#his voice is deep and smooth like a well full of honey | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ladadiida · 2 years ago

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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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dmitriene · 7 months ago

Text

continuation to this work

cw: possible authority, threesome, gangbang, comfort part with tears.

you're doing your best for simon riley, your lieutenant, one and only man you offer your body and soul to so rawly, hold out in your shaking palms for him to do anything he pleases, and you wouldn't refuse, as obedient, sweet like a pup he raised all for himself, accepting everything he gives you, any word, command, caress or a harsh, possessive tug.

shaped for him, you learn to arch your back sharp and wait, in his quarters, on his dark sheets, naked and presenting, doesn't matter if simon comes in tired, angry or almost boneless, he indulges in your sweet body anytime he can, calloused fingers skimming down the fragile curvature of your spine, pressing, circling at the tender skin, knowing that you're already dripping down your quivering thighs.

simon invited john to your sacred relationship, letting him indulge in your tight, pliable hole, always messy, stretched out around your lieutenant's thick, engorged cock and dripping out frothy globs of cum, soaking in the rumbled sheets below your twitching body, price doesn't waits anymore before sinking in, filling you pleasantly, cock heavy and fat, nudging against your spongy spot and making you claw forward.

nuzzling against simon's muscular thigh, his cock leaking precum against the small pudge on his stomach, you whine out, voice already slurred, stuttering little calls to them both, as john's drawn out, deep ruts of hips jolt your body forward, folding your knees against your tummy by the force of his body, slotting over your back, making you slump and cry weakly in filling pleasure.

and if you accepted price, sure there shouldn't be any problem if simon will invite two more, johnny and kyle, you hear their names buzzing in your ears, clogged, unable to comprehend anything more than the heavy weight of john's flaccid cock on your drooling, wriggling tongue, he's spent already, pumped you full enough so his seed would dribble out, now contented to just smooth his rough palms over your warm, hollowed cheeks.

body fervent, you're already too overstimulated to proceed, your cunt twitching and leaking loads of cum, but when simon pats down the swell of your ass, thumb spreading at the fat, revealing your swelling hole, purring how obedient and pretty you are, you can't say no when he asks if boys can have a taste, eyes wide and excited, cerulean blues meeting the honeyed irises, so easy to make their cocks hard in their cargos, as they marvel at the sight of you.

no matter what, it's still simon in who's hands you end up, snuggled tight against his solid, heaving chest, little hairs that dust his skin are a soothing caress against your wet cheeks, heat dissipating from your skin slowly, you cried, when it's all got too much, their cocks, their hands, playful kisses bordering on aggressive and back, rugged, tanned skin turning into ebony, softened, and then repeating, johnny and kyle both different sides of each other, but able to act together as if synchronized.

simon didn't made you wait when you started crying, worried, eyes crinkled, furrowing alongside his brows at such emotional display, he wasn't interested if they got enough of you, batting an urgent, heavy hand and making them all take a step back, john already dressed and confused, arms crossed tight over his chest, murmuring something to the boys, nothing you can remember, before ending up tucked under clean, cottony sheets.

when you start to recognize your surroundings back again, twisting to the side a bit, the arm around you tightens, muscular, wretched with tattoos, simon, you think contentedly, and seems by the grumble he let out, vibrating away from his chest, you croaked his name out, as he brushed a soothing thumb over your tummy, cupping at the supple skin, making you mold back against his body, mind dissolving back into the deep slumber.

you can be your lieutenant's pup, but he's responsible for your well being and comfort, and should you show any signs of being uncomfortable, hurt, or worse, simon is overtaken with a primal need, to protect, to heal, and to soothe, hide you in his embrace from the overwhelming world around.

main masterlist. quidelines.

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eiightysixbaby · 9 days ago

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i’ve been a feral animal lately so here’s this. huge cock eddie truther!! 18+ babes

“please…” you murmur, mouse-quiet on the mattress of this near-stranger’s bed.

“oh, come on, honey,” his silky smooth voice envelops your head, invading your brain space. “you can do better than that, i’m sure.”

to punctuate his words, he slowly rubs the leaking head of his cock through your folds, for what feels like the millionth time now. you’re unreasonably wet, maybe about five minutes from soaking through his bedsheets, and there’s perspiration blotting your forehead.

to say you weren’t expecting to be in this position tonight is an understatement. at first it was just a friendly stranger at a bar, noticing you by yourself and offering to buy you a drink.

and then one drink became two became three, and friendly small talk became stories of how you got that scar on your knee and how he broke three bones in the fifth grade.

and now, suddenly, you’re here. on his bed in his dimly lit room, fully naked and a little foggy from cumming on his tongue maybe ten minutes ago. the lighting from his single bedside lamp casts a faded orange glow across the room, and his sheets smell faintly of his cologne. distantly, you catch the whiff of a long put-out cigarette.

his thick, heavy cock nudges your clit, forcing a harsh whine from your throat.

“please, eddie,” you beg again, your body wriggling slightly in frustration.

“please what?” he asks, shit-eating grin spreading across his face. big brown eyes putting you in a trance and keeping you there.

you huff, but your annoyance is half-hearted. you don’t have the energy to put your all into it, all you can truly focus on is how badly you want him.

“eddie, come on. i need you,” you whine, gasping sharply at another slick glide of his tip through your folds.

“you need me? what do you need from me?” he asks, lips so tantalizingly close to your ear, his teeth taking the softest nibble. it sends a shiver straight down your spine and to your center, your toes curling where they rest towards the end of the mattress.

“i need,” you swallow, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. “i need your huge cock inside of me, please.” your voice comes out sounding strangled, your breaths shallow as his lips press to your neck over and over. “i need you to give it all to me, right the fuck now.”

“fuck, baby,” he grumbles against your skin. his fingers dig in to your hips, your breath hitching. “is that right? need my big dick filling you up?”

“yes,” you pant, feeling him twitch slightly against you. “fuck me, eddie, please.”

“well, since you asked so nicely,” he says, nose brushing your cheek, hot flush of breath fanning your face.

your mouth drops open at the slow intrusion of him, finally, into your soaking core. pressing so deep inside of you, hitting every spot you needed him to hit. filling you to completion, a moan leaving your lips as if it was desperate to come out.

“there, sweet thing. nice and full of me,” he rasps, one ringed hand coming up to squeeze your neck. “now what do you say?”

“t-thank you,” you pant, your body squirming with the need for him to move.

“good fucking girl,” his voice an octave deeper now, you swear. gravelly with need. “you just lay there and look pretty for me, honey. i’m gonna ruin you.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction

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enticingmelanin · 2 months ago

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Savor: A Modern Smoke x Annie Fanfic

Savor || Elijah "Smoke" Moore x Annie (modern au)

This is Part 1 of the Savor Series.

Rating: E for Erotic.

Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING!!! Implied miscarriage, NSFW, Smut, and Explicit Language. 18+ Only.

Word Count: 4k+

Summary: Annie is a master in the kitchen, curating every dish on her restaurant’s menu to leave diners lingering over every bite, craving more. But when a chance reunion with an old flame ignites dormant feelings, the heat shifts from the stove to something far more intimate. By the end of the night, it’s Annie who’s being savored...

· · ──── ·𖥸· ──── · ·· · ──── ·𖥸· ──── · ·· · ───── ·𖥸· ──── · ·

Chicago was alive and well on Saturday morning. The city buzzed with its usual rhythm—horns in the distance, heels clacking against pavement, the hiss of early buses. Sunlight spilled between high-rises like honey, catching the glint of Lake Michigan in the distance. The air was crisp, laced with the promise of spring, and downtown pulsed with movement.

And nestled in the heart of it all, in a quaint, Black-owned café, Annie was thriving.

The scent of rich espresso, caramel, cinnamon, and freshly baked pastries curled through the space like a warm embrace. Muffled conversations mingled in the air—first dates, business meetings, friends catching up—all blending into a sweet melody. Annie soaked it in. Her senses were alive in the best way, tuned to the sounds and smells she knew so well. This was her happy place and a reflection of her own success.

As a girl from a small town in Mississippi, this life once felt like a dream too far away. But here she was, head chef and owner of one of Chicago’s must-visit restaurants—Zariah's—beloved by locals and tourists alike. She wasn’t just living her dream—she was serving it.

With her caramel macchiato in hand—two pumps of brown sugar, just the way she liked it—she made her way toward the door, coat swinging behind her in haste. But the moment she pushed it open, she collided with something—or rather, someone—solid.

Her drink nearly spilled, but before gravity could do its worst, strong hands caught her by the waist and arm, steadying her with practiced ease.

"Lawd, I’m so sorry," she blurted, her Southern twang slipping out naturally.

"Nah, I oughta be apologizin’," came a deep, smooth baritone.

They both laughed—soft and surprised—and then her eyes lifted.

Deep, dark chocolate met something achingly familiar. Eyes she hadn’t seen in years, but had never quite forgotten. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Annie?” That voice—tinged with that familiar Mississippi drawl—pulled her further into the moment.

Her brows furrowed as recognition struck. “S-Smoke?” she said, disbelief and wonder laced in her voice.

“Sho is.” He stepped back slowly, taking her in with a smile that warmed the air between them. “Small world. Look at you.”

And look he did. His eyes roamed over her like a slow caress. Her full, 4C afro framed her face like a crown—coily, moisturized, and unapologetically bold. Her luminous skin, deep and glowing with melanin-rich warmth, glistened against the soft morning light. High cheekbones, full lips, and eyes that still carried secrets met him with equal intensity. Her open tan trench coat revealed a seafoam green maxi dress hugging her curves just right, its neckline generous to her bosom, its hem floating around matching heels that kissed the pavement.

She gave a soft, incredulous smile. “Me? Look at you. You ain’t aged a day.”

Elijah—Smoke—grinned. The years had been good to him. The boy she remembered had become a man forged in discipline and distance. His deep bronze skin was smooth and radiant, his jaw square and lined with a neatly groomed beard. His lips were full, his smile disarming, and his eyes—still sharp, still watchful—were just as she remembered. A light gray sweater hugged his muscular frame, and black slacks fit him like they’d been tailored with reverence.

Whatever life had done to him, it had carved him into something quietly powerful.

He chuckled low, the sound soaked in that Southern warmth. “Guess we both clean up real nice. How you been, girl?”

Annie grinned, her voice sliding in like sweet honey. “I’m good. Busy, but good. How ‘bout you?”

He tilted his head slightly, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I can see that. Doin’ good. Still tryin’ to slow life down a little, but y’know how that goes.”

She nodded knowingly. “Oh, I do. Life don’t wait for nobody.”

“I don’t wanna keep you,” he added, though the regret in his tone said otherwise. “But we should catch up soon.”

Annie’s lips quirked with a spark of mischief. An idea bloomed like a flower in her mind. “Well, I gotta get to my restaurant to start preppin’. We’re booked up tonight, but if you come by after closin’, I can have some dishes set aside for you… if you’re free, of course.”

Smoke blinked, a little taken aback but clearly proud of the woman in front of him. “I’d be a fool to say no to your cookin’,” he said with a slow smirk.

They exchanged numbers quickly, fingers brushing as they handed off phones. It felt easy. Natural. Like no time had passed at all.

Their hug was short, but the kind that lingered after release. Familiar. Comfortable. Full of things unspoken.

“See you tonight, Smoke,” she murmured against his shoulder.

“Lookin’ forward to it.”

And as they turned to head in opposite directions, both couldn’t help but glance back.

A spark had been rekindled.

The night promised more than just food—it promised memories, and maybe even something new.

As the last satisfied stomachs exited the building, Annie was in the back of the kitchen preparing for Smoke’s arrival.

The clock struck ten and a jolt of nerves hit her square in the chest. Would he be impressed? Would he still like her cooking? These questions had never once crossed her mind before—until now. She never expected to be reconnected with her first love… and the father of their unborn child.

She paused, letting out a slow breath, shaking the thought away as she placed the last dash of cinnamon on a warm, golden slice of peach cobbler.

"Hey, Annie," came Jonathan’s voice through a crack in the heavy kitchen doors. "There’s a gentleman here for you. Elijah, I think."

A smile bloomed on her face instantly. "Thanks, Jon. Can you seat him at the booth closest to the kitchen? I’ll take care of him. Y’all have a great night—see ya Monday."

"You too, boss," he called back, as the kitchen doors swung shut behind him.

Annie turned to the oven, sliding dishes inside to keep warm before kicking off her worn kitchen flats and slipping into the seafoam heels from earlier. She pulled off her chef’s coat, revealing the same curve-hugging maxi dress beneath. Using her phone’s camera as a mirror, she checked her reflection—makeup intact, not a single coil of hair out of place, her deep, glowing skin kissed by the overhead lights. After a fresh swipe of pink-tinted gloss and a deep breath, she stepped out.

As she pushed through the swinging door, her eyes immediately met Elijah’s. He was already standing, his attention drawn to her like gravity. His smile was instant, bright and warm.

"Well don’t you look plucked straight outta GQ?" she teased as she walked toward him.

