#might just chop it off tonight

[arsonistman]

I’m going to kms if I don’t cut my hair soon

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: February 12

“This Is the Life” by Amy MacDonald

[ladadiida]

𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 as much as you wanted to stay by his side, you couldn't bear the thought of watching him fall in love with other women while you're stuck at the kitchen washing dishes and measuring ingredients. so you dreamt of leaving, of traveling to different islands to share your lovely songs and tunes; but the more your desire to leave grows, the more sanji finds himself drowning in your warmth.

or,

you and sanji over the years, wherein five times you tried to leave him and the one time you finally did, despite his refusal to let you go.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 musician reader, 5 + 1 things, pining, unrequited love, not actually unrequited love, heavy (kind of) angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 HERE IT IS! the response to the sneak peek was crazy, and so i rushed to get this done. i only watched the live action so beware of minor mistakes if you ever saw one. english is also not my first language and you are welcome to correct me anytime for any grammatical errors. title is a lyric from the last time by taylor swift ft. gary lightbody. this fic is also posted in ao3 with its full summary and WITH A BONUS CHAPTER. enjoy reading!

𝐰𝐜 11.3k

"There you are."

Your soapy, wet hands almost dropped the ceramic plate you were currently washing in the dirty kitchen sink as soon as you heard a familiar smooth and honeyed voice. Abruptly turning off the sink so that the sound of his approaching footsteps were clear to your ears, you wiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand before turning your body towards him.

He was carrying a stack of plates, a fresh batch to add to the pile you had to wash, with an obnoxious yet handsome smile plastered on his lips. You took a deep breath to calm the growing irritation at the bottom of your stomach, reminding yourself that this was your job and you only had a couple of hours to endure until you're free to lock yourself up in your bedroom. You were particularly looking forward to writing today, and the thought of finishing the lyrics to your new song tonight slightly eased your mood. Accepting your fate, you pointed to the remaining space beside the sink.

"Place it there." You told him, albeit begrudgingly as you turn on the sink again and pour more soap on the battered sponge.

You took a mental note to ask Zeff later about buying new sponges, and if you were lucky to catch him in a good mood, you'll put in a request to get the sink fixed and cleaned. Your eyes scanned over the grime and rust around the area. If you were going to spend the rest of your life washing dishes, then you might as well get a proper kitchen sink to do so.

An amused laugh fell out of the golden haired man you grew up with, surprised at your compliance to do the job you hated. The sound nearly sent your poor heart into a dizzying whirlwind of little nuisances called emotions. "What a hardworking woman."

"I could say the same to you. It seems like you have a new record today." You said while you splashed dirtied bowls with soap water, smiling at him teasingly, "Thought you would've been kicked out of the line by now."

"The old man just can't help but to accept the fact that I am a greater cook than him." He smirked, wiping a knife with a dish cloth. Trying not to roll your eyes, you shook your head at his usual display of arrogance, yet you can't help but to grin as you began to hear scratching sounds against the floors.

"Then you better get those chopped carrots ready." You replied, and when you got to finish your sentence, the doors to the kitchen swung open, revealing the head chef.

Zeff's cold and steely eyes immediately landed on the blond. He walked towards him with a fast pace despite only having one leg, his braided mustache bouncing in each step.

"Aye, aye, aye. Why haven't you started on the carrots yet, little eggplant? Can you get any slower?" He scolded, loud enough for the whole staff to hear, but none of them even flinched. You returned back to your plates and glasses, smiling softly. This was part of your routine everyday: to listen in their silly arguments.

However, before the younger chef can reply, you butted in, "Sanji fetched some of the plates for me. Since there's a lunch rush, I couldn't leave the kitchen."

Zeff let out a low hum. You couldn't even see Sanji's face, but you knew him well enough to know that he was smiling triumphantly, knowing that he won this time. After a few minutes of contemplating, the head chef clicked his tongue. "Don't defend him, little lass. But I'll let it slip this time. What are you waiting for, then? Start cutting them!"

"Yes, chef." Sanji answered in a jovial manner, placing the carrots on a chopping board.

Twisting the faucet lever so that the water flow from the sink is gentle and quiet, you then paid attention to their little banters every now and then. You brought up a wine glass and positioned it by your side to try to get a glimpse of the two most important men in your life. Through their reflection on the glass, you can see Zeff hunching over Sanji's knifework, nodding every time the vegetables were correctly sliced.

On the other hand, Sanji was unbothered by the head chef's observations and continued to cut the ingredients calmly. Some of the strands in his hair fell down on one side of his face, covering an eye, and most people would think that it was an unusual way of styling hair; yet it was one thing out of many that you loved the most about him.

You accepted it years ago.

You accepted the fact that you somehow fell in love with Sanji Vinsmoke along your weird journey of working in a sea restaurant full of former pirates and making music while at it. How the pesky feelings grew and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. Maybe it was when he learned to cook your favorite food and gave it to you afterwards, or the way his crystal blue eyes reminded you of snowflakes every winter.

Or maybe it was when he pulled your hair out of jealousy the moment he learned that Zeff would be taking in another child in his care, but brushed it and even braided it after the latter cleared the misunderstanding. Maybe it was when he supported you in your dreams and told you they weren't silly, maybe it was when he fought off drunk men that were trying to hit on you. Or maybe it was the way his voice would drop an octave lower whenever he asks you for a favor. The list could go on and on and you still wouldn't know the reason why. It doesn't matter anyway. You tripped, you fell, and now you're pining.

Drying off the last of the plates, you washed your own hands after and patted them dry on your skirt. You were the last one to leave the kitchen, the other staff already back in their quarters after a long, exhausting day of cooking. You fixed the signature blue bandana tied in your hair then went on your way towards the upper deck.

You weren't blessed with a talent in cooking, so you offered to do chores instead. Washing the dishes, cleaning the restaurant, and doing the laundry were few of the things you do in the Baratie. You can't say that you enjoy it, but you were beyond grateful that Zeff gave you a chance despite his opposition to let a woman work inside his restaurant.

As you were about to go to the newly laundered clothes you hung on a thin wire earlier that morning, you heard two voices speaking. You also smelled cigarette smoke wafting through the air, and you only knew one person who could be smoking at this hour. Your breath hitched in anticipation.

"You bringing a woman to your bed again, Sanji?" The other person asked playfully, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice. You carefully took a peek so you won't accidentally reveal yourself and be accused of eavesdropping. Two people came into view with their backs facing you.

"Now, what are you talking about, Patty? I am a gentleman. I only had a nice chat with the lovely lady and escorted her back to her ship." Sanji interjected, a cigarette hanging on his lips.

Patty huffed. "I didn't know that chatting included kiss marks on jawlines."

This caused Sanji to laugh and say, "Not my fault she was charmed by my food."

"The boss man ain't gonna like it when he finds out about this."

"He's not gonna find out." Sanji assured him, wiping off the said kiss mark on his jaw. You stared at him as he did so, and you pitied the woman who planted that kiss, knowing she was just one of the many beautiful ladies Sanji had flirted with before. However, a tinge of pain in your chest said otherwise, taunting you that it was not pity you're feeling, but foul jealousy.

"Why don't you look for more decent women, eh? How about 'little lass' for a change?" Patty suddenly suggested.

It was like someone had hit your stomach with one of the metal pans in the kitchen with the way it lurched in surprise and nervousness. Your heartbeat started to quicken the longer you waited for his response, making your grip on your skirt tighter. In moments like these, you allowed yourself to hope, to wish that he saw something in you and that he finds you beautiful and lovely enough to be the person standing by his side.

But his answer made all that hope crumble down into nothing but dust.

"I don't see her that way." Sanji said after a long stretch of silence, taking a long drag from the cigarette then releasing the smoke in a single breath.

Ah.

You blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from forming. It's always been like this, so why can't you get used to it? Taking a deep breath, you gulped away the knot forming in your throat and decided to leave. You can grab the clothes later.

"You're too kind for him." Someone behind you spoke, making you jump and tense up. Turning around, you saw Zeff looking at you with an unreadable emotion in his eyes and his hands on his hips, almost like he knew your secret. Of course he does. He always sees everything.

You stumbled on your words. "Sir?"

"That boy is always up to something." He began, switching his attention to Sanji. "One minute he's stubbornly immature in the kitchen, and the next he'll be a thirsty man staring at women like they're liquid booze."

Clearing your throat, you forced a smile.

"Well, he can be a lot sometimes." You agreed, remembering the days when the two of you would fight over irrelevant matters. Then you chuckled and continued, "But he's kind. He's gentle, and lovely, like a freshly made poem you keep repeating in your head. But then he's also confusing, hot-headed, and reckless. He's like the sea, isn't he? Calm yet wrapped with mystery, dangerous yet beautiful..."

You trailed off, an unbearable heat rising up your cheeks and neck once you slowly began to realize that you just ranted out your feelings to the head chef. You glanced at him with wide eyes, preparing to see a disgusted look on his face; however, Zeff didn't appear to be repulsed by your little speech. In fact, the corners of his lips were slightly quirked up.

"But I cannot swim. If I were to drown, he wouldn't save me." You quickly added, hoping to shut down the topic.

He sighed. "You will meet someone who deserves you as much as you deserve them, little lass." He simply said. He then laid his hand out, and on his palm was a little box poorly tied with a ribbon. "Here, for you."

Altnough you were a bit confused at the random gift, you accepted it and cradled the box to your chest. "I'll be okay, Zeff." You insisted, grinning cheekily. "When I become famous, I'll sing my songs here in Baratie, and people would flood the restaurant to hear my singing. And to eat your food too, of course."

The head chef nodded, relief flooding his expression. "I look forward to that." He said while awkwardly returning your smile.

That night, when you were sure that everyone in the Baratie was asleep, you opened the loose floorboard on the floors of your bedroom and grabbed the wooden box you kept hidden for a long time now. You opened the lid and began counting the Berry you saved for the past few months.

Tomorrow was the perfect day to leave.

You just can't stay here. Yes, you had a roof over your head, delicious food to eat everyday, and clean clothes to wear but you were so miserable. This wasn't the life you wanted. You wish to go out there, sing your heart out, and fall in love with someone who actually loves you back.

A knock on your door made you freeze. You held your breath as the person on the other side continued to knock a few more times. "You awake?"

Pain surged through your veins, your chest twisting in agony. Sanji.

"You didn't come down for dinner. I guess you're too tired, hmm?" He said, his muffled voice gentle, and the sound almost prompted you to stand up and open the door for him. But you dug your fingernails in your palms and resisted, because you can't just let this opportunity pass by.

You heard a brief clinking sound before Sanji spoke again, "Sweet dreams, ange."

Once his footsteps faded away, you cautiously moved towards your door and opened it as quietly as you can. There, on the floor, was a small plate with a slice of your favorite desert: angel's food cake, topped with fresh cream and strawberries.

You bent down and saw a note beside the plate. And when you got to read the contents of the note, you burst into tears and sobs that wracked down your entire body.

Happy Birthday

— S.

You ate the cake with tears silently falling down your cheeks, and that was the first time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

Today was the day, and you won't allow anyone to ruin it for you.

You had saved enough Berries to travel around the world and sustain yourself for the upcoming months. Your notebook containing the lyrics of the songs you wrote laid open on top of your bed as you spent all night revising them while planning out an itinerary. Then you'll find a place to settle in, a stable job that required doing what you loved the most, and overall just be peaceful and free from pirates and chefs and pirate chefs. It was perfect.

Folded clothes surrounded you everywhere, ready to be packed in your bags. Once you finished stuffing them all in, you grabbed your treasured instrument, the one thing you couldn't live without: your guitar, which has been with you since you were a little child. It was given by your mother and you've been attached to it ever since.

It has scratches all over its wooden surface, and the strings needed some fixing occassionally, but you wouldn't trade it for the greatest treasures in the world. You ran your fingers over it, suddenly feeling like it was lacking something. Seeing the paint chipping off at the corners, you figured that it needed a little color.  You'll need lacquer, and paint if you managed to find some.

You set the guitar aside and left your bedroom to head downstairs to the kitchen. As you were about to push the doors open, a loud, angry shout made you stop in your tracks.

"I won't ever become a pathetic waiter for you!" Sanji's thunderous yells can be heard from outside. Your shoulders tensed up. It was a good thing that brunch was over and all the customers had left.

Zeff's own furious voice followed, "Leave then, for all I care! You can do anything you want, but don't you ever serve one of your shit dishes in my kitchen!"

A frown settled on your face. Their fights were a normal occurrence to you, but this one sounded more grave than usual. Crossing your arms, you stepped in closer to the entrance and hesitated whether you should go in or not. Before you could make a decision, Zeff beat you to it by pushing the doors open, rage emanating from his figure as he ignored and walked past you.

Without hesitation this time, you entered the kitchen, greeted by the sight of Sanji bowing over the counter, breathing heavily, his face covered with his hair. He didn't move an inch even as you approached him, the clacking of the heels in your boots echoing throughout the room.

Both of you were silent as you rummaged through cabinets, trying to find lacquer to cover your guitar with, while he tried his best to calm himself down after his outburst. Many cupboards later, you finally found a small can of used up lacquer, but as you started to reach for it, your hand completely stopped mid-air.

You looked over your shoulder, and found Sanji already recovered from the argument seeing that he was on the move again, preparing a cut of beef tenderloin and other ingredients he needed for tonight's dinner.

Slowly, you closed the cupboard and went closer to him. He still refused to look at you. And so you watched him place a bag of flour on the countertop, slices of cold butter, and a variety of spice bottles to season the meat with.

Sanji began to wrap twine around the beef tenderloin. You sighed, and before you could stop yourself, you grabbed a bowl and decided to help him. Your guitar can wait.

It was rare for you to cook inside the kitchen, having so little knowledge about food and how they were prepared, but you knew this recipe well. You poured two cups of flour through the sifter, followed by placing heaps of the cold butter in the mixture.

The moment you started to mix the dough for the puff pastry, Sanji quickly pointed out in a monotone voice, "You're adding too much butter."

You raised your head and glanced at him, his attention now on the meat he was searing on a skillet. You smiled, glad that he was speaking again.

"You're beginning to sound like the old man himself." You joked lightly.

His jaw clenched. "Don't compare me to that shitty geezer."

In a softer voice, you asked, "What happened?"

"The usual." He replied curtly. "Didn't approve of my dishes."

You perked up upon hearing about a dish he made himself. Sanji was talented when it comes to creating his own recipes, and sometimes, you would be the person he chooses to test them out. Every time he lets you taste them, your chest would feel warm and you wouldn't be able to sleep for days because you'll keep replaying it in your head. "What did you make this time?"

"It doesn't matter. He'll never agree to any of them."

"Maybe I can—"

"Drop it. Don't poke your nose in things you're not involved." Sanji cut you off, his hardened gaze meeting your concerned stare. You only blinked at him, straightening up.

"I see." You muttered, eyes landing on the bag of flour. You looked at him, then at the flour, then back at him. A smile began to form on your lips as a devious plan formulated itself in your brain. Sticking your hand inside the bag of flour, you took a fistful of the pillowy powder and threw it straight into his face.

Sanji jumped back, flinching and closing his eyes when some of the flour's particles managed to enter them. His jaw dropped open in surprise, hands quickly removing themselves from the skillet's handle to dust off the flour that rested on his now white hair. You tried to stifle a laugh as you watched him struggle getting the flour out.

Once he managed to clean himself, he stared straight at you and said in the calmest way possible, even if you knew deep inside that he was fuming, "What was that for?"

A high-pitched snort left your mouth. You covered it to prevent yourself from laughing.

You cleared your throat and smiled at him innocently. "Am I involved now?"

His piercing blue eyes then started to sparkle with mirth, amusement replacing the vexation previously swimming in them. He also looked to be trying to push down a smile, and that made your heart skip a beat. "You're insufferable."

He reached for the bag of flour. You squeaked and took off running, trying to escape from his attack, but he still managed to throw a small amount on you. Giggling, you ran the opposite direction to confuse him, and yet he caught up with you, throwing another round of flour. This time, it hit your cheeks, making you laugh loudly. He laughed along, pointing a finger at you because you probably looked crazy at the moment.

You tried to take the bag of flour away from him, but he just took it an as opportunity to catch your arm and grip it firmly. He pulled you into his chest, caging you completely.

With your cheeks warm and your breaths short, you tilted your head up and looked at him, noticing the way that you were both covered in flour; and not only that, you also noticed the short distance between your bodies and how your noses were almost touching. His pupils were dilated, black dominating the alluring blue shade that kept haunting your dreams. You drank in the attention he was giving you, the breathing coming out from his soft lips, and the comfortable silence that wrapped around the both of you like a safe little bubble.

"Caught you." Sanji muttered, voice deeper and huskier, making you let out a quiet sigh. His arms snaked around your waist as he leaned in closer. A million questions started to run inside your head, begging to know what this situation was and how you got into it. "Nowhere to run now, darling."

A slamming of doors shattered the secret moment you shared, and you immediately pulled away from each other. You pushed down your disappointment and hid it in the secret crevice in your heart as the two of you faced your intruder.

Zeff observed your flour-laden figures, his thick eyebrows scrunched together in irritation. He then demanded, voice seething and dripping with anger, "What in the hell are you two little brats doing?"

Sanji blurted out in defense, "Zeff, we—she was the one who started it!"

"And you went along with it!" You accused incredulously, grinning from ear-to-ear. Sanji grinned back, shaking his head and biting his lower lip.

"Oh, shut up before I stitch your mouths! Just by looking at you two, I already know that you snot-nosed shits are both at fault!" Zeff shouted, clicking his tongue at the sight of the half emptied flour. "Wasted them good flour for your childish fights. You're even worse than fatwits. Get out and clean the toilets!"

"Not the shitty toilets!" Sanji groaned, and you couldn't blame him for it. The bathroom area smelled revolting and the floors were always wet for some reason.

"I don't wanna hear complaints from you when you've dirtied my kitchen! Off you go!" Zeff dismissed, and you can't help but to laugh again when you saw Sanji pout like a little kid.

The head chef watched the two of you leave the kitchen together while giggling and exchanging fond looks. Patty, who also saw the whole situation unfold, suddenly appeared beside him, snickering, "I can already hear the wedding bells ringing."

Zeff took a deep, tired breath.

"Oh, they're ringing alright."

You cleaned and scrubbed the toilets the entire afternoon with the man you're in love with, flushing your plans down the drain and forgetting all about them, and that was the second time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

You didn't know how you ended up in a ship full of pirates.

Well, maybe you knew. A little. But it wasn't supposed to be like this.

Your knuckles were beginning to turn white with how tight you were clenching them. A mix of emotions swirled around in your chest, namely confusion, impatience, and hesitation, pondering about whether you should be irritated at yourself or at Sanji.

The opportunity was there, handed to you like a steak on a golden platter, or a miracle that suddenly fell from the sky. The day you met Luffy and his strange pirate crew was the day you immediately realized that he was the key to your exit from the Baratie. He was friendly; a good pirate, according to his own words, so you figured he would allow you to tag along for a while until you find an island to get off to. You just had to ask for his permission and wait for his reply.

Luffy agreed. And you were ecstatic. You were finally going to leave Sanji Vinsmoke and your pathetic, unrequited feelings behind.

Or so you thought.

You watched in horror as he followed you when you boarded the Going Merry, also carrying a bag of his own. He said something along the lines of Luffy needing a cook for the journey to the Grand Line but you couldn't care less. You got here first. Why was he here?

So here you were, sitting in a corner, lonelier than ever and regretting your life decisions. You watched Luffy and his friends celebrate after defeating the pirate Arlong and saving Coco Village from his inhuman hold over its people, but Sanji and the beautiful orange haired Nami were nowhere in sight.

The thought of them being gone together at the same time left a bitter aftertaste on your tongue.

Nami. The first time you laid eyes on her, ethereal was the word that came up to your mind. With soft deep saffron locks that framed her small face and a wide blue eyed gaze, she would have the cruelest of men begging for mercy and affection at her feet.

Unfortunately, Sanji was one of those men.

Fuck, you cursed mentally, rubbing your face with your hands to try and forget about the times he flirted with her and the moments he wouldn't stop talking about her or kept asking about her favorite food or dessert or if she's into blonds. Your already battered heart doesn't need the usual reminder that he'll never see you that way, that you weren't going to experience his sweet words and his loving gazes.

You took a sharp breath. It's okay, you tell yourself over and over again until they were buried in your heart. They'll make a great pair, Sanji the cook and Nami the thief. A strong man with an equally strong woman. Yes. That makes sense.

You'll leave soon anyway, and you'll no longer have to worry about seeing them or how they were going to end up together.

And yet you can't help but to think about the things that could've been if you were the one he was in love with instead.

You were crossing your arms and hugging yourself as the crisp afternoon air was getting chilly when a hand gripping a shot glass filled with amber liquid appeared in front of you. Looking up, you saw Luffy smiling widely at you, waving the glass encouragingly.

"Come on, just one drink! Usopp poured this for you!" The captain exclaimed heartily, obviously trying to uplift your spirits and to make you feel welcomed in his crew, even though you did nothing but to guard the Going Merry while they were fighting for their lives.

You shook your head and smiled politely. "No, I don't drink. Sorry."

Luffy's smile faltered, but he recovered quickly. He nodded, setting the glass down on top of a barrel. "Well, okay." He said, then turned to Usopp, who was currently downing a whole bottle of whiskey. "Hey, where's Nami?"

"Oh, she's with the cook," Usopp replied cheekily, wiping his mouth after drinking. There was a teasing tone in his voice as he continued, "Someone's getting a boyfriend tonight!"

With that said, you reached for the shot glass that Luffy was offering you earlier, grabbed it swiftly, and poured the whole thing down your throat. The whiskey tasted unfamiliar, and it burned and made you dizzy at first taste, but it doesn't matter; as long as it can make you forget just for a little while, you were willing to drink more of the horrible beverage.

Zoro, the green haired swordsman and the captain's first mate, stared at you as if you had lost your mind, but a tinge of concern was visibly written on his face. "Woah, slow down." He warned sternly.

