tags! — size kink is strong in this one, implied power inbalance, teasing, poly relationship, oral ( -> reader, buddha), cum eating, pet names, glove kink, slight gagging because qin shi huang is demanding, emperor kink (yes, you read it right) — wc: 2.3k
REBLOGS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED!
It’s the way you always seem to be so comfortable around the most dangerous and volatile gods that ever existed that catches everyone’s attention. Despite being a mere human your walk is steady, unfaltering. Your chin is up, hair flowing with the wind.
No one can intimidate you, not even all the pantheons combined. And everybody knows why.
You never bend the knee to any god, not even to Hades himself, who has the (dis)pleasure of meeting you today. His silver hair grazes- no, cuts your skin as you walk past him in one of the many corridors running underneath the arena. And his locks aren’t the only thing tearing you open.
The air is thick with tension and thirst for battle, but the god catches a glimpse of a smirk on your beautiful face and he furrows his brow in amusement.
What goes on in your mortal head is a secret only two gods have both the curse and blessing of knowing.
The fact you haven’t acknowledged his existence as the divine etiquette commands, however, erases every sympathy or interest Hades might still feel in your regards.
“Human girl.” his voice carries the faintest nuance of annoyance as he bores a hole in your back, still turned to him. You stop, only to glare at him from above your bare shoulder. He matters nothing, as if he’s just a human passerby who deserves nothing but to be quickly glanced at.
What really sets him off is your tone, veiled with defiance and a dash of humour as you coo:
“Hello, Hades.”
Such arrogance cannot go unpunished.
The King of the Netherworld raises a hand in your direction, bident already materialising out of thin air as you only but stare at him, unfazed, when a swirl of hot wind envelops your body and you close your eyes out of instinct.
A hearty laugh follows the moment just as your nostrils catch the aroma of candies fluttering all around you. Then, as your eyes open once more you feel the larger, stronger body of a god pressed against your front. You tilt your head up to meet Buddha’s enthralled gaze and his hands wrap around your hips immediately when his attention shifts to someone behind you.
Because another deity has your back — literally.
“And you didn’t want to intervene, huh? Whatcha have to say now, Ying Zheng?”
“Shut up.”
“That’s my line, idiot.”
The little skirmish between the two doesn’t affect Hades in the slightest, rather his gaze grows colder as he watches you stand on your tiptoes to leave a kiss on Buddha’s cheek. The god smirks at that, and before he can do the same, the stingy kiss of metal graces your exposed nape and the intricate details of Qin Shi Huang’s nail guards imprint their patterns on your skin, making you pant softly. He doesn’t do so in a menacing way, not at all.
Not yet, at least.
The two Kings stare at each other while Buddha finally takes full possession of your lower back. His hands are kneading your flesh when his attention drifts to Hades, his eyes still transfixed on your now relaxed form in Buddha’s arms. And an idea strokes his mind.
“Hey, Ying Zheng. Don’t ya think he is staring at our girl a bit too much? What is it?
Wanting to have a piece of her so bad that you can’t even look away from us? What would your wife say about your antics, Hades?” is what the deity lets out in the open shamelessly. He’ll be the first one to cast the first stone, and he knows for a fact that his partner will catch up right away.
And Qin Shi Huang does catch up, going even beyond Buddha’s wildest expectations. The King tilts his head towards Hades, blindfold covering his death stare as he chuckles in the sweetest of tones, smiling from ear to ear.
Because if there’s one thing the monarch hates the most is to share his beloved lover with others. Buddha is the only exception, for he transcends the boundaries between humankind and the divine.
“Is that so?” his words cut through the noises of your heart fluttering against your rib cage. Despite his saccharine smile and the little circles he’s drawing on your body, Ying Zheng is not to be messed with right now. He’s boiling with rage.
But what throws you off the most is Hades’ response. His gaze never leaves Qin Shi Huang’s as he steps forward, coming close enough to inhale the scent of you laced with the two gods’.
His smile is as sharp as a knife when he walks past Ying Zheng and you, stopping in his tracks once his shoulder brushes Buddha’s chest. Then his voice glides on you like molasses.
“My wife knows I love her dearly. But from time to time, we both love to explore new territories, meet new people, perhaps. What about you?”
He’s not talking to your partners, and you immediately turn and give him a genuine smile.
“If you put that nasty attitude of yours to rest for a night, I might consider it.”
Hades walks away at that, not before shooting the other gods a meaningful look Ying Zheng takes in with gritted teeth. Buddha, on the other hand, decides to tilt your head up and force you to stare into his eyes as he whispers, “Let’s fuck your attitude out of you, first. You’re with me, King of Men?”
A low hiss follows Buddha’s words. “Always.”
You’re in big trouble.
A large palm cups the side of your face, the warmth of it radiating onto your burning skin. You look up and sigh as the man finally gets a glimpse of your glassy eyes, of your hollowed cheeks when you moan around his cock, head bobbing up and down to fully take him in your mouth. It’s impossible, given his girth, so you resort to wrapping your fingers around the base.
What can’t fit in your throat will be loved in another way.
“What a sight for sore eyes you are.” Buddha’s tone is gentle but hoarse around the edges when he punctuates the last two words with a teasing thrust in your mouth. But it’s your widened eyes, laced with needy sobs and your hand pumping him to completion, that encourage him to do it again two, three times. He stares into your soul as you take each and every movement of his with little whimpers, stroking and licking and sucking his dick without faltering.
Well, until you pull away.
Buddha raises an eyebrow at that, but does nothing until he sees your pretty lips stretch in a sinful smile. And with that, they’re on him again, this time pressing soft kisses on the vein running along his shaft, your tongue coming out to play when you swirl it around his flushed tip.
His hand on your cheek flies to hover over your nape and push your nose flat against his cock. “Do it again, and I’ll cum all over your face, petal.”
You flash him a grin through lidded eyes. “I hope it’s a promise and not a threa-
Fuck me.”
Another man’s voice soothes your ears, only to stop when he stares at Buddha from behind your body. “I am. But it’s not easy when you move so much.
Stay still, or I will force you to.”
Back arched and on all fours between him and Buddha, it’s no problem for the King of Men to tongue your folds one last time, but he sighs when you buck your hips towards him, eager to feel his lips on you. You never learn.
“Very well.”
A soft thud follows the man’s words and for the briefest of moments, the silkyness of the blindfold he wears brushes your legs. So, for his eyes are not veiled by the piece of fabric anymore, you can feel their pearly, piercing hue caress your skin as they go up. The King tilts his head in the other man’s direction and the grip on your hips vanishes altogether. Startled, you look at Buddha to understand what’s going on. However, the deity shots you a sly smirk, and you break out in a loud whimper.
Yes, you’re utterly fucked.
None of them give you time to voice your confusion, because the first one to move is Buddha himself. Rather, his hand on your neck does.
All to have your face squished against his pelvis, lips still pressed on his erection, as he strokes your hair oh-so gently when he comes on your face in thick, hot spurts. Chuckles echoing his, you lick every drop Buddha gifts you with and his long, minty-hued locks shield you both from the other man’s eyes when he draws back and stoops lower to give you a kiss. A groan escapes him when he tastes himself on your tongue, but he doesn’t stop to stroke his on yours until you are suddenly pulled up by another pair of hands.
“Ying Zhen-”
The King tuts in your ear, and you almost pass out on the spot the moment you’re on your knees on the bed like him, back against his chest while his hands wander on your body again. His muscles flex and relax languidly behind you, and the itchiness of his breath on you… oh.
“I’m not Ying Zheng for you today.
Try again”, his voice betrays nothing of the fire burning within him as the index, middle and ring fingers of his left hand inch closer to your throbbing core. Waves upon waves of arousal wet them while his right hand, now sneaking up your throat, comes to rest on your chin.
“Open your mouth.”
That sight alone, with your head thrown back on the King’s broad shoulder as you oblige, makes Buddha twitch in anticipation, his dick not so spent anymore. It’s almost too much for him to handle, to see the two of you engaging in such debauched acts in front of him.
But to see you stretch out a hand to lure him closer to see the mess between your legs? To sense the King’s crave for you to crumble and for Buddha to watch as he does so?
His dark orbs meet the King’s again as your own roll in the back of the head when Qin Shi Huang’s nail guards pass through your parted lips to graze your tongue, still coated in Buddha’s cum.
A long string of incoherent sounds come out of your throat, your taste buds having a short-circuit at the taste of metallic, sharp kiss of the nail guards mixing with Buddha’s semen in your mouth.
“Ah, my Kin-”
Qin Shi Huang scoffs, cutting you off again. His left hand’s nail guards curl inward to rub themselves on your pussy.
Fast. Hard, but careful not to scratch your most sensitive spot with their sharpness.
“Wrong again. Come on, you can do better than that. Don’t make me repeat myself”, you gag around his fingers as he pushes himself deeper and you mewl, desperate to have him satisfied enough to satisfy you.
“Who am I to you today?” he asks once again.
You anchor yourself to Buddha’s hand engulfing yours, squeezing it as you meekly reply, defeated: “My Emperor.”
“I didn’t hear you. Are my fingers that much of a hindrance to you?”
Before he can tumble them off your tongue, you slightly turn your head to give him a full view of the saliva dripping down his fingers buried in your throat, then your eyes are finally meeting him.
It’s the look on your face that throws him into the deepest misery known to humankind. You’re so full of love for him and Buddha that you’d do anything for them.
Your little laugh is low but sultry all the same when you repeat the epitome, this time circling the King’s fingers with your tongue. The vibrations go straight to his cock, but it’s the way you press yourself against his fingers teasing your pussy that brings Buddha to curse out loud.
Qin Shi Huang’s tendons snap under the skin, dick poking your lower back as he motions for Buddha to come even closer, to see with his godly eyes what certainly is not.
Both men are ogling shamelessly at your heaving chest, breasts bouncing with every breath of yours, when your neediness gets the best of you and your other hand flies to grab Qin Shi Huang’s hair.
You are so majestic, more than Ying Zheng or Buddha could ever be.
Now that he’s buried so deep inside both your holes, the King lets out nothing but a strained growl as you keep stroking his fingers with your warmth, especially your velvety walls that are so desperately trying to swallow his whole hand.
“My petal.”
Buddha turns your face towards him by the chin and watches as you unravel under his and Ying Zheng’s joint touch.
“Keep sucking his fingers the way you did with my cock. Tear him apart.”
A curt gasp escapes the King. It's outrageous for him to be treated this way. “Buddha, how dare y-”
“Oh, shut up. We all know you got a lil soft spot for our precious petal here.” the deity retorts, and despite the fullness of your mouth, Buddha catches a glimpse of a wicked smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you moan around Qin Shi Huang.
Cramped as you are between them, it really feels as if you shoved open Heaven’s Gate with a hand to be their own personal, soul-snatching goddess.
Next time Hades might join the dances, who knows. Either way, you're more than ready to oblige every caprice of your favourite gods if it means to be a menace to Zeus himself.
My partner and I cancelled our Adobe accounts today because of this. Imagine if makers of physical art media had the right to pilfer your sketchbooks because you used their pencils and paints. That’s basically what Adobe is trying to foist on everyone.
For the record, some of those can be real natural fiber fabrics. China silk, jersey knit, broadcloth, flannel, sateen, and taffeta are weaves of fabric, not fibers themselves. Fleece can be a form of wool, too. I have a skirt made out of wool flannel and evening gowns made out of silk taffeta. I lined my winter coat with 100% silk habotai a.k.a. china silk. My favorite sheets are made out of cotton sateen. Etc.
