#But first I have to clean up a couple other things so I CAN do this carrd update for reasons(tm) XD

[taeyongdoyoung]

poison

summary: tasting the king's meals for poison is a great honour to be bestowed on you. but poison is not the only thing you're interested in tasting... paring: king!haechan x maid!reader genre: royalty!au, romance, drama, smut warnings: reader has anxiety, food-tasting, mentions of poison, hierarchical system, rich guy/poor girl trope, shitty ex jaemin (sorry boo 💞), evil uncle trope, threats, mentions of blood, insecurities, crying, pet names, lots of kissing, inexperienced reader, lowkey corruption kink, fingering, handjob, cum-eating, loss of virginity, unprotected sex author's note: the plot is loosely inspired by some historical kdramas and the folk of the air trilogy 🥰 also, there are some references to nct songs in bold bc it's me, duh word count: 4.8k

Your life as a maid in the royal palace is pretty boring. You wake up, you prepare meals in the kitchen, you wash clothes, you clean rooms, you sneak a piece of stale bread if you find any (if you're lucky even some cheese), you go to sleep, repeat. Every day is the same. No drama, no adventure, nothing out of the ordinary. You don't like it but it's all you can do so you can send some money to your poor family.

That is until on one random day you are summoned to the king's chambers immediately, the other maids saying it is of utmost importance. You are panicking. Did you do something wrong? You try to attend to your duties with all the care and attention to detail possible. Will you be scolded or worse, punished, for some mistake you cannot place? You try to calm your rapidly beating heart, as you enter the king's room.

Looking down nervously, you bow deeply, not able to think of anything else to say, rather than mumbling a weak "Your Majesty".

"Relax, I'm not going to kill you," king Haechan says in his signature deep voice.

His words do little to ease your mind and your hands are still shaking.

"I've been told by my most trusted counsellor that I have many enemies and cases of poisoned aristocrats have been increasing. So, after discussing it in great detail, he advised me to look for a food taster. Someone I could count on not to betray me," the king explains.

"With all due respect, Your Majesty, but w-why me?" you ask meekly.

"You know my counsellor Jaemin, don't you? I believe you two were once…intimate. He said you could definitely be trusted. And I trust him with my life, so…"

Your damn ex Jaemin…You can't tell if him recommending you to the king as a potential food taster is a compliment or a curse. After all, you could literally die from poison. But then again, what can you do? You can't exactly disobey the king's direct command. At the end of the day, he bestowed a great honour on you. Anyone else would be jumping with joy. Anyone else but you.

"Your Majesty, I'm not denying you, of course. It's just that…I'm the only source of income for my poor parents. I can't bear to think of them all on their own."

"You have my word. Should anything happen to you…your parents will be well taken care of," the king promises and there is so much compassion and sincerity in his voice, you have no choice but to believe him.

"Very well, then. I'll try all your meals before you," you vow solemnly.

"Splendid," the king claps his hands.

That is how your boring days at the royal palace come to an abrupt end. You try the first couple of meals anxiously and with little appetite. Your stomach hurts from nervousness and not because there is any poison in the food. As time goes by, the food-tasting process becomes second nature to you. Eventually, you convince yourself that the chances of actual poison are low and you begin to enjoy your daily interactions with the king.

"What do we have for lunch today, my sweetest treasure?" the king asks. You like how he addresses you. As if you are genuinely important to him. As if it would pain him if he lost you. It's a kind gesture to distract you from the reality of how replacable you are.

"Your favourite, Your Majesty. Kimchi jjigae," you respond politely.

"Yesss, it's gonna be a great day!" the king squeals happily like a little boy.

It is an unwelcome reminder of how young he actually is. Unwelcome because you cannot imagine how difficult it must be for him. Enemies lurking at every corner, having all this power and responsibilities…and no one to share them with.

After you try the kimchi jjigae and check its safety, the king begins eating excitedly.

"You know that not all poisons kick in immediately, right?" you know it's rude to interrupt him but you cannot help yourself. "There is still a chance that we both get poisoned but the symptoms appear later."

"I know, but…" the king sighs, his mouth still full. Once he finishes chewing, he finishes his sentence. "It's still a precaution. At least Jaemin seems to think so."

You roll your eyes at the mention of your ex.

"Did you not end things on good terms?" the king is curious.

"We just…had lots of differences. Jaemin, being from a higher social class, said that I was just a way to pass the time. That he didn't see any future for us…That he would never marry me."

"Ouch," the king keeps chewing his favourite food. "I mean, it's technically true you belong to different worlds, but he could have said it more nicely."

"Do you trust his judgement? I'm not talking about relationships. Just…on the topic of poisons and stuff," you need to know.

"I suppose. We've known each other for so long, it'd be silly not to trust him."

"May I make a suggestion?" you inquire. "I know I'm not as qualified as Jaemin, but it's still worth taking other people's opinions into consideration."

"Sure," the king shrugs. "What did you have in mind?"

"If there are so many cases of aristocrats being poisoned, why don't you try taking a little poison each day to build an immunity? I've heard this method is quite common in other kingdoms."

"Where did you learn that?" the king asks you suspiciously.

"I read it in a book somewhere."

"You can read? No offense."

"None taken. When I'm done with my maid duties, I sneak into the royal library sometimes. Don't tell the king," you joke.

"Your secret's safe with me," the king laughs.

Time passes in the same old way. Cleaning, cooking and food-tasting. Repeat. One evening, the king summons you again.

You are about to take a bite from the food before him when he unexpectedly grabs your wrist and stops you.

"I don't want you to do that anymore," he murmurs.

"What?"

"I've started taking a little poison each day to build an immunity, like you advised me to. So far, I've been doing alright. And…I just think it's unfair, alright? What if you actually die?" the king whispers, as if the thought is so unbearable to him he can't even say it. "I can't lose you. I…trust you too much."

He trusts you? The thought is so bizarre in a flattering way your heart hurts upon hearing his sincerity.

"Are you planning to find another food-taster, then?" the very question is painful to you. Despite the potential danger, you don't want to be replaced. You want to keep being his person.

The king shakes his head.

"No life is worth more than mine. I'm not doing that outdated thing anymore."

"Of course, your life is worth the most! You are the king!" you exclaim passionately, pulling the food towards you.

"You think I don't know that?" he whisper-shouts, taking the food once again. "You think I don't wake up each morning wishing things were different?"

What…what is he on about? Why would he wish he wasn't the king?

"I'm not sure I follow," you say quietly.

"It's fine. I don't understand myself. Just…don't tell anyone, okay? Not even Jaemin. Let everyone believe you're still tasting my food and come at the allotted times as usual."

The not even Jaemin part shocks you. Does he no longer trust him as he once did? What is going on?!

"As you wish, Your Majesty," you respond, not even thinking of disobeying him. As confusing as everything is, you need him to trust you. More than you've needed anything else in your life.

"Oh and…one more thing. You should call me Haechan. When we're alone, that is."

"Uhm, okay. Haechan?"

"Yes, sweetheart?" he tilts his head cutely.

"Nothing, just trying it out," you chuckle.

Haechan laughs warmly and starts eating calmly.

"I can't tell if you're brave or reckless," you tease him.

"Perhaps both," he shrugs.

One Monday, your worst fear comes true. As you are preparing Haechan's meal, you are faced with his uncle. You've never been a fan of him for some unknown reason, but now you know your suspicions were completely justified.

"Give me the meal," he orders and you are so terrified, you do as he asks.

He pulls a vial out of his pocket and pours it on top of the food nonchalantly, mixing it well with a spoon, so that it doesn't show.

"Say a word to the king and you parents are dead," he threatens.

"What do you know about my parents?" you ask boldly. Foolishly, even.

After Haechan's uncle says the names of your parents and the exact location of their home, you realize he isn't bluffing. What are you going to do?

As you enter Haechan's chambers, you realize you can't do it.

"Ooh, this looks delicious," Haechan is about to put the food into his mouth when you rudely push the spoon away from him, spilling the food all over the ground.

"It's super cold and totally unappetizing," you exclaim the first thing that comes to mind.

Haechan eyes you weirdly but doesn't scold you.

"Have this, instead," you pull a sweet pastry from your pocket, knowing it's safe.

Haechan shrugs, not caring about what he's given.

"So yummy," he smiles happily, not suspecting a thing.

If you tell him, your parents are dead. If you don't, he's dead. Sooner or later.

When his evil uncle questions you later, you lie through your teeth that the king wasn't hungry and tossed the food away in an angry fit. Miraculously, his uncle believes that.

Similar things happen throughout the week. On Tuesday, you eat the food meant for Haechan yourself, hoping that the self-poisoning you've been doing in secret with the help of your apothecary friend Renjun will be plenty of protection and that you'll survive this extra dose of poison. On Wednesday, you explain to Haechan that the food was made with old ingredients and give him a piece of bread and some cheese you've set aside. On Thursday, you once again make a mess and spill the meal, pretending it was a clumsy accident. On Friday, you tell Haechan that you saw a cockroach in the food. Very far-fetched but it somehow works?! On Saturday, you go as far as lying to Haechan that you were so hungry you ate his food in the corridor.

Not once does he question you or get angry. His evil uncle, however, is becoming more and more agitated.

On Sunday, the uncle has had enough of your failed attempts to poison the king. And he shows you something that makes your blood run cold.

Two chopped-off fingers that he claims belong to your parents.

"If you fail again, it'll be their entire hands next time. And then, their heads. Choose wisely," he threatens cruelly.

You seem to be at an impasse.

As you are once more left alone with Haechan, you debate what to do. You are running out of ideas. Haechan's spoon is approaching his mouth eagerly. After all, he's been eating nothing but bread and random snacks all week. Your mind goes blank. If he eats that, he'll surely die. If he doesn't, your parents might die. It's an impossible situation. But you are greedy. Greedy to save both his life and your parents'.

"Stop," you cry out.

Haechan's hand freezes mid-air. It's now or never.

"I have betrayed you, Your Majesty, please kill me," you drop to your knees desperately.

"I told you to call me Haechan," he rolls his eyes. "What's wrong?"

"Your uncle has been trying to kill you," you blurt out. "He's been putting poison in your meals for the past week. I kept trying to come up with ridiculous reasons to prevent you from eating it but…he's been threatening my parents. Today he showed me two chopped-off fingers and said the next time I fail to poison you, it'll be their hands and the final time, their heads, but…I can't do this."

"Can't do what?" Haechan asks you to clarify.

"I can't poison you," you admit, eyes filled with tears. Even though your parents' lives are in grave danger, losing Haechan would hurt just as much.

"Could have just said that from the beginning instead of feeding me bread for a week," Haechan teases.

"You believe me?" you inquire nervously. Only now does the gravity of the situation strike you. What if he'd chosen to side with his uncle and executed you for treason?

"Jaemin's been warning me about my uncle plotting against me for a while now. I thought it was just his paranoia, but…I'm inclined to believe you and Jaemin."

"Over your own flesh and blood?" you are pleasantly surprised.

"Blood doesn't necessarily make you family," Haechan shrugs. "Okay, here's the plan. We'll sneak out of the palace and go find your parents. We'll make sure they go somewhere my uncle won't be able to find them."

You nod numbly, amazed at how quick he's thinking and finding a way out of this situation.

"Then, we'll return to the palace and make my uncle regret ever trying to mess with us."

"Us?" you repeat.

"Yeah, us," Haechan confirms. "We're in this together, no?"

"Hell yeah!" you reply, infected by his enthusiasm to find a solution.

Once you dress up with cloaks and daggers, Haechan leads you through a secret tunnel hidden behind the royal library that takes you both out of the palace.

"Don't tell anyone about this," Haechan whispers in your ear, his hand on your lower back, making you gasp for air.

"Who am I gonna tell? The king?" you joke to distract him from how affected you are by his gentle touch.

"Yeah, he should never know about this," Haechan chuckles in the dark and kisses you on the lips, taking you by surprise. You…he…what?!