"I thought you didn't drink." Was all Luffy said, blinking in confusion. You chuckled tiredly.

"Now I do."

Drink after drink, glass after glass. You lost count on how many times Usopp poured whiskey for you, or how many times Zoro shook his head in disbelief. Luffy was the same old happy-go-lucky captain throughout the disaster that was starting to brew inside you, turning your brain into mush. You can barely lift your head or your fingers as you asked for another shot in an incoherent voice. Luckily, Usopp was still able to understand you, tipping the whiskey bottle yet again towards your glass.

You started to raise the glass to your lips, eager to just get severely drunk and be over with it already. However, you suddenly felt strong fingers wrap around your wrist to stop you from drinking; and when you caught sight of a familiar silver ring with Baratie's jolly roger inlaid upon it, you didn't need to look up to know who it was.

Sanji's voice was unnervingly calm as he questioned the crew, but the slight shake in his words lets you know otherwise. "Which one of you allowed her to drink?"

"No one. She took the glass and made the decision herself." Zoro drawled, challenging the chef, "The last time I checked, waiter, you were supposed to be the one responsible for her."

Sanji ignored him and turned his attention to you. He stole the shot glass away from you, then kneeled and held your hands comfortingly, smiling. "Come on, ange. It's time for you to rest now." He said quietly, yet loud enough for only you to hear.

You stubbornly shook your head repeatedly and whined loudly. "No! Don't touch me!" You cried, prying your hands away from his, "I don't like you...!"

Zoro huffed in amusement at your declaration. Sanji glared at him for a short second before looking at you again. This time, he stood and gently placed his arms under your shoulders to raise you up. Once you were standing on your feet, he swept you up and carried you bridal style with ease. Another whine escaped your lips.

"Put me down! I want another drink, please, just one more!" You pleaded while throwing weak punches on his chest. Sanji only smiled and began to lead you towards the sleeping quarters. You continued to thrash in his arms as he walked slowly and in small steps so he wouldn't drop you.

Sanji carefully set you down on your hammock. "No drinks for you until you actually learn how to take them." He told you, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. His thumb caressed the soft skin of your cheek and rubbed it in circles, noting how fast you were heating up due to the alcohol. You pouted.

"Pretty please, Sanji...please..."

He chuckled, staring at you intensely. "Maybe some other time, ange."

You went quiet, staring back at him with half-lidded eyes. Then, you crossed your arms like a child and asked, "Why do you keep calling me that?"

Sanji raised a brow. "Call you what? Ange?"

You nodded. "I don't like it."

He began to smile, the dimples on his cheeks appearing. You briefly wondered if he'd allow you to poke and feel them. "Why?"

"I don't know what it means. Is it an insult?" You wondered aloud, your eyes widening in curiosity.

A hearty and warm laugh came out from Sanji, his eyes forming half-moons as he cackled at your words like they were the biggest joke he heard in his entire life, "Oh, my dear girl, how could I possibly insult you?" He managed to speak between laughs, "It means angel. You're an angel, to me at least. My angel."

Oh.

Your lips parted in surprise. Blinking, you simply said, "You're not Sanji."

He's not Sanji. He wouldn't call you angel; you're not even sure if he found you beautiful or attractive. You wear the same old tattered dresses that Zeff bought for you a long time ago, and you didn't even bother to style your hair or put on face powder like all the other beautiful ladies do. You look nowhere near to an angel.

But Sanji only grinned. "I assure you, I am very much Sanji. The little brat who pulled your hair when we were barely eleven years old."

Your breath hitched at the thought of him remembering one of your fond memories in your childhood. "You remembered."

"Of course I remembered." He whispered, cupping your cheek one last time before he got ready to leave. He turned on his heel and was about to walk away when you spoke.

"Are you going to see her again?" You asked, and he quickly noticed how broken your voice sounded. Sanji faced you in concern and was taken aback with how deep you were frowning. He figured that you were just drunk and women tend to be different when they were intoxicated. You were no exception to that, it seemed.

"Hm?" He hummed, prompting you to elaborate further.

Tears began to form in the corners of your eyes. You shakily mumbled, "Nami...you're going to Nami, aren't you?"

Sanji froze, an icy cold rush filling up his body. A knot formed in his throat, and it continued to tighten the longer he stared at your face. You looked so hurt—like he just destroyed your beloved guitar into pieces. Your lower lips were trembling, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. For a moment, he couldn't find the courage to answer you, feeling like he could die at any second now if he answers your question.

But the answer was simple.

"Yes." He breathed out, a sharp pain stabbing through his heart.

And it only became worse when a teardrop finally rolled down your cheek. "Why?" You rasped, and Sanji didn't know that a single word can hurt this much.

He tried to give you a reassuring smile but awfully failed to do so. He started to explain, "We were just discussing something—"

"Why not me?"

Those three words coming out of your mouth felt like a final blow to his heart. He can feel himself bleed, drained of life and soul because of you and your words alone, and he let you. He let you kill him, he let you make him swim in his own guilt and he doesn't why, why, why.

More tears fell out of your angelic eyes, staining your cheeks with wet trails, and he tried to hold himself back from wiping them off. You choked out, "Why not me, Sanji? I have been asking myself that question for the past decade, and it eats my brain every night like some kind of plague, but I let it anyway. Because why? Why can't you just recognize me and appreciate me and see me? Why can't you go to me if you want to talk about your dreams, or what dish you're planning to create? Why do you have to seek solace in other women when you have me standing by your side everyday, me who is willing to listen to you and whatever you have to say?"

Angry, red rimmed eyes glared at him. Your hair strands stuck to your skin and framed your face as sweat began to form on your forehead. Teardrops clung to your wet eyelashes and your face was drenched like you just took a swim in the ocean. You were burning with fury and rage and want, struggling to breathe properly after your little rant, and Sanji thought you couldn't be more beautiful. You were so beautiful.

"Oh but I couldn't blame you for that. She's just so beautiful, so perfect, and so strong. She could give you anything you wanted and she could be anything that I never was." You hiccuped, smiling forcibly, "But in the end...I will still love you. I will always love you. I think."

You scooted closer to him, leaning in until your faces only had a few inches apart between them. You didn't notice how his lips were slightly parted in shock, nor his eyes that were starting to glisten with his own tears. "No matter where I flee to, or where I lay my heart on, or which skies I look at—it's always you, Sanji. It's always been you."

"I had been so selfless all these years, Sanji. So please, can you pretend to like me too, just for today, before I leave?" You whispered meekly, cupping his cheeks with both of your hands. Numb and completely speechless, Sanji simply gave you a single nod as a response.

You gingerly pressed your lips against his, and he immediately tasted the saltiness of your tears. But your lips were soft, as he expected from an angel like you. And so he couldn't help himself; he closed his eyes and delicately kissed you back, repeating your name in his mind like a sacred prayer and wishing to the stars above to not let the moment end.

However, you broke the kiss by losing consciousness and falling down on your hammock, knocked out and peacefully snoring.

Sanji spaced out, not moving from his position. No. It's not that he didn't want to move—he couldn't move. He couldn't feel anything except for the drumming of his heart, knocking on his chest desperately. His lips were still tingling and his ears and neck were warming up.

He gulped, loosening the collar of his shirt to cool himself down. He needed a cigarette. And a drink.

Scrambling to get up even with his trembling legs, Sanji managed to stand properly. He avoided your sleeping figure and decided to get out of the room as soon as possible. However, when he took a step forward, his foot touched a notebook lying on the floor.

Sanji bent down and took the notebook. He flipped it open, and after reading only the first page, he finally came into a conclusion.

Heartbroken, drunk, and unaware, you dozed off the rest of the afternoon. When nightfall settled on the azure horizon and dusk fell on the rough surface of the sea, you missed the chance to walk away from the crew yet again; and that was the third time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

The next morning, you woke up feeling much better with only the memory of you drinking and crying yourself to sleep and nothing else. Everything was normal, and the crew began to make plans for their next adventure during breakfast.

Everything was normal, except for Sanji, who was quiet throughout the whole discussion. And of course, just like always, you were the only one who noticed his strange behavior. You tried to catch his eyes, but he looked at everywhere except you.

When he finally met your gaze, you gave him a soft smile, hoping he would smile back and everything was fine and you were just overthinking it.

He doesn't.

⸻ • ⸻

"Are you really going to leave?"

Taking your gaze away from the heart shaped cloud you spotted on the clear blue sky, you faced the person who asked the question you were dreading for some time now. Luffy was staring curiously at you, awaiting your answer. You can't help but to smile softly at the captain, whose kindness you have yet to repay.

"I believe we already talked about this, captain." You said, recalling your short conversation last night. He kept asking you if you were really sure about your decision while his eyes darted to a certain blond haired chef every time he shoots you the question. It was strange, and you felt even more suspicious when Sanji pretended not to hear your answer and even refused to glance your way.

Luffy put his hands on his hips. "You know, you're welcome to stay and be a part of my crew."

You crossed your arms, smile growing wide. "And what, pray tell, is my role? Sing battle songs and chant your names while you swing your gummy arms at pirates?" You joked playfully.

The young captain stroked his chin in deep thought, almost like he was considering your suggestion. "That's not a bad idea."

You bursted out laughing, shaking your head in disbelief, "I'll leave first thing in the morning. I told Nami to dock at a nearby island."

"What about Sanji?" He suddenly questioned, leaving you flabbergasted for a split second. You weren't prepared to hear Sanji's name after days of not talking to him properly.

Him not speaking with you wasn't a strange occurence at all; back when you were still in the Baratie, there would be days when Sanji wouldn't bother to acknowledge your presence and would completely ignore you. This would happen whenever he was extremely busy with his cooking or he had a disagreement with Zeff.

And it seemed like this was one of those days, seeing that he had been ignoring you for about a week now. Yes, you have been keeping count. Although he doesn't appear to be angry with you, the short-lived exchanges and the abrupt cut-offs before you could say anything deeply concerned you more than it should have.

You tried to rack your brains for reasons on why he was acting like this. Maybe Nami had rejected him for the hundredth time, or Zoro kept throwing insults in his direction—or maybe his cigarette packet had ran out. Maybe his kitchen knives weren't sharp anymore and he was struggling in the kitchen.

Should you ask him? Should you go to him and demand him to tell you what's wrong?

You pressed your lips together. It sounded like the worst idea you've thought of so far. You convinced yourself that Sanji was fine and he'd be back to normal in no time; there would no need to talk to him.

"What about him?" You faltered, chuckling to ease the tension in your body.

"You care for each other." Luffy explained bluntly and matter-of-factly, "What does he think about you leaving?"

A shaky sigh made its way out of your lips. How will you tell the captain that his cook has been avoiding you like you were some kind of rotten fish these days?

"I..." You stammered, gathering the courage to lie to Luffy even if you thought it would be the gravest sin you could commit, "He...agrees. Yeah. No need to worry."

Luffy grinned, but it didn't look normal at all. You winced in embarrassment. He knew that you were lying and was totally unconvinced.

Luckily, he didn't voice it out. He only nodded and said, "Great! Oh, I have an idea! Why don't you sing for us before we part ways? Think of it as a farewell party for the crew."

Hearing the pure and genuine excitement dripping from his voice, you couldn't turn him down. It was a good idea too, and now that you thought about it, you haven't performed for them yet. "Sure." You agreed, shrugging.

He raised his fist up in the air and cheered. You smiled, watching as he shouted for his crewmates' names to come down and listen to you sing. You prepared yourself for an impromptu performance, making sure that your guitar was properly tuned and your voice was clear enough to give you the best version of your singing. Sitting on top of a barrel, you faced your audience of four, all their eager eyes watching your every move.

As you struck the first chord to your song, you tried hard not to think that Sanji wasn't there to watch you sing the song you secretly dedicate to him.

In the kitchen, Sanji busied himself by plating the food that he'll serve to his fellow crew mates for dinner. He grabbed a large plate and placed the chicken drumsticks that his captain favored, but Luffy wasn't the one in his mind when he cooked those. Looking at the food, he wondered if you would love them too.

He shook his thoughts off and took the plate with him outside. Approaching the crew, his steps slowed down when he heard a familiar singing voice and a melodic tune of a guitar.

Sanji almost dropped the plate.

It was you. Of course it was you, you were the only one he knew who had a voice like that. It was you, and you were singing with a lovely smile painted on your sweet lips, the very same lips that touched his a few days ago, resulting in him not getting a wink of sleep every night. The beam of the sunset right behind you colored your hair in the different shades of the sky as the dulcet-filled notes you made echoed throughout the vast sea. For a moment, he was worried that you were going to attract ferocious sea beasts with your angelic voice and steal you away from him.

He could hear his blood pound in his ears the longer he observed you from afar. You looked happy. Happier than you were when you stayed with him and Zeff. His chest tightened, knowing that you leaving and go on adventures on your own was probably the best decision you could make, even if that means leaving him too.

You were finishing up your song by the time you saw Sanji standing behind Usopp, silently listening. He met your gaze, and for the first time ever, you couldn't read his mind. His expression was blank as you stared at each other, and as you opened your mouth to say something, he cut you off.

"Dinner's ready." Sanji announced shortly, setting down the plate in front of Luffy and then walked away without saying another word.

That was your final straw. You immediately put down your guitar and followed him into the kitchen. You didn't care about how you felt Nami's watchful eyes on you as you went after him, nor how Luffy was scarfing down the dinner and was definitely going to finish it all before you could take a bite; you just chased the blond with determination oozing out of you.

You roughly pushed the door open and found Sanji washing the pans he used for cooking. He glanced at you briefly then quickly looked away after. This irritated you even more as you demanded, "Is there something bothering you?"

"You should eat before the food gets cold." He said with an empty voice.

"Sanji!"

He stiffened. You rarely raised your voice at anyone. Sighing in defeat, he dried off his hands and fully faced you.

Your eyes were sharper than his knives, cutting straight into his soul. "I've known you for a long time now, do you think I don't notice whenever you have a problem?" You glowered, taking a step closer to him, "You have a problem. What is it?"

It happened fast. His hand landed on the small of your back and pulled you to his chest, and the other was placed on top of your cheek, and in a single motion, Sanji captured your lips with his. You gasped in the kiss, your heart dropping to the soles of your feet when he tilted his face to deepen it. Your fingers tightly grasped the sleeves of his shirt for support as he passionately moved his lips against yours. A pleasant heat ran down your spine, your whole body tingling and warming up. You were simply drowning. There was no other way to describe it, and it was only caused by his fervent kisses.

Sanji pulled away, resting your forehead on top of yours, and you took it as an opportunity to breathe in air that you lost. "You are the problem." He murmured lowly, eyes darting down to your swollen lips. Confused and lightheaded, you didn't get the chance to retort.

"Ever since that night, ange, you occupy my thoughts. You gave me a taste of your lips and you didn't even remember the next day. Do you know how that feels, hm?" He said, pecking your lips once again. You made a noise in the back of your throat, turning your head sideways so he couldn't kiss you anymore, but he took your chin and hungrily connected both of your lips.

He spoke between kisses, "You torture me. Ever since I read those songs you wrote about me in that little notebook of yours, you torture me with your presence."

That was when you snapped out of your daze. With all the force you could muster, you placed your hands on his chest and pushed him away. Sanji stepped back, surprised at your reaction.

Without giving him a chance to ask you anything, you ran off and left the kitchen, slamming the door loudly so you wouldn't hear him calling your name and be tempted to go back in his arms again.

You arrived in the sleeping quarters, locking the door behind you. You were sure that the others would understand you needing your alone time. Once you made sure you were on your own, your body collapsed altogether, your back sliding down against the door as you panted heavily.

He knows, was all you could think about. He knows about the songs. He knows about your feelings.

Well, you finally got your answer to your previous question, but a more complicated one replaced it. With trembling hands, your fingers raised themselves to your lips, touching its surface. You hated the way that you still felt his warmth on top of them.

A lone tear slid down the side of your nose. He was cruel. Sanji was cruel.

You didn't come out of that room for days, refusing to talk to anyone as you gathered your scrambled throughts and pulled yourself back together, and that was the fourth time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

A stack of books, most of them being a collection of maps compiled in one, rested beside you while you flipped through the pages of the one you chose among them.

Nami has been lending you her books ever since you shut yourself out from the crew. You ignored all of them and only let Nami in, hoping that she'll be able to understand you; and she did. She was a good listener. Although you weren't particularly close with each other, you trusted her and told her everything: your dreams, your problems, your feelings, and Sanji. In return, she confided in you too.

"Here. So you can finally decide on where you will go to," You recall her saying while she handed you her collection of world map books, "and to distract yourself, of course."

"You're too kind, Nami." You said in admiration. Maybe this is why Sanji was enamored with her. She was a beauty inside and out.

Nami shrugged, yet she was smiling. "Just helping a fellow woman out."

The books did take your mind off the stubborn blond haired man that was still resting inside your heart, even if it was only for a fleeting moment. You tried to search for islands that will be suitable for you to start your career, narrowing some of them down into choices, but your eyes wil always lead back to where the Baratie was stationed.

You leaned back against your chair, letting your head hit the wall with a soft thud as you released a sigh of frustration. Not only will you need to prepare yourself for a journey all alone, but you also have to talk to Sanji sooner or later, whether you like it or not. The kiss distracted you more than the books Nami gave you. You think of it in the morning and dream of it at night, and it only got worse every time you remembered that he kissed you like he loved you.

Relaxing in your seat, you closed the book and listened to the silence.

The Going Merry docked for a quick trip to a market to gather fresh ingredients for food. Sanji will be gone for the meantime and you were free to roam around the ship without his heated stare boring holes in your skin.

But the peace was ruined by rushed footsteps and Usopp breaking into the room, almost destroying the door with his brute force. You frowned, standing up on alert when you saw how nervous he looked.

"Sanji's injured!" He exclaimed, which got your brow raising, knowing that he had a long history of lying to people. However, he forcibly pulled Sanji inside, and you were greeted by the sight of a bruised man, whose lips were bleeding and cheeks were starting to yellow.

You immediately sprang into action. You took the first aid kit you packed in your bag and grabbed his arm, making him sit down on your chair.

"How did you get into a fight in just a span of ten minutes?" You asked in irritation, wetting a cloth with saltwater to wipe off the blood on his lips.

Sanji grunted, tensing up when you took a hold of his face and dabbed on his lip using the cloth. "Some petty vendor was selling overpriced onions, and they weren't even the best of quality."

You stopped for a minute, glaring at him. "So you decided to punch them instead of talking it over?"

He only huffed in reply. Pursing your lips in annoyance, you continued to treat his wounds in silence, noticing him flinching and wincing in pain whenever you compress the bruised area with ice. "Who's being petty now?" You scolded impatiently, "Stay still."

The only sound that filled the room was you hastily rummaging your kit trying to find an ointment and an awkward silence that made you want to jump into the sea and never swim back to the surface. You unscrewed the lid of the jar of ointment and scooped some with your finger, looking at Sanji as you did so. He looked back at you quietly, and you tried hard not to think about the fact that you have to touch his lips in order for you to apply it.

It seemed like he realized that too, glancing down at the dollop of ointment on top of your finger, then back to you. You just gave him a small, uneasy smile, showing him that you weren't uncomfortable even though you were, and shyly took a step forward.

As gently as you could, you spread the ointment on the wounded area on his lips, reminding yourself to not be distracted on how soft they looked.

"A busted lip because of overpriced ingredients...it almost feels like you're doing this on purpose so I wouldn't get the chance to leave you." You half-heartedly joked to lighten up the atmosphere. However, you were greeted by nothing, not even a smart comeback or a funny joke from the blond. You hesitantly observed his reaction, and saw that he was grim and serious, guilt swimming in his beryl blue eyes.

The realization began to sink in.

Oh.

You should've known from the start. Sanji was a great fighter; he wouldn't be injured in the first place. "Sanji..."

Sanji took your wrist and held on it tightly. Your breath hitched, only then realizing how much you missed his touch, his warm, gentle, and loving touch.

"Let me go." You weakly said, even though deep down, you didn't want him to.

"Tell me you're not in love with me." He said, sounding utterly desperate that it almost made you fall down to your knees, "Tell me, and I'll let you go."

When you didn't answer, he stood up and cupped your cheeks with both of his hands. He pleaded, "Look at me. Look into my eyes and tell me you don't love me."

"Please don't do this." You whispered in pain as you tearfully shook your head.

"Stay. Please, stay." Sanji begged, pressing his forehead against yours, "What can I do to make you stay? Tell me. I'll do anything. Do I need to kneel? To beg for your forgiveness? Tell me what you want. I'll do anything in my power to make you the happiest woman in all of East Blue. Just please, don't leave."

"I can't." You answered, closing your eyes, a few tears streaming down your cheeks. You hate the way he was making this so hard for you.

He only continued, "Hate me, curse me, shout at me, if you must. Anything but you leaving me. Or do you want to make me yours? Then I am letting you. Whatever you want, mon ange—my heart, my soul, my attention, they're all yours. I'm all yours."

"No..."

"The crew will be incomplete without you." Sanji insisted in anguish.

"I have dreams, Sanji. Just like you and the rest of the crew." You explained softly, placing your own hands on top of his in attempt to comfort him and relieve him from his confusion.

However, he was persistent, "You can achieve your dreams without leaving. You can stay, and I will support you in everything you do. You're better off staying with me—with us."

You said firmly, "I will not spend the rest of my life doing what I don't want."

"Even with me by your side?"

A few second pass before you finally reply, "I'd be miserable."

Pain flashed on his face, making you want to take back your own words, yet you remained strong and unyielding. Sanji took a deep breath and stepped away from you, saying, "I'd rather have you miserable here than go out there and encounter ruthless pirates."

The statement quickly irritated you, frowning at him deeply. "You think I'll have problems with pirates when I've been serving them for years?"

"Oh, darling, you wouldn't be able to say that once you've encountered worse ones, with bounties higher than you could ever imagine." He snapped, voice raising with each word.