And I think part of the issue is that people are often just… Not taught about fabrics anymore. a lot of the terminology has completely gone by the wayside and we don’t know how to recognize different fibers (or, as seen above, know the difference between a term for a fiber and a weave). I research 19th century clothing and textiles as part of my job, and there are terms even I can’t fit to a certain weave or fiber in my mind. Just the number of different types of natural fiber textiles that used to be in people’s lives is absolutely mind-boggling considering that now it’s all just different forms of plastic 99% of the time
People don’t stand up and demand better because they simply don’t know another way, most of the time. And that’s so sad
a/n - my first One Piece fic. absolutely terrifying but definitely a needed change of scenario to get out of my writing block. please be kind; I'm taking all my inspo from the live-action as that is what I am currently the most familiar with. but, well, we just have to see how it goes. bon appetite
Shoutout to my dear @mydearzero for encouraging my newfound obsession with this show and this character, as well as generally encouraging me to write. this is all your fault. And to everyone else who had been expecting me to finally post one of the other million fics I had promised... I'm sorry
And kind reminder that reblogs is what makes tumblr work. Please, if you enjoyed the story, reblog
word count: 9.9k
warning: 18+ only. MDNI. smut. piv sex. oral sex (f!receiving). unprotected sex [wrap up your eggplants yall]. semi-public sex. several FDA regulation code breaks, probably. afab reader. swearing. little bit of angst. shitty and fat-shaming [oc!]boyfriend/date. fist fight. alcohol consumption.
“Look at your waiter's face. He knows. It's another reason to be polite to your waiter; he could save your life with a raised eyebrow or a sigh.”
― Anthony Bourdain,
The first thing you saw was the red, bright sign spelling out the restaurant's name.
Baratie. You had no clue what it meant but could only hope that “the best restaurant in the East Blue” was somewhere down the list of its definitions, especially after the months that they had kept you on the waiting list and the tumultuous trip that it took to sail there. Next, as your ship approached, you saw the… fish head. The sight of the sculpture at the front of the ship structure buried some worry in the pit of your stomach, but surely, if so many people had given it such fond reviews, the exterior was not to speak for what awaited you inside.
‘Believe me, baby, you’ll love it here.’
‘I really hope so,’ you smiled as you got off your boat. Your legs shook at the knee as you stepped onto the sturdy dock planks. Days at sea, which had never been your friend, had clearly done more damage than you expected. You would have been on the floor if it wasn’t for the pair of arms holding on to you.
‘Thanks, Chosi,’ you said towards your boyfriend as he helped you steadily get back onto your feet.
‘Can’t have you faceplant the second we get here,’ he brushed some invisible dust off your shoulder, and with his arm entwined with yours, he led you to the entrance of the establishment. You grabbed at the skirt of your dress to keep it down as the wind blew by.
As you walked, you looked at all the other ships harboured on the… was this an island? Was the entirety just one large ship? Was it anchored to something then, or was it drifting around the seas constantly? You couldn’t quite comprehend the logistics of it all. But you could tell that humans and other creatures of all walks of life–royalty, commoners, marines, pirates—were unbothered by each other's presence and enjoying the outing. Once inside, the shushed sound of the waves was exchanged for a whisper of swing music, as well as the chatter of the restaurant’s patrons and the clinking of their cutlery on plates. The walls were lined in crimson wallpaper as well as painted depictions of sea battles, accented in gold and bronze details matching the furniture placed spaciously around the room and the two stories above it that lead the eye to a beautiful aquamarine ceiling that gave the illusion as if one was looking up at the bright sky from underwater.
The maitre’d, a Fishman, stood to attention at your entrance.
‘Good afternoon, how may I help you?’ he asked kindly.
‘We have a reservation. Name is Chosi,’ Chosi stated with his head held high. Despite you doubting that anyone knew his name in these parts of the world, he never ceased to pronounce it with a level of expectation to it. It was commendable, as well as disappointing, when nothing happened afterwards. The maitre’d simply nodded and glanced down at his long list of names, searching for the one he had just heard, ready to cross it off.
‘Ah, yes, right here. Please, do follow me to your table.’ And so, you did just that, walking down the grand staircase onto the restaurant's main floor, where you seated at one of the smaller tables, perfect for a romantic dinner for two. ‘Your waiter will be right with you.’ The Fishman bid you farewell just like that and returned to his position at the door.
‘So?’ Chosi looked at you with a raised brow as you looked around.
‘It is quite stunning.’ You must admit that you did not expect this kind of splendour when looking at the carved fish that gaped at you outside. Something about that just did not exude the same essence as the timeless and classy beauty of the interior. You barely even felt the shake of the waves beneath you.
Maybe your response wasn’t sufficient, for Chosi had opened his mouth to respond, something in the angles of his face announcing displeasure, but he was interrupted by a new presence at your table. You looked up at the tall figure towering over you.
‘Welcome,’ the man spoke, his accent clearly indicating his origin if only you had been aware of where that was. Simultaneously, he put down a plate of bread rolls, perfectly and meticulously positioned atop it. ‘...to Baratie. My name is Sanji; I will be your waiter this afternoon.’
‘Took you long enough.’ Chosi mumbled under his breath, giving you an immense urge to kick him underneath the table, but you knew better than to do that, especially when he did not seem to be ready to stop any time soon. ‘Trying to convince my girl this place is worth visiting, heh.’ You could feel your cheeks burning up in embarrassment. Nevertheless, the waiter—Sanji, he said was his name—did not seem to give the comment much thought as he looked down at you with a curve to his thin-lined lips.
‘My apologies, madame; I hope my service will not give you the false impression of this establishment being worth any of your precious time.’ The smoothness of his voice almost concealed the true meaning behind his speech, leaving you, as well as your date, speechless. However, you felt your speaking ability to be taken away by more than just his words as you spared a second to take your waiter in properly. You just could not help but notice how his suit wrapped around his arms, and although one was covered by his blonde hair, his eyes had a glint of something that excited you despite not even knowing the root of that excitement.
Like nothing had happened, Sanji continued, ‘Would you care to see the menu? Hear the specials?’ That is when you noticed the menu cards he was holding in his hand. And he must have been ready to list the special items, but Chosi was a step ahead.
‘Actually, I think we are ready to order.’ That was the first you had heard of it, but you stayed put as he continued. After all, Chosi had eaten here before. He knew what was good, and you could trust his judgement.
‘Prime rib, medium rare,’ as your boyfriend spoke, you kept your eye on the waiter, noticing the appearance of the smallest of flinches in his face at the sound of the dish, but never faltering his picture-perfect appearance, ‘and my lady will have the salad.’
Another twitch, right below his visible eyes, followed, but Sanji’s professional facade stayed on as he inquired: ‘We offer quite a variety of salads; which would madame prefer?’ And with that, he turned to you, that smile plastered on like a sticker, but he had trouble keeping it on as the answer to his question did not come from your mouth.
‘Whichever is the best, of course.’ Chosi rolled his eyes, and you wished you could do so as well. The waiter glanced between you and him, turning back to you momentarily. Long enough for you to give him a reassuring smile. It would be in everyone’s best interest if he just moved on from the matter.
‘Drinks, then,’ Sanji again spoke with an unphased essence about him, as if nothing from the past few minutes had ever occurred, or at least tried to emulate this. ‘Madam, anything I can get you?’ The way he emphasised that word didn’t require any pointed glares.
‘Uhm,’ you hesitated as he kept his full attention on you, completely ignoring the man sitting opposite you at the table, making Chosi stare at you just as, if not more, intensely, for all the opposite reasons. Out of panic, you just blurted out the most straightforward order. ‘Just water, thank you.’ It being the first words you said in the waiter's presence, they came out soft. Nothing like your regular voice, which startled you slightly.
‘Still, sparkling or mineral?’ Sanji pursued.
‘Still please,’ you smiled shyly, unsure where that actual shyness derived from.
‘Ice? Cubed or crushed?’ He fired the questions at a rapid pace.
‘A bit of ice is fine. Thank you,’ you repeated yourself, looking down at the table and letting the waiter move on to the rest of the order. He didn’t say anything else but looked at Chosi with anticipation.
‘I’ll have your finest brew.’
‘Coming up,’ his voice had a sudden coldness to it as he walked away, back to the kitchen, leaving the table to a thick silence.
‘I could have ordered for myself, you know,’ you said, with that same soft tone you had spoken with earlier, although this felt much more familiar seeing who you talked to.
‘And have you stuff yourself with some useless carbs? C’mon, you know I’m just looking out for you, here.’
‘I know.’ You straightened out a fork in front of you, suddenly feeling uneasy at how far away from the plate it was positioned compared to the knife on the opposite side. You were straightening out a crease in the tablecloth when Sanji returned with a silver tray in one hand. He placed the pint glass full of golden brew in front of Chosi before turning your way and setting a glass beside your plate. With a pair of tongs, one by one, he let ice cubes fall to the bottom of it, the clinking against the glass almost deafening. Then, he followed up with another pair of tongs and reached for a little tray but stopped himself to ask you: ‘Care for a slice of lemon, madame?’
‘Oh, uhm, sure,’ you shrugged, unable to look away. This process of pouring a glass of water felt rather extensive, but you could not deny the fact you were enjoying it all. As he grabbed the large pitcher to pour the water, you were unsure how he had carried all of these items with one hand and did so seemingly effortlessly.
‘There we go,’ he smiled, ‘your food will be with you shortly, but do let me know if you require anything else.’ And just like that, he was gone again, but not without leaving you feeling that he had meant his parting words especially for you and that that sentiment had undoubtedly not escaped your date.
‘I don’t like the look of that guy.’ Chosi glared at you as he took a sip from his pint, slurping up the top layer of foam with it.
‘I think he’s quite sweet.’ You straightened out the fork again and reached for a bread roll to tear it apart piece by piece.
‘Of course you would,’ he rolled his eyes, which made you look up from your little snack.
‘What is that supposed to mean?’ You put the bread roll down as the pit in your stomach hollowed out your appetite. Right, making space for that damn salad.
‘Nothing.’ Chosi shrugged, ‘Just that it's typical that somehow I’m the only one to notice when some guy is trying to cop a feel.’
‘He was doing no such thing.’ You had to bite your tongue not to raise your voice as his insinuation, despite being on the waiter's actions, seemed to be brutally judging yourself. ‘The poor guy is just doing his job. I’m not bothered by it, and neither should you be.’ Usually, you would attach some sweet nickname at the end of that sentence, but this was one too many times you had said a variant of the confirmation, and you were growing tired of just the thought of it.
Somewhere in the distance, a table erupted into a shouting match that had to be broken up by a handful of waiters. While usually, you turned away from such brutalities, never having been fond of violence and not particularly having a necessity in seeing people getting their teeth punched out minutes before eating a meal, this time you stretched your neck out to glance across the room, secretly hoping to catch a glimpse of the white-blonde hair among the rousing heads. Someone had pulled a pistol, but the weapon was kicked out of the man's grip before they could shoot or even alarm people enough to hide beneath their tables. Just like that, the restaurant resumed its normal state of pleasantries, and you got back to your abysmal date and hoped it was still worth saving… or that saving was still even an option to begin with.
‘From what you had told me about the place, Chi, it is much grander than I had expected.’ You smiled, and he nodded to your affirmations.
‘Well, I didn’t want to raise the expectations too high, but you know I don’t do anything but the best for you, sweet cheeks.’
