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#got the ingredients and only now is the kitchen clean and I can start
companion-showdown · 1 year
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not sure what time the new round will be out
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ladadiida · 8 months
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𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
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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
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"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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taglist part 1 @angel-luv3r @appalost @chexmixtrys @nimtano @sparklyphantom @natalieisfreeziing @reallysparklychaos @maydaylovex @johnnysactualgf @mochamei @kisumisumi @ttokyocat @mypurplewinee @rosaliinnn @nonniecannie @court-jester-stuff @detectivelucy07 @megumiif @untitledandrandom @erin-the-king @fangeekkk @nikolaevna-art @candesstuff @chaoticevilbakugo
8K notes · View notes
allywthsr · 6 months
Text
BAKING COOKIES | (l.norris)
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summary: you and Lando bake some cookies
wordcount: 1.4k words
pairing: landonorris x fem!reader
warnings: none!
notes: this is my favorite cookie recipe, try it out!! And the picture on the right is my pictures, look at how stunning it is🥹. Like always, comment your thoughts!!
advent calendar
”Okay Lando, are you ready?“
”They’re gonna burn.“
”No, they’re not!“
”I‘m in the kitchen, of course, they’ll burn.“
”I‘m watching them, and they won’t.“
You tied your apron before you helped Lando with his. It became a tradition to bake cookies together, and this year was no different.
”Let’s get the ingredients out on the kitchen island, two hundred and fifty grams of butter, five hundred grams of flour, two-hundred and fifty grams of sugar, six egg yolks, and a pinch of salt.“
With every ingredient you listed, Lando opened different cupboards and the fridge to get all the things on the counter, placing various containers with different contents. You recently got more Pinterest-looking like containers and you loved them, the square-shaped boxes had big white stickers on them with different foods, that were written in cursive. Thankfully, due to your spacious kitchen, you had enough space to both move around and do your thing.
”As always, baby, can you sift the flour on the surface?“
He nodded and got the sieve out of the cupboard, weighed five-hundred grams of flour in a bowl, and let the flour fall through the tiny holes, creating a hill of fine flour. Next, he added the two-hundred and fifty grams of sugar on top of it, and because you two made this recipe every year, he automatically squeezed a dent in the middle of the hill with his long and slick fingers. While he was doing that, you got the six eggs out of the carton and separated the egg yolk from the egg white into a bowl, a few drops of egg were spilled on the surface, but you could clean that later. The egg yolks were poured into the dent of the flour and Lando got the two-hundred and fifty grams of butter out of its package and cut it into small pieces which he placed around and on the rest of the flour. Last but not least, you added a pinch of salt and now began the more or less fun part.
Kneading.
It was always messy, took way too much time, and both of you wanted the other one to do it. Every year you played a round of rock-paper-scissors and mostly Lando won, so you had to do the work.
”Who‘s going to knead this year?“
”Rock-paper-scissors, but only one round?“
You nodded and held your hand out. With three swinging movements and both of you saying Rock-paper-scissors out loud, Lando and you held out a scissor, so you had to play another round. Repeating what you just did, you went for the rock but Lando chose paper, which made you the loser of the game.
That meant, kneading.
So you got to work and removed everything that could catch flour on it, from your arm.
With skilled movements, you pushed all the ingredients together and started to knead, as always the texture felt weird and funny. Lando was laughing at the weird faces you pulled, the egg was cold, the butter soft and the little grains from the sugar were not mixing with the flour, it was a mess. You tried to knead as fast as you could to get over with it, but it felt like a lifetime, now Lando was filming you with his phone, recording a video to send to the Norris and Y/L/N family group chat. Almost everyone laughed at your expressions that clearly showed your discomfort with the mixture that was in between your fingers, only the mothers were giving you advice on how to get the perfect consistency of the dough. You had to have warm hands, so the ingredients would mix faster, but now it was too late, your hands were sticky with the egg and flour and you couldn’t warm them up.
Eventually, Lando put his phone down and hugged you from behind, watching your hands from over your shoulder, leaving slight kisses on your shoulder and neck.
”I love you, baby.“
”I love you too, Lan.“
He was a clingy boy when it came to Christmas. Always hugging you, always kissing you, and he loved to watch Christmas movies and cuddle. Maybe the Christmas spirit always gets to him.
When the dough slowly started to form, you were happy. At least you were beginning to see some progress, within ten minutes it became a hard dough, you rolled it into a ball and wrapped it in cling foil, now it had to rest in the fridge for one hour. During the hour you cleaned the mess that you two created and got out the cookie cutters, the rolling pin, and more flour as well as preparing the baking trays, pre-heating the oven to two hundred degrees Celsius. Recently you bought some new cookie cutters and you were in love, little reindeers, Santa’s, elf’s, and the list goes on and on.
Lando was singing Christmas songs and running around the kitchen while you tried to set everything up, every now and then he would hug you and spin you around the kitchen, trying to get you to dance with him.
Before you knew it, your phone was beeping, signaling the hour was over and the dough was ready. You divided the dough into multiple sections and began to roll the first piece into a small layer, about two centimeters thick, now Lando took a cookie cutter, and put it in the flour to cover the edges with it, so the dough wouldn’t stick to it and pressed the Santa into the yellow mixture. He put the Santa on a baking tray that you covered with baking paper, with a proud grin.
”Look, Y/N! It’s our first cookie this year.“
You stroked his cheek and looked for the next cutter to create a cookie. A snowman caught your eye, you covered it in flour and pressed it in the dough, and carefully you took the cookie on the baking paper. Both of you repeated that step multiple times until the first tray was filled with little shapes. You put it in the oven for about ten minutes and slowly the kitchen started to smell like a Christmas bakery. Lando was being the funny one he is and tried to get flour in your face, eventually, your nose was white, your left cheek had traces of white and your forehead had a white thumb on it after Lando said ’Simba‘ while crackling. He is the most unserious twenty-four-year-old there is.
Little Christmas trees, reindeers, stars, bells, etc. made their way on the baking trays that you put into the oven. Every ten minutes freshly baked cookies made their way on a cooling grid, or in someone’s mouth, until the last batch was done and now it was time to wait for them to cool down. In the meantime, you cleaned up again and this time you prepared for the decorating progress, melted white and dark chocolates were placed on the kitchen table, next to sprinkles and colorful royal icing you found in the store. Lando wasn’t a big help at all, he was clinging onto you and hugging you from behind, you would give him something to put on the table and he’d be back in no time, cuddling. It was cute tho, you loved that he showed how he truly is, a cuddling teddy bear who loves to eat sweets and cookies, especially Christmas cookies.
After a Christmas sing-off, the cookies were cold enough to be decorated. Lando immediately got to work and so did you, snowmen were painted white with brown chocolate spots to recreate the face, Christmas trees got green royal icing all over them, and other cookies just got a dip in the chocolate and sprinkles. It was a mess but it was a lot of fun, every now and then Lando would giggle and show you what he did, a lot of cookies got fours all over them, claiming it was enough decoration.
When both of you were finished and the place was cleaned up, Lando sat on the couch, munching on the cookies and you were sure you had to bake new ones next week.
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sailortongue · 8 months
Text
"Baking with my boyfriend!"
pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
wc: 1.6k
summary: you run a popular baking vlog, and after a Q&A video where you said your boyfriend helped you eat all the delicious things you baked, the people demanded a bf reveal
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“Hi guys!” You waved at the camera enthusiastically. “In honor of the upcoming fall season, today I’m going to be showing you how to bake pumpkin bread!” You were practically sunshine incarnate when you were filming for your viewers, but today was special and you were even more cheery than usual.
The last video you did was a Q&A and apparently many viewers were very curious about what you do with all the baked goods you make because surely you don't eat all of that yourself. You’d laughed, pleased to tell them that you share everything with your lovely boyfriend, and, if you made a particularly large batch of something, then he’d take them to work for his coworkers.
You hadn’t thought much of it, but when you read through the comments it was flooded with requests for a boyfriend reveal. You’d immediately called Spencer into the living room, excitedly asking him if he’d film a video with you. How could he possibly say no to you when you were looking at him with those pleading eyes? He caved embarrassingly quickly, but frankly he’d do anything if it meant that beautiful smile would continue to be directed at him.
And so here you were, standing in your kitchen with Spencer and getting the ingredients and supplies assembled. Now, as much as you loved him, there was a reason he’d never been in one of your videos before: that man was a klutz in the kitchen. For all his intelligence, he couldn't bake a cake to save his life.
Spencer, bless his heart, had neglected to place the eggs in a bowl and accidentally knocked one off the counter, sending it to splat onto the floor. You glanced at the cracked egg slowly seeping across the floor and then back up to Spencer, a grin teasing the edge of your lips. He did the same as you, and as you both made eye contact the tension broke, both of you bursting into laughter.
“I’ll clean it up,” he said sheepishly. “And get another egg.”
You chuckled and continued with your instructions. “Once Spence gets that taken care of, then we’ll have everything we need to start. As usual, we’re going to preheat the oven while we prepare everything. This particular recipe says 325℉ but if any of you would like to bake this at home, there is a note at the bottom of the recipe. It says that if you're using a one pound loaf pan instead of a 9x5, then it may come out underbaked, and if you feel like you need to add more time to it then you should bake at 350℉ instead.”
You felt Spencer’s presence return to your side, this time placing the eggs in a bowl to prevent any more mishaps. He bent down and kissed the top of your head as his way of apologizing. You reciprocated the action and got on your tippy toes to kiss his chin since it was the closest you could get.
Continuing with the recipe, you put Spencer in charge of the streusel topping since it was the most straight forward. You were confident that even with his lacking baking skills he’d be able to do it. You were promptly proven wrong.
“Wow, I’m impressed,” you said.
“Really?” he asked excitedly, ever eager to please you.
“Very. I think you got more flour on the counter than in the bowl.”
He threw his head back and groaned. “Oh come on, it's not that bad.”
“Whatever you say, hun. Can you put it in the fridge?”
He nodded, and you turned your attention back to the camera. “And now for the star of the show we’re going to start on the batter!” As you spoke animatedly and explained every step of the process, Spencer was watching you with rapt attention, a small smile fixed on his face.
Occasionally you’d ask him to measure out some of the ingredients and put them in. You’d had to correct him that the brown sugar had to be packed in, but other than that there was no way he could mess up. The only notable thing that happened was his insistence on tasting the vanilla extract. How could something that smelled so good taste so bad? He was going to learn the hard way and there was nothing you could do to spare the stubborn man. You had practically doubled over with laughter when his expression instantly changed to one of profound disgust. He rushed to the kitchen sink, trying in vain to spit out the vile liquid.
He was positively green when he looked back over at you. “Why would you let me do that?”
Taking pity on him, you poured him a glass of water and handed it to him. “Here, swish.”
He took it gratefully and did as you said. “Thank you. Lesson learned. Vanilla extract is a liar.”
“Would stirring make it better?” you asked, offering the whisk to him.
“No, but licking the batter might.”
You shrugged, “Your loss.”
With your attention back on the camera, Spencer took the opportunity to stand behind you, placing his hands on your hips and watching you mix the dry ingredients into the wet ones from over your shoulder. He took advantage of the close proximity and placed a tender kiss on your temple. You were practically melting on the spot at how domestic everything felt.
“Ok, so with that all mixed up the next thing we have to do is pour it into a greased loaf pan and then sprinkle the streusel on top.” You turned your face to the side, “Hey, hun, can you get the streusel from the fridge?” He hummed in affirmation, leaving you to pour the batter, intentionally leaving a bit more than you usually would to make up for Spencer’s unfortunate experience with the vanilla.
He resumed his position at the counter, standing next to you this time. He was eyeing the bowl with the leftover batter, being very obvious about what he wanted. You giggled. “Trade?” Without a word, he snatched the bowl and handed you the cold one with the topping. As you were sprinkling it onto the top, Spencer was busying himself with licking the spatula.
