the airport in a daze, trying to think about what to say, what he could possibly say to you. As his truck wound down the familiar roads of Kildare Island, he was overwhelmed with memories, the restaurant he had taken you to for your first date, your favorite place to get ice cream, the beach where you'd kissed him for the first time. He shook his head, trying to right his mind as he pulled onto Calhoun Street, realizing he hadn't made any progress in what he wanted to say. He hadn't slept, hadn't eaten; he caught a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror, taking in his bloodshot eyes and wrinkled shirt. He looked like shit, but he had already wasted years getting here, years making his own life into a disaster, he wasn't going to wait any longer.

He stepped out of the car and began walking towards the law offices when he heard the unforgettable, unmistakable sound of your laugh that pierced his heart and nearly brought him to his knees. He turned to see you walking up the sidewalk with a young boy in your arms, deeply focused on what he was saying as he babbled and played with a loose strand of your hair.

His heart plummeted into his stomach. I'm too late he thought.

He was standing there, unmoving, eyes transfixed on you.

As you got closer, his figure caught your attention and unlike in his dream, you noticed him immediately. You stopped in your tracks, like you had walked into a brick wall, your eyes widening in recognition.

Rafe Cameron.

Rafe Cameron was here. Rafe Cameron was on Kildare Island and he was standing in front of you, staring at you. Your body shut down like it was in self-preservation mode at the memory of what he had done, and the words he had said the last time you'd seen him. You couldn't move, you couldn't speak, you didn't know what to do. He had taken your whole heart with him when he left and even though 3 years had gone by, even though you had desperately tried to move on, even though you had made significant progress, seeing him made you feel like you were right back on that day, like a vase he had knocked over, shattering into a thousand pieces that would never be fully right again no matter how many times you tried to reconfigure it.

Rafe wiped his hand over his mouth and walked over to you as your heart pounded relentlessly in your chest.

"Hey, h-how are you doing?" he asked.

How am I doing?! You destroyed my life, broke my heart and now you're back 3 years later and want to know 'how I'm doing?' You thought bitterly. You swallowed your feelings, unwilling to let him see how much he still affected you.

He looked nervous, jittery, anxious, his eyes flickering between your face and the boy in your arms and your heart squeezed for a moment at the idea that he might be using again. That, at least, would be a plausible explanation for this ridiculous situation.

"I-I'm okay" you said. The boy in your arms had started to wiggle and you set him down. "Hey, sweetie, why don't you run inside, okay? I'll be right there." The little boy eyed Rafe skeptically before making his way inside.

Rafe cleared his throat as his eyes followed him. "He's-he's sweet" he managed to eke out.

You smiled, looking after the boy affectionately, "He's a handful, but I do what I can to help Rachel out."

Rafe's eyes shot back to you, pointing between you and the door the boy had just gone through, desperately trying to put the pieces together, praying he had heard you right but forbidding himself to get his hopes up.

"Wait, he's not - you're not?" he said, gesturing.

"What? No!" you said, fighting back the tone of offense. Like Rafe had any right to know anyway.

Suddenly, Rafe grabbed your left hand, eyes shooting to your ring finger, which sat bare.

Your hand tingled at the feeling of his warm touch, but you managed to gather yourself quickly, pulling your hand back.

Rafe looked confused, eyes shifting to yours and then away quickly. "I-I thought...Topper...I didn't know...."

"We...dated...." you replied, clocking the tick in Rafe's clenched jaw in response. "It didn't work out."

He wasn't you you thought. Nobody is you and that's the problem.

Rafe turned his back to you and began to walk away, running his hand through his short hair before turning back around, chewing on his thumbnail, startling you with the look in his eyes that were pained, anguished with something else running deep below the surface that you didn't want to linger on.

"Go out with me tonight" he said after a moment.

"What?!" you spat, exasperated.

WHAT!!!!!!!!!! your mind screamed.

"Please, just give me a chance to explain."

"Rafe, I don't know what you could possibly have to say at this point" you replied quickly. You could feel your emotions bubbling up. You needed to get far, far away from him as you felt your resolve begin to crumble. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"Please Y/N, I'm begging you. Please. One night. No expectations at all. You can walk away after that, I will completely understand."

Silence.

He took a step closer to you, his voice low as he whispered, "I know I have no right to ask you for anything, but please just give me this."

No, no, no, no, no, no your mind echoed on repeat.

"Okay" you whispered back.

Rafe entered the side door of Tanneyhill quietly, pleasantly surprised that his key still worked. There weren't any cars in the driveway, he hadn't told anyone he was coming home, but he didn't want to take any chances.

He wandered the hallways quietly, equal parts surprised and unsurprised that little-to-nothing had changed in his long absence as he made his way to father's office.

For so long he had cowered in fear of this room, this man, of the threat that hung over him like a guillotine. Not anymore. Let Ward do his worst. He wasn't a little boy anymore. If Ward swung, he would swing right back. He itched to, in fact, as he thought about the conversation three years ago in this very place that had stolen everything from him. He quickly pulled open the drawers of the large mahogany desk, rummaging through the contents before he found what he was looking for.

To Ward's credit, the tape recorder was covered in dust and looked unused and unplayed, buried at the back of the drawer. Rafe set it down on top of the desk and glared at it, reliving momentarily the mistake he had made years ago, deep in the midst of his drug addiction in an effort to save his father, to save his family. He reached for the lamp on the desktop and brought it forcefully down on top of the tape recorder, sending bits of plastic pieces flying onto the floor and across the desk as he nearly ripped the lamp out of the wall, pounding it over and over and over again until all that was left were indistinguishable shredded pieces of plastic and the dented mahogany. Rafe was breathing heavily, his breaths coming in and out shakily as he felt tears burning in his throat, promising himself that he would become more than his mistakes.

After a long shower and a longer nap, Rafe's head was more clear than it had been in weeks in terms of his priorities. Nothing mattered more than you, nothing had ever mattered more than you and he was going to do everything he could to make you see that.

As he navigated to your house to pick you up, he couldn't help but think of the date that he never should have cancelled and how different his life would have been if he had chosen to go out with you that night instead.