You wrap your arms around his neck, desperate for the way he grounds you and makes you believe it will all be alright, you'll find a way out of this mess. Together.

He is the one to initiate the kiss but sadly, he is also the one to end it as abruptly as it started.

"As much as I'm enjoying the taste of your lips, we have to get to your parents and make sure they're okay."

"Right, right," you agree. He's more concerned about your parents than you, which speaks volumes about his noble character.

You resist the urge to swoon and try to focus on the task at hand.

Once you get to your parents' place, you are happily amazed to find all their fingers intact! That bastard was bluffing!~But the question remains…whose fingers were that?!

"You'll have to go to another town," you explain impatiently. "Haechan has some trusted friends who'll take you in."

"H-haechan?" your mom repeats in shock upon hearing you call the king by his first name.

"Uhh," you look to Haechan nervously for a way to explain. You know he told you to only call him that when it's the two of you but it just slipped so naturally…

"It's okay," he reassures you. "Your daughter has saved my life on multiple occasions. Making sure you two are fine is the least I could do."

"You are too kind, Your Majesty," your dad is even more stunned by Haechan's gentle demeanour.

"Just returning the favour. Your daughter's irreplaceable."

Oh. You wonder if he truly believes that or is simply trying to ease your parents' worries.

Soon enough, you parents are travelling to Haechan's friends and you and the king are riding back to the palace.

Immediately, he summons a court meeting and gives the order for his uncle to be brought to justice in front of all the aristocrats. His uncle is struggling to escape the guards' arms and screaming treason. But Jaemin's and your account of the uncle's actions are enough to convince the people of the truth. Eventually, other aristocrats start speaking up of suspicious things Haechan's uncle has done or said like threatening them or their family in an attempt to take the throne. In no time, the uncle is imprisoned.

"You should have just killed him," Jaemin tells Haechan quietly. "He would have done the same to you."

"I do things differently," Haechan replies. "If you were king, you'd understand."

Jaemin shrugs.

"Lucky for me, I'll never know what that's like."

Haechan rolls his eyes, trusting that his friend has no such ambitions and is happy with his life as a counsellor.

Even with the threat of Haechan's uncle behind bars, he still continues to take little doses of poison to build an immunity. You don't tell him but you do the same, carrying on with food-tasting his meals before him. You value your life, sure. But you value his more.

One random Tuesday, Haechan summons you to his chambers. But the hour does not indicate food-bringing activities. Just like the first time, you are overwhelmed by a strange sense of anxiety. Even though you've known him for so long and have been through so much together, it still unnerves you, being alone with him. You don't know if things would be different if he weren't king. Perhaps not. There is just something about Haechan that makes your knees tremble in the best way possible.

"You've asked to see me, Your Majesty?" you mumble.

"When will you get rid of that annoying habit? It's just me…Haechan," he reminds you needlessly.

"I know, but you're still the king."

"That sounds so detached," Haechan groans. "But I'm hoping what I have to say will convince you to only call my name. Not just when we're alone."

"What are you saying?" you're beyond confused.

"Marry me. Become the queen of my kingdom," he pleads, taking your hand in his.

"But…you can't," you whisper in shock, reminded of how adamant Jaemin was. And if the distance between your place in society and Jaemin's was big…then, the distance between your and Haechan's worlds seems far more insurmountable.

"I can," Haechan looks more determined than anything to do this.

"People will talk…They won't be happy."

"Fuck people," Haechan scoffs. "Will you have me or not?"

"Of course, I will, Haechan," you cry out. "You've shown me more kindness and understanding than anyone in my life."

"You do know I'll give you anything you desire?" Haechan speaks softly. "As long as you're by my side, as you have been so far."

"You do know I don't want anything, right? Even if you weren't king, I'd choose you in any universe."

"Are you serious?" Haechan smiles in disbelief, the idea so foreign to him.

"Of course I am," you insist. "Even if you were a poor bard singing in taverns."

"Hm. I do love singing," Haechan smirks and kisses you.

And gods, his lips are sweeter than any meal you've tasted and every poison you've consumed. You could never get enough.

Your wedding day finally arrives. Shockingly, people are more accepting of your union than you anticipated, because they take your food-taster position in consideration and how valiantly you exposed Haechan's evil uncle. Your parents, as well, are happy to see you and Haechan together.

However, there is one person who is against.

"Is that why you broke up with me? Aiming high, I see," Jaemin snickers rudely once you are out of Haechan's sight for a brief moment at the wedding afterparty.

"I broke up with you because you said I was just a way to pass the time and you see no future for us. If you think I'm with Haechan because of his crown, you're even more foolish than I thought," you scoff.

"Oh, really?" Jaemin raises his eyebrows. "So, you're saying if Haechan lost his title as king, you'd still be with him?"

"Yes, I would. But the fact you're even talking about that can be considered treason by some."

"You know I'm loyal to Haechan. But do you honestly think you're good enough for him? You could never satisfy him. He'll grow tired of you, you'll see. You're so fucking…cold," Jaemin hisses.

His words sting more than when he implied you were with Haechan because of his power. It is true that you are not experienced. Even though you were with Jaemin for a while, you two never…went all the way. You were perhaps far too romantic but you wanted to save it for your wedding night.

"Well, lucky for you, you'll never get to feel how warm I can be," you say with a self-assured smile. "Now, piss off and let me enjoy my wedding."

Jaemin rolls his eyes and seemingly has nothing else to say, leaving you alone.

Why did he have to say all that stuff? You know it's not entirely true, but it still sucks. Jaemin was the one who ended what you two had with his cruel words. It's just that you were the only one brave enough to finally call it quits. And you're glad you did. He may be bitter now but he'll eventually find someone better suited for his character. As for you…you were perfectly happy with Haechan. And you wouldn't let Jaemin ruin your special day.

Eventually, the guests started leaving one by one and it was time for your wedding night. To say you are nervous would be an understatement. Your hands are shaking more badly than the first time you were summoned to Haechan's chambers. You are aware that he's a good person who will treat you right…but he's still your king and that fact is intimidating enough to make you tremble with anticipation.

"Good evening, my lovely wife," Haechan enters your (gods, this is insane) now shared room.

Your mind completely blanks and you have no idea what to say. So, you just start crying.

Haechan immediately rushes to you, embracing you and kneeling next to you.

"What's wrong? What did I do?"

"N-nothing," you manage. "It's not your f-fault."

"What is it?" he asks again. "Did Jaemin say anything?"

"How did you know?" you blink furiously to clear your vision from the tears.

"He's not over you yet, is he? It's obvious from the way he looks at you. And me. I mean, don't get me wrong, he's still as objective as he can be when giving me advice, but…he sometimes stares at me as if I stole his dinner. Not that you're dinner. You're obviously much more important than that and uh…I really should stop talking, shouldn't I?"

You laugh, pleasantly distracted by his ramblings.

"You're good. And he did say some stuff implying I was a gold digger, but…frankly, I don't care about his opinion."

"I'm gonna kill him," Haechan gets up but you are quick enough to grab his wrist.

"No, please, stay. Let him think what he wishes. I only care about what your opinion of me."

"Darling, I am perfectly confident you did not marry me because of my title."

"I know. I'm not talking about that. I mean…I'm just nervous I won't be able to please you. I've never done this before," you explain nervously.

"You and Jaemin never…?" Haechan waves his hand in the air meaningfully.

"I wanted to wait till my wedding night. So, um, here we are, I guess."

"Oh, my angel," Haechan places a hand on your cheek. "You don't have to worry about that. Just, relax, and let me take care of you."

"No, no. Teach me. I'll do anything you say, just…guide me, please?" you plead him, looking up at him, your eyes still moist with tears.

"Okay," Haechan agrees easily. "Take off your clothes."

You gulp anxiously and start unbuttoning your wedding dress. Why is it so hard? Why are there so many freaking buttons?

"Gods, you're trembling," Haechan points out the obvious and his impatience takes over. He removes your hands from your dress and finishes the remaining buttons himself. You are grateful for his help, but you still feel like a total failure for not being able to complete one simple task.

"I'm s-sorry," you pout.

"Don't apologize," Haechan shakes his head. "Can I touch you?"

You nod and he caresses you with his pretty fingers. It feels so sticky and weird but…weird good. Definitely good.

"You're so cute, you know that?"

"N-no, stop," you disagree, chuckling.

"Stop what? Stop doing this?" Haechan teases you but continues his motions, because he sees how much you're enjoying it.

"Stop calling me cute," you elaborate.

"You're so not cute," Haechan obliges jokingly. "That was a lie, by the way."

You laugh again, not just because of his words, but because the things he's doing with his hands make you feel so amazing you can't hold it in.

"You like that, my pretty wife? You like being touched by your husband?" Haechan talks you through it.

"Yes! So much! You have no idea!" you scream as you fall apart under him.

"I think I do," he smirks proudly and lets you ride it out. Then, he takes his fingers out…and licks them clean. Your eyes widen in shock. You've never imagined such a sight possible. The king of the country just did…THAT to you. And against all reason, you're still breathing.

"Show me how to do this to you," you beg, wanting to make him feel as good as you.

"It won't be the same," Haechan giggles. "But I'll give the best of me."

He takes off his clothes hurriedly, extremely excited to teach you everything he knows. You are amazed to see him in his full glory. His golden skin radiates in the dimlit room.

"You look incredible," you gasp.

Haechan tilts his head to the side, his cheeks turning red.

"May I touch you?" you ask reverently, still in awe of his sun-like beauty.

"We're married. Of course you can," Haechan reminds you sweetly and guides your hand, showing you all the way he likes to be touched, telling you what feels good and what doesn't (though everything you do feels good for him but he won't tell you just yet).

You do your best to follow his instructions and soon enough become bold enough to start experimenting yourself. He is enjoying it judging by the expressions on his heavenly pretty face.

"You're so hard. Isn't it uncomfortable?" you inquire, genuinely curious.

"It kinda is. But it's also a good thing. It means I'm really into you."

"The way when you touch me and I'm drippin' and it's kinda strange but also feels nice?" you try to explain the logic in your own terms.

"Exactly that way. You're a quick study," Haechan praises you.

"I just have a very good teacher," you compliment him in return and kiss him deeply, your hand still stroking him.

Soon enough, his release comes and you marvel at how much of it there is. You gather some of it with your finger and lick it, just like he had done with you.

"Fuck. You don't have to do that," Haechan moans.

"But you did it? Isn't it okay?" you blink innocently.

"It's not that it isn't okay. Just saying, you don't have to. I bet it tastes weird."

"No, it's not weird," you shake your head adamantly. "I mean, it's you, so I think it tastes sweet."

"Better than poison?" Haechan teases.

"Definitely better," you agree without thinking.

"I know you've been tasting my meals even when I told you to stop," Haechan blurts out all of a sudden.

"You knew?" you whisper in shock.

"I felt so bad but I didn't mention it because I knew no matter what I said, you'd keep doing it."

"You thought correctly," you sigh. "But you don't have to feel bad. I'm also taking little doses of poison each day, so I'll be fine. We'll both be fine, I'll make sure of it."

Haechan kisses you again, gripping your hair firmly, but gently at the same time.

"Remind me again what did I do to deserve you?"

"Did the Sun ever do anything but shine to make the Earth revolve around it?" you smile fondly.

"You're saying I'm your Sun?" Haechan presses his forehead against yours.

"Provided I'm your Earth," you respond.

"Well, did you know the fate of the Earth is to be consumed by the Sun?" Haechan informs you with a sweet voice but sombre expression.

"Consume me, then," you gladly consent and he slides inside of you all too smoothly.

Earth and Sun, moving together as one. Two entirely different worlds and yet…you belong with each other.

"You're too sweet for me," you murmur, chasing his lips once more.

"You've had too much poison your taste buds are off," Haechan jests.

"Maybe so," you grin. "I should probably drink more of you as an antidote."

"I'm counting on it, my beloved wife."