"I can manage on my own!" You bit back frustratingly, your tears evaporating into anger.

Sanji scowled at you, impatiently running his fingers through his hair. "You can't fight!" He shouted, voice breaking in the process, and with it, your heart too. It shattered like glass and the shards landed and pierced through your lungs, rendering you breathless. Your eyes widened, mouth dropping open in shock.

Seeing your expression, he immediately snapped back to reality, regret writing itself on his face. You shook your head in disbelief and let out a humorless laugh, "Are you telling me that I'm weak?"

"I didn't say that." Sanji quickly said in a hushed manner.

"But you're implying it!" You choked, still can't believe that he doesn't trust you. He doesn't trust you enough to accomplish your dreams on your own, and that he was not confident that you'll succeed without him by your side.

You wanted to ask him about the passionate kiss you two shared, about his loving gestures that confused the hell out of you, about his fresh bruises that he received on purpose so that he can get you to stay, and why he did all of that. You needed confirmation. But the question that left you was, "What am I to you?"

Sanji stayed quiet, and your heart broke again once more. Deciding that this was the last time he breaks it, you walked away and left him alone to tend to his own injuries.

He lit up a cigarette as he listened to your fading footsteps. A single teardrop fell down from his eye the moment he placed the cigarette between his lips, and all he could think about was that you hurt more than the bruises on his cheeks.

You packed your bags and spoke with Nami, telling her that you were ready, and that was the fifth time you tried to leave Sanji Vinsmoke—and tomorrow, you'll finally succeed.

⸻ • ⸻

The sun had just risen, and the early morning breeze smelled of the ocean, the calming sound of waves filling your ears. It was one of those days when the sky was clear and the sunlight wasn't harsh but pleasantly warm on your skin, making it the perfect day to start working on a new song and strum on your guitar for the melody.

But today was different. You were standing on the first step of the ship's staircase that leads to a docking station and a wooden walkway towards an unfamiliar island that was soon to be your new home. Your fingers clenched on the strap of your bag, finding this moment to be surreal. You have tried many times to leave, and here it was, right on the palms of your hands.

"So. This is it, huh?" Your trance broke as Nami commented beside you. She was the only one to bid you farewell and watch you leave, since the others were still asleep. You thought of Sanji and how he looked like when he was sleeping, staring at his handsome features so you can memorize them and implant it in your mind. He was your first love; you didn't want to forget him.

You smiled. "Thank you, Nami." You said earnestly, "I would've liked to spend more time with you. It's tiring to speak to men sometimes, don't you think?"

She laughed. "Yeah." Then, she caged you in her arms and hugged you tightly, surprising you for a second before you laughed too and returned the hug. "Stay safe out there."

"I will."

"So you planned to leave? Without saying goodbye?" A new voice interrupted, breaking the hug you and Nami both shared. You swiveled to look behind you, and there stood Sanji, appearing to have just woken up, with the strands of his blond hair sticking up in different directions. You observed his dejected expression, the downward tilt of the corners of his lips, and the glistening of his tired eyes. You stared at his crumpled suit and his crooked necktie. Despite how messy he looked, he will always be perfect to you.

You walked forward and looked at him fondly, with your eyes full of so much love reserved for him and him only. "Thought it would hurt less." You said, raising your hands to touch his hair and brush it down, "And I was right. How can I leave now when you're standing in front of me?"

He sighed shakily as he felt your soft fingers threading through his hair. "Then don't." He whispered. You only smiled at him. He didn't smile back, but that didn't stop you from taking both of his hands and caressing his knuckles using your thumb.

"Every night, I'll look at the moon and think of you. I'll tell my stories, sing my songs, and whisper my secrets to it. Just like what you and me would do when we were little." You told him softly and endearingly, "Would you be so kind as to look at the moon too and think of me?"

Sanji's eyebrows were scrunched together in agony, muttering, "I can't make you stay, can I?"

When you didn't answer, he just nodded his head, understanding what you wanted to stay. He forced a smile and tightly squeezed your hands. "I'm sorry."

"I'm yours." You answered, placing a soft kiss on the back of his hands. After letting your lips linger on his skin for a while, you slowly let go, and with one last glance at his face, you stepped back and made your way downstairs to the docking area, leaving before you could change your mind.

Sanji watched you go. While you walked away from the Going Merry, from the crew, and from him, not once did you look back. He just watched as you went farther away and became smaller in the distance, until you blended in with the crowd and you were just another person in a sea of people. And then you were gone.

It was the sixth time you tried to leave Sanji Vinsmoke, and this time, you finally did.

⸻ • ⸻

The red velvet curtains began to draw in front of you, gently falling back down on the stage as you said your final good-byes to your audience for tonight, a bouquet of roses cradled in your arms while you blew delicate kisses towards them. You can still hear their loud cheering and clapping even as you retreated to your personal room backstage.

A middle-aged woman greeted you inside when you stepped in the room and closed the door behind you, whistling. "There she is, our talented rising star!"

You only laughed at the silly nickname, setting the bouquet of roses that one of the people gave you in tonight's show on top of your vanity table. "You exaggerate, Madam. I have only performed two shows in your beautiful theater."

The madam, who was the owner of the theater you were currently working in, shook her head in disagreement. "And those two shows are sold out!" She informed you proudly, placing her hands on your shoulders, "Let me know if you want to add more, you are welcome to perform here anytime."

"I'll think about it." You replied, smiling. The madam patted your shoulder twice before she left you alone, humming happily to herself. You huffed in amusement, fully aware that she doesn't appreciate your talents at all, but only cared for the money.

Regardless of that, you were happy. It has been a couple of years since you left the Strawhat Pirates and pursued your dreams all on your own, and you've been traveling to different islands across the seas to perform. You never had a permanent home; being a musician meant going to many places from time to time to share and spread out your music.

Yet you can't help but miss life on the sea.

You missed washing dishes on the Baratie and the late night conversations you had with Zeff. You missed Luffy and his weird antics, Usopp and his jokes, Zoro and his blunt comments, and Nami and her kindness.

You missed Sanji and everything that he was.

You stared at your reflection in the vanity mirror on your desk. Your hair was pinned neatly, you had make-up on and you were dressed fancily for your performance. Years ago, you wouldn't look like this. It was hard to believe how much you've grown and changed, but these days, you felt like you wanted your old self back. Slowly, you took the itchy pins off your hair, and cleaned your face with warm water and a cloth. You replaced your dress in a more comfortable one and went outside.

Looking up at the night sky, you saw a bright full moon with no stars in sight. It was just the moon and its beauty, illuminating the pitch black sky with its glow. You silently watched it, a smile growing on your lips as you felt a tug on your heart.

"I wonder what you're up to, Sanji." You thought aloud, cheeks heating up at the memory of your first love and his golden hair and his contagious smiles. Then, to your surprise, a voice spoke unexpectedly.

"Well, I am fortuitous to have met such a beautiful angel."

You froze. No one referred to you as angel except for one.

Sanji.

As you turned around, he was already walking towards you. And there you both were, bathing under the moonlight, with him grinning at you mischievously and you looking at him lovingly.  You didn't know how he found you, but what mattered was that he searched for you and now he was here, and he was still making your heart beat fast in your chest just like all those years ago.

How the pesky feelings stayed and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. But maybe it was because he was standing in front of you, and the way his next words made you run into his open arms and kiss him until you were both breathless,

"There you are, ange."

taglist part 1 @angel-luv3r @appalost @chexmixtrys @nimtano @sparklyphantom @natalieisfreeziing @reallysparklychaos @maydaylovex @johnnysactualgf @mochamei @kisumisumi @ttokyocat @mypurplewinee @rosaliinnn @nonniecannie @court-jester-stuff @detectivelucy07 @megumiif @untitledandrandom @erin-the-king @fangeekkk @nikolaevna-art @candesstuff @chaoticevilbakugo

[fastandcarlos]

The Perfect Ride : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: you can't help but wonder what you were thinking putting heels on, but as the pain nags away at you, luckily you've got lando there to offer his services

Lando struggled to hold back his laughter as he glanced back again, watching as you tentatively walked, holding onto anything around you for support. In theory, wearing heels to dinner at his parents was a great idea, but now you were suffering and walking each step full of regret. 

“Please tell me we’ve not got that much longer to go,” you sighed as Lando walked towards you and closed the distance between you both. “I can’t believe you let me leave the house in heels.” 

Finally a chuckle escaped from Lando, having asked you several times before you left the house whether you were sure you wanted to wear them. You were confident that things would be fine, brushing Lando aside despite how vocal he was with his concerns for you. 

“I told you so,” he shrugged, allowing you to rest your hand against his shoulder to steady yourself. “I was serious when I said you should’ve left the house in your crocs.” 

“Sure, I’m your parents would’ve loved me showing up in my crocs, are you actually insane Lan?” 

With Lando holding onto you, you started walking again, wincing every single time your foot hit the floor. You were keen to make a good impression, having only met Lando’s parents a handful of times, but now you knew that impressing them was not as important as being comfortable. 

Lando’s arm snaked around your waist as he walked at your pace, encouraging you to keep moving, trying his best to distract you from the pain in your feet. 

“Sorry that I’m taking so long,” you told Lando, glancing across and meeting his eyes. “We probably could’ve been home by now if I wasn’t wearing these stupid things. This is ridiculous.” 

Lando offered you a sympathetic smile, “it’s pretty nice weather tonight, I’m quite happy being out here and admiring the beautiful sunset, I don’t mind.” 

“Nice try trying to make me feel a little less guilty.” 

“I’m being serious,” Lando tried his best to assure you, “when was the last time we got to take a slow walk and just soak in our surroundings for a little while?” 

You stopped again, letting go of a deep breath. “It would be nice to be able to do that without feeling like I want to get a saw and chop both of my feet off.” 

Your confession had Lando giggling, as much as he sympathised with how you were feeling, he was struggling to keep himself composed and supportive amongst all of your dramatics.  

Despite how nice you wanted to look, Lando never wanted you to make the effort at a cost. He didn’t want you to feel like you had to suffer just for him, to look good for him, he wouldn’t have cared if you showed up in your pyjamas, just having you there with his family was more than enough for him.  

“We might still be here to see the sunrise too if we carry on like this,” Lando smiled, trying his best to bring a smile back to your face. 

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re starting to enjoy this?” You challenged, narrowing your eyes in Lando’s direction. “I might just bin them and walk bare foot for the rest of the way home instead.” 

Lando’s head shook, picking you up as soon as you bent down to undo the buckle of your shoe. “You can’t do that, it’s not safe baby. I’ve got a different idea that might be able to solve your problem though?” 

You watched as Lando stood in front of you, tapping against his back, inviting you to jump up. “Are you being serious?” You laughed, watching as he looked over his shoulder at you, nodding his head. “You think you can piggyback me home?” 

“I do actually want to get home at some point tonight.” 

Lando tapped his back again, feeling your hands hold onto his shoulders. You counted down before jumping up, wrapping your legs around his waist, feeling his hands go underneath your knees to lift you up and keep you secure as your arms draped in front of Lando’s chest. 

“See,” he smiled, immediately starting to walk with you comfortably resting against him. “It doesn’t even feel like I’m carrying anything on my back you’re so light.” 

“You are such a liar Lando Norris.” 

“I’m serious,” he chuckled, walking at a much quicker pace than he had done whilst you were on your feet too. “All you need to do is relax and enjoy the ride and let me worry about making sure you get home in one piece tonight.” 

Your head nodded as you took a look around the street, figuring out whereabouts you were. “Have I ever told you how much of a hero you are? Always saving the day for me.” 

“That’s just what boyfriends are for, right?” Lando laughed in response. 

Sure, in a relationship you were supposed to be looked after, but Lando always seemed to find a way to go above and beyond. If you were ever stuck, he was always there to help you with the right answer to fix things.  

Your smile was wide as Lando continued walking, it was surprisingly comfortable up on his back, making the most of not having to worry about the ache in your feet for a little while. 

“I hope you know how important you are to receive treatment like this, I don’t offer a piggyback to anyone you know,” Lando smirked, breaking the silence between you both. 

You hummed back at him, finding yourself beginning to get sleepy. Lando could feel your head beginning to weigh down on top of his own, hearing your breaths get a little heavier as you struggled to keep your eyes open. A smile crept onto Lando’s face, relieved to feel and hear how comfortable you were. 

“Don’t be falling asleep on me up there,” he teased, “I can’t walk the rest of the way home talking to myself, people will think I’m weird if they hear that.” 

“I’m awake, I promise,” you assured him, fighting the urge to close your eyes, trying your best to focus on something to stay awake. 

Lando glanced up questionably back at you, knowing it was only a matter of time before he would hear you falling asleep, knowing when he got home it would be his job to get you tucked into bed and try not to wake you up.  

“Are we almost home?” You asked Lando, not quite sure how much longer you could hold on for, feeling sleep getting closer with every second that passed. 

“Don’t worry about that, close your eyes if you want to love,” Lando smiled, “I don’t mind if you do, I’ll just sing to myself for the rest of the way home. 

You nodded in reply to Lando, “thank you for always being there for me and helping me, I really do appreciate it Lando.” 

“I know you do,” Lando whispered, “but you never have to thank me, I love being the one that gets to take care of you.” 

“And you do such a good job of it too.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[raccoon-in-the-danger-room]

Thinking about how Wade got his powers from Logan and, now that they're roomies, that Wade might let it slip out one day.

---

They're arguing in the kitchen over something stupid. Logan is slowly getting more aggressive with chopping the onions while Wade is up on the counter top, kicking his feet while waiting for whatever is in the oven to be ready.

"You know you should really get less mad at me, peanut. If you're nice to me, you're nice to yourself!"

"I'm not Catholic, so don't try to guilt me like one, and don't you dare play any bullshit pranks on me today or I'll give you two additional assholes."

"Well, that's more holes to stuff me with, so I don't see a problem with that." And before Logan can go claws out and make good on his promise, Wade uses one of his many signature moves: the 'Talk Real Fast and Confuse Them Before They Can Hurt You' special.

"WHOA THERE THINK OF THE BABY!" He screams while grabbing a ladle to jam between the claws and up against Logan's knuckles, keeping him a distance away. "I got a little bit of you inside me! Also, Jesus, we're not making pasta tonight, so I don't want any blood over the food. I won't be able to pass it off as red sauce to Al."

"She's blind."

"But she can taste color."

He groans, and instead of responding to the latter joke, he focuses back on the first. "What's this horseshit about a baby?" He sighs as the timer goes off, and he sheathes his claws to put oven mits on and take the veggies out of the oven.

"I'm just saying some doctors injected me with your DNA!! Not unlike good ol' artifical insemination -- except into my blood stream! Sooooooo, instead of a baby, I got healing factor. Ergo," he said as he booped Logan's nose on a the last word, "if you're nice to me, you're nice to you."

And what Wade thinks is funny banter, quickly turns into a sobering conversation as Logan puts the tray on the counter, not saying a word. Before hissing out -- "...What?"

You can see behind his eyes so many gears turning in his head, and he's not looking at Wade in disgust, confusion, or pity. He's looking at him in guilt, which is not what Wade wanted or expected.

---

So yeah it's all teehee chuckle fucks until Logan kinda has a melt down about learning that the freaks who experimented on him used his DNA to hurt others too. That's the hurt, and the comfort is Wade just thanking Logan over and over again that he saved his life. He's physically alive because of him, and he feels alive because of him and the stupid domestic life they've made together.

[jyoongim]

~Blood & BLISS~

Human!Alastor x wife!Reader

Themes: 1930 based! Human!Alastor x wife!Reader, domestic life! fluff, smut, devotion, slight manipulation, mention of children, pregnancy,  blood, murder, secrets 

chapter two

Synopsis: Marrying New Orleans famous radio host had been a shocker to everyone. You, a southern belle from an esteemed family, had somehow managed to catch the attention of the mysterious bachelor. 

Your wedding was all in the papers and talk of the town, even though the ceremony was rather private.

You quickly settled in as the homemaker as Alastor brought home the dough and took care of you. 

It was a dream come true.

But Alastor was strange, even to you and you were his wife, but you brushed it off as him just being a man.  You had nothing to complain about. You lived in a nice big house, had the finest luxuries, and Alastor would dote on you. What wasn’t to love?

Well… all those things were nice, but you were starting to crave a family with your husband.

You knew of Alastor’s upbringing and had an inkling that children might not be an option…but Alastor wouldn’t deny you what you desired most would he? Of course not ma belle.

Alastor prided himself on how people often wondered about him. The renowned radio host, who the public rarely saw. He was a mystery to many. He frequented jazz lounges and often could be found drinking whiskey as he listened to the Mimzy gossip about the latest news.

He,  himself was shocked when he met you, the prettiest thing in the city. He had to have you. He knew you were the one.

Like the gentleman he was, he sent you flowers and love letters to begin courting you. He never tired of how shy you were around him. 

It wasn’t long before he asked your father for your hand and the two of you got hitched.

And what a wedding it was! he spared no expense to your disapproval.

Alastor was the epitome of what every husband inspired to be! 

Doting, providing, and attentive.

But he had a secret he kept from his little wife…

Can he maintain control over his domestic affairs and his sinister ones?

Soft jazz played in the background as you busied around the kitchen preparing dinner. The sizzling of the oil carried the scent of fried chicken as you chopped collards and added them to another pan to fry.

You hummed along to whatever song was playing as you cooked.

You took the chicken out of the grease, poured some of it in a can for later and used the rest to make cornbread. You stirred the collards a bit, adding pepper and a little salt before turning the stove off. You glanced at the clock; 6pm, Alastor should be coming home soon.

After putting everything in pretty dishes and wrapping it in foil you sighed tiredly as you finally got off your feet, plopping down on a couch.

You almost wanted to go back into the kitchen and clean up, but thought to just wait after dinner to do so. 

You perked as your radio made a noise, static as if the channel had changed, before the voice of your husband came through.

”Well folks that is all. I have for you tonight! I hope you enjoyed today’s broadcast and I will see you tomorrow. I wouldn’t want to be late for dinner nonono haha. Until next time!”

You smiled, feeling happy he wasn’t going to stay at the studio all night.

With that in mind, you quickly ran upstairs to freshen up, wanting to greet your husband without the smell of grease clinging to you.

“I’m home!” A voice called as the sound of the front door closing had you rushing downstairs.

Alastor was taking off his coat, when you greeted him “Oh let me take that” you smiled, grabbing his coat to put it away. He let out a relieved sigh as he removed his shoes and put them by the door. Once comfortable, his long arms were around your waist, pulling you into a kiss “And how was my beautiful wife today hmm?” He asked bringing a dainty hand to his lips. You giggled “Oh nothing worth mentioning. How was work today? I heard you signing off. I hate that I missed tonight’s broadcast” you mused, untying his bow tie. Alastor hummed “oh you know same ole same ole, through I will say I got a lot of fan mail today” he chuckled as you rolled your eyes. He took a whiff of the air and grinned “Hmm looks like I actually made it in time for dinner”

You both made your way to the kitchen and you immediately went to fix his plate, while he got glasses out of the cabinet and some red wine.

Alastor practically had drool coming out of his mouth as the smell of food wafted into his nose. You took a seat across from him and smiled. “My my my dear what a meal youve prepared tonight!” He commented as he took a bite out of the cornbread, moaning in delight.

It always filled your heart with happiness seeing Alastor eat your food. When you first got married, you didn’t have a clue on how to cook. It was rather embarrassing, but you had grown up with personal cooks.

But Alastor didn’t mind teaching you, and soon enough you were whipping up delicious meals that filled his stomach, rather than upset it.

Dinner was quiet as the two of you enjoyed each others company, Alastor making comments about the lastest gossip he had heard and you catching him on the neighborhood gossip. “Oh before I forget,  Mimzy wants to know if you wanted to swing by the lounge this weekend. Something about I keep you to myself too much” Alastor laughed, swiping at his mouth. You laughed, that sounded like Mimzy. Always hoping to get a chance at you singing on stage so she could make a few extra bucks. “Well tell ‘er not this weekend, I have plans to host a few of the ladies for book club. Rosie is sure to have some gossip I’ve missed.” 

Alastor quirked a brow “You sure dear? I fear Mimzy will chew me a new one if she don’t get to see ou” You mulled it over “Well book club usually don’t take that long and its during tea time so I guess I don’t mind gracing the lounge with my presence” you giggled, getting up and taking your empty dishes to the sink. Alastor followed you and quickly swatted your hands as you reached to turn the sink on. 

“Now now my dear, you spent all evening cooking the least I can do is wash the dishes. The chef shouldn’t cook and clean” he nudged you away from the sink as you pouted.

It never ceased to amazed you that Alastor took on household chores. Most husbands had their wives cook and clean, but not your Alastor.

He didn’t like you to tire out from maintaining the home all day.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek in thanks and told him you’ll be upstairs getting ready for bed.

You had just finished rolling your hair when Alastor came up to your bedroom. You sighed as you sunk into the cool cotton sheets, finally relaxing for the day. You didn’t realized you had quickly fell asleep until feeling Alastor slide into bed beside you, arm pulling you to tuck you into his side and rest your head on his chest.

You happily cuddled into him, breathing in his scent as the sound of his heartbeat lulled you back to sleep.

A yawn passed your lips as began to fall asleep

”Goodnight” 

”Sleep tight dear”

”Don’t let the bedbugs bite”

”haha see you in the morning light love” he whispered pressing a kiss to your forehead as you sighed, chest heaving in deep breaths.

Alastor smiled at your sleeping face; how lucky was he to have a sweet wife who worked so hard while he was gone. His eyes grew heavy as he listened to your soft snores.

What bliss. He wouldn’t give this up for anything in the world.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

NOTE: aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh why and how did my mind conjure this when I have other things to write eeeeeeehhhh!!!!!!!

Anyway….this is gonna be ANOTHER short story hehehe. Since I wrote it on a whim it might take some time for me to post the next part but I hope y’all enjoy it nevertheless!

