#Nothing like a character getting what they wanted and finding its not all it’s cracked up to be

[cryptvokeeper]

In my time honored tradition of “I like rise Leo but in a slightly to the left way of the general fanon interpretation” I propose: yes, Leo was being a bad leader and not communicating with his team during the movie because he didn’t want the responsibility of being leader HOWEVER he was not purposely self-sabotaging in an effort to get Raph to take leadership back. Instead, he was going solo and not working with anyone in order to avoid leadership altogether and not make calls and decisions that could potentially fail.

[soullessdianthus]

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 | 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐱 𝐊ö𝐧𝐢𝐠)

Summary: During the mission somewhere in Austria, König takes an interest in TF 141 medic. Little did he know, she's Lieutenants Riley's girlfriend.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐

A/N: Possessive/Protective boyfriend Ghost? Yes, double and give to the next person. Also inserted Hank/Connor "lieutenant" reference, I just find it funny. Y/C ━ Your Codename (have fun, pick something babes) Poorly translated German ━ correct me if needed!

Warnings: nothing, reader is eastern european coded (we deserve more recognition as reader inserts ꃋᴖꃋ )

Word count: 1.8k

The tree line of the thick forest melted into the base of the rocky mountains. Your gaze traveled across its pointy shapes and up higher - there hadn’t been a single cloud on the sky that day, causing a slight heatwave.

You let your body slightly wag as the car passed over surface bumps on the earthen road. The dry lump grew in your throat as the dust hovered all over the convoy and all you could think of was a sip of cold, mineral water. 

Soon, you reached the small town in Austria, secluded from the ring roads. The cars were parked near the surrounding forest at the entrance of the village. Lieutenant Riley's sight crossed with yours as he helped you get out of the truck. 

He could be such a gentleman sometimes. 

A handful of soldiers gathered near the vehicles - some of them wearing a KorTac patch on their shoulders, the other ones (from your unit) a Task Force 141 badge. But besides those sigils, none of them were wearing full battle gear. 

There was no active fighting against the enemy at the moment. It was just a careful chase after the terrorists - following their footsteps, interviewing associates, gathering proof. Because at the end of the day, the military (or army related organization) cannot shed blood over a defamation.

But KorTac and TF 141? Quite an unusual partnership between the two groups, right?

━ Ghost, Y/C you’re goin’ with me ━ Captain Price announced, adjusting his hat as he closed the car’s doors behind him. ━ Gaz, you’ll stay here, is that clear? 

Captain heard a firm ‘yes, sir’ from your teammate Kyle who was to stay at the parking spot. Meanwhile the KorTac colonel gave an order to his soldiers in German. “Such a tough language” you thought to yourself. Only two of his people went along the wood road with the rest of you.

The Colonel. 

Exceptionally tall, Austrian man who served many years for his country. The one you found yourself in on the latest mission. 

Each time you wanted to look at him while Colonel König was speaking, you had to chin up. And even though, a black hood with a red paint on it covered his whole face besides his cold, blue eyes. He was lowkey intimidating with his massive size, but just like your captain, the Austrian’s rough looks didn’t reflect his character. At least to you and your comrades he was quite nice. 

Unfortunately, you couldn’t say the same about his teammates. 

You didn’t have to walk for long as the isolated, one floor house emerged behind a hill. By the quick peek at that building and the noises coming from the inside you knew, it felt like a warm home. 

As you approached the building, you heard a child’s cry. 

Price knocked at the front door and soon after a man with dark bags under his eyes opened them slightly. He was peeking through the crack.

━ Jakob Hausner? ━ The Captain asked with a playful smile under his mustache, his thumbs interlocked with the gear straps over his chest. 

━ Ja, wie kann ich helfen? [ger.: Yes, how can I help?]

━ Can you ask him if he speaks english? ━ John looked over his shoulder towards König, asking for a favor. 

━ Yes, I speak english ━ master of the house answered with a thick accent, before colonel could translate. ━ What do you want? 

He wasn’t trusting at all, well, how could he? You were all strangers at his doorsteps, two of your partners wearing scary looking masks. But it all had a purpose - they were supposed to look… intimidating, yes? 

A loud wailing made their ears hurt, it was that damn baby again. Jakob sighed loudly, his shoulder collapsing as he opened the doors a little bit more.

━ We just want to talk about the company you were working for. ━ Price continued talking. 

━ About them again? ━ Mr. Hausner frowned his eyebrows and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Poor man was exhausted apparently. ━ Okay, okay, ja, come in. 

The man let you all inside, however König told his soldiers to have a look outside the plot - to make sure it’s safe here and you’re not being watched. Poor Jakob wasn’t even fully aware (because of his state) that he let in a group of military people inside of his home.

As soon as you crossed the hallway into the dining room with a big, wooden table, you noticed a struggling toddler in a children’s chair. The girl was crying, her face red from the tantrum. 

━ I’m sorry, it’s just my daughter, she… she doesn’t want to eat her–. Lina, bitte. [ger.: Lina, please.]

Being a parent. Must be tough, huh?

Not when you were forced to babysit your siblings or cousins since you were a teenager. 

━ She’s not hungry. ━ You noticed the way the little girl pushed her plate away and how she tried to climb out of the seat. Christ, that man really had to be exhausted. ━ Can I?

You took a few slow and calm steps towards the sitting child - a warm smile painted over your face. Even your boyfriend Ghost was slightly… surprised? Seeing you drop the apathetic shell, then becoming more warm and gentle towards the little girl.

━ She’s our medic ━ your Captain explained to the worried father ━ let her take the kid and we’ll have a talk. In peace. 

Mr. Hausner let you take care of his unsettled daughter, so they could have a conversation about his former employers. You took the girl out of her chair and placed her over your left hip, pushing it outward. 

━ Come, Lina ━ you addressed the girl by her name, even though she probably couldn’t understand what you were saying ━ let’s leave the stinky men alone, ja?

You left the dining room and entered the seemingly endless garden behind the house. Since you took that girl in your hands she already began to calm down, perhaps a woman's touch was all she needed? 

“Where was your mother? Was she at work working a long shift? Did something happen to her? Did the bad men–” your thoughts seemed to take a rather pessimistic route, so you had to quickly change it. 

You didn’t know much German. Well, you didn’t know any at all. 

Fuck.

But at that moment you were thanking the heavens that your father watched movies about Hans Kloss or war on a regular basis. You were happy that your father was taught some phrases and somewhere in your subconsciousness he passed them to you.

You sat on the wooden bench somewhere in the garden not far from the building. Then, you placed the child on your lap and began talking to her - mostly in your mother tongue. Then you added some words in German that you knew, like: 

━ Schau, schmetterling! [ger.: Look, a butterfly!] 

Soon you grew more comfortable around the girl named Lina, even though there was a language barrier. Without your knowledge, your legs began to bounce her, pretending she was riding a horse. 

If anyone would point that out later, you would certainly deny it. You, getting soft for a child? No, no, no. 

You were so occupied with entertaining her that you didn’t even notice a looming, black figure in the corner of your eye. Watching the scene from somewhere nearby.

König was standing just next to the doors, leaving against the white plaster on the outside walls. He listened to your attempts to speak German, finding it… adorable? 

Never did he meet a woman in his profession so empathetic and gentle. Especially the one who managed to catch his attention. Let’s be honest, most of them were cold blood murderers and he was a colonel - he couldn’t let himself have such a luxury of having a family. 

Until now.

His imagination began to play a nasty and stupid trick on him - just because he saw you speaking German with a kid. What if it was you to take care of his children? Were your hands usually this delicate? Would you care for him as much?

The tall soldier was intrigued by you and his dreamy stare exposed him for it.

━ Don’t even think about it. ━ Ghost voice snapped him back to the reality. The British soldier emerged from the building the same way the colonel did after the conversation came to an end with Mr. Hausner.

Simon Riley wasn’t a fool. He noticed all the little peaks at his girlfriend other soldiers usually would take, she was in fact a pretty thing. So it didn’t take much to notice that the tall guy from KorTac took a liking of you. Too much liking in Ghost’s opinion. 

━ Verzeihung [ger.: Excuse me] ━ König apologized, flustered slightly by obviousness of the situation. He instantly understood the reference. ━ didn’t know she was… taken. 

━ Yeah ━ British lieutenant scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. His dark irises didn’t even dare to stare at him. His eyes were on you ━ she’s very much taken. 

There was a dead silence between the two of them - for a short moment, before Ghost gave you a heads up. 

━ Y/C, we’re moving. 

The rough and firm tone of Ghost’s voice made you snap back into reality. You were in the middle of something, right? Yet, you almost jumped on that little bench painted in floral patterns. 

━ Coming, lieutenant. ━ You declared quickly, before putting the little girl over your hip again and heading inside of her home. 

Ghost was a few steps ahead and so you had to pass the massive figure of König to go inside again. You pressed the child’s head into your cleavage as she was a little scared of colonel’s hood. 

Well, you would be too, if you saw his cold stare in the middle of the night from under that veil, right?

━ Don’t worry, he just looks scary. He won’t bite. Isn’t that right, sir? ━ You sent him a polite smile as you tried to comfort the petrified girl. Your hand caressing her golden locks.

But he was speechless at the moment. He couldn’t form a simple sentence. A fucking grown ass man. “So fucking pathetic”, he thought to himself. Your lips twisting into a wide smile for him. It wouldn’t be easy for him to erase that sight from his memory. König would have trouble falling asleep that night, thinking of you.

A/N: ♪ Two big guys and they grab on my thighs ♪

[timewillpasssoon]

hiii can you write a joost x female reader angst? they argue, he yells/says some mean stuff but it ends in fluff? 🫶

HOW COULD YOU?

pairing . Joost Klein x fem!reader

content . angst, the dutch in this is from google translate so if its bad lmk, mentions of yelling, insults, stress, alcohol, eurovision disqualification, fluff at the end

summary . when joost urges you to leave the house on a cold night, he starts to regret not opening up to you in the first place.

word count . 1.2k words , 6.5k characters

author's note . quick question, are y'all interested in nsfw? just wondering, if so send some ask.

You and Joost stood in the middle of the living room, tension crackling in the air, geting thicker and thicker as time passes by. His words cut through you like a knife, each one sharper than the last. For the past hour you've been trying to get Joost to eat and open up.. He would turn away and say he's not hungry. He'll say he's not hurting. He lies through his teeth, he was hungry and in pain, desperate need of help. So why doesn't he want it You? You tried to get him to open up to you, but you just couldn't. Everytime an attempt was made, he would slightly raise his voice.

Then finally, he yelled, his voice rising in frustration. Your eyes welled up with tears as you tried to hold back your own anger. "I'm your girlfriend, liefde! I'm here when you need someone to lean on!" You wanted to scream it out, yet it came out as a whisper, your voice cracking with emotion. He scoffed, his anger still beneath the surface.

"Well I don't need you! I am perfectly fine, there is nothing we need to talk about!"

"Can you atleast eat!?"

"For crying out loud I'm not hungry! Just stop being such a bitch."

The argument escalated, each word a dagger aimed at your heart. Joost's voice echoed off the walls, the last word hanging on your brain.

"You just don't get it, do you?" You looked at him in the eyes, rage and empathy were the only two things you could feel. "You clearly are in pain because of the disqualification! Just talk to me- we've been dating for 2 years, for crying out loud! Yet you still can't tell me your problems? Wat een man ben jij." (What a man you are.)

"You can't keep pretending like everything's okay when it's not!" Tears stung your eyes as you struggled to find what words to say.

"I thought we could work through this together." You uttered out, your voice trembling. Joost shook his head. "I don't know if we can," he admitted. He looked down, slowly then turning to the front door. "You should go."

You shake your head, words can't come out your mouth. Your tongue is tied together and you don't know if you can untie it. "Joost- please."

"I said get out. Ik wil je niet zien." (I don't want to see you.)

Your heart was throbbing so fast it felt louder than him,.Joost is staring at the front door then turns to you, red puffy eyes with baby tears coming out from both eyes. His blonde hair was a mess. It was covering most of his eyes but you can still see the pain in them.

"Prima." (Fine.) You take big steps yet they feel like your still miles away from your destination. You go to open the front door, "I hope you come to your senses."

Those were the last words he heard from you. Before you walked out. It's been two hours since you left his house...

and frankly, he's scared. He kicked you out in the middle of the night. It was eight pm when he demanded you to leave and with each second goes by, its past ten.

He calls you, he leaves voicemails, texts messages.

Still nothing. Checked social media and there was still nada.

God he felt awful, the worst boyfriend in the world. All of this happened because he didn't want to cry in your arms. He really did want to let loose, reveal that everything is not okay.

Yet he couldn't.

He didn't want to burden you with his problems anymore. Joost felt like he had too much baggage no one wanted to hear. He thought that everyone wants his happy-go-lucky side. You jusy wanted his true self. The Joost that is willing to tell you his feelings.

He decided to call one of your friends that happened to live by the neighborhood.

"Hello?"

"Is reader with you?"

The other line was quite crispy, Joost can hear a tv in the background, sounded like laughter in the back, maybe a comedy.

"No, why? Is everything alright?"

Joost sighed, fidgeting with a stand of hair. "No, me and her got into a fight and I made her leave- I haven't heard from her!" He exclaimed.

"Woah, woah, deep breaths." The friend on the line said, "Don't you have her location? Check if she's near the area, I'll stay on the line while you do that."

Joost quickly checked his phone to see if you turned off your location. You didn't, you forgot to. "She's in the nearest bar!" The friend hummed. "Go to her, she only drinks when she's stressed the hell out."

"Thank you so much," Joost happened to be crying again, quickly grabbing his keys and jacket. "No problem, get get her." The friend hung up on him as he raced to your location, being around eight minutes away if he ran the whole way.

He bolted as fast as he could, petrified about your safety. Where if you're black out drunk or not.

Pacing to the bar, precious seconds going by, he finally made it. it was one of the least popular bars near so there wasn't any hassle to get in. As he walked inside, he saw a women with the same color hair as you. Your head down on the table with around two shot glasses, there was three more earlier, the bartender just took them.

He sped-walked towards you, careful and still just incase you were still mad at him. He tapped you on your shoulder, but you didn't raise your head up.

"Ik heb een vriendje." (I have a boyfriend.) Was all you said. "I know." Joost calmly answered, his accent triggered you to lift your head up.

"Joost?" He nodded as he sat down next to you, his hand reaching for yours. You didn't push away his hand, as much as you wanted to, you knew he was in pain.

"Why are you here?" You softly say. You'll like to say you ignored him but you couldn't. You were certainly mad at him, but he had his reasons of sheltering himself away. So you listened instead of scolding.

"Reader, I'm so sorry- I didn't want to bother you with my problems. I feel like I just have too much going on for you to care." You felt destroyed at the thought of Joost think you don't care for him. Joost was rubbing circles on your palms.

He continued, "Can we go home, I would rather we talk there."

You smile at the chance of him opening up. You immediately say yes, standing up to leave. All your drinks were already paid for.

As the quiet, yet comfortable, walk back home he held you tight. Clinging onto your left arm for dear life. He still felt guilty for leaving you.

All alone in the streets. You told him it wasn't a big deal, that you could protect yourself. Yet the feeling guilt was still there, on his tongue. The taste was horrid.

Joost unlocked the door, letting you step inside first before closing the door behind him. That's where you engulfed him in a huge hug. Tears coming back for the fourth time.

That night ended with a deep conversation, with cuddles on the couch along with some ice cream half way eaten.

"I appreciate you having the courage to tell me all this."

You muttered your sentence out, about to knock out cold, your body longed for sleep but you kept awake for a bit while.

"I should thank you."

He smiled, tugging you closer to him. You can feel his hot breath breezing though the right side of your neck.

The warmth of each other's bodies made you two warm. You still weren't ready to give up on him.

You'll never give up on him.

LETSGOO FINISHED THIS IN 3 HOURS!! part 2 of let me think... is in the works don't worry, i have two other requests on the way as well.

im okay with nsfw requests, even if its a bit spicy or all the way. check out my other account!!

[cades-outsider]

Robby Keene X Reader

Warnings: None, it’s mainly just fluff! This is S3 because I am IN LOVE with S3 Robby!

Side Note: I am not stopping the Cobra Kai writings! I am going to be focusing on Milo Manheim characters as well, so if you like any of his characters, send in requests! I have a special Ryan Baker smut coming up! 😩🤚

Your heart raced as you walked down the halls of the juvenile detention center in which they were holding Robby, a guard escorting you to your destination. Going through two big white double doors, catching the attention of a bunch of juvie inmates.

A bunch of squared silver chairs and tables came into view, but it seemed as if time had stopped once you spotted Robby, his hands covering his mouth anxiously waiting. Bobby, one of Johnny's best friends sat beside him. He was the one who was able to get you in to see Robby so soon, apparently you weren't old enough to visit him by yourself. Which you thought was stupid.

With every walk towards Robby your body was shaking, you were nervous. Not because of what happened that led him in here, but because of how he would react to you wanting to see him.

Bobby's head perked up as he seen you, he waved you over with a soft smile causing Robby to turn around. His lips parted as he was in shock, surprised that you actually showed. But more importantly shocked that you actually wanted to see him after what happened.

Robby stood up slowly as you walked closer to him, you couldn't hug because of the no touching rule. But you wanted to, and by his reaction you knew he wanted to as well.

You smiled at Bobby as he led you to take a seat beside him, Robby turned back around and took his seat, lips still parted, too shocked to speak.

Bobby looked back and forth at you both awkwardly for a moment before pointing behind him "I'll let you guys.... catch up" He spoke before walking away.

"You're- you're here...." Robby said lowly, as if in disbelief. He wouldn't have blamed you for not coming.

"I'm always here for you Robby..." You placed your elbows on the silver table, resting your chin on your hand.

Your eyes couldn't escape his, you had missed him so much and you didn't want to look away. The slightest smile fell across Robby's lips as he cleared his throat.

"So... what have you been up too?" He questions, wanting to know if you've been okay.

"Missing you" You crack a smile with your answer.

Robby let's out a small chuckle, with a side smile "besides that..." He jokes lightly.

You sigh, pretending to think "nothing too interesting, everything's pretty much been quiet" Your tone changes with every word you speak. It's as if Robby sensed your emotions, he raised his eyebrows and looked down slightly, disappointed with himself.

"Is... is Miguel okay?" Robby questions nervously, bitting his fingernail as he looks up at you. Almost not wanting to know the answer to that question.

"He's okay Robby, he's healing" You tell him sincerely.

You could see the pure guilt written on his face, the regret. "Hey..." You grab his hand that was laying on the table, completely disregarding the rules.

"I don't blame you for any of it... I know you would take it all back in a heart beat if you could, but it'll be okay..." You said lovingly. But you also didn't quite know what to say, you hoped he wouldn't take it the wrong way.

Robby's eyes bore into yours, you start rethinking your words for a moment until he nods his head, closing his eyes. A small tear rolling down his cheek.

Your hand finds its way to his right cheek, wiping the tear away gently. Your thumb runs over the purple and red bruise that lied there.

"What happened...?" You basically whisper.

"Just a couple of guys. No big deal" He tries to speak as convincing as possible, you could tell there was more to it but you decide not to push him further.

"I miss you Robby... a lot" You say, placing both of your hands on top of his free hand.

