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theclairvoyage · 5 months

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Sour Lemonade (One-shot)

AO3 | Main Masterlist

Your nephew's little league baseball games take up many of your summer evenings, and it's not the dust or the concession stand treats that keep you coming back - it's one of the coaches, Joel Miller.

Pairing: Little league coach!Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: 18+, MDNI! alternate universe, adult language, alcohol consumption, smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), fluff, flirting, angst, mentions of physical violence, light choking, baseball talk, mentions of child death, mentions of infidelity

WC: 12k

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Dust flies into your face, obscuring your view of the baseball diamond. “Fuck,” you spit, the sudden inconvenience enraging you. Aggressively, you wipe your lips with the back of your forearm, noticing now how sticky, slimy, and itchy your skin is from all the sweat and dirt. And the pirate bugs are relentless, tiny daggers pricking your pores at every moment. Each swat of your exposed skin produces a tiny black smear, only to be replaced by another miniscule, predatory black dot.

“Does anyone have some goddamn bug spray?” Anger invites itself to the baseball game now, alarming some of the innocent parents watching their 8-year-old sons try to play America’s favorite pastime. Your sister, who dragged you to this hell hole, tugs on your sleeve as she hops up from the bleachers.

“Jesus, can’t go anywhere without you cussing up a storm… no wonder your nephew knows all these colorful words,” she scolds you, your name rolling off her tongue with a sharp bite as she stomps over to the bathrooms. The rage inside you cools a bit, returning to its home in the corner of your stomach. She swings her tote from under her arm to her front, digging in the bottomless pit for some bug spray. She pulls out a pink spray bottle with feminine letters, and you already know it doesn’t have DEET.

“Sorry, Mer—for the cussing. But also, do you have anything containing any carcinogens? Need ultra strength right now,” you say, trying to ease the tension. She snorts and rolls her eyes, exchanging the pink bottle for a familiar green one. OFF! is plastered in big font on the front.

“Ahhhh,” you sigh, spraying the familiar harsh scent on your skin and clothes. She laughs, taking a big step away from the cloud of haze surrounding you. The mist cools your skin, though you know it’ll stick once it’s dried—you don’t care at this point. It’s the third inning, and you can’t handle another hour and a half of being a trained insect assassin.

“Thanks. Also, how d’ya know Noah isn’t learning cuss words at school? Or on YouTube,” you remind her, pointing a DEET-covered finger in her face. She ponders it for a moment, jaw ticking back and forth.

“Well, either way—these parents are going to blacklist you if you don’t put a filter on it.” You wave her off, grimacing.

“Meredith, let me put it bluntly—I don’t give a fuck,” you say, accentuating the last word and sticking your neck out. She laughs loudly and smacks your shoulder.

“Y’know, Noah loves that you come to his games. And I want to keep you around, so… I guess I can tolerate it,” Meredith says with a half-smirk, snatching the green bottle from your sticky fingers. “Let’s go back before the damn game is over.”

“Hey! Language!” you point at her, eyes widening in mock shock. A throaty laugh leaves her lips. The wind picks up again, sending a twister of dirt and dust your way, so hard it stings your legs. You curse yourself for not wearing pants.

Back at the bleachers, you find that your language is the least concern of these parents. It’s the bottom of the fourth inning, and the score is 2-9. Noah’s team looks somber as they take the field. Moms are perched on their bleacher chairs with crossed legs, quietly fanning their faces with paper programs with pursed lips. Dads spit their sunflower seeds and tobacco into the grass aggressively with arms crossed, shaking their heads with each dropped ball and fumbled groundout. A sharp contrast is the cacophony of shrill screams and boisterous laughter from children running around the nearby empty fields, with not a care in the world. They’re just happy to be here.

“Sheesh… tough night,” Meredith says solemnly in your ear. You nod, sucking your lips into your mouth. The pitcher on Noah’s team walks another batter, and a man, presumably one of the coaches, emerges from the dugout and steps onto the field, holding his palm up to the umpire.

“Time!” The umpire calls, waving both hands in the air a few times. You study the man as he approaches the pitcher, surprised at what you see.

He’s taller than average, but not too tall. His trim body is lined with lean muscle, though he’s somewhat soft in the middle. Broad shoulders stretch his gray t-shirt. Graying brunette curls peek under his hat, kissing the top of his strong, tanned neck. Strong legs stride quietly, though confidently, toward the poor boy, who is clearly distraught. The man kneels and puts a hand on the pitcher’s shoulder as he speaks to him. The boy nods, cracking a small smile and sniffling as the man jostles him softly. He told a joke, perhaps—whatever it took to get the kid to smile. You find yourself smiling, too, watching the pair interact. The man has a calming presence that seems to have trickled into the crowd. The tension in the air is less frigid, palpable. He high-fives the boy and stands, returning to the dugout. His gaze sweeps the field, giving his players a thumbs up, before turning to the crowd and locking eyes with you.

Shit. His face takes your breath away, complete with a curved nose, high cheekbones, plush lips crowned with a full mustache, and an angled jawline dotted with brown and gray hairs. His smoldering chocolate eyes, though, are what hypnotize you the most. He’s still staring at you, likely analyzing the structure of your features like you are to him. You notice his stride falters momentarily before catching himself, but his eyes never stray from yours as he returns to the dugout. Heat radiates from your cheeks. Your heart thuds in your chest, pulse racing at this gorgeous stranger checking you out. Meredith nudges you with her elbow.

“I’ve never seen anybody get eye-fucked like that,” she whispers, and you can’t prevent the loud guffaw that escapes from your mouth. You clap a hand over your mouth quickly and whip your head toward her.

“Who is that?!” you squeal, clutching her wrist.

“That’s Joel Miller, one of the coaches,” she whispers, craning her neck to look at him in the dugout. “His nephew is on the team. Brother is that guy sitting behind home plate here,” she points, alerting you to an attractive Latino man with shiny black curls and a similar strong nose. Damn. He’s fine as hell, too. Before you turn to look at him again, Meredith grips your leg.

“He’s staring over here, don’t look,” she whispers. You can’t help but smile and feel giddy, like a sixth grader developing their first crush.

The game ends on a higher note, with Noah’s team lessening the gap and ending 6-10. As parents trickle from the stands to wait for their boys out by the dugout, you try to catch a glimpse of Joel, who is picking up stray baseball bats and gloves, handing them to their rightful owners. Noah ambles over to Meredith and you, grin plastered on his dirt-stained face. He wraps his sweaty arms and hands around your midsection.

“Hey, buddy. You did great,” you beam at him. He sighs heavily and looks up at you, big blue eyes laced with disappointment.

“We didn’t win, though,” he laments, wiping his dirty face off on your shirt.

“S’not all about winning, my dude. Gotta have fun and try to get better every day,” you comfort him, patting the back of his sweaty jersey.

“That’s some good life advice right there,” a deep, sexy, Southern-accented voice interrupts. You snap your head up and see Joel, who’s already looking at you. God, he’s even more attractive up close, and he smells good, like pine and musk. His eyes travel your face before dipping down to your lips, quickly reverting to your eyeline.

“Joel! This is my sister,” Meredith introduces you, pulling Noah from your grasp. Joel holds out a hand. You grab it and shake, relishing the warmth and size of his hand. The two of you stare at each other for a moment before he lets go.

“Nice to meet ya. I think some of the parents are gettin’ drinks later, after puttin’ the Rugrats to bed,” he says, flashing a jaw-dropping smile at you. Meredith chimes in, saving you once again from your own awkward silence.

“That sounds great! We’ll definitely stop by, right?” she asks you, nudging you. You tear your eyes from Joel’s and nod.

“Yes—though I need a shower. I stink,” you admit, scrunching your nose. A deep chuckle emits from Joel, shoulders shaking with laughter. Your heart skips a beat.

“Y’can’t be that bad—at least y’look good,” he says with a grin, pearly whites blinding you. Your heart falters completely at his compliment and you’re frozen, like a mosquito inside a solid block of amber. Meredith, for the umpteenth time today, saves you from looking like an absolute fool.

“Joel, wait ‘til you see her all cleaned up! We gotta go get this kiddo showered and ready for his sleepover, see you in a bit!” she says, clutching your wrist and leading you and Noah toward the parking lot. Peering over your shoulder, you catch Joel’s eyes drifting up and down your figure. His smile fades, expression morphing from excitement, to astonishment, to desire. Oh, fuck.

Two hours later, Meredith and you are arm in arm, walking up to the bar the parents and coaches had chosen for the rendezvous. The summer heat has loosened its grip on the city, with gentle summer gusts and a Starburst-colored sunset replacing it. Your dirty and sweat-ridden clothes are replaced with some jean shorts and a fresh muscle tee, and you remembered to put lotion on your legs for once.

Meredith opens the creaky wooden entrance door, and you spot the baseball group in a corner of the bar. Eight parents and all coaches are here, each sporting a mug of some light and probably domestic beer. All greet you with either a wave or a loud greeting—they must’ve gotten started drinking early. You spot Joel sitting next to his brother, Tommy—both are staring at you as you approach the group.

“Since you’re late, you have to buy shots,” says one of the moms, lifting her empty beer glass.

“Fine, Katy—but it’s gonna be tequila!” Meredith quips, inciting a grimace from Katy and cheers from all the men at the table. “Let’s go up to the bar,” Meredith murmurs in your ear, setting your purses down on two empty chairs the group saved for you. You try not to look at Joel but feel his magnetizing gaze on you, and you make eye contact with him. His eyes are molten dark chocolate, sweeping over your face with a glimmer of want. You crack a small smile and his eyes latch onto your lips immediately. Before your knees buckle, you break eye contact and follow Meredith to the bar.

“So, you gonna fuck him, or what?” She teases once you’re both out of earshot of the group. You land a playful slap on her arm and drop your jaw.

“Mer! I don’t even have his number! Or know how old he is, or if he’s an ex-con, or a child molester, or a serial strangler,” you ramble, pulling a laugh from her.

“He’s not any of those things, but he’s in his fifties, I know that. Doesn’t look like it, though,” she says, eyebrows arching. He’s got some years on you, for sure, but you’ve had an experience or two with an older man—though this one terrifies you. His eyes alone could convince you to do almost anything.

The bartender pours up double-digit tequila shots, garnished with salted rims and limes, and plops them on a serving tray. Meredith hoists it up and you walk back to the table, making sure to put some extra swing in your hips in case Joel’s watching. You can tell from your peripheral that he is, in fact, staring at you. Something fizzes in your chest—warm, wanting.

“Cheers to not getting run-ruled today!” Tommy cheers as everyone clinks their shot glasses together. You down yours quickly, anticipating the spicy aftertaste. And boy, it burns like hell as it glazes down your throat. You suck on the lime and try not to shiver. Whoops and cheers fill the empty bar as everyone finishes their shots.