‘Of course—’ you were interrupted by the footsteps nearing your table, and the weight nearly lifted off your shoulders at the sight of Sanji carrying too large plates.
‘Hello there,’ he grinned slyly, ‘hope I don’t interrupt anythin’.’
‘Not at all,’ You moved your glass aside to make space for your dish, but Sanji put Chosi’s plate down first, announcing the food.
‘Prime rib, medium rare, for the gentleman.’ Like everything else, he precisely placed it so the gold details on the plate faced the diner exactly right. The roast glistened in the restaurant's dim light, and the smell hit you right at the nerves that reminded you of your hunger. But that was for the gentleman, and the gentleman had ordered for you the—
‘And for the madame,’ Sanji put a plate in front of you, ‘what I like to call the Sanji Special.’
You looked down at your plate of food with a stunned expression and then looked back up. Just in time, you caught the slight wink that your waiter had sent you before stepping back to then, with a nod, say, ‘Bon appetite.’
He got to take about three steps and had just turned his back towards your table when Chosi called out to him, clearing his throat. ‘Ehem, excuse me, Sonny.’
‘Is there a problem?’ Sanji returned with his hands behind his back, but you didn’t need to see his fists to know he was clenching them. It was all visible in the strain of his upper arms and jaw as he restrained himself to keep up a polite smile.
‘I am pretty sure we had ordered a salad?’ Chosi tried to play it off with a casual laugh, but it turned out to be anything but. Sanji leaned forward to grab the plate, but then your boyfriend exclaimed, ‘No, not for me; for her.’ before the waiter got his hand on his prime rib.
With a satisfied smile, Sanji glanced at your plate and stated: ‘That is a salad.’
Not that you did not appreciate what was in front of you, but if it was a salad, it was the loosest interpretation of the definition possible. You had to keep your laugh in as he explained that the dish was a “twist on kensui salad with steamed components, egg, and pork” or, in your simpler terms… the most delicious-looking pot of ramen you had ever encountered in your life, but no, definitely not a salad in the traditional sense. You smiled at the food, not daring to look up at Sanji while your boyfriend’s head seemed to be boiling alive, but the waiter was a step ahead of you.
‘Ah, almost forgot, for the lady,’ almost out of nowhere, he made a pair of chopsticks appear for you.
‘She will not be eating that,’ Chosi grunted.
‘I think that is for her to decide,’ Sanji didn’t even bother to look at him, keeping his sweet smile on you, which, in turn, rushed a hot flush over your cheeks.
‘Chosi, don’t be like that; this looks delicious.’ You spoke, hoping he would calm down and let you finally sink your teeth into this gorgeous meal. After a tense second, Chosi finally huffed out and sank back down in his chair, making you realise he had been on the verge of getting up for whatever reason. Either way, his intentions could not have been good. In the meantime, Sanji excused himself once more to finally leave you to eat.
You had perhaps taken half a bite when Chosi, his food untouched, spoke up again. ‘Why do you always do this?’
‘Do what?’ your throat tightened around the pork you had just swallowed.
‘Embarrass me like that?’ He sighed, a vein in his forehead looking more prominent than ever.
‘I didn’t—’
‘Cut the shit, you know what you’re doing.’ Chosi slammed his fist on the table, startling you and the few people sitting at the nearest tables to you.
‘Please, can we not do this now,’ you kept your head down, ignoring all the pairs of eyes that must have started catching on to what was happening. Chosi had turned red from anger by that point.
‘What, am I being too much for you? Imagine what it’s like going out with a slut—’
‘Chosi!’ you snapped, immediately covering your face with your hand as if you had not meant to shout and grab the attention of even more people.
Deep breath in.
Out.
‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ You hissed at the man across the table from you.
‘With me? You’re the one that has been eyefucking the waiter this whole time, and now you disrespected me like that in front of him? Do I mean so little to you?’
‘I did no such thing.’ You rolled your eyes, catching glimpses of the room you were in. The people that sat around, the employees. Of course, Sanji stood only a few tables away, taking an order. Could he hear what was happening? Most likely, the idea of that burned you in a new, much more unpleasant manner. Chosi must have said something, but you had been too occupied by your surroundings and too tired to even listen to what other vile things he had to tell you. The only thing that kept you at that table was the food, but no matter how good, it wasn’t worth enduring him. ‘You know what,’ you grabbed your napkin and slapped it onto the table, ‘I can’t do this right now. I’ll see you on the boat.’ The chair shrieked as you shoved it back.
‘Where the hell do you think you’re going,’ Chosi growled practically, and despite you having already turned your back to him, you heard his own chair scrape the deck floor. You had your eyes squeezed shut as you got ready for what was coming. He reached out, but nothing happened.
You looked over your shoulder to see Sanji pulling Chosi in by the sleeve.
‘Believe me, we don’t wanna do that, mate.’ Sanji said, his eyes filled with a new rage that made you take a step back.
‘Let go of me, you sleaze.’ Chosi suddenly reminded you of a feral kitten, how he tried to wriggle himself out of the waiter’s grip. ‘I’ll make you regret ever touching me. Do you know who I am?’
‘Do I look like I give a shit?’ he let go with a laugh, almost pushing Chosi to the ground. As your date dusted off his sleeves, Sanji took a step forward, pressing himself against him. Now that both men were standing face to face, did you only realise how much taller Sanji was than your boyfriend. How much bigger and, most likely, how much stronger. With a hushed and reserved tone yet somehow full of intimidation, the waiter said, ‘Don’t you ever try to touch or speak to a woman like that again, you hear me? Or I’ll make you regret you were ever born.’
Chosi could only nod with his eyes blown wide open. The restaurant was dead quiet, unable to pull their eyes away from the scene unfolding before them. No one said anything or moved, and yet, somewhere, a stack of plates fell. The crash of porcelain echoed through the space, and Sanji turned his attention toward the kitchen’s double doors for a second. That quick moment was enough for Chosi to find his moment and attack.
Or at least make an attempt at it.
Sanji was still looking toward the kitchen, and Chosi’s fist was in mid-air, but the waiter flawlessly manoeuvred around it, swinging himself back and letting Chosi fall forward. To make matters worse, Sanji supplemented the fall by kicking him over. If it wasn’t for the fact that your boyfriend’s chin had smacked against the table, you would have missed the entire thing, as Sanji’s movements were so elegant that it seemed as if he had not moved at all. He might as well have been refilling your water, ignorant of the groaning mess of a man he had kicked down to the ground with such ease.
Chosi got up shakily. A nasty cut was already dripping blood from the underside of his face, but the redness didn’t compare to the rage on his face. He looked around until his eyes caught yours. ‘What, you’re just gonna stand there like some dumb–’
‘What did I just say?’ Sanji said, this time much louder, not trying to hide the row from the rest of the diners. But before he could make another move, Chosi reached for the nearest thing he could reach, which in his case was your dish of ramen, and threw a fistful of noodles Sanji’s way, hitting him square in the chest.
Silence.
He must have been too stunned at the audacious strike to move out of the way for it. Everyone must have been watching the noodles unstick from his navy jacket and slowly fall to the ground, then watched as Sanji raised his head back up, his expression unamused and cold, but his eyes filled with a passionate and furious fire. One that was enough to live up to the promise he had made the man you had come to the restaurant with. And so, just like that, without another word needing to be said by anyone, you watched Chosi back away—one, two, three steps, whimpering and mumbling some comments that could almost make up an apology, before he sprinted up the stairs to the exit.
‘Ridiculous,’ you heard Sanji mutter under his breath. ‘Fucking waste of food.’
Before you could think any better about it, you walked up and knelt down, as he did, to reach for the spilt noodles. ‘I am so sorry,’ you started apologising. ‘I swear normally he–’
‘Is exactly like that,’ Sanji chuckled with a rasp. You looked up at him, a bit dumbfounded. He had managed to scoop most of the food before you had and was already getting up. ‘You have nothing to apologise for.’ One of his colleagues had been quick with bringing over cleaning supplies. ‘If anything, I should be the one saying sorry. Let me make it up to you—a drink in the bar, on the house.’
‘No, that is really not necessary.’ You couldn’t accept anything for free after your boyfriend pulled off such a scene and… had run off without paying. The realisation hit you like a brick on the head as you cursed under your breath with a strong sense of panic, which Sanji caught on to immediately.
‘Please,’ He reached gently for your arm. ‘I insist.’
You stuttered for a moment before actually answering in defeated agreement. With a satisfied smile, Sanji led you to another exit, leading to the bar deck. ‘Right this way, madame.’
The bar deck, located in the mouth of that giant fish head, was moderately empty. Except for you and the appointed barman behind the counter, only a handful of others were sprinkled across the couches and futons. You chose a seat overlooking the sea and the setting sun that coloured the sky and waters an array of warm colours.
You understood that you had to go up to the bar to order, but you felt no particular need for it, just enjoying the breeze that brought over the calm sea air towards you.
It was unclear how much time you spent sitting out there, looking at the waves splashing by and the clouds above you and the people around you. Only once the sun had set entirely, darkening the sky completely, and most people had left the area, you decide to finally walk up to the bartender and place an order. The man nodded and proceeded to make your drink with only a few attached flourishes to the craft, but the result was charming and tasted delicious.
‘I hope I had made it clear that that was one drink on the house,’ you heard from behind you.
‘Don’t worry, this is my first.’ You said, turning around to see Sanji standing behind you.
‘You might just be the slowest drinker I have ever met,’ he said as he took the spot by your side.
‘Jeez, do your manners flush away the second you’re off the clock?’ You smiled, taking a sip of your drink, most likely also proving Sanji his point as the sip you took was particularly small.
‘For what it’s worth, madame, I was about to tell you that your bill has been taken care of.’ He leaned against the bar countertop with his forearms. ‘But I will make myself scarce now.’
‘No, wait,’ you stopped him before he could push himself back. ‘What do you mean it was– I would have happily paid. At least let me leave a tip.’ You were ready to pull out your purse when he took his turn to halt your movements.
‘I will not be accepting any tips for my service today. And honestly, you barely had a meal to eat, let alone to pay for. It is all taken care of. I promise.’
You looked up at him apprehensively, but something about his–not necessarily laidback–but how he was so comfortable with the situation put you at ease, too. But something was gnawing at your conscience.
‘Alright then, but I disagree with the review of your service. You most certainly need something for it in return.’ How could you repay the man who had just gotten you out of your horrific relationship? You doubted anything in the world could match your actual gratefulness. Although, maybe the smile that pulled at Sanji’s lips said something different.
‘Let me cook for you.’
‘What?’ You blinked slowly, making him smile even wider.
‘You haven’t eaten anything proper in hours. Let me make you something in the kitchen–an exclusive guest experience.’
‘That doesn’t sound much like a gratuity for you.’ You pointed out, but he did not seem to mind.
‘Indulge me,’ was all he responded with. Feeling giddy at the prospect, you glanced over at the bartender, who was definitely listening in on the conversation. Understanding what you meant with your look, he simply shrugged while wiping the glasses.
‘Ok then.’ This entire thing felt utterly ridiculous, and you didn’t hide the amusement you felt from it as Sanji opened the door to the kitchen for you. That is when your smile lightly faltered, only to be replaced with a fallen jaw as you looked around in amazement. Like the dining area, this room had a high ceiling but wasn’t decorated as much as simply visually enhanced by all the bronze pots and pans hanging around, and the pipes leading from the ovens and stoves up to the chimneys. There were long lines of prep stations, behind which one Sanji comfortably made himself at home as he immediately got started on something.