“Perfect!” you exclaimed when you were done. “Now all that’s left is to put it in the oven for an hour and twenty minutes.” After closing the oven door, you turned to see Spencer scraping more of the batter from the bowl and onto the spatula. You also noticed that some of it was smeared around the corners of his lips. You huffed a breath out through your nose, finding him utterly adorable. You grabbed a rag from the drawer and ran it under the faucet. You walked over to Spencer and he spoke before you could do anything. “If the batter is anything to go by, then the bread will be delicious.”
“Of course it will. I think it'll be one of the best, just because you helped me with it.” He beamed at you. “That was cheesy, but cute.”
“C’mere,” you said, placing your hand on his cheek and adjusting his face so he’d look straight at you. You brought up the hand with the wet rag, wiping his face. He laughed and took the rag from you, using it to clean the stickiness from his hands as well.
Now that there was nothing to do but wait for the pumpkin bread to finish baking, you stopped recording and set about cleaning the mess you two had made.
With both of you working together, the kitchen was pristine in no time. You decided you’d go ahead and start editing the footage you already had, and by the time you had it looking as aesthetic as always, the oven timer went off. You gasped excitedly, hopping off the couch where you were sitting next to Spencer. You quickly slipped on a pair of oven mitts and took it out to cool.
Thirty minutes later and you began recording again. “I wish y’all could smell my kitchen right now,” you started. “Smells so good. Like cinnamon and pumpkin goodness.”
You cut two slices of the loaf, one for each of you. Spencer took a bite before you did and groaned. “It's so good,” he said.
“Better than the batter?” you teased.
“Definitely.”
You took your own bite and reacted just as he had. It really was tasty. “10/10. You guys should definitely make this at home! It’s perfectly moist and pumpkin-y and the streusel topping adds a lot of texture. I hope you all enjoyed this video and I’ll see you next time! Bye!” You waved at the camera before stopping the footage.
There wasn’t much editing that needed to be done since the second take was just a review of the dessert, so you had the video uploaded shortly after, titling it "Baking with my boyfriend!"
You were both splitting a second slice when you started getting notifications on the video. Spencer placed the plate down on the coffee table and got comfy next to you, putting his arm around you and pulling you close. You leaned into his side and opened the app to read the incoming comments.
“#relationshipgoals”
“You two are so cute!”
“Does he have a twin brother? 👀”
“Can we reply?” asked Spencer. You nodded and handed him your phone.
“Does he have a twin brother? 👀”
“Sorry, @user but no, I don’t.”
“Homeboy is so down bad”
“According to Yn, that means I’m infatuated with her. Yes, I am.”
“Omg his HANDS”
“Thank you? I guess?”
You laughed at his reply to the comment about his hands.
“Did yall see the way they look at each other? 🥺”
“Lmao see if he’ll try cacao powder”
Spencer looked at you after reading the cacao powder comment. “Is cacao powder also a liar?”
You shook your head. “Nope. It tastes just like chocolate.”
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alastor-simp · 8 months
Text
Lilia Vanrouge Catches Reader Cosplaying As Them
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"Do Do Dodo~" Lilia was inside the Diasomnia kitchen, preparing another one of his "meals" for his adopted sons and Malleus. "Lets see, a dash of paprika, a drop of soy sauce, and a few handfuls of chopped cherries." Lilia was floating around gathering all of the ingredients, until he heard the sound of the door opening, and came to see Silver entering the kitchen, looking confused. "Oyaji-dono? What are you doing here? Weren't you just at Ramshackle?" Silver had come closer to Lilia, but he still had a confused look on his face as he was trying to figure out how Lilia was in two different locations. "Hm? I was here preparing dinner the whole time." Lilia had turned towards Silver, but he was still floating around the kitchen, gathering more ingredients from the cabinets and fridge. "How strange. I was passing by Ramshackle and I happened to spot you in one of the windows.", Silver placed his hand on his head, trying to recall what he saw. "Kufufu, Silver. You must have dreamt it." Lilia chuckled as he stared back at Silver with an amused expression, finding it adorable that Silver was envisioning him in his dreams. Lilia went back to preparing the "meal", but noticed that there was on ingredient missing, "Oh dear, it seems we are out of lemon juice. Seems I will have to visit Sam's shop. Silver, can you watch over the dish while I go to the store." Silver nodded his head and came closer to the dish on the counter, letting Lilia know that he would watch over it." Lilia thanked Silver, then left the kitchen, as he began heading over to Sam's. Silver waited until he knew Lilia was gone, and proceeded to toss the concoction in the trash. He then started to clean up the counter to prepare making some mushroom risotto for dinner.
On the route towards Sam's, Lilia had noticed Malleus walking down the same path, most likely heading back to Diasomnia after his evening stroll. "Ahh Malleus. Coming back from your stroll I see." Lilia smiled, as he walked closer to Malleus. Malleus having spotted Lilia, looking slightly shocked to see Lilia. "Lilia? How odd. I had thought you were at Ramshackle." Lilia was now surprised, as he had not only been told by Silver that he was at Ramshackle, but now Malleus. Lilia explained to Malleus that he was preparing dinner and was told by Silver that he had seen him at Ramshackle, but assumed Silver had only dreamed about it. "That is strange. Do you suspect someone is pretending to be you to cause mischief?" Malleus said as he placed his hand on his face, tilting his head in thought. Lilia now decided that he should check out Ramshackle and see if he could find this person pretending to be him. He told Malleus that he would handle it and not to worry so much. He bid Malleus a good night and proceeded to head towards his new destination.
Lilia had arrived at Ramshackle, scanning his eyes around to see if he could spot his clone, but did not see anyone around. "Hmm. Maybe the prefect has seen them. I'll go and ask them." Lilia made his way to the door and knocked, but got no response. He knocked again, but realized that the door was still open and not fully closed. Entering through the door, he walked down the hallway and peeked inside the rooms, seeing if he could spot the prefect. Lilia stopped for a second as he was able to hear voices coming from the bedroom, most likely Grim and the prefect talking to each other.
"Nyah! Of all of the people you could dress up as, you chose the bat guy, and NOT THE GREAT GRIM!?", Grim was bouncing up and down on the ground in anger. You were inside your room, having finished dressing up, but you did not dress up for bed, You were wearing an outfit that resembled Lilia vice dorm leader outfit. Along with the uniform, you had also put on some fangs and a black wig with pink highlights. Giggling, you bent down and pet Grim's head, apologizing to him, but also saying finding a cat costume to resemble him would be much harder to put together and more expensive. Grim huffed yet slowly started to purr as you kept petting his head. Grim was still annoyed, but he said nothing as he jumped up to the bed and curled into a ball, getting comfortable for his nap . Walking towards the mirror, you examined how you looked, making sure that everything was in its place. You had a thing for cosplaying, and ever since coming to this world, you were amazed by how decorative and beautiful the outfits were at NRC, especially the dorm + vice leaders uniforms. You didn;t choose Lilia specifically, but you decided that out of all of the outfits, his seemed like the most easy to put together, also it was very beautifully designed. As you continued to look at yourself in the mirror, you were able to see a reflection from behind you in the mirror, Alarmed, you turned in shocked, wondering who it was, only to realize that it was none other then Lilia himself. Both you and Lilia were having a stare off as you both said nothing while you continued to look at each other.
"Kufufu, well well" "IM SORRY!" You didn't catch what Lilia said, as you apologized profusely, while running towards the bathroom, hiding yourself from him. Lilia howled with laughter, finding your reaction adorable. Grim hadn't even registered that Lilia was in the room as he was already knocked out on the bed. Lilia made his way over to the door, knocking as he called out your name, telling you to come out. "Y/nnnnn~ Come on out.", Lilia sang your name out playfully, as he continued to knock on the door. After a few moments, you called out from the other side saying okay and that you were coming out. You left the bathroom, and came face to face with Lilia. but you casted your eyes down, feeling super embarrassed that you were caught by the person you were cosplaying as. Twiddling your fingers, you looked up at Lilia, who was still smiling at you. "A-are you mad?" Giggling, Lilia shook his head no, continuing to stare at you with a happy expression. "I'm not mad, but I would like to know why you are dressed as me, do you find me that cute that you couldn’t resist dressing up as me" Lilia said, placing his hands on your wig, playing with the strands.
Feeling shy and face as red as a tomato, you explained to Lilia that you were into cosplay and told the whole story about how you decided to cosplay as him. Your intentions were innocent and you felt sorry if you caused problems for him. Grabbing the wig from your head, you started to take it off, however, Lilia stopped you from doing that. “Oh no you don’t. Put that wig back on.” Lilia said as he slid the wig back on your head. “You went through all the trouble to dress up like me, so there is no need to take it off now.” Lilia then started to squish your cheeks playfully, as he looked at you with loving eyes.
“Hehe, I swear you are the most interesting human I have ever met. I have traveled all over and come across many humans in my lifetime, and out of all of the humans I have met, you stand out the most. For as long as I live, I will never grow tired of you and your precious antics.” Lilia smile widely, revealing his fangs, while you were feeling like putty under his gaze, while he continued to squish your cheeks. After finally finding the strength to speak, you asked Lilia if he would like to take a photo/selfie of the both of you, as a way to remember this moment and also shocked the others with if they were to see it on Magicam. Chuckling, Lilia agreed and floated behind you, wrapping his arms around you in a back hug. Taking your phone out, the both of you smiled, saying "Cheese" and titling the pic #BatCuties🦇.
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beomboomboom · 2 months
Text
Recipe for disaster
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genre: fluff, established relationship
pairing: Soonyoung x reader
summary: You should've known better than to leave Soonyoung alone in the kitchen to make some pancakes. After all, everyone knows that Soonyoung + kitchen makes a recipe for disaster
warnings: a little bit of a cooking fire
note: This fic has genuinely made me laugh so much, and I hope it'll make you laugh too. Enjoy reading <33
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Soonyoung is good at many things, but cooking is definitely not on that list.
In fact, you've learned (the hard way) that if you leave him alone in a kitchen, there's a 50 percent chance something will end up on fire (most of the time it's food, but you swear one day it's going to be your house).
So, when you woke to the sound of clattering coming from the kitchen paired with the empty space next to you on the bed, it was easy to put two and two together.
Hurriedly shuffling out of bed, you make your way to the kitchen where you're met with the sight of a singing Soonyoung clad in your tiger-print apron that he gifted you for Christmas, as he gets out a big bowl from the cabinet.
"Love, what are you doing?" you ask with a tense smile, interrupting your boyfriends' cooking and singing session.
"I'm cooking breakfast for you! Pancakes!" Soonyoung exclaims with a smile. "Surprise!"
You feel your heart melt when you hear Soonyoung's loving intentions, but that fondness quickly turns into fear when you see him beginning to measure the ingredients.
Or to be honest, It shouldn't even count as measuring, it was more like eyeballing.
Eyeballing, but he wasn't really using his eyes.
You watch in horror as he attempts to pour a little bit of salt from the bag into the bowl, but ends up tilting the salt bag a bit too much, causing a huge amount of salt to end up being poured instead.
"Oops." Soonyoung says with a sheepish smile. "It's okay though, I'll just add more of the other ingredients so it'll cancel the salt out." Soonyoung says with a confident smile, assuring you everything is fine.
"You can just take out some of the salt-" you begin to suggest before becoming speechless at the sight of Soonyoung pouring half a bag of flour into the bowl, then squinting and pouring a bit more for good measure.
"Soonyoun-"
"Wait this breakfast needs to be a surprise," Soonyoung interrupts you at the realization as he starts to gently push you out of the kitchen.
"I think I could help you out a little-" you start to protest.
