#should i make a ship name for these two? yeah fuck it

[hauntingblue]

Gear 5 luffy's laugh is so contagious I just hear the drums and go insane how does this work. What did he do to me

[selineram3421]

can I make a request for an Alastor x reader? Where y/n is Husk's sibling and Alastor won't stop flirting with y/n and Husk is just not having it? (And the rest of the HH crew are just in the background shipping Alastor and y/n)

*swipes up* Cat Demon Reader!!!! FUCK YEAH!

Hissy Kitty

Prologue

Alastor X Reader

Warnings⚠

⚠ cussing, protective older brother Husk, Alastor loves annoying your brother, italics = thoughts ⚠

Husk was very protective of you and made sure you were taken care of. In Living and afterlife, he kept you out of his "business" to keep you safe.

Of course you surprise him by showing up at the hotel.

"What the fuck are you doing here!?"

"Surprise!", you cheered and gave your older brother a hug.

He didn't want you anywhere near his work. It was too risky. You would have been made a target. He didn't want HIM to know about you.

"Answer the question.", he grumbled but hugged you back.

"I haven't seen you in a while and I just wanted to-", you began, pulling back a bit from the hug, taking a look around the hotel lobby that was behind him.

"Look, I'll call you and tell you all about it but you need to go before-", he tried to get you to leave quickly.

"Husker!"

Shit.

He was pissed that he was too late.

"What are you doing trying to chase a guest out?", the demon in red walked over and pulled you into the hotel. "We are trying to invite them in."

"This one ain't looking to stay in the hotel!", your brother hissed and tried to pull you away from the red dressed demon.

You were suddenly spun and dipped by the man in red. It shocked you so much that you held onto the red demon tightly.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! I am Alastor the facility manager.", Alastor grinned as he gazed down at you. "And who might you be?"

Such an adorable thing. He thought when seeing your ears pinned back and eyes having turned into slits, his grin widening when he noticed Husk getting angrier.

"Um..can you let me up now? This is a very weird way of greeting..", you squirmed, your tail flicking in annoyance.

After letting you go, Alastor took note of how bristled up the fur of his acquaintance was.

How interesting..

"Forgive me dear, I can get quite theatrical.", he laughed and fixed his bowtie. "And your name?"

"I'm-"

"Not staying.", Husk cut in. "They only came to see me, now back off."

"What the hell, can't I greet a demon?", you huffed.

Your brother pulls you away to speak in private.

"Not this one! This prick is someone I don't want you hanging around with.", he whispered growled, putting his hands on your shoulders. "Go home, put some wards or some shit for protection and don't come back here again!"

"Damn it Husk!", you slapped his hands away. "I came here to check up on you!"

Alastor stays where he is to enjoy the show. Glancing to the side when seeing Angel step into the lobby.

"Its been years! I haven't heard from you until two weeks ago about this place. Where have you been!? Do you know how worried I was!?"

"Psst! Smiles! Who the fuck is kitty whiskers?", the spider asks.

"Haven't the faintest idea but this argument is getting amusing.", he responds.

"I told you that I moved! That should be enough!", Husk gestured to the hotel.

"Yeah, its nice to know you're alive but you could have at least told me how you've been! Did you make any new friends? Did you drink until you blacked out again? Something else for fucks sake!", you yelled.

"I'm alive!", your brother yelled back. "I drank yesterday!", he pushed you towards the door. "I don't have friends!", he opened the door. "Now leave!"

"Tsk tsk!", Alastor tutted and used his shadows to pull you away from the door, moving you into his hold. "They are our guest, even if they are just visiting Husker~"

The Radio Demon's smile growing bigger when he saw the cat clench his fists.

"You are welcome to visit anytime to see this-", the red demon gestures to your brother. "-hissy kitty that you know."

"Ha!", you quickly covered your mouth to keep your laugh silent.

"A smile! Finally!", Alastor leaned closer to you. "I'd like to see it if you don't mind."

"Back off!", Husk pushed the red dressed demon away and took your hand. "Come on, I'll show you around."

"I can stay!?", you asked your brother.

"Only for a few hours!", he replied.

You stayed longer than a few hours.

Charlie had caught wind and was excited to meet you.

Husk drank from his bottle, watching as you talked to the Princess and Vaggie. The two were hooked on whatever story you were telling.

"So Husky~", Angel slid over.

"Don't you fucking call me that ever again.", the cat grumbled before continuing to drink.

"Who's the new cat strolling about?", the spider asked. "I've never seen you so pushy with someone before~ Are they an ex?"

"None of your business and ew. Fuck no.", Husk wiped his mouth after he finished the bottle. "Forget about them. They need to leave anyway.", he said before walking over to you.

.

"Hi Husk!", you waved as you entered the hotel.

"Fucking shit. What did you not understand about staying away!?"

You had a smug grin and pranced over to him.

"Can't really stay away from where I work~", you said and showed your employment papers.

"What.", your brother growled.

"While I was talking to the Princess during the tour, you stepped out for a bit and I told her I wanted to work here!", you beamed, cat tail swaying calmly. "So now I can't leave! Yay!"

"Are you fucking stupid!?", Husk yelled.

"Now Husker.", Alastor appeared from the shadows behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. "That is no way to talk to your fellow coworker."

The Radio Demon smiled cheekily when seeing the cat demon's fur bristle in anger.

"Let's show you all of the staff rooms!", he said suddenly and turned you towards the stairs. "There are quite a few closets littered about for cleaning supplies! For now that is what you'll do with Niffty until the Princess can think of where to put you."

"Is there any cleaning supplies?", you asked a little suspicious.

"Haven't a clue! But let's find out!"

You were near Alastor most of the day.

Husk actually followed you both until the "tour" ended.

"And that is all of the cleaning closets so far!", the red man grinned.

All of you were now standing in one of the many hallways. The fourth floor if you remember.

"Thank you for pointing them out.", you removed his hand from your shoulder. "Little less of that if you don't mind."

"Oh! I didn't even notice.", Alastor held his hands behind his back. "Do remind me if I slip again."

Husk quickly took you away from the red demon and walked you towards the lobby.

"Look, I'm glad you're here. Really. But its not safe for you to be around that smiling asshole.", your brother hissed.

"Husk, I'm not as clueless as you think I am.", you sigh and shook his arm off. "I'll keep myself safe.", you finish and walk away.

The cat demon stayed behind, groaning as he slides his hand down his face, feeling on edge, tired, and annoyed all at once.

"I've never seen you around a demon like them~", Alastor appears from the shadows. "And you're so protective!", he walks in front of the cat demon. "What a good older brother you are.", he leans back and spins his head to look at the demon.

"Don't you fucking try anything!", Husk threatens.

The Radio Demon laughs and stands up straight. "We'll have to go over our deal again!", he says while fixing his coat. "I hope you added their protection in."

"You piece of shit-!", Husk extends his claws and opens his wings up.

"I must be off! Who knows what trouble the guests have gotten into already!", Alastor walks away from the angry cat.

The Radio Demon hummed as he walked down the hallway, a slight skip in his step as his smile grew wider.

Oh how entertaining~

I love cats💕 Also this is turning into a short story because Husk is gonna be hella pissed.

~Seline, the person.

Part 1

Taglist@

@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @gallantys @+?

ML for Alastor🎙 | ChL for HK😾

[vulturvolanss]

you pour so much richness into a character’s writing and lore and then dedicate an entire idle to ship bait

[munson-blurbs]

Thinking about Rockstar!Eddie meeting you at an autograph signing and getting off to the thought of you after his show...

“Here ya go,” Eddie says, forcing a tired smile as he hands a freshly-autographed CD to a beaming fan. Pre-show merch signings were part of the deal, and they certainly brought in the extra cash, but after five months on the road, the members of Corroded Coffin are tired. Eddie scratches at the five o’clock shadow dotting his face, glancing at his watch. Just another ten minutes until they can wrap this up and start soundcheck. Then they’ll be back on the bus, shipping off to whatever city’s up next.

The security guard lets the next two people up to the table. Eddie reaches over to the pile of CDs, giving an exasperated sigh as he asks, “Name?”

That’s when he hears your voice.

His head snaps up, and he relaxes as he takes in your shy demeanor. You’re holding the hand of your friend–girlfriend?--hey, it’s the ‘90s; anything is possible. Your eyes sparkle as you say and spell your first name, biting your lower lip and averting your gaze from the gorgeous rockstar in front of you. “Pretty name,” he murmurs, writing a short message and swirling the Sharpie over the CD cover to make his exaggerated signature. “Pretty name for a pretty girl, yeah?”

You just giggle, and the girl next to you squeezes your hand. “She’s, like, completely in love with you,” she blabbers. “Every damn day since we got these tickets, it’s been, ‘What should I wear? Do you think Eddie will notice me?’”

You free your hand to elbow her, a little harsher than you’d intended. “Dianna!” you hiss, burying your face in your palms in a feeble attempt to hide your humiliation.

But Eddie just cocks his head, checking you out from head to toe. “Oh, he definitely noticed you,” he muses, handing you the CD with two lanyards. “You ladies wanna watch backstage? ‘Course you do; Charlie will bring you where you gotta go and, uh,” he looks directly at you, sending an excited shiver down your spine, “maybe we can notice each other a bit more later.”

You and Dianna nod vigorously as the beefy security guard leads you to the backstage VIP suite. A waiter comes around and takes your drink orders. You ask for a vodka soda, and Dianna gets a Long Island iced tea.

“You sure about that?” you whisper as the waiter walks away. “Those are really strong.”

Dianna shrugs. “It’s not every day we get free drinks. Might as well drink as much as we can.”

Meanwhile, Eddie’s fumbling his way through soundcheck, thinking about the way your breasts peeked out the top of your Corroded Coffin tank top, how your denim shorts perfectly cupped your ass, the shiny gloss that emphasized your lips. God, he wants those lips wrapped around his hard, throbbing–

“Munson? You wanna get your head out of your ass so we can put on a show?” Jeff’s voice booms through his mic. 

“He’s thinking about that hot chick he gave backstage passes to,” Gareth teases, and Simon makes kissy noises at their lead singer.

Eddie launches his guitar pick in Gareth’s direction, narrowly missing his head. “Shut the fuck up, all of you,” he grumbles, but he knows that they’re right. Just get through the show and she’s all yours. He palms himself over his pants discreetly. He’s never been more grateful for his guitar, since his tight leather pants do nothing to hide his burgeoning erection.

Corroded Coffin puts on a hell of a show, as usual. They close with “Rock Hard,” their hit single about hooking up with a groupie after a concert, and Eddie thanks every celestial being that it’s the last song of the night. As soon as the band thanks the audience and says their goodbyes, Eddie dashes offstage. He bolts into your suite, all sweat and smiles. “How’d you like the–” He stops, frowning when he sees an empty room, save for Charlie, who’s smoking a cigarette in a lounge chair. “Where is she?”

“Sorry, Casanova,” Charlie drawls. “Her little friend drank too much, got sick all over the bathroom. Had to get them outta here before she ruined anything else.”

Eddie groans, throwing his head back as his bandmates laugh at his misfortune. “Goddammit,” he hisses, pushing his perspiration-soaked hair from his eyes.

“C’mon, man,” Simon claps a hand on Eddie’s back. “There’s a bar down the street; plenty of the girls from the show will be there…” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“Nah, I’m just gonna head back to the bus. ‘M pretty beat.”

“Oh, something’s getting beat tonight,” Gareth jokes. Eddie flips him off, but once again, he’s right.

He’s barely closed the curtain to his makeshift bedroom before he’s hastily unbuttoning his leather pants, shoving his ringed hand into his boxer briefs. Just the sensation of his own touch has him bucking his hips. He runs his thumb over the bead of pre-cum pearling at his tip, using it to lubricate his palm. He uses his free hand to tug his pants down to his knees, sitting on the bed. He imagines you on your knees in front of him.

“S’big, isn’t it, baby?” Eddie coos. He leans over, letting a trail of saliva drip from his mouth to his shaft. “Thas’ right, spit on it. Such a dirty fuckin’ girl.” He grips the bedsheet with his left hand, dragging his right from base to tip. 

“What’s that? You want it in your mouth? Oh, pretty girl; you don’t have to ask twice.”

He fucks into his fist harder, feeling himself grow in his own grasp. “Mmm, let me make a mess of that face. Ruin that fuckin’ makeup you worked so hard on. Wanted me to notice you; well, I sure fuckin’ did. Knew I had to have you, sweet thing.” If you were actually here, you’d be gagging on his dick as your nose grazes the thatch of curls on his pevlis, tears reflexively gathering at the corners of your eyes. Your mascara would start to run; the telltale sign of a good blowjob.

He loosens his hold on the sheet, cupping his balls. “If you do that, ‘m gonna bust in that sinful mouth of yours, fuckin’ swear.” A harsh chuckle escapes his throat. “Bet you’d like that. Bet you’d take my whole load down your throat, swallow it all, yeah?”

Eddie brings himself right to the edge before forcing himself to slow down. “I know, baby. I know you wanna keep sucking me off. But I wanna–no, I gotta be in that perfect little pussy. Now, come sit on my cock. Nice and slow–thassit.” He tightens his grip on his length, keeping a slow rhythm to mimic the feeling of gradually filling you up. “You can take it, don’t worry. I’ve got you, baby girl.”

He bites his lower lip so hard that he swears it might bleed. “Oh, angel. Y’feel even better than I ever imagined, holy fuck.” He increases his pace, choking out a pathetic moan. “What’s that? You want me to come inside you? So desperate f’me, aren’t you?” He whimpers at the mental image of you bouncing on his cock, tits pressed up against the dusting of hair on his chest. “Come with me, fuck, wanna make you come. Want you to cream my cock while I fuckin’ fill you up.” Eddie lets out one last pornographic moan as thick, hot ropes of cum spurt out onto his thick fingers. He pants, trying to catch his breath as he comes down from the high of his orgasm.

Cleaning himself up, Eddie grumbles to himself about your stupid drunk friend and how he’s so tired of fucking his own hand. He falls asleep quickly, worn out from the combination of the concert and his own post-show escapades.

The next morning, Eddie wakes up and wipes the sleep from his eyes. The bus driver has already set out for their next destination, somewhere in Bumblefuck. Eddie doesn’t care, he just wants you. Real you, not the fantasy he’d conjured up last night.

“Hey, boss,” Charlie says when Eddie pads out to the bus’s common space. “Forgot to give this to you after the show.” He hands him a folded piece of paper, which reads:

Eddie:

Had to get Dianna home before she puked on the carpet. I was not paying for that to be replaced–the tickets for your autograph already bankrupted me…

But if you wanna stop by my hotel room later, just give me a call. I don’t think you were done noticing me. I certainly wasn’t done noticing you. 

xo

You signed your name with a glossy lip print and your hotel room extension.

“Charlie,” Eddie starts through gritted teeth, “if you can convince the driver to turn this bus around, I won’t fire you.”

--

[pedroshotwifey]

Beg For It

Pairing: Virgin!Din Djarin x afab!reader

Word count: 3.9k

Tags/warnings: piv sex, oral (m), cock worship, virgin din, premature ejaculation, teasing, humiliation, sub din, dom reader, degradation, cockpit sex™, embarrassment, age gap (younger reader), din djarin's monster cock, helmet stays on, pet names, snarky reader, experienced reader, stuff I'm forgetting (c'mon guys, it's me.)

Summary: You make a shocking discovery about Din and decide to do something about it.

A/N: Hey babes! Sorry if you're waiting on TTF or FB rn, but my brain does not want to cooperate atm. TTF 4 should be out relatively soon, but I'm not sure about FB. I hope you like this fic, bc I have no idea where it came from 🤣 My asks are always open in the meantime!!

***

“Fuck, it’s tight in here,” you complain as you stuff yourself into the small alcove exposed by the panel that was just removed from the Crest’s wall. 

“And a fucking mess. Do you ever organize this shit, Din?” 

The exasperated sigh that comes from behind you is enough to answer your question. 

You roll your eyes as you reach for the tangled ball of wires in front of you. No wonder the lights have been flickering. You’re lucky it wasn’t anything worse than that. 

“Who would even be doing this shit if you didn’t have me? Not like your broad ass could fit in here.” 

Mando scoffs behind you. 

“We got along perfectly fine before you,” he argues. “Grogu could fit in there, I’d have him do it.” 

Now it’s your turn to laugh. 

“Yeah, that would go over well.” 

Din ignores your quip as he comes up to your side and nudges you with his boot. 

“Hey! Can you not?” You turn your head to bite out at him even though he can’t see you. 

“Scootch over,” he demands. “I need to see what you’re doing so you don’t blow the ship up or something.” 

“Wow, it’s really reassuring to know how much faith you have in me, Mando.”

You swear you hear him bite down on a laugh and you smile despite yourself. You squash yourself to the side as much as you can, allowing a small gap so Din can peek in beside you. He groans as he lowers himself to his belly. 

“Poor old man,” you can’t help but tease. “Bad knees getting to you?” 

“Shut up,” Din quips. 

You don’t actually know how old Din is, but you’re placing your bets on late thirties or early forties. Definitely older than you either way, but not quite old enough to be deserving of your quips. That’s not going to stop you, of course. 

By the time he’s looking inside, you’ve untangled the mess of wires and separated the two that need to be switched. 

“Damn it, Mando, you’re blocking my light. I can’t see shit.” 

He sighs for the umpteenth time today. 

“Really? There’s plenty of light,” he argues. 

“Yeah, maybe when you have a fucking night vision mod in your helmet. Get up and tell me what to do from there.” 

He obeys but you swear you hear him mutter something about being bossy through a groan. 

“What have you done so far?” 

“I’ve separated the red and blue wires from the rest.” 

“Okay, go ahead and pull them both from their outlets.” 

You try to pull them off, but you can’t quite reach the outlets on the back wall. 

“Damn it,” you mutter. 

You shove your knees under yourself and arch your back in attempt to push yourself further into the wall. Straining a bit, you’re able to grasp both ends and successfully tug them towards yourself. 

“Got it, what now?” 

“Put the red wire where the blue wire was, and the blue where the red was,” Mando instructs. His voice sounds much raspier than it had a second ago, making you quirk a brow. 

“You okay there?” you ask as you finish the task. 

“Yup,” he croaks. 

“Okay, I’m coming out.” 

You start to wriggle yourself back, and you hear Din make a strangled sound before biting down on it. It’s not until you feel your ass waggling with your movement that you realize what has him so worked up. A sly smirk quickly spreads across your face as you decide there’s no harm in teasing him a bit. 

You groan and arch your back further as you back out, your ass up in the air as much as you can get it. You take your sweet time sitting up once you're out, and you can almost feel the heat coming from Mando by the time you do. You turn around to face him only to find that he’s avoiding your gaze, his hands clasped together casually in front of his crotch. You honestly wonder who he thinks he’s fooling—there’s not much that could hide a tent that size. 

“What’s the matter, big boy?” you ask sweetly. “You look a bit flustered.” 

“N-nothing.” 

You have to physically bite down on your lip to avoid laughing at his voice crack. You’ve never heard him struggle so much. He clears his throat and tries again. 

“Nothing’s wrong, cyar’ika.” 

“Hm. You sure? Because I’m pretty sure you were checking my ass out a second ago.” 

Din chokes on nothing as soon as the words are out of your mouth. 

“I was not!” He bites out in a panicked tone. 

“Nothing wrong with it, I get it. I’d check out my ass, too,” you laugh and shrug. He looks down at his feet and your brows furrow. This might be the most flustered you’ve ever seen him. 

“Dude, it was just an ass, not a big deal. I’m sure you’ve seen much more than that,” you chuckle lightly. 

He slowly looks up at that, and time comes to a stop as things click into place in your head. 

“Holy shit,” you say, bewildered. “You haven’t seen more than that. You’re a virgin aren’t you?” 

You grin when he says nothing in response. No fucking way the Mandalorian hasn’t fucked or been fucked before. Hell, you’ve wanted to fuck him since you came aboard this junk pile of a ship. Damn, you’re going to take this opportunity and fucking run with it. 

“Poor baby Din, never had pussy before,” you coo at him as you stand all the way up. “What’s the matter? Is it too small? Maybe you don’t even like pussy. You want a big strong man to fuck your ass?” You know you’re just spouting anything you think might get under his skin at this point. 

“N-no,” he bites out, though there’s not much conviction behind it. You continue walking towards him, forcing him toward the cockpit’s pilot seat. 

“No? You don’t like cock, Din?” 

“I think you need some help, big guy. You clearly need someone to dominate you, since you don’t have the balls to step up yourself. You’re lucky I’m here, I can show you how good it can be.”

Din’s hands move closer to his clothed cock to hide the twitch that ensues from your words. You see the movement and it only spurs you on. He gulps again as you keep walking toward him.

“No, I-”

“Take a seat, Mando.” 