His presence was unshakable, the kind that didn’t need to raise its voice to demand a room's attention. He had changed into a tailored charcoal pinstripe suit that clung to his broad shoulders and tapered waist, he looked dapper. The subtle glint of a diamond stud in his ear caught the light just enough to remind you—he knew exactly who he was.

"Aye, had to match your beauty," he replied, drawing her into a soft embrace and planting a kiss on her cheek.

Butterflies hovered in her stomach at the simple gesture. "Thank you," she whispered.

They pulled apart slowly, the air charged, as he glanced around the restaurant with admiration. "This place looks incredible. You really doin’ it big, huh?"

Low jazz and smooth R&B swirled through the air from hidden speakers, a soft soundtrack to the calm night. The warm glow of ambient lighting danced across sweeping wooden waves that spread along the ceiling like a living sculpture. Plush velvet chairs in deep rust and charcoal hues hugged round tables dressed in white linen. Glass walls offered a peek into the open kitchen she loved so much. A soft, earthy aroma lingered in the air with a hint of rich vanilla. Dried pampas grass stood tall in artful arrangements, giving the space a luxurious charm.

She followed his gaze, pride welling in her chest. "I guess I am. Sometimes, I get so caught up in the hustle, I forget to take it all in. But I love what I do."

"Well, you’re gonna have to soak up some compliments tonight. ‘Cause I ain’t holdin’ back, especially once I taste this food."

She laughed gently, heart warming with his presence. "Speakin’ of, what can I get you to drink? I ain’t no bartender, but I can whip somethin’ up."

Smoke tilted his head in thought. "Surprise me."

With a nod, she turned and headed to the bar while he settled into the booth. The clinking of glass and the soft shuffle of bottles filled the air as she crafted their drinks. Moments later, she returned with two glasses.

"Now, I take you for a whiskey man, so... whiskey sour for you. And a cosmopolitan for me," she said, placing the drinks on the table with a wink.

He took a sip, nodding in approval. "Thank you, beautiful," he murmured, the praise warm on his tongue.

Annie smiled and excused herself again, disappearing into the kitchen. She emerged moments later, expertly balancing a tray with a steaming bowl of gumbo over rice, a side of collard greens, and a thick slice of honey-glazed cornbread. The aroma alone was enough to make mouths water.

She placed the meal in front of him with a flourish.

A low whistle escaped his lips. "I know this ain’t what I think it is."

Annie laughed and slid into the booth beside him. "Sure is. Mama’s gumbo recipe. Just added my own lil twist. Go on—tell me what ya think."

He looked at her for a beat, then took a spoonful, blowing gently before taking the bite. His eyes shut as the flavor hit his tongue. The broth was rich and complex, shrimp and chicken tender, sausage savory, the holy trinity of vegetables cooked to perfection.

"Annie..." he breathed, his voice dipped in nostalgia and pleasure. He took another bite, then chuckled with a shake of his head. "You just took me back in time. Your mama, God rest her soul, might’ve just been beat. You put your foot in that, girl."

She threw her head back in laughter, heart full. "Happy to hear it. I aim to please."

His satisfied hums and low moans of approval filled the space between them as he moved between spoonfuls and bites of cornbread and greens. Annie watched with pride and something else stirring deep in her chest.

They talked as he ate, falling into a rhythm so natural it felt like no time had passed at all. The air between them was warm and relaxed as the hum of R&B and jazz classics filled the atmosphere.

Annie sipped her cosmopolitan as she shared her journey. "After Mama passed four years ago, I moved in with Aunt Renee for a bit. Took some time to get my head right. Then one day, I just… went for it. Applied for a business loan, pitched my concept to anyone who’d listen, and somehow convinced a bank to believe in me. Been full nearly every night since opening."

Smoke’s brows rose with admiration. "That's real. I knew you always had that fire in you."

She smiled, a bit bashful under the glow of his praise. "I guess I got it honest. Mama didn’t raise no fool."

He chuckled and lifted his glass. "Cheers to her."

They clinked glasses, taking a quiet sip in her honor before he leaned back in the booth, his deep voice laced with pride. "I been up to some things, too. Did my time in the Army, got my bachelor’s in accounting after that. Then a master’s in business. I’m doin’ good—real good. But I came up to Chicago ‘cause I wanted more. Bigger. Better."

She tilted her head, curious. "So what’s next for Mr. Bigger and Better?"

He grinned. "Me, Stack, and Sammie are openin’ a jazz and cigar lounge out here."

Her face lit up. "Oh my God, that's great! Sammie still play?"

"Hell yeah," he said with a nod. "That boy’s gonna tear the house down. He’s been killin’ it at some local joints, but we want him to have his own permanent spot. It's a family thing. We’re namin’ it Pearline’s, after his girl."

Annie gasped, eyes wide. "What!? Him and Pearline got together?"

"Stuck like glue," Smoke said with a grin. "They’ll probably be next down the aisle. Stack and Mary just eloped last week—still off on their honeymoon, but they’ll be back soon."

She placed a hand to her chest, heart swelling. "Wow. I’m so happy for them. Look at Stack... all grown up and settlin’ down."

Smoke’s eyes lingered on her, his gaze deep and sincere. "Yeah... well, love’ll do that to you. Don’t matter how old or new it is. I should know."

A stillness crept between them, quiet but potent. Annie’s heart skipped at the weight of his words, at the truth hiding beneath them.

"Smoke—" she began softly, but he cut her off gently.

"I owe you an apology, Annie."

She shook her head slowly, her throat tight. "You don't have to—"

"But I do, darlin’." His voice was low and raw as he reached across the table and took her hands in his, thumbs brushing small, soothing circles against her skin. "I didn’t handle shit right. Losin’ our baby... it tore me up more than I ever let on. And instead of dealin’ with it with you, like I should’ve... I ran. I left you holdin’ all that pain on your own. You deserved better than that. Way better. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry."

Tears shimmered in his eyes, and Annie’s own spilled freely down her cheeks. She shook her head, her voice thick with emotion. "I know. I forgave you a long time ago. We were just... young. Dumb. In love. But we weren't ready."

She reached for a napkin, dabbing her cheeks. "As much as I wanted our baby, I know she’s in a better place and it wasn’t in vain. Look at what we’ve accomplished. Look at who we became."

Smoke wiped away a tear that escaped down his cheek, then reached out to gently brush her tears away, careful not to disturb her makeup.

"Zariah," he said softly. "You were so sure it was a girl."

She smiled through her tears. "I know it. And Mama shows her to me sometimes in my dreams. She’s got those deep Moore dimples... like her Daddy"

His soft laugh cracked into sobs, and Annie immediately leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him. His broad frame shook as he buried his face in her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist. She held him, hand rubbing the back of his head gently, her other arm anchored around his back. They wept together, years of grief and guilt finally released.

Annie had grieved their daughter long ago, honoring her memory by naming the restaurant after her. But seeing the pain Smoke still carried—still buried—fractured something in her chest. She hadn’t known how heavy it had been for him too.

After a long moment, they pulled apart and wiped each other’s tears. Annie took a deep breath, offering him a small smile. "We need a pick-me-up. I’ll be right back."

She disappeared into the kitchen. The cool blast of air from the fridge kissed her face as she retrieved the dessert she had set aside—a chilled banana puddin’ cheesecake. She grabbed her Mama’s peach cobbler, still warm from the oven and scooped a generous helping of ice cream and placed it beside the cobbler on a sleek black plate.

Moments later, she returned to the booth, setting the desserts down with the kind of pride only a Southern Black woman could wield when presenting sweets made with love.

Smoke’s eyes widened with delight. "And what do we have here?"

Annie sank into the booth beside him again, the soft lighting catching the gleam in her eyes. "Well, this is Mama’s peach cobbler and French vanilla ice cream, we make it in-house. And this beauty," she said, pointing to the other plate with a spoon, "is my banana puddin’ cheesecake. A customer favorite."

She handed him the spoon and raised a brow. "Here. Taste them. Really savor the flavors and tell me what you think."

He grinned and took a bite of the cobbler first. The moment it hit his tongue, he closed his eyes and let out a low, satisfied groan. "Lord have mercy..."

Annie laughed and squeezed her thighs together at the sound. "That good, huh?"

"Annie... you got magic in this crust."

She beamed. "Wait till you try the cheesecake."

He didn’t waste time. One bite and he leaned back with a stunned expression, spoon still in hand. "Now see, that’s witchcraft. I don’t know what you did to bananas and puddin', but they not supposed to taste that damn good."

Annie cackled, covering her mouth. "Boy, shut up!"

They laughed together, the sound full and rich. The weight between them had eased.

"Here," he said as he raised a spoonful of cheesecake to her lips. "Enjoy the fruits of your labor."

She smiled, lips parting slowly. She let him feed her, the creamy, sweet flavors melting across her tongue as the crunch of chessman cookies and bits of banana filled her mouth. She hummed in satisfaction. "I don't toot my own horn often, but toot toot!"

He chuckled and they shared another laugh, the sound buzzing warmly between them. Then his gaze dropped to her lips, lingering.

"You got a lil’..." he murmured, gesturing gently toward her mouth.

She swiped at the corner of her lips. "Gone?"

"Not quite," he murmured again, voice a gravelly whisper. He leaned in slowly, eyes locked with hers. Her breath caught as his lips pressed softly to her cheek, then kissed the corner of her mouth.

He hovered, his lips almost touching hers. "There... good as new," he whispered.

His lustful gaze, teasing tone, and the feel of his lips sent an ache between her thighs. A boldness sparked within her. Her hand moved slowly down the firm plane of his chest to the bulge hidden beneath his pants. She groped him through the fabric, feeling him hard and ready.

His breath hitched, and he bit his bottom lip, eyes dark with want.

"Your body remembers me," she whispered, and in a flash his lips crashed into hers.

Their kiss was urgent, their tongues dancing in a sensual waltz. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer, while she clutched at his back and neck, bodies pressed flush.

"Say it, Elijah," she breathed between kisses.

He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, unwavering. "I love you. And I missed you."

That familiar smirk tugged at his lips, but she met it with her own radiant smile. "I love you too," she said, voice full of truth.

Their lips met again, this time deeper, heavier, laced with the ache of years gone by. His mouth moved to her neck, trailing kisses that made her gasp. His hands found the hem of her dress, and she lifted her hips slightly to help him pull it up.

Graceful fingers slid her red lace thong to the side, meeting her wet, aching folds. A soft whimper escaped her lips, and Smoke smirked.

"And this pussy..." he murmured, sweeping up her slick slit to her clit, circling it with teasing precision, "remembers me. Don’t she, baby?"

Annie moaned, swallowing the spit that had gathered in her mouth. "Y-Yes," she stuttered, truth spilling from her lips. No one had ever made her feel the way Elijah "Smoke" Moore did. His touch was etched into her bones.

The pad of his fingers moved expertly over her clit, then slid down to her dripping hole. He pushed inside, fingering her with deliberate rhythm. Her back arched, chest jutting toward him, and Smoke couldn't resist. He tugged at the straps of her dress, and she hastily pulled the top down, shrugging off her bra.

A groan rumbled from his chest as her breasts came into view, his brow lifting with a mischievous glint.

His free hand reached for the cobbler, dipping his index into the melting vanilla ice cream and thick peach syrup. He swirled the mixture over her chocolate nipples, then sucked each one clean, lips hot and hungry.

Annie ground against his fingers, clutching his head to her chest. His soft lips and wicked tongue teased her peaks, each flick and suck sending electric jolts through her.

"Ooh, don’t stop," she moaned, voice shaky with need.

"Not plannin’ on it, baby," he murmured, moving to her other nipple, savoring the creamy sweetness as his tongue flicked the hardened bud.

Her pussy clenched around his fingers as his thumb rolled over her clit, fingers thrusting faster, deeper. A powerful climax was brewing in the pit of her stomach, her moans rising, filling the room with heat and want.

“Mhm, I feel it. Cum for me.” His voice was low—commanding, and just like that, her orgasm crashed through her. Her body shuddering, back arching, whimpers and cries spilling from her lips like a song only he could summon. The look on her face, full of ecstasy and release, was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen—even more breathtaking than when they were twenty and twenty-one.

Annie reached for him as he guided her down from the high, kissing him hungrily. When she stilled, he slipped his fingers from inside her, breaking the kiss just long enough to smear her essence on her lips. His mouth was on hers again in an instant, sucking the taste of her from both their lips. Their moans blended, savoring her flavor, their hunger reigniting.

Slowly, they broke apart. Smoke’s strong hands slid under her, scooting her to the edge of the booth. He rose, gaze never leaving hers, and laid her back. Her thong was slipped off completely, and he parted her thick thighs. Her puffy pussy glistened under the light, making him forget all about the desserts she'd made for him.

“Just as pretty n’ phat as I remember her,” he said, voice thick with desire. He watched her juices trail from her entrance, gliding down the curve of her ass.