After a few beers and shots later, you’re feeling loose and giddy. Your end of the table is talking about the godforsaken umpire from tonight’s game, somewhat split from the other half of the table, which is discussing the MLB playoffs. Feeling a familiar pull, you turn and see Joel smiling at you. Once you make eye contact, he winks, which sends you reeling. He’s about to get up from his seat when one of the moms waltzes her way over to him, curling her polished claws around his shoulder.

You wouldn’t be surprised if he preferred her over you—she’s petite, with long blonde hair, tan skin, blue eyes, and perky fake boobs. She looks great, you admit, and she’s closer to his age. Sadness looms in your belly and your smile fades as his attention diverts to her. Oh well, you think. Good thing it didn’t go too far. Resigned, you join the conversation and try to focus on anything but Joel.

The night carries on, and you find yourself unbothered by Joel. Meredith completely let loose, singing along to the music echoing throughout the bar. Everyone at your end of the table is telling jokes, clinking glasses, and enjoying each other’s presence. It’s a fun night, you admit to yourself. You made every effort to not pay attention to the other end of the table but felt Joel’s eyes on you constantly.

What you didn’t realize was how much he wanted you to be the one pressed up against him, with his arm curled around your waist or his rough fingers stroking the smooth skin of your thigh. He needed to get away from this kid’s mom—she was newly divorced and obviously ready for a rebound. Yeah, she was attractive, but nothing about her excited him—if anything, he was irritated by her blatant advancements. The final straw was when she crept her hand up his denim-clad thigh and squeezed close to the apex.

“The hell are you doin’?” he says with a laugh, incredulous. She licks her glossy lips and leans in toward his ear.

“Oh, I think you know, big boy,” she murmurs in her sexiest voice. Joel is turned off. Not wanting to be rude, he lightly grips her wrist and pulls her hand back. You, unfortunately, look over right as he grabs her hand.

“Not interested, dear,” he murmurs back, watching the frustration grow on her face.

“Fine, Miller—there’s plenty more who want it,” she boasts. She snatches her manicured hand away and moves onto your side of the table, picking another innocent victim.

Annoyed, you stand and walk up to the bar, back facing the group. Guess her little routine worked on Joel—he really ate it up, even touched her arm. You chide yourself for letting this unnerve you—you don’t even know the guy, and for all you do know, he might be a sleazeball.

“Need a break from the loudmouths?” the bartender asks, half smiling. You nod, rolling your eyes playfully.

“Too much testosterone over there,” you retort, “I’ll take a Sprite.” She nods and punches a button on the soda gun, filling up a tall glass. Staring at the bubbles fizzing over the ice cubes, you feel a breeze on your side. It’s Joel, finally separated from his bimbo of the night.

“Hey, darlin’, can I get you a drink?” he asks, smooth, sugary voice tickling your eardrums. He sounds sexy as fuck. You hold his gaze but don’t smile, creating an icy wall between the two of you.

“Is your girlfriend okay with that?” you sneer, turning to take a sip of your Sprite. His shoulders sag just slightly, but you see it from the corner of your eye.

“She ain’t my girl, promise. She’s tryna find a rebound,” he murmurs apologetically. You shrug.

“Seems like she was getting close to getting one.” Ouch. It hits low and painful in his belly, though he understands.

“Listen, I know what it looked like. Promise ya, it ain’t nothing. She ain’t my type,” he says, eyes sweeping your face. Guilt pangs you, and you turn to look at him. Fuck. His eyes are solemn, repentant—he’s saying sorry, and he doesn’t even need to. You sigh deeply, feeling that the alcohol is forcing you to be honest with him.

“Joel, look—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t ha—,” you start, but he interrupts you, putting a calloused palm up and shaking his head.

“No need t’apologize, sweetheart. I get it. She was all over me,” he says, end of his sentence filled with a playful tone. You giggle quietly.

“Oh yeah, she was two seconds away from sinking her teeth into you,” you joke, chuckles exchanging between the two of you. Relief fills you, warm and cleansing. He stares at you for a moment before speaking again.

“So, that drink…” he says, a lopsided grin plastered on his rugged face. God, he’s handsome. You can’t hold off much longer.

“I ‘spose,” you tease, “Guess you owe me one, anyway.” His half-grin turns whole, smile sending a zip of desire down your spine. He leans close to your ear, sweeping your hair over your shoulder. The touch of his warm skin on yours and the proximity of him almost makes you jump.

“I’ll make it up t’ya, swear on it,” he says, voice an octave lower and Southern accent dripping with something you’re not quite ready to identify. You clamp your thighs together instinctively, another shiver rippling through you like that of the tequila shot. Joel waves the bartender over and orders your drink of choice and whiskey neat.

“So… you live with Meredith?” Joel inquires, watching you as he sips the amber liquid. You shake your head, twirling the straw around your drink.

“Nope, but I might as well with how much I’m over there, helping with Noah and whatnot.” He nods.

“I had a daughter once. Y’know what they say… it takes a village,” he says, tone laced with melancholy. Once?

“I hate to ask, but… what happened to her?” you ask carefully, hesitant to look at him.

“She passed away when she was little. Car accident. S’alright, though—it was a long time ago,” he says, smiling at you wistfully. You put a hand on his bare forearm, and he almost melts into a puddle.

“I’m sorry, Joel. That’s so awful. I can’t imagine experiencing something like that. Noah’s my nephew, but I wouldn’t be able to go on if something happened to him,” you add, hoping to soothe his pain.

“Enough about me, darlin’, I wanna know more about you,” he says, covering your hand with his. His touch is electric on your skin.

“Nothing exciting, trust me,” you say with a shrug. He scoffs.

“I’d be shocked to hear that you’re single,” he says, winking at you again. You shove him playfully.

“Prepare to be shocked,” you quip. He shakes his head and looks up at one of the TVs.

“S’a damn shame,” he laments. The alcohol sends courage racing through your veins.

“For whom?” you tease, mirroring his wink. His smile fades just slightly as he takes you in, desire washing over him. When he speaks again, his voice is even deeper than before.

“Not for me, that’s for sure.” Your stomach drops at his admission, though your face doesn’t show it.

“Yeah? Why’s that, Miller?” He takes another sip of his whiskey, eyes locked on yours.

“You kiddin’? Look at you,” he says, whistling lowly, eyes traversing your frame. If you weren’t blushing before, you are now. You wave him off and sip your own drink.

“Oh, stop. I bet you get the best of the best coming up to you,” you say, playing it cool. He takes another sip, swallowing with a hmm-mm.

“Darlin’, the best of the best is sittin’ next to me, and I reckon I got some groveling t’do if I wanna see her again,” he admits. He takes his baseball cap off, revealing thick, gorgeous curls, hairline swept with gray locks. He runs a hand through them before sliding the cap back on. Admiring his profile, you watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. Your gaze travels down to his neck, which might just be your favorite part of him at the moment—thick, tan, jugular vein bulging. You can almost see his pulse pounding at his carotid. Fuck, he makes your pulse pound. Sucking in a deep, calming breath, you avert your gaze to your near-empty drink, swishing the ice cubes around nervously. Joel nudges your arm with his elbow. You look at him, trying your hardest to maintain a straight face, but seeing his smile makes you grin.

“What?” you ask, noticing his eyes dipping down to your lips.

“Was just thinkin’,” he says, finishing the last of his whiskey as he eyes you inquisitively.

“About?” you press, tilting your ear toward him and raising your brows. He laughs at your facial expression and leans in, lips brushing your hair and nearly grazing your ear.

“’Bout what it would be like t’kiss you,” he hums, voice dripping with lust. Your eyes widen briefly, shock quickly morphing into nervousness, then anticipation as your stomach twists.

“Think I need another drink before then,” you say, slowly turning to face him. He’s close, close enough that you feel his breath on your face. He’s half-smiling again, brown eyes spanning your face.

“Nervous?” he taunts lowly. You look up at the TV and nod slowly.

“Darlin’, y’got nothin’ to be nervous about. I ain’t gonna make ya do anything y’ain’t comfortable with,” he says, face still close to your ear. You face him again, staring intently into his eyes.

“Oh, it’s not that. I’m afraid… you’ll be hooked,” you test him, hoping your bravado overshadows your nerves. His nostrils flare just slightly before he clears his throat.

“Reckon I need another drink, too—I might not survive,” he says, catching you off guard. A loud laugh escapes your lips. Joel is delighted at the sound and wonders how you’d sound doing other things, like underneath him or as his tongue unravels you. Suppressing an erection, he waves the bartender over and orders both of you another round.

“Wanna get some air?” he questions you, tipping his head toward the patio area. You nod, chewing on your straw nervously. The idea of being alone with him makes you squirm. You stand and he guides you outside, firm hand on your lower back. His fingertips burn into your back.

“Lemme just tell Mer I’m stepping outside,” you say. He nods. “Meet ya out there?” he offers, and you clink the rim of your glass to his in agreement. You watch him saunter over to the patio doors, salivating at the way his jeans hug his hips and ass. Meredith isn’t worried by your absence at all, still laughing and talking loudly with the group. She’s drunk.

“Mer, I’m stepping out back if you need me,” you say into her ear. She turns to you, holding your chin.

“Y’gonna kiss him, finally? He’s been tryna do it for the last hour!” she spits into your ear. Your lips quirk into a smile.

“Maybe, dunno. We’ll find out shortly,” you reply nonchalantly, shrugging as you turn to leave the table. She pinches your ass as you walk away.

Anticipation bubbles in your chest as you get closer to the patio. With a deep breath, you push the doors open and see Joel leaning up against the railing, hip cocked to one side. The patio is dotted with dim string lights and overlooks a small pond with a fountain, moonlight glimmering on the surface. The trickling of the water is soothing, a nice contrast to the loud music and voices inside the bar. He turns his body toward you, arm leaned against the railing as he watches you.

“Thought maybe I scared ya off,” he teases. You stand next to him, arm brushing his as he turns to face the pond again.

“Not in the slightest. Your girl back there, though? Not going within 20 feet of her,” you tantalize him, and he rolls his eyes as he chuckles.

“She ain’t even a blip on my radar, darlin’,” he says, voice shifting from playful to sensual. You feel his hot gaze on your face. Slowly, he dips his head closer to yours. You turn and lock eyes with him. You want him, though your expression is almost hesitant—his is pliant, asking permission. You look down at his plush lips and lean in while closing your eyes.