He crosses his arms and stands up straighter, leveling you with a defiant stare you can practically feel through his beskar helmet. 

“I will do no such thing.” 

“Oh,” you reply, crossing your arms and returning the look. “But you will.”

You glance down at the impressive bulge in his flight suit, smirking when you catch him shift ever so slightly under the weight of your gaze. 

“I think you want to sit down for me, Mando. And I think you’re going to be begging for my cunt by the time I’m done with you.”

You take a step toward him, and you can see the subtle way he stops himself from taking a step back in response. You stop in front of him and let your hand down to graze his covered length. There’s a sharp intake of breath barely heard throughout the hull. If you had been standing where you were a few seconds ago, you would have missed it. 

“Sounds like you already want to, actually.” 

You cup him fully now, and a strangled sound slips through his tightly sealed lips. 

“Poor little virgin Din, doesn’t even know how good he could have been feeling all this time,” you tease, giving him a light squeeze. 

“S-stop,” he grits out, uncrossing his arms to grab your wrist with one hand. Your movements come to a swift stop. 

“Ask me again, and I will,” you tell him. “But I don’t think you really want that, do you? I think you want to stick your dick inside my warm pussy and come your dumb little brains out.”

There’s a brief silence as you stare each other down, and you can almost feel the way he starts to consider his options. 

“I-”

You give him another squeeze, tighter this time, and his hips buck forward as another animalistic sound tumbles from his tongue. 

“Fuck, please,” Din whines as he gives up trying to hold back. You grin wildly at the sound. 

“Please, what, Din? What do you want?” 

“P-please fuck me!” 

Your hand flattens against him and starts to rub sensually up and down, giving him enough friction to have him shivering with each pass. 

“Okay, baby. Sit down like I told you to, and I’ll take care of you.” 

He nods as you start to lead him backwards, the back of his knees hitting the cockpit chair and forcing him to follow your instructions. 

“What a good boy,” you lean forward to coo at the side of his helmet, right where his ear would be. “Why don’t you take your cock out for me?” 

You push yourself away from him, your hands placed on either arm rest as you lean over him. Din hesitates for a moment, clearly not used to the kind of vulnerability you’re asking him to surrender. 

“Go ahead, baby. I promise I won’t make fun.” In fact, you know you won’t. Judging by the massive tent in his pants, there is absolutely no way that Din Djarin is anywhere near small. Not that you’ll tell him that, of course. 

You stare intently as he gulps and lets his hands trail down to unbuckle his belt and shakily pull his zipper down, revealing his boxers. He waits a beat before pulling himself completely out, and you have to fight to keep your jaw from dropping when he does. 

“Holy shit, Djarin,” you gawk. “Well, your dick definitely wasn’t the problem. Scared some people off if anything.” Honestly, it almost scares you. You don’t think your hand could even fully wrap around it if you grabbed it right now. 

You look back to his helmet, making what you hope is eye contact. Judging by the way he shifts in the seat, you’re pretty sure you’re spot-on. 

“You’re so pretty, Din. It’s a shame nobody’s ever told you.” 

“T-thank you,” he breathes, his head turning slightly. 

“I want you to put your hands on the armrests while I show you how pretty I think you are.” 

He hesitates, obviously still not sure about any of this. 

“Go ahead,” you prompt. “Unless you want me to cuff you to the damn chair.” 

At this, he quickly obeys your request and lets his hands go to grip the rests. His cock slaps up, hard and leaking against his covered stomach. He twists his neck all the way to the side, avoiding eye contact as much as he can manage. As much as he’s resisting giving in, you can see how his chest heaves with desire. In this case, the lust is simply stronger than the embarrassment. 

You quickly bring a hand up to grab at the bottom of his helmet, roughly jerking his head back to look at you. 

“You’re going to watch me while I suck your cock. If I see you look away, you’re not going to like what happens after.” 

Din shivers and nods, shaken slightly by your authoritative tone. 

“Say ‘yes, ma’am’.” 

You watch his throat bob as he gulps down his nervousness. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he breathes out. 

“See, you can be such a good boy when you put your mind to it.”

You slink down to your knees and place your hands on his thick, tense thighs. With your eyes level with his cock, you’re able to watch the way a spurt of precum dribbles down from the tip. 

“Look at that, baby. Little dick is drooling already and I haven’t even touched you.” 

Din tenses and clenches his hand but makes a point not to look away. Good, at least you know he’s listening. Who knew how easy it is to tame a Mandalorian? A little humiliation and degradation can go a long way. 

You lean forward, grabbing hard onto his thighs in reminder to keep his hands where they are as you stick your tongue out to scoop up the precum leaking down his shaft. His hips jut forward, and you swear you hear a quiet whine from his helmet. You can’t help but chuckle lightly.

You decide not to waste your time with little licks, and instead lean forward to take his entire tip into your mouth. Now you definitely hear a whine. You struggle to shove more of him into your mouth and down your throat, his girth making it much more of a task than it needs to be. 

You can feel yourself getting wetter just from the thought of how deliciously he would stretch you out in other places. It really is a damn shame he’s kept this absolute monster tucked away for so long. 

His fingers twitch at the same time his head slams back into the headrest, though he keeps it angled down so he can keep watching you. You have to swallow a few times to work him all the way down, and by that time you can almost feel the way he’s tightened up to restrain himself. 

You take pity on him and pull back, resisting the urge to gag as his weight drags across your throat again. A string of spit connects you to his shiny cock as you smirk up at him. 

“Tell me how it feels, sweet boy.” 

“F-feels s-so good, c-cyare,” Din squeaks. 

“Yeah, you want more?” 

He nods furiously and you immediately flick the tip of his swollen cock, earning you a strangled yelp as his hips buck wildly. 

“What’s the matter? Finally got your dick wet and suddenly you forget how to speak?” 

He begins to shake his head before catching himself and giving you a verbal response. 

“N-no–I mean, yes, yes I want more! Please touch me,” he thrusts his hips forward again, though you're not sure if it’s voluntary or not. 

“Alright, since you asked so nicely.” 

You quickly grasp him and start to pump him furiously, leaning to him again to drool on his tip. The extra lubricant makes your hand glide more smoothly, your pace picking up to the point where you can see his balls drawing up. 

You work your mouth in tandem with your fist, worshiping his throbbing cock with open mouthed kisses and gentle nips on the exposed skin. You close your eyes for a second to savor the way he feels between your lips, and the salty flavor that graces your tongue. If you died with Din Djarin’s dick in your mouth, you would die a happy woman.

“C-cyare, I-” 

He cuts himself off as you quickly pull yourself away, leaving him with nothing but your cooling spit to focus on. 

“No, no, no–ung–I, p-please!” 

You laugh at him as he thrusts up, trying to find some kind of friction. His voice sounds wet, almost like there are tears in his eyes. 

“Aww,” you stand back to admire his writhing body. “Poor thing can’t remember anything but ‘please’. That’s cute. Not hard to get you dumb, is it, Mando?” 

You start to strip in front of him, and his hands come up from the armrests. 

“You better not be moving your fucking hands, Din,” you warn. “I know where you keep those damn binders, don’t think I won’t use them.” 

He groans but lets his wrists back down. His feet shift instead since there’s nothing else he’s able to move at the moment. He whines again as your top comes off with your bra, and then your pants with your panties. 

Fully naked and obviously soaked, you stalk toward him yet again, stopping to place your hand on his shoulder as you climb into his lap, careful not to touch his cock just yet. You settle your thighs over the tops of his and spread your legs. 

When you look up at him, he’s staring you back in your eyes, refusing to look down. You smirk once you realize why. 

“Don’t get shy on me now, baby boy,” you say. “Go ahead and look at my pussy, I know you want to.” 

You watch him slowly lower his gaze and breathe out a curse once it lands on your seam. Leaning forward, you whisper again to the side of his helmet. 

“You can move a hand, Din. Spread me open.” 

He visibly trembles at your command but lifts an arm none-the-less. You feel his fingers trail gently down to where you want him, but he stops just short. 

“T-take my glove off, please. Want to feel you, cyar’ika.” 

You smile at him and carefully bring his hand up to pull his glove off, his dick twitching as you do so. You lick your lips as a tanned and scarred hand is revealed. It’s ridiculous how attracted you are to that simple appendage. You wish you could see his entire body, but you know that’s not a likely scenario. 

Once his glove is discarded on the floor, he moves back to your cunt and sucks in a harsh breath as he feels you. 

“You’re s-so wet,” he says in a way that makes you unsure if he meant to say it out loud or not.

You laugh quietly and guide his hand so that he can prod at your hole, to which he chokes. 

“That’s all because of you, sweet boy.” 

You move your hips forward, and his fingers slip through your seam, your slick collecting on the rough pads. You grasp his wrist to bring his hand to your lips, opening your mouth to suck your tang of the digits at the same time as you let your pussy push against the underside of Din’s cock. 

Another animalistic noise accompanies the way his entire body jolts at the sudden contact. With a pop, you pull his fingers from your mouth to make room for the giggle that bubbles up from your throat. 

“Poor baby’s so sensitive!” you exclaim as you grind against him, making him groan with each pass. Both of his hands grip down hard, one on the rest and the other on your thigh. The man has a fucking grip, you’re sure there will be five little bruises littered across your skin tomorrow. You wonder how good that grip would feel on your hips as he drills himself into you from the back, and file that thought back for another day. 

You shudder as his tip bumps up against your clit, sending little shocks up your spine and making you dizzy. 

“Gonna fuck you now, baby boy,” you breathe. “You want that? Want to stick your cock inside me?” 

“I-ungh-yes, yes!” 

“Yeah?” you ask as you keep up your movements. “Beg for it.” 

“P-please,” Din asks a bit too quietly for your liking. You would bet all the credits you won that he’s blushing under that armor right now.

“Oh, come on now, you can do better than that.” 

There’s a short moment where you think Din isn’t going to do it, and a lump of disappointment gets stuck in your throat. Luckily, he doesn’t make you sit with it for too long. 

“Please, please put my d-dick in your pussy, want to feel you, please! I-I can’t–I want–”

In the middle of his babbling, you lift yourself up and line his cock with your entrance, slowly lowering yourself down. His hands fly to your hips at the same time his thoughts fly from his brain, unable to think of anything but the way your tight pussy is parting to welcome his fat tip. 

He’s never felt anything quite this pleasurable before, the sensation nearly blinding him as you work yourself down onto him. 

Your head tilts back as Din holds onto your hips for dear life. The combination of that pressure along with the burn from his cock stretching you out is almost too much. You can feel a heat bubbling at the base of your spine, and he’s not even all the way inside of you yet. 

“Oh, god, that’s so good, Din. You’re so good.” 

He whimpers in response, though part of that may be due to the fact that your hips are now flush to his. You’re both panting, a sheen of sweat coating both of your bodies. You can’t see the perspiration on Din, but you can feel the moist heat emanating from him. 

You open your eyes, not realizing they had been closed in the first place. You’ve never been this fucking full in your life. You swear you can feel him all the way up to your throat.

“M–plea–please move,” Din begs and lets his helmet rest on your forehead. His entire body is shaking with the effort of not blowing his load too quickly. 

You grant his request, starting to rock your hips as you bring a hand to settle on his neck, delighted to find a damp mess of curls peeking out from his helmet at the nape. Din gasps as you tug lightly while lifting your hips. 

You start a slow but steady rhythm, your skin slapping against each other each time you bottom out. His heavy cock drags against your walls, making your toes curl. A little whine sneaks out from Din’s concealed lips every time you sink down on him. 

A lewd moan tumbles from your lips as you feel him punch against your cervix, tucking in further than you’ve ever been able to reach before. 

“Fuck, Din! You’re so deep, baby!” 

“I’m not g-going to last l-long, Meshla,” Din strains. 

You ride him harder, taking that as a challenge. The tight thatch of hair at the base of his cock catches on your clit as you slam down on him, bringing you further to the brink. Something white hot flashes within your body, blinding you momentarily. 

You’re not even able to tell him you’re close too before you’re clamping down on him, and he’s shouting as he loses control. Your moans tangle together as you soak his dick, your legs trembling unlike you’ve ever experienced before. 

Din wraps his arms around you as he thrusts up into you, spilling himself within your heat. You’ve never in your life seen or felt anyone come as much as he does. Every time you think he’s done, you feel another spurt of his seed clinging to your walls.

By the time you’re both coming down, your ears have started ringing and your breathing has calmed down enough for you to get a word out, though you’re not sure Mando’s quite capable of that yet. 

“Y-you good?” you manage to gasp. 

You feel Din nod against you, and give yourself permission to lean against him. You’re wrung fucking dry. If this is what it feels like when you’re on top, what might it be like when Din’s in charge? The thought makes your body shudder and your pussy quiver. You sit in silence with him for a while until he finally breaks it with a voice just above a whisper. 

“C-can we do that again?”

You laugh at hearing the last thing you expected to come from his mouth after that. 

“Fucking maker, Din.”

***

Thank you for reading!! Please consider interacting if you enjoyed this!

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Angel Dust: "How come Niffty put ME in the angel kill on sight group and not YOU, toots?!"

Vaggie: "No idea. Maybe she just likes me better?"

Niffty: "STAB STAB STAB!"

Vaggie: "Or uh, likes you better. So much she want's to stab you."

Niffty: "STABSTABSTABSTABSTAB-"

Angel Dust: "Niff- DOWN! Sheesh! Go look to ya right- go get Vag-gay over there!"

Niffty: (giggling) "ANGEL STAB! ANGEL STAB!!!"

Angel Dust: "GEEZE! Like sure my name's Angel an' whatever, but I ain't an angel?? I don't even got the wings for it! YOU look jus' like an extra bitch with your wings and eye so what the fuck! What gives!!"

Vaggie: "Wow... That's, actually a good question, Angel Dust."

Angel Dust: "YEAH WELL WHAT'S THE ANSWER MY GRIP ON THE RAILIN'S SLIPPING!!!"

Vaggie: "Hey Niffty? Why are you hunting him and not me?"

Niffty: "Charlie told me not to~"

Vaggie: "She told you not to... what?"

Niffty: "Hunt you like an ANGEL! Because of the TRAUMA, right??"

Vaggie: "Uhh, the-"

Niffty: "You're already SUFFERING and if I stabbed YOU for being an angel you'd just feel lame and sad and boooo like you deserved it even though you don't. BLEGH!" (pouts) (sticks out tongue) "Boooooring!"

Vaggie: "Yeah?" (smiling) "Charlie said that, huh."

Niffty: "She's so nice~ She didn't want me to waste my time~"

Vaggie: "Yeah. She. She really is the nicest person ever."

Niffty: (SIGH) "I guess you two match. You're not a very good BAD GIRL are you? Even with having been an exorcist! What a WASTE!"

Charlie: (hugging gf from behind) "I know right? I love hugging her around the middle! She has a very lovely everything!"

Niffty: "NO!!!! NOT WHAT I MEANT!"

Vaggie: "Waste as in wasted bad girl potential, babe, not hug zones."

Charlie: "Oh!"

Niffty: "A tragedy." (heaves sigh) "Oh well..."

Niffty: (turns) (lifts knife) (Grins) "Ohhhh Angellll Dusssst~"

Angel Dust: (SCREAMING)

Vaggie: (softly) "Charlie..?"

Charlie: "I don't think she can really reach him up there... Hm?"

Vaggie: "Thanks. The... the angel thing..."

Charlie: "Shhh." (squeezes) "You are NOT the stabable kind of angel. Even Niffty gets that. See?"

Chaggie: (watches a gleeful knife waving niffty bouncing around under a terrified and dangling angel dust)

Charlie: ".... um."

Vaggie: "Damn she's catching air."

Charlie: "And Angel Dust's grip is a bit less than I thought it'd be. Do you think you should maaaaybe use your pretty angel wings to save him?"

Vaggie: "Fuck no. Let Husk do it."

Charlie: "Husk??? Why would Husk be the one to-"

Vaggie: (pats charlie's hand) "You've got your ships babe and I've got mine."

Charlie: "Oh please- I kow you think Pentious being sweet on Cherri is cute too! I've HEARD you give him tips!"

Vaggie: "Those? Just survival tactics."

Charlie: "More like how to survive liking a girl tactics."

Vaggie: "Well I guess me and you are in the same boat there anyway... Aren't we?"

Charlie: "A ship not a boat and always, Vaggie. Always."

Angel Dust: "WILL YA SAPPHICS STOP CUDDLIN' AND WHISPERIN' SWEET NOTHIN'S AND HELP ME!?"

Niffty: "ARE YOU AN ANGEL CAKE??? ARE YOU DONE? LET ME STAB YOU AND FIND OUT!!!"

Vaggie: "...."

Charlie: "So where's his Husk in shining armor?"

Vaggie: "Sloshed armor. I never said it was a good otp, sweetie."

Charlie: "I'll check the bar. You?"

Vaggie: "Will make sure Angel Dust doesn't end the night with more holes than he started with."

Charlie: "I'm gonna miss hugging you the entire time I'm gone~"

Vaggie: "Me too. Hurry or I'll leave our porn star to his fate."

Angel Dust: "OH FOR FUCKS SAKE LET GO ALREADY!"

Niffty: "You FIRST!!! MUWAHAHAH!"

Charlie: (slowly letting go) "The things we do for our friends..."

Vaggie: "Hey, look on the bright side. We can have another heartfelt make out session once we're meet back up again."

Charlie: "-HUUUUSSSK WHERE ARE YOU? FUCKING WAKE UP! THERE ARE ROMANTIC EVENT FLAGS GOING OFF ALL OVER THE DAMN PLACE AND I WANNA KISS MY GIRLFRIEND! HuUUUSK!!!!!!!!"

[halfvalid]

the blade daughter, pt. 3

ABOUT

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

alternate title: dracule mihawk cures your daddy issues!

rating: mature

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!dracule mihawk | live action!straw hat ensemble

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 23.6k total | 7.3k this part

description: you finally soothe the uncertainty you've had surrounding going out and making a life of your own. somewhere inside, you find the bravery to finally tell zoro how you'd feel about him.

tags: mihawk's daughter!reader, female reader, canon-typical violence, cursing, no use of 'y/n', pet names per mihawk ('dear', 'darling', 'sweetheart', 'little hawk'), emotional hurt/comfort, slow burn, kissing, confessions, a lil suggestive at the end

author’s note: ANDDDD SHE'S DONE!!! this was a wild 8 day long ride of writing, i'm a bit uncertain about the ending so please tell me what you thought of it!! hopefully you liked the fic, thank u so so much for reading.

The two of you emerged from the room a little while later. You’d finished cleaning up, and Zoro had kept you company as you cleaned both his swords and Hiru. The both of you walked together afterwards, wandering into the kitchen where Sanji had whipped up a meal. 

“We’re close to the Grand Line,” Nami reported, having apparently steered the ship far enough away from the other pirates to leave the helm alone. “Should reach the mountain by early morning.” She glanced over at you. “Kuraigana Island first, right?” 

“Yeah,” you affirmed. “The Grand Line is… screwed, though.”

“We’ll be fine,” Luffy said brightly. You just shrugged, taking a seat at the table. “Zoro! Did you get everything cleaned up?” Zoro had changed into a fresh shirt, one not so bloodstained, and he gave a curt nod. “Good. Come and eat so we can get ready for tomorrow?” 

Sanji passed you a bowl, and you let out a thin breath. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered how and when this had become your norm—it’d been a week with the Straw Hats, now, and— 

You dropped your chopsticks in your hand. It’d been a week. “Fuck,” you said, the word dropping out from between your lips before you could stop them. Your entire body had gone rigid, pink flushing up your arms and face as something burned deep inside of you. 

Everyone’s heads had snapped up to look at you, matching concerned expressions on all of their faces. “I, um—” you said, scrambling up from your seat, words too big in your mouth. You opted not to finish them, dropping your sentence as you yanked your shell phone out of your jacket pocket. “Sorry, I—” 

You shook your head, hurrying out of the kitchen. The cold gust of the ocean breeze hit heavy on your face, and you let out a breath, the gust of air exhaling out of your chest in a rush. You heard footsteps behind you, but the panic hadn’t bled out of your veins entirely, and your hands shook as you tried to open your phone. 

Zoro’s hand was pressed over yours before you could snap the case open. You stared down at it, and your gaze lifted, the tremble of your hands subsiding as his warm grasp sunk deep into your skin. “What’s up?” he asked, low and steady. 

“I, um—” you swallowed hard, hitching breath soothing at his touch. “Um. It’s—I have to call my dad.” 

Zoro was serene, tone even and still. His words from before echoed around in your head, the proclamation of not having patience. It’d been untrue after all. “Did something happen?” 

“I’m supposed to have dinner with him,” you blurted. “Tonight. I’ve never missed it before. Because I’ve always been on the island, in our—I’ve never missed it before. I’ve been with you all for too long.” 