The first few minutes, after you watched him exchange his suit jacket for a white chef’s uniform, you were occupied with the kitchen itself, but once you had gotten used to the environment, you wondered where you could make yourself equally comfortable as not a nuisance to him as he cooked.
‘Make yourself at home, sweetheart,’ he said while chopping some ingredients at a speed that made your heart skip a beat in fear. Or did that come from the new nickname that caught you by surprise?
‘What happened to “madame”?’ you walked closer to his station. Sanji just looked up briefly, eye covered by his hair but his smile evermore present. Your smile lasted longer as you forgot you had meant to look at what he was doing, not to stare at him. Noticing he was not planning on answering your question, you asked another. ‘So, what exactly are you making?’
‘Since I’m sure dinner did not turn out entirely as you had planned, I thought maybe dessert would be a good pick-me-up. Rose and chocolate meringue tartes, how does that sound?’
‘Makes me wonder what I did to deserve it,’ you laugh it off while speaking the question that had been on your mind this whole time.
‘I like to show a lady how she’s meant to be treated,’ he said as he poured several ingredients into a glass bowl and began wicking at a pace that should have stopped him from looking so effortless long ago. ‘It’s all part of the special package deal.’
‘Right, the Sanji Special, was it?’ You looked around at the countertop next to him, which seemed free from ingredients and anything you could set on fire. You glanced his way, and he swiftly nodded your way. With that permission in mind, you pushed yourself up on the counter, swinging your legs lightly back and forth. ‘So what exactly does this special indicate?’
‘A nice meal, a little surprise, a few kind words, nothing too crazy. I would like to think that, with it, I have perfected the recipe on how to eliminate shitbag boyfriends like that prince charming you came here with.’
‘My knight in shining armour.’ You rolled your eyes, hiding how much you appreciated all his actions from that day. ‘Must have worked on quite a few girls then?’
‘Can’t say it has,’ he said as he pushed the oven open to prebake a few tartelette frames. The speed at which he worked truly was otherworldly.
‘Can’t because of a bad success rate or because you hadn’t actually tried it before?’
He appeared next to you from beside the oven; tiny droplets of sweat were forming at his temple, but his energy was still burning like the fire under the pot where he was melting the chocolate. ‘Let's say the latter. For both our dignity’s sake.’ It did not come as a surprise to you that he was a flirt and most likely tried these tricks out on the entirety of the female clientele, and yet, for reasons unknown, you did not mind one bit, and it still did not seize to make the smallest of his advances work on you with tremendous effect.
‘Don’t think I have much more of that left after everything that happened out there.’ You cringed at the memory of the shouting, the mess, and just how many people had been sitting there watching you.
‘There’s been much worse out there, believe me.’ Sanji lowered the fire under the pan lightly.
‘I hardly believe that. He threw noodles at you. That is absolutely revolting behaviour.’ And somehow, you managed not to get kicked out of the restaurant along with Chosi but even got to hang out in the kitchen after hours as a special dessert was being prepared for you… by the waiter that your boyfriend had tried to assault— no, that your ex-boyfriend tried to assault. That felt much better, but still didn’t let the whole situation make any more sense.
‘And that wouldn’t even make the top ten of shit that’s happened around this place.’
‘I… am not sure wether to be relieved or disappointed.’ For an inexplicable reason, you thought you would be more memorable to him. However, would you have wanted that, seeing the actual circumstances under which that would be? Ugh.
As if he could read your mind, Sanji added in. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not planning on forgetting you anytime soon.’
‘I bet you say that to everyone.’ You rolled your eyes, to which he just smiled. ‘But really, I am sorry for what happened—especially to your suit.’
‘I care more about the noodles, honestly, don’t like seeing food go to waste—’ he drifted off with his thoughts before coming back up to the surface with another question, ‘speaking of noodles, where’d you meet this guy anyway?’
‘It’s complicated,’ you sighed, not wanting to burden him with your story, but from the eager attitude he was conveying as he managed his ingredients, he did not hold the same sentiment over it. ‘We had been friends for ages—out dads worked together—and it seemed, to everyone, apparently, like the natural progression of events that we would end up together.’
‘Everyone… except for you?’ he assumed, looking up at you from the counter space.
‘No, I mean, at first I thought so too, but over time… well, you saw it yourself. But by the time I had realised what a mess I had gotten myself into, it felt like I was already too late.’
‘How so?’ You heard the gentleness in his question like he was treading the topic lightly, not wanting to put any pressure on it or on you to answer.
‘Heard people talking he had been planning to propose.’ You shrugged it off. ‘But I doubt that will be happening anymore.’
‘What are you going to do now?’ The question came with that same carefulness but perhaps a bit more intrigue. You simply shrugged again.
‘Will probably have to find another ship to get back home on, as I can’t imagine he would want me on board with him.’ It was crazy you had not bothered to check but assumed that he had already taken off hours ago, leaving you behind to fend for yourself. ‘And then, if I see him again… well, not much else I can do but officially dump his ass.’
‘So I shouldn’t feel bad for what I did?’ He stopped what he was doing as he waited for an answer.
‘Absolutely not. I can’t thank you enough for doing that.’
The both of you shared sheepish smiles before you watched him work silently for a few more minutes. The tarte frames came out of the oven in a beautifully crisp golden tone, and he mixed the chocolate into a thick mousse while the rosy syrup lay back to cool off. While the two of you remained quiet, the kitchen was anything but that as his utensils clinked around the pans. You thought back to a few hours ago and how the silence at your table had been anything but this. You had sat in a cold dread, waiting for something to snap until it inevitably did. However, you sat back comfortably here, happily watching as Sanji focused on his work.
It really was his element. While you thought the man had been exemplary at waiting tables, it was nothing compared to the ease at which he performed here. Each move he made seemed like second nature to him.
‘Do all the waiters here know how to cook like this?’ you inquired, leaning in to see how he filled the pastries up, hands in a tight grip on the piping bag.
‘The ones that are cooks do,’ he chuckled.
‘You’re a cook?’ you blinked, ‘then what were you doing out there earlier?’
‘Ah, the old shitbag that runs this place likes to torture me and send me off to do the waitin’.’ He readjusted his hold on the piping bag, briefly stopping to wipe his hand on the towel tucked between his belt.
‘Doesn’t that bother you? I’m sure you’d much rather work here.’ You certainly would. Some people could be real assholes to serve… your former date being a prime example. But Sanji simply laughed it off.
‘Nah, not when beautiful women are out there waiting to be served.’ He stopped to look up at you with a shit-eating grin, and the unseriousness dripping off of it made you blush, smile along with him and push him back by his shoulder before you would do something else much more irrational. Perhaps a bit too hard, as he lost his balance, only finding it on the counter, exactly where the piping bag had been left behind. His palm fell right over the ending, bursting out the mousse in an unfortunate mess, spilling all over him and the counter.
‘Oh no,’ you said, covering your mouth but not the giggles from it, ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘You think it’s funny, don’t you?’ He couldn’t keep his smile, but you shook your head harshly. ‘You’ll pay for this,’ he pointed his hand, covered in chocolate, at you. Several thoughts ran through your mind initially, but you managed to suppress most of them, opting for simply running your finger over the back of his hand where most of the mousse had spilt and giving it a taste.
‘That is really good.’ you hummed at the sweetness. Sanji stood back, somewhat frozen at what you had done, but quickly thawed out with a few blinks.
‘Well, what else did you expect?’ He wiped the rest of his hand on the towel at his side, ‘and I’ll have you know it’s rude to eat the food before it’s done. Takes away from the experience.’
‘I’m sorry,’ you pouted, ‘but I promise you I am still very much enjoying this whole experience.’
‘You better.’ Sanji said, taking the baking tray and putting it back in the oven for the last few minutes. With the oven door shut, he sighed and leaned against the counter opposite you. ‘Now we wait.’
‘How long exactly?’
‘In a rush, are we?’ He glanced at you from behind his hair, and the question made you heat up in the face. Because how could you explain to this practical stranger that you were feeling the opposite of what he insinuated. That you did not want this night to end at all. That being here with him, even if you were just waiting for a damn tart to bake, you were having more fun than you had had in weeks, if not longer. So, all you did was simply shake your head again.
‘It will be just a few minutes, and then gotta let it cool for a bit.’ He reassured you. That is when you noticed the bowl he had mixed the mousse in, mostly scraped clean while filling up the piping bag, but even the best chef can’t always scrape every last ounce out. Now, you might not have had any particular urge to leave any time soon, but you certainly were hungry, and having tasted just how delicious Sanji’s food was, you couldn’t help but lean in to get another little taste.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ He said, bemused, reaching to stop you from taking another swipe of mousse onto your finger. His hand gently grabbed your wrist, but he had been too late. When he caught you, you had your hand directly over your lips, looking up at him. He glared down at you in a daring manner.
You licked the chocolate off yourself as innocently as possible without bursting into laughter.
‘I can’t believe you’d do that.’ He took a step forward, nearly closing the gap between you. The presence of his body, so close to yours, almost touching, reverberated off of you with warmth, and suddenly, you felt the breath you had taken to be stuck in the back of your throat. ‘Did you not listen to anything I just said?’ His breath was hot against your skin, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought it was a direct source of the skip in your heart.
‘Of course I did.’ You ignored the fast beating of your heart and the feeling like it might just burst out of your chest as you took him by the arm to give you some space and let you slide down the counter back onto your feet. ‘Something about experience and…’ you slid out from between him and the counter, and as you did so, swooped by the bowl of mousse with your finger one last time. ‘I forgot what else.’
‘You are unbelievable,’ Sanji reached for your hand, but you were quicker and manoeuvred around him and from his arm’s reach. Taunting him with the mousse, you walked around the work counters, and he, happily playing along, followed suit.
Like children, you ran around the kitchen, with him not far behind you, trying to catch you until he finally did, picking you up by the waist. Unintentionally, a squeak of a shriek came out of you, followed by both your laughs. You kept on laughing until you heard something outside the door. Heavy footsteps, freezing you both in your place until they moved on by. That is when you noted the time. Hours past midnight.
‘Are we even allowed to be in here at this time?’ You whispered as if the person who had walked by would suddenly be able to hear you.
‘Of course,’ Sanji said with confidence, but his expression juxtaposed this with signs that you could only read as “absolutely fucking not.” chances were that if you were caught in the kitchen at this time of night, you would be shot on the spot by, what did Sanji call him, the old shitbag.
But before you could run away in fear of getting caught, it was Sanji’s turn to take you by surprise. As you stood in his arms, he leaned in and wrapped his mouth around your finger, sucking all the chocolate right off. You could feel his tongue move down your knuckles and back up until he released it, leaving you stunned and wide-eyed.
‘I thought it’s rude to eat a dish before it’s done,’ you managed to sputter out.
‘So you did listen,’ he smiled, ‘but you might want to know that a good cook always tastes their dishes in the process, and that… was delicious.’
‘Are you always this humble about your cooking?’ Your heart was basically in your throat at this moment.
‘Wasn’t talking about the food,’ his tone was deep, sultry, as he leaned closer. ‘But care to give me another taste?’
Your breath was officially hitched in your throat, unable to breathe properly, as you stared at him, body flooding with heat and need for him. As words escaped you, you nodded lightly and leaned in as he did the same, meeting your lips in the middle with a kiss.
As soon as it happened, his arms found their spot on your side as you fastened yourself on his shoulders. It was nothing like you expected it to be. For a man spending his entire nights and days in the kitchen, he felt nothing like it. You could smell the cologne, taste the cigarettes and the fresh mint he used to conceal the former. His tender but firm touch held you in your place as he pressed closer.
