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joelsgoldrush · 2 months

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“GUILTY PLEASURE” | 8.6k

logan howlett x fem!reader

“I want this like a cigarette / Can we drag it out and never quit?” Guilty Pleasure by Chappell Roan

SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.

WARNINGS/TAGS: smut - mdni 18+ fluff, angst, drinking, dirty talk, slow-burnish, grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader, reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes, age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age), oral sex (f receiving), fingering, finger sucking, soft dom!logan, wade being the funniest asshole, logan calls reader "kiddo/kid"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.

** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.

*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)

**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)

special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever

The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.

Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.

Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you.

Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.”

Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.

The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend.

You:

cutie patootie alert

there’s this really handsome guy at the bar

i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before

i think i’m in love with him

my night just got a 100% better

Allison:

age

what does he look like

is he bald?

You:

he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here

brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong

i didn’t stare at him for too long

otherwise that would’ve been very weird

and no he’s not fucking bald

that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair

Allison:

so you’re dating retired now

get it grandma!

You:

oh fuck you allison

Allison:

it’s okay girl we all have our flaws

just make sure it’s nobody’s father

wait it’s not mine right?

You:

nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it

Allison:

bitch

Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.

“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.

The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”

Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”

Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss.

Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”

The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.

“Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”

Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.”

“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”

Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.

“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features.

“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”

(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)

He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.

“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”

“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules.

“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up.

You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.

“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”

Yeah… that you knew.

It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.

As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.

“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.

“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”

“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”

For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”

“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.

“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”

His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”

“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”

“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”

“Look, Wolvie. I–”

“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”

“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”

You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.

Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”

The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”

“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”

“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”

“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”

A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”

“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”

“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”

“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”

Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”

“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”

“Me neither.”

“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”

You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”

Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”

But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.

(But you aren’t.)

His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”

“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”

Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”

“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”

“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”

As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.

What the fuck had just happened?

“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”

She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”

You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”

After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.

Your savior complex strikes again!

It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail.

Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”

Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.

“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”

“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”

“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”

You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”

“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”

“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.

Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.

“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients.

“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”

“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?

“You sure?”

“Affirmative.”

“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”

“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”

“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.

“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”

“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”

Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”

Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.

“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. “Do you need anything?”

Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”

“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”

“What? No.”

“Why not? She’s cute.”

Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.

Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”

“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.

After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”

You could die at peace.

“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”

“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”

“Now why would you think that?”

“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”

“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.

“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”

“I don’t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”

“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.

He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”

Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”

His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”

This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.

“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.

“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”

You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.

Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.

Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”

You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”

“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment.

Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”

“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”

“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”

Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”

“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”

“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”

“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”

When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”

“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you.

Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”

“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”

From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”

“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”

“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”

“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”

“Go fuck yourself, will you?”

“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”

Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?

Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.

“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.

You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”

Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”

You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”

He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?

“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”

He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him.

“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”

You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”

The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”

“I just... I want to understand you better.”

“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”

He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”

With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.

“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”

“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”

The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his.

Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”

Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”

But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”

Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”

You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”

He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”

“Should I give you some space?”

That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”

“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”

“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”

“God, do you ever shut up?”

You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.

“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat.

“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”

“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”

“Am I that easily replaced?”

“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”

Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.

Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.

He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?

It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.

Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?

“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.

“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”

The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic.

“I’ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”

“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”

You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.

“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”

“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”

“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”

“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”

“Careful.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”

You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”

His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”

“Get your hands off her.”

Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on.

“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”

“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”

Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?”

The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”

“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.

“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.

“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.

“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”

“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”

The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”

Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”

“Don’t. Now is not the time.”

“I was protecting you.”

“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.

Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”

You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”

“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”

“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”

His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”

“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”

You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days.

“I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.

“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”

In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.

“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”

“Right here? On the counter?”

“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”

“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”

“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.

“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”

“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”

“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”

“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”

His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”

“L-logan–”

“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”

You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”

With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you.

“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”

He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble.

“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”

“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”

Who had given him a damn script for this?

The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.

Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”

And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.

“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”

You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”

��Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”

You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”

Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”

part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”

dividers by: @cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

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ladadiida · 1 year

Text

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

#opla #opla x reader #opla x y/n #opla x you #one piece #one piece live action #opla sanji #one piece sanji #one piece live action sanji #sanji live action #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #opla sanji x reader #sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji x y/n #angst #one piece sanji x reader #ਏਓ ladadiida

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sleepyjuice · 2 months

Text

toxic!rafe will blow your phone up the second you post something on instagram that he’s ‘iffy’ about.

you posted a photo dump which consisted of some random photos of the beach, some of your friends, one of you and rafe of course, but the one that had rafe seeing red was the last slide, which was you in a bikini. he texted you several times at first, and while you were literally typing your response, he called you. your fingers were typing so fast to respond to him that you accidentally declined the call, and he did not like that. you immediately went to call him back, but another text from rafe rolled in, saying ‘fuck you don’t talk to me we’re done’ you sighed loudly, knowing damn well he was talking out of his ass right now, so you sat back and waited for the inevitable next string of texts to roll in. which they did, only seconds later.

rafe <3: do you get off on making me mad or something

rafe <3: like i’m racking my brain trying to understand why you do the things you do and that’s all i can come up with

rafe <3: and i see at least 4 guys have already liked your post like that’s crazy to me?? thought i told you to block all the guys that followed you?? of course you didn’t

rafe <3: also who even took that pic of you??? bc i know damn well it wasn’t me so who the fuck you posing for with your fucking ass and tits out? WHAT THE FUCK

rafe <3: DO NOT PUT YOUR SHIT ON DO NOT DISTURB answer me rn.

rafe <3: nah it’s cool actually i’m gonna go hit up my other gfs so you have a good night.

you rolled your eyes at that last text, deciding to fully turn your phone off. you knew he would likely try to text or call you again very soon but you didn’t want to deal with it right now. this wasn’t your first rodeo, you knew nothing you could say to him right now would calm him down, so letting him freak out on his own was the best method to his madness.

three hours had passed since you turned your phone off. you had caught up on some reading and turned on your current favorite show, but found yourself interrupted by a knock at your front door. you expected it to be rafe, but instead it was a large bouquet of your favorite flowers and a gift bag. you glanced around to see if rafe was lurking around, but saw nothing. when he freaked out over text and was able to reread his actions, he usually waited a bit longer to show his face as opposed to a verbal argument.

you brought the flowers inside and set them on the counter before grabbing the card attached to the side of the bouquet.

sorry we argued. you are so beautiful and i love you so much. got you a little gift and sent you some money for food and i set your appointment with your nail girl for tomorrow at 10. love you forever baby -rafe

you couldn’t help but smile just a little. the flowers were beautiful and the note was pretty sweet, so you chose to ignore the part where he said ‘we argued.’ you didn’t get a word in, but you let it slide. especially after you opened the gift bag to see the new dior bag you had been wanting.

you hurried to turn on your phone, immediately seeing a $500 apple payment from rafe as well as a new text from a few minutes ago.

rafe <3: hope you like the flowers and bag baby. love you! :)

you: i love them. thanks rafe, love you too

rafe <3: good to hear. lmk what you end up getting for dinner and i’ll pick you up tomorrow to take you to your nail apt. can’t wait to see you baby

you would order yourself dinner that was obviously way less than $500, but you would send rafe a picture and thank him again. you’d facetime him before bed and conversation flowed like nothing had even happened just hours before. he’d ask you what color nails you were getting, tell you funny stories about the old men at the country club and excitedly plan what you two were going to do the next day. the cycle seemed like it would never end, but you often forgot about the bad when he was talking so sweetly to you and all you could think about was how excited you were to see him tomorrow.

#rafe cameron #toxic!rafe #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x reader #rafe imagine

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1-800-kami · 1 year

Text

R U MINE? feat. gojo satoru

gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it.

that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…

“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”

IMPORTANT: part two is out! read here :)

content: 8k words, afab!reader, angst! fluff! heartbreak! n everything in between! implied smut, rich college frat boy gojo and hellcat driver geto 🤑, emotional rollercoaster, reader has a toxic ex, trust issues (?) gojo is absolutely insufferable, misunderstandings, use of words hoe, slut, etc., mutual pining, some jjk character cameos (wink wink) me writing very unfunny dialogue, no bc wtf is this, cheating implications, emo gojo (the worst warning of them all)

author's note: hello hello! my name is kami, i've been reblogging fics on tumblr for a while now but i've recently figured out how to work this hellsite, so i'm going to start posting fics that i write! thank you to those who enjoyed my nanami drabble <3 kisses 4 u all.

this fic IS split into two parts and there is smut in the second part. so just. prepare yourselves for that ig.

reblog and interact for a kiss ;)

“so… let me get this straight.”

“go ahead.”

shoko takes a deep breath, and you just somehow know that she’s pinching her nose in exasperation right now. “utahime dragged you out to a party in hopes that you would hit it off with somebody. you wander off on your own and later, she sees you and gojo–THE gojo satoru–giving you his number?!”

“uh, yeah. that’s exactly what happened.”

“do you even understand what you’re getting yourself into?! that man bags hoes like they’re pokemon!” you readjust the phone against your ear and sigh at shoko’s comment.

“okay, first of all, never say that again. second, i rejected all of his advances. i didn’t even save his number.” you stare at the crinkled-up note in your hands, which proudly displays his number and a slick call me if you change your mind ;). you wonder if you could sell this paper to his fangirls–you’d surely make a little bit of cash out of it. “i’ve seen gojo around. i know that i shouldn’t mess with him. plus, he was drunk as hell at the party; i doubt he even remembers my name. to him, i’m just some chick that he’s frustrated at because she didn’t want to fuck him the second she saw him.”

“do you… do you share any classes with him?”

“i don’t think i do.. just, don’t worry about it, okay? i’ll throw away his number and we can put all of this behind us. here, i’ll do it right now.” you rip up the paper into a few pieces before tossing it in the garbage can. hopefully, you did it loud enough that shoko heard it through the phone. “i get that you’re worried for me. and i appreciate that, but i can handle myself.”

“just… no more mention of gojo anymore, okay? you’re right, y/n. let’s just put this all behind us.” shoko sighs, and you smile at that. problem solved. you threw away his number, and he’s most likely moved on to the next girl by now, so that was that. now, you just have to forget about satoru gojo.

all to never let yourself get hurt ever again.

it’s hard to forget about gojo.

not because of those dangerous blue eyes of his–getting anyone lost in them if they stare for too long. not because of his stupid silvery white hair, which makes him look like a mop, and sometimes like a paintbrush. not that stupid cocky grin of his, either…

...but because you’ve recently found out that he sits next to you for physics.

the revelation was truly disheartening. you thought you could avoid him for the rest of the year because as far as you knew, you shared no classes with him. however, you completely forgot about the fact that gojo never attends class in the first place, and you don’t even know what classes he’s in… because he’s never there. so finding out that the seat next to you in physics wasn’t just an empty seat, and it was gojo’s assigned one, was truly an experience.

“gojo.” the name alone makes your heart stop, and you drop your pen to look at the man your teacher was addressing. “finally choosing to attend class for once?”

speak of the devil.

there he was, in all his glory–the man you’d never thought you had to deal with ever again. the man who tried to butter you up with his corny sweet talk so that you would go home with him for the night. the man who persisted with talking to you, even though you were barely interested. the man, who, at the end of the night, insisted on writing down his number for you in case you changed your mind about him and gave him a chance.

you wanted to shrink into your seat and never resurface.

“good morning, yaga!” he says rather loudly, with no regard to honorifics at all. a few giggles could be heard across the classroom–though geto suguru’s voice was prominent–satoru’s equally as infamous bestfriend. “and yeah! it’s surprising, isn’t it?”

what’s also surprising is how gojo took a seat next to you. you thought that there was a mistake, that your teacher would scold him for sitting somewhere he isn’t supposed to sit and relocate him elsewhere. however, yaga just grumbles and begins the lesson, leaving you helpless and unable to look at the man next to you.

you swear he’s burning holes at the back of your head.

pleasdon’tremembermeisweartogodpleasedon’trememberme-

“you’re that girl from the party, right?” he whispers, and you’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your life. you slowly nod your head, turning to look at him, and he pouts. “y/n l/n. you never saved my number. hmph, i was looking forward to a text from you, too.”

“i’m surprised you even remember me, 'cause you were fucking wasted that night.” you twiddle your pencil, averting your gaze from the man. “and i never saved your number cause i threw the paper in the trash. it’s probably at a landfill somewhere, y’know.”

your words catch him off guard, and you laugh at how surprised satoru looks. it seems that’s definitely not an emotion he shows often. despite his initial reaction, satoru swears he could feel butterflies with the way your laugh sounds.

“not a common problem for a womanizer, huh?”

“what did you just call me?!-”

“y/n and gojo, do either of you have something to share with the class?” a dark blush of embarrassment covers your face, and somewhere in the back, you could hear geto snickering. gojo just smirks at yaga, seeming completely uanffected. “then i’d suggest you stay quiet the rest of this lesson. don’t make me separate you two.”

“i’d prefer that, actually…” gojo huffs at your comment, thinking of this as a lost opportunity if the two of you get separated. he does a once over at your appearance. you’re cute, but definitely not the party kind. you’re playing hard to get, and gojo finds it adorable–not a lot of girls go that way with him. however, gojo thinks you’re not just like any girl. there’s something different about you that intrigues him.

“did no one ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?”

“how could i not? you’re so cute.”

“i thought you already learned from the party, gojo. i’m not interested in you.”

the light blush coating your cheeks says otherwise. he smiles cheekily at the way you tried to hide your reaction to his words. you’re an enigma to gojo… and he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he thinks he’s made his decision.

he’s gonna do whatever’s possible to get your number.

when the bell rings 30 minutes later, you shove your notebook into your bag, eager to finally leave the class that you had with that stupid paintbrush. that is, until he stops you with a question. “what class do you have next?”

he’s relentless. “why do you care?”

“i want to walk you to your next class,” he says, and smirks before saying his next words. “it doesn’t really matter if you tell me or not. i’ll just follow you anyways.”

you sigh, absolutely exasperated with him. he’s like a fly who keeps invading your personal space—always coming back no matter how many times you swat it away. he’s right, though. damn him for being stubborn. “i actually have this period free.”

“oh, sweet!” he chirps, walking with you out the door, making sure to greet geto before he leaves the classroom. “let’s go to the courtyard. i’ll buy you a drink from the vending machine-“

“i was gonna do that regardless if you were here or not.” you give him a look, and you can’t help but tug on your sleeves when you see people whisper to each other as you walk the halls with gojo. of course you’ve heard the rumors. the man next to you is the most popular guy on campus. girls glare daggers at you and the guys call his name, although he barely even acknowledges them.

some common things that you’ve heard about gojo around the school are: “i heard he only talks to girls for sex,” “apparently his best friend geto is just as much of a player!” “i mean, who wouldn’t fuck a guy like gojo, though? he’s hot and loaded.” “that’s how he reels you in, though. he gets his hand in your pants and never calls you back again.” you know you should stay away from him, it’s common sense, but it’s hard to stay away from him when he’s the one who glues himself to your side.

