#not sure what they could be looking at the bottom of a barrel that would get the reactions but lol

[adventuresofjasperboone]

Yeehawgust Day 31: Bottom of the Barrel

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Red. That was all Simon could see as he barreled through the barracks, ignoring the concerned onlookers as he slammed open door after door.

He was just washing up for the day, ready to head to his quarters when he’d heard whispers of you being admitted to medical. The words “banged up pretty good” were all he needed to hear before setting off in a panic to find you.

You were everything to him. Simon Riley was a man who swore he’d die alone and be happy doing so, until you came along. You, with your terrible jokes, your witty personality, your loyalty and determination and gods damn your fucking smile. He’d do anything to see you smile.

Love wasn’t something that came easy to Simon, but with you it did. Loving you was as easy as breathing, it was natural. He loved you from the moment he saw you, and would love you until the day he died.

The door to the infirmary flung open, and Simon strode in with purpose, his eyes scanning the entire room. When they landed on you, Simon felt his heart drop, his blood running cold.

“Who did this?” Was all he said, his cold gaze softening ever so slightly as he took in every cut and bruise that littered your beautiful skin. It took everything in him not to yell, to scream.

Your eyes dropped from his, your lips forming a thin line as the nurse beside you finished stitching the large cut that now adorned your shoulder.

“Y/N.” His voice was stern, causing you and the nurse to jump slightly.

With a small smile aimed at you, the nurse gave a polite nod to Simon as she ran past, leaving the two of you alone in the now eerily silent room.

“Tell me.” Simon demanded, sinking to his knees in front of you. When you still refused to meet his gaze, he gently rested his index finger on your chin and tilted your head to look at him. His eyes were soft, gentle as he gazed into your own. “Tell me.”

The tenderness in which Simon looked at you had your lower lip wobbling, a soft sob slowly escaping your mouth as you replayed what had happened in your head. “Simon, it’s okay.”

“It’s not. You need to tell me what happened.” His finger gently began to graze your cheek, a tenderness that you’d grown used to over the years with him. A tenderness reserved only for you.

“The mission went south. There was a mole. We got ambushed.” Was all you said, as you struggled to regain your composure.

“Who.”

“Simon, please it’s really okay, I-.”

“Who.”

Your brows furrowed slightly as Simon ripped off his mask, his face now fully visible to you. Concern etched its way across his features as he held your gaze. You knew this was a battle you wouldn’t win.

“Coles. It was Coles.”

“He dead?” Simon asked, his face not showing any of his internal turmoil. If he wasn’t, Simon would make damn well sure he’d suffer for what had happened to you.

You shook your head as your bottom lip trembled once more. “No, but Simon-.”

Simon cut you off with a gentle kiss to your temple, his lips lingering against your skin as he murmured, “Sleep in my quarters tonight, yeah? I’ll be back soon.”

Without waiting for your reply, he strode out of the infirmary, the red in his vision intensifying as he set out to find the mole. Nobody, nobody would harm a hair on his lovers head and get away with it.

Simon would do anything for you, die for you, kill for you. He’d do anything to make sure that beautiful smile of yours was permanently etched onto your lips.

For you, Simon Riley would watch the world burn.

[littlenightma]

Run, Rabbit, Run | Thomas Hewitt x Female!Reader (NSFW)

Author’s Note: *slams post button* Here you go, sluts *evil cackle*

Warning tags: Primal kink, chase kink, breeding kink, lots o’ smut.

The Texas sun kissed your sweat-soaked skin with a harsh pressure of a thousand blow torches. His heavy breathing and roaring of his chainsaw pushed you forward, to keep going no matter what stood before you, but the persistent throbbing between your legs teased the resilience of your rapidly depleting willpower.

Miles separated you from the farm house and separated you from the rest of civilization. Oceans upon oceans of rocky dirt, dying grass, and the occasional road kill were all that could be seen.

The radiating sun, which had been sitting proudly in the sky to the East, now sat lamely in the West beginning to hide beyond the horizon. The ivory moon would force away its suffocating heat, providing the barest of illumination, increasing your chances at escaping.

A small part of you wished the sun would stay out and light up the world just a little while longer.

“You’re so polite for someone your age. You remind me so much of my boy Thomas.”

“If he’s anything like you, ma’am, he has to be the sweetest boy around.”

He was a six foot tall mountain of muscle and power, running with the determination of a blood hound tracking the scent of a wounded animal. When you thought you had successfully outsmarted him by suddenly changing directions within the tall, golden thickets at the last second, he’d still be barreling after you, unphased, no further than he was before.

There were moments, fleeting as they were, but impressionable nonetheless, where he had been so close to getting a hold of you. So close, the slight breeze from his hand attempting to grab your hair raised your skin, sucking the breath from your chest as you narrowly dodge him.

And that made things even more thrilling.

His grunts of frustration were muffled by his mask and the tight curve of his bottom lip. The lip jutted out awkwardly and looked as if it had been stung by a bee the way it was swollen.

Deformed.

And this deformed man was coming after you.

To him you were an outsider. A pest that needed eradicating. Even though his Mama willingly invited you into their home, he made you feel as if you were trespassing anyway. He wanted to kill you then and you were sure as shit he wanted to now, probably more than ever seeing how you keep escaping him.

She’d had asked him to keep you alive so assuming that he’d follow through with her request, your life would be spared, but for what sick reason? Would death be more lenient than what they had planned for you?

Of all days for your tire to blow out…

“Here he comes now,” said the woman, smiling expectantly as the basement door opened and out from the darkened staircase came Thomas.

The boy, no man, stood protectively behind the older woman. He placed his hands on her shoulders, watching you with narrowed eyes that were partially covered by a curtain of black, curly hair. To you, they looked like snakes ready to strike, and so did he.

His nose and lower half of his face was covered by a worn, leather mask that wrapped around the base of his head with thick straps. It looked uncomfortable to wear as it was was to look at.

He was not pleased to see a stranger sitting in his living room and you wanted to sink deeper into the faded couch and disappear. Maybe if you pushed against the cushions hard enough.

A muffled scream came from the basement. Luda Mae glanced up at her son then back to you. Your back straightened.

“What was that?”

She smiled, yet it didn’t quite reach her eyes, “Nothing, dear.”

Again, the basement door opened, and out came a man in a Sheriff’s uniform. Fresh blood splattered across his chest and arms, trickling down as he sauntered his way into the room.

“Who in the hell is this pretty thing?”

Time slowed down and so did your breathing. All three had you pinned with various stares ranging from curiosity, understanding, and searing contempt. You weren’t going to risk it. You jumped from the couch and hauled ass out the door, leaving a trail of dust behind.

“Son of a bitch,” said Hoyt. “Boy, go get her before she causes us any trouble.”

Luda Mae grabbed Thomas’ hand. “Keep this one alive, baby. She’ll be good one to have around.”

Thomas wanted to argue his Mama’s odd request, but the sweet smile she gave him and the gentle way she held his hand made him reconsider. He didn’t want her, that’s for damn sure, but whatever his Mama wanted, she’d get.

In the midst of your recollection you realized it was ominously quiet behind you. Peering back, he was no longer running after you. I’m fact, he wasn’t there at all.

You spun around, eyes frantically searching the desolate landscape. He didn’t just vanish into thin air, not a man of his size, yet he had. The weeds danced and suddenly parted, revealing him on all fours as he pushed himself off the ground, propelling into you with a gut-wrenching force, knocking you onto your back.

His full body weight had you pinned, flattening the dry brush beneath you. His barrel-chest heaved and his hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing. As frightened as you were, a strange sense of relief washed over and the instinct to raise your hips overtook you.

He tried moving away, but your legs locked him in. You awkwardly shimmied your shorts down and he watched you. His anger dissipated, replaced by hunger the more of your thighs he saw.

You captured his curious gaze, “Look how wet you made me.”

Your hand reached down and massaged your aching pussy through your sodden underwear. You were a mess, physically and mentally, and if you didn’t get fucked soon you were going to go rabid.

“Thomas, please. Don’t make me beg for it. You know what I want.”

Hearing his name revved him up like an engine. He could practically smell you through his mask. Your pussy glistened beneath the moonlight and he was more than willing to comply. With one hand still around your throat, he used the other to hastily unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants.

He roughly pushed your soaked panties aside and thrusted roughly inside you with a loud grunt. It was swift and had you not been as wet as you were you knew it would have hurt more than it did. You gasped and cried out, pounding your fist to the ground. He fucked you like an animal. It was exactly what you’d been yearning for and if felt so fucking good to finally get it.

His hips bucked with a mighty strength, sending you backwards every time. It made it hard for him to keep himself inside you without having to adjust his position. He scooped you up like a rag doll and pinned you against a tree, folding you between it and his body. The change in position was too much as the angle allowed him to reach new depths inside you, hitting spots you never knew you had, sending you over the edge.

Your climax arrived so suddenly that it left you silently shaking and clinging to Thomas. Your pussy clamped down like the jaws of a lion and he growled, spilling his seed inside you from the tightness.

He laid you both down on the ground with your back to him. You took the time to catch your breath and settle down, but Thomas had other plans. He raised your top leg in the air, spreading you wide and began pumping again.

“Slow, Thomas. I’m really sore.”

Not thinking he’d actually do as you asked, you were surprised at the gradual way he eased his thick cock back into your pussy, keeping a close eye on your face. Although you were too spent to cum again, you nestled back against his chest and idly enjoyed his thrusts.

“Just like that, Thomas. Oh…”

His head was right there and the temptation to kiss him was too good to pass up. Soft lips met his through the mask and he jerked back, stopping his movements altogether.

“God, don’t you stop, Thomas. Your cock is too good. Come back here.”

You wrapped an arm around his head and he let you bring him back down. This time he kissed back, licking and sucking your lips like they were made of chocolate. You were in absolute bliss, not thinking clearly, lost in a haze of euphoria.

With his mouth full of you and you full of him, he groaned a guttural sound that didn’t sound quite human. Your pussy took his second load with open arms, milking every last bit of him he had left to offer. You broke the sloppy kiss to watch his cock pulse and his balls twitch, finding it super erotic.

His cock left you open and wide. You clenched your walls and streams of his fresh cum gushed out. You swiped some and brought it to your lips with Thomas watching in clear fascination. You then offered your finger to him.

He titled his head and inspected the leftover fluid. After some time of pondering his tongue tentatively flicked out, considering the taste, then placed your entire finger in his mouth. He sucked until there was nothing left to suck except the saltiness of your skin.

Using the tree as a support, you carefully maneuvered up. Everything was sore, from your head down to your hips and the simple task of bending down seemed impossible. In an oddly sweet gesture, Thomas gathered your shorts and helped you put them back on.

“You know,” you began, eyes twinkling mischievously, “It’s a long way back to the house. Who knows what could happen on the way there.”

Thomas made a sound caught between a chuckle and a scuff. He watched you strut away, eyes glued to your bouncing ass.

His Mama was right. You were worth keeping around.

[princessbrunette]

you’d always been a nerd, there was no doubt about that — it’s only now you were older, you were known as a nerd who was filling out her bikini top, and jiggling in her bikini bottoms. now, unlike yourself — you sit on a little boat out on the water with the infamous pogues.

it was jj who invited you here. it was always jj — he’d been enthralled to see the sexy little thing you’d grown into adulthood as. he’d spotted you whilst working at the library, frowning over a file book of library card entries with cute pouty lips and reading glasses that he wanted to cover in cum. hed always thought you were cute at school, but now he just had to have you. he’d used his charms on you, and now you were nervously tucked into his side, ‘making friends’ with his friends as he’d described it. “gotta get ya out there, there’s a whoooole life to be lived outside these books, you know that?”

he was burrowing through his backpack, leaning over on the boat beside you to find the weed he’d packed, clearly set on corrupting you for fun.

“its the best of the best— like, perfect for a beginner—” he rambles, dumping things out his backpack struggling to find the small baggie of prerolls he’d prepared.

“jesus, jj do not corrupt the poor girl.” john b bites back the entertained smile, lifting his head from where he lounged in the sun to look at you. “you sure you’re okay with this sweetheart? can totally… you know, stick to what you know.” he shrugs, sympathetically and you shake your head, wide eyes finding the blondes.

“its okay, told jj i’ve always wanted to try. he said he’d hook me up.” you smile politely, still a little shy around the group.

“yeah but he’s being weird about it.” kiara glares at her friend with her nose turned up, nudging him with her foot nearly knocking his balance off. “dont be a creep.”

“look i’m not being a creep, alright! ‘said she wanted to try, and i’m being a good citizen and simply helping this sweet young lady out dabbling in just a lil bit of herb okay so i don’t wanna—” he dives headfirst into another one of his rants, but is quieted by your gasp when a couple of items fall out his backpack, including a gun.

“nice work.” pope shakes his head and your eyes widen, looking around wondering why no one else is concerned.

“why do you have a gun, jj?” you scandalise and he picks it up casually, flipping it in his hands making you shuffle away, jaw agape.

“gotta protect my people, what’s wrong wi’that? look i’m a pro at usin’ this thing— set up a little target practice in john b’s backyard and lemme tell you, i have quite the aim.” he waves it around making you stiffen up, touching his bicep to stop him from being so reckless.

“god, you must be careful with that thing. they’re dangerous jj! i read that these pistols just go off at random all the time, you could seriously hurt someone and i don’t wanna be the person who gets shot by accident! do you even—” you freak, and he turns his body to you shuffling closer and silencing you.

“shh, shh, shh, shh — hey. it’s all good. i would never accidentally shoot a pretty girl. trust me, i’m so careful.” he smirks, bringing the tip of the barrel to your lips making you freeze with wide eyes. to keep you there as he speaks, an arm slings over your shoulder, his clammy hand gently grasping the back of your neck. you know you should be scared, the boy seems reckless and unhinged — and worst of all, his friends seemed used to it which tells you he does this shit all the time — but something about it made your cunt throb, dampening your bikini bottoms and subtly pressing your thighs together as you felt your skin heat up.

maybe it was all the books you read, but you’d always loved a bad boy.

“seriously bro? you’re scaring her.” kiara complains, leaning across and yanking the pistol out his hand and shoving it back into his backpack.

fast forward a few hours, and you’re back at the chateau, the only ones inside in john b’s bedroom. you’re looser, high and relaxed from the joint jj had talked you through smoking — and now you were laying your head on his bicep, his free hand down your panties rubbing your copious juices into your swollen clit.

“cant believe you’ve never been touched like this, mama. been missing out on heaven, right?” he grins, leaning down to kiss at your cheek when your eyes flutter closed, so out of it and blissful.

“mm… wanted this since…” you trail off, lips parting and brows furrowing when he curls his finger inside you.

“nah, go on. since when… tell me how long this pretty pussy’s been horny for papa j.” he dirty talks so well you clench hard around him, working up the courage. it didn’t take much, the intoxication and lust making you brave.

“since you put the gun to my lips.” you admit quietly and his jaw drops gleefully, speeding up his fingers.

“seriously? damn i knew you were gonna be a freak. it’s always the quiet ones, always dude.” he celebrates to himself before staring down at you adoringly. “man, i’m gonna have so much fun with you, pretty girl.”

[helen-with-an-a]

Hii! I’m not sure if you write for Leah but if you do, I was thinking of a fic where the reader is the captain of the red roses and competing in the 6 nations and Leah goes to majority of the games and the final and the reader is the player of the match in nearly every game and go onto to win and Leah is there for the final game?? Thank you🫶🏼

Hiiii - I just wanted to say I'm so sorry for how long this took me to get to. Also, I know very little about Rugby, so that's why it's a little short on the specifics. I also have tried to do a little social media au bit at the bottom - what do you guys think? Is that something you would want more of? Anyways, I hope you enjoy it.

Roses

Leah Williamson x Reader

Description: Leah watches R win the Six Nations

Word Count: 1.7k (excluding social media bit)

You had done it. With the final whistle blown the wave of relief washed over you. You had done it. Six Nations Winners. As Captain! Was this how Leah felt when she won the Euros? You laughed a little – of course your first thought would be of your girlfriend. Your beautiful, sexy, gorgeous girlfriend that was currently screaming her head off in the family and friends section.

Someone barrelled into - crushing you in a tight hug. You didn’t know who it was, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. You were so happy, so utterly elated, that you could barely contain yourself. The cheers of the crowd, the hugs from your teammates, and the sight of Leah being here, in person. She couldn’t make it to a lot of your games – her own matches often getting in the way. But she had moved mountains to get to your games this tournament. You had insisted that she didn’t need to. She had scoffed, kissed the back of your neck and walked away, tapping at her phone.

All you wanted to do was march over to Leah, snap her into a tight, tight hug and never let her go. And maybe drag her away to the changing rooms to have your way with her. But you couldn’t do that … not right now. It had been a long series for you. You had played every minute of every game. You were exhausted but none of that matter. You had a medal round your neck. A gold medal. You were Captain of one of the best rugby team in the world. You had done it. You couldn’t help the tears that spilled down your cheeks.

As the medals were handed out, you scanned the crowd. All of these people, here to see your team. You. You were in shock. Gone were the days of a few hundred people in the stands. This was what it was for. The gruelling training sessions, the strategic planning, the sacrifices made – all culminating in this singular moment. Your mind flashed back to the countless hours of dedication, the injuries you had fought through, and the unwavering support from Leah, who had been your rock throughout it all. Now, looking at her beaming face, you felt an immense surge of gratitude and love.

You lifted your head, absorbing the cheers and the vibrant energy in the stadium. This was your moment.

Eventually, you made your way over to the stands. Your mum was the first to greet you. You couldn’t really make out the words, something about how proud she was and how much she loved you. Your dad had done something similar – a usually quiet and stoic man reduced to tears. They pressed lots of wet kisses to your forehead and cheeks. If you had cared enough, you might have been embarrassed. You never were one for public affection. Normally, your parents just hugged your tightly and waited for you to be back home before doing anything else.

But here you were, your eyes locked with Leah’s as she watched you cry slightly at your parents reactions.

“Oh, my girl. We’ll wait for you in the family and friends room, ok?” your mum gave you a final squeeze before turning back towards the exit. Your father gave you a pat on the shoulder and a thumbs up before following on.

“Le,” you half breathed half sobbed. She stepped forward, her long arms wrapping around you.

“I’m so, so proud of you, beautiful,” she whispered into your hair.  

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” you replied, your voice choked with emotion.

She pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, her hands cupping your face.

“You’ve always had it in you. You just needed to believe it,” she said softly, her eyes shimmering with tears of her own. The love and pride in her gaze made your heart swell.

You leaned into her touch, closing your eyes for a moment, savouring the warmth and comfort she always brought you. “Thank you for being here,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the noise of the celebrating crowd.

“Where else would I be?” Leah replied with a smile, brushing a stray tear from your cheek.

“I love you, so much,” you laughed wetly.

“I love you too, my champion.” You pulled her back into a hug, your arms tightening with every passing heartbeat.

“I knew you had muscles, but I do need to breathe, baby.” Leah laughed a little.

“Sorry,” you said shyly, unable to stop the blush that bloomed across your cheeks.

“No worries. I just quite like being alive,” she teased.

You laughed along with her, the sound mingling with the roar of the crowd around you. “I’ll try to remember that,” you said, loosening your grip just a fraction but still holding her close. You never wanted to let her go.