There was a force to it, but nothing that you didn’t feel in yourself to copy as the need for him boiled deep inside you.
Your hand moved slowly up to his cheek, over to his hair at the nape of his neck.
One of his hands, in the meantime, had found your thigh, pulling it up over his leg as he squeezed your soft flesh, but before giving you a chance to even react to this new position and all its implications, Sanji moved.
Pulling apart, leaving your lips to be the last piece he detached from as he kept your bottom lip between his teeth lightly, he apologised, ‘Excuse me for a moment.’ because while you might have forgotten all about the world around you, he had still been keeping track of the tartelettes that were baking down in the oven.
He pulled the tray of pastries out with a white tea towel, practically throwing it down on the counter, discarding it with a metal clang.
‘Now we wait for them to cool,’ he explained as he got back to you.
‘And what were you planning on doing in the meantime,’ you pulled him back in by the blue ascot tie.
With his lips ghosting over yours, he half-whispered, ‘I might have a few things in mind,’ and with it, kissed you again. While the kiss itself was not much different, with that same intensity and passion running through both of you as before, now you were very much aware of what was to follow. If it wasn’t your need that spurred you on, then it was Sanji and his eagerness. Despite his chef’s uniform and the navy apron, you could feel him grow harder against you as the kiss continued. A moan escaped you as his lips travelled down to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses one by one until he reached a spot that was more sensitive than others. The simple touch sparked a fuse inside you.
As he continued playing with your sensitive skin, he led both your bodies to one of the empty tables at the side of the room, pressing you right against the edge and locking you in between it and him.
Without needing him to say a word, you understood exactly what you needed to do and climbed on top of the table, spreading your legs to make space for him right in the middle.
Your dress might have hiked up slightly over your thighs, but it wasn’t enough for Sanji, who took it upon himself to pull it up.
‘I hope you don’t mind me saying’,’ he smiled as he kissed the corner of your mouth and as his hand reached the top of your leg, ‘but I had been thinkin' about this ever since I saw you.’
‘Me too,’ you exhaled deeply, letting the confession sink in. Maybe Chosi was right after all. Now, with him out of the picture, you could admit that something had been there from the start, from the moment you caught a glimpse of the waiter cook. And if it wasn’t for all the shit that occurred that day, maybe you would have felt a twinge of guilt as you guided Sanji’s hand between your legs. If you had not shut that chapter behind you, perhaps you would have felt bad, but any insecurities of that disappeared as Sanji began to toy with your core. His slender fingers grazed slowly over your slit, putting enough pressure on it to make you arch your back in need of more.
‘Already so needy,’ he smirked. ‘And I barely touched you.’
‘Touch me then,’ you said with gritted teeth.
‘Don’t need to tell me twice.’ His fingers moved up in pace and barely went any deeper, keeping you on the edge of satisfaction. ‘And what would madame like me to do?’ He threaded his movements, and you were growing impatient with the teasing.
‘Fuck me,’ ready to hear his next question, you added, ‘I don’t care how.’
His grin only grew wider at your words. Much to your dislike, he pulled his hand away to place both at your thighs, pressing his fingers into your skin and using that as leverage to make more space for himself in between.
‘As madame wishes.’ He spoke softly right below your ear as he descended onto his knees.
The kiss he left over your panties already invoked a tremble through your entire body, and it only got worse from there, in the best sense. He pushed your underwear aside and took his time giving you all his attention and care. Kissing your core deeply until his nose pressed up against you. His tongue licked up your juices like a starving man until your eyes rolled back, and you felt weak.
The table you were perched on was empty, so you only had Sanji to hold on to. At first, you reached for his shoulder, but it was just not high enough for you to find support. As you tried to look for it, Sanji reached for your hand and brought it up to the side of his head for you to tangle your fingers in his light locks. Before you even managed to grab onto them, simply letting your nails trace over his hair, you felt the vibrations of his moans strike you. Another deep blow to your senses pulled you further down to the edge. Closer and closer until you couldn’t take it anymore. Your grip on his hair tightened as your breath grew sporadic.
‘Fuck, fuck,’ you moaned, voice filled with desperation for a release, and one that Sanji would be more than pleased to give you… just not quite yet. As he pulled away from you, you deflated with the feeling of a ruined climax and the urge to pull him back to finish what he had started, but all you could do was whimper in protest.
‘Don’t worry,’ he kissed your knee softly, ‘all in good time. I promise to take good care of you,’ and with that, he rose back up to his feet, untying his apron.
‘That was good,’ your chest still moving up and down heavily as you caught your breath. ‘Really good.’
‘It pleases me to hear that,’ he said as he threw the apron aside onto the ground. ‘And believe me, I would love to go back for seconds—’
‘Does all your pillow talk stem from restaurant jargon?’ you interrupted jokingly.
‘You laugh, and yet you’re the one begging me to fuck you.’ God, he was so cocky, with the way he stood there in front of you, his head tilted sideways, and his lip turned up in a grin that told you he knew he was right. ‘So, please, let me.’ His hand was already on his belt buckle.
There was no time or need for either of you to undress. With your dress hiked up to your hips, he already had easy enough access, and once his belt was loose, it only took a few sharp pulls for you to release him from the material restraints.
‘You ready?’ he asked.
‘For the love of god,’ grabbing him by the arm, you pulled him in, ‘stop talking and just take me.’ You knew he was about to respond, but before he got the chance to make another absurdly silly but nonetheless flirtatious comment, you shit him up with a kiss. Just like that, the two of you melted into one another. Sanji made himself comfortable between you and let his lips wander down to your neck again, to that one spot he found that drove you crazy.
He kept kissing your neck as he finally slid into you. The two feelings made your body go weak, melting you into a puddle of burning nerves as he spread your walls and filled you up perfectly.
First, he moved slowly, but with each thrust, he sped up more and more, putting more force into it until you were both shaking with ferocity, and the table underneath you scratched over the planks it stood upon. The sound of the tortured floor was the only thing covering up both your moans and that of the messy skin-to-skin contact.
While he practically pounded into you, you reached for his hair again. There was just something about it: how messy you managed to make it with a few tugs and brushstrokes. All of it, how he acted and reacted, it was all in response to you. Just how he made you see stars with each move he made.
‘Feels so good, fuck,’ he groaned over your shoulder as you grabbed for his, pulling him closer if possible. He had your legs pressed against his sides. He shook his head quickly, letting the hair flick out of his sight, but the attempt was poor as the lock quickly fell back over his eye despite his efforts.
‘San–’ you moaned, ‘Sanji–’
‘That’s right,’ he might as well have been kissing you, so close were his lips to you, but instead, the only thing you truly felt was his hot breath on your skin as he kept going deeper and harder. ‘Gonna come for me? His voice got even deeper the longer he kept going. At the sound of it, your nails dug into his back, his striped shirt being the only thing saving him from possibly some nasty scratches, but it seemed to only spur him on more. ‘I–’ you gasped out as you felt him hit the deepest part of you.
‘Yeah?’
‘I’m close, fuck.’ the pit in your stomach tightened, your muscles strained as you tried to hold on to that feeling of pleasure he brought over you. The tension built up like a band being pulled tighter and tighter, ready to snap at any moment; he had you in his grip, waiting to let go of you at the exact right time. All you needed was that touch, just the right one in the right spot.
You could feel it all. Could feel just how close he was himself as his thrusts got sloppier, and his breathing grew heavier and rougher between his words. ‘Yeah, c’mon. I know you can do it. Come all over my cock. ‘’s gonna feel so good, I promise you.’
The encouragement might not have been necessarily what did it. It was more like a concoction of things that all led to this precise moment when ecstasy overtook your body and washed over you like a hot flash. Sanji was not far behind you, riding his high as he ensured you got to yours. His movements slowed down as you felt the cum slick down your thighs. While you both caught your breath, it became quiet once more.
It took you a bit longer to catch up on air in your lungs, and so while you closed your eyes and focused on your breathing, you heard Sanji zip his trousers back up and lightly walk across the aisle between the workstations. When you opened your eyes again, he was making his way back to you already, a handful of paper towels in his hand.
Despite the burn you already felt in your sore muscles, you spread your legs one last time to give him access to clean you up. His soft touches to your sensitive core now were in stark contrast to what he had been doing to you moments ago, but the cold of the damp towel brought a nice sense of comfort.
‘You think you can stand up for me?’ he asked gently, and the little words in that tone were enough to make your heart flutter.
‘Yeah, I think so.’ You said, but that was quickly proven wrong when your knees buckled almost immediately when your feet touched the ground. It was only because of the way that Sanji held your arm that you had not completely toppled over.
‘Woah, alright.’ He smiled, never letting go of you, ‘How about we just sit for now.’ Slowly, he guided you to sit on the ground, back against a cabinet. ‘Water?’
You nodded in agreement. The question had made you realise just how parched you were.
‘Still, sparkling, mineral?’
‘Surprise me.’ You said through a tired smile at the reference to how he waited on you earlier, but moments later, you reminded yourself of your preference, ‘just not sparkling! It just tastes foul.’
‘Anything but sparkling water, coming right up.’ He moved around the room to pour you some surprise water, and while he did so, you pressed your face into your hands, laughing at the absurdity of it all. Less than 12 hours ago, you had been walking up the deck, arm in arm, with your good-for-nothing boyfriend, soon-to-be fiance. Now you sat on the ground of a restaurant kitchen, with no idea where said–now ex–-boyfriend was in the world, coming down from one of the best orgasms you had ever received… all by the hand of a stranger. A handsome stranger at that. One that you could imagine seeing much more of in the future, but it was all just too silly.
And you were tired. And hungry.
‘Voila,’ Sanji appeared in front of you with impeccable timing, a large ice-cold looking glass in one hand, filled with ice cubes and cucumber, and two plates in the other hand. The rose and chocolate meringue tartes look particularly inviting. ‘Thought you might finally want to try one,’ he said as he handed you a plate and fork.
‘I swear, you’re a godsend.’ No matter in how much need you were of a drink, the sight of the dessert made your mouth water.
‘Ah, just a little something sweet for—’
‘If you’re going to say what I think you’re going to say, I will shove this tarte in your face.’ One could only endure so much of this sappy flirting, even if you found it very endearing. Sanji shut his mouth and sat beside you, poking his fork into his portion.
The two of you ate quickly but still took enough time to appreciate the flavours that oozed out of the pastry and its filling. The moan you made as it all reached your tastebuds might have been more pornographic than any sound you made while he had been deep inside you.
‘Mmm, this is delicious,’ you said through another bite. The praise brought a huge smile to the cook’s lips. ‘Seriously, thank you. For everything.’
‘It’s been my pleasure,’ he spoke in a way that almost made you think he was getting shy on you. That felt unlikely, but you let him process it all for a moment as you kept eating.
Only once you had eaten everything off your plate did you ask your next question of the evening. ‘How did you know I would like this?’
‘It’s a chef’s best trait,’ he pulled the fork out of his mouth with a pop, ‘to be able to read their customers well. To be able to tell what they like or dislike; to know them better than they know themselves.’
‘But how?’ With intrigue, you moved closer to him. He had been leaning against the same cupboard as you, one of his knees raised up and an arm hanging casually over it. His hair was still messy, falling over his eye. ‘How could you tell I would enjoy this specific dish?’