“well, now you’ll get a free drink and we’ll get to know each other! isn’t that great?” he smiles and you just grimace at his words.

“i don’t need your money…”

“don’t care! can’t hear you!” he says, and you’ve seriously considered just making a run for it. at least you’ll lose him, and you’d finally be able to find peace for a bit. although, it would cause a scene, and gojo would probably end up finding you again somehow.

“what can i do to get you to leave me alone?”

that piques his interest, even though he looks slightly hurt by your question. he thinks for a bit, and smirks. “i really do want to buy you something from the vending machine.. and i want you to spend your free period with me. i’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day if you do.”

“do you promise? like, actually?”

“mhm! pinky promise!” you feel like you’re talking to a prepubescent boy.

“then sure-“ you’re about to agree, but he cuts you off with one more condition.

“i also want your number.”

you feel like you’ve been cursed by a god, because having the most popular guy on campus be interested in you has got to be the most chaotic thing to ever happen in your life.

“what do you have me saved as?”

the question comes from out of the blue, and you look up from the book you were completely absorbed in. you and satoru were at the school library, on a “study date” as he calls it, although it was more so just gojo inviting himself to wherever place you go, as per usual. this time, you have an exam to study for, and you explicitly told him not to bother you unless absolutely necessary.

you do have to say, though, he’s not annoying as you thought he was. he just nagged you way more the first day he sat next to you in physics so he could get your number. it’s been a few days since then, but still, you’d definitely be more efficient in your studies if you didn’t have him attached to your hip all the time.

“satoru, i told you not to bother me-“

“unless absolutely necessary. yeah, i heard you, and this question needs an absolutely necessary answer! contact names really say a lot about our relationship, y’know.”

“relationship? nobody ever said we were even friends-“

“don’t break my heart like that, babe. plus, you don’t call me gojo anymore! it’s satoru to you now,” his heart warms at that realization, and you scoff, especially at the pet name. “we are friends, unless you’d like to be something more...”

“if you say anything else i’m calling you by your government name. gojo satoru.” he looks especially wounded by that.

“ah! don’t do that, please. it feels like we’re a married couple and you’re really mad at me.” he cries and you can’t help but giggle at his words. you decide to entertain him a little bit, fishing through your pocket to find your phone.

he almost passes out at what he sees on your screen.

“it’s just my number? you didn’t even save my contact?!-“

the shushes from your fellow students and the librarians aren’t even enough to calm gojo’s agony and despair. it also does nothing to stop your laughter, either.

from that day on, gojo’s contact was forcefully changed from his number to “satoru” (he initially added a heart, but you deleted it, much to his disappointment) and one of his many selfies from his stupid instagram account. how the hell can a college student even have thousands of followers?! you think.

gojo just says that nobody can resist his shirtless post-workout selfies. you’re surprised that you didn’t slap him at his words.

you push him away.

everytime gojo buys your favorite drink, (it’s always on him, despite your genuine insistence in saying that you could pay for your drink just fine.) everytime he walks you to all of your classes each day, (he memorized your schedule just so he could do this) everytime he buys you your favorite foods on the rare instances that you let him take you out for lunch, (usually, this requires a lot of begging, and you mostly relent during class when you’re just exasperated and wanted to get some notes down.), and everytime he calls you by those stupid pet names of his, you think back to what the entire student body says about him, and you think back to your phone call with shoko, where she warns you to not associate with him so you don’t get hurt by anyone ever again, and you push him away.

you push him away even when you realize that if he just wanted you for sex, he would’ve stopped chasing after you when you didn’t text him after that night at the party.

and that thought alone scares you.

still, you’re not heartless. satoru’s been asking to take you out for a while, and you finally agreed to go today. he’s especially chipper about your agreement right now, walking with a slight pep in his step as he bit around his ice cream cone.

the park boasts some beautiful scenery today, and little children are out and about. still, you underestimated the weather, and the cold uncomfortably nipped your arms as you internally cursed yourself out for wearing just a shirt. you crossed your arms as a subtle way to shield yourself from the cold.

“don’t play coy with me, y/n. are you cold?” satoru says with a cocky grin, and you huff at his question. surprisingly, he drops the teasing act and unzips his sweater, handing it to you. “here, take it.”

“satoru-“

“i’m not doing this to flirt or whatever you’re thinking right now. you’re shivering, and i’m just concerned for you, so please wear it.” he deadpans, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him be so… upfront? you kind of like it. it’s not him teasing you or him being flirty. it’s just him showing that he genuinely cares for you as a friend. you take the sweater with a nod and put it on, ignoring how your heart is thumping as you take in his signature smell. cedarwood with a little bit of musk. it’s not an overpowering scent, but it still envelopes your senses.

“nevermind. you look so cute with my hoodie on. i feel like we’re in a j-drama right now, y/n!”

you take back everything you just said.

a few minutes later, you two are near the kids playground when you decide to take a break from walking, sitting on a nearby bench with gojo. the chirping of the birds and the wind passing through the trees is quickly overpowered by loud crying. crying from the child right in front of you, in fact.

you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but satoru beats you to it. he kneels in front of the kid, and coos, “hey, buddy. what’s your name, hm?”

he stops crying for a moment to look at gojo and shakily responds, “gumi-um, megumi fushiguro..”

“megumi, huh.” he clicks his tongue for a moment. “why are you crying, megumi?”

“i-i don’t know where my dad is!” he cries, and satoru looks to you for help. you just shrug, unsure of what to do with the lost kid, until gojo’s face lights up, assumingly with a great idea.

“he’s most likely just around here somewhere. you can wait with us, and we’ll help you find him! say, do you want an ice cream to help you feel better, megumi?” the boy hesitantly nods, and satoru gives him a thumbs up as he takes him to the nearby ice cream stand. you’re watching this entire scene unfold, absolutely enamored with gojo for the first time. you didn’t think he had a natural talent with kids—but the way he’s making megumi laugh while he happily snacks on his ice cream says otherwise. an outsider could look at you three and assume that you’re just a happy family.

you try to ignore how that makes you feel.

and as you wave goodbye to megumi once he eventually is reunited with his father again, (an intimidating man who gave you two an appreciative nod as he walked away with his son.) you realize something as you tug on the sleeves of your-satoru’s sweater.

you’re in love with gojo satoru.

and fuck, that revelation scares you more than anything. the last time you had given your heart to a man, he had crushed it repeatedly until you decided that you would never let yourself be vulnerable like that ever again.

and now, you're in love with your school’s notorious playboy—and it feels like you’re setting yourself up to be heartbroken again. you want disregard those rumors and shoko’s words so badly, but they still eat at the back of your mind even though the real gojo satoru is right in front of you, and he doesn’t match the characteristics of the gojo satoru in those rumors at all.

you also remember that he has one real best friend, geto suguru. you like to think that this is also what geto sees in gojo. the reason why he’s stuck around.

the reason why you want to stick around too.

you’re so busy in your head that you’ve just noticed gojo frantically waving his hand in your face. “earth to y/n? oh, good! i thought you had, like, a shock reaction from seeing megumi’s father. he looked a little scary, no?”

“he looks like if a muscle came to life and started talking.” you whisper, and he laughs in agreement. burying your hands into the pockets of his hoodie, you smile. you don’t want to think about your current revelation with gojo right now. instead, you’ll stick with the present. and right now, you like the present.

you just don’t want to think about what this means for your future.

it’s the weekend, and you’re doing some work at the local cafe, gojo-free for once. only god knows what the man is doing at three pm in the afternoon on a saturday. not like you should be thinking about him right now, though. his presence alone has caused you to be behind on your studies, and you need to make sure you catch up.

you have to admit, you were a little unused to the silence. usually, the silence would be filled with gojo’s endless banter with you, as well as his terrible, corny jokes that are so stupid you can’t help but laugh. his seemingly never-ending presence was annoying at first, but now, you’re starting to yearn for his company.

it further fuels the pit of uncertainty in your stomach, and you hate it.

shaking your head with a sigh, you take another bite of your pastry and continue typing up the report on your laptop. the looming thought of this report’s impact on your grade and the need to pass this class helps you forget about satoru for a while. once again, you get lost in your academics.

the ring of the cafe bell breaks you from your trance. it was a natural impulse of yours to glance at everyone who entered the cafe, but once you did this time, you felt your heart drop down to your knees.

it was your ex.

your ex boyfriend who destroyed the notion of love for you, because he made you feel it for a short time, only to throw it all into a pit of fire and leave you scrambling to find nothing but ashes.

if you had to find the true roots as to why you’re so afraid to pursue a new relationship–you always find your ex in the center of it. and now, he’s right in front of you. you have to face him again when you refuse to shamefully admit that you’ve barely even healed from the emotional scars that he’d left behind.

you feel as if an invisible hand has wrapped itself around your throat, blocking your airways and your ability to speak.

out of all the days satoru wasn’t here with you, it had to be this one.

“y/n? is that you, sweetheart?” you wanted to vomit at the way he said your name. he had no right to say it so sweetly, when all he’s ever left behind is venom.

“i don’t want to talk to you.” you cringe at the way your voice cracks, and you avert your gaze from him.

“please, just hear me out for a minute, baby..” he coos, and you hate the way he talks to you as if you were a child. “i know i fucked up, and i can’t change our past… but i can change our future together. if you take me back, i’ll show you how much i’ve changed-”

you don’t know how many times you’ve heard that stupid line before.

“god, you sound like a broken record with how many times you’ve pulled that bullshit on me.” you spat, loud enough to draw commotion in the cafe. your ex has surprise written all over his face–most likely due to your non-compliance to his words. “what, do you say that shit to all your hoes?”

your ex looks around, shrinking a little when he sees all eyes are on him. “now, now, y/n, no need to be like that-”

“be like that… be like that?! you’re telling me to be civil when you’re the one coming in here wanting me back, spouting some bullshit saying that you’ve changed, when i told you to leave me alone already!” you scream, and you could feel the tears bubble up in your eyes. you look down, so you aren’t able to see how everyone’s staring at you with pity. god, you hate pity. it makes you feel weak and vulnerable. the two emotions you absolutely loathe. “i just want you to leave me alone, god. i hate you, why won’t you just-”

“you fucking bitch-” he makes a move to lunge at you, and you instinctively take a step back, pure fear enveloping your senses.

you never feel the impact, though, as you see your ex being restrained by the cafe worker.

you remember him. the man who took your order earlier. he was an older man with a warm smile on his face, although you noticed how his cheekbones were slightly sunken, and he looked a little overworked. you jokingly quipped earlier that he should get some sleep before thanking him for making your order. he just replied, i get that quite a lot.

the size difference between your ex and the man is enough to discourage him from fighting back. he makes quick work your ex, dragging him out the door while he hysterically screams profanities to you on the way out. you assumed the worker threatened to call the police, because your ex scrambled up from the ground and ran away. you hoped this was the last time you would ever see him again.

“are you okay, ma’am? he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

you didn’t even realize that the worker was back inside the cafe. everyone was gradually returning to their own businesses, with the eerie silence being replaced by casual chatter once more. you also didn’t realize how much your hands were shaking, and you huff out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “y-yeah, i’m alright, and he didn’t hit me. i just… need a minute,”

you decide that you aren’t gonna get anymore work done like this, so you pack your laptop into your bag and slump onto the seat with a sigh. you bury your face into your hands. “is it a long story?”

“oh, don’t even get me started.”

he laughs at that, and you ease up a little. “i told him i’d call the police if i ever see him around here again.”

“that’s good to hear. though i’d prefer if i never see him in my life ever again.”

he hums at your words, and he turns to look out the window. “it’s getting dark out. do you want me to call you a cab?”

“no need, i’ll call my boyf–my friend. i’ll call my friend. he’ll uh, pick me up.” you’re still so shaken up you barely even register what you said to him. your eyes are frantic as you turn your phone on and look for gojo’s name in your contacts. you don’t know why you want him to pick you up out of everybody. you could ask utahime or shoko right now, but you just wanted nothing more but to see gojo.

the bell rings again, and you flinch at the sound. thankfully, it was just another customer. the worker sighs. “well, these orders aren’t going to be done themselves. just wave me over if there are any other problems, okay?”

you nod absentmindedly, and he turns to leave, but you stop him. “wait, sir, what’s your name?”

“kento nanami.”

“thank you so much, nanami. i appreciate it.”

“i’m just doing my job.”

“your job is restraining crazy exes of college girls and kicking them out?”

“‘it comes with the job description.” he teases, and you laugh lightheartedly. “and your name is?”

“y/n l/n.”

“anytime, miss l/n. again, just please… call me over if anything happens.”

“will do…” you say, pressing the “call” button on gojo’s contact. the anxiety is hitting you again, and you take a shaky inhale. you’re surprised at how he picks up almost instantly. “hey… satoru? yeah, can you come pick me up, please? i know i don’t normally ask you to do something like this but-”

“did something happen?”

“a lot happened, actually… i’ll text you the address. please, just come soon.”

“of course, y/n.” you could already hear him running out the door, hearing the roar of his car engine coming to life. “i’ll be there as soon as possible.”

he gets to the cafe in five.

you wave goodbye to nanami, thanking him once more as you get in the passenger seat of gojo’s car.

it’s not your first time inside here, but you still can’t help but admire how… expensive everything looks. or maybe you’re just looking around because you’re stalling, and you have no idea where to begin with satoru.

however, you notice that he’s not asking you what happened, and he’s not forcing you to explain anything to him. instead, he switches the gear shift out of parking and says, “do you want me to take you home?”

your eyes widen at his words, and you shake your head no profusely. the last thing you want to be is home alone right now, mainly because your ex knows where you live. you know he most likely won’t go that far with you, especially since nanami knocked some sense into him… but the possibilities still scare you. you take a deep breath before saying your next words.

“...can you take me to your house? i-i’m sorry for asking, i just don’t want to be alone right now cause i’m terrified and-”

“y-yeah. i’ll take you to my house.” he says, and you’ve never seen him so nervous in your life. it almost makes you laugh.

“i’ll explain everything later. i just… wanna be somewhere safe first.” somewhere safe. you find his house as a safe place. gojo doesn’t know how to react. his heart is thumping wildly out of his chest, but he makes sure to put your own comfort before his feelings.

“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he says, maintaining his cool by keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift.