"I miss you too..." Robby says, his side smile starting to show.

Soon your sincere moment is broken up by Bobby placing his hand on your shoulder letting you know that your time was up. You nod letting him know you got the message, before turning back to Robby.

"I don't know when or if I'll be able to come back and visit you, but I'll be here to pick you up when you get out" You say, a small smile falling across your lips.

Robby nods his head in understanding, his heart leaping at such a promise. Though apart of him didn't expect you to keep it. Bobby and some of the guards lead you out of the waiting room, your eyes stayed glued to his as much as they could. You could feel Robby’s stare on you, and you knew that his eyes were still trained on the metal doors even when you were out of his sight.

*THREE MONTHS LATER*

Pulling up your car into one of the driveways at the detention center you spot both Daniel LaRusso and Johnny Lawrence at the doors, bickering. Daniel was your dad and Johnny was Robby's dad. You let out a sigh as you step out of your car, leaning on the side of it. You watched as Johnny and Daniel kept yelling at eachother.

"So you got it all under control?" Daniel interrogates.

"Yeah, I do." Johnny nods his head.

"Just like you had Kreese under control? Right?-" Daniel pauses. "-what did you think would happen when you summoned that devil back to earth?" He finishes, almost as if it was a rhetorical question.

"Kreese is my problem" Johnny states, tilting his head up.

"Not anymore. He's made it crystal clear that he's everyone's problem... as usual I'm gonna have to be the one that cleans up your mess" Daniel sighs.

"I clean up my own messes.... and I'm dealing with it" Johnny says louder, walking up to Daniel.

"Yeah and how exactly are you dealing with it? What are you gonna do, barge in there and beat him up. That worked real well with the guys at the chop-shop" Daniel smart mouths, using his hands as references.

"Those guys deserved it..." Johnny says.

"That's your problem Johnny..." Daniel starts, but before he could finish you drown them out, rolling your eyes at their antics, they acted like they were teenagers all over again.

"Seriously?" You hear a familiar voice interrupt the two kids.

You perk up leaning off your car and getting a good look at Robby, "Robby..." Daniel says, turning to look at him.

"Hey Robby" Johnny says as Robby takes a few steps closer to try and pass them, not yet spotting you.

Robby looks at Johnny "I told you i don't want you here." He says nodding his head upwards as if pointing to Johnny.

"You're my son, I wanted to be here" Johnny says 'as a matter of fact'.

"and so did I..." Daniel speaks up.

Robby turns to look at his and squints his eyes "Don't do me any favors, it's your fault I was in here" He blames.

"Listen I know you're upset but I was doing what was best for you...-" Daniel starts as Robby rolls his eyes, looking away "now that you're here I want you to know you'll always have a home at Miyagi Do." Daniel says sincerely.

Johnny steps up demandingly "you're with me." He says.

Robby looks back and forth at the two of them, pursing his lips, an angry expression on his face "both of you. Stay out of my life" He says before walking off.

He stops in his tracks as he makes eye contact with you, both Daniel and Johnny stop their staring contest with each other and turn towards you, just now noticing your presence. "Y/n? What the hell are you doing here?!" Daniel yells from afar.

"I came to pick up my boyfriend" You say as if it was a stupid question to ask. You see Robby let out a small side smile as you make eye contact with him once again, you smile and nod your head to your car. "You coming?" You question, a small smile placed on your face.

Robby nods his head as he walks over to the passengers side and takes his seat, you doing the same in the drivers side. You pass by Johnny and Daniel, both of them looking baffled. Daniel had a look of defeat and annoyance on his face, while Johnny’s face held a grin. He always liked you, despite your dads and his rivalry.

You make it down the road before looking over at Robby, "Thanks for coming Y/n..." He says as he sinks back in his seat.

"Of course babe, I wasn't gonna miss coming to get you" You smile, turning on a green light.

You look over for just a split second to catch Robby's side smile, "you hungry?" You question, looking back at him on a red light. "I could eat" He replies before resting his arm against the door, looking out the window.

You decided not to rush him into talking. You didn't want to overwhelm him, especially after what just happened moments before. Instead, you drove to In-n-Out.

You decided to drive to Miyagi Do, you knew nobody would be there at this time of day and you wanted a place to eat and talk alone with Robby. You parked your car horizontal to the dojo. You handed Robby his food and ate in silence for the first few minutes.

After Robby finished his food you decided to wrap the rest of yours up and put it back in the paper bag. You could feel Robby practically staring daggers into your head.

"Why did you come?" He finally spoke up.

You look up at him confused by his question, "what do you mean Robby?" You asked, furrowing your brows.

"That day, with Bobby. Why did you come?" He clarifies.

"Because I love you Robby" You state, staring into his eyes that are scrunched up in confusion.

"Did you not want me to come...?" You couldn't help but ask.

"It's not that, I just... no one's ever showed up for me like that and I just wanted to know why.... especially after what I did" Robby says, breaking eye contact to look at the floorboard.

"Robby... what happened was horrible, but I'm always going to be in your corner. I'm always going to be there for you" You say, as Robby feels his heart skip a beat.

He finally manages to look you back in your eyes and when you get to see his face, his eyes are filled with tears that won't stop rushing down. The small bags under his eyes are slightly red, as he finally reveals his vulnerable self to you.

"I need you Y/n" He cries, and you take that as your sign to unbuckle your seat and place yourself in Robby's lap.

His hands hold onto your waist for dear life as he looks up, and into your eyes. You place your right hand against his face, rubbing your thumb back and forth on his soft skin.

Your legs wrap firmly around Robby's waist as you place your lips on his. His lips fight with yours as his tears fall against both of your lips, it becomes messy and filled with love.

Robby pulls away to lean his forehead against yours, both his hands now holding onto the sides of your face only for his lips to be back on yours "I love you" he mumbles against your lips.

"I love you Robby" Your voice comes out as a whisper against his lips.

You pull away from his lips, your eyes gazing over every inch of his face, Robby's eyes are still closed as another tear rolls down his face. You take that as your sign to tightly embrace him in a hug.

His arms wrap firmly around your waist, hands resting on your back as he lets his head fall onto your shoulder, his body starts shaking as he starts crying harder, holding onto you for dear life.

  You stay like that for a while, until his breathing calms down and his tears fade away. Still on his lap, you pull away from the hug while his hands drop down to your waist.

  Robby's glossy eyes meet yours "I have something for you" You say before lightly placing your lips on his for a brief moment before getting off his lap and returning back to the drivers seat.

  You don't give him a chance to speak before you're already driving away from Miyagi Do. A little while later you pull up to his old apartment building.

  Robby looks at the building and back to you with a confused look on his face as you park the car. "Come on, it's just in here" You give him a small, innocent smile.

  You both get out the car, grabbing Robby's hand you walk into the complex and in the elevator to his apartment door. You grab the keys out of your back pocket and unlock the door, letting Robby in first.

  "Y/n what is this?" Robby questions looking around the apartment, as he noticed how clean and kept up it looked.

  "Well... while you were in juvie I decided to fix it up for you, I got permission from your mom and everything's taken care of, the fridge is full of food and the rents payed off for a while, so you don't have to worry about anything" You explain while you close the apartment door. You knew your dad, Daniel, would have some words to say about it, but you didn’t care, Robby needed someone, he needed you.

  Robby takes in every detail of the apartment until you're his main focus, your nerves start to take over as he walks up to you. He brings his hand to your cheek, his thumb moves back and forth in slow motions. His eyes move back and forth to yours and your lips.

  He's lost for words, but he manages to speak "you didn't have to do this, I could've figured something out on my own..." Robby says. Every part of him wanted to reject the offer, fearing it was out of pity but he knew by the sweetness in your voice that you truly just wanted to be there for him. Help him.

  "I know, but now you don't have to worry about that" You give him a small smile as you speak.

You don't give him the chance to say anything before you speak again "I want to help you Robby, not because of pity or feeling like I have too, but because I love you an-" Your sentence is cut off by Robby's lips on yours.

Both of his hands are now grasping your face, his lips move against yours with so much love and compassion as he pushes you up against the door. Your right hand goes to his shoulder as your left hand rests on his jaw.

You both make out for a while, it wasn’t any regular heated make out. No…. It was filled with love, warmth, and desperation. This was Robby’s way of saying thank you. You didn’t know what would happen in the future, or where this teenage love would lead you both, but you were more than willing to love him with every fiber in your body.

You were willing to be there for him.

[worldume]

TWO DEMONS AND AN ANGEL….

˖┊ spotlight: yamato endo & chika takiishi.

˖┊ synopsis: (name) is endo and chika's favorite coloring book! they love to bully their sweet little lamb into doing things she’s not comfortable with. why? because they can & its fun!

˖┊ content: dark content, power imbalance relationship, bullying, themes of humiliation, implied polygamy, toxic relationship, coerced piercing, christina piercing, needles, alcohol transfer from mouth to mouth, afab reader, she/her pronouns, canonverse but endo and chika own a sleazy tattoo shop, tattoo artist endo, piercer chika for lore purposes, all characters are adults/aged up, endo and chika are awful!

˖┊ word count: 2k.

“you scared?”

“n—no but—” (name) stammered under his gaze, her voice cracking as she struggled to find her words. she averted her gaze from him, finding a sudden interest at chika moving about through the room as he gathered a few things around their shop. it was tucked away in a narrow sketchy alley in japan that looked like the kind of place only those in the know would visit— covered in graffiti and old posters with a flickering neon sign. the place had the vibe of a dive bar.

there was a small furrow in her brows and her lips tugged slightly in a glossy pout. no fair.. no fair!

looking at endo was so.. difficult for a couple reasons. number one: he was so fucking attractive. the kind of attractive that made her shy away from his gaze because she started to feel self conscious about everything little thing. did he like her hair? her makeup? the outfit she wore today? but more importantly, he could be just so mean if someone caught him on a bad day— he was finicky with his moods. and sometimes he didn’t want anyone looking him directly in the eye.

she’s witnessed first hand how brutally yamato beats people into a shell of themselves— weak people who he believes test who’s a poser and who’s not. endo is a pretty laid back guys for the most part, but, he has very little respect and tolerance for those who are weak. he thinks they’re boring, a drag and a complete waste of his fucking time. weak people get under his skin. weak people disgust him. weak people don’t deserve to call themselves human. and he couldn’t stand when weak people paraded around as though they weren’t.

but (name) was weak. so it makes her wonder why he keeps her around— why the both of them keep her around.. they’re not laughing at her behind her back right? she helps around.. sure she wasn’t the strongest person physically but she has uses.. or at least that’s what she tells herself.

you see, (name) is a pushover. a people pleaser. and a pathetic excuse for a spine. which is precisely why endo initially took such an interest to the girl— the irony, right? endo was just.. so tickled by it he giggled like a little kid who was told their first joke. he’s never seen anyone quite as pitiful as her. but he supposes women were an exception, right? endo almost found it.. cute? (name)’s looks were really the cherry on top of it all— a pretty little bow to wrap his present. just how could someone as pretty as her be such a.. disappointment. endo almost found it to be a waste of a perfectly good vessel, but.. he found that he gained some sort of sick gratification from bullying (name).

it was fun for him. and something to help pass the time when there’s nothing interesting going on. it was sad really— some of the things they made her do were nothing more than mere humiliation tactics that served no real purpose other than to see her actually do everything she’s told. no questions asked. like controlling when she use the bathroom, a “dress code” that usually consisted of micro mini skirts and the requirement of no panties, making her call herself awful things when she fails (bitch, slut and whore are some of noroshi’s favorites), her mouth being used as an ashtray— the list can go on.

‘how did such a sweet girl like (name) get caught up in this crowd?’ is what all the sweet townspeople of makochi ask amongst themselves when they see her on an off chance visiting her mom. but no one would be able to guess that she devoted herself to these men by choice. (name) felt as though she were indebted to endo and chika. that she owed the both of them all of herself because they saved her.

there had been a night where she had found herself walking alone after a night out with her friends, she was a little bit more than tipsy and stumbled across an alley she shouldn’t have. (name) remembers it well— stopping to pull out her phone for her gps. (name) hadn’t have been familiar with the area so she hadn’t been quite sure where she was. there was a voice behind her and all she knows is that she was being grabbed— she remembers screaming for help and thinking that it was her end. but that’s when they came to help her.

she remembers endo’s eyes that night when he got on one knee to match her level— her eyes drifting to chika who stood behind him. (name) couldn’t have been more thankful, they were her saviors..

that was then but now (name) felt as though she were walking on a pit of eggshells and thin ice— something seemingly so simple as holding the eye contact he was so insistent on made her feel uneasy sometimes which was so unfortunate because he has such pretty eyes. as much as she admired him, endo often used eye contact as a tool for intimidation— borderline a threat specifically for her alone. probably because he knew the only real thing he had to do was give her a look and she would submit— cowering like a scared little lamb so scared of getting gobbled right up by the big, bad wolf.

endo followed her gaze, tilting his head as his eyes bored into her own. he could admit that she was more than a looker— that sad, kicked puppy look really does something for him.

“but? but but but? but what.” it was a nasty sneer that left from endo’s lips as he mocked her. his lip curling in a way that screamed he was becoming more and more agitated by her hesitation— her lack of immediate compliance. this wasn’t their obedient little love— she was starting to piss him off.

“nothing— i just..” she trailed off. “will it hurt..? what if i cry?” she asked, looking up at him with the sweetest look. (name) were so naive it hurt. god— he could skull fuck her right now and he knew she’d absolutely love every single moment of it.

“sweetpea, you said you’d do anything for us. you didn’t lie to me did you?” he asked, brows furrowed as though he were actually hurt at the implication he just pulled from his book of manipulation.

“no..! of course not..!” she shook her head quickly.

“then a little pain shouldn’t be an issue, right? all the fights and trouble we get in for you isn’t even comparable.” there is was— he always did this. make her feel like she didn’t appreciate all that they’ve done for her which was her biggest fear.

“yeah, you’re right.. o–okay.. okay.” she let out a shaky breath as she nodded, a small smile growing on her lips as she felt endo’s hand pat her head.

“takiishi~ our little love’s all done bein’ a crybaby. c’mon.” he said.

chika sits down onto the roller stool, scooting over smoothly while the wheels squeaked over the cracked floor tiles so that he’s nestled in between her legs now. he spreads her lips apart, his eyes low as he watches how she clenches around nothing. hm. was she scared or was this arousal? it wouldn’t be the first time chika’s suspected she gets off on that kind of thing..

“wait— please!” panic rose in her chest, her cheeks heating up as she captured chika’s eyes. her pussy was completely bare before him, her thighs raided with tattoos that were more like brands as they stated slogans like ‘property of noroshi,’ ‘endo was here :),’ chika’s initials, and other dehumanizing phrases tattooed on her. to anyone else these could be perceived as insulting and degrading but for (name), she wore each proudly. of course the first time endo talked her into she had her reservations but she really just couldn’t say no, could she?

“will it hurt?” chika hadn’t responded, only opting in for a stare before endo spoke up once again.

“how about this? we’ll give you somethin’ that’ll take the edge off, alright?” he clasped his hands together before spinning on his heel to walk over to a counter where he snagged a bottle of vodka. “some old fashioned anesthesia.” endo smiled as he turned back around, walking back over to her where she laid.

she eyed the bottle with a look of hesitation on her face— it’s contents half full as the clear liquid sloshed around in the thick glass container. “yamato.. i don’t like to drink..”

“what?” he raised his brow as he twisted off the cap. “you know, you really shouldn’t mumble, sweetheart. i can’t hear a damn word you say.” but endo knew good and well that heard her as clear as day.

“n—nothing.. ‘m sorry. let’s do it..”

“no shot glasses or anything fancy like that but— i like doing it like this.” his hand finds its way to the crown of her head to tilt her head at an angle. he takes a swig of the vodka, holding it in his mouth for a moment before leaning in close to her and pressing his lips to her own. endo transfers the liquid in a slow controlled flow, the alcohol passing from one mouth to the other.

“mmf..!” the taste is awful and (name) told herself she’d never be able to get used to it but the warmth she was starting to feel a few seconds later seemed to help with her anxiety just a bit.

endo crouched down a bit to her level on piercing bed, an obnoxious smile on his lips as he watches on.

chika’s gloved hands aligned the needle, hovering just above the skin as the sharp tip gleamed under the light. his moment is skillfully controlled, fingers firm but gentle— the cold metal of the needle presses lightly against the flesh, the sensation a mix of cool steel and the warmth of skin contact. just before the needle penetrates, there’s a brief pause..

(name) let out a shriek as she felt the needle pierce through her flesh— the initial sensation was sharp, a pain unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. her toes curled and her hand flew to endo’s dark locks, involuntarily pulling his head back as her body started to writhe and lift at the pain. but it had been over as soon as it happened— chika’s fingers were nimble and worked quickly as he threaded the dainty jewelry through. the pain shifted into a dull ache and a sense of relief washed over her when chika spoke: “it’s finished.”

“fuck yeah— let’s see it.” endo said as he reached for the hand mirror sitting on the tray stand beside chika. (name) couldn’t help the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, a sniffle or two escaping from her lips.

there was slight throb where the jewelry laid as she sat up to look down at the mirror. the gem was her favorite color— she had to admit that it looked pretty good.

“she’s gonna be outta commission for a while, baby.” endo cooed at her. “you like?”

“yeah.. it’s cute.” she giggled breathlessly. “i did.. i did good, right?” (name) asked, her eyes screaming for approval.

“so good— let’s take a picture and show the guys, yeah?”

© all content belongs to worldume 2024. do not, translate, modify or repost to any other platforms.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Drawing each other (Slasher edition)

help im getting good ideas for writing but idk what fandoms to write it for so uhuh... i guess writing for the mains ones i write for! woo yeah! characters: jason voorhees, brahms heelshire, bubba sawyer, thomas hewitt, Michael myers notes: reader is GN, admin did a coin clip on whether or not the reader is an artist cws: none

JASON

sometimes sitting in the cabin all day can get a little boring, you were the one who brought up the idea of drawing each other

neither of you are particularly good at drawing but that doesnt mean the two of you arent going to have fun

hes a little embarrassed to show you his drawing of you, hes hesitant to turn the paper around to show you

you didnt have much access to many drawing supplies, a lot of what you already had was crayons and colored pencils stolen from the camp, as well as the paper

he doesnt care if the drawing doesnt look the best, hes in love with just about anything you do or anything that has to do with you

he keeps the drawing folded up and tucked in his shirt pocket!

BRAHMS

hes actually pretty decent at drawing, using that to spend his time when hes not watching you from the cracks in the walls

on top of that hes pretty confident in his ability

you, on the other hand.... i dont think he would make fun of your work, but its clear that theres only one artist between the two of you

keeps the drawing you make of him in his little hiding place in the walls

takes a long minute to look at your drawing of him, its hard to read what hes thinking in that moment

more than proud of his drawing of you, you likely have to remind him to hurry up.. hes going to spend a lot of time on it

will expect a compliment for his work- and dont think he wont compliment your work either!