You looked achingly, stunningly beautiful in an open-backed dress that teased your tan skin. For years, he hadn't let himself think about how beautiful you were and now that you were in his front seat, riding shotgun where you belonged, he could barely keep his eyes on the road. The drive was silent but for the quiet scratch of the radio. The entire way he stole sidelong glances at you that he hoped went unnoticed, but brought a blush to your cheeks all the same as you desperately tried to keep your own eyes facing forward. His gaze felt like the sun's rays on a hot summer day, as it traced your long eyelashes, your lips, your everything.

You didn't let yourself think too long about the way your body felt under the warmth of his blue eyes.

He didn't let himself think too long about the fact that you had dressed up for him.

Dinner was nice... but awkward. Rafe hated himself for that. He hated the awkwardness and the tension that simmered beneath the surface of every conversation. Things between you two had never been awkward, ever. You were like his second half. You used to be so at ease with each other, life with you was so effortless. It was evident that your guard was still up, so he kept the conversation light, asking about work, your family, your friends, desperate to learn everything new about you that he had missed, like a little kid trying to put together the last pieces of their favorite puzzle.

He managed to make you laugh. Twice. It made him feel like the king of the universe and he tried desperately to keep that smile on your face for the rest of the night; something that used to be second nature to him, now a battle every step of the way.

After dinner, you both stepped outside into the night and a cool breeze tickled your skin, making you shiver. Rafe reached out a hand instinctively to warm you, but pulled back at the last minute, balling his hands into fists at his side.

"Take a walk with me?" he asked, knowing he was on borrowed time at this point, as the night was coming to an end.

You took a deep breath and looked around, trying to think of an excuse, any excuse not to, but you couldn't deny that some part of you was enjoying this; the sweet pain and sweet pleasure of having Rafe back, if only for a moment, like holding a firefly in your hand, brief, fleeting. You knew how this was going to end: you, alone again, back to square one, picking the pieces of your heart up off the ground. But, you wanted to pretend, you wanted to keep living in this make-believe world where the past 3 years hadn't happened for a little while longer.

You looked at him and the way his midnight blue eyes traced your face and you cursed yourself for the unwarranted tenderness you had towards him, would always have towards him, despite everything. You nodded, and followed him to the nearby pier.

You walked side by side for awhile, the only people on the otherwise abandoned walkway; your only company the sound of the waves that lapped against the boats in the water and against the dock. What once would have been a comfortable silence between you felt thick and heavy, weighed down with 3 years' worth of unspoken words and two broken hearts. You bit your lip softly to keep from crying as your emotions caught up with you and your mind whirled. Rafe stopped walking beside you and turned to face you.

You realized looking at him now that ever since he'd come back, he'd looked uncharacteristically nervous and unsteady. The Rafe you knew, or thought you knew, was always confident, self-assured, cocky even. Now Rafe's unease matched your own, putting you further on edge.

"T-thanks for agreeing to this tonight. I don't even know where to begin to explain myself" he said, looking around, avoiding your eye contact.

"Look, I'm a grown man, I've made my own decisions and I know I have to live with that but... fuck... FUCK." He began to unravel quickly as his breaths came out heavy and he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and began to pace.

"Rafe" you said, reaching for him before you knew what you were doing, the instinct to comfort him wound so tightly in your DNA.

"I was gonna ask you to marry me" he said, pulling his hands away from his face to find yours.

Your head spun in confusion and you felt your dinner lurch in your stomach.

"What?" you whispered, your voice wavering.

"My dad knew it. He... threatened me.... he told me you deserved better and the more I thought about it the more I realized he was was fucking right. You are such a good person. Honestly? You're the best person that I know. You had no business being with me. I was living on borrowed time with you as it was and-and I wasn't going to resign you to a life like that, with me. You deserve so much more than to settle for second best, for someone with so much bullshit in his past. A recovering drug addict? A murderer?" he said as he shook his head strongly and tears spilled from his eyes, "I wasn't going to do that to you."

"Rafe you were 19, you were high, you weren't in your right mind. It was a mistake, a horrible mistake, but you have to forgive yourself, you can't let that hang over you anymore."

Your heart and your mind were racing with each other to try to sort out everything he had just said to you. He wanted to marry you? What he was saying now was in such stark contrast to everything he had said then... that he didn't love you... that you wanted different things.... Your own tears bubbled over at the memory and you wiped at them furiously, even though they wouldn't stop.

Rafe hated to see you cry. He hated himself more for making you cry, again.

"And here I am making a fucking mess of it all anyway, just like he said I would" he said as he looked at you. "I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry, baby" he said, stepping forward like he wanted to comfort you as he watched you begin to cry in earnest, his term of endearment tearing open your wounded heart. He pulled himself back, both of you stuck in limbo, your emotions spilling out in front of you, unsure of how to act on them.

Rafe continued to ramble, like his explanations could dry your tears, "I tried so hard to tell myself I was doing the right thing, that you'd be happier without me. Shit, maybe you are!--" he said, throwing his hands up in frustration.

I'm not you thought, I am so desperately not.

"--But I had to come back here and tell you that I never stopped loving you. Not for one minute. I didn't mean anything I said back then. I missed you with every part of me. I-I haven't been with anyone else. I couldn't. They weren't you. It felt awful.... You're it for me. You always have been, you always were" he choked on his last words as he rubbed the back of his hands over his eyes in an attempt to stop his own tears now as he whispered in a grovelled voice, "You're my girl. I wanted... want..." he stumbled over his words, his breathing erratic, "Want you to be my wife. I want the future we always talked about babygirl, you, me, our family..."

You tried and failed to hold back a sob as you covered your face and turned away from him, your stomach in knots. You were having trouble breathing and you couldn't compose yourself under his gaze, not when he was saying things like that.

He was quiet for a moment.

"Fuck" he said quietly. "This was so selfish. I shouldn't have said anything. I-I just had this dream about you..." you turned around to face him as he continued, "...you had moved on, and I just thought if I got to you before it was too late maybe by some miracle, by some gift of God you would give me a second chance. But, I think I know that's too far gone now. You've built an amazing life for yourself, sweet girl, you don't need me."