The End

[ellouchi]

One-shot: taking a bath with Jimmy (gn/just hints of suggestiveness)

Disclaimer: none? You know how Jimmy is.

Side notes: super indulgent if you couldn't tell. I wrote this in one day, sorry if this sucks ass. Don't judge me on the order of things! Sorry if it breaks the illusion or something.

"If you needed an excuse to grope me, you could've just asked" Jimmy teased sarcastically, pulling his smelly jersey over his head and dropping it carelessly onto the growing heap of clothes laying on the cold bathroom tiles.

"Uh-huh, you know exactly what I mean." You punched his arm playfully, knowing too well how Jimmy would respond to your proposition in the first place. "We will just take a bath together and that's the end of it."

"And that's it? Really? I find it hard to believe that you don't have any ulterior motives. Besides, I can wash myself just fine without another pair of hands getting in my way, what's the point of us washing together if we won't be fucking?" Jimmy tried again, this time locking his eyes with the buckle of his belt. He could tell you could tell he felt sceptical about this whole idea. From where he looked at it, it didn't make sense, just like countless other things you suggested doing ever since you two became "a couple". However, most of times he enjoyed doing said activities with you, albeit never getting rid of his wariness and cheeky attitude often accompanied by lewd comments.

Once Jimmy was naked, he folded his arms and looked at you expectantly. It was rather an endearing sight, and as much as you would have loved to memorize every detail and curve of your boyfriend's physique, you opted for flinging the last articles of clothes from your own body.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Get in!"

It's not like Jimmy has never taken a bath before, it was just the one you had prepared he had a problem with. He scowled back at the hot steam rising in puffy clouds, the kind of temperatures he didn't get to experience before on his skin. The water glimmered with a thin orange sheen from the bath bomb you bought at the store, it gave out a nice smell of grapefruit at least. You observed Jimmy eyeing the tub with mistrust, most likely asking himself if this was even appropriate for humans to wash in. You wondered if Jim would ask you if this would leave him more dirty than before he got in or would this give him third degree burns.

"Looks like Satan's cauldron straight up from hell. Are you sure it won't boil me alive?" So it was the second option.

"I take those bathes all the time and look at me: I'm both clean and unharmed. So quickly get in, unless you want me to manhandle you like a cat."

With a dragged out 'fine' Jimmy dipped his foot into the water, waiting for the burn which never came, and then finally sat in the tub with a wince. The water was way hotter to what he was used to, that much was clear: he could feel the warmth instantly envelope his body like he was wrapped in the blanket set on fire. You followed suit, settling behind him and pulling his body from behind to rest against yours.

"Shouldn't it be the other way around?" Jimmy asked, scenes from different movies flashing somewhere in the back of his mind.

"Next time for sure, but now just lay like this and try to relax" you reassured, not offering any further explanations.

And so Jimmy went silent, just resting there in your embrace, watching the flicker of candles you previously scattered around the bathroom "to add to the atmosphere". Being acutely aware of your exposed body just below him, soft and inviting, really put his lower part of the body to a test. It would be so easy for Jimmy to flip around and pin your wrists above your head, to glide his free hand from your wet flustered face down to your bare abdomen. And yet, the man has closed his eyes instead, listening in to the soft melody you put on the background, trusting you this one time. He had already decided that if this bathing time didn't prove to be worthwhile, he would take matters into his own hands instead. Later.

Jimmy almost jolted from his nap when he felt your hands suddenly snake from his chest to his shoulders. Your fingers begun to slowly knead his tense muscles, smoothing out knots formed from the tension. It wasn't easy, but the water managed to relax his body quite a bit for you to work your magic. Meanwhile Jimmy tried his best to suppress the tremor of pleasure running through him each time you found a new spot to massage. Fuck he never knew how badly he needed that. He could moan alone just from this, but he didn't want you to think something weird of him or think he was this easy to please. Still, without any words you could tell Jimmy felt fantastic: the way his body slacken against yours, hear how he silently sighed, and sense his big hand lightly gripping your knee. You swore you heard him swear under his breath when you dipped your thumbs between his shoulders blades.

"Jimmy, the water is getting cold" you hinted. The man understood it was time for washing, so he lazily rose into a sitting position, folding his knees to the chest.

"Mmm I'm awake I'm awake..." Jimmy grumbled when you poured as much water as you could over his head.

"I know silly, I will wash your hair now" you explained, reaching behind to grab a brand new shampoo bottle you bought for Jimmy. That men's "three in one" shampoo will haunt you for days to come, you always wondered who were those men who bought this stuff but here was Jimmy, living under your roof. He even had the nerve to complain about you wasting products when you chucked the bottle to trash.

You carefully rubbed the gel into Jimmy's scalp, humming to the changing tune of the music, minding tangled locks which you gently combed through to even out. As you massaged his head further, the delicious fruity scent followed into Jimmy's nostrils, the smell he initially attributed to lady's shampoo now seeming more unisex than he initially thought. When you lightly scratched his scalp, the man almost let out a purr, leaning into your touch, following your motions. Jimmy washed his hair all the time, why with you it felt so different?

"Like this... this feels good yeah Jimmy?" You cooed into Jimmy's ear. He couldn't see your face but he could hear your smile in your voice. Obviously, Jimmy enjoyed every second of it, but you relished in too, huh...? He couldn't understand why.

Your boyfriend responded with an affirmative hum as you rinsed his hair, tilting his jaw up so the soapy water couldn't get into his eyes.

Another creaky sound of the bottle being opened disturbed an otherwise silent room, of the shower gel Jimmy assumed. He felt a sponge press onto his neck, moving in circles. The man took it as a sign to lower his head and sit tighter, exposing more of his back for you to wash.

Jimmy had a brief moment of clearance appear out of nowhere. Stretching his back like that has never felt so easy before, his skin and muscles would tug at his bones, despite the fact that he practiced weightlifting for so many years. The tension sitting in his body, akin to a spring ready to burst, suddenly just not being there. He couldn't deny that your touch...no, not only that, your care and your presence put his body and mind to the state of ease he couldn't remember feeling ever from anyone else in his life. Hell, when was the last time Jimmy exposed his back like that to anyone? When was the last time someone's hands delicately touched his body with nothing but care?

When was the last time he was taken care of in such an intimate, non sexual way...?

You stoped moving the sponge in your hand when you felt Jimmy's frame lightly shaking. Did you find a ticklish spot? You were about to tease your boyfriend, oblivious to the revelations the man came up with, until you ears picked upon a chipped sob. Your mood suddenly darkened.

"Jim? Hey, what's wrong? Hey...."

The man didn't respond instantly, his shoulders buckling inwards before he spoke "...'s nothing, sorry." He replied as flatly as he could muster, responding to his own reflection on the water.

"Did I do something wro--" you couldn't help asking before your question got cut off.

"Stop. No, don't say that. You didn't do... anything wrong... It's me..."

The last word felt like a punch to the gut. You desperately wanted Jimmy to turn around, for you to wipe his tears away and tell the sweetest reassurance, but you knew it was better to let him be. Jimmy wouldn't want you to see him weeping like this.

"Do you want me to hug you?"

"Yeah..." He stopped briefly "... please".

Without a beat, you carefully laid your warm body on Jimmy's cooling back, putting your cheek on the backside of his shoulder. Your arms embraced his waist protectively, occasionally moving to caress his sides. The water was starting to go cold, the candles almost burned to the end.

The music continued to quietly hum in the corner.

[heejamas]

nicest guy: 7. the aftermath

word count: ~2.6k words

warnings: profanity, sexual jokes, weed consumption, alcohol consumption, jake and hoon hate each other, puking, hangover, crowded party

Every time you had to go to a party, you hated the feeling of it. It wasn’t really because you didn’t like the people – even though you're an introvert, you're the type of person who can hold a casual banter. It wasn’t even because you hated the loud music or the drinking. You love good music and a night of heavy liquor. You just preferred doing all those things (hanging out with your friends, drinking, and listening to music) from the comfort of your own home.

But this time, things seemed different. Sure, the party was super crowded, drunk people everywhere, people bumping into you, people judging your looks. But you were actually having a good time with your friends. That is, until Woonhak sent you that message.

“He did what?!” Sunoo gasped, eyes wide.

“Apparently, he tried to sneak in... and now he’s stuck,” you said, setting your phone down and taking a final sip of your drink before storming out.

“In the bushes?” Giselle asked, raising an eyebrow. “What the hell is wrong with this kid? Jesus…”

“Do you need help?” Sunoo asked, gripping your shoulders before you left.

“Nah, I’m good,” you replied with a small smile, then burst out laughing. “God, why is he like this...”

What you didn’t know was that Sunghoon had been eyeing you all night. He wasn’t sure how to make it sound casual, but he really wanted to get closer to you. His friendship with Jungwon meant a lot to him, so naturally, he wanted to be tight with his twin sister too, just like Jay was. But there was something about you that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He thought you were funny—everyone thought that. But this was the first time he’d seen you up close for more than a few minutes, like those brief encounters in the college hallways when you bumped into Jungwon. Tonight, though, you were way closer. Still, you hadn’t said a word to each other besides "hey” or "how are you” or “this drink is pretty strong”.

So, after downing about 8 or 9 beers and a couple of vodka shots, he figured it was definitely a good idea to talk to you. And then you stormed out. But even then, he still thought it was a great idea to try and help you with whatever was going on.

Only did he know that your cousin - your underage cousin - was trying to sneak into an already crowded party and got trapped in the bushes outside the house.

Sunghoon rushed toward you as you made your way outside. He bumped into you, causing his beer to splash all over the floor—and a little bit on your shoes. “Sorry, sorry! I’m so sorry, Y/n,” he mumbled, clearly tipsy.

“That’s alright,” you laughed at him. “Why aren’t you with Jungwon?” you asked, since you had just seen him a minute ago chatting with Jay and your brother.

“I—I saw you storming out, and I thought you might need help with something.” He looked down at the alcohol stains on his shirt, trying to clean them off with no luck.

“And your drunk ass is going to help me, huh?” You chuckled. “Alright, let’s go outside.”

Sunghoon followed you, even though he had no idea what was going on. And honestly, neither did you. You weren’t sure why you accepted his help. Your friends had offered to come along, but you turned them down. Still, there was something about Sunghoon that made him fun to be around—even if he was drunk as hell. And, yeah… you thought he was kind of cute. Dangerously cute, considering he was one of your twin brother’s best friends.

The moment you stepped outside the house, Sunghoon leaned against a column on the balcony, eyes closed.

“Are you okay?” you asked, stepping closer and gently placing your hand on his shoulder. “I can grab you some water.”

“No, no need,” he muttered, his eyes still shut. He took a deep breath, opened his eyes, and suddenly found himself staring at you. You were standing there, looking up at him with your hand on his shoulder, offering help in the sweetest way possible. You looked cute as hell.

His best friend's twin sister looking cute as hell.

Sunghoon quickly got to his feet, stepping back from you like he just realized he was getting too close to danger. “Thanks, though. So, where are we going?”

You thought it was weird how he moved away so suddenly, but then again—he was wasted.

“So… do you know Woonhak?” you asked, to which he nodded.

“Well, he tried to sneak into the party, and now he’s stuck in the bushes. So we’re going to help him out.”

He blinked at you, clearly trying to process your words, but his drunk brain was too busy thinking about how cute you looked to focus on anything else.

Sunghoon followed you as you walked around the side of the house, looking for any sign of your cousin hiding in the bushes. Yeonjun’s frat house was massive—basically a mansion. People were still pouring in, and the party was getting way more packed than it had any right to be.

You pulled out your phone to text Woonhak and ask where the hell he was. That’s when Sunghoon placed a hand on your shoulder. He mumbled something you couldn’t quite catch, so you turned to face him.

“What was that?”

“I’m gonna…”

And then it happened.

He threw up right beside you. Your shoes were instantly soaked in vomit.

You were in shock. You had no idea what to do. Sunghoon was mumbling at you, but your brain was way too foggy from the unpleasant surprise.