MICHEAL

you got the idea while doodling random stuff in your sketchbook, deciding to take this as a moment to do something together

he doesnt get it at first but hes... probably... not going to just walk away from you

a decent artist himself, he doesnt draw often but its clear he knows some of the basics of art

very quiet while the two of you draw but its nothing new

exchanging your drawings goes without a hitch, and hes sitting there looking at your paper for a long moment... he doesnt give much of a reaction... but you do notice him tucking the paper into one of his pockets

he doesnt care if you keep his drawing or not, however you sometimes find him looking at his art if you display it somewhere

BUBBA

hes not very good at drawing, he never really gets the time to sit down and doodle- on top of that he doesnt know what to draw most of time, when he does have the time and thought to try!

loves anything you make, you dont have to be a good artist either, hes going to take in every little detail of the art

is this how you see him?

if youve added additional stuff such as sparkles or hearts, hes going to be staring even longer... thats so sweet, you like like him?

of course he already knew you did, youre both dating but seeing stuff like that in passing always feels nice

very protective of the drawing out of fear that his brothers may tamper or destroy it- at best they (namely nubbins and choptop) may tease him

THOMAS

like his original counterpart, thomas doesnt draw all that often so he hasnt built up the skill... but that doesnt mean he isnt going to try to draw you how he sees you when you sit him down to do this activity with him

takes a long time to get all the details right, doesnt want to make you look off or worse, offend you if he messes something up

you can draw him with or without his mask, but its clear that you put care into the drawing, regardless of skill

loves it so much, hangs it on the wall in the basement so he can look at it while hes working... its like a little motivational thing for him! he protects his family, and youre part of it.. he does this for you!

a little hesitant to give you his drawing, but lightens up at your delight for how he portrayed you

[pythoria]

feeling some feelings about gale tonight *cracks knuckles*; he was a child prodigy, he was in tune with the weave, and inevitably mystra, since he was just a little kid. imagine being so in tune with magic, feeling so comfortable and safe within its bounds, falling in love with something so beautiful as a child. it becomes your whole world. imagine being filled with such childish idealism, such hope, that your only desire becomes getting closer to this thing, this goddess, finding that love and safety and giving it form.

imagine growing up, finally getting the attention of your goddess, how starry eyed you must be, how proud of yourself. this is your whole world, the reason you're alive, your purpose in life. mystra is everything to you, the magic in your veins, the giddy feeling in your heart, the proud ego in your chest. and then she finally *sees* you for the first time, you end up sharing her bed, touching her, talking to her, earning her approval, and, you think, her love. magic is your job, your lover, the motherly embrace of childhood. of course you would try to ascend to be with mystra forever. of course you would want power, so she sees you as an equal. of course you want to impress her, she's all you've ever known.

and then when you fail, when a ticking bomb gets stuck in your chest, you get none of that love and care. she doesn't protect you, she doesn't even talk to you anymore. so you've lost everything you've ever held dear in one fell swoop, the basket you put all your eggs in shattered, and you're left with nothing. you're now a middle aged man, your whole life spent in service of your goddess, who abandoned you at the first sign of free will you've shown. you feel like a failure. you don't have any friends, nor lovers, and you fall from being an archmage to nearly becoming an ilithid thrall. and maybe you realise that were it not for the astral prism, you'd have become a mindflayer and mystra wouldn't have saved you.

maybe you realise she's completely written you off when elminster shows up and tells you she wants you to sacrifice yourself. maybe you think "is this what my life's work is worth? a lifetime of devotion? a second hand missive asking me to die?". but no matter how ridiculous the request, you're in too deep now. nobody would care if you died, mystra made sure you were always focused on her, never making meaningful connnections with other mortals, having no friends, foes, or lovers. if mystra forsakes you, you might as well not exist. so death to serve her might be the best ending you could've hoped for, really.

except along comes someone, and they also have a worm in their head, and you team up, and soon enough there's a bunch of you strutting around faerun, and suddenly someone *cares*. for the first time in years, you actually have... friends? and they're telling you mystra is insane, that you've been manipulated, they tell you that what mystra is asking is too much, that they want you to live. and you're defensive, of course. you still love mystra, and you can't get away from her either, because you feel her presence every time you cast as much as a firebolt, magic running through your veins like ambrosia, nectar and poison all at once. you conjure her face to gaze at, and when you start falling for tav, you show them the weave, because that's the only way you know how to love. eventually you accept that you might have to defy mystra to stay alive and suddenly you have a choice again. but in the process, everything you knew and loved turned to dust, and you had to build yourself back up from the ashes, all while smiling and laughing and trying fruitlessly to fit in with your companions, who find you stuck up and weird after so much isolation.

gale is such a tragic character, if you think about it.

[golden-hearts-silver-tongues-if]

Demo: (Release Date: when i figure out twine, and then a week)

Life was never easy, but the day you first found your talent for less than legal practices, it certainly got easier. And when you finally got taken in by a nosy noble who could appreciate your talents, life finally seemed like it was looking up. But the highlife isn't all it was cracked out to be. You had to leave behind your best friend for this chance at the high life, and that's not even to mention all the enemies you've made while in service of the person who brought you in. Was it worth it? Can you keep your skeletons nice and tidy in your closet? Or will the past prove to have a few too many chips on its shoulder. ------------- This is a game about many things. Struggling to find meaning in your own life, trying to cling to those you care about as life drags you apart, and what can happen when you don't make peace before the storm. You take on the role of a peasant with a talent for the illegal, be that quick hands or a quicker wit. After years of dealing with the dirt of life to make a living, you get taken in (read, bought into service) of a noble who claims to have nothing but good intentions. They want to expose other nobility for their wrongdoings while climbing the ranks themselves. Will you be willing to remain loyal to their cause, or is money truly the only thing motivating you? That remains up to you to decide. Golden Hearts, Silver Tongues is rated 18+ for explicit language, mature themes, drug and alcohol use and abuse, violence, thoughts and mentions of suicide, self-harm, death and mental trauma. -------------

Customizable MC, choose your gender, pronouns, appearance, sexuality, romantic attraction, personality, history with some characters, potential disabilities, and most importantly, how you choose to go about your crimes. Are you a smooth talker, or someone who prefers actions over words?

Romance one of four available ROs? Will you fall back to your tumultuous Ex/Ex Best Friend? Or perhaps your new coworker or Boss? Or perhaps the most dangerous, the Ex-Noble hunting you down?

Struggle with Morality as you get pulled in different directions. What constitutes good anyways? And let's be honest, do you even care about being good at this point?

Resolve all of your lingering issue, before choosing how to move forwards. To remain trapped by the chains of your past, or to cast it all off and move forwards, unburdened. Ignorance is bliss, after all.

-------------

Romance Options:

The Rival (F, Cis or Trans selectable) - Your one and only friend in the early days of your life, and perhaps something more? You two grew up together and often were the only ones each other had. Perhaps she was your best friend, your lover, or someone you were so close to you could consider them family. Regardless, whatever she was, she isn't anymore. A fight caused a rift between you two, and now you two aren't on talking terms, much less anything else. So, when she shows up to one of your jobs, to steal the same items no less, is it any surprise things don't go well? Tropes - Exes to Lovers, Childhood Crush, Exfriends to Lovers, Rivals/Enemies to Lovers

The Boss (M, F, NB selectable) - The person who scooped you off the streets and showed you what the high life was like, and all you had to do was steal whatever they told you. Simple enough, right? You'd think. In practice, it seems like they keep upping the ante on your targets and at some point, you have to wonder whether or not this is all born out of good intentions. Though, with the looks they keep sending your way, perhaps more than just your skills have captivated them? No, that couldn't be true. After all, a noble and a peasant would cause far too much of an uproar for the already tumultuous figure that is your boss. Right? Gender Footnote - If NB, the Boss will be Agender. Tropes - Forbidden Love, Age Gap, Nobility x Peasant, Employer x Employee

The Coworker (M, Cis or Trans selectable) - A surprise your boss sprung on you just a few months ago, he is another noble who embraced your Boss' rhetoric and now wants to help reveal the darker side of the Kingdom. It's a shame he doesn't know what he's doing, but luckily (or unluckily), that is where you come in. Tasked to show him the ropes of thieving, you must figure out how to teach this eager learner what you've known all your life. He might not have quick hands, nor can he lie to save his life, but if there's one thing, he knows it's how to get up after a failure. And that surely has no correlation to all the gifts of his you've ignored over the years, right? Tropes - Coworkers to Lovers, Master x Apprentice, First Crush, Himbo, Potentially Grumpy x Sunshine

The Baron (M, F, NB selectable) - Hate is a strong word. Luckily, the Baron is a strong person. The first major noble your Boss ever sent you after, they by far had the hardest fall from grace out of anyone you know. Going from ruling an entire quarter of the Kingdom, to being nothing more than a rogue knight hunting you down for revenge. It's a shame they still have so much money at their disposal to hunt you with, and for all that it's worth, they are very good at finding you. Catching you, not so much. You always manage to just barely evade their capture....surely nothing to think about. Gender Footnote - If NB, the Baron will be Genderfluid. Tropes - Hate-Hate Relationship, Enemies to Lovers, Murder makes people hot, Villian Route, Potentially Redemption Arc

------------- Note Zone: Hey there! Thanks for reading all the way through this. This little place down here is where I plan on placing things like links in the future, and also any notes on progress or big topics and stuff that comes up. For now, all asks are welcomed, and once again thank you!

[crabonfire]

☆ Would merc still like you if merasmus turned you into a worm 🪱 ☆

characters: all mercs

tags: crack but not really I'm taking it kinda seriously, reader has a platonic relationship with the mercs

note: maybe someone's done this before idk I felt compelled to write something tf2 related and this is lowkey all I fucking got lmao

Also this is ridiculously long for a fic that was supposed to be crack so my bad (this was longer actually, but I cut out a bunch of yapping)

●○●○●

• I feel like Scout's first reaction instead of panicking is to curse and threaten Merasmus.

"OUT OF EVERY SHITTY THING YOU COULD'VE DONE, YOU TURNED THEM INTO A FRIGGIN' WORM?!"

• He's yelling, so much to the point where Merasmus just teleports away and ignores it, finding it funny (of course he finds it funny what a dick)

• He realizes that when he was so busy yelling at Merasmus, he had lost you. He panicked, looking around the ground with a horrified frown, cursing to himself as he started to dig, looking closely. When he finally found you, he placed you on his hand with a frown, looking at how you moved against his fingertips. He wanted to cry a little, he really didn't know what to do.

• He's placing you under his hat. Usually he'd find worms or maggots gross as hell, and if he was going to be honest he still found you gross, but it was you, so...

• Then he rushes back to base, the panicked look on his face never leaving him. He alerts all the other mercs, making a huge fuss over how, you're a worm now, and they need to help him get back at merasmus to turn him back.

He's holding you in his palm, and you're just wiggling around like nothing is wrong cause you're a worm now. And the rest of the mercs look at him like he's crazy.

• Spy, Sniper, Medic, and Heavy are convinced he's lying. Demo believes him a little since he's experienced Merasmus' antics. Soldier automatically believes him fully since the worms there, but you're not, so that must be you. Engineer is just trying to keep the peace, trying to calm scout down, but it doesn't work as no one is listening to him.

• The team is skeptical, thinking that this is some elaborate prank and that, you're just out for a couple hours. But when you don't return tomorrow for the fight, or return after, that raises some suspicions on where you are.

• Ms. Pauling doesn't know where you are either. So is it true? Are you really the worm?

• A meeting is held, everyone stands around the rounded table, the light shining down on you. You're in your little wormy home, slithering and worming your way through life, forgetting your identity, eating leaves and sleeping in dirt.

The mercs watch as you're doing your worm thing.

Engineer clears his throat, making the attention go to him. He turns to Scout, and the confusion in his voice is evident as he speaks.

"Scout, you're absolutely positive that, this worm is (y/n)?"

Scout responds with an aggresive nod, the slight panic and frustration shown in his expression.

"I told you, its them! I saw it happen with my own two eyes, Merasmus found em, they got zapped and poof- they're a worm! A freakin' worm!"

• The team continues to look at you, so peaceful, so calm, being a worm. They don't know why, but, now it was much easier to believe him. The worm was just like you, chill and...cool...and awesome...and wow... amazing..

"So...what? They're just a worm now?"

Sniper said, picking up the jar you were in, looking at you curiously.

"I don't think they'll be too happy stuck like that."

Engineer spoke once again, "If they got turned into a worm, there's...probably a way to turn em' back, right?"

• That was enough to bring hope to Scout's mind. Of course! That was it, if he could find Merasmus and maybe force convince him to turn you back, everything would be okay! All his sadness had dissipated, and he was quick to start making plans.

• So they did, the team would go hunting for Merasmus, and make him turn you back. In the meantime, they'd take turns taking care of you.

• Scout liked to hang out with you, pretending like it was just like before, where you and him would sip sodas together and talk about anything and everything. He'd pour some soda in the dirt you were in, not really caring of the consequences and thinking everything was the same with you two. He really missed having someone to talk to, though.

"Man, I hope you can hear me. It'll be like, super fuckin' weird if I've been talking to you and you're not even in there.."

• Pyro wouldn't really see a difference. That sounds mean, but its really nothing personal. Though now that you were a worm, you weren't as scared as them as you usually were. They'd sit you down, with their plushies, having a nice tea party, watching carefully as you'd just slither about as a worm.

• Soldier was...confused. You, who once was a brave and selfless fighter, was now a worm. It fascinated him and scared him at the same time. He'd get awkward around you, wondering if you remembered him. He'd talk to you mostly, sometimes petting you...He'd try to.

"EVEN IF YOU'RE A WORM, YOU'RE STILL STRONG TO ME!"

"...You're still in there aren't you?"

• Demo wouldn't really know what to do with you either. He finds it kinda funny how you got turned into a worm. Unlike Scout or Soldier, he doesn't really panic, knowing you'll probably be fine, worm or not. He does miss having you to talk to, like scout. Sometimes he'd just be in the living room, and you'd be by the table in your little jar. He'd just watch curiously, but wouldn't really do anything.

• Same thing goes for Sniper. He legit doesn't really know what to do or say. But, he is a little afraid that you won't turn back into a person. Unlike Scout, he found that you weren't 100% obnoxious or annoying, someone to have chill conversations with after battle. He'd keep watch over you, letting you sit with him as he's chilling on top of his van. Sometimes he'd even bring you out with him in battles as he's camping out enemies during fights. He always makes sure you're safe, though.

• Heavy really liked you. He found you someone worth talking to, and a solid member of the team, so it was a bit jarring to see you turned into a worm. He'd keep his hopes up, though, talking to you like normal. Sometimes he'd watch you like Demo did, curious about you and your little world. It was weirdly calming, after battles he'd be worn out, and when he'd see you worming your way through leaves and dirt, it relieved him a little.

• Engie was a little off put by it, the same way soldier felt. You're just...a worm now? Huh. He doesn't really know what to say to that. Medic and him share the same thought, and that thought is, are you concious? Are you aware that you're a worm? Or are you mindless?

They can't help but think of it that way, in a practical sense. Medic would have to hide you from archimedes and the rest of his doves, who would love to eat you at any given chance.

Sometimes they'd do tests on you. Nothing painful or dramatic but, tests to see if you're still in there. They're really overthinking it.

Engie likes having you in his workshop late at night, makes him feel less alone when you're just worming. Medic keeps you at a distance, just to make sure he doesn't lose you or, have one of his doves eat you.

• Spy, is, kind of grossed out. Nobody has a close relationship with him. He did have a lot of respect for you, both on and off the battlefield. You were just a decent human being who he found a liking to, now you're...a worm. A gross, slimy worm.

He never let you into his smoking room, actually he never even let you out of your jar. He liked you, respected you, but liked you more as a person.

He feels pity, honestly, and just wants you to either be out of his way, or back to normal.

• When you do eventually turn back into a worm, they're all pretty glad. They all have questions, ranging from "Were you really in there? Like were you- aware?" And then "Was it nice being a worm?"

I'm sure you can tell who's asking which question and such.

○●○●○

this what comic 7 leak does to a person

[midnightjewel]

Anything?

I saw something on Pinterest when I was searching for headcannon ideas where it said “Will they do anything for their S/O? Will crocodile tears win them over?” And something like that and I thought it’d be a good idea since I haven’t written much this week.

Characters Included: Kirishima and Bakugo

(No warnings that I’m aware of!)

Kirishima

- He most definitely will give into you for anything. Kiri can’t help it, you just have that effect on him!

- “Babe pleaseee” you drag out your please to emphasize that you really wanted whatever it was you were looking at

- “Wait, what are you asking for now?” He asks, arms full of shopping bags.

- And before anyone would ever talk shit about him buying everything and anything that you asked for, his mind set is: “I have pro hero money, what good is it if I cant spend it on my gorgeous girl”

- “That one!” You point at the little puppy that was chasing his tail in its kennel. It was the cutest little Australian Shepard you’d ever seen!

- “A puppy?!” He looked half shocked

- “Please Eiji!” You look up at your tall hunky husband with those eyes that you knew he could never ever resist

- He visibly blushed. He didn’t even remember walking into a pet store to be honest. All he knew was that you were looking at him with those damn adorable eyes

- “Well” he tried his best to resist “Okay sweetie” he smiles as he goes to find an employee to get the puppy for you

- Now you both own a little Australian Shepard named Riot. You let him pick the name ofc!

Bakugo

- It’s a little bit tougher to get him to crack

- While he does love getting you things, he’s not going to buy some “dumb shit that you already have a million of”

- Squishmallows are his enemies when it comes to spending money on you

- However, as a top 3 hero, he will spoil the fuck out of you! You’re his wife, you deserve nothing but the best in his eyes

- Luxury Perfume, Jewelry, A new car, etc.

- Almost anything you want, unless you ask for another damn squishmallow. He is going to lose it. He doesn’t understand why you need so many!

- “Please Kat!” You look up at your husband with a grilled cheese squishmallow

- “Put it back” he side eyes you “I just got you one the other day”

- “No please you don’t understand” you work your best acting skills and think of something super sad so that the tears form “He thinks he’s coming home with me so if I put him back he will be sad” you have visible tears streaming down your pretty cheeks at this point

- “Damn it woman give it to me!” He practically snatches it and replaced its spot in your hand with his own hand

- And ofc you’re grinning all the way up to the self checkout

- “This is your last thing today” he sternly tells you as he pulls out his card “But what about a slushy?” You pout and he deeply sighs and runs a hand through your hair

- “Yes you can have a slushy”

[silentmoths]

A lick and a promise

Its been *squints* Seven months since i cooked.

god damn its been seven whole ass months CRIES

Boothill got me so fkn good i cant even BEGIN to explain why he's such a comfort character for me ok he just IS.

Boothill x Reader (fem but it's really only mentioned in regards to anatomy.)

NSFW

Enemies to Lovers (kinda?), Smut, Hurt/comfort (kinda?), Oral sex, fingering, boothill is a gd kendoll (sorry boothill genatalia nation i just...wanted to write this like he was a ken doll LEAVE ME-)

7k words, NOT PROOFREAD

The first time you run into the Galaxy Ranger known as Boothill, you’re not sure what to make of him.

You were just an unsuspecting casualty, the pilot, nothing more. Flying ships for the IPC had to beat minimum wage, right? This was your first real gig with them, something a little more secure.

If you managed to make it off pier point without having a gun aimed at you that is.