He looked earnestly, deeply at you, his own face scrunched as the tears rolled down his face. "But God I am so sorry baby, I am so so sorry for what I did" he said, he flexed his fingers desperately wanting to reach for you again, to comfort you.

If anyone asked you later how or why the next few minutes unraveled the way they did, you wouldn't have had an answer for them. Sometimes, there is no answer for the way two hearts, two souls respond to each other. There wasn't a plausible way for you to make a decision about anything, your head was swimming with your tears and as you struggled to catch you breath, you met Rafe's eyes with your own. And like so many of the nights you had spent missing him, the only thing you wanted, the only thing you craved was to feel his arms around you, for him to tell you that everything was going to be okay, that he was sorry, that he didn't mean it, that he wanted you back.

So, you let yourself have it.

You stepped forward and you buried your head into his chest, arms curling around him, grabbing the back of his suit jacket like a lifeline.

He was frozen to the spot and you squeezed your eyes shut as your whole body shook with your cries before he tentatively, gently put his arms around you. When you didn't flinch or step away, he pulled you in deeper, nuzzling into your neck. "M'sorry, I'm so sorry" he whispered over and over and over again as he rocked you gently back and forth.

Eventually, you put your arms around his neck and he could feel your hot breath and your warm tears against him. He could have fallen to his knees. As it was, he was having a hard time keeping himself steady at the feeling of you pressed against him, trying to figure out what it all meant. For now, he wasn't going to question it, he was going to take it one step at a time.

EPILOGUE - 2 Years Later

Rafe was at the sink washing dishes when he heard you padding up behind him in your bare feet. When he turned to look at you, his soul melted.

You were cradling your son in your arms who was just waking up from a nap. His blue eyes were just like his dads as they fluttered open, his head resting on your shoulder as he clung to you. You brushed his bright blonde hair out of his eyes and the ring on your finger that had sat for so long in Rafe's closet caught the sunlight. It looked perfect on you, just like he knew it would.

You were smiling down at your son before you looked up at Rafe and he smiled back at you, shaking his head, thinking how lucky he was to finally, finally be living his dream. You smiled at him, that smile that was his and his alone that felt like the first touch of the sun on a spring day as he reached down to kiss you softly, sweetly. "I love you, Mama" he said as he wrapped one hand around your waist and the other rested against your growing belly.

taglist: @ietss, @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @sweetestdesire, @softcoremaybank, @diary-of-jj, @m-indkiller, @underscorebabbabybabay

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cozage · 1 year

Text

Made for Two

A/N: The final (very long!) part of this fantastic saga.

Characters: gn reader x Sanji

Cw: none that I can think of :)

Total word count: 7.5k

Part One | Masterlist

Dessert for Two

Life fell into a strange pattern for the next few days. In the morning, you awoke to Sanji getting up, and you would join him while he cooked breakfast. You lounged on the deck with him and Nami in between meals, and always went to the kitchen whenever he went to cook for someone. You occasionally caught a glimpse of Zoro, but he never spoke to you. He didn’t even look your way most days.

You began eating meals with the crew again. You ran around the ship with Luffy, visited Franky and Usopp in their workshops, and swung by the library to grab a new book almost every day. The ship slowly became your home again. The only place you couldn’t bring yourself to go to was the crow’s nest.

At night, you curled into Sanji and fell asleep in his arms. It was a good healing routine. You felt better overall, more like yourself than you had in a long time. But your heart still had a dull ache whenever you looked to the crows nest or caught a glimpse of moss green.

“Nami told me we’re going to land on a Summer Island tomorrow morning,” Sanji said one night. He laid next to you in bed, rubbing his hand up and down your back as you started to drift away into your dreams.

“Really?” you hummed into his chest. It had been hot the past few days, and there had been no islands to land on. It had made for a miserable time at sea, but it seemed there was hope at the end of the tunnel.

“That’s what she said.”

“She better be right,” you mumbled, starting to doze off. “Does that mean a barbeque tomorrow?”

You weren’t sure of his answer. You were asleep before he got the chance to respond.

You woke up early, and the first thing you noticed was the lack of gentle rocking that you were used to. The ship didn’t seem to be moving.

“I think we’re anchored,” Sanji said.

“Already?” You sat up quickly, desperately wanting to be on land again.

You rolled over him and out of bed, taking all the covers with you to force the blonde to get up.

“Hey, bring those back!” He jumped out of bed and chased you around the small room. There weren’t many places to run though, and you squealed with delight as he cornered you and tickled your sides relentlessly.

“I give up!” you giggled, trying to push him away from you. His skin was warm against your touch. You lightened your shoves when you realized you were touching his bare chest, allowing your fingers to linger on him a bit longer than you knew they should.

Your eyes trail down to his chest, then further down to his abs. You resisted the urge to have your fingers follow your gaze, which dipped further down to his belly button, and then to the lining of his shorts, where you could see the top of his happy trail begin.

You’ve been staring at his sculpted body for too long, and both of you know it. Sanji is standing motionless in front of you, but you can feel his eyes watching you. You quickly pull your hand from him and push your thoughts away, a deep blush entering into your cheeks.

You run your hand through your hair and give a slight cough, mortified by your actions. “Sorry,” you mumble, turning away.

“For what?” Sanji asks. You silently thank him for trying to preserve your dignity, but you can hear the fluster in his voice.

“Shall we go see if we’re really at an island?” You ask, trying to change the subject. You grab a tank top and shorts, your bathing suit, and a sun hat before looking back to Sanji. His cheeks are still red from the encounter, which brings a new level of embarrassment to you, but he nods in agreement like nothing happened.

“Let me go change, and then we can go up.”

When you’re alone, it hits you just how perverse your thoughts were a moment ago. You were being more perverted than Sanji, and you had ended up making him nervous. You groan, unsure if you’ll ever recover from this awkwardness. If Nami ever found out that you were the one making the first move on Sanji - you didn’t even want to think about her reaction.

You quickly got dressed, throwing your bathing suit on under your tanktop and shorts, and running a comb through your hair before putting your sun hat atop your head. You opened the door just as Sanji knocked.

His eyes scanned your body, and you felt a tinge of embarrassment and excitement swirl in your abdomen.