The two of you stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s arms amidst the chaos of the celebration. It was a perfect bubble of peace and love in the middle of the jubilant pandemonium. Eventually, Leah pulled back slightly, just enough to press a soft kiss to your lips. “You should go celebrate with your team,” she murmured, her eyes twinkling. “This is your moment.”

“No,” you whined, the thought of letting her go, even for a moment, felt impossible.

“Yes,” she joked in the same tone. “Go one. I’ll still be here.” She kissed the top of your head.

“Fine. But stay close, okay? I want to share this with you.”

“Always,” she promised, giving you one last squeeze before letting you go.

You turned back towards the field, where your teammates were still revelling in the victory. You jogged over to them, feeling the weight of the gold medal around your neck, a tangible symbol of your hard work and dedication. As you approached, they engulfed you in a group hug, laughter and cheers filling the air.

“We did it, Captain!” one of your teammates shouted, clapping you on the back.

“Couldn’t have done it without all of you,” you replied, grinning from ear to ear. The camaraderie and mutual respect you shared with your team were palpable, the culmination of years of training and playing together.

As the celebrations continued on the field, you caught sight of Leah standing on the sidelines, her eyes never leaving you. She was your anchor, your biggest supporter, and seeing her pride made the victory even sweeter.

The team eventually moved to the locker rooms, where the celebrations continued with even more fervour. Champagne was popped, and laughter echoed off the walls. You were soaked to the bone, but you didn’t care. This was a moment to remember.

Later, as the excitement began to settle, you found a quiet moment to slip away and find Leah. She was waiting for you just outside the locker room, her smile lighting up the dim hallway. “Come with me,” you said, taking her hand and leading her to a more private area away from the noise.

Once you were alone, you turned to her, your eyes searching hers. “Leah, I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy,” you said, your voice soft but filled with emotion.

“I know the feeling,” she replied, her hand squeezing yours gently. “I’ve watched you pour your heart and soul into this. Seeing you achieve your dreams… it’s everything.”

You pulled her close again, resting your forehead against hers. “Thank you for being here, for believing in me even when I didn’t believe in myself.”

“That’s what love is, isn’t it?” she said softly. “Believing in each other, supporting each other’s dreams. And I’ll always believe in you.”

You kissed her then, a deep, lingering kiss that conveyed all the emotions you couldn’t put into words. When you finally pulled back, you smiled at her, a smile that was a mixture of relief, joy, and overwhelming love. “Let’s go join the others,” you said, taking her hand again.

You both walked back to the family and friends room, where your parents and friends were waiting. The room erupted into cheers and applause as you entered, and you felt a surge of gratitude for all the people who had supported you along the way.

Your mum was the first to reach you, enveloping you in a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you, sweetheart,” she said, her voice choked with emotion. “You’ve worked so hard for this.”

“Thanks, Mum,” you replied, hugging her back just as tightly. “I couldn’t have done it without you and Dad.”

Your dad, pulled you into a bear hug next. “You’ve made us all so proud,” he said, his voice thick with tears. “You’re a true champion.”

“Thanks, Dad,” you said, your own tears threatening to spill over again.

As the celebrations continued, you took a moment to look around the room. These were the people who had been there for you through thick and thin, the ones who had believed in you even when you doubted yourself. And at the centre of it all was Leah, her smile radiant and her love unwavering.

You made your way back to her, pulling her into another hug. “I love you so much,” you whispered into her ear.

“I love you too, my champion,” she replied, her voice full of pride and affection.

The night went on, filled with laughter, love, and celebration. It was a night you would never forget, a night where all your dreams had come true. And through it all, Leah was by your side, the constant source of support and love that had helped you achieve your greatest triumph.

As the festivities wound down and the night grew late, you found a quiet corner to sit with Leah. “This has been the best day of my life,” you said, leaning your head on her shoulder.

“Mine too,” she replied, wrapping her arm around you. “And it’s just the beginning. There are so many more adventures and victories ahead for us.”

You smiled, feeling a sense of peace and contentment. “I can’t wait to share them with you.”

leahwilliamsonn just posted

liked by redrosesrugby, englandrugby and others

leahwilliamsonn My champion 🏉🥇👑🏆❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍

yourusername Couldn't have done it with out you

leahwilliamsonn my beautiful girl

mbrighty04 lets fucking goooooo

lucybronze icons

elliekildunne captains that win international tournaments together stay together

leanneinfante189 only the best for my captain ❤️❤️❤️

yourusername just posted

liked by lionesses, englandrugby and others

yourusername Screaming Crying Throwing up. To the girls - I love you, I'm so proud of you; To the fans - We heard you and felt your love every step of the way; To my Leah - you are my everything, I couldn't have done this without you

leahwilliamsonn My baby you deserve the world I'm so proud

yourusername don't make me cry leahwilliamsonn *again yourusername fuck off

leahwilliamsonn This is all you

ellawyrwas Captain o captain

alessia 🔥🔥🔥

catherinewellss_ I wanna be you when I grow up

stanwaygeorgia elite

Morwenna_talling that's my girllllllllllll

[dearharriet]

could i request james potter x reader where james discovers reader’s small “j.f.p.” tattoo on her hip and he’s like !!! obsessed :D<3 ofc only if u feel like writing it love u 🦌

this is such a cute ideaaa !! ty for the request my darling, I hope you’re well! (wc: 860) (cw: non-sexual nudity)

You’d gotten it while James was away on a trip with friends. Not exactly a whim-of-the-moment thing, but neither was it entirely planned. You knew you wanted him on you somewhere, sometime, and then Marlene asked you to accompany her for a septum piercing…

The rest fell into place. There was a small postcard in your pocket that you’d pulled from your mailbox, with James’ scratchy handwriting detailing his excursions and how much he missed you. At the bottom, he’d signed his initials, and that was what you gave the artist for reference.

There was a week of marveling at it afterwards, tracing over it with your fingertips every time your shirt lifted and wondering what James would say. If he had come home a couple days earlier, you might’ve gone with your heart and shown him right away, but he didn’t.

So when James barreled through the door of your shared apartment, towing bags and gifts, you stayed silent.

The two of you had dinner, sat down for a movie that you didn’t watch. James described the whole trip and rubbed your feet and told you he missed you. You knew you couldn’t keep the tattoo a secret, but you couldn’t will yourself to bring it up, either.

Later in the night, when only your bedroom lamps were on anymore, James came back from the shower in a skimpy towel wrap.

“Babylove, I don’t think getting dressed is in the cards for me tonight.”

You were laying on the bed, one arm under your smooshed face and the other hanging limp over the side.

James went to the dresser, smiling at your drowsy eyes and kicking feet. You murmured something like ‘good’ before he dropped his towel.

“Yeah, good,” he teased, tugging a pair of boxers on.“‘Cept I think we oughtta even the playing field here.”

Curiously, you flipped onto your back to see James better. He was in the middle of crawling onto the bed, hands and knees on each side of your legs.

“What are we evening?”

At your waist, James smiled up at you, hands leaving the bed to sweep under your night shirt.

“Oh,” you breathed, and then lifted your arms and allowed him to tug it off. You glanced furtively to the waistband of your sleep shorts, catching the sliver of ink peeking out of the top before James’ hands were there.

“Y’okay bird?”

Looking up, you met James’ careful eyes, nodding your express approval. His lips twisted, and then his needling fingers retreated from your shorts to soothe up your waist.

“Yeah? Sure?” he asked, and you put your hands in his hair to reassure him, somewhat pressed for words. “So quiet.”

“Sorry,” you managed, hands venturing over his shoulders. “Just missed you.”

You felt the truth of that curling in your belly, and James must’ve seen it on your face. Smiling wide, he swooped in to plant a sloppy kiss on your cheek. “You too.”

A second kiss on the opposite cheek, and then he was back to business undressing you.

You sucked a breath in as the elastic pulled and slid down your hips, and the whole mass of scribbles caught light. James’ eyes were on your face, your hair all fanned out, but when he sat back to toss the shorts they traveled south and—

He froze. You can’t say for how long, but it felt an eternity, your breath held tight in your chest. When your body caught up with itself and exhaled, James’ name tumbled out with it, questioning and nervous.

His eyes flicked up to you for less than a second, a sliver of acknowledgment before he’d glued his eyes on the tattoo again. Something was swimming behind his expression, and you couldn’t gauge if it was bad or good.

“Jamie,” you said again, squirming, “please say something.”

With one finger, James traced the loops and turns of his own handwriting on your skin, swallowing dryly.

“Baby,” he finally spoke, a cloying ache in his voice. “Baby.”

Finally catching your gaze again, James just gawked at you with the awe of ten men. He was touching you, absently, reverently, which you figured was a good sign.

Not quite knowing what to say, you let him work out his thoughts, staying very still.

“This is real?” You nodded, and James’ lashes fanned over his cheeks as he gave it yet another look. Then, with a spoonful of disbelief he asked, “When?”

Hips shifting a bit under him, you said, “while you were away. It’s from your letter.”

“I know what it’s from,” James assured you. “I just can’t believe…”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, beckoning James’ attention.

“If you don’t like it, Jamie, I really want you to tell me. I won’t be offended.”

James shook his head ardently.

“I really love it, bird. Really truly. I just can’t fathom how lovely you are.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from cheesing, and James’ lips curled up too, a mirror of yours.

“Though,” he said, finally settling himself on top of you, “if I’d known that’s where my signature was going, I’d have signed my full name.”

+

thank u for reading! xx

[quarterlifecrisis-activated]

This line has haunted me for a while now. It was a line I overlooked but it still felt important. It’s not just about Zheng’s ship but piracy as a whole. Piracy in the show is a male dominated field run under toxic masculinity and pressures. Throughout season 1 the idea gets reinforced that piracy is just this way, and to survive and thrive you have to conform to its standards. Izzy and Calico Jack and even the Badminton twins have this firm idea of what piracy is and should be.

Let’s look at season 1 episode 1. Stede as captain and the Revenge as a whole is played as a joke pirate ship. We know that the crew is considered bottom of the barrel when it comes to what you would want for a bloodthirsty pirate horde. Throughout the season this is pointed out over and over again. Izzy says that they’re not real pirates and I agree. At least they’re not real pirates as set by the standard of piracy. The crew are kind, they do crafts and like to be read to. Pirates don’t have friends and they don’t make things they steal them. Pirates also don’t live long. Most of the pirates Ed knows are dead. Frankly, the only reason Ed, Izzy, Fang, and Ivan are probably still alive is because Blackbeard doesn’t actually have to do raids because everyone surrenders. I firmly believe that if Stede and the crew tried to be “real” pirates they would’ve all died. Stede is not a good pirate by the end of season 1. Honestly, I don’t really think he’s trying to be. He doesn’t actually want to be a pirate, I mean if you told that man that he’d be responsible for a pirate fleet he’d probably faint. By the end of season 1 you could make the argument that the way Stede runs his ship is not conducive to successful piracy. That is until you meet Zheng Yi Sao.

Needless to say that Zheng is the most successful pirate we’ve seen on the show. Her fleet is massive and she conquered China. She’s an amazing pirate and she also defies the standard for piracy set by season 1. Her crew of the Red Flag (much like the Revenge) have communal activities, good food, they’re open with each other. If being successful as a pirate means adhering to toxic ideals where you’re on your own and you have to stab each other in the back to survive, Zheng’s fleet should be like that. But it’s not. Because true success is not about if you can get the thing you want but how long you can hold onto it. The other way leads to death and mutiny because being individualistic means you cannot be loyal to anything but your own self interest. With how spread out Zheng’s fleet is it would be so easy for someone to mutiny and take some of her ships. We can see Zheng fosters a sense of camaraderie among her crew. Season 2 shows that the idea that piracy is mean and toxic because it has to be is wrong. I’m sure if they got a season 3 they’d further develop this point.

Notably, Zheng’s crew are mostly all women. Much like the Revenge, these crews are full of marginalized people. Historically, marginalized groups had to develop their own community because they were not getting support on their own. It’s also no surprise that the main advocates for the old way of piracy were white men. They were told that they could do whatever they wanted by themselves and that they didn’t need to rely on anyone. And that was true… until they couldn’t keep up and then they were chewed up and spit out. You don’t last long on your own.

That’s why Zheng is such a threat to Ricky. Not just because she has a large fleet but because she was organizing other pirates. One pirate can be stopped but all of them are too formidable. We see this in season 1 when Stede is about to be executed. Ed alone can’t stop it, even though he’s Blackbeard, but once the entire crew defends Stede things change. The system thrives on people standing alone because they’re easy to quash, but also who needs to worry about a jumpstart pirate captain because sooner or later they’ll be mutinied against. I think this is what Izzy comes to see throughout season 2 and informs his speech to Ricky. Maybe the real piracy was the collective action and community we made along the way.

Circling back to the quote that started this, men don’t fit in with Zheng’s crew because they were purposely fed the lie that reliance on each other and community building was weak and soft. They’d have to unpack the lie they’ve been fed their whole life. The crown and piracy are two sides of the same coin holding up the same status quo. But piracy is dying because it was never designed to last. The crew of the Revenge live against all odds because to them it’s not about piracy itself but community and family. And those ideas can’t be killed.

[wraithlafitte]

you're no femme fatale

pairing: dean winchester x f!reader

CONTENT: use of y/n, dubcon (mission sequence), soft dom!reader, guided masturbation, light degradation (m!receiving), stripping, begging, scratching, hair pulling, handjob, exhibitionism if you squint

word count: 3.3k

a/n: anon request here! enjoy 🖤 honestly felt like i was scraping the bottom of the barrel to keep this interesting LOL hope it's what you wanted

"No. No way in hell I'm doing that," you said, throwing up your hands and backing away from the table, littered with piles of Sam's research.

"Aw, come on, Y/N," Sam protested. "You're the only one of us that could do it."

"I am not entertaining some dirty old man for this," you snapped, snatching up a museum scan of the artifact you were supposed to steal. "We'll find another way."

"If there was another way, I'd be asking you to do that," Sam said, furrowing his brow. "This is the path of least resistance. You get in his office, slip it into your dress while he's not looking, and we'll come get you after ten minutes. That's it."

You huffed a sigh and crossed your arms.

Just then, Dean returned from his fast food run, greasy paper bags in hand. "Hey, nerds," he greeted impishly. "Grub's on."

You rolled your eyes as he plopped the bags right in the middle of Sam's papers.

"So, what's the plan for tonight?" Dean asked, settling himself into a chair and unwrapping a double cheeseburger.

"You would know if you had stayed to help make it," you replied annoyedly.

Dean flicked his eyebrows. "No need to get testy."

Sam sighed, deciding to intervene before things got ugly. You and Dean weren't exactly known for getting along, tolerating each other just enough to get jobs done when you had to. This was mostly due to the fact that you thought Dean was a douchebag, and he just dished back whatever you threw at him.

"The best plan we've got so far is that Y/N seduces the guy," Sam explained.

Dean snorted, almost spitting out his too-large bite of burger. "I'm sorry what?"

"I figure we'll never be able to get in there during the event, since it'll be so locked down," Sam continued. "Our best bet is getting him to let one of us in."

"Have you seen her?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow and giving you a once-over. "Not exactly the seducing type."

You looked down at your current outfit. Cargo pants and a mens t-shirt topped with a utility vest and a leather bomber jacket. He had a point, although not for the reasons he thought. You could dress up, you just chose to dress practically. More pockets for knives. No, you just weren't sure you'd be able to convince the man you wanted him. Seventy-something sleazebags weren't exactly high on your to-fuck list.

"For once, I agree with Dean." You tossed the photo back onto the table. "Can we think of something else, please?"

"Yeah, as much as I'd like to see her try and pretty up to get in some old dude's pants, there's gotta be a more surefire way," Dean said with his mouth full. "Cuz you're no femme fatale," he added pointedly.

You were getting a little annoyed at his jabs. "You don't think I can do it?" you asked, looking at him through narrowed eyes.

"Sister, I don't think you could seduce a virgin," Dean scoffed.

You turned to Sam, bristling. "That's it then. I'll do it."

"What?" Dean said loudly through his half-chewed bite.

Sam looked at you with concern. "Are you sure? Just because Dean-"

"I'm sure." You set your jaw confidently. "Let's go to the charity event."

"We're heading out to the car," Sam called through the bathroom door, where you were putting on the finishing touches to your makeup.

"Be right there," you called back, surveying yourself in the mirror. Not bad, you thought, considering the last time you put on this much makeup was prom night. You had tried to go for something an old man would like: a classic red lip and smoky eye that paired pretty well with the vintage-looking slinky black satin dress you'd found at the thrift store around the corner. It went down to your ankles, showing off your heels, and had a long slit that made its way up your leg to your hip.

You threw your coat on and hurried out the door, hopping into the backseat of the Impala. Sam glanced at you in the rearview mirror and raised his eyebrows appreciatively, but Dean didn't spare you a second glance. You were annoyed, since half the reason you were doing this was to prove him wrong, but there would be plenty of time to show off later.

As the Impala peeled out of the hotel parking lot, you took a deep swig from the flask you kept in your coat pocket. This better work.

Neither of the boys helped you out of the car when you arrived.

"Chivalry is dead," you announced after almost stumbling onto your face getting out. You tossed your coat back into the backseat, revealing your outfit to the two hunters.

Suddenly Sam was all-too-eager to offer you his arm, and the two of you headed inside, Dean close behind. You hadn't missed the way his eyes widened when you dropped your coat, so you swung your hips a little as you walked. That'll show him.

The plan worked better than you could have hoped. The sleazy old something-inaire led you to his office, hand wrapped around your waist as you clung to his arm, pretending to laugh at his stupid sexist old man jokes.

As he clicked the heavy oak door shut, you quickly scanned the room, trying to find the artifact you came for. There. On his desk. All you had to do was grab it, and-

The old man grabbed you by the hips, pulling you flush against his body. "Where were we, sweetheart?"

Insides roiling with disgust, you turned around and placed your hands on his chest, giving him the sweetest smile you could muster. "Right here," you said cattily, batting your eyelashes as you grabbed him by the lapels and led him backwards to the desk.

Here goes nothing, you thought, and pulled the old guy in for a kiss. Trying to ignore the way his tongue dug into your mouth, you felt around behind you for the artifact.

Got it. You quickly palmed the object and broke the kiss, looking up at the old man through your lashes. Now Sam or Dean was gonna bust down the door, claiming you as his missing drunk sister.

Aaaaany minute now.

The old man smiled wolfishly and you felt his hands creeping lower, lower, until he grabbed your ass firmly, jerking you closer to him and capturing your lips again.

Your heart hammered in your chest. This was not going how it was supposed to. You tried to wiggle away, but the guy was surprisingly strong for his age.

"Where you going, baby?" he asked, eyes glinting.

"I think I- I have to go," you said, aware that you were sounding a little panicked.

"You wanted this," he reminded you, giving your ass a tight squeeze. He swung you around and pushed you into the leather couch across from the desk. You tried to scramble up, but it was hard with your tight dress and the artifact still clutched in your hand, desperately being concealed, so the old man grabbed you easily by the hair, forcing you to stay down.

"Now why don't we put those pretty lips to use?"

The door swung open with a bang. The old man looked up, startled, releasing his death grip on your hair.

"There you are," came the fake-laughing voice of Dean.

"Who are you?" demanded the old man. "Get out of here!"