“Fuck, Y/n. I-I’m so…” And then he threw up again. This time, right on a bush.

“Oh. My. God.” You heard a familiar voice from the bushes. “Is that puke? What the fuck! Oh my God, I’m gonna barf.”

“Woonhak?!” you yelled, still in disbelief. “Is that you?”

“Y/n?!” your cousin shouted back. “What the hell, dude?!”

“I’m with Sunghoon, he came to help. But, uh… he’s feeling sick.” You watched Sunghoon flop onto the grass next to you, yanking off his jacket. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m gonna clean your shoes.” Sunghoon mumbled, placing his jacket on your shoes and attempting to wipe them off, with zero luck.

“No, Sunghoon, you don’t have to—“ You stood there, frozen, watching the mess unfold. You leaned into him, grabbed his arms, and awkwardly pulled him up. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

He draped his arms over your shoulder, but he was way heavier than you expected. By now, you had already abandoned your shoes, and you yelled back at your cousin, still stuck in the bushes.

“Woonhak, I’ll get someone else to pull you outta there! Hold on!”

Woonhak yelled back, clearly pissed off by your response. But you were way too focused on not gagging from the smell of vomit to even care about what your cousin was saying.

You stumbled into the house with Sunghoon slumped against your shoulder, and, by some miracle, you found a bathroom that wasn’t already occupied. The house was packed, and it was starting to feel a little claustrophobic. As you made your way to the bathroom, you had to elbow your way through the crowd—people giving you weird looks as the smell of vomit followed you and Sunghoon like a shadow.

And of course, one of those people was Jake. The college quarterback, who had a major crush on you and hated Sunghoon with a burning passion.

But Jake didn’t even notice you were the one carrying Sunghoon. He was way too focused on finding yourself in the crowd. When you bumped into him, he didn’t even register it was you—he was too busy trying to spot you through the sea of drunk college students. Not that he wasn’t tipsy himself, but he wasn’t Sunghoon-level wasted yet. He was just tipsy enough to be a mess.

“Still haven’t found her?” Niki asked, handing Jake another round of beer in a red solo cup.

“Nope,” Jake muttered, taking a sip and continuing his search.

“What are you gonna do if you actually find her, though?” Heeseung chimed in. “I mean, you see her around all the time, and yeah, she texted you out of nowhere, but you still don’t have the guts to actually talk to her.”

Jake shot Heeseung a look. “You’re saying way too much for someone who can’t even text in English.”

Heeseung rolled his eyes. “Whatever, dude. You’re gonna be drooling over her for the rest of your life if you don’t do something.”

Jake knew Heeseung was right. He’d had a crush on you for way longer than he could remember, but he never actually talked to you. At this point, he was pretty sure you didn’t even know what he looked like. And that was kind of shocking, because Jake was the starting quarterback. Everyone knew Jake. Hell, even your cousin Woonhak was practically fangirling over him. So the fact that you didn’t give a shit about him had Jake way more intrigued than he probably should’ve been. And, just to make things worse, you looked hot as hell.

“Alright, I’m gonna wash my face for a bit,” Jake muttered, turning away from his friends and heading for the nearest bathroom—the one you and Sunghoon had just entered.

The door wasn’t locked, so Jake swung it open without a second thought—only to freeze when he saw what was happening. There you were, standing at the sink, trying (and failing) to clean Sunghoon’s shirt while he sat on the toilet, bare-chested and totally wasted.

Jake was stunned. He couldn’t even process what he was seeing. You—his ultimate crush—with his nemesis, sitting half-naked and drunk as hell, right beside you.

“Can I help you?” you asked, clearly a little annoyed, as Jake stood there, completely frozen, staring at you.

“Sorry, I just…” Jake mumbled, his words stumbling over each other. “Sorry, I’ll leave.” Then he slammed the door shut, still in shock.

He leaned against the bathroom door, trying to process what he’d just seen. You were just cleaning his shirt, he thought. There was the overwhelming smell of vomit in the air, so Jake had connected the dots. Still, he felt this annoying twinge of jealousy. Not because Sunghoon was puking and you were helping him out, no. It was because Sunghoon was close to you. And Jake hated that.

“You look like you just saw a ghost,” Beomgyu said when Jake finally rejoined his friends.

“I did. I saw Sunghoon,” Jake muttered, taking a long gulp of his beer.

“So what? You see him at practice all the time.”

“I saw him with Y/n. In the bathroom. Just now,” Jake practically whispered, like he was sharing a dark secret.

“Oh.” Beomgyu and Heeseung’s eyes went wide. “In the bathroom? Doing what?”

“She was cleaning his shirt, I guess. He was sitting naked on the toilet,” Jake sighed.

“Naked?!” All his friends gasped in unison. Jake was already drowning in stress and embarrassment.

“Half-naked. I think he got sick or something. It smelled awful in there. She was probably just helping him out.” He snorted. “I swear to God, we have practice on Monday. Is he seriously going to show up hungover like that?”

Jake didn’t stop to think about the fact that he himself had been drinking. But right now, all he could focus on was how pissed he was that you—his ultimate crush—were stuck with his nemesis. He needed to blame someone, and Sunghoon was as good a target as any.

Meanwhile, you had already called Jungwon to help you out. He said he’d get Woonhak out of the bushes and suggested you and Sunghoon head out of the house since it was getting way too crowded.

So, you agreed. Now, you were sitting on the balcony with Sunghoon beside you—completely wasted, his shirt half-dry, half-wet, while you were barefoot and trying not to look like a mess. And, in the midst of all this chaos, there was just one thought running through your mind: I should’ve stayed home.

“I’m so… so sorry, Y/n,” Sunghoon mumbled, barely getting the words out as he leaned heavily against the wall. His face was pale as he’d just emptied his entire stomach.

“It’s fine. These things happen,” you replied, trying to steady your breathing and avoid focusing too much on the situation.

“No, really.” His gaze met yours, his eyes soft and unfocused, and despite everything, you found yourself noticing how round and gentle they looked. “You never come to these parties… I feel like I ruined it for you.”

“You didn’t,” you reassured him. “You were just trying to help.” You weren’t sure if Sunghoon was the type to cry when he drank too much, but you figured it was better not to find out.

“I just wanted to get closer to you,” he admitted quietly, the words broken up by a hiccup.

You handed him the cup of water you’d brought over, watching as he accepted it like it was some grand gesture. The vulnerability in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed.

“Why?” you asked softly.

“Because Jay’s close to you, and he’s not your brother's BFF. I am.” His expression twisted into a slight pout, and you couldn’t help but let out a quiet laugh.

“Right,” you said, giving his knee a gentle pat. “But I think you’re more like Jungwon’s best friend, Sunghoon.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Really?”

You smiled, knowing he probably wouldn’t remember any of this tomorrow—and honestly, you hoped he wouldn’t. You just wanted to him not feel so bad aboud the fact that he just threw up at your shoes.

At this point, Jake had fully committed to getting obliterated tonight. So, he and Heeseung knocked back a couple of vodka shots and decided to light up a joint on the balcony. As they stepped outside, Jake was on a mission to find a quiet corner, but then he saw you again. With Sunghoon. This time, he wasn’t half-naked, but that didn’t stop Jake from being pissed.

Without thinking, Jake stormed off, leaving Heeseung standing there, completely baffled by what was going on with his best friend.

“Is he bothering you?” Jake snapped, glaring down at you and Sunghoon. His eyes flicked to your bare feet. “You need shoes? I can get Yeonjun to grab you some.”

“No, he’s not bothering me. And no, thanks,” you shot back, annoyed.

Jake realized then that he had definitely had more to drink than he could handle. And seeing you with Sunghoon like that? Not helping.

“Well, because he’s always bothering. He’s gonna show up at practice on Monday hungover, and gonna mess everything up,” Jake mumbled, drunk as a skunk.

“What?!” You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re gonna be just as hungover on Monday! Why are you beefing on him like that?”

“Is he your friend?” Jake asked, slurring the words a little too much.

“Well, no—” You started to answer, but then someone screamed from the front of the house.

“The cops are coming!”

Panic spread like wildfire. Everyone started running around like chickens, and when you tried to help Sunghoon stand, you got hit with another surprise.

Jake. Threw. Up.

This time, not on you.

But on Sunghoon’s feet.

You froze. Is this real life? You thought. Are the introvert Gods punishing me for turning down a quiet Mario Kart night and takeout?

Your brain kicked into survival mode. You grabbed Sunghoon and Jake, half-dragging them toward a room. As you tried to remember where the hell Woonhak was, you spotted a basement door. Without missing a beat, you ran toward it.

You flung open the door, dragged the two of them inside, and Sunghoon collapsed on the bed and passed out immediately.

The room was clearly a student’s lair—posters of bands you’d never heard of and manly stuff you couldn’t care less about, but whatever. You had bigger problems.

Jake, meanwhile, had found a trash can and was busy making sure it was filled to the brim with his own vomit. You stood there, completely stunned, trying to process the insanity. Your brother’s best friend was face down on a random bed, unconscious. The college quarterback who hated Sunghoon’s guts was puking into someone else’s trash can. You were barefoot, in a party you never wanted to be at, with cops outside because the place was literally bursting at the seams.

And oh yeah, your cousin was still stuck in the bushes.

Was he? Did Jungwon help him out?

And now, you were trapped in that basement. And you didn't know what to do.

prev | masterlist | next

author's note: HEY GUYS this is the first pov i write, sorry this is longer than usual 😭 btw this is pure chaos and it happened something really similar to a friend of mine, believe it or not. anyways!! hope you guys enjoy it 🤍

taglist: @jayparked @jungwonsstrawberriesnchocolate @kixri @soobnuuy @dreamiestay @somuchdard @nyyoryyu @atinyrosedoor @enhaverse713586 @miszes @wildtigerlili @hoonkishoe @wilonevys @m1dn1ghtv1olet

[ladytauria]

things unspoken (now said)

Pairing: Tim Drake/Jason Todd Rating: Teen Words: 19k Warnings: None

When Dick asks for help with a case, Jason and Tim find themselves undercover as a couple to lure a killer out of hiding.

This is fine. Except for one problem…

They broke up two months ago, after no one knew they were dating in the first place.

written for the red on red holidays event! this one’s been up for a couple of days but authors were just revealed today <3

>> AO3 <<

“I am so sorry.”

Jason’s hand is still clutching Tim’s, a little too tightly to be comfortable. Tim still doesn’t make any effort to pull away. He’s pathetic like that.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jason says immediately. His other hand is braced around the elbow of the man who just crashed into him, keeping him from sprawling to the floor. The man’s coffee wasn’t so lucky. Most of it is splattered over the front of Jason’s sweater, though some also landed on the floor and the other man’s jacket. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he says, shaking his head and stepping away. It lets Tim get a better look at him. The man is taller than he is, though not as tall as Jason. His face is rather plain—the kind of face that Tim’s eyes could just skip right over, if not for the fact he’s spent the last several days studying it intently.

This is Alexander Miller, avid skier and one of two suspects in the case he’s currently working with Jason.

It says something about his life that this isn’t the first time he’s had to pretend to be happily in love with his ex. What, exactly, it says, he’s not sure—except maybe that he needs to stop giving in when Dick asks him for favors.

Not that Dick knew what he was asking. He was under the impression, as was the rest of the world, that Tim and Jason had never been anything more than just friends.

“Your shirt—”

Jason glances down and grimaces. The coffee is already sinking into the fabric, turning what was a nice off-white into something more beige. Tim reluctantly disentangles his fingers from Jason to pat himself down for napkins.

Alexander beats him to it. He fishes a brown paper bag off of the floor and pulls a wad of napkins out, holding them out. “Here, maybe these will help.”

“Thanks,” Jason says, pulling his sweater taut to dab at the stain. “Sorry ‘bout your coffee.”

Tim kneels. He knows he packed some wipes in his carry on—and if he can’t find them, then he’s sure there will be some in Jason’s.