A…cowboy. You’d heard about them, of course, but seeing one in this day and age was almost unheard of unless you travelled to planets far out in the west, ones untouched by the IPC and their ‘modernizations’.

Yet this cowboy also seemed to be touched by said modernizations, considering almost all of him was made of metal. Hell, all of him might be synthetic, nanotechnology was a terrifying thing, it could eat away the organic and replace it with the inorganic, mimicking skin and its blemishes, hair and all its different shades, like the curtain of black and white you see before you. 

“Han’s where I can fudgin’ see em.” He warns quietly, pistol pointed directly between your eyes. You do as he asks, why wouldn’t you? You weren’t being paid enough to put your life on the line for…whatever the hell you were carrying, you didn’t know, the IPC didn’t enforce ledger-checks- You tell the cowboy as much when he asks.

“Yeah that tracks.” he mutters with a roll of his visible eye. “Lookit’ you, still wet behind the darned ears.” 

“D-do I get a pardon i-if I told you it was my first day on the job?” you manage to squeak out, a terrible habit really, opening your mouth in times you should really stay silent…but the cowboy cracks a grin, a very sharp-toothed grin.

“Ah heck, really?” He chuckles, shaking his head as he spins his pistol in his hand and tucks it away into its holster. “Look I aint’ got no beef with ya. ya ‘ aint even wearin’ an IPC uniform-” “C-contract work.” You cut in with your explanation, only scolding yourself after the fact for, once again, interrupting the one with the gun. “The IPC really gettin that desperate, huh?” He snorts, his robotic fingers flexing as he himself goes to check the ledger, it was obvious he’d done this a few times…perhaps thats why the IPC had started hiring a third party, someone new for him to kill.

And yet he doesn’t kill you. 

He ties you up, sure, but he’s not an entire ass about it, he even apologises when he pulls the rope a little too tight and you squint.

“S’a formality.” He mumbles as he ties the knot tight “y’understand.”

“I guess…Just…thanks for not killing me I guess, Mr.Cowboy.” You shrug, perhaps you were still in a little bit of shock, perhaps you were coping with humour and ‘funny’ comments…perhaps, inside, you wanted to cry because of course of all the times to be held at gunpoint it was your first day working for the IPC.

“Name’s Boothill.” He corrects. Boothill, huh? You’d read about that…some eons old name for gunslinging cowboys who should have been dead. 

After you had been discovered, set free, and promptly fired, you decide to look up this ‘Boothill’ character; you find little other than his bounty…whoever he was, he kept himself pretty closed off…made sense for a galaxy ranger.

-

The second time you encounter Boothill, you’re working on a satellite array. It’s a shit job, it was freezing cold out here, and the welding masks given to you and your coworkers by your bosses were cheap, low quality, offering little protection from the welding torch and its bright, concentrated glare.

After your firing from pier point, no other freighting company was willing to take you on, and in a desperate attempt to get some damned food into your belly, you’d taken this job on some far out meteorite, repairing this shitty, run down satellite so the IPC could extend their reach further.

If the bosses had bothered to do a background check, they would have seen the unfortunate mark next to your name.

’Banned from all positions within IPC jurisdiction’ 

But considering the shit pay, shit hours, and shit accommodation? The old hand’s out here didn’t really care much for the ‘official’ rules; so long as you weren’t being actively hunted.

There was no sun out here, so every few hours there was a mandatory UV break, in which you all got to return to the little sleeping pods that were nothing but glorified transport containers with a wall sectioning off one third to make a bathroom; just to sit beneath a UV bulb. 

Whoever had lived in this one before you had stuck up a picture of a beach on the wall you had to stare at beneath the lamp, and faintly, you wonder if they ever made it there- or had they just keeled over dead from overwork? That seemed more likely, considering nothing had been cleaned out of your pod when you’d arrived. 

As you bask in your shitty, simulated sun, an explosion wracks the entire facility, sending you toppling to the floor as the world spins, cracks apart, opens like the gnashing teeth of some horrific space creature.

Was it a space creature? Had the meteorite collided with something it shouldn’t have? You didn’t want to find out, but you sure as fuck weren’t about to stay here and probably die once the oxygen field around the place sputtered out. The emergency guide tape’s you’d been forced to watch are nothing to help against the real thing, a real emergency. There are sirens blaring, the stark white light’s had all died, replaced by that infuriatingly anxiety inducing red as you struggle to put your space suit on. 

Just make it to a shuttle, they weren’t far, thats all you had to do.

It’s a mantra you tell yourself as the ceiling above you begins to crack and crumble, your time here was up. 

As you wrench open the door to your pod, you collide with someone. Considering you yourself looked like a glorified marshmallow in the emergency suit, you certainly weren't expecting the person you collided with to be as…hard as they were, solid like steel to the point you’re sent toppling back and unceremoniously onto your back, like a turtle.

A familiar pistol is pointed at your helmet.

No fucking way.

Boothill stands there, grin on his face and a gun in yours as he looks you up and down before howling with laughter. “Now what in the hay is that?” he wheezes as you struggle, only to stop when you push the visor of your helmet up, revealing a face he recalls. “No fudgin’ way-”

“You again!” You screech, flailing your limbs as you attempt to stand in this…ungainly suit. “What the fuck are you doing here now!?”

“I could ask you the same mother forkin’ question!” He barks back, yet despite it all, he withdraws the pistol and even shows some mercy, reaching down to pull you back onto your feet “the fork you doin here?” 

“Well, someone got me fired from my last job!” you snark at him “and now it looks like I'm out of another, what did you do!?” “Blew up tha’ satellite!” He chuckles as if he’d just won at an arcade game and not caused millions of credits in damages. You open your mouth to…you don’t even know- Shout? Scold a wanted criminal? Beg for mercy? When the world tilts again, the sound of rock cracking and metal creaking fills your senses; resulting in you simply screaming out of fear. 

This was it, this was where you died. On a rock, in the middle of space, blown to smithereens by a cowboy. Except, the cowboy reaches down, and for a moment you think he’s going to kill you, just to stop the screaming. Instead, he grabs your arm and yanks you upright without a word, tugging you along behind him like you weighed nothing in this stupid marshmallow safety suit. (perhaps, to a cyborg, you didn’t weigh anything.)

Boothill cares little for the smoke and the flames, and you are just a leaf in his wind, guided through it all with scary precision until there is suddenly nothing and you realise what he’d just done.

This fucking cowboy galaxy ranger had just leaped off of the edge of the meteorite, dragging you along with him. 

Correction; this is how you die, once you left the gravitational field, you’d just be stuck…floating in the void of space forever…no one would ever find your body-

Before your thought can finish, you crash into something hard, a ship, you realise, you had fallen into the open loading hatch of a ship, unlike boothill who landed on his feet, you’re simply a pile on the floor.

You hear the cowboy laugh as he turns to look at you, and you thank the fact that you’re face down from keeping your likely red, teary face from his scrutiny. 

“Y’alright down there?” He asks.

“Peachy.” you mutter back, your muscles ached, but the adrenaline was already beginning to wane, suddenly the suit felt…heavy, impossibly heavy as you listen to the sound of the ship’s hatch closing. “Why’d you save me?”

Boothill thinks on it for a moment. Why had he saved you? It wasn’t really his M.O, saving people, especially when they worked for the IPC…he supposes a part of him felt a little bad… you hadn’t been working for them directly last time…and because of his stunt, you’d lost that job and had resorted to working for them in this backwater shithole of an array. 

“Eh, Y’aint worth killin.” he responds after a moment “S’not like you’re the mother fudger I’m looking for anyways.” 

Something about the way he says it…stings. Not worth killing? 

Slowly you sit up, a terribly ungraceful affair in this stupid space suit as you pull the helmet off entirely and toss it to the floor, there was no point hiding the tears anymore. 

“Wh- hey now! What’s got in yer’ boot?” Boothill balks at your teary face “what’s tha’ matter?”

You hate how stupid you must look, crying, red in the face…embarrassing really. But after the scare you’d just had, you don’t have the forwithall to keep your composure anymore.

“Whats the matter?” you mutter, staring at the cold, metal floor of the ship “what’s the matter is that you have single handedly managed to lose me not one, but TWO JOBS!” 

You don’t mean to shout, really, you should be thanking him for saving your life. 

“I’m BANNED from working for the IPC!” you cry “I wasn’t even meant to be working here! But where else am I meant to go!? EVERY job is somehow overseen by some division of the IPC, I can’t work anywhere else! Now you say I’m not even worth killing!?”

Boothill stares, the gears turning as he simply takes the emotional vitriol thrown his way. It had been…a long time since he’d found himself faced with this kind of problem.

“Aw shirt…” he mutters, realising his words had only worsened the situation. He takes a knee, pulling his hat off as he watches, he sees the way you’re shaking, your fingers flexing; he might be ‘old fashioned’, but he could recognize a panic attack. “C’mere, let's get this great forkin marshmallow suit off ya.” 

You don’t even have the faculties to push him away as cold, robotic fingers begin tugging away at the velcro, the zippers and the straps. Breathing was getting harder, everything ached. Only once the galaxy ranger had pulled you free of the confines of that damned suit could you expand your chest properly. Too small, you realised, the suit you’d been given was way too small.

“Easy, easy, easy.” Boothill mutters as he sits you down “jus’ breathe.” 

Easy for him to say, did a cybernetic cowboy even need to breathe?

He could see the struggle, but what the hell was he meant to do about it? It wasn’t wrong..the IPC had their fingers in so many pies… finding a job untouched by them? That’s like finding a needle in a haystack. 

It wasn’t often Boothill felt…guilty. But somehow…you’d managed it.

“Aw c’mon, don’t gimme the waterworks.” he sighs “Look…ah’ll admit I forked up your job prospects, I’ll fudgin’ take that responsibility… will ya at least lemme see if I can help?”

“What can you do!?” You cry at him “If the IPC catches wind that I’ve somehow been caught up with you again-”

“Lemme take ya to a planet the IPC don’t care ‘bout.” He cuts in suddenly, an idea forming in his mind. “Been there plenty, they’re good folk, they’ll help ya.. Ya just…gotta trust me.” A planet untouched by the IPC? That seemed like a pipe dream…

“Impossible.” you mutter “any planet the IPC finds, it conquers.”

Boothill grins, that same toothy grin you remember from your first encounter with him. “I know, right? But this one? This one’s special.”

Eyama II was a small planet with little in the way of resources the IPC wanted or needed, a dwarf planet no less, nothing but a speck of dust floating through their air filters. It was a self-sufficient, homely type place…if he was being honest with himself, it’s where he would want to retire if he ever saw his goal through…living the simple life he used to know before the IPC had ripped it from him. 

He knows it’s not the most…elegant solution, but he knew some fine folk there, some fine folk who might just be willing to help the poor outcast he’d created. -

It’s a long trip. It had to be if it was out of the IPC’s gaze…but that did mean a long trip with Boothill.

In a tiny two person at most ship.

You didn’t really know what to expect, if he’d just tie you up and put you in the corner…but as it turns out…he’s somewhat hospitable… ok more than somewhat.

After you’d calmed enough to be reasoned with, he’d handed you a bottle of nondescript nature. Without much thinking, you’d taken a swig, eyes widening at the distinctly alcoholic taste. It wasn't anything strong like whiskey, but it was enough of a shock.

“Malt juice.” He clarifies as he takes a seat at the helm, setting the warp drive “figured it’d help calm ya nerves.” You blink down at the bottle before slowly taking another, more temperate sip.

It…wasn’t bad…actually it was pretty good. It burned your throat just enough to keep you in the present.

You both talk…small things, you ask him how he knew of this planet, and tells you about all the planets he’d visited that weren’t under the IPC’s thumb, how all of them were nice, simple places.

He tells you that he thinks you’d like Eymaya II, he thinks everyone would like Eymaya II. It had rolling hills and green valley’s. The people were mostly farmers, ranchers, common folk just going through the motions to get by, but not in the same nihilistic sort of way most did. Good, honest living, as he says.

Part of you wonders if there ever was a time this ranger worked a good honest life, if this whole…cowboy thing was a facade, or if it was real, remnants of a past he couldn’t return to. You’re not sure if it’s his conversation, the malt juice, or both, but you eventually begin to open up, about your home life, about your terrible habit of cutting into conversations when you were nervous, all of it. 

And when you begin to fall asleep? Your head nodding slowly where you sat, you feel a cold, metal hand rest on your shoulder.

“C’mon, you need ta’ rest.” He tells you, guiding you to the cot that looked seldom, if at all used.

For a wanted criminal who had put you out of two jobs and nearly killed you both times…he was surprisingly kind.

-

He wasn’t wrong about this planet. It was beautiful, the air was fresher than you could ever recall, living in the city.

Apparently, the look on your face says as much. Boothill chuckles, tilting his head softly as he watches you take it all in. “Told ya ye’d like it.” He hums, something in his mechanical chest whirring with..pride perhaps? Satisfaction? He wasn’t entirely sure, but seeing a face that, so far, all he’d seen from was fear and upset finally show…wonder…it felt good. He wanted to see it more, perhaps even a smile one day. 

He takes you to the inn, sets you up with Jodie, an elderly woman who had been around the block quite a few times, she didn’t put up with Boothill’s antics, more like…a curmudgeonly aunt at first as she barks at him for not calling in sooner, only for it all to melt away into an almost familial warmth as the cowboy explains himself, explains you.

“now child I know you did not lose this poor thing not one but TWO jobs!” She scolds, hands on her hips. 

There is a lick of satisfaction as you watch boothill shrink beneath the innkeeper’s rage. 

“Donchu’ worry hon, we’ll getcha set up here, somewhere this block for brains can’t accidentally getchu fired. Only thing that’ll do that around here is laziness…you aint lazy, are you?” she asks, turning to you and squinting her beady, aged eyes at you, making you stiffen up as well.

“N-no ma'am!” you bark instantly “I-I promise to work hard and earn my keep!”

This atleast, seems to settle her some, and before you know it, you have a hot meal and an ice cold drink in front of you, and you want to cry again.

You actually feel…somewhat sad when boothill has to leave…anxiety twisting in your gut… would you really be okay here? Would you survive? 

But he pats you on the shoulder and grins, and something about it is…comforting.

Something about it made you want to try.

-

It’s five years until you see Boothill again.

Jodie had grown too old to continue running the inn, and somehow, against all odds, it was you who had taken over. The entire place was yours, and you were happy. 

Not a day goes by where you don’t wonder how you ended up here, but then you recall, the enigmatic cyborg cowboy who had hijacked your ship, and then blown up a satellite array.

Somehow, your outlook on him had turned from disdain to…a strange sort of affection. The frigid anger had melted away, and what replaced it was a sense of…thankfullnes for what he’d done for you. Working here, away from the almost all-encompassing reach of the IPC had opened your eyes to just how…corporate everything felt, and how it so desperately wasn't you. 

It’s a late evening, you’re closing up for the night, the bar had emptied of all it’s usual late-staying regulars, and those who had rooms rented for the evening had already retired. 

You’re polishing a few glasses when the door swings open.

“Well now, there’s a face I ain’t seen in a forkin long time.” 

The voice is familiar, and has you turning, a small smile tugging at your lip. A mixture of feelings racing through your chest.

“Well well, come to let me collect your bounty, Sir?” you snicker, placing the glass you’d just polished beneath the malt juice tap to pour him a glass.

Boothill laughs, sauntering in with the swagger you remember as he drops into the stool closest to you. “How’ve you been, Boothill?” you ask him, setting the glass in front of him and waving away his credits. You owed him one drink, atleast, “what’ve you been up to?”

The galaxy ranger snorts, throwing some of his long hair over his shoulder “How long ya’ got there, sweetheart? S’gonna be a long story.”

“I own the place now, and we’re closed, so all the time in the world.” you hum, deciding to pour yourself a glass as well after locking the door. “Shoot, really? What happened to ol’ jodie?” He asks, voice tinged with legitimate concern as you drop into the barstool beside him.

“She’s fine, she’s fine..just old is all.” You assure him, finding a little comfort in the relief that washes over his features.

“Ah, fork don't scare a guy like that.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair “thought Jodie had up n’ left us.”

“Nah, she’s got a while on her yet.” you snort, taking a sip of your drink.

The conversations run long into the night, catching up, listening to the thing’s he’d done, places he’d seen…IPC operations he’d torn apart at the seams. He listens to you too, as you tell him about how things have been here, catching him up on anyone he asked about. It was like talking to an old friend. You weren't sure…what boothill was to you…a friend? An acquaintance? It was…complicated. 

More malt juice enters your systems, you ask if it actually has an affect on him.

“You know…being a cyborg and all..” you mumble, feeling a distinct warm dusting to your cheeks as the malt settles. 

Instead of responding with words, the galaxy ranger reaches out and takes your hand into his. He feels…

Warm.

“You tell me, darlin.” He chuckles after a moment, watching you though half-lidded eyes. You barely even notice, more curious about how the alcohol affected him. Without even thinking, you run your fingers along his exposed arm; you weren’t going crazy, he was warm, almost humanly so. 

Your fingers continue to wander without much thought until they brush along his jawline; the sudden transition from steel to skin is what finally snaps you out of your own thoughts, pulling back with a squeak.

“O-Oh aeons I’m sorry!” you fluster at his face, his eyes are wide and his mouth slightly ajar. “I-I got carried away I’m-”

His hand reaches out again, clasping yours and pulling it back towards his face as he rests his cheek into your palm.

“Don't.” He murmurs, softly, softer than you’d heard him before. “Keep goin…please.”

A realisation settles across your mind.

“You…you can’t feel most touch…can you?” 

He doesn't look you in the eye, but he does sigh, only burying closer to your warm palm, worn after years of working hard…but still human.

“S’not that I can’t feel…I can…but..s’mtimes it’s so forkin dull I might as well not…but..my face is…”

“One of the few places you can feel.” You finish the sentence for him, feeling a pang of sympathy. You didn’t know how long Boothill had been like this, but you could wager long enough that he was more desperate for a kind touch than he probably even realised.

“Yeh…” he mutters, his lips turning down into a frown “sorry…ah know it’s probably-”

“Shut up.” you mutter, turning to face him fully, your other hand coming to rest on the other cheek as you watch this man, this gunslinging galaxy ranger, falter. His eyes widen before he shuts them entirely, leaning into it, starved of this type of affection.

“F’ya don’t stop this bullshirt m’gonna think you might have some feelin’s for me, darlin’..”

You didn’t know if thats what it was…but you didn’t want to stop either, a part of you wanting to sate you own selfish curiosity…another part wanting to do this for him.

“It must be a lonely existence, living like you do.” the murmur leaves your lips before you even notice you’d spoken out loud, thumbs stroking over his cheek bones. Boothill stares at you in silence for a long moment, his gaze calculating, probing. 

“I thought ya’ hated my forkin guts…” He mutters.

“Perhaps once, for a little bit, I did.” You admit “But then you brought me here, and I’ve never been happier..”

A beat passes, then another, and another. Boothill stares at you, the feel of your hands on his face something he wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

And then he leans forward, lips crash together and the taste of Malt juice and perhaps a little bit of oil is on your tongue.

You don’t pull back, if anything, you lean into it shamelessly. 

Robotic hands grip your waist as your own finally shift from his face to wrap around his shoulders. At some point his hat goes flying off elsewhere, but neither of you care; too strung tight, too wound up to care.