"Sorry man, this is my sister," Dean said, raising his hands apologetically. "She gets really hammered, acts like a slut. Gotta get her home." He helped you up, and you smiled and giggled, putting on the drunk-girl act.

Dean helped you hurry out of the room, the old man looking disappointed and angry at being cockblocked.

"Thanks," you whispered once you were down the hall and out of earshot. "What a creep."

"Please tell me you got it," Dean said darkly, weaving you through the crowd. You slipped the artifact into his suit pocket, giving it a pat for good measure.

"Didn't do that for nothing." You winked at him and pushed him away to walk the rest of the way to the car on your own two feet.

Dean stared after you, dumbfounded. He tried not to fixate on the way your hips swayed in that dress as you walked away proudly. God, that dress! It hugged your body perfectly, and Dean would be lying if he said he hadn't been eyeing you all night. His cock was semi-hard in his dress pants, an annoying reminder of just how much you'd proved him wrong.

"Come on, dickhead," you yelled out the back window of the Impala. Dean realized starkly that he had stopped in place thinking about your tits.

"Dammit," he muttered, hurrying around to the driver's seat.

The three of you piled into your hotel room to debrief from the mission. You assured the boys that you were alright from your creepy encounter with the old guy, and that stealing the artifact was worth it. The way Dean watched you raptly as you began to disrobe was not lost on you.

"I've dealt with worse in my time," you reminded them, shaking out your hair. "I'm a solo female hunter. Sleazy men hit on me literally wherever I go." You plopped down on the bed and pulled your stockings off one by one.

"As long as you're sure," Sam said, stretching and yawning. "I'm gonna head back over to our room to get some sleep. You coming, Dean?"

Dean snapped out of his fantasy. "Uh, no. I'll be there in a little bit. Gotta talk to her about something."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Okay. Just don't bite each other's head off." And with that, he was gone.

You watched Dean from the shadows of the half-lit room. When he made no move to say anything, you did. "What do you need to talk about?" you asked, knowing full well. "Gonna say sorry cuz of how wrong you were?"

Dean flicked his eyes up to yours. Where had he been looking before?

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yeah. You did good."

You stood and sauntered over to where he sat in a straight-backed chair by the dresser. "But that's not all, is it?" You smirked at him and looked him up and down, gaze lingering on his crotch, where a tent had begun to form.

Dean covered his bulge with his hand and pressed down, growling. "You were a little too good."

"So, what? You stayed because you want me to help with that?" you teased, coming closer.

"Yeah," Dean said roughly, standing quickly.

"No," you said bluntly, taking him by the shoulder and pushing him back into the chair.

Dean grimaced. "Why? Please," he begged, face twisted in arousal.

You giggled. "Wow."

"What?" Dean snapped, eyes cracking open.

"Nothing," you said, smirking. "You could beg a little more, might help." You felt your own arousal start to pool in your panties.

"Please, Y/N." Dean looked up at you with wild eyes, squeezing his cock through his pants.

"Please what?" You cocked your head.

"Please... make me cum," he said finally, eyes dropping to your midriff, unwilling to hold your gaze.

You tilted his chin up so he would look at you again, feeling a certain sense of satisfaction that you had somehow reduced him to this begging, horny mess in the chair before you.

"All you had to do was ask," you said softly. You backed away and sat down on the edge of the bed.

Dean started to get up and follow you.

"No," you said, holding up a red-manicured finger. "Sit back down." You pointed.

Dean frowned but did as he was told. You smiled, delighted.

"You're having way too much fun with this," he grumbled.

"I'm sorry what was that?" you asked with a stern expression. "Do you want to cum or not?"

Dean's dick twitched in his pants. The way you bossed him around was really turning him on. "Nothing."

"That's what I thought." You twirled your hair thoughtfully. Dean whined impatiently.

"Tsk, tsk." You crossed your legs at an angle where he could almost see through the slit into your crotch. "Take your cock out."

Dean was all too happy to oblige, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants faster than you could say desperate, hiking up his dress shirt in the process.

"Wait," you interrupted before he could go any further. "Why don't you unbutton your shirt, too. Wouldn't want to make a mess." You smirked.

"Okay," Dean agreed breathily, practically tearing the two sides of the shirt from each other, exposing his muscular torso. You had seen him shirtless before, but there was something about the way he was breathing, stomach rising and falling quickly as he panted, that turned you on when it wouldn't normally.

"Now you can take your dick out," you said. You held your breath a little as his cock came into view. He was fully hard now, and dripping. He squeezed the base, moaning.

"Now what?" he asked, eyes shut as he lightly stroked his cock with his fingertips.

"You need me to tell you how to jack off?" you asked meanly. To your surprise, Dean moaned loudly at that.

He began stroking his cock, slowly at first, building up speed as he could no longer contain himself. A near-constant string of quiet whimpers and moans fell from his lips. You took note of the way he swiped his thumb over his leaking slit, spreading it around to aid his fingers.

"Look at me," you instructed. You wanted to see that wild look in his eyes again, and were instantly rewarded as his eyes flew open to meet yours. His mouth fell open as he gasped when he saw you.

"Forget I was here?" you teased. Dean gulped and shook his head vehemently. His hand slowed, and he started tugging himself less frantically, holding eye contact with you intensely.

"Fuck," he whispered hoarsely. "You're so hot, wanna see you."

You smirked. "Only because you admitted it." You hiked up your skirt, spreading the slit open so he could see your black lace panties.

Dean devoured your skin with his eyes, rubbing the head of his cock in circles with his thumb.

You dropped the straps of your dress so that they hung loosely around your shoulders and ran your long nails across your collarbones, petting your shoulders. Then you took hold of the neckline and pulled it down, freeing your tits from the dress.

"Better than I imagined, baby," Dean groaned at the sight, as his hips bucked into his hand.

You took one of your breasts in your hand, squeezing it towards your chest. "You imagined?" you lilted, smiling.

"Been thinkin' about you all night," he admitted shamelessly. "How good your tits looked in that dress. How good- ngh- you looked walkin' away from me."

Your other hand started creeping into your skirt. "Thought I couldn't even seduce a virgin. What does that make you?"

Dean growled, jerking his cock faster. "I don't- fuck-"

"Maybe you're just a manwhore," you purred, hopping off the bed to approach him.

"Please," Dean gasped, tossing his head back. "I need you."

You scoffed. "I'm not that lacking in self-respect." You lightly scratched your fingernails down the side of his face. He leaned into your touch, groaning, hand stilling.

You leaned in to murmur in his ear. "No, you're gonna take care of this all... by... yourself." You laced your fingers into his short hair, scratching his scalp, and pulled his head back. He relaxed and his eyes fluttered closed at the feeling.

"So take care of it," you remind him harshly, giving his hair a hard tug before letting go. Dean raised his head hazily and began to stroke his dick again, gasping. It was angry red, practically begging for release, but Dean seemed determined to tease himself until he couldn't take it anymore, which you suspected would be soon.

You turned your back to him and unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor in a silken puddle. You heard Dean moan softly, sound of skin rubbing skin growing faster. You smiled to yourself as an idea occurred to you.

Against a backdrop of street lamplight coming through the window and lewd noises coming from Dean, you padded barefoot wearing only your underwear to the other side of the bed, where your pajamas lay folded neatly on the nightstand. You unfolded them and spread them out on the bed.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked hoarsely. "Don't- please stay- I need to see you," he whimpered finally.

You ignored him, as you had been planning to do, and put your pajamas on dramatically slowly to the soundtrack of Dean begging you to stop, stay naked, help him.

You turned back to him when you were finished and a rush of arousal hit you at the sight: Dean, cock in hand, sitting exactly where you had left him, sweaty and gasping and looking at you with a wild, desperate expression. You moaned softly in spite of yourself.

"Poor baby," you pout, rounding the bed to sit next to him again. "Haven't you come yet?"

Dean's hand was working overtime, forearm muscles flexing and rippling beneath his skin where his sleeve was rolled up.

"Can't," he breathed.

"You can't come?" You feigned surprise, even though you had known for several minutes that he was probably going to wait for your permission.

"Need you," Dean panted. "Can't do it- mm- without you."

"Sure you can," you said, running your nails down his chest. He shivered intensely.

Dean whimpered, face contorting in frustration. "I can't."

"What, I got you so turned on you can't even jack off without me?" you tease, fingertips stopping right above his happy trail.

"Please touch me."

"I am touching you," you reply smoothly, digging your fingers into his stomach.

Dean rolled his eyes, although you weren't sure if it was sass or pleasure. "Please," he insisted, whining.

"Useless." You replaced his hand with yours, gripping his cock tightly as you stroked it for him. "Can't even make yourself come without my help."

Dean went slack-jawed, head falling back once more. "Uh-huh," he moaned breathily. He ground his hips upwards, trying to find more pressure or friction or something but getting nothing but what you gave him.

"You're a useless whore, right?" you taunted. He would tell you if you went too far, right?

"Yes," Dean groaned loudly. You almost clapped your hand over his mouth, certain that Sam could hear through the walls.

"Shhh, be quiet baby," you said instead. You swiped your thumb over the head of his dick and he hissed, biting his lip. Your other hand went down to cup his balls, giving them a light squeeze.

Suddenly Dean's whole body tensed and his eyes flew open. "Shit- I'm so close, please," he panted. His abs flexed, indicating that he was telling the truth.

You increased the pressure on both hands slightly. "Go on then."

Dean let out a sound somewhere between a strangled gasp and a groan as he came, spurting over his stomach and your hands. You kept pumping, using his cum to aid your efforts, until he was begging you to stop between gasping breaths. Only then did you let go of him, admiring your handiwork.

One Dean Winchester (formerly unbelieving of your sexual prowess), spread over a chair, covered in cum, sweaty and panting and utterly fucked out.

"Thank you," he whispered weakly after a moment.

"Will you ever doubt me again?" you asked, smirking.

He rolled his head to the side to look at you. "No. Fuck, that was hot." Dean grinned. "Actually, I changed my mind. Maybe I should doubt you more often."

You rolled your eyes. "Whatever, Winchester. Clean up and go to bed."

Dean got out of the chair stiffly, winked at you, and went to do as he was told.

dividers by @cafekitsune and @saradika

[4unnyr0se]

Hi love your writing!! I havent touched HQ in 3 years but Im starting to love old characters I use to fall in love with like Asahi, Oikawa, Bokuto etc,,, so as my first req, could you pls write fem! Reader x Bokuto fluff in HS?

Like Bokuto trying to court the reader. How would that go? And how did he finally ask us out?

Feel free to ignore this if you dont like the idea! Ty for ur time 🤍❤️🤍

❥ young love at fukurodani | kotaro bokuto

warnings: none that i can think of. this is pure fluff

MDNI | No 18+ content, I just don't want minors interacting with my blog

word count -> 1.6k

okay so aaaa this didn't rlly follow the ask bc all he does is ask reader to tutor him and then cute stuff happens but i can make a hc of it probably tonight or tomorrow?? also i wrote this when i was having tummy issues so im very sorry if its horrible. i love u!

got a request? my asks are open!

Bokuto wasn’t one to get embarrassed that easily. Sure, he did embarrassing things but didn’t know they were embarrassing. They were part of his boyish charm, which people loved about him…right? Of course, they did. He was Kotaro Bokuto. He was Fukurodani’s ace, and the people loved him for it. So why, if he was so confident, did he get awkward and embarrassed around you, his pretty classmate?

Saying you were gorgeous was an understatement. He couldn’t find the right words to describe you to his friends, mainly Akaashi. “She’s just like, y’know? And I’m like, oh damn! She’s cute as fuck!” Boktuo would make various gestures with his hands as he and Akaashi sat on the steps leading to the gym, sipping cola from the vending machine. “What do I do, Akaashi? She’s so pretty, and I’m pretty too! The only problem is that everyone else in our year thinks so, too…do I even have a shot?”

Akaashi would offer him a pitiful smile, rubbing his back in assurance. “Well, isn’t she one of the smartest in our year?”

“Yeah, smart and pretty. She’s so fucking perfect, I wish you could see her.” he pouted.

“Well, the answer is simple,” Akaashi said, standing up and stretching his arms above his head. Ask her for help with homework; god knows you need it.”

“Hey! I got a 41 on my chemistry test!” Bokuto yelled at Akaashi as the setter entered the gym. But he did have a point, like always. Bokuto decided then and there that he would ask you to tutor him tomorrow, no matter how anxious he was. Anxiety was for suckers anyway.

“Hey, wait up!” Bokuto ran after you as you exited your classroom, papers flying out of his messy bookbag that was riddled with stains from only God knows what. “I gotta ask you a question!”

You stopped walking and turned your heel, raising an eyebrow as the Fukurodani captain barreled towards you. “Hey, what’s up, Bokuto? How’s volleyball going? Are we headed to nationals?” you asked, placing a hand on your hip. God, even the way you held yourself was perfect. Were you an actual goddess, or was Bokuto just lovestruck?

Bokuto finally caught up to you, leaning against the hallway walls in an attempt to appear suave and put-together. His messy uniform didn’t help his cause, but he forgot to look neat today. And every day after that. “Uh, I was wondering if you understood what we were assigned in English yesterday? I don’t understand any of it to save my skin, hah,” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at his shoes. “Did you get what our teacher was saying?”

“Yeah, it was really simple. Just basic grammar and syntax structures. Was it complicated for you?” you tilted your head to the side.

“I don’t really get it. Wanna tutor me at my house today? I can get you snacks!” he offered you a crooked smile, leaning forward so his golden eyes peered into yours. “C’mon, please? The coach will kick my ass if I don’t get my grades up, and I have a game next week! Pretty please?” he folded his hands in prayer, his bottom lip in a childish pout.

You smiled and nodded, grabbing him off the wall. Bokuto blushed at the sudden contact, noticing how neat you kept your fingernails compared to his own. Yours were neatly polished to perfection while he bit his nails almost constantly, and being a wing spiker didn’t come with having good-looking nails. 

“Where’s your house? Is it walking distance?” you let go of his hand, much to Bokuto’s dismay. 

“Yeah, it’s about five minutes from here. Wanna stop at a convenience store on the way? I’m really hungry.” he rubbed his stomach as you two walked out the nearest exit, your messenger bag dangling over your shoulder. 

“Only if you’re paying,” you joked, rubbing his shoulder. Bokuto could have sworn his heart stopped right then and there. Were you actually flirting with him, or were you just really touchy? Either way, it was a win in his book. 

“Sure, I don’t mind. Anything for a pretty girl like yo-” Bokuto stopped his sentence, smacking his hand over his mouth. “I-I mean, why wouldn’t I mind? I’m a captain, after all. It’s my job to provide for my teammates!”

“But I’m not on any sports teams. I’m not your teammate.” you deadpanned, 

“You know what I mean!” Bokuto whined, wiping his forehead of the sweat that was slowly starting to gather. “Damn, it’s a hot one today. Why won’t they let the guys wear shorts? Do they want us to die of heat stroke or something?”

“I honestly have no idea,” you sighed, walking under the shade of the convenience store roof. “Wait a minute,” you instructed, placing your messenger bag on the hot pavement. You shrugged off your school blazer and wrapped it around your waist tightly in an attempt to cool you off. You also rolled up the sleeves of your white blouse, loosening your collar. “Sorry, I’m just really warm. At least we get to wear skirts, right?” you offered him a lopsided smile.

Bokuto’s heart pounded in his chest. “Uh, yeah, you girls are so lucky. Wearing skirts must feel awesome.”

“It’s awesome until you catch someone trying to look it up,” you mumbled in annoyance, hoisting your bag over your shoulders. 

“What the actual fuck? Who was it? I’ll murder them! I'll text Konoha too; he’ll definitely want in on it,” Bokuto clenched his fists together, walking into the store with you. “I’m sorry that happened to you, honestly.

You shrugged your shoulder and rummaged through the ice cream pin, choosing a passionfruit-flavored ice bar. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I barely know you, anyways.”

“That doesn’t mean that I can’t protect you from jerks like that guy,” Bokuto angrily shoved his hands in his pockets, tapping his foot on the tile. He fished about 400 yen out of his pocket and handed it to the cashier, ushering you out of the shop as quickly as possible. 

“What was that for?” you asked, unwrapping the popsicle. 

“I didn’t like how he looked at you, that’s all.” Bokuto huffed. He made grabby motions for your bookbag, which you handed to him with a confused look on your features. “Let me carry that, please. You’re too pretty to carry heavy stuff around like that all day.”

You paused your walk and stared at Bokuto, blushing softly. “You think I’m pretty?” 

Bokuto slowly nodded and gave you a crooked smile, blushing in turn. “Yeah, I really do. I was afraid to tell you before, but now I’m all fired up. I wanna protect you from creeps, y’know?”

You popped the ice treat out of your mouth and stepped forward, smiling softly. “We barely know each other, and you want to keep me safe? We haven’t even hung out once.”

“We’re heading to my house right now, aren’t we?” Bokuto shrugged, his blush not fading. 

You chuckled and took another step forward, the tips of your noses brushing against each other. “Yeah, I guess we are,” you whispered, your lips dangerously close to his own. “You know, I always thought you were kind of cute. In the athletic kind of way, I suppose.”

Bokuto dropped the bags he held onto the hot concrete beneath you, praying they wouldn’t roll down the hill you were standing on. You two were in a remote location, and the tension was thick. “You think I’m cute?” he tilted his head to the side, his eyelids dropping halfway. 

“Mhm,” you purred, your popsicle dripping from the intense heat. “Super cute.”

“Fuck,” Bokuto’s hands hovered above your waist, unsure of what you wanted him to do. “Uh, is it okay if I kiss you? Please, cutie?” he quietly pleaded, your lips basically touching at this point. 

You smiled and nodded, holding your melting popsicle behind your back. “Mhm, it’s okay.”

Bokuto smiled as his lips interlocked with yours for a minute, savoring the sweet passionfruit flavor that coated them. His hands squeezed your waist childishly, never wanting this moment between the two of you to end. This kiss was exactly how he dreamed it would be, soft and perfect. Just like you.

You pulled away after a bit and giggled, your popsicle having since fallen onto the heated pavement. Your sticky hands cupped his face, the pads of your thumbs running over his defined cheekbones. “You’re a good kisser,” you pecked his forehead bravely. “Like, a really good kisser.”

“Same to you, cutie,” his hands left your waist, choosing to instead secure your wrists. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that. So. Fucking. Long.”

 A chuckle escaped your lips as your hands fell to your waist again, intertwining your fingers with Bokuto’s. You had never notified it before, but he was much bigger than you. It made you feel safe and secure. Protected. “We should probably get to your house to study, shouldn’t we?” 

“Aw, I was having so much fun kissing you on the sidewalk!” Bokuto pretended to whine, kicking a loose pebble that was in his way. He easily picked up the bags with his spare hand and tossed them over his broad shoulder. 

“Tell you what,” you squeezed his hand. “For every question you get right, I’ll give you a kiss. Does that sound like a fair deal?”

“Hell yeah, it does!” Bokuto kissed you on the cheek in excitement. He practically skipped to his house with you in tow, excited for what the rest of the day would have in store.

[emmyrosee]

Ushijima does nothing halfway. Especially when it comes to his daughter.

It’s very adorable to see, there’s nothing quite like her asking him for anything and everything, and him doing it.

For her third birthday, she wanted a pony. When he couldn’t find one, he and Romero dressed up in a pony costume.