“No, don’t apologize,” Miller says as he kneels again. This time to retrieve his cup and throw it in the bag the napkins had come from. He uses the napkins that had been wrapped around it to mop up the spill as best he can—there aren’t enough to do the job properly, though, and streaks are left behind. “I should have been paying more attention to where I was going. I hope I didn’t ruin your sweater.”

A-ha! Tim finds the wipes where he’d stuffed them and zips his bag up again. He bats Jason’s hand away so he can scrub at the front of his shirt. As soon as he starts, a wave of regret hits him.

This is the closest he’s been to him in… nearly two months. The scent of coffee nearly overpowers that of Jason’s aftershave… but even that much of a whiff of it makes his throat feel tight, his eyes burning.

Not now, Drake. You have a job to do.

He doesn’t have much confidence in his ability to repress his feelings this time. Jason’s presence has a way of eroding all of his self-control.

“Nah, it’ll come out in the wash,” Jason says. “Little cold water and some spot treatment will take care of this no problem—right, baby?”

Tim glances up and finds Jason looking at him—the expression on his face is so soft it makes him ache. He makes himself smile back. He can tell Jason sees the tension in it because for just a moment, a muscle tics in his jaw before it relaxes again.

“Right,” he says.

Tim thinks he’s done as much as he can for the stain now—the fabric is damp with both coffee and the cleaning solution in the wipes. There will be no telling what the damage actually is until it’s had time to dry.

He glances up at Jason again, grimacing slightly. Sorry. Think that’s the best it’s going to get.

Jason’s shoulder twitches; a brief facsimile of a shrug. It is what it is. I’ll deal with it later.

Tim steps back. Alexander holds the paper bag out, allowing Tim and Jason to throw the used napkins and wipes away before he crumples the end.

“This place is busier than I expected,” Alexander says, scanning the area. They’re waiting for a tram to arrive to take them up to the ski lodge, which is about halfway up the mountain. “I thought for sure it would be quieter this year.”

“Oh?” Tim asks. Jason’s fingers tangle with his again. He steps closer to him, until their arms are brushing. It feels so natural it takes Tim a moment to remember why it shouldn’t be. Jason’s thumb strokes over his knuckles, and Tim aches.

It’s unfair. Something should have changed, after everything—but if anything it feels like it’s even easier now than it ever was before. Tim remembers sweaty palms and too-tight grips as they fumbled through the most innocent of romantic gestures.

He supposes, somewhere along the way, they must have finally gotten it right.

Alexander’s mouth tightens so briefly Tim almost misses it. “Ah—I don’t suppose either of you have looked into the local news then.” He laughs uncomfortably.

“No. Our flight just got in an hour or so ago,” Jason says. “Did something happen?”

This time, Alexander doesn’t bother suppressing his grimace. “Not recently.” He pushes his hand through his hair as he shifts uncomfortably. “Look—the last thing I want to do is put a damper on your holiday, but—well. I suppose you ought to know. A few months ago, they found a body in the forest around the lodge.”

Interesting.

Not the fact itself—that Tim knew. It’s the language he can’t help picking apart. ‘They found a body’ and not ‘someone was murdered.’ But even more importantly: Alexander only mentions one, and not that this is one in a series of four murders taking place over a period of about three years.

Of course, his cover doesn’t know that, so his eyes widen in artificial surprise. “That’s horrible. Was it an accident?”

Alexander shakes his head mutely.

“Did they catch the one who did it?” Jason asks, using his grip on Tim’s hand to draw him in closer.

Tim’s heartbeat quickens in his chest.

“No.” Alexander doesn’t elaborate further. Tim supposes he doesn’t blame him—he’s not sure he would want to confess to a pair of strangers that he was a suspect in a murder case either.

The ski lodge is far enough away from Gotham that normally, the murders wouldn’t have attracted their attention… if it weren’t for Dick. Or, rather, Richie Grayson. He came up with a group of civilian friends—or, well, ‘friends’—and learned of the murder through happenstance. Obviously, he couldn’t resist digging deeper.

He’d found that this murder was one of four, which have taken place over a period of about three years. All of the victims had been vacationing at the lodge before their bodies were found in the surrounding pines. Two of the victims had been men, the other two were women. They worked different jobs, lived in different places, and had little in common physically. However, all of them had been in relationships at the time of visiting the lodge, and all four couples had been seen spending time with Mikayla Vaughn, ski teacher, and Alexander Miller, hobbyist skier.

There had been another name, too—Jack Manning, a bartender at the Lodge. He had been investigated in connection to murder number three after he’d been seen arguing with the victim. However, while he was in custody, a few weeks before his trial date, the fourth murder had been committed.

It was more brutal than the previous three, and unlike the others, it had taken place during the off season.

The case against Jack had been dropped—for now—and he’d been released. He had not come back to work at the Lodge.

Given the sloppiness of the last kill, and the break in pattern, Dick believes that the killer is going to strike again soon. Being otherwise occupied, though, there’s not much he can do to investigate.

So… he’d called Tim and Jason in to help instead.

Alexander seems to shake himself. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.” His face smooths into an apologetic smile. “Look, why don’t you let me make things up to you? I’m heading up to the lodge to grab drinks with a friend. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if you joined us. Drinks will be on me.” He winks.

It’s almost charming.

Tim glances up at Jason. Jason’s head cocks in silent question. At Tim’s slight nod, they both turn back to Alex.

“We’d love to,” Jason says.

“Excellent.” Alexander holds his hand out. “The name’s Alex, by the way.”

Jason shakes it. “Jay. And this is my boyfriend, Tim.”

Tim shakes Alex’s hand next—the man has a good grip. “It’s a pleasure to meet both of you.”

>> AO3 <<

[theamityelf]

i am bringing you the good word about ishiouma aka ishimaru x kokichi, if one desires further explanation please look at their event together in the v3 bonus mode where kokichi is basically flirting with him the entire time all "wow you're really not boring im so glad to have someone here for my evil schemes to go against, hey how about i burn the world down so you can rebuild it better?' like just kiss him already

No explanation needed; I've actually written about them a bit before! 😁

A couple of mini-ideas that popped into my head for them (I can write something in-depth for them at a later date, lol):

Taka and Kokichi both working on a school election. Maybe they're running against each other (in which case, of course Kokichi is up to something there; he almost definitely intends for Taka to win), or maybe Kokichi is directly helping with Taka's campaign, etc.

Taka and Kokichi cleaning a classroom together. Taka has given Kokichi this task for detention, because Kokichi is the one who messed up the room in the first place. Taka is helping, perhaps because Kokichi is pretending he doesn't know how to use a broom. Cue quality time!

Taka is a volunteer chaperone for a field trip the 79th class is taking, and Kokichi keeps causing trouble to get his attention. (This is basically just taking their dynamic at school and moving the setting to an aquarium or something.)

Taka is trying to get students with good grades to tutor students with bad grades, and Kokichi happens to be one of his class's high achievers. Just a conversation between them in which Taka is trying to convince Kokichi to tutor one of his classmates and Kokichi is being silly to prolong the interaction.

Alternatively, Taka tutors Kokichi. Maybe Kokichi genuinely doesn't understand the subject, or maybe he understands everything fine but just doesn't feel motivated to do his work. Either way, Taka can certainly help with that.

Okay, this one's corny, but stay with me here: So, Taka catches Kokichi in the kitchen when he's not supposed to be, and he's making a bunch of sandwiches. Taka chastens him about that, but the food is already made, and it's wrong to waste food, so he lets Kokichi put the sandwiches in a basket, and blah blah blah ultimately this culminates in Kokichi running off, Taka chasing him, and they have a picnic with all the sandwiches because that was Kokichi's plan the whole time. Kokichi tells Taka that it's his birthday so Taka has to eat with him; it's his one wish! And Taka goes along with it and then maybe checks Kokichi's records to see if the birthday thing was true. (Either way, Kokichi's getting a detention for misuse of the kitchen.)

Just the various ways Taka preemptively averts Kokichi's hijinks. Like, maybe Kokichi was about to sneak into a room where he stashed some bottles of spray paint, but Taka is already waiting inside with a stern, knowing look. "Looking for this?" (Taka holds up the spray paint.) Kokichi starts to flee but just ends up stumbling. "Looking for these?" (Taka holds up some wheels.) "When did you steal the wheels from my heelies?!" "Heelies aren't allowed! They scuff the floor!"

[cel-aerion]

Alright, so, while (re)watching First Nights at Freddy’s, I noticed that there are at least a couple instances of MatPat’s character and Glitchtrap saying similar things or expressing similar sentiments:

-“You wanted to force my hand, didn’t you? Be careful what you wish for.” / “Force my hand, and you’ll pay.”

-“I drove away the light ‘til I was numb.” / “I didn’t really understand the concept [of evil] at first, but the more I watched you sniveling skinbags, all your lies and hypocrisy and corruption, the more I embraced it.”

-Both have instances where they reply to one character telling another, “I’ll be right behind you,” with “No, you won’t.” This one feels especially notable, since the musical is basically bookended by these scenes.

So this got me thinking, maybe there’s more of a link between these two than there appears to be.

So, spoilers and random headcanons under the cut.

So here’s what we know, or at least what we can infer:

-When William Afton was killed, Henry had already killed or attempted killing, as shown by the fact that when William found the Crying Child, he already knew what was going on and what Henry's intention was.

-Presumably, this was after Glitchtrap had been locked away, otherwise no one would have been there to do it.

-Despite apparently being created for personal use, Glitchtrap actually resided in a company computer, or else wiping the old files wouldn't have freed him. Which means that it's possible Henry was aware of him in some way.

-Henry was shown to have a wedding ring*, suggesting he has, or at least had, a family - probably the latter, since he switches identities so easily.

*I am fully aware this is probably just because MatPat doesn't tend to take his actual wedding ring off. I also don’t care, because I’m having fun. Besides, I would hope that MatPat, of all people, would appreciate someone looking into tiny details and coming up with explanations for them

-Therefore, it's probable that at some point, Henry *lost* that family. We don't get any confirmation of this, or any indication that he ever had a kid, but Henry Emily did have a child who died young in the FNAF novels - this is not evidence that it happened in the musical, of course, but it at least supports that possibility.

So consider:

William has this advanced AI on a company computer. Henry, who's lost a child of his own in the past, somehow learns of the suggestion made to William to “replace his dead child with one of the many unsupervised kids flocking to his family diner each day” - perhaps William talks to him about this AI, maybe Henry stumbled on it accidentally, but either way, unlike William, he likes the idea. Maybe he tries straight kidnapping at first, then killed when the child was uncooperative, discovering he enjoyed it, or maybe he took it too far from the start. Either way, that’s what starts him on that path.

When Glitchtrap first appears, he mentions the murders in the restaurant, though he thinks they were done by William (“Or [take] your uncle, an upstanding business manager, using his restaurant as cover to murder kids in his spare time.”). Which suggests two things: That there is evidence of the murders on the computer - also supported by the fact that Henry wanted the old files wiped clean - and that Glitchtrap is still aware of what's going on in the computer system, even if he doesn't know who's actually adding it.

(Side note, but this probably added to Glitchtrap’s frustrations: Imagine being locked away for your ideas being “too extreme”, only to have your jailer then go even more extreme.)

All this is to say, it's possible that, even though they didn't really know each other, Glitchtrap was influenced/shaped by Henry, even if just because Henry was using that computer under William’s name, and Glitchtrap was picking up on what he left behind.

This also offers a possible backstory for Henry. The closest we get to learning his motivations are his lines in Dark Remains, and though they don’t really say anything about what that motivation is, the song implies that he was driven to it and it was a conscious decision, he wasn’t just dark from the start. If he thought doing so would restore his family in some way, or if he failed in that and started looking for retribution instead… well.

...

Subtheory That I’m Not Really Serious About but Think Would Be Interesting: Imagine if Henry and William were partners in more than one way, and so the child lost in the car accident was one they both lost. This is thrown off because Glitchtrap mentions that William lost his child and wife in that accident. But this idea hopped in my brain before I remembered that line, and I was too amused, so I wanted to share anyways.