“but i want to, satoru…” you say. you can’t believe you’re doing this again. you’re crossing so many territories that you were so afraid to cross because of your ex. now, you think you aren’t that afraid anymore. not if you have satoru by your side.

you place one of your cold hands on the gear stick, interlocking it with his. is he… shaking? “thank you for this.”

still. there are so many things you can’t say to him yet. you don’t know when you’ll be able to… or if you’ll ever be able to.

i love you. i love you but i’m too afraid to say it. i just hope that you’ll be able to wait for me.

“god, you’re killin’ me here, y/n.”

that pit of uncertainty in your stomach has grown so large you feel it's about to consume you whole. you don’t think you mind much, though.

the two of you are lounging at his couch after satoru insisted on telling you to make yourself at home. there’s a movie playing, with neither of you paying attention at all, takeout on the coffee table, two glasses and a bottle of wine after gojo didn’t know what drinks to serve, and freaked out by pulling the first expensive drink out from his parents’ alcohol closet. has he never properly invited someone to his home before?

“so in short, you had a crazy ex who saw you at the coffee shop… and he was begging for you to take him back, and when you went off on him he called you a bitch and tried to hit you…” he recalls, a huge grimace on his face. “tch. the cafe worker shouldn’t have let him go like that.”

“i’m sure he learned not to mess with me after getting humiliated in public.. and nanami did more than enough for me.” you retorted, and he gave you a sour look.

“oh, so you know the worker’s name now?” he says, and you could feel the tension build up in the air. oh. so he wants to do this with you? “what, is he your knight in shining armor?”

“he looks like he’s in his late thirties, satoru. i’m not into older guys,” you roll your eyes at his absurd questions and add, “what’s it to you anyway?”

“what’s it to me, y/n?” he repeats your words, and you could feel an argument coming, like you already didn’t have an exhaustive one with your ex. “you know how i feel about you-“

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” your voice is getting louder, all to hide your fear behind the implication of his words. you distance yourself from him on the couch.. much like how you distance yourself from letting satoru get too close to how you truly feel. “we’re not even together, satoru. you don’t get to control the guys that i talk to- hell, have you even seen yourself?”

you’re rambling, and all you want to do is shut up, but you can’t bring yourself to. “i’ve heard what our school says about you. y-you’re a playboy, right? and you only ever talk to girls because you wanna fuck them. i’m not stupid, satoru. i’m not different from any of them, right? you only chase after me because i’m playing hard to get and that pisses you off-“

“what… what are you even saying, y/n?” he asks, and it stops your rambling for a moment. you don’t know what you’re saying. you’re pouring out all the reasons why you’ve tried to push him away, the reasons why you were so afraid to give your heart to him. but now that you say them out loud, they sound outright stupid.

“i started coming to class just to talk to you, i memorized your schedule just so i can walk you to class every morning. i buy you all your favorite food and drinks… i had to memorize your favorites too, by the way. and i have shit memory.” he’s screaming at this point, and you’ve never had satoru scream at you. there are unshed tears in his eyes, and it’s all overwhelming to watch this unfold. “and when you called me, i drove as fast as i could to you because you never call like that and i was fuckin’ worried!”

“so let me ask you a question, y/n… would i do all these things for you just because i want you in my bed?! i’d do anything for you, and you know that!” he’s crying. the gojo satoru is crying, and it’s all for a girl. if you told this to someone in your school, they’d call you a shit-faced liar. gojo satoru doesn’t cry for a girl. he makes them cry.

“i’m sorry for being skeptical, satoru! i just can’t help it when there’s so many rumors about you wanting to fuck girls just for the shit of it – and i’m conflicted on whether or not i should believe them because i want you so bad and i’m scared you’ll end up just breaking my heart and i don’t want that to happen again-”

he cuts you off. “you… what?”

you’re confused at why he looks so surprised, but then you backtrack on your words and you gasp. fuck. why did i say that? you cover your mouth and look away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.

those stupid blue eyes that you know you can’t get enough of.

“y/n… can you please say that again? i don’t want to do anything if i didn’t hear you right.” his voice is soft now, and you swear that you’re dreaming. this isn’t real. right? i’m gonna wake up soon. you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, leaving half-moon marks in their wake. it doesn’t work, and you don’t wake up, and you know you have to accept the fact that this is very real and it’s happening.

this is the worst leap of faith you think you’ve ever had to take in your life.

“i want you so fucking bad, satoru. and i’m realizing that you’re not just the stereotypical rich playboy that everyone talks about on campus—you’re a really great guy, and i guess i’m just scared to face that-” you don’t even realize that satoru’s got you cornered on the couch, and you can’t finish your words as he slots his lips against yours. hard. it’s the most passionate kiss you think you’ve ever had in your life, and it’s got your breath taken away in seconds. holy shit.

you quietly moan against his lips as you kiss back, cupping his face with your hands and wiping his tears away. you wish this moment would last forever, but you pull away so you can breathe. you meet gojo’s eyes, and they’re clouded with lust and desire, but you could tell he’s still a little uncertain. “we’ll talk later… just take me to the bedroom already,”

gojo doesn’t need another confirmation from you, and he lifts you up to carry you to his bedroom, practically tripping on his feet the way there.

a few hours later and a noise complaint from the neighbors, it’s safe to say that gojo satoru was the best one you’ve ever had.

“god, i’m never letting you go, baby.”

he’s tracing hearts onto your bare back. it’s littered with bruises and red scratch marks just from a few minutes ago, but you’ve never felt better in your life. you stare at the man who invited himself into your life just from an encounter at a party, and you thank your lucky stars that you agreed to go with utahime that night. “is something wrong? you’re starin’ again.”

“i’m sorry it took me so long to trust you. i’ve just been scared to open up my heart again, especially after him.” you don’t have to name “him” for satoru to understand.

“i’m sorry too. i just got angry about the rumors and i also disregarded the fact that you’re scared to love again after your ex did all of that shit and-” he pauses, and sighs. “sorry. i’m rambling again.”

he pulls you into another kiss, and this time, it’s sweeter, lighter, and full of love. “i’m going to show you what it looks like to really be loved, because it’s definitely not the shitty picture that your ex painted in your head. there’s way more to it than that.”

“i love you, y/n.”

“thank you, toru.” you whisper. maybe, one day, you’ll be able to find the courage to say it back. and it’s okay, because gojo is willing to wait an eternity for you.

he’ll wait an eternity for you to teach you how to love again.

“look at how beautiful you are…” gojo says, appearing out of nowhere as he wraps an arm around your waist. you yelp, staring at your boyfriend through the mirror. he’s wearing a classic black tuxedo, with no doubt it being very expensive. it compliments the glimmering rolex on his wrist, and the thoughts running through your head about him and his outfit sets fire to your stomach.

“look at yourself first, toru… god, we should just stay home,” you tease, turning around to pull him into a deep kiss. it’s a friday, and gojo’s taking you out to attend geto’s party tonight. the two of you are going for several reasons. he wants to introduce you to his bestfriend, since you realized that you’ve never actually formally met geto before. it’ll also be your first formal “couple appearance”, as if gojo being attached to your side all the time doesn’t say enough about the two of you already.

gojo pulls away, which surprises you. you pout at the expression on his face. “as much as i want to, suguru’s been bugging about you all week. i really do think it’s time for you to meet him,”

“hmph. alright.”

“i’m tearing that dress off of you the second we get home, though.”

“satoru!”

“what?! not my fault my girl looks so damn hot all the time!”

this night is going amazing.

when satoru walks with you through the front doors, arm wrapped around your waist and the dress you picked out for tonight glimmering, you feel a little shy. the guys all whistle at the two of you, and the girls whisper amongst each other, but you and gojo don’t care. in his eyes, you’re the only girl he sees. the only girl worth being with here.

“wanna go get drinks?” he asks you, cerulean eyes showing underneath his sunglasses. you nod, walking to the kitchen with him. you’re getting severe deja vu… you can’t believe you met gojo at the last party you were at. and now you’re at another party, with gojo as your date. you scan the crowd for utahime or shoko, wondering what you would say to them if they saw you with the man they specifically told you not to mess with.

it’s alright, though. shoko was wrong about those rumors, and gojo’s proving it to you.

“satoru!” the playful voice greets your boyfriend, and you turn to see geto suguru. you’ve seen him around campus, and he sits somewhere in the back of your chem class. you haven’t really had the opportunity to talk to him, though… and he looks a little intimidating.

“you must be y/n,” he says, offering you a freshly opened smirnoff from the drinks on the countertop. you thank him and grab the drink, taking a swig.

“yup! my lovely girlfriend,” gojo lets go of his arm around your waist to grab a drink.

“you probably don’t know this, but i’ve been his wingman.” he smiles at gojo, who’s pouting, like he’s preparing himself for what suguru is about to say. “he’s batshit crazy for you, its insane.”

“oh? do tell.”

“when the two of you got together, he left me a voicemail at like… four in the morning? anyway, he was screaming about how he was the happiest guy in the world… or something.”

“that’s because i was!” you’re laughing at how unashamed satoru is about this.

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” geto clicks his tongue, pulling out his phone. “and he’s reposted you on insta to like, every drake song-”

“alright, me and y/n are gonna go dance.” he interrupts suguru, and drags you away from his best friend with a yelp. “nice talkin’ to you, suguru!”

“hey, i wanted to know more!-”

“shh, you don’t need to know about all of that.” the two of you are in the living room, in the midst of all the bodies dancing and grinding against each other. he pulls you close to him, and you feel his hot breath against your neck. “you look so beautiful tonight, y/n.”

“same for you, handsome. let’s dance, shall we?” you wrap your arms around him and just sway to the beat. you’ve never been much of a dancer, but everything feels natural as long as gojo’s with you.

suddenly, the music changes, and one dance starts playing. you two look at each other, and you both burst out laughing at the same time. “have you reposted me to this song?”

“duh. it’s a classic.”

“can’t disagree with that.” you say, finding yourself grinding against satoru while wizkid’s part plays in the background. it feels like such a perfect night–you’re pulling satoru into a deep kiss, and he shoves his tongue down your throat while he’s leading you to a nearby couch. you’re seated on his lap, mimicking practically every couple in this party tonight.

suddenly, you pull away, and you whisper, “i need to use the bathroom.”

satoru smirks at your words, thinking that it’s a hint for something else, and you give him a sour face. “want me to join you-”

you hit his chest playfully. “that’s not code for anything, you perv. i actually need to piss.”

he’s pouting at your words, but he lets you off his lap anyway, and holds your drink for the time being. “it’s at the second door in the hall to your right. be quick, please.”

“no duh. i’ve got a cute date to come back to,” you say, walking away and traversing all of the bodies that smell like sweat and alcohol. you’re a little unused to this environment, but it’s alright. you fix up your makeup in the bathroom and freshen up a little, walking back to the living room to find satoru again.

you wish you never did.

you were gone for four minutes. five minutes max. you come back to satoru, and your breath hitches at the sight.

on his lap was a random chick that looked like every other girl at this party. she was practically naked, since her outfit didn’t do much to cover her skin at all.

fuck.

you remember the first time you saw gojo at the last party you went to. the sight wasn’t that different compared to the one now. there were girls all over him, all fighting for his attention. and yet, it seemed that night, his attention was focused solely on you.

what bullshit that was.

your eyes are blurry, and the music is muffled in your ears. white noise fills your senses, and all you want to do right now is run.

so you do.

you run, not caring if gojo saw you at all or not. you run out of the party, eternally grateful that you didn’t pick out heels for tonight and settled for much simpler shoes. you run, despite the fact that you drew geto’s attention. you were already out the door before he could ask what was wrong. you run, just wanting to get away from everyone and everything. you run with no particular destination in mind. you stop running when you almost get run over on a red light, the car honking at you–screaming profanities as it drives by. it breaks you from your trance, and you sit on the curb of the sidewalk, letting all of your tears out on what was supposed to be a perfect night.

of course gojo didn’t think that you were different. you were just like every other girl to him.

stupid. stupid. stupid. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life.

when geto sees you running out the door with unshed tears in your eyes, he immediately panics. what the hell happened?

he goes through every room of the house, trying to find gojo, when he hears a bunch of commotion in the living room. he runs there, pushing past everyone, only to find a total disaster inside.

he sees gojo screaming at a girl dressed like a stripper, who was on the ground with tears in her eyes. satoru looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel with how pissed he looks. there’s a crowd forming at this point, and geto knows he needs to intervene, so he drags his bestfriend away, who looks so distraught that geto could just wonder what the fuck happened.

they’re outside now, and its significantly a lot more quiet out here compared to all of the chaos inside. all the noise is coming from gojo—who won’t stop crying, and geto has no idea what to do or where to even begin. “fuck!”

“dude, what the fuck happened!?” satoru looks like he’s feeling every emotion at once. he looks pissed, pissed enough to punch a wall, and geto’s a little afraid that gojo might actually do that–or worst-case scenario, punch him. he’s crying, and geto hasn’t seen gojo cry ever since he fell off a swing in pre-k, so what happened must be really fucking serious.

“i don’t KNOW what happened, goddamnit! y/n went to use the bathroom and some slu- some girl came up to me and threw herself on my fucking lap! i was gonna tell her to fuck off but y/n saw before i was able to and now she’s gone and she probably thinks that i’m just some cheater when i’ve worked so hard to get her to trust me and-FUCK!”

he stops, trying to calm down a little, and gojo takes the shakiest breath he thinks he’s ever taken in his life. the red in his vision starts to fade, but he still feels helpless. “i just don’t know what to fucking do, suguru.”

“i just saw y/n run out of my house a few minutes ago.” he says with a grimace, and he’s trying to figure out what to tell his bestfriend. “i’ve never seen you like this over a girl before. holy shit, you really love her, do you?”

geto thinks that gojo’s bloodshot eyes, the brutal names that he called that girl at the party, and the tears he’s shed for you are already an answer.

“this is your last chance to prove it to her, satoru.” geto fumbles through his pockets and hands him the keys to his challenger. gojo snatches them, hearing the car engine rumbling itself to life. the white-haired man thanks his best friend as he steps into the drivers’ side, with geto reassuring him, ‘ill deal with the chaos inside, you go ahead and explain yourself to your girlfriend’.

gojo swears that he’s never driven so fast in his whole life.

part 2 :)

#kami writes #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru comfort #gojo x reader angst #gojo angst #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo #gojo satoru x y/n

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dduane · 5 months

Note

Hi Diane!

I promise this will end in an ask, but I have a story to share first, if you have the time.

I’m very new to Tumblr, in fact, I was moved to finally create an account to send you this message, but I’ve been casually poking around for a bit. A quick google last summer told me that Tumblr is the best place to get Good Omens news from Neil himself, but it didn’t do the courtesy of warning me just how magnetic this particular bastion of chaotic creative internet mayhem can be. This story is one example. Fun note, when I was composing this message my husband looked over my shoulder at the literal essay I’d typed out and suggested that I maybe, perhaps, might consider shortening it to the length of a conversation that could take place in an elevator. Or in line at the coffee shop. However, i’m not one sacrifice enormity for brevity.