“I’m sure he’d understand,” Zoro said, though his hand didn’t fall from yours. He paused, lips parted as his eyes ran along your face. “Or is it something you’re upset about?” 

“I don’t have friends,” you whispered, words fierce. “I don’t go places. I stay at home. This life isn’t mine. It’s—” 

“I don’t think you should dictate what you do based on what your father does,” Zoro interrupted. His tone wasn’t harsh, exactly—but it was strong, tone firm, jaw set as he spoke. “So you miss one dinner. So you’re out and about for longer than a week. Does it matter?” 

Does it matter? Your heart pounded in your chest, and you took in a steady breath, trying to soothe the adrenaline that still pulsed in your veins even now. “I don’t… I’m not used to this,” you admitted, somehow managing to keep the contact of your eyes even as your brain screamed at you to look away. “I’m not used to being away from home.” 

“Everyone starts somewhere,” Zoro said. 

You hesitated. His hand moved carefully away from yours, nudging your fingers to open the phone. Your gaze dropped, staring at the little snail waiting for you inside, nestled in his little bed of velvet. You picked it up, tucking it into your ear as your shaking hands dialed Mihawk’s number. 

He answered on the first ring. “Hello there, darling,” he said, and you closed your eyes, a soft exhale leaving your lungs at his voice. “Are you calling me about dinner? I’ll be there in a few hours, I promise. Just finishing up over here.” 

“No, actually, um—” you cut yourself off, teeth coming down to halt your tongue. You opened your eyes, turning to glance tentatively over at Zoro. Does it matter? he had asked. Which… it did, right? You weren’t a part of the Straw Hats. You hadn’t joined their crew; you’d been insistent on that, pushing away any idea of a life out at sea in exchange for the comfort and familiarity of your home lifestyle. But you’d been making bonds with them despite, and helping them out with their ship, and fighting alongside them in battle. And you’d just patched up Zoro’s wounds a mere hour earlier. You didn’t make friends.

But you were making them. 

“I’m not going to dinner this week,” you said, the words all slurred as they spilled from your mouth. There was a pause of surprise on Mihawk’s line before he spoke again. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling Zoro’s gaze on you. 

“Finally departed from the nest, have you, darling?” Mihawk said. His voice was soft—tender, almost. “Very well, then. Any idea when you’ll be on the island next, or shall we keep it a suspended date?” 

“I should be home in a few days,” you said, voice hitching in your breath. “I’ll—I’ll call you! I don’t know what I’m going to do afterwards, but I’ll—I’m not going to just disappear.” 

“Well, of course,” Mihawk said simply. You tightened the squeeze of your eyes, trying to suppress the tingling prickles at your waterline. “I’m glad you’re making friends, dear.” 

You made a face, letting out a breathy scoff. A defense mechanism, really. “Don’t get mushy on me, old man.” 

“Me? Mushy?” There was a staticky scoff crackling over from Mihawk’s side of the line. It was such a simple conversation, so—why was it driving you to tears? “I could never, darling, do you even know me? I’ve got to fly, anyway—there’s some pesky pirates around here I’ve got to deal with.” 

“Bye, dad,” you said, the words choking up your throat, all raggedy at the edges, too big as you shoved them up and through your mouth. They grazed your tongue, but the points weren’t edges; they didn’t draw blood. “I—um.” 

The Dracules did not say I love you. Your father was doting, certainly, but he expressed his affection in far more unspoken ways. Presents from all four Blues. A weapon of the highest caliber quality when you were thirteen. Personal lessons in sword fighting. The murder of anyone who dared send an off look in your direction. 

“Me too, little hawk,” Mihawk said simply. “Now go have fun.” 

The den den mushi let out a soft little croak, signaling that Mihawk had hung up. You let your hand fall, the fingers holding the case of your phone going slack. Air punctured your lungs as you inhaled, the salty, crisp breeze loosening your muscles with every breath. 

“Are you alright?” Zoro asked. The words were gruff, awkward. Like he wasn’t used to saying them. You tightened your grip on your case, and then tugged the snail out of your ear, setting it carefully back where it belonged. You met Zoro’s gaze, heart thudding a bit faster as you saw flickers of concern in his eyes. 

“Yeah,” you said. “I think I am.” 

The sun shone bright on your face, the weather of the Grand Line being more forgiving today as the ship sailed carefully through the ocean. Your route was still towards Kuraigana Island, although you were growing more split about it by the second. You’d just had a conversation with Mihawk a day or so ago about you not being at the house—and the fact that you’d have to choose whether to go home and potentially never see the Straw Hats again was a decision that gripped heavy at your heart. 

“Looks like you’ve got a lot on your mind.” You glanced up to see Zoro at your side, forearms propping at the Going Merry’s railing as he gazed out at the ocean. You shrugged, eyes flickering down his side profile before falling back to your hands. 

“I don’t know,” you said. “Just thinking about what to do, I guess.” 

Zoro fixed you with a look. “You should try not doing that.” 

A startled laugh escaped your throat. “What? Thinking?” 

“It gets old,” Zoro said with a firm nod, brow slightly creased to shield his eyes from the sun. “I’d recommend dropping it for at least a few hours. You’re getting wrinkles.” One of his hands moved upwards to nudge against your forehead, and you ducked, another laugh gracing the edges of your lips. 

“Right,” you said, dubious. “How are your wounds?” 

“I’ve taken worse,” Zoro said with a shrug. “Though I guess I’ve still got that one, huh.” He grimaced, lips tugging back to bare his teeth into a scowl. It took him a while to speak again, and you turned your gaze back towards the ocean, waiting for the unspoken words to leave his lips. Minutes ticked by, but you just basked in the sun, trying to air your mind of any thoughts. Maybe Zoro had a point, there—sometimes it really wasn’t necessary to think at all. 

When Zoro finally spoke, his words were quiet; muttered under his breath. You had to strain to hear them, as the thin ocean breeze swallowed them up almost immediately. “I really thought I could beat him.” 

You huffed out a breath, unsure of what to say. Unsure if Zoro even wanted you to say anything. Your grip on the boat’s railing tightening, palm running across the soft wood. You found words falling out of your mouth anyway, though, although you yourself were surprised by them—“You can.” 

Zoro glanced up at you, surprised. “Maybe not now,” you hastened to say, not wanting to add to his clearly already-inflated ego. “But you’re good. You’re good enough to beat him, eventually. In a few years, given the proper time and training. I think…” You swallowed down the phlegm in your throat, alarmed by how wet your voice was starting to sound. You took in a breath, steadying your tone, making certain your voice wasn’t quite so thin or reedy. “I think that’s what scares me about you.” 

“I’m sorry,” Zoro said, all low and hushed. You just shrugged. 

“I don’t mind,” you answered. You felt his eyes on you, burning like a sun on fire, like the stars dotting his skin were crisping over your skin, charred and burnt and broken. Or maybe it wasn’t quite so destructive. Maybe it was a tender fire, crowning a pile of wood and cared for with iron stakes, embers glowing deep in the night to keep warmth fueling a pot of soup, or healing ragged hands after a long battle. 

“Let me get you a drink.”

Zoro disappeared. He returned with a flask, handing it over to you after unscrewing its cap. You knocked it back—it was rich but bland, all dry and earthy. Sake. You’d pegged him more as a beer guy. “Thanks.” 

Zoro’s gaze didn’t move from your figure. It was warm, you decided then. The swordsman was vicious at times, relentless in his fight, sinewy figure slashing cuts into flesh as he sparred with his enemies. But there was a distinction behind the hot, heavy iron of those glares at the look at which he placed upon you now. You couldn’t go as far to say his eyes were tender, or soft. But they were warm. Fire was a calamitous thing, but it had its blessings. 

“Let me take you out,” Zoro said suddenly. Your entire body froze, murmurs of warmth and tingling buzzes pricking up and down your spine. Something inside you lurched—no, it didn’t lurch, didn’t have the unpleasant sensation associated with it. It was softer, burning, guttural. Like a sharp knife cutting straight through your abdomen, sliding into your stomach, prying apart the bones like they were putty. Your chest squeezed inwards, heart pulsating with soft pangs of something. Hunger; desire, maybe. Yearning. 

“Why?” you asked. Zoro just shrugged, effortlessly casual in his movements. You saw a hitch in his throat, a flicker of something in his eyes, a strain in his jaw. Not so effortless after all. “Actually, more importantly—where?” 

“I’ll figure something out,” Zoro answered. “Is that a yes?” 

You turned, glancing up at him tentatively. “I’m not used to this sort of thing,” you said carefully. Zoro just shrugged. He still looked effortless, all guarded, but you could see the tremors and quivers underneath. 

“Neither am I.” 

You pursed your lips, raising your face to let the sun glow down onto your skin. “I have a rule, though,” you said, voice lifting up, more of a tease now. There was a ghost of a smile at the edge of your words, although your mouth wasn’t shaped in one. It was hesitant, careful not to scare you, really; creeping on you inch by inch. “I can’t go out with men who haven’t beaten me in combat.” 

Zoro snorted. “I have beaten you,” he said. “But if you want a rematch—” 

“Let’s not strain your injuries too much.” Zoro let out a scoff, but it was light-hearted, laced with amusement. You just shook your head, the dawning smile at the edges of your lips now, tugging them softly upwards. “I accept a loss when I get served one. You beat me, fair and square.”

“So I get to take you out now,” Zoro murmured, words careful, hovering in the air just barely out of his lips. He turned towards you, the sun outlining his face with a soft glow of gold and orange. He didn’t smile, but there was that soft, burning look again, lips slightly parted, taking in air. “That’s the rule, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” you said. “It is.” 

“Tonight, then,” Zoro said. “Ten. Aftercastle.” 

You spent some time contemplating what to wear. You hadn’t brought a very expansive wardrobe along with you, only the essentials, so there wasn’t much to choose from—just some shirts and pants, no dresses or skirts in the bare bones of your luggage. You eventually picked out your favorite of the grouping, sliding your signature jacket on like usual, Hiru fastened securely in its scabbard at the back. 

Zoro was waiting at the afterdeck when you arrived, dressed in a dark wrap shirt and his usual green obi. The cloth was nicer, though: his pants were missing their usual wear and tear, and his shirt looked to be made of finer cotton. “Hi,” you said, slipping up next to him. The tangerine tree’s leaves brushed at your ear, and you glanced up at it. The fruit was ripe, round and as bright orange as Nami’s hair. 

“Hey,” Zoro replied. One of his forearms was propped against the afterdeck railing, and the other wrapped around the side. You put your hand beside his, pinky just inches away from his. “Do you know any constellations?” 

“Some,” you said, squinting up at the sky. You could point a few of them out, but not many—the sky was cloudy tonight, most of the stars blocked out by dull puffs of gray and blue. “You?” 

“No,” Zoro answered. “Was never really interested in that kind of thing.” He glanced over at you. You’d turned your attention on the trees, again, plucking one of the tangerines off the branches. The tree trembled, its leaves quivering with soft swaying motions. You dug your nails into the flesh, peeling it carefully. “Why’d you just stay home?” 

“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug. “My dad used to not let me leave. He stayed with me until I was maybe twelve, for the most part. Then he started going out more, but he didn’t want me to come. Something about it being dangerous. He dropped the ban when I was sixteen, but…” you hesitated, tucking the shredded pieces of tangerine peels in your pocket. “I just kind of stuck with it, I guess.” 

“Weren’t you lonely?” 

“Kind of.” You broke the orange in half, moving on to pick at the pith with your fingernails. You gathered that up, too, little white lines piling up in the crease of your palm. 

“Yeah, me too.” 

“He always wanted me to leave, I think,” you said. “To find my own life. I was always happy staying there with him, though. Or waiting for him.” 

“You wouldn’t be abandoning him by leaving,” Zoro said. 

“Logically, I know that.” You peeled a piece of orange off from a half, offering it to Zoro. He took it, carefully pushing it between his teeth. He broke skin, a burst of piquant citrus juice dripping on his lower lip. Your eyes lingered there a moment too long, but you looked away a second later, speaking again. “I think it’s just a habit, really. I worry.” 

“I mean, he’s a Warlord of the Sea. I think he can take care of himself.” 

“It’s not that I’m worried about,” you said with a sigh. You popped a slice of orange in your mouth, sucking at the tart juice. “I don’t want him to get lonely.” 

“That’s not really your responsibility,” Zoro answered. His pinky crept closer to your hand, from where you’d returned your grip on the railing. His touch was feather-light, a soft breath of skin against skin that was there and gone again within a moment. “Did you think any more about it?” 

“I didn’t,” you said. “Took a page out of your book.” 

“It’ll come to you eventually,” Zoro said. “Like that one Shanks guy said—actually, I don’t remember the quote. Ask Luffy about it in the morning. He’ll probably go on for a few hours.” 

You snorted. “You’re kind of bad at giving advice, Zoro.” The name came easily, and you stopped, feeling the syllables on your teeth. It was comforting. Natural. 

Zoro seemed a tad bit offended by that. “At least I’m trying,” he muttered, voice defensive but not hostile. “Onto lighter topics?” 

You popped another tangerine slice in your mouth. “Like what?” 

“Nothing light about my life, so I’ve got no idea.” You snorted, choking on the orange that’d made its way halfway down the passage of your throat. You coughed, shaky laughs escaping your lips as you cleared your airways. An amused smile had perched on Zoro’s face, eyes glimmering with warmth as he watched you.

“That was unnecessarily edgy,” you protested. You finished with your tangerine, letting the pith flutter out of your palm, some of the white floss sticking. You didn’t mind it. 

“Got a laugh out of you, didn’t it?” Zoro nudged you, the skin of his finger pressing fully against your pinky. This time, he didn’t move away, letting the warmth of his skin bleed into yours. 

“You never answered my question.” You raised your pinky, lifting it to brush against Zoro’s knuckle. Carefully, you slipped it into the gap of his interdigit, looping your fingers together so they were intertwined. Zoro exhaled shakily—you glimpsed his other arm moving away from the railing, lowering to his side. “Why you wanted me out here, I mean.” 

Zoro pulled up a flask, unscrewing the cap with one hand. He didn’t drink, though, just held the bottle suspended in his hand. He didn’t say anything for a while, letting the soft rush of water from below and the tranquil rocking of the boat fill the silence. For a moment you thought he wasn’t going to say anything at all. To your surprise, though, he raised the flask to his lips, taking a short sip before letting his hand fall again. “You feel different.” 

“Care to be a little less vague?” 

“I don’t know if I can,” Zoro said carefully. His guard was up, that much was sure. You didn’t exactly blame him. “Things have changed since I joined Luffy. Sometimes I can’t describe it.” 

“The crew,” you said. “It makes sense.” 

“It does,” Zoro agreed. There was something magnetic about it, about him—something that drew you in. But you weren’t afraid of it, really. The Straw Hats weren’t scary. Their bared teeth weren’t fangs; their canines remained unsharpened at their maw. Their lure was more peaceful than that. “We like you. You fit in.” He paused, mouth slightly ajar, a tremor of something on his lower lip. “I like you.” 

Your lungs were empty, devoid of air. Something in your chest clawed at you, trying to climb up your throat, compressing your organs. Zoro’s touch burned into you, interlocked fingers searching an imprint in your skin. You were certain you’d feel it for hours; days; months; years after. “I think I like you too,” you said. 

“Well, you like my earrings,” Zoro said easily. “That’s a start.” 

You turned towards him, at his open stance, tucking yourself in the space between his figure at the side of the ship. The motion forced Zoro to raise your hands away from the railing, but he slid with the action easily, fingers fully interlacing with yours. His other arm remained propped along the ship, flask in his fingers, the skin of his forearm brushing against your side. Your free hand raised up to skim along his earrings, dull clinks of the metal sounding out at the emotion. “I do like your earrings.” 

“Enough to let me kiss you?” 

You tugged gently at Zoro’s earlobe, angling your face up to meet his. “Yeah.” 

Zoro kissed you square on the mouth, mouth full and open, hand slipping around your back. The edge of his sake flask dug into your spine, but it wasn’t a sharp pain, and you didn’t mind it. Your fingers tightened against Zoro’s, chasing his lips with yours, letting him swallow you whole. He was patient with it, smooth and languid; tongue licking into the crevices of your mouth, firm as he mouthed kisses at the lines of your lips. 

You breathed in from his lungs, chest getting tight as he sucked the air clean out of you. Still, you were addicted, utterly devoted as his fingers nudged against your hand and his tongue skimmed along your mouth. He was a good kisser, effortless and smooth, nearly elegant with his motions. He tasted like sake; earthy, woodsy, reminiscent of some sort of mushroom, maybe. It suited him well. 

You let out a little whimper as Zoro’s tongue pressed deep to your throat, and he swallowed it up, flicking lazily along the roof of your mouth. You were getting short of breath, though, so you placed a gentle litany of faint kisses along his mouth before tilting your head back and letting the night air puncture your lungs. Zoro’s pupils had gone wide, deep black swallowing the walnut of his irises. His hand pulsed against yours, steady as ever, but he didn’t speak.

“I like more than your jewelry,” you said, staring down at where your fingers tangled with his. They looked like two pieces of a puzzle, extremities manipulated to slot along each other, palms molded together. “I like the way you move, and the way you fight. I like your face.” You hesitated, playing with Zoro’s fingertips to distract you from your words. 

“You don’t have to say it,” Zoro said. 

“No, I think I do.” A ghost of a smile flickered up your mouth; a corpse, really, one that had forgotten it wasn’t really dead after all. “I like you, Roronoa Zoro.” 

Zoro’s fingers squeezed tighter against yours. There was no click, no noise of finality, no settlement of a suspended thread. You supposed it didn’t work like that. Life didn’t stop and end. You went on. You’d see Zoro in the morning, again, after you’d gone to sleep, and things would continue like normal. “Okay,” he said. “Late enough for you to go to bed, yet?” 

“I could go either way,” you answered. “Staying out here wouldn’t be so bad either.” 

“Fine by me,” Zoro said, not moving from where he stood. “So, Lady Dracule. Where to next?” 

“Wherever the breeze takes me,” you answered, but there was a decision settling down in your chest. One you weren’t so afraid to look at anymore. 

Kuraigana Island was just as you’d left it, sky dark as night even in the middle of the day, rotted ground crunching dust and rocks underneath your feet. The Going Merry had docked in one of the number of homemade boat berths Mihawk had made sometime in your youth. 

Usopp let out a low whistle as the Straw Hats stepped onto the island, head practically turning around in a 180 degree spin as he craned his neck to look around. “You live here?” 

“It’s quaint,” you said defensively. 

Nami gave you a sympathetic look. “It really isn’t.”

“Why is the sky black?” Luffy murmured in amazement, casting his gaze upwards to the overhang of rumbling clouds that existed perpetually over the island. “Have you never seen sun in your life?” 

You rolled your eyes, leading them through the gravelly path up to your house. Their reactions were, well, nothing short of the expected—Sanji’s eyebrows lifted, and Zoro let out a low whistle as he took in the sight. 

“It’s like Kaya’s house,” Usopp breathed. “But… bigger. And more spiky!” 

“It needs a paint job,” Nami deadpanned. You snorted. 

“I’ve been trying to get him to renovate for forever. Good luck.” You cleared your throat, suddenly awkward as the group walked closer and closer to the house. Your footsteps slowed, until you came to a full stop a few meters off the front door. The Straw Hats grouped around you, curious. “Just… don’t be weird, please. Nami, don’t steal anything unless it looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in thirty years. I only bother to polish the important stuff.” 

“Is that an open invitation to rob your house?” Nami asked with a snort.

“Do you have any food?” Luffy asked. 

“Probably not. My dad can’t cook for shit. Sanji can make something,” you said. “Our kitchen’s kinda nice.” 

“Working in a Warlord’s kitchen? I’d be honored,” Sanji said, with a little flourish of his hand. You rolled your eyes, but Luffy at least seemed satisfied. You glanced over at Zoro, who was the only one of the group who hadn’t said anything up to now—his lips were set into a thin line, but he met your gaze, and they flickered upwards just a quarter of an inch. The action was reassuring, almost, and you were soothed enough to start walking again.

The door flung open before you reached it, although the sudden motion didn’t startle you like it did to your compatriots. Dracule Mihawk stood in the doorway, dressed in his usual hat and jacket, Yoru heavy off his shoulders like usual. “I thought I heard footsteps,” your father trilled, voice wonderfully monotone as he bent in front of you, taking your hand to press a gentle kiss upon your knuckles. “Have you brought your friends along, darling?” 

“Clearly,” you said with a soft laugh. It was like all the tension evaporated from your body as soon as your father got near, and you found his hand, giving it a tight squeeze before turning to your friends. “Do you need introductions, or do you know them all already?” 