[whentherewerebicycles]

I cannot survive this day lol

[seilon]

just wrote like three paragraphs ranting about my living situation and deleted it just know I am going insane and i hate it here and I need to live by my fucking self or I am going to absolutely fucking lose it

[weaselle]

i had to make a solution for this for myself, mostly because of depression, but it makes a nice How To for folks who are low on spoons or could use some help in the kitchen.

Fortunately i was a professional cook for over a decade. UNfortunately the first post i made explaining it was suuuuper long. Let's see if i can do better

So you select any protein that you can cook in a frying pan -- chicken breasts, ground beef, pork chops, sausages, steak, chicken thighs, whatever. You also select one or two types of veggie (mushrooms or tubers also work, i just did this with potatoes and carrots for dinner tonight).

[i like cooking for vegetarians, but this is how i cook for myself when i'm low on spoons - perhaps i'll do another post for meatless meals]

You'll also need some kind of oil, and a sauce or two of your choice in a bottle. All cooking gear is a large frying pan with lid (i prefer non-stick) a spatula, a cutting board, and a knife.

You cut the veggies into bite size pieces, cut up enough for two meals. One kind of veggie is fine, or you can do mix two or three

Put frying pan on medium heat with a little oil. Tubers or mushrooms or go in the pan a few minutes before the protein. 2 portions of the protein goes in the pan, about 5 minutes with lid (don't worry you can still get a good sear on both sides)

Now flip your protein if it's flip-able and add normal veggies, put the lid back on another five-ish minutes.

Take your protein out and put it with one portion of the veggies in a microwave safe container. That's going to be your lunch tomorrow. Put the other portion of protein on a plate to rest (you have to let a cooked protein sit a couple minutes before you serve it or when you cut into it all the juices run out and it goes dry - the liquids thicken as it cools, preventing this drying out if you let it rest, the goal is to serve it very warm but not hot hot)

While it's resting, pour some sauce from your bottle in the pan with the rest of the veggies and turn up the heat. A single sauce/bottle is fine, i like to get fancy and mix a couple. Two examples of personal favorite mixes are 1: bbq sauce and a hot sauce like sriracha 2: roughly equal parts low sodium soy sauce and worcestershire (makes something similar to a teriyaki sauce) A swallow of wine is almost always a great option if you want to add that to your sauce too, just add it to the pan before the other sauces so the alcohol has time to burn off.

...

Here is the important bit. While your veggies are finishing, wash your cutting board and chef knife. Then when you dump your veggies and sauce over your protein on the plate, while it is still too hot to eat, you wash your frying pan and spatula before you eat. Now the only dishes you have left to do are your plate and fork. Maybe a steak knife.

...

The whole thing takes about 35 minutes even with washing the dishes, and that includes your lunch for the next day- just pour a different sauce on and stick it in the microwave for a couple minutes (or five minutes back in the frying pan) and you have a full healthy lunch with a different flavor

You can use this technique every single meal and it yields hundreds of combinations, from pork and potatoes bbq, to salmon and broccoli teriyaki, to chicken and zucchini in a soy glaze.

It will keep you down to less than an hour of kitchen time per day total for both lunch and dinner including all dish clean up, uses the least dishes, the least effort, requires the least technique, and is, depending on what you pick out, very affordable

here are a couple more examples from this month; i didn’t take pictures of the salmon i did recently, but you get the idea

it's not super fancy, but it is easy, affordable, quick, and any flavors you want. Hope this helps some folks

Happy Cooking!

[sakurarisen]

Gonna be tweaking some stuff for Sera's FF7 verse in the coming days! <3 Picked up Rebirth again and everyone who knows me knows I can't play Genshin or FF7 without my brain going brrrrrr, and since this is the first time I've started playing since the new (distant!) backstory for Sera really got into full swing for its development... The brrrrrs are really going a mile a minute. XD There's also a lot I've had in mind for things regarding this verse I've just never written down or put into play in general for a long time, and frankly? It's about time I gave it all an update. <3

My plan right now is to add to Sera's carrd with this new info, and I'm in talks with @yoroiis / @honorisen to make sure it makes sense and works out, given it also includes her and her muses, but it's going to take a few to get it done - So just count this post as a 'pardon the mess, we're upgrading'! <3

~Pom

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Disney princess Danny

It’s known that animals can sense death. Instances where pets gravitate to someone on their death bed and dogs barking at ghosts. Danny already knew this from before he half died, so he was expecting animals to rat him out with their sixth sense or become aggressive or cower from him. Instead, they all behaved the complete opposite than he anticipated.

Stray cats come running to rub against his legs, dogs nearly pull arms out of their owners sockets to get close to him, birds bring him trinkets, raccoons lead him to trash cans full of food, and even squirrels and rats get close to just sit on his shoulders. It’s… weird, but not unwelcome. He always loved animals.

Danny had come to semi-trust the animals that come to him. They know where the good food is and drinking water, they know when to steer away from a certain area right before something happens, and they always know when a person is bad or okay. So when an animal leads him somewhere, he follows. Sometimes they need help and he’s the one they go to. He’s helped plenty of raccoons out of garbage bins and cats out of gutters to have a good relationship with the animals of the streets.

What he isn’t expecting is to be led to Robin again and again.

The first time it was a cat. A mangy old Tom cat that rubbed against his torn up jeans and looked back with - Danny swears- a raised eyebrow. Danny follows and soon enough he finds himself standing a few paces away from Robin who is kneeling down to give clean water to the momma cat and her three kittens.

Robin freezes and so does Danny. They stare at each other.

“Um, hi?”

Robin straightens immediately, leaving the water on the ground where the cats can drink. Tom cat swaggers over to guard them.

“Civilian. Is there something I can assist you with?”

The dude is probably a year or two younger than Danny himself and he has to suppress a smile at the formal tone.

“Oh, uh, no? The cat just led me here.”

He can see Robin glance at the Tom cat who was now licking himself.

“Is that so?”

“Yea. Sorry to interrupt. Animals just like me for some reason.”

The three kittens one by one all totter over to him on unsteady legs after they had their fill. The orange one starts trying to climb his pant leg with its short and sharp claws digging into the jean material.

“They really like me.”

He carefully sits down crossed legged so the others could also climb all over him. Robin watches for a moment silently and when he sees Danny react well to the little pricks from tiny claws, he seems it safe enough to return to patrol.

The second time it’s a couple of rats that lure him away to find Robin fighting off more thugs than he probably should by himself. So taking the rats’ movements as encouragement, he takes the closest thing, a piece of plywood, and hit the nearest guy over the head with it. The guy crumbles like a wet sock and Danny is moving on to the next thug.

They sweep the floor with these guys with only a few splinters and a twisted ankle.

“It was dangerous to intervene,” Robin tells him. “I had it handled.”

“Yea, I know.”

The vigilante didn’t seem to be expecting that response from his stunned silence. He straightens as much as he can with bruised ribs.

“Well, I’m glad you know your mistake. Don’t let it happen again.”

Danny neither agrees nor disagrees, just shrugs and allow the rats to climb up his leg to his shoulder. Robin looks at them curiously. Danny gives a salute before leaving. Robin gives him a nod.

The third time it happened the roles are reversed.

Some people from the local gang are bullying the lonely, homeless teen to run drugs for them. They don’t seem to understand the word ‘no’. It gets to the point where Danny finds himself with his back against the wall and all his exits blocked with a guy shoving him again and again.

“Stop it!”

“I’ll stop if you agree.”

“I’m not doing it!”

Frank the raccoon and his buddy Bobby launch themselves at the guy’s ankles. The guy shrieks and pulls a gun.

“No!”

Before Danny can dive for it, a projectile comes out of nowhere to knock it out of his hands. He can’t even process what happened before the three are running away, two raccoons chattering at their heels before coming back to crowd him in worry.

Danny looks up to see Robin with a sword out threateningly, staring at where the three fled. He sheaths the sword after a few seconds.

“Are you okay?”

Danny realizes he’s breathing a little heavy and slows down a bit as he leans over to pet the top of the two heads.

“I’m- yea, I’m okay. Thanks for the save. Those guys were jerks.”

“I’m inclined to agree.”

Robin is staring at the raccoons and it takes Danny a long moment to piece things together.

“Did- did they lead you to me?”

Robin doesn’t answer right away.

“You have loyal friends.”

Danny smiles at the weird compliment. Looking down at the two heroes of the evening Danny is also inclined to agree.

The fourth time is funny in a way Danny doesn’t know how to describe.

It was the pigeons. They were at fault of course for how Robin’s secret identity was outed. By pigeons.

The grey birds swarmed Danny and settled in a cloud of feathers. One holding something in its beak before plopping it down in his lap like a golden retriever. It flaps off as Danny picks up the obvious wallet clip holding quite a bit of cash and a student ID. The card says Damian Wayne from Gotham Academy. Just then Robin comes skidding around the corner, clearly out of breath and freezes.

Danny looks down at the clip in his hand and back up at the vigilante. He looks at the crazy amount of birds around him and again at the vigilante.

Said vigilante straightens and approaches like he called Danny there.

“If I could have that so I could return it to its proper owner.”

He holds out a hand with false arrogance, but Danny can see the nervousness in his stance. Danny looks down one last time before putting the clip in the outstretched hand without a word.

Robin nods once, pockets the ID and money, and immediately leaves.

The fifth time just cements what Danny had already figured out.

He was at the park. Not Ivy’s park of course, the one where people actually like to go. He was helping the squirrels find and hide acorns when he’s nearly knocked over by a massive black dog.

“Titus!”

The end of the Great Dane’s leash is a familiar face. Damian Wayne’s eyes widen in recognition as he finally sees who Titus was so excited to get to.

“Uh-“

Danny has to close his mouth quickly or else the massive tongue on his face would have turned into a French kiss.

“Titus! Heel!”

Danny laughs at the embarrassed blush on the other’s face, obviously not used to his companion going off the rails like this.

“It’s alright. We both know how animals like me.”

Damian narrows his eyes to analyze the teen. Danny wasn’t about to pretend and Damian looked like he was debating whether to follow his lead or not. There was literally no one within hearing distance.

“Have you told anyone?”

Danny thought about redirecting, but thought better of it. He actually liked Robin and what he did.

“Nope. I haven’t and I won’t. I swear.”

Damian tilts his head and then looks down at Titus. He seems to come to a decision before looking back at Danny.

“You’re homeless, are you not?”

Didn’t think they were being that direct but sure.

“Yea?”

“I will pay you in food and shelter to take care of my animals.”

Danny blinks. Then actually considers the offer.

“What kind of animals? How many we talking?”

Damian grins.

The family finds out pretty quickly when a teen they’ve never seen before walks into the Batcave with two pails of food for the bats, Titus at his heels and Alfred the cat perched contently on his shoulders.

Duke stares and Bruce short circuits.

“Um, who are you?”

“Hi! I’m Danny. Damian employed me to take care of the animals.”

“O…kay?”

“And where is Damian?” Bruce sounds like it physically hurts to ask and Danny does not envy Damian’s position right now.

“Upstairs. I think he said he was going to his art studio.”

Bruce marches past the boy to the stairs before stopping abruptly and turning to Danny and Duke.

“Don’t touch anything. Watch him.”

Duke and Danny blink at each other for a moment as Bruce disappears up the stairs.

“I’m Duke by the way.”

Danny grins.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Doting

Tags: jjk men as dads, tooth-rotting fluff, comfort drabbles

Synopsis: How the JJK men treat you while pregnant (spoiler warning- they dote on you.)

An: This is my formal apology for writing Nanami angst on the “Baby’s first words” post 😔 it will never happen again (can we stop with the death threats now?)

SATORU • SUGURU • TOJI • SUKUNA • NANAMI

SATORU

Oh, your loving husband is all over you while you’re pregnant. He genuinely has such a cute fascination with all the changes your body is going through. He seriously thinks you’re so strong for carrying his heir.