His teeth are as sharp as they look, but he’s careful with them as he nips at your bottom lip, swiping his tongue over the little beat of blood he manages to draw.

“Shirt-” He mutters against your lips, his eyes shut tight, you can hear his inner mechanics whirring, like a mechanical heart about to rabbit from his chest “fudge, if you don’t stop me now darlin I’m gonna keep taking-”

“Then take.” you mutter back at him, tangling your hands into his surprisingly silky hair and yanking. “Take what you want.”

“Oh trust me, I would but..” Boothill’s growl trails off, and for a moment he looks…embarrassed. You can’t for the life of you figure out why until he steps closer, your knee brushing between his legs- oh.

“Flat as a forkin’ brass tack.” he mumbles. 

You���re not sure why, it might just be the curse of your horrible humour, but your attempt at not giggling only sets you off into laughter that you attempt to muffle into his shoulder.

“Ey, watchu laughin at?” you expect boothill to be…mad at your outburst, but you can hear the amusement in his voice, feel the tremble of his own laughter “t’aint funny.”

“It kinda is.” you snicker out, pulling back to look him in the face. He looks a little sheepish, but thankfully, mostly just amused. “It’s okay…we’ll figure something out..”

His toothy grin settles back into a dangerous little smirk as the moment passes again, the kind of smirk that makes your belly twist a little. “Oh yeah, I got some other tricks up my sleeves.” 

Without much more to say, you find yourself being lifted, thrown over the cowboy’s shoulder- as you open your mouth to say something, you’re interrupted with a harsh slap to your ass, resulting in nothing but a squeak.

“Where’s yer room?” He snickers as you glare at him. 

You consider not telling him, being a brat, but the charming smile he returns to you is… yeah it does something stupid that goes right to your crotch. 

“Upstairs…first door on the left.” you mutter, flustering at the way his grin widens. 

If you didn’t know better you’d almost describe Boothill as practically skipping up the stairs, the angle for you however was a little trepidatious, and you find yourself clinging to him for a little more stability, right up until he carefully tosses you down onto the plush of your bed, landing with a soft thud.

He’s back on you, and your hands are back on him without him needing to ask; you can see the relief it brings, the way his eyelids flutter and his brow pinches as your fingers glide across his cheek, down his chest and along his arms, still warm, you note…

His lips return too, his own hands untucking your shirt just to get under it, metal fingers gliding over the smooth of your belly, up the your sides as he groans into your mouth. You wonder how much he can actually feel, if it was still dull, or if the alcohol had heightened his mechanical touch sensors somehow. You didn’t care, he looked happy, legitimately happy, like a dog being scratched behind the ears as you indulge him. 

His lips move from yours and he begins to nip and taste elsewhere, his nose brushing against your own as he leans in, nuzzling at your cheek, nipping at your jaw, revelling in the little sounds of pleasure he pulls out of you, especially when his wandering hands wrap behind your back and find the clasp of your bra, it comes undone with a surprisingly expert tug and you moan softly at it. 

(Who could blame you? You’d been wearing the damn thing all day.) 

You wished there was something you could do for him, something to pleasure him like he was doing for you, but you forced yourself to be content with touching him, running your hands through his hair, scratching at his scalp and tugging at the soft strands; running your thumbs over his cheeks, tracing the shells of his ears.

Boothill however, seemed just as hellbent on touching you, but he had far more room to move, to explore, to play. 

Metal thumbs find your nipples, embarrassingly hard and sensitive after being trapped in the confines of your bra all day, and you moan as he rolls them both, back and forth in a slow, methodical rhythm that leaves your breath light, and your stomach twisting in knots. 

Pointed teeth find your throat, nibbling and worshipping every inch of skin they could catch. You’d have to wear a scarf tomorrow if he kept that up, lest the regulars at the bar notice the strange bruising… but you don’t stop him; you were all in on…whatever this was now. 

A metal hand pulls away long enough to pop the buttons on your shirt, leaving the plane of your torso open and exposed to his gaze, nothing short of hungry as he stares down at you. 

“Fudge…” he mutters, his voice husky “That’s a nice view…” 

“Tease.” you huff.

“Tease? Oh ah’ll show you tease.” He snickers, his mouth returning to your skin, working lower, biting at the junction of neck and shoulder, nibbling along your collarbone before the cowboy shifts further, his tongue darting out to lap at one nipple whilst a hand works the other.

You gasp and moan, a hand quickly coming to muffle your cries, cheeks alight with embarrassment at the sudden outburst. Boothill only chuckles, his eyes trained to your face as he lays, settling between your legs as he rests atop you to continue his work, but at least he doesnt pull your hand away, too engrossed on what he could feel opposed to what he could see and hear. 

He switches breasts while his free hand trails down, over the soft plane of your belly and to your belt, unbuckling it with ease and sending the strap of leather flying across the room before those fingers return, popping the button of your work jeans and dragging the fly down. You groan softly in appreciation at the relief it brings, only to feel those metal fingers working the waistband down.

Just what was he planning? you wonder internally as he gives your nipple one last, harsh suck before releasing it, making you keen beneath your hand. 

“Feelin good, darlin?” he whispers. He sure sounded like he was feeling good as he nuzzles against your skin, nipping at your stomach and trailing lower, hands gripping at your jeans, pulling them and your underwear away in one swoop, leaving you open, exposed, and embarrassingly wet. “Y’sure look it..” he adds with a low whistle “aint that a sight.”

“B-boothill-” You mumble, an attempt at closing your legs out of embarrassment only sandwiching his head betwixt your thighs. He grins at you; it’s such an endearingly handsome thing, it makes you feel like this wasn’t a first time thing between you both, like he knew you, like he was comfortable with you, which only added to the heat in your belly.

“Aw don’t go gettin all fudgin’ coy on me now.” he snickers “After all those drinks’ ya’ gave me downstairs, I’m still kinda thirsty.” 

His metal hands part your measly human thighs with shameful ease as he leans in close; you squeal when you feel his hot tongue lave down your inner thigh, warm breath so achingly close to your cunt it was maddening.

But it seemed Boothill was just as desperate as you were, his mouth attaching to your cunt after only a moment, taking in your squeal as his teeth gently roll your clit, the added danger only serving to make you wetter. 

“F-fuck! Boothill-!” you moan out, forsaking keeping yourself silent as your own hands scramble across the sheets, searching for something, anything to ground yourself as his tongue laps at your folds with fever; they eventually find and settle in his hair before giving it a tug.

Boothill groans, the sting is only arbitrary, but he loves it, he loves being able to feel something. The warm plush of your thighs around his ears, the heat of your cunt as he sucks on your clit, only made sweeter by your cries. He’d missed this, he’d missed this a lot..

“Y’aint seen nothin’ yet, darlin.” He growls low and loving against your thigh in the brief moment of reprieve he gives you. You stare down at him with hooded eyes,your knees already trembling from his vicious onslaught; he nips the soft, sensitive flesh of your thigh with a cheeky smirk, holding up a pair of fingers, watching your face as he slowly drags them through your wet folds, collecting your slick; you gulp. “Like a’ said, I got a few fun lil’ tricks up my sleeves.” His mouth returns, lapping and pulling you right back into the overwhelming, wonderful pleasure as a slick metal finger circles your entrance, slow, methodical, torturous. You nearly sob with relief when he finally presses the digit inside, the metal actually making it easier. He hums his approval at how easily his finger is sucked in, pumping it slowly in and out, in and out; taking things at his pace- perfect.

After a little while, you feel that finger beginning to probe, to prod and search for your G-spot, and before long he finds it, signalled by a loud gasp and a sharp tug at his hair, only pulling his mouth closer, his tongue working away at your clit like he wasn’t driving you absolutely mad with pleasure.

Once he’d found the spot, he retreats, slowly adding the second finger and beginning the cycle again, stretching you, filling you stupidly well; it was an absolute tragedy that he didn’t have a dick…at this point you were so stupidly horny, you would have climbed on top of him just for a chance to ride him.

(somewhere in the back of your mind, the saying ‘save a horse, ride a cowboy’ reverberates) 

As you’re right at the height, right at the edge, he suddenly stops, his fingers cease their movements and he pulls his head away, resting his chin on your naval as he stares up at you with such a stupidly loving look that it makes your heart twist; his chin was absolutely drenched in your slick, but he looked so very content.

But you weren’t.

“B-boothillllll-” you whimper, tugging at his hair again, why had he stopped!? Now of all times? You could feel his metal fingers pressed against your G-spot, but unmoving, they did little to pleasure you. You clench around them, but that too, yields little results.

“Sorry sweetheart, just wanted to see your face when I did it.” He chuckles, his smile twitching up in the corner.

“D-do whAT-” your question cuts off abruptly when the fingers inside you suddenly burst to life with vibrations, the strength of which you’d never experienced before. Your body coils and you nearly scream as he rams those fingers into your G-spot, stars exploding behind your eyes whilst pleasure cuts through your belly like glass. 

“That.” He hums, satisfied as he returns that sinful mouth of his to your clit, adding another layer of pleasure. His fingers were harsh and rough, crooking into your G-spot one second, and then splaying out the next, dragging rough and harsh against your walls; his tongue however was soft, gentle, slowly and carefully rolling circles around your poor little nub. You were going to go crazy, he was going to drive you insane and you were absolutely letting him. Your body reacts on its own, thighs squeezing hard around his head, spine arched upward; your hips prevented from bucking thanks to one of his arms, wrapped solidly around your thigh and holding you down to the sheets, forcing you to lay there and take it.

You knew the walls here were decently soundproof, but even you began to question if they could muffle out your cries, made worse when Boothill suddenly sits up, pulling you up along with him, practically folding you in half as he continues to feast on your pussy like he hadn’t eaten in centuries, his vibrating fingers plunging somehow deeper.

At first you struggle for air with the new position, your knees almost at your chest, but then he switches the angle of his fingers and aeons-, you didn’t think it could get worse than this. But the pleasure this new angle brings, it’s new, its terrifying and you don’t quite know how to articulate that to the galaxy ranger causing it all. Your hands scramble clawing and tugging at any part of him you could get ahold of, his name falling from your lips along with incoherent babble, desperation and worry all balling into one feeling you couldn’t describe as he continues to piston those fingers into you, hitting your G-spot with such accuracy, the flame in your gut turning from a high heat to a near-volcanic overload as you jerk and struggle.

The final straw is when you crack open an eye, catching sight of him, staring back at you with such…love, such unbridled affection.

You scream his name as you cum, harder than you’ve ever cum in your life. Your faintly feel yourself make an absolute mess of his face, arms, your back and the sheets below you as your world turns white.

–

A soft, damp cloth carefully rubbing over your skin slowly pulls you back into reality, rousing you from the soft and gauzy subspace of post-orgasmic bliss. You try to shift, to sit up…to…something- but a hand carefully manoeuvres you to lay back down on a thankfully, dry patch of sheets.

“Easy, darlin’” Boothill’s familiar southern drawl hushes you down “Nearly done.”

You crack an eye to find him carefully cleaning you off with said damp towel. Methodical but careful. You’re trembling from the exertion, but boothill looks absolutely fine, the bastard. 

In fact, he looks better than fine. A smile plastered on his stupid face as he works away, wiping sweat and other…fluids, off of you. 

When he was done with that, he wraps you in a clean sheet and lifts you, sitting you down on the trunk at the end of your bed, just so he could change the set you’d obliterated with your unexpectedly rough orgasm. You sit there, watching him, half asleep and pleasantly dozy before he pulls you back into bed, pulling you into his side. A glass of water is pressed against your lips as he encourages a few sips into you. 

You spend the night sleeping with him curled around you; the quiet whirr of his mechanical body providing a pleasing, soft white noise while hands stroke through your hair.

–

“Do you have to go so soon?” You ask as he reaches for his hat.

He’d been here a week, and it had been…for lack of a better word; wonderful. 

But all good things had to come to an end you supposed. The look on his face was enough to tell you what you didn’t want to hear.

“I gotta. I ain’t done yet.” He tells you quietly, despite this, he holds out a hand, a silent request for you to walk with him…the inn and the bar would be fine for a little while.

“I’d ask ya t’come with me, but that’d be the biggest forkin mistake I could ever make.” the cowboy admits. He wanted you to, he’d never felt so content as he had in this week, but bringing you meant putting you in danger…aeons know he’d done that enough already.

“Will you…at least come and visit me?” 

Boothill snorts as they meander their way towards his ship “O’course I will.”

“How often?”

“S’often as I forkin can.” 

You both stop beside the ship, it had a few more dings and dents than you remember, but it was still in surprisingly good condition.

“Well…” you mumble “at least you know you’ll always have a room at the inn while I still run it.”

“Y’mean yer’ room?” He snickers. “I forkin hope you intend on running the place as long as possible, I pulled in a good favor from jodie to get ya yer’ start ‘ere.”

You smile at him. Boothill thanks every aeon in existence that his cybernetic eyes had a camera function, so he could save that face and look back on it when he was drifting through the universe.

Slowly, he pulls his hat from his head, holding it to his chest as he leans down to press his lips to yours, one last time for the road.

“I’ll be back as soon and as often as I forkin can…y’hear?” He murmurs, you nod; fighting away the sting behind your eyes as you step back.

“I hear…and…Boothill?” you ask as he turns around to step onto his ship, looking at you over his shoulder. 

“Thank you.”

Taglist: @stygianoir @meimeimeirin @ainescribe @dustofthedailylife @rjssierjrie @crystalflygeo @angel-of-requiem @asoulsreverie @zomzomb1e @moraxsthrone @mysnowmanandmebaby @inlustris-is-slowly-dying @pvbbyb0y Want to be added to the list? shoot me an ask~

[goingferalforhim]

Hey I saw your prompts and that your requests are open? Could I get the “you are just so handsome” prompt with Megumi?

[ 2.56am ]

📂 megumi fushiguro x reader . fluff , reader is called darling , gumi just wants kisses , (characters aged up but not mentioned) . (inspo — prompt 18: “you are just so handsome”)

a/n kinda a rushed writing job , and ive been in a sort of writing block/slump . please like , reblog , comment !

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shoes scuff along the floors of the hall, megumi being too exhausted to bother lifting his feet as he approached your door. with his head hung low, hair falling into his hooded eyes, and sleep threatening to overcome, he gently brings his knuckles against the wood.

your movements are muffled as you bring yourself closer to the door, where you knew your boyfriend would be waiting—exhausted and desperate to be held.

“hey gumi,” you whisper softly. he grunts beneath his breath as he falls into your hold, arms tightly wrapping your waist, bringing your body as flushed against his as possible. he mutters soft greetings into your neck, which become mumbles of nonsense as he presses gentle kisses to the skin. “you’re kinda smelly,” you sigh, one hand ruffling through his hair as the other rubs soothingly along the span of his back.

another mess of indecipherable words are muttered against the skin of your neck, the raven-haired boys grip growing tighter as he stumbles a few feet deeper into your room—the back of your knees hit the edge of your mattress before megumi shoves you down into the comforter. his body immediately falling into the space next to yours, an arm snaking its self around your waist yet again—the boy was desperate for your warmth and comfort.

“gumi, love. go wash up,” your words tickle his lips, your minty breath drawing him closer. “gumi,” you grin as his lips brush yours.

“one kiss and i’ll go,” you sigh. as if you were against the idea of kissing your boyfriend.

“one kiss and then you go clean up,” he nods—eyes slipping shut as he leans in, capturing your lips in his.

his lips are a bit cracked, but you knew the hell he practically just went through, so you’d cut him some slack for his dry kiss. “okay, go on.” he groans as you pull your lips from his. “you promised.”

“I did no such thing,” he pouts.

“no, don’t make that face. you’re hurting my heart,” you lay flat onto your back—hands coming to cover your face, mostly to hide the lovesick look spread across your features.

“a quick shower, that’s it. and then I want to kiss you until i fall asleep,” his weight lifts from the bed and you peak from between your fingers. he’s hovering above you, an eyebrow raised.

“all the kisses you could ever want,” your words send him rushing to the shower, a giggle shaking you as you watch him disappear behind the bathroom door.

while he’s in the shower you search through your closet, finding a pair of sweats and a t-shirt you had stolen from your boyfriend long ago. setting them on the end of the bed, along with a pair of boxers he had left—specifically for moments like this.

as megumi slips from the steamed bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist, he’s greeted with your soft, angel-like snores. slipping on the clothes you had set out for him, a simple action that continuously melted his heart—sent the butterflies in his stomach into spirals, he approached his side of the bed. peeling back the covers he crawled in next to you, arms looping around you, pulling you to his chest—where you belonged.

“gumi,” you mutter, fist balling his t-shirt.

“im here, darling.”

“im glad,” he grins down at you. you pull away from his chest slightly, sleepy eyes peering up at him. the corner of your lip twitches, provoking megumi to ask what you wished to say. “nothing,” you sigh. “its just,” nuzzling back into his chest, clinging onto his shirt a little tighter. “you are just so handsome.”

thank goodness the lighting was dim, and thank goodness you were drifting back to sleep—because the shade of red that painted your boyfriend’s cheeks was considered rather embarrassing.

“I love you,” he whispers into your hair. “I love you so much.”

© goingferalforhim . please do not copy or republish my works on other platforms .

[zayne-li]

Frozen Blood

Cross posted on ao3

Rating: Mature (for violence and blood)

Length: 3.3k

Pairing: Zayne/MC (not explicitly, but it's implied)

Warnings: Angst, hurt/little comfort, blood, violence, MC goes into shock, character death

Anyway what if dawnbreaker turned into an abomination and we had to do a boss fight against him by ourselves

--

His hand is nearly frozen in your own, and it feels different than the way it normally does when his Evol is acting up. It's not cold like ice, it's cold like death, though he's still breathing, albeit shallowly.

“Zayne,” you're almost desperate as you squeeze his fingers. He may not be your Zayne, but that thought is the furthest thing from your mind right now, because he's right here in front of you, and you have never, never seen him in this much pain. The black crystals spreading from his palm, to wrist, to surely his arms and possibly more beneath the black coat looks almost like frostbite, painful and bleeding because you know that the ice is not external. It's internal. Its source is his heart, and it seemingly can no longer be contained within, trying to scrape and tear its way out of his body. “Zayne listen to me.”

Thus far his eyes have been unable to meet yours, fixed on the ground like he's afraid to look at you. But at your insistence, they flicker up towards you, dark and almost lifeless, with none of the spark you're used to seeing. He says nothing, and instead tries to pull his hand from yours. You don't allow it, tightening your grip, trying to have enough faith and determination for the both of you, because this Zayne… since you found him just a few days ago, seems like he's given up far before he ever met you.

“I'm going to resonate with you–”

“No.” He is firm as he says it, and tries once again to pull his hand from yours.

“It's going to–”

”No.” This time it's more broken, and he sets his jaw, physically moving further away, as much as he can from his seated position. “It's too late. I don’t want to hurt you.”

The blackened crystals beneath his clothes are spreading, faster than before, you can tell by the way he whimpers and looks back away. His breath is visible in the unnatural frigid air around the two of you.

And then… a sharp cry from his lips at the same time as you watch one of the crystals shoot out from somewhere between his ribs. The crack is sickening, wet, and the crystal brings with it a torrent of blood. Zayne doubles over, and in your own shock, is finally able to yank his hand from you own as he curls it around his abdomen, face contorting into a grimace.