Everything about him ignited her. Her body responded on instinct. She watched as he undressed slowly, leaving only his crisp shirt unbuttoned. Mocha skin stretched over taut abs and toned muscle, thighs powerful and promising. Between them, his long, girthy dick bobbed—tip slick with precum—reminding her exactly what kind of memory her body had been holding onto.

Her legs instinctively squeezed shut, trying to ease the aching throb.

But Smoke wasn’t having it.

“Mm-mm. Open those legs up, darlin’. I got business to handle,” he commanded, and she instantly parted them with a soft whine.

He eased to his knees, locking eyes with her as his lips hovered near her waxed cunt. “Just gotta get a quick taste from the source,” he murmured, his breath ghosting over her wet lips—then his tongue parted them, licking slowly up her slit.

“Uunh,” she moaned, chest rising and falling rapidly.

He groaned deep in his chest as he dove in, devouring her. His plush lips French kissed her folds with maddening slowness before latching onto her clit, sucking gently but firmly.

“S-Smoke, please... mmm, please fuck me,” she begged, her voice trembling with need.

His laugh was low and wicked.

After a few more torturous licks, he pulled away, leaving a thick trail of spit that mingled with her essence.

He paused to admire the view, stroking his thick length before placing it at her entrance and slowly easing inside. Their moans met midair as he leaned over her, kissing her deeply while his hips rolled in a slow pace. Her hands gripped his back, toes curling with each stroke.

“Fuuuck, you feel so good,” he groaned against her lips. Once she adjusted to his size, his thrusts grew faster. His mouth moved to her neck, ravishing it with hot kisses as he sank deep inside her.

“Ooh, Smoke...” Her mind was a blur of pleasure.

He sat back slightly, lifting her right leg and pushing it toward her chest, letting him reach new depths. Her mouth dropped open in a silent scream, eyes fluttering shut as he found her spot again and again.

“This my pussy, Annie? Hm?” he grunted.

Somewhere in the haze, his words reached her. “Yes, Daddy. Fuck, yes. Uuunh.”

He savored her moans, the way her body welcomed him—soft, warm, and perfect. He felt built for her, and she for him. They were high on each other.

“Look at me,” he demanded. “I want to see you when I make you cum.” His groans spilled out between thrusts. She struggled to keep her eyes open, but once their gazes locked, she couldn't look away.

Smoke glanced down briefly, watching their bodies meet. His shaft was coated with her arousal, the thick vein along the top pulsing with need. He enjoyed the bounce of her soft belly as he pounded into her, her toes stretching in her heels as pleasure overtook her.

Their eyes locked again, intensity thick between them, and when he hit her spot just right, his hand gripped her neck as her pussy clenched tightly around him.

“Let it go, baby. Mmm, cum for me,” he moaned.

And her body obeyed. She cried out his name as her orgasm took her under, one hand clutching the table, the other gripping his wrist. The feel of her coming undone around him triggered his release, and he spilled deep inside her, his head falling back as his groans joined hers.

His strokes slowed, riding the wave with her. Then he leaned down, kissing her softly. The kiss spoke for them both—how much they loved each other, how they were never letting go, how the future was theirs. She was his, and he was hers. No doubt about it.

And as they made love into the early hours of Sunday morning in Elijah’s bed, they didn’t just savor Annie’s cooking and each other—they healed.

To be continued...

Read the follow-up story here: Fire We Make

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Safe to say these two live in my head rent free. I hope you enjoyed my modern take on our favorite sinners. Leave a comment and tell me what you think. I'd love to hear from you. See ya in my next one! xoxo

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Taglist:

@slvt4her @wanderingreigns @avoidthings @xjjawsomex @that-one-anxious-mango @wabi-sabi1090 @nubiawrites @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @kianaleani @slutsareteacherstoo @slyy-foxx @dxddykenn @moujg @naughtynolly @wildcardmelaninfreak @pocketsizedpanther @wabi-sabi1090 @styleismyaddiction @novahreign @transparentphantomface @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @babymelaninn @jasmynn05 @notapradagurl7 @starcrossedxwriter

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calebsspouse · 3 months ago

Text

Caleb uses his Evol when you get tired while riding him.

The beads of sweat that have formed on your forehead, and the wrinkles between your brows are his full indication that you're nearly spent.

Every time you lift yourself up, he can feel your plush thighs tremble with effort. A hard sigh as you slam yourself back down onto his dick.

"Aww, honey." He coos, a condescending tone creeping in. "Do you want to switch positions?"

But you've always been stubborn. Both of you are well aware.

"No." A meek protest makes its way out, legs still shaking as you force yourself to keep going. Small moans of pleasure leave your parted lips, wanting to earn your orgasm yourself.

You're so needy. You need to just- Keep going-

And then you feel it. Somehow your weight gets lighter, and your thighs aren't as sore. Your once squeezed shut eyes reopen, searching for answers in Caleb's expression.

And the smug grin on his face tells you everything you need to know.

His evol. His.. stupid evol. And if anyone in this world could match your stubbornness it was Caleb. By a mile.

His arms were folded behind his head, his ever observant eyes catching onto your surprise.

"You're cheating!" You sneer breathlessly, the pleasure of the perfect rhythm betraying you.

Each smack of your thighs to his perfectly smooth skin elicits a sharp whimper from you.

And Caleb is living for it.

"You want me to stop?" He teases, holding you in the air in a pause. "I can stop."

"No!" You nearly scream in response, trying to force yourself hips back down onto his. "Caleb, please!" You whine, squirming in this suspended state.

"That's what I thought" Caleb snickers, lowering you back down harshly, a deep slam of him inside you. A loud, long moan flies from your mouth.

"Oh, fuck. Harder-" You demand, longing for the feeling of him fucking you senseless. "Caleb, harder!"

As if he needed another request. Moans sound from him as well, the chorus of both of you fill the bedroom. He could feel you were close and it was taking everything in him not to finish when your core gripped him like that.

"Oh- I'm close-" You whine, the wrinkles between your brows deepening as you throw your head back, fully giving in to the fact that Caleb was using you as a fleshlight at this point.

"That's my baby. Let me hear you. Just for me."

The possessiveness in his voice sends you over the edge, a wave of electricity running through your body as you finally orgasm. Your entire body shudders as you feel Caleb's resistance break, allowing himself to come undone with you.

You hear your name on his lips as you watch his muscular, perfect abdomen clench and unclench as he cums. His eyes roll back in his head as he smiles through it, his breathy moans a symphony in your ears.

Falling over on top of him, the two of you lay there. Nothing but the rising and falling of your chests pressed together. And fair to your stubborn nature, the last thing you were going to do is tell him how much you wanted to do it again.

Or that he was right. You did need his help.

————————————————————

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#lads caleb #lads #lnds #love and deepspace #caleb x reader #caleb smut #love and deepspace smut #lnds smut #lads smut #love and deepspace caleb #caleb x you #caleb headcanons #lads headcanons

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yassbishimvintage · 3 months ago

Text

Welcome to Chicago

A/N: The First installment of Sinners fanfic enjoy

Sinners Masterlist

Chicago 1926

The SmokeStack twins have made their claim to the city. Fresh from war and from Clarksdale,Mississippi. Stack, the ever so charming one. Looked around the city and smiled at his brother Smoke.

Stack adjusted his hat, the brim low over his eyes, but that smile—sharp as a razor and twice as dangerous—cut through the cold Chicago wind.

"Smell that, Smoke?" he said, his voice smooth like molasses but with an edge of iron. "Opportunity. This city don't know it yet, but it belongs to us now."

Smoke, broader in the shoulders and quieter by nature, just lit a fresh cigarette, the match flaring against the dark. He took a long drag and exhaled slow, watching the smoke curl into the sky like a signal.

"Ain't nothin' here but dirt and death, Stack," Smoke muttered, his Mississippi drawl still thick despite the months up north. "Same as back home. Just colder."

Stack laughed, that easy, dangerous laugh that had gotten them out of trouble more times than Smoke could count. Or into it.

"Nah, brother. This ain't Cocksdale. This is Chicago. Where dirt turns to gold if you got the stomach for it. And we? We got stomachs full of war and sin. These city boys—they ain't ready for Smoke and Stack."

He slapped his brother’s back, eyes already scanning the streets lined with flickering lamps and the distant thump of jazz clubs. The Outfit ran things now, but Stack had plans. Plans that started with blood and ended with empire.

"Let’s make our introduction," Stack grinned. "Real polite-like. And then we'll take everything else."

Stack looked around and he saw her. She had the pinned up curls. Skin just like honey.

Stack's smile faltered—just a flicker—but in a man like him, even a flicker meant something.

She stood across the street, framed by the golden haze of a streetlamp and the shimmer of rain slick on the pavement. Pinned curls neat as Sunday morning, but her eyes? They had Saturday night written all over them. Skin rich and warm, like honey poured slow.

She wasn’t looking at him, not yet. But Stack, he already knew. Knew the way trouble smelled sweet before it burned you.

"Well, I'll be damned," he muttered, half to himself.

Smoke caught the shift in his brother’s stance—the stillness, the sudden quiet—and followed his gaze.

"Don't even think about it, Stack," Smoke grunted, flicking ash to the gutter. "We came for business. Not for some city girl to put a noose 'round your neck."

But Stack, he was already stepping off the curb, hat tipped back just so, that crooked grin sliding back into place like a loaded gun.

"Brother," he drawled, "sometimes business starts with a pretty face."

And the city, big and mean and cold, seemed to hold its breath as Stack crossed the street, heading toward the honey-skinned woman who just might change everything.

Stack adjusted his collar, smoothing down the lapels of his coat as he closed the distance. His boots clicked against the wet pavement, each step slow, deliberate—like a man who had all the time in the world and planned to take it.

Up close, she was even more dangerous. Eyes sharp, like she’d seen men like him a hundred times and knew exactly how they fell. But still, she let him get close enough to smell the faint perfume on her skin—jasmine and something darker underneath.

"You lost, soldier?" she asked, voice low and smooth, like a record spinning late at night when the bar’s almost empty.

Stack let that grin spread, all charm and teeth. "Depends who’s asking."

She arched a brow, cool but not cold. "Annalise." She didn’t offer a last name. Didn’t need to. The way she said it made it sound like a promise and a warning all at once.

"Stack," he said, tipping his hat just a little. "And that big fella back there, that’s my brother, Smoke."

Annalise’s eyes flicked past him to Smoke, then back. "Cute names. Like a bad omen."

Stack chuckled, deep and warm. "We’ve been called worse, darlin'."

She shifted her weight, one heel tapping softly against the ground. "Well, Stack, you might want to watch your step. In this city, pretty boys with Southern smiles tend to disappear before they can unpack their bags."

Stack leaned in just enough, voice dropping to a murmur. "Good thing I didn’t come here to unpack. I came to claim."

Annalise held his gaze a beat longer, then smiled—not sweet, but sharp as a knife’s edge. "You’re gonna need more than charm for that."

And just like that, Stack knew—Chicago wasn’t the only thing he wanted to get his hands on.

Stack's smile was easy, but his eyes stayed sharp as razors. He tipped his head, watching her like a man sizing up a card table before placing his bet.

"Tell me what you do, pretty lady," he drawled, voice smooth like good bourbon.

Annalise's lips curled, just enough to show she wasn’t impressed—or maybe she was, but she’d never let him know it.

"I sing," she said simply, letting the words hang there between them like cigarette smoke. "At Le Mirage down on State Street. Maybe you’ve heard of it."

Stack’s grin widened. He hadn’t, but he liked the way she said it. Like the place belonged to her, or maybe like she owned every man who stepped inside.

"A singer," he mused, tilting his head. "Figures. A voice sweet enough to get a man killed."

Annalise’s eyes flickered, something colder there now. "Sweet don’t keep me alive in this city, sugar. Knowing when to shut my mouth does."

Stack laughed low. "Well now, ain’t that a shame. I was hopin’ to hear you sometime."

She stepped in a little closer—close enough that Stack caught that jasmine scent again, but her words were cool enough to freeze the air between them.

"Maybe you will. If you last long enough in Chicago to see Friday night."

Then she turned, curls bouncing as she started to walk away, heels clicking against the wet street. But just before she disappeared into the dark, she glanced back over her shoulder.

"Le Mirage. Midnight show. Don’t be late, Stack."

And just like that, she was gone—leaving Stack standing there, grinning like a fool, already knowing he was in deeper than he planned.

Behind him, Smoke muttered, "I told you. City girl’s gonna get you killed."

Stack just chuckled, eyes still on the spot where Annalise vanished. "Maybe, brother. But what a way to go."

Le Mirage hit them like a punch of heat and brass the second they stepped inside. Smoke thick as fog curled around the red velvet curtains, and the thrum of a stand-up bass rolled through the floorboards. The place was packed wall-to-wall: city boys in sharp suits, gang men with fat rings on their fingers, and dames dressed like every night might be their last big score.

Stack’s eyes swept the room, hungry, sharp—searching for that honey-skinned woman with the pinned curls.

But she found them first.

A soft voice, right at his shoulder. "Didn’t think you’d show."