Your post the other day regarding the cover for your novel, Stealing the Elf King’s Roses, got me thinking. First, that it was a very genuine thing to share, second, that I wasn’t entirely sure why I wasn’t immediately familiar with your work, and third, what a fun visual challenge. I was still thinking about it when I should have been sleeping, so I decided to dig in. I almost stopped reading your bio at the ‘blah blah blah’ because I was feeling quite bad about my media literacy at that point, but then I saw that you’re well-known for the Young Wizard series.

The Young Wizard series.

I said I’d try to keep it brief and this is my best attempt. I read books 1-5 of that series during the hardest, strangest, most heartbreaking time in my childhood when I desperately needed a different reality than my own. What I found in your novels was so much better than that. Your stories, your characters, your vision, helped teach me to ground myself in my strengths, frame my reality with hope and purpose, and how to build the spaces I needed within myself to find the compassion, forgiveness, joy and peace I so desperately needed. One of the things I built within myself on my healing journey was a beautiful jeweled box. It resides in my mind just off of I-335 in Topeka, Kansas. I was driving through the flint hills on a road trip from Milwaukee to Wichita when I finally finished the long process of constructing it, so that is where it stays, shining in the sun and twinkling under the stars. This box contains everything I experienced that couldn’t come with me as I grew. Crafting it was a lengthy, emotional, wrenching process, and it’s the best thing I’ve ever done to allow me to become the person I am today. I used visit it every now and again, to make sure the jewels are still bright, but I’m very careful to not jostle the lid.

I’m recounting all of this to you because two nights ago I quite suddenly found myself standing beside my box for the first time in almost a decade. I could feel the gravel under my slipper socks as I gently opened the lid to see my copies of your books resting at the very top. I wasn’t immediately familiar with your work when I saw your name because it is so inextricable from the very fabric of how healed myself, that I accidentally let your words fall under the closed lid of the very box they helped enable me to make. Nothing else clamored to be released as I carefully pulled them out, and once more closed the lid.

So, the ask. I will be brief here - I’m an artist. Not currently working professionally as I’m exploring a different career path, but I’m usually working on a personal project or two. I needed a new one and was still intrigued by the post that started this all, so to help me process the emotions described above I made a version of a cover for STEKR and wanted to ask if I could share it with you. It looks like I can’t attach here, but I’d love to post it on my new, very empty page. It truly might not be your style, but I once again found solace in a space you opened the door to and this time I have the opportunity to share it!

Also, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

You're so very welcome! And I'm really glad the books were there for you when you needed them. (And plainly are there with you still.) 😊

And absolutely, post that cover! I'll be delighted to see it.

#Stealing the Elf-King's Roses

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fishnapple · 20 days

Text

Channelled message: The moment they fall in love with you

(lover/partner/future spouse)

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost

Book a reading with me - KO-FI (Read this post : personal reading)

1. Carnelian

I have to admit that I look like a human being but sometimes I feel like an oyster. I wish I could have their shell, hiding myself behind a sturdy, protective barrier that no one can touch me. I would feel invincible in my weakness, in the darkness that my shell provided, taking a peek only now and then. You must be getting tired of this hide and seek game that I subjected you to, to be an unwilling gamer.

But even then, you excelled at that game, just like in everything you do. How did you beat the game? You ignored the rules, of course. You didn't let me hide, and what is there to be sought if there was no hiding.

You were a magician, transformed the most dire thing into the most hopeful thing. A magician with an X-ray machine, you peered into my inner most thoughts and feelings without opening my shell.

I felt scared and rage at first, who are you to dare to do that to me? I flipped out, of course, natural reaction of someone who had been in hiding for who knows how long. I got angry, I shouted, I cried, I held my breath, and I looked at you, begging you to stop seeing me, knowing me, accepting me. I must look like a clown to you back then.

But you just smiled. A triumphant smile, the smile that someone has after searching for something for so long and finally found it. I could feel you saying this to me: "I'm not an oyster and I'm not the kind to fall in love with an oyster, stop role-playing and sit with me side by side."

And that was how I turned into a proper human and learnt to love properly. Before, it felt like I was a story teller, someone looking from afar, at a safe distance, through the telescope, peered into life. I saw myself being with you, but I didn't really know the me who was being with you, how did they feel. And you reached out your hand, pulled the telescope aside, let me become the one that I had been watching all along and let me feel what they had felt.

I want to confess, sometimes I couldn't shake this dissociated feeling about everything. Sometimes, it feels like I was dangling between two worlds. But I have something new with me, a hope, a faith, that you would be there for me at that time, pull me back to you or accompany me in whatever that world I'm in.

Note: The moment your person falls in love with you would be when they feel seen by you, for all their light and darkness, the beautiful and the ugly parts of them. They're scared of this feeling, it makes them vulnerable. You unmask them, make them come out of their shell and be their real self, no more hiding. The way you do it is gentle and considerate, but the feeling they have will be devastating. They probably are someone who is more detached and isn't too involved with everything for fear of getting hurt. But after falling in love with you, even though the feeling of detachment about the world sometimes still lingers but they will also have the faith that there's someone who can see and understand them, who they can just be and come closer.

2. Aventurine

Sometimes, I feel like a bottle floating in this vast ocean of life. People around me, they seem to float right past me. If I could find a companion, then they would just stay for a fleeting moment and then ready to move on, leaving me behind to swim alone again. It never occurred to me that I might have looked at the wrong place.

Call me childish or sentimental, but whenever I looked at you, I felt like Ariel, the little mermaid, hiding behind the rocks to sneak a glance at the prince. You seemed so sure, so fine, so stable, so fixed, so opposite of me.

While I needed to hold on to something to keep me in one place and safe, you were just there, magnificent like the sun, without a care of the world. My soul was transfixed.

Many came to me with their offers, but their light paled in comparison to you, the true light. They were like the moon while you were the sun, and even though I'm a coward, I still dare to be ambitious and aim for the sun. It's like a moth to a flame.

Your smiles were and still are the warmest. They made the cold creature in me surrender and crawled out of the dark to actually stand in the light before you. Was it a kind of reverence? I dare not to use such a heavy word. And I dared not to impose my heavy feelings on you.

The moment I saw your light, I had already become speechless. I wanted to tell you many things, the good, the bad, the silly but I couldn't find the words. And that was fine, really. I found love in the silence of our existence together.

You taught me that life was not just about constantly swimming and floating but it can also be about being still and taking in all the things around us, and taking out all the things inside us. To lay them out on a table and let the other pick what they like, making a trade. You keep something of mine, and I keep something of yours.

Note: Before meeting you, falling in love with you, this person just floated through life with several superficial connections that, at the end of the day, made them feel even more lonely than before. There is a feeling of being lost in the dark, forever grasping for something. Then the moment they see you, your composure, your stillness and your stability will draw them in, probably a moment where you will display a sense of responsibility and confidence, being there for them, being their rock. They will feel a sense of finally being able to rest, to stand still and enjoy life.

Their temperament and yours are probably opposite of each other. Opposite attracts.

The moment they fall in love will also be the moment they put you on a pedestal, a fixed place for them to look up to. And at the same time, they will want to fuse with you, to possess some of your traits while you are taking in their influences. The feeling, the desire for belonging will be the spark that ignite their love for you.

3. Agate

You want me to tell you the moment that I fell in love with you? Can I be greedy and tell you many moments instead?

I don't have a love switch in me that can switch on and off suddenly. The concept of love at first sight perplexed me.

To me, loving you feels like the spread of the ink, the water that flows slowly, the trail that we keep walking on. I felt like a piece of paper with a corner touched by the tip of your pen absentmindedly. The ink just spread slowly, but everywhere, until the piece of paper turned completely into your colour. A natural progression, the inevitable.

We debated, we laughed, we played, we dreamed, we ran, we feared. All of those moments, together, made the ink soaked deeper and deeper still, forming indelible marks on me.

I had put a lot of thoughts into this subject, believe me, about why did I fall in love with you and I had no answer, to this day still don't. I'm afraid, actually, to find the answer. What if the moment I put a definition to it, the moment the answer materialise in my head, it becomes a checklist? If the things in that checklist become untrue, will I just fall out of love with you? I'm scared of my mind sometimes, it kills the magic. Yes, I believe in magic. Even if I know that the magic trick in the show is all about the sleight of hand, but in some corners of my heart, I still believe in the real magic of the act. A part of me refuses to see the logic, the reality. Let me dream a little and don't ask me to define the indefinable, that is our love. Let things stay inexplicable sometimes.

Note: This person refused to define any moment as the moment they fell in love with you. It's a gradual progress for them. Everything you guys did together is another drop of ink (their word) making the love deeper.

They couldn't tell the beginning of it, and they are afraid of thinking about it, actually. It makes them dread the possible ending.

To this person, love is a journey, stretched through the span of their life, there is no start point nor an end point. They are highly rational and in their head a lot. Notice that they used the word "think" and "head". But they are aware that a part of them, their heart, yearn for something magical, the inexplicable and they want their love to be that way, to escape the scrutiny of their head, to leave out the logic.

4. Citrine

I had a belief that life is supposed to be an endless journey. We constantly have to keep moving, never stop. Whatever we are doing, whoever we are meeting, one day, they will all go away, leaving us, alone, on our journey. And I had been living with that belief for a very long time. Until you.

Being with you made me question if it was really necessary to be always on the move, to be alone on my journey. Yes, it's necessary to be always on the move, but it's not necessary to be alone. Just like a ship, they stop, the passengers step out, new passengers step in, and the ship goes on. But the captain and the crews won't change, they are together with the ship. And I wanted you to be the captain of my ship.

Changes are good, but having someone going along with you through all of those changes is even better, or best. I moved a lot, I travelled a lot, constantly seeking, constantly reaching. It wore my soul down. Some days, I just arrived home then threw myself on the bed, exhausted, trying to sleep to save the energy for the next day. It went on and on, the motion. I had all these experiences, all these wonderful stories along my travels that I didn't know whom to share with. I didn't have someone to hold me when I felt shaken, to whisper that everything would be okay. Until you.

Maybe the path I need to travel wasn't just to some faraway places but also to you all along. For the first time, I wanted to hang on dearly to something, someone, to you and to our relationship. To have a real home, to see myself so connected to you that the thought of leaving would be immediately banished out of my mind, to imagine myself being a parent to our children. I contemplated all of these and I saw all of these in my mind, clear as day.

Note: Before being in a relationship with you, this person had been travelling alone, constantly on the move, never had concrete, long-lasting connections with anyone. Could be due to their job and environment that they had to move a lot. It made them exhausted and didn't have enough energy for anything else.

But by meeting you, being in a relationship with you, their belief has changed. They want a companion, someone whom they can commit to and build a stable life with. Even with all the travelling, they can still feel the sense of being anchored. That's when this person falls in love with you. Now they have someone whom they can offer their love, their stories to, whom they can imagine a future home life with, who can hold them close without holding them down.

5. Labradorite

I have always yearned to be a part of a romantic fairy tale since I was a kid. Keep this a secret for me, okay? I dream of the two characters meeting at the most fateful moment, going through many hardships, longing for each other, and finally, at the end of the tale, pulling each other into an eternal kiss. And guess what, I actually have that with you! Minus the ending part and eternal kiss, we don't end, and an eternal kiss will make us out of breath. But you get the gist of it.

The first time you had to go away, I thought I would be fine, it's not like you went away forever, it was just a trip. And then, with each day, I found myself growing more restless. Constantly asking in my head, "Hey, where are you now? What are you doing?" Talking with you through the phone wasn't enough, I wished we had a telepathic line constantly connected to each other. Oh wait, maybe we do, I even saw you in my dreams.

And then you came back. That moment when I saw you, I felt something bursting inside me, like a balloon kept getting bigger and bigger inside me, pressed and stretched my outside taut. It hit me like lightning, I was a tree rooted in one place and lightning just strike down. I burst open and revealed my thumping heart inside. Was I overreacting?

I wished the place that you and I met on that day were our home so that I could play the longing character and finally welcome their lover home. Your familiar face is the face I want to see whenever I open the door. Your laughter is the one I want to hear whenever I say something funny (in my mind) or ridiculous. And your embrace is the one I want to be in whenever I realise I have someone by my side.

Note: This person might develops feeling for you for a long time but won't realise it themselves. Until you have to go away someday, it won't be a true separation. Might just be a business trip or some long vacation.

Your absence will make them feel a longing for you that they can't really explain because the situation won't be dire and serious, just a normal, temporary separation.

When they finally get to see you, all those longing feelings will come bursting out, and that's when they will realise they love you. You guys will actually do many things that they fantasise about when they were a kid. It will feel like a truly magical thing for them.

6. Amethyst

Ah yes, we can always tell our children and our grandchildren how we felt in love at a party, making them jealous of our boldness. Now I'm getting ahead of myself.

What better way to celebrate than to have someone with you to share the joy with. You're always like that to me. Whatever joy I have, whatever joy you have, we've never failed to share it with each other. And I'm honoured.

My wish had finally come true. I have achieved many of my ambitions. I can confidently say that I had been working hard and I earned it.

And that's when I saw you. I can also confidently say that you looked stunning at that party. You looked happy and I could feel that somehow our happiness was on a similar wavelength.

I have to admit, the afterglow feeling of my success made me a lot more bold and optimistic than normal. If it was the past me, I would probably have swept the attraction under many layers of insecurities and nervousness. Trying to convince myself that it was just a delusion.

But here I was. I dared to look for love. I mean, I had achieved success in different areas, there's no way I couldn't be successful in love, right? Logical, you can't argue with that (of course you will)

Deep inside me, I probably had felt that love would be the biggest achievement I could get. And I was willing to set out again, to put my effort into achieving that dream, with you.

Note: This group is strangely short. This is a person that hides a lot of their thought to themselves and they find expressing what they feel through words is difficult. They are more actions oriented. Prefer to set out milestones and goals to achieve. They consider everything good in their life is their achievement.

You guys probably meet at a celebration party, maybe you won't be there to attend the party but just coincidentally in the same space, maybe a restaurant, an open space.

They will have achieved some big milestones that make them proud and more confident, they put in their effort and now they can reap the reward.

The feeling of joy will be heightened. And amidst that celebration, they will see you and fall in love, very likely a love at first sight situation. And they will believe that they can achieve happiness with you.