Remember to comment on the pinned post as I have a hard time finding everyone to tag since y’all are scattered on different posts!

if i missed anyone my bad!!!!

@nightshadelm @th3-st4r-gur1 @amurtan @lunaramune @southern-bayou-beau @monstersealclubber @certifiedcrybabyyy @karolinda007-blog @theveiledlibrarian @simphornies @yourdoorisunlocked @nettaw @purplecatsandhearts @catherine1206 @jellibean2018 @thewinchestah @wonderlandangelsposts @alishii @readergirlstuff @whydohumansss @missgurlsstuff @yuzurixx @darkovergrownforestnymph @dasimp777 @markster666 @alastorsgirl48 @alastor-simp @alastorsaries @preciousbabypeter @alastwhore666 @strawberrypimp666 @stawberrypimpsimp @queenariesofnarnia @peachedtvs @peachedtv @tpks @siiv3r @hazelfoureyes @okay-babe @aconfusedworld @chewbrry @altruisticalastor @yunimimii @dievia3 @alastorsdear @alastorsdarlingdoe @t0byisher3 @dennsfz @twismare @nanami1chu @yoongibabs @menthatilove @smoky000

[nanivinsmoke]

❥ Make U Love Me

logan ‘wolverine’ howlett x mutantfem!reader

♪ you’re tired of going places where you can’t scream and shout ♪

tags: featuring the biggest asshole, scott! cheating, a little angst, violence, mentions of blood and death, slight exhibitionism, kissing, edging, dom logan, sub reader, creampie, pregnancy, oral, multiple orgasms, falling in love, etc…

note: heavily inspired by robin thicke’s song with the same title. wc: 4.7k — put my heart into this.

you were scott’s girl. nothing more, nothing less.

it wasn’t what you thought it would be, well back then at least.

scott was loving when you two first started dating. he would take you out, treat you like a queen, and was very attentive. but, that all started to change when his first love died in the midst of battle. jean grey.

the day she died, is the day your relationship did too. that same guy you fell in love with, turned into the guy you hated. everything stopped. he was no longer the perfect boyfriend, he was more of a royal asshole.

he wouldn’t make love to you, he wouldn’t put you on missions with him and when you confronted him about the change—it would always end in a fight. you didn’t deserve this, you knew you didn’t. but, you couldn’t break up with him. that small piece of your heart wouldn’t allow you.

you knew there was a part of him that still loved you. well, you thought he did. that all changed when you and the crew got the news. jean was alive.

“i don’t want you going after her, scott! what’s so hard to understand about that?” you raised your voice, brushing past your boyfriend and putting the onions you just chopped into the hot skillet—continuing your recipe for tonight’s dinner.

when the professor told everyone that she was alive, scott’s ears perked up and practically begged the professor to let him be the one to go and find her. charles urged scott that it wasn’t a good idea. something could go wrong and she might no longer be the jean we all knew….she could be possessed by an evil force. the dark phoenix.

but, of course scott wasn’t trying to hear that. his mind was clouded with thoughts of the red head. he was still deeply in love with jean. just the thought of her had him going crazy. you knew it and it pissed you off, which brought upon the current argument you two were having now.

“what i don’t understand is why not? she’s one of us! i have to bring her back, with or without your permission!” you turned to him, eyes slowly turning into a deep red; the flames from the stove started to rise—searing the vegetables that sat in the iron pan.

scott started to slowly back up, swallowing thickly as you inched closer to him; afraid of what you might do next. he locked his visor onto the burning food, which he tried to pull your attention on to, but you didn’t budge. that is until you heard someone clearing their throat.

your eyes went back to its normal state and you calmed down once you took a look at logan, who stood there watching the whole ordeal. you looked back at the food and turned the stove off before looking back your boyfriend, “come back with her and see what happens, scott.”

———

you didn’t come out of your bedroom for dinner that night and neither did he. hell, you barely got any sleep last night—too busy tossing and turning in your bed, thinking about scott and jean together. and when you finally did get some sleep, the sun started to peak over the horizon—a beautiful hue of orange painting the sky.

when you finally woke up, you pulled yourself into a much needed hot shower, before putting on your favorite pair of flare jeans and a cute top paired with some leather boots—heading downstairs to see what was happening for today. the children passed by, running and walking to hangout after class, while you made your way down the wooden stairs—looking for your boyfriend.

you wanted to talk to him about yesterday, hopefully to make peace with what transpired—but it seems like he had other plans when you spotted him holding hands & walking with the newly resurrected jean. and to top it all off, he was wearing a big toothy smile like he was kid in a candy store. oh you were pissed.

they disappeared further into the mansion as you stormed downstairs—eyes darkening while you were hot on their tails, ready to confront them; that is until you were trapped between two big muscle bound arms. “let me go logan!” you tried to free yourself from his grasp, but there was no use. he wasn’t letting you go.

“need you to cool off. don’t need you to go all ‘flame on!’ on them today.” he chuckled and ushered you towards the front door, both of you going towards the academy’s garage and pulling off in his car.

you tossed back your shot of vodka, grimacing at the strong burning sensation, before tapping your glass for more. logan had took you to a bar, so you could drink to your hearts content and stop that flame from igniting within you.

“he’s a fucking asshole.” you spoke, downing your drink again then turning to look at the male sitting right next to you. he nodded in agreement and sipped on his whiskey, letting you vent to him.

“I feel like such an idiot, falling in love with someone who doesn’t love me.”

“his fault he couldn’t see what right in front of him.” you passed, wide eyed, looking at the side of his rugged face while he finished off his drink. what did he mean by that?

“pretty lil thing like you deserves to be treated like a princess, not by someone like him.” his compliment made you press your thighs together and shift in your seat.

“and who’s gonna treat me like one?” you hummed, placing your hand on his arm, pressing against him. it might been the liquid courage that had you feeling so bold, but you knew exactly what you were doing.

logan grunted and smirked, shaking his head before his pretty hazel eyes locked on yours, “careful, doll. don’t know what you might be getting yourself into.”

“maybe i do~” you flirted back, lips ghosting his ears, making goosebumps rise on his skin. you wanted him badly right now. you didn’t care that the two of you were out in a bar, it made no difference. you wanted to take him right here and now.

“let’s play some pool.” he got up from his seat and grabbed your hand, making you sigh in response. maybe you were getting ahead of yourself?

———

the two of you played pool for the next couple of hours. logan was surprised to see that you were really good at the game, even more shocked that you had him on a losing streak. “good thing you didn’t put money on it.” you teased, striking the 8ball into one of the holes, winning your fifth game for the night.

“would ask you to play another game, but it’s time we get back to the mansion. bar’s bout to close.” he pointed out and you took a look around, seeing only four patrons left and the bartenders cleaning their glasses. you pouted and racked the balls back into the middle of the table, before grabbing logan’s hands and leaving the bar.

the two of you stood outside of the car for a bit, logan puffing on his cigar while you enjoyed the night’s cool breeze—mind running rampant with what happened in the bar between you and him.

“lo—“ you began, making him turn his attention towards you—the sight of him blowing out smoke did something to you; everything about the male aroused you. why didn’t you see him like this before? maybe you would’ve been happier with him.

“can i kiss you?” you breathed out, stepping closer to him; body heat overpowering the crisp air outside. “doll….” he began, but you stopped him—not ready for him to reject your feelings just yet.

“I know you felt something in there with me. if i felt it, i know you did. so, kiss me. prove me wrong….” you pulled him by his flannel, eyes sparkling with hope and desire; as they flickered to his lips. he searched your face, before he flicked his cigar on the ground and pulled you in close—his lips melting on yours.

you wrapped your arms around his neck while his hands moved to the middle of your back, before falling to your ass—squeezing the plump flesh through your jeans. as much as he wanted to pull back, he didn’t—you were so addictive, he just had have all of you.

his tongue slipped into your mouth and he picked you up and placed you on the hood of the car—kiss becoming passionate by the moment. the taste of the cigar he just smoked and traces of his whiskey had your mind spinning, and your cunt throbbing. “logannn~”

“i know, princess. smelled how bad you wanted it inside of the bar.” he grunted and his thick fingers quickly unfastened your jean’s button, tugging them down slightly—before he slipped his hand into your pants, rubbing your throbbing clit through your yellow panties.

“shit you’re soaked. he’s never made you feel like this, right?” he grunted in your ear, pulling your panties to the side and finally connecting the tips of his fingers to your aching clit, rubbing it slowly.

“no never, he never made me wet like this—fuck—only you lo~” the sweet moan you let out drove him insane, it fueled him and he couldn’t help but to quicken his pace; making your back arch off the hood of the car. gasping, you reached down to hold onto his wrist, trying to stop his pleasurable torment—but it did nothing. he kept going, making you buck your hips up into his palm.

“so needy. summers is such an idiot for letting this go.” logan moves his fingers down to your sodden hole, palm pressing right down onto your clit, making your body jolt in response. despite the tight confinement of your pants, his hand was able to work wonders on your lower half—pumping in and out of your cunt.

you gushed over his fingers each time it hit your spot. the pressure that was building up in the pit of your tummy was becoming unbearable. you desperately needed to let go, show him how good he made you feel.

“gonna cum—all over your fingers!” you warned, eyes starting to roll back into your head as you felt that feeling you loved so much start to burst. that is, until he pulled his fingers away. your eyes shot opened and you watched him suck your juices off of his digits.

“gotta get you home, doll” he fastened your pants and helped you off the hood of the car; before going to the passenger side, opening the door for you. shooting daggers at him as you stomped your way to the car, you watched as he hopped in the driver seat—ignoring your stares.

you didn’t bother opening your mouth to speak either. too frustrated, tired and horny to talk. so, you opted to lay your head against the window and watched as the trees became blurred on the way back to the mansion.

as logan pulled the car up the school’s drive, you could see the resurrected red head and scott standing outside—their lips glued on one another. you shared a look with logan and shook your head. you didn’t have the energy anymore, it was obvious where his heart lied.

getting out of the car, the two pulled back once they noticed the both of you approaching—scott looking like he had seen a ghost. “baby! i-i—“

“go to hell scott” brushing past them, you slowly made your way to your room—logan a few feet behind. logan looked at scott and just shook his head. idiot.

he just planted you right into his hands, and boy was he going to keep you there.

———

the following weeks started to get better and better for you. getting closer to logan was the best thing to ever happen to you. the two of you would spend almost everyday together, most of the days ended with you finally getting to cum around his fingers and all over his face. you were happier, almost like you were in the beginning before scott ruined it. and he noticed it to.

but, you didn’t care what he thought about what you were doing. he ruined his chances of being happy with you ever again and he knew it.

currently you and logan were in an empty class room, with him between your plush thighs; working a third orgasm out of you for today. small hands were tangled in his soft brown locs—tugging them as you grinded your orgasm out on his face. logan pulled away once you calmed down, his beard and half of his face being covered in your slick—which he happily licked up; well what he could.

he helped you off the table and pulled your skirt up while peeling your cold wet panties off. “these? are for me,” you blushed, watching him put them in his pocket before pulling you close. his hands fell to your rear and those eyes that you loved to get lost in, stared right at you; before he pressed his lips against yours.

you melted in the kiss. your body relaxing as the two of you moved in sync, hands moving across each other’s bodies. ever since that day at the bar, you noticed a change in yourself. a change you slowly welcomed. love. you were falling deeply in love with the wolverine. it was different type of love you and scott had. this one felt like one of those love’s where you could see the two of you grow old and have a bunch of mutant babies.

you wanted to tell him how you felt, how he made you feel, but you were scared. scared that he might reject you. so, you opted for the latter. being his friend with benefits.

“logan, I wanna suck your dick~” you pulled back, eyes traveling down to his noticeable bulge, then back up at him.

“don’t wanna hurt you princess. plus ive got a class in fifteen minutes,” he warned and you smirked, slowly sinking down to your knees. “so? ill make you cum in ten~”.

the clinking sound of his belt being dropped to floor, along with his pants, filled the room. he watched with low eyes as you pulled his fully erect length out—cock twitching when he heard you gasp. you now understood why he never fucked you, he was way too big. there was no way your walls would survive that, right?

your mouth salivated at the sight and you couldn’t slowly feel yourself becoming even more aroused. gripping his cock and swiping your tongue over the tip, you moaned at the taste of his sweet precum, before you took him into your mouth. he tossed his head back, loving the feeling of your warm wet mouth around him, while you slowly started to take him even deeper.

his big hands practically flew to the back of your head when he felt you gag around him, once he hit the back of your mouth, slowly creeping into your throat.

“did you just cum? hm, princess?” he locked eyes with you, smelling the familiar scent of your arousal—knowing exactly how you smelled when you came.

you whimpered, still slobbering all over his cock before the grip on your head got tighter and he pressed your pretty little head down harder; nose nuzzled in his bush of brown hairs.

you gagged, but he didn’t give you time to adjust as he continued to repeat his actions—pulling you off of his cock by your hair before forcing you right back on; fucking your mouth to his liking. the more he moved the more arousing it became for the both of you, causing you to relax your throat, letting him fill it with his thick cock.

the sound of you gagging and sucking on his cock along with the smell of your cunt dripping with excitement, had the six foot two man going feral. his pretty eyes fluttered in the back of his head and he forcefully pushed your head deep in his bush— letting out one of the sexiest growls you ever heard as he poured thick ropes of cum down your throat.

the warm sensation had you dripping right onto the classroom’s wooden floors, moaning at his taste before you swallowed. his grip loosened and you pulled back, gasping for air.

“told ya i could make you cum~”

———

finding yourself back into your room, you were scared by the dark figure sitting on your bed; making you jump out of your clothes like a cartoon character. flickering on the light, scott sat on your bed wearing a plain look on his face.

“the hell you doing in my room, scott?” you kicked off your shoes, glaring at the brunette. he adjusted his visor before getting up, towering over you a bit.

“you and logan been really close lately. what’s up with that?” you stared at him before giggling. he wasn’t possibly serious? you ignored him and tried to move around him, only for him to grab you and pull you back.

“grab me again and that’ll be the last thing you’ll ever do. get out of my room and go be with jean. me and you are finished.” you stared into his ruby red colored visor, making sure he got the point. the mutant scoffed and shook his head, “fine. go be a whore for logan, sure he’d love that.”

you didn’t even give him time to react before sending a fire induced smack to his face, causing him to yell out from the painful sensation. he was quick to recover, ready to aim his optic lasers at you; until a fist came flying at him—knocking him to the ground. logan stood there for a minute, taking a look at you to make sure you were alright, before pouncing on scott.

you watched as logan nearly beat him bloody before stepping in, tugging on his black button up—begging him to stop. however, the raspy voice of the professor entered all of your minds, stopping everyone’s movements.

‘the dark phoenix has risen and attacked me. jean grey is no longer with us. teachers, meet me in the infirmary’

logan looked at you and grabbed scott, slinking him around his shoulders, “go meet me in the infirmary. im gonna take him to his room and have hank look after him.” you nodded and practically raced to the infirmary, meeting the rest of the x-men. they surround xavier’s comatose body, talking amongst each other about what was going on, until ororo started speaking.

“the professor was attacked a few minutes ago by the x-men we once knew as jean grey. however, the friend we knew and once loved is now gone and is being possessed by a dark entity. this being is catastrophic and we must stop it before it’s too late—” she paused and took a look at her fellow mutants, before raising an eyebrow.

“where’s scott?”

“he’s out of commission for a while. ill catch him up later.” logan’s arm snaked around you waist, appearing behind you and answering her question. she nodded and continued with the details of the mission, before listing out names of those who would be on it.

you and logan were the main frontmen for this mission. storm had converged a plan on how it should go down, along with a plan b; warning you guys that there’s a slight chance it might end bad. she put her faith in you and the team, before dismissing everyone. the mission would take place tomorrow.

———

sitting on logan’s surprisingly soft bed, you relaxed while he was in the shower. your mind was running rampant about what could possibly happen tomorrow. being that this could possibly be the end, frightened you, especially since you haven’t told him how you felt.

“logan?” you called out, listening to the calming sound of the shower running.

“yeah?” he responded and you got up from his bed and stripped out of your clothes, joining him in the shower. the sight of his nude, wet body was breathtaking. so very breathtaking, that you couldn’t help but break down and cry—sobbing as the warm water painted your face.

those thick eyebrows raised and he immediately pulled you close, rubbing circled on your back; along with rubbing your head. “hey, talk to me. won’t be able to understand you when you’re crying like this, princess.”

you nodded in his hairy chest before pulling back, sniffling. this was the time to let it all out, let him know how you feel.

“i love you. i love you so fucking bad, logan. you’re all i think about. i think about us getting married and having a litter or two of kids…” he laughed at and kissed your temple, before urging you to continue.

“you’ve been there for me for a while now. you uplifted me and showed me what true love is. and it pains me to know that there’s a possibility that tomorrow could take this away from me.” more tears poured out of your eyes and he cupped your face, kissing away your tears.

logan honestly felt the same. he fell in love with you the moment you joined the x-men. even when you got with scott, he still loved you. he just knew it was fate that the two of you were meant to be. he moved his lips down to your soft plump ones, making you melt on the spot.

the kiss the two of you shared held such passion, that you wished you could stay like this forever.

“i love you too, princess. but, you will tell me this tomorrow; when we win.” he kissed from your lips down to your neck before stopping at the middle of your chest—kissing one of your mounds and holding the other; earning a moan from you.

“in the meantime, how about we get started on that litter?” you giggled and nodded your head, before your back was against the wall with his cock in between your legs—warming up from your heat, while he pinched one of your perky nipples and sucked on the other.

slick started to pool and drip onto his cock as he continued to tease your sensitive breasts, fueling your arousal. “please, baby….don’t tease me—wan’ you inside of me~”

he pulled away from your nipple with a ‘pop’ echoing after, still teasing the other one with his rough hands, a smirk painted on his rugged face. “you sure you’re ready for that, doll?” he asked and you nodded profusely. lifting up your leg, he rubbed himself on your slick coated slit, using your essence as lubricant and then pushed himself into your tightness.

he threw his head back from how you felt, and your walls clung to him; clenching and unclenching around him. the pressure he was putting on your clit, had you cumming prematurely. he smirked and pulled himself out, making you whimper; already missing how he filled you up—even though it was just the tip.

he repeated that process, pushing his cock in and pulling you out, earning more lewd noises from you and your pretty pussy. “logannn, please fuck me already!” he grunted in response and slammed himself inside—filling you to the brim with his cock. you squealed from the pleasurably painful sensation that coursed through you, kissing him to distract you from the pain.

the grip on your leg tightened as he started to pound your sweet little pussy, walls stretching past its normals limits. the more he fucked you, the more your cunt became molded to the shape of his cock. it was evident that you were made for him.

by now, the water had gotten cold and he continued to rut inside of you—cunt coating his cock with your creamy white fluids. he was drowning in your sweet fluids and he didn't need a floatie—he had reached nirvana.

in one swift motion, the shower was off and you were in his arms—legs wrapped around his waist while he was still inside; carrying you out of the shower & over to the bathroom sink. he pulled out momentarily as he placed you on your feet and turned you around, your fat ass facing him; while he plunged right back inside of your middle.

pushing your arch down, placing his hands on your hips—he reached deeper than before, causing you to scream. “dick too big for you baby?” you nodded and he chuckled, grinding himself against you until he started to pound you silly.

you tried to open your mouth to speak, to warn him that you were going to cum, but your mind was too fucked out to process anything; so you let out a sweet moan. “go ahead and cum for me princess. could feel her twitching around me.”

it was amazing how he knew your body so well already and it didn’t take long for you to heed his words, cumming hard on his dick while he continued to make your cunt his. the tightness of your walls squeezing him, broke him and he couldn’t help but to cum buckets inside of you—filling your tummy up with his kids.

the two of you panted, bodies shaking as your orgasms came over you—your head being pulled back so he could press a kiss to your lips.

“i love you, princess.”

———

blood covered the blue and yellow suits the team wore as the dark phoenix made paint out of their blood. the fight wasn’t going so good. some of you were gravely injured, possibly on the brink of death, while some of you tried to catch your breaths; still able to fight.

you looked over at a bleeding logan, worried about the wounds he had received, catching his eyes. “don’t worry, it’ll heal.”

he charged towards the being, claws fully unsheathed, with you and few others following suit; only to be tossed away like peons. you laid there in pain, ready to accept defeat, until you heard the crunching of the dirt nearby. turning your head you were shocked to see scott, staring down the possessed body of his old lover.

scott turned to look at you and logan, and smiled before inching closer toward them. your eyes shot open, you knew exactly what he was going to do. “scott! wait,—“ but it was already too late.

with the help of colossus, the leader of the x-men was tossed over to jean—grabbing onto her before a red flash of light blinded you all. once it cleared, the two were gone. the only thing that stood where they once were, was scott’s yellow & red custom visor.

you sat there in disbelief. you never expected this to happen. yeah, you his guts, but you never expected him to sacrifice himself. better yet, die.

“c’mon doll, let’s go home~” logan’s raspy voice pulled you out of your thoughts, holding out his hand which you gladly accepted. you turned around, looking at where he was one last time, before turning around heading back to the jet.

——

5 months later.

“and here lies the visor that was once used by our leader and hero of the x-men, cyclops. he will be missed.” logan spoke to the new students joining the academy—giving them a tour, stopping at scott’s memorial.

“logan~” your voice called out to him, making him turn his attention over to you—his beautiful pregnant wife. “alright kids, gonna turn this over to our new teacher; ms. frost,” the blonde stepped up with a smile and took over while your husband jogged over to you—kissing your growing belly before moving up to your lips.

“we’re gonna be late! this is the appointment where we get to see the baby’s gender!”

it might’ve started off rough, but you were finally happy and in love.

[beatrixstonehill2]

"I'm ready for my injections," Holly told her boyfriend, Ryan.

"Good, you're becoming so obedient. I told you you'd come around eventually. You almost look eager."