When your lips finally meet, a sensation roils through you like you’ve never experienced. You feel like a fishing boat in the North Sea, tossed around, dizzy, and soaked by the icy waves as they threaten to pull you under. You’re completely at the mercy of his lips, his touch. The kiss is slow, yet fiery—unlocking passion in both of you that has either been dormant or never existed. At some point, Joel turned to face you and pulled you flush to him, thick arms wrapped around your torso, squeezing you like he can’t afford to let go. You reach for his hair and knock off his baseball cap, and he laughs against your mouth.

It doesn’t take long for your tongues to tangle and the kiss to reach a new level of hot and heavy. He’s gripping your ass; you’re shoving your hands up his shirt. He’s breaking the kiss to nip at your neck and jawline; you’re moaning softly. He’s groaning into your skin at the sounds you make, telling you how good you are; your nails are carving shapes into the skin of his back.

You pull back, panting, fingers still latched onto his curls. Concerned eyes stare into yours, worried he crossed a line. You shake your head and laugh incredulously, glancing over at the moonlit pond. It’s surreal, the way you’re feeling now—none of your dreams have ever been so enchanting as this moment. Joel strokes your cheek softly, needing to know your thoughts.

“Everything alright?” he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheekbone.

“Yes! Oh god, everything’s—amazing, I just didn’t know if—,” you stammer, trying to force the thousand thoughts swirling in your mind into a coherent sentence.

“D’you wanna get outta here, darlin’? I understand f’you say no, but good lord, I want you,” he breathes, searching your eyes for a semblance of hesitation or uncertainty. He doesn’t find either. Your pupils dilate ever so slightly, tongue darting out to lick your lips.

“Fuck yes,” you breathe, sending him over the edge. He smirks and releases you momentarily to pick up his fallen ball cap, tossing the sweaty fabric over his curls before grabbing your hand to guide you back inside. It’s hasty, the way he closes his tab and signs his receipt, tossing the pen back behind the bar with a chuckle.

“Let me tell Mer I’m leaving,” you tell him. He nods.

“I’ll wait here for ya, don’t need ya walkin’ in the dark parkin’ lot alone this time of night.”

“A gentleman, too? Hopefully that doesn’t carry over to the bedroom,” you coo, putting on your sultriest voice. His eyes are black as sin, sweeping over your body slowly.

“Oh, I am—ladies first,” he quips, enjoying the view as you turn to walk toward the table. Meredith is perched on the lap of one of the dads, whispering in his ear.

“Mer—I’m leaving. I’ll call you in the morning, yeah?” You shout over the loud chatter of the group and the music. She winks at you and gives you a languid thumbs up. Still drunk. You narrow your eyes at poor lad she’s sitting on, giving him a silent warning. He throws his palms up in the air in surrender. Meredith rolls her eyes at you before turning back to him.

Joel takes your hand as you walk out of the bar, giving the back a quick kiss. The excitement and thrill of leaving with him has you giddy, springy. Your steps are bouncier than before, confidence buzzing inside you. This fine man wants you, has wanted only you since he laid eyes on you, and is taking you home. Your past one-night stands have never been so exhilarating.

Joel leads you to a big silver truck, opening the passenger door for you and helping you into the plush leather seat. He swats your ass as you hop in, laughing at the yelp that escapes you. Trotting over to the driver’s side, he hops in and wastes no time getting out of there.

“Your place or mine?” He asks as the truck cruises onto a main road.

“Mine,” you reply, starting to feel nervous. Maybe a familiar location will calm your nerves a bit.

“Lead the way, darlin’.” You guide him to your apartment, which is maybe 10 minutes from the bar. He grabs your hand as you both speedwalk into the building, eager to rip your clothes off and finish what you started at the bar.

As soon as you’re inside your apartment, Joel rips his cap off and hoists you up, your back pressed against the door. Your legs encircle his waist and pull, crashing your hips together. His lips devour you hungrily, teeth nibbling your lower lip and hands frantically roaming over you. “Where?” he murmurs in your mouth, and you point to your agape bedroom door. You didn’t make your bed, but you couldn’t give less of a fuck right now, and neither does he. He carries you inside the dark room and lies both of you on the bed, your legs still wrapped around his midsection.

“Need t’see you,” he pants, and you point to the lamp on your bedside table. He twists the knob, filling the room with dim, amber lighting. His mouth latches back onto yours before moving down to your soft neck and collarbone.

“Off,” he says, tugging at the collar of your muscle shirt. You lift your arms up and let him tear the fabric from you, remembering that you didn’t wear a bra once you hear him curse.

“Fuck,” he groans, “look at you.” He squeezes your breasts, taking a nipple into his warm mouth. You inhale sharply, running fingers through his tousled curls as he sucks on one and moves to the other. He kisses down your stomach until he meets denim, sitting up and grasping the waistband of your shorts. He peers at you from poignant, hooded eyes.

“Can I take these off?” he asks softly, surprising you. He’s gentle, obedient, almost submissive to you, though you don’t realize what a treasure you are in his eyes. He wants to savor this, make sure it’s perfect for you. Your chest is heaving, nerves so alight that you almost forget to respond.

“Please,” you affirm, and he doesn’t need to be told twice.

You’re already soaked—you felt it once you sat down in his truck, the damp fabric of your panties pushed up into you. He unbuttons and slides your shorts off, leaving your green thong on and licking his lips as he notices the wet spot.

“Jesus… this for me?” he says, returning his needy mouth to your hot skin. You’re squirming in his grip, breathless.

“Yes, fuck,” you huff, whimpers leaving your mouth as he kisses his way down your left hip and bites your inner thigh. You moan, the painful prick of his incisors heightening your pleasure.

“You like that, baby?” he asks, peeking up at you from down below. Bashfulness washes over you at the sight of him between your legs, worshipping your body. You nod feverishly, lower lip between your teeth. He growls lowly and kisses down your leg, stopping at your instep and watching your response before retracing his path. He stops over your clothed mound and kisses featherlight, pulling a groan from you. You feel his smile curve against your core, but he doesn’t oblige you—he kisses down your other leg. You tug on his hair, needing his mouth on your most sensitive spot.

“Needy, ain’t she?” he teases you, breathing hot air on your clothed, throbbing pussy. Your back arches and you sigh heavily at the sensation.

“I’ma give you just what y’need, darlin’, just hold on for me,” he soothes you, teeth pulling the waistband of your thong back slowly. He needs help from his hands, though, so he loops his fingers in the waistband and rids them from you. His gaze is boring holes in you, looking at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen.

“Tongue-tied?” you tease him, watching his eyes roam over your naked body.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he growls. He shifts downward, lower half on the floor before hooking his arms under your thighs and pulling you toward him. He stares at you as he blows softly on your clit. The chill of the air on your wet core drives you mad, your hips circling involuntarily under his grip. At what seems like a glacial pace, he leans in until his lips touch your clit in a featherlight kiss. Though light, the contact feels like the floor has dropped from underneath you, making you dizzy. His teasing has you so riled up; it won’t take much for you to reach the zenith. His tongue slips out and slowly, almost agonizingly, licks from your entrance to your clit.

“Shit, Joel,” you gasp. He smirks against your core, impressed with himself for learning your cues early on. He continues licking you languidly, sensually, changing his approach based on your moans, curses, and sighs, each twitch of your hips and death grip of his hair and arms, relishing all of you.

“Like hearing y’say my name,” he purrs, “Y’taste so good.” White-hot pleasure keeps shooting up your spine, like fireworks on July fourth. Your stomach feels tight, like you might snap any second.

“I’m close,” you whimper, hips rolling on his face. He hums in approval into your pussy. You reach down and grip his hands before he pulls one away to prod at your entrance. He curves two broad fingers into you, groaning at how warm and tight you are. A strangled cry escapes your throat at the stretch, part of you worried about how his cock will fit. He pumps his fingers quickly, and you snap, your orgasm taking over every fiber of your being. He talks you through it, praising you and trying not to come himself at the sight of you trembling, arched in pleasure.

After a beat, he removes his fingers and slots himself between your legs, head dipping down to kiss you, giving you a taste of yourself on his wiry mustache and smooth lips.

“Taste good, don’t you?” he croons into your mouth, pulling a low moan from your throat. Gripping the fabric of his shirt as you kiss him, you realize he’s still fully clothed. You tug the hem of his shirt up and he sits on his heels to pull it off, revealing a strong, toned torso with a softness that makes you melt. He notices you admiring him.

“S’not as good as it used t’be,” he chuckles, smiling at you as he tosses his shirt to some corner of the room.

“Shut up. You’re perfect,” you breathe, hands roaming his chest and stomach before landing in his waistband, pulling him back to you. He resists, only to unbutton his denim and slide it off his legs, leaving only his boxers. You reach out and grab his hard length through the thin fabric, gasping at the girth of him. Your fingers don’t even reach all the way around. His head tips back, breathy sigh escaping his lungs at your gentle but firm touch.

“Off,” you parrot his command from earlier, fingers tugging at the elastic waistband of his boxers. Eyes locked on yours, he stands and pulls them off his figure, cock springing as it releases. A mischievous grin creeps over his features after seeing your reaction to his manhood.

Fuck. He’s big, probably bigger than most you’ve had. The length is up there, but the girth is what worries you—he’s so thick.

“Don’t worry, darlin’, I’ll take care of you,” he soothes you, settling between your legs. Confusion contorts his face, like he forgot something—until frustration sets in.

“I don’t have protection, d’you have anything?” he asks, stroking a slow path from your inner thigh to your hip, making you squirm.

“No, but I’m good—I’m on birth control, and it’s been forever since I’ve had sex with anyone, so I’m clean,” you reply. You can’t even remember the last time you slept with anyone—months, perhaps.

“Me, too,” he adds, “minus the birth control.” His witty response makes you giggle. You sit up and lean forward to kiss him, stopping just before your lips touch.

“I want you inside me. Now,” you whisper, gaze flicking over his face. His eyes flash obsidian before he crashes his lips against yours and lies you both down. He rubs the head of his cock against your soaked folds, the sensation setting your body on fire. Aroused and impatient, you tip him back until your positions are switched, Joel’s head almost hanging off the edge of the bed. He chuckles at you but beams at your confidence. Perched on his lap, you lean back slightly and grind your hips, guiding your lips over his rock-hard length.

“Need a picture of this,” he says, bewildered at the gorgeous woman grinding on his lap, naked and needy for him. His rough palms caress your hips, stomach, breasts, before landing at your shoulders. He pulls you down for a kiss, the new angle pressing your slit flush against his cock, and you shudder.

“Fuck me,” he rumbles, mouth agape, messy salt and pepper curls dipping down to his brow. You sit up, bracing one palm on his chest and using the other to guide him to your dripping entrance. Making sure to watch him, you slowly sink down on him, the stretch splitting you open almost immediately. Your mouth drops and eyebrows arch, the pain and pleasure slowing your movements.