“I only remember the future pirate king and the swordsman,” Mihawk said with a dismissive wave. “Oh, and Yasopp’s child. It’s no matter, really. Well, come on in, you’re letting in the cold air.” 

Usopp stuttered something incomprehensible about his father, but Mihawk had already disappeared. You glanced over your shoulder at the rest of the Straw Hats. “He’s like that,” you said apologetically. “Just… come in.”

They followed you into the house, glancing around the lobby to take in the decor. You had to admit, a lot of it was rather gaudy, but it wasn’t like Mihawk cared much about what adorned the walls, and you had little resources to work with. Sanji made quick work moving to the kitchen after you made sure that Mihawk hadn’t prepared dinner. 

“So,” Nami said, the words mulling around in her mouth as she lounged by the kitchen island. “Nice place.” 

“It’s kinda scary-looking,” Luffy said honestly. “Interesting choice of decoration. I guess if you like it, though.” 

“Are you okay on your own for a moment?” you asked, getting up from your seat. “I’m going to go talk to my dad.” Luffy nodded, and the others all hummed their assent. Zoro caught your gaze—soft, curious. You just gave him a reassuring smile and slipped out of the room. 

Mihawk was waiting in the living room, long body stretched supine along the couch, booted feet thrown up on the arm. You narrowed your gaze at it. “Don’t put your feet on the furniture,” you grumbled. 

“Sorry, dear,” Mihawk said, though he made no move to alter his position. “Did you end up getting that jacket for me?” 

“I did,” you said, glancing through the satchel that hung at your hip. You pulled it out, folding it with a solid shake and holding it up for Mihawk to see. His golden eyes flickered up and down the garment, taking in the material. Black cotton twill, with red paisley silk as the lining, delicate red lace at the hem and sleeves. The lapels were wide, buttons shiny and black, and it used red stitching rather than black, giving a sort of exoskeleton look to it. Mihawk sat up, pushing his hat back. 

“It’s beautiful, darling. I love it.” 

You folded the jacket in half, slinging it across the back of the sofa before moving around to face Mihawk fully. “About the crew.” 

Mihawk glanced up to meet your eyes. “Yes?” 

“I…” you took in a breath, the inhale shaky in your lungs, bones and muscles rattling in your chest. “I think I’m going to stay with them for a little while, if you’re okay with it.” 

“The Straw Hat crew,” Mihawk said carefully, shaping the words on his mouth, tasting them on his tongue. “My daughter, part of the Straw Hat crew. Well, it’s not the most terrible-sounding thing to say, I suppose.” He paused. “No idea why you’d think I wouldn’t be okay with it, though, sweetheart. I’m not horrendous.” 

“Well, I figured—” you started, voice trailing out into a protesting whine. “You’d be against them? Garp sent you after them. One of them tried to kill you.” 

“Oh, you know I don’t hold grudges over such trifling matters,” Mihawk said with a dismissive wave. “Roronoa Zoro, right? He was watching you the entire time you entered. Wouldn’t take his eyes off you, darling.” There was a particular glint in his eyes, hunted, like he was searching for a quarry. “Something to tell me?” 

“No,” you said, too fast. Mihawk lifted both brows, and you broke almost easily. “Maybe. No. He’s—no.”

Mihawk clucked his tongue, sounding amused. “I suppose your rebel streak was bound to come out eventually. And from what you told me, he did beat you, so I can’t exactly complain.” You flushed, warmth heating up your skin, bringing a rosy blush to your cheeks. “Make sure he doesn’t get himself killed before I can fight him again, will you, little hawk? I’ve got my eye on that one.” 

“Okay, dad,” you muttered, but the tension of your shoulders had gone slack, and your muscles were loose. 

“Will you be leaving after dinner, or will you stay until the morning?” Mihawk asked, standing up to his full height. He stretched, sinewy limbs long and supple. He looked nearly odd without Yoru perched along his back. “I’ve missed you.” 

“Morning,” you answered. “I’ve missed you too, dad.” 

Mihawk smiled at you. “Go make sure our guests aren’t burning down the kitchen.” 

Dinner was less of an awkward affair than you’d expected. Usopp spoke the most through it, and Mihawk was fine to goad him on, occasionally switching topics to inquire about the rest of the crew. 

Sanji had made a fine meal; a grilled steak and onions with a side of asparagus to some kind of white sauce pasta you didn’t recognize. It felt… nice, really, having them all around you. Mihawk certainly knew how to socialize, and Luffy didn’t seem to mind his acerbic tendency. 

“And after I defeated all the enemy pirates,” Usopp was rambling on, “We hit a cannon straight into their mast, and it came crashing down! Oh, you should’ve seen it, man. It was me—well, Luffy—I guess he was the one that chucked the guy into the ship, or whatever. It wasn’t actually a cannon, but the details aren’t that important—”

“What about my little hawk?” Mihawk interrupted, and you had the vague sense to start whining. “I don’t suppose she just sat there throughout the whole fight.” 

“Oh, nah, she got some guys too I guess,” Usopp said, lazily waving an arm in the air. “She’s the one who stationed me at the cannon, she knew how great I was at it. She almost died to this one big dude—”

“I did not almost die!” you snapped. Usopp cackled out a hearty laugh. 

“No, she totally did. Thankfully for her, the great Captain Usopp came to her rescue—”

“Me,” Zoro muttered, words barely audible as he spoke them into his cup. You cracked a smile, and he glanced up, catching your eye. A tender look crossed his face. 

“Okay, yeah, it was Zoro who saved her,” Usopp admitted. “Cut the guy’s head straight off his body. But that’s just because I was busy fighting off the other pirates!” He motioned with his hands, mock-punching the air in front of him. 

Mihawk just raised his eyebrows. “Did he, now? I hope you thanked him properly for that, sweetheart.” 

You shot Mihawk a warning look. “Dad.” 

Mihawk didn’t let that faze him, raising his glass of wine to his lips. “You might want to take him around the island. There are some fairly romantic spots here, ones I brought your mother to while she was pregnant,” he said, mouth around the rim of his glass. You flushed, resisting the urge to lunge over the table at your father—clearly, he could see your vexation, mirth dancing in his eyes. 

Zoro didn’t say anything, eyes tilted downwards like there was something particularly interesting in his cup. Nami and Sanji were murmuring things to each other, and Sanji raised his voice to speak. 

“I knew there was something between the two of you! Come on, Lady Dracule, you could do so much better than the mosshead here—”  

“Shut it—” Zoro started. 

“You most certainly did not know, and you owe me fifteen hundred berry for that!” Nami said, offended. She elbowed Sanji firmly in the ribs, and he let out a low cough. Her head spun towards the head of the table, where Luffy was sitting across from your father. “Luffy, tell your cook to honor his bets.” 

“You bet on us?” you demanded, a squeak of embarrassment entering your voice as you protested. Nami gave you a look. 

“Please. You were obvious.” 

“Well,” Sanji jumped in, “Personally I thought you had better taste than—”

“I said shut it, waiter,” Zoro said, finally looking up to fix Sanji with a glare. He tilted his head to the side, one eyebrow raised, and you stifled a laugh. “And if I were you, I’d give Nami her money as soon as possible.” 

“This is so unfair,” Sanji muttered, but he fished a wallet out of his pocket and slapped a few bills onto the table. “There you are, madam. I hope you’re happy.” 

You groaned. “At the dinner table, really?” 

“Money waits for no one,” Nami said with a little wink, tucking her winnings carefully into a pocket of her skirt. 

“Sanji, did you make dessert?” Luffy wondered. Sanji rolled his eyes, but the sigh he let out was kind and good-natured. 

“Well, lucky for you, I did have the mind to bake some cookies while here.” He got up from his seat. You just gave him a dubious look; everyone had more or less finished with their food, though, so you got up, collecting the dishes to wash. 

You did chores, Nami hanging around you and lending her aid while the other Straw Hats got comfortable in guest rooms or whatever else. Zoro hadn’t budged from the dining room, apparently not interested in exploring the different parts of your house—you could just barely see him out of the kitchen doorway, nursing his drink as he stared thoughtfully into the distance. 

The familiar shape of your father’s jacket joined his side, and you narrowed your eyes, straining to hear. Mihawk had bent over the table, a pleasant smile on his face as he spoke. He didn’t bother to speak quietly, so everyone in the near vicinity heard his words— “If you hurt her, I won’t show the mercy I did the first time. My little hawk’s more important than finding a worthy opponent.”

“Dad!” you snapped, dropping the plate you were in the middle of washing. Mihawk didn’t even look in your direction, even as you stormed out of the kitchen to stand protestingly by the mouth. “Don’t—” 

“Oh, hush, dear,” Mihawk said with a dramatic eye roll. “I’m off to bed, then. I’ve got business in the morning.” He came over to you to brush another kiss along your knuckles. “I’ll be gone before you wake up. Safe travels.” 

“Good night,” you said with a sigh. Mihawk left, then, disappearing around the bend of the corner to head off to his room. 

“...I still don’t really forgive him for almost killing Zoro,” Nami said warily. Zoro got up from his seat, moving over to where the two of you had gathered in the kitchen. “But your dad’s fine, I guess. Not terrible, as far as fathers go.” 

“Yeah,” you agreed, then glanced apologetically towards Zoro. “I’m sorry about him.” 

“It’s fine,” Zoro said with a careless shrug. “It’s getting late. I’ll walk you to your room.” You nodded, drying your hands on a nearby kitchen towel and prompting Zoro to follow you up the steps. The house was large, a castle, really; all dark and winding, with long corridors and tall ceilings. Your bedroom was grand, on the second floor, with a sweeping balcony and wide windows that bore a full view of the island’s perpetual darkness. 

“What’d you say?” Zoro asked, stepping into the room. He glanced around, but didn’t remark in his surroundings, turning instead to look over at you. 

“I told him I’d be joining the Straw Hat pirates,” you said. Zoro smiled at that, the edges of his lips curling up. 

“Good,” he said simply. You moved towards him, forcing him to back up until he reached the plush of your bed. He sat down, eyes not flickering away from yours, soft brown that held an entire universe in them. Planets lined his cheeks, spatters of galaxies that you thought you might revolve inside. “Living here for years alone doesn’t seem like the most interesting life.” 

“It was fine while it lasted,” you said, bending your head down, lips hovering over his. Zoro’s hand came up to press firmly along your waist. “I think I like the ship a bit better, though.” 

“Hm,” Zoro murmured, eyes on your mouth. He tugged you down, but the kiss he pressed against your lips was chaste, and he was leaning back again before you knew it. “I decided, by the way. On whether I wanted your dad to like me or not.” 

You arched a brow, thinking back to that night so long ago when you’d first heard the words on Zoro’s lips. I’m not sure if I want him to like me. “Well?” 

“I do,” Zoro said, nudging against your chest, chin bumping along your shoulder. “It makes sense, with you.” 

A comfortable silence filled the space. His thumb ran a tender circle along the skin of your torso. “I should probably pack,” you murmured. 

“Eh, you’ll have time for that later,” Zoro said dismissively. You laughed, the sound full, straight out your throat. 

“Do I, now?” Zoro’s lip quirked, eyes grazing over your figure. You prattled on as if you didn't even notice. “Did you have something else in mind? You realize after this we have all the time in the world to be together—”

“I told you I was impatient,” Zoro interrupted, and then he was tugging you down, pressing a full kiss to your mouth again. You parted your lips to argue, but Zoro just took that as an opportunity to side his tongue in, and, well—this wasn’t so bad, either. One of your hands came to tangle in his hair, nudging his head just the slightest bit upwards to allow you better access. Zoro’s thumb didn’t stop making lazy revolutions into your skin. “Doesn’t seem like you mind.” 

“Shut up,” you mumbled against his lips. You leaned forward, pushing him back onto the bed, before pausing to lean down and unfasten the straps of his shoes. 

“You’re a real charmer.” Zoro didn’t complain, though, seeming more than pleased when you returned to kiss him, allowing him to fall back onto your bed now that you’d shed him of his footwear. “Little hawk, huh?” 

You huffed out a breath. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s cute,” Zoro said casually, one arm coming to prop behind his head. He drank you in properly, this time, from where you were on your knees on the mattress, unstrapping your own shoes before joining him up on the bed. “You are.”

You met his eyes, and a flicker of warmth crossed over your heart. For a soft, silent moment, you let it breathe. Let it exist there. Let the realization that you may one day love this man fill your soul. 

“Come here,” you said, climbing over to Zoro even as you spoke. “I’m going to kiss you again.” 

Zoro just grinned.  

The Going Merry was just as you’d left it, although Mihawk had provided you with any extra provisions the crew might’ve wanted for the rest of your journey. You’d packed up and brought along your stuff, too, managing to finally decorate your cabin in the ship more to your likeness. Everything was ready, and you stood at the edge of the aftercastle, Zoro to your side as you stared down at the island you’d called home for all the years of your life. 

But Kuraigana Island wasn’t your only home anymore, and neither was the hawk eyed man who resided in it whenever he was not busy doing something else. Mihawk had left in the early morning, but the ghost of his presence still warmed you. This way, it was easier to let go, you thought. This way, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. 

“Casting off!” Luffy yelled, his voice puncturing the stillness of the island air from his usual spot on the goat at the ship’s bow. You turned away from the island, jacket lapping around your legs as the wind whipped against it. 

“Ready to go?” Zoro asked carefully. 

“Yeah,” you answered, turning away from the island. Zoro stood to your left, one hand perched on the hilt of his sword, the other relaxed at his side. His brows were creased, strong against the shimmer of the glinting sun just barely peeking through the darkness of the island. 

The fog washed his features in blue, all blurry around the edges, but you couldn’t help but think he was the most beautiful man you’d seen anyway. 

“I’m ready.”

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

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author's note: i also wanted to pop in and say that i'm not opposed to writing more fics/oneshots of this character and in this universe (hereafter referred to as md!reader) with zoro <3 if you guys have any requests pop them in my box when my requests are open, plus i may write some on my own time too!

© halfvalid 2023

[justagalwhowrites]

So this may be awkward but I saw your dbf fic and thought what about best friend's dad? Obviously it would either have to be a no outbreak au where Sarah is in her 20s or several years after the show when Ellie is an adult. Maybe the oc is a few years older than Ellie or Sarah or whichever you choose. Maybe I just haven't read enough TLOU smut but this is one I haven't seen and I would love to read something like this!

OMG Hi bestie!

So THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT WITH THIS??? You sent this in FOREVER ago but I've been so hung up on Lavender and Beskar Doll I just didn't get around to this.

Anyway, HERE'S THE ASK FINALLY! I hope you like it!

UPDATE A/N: This is now a full series (has been for a while but I just realized I never linked to the master list from here.) If you'd like to read more, you can find it here.

New in Town

When you move to Austin for work, your best friend Sarah recommends that you hang out with her dad, Joel, to get to know the area. Sarah just never mentioned the fact that her dad is just your type.

Pairing: BFD!Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: SMUT! Fingering, oral (male receiving), protected P in V sex. Legal age gap (Reader is 35 Joel is 47.) No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ only

Length: 5.6k (wtf is my problem)

You should have made Sarah text you a picture at the very least. 

The bar was starting to get busy and you’d realized about 15 minutes earlier that you had no fucking clue what your best friend’s dad looked like. 

“You’re sure it’s not weird that I hang out with your dad?” You asked Sarah the morning you left town. 

“It’s not weird,” she waved you off, her curls bouncing. “Promise. He’s not like… an old dad. He’s fun. You get along with me so you’ll get along with him. It’s at least something so you’re not stuck in Austin not knowing anybody.” 

“Yeah,” you nodded and then sighed, looking at your coffee. One last cup of the good stuff in Seattle before your flight in a few hours. 

There was a knot in your stomach at the thought of leaving, now that it was actually here. You’d been in Seattle for two years now after moving here for work. Sarah was the only other woman in your department - not to mention the only other person under 40. She might have been 10 years younger than you but the two of you had become fast friends. She’d been there for a year - she’d started fresh out of college - when you came aboard and was kind enough to let you in on the office politics. 

“So fucking glad to have another girl around here,” she said after you’d been there about two weeks, her arm looped through yours as you walked to a restaurant down the street from your office for lunch. “Lunch just isn’t as good with old dudes…” 

Making friends outside of the office was just as awkward as you remembered and it wasn’t long before you and Sarah were hanging out all the time outside of work, too. She was probably going to be the thing you missed most about Seattle. 

But the promise of a big promotion - setting up your own team at the new branch of your firm in Austin - was too good to pass up. 

“Hey,” she put her hand on your wrist from across the small table. “You’re going to kill it down there. Just remember to demand me when the time comes to add a junior copywriter.” 

“Well, simply no one else will do,” you smiled a little. She laughed. 

You finished your coffee and Sarah dropped you off at the airport - your office paying to ship all your things down - and you flew off to your new life in Texas. 

After a week of settling in, you finally caved and reached out to Sarah’s dad. She told you to just text him and you kind of hoped he wouldn’t respond. Once the ball was in his court, you’d be off the hook. If he never responded and you never met the guy, Sarah could hardly hold it against you. 

“Hi! Is this Joel Miller?” You texted originally, following it up with your name and - just in case Sarah hadn’t bothered to tell him you were going to be texting - some indication that you weren’t a total stranger. “I just moved to town and Sarah told me to text you.” 

“There,” you said to yourself, taking a sip of wine as you sat back on your couch. “Done. Not my problem any….” 

Your phone lit up on your coffee table and you groaned. Of course he texted back. Of course he texted back fucking immediately. 

“Hi,” he said. “Sarah mentioned you might text. Said you might need someone to show you around town. Want to grab a drink later this week?” 

You rapped your fingers against the globe of your glass, the wine lush and red. 

“Sure,” you said. “I don’t start work until next week, so just let me know when and where works for you and I’ll be there!” 

You made plans to meet up two days later. You’d showed up a few minutes early, wanting to get the lay of the land before you met a stranger in a bar. 

Joel, it seemed, was a bit late. You kept looking up at the door, waiting to see someone who looked something like Sarah walk in. But so far, there wasn’t anyone who fit the bill. A few guys who looked like they were UT students deciding to check out something further from campus, four guys who who definitely had just gotten off motorcycles, one man who was almost stupid hot and looked about 10 years too young to be Sarah’s dad and a guy about your age with a date. 

You glanced at your phone. 9:13. At what point did you call it? Maybe try to pick up the hot guy who seemed to be hovering on his own at the bar. You hadn’t gotten laid in a while and you’d at least done your hair and makeup, even if you hadn’t tried to look like you were looking for a hookup. 

Your phone screen hadn’t fully dimmed yet when it lit up bright, vibrating with Joel’s name on the caller ID. You sighed and answered. 

“Hello?” You pressed your free hand against your ear, trying to drown out the sound of the bar behind you, but it sounded noisy on his end, too. 

“Hi,” he said, a bit of a Texas twang in his voice. “Just wanted to make sure you were still plannin’ on comin’ out tonight…” 

“Yeah,” you laughed a little. “I was wondering the same about you, I’m here…” 

“Where?” He said. “Don’t see you…” 

You started looking around then, too, looking at every face at every table around you before you settled on… the stupid hot guy at the bar. 

Who looked too young to have a kid Sarah’s age. 

Who had a phone pressed to his ear. 

Who was now staring at you. 

You raised a hand and smiled awkwardly, giving him a small wave. 

He looked surprised for a moment before hanging up his phone, grabbing his beer from the bar, and heading for your table. 

“I’m so sorry,” he said, setting his drink down across from you and taking his seat. “I didn’t mean to keep you waitin’, I was just expecting someone Sarah’s age…” His eyes went wide for a second. “Not that you look old or anythin’, just… Not what I was expecting.” 

“Yeah, Sarah was the baby of the Seattle office,” you smiled a little. “She’s the best though. Thank God for her, I’d have been so bored there without her.” 

“Yeah,” he smiled and nodded. “She is the best.” 

Up close, Joel was still stupid hot. Uncomfortably hot. It was not fair how hot he was for him to be off limits because he was your best friend’s dad. His hair was dark and a little shaggy and you had to fight the urge to brush an unruly curl back from his brow. His eyes were the warmest brown with a light to them that made you want to just stare at him for a while. His crooked smile with one dimple, his slightly patchy beard, his unreasonably sculpted arms for a man who had to have at least a decade on you unless he was a teenager when Sarah was born. If you hadn’t met him this way, you’d be trying to get him home for at least a one night stand. But he was your best friend’s dad. Even if he made your core tighten and heat pool around your hips. 

It turned out, you and Joel had more in common than you’d expected. You liked the same music and he knew some good live music spots in town. You were both into hiking - and both agreed that the views in this part of the country would be kind of lacking compared to the Pacific Northwest. You both liked trying to find the spiciest food in town and eating it as a matter of principle. 