#pick a card #tarot #tarotblr #witchblr #channeled message #lithomancy #pick a pile #crystals #divination #tarot community #tarot reading #witch community #future spouse #astro community #astrology

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eternalxvenus · 7 months

Text

⇢ ˗ˏˋ broken promises pt. 1 ࿐ྂ

summary: Rafe promised to take you out and spend your birthday with you, but you don’t hear from him all day and then suddenly he shows up at your door trying to explain. (angst version to my first birthday girl blurb) (title changed for series — previous title “birthday girl angst version”)

cw (for whole series): 18+, rafe x f!reader, mentions of drug use, angst, eventual smut, violence

wc: 0.6k

notes: honestly i’m thinking about making this particular blurb a series but i’m not sure though

You woke up on your birthday excited to get your day started. Your boyfriend Rafe told you the day before he would pick you up for brunch, and then you would spend the day doing whatever you wanted.

By the time you showered and were ready to go, your stomach was growling, prepared to have some delicious food. You checked your phone and saw the time read 10:45. Rafe said that he'd be here by 11:00.

30 minutes later, you hadn't heard anything from Rafe, so you decided to call him. Each of your calls went straight to voicemail. You were starting to get worried, so you decided to check social media and see if he may have posted anything. You clicked on Kelce's close friend's story and saw a party happening at his house. A few videos later, you saw one of Rafe doing coke off the table in front of him.

Your eyes start to water. He had promised you that he would stop doing drugs when you guys started dating. You knew it made him irritable and hard to be around. It also made him forgetful, which means he was probably high out of his mind somewhere and probably doesn't remember he promised to take you to brunch. Or the fact that it's your birthday.

You wipe the few stray tears off your cheek, careful not to ruin your makeup, before calling Sarah, inviting her and the pogues to have breakfast with you at your place. When you asked her about Rafe, she said she hadn't spoken to him and didn't know where he was.

The time was currently 10:22 pm, and you had just gotten home from your birthday dinner with your family. Rafe was supposed to be there too, but you had to lie and say he hadn't been feeling well. You could barely enjoy yourself. You still hadn't gotten so much as a text from him.

You slipped off your heels, but before you could make it up the stairs there was a ring at your doorbell. You opened the door to see Rafe standing there with flowers in hand.

"What do you want, Rafe?" You really didn't want to sit around and listen to his excuses.

"Baby, I'm sorry, really. Just please let me explain."

You scoffed but leaned against your doorframe, prompting him to keep going.

"Okay, so Kelce was throwing this party, and I wasn't going to go, but everyone kept messaging me saying I should at least swing by and everything since they hadn't seen me in a while. I went and it was supposed to be no more than 15 minutes, but things got out of hand..."

"Yeah Rafe, things got out of hand as in you stayed at the party and started doing fucking coke? Out of hand as in you got so high you didn't text me all day, on my birthday, while I'm worried sick about you?"

Rafe's eyes widened, obviously not expecting you to know about that. He outstretched his hand that was holding the flowers to you. "Baby I... I'm sorry. I can take you shopping to make up for-"

You smacked the flowers out of his hand and he flinched. Your voice was shaky as tears pooled in your eyes. "No Rafe! Money isn't going to fix this. Obviously, I'm not important enough for you to keep your promise. Getting high means more to you than being there for your girlfriend."

Before he could speak again, you slammed the door in his face and made your way upstairs even as he started to talk to you through the door before moving on to blowing up your phone. You blocked his number and went to bed, unsure of what was next for your relationship.

part 2

likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#rafe cameron fic #outer banks rafe #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron #obx #obx fic #obx x reader #angst #rafe angst #black!reader #black reader #divider by: plutism #black writers #outer banks #blurb #rafe blurb #rafe cameron smut #obx smut

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adoregojo · 7 months

Text

secret admirer.

hihihihihihihihi, i cannot believe i actually slept for two days in a row? wth? and also that i never did this kind of posts? im such a lazy bum mb yall, I promise I'll write a real fic soon. summary: bllk characters as your secret admirers: isagi, bachira, chigiri, reo. how they fell, what do they do, how did they confess.

isagi.y

him. just him.

you once held his shirt collar to stop him from planting flatly on the floor.

and when you walked away, you walked with his heart in your palms.

yea, just like that

but honestly, isagi himself didn't knew he was such a big sap inside

and the moment he realised you two shared a few classes was the second he almost kneeled and thanked the sky itself for this.

an absolute swoon from looking at your side profile.

he once was long gone within the abyss of daydreaming about you, he genuinely just couldn't look away.

then got called out by the teacher for being too distracted.

definitely prayed that you didn't see that.

writes your name unintentionally in his notebook.

gets so embarrassed about it later and rips the paper.

still dose it again the next day and almost ripped the whole book apart form cringing at himself.

he once was musing over you too much to the point that your name slipped out unwittingly on the dinner table.

his parents couldn't stop teasing him about it, wondering when they would see you walking down their house door.

leaves love notes in your locker almost everyday.

it's something short and simple like: "you look pretty today."

then when he goes home he'll realize how dumb that was because you literally look the prettiest everyday.

dumb, dumby.

takes time to make the first move though.

he just feels like you're way, farther away from his reach.

it's okay, he still considers himself lucky to be one of those who got admire you.

he just hoped you saw him behind all of them, even if it was a glance.

chigiri.h

omgg pretty boyyy

despite chigiri being a confident and self-reliant, the trigger words of his old injury was like a pulling a pin of a grenade to his still-raw sorrowness. something that'll always haunt him.

and what dose he dare to say when they were nothing but truthful? like a salt to his wounds, he tends to just take it and suck it up, or at least try to ignore it for his sake.

but everything flipped when you stood up for him.

from that moment on. chigiri knew that he was far a goner.

out of everyone here he's definitely the most romantic one.

reads all your favourite books and analysis it.

probably named a cat after you.

like isagi he writes love letters for you.

just a little too poetic..

it it's short then it's something like: "loving you is like breathing." or "i hope your days are filled with the same joy you give me with your existence only."

but mostly is: "my definition of love, i see the true meaning of living behind your hue of life. you shall lighten my soul with your existence alone, i was born to see you shin each day, witnessing you is a blessing from heaven itself. the day that i stop seeing you as the owner of the stars is the day my body shall vanish, yet my soul will know it way back to you. from your only and one your admirer."

what a lovesick clown.

he might be a smooth talker on the outside, but trust me the butterflies of sentimental keeps on swirling in his stomach on the sight of you.

told his mother and sister about you.

it was his biggest regrets.

because the next day his sister shouted your name in a demand for you to spend the night for the 'meeting of the future in law'.

he had to physically drag her back to the car, freaking embarrassing.

couldn't meet your eyes for a while after that.

wants to hold your hand.

like, really badly.

it's just that feeling your skin against his cold, pristine hands must've feel like the loveliest, cosiest thing.

the thoughts alone are making him go crazy.

he confessed first, just couldn't help himself.

he just hoped if you would go to the end of the world alongside with him.

bachira.m

the sunshine boy himself.

the definition of fell first AND fell harder.

it all started when the class was ordered to work as duo for a project, something he always despised.

you may say that because bachira was definitely not having the word 'smart' in his book, you'd be right actually.

but mainly since no one really wanted to group up with him.

it was embarrassing, to just sit there and wait to be picked was putting him under the lights that pointed him out as the most pitiful creature in the room.

then you pocked him on the shoulder, and asked him if he wanted to be your partner.

and when he didn't see the sarcasm reeking from you, he knew he tripped hard, and couldn't find it anywhere in his feet to back him up.

it was strange, bachira never had a company, let alone a crush.

but the signs were there, and were painfully vulnerable.

painted you in art class multiple times; you with a smile, you reading a book, you sniffing a sunflower.

maybe also you and him... holding hands or hugging...

stares at your face a way, way too long.

he tells himself it's to crave your features better and detailed.

even he doesn't believe that however.

he draws your eyes a lot.

his second favourite colour is your eyes hue.

he was never the best at writing romantic poems, and his hand writing is just........

so he insisted gets you a gift!

which is a rock.

yes you heard me, rock.

he would even paint a little face with a smile on it and leave it on your desk by the end of the day.

almost went bald from joy when you had it hanging as a small march on your bag.

and when you had a bad day, that goes unnoticed by him.

so imagine your surprise when you would find two pairs of rocks, one kissing the other who had a sad expression on it face.

that somehow that foster a blissful smile on your face. like that little action extinct any remains of the past negative you carried.

and bachira was more than happy to be the reason for your happiness.

definitely rambles about you to his mom.

and his monster.

he once ha a dream about you two smooching.

cried when he woke up because he wanted it to be real more than anything.

you two confessed first, at the same time.

and boy was he dancing on cloud nine at it.

he almost smooch you that moment and then.

reo.m

it's mister perfect everyone, cheer.

you fell first, he fell harder.

no, literally. you fell. tripped flat on the floor.

and somehow, that made the reo mikage heart move.

?????????

love at first (fall??) sight.

he definitely leaves a trail of gifts for you everywhere.

your chair, desk, locker, bag.

he switches between chocolate and flowers to letters and perfumes, necklaces, etc..

you say how he picked them?

easy, see something that reminds him of you, he buys.

and it's pretty foolish since he sees you in almost everything.

reo is convinced that you're within everything that shins beautifully.

he actually paid the teachers to let him be in the same classroom as you.

paid even more to get a seat next to you.

rip to whoever was sitting next to you.

he once heard that a guy was bothering you.

the next day the guy was the talking of school because he suddenly moved out of town due to his dad losing his job.

hm, must be karma then.

has a shrine of you.

but you didn't hear that from me.

talks about you none stop to nagi and ba-ya.

genuinely sobbed when he imagined you with someone else.

has a flight under your name.

made a makeshift doll of you so he can practice his confessions on.

had a mental breakdown of the idea of you rejecting him.

reo can the most horrible, miserable day to a human kind to live.

then he sees you smiling

BOOM

he's all happy and smiling again, also a little giddy.

you once greeted him good morning, the next day he was planing what ring would suit you the most.

had two planes to write on the sky: 'will you go out with me?' and your name next to it in a shade of a heart.

now, you definitely cannot reject that. (Please don't)

have a nice day everyone.

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock #isagi x reader #bachira x reader #reo x reader #chigiri hyoma x reader #chigiri x reader #yoichi isagi x reader #bachira meguru x reader #reo mikage x reader

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bunny-1111 · 1 month

Note

I love love love your writing! I was just re-reading “Theodore Nott who…” and possibly wondered if you could expand on how he reminds reader that he will propose when they are finished school. Kicking my legs giggling thinking about that 😂

Aww, thank you. Of course, I can. Let me know if you have any other requests!! PS I wrote a whole thing, ready to push post now. It was perfect, but something happened, and it didn't save, so I had to rewrite it the best I could, I hope you enjoy this anyway AH I'M SO MAD 🥲,

...

Theodore, at age 11, thought you were the prettiest girl in school

Theodore, at age 13, began to navigate his not-so-small crush on you

Theodore, at age 16, felt his heart in his stomach as he swallowed his pride and finally asked you out

That is where our story starts.

By 17, you got comfortable enough and started spending the night in each other's dorms; one random Tuesday morning, Theo woke up earlier than usual, you were still fast asleep. Theodore was a very productive person. If he woke up early, he would get up, make a coffee, go for a run around the grounds, come back, and shower, all before most had even opened their eyes. As he reached for the corner of his side of the blanket and moved to start his day, you felt him, causing you to stir, your brows quickly scrunching, your body automatically moving towards him; you reached for him even in sleep. Something in his mind slowed, something in his heart raced, something in his soul shook. Dropping the blanket in his hand, he surrendered to you, laying so close, gently caressing your face, feeling peace in your dream state. Then it dawned on him, if I married her, this would be the last face I would see before I slept and the first I would see when I woke up.

That's when it began.

His constant reminders of marriage.

That very morning.

When your eyes fluttered open, Theos wide eyes already met yours, it would've scared you in his eyes weren't so dreamy.

"Good morn-" you start

"Marry me" he interrupted

"What?!" you laughed out. It was too early for this

"Marry me?" he smiled

"shut up" you laughed, reaching your hand under your pillow, softly throwing it at him

"Come on, why not?" he pleaded

"Theodore, we're still in high school, that's why", you smile

"Fine, you fucking time waster, but after we get out of here, I'm gonna marry you", he insisted

You thought it was a passing thought.

Something he wouldn't bring up again.

Boy, were you wrong, he proved that time and time again over the next two years.

Sitting in class, he would peck a kiss on your cheek from behind you. "Kisses for the Mrs" he would whisper with a smile before returning to his own seat

In the great hall, he slapped Matteo's hand away as you and he both reached for the same dish. "Can't you see my fiance wants that slice?" he grits, serving you before Matteo puts it on his own plate. "You aren't fucking engaged?" A defeated Matteo retorts, arms out in confusion. "Don't start", you apologise on behalf of you and your pretend husband

In Hogsmeade, you and Pansy tried on dresses. Theodore was walking past when he saw you in the mirror. Letting himself in, he slithered behind you, his reflection joining yours in the mirror, slipping a hand down your waist. "You know, if you look this good in this dress, I can only imagine how good you'd look in white," he'd smirk, "you know when we get married," he muttered on his way to the register, leaving money, giving the workers strict instructions to charge him for any dress you bought, for them to keep the change too.

When Theodore had early morning Quittich practice, he would leave a steaming cup of coffee or tea on your bedside, accompanied by a note: " To keep you warm while I'm gone, good morning, my better half, Mrs Nott."

When you studied in the libary, you had a very distinct look of focus. He would lay a bored hand on his face, "Come on, let's go for a smoke", he whined, "No, Theodore, We have final exams soon. You should be studying. Go without me if you want" you explain, fingers pointing at text on his book, "not going without you" he said frustrated under his breath. Theodore kept testing, blabbing nonsense, attempting to distract you, staring at you instead of the open books. "Why are we wasting time? You could be pregnant by now," he said, his free hand twirling your hair. This caused you to slam your book closed, looking up at him, your eyes widening. "What!?" he laughed. "If I had it my way, we would've tied the knot last year, and we would have a kid on the way", he continued; you did nothing but shake your head and fight your growing smile.

Walking through the gardens, you pointed at some hydrangeas. "My favourite flowers" you smiled. "I know" he smiled "I'd walk down the aisle with hydrangeas in my hand," you say softly, leaning in to smell the flowers, "When we get married, I will" you say picking some to take with you. Theodore could've fainted on the spot. 'When we get married,' your voice repeated in his mind, pulling you up into a deep kiss

When you finally graduated, Theodore pulled your father aside. If there was something Teddy valued, it was tradition; he was officially asking for your hand.

Returning to you, smiling ear to ear, he suggests you join him on a walk. Reaching the tree near the Black Lake, he kissed your forehead, one hand intertwined with yours, the other hand in his pocket, fidgeting with a small box.

A box containing a ring.