Joel’s face mirrors yours, your tight, soaked cunt squeezing him deliciously. He grits his teeth and grips your ass so hard you’ll have bruises, urging you down further onto him. You slowly take inch by inch until bottoming out, the sudden press of his tip against your cervix making you yelp.

“Okay, baby?” he asks. Your eyes are squeezed shut, breath coming out in heavy pants and hands clawing at his chest as you adjust to the size and thickness of him. A strand of your hair has fallen in your face, moving with each puff of your breath.

“Yes, j-just need a sec,” you whimper. Finally, your inner muscles acclimate to the intrusion of his cock, and you start to move. Each roll of your hips pulls a filthy moan from Joel, whose calloused hands are guiding you up and down his length. You’re whimpering with each thrust, the tip of his cock sending painfully pleasurable shocks up your spine as it slams into the deepest parts of you.

“Just beautiful,” he groans as he watches you bounce on him. It’s a good thing you’re on top, because he would’ve come by now had he been spearing himself into you. “Not gonna last long. Where d’you want me?” he spits.

“Inside me,” you mewl, and before he can react, you take the opportunity to press your chest against his, sweaty foreheads stuck together as you clap your ass against him as hard as you can. Your second orgasm washes over you suddenly, causing you to tuck your head in the crook of his neck as you cry out. Joel takes over, thrusting up into you a few times before grunting your name as he spills into you. Both of your pants and whimpers fill the room as you come down from your high. You’re still on top of him, arms wrapped around his neck, pussy wrapped around his cock still as he softens. He rolls you over and pins your arms above your head before dipping his lips down to meet yours in a messy postcoital kiss. You moan into the kiss, and his cock twitches at the sound inside you—he’s not quite hard, but enough to still stretch you out.

“Wanna do it like this next time,” you pant, cupping his cheek. He turns to kiss your palm and moves down to your wrist before latching his lips onto the slope of your shoulder.

“I’d like that, baby,” he purrs into your sweaty skin, “And I like that there’s gonna be a next time.” He rests against you for a moment before slipping out of you with a grunt and standing to find your bathroom. He returns after a minute with a towel, sitting next to you on the bed and wiping his spend from you.

A pang of disappointment washes over you suddenly, not wanting him to leave. One-night stands really aren’t your thing—you don’t want him to get the idea that this is a frequent habit of yours.

You speak his name softly, quietly. He slides back into bed, propping himself on one elbow and giving you his full attention. He tucks some stray hair behind your ear, your eyes closing at the tenderness of his touch.

“Hmm?” he hums, thumb tracing your eyebrow, forehead, temple, whatever part of your face is closest. You open your eyes and see warm, affectionate amber staring back at you. His eyes are so beautiful, so full of emotion, you find yourself unable to talk for a second. He quirks one eyebrow at you, lips sliding into his cheek as he waits for your response.

“D’you wanna stay?” you ask, hesitant. You really don’t know him, or if this is something he likes to do often, or if it was a spur of the moment decision made during your moment of passion at the bar. He leans down and kisses your forehead before pressing a slow kiss to your lips. Pulling back ever so slightly, his breath fans on your face and gaze flicks between each of your eyes before he opens his mouth to reply.

“Yes, I’d love to,” he says. You can’t help the grin that pulls at your cheeks. He twists the lamp, darkness spilling into the room, and tucks you into his chest before pulling the covers over both of you.

“Goodnight, darlin’,” he whispers into your hair, and before you can reply, you’re sound asleep.

Morning rolls around, and you find yourself pressed against Joel’s warm back, arms wrapped around his torso and moving up and down with his expanding ribcage. He’s still sleeping, or you think—he woke up not too long ago with you curled into his chest, torn between needing to use the bathroom, and not wanting to let go of you. You looked so serene, so beautiful as the sunrise painted your features. When he came back and tucked himself under the covers, you immediately latched yourself onto him, arms wound tightly around his belly.

Now, you find yourself in the same predicament, needing to use the bathroom but not wanting to disturb him. You slowly unfurl yourself from his broad back, stand from the bed and tiptoe to the bathroom connected to your room.

Joel had opened his eyes once he felt you rise from the bed and watched your naked figure travel across the room, the sight stirring his already half-hard cock. Fuck, you were gorgeous, and he wanted desperately to see your body trembling with pleasure again, the memory of your face twisted in euphoria sewn into his brain. When he heard the bathroom door open, he snapped his eyes shut again, wanting you to think he was asleep.

You, on the other hand, didn’t want to wake him and had a primal urge for some fresh coffee. You search the room for your robe, startling when two warm hands grasp your waist and pull you onto the bed. Joel props himself up against your headboard, legs spread as he pulls you into the open space between them. His strong arms loop around your stomach, pulling you tight until your back is flush with his chest. He tucks his face into your neck, pressing gentle kisses behind and beneath your ear, down the column of your neck.

“Where d’you think you’re goin’?” he croons, Southern voice raspy with sleep, igniting something inside you. You moan as his lips and teeth mark spots on the map of your skin.

“Coffee, I swear,” you groan, covering his arms with yours and squirming as his mouth continues adorning you.

“Mm. Not done with you yet,” he murmurs, unwrapping one hand from your stomach to palm your breasts. You arch into him, head tipping back on his shoulder. He growls.

“Feel good, sweetheart?” he presses, rolling one nipple between rough fingertips before moving to the other. You gasp sharply and nod against his shoulder, hips gyrating and ass rubbing against his hard length. He inhales deeply, the scent of your hair invading his space and heightening his arousal for you.

His palm dips lower, spanning your soft stomach before reaching your inner thigh, goosebumps erupting in its path. Lightly, he scratches at your skin there, loving how pliant your body is underneath his touch. He needs to see your face.

“Look at me,” he orders softly, and you turn your head to see him. God, he looks fucking good. His hair is fucked up from slumber, eyes wanton and full of sleepy desire. There are hints of intrigue and mischief sketched on his face.

Then, he kisses you, teeth tugging on your lower lip. It’s hot, the way he needs you in this moment, the way his tongue reaches for yours, the way his grip tightens around you. His hand dips further south, fingers feeling firsthand how much you want him. He moans at it, the wetness trickling from you.

“Joel,” you whine, his calculated touches teasing you. He swirls his fingers around your bud, almost excruciatingly slow.

“You want me this much?” he breathes into your mouth. Your hips are still rolling, ass feeling how much he wants you.

“Yes—please. Need you,” you moan softly, eyes opening to see him. He looks down, watching and moaning at how your slick coats his fingers. He prods his middle finger at your entrance, inserting it lazily into your tight heat with a groan. You gasp at the soreness of his cock from last night and at the stretch—his finger is thick, close to the size of two of your digits.

“Baby—need to stretch you out. So tight.” He pulls his middle finger out and adds his ring finger to the mix. He curls them once they’re fully sheathed inside you, pads stroking your soft walls. He pumps them in and out of you slowly, yet with enough pressure to send you reeling. The pleasure builds inside you, knotting tightly in your belly. You moan as he continues to unravel you, hips circling around his hand, his teeth sinking into your shoulder.

“Come for me, sweet girl,” he coaxes you, mouth moving to graze your earlobe. He holds it there, between his teeth, pulling it as you come apart on his fingers.

Your orgasm rolls through you slowly, vision spotting as the knot untethers inside your stomach. Joel fucks you through it and praises you, spurring you on more. It’s new for you, someone talking you through your orgasm, and something you didn’t realize you needed.

“Good girl, just like that—did so good for me, baby,” he soothes you, removing his soaked fingers from you. He takes the middle one into your mouth, brushing your tongue, and you suck lightly, moaning at the taste of yourself. His cock jumps.

“Need to taste you again,” he hums, placing his ring finger in his mouth. You watch him relish the taste of you, eyebrows arching and a deep groan escaping his throat.

“Can I fuck you now, baby?” he asks, syllables like chords of a sweet cello. You nod, tugging the back of his head down for a passionate kiss. He maneuvers both of you until you’re underneath him and he’s hovering over the cradle of your hips.

“Gonna go slow,” he says, palms cradling your face.

“Want you to fuck me however you like, Joel,” you whisper, searching his eyes. Brown irises flecked with gold, desire-filled pupils threatening to swallow them. He sits up, tugging your thighs toward him and tucks your knees at his sides. He grips himself and breaks eye contact to watch where your bodies are about to join. He looks up at you as he slips the head of his cock inside your warm entrance, jaw dropping as your walls swallow him.

Carefully, he feeds you inch by inch, eyes never leaving yours until he’s at the hilt. He commits to memory the morphing of your facial expressions as he fills you up—wide eyes, mouth dropping slowly, head tilting back and eyes snapping shut once he reaches the end of you. Only then does he look down to see where he has vanished inside you, moaning at the way your pussy stretches around him as he pulls out slowly.

“You feel so good,” you whine, fingernails lightly scratching his chest and stomach. His head tips back as he sets a pace, your muscles squeezing him and coating him in warm slick.

“Best I ever had—fuck,” he curses, fingertips bruising your hipbones. He pulls you up so your hips are propped up on his lap, leaving space between your back and the bed. You arch, head lolled back and hanging off the edge of the bed.

“Beautiful,” he moans, reaching a palm down to lightly squeeze the column of your throat as he continues pounding into you.

Blood rushes to your head, heightening the pleasure of each thrust. Your body is tingling, almost levitating.

With no notice, your second orgasm zips through you like a gasoline fire, flames scorching your neurons. Joel follows suit, lifting you into his lap, arms wrapped around your torso as he cries into your chest. You tug his curls, tipping his head back in a kiss as he finishes emptying inside you.

You pull back and run your fingers through his hair, stopping to cradle his face in your hands. He beams at you.

“Can I make coffee now?” you tease him, pressing a light kiss to his nose. He laughs warmly, squeezing you tightly and picking you up as he stands from the bed.

“I think that’s acceptable,” he replies, squeezing your ass before letting you stand on your own legs.

“So… when can I see you again?” Joel asks as he puts his shoes on. You’d typed your number into his phone per his request just moments ago and sent yourself a text with his name.

“Are you saying… you want to do this again?” you say, winking at him and dropping your mouth open in mock surprise. He rolls his eyes, standing to pull you into a hug.

“Yes, but not just sex. Unless, uh, that ain’t your thing,” he says, hesitation flashing over his features. You shake your head.

“What we just did isn’t usually my thing. I’d love a date. And more sex if that’s okay.” He snorts.

“It’s more than okay. You showing up to the baseball game tomorrow evening?” he asks, absentmindedly stroking the skin in front of your ear. You nod.