Stack stiffened, then turned slow. And there she was—Annalise, dressed in midnight blue that caught the dim light like the surface of still water. Her pinned curls were perfect, but her eyes? They glittered with something wilder now.

"Couldn’t miss your show," Stack said, that grin sliding back into place. "Smoke and I, we got front-row curiosity."

Smoke grunted behind him, already sizing up the exits and the muscle leaning by the bar.

Annalise’s smile was small but knowing. "You boys are a long way from Mississippi. And you’re already in deeper than you realize." She leaned in, voice dropping low so only they could hear. "You made waves just by walkin’ in here. The kind of waves that get men followed home."

Stack’s grin didn’t falter, but his eyes narrowed, just a hair. "That a warning, darlin’?"

"It’s a fact," Annalise said, straightening up. "And facts don’t care how pretty you smile."

She stepped back, smoothing her dress, and nodded toward the stage. "Enjoy the show, Stack. But keep your head on a swivel. Le Mirage—it ain’t just for music."

Then she was gone again, slipping through the crowd with the grace of someone who knew exactly who was watching—and wanted them to.

Smoke muttered under his breath. "Told you. Trouble."

Stack just licked his lips, that fire lighting in his chest. "Yeah. But she’s my kind of trouble."

Up on the stage, the house band started to play, the lights dimmed, and somewhere in the shadows, men with cold eyes took note of the two strangers from Cocksdale.

And the night? The night was just getting started.

The lights dimmed until only the stage glowed soft and golden, like a secret whispered in the dark.

Then she appeared.

Annalise stepped into that light slow, deliberate, every move practiced to perfection. The room hushed—not because they wanted to, but because she commanded it.

Her dress clung to her like sin, dark blue velvet that shimmered with every sway of her hips. Her pinned curls caught the light just enough to make them gleam like a halo—an angel's crown, if angels had ever learned to smile like that.

And then she sang.

The first note slipped out like warm honey, low and smooth, wrapping around every man in the club and pulling them in closer.

"When the night falls slow… and the devil comes to dance…"

Stack felt it hit him square in the chest. That voice—it wasn’t just a song. It was a net, and he’d walked right into it with open arms.

Smoke shifted beside him, eyes scanning the corners of the club, catching the way certain men leaned in too close, the glint of steel at one table, the hard stares at another.

But Stack? He only had eyes for Annalise.

Because now he understood. This wasn’t just a performance. This was a ritual.

Every time she found a new admirer—someone bold or foolish enough to think they could touch her—she sang like this. Luring them in deeper, making sure they were well and truly tangled before the trap snapped shut.

Her gaze flickered toward him mid-verse, just a flicker, but it felt like a shot fired straight at his heart.

"You can call my name… but you’ll never stand a chance…"

Smoke leaned in close, voice tight. "We got eyes on us, Stack. Real eyes. More than one table. You feel that?"

But Stack didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Because right then, Annalise hit that high note, her voice breaking just enough to make every man in that club lean in like moths to flame.

And Stack knew—deep in his bones—that she wasn’t just singing for him.

She was setting the stage.

For what, he didn’t know yet.

But it was coming.

And it had her name written all over it.

The final note of Annalise’s song hung in the air like a blade suspended mid-swing. The crowd erupted in applause—cheers, whistles, the clink of glasses. But beneath that noise, Stack felt it. That low, crawling tension. The kind that made a man’s shoulders go tight without knowing why.

Smoke was already shifting. "Doors just locked." His voice was gravel. "Did you hear that click?"

Stack blinked, pulling himself back from the spell Annalise had wrapped around him. He caught it now—the bouncers weren’t watching the crowd. They were watching him and Smoke. The ones at the back doors? Already standing shoulder-to-shoulder. No one was leaving unless they said so.

And Annalise—she didn’t go backstage like a regular singer would. No, she stayed right there at the edge of the stage, one hand on the mic stand, eyes scanning the room. Cool. Calm. Like she’d just lit the fuse and was waiting to see where the explosion landed.

Stack’s grin dropped. Finally.

Smoke muttered, "Told you this place wasn’t just for music. We walked into a goddamn cage match."

The band kept playing, a soft tune now, but Stack noticed half of them were watching the exits too.

Then they saw him.

A big man in a sharp pinstripe suit, shoulders like a truck, stepped out from the shadows near the VIP booth. Gold ring flashing on one hand, the other holding a cigar like it was a weapon. His face was a map of old scars and broken promises.

Dominic "Dom" Lucetti. Capo in the Outfit. The kind of man who didn’t come out unless there was business—and blood—on the line.

He clapped slow, eyes fixed on Stack and Smoke.

"Well, well," Dom rumbled, voice carrying over the thinning applause. "The famous SmokeStack twins. Fresh off the train from Mississippi, thinking they can carve a piece outta my city."

The room went still. Every patron suddenly more interested in their drinks. Even the air seemed to thin.

Stack straightened his collar, forced that old grin back on. "Didn’t realize we were so popular already."

Dom chuckled, dark and humorless. "You made ripples, boys. Big ones. And ripples turn to waves." He gestured around. "This? This is me... making sure the waves don’t get too high."

Behind Stack, Smoke’s hand hovered near his coat—where he kept steel.

And from the stage, Annalise finally spoke.

"Play nice, Dom. They just got here." Her voice was sweet, but her eyes—when they flicked to Stack—were sharp as cut glass.

Dom laughed, a low rumble. "I am playing nice. For now." He turned his attention back to Stack. "So here’s the game, Southern boy: you walk outta here tonight... maybe with a few bruises, maybe not. But you walk out only if you make me believe you’re smart enough to fall in line."

Stack's jaw clenched. He could feel Smoke tensing beside him, ready for the fight.

Annalise stepped down from the stage, slow and graceful, coming to stand between Dom and the twins. Not close enough to take sides. But just close enough to remind everyone she was the one who set this whole thing spinning.

Her eyes met Stack’s, unreadable.

The choice hung there, heavy as a loaded gun.

Play along? Or make their claim the hard way, fists and bullets?

Stack’s fingers curled into fists at his side.

Dom smiled wider. "Well? What’s it gonna be, Mississippi?"

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izanacore · 4 months ago

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“this love (will be your downfall)” | ran haitani x reader

one-shot 𓂃⋆.˚

synopsis: at her lavish birthday party, y/n meets the mysterious ran haitani. their night takes a dangerous turn, leading to an unexpected connection. but what y/n doesn’t know is that ran has his own hidden agenda involving her powerful father, setting the stage for a game of control and manipulation.

characters: ran haitani, fem! reader

warnings: smut (18+), explicit sexual content, dubcon, blackmail, coercion, power imbalance, age gap, manipulation, drug use, smoking, non-consensual recording, degradation, threats, criminal activities, abusive dynamics, revenge plot, creampie, face-fucking, tongue-fucking, slapping, cumplay, hair pulling, overstimulation, unprotected sex

notes: y/n just turned 20 (consenting adult), and ran is 35. mdni. y/n is also gullible like?? but it’s ran haitani, so we cannot blame her! if there’s any content warnings i missed, feel free to reach me.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

the bass thumped through the club, loud enough to shake the floors, loud enough to make her forget just how many bodies were pressed together, dancing under the dim, neon lights. y/n’s birthday party was in full swing—private, extravagant, packed. she had booked the entire place for the night, and of course, almost everyone from her university was here. she was famous for this—for throwing the kind of parties people talked about for weeks.

“happy birthday, y/n!!!” someone shouted, and the room erupted in cheers.

she was at the center of it all—the mayor’s daughter, draped in a short red dress that left little to the imagination, a bottle of whiskey in hand, lips curling around the rim as she took a deep gulp. the alcohol burned down her throat, but the heat of the room, the energy in the air, drowned it out. she swayed to the music, hips rolling, body moving, tempting.

and then there was him.

sitting at the bar, watching. much older than anyone else in the room. the kind of man who didn’t belong here, yet owned every space he stepped into. long, lazy limbs, one hand wrapped around his glass, purple eyes locked onto her. studying her.

y/n drained the rest of her whiskey and stumbled toward the bar, pressing her palms onto the cool counter. “uh… excuse me, can i get another one of this? thank youuuu!” her voice was light, airy—drunk.

“nice party you have here, miss.”

she blinked, turning her head. a man, leaning against the bar beside her. tall, striking, his voice smooth like honey and just as dangerous.

her brows furrowed slightly. “uh…? do i know you?”

“my apologies.” a lazy smirk curled his lips as he extended a hand. “ran haitani.”

y/n’s gaze flickered to it before she turned away, ignoring the gesture entirely. instead, she reached for the fresh bottle the bartender slid toward her.

“well, mr. haitani, i hope you have fun tonight,” she said, voice playful as she tipped the bottle up, already prepared to walk away.

but she didn’t get far.

a firm grip circled her wrist, and suddenly, she was pulled in. too close. her breath hitched as she found herself inches from him, the scent of expensive cologne and whiskey clouding her senses.

“as the host of the party,” ran murmured, eyes dark, “don’t you think you should entertain your guests, hm?”

y/n tilted her head, lips twitching into a smirk. she was easy to persuade, and he knew it. “what do you have in mind?”

ran’s hand slid down to her waist, fingers pressing in as he tugged her even closer—as if they weren’t already pressed together. her free hand landed on his chest, feeling the solid muscle beneath his shirt.

“is the private lounge available?” his voice was smooth, teasing.

she nodded.

his smirk deepened, wicked and knowing. he leaned in, breath hot against her skin, lips brushing her neck in the lightest of kisses.

“you smell so nice…” he murmured. “shall i meet you there?”

excitement curled low in her stomach. she had just turned twenty. she wanted to try something new, something thrilling, something… mature. and she had a feeling this man could give her exactly what she craved.

she pulled back, handing her bottle off to one of her friends, mumbling a half-hearted excuse. they whined, but she barely heard them. her mind was already elsewhere.

ran was already walking away, heading up the stairs to the private lounge.

and y/n?

she followed.

the private lounge was dimly lit, quieter than the chaos downstairs. y/n pushed the door open, heart still thrumming from the alcohol and the anticipation twisting in her gut. but as her gaze landed on the man inside, her breath caught.

ran was standing by the nightstand, casually tipping a small packet of white powder onto the surface.

he noticed her lingering by the doorway and smirked. “wanna try?”

she hesitated. she’d never gone beyond alcohol before. never dared to. but tonight was about new experiences. about feeling something different. something… thrilling.

so she nodded.

with a quiet click, she locked the door behind her and stepped closer, dropping to her knees by the nightstand. but now that she was here, staring at the fine white powder, she realized—she had no idea what to do.

ran watched her closely, reading the hesitation in her fingers as she hovered uncertainly. “haven’t tried before?” his voice was low, amused.

she shook her head, lips parting slightly in innocence.

ran’s smirk deepened.

“stick out your tongue for me, baby.”

she obeyed instantly, mouth opening, tongue flicking out just as he reached for her. long fingers gripped her jaw, pressing into her cheeks just enough to keep her still.

with a slow, deliberate motion, he scooped up some of the powder onto his thumb and dragged it across her tongue.

“suck.”

her lips wrapped around his finger, warm and soft, and ran groaned quietly. she barely noticed, too focused on the bitter taste dissolving on her tongue.

“good girl.”

heat curled in her stomach at those words. she didn’t understand why, but the way he said it—low, rough, approving—made something inside her stir.

“wanna try more?”

she nodded obediently.

ran inhaled a line himself, tilting his head back slightly as he exhaled, eyes flickering to her. “try it like that.”

she copied him, the rush hitting her instantly. her body felt lighter, her head dizzy with an intoxicating mix of alcohol, drugs, and the heavy presence of the man before her.

soon, the powder on the table was nearly gone, and y/n was sinking onto the floor, high, weightless, consumed.

and then—she watched as ran shrugged off his coat, fingers leisurely unbuttoning his polo.

her breath hitched.

his gaze dropped to her.

“fuck.” ran exhaled, tilting his head, watching her like prey. “look at you… you’re begging to be fucked, aren’t ya?”

before she could even process his words, he was kneeling in front of her, fingers tangling in her hair, forcing her to look up at him.

“i’m gonna fucking ruin you.”

his voice was dangerous, dripping with wicked promise.

and she let him.

ran yanked her hair, guiding her toward the bed before spreading her legs apart with his hands. his gaze stayed on her as he kissed along her inner thighs, lips trailing over her soft skin before marking her with bites. he licked over the fresh marks, savoring the way she shivered beneath him.

without hesitation, he tore her panties, exposing her completely. his eyes darkened as he spit onto her core, then used two fingers to spread her apart. before she could react, his tongue was on her, flicking against her heat. her hand shot to his hair, fingers tugging as a gasp left her lips, but ran easily pinned her wrists down. he ate her out mercilessly, tongue fucking into her before moving to her clit, making her a trembling, moaning mess beneath him.

“fucking slut, your legs are shaking,” he chuckled before diving back in.