Holly blushed, feeling the weight of her breasts hanging off her chest, already about twenty-five pounds each. Fifty whole pounds of pure breast. It felt absurd to her, so wrong, and yet inescapable. It was her new reality. "I'm excited to see them grow for you....."

"That's a good girl," he said, inserting IV needles into her breasts at various points.

Holly winced as her boyfriend injected her breasts with over a gallon of saline each. She remembered when she first met Ryan barely a year ago. He was so charming, they met at the gym and were both very passionate about being fit and healthy. She worked as a gymnastics instructor. Now she couldn't imagine trying to work her old job. The mothers would be horrified at such a huge-breasted cow of a woman trying to teach their daughters.

Soon into their relationship, Ryan mentioned having a big tit fetish. She thought nothing of it, what guy doesn't? Before long, she noticed her breasts were getting bigger and started lactating. He fessed up that he was drugging her water bottles, and apologized, but said he wanted her EE-Cup breasts much bigger. She was angry but as her girlfriend was still excited to please him and get bigger for him, despite not wanting large breasts.

Her breasts got bigger and bigger, impeding her ability to do gymnastics. Women began recommending she get a reduction or chop them off outright. Holly had to reluctantly admit her boyfriend was making her grow them out like this. His fetish consumed her life, made her lose her job, getting so bad she found herself becoming a living embodiment of his kinks. No longer Holly at all, just an object he acted on and molded into his perfect toy.

She gasped as the gallons of saline flooded her breasts, his new favorite means of torturing her. When they were done, her breasts ballooned to double their size, red and swollen, round and very taut like fake tits. He took out the needles and placed heart-shaped bandages over them to help keep her tits from springing leaks. This new way of increasing her breast size would ensure once the saline is absorbed her breasts would stretch, getting saggier, longer, emptier. Instead of being beautiful and full from the breast growth drugs, like a woman who's pumped out a dozen or so kids, her breasts would switch between extremely saggy, floppy and empty, and enormously round and heavy, filled to the point of popping with saline, heavy as two water coolers strapped to her chest.

Holly winced as Ryan tightened her leather straps and added the rest of her corrective harness, which looked a bit like bdsm gear, to help keep her back upright, pushing out her giant saline-filled boulder tits. Ryan smiled, smacking Holly's breasts, which made her recoil in pain. "It feels incredible when I hit them, doesn't it?"

Holly nodded, barely able to catch her breath. "Y-Yes.... Smack them all you want. They're yours."

"Good girl, but they're about to be all of Lower Manhattan's. I want you bringing in lots of money tonight, OK? Smile a lot, eagerly service any man, even the homeless ones or violent looking ones. I can't have you saying no to any clients. Don't worry, I'm taking my anti-STD pills every day so I won't contract all the bugs you're collecting. Oh, and if you don't mind, I want you whoring on the corner by your old dance studio, hopefully some of the moms and other women you worked with might get to see your new occupation. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Holly was blushing beat red. "B-But....."

"None of that. You don't have 'no' in your vocabulary. Now off you go!" he said, smacking one of her breasts again.

"OK.... I won't disappoint you."

"Good, otherwise I might have to paddle all that saline out of your tits when you get home"

Holly yelped as he spanked her, sending her out wearing only her harness and nothing else, to go enjoy her new occupation as a whore with giant saline-filled breasts. Which she slowly started to feel was exactly who she was always meant to be.

[moonstruckme]

hi lovely I hope you’re feeling better!!!! I was wondering if I could request something with poly!marauders where she’s like simmering with anxiety and isn’t having a panic attack but is sort of close bc she’s just really overwhelmed and the boys notice and try to calm her down and are just sweet <3

Thank you for requesting sweetheart!

cw: signs of anxiety

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You appear caught in a state of restlessness. You’re meant to be reading, but Remus hasn’t seen you turn a page in ages. Your eyes keep unfocusing, your knee bouncing underneath your blanket and your fingers toying absentmindedly with the corner of your page. 

Remus supposes your boyfriends haven’t done much to create a relaxing atmosphere in your home tonight. Earlier he’d let Sirius keep an eye on the stove while he minced garlic, and of course that had ended with you and James rushing to open every window near the kitchen to get the smoke alarm to turn off, and even once he’d traded Sirius’ help for James’ there’d been several near-misses with the kitchen knives and his reckless chopping. It also doesn’t help that James and Sirius are in one of their moods where listening to them talk is like watching a tennis match. Trying to keep up could give you whiplash, but luckily you don’t seem to be paying attention as they bicker about whether rugby or cricket is the rougher sport (Sirius is only trying to rile James; James clearly knows this, but he persists nonetheless). Still, it can’t make for nice background noise. 

Remus corners the page of his own book and reaches across the space between you, taking your hand. You look up with a smile, pleasantly surprised. 

“Alright, lovely?” he asks, fingers dancing up the length of your palm to your wrist. 

“I’m good,” you reply softly. “How’s your book?” 

“It’s off to a slow start,” Remus admits, “but I’m hoping it’ll pick up soon. How’s yours?” 

You look down at the book in your lap. He almost wonders if you’d forgotten it was there. “It’s not bad.” 

“Yeah?” He lets his fingers rest over the bump of your pulse, trying not to frown at its quick beat. “You haven’t seemed to be reading much.” 

By now your conversation has caught the attention of the other boys, James turning towards you and Sirius tilting his head to see around him. 

“Oh,” James says sympathetically, “is it not very good?” 

“No, it’s fine.” You look back down at your book, a bit sheepish. “I guess I’m just a little distracted.” 

Remus hums knowingly, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. James’ brow furrows, but Sirius, true to form, asks outright, “Is something the matter?” 

You shake your head, seeming a bit perplexed yourself. “No,” you say, “I don’t know what my problem is.” 

“You seem a bit strung up,” Remus suggests gently. 

“Yeah, but” —you shrug, lips curving halfheartedly— “not for any good reason.” 

James makes a woeful pitying sound, wrapping his arms around your middle. “Sweetheart,” he laments, “do you think you might want a cuddle?” 

“Sure,” you agree, and your hand is removed from Remus’ as James pulls you into his lap, propping his chin on your shoulder with a pout, “but everything’s really fine, don’t worry.” 

Sirius leans his head on the couch cushion, looking at you with eyes sharp and contemplative. “What’s going through your head, pretty girl?” he asks. 

James covers your heart with a big hand, frowning at what he feels. You shrug. “I was just thinking about what I have to do tomorrow.” 

“You’ve been keeping busy lately,” Remus says. “Maybe you need to take some things off your plate.” 

A grimace is fixed upon your face before he’s finished talking. “It all has to get done, though,” you sigh. “No way around it.” 

Sirius and Remus exchange a look. “Maybe we can help,” Sirius says. 

You shake your head. “There’s nothing you can do,” you insist. “It’s not impossible, I’ve just been lazy and now it’s all piled up and I have to deal with it.” Your voice tenses as you lay it out, and your body with it. “It’s my problem. It’s not great, but I’ll get it done.” 

Sirius’ expression twitches into a frown at your increasingly agitated tone, and James gives you a firm squeeze, pressing a kiss into the side of your head. 

“Shh, angel, just slow down for a minute. You’re okay right now, aren’t you?” 

Some of the frustration slips from your expression. “I’m fine, I just—” 

“Then relax.” James’ voice is equal parts gentle and firm. “Take a deep breath.” 

You do. You close your eyes, and Remus can almost hear you counting as you inhale through your nose. James and Sirius, for probably the first time all evening, are silent. 

You stop breathing in. A small dent forms between your brows. 

“I can’t do it all the way,” you say, a slight vulnerability to your voice. 

Remus tries to make his low and sure to counter it. “That’s okay, it still counts. Just keep going, love. And maybe hear Sirius out.” 

Sirius very obviously fights the urge to gloat at the support, but he softens his preening into a lightly teasing look, narrowing his eyes at you playfully. “As I was saying, there have to be things we can make easier for you. What’s on your to-do list?” 

You take in another breath, and James makes a satisfied humming sound against your temple. “I mean, I really have to do laundry.” 

“Are you joking?” A grin splits Sirius’ face. “We can do that for you, baby, easy.” 

“And I have to finish my project,” you go on, as though determined to prove the impossibility of your tasks, “which will likely take all morning.” 

“I’ll be here tomorrow,” James reminds you. “Would it help if I made you breakfast so you don’t have to take the time?” 

You look surprised, head turning towards him. “Yeah,” you say. “That would be really helpful, actually.” 

“Stubborn thing.” Sirius pinches at your thigh, but Remus catches his hand before it can do any real damage. “Nothing we can do, huh?”

You duck your head sheepishly. Still, Remus can hear your smile when you say, “Sorry, you were right.” 

“It happens more often than you’d think, doll. Really astute of you to recognize it, though.”  

“For now,” Remus cuts in before Sirius can get to really gloating, “maybe it’s best to just try to relax, dove. Tomorrow’s problems will be manageable, there’s no sense in stressing yourself out tonight.” 

“Yeah,” you say, almost shyly. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking properly.” 

“Don’t be sorry, baby,” James chides, tightening his hold on you. “It’s all good now, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you admit. 

There’s a brief pause. 

“Sorry,” Sirius says, not sounding apologetic in the slightest, “I just want to hear it from your lips one more time. You said I was what?”

[fandomfloozy]

Oh, I'm pretty boy?

pairing: katsuki bakugo x sick!reader

c/w: fluff, early relationship, petnames (katsuki calls reader babe, reader evidently calls katsuki pretty lol), sprinkles of hispanic!reader/spanish-speaking!reader, gn!reader

wc: 1.3k

~°•*~

You've been sick the last few days.

You're on the tail-end of recovery now, thank god, but for most of the week you've been bed-ridden, and snotty, and sweaty, and hot, and cold. It's been miserable, if you're being honest. With the light at the end of the tunnel in view, you're glad the worst of it is over.

There has been one upside to being sickly, though--one aspect that makes you wish you could be sick just one more day: Ever since you fell ill, since the moment he'd heard you were taking leave off work to rest at home for a bit, you've been under the thorough care of your very own, self-appointed nurse, Katsuki.

There's this saying: "You'll never truly know someone well enough until you've seen them struggle financially, grieve a lost loved one, or witness them while they're sick."

Your relationship is new. Not early days, but still far too soon for him to be seeing you sick, for your liking.

But when he showed up at your door a couple days ago--masked up, worry-eyed, and holding all the essentials for treating a typical head cold--how could you refuse him?

And to be fair, he's been a rock. He's changed your compresses (water bowl kept at optimal temperature), given you medicine in intervals (timed and administered to the MINUTE), and even cooked you palatable meals (anything you could keep down, but namely the caldo recipe he got from your mom when he asked her what you ate when you're sick). He did everything short of rubbing Vick's vapo rub on you (not for lack of trying), all while keeping a level head and brushing aside your concerns over feeling like you're burdening him.

"You're my girlfriend," he'd say matter-of-factly. "This is my job, ain't it?"

A rhetorical question. He said it as if it was an irrefutable truth, as if he hadn't even considered an alternative, as if the very thought of leaving you to fend off this cold by yourself was an affront to your relationship, scowl on his face and all.

His bedside manner needed work, but when he said those words to you... let's just say the flush rising up your face probably had nothing to do with the cold.

So, yeah. While you're happy to be feeling better, you can't help being a little disappointed that the doting will soon come to an end.

Which is why you now sit with your head resting in your hands, elbows on the kitchen bar, making the most of admiring a now unmasked Katsuki as he cooks your dinner on what will be the last of your "sick days."

You're unashamed in your ogling. You feel bold. It might be the relaxed atmosphere. It might be the way Katsuki let you wear his hoodie tonight... It might just be the cold medicine. You feel dozy, comfy, and so dopily content as you watch your boyfriend chop vegetables.

He does it with ease--so practiced that it's like he's on autopilot. His defenses are down, completely in his element.

"'Ya sure you want all this cooked in with your rice?" Now that you're feeling better, he's less inclined to hold his tongue about his thoughts on your childhood dishes.

You yawn and nod. "Mhm, it's the way my mami always makes it."

"Just sayin', I could make ya rice without all this extra stuff."

"It's a good thing you're not making rice, Katsuki." You pout dramatically for emphasis. "You're making sopita."

"Sopita," he repeats, shaking his head with a sideways grin. "Alright, babe. I've got you covered. Sopita coming right up."

You switch to resting your cheek in one hand, continuing to observe your boyfriend as he works. He looks so serene this way. With his smug little half smile, even his expression screams "relaxed"--very unlike his usual frown and furrowed brow.

You're not used to seeing him like this. Sure, you've seen him in a good mood, upbeat, excited, even downright elated, like on the day you agreed to go out with him.

Katsuki has always been an... expressive person, even when it doesn't grant him the most flattering of expressions.

Right now, though, while he's contented and caring for you in the comfort of your own home, his features are on display in such a way that you wonder if the cough syrup really is getting to you.

He looks almost...

Pretty...

"You're starin'."

You know you are. "Sorry," you laugh. "I was just thinking how it's a shame you have such a cara de fuchi most of the time, Kats. You're so pretty."

His head snaps toward you. "Fucking WHAT." The furrow is back in his brow. If you were paying proper attention, you'd notice the flush rising up his neck and the back of his ears, but your eyelids are feeling a bit heavy at this point.

You wave your free hand dismissively. "You know, cara de fuchi," you explain. You're sure you've used this phrase in front of him before. "Like you're a sour puss, you pull faces--"

"I'm not fucking pretty," he interrupts.

You open your eyes slightly to squint at him. "Pfft," you laugh. "Has no one ever told you that?"

"Hell, no." He turns back to the task at hand. Grumbling under his breath.

With his signature grimace making its return, the allure is gone; but now that you've seen it, you can't unsee it. He's beautiful. His eyes are a nice shape, and the crimson color of his irises is striking against his light complexion. The way his hair falls just above is strong browbone makes you want to push it back and rub at the scrunch between his brows. And you know he has soft lips, but on top of that, they're such a nice shade of pink. His jawline. His cheekbones. His chin.

It's a fundamental truth. Katsuki Bakugo is pretty.

You fold your arms on the island and press your cheek into the crook of your elbow. "I'm sure people would tell you more often if all the pretty wasn't covered up by your perpetual stank face."

Cue said stank face. He bumbles over his words in frustration for a second. "You're sick and loopy, stop bein' weird."

You giggle. "And you have a nice face when you're not acting chronically disgusted by the world."

He looks at you properly and you smile to yourself in pure delight and fondness.

"You're pretty when you're happy, Katsuki."

He deliberates over it for a moment, stank face semi relaxing. He's about to say something else when you cut into the silence with another yawn.

His gaze softens into an amused smirk as he reaches for your cheek and pinches softly. "Alright, alright. Don't fall asleep on me just yet, you gotta eat properly before goin' to bed."

You swat his hand away and rise to attention while rubbing your eyes. "Okay, okay. I'm up."

He smiles and goes back to cooking your half-prepared meal. "Ponte las pilas, or whatever the hell your mom says when you start lazin' around."

You huff at that. "I regret teaching you Spanish, you always pick up the worst phrases."

Katsuki barks out a laugh and you can't help the snort that follows as you giggle right along with him.

You two settle into the monotony of the last evening of your first of many sick days together. You're sure your boyfriend has had more than enough of witnessing you sick to satisfy stipulations. Suffice to say that he felt he knew you and your "sleepy freak tendencies" a bit better now.

There's definitely an addendum you'd make to that old saying, though: You'll never know how pretty someone is until you've seen them care for you while you're sick.

~°•*~

divider via cafekitsune

gif via ara-kan (deactivated)

[slamminslamminmcgill]

Ruins - Joel Miller/FTM!Reader (NSFW!)

you venture into the ruins of a nearby sex shop/porn theater with one thing in mind: dick without any emotional attachments. however, when you cross paths with an older guy named joel, your emotions don’t stay detached for very long.

tags/warnings: anonymous sex, cruising, gloryhole sex, oral sex, age gap, daddy kink, brat taming, domination, degradation/humiliation, breeding kink, public sex, exhibitionism, voyeurism, poppers, facials, spit-roasting, squirting, spit kink, spanking, face slapping, pussy slapping, hair pulling, the briefest most bitch-tier instance of misgendering, some light homophobia/transphobia for flavor

ao3 link

word count: 6,945

anatomical terms: cunt/pussy/kitty/twat, clit/(t-)dick/cock

author’s note: THIS HAS BEEN COOKING FOR 6 MONTHS OOPSIE sowwy it took so long. anyway shoutout to my hometown's 24/7 sex store/porn theater with gloryholes for the inspiration :3

ALL YOU CAN WATCH PORN THEATER

60 CHANNELS

$10 ENTRY FEE

XXX

You wondered what that sign would’ve looked like when it was lit. When electricity could be wasted on frivolous things like a homing beacon for no-strings-attached cock. And batteries were so plentiful that you could put them in vibrating toys to shove up your ass.

Now, ‘bout 2 decades after the world went to shit, the sign was dark. Dark like the rest of this place. You would’ve been a baby when it was open. Hell, it’s probably older than you are. It’s kind of beautiful, if you think about it. You’re on your knees waiting for dick in these ancient ruins, here to worship the gods of anonymous sex, just like so many others who came before you, and probably all over the walls while they were here.

At this point, you might as well chop the number 6 off that sign, and you’d do it if the floor ever needed more broken glass to crunch under your boots. A whopping 60 channels down to 0. The only porn that’d be showing would be if some other patrons were here to make it themselves. Actually, the silence actually made it easier to find a partner. You wouldn’t be trying to make out footsteps from underneath the droning moans of various girls and twinks across dozens of screens. Since this dilapidated sex store was one of the very few cruising grounds left in the Boston QZ, you’d usually hear a couple sets of shoes shuffling around, but tonight was bone dry. For now, at least. You’d only been here for 10 minutes, sitting in a stall by yourself taking a Rorschach test with the cum stains above the gloryhole. Anything to pass the time.

Then, you heard it. That sweet symphony of slow and steady footsteps, atop an orchestra of creaking floorboards. Just one pair, it sounded like. They scoped your surrounding area, checking the stalls in the rows behind you. They got louder and louder, and soon you could hear them coming down your aisle. They stopped when they saw a closed door: yours. Barely hanging onto the hinges with a busted lock to match, but a sign of intelligent life. You saw a flashlight click on, confirming that this stall was indeed occupied, then the light swept past you along with the footsteps. The bright beam circled around you, from the door, down to the floor, and up and over to the gloryhole partitioning your stall and theirs. Bingo. Target acquired.

The flashlight flicked off…

A bag was tossed into the corner…

Another flimsy door squeaked as it shut…

Then, everything was quiet…

…

And the next thing you heard was a belt unbuckling. 

You scrambled into position and peered through the hole. Judging by what you could see—a pudgy, fuzzy belly peeking out from unzipped jeans, and large calloused hands tugging on a fat cock growing harder by the second—they seemed like your type. You stuck your fingers through the hole, beckoning the mysterious suitor to come forth and give you what you came here for. They approached the hole, and you withdrew your fingers to allow them entry. They continued to stroke themselves in preparation, just barely out of your reach, taunting you, mocking you, though you dared not interrupt them. Finally, before the last of your restraint could slip through your fingers, their gorgeous cock slipped through the hole.

“Mmm…” You involuntarily mewled in appreciation, instinctively grabbing the stranger’s dick and kissing its tip. Your tongue teased its slit, coaxing sweet precum to spill from it. You vacuumed the head into your mouth before gliding your lips down the shaft.

The stranger merely grunted, barely audible through the wall. Ah, the quiet type. The kind who keeps their feelings to themselves when they get their dick sucked. You wondered what they were thinking of. What was this for them? A quick stop after the day’s work to blow off some steam? A breach of fidelity against an unsuspecting wife at home? The fulfillment of a long-desired fantasy, or just another Tuesday night blowjob?

Even though your partner wasn’t a talker, their cock was very responsive. You could feel it twitch and leak, pulsating in your mouth, somehow getting even harder than you thought possible. It was the perfect specimen. You had to get it inside you.

You popped your lips off and wrapped your hand around the fat shaft, letting the stranger know that you weren’t going anywhere, and that they shouldn’t either. You stood up and undressed your bottom half with your free hand. Once exposed, you turned around and bent over, attempting to guide the cock into your waiting cunt. Attempting, being the key word there. It’s hard to fuck with a wall in the way.

First, your hips were too high, then too low. Then you got the altitude right, but the angle was all wrong. It started to poke your asshole, which would’ve been fine if you had any lube, but you did not. Looks like it’s front entry only tonight. You tried to put it in your cunt yourself, but your own arm was just getting in the way. Fuck. Okay. Let’s recalibrate. You braced your hands on the wall opposing you, and pushed your hips back, completely airballing the cock. If only your holes had eyes. The flimsy door jiggled as you strained against the walls. You tried again, this time feeling the hard shaft rubbing up against your ass cheek. Getting warmer. Just gotta angle it. Thank god your newfound partner was standing still and letting you do this. You put all your weight into your hands, pushing as hard as you could on the far wall, and went to thrust your hips back once more…

And then the shitty door broke off its hinges and fell backwards on top of you.

You got knocked to the ground with a loud crash and a louder yell of “SHIT!”

“Y’alright in there?” A gravelly voice asked from the other side.

With nothing hurt except your pride, you shouted, “Y-Yeah! I, uhh… I think I’m good! Fuckin’ door fell on me…” You tried pushing it off, but it was too heavy, and too dark to see where you could crawl out from under it. You kicked around on the floor for a few seconds, until the voice asked,

“Need help?”

After taking the time to consider your considerably limited options, you said, “…That would be appreciated, yes.”

And thus your knight in shining armor came to rescue you from entrapment. You heard the click of a flashlight, the rustling of some clothes, and then you saw a haze of light around your wooden prison. Two hands much bigger than yours slipped under one side of the door and pried it off you, freeing you and allowing you to meet your hero face to face. You were greeted by the sight of a concerned, rugged, sexy older man, and you already knew he was packing heat in his pants. He was everything you could’ve hoped for.