“Got a thing for the hot coach. Need to make sure I have my best jean shorts on.” He snorts again, raising an eyebrow at the prospect of seeing you with some short shorts on.

“How about I take you out later this week, then?” You swipe your eyes around the top of the room, lips sliding into your cheek as you try and remember your schedule.

“Friday? I have a busy week at work. Late nights, probably,” you offer. He nods with a big grin.

“It’s a date.”

The next day arrived in blistering fashion. Not a single cloud graced the blue skies, nor the tiniest gust of summer wind. By 5:00 PM, it was still in the lower 90s. You packed a large cooler full of water bottles, Gatorade, various other liquids stashed in your fridge, and snacks for Noah’s baseball game. Excited to see Joel again, you made sure to wear your best jean shorts and threw on a cropped tank top.

You pull up to the baseball field, searching the parked cars for Meredith’s SUV and Joel’s silver truck. You find both, parked at opposite ends of the lot. Your stomach drops slightly when you see his truck. He’s here, obviously—he is one of the coaches. Meredith waits in her SUV for you, hopping out when she sees you strolling up, big cooler in tow.

“Any booze in that?” she winks at you. You nod.

“I had some stray shooters in the fridge. All yours.”

“I believe you have something to tell me, yeah?” she says as both of you walk up to the entrance of the baseball complex. You look over to the field and see Noah’s team warming up in their familiar navy and red uniforms.

Joel is in the grass, hitting pop flies at the outfielders. His broad back is turned to you, the familiar shape sending a pang of anticipation up your spine. The flexing and jumping of his muscles and tendons is getting you hot. Meredith nudges you.

“Hey, I’m talkin’ to you here! Stop reminiscing,” she scolds you.

“I kinda have to if you want my account of the story, yeah?” you add, mocking her tone playfully. She guffaws.

“Spill. The man was obsessing over you since he saw you at the game.”

“Let’s just say he’s very good at what he does. And he’s a gentleman. He’s taking me out later this week,” you gush, cheeks burning at your recollection of yesterday’s events.

“Knew it. Could tell by the way he walks and looks at you. Mans is whipped. My guy on the other hand? Couldn’t even get it up. Passed out before anything meaningful could happen,” she seethes, eyes rolling.

“All old men are not created equal, Mer,” you joke, jostling her with your elbow.

As you two find home in the bleachers, you see Miss Blonde Ambition eyeing you from the concession stand. She looks pissed off, Juvéderm-filled lips contorted in a scowl and lifeless eyes swiping up and down your frame as she sloshes her Stanley cup around aggressively. Meredith notices, too.

“Guess she’s not too happy her usual antics didn’t work,” she gripes. You try not to give too much attention to the woman.

“What’s her name? I don’t even think Joel knows it,” you ask, noticing her return to the bleachers from your peripheral.

“Cassie. Divorced. Her kid is one of Noah’s closest friends on the team, unfortunately. I think he spends most nights with his dad.”

“Can’t imagine why.” Meredith chuckles at your jab.

A cloud of strong, overly floral perfume invades your nostrils, and you turn to see Cassie, manicured hands planted on her hips and face pinched in irritation.

“Hey, Cass,” Meredith says coolly, not looking in her direction.

“Is this your sister?” Cassie spits. Her voice is shrill, accent almost Valley girl. It would make a lot of sense if she was from Southern California. Meredith, having none of this hostility, whips her head at Cassie.

“It is. You got a problem? Because this is not the time nor the place,” she says, eyes narrowing briefly at Cassie.

“Just wanted her to know that she shouldn’t get too excited about her little escapade with Joel. He does that with every young thing that sits on these bleachers,” she boils, face and neck turning red. Ouch. Joel never seemed the type, but then again, you don’t know him. She could be telling the truth.

“Except you, yeah?” Meredith shoots back, unfazed by Cassie’s low blow. You, on the other hand, don’t miss how your stomach sinks and throat dries up at her words. Cassie’s mouth drops open. She cocks her hips to one side and lifts a finger at both of you.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’ve been there, done that. Nothing to ride home about. Enjoy my sloppy seconds,” she hisses. Meredith stands up, hackles raised and blocking you from Cassie’s view.

“S’at why you were all pissed off he didn’t want you last night? ‘Cause it’s ‘nothing to ride home about’?” Meredith fires, neck rolling. Anger boils in your belly, though you find it best if you don’t speak—Meredith has always been the verbal fighter, you the physical one. It’s not a road you plan on traveling any time soon.

Other parents in the bleachers are observing the confrontation, along with some players in the dugout, little claws gripping the chain link fence and wide eyes glued to the scene. You’re glad you have sunglasses on. You notice Joel turn his attention to you, shoulders drooping at what he sees. Embarrassed, you look down at your feet as Cassie continues her tirade.

“Tell your slutty little sister he’ll find a new spectator to fuck very soon—and I think it’s best if our sons don’t hang out anymore!” she screeches. It’s silent at the ball field—both teams have stopped their warmups to tune into the drama. A pin could drop here, and everyone would hear it.

Meredith hops off the bleachers and gets close to Cassie’s face. She points in her face.

“Slutty? That’s rich, coming from the lady who cheated on her husband with half the single dads at the last State Tournament!” Cassie’s mouth drops open in shock, taking a few steps back from Meredith. Some gasps ring out in the bleachers. Tommy walks over, stepping between the two sparring women and putting his hands up.

“That’s enough!” he booms. Meredith, nostrils flared and fists clenched, points a finger at him.

“Tom, you know damn well what she’s trying to do here. I’m not about to let it happen. She chose to do this in front of everyone to embarrass my sister. Ain’t my problem what comes out.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes, shaking his head.

“I get it, Mer. Just didn’t need the kids hearing this stuff.”

Nausea squeezes your stomach and takes hold of your throat. You stand and grab your purse. Meredith turns to you, worried.

“Y’alright?” You shake your head.

“Need t’go sit in my car for a bit,” you reply, voice shaky. You turn and walk to your car, paying no attention to wandering eyes. Joel sees you ambling to the parking lot and sets his bat down, raking a hand through his stubble as he walks toward the dugout and out to the bleachers. He’d heard the entire conversation and knew you were probably hurting from Cassie’s remarks.

“I’ll talk to her, Joel,” Meredith says, stepping in between him and you, though you’re far away by now. He shakes his head.

“She needs to hear it from me. None of that shit is true,” he huffs, frown lines etched into his forehead. He jogs frantically to your car.

Hunched over your steering wheel, a knock at your window interrupts you. You jump and look up to see Joel. He looks worried. Shoulders sagging, you unlock the doors and tilt your head as you wait for him to get in. The door opens and he reaches for your hand. You snap it back involuntarily.

“I just wanna be alone right now, Joel,” you lament.

“Just let me explain, alright? I heard everythin’ she said to you,” he says, voice calm. You refuse to look at him, knowing that if you do, you won’t be able to stand firm.

“Look at me, darlin’,” he pleads, voice quiet. You sigh in defeat and turn to look at him. His amber eyes are filled with sadness and frustration.

“None of that shit she said is true. I’ve never slept with anyone that comes to these games, save for you and my ex-wife. Ain’t she ain’t been to a game in many years. Swear,” he says, voice tight, speech rushed.

You look back and forth between his eyes. Why would he lie to you? What could he possibly gain from fucking you—after all, he is a coach, and it might make him look bad to the parents and players. If anything, it was a risk on his part.

“I believe you, Joel. It just hurt,” you finally speak. He reaches for you again, hesitant from your previous rejection. You give him your hand and he kisses the back of it, eyes locked on your face.

“M’sorry. I knew she wasn’t gonna let it go easy. Promise ya, ya got nothin’ to worry about. I—I really like you,” he says, pained. You lean over the center console and kiss him, almost feeling his relief pouring into you.

“I really like you too… old man,” you tease. He roars in laughter.

“Y’gonna pay for that one, darlin’,” he says, half-grinning at you. He kisses you again before pulling back and checking his watch.

“Game’s gonna start soon, I gotta get goin’. I’ll see you later, alright?” You nod, smiling weakly at him. He gives you a quick peck before exiting the passenger side and trotting back to the field.

Noah’s team played an excellent game, which lifted the moods of all the parents and coaches. Cassie’s ex-husband, Byron, showed up and convinced her to leave, which was a relief for everyone. He apologized to you and Meredith for her behavior. Apparently, he already knew about her cheating escapade before they divorced.

Meredith, feeling badly for you, decided to splurge on concession stand snacks and got you a giant Bavarian pretzel and cotton candy, and supplied hot dogs to all the parents. You had fun, too—apprehension quickly turned to relief as parents took turns sympathizing with you and making you feel welcome. This was not Cassie’s first run-in with another woman in the bleachers, you found out—she made this sort of thing a habit.

Noah hit his first home run of the season, eliciting cheers and whoops from the stands. Joel, who had been working with him on his hitting mechanics, gave him a big hug after he returned to the dugout. The team finished 10-3, a great turnaround from yesterday’s loss.

The parents were eager to return to the bar and close it down again. You opted not to, feeling tired and needing a hot bath from the sticky summer night. You and Meredith chatted with Byron for a long time in the parking lot as families filtered out, discussing how to best keep Cassie away from the boys. They had a strong friendship, and neither Meredith nor Byron wanted anything to affect it. Byron shared that Cassie didn’t even have custody of their son—her cheating and drinking during their marriage put a bad taste in Byron’s mouth, and apparently the judge’s—he was awarded full custody.

After saying goodbyes, you were eager to get home, almost forgetting the most important goodbye. You scan the parking lot and see a familiar handsome shape leaning against the bed of his silver truck, eyeing you as you saunter over to him.

“Good game, Coach Miller,” you say slyly, sticking your hand out for him to shake. He grasps it, glancing down with one eyebrow cocked, before pulling you into his chest.

“Lotta motivation coming from the stands tonight,” he croons, wrapping his hands around your waist.

“For you or the boys?” He chuckles.

“Take your pick.” You shake your head and smile, watching the sun drop the last of its shape underneath the horizon. The sky is a beautiful cotton candy color, not unlike the treat Meredith bought for you earlier tonight. You two stand there for a moment, the only sounds being the quiet buzzing of the cicadas and crunch of cars leaving the gravel parking lot.

“Headin’ to the bar?” Joel asks you, holding your chin with his forefinger and thumb. You shake your head.

“Need a hot bath and some relaxation. You?” He smirks, thinking of your naked body undressing and stepping into a bubbly tub.

“Nah. Need the same.” Your lips twitch as you study his face, painted with a little mischief and a little fatigue.

“Want to join me?” you offer, watching a slow grin creep on his face.