“your tongue feels so fucking good inside me—oh god!” she moaned, voice breathy and desperate.

ran glanced up at her, amusement flickering in his gaze. “boys your age don’t eat you out like this?”

she shook her head, barely able to form words. “no—no one’s as good as you.”

a few more strokes of his tongue, and she came suddenly, body tensing as pleasure crashed over her. her thighs twitched in his hold, breath catching as she rode out the high.

ran didn’t waste a second. he dragged his fingers through the wetness still dripping from her, collecting her release before slipping them into his mouth. his tongue swirled around them as he sucked, letting out a pleased hum while keeping his gaze locked on hers.

she could only watch, dazed, her body still trembling from overstimulation.

but he wasn’t done. his hands gripped her thighs, holding her in place as he gave a slow, deliberate lick from her bottom to her clit, making her jolt beneath him.

“fuck—” she gasped, body twitching from the aftershocks.

her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath, overwhelmed. he smirked at the sight before moving up, caressing her cheek before landing a light slap.

“let’s put that filthy mouth to use, hm?”

she nodded.

he stepped away from the bed, fingers working to unbuckle his belt.

y/n slid off the mattress, dropping to her knees in front of him without hesitation. but the moment she saw him fully, she froze—it was bigger than she expected. she had never taken someone this size before.

“don’t keep me waiting,” ran warned, his tone leaving no room for hesitation.

she wrapped her fingers around him, giving the tip a few slow, teasing licks before taking him into her mouth. her pace was careful at first, but ran was growing impatient. “tsk,” he clicked his tongue, watching her with narrowed eyes.

without warning, he placed both hands on either side of her head to steady her as he fucked her mouth. a muffled moan escaped her as he took control, his cock pushing deeper past her lips. ran let out a low chuckle, clearly enjoying the sight of her wide eyes and the way she struggled to take him in.

tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she worked to keep up, but the way she looked at him—completely wrecked with pleasure—sent a new wave of heat through him. ran didn’t want anything else in this moment. this was heaven.

after all, her father was nothing but a corrupt politician—pulling strings, making backdoor deals with bonten, yet never paying what he owed. promises stacked on top of lies, and ran had grown tired of the excuses. the stress of it all weighed on him, and now, looking at her, he figured—if her father wasn’t going to settle his debts, then ran would take his payment in another way—by fucking his daughter’s mouth to release some stress. it was his fault anyway.

pleasure coursed through him, his grip tightening as he let his head fall back, eyes fluttering shut. the sight alone had y/n growing wetter—his unbuttoned shirt exposing defined abs, his parted lips drawing in uneven breaths. it didn’t matter anymore if ran used her. all the pain and pleasure were worth it. she wanted to etch this moment into her memory forever.

ran pulled back after a few more thrusts, watching as y/n cupped her own breasts through her clothes, tilting her head back with her tongue out—wordlessly asking for it. he smirked. “what a fucking slut,” he muttered, stroking himself a few more times before spilling across her tongue.

some of it dripped down, staining her dress, and he shuddered slightly at the sight. it was filthy. intoxicating. watching her swallow without hesitation only made his smirk widen.

were all girls her age this wild? this reckless, yet still carrying that underlying innocence? it was a perfect combination. perfect for someone like him.

ran leaned back against the headboard, running a hand through his hair, looking effortlessly gorgeous. y/n sat there, stunned. how had she ended up here—with a man like him? no one her age could compare. they were all immature, clueless, and terrible in bed. but ran? he had experience, and she could feel every bit of it. she had always wanted someone older, someone who knew what they were doing—and god, was she loving it.

“come here,” ran murmured, his voice low and commanding. she hesitated for only a second before moving onto his lap. his sharp eyes traced over her like he was sizing her up, and then he tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“what do you think about being my girlfriend?” he asked, so casually it almost felt unreal.

“w-what?” her breath hitched. it wasn’t like she didn’t want to. hell, she did—badly. he was exactly her type. older, confident, devastatingly attractive. but she never thought someone like him would want her. surely, he was better suited for someone more refined, someone who had her life together, not a girl still figuring things out.

“i said, be my girlfriend.” ran repeated, watching her reaction closely.

“w-we just met today… shouldn’t we go on a few dates first?” she asked, trying to be rational.

ran chuckled, his fingers tracing slow patterns on her back as he found the zipper of her dress. “does it matter, baby? i can take you on as many dates as you want once you’re mine.” his voice was smooth, confident, leaving no room for argument. as he dragged the zipper down, his lips followed, pressing soft kisses along her shoulders, down her arms, between the valley of her breasts. when he looked up at her again, his eyes were dark, unreadable.

for y/n, this was exactly what she wanted. the moment she laid eyes on ran downstairs, she knew—she had to have him. but for ran? that was more than just desire. it was the perfect way to get under her father’s skin.

ran pulled her closer, his hands gripping her waist as he pressed his lips to her neck. his touch was firm yet careful, guiding her as she rocked against him, the slickness between them making every movement easier. his hands slid down to her ass, helping her grind against him as he let out a low groan.

“shit… you’re making me hard again,” he muttered, tilting his head back, eyes dark with hunger.

the heat between them was unbearable now. ran cupped the back of her neck, pulling her in for a deep, messy kiss, his tongue sliding against hers in a filthy rhythm. his lips traveled lower, latching onto one of her breasts while his hand kneaded the other. “fuck, ran…” she moaned, her body arching into his touch.

he pulled away slightly, smirking as he brushed a thumb over her swollen lips. “call me daddy, hm?”

her breath hitched, but she nodded, eager to please. ran chuckled, clearly entertained by her willingness. “such a good girl,” he murmured, his large hands roaming her body, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

“gonna stretch this little pussy out by daddy, do you like that?” he teased, his voice low and dripping with promise.

she whimpered, still grinding against him, too lost in pleasure to form a coherent response. ran grabbed her chin, making her look at him. “answer me when i ask you a question.”

“y-yes… yes, daddy,” she gasped, her body trembling against him.

his palm came down on her ass, the sharp sting making her whimper. “good girl.”

she bit her lip before whispering, “do you have a condom?”

ran exhaled, brushing his fingers along her jaw. “not on me, baby. but we don’t need it, right? i’ll just pull out.”

“you promise?”

“i promise.”

but ran was never one to play fair.

he motioned for her to lift her hips slightly, his hands gripping her thighs as he guided his cock through her slick folds. “fuck, you’re dripping for me,” he murmured, watching the way her body responded to him.

how could she not? the sight of him alone—his tattoos on full display, his toned body beneath her—was enough to drive her crazy. his thick cock pressing against her entrance only made her needier.

“daddy, it’s unfair… you’re still clothed. wanna take this off,” she pouted, tugging lightly at his waistband in a silent request.

ran paused his movements as his gaze darkened. “who said you could demand shit from me?”

“just don’t want you getting uncomfortable…” she admitted, ran grinned at the sight. that sweet, innocent expression—ran could never get enough of it.

ran kissed her again, this time guiding her onto her back until she was lying beneath him. he pulled off his polo shirt in front of her, revealing his tattoos, then discarded his pants. before y/n could even process the sight, ran was already pressing inside her, stretching her out in a way that had her moaning loudly. he lifted one of her legs over his shoulder, angling deeper.

the way she clenched around him had his breath hitching. she was gripping him so perfectly, it was addictive—too good. he was getting lost in the feeling, in the way her body wrapped around him. it had him groaning low in his throat.

“fuck, your pussy’s so tight—won’t even let me go, huh?”

y/n felt overwhelmed, every sensation making her dizzy. was it just because of him? was it the drugs affecting her system? or was she just too horny? regardless, she loved everything ran was giving her.

but then, ran suddenly stopped.

“ran—daddy—please!” she whined, already a mess beneath him.

he chuckled at her desperation, amusement flickering in his gaze. “what does my baby want?” his voice was thick with pleasure, just as affected as she was.

“want—you! want more of you.”

“say you’re my girlfriend first, then i’ll move.”

“w-what?”

ran chuckled, tilting his head. “already dumbfucked, baby? i said, tell me you wanna be my girlfriend, and i’ll give you what you want.”

“i am! i’m your girlfriend now—please! please, i want more!”

“you mean that?”

“y-yes! just—please—”

ran pushed back inside her, this time moving faster and deeper. y/n couldn't think straight anymore, completely lost in the overwhelming pleasure. she felt like she was drowning in it.

meanwhile, in ran's mind, everything was going exactly as he wanted. his plan was set in motion, and he was going to enjoy every second of it. the way she responded to him was just a bonus.

"daddy, i'm gonna-" y/n gasped, her body tensing as another wave of pleasure crashed over her.

with a few more thrusts, she came undone again, her body trembling. tears pricked at the corners of her eyes on how intense it all felt.

but ran wasn't finished yet. instead, he pulled out and leaned back against the headboard, grabbing y/n's arms to guide her into position. her back pressed against his chest, her legs spread as he helped her settle over him.

easily sliding back inside her, ran held her thighs, keeping her steady as he moved again. y/n buried her face in his neck, breathy moans spilling from her lips. her lips brushed against his skin before she captured his mouth in a desperate kiss, and ran, amused, let her take what she wanted.

her tongue slipping into his mouth in a messy kiss. ran didn’t pull away—in fact, he enjoyed how needy she was for him.

“fuck, i’m getting addicted to this pussy,” he groaned, his pace becoming rougher, faster. the pleasure was too much, building inside y/n again until she was teetering on the edge, “only mine to fuck.”

“shit, baby, i’m close,” ran gritted out, his grip tightening on her thighs.

“daddy… pull out…” y/n managed to whisper between her moans, her body trembling from the overwhelming pleasure.

but her words fell on deaf ears as he kept fucking her.

“ran, please—” she was in a position where she couldn’t move, her legs held together by ran.

shit, she thought. ran wasn’t pulling out—but with how good it felt, she didn’t want him to, either.

“fuck! fuck!!!” ran cursed, gripping her tighter as he reached his peak, his movements growing more intense as he pushed deeper. he came inside her, wanting to bury himself as far as possible.

the sensation overwhelmed y/n, sending her over the edge right after him. her mind went blank, lost in the pleasure that consumed her.

all her overthinking disappeared the moment she felt his warm release. it was the first time someone had come inside her, and the feeling was different—so much better than pulling out or using a condom. she’d just take a pill later. for now, she wanted to feel the sensation of ran’s cum filling her.

her body trembled in his hold, breaths uneven as she tried to steady herself. ran didn’t pull away immediately, rolling his hips slowly drawing out every last drop of his release, making sure he filled her completely. silence filled the room, broken only by their heavy breathing.

ran carefully lowered her leg before slowly pulling out, a low sigh escaping him at the loss of warmth. he couldn’t believe it—out of all the women he’d been with, this was the most intense sex he’d ever had. and it was with her. the daughter of the bastard he was supposed to be after. fifteen years younger than him. fuck.

he let her rest against his chest, both of them catching their breaths, bodies still buzzing from the high. his fingers absentmindedly brushed strands of hair away from her face before pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. reaching over to the nightstand, ran grabbed a cigarette, lighting it with a practiced ease before taking a slow drag, the smoke curling lazily in the dimly lit room.

after a few moments, y/n tilted her head up, looking at him with a sweet, dazed smile. god, he was gorgeous. she still couldn’t believe someone like him was finally hers. her father always dismissed her past boyfriends, calling them lowlifes, immature, unworthy of her. but maybe, just maybe, this time would be different. ran was older, mature, and carried himself with a sense of class. he wasn’t like the boys her age. surely, her father would approve of him.

even if they had just met.

but, well… the dates could come after, just like ran said. right?

but for ran… well, he had other plans.

her phone buzzed on the nightstand, drawing her attention. she reached for it, settling back against ran’s chest as she read the message.

it was from her father, asking what time she’d be home since it was already late—and reminding her that he had only booked the venue until 1 a.m.

he took a slow drag, exhaling a cloud of smoke as he peeked at her screen. almost immediately, a wicked idea took root in his mind.

“let me take you home,” he offered, his voice sweet, innocent—completely masking the real intentions brewing beneath.

“okay!” she beamed, excitement lacing her tone. “oh! i’ll introduce you to my dad too, if that’s okay? i’m sure he’ll love you!”

ran took another drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke curl past his lips as he watched her with amusement. he simply nodded, playing along. things were unfolding far smoother than he could have hoped. he could already picture the bastard’s face when she introduced him as her boyfriend. after everything her father had done to bonten—after the headache he’d caused by stirring conflict between him and koko over an unpaid debt—ran was going to enjoy every second of this.

once they were dressed, they headed out to ran’s car.

the ride to her house was quiet, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional sound of ran’s fingers tapping against the steering wheel. his other hand, however, rested on her inner thigh, his touch light yet possessive. and the craziest part? y/n didn’t mind. at all. despite the fact that she’d just met him tonight—and he was already her boyfriend, for fuck’s sake.

out of nowhere, she broke the silence. “how do you even know me, by the way?”

ran smirked, eyes still on the road. “you’re the mayor’s precious daughter. how could i not?”