“Summer islands suit you,” he grinned, offering out his arm for you to hold.

You roll your eyes and walk past him, grabbing his arm and dragging him along with you out to the deck.

Sanji had been right. You all were anchored, and there was land off the starboard side of the ship. A beautiful lush island sat out before you, with the perfect beach setting.

“San-jiiii!” you squealed, anticipation coursing through your veins as you ran over to the railing to get the full view.

You didn’t see any signs of civilization. It seemed it was a deserted island, just like you and Sanji had talked about.

“What do you need help with?” you asked, bouncing with excitement. You wanted to get to the island as quickly as possible, but you knew Sanji would have to carry a lot of things to prepare food while you were there.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he cooed, patting your head gently. “Just sit there and look cute. I’ll get Luffy and Franky to help me.”

Franky took you, Chopper, Robin, and Nami to shore in the Mini Merry, along with some beach chairs and other little items for you all to play with. You quickly stripped down to your bathing suit and laid out on the sand with the girls and Chopper.

You could hear Usopp and Franky setting up with Sanji, and Luffy screams echoed about some cool beetle he had found off in the jungle.

After a few minutes of laying in the sun, you sat up and looked around the island, trying to find something to help with. You were bored with lying around already. There was so much to do on the island, it felt wasteful just sitting around in the sun.

“Do you guys want to go look for food? I want to do something.”

“I’ll go!” Chopper shouted, sitting up quickly.

“I think I’ll join you too,” Robin nodded. “Sounds like fun.”

Nami was the only one who had a sour expression on her face. “I’ll pass. I’m perfectly happy here.”

The three of you left Nami behind, each grabbing your own basket to collect items on your journey.

“I’m glad you’re coming with us today!” Chopper said, walking beside you happily. “Normally you go off with Zoro!”

Robin glanced over at you, but you just hummed in response to Chopper’s words. “I think we’ll find a lot of fruit,” you say, changing the subject. “You’ll be our good luck charm, Chops.”

“Oh shut up,” Chopper said, his voice rising from embarrassment. “You saying nice things doesn’t mean anything to me.”

You can see that his expression directly discrediting his statement, causing you and Robin to laugh at his silliness.

Chopper did seem to be your good luck charm, because you all filled your baskets to the brim with coconuts, mangos, bananas, and other tropical fruit in no time. You returned to the beach, where Sanji was working on getting the grill started.

Sanji beamed when he saw you emerge from the jungle. “Perfect timing,” he said, looking at your full baskets.

You set your baskets down next to the four that were already next to the grill and wiped the sweat from your brow. “Looks like someone beat us back.”

“Yeah,” Sanji said, lighting a cigarette. “Luffy and Mosshead each collected two baskets already, and they went back to look for more. We’ll need it with Luffy’s appetite.”

You nodded, that familiar dull ache reappearing in your chest at the mention of Zoro. “Do you want us to go get more too?”

Sanji shook his head. “We should be fine, I think. Unless…” his eyes slid over to the bundle of fishing rods next to the beach. Your eyes followed his, finding the rods at the edge of the surf.

“Oh! Yes!” You bounded over to the fishing rods. “Chopper! Robin! Do you want to join?”

They both laughed and walked over to you, each of you grabbing a rod and casting it out to sea. You sat patiently, talking with your friends as you waited for a tug on the rod.

It wasn’t long before you saw the line tighten. You jumped up and started reeling, making sure not to go too fast so the line wouldn’t break. You could tell by the way the pole bent that the fish was a decent size, and you took your time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to yank it in.

When you found the moment, you pulled hard, bringing it onto the sand. The fish was about the size of Chopper, and the reindeer screamed in terror as the fish flopped on the shore.

“Sanji! Luffy! Usopp!” You hollered, keeping the line taut so the fish wouldn't flop back into the sea. “Someone help!”

Usopp appeared next to you, shooting an exploding sleep star at the fish to knock it unconscious. The two of you pulled the fish up further on the beach, and you smiled triumphantly at it.

“You should get a picture standing next to it!” Chopper said enthusiastically. He was hiding behind Robin, watching the fish closely with caution.

“Oh, yes!” you said, running to the Merry. “I’ll be right back!”

You hopped on the Mini Merry and steered towards the Sunny, rushing to get the camera from your room. You had to commemorate such a tremendous catch.

You climbed up onto the deck and dashed to your room, hoping to make the trip a quick one. But you froze when you opened your door and saw moss green hair bent down, the swordsman looking under the bed. Your room had been the one place you had been safe from him this whole time, and now he was here.

Your breath caught in your throat as he turned around to face you. Based on his expression, he wasn’t expecting you to be here either. His eyes were wide, like a deer in the headlights. Though you imagined your face was probably a similar look.

“I was looking for my medicine ball,” he said, quickly jumping to his feet. He was nervous and awkward standing in front of you, which was new for him. “Sorry. I didn’t think you’d be on the ship.”

You stood in front of him for a few moments, afraid of what else he might say to you. But his demeanor was different now than in the aquarium a few days ago.

“It’s in the closet,” you whispered, pointing at the wardrobe on the far side of the room.

“Thanks.” You could hear the kindness in his voice again, and your heart ached. Neither of you moved for the objects you came into the room for, and you thought that you both might be frozen here forever, staring at each other for the rest of eternity.

But Chopper’s scream pierces the air, and a chorus of laughter follows closely behind it. Something about your crew’s voices lets your body release from its position, remembering what you came here for. You walk over to your bedside table and open the drawer, grabbing the camera.

“Did you need help finding it?” You asked Zoro, who’s still standing by your bed.

You’re close to him, closer than you have been in several days. When your eyes meet his, he quickly looks at the ground to avoid your gaze. He stepped away from you, tripping over a set of Sanji’s shoes before he quickly regained his balance, spewing out a string of curses under his breath. You can see anger enter his eyes, and your whole body tenses at the shift in his mood.

“Stupid cook,” he muttered. He kicked the shoes away and stormed out of the room without another look.

You stand there for a moment, unsure how to proceed. The whole interaction with Zoro was strange, and he left without getting what he came for. You’re about to head for the closet to retrieve it yourself when you hear Sanji’s quickened footsteps on the deck. The cook’s frame appears in the doorway, his eyebrows knitted together in concern.