That he had bought on the year prior, now all that was left to do was kneel.

unedited today, sorry for any incorrection I'm too tired to reread or edit rn LOL

in my mind me and teddy r married

him in a suit KILL ME NOW one chance PLS

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bueckers-sturniolo · 3 months

Text

the alchemy.

paige x fem!teammate! reader

word count: 2k!

warnings: uhhh, cursing? literally one suggestive-ish comment, if i think of anymore ill come back and lyk!

authors note: HIIII! this is my first time ever writing anything whatsoever, and i can’t tell if i genuinely enjoy or really hate this. you gotta start somewhere though, right? 🤔🤔🤔

go read part two here!

this happens once every few lifetimes; these chemicals hit me like white wine…

you and paige were inseparable. it didn’t go unnoticed by fans, not by any means. you were a year younger than paige, you started playing for uconn her sophomore year. as soon as this was announced, paige followed you on everything, immediately commenting on any post the uconn instagram page made about you, commenting something along the lines of just saying your name in all caps with a bunch of emojis, or even, when she was feeling bold, “Theres our girl! 🤩🙌 (or, ‘my girl’ if she was feeling silly that day),” and even on your own, individual posts about yourself, she’d like and comment some form of encouragement or a subtle compliment just to hype you up, as she does the rest of the team.

she couldn’t deny her nearly unbearable attraction toward the minute she first had laid eyes on you. even if it was over a tiny screen. the first time she saw you was when geno had shown the team videos of you playing and explained to them who you are, where you’re from, what position you play, and all other things they should know. you were around 5’10, and you were a point guard. you had gotten a scholarship to uconn, and obviously, you took it up. the first time paige physically saw you play, she knew you two would become close. not only working together on the court, during games and practices, but also, off of the court.

and you guys did. by the time the season started, you were sure you guys were unstoppable. every practice, you guys were fully locked in, becoming an outstanding duo together. that is, until, she got a tibial plateau fracture. she sat out a whopping 19 games after her surgery, and it was sad to see. she was such a powerful player, and now one of your best friends. games and practices didn’t feel nearly as good without her, but she made you promise that you’d work everyday to improve your already very strong talent, to play for ‘the both of you,’ as she said. she’d come to practices, games, and even just to your personal training sessions to provide some form of support.

what if I told you I’m back? the hospital was a drag, worst sleep that I ever had, I circled you on a map; I havent come around in so long, but im coming back so strong.

as soon as paige was cleared by doctors to begin playing again, she worked several hours, every single day. she came back as a fucking beast. since the day she got cleared and started working her ass off, she earned the nickname ‘sniper’ from you. your nickname for her was ‘killer,’ which, is kinda where she got the idea for sniper. you both were very powerful point guards. every day since she came back, you were amazed by just how hard she was working to get back up to her already impressive level of skill. and as time went on, she got even better than before. from the wise words of your guys’ coach, geno, she literally ‘came back better than she was when she was named player of the year.’

so when I touch down, call the amateurs and cut ‘em from the team, ditch the clowns, get the crown. baby, im the one to beat. cause the sign on your heart said it’s still reserved for me. honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?

one night, after a practice, you guys are sitting on your couch, scrolling on your phones in the living room of your apartment. she was over there often. you didn’t live in a dorm, but she did, so this is where you typically hung out. you didn’t get a dorm, for mainly one reason, living on campus is expensive. you personally thought that if you were gonna pay so much to live somewhere, might as well be somewhere bigger than the dorms at uconn. your parents somehow agreed, and helped you through paying for it your first few years. you’re now a junior, and paige is a senior. though, she was technically going into her junior year of playing basketball, but it was her last year as a uconn ‘student.’ over the past several months, it’s been…. flirty, to say the least. you’ve always been not ‘just friends,’ but, you never talked about it. it was just ‘normal’ to you guys. you had talked about to kk once, and the conversation didn’t really help. at all. not in the fucking slightest.

“well, i mean… yeah, we all notice it. she just…. acts so different around you…? it’s not a bad difference, per se… it’s just like, why the fuck is she so nice to you? she’s constantly like… on her knees praising you. it’s crazy, lowkey. but none of us wanna say that, so we kinda just have accepted it all season.” kk says, finally looking up from her phone at me, sitting on the edge of her bed, giving her a ‘please help me’ look.

i stare at her for a few seconds, then sigh. is it actually different? does she really do that, or is kk just exaggerating, like she always does?

“kk, i don’t- i don’t know, dude. i don’t notice it. it’s just- like-“ kk interrupts me, knowing i couldn’t find the words to explain what i was feeling, “normal to you?”

i nod, putting my face in my hands and letting out another sigh. “yeah, i get that. but, also… like, how do you not notice it? it’s like- remember that guy she said she had a crush on, like- 7 months ago or some shit?” she said, sighing.

“yeah, why?” i say, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion on where the fuck she could possibly be going with this.

“she literally flirted with you more than she flirted with him. then, she rejected him, and said there was ‘no reason behind it….’ is that not suspiscious to you? in that one picture of you guys and the weird ass dude she apparently liked, she’s leaning closer to you than she is him? does that not even slightly spark a tad bit of suspiscion?” kk says, getting frustrated that im not seeing her point here.

“i mean- no? i didn’t even notice it, kk.” I say, shaking my head in disbelief. “exactly my point,” kk says, sitting up to really try to get her point across. “she acts like she’s in love with you, and heaven forbid you notice it even slightly. i could name so many things that just, like- we have all noticed, and paige knows we’ve noticed. like, that time that one bitch was pushing you on the court the entire game, and paige eventually got pissed off and pushed her back off of you, then got a fucking technical foul over it…? or, how about when she gets drunk, she literally is all over you. like, hugging you, holding you, falling asleep on the couch with you literally on top of her? is that not somehow making you just use that little brain in your head?” kk says, and i just stare in thought. maybe she was right. maybe it is more than a close friendship.

you snap out of your thoughts as paige says your name, looking over at her. “yeah?” you say, trying to seem cool.

“are you okay? you just spaced out for like…. 10 minutes…” paige says, turning her phone off sitting her it down on her chest. “oh, yeah,” I say, chuckling. that’s fucking embarrassing, you thought. but why wouldn’t she notice it? she notices everything about you.

“y’know… you did really good today,” paige says smiling at you. you smile too, looking down at your hands, “thanks. you literally always do good, so. no point in boosting your ego any more than it already is.” you say, looking back up to meet her gaze.

“i call you killer for a reason, you know that, right? you’re fucking phenomenal.” and she meant it. you were a goddess, in her eyes. if there was any person closest to heaven on this earth. it’s you. everything about you. she couldn’t get enough of you, and if it was up to her, she’d show you just how perfect you are to her. you smile, shaking your head in disbelief. “you’re insane.”

“im literally complimenting you, idiot- how does this make me insane,” paige says, laughing. you shrug, shaking your head. “you know, you’re my bestfriend, right? like, the best, best-friend i’ve ever had? ” paige says, after a few seconds of silence. you look back up, your gaze softening, your big grin also softening into a sweet smile. kk was right, you thought. you knew what that was. you knew what she meant. she is in love.

hey, you. what if I told you we’re cool? that child’s play back in school is forgiven under my rule. i havent come around in so long, but I’m making a come-back to where I belong.

you sit in your room in silence, staring at the ceiling. you keep replaying things in your mind, things she’s said. things she’s done. you knew you liked girls, you knew you liked paige. but, at what cost? did your whole friendship form from the attraction you guys had from the start? was this random to her? were you guys ever going to talk about it? this whole situation is ridiculous. right now, paige is visiting her family in minnesota. you’ve met them before, and you loved her little brother, drew, like your own brother. he was precious to you. but, this time you didn’t go, you had to stay back and practice. which, sounds ridiculous to paige given that you’re already the best player in the world to her. but, you knew you’d been slacking on practicing and certain skills you were supposed to be good at. you didn’t want to let her down. or the team, of course. but, paige specifically.

these bloakes warm the benches, we’ve been on a winning streak. (s)he jokes that it’s heroin but this time with an ‘e.’

today, you guys had a game. you were always pretty hard on yourself, but, today was worse. paige noticed this, quickly. as she always does. right before halftime, you shoot a three. you make it, but, it still was kinda sloppy. not all of your shots were sloppy, of course. but, today you felt like shit and were on your period. you didn’t feel great, and you were pissed off that the girl guarding you was on your ass all damn game. the girl in question was no other than kate martin, who was always on your ass specifically, when you guys played iowa. it was infuriating, and not to mention that you kept getting fouls called on you by a ref who clearly doesn’t realize that kate won’t stay off of your case. as soon as half-time hits, you walk over to the bench, muttering a ‘holy fucking shit’ under your breath. you sit down, paige immediately following after you, sitting beside you.

“hey, killer…. it’s okay, i promise. you’re doing so, so good.” paige says, leaning closer to you trying to reassure you in a soft, gentle tone.

“doesnt feel like it.” you say, grumpily, grabbing your water and taking a drink of it. “i know, but hey,” she says, smiling. “you’re fuckin’ killing it. if it makes you feel any better, you scored and knocked her down because of how close she was to you, maybe she’ll back off. but…” she says, pausing. “do not get a tech because of her.” you look over at her, slowly nodding. “yeah, im trying. but, the next time she gets in my face, i’m knocking her to the fucking ground again.” you say, quietly. paige smiles, “no being too aggressive… i mean, yes, be aggressive. but, no techs.”

“yeah, yeah. okay, idiot face. i’ll try.” you say and paige smiles wider, shaking her head.

as the game continues, we’re up by a solid two points. youre now in the last 45 seconds of the game. iowa has the ball, clark scores a 3 on paige. of fucking course, you think.

kk gets the rebound, and we get the ball, finally. with now only 30 seconds left, you’re panicking. you’re losing by one damn point. geno calls a time out out to the ref, the ref granting him this and you all huddle over. paige leans over to you, mumbling a, “you’ve got this, killer. im leaving this up to you. you won’t let me down.” you smile, nodding. she smiles at you for a few seconds. she is so whipped, and it’s obvious. you’re addicting. you’re like heroin, but with a fucking ‘e,’ paige thinks.

shirts off, and your friends lift you up over their heads. beer sticking to the floor, cheers chanted, cause they said, “there was no chance, tryna be the greatest in the league.” where’s the trophy? (s)he just comes runnin’ over to me.

as the game resumes, the ball is passed to paige. 15 seconds. the time is ticking, so, so fast. paige does a pump fake, immediately passing the ball to you. you catch it, turning slightly so you can dribble around martin, who’s still on your ass. you nearly lose the ball. you’re wasting too much time time, you think. you glance up at the clock. 5 seconds. you try to think fast, then quickly preform a fake pass to paige, then as soon as kate turns her attention toward paige, you shoot directly behind the point the three-point line, and you make it. the buzzer sounds. you look over at the score counters, wondering if it’s able to be counted. they announce it is, and you feel like you’ve never been happier than in that damn moment. your entire team is screaming, all of the fans in the bleachers standing up and cheering. you place your hands on your knees, leaning down and panting while smiling. that’s when you see paige, her shirt is lifted up so her stomach is showing, still cheering. smiling ear to ear, she suddenly runs over to you from across the court. she hugs you, picking you up and spinning you around.

this type of shit only happens once every few lifetimes. who are you to deny your love for her any longer? who are you to fight the general chemistry between you two? who are you to fight the alchemy?

a/n: RAHHHHHH I HOPE YOU LOVED IT IM SORRY IF IT SUCKS ASS!!!! IF YOURE READING THIS RN I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

#paige bueckers #paige x reader #Spotify

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pinkyqil · 3 months

Text

- Devil In Disguise

Featuring: barcelona femeni x mischievous !teen reader

Summary: you finally meet your teammates but things take an unexpected turn for the best

Masterlist

Notes: my most awaited fic hope you all enjoy this and it reaches your expectations more chapter's are to come every wendays and Monday and if you guys have any nicknames we can give to this little devil I'm open to suggestions or any requests for this series feel free to send them in thank you again for reading 🫶🏾

Today was the day you finally meet your teammates least to say everything went well or as mapi would end up calling you at the end of the day "niña del diablo".

You got the opportunity too meet them for team bounding which vicky invited you too as she was one of your closest friends before joining the team.

the location for tonight's occasion was at a bowling alley which you loved very much. the girls where very welcoming to you as it took a few rounds of conversation for everyone to feel comfortable with each other before the chaos unfolded.

It was meant to be a small prank vicky got you to do with her but things went downhill on your side.

"Come on it'll be fun". vicky told you

"Are you sure?". You asked her

"Sí now all you have to do is slowly trip mapi and I'll do the rest". She told you

"If you say so".

"Let's go now". She said grabbing your hand so you both could go join the other girls.

You found yourself close to mapi who had her girlfriend close to her as she was yapping about something. it happened so fast one moment you were casually talking to jana next thing you knew had tripped a very angry defender who landed straight into vicky's bowling concoction.

It gained everyone's attention who started laughing at the harmless pranks.

"You tripped me". mapi accused you

"No I didn't. you said your best trying to contain your laughter as vicky pulled you in for an high five.

"You can't lie mapi she got you smooth like butter. Patri said this time around approving of the trick you pulled on mapi who was still laying on the floor with sticky popcorn butter surrounding her.

"Your one lucky diabol".she told you

"But I didn't do anything".You told her with a wide grin on your face

"W-What why are your trying to deny it we all saw you trip me and Vicky's stunt".

"We didn't do anything I think your just very clumsy".

"You little mierd-".

"Mapi no". Getting interrupted by her girlfriend this time.

"See Ingrid sides with me". You stated as you started teasing her

"Oh you little diablo". She said before launching herself right at you grabbing your left foot taking you down with her.

"Mapi". you yelled out getting surrounded by the sound of laughter coming from your teammates.

"Hahaha I'm definitely posting this". Vicky said as she pointed out her phone that was on film the whole time.

"You wouldn't do that".

"Yes I would". she said laughing

"Then I guess you wouldn't mind joining us". You yelled out before pulling her out joining the pile that was formed.

The whole room busted put laughing once again due to you silly tactics.

"Peak comedy the nena already as it out for you three". patri said

"She's the devil alright". Mapi voice echoed the whole room as she got up.

"No soy solo un león atrevido". You said

"Bravo she speaks spainsh everyone".

"claro que te hago imbecil ". You spat back

"qué". This time around it was your captain alexia who had been observing the whole thing without saying a word until now as she dragged you by your ears.

"ah ah I didn't meant it". whining as you were currently getting scolded by your captain on your first outing.

"This all gold el diablo ya se encontró en problemas". mapi said bursting into laughter

"Keep talking and your next maría". alexia told her

"Lo siento". You both said at the same time apologizing to your captain.

"Good I don't want to hear any insult to adults even though that one there is quite childish". She told you.

"And you too maría I don't know why your whining when we all saw you fall on your own feet". alexia spoke up using the same joke on her friend that had everyone laughing again.