“Hmm, need t’think about that one,” he says, eyes flicking over your face.

“What’s there to think about? You, me, naked in a tub. What could possibly go wrong?” You’re flirting now.

“That’s exactly what I’m thinkin’ ‘bout, darlin’, not whether I wanna go,” he says, pulling a goofy laugh from you.

“Meet you over there, then,” you say, turning to leave. He holds onto one of your fingers, preventing you from walking to your car.

“Y’want somethin’ to eat first?” he says, rubbing the skin of your finger.

“Sure. Something on the way?”

“I’m thinkin’ McDonalds. Text me what you want, and I’ll bring it over.”

“It’s a date.”

Not too long thereafter, you and Joel are sitting in your bathtub, backs at opposite ends. He’s tracing shapes on the skin of your knee, asking you every question that pops into his head.

“Shoe size?”

“Eleven. I have big ass feet,” you say, sticking a foot out of the water. He chuckles.

“D’ya want kids someday?”

“Nope. Noah is good enough for me. Never really wanted to be a mom. Would you have another?” He shakes his head.

“I’m too old to be a new father again. S’a lotta work. I had a good run with Sarah,” he says quietly, hand tiptoeing further up your leg.

He stares into your eyes, slicking his wet curls back from his forehead with his free hand.

“Why are you single?” His gaze bores into your face. You avoid it, focusing on mussing up some bubbles floating by your knee. You shrug.

“Haven’t had time, or the energy,” you finally say after a beat. “Haven’t found anyone worth giving either of those things to,” you add, tilting your head and meeting his gaze. He half-smiles at you.

“Yeah, me neither. ‘Til now,” he says, deep voice echoing throughout your bathroom.

“Oh yeah? Cassie, right?” you tease, and he snorts.

“Y’got me there. Alright, last question,” he says, hand stopping at the seam of your thigh. You tighten your muscles a bit, nervous.

“Shoot, Coach,” you say, flicking a bubble at him.

“Can I touch you, baby?” your eyes widen briefly, aligned with the quickening of your pulse. You’ve been wet since he ran the bath water for you and undressed you, fingertips gently tracing your skin as he removed your damp clothing.

“Yes,” you breathe. His finger grazes your mound, the sharp stubble like sandpaper against his skin. He grips your knees and pulls you into his lap. You look down at him, mesmerized by his face and the way he stares at you.

“One more question,” he says, warm, pruny hands traversing your back, warm water trickling from his fingertips to your skin. You thread your fingers through his wet tendrils, leaning your lips close to his, but not touching.

“I’ll allow it,” you whisper.

“Can I kiss you?” You nod, closing the gap between your mouths with ease. His lips are gentle against yours, somewhat chapped from the dry heat of the summer day and salty from sweat. He tastes like salt and mint, which he must’ve snuck into his mouth after you ate earlier.

The kiss deepens, wet sounds of your mouths and the splashing of water now echoing in the bathroom. He’s rock hard against you, cock only a few inches from your needy hole. He pulls back and stares at you.

“Alright, promise this is the last question,” he coos, rubbing his nose against your jaw and then your neck as you tip your head back to give him access. The stubble of his mustache and chin scratch at your skin.

“Fine. Last one,” you agree.

“Can I fuck you?” You nod.

And he does.

Some months and many bubble baths later, Joel wormed his way into your heart. And your apartment. He’s got a baseball cap or two hanging on your mantle, throws his keys in the dish on the kitchen counter when he walks in.

You spend most nights together during the week, either at his cozy home or your apartment.

He calls you his, you call him yours.

He fills your car up with gas when you’re out and about and your fuel light comes on, holds your hand when you walk into a restaurant, tells you how beautiful you are at least a few times a week—and not just when his cock is sheathed inside you.

He kisses you each morning before he leaves for work. Shares his food with you, even when he’s starving. Washes you in the shower and puts lotion on the spots you can’t reach after he dries you off.

Introduces you to his family, and shows you pictures of his late daughter.

Goes to the movies with you and doesn’t complain that you talk during the. Entire. Movie.

Lets you wear his ratty, baggy tees around the house, and even asks you to keep them on sometimes when he makes love to you.

Makes fun of how you use a hammer and that you can’t name the 31 different types of wrenches but corrects you each time with a warm smile.

Plays catch with you before the boys show up for warmups and lets you set up the dugout, though he’ll redo it later on anyway.

And when he finally tells you how much he loves you, you’re not shocked. Warmth ebbs inside you, like it does most days with him. You knew it all along, even if he never had the courage to say it—it was evident with each kiss, touch, and thrust, each bag of food he brought for you, each time he held the door open for you, each time he guided you somewhere with his strong hand on the small of your back.

You oftentimes wonder if he is your soulmate, though you already know the answer.

He makes lemonade with each lemon you give him, without complaint or judgment. And that’s all you can ask for.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal smut

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alnair-jpg · 30 days

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Olympics AU Info dump!

First, I am blown away by how much love the series is getting, thank you all so much! I do really enjoy all the comments and reactions in the tags. Know that they all delight me and the only reason I don’t reply to everything is because there are so many! But I read them all 💕

General questions:

Can you draw the designs or concepts? Write fanfic in this AU?

Yes of course! I’d love for you to tag me if you post them so I can see

Do they all know each other?

At first, I would say no- with the exception of Nico and Will (they’re developing a whole backstory in my head that I cannot and will not stop.). But they all meet in the Olympic Village after the opening ceremonies and quickly become friends. They all try their best to attend each other’s events. (Someone please tell me how Percabeth becomes a thing. Please. 🙏 )

Why didn’t Percy win gold?

Percy was an Olympic medalist in swimming before moving to diving. After competing in several swimming events and feeling like they were all just small variations of the same thing, he wanted more of a challenge. He chose diving to stay rooted in to the water, but to add a new dimension to his bodily awareness and control.

What’s Annabeth and Luke’s rivalry?

They most definitely trained together, and it was Luke’s skill that motivated Annabeth to aim for the Olympics. But, she wanted to compete for her home country, Greece, which Luke thought was just a shortcut since there was a clearer path to an Olympic team in a smaller country. Annabeth is constantly trying to prove to him that she would have made it to the top of the sport either way.

Also, apologies to the IRL fencers out there for the inconsistency. I know fencing is a gendered sport, and Annabeth’s gear/style are inconsistent, please forgive the oversight ☺️🫶

Volleyball?

The whole Hunters of Artemis are a volleyball team (that apparently has no country 😅). Thalia ends up the captain. When Reyna moves on from tennis they welcome her with open arms.

Rejected sports

Will as a runner. Canonically, he’s super fast, but just having him as a sprinter didn’t fit with his personality.

Will as a pole vaulter. Specifically the guy that lost because he was ‘blessed a little too much’ and knocked down the bar. I will not explain further.

Will as a gymnast. He was this || close to being a gymnast essentially modeled after Steven Nedoroscik, I had the sketch and everything. (I shared it here!) But when an anyonomous ask clued me into the sick medical team uniforms it all fell into place from there. (Thank you no-longer-anon @helyeahmangocheese !)

Percy in anything equestrian related. I see him not having the patience for all the formality of it all, but he definitely crashes Hazel’s shows and chats up all the competition (the horses.)

Annabeth on a sailing team. Also, related to that, Reyna on a sailing team. It was a fun idea, especially for Reyna and her history with pirates but ultimately it was really hard to capture in a few illustrations.

Nico in several winter sports. For consistency mostly. He could fit for a lot of winter sports - ice skating and snowboarding are my personal favorites.

Leo as a shooter. He would most definitely build his own gear and make tweaks to his weapon. Which would get him immediately disqualified.

Jason in discus. Jason as a basketball player. Golf is just… fitting. 😂

Other Characters I’ve been thinking about

(that may have art in the works… and may not actually be athletes!)

Clarisse

Meg

Grover

Rachel

Lester / Apollo

Mr. D

Chiron

#olympics au #pjo #pjo hoo toa #percy jackson #rrverse #annabeth chase #jason grace #nico di angelo #will solace #reyna avila ramirez arellano #hazel lavesque #trials of apollo

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1000sunnygo · 1 month

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Law is a lovable character. But I think it blinds people to his flaws.

If Kidd's defeat is considered karma for his bad decisions and bad leadership, the same applies to Law. In fact, in some ways, Law did worse than Kidd. Heart pirates were the least prepared for the race to claim One Piece.

Without Law, Heart pirates had no name and no face. It wasn't because they worked as a team, I think Law intentionally kept them under a veil of protection. His appearance contrasted the rest of his crew mates. He pulled the world's attention towards solely himself, perhaps so his friends could mix within the crowd as civilians when he's gone.

Similar to Luffy, Law wasn't particularly looking for strong people. Now take Usopp as an example. He was a regular village boy with great sharpshooting skills. Roughly, he had the same starting point as Penguin and Shachi, but now he's leagues above them bounty and achievement-wise. Straw hats' journey had a clear aim to be the very best, each of them faced the worst adversaries and grew. Penguin and Sachi, on the other hand, spent over a decade with a Captain who they believed was aiming for a great treasure, when in reality, the Captain was stuck in his own world. He was fighting a lone battle with his friends completely left in the dark.

The lack of transparent communication weakened the crew's foundation. They were sheltered by an overprotective captain, it stunted their growth. In fact, it was simply dishonest of Law to lie about his ambition.

Law's detailed background wasn't decided back then, I think we can overlook this one. When Oda drew the panel above, I'm pretty sure Law in his mind was a much more grey character.

Kidd pirates knew what Kidd wanted. They joined their Captain's reckless adventures willingly and gleefully, Kidd never let them feel like a burden. Zoro and Killer could fight beside their captains on the rooftop, but Bepo - a polar bear mink with a great potential - wasn't ready to be there.

Law realized his goal to claim One Piece only a few days prior to leaving wano, and instead of taking time to grow as a team, he marched ahead to join the flow. I don't think he had many options, but it doesn't hurt to acknowledge his shortcomings.

At the end of day, Blackbeard can't be blamed for playing the game like a pirate. The fault was Law's. His crew was trained to tame the depth of the northern sea, not to find their place in a titan's battle royale.