The one unobstructed eye fell over you, looking up and down over your body as his mischievous smile reappeared. ‘It felt fitting.’
‘How so?’ You blinked, confused as to what he meant.
‘Sweet, decadent and hot; what’s there not to like? I mean—’ he leaned in over his arm to kiss you, feather-light. Then, he hummed as he pulled back. ‘It is an absolutely divine combination.’
Your cheeks burned up for what felt like the millionth time that evening, and you could not dare keep looking at him as he stared down at you with that innate hunger. That kind that could only be filled with one thing, and it just so happened to have wholly exhausted you.
‘Is this still all part of that special of yours?’
To this, Sanji shrugged, ‘Depends.’
‘On what?’
‘On how long you want to keep me around.’ He scraped some leftover mousse from his plate, licking it off his fork.
‘I think for a while,’ you admitted. Yeah, you definitely hadn’t had enough of him yet.
‘Well, then there’s so much more I can do for you, madame.’
the end
thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this story, please consider reblogging and commenting-either through the comments, in a reblog or through my inbox <3 to hear your thoughts on my writing means the world to me and really is a huge help in motivation to keep going.
I don't know If this counts as an Emergency Request and I know I've already made like two, but can I have an emergeny request?!
I'm just now realizing how freaking messed up I am with comfort and knowing when I need help and Why I want and hate physical contact so much!
I'm terrified when people start yelling and I get really shaking and -twitchy when people start raising their voices becuase I associate loud voices with "physical punishment"
I hate asking for emotinal support becuase I'm afraid of being pushed aside and scolded. I'm now realizing why I want to be hugged with so much force and just scream!
I'm asking for Kyojuro, Tengen and his wives, Akaza and Sanemi in a scenario where fem reader is remebering her home life as a child so she suddenly gets really jumping, twitchy, emotinal, and anxious, but refuses to admit she needs help becuase actaully aknowleging it terrifies her, but then she hears someone loudly yelling and breaks down just wanting to squeeze and scream and becuase her family relationship, she doesn't know how to react when she is just genuinly comforted.
Please, I'm really wanting some comfort right now, even if its just ficton.
▸ ANSWERING. i’m in super delay and i deeply apologise. i’m not sure i actually did justice to this kind of feeling… i hope that’s okay and that it’ll help you a bit <3 i’m sending you a big big hug 🫂
▸ FANDOM. kimetsu no yaiba
▸ CHARACTERS. kyojuro rengoku x fem!reader, tengen uzui & wives x fem!reader, sanemi shinazugawa x fem!reader, akaza x fem!reader
▸ RATING. sfw
▸ WARNINGS. this is my first time writing for akaza i’m shaking, tension, crying, childhood trauma, angst but with comfort, not proofread ofc. lemme know if i missed something !!
KYOJURO RENGOKU
kyojuro is checking senjuro's training, giving him advice and such, while you're cleaning the living area. you remember a moment from when you were young, casually: it's your mother scolding you because you're crying, then your father is here too... you sigh heavily and shake your head, as if to get rid of that memory.
you're unconsciously trembling the whole time, but keep on cleaning. every noise starts to get you more and more nervous, until you hear shinjuro calling kyojuro's name from his room, his tone always so rude, that you break down.
you fall on the ground, hiding your teary face and heavily shaking. kyojuro notices and is soon by your side, checking on you. senjuro goes to their father instead, avoiding him getting angry.
"y/n, what's wrong?" he asks you, trying to gently move your hands from your face. "i'll... i can handle this," you quickly reply, pushing him away. kyojuro frowns, not truly understanding the situation. "i just need to finish cleaning," you whisper and try to grab the cloth you were using to clean the table before kyojuro stops you.
"why are you crying?" he tries again, searching for your eyes. "i'm not crying!" you snap at him, not really making him back away. "baby..." it is as if you're crying even more at this point. kyojuro pulls you against his chest, circling you with his arms.
he's warm, his perfume is comforting and familiar, his big hands are caressing your back gently, soothing you. "w-what are you doing?" you ask, trying to move in his embrace. "i'm comforting you. you're not alone, darling," he caresses your wet cheek and smiles down at you. "i'm here for you, when you're feeling good and when you're down, you don't have to push away your feelings, or else it will get worse."
you stare into his glowing eyes, listening in silence. you've never felt like this before. you were used to force yourself to simply push forward when you were feeling down or overwhelmed, your parents never truly comforted you and kyojuro doing it so loving made a new wave of tears streaming down your cheeks.
"it's okay, let it out."
TENGEN, HINATSURU, MAKIO AND SUMA UZUI
[the memory is pretty much the same for the tengen & sanemi too]
you let a plate fall on the floor, making hinatsuru, who's standing by your side, jump. "wait, don't move..." she says, before kneeling down to gather the broken pieces before throwing them away. "i'm so sorry," you say on the verge of tears.
hina simply shakes her head and smiles at you. "we have plenty of plates, honey," she chuckles, before resuming washing the rest of dirty dishes.
you follow her example and keep drying the now clean dishes. in the back of your head you hear your father shouting at you for breking something and you jump, making another plate fall and break. hinatsuru turns towards you, nothing your distressed expression.
"lord tengen is gonna get mad... i'm so sorry, hinatsuru!" you cry, even though deep inside you know tengen rarely raised his voice at the four of you. "oh baby... don't worry about the plates, no one will scold you for breaking them," she tries to assure you, taking your hand.
makio comes into the kitchen, noticing the broken plate. "what happened?? someone tried to attack you?!" she raises her voice due to preoccupation, checking the whole area to make sure nobody is there to hurt you. "an attack?!" here comes suma. "hey!" tengen enters the kitchen too, to see what's the matter.
"he will get angry, he will scold me again, he will..." you curl up on the floor, cutting your hand with one of the broken pieces but you can't notice it. you're repeating the two phrases over and over, hina and tengen are the first to notice.
"there's nothing, calm down," makio pushes suma away, sighing. "but what if he’s hiding?" she cries, looking around nervously. "don't be dumb, how can he hide when there's five of us here?!"
"shut up!" hinatsuru shouts at the two, making you flinch. tengen moves closer, moving you away from the broken plate and checking your hand. "dumb baby," he whispers while carefully removing the splinter. "don't get mad at me please," you're crying at this point.
"i didn't wanted to break them, i swear!" you scream right into his face while more and more tears stream down your face. "i don't care about a bunch of boring dishes," tengen assures you deathly serious. "get of the kitchen," he orders the others, who quickly obey and say nothing.
tengen notices you're shaking while staring at the ground. "hey, it's okay," tengen cups your cheeks and kisses your forehead, trying to calm you down. "i... i don't know what to do," you whisper, simply staring at his face. "you’re very nervous baby, why don’t you try breathing with me?”
you follow his suggestion and once you’re more calmed tengen hugs you, cuddling with you. he leaves a few kisses on your head while holding you.
“this is… so comforting,” you mutter against his chest, surprising him. “t-that’s the point,” he stutters, noticing how you never actually asked for help and are the one who’s rarely seen seeking this kind of treatment. “you’re okay, darling.”
SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA
you’re walking by his side while you two go back to his mansion. he just finished training with iguro and you clearly see he’s a bit tired from the past few days.
when you walk past a little group of slayers, you don’t notice at first but they’re arguing about something. when one of them shouts you jump, bumping into sanemi’s side. “what?” he glances at you and notices something isn’t right. the following screaming and shouting stress you even more, while memories from your childhood take control over your mind.
“what’s wrong?” sanemi asks you, stopping mid track. “n-nothing, i’m alright,” you reply, as if you weren’t clearly shaking and on the verge of tears. “yeah, well that’s bullshit.”
you meet his eyes and flinch back a bit, scared of actually opening up. “i just want to go home…” you try to avoid talking about it and resume walking, moving rapidly. sanemi grunts in response but follows you, staring at you.
once you reach his mansion you’re quick to get the dinner ready, hoping to distract yourself, but you’re failing. sanemi follows your every action and it makes you even more nervous.
if i speak about it, he would push me away and start hating me, stating that i’m weak.
“okay, i’ve had enough of your shit,” he snaps and stops you. he grabs your hands and makes you turn towards him. “you’re all twitchy, you’re holding back tears and you’re clearly distressed. what’s wrong? someone hurt you?” you shake your head, knowing that you would end up crying if you speak. “y/n, i just want to help alright? but i can’t do that if you don’t tell me what’s wrong,” sanemi gets more worried as the time pass.
you notice it and you start crying, feeling bad for making him worry so much. “jeez,” sanemi pulls you into an embrace and you hide your face against his chest. “i’m so sorry!” you raise your voice, crying. his hands caress your back slowly, trying to calm you. “it’s okay,” he assures you and rest his chin on your head, keeping you close to his body. “i-i don’t know how i should react, i just don’t know,” you grip his uniform and sniff, shaking a bit. “just let it out, baby.”
sanemi keeps comforting you, making sure you know that he’s here for you and that it’s okay. it’s okay to cry and ask for help.
AKAZA
[i opted for a nightmare in his case, akaza is visiting reader during the night]
you’re turning in your sleep and sometimes little wails leave your lips, you’re sweating. akaza enters into your house and reaches the bedroom. you wake up right before he enters the bedroom and quickly wipe your tears, catching your breath.
dreaming your parents scolding and yelling at you is the last thing you expected. you’re feeling as if your every next move would be the wrong one and someone will appear to scold you, making you feel small and useless.
“you okay?” he kneels beside your futon and notices your status. “mh, i just had a nightmare. it’s okay,” you reply, trying your best to get over it soon. “you wanna cuddle for a while?” akaza asks, a gentle smile appears on his face. “oh, um… why would i?” you genuinely ask, confusing him a bit.
“well… i think humans like being comforted after a bad dream,” he scratches his neck while chuckling lowly. “i-i’ve never done that… i mean, i don’t know how…” you stutter and start crying without noticing. akaza frowns and raises his hand to wipe away your tears. “let’s do that, alright,” he says before laying down beside you. he circles your body with his arms and holds you closer to his chest. “t-thank you..?” you whisper, letting him do whatever he please.
akaza caresses your hips slowly, kissing your cheeks every once in a while. “i love you,” he mutters against your skin. “i’ll always be with you,” he promises. you scoot closer and smile, taking one of his hands into yours.
▸ BEFORE LEAVING. reblog and comments are super appreciated. well i hope it wasn’t too bad because it started to suck for me lol lol lol
Description: 2.1k wc sick!reader fic where reader is Nikolai’s wife and becomes sick after not heeding advice to rest her voice.
Warnings: illness/sickness, mentions of eating and drinking/soup and tea, mentions of Nikolai being shirtless (just fluff though, I promise), Nikolai bring a protective!simp for reader. 🖤
Note: full disclosure this wasn’t a WIP but rather to help my little sis @ell0ra-br3kk3r feel better 💜
“I thought you agreed to take it easy today” Nikolai sighed, walking into his office and seeing his wife y/n tidying up.
She turned to him with a guilty smile.
“How’s your throat?” He questioned, stepping to her.
“It’s gr-“ she coughed, “great”.
Nikolai gave her an incredulous look.
“Milaya, I heard you singing to yourself again” He informed her, reaching for her hand.
“Habit” she mumbled, shuffling her feet against the wood floor.
He grinned softly, “I know. And it’s precious, truly. But, you have to rest your voice”.
“Are you telling me to sh-“ She coughed again and groaned, “to shut up?”
Nikolai smirked, “If that’s what gets you to rest your throat, then, yes”.
She gave him a weak glare before spinning around to resume her cleaning.