“oh,” she muttered. “i just figured you wouldn’t care. y’know, since you’re older, probably busy with your adult life. honestly, i thought you might’ve been married or something…”

ran let out a low chuckle. “nah. well, thank god i’m not married, or i wouldn’t have been able to meet (fuck) you.” he shot her a wink, and just like that, her face burned.

smooth talker. how gullible of her.

soon, they pulled up in front of her house. big, grand—exactly what you’d expect from the mayor’s residence.

“wait, give me a sec.” she fished through her bag, pulling out a compact mirror. the moment she caught sight of the marks blooming along her collarbone and chest, her stomach dropped. “shit. my dad’s gonna kill me.”

ran only chuckled, shrugging off his coat and draping it over her shoulders. “there.”

she looked up at him, touched by the gesture. “thank you,” she said softly, slipping her arms into the sleeves.

ran leaned against the car door, tilting his head. “ready?”

before she could even answer, he stepped out and made his way to her side, opening the door for her.

what a gentleman. she felt warmth spread through her chest. funny, how even the bare minimum had her blushing. but could she blame herself? no guy had ever treated her like this before. they only ever saw her as the mayor’s daughter—an accomplishment to claim, someone to fuck just to say they did.

she approached the guard at the front door, her fingers laced with ran’s. “uh, where’s my dad?”

“he’s in the patio, ma’am.”

“okay, thank you.”

without hesitation, she stepped inside, pulling ran along with her. the house was as grand as ever. when she spotted her father outside, she slid open the glass door and called out, “dad! i’m home!”

her father turned, his face softening as he pulled her into a warm embrace. “happy birthday, sweetheart.”

they pulled away, and she smiled up at him. “dad, i want you to meet someone.”

he raised an eyebrow, curious. she turned slightly and signaled for ran to come over. he did, leisurely making his way toward them.

the moment her father saw him, all color drained from his face.

“dad, this is my boyfriend, ran haitani.”

ran bowed slightly, his smirk never faltering. “pleasure to meet you, sir.”

her father stood frozen, staring up at the tall man before him like he’d seen a ghost.

“dad?” she frowned. “are you okay?”

“y-yeah, honey. i’m okay.” his voice wavered, though. his hands trembled slightly at his sides.

because this—this was a nightmare.

ran haitani. the very man he had been running from. the man who had been threatening his life over the debts he couldn’t pay. the same debts that stemmed from his desperation, from his greed. he had gone to bonten himself, requested their help to get rid of his political opponent when it seemed like he was going to lose the election. and bonten did their job well—flawlessly, in fact. but the price? far more than he ever imagined. higher than his assets, higher than anything he could afford.

and the longer he didn’t pay, the higher the debt climbed.

and now—now that debt had walked right through his front door, holding his daughter’s hand.

“dad, i just need to fix something in my room. can you keep ran company for a bit? he’s staying over tonight,” y/n said casually.

“but, y/n—” her father started, but she was already hurrying upstairs, leaving him alone with ran.

the moment she was out of sight, his expression darkened. “what the hell are you doing here?” he hissed.

ran only smirked, “just here to collect what you owe me.”

“leave my daughter out of this! she’s only twenty!” his voice was low but seething, trying to keep his anger contained.

ran exhaled a quiet chuckle, his amusement barely hidden. “even better. never had a girl that young before.”

rage flared in the mayor’s eyes, and his fists clenched. he took a step forward, ready to throw a punch, but ran barely moved. “i wouldn’t do that if i were you,” he warned, his tone light but laced with something dangerous.

ran pulled out his phone, showing y/n’s father a video of him and his daughter from earlier. apparently, ran had placed a camera in the room, recording everything they did—from y/n doing drugs to them having sex.

ran smirked, watching the mayor’s face drain of color. he tilted his phone just enough for him to see before pulling it away. “relax,” he drawled, slipping the device back into his pocket. “i’m not that cruel. yet.”

the mayor swallowed hard, his eyes flickering with unease.

“one wrong move, and this goes public,” ran continued, voice smooth yet deadly. “your sweet little girl? ruined. and you? well, you’ll go down with her.” he let out a low chuckle. “wouldn’t want the city’s beloved mayor to have a scandal like this, huh? your precious daughter exposed?”

ran took a step closer, lowering his voice. “but let’s be real, that’s not even the worst of it.” his smirk widened. “see, i could just expose what you did. how you crawled to bonten, begged us to get rid of your opponent because you were too much of a coward to lose.”

the mayor’s face twisted in pure panic. “please, don’t!” he hissed, voice barely above a whisper. “and leave her out of this. i swear i’ll pay you. just give me time. i’ll give you whatever you want!”

“nah,” ran scoffed, shoving his hands into his pockets. “the only good thing i got from all your bullshit is your daughter’s body. i’m keeping her.”

her father’s jaw clenched, but ran only chuckled, clearly entertained by his reaction.

before he could respond, y/n’s voice called from upstairs. “ran, come up here!!”

“that’s my cue,” ran grinned. “time for round two.”

he laughed as he walked away, leaving the mayor standing there, frozen in place. he’s done for sure…

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ccupcakqs · 1 month ago

Text

— the light in the lake ౨ৎ✧˚

warnings: minor injury mention, smitten percy pairing: percy jackson x daughter of apollo a/n: for all my apollo girlies :)

you weren’t expecting him.

it had been a quiet afternoon — the kind where sunlight drifted lazily through golden curtains, catching in the dust motes like glitter suspended in honey. most of your siblings were outside, training or writing awful poems for offerings. you’d taken the rare stillness as an invitation to read, curled in a beam of sunlight with a book balanced on your knees.

then the cabin door swung open.

and there he was.

percy jackson. limping. bleeding. looking like he’d walked straight out of a war movie and directly into your life.

“hey, sunshine,” he said, like he wasn’t currently dripping blood on the hardwood floor.

you sat bolt upright, heart skipping. “percy?”

he gave a lopsided, sheepish smile and lifted his hand from his side just enough for you to catch a glimpse of the red. “you got room for one more hopeless case?”

“you’re bleeding,” you said, already setting the book aside, your fingers tingling as your healing instinct surged to the surface.

“only a little.” he wobbled on his feet. “not fatal. probably.”

you crossed the room in three steps and guided him, none too gently, to sit on the nearest bunk. “you are so dramatic.”

“some girls like that in a guy,” he said, wincing as he lowered himself. “you know—mysterious, brooding, covered in blood.”

“if that’s your idea of flirting, you need a full reboot,” you muttered.

your hands were already glowing faintly. warmth built beneath your skin as you peeled back the ripped hem of his shirt. the cut was deep, diagonal across his side, angry and red. a monster had definitely tried to take a piece of him.

“what happened?” you asked, focusing on the wound even as your eyes flicked to his face.

“training gone wrong. very wrong. or maybe I offended a hydra’s mother,” he joked, biting back a hiss as you gently touched the skin around the injury.

“hydras don’t have mothers,” you murmured absently, placing your hand over the worst part of the gash. “they just appear.”

“well, i found the one exception.”

a soft glow bloomed between your palm and his skin. his breath hitched.

your magic wasn’t flashy like some of your siblings. it was subtle—warm and steady, like the sun breaking through clouds. it crept along the edges of the wound, encouraging his body to knit itself back together. slow. soothing. patient.

he was quiet now. watching you.

you could feel his gaze more than see it—an almost physical thing. like sunlight on the back of your neck. you tried not to look up.

tried not to notice the way he softened in your presence.

“you always do that,” he said finally, voice low.

“do what?”

“shine like that.”

you blinked, caught off guard. “i’m healing you.”

“not just the magic,” he said. “you just... glow. all the time.”

your hands stilled for a moment. heat crept up your neck.

“that’s a side effect of being apollo’s kid,” you said lightly, trying to brush it off. “we’re all cursed with photogenic lighting.”

but he didn’t look away. “no, it’s not that. it’s you. you shine like... i don’t know. sunlight on water.”

you swallowed. your heart did a small, dumb flutter.

“you have a concussion,” you said, carefully avoiding his eyes. “you’re talking nonsense.”

he laughed softly. it was a good sound. it made your stomach twist a little.

“maybe. or maybe i’ve just been meaning to say that for a while.”

your fingers lingered at the edge of the wound, which was mostly healed now. the skin had stitched itself clean beneath your touch, smooth and unbroken.

you let your hand rest there just a beat longer than necessary.

when you finally pulled back, you sat down beside him on the bed. neither of you said anything right away. the light through the window had shifted, turning the cabin gold. it caught in his hair, glinting off the edges of his eyelashes.

he looked at you, quieter now. softer.

“i hate that you keep seeing me like this,” he said. “bleeding. wrecked. broken.”

you turned your body toward him, knees touching.

“i don’t,” you said simply. “i’d rather see you like this. real, than not at all.”

his breath caught.

then, after a pause, he said, “do you say things like that to everyone?”

you smiled, small and sure. “no. just the ones i’d stay up all night to heal.”

percy didn’t say anything. he just reached up, fingertips brushing your cheek so softly it felt like a dream.

“you’re dangerous,” he murmured.

“i heal people,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

“exactly.”

his thumb traced the corner of your jaw. your breath caught. time folded in on itself, like the whole world had narrowed to this one moment, this one room, this one boy looking at you like you were sunlight incarnate.

then, like a spell breaking, he leaned back slightly and let his hand fall to his lap.

“can i rest here?” he asked. “just for a while?”

you nodded, heart thudding. “yeah. of course.”

he stretched out on the bunk, sighing as he sank into the pillows. you covered him with the blanket, tucking it under his arms with a tenderness you didn’t try to hide.

just as you turned to walk away, his voice drifted after you, low and sleepy.

“you really are the light in the lake.”

you paused, smile blooming slow.

“you say the weirdest things when you’re tired.”

“not tired,” he mumbled, eyes closing. “just in love.”

you didn’t let yourself answer. didn’t let yourself fall into that feeling.

but gods, it would be so easy.

and maybe, just maybe, you were already halfway there.

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muwapsturniolo · 16 days ago

Text

Theif ⋆.𐙚 ̊ C. Sturniolo

“Smooth. Hydrated. Mysteriously powerful.”

⟢ nothing but fluff tbh! this is my ulta reader btw, but there is no mentions of her working at ulta.

Divider @bernardsbendystraws

It had been a last-minute decision—just a late-night exchange of texts, quiet and impulsive, ending with Chris agreeing to come over and stay the night. He’d never admit it to anyone—he had a reputation to keep, after all—but he was genuinely excited.

So excited, that he completely forgot to pack some of his personal care stuff. He only realized once he locked himself in her bathroom, about to take a shower. He muttered a few curses under his breath, his eyes darting around like a man on a mission. Then he spotted the shower caddy — a golden overstuffed bin packed with every kind of body wash and scrub imaginable.

He grumbled, already imagining himself smelling like a walking cupcake, but shrugged and stepped into the shower. Grabbing a random bottle of body wash, he squeezed some onto his washcloth.

As the hot water hit, the scent bloomed—sweet, floral, almost like a fancy bakery—and surprisingly, it started to relax him. The bathroom felt more spa-like than a regular bath. Curious, he reached for one of the small jars, wondering what other mysterious potions she’d stashed away that might turn this shower into a full-on pampering session.

He got completely lost in the magical world of body care, slathering on everything he could find. Meanwhile, her patience was running thin.

What on earth was taking him so long?

Chris’s showers were usually quick — ten minutes max. Just as she was about to get up and see what was going on, Chris appeared in her room, a goofy, satisfied grin on his face.

Chris sighed and flopped onto her bed, eyes closed, clearly savoring the new, fresh feeling. She opened her mouth to ask why his shower had taken so long, but stopped mid-question when a familiar scent hit her nose.

It was a smell she knew all too well.

Her brows knitted together as she leaned in closer, nose twitching like a bloodhound on a scent trail. She sniffed his hair, then his neck, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“Hey—what the hell are you sniffing me for—hey!” Chris tried to yank his arm away, but she grabbed it, raised it to her nose, and took a deep sniff.

A dramatic gasp escaped her lips as she dropped his arm and pointed an accusing finger right at him.

“You used my body wash! And my scrub!”

Chris sat up fast, panic flickering in his eyes like a guilty golden retriever. He shook his head so hard his damp curls bounced.

“No I didn’t!” he blurted, voice way too defensive for someone who definitely did.

she squinted at him like a human lie detector. “Yes, you did. Don’t even try me, Chris. I know my grapefruit and honey body wash when I smell it—and I smell my pomegranate scrub too!”

She jabbed a finger toward his chest for emphasis.

Chris blinked. “Babe, that could be anyone’s grapefruit. That could be, like... ambient grapefruit.”

She raised an eyebrow.

He sighed, busted. “Okay, fine. But in my defense, your stuff smells like heaven and made my skin feel like a dolphin.”

She blinked. “A what?”

“A dolphin!” he said, proudly rubbing his arm. “Smooth. Hydrated. Mysteriously powerful.”

She smacked her lips in mock annoyance, then gave him a light shove, pushing him back down onto the bed. She flopped down beside him with a dramatic sigh, settling into his freshly pampered shoulder.

“You owe me new body wash. And scrub,” she said, shooting him a side-eye.