"Yeah mapi". You said

"No me caí fue ese diablo". She said looking annoyed at you.

The rest of the night felt magical to you it felt like all the girls welcomed you with open hands feeling like a true family barcelona was. You spent the rest of the night getting to know each one of the girls before heading home but you had one more trick in mind before your taxi came.

You were heading outside with everyone after taking some photos and that where you decided to trip mapi on your way out. but this time you got her off guard which she wasn't expecting thinking you were done with your devilish acts. for tonight but she was absolutely wrong.

"niña del diablo". she yelled out as she fell on the ground for the second time. hearing your teammates laughter once more

"Adios buenas noches a todos". You yelled out running at full speed getting inside your taxi before mapi could catch up.

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chimielie · 4 months

Text

“I really like this place,” Yachi says brightly, “the owner is really nice, and he doesn’t mind when I take ten minutes to decide what I want. Once I took twenty minutes and he actually just brought me food, like, decided for me, and at first I thought that was so nice! Then I got worried that maybe I should be upset that he didn’t let me choose, but then I remembered that I could just come here again so I wasn’t missing out on anything. The food was really good, anyway.”

You hover between the cool interior of the restaurant and the summer daylight as she speaks, unwilling to walk away even though she’s holding the door open and probably letting all the cold air out. With a short yelp, she realizes how long the two of you have been standing there and crosses inside. You stand behind her in the line behind the counter, shuffling forward as you read the posted menu.

“I think I’m gonna get the salmon,” you decide. “Hey, so how are things with that girl you’ve been seeing?”

“They’ve been good!” You’re about three people away from the counter, but the first one is line is like, a really huge guy with a booming voice who has been talking forever. Maybe he knows the cashier? “She’s really pretty, and she doesn’t mind or get impatient when I’m anxious. She also gets anxious!”

“That’s great?” You pat her on the shoulder. “I’m really happy for you, Yachi.”

“Me too,” she beams at you. “What about you? Have you met anyone?”

“No,” you snort. “I’m on the apps. So dating is basically a cesspool.” The giant guy who was ordering seems to be done now, but he’s still talking, being slowly dragged away by the elbow by a guy in a cardigan and glasses. You slide your phone out of your pocket and open your dating profile. “See?”

At that moment, your phone pings with a new notification.

Atsumu liked you!

He’s not… bad looking. If you saw him in real life, you’d probably hide behind a bench or something and stalk him with your eyes just so you could look at him as long as you wanted, actually.

He’s your age, a pro volleyball player, his hair dark where it’s been shaved short on the sides but dyed blond up top. He has a kind of sardonic, dead-eyed expression in all of his photos that you think is really funny.

My love language is… arguing in missionary.

You smother a laugh.

“He’s kind of cute!” Yachi peers at your phone. “Kind of scary…”

“Please, I could beat him up,” you laugh. “I don’t know, he’s fine, I guess.”

You swipe left. He’s hot, but definitely a fuckboy. You’ve reached the counter, anyway, and a pro athlete on the apps is like, so many red flags.

You look up at the cashier.

You look down at your phone and click undo. The profile reappears.

You look up at the cashier.

“Fine, you guess?” Scowls Atsumu, 23, (volley)baller. Or maybe not, considering his Onigiri Miya apron. “Welcome to Onigiri Miya, what can I get for ya. Geez.”

He talks in Kansai dialect, you note, which you’ve always thought is melodic. Pretty.

In real life, Atsumu is very pretty. His eyes have midtones of honey and amber that don’t show up on photo and give him a sparkling dimension that sort of detracts from his aura of evil. Even though he’s scowling at you, you want to ruffle his hair and bite his cheek.

“Um, I’ll have the salmon ball,” you say. “And, yeah. I guess.”

He scribbles so hard he breaks the tip of his pencil. With a grunt of disgust, he tosses both notepad and pencil over his shoulder.

“What, pro athlete not good enough for ya?” He points at Yachi, who squeaks. “And for ya?”

“What?” She says, looking terrified. You put a bracing hand on her shoulder.

“Your order,” he drawls.

“Oh! I don’t know.”

“Two salmon balls!” He yells to the back. “‘S on the house.”

“What?” Yachi gasps. “We couldn’t possibly—”

“You’re clearly not a professional athlete,” you say. “You’re a cashier.”

“This is charity work!” He snaps. “My teammate is right over there if ya need proof. I’m Miya Atsumu—this is my brother’s shop. I help him out on my off days.” He emphasizes his family name, underlining it on his apron with a finger.

That’s really sweet. You swoon a little inside, then shake yourself.

“You’re off every time this time this week?”

“Yeah, about,” he turns and bends over to grab his hastily discarded notepad. You do not make a secret of checking out his ass and quirk your lips into a smile when he turns back around, one he matches with reckless abandon. He has nice teeth, not perfectly straight, that imply that maybe he didn’t need braces growing up.

“Let me repay you for the meal,” you put a hand on the counter and lean across it, biting your lip, stomach singing with nerves. “Eight, next week?”

“Nah,” he shrugs you off, gestures for you to move along so he can get to the next customer in line. Your stomach drops, and so must your face. “Too far away. I’ll see ya this Friday for dinner.”

#shorts!#atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #inspired by a comment nova left on one of my personal posts #and the horrors of online dating (in which i will NEVER partake)#miya atsumu x reader fluff #atsumu x reader fluff #meet-combative-cute?#haikyuu x reader fluff #haikyuu x reader drabble #atsumu x reader drabble #miya atsumu x reader drabble

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kaciebello · 7 months

Text

Dangerous mail

Masterlist Badger express ★ Mattheo Riddle x Hufflepuff!reader (fem) Summary: Mattheo needs to use the Badger post to send threats. There is only one person who can help him. Warnings: no use of y/n Authors note: Haiya! This is a sequel series to the whole delivery one. This one is gonna focus on the boys separately! hope you enjoy it! English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes beforehand. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ) word count: 1.2k Song: Babydoll - Dominic Fike

Mattheo vowed to himself never to use the delivery service. That's why his steps were fast and his looks were sharp. When the vow is only in his mind, it is as easy to break as a twig. Trying to find the Hufflepuff Girl turns out to be a rather difficult task. The note was bent, almost burning a hole in his back pocket.

He has already scared a bunch of first-years trying to find the girl, he has searched from the dungeons to the towers and she was nowhere to be found. If he was to guess, the girl was just a few steps faster than him. So when he arrived at the greenhouse where herbology classes are held, he swore angles were upon him when a beam of light shined at the girl.

She was, for some reason, sitting on the top of the highest cabinet. The one where you need to climb to get on top. Now, Matteo has learned not to question the Hufflepuff way of sitting in the most uncomfortable places in the most uncomfortable positions. He once saw her hang upside down from the broom, intentionally.

He made his way to her, the girl seemed to be dozed and sunbathing in the beam. Her hair was let down but he could still make out the yellow bow in it. He knocked on the cabinets to get the girl's attention. She looked down at him with no other reaction.

“Oi,” He said looking up. She didn't answer him, just waved at him as she swayed her legs back and forth. Mattheo had to step aside otherwise he would have been kicked straight in the face.

“Can you come down?” He asks grabbing her leg, effectively stopping it from swinging. She tried to move it, but his grip was strong.

“And why would I do that?” She argued back, looking down at him she made sure to shield her eyes from the sun.

“Because I wanna talk to you.” He hissed back in truth slytherin fashion. She just looked at him and signaled for him to talk. He just sighed and accepted his fate and the fact that she was not gonna come down from her throne. He assumed that the minute she would have got down, another wild Hufflepuff would have taken her place in seconds.

“I need to use the Badger post.”He says avoiding her eyes. Looking around, making sure nobody hears them. She raised her eyebrows at him. Not once has one of the boys asked to use her services. Yes, they have received notes and love letters, but not once have they sent something back. Truly playing to the heartbreaker personas. She had a shocked expression on her face for a second before it turned into a wild smile.

“Oh? And who owns the honors to receive a love note from you?”

“It's a treat.”

“Oh,” she pauses. “That makes sense.” She extended her arms to him. For a moment he thought she was asking him to help her down, but he quickly realized that she wanted the note. He reached into his back pocket, pulled it out, and handed it to the girl. She took it from him and immediately opened it.

“Hey!” He yelped and tried to take it away from her, however, she moved it out of his reach. He murmured something about privacy, she just waved at him again.

“Please, that applies to love notes, not this. I wanna know who you want to kill. Again.” She said and finished reading. Impressed she gave Mattheo a thumbs up. He rolled his eyes at her.

“Well. will you deliver it?” He asks her with urgency. Some people walking by give him weird glances, so he gives them the death glare. She just lifted the note against the sun.

“Ya know I was talking to my friend the other day.” She says now looking at him. He gave her a weird look, not understanding where she was going with this.

“And one of them said my dad is hot. Is your dad hot Mattheo?”

“He's the dark lord.”

“Ahh, is that a no then?”He just shook his head, choosing not to answer the girl. For both of their sakes.

“Will you please deliver it?” He asks her again. She extended her hand to him and made a motion that could only mean one thing. Mattheo reaches again into his back pocket. Pulling out 5 galleons and dropping them in her palm. The girl thum glazes over them and then places them in her skirt pocket. The note soon followed.

“Please doing business with you.” She says pulling her legs up and starting to sunbathe again. Mattheo huffed in disbelief.

“I kinda need you to do it now.” He says, nervously stepping from side to side. She signed and looked at him again. She let her feet down and scooched to the edge of the cabinet. Mattheo was watching her. It took him a few seconds to understand she was training to get down. Looking around trying to calculate how and where to jump. Her eyes landed on him.

“Catch me.” She says. He just signed and extended his hands to catch her. He placed his hands around her waist before she jumped. He helped her down slowly, setting her gently on the floor. She was a little bit too close. He could feel her breath on his face. He was so close he could count the eyelashes on her eyes. Her eyes were sparkling in a way he had never seen before. His eyes shift to her lips for a second before going back to her eyes. One of his arms left her waist, moving to her face and pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. He leaned in a bit.

“It's extra.” He stopped in his tracks. Pulling away to look at her straight in the face.

“What?”

“Express delivery, it's 2 galleons extra.” She says looking at him with a very serious face. He chuckles and takes a few stapes away from her. Nodding his head he, he reaches for his back poked and pulls out the 2 galleons. Placing them in her hand. She doesn't move a muscle, looking at him wide-eyed.

“You are impossible, you know that sunshine?” He asked her. Her nose scrunched before she shrugged her shoulders at him.

“I will get this delivered by tonight.” She says, now back to her happy persona. She waved at him and left. He watched her as she skipped down the hall. Her robe followed her every movement. He was so close and yet so far. Maybe next time she won't slip away from him. And maybe he won't be so against using the delivery service.

Tag list: @daisiesformylove , @klimovatereza-blog , @lafrone ,@enfppuff , @rafegfs , @frogtape , @lovelyygirl8 , @catiwinky, @anyam444 , @leeleecats , @ghostgardn , @reverse-soe , @ultramarinetovelvet , @iwishigotswallowed , @jazz-berry , @justatadbonkers , @partnerincrime0 , @schaebickel , @bunnyhopsstuff

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ysobelfours · 5 months

Text

Lando's First Win — LN4

in which your boyfriend won a grand prix for the first time in his career.

lando norris x fem!reader

warnings; 18+ content !! MINORS DNI !! half of the story is SMUT, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), clubbing, drunk lando, praise, hair pulling, oral both receiving, and etc. word count: 3978

note: not proofread, not edited, will maybe; also, this oneshot has no mentions of y/n!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

i was glued to the tv, watching the race like my life depended on it. man, i wish i could've been there in person, but nope, some last-minute work drama had me stuck at home. so there i was, heart pounding like crazy as i saw lando leading the pack, holding onto that sweet p1 spot with just 10 laps to go.

after a nail-biting ten laps, lando clinched his first-ever grand prix win in miami, crossing the checkered flag with style. bursting with excitement, i immediately sent him a message to offer my heartfelt congratulations. and of course, i had to capture the historic moment, snapping a quick pic of his finish on my tv screen and sharing it with the world on my instagram story.

amidst the interviews, podium celebrations, and photo ops with the mclaren team, lando's mind kept drifting back to one thing: my message. he couldn't shake the anticipation of reading my words of support, knowing that even though i couldn't be there in person, i was cheering him on from afar.

finally, as the chaotic whirlwind of post-race activities began to settle, lando seized the opportunity to check his phone. with a quick swipe, he navigated to his messages, looking for my name. his heart skipped a beat when he saw my name.

"hey baby! can't believe it, i did it!" lando greeted me as soon as i picked up his call. i could tell that he was smiling from the tone of his voice.

"oh my gosh, lan, i knew you could do it! you were incredible out there!" i excitedly responded to him.

"thanks, baby! it feels unreal. i'm just so pumped right now!"

"you should be! you deserve to celebrate this big win. any plans?"

lando pauses, thinking "hmm, not really, just thinking of winding down, you know?"

i frowned upon hearing his response, how could he not celebrate his first win properly?!

“absolutely not! you were on fire out there! you know what? you've got to celebrate this win properly." i rolled my eyes as the words came out of my mouth.

lando laughs, "yeah, baby? you think? got any suggestions?" he asks eagerly.

i started to think and an idea popped up in my gorgeous, genius mind! fortunately, i was done with the work assigned to me.

"hmm, how about a little victory party at the club? you deserve to let loose and enjoy the moment, along with the grid, ya know?!" i giggled, hoping that he would agree so i could push through with my plan.

lando considers it, "you might be right, sweetheart. but i'm not sure…" he sounded sarcastic on the other line, probably just to tease me. i sighed and rolled my eyes, again.

"come on, lan! you've worked so hard for this. make some memories! trust me, you won't regret it." i demanded, hoping that he would agree now.

lando was obviously smiling "alright, you've convinced me! let's do it!"

"that's the spirit! now go have some fun, and i'll catch up with you later, lan, okay?":

“sounds like a plan! love you, baby!”