He loves rubbing your bump. In fact, he will always be touching it in some form or fashion while you two are together. When he’s away on missions, he has you send him pictures and updates on your pregnancy as if anything major has changed in a couple of days.

You best believe he is ready to indulge you on your every craving, no matter how strange. It’s three a.m and you’re crying because you need that specific brand of chicken wings and a can of whip cream? He’s heading to the store immediately to fetch whatever you tell him to.

He genuinely worries about being a good dad. Many nights he lays his head on your bump and talks to you about how teaching didn’t come naturally to him. He wasn’t born knowing how to meet people where they’re at. He use to expect people to be able to meet him on his level. He worries that he may inadvertently put a lot of pressure on his kid, and that’s the last thing he wants due to how he was raised. He just wants his kid to be a kid.

He’s the best, most loving and compassionate dad to your baby, more than you could ever hope for. Even if teaching didn’t come to him naturally, being a father did.

SUGURU

He’s such a “sit down and let me do it for you” while you’re pregnant. He cooks, cleans, works, and tends to you completely throughout your pregnancy.

Suguru gets hyper fixated on your health during pregnancy. He only feeds you the yummiest and healthiest foods while you’re pregnant. He encourages for you to sit on the yoga ball and do (very) light exercises. He just wants the best for you and his baby.

Whenever I said he tends to you, I genuinely mean he tends to you. He’ll gently brush your hair at night time, rub your back when your belly is becoming heavy to carry around, serve your breakfast, lunch, and dinner in bed, carries around emesis bags and breath mints for if you get morning sickness while you two are out.

This man is the king of enforcing your boundaries to people when they don’t listen. That really annoying family member that insists on being there for the birth even though you’ve already explained to them that you want this to be an experience for just you and Geto? Yeah, he’s made it very clear to them that they will not be at the birth if they want to be in your kid’s life.

He is absolutely not afraid to hurt feelings if it means his wife and future child are safe and cared for. He really don’t give a fuck who anyone else is. You and his child are first priority.

TOJI

Toji is definitely the type to express his love and devotion for you in other ways than the most conventional methods.

He is so incredibly gentle while you’re pregnant. He doesn’t rile you up as much or play fight with you anymore. He constantly reminds himself that you’re carrying another life inside you and that you have enough on your plate.

This man… whew does he love seeing you pregnant. Toji’s the type of man to feel so feral when he looks at you heavily pregnant with his kid.

He adores your body. He’ll rub lotion all over you and oils to help your skin accommodate to the stretch of carrying a kid. He massages your body and absolutely worships it while he’s rubbing the lotion and oil on you.

Your breasts are sore? He’ll gently massage them until they feel better. Your back hurts? He’d be the type to lift your bump up and take the weight off you for as long as you ask him to so you can feel relaxed for a few minutes.

And look this is probably TMI but like, if you got a clogged milk duct due to breastfeeding, Toji would unfortunately be the type of man to fix that issue with his mouth. i’m sorry but he would.

Final thing is, you better believe that he doesn’t allow anyone to get too close to you. He is so unbelievably protective over you while you’re pregnant. If he could, he’d lock you up at home to prevent anyone from getting close to you.

SUKUNA

On the outside, he acts very nonchalant and unbothered by your pregnancy. On the inside, he is constantly plagued by the thought that your body may not be able to carry his heir. The thought of losing you or his child haunts him.

He will secretly observe and take notes on your body and how it is changing. If he catches you expressing any sort of short windedness, he will immediately send you off to bed rest. Though, you’re usually able to convince him to take you off of it by the next day.

The only servant he trusts to tend to you is Uraume. No one else in his court is allowed to be anywhere near you unless he gives specific instructions. Still, he hates leaving you in the care of Uraume. He trusts them, but he wants to be the one to take care of you.

He loves holding your body close to him at night. All four arms are wrapped around you and holding you closely. Since he doesn’t need much sleep, he will stay awake rubbing on your tummy all night long. One time, he felt the baby moving in your stomach while you were asleep. He was so intrigued that he woke you up and told you to “make them do it again”.

Now, he will randomly approach you at any given time while you’re heavily pregnant and hold his hand out so he can feel his baby moving around inside of you. It soothes his worry.

During birth, Sukuna was a complete mess. The amount of blood lost during birth fucking terrified him. He was panicking and yelling at anyone to do something to save you, even while everyone was assuring him that you’re okay and this was natural.

After 9 long excruciating months of extreme worry and constant fear, he finally feels peace when he’s cradling a newborn in his arm and a sleeping wife in the other arm. All of his hard work to protect you paid off he thinks.

NANAMI

Oh, to be pregnant by the king of domestic love himself.

Nanami is the type of man to immediately start working on a nursery for you as soon as you reveal to him that you’re pregnant. He immediately changes the guest bedroom into a nursery that you design for your little baby.

He reads up on all the parenting books and articles. He’s constantly compiling things to either do or to not do during pregnancy and even while raising a kid.

Like Geto, he tends to your every need. He is a total house husband all while working 40 hours a week. When he’s at work, he is constantly calling and texting you to make sure that you’re okay and taking care of yourself, but let’s be fr he literally did everything for you before he even left for work (meal prepped for you, set out your clothes for you, put out all your self care items in case you want to bathe).

When you express concerns of your body getting bigger to him, he does everything in his power to show you that he loves and respects your body for creating life. He literally cherishes and worships your body for hours if you let him.

Like Toji, Nanami is protective over you. He constantly has an arm around you if you two are in public, and he watches everyone who dares to get close to you like a hawk. If he gets a bad vibe about anyone, he’s immediately stepping in front of you and taking over the conversation.

Nanami is the best partner to have during birth. His reading of articles during your pregnancy really paid off. He is supportive without being overbearing. He listens to your needs and tends to you without question. Constant praise and encouragement while you’re giving birth. The moment he gets to snuggle with you and the baby is the moment he realizes that he cultivated the life of his dreams. He has the family he always wanted.

[sophiamcdougall]

I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again

I mean, I am. But still.

So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.

So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.

At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.

Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell

So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.

I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.

This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.

Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.

I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.

Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.

We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.

"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."

"A what," he asks.

"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"

"Oh! A turtle!" he says.

"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.

The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.

"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.

"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.

"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.

"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??

The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?

I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.

"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."

"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.

"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!

So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.

(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)

[darknight3904]

It Burns For You

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɢʀᴏᴡ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴘɪᴛᴏʟ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴᴇꜱ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ɴᴏɴᴇ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ. ᴏᴏᴄ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ, ʜᴇ'ꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟʟʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜᴇᴇʟꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ. ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ!

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

Coriolanus is 12 when he sees you for the first time. Your red uniform is pressed perfectly and your school bag looks brand new. Your lunch consisted of a hearty-looking sandwich with roast beef and lettuce and a container of fresh fruit that had his mouth-watering.

"Do you want a piece? Our maid always packs too much and I can never finish it. You can have some if you want." Your voice fills his ears

A delicate-looking hand is holding a juicy-looking strawberry in front of him. He reaches for it and it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to shove it in his mouth. Instead, he takes a small bite and thanks you for sharing.

"Don't you have a lunch today?" You ask

He doesn't. The school had said they would start supplying the students with lunches soon but how soon? Coriolanus had already been attending for a number of years and still nothing.

"I already ate it." He lied

"You're still hungry though. You can have the rest." You say with a smile as you push your fruit bowl to him.

"Is it your first day?" He asks

"Yes, my mother thought that my governess wasn't doing a good job so she had my father enroll me here. I miss being at home with my new kitten though. She has long white hair and she is the cutest thing in the whole world." You said

Coriolanus can't believe that you had your own governess, let alone a pet to call your own. He later learns from Arachne that your father became incredibly rich by manufacturing weaponry for the Capitol. Despite your inherent wealth, you've never flashed it around him.

You and Coriolanus are 15 when you discover all the lies he tells at school about his family. He had left his uniform jacket behind on his chair and you got his home address from Sejanus, meaning to give it back so he'd have it for tomorrow. Instead, you had discovered the Snow's decrepit-looking building and barely functioning penthouse. Coriolanus' heart nearly stops when he emerges from his room to see you and his Grandma'am sitting together as she compliments your shoes.

"What are you doing here?" He asks, ready for your judgment and teasing words

"I wanted to return your jacket, Coryo. You'll need it for tomorrow."

The red of the jacket in your arms matches his face as he ushers you to the door, trying to hide the fact that Tigris was preparing cabbage in the kitchen that would undoubtedly stink the entire place up with the scent of the Snow's poverty.

"Stop rushing me, your cousin invited me to stay for dinner." You say trying to stop the way he is leading you to the door.

"You don't want what she is making. Tigris is a terrible cook." He said

Tigris lets out a shout of disagreement from the stove and Coriolanus ignores it.

"How about, I go out and get something to add to the meal Tigris is cooking, and by the time I get back you change your attitude about me staying for dinner Coryo. "

And with that, you walk out the door and slam it in his face. He's rather stunned at your declaration but knows you're serious. He rushes around their home, trying to clean up what he can while Tigris laughs at his frantic motions. Then, just as he was debating whether or not he wanted to change out of his uniform, you return from your short trip to the closest market.

"I wasn't sure what Tigris is cooking so I got a couple of things." You say placing the bags on the table.

Coriolanus is sure you spent a fortune on what is in these bags. Fresh bread accompanied by a sickly sweet fruit spread and a block of butter sits in one while the other holds something else in a brown box. You take your seat next to him at the ugly little table he has eaten too many meals at and cut a piece of the bread for Grandma'am. He is worried when Tigris starts portioning out the cabbage she cooked on the stove. Coriolanus watches your expression as you take a bite but nothing that he expected happens. You don't knit your brows in disgust or get up to leave and take your fresh bread and mysterious box with you. Instead, you go back for a second bite and compliment what Tigris has done with the food.

He sits stiffly next to you and can barely accept the slice of bread you offer him. You excuse yourself to use the bathroom and Tigris reaches across the table and pinches his shoulder.

"Stop sitting like that, Coryo!" She scolds

"Like what?" He asks,aware that Tigris meant how oddly straight his back was.

"You're making her uncomfortable. You've been friends with her for years she isn't worried about what our home looks like." Tigris says

"She might not be but what happens when she goes to school tomorrow and talks?" He asks

He shuts up when he hears the sound of the bathroom door opening again.

"That was lovely Tigris. I've never had anything like it, I'll have to invite you all to my own home for dinner sometime. Our cook makes these pastries that are simply wonderful. They even get sold at local markets, which leads to this..."

His eyes widen when you finally unveil what was hiding in that second bag. A dozen expensive looking deserts sit in the brown box you brought, each one decorated differently.

"I hope I picked something everyone would like. I know Coryo mentioned that Grandma'am liked chocolate so I picked this one just for her."

Coriolanus feels a wide smile stretch across his face as you pass out your little desserts. His worries about you gossiping to their peers fade from view as he bites into what he thinks is a croissant. You laugh at his reaction and toss a napkin at his face which is most likely covered in the gooey fruit filling that was in his pastry.

He walks you back to your home that night and thanks you for making his night. He can't remember the last time Grandma'am had smiled from eating chocolate. You accept his thanks and gently tell him that he shouldn't be ashamed about his financial situation. He never gets to disagree with you though because a soft kiss is pressed to his lips followed by a rushed,

"Goodnight, Coryo! Thanks for the cabbage!"

He walks back to his own home with a jump in his step. Thoughts of you consume him as he smiles to himself, proud his first kiss was shared with you. He feels his heart burn with something that felt like it was going to come up and out his mouth as he finally made it back to his room, you officially had him wrapped around your finger.