Panic wells up in your chest, sticking to your throat as your eyes go wide, and you see another shard burst from his hunched back, the angle making it almost look at though he’s been impaled all the way through. Crimson red drips from the jagged tip, staining his clothes an even darker black, and plopping far too loudly onto the pavement. It echoes in your ears as his breath shudders, crackling in his lungs with every inhale. Labored. It’s like he can’t seem to get enough air.

“Zayne, let me–”

”Get away from me. Now.” It’s almost a snarl, weakened only by the shaking of his voice. His eyes find yours only long enough for him to try and get his point across, like some kind of wounded animal.

Your own breath is growing faster, terror like you’ve never felt tightening in your chest, your vision narrowing down only into this moment, and it’s like you’re frozen. A pit settles in your stomach as your mind races.

I don’t know what to do. I don’t. I don’t know what to do. What do I do? My Zayne would know. He would be calm. Why can’t I…?

You blink hard a few times, trying to calm your breathing, your ears swimming with the sound of dripping blood and another sharp, agonized cry as Zayne lurches away from you, onto all fours, his arms shaking as another crystal tears its way out of his body, this time right from the center of his chest. His breathing starts to sound wet. Did it puncture a lung?

And then, a different kind of horror grips your heart as you hear the oh so familiar sound of his evol, like a bright burst in your vision, though the makeshift dagger of ice looks more like the black shards piercing his body than the brilliant, clear blue you know so well. Zayne sets his jaw, teeth grinding together as he twists it in his grip. He’s holding it so tightly you see a drop of blood squeeze from between his fingers.

He’s pointing it at himself.

“Don’t–Zayne!” You lunge for him as you realize what he’s about to do, grabbing his wrist with both of your hands in an attempt to stop him, which he hadn’t seemed to have expected, and as a result the two of you come crashing down onto your sides on the pavement, his eyes wide with shock and likely more pain from the impact. Almost immediately they squeeze shut as his brows pull together, and the ice in his hand fades away in a puff of frost. “What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” You want to shake him, you feel sick, this has to be a nightmare, this can’t– this can’t be real.

“I–nnnh– I told you,” His voice still holds that growl that you’re entirely unused to, having never heard the Zayne you know speak in such a tone, “It’s too late, you need…” He sucks in a wet, gurgling breath, and you instinctively move back up onto your knees as his back arches, the sickening crack of bone making you flinch as you watch another crystal force its way through his stomach and ribs. Your vision is starting to blur with tears you didn’t know you were crying, and angrily, you wipe them away. Now is not the time. You need to be calm. Collected. You need to fucking do something.

Anything.

He’s weaker now, and so distracted by the pain in his body that he is incapable of resisting the way he had before when you place a hand on his shoulder and try to resonate with him. Below you, he’s almost seizing, his muscles contracting and releasing as he curls in on himself, like an animal trying to protect its wound. The fingernails on his other hand scrape against the road and start to bleed, though it’s hard to tell with the pool already spreading beneath him.

Where you can normally feel the rising tide of energy from him, raging and at times almost overwhelming as you siphon some of the backlash from his evol, now…

You feel nothing.

Why can’t you feel anything?

Is it… What is this? What’s happening?

“Get away.... Please.” Zayne’s voice has grown weaker. He’s begging you.

“I’m not leaving you, Zayne, why can’t I resonate with you?!” Your fear starts to morph into rage. Anger at him, for not explaining what the hell is going on, anger at yourself, for being too useless to help him before it got to this point, and anger at fate itself, for bringing you both here, to this point in time.

“Because I’m not–”

He never gets to finish that sentence. Instead, his words morph into an unbearable scream of pure agony, the sort of sound you’ve only heard from the dying. It chills you to your very core in a way that snow and ice never could.

Later, you’ll realize that those were the last words you ever heard from him.

As a human.

But as the sound of his scream starts to warp, you realize his body is changing too. More black shards of the horrific crystals pierce through his skin, one after another, blood pooling around his twitching body until his clothes are torn to shreds, and you realize that the very shape of him is being distorted, twisted into something alien. Something you recognize all too well.

Pure shock keeps you rooted there, on your knees beside him as you watch it happen right before your eyes.

The look on his face in that moment is something that will haunt you for an eternity, you think, half covered in the shimmering, rocklike material that is indicative of… Your brain can hardly process what it is you’re seeing.

And then the screaming stops, though it continues to echo in your ears for seconds afterwards still. He starts to stand. First with one heavy hand on the ground, clunking onto the pavement. Then up onto a knee. The crack of bones and the sound of his shallow breath can no longer be heard. The only thing left of him is one side of his face as his form continues to twist minutely. It’s contorted in blank, empty rage.

You scramble back, rolling over to avoid a shard of ice the Wanderer tosses at you as it comes up to its full height. Even taller than Zayne had been. Using the momentum, you push yourself up onto your own feet and run a few steps away, though you don’t want to leave your back exposed for too long. The sound of its heavy feet sound behind you as it takes slow steps forward, and without thinking, you grab for the sword at your side, bouncing against your thigh.

Your mind becomes utterly blank, every thought erased as shock and adrenaline has your limbs taking over without any conscious thought. It’s entirely muscle memory. You’ve done this a thousand times. You know exactly what to do.

“Because I’m not–”

You drop into your stance, legs shoulder length apart, knees bent, sword held in front of you, and duck as the Wanderer aims another ice spike at your head. Okay. For now, its movements are sluggish. Is that because it’s not finished transforming yet?

“Get away.... Please.”

It puts both hands out in front of itself, rocky and grey, glowing blue light showing through the cracks, claws long and sharp, and a torrent of small icicles fly towards you, forcing you to step to the side, and slowly, it continues to advance. The one hazel eye you can still see does not blink, staring at you with an unseeing gaze, the human half of its mouth twisting almost like it's trying to say something. What could it possibly have to say?

“It's too late. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, banging against your ribcage. You force yourself to take deeper breaths, realizing that you’re nearly hyperventilating. Underneath your feet is the pool of his blood, splashing as you twist to the side to avoid another attack, forced to bat away one of the shards with the flat of your blade.

What am I supposed to do?

You can’t keep asking yourself that question. You need to act. You know what you have to do.

He’s–it’s getting closer, inexorable, immovable. Its attacks are coming faster now, ice forming beneath your feet as if to trip you, or possibly to trap you, distracting you from the icicles that speed past you as you dance away. The blood on the pavement is frozen. There’s something meaningful in that you realize, but before you can pursue that thought any further, your brain shoves it out of sight.

Right now you need to survive.

One grazes your thigh, tearing your clothes and leaving a razor thin cut that stings more from the cold than the pain. The Wanderer starts to form a blizzard around the both of you, obscuring your vision, and you’ve kept so much distance between you and him–it, that in the swirling snowflakes whipping past, you can barely see it anymore. Is it using the blizzard to camouflage itself? How?

You twist around, trying to remain alert, to catch sight of it, and though you hear it coming, you fail to react in time as one of its freezing daggers embeds itself into your side. You roar. Not from pain, but from frustration.

“If… If I end up doing something that hurts you… Don’t go easy on me.”

There.

You see it, in the artificial storm, a vague shadow, the rocky form covered entirely in snow, helping it blend in. It seems to realize that it's been found, because it roars, an ugly sound, and you match it, holding your sword up near your face, over your shoulder as both of you charge towards one another. Your blow is sweeping, from above your head and down to your opposite hip, catching on its arm as it forms a barrier of ice to protect itself, though your strength is enough to have it cracking off.

There’s no more hesitation. You immediately strike again, stepping back with one leg and then forward again to put more force behind the stab you aim right at its chest, pulsing with a glowing blue light that acts almost as a bullseye. The Wanderer roars in pain and stumbles, And without thinking, you pull back, easily stowing your sword back in your sheath as you realize you’ve been given an opening. Your feet find their stance with ease as you reach for the energy you’re so used to drawing from, familiar as breathing while one arm stretches out in front of you, and the other pulls back as if to shoot a bow. Too late, you realize you’ve made a grave mistake. There’s no one here to resonate with. The Wanderer takes advantage of your lapse in judgment and shoots another volley of tiny, piercing icicles at you, forcing you to roll to the side, but it's also spread a thin layer of ice at your feet, and you slip to the ground, the icicle in your side lodging deeper and causing you to scream.

Frost bursts from the Wanderers palm shoots forward and starts to trap your foot onto the ground, in its ice. The other hand shoots more spikes at you, which you narrowly manage to throw off with the flat of your blade once more. You can’t avoid all of them though, and your skin stings where they manage to graze you, a few embedding themselves into your arms.

It looms over you. Terrifying and beautiful. You can’t get your foot free. Your evol is useless when you’re alone.

And you’ve never felt that more than at this moment.

”Zayne–” You don’t know what to do. His eye flashes with brief recognition, and then it’s gone again. You can’t recognize him. You just wish–

Something whizzes past your head, making your hair flutter with the wind it causes.

The Wanderer is forced back.

There’s another blow.

You’re not sure what you’re seeing, but after a second it registers.

Embedded in the glow of its chest is an icicle.

Blue.

Clear.

Your breath catches in your throat.

There are footsteps behind you. Like someone running. All the while more and more shards of ice are flung almost haphazardly at the Wanderer, and it continues to grow weaker, unable to fight back much with the force of the barrage being forced upon it.

It drops to a knee.

One of the icicles hits it in the head. And then another.

It makes a sound almost like pain, and it’s close enough to you as it starts to sag down further that you’re almost making eye contact with that single hazel eye, though it still seems as if it’s more… Looking past you than at you.

You swallow thickly and reach for your sword with nearly trembling hands, sticky with blood, and before you can falter, you pull it out and scream as you slice through its neck.

The Wanderer lists forward, like it's about to fall on top of you, but disappears in a burst of sparks before it actually does. The only thing left behind are the particles in the air that float like tiny stars, and the brilliant cerulean Protocore at your feet, dropping onto the road right on top of a puddle of frozen blood.

There’s bile in your throat. You can almost taste it.

The footsteps come to a stop, and you don’t realize anyone is in front of you until he’s right in your field of vision, kneeling down and taking your shoulders in large, warm palms.

“Hey, hey can you hear me?” The voice is so familiar…

Your vision blurs and you blink away the tears as you look at Zayne. Intact. Right in front of you.

You must be hallucinating.

You’re too exhausted to care, the strength in your limbs failing you as you almost go limp. He quickly adjusts to hold you securely in his arms, and were you more aware of your surroundings, you might notice him examining you for injuries, his lips thinning as he takes the state of you in.

“... I just need you to nod if you can hear my voice.” He sounds faraway, like he’s speaking to you through water, or a wall maybe.

Though you’re not sure what the point is, you nod weakly, and that at least seems to lessen some of the tension in his shoulders. The hallucination of Zayne moves into a squat beside you and hooks one arm around your shoulders, and the other beneath your knees, lifting you with ease, his expression determined and certainly worried.

He feels warm. You clutch at the fabric of his coat, and curl into his chest, barely aware of wherever it is that he’s taking you. He doesn’t ask what happened, though he’d like to. His first and foremost priority is making sure you’re okay.

“... The Protocore…” You manage, your voice rasping as you blink and realize it's still back there, on the road. Zayne’s mouth twists, you see a muscle twitch in his jaw.

“That doesn’t matter right now. Let’s get you patched up first.”

“Zayne, please.” Your voice is small, and pleading, and it causes him to pause for a moment, looking down at you with a concerned, puzzled expression. He doesn’t know why something that insignificant would matter to you right now.

His arms tighten their hold on you, and he stops in his tracks, taking in the distressed look on your face. He seems to be fighting his need to ensure your safety, and his natural obedience to your whims. You must not have gone far yet, because he turns and only takes a few steps before it comes back into your field of vision. You start to squirm in his arms, and reluctantly, he sets you down. Yes, you’re injured, and in a severe state of shock, but you’re not incapable of standing. Your brain is still blocking any pain that you should be feeling.

Zayne watches on in confusion, brows furrowed as you bend down to pick up the blue Protocore, looking at it like it’s something delicate and precious, held carefully in both of your palms.

“Okay… We can go.” There’s not much emotion in your voice, but you refuse to relinquish it as you lean into Zayne’s side, one of his large palms wrapped around your waist in case you need his support as you both head towards his car, parked not far away.

He doesn’t ask… Not yet… But the eerie sight of that Wanderer has the question lingering on the tip of his tongue as he gently settles you into the passenger seat and then reaches into his backseat for a first aid kit. Zayne efficiently and tenderly cleans and dresses your wounds for you, the Protocore glowing ominously between the two of you, and more than once he finds himself glancing at it.

... Who was that?

He’s afraid he doesn’t even need to ask to know the answer.

[r3linx]

⇄ ◁◁ 𝚰𝚰 ▷▷ ↻ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⁰⁰'²⁵ ━━●━━───── ⁰²'⁰⁸

╰┈➤ characters... •`HAYATO SUO´•.

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ SYNOPSIS... silly smoker yn thinking she could get away with that nasty habit but suo catches her and yeah... lectures her?? ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ WORDCOUNT...0,9k ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ WARNINGS...: tw! smoker yn, suo quite literally licked your hand, sfw, fluff, comforting, slight angst [if u squint enough trust me you'll see it], nonbinary reader ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ OTHER... reblogs, likes and requests are appreciated!

a/n: like i said. yeah. sorry i let my inner demons decide what i write and i really needed to do this cuz i want to quit smoking so bad and i need smth to give me reassurance >-< (also i didn't read the whole in the end, just finished it cuz i had a rough day and im lazy for that so im just posting it,sorry if there's any errors in it or sounds dumb sometimes)

birds chirping. everything quieted down around you, almost as if the world stopped spinning. the cold breeze brushed against your skin, leaving goosebumps scatter all over your arm. the sun almost disappeared on the horizon, making the sky glow with orange, yellow and different but incredibly warm and beautiful shades of pink.

knees pulled up to your chest, all alone in the whole school you sat outside on the cold, gray concrete stairs, ragged by time and weather. here and there weeds peeking out through the cracks which was already stomped on by others till it was barely visible.

‘finally.. some alone time, all I could wish for..’ no one to listen to, no one to talk to, no one to match their standards. just you and your own train of thoughts.

holding the roll of tobacco in-between your pointer and middle fingers, raising up it to your dry lips and taking a long, final puff. the cigarette slightly warming up the end of your fingers by its light but also leaving a nasty essence behind. then tossing it aside, nothing left in it as you watched the smoke still pouring out from it between the strands of thick grass.

you pressed out a long exhale from your lungs, this time letting your eyes flutter close and just for a quick moment trying to forget everything. your ears ringed louder and louder by each second, feeling like passing out then and there—

“hey.” you snapped you eyes open at the sudden voice. gentle, yet carrying a lot of depth in his tone. without a question or remark, the person simply just taking a seat next to you. ‘great..’ you huffed, following his movements with your eyes till he comfortable positioned himself beside you, now being on eye level with you. you said nothing. he remained silent.

“are you just gonna sit there?” you spit out, irritation filling up your blood to which the individual took a simple glance down to you lap, where your hand was resting.

“may i?” questioning, you couldn’t find the usual warmness in his words this time, instead replaced by bitterness. again, just before a reply could be formed, ghosting his hands over yours, placing it on his with care, bringing it up to his mouth. the one you held the cigarette with.

soft, lips. softer than yours at the moment. grazed the top of your hand, your knuckles, the end of your fingers -eyes widened, you watched him.. and so did he. not with a smile. his eyebrows lowered. his gaze abused your soul, piercing it through from the inside.- still, carefully but with stone hard determination, pressing a kiss to your hand. and another. the third, with somewhat open mouth. hot tongue joining his lips on your skin, just for a quick moment, taking in the taste of your skin. then lets your limb down, releasing from his grasp.

suo eyed your features with interest. taking note of your shocked state and crimson red color dancing across your cheeks, reaching up to your ears. his gaze still heavy on you, he tucked an unruly lock behind you reddened ear.

“just needed confirmation.” no explanation, no apologies. he wouldn’t apologize for a kiss on your hand, why would he?

“confirmation of?”

“of you still damaging your body.” he replied, patience running thin. he wasn’t born today to know and realize, seeing through all your lies and poker faces like it was thin paper, held up in front of the bright sun. “no need to for the poor acting of yours. ever since I first saw that between your fingers, you kept me on my toes.” you were aware of what he told you about smoking, it played on repeat all the time you lit the cigarette. but it was one time, no harm, right? or you thought. you weren’t aware of the fact how he knew your promise was a lie. the promise to quit it. the rumors echoed into his ear, you sitting here every single day after school, alone in your peace. alone, until this day.

looking everywhere but him, one of your legs started tapping on the ground, searching for a new and believable lie. your leg still shaking, he took your chin in his hand, forcing your eyes on him. his strong grip made you wince in discomfort, fear setting in as his face contorted into anger even more by now.

“your body isn’t fixated on it. you can change. but you don’t want to.”

“it’s not-”

“it is true! it is, goddamn!..” crows screeched as they flew up from the ground, high in the colorful sky as suo's voice ringed louder this time.

the sudden change made you flinch, now averting his gaze even if for yourself to make it less awkward.

“why can’t you try and rely on me?” the question shocked you to the core, how could he even- “let it be me what you’re fixated on.. be addicted to me..” the more he said, the more quiet he became at the end, you could almost see his usual put together behavior and expression crumbling away into nothing. instead, he too felt the atmosphere between the two of you change into a more deep and sensual one.

taken aback, you sat there in silence staring with a dumb expression, suo couldn't help but let a smile pass by his lips, now his arms snaking around your side, head resting on your soft shoulders. you let the sensation of his closeness consume you, relaxing yourself into his embrace.

"have faith in me.." with a final murmur suo found a warm place to rest his head in the crook of your neck.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ 𓈈 ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶜᵒᵖʸ, ᵐᵒᵈⁱᶠʸ ᵒʳ ᵘᵖˡᵒᵃᵈ ᵐʸ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘʳˢ!

[joydoesathing]

what would happen if anatolii knew about this. What was Nacho thinking just running away was he that different compared to now

*cracks knuckles*

hoooooo boy, get ready cuz i got a whole character arc below

(again this is just my take on the story, so it's highly headcanonned)

"I'm sorry for running away. I'll make sure to make it up to you and your mother..."

nacho was more reckless back in his former years when he was first having a fling with frances. but when he did get her pregnant, he realized that he messed big time. realized that not only he's got a child on the way but has no means to provide for them both and isn't personally ready for big commitments like being a father or even getting married. why would he be? he was barely even 20. he never really thought that far ahead.

he didn't want to ask his parents for help. they'd definitely kill him if they figured out he got this girl they never met pregnant. he didn't also have the guts to tell frances the bad news.

his buddies at the time, who were just as reckless and short-sighted as he was, recommended that he could just... leave all that complicated and deep mess with frances behind him. just run away.

i mean he could do it. like him, frances probably wouldn't turn and complain to her parents first for help (for the same reason nacho wouldn't turn to his own parents for help) . his parents doesn't even know they had a fling together. even if she will become desperate enough to find them and try to turn to them for help, would they even accept her? let alone believe her?