When she asks for candy, he gets her two of whatever she likes- one when she eats all her dinner, and one because ‘mommy doesn’t need to know.’

When she comes barreling into your bedroom while you two snuggle, wailing and desperately trying to dry her eyes while you both scramble from the bed to calm her down. He’s quick to reach for the baseball bat next to his bed to ward off any “monsters.”

“What’s wrong, baby?” You soothe, opening your arms for her to leap into. She does, and you hoist her up and onto your hip, her face burying into your neck.

“Jock’s gone!” She sobs, and immediately, you and Wakatoshi tense up.

Jacques, the handmade giraffe Uncle Satori had sent all the way from Paris for Reina’s second birthday had immediately made its presence known in everyday life. Everywhere Reina went, Jacques was close behind or enclosed in her tiny hand: play dates, dinners out or at the table, sitting on the toilet at bath time…

In her arms every time she was going to sleep.

“Oh sweetheart,” you croon. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

“I…I…” she lets out a sniffle and wipes her nose with the back of her hand. “I forgot to…”

“We’ll find him,” Wakatoshi assures, and Reina’s eyes light up at her favorite hero.

You gnaw at your lip before looking at the time, “baby, don’t you think we should maybe just try tomorrow?”

“She needs it tonight,” he says simply, planting a kiss to your head before stalking out of the room. “He’s got to be in the house somewhere. Probably just playing hide and seek.”

What a damned game he was playing.

Surely enough, everywhere Jacques would be, or was suspected to be was exactly where he wasn’t; he wasn’t in the bathroom, or in the chair next to hers at the dinner table. He wasn’t in the playroom, nor under her bed, everywhere that Jacques could be, he certainly was not.

“Doya think he ran ‘way, daddy?” Reina wails, fingers clasping onto your pajama pants. A soothing hand cards through her locks, and despite Wakatoshi having the patience of a Saint, you could see it in his eyes it was slowly slipping away.

“It would make more sense than him just not being here,” he mumbles, and you offer him a sympathetic look for his efforts. “Okay, Reina,” he sighs, crouching down to be eye level with her; exhaustion paints his face and his hair sticks up wildly with his anxious carding, “when was the last time you had Jacques?”

She sniffles and wipes her nose on your sweat pants, “I told him to stay and watch the washin’ machine, ‘n come get mommy when it was done, and he never did!”

Wakatoshi blanches and his jaw slacks. You cover your mouth to hide the laughter that desperately wants to bubble out. Reina’s bottom lip wobbles as she unknowingly just took three years off of her fathers life.

“…the last time you had him was in the laundry room?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So… he’s in the laundry room?”

She nods again. Big brown eyes flick up to you, and he sinks his teeth into his lip to stop himself from laughing in a similar vain as you. “Okay,” he says, standing up and scrubbing his face with his large hands. “In hindsight, that should’ve been my first question.”

“Huh?” Reina asks, eyes flying up to you when you finally let a few cackles out, watching as your mammoth of a husband shuffles down the hallway to the laundry room. The light flicks on, then off, and when he emerges, there’s Jacques, dangling from his beefy hand.

“Found him,” he says blankly. Reina gasps and quickly runs over to her father, eagerly clutching the giraffe to her chest.

“You didn’t run ‘way!” She squeals, rocking the plush back and forth before planting a kiss to its head, chirping a sweet little “thank you, daddy!” before shuffling back off to bed, like the last three hours of struggle didn’t just happen.

Wakatoshi looks at you with exhausted eyes, but the minute they lock with yours, he’s unable to fight the wide smile that starts to spread over his face, causing the both of you to break out in loud laughter and snickers. You quickly make your way back into his arms, your head thunking against his chest while it rumbles with his laughter.

“I cannot believe that little snot just outplayed us so hard.”

“You’d think this is our first day,” you snort. Your head turns up to look at him, and you give him a kiss on the base of his jaw as a reward. “You’re so good to her.”

“I almost have to be,” he sighs sleepily. His olive eyes glaze over your face, “there is no way you’d be able to handle her antics on your own.”

“Hey. Just because she likes you more than me does not mean I can’t handle her on my own.”

He offers you a small snort and reaches up to gently stroke the corners of your smiling eyes, “I do suppose so; her ability to give me grey hairs certainly does come from you.”

“Exactly,” you chuckle. Lovingly, despite his slander, you nose at his jawline for him to lean down for a kiss which he happily complies in, his hands gentle on your cheek in the middle of the hallway. You giggle against his lips and nuzzle your nose against his, “I want another one…”

“A kiss?”

“No, a baby.”

Immediately he pulls back, face dropped in a deadpanned expression to contrast your excited one. “Clearly we need to get you to sleep, you’re talking nonsense.”

“Toshi!”

“Come on,” he grunts, hoisting you up and over his shoulder, ignoring your laughter and the banging of your fists against his back. “Bed time. Before the both of you give me an aneurysm.”

[beemochi-art]

PAX AND ARIEL! Simpler times, Happier times. Back when everything thing made sense and nothing mattered but each other.

Orion comes from a higher background. Thanks to alpha trion, Orion was able to become an archivist and get proper medical treatment for his condition, he loves learning all he can about everything but history is what he likes most.

While training for his position as an archivist apprentice. He noticed a cleaner in the halls. She was out of place for the job she was taking on. A pretty femma hauling big ass loads of trash out of the building and then coming back for more, getting her beautiful plating dirty and not giving a shit about it. She was super strong too. He was enamored. Orion was also curious how she has such a difficult and dirty job when she could easily be doing something else, She was beautiful. Plenty of companies were looking for secretaries. When she had a break He gained the confidence to talk to her.

On Ariel’s side he walked up and she was instantly attracted. They got to talking and she simply answered Orion’s question with “I have my reasons.” She brushed over the subject and asked him out on a date. Orion was dumbfounded but ultimately ecstatic.

Things moved pretty fast. (They Rizzed each other) They were both incredibly comfortable in each other’s presence and pretty much spent most of their free time hanging out, cuddling, flirting, doing things in places they shouldn’t. Orion tried to hide his condition from her the best he could in the beginning but ultimately just caused more harm to himself. He thought she would leave if she found out because it’s a rare condition but a debilitating one. They exact opposite happened Ariel would educate herself about his condition to try and help him best she could, caring around extra inhalers and doing venting exercises. Orion’s condition would never go away but her being there and making sure he was taking care of himself made him need his inhaler less than he usual did.

Ariel is a lower class mecha. Most of her past and information is either unknown or she’s unwilling to share. Orion never pushed her. She’s a bit of a troublemaker and seems to go wherever she wants too (rule breaking is new to Orion). Ariel’s job is shitty, the mechs she works with are bottom of the barrel scum and don’t like Orion. But she refuses to quit for whatever reasons. But it has short hours so she has more time to hang around Orion. She sometimes is self deprecating and tells Orion he could do better, and that she would only cause problems for him. He doesn’t care tho and would do anything to convince her he’s not going anywhere.

After dating for like a year or two, they agreed when Ariel had all her ducks in a row, they would conjunx. Orion wouldn’t mind conjunxing her that day but it was her decision.

That however that didn’t work out.

[moonsgemini]

dress - rafe cameron

summary: she’ll always wish she could enjoy the midsummer’s celebrations instead of working at it, but her secret moments with the kook prince make the bad tips worth it

warnings: rafe x pogue!reader, typical classist stuff but not from rafe, fluff, angst, mutual pining, alcohol, kissing

wc: 3.5k

an: this is based off of dress by taylor swift but my own interpretation of it I guess. If you guys want a pt. 2 with smut let me knoooow, I’m such a s!ut for rafe cameron pleaaaase

our secret moments in a crowded room, they got no idea about me and you

Midsummer was probably her least favorite day of summer. You’d think that being a bartender on the day that the whole figure eight came to the country club would bring in lots of tips right? Well wrong. During midsummer’s the drinks were complimentary and there was just a tip jar for cash tips. Kooks don’t usually carry around cash, or really tip for that matter. Also seeing all the kooks dressed in their pretty dresses and cute flower crowns made y/n go green with jealousy. She desperately wished she could attend as a guest and get to dress up and enjoy the food. Y/n would be dreading this shift if she didn’t have something to look forward to.

She had looked over herself in the mirror a million times, making sure her dress still looked as good on her as it did in the dressing room mirror yesterday. The tag was securely tucked into her side because she may have run up her credit card to be able to afford it so she had to return it after. Bartenders didn’t have as strict as a uniform as the waiters did. Her manager allowing them to wear black dresses for the night, and of course she was going to jump at the opportunity to wear something nicer than her boxy polo uniform and tennis skirt.

Her makeup and hair had been done to the best of her ability, without it seeming like she was trying too hard. Y/n would never admit to any of her friends or family that she was dressed up in order to impress a certain kook prince. The same kook prince she had spent months crushing on, and he never helped make the crush go away because he would shamelessly flirt with her every time he was at the country club. It was more like banter, she had a feeling he never really meant anything he said. But it felt so good to feel wanted.

When Rafe would see her around the outer banks he would smirk at her or give her a nod as to say hi. At parties sometimes he’d go up to her and make some small conversation. Teasing her about what drink she had or making sure that she didn’t give her number to that guy that was flirting with her. They’d be making conversation and she would take a step towards him wanting nothing more than to be wrapped in his arms and his scent. But then her friends would come and think they were saving her from the kook prince and pull her away, sending a glare Rafe’s way. She’s look back at him apologetically and he’d just give her a tight lipped smile and walk to the other side of the party.

Rafe really liked her, he liked making her laugh and smile. He wished he could make her quit her job and just come live with him, he’d take care of her. She’d never have to worry about bills or rent ever again. His friends always made fun of him for flirting with a pogue but he didn’t care. They’d say he was scraping the bottom of the barrel, that he had already gone through all the girls from figure eight so now he was entertaining a pogue. Rafe never let them get away with their jokes. He’d glare at them and punch them in the arm or kick them in the shin. He’d defend her honor saying she’s different and she’s a better friend than they’ll ever be.

All Rafe could do was think about her while he was getting ready. He knew she’d be there and he wanted to look extra nice. Tonight felt like the night he would actually ask her out. Y/n was a good listener, she was always there for him. At first he thought it was just because she was stuck behind the bar so she had to listen to him, but then he’d see her at parties and she still had that look in her eyes. That look that she was listening to him, actually listening to him. He felt like he was on a cloud with the way she looked at him like he was the most important thing in the world.

When she arrived to the country club she started getting all her things ready, the guests would start arriving in a few minutes. Stocking up on scotch and the best wines, she knew those would be the popular drinks tonight. As she worked diligently her mind wandered to Rafe, like it always did.

She wondered if he’d be the same as always despite his family being here. She wanted nothing more than to spend the night with him, but not while she served him drinks. She wanted to dance with him and drink with him, and then go home together at the end of the night.

Guests had started arriving, her eyes looking out for the dirty blonde. She was so excited and a bit anxious to see him all dressed up, knowing he’d look extra handsome. An hour had passed and she still hadn’t seen him. The country club was now filled with kooks and her tip jar only filled with about $20 when she’s certain she’s made twenty martinis and poured just as many scotch’s.

As she was handing Mrs.Weatherby her glass of merlot smiling at the older woman her eyes caught her favorite blue ones. Rafe stood across the room with Kelce and Topper. He wasn’t paying any attention to what Topper was saying as he watching y/n from across the room. When their eyes met a lopsided smile formed on his lips. Her cheeks felt hot as he looked her up and down, as much as he could despite the bar being in the way.

Y/n begged with her eyes for him to come over, to save her from the boring night. He knew her better than she thought as he started walking over, saying something to the guys that he’d be back. But as he was crossing the room his dad stepped in front of him.

Ward put a hand on his son’s shoulder, “Rafe please, don’t start drinking yet. This is supposed to be a nice night okay? Lets take it slow.” He turned him around to walk out toward the patio.

“Yeah sure dad.” He muttered not wanting to make a scene. He followed him out but looked behind him to catch the eyes of the girl he was infatuated with.

His heart sank a little as he saw her bright eyes dull a little with sadness. She tried her best to put on a smile and not show her disappointment but he knew her better than she thought. Ward had no idea of Rafe’s crush and even if he did he probably wouldn’t care. He’d probably be disappointed in his son for liking someone like her, then he’d tell him that she probably only wants him for his trust.

all of this silence & patience, pining & anticipating, my hands are shaking from holding back from you

The first few hours of the night their eyes just met, hers pleading him to come over and talk to her. Give her something to think about tonight before she went to bed. His eyes begged her to forgive him for not giving her the attention she deserved, especially in that dress. He hoped that she wore it just for him, it made her look ethereal. Rafe’s legs ached from trying to stop himself from walking over and kissing her with everything he had.

As the night went on she was always on his mind. He hated this stupid midsummer’s stuff, mostly because he couldn’t share it with the one person he wanted. It was filled with snobby people and teenager’s getting drunk on booze they had snuck in.

Rafe kept getting stuck in conversations with his dad’s colleagues, Ward wanting him to be more involved in the business. Or he’d be with Topper, Kelce, and some other guys having a meaningless conversation about lacrosse or surfing. Whenever he got the chance he’d look over at her and she’d have a smile on her face handing some old dude a drink. He knew it wasn’t her real smile, then her eyes would look over at him and that’s when her real smile would come out.

“Uh I’m gonna get a drink,” Rafe said trying to excuse himself from his friends. His dad would be fine with him having a drink now, it’s been three hours since the night started. Three hours of his fingers tingling with the want of tucking that hair that kept falling in her face behind her ear.

“I’ll go with you dude. I need a refill,” Topper said holding up his empty glass. Rafe held in the urge to roll his eyes, he wanted to go alone.

y/n was wiping down the bar when they approached. She looked up meeting eyes with her favorite boy, but then she looked over to his left and their Topper was

“What can I get you guys?” She asked looking between them, smiling at Rafe.

“Long island,” Topper said placing his empty glass down.

“Can I get a rum and coke please?” Rafe asked, resting his hands on the bar.

“Of course,” she nodded with a grin.

Rafe watched her as she prepared the drinks. Topper was trying to talk to him about who knows what, he couldn’t care less. He couldn’t pay attention even if he wanted to with that dress she had on. It fit her so perfectly, he wondered what it’d feel like under his hands. What it’d feel like to push it up as he touched the expanse of her thighs. Wondered what it’d feel like to hold her waist as he kissed her. If her skin was as soft as it looked.

“Bro you’re not even listening,” Topped said as he hit Rafe’s shoulder.

“Long island,” Y/n places the drink in front of him.

“You’re right I’m not.” Rafe rolled his eyes.

Topper took his drink without even thanking her, “Whatever dude I’m gonna find Sarah.” Finally Rafe was alone with his girl.

She placed his glass in front of him, “So where have you been all night?”

“Uh my dad didn’t want me to drink earlier,” He shrugged. He knew it was a half assed excuse.

“You don’t need to order a drink to come see me.”

He ran a hand through his hair, “I-I know but my dad thought that I was just coming over for a drink.”

She laughed bitterly not at Rafe but at the whole situation, “When I’m with you I forget I’m a uh pogue.”

“That doesn’t mean anything to me,” He reached out to touch her lightly. She leaned into his touch slightly, yearning to feel anything from him.

Her manager walked in, “Y/n, take your fifteen.” Taking over he place behind the bar, Rafe pulled his hand away from her.

“Uh yeah,” She gave him a tight lipped smile before walking to the back room. Rafe sighed and walked back out to where his friends were.

if I get burned at least we were electrified, I’m spilling wine in the bath tub you kiss my face & we’re both drunk

Y/n stood in the back leaning against the wall. She hated this town. She hated the labels everyone put on each other, it made her life so much harder. It was so easy when she was around Rafe even if it was a few minutes at a time. But then there was always something that reminded her of who she was and where she came from. It was either Ward, her friends, Rafe’s friends, her bosses. Someone always had to remind her where she was and who she was.

She rolled her eyes at herself. She walked into the back, in search of a bottle of wine. She found one she thought she’d like, popping it open and pouring herself a glass. Y/n felt like she deserved it, especially after tonight. The night wasn’t going exactly as planned, so she might as well drink.

After three full glasses of red wine her break was over. It probably wasn’t the smartest idea to drink while on the clock because now everything looked a little fuzzy.

“I’m back,” She slurred to her manager.

Lisa eyed her suspiciously, “Are you drunk?”

“No never,” She gave her a toothy grin trying to hide her tipsiness. The alcohol affecting her more and more as the seconds passed.

Lisa sighed, “Y/n you can’t be like this here right now. You know how bad this would look. If you get one of these jerk offs orders wrong and they smell that merlot on your breath they’ll have you banned.” Lisa tried her best to look out for the girl because she knew she didn’t have anyone that was looking out for her.

Her eyes watered at the thought of losing the only job she had been able to get on this whole island, “I-I can’t lose this job. I need this.”

Lisa sighed, “Go home. I’ll cover for you, and you can still keep the tips okay? Only because I care about you.”

Y/n sniffled bringing the older woman into a hug, “Thank you Lisa, I owe you.”

“Get home safe okay, call someone.” Lisa said rubbing her back. She walked (stumbled a bit) to the back to grab her bag.

even in my worst times you could see the best of me

Y/n didn’t know who to call, her friends were all at parties probably drinking as well. Her parents weren’t in her life. The one person who could help her had been watching her from across the room. Concern written all over his face. She looked at him with teary eyes and he was already taking long strides towards her. She met him halfway, the tag from her dress itching her side.

“Rafe,” Her voice was shaky as she hugged herself looking for some comfort. She knew this was all her fault, she shouldn’t have had that wine. She felt like she was always making mistakes like this.

Rafe’s hands held her face, “What happened? Did someone do something?” He asked with worry and a bit of anger. If one of these kooks made his girl cry they’d have him to deal with.

“No no I did something. I-I drank some wine on my break. I’m drunk Rafe and Lisa told me to go home. She um she said she’ll let me keep the tips today but uh can you take me h-home?” She asked barely taking a breath.

He brushed her hair back, “Hey breathe, I’ll take you home okay baby.”

“I’m sorry Rafe, I-I shouldn’t take you away. I feel so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid. I’m glad I get to get away from this shit, especially if it’s with you.”

Ward had been watching the interaction from outside. He eyed as his son held the bar tender who he felt was trying to hard to look like she fit in with them, her dirty sneakers gave her away. In her defense you can’t really bartend in heels.

He walked over to them before they could leave, “Uh Rafe, what are you doing?” He didn’t spare a glance at the disheveled girl.

Rafe stood up straight, “I’m taking her home dad.”

“Who is this? The bartender? You can’t leave now. There’s still some guys I need to introduce you to.” He treated her like she was nothing.

“No dad I’m taking her home, this is more important.” Rafe wrapped his arm around her shoulders to lead her towards the exit.

Ward grabbed his arm as he tried to walk past him, “Don’t disappoint me son.”

He shrugged his shoulder to get him off, “You’ve made it clear plenty of times that it’s too late for that.”

They didn’t make a big scene but some people had been watching. They watched as the oldest Cameron led the girl outside, a pogue. Tomorrow word would spread all across the island just how cozy they were. Ward would berate Rafe about it but right now he didn’t care, he just wanted to get his girl away from everyone.

Y/n couldn’t believe Rafe had done that for her. He dropped everything for her, she really did feel like he was a prince.

only bought this dress so you could take it off

Rafe kept glancing over at her as he drove to her house. He was worried about her, she looked so sad and he hated seeing her sad. Her head was leaning agains the passenger window just looking out into the darkness.