"love you too! enjoy the celebration!"

as lando hangs up, little does he know that i've already booked a two hour long flight to miami along with a suite, determined to surprise him and celebrate his victory in person. with a mischievous grin, i start packing my bags, thrilled at the thought of seeing the look of surprise on his face when i show up unannounced.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

inside club velocity, the atmosphere pulsed with energy as lando, surrounded by his fellow drivers, basked in the euphoria of his first grand prix victory. the music thumped, mingling with the cheers and laughter of the crowd as they toasted to his success.

lando, wearing a grin that could light up the night sky, raised his glass in a toast, his eyes sparkling with joy and gratitude. around him, his friends and teammates clapped him on the back, their voices blending into a chorus of congratulations.

as the night wore on, the celebration only grew more spirited, with lando at the center of it all, soaking in every moment of his well-deserved triumph. little did he know, an even greater surprise awaited him, one that would make this unforgettable night even more memorable.

as soon as i finished getting ready, i messaged carlos to ask him which club they’re at.

me: "hey carlos! hope you guys are having a blast celebrating lando's win! which club are you all at?"

carlos: "hey! yeah, it's wild here! we're at club velocity on south beach. you should come join us!"

me: "awesome, thanks! see you there!" with carlos's reply in hand, i quickly went inside my rented vehicle, my heart pounding with excitement at the thought of surprising lando and joining in the celebration of his first grand prix victory.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

i got to the club as quickly as possible. still making sure that i wore my signature carol h. good girl scent.

as i approached lando, i noticed his glazed eyes scanning the crowd, seemingly lost in a haze of alcohol. but then, something shifted. his brow furrowed in confusion for a moment before his expression softened, and he inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring slightly.

suddenly, his gaze sharpened, and a spark of recognition ignited in his eyes. "wait… i know that scent," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the music.

a smile spread across my face as i watched him, knowing exactly what he was sensing. then, in an instant, his face lit up with realization, and he turned towards me with newfound clarity.

"it's you, baby! it’s you!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with delight as he lunged forward to envelop me in a warm embrace.

relieved and touched by his recognition, i hugged him back, feeling the tension melt away as he held me close. it was a moment of pure connection amidst the chaos of the club, a reminder of the bond we shared.

as we pulled apart, lando's grin was infectious, his eyes bright with happiness. "i can't believe you're here, baby, you’re really here" he said, his voice filled with genuine surprise and gratitude.

i chuckled, shaking my head fondly. "wouldn't miss celebrating with you, lan. even if you're a little… tipsy."

lando laughed, a sheepish expression crossing his face. "yeah, maybe i went a bit overboard."

"seriously though, you're swaying more than the palm trees outside and your words are starting to sound like a foreign language. i think it's time we got you home, don't you?"

lando slowly nods sheepishly "yeah, you're probably right. i guess i got caught up in the moment." he giggled and pinched my cheek.

“i missed you so much, baby. i love you” he whispered in my ear, lightly biting it. i couldn't help my cheeks from turning hot after what he said.

i struggled to make up my words before i responded, “i missed you too, lan. i love you.” i gave him a peck on the cheek and ruffled his curly hair. he smiled at me, a smile warm enough to melt my heart.

“let’s get you some rest, lan. say goodbye to the grid.” i guided lando to stand up, his hand wrapped around my waist to help him navigate his way through the crowd.

“hey guys, i just wanted to say a huge thank you for being here tonight to celebrate with lando. it means the world to him, and to me."

"of course! lando's victory is something we all wanted to celebrate together!" carlos smiled and gave lando a pat on the back.

"absolutely, it's been an amazing night. but right now, my love needs some rest. take care, everyone!"

as we exchanged farewells and well-wishes, i couldn't help but feel grateful for the support of lando's friends. with smiles and nods all around, lando quickly waved goodbye and thanked his fellow drivers.

as we navigated out the club, lando's whispers filled the air, his words a mixture of adoration and drunken rambling. "you're so beautiful, baby" he murmured, his voice filled with affection. "and i've missed you so much."

i chuckled softly, feeling a wave of warmth wash over me. "i've missed you too, lan. but let's save the sweet talk for when you're a bit more sober, alright?"

lando nodded earnestly, his gaze locking with mine. "yeah, you're right, baby. but seriously, your smell… it's intoxicating. i can't get enough of it."

grinning, i squeezed his hand gently. "thanks, love. i'll take that as a compliment, even if it's coming from a slightly intoxicated mind."

with a sheepish grin, lando leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear. "i mean it, though, my love. you always smell like home to me."

as i opened the door to the shotgun seat, lando stumbled slightly as he climbed in, his movements slowed by the alcohol. with a patient smile, i guided him into the seat, making sure he was settled before reaching for his seatbelt.

as i leaned over to fasten his seatbelt, lando took advantage of the close proximity and planted a quick, sneaky kiss on my neck. the unexpected gesture sent a tingling sensation through me, but i brushed it off with a playful roll of my eyes.

"behave yourself, lan," i teased, my tone lighthearted as i finished securing his seatbelt.

with a mischievous grin, lando giggled and leaned back in his seat, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. i closed the door with a soft chuckle, taking a moment to compose myself before heading around to the driver's side.

as i settled into the driver's seat and started the engine, i couldn't help but smile at the lingering warmth of lando's kiss against my neck. but with a shake of my head, i focused on the road ahead, determined to get us back to our hotel safely.

as lando drifted off to sleep beside me, his face softened into a peaceful expression. i couldn't help but admire him at that moment. here was a guy who'd poured his heart and soul into his passion, and tonight, it had paid off big time.

i thought back on all the blood, sweat, and tears he'd poured into his career, the late nights at the track, the tough races, and the moments of doubt. but through it all, he'd never given up.

now, as he slept, i saw a sense of calm wash over him, like he'd finally achieved what he'd been working towards all this time. it was a pretty amazing feeling to witness.

at that moment, i realized how lucky i was to share this journey with him. and as i stole glances at him sleeping, i couldn't help but feel a wave of pride for everything he'd accomplished.

as i shook lando awake, his sleepy voice sent a blush creeping up my cheeks. "hey, love. did we make it to the hotel already?"

i managed a smile, trying to hide my embarrassment. "yeah, we're here, sleepyhead," i replied softly, guiding him out of the car.

lando leaned heavily on me, his arm draped over my shoulder. it was a struggle to help him towards the elevator, his weight making each step a challenge.

"you're amazing, baby" lando slurred, his words sincere but slightly garbled.

i chuckled, feeling both amused and touched by his compliment. "just doing my best, lan" i replied modestly, navigating us through the lobby.

lando's closeness sent a flutter through me, his arm around my neck, dangling through my breasts as we walked made me feel the way i felt earlier when he kissed me on the neck.

as we reached the suite, i gently guided lando towards the bed, urging him to lie down and get some rest. but to my surprise, he resisted, his eyes pleading as he reached out to me.

"i don't want to sleep yet, baby" he murmured, his voice laced with a hint of longing. "i've missed you so much."

my heart skipped a beat at his words, a rush of warmth flooding through me. despite his drunken state, there was an intensity in his gaze that left me breathless.

"i've missed you too, lan," i whispered, my voice barely above a hush as i met his gaze.

“c’mere, beautiful” lando patted the space next to him in the bed, asking me to sit down beside him.

there was a charged silence between us, the air thick with unspoken desires and yearning. in that moment, it felt as if time stood still, the world narrowing down to just the two of us in the dimly lit room.

and then, almost as if on instinct, lando's hand reached out to cup my cheek, his touch sending a shiver down my spine. the intensity of his gaze held me captive, drawing me closer until our lips were mere inches apart.

without a word, our lips met in a tender, lingering kiss, a silent expression of all the emotions that had been building between us. it was a kiss filled with longing and desire, a silent promise of what was to come.

"so beautiful, my love," lando mumbled in between our kisses, his voice thick with emotion. "you don't know how long i've waited for this."

his words sent a thrill through me, igniting a fire that had been smoldering between us for far too long. with each touch of his lips against mine, i felt myself melting into him, consumed by the heat of our passion.

our kisses deepened, each one more fervent than the last, as if we were trying to convey all the pent-up longing and desire that had been simmering between us for so long. "tastes like heaven, baby" lando murmured between kisses, his voice husky with desire.

"i've missed this so much, lan" i confessed, my breath hitching as his fingers traced patterns along my skin.

lando paused, his touch gentle yet charged with an electric intensity. "i've missed this just as much, baby," he murmured, his voice filled with emotion. "more than words can say."

his hands roamed over to my wet panties that sent shivers down my spine, igniting a hunger that burned hotter with each passing moment. "you're so beautiful, and wet for me, baby" he whispered, his voice filled with reverence as he started to play with my clit.

i arched into his touch, wordlessly urging him closer, craving the delicious friction of our bodies melding together. "don't stop," i pleaded, my voice barely above a whisper as the sensations threatened to overwhelm me.

two of his fingers slipped inside me, and i found myself clutching his hair. “don’t stop, lan. more, please,” i urged, my voice tinged with urgency and longing. and, as always, he delivered without hesitation.

“so wet for me, and only for me, baby,” he murmured against my skin, his tone raw with desire, igniting a primal spark within me.

lando's eyes darkened with hunger as he drew nearer, his breath a tantalizing caress against my ear. "you're mine," he whispered, possessiveness lacing his words, sparking a thrill of excitement in my chest. "all mine."

a shiver of anticipation ran down my spine at his words, a silent agreement to the intensity of our connection. "yes, lan," i responded softly, the words barely escaping my lips, "only yours."

with a shared understanding, he guided me onto his waiting mouth, each movement charged with unspoken longing.

“want to taste you so bad, baby,” he growled softly, his breath warm against my skin as his tongue danced with mine, exploring every curve and crevice with eager reverence.

“tastes damn good, pretty girl,” he rasped, his voice a husky murmur of appreciation as he savored the intimacy of the moment.

with every lick, i felt myself edging closer to the end, our bodies moving in sync, a symphony of pleasure and desire. he quickened the pace, driving me towards the edge until i was teetering on the brink, my senses ablaze with sensation.

"fuck, lan. i’m so fucking close," i moaned, the words tumbling from my lips in a breathless plea for release.

i hit my breaking point, just lost in the moment, riding that wave of pure pleasure, my voice echoing in the silence of the room.

as i caught my breath, i gazed at lando with a sense of wonder, gratitude swelling in my chest for the connection we shared.

“c’mere, pretty. take my pants off for me, will ya?” he said, his voice tinged with anticipation. and without hesitation, i obliged, eager to reciprocate the pleasure he had just given me.

as i removed his pants, his eyes locked onto me, filled with unmistakable desire. when he pulled out his length from his boxers, i was taken aback; it seemed even bigger than before.

lando noticed my gulp as i stared at him, clearly turned on by my reaction.

without warning, he guided himself into my mouth, gently gathering my hair into a makeshift ponytail as he directed my movements.

"i missed this fucking mouth," lando grunted, his hand instinctively moving my head forward and backward until his length reached my throat.

“ah, fuck, baby, your mouth feels incredible,” he moaned, his eyes closing in pleasure as he savored the sensations. releasing his grip on my head, he allowed me full control.

i licked the tip of his shaft teasingly, before gradually taking him deeper until i reached his base. “you're so fucking beautiful like this, love. such a good girl, taking me fully” he struggled to praise, his words punctuated by moans of pleasure.

each sound he made spurred me on, igniting a deeper desire within me. with passion driving me, i gave him my all, the rhythm of my mouth against his cock filling the room.

“so good with your mouth like this, love. fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he thrust his hips, his movements growing more urgent.

“baby, i’m about to cum,” he warned between moans. i yearned for him to finish so we could move on to the next stage; my anticipation palpable.

“i’m cumming, baby. fuck, i’m cumming. you’re so fucking good at this, my love,” he smiled appreciatively as i swallowed, clearly impressed and aroused by my eagerness.

turning me around, he instructed, “on your knees, my love.”

"lando," i breathed, my voice a mix of warning and longing, almost on the edge of a whine. my legs remained spread as i faced away from him, fighting the urge to squirm, my patience wearing thin.

lando's grin widened, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as his hands pushed my legs further apart, positioning himself at the entrance of my wetness.

"you look stunning from this angle, love," he hummed, his voice laced with teasing sweetness. "you need me badly, don’t you, love?" his length traced over my folds teasingly, sending shivers down my spine.

though i hesitated to admit it, i couldn't deny the truth as my hips involuntarily bucked upwards, a strangled moan escaping me when he pinched my clit.

"i need you," i whimpered almost shamefully, my head falling back in surrender. "so bad, lan."

"i need you inside me," i mumbled, making his smirk return.

"missed you so fucking much," he hisses, parting my legs further as my breath got faster.

"missed you too, lan" i assured him, a moan slipping past my lips as i felt his tip pressing against my folds, though he made no further movements. i pushed my hip back to feel his length.

his hand tangling in my hair and creating a makeshift ponytail ─ one he tugged on immediately, forcing my head up.

"use your words, m' love" lando's lips grazed my ear, his cock still lightly pressing against my entrance, causing me to cry out.

"i want you to fuck me," i whined, rushing my words out as my hips pressed backward.

"need you, lan, please," i whimpered, sounding desperate.

he entered me without warning, bottoming out as my walls wrapped around him, our gasps mingling as i gripped the bedsheets below.

"always taking me so well," lando grunted in my ear as his thrusts became rougher, deeper, ensuring i felt every inch of him.

every movement sent pleasure coursing through my body, my moans filling the room as i surrendered to the pleasure.

"you feel amazing, lan," i stumbled out, my eyes rolling back as my body melted under his touch.

lando, too, seemed lost in the sensation, his head thrown back as he moved with purpose, the sound of our bodies colliding filling the room.

"does it feel good?" his question was rhetorical, just a way to chase praise, but i could barely form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences.

i nodded, the only response i could manage in his hold.

"damn, you're just perfect, baby," lando grunted, his kiss on my shoulder was gentle compared to what was happening between my legs.

it was almost too much, the tears and whimpers making it clear i was close to another climax. and just the thought had him reaching his own peak.

"cum on my cock, baby. cum for me," he urged in my ear, sending shivers down my spine as my second orgasm hit. i practically screamed, going limp in his arms.

feeling me tighten around him had him climaxing too, groaning as he leaned against me, both of us catching our breath.

his touches became softer as he pulled away, guiding me to lean against the counter. we fell into a comfortable silence, his hands gentle on my waist.

"wanna hop in the shower?" lando's voice broke the quiet, a grin spreading across his face, and i felt a wave of relief.

i grinned back and nodded, and he chuckled, lifting me effortlessly and carrying me off to the bathroom.

after a relaxing shower together, we dried off and crawled into bed, exhausted yet content. the weight of the day's activities and the intimacy we shared left us feeling pleasantly worn out.

"baby, that was something else," lando chuckled, his arm wrapping around me as he pulled me close. his laughter was infectious, echoing the contentment that filled the room.

"definitely," i agreed, snuggling against him. the warmth of his body against mine was comforting, a tangible reminder of the bond we shared.

in the morning, we woke to the gentle rays of sunlight streaming through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. the tranquility of the moment was almost tangible as we lay intertwined, basking in the quiet stillness of the early hours.

"morning, love," lando greeted me with a smile, his eyes filled with affection as he pressed a tender kiss to my lips. the warmth of his lips against mine was a sweet welcome to the new day.

"morning, sleepyhead," i teased, returning his kiss with a playful grin.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

hope u enjoyed reading my first fan-fic <3 feel free to give prompts and request !! enjoy !

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