But your boyfriend quickly pushes you back into your room and assures you everything will be alright. "Rest a little more, I'll tell you when things are ready." He says while tucking you back into your bed. "And don't worry, I got this all under control. Nothing will go wrong."
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It only took 15 minutes for things to go wrong.
"AHHHH—FIRE!!!"
You jolt up from the bed the second you hear Soonyoung's hysterical scream from the kitchen.
"THERES A FIRE! HOW DO YOU MAKE IT GO AWAY."
Quickly jumping to your feet, you hurriedly make your way to the kitchen. When you reach the kitchen you're met with the sight of a panicked Soonyoung as he frantically tries to fan out the smoke that's coming from the stovetop.
"I was going to the bathroom but then I forgot the stove was still on so I—AHH" Soonyoung begins to explain before yelping at the sight of another bright orange flame appearing.
"No, don't fan the flames you're making it worse," you say with a groan as you quickly run to the sink to wet a cloth and throw it over the flames.
As you and Soonyoung watch the flames slowly subside, you both let out a sigh of relief. Coughing because of all the smoke, you slowly stand up and begin to clean up the mess.
"I'm sorry. I was just trying to make you a nice breakfast and now it's all ruined—" Soonyoung says, the disappointment evident on his face.
"It's okay, you tried your best. Let me help you cook next time though," you say with a reassuring smile as you give Soonyoung a small pat on the shoulder. "How about we order some carry out for breakfast instead?"
"Okay! Let me get my phone," Soonyoung says with an excited smile as he gives you a small peck on your smoke-covered cheeks and runs to his room in search of his phone.
You let out a small laugh before shaking your head. Needless to say, you wouldn't be letting Soonyoung anywhere close to the kitchen anytime soon.
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ohworm-writes · 5 months
Text
「✰」 ━━ SECRET SANTA
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PAIRING John Price x fem!reader (?) x Simon "Ghost" Riley
RATING R - Restricted [Content warnings: 18+ mdni, personalized fic (reader name provided and utilitzed), f!sub!reader, dom!Price, dom!Ghost, polyship, polyamorous relationship dynamics, the icing is supposed to look like cum... I don't know what else to tell you, minimal cursing, nipple play, brief fingering]
SYNOPSIS My submission for @bunnyreaper's organized secret santa event for @bookobsessedram. I do genuinely hope that you enjoy it, Aqua - I was super excited to get you, and it was a challenge to keep my mouth shut throughout the entirety of this event because I was so excited. Hope you enjoy!
WORD COUNT 2.3k
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The icing packet feels cool in your hands, both held steady as you carefully squeeze it, applying just enough pressure that a steady stream of white pushes out. The vanilla icing drags carefully along the surface of the shortbread cookie, the line you’re focused on making as straight as it can be, the task more difficult than it looks.
Your teeth gently bite down onto your tongue as it protrudes from your mouth, eyes narrowed into a concentrated glare, focused solely on the task at hand - icing the cookies you had brought out of the oven a little over fifteen minutes ago, give or take. The process takes a considerable amount of patience and focus, both of which you have an abundance of.
The same can’t exactly be said for your boyfriends.
“C’mon, Em, leave the rest for the mornin’.” Simon huffs out, his arms crossed tightly over his chest and his head cocked to the side, lifted barely an inch above his shoulder as he watches you from his place behind you leaned against the kitchen countertop beside the sink. His voice is rough, gravely, a twang of lighthearted, faux  annoyance present and he urges you to give it a rest.
He’s dressed in a loose, baggy black t-shirt with joggers to match, blond strands of hair messy and tousled, courtesy of the time he’s spent all day running around buying last-minutes ingredients for you. It doesn’t bother him in the slightest, though - especially not when it means he’ll be able to enjoy the treats alongside you and John once they’re complete. 
Speaking of, the captain in question lets out a low hum, agreeing with Simon’s comment.
“He’s right, love. You’ve been at it all day. You can pick it back up in the mornin’, yeah?”
He encourages, trying a different approach to have you call it quits. He, unlike Simon whose spending his time doing nothing but watching you work, tasks himself with washing the dishes that remain stacked haphazardly in the sink, the front of his form-fitting tee dampened with a mixture of water and soap as he works to scrub and rinse the dishes. 
His eyes flicker to Simon for a moment, lips gliding over the skin of his teeth as his eyes narrow slightly, putting back down the bowl he was rinsing in the sink with one hand, his other reaching over to grab a hand towel and tossing it towards Simon, the fabric making a soft thump as it collides with his chest. Simon catches it before it can fall, giving him a silent look of confusion. 
John’s eyes flicker between Simon’s, the towel, and the clean, wet dishes that stack on the drying rack before turning back to washing the dishes, allowing Simon to come to his own conclusions with a huff with a subtle roll of his eyes - playful in nature, of course - as he starts on with his task of drying the dishes. 
Though, even with both of their urgings and encouragement, you refuse to step away from your work for the hundredth time, both to John and Simon’s detriment. Instead of listening, you continue to work on the little snowman you’ve been focused on making - surprisingly, even with only white, vanilla frosting at your disposal, looks extremely good and well detailed. 
“I’ve only got like… a few more left to do. Makes no sense leaving it to the morning when I can just finish it now. Besides, I wouldn’t want to leave Mark all by himself - I’ve got to finish his friends.”
John lets out a choked laugh, snorting as his shoulders shaking, gently biting down onto his bottom lip as a means to try and stifle his own amusement while Simon takes it upon himself to connect the dots. There’s a pause for few beats between the three of you, filled with nothing but running water and dishware being settled into the drying rack, only to be picked up by Simon.
“Did you name the bloody biscuit Mark, Em?”
A few giggles pass through your own lips, back still to the two men behind you, though shaking all the same as you laugh to yourself. John’s not much different, coughing and clearing his throat in a poor attempt to stop himself from breaking out into his own fit of laughter. Simon rolls his eyes with a huff, an amused smirk spreading out across his lips.
“Fuckin’ ‘ell. Children, the both of ya’.”
His words only spur you on further, detaching yourself from the cookies, bringing on of your hands up to your mouth as you gently bite down onto your fist, giggling. Your other hand, still holding the icing packet, squeezes, applying more pressure than you intended for it to, causing for the white icing to splurt out messily from the top, dripping down the plastic, coating your palm and fingers in the process.
The idiocy of the situation only makes you harder, eyes crinkling with amusement as you let out a snort. Though, as much as you find entertainment in the situation, Simon - whose had a front-row seat in witnessing your antics - is more focused on the way the white, sticky frosting clings to your skin, slowly beginning to melt and becoming thinner in consistency.
His hands slow with their work drying off the dishes, the towel held in one of his hands coming to hang loosely in the air while the other holds tightly onto a ceramic bowl, his eyes narrowed as he watches you. John, sensing Simon’s faltering and loss in focus, turns his attention briefly over to him, pursing his lips softly.
His voice comes out into the space between the two of them, barely louder than a whisper - though, it’s not like there’s any use in whispering, given the way you’re losing your mind in your own amusement is loud enough to drown out any normal-level voiced conversation.
“Si-”
“Look at her hands.”
Simon quickly cuts him off, jutting his chin out slightly, turning his head back as he straightens out his own posture, nostrils flaring as he rolls his shoulders back. With a roll of his eyes, John moves his head, peeking over his shoulder to look behind him, eyes softening as they land on your face first, the joy etched into it, before they trail down to your palms.
“Fuck me.”
He mumbles out, teeth gritted as his own hands match Simon’s as they still. The hot water continues to run in the sink, his hands free as they rest beneath the stream. He swallows thickly, eyes flickering to Simon’s for just a moment - it isn’t hard to catch the hunger that lingers in his gaze - before moving right back to your hands.
You, however, are so completely and utterly oblivious to how the sight of the sticky, white icing, continuing to thin as the cool glaze keeps continued contact with your heated skin, affects both of your boyfriends. The way it smears against the packet and your palms, leaving a string behind from where it sticks between the two points, awfully familiar to a certain other liquid.
So, it’s no wonder you have no clue how it affects either of them when you bring your palm up to your mouth, tongue darting out to press against it and licking a hot, wet stripe upwards, catching quite a lot of it on your tongue. Washing and drying the dishes are a task completely forgotten, both Simon and John’s eyes focused solely on you, even if you don’t realize it yet.
Simon lets out a grunt, John a stifled groan, all while you focus on licking your hand clean.
You’re so focused on licking your fingers completely clean, though, tongue passing over every inch of skin near them that you can reach, that you completely miss the way that some of the frosting has dripped down to your wrist, a stream traveling to and gathering there, before a sizeable glob it falls, splattering messily against your chest.
It falls just below your collarbones, starting to leave a trail down between the valley between your tits. The shirt you have on is fairly low cut, so it’s easy to see the process as it happens, much of your upper chest already exposed to the air. You purse your lips slightly, working to clean off the rest of your hand before moving your hand.
You intentions are fully set on picking it up with your finger, dragging it up a trail and licking it off. However, a rough, worn, warm palm stops you, gently grabbing onto your wrist as a means to halt your actions - though, the tenseness of it’s hold is unmistakable, challenging that forced gentleness it holds.
“I got it.”
You don’t even know when Simon moved away from the counter and towards you, but before you can fully process it, much less protest his actions, he’s already moving you, gently urging you a step or two backwards as he takes your old place, standing in front of you as he looks down, brown eyes, once so warm and light, darkened with lust.
His eyes remain focused solely on you, hand moving from your wrist, up your arm, before settling on the side of your neck, gently tilting it back, though far enough that you can still see him as he bends downwards. His stocky form leans into you, hot breath ghosting over your skin as his own tongue peeks out past his lips, licking up the sweet icing onto his tongue.
As his tongue cleans you up, Price’s footsteps fall just audible enough that you can barely hear them, therefore not surprising you as his hands find purchase on your hips, his lips pressing a tender kiss to the base of your neck, letting a breath out through his nostrils that fans out along your skin.
He gently nips at the skin, chuckling lowly, the sound erupting from deep within his chest as he moves to rest his head atop your shoulder, looking down and watching Simon, just as you are, as he licks the sticky icing clean from your skin, holding you firmly in place so that the blond can have his way with you as he pleases.
“Messy girl…”
Simon mumbles out against your skin, forcing a shiver that crawls up your spine, sinking its claws into your flesh as his licks turn into kisses, which turn into nips, which escalate into something more. His hand moves from the side of your neck to press into your shoulder, urging you to lean backwards into John while his free hand moves down towards the front of your shirt.
You follow the action, back pressing flush against the front of John’s chest, feeling the way he pulls you in further by the hips, the hardness of his cock easily noteable against your back.
One of Simon’s fingers hook around the fabric, twisting it around as he pulls it downwards, stretching it, and moving it to come underneath your bra, framing them - and, in kind, your tits - perfectly. You feel your own eyes flutter, breathing growing heavy and catching in your throat as your knees grow weak, held up solely by John, who simply grins smugly at Simon.
“C’mon, Simon. You can do better than that. Wan’na hear our girl moan, don’t you?”
He encourages, borderline chasting the other man, his grin widening as Simon huffs out a breath of amusement, moving both of his hands down towards the front of your chest and hooking his thumbs around the cups of your bra, jerking them downwards in a rough motion, freeing your breats with one simple action. 
He immediately moves further, bending down in what must be an uncomfortable position as he wraps his lips around one of your nipples, teasing it with his tongue while his fingers move to pinch and twist the other, groaning against you. You can feel your own hips buck upwards as the most pathetic whine passes through your lips.
The desperate hunger in his actions mixed with John’s subtle motions of dominance make your head feel as though it’s tilting on its axis, getting spun ‘round and around until you’re positively dizzy, keening, whining, and moaning out unabashedly and without any semblance of shame.