“Sweetheart what’s wrong?” He finally asked breaking the silence.

She sighed looking over at him, “I feel like an idiot.”

“Why?”

“I put on this stupid dress that I can’t even afford and I got too drunk while I was working. I took you away from the party.” She shook her head at herself.

Rafe pulled into the driveway of her small house, her grandma had left it for her after she passed a few years ago. It was the perfect house for her but now she had to work overtime to keep up with bills.

“Lets talk once we get inside,” Rafe turned the car off and ran over to open her door.

They walked into her house, Rafe had never been there. This is the most time they’ve ever been able to spend alone, without anyone being able to interrupt them or pull them away from each other. He liked her house, it was very her. Warm lighting and pictures everywhere. She sat on the couch setting her bag onto the ground.

“You look amazing, this dress looks amazing on you.” He said as he sat next to her. She leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder.

“I wore this for you. I wanted to impress you, instead I embarrassed myself.” She closed her eyes thinking about the events of the night.

Rafe turned to her, “I would drop everything for you. I have been dying inside to spend this night with you.”

“Really?” She asked looking at him with stars in her eyes.

“Yes, baby. And this dress does look amazing on you. You look perfect. I’ve wanted you since the first day we met at the club.” He tucked her hair behind her ear.

Her face flushed at the compliments, “But why? I’m just me. I don’t have anything, I can’t even afford this dress. I’m just a bartender.”

He shook his head, “None of that shit matters to me. You actually listen to me and you care about me more than my shithead friends ever have. I only go to those stupid parties to see you.”

“Rafe, I care about you so much.”

He couldn’t take it anymore, he leaned forward and captured her lips with his. They were slightly swollen from the few tears she had shed earlier in the night. Her lips tasted like merlot she had downed. They moved in sync as if they had been doing this forever. He smelt like expensive cologne and she wanted to drown in it, she wanted to drown in him. His lips felt so good against hers, she had been dreaming about this moment for ages.

Her hands slid up his chest and into his hair. Pulling at the dirty blonde locks to encourage him. Rafe’s hands slid up and down her waist. Finally feeling the dress he had thought about all night. As the kiss grew more passionate he grabbed her hips and tugged her towards him. He pulled her to sit on his lap, her legs on either side of him. His fingers slowly slid up her thighs pushing her dress farther up, almost fully around her hips. Y/n’s thighs were just as soft as he imagined. His mind was racing with thoughts of everything he wanted to do to her.

The small whines that left her lips encouraged him to keep going. One hand moving behind her to give her ass a squeeze. He pulled away to press kisses against her neck making goosebumps rise on her skin. Her hands moving back and forth from tugging his hair to pulling at his blazer to get him impossibly closer.

“Baby,” He mumbled against her neck. She just hummed in return, too lost in the feeling of his lips on her. Tasting her like she’s always wanted him to.

“I want to keep going, but I know you’ve drank tonight. I want you to be be a hundred percent sober when I do everything I’ve always dreamed about doing to you,” He said looking up at her. He almost regretted his words and took her right then and there when he saw her swollen lips and hazy lust filled eyes.

She took a deep breath to get herself to focus. Her senses were overloaded on Rafe, “Okay, can you stay? Please?”

He leaned forward giving her another kiss, “Of course, I’ll always stay.”

[raygunny]

Tav's Name

Word count: 661

The party finds out that 'Tav' is actually just a nickname. She refuses to tell them what it's short for, which is very unlike her. Cue the burning curiosity from the whole camp. Everyone approaches her in their own way.

Karloch tries the direct approach - essentially bugging Tav throughout the day. 'Just checking if you want to tell me now', she says with a grin each time. Reassuring Tav that if it's embarrassing, she'll try her best not to laugh. It's all in good fun though, no real pressure. She just likes teasing Tav about it at this point.

Wyll keeps throwing out names like she's Rumpelstiltskin. He starts out strong with 'Octavia', but towards the end of the day he's really scraping the bottom of the barrel. Tav's not sure why he's even trying this strategy - she already told him she wouldn't confirm or deny his guesses. She suspects that he and Gale made some sort of bet to see who can figure it out first. He finally gives up when he wholeheartedly guesses, 'Tavern?'

Speaking of Gale, he keeps trying to casually bring it up in conversation. 'You know, I was reading a fascinating book the other day about the power of names. I'd be remiss if I didn't offer to look yours up - if you wanted to of course. Our little secret', he says with a wink. He's so bad at being casual. She just shakes her head at each worsening attempt, it almost makes her want to tell him out of pity. Or to get him to stop pestering her, she's not quite sure.

Astarion thinks to himself, how could I have missed this? - followed up by - and why won't she tell us? Between the two of them, he's the one that's usually keeping secrets - not the other way around. How very intriguing. He tries to charm it out of her, 'I just want to know what name to call out next time we have a little midnight rendezvous', he says with that charming smirk on his face. When she dodges all his tricks and refuses to budge, that's...irritating to say the least. He can't stop thinking about her though, well her name that is. Ahem.

Shadowheart is not really all that interested in trying to coax out Tav's secrets. As a follower of Shar, she respects the secrets of others. And if Tav isn't telling them, then it must be for a reason. That still doesn't stop her from at least trying. 'I would share one of my secrets if you share yours', she says late at night when it's just the two of them by the fire. It's unlike her, but she's grown very fond of Tav. She can spare one small secret, she tells herself.

Lae'zel really couldn't care less about what Tav's full name is. Nickname or not - the only important thing is that Tav responds when Lae'zel yells her name out in battle. After watching the group pester her all day, she doesn't even ask. Though, that doesn't mean she hasn't been keeping an ear out when the others have made their attempts.

Halsin, the respectful yet smooth guy he is, tells her with a soft smile, 'While I am quite curious and would love to hear what I'm sure is a very lovely name, I am perfectly content with whatever you feel comfortable sharing with me. Tav suits you well after all'. That almost gets it out of her, but she stays resolute. She can't give in so easily. Perhaps another night, she thinks.

There are no dark secrets or skeletons in the closet for Tav, but it does turn out Wyll was right - her first name is actually Tavern. She's always found it a little embarrassing, but it's not her fault that she was born in one and her folks just ran with it. She'll hold onto this secret till a day where she knows they all need a morale boost. She's sure she'll never hear the end of it.

[frantic-fiction]

Reunions

(Pic: lovelybluebirdie) I cropped it a bit

Astarion x gn!reader, Astarion x reincarnated!Tav

Summary: A few months after reconnecting to your past life as Tav, a party is set to meet the rest of the group. You're nervous, worried about not living up to who you once were. Will you be enough?

This is a little part 2 of I'll Find My Way Back to You

Notes/ Warning: Pretty much just fluff. Reader is insecure. Astarion is a supportive partner. I kept all 6 origin characters alive because it's my story and I don't want to imagine any of them dead. Also, Halsin's here cause druids live to be like a thousand or whatever.

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist

You're not panicking. Why would you be? It's not like you're meeting a group of people you've only met in dreams—a group of strangers you've painted for the better part of your existence- a family forged through hardship from a past life you're still trying to remember fully.

No, you're not panicking. You're not scared that the people who are so excited to see you will not like what they see. You're not terrified the family Astarion has helped you remember will look at you disappointed once they realize you are no longer the Tav they once knew. You're not worried at all. Not. One. Bit.

You spent the afternoon cleaning the house from top to bottom. It was sparkling, and your fingers ached from the hours of scrubbing you filled in the restless day with. No surface was left untouched. Bookshelves were dusted, baseboards were spotless, and even the top of the cupboards, where no one would ever see, were wiped down. The floors were swept and mopped three times now, but you keep finding spots you missed. Astarion even physically stopped you from scaling the roof to clean the chimney when you ran out of things to occupy yourself with.

There's a roast in the oven, potatoes, and veggies cooking alongside it, and a pie cooling on the counter. You wanted to cook more, but you were worried that not everyone would like blueberries or that someone had turned to a plant-based diet. Astarion quickly reminded you that they used to eat food out of dusty barrels and mildewed chests.

Currently, you stand in front of your floor-length mirror. Astarion is out on a quick hunt before the party arrives, leaving you to obsess over your thoughts of inadequacy. The majority of your closet littered the floor. You're scrutinizing a simple tunic and legging combo. Was it too simple? Should you wear something more eye-catching?

You're trying to remember what Tav would have worn. All you can recall is blood-stained armor and simple camp clothes. But this occasion garners something more. Fuck. Stripping off the current outfit, you replace it with an almost identical one and look at yourself in the mirror again. You weren't sure what you expected, maybe to magically love this pair of pants and old tunic. But in reality, you were just as frustrated and worried.

The clothes weren't the problem, you knew that, but it was easier to be pissed at a blouse than to accept that you were scared. You were frightened to face Astarion and Tav's friends. You have Tav's memories and feel an odd kinship with these people. But you weren't Tav, and you would never be them, at least not entirely.

You felt like an imposter to try and convince anyone otherwise. Tears of frustration and disappointment in yourself began to trail down your cheeks. How could a silly artist hold a candle to the kind and heroic savior of Baldur's Gate? You glared at yourself, wishing things could have been different.

You jump when you feel cold arms wrap around your torso and a warm kiss at the nape of your neck. Astarion loved to use his lack of reflection to sneak up on you. You, on the other hand, hated it. Still, you found yourself leaning back into his firm chest.

"Hello, my love,"

You try to stop the pathetic sniffle, but it's useless. Astarion turns you in his arms and cups your jaw. "Darling," is all he says because he knows. Of course, he knows.

That simple pet name causes the floodgates to open, and you crumple into Astarion's chest, nuzzling his neck. He tightens his arms around you, pulling you closer to his body. Astarion lets you cry, knowing how nervous you've been for this meetup.

He rubs soft circles on the small of your back and peppers kisses to the crown of your head. "You can talk to me,"

"W-what if they don't li-like me?"

Astarion moves you both to the bed, skirting around the mess you made. He sits down and pulls you onto his lap to look you in the eyes better. "Why wouldn't they love you?" He prompts, not wanting to push you.

"Star, you know why. I'm not Tav," you hiccup, and you're positive the words you're speaking are incoherent. "I have their memories and some of their mannerisms and…and I'm also allergic to bees, but I'm not them. What if they hate me because I'm not Tav."

Astarion pecks your lips to halt your panicked words. He wipes the tears from your damp face. "No, you are not Tav, but they are part of you. They live in your art, laugh, and kind heart."

"But wha-"

"Let me finish, my love," Astarion smiles, brushing some hair behind your ear. "No one expects you to be Tav. We all love them deeply, but Tav's gone." He swallows hard, the words still hard to voice for him.

Astarion kisses your forehead, then your cheek, and continues to pepper kisses over your face, catching stray tears. "They just want to get to know the beautiful artist I fell in love with. Gale's big mouth might have let them know more about our history than I would have liked, but that doesn't change anything."

"And if they don't like the person you fell in love with?" You ask softly.

"Then fuck all of them. I love you, and if they don't love you as well, then they have no place in my life." His eyes pierce deep into yours, and there's no denying the truth of his words. You are overcome with a wave of love for your vampire and kiss him softly once more. "Now come, my love, by the smell, your roast is done."

"Shit!" You jump off his lap and rush out of the room, self-doubt pushed to the side.

*

The roast is fine if slightly burnt on the top. It looked juicy and smelled amazing. The vegetables are mush, but the potatoes are tender and seasoned well. It's not your best meal, but there's nothing you can do to fix it now. You left it on the counter to rest and found Astarion in the living room.

He was rehanging one of your paintings- the one you drew late last year after waking up in a cold sweat. It was a complete picture of the party standing on a dock overlooking the Grey Harbor just as the sun rose above the horizon. Astarion helps you fill in the gaps, telling you that this followed the fall of the Absolute.

"What are you doing?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning against the wall. You had hidden away most of your art, too embarrassed by the sheer number of canvases depicting the guest due here any minute.

Astarion finishes hanging the painting above the fireplace and turns to you. "I liked this one and thought I'd put it back."

Before you could say anything, there was a knock at the door. Your stomach instantly dropped, and your heart beat hard in your chest. As if sensing your rising anxiety, Astarion moved to your side, his large palm finding the small of your back.

He swiftly kisses your cheek. "One word and I'll throw them all out."

Astarion leaves you and walks to answer the door. Your palms are sweating, and you rub them down your thighs. You take a few deep breaths and pace the room. Not knowing what else to do, you idly fluff up the decorative pillows of the couch and stall.

"Pull yourself together." You mumbled under your breath. You hear the sounds of multiple footsteps, and you know they're all here.

Why did Astarion request for them to arrive all at once? You're still not sure. But you're suddenly very pissed at him for his decision. Having all of them looking upon you like an art exhibit terrifies you.

"My dear," Astarion pokes his head into the room, a warm smile adorning his sharp features. "Would you like to meet our guest?"

You swallowed hard and nodded. Putting on a brave smile, you rounded the couch and reached for Astarion's hand. Threading his fingers with yours, you curled around his arm like a lifeline.

Moving out into the foyer, you shyly look at the group before you. Gale, given the circumstances of your and Astarion's meeting, you had already met. He had relentlessly bothered Astarion until an introduction was made between you and the wizard. But you've only seen the others in the paintings you've made and the dreams you've seen.

Karlach bounced on her feet, Wyll smiling brightly behind her left shoulder. Haslin stood by the door, a beautifully sculpted wooden bear in his arms. Shadowheart stood beside him, her face passive but relaxed and almost pleased. Lae'zel was the farthest from the group, brooding in the corner, looking at you suspiciously. Still, she even loosened her tense shoulders and stepped forward upon your entry.

"Um, hi." You waved meekly, giving them your name, cringing when your voice cracked.

It's quiet for a moment too long, and you're a step away from fleeing when Karlach skips over to you.

"Can I hug you?!" She almost yells, shaking her fists excitedly.

"Karlach!" Astarion scolds. The Tiefling had, by the looks of it, broken a rule he had set for your comfort.

"Sorry, sorry." Karlach's smile fades, and she moves to retreat. Your heart clenches, and it's like your body moves on instinct. You detach from Astarion before you can think, and then your arms are around her waist. Her scalding heat seeps into your bones and listen to the cranks of her engine.

"Hi Karlach," you whispered into her torso. The wind squeezed from your body, and your feet were off the ground.

"It's nice to finally meet you! The letters fangs write didn't do you justice."

Quickly, the group connects like magnets. Wyll crowds in and hugs you from behind, pressing you closer to Karlach. Gale piles on after, then Halsin. Shadowheart nudges her way between the men and apologizes on behalf of everyone but gives you an equally tight squeeze. The group even wrangles Astarion and Lae'zel into this group hug.

These people are supposed to be strangers, but having them close, seeing this family you've watched through someone else's memories for most of your life right before you. It fills you with familiar warmth and affection and has tears of joy in your eyes. You might not be Tav, not entirely, but you still have a place in this little family.

"Um…excuse me, I can't breathe." You squeak out after a moment of suffocation, and the group is quick to disperse.

Wiping away the lingering dampness from your cheek, you take a moment to compose yourself, clearing your throat with a subtle grace. Your hand instinctively finds its way back, and Astarion swiftly recovers it, his touch reassuring. Soft circles dance on the back of your hand, a silent question lingering in his gaze, seeking affirmation that you're all right. You respond with a nod and a comforting squeeze of his hand.

"Ah, well…" you chuckle with a hint of self-awareness. "I have a roast with everyone's names on it. And a blueberry pie; Astarion found a wild patch on one of his hunts."

"Thank the gods, I'm famished," Wyll sighs, his appetite evident as he sniffs the air dreamily. A nudged Karlach sets the communal movement toward the dining room in motion.

Astarion emerges with the wine, gracefully pouring glasses of red for everyone. Gale, the sole visitor to your home beforehand, takes charge of the table settings. With a flick of his fingers and a whispered incantation, plates and silverware align harmoniously. The stage set, the food emerges, and the night takes flight.

It feels like a cinematic scene picking up where it had once paused, a seamless continuation. Laughter weaves through the air, stories unfold, and even the occasional argument dissolves into a chorus of joyous laughter. Though new and fresh, the conversation flows as naturally as breathing. Strangers evolve into friends, and amidst the clinking of glasses, a familial bond begins to sprout. Tav was indeed fortunate to have these beautiful souls around.

As the night bids farewell and everyone departs, you find solace curled up against Astarion. His voice, a gentle undercurrent, softly reads from his newest book, and you gaze up, fixated on the beautiful man before you. A silent expression of gratitude graces your lips, an unspoken acknowledgment directed at Tav. Thanks for giving you a family and the love of your life.

Astarion's fingers scratch your scalp, tenderly coaxing your eyes closed. "What are you thinking about, little love?"

"Just how lucky I am."

"I would argue I'm the lucky one, but I suppose we can share," he smiles; he continues to read to you and massage your scalp until you're puddy against his body, sleep having all but consumed you. The night settles into a tranquil symphony, the warmth of shared love lingering in the serenity.

Okay I know it was a bit cheesy, but I needed so fluffy shit today. Anyway, tell me what you thought I love talking with y'all.

Taglist: heartfully10, ayselluna, marina-and-the-memes

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

Rye Whiskey

♢ Summary: Celebrating Sean's return to camp includes a drunk Arthur, which allows you to discover this whole new side of him. ♢Words: 2057 ♢Warnings: None except for the whole alcohol/drinking theme, basically it's just a one-shot of a fluff idea I had watching the video of drunk Arthur saying nonsense to Saddie. ♢a/n: I recommend reading it with the mindset that Arthur is in the same state as in "A Quiet Time" and listening to Rye Whiskey to put you in the mood! Wrote a little sequel for this! Read it here. ♢Credits: These gorgeous dividers are from @cafekitsune!

♪ "O Mollie O Mollie, it's for your sake alone,

That I leave my old parents, my house and my home!" ♪

Even if one didn't know Sean had returned to the gang, they could have noticed it right away hearing his cheerful singing, his thick Irish accent rolling the words even more musically. As the main entertainer of the gang, he was absolutely delighted to have a party thrown for him, and honestly, his big toothless smile made your heart feel warmer. Tonight, in the fresh air of New Hanover, it was only laughter, guitar notes, and drunken sounds that were echoing through the camp, everyone finally having a real good time since they had settled at Horseshoe Overlook after such a long period hidden in the ruthless cold of the Grizzlies.

You were sitting around one of the campfires, with Javier, Sean, Uncle, and John. Karen had also joined, gladly sitting on Sean's lap with a bottle in her hand; you were sure there was something between them, and the poor man probably deserved some sweet time after what he had been through. Talking about bottles, the floor was flooded with a large amount of them around your little singing group, almost like a big pond of green shining glass you all fed every few minutes when someone would empty one.

You had your fair share of drinks already, a slight blush burning your cheeks, the alcohol keeping you warm under the night's cold breeze and happy despite the gang's precarious situation. Funny, how whiskey would make everything easier and more entertaining, no matter who or where you were looking at.