“My beloved wife, we have people who can do that, you mustn’t fuss over it” He reminded her.
“You want them going through your documents?” She questioned softly, holding up one of his more confidential notes.
Nikolai hummed and took it from her, “Fair point Darling. I’ll handle this, you should see if Genya or someone can aid your throat”.
Y/n shook her head and took the paper back from Nikolai before setting it on the desk.
Nikolai watched her silently as she guided him to the lounge chair across the room.
She popped down and signaled for him to join her.
Once he sat down beside her, he moved to pull her to his chest and placed a tender kiss on the top of her head.
—— Time Skip 1 Day ——
“Darling” Nikolai scolded, arms crossed as he stared down his wife.
She winced slightly and covered her mouth.
He signed and walked to her before lowering her hand with his.
“I’m just worried you’ll make yourself worse” Nikolai explained.
She nodded, “I’m not trying to be difficult, it’s just so routine”.
Nikolai pulled her to him, resting his chin on her head, “perhaps you should stay in bed where you don’t have a reason to sing?”
Y/n looked around the room she’d been painting in and frowned.
As she turned back to Nikolai she shook her head with a pout.
He chuckled softly, “alright, but then the signing has to be put on hold hmm?”
She sighed but nodded reluctantly.
—— Time Skip 1 Day ——
“Your highness?” Sentinel Ivanov whispered, standing behind the King as Nikolai attended yet another boring meeting.
Nikolai nodded in response to his wife’s personal guard member, but respectfully kept his eyes on the meeting’s current speaker.
“It’s the Queen,” Sentinel Ivanov began, stepping back when Nikolai’s head whipped around instantly.
“What is it? Where is she?” Nikolai questioned, diregarding the meeting he was in.
“She’s fallen ill, she hasn’t left your shared chambers but has requested your-“ Sentinel Ivanov explained cautiously.
Nikolai stood from his seat and quickly walked to the exit.
“I have a family matter to attend to. General Nazyalensky will take over” he breathily rushed out before exiting the meeting room.
Nikolai ignored the way his staff in the hall turned to watch him speed down the hallway.
Upon reaching their bedroom door, he impatiently waited for the guards to part from their blocking of the entrance and then dashed inside.
Nikolai frowned so deeply his forehead wrinkled as he saw the state his wife was in.
Y/n lay there wrapped up in the comforter in the middle of their bed, tissues scattered across the sheets, head slightly hung, and sad eyes.
He nearly choked when she glanced over to give him a weak smile.
Her nose was red and stuffy and the smile didn’t reach her eyes.
“Moya tsaritsa” he whined, rushing to her bedside.
She pointed wordlessly to her neck and frowned.
Nikolai sighed as he took her hand in his, “your sore throat worsened?”
She nodded and then paused as a shiver took over her body.
Nikolai felt her forehead with the back of his hand and let out a sigh of relief.
“No fever, let’s keep it that way, hmm?” He advised, scanning the room.
“It’s just a stuffy nose and re-“ y/N’s voice cracked, “really bad sore throat”.
Nikolai nodded and gently moved the pillows behind her before scooping her up in his arms.
He delicately placed her back down on the bed, closer to the head of it this time.
“Let me change and then we’ll cuddle and get some rest okay?” Nikolai offered.
“You could get sick Kolya” she whined followed by a small coughing fit.
He raised an accusatory eyebrow, “you expect me to care about that?! Especially when you’re ill?”
Y/n smiled softly at him but nodded.
Nikolai chuckled softly as he removed his uniform top.
“Your guard informed me that you requested my presence “ Nikolai grinned, although he was inferring that information as he hadn’t let Sentinel Ivanov finish before he rushed to come to her aid.
Y/n coughed loudly, making Nikolai’s head whip around to look over her.
As she lowered her arm from her mouth she sighed, “I’m okay”.
He shook his head and resumed changing his clothes.
“I didn’t think about it when I asked for you” she mumbled, “but I don’t want you to get-“
“Enough of that y/n,” he warned, “I won’t have it. You are my one true love and I’m not leaving your side until you’re well”.
“Bu-but you don’t have time to-“ she argued weakly.
Nikolai turned to her, his robe hanging open around his torso as he stared at her.
“Y/n/n, I always have time for you. I love you” he cooed as he made his way back to her.
“Even when I’m sick?” Y/n questioned, followed by another cough.
Nikolai pouted and softly pulled her arm away from her face after she finished coughing, “especially when you're sick. Sick people need even more love and time than usual, you know."
Y/n whimpered quietly as she reached to her husband, “…… I love you immensely”.
He smiled and slid into the bed beside her, his arms instantly closing around her frame.
“I love you too moya tsaritsa, now how can I help?” He questioned, kissing her forehead.
She shrugged, desperately clinging onto him, “don’t know. I’m fine”.
Nikolai sighed, moving one hand from her back to her chin and tilting her face upwards, “what’s the matter?”
“This is humiliating” she pouted, eyes darting anywhere but his face.
“There's nothing humiliating about needing help once in a while, my love” he promised, smiling tenderly at her.
She finally made eye contact with him and sniffled, “but you have more important-“.
“No” Nikolai stated, his hand placed over her mouth.
She gasped and then giggled against his hand, making him smile as he pulled his hand back.
“Don’t make me risk you having to cough because I had to cover your mouth. You’re not permitted to finish that sentence” Nikolai alerted her.
“Per-permitted?” She coughed and rose her eyebrow at him.
“You know I’d never restrict you milaya, but this is one exception. I will not stand for you insinuating that there’s anything in this world I would find more important than you” he affirmed, holding her closer to his bare chest.
Y/n laid her head against his torso with a smile on her lips.
“You’re sitting though” she teased quietly.
Nikolai chuckled loudly and tickled her sides.
As her laughter turned into coughs, he abruptly stopped and held her still as his eyes scanned her face.
“I’m terribly sorry love, that was a bad idea” he apologized frantically.
“Moi tsar, Moi Kolya, it isn’t y-your fault” y/n assured him, her voice cracking slightly.
Nikolai bent his head down to place a kiss to her stuffy nose.
“Shhh y/n/n, you don’t need to talk love” he advised, shifting so she could rest on his chest again.
A few calm moments passed before y/n pulled back to glance up at her husband again.
Nikolai smirked at her inability to stay still and nodded for her to explain what was on her mind.
“You’re not mad at me?” She questioned in a breathy whisper.
Nikolai’s eyes nearly crossed as he tried to figure out where she’d get such an idea from.
“Course not, why would I be?” He wondered, staring deeply into her eyes for an answer.
“I..” she sniffled and rubbed the tip of her swollen nose with the side of her palm, “I didn’t listen when you said to stop singing”.
Nikolai let out a gust of air as he broke into a smile, “it’s okay milaya, I love your singing. Just didn’t want you to hurt is all”.
“You love my singing?” She whispered.
He cupped her cheek and guided her head back to his chest, “I am in love with your singing, y/n”.
She hummed softly but stopped as she rubbed her throat in pain.
Nikolai pursed his lips before he began to slowly moving out from behind her so he could set her against the pillows.
“I’m going to get you some tea” he informed her when she frowned at his movement.
She pouted and shook her head as she tightened her grip on the edges of his robe to try and hold him down.
Despite the fact he could very easily escape her grip, he didn’t want to; and she clearly didn’t want him to either.
So, he placed a tender kiss to the top of his wife’s head.
“Sentinel Ivanov” Nikolai called out, his hands placed over y/n’s ears.
There was a firm knock on the doors of their bed chambers as Sentinel Ivanov responded, “Korol Lantsov?”
“You may enter” Nikolai confirmed, lowering his hands from his wife’s ears.
“Korol, Koroleva” Sentinel Ivanov bowed as he reached the end of the couple’s bed.
“Ilya, please rise” Nikolai said at the same time y/n said, “you don’t need to do bow”.
Ilya smiled and nodded at them as he waited to hear why he’d been called.
“Would you please have the kitchen fetch some warm tea, and perhaps honey if there’s any, for my loving wife?” Nikolai requested, rubbing y/n’s shoulder that wasn’t pressed against his chest.
“Of course moi tsar, anything else for Koroleva Lantsov?” Ilya replied with a nod.
Nikolai glanced down lovingly at his wife, “anything else you think will help, darling?”
She shook her head and then pulled her shirt over her nose as she coughed again.
Nikolai frowned, glancing between his wife and Sentinel Ivanov.
Ilya gave Nikolai a sympathetic look, knowing full well how much y/n’s discomfort was impacting the King.
“Has anyone brought her food today?” Nikolai questioned Ilya upon remembering it was nearly noon.
Ilya shook his head, “no one other than yourself has left nor entered these chambers today. Well, and now myself”.
Nikolai nodded, sighing as he looked back at his wife.
Y/n lifted her head to make eye contact with Nikolai as she felt his gaze.
“It hurts too much” she whispered.
Nikolai pressed his lips into a fine line as he thought of how to make sure she still ate.
“Perhaps there’s some soup or broth in the kitchen?” Nikolai asked as his eyes snapped to Ilya.
“I can certainly check sir” Ilya agreed.
Nikolai hummed and nodded, “that’ll be all. Thank you”.
—— Short Time Skip ——
“You must love me a lot” y/n croaked a Nikolai lowered the spoon back to the bowl of soup.
“Obviously, you idiot” Nikolai smirked, bringing up another spoonful of warm broth.
She squinted at him but sipped the broth from the spoon in his hand.
“Now you’re insulting a sick person?” Y/n huffed.
He chuckled, “only when you say such obvious things”.
She smiled and softly pushed his hand back down to the dish has he brought up another spoonful.
“You’re full?” He questioned warily.
She nodded and he grinned as she let out a yawn.
“Fair enough, but you’re going to have some more tea before we go to sleep” he ordered as he set the bowl on the bedside table.
—— Short Time Skip ——
“Don’t” y/n whispered, eyelids blinking slowly.
She yawned and snuggled into Nikolai’s embrace even more, “don’t stop.. your fingers…”
Nikolai hummed tenderly, his fingers still moving through her hair.
“Your fingers” she repeated lowly, “feel so nice in my hair”.
He smirked to himself before lowering his head to press a kiss to her head.
“So cozy Kolya” y/n mumbled, her eyelids closing.
Nikolai watched her closely until he saw the rise and fall of her chest.
Once he noticed her eyelids and facial features relaxed, he let out a satisfied sigh.
“Rest well my dear Koroleva” Nikolai hummed, letting his own eyes close.
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Tag list: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @nikfigueiredo
What you can see here are among the most popular posts of the last month for the convin (Connor/Gavin Detroit Become Human) tag for the last month. And presumably popular in lollipop, cityscape, rick day, eva long, dostoyevsky, and all the other random, unrelated tags added to these posts.
You can see two identical posts made by separate bots that feature a bit.ly (so, disguised, you don't know whether the address is safe/where you're going) link to a website that contains an image of a pretty young women (but who knows what else).
Each post is liked by about a dozen other bots, and only bots. (I reported them all, so can confirm their profiles were obviously those of bots/porn bots.) Some of them even use the same image in the pfp. Some are developed blogs full of porn images, some are clearly newer and don't even have a pfp yet. They are all gaining legitimacy from each other by the likes which act as links to their Tumblrs, and adding legitimacy to the post they have liked, which links to their ultimate goal: the site where they make money in undoubtedly dodgy ways.
They are doing this to legitimise their websites for search engines like Google, but if you don't care about that, it has the same effect in your Tumblr tags.