Of course, you hadn’t spent much time with men the age you THOUGHT Joel was going to be. Your only experience with men in their 50s was at work and that usually involved showing them how to save a word document as a PDF. You’d gone into this expecting to sit awkwardly with the guy for about an hour before going your separate ways. But you were pretty sure he was in his mid 40s, the same age as a lot of the guys you’d gone out with back in Seattle, and the more drinks you had the harder it was to remember that you weren’t on a date. You were hanging out with your best friend’s dad. She probably had to beg him to meet up with you, he probably had a girlfriend he’d much rather be spending time with on a Friday night instead of his daughter’s friend who was new in town. 

But he seemed happy enough to stay for hours. The two of you were laughing over a particularly bad movie you’d somehow both seen - Giant Spider Invasion - when the bar announced last call. 

“Shit,” Joel looked at his watch, clamping his hand over it after a second. “Didn’t realize how late it got. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take up your whole damn night…” 

“No, I’m sorry,” you waved him off, reaching for your phone for the first time in hours to try and order an Uber. “I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than entertain me.” 

“Not exactly,” he half smiled at you. That fucking dimple. “Don’t really got a thirvin’ social life. I get the feeling this arrangement was as much for me as it was you, knowin’ Sarah.” 

“She’s cunning, that one,” you said, putting in your destination address. You groaned. “Shit!”

“What?” Joel asked. 

“Surge pricing,” you sighed. “Come ON, it’s almost 2 a.m., it can’t be that busy…” 

“It’s homecomin’ weekend at the school,” he shrugged. “Everyone’s in town drinking.” 

“That’ll do it,” you sighed, bracing yourself to spend almost $100 on a car ride home. 

“I can give you a ride,” he said. You looked up from your phone, frowning. “I’m good to drive.”

“I don’t want to put you out,” you said, about to push the button anyway. 

“You’re not,” he said. “Trust me.” 

*** 

Joel was very nearly in over his head with you. 

Every part of him was practically screaming “mistake, mistake, mistake, you are a big fucking mistake!” 

You were Sarah’s best friend. 

You were more than a decade younger than him. 

You were starting a new job and a new life and he really shouldn’t be trying to date someone he’d just hold back. 

YOU WERE SARAH’S BEST FRIEND. 

But none of that seemed to matter. He was damn near ready to kiss whatever asshole at Uber came up with surge pricing. He’d never been happier for an excuse to give someone a ride home. 

It had been years - at least - since he’d felt like this about anyone. He’d known you for hours, no time at all, but it felt like years. Like he could say anything to you and you’d understand it. You were obviously smart, so fucking smart. After talking about movies with you for five minutes he was half convinced you saw an entirely different movie than he had, talking about allegories and symbolism and holding onto little lines he wasn’t sure anyone else would notice or think about twice. He wanted to see if you’d let him get to know you that way, if you’d have any interest in trying to know him that way. Fuck, he wanted to know you.

It didn’t help that he’d spotted you the second he was in the bar, absently turning your glass in your fingers, looking at one of the University of Texas themed Bud Light posters on the wall like you were examining it, your eyebrows drawn together, your mind clearly somewhere else entirely. You were fucking gorgeous. Gorgeous in a way that it was a problem, it was distracting, it made him not want to think about or look at or consider anything else. It took conscious effort to not stare at you. When he hadn’t known who you were, he’d been praying Sarah’s friend would stand him up so he could go talk to you. Fuck, he wanted to talk to you. 

And then you answered the phone. 

And you were Sarah’s best friend. 

Fuck.

“You settlin’ in OK and all?” He asked after you gave him your address and he programmed it into Google Maps. 

“Mostly,” you nodded. “It’d be better if I could actually get a maintenance guy to come out to my place but…” 

Joel frowned. 

“What’s goin’ on?” 

“The garbage disposal has a hell of a leak,” you sighed. “I don’t know shit about plumbing so I’m afraid to try to fix it on my own. And the ceiling fan in my bedroom seems like it’s trying break out from its drywall prison whenever I turn it on so that’s been pretty useless. Maintenance keeps saying they’ll come by but they never do. I don’t think I’ll stay in that place longer than a year, this is what I get for apartment hunting from across the country.” 

“I could look at it for you,” Joel shrugged before he was smart enough to stop himself. 

“No,” you laughed and shook your head. “You’ve done enough for me as it is, I cannot ask you…” 

“You didn’t ask, I offered,” he said. “I’m a contractor, my area of expertise is fixin’ shit shoddy builders fucked up. You have plans tomorrow? I can come by, take a look.” 

Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid. That’s what he was. Fucking stupid. 

“Tomorrow would be great, actually,” you said. “I’m just about unpacked but I have a whole box of under the sink kitchen stuff that’s still sitting on my table and driving me insane. But you’re sure I’m not putting you out? I swear, it’s nothing that urgent, I just need to light a fire under management’s ass…” 

“Not puttin’ me out,” he smiled a little at the idea of that. Fuck, you were doing him a favor, giving him an excuse to see you again. 

Stupid. 

Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid STUPID. 

SARAH’S. BEST. FRIEND. 

“Early afternoon OK?” He asked. “Unless you gotta be somewhere…” 

“Yeah, so far my vibrant social life here includes you and the barista down the street who now knows I prefer my lattes skim,” you laughed. “I’ll be around, come over whenever works for you. I hugely appreciate it, you have no idea.” 

He watched you go into your apartment when he dropped you off, a townhouse that had definitely been built in the last five years. He sighed and shook his head. Shoddy fucking craftsmanship, things breaking that fast. He’d help you find a decent place when your lease was up. 

As a friend. 

Because he could be friends with you. That would be fine. Encouraged by his meddling but well-meaning daughter who’d arranged this to begin with. Friends help friends apartment hunt. He could be your friend. 

He fucked his hand before he passed out, trying to think of anything besides grabbing you and kissing you at the bar as he did. 

“Hey Dad! How’d it go last night?” 

His eyes were still bleary as he read the text from his daughter the next morning. 

“Hey Baby Girl,” he wrote back, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. How was it already 10 a.m.? How was Sarah a morning person? She sure as shit didn’t get that from him. “Went fine. Your friend seems nice.” 

She wrote back immediately. 

“She’s the BEST. Seriously. Give her like 5 minutes and she’s going to show you the best food in town, she always found the coolest restaurants up here, places no one else from the office even knew existed.” 

Joel smiled a little at that. He’d heard a lot about you over the last few years, now that he thought about it. He wasn’t big on social media so he only ever saw pictures Sarah texted him - usually a selfie in front of some tourist attraction as she stuck her tongue out at him - so he’d never had a face to put to the stories. But you’d become an integral part of her life in Seattle. 

You’d started as a “cool new coworker.” Then you got a name. And then you just became a “we.” “We went to this awesome new restaurant.” “We checked out this concert last night.” “We decided to go up the Space Needle because screw it, why not be a tourist in your own city sometimes?” He never needed to ask who she meant, he knew she was talking about you. 

He just hadn’t known it was you. 

Which was another reason this was stupid. He could not even consider doing something with you, even just in his head, not when you were that close with his daughter. 

“You guys going to hang out again?” She asked. “I think you’d be friends!” 

Joel ground his teeth for a second. 

“Don’t need you to find me friends just because Uncle Tommy got married.” 

Sarah replied right away. 

“Well if you did it yourself maybe I wouldn’t,” she said. “And she needs friends, too. Plus this is really all for my benefit, if she can swing me coming to the new Austin office and y’all are friends, we can all just hang out together. Way easier to coordinate my schedule.” 

Joel laughed a little. 

“Going to help her with something at her apartment today,” he sent back. “We’ll see if she wants me around after that.” 

Joel managed to keep from going to your house the second he was dressed. This wasn’t a problem he’d had since he was a fucking teenager, obsessed with some girl from his bio class. He was looking at his watch every five minutes, hoping it was reasonable to leave his house and go to yours. 

He called it at 11:45. He figured he’d bring you lunch. You said you liked spicy food - the spicier the better - and if your garbage disposal was leaking, chances are you couldn’t cook much. You’d need to eat something. It was the polite thing to do, he reasoned. 

Joel went to his favorite taco truck and got a little bit of almost everything. It was way too much food for two people but fuck it, he didn’t care. As long as it was something you’d like, he really didn’t give a shit. 

You were in some kind of matching not quite sweatsuit when you opened the door, the tan fabric looking so fucking soft. 

“Hey!” You smiled broadly, like him coming over made your day. You looked at your phone screen. “Damn you really mean early afternoon don’t you?” 

He glanced at his watch. 12:23. 

“Figured you could use some lunch,” he held up the takeout bag. “Didn’t think you were able to cook much, disposal outta commission…” 

“Are you really bringing me food when you came over to do me a favor?” You asked, brows raised. He shrugged. “They weren’t kidding about that whole southern gentleman thing, were they?” 

“Gotta give you pretty things some reason to put up with us,” he smiled a little. You smiled back and held the door open for him. 

Your place was sparsely decorated but comfortable and it looked like you were just about unpacked. Joel set the bag of tacos on the small table off your kitchen and you staked your claim to the spiciest one. 

“If it’s too hot for you, no shame in tappin’ out,” he teased, unwrapping his own taco. 

“I eat men with low spice tolerance for breakfast,” you waved him off. “This’ll be cake.” 

You took a bite and chewed for a second before your eyes went wide. Joel tried not to laugh at you. 

“Holy shit,” you held a hand in front of your full mouth as you spoke, your eyes watering. “That’s so hot! How the fuck…” 

“Yeah, you northerners don’t know what you’re dealin’ with,” Joel smirked. “Welcome to the big leagues.” 

“Oh, it’s on now, Miller,” you said, wincing a little. “I’ve got this, you have no idea…” 

He laughed but you finished the taco, eyes watering and face sweating, the whole way. 

“Alright, think you’ve earned some handyman work,” he smiled a little. You chugged water, somehow managing to look good as you did. “Kitchen sink right?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Run the water for longer than 30 seconds and it leaks like crazy…” 

He did as you said, opening the cabinet below. You had a pot inside to catch any stray water. He turned the faucet on and after less than a minute, water was gushing out from the pipe leading down to the disposal. He shut it off. 

“Good news is, it ain’t the disposal itself,” he said, putting his tools down beside the cabinet. “Looks like they just replaced it and did a shit job setting it up…” 

He got down on the ground, lying down so his upper body was in the cabinet just as you came and perched on the counter nearby, watching him closely. 

“Let me know what I can do to help,” you said. “I feel bad, you coming over, bringing me food, fixing my shit…” 

“Don’t,” he said, frowning up at the plumbing. “Got me outta my house… can you hand me the wrench that’s in the lower part of the tool kit, the adjustable one?” 

He heard you slide off the counter to the floor and rifle through his tools before handing him the wrench, your fingertips brushing his when you did. His heart sped up. Fuck this was stupid. 

You settled in on the floor near him, near enough that he’d feel your leg brush his when he adjusted while he worked. You asked him about his favorite band and he asked you about yours. About favorite foods. About the one place on Earth you’d go if money and time were no object. 

“Alright, think I’ve got it,” he said. “Do me a favor, turn the water on…” 

“You sure?” You asked, a frown in your voice. “Don’t you want to sit up first?” 

“I’m confident,” he smiled a little. 

“Alright, turning it on now.” 

And his confidence was correct. 

For a minute. 

And then it was like the floodgates opened and Joel was suddenly soaked. 

“Cut it!” 

You scrambled to obey as he got out from under the sink, dripping wet, shirt soaked. 

“Shit,” he looked down at himself. 

“I am so sorry!” Your hands were over your mouth, eyes wide. “One minute, let me grab you a towel…” 

You ran down the hall and came back with a small pile of towels handing them to him one by one. He started with himself and then put towels down below the sink. 

“I’m so sorry, Joel,” your eyes were so wide and earnest. 

“Not your fault,” he said, getting up, feeling like more than a bit of an idiot. “Your maintenance people just fucked something up big time…” 

“I have a washer and dryer,” you said quickly. “Let me wash that for you…” 

“Thanks,” he said and he peeled off the wet shirt and handed it to you. “Appreciate it…” 

He was so busy trying not to look at you that he hadn’t realized that you were staring at him, looking up him slowly, your lower lip in your teeth. Like you were interested in him, too. Like you were trying to keep your hands to yourself, too. 

Your eyes met his. This was stupid, this was very very stupid. You were standing close to him, so fucking close to him. 

“Joel,” you breathed. 

He was kissing you before he could talk himself out of it. 

*** 

You weren’t sure if he kissed you or you kissed him but you didn’t really care because fuck, he was touching you. Your arms went around his neck and his hands went to your hips, pulling your body flush against his as he all but devoured you. 

Like he’d done nothing but think of this since the night before, too. 

You were up for an hour after you got home, cursing your best friend for having such a hot dad and trying to not think about what would have happened if you’d dragged him into your apartment when he dropped you off as you ran your vibrator over your needy clit. 

Because how could you face Sarah if you’d fucked yourself to the thought of her dad? 

But you weren’t worrying about that now. 

Instead, you were leading Joel blindly through your apartment, to your bedroom. Your fingers tangled in his hair - wet from the explosive leak in your sink - as you kissed him. You pulled him against you as you sat back on your bed, crawling back toward the middle of it and tugging him along with you so he was hovering over you. 

“You sure…” he began but you nodded so fast that he didn’t even finish asking, just smiling for a second before kissing you again. 

His tongue was insistent inside your mouth, like he was trying to reach every part of you, but you liked it. The hot, aching need gathering in you liked it, liked that he was demanding and hungry for you to the point that, when his tongue slid back behind his own teeth it’s because he wanted to bite your lip with a growl. 

You squirmed out of the soft wrap that was covering your arms and he pulled at your tank top, peeling it away from you and leaving you in just your lacy bralette you liked to wear before you really got dressed for the day. His hand cupped your breast, palm brushing your firm nipple, and you moaned. Joel slipped his hand into the lace and touched the bare skin below and you involuntarily thrust your hips up toward him. He smiled against your mouth at that. 

“So eager,” he said, teasing. 

“We both have way too much on,” you panted against him. 

“Let me help you with that,” he slid his fingers below the band of the bralette and tugged it up and over your head, leaving you naked from the waist up. “Jesus Christ…” 

“What?” You asked, breathless. 

“And I thought you were gorgeous before,” his eyes went over you slowly, tracing the edges of you. “Fucking hell…” 

You smiled and arched into kissing him again, fumbling with the button and zipper on his jeans as you did. When you got his pants open, you slipped your hand inside his underwear, finding his thick, hard cock and stroking him. It was gentle at first, getting a feel for him and fuck he was hard as steel below your touch. He was also easily the biggest cock you’d ever held, so thick and long you knew you were going to be feeling him for hours after you were done. 

Not that you minded. You wanted nothing more than to walk around with a reminder of him inside you for a while. 

Joel’s hands ran over you until he reached your pants and underwear. He pulled them off together, pausing just before your panties would be so far down that they would expose your dripping, aching slit. He pulled his lips from you. 

“This really what you want?” He asked quietly, his eyes searching yours. 

“I’ve been wanting this since last night,” you smiled a little at him. 

“Fuck, I was hopin’ you’d say that.” 

He pulled what remained of your clothes off and cast it aside, nudging you down so you were flat on the bed. He ran his finger over your slit, dipping into you just enough to make your entrance try to grip him but not enough that it gave your body something to hold. You moaned. 

“Don’t worry, beautiful,” he pressed his finger against your clit, rubbing in circles, making you moan. “Gonna take real good care of you…” 

He trailed his finger back down and sank it into you as his thumb pressed against your clit, making your body go tight around him. You rocked your hips against him and arched your back and you heard the smile in his voice as your hands flew to your comforter, knotting in the fabric there. 

“There you go,” he said softly, kissing over your jaw to your throat, nipping and sucking you as he went. “Fuck you’re tight, need you to relax and come for me so I can get inside you…” 

He added another finger, hooking them up into you, pressing into your inner walls and making you get tense and tight before you came hard around him, pussy throbbing so hard it almost hurt. 

“You’re gonna feel so goddamn good,” he groaned as he slid his fingers from you. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear and pulled them down with his jeans before he stroked himself, his fingers still slick with you as he did. 

“One sec,” you managed to find your voice and you stretched back to reach into your nightstand and grabbed a box of condoms. You needed to open it and pull one foil packet apart from the rest. “Sorry, haven’t needed one of these in a bit…” 

“Won’t hear me arguin’,” he half smiled at you. Fuck, that fucking dimple. You opened the condom and slid it on his tip, watching his chest heave as you did. You looked up at him through your eyelashes as you took his covered tip in your mouth, wrapping your lips around him and using them to unroll the condom the rest of the way onto his thick, hard length. “Fuck, beautiful, tryin’ to rush me through this?” 

You just sucked him for a moment, his head lodged at the back of your throat as you started to work his shaft with your mouth. His hand flew to your head, fingers twisting in your hair, as you went. He moaned as your tongue pressed against the underside of him before curling around his shaft. His grip on your hair tightened and you picked up the pace, all but choking yourself on his cock, not able to help yourself, until he pulled you back off him sharply, abruptly. 

“Really don’t want things to be over that fast,” he panted, tilting his head back toward the ceiling for a moment. “Fucking hell you’re good at that…” 

You smirked a little and he pushed you back down onto the bed before lining his cock up with your entrance. He paused and you moaned, rocking your hips against him, your whole body feeling like a spring that was coiled a bit too tight. His hands splayed wide over your thighs for a moment before sliding over your stomach, your breasts, back down again. 

“Still want this?” He asked, voice needy. 

“Want you,” you panted, nodding. “Need you, need you inside me…” 

“Good,” he said, his large hands spread on your thighs, holding you open for him, watching where he was entering you as his cock split you open. He moaned, panting for breath. “Fuck, gonna be addicted to you, just fuckin’ know it…” 

You pressed your hips up into him as he filled you totally, collapsing onto you as his hips met yours. He stilled in you, giving you a moment to adjust to the delicious stretch of him inside you. He was big enough that - if you hadn’t been so desperate for him, if he hadn’t already made you come once - you were sure that it would feel like he was breaking you in two. Like this, though, it was all pleasure with a hint of pain, just enough to make you feel so fucking full you thought you might burst with it. 

He started slowly but forcefully, dragging his cock back so only his head was inside you, his pace so slow that you felt his head on every ridge inside you. But he thrust himself back into you hard, like he couldn’t bear not feeling you again immediately, like being without you was almost painful. 

But he increased his pace, thrusting himself deep into you and pulling back before changing again, more rocking his hips down into you than fully thrusting into you. It meant he kept almost constant pressure on your clit, that the head of him was all but permanently against the spot inside that you immediately sought out whenever you used your vibrator. Your back arched into him and your pussy was so tight around him you were certain you couldn’t get any more wanting. 

“Fuck, need to feel you come while I’m inside you,” he managed, sliding his arms below you to press your bare chest against him. “Please, Beautiful, fuck, please come for me…” 

“Joel!” You cried out his name as you came around him and he fucked into you for another moment before you felt him throb inside as he spilled into the condom. 

He collapsed on top of you, panting for breath and you ran your hands over his broad back. After a minute, he kissed you gently and pulled himself from your wrung out body and lying beside you. 

“So,” he was still short of breath. “Got anythin’ around here I can come by and fix tomorrow?” 

You laughed a little, trying not to think of the fact that you’d just fucked your best friend’s dad. Trying not to think of the fact that there was no way this could be a one time thing. 

“Oh, I’m sure I can think of something,” you said. “I’m sure I can think of a lot of things.” 

[jar-of-maise]

incorrect quotes with my new fav trio

starring wriothesley, clorinde and neuvillette bc i said so

Wriothesley: What do you think Neuvillette will do for a distraction? Clorinde: They’ll probably, like, make a noise or throw a rock. That’s what I would do. *Building explodes and several car alarms go off* Clorinde: ... or he could do that.

...

Wriothesley: How's the sexiest person here~? Neuvillette: I don't know, how are they~? Wriothesley: I- Clorinde, from across the room: I'm doing great, thanks!

...

Clorinde: Do you ever want to talk about your emotions, Wriothesley? Wriothesley: … No. Neuvillette: I do! Clorinde: I know, Neuvillette. Neuvillette: I’m sad! Wriothesley: We know, Neuvillette

...

Neuvillette, to Wriothesley and Clorinde: *holding knife out in front of them* Are you or are you not an enemy of the people?! Wriothesley: ... Clorinde: ... Wriothesley: That is such an open-ended question. Clorinde: Yeah, it really depends on a lot of different factors-

...

Wriothesley: We need a diversion. I say Neuvillette gets naked. Neuvillette: No. Clorinde: Who are we trying to distract again?

...

Clorinde, at Neuvillette: Would you like to stay for dinner? Wriothesley, from the kitchen: Would you like to stay forever!?!

...