You, on the other hand, were not given positive feedback upon first glance. When the light was on your face, you gave him a timid, lighthearted and limpwristed wave, and he merely furrowed his brow in response. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, kid, how old’re ya?”

“23,” You said, sitting upright on the floor, criss-cross applesauce, your bare cunt hiding in plain sight. “I’m legal, I swear.”

“Still, that’s…” He grumbled, casting his eyes away from your distressingly youthful face. “You’re too young for this. Shit, I been coming to places like this since before you were born…”

You felt honored to be in the presence of such a historian. “Really? Wow…” So many questions you could ask. What was it like back then? Were there a lot of places like this? Did you go to them a lot? What was your best experience? While you flipped through the available dialogue responses, you reached up to palm his still-hard cock, which he’d tucked back into his boxer-briefs, his fly still unzipped. You smiled up at him seductively, and selected the statement, “That’s kinda hot…”

The stranger chuckled, enamored by your boldness and naivety. “The hell were you even try’na do just now t’ make the door fall off like that?”

“I was trying to get you into my… my, uh…” Oh, shit. How the fuck do you explain that? You were counting on the wall between you two to keep your secret safe. Semantics didn’t matter in the dark; a hole’s a hole. You twiddled your thumbs and subtly opened your legs, waiting for the stranger to see for himself.

And indeed he did see. He locked eyes with it, and knelt down to see it up close. “How’d you get that?”

You shrugged. “Was born with it...”

“No shit…” Joel pushed your legs further apart to ogle your pussy. His rough fingers spread your lips, and he made a confused face at the sight of your t-dick. You couldn’t blame him, though. He’d probably never seen anything like it. “That s’posed to be your clit?”

“Mhm…” You nodded.

“Why’s it so big? Looks like you got a tiny li'l dick.”

You puffed a breathy laugh, “Heh heh… Hormones…”, hoping that’d be a sufficient explanation.

And it was. “Huh. Cool.” He mumbled, and nonchalantly rolled his thumb over it. Your entire body jolted forward, grabbing onto his bicep to ground yourself, and he pulled back. “Woah, y’alright? Want me to stop?”

“No, no, no, you’re fine… Y-You’re okay, just…” You took a sharp inhale, a deep breath that shuddered on its way out. You batted your eyelashes at him, a gesture of playful confidence alongside the intimacy and vulnerability of eye contact. “Just keep going… Please…”

That eye contact between you two didn’t last long. Your partner shifted his focus downwards. He had to. He couldn't go in blind. You were something new, uncharted territory to explore and conquer. He traced two of his fingers up the length of your pussy until they diverged at your dick. They pinched your tiny length and jerked you, tentatively at first. Though when you twitched, and let out the sweetest little cry of,

“Aah~! Fu-u-uck…”

He was hooked, both metaphorically and literally now with his arm around your waist, tugging you into his lap. He took you into his experienced embrace and started to jerk you off like he meant it. Those big, rough man-hands, worn from decades of hard labor, more decades of handling dick than your entire existence, were fucking amazing. Your mind went dumb in seconds, your face slumped against his chest, pawing at his flannel shirt and whimpering. Honestly, you were so deep in a trance that you didn’t even realize it when you said,

“Nnnn, Daddy…”

The stranger stopped dead in his tracks. He knotted his fingers in your hair and ripped your head backward. A searing pain shot from your scalp, down your spine and snapping it into an arch. You made a sound somewhere between a wince and a whine, and the thickest, deepest, roughest voice you’d ever heard growled at you, “The fuck you just call me?”

Oh shit, oh god, oh fuck fuck fuck. You froze. Suddenly you were a prey animal, a helpless little bunny rabbit with no chance of winning against the big bad wolf. Or, probably more accurately, you were a clueless dipshit hunter who stepped in his own fucking bear trap. Then and only then did you realize the sheer stupidity of what you were doing. It’s almost if going out alone to fuck strangers is risky, or something. Huh. Who'da thunk it. You better pray he has mercy on you. 

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” You chanted, hoping your repeated apologies would smooth things over with him. They didn’t seem to be doing anything, so you tried to explain yourself. “It’s just, I… I don’t know your name, so-“

But he wasn’t buying it. “Oh, cut the shit. That ain’t why ya said it.”

You stammered, trying to make sense of his accusation. “I… I don’t—I don’t understand…” 

“It’s Joel.”

“Huh?”

“My name. It’s Joel." He said with no pleasantry in his tone, "‘N’ now that’cha know that, how’s about you look me in the fuckin’ eye and tell me you don’t still wanna call me Daddy?”

Motherfucker. This guy could read you like a book. Like a book intended to teach reading to children, you were that easy. Your Very Hungry Caterpillar lookin’ ass had nothing to say in your own defense. There was nothing to say, except maybe “I… I do… I do wanna… call you Daddy…”

With your admission, Joel relaxed his grip, but still held onto your hair. “Good boy…” He mused. That Southern drawl of his, rich and sweet like honey, seeped into the valleys of your brain‘s wrinkles. “Daddy’s got you.”

He pressed his lips to yours, and you were gone, completely blasted into subspace, perfectly malleable for him. Joel was a good kisser. Slow, but firm. Dominant. His slightly chapped lips coaxed you open, sculpting himself into you with that scratchy beard against your skin. You draped your arms over his shoulders and let him lead. He smelled like aftershave over man-musk with a light tinge of cigarettes or maybe pot smoke. Intoxicating. His hand untangled itself from your hair, now petting instead of pulling, as the other trailed back down to your tiny cock, squeezing and rolling it between his fingers. 

“O-Oh~! D-Daddy!” you squealed. 

“I know, baby, I know. Be good. Be a good boy, and Daddy’s gonna make you feel real good, okay?”

“Mmm, okay, Daddy…”

“Attaboy.” Joel dotted kisses from your lips to your jaw and to the side of your neck. It was unprecedented, how quickly you latched onto him, but understandable. An older man taking a young boy like you into his arms, holding him tight, telling him to be good. Of course you’d be putty in his hands. Your train of thought was just sampling and remixing his praise over and over. I know, baby. I know. Daddy’s got you. Be good. Be a good boy. Good boy. Daddy’s got you. Oh, Daddy’s got you, alright. Daddy’s got you wrapped around his fucking finger. 

“Ohhh, Daddy, pleeease, I… I want…” You swallowed, attempting to choke down a moan. It didn’t work. “Ngah, I want your cock in meee…”

“Quit whinin’, whore. I’ll fuck ya when I feel like it.”

Well, that was some tonal whiplash. Just a few seconds earlier he was cooing to you, encouraging you to be a good boy for him. Now you were nothing but a whore, just three warm holes for him to blow a load into. You couldn’t cope, and you certainly weren’t above begging for it. “Nooo, nononono, please, Daddy, please fuck me, please fuck me, I-AH!”

A swift bitchslap ended the discussion on that. Evidently, your Daddy believed in the old ‘spare the rod, spoil the child’ expression.

“Told ya to quit whinin’,” Joel hissed as he grabbed you by the jaw and dug his nails into your face. “You’re the one who wanted a Daddy, right? Well, now you got one. And Daddy don’t like when his bitches talk back. Got it?” 

“S-Sorry!” You cried, “I’m sorry, Daddy! I’m sorry, I–Ohhh, fuuuck, yeees…”

In the midst of your bitching and moaning, Joel plunged two fingers into your dripping cunt, dragging and twisting them any which way he pleased. 

“Aw, pretty boy’s got a tight little kitty now, don’t he?” He sneered. Even his compliments were backhanded. “‘N’ so wet, too… How many cocks you take up here before?”

“I do–oh! Fuck!” You yelped when his fingers tapped your g-spot, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck in an attempt to hide. “I don’t… I don’t know!”

“Yes you do, slut.” He took you by the hair again and tore you out of your hiding spot. “Tell me.”

You gulped. “N-No, I really… I really don’t… I stopped counting…”

Joel was stunned by your admission of guilt. Initially, he’d felt bad about hooking up with someone so much younger. He’d felt like he was corrupting you. Like a dirty old man creeping on someone young enough to be his kid. But now, any shred of hesitation had been tossed out the window. After all, you can only get so dirty, right? It’s not like he’d be doing any more damage to you. He laughed with a cynical sense of admiration. “Oh, you’re nasty, kid… Nasty little fuckin’ cuntboy…” Joel slid his fingers out of your cunt and stuffed them into your mouth, making you slurp your arousal off them. “You want mine too, huh? You want me on your fuckin’ dick list? Your li’l whore roster?”

You nodded with his digits pressed into your tongue and drool dripping down your chin. 

He slid his wet fingers out of your mouth, smearing spit all over your face, and grabbed your jaw again. “I need ya to say it, boy. Say ‘I want my Daddy’s big cock in my little wet whore hole.’”

You pursed your lips and whined, hoping you could weasel your way out of saying something that degrading. “Daddy, pleeease…”

“Y’ain’t gettin’ it ‘til ya say it.”

Fuck. No such luck. Oh, well. If that’s what you had to do to get what you needed, so be it. “I want... I want my Daddy’s big cock in my little…” The sharp, cruel words seemed to cut your vocal cords like shards of glass. “w-wet… whore hole…”

“Good job, slut.” Joel said flatly before nudging you off his lap. “On your back.” 

You rolled onto the hardwood floor, opened your legs, held them up by your ankles, and brought your knees to your chest. Such an obedient little slut you were, assuming the position perfectly, not even caring about the dingy, disgusting floor you were lying on. Fuck it. At least it was dry. Well, for now, at least. Who’s to say that you wouldn’t be the one leaving behind a puddle of mystery liquid. Actually, that reminds you…

“Oh! I, uh, I should probably warn you… I squirt.”

“Fine by me,” Joel knelt in front of you and took hold of you by your hips. He dragged you up his thighs and then pulled your legs even wider apart. You’d certainly feel that stretch in the morning, likely along with several others. “You clean?” He asked out of the blue.

You tilted your head, mesmerized by the sudden question. “Hah…? Wha?”

“I said, are you clean? Like ya get tested and stuff?” He explained, hastily fishing his cock out of his pants.

How genuinely reassuring. He actually gave one tiddlywink of a fuck about your wellbeing. It was a nice surprise. “Oh!” You nodded confidently, “Yeah! I’m good!  And, I’m on, uh… I’m on birth control, too, so, uh… if you wanna…”

Joel snickered, “Well, shit, that’s a tempting offer.”

And you smirked back, “You gonna take me up on it?”

“Just might have to…” He leaned down to kiss your neck, that scratchy stubble tickling you again. “Ya want Daddy raw?” 

“Mhm…”

“Gotta say it, pumpkin. Say you want Daddy raw.”

“I want Daddy raw… I want Daddy raw…” You babbled, grabbing onto his flannel shirt and climbing up his chest. One of your hands landed perfectly on his pocket, in which was a small, hard object. Maybe glass? You couldn’t tell through the fabric. “Mm? What’s this?” You asked, prodding the hidden treasure. 

“What, this?” Joel huffed and reached into his pocket, retrieving a teensy tiny glass bottle, bearing the remnants of a red and yellow label eroded by time. “They’re called poppers. You ever heard of ‘em?”

You shook your head. No clue. 

“‘s basically nail polish remover,” Joel said, unscrewing the cap and bringing it to his face. “Ya huff the fumes, and it relaxes your muscles. Opens you up. Gives you a rush for like 30 seconds. Feels pretty intense.” He brought the lip of the bottle to his nostril and huffed it. 

Oh, yeah. That sounds vaguely familiar. You heard a rumor that gay men would huff chemicals for sex, supposedly to make anal easier. This must be that. You counted his breath, trying to gauge how big of a hit one’s supposed to take. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5… 

Then the other nostril. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5…

He let out a rumbly exhale and held it out to you. “You wanna try?”

Under most circumstances, you think you’d know better than to huff strange chemicals offered to you by a stranger. But something about him—his paternal vibe, his subtle gestures of care, and the fact that he huffed it first—was trustworthy. You decided to go for it. “Sure!”

“Kay. I’mma give you a little to start. See how you react.” Joel touched the bottle to one of your nostrils. “Breathe it in.”

You did as you were told, and inhaled, not as long as he did. 1, 2, 3…

And then he pulled it away, screwed the top back on, and plopped it back in his pocket. 

“Tap me if ya want more.” He grabbed hold of your thighs and held them open. His bulbous tip started to poke at your cunt, already juicy and winking at him. “Ready?”

Feeling the come up of the poppers, you sighed blissfully, “Yeah…”

“Deep breath for me baby. In…”

You listened to your Daddy and took a deep breath in…

“And out.”

…and let it go.

“Hahhh–ah! Fuck! Ngh! Yes!”

And then your Daddy’s massive cock ripped your tiny twat open for him. It stung, for sure, but whatever jungle juice type concoction in that bottle must’ve helped. There was a dull ache as he continued to push in, seemingly moving your internal organs out of his way, but it was nothing compared to the floating, swirling sensations you were feeling everywhere else.

“Shhh, take it, baby…” Joel cooed. He let go of one of your legs, which you instinctively crooked behind his back. He leaned down, planting his now free hand on the floor for balance, and kissed you on your forehead. “You can take it… Just gotta get used t’me, is all…”

“It’s so… It’s so deep…”

“Yeah, baby, I know… I know it is…” Joel validated you verbally, but kept pressing in deeper. And deeper. Deeper than you thought your cunt could go. 

“F-Fuck!” You cried out in surprise and pulled him tight against you, chest to chest. It wasn’t necessary; he definitely wasn’t going anywhere, not after burying himself in your body like this. You just needed the contact, physical touch to help you cope. You were honestly mesmerized. It felt like his cockhead was in the back of your throat. You’d never felt anything like it; no dick or dick substitute before had come close. “H-How… Haha… Wha… What the fuck?! How do you do that?!”

Joel laughed against you, his belly rumbling against yours. “I don’t… I don’t know? You just feel real nice, kid. Makes me wanna get real deep in ya… S’okay. You’ll get used to me…” He reiterated.

And with time, you did. Your body gradually relaxed around him, and you felt a deep buzzing sensation within your pussy, an itching need for more. 

“You can move now…”

“Yeah?” Joel hummed, and left another sweet smooch on your cheek. “Ya sure?”

“Yeah-yeah! Fuck!”

He cut you off with a firm snap of his hips, spiking his cock deep inside you in one hard hit. 

Then another. 

“Daddy!”

And another. And soon he had a steady beat going, a beat accented by your cute little yelps,

“Aah!… Fuck!… Oh!… Mm!”

and your feeble attempts at communicating in a complete sentence. 

“Fuck!… Fuck!… Daddy!… B-Big!… Cock!…”

Joel smirked as he drilled your cunt. “Daddy’s got a big cock, huh? You like your Daddy’s big cock?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes, fuck! Yes!”

“Say it.” He commanded, “Say your Daddy has a big cock.”

“My Daddy has a big cock!” You cried out, your voice echoing through the rubble of humanity’s ancient vices. Maybe in another life, years before your time, there was another little cuntboy, an ethereal deity crowned and illuminated by a neon halo, who once whined the same thing as you, in the exact same spot as you, with the exact same cadence as you. “My Daddy has a big cock!!!”

“Mmm, damn right, I do, boy.” Joel grunted, barely audible over your audacious bitching and moaning. Even when you blew him earlier, he was quiet. Maybe he just doesn’t feel the need to make noise, or maybe he’s shy. You, on the other hand, couldn’t shut the fuck up. Any half-baked thought in your fucked-out mind slipped out with no filter in its way. 

“Daddy! Daddy! Fuck me, fuck me, Daddy! Yes! God, fuck me, yes! So deep! So fucking deep! Oh my god, you’re so fuck—fucking deep, Daddy! So fucking big! Ah~!”

“Christ, yer fuckin’ loud.” Joel huffed, “Wake the dead with a voice like that.”

“W-Want me to… mmm, be quiet?”

“Nah, scream for me, bitch. Ain’t nobody here but us.” Joel grabbed you by your shoulders and squeezed your whole body against him, jerking off with your very being like a living fleshlight. It worked like a charm, making you howl even louder. 

“Fuck! Ahhh, fuuuuck, ye-e-e-e-es!” 

While getting your guts rearranged on the grimy floor, you happened to crack your eye open, and you saw something. No, someone. Someone was tugging their cock as they watched you through the doorway. It turns out you were not the only ones here. Joel was facing the other way, meaning he couldn’t see them, but he stopped when he heard a cough that didn’t come from you. 

“Hm?” He looked up and saw the voyeur enjoying your show. But it didn’t bother him. He just went right back to work. “Well, goddamn. Looks like you got us a little audience, baby boy. Look at you. Star of the show.” He praised, and gave you a proud smack on the ass. “I’mma fuck you doggy. Get on all fours.”

Sure, you know he meant doggy style, but damn, if only he’d enunciated a comma. As in “I’mma fuck you, doggy.” Now wouldn’t that be something. It fits. You’re dumb, obedient, and eager to please. That fat cock slid out of you, leaving you unbearably empty, and you crawled onto your knees. It was more of a downward doggy style, with your cheeks resting against your arms, crossed and propped up on the floor. Face down, ass up. A classic. 

“Perfect,” Joel praised, punctuating his compliment with another spank, “Good boy.”

“Nnn, thank you~” You whined. Pathetically. You tend to do that a lot, especially when a big cock splits your cunt in half. Again. “Mmm, fuckfuckfuck!”

“Yeah, c’mon, now, take it. Take that dick, take that dick, pretty boy. You got it. Daddy’s got you.” Joel cooed as he bottomed out from behind. He gave you some time to adjust to him before his hips retreated, a deliberately slow drag out, then a hard pump back in,

“Ah-ha~!”

then another,

“Fu-u-uck~!”

and another,

“Daddy~!”

And soon he was fucking you a tempo. You cocked your head to the side and rested it on your forearms. Without the luxury of even a dingy motel pillow to grab while a stranger fucks you raw, you had to resort to your own body for comfort. Sniffling, drooling, dripping with depravity as this old man cored you out, you were distracted by a distinct—

Thump. 

—right above your ear. Right where the gloryhole was. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what caused it.

But you didn’t get a chance to confirm your suspicions before Joel intervened. 

“Hey.”

He grabbed your hair and yanked your head up from the floor, the cock grazing your cheek as a result. 

“Suck it. C’mon, now. Be a good boy. Suck ‘em like you sucked me.”

You needed no motivation beyond that. Being a good boy for Daddy was enough to get you to suck another strange cock through a hole in the wall. You wrapped your lips around it and slurped their half-hard, less impressive length all into your mouth at once. It wasn’t the best blowjob you’d given, after all you were more than a little preoccupied, but it made Joel proud. 

“Yeah, that’s it, good boy.” He purred, petting your hair as he continued to use your cunt, “Put that little whore mouth to work. Do a good job, now. Bet a lotta guys here gon’ want a turn on you.”

Threatening you with a good time, now, wasn’t he? You dutifully sucked the mediocre cock in front of you, choking on it not from size but from your own pleasured sobs interrupting your work. The stranger didn’t seem to mind. In fact, they seemed to be enjoying themselves, heavy breathing behind the wall, twitching and leaking precum on your tongue. Suddenly, they retreated from your mouth, and blinded you with a spray of hot jizz, painting your whole face from hairline to chin. Some dripped into your mouth, and it tasted… a little yucky, but tolerable. It felt nice on your face though, and Joel loved your new look. 

“Ooh, yeah, pretty boy. So cute, takin’ it on the chin like that. Little fuckin’ cumwhore, aint’cha, queer?” He spanked your left ass cheek, then your right, and jiggled them both before yanking you backwards, “C’mere,” and pulling out to flip you on your back. “Let Daddy look at’cha.”

His firm muscular hand grasped you by the chin and squished your cheeks, anonymous cum cascading down his fingers. “So fuckin’ pretty,” he mused, jiggling your jaw back and forth. His other hand dipped into his shirt pocket and retrieved the bottle of poppers. He cracked it open, served himself, then loosely capped the bottle and held it out for you. “Help yourself, sweetheart.”

You took the bottle in your hands and huffed its fumes one nostril at a time, perhaps a little too hard on the second one. The caustic liquid shot up and singed the inside of your nostril, leaving behind a poignant sting. Though briefly disoriented upon splashback, you finagled the cap back on and clutched the bottle in your fist as Joel pushed back inside.

“Fu-u-uck, Daddy! Daddy~!” you cried, curling up into him. 

Joel didn’t answer you. He was too preoccupied with bending your body in half and squatting over you into a mating press. He had the perfect angle to dig deep. Deep. So. Fucking. Deep. The sound of his balls slapping against your sodden cunt was salacious and sickeningly loud. 

“Aw, poor baby, look at you. You’re just a hot mess, ain’t ‘cha boy?.” Joel punctuated his statement by spitting in your face. The glob of spit mixed with some cum, rolled down into your mouth, and naturally, you swallowed. “You wanna take my load inside you though, right? Want me to breed ya?”

“Yes! Yes, please, inside! Please, inside, fill me up! Please breed me! Knock me up, please!!!” 

“Relax, boy,” Joel stilled inside you, your cunt throbbing petulantly in need of friction. “I‘m not there yet. And besides,” He gave your clit a sharp slap, making you jump, yelp, and clench around him, “I ain’t cummin’ ‘til I see this kitty squirt for me, ya hear?”

A feeble whine of “Okay…” was all you could manage at the present moment. Your mind was gone, floating away with the rest of your being, or at least it would be but for the iron grip your pussy had on his cock, tethering you to reality, to him. All of your body’s strength went into your cunt, contracting, squeezing, milking him for all he was worth. Was he the perfect fit? Or were you just that good at taking him? Either way, your inner walls shifted, and you felt the ridge of his cockhead scrape your g-spot, a shock to your whole system. “Fuck! There! Right there!”

“Where, right here?” Joel asked, making sure to strike you at the same angle again. He hissed when he felt you clench and whimper in response. “Oh, yeah, that’s the spot, ain’t it? Gon’ cum for me, baby boy?”