#im sorry if the ramble is incoherent - I think I'm on a writer's block;;#had to ramble a bit bc I'm seeing a lot of comments comparing kidd and law #I think it's an unpopular opinion so feel free to share your thoughts #one piece meta #one piece #trafalgar law #eustass captain kidd #eustass kid #one piece Bepo #heart pirates #kid pirates #straw hat pirates #monkey d. luffy #usopp #roronoa zoro #one piece killer #mine #op meta

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writingoddess1125 · 11 months

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Hi, I love Morticia and Gomez Effect universe, and I have to say it. I'm the only one who thinks that if she ends up getting pregnant, it would be a girl. How would Mihawk be as a girl dad. Or, would they have twins or triplets?? They want an army, after all.😏😉

I like your thinking! MWHAHAHAHAHS

Morticia and Gomez Effect - pt. 3

Creating an Army

Mihawk x FemReader

Previous <<

Taking request on Ko-Fi

Check out my Go Fund Me

• It seemed all that really had to be done was speaking the wish for a child- In less then 2 months you found out you were pregnant. Much to the delight of Mihawk and yourself.

• Mihawk was very protective of you, essentially a helicopter. He needed to make sure you were safe and healthy, cooking all your meals, making sure Perona was as respectful as possible and didn't dare to cause a fuss while you were pregnant.

• Which she didn't in truth. Perona had been actually excited at the idea of a baby, flooding the place with more stuffed animals and 'cute' onsies.

• While for you, the pregnancy reminded you of the sea. At times calm and cool, while others it was like a raging storm in your body. You were fortunate that Mihawk was like a massive ship that could ride through the calms and battle thr storms, Rubbing your back when you puked- Whsipering sweet words when you cried and wiping away the discomfort that settled on your bones as the baby grew.

• It was a normal day, you were 6 months along in your pregnancy and Mihawk had gone out to train. Leaving you to the peace of your favorite fruit tea and some cakes.

• Delightful

• As you tucked into your new found treats you heard the door open and the sound of chattering. Knowing that it wasn't Mihawk you reached for the blade you kept tucked to your side under the large blanket you were under.

• Till you saw young familiar faces.

• The young Pirates, The Strawhats finally had return it seemed. With your necklace in tow as they looked like they had been through quite a journey and back. The scorch marks upon their clothes also being a amusing sight.

• Zoro stepped forward, bowing respectfully to his teacher. The other pirates also coming to greet you and hopefully stay in your good Graces.

• "Madam Dracule, We have your necklace" Zoro said with calm respect.

• He watched you stand and his eyes and the eyes of the young pirates all went to the same thing that had been obstructed by the thick blankets. Your rounded stomach-

• "Thank you Zoro, I do hope it was able to help in your journey" You say calmly as you take the necklace from him- Seeing how their faces went to that or horror and shock at the sight of your clearly pregnant stomach.

• The blonde one, with a weird eyebrow was the first to break "THATS NOT FAIR!? HE GETS A HOT WIFE AND GETS HER KNOCKED UP!?" He screamed in shock which surprised you before the rest of the crew decended on him like hounds to shut him up. Zoro still just standing there shocked till a random foot seemed to hit him and he joined the fight-

• Of course Mihawk hurt the commotion and quickly went to find you, coming to a sight he didn't know what to deal with first.

• There the strawhats were all fighting each other. The two women of the crew speaking to you calmly and touching your rounded stomach with your blessing as you held your ruby necklace and A passed out Reindeer at the foot of the fight..

• Deciding the fighting was the first thing be wad quick to knock out all the boys and toss them out his home. The reindeer he just stepped over since it was useless- he also make quick work to ask the women to leave which they did after giving polite goodbyes and congratulations.

• That leaving Mihawk to then scoop you up and bring you to bed. Having found that it was bedtime-

• Possessive as ever...

• In the coming months, the house was prepared for your birth. Mihawk having brought in a medical team for you- You assumed they were paid well but terrified.

• It had been after dinner, 3 weeks early when your water had broke. It seemed your child wanted to make their grand entrance early.

• It was like the world had stopped when you felt a rush of water down your legs when you went to stand to get some juice- Mihawk and you both just staring at the floor under you were the water was

• ....

• "..Hell" Mihawk muttered first, shooting back his wine in a effort to calm his nerves before rushing over to you and quickly escorting you to the labor room. Summoning the doctors quickly as well who got you prepped and ready.

• It was slow at first- But as the hours ticked by you the pain increased. Mihawk seated next to you as he tried to guild you through the waves of pain that wrecked your body.

• While labor is hard, He knows you are quite strong and will survive. You have to... You can't leave him

• "You alright darling?" He ask softly, holding your hand as you suffer with bringing in the next Dracule in the world.

• You give a weakened smile "It is painful- But it's a is not worth dying for" You say playfully, Earning a smile from Mihawk who kissed the back of your hand.

• The poor Doctors are uncomfortable by the whole situation. Especially with how calm you were during God Damn Labor!-

• It was near twilight of the next Morning did the labor finally come to an end. A shrill cry piercing the cold morning air as new life was brought in.

• "It's a Girl!" The Doctor said cheerfully as the crying child was liftwd and placed on your chest carefully and beginning to be cleaned with a towel.

• You and Mihawk seated next to each other staring wide eyed and in awe at the little girl screaming on your chest.

• "Looks like I had nothing to do with this at all" You mused, seeing how your little daughter looked so much like her father it was unfair. Even with her face pink from crying and her rounded face you could clearly see Mihawks genes had dominated yours.

• The thin layer of black hair onto her head also not helping. Mihawk chuckled as with a gentle hand he touched his daughters hair.

• "She is beautiful" He says softly, his own eyes getting misty as he stared at the little girl.

• Is actually quite pleased their first child is a girl and the only. It couldn't be better in his mind as he remembers his youth around the children that Gol D Roger would bring onto the ship. The boys were the most troubling.

• "She is.." You say softly, Watching as she settled down and yawned. Reaching out her little arms randomly, her little pudgy fingers wrapping around Mihawks finger. You practically saw the hearts in his eyes when she did this-

• In less then 4 minutes the baby girl has already stolen her father's heart and has him wrapped around his finger.

• "Dracule Marya" He whispered. Kissing your cheek as he smiled down at his daughter. You swore you saw tears in his eyes.

• Mihawk is a absolute girl Dad, Truthfully a good father overall. He enjoyed cleaning up after her, helping with feedings, choosing important items for her development.

• He does have one poor habit however-

• You stand there with your arms crossed under your bust as you raise and eyebrow at your husband. "Mihawk hand her over my love- She needs to learn to sleep in her crib" You explain.

• Marya was 4 months old and Mihawk had grown used to Marya sleeping in the bed between you two. So you had finally decided to put the smaller crib to use, pulling it into your twos shared bedroom so she could no longer sleep in the bed with you.

• But here she was-

• Your husband holding your half asleep daughter in his arm carefully while finishing some paperwork. This had been the 2nd time that night you had placed Marya in her crib to sleep on her own and everytime she cried in less then 10 minutes it would stop and you'd fine Mihawk holding her again in his study.

• "She was crying" He said calmly, setting down his pen to pat her back to comfort her.

• "That's the point Darling- She needs to learn to sleep in the crib" You stress, seeing Mihawk scowl at this and hold her closer to his chest.

• "She doesn't like it" He said stressing- This making you sighing at his dramatics.

• "Fine- But you'd have stay in the nursery with her since she can't sleep in our bed anymore" You said with a sigh.

• He slept in the nursery, on the floor next to the crib with his hand resting ontop of her- for 3 nights before you finally kicked him out and strong armed him to let her sleep in the crib in the bedroom.

• Besides Mihawks constant want to hold his daughter and carry her everywhere he was perfect. And in his eyes so was she-

• Mihawk sat there watching you, feeding little Marya and cooing softly at her as she watched the world around her, her eyes matched yours the only thing that you seemed to give to the little girl since she was such a clone of her Daddy.

• "Darling" Mihawk called to you waving you over, making you look up from your task at hand. Marya pulling from your breast full from her meal.

• Walking over Mihawk gently took Marya from you, beginning to burp her as you pulled your shirt back to place. He smiled as his yellow eyes gleamed

• "What is going through your head my Love?" You question. Knowing that look all to well. Mihawk shrugging slightly to keep from shifting Marya too much.

• "We should have another-"

Tag List- {Sorry I forgot to put it!}

@who-the-hockeysticks @vexladin @iraaiitz

@stellasloth @yuriwk

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #mihawk x reader #hawkeye mihawk #one piece mihawk #mihawk one piece #dracule mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader #op mihawk #mihawk x you

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 10 months

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Imagine the red hair pirates helping you with your depression

Unfortunately, it's that time of year when seasonal depression, and regular depression team up and beat my ass. So new content will come slower than usual, and I'm sorry about that, but appreciate your patience and understanding.

Shanks: *enters your room* are you gonna get up anytime soon.

You: *in a cocoon of blankets* I don't want to.

Shanks: *stares at you for a minute* are you okay?

You: no

Shanks: should I get Hongo?

You: there's nothing he can do for me.

Shanks: *thinks back to Roger's illness* ... What sort of illness do you have exactly?

You: depression,

Shanks: oh... Well staying in bed isn't going to help

You: I don't have the energy to get out of bed

Shanks: then let me do it for you, *scoops up your cocoon and carries you outside* sun light ought to do you a lotta good.

Hongo: what's going on?

Shank: they're depressed.

Hongo: oh, I have just the thing for that *goes into his office*

Benn: hmm, I suffered from depression as a young man.

You: back in the Stone Age?

Benn: *playfully rolls his eyes* yes, back in the Stone Age. My life kind of fell apart because I couldn't care for myself. I could not wash my clothes, or bath, or brush my teeth.

Shanks: that explains the state of their room then.

Benn: elaborate

Shanks: their laundry bin was overflowing, trash on the floor, and the whole room was dark and smelt bad.

Benn: ... Cleaning it would probably help them recover.

Shanks: would you go evaluate the room and see what needs to be done.

Benn: we're probably gonna have to clean it top to bottom, I will go get some volunteers.

Hongo: *comes back* no I need you to eat these supplements, and this mushroom.

Benn: how come they get to have some of your hallucinogens.

Hongo: multiple studies have shown they're very effective at treating depression long term and because they're mine, and I get to decide who to give them to.

Shanks: *pulls open your cocoon, and hands you a cup of water.*

While you are tripping

The crew: * cleans your room, does your laundry, and puts said laundry away*

Hongo: I think the main cause is seasonal depression, they were fine a month ago when the light was at its fullest.

Shanks: hmm, would installing another window in their room help?

Hongo: probably.

Shanks: okay, while the shipwright does that, (y/n) can stay in my room.

Benn: you just wanna fuck them.

Shanks: A few orgasms would probably do them some good. Plus I can help them better if they're close to me.

Hongo: he's right, but you need to make sure you're not taking advantage of them.

Lucky Roux: we also need to make sure they're eating, I noticed a while ago that they're only having one meal a day.

You: eating is inconvenient, and having a corporeal body is like being stuck with a pet you don't want.

Shanks: *pulls your head into his lap and strokes your hair and shushes you* sh sh sh, I know darling, I know.