One of John’s hands, both of which had been doing nothing more than holding you by the hips, move forwards, dipping beneath the waistband of your trousers and panties, middle and index finger spreading out as they meet your soaking cunt, gently spreading your folds apart. He isn’t at all concerned with taking either articles off and, if anything, seems spurred on by the challenge the boundaries offer.
“Soaked already, hmm? We haven’t even done anythin’ yet, Em.”
He taunts you, feeling the way your slick coats his fingers with ease as he inches his way towards your opening, swirling a sole finger around it in a slow, counterclockwise motion. He just barely teases the tip of his finger inwards, chuckling at the way you try to writhe and get more from him, all the while Simon puts all of his attention on your pretty tits.
“In ‘er defense, we’ve done a lot more than nothin’.”
Simon mumbles, barely pulling his mouth away before diving right back in, working to suck a hickey into the soft flesh of your breast right next to your nipple, leaving an assortment of them with the inclusion of nips and bites all along your skin, making a conscious effort to provide equal parts of attention to both of them.
John rolls his eyes, clicking his tongue gently as he pushes a finger inwards, feeling the way your walls welcome the intrusion with greed, swallowing the single finger up whole. He turns his neck just barely to the side, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck, letting his lips rest there, breathing out in heavy breaths that match your own and Simon’s alike.
“Guess she’ll have to build up a defense for herself then, huh, Simon?”
“Guess she will.”
It seems like you will have to leave the rest of the decorating for the morning, now won’t you?
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florence-end · 9 months
Note
what do you think about pregnant reader x rhys that is emotional, like she has a sandwich and it falls to the floor and she starts wailing bc she put so much time into it? btw god i literally live your while page like i binge read everything, you’re so talanted😭😭❤️
Ahhhhh obsessed with this, he’d constantly be so alarmed! And thank you, that’s made my day🥹🥹
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You put the final piece of bread on your monstrosity of a sandwich and stepped back to consider if there was anything else you wanted to add before tucking in. The kitchen counter was littered with cheese, peanut butter, pickles, syrup, hot sauce and tomatoes, all of which had made the cut for your lunch. You knew it was a little unorthodox but what baby wanted, baby got. The little bean in your belly seemed to wiggle around excitedly, sensing food was on its way.
Picking up your sandwich, you walked to the window overlooking the garden behind the townhouse and lifted the creation to your mouth ready to take an enormous bite when-
“Hello darling, what have you got there?”
You shrieked loudly, dropping the sandwich as your hands moved to your protruding belly protectively as you reeled from the shock of your husband winnowing into your kitchen without warning.
The sandwich hit the floor with a resounding splat, all the ingredients spreading out across the tiles as you stared down at it in shock.
“Oh I’m sorry my love, I didn’t mean to make you jump. Here, let me clean that up,” Rhys apologised, placing a hand on your back to usher you away from the mess.
You looked up at him then down at the remains of the only thing you had felt like eating all day, before you angrily knocked his hand away from you and burst into tears.
“No no no, don’t cry, it’s okay! I’ll make you another sandwich right now, it’ll take two minutes,” Rhys fretted. You had been feeling quite emotional during this stage of your pregnancy and to put it simply, Rhys couldn’t cope. The slightest wobble of your lip or sign of tears in your eyes and he was jumping into action to resolve anything that might have caused you even the smallest upset. But this was the first time he had caused the waterworks, making it a thousand times worse.
You knew you were being irrational but you didn’t care. You didn’t even want another sandwich now, the sight of the strange ingredients splattered on the floor putting you off immediately.
“No, don’t bother” you sobbed, waddling to the stairs and back to your shared bedroom.
Rhys stood frozen in the kitchen, absentmindedly sending his power out to clear up the mess on the floor and the counters while he tried to figure out his next move. But before he could make a decision on how to comfort you this time, you were back. You stumbled back into the kitchen, tears still rolling uncontrollably down your face, and immediately leaned your forehead on Rhys’ chest. Well, as best you could while accommodating the large belly.
“I’m sorry,” you wailed. “Please don’t go!”
Rhys chuckled, gathering you up into his arms and moving to the armchair by the roaring fire in the living room. He sat down with you comfortably curled onto his lap, his hands rubbing soothing circles into your back and stomach.
“No apologies necessary darling, you are carrying my child and you can be as emotional as you like. I’ve dealt with far worse from my family over the years and they had no hormones to blame. You do need to eat though, what sounds good? I’m guessing sandwiches are off the table now,” he leaned back to get a look at your face, tear tracks still wet against your cheeks.
You thought for a second.
“Ooooh you know what sounds really good? That stew Cassian made last time we visited Windhaven!” You declared, grinning at the memory, sandwich and ensuing upset forgotten.
“Leave it with me darling. Why don’t you take a nap, and he’ll have it ready by the time you wake up,” your husband promised, moving you to the large sofa.
You settled down happily, dreaming of the warm spiced stew you’d be enjoying when you woke up.
With your eyes closed, you didn’t see Rhys run his hands down his face as he prepared to winnow to the remote Illyrian camp that the General was currently visiting. He’d no doubt get the ribbing of his life when he explained to his brother that he needed him to come home three days early or else his pretty little pregnant wife was going to cry again. Gods help him.
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teecupangel · 7 months
Note
so i have this idea in a Desmond lives au after the solar flare he starts a channel like tasting history with max miller in which he recreates historical dishes that his ancestors used to make with Shaun and Rebecca appearing by tasting what he makes
(The video starts with a man addressing the video in a beautiful clean kitchen)
“So this isn’t my usual content but I’ve got a lot of requests to do a reaction video on this youtube channel called ‘I Am Not My Ancestors’ where he recreates recipes he got from his ancestors. At least, that’s what he claims. A lot of you asked me to check if his recipes are what a household from that time period would make and I asked Desmond, he’s the owner of I’m Not My Ancestor channel if he’s alright with me reacting to them and I received his permission.”
“I’d like to make it clear that he has no hand in any of my reactions. This will be the first time I’m watching the videos I’d be reacting to and there’s no script, we didn’t talk about what I should say or what I shouldn’t say. I can even show you guys his actual reply to my email.”
(The video cuts to some kind of recorder, most probably a phone camera, aimed at the screen of a monitor showing an opened email)
Subject: Re: Requesting permissions to react to your videos
Sender: Desmond M [email protected]
yeah go ahead man.
(The video returns to the man in the kitchen)
“So with his permission… let’s check out some of his videos, shall we?”
(The video changed. On the lower left corner is the same man, now wearing earbuds. The rest of the video appears to be a screen recording of the Youtube Channel ‘I Am Not My Ancestors’. The mouse clicks on the Cooking Playlist and clicks a video titled “What an Assassin from 12th Century That Can’t Cook Cooks”)
(The video changes to a normal looking kitchen with a young man. A prominent scar mars his lips and his eyes seemed to glow gold at certain angles although it looked mostly light brown)
“So… I’ve been focusing on Renaissance Italy food for a while now and I thought I’d branch out and make something my other ancestors made. Then I remembered my ancestor from 12th century Syria doesn’t know how to cook.” The man said as he placed his hands on the counter, “But, well, let’s try it anyway.”
(The video continues with the man listening down all the ingredients he’d be using to make what he calls ‘road food’)
(The video is paused and the man on the lower left begins to speak)
“Okay, so this is one of his latest videos and I just want to talk about all the ingredients he’s using for this… ‘road food’. All of these can be bought in Syria and I’ve seen all of them used in different dishes in historical cook books. The more important part is that all of these? Can be found in the wilds during those time and I believe that he’ll tell us that these ingredients are used because they don’t cost any money, only time and a discerning eye. Let’s see if I’m right.”
(The video plays once more)
“You can also change any of the things I listed to whatever wild plants to find on your way. Normally, if your mission takes you to a place that’s more than a day ride away-”
“By horse.” Someone off camera added.
“Yeah, by horse. Thanks, Becs. Anyway, if it’s more than a day ride away, what you usually do is stay in a nearby bureau- hm? Oh, right. A bureau is what the Assassins call their… mini headquarters in other places. So they have their headquarters in Masyaf, Alamut and Ḥalab and they have bureaus on other places as well.”
(The video paused and the man on the lower left speaks once more)
“While I can’t verify his claims, the Nizaris of which the Assassins are from did have strongholds in Masyaf, Alamut and this Ḥalab is more known as Aleppo to many of us. Anyway, let’s continue.”
(The video is played once more)
“But sometimes, you go to a far away place and the supplies they give you is lacking because Al Mualim is a stingy old man who’ll tell you that ‘an Assassin must triumph over’ this kind of bullshit so you learn to live off eating game and grass-”
(The video is paused and the man on the lower left commented)
“I believe this Al Mualim he speaks of is Rashid al-Din Sinan, known as the Old Man of the Mountain. From the way he speaks, it’s either he knows Rashid himself. Or, of course, he has a journal of his ancestor who has certain words to describe Rashid. I’m sure it’s the latter.”
(The video plays once more)
“So this is what Al-”
“Your ancestor.”
(The man on the lower left tilts his head but does not pause the video)
“My ancestor would make during those ‘tiring’ times.”
(The video continues as the man starts to cook, starting from preparing a small game and then… throwing it and all the other ingredients in a pot. The man on the lower left stared at him with an open mouth.)
“Yeah, that’s it. Just wait until the meat is cooked. While you wait, you should patrol the area, check your map, write on your journal… the usual stuff.”
(The video transitions to the same place but the man is now on his phone, seemingly tapping on the screen.)
“Desmond… isn’t it cooked yet?”
“Hm? Oh, yeah. I told you guys this is the easiest shit my ancestors can cook. This is also the only thing Alta-”
“Your ancestor.”
“My ancestor can’t fucked up. Anyway, let’s have Shaun try it out.”
(As the man grabs a bowl and pours the soup in it, a man with glasses stepped to the frame with arms crossed)
“Guys, say hello to Shaun, our resident taste tester and the actual historian in our little group.”
“I’ve been tasting everything you make for these videos. They already know who I am.”
“Yeah, yeah, just taste this.”
(The man with glasses took the bowl and blew his spoon before taking a mouthful. He chewed for a moment before nodding.)
“It’s okay.”
“You're British, of course you think the lack of flavor is okay.”
“Hey.”
“Anyway, the main point of this dish is to sustain us. Good food will always be welcomed but what we need is the nutrients and energy food gives us. After we get to the bureau, we’ll have some actual good food.”
(The video pauses and changes to only show the man in the beautiful kitchen)
“Okay, so let’s talk about the recipe itself…”
(The video continues as the man list down all the ingredients and where they have appeared in historical books, referencing other recipes similar to the recipe that the video used)
“I think I should watch more videos, maybe one of his Renaissance Italy videos because it seems like this ancestor of his is quite… the ‘frugal’ and practical kind. Let me know in the comments which videos you’d like me to watch nex-
(The video stops and the laptop closes)
“Desmond, he called Altaïr frugal and practical.”
“Not because he wanted to. What do you think he did when he was traveling with Maria? That man tried out every food he saw.”
(is this in the same universe as #Da Vinci's secret lover Not-Salai? Maybe? Maybe not? idk)
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yelenasdiary · 7 months
Note
Flufftober request:
Wandanat x reader (romantic)
Didn't really have a full-on idea for this one. But something fluffy. Maybe like a cute date after being working nonstop. Or them cooking together.
Pecan Pie
Pairing:  WandaNat x Avenger! GN! Reader
Summary:  After a relaxing weekend, you and your girlfriends spend a quiet Monday afternoon baking. 