Alright, you had to admit it, maybe you were a bit tipsy, but so were John, Javier, Sean, and Karen, their happy faces softly lit by the golden flames. But Arthur, -Oh Lord, Arthur was far beyond drunk, he was wrecked. Looking at him from where you were sitting and singing along, you could see just how much of a mess he was; at least three of his shirt's buttons were undone, said shirt opened messily; his hair scattered under his hat and looking a bit sticky, almost as if he had put his whole head into a barrel of beer; he had a constant smile on his face, and his body was swaying slightly as if he was an unstable bottle being tossed around by the waves of a tormented sea. You chuckled to yourself; he was quite a sight to see, and you wondered if you actually had ever seen him that drunk. A few weeks back, Lenny had told you about the wild night he and Arthur had at Valentine's saloon, but the man in question had slept in jail and came back to camp completely sober, which made you unable to see his incredibly drunken state and made you wonder what the hell he must have done to end up in said jail.

♪ "If the Oceans were whiskey, and I were a duck, -Quack quack !-

I'd dive to the bottom, and get one sweet sup !" ♫

You chuckled at how Arthur had added the quacking part, finding it quite endearing. It was almost as if it was a whole new side of him, and you couldn't stop watching. His deep voice sounded surprisingly good as he was singing with the others, and you caught yourself liking hearing it. After all, you always had a sweet spot for him, so you wouldn't complain about having the opportunity to look at him as much as you wanted without him noticing it (or at least, being too drunk to understand what exactly was happening). His bright blue eyes, sparkling with the orange ashes of the fire, along with his light brown hair and stubble, his black opened shirt, his thin lips curled into this big stupid smile... It was all making your heart melt more and more. You almost lost it when he started drinking again, roughly grabbing a nearby bottle, probably without even knowing what it was containing, and bringing it to his mouth, the golden liquid sliding in his throat, making his Adam's apple bob, some glistening drops of it flowing from the bottle all the way down his scarred chin, then his throat, ending up lost in the dark hairs of his chest.

You're suddenly pulled out of your starring trance by his loud voice cutting through the song's lyrics: "Lenny, mah boy! Come and sing with us."

"Arthur... You had too many drinks again..." Lenny answered with an amused giggle as he was passing behind him, catching his inebriated eldest as he had got up to greet him, but ended up stumbling on the way and almost tripped on him, it only made Arthur laugh at himself.

There was no need to specify that Lenny had trouble holding him upright, Arthur being under normal circumstances quite a weight to carry, and even more so when he was in such a state not making any effort to prevent his face from kissing the ground. Quickly, you got up yourself, and took a few steps towards the men, helping Lenny on his difficult task.

"Look who it is... Miss Y/L/N !" Arthur greeted you with foggy eyes and a wide grin as if you two hadn't seen each other for years when you had talked only a few hours ago. He instantly put one of his arms above your shoulders and the other around Lenny's. "C-come ooon, let's dance !"

Lenny sighed before laughing a bit, letting Arthur bring him into his drunken enthusiasm; you chuckled along with him, not complaining about being so close to the handsome cowboy you had your heart and eye on for a while, even if he was barely able to register what he was actually doing and with whom. As Javier started playing a lively song, Arthur, Lenny and you were throwing your legs up in the air; you laughed some more noticing how your favorite cowboy had a hard time actually following the rhythm. You couldn't believe just how euphoric he was tonight, almost as if the bottles had turned on a switch in his mind, making him go completely wild without any of his usual gruff restraints. Maybe that was what the alcohol did to everyone. Maybe that was what it was doing to you right now but you couldn't be sure if it was, precisely because you were happily drunk and carefree.

The night continued and you blushed realizing Arthur hadn't let you go, his arms always ended up around your shoulders or on it as he was sometimes leaning against you. His manly scent, a sweet mix of smoky tones brought by tobacco and gunpowder, and woody ones, supported by pine and leather traces. Your head was starting to feel dizzy just by smelling it, your mind even more intoxicated by it than the alcohol you had been drinking all night.

"Maybe..."

You brush away your thoughts, he was really drunk, and he could have been like that with anyone. You spent the rest of the night having fun, drinking some more, laughing, singing, the whole gang having more and more fun as everyone had loosened up thanks to the booze. However at some point, the main man of the party, Sean, disappeared with Karen, and people started going to bed. After all, it was almost morning already, the stars of the night not as bright anymore as they were around the middle of the night, subtle sun rays making their presence known behind the outlines of the mountains, but not appearing just yet.

It was now only you, John, and Arthur left around the campfire, the dark-haired man looking down at his brother at heart, an amused grin on his face. Arthur was half asleep at you and John's feet, bottle in one hand, his other arm curled up around your leg. With all the proximity and physical contact he had given you through the whole night, your heart and body had gotten warmer, and you had to make enormous efforts to keep your thoughts in line, not wanting to have any false hope about him and his behavior.

"He's so goddamn drunk... " John sighed.

"Clearly."

"Come on, let's carry him to bed." John said to you, getting up with difficulty from the log you both were sitting on.

"Aah, you guys are no f-fun!" Arthur protested, his voice even hoarser than usual due to his intoxicated self. "Come on, one more drink!"

"Nope, you're going to bed." John's own croaky tone answered his partner. He then looked at you while bending down, expecting you to help him lift Arthur's poor body.

You leaned over, helping John. Arthur was barely able to walk, leaning heavily on you and John, one of his arms above John's shoulder just as earlier with Lenny, but his other one around your waist. Your cheeks burned. Even if it was just drunken attention... You liked it.

The three of you started to walk to Arthur's tent, as fast as you could considering his feet were more brushing the ground than actually stepping on it. You just weren't capable of having any coherent thoughts at this point, your whole being living for the warm sensation of his big palm on your waist, feeling how his fingers were gently rubbing against your clothes.

"You two... Are the b-best..." Arthur slurred out in a rough voice when you had reached his tent. As gently as you both could, John and you were trying to lay him in his cot.

"Yeah, yeah. Goodnight, Arthur." John answered with an amused chuckle, placing one of his legs in its rightful place on his bed.

"Y/N, you're beautiful..." Arthur added in an almost unintelligible rumble, as you were pulling back from him. "I l-love you."

Your jaw dropped. What did he say? Did you hear that right? You froze, eyes glued to the outlaw, who was already turning around to sleep on his stomach, lips parted, a light snore emerging from his noose; he had instantly fallen asleep as if he had permission to now that he was in his cot.

John looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't take it seriously, Y/N." He advised you. "He already told that to Abigail and Karen before, even Saddie if I reckon right."

"Oh, erm... Alright, I won't." You answered your friend. Honestly, you probably would have slept better not knowing that; a sharp little sliver of disappointment subtly piercing through your heart. "Goodnight then, John."

"Goodnight, Y/N, thanks for the help." The scarred man greeted you before heading to his own tent. It was so late, you were sure Abigail would reprimand him for that tomorrow morning.

But that was John's problem, and you already had one yourself.

You took a last look at your sleepy cowboy before walking off to your own tent. He looked cute like this, hair messy, clothes completely disheveled; even his snoring was pretty endearing to you. You reluctantly turned your back to him, resisting the urge to actually lay with him in his cot. After all, he wouldn't have complained, wouldn't he? He probably wouldn't even have noticed... These thoughts got stuck in your brain as you lay in your own cot, pretty tired yourself after partying all night, your spirit slowly drifting away in the realm of dreams, sleep troubled by blurry visions of what had happened during the night, a beautiful, charming, stupid smile keeping on reappearing from time to time in your slumber.

Arthur opened his eyes. "It hurts"; were the first words that came to his mind. His back, his neck, his goddamn head, everything was hurting him. Getting old was definitely not a piece of cake. He rubbed his eyes, which felt dry and burnt, just like his thorny throat, even if a slight string of saliva had slid from his mouth. Getting that drunk was definitely too frequent for him lately, the other night with Lenny still engraved in his memory and his tired body, fed up with his poor drinking decisions. He slowly got up, rubbing his face, carefully avoiding his gaze from looking at the sun, its light way too powerful for him in this hungover state.

Looking around the camp, he smiled internally seeing Karen emerging from Sean's tent. Little bastard had gotten himself a good time last night. While thinking back about what happened, he had a hard time remembering all of it, as often when he was that drunk. Maybe it was better that way, considering his impressive capacity to get in trouble and make a fool of himself in those kinds of situations. However this time, something was lingering in the back of his mind.

You.

Your delicate smell, how the soft fabric of your clothes felt under his fingers, how your voice sounded into his ears, how smooth and mellow your leg was. How the hell did he knew about all that? He focused, frowning, trying so hard to remember what had happened, but all he had was these sensations, those pleasant, haunting sensations. He couldn't help but feel flustered all by himself, sat on his bed, cheeks getting slightly flushed, just imagining the reasons why he suddenly knew so much about the grain of your skin and the warmth of your body against his;

He prayed deeply he didn't do anything stupid with you; Lord knows how important you were to him. Hell, he had thought about you a lot already, thought about offering you flowers or maybe a nice jewel, something that would be as pretty as you even if to him, no physical object could ever compete with your astonishing beauty and your adorable, sweet, sunny personality.

But before all that, he needed to have a few words about last night with you. Probably would stumble on his words, look like an idiot again, but at least he would be able to be close to you, just like in those sweet lingering memories in his head.

Sequel here.

a/n : Alright so... Here it is! My first one-shot ever. Please, if you notice anything, any mistakes, or a weird-sounding sentence: let me know! English isn't my first language and I'm actually anxious as hell to publish this! Anyway, thanks for reading this until the end and take care <3

[lyriumcoloredskies]

Shaken Up Hearts

Pairing: Sanji x Reader, Zoro x Reader, Zoro x Sanji, Zoro x Reader x Sanji WC: 10k Summary: Sanji's brain short-circuits. What? Did he hear that correctly? You both wanted him? “Don’t over think this.” Zoro murmurs into his ear, hot breath fanning over the sensitive skin. CW: 18+ MDNI, alcohol consumption, misunderstanding, idiots in love, porn with way too many feelings, angst, jealousy, pining, PIV, anal sex, oral, threesome, guy on guy, girl on guy, bisexual sanji, bisexual zoro, reader is described as AFAB, polyamory, happy ending AN: *taps cigarette on the ashtray* look idk what to say, this was supposed to be a 5k word mindless smut but it turned into this because I am incapable of writing smut without feels it seems.

Faithfulness and resoluteness.

You and Zoro.

The two of you are held in high regard as the oldest crew members, with you joining only a few days after Zoro. Dependable and resilient, should any troubles find them on the seas, the crew knew they could always rely on you two. The sentiment is shared between you and Zoro. Time and time again, Zoro proved himself worthy of the mantle of first mate, making agonizing decisions for the betterment of the crew when even Luffy couldn’t. He was a surprising voice of pragmatism in the hardest of times, something you appreciated him for.

Zoro’s opinion of you ran deep as well. Steadfast, you were a beacon in the darkest times, an outstretched hand always offered to any nakama in need. Without hesitation, you always had the right words to breathe new life into the resolves of those around you.

It’s a deep respect that’s built off watching each other defeat every obstacle to persevere despite the difficult nature of having such large dreams in a vast ocean that only knows to crush the people that enter its waters. It’s something primal as you watch in titillation as Zoro dominates his adversaries with his iron will, something Zoro reciprocates with a voracious gleam in his eyes any time he fought alongside you.

That respect for each other would sometimes turn into something mischievous. Two tigers testing the limits of each other’s boundaries, teeth bared at the anticipation of gaining ground. Friendly competition the two of you called it – the crew called it anything but. The two of you were people who, once you set your mind to something, would chase the ends of the world for it. This included winning childish competitions. It was impossible to break the two of you apart when you decided to sink your teethes into each other like snarling pups. The point was proven early into your journey, during the banquet at Vivi’s castle, an incident that would aptly be named the Drinking Contest Incident of Alabasta, where the two of you were goaded by Usopp into seeing how many barrels of alcohol each of you could consume.

'Surely they won’t go too far' Usopp thought.

He was proven wrong when both you and Zoro neared the bottom of the second barrels, only taking a break to puke in the Royal Alabastan Gardens before going back to drinking – health be damned. The night ended in you and Zoro out cold, laid out on your sides as to not choke on your own vomit while Chopper flittered about, panicking that the two morons might actually die in his care. After seeing Chopper’s visage overcome hysterics, face streaked with tears and snot, Nami beat the both of you over the head the next day. She sternly put her foot down on any future y/n and Zoro competitions. The rest of the crew dutifully agreed that you and Zoro were not to be trusted. It only took two more incidents for you and Zoro to admit they were right. It was purely out of self-preservation, lest the two of you not even survive to see your dreams fulfilled. Occasionally the competitiveness would rear up, but time had tempered the two of you. The both of you found less and less things worth fighting over, no longer did you fight over bottles of wine and sake, instead choosing to share.

Life was funny in that way.

****

You were on your 5th bottle of wine and Zoro on his 7th, not that you were counting.

Of course not.

The warm embrace of alcohol has long since settled in your flesh, the balmy air adding to the flush of your cheeks. You found yourself swaying to the beat of the Shandorian drums, beat thrumming in your veins. Drunken eyes watched as your crewmates and the Skypeians dance around the bonfire, care thrown to the wind. You glaze over the figure of Usopp surrounded by a group of children, no doubt enthralling them with a legendary tale of Captain Usopp, commander of 8000 troops.

A mixture of the wine and altitude have you searching for a place to sit, wanting to not fall on your ass in spectacular fashion. Your head swivels about, you see Robin in deep discussion with Gan Fall and rule that out. Another turn a few degrees to the left and you spy Zoro sitting alone. Fueled by bad ideas and Skypeian wine, you grab another bottle before settling on the log next to Zoro, leaving a comfortable distance in between. The rich tannins of the wine dance delightfully on your tongue, and you decide to take another pull before you offer the bottle to Zoro. He accepts, your fingers minutely brushing against each other at the pass. He takes a moment to read the label before taking a swig, throwing his head back, the prominent veins of his neck highlighted by the firelight. Traitorous eyes linger for too long at the bob of his adams apple. The two of you sit in comfortable silence, passing the bottle back and forth, watching the silly antics of your crew as they celebrate this hard earned win.

Zoro is the first to break the lazy pattern of back and forth with the wine. Your outstretched arm aches as you hold the bottle out for a mite too long. The confused look you offer him goes unanswered as well, the swordsman a million miles away. Your eyes follow his gaze and you can’t help the feeling that settles into your stomach with the wine.

It’s Sanji.

He’s staring at Sanji.

Sanji, who is bathed in orange glow from the bonfire, his porcelain skin flushed with pink like an angel dusted it over his cheeks. Emotions well inside of you, flooding into an ugly feeling that you found yourself wadding in. Not wanting to bother with the messiness of it all, you brashly decide to down the rest of the bottle, hoping that the burn of the alcohol would drown everything out. To hell with feeling bad on a night as good as this.

Unfortunately, like a whore on the day that the rent is due, the feelings don’t stop bothering you, nagging constantly in the inner cogs of your mind. Inhibited by the mind meddling nature of wine, your mouth opens and words you don’t recognize tumble out.

“Got a crush?”

Your fishing attempt snags you a gaping, sputtering Zoro. Fuck, now you wish you hadn’t said anything at all. Zoro’s hilarious dumbfounded expression only soothes your heart a tiny bit.

Unrestrained, a loud cackle rips out of you, another cheap cover to hide the hurt radiating through you. It seems to further Zoro’s embarrassment, the man’s cheeks flushing a pretty red. In an attempt to get even, he snatches the bottle from you only to realize it was empty.

“Asshole.”

The only response he gets from you is another cackle. It takes a few moments for you to settle down, letting the silence envelope the two of you again.

“If you like him so much, why don’t you tell him?”

You pick at the skin near your nails, an ugly habit.

“Tch. It’s not that simple.”

You roll your eyes, of course it was simple. Zoro was just an idiot. Irritation lingers like a fog in your mind as the wine fails to numb your pesky feelings. Quickly, you lose yourself, letting various fleeting thoughts pull you in every direction. Zoro doesn’t comment on your sudden silence, keeping you company while you think.

“What if I like him too?”

Two heads turn and eyes lock. Zoro’s eyes are dark and indecipherable to you as the firelight danced on them. Seconds tick by but neither of you drop your gaze.

“Marimo! Y/n-swan! Try these!”

Two pairs of eyes break their battle, swinging over to catch the sight of Sanji walking over, an excited wide grin gracing his delicate features. His signature cigarette firmly between his white teeth and in each hand he holds a skewers of meat and vegetables.

The blond thrusts a skewer to the both of you before sitting between the two of you. You examine the skewer, it’s comprised of some sort of marinated red meat and vegetables that look like mushrooms and leeks. Steam wafts upward and with it the smell of something peppery and tangy.

“The flavors are something I’ve never tried before! I asked them and they say that they use a combination of pink peppercorns and a citrus called the hand of god” Sanji prattles on, his enthusiasm palpable. You and Zoro watch him, engrossed in the boyish wonder on his face. Pairs of eyes meet again in a fragile moment. You have no words for Zoro and he has none for you, yet you know that the two of you understand each other. He studies you intensely before offering you a solid nod, one that you reciprocate. The cook chatters on, inhibitions lowered by the alcohol, oblivious to what was happening only a few inches from him.

****

The next few islands pass by uneventfully, both you and Zoro hesitant to make a move. It ends up an awkward dance around each other and Sanji, a weird tango of frustration whose steps involve having enough nerve to track down the blond but suffering from cold feet when it came to talking with him. It’s only after the events of Water 7 that you decide to muster up the gumption to try. Life was too short for you to shy away from the things you wanted, and you could tell Zoro decided the same.

“Sanji-”

The cook’s ears perk up at the melodic notes of your voice, heart stirring. He turns his attention from the prep work in front of him, meeting your face with a playboy smile.

“Yes, my sweet angel?”

“Do you mind if I watch you cook lunch?” you ask, the innocent tilt of your head making Sanji’s heart palpate. You wanted to watch him cook?

“O-of course my angel!”

You beam and it makes his heart beat rapidly. With gentle footsteps you pad into the kitchen. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, the sounds of Sanji’s knifework taking over the small space. After a few minutes, his curiosity picks up and he peeks out of his periphery to see you standing a mere few inches from him, leaning close enough to touch his arm. He works on autopilot, hands relying on muscle memory as he prepped the vegetables for lunch. Your hands are clasped behind your back in your usual pose. For anyone else, Sanji would preen like a peacock, ready to show off his honed skills, but under the lens of your inscrutable eye, he feels so exposed. Trying to stave off sudden uncomfortableness of the silence his mouth opens, and he finds himself rambling about cooking techniques. Ever patient, you nod and comment in all the right places.

While Sanji loved every lady on the ship, in the deepest crevices of his heart, he would readily admit that you were his favorite. Your soft smiles of encouragement, the way you entertained his foolish notions, all of it made Sanji’s heart turn into goo in his chest.

Gods, you had managed to carve out your place in his heart so early, the memory often rewinding and replaying in his head. It hadn’t been long since he left Baratie to make his home on Merry Go, back when Luffy still had the habit of picking out the vegetables in all his dishes. You chided the boyish captain on his behalf. The first bits of kindness he received from someone who wasn’t Zeff or the Baratie cooks.

“Luffy, Sanji worked hard to cook us this food. Don’t disrespect his efforts by being picky.”

After dinner that you offered him an earnest smile, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“In case anyone hasn’t told you yet, you’re doing a wonderful job Sanji. Dinner was lovely.”

It made him feel like the same little boy stuck in the North Blue watching his mother eat his food for the first time. The grip you had on him had only tightened since then.