If we don't stop them, ALL your favourite hashtags are going to be full of meaningless posts like this, and probably porn you don't want to see (very different from porn you DO want to see).
This is why we report and block, lads. Not just because they are annoying and irrelevant to us, but because if we don't stop them they will take over this hellsite, and they very clearly do not understand the nature of the hell in which we live.
Tangerine idea: he has a cute girlfriend who is like the opposite of him and he gets all sweet with her
𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏.
pairings ; tangerine x female!reader
warnings ; female!reader, a lot of cursing because it's tangerine, slang writing every so often — 'outta' and 'ya', pet names used, one mention of a gun but it's quick and passing.
word count ; 1106
additional notes ; i absolutely love him and i'm so estatic to write for him :'))
the search for his keys grow more frustrating and unnecessarily difficult with his own brother chirping in his ear beside him. the loud noise of the keyrings clanking against each other and lemon complaining about the blood on his new tie, tangerine curses the number of keyrings you insist to have, swallowing the key from his grasp.
“will you shut the fuck up? for one minute, man? can’t think straight with your yapping blasting my fucking eardrum!” lemon’s sentence falls short when tangerine snaps, waving his hand dismissively to his brother from behind him.
“i hope you don’t act like that in front of your girl, no?” lemon replies lowly, tangerine tutting as he dwells in the quieter nature. his fingers fumble and finally touch the key to unlock his front door, seconds away from seeing the one person he’s missed the most.
tangerine doesn’t respond to his sentence, sending his brother a look as they enter the opening of his house. kicking off his shoes and nudging off his jacket, tangerine looks to lemon, “you’re lucky i’m letting you sleep here tonight, keep it up and i’ll give you a nice blanket for our fucking doorstep, yeah?”
lemon swings his jacket off his shoulders, clumsily placing it upon the rack which tilts and hits the wall. he cringes, slowly moving it back into place before turning back to his brother who gives him the silent stare.
a ‘are you fucking serious?’ type look which is carried on with his thick accent through, “nah, it’s fine. it’s only three in the fucking morning! course she won’t be asleep, so carry on, bastard.” tangerine’s sarcasm is hinted through his whispered shout, face scrunches with closed fists tightening by his side.
“well if that didn’t wake y/n, your shouting outta do it, brother.” tangerine inhales deeply, trying to control himself before calmly replying with a small, “just get through here, will ya?”. lemon follows tangerine through to the living-room.
the entire house is in darkness except from the low stream of the television, emitting a cold and blue-hued light across the large living-room. “what’s this doing on, eh?” tangerine mutters to himself, a random episode of friends played on the channel which he doesn’t hesitate to click off.
the room turns to pitch black after the television clicks off, the lonely stream of moonlight catching the floorboards through the tiny cracks of the semi-closed blinds. the large window covered. instead, tangerine walks towards the end of the sofa where a lamp lays on the table beside.
he jumps out his skin with a low ‘fuck me! jesus christ!’ when his eyes land on a figure atop the couch. however, tangerine’s expression quickly changes into a softer nature, hand which held his chest in fright drops once he notices who it is.
lemon, who stands behind the sofa, moves his hand away from the gun hiding in his holster from the sudden fright and watches as tangerine places a small smile on his face and walks towards the other end of the sofa.
you lay under a stream of blankets, head atop the array of cushions to make you look cosier than ever. your mouth agape and fingers weakly hold the top hem of the blanket while you sleep, failing from staying up for your boyfriend’s return.
“scared the fuck outta me, love, hm?” tangerine whispers sweetly as he kneels down in front of your figure, a hand reaching up to soothe over your cheek which feels softer and warmer than normal. he can’t help but indulge in the feeling of you back in arm’s length, weeks on a life-threatening job feeling significantly longer as he thought he may never see your face again.
you looked safe and sound, simply well-rested and content which made tangerine’s heart swell at the idea of how easily you trust your man, knowing he would be home and that you won’t ever be in harm’s way. and he would die making sure of that.
“hate to interrupt the reunion, but she’s in my bed for the night.”
normally, tangerine would sigh, normally he would roll his eyes, yell and even swear within every sentence. but the mere feeling of your cheek so soft and the gentle hit of your breath against his wrist, tangerine grin widens while he moves to stand.
“shut the fuck up, will ya?” his sentence sounding annoyed but tangerine far from it while his eyes don’t move from your face, bending forward to move the blankets from you and lift you up and into his large arms.
you squirm at the cold english weather hitting your pyjama-covered state, lulling you out your deep sleep while feeling the warm frame of tangerine’s chest against your arm. “shh, go to sleep, love. i’m home, we’re going to bed,” tangerine starts before you even have a chance to open your eyes.
stopping at the bottom of the steps, he looks to his brother, “bed all set… sweet dreams, darling.” lemon grunts and shakes his head at his brother’s usual sarcasm behind his happy tone, looking down to the warm couch while tangerine guides you both up the stairs.
you grin widely through your tired eyes when you see your boyfriend back in front of you, always scared you might have to hear he won’t come back from his next job. tangerine looks back down to you when you cup his face, saying his name with the happiest smile you could muster in the extra early hours of the morning.
“up for a cuddle in bed, my love?” he flinches when your thumb accidentally pokes his moustache, your thumb gently soothing over it as an apology when you reply, “i always am.” tangerine shakes his head to himself at the sight of you back in front of him, back in his arms and ready to be right up until the next job.
he doesn’t understand his luck. how did a sad little man, intolerant and angry who kills for a living able to find such a kind-heated soul ready to love him in ways he never knew he wanted until you came along. but you saw him for who he was, irretrievably loyal and loving in his own ways.
“i fuckin’ love you, do y’know that?” tangerine asks, stopping at the end of your shared bed as he awaits your answer. you kiss the corner of his mouth, so soft and light but enough to make his head dizzy and knees weak while he chases your lips for a proper kiss in return.
“good thing that i love you then. more than anyone.”
When I was a child, from the time I was about four and could understand things, my mom told me and my brother that we should have a secret word. That way, if we were ever in trouble or felt unsafe and we didn’t want the people around us to know we needed her to come get us, we could let her know. So she let us pick the word and my brother and I chose the phrase “peanut butter cups.” (I’m happy to share the phrase now since both my brother and I are adults now).
I used the phrase twice in my life. Once, I was at a friends house when I eight years old. Her dad got really drunk and was throwing things against the wall. I was really scared and I didn’t want to draw attention to myself on the phone when I called my mom to come get me because I didn’t know if he would get more violent if I asked her to come get me. So I called her and was calm and after a couple minutes I asked “Hey mommy, did you get me those peanut butter cups from the store?” And she said “I’ll be right there.” And she came and got me within minutes.
Second, I was a teenager spending the night at a friends house. Her brother and dad were drinking and they started talking about things that made me uncomfortable - ie: what they liked to do to women. My friend didn’t seem perturbed and said that was normal for them and that I shouldn’t worry. But I was worried because they were really drunk and I was 15 and the only ‘woman’ around that wasn’t related to them. I went in my friends room, told her I needed to call my mom and say goodnight. Before I hung up with her I asked “Next time we go to the store, can we get some peanut butters cups? I’ve been craving them.” And she came and got me, just like that.
Two incidents, one as a young child, one years later as a teen. Don’t discredit this stuff, it fucking works. My brother used it a few times too. Let your child pick the word and no never, ever, ever, ever get mad at them for using it no matter what it is.
Off topic, but very important! I was taught to yell “this is not my mom/dad.” A young kid freaking out in public is likely to be ignored out of embarrassment, but a kid telling you right out that they don’t know who is messing with them? That will turn heads.
I feel like this should be said too if you see a child yelling things like “this isn’t my mum, or I don’t know you” or something don’t ignore them! This system relies on people actually helping the child! It dosent matter how rude you’ll seem or how anxious you are you could be saving a child’s life!
Even if you just ask the child “Do you know this person” if the adult butt’s in make sure to ASK THE CHILD! Even a shy kid will tell you they don’t know this person or just met them or something!
Summary ; Lucifer and Reader have the house to themselves, just some self-indulgent fluff
Warnings ; mentions that reader doesn’t take care of themselves very well, or consistently though I don’t go into detail so it could be anything, they could just be lazy. Implied sexual interactions but nothing actually happens. Reader has hair, so if your bald…. I apologise.
You were so warm, wrapped up in silk sheets with Lucifer’s body heat fending off the cold. It was quiet at the house of Lamination. All the other brothers had gone out for a night of partying and fun, Lucifer being more than happy to send them off to get the house to yourselves. It was still early evening, but you had suggested you both take a nap, and Lucifer was more than happy to get a break. His head was tucked into your shoulder, spooning and keeping you still. Him body enveloping yours brought such a lovely sense of calm to the room. You both still had plans, Lucifer had suggested you both made a cake while Beel wasn’t here to eat it. Lucifer had more fun and adventurous ideas for later before the others got back. Lucifer snuggled further into your neck, taking a deep breath in. “you smell nice” Lucifer said, his voice deeper than usual from his nap. You chuckle to yourself, turning to him to look at his sleepy face. “yeah? I just prayed on some perfume” his eyes opened at your statement, glaring at you slightly. “When’s the last time you had a bath?” he said, eyes narrowing more when you gave him a sheepish smile. He closes his eyes, sighing to himself and starts to get up from the bed, somehow his hair looking as perfect as always. “Let’s go have a bath together then” he said, a slight smirk on his face as he said it. You stare at him for a second and shake your head “Ill take on alone thanks” he laughs at your answer, shaking his head to himself as his did. “Not what I meant, we have plenty of time for that later. I meant just a nice relaxing bath together. We can even steal one of Asmo’s bath bombs.” You consider his offer for a second, before the thought of him washing your hair for you convincing you.
Sat in the bath with your back to lucifer while he kneaded his fingers through your hair almost lulling you to sleep was how you found yourself 20 minutes later. your eyes were closed at this point, just allowing Lucifer to take care of you as he always did. He was rinsing the shampoo from your hair now, cupping his hand to avoid any getting in your eyes. Lucifer could be so sweet when he allowed himself to be, so giving and caring. You were honoured to know he kept this soft love just for you, only you got cuddled like a teddy in bed, only you got such care and attention from him. He wasn’t the best when it came to expressing how he felt sometimes, but you knew he loved you, from the way he massaged your hair, to the way he aided you in your studies. Constantly checking to see if you were falling behind, and that you were comfortable. He was running his fingers through the ends of your hair now, spreading the conditioner through your hair. You knew you would need to leave this blissful peace soon, but for now you let yourself relax back into him, knowing that even if you fall asleep he’ll make sure your ok.
This is glorious and even thought it doesn’t fit in the range of all the paranormal, I MUST share
It works like this: You tell Kitestring that you’re in a dangerous place or situation, and give it a time frame of when to check in on you. If you don’t reply back when it checks your status, it’ll alert your emergency contacts with a custom message you set up.
It doesn’t require you to touch anything (like bSafe) or shake your phone (like Nirbhaya) to send the distress signal. Kitestring is smarter, because it doesn’t need an action to alert people, it needs inaction.
Ok, guys. Thi is really important.
You have to reblog that and read the whole article.
This will never happen to me.
You can’t tell. Otherwise, if you don’t want to do for yourself, maybe among your follwers someone need this information.
I’m a man, i don’t care.
You should care the more. What if it was your sister? Again, spread the word. There may be someone needingths.
You can never tell. As far as we can’t handle back maniacs, PLEASE, prevent yourself <3
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