Clorinde: Ooh, somebody has a crush Wriothesley: Pfft, I don’t have a crush on Neuvillette I just think they’re cool, it’s not like I stay up at night thinking about them. *Later that night* Wriothesley, very much awake: Uh oh.

...

Neuvillette: There's no way they like me back. Clorinde: Wriothesley would throw himself in front of a moving car for you. Neuvillette: Wriothesley would throw himself in front of a moving car for fun.

...

Neuvillette: Why is everyone so obsessed with top or bottom? Honestly, I’d just be excited to have a bunk bed. Clorinde: Clorinde: I'm gonna tell them. Wriothesley: Don't you dare.

...

Wriothesley: Is there a cactus where your heart should be? Clorinde: What’s up your ass this morning! Neuvillette: *walks in* ...Hey. Clorinde: Hmm… nevermind. Wriothesley: WAIT NO!

...

Wriothesley: Do you cook? Neuvillette: I made a cake once. Clorinde: Yeah, it was good. Neuvillette: Really? Clorinde: Don’t make me lie twice, Neuvillette.

...

Neuvillette: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming? Clorinde: Can everyone in this godforsaken group please learn the skill called "Think Before You Speak"? Wriothesley: Ya know... it might be.

...

Clorinde: Did Wriothesley just tell me he loved me for the first time? Neuvillette: Yeah, he did. Clorinde: And did I just do finger guns back? Neuvillette: Yeah, you did.

...

Wriothesley: Where are my fucking keys? Clorinde: Wriothesley, Neuvillette is around, can you say it a little nicer? Wriothesley: May I ascertain the whereabouts of my FUCKING KEYS?!

...

*Neuvillette dies in a game with ships* Wriothesley: This ship is no longer a ship of love, it's a ship of vengeance, a gavel of justice against all that is wrong in the world, showing no mercy, as no mercy was shown to us. Wriothesley: The spark of love will now fuel the fires of destructive glory as I wage my war across the world with righteous fury. Clorinde: Legend has it that Neuvillette still haunts the ship, stealing my fucking drinks. Neuvillette: Of course I do.

...

Wriothesley: How do you tell someone that you wanna have sex with them in a polite way? Neuvillette: Excuse me [insert name]. Would you give me the honours of indulging in sexual activities with you? Clorinde: What the fuck is wrong with you two?

...

Clorinde: Hey, no, you stay out of this, this is between me and Wriothesley! Neuvillette: So Wriothesley knows about this? Clorinde, walking away: No, this is between me and me!

...

Neuvillette: *is wearing silk pants* How does this look? Wriothesley: Like its slips on and off really easily. Neuvillette: Wriothesley: No, I didn't mean it like that- Clorinde: We know what you meant.

...

Clorinde: What have you done with Neuvillette? Wriothesley: Nothing. Why, do you think I should?

...

Neuvillette, gardening: Hey, can you bring me the hoe? Wriothesley: Yeah, sure. *A few minutes later* Wriothesley: Here you go. Neuvillette: Wriothesley: Clorinde: Why am I here?

...

Wriothesley: I’m this close to falling in love with Neuvillette. Clorinde: Your fingertips are touching. Wriothesley: Exactly.

...

Neuvillette: Would you take a bullet for me? Wriothesley: ...yes? *Clorinde angrily burst into the room* Neuvillette: *running away* Great, thanks!

guys i love them a healthy amount i swear. NOW DIE ON THIS HILL WITH ME

PART II is now up!

[captain-n-crunchies]

Suki Pookie! 💕

Katsuki Bakugo x Bimbo reader

Katsuki Bakugo... a blond baddie with explosion powers and a itty bitty waist, with an attitude of a firecrack time 10000 nobody in Katsuki life thought he'll EVER find someone to love, to cherish, to care for for years to come... until you y/n!

Fresh from America and glowing brown skin showing off your latest hero designs you became U.A's hero design in training student. Moving from America to Japan wasn't easy with clothes and clothes packed in boxes tou couldn't move a giant leopard print high heel chair into that small ass dorm?? But a very talkie green haired boy, a girl with the face of Kirby with a bob and, a boy who refers to him as class president soon helps you move in and your designer life has been perfect!

// Firstly how did this glamorized girl with such beautiful hair and eyes ever came to romanticized a bad attitude having boy like Katsuki? Well after moving in and getting a internship you had got the first task of your career: Design 3 hero suits and sumbit them to the respective heros. Sounds easy looking at each new fist year you saw your very first guinea pigs; Ida, Monoma, and Bakugo. Ida was perfect after seeing his quick and grabbing some help from the tech teams you made a beautiful looking robot suit perfect for mobility, then Monoma has a copying quirk but has more of a regal asshole type behavior with some time periods research and grabbing his input you created him a very fine suit. Then Bakugo and as you remeber he was an pain in the ass...

FIRSTLY, he already had an design in mind which was terrible, the gauntlets were nice but it didn't have any practicality with how big they were, then the outfit was giving him enough arm area for him to move very restrictive like he wearing velcro, then he had the nerve to add a mask which is never cute on ANYTHING. Telling him his faults was like talking to a argumentative wall he wouldn't just listen but, after three long nights of making specialized gaulets, finding a cloth that would help him produce more sweat, and a mask design you made him hero costume which he didn't say he liked nor disliked. After your first task you fix up any things like Deku bunny ear thing which was totally a werid kink you think he has... and Momo having trouble with zippers, and bakugo came to you alot more when it came to updating his suit with miniscule things like a button.

So, after like literally months of him just coming g to me and making work more than I should we finally exchange numbers and instagrams! He doesn't have many follwers nor does he post but it's ok my page had enough room and after a few videos of us hanging out and posting my followers made us a ship name! It was sooo cute but he just scoff and said it wouldn't happen, such a liar.

Now headcanons!!

☆ So firstly it took months almost your whole first year to even get Suki poo to ever think of you in a non-friendly manner, like Izuku he just saw you as a friend maybe even a best friend until Mina and Kirishima told him every time you and him would talk hell talk more softer with you

" Doesn't mean anything pinky shes a fucking crybaby"

" Duh! You care about her feelings omg! KIRI ITS LIKE A SLOWBURN"

" Yeah bro! Talking to a girl nicely is very manly and- hey! Where he's going!"

☆ After that Suki started to think about his glittery friend a lot more, thinking about how kissing her would feel is your favorite snack place his favorite only because he like you getting those panda chocolate biscuit things? Does he find Choco cat kinda of cute because you said he's smart like him? His mind is always racing and eveytime you own your pretty mouth he just wants to bite your face off! In a cute way

☆ So when you two cuties do start to date its a very thick line of what pda he allow firstly no kissing or making out in public like your almost pro heros your reputation is always valuable, secondly no wrid ass nicknames ( the first time you called him Suki babes was infront of bakusquad and he almost exploded Sero from the face if the earth, he blushs and held your hand while he yelled at them so win-lose) and thrid, NO SAPPY LOVE STORIES TO HIS MOM: it just not cool for his bad boy persona.

☆ But Suki really chill beside a few bumb arguments when you feel like he thinks your stupid you two always make up example:

" You think I'm dumb huh!? I got a A+ in color theory!"

" What does that do in real life baby? Make sure the fashion police doesn't giveme ticket for wearing orange in winter?"

" THAT! AND the fact without color theory you in the summer wouldn't produce enough sweat for your firecrack special thingy!

" And your not bumb because only MY smart baby would know that"

So really he explains himself alot better to you because your very intoned emotionally.

☆ Suki really into petnames despite earlier setting he loves the sappy nicknames like suki babes, pookie, sukiies and anything over the top because it apart of your nature! He loves how you text with various emotions because he texts pretty bland and he loves cuddles alot even when it's hot he likes holding you. It really stems from the fact nobody but his friends couldn't truly give him a hug and his mom and dad the only one who really can get to him so having a partner really pushed his clingy nature up to 100000.9% He likes your American accent on some words in Japanese despite him speaking English clearly in an accent he likes to mock a southern accent if your from the south.

☆ Now onto the kinda of sad part, Suki can't really hear himself loudly because his explosion are pretty loud his hearing declines more and more, and you figured it out when you called for his name loudly from a room away and he never came til you had to closely come up to him so as his personal design you made hearing aids for him and his suit which helped a lot during missions. But once you told him about his hearing he got it check out, he had the hearing of a old man practically and out of that outcme he listens to your voice alot more just incase he won't hear it again

" And I told her I didn't have any diamonds but I had rhinestones and- are you even listening suki?"

"Mhm just like hearing yer voice, so didn't she take the diamonds"

" Oh! Well she didn't and then she asked again two days later! Like girl you know well you can rhinestones insted!"

☆ Anyways back to a little more happiness Suki bookie loves to cook for you since as your beastie he saw you had a terrible sweet tooth and you didn't always eat a healthy plate so every date he makes you a nice and hearty bowl of food and makes you eat it all, from healthy grains to irons and potassium, breakfast and dinner even he ruined your ice cream and made ypugurt bars! Which were good but still where is the artificial flavor On days he does training you like to make him bento box's Sanrio or his favorite TV show themed and he always keeps the little notes you put in his locker in a safe place incase he get a little lonely

☆ Suki when you first started dating was very quite, almost never really talking because he took relationship advice from his friends and he felt like his aggressive behavior would scare you until you sit him down and talk about his distance hell be more inclined to leave you alone making the relationship strain. SPEAKING OF FRIENDS, you are an official member of bakusquad your co-captain, first Lady, even the best member because he just proclaims you as such no matter what your always with bakusquad doing dumb shit (you usually record it) or despite his attitude towars him are with deku and his friends which he doesntlike how close you and shots got over a kid show but hey... ( he watched the show and he got so instred he has a tiny merchant area in his dorm)

☆ Katsuki parents are fashion designers so he knows a little bit about fashion wven though his first hero design wasn't great ge had a solid frame so any fashion dilemma you have is solved with him, he does not sugarcoat though if that shit is ulgy he says it with he FULL chest

" Ok! So what about denim skirt, green top and purple hate with a scarf-"

" Okay Demi Lovato "

..." ..Hoe don't play with me"

Like he doesn't even play with your hair either he's the only one who can look like a bum but you? HIS beautiful golden curly/loc baddie girlfriend in sweats when its a cute halter top you can wear? Even on days where you want to be a bump he makes you atleast accessorize a bit.

☆ lastly Suki is just your pintrest boyfriend, as I mentioned he doesn't really post only pics of you and repost of him and you and from your page to his people thought he was a stan page but no no that's is Katsuki Bakugo supporting HIS girl. Did I mention he's so possive whe he got kidnapped he was scared it would happen to you, he always his an eye on you and since you like to wander off hes always close behind to point he's your shadow and you couldn't want anything more; somebody flirts with you? BOOM 💣 He already scared them off and now your getting a pretzel, somebody dms you? BOOM 🔥 He got that blocked and reported and foe some reason banned from any shopping mall.

Overall suki pookie bear Bakugo is perfect and even though I personally didn't like him at one point I would date him simply for the hell of it!

[luceafarul-de-dimineata]

ngl kinda curious what happens if mc gets shipped with one of the nobles more often than the kings instead?

You know the AO3 ship popularity chart? Let's say they did one of those for the "child of Solomon" fandom.

Mod Jjok: The most popular ship with Mc for this month is... Mc x Sitri! With over 20k words in the longest running fanfiction on the ship reaching peak popularity in the middle of the month!

Dantalian: Sitri? Isn't that his majesty Satan's blood bag?

Glasylabolas: It turns out he has a name.

Paimon: I think this must be mistakeeeeen. I just recently wrote in collaboration with Astaroth a 25k words fanfic about Mc x Satan

Eligos: Oh, I mass-reported that one. I would apologise about that, but demons can't lie

Paimon: You're so sillyyyyy

Paimon: You just lost cuteness session priveledgessss

Eligos: :'(

Eligos: It was for the greater good of Tartaros

Bimet: Very noble of you, Eligos

Dantalian: Bimet! You fucking bitch, where's my MC body pillow????

Eligos: @Dantalian please take this in private we don't vibe with this negative energy here

Dantalian: Speak for yourself, I vibe with it!

Gamigin: Guys, what happened????? I was asleep, it's like 5 AM in here.

Gamigin: HOLY FUCK

Gamigin: How did Sitri of all people win????

Paimon: I mean, he's not that baaaaaaad

Gamigin: 20k words isn't even that long! How?!

Gamigin: I think we all have to come together to break the two up

Gamigin: Sitri is a common enemy and we shall stop him!

Dantalian: I'm sharpening my knife as we speak.

Gamigin: His Majesty Lucifer said I'm not allowed to leave Paradise Lost :'(

Dantalian: And?

Gamigin: And ... what?

Dantalian: He's not your dad! Even if he was, you don't have to listen to him. Do you think I listen to everything his majesty Asmodeus tells me to do? No. He may be my dad and my king, but I am in control of my own future.

Glasylabolas: Preach brother, preach

Gamigin: But I don't want to go against Lucifer's orders

Dantalian: Pussy

Glasylabolas: Pussy

Dantalian: First! Suck it old man!

Gamigin: Wait, doesn't Paimon live in the same country as Sitri?????

Gamigin: @Paimon, dearest, could you please kill Sitri for us? At least tranquillise him or something. Make sure he doesn't move anymore.

Paimon: I'm not murdering Sitri over thisssss

Paimon: I'll just ask him if it's true he's dating Mccccc

Dantalian: I think we should vote on Sitri's fate

Glasylabolas: Absolutely. I am for democracy.

Dantalian: Knife or gun death?

Glasylabolas: I prefere knife. Gun's make everything messier. How am I supposed to get arroused by a pile of guts?

Dantalian: Ask Ronové or Phenix and they'll tell you

Dantalian: I once saw Ronové remove an angel's intenstines and fucking them

Eligos: That's why nobody wants to visit Abaddon.

Dantalian: In his defence, it was kind of hot

Glasylabolas: I can imagine

Glasylabolas: I should call Ronové again...

Dantalian: He charges for one night stands now cause Abaddon lost its health care recently

Gamigin: Yeah, Morax told me about how you started getting curious about his eye hole.

Dantalian: I don't even blame Ronové for that one. I'm also curious what happens if you cum down someone's eye socket.

Paimon: Ok guyssssss

Paimon: I talked with himmmm

Paimon: It turns out that he just had a lot of black tea recently and wrote 20k words in a dayyyyy

Paimon: And a lot of people read it because Asteroth recomended it on his bloggggg

Dantalian: ah, yeah, shipping

Dantalian: Asmodeus x Mc for the win

Eligos: In your dreams

Dantalian: Yes. I do dream about that often.

Dantalian: I don't even know why y'all care so much for Mc's sex life

Dantalian: Having sex with only one partner is boring

Gamigin: Keep your shitty opinions to yourself.

Dantalian: Only if you make me

Eligos: I'm going to mass report it

Gamigin: I already did <3

Sitri: All of you are so mean

[Mod Jjok stopped comments on this post]

[badgerbl00d]

one piece boys with a jealous gf

☆ characters: zoro, law, sanji

☆ up next: cuddling with one piece boys ft. shanks, rayleigh, benn and roger

☆ a/n: for the anon request about being jealous of the boys... i deviated a little from the request but this will definitely have a part 2!

zoro 

“Three hundred million, hm?” she said batting her lashes at him, “With muscles like that I guess it’s not really a surprise!”

Zoro absent-mindedly nodded, much more focused on the katana in front of him. 

“What’s this one?”

“That’s a newer model, popularized in the East Blue. Fishermen designed it.”

“It’s lousy.”

She frowned, pouting her lips out, “That’s too bad, it looks nice when you use it.”

He gave a hmph in response, still mainly focused on the array of swords in the store. 

“Why don’t I show you a Wazamono we have in the back?”

Zoro paused for a moment, thinking about the offer.

“Alright,” he shrugged, and like a dumb puppy, started following her to the back.

You should have been shopping with Nami, but the two of you were rather unsatisfied with the stores you had to choose from and ended up going to get some snacks instead. 

And thanks to this unexpectedly short shopping spree, you had been outside the weapons shop watching most of this exchange.

Your cheeks turned a violent shade of red and Nami insisted that he was probably totally oblivious to the flirting. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

She sighed, “I guess not… Why don’t you go after him?”

“That’s embarrassing, and you’re probably right anyway.”

You sat with your shoulders crossed and closed your eyes, letting out a long exhale as you tried to think of something else.

“Oh, look! They’re coming back out.”

You decided you might as well go in now before your idiot of a boyfriend dug himself any deeper. 

You were seething as you made your way toward the shop, the woman very obviously lowering her shirt collar in front of him. 

“Zoro!” you walked into the shop, not even glancing towards the saleswoman. 

“Hi, Y/n,” he muttered, using different grips to try out the swords, recognizing you immediately, even if just by your voice. 

“Anything good?” you asked, slightly irritated when he didn’t even turn to look at you and called you by your name instead of his usual ‘baby’. 

“No,” he replied, still toying with the weapon.

You indulged in a small smirk as you watched the expression on the girl’s face turn into one of irritation. She rolled her eyes. 

“Are you sure you didn’t want to take another look in the back?” she asked, gently putting her hand on Zoro’s- which clearly irritated him, 

“You seemed to like what I had to offer.”

She put on an infuriatingly suggestive tone for the second part of her sentence. 

Zoro held the sword he’d been looking at up, any innuendo flying entirely over his head. 

“That’s true… Yeah, I guess I’ll take another look-”

You slapped the back of his head and grabbed the sword out of his hands, throwing them onto the counter.

“What the hell-”

“We’re going back to the ship. Now.”

You turned abruptly and stormed out of the shop, not bothering to pick up the weapons you’d ‘accidentally’ knocked over on your way out. 

Zoro offered the woman an apologetic look and ran after you. 

Nami was waiting for you both outside, and when he turned to her in hopes of being given some kind of indication of what just happened, she simply said, “You should probably think twice before you flirt with a woman for half an hour in front of your girlfriend.”

Zoro’s cheeks changed colors as he started to realize what everything had probably looked like from an outside perspective.

Oh, fuck.

Zoro decided that being another ฿100,000 in debt to Nami would be worth making it up to you, and after losing his breath trying to explain the situation to you he took you shopping for the rest of the night. 

The next few days you spent docked on the island, Zoro refused to move away from your side. 

And any looks or stares he got from women- young or old, pretty or not- were returned with only the most threatening of glances. 

law

“You can do something right Traffy?” Luffy’s concern for his crewmate made your chest ache, and you desperately hoped that it wasn’t too late for something to be done.

Unexpected cannon fire from a nearby Marine battleship caught you all off-guard and resulted in Nami passing out from a collision with the walls of the ship. 

Law nodded, gently picking her up.

You felt a slightly nauseating feeling forming in your stomach but quickly pushed it away because now was definitely not the time to be feeling jealous. 

You waited with the rest of the Strawhats as he worked on stabilizing her in the doctor’s office. 

Chopper was currently passed out as well from having overexerted himself and falling overboard. 

Usopp had taken care of it and he seemed to be doing okay but there was no way he could have helped anyone in his current state. 

A tense fifteen minutes later Law walked out to inform everyone that it wasn’t as bad of a hit to the head as it had seemed and she’d be waking up in a few hours.

“I’ll still run a few tests once she’s up just to make sure.”

“Y/n-ya,” Law called you over to him, “Want to help with Nami? I could use an extra hand.”

You nodded, happy he asked you. 

You walked with him to the infirmary, and when no one was around he held your hand.

The last thing either of you really wanted was for any one of the Strawhats to know you were together. 

When you entered the room Nami was awake.

“Torao! Thanks for all this,” she gestured towards the bandages and IV. 

“No problem, Nami-ya,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed as he pulled out his stethoscope.

“Write down the info I give you.”

You nodded and started writing down all the different numbers and medical jargon he threw at you. 

He talked with Nami and made no effort to include you in the conversation.

Nami’s chest had been bandaged and you tried your best to not think about the fact that he had been the one to bandage it. 

You fought back the urge to show any irritation on your face.

Law did not want any of them to know about you two. 

You knew Nami was just friendly and probably still kind of out of it, but the sickening feeling of insecurity started to seep into your body and you were becoming increasingly impatient with how damn long this was taking.

He was more talkative than usual, and you were positive that it had to do with the absolutely gorgeous woman in front of him. 

“One forty over seventy.”

He was treating you like a secretary! 

He cracked a terrible joke to Nami and when she actually laughed at it you decided you’d had enough.

You threw the notepad at him and walked out, telling him to take his own damn notes. 

He went to find you a few hours later, and ask if you were okay.

He found you painting your nails in the Sunny’s library. 

“I’m fine, Law.”

“Mmm... Definitely not true,” he said, sitting down next to you. 

“How’s the patient.”

Oh, he thought, That’s what this is about.

“Good. Stable. She should sleep soundly through the night.”

You said nothing.

“I appreciate your help back there!”