Warnings:  None, all Fluff! | 1.2K
Translations: Detka (baby), miláčik (darling in Slovak)
AC: I thought this was cute!! I hope you don’t mind that I decided to keep it Fall themed! Enjoy x 
October Special Masterlist
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To say you were excited was an understatement! You'd been waiting for this day since mid-September, well, let's be honest, since last Halloween! It would be the second Halloween you got to spend with your girlfriends, Wanda and Natasha. Sure you guys have spent other Halloween's together but not as a couple. While you had returned from your solo mission early, you went to the store and grabbed everything you, Wanda and Nat would need for the planned baking afternoon on Monday.
Your girlfriends arrived home around lunch time on Sunday, giving the three of you the perfect night to be snuggled up watching spooky movies. Halloween was right down your alley as it was your favorite holiday. The others knew that when Halloween came howling around, to leave you in the kitchen to bake up a spooky feast. 
Tony was throwing another one of his big parties, this time for Halloween and you confidently told him that you, Wanda and Nat would have the food covered. You made a list of things you wanted to make with your girlfriends, everything from popcorn balls to pecan pie. Wanda could help but chuckle to Nat as they watched you put your apron on, of course a Halloween themed one. They loved how happy the holiday made you and even more that they got to enjoy it with you. 
"Well? Don't just stand there, we have so much to do!" You playfully teased your girlfriends as they stood in the doorframe of the kitchen. The two women laughed before walking over to grab an apron each. 
"Where do you want me to start detka?" Natasha asked not before placing a kiss on your cheek as she wrapped her arms around your waist. Natasha was always the trouble maker, she loved distracting you with the touch of her lips while she could barely keep her hands off you. "Honey don't distract them yet; we haven't even started" Wanda placed a hand on Natasha's forearm as she made her way behind the two of you. 
"I want to get some of savoury food done first before the desserts!" you turned in Natasha's arms now facing her. She smiled softly making you blush at her eye contact, "does that mean I can savour you?" the red head asked in a smooth and flirting tone. "Natty!" you giggled, "we're never going to get anything done with you being like this" you added before reaching up on your tiptoes to kiss her plumped lips.
"I'll be serious now, I got what I wanted" Natasha playfully winked when you pulled away. You smiled softly at her before swiftly moving out of her arms and moving over to the kitchen island, "I printed off each recipe so pick 1 recipe each and we'll get the prep done a lot faster, whatever needs to bake the longest will go first in the oven" you explained as you spread out the many recipes on the dining table, away from the mess that was only going to get bigger. 
After a few short minutes the three of you picked a recipe to make, Natasha picked mini-Pumpkin & Feta pies, Wanda picking the Pecan Pie while you chose Pumpkin Hummus. "Okay so the pecan pie will take the longest to bake, Wands you have first dips on the oven then Natty!" you smiled with excitement as the three of you wandered back to the kitchen island and began picking up the ingredients that you all needed for your picked recipe. 
It wasn't long until the mess in the kitchen was scattered around the countertops, flour and other chopped ingredients ended up on the floor, a mess you promised to clean up later to save the cleaning staff the hassle. Wanda's pecan pie was baking in the oven when you felt her come up behind you and gently place her two hands on your cheeks, "OMG!" You almost jumped, Wanda started laughing as you turned around and exposed the flour print hand prints she left on your cheeks. 
"Now that's a baked good I'd like to eat" Natasha commented as you grabbed a small hand full of flour from your silver bowl and rushed over to Wanda, sprinkling it in her hand before throwing the remained of the flour at Nat. Both women broke out into laughter, Wanda wrapped her arms around you and pulled you closer into her while giving Natasha a certain look. Nat read between the lines and grabbed the bowl of flour form your section of the kitchen, she walked up behind you and poured the leftover flour over your head causing you to squeal. 
"You guys are so dead for that!" you teased, shaking the flour from your hair. 
The whole compound could hear the commotion coming from the kitchen, laughed and squeals filled the kitchen which made the compound feel less like a place of work and more of a place everybody called home. 
You grabbed the large bag of flour and threw handfuls of flour at your girlfriends while ducking behind the end of the kitchen island as they gently threw other scraps at you. The small food fight got serious when Wanda distracted you by asking you to check on her pie while Nat came up behind you and cracked an egg over your head. You gasped as you turned to your red headed girlfriend, "you did not!" you said, reaching for the chocolate sauce that was in a squeeze bottle, "you're going to pay!" you added. Both of your girlfriends unbale to stop laughing. 
You squeezed a decent amount of chocolate sauce onto Natasha's chest, pointing the bottle directly at her before moving it into Wanda's direction who squealed loudly and ran away, using a dining table chair as a shield from the chocolate treat. None of you realised that Tony, Steve, Maria and Sam were watching everything unfold from the doorframe of the kitchen. 
"Is it too late to call a bakery? We'll need food for tomorrow" Sam looked over at Tony.
"Nah, It's Y/n, they'll make it happen, don't stress" Maria replied before Tony could open his month. The four Avengers watched their friends destroy the kitchen in a food fight mess before one egg hit Steve's stomach. The three of you froze as your eyes met the other four watching in amusement. 
"W-we'll clean this up!" you stuttered while looking at Tony, "I promise!" you added in hopes he wasn't mad. Wanda wrapped one arm around your waist while Natasha wrapped her arm around the other side of your waist, "it was our fault" the women said in sync. 
"I don't care who started it, just don't let the pecan pie burn or else Steve will be mopey" Tony replied before walking away. Steve watched him, shaking his head. 
"Are you happy now?" you looked at both of your girlfriends, "we're a mess, the kitchen is a disaster, and we haven't even gotten to making the popcorn balls!" you added with a pout. 
"Oh miláčik, you stress too much" Wanda clicked her fingers together, using her magic to instantly clean up the kitchen and yourselves. "How do I almost forget you have powers?" you playfully shook your head at Wanda, "let's get back to baking!" you added with a smile.
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Taglist: @itsmv3 | @katiemay-025 | @romanoffs-widow | @maria-403 | @boredandneedfanfics | @wandamaximoffspuppup | @xox-little-troublemaker-xox | @shibugs | @music-4ever
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temis-de-leon · 19 days
Text
Day 4 - Blow a kiss
Characters: Leviathan x gn!MC
25 kisses challenge Masterlist
Main Masterlist
CW: none, this is pure fluff, established relationship
.
Sharing a wall with the kitchen wasn’t all fun and games. Sure, MC could go for a quick snack without bothering anyone or taking too long, but cooking for eight people didn’t left any room for silence. The whole hour before lunch and dinner made studying impossible for MC and then they had to add another hour of insufferable noise after every meal for cleaning. Why did Lucifer make the process so long, MC didn’t know, but sure it was tiring.
Mornings at RAD gave very little free time to get a head start on assignments and all the brothers wanted to do one thing or the other with them, so, since spending time with Levi without interruption could only be done at night, being productive in the late evenings seemed to be the most rational solution.
That was until someone decided to cook right after lunch.
Not even half an hour after cleaning was done, the sound of pans and pots caught MC’s attention. Who was it now? They knew Beel preferred to rest a little before heading to the gym and they couldn’t think about anyone else that could be interested in cooking with a full stomach, so who was the culprit of their interrupted time?
The sound of cheery humming filled their ears when they got out of their room, immediately making them smile when they recognized the voice.
“Levi?”
He raised his head with a beaming expression. His arms were trembling under the weight of a gigantic piece of meat and the countertop was covered in kitchen utensils, bottles and other ingredients. And what was that dirty bag resting against his leg on the floor?
“MC! Look!”
Their heart got warmer the closer they got to their boyfriend. The cookbook was barely visible under the grocery bags and now they could recognize the meat as a shadow hog’s set of ribs.
“Whatcha doing, baby?”
His face became red and his eyes shined at the nickname, but he kept talking.
“I was watching ‘Devil Food Wars!’ with Beel the other day and they cooked this new dish: roasted shadow hog on sizzling charcoal marinated in Demonus! It looked so good, I knew I had to try it!”
“And you’re cooking it for the whole family?”
“Of course! I mean, mainly for Beel, but for the rest of us too. Oh, my mouth is watering already!!”
MC laughed and blushed at his enthusiasm. The most handsome he ever looked was when he was passionate about something. His smile was wide, he stood straight and he looked at them with obvious excitement, stoked about the idea of sharing something he loved with them.
Homework could wait. MC would always choose spending time with Levi.
“Let me change into something more comfortable so I can help you”
“Yay! Thank you, MC, you’re the best ever!”
“The best ever?” they stopped, turning around at the door with a lewd look in their face “The best what?”
“The best everything”
They smiled at each other and Levi’s innocently loving gaze was enough for MC to leave their innuendos for later.
“You’re so cute”
His shock was evident, cheeks furiously red at their statement, making MC chuckle in delight. They brought the tips of their fingers to their lips, kissing them loudly before sending the gesture to a gawking Levi.
“MC…” he lowered his gaze, hiding his mouth behind his hand “Too cute to handle…!”
They left while he stuttered, swallowing a laugh when he finally screamed in frustration what he wanted to say.
“YOU CAN’T DO THAT WITHOUT A WARNING, MC!!”
.
.
Taglist: @ourfinalisation  @owlisbuffering  @chizukimp4  @ravenredwine @darkflowerav  @beatlebeesstuff
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writingoddess1125 · 5 months
Note
Can you do a Sanji x reader angst?
Done-
Enjoy DEPRESSION!
Inertia
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Masterlist <<<
'Goodbye-'
He heard it every morning when he woke up from his nightmares- at this piint dreams since he was met with the same dream every night, Rolling himself up right as the sun rose forcing his day to start. Heading down to the kitchen, both his salvation and his personal prison at this point.
" Come on Sanji!-"
You cried, pulling him along to the ship that would take the both of you away. His sister saving both your lives that day in giving you all the chance to run- to free yourself from this hellish place!-
Hidden beneath the rhythmic clatter of utensils and the sizzle of ingredients in the pan, Sanji's heart harbored a constant darkness non could see. His eyes, filled with fire and sparkle, also held a subtle emptiness that went unnoticed by his comrades- A smile on his lips as he served breakfast to them all.
Laughing along with their jokes, flirting with Nami as if only to do so to keep the endless cycle going. Cook, Flirt, Smile, Train- Repeat.
"You gotta learn how to flirt Sanji!" You yelled, Sanji shyly staring at you in question. The two of you in the hall of thr shit you'd jumped to, peeling potstos to avoid the verbal abuse of the adults.
"But why?"
"Cause you gotta get girls silly! Got to make a good impression" You exclaim, rather flamboyant in your remarks which made Sanji mutter shyly about his lack of skill.
"Here just do what I do-" You clear your throat, Before giving a dramatic fluttering of your eyes and reaching forward to touch the youthful adolescents chest flirtatiously making him blush and bat you away like a startled kitten. You laughing at his reaction.
Cleaning up he made his way out to the main deck, practicing kicks and other moves with his peers. Arguing with Zoro- but it just didn't feel the same as the arguments he used to have with you.. missing the way your voice strained and waved with the force.
Before smiling at Luffy and talking with his captain- continuing his hollow laughs and empty smiles. Not long before returning to the kitchens were he prepped.
Sanji rusing as he felt the spray of the sea, the ache in his body as he clammered over the sharp rock he was stuck on. Seeing Zeff, the pirate who had taken over their ship as he rushed to him in a fit of rage "Where are they!?" He yelled at Zeff his eyes still searching for you, the hardened pirate shining the bag of food into the child's arms.
"We are the only survivors!- Now take your half and go!"
Serving dinner, he couldn't find it in himself to eat. His mouth bitter at remembering the moldy bread and salty water.
In the quiet moments when the kitchen lights dimmed, and the crew retired to their bunks, Sanji faced the hollowness that clung to him like a persistent shadow- Like you were still there wrapping your arms around him and whispering his undeserving praises.
Shaking the feeling for a moment, he stepped from the now clean kitchen. The dark night air welcoming him as they always did, the only true thing he could remeber of your scent was the constant smell of the sea on your clothes.