“You okay?” He asked, looking around the room.

“Yeah,” you nod, shaking off the encounter with Zoro. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

His face softens at that, and you both walk out of your room together, abandoning your thoughts of the swordsman. When you made it to the edge of the ship, Sanji picked you up bridal style and hopped over the edge of the ship onto the Merry. You yelped in surprise as the two of you fell over the edge, but your landing was light and comforting.

Sanji drove you back to the island, and took your picture with your impressive catch before dragging the fish over to the grill to begin preparing it.

For lunch, Sanji served up a delicious grilled fruit platter with ceviche, and you thought you could die happy after eating such an exquisite meal.

“Sanji,” you whine, popping another piece of pineapple in your mouth. “I will never get tired of your cooking.”

“You can have it any time you want,” he swoons back. “I’ll cook for you any time, anywhere.”

“How romantic,” Robin comments, and your cheeks flush from her words.

“It’s the same for you, Robin-chan,” Sanji says, but his voice doesn’t hold as much emotion speaking to her.

After lunch, Sanji takes everyones plates to begin cleaning up, and you lay out in the sun to enjoy its warmth.

Only a few minutes pass by when your sunshine is interrupted by a shadow overcast on you, and you open your eyes to find Sanji towering about you. He’s holding swim goggles and snorkels, grinning widely at you.

“Care to join me for a swim?”

You jump up, grabbing a set from him and putting the goggles on your face.

“How do I look?” you giggle, your voice sounding nasally from the plastic around your face.

Sanji beams back at you. “I’m impressed. You look lovely even in swim goggles.”

He scoops you up and carries you into the surf, and you squeal when the icy water makes contact with your skin.

“Let me go!” you cried, squirming out of his grip. “I just need to get it over with.”

He releases you, and the moment your feet find sand, your push off, diving into the cold sea. You can feel adrenaline coursing through your veins, the coldness of the water shocking your nervous system. The overloading of your senses makes you gasp, and you breath in the salty water.

You resurface, coughing and sputtering, trying to bring oxygen back into your lungs. Sanji starts to rush towards you, but you wave him off.

“I’m fine,” you cough. “Where’s the reef?”

“Nami said it should be off to the right,” Sanji said, reaching you. He rested his hand against your bare back, and you felt a jolt of electricity course through you where he made contact. His eyes were full of concern as he watched you, and you smiled meekly at him. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked.

“Yes, Sanji dear.” You take a step away from him, trying to remove the electric current he’s sending through your body. “Let’s go.”

The two of you swam away from shore, finding the coral reef after a few minutes of searching. It was only about ten feet to the bottom, but you had to tread the water to look around.

You dove down to get closer to the views, swimming amongst the fish. Sanji raked his fingers along the sand and held up a shell to show you. You took it from him and turned it over in your hands; a beautiful pink conch, about as big as your thumb. You pushed off the soft sand and shot back up to the surface, gasping for air.

“I love this!” you said when Sanji resurfaced next to you.

“I can hold onto it until we get back, if you want. Then it’s all yours.”

You nod and hand the shell back to him, and he slips it into his pocket and rezips the pouch so it won't fall out.

“I saw some oysters at the bottom,” you comment. “Should we get some and take them back to the beach?”

His eyes light up at your offer, and you both dive down to collect a variety of shellfish from the bottom of the sea. When you finally resurface again, you have two handfuls of oysters, mussels, and clams, and you hand them off to the cook.

“My pockets are pretty full now,” he said. “We should head back.”

You’re grateful for his suggestion, because your body is exhausted from all of the swimming and the prolonged times holding your breath. You nod in agreement, too tired to form words. It’s not far back to shore, but you’ll need all of your energy to get there.

“Do you want me to carry you back?”

“No, no,” you breathed heavily. You were tired, but you got yourself into this activity, and you didn’t want to burden him with swimming for two. “I can do it.”

“Let me know if you change your mind.” Sanji looked skeptical, but he didn’t press you further.

You started swimming, Sanji staying close beside you while you swam. You could feel your breathing getting heavier, your strokes getting sloppier. You were about to resort to floating on your back when your toes scraped the sand. Relief washed over you, and your muscles gave up.

“Sanji,” you whimpered. You didn’t have to say any more. He appeared in front of you, letting you collapse onto his back. His arms wrapped around your legs, and he lifted you up.

“You did good,” Sanji said to you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him give you a piggyback ride to shore. You relaxed into his back, letting your tired body finally take a rest.

As you all emerged from the surf, your eyes scanned the shore and found moss green. Zoro was sitting next to Nami, watching the shoreline. You could see both their mouths moving, but their words were too soft to reach your ears. Zoro didn’t look angry, which was surprising to you. He had a perplexed expression though, like he was deep in thought.

His eyes met yours, and both of you quickly glanced away, embarrassed to be caught by the other. You kept your eyes closed for the rest of the journey, afraid of seeing what his reaction was when he saw you and Sanji.

Sanji set you down on your beach towel, and you wrapped it around you to dry off. He stood over you, looking down to make sure you were okay. When your breathing finally started to even out, he fished out the conch shell he had in his pocket. He was about to hand it off to you when he paused.

“Do you mind if I hang onto this for a bit? I want to do something to it.”

You smile up at him and nod. His eyes brightened, and he ran off without another word, leaving you alone on the beach. But strangely, you didn’t mind being alone. It was a peaceful afternoon, and you enjoyed the silence in the moment . Your body still felt heavy, so you laid down and watched the clouds pass through the sky, exhausted from the adventure-filled day you had.

You’re not sure when you dozed off, but when your eyes reopened, Sanji was sitting near you, leaning back against a palm tree. He was also sleeping, a tray of seafood delicacies laid out in between you two.

You sat up, which was enough of a disturbance to call Sanji’s eyes to open. He frantically looked around for the tray he had prepared, and relaxed when he found it still completely full.

“Good,” he mumbled. “I was worried that Luffy would eat this while I slept.”

You laughed, eyeing the tray. “It looks amazing. You prepared it perfectly, as always.”