“I–ah! Fuck! So close! Daddy! P-Please!”

Joel grabbed your hand and brought it to your own cunt. “Jerk that tiny little dick for me, pretty boy. Come on. Cum on Daddy’s cock. Lemme feel it. Lemme feel ya fuckin’ gush.”

You pinched your aching t-dick and stroked it vigorously, your fingers occasionally slipping off due to your own wetness. Luckily, it didn’t take much to send you over the edge. With a loud, embarrassing squeal, you squirted all over Joel: his cock, his belly, and his jeans that he’d foolishly left partway on. Although, he didn’t seem to mind, that is, until your orgasm pushed his cock out. 

“Nuh uh, don’t kick me out.” Joel growled, grabbing his cock and forcing it back inside you. He made sure to look you right in the eye as he said, “Don’t you fuckin’ kick me out, whore.”

You sniveled and cried, continuing to squirt as he rammed the rest of your climax out of you. A certified mess, head to toe, covered in bodily fluids: cum, sweat, spit, squirt, and now, tears. “I’m s-sor—I’m sorry-y-y, Daddy-y-y…”

“Aw, no, honey, ‘s’okay. I know you ain’t mean it.” Joel cupped your face in his hand, swiping your tears and some jizz away with his thumb. “Jus’ can’t handle a big cock like mine, huh? Too much for your little kitty to take, ain’t it?”

You nuzzled your face into his hand, “Mhm…”

“Well, I’m almost there, sweetheart, don’t you worry. Little kitty’s gon’ get her cream.”

Your face soured at the wrong pronoun being used for your “kitty”, as he’d so affectionately called it. You saw fit to gently correct him. “H-His…”

“Hm?”

“His cream… p-please…” You mumbled.

“Right, my bad, sweetie.” Joel craned himself down to kiss your forehead once more, “Your little kitty’s gon’ get all the cream he can handle.”

You giggled and wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug, pulling him somehow even deeper into your guts.  “Thank you Daddy–fuck! Fuck, oh my god, how do you do that?!”

“‘m not doin’ anything, honey. That’s all you, openin’ up for me, pretty boy.” Joel cooed, slowing his thrusts to sharply punctuate his words. “Such a good boy, openin’ up that pretty cunt for me. I only got so much dick I can give ya, y’know.” 

Easy for him to say when he’s not the one taking it. Because what he sees as only “so much dick” to give, taking it feels like so. much. dick. 

“Fuuuck, Daddy, god, Daddy, you’re stretching me out~!”

“Shh, sh, pumpkin, it’s okay… you’re okay… You’re okay, keep squeezin’ it. Keep squeezin’ it. Mmm, hold onto Daddy, now—gooood boy…”

You flexed your inner muscles, all of your body’s strength around his cock, determined to milk this motherfucker dry. Your brain had no room for rational thought. You were overtaken by one desire, one primal urge that unites and drives all life on this planet: breed, breed, breed. 

All you wanted, all you needed, to feel was him shooting a big warm batch of his babies into you. You had no bandwith left to think, especially not with him asking you,

“What’s my name, pretty boy?”

Your answer was instantaneous, a reflex at this point, “Dadd—!“

“Nope, mm mm, nuh uh. I said my name, pretty boy… You rememb—?” Joel’s question was cut off by an unintentional clenching of your cunt around his cock. “Nghhh, Shit, shit, shit, so fuckin’ tight…*inhale*  Woah-h-h…” He panted heavily, trying to regain his composure and finish his thought. “You… You remember my name, don’t ‘cha?” 

You rifled through the folders in your brain’s filing cabinet. Everything you pulled out was blank. Blank after blank after blank. Shit. What was this guy’s name again? He definitely told you. It starts with a J right? That tracks. He seems like a J-name kinda guy. 

“Uhhh…”

“It’s Joel.”

“JOEL!” You shouted in his face, the pieces all put together, and repeated his name as a sacred rite on your way to another heavenly climax. Your one hand still clenching the poppers, your other fisted his hair. “Joel, Joel, oh my god, Joel! Joel, Jesus fucking Christ, I can’t! Joel, Joel, fuck, fuck me, Joel, I can’t— I’m gonna! C-Cum again!”

“Do it.” Joel snarled, his hips stuttering inside you, “Fuckin’ do it, cum on this dick, pretty boy, I—Yeah, fuck! Gon’ fuckin bust inside you, yeah. Yeah-h-h, oh, fuckin’ take it.”

Your orgasm, its vice grip and burst of wetness, triggered Joel’s. He sunk his teeth into the spot where your neck and shoulder met, growling into your flesh as he emptied himself into you. He gave you a few hard thrusts to kick out any lingering ropes of cum, not wanting to waste a single drop. You were gonna take everything he had to give. 

And you certainly took everything out of him.

He collapsed on top of you, his sweaty flannel against your equally sweaty tank top, his arms caging you in a delightful aroma of man-musk and sex. Post-sex endorphins washed over you both, making you feel floaty and giddy inside each other’s afterglow. Joel was the first to verbalize it.

“Jesus H. Christ, kiddo, that was… Fuck, you’re incredible. Pussy make a man feel young again.”

Sufficiently fucked, without much intelligent thought left in you, you chuckled and petted his hair. “Mmm, hehehehe, thank you~… You’re… fucking amazing”

“Aw, you’re welcome, sweetie pie.” Joel gave you a peck on the lips, and adjusted his hips the tiniest bit, though it was enough to send you into an irrational panic.

“Nooo, nonono, don’t—don’t pull out!” You cried, locking your limbs around him and keeping him anchored to you.

“Alright, alright,” Joel laughed and settled back into you, “Relax, pumpkin. I’ll keep it in for a bit. You just can’t seem to let go of your Daddy, now, can ya?”

“Nope! Hehehe…” You giggled, mind fuzzy, cunt satisfied, heart content, and sighed. “Ah… Fuck.” 

“Should prolly wipe the jizz off your face too.” Joel reached into his left back pocket and pulled out a dark blue bandana to wipe you clean. “Lemme get it for ya.”

His delicate touch with the hanky was so soothing, so paternal. You purred as the rough fabric wiped your sins away, and when you were all clean, he dropped it on the floor beside you both. 

“Alright, I’m pullin’ out, now. My leg’s cramping. And we sure as shit ain’t sleepin like this.”

You rolled your eyes and pouted petulantly. “Boo…”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m the worst.” Joel scoffed, then slowly, gingerly pulled his soft cock out of you, admiring the pool of white that followed it and dribbled onto the floor. “Ooh, wow, that’s a big load. Dumped a whole damn little league team into ya.” He gave your tender cunt an attaboy-type slap, then stood up and held his hand out for you to join him.

“Thank you,” You said, stumbling as you rose to your feet. As you reached for your discarded pants, you realized you were still holding the poppers. “Oh! This is yours.”

“Eh, you keep ‘em. I can get more. ‘s no trouble.” Joel stretched his arms over his head and cracked his neck, seemingly resetting himself after such a draining activity. “Okay… How’re you getting home, kid?”

You nonchalantly waved it off, “Oh, I’m walking. It’s just a couple blocks.”

“‘Couple long blocks?”

“Uh…”

“Gonna be sneakin’ around past curfew y’know. Mind ‘f I walk ya home? Just for my own peace of mind, honestly. Hate to never see ya again.” 

“Sure! Thank you!”

“No prob. Least I could do for ya.”

Arms linked together, you both crept through the back alleys of the QZ to get to your place. Without the freedom to talk, you pointed out which turns to make, which blocks to avoid, and which FEDRA pigs (all of them) should be flipped the bird as you snuck behind them.

“Welp. This is me,” You said when you arrived at the front door to your place. “Thank you again. For like… everything, tonight. I had a great time.”

“You’re welcome, babe.” Joel patted you on the shoulder, then looked both ways down your block. “Think you live pretty close to me, actually. I’ll have to come by some time.”

“Tomorrow evening?”

“I got late shift sewer maintenance,” Joel crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head to the side, “I can’t in good conscience come over and fuck ya after that.”

You snorted, “Fair enough. Day after?”

“Yeah… should be good. I can do that.”

“Great!” You said eagerly, standing outside your house, expectantly. Stalling for time, maybe? Joel could tell something was on your mind.

“Y’alright? Look like ya got somethin’ ya wanna say.”

“Well, yeah, uh…”

You tried to think of the most tactful way you could phrase your request. You thought you landed it with,

“Would you like to come inside?”

but you walked right into this one,

“Twice in one night? Tch, needy little whore. ‘f I were 30 years younger, maybe.”

[scarletts-scribbles]

Spice Up Your Life

⁀➷ Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

⁀➷ Notes: Just a small idea I thought could be really cute :) If anyone has requests/ideas please send em over!

⁀➷ Summary: Natasha admits to you that she never really learnt how to cook, luckily you're more than happy to teach her.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Natasha knew you were cooking from the moment she’d gotten home. The smell of oil and fresh vegetables hung in the air, wrapping her in a sweet aroma, as she hung up her coat Nathan couldn’t help but smile to herself as she made out your low humming coming from the kitchen. A slow happy tune gracing your lips.

She loved coming home to you cooking. Not only was it something you enjoyed but you always made something delicious for her and she was always beyond grateful.

Truth be told, she was a little jealous of your culinary skills. Sometimes the redhead would just linger at the kitchen door, leaning on the wooden frame whilst she watched you effortlessly guide a knife to chop ingredients or she’d come to your side and help you plate your meals. It was somewhat enchanting to her to see you in your element.

Tonight was no different. Natasha finished taking off her coat and slid off her boats, placing them on the small rack by the front door before making her way to the kitchen.

She couldn't resist the urge to sneak up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and resting her chin on your shoulder. "What's on the menu tonight?" she inquired, her voice filled with genuine curiosity.

“Well let’s see, I’ve got some fresh peppers from the market and we’ve got those left over noodles.” You explained as you continued to dice up a garlic glove, “I was thinking maybe a stir-fry, how does that sound?”

“Stir-fry sounds amazing.” She smiled and planted a soft kiss on your cheek and peered over at the ingredients. Nat pursed her lips for a moment before stepping back to admire how you navigated the kitchen so easily.

“So.” Natasha began but paused for a moment, causing you to stop and look back at her. She seemed to be blushing a little, her cheeks a darker red, “How do you know how to prepare everything so well? You do it so easily, I’ve never been able to do anything like this.” She mumbled quietly, her gaze not quite meeting your eyes. It was something you’d learnt that she did when she was embarrassed, “I never learnt how…”

You chuckled softly, turning to face Natasha, "Well, it's just something I picked up over the years. Trial and error, you know?" You noticed her hesitancy and added, "But if you want, I'd be more than happy to teach you some tricks?”

Natasha smiled widely, unable to stop the corners of her lips curling up, her eyes seemingly sparkled with excitement. “You’d do that?”

You turned to face her, surprised but amused. "Of course darling, it's never too late to start learning. How about you help me finish making this? I'll teach you the ropes as we go.” You smiled, washing off your knife before offering it out to her.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in her eyes. "Are you sure you want to risk it? I might burn the kitchen down."

“Well it’s lucky that I live with a very strong Avenger who can elegantly carry me to safety, isn’t it?”

Natasha muffled a giggle, shaking her head a little as she kissed your cheek. You returned the gesture softly before guiding her towards the cutting board, you handed Natasha an orange pepper. "Here, hold the pepper like this, and let's start with a simple chop." Your hands gently covered hers, guiding her hands gently with the knife, slicing through the vegetable as you demonstrated, “See? You've got this."

As Natasha started to chop the pepper with your guidance, she couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. "I might not be as smooth as you, but I’ve love to cook for you sometime - only once I get a little better of course, wouldn’t want to poison you.”

You chuckled, nudging her playfully with your hips, “I think I’d love that Natty.” With a wink, you handed her a pan, showing her how to heat it up and explaining the order of ingredients and how to know when each one was ready. It didn’t take long to explain your seasonings either, she was so eager to take it all on. “We could make this a regular thing if you’d like? Start making meals together from now on?”

Natasha's eyes lit up with excitement. "I'd like that very much," she replied, a genuine warmth in her voice. As you both continued to cook together, the kitchen filled with laughter and the sizzling sounds of the oil. It was the beginning of a new tradition, where the joy of cooking intertwined with the joy of being together and you couldn’t be more proud of the progress she’d made.

✧･ﾟ: *

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[fabricated-misslieness]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: tyler owens x male reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: years ago, you broke up with him for his reckless lifestyle. now, when he's come back without changing a bit, you don't know why you let him back into your life.

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.65k

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: angst, death is mentioned and tyler gets close to it not explicitly, kissing, swearing, baby as a nickname for your lover, lot of made up family members + names

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: cowboy slang vocabulary, yes it's 11pm, yes I wrote this in a day, yes I'm in bed, yes Glen Powells is hot

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Tyler Owens likes to live what others might call a dangerous life, although he much preferred to call it a life of thrill.

He started it off as a bull rider for a rodeo, and though by the end of it he was regarded as the star bull rider and sometimes even the star of the show, there was a big learning curve that ended him with a couple (something closer to four dozen, really) kicks on the ol' noggin. Luckily, none of it sprouted within him either physical or mental problems by the time he decided he wanted to move on; his mother always said he had a thick skull, anyway.

After the less dangerous, still excruciating years in university, he came out with a meteorologist degree. And what did he do with it? He became a storm chaser.

A peculiar fact that came with it was that even after landing a more dangerous job, he sustained less injuries than bull riding by a substantial amount. Suppose the thing is that the moment he gets his first serious one, he's likely done for.

You've been through it all.

You met him before he even started this life, in high school; your first kiss was at his bedside after a particularly harsh fall and kick, you persisted through the busier university schedule, and you supported his dreams to be a storm chaser.

But at the height of it all, after the first scare when the anchor mechanism on that old truck of his failed to stop the car from turning onto its side, you decided you two were over.

It was definitely selfish. You didn't want to be close to him when, and you said when, he died. You decided it would be a lot less grief on your end, and you know what? He understood you.

For years, you've been grateful for him. As much as you've been his anchor, he's been yours...but he'd have made you a widower, even if you were married or not, and you just couldn't take that possibility.

If you're caught in the disastrous thunderstorm he'll leave behind, you're not sure you'll ever make it out.

You hope you'll never find out.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

"Get your ten commandments out of my soup!"

So why did you let him walk back into your life?

"I'm sorry! Hey, don't hit me with that ladle!"

You're not sure.

You point the utensil at him as threateningly as possible, although it's practically the same thing as pointing a spoon at him. "I don't need you for a taste-tester, Owens, you best take note of that."

"Yeah, yeah," Tyler's body is shaking with laughs, even as he lifts his hands up in surrender. "yes, sir."

You roll your eyes, bedrugingly turning your back to him to keep chopping vegetables. Tonight, you'll be sharing this soup with the whole family, and you're currently trying your damnedest to make it good. That means avoiding whatever seasoning boiled Tornado Wrangler digits will bring.

Tyler leans back to admire you, no he's not looking at your ass, work away. It feels oddly domestic, even if he's sitting down like a useless husband watching TV on his recliner.

That feeling of domesticity is piled on further when he hears the sound of innocent laughing outside.

"You sure that kid's not mine?" Tyler suggests for the second time, gesturing out the back door with his head.

"Haha." You laugh sarcastically, not even giving him the satisfaction of turning his way. "No, my sister just so happened to marry a blonde. Even if she was somehow ours, I would've never kept you from her."

Of course you wouldn't have. You're too good for that.

The kid outside is your niece, a twelve year old girl shipped out of bustling New York City to the backdoor of America for being "too addicted to her phone", as your sister says. Despite her self-proclaimed hatred for the outdoors, she's actually having a lot of fun with the ranch dogs, who indulge her when they're not working.

Even though he's in no way related to the kid, and even if you and him could never biologically create anything together, he swears she looks just like if the two of you had a love child, which makes his heart swell all the more when she sees her.

"If we could've had one," Tyler begins, standing up to begin a slow, silent walk towards you. "would you have rather they be a boy or a girl?"

"Don't ask me that." You say with a laugh, meaning you're refusing to answer only because you don't want to have prejudice.

"Okay, fine, then." He settles behind you, pressing his chest to your back. "Huh."

"Huh, what, cowpoke?"

His hands are settled on the edge of the counter on either side of you, trapping you in. "I thought you'd flinch."

"I learned to expected the unexpected around you, Tyler Owens. Never a day went by that you didn't surprise me, so I decided I'd simply never be surprised."

Tyler sputters out a laugh. "Oh, hobble your lip!"

"It's true." You reply, offhandedly, fully concentrated on chopping some carrots, and Tyler hates that because you're not giving him attention.

So he opts to do something you'll obviously never expect and prove you wrong. He leans down to press his nose against your neck, and you think he's only going to kiss it, but instead...

Thbptttttt!

"Ew, Tyler, you did not!" It's a miracle you have the self-restraint to put the knife down, let alone only push him away and not slap him on the face. You clutch the spot where he just blew a raspberry and instantly regret it, recoiling away from the feel of his saliva like it's acid.

Tyler laughs. Despite your best efforts to push him away again as he approaches, he only dodges your hands and traps you against the counter again. His plan is accomplished, as he now has you facing him.

"You asshole." You snarl.

Tyler only smiles. "Yours, all the same."

He leans down to kiss right where he'd blown that raspberry, collecting most of his own spit on his lips and saving you the trouble of cleaning it himself.

Even when you wipe off the rest of the spit you'd previously touched on his sleeve, he laughs.

"What am I going to do with you?" You sigh, cupping his cheek and tilting his gaze towards yours.

He's a damn bastard, having the audacity to grin at you as if he's won some kind of victory. "Kiss me."

So he's a puppy, then. Licking you like it's a way of kissing and expecting a proper kiss back. "No, you don't deserve that."

He rolls his eyes, though his eyes find yours immediately after. "Yes I do. Kiss me."

You don't know why you let Tyler Owens walk back into your life like nothing happened. You don't know how you let him kiss your neck, or how you let him even ask to kiss you, or how you're even being friendly with him.

Scratch that, actually. You don't know why he kissed your neck, why he wants to kiss you, or why he's being friendly with you.

You walked out of his life, for God's sake. You walked out of his life because you feared dealing with the aftermath of his death.

He's a tornado. Tyler Owens, the tornado wrangling cowboy, is a tornado. He's a fire twister, even, the worst of the worst, a category F5. The damage he'll leave once he dies out won't be devastating, it'll be incredible.

That's what you're trying to avoid.

"What's wrong?" Tyler's smile has faded, his expression sobered up. Of course he can still tell when you're lost in your own thoughts.

"Nothing." You shake your head, wipe your nose to hide your sniffle and thus let go of his face. "Hey, how about you go check up on Sophie? My sister would kill me if she got hurt."

"Right, sure." He can sense something's wrong, but he withdraws anyway, respecting your decisions. He always does that, and you hate him for it, because he's so good.

You watch him head out the back door, and even as he closes it, you watch on.

He's too good for you.

When the distant sound of the boiling soup catches your ear, you inevitably tear your eyes away.

Right, let's make the best soup there ever was.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Tyler had unknowingly picked the right time to show up at your front door when he did.

"Aww, come on, you didn't have to make such a big fuss," Your great uncle speaks with those sloppy dentures of his, but even with the wet sound of his gums and lips, he sounds entirely endearing. "Tyler's back! This party should've been his."

Tyler's always been the life of the party ever since you brought him home for that first Thanksgiving (his "trial", so to speak), and that apparently hasn't changed.

"Oh, no, no, you're kiddin' grandpa!" Tyler only raises his glass from where he's leaning against the punch table. "It's your birthday! Hell, I didn't even bring a gift!"

"Your fine ass is all you needed to bring." Your famously single aunt grins and sends a wink, holding a glass full of wine she snuck in despite all the children around.

Tyler directs his own glass towards her to thank her, his smile never waning. "Oh shush, aunt Delilah."

As Tyler greets the family one by one, all of which clearly miss him, you're in the corner of the room pointing out each of them to your niece.

"Those are your cousins...I think. They're your mom's cousin's kids, and well...whatever, they're Jonas' kids. Becky, Jake, Bean–"

"Bean?"

"Sorry, his name's Nick, we just call him Bean 'cause one time as a toddler we found him sitting on a sack of raw beans, shovelling them into his mouth."

"That's crazy."

Even after you've named every face in the room and sent Sophie away with a pat on the head to mingle with her...cousins, Tyler's still talking to everyone.

Your heart burns like you've had some of uncle Dick's famous dripping fried chicken at the sight of it because nobody's ever like this when it's just you.

It's not even about the fact you're forgotten, it's a big family and you have your own close group of cousins in the middle of all of them, it's the fact that they missed him.

While you're distracted, your mom pulls you down to sit beside her on the couch, where your dad is telling another story of his. Many of your aunts and uncles and distant cousins are gathered around him, listening intently, but as you actually hear the contents of his speech, your attention fades away. It's one of those stories he always tells, about how the crop cycle was ruined until he had this eureka idea.

Distantly, you hear Tyler droning on about his whole tornado wrangling cowboy thing, explaining his latest feat like it's nothing but a regular Tuesday. He's got a lot more people gathered around him than your dad; not to discredit your dad, as he's doing his best trying to compete against Tyler in storytelling, but you know how that will end.

You kiss your mother on the cheek and stand up to find your more amicable cousins, only to be interrupted by your aunt Sissy, Delilah's sister.

"Hey, darling! How've you been?" She calls you over and immediately slings an arm around your neck, holding you close and rubbing your cheeks together in greeting.

"Good, good." You say immediately, an instinctual white lie as you wipe her transferred makeup off your cheek.

She doesn't even notice you're lying to her, maybe doesn't care enough to notice, before she's nodding her head towards Tyler and his crowd. "I'm so happy you're back together with Tyler, he must have so many new stories to tell."