Looking back, Sanji was sure Zeff could hear his anguished cried for you those first few nights. His voice fading into nothing after the third day of sobbing your name and begging for you to return to him.
He stood there, Leaning against the railing in the direction of the where he knew your marker was. The one he had planted all those years ago as the place were you had been dragged away under the sea just north of the Baratie.
Pulling out a cigarette he lit it taking a deep drag as he looked out at the dark sea before him. The one who had taken you from him- Thinking of your final words, in that kitchen area when you shoved him towards Zeff as the crashing waves overtook the ship you were both in.
'Goodbye-'
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redrum-alice · 28 days
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A.B.A x Human Paracelsus fanfic ideaaaaaaaaa...
Summary: Human Paracelsus may be in a human body, but he can't help his thirst for blood. Just so happens that his wife accidentally cut her finger-- the smell of mercury doesn't stop him though :)
Warning: a bit NSFW-ish? Blood kink too-- Idk :P [Post Strive]
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After a long search, A.B.A was finally able to find a body suited for Paracelsus. Just seeing him in his new form had her madly in love again now that he has arms to wrap around her...or so she thought.
While Paracelsus "appreciated" her gesture (albeit loosely), he can't help but to feel strange about this human form- so many sensations that are too overwhelming to comprehend. Flesh that he sought after in violence now plastered on this feeble yet lean body, something A.B.A wished for. After agreeing to make things better with his partner, he took his share of work and helped A.B.A live out her domestic fantasies, starting off with cooking meals after they found an abandoned cabin.
A.B.A isn't much of a cook in terms of what she serves. She understands and quickly learns about how it works, but using ingredients that are not suited for one another is what hinders her, often cleaned up by Paracelsus so she wouldn't get upset about her mishap.
One morning, he woke up to a delicious smell. Perhaps his wife finally grasped the fundamentals of basic cooking, but he wagered it'd be a risk if he went to try her concoction blindly. Having acquired a human sense of smell and taste, he needed to exercise them with better options rather than risking it with something foul.
Heading towards the kitchen, he saw the homunculous trying her best to whip up a a meal along with piles of dirty dishes on the sink that is wordlessly assigned to him. On the table were what humans call "scrambled eggs", but it seems that it had bits of shells left on them.
But besides the whole mess, he noticed that there's something in the young woman that he didn't quite notice before he acquired a human body.
Never had he viewed her as someone who has a venusian charm; her figure could be compared to those statues of women whose arms are cut off to expose their ample bosoms. He supposed that this is a human experience, one that is alien to him, for he had never got the concept of "attraction". His so-called wife, however, had showed him examples of what it is to be attracted to someone, which what got themselves into this situation.
"Dear, you're awake!" A.B.A turned around to her husband, snaping him from his daze. "I do hope your new form is not so much of a burden..."
"I'm fine, A.B.A." he lied, not wanting to upset her.
The homunculous only responded with gleeful demeanor and returned to her task. "I'm sure you're experiencing hunger for the first time...after days of walking to find shelter." She hummed sweetly. "I-I'm trying to make something to replenish you..."
Paracelsus stayed quiet and proceeded to sit on the chair. When they entered the cabin, all the furnitures were blanketed with dust, including the table they occupied. To his surprise, it was clean and it even had a vase of fresh flowers that she must've picked outside- it was a small silent countryside after all. He assumed that A.B.A did all this while he was sleeping. He'd be lying if he didn't admit he was impressed. She did always go above and beyond to provide for them.
All of a sudden, he heard a squeal.
"Eek!" She screamed, followed by a sound of metal clanking on a wooden board.
"A.B.A! Are you alright?" Paracelsus stood up and rushed to his partner. "What happened?"
"I-it's nothing, dear..." she reluctantly responded. "Y-you should prepare the plates..."
Not buying a word, he beckoned her to show what she was hiding in her arms. A.B.A eventually complied, not wishing to disappoint her husband in fear that he would get frustrated and walk out of the door, seeing that he can now freely go anywhere he wish with those limbs. She hesitantly gave her hand to him, hoping he wouldn't think of her any less for a simple mistake of cutting her finger by accident.
"I-I should have been more careful, dear. I'm not fit to be a good wife if I keep being reckless." She shuddered, an instinct that Paracelsus know all too well when she's stressed. The crimson red substance pooled from the slit on her pale finger down to her palm.
He shouldn't have looked directly at it.
Paracelsus knew that his cravings for blood won't be diluted even if he was in a human body. He is a demon after all. But it was a strange feeling that wasn't akin to hunger, but something else. Yes, it is true that A.B.A had a mixture of mercury in her blood, but its color was as fascinating as that of a human blood.
He excused himself and wasted no time in finding a first aid kit, but the girl halted him by grabbing his arm. Paranoia was something she could not get rid of, even if it jeopardizes her in dire situations.
"No wait! I can fix it!" She insisted as she tugged on his arm, carelessly rubbing her wounded hand and letting her blood smudge on his skin. He gulped, feeling how wet and warm it seemed.
"Please dear, I can handle it! Let me wrap it myself. I'm sorry to have made you worried." A.B.A tugged on her bandanges on her leg, neverminding if it exposes her further.
All of these happening in front of him was driving him insane: his wife's intoxicating blood, her sweet panicked face, and her leg that teased him as soon as those bandages were repurposed to aid her wound.
Before she could wrap it on her hand, Paracelsus grabbed her injured hand and inspected it. What comes next was something A.B.A herself found shocking.
He licked her wound and begun sucking on it.
The sensation was so overwhelming that she was certain she nearly forgot the ability to speak. A.B.A watched in astonishment until she felt her legs wobble; only then she regained her voice.
"D-dear...?" She found herself having difficulty expressing her thoughts. Paracelsus kept sucking on her blood, not minding how it burns his tongue. What a pathetic flesh, he thought.
As if his fighting spirit also got converted into a human equivalent, he soon finds himself grabbing A.B.A closer to him and eventually trailing his free hand dangerously close to her plump ass. The young female homunculous couldn't help but to admire what her generous and loving husband is doing to her, evident by how her breathing quickened.
Soon, he carried her and pinned her down on the table. Screw the eggs, he was hungry for something this new body was craving for- her flesh. His ravenous side earning the upper hand as he starts to kiss his bride harshly on her lips, making A.B.A fluster more than she usually does. Those kisses turned into full on lip-locking, pooling their mouths with each other's saliva. His kisses soon attacked her neck, ripping off the bandanges that was blocking him from giving his sweet wife the pleasure she deserves.
It was no doubt that even in human form, he was still susceptive to primal urges such as blood, but this time, it was mixed with carnal desire.
And it seems he wasn't the only one enjoying it. A.B.A was more than eager to reciprocate this affection. She was more than ready to finally do it with her husband after years of solitude.
Oh how sweet it was to finally consumate their marriage.
Er...to be continued on ao3? This is just a stupid fanfic idea 💀🔫
Tagging @l00nwizard and @weeko bc of your replies. Sorry if this one is not too wholesome, but its a ficlet ig 💀😭🔫
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ash5monster01 · 2 months
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Ground Rules
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Pairing: Angus Macgyver x FemReader
Warnings: fluff, minor angst, just two first time parents trying to figure it out
Summary: Much to your dismay your shared child seems to take after Mac and his curious ways. You had heard the stories about his unique childhood and if you didn’t get it under control soon, your daughter was bound to follow right in his foot steps.
word count: 1.5k
Masterlist
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When you had first started dating Mac there had never really been any rules. It wasn’t until you moved in together you finally had to put some in place. You had tripped over one to many contraptions and been a little too close to some minor explosions that had you deciding on no experiments in the house. After a minor fight he finally agreed and Mac followed that rule to the best of his abilities and you appreciated him for it.
What you had never expected was having a kid just like him. You don’t know why it never crossed your mind that it was possible for your child to have Mac’s intelligence. To be honest you wished you would’ve and you could’ve prepared yourself for all that was to come with a curious mind desperate to learn. You had heard all those stories about Mac when he was a kid, blowing up football fields and smoking out labs, but none of it ever really felt real until now. They finally felt real because your daughter had now taken it upon herself to do science experiments anywhere she can.
You had left for only ten minutes. That was it. Ten peaceful minutes to go out and do some minor yard work. She was reading a Nancy Drew book on the couch when you left but when you had returned, the eight year old girl had covered the kitchen in what looked like some sort of green foam. It takes your mind only a second to go haywire, panic setting in, fear of chemicals, and misdirected anger at your husband.
“Jackie! What is going on?” you rush towards her, making quick work of pulling her away from the mess.
“Elephant toothpaste, I saw it on TV and Dad told me how to make it” you were sure smoke was steaming out of your ears by now. As proud as you were for how smart your daughter was, these actions could become hazardous.
“Honey, I need you to tell me what exactly is in elephant toothpaste?” you ask as calmly as you can, keeping your voice even as if to not scare her off.
“Hydrogen peroxide, yeast, dish soap, water, and food coloring for some fun!” she claps excitedly, eyeing that very mixture on the kitchen counter. Now calming over the harmless ingredients you look at where she has some foam now stuck in her curly blonde hair.
“All that made a huge mess in my kitchen?” you ask, reaching for a dish towel and wiping away as much as you can in her hair.
“Well I tripled the recipe for a bigger explosion” she says as if the sentence alone doesn’t make your heart stutter. Letting out a deep sigh you stand back up and start to guide her to the bathroom.
“You definitely are you father’s daughter” you mutter, hands squeezing her shoulders.
“You should’ve seen it Mom, it was huge!” she cheers excitedly as you start down the hallway.
“Let’s get you in the bath” you tell her and she just smiles wide, clearly content with what she had just accomplished and you now had to clean up.
Once filling the tub with warm water you help your daughter step out of her elephant toothpaste splattered dress and into the bath. Offering her a bath bomb she keeps her curious mind occupied as you step out and figure out how to prepare yourself for the cleaning you had ahead of you.
“What happened here?” you find your blonde husband with an amused smile on his face, eyes scanning the green foam.
“Someone decided to make elephant toothpaste, have any idea where she got that from?” you ask crossing your arms and Mac looks up to find you are not as amused as him in this situation.
“Shit baby I’m so sorry. I didn’t think she’d actually attempt it, much less inside the house” he says walking over to you and you sigh, trying your best to not place all the blame on him.
“It’s fine, I just have to figure out how to clean it now” you say, hands reaching up to push the hair out of your face. It had already been a long day and the last thing you needed was this.
“It’s okay, I got it. I’ve done elephant toothpaste a time or two” he says, hands reaching to squeeze each of your arms, and you offer a weak smile.
“She’s gonna be trouble, just like you” you say with an accusing finger and Mac smiles before pulling you close and wrapping his arms around your waist.
“Maybe, but at least I know how to handle it. When I was blowing things up I never had anyone who understood me” Mac says and you give him a panicked look.
“I didn’t say anything about blowing things up” you tell him, head beginning to shake and Mac quickly stops you.
“I know but I happened to remove an entire football field once in my life. Maybe I can keep hers contained to a small park or something” he teases but you give him a stern look that says you’re not ready to joke about this just quite yet.
“How about no explosions and no more experiments in our home?” you say and Mac clearly mulls it over. You know he wants to cater to his daughter’s curious mind, provide her with every opportunity he could to learn, but could that be done at the expense of your kitchen?
“One explosion and experiments in the yard?” he counter offers and you sigh.
“No explosions and experiments small enough to not alert neighbors in the yard” you finalize and he nods with a grin.
“I can accept that” he says before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “Now where’s our little scientist, I want to applaud her”
“She’s taking a bath, you can say hi after you clean up this mess” you tell him, hands pressing against his chest and in the direction of the green foam.