"you wouldn't get in trouble. there's no one else that knows about it than you two."

" i mean, i'm sure she'll figure out something. she should know at least the basics."

that's what his buddies kept on assuring him. but even he could see that just up and deserting frances like that is just straight up cruel.

but was he in any room to still complain? it's not as if he had the resources nor the strong will to commit and face the heavy consequences of his actions.

and with that, he ran off but wracked with the small feeling of guilt.

while he tried having his new start, that feeling of guilt just grew bigger and bigger and started eating away at his conscience. he kept on trying to deny and delude himself with the words of his buddies, but it did nothing to stop that guilt completely.

it made him finally see that he's nothing more than a dirty dog running with its tail between its legs. a jerk and a coward. he had a feeling that he was going to have his comeuppance and it wasn't going to be pretty.

and so it did, a year and a half after he ran. his partner, depressed and completely driven to madness , tracked him down and almost murdered him in a psychotic rage.

he was forced to see the result of his cowardice and neglect. he didn't blame frances for doing that. who wouldn't go mad if they've been abandoned by someone who thought they could trust?

after she was stopped, he decided not to press charges on frances , although that didn't stop her from still getting institutionalized. being incapable to care for her child, nacho finally decided to man up and take his and frances' child up as his own and take raise him.

he knew that it's such a scummy thing to do. to just NOW take up the responsibility when everything was blown out of proportion. but he decided to not run away now, just because of that. his son needed a parent more than anything else now.

as he went on raising anatolii, he felt that he had absolutely nothing to be praised for. unknowing people says: "you're such a strong man, raising a son all by yourself."

he just did what he should have done from the start. right now, he takes care of his son wholeheartedly as an act of repentance, for both frances and anatolii. to show that he's truly sorry for being the coward he is.

for now, nacho is keeping the truth the whole mess between him and frances well-kept from anatolii. the only thing that anatolii does know about his mom is that she's alive but never drops by to visit due to some "personal problems and conflicts". but nacho always assures him that his mother loves him no matter what.

[chickenjokey]

Satellite

Hi everyone, and welcome! ^-^

This is my very first post on Tumblr, annddd my very first fanfiction I have ever wrote! Please be kind (I am scared) and thank you for reading if you do! <3 This is very lightly edited, so I apologize for any inconsistencies/grammar/or OOC characters.

Description: It's a late night on the Sunny, and you can't stop thinking about that moss-head, Zoro. You sit below the stars as you replay the events of the day when you ask Zoro to train with you where you accidentally land on him, causing some feelings to arise.

18+ only!!

Content warning and brief description: sexual themes/smut at end, slight choking/loving!Zoro/ Dom!Zoro/ fem AFAB reader/ (Y/N) used

Word count: 8K

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It was a long night in the Thousands Sunny. You lay wide awake in bed, staring at the wooden ceiling. Your hair has become knotted and tangled from all the tossing and turning you have done to try and get comfortable, but to no avail. The soft hissing of the wind leaking into your room through tiny cracks and holes was always a calming sound, but tonight, it felt like the wind itself was laughing at you. You heaved an annoyed sigh as you could only imagine how late it was, and you would be exhausted if you didn’t sleep now.

The soft snores and breathing of Nami and Robin could just barely be heard over the sounds of the waves crashing onto the boat. It felt like your body was buzzing with energy despite using it all up to train today. But that’s where your mind is right now. That’s why you can’t sleep. You can’t close your eyes for more than a few seconds before your mind replays today's events. 

Your body sits up straight. You needed fresh air and to clear your mind. Slowly but surely, you unravel yourself from the tangle of your sheets and press your feet against the cool floor. It was definitely a wanted feeling; to feel a stark contrast of temperature against your body seemed to give you the motivation you needed to slip on your favorite slippers and slowly open the door. It seemed the door-squeaking gods were smiling upon you this night since the rusted handles didn’t complain loudly enough to wake either Nami or Robin. With a sigh of relief, you closed the door softly behind you and exited the main deck. You remember a few moments too late to bring a blanket or jacket as the nights can bring colder temperatures. Too late… you thought in despair as you wrapped your arms around your chest. Your thin night dress didn’t help an ounce to conceal the body heat that was pretty quickly being blown off of you by the salty wind. 

You made your way out to the open, where you could visibly see the stars twinkling their hello’s at you. You find a comfy seat and tuck your knees under you. Your head finds its home at the top of your spine, where you admire the beauty of the night sky. Feelings of peacefulness and wonder fill your chest, replacing the ocean air as it leaves your lungs.

You couldn't get enough of the night sky since you joined the Straw Hat Pirates on their adventures. You came from a heavily populated city, where light cascaded every dark corner. Growing up there, you never saw the sky at its full potential at night. On your first day aboard the Sunny, you couldn’t sit still as you watched the sun leave the horizon. The first few stars of the night were popping up one by one, then in tens, then in thousands, as the sun sank lower and lower. You have never seen such beauty. Luffy didn’t understand and was confused about why you looked up so much. He stood beside you, staring at your face, waiting for you to acknowledge him. Of course, he only stayed a few seconds before he tilted his head up, one hand on his straw hat to hold it on his head and one hand on his hip. His face was confused as he saw nothing out of the ordinary. 

“Hey (y/n), what are you looking at? It looks like you’re looking at something really cool. Can you see something I can’t? Whoa (y/n), do you have x-ray vision? That’s so cool. No wonder I can’t see it!”

 Before you could even open your mouth to cut Luffy off from his rambling, there was a loud THWACK sound and an annoyed groan from your captain.

“Heyyy, what did you do that for? I just found out our newest member has the coolest ability ever!” 

You looked down to see Luffy slightly crouched, his face framed by a huge frown and a big bump on the side of his head. Behind Luffy was Nami, her arms crossed over her chest. Her face was angled up, and her nose was high in the air.

“Ugh, you are such an idiot. Of course, (y/n) doesn’t have x-ray vision, Luffy. She was looking at the stars.”

“Huh? The stars? What about them?”

Luffy’s bewildered expression had only made you laugh harder. Your gaze then drifted to the others, who were watching the exchange with varying degrees of amusement. You could only hope they didn’t hear about Luffy’s accusation, but Usopp and Chopper clambered over to you before the prayer could reach heaven.

“Wow, x-ray vision! That must be so cool! I could see broken bones if I could do that!” Before you could interject Chopper, Usopp jumped onto the nearest chair and declared that he could take down any enemy that stood in our way with that ability.

“Guys! I don’t have X-ray vision! I don’t even know how Luffy correlated that to looking at the stars…” You ran your fingers through your hair and let out another laugh.

Chopper and Usopp looked crestfallen for a split second but immediately jumped back up to talk about everything they would do with X-ray vision. You looked back towards Nami, who looked like she was about to give Luffy another angry red bump to his face as she explained what stars were. Looking past them, you find Sanji mooning over Robin, who just said thank you to him as Sanji made her a cup of tea. His legs swooning left and right, his arms straight up in the air as he loudly proclaimed he would get her tea from across the world if he had to just for her. You glanced away to be met with Zoro’s gaze, who was looking at you in a silent challenge. 

You got along swimmingly with almost everyone but Zoro. Nami and Robin were already your closest friends there. Usopp is incredibly funny, even when he doesn’t think he is, and you feel very comfortable with the long-nosed man. Sanji almost pissed his pants when he found out another woman was joining. You like to say you are very good at reading emotions. You can usually tell what someone is feeling, from the slightest twitch of a lip to eyebrows furrowing to even just blinking. Looking into Zoro’s eyes, you feel a stone wall. His face is stoic, devoid of emotion. The only emotion he portrayed tonight was anger, as Sanji called him a moss-headed buffoon. You look over at Zoro once more. You didn’t feel intimidated by the frown he gave you; curiosity swelled inside you as you took him in. His large arms were crossed over his white shirt, his green hair a little messy from his small fight with Sanji, and his three swords glimmered in the moonlight against his side. You found yourself looking at him a little too much, so you turned back to Nami, pretending not to notice, but your thoughts remained with him. 

The swordsman's eyes did not sway away from you, and you noticed as you tried to give quick glances at him to see if he was still looking. Nami excused herself to bed after a minute of you just nodding and giving her a one-word response. This just left you and the swordsman. Was he going to come over to talk to you, you wondered? You brought yourself over to the railing and leaned on to it. Your hands rested against your cheeks as your elbows found small indents in the wooden railing to rest in. Your right leg twirled in front of your left leg as you once again looked out over the dark sky. You couldn’t hear the thumps of footsteps approaching you over the wind, so you jumped back with one hand over your heart and the other over your mouth as the green-haired man appeared next to you. While he was not expecting this reaction, he didn’t expect you to lose your footing after you jumped back from him. Your leg got caught trying but failing to unwind itself from your other leg before you felt yourself fall backward. Before your left arm could make contact with the railing to try and catch yourself before you ate shit in front of the one person you wanted to impress, strong warm hands grabbed both of your wrists. Your falling body froze in mid-air before it made contact with the ground. You look up to see a smirking Zoro with his hands wrapped around your wrists tightly. The moonlight was doing wonders that night. The soft white light cast the perfect shadows over his arm muscles, making them look like they were bulging out more than before. The wind pushed his shirt flat against his chest, making all his muscles and veins pop under the soft glow. A shaky breath left your mouth, and you had to blink several times to realize this was real life. You actually almost tripped and fell in front of Zoro- one of the most well-known swordsmen. And now he’s holding your wrists, looking at you with amusement. A few teeth were even peeking out from his now-growing smile. 

Red-hot embarrassment immediately made its way up to your face. You could feel your cheeks reddening and hoped the wind would cool it down before it was visible or dark enough to conceal. Before you could move up on your own, Zoro pulled your wrists down next to him so you stood up straight in front of him. You were now a few inches apart. You could feel your cheeks growing redder by the second as your wide eyes made contact with his.

“Better be careful there (y/n),” he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. “Wouldn’t want you falling in and gettin’ wet.”

 He released you, smirking, before leaving you flustered and frozen in place.

Ever since that first day, you would catch Zoro looking at you with an unreadable expression. There were small instances where you would pass each other in the corridor where his fingers would brush against yours in the slightest touch, or his hand would lightly touch the small of your back if he were squeezing by you in the kitchen. It would be nothing to note if it didn’t feel like a single touch from him ignited a fire inside you.

An icy breeze brings you back to the present, the few months since joining the crew feeling both short and significant, and you couldn’t be more grateful to have met them. The delicious foods and drinks Sanji prepares each day, the sisterhood you have gained from Nami and Robin, and the unwavering loyalty of Franky, Usopp, and Chopper have filled you with a sense of contentment you have never felt before. But with Zoro, it feels like more. Maybe it’s one-sided, or you’re reading between the lines, but you and Zoro have had an unspoken friendship over the past few months. The thought of Zoro makes you recall your training session today. 

It was a slow and boring day aboard the Sunny. Some crew members were messing around or in the kitchen, hiding away from the blazing heat, waiting for Sanji to finish making lunch. You approached Zoro while he lifted the most enormous weight you have ever seen over his head with one arm. His shirt was off, which allowed you to take in his sizeable tan chest, crisscrossed with scars. Sweat was gliding down his back, arms, and chest, giving him a glossy appearance. You cleared your throat to present yourself. You were dressed pretty slimly, too. A sports bra and tight-fitting shorts in your favorite color. Zoro’s eyes met yours and gave you a once-over. His eyes left a fire trail down your body before resting back on your face. He did it slowly and with no shame, leaving you slightly embarrassed. 

“Hey, I just wanted to come to ask if you wanted to train? It’s a pretty slow day for me, but if you’re busy, it’s totally alright.” God, what was wrong with you? It was like you couldn’t even talk to the man anymore! You tried to suck up the awkwardness you felt by straightening yourself and meeting his eyes once more.

“Yeah, sure. Just give me a second.” He mumbled. 

“Yeah, no problem!” You shifted your weight, trying to ease the awkwardness. “I was actually wondering if you could train me on a little hand-to-hand combat?” 

He had put his weight to the side and tossed a dry towel over his body to clean off sweat. He walked up to you, and without tilting his head down to meet your gaze, he stared at you from down his nose and gave you a smirk.

“Hand-to-hand sounds fun,” he said, wiping sweat from his brow. “I’ve been needing to get into it more since I’m usually training with swords.” He lifted an arm to scratch his neck before finally looking at you entirely.

“Ya ready?” he asked. You nodded your head, a bead of sweat rolling down your temple. You both took your places a few feet apart and assumed the stance. He threw his hand first, which you easily blocked, and threw a right hook at his shoulder. He was quick to dodge, and your speeds evenly matched.

Zoro lunged first. You blocked and countered with a swift right hook. He dodged it with a quick arm block and threw a fist, aiming for your left shoulder. You sidestepped, hooked an arm around his neck, and twisted. He countered, pushing you down with surprising strength. You hit the deck, breath knocked out of you. 

Zoro pinned you, his grip firm on your wrists. For a moment, you locked eyes, his breath warm on your face. Taken by surprise, your brain turned to mush. Any and all of your training and fighting knowledge left your brain instantly. His legs were on either side of your body, and he used his weight to keep you down. You quickly regained thought and tried to hit a blow at his head and another at his chest to throw him off, but Zoro’s hold on your wrist was so tight it would surely leave bruises. 

Both of you were panting, chests rising and falling in unison to catch a breath. You met Zoro’s eyes defiantly, waiting for him to move off, but instead his head lowered closer to yours, his mouth coming right next to your ear. The only sounds you could hear were the clanking of his golden earrings and the small pants coming from his mouth. 

“I thought you were a pro?” He breathed. “ Show me what you got.” 

He lifted himself, but not without stopping briefly at your face and giving you a teasing look. Zoro let you go and assumed his position again. You were left a little flustered and confused on the ground. His words should have motivated you to really show him your skills, but you were unsure if you felt turned on instead. You glanced at Zoro again, heart pounding. Why did he always have this effect on you? Every brush of his fingers sent sparks up your spine. You had to get a grip. 

Steeling your nerves, you quickly hopped up. Zoro’s eyes lazily watched as a drop of sweat made its way down your chest. You charged at him with impressive speed and went in for a jab, aiming at his jaw. He pushed your jab out of the way and tried to grab you by the shoulder, but you were too quick and dodged it. You used a move you have been hiding up your sleeve by using your leg to offset Zoro and pushing him down. You were now the one on top, straddling his thick waist. His head hit the deck hard as the attack took him by surprise, and his hands instinctively took place on your waist. Zoro’s head was still resting against the floor, his chest heaving. You shamelessly let your eyes trail from his pointed jawline to his neck and then to his chest, where your hands now reside. 

“I win.” You smiled. “I took down the great swordsman Roronoa Zoro.” You said before trying to get up off of Zoro before it was too awkward, but firm hands held you down despite your efforts to get up.

“Huh- Zoro?” You looked at him questionably. His head slowly raised from the floor, and his piercing gaze met yours. His jaw was clenched, his nose flared, and his eyebrows furrowed. His eye was unreadable but still sent a jolt straight down to your core. His hands still had a vice grip on your waist, causing you to straighten up your back. Zoro let out a small groan as you shifted your body on top of him. His ear tips were flushed red, and his mouth was slightly open, still panting. 

“Zoro, are you okay? Is it too hot outside?” You looked up at the sky where the sun still let its unruly heat bear down. “Let me go get some water.” Before you could move, he damn near whimpered out a “No…” He cleared his throat and looked at you in a way you have never seen before. “I’m fine,” He sighed. “Just like this..” 

A light smirk rested on his lips while your wide eyes met his half-lidded ones. You looked down at the compromising position you have landed yourself in. Your legs were bent on either side of his waist, and you could pretty much feel him against your core. A shaky inhale made its way into your lungs. The feeling of him slightly hard against your cunt brought on an ocean of desire. 

“I- I’m sorry! I, um, didn’t realize! I’ll…. I’ll just…” You spouted with embarrassment as blush made its way across your whole body. You pressed your hands against his chest, using him as a way to get up. Thankfully, he let you get up by releasing his hold on your waist, which felt tingly and sensitive after his hold. Your hands trembled slightly as you stood up, trying to shake off the mixture of embarrassment and immense arousal you felt. Zoro followed suit, pushing himself up from the deck with ease. He rolled his shoulders, stretching his neck from side to side as if the entire encounter hadn’t even happened. 

"Good move," he said, his voice low and steady as he walked to you. He met your wide eyes with lust and amusement. “Thanks…” you whispered. 

You cleared your throat, trying to regain your composure. 

“I’m uh… gonna go shower..?” You said stiffly and awkwardly as you shuffled your feet and looked anywhere but Zoro’s eyes. His dark eye was staring at you with an intensity any woman would quiver under. Gathering your belongings, you quickly left to your room before he could say anything else. 

That night at dinner, you were physically there at the table, but your mind was in the clouds, thinking about Zoro and the interaction that had enfolded. Your eyes were trained on your nails as you anxiously picked at the cuticle. 

I hope things aren’t awkward between us but God… he looked amazing. Felt amazing, even. 

You couldn’t help but remember the feeling of straddling him. Your hands pressed up against his chest, feeling his heart beating rapidly. How your legs were stretched wide to encapture the sheer size of his waist… his glistening tan skin, and the warmth you felt of him against your core…

“(Y/N)!!!!” You felt a hand on your shoulder, causing you to jump, a hand flying up to your mouth to hide the squeak that left your mouth. You turn to see Nami with a scowl on her face glaring at you with concern in her brown eyes. 

“Is something wrong? I’ve been calling your name over and over, and you’ve been staring off into space with a weird look in your eyes!” She exasperated. “And you’re flushed!” She exclaimed with a huff as she put a hand on your forehead to test your temperature. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Nami! I was just zoned out… thinking.” You muttered with embarrassment as you looked around the kitchen to see most of the crew was already sitting and looking at you with a concerned look. Well, except Luffy, who looked like he was shaking with impatience with his tongue rolling out of his mouth like a dog as he stared at the food on your plate. Your eyes met Robin’s piercing blue eyes, which looked like she just read you like a book and now knew your deepest darkest secret. She gave you a small smile and a nod towards the doorway. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in a question as you gave a slight glance at the entryway to see the beginning tufts of moss-colored hair. Your head snapped forward to the plate of food in front of you. Nothing could tear your gaze away from the plate of steaming food.

Not even the slow, heavy footsteps of boots coming closer to your chair. 

Not the beginning feelings of warmth radiating from a warm body on your back. 

And not even the breath of a warm exhale of breath that you felt on the top of your head. 

A calloused hand reached for the chair next to you, where Zoro took his slow time sitting down. His leg purposefully bumped into yours as a way for you to meet his piercing gaze, but you studied the small cracks and scratches on the plate.

“YAY! Now everyone is here!” yelled Luffy from the head of the table, his arms stretched excitedly towards Sanji. 

“SANJI- FOOD!” He slammed his utensils on the table in impatience. While Sanji yelled at him about table etiquette, the warmth of Zoro’s muscles pierced your clothes and into your skin.