Chris grinned, already inching an arm around her. “I’ll get us the big bottles,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows. “So we can share. You know—real couple stuff.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t pull away, resting her head against him. “You’re lucky you smell good.”

“I always smell good,” he said smugly. “I just upgraded to luxury goods.”

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo au #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x you #chris girl #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fluff

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holybibly · 8 months ago

Text

A sweet treat for my bunnies in honour of the one and only fascinating fox, Jung Wooyoung's birthday.

Unholy hour of the day: You love Wooyoung's possessive side, maybe so much that sometimes you don't mind playing with fire to see how long you can push his buttons before he puts you down.

Or you flirt with the other members, and Wooyoung has to use a rather unconventional method to remind you who you belong to. Inspired by their latest comeback, your boyfriend tests your limits by using ice play.

Warning: Temperature play, ice play

"Tell me, who do you belong to, Peach?' Wooyoung asks you in a sultry, hoarse voice as he hovers seductively over you and slowly moves his cold, plump lips along the tender column of your neck. You can feel the remnants of ice that were still in his mouth quickly melting as they come into contact with your heated skin, sending shivers of excitement through your spine. His lithe, strong body traps you between the searing heat of his smooth, honeyed skin and the coolness of the black silk sheets, plunging you into a voluptuous abyss of contrasting sensations as he continues to leisurely explore your skin with his incredibly soft lips and licking the moisture that has accumulated on it languidly with his cool tongue.

"I don't know... maybe you're the one who can tell me who I belong to, Woo?" Your voice is hardly louder than a whisper as you say these words. Maybe you're being a little too bold, teasing Wooyoung like this, knowing full well that he won't let it go and will surely punish you for it. But the dark, burning stare of his heavy siren eyes and the sharp touch of his teeth against your skin were absolutely worth it.

Wooyoung lets out a grim chuckle that doesn't bode well and makes you shiver before he grabs a fresh ice cube from the crystal vase on your bedside table and slides it across the hollow between your soft, large breasts. The air in your bedroom is so exhaustingly heavy, mixed with the rich smoky cherry scent of Woooo's favourite perfume, and it settles into your lungs with each deep breath, soaking into the airy velvety flesh of your lungs and clouding your mind. Your whole body blossoms under his touch. The contrast of the hot body hovering over you and the scintillant cold ice feels divine, delightful enough to make your pretty pussythrob with desire.

"Hmm, try it once more, Peach. C'mon, it's so easy, isn't it? Who do you belong to?" Wooyoung begins to guide the ice cube up the side of one of your breasts until he has pressed the clear, frozen piece of water against your berry-red nipple. Over and over again, it goes round and round your swollen, pointed nipple in a circle until the ice has completely melted. Warm trickles of liquid run down your sides and down your stomach, dripping onto the silk sheets beneath you and leaving dark trails of desire, and you catch your breath as he leans over your breast and sucks your almost numb nipple into his wet, warm mouth.

Your whole body burns with fever from the scorching touch of his soft, sensual lips. You tangle your fingers in his hair, squeezing the silky, raven-wing-coloured strands between your trembling fingers as he continues to service your nipple with his tongue and teeth. Wooyoung gently bites down on the sensitive flesh, holding it in tension, and then pulls gently on it a couple of times before releasing it from his mouth with a wet, loud 'pop' sound.

"Peach..." Your boyfriend purrs sultrily and huskily, taking a fresh ice cube from the vase. "I'm still waitin' for your answer."

"Maybe it's San? You know he looks after me..." You stammer, continuing to annoy Wooyoung, but all of your insolence melts away as quickly as the ice as Wooyoung begins his delicious torture with your other breast. The sensation of the cold and the heat makes you gasp for breath, and you raise your juicy, soft thighs in a silent plea for more.

"You know I can do this all night, baby." Wooyoung runs his cold fingers over your belly as he slides down your body and nestles himself comfortably between your spread legs.

I... I don't know...' Your hips sway invitingly to his touch as Wooyoung's fingertips finally reach your pussy. Even though you know it's coming, you can't help but let out a loud cry as the icy cube caught between the pads of his fingers presses against your clit.

He rubs the melting ice cube agonisingly slowly around your sensitive nerve cluster before lightly pushing it between your plump labia to slide it down your slit to your little hole. Just when you think Wooyoung can't make his little game any more sophisticated, he blows lightly on your quivering wet folds, causing you to roll your eyes in pleasure and squirm in your spot. The black silk sheets beneath you are soon soaked with melting ice and the slime that oozes from your trembling hole.

Wooyoung barely lets you breathe as he clamps a new ice cube between his teeth and spreads your labia with two fingers, then presses the ice directly against your swollen clit, watching it shrink and turn red from the cold. Cool water runs down your cunt as the ice cube melts in his mouth, and Woo continues, soaking you with the melting ice until it's completely gone, then stroking your clit with his hot tongue—the change in temperature making you shiver with excitement, your hands clutching the sheets tightly as your hips begin to sway weakly against his caresses.

"Just say it, baby, and I'll fuck you. That's what you want, Peach, isn't it? Do you want my cock to fill up that needy cunt of yours?" Wooyoung purrs in between long, messy licks of your pussy, his tongue feeling like it is scalding hot as it swirls around your clit. To spur you on to the right answer, Woo slides two cold fingers inside you. He immediately presses them against your sweet spot, rubbing it mercilessly with his wet, icy fingertips.

You squeal as his fingers begin to fuck you roughly and quickly, stretching you in the most delightful way, and you belatedly realise that Woooo has not taken his rings off. The massive pieces of silver jewellery drag along your slippery, quivering walls, cooling your heated flesh each time Wooyoung slides his fingers inside of you until his broad palm is completely pressed against your wet, trembling cunt.

"Damn it, Peach, just tell me who the hell you belong to." Wooyoung growls in a low voice as he wraps your swollen clit with his sensual lips and sucking on it in the same rhythm as his fingers work their way into your hole. He is practically breaking you down, his name hanging on the tip of your tongue as you get closer and closer to your orgasm.

And then it stops. Wooyoung releases your throbbing clit and slowly pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you with a pitiful whimper as your cocky behaviour comes back to haunt you in the form of a ruined orgasm.

"No... Wooyoung, please let me cum." Your whimpers pitifully. Your whole body is twitching in the painful need for that sweet release.

"Oh, you finally remembered my name, huh, peach?" Wooyoung grins wickedly and reaches for another ice cube, only to slide it across your slit again, causing you to gasp and squeal loudly. Woo moves the rapidly melting ice cube to your clenching hole and pushes the half-melted cube into you, sending a violent shiver through your entire body. He has to press his palm against your stomach to hold you in place as he continues to slide the ice cube in and out of your pussy until it melts into a puddle in his hands. "So, I ask you one last time, my sweet Peach. Who do you belong to?" Wоо's voice is soft and hoarse, and you can't resist him any longer.

'You!' You cry out, just as Wooyoung pushes his fingers into you once more. "I am yours, Wooyoung."

'That's right, baby.' Woo smiles as he flexes his fingers inside you and strokes your G-spot with the pads of his fingers to pamper you for your obedience. 'Have you finally decided to behave like a good girl?"

'Yes, I have Daddy.' You whisper in a trembling voice. 'Now are you going to fuck me?"

Wooyoung chuckles, painfully slowly pulling his fingers, smeared in your slime, out of your hole, and crawling up your body, trapping you between his body and the silk sheets again. His eyes are dark and full of lust as he leans down to your face to kiss you lightly on your parted lips.

"Yes, Peaches, now Daddy's going to fuck you."

#ateez smut #kpop smut #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #atz smut #smut #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #ateez unholy hours #ateez fanfiction #ateez scenarios #ateez hard thoughts #ateez hard hours #jung wooyoung smut #jung wooyoung x reader

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kyokeiii · 15 days ago

Note

If Ur still taking writing requests could we get something with mirror sex ! Please and thank you !

♡𝅼⠀⠀reflection

contains ‎ smut. f!reader. soft dom!keigo. mirror sex. doggystyle. cunnilingus.

“look at me, honey...that’s it. attagirl.”

keigo takami has an arm wrapped around your bare waist, holding you steady on his lap, and his free hand is carefully cupping your jaw, turning your head until you lock eyes with him in the full-length mirror on the wall across from the bed you both share.

it gives you an unrestricted view of your whole body as he carefully rocks his hips up into you, your pussy clenching around his shaft and making him groan softly. his hand on your waist skims lower, pressing into your abdomen, tantalizingly stroking the skin under your navel and making your clit throb.

“mmph, kei’...”

“hmm?” his breath is warm against the side of your face, and smells faintly like cinnamon. amber eyes seem to glow from the dim shadows in the room. “feeling good, sweetie?” he doesn’t bother waiting for a response. he knows you far too well for that.

the muscles in his strong arms flex as he gently maneuvers your body as easily as he’d lift a doll. his palms are calloused, and faint white scars thread the flesh on the back of his hands, tendons popping as he tightens his grip.

he lifts your body with characteristic tenderness and pulls out, his cock slipping out of you with a filthy squelch. he hadn’t bothered with lube because he knows how wet you get for him, and your slick drips down his shaft, making his dick glisten. his tip catches on the rim of your hole before he sheathes himself inside again in one smooth thrust, moaning even louder than you do as he bottoms out. “christ, you’re tight, you know that?”

keigo’s always loud in bed, but he’s noisier today than usual, as if putting on a show for an invisible audience, his deep-throated groans and sharp, breathy grunts filling the room in time with each thrust. your head lolls back against his shoulder, and he takes the opportunity to let go of your face and grope your tits, squeezing and kneading them in his rough hands before rolling your nipples between your fingers.

“keep lookin’,” he reminds you, voice rough and strained. “want you to watch...want you to see me filling you up.”

you barely have to do any work, that’s how eager keigo is. even as you move against him, trying to bounce on his cock, he keeps a firm grip on you and tugs you back into each thrust, pressing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses into your throat until hickeys bloom over your skin.

his pace is unusually slow and languid, a heady change from the fast, eager way he most often fucks you. this is steady, sexy. keigo rocks in smooth figure-eights, pressing into your g-spot with every cant of his hips.

the dirty words he breathes into your ear prove that taking his time doesn’t come easy to the man who’s just a bit too fast. “that’s my girl, gonna give my baby whatever her kitty wants, ain’t i? gonna make you cum on this cock? yeah?”

he’s growing impatient, bucking up into you with more force, barely restraining himself. his hands wander over your body, pawing at your thighs, your waist, your belly. he digs the heel of his palm into your clit, and the noise you emit seems to crumble away the last of his resolve.

so quickly that you don’t even realize it’s happening, he pulls out and flips you over onto the mattress, and you instinctively catch yourself on your hands and knees. you barely have a chance to recover before he’s planting a hand on the small of your back and forcing your spine into an arch, grabbing your waist for leverage as he slides back inside and starts rutting into you hard.

your eyes roll back and your knees nearly give out—at this angle, he’s so deep you can almost feel him your gut, and his heavy balls smack against your clit with every snap of his hips. he’s pressing his chest nearly parallel to your back, growling into your ear as he fucks you, wings flared wide.

“that’s my baby,” he murmurs, “taking it like a fucking champ. such a good girl f’me.”

you choke on a whimper as his cockhead presses into your g-spot, making you clamp down around him. his blond locks are disheveled, his bangs falling over his forehead, and his hairy chest is damp with sweat. it looks good on him.

he slows down for a moment, turning his gaze from the mirror to your body underneath his. a finger delicately traces the length of your spine, over the bumps of your vertebrae, and he leans down to kiss your shoulder. the gentle press of his lips turns into a sharp bite as he shoves his way back into your cunt, sinking even deeper than before.

“k-keigo!” you can’t help but cry out his name. the bed creaks with the force of each thrust, rocking against the wall. taking pity on you, keigo slips a hand between your thighs, rubbing your clit.

“fuck,” he grunts, “i’m close, ’m so fuckin’ close—look at the mirror, baby, watch me cum inside you, yeah? watch me fill you up?” his breathing grows ragged and his words dissolve into urgent whines as he plows you into the mattress. he doesn’t let up on the pressure against your clit, the sensitive bud pressing into the meat of his hand, and your vision whites out as you cum just moments before he spills over inside of you.

his tight grip loosens, and you fall onto the mattress, still quivering from the force of your orgasm. keigo goes with you, hand squeezing the base of his cock to milk out every drop into your cunt. finally, you hear him let out a long breath and his face presses against the crook of your neck, breathing in the sweat beaded on your skin.

“shit, you felt amazing, darlin’. did so good.” he kisses the edge of your jaw, one hand cupping your breast. his fingers dance lower, rubbing the inside of your thigh. “all messy down here now. can i clean you up, honey?”

thinking of the comfort of a hot bath, you agree exhaustedly. “yes, please.”

it comes as a surprise when he gently eases you onto your back, your legs hanging over the edge of the bed, and slips off the mattress to crouch on the floor.