He pressed a light kiss to your cheek.

“Mhm.”

After a while of Law trying to get you to talk to him, you relented a little bit and agreed to let him read while you finished your nails.

After an hour you had almost forgiven him entirely, deciding that you were overreacting and it didn’t matter now that Chopper would be able to take care of her. 

You had just settled yourself against his chest when he spoke.

“I have to go check on Nami-ya soon.”

“But Chopper’s able to now.”

Law smiled, “I know. She’s still my patient.”

“I get it,” you said, jealousy having won, “I’d also be eager to play nurse if I had a patient as hot as her.”

“Bingo,” he replied. 

You bit the inside of your cheek and decided not to say anything, simply getting up, batting away his hands when he tried to grab hold of you.

You stormed out, slamming the door shut and ignoring how he called out for you to come back. 

You rolled your eyes as you heard Law laughing to himself. 

Law trusted you with his life. 

He had no secrets with you and you knew everything someone could possibly know about the doctor, reclusive and quiet as he may be.

But, just now, Law decided that there would be one thing you could never know:

How much he absolutely adored seeing you jealous.  

sanji

“Would you like another drink, beautiful?”

You rolled your eyes and hastily closed your book, gathering the few things you’d brought with you to the kitchen. 

“And my gorgeous Y/n-” he paused when he turned to see you headed toward the door, “Y/n where are you going?”

You closed the door behind you, ignoring him. 

It was easy to be jealous when Sanji was your crush. He’d never failed to shamelessly compliment other beautiful women, and you were not a stranger to that terrible feeling of jealousy spreading throughout your body. 

When Luffy announced that Boa Hancock would be staying with you all for a week or so you made a mental note to spend as much time in the library as possible.

You knew what you’d signed up for when you kissed Sanji for the first time, that it was in his nature to be a lover. 

Of course, he was desperately in love with you. If you asked him for something he’d have it done before you could finish your request, and he catered to you like he was your personal butler. 

Even though you weren’t official, it was clear that there were deeper feelings brewing between the kissing and touching. 

He’d never done anything worse than complimenting a woman, and you were beyond positive that he hadn’t kissed anyone after the two of you kissed, but he was so irritatingly articulate. 

You’d feel jealousy cloud your thinking when he’d talk to a woman, using turns of phrase that Shakespeare himself couldn’t have come up with. Of course, he was never more romantic or genuine than when he was with you, but you wanted that attention entirely to yourself. 

Boa Hancock’s arrival and subsequent welcoming had played out exactly as you had expected.

Heat flooded your cheeks and face when you watched a small trickle of blood pouring from his nose, and he ran to greet her. 

You left before you could watch anything else happen and still hadn't so much as introduced yourself to her. 

Logically, you understood that it wasn’t her fault but her insufferable vanity didn’t help. 

And though she never even pretended to entertain Sanji, she clearly didn’t mind the treatment. 

Every meal revolved around her, her favorite foods, and pastries that were pink and heart-shaped. Cocktails and drinks and snacks for Boa. Everything for her. 

You weren’t even sure he had noticed you were ignoring him. 

As much as you hated to admit it, you’d decided to try some tactics of your own. Your skirts got shorter and your heels higher. 

Today you’d opted for a pair of leggings he’d mentioned liking and a sports bra that was low cut. 

It had worked, until she walked into the room. 

You couldn’t exactly blame him, despite your evident dislike for her she was undeniably gorgeous and you caught yourself staring at her more than once. Luckily, you always noticed before she did. 

As you made your way toward the library you saw Sanji through the kitchen window, not failing to notice that he was preparing a mountain of heart-shaped pastries.

What a clown, you thought. 

A sudden clanking of metal jolted you out of your own thoughts. You turned to see Zoro mid-workout, dropping weights onto the lawn, ruining the grass.

He was sweaty and the sun was helping highlight the pounds upon pounds of intricately toned and sculpted muscle that covered him. 

You stared for longer than you meant to. 

“Oi!” Zoro called out to you. 

“Hey, Zoro,” you walked over to him. 

“You okay?”

You nodded, looking up at him with a confused expression. 

“You look like shit,” he explained.

“Thanks, man.”

You asked Zoro what he was up to and he started explaining the different workouts he was doing. 

While he explained you noticed that Sanji could see the two of you from the kitchen window where he was now washing dishes. 

A cruel idea popped into your head and a devilish smile made its way onto your face. 

Sanji wasn’t your boyfriend, and based on the way he’d been acting around every different woman he saw you figured he didn’t want to be. 

If he just wanted to occasionally make out with you and throw his attention and touch at every other woman on the seas then that was fine by you. 

But two could play at that game. 

You made eye contact through the kitchen window, and smiled at him. 

Good. He was watching you.

“Hey, Zoro,” you started, “Need a sparring partner?”

[goodluckclove]

Some Loose Thoughts on Queer Rep (Specifically Aspec Rep)

(Just in advance I'm going to dunk on Alastor from Hazbin Hotel like a lil' bit, as a treat. Mainly the team that made him and what he represents, but still. If that's rage bait for you, I suggest maybe dipping out now)

I have a theory that queer media needs both queer characters and queer genre characters. The difference is very important.

I think a queer character would be a character in a story about their queerness. For some reason the only two characters I could think of are the guy from Love, Simon (What was his name again?) and the protagonist from Rubyfruit Jungle, which should express the weird and complicated relationship I have with this particular archetype.

Queer stories centered around queerness are definitely needed, but at the same time I feel like we're just starting to come to terms with the desperate need for the alternative, which are queer characters in genre media that contain overarching plots larger than their sexuality. Not separate, necessarily (Their queerness certainly influences things), but just beyond. This is more accessible for a variety of artists, which is also the reason why it can be a flop or a massive success.

We get more of this than ever for gay and sapphic characters, as well as some trans folks and occasionally non-binary. It's definitely way less seen in aspec characters, and even less respected. I started thinking this way because the internet is flooded with references to fucking Alastor from Hazbin Hotel as an aroace character and - like - god, I don't get it.

Like you can have your serial killer comfort character, that's fine. But latching onto him as representation for the entire aspec community when he was only confirmed to be aroace through a reference in a livestream and the weakest joke onscreen is pretty disheartening. It definitely reads like this part of his identity was added pretty late in his character development, and by a team of people that didn't seem to consider what the response and reaction would be and how they'd handle it.

I also wish the newest aspec icon in media wasn't created by a team so adamant on encouraging shipping culture above actually respecting the identity they've decided to provide representation for. Like I see it means a lot to people to have an aroace character doing something cool in a fun TV show that doesn't necessarily have anything to do with their identity. Then there's like four other people right behind that person who really wants that person to be romantic and fuck.

And like, yeah, aroace people can do that sometimes. It's a spectrum, I know. But can't we start with a baseline representation before providing proof of fluidity?

I just think we deserve better. Like a character who in the media is established to be aspec, and people are like "great" and move on to fight robots or do magic or whatever. And the person can be morally grey, or even a total dick, but like I'd personally prefer something with a little more depth than Hot Topic genericism.

Like don't get me wrong, I'll take some sort of eldritch horror as my representation, but...make him at all horrifying? Like everyone talks about how he has Eldritch powers, which I know to mean unfathomable and maddening. But I've seen everything he does in the canon of the show and it is both incredibly fathomable and makes me feel normal and sane. Yog-Sothoth this man is not.

But yeah, I don't think there's a solution here besides more aspec artists creating aspec characters in their work. That way people can still like Alastor if they want, but he's not like the only viable option in terms of representation in the media. Let me see lovingly-crafted cool guys and dipshits and chaos goblins and little babies and True Horrors, all of whom have varying degrees of distaste or indifference towards sex and romance.

Do it. We need it. Please.

[kaminocasey]

Joyride

Summary: You and Hunter have been ignoring your feelings for each other for a year, but can't any longer when you're sent on a mission together.

Pairing: Hunter x f!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Angst, Enemies to Lovers, SMUT, Sex on a speeder bike, unprotected p in v (wrap it up friends), Cid (lol)

WC: 3.2K

A/N: OKAY don't be mad at me for having Cid in this bc I started writing this way before that finale and before we knew that Cid was a traitorous asshole, so I'm sorry about that. BUT sex with Hunter on a speeder bike should make up for it, right?? (Also, if you saw me post this earlier on my main, no you didn't lol.)

TAGLIST FORM │Bad Batch Masterlist

“Dark and Broody, Mopey… You two will be going on this one alone.” Cid points at you and Hunter.

That’s what Cid calls you, Mopey. Even though she’s known you your whole life and absolutely knows your name. You moped about Hunter to her one time and now the name has stuck.

“What?” You and Hunter ask, simultaneously and then look at each other uncomfortably.

Crossing your arms, you glare. “We don’t do alone missions.” 

“That’s not my problem. I need a couple who won’t stick out too much.” Cid starts to walk away toward her office, knowing you’ll follow. “It’s easy. In and out. Get the drive. Bam. You’re done.”

“A couple?” Hunter asks, still trying to catch up. 

“Yeah, a couple. Ever heard of the word?” Cid sits at her desk, rummaging through her drawers. “Two people who are together.”

“We aren’t together, though.” Hunter glances at you as you lean in the doorway with crossed arms, looking at you as if you have some sway here.

You’ve known Cid your whole life. She apparently used to run with your mom back in the day and when your mom passed, Cid took you in. She looks up at you, knowingly and you shake your head, walking out so you can leave Hunter to argue with her. It was a lost cause arguing with her. You learned that long ago. 

“Good luck.” Echo tells you, smirking from the bar. 

You flip him off and then look to make sure Omega wasn’t watching. Thankfully, she and Wrecker are in a heated Dejarik game while Tech watches over Wrecker’s shoulder. You can’t help but be grateful for this little group that you and Cid found a year ago. 

“You know, you’re pacing.” You tell Hunter from the co-pilot’s seat as the ship travels through hyperspace.

It’s quiet without the rest of the Batch, you notice. Too quiet. It occurs to you how little time you and Hunter have been around each other without any of the others around. 

“Yeah. And?” He snips.

You prop your feet up in the seat in front of you, your dress slipping up to your thigh slightly. He looks down only for a second and walks off to the bunks to do something. With a roll of your eyes, you pull up your datapad and send off a message to Echo.

You: He’s impossible.

Echo: What do you want me to do about it? 

You: Just complaining I guess?

Echo: You mean being mopey?

You: Fuck you.

Echo: LOL

You sigh and toss your datapad back into the seat, groaning in frustration.

“What is it?” Hunter stands in the doorway.

“Nothing.” You turn your seat around to look out at the blue hues of hyperspace. 

“Right…” Hunter disappears again until right before you come up on Coruscant. 

“So the plan-” Hunter stands in front of you when you land.

“I know the plan.” You stare up at him.

“Right. Okay then.” He sighs as he hands you your ear piece, giving you a curious look as he stares down at you.

“Okay.” You nod and open the hatch.

You leave the ship together, coming up on the speeder that one of Cid’s people left for you. He looks at the speeder bike. 

“Don’t even think about it.” You grumble and point at your outfit. “Dress, remember?” 

He chuckles. “Right.”

With a slight roll of your eyes, you get in the passenger side of the speeder. As he takes off, you try your hardest to not look at him in his nice outfit. He’s wearing a dark red collared shirt, the top two buttons undone, slightly revealing his tattooed chest, dress pants, and a gold chain you didn’t know he had. 

You find yourself wanting to ask him about the chain and about the tattoo that was clearly a continuation of the half skull on his face. You’re tempted to question him if it goes all the way down… 

“What?” Hunter picks up on your staring.

You go warm in the face instantly and look out your side of the speeder as he continues to drive. “Nothing.” He chuckles. “If you say so.”

Arriving at the casino, Hunter starts to get out but you stop him, leaning on the edge of the door. “What are you doing? Keep the speeder running in case I run into trouble. Thought you’ve done this before?” You smirk.

“I have.” He scowls at you. “You’re gonna go in alone, dressed like that?” 

You raise your eyebrows. “Really? We’re gonna have this conversation?” 

He thinks about it for a second. “Look… I know you can handle your own-”

“Great, then I’ll see you in a few minutes. Keep it running, I’ll be in and out.” You ignore him and walk away into the casino. 

“Nothing wrong with backup, you know?” He grumbles in your ear as you walk up the steps to the second floor.

“Hush.” You tell him, smiling at the coat check person, politely.

You can feel some eyes on you as you walk onto the casino floor. 

“You’re breathing heavily.” Hunter complains in your ear on the comm as you make your way through the casino full of people. 

“No I’m not.” You roll your eyes. “You just have supersonic hearing.” 

He chuckles. “I think you mean ultrasonic.”

“Maker, you’ve been hanging around Tech too much.” You shake your head to yourself.

Stars, why does his voice sound like that? It sounds like pure sex and it feels like he’s practically purring in your ear. And it’s going right to your-

“You good?” His voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

“Yep.” You take a wine glass off a waitresses tray and gulp it down in one go, trying not to think about what Hunter’s voice does to you.

“Please try not to get wasted.” He warns you.

“How did you know-” You put the empty glass on a passing tray and keep moving through the crowd of people who were clearly rich and well off. 

“‘Supersonic’ hearing, remember?” He teases, lightly. “You… ahem… swallow loudly.” 

He coughs and you try to not think about what he could be thinking of. 

“Focus, Sarge.” You smirk, just trying not to argue with him for once. It’s really not a secret that you two don’t really see eye to eye, but that’s not your problem. It’s his. He’s the one who always starts the arguments. Like now, complaining about your breathing and your swallowing. If anyone deserved to complain, it’s you. You’re in this ridiculously snug dress and stupid heels and you’re ready to peel them off. 

“Miss?” You hear a man’s voice behind you.

When you turn around, you find a handsome, young gentleman with a blue scarf that you’d been looking for. He’s supposed to be the one who gives you the drive. 

“Hi. Luc?” You smile.

Easy mission, thankfully. In and out just like you told Hunter, making him wait out in the speeder. 

“That’s me.” He grins. “They didn’t tell me that a beautiful woman was supposed to be meeting me. Could I buy you a drink first?”

You try to not roll your eyes as you keep a fake smile plastered on your face. 

“Wow. What a tool.” Hunter’s voice fills your ear.

“That’s alright, thank you. Just the drive please.” You start to hand out your hand.

“Pity… Well in that case, I’m supposed to tell you,” He suddenly pulls a blaster out, keeping it low. “Cad Bane sends his regards.” 

Kriff. Of course.

Acting quickly, you shove his hand away at the same time that he releases the trigger, sending blaster fire up into the air. You elbow him in the throat, making him double over in pain, gasping for breath, as you try to knock the blaster out of his hand. Suddenly, more blaster fire starts coming your way and you realize you’ve been set up.

All around you people scream as they scramble for safety in the casino.

“What’s happening?” Hunter’s voice is in your ear, panicked.

“Don’t worry about it. Keep the speeder running.” You grunt as you make for the balcony across the room, just hoping your heels hold up, pulling one of your blasters out and shooting at the people that are shooting at you.

“Don’t worry about it, she says, as blaster fire is literally firing around her.” Hunter mutters. 

“Will you please shut up?” You snap as you start to climb over the side of the balcony, shooting toward the top of the building. 

You look down for Hunter in the speeder but see him on a speeder bike instead.

“Where’s the speeder?” You yell.

“This is quicker!” He calls back.

With an annoyed groan, you stick your blaster back into your thigh holster and slide down the rope landing in Hunter’s lap, straddling his thighs while facing him. He lets out an ‘oof’ and takes off as people come running out of the lobby, shooting at the two of you.

“You could have let me climb off to get behind you.” You glare.

“No time. Hold on.” He revs the bike and starts going even faster through the undercity of Coruscant, causing you to press yourself to his chest. 

You roll your eyes. “We were set up.”

“Yeah, no kriff.” Hunter rests his chin on your shoulder so you can see.

It almost feels natural… having him against you. You quickly push that thought away as you go to argue with him again. 

“You know what-” You’re cut off as you realize people in speeders are after you, still shooting at you. 

“A little help here would be nice.” He grunts, taking a sharp turn, trying to buy you some time so you can grab your blasters. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m on it.” You pull your blasters out of both thigh holsters. 

When you try to situate yourself so you can shoot better, you only realize you accidentally brush up against Hunter’s crotch when he lets out a soft groan. 

“Sorry…” You try. “Just shoot.” He says, through gritted teeth.

You immediately start to take out each shooter, precisely hitting each person so well that you can’t help but let out a chuckle.

“Crosshair would be so proud of me right now.” You compliment yourself.

“I’m sure.” Hunter grumbles as he shoots through an alley and then takes a hard right up into some sort of abandoned warehouse. When he thinks the coast is clear, he finally leans back, breathing heavily. You can’t even tease him about it, because your chest is heaving against his. With the deep glare that he’s giving you, his hate for you becomes evident. 

“You know, you may hate me… and still not trust me… but I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me for the long haul.” You shrug, tucking your blasters back into your holsters. 

“I don’t hate you.” He rolls his eyes.

“Then why-” You start but he crushes his lips to yours, shutting you up. 

Every nerve ending in your body stands straight up and you fight between the urge to shove him off of you and also wanting more of him. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer and he grips your hips, grinding you against his hardened length, straining in his pants. 

“You feel what you do to me?” He rasps against your lips, his voice full of need. “So, I don’t hate you, I’m-”

Without another word, your hands fall down to his zipper and pull his length free. His sentence is cut off as you rest your foreheads together, watching your hand expertly start to pump his cock. He’s thicker than you imagined he’d be. You’re definitely not complaining though.

“Fuck, mesh’la…” He groans, gripping your hips tighter. 

The rumble of the speeder sends vibrations to your core and you can’t help the wetness that gathers in your panties, begging to coat Hunter’s perfect cock. 

You raise up slightly, moving your panties to the side as you sink down on him and he lets out an incredibly loud groan while he grips you so tightly that you know you’re going to bruise. Maybe that’s what he’s going for. To remind you of today, no matter what happens when you get back to Ord Mantell. 

You let out a soft gasp when his hands roam down to your ass and start to raise you up just to pull you back down onto his cock harshly. You’d been lying to yourself… You don’t hate him. You want Hunter just as bad, if not more. 

He pulls your body flush against his, kissing your shoulder. “Been waiting for so long for this.” 

You can’t help the needy whimpers that escape your lips for this man. The two of you had been fighting your urges for so long that you’d been convinced you hated each other. But now… 

“Feels so fucking good… So perfect… made for me.” Hunter babbles incoherently and you grind against him as much as you can. You pull away to make sure you’re not slipping but he grips your chin and pulls your gaze back to his own. “Keep your eyes on me. I’ve got you, you’re not going anywhere.”

And fuck, if that isn’t the hottest thing a man’s ever said to you…

He takes your fingers and pulls them to his mouth, taking them in his mouth. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire. He knows exactly what he’s doing because he smirks around your digits before guiding your fingers down to your clit. 

“Fuck… Hunter.” You groan, keeping your eyes on him, lips parted as the sounds echo off the metal walls of the warehouse as you rub your clit for him. 

“That’s it, mesh’la… need you to cum for me so I can fill this pretty little cunt up.” He whispers gruffly and you nearly come apart just at those words alone. “If… if that’s okay with you.”

“Please.” You gasp with a desperate nod.

You’d never known Hunter had this side to him. Sure you called him dark and broody as a joke, but this was something else entirely. He’s looking at you with such voracity, that you don’t think there’s any coming back from it. You want him to look at you this way forever. 

Pulling Hunter back in for a kiss so vehement, while still rubbing your clit, you near your edge. Your mind goes back to what he was saying earlier about not hating you. He didn’t give you a reason for acting the way he did.

“Hunter…” You whimper.

“What?” He rests his forehead against yours, still fucking you amorously. 

When he looks at you, it’s with such a softness that you can’t help but melt. 

“What…” You groan as he pushes you back on the speeder, reaching deeper into you with his cock. “What were you going to say… you don’t hate me… and?” 

“Right now?” He asks, looking down between you with a breathless chuckle. 

You nod as that familiar heat pools toward your warmth. “As… good a time… as any, right?” 

The way he’s fucking you is absolutely ethereal. You don’t think you could go back to how things were before even if you wanted to. And you definitely don’t want to, right?

“Maker…” He grits with a breathy chuckle as you clench around him. “I’m- fuck… I’m in love with you, okay?” 

As if that’s all you needed to hear, you cum, making his name sound like an entire prayer. Because that’s what coming around Hunter’s cock feels like. Absolutely spiritual. 

He grins down at you and pulls you back up into his lap, wrapping his arms around you, fucking into you mercilessly, overwhelming both of you. 

When his hips falter as he grips your sides, digging his fingers into you as he fills you up so fully that you spill out over the both of you. You can’t help but let out a soft laugh and then he lets one out as well.