Hongo: we should also make sure they exercise more, in fact we all should.

Benn: we can take up daily training practice.

Shanks: totally

You: I dun wanna

Benn: well I expect you to at least try it out for a week, if it doesn't help then you can quit.

You: really?

Benn: no

You: aww

Benn: we'll find a nice activity you like, or don't mind.

You: ugh fine

Shanks: thank you

You: ... You have pretty eyes, kinda like storm clouds

Shanks: we should get you high more often.

You: do we have any music snails?

Shanks: *pulls out his collection of Uta's music* Yes we do.

List of Up-and-coming works || Masterlist || Twitter

Support me on Kofi and Patreon

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #akagami no shanks #red haired shanks #red hair pirates #benn beckman #lucky roux #hongo #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #11/15/23 #no beta we die like men

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rhysdarbinizedarby · 1 year

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Our Flag Means Death season 2 shot a crucial scene in the Avatar 2 tank

A behind-the-scenes look at how Taika Waititi and Rhys Darby shot their big merman moment

[Warning: The below contains MAJOR spoilers for Our Flag Means Death, Season 2, Episodes 3]

Season 2 of David Jenkins’ pirate comedy-romance-drama Our Flag Means Death has finally premiered on Max, with an opening three-episode arc that’s guaranteed to get the series’ fandom buzzing. The third episode in particular ends with a sequence that feels like it was intentionally crafted to inspire the crowds of fan artists who have turned the series into an obsession. Polygon talked to the series’ VFX supervisor, David Van Dyke, about what went into shooting that sequence — and how James Cameron’s Avatar: The Way of Water helped out.

At the end of episode 3, Ed “Blackbeard” Teach (Taika Waititi) is in limbo after being assaulted and nearly killed by his crew. There, he meets his former captain Benjamin Hornigold (another of the series’ historical pirate characters, played by Mark Mitchinson), who tries to help him through his emotional crisis over being abandoned by Stede Bonnet (Rhys Darby). Except Hornigold mostly helps by pointing out Blackbeard’s failings, then tying a stone to his waist and throwing him off a cliff into the sea — where he sees a vision of Stede as a fish-tailed merman, coming to save him.

“Just so you know, Rhys and Taika did very well underwater,” Van Dyke told Polygon about shooting the scene. “Rhys is not an Olympic synchronized swimmer, but he’s a strong swimmer. They were both very comfortable underwater. They both did a really good job of being mermen.”

Van Dyke says he was originally asked whether he could do the scene with CG versions of the two men, for safety reasons. He explained that it was possible, “but that’ll cost millions and millions of dollars, and we don’t really have that.”

Instead, he ended up shooting the scene practically. Season 1 of Our Flag Means Death was shot on a soundstage in Los Angeles, but for season 2, production moved to New Zealand. That gave Van Dyke a lot of advantages in terms of shooting natural backdrops to use on the production’s giant virtual environment screen, and in using experienced crews from past special-effects-heavy productions, from Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings movies to James Cameron’s Avatar movies.

“There were definitely a few pieces that were serendipitously to our advantage,” Van Dyke says. “New Zealand was where they shot a lot of Avatar stuff, and there just so happens to be an enormous tank on the lot. There are a bunch of Avatar crew who are SCUBA certified, because they’ve been shooting in that tank forever. This was not something we had to figure out — we didn’t have to send a bunch of grips and lighting technicians off to SCUBA school. So they were there, they had really amazing underwater photography teams, and obviously a really good stunt team that was able to train up Taika and Rhys to make sure the scene was working.”

Van Dyke points to New Zealand’s thriving mermaid freediving community as a boon when it came to designing Darby’s merman outfit. “There are a lot of incredible mer-tails out there,” he said. “We were able to take those, and [costume designer Gypsy Taylor] and her team brought them together to make these beautiful physical pieces, so Rhys was able to actually sell it and do the performance underwater.”

For Van Dyke, the sequence really started with the cliff-jump sequence, which actually used considerably more CG than the underwater shots. “That cliff sequence was a great culmination of effects, merging physical photography and our LED wall, because you can’t really put those two guys on a thousand-foot cliff,” he said. “The insurance alone would be out of control. Also, we’re not really in the business of having people fall to their deaths.”

The cliff sequence began with sequences shot off New Zealand’s Bethells Beach, using drones to capture images looking inward from the ocean and photogrammetry of a specific ledge for production designer Ra Vincent and the art department to reproduce in the studio.

“The wide shots use production plates of those cliffs, and the tighter shots use photography we shot specifically to build out the stitching of the cliff sequence,” Van Dyke said. “Hornigold and Blackbeard are standing on a cliff set. We tied in drone plates of the actual cliffs so we can see the ocean and really set up how terrifying [the drop would be]. Then he falls into the ocean, falls into our tank.”

Once Waititi was in the tank, the next step was the shot where the stone tied to a rope around his waist pulls him deep underwater. That part of the scene required more conventional, practical production trickery than the rest of the sequence.

“The tank is massive, but it’s not 300 feet deep. It’s pretty darn big, but it’s never big enough, as they say,” Van Dyke says. “So when Taika is being tugged by the rock, we actually shot that sideways. By turning the camera sideways, you get more length to the shot. The problem is the bubbles — they should be streaming off him and then rising to the surface, but if you’re going sideways, they’re going to come off him and then go up, perpendicular to him. So we took over with CG to make sure our bubbles were traveling toward where the surface was supposed to be.”

The CG in the underwater sequence was mostly used to hide the lighting and rigging necessary to shoot it, Van Dyke says. “Anytime you’re shooting anything underwater, there’s gonna be a lot of gear. There’s no way you can get around that. So we’re making sure we have [convincing deep-sea] lighting and the bubbles. And then there’s his performance — that’s a real performance.”

For Van Dyke, the real complication was the costuming and makeup for both Darby and Waititi. “Taika’s wig — I was amazed that thing stayed on so long. It’s a long shoot. He was shooting all day, all weekend. But things stayed on. It’s a heavy weight. And Rhys is really working underwater, so his tail has to be working, so it all feels seamless.”

The shot in the underwater sequence that seems most likely to be a CG creation has both men just floating deep in the sea, facing each other above a seemingly endless abyss. Again, Van Dyke says, he used very little CG for that shot, and it was mostly to hide the tank walls.

“In that case, we were not shooting sideways,” he said. “It’s essentially a locked shot. It was about getting them at the right depth underwater, and making sure the shafts of light above them were working properly. We don’t have to track as much, we don’t have all these moving elements, we don’t have to worry about where the bubbles are going. That one was really just about cleaning up the tank, doctoring out the sides of the shot, where we can see the water receding into blackness, then giving the base of the tank true depth, so it really feels like they’re suspended a hundred feet below the surface.

“Obviously, a fair amount of CGI and visual effects had to go into it. But at the same time, it was a moment where we really needed to let the story take over, and have the visual effects just get out of the way, man.”

The first three episodes of Our Flag Means Death season 2 are now streaming on Max.

Source: Polygon

#rhys darby #taika waititi #behind the scenes #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd bts

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caputvulpinum · 2 months

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my latest tabletop characters in chronological order:

-17 year old orphaned anarchist guild leader who ends up apotheosing as the god of their homeland and ends up taking the throne to rebuild it after an apocalyptic disaster

-farmboy becomes a soldier in a war against a double-apocalypse, fucks up some invading fairies hard and gets captured as a war trophy, spends the next 400 years in fairyland before the moon says she likes his vibe and breaks him out by turning him into a furry and giving him ultimate cosmic power, which he mostly uses to act as the ethics babysitter for a godlich whose special interest is civil engineering.

-fairy princess eldritch wildlife biologist whose mom is basically titania. it was a very complicated relationship for like 14 levels and it took literal reality-altering magic rituals to start fixing their relationship. she hates the anarchist aforementioned bc hes 17.

-perfect prettygirl daughter of social climbing mother is predestined to inherit the ultimate cosmic powers of becoming part of heaven's secret police. theres two factions of the secret police and she hates both of them.

-rich frat jock gains insight into the hidden occult world and immediately uses it to start a homoerotic frat/dinner club dedicated to shapeshifting and blood sacrifice. snip snip snip

-prometheus got turned into a fairy. a girl who makes things explode with her mind and her friends turned him into a different kind of fairy. then he became her dad. he also accidentally used his fairy mind control powers to cause a global anarcho-communist insurrection due to going viral on international news. 1 billion people were actively mind controlled by it. he was not allowed on tv again but he did get a twitter

-genetically engineered soldier wolfboy has his furry polycule fireclade KIA by a gay sexy pirate and then gets saved by a ghost space whale. he then does war crimes and everyone is soooo mean to him but hes soooo sad about it. and then he performs lobotomy on himself and implants his negative emotions into a shackled AI god which loves him and hunted down his best friend and soul mate to be her service animal.

-a wizard in a mech keeps trying to infiltrate the gay space gnostics and they keep telling him no. then he gets corrupted by the logic plague because he saw the name of god and has ultrasurgery performed on him with the help of a team of hyperqualified shackled AI gods and a mad doctor who has been trying to create anti-god supersoldiers and he was the first success. and the gnostics immediately wanted his cock onboard their snake ship. he never experienced consequences for any of his actions:)

-girl from a noble family of divine heroes is very very late to inheriting divine herodom and has soooo many opinions about this. she spent the last 6 months hunting down a weird fairy with some new friends and spent the first 5 of them pretending to be stupid jock so they wouldnt bother her. she has been trying to eat the fairy this entire time but it hasnt been working yet.

-a werewolf who is big and brown and hypermasculine gets turned into a werewolf and freaks out bc apparently everything supernatural is real and he was weird for not believing in any of it. he totally doesn't have any body image issues due to being a big hypermasculine brown man with anger/resentment issues and he is totally fine with how everyone assumes he's just a stupid violent meathead despite being a trained EMT actively going back to med school for his doctorate. he literally went to a supernatural therapist to vent about lycanthropy and got scared when she did actual therapy on him. he's so in his head about how everyone interprets him as Big Scary Brown Man that he doesnt realize he's drowning in transgender dogs who are actively barking for his attention. he would put on a collar and not realize its a sex thing. a spooky nightingale told him it saw him from across the ghost forest and liked his vibes because he was a murderer

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imagines--galore · 6 months

Note

HELLO HELLO I SAW YOUR LITTLE JIM HAWKINS POST AND I GOTTA ADMIT! I LOVE THE BOY TOO!

was wondering if could request a little jim x reader who meet at the academy and have a little rivalry before becoming lovers? thanks! remember to take care, drink lots of water and stay safe!

Summary: Jim Hawkins & Y