“And what about you?” he asks, a small pout to his lips and you slowly press a kiss to them. The pout gone in seconds.
“I’m going to help her out of the bath and then we’re going to set some rules” you tell him and he nods, saluting you as you walk back to the bathroom to find Jackie hadn’t even washed her hair yet.
It’s only an hour later you finally have the small girl in fresh pajamas, damp hair combed, and sat between you and Mac on the couch. The Nancy Drew book from before is open on her lap and you finally give Mac a look to tell him it’s time to set some rules and create boundaries for her.
“Jackie honey?” you coo, fingers reaching to push away the book for a moment.
“Yeah Mom?” she says, half distracted and trying to chase the page as it moves away from her.
“We wanted to talk to you about your little experiment today” you tell her and Mac nodded, blue eyes finding his daughter’s matching ones.
“Yeah honey, just a quick chat” and at her father’s words she finally closes the book on her lap.
“We love that you enjoy learning new things. It’s amazing the things you already understand, but we need to set some rules” you tell her and a sad look flashes across her features in seconds.
“You made a big mess today, one that worried your Mom. So there can’t be anymore experiments in the house” Mac says and the girls is instantly defeated, a gasp leaving her mouth.
“But Dad, it was just elephant toothpaste. It wasn’t dangerous!” she whines and Mac shakes his head, staying firm and on your side.
“Yeah but your Mom didn’t know that. So there is going to be no more experiments in this house unless approved and supervised by one of us” he tells her and her lip instantly quivers as her arms cross over her chest.
“But you and Dad can do as many experiments in the yard as you want and he’s also agreed to bring you to his lab at work once a week to learn something new” you comfort the sad girl, arm wrapping around her.
“You promise?” she asks, hopeful eyes looking up at her Dad.
“Of course honey, pinky promise. We want you to grow and learn but science can be dangerous and it’s important we treat every experiment as that” he tells her and she nods even though you know she’s not entirely on board yet.
“Does that mean I have to tell you about the habitat I’m growing in my closet?” she whispers and you flash a worried look to Mac who is trying his best not to laugh.
“Well, why don’t we go find out” he says, standing and lifting the girl to dangle over his shoulder. The giggles and squeals she lets out are a stark contrast to the somber mood she was just in and you can’t help but smile as you watch them disappear down the hallway.
“Is that a toad?!” you hear Mac’s voice bellow down the hallway and you are quick to stand to your feet and rush down the hallway.
“Oh hell no”
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Taglist: @mayfieldss
Comment if you want to be tagged in any upcoming Macgyver fics <3
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moldycantaloupe · 21 days
Text
Mushy May Day 2
Late Night Snacks
Pairing; Aether and Aeon
Rating; E for Everyone
Slight Cw; Food aversions, Aeon is ND coded!
Aether had spent his entire afternoon and evening in the infirmary without a moment’s break thanks to a nasty human virus. It was nearing two in the morning when Omega finally kicked him out with promises to keep the fort steady.
It only took one step into the hallway for his body to begin screaming at him. Tired, achy, dirty, but worst of all starving. He’d been so busy he didn’t take into account that he should’ve eaten at least a granola bar. Thank lucifer for their overstuffed fridge in the den, though. A quick snack before a quick shower before a quick sleep.
What he was expecting when he opened the den’s door was nothing, really. Maybe a sleeping ghoul or two on the couch while something on the TV played, or just total darkness. What he wasn’t expecting was the total darkness to be broken by a single low light illuminating from the kitchen, a light that looked oddly like the fridge light.
He huffed quietly, a tired smile tugging at his face. A quick walk over and his questions were answered when he saw a lanky body squatting on the ground, arm and head resting on the fridge. If it weren’t for their tail running patterns into the floor’s tile, he’d think the little ghoul was asleep at the fridge.
“Aeon?” He whispered, loud enough to grab the small quint’s attention. They turned around in rapid timing, eyes wide and nearly panicked. He chuckled and walked further into the kitchen. “It’s okay, you’re not in trouble.”
They hummed and sat away from the fridge, letting it close and the light to leave. Aether fumbled in the dark to flip the oven light on.
“What’re you doing up so late, bug?” he crouched down next to them and tilted his head. They avoided his eyes and kept their own stuck on the tile.
“Was hungry…” they muttered, “I didn’t like what we had for dinner.”
“What did you guys have for dinner?” He asked.
“It was beef stew and potatoes.”
“I thought you liked beef stew?” Aether frowned slightly. They shrugged.
“I know…” they fell into themselves slightly, tail wrapping itself around their arm as a means of protection. “But something about it, just-”
“Hey, it’s okay.” Aether reached a hand out and rubbed their knee. “Why didn’t you tell them? They would’ve made you something else.”
“I…” they frowned to themselves, their lip in between their teeth. “I think I was scared.”
Aether nodded. “Okay, that’s okay.” He stood up with a groan and opened a cupboard, Aeon eyeing him warily as he did so. “I was going to make myself a sandwich, would you like one?”
When he got no response, he turned to see Aeon still staring, head now tilted.
“Aeon?” He called out. They blinked.
“What kind of sandwich?”
He smiled and continued to pull out the ingredients. “Peanut butter and banana, but I can make you something else.”
They let their tail unravel itself and stood on wobbly legs to slink to his side at the counter, eyes still wide in a mix of wonder and fear.
“That sounds okay.” they muttered.
He smiled and pulled out four slices of bread. “Awesome."
They stood in silence next to one another, Aeon’s eyes watching intently as Aether cut up a banana and scooped out peanut butter. Once he finished one he handed it over to the small quint, who took it with only a little hesitancy, before starting his own.
He took note how they only held the sandwich while he finished making his, eyes carefully eyeing between it and his hands. He set his now finished sandwich on the counter and began to clean up.
Aeon leaned against the oven, sandwich still in their hold, and Aether leaned against the counter. He picked up his own and was quick to take a bite into it, savoring the sweet and mildly salty flavors blooming in his mouth.
Aeon watched him eat before they blinked down to their own, hesitance clouding their eyes. Aether watched them patiently, took another bite out of his own, and smiled when they took their own bite.
They chewed slowly as they let their mouth explore the new textures and flavors. They swallowed quickly and with a renewed excitement and hunger, began chowing down. Their tail was thunking lightly against the tile floor, just loud enough for Aether to hear. He laughed into his sandwich.
“Can I have another one?” They asked, their cheek chipmunked.
“Finish that first and then we’ll see.” Aether chuckled with a nod.
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thebottomfromhell · 5 months
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Can i request uppermoons x GN reader baking with them for the first time? (fluff)
A very cute prompt! I will be using mostly Japanese desserts for this, I hope you don't mind. Also, some will be more fond with the kitchen than others, specially since none of these guys can eat human food. Still, I hope you like it.
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Uppermons baking with GN Human Reader for the first time
Warnings: Manga spoilers, Implied child prostitution, Sexism, Implied polyamory relationship (the clones) and Douma is his own warning.
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Gyutaro (ft. Daki):
Daki was a lot more enthousiastic with the idea than him, she already knows slightly about cooking, mostly because she needs to know about food when she recomends meals to clients, since she herself can't know what is good based on taste. Gyutaro is straight up ignorant with these things, he can't even recall having anything sweet or savoury in his human life, only the ghost of rice and the taste of rawness. He let's you and Daki decide what to do. "Let's do sakura mochi and matcha mochi!" He chothose oflavor due the color, but you are more than ok. In the end he is just making the Sakura pouder as you and Daki make the dough.
Still, he seems content by just looking at you both make fun, making most of it as you mix the cream with the respective powder to make the filling. Once the doughs and filling are done, it's you and Daki the ones that make the balls as Gyutaro starts cleaning everything after you both. "Are you sure you don't want to help us the the mochi? It's fun to get yout hands dirty with it." You offer but are denied. "Ne, I prefer cleaning up your mess. Not sure you would want my hands in something you will eat, ne." "Nah, I'm pretty sure your hands are safe." Daki lets a happy squeak as she finidhes her part, having a group of pink mochi, still giggling as she has been the whole process. "Onii-chan! Look! Don't they look good?"
And as Gyutaro has been the whole time, he smiles softly to both of you as he pats you haid and Daki's. "They look great, ne. Both of you are really talented. Y/N, ne, you might want to see how they taste. It would be a waste to throw them, ne." You smile cheekly before teasing. "How about you feed me, then?" He blushes and looks as if he wants to say something while looking away, but Daki interrupts. "NO! You can eat by your own! Onii-chan doesn't have to feed you as if you were a child!" She scolds you while going to grab her brothers arm, looking at you as a challenge. You only laught it off, seeing Gyutaro smile shyly before calming his sister down.
The mochi taste good, as sweat as the experience, but you made too much for yourself and the other too can't eat (Also the fact the texture is a bit off because you all were a bit careless with the measurements). But Gyutaro is right, it would be a waste to not eat them... If your tummy hurts after eating them all, it's a you problem.
Gyokko:
Gyokko is not into cooking, he admires culinary arts, but that is not for him. It took him some begging, a bit of annoying the shit out of him and A LOT of praising for him to accept. First thing Gyokko does is look at the recipe of taiyaki (it was one of his conditions to make it with you, so you were forced to get the fish mold) and then.. throws it away. "Ok, I got it. Now let's cook." He mostly makes you into an assistant, making you get the ingredients. "Don't worry darling, I will let you fry it, but I already lave the perfect image for this." He adds and mixes the ingredients mostly by instinct, and bieng fully aware you are the one who is going to be eating that, you fear for your life.
"Hey, Gyokko, love... are you sure you don't want me to get the cooking book again? I don't think those are the measurements we were instructed..." Gyokko only scoff as he keeps mixing the ingredients. "Of course not. How could a book know more that the wise eyes of an artist?" Yep, he is too much into himself, but... these are just pancakes ingredients, as long as you cook it well, it should not be harmful to you. After he finishes, Gyokko hands you the mix, it looks good, a nice color and texture, very clean, and he kisses the side of your face. "There you go."
Gyokko only looks at you as you pour the mix and the red bean paste into the oiled mold before you close it and heat it, unlike him, you make sure the fire and the time is the same as the book, keeping it a few seconds more, but no more than a minute, to make sure it cooks well. Once the time is up you open the mold to see the fish shape perfectly gold and toasted, and the smell was nice too. You decide to have a little bit more faith because of it, so you keep making more to use up all the mix while the frist one cools down. Still, Gyokko looks amused of how you keep turning to see the fish-shaped pancakes.
Then the moment of truth, the fear comes back the secong you take one taiyaki into your mouth, only to be surprised with a fluffy texture with the sweatness. It's... actually very good. "Gyokko... HOW?" He only laughs at your surprise. "Well, of course I would know, the eye of an artist is the best." You are torn into making cook more since he has a natural talent ot tell him to never do it again for the sake of not feeding his ego. Damned Gyokko, you think as you keep eating.
Hantengu:
To your surprise, Hantengu knows how to cook, so he happily complied into making some melonpan. He seemed to ignore you through the whole process, relaxing as he mixes the ingredients in a bowl without even looking at the recipe. He claims he holds some memories of cooking for the wives and children he had when he was human, nothing precise, but it's still there, like a muscle memory that has not left him fully, the same of the memory of hiding, of covering his face instinctly, a twitch in his hand meant for stabbing. He was old when he became a demon, unlike all the other Uppermoons, who did not live even half of the time he did as human, even the master was pretty young when he became the first demon. Unlike others, he managed to form habits as a human, and those habits would never die.
"You need to add more butter." You add yourself whenever the book says he is doing something wrong, not wanting to disturb the peace, enjoying the comforting silence. Usually, Hantengu´s frantic breathing, whines and even sobs don't let you enjoy time in silence with him, unless you are feeling sadistic and want to bully him, but this is relaxing. You also have your own bowl where you are making dough, mostly switching in between following the instructions on the book and following his lead. "Oh... right, tha-thank you..."