“You know Sanji, every time you cook, I find myself understanding you a bit more.”

Hands plating an intricate dish pause.

“A-ah why do you say that y/n-swan?”

Sanji’s heart seizes as you take one of his hands into yours, fingertips running over callouses and burn scars. An action so tender that for just a moment, Sanji could fool himself into thinking it was the touch of a lover. Your heated gaze focuses on his hands with a look of fondness, it causes him to reel, mind spinning with possibilities of what this could all mean. Did you want this just as much as he did? Did you spend your nights staring at the ceiling and thinking of him like he did with you?

“I understand why you don’t want to fight with your hands. When you cook it’s like a symphony, every movement you take, every dish you make, it’s all meant to nourish and heal. You’re built to love Sanji, not destroy.”

The lump in his throat grows until it’s too painful for him to swallow, edges of his vision blur with tears, threatening to fall. Was he so transparent that you could read him so well? A few words and you had flayed open his very existence, his heart and soul. The words you say mean more than you’ll ever know. His ocean eyes search yours hoping to find an answer to his lingering questions.

BANG

He jumps, the two of you breaking apart at the loud noise, any tension in the room dissipating.

“OIII SANJIII!! LUUUUNCH!!!”

Luffy catapult himself at Sanji, wrapping his limbs around him like an unruly octopus, much to the ire of the chef. Sanji tries to wrestle himself out of Luffy’s grasp, angrily yelling at him.

The loud noise startles you, your heart pounding a mile a minute in your chest. You marinate in the sudden surge of adrenaline for too long before you feel a hand on your wrist. Eyes trace it back to its owner – Zoro. He assesses you for a few seconds.

“You alright?”

Thud. Thud. Thud. Your pulse pounds in every inch of you and your lungs greedily swallow air and hold it in an attempt to calm down. Your thoughts race and you feel the distinct feeling of regret. Regret that you didn’t make a bolder move.

A wobbly smile is the answer Zoro gets, one that makes him frown ever so slightly. The sight makes him rub circles on your wrist with his thumb. The contact soothes you and you’re grateful that you had the swordsman as such an understanding friend. You settle a free hand on his, offering him a brighter smile, hoping to lessen his worries.

“I am.”

The two of you unaware of the pair of eyes that witnessed the scene.

****

Sanji stares from the railing of the Thousand Sunny, the light of the setting sun casts an ethereal rosy light over the glimmering ocean. Pinks, reds, and blues mashing into a myriad of colors that all swirl like glittering gems.

From the upper deck, it isn’t the sun or the ocean that Zoro admires. It’s the glow of the sun on Sanji’s face. His eyes trace the elegant slope of his nose, drinking up the way the sun dyes his fair hair into a strawberry blond. His mouth goes dry, his palms becoming sweatier by the minute. Plucking up some courage, Zoro crosses the distance of the Sunny, stopping next to the object of his desires.

“The sunset is beautiful isn’t it.”

Zoro wants to cut out his tongue. What a lame comment. Sanji deserved better. Someone who could weave him a beautiful tapestry of words, words which don’t even exist in Zoro. After all he is a man of action and not platitudes.

Sanji hums out in agreement, never moving his eyes from the beauty of the scene in front of them.

They don’t talk much, but there’s an easiness to the quiet between them as they watch the sun inch closer into the horizon. The Sunny lurches at a particularly big wave and Sanji is caught off guard, wobbling a little. He’s steadied by a hand on the small of his back.

“Ah, thanks Marimo.”

“No problem, Sanji.”

His name on the swordsman’s lips gives him pause. Zoro almost never calls him by his name. Then he becomes acutely aware that Zoro hasn’t moved his hand, his palm is large and warm on Sanji’s clothed back. The contact is like lightning in his spine and for reasons unknown his heart stutters. He mildly wonders if he should say something, unsure of what the contact means for the two of them.

Deciding his brain feels too stuffed with cotton, Sanji fishes out his lighter and cigarette from his suit jacket pocket, hoping for some clarity in the nicotine. Stupidly, he holds the pack out for Zoro offering him a cigarette, despite knowing the swordsman doesn’t smoke. Before he can rescind the gesture, Zoro’s free hand takes a cigarette from him. Their eyes meet and he finds Zoro’s are unreadable as always. The other man brings the cigarette closer to his face, rolling it in his fingers as he examines the tobacco stick. A laugh huffs out of Sanji’s mouth as he lights his cigarette. He inhales precious smoke, and in the haze of his exhale, his eyes linger a little too long at the sight of the cigarette loosely held in between Zoro’s chapped lips.

“Here let me light it for you.”

Sanji holds the lit lighter out, only for the wind to snuff it. He tries again, flicking the flint a few more times. Each time the wind picks up, extinguishing the flame. A scowl overcomes Sanji’s face.

“Here, we can just-”

Sanji looks up from the lighter at the sound of Zoro’s voice. The other man pulls his hand from Sanji’s lower back and Sanji becomes conscious of the fact that the action leaves him sad at the loss of contact. That’s when he feels the green haired man’s large palm on the back of his neck, searing into his skin as he steadies him. Zoro leans in closer bringing his cigarette to the tip of Sanji’s.

A cigarette kiss.

Sanji’s brain is a mess. ‘It’s just the damn Marimo’ he tries to reason with himself, but he feels heat lick at the apples of his cheeks.

He’s blushing. At Zoro.

The man’s actions have flustered him to his core, tongue too heavy to form words. His eyes soak in the sight of Zoro slowly sucking in – ‘holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, what the fuck?!’ his mind screams at him.

The man offers Sanji no reprieve, continuing his hold on Sanji as he made sure the of his cigarette is lit before breaking apart. Sanji’s world is tilted on its axis, heart pounding so furiously he feels it in his fingertips. He half expects it to burst through his sternum.

Zoro gives an experimental breath before hacking out a loud cough, sound reminiscent of a dying walrus. The scene is so jarring, how the man could go from turning Sanji’s brain into mush to coughing out a lung. It makes him laugh so hard he’s clutching his stomach, abs cramping as he tries to greedily swallow in more air.

It was so Zoro.

Through the tears of laughter, Sanji can see pink dusting Zoro’s face, clearly embarrassed by his lack of experience.

“Take slow inhales, mix it in with some fresh air, it gets easier after a while.”

Sanji’s smile is so wide it hurts his cheeks. He watches Zoro attempt again, the man’s body tensing in an effort to not cough out all the smoke.

“This is horrible Sanji. I don’t know how you do this every day.”

All Sanji can offer the man is a chuckle. He takes in the sight of the swordsman, bathed in the dying light of the sunset, shadows accentuating the strong lines of his face. He’s about to respond when he hears Nami’s voice calling for him.

“Sanji, the bathroom is free if you want to shower!”

He turns, giving her his undivided attention.

“Thank you Nami-chwan! You look especially beautiful after your bath!”

When Sanji turns back, Zoro is no longer facing him instead looking out into the ocean where the last glimmers of the sun fade into the horizon.

“Go ahead and take your bath, cook.”

Sanji manages a nod, feeling odd at the sudden change in attitude. Things had felt so great between them, so what happened? His feet feel heavy as he walks towards the bathroom. Halfway, he doesn’t know why but he spins on his heel, wanting to confront the man.

He wishes he didn’t.

He sees you with Zoro, again.

The two of you huddled close, your hand caressing the swordsman’s cheek. The both of you bathed in the beginnings of moonlight. Sanji’s heart clenches painfully.

It was just like before – Vinsmoke Sanji always comes in last.

****

Things progress at a snail’s pace. Both you and Zoro are seemingly thwarted at every turn whether it be Sanji rejecting your advances or being interrupted in the most inopportune times. A silver lining for Zoro comes in the form of you. Despite being his rival in love, you’re there to pick up the pieces of him, little pep talks flowing from your lips. He hopes that he’s done the same for you. The best of his efforts goes into repairing the shaky smiles on your face, splitting bottles of wine with you as the two of you gripe about love. It’s an odd routine, but one that Zoro finds himself not minding. There is comfort and familiarity in your company.

That was until the crew step foot on Sabaody Archipelago. Everything came to a grinding halt at Sabaody. It was an utter disaster. Not even a foot into the New World and the Grand Line had chewed the crew up and spat them back out.

Panic sets Zoro’s bones the minute he wakes up. Thoughts of his nakama rushing through his brain at breakneck speed. Were you all safe? Did you guys make it off Sabaody? Zoro keenly feels the loss of his crew, guilt seeping into every crack in his heart. If only he had been stronger - strong enough to defeat Bartholomew Kuma on Thriller Bark, strong enough to carry everyone’s dreams on his back.

He spends two days lost in the maze of a castle that weird Ghost Girl brought him to, trying desperately to find his swords. He squashes down the invasive thoughts attempting to claw its way into his mind – were you all even still alive? It doesn’t help that the girl, Perona he finds out is her name, keeps giving him directions that seem to get him lost even further. Frustration bubbles under his skin. He is wholly useless, a feeling that is reaffirmed when he is defeated by the humandrills, his only hope of reaching his friends dashed by his own inadequacy.

When he feels like things couldn’t get worse, he hears about Ace. Zoro wants to scream, to dig his fingers into his chest and rip out his own beating heart. Frustration, fury, despair – it all whirls inside of him for Luffy. How could things have gone so wrong?

Zoro tries hard not to wallow in his sadness. He beats down his pride and grovels to Mihawk, begging the man he wants to defeat one day to teach him, to make him into a man worthy of being called Luffy’s nakama.

Time flows, and slowly but surely, Zoro adapts to his life on the deserted island. Mihawk is a fair teacher and his brutal teaching methods have Zoro progressing faster than even he could admit. Although the lack of alcohol grates on his nerves. Though he would never admit it out loud, Perona isn’t too bad either when she isn’t annoying him.

He spends his days training, eating, and sleeping, a routine that isn’t unfamiliar to him, but his mind remains plagued by the brewing thoughts of you and Sanji.

His mind goes in cycles, starting with hopes that you two are alright. Surely you’re safe, Zoro’s mind doesn’t want to can’t think of the alternative. He wonders if Sanji has found himself on an island with enough food, cold fear nestled in his heart at the idea of the cook going without. He hopes you have extra blankets at night, his mind supplying him images of your shivering body on Drum Island, lips tinged blue.

The months gruel onward and late at night, when the world is silent and his body aches from the brutal beatings from Mihawk, Zoro imagines your soft touches, a comforting hand on his shoulder when things went wrong. He dreams of the bottle of sake he desperately wants to split between you two, talking about any and everything. He wants to see your smile.

On days where the sun blisters in the sky and Mihawk forces him to help with the farming, Zoro wonders if Sanji would be impressed. Would he give Zoro that smug grin of his, telling him to till the farm with appreciation for the food it grew? Would he be brave enough to commandeer Mihawk’s kitchen, lecturing to Zoro the entire time he cooks about how he needs to eat the right macronutrients to gain muscle. Zoro luxuriates in what-if’s and could-be’s, day in and day out.

He spends the hours of sundown to sunrise, staring at the cold grey stone ceiling of the castle pondering in a mire of his own doing. He wanted both of you but was desperate to hold onto what you and him had together, while craving every potential what-if with Sanji.

He stews in his feelings for months, unable to take himself out of his own head.

On a day where Mihawk is away on business, Zoro finds himself in the dining room, sun barely rising into the sky. Perona was nice enough to fix breakfast for the two of them but it only puts Zoro in a worse mood. His body is gripped in nostalgia, heart aching to wake up to the sound of Luffy and Chopper’s chatter in the morning, to pass by a sleep drunk Usopp and Franky grumbling out good mornings, and to make his way to the kitchen and have a plate be handed to him by the star of half his dreams. Increasingly lost in his own thoughts, he’s oblivious to Perona’s pouting.

“Ugh! You’re such a jerk!”

Perona waits a few seconds, giving the mosshead time to come to his senses and apologize but minutes tick by and she finds herself empty handed. In childish anger, her hands slam on the table.

“What the hell? Aren’t you going to thank me for breakfast??”

She is only given a wave, the gesture vaguely dismissal.

“Okay you idiot, what is it? What could possibly be so important that you forget to thank the person who saved your life?”

The question gives Zoro pause. He deliberates in his head a bit, uneasiness mashing in the pit of his stomach. To let someone know about his problems felt too vulnerable, but against his will the words of his dilemma spill out of him like an ugly fountain with fat babies on it, like the ones he saw plastered all over Water 7.

Perona regards him for a few minutes before rolling her eyes.

“You’re not very smart, are you?”

“The fuck?”

“You’re a pirate idiot. Being a pirate means you take what you want, you don’t need to share. So have both, duh. Who says you can’t have a boyfriend and a girlfriend?”

Whiplash. His brain rattles in his skull at Perona’s words. How ridiculous. This is what he gets for telling her his problems. He opens his mouth to tell her off but then the words sink into him.

Both? He could have both?

They were both strong enough to protect themselves, their bounties reflecting their skill, determined enough to pursue their own goals. They, more than anyone on the ship, knew the stakes of his dreams, not once had they ever discouraged him. Plus, the thought of the two of them tangled in a mess of naked limbs beckoning Zoro to join was a particularly tasty thought.

Perona shoots him a smug smile.

“You’re welcome~”

****

Nerves rattle through your body as you disembark from the small sailboat, steered by the kind martial arts master that found you two years ago. The elderly woman pats your hand in reassurance.

“Don’t worry dearie, I’m sure your boys are waiting for you. Now you make sure you stay safe and don’t forget to always pack a scarf.”

You give her a bright smile.

“Thank you so much, for everything. I’ve learned so much! Please make sure you tell everyone I got here alright.”

The woman matches your smile before waving you off. Excited feet don’t hesitate to quickly wander down Sabaody, taking you down semi familiar paths. You count the grove numbers in your head, excitement gripping your stomach as you finally arrive.

Grove 13.

The sight of the wooden sign of Shakky’s Rip-Off Bar shoots fresh nerves into your veins, anticipation ripe in your head. You take a deep breath, steeling your nerves before you push open the door to the bar.

Your eyes skim over the empty chairs and booths, finally settling on a green clad figure at the bar. Time slows and your heart threatens to burst out of your sternum, you can feel your pulse in your ear, not even hearing his name tumble out of your lips. The sight of him makes tears sting the corners of your eyes.

Zoro.

His signature three swords are still affixed to his side, hilts glinting in the low light of the establishment. A head turn makes the three golden strands of his earrings collide into each other. He stands tall and proud, two years of effort reflected in his new silhouette. You run to him, finding half of everything you had missed in the last two years in his hug. Tears run down your cheeks, absorbed by the green of his outfit, staining the fabric dark. You can’t bring yourself to care.

He still smells like steel and sea salt.

He presses a kiss to your hair, his large hands rubbing circles on your back as he pulls you closer to his chest. After seconds that feel too short, you part from him. You soak in the sight of his familiar features. Your eyes trace over the new scar over his eye, the strong line of his jaw, the slight bump in his nose. Hands wander up his biceps and you can’t help but ghost your fingertips over the newly acquired scars present on exposed skin. Fingers smooth over every part of him, his wide chest, his corded arms, all of it – desperate to memorize him after these years apart.

Lost in the moment, you miss the way Rayleigh and Shakky sharing a knowing smile.

Fingers interlaced, you let Zoro lead you to his room at a small bed and breakfast in Grove 17. You aren’t even mad when he gets lost twice, taking you down a winding path to Grove 7 instead. You missed this, the idiosyncrasies that come with living with someone, spending every waking hour together.

Once in the room you let your small bucket bag tumble to the floor. You wait patiently until Zoro has a chance to take off his katanas before you throw yourself into his arms again, the two of you tumbling into the small bed. His entire presence offers you a familiar comfort. He felt like home. You can tell he feels the same, the way he holds you tightly, as if you would disappear from his arms at any moment. He buries his nose into your hair and his chest moves from under you as he inhales. The two of you stay like that for several minutes, the silence finally being broken by Zoro.

“Y/n, I don’t want to be without you.”

Shivers shoot down your spine.

“What about Sanji?”

“Him too. We’re pirates y/n, we take what we want.”

You bury your face deeper into his muscular chest, heart fluttering in your own chest.

“Good, I don’t know what I’d do without my two boy toys.”, your words come out muffled and you can feel the vibrations as Zoro chuckles.

Lifting your head, you give him a lascivious grin. His eyes are as intense as ever, but you find that this time around you can pin down the emotions within because they’re the same as yours.

Your lips meet his in a kiss that he doesn’t hesitate to accept. His lips are warm and chapped, a combination you quickly find yourself addicted to. Your arms move on their own, snaking around his neck as his wrap around your waist, bringing you in closer to him. The both of you move feverishly, desperate to make sure this moment didn’t evaporate into the ether. His kiss is hungry, ferocity over taking you before he seems to rein it back in. He coaxes out a whimper from you as his hands wander to your bottom before pulling your hips in close to his, letting you straddle his waist. You let out a gasp as you feel his hardness grinding on the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. Utilizing the last braincell that isn’t drenched in hormones, you place a placating hand on his chest.

“Patience. Not without Sanji.”

To your surprise he is in agreeance with you, but he gives you a devilish grin all the same.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t get to kiss what’s mine.”

Laughter peels out of you, as Zoro smashes his lips into the crook of your neck, biting and sucking the sensitive flesh in a manner that was both ticklish and sensual.

“You’re right, it doesn’t.”

****

Sanji doesn’t know what to think. Reality was, he saw this was coming, the signs glaring at him two years ago.

You and Zoro were together.

The whole crew seemed to know it too.

“Yohohoho! They’re quite a handsome couple, don’t you agree Miss. Robin?”

“They do complement each other quite well.”

Everyone has seen the two of you look at each other, shooting puppy eyes at the dinner table, and of course Sanji is distinctly aware of the way Zoro takes your small hands into his, a rogue thumb tracing idle circles into your smooth skin. It’s all too intimate for two people who are “just crewmates”.

Sanji’s heart is broken, shattered into a million tiny pieces and he doesn’t know where to begin to put it all back together. He was an utter fool for having clung onto hope for two years, spending his days daydreaming about how the pieces would all fall into place, the two of you accepting his confessions of undying love.

Stupid, stupid Sanji.

The voices of his past mock him. How could anyone love stupid Sanji. How silly of you to even dream. Nestled in the sicker part of his brain, he wonders who he’s more jealous of – you or Zoro.

It should be him, his jealousy addled self whispers to him in the dead of night but Sanji knows it’s his fault for even daring to dream. The two of you were better off together. So, every day, he wakes up, chokes down the feelings that threaten to well up inside of him, and continue as if nothing was wrong.

He had been doing it well enough for the last twenty odd years, what’s the harm in a few more?

****

It doesn’t take long for an opportunity to present itself to you and Zoro.

The Sunny docks on a small island to restock on basic supplies and through divine intervention the stars align. Zoro catches the last vestiges of Sanji’s conversation with Nami, picking up the tidbit that he would come back to the ship immediately after he procured fresh meat and produce. Taking his chance, he offers himself and you up for guard duty, a move that garners no protest or suspicion.

After the crew clears out, the anxiety builds in your chest, your head spins and your palms feel clammy as the minutes pass by. Zoro doesn’t say it, but you could tell he felt the same, his rough fingers constantly flitting over the hilt of his katanas. You and Zoro split a bottle of sake for liquid courage, downing it like teenagers instead of passing it along at your usual leisurely pace. The sake helps a bit, dulling down the feelings.