He blushed at your compliment, and pushed the tray towards you slightly. “Go on, try them.”

You picked up an oyster of yourself and passed another to the cook. “Together?” you asked.

You held it up to your mouth, the smell of seawater instantly invading your senses. Your tongue swirled around the oyster shell, and you swallowed the meat in one smooth movement. It was so fresh that it tasted like a kiss directly from the ocean itself. A soft moan involuntarily escaped your lips from how much you enjoyed it.

You set the shell down, looking at Sanji to see how he liked his. But his oyster still remained in his hand. His eyes were on you, and his mouth was slightly agape from watching. His entire face was red, and you thought you could see steam coming off him.

“Are you going to try yours?” you asked, looking at him curiously.

He nodded, mouth still open, and his eyes looked at his own oyster now. You watched as his tongue flicked around the shell, feeling heat flush into your cheeks. His lips wrapped around the meat, sucking it into his mouth in one smooth movement. He bit at the string that anchored the meal into the shell, and pulled the shell away from his face with a satisfied smile.

You now understood why he was staring at you earlier. The movements his mouth had made while eating had been extremely provocative. You could feel desire swirling in your chest while you watched his show, and you had to resist the urge to shove another one towards him.

“Can I have some?” Luffy’s head appeared next to you, causing you to yelp out in surprise.

“Buzz off!” Sanji screamed at his captain, and you smiled. But you were thankful for Luffy’s sudden presence, lightening the tense mood that had just been between you and Sanji.

“Here Luffy.” You handed a few clams to him. “Have a few.”

Luffy threw them into his mouth as if they were popcorn, and Sanji screamed in horror.

“What is wrong with you!?!” Sanji bellowed, causing you to erupt in laughter.

Luffy’s commotion caused a scene, and soon all of the Strawhats had gathered around the seafood tray. You all grazed on the collection you had gathered and made small talk, but anytime your eyes met Sanji’s, they quickly flitted away. You couldn’t stop thinking about his lips. You were curious if they tasted just as salty as the sea.

“Hey you guys?” Franky’s eyes were watching the sea. “Should we be super worried about those ships?”

Your eyes moved to where Franky was looking, and you saw four navy ships approaching. Your eyes widened as you heard a few other Strawhats scream in terror.

“Let’s move!” Luffy yelled, and everyone sprang into action.

Sanji picked you, Nami, and Chopper up, and airwalked you over to the ship. He ran off without another word, but you knew why he had picked you three.

“Nami, tell us what to do.” You looked towards the navigator, awaiting her instructions.

“Chopper, raise the anchor and ready the coup-de-burst. Y/N, change the sails by thirty degrees, but-”

“Don’t lower them yet,” you finished, running for the pulley system at the mast.

Chopper ran below deck to do his work, and you moved the sails to get the best possible wind speed when the crew was ready. The Navy ships had spotted you, and you could see them changing their course slightly to prepare for your all's departure.

You ran downstairs to the loading dock and began to haul up all of the equipment from the beach. The Mini Merry had already gotten the smaller things off, but you could see the crew on their second trip back with more equipment. It would have to make one more trip, there were still a few of Sanji’s things on the beach. It would be a close encounter with the Navy, but you all would be able to escape.

“Okay, let’s go!” Franky said, closing the channel’s door.

“Wait!” you cried. “The grill’s still on the island!”

“It’s not a big deal, we can get another one!” Franky yelled back, jumping off the Mini Merry and unloading it quickly.

“But-”

“It’s okay,” Sanji said, suddenly beside you. He wrapped his arm around you, holding you tight. You could feel his pain in his grip, saddened by the things he had to leave behind.

“No it is not!” you yelled, breaking away from him. You refused to give up that easily. Your hand slammed on the button to reopen the door. “We’re not leaving your stuff behind!”

Sanji gave a pained smile. “It's really not a-”

“Dammit curly, come on.” Zoro hopped in the boat. “It’s not worth it to argue. We’re just wasting time.”

Everyone froze for a moment. You hadn’t realized Zoro was in the room. Sanji looked at you, and it was clear he had also missed the swordsman's presence. But that didn’t matter now. If Zoro was willing to help, you didn’t care.

“Go!” you shouted at Sanji, pointing to the island.

Sanji jumped in the boat at your command, and they took off towards the island. You watched the whole way, both of them sitting as still as statues. It was probably the first time you had seen them together without fighting.

That didn’t last long, though. They got on the beach and you could see them shouting at each other. You couldn’t hear their words, but it looked like they were fighting over how to pack the boat, or if it was worth it to grab the other things scattered across the beach.

You could hear the cannon fire now, and the splashes of cannonballs into the water that narrowly missed your ship. Luffy’s screams of rage echoed throughout the ship as he defended it, bouncing the projectiles off his rubber skin. You had to guess that Robin and Usopp were also up there, using their abilities to keep the Navy at bay.

When Zoro and Sanji were heading back from the island, Franky took off up the stairs. “Holler at me when they’re inside and the door is closed! Not a moment later!” You nodded, your hand hovering over the button.

Zoro and Sanji whipped the Merry back inside the ship and you slammed the button, closing the door behind them.

“Franky! All clear!” You screamed, looking for something to hang onto.

You heard Farnky’s voice from above deck “Coup-de…”

Sanji jumped out of the boat and pinned you against the wall, holding you steady with one arm and grabbing onto a rope above you with the other. You wrapped your arms around him, readying yourself.

“BURSSSTTT!”

You felt the weightlessness of being airborne for a few seconds, and you looked up to Sanji.

“Hanging in there alright?” He asked casually, a grin appearing on his face.

You’re not sure why, but you blushed deeply and buried your face in his chest to hide the fact. You could feel floating turn into falling, and your fingers dug into his back as you braced for impact against the sea.

The crash came, but Sanji held you close and kept his feet planted firmly. When it was all over, you released him from your iron grip, but he kept his arm wrapped around you still. You tried to step away, but you were met with a wooden wall behind you. You tried to side step around him, but his grip held you in place.