Besides that some corrections, you don't really talk to each other, but you are fine, making sure to make a lot since you are planning on sharing with friends and family, Hantengu shows no qualms on it. He can get jealous pretty easily, but he doesn't mind sharing as long as he has in in his reach (he will get insecure no matter what, so why make it hard for you and make you want to leave?). "Here hold it like this so you can cut it more easily." Is the only thing he says to you after you have the forms made, making the last details. He holds your wrists gently to guide the movements, being stables in contrast of the usual tremblings. Maybe, if it was not for his past and impulses, he would be better made for a simple life, a fake ilusion of safety.
You don't mind the new silence as the dough bake, but normalcy returns the second the bread is out of the oven. You take a bite to try it once the baked goods cool down, it has a nice texture, soft on the insides but with a slight crinch on top. You need to do it again, you think as you start hearing the whines and pants on the corner.
Hantengu Clones:
These guys are a disaster. For starters, Urogi got protective on the eggs, so you had to look for a recipe that didn't include them. So you are doing a sponge cheesecake, or well. Aizetsu is making a sponge cheesecake, following the recipe step by step, making sure the measurements and the order is correct, since he can't taste the mix to know if it's good or not with his demon tongue. Meanwhile Urogi is... taking care of the eggs, Sekido is supervising and complaining for everything that gets dirty in the process and Karaku is distracting you from getting your eggs back.
"C'mon love, you look so cute while making cake, but why don't you... relax a while. Urogi is not changing his mind and if you keep trying so hard you will get an ugly and unfixable frown in your face like Sekido." You want to complain, Urogi is perfectly fine with you eating chicken and any other type of meat, but the second you try to make something with eggs, that mind you are not that cheap to keep buying, he draws a line. Still, Sekido's growling voice rises up first. "THE FUCK YOU SAID ABOUT MY FACE, KARAKU?!" The anger clone goes directly to the pleasure, ready to start a fight in the kitchen, so the situation morphes into you trying to calm them down before they destroy the place with Urogi chanting "Fight! Fight! Fight! I bet a human leg on Sekido!"
""Mix vigorously until well combined", again? Why can I add all this ingredients at once instead of having to alternate?" Meanwhile Aizetsu is just ignoring you all for the sake of baking, fully concentrating on it. Which is good, at least some baking will be done with all the shenanigans going around. "Sekido, don't use the staff in my kitchen! NOT IN MY KITCHEN!" "You heard Y/N! Not in the kitchen! You wouldn't want to make a mess, would you?" "I'm gonna kill you, you bastard!" "Aren't we technically all from the same parents?" "SHUT THE FUCK UP, UROGI!" "SEKIDO, NO! HE STILL HAS MY EGGS!" "Put slowly the mix into a greased mold with a parchment paper..." Aizetsu knows batter than to care.
At least until the mixture goes to the ove, then he turns around and see you and Karaku holding Sekido, the secong bloodied from an attack the anger clone did on him, with Urogi laughings his ass off as he hold all your eges in his arms, threatening to fly as the wings would make a bigger mess. "Excuse, what is going on?" You all turn around and see him surprised, suddenly stopping as if you all had just being caught doing something wrong as those confused puppy eyes look at you all. "No, nothing Aizetsu. We should just start baking." Then he points up to the oven. "Actually, I already did everything. It should be done in 45 minutes." You look surprised, making you look around as Urogi congratulates Aizetsu, Karaku laughs and Sekido scoffs. "How?"
You are to one who tries the cake, obviously. It's perfectly done, step by step, so it's good, a bit less fluffy than you expected it to be by it's looks, but still good. "Sorry we left you doing all the work, Aizetsu." He shrugs. "I don't mind, it was relaxing. I could do it again."
Nakime:
Nakime always hated to do the chores, it was one of the she was the happiest when she became a demon with a power like hers. The castles sustainst itself, everything can be reformed, replaced, transformed and created, as long as she has her biwa and enough space in this unlimited ientnteional world. She didn't have to take care of a useless man that expected her to have the house clean and food on the table with the little money she made and he wasted like the air and space he took. She never thought she would ever step into a kitchen again, but of course...
"C'mon Nakime, pleeeeaase?" She hates you, how did you even manage to convince her? You are stubborn as hell. In the end she agrred to supervise and help (if you needed it) to the cooking... of a moon cake. You just wanted to make a moon cake and didn't know how to start, didn't you? In the end you manage to concince her to make the lotus paste, but she just watches as you do the dough and put the egg yolk inside of it, she guiding you through the process everytime you get lost on the recipe, she keeping the reading. The meal looks intimidating, but it's not so hard to make if instructed.
She doesn't speak through the whole process, but you keep smiling at her, grateful that she is here. "Now you only need to put it on the oven." Nakime uses her biwa to give you an pre-heated oven... sometimes you wish you could have her powers. In the wait, Nakime plays for you, it was not as bad as she remembered it, still she would never go back into cooking, specially now that she can't eat. Still, spending time with you made it a bit worth it, not that she will let you do this more often, her days as a housewife were long gone even before she became a demon.
"Is it good?" Nakime asks the second you give it a try, seeing how happy the first bite made you, she knew it was, but still was amused so she decided to ask, only for you to vocalize it. "It's very good!" That is good enough.
Akaza:
Akaza was unsure at first, a part of him felt like being in the kitchen was natural, since he inmediately knew how to get the ingredients for a sweet, getting the eggs for a datemaki. Even if the kitchen of a Taisho era was slightly different, he got into it too easily, but also... "Why are you making sweet rolled omelette?" You asked him when you realized he was set on doing it, not even needing to look at the recipe book. You know it's a sweet form the Edo period, when Akaza was human, but the fact that. he went straight to make it still felt odd. "You like it, don't you? I made it several tim-" He stops in his tracks, pausing a moment before just concentrating in cooking.
He let you help and guided you through the making of the mixture, showing you hoe he makes it. He pours a lot of care into it, knowing by muscle memory how much to add of everything, moving smoothly as he let's you handle it for whiles before taking the lead once again, making sure to praise you constantly. "Yes, just like that. I will pre-heat the oven. I know you can handle it for a bit, you are doing great." He is gentle and soft, looking a bit... sad. He can't remember, but he used to make these for Koyuki while she was sick, having to learn from scratch as Keizo didn't know how to cook but the girl told him her mother used to make them for her. It's important to make them right, for her to feel home the same way he did around her, he wants you to feel home, to feel your own life, when you try it.
He still praises you, carresing your face softly as you both wait for it to heat up, gently urging you to seat down, setting the table in front of you as he moves back and forward to check that it hasn't burnt. He treats you like this sometimes, as if you needed to be taken care of, and even like this he doesn't stop. Still, you can see that, even if he is worried, nostalgic and melancholic... he smiles towards you, happy to be sharing this. Koyuki also came to help him to the kitchen once she felt better, he taught her how to cook, this meal included, but the first times it was too much effort to her and the heat of the oven made her head hurt, so Hakuji always made sure for her to rest with some tea while he finished cooking. "Here, have some tea. Relax."
He serves you a healthy amount, not too much, not too little, and gently reminds you he can serve you more if you want but you also don't have to eat it all if you can't. The brownish colour of the outside contrast slightly the yellow of the thes of the roll, you take a bite and... it's delicious. There is something of it that, while the texture and taste can't make it the best thing you have ever ate, could still become your favorite. It's comforting, warm, peaceful. You look at Akaza, who smiles softly at you when you also smile. "I love it! You are a very good cook." He laughs a little, clearly happy. "You think so? Maybe I should start cooking for you, then." He teases, and you both wish you could stay like this forever.
Douma:
As you might have guessed, this is the first time Douma has ever stepped into a kitchen in his long, long life. "Oh! So this is how the kitchen look. I always thought they would be more messy!" His follower try urging him to get back to his room, to the gardens, to the corriders, anywhere but the kitchen. Some even look at you as if you insulted their family name and every grave that shares it, because none of them liked the idea of Douma cooking. To some it was because of Douma's status, why should he cook when people should be serving him and filling his basic needs? To have the god's messenger doing the maid's job, what an insult! Others... well...
Other knew Douma's true character, that he would definetely set something on fire only for the sake of it. You knew that, so you decided to just try and make yokan, since it doesn't requiere cooking. At that, the rest of the followers calmed down and gave up on taking the "Great Founder" out. What could they do against his wishes? Some stayed in case anything happens. Nothing wrong at first, deiding to go for a sweet potato flavor for some and matche yonkos for the other. The kitchen had already everything you needed to make those sweets, most kids of the followers enjoy it. Douma remembers Kotoha asking for the types of foods her son would be allowed to eat, and he promised anything he wanted. For you, he had the same reaction.
It was a simple recipe, the kenten did most of it, if not all. Everything else was watching out for the temperature of the water and mix it until it fuses. Very easy, and int Douma's mind, very boring. Maybe you should have seen it coming, staying safe was never part of his main interests, not when basically nothing can really hurt him. Physical pain? With how fast it heals it's barely a sting to keep the adrenaline and endorphins running. Emotional pain? Never heard of it. Mental pain? Why? He is above any type of problem both demons and humans could have. So exploding the kitchen on purpose the second you got up to speak to another follower because of the insistence that you were violating the cooking shift... was a must.
"DOUMA WHAT THE FUCK?!" You screamed on top of your lungs as his wounds healed, having him laughing it off carelessly, clearly amused by your reacting as every cell is replaced with a new and yourger one from the master's blood. "Oops, guess this things happen when you don't know what you are doing. So sorry about it, I swear it was an accident." What a liar. Needless to say, nobody got any yokan at all.
Kokushibou:
... Kokushibou doesn't cook, doesn't bake, that was his wife's and the maid's job, once it was his mother's and, again, the maid's job, not his. Desserts are included in this, his wife used to make him sweets at the first year of their marriage, but he constantly rejected them so she stopped. He was never into sweets, never ate them since anytime he was given one he wuold give it to his brother, even if that gained a scolding or a beating, so he never developed a taste for them. So the second you asked him to bake something with you his answer was a long stare before leaving you alone, speeding up when you went after him.
Really, you only managed to get him to stay in the kitchen while you made Dorayaki, something simple and traditional, By his point of view, staying didn't really make sense to Kokushibou. He doesn't know how to cook, it's not interested in doing the "woman's job in the house" and he can't even taste anything you make, not that he would if he could, but still. Part of him is tempted to leave now that your attention is not on him, but he just... stays, looking at you. You seem content doing this, and he can't really understand why. How can you be contenct with something so simple while all his life he was chasing a figure that was as godly as it was close from the womb? How can you be satisfied doing these kind of things when others have powers beyond a human should have, being in the blood or lungs?
He just looks at you, the silence being comforting and peaceful, almost like meditating as he looks at you mixing the ingredients, humming a bit sometimes only to focus again on your task. This is so... other, for him. He has never belonged to the kitchen and never planned to, so he couldn't understand anything. Specially why do you find his presence peaceful and comforting too. You only start frying the pancakes the second you talk to Kokushibou again. "Maybe next time you can join in." You tease before looking at him with a smirk. He si definetely not falling for it, so you just finish and serve yourself.
The pancakes were fine, as good as anything you can make, nothing bad but also nothing beyond your abilities. Still, Kokushibou's next words made the dish even sweeter. "I will clean, you enjoy the meal." He knows more or leass how to do it, and he doesn't think it can be that hard. Even if this is the only way he is filling to interact with the activity, you are happy he is willing to get outside his comfort zone for your sake. "Thank you, Kokushibou. I appreciate it." He blushes slightly, nods, cleans the kitchen and leaves the house without saying anything the second the sun is down... now, if only he wasn't so shy and petty...
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