The two of you are on the upper deck when you hear the click of expensive dress shoes on wood. Peeking, you spy Sanji’s golden hair as he reboards the ship. You signal Zoro with a nod of your head. The two of you break, Zoro to the kitchen to fetch Sanji and you to the women’s dormitory. Long strides quickly lead you to where you need to be, settling down on the blue comforter of your bed.  

In the midst of fiddling with a loose thread on one of your sheets, you hear the door open. Nerves tingle through your body as you see Sanji’s figure enter.

“A-ah y/n-swan! Marimo said you needed help with something?”

He takes a few strides, standing at the foot of the bed you were sitting on. The door clicks as Zoro shuts it behind him. Sanji sucks in a breath, suddenly feeling trapped in this confined space, anxiety pooling in his stomach.

“O-oh! Well Sanji you see… Um, w-well we..”

You bite your lips, fingers picking at the skin near your nails, something Sanji picks up on. He can’t help the prickling of curiosity in the back of his brain. What got you, the very definition of calm and collected, so nervous?

“We want you, Sanji.”

It’s Zoro this time, the timber of his voice nearly reverberating in his bones as he becomes aware of how close the man stands behind him. You nod in agreeance.

Sanji’s brain short-circuits.

What?

Did he hear that right? You both wanted him?

Sanji searches your face for any inkling of deception but your cheeks are flush and you avoid his eyes out of nervousness.

“Don’t over think this.” Zoro murmurs into his ear, hot breath fanning over the sensitive skin. The other man’s large hands come from behind him and roam on his chest, going over the silky fabric of his suit. The action pulls him in closer to Zoro, sending shivers up his spine. It doesn’t take long for Sanji to make up his mind.

So be it.

He’ll take whatever scraps you have to offer him. Maybe if he gets a taste, it’ll be out of his system, and he’ll be free to pursue all the beautiful men and women he encounters in his travels. Maybe if he closes his eyes, he can imagine that this is something more than just sex.

He continues to feed himself the shallow lies.

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

At his affirmation, Sanji feels hand on his head, turning him into a hungry kiss. Chapped lips meet his and Sanji can faintly taste the sweetness of sake on Zoro’s breath. It’s everything Sanji has dreamed of. In the midst of their kiss, Sanji feels your hands undoing his tie, and unbuttoning his jacket and dress shirt. An impatient tongue spears into his mouth, coaxing his own tongue into a dance, drawing a moan from the blond man. A hot tongue presses into his neck and he can’t help the gasp that rises to his lips. In contrast to Zoro, your lips are soft and silky. You stamp fire into his skin with every kiss, setting his body into flames.

Breathless, he breaks the kiss with Zoro only to have you pull him into another one, gentler but no less voracious.

He’s aware of Zoro helping him shed his shirt and jacket, but his head feels stuffed with cotton, not quite to registering any of it. A soft tongue mingles with Sanji’s and delicate hands caress the bare skin of his chest, each movement leaving gooseflesh in its wake. The light flicks to his nipples have him groaning into your mouth. The kiss breaks with a soft sigh from you, and Zoro surges forward to capture you a playful kiss, sandwiching Sanji between the two of you. The friction of the two bodies, one soft and one sturdy, melts his mind, his pants feeling tighter by the moment.

A larger rougher set of hands replace the soft ones on his chest as you kneel in front of Sanji, making quick work of his belt. You lavish his abs with floaty kisses and occasional playful nibbles, following down the trail of soft downy hair until you reach his boxers. You make quick work of that too, freeing his erection.

You nearly drool of the sight Sanji’s cock slapping against his belly, marking a spot on his belly with shiny precum. His cock is picturesque, like the men of the dirty magazines you used to buy as a teenager, a few shades darker than his porcelain skin leading into a dusky pink tip oozing slick. You give an experimental lick up the shaft before engulfing the tip in your mouth, making circles over it with your tongue. Sanji throws his head back, gracing you with a breathy pretty groan.

The salty taste of his precum ignites a fire deep in you, a need to taste more overcomes every sense. Driven by your baser instincts, you press down further, taking as much as you could until you feel him hit the back of your throat, eyes welling with tears as you try to stave off your gag reflex. His delicate fingers tangle into your hair, hands resting on your head. Pressed so close to Sanji his pubic hair tickles your lips and you can smell the clean rich sandalwood of his soap. You set a slow pace, looking up through dark lashes to observe Sanji’s expressions as he loses himself in the feeling of your mouth. Each circle of your tongue over the tip has him whimpering, his cheeks and chest flushed pink.

Not to be left out, Zoro joins you, kneeling in front of the blond man. You release his cock with a pop and stroke it lightly.

“Want a taste?”

Zoro gives a devilish smirk, coming in closer. He gives the tip kitten licks before slowly taking more of the length in his mouth.

“Tastes good doesn’t it?”

A muffled response has you grinning. You take a few moments take your own clothes off, only stopping to appreciate the sight of Zoro pouring his attention to Sanji’s cock. The contrast of the two men bubbles excitement in you, a longing finally quenched. Zoro is all muscle, posture and stance reflecting power and brutality, but Sanji’s is refined elegance, fluid even while motionless, muscles seemingly sculpted by a maestro.

Kneeling back down, you throw yourself into the fray of saliva and skin, taking one of Sanji’s balls into your mouth, earning a loud groan from the man. The two males’ intermingling musk cloying in your head, fogging up any thought you could muster. Sanji’s hips buck and Zoro gags, pulling another moan from the blond. You slowly suckle, running circles on the surface of his ball sack with your tongue before releasing it to lick up the shaft. Zoro meets you in a messy kiss with Sanji’s cock in the middle of two pairs of lips. Your tongues dance over the veiny surface of Sanji’s dick, occasionally skimming each other.

Sanji wants to throw his head back, to lose himself in the sensation of two mouths lavishing him with attention but he’s caught up in the sight of you and Zoro, your tongues fighting on his cock, hoping to find more skin to lick and suck at. The two of you work in synch, soon moving upward to suckle at the reddened tip of his cock.

“S-stop or I’ll cum” Sanji whines out, making you and Zoro share a laugh, shifting away from his sensitive cock to find each other in a kiss.

Feeling emboldened by the sexually charged energy, you saunter over to the bed, sitting and spreading your legs wide open. Sanji practically drools at the sight, stumbling over the clothes on the floor to get in closer.

Sanji slots himself between your legs, moving closer to kiss you. His lips are soft, and the hints of lingering tobacco pull you in for more. Sanji’s tender affection is a deluge you drown in, heart full you reciprocate keenly. He peppers kisses down your jawline before interspersing tender open mouth kisses on your neck. A hot tongue trails down further before capturing a nipple between his teeth. His actions are delicate, but they draw whimpers out of you, heat pooling between your thighs at the teasing. Sanji’s strong hands cup your breasts, massaging softly as his tongue runs circles around your hard nipples, dousing them in messy suckles.

He offers the same treatment to your other breast before trailing more kisses down until his head is settled between your thighs. You can feel his hot breath, a gossamer on your sensitive skin. The flat of his tongue licks a stripe through your folds and your back arches at the contact.

“Fuck angel, you’re so wet” he murmurs before diving back in, tongue working through your folds before encircling your clit.

“Mm fuck Sanji”, moans pour out of you endlessly, your hands tangling themselves in the golden silk of his hair.

His strong hands hold your hips steady as he begins to suckle at your clit, giving occasional kitten licks, as anticipated, the action has you bucking your hips, thighs tightening around his head as he tightens the coil in your loins, nerves dancing on fire.

Zoro’s calloused hands run over Sanji’s torso, earning a shiver from the man. His fingertips take time to appreciate the valley of muscles before moving to his hips, propping them up into position. Sanji is a mess of gooseflesh as rough fingers part his cheeks, exposing him to the other man. A hot tongue presses on his hole and Sanji lets out a gasp that’s muffled in your skin. The sensation is foreign as the tongue wriggles against his tight hole, but pleasure quickly finds him. Zoro’s tongue circles around his puckered hole, massaging and working the muscle, each move deliberate in driving Sanji further into a chasm of pleasure until he’s relaxed. Zoro intersperses it with licks from the flat of his tongue, the contrast drawing out whimpering moans from the blond. When he pulls away, Sanji whines.

“Get these wet for me.”

Sanji complies, taking his head out from your cunt to take Zoro’s digits in his mouth, tongue running over each individual one. Zoro grins at the sight of Sanji desperately sucking on his fingers while his goatee shines with your slick.

A whine from you has Zoro withdrawing his fingers from the other man’s hot mouth, allowing him to return to your needy hole.

Sanji returns to lavishing your clit with licks, before plunging a tongue deep in you hoping to taste more of your essence. Pressure against his puckered hole pauses him in the middle of his pussy eating. Your thighs tighten around him as you buck desperately against his mouth, hoping to find more friction despite his lack of action.

The breech of a large finger pulls a sound out of him, a mixture of a moan and a scream. You offer your own moan at the vibrations of Sanji’s on your clit.

Zoro presses kisses onto the skin of his buttocks, rubbing soothing circles on his skin as Sanji adjusts to the foreign intrusion. Slowly, he begins to rock his finger back and forth, occasionally stopping to spit on Sanji’s hole, an action that has the man’s dick twitching.

“Don’t worry Sanji he’ll be gentle. Won’t you marimo?” you tease, tone breathy from your own arousal at seeing Zoro knuckle deep in Sanji.

“We’ll see about that.”

Sanji turns to tell Zoro off, but the aforementioned man’s free hand grabs his head, shoving him back into your cunt, earning a squeal from you.

“Focus Sanji” Zoro gravels out, voice thick with lust. You snake your legs around Sanji’s head, heels resting on his mid back.

“He’s right Sanji, wanna cum so bad”

As if to demonstrate your need, your hips buck into his open mouth, hoping to find a tongue to grind into. Ever the gentleman, Sanji grants your request, eating you out with renewed vigor.

Zoro continues to work his fingers into him, one finger becomes two, pumping becomes scissoring, and soon Sanji feels more stretched out than possible. Sanji lets out loud moan after moan into your clit when he feels the man continuously brush his prostate. His mouth is messy with saliva and your slick, jaw aching as he continues to devour you. You reward him with looks from dark lashes glimmering with tears, your soft skin flushed by his ministrations. Pretty whines of his name spill out from your lips, urging him on as you chase your high. Your fingers clench onto his hair, the pain from the pulling mixing with the shockwaves that Zoro’s fingers provide him.

“A-ah right there S-sanji!”

Your tighten your legs around Sanji, a loud wail escaping you, hands fisting the blankets underneath as the coil in your belly snaps. Your orgasm wracks your body, vision going dark and heartbeat in your ear. Sanji’s tongue doesn’t stop, sending pins and needles through your nerves. Tears dot the corners of your eyes as he eats your overstimulated pussy out until you’re crying his name, begging him to stop. When he relents, you pull him into a kiss, tasting your own salty juices on his lips. You swipe your fingers over his messy slick shined lips and chin, offering them to Zoro who sucks on them with enthusiasm before letting go with a pop of his mouth.

You shimmy out from under Sanji, the blond pushing himself to all fours to offer you more space. Moving off to the side, you take in the sight of Zoro greedily pumping three fingers into Sanji who’s offering himself up like a dog in heat, whimpers pouring out of his mouth. Sanji’s dick is standing tall, precum dribbling out from the tip and onto the bedsheets where you can already spy a dark wet stain forming. You wrap a hand around his cock, thumb smearing the precum as you begin to pump up and down at a torturous pace. Sanji’s head buries into the bed as he lets out a string of expletives. You and Zoro share a naughty grin.

It doesn’t take long for Sanji to start moving his hips, desperately fucking himself into Zoro’s fingers trying to plunge deeper.

Zoro pulls out of him, and you take your hand off of his cock, Sanji is left whining at the loss of contact.

He isn’t left alone for long as Zoro pushes him into the bed before flipping him around so he’s on his back. Zoro devours the sight of Sanji’s hair pooling around him in a radiant halo, his cheeks flushed pink and dick twitching for attention. You come back and pass Zoro a bottle, lowering yourself to take the man’s dick in your mouth. Sanji’s eyes are glued to the sight of you bobbing your head along the impressive length of the swordsman. He watches as Zoro’s eye closes, clearly enjoying the way you’re taking all of him in. It isn’t long before the swordsman pulls you up and into a kiss.

Jealousy grips Sanji’s heart. Brook was right, the two of you were a beautiful couple.

You take the bottle from Zoro and pour out a viscous liquid onto your fingers, soaking them in it before wrapping it around Zoro’s cock, wetting him with long strokes.

“Fuc-k babe that feels good”

You offer Zoro one final kiss, a mischievous hand coming to smack the swordsman’s bottom sending him on his way to Sanji.

Zoro slots himself between Sanji’s legs, wrapping his hands around his ankles before yanking him, moving him closer to the edge of the bed. For the first time Sanji’s cock presses into Zoro’s and it twitches in excitement, the blond shudders at the contact. Zoro captures his lips into a kiss and Sanji loses himself in it. Sea salt and steel invade his senses, wiping his mind blank of every thought. Rough hands find their way to his slender hips, rubbing circles along the bone. Slim smaller fingers press against his hole, taking time to slather him in the same viscous liquid.

When Zoro breaks the kiss, Sanji opens his eyes, taking in the sight of the swordsman on top of him.

“You ready?”

He isn’t, but Sanji nods.

The blunt tip of Zoro’s cock on his hole startles him, and for the first time he begins to wonder how in the fuck he’s supposed to take all of it inside of him.

Then the push comes, a groan is ripped from his chest as Zoro breaches his tight hole for the first time. Sanji feels panic well inside of him. He’s going to be torn in two, there’s no doubt about it. The blond squirms in discomfort, and you’re quick to notice, kissing his tears away, interlacing your fingers with his.

“Shhh, it’s okay baby. You’re doing so good, such a good boy for us”

Zoro takes it at Sanji’s pace, allowing the blond to adjust to the stretch. One hand steadies his hip and the other strokes his calf, bringing it closer so the green haired man can press kisses into the pale skin.

Through the pain and panic, Sanji finds himself delusional. With his eyes closed and brain shut off, he imagines this is what it would be like to be loved by the both of you, drowning him in sweet nothings, soft kisses, and praises of what a good boy he is.

It takes a deliberate amount of self-control for Zoro to inch in slowly, the sight of Sanji’s greedy hole swallowing his shaft has anticipation pumping through his veins. He finds himself resisting the urge to pin the blond down and ravage him right there, to stretch his hole out so fully that it molds itself to the shape of Zoro’s cock and his alone. It isn’t long before he finds himself full sheathed, Sanji clenching around his dick, sending mind numbing pleasure into Zoro.  

He holds him there, offering more time to adjust as he holds the blond’s hips steady. Letting go of Sanji’s hand, you happily move into the mix of bodies, sitting on top of Sanji, a hand guiding his length into you. As the tip of his dick enters you, Sanji throws his head back, wailing into his fist as he tries to quiet himself. Slowly, you sink into his length, engulfing him with tight searing heat. You’re tighter than he expected. You lean back, pressing your back into Zoro’s muscle bound chest as you turn to give him a kiss. He moans into your mouth as your tongues meld into each other.

In need of friction, you start a slow pace, moving up and down on Sanji’s length.

“F-fuck, oh my fucking g-god, feels ‘sgood” Sanji slurs out, tongue lolling and mind blank.

Zoro pulls from your kiss to start pumping into Sanji, ever impatient he fucks the blond with aggression. Unabashedly, the swordsman lets out a groan at the feeling, Sanji gripping his cock like a vise.

“Yer so fucking tight for me babe”

The blond isn’t shy about making noises, screams and moans mixing together as they leave his mouth. Zoro’s finger’s dig into the man’s hips to gain more purchase as he thrusts particularly deep, punching the air out of Sanji’s lungs, his legs spasming as Zoro jabs into his prostate. His body seizes, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he babbles out nonsense.

Sanji can’t think, he can barely breath with Zoro’s cock bullying him out of air only for your tight pussy to greedily clench, only allowing him short gasps of breath. He loses himself entirely in the feeling of being thoroughly used by the two of you, drool leaking out of the side of his mouth as eyes stare unfocused.

Sanji’s dick curves and hits the most sensitive parts of you, brushing along your g-spot as you bounce up and down on him, desperately chasing your own high.

“S-sanji, your cock f-feels so good baby”

Your words begin to slur as you feel the beginnings of an orgasm gather in your loins.

Sanji is the first to cum, letting out a loud wail as he bucks his hips upward, shooting his cum deep inside of you. The feeling of his warm cum flooding you makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, you keep riding him through his orgasm, oversensitive cock still hard as you grind down on it, losing yourself in the pleasure of his spongy dick tip grinding into your cervix. Zoro’s hand snakes around your hips, fingers pinching and rolling your clit, sending fireworks of pleasure into your spine, you hold onto Sanji, nails digging deep. Zoro’s thrusts get deeper, rocking you and Sanji. His breathing is choppy, moans spilling out of his lips as Zoro chases his own high.

Fireworks burst behind your eyelids as you feel the orgasm wrack your body, tears gathering in your eyes as your moan stutters in your throat. Sanji whimpers as your pussy milks his oversensitive cock for more cum. Zoro’s arm wraps around your waist and the other on Sanji’s thigh as he pulls both of you closer, the coil buried deep in his belly threatening to snap. He picks up the pace, relentlessly hammering inside of Sanji, the movement causing Sanji’s dick to rub the sensitive tissue of your cervix, gushing out the cum deep inside of you. The tight friction of Sanji’s hole is delicious as Zoro gives the last few pumps before burying himself as deep as possible in the blond, head resting on the crook of your neck as he came. His loud groan is muffled in your skin, stars shoot across his vision as he paints Sanji’s walls white, belly clenching as he slowly rocks the last vestiges of his orgasm out.

The three of you fall on the bed in a mess of limbs, sweat, and body fluids. You’re out of it until you feel an arm wrapping around you, hazily recognizing it as Zoro’s, bringing you and Sanji closer to him. You press yourself into his side, craving the comfort of his embrace. Your head rests on his wide chest listening to the pounding heartbeat as he presses a kiss into your sweaty hairline.

Zoro’s heart feels full as he watches his two lovers, fully sated and thoroughly fucked, resting in his arms, the trust they put in him is implicit.

The peace is broken when Sanji breaks out of the embrace, getting out of the bed picking up pieces of various strewn about clothing. The action startles you and Zoro out of your post orgasm glow, the two of you sharing a confused look.

“Where the fuck are you going?”

Zoro’s voice cuts through Sanji’s soul. Steeling himself, he looks up at the two of you, still wrapped around each other, clearly comfortable - a comfort Sanji can’t indulge in lest he lose more of his heart.

“Ah. Well, I figured you guys had your fun, right?” he weakly chuckles.

The silence is deafening.

“No need for me to linger while you tw-“

“Sanji when we said we wanted you we meant all of you. You mean more to us than just sex, we adore you.”

His body tenses in surprise, the shock written all over his face.

Zoro leans forward, grabbing Sanji’s hand to pull him back into the mess of limbs.

“C’mere and cuddle us Sanji.”

Sanji sinks into the cuddle, hungry heart full for the first time in a long time.

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