Why did he sit next to me?? You screamed in your head. Anxiety started to worm its way into your stomach, causing your leg to bounce in stress. Unbeknownst to you, your leg bouncing was noticed by Zoro, who gave you a cautious look.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when a heavy, warm hand was presented on your thigh. You looked down to see a scarred, veiny hand on your upper leg, his thumb rubbing slowly circles. Your bouncing stopped immediately, followed by a soft gasp of your lips and the tightening of your chest. You almost felt relaxed by the notion, but you were so incredibly turned on by how enticing his hand looked on your bare leg, arousal overriding any other emotion.

“(Y/N), you going to eat, lovely?” Said a worried Sanji.

Zoro tsked. “Yeah, you better eat it all up,” he said aloud with a very obvious smirk, “before it gets too cold.” 

You gulped the pool of saliva collecting in your mouth at the hidden meaning behind Zoro’s words. You glanced at him to see him looking down at you with a hard look in his eye. His hand tightened around your leg, almost as a reminder that you need to answer before everyone gets suspicious. 

“Yeah! I am, don’t worry.” You said while taking a big forkful of the food and stuffing it in your mouth. Sanji gave a nod of approval before he dug in himself. 

Zoro’s hold on your leg lightened but still remained firm. His thumb still making those circles, moving up and around. 

Every mouthful you took felt like an hour passed before you could swallow. The feeling of Zoro next to you with his hand so close to your cunt had you closing your thighs, his fingers brushing the insides of your other thigh now. Zoro grunted as if the movement stunned him, but he recovered quickly with a drink of his sake. His hand started to slide up a little more, squeezing and feeling your thigh shamelessly under the table. All the while, you were a flustered, sweating mess. You stuffed the last few bites of food in your mouth, thanked Sanji for the delicious food again, and stood up. Zoro’s hand fell down inconspicuously next to him, almost like nothing happened in the first place. You quickly left the kitchen to your bedroom, the walk uncomfortable due to how soaked your panties were from your wetness. 

The night passed without a hitch, and now here you were, sitting under the comforting stars thinking about Zoro.

Zoro. Zoro. Zoro.

 It will always be him. 

You could never think of anyone else.

It was probably around 4 am right now. The breeze carried the smell of salt and fish. The memories in your head kept you warm, but now you were shivering, your fingers having a slight blue tint to them. Your bones creaked and popped with protest as you stood up, already feeling sore from the training you had today. 

You bid the stars a good night, and thank you for being the one constant in your chaotic life. You made your way to the kitchen, hoping a warm cup of tea would give you the warmth you need to return the natural red to your flesh and calm your thoughts enough to get you a few hours of sleep. Pushing open the kitchen door, you head straight towards Robin’s tea cabinet, where you keep your own stache of your favorite kind. 

“What in the hell are you doing up?” A deep voice behind you made you gasp and almost drop the teacup, spilling some hot water on yourself. 

“Holy shit, Zoro! You scared the hell out of me!” You gasped for breath. You held your tongue in pain as your nerves set off, warning that the water you dropped was currently giving you a fiery burn. “Shit!” you exclaimed. Heavy footfalls approached from behind you as you held your hand with a cold rag. His hand grabbed your slightly burnt hand.

“Didn’t mean to give you a fright.” He mumbled softly. Hearing Zoro speak softly calmed down any annoyance you had about your hand hurting in any way. In fact, the feeling of his rough hand against your soft flesh brought on a comfort you thought only stars could bring. Zoro wet the cloth and held it against your hand.

“You good?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. 

You stared at him, mouth agape like a fish out of water, as your mind was still processing what in the hell happened. 

“Yeah…I’m good.” You cleared your throat. “Just got burned a little, no biggie.” You smiled to show that you were alright. He gave your hand a squeeze before dropping it slowly with care. You looked at him and asked, “What are you doing in here so late?”

He shuffled his feet and looked at the ground.

“Kept waking up.” He replied almost sheepishly. Zoro gave you a once-over with his dark eye. Your night dress didn’t leave much to the imagination. Your nipples were evidently hard, lips slightly blue, and hair tousled from the cold wind outside. He visibly gulped, his pupils widening out to take you all in. 

His eye snapped to your face as you crossed your arms over your chest, unintentionally making your breasts spill out a little from the dress. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked almost sternly. 

You gave a small frown and a pout from his tone. He’s acting like he’s the only one that can be in this damn kitchen at this hour!

“I couldn’t sleep,” you said. “I sat outside for a bit, but it was freezing, so I came in for some tea to warm up.” You told him with indignation. 

“Oh yeah?” He shifted a little closer. “What kept you up?” Zoro asked cautiously. Almost like he wants to know the answer, but at the same time, doesn’t want to know. 

You flushed a little at the answer you know you can’t say. 

I can’t possibly say HE was the one keeping me up. Him and his stupid muscles and stupid eyes and hair and that stupid look on his face like he knows everything in the world! 

You pondered your answer for a little, but for Zoro, you were taking too long.

“Well?” He asked impatiently. He crossed his arms, almost flexing, and moved closer in front of you. Your cheeks were getting more flushed by the second. Quickly acting, you turned around back towards the tea cabinet to hide your glowing cheeks. But a strong hold on your wrist kept you from taking your first steps.

His footsteps grew closer and closer until you could feel the warmth of his chest against your back.

Your breath hitched.

“You gonna answer my question, (Y/N)?” His voice sounded right above your ear. Goosebumps rose along your neck, all the way down your arms, as his warm breath made contact with your skin. If you leaned back at all, your back would make contact with him. 

“Uhm..” Your voice cracked as you tried to rack your brain for any response at all.

“Hmm?” His hand was slowly making its way up your arm, fingers lightly brushing against your waist.

“I was… just thinking a lot.” You breathed out. His hand was now nearing your shoulder.

“Wanna tell me about what?” He replied in a deep voice. His hand was now fluttering along the back of your neck, making you tilt your head back a little bit. You gulped and prayed that he couldn’t feel the erratic heartbeat that was about to burst from the artery in your throat. With no reply from you, his fingers nestled into the groove of your neck and jaw. His thumb at the end of your jaw bone, and his fingers now below your chin tilted your head up even further. With nowhere else to look, you made eye contact with him.

His eye was a storm of emotions, his internal wall crumbling down at the sight of you melting in his hands. 

“I… I was thinking about today.” You whispered, afraid that if you talked, your voice would only crack some more. Zoro hummed in reply, urging you to continue. His other hand had now found its home on your waist, rubbing and squeezing your flesh. You gulped as you opened your mouth to continue. 

“About what happened” 

Zoro’s mouth twitched at the corner of his mouth. His gruff voice answered, “And what happened?” He wanted you to say it. Even if it took all night, he wanted you to tell him what he did to you.

With a few moments of silence, the hand on your waist moved to your stomach, his large fingers splayed out. You gasped in surprise at the feeling since you were still looking up into Zoro’s eyes. You were so pathetic in his hands. Your eyes were basically looking at him like a deer in headlights.

“We practiced… and I landed on you,” You pushed out in a somewhat shaky voice. His hand on your stomach started to move lower. 

“Yeah, you did,” he said teasingly but in his gruff voice. “Did you like practicing?” He asked.

His hold on your jaw and chin tightened slightly, and the hand on your stomach paused. Your face was flushed red, and your mouth was open, letting out small pants. 

“Yes…” You whispered. The hand on the stomach was moving up, now over your ribs.

“Keep talking,” Zoro ordered. His hand was now underneath your breast. You couldn’t help but clench your thighs together, feeling the wetness coat your thighs as you didn’t have panties on. 

“I liked it… feeling you,” You murmured. 

Zoro exhaled out a groan. His hand rewarded your answer by softly grabbing the bottom of your breast. 

“(Y/N)... You don’t know what you do to me.” He spoke into your ear, his head resting against yours. You leaned back, wanting to feel all of him. 

A gasp escaped your lips as your back made contact with his muscular chest. Your ass could feel the tip of his hard cock pushing up against his pants. 

“What do I do to you?” you asked softly. His nose was pressed into the side of your head, inhaling the scent of the perfume you used during the day and the shampoo you applied during the shower. 

Zoro groaned again. He let your chin go, now aiming for your stomach to push your bottom back lightly. His other hand was now fully grabbing your breast, but still cautiously, as if he was waiting for the moment when you would snap and tell him to back away. Your bottom made full contact with his erect cock. A shaky inhale moved through your lips as you felt his impressive length press up against you. 

“(Y/N)... I can show you what you do to me,” He said shakily. “If I show you, I won’t be able to stop.” 

Time stood still as his words made a direct impact on your sopping cunt. 

“Zoro…” You moaned out. “I… I need you.” You declared. 

His hands stopped squeezing and feeling your flesh, not yet touching you in the places you need him the most. He turned you around to face him. 

Zoro looked beautiful. His eye was half-lidded, mouth glistening with saliva from when he would wet his lips, and his ears were tipped with red- his own blush. 

His hands met your waist, pulling you close so you just feel his erection, but not so close to where you can’t see his whole face. 

“Are you sure?” He breathed. “I won’t be able to turn back if we do this. There is no way in hell I can move on after I fuck you.”

Your pussy clenched around nothing at the declaration of words finalized in the air. You met his steady gaze. Adoration, lust, and fear clouded his gaze.

"Zoro.." You swallowed. "Yes, I need you," your hands gripped his shirt. "I can't stop thinking about you. Your face, your hair, your voice, and how god damn hot you look without a shirt." You took steady breaths in and out at your confession, worried you took it a step further than you intended to.

Zoro's breath got stuck in his throat. His hands gripped yours, which were taking handfuls of his shirt. The silence from Zoro made you panic.

"It's not just today. It's every day." You clenched your eyes shut, scared to see disgust in his eyes. "I really like you, Zoro. I have for awhile and it's okay if you don't feel the same, really, I wouldn't- mmh!"

Zoro's lips crashed into yours at impeccable speed, almost knocking your head back, but his hand caught the back of your head. His other hand held the small of your back, pushing you closer to him. Your hands instinctively took place on his shoulder and his head, gripping his hair. After a few seconds, Zoro pulled away slightly, lips plump from the rough kissing.

"Do you ever stop talking, woman?" He murmured softly with a soft smile. His hand went to your ass, making you gasp.

"I've had my eyes on you since day one." He whispered against your lips. "I can't stop thinking about you, either. Your laugh, your smile, your stupid jokes." He gave your lips a small peck before he kissed the corner of your mouth, making his way down your jaw and to your throat. You gripped his hair, pushing him closer to your skin, savoring the feeling of his open mouth kisses against your most sensitive places along your throat.

"Zoro..." You moaned softly. His grip on your head and ass tightening as you moaned his name.

In between kisses, he kept telling you all the things he couldn't get off his mind. Your hair, your body, your hands, your beautiful face.

"I can't wait another day. I need you." He moaned as his lips were nearing your collar bone.

"Take me, then. Please..." You had no strand of self-respect in you to not plead. His lips felt like fire against you. A fire you couldn't put out. A fire you craved oh so dearly.

Zoro moaned in response. He pushed you back against the counter, his right hand found home on your breast, and his left on the back on your thigh. You threw your head back as his kisses made his way down to your breast that was being held by his veiny hand. Your hand gripped and pulled at his green strands, making him groan in response. His knee slotted between your thighs, making you mewl out at the first contact your wet cunt has been given.

Zoro pushed down the straps to your dress, making your tits pop out. His head rose from your chest, backing away to take in your whole chest.

"Shit, (Y/N)." His hand made contact with your bare flesh. Fingers nimbly taking your hard nipple in his fingers and rolling it around. You gripped his arm, feeling his muscles against your flesh. One of your hands made his way to his chest, wanting- no- needing to touch him. While Zoro's hand was preoccupied with one nipple, he took the other in his mouth, lips wrapped around your most sensitive area.

"Mmm, Zoro." You ran your nails up his chest and down his back. "I need... I need you." You couldn't help but whimper out. You pathetically started to grind on his knee, needing some sort of relief. He removed his hand from your breast and held your hips still. You were helplessly moaning out his name, pleading for him to pleasure you more. His lips left your nipple with a pop as he looked at you with an almost drunk expression.

"You that desperate, huh? That needy?" He moved his leg away from your cunt, causing you to wine out. Even if his hand stopped you from moving, you still felt relieved. He pushed his clothed cock against your dress, slowly grinding. You hissed out in pleasure, hands making way to his back, lifting his shirt off. He swiftly took it off, then looked into your eyes for permission to remove your dress. You nodded, needing him more than the Earth needs the Sun. Cold air rushed around your body as Zoro discarded the piece of clothing. He slammed his lips into yours in a heated make-out session. His tongue licked your lips, wanting permission to enter. Your hands made way to his pants, finding his hard cock pressing through his pants.

He groaned out against your lips, rutting against your hand. His calloused hands made work with your nipples, then down to your cunt where he explored your clit.

You gasped out in pleasure and moaned out, "Please, Zoro! Just need you!" Your nails clawed at his pants, tearing them open. Thick fingers made their way to your opening, feeling and slightly pushing in. Zoro was teasing you; he loved the way you cried out his name and begged him to touch you. One hand made its way to your chin, where he held your throat, more tightly this time. His head lowered next to your ears as your soft hands finally unzipped his pants, and gripped him through his boxers. He groaned in your ear, wanting you to hear what you were doing to him.

"Ya see? You see what you doin' to me?" He was basically panting in your ear. Months of pent-up sexual frustrations held back by his own fears of being rejected by you. You whimpered a response, trying to focus on getting him out of his boxers while his fingers stuffed you full.

"Shit, you're so wet. Is this what I do to you, hmm?" He held your throat a little tighter, needing an answer quickly before he burst.

"Y-Yes! Yes, Zoro!" His fingers curled upwards, finding the soft spot that would pleasure you the most.

"So many nights," he moaned as your hands grabbed him in full, rubbing his length up and down. "Shit, so many fucking nights- where I jerked off to you - mmm" His mouth was on your shoulder, leaving kisses and small bites. "I've been needing you. You're all I fucking need, do you hear me?" He bit down on your shoulder, making you cry out, "Yes! Yes! Me- me, too." You moaned out a little louder than you expected, not wanting to wake anyone. "Fuck- Zoro, please..." You whined in his ear.

He pulled away from you abruptly. His chest was flushed pink, his lips slightly bruised from the rough kisses, and his pupil blown out after seeing you fully naked.

"I could cum right now just looking at you," he heaved. "You're so fucking pretty- come here."

You straightened your shaky legs. Wetness dripping out of your pussy, coating your thighs and some of the floor. Zoro grabbed a blanket that was left on one of the chairs. You couldn't remember who it belonged to, your brain too wired out to think about anything other than the man you have been pining for for the last few months. He laid the blanket down on the floor.

"I know it's not romantic," He said, "But we're already naked, and I can't wait even an hour longer for you." He breathed out. You lay down on the blanket on the kitchen floor. Your breath labored, and your mind was overwhelmed by Zoro. His smell, a little sweat, alcohol, and cheap cologne surrounded you. You have indeed entered heaven.

Zoro held himself over you. The tip of his cock was dripping pre-cum and turning red from lack of attention. His earrings clanked as he leaned down to kiss you softly. You melted, feeling the tenderness and care behind the kiss. He rested on one elbow and knees as one hand rubbed you all over, taking you in inch-by-inch.

"I wanted to see your face." Zoro groaned out as his cock rubbed between your folds, gathering your wetness along his length. You hummed out a question, asking what he meant. Your legs wrapped around his waist, your hips gyrating on his cock, too impatient to wait for him. Zoro moaned, "The first time," he looked down at your body and his cock about to enter you. "Shit- I want to see your face when we do this for the first time. I needa see your face as I pleasure you. Needa hear you."

"Zoro, please. I'm ready- fuck, I need you. Need you so bad," you whined. Your hands tried pulling him closer, trying to do anything for him to fill you up. Zoro moved closer, inching his cock into your pussy, bit-by-bit.

You both gasped and groaned in unison at the new-found feeling. Zoro was thick and long, using up every space you could give. Your hand found his back, digging your nails in while the other gripped his hair, pulling it down for a kiss. He kissed you passionately as he bottomed out inside of you.

"(Y/N)... you're going to make me cum you're so tight." He groaned out. You whined in response, needing him to fuck you into the ground.

Zoro started moving his hips, slowly at first, but then started to pick up the speed.

"Oh- oh my God!" The pleasure you were being granted was nothing compared to what your fingers could do. Zoro was a mess, groaning and biting at your shoulder and neck and kissing your lips. Slapping wet sounds reverberated throughout the kitchen, along with your moans and Zoro's grunts.

Zoro shifted his hips, using one hand to paw at your breast, the other holding your head close to him. You saw stars at the new spot Zoro was hitting you at repeatedly. You squealed and cried until you felt Zoro's hand slap against your mouth.

"(Y/N)- mm- you're gonna wake up the whole damn crew." He told you.

You couldn't help it. The feeling of his rough hands gliding down your stomach, across your tits, and down to your clit brought on euphoria. You were yelling Zoro's name over and over behind his hand, but it came out muffled.

Zoro was trying so hard not to cum in the first few minutes of fucking you, wanting to make sure you cum first. Sweat rolled down his temple, absolutely losing it at the sound of you whining underneath him with his cock buried in you. Just the sound of you calling his name made him keep pumping his cock in and out of you.

"Sh-Shit!" Zoro groaned. He rubbed your clit faster and beat your pussy at a speed that took away all the air in your lungs. He needed you to cum with him. Otherwise, he won't feel like he deserves to be on top of you. He removed his hand from your mouth, wanting to hear you call to him a few more times.

"Zoro, Zoro! I-I-I'm gonna cum," you groaned, trying so hard not to yell.

"Cum with me. Do it." He demanded. Just like that, your legs convulsed, and your toes curled in, feeling like a star had exploded inside of you. Zoro pulled out quickly and shot cum all over your stomach and chest. He groaned out your name, his eyes trained on you and your body as he gave his cock a few more pumps.

You both were out of breath as Zoro collapsed next to you briefly before jumping up and grabbing some napkins. He carefully wiped away his cum from your stomach, making sure to get it all cleaned up. Your mind was blank. You were completely fucked out and unaware of your surroundings until you felt yourself being lifted. Zoro had wrapped the blanket around you, his clothes back on, and was lifting you on to the table.

"You okay?" He asked with a nod and a concerned looked at your flushed and sweaty face.

"Oh yea... more than okay." You huffed out, exhaustion finally claiming you. He gave you a small smile and tucked some hair behind your ear. He grabbed your dress from the floor, and helped you put it on, then rewrapped you in the blanket. You tried standing, but almost fell to the floor immediately from shaky legs.

"I got ya'," whispered Zoro into your hair. He lifted you up in your arms, and he brought you outside. It was still dark, but on the horizon, you could see the sun ever so slightly begin to rise. He sat you down on one of the outside couches where he sat next to you. You leaned your head on his shoulder, your hand finding his. Zoro brought your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles, making you blush.

"Thank you," you said softly to the swordsman.

Zoro said nothing, and you glanced up to see his eye closed, your hands clasped together on his chest. You smiled at him and rested your head back on his shoulder.

The stars were still out, twinkling happily at you. Happiness and peace moved through your body. The stars were the one constant you always looked up to in your life, but now, hopefully, you have one more thing to look up to. A stubborn swordsman that would lay down his life for you. A grumbly green-haired man you would have never thought would be holding your hand in a million years. Maybe, just maybe, he can be your constant- your new star.