Your room is flooded with sunlight the first time Coriolanus sees it. A soft, silky-looking bed spread sits atop one of the biggest beds he has seen as you beckon to your cat, Maisy to come and say hello to him. He looks at the oversized wooden dresser that sits against one wall. He sees the photograph of him and you that was taken a few weeks ago at your 17th birthday party nestled among little knickknacks. Books Coriolanus has never even heard of line your shelves as he you place a record on the player that sits on your desk. Soft sounds of a piano and the words from an unnamed singer fill your gorgeous room as he turns to you.

"Do you want to dance?" He finds himself asking

You accept and he leads you or well tries to. You're rather stiff and it turns out dancing is harder than it looks because he isn't any good at it either. You laugh as he trips over his feet and end up falling with him, landing on the ground entangled in each other. Your fingers brush his curls from his eyes as his nose brushes yours.

"What're you doing?" You ask quietly

"Nothing." He responds, his eyes flicking to your lips.

The moment his lips touch yours, a tingle shoots down his spine. This is a real kiss, not what you gave him when you were both 15. He cups your face and your hands are tangled in his hair as he deepens it. He felt his head spin as you moved against him, almost as if you wanted him to swallow you whole right here on your bedroom floor. A giddy feeling swelled in his chest when he pulled away for air.

"Coryo...what was that?" You ask

"I thought you'd know by now. That was a kiss, darling." He laughed brushing his thumb across your lip

"I know that...but why'd you give me one?" You ask

"Don't you know?" He smiles and places a chaste kiss on your lips "My heart, it burns for you, it always has."

Part 2 is out now!

Series Masterlist

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny always knew tax evasion ran in his veins. His parents hadn’t been the most… morally sound of people, and less so as ecto-scientists.

He just didn’t think their lessons would ever result in a criminal empire that spanned the entire city and then some. Danny hadn’t seen it coming. His parents definitely wouldn’t have.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Wayne. Mr. Fox.”

Danny ‘the Phantom’ Fenton sat down across from a rather tense looking (to Danny’s enhanced senses, anyways) Brucie Wayne and his right hand, Lucius Fox. He smiled pleasantly, matching Brucie’s vacant smile with that touch of Midwest suburban mother smile.

With his acquisition of multiple Gotham companies, his rather newly established Fentom Co. became one of the largest holding companies in Gotham, the first being Wayne Enterprises and the second being Drake Industries. After months of constantly working his butt off while fending off assassins, reforming Gotham’s slums and cleaning up some of the streets, and taking care of his nest of street kids, Danny garnered enough power to even stand close to Wayne Enterprises in terms of financial powers.

The topic of this meeting was, of course, the proposed merger of Wayne Enterprises’ Medical R&D division with Fentom Co.’s pharmaceutical department. Usually, Wayne Enterprises wouldn’t even consider such an offer, as their Medical R&D division was the most well funded and least likely to be part of a Rogue’s scheme- and therefore most beloved- department of the same nature in Gotham. However, Danny had something the other offers didn’t.

Blackmail.

His overly polite smile widened as Bruce’s mask twitched. His eyes slid over to Lucius Fox.

“It’s an honor to meet you, sir. I’ve heard much about your genius in… research and development.”

By that, Danny meant that he knew Lucius Fox helped develop Batman’s tech.

He did a lot of stalking that week. It felt rather… invasive, even if he did get a bunch of juicy secrets.

You know what they say: dead men tell no tales… but halfas are generally blabbermouths.

“Is that so? It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Fenton.” The man quickly glanced between the youngsters, accurately predicting that this might have something to do with Bruce’s active nightlife.

“Yes, it is such a pleasure to meet you.”

Wow, Danny didn’t think he’d ever heard anyone sound both so perky and dead inside at the same time, except for Susan at Gotham High’s bake sale.

Bruce wishes he could be a Susan. He’s at best a Becky.

“Will you be staying, Mr. Fox? You’re the head of the R&D department, correct?”

“Ah, yes-”

“Oh, Lucius! I think you had an appointment with the finance department right now! I heard Sally talk about it, you know!”

Lucius Fox sent an unreadable look at Bruce before rallying.

“Oh, it must have slipped my mind. My apologies, Mr. Fenton, it seems as though I can not skip this appointment.”

“That’s alright. I suppose it gives you… plausible deniability… should things go wrong, haha!” Danny allowed his smile to widen a little further than natural. Bruce tensed but Lucius Fox simply politely smiled and left the room.

Ignorance is bliss and all that, Danny amusedly thought.

As the door shut with a click, Bruce dropped the vacant Brucie smile and sighed.

“What do you want,” he gritted out. Danny wasn’t about to let that slide, not after he spent the better part of this month wrangling Bruce’s problem children.

“Ah, it must be because I’m from the Midwest, Brucie, but where I come from, we value these things called manners.”

You uneducated jerk, he doesn’t say.

Danny leaned back in his chair, loosening his smile into something relaxed and sharp.

“…” Oh, boy, Danny could just hear the other man’s blood pressure rising. “What is the purpose of your visit, Mr. Fenton?”

“Relax, Brucie,” Danny sing-songed in a non-relaxing way. “I’m just here to discuss a possible merger that I’m sure you’ll agree to, and give you a couple of updates on your… wayward bird.”

He heard Bruce take a slow, controlled breath. “Very well. Where. Would. You. Like. To. Start.”

Danny ignored the gritted out sentence. He passed a contract to Bruce, who took it like he was handling a live bomb.

“Here’s the proposal, Mr. Wayne. Please, look it over.”

He watched as Bruce looked over the contract with an eagle eye before lowering it, scrutinizing Danny.

“This is… very fair.”

Danny raised an eyebrow. Of course it was fair. Danny wasn’t interested in exploiting the Waynes, despite them being very able to afford it.

He’d brought fifty manufacturing sites for pharmaceuticals, and offered up a building where both companies could send their workers. He provided top notch security- that definitely didn’t have any talons on staff, what were they talking about?- that came from his own security division. Granted, most of them were reformed and trained goons, but hey, creating jobs can only help Gotham’s economy and help break the cycle of poverty, right? Guaranteed by the Wayne name and, most importantly, uncompromised medicine that was accessible to everyone would be a damn good start. He’d also have Penguin’s empire to distribute it to those who couldn’t make it to a clinic or a store, and there were plans in there to work with and establish contracts with Gotham’s welfare department. Well… once Danny finished replacing them with people who wouldn’t try to take a cut of the funds and actually cared about the people. He was thinking… the multitudes of poor grad students and parents that need income. He’s in the process of building childcare centers and…

It’s a good thing he managed to save money from the taxes (thank you, Gotham’s morally ambiguous tax experts that were in desperate need for clients! He could do it himself but having a team of accountants at the ready was seriously so helpful.) because ancients knows the government weren’t about to step into Gotham and help the people here. He needs so much money to pull all of this shit off and a lot of it has to be clean.

Danny inwardly sighed and marked another thing onto his to do list.

Make money laundering fronts.



“Of course, Mr. Wayne. You didn’t think I’d come in here demanding money, did you?”

“I considered it.”

“I am, in fact, trying to help Gotham. You might not agree with my methods, but I’d rather not damage Wayne Enterprises when it’s doing so much to help the people.”

Ugh, he was doing too much work. Danny just wanted to- hah- chill at home and read bed time stories to his kids.

Bruce Wayne, the specific blend between Brucie and Batman, regarded him silently. Danny felt like he went up a few notches in the respect ladder.

Nice.

“You’re a criminal.”

“Says the man in the bat-suit breaking into places and assaulting people.”

Bruce’s hands spasmed around the contract. Danny smiled at him, taking a sip of the coffee they’d prepared. Oo, nice!

“Ah, I heard you’re adopting- pardon, fostering- Tim Drake. Getting empty nest syndrome, Brucie?” He slipped back into using Bruce’s first name. The proposal was formal. This… was very much not.

“What about it?”

“That’s very kind of you. Speaking of which, well, of your birds, I was wondering if you remembered what I asked you to do.” Danny continued, not giving Bruce a chance to reply. “Didn’t I ask for you to keep your birds in line, Brucie?”

The CEO straightened even further, form filling out to be Batman’s imposing figure. “I did.”

“No, you didn’t. Do you know where your charge is, right now? No, not the formerly dead one,” Danny tilted his head, smile shrinking.

“Don’t you dare do anything to Tim. I swear, if you even lay a hand on a strand of his hair, I’ll-”

“Sit your Armani clad ass down, Bruce.” Danny snapped. “Your son’s in your office. I don’t harm children, and your assumptions are deeply insulting. Threaten me again, Bruce, and I’ll make sure you know exactly how much I know about your birds, your cousin, and the commissioner’s daughter.”

Bruce snarled but leashed his anger just enough to sit back down. He itched to go check on Tim, but leaving a threat like Phantom unwatched felt inherently wrong.

“Your other son,” Danny continued. “Is doing quite well. He’s learning that he has hobbies again. He’s actually working under me, you know.”

“He’s what.”

Oh, yeah, that tracks. It figured that Jason wouldn’t tell Bruce about anything. He’s still conflicted about his death. Danny got it.

“Ah, that’s precious information. You’ll have to offer something of equal value if you want to know. There is, on the other hand, a piece of information I’ll give you for free.”

Danny paused for the dramatic effect. It was lost on Bruce, the ultimate drama queen of this world.

“The League of Assassins are hanging around Hotham lately. It’s getting tedious, getting rid of them. I suggest talking to your old flame, you know, with words and what little communication skill you’ve got rattling around in your noggin to get them to pull back. Her interest is… unnaturally focused on Jason.”

Danny read the dark agreement swimming about Bruce’s face and inclined his head. “Should negotiations fail, rest assured that Jason will be protected.”

“…Thank you.”

“You are most welcome. Go ahead and discuss the contract with Mr. Fox, I am sure you’ll find little problems with it. Ah,” Danny stood up, fixing his suit jacket. “And you should probably check up on Timothy. He’s probably having a great time in your office, Mr. Wayne.”

“I’ll see you out.”

“Of course.”

Having Batman escorting him out should probably be more intimidating.

Danny stood in the elevator, waiting for Bruce’s contemplative silence to put itself into words.

Sure enough, “What… what kind of hobbies does Jason have now?”

“I’d tell you to ask him, but you two aren’t on speaking terms, are you? He likes books, of course, but recently, he’s found an interest in glass blowing. He made quite a bit of progress on his attempts at sun catchers.”

“I see.”

Well, Danny’s not about to step on that landmine any more than he has to.

——

“Danny.”

“Oh, hey, Jason. Sit down, we were about to have dinner.”

Jason clambered into the window. Danny sighed. He had a door, but by the way Jason never used it, it was like the door didn’t exist.

“Mind telling me why the old bastard showed up on my rooftops with a bunch of glass and glassblowing tools?”

Danny smiled. “No idea.”

“Uh huh.”

Danny placed a hand on his chest and put on his best woe-is-me expression. The teen’s face twitched in annoyance. “Doubt? At me? Why, I never!”

A bread roll thwacked him in the face.

[ladadiida]

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

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

or,

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

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

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

𝐰𝐜 11.3k

"There you are."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You accepted it years ago.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ah.

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

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

You stumbled on your words. "Sir?"

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

Clearing your throat, you forced a smile.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tomorrow was the perfect day to leave.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happy Birthday

— S.

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

⸻ • ⸻

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Maybe I can—"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Zeff took a deep, tired breath.

"Oh, they're ringing alright."

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

⸻ • ⸻

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

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

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

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

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

Or so you thought.

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

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

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

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

Unfortunately, Sanji was one of those men.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Now I do."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the answer was simple.

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

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

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

"Why not me?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⸻ • ⸻

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

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

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

He doesn't.

⸻ • ⸻

"Are you really going to leave?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sanji almost dropped the plate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sanji!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⸻ • ⸻

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The realization began to sink in.

Oh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No..."

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

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

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

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

"Even with me by your side?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⸻ • ⸻

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

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

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

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

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

"I will."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⸻ • ⸻

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You missed Sanji and everything that he was.

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

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

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

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

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

Sanji.

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

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

"There you are, ange."

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