You peered up at him curiously, and you were met with his perfectly blue eyes, as clear as the sky. Sanji’s emotions have always been easy to read, but now you saw something mixed in his expression that you hadn’t seen in them before. Something had changed with him, though you weren’t sure what had happened or why it occurred. You couldn’t quite place it, but it made a knot form in your stomach when you looked at him.

“Hungry?” he whispered, his voice low and husky. You could feel something stirring in your chest, and you thought back to oysters you shared on the beach.

Your face reddened. “I’m good right now,” you squeaked. Your voice was at a higher pitch than usual, an obvious sign of your nervousness.

He smirked at you and nodded, finally releasing you from his grip. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. “Let me know when you are, okay?”

You stared at him, taking a step away from him and towards the stairs. “Sure,” you whispered. You backed away slowly, not wanting to take your eyes away from his. He held your gaze the entire time you watched him, taking a long inhale of his cigarette as he watched you go. You finally broke your eye contact, turning to run up the stairs.

You didn’t stop running until you had ended up in the library. Robin’s eyes flicked up when she saw you, and her piercing blue gaze reminded you of the man you left downstairs.

“Robin,” you breathed heavily, tired from running. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” she smirked from behind her book. “Would you like a book?”

“I can grab one, thanks,” you said, picking a random book off of the shelf and taking a seat.

You opened to the first page, trying to get your mind off of the incident with Sanji downstairs, but you couldn’t get into it. The words on the page were so superficial, but your skin still tingled from Sanji’s touch.

Weird moments like that had been happening more and more frequently between you and him. Times where you could feel his eyes lingering over your body, or moments where you all could focus on was the softness of his skin when it made contact with yours.

You were starting to fall in love with that stupid cook. You were certain of it. These feelings that stirred inside you felt familiar because they were. You had felt them about eight months ago, with Zoro. But this was different. Your love for Zoro had been passion based, always roused up in the heat of the moment.

But with Sanji, it was lighter. Like that feeling of weightlessness you had just experienced. It was soft and warm. It felt weird to think about Sanji in this new light, but you didn’t hate it.

Not that it mattered. It’s not like you could ever tell him about your newly discovered feelings anyway. The last thing you wanted was to scare him away. You would just have to be content with-

“Out.” Robin's voice came sharp, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“What?”

“You’ve been sitting there for over thirty minutes and you haven’t turned a page,” Robin said, her eyes peering at you from over her book. “Your thoughts are distracting me.”

“I’m reading!” You couldn’t even sound genuine in your defense.

“You picked up a Grand Line Encyclopedia.”

You looked down at the book to see she was right. Volume Five, the island archipelago of the Great Kodaks. A place you hadn’t been, and a place you probably would never go. You huffed in defeat, putting the book back where it belonged.

“Can I-”

Robin glared at you, cutting you off mid sentence. “Stop hiding.”

You left the library and walked out onto the deck, a pit starting to form in your stomach.

The sky was filled with color, the sun just starting to slip below the horizon now. You hadn’t realized it was so late in the day. You can feel a familiar sadness start to creep in, the absence of Zoro and the activities you used to do together. But the pain was not as earth shattering as it had been the last time it hit.

You stood at the ship wheel, watching the sunset alone. The last time you watched the sunset this long, you had gone to bed alone for the first time in six months. But that felt like a lifetime ago. Now you had Sanji by your side, and you had almost forgotten all of the pain he had gotten you through in those first few days you had been alone.

After a few minutes, you abandoned your place. The sun had mostly disappeared now, the deep reds and fiery oranges turning muted. You wandered down to the kitchen, hoping to find Sanji there.

You opened the door slightly, peeking in. Sanji was standing at the counter, smoking while reading the newspaper. He glanced up when he heard the door creak, and smiled when he saw you in the doorway.

“Hungry yet?”

You shrugged. “Maybe a little.” You walked over and took a seat on the barstool across from him.

“Good,” he said. “I’m trying out a new dessert. It’s just about ready. Just needs to cook for a bit more.”

You smile and nod. The air between you two is wired, like you’re both waiting for the other person to do something. You drum your fingertips on the countertop, nervous energy spilling out.

“Oh!” Sanji exclaims, and you jump at his voice. He reaches into his pocket, fishing out something, and holds his hand out.

“For you.” He opens his hand to reveal the conch shell he found earlier while you were diving, now attached to a simple black leather cord. It has a clasp on the end, the perfect length for a necklace.

You gasp, reaching out to grab it. “I love you!” you squeal.

Both of you freeze at your words.

“It,” you correct quickly. “I love it.”

You smiled nervously at each other, and he walked around behind you to put it around your neck. He lowers the necklace to your chest, and you brush at the back of your neck, holding away any strands of hair that might get caught.

It’s a simple thing, all of it very domestic and mundane in the grand scheme of your adventures, but you feel very small and vulnerable during the whole thing. Sanji clipped it into place and gently set it down, the metal clasp cold against your neck.

He spins you around to face him again. “Lovely,” he says, looking down at you in the seat.

“Thank you, Sanji.” You wish you could get him to understand just how grateful you are, but you can’t find the words to say it all.

You have the sudden urge to tie up loose ends. You were standing on your own feet now. You were ready to move forward.

“How much longer on the dessert?” you asked. You ran your hands through your hair, trying to shake off your nerves of the past few minutes.

“A few,” he said, looking back at the oven. “Should be ready soon.”

“Good.” You jumped up from your seat. “I’ll be right back.”

You ran out the door without waiting for a response, dashing towards your room. You had one last thing you had to return.

You opened your closet and grabbed the medicine ball. You were fairly certain it was the last thing of Zoro’s that was still in your room. Sanji had done an immaculate job on his cleanup the first night, and the few things he had missed you had thrown in the boys room whenever you saw it. You had found the weight in your closet two days ago, but hadn’t had the willpower to return it yet. But now felt like a good time to get it out. You put it in a bag, and walked out of your room.

Instead of heading to the boy’s cabin, you went out onto the deck, and started climbing the ladder to the crow’s nest. You ignored the few crewmembers who were still on deck, all of them stopping to stare. You couldn’t blame them for being curious.

You opened the hatch, and pulled yourself up into the room. You were sweating - making the climb with a twenty pound weight was no easy feat. But you felt good, regardless of the space you were in. Zoro was outside on the deck swinging weights around, unaware of your entry into his territory. For a moment you considered leaving the bag and running away, but you felt it was better to return it to him personally.

The door creaked when you opened it, and he whipped around to see who had snuck up on him.

“You really should get that door oiled,” you jest. It’s something you’ve said every time you passed through that door. You’re not sure why you feel the need to make an old joke, but thankfully he chuckles at your comment.

“That’s what you always say.” He puts his weights down and walks over to you. “You’re just mad you can’t sneak up on me.”

Your heart aches. It’d be so easy to fall back into this old pattern of playful jabs and snarky remarks with him, but you refrain from doing it further. It’d only be painful for you both.

“I brought your medicine ball back,” you said, handing out the bag to him.

“Oh.” There's a hint of sadness in his voice as he reaches for the bag. “Thanks.”

You nod, and turn to take your leave.

“Wait,” Zoro calls. There’s a slight desperation in his voice that makes you stop.

“Can we talk for a second?” He doesn’t sound angry, which is surprising to you. You turn to look at him, trying to get a better concept of what emotion he’s feeling.

“Zoro, I…” don’t think that’s a good idea yet, is what you were going to say. But the look in his eye makes you reconsider. After some hesitation, you walk over to the railing and gaze out at the stars. The sun has set, but there’s still some soft colors lingering in the sky.

“Sure,” you finally say. You finger your new necklace nervously, hoping you won’t regret agreeing.

“You seem happier.” He joins you at the railing, his gaze on the sky now as well.

“So do you,” you say quietly. You can feel the dull ache growing softer in your chest.

“I’m sorry for everything.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I do. I was a real dick. When we were together and after. I should’ve never said those things in the aquarium, and I really should’ve treated you better when we-”

“Zoro,” you say, cutting him off quickly. You push down the lump forming in your throat. “It’s fine. We both made mistakes.”

He scowled at you, irritated by your quickness to forgive. “Dammit, will you just let me apologize?”

You laugh. “It’s easier if you’re a villain in my head.” You lace your words with a joking tone, but you can’t help but feel some truth behind it.

He sighed, looking out at the horizon again. Only trace amounts of deep blues remain now, fading into inky blackness. “I wouldn’t blame you if you thought I was.”

“You’re not a bad person,” you whisper, afraid your voice will betray you. You can feel your eyes getting watery.

“I’m not a good one either.”

You laugh, and your voice catches in your throat. You can feel a tear slip down your cheek, but thankfully Zoro doesn’t comment on it.

“Maybe not,” you agree. “But you’re an honorable first mate, and a good friend, and a skilled swordsman. So that kind of makes up for it.”

He shoots you a look, a confused scowl on his face. “I’m joking!” You call out, giving him a playful shove. “Of course you’re a good person.”

His scowl only deepens. “You’re confusing,” he scoffs.

“As are you, Roronoa Zoro.”

He waits for a moment before he responds, and the two of you watch the last traces of color leave the sky. This would be the time when Zoro would silently get up and return to his training, leaving you alone with the stars.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t love you in the ways you wanted,” he finally says.

“Some people just aren’t meant to be.”

You look over to find him staring back at you. He quickly cuts his eyes away when he realizes he’s been caught, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks.

“I’m going to go,” you finally say, heading for the door. “It was nice chatting.”

“You and the cook…” Zoro says, and you feel yourself tense in fear of what would come next.

He lets out a deep sigh. “He really loves you. The way you deserve.”

Your head whips around to look at the swordsman, shocked by his words. You’ve never known Zoro to say a single nice thing about Sanji in his life.

“All those things he did for you trying to get under my skin? It wasn’t about me,” Zoro admitted. “It was all for you. I just didn’t want you to know. But now,” he stops to look at you one more time. “You deserve to know.”

Your mouth falls open at his words, your mind racing to think back to every nice thing Sanji had ever done. Was it really all for you? You found that hard to believe, but you also knew how deeply Sanji’s emotions ran.

“Thanks for telling me,” you whisper, and you turn on your heels to leave. It feels like a pretty dumb exit, but all your mind can think about now is Sanji.

You race down the ladder and burst into the kitchen, seeing him pull a small cake out of the oven. The smell of cocoa and cigarette smoke flows into your nostrils, and you stand in the doorway to take it all in.

“Luffy, I already told you.” Sanji sets the dessert down to cool, and then turns to face you. “It’s not for-”

He makes eye contact with you, and his gaze springs you into action. You close the gap between the two of you, and your arms snake around his neck, pulling him into you.

Your lips crash together, and you can feel his tenseness melt away against your skin. One of his hands presses into your back, pushing you closer to him. The other runs through your hair, caressing your head softly.

His tongue presses against your lips, requesting access to you. You open your mouth, a soft moan escaping your lips as you let him enter. Your tongue meets his, and you think back to the way it flicked across the oyster shell earlier. There’s salt on his lips, but his flavor is more than that. It reminds you of the mangos you ate on the island, with a dash of hot sauce on top.

He pulls away from you, your lips disconnecting from his against your will. You pout at him, leaning in for more, but he only smiles at you and rubs his nose against your own.

“We don’t have to rush, love,” he whispers. His words tickle your skin, and your pout disappears.

He combs your hair back into place and breaks free from your grasp to grab the dessert that was cooling. He pulls out two spoons from the drawer, and hands one to you.

He carves out a piece and holds it out for you to try. The chocolate sauce has pooled at the bottom of the curve, and the spongy cake that sat on top of it made your mouth water just looking at it.

You hum, wrapping your lips around the bite and pull away to chew it carefully. Flavors of raspberry, pineapple, and mango all blend together in the chocolatey mix. The fruit is fresh, probably some that Sanji stored aside from the island.

“What do you think?” He asks. He looks at you nervously, waiting for your answer.

You carve out a piece with your spoon, holding it up for him to try.

“I think it’s the kind of dessert that’s perfectly made for two,” you say with a smile on your face.

He chuckles at your comment, leaning in to give you another deep kiss.

“And I think I’m the one who was perfectly made for you.”

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x you #sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #cozage #made for two #✧˚sanji✧˚

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