“If I knew you’d react like that when I declared my love for you, I would’ve done it sooner.” He winks and you playfully slug him. 

“You’re very lucky I don’t actually hate you.” You lean in closely and the breath in his throat hitches.

“I’ll say.” He agrees before crushing his lips to yours.

Neither of you are sure what’s next for you, but you’re already feeling more hopeful. Maybe it’ll help that you won’t be arguing for once when you break the news to Cid that the mission failed. 

“I uh… actually wanted to show you something while we’re on Coruscant.” He coughs, awkwardly. 

“Okay?” You look at him curiously.

He grins as he helps you off the bike to sit behind him again. You feel the slight run of cum start to drip down your thigh. 

“Oh…” You look down and Hunter looks at your thighs as well, his grip on the handlebars tightening. 

“Do you want to run by the ship and clean up before I show you the surprise?” He smirks.

“Please.” You nod, going warm in the face as you hop on the back of the bike. “I’d also like to change. These heels are the worst.” 

He chuckles and relaxes into you when you wrap your arms around his waist and then takes off back toward the Marauder. It’s a strange feeling being so close to him after having so much distance between the two of you the past year. 

“So, what is it with you and speeder bikes?” You ask him, resting your chin on his shoulder.

He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“Yes you do.” You start to release his waist but he quickly grabs your arms and pulls them against him again. 

“I’ve always wanted one. Since I saw one of the Alpha’s with one on Kamino when I was, you know, a “kid”.” He admits with a shrug.

“That’s sweet.” You kiss his shoulder. “We’ll get you one, one day.” 

He pulls one of your hands up to his lips and kisses it and you can’t help but smile.

When you pull back up to the Marauder, Hunter helps you off the bike, like a gentleman.

“Didn’t know you had such a sweet side to you.” You tease as he pulls you against himself, looking down into your eyes with his own warm brown ones. 

He smirks as he kisses you again. “Maybe we can shower… together… before I take you to that surprise.”

You find yourself desperate to have his mouth somewhere else.

“Yes please, Sarge.” You wrap your arms around him and he starts to lift you up but pauses as his ears perk up toward the Marauder and then pulls away to grab one of your blasters out of your holster, pointing it toward the hatch. 

“Hunter, what is it?” You whisper. 

All of a sudden, you hear a blaster shot come out from behind you and feel a bolt of electricity travel throughout your body. By the time you drop, you realize it’s too late and you’ve been stunned. The last thing you see before you pass out is Hunter going into attack mode.

TAGS: @twistedstitcher27 @misogirl828 @rebel-finn @rexandechosandwich @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @agenteliix @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @quigonswife8 @idlenesses @redheadgirl @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @brownstalebread @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3 @queen-of-many-fandoms

[poweringthroughthis]

trouble maker | wong yukhei

sfw (suggestive at the end, a curse word)

ship: lucas x male reader

desc: lucas and (name) hate each other for the stupidest of reasons. but as their debut showcase approaches, they realize they might have to work together.

warnings: angst

The tension between lucas and (name) was palpable as they sneakily eyed each other in the practice room, waiting their days for their turn to debut in the kpop industry. The two were set to take the world of music by a storm in their respective duos.

Their agency was committed to try out a new style of teams. With the globalization of kpop and gradually spreading acceptance for queer idols(thanks to icons like Holland), the officials deemed it fit to launch two different duos, all males, centering their primary concept on 'chemistry' or 'love'.

(name) and his teammate Mark, panted in their ending pose, backs touching each other's as the music finished playing. lucas and hendery were observing them with keen eyes, catching their breaths after finishing their round of rehearsals earlier.

hendery whistled, "that was amazing guys!", complimenting his labelmates as Mark and (name) offered tired smiles. the latter turned to smirk at lucas who looked annoyed at hendery's praise for their competitors.

"yeah, (name) can dance" lucas started, "..for a beanpole., he finished with a light snort, making the taller male sport an angered look.

"fuck off, shortie. at least i don't need a ladder to reach the top shelf" he retorted.

"that's an exaggeration. and at least i don't have a face that looks like a deer caught in headlights!"

"you-" the fiery exchange was interrupted as the door to the room opened, the common manager-to-be of both duos making an appearance, instantly making the 4 males stand up as the man never barges in during practice unless it is important.

"Guys." he began with a serious tone and a hint of restlessness in his tone. "we need to talk. there's been some..changes".

"Is this what I think it is?" Mark was the first one to inquire, indirectly voicing out each trainee's worst fear but the manager was quick to intercept.

"No, no. God, no. you boys are still debuting. you deserve it. but there are some..line-up changes. apparently, the company now feels it's a waste of potential variety to debut two duos in the same concept. "

the boys exchanged looks with each other. they'd been together for a while now, going through thick and thin as good friends. it'd be a shame to part ways so close to their debut, after promising to fulfill their dreams together.

"so we had a meeting and decided on one hip-hop duo, and the other to continue in the same theme. naturally, hendery and mark have been paired up together as they fit the rap concept more." he finished explaining the news.

soon after, the manager had left, leaving the boys reeling from the news. at least it was no new members and the 4 were only shuffled amongst themselves, they told each other.

days passed, and mark and hendery started spending more time in the studio instead of dance practices, working on their verses. having love for hip-hop since forever, the two seemed happy which reassured their friends.

lucas and (name), on the other hand, were having a hard time toleration one another. even though they were extremely professional, personal feelings kept aside as long as the song played but despite their undeniable talent and charisma, their constant bickering threatened to overshadow their potential success.

the dynamic between the two was anything but harmonious. they clashed over everything, from song choices to choreography to who should get more screen time in their debut music video. each disagreement only served to fuel their rivalry, pushing them further apart even as they were forced to work together for the sake of their debut.

One particularly heated argument erupted during a late-night rehearsal, when Lucas criticized (name)'s dance moves as sloppy and uncoordinated. "You move like a clumsy giraffe," he taunted, earning a scowl from the taller.

"Maybe I'd dance better if I didn't have to carry your dead weight on stage," he snapped back, his patience wearing thin. he stormed out of the room, both of them fuming.

they couldn't go on like this. no matter how good they perform on stage, if the dynamic behind the scenes was going to be this flaming, their stardom was destined to be short-lived.

But just as it seemed like their partnership was doomed to failure, a moment of unexpected vulnerability changed everything. after a late-night practice session, (name) accidentally let slip a personal insecurity that had been weighing heavily on his mind, causing lucas to pause in surprise from drinking water.

"I never asked to be taller than everyone else, you know?" he admitted, his usually confident facade crumbling in the face of his insecurity. "It's not easy standing out in a crowd for all the wrong reasons."

Lucas, who had always viewed (name) as an annoying trainee to be defeated, suddenly saw him in a different light. He realized that beneath the bravado and insults, there was a person with their own struggles and insecurities, just like himself.

In that moment of shared vulnerability, the walls between them crumbled, and a newfound understanding and respect blossomed. They put aside their petty disagreements and focused on their shared goal of creating something truly special together.

they had seen each other work their asses off for this and they decided to let the world know just that.

as the day of their debut finally arrived, Lucas and (name) took to the stage with a newfound sense of unity and purpose. the practice sessions leading up to the fateful day had a new emotion lingering in the dance room: admiration. which slowly seemed to blossom into newfound feelings. those of fondness and liking.

Their performance was nothing short of spectacular. their voices blended harmoniously, their dance moves synchronized effortlessly, and their stage presence was nothing short of electrifying. there was no denying the undeniable chemistry between them when they performed together. after their debut song, the suggestive moves in the duo's dance cover of the song 'troublemaker' had the audience gasping for air. they had prepared this one as a surprise to make a bold statement on their first day at work. they weren't to be taken lightly.

Cheers and applause resounded at the music bank set as Lucas and (name) took their final bow. And as they stood with foreheads resting against each other's, breathless and full of adrenaline, there was no trace of animosity between them, only a shared sense of accomplishment and by the tension, a budding romance.

Lucas turned to (name), a smirk on his face. "hey doe eyes, you ready for our next performance?" he asked, gesturing to the empty hall while taking off their microphones.

"bring in on, shortie" (name) winked in response, as he walked towards an empty room without looking back, gesturing for lucas to follow him using his index finger.

"let's see how much of a 'trouble maker' you can actually be, shall we?"

[solomons-finest-rum]

Hello to one of my favourite Alfie fic writers! Since you're taking requests, I'd like to make one as well.

I don't know how it works but how about a scenario/imagine where Tommy gets in some kind of trouble (as always) and Alfie suggests that his lovely gangster wife could help and goes to introduce them but as it turns out it's none other than the Shelby's sister/cousin/relative/friend/or maybe even an ex? (Your call one this one) who they thought was dead or something?

Idk if it's even worth your time and effort but I just wanted to make a request ;) No pressure, of course!

Love you and your writing a lot!

“As The Crow Flies” (Alfie Solomons x fem!Reader) — PART 1

SUMMARY — By all accounts Anna Gray died in Australia and had no business standing in Alfie’s living room, nor calling the man “darling” for that matter. But there you were, identical to the picture they took when they shipped you off to the colonies.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Thank you to @zablife for being the most gracious beta!💗💗💗💗💗 and thank you Anon for this request, because actually it inspired a full-blown multi-chapter idea! So this is set around... Season 5 I suppose? But I'm going to ignore everything in it and Season 6 too. Let's pretend none of it happened and just focus on the fun part! That is driving Tommy insane and making Alfie say outrageous lines.

WORD COUNT — 2,286

Masterlist

In retrospect, Tommy Shelby felt he should have known better. He should have fucking known that the moment, the moment, he came to Margate to sort the bloody situation out, exactly two things would happen.

One, he would have to sit and listen with a straight face to Alfie’s inspired monologue, the subject of which had swerved from elephants to bank robbery in about two and a half minutes, and then managed to touch upon just about everything else under the sun.

Tommy remained quite sure that the sense of Alfie’s rambling had been long lost to history and the point of it all was just to talk him to death, really. Put him out of his misery with nonsense alone.

“Now then, Tommy, as I said, right, I ain’t the vindictive type, I really ain’t, so I am gonna help ya out just this once, right, outta the goodness of my own heart.”

Tommy managed not to roll his eyes. Barely.

“‘Cause I am a changed man these days, Tommy, an’ it can be that the old man that I am, I’m goin’ soft on ya, right, an’ so tradition dictates, mate, to ask for more than ten thousand for my troubles.”

Tommy raised a brow.

“But as things currently stand with the medical bills, on the account of bein’ shot in the face by some cunt, right… Fifteen would sound proper fair, mate.”

Thank fuck for small mercies, Tommy thought, then lit another cigarette and promptly got up to leave. Alfie apparently managed to settle both sides of the conversation, negotiations included, and their American problem could very well sort itself out all on his own—thus proving to Tommy once more that the only thing he could really count on in this world had always been lunatics.

“Right, the fuck you’re doin’ now, sit down!”

Tommy frowned and remained standing, cigarette in the corner of his mouth and sheer outrage emanating from his entire person. The question of “what in fuck’s name do you want now, you crazy bastard?” overtook his face.

“Right, I need to make a bloody phone call,” Alfie said then, which explained exactly nothing.

Yes, that was the second thing Tommy had been so sure would happen. Alfie would first go on a tangent, then formulate a plan that involved three separate layers of deception, a bribe, and a crate of dynamite (probably).

Then Tommy would get caught in the middle as bloody always and Polly would have his head for going along with Alfie’s plan in the first place.

What he didn’t expect was for Alfie to change his tone of voice completely as soon as the person picked up on the other end:

“Yeah, darlin’, it’s me. Come to the house, alright? Right, ‘cause I need ya here for somethin’. No, not like the— Bloody hell, woman, just don’t fuckin’ argue with me for once, alright?”

Sometimes a rare occasion would present itself for Tommy Shelby to become fucking speechless. Truth be told, he remained rather surprised that two such occasions had also involved Alfie Solomons, undoubtedly purely for the Devil’s bloody amusement.

“Who was that then, Alfie?”

“None of ya fuckin’ business.”

Tommy had a sneaky feeling there wasn’t a clever enough question in existence that could have pushed Alfie to say anything more. He looked smug as hell for having pulled that stunt off so Tommy was willing to see it through.

For old time’s sake.

The sun was setting and they had another drink, then Tommy let Alfie go on another tangent about… Tea import. Perhaps. Who knew, he wasn’t really listening.

On drink three Tommy was alerted by a car pulling up to the house, followed by a door slam and a rhythmic clacking of high heels on the porch. Tommy looked to Alfie, but the man remained infuriatingly calm.

Just as Tommy was about to reach for his gun, the door to Alfie’s study opened unceremoniously and a scent of expensive perfume wafted across the room. Tommy turned around and tried his best to keep up the indifferent facade, but failed miserably. Nothing could have prepared him for you walking through that door, with a giant bodyguard no less, following you like a second shadow.

“Alright there, Billy?” Alfie greeted the bodyguard casually and the man grunted in response. “Right then, might ya wait in the car for us, mate? This whole bloody business will take a minute.”

Tommy then watched as Alfie approached you and planted an affectionate kiss to your cheek, at which point Tommy stood up abruptly.

For a moment he just stood there and stared; a state he didn’t find himself in too often these days. 

“Darling, are we having guests?” you asked Alfie in a tone so familiar to Tommy; so like your mother. Pleasant, on the verge of sarcastic. 

By God, either that Camden bastard was a magician or you had a twin sister that Polly never mentioned. Because it wasn’t possible… It couldn’t be you. Not according to the file he stole from the parish. By all accounts Anna Gray died in Australia and had no business standing in Alfie’s living room, nor calling the man “darling” for that matter. But there you were, identical to the picture they took when they shipped you off to the colonies. 

“Right then, Tommy, might I present my lovely wife,” Alfie said. “Sweetie, this here is Tommy Shelby, right, all the way from the ungodly place they call Birmingham—”

“Tommy Shelby?” you interrupted and looked at Tommy with a smile so like Polly’s that Tommy nearly lost his composure again. “My, my… And there you went and promised you were done with the life, Alfie.”

“Right, an’ how could that—”

“Anna,” Tommy interrupted what he was sure was a budding monologue from Alfie. 

“Yes?” you asked. “You know my name?”

“I… Know your mother.”

“Know?” There it was again. That curious smirk of yours that could really mean anything. Tommy found it harder and harder to keep up the charade.

“But that’s not possible, Mr. Shelby.”

“What’s not possible?”

Your tone remained polite, but your dark eyes said it all. The expression of quiet resolve Tommy thought only one person capable of delivering with such resentment.

“I’m an orphan, Mr. Shelby.”

Tommy said nothing to that, because what in hell could he even say? All of a sudden the American issue faded into nothingness, replaced solely by the phantom standing before him.

“So you did not lie, I see,” you turned to your husband with a quizzical expression, seeing as Tommy went quiet again. “He really is as strange as the papers make him. No matter, though, Mr. Shelby, I hope you like chicken? My husband insists I’m a terrible cook, but you must stay for dinner.”

Tommy nodded mechanically and put out his cigarette just to busy his hands with something. When he looked at Alfie, though, Tommy noticed how the man’s mouth twitched, clearly indicating the scheme was playing exactly how he wanted it to. Mad bastard, Tommy thought. There was no saying if he was being played or tricked or helped. Probably all at once, but solely for Alfie’s benefit of course.

“Right, curious as I am, luv, what delectable fuckin’ option you maimed and butchered for dinner, Tommy isn’t stayin’—” Alfie then stopped himself when two sets of identical Shelby scowls got directed his way.

Tommy did stay for dinner and made sure to clean his plate, too. He didn’t mind the food at all; it reminded him of Polly’s simple cooking back in the day when she would take care of Tommy and his siblings in Small Heath.

The more he listened to you talk and bicker with Alfie, the more of your mother he saw in you and the angrier he got at seeing you here of all places, as Alfie’s wife, unable to speak to you in plain terms. Tommy wasn’t exactly sure which made him angrier, though—the fact that you were Alfie’s wife or the fact that the sly bastard had kept you from your true family for who knows how many years. How did he even find you?

All the questions he had were still swirling around in Tommy’s head and he wasn’t particularly paying attention to anything else, besides staring daggers at Alfie. He was hoping there would be a moment to talk to you alone, but of course your husband would never allow it. He watched Tommy like a hawk the entire evening, sometimes with just a hint of a smile to suggest he was still three steps ahead of everyone else.

“See you never got accustomed to that fancy cookin’ they’re offerin’ ya at the mansion these days, Tommy,” Alfie said, undoubtedly truly enjoying the charade. “Tommy’s an MP, darlin’, right about two steps from gettin’ a knighthood I reckon. Yeah, a real prince he is.”

The way Alfie said the word was so clearly a jab at Tommy’s ancestry that he didn’t even flinch. What he was curious about was your reaction, but you remained perfectly pleasant: 

“Don’t tease, love, we haven’t had guests in ages and I’m not letting you drive this one away.”

When the maid took away the plates, you lit a cigarette in a swift overdone gesture and Tommy was once more taken aback with your resemblance to Polly. 

“Well, I’ll leave ya both to it,” you announced as you got up. “It was a pleasure, Mr. Shelby.” You extended your hand and Tommy shook it. “I know you tried your best with the chicken and I appreciate it,” you paused and tilted your head to the side as if sizing Tommy up.

“I rarely trust your husband’s judgement,” he replied.

The way you smiled reminded Tommy of a cat that got into the pantry. He decided not to think about it too much.

“I see. Goodnight then, Mr. Shelby.”

As soon as Tommy heard you got upstairs, he turned to Alfie who, unsurprisingly, already had a gun pointed at him. It was a casual way of it that was the most infuriating—Alfie’s hand was more so resting on the table and the gun just happened to be there, pointing at Tommy. 

“Now then, Tommy, let’s be reasonable about this, mate.”

Tommy clenched his jaw and remained silent, but his murderous glare said it all.

“There are four people at the house, right, includin’ you, me, my wife, then the maid… Then there’s Billy outside, right, who’s gonna be rightly worried once he doesn’t get my dismissal for the night. So I want ya to be real cold an’ calculated about it, Tommy, just like I know ya can be, ‘cause if ya decide to off me for no reason now…”

“No reason.”

“Right.”

“You’re old enough to be her father.”

“Yeah an’ fortunately I’m not, ‘cause that’d be right fuckin’ awkward at the temple, mate.”

“Temple?”

“What’d ya think, Tommy, that I smacked her over the head and dragged her into my cave?”

“Somethin’ like that.”

“Right, we’ll have to show ya the pictures then, she looked stunnin’.” Alfie leaned back in his chair. “Tell ya what, mate, why don’t ya come by for tea one day?”

“Tea.”

“Yeah. We have it, Tommy, we’re not animals.”

Tommy said nothing to that. He was still reviewing his options, but as he wasn’t a fan of spontaneous action, the patient approach seemed appropriate. The offer, though, just like everything else about the situation, was fucking infuriating.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“Fuck you, Alfie.”

That finally made Alfie smile and for some reason he lowered the gun.

“Right, so seein’ as we’re family, Tommy, and what a happy coincidence this is, I must say, I feel like we should talk fuckin’ proper. None of that shit.” Alfie then gestured between them as if he hadn’t been responsible for “that shit” in the first place.

“We’ve been talking, Alfie,” Tommy deadpanned.

“Yeah, but then there’s still somethin’ ya haven’t told me about your American troubles, isn’t there, mate, so I’m expectin’ you’ll be more honest with me in the future. Now that I’ve brought the right arguments to the table…”

The hint of a threat in that statement almost made Tommy wish he still had his razor cap around.

“She’s Polly’s only daughter, Alfie.”

“Right, I’m aware of that.”

Tommy nodded, feigning understanding between them. As always, handling Alfie very much resembled handling a live grenade without a pin.

“This can’t be the way to end things.”

“Who’s endin’ things, Tommy?”

“I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, an’ I’m going to let this one slide, Tommy, ‘cause you just got a lot to process, mate, so I’m prepared to be understandin’.”

Tommy shook his head and reached into his jacket pocket, at which Alfie uncocked the gun. Tommy slowly pulled out his cigarette box, but Alfie never even flinched. It was gruesomely reassuring to still have been right, even in the position that Tommy currently found himself in. 

Alfie Solomons would always remain Alfie Solomons, even with the whole song and a dance about getting old and senile. He was still the same mad bastard Tommy came to know all those years ago, and as things stood, Tommy found himself wondering if this time he shouldn’t try poison instead of a bullet.

“Tommy,” Alfie sighed, “with three good eyes workin’ between us, mate, I really would greatly mind if I somehow acquired a fuckin’ tumour in my lungs, too.”

Tommy said nothing and he knew Alfie hated it.

“Which means put that shit out, mate, and listen to what I’m about to say, ‘cause I got a feeling you’ll really wanna hear it.”