“keigo, wh—” you can feel his cum leaking out of you. his tongue drags up your thigh and licks at the spend oozing from your pussy, wet and hot on your oversensitive flesh.

you squeak, instinctively squirming away, but he holds your hips down, looking up at you—“gotta get you clean. look at the mirror, sweetie.”

your hands scrabble for his hair as his tongue slides inside of you, and you look up to your reflection, his golden head bowed between your legs. it’s an intoxicating sight, with his wings spread open and flapping ever so slightly every time you make a noise.

bushy brow knit in concentration, he laps his cum out of you like it’s a priceless delicacy, savoring every drop. he buries his nose in your folds and smells you, a long, unabashed inhale, and when you tug at his hair, he blows on your clit, breath warm and gentle, making you twitch and mewl. this makes him chuckle, low and deep in his chest.

“you’re so fuckin’ sexy, you know that?” his words are muffled, because his mouth is occupied, tongue licking into your hole. “eyes on the mirror, babe.”

you’re so oversensitive that you don’t last long. an expert flick of his tongue, dragging over your g-spot just right, and just the vision of the two of you in the mirror, and your back arches off the bed as you cry out his name. keigo pulls back, his lips shiny with your slick, and eases you through it, gushing praises as you come down to earth with bleary eyes.

“oh, just look at you. the most gorgeous thing on the planet, i swear, and all mine, my good girl. you did so good, sweetie. so good, i’m so proud of you. let’s get you washed up, okay? let me draw you a bath.”

in the weeks to come, keigo will often fuck you in front of that very same mirror, so he can have a perfect view of every inch of your body when he makes you cum on his cock, tongue, or fingers. something about the sight drives him crazy, turns him utterly feral for you, and there are often days in a row where you wake up sore and wince when you sit down.

you don’t mind, though—not when keigo is so good to you.

#‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ꒰ ‎ ‎ kyokei ‎ ‎ ‎ ﹒#‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ letters‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ◞ ‎#‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ indulgences ‎ ‎ ‎ ◞ ‎#mha #takami keigo #bnha hawks #mha hawks #hawks x reader #hawks x y/n #mha x reader #bnha #my hero academia #keigo smut #keigo takami smut #hawks smut #hawks x you #keigo x reader #keigo takami

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calypsocolada · 10 months ago

Text

someone else bought you flowers... ft. nanami, gojo, toji, hakari, takuma, & higuruma

authors note: hi. this is just a lil something I wrote while on break at work. my birthday was last week and I wanted to write a lil something but got too busy. until now! pls enjoy. bye. ps: probably gonna write a second part for some of the other boys...

cw: suggestive, slight jealousy, fem reader

wc: 2.2k

click here for my masterlist

“Baby?” You hear Nanami’s voice from the kitchen, you lean back in your chair, spying down the hallway. When you spot him a smile spreads over your face.

“Hi honey, you’re home early.” You say, pushing to your feet as you make your way towards him. He’s standing near the island in the middle of the kitchen, hand outstretched towards the bouquet of flowers you’d set there. “Thank you for the flowers by the way… what was the occasion?” You ask, outstretching your arms to give him a hug. Nanami pulls you into him, kissing the top of your head.

“I didn’t send you these cheap flowers, honey.” He intones against the top of your head. You pull back, slightly surprised.

“Hmm?”

“I know your favorite flowers. Those are practically weeds.” You laugh softly at his words, he’s still holding you gently. He’s serious as he looks at the bundle of flowers with scrutiny.

“So I have a secret admirer?” You ask as Nanami’s gaze sharpened.

“It seems. But they don’t know you very well. Pity.”

“You’re a flower snob.” You tease as Nanami tightens his hold around your hips.

“I just know my girl.” He kisses your cheek first, then your jaw and neck, he trails up to your lips, pausing before they meet. “And my girl deserves only the best quality flowers.” You scoff out a laugh and he shuts you up with a kiss.

You flicked the card from the flowers, your coworkers gushing beside you as you blushed embarrassed.

“Wow… he really went all out.” Your coworker beamed, leaning to smell the bouquet. You turned in your chair, popping open the card.

You shine through my darkest days... Signed, your future.

The card was sappy but the flowers were a nice thought. Satoru liked to embarrass you sometimes and even though you weren’t really a flower kind of girl you still appreciated him thinking of you. The elevator to your floor dinged and your coworker giggled, nudging you.

“Here’s Mr. Romantic.” She teased as you turned and spotted him. He smirked at you, giving you a little wave. You gathered up your stuff as he met you halfway, taking your purse and lunch bag. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as you two walked to the elevator.

“Someone got you flowers?” He asked as you blushed, rolling your eyes.

“Uh huh, someone…” you teased back. “My future apparently.” You said as you two stepped onto the elevator.

“Your future?” Gojo echoed.

“Who apparently shines through your darkest days?” You and Satoru met eyes before he reached out and plucked the card from the flowers. He looked over it for a second.

“So my girl had a secret admirer?” He says, pocketing the card.

“Oh? They’re not from you?”

“I know you don’t like flowers, baby.” He says as the door slides open and you two walk out. He was right, you were more of a sweets person. “You know for someone who’s your future they don’t know you very well.” He teases as you laugh. He holds out his hand for the flowers as you hand them off. He presents them to an older lady walking by who blushes and thanks him.

“You pawned off my pretty flowers.” You teased as he took your hand.

“Thanks because you need arm space for all the shit I’m about to buy you.” He winks, pressing a kiss to your cheek, pulling you towards the city.

You huffed coming through the door, arms full of at least fifty roses. You struggled until an arm jutted out, pushing your front door open for you.

“You’re home early, baby.” Toji’s voice intoned, deep and smooth from just waking up.

“There was a mix up with the shifts at work so I got to leave.” You say, watching Toji’s eyes stick to the roses in your arms. “This was sweet of you by the way. I didn’t get to read the card yet.”

“Don’t bother.” He said, eyes sharpening. “I didn’t send these.”

“Oh?” You hum, setting the bundles of roses on the table as Toji plucks out the card, tearing it open. He reads it over and hikes up a brow.

“This is some corny shit, baby.” He laughs, handing over the card for you to read.

Roses are red, violets are blue, the best part of my day is you.

You audibly laughed.

“Yeah if I had read the card I would’ve known you didn’t send these.”

“These are expensive,” Toji says, plucking one of the petals from a rose. “Looks like some rich bastard has his eye on my girl.” There’s a glint in his eyes that had your stomach bottoming out.

“How inconvenient.” You tease as Toji pushes the roses right off the table into the trash. Your lips part in surprise.

“We can’t just-“ he’s swift with his movements, pulling you into him, large hands on your waist as he turns you to face him, bodies pushed together.

“I’ll kill him.”

“It’s just roses.” You smirk as he sharpens his eyes.

“You want some roses, I'll buy you thousands, not some schmuck from work.”

“Toji… are you jealous?”

“Hush.” He whispers against your lips before kissing them.

“Morning, you sleep well?” You push inside the front door, struggling between the bags and the flowers. Hakari glances up from his phone and sets it down on the coffee table. It was evident from the lingering scent of coffee and his disheveled appearance that he had just gotten up.

"Yeah, like a corpse," he replies, helping you with some of the bags. "What's with the flowers?"

“Oh?” You glance at the flowers. “I thought you sent them to me?”Hakari raised an eyebrow momentarily, taking a close look at the bouquet.

"Not from me, babe. You sure they ain't from some secret admirer?" He teases with a lighthearted smirk, plucking one of the flowers from the bunch and twirling it idly in his free hand.

“Well if they aren’t from you then they are from someone else.” You respond, walking towards the kitchen. Hakari follows closely behind you, setting the bags down on the countertop. He leans against the wall with his arms crossed, a curious smirk on his face as he watches you set up the flowers in a vase.

"So, who do you think sent 'em? Got any ideas?"

You pluck out the card, flashing it to him.

“I haven’t read it yet.”

Hakari's smirk widens in anticipation as he looks at the card, intrigued. He lets out an exaggerated scoff, pretending to be unbothered.

"Well, don't just stand there. Read it already. See who's been sending you flowers like a sap." You pull it open, reading the card.

“Love is the flower you’ve got to let grow, from your secret admirer.” You recite. Hakari lets out a genuine chuckle at the message, a hint of mischief glimmering in his eyes.

"That's pretty sappy, gotta hand it to 'em. Secret admirer, huh? Who do you think it could be?" He crosses his arms, feigning nonchalance, as he waits for your response.

“You don’t seem to be bothered with someone sending your girlfriend flowers?” You tease, tossing the card on the table. Hakari swipes it up, reading it again. Hakari chuckles once more, a smirk playing on his lips. He steps closer, closing the distance between the two of you.

"Nah, not really. I can't blame 'em for having good taste. And besides, I trust you." He reaches out, gently pulling you in by your hips, his smirk turning into a sly grin.

"But you still didn’t answer my question. Got any ideas who sent 'em?"

“I have no idea who it could be.” You tease, laughing softly “I have to say though, they did get my favorite flower. That’s nice attention to detail.” Hakari raises an eyebrow.

"Oh really? Your favorite flower, huh? Must’ve gotten lucky." He steps a little closer, his hands still on your hips as he looks down at you, a playful smirk on his face. He leans in, speaking in a low, flirty tone. "I wonder, do I match up to this secret admirer?"

“Hmm… do you? When’s the last time you got me flowers?” You tease, his grip tightens just slightly. Hakari lets out a mock sigh of feigned annoyance, rolling his eyes jokingly.

"Alright, you caught me there. I can't remember the last time I got you flowers. But that ain’t the only way I can get your attention, you know.”He steps even closer, his hands slowly wandering lower as he gently pulls you flush against his body. His eyes locked on yours in a playful glance.

Takuma frowned at the sight of flowers in a vase on the counter. He cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. He walked towards the bathroom, poking his head in where you were taking a shower.

“Hey, baby?”

“Yeah?” You called out from the shower.

“Someone got you flowers?” He asked as you turned off the water and blindly stuck your hand out for a towel. Takuma pushed further into the bathroom, handing you a towel. He waited a moment as you stepped out, wrapped yourself in a towel and wrung out your hair. Takuma leaned on the doorway, a pout on his face as you glanced over at him. You took in his pout and furrowed your brows.

“A coworker got them for me...Not sure who though.” You said, reaching out and gently grabbing the hem of his shirt.

“It’s not Chad is it?” He asks as you pull him to you.

“It’s not Brad, and getting his name wrong won’t make him go away, ya know?” You tease as he smirks.

“Oops.” Takuma shrugs. “So a secret admirer?”

“Uh huh. Did you read the card?” You ask as Takuma idly twists a strand of your hair with his index finger. He shakes his head. “Well apparently they like that I read while eating my lunch, they say it makes me look smart.” You fill him in as Takuma narrows his eyes.

“You eat alone?”

“Yeah,” you shrug. “I like to eat in the courtyard.”

“I’ll have lunch with you from now on.” He says as a smile fits to your lips at his obvious jealousy. “I don’t want some bozo thinking he can just write love poems and watch you from afar.”

“Baby, are you jealous?” You tease.

“Yes.” He says without hesitation making you giggle as you run a hand through his hair, tucking it out of his face. He leans into your touch. “You do know how hot you are right?” He asks, making you laugh.

“Calm down, I brought the flowers home for my mom, she likes daisies. And I’d love lunch with you everyday, even if it’s so you can puff out your chest.”

“No... no puffing of chests is happening. I’m just going to have lunch with my insanely hot girlfriend everyday for the rest of time.” He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You had fallen asleep on the couch, waiting for Hiromi to get home. When he finally arrived late, he quietly stepped in through the front door, not wanting to wake you as you slept on the couch. There was an unfamiliar bouquet of flowers on the table by the couch that he glanced at before setting his things down and pulling off his jacket, loosening his tie. You stir awake on the couch, slowly sitting up as you yawn and stretch.

“You’re home late.” You remarked as he made his way over to you, running a hand through his hair before he’s pulled down next to you. He chuckles warmly as you sidle up beside him, placing your head on his chest as he wraps an arm around you.

“Did I wake you, love?”

“No… it’s alright.” You smile sleepily as he places a kiss on the top of your head.

“Waiting up for me?”

“Always.” You answer fondly. A small hum left his lips as he started to shower you with kisses, trailing down to your jaw and down to your neck. He held you close, grip tightening a bit.

"You didn't have to, I told you to go to bed even if I came home late"

“Well I wanted to thank you for the flowers. What was the occasion?”

“Flowers? I didn’t send them love.” Hiromi points out, still pressing absentminded kisses to your jaw and neck. It was hard to focus on his words. “I’ll toss' em for you.” He intones, pulling you into his lap.

“You’re not jealous are you?” You ask heatedly against his lips.

“They’re cheap, baby, they'll be dead by the morning.” He states, pulling you closer by the hips. “And rightfully so.”

“So you are jealous.” You tease feeling his grip tighten.

“And if I was?” He asks, voice low and warm, a slightly teasing tone to his voice. You laugh as he peppers more kisses.

“I’d say it looks good on you.”

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