"Um, actually, auntie," You try to correct her, then bite your lip, pausing suddenly to think. It'd probably be a lot better if you let her believe you were back together, but you've already dug yourself into saying actually. "we're–"

"Hey, auntie Sissy!" Tyler suddenly appears beside you like he wasn't just across the room, leaning down to gracefully accept the cheek kisses in greeting. He somehow comes out of it without getting stained. "How have things been? The old cat still slinking around the neighbors' yards?"

The two of them exchange a few words before he's slinging an arm around your shoulder, "Can I borrow this one real quick? It'll just be a sec."

"Sure, sure!" Whether an insult to your presence or a compliment to his coercion tactics, she's more than happy to let the two of you go. "Don't let me hold up your fun."

You're grateful for him steering you away from the party and out onto the front porch, but you're also dreading being alone with him after the whole thing in the kitchen.

Tyler doesn't seem too far off.

"Whew, I did not miss being around your family." He breaths out, leaning against the porch's railing.

The whole dread fades into confusion as he says that, and you lean against the spot beside him. "You didn't?"

"No...well," He shakes his head, "I missed hanging out with them. I did not miss having to tell them every single detail about where I've been since I've last seen them."

"I thought you liked telling them stories." You hummed, turning your gaze from the scenery ahead to him.

"Eh...I much prefer intimate crowds." He sends a wink. You flush and try to turn away, but he catches your cheek and stops you.

Tyler knows something is wrong, has known since you discreetly pushed him away earlier today in the kitchen. Looking into your eyes only further convinces him.

"What is it?"

"Nothing."

His eyes narrow. His stupidly beautiful blue-green eyes narrow at you, and you know you can't lie anymore...but you can deflect.

"Did you know your eyes are blue and green?" You ask, lightly tapping his hand that sits on the railing.

"(Y/N)."

"Blue rim. Green...center? No, that's not the word, the inner? God, I don't know." You shake your head, and despite the movement, his hand doesn't leave your cheek.

"(Y/N)."

"They remind me of the classic scenery." You hold a pointer finger out. "Blue sky, green lawn, right? Or the Windows default wallpaper. Both are iconic."

His other hand leaves the railing and takes your other cheek. "Baby, look at me."

Baby. You used to hate it when he called you that, you weren't some baby, but now...now, how you've missed it.

You sigh, closing your eyes momentarily to collect yourself. No more deflecting and no more lies. You actually had to talk about your feelings now.

It had taken a lot of courage the first time, telling him: yes, I still love you, I'm just selfish and think that if you die, you'll take me down with you; no, I know you won't actually kill me, but you'll take my soul with you, and that's practically the same thing, isn't it?

"You don't have to tell me anything." Tyler speaks up before you do, beckoning your eyes open. "You just have to tell me to go away again, if that's what you want."

"No," You instinctively say.

"No," You say immediately.

No. No, how could you? You did once, and you're not sure how.

"Stay." You say, because you want it, you want him to stay.

"Okay." He says it easily, and his hands fall to his sides. He's willing to take that, just that, because...you don't know, maybe he still loves you. You're not willing to admit that.

You're not willing to accept that he still loves you after you told him you wanted to break up.

You take his hand before he can walk back into the party. "Why'd you come back?"

"I..." Tyler almost shrinks back, but you intertwine your fingers, and now you're the angler reeling him back in. "My car got flipped onto it's roof."

"Baby." You breathe out, pulling him in, pulling him closer to you, almost like he's not living flesh in front of you and you need to make sure he's breathing by feeling his chest heave against you.

"I was in the hospital for a little while...just some cuts." He assures first, to not worry you. He grabs both your hands, presses his nose to the knuckles, inhales the scent of their sweat like it's that of an apple pie, and it's weird but he needs it. "The glass broke, obviously, all of it, and some of my equipment, and, well, fuck, it was worse than a couple cuts."

"Ty."

"I'm okay, you see? Not scarred. I'm tough." He lets go of your hands momentarily to do a little twirl for you. He looks just the same as you left him.

"You almost died." You say anyway.

"Yeah." He doesn't deny it, he can't lie, because he can see through your lies as well as you can see through his. "I wanted to see you again, because...I wanted to see you in case the next time I got into an accident, I actually died. And you know what? I feel selfish for it."

"What? No." You shake your head, step closer. You're about to say more, but he starts first.

"You told me to stay away, but I came back into your life and I acted like nothing happened. You know, the life you're living? It's kind of what I wanted for us. A little ranch, some cows, some dogs, a farm. We get our own milk, our own eggs, grow our own food, and it's just the two of us..." His fingers climb up your arm like a little spider, and his gaze follows it absentmindedly. "Until we decide to adopt a little girl. You drive her to school, I drive her back home. We're happy, raising her. We teach her not to be like us, and she still turns out an exact replica of us, anyway. She's our princess."

"Sophie?"

"Sophie."

He sniffles. You tear your hand away from his only to cup both of his cheeks with your hands. "I'm so sorry, Tyler."

"No, I–"

"No, shut up." Despite the severity, you laugh, and he does too, until you're speaking again. "I shouldn't have left. I should've stayed right there with you. I'd have been right at your bedside, you know? I'd have kissed you like the first time. Remember what I said?"

He laughs again, "That my breath tastes like cow shit?"

"Yeah, that." You grin at him, and he loves to see you grin like that again. "I was selfish."

"I understood you completely, though. I thought I was saving you the grief." That's why he let you leave so easily, and you realize it now, looking into his eyes. "You were right. You always are."

"I'm not, Tyler. I was wrong." You shake your head, "I thought it worked. Weeks went by when I didn't think about you, because I fought the memories of you back. A year after, it settled in that I wouldn't be seeing you, so I thought I wouldn't even think about you anymore, but...the memory of you, your smile, your kisses, your warmth resurfaces every month, and god, I missed you. And missing you without the possibility of having you is just grieving you."

"...and now I'm here." He leans a bit further away, and you see all of him. You see the way his blue-green eyes are glassed over, and you've no doubt yours are the same; you see the familiar way his hat is perched above his head and how he still wears the top two buttons of his shirt undone and how his smile is just the same.

"And now you're here." You nod.

He places his hands over your wrists, holds them, presses his nose against yours. "I missed you too."

"Mhm?" You hum. Your breaths mingle with his, pressed this close together.

"And I love you, too. Still do."

"Fuck." You laugh, a teary little thing, but it's real and genuine and not a figment of his imagination. "I love you too."

And then you kiss, and he's missed it so much, and you've missed it so much, the two of you. You're slotted together, like pieces of a puzzle. You're not you without him and he's not him without you.

When you part, you wipe a couple stray tears off his cheeks, and he does the same for you.

"Should we..." He chokes a little on his words, then shakes the nerves off. He has you back, and his smile returns. "head back?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we should." You find yourself leaning back in, anyway.

You share another kiss, maybe two. If he'd brought a friend or three along, he'd have signalled them to light the fireworks in his truck to add a little magic to it, even if it already feels like fireworks are going off between your lips.

You could spend eternity like this.

When you've had enough of each other for the moment and finally head back in, your great uncle raises his spoon at you and laughs. "There you are! This soup is amazing, kid!"

Or at least that's what he would've said, had his dentures not gotten stuck in a hard carrot and splashed right back into his bowl.

One of the carrots which you added last, thanks to Tyler's distraction earlier today.

The tornado wrangler of a boyfriend you've regained is laughing his ass off beside you, while you cringe. So much for the perfect soup.

"Come on, (Y/N)." Tyler wraps an arm around you, pulling you close, and you're so happy he can do it casually again.

"Let's get us a bowl."

[happy--for--attention]

How they spend Valentine's Day with you

Bo, Vincent, Lester, Rusty, Chop top, Nubbins, Drayton, bubba, brahms, and Harry

Bo

To be honest he forgot about it until either Lester or Vincent brought it up, lucky for him it was still rather early in the day so he told you that he'd be heading into the next town over to run some errands. He came back with some yellow roses, a card, and a small box of chocolates (He might even try something new in bed for you)

Vincent

Vincent was nervous as this would be your guys first Valentine's day with each other and he didn't want to mess it up and ruin everything. He gave you small wax figures of you, him, and jonesy and a few sketches he thought were worthy enough, maybe next year you'll get some poems

Lester

Like his older brother Lester was also quite nervous he had this whole night plan, he was gonna take you on a nice pretty picnic dinner date with all of your favorite foods but just as you both sat down that's when you felt the rain drops start to hit your head. Lester was so bummed that the picnic went south, you both decided to watch a movie instead

Rusty

Rusty made sure that he would have Valentine's Day off he took you out to a small but nice diner and then drove around for a bit before he drove back to the house. Where he then led you into the bedroom for you to find a bouquet of wild flowers, pink champagne, chocolates, and teddy Bear (and some condoms)

Chop top

He made sure to brush his wig, put on his best vest and grab your favorite records from his collection for tonight. You and him relaxed in his room listening to all the records you could, dance to them every now and then

Nubbins

He used his best roadkill to make you a pouch so you could match him!! He even filled it up with all his favorite photos of you sure some of them were blurry or inappropriate but it's the thought that matters. He even asks if you'd stay up and go roadkill hunting with him.

Drayton

Drayton hates this damn holiday it's just a scheme those big companies made to steal the money he worked hard to make but now that he has you? It didn't change his opinion at all he's not going to buy you anything, but he will make the god damn best chili you'll ever have in your life. Though if he's feeling nice he might go to town and buy some ingredients to make his own chocolate (keyword might)

Bubba

Bubba doesn't really know what to do for Valentine's Day he's never celebrated it before and he never thought he would but he'll try his hardest to make it a good Valentine's for you. He picked some flowers for you from the side of the road and fields, he even did his chores extra fast so he could spend the rest of day with you

Brahms

You think he's clingy now? wait until the morning of Valentine's Day he's basically attached to your hip, the only time he's away from you is when Malcolm arrives to deliver the groceries and your surprise. In one of the bags there was some of the finest wine and chocolate money could buy from this town. Brahms stayed up just a little past his bedtime to order them for you

Harry

You're going to spend Valentine's Day alone as much as he'd love to spend it with you, he does have a town to terrorize. That's not to say he won't spend the next day with you, in the morning you'll wake up to a card and heart shaped chocolate box on your kitchen table and who knows he might Even take you on a date to the mines

[goldfades]

38. "stay with me, please? i need you tonight. maybe for the rest of my life, if you're generous."

with jamie!

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 | jd⁹

♡ ─ word count | 1.6k

♡ ─ warnings | hurt/comfort, ANGST!! jamie being an asshole (but it was lowkey justified), mention of his injury/trade :((, thats all!

♡ ─ ev's notes | okay listen i forgot the prompt but the last few paragraphs basically describe what the prompt conveys if that makes sense, i still hope u enjoy it nonnie 😭🩷

Jamie had a pretty hard season, with him moving to Philadelphia unexpectedly and him being injured had really gotten to him. He's spent the last two weeks at home recovering and trying to get better as soon as he could, he wanted to be back on the ice as soon as possible. His injury added another layer of frustration. The pain, both physical and emotional, weighed heavily on him. Hockey had always been his sanctuary, and the forced break on top of the trade felt like the whole universe was against him.

You entered the condo, sighing with exhaustion. The last couple months had been frustrating for you as well, but it didn't even come close to how Jamie was feeling. As you entered the small condo, you heard the shower running and assumed it was Jamie.

You put down everything and began starting on dinner, Jamie probably hadn't eaten anything except breakfast. You were worried for him, more than you could ever express. You'd always had faith in him even in the lowest of the lows but he had never been this low in his entire career. He'd always been a determined person but right now, it really did feel like the odds were stacked up against him.

You wanted to do everything in your power to make him happy again, even if it was for a fleeting moment before the world closing on him again. The smell of a home-cooked meal began to fill the air as you moved around the kitchen, chopping vegetables and preparing a comforting dish.

As you worked, your thoughts lingered on Jamie's struggles - the trade, the injury, and the emotional toll it all took on him. You understood the importance of hockey in his life, how it served as a source of purpose. Tonight, you wanted to provide not just a meal but a reminder that he wasn't alone in this struggle, no matter what happens.

As your timer beeped, indicating that dinner was ready, you set the table, adorned with comforting dishes. The shower turned off, and soon Jamie emerged, his weariness evident in his movements. You gave him a warm smile, opening up your arms for a hug.

"I made your favorite,"

He slumped down to your height and embraced you tightly, sighing. You let him hug you before he slipped away from the embrace, and you could feel the tension in his shoulders as he did. The weariness in his pretty eyes spoke volumes, but so did the gratitude for the effort you put into making the evening a little brighter.

"Thank you," Jamie murmured, his voice a mixture of fatigue and appreciation. He walked over to the table and sat down as you brought waters from the fridge before sitting with him.

"How was your day?" You asked gently as you settled into the seat, glancing up to watch him.

"It was fine." He responded shortly as he began eating the food, avoiding your gaze. You knew he didn't want to come off bitter but it stung, you tried your best to not to take it personal. "You?"

"Oh, you know, the usual," you replied with a light chuckle, trying to maintain a casual tone. "Work had its moments, but nothing too exciting. I did manage to catch up with Maya over the phone today, she said she missed us back in California."

You knew you had messed up as you heard Jamie's fork hit the plate, the sound echoing throughout the apartment. Shit, I shouldn't have mentioned California. You looked up and caught his tired gaze as he sighed.

"I'm sorry," you offered softly, regret lacing your words. "I didn't mean to bring up anything that might upset you. It's just habit to share little updates about people we know, you know?"

Jamie took a deep breath, and you could see the effort it took for him to compose himself. "It's okay," he finally replied, though the strain in his voice betrayed the words. "I just... miss the way things used to be."

His vulnerability hung in the air, and you felt a pang of empathy. The unexpected move to Philadelphia had disrupted not only his career but also the familiar life you both had in California. You reached across the table, gently placing your hand over his. "I miss it too, Jamie. But we'll make new memories here. It just takes time."

He sighed and pulled his hand away from yours, your chest squeezing in hurt. He took the fork and continued to eat, choosing to stay silent. You didn't know why he was being so distant, so cold. You hated it but you couldn't resent him for it, you knew it wasn't his fault. That still didn't mean it didn't hurt, though.

The room seemed to shrink with the silence, the only sound was the clinking of cutlery against the plate. The unspoken tension between you and Jamie hung heavy in the air and despite your attempt to offer comfort, he withdrew further into his thoughts. As he continued to eat in silence, you couldn't shake the ache in your chest. The distance, both physical and emotional, left you feeling like a spectator in Jamie's struggle, unable to bridge the gap that seemed to widen with each passing moment.

You had never had this problem with Jamie before, he communicated everything he felt so that it was easier for the both of you so this was new territory. What had changed? Why was he retreating into this new, silent version of himself? The questions lingered, unanswered, amplifying the sense of helplessness.

With a heavy sigh, you set your fork down, the clatter against the plate echoing the unease in the room. "Jamie," you began tentatively, your voice soft but carrying the weight of your concern. "I hate seeing you like this, I just want to help."

Jamie had finally slammed the fork down, looking up at you with agitated playing on his face. "You can't fucking help me, Y/N. Do you get that, is that simple enough for you? I can't breathe around you without you looking at me and trying to analyze it and help me. You look at me like I'm some kind of burden you need to carry, and I'm sick of it."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, the raw emotion behind them stinging more than any physical blow. It was a side of Jamie you hadn't encountered before, and the harshness in his tone took you aback. There was silence as you both stared at each other and you saw the regret slowly seep into Jamie's expression.

You took a moment to collect yourself, swallowing the lump in your throat before finally speaking. "I never meant to make you feel like a burden. I just care about you, and seeing you struggle hurts. I thought we could face it together, like we always have."

He lowered his gaze, a visible conflict playing out in his eyes. The regret painted across his face was palpable, and for a moment, it seemed like he was grappling with the weight of his words. "I know I messed up," Jamie finally admitted, his voice softer now, remorse evident. "It's just... everything feels like too much right now, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry, baby."

The pet name rolled off his tongue like honey as he spoke and you could see the old Jamie come back slowly as you gazed at him. You nodded, acknowledging the complexity of the emotions that had fueled his outburst.

"Everything will be easier if you just talk to me, Jamie." You paused, choosing your words carefully. "I want to understand, Jamie. I want to be there for you," you continued, your voice gentle but firm. "We can face whatever it is together. Just talk to me. Please."

He sighed, the conflict in his eyes softening. "I know, Y/N. I just... I'm not used to all of this. The move, the injury, it's like my whole world got turned upside down, and I don't know how to understand it."

You reached across the table, your hand finding his. "We'll figure it out together. You don't have to carry it all on your own. I hate seeing you hurt like this, baby."

He squeezed your hand, the warmth of the gesture was filled with gratitude. "I don't want to push you away, Y/N. I just... I've always been the one who had it all figured out, you know? But this, it's different. It's overwhelming."

"You don't have to have it all figured out, Jamie. We'll navigate through this together. It's okay not to be okay, you don't have to play the part because at the end of the day, you're just human."

He nodded, a mixture of emotions flickering in his eyes. "I'm just scared of losing everything, of losing myself in all of this mess."

The weight of his fears hung in the air, and you leaned in, your thumb gently caressing his hand. "You won't lose yourself, Jamie. I'm here to help you find your way back. We'll take it one step at a time."

For a moment, he hesitated, the weight of vulnerability hanging in the air. Then, slowly, he began to open up. The words spilled out, frustration, fear, and the overwhelming pressure he felt. As he spoke, you listened, offering support.

After the conversation, you laid next to him in the bed, his head laying on your chest. The silence was comfortable as you both began to seep into sleep, enveloped in one another. Your fingers gently traced soothing patterns on his back as you held him close, your presence a reassurance that he wasn't alone ever.

The soft rhythm of his breathing matched the steady beat of your heart, as Jamie shifted slightly, his fingers finding yours in the darkness.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[kcrossvine-art]

Heya folks! Its been a bit, food insecurity is a bitch, but today on the quest of cooking our way through Lord of the Rings we're gonna be making a dish exclusively mentioned in the 2007 MMO-

We will be making a Rohan Pasty! 

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes into a Rohans Pasty?” YOU MIGHT ASKBasics. Meat n potatoes of your meat-in-dough food. .

All-purpose flour

Salt

Baking powder

Vegetable oil

Olive oil

Ground beef

Garlic salt

Ground cumin

Chili powder

Dried oregano

Waxy potato

Garlic

White onion

Egg

"A delicious local pastry filled with beef and potatoes."- LOTRO Rohan is a kingdom of humans in middle-earth, and the description point towards a cornish pasty (yes, pasty not pastry). Oddly enough the image is more of an empanada but you win some you lose some. This heritage informs much of the shape and ingredients of this dish, however we're opting to cook most of the ingredients before adding them in, contrary to going in raw as a cornish pasty calls for. I chose to deviate here because cooking beforehand allows more seasoning to be crammed in. The english hate seasoning.

AND, “what does a Rohans Pasty taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASK

Tastes like the best pot pie youve had, less soggy

Excellent for an after-rugby/martial arts/soccer dinner

The potatoes are foundational

Despite needing the least work

Pasta salad (cucumber, olives, pepperocini) would pair well as a side

And would also pair well with beer

This meal bears the gold star sticker of not having any major issues! Hooray! Maybe its increased comfortability in the kitchen, or maybe its because of how very simple this one is. Chopped roasted bell pepper might be good in the filling in the future.

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Get the dough ready ahead of time- its mentioned in the recipe below but i also wanted to say a foreword here that it needs to sit in the fridge for a few hours. Just so ya dont get everything out and realise itd take too long for dinner tonight. Speaking of dough, i feel like it could have more flavor added to it. Its bland and although its not part of the tradition of the meal its based off of, cornish meat pasty, it might be nice to add some spices like cumin or black pepper to the flour. 

The meal reheats perfect- wrap in papertowl and put it in the microwave for 30 seconds per pasty.

When picking your potatoes make sure theyre "new" potatoes (baby ones) or whichever potato with the least amount of starch you can get. Its important for it to cook inside the pasty that it not have too much lest it get Mushy Bad.

Another thing about its real-life inspo; Cornish pastys were workers food, stuff you could carry into the mines, stuff thatd reheat well. You could hold the crust with your dirty hands and throw it away once you ate the rest. I always feel partial to these foods. Although I'd still eat the dirty crust.

This recipe earns a solid 8/10 (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) 

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Dough Ingredients:

370g all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking powder

74g vegetable oil

240g warm water

Filling Ingredients:

2 tablespoons(ish) olive oil

1 pound ground beef

2 tablespoons tomato paste

Garlic salt to taste

Ground cumin to taste

Chili powder to taste

Dried oregano to taste

5 cloves garlic, minced

1 white onion, diced

Method:

Combine flour, salt and baking powder.

Add oil and water into mixer with dough hook running at medium speed. Mix for 1 minute, stopping several times to scrape the sides of the bowl.

When mixture comes together and begins to form a ball, decrease mixing speed to low. Continue to mix just until dough is smooth.

Take the dough ball, safely wrap it, and transfer to fridge. Let sit for at minimum 2 hours.

For the meat, get a large skillet, and add some olive oil over medium heat. Add the ground beef and garlic salt, cook until the beef is cooked completely.

Drain the beef and set aside.

In the same pan, add the garlic, onions, cumin, chili powder, oregano, and salt.

Cook until the onions are softened but not brown, 10 to 15 minutes. Re-add the beef and cook over low heat for about 5 more minutes.

Back to the dough, transfer dough from fridge to well-floured work surface. Roll into log and divide into 10 equal portions. 

Preheat oven to 350f.

Form each piece into a ball and flatten each with a rolling pin.

Add a layer of diced potatos down the middle of the pastys. Add the meat filling to each. Fold the sides of the dough up to seal on top in the middle.

Gently turn the pasty on its side and crimp the edge, alternating a braid pattern. Use knife to cut an "X" shaped slit in the top. Repeat for each pasty.

Place the pastys on a greased baking sheet. Lightly coat each pasty with an eggwash using a basting brush.

Cook for about 50 minutes, or until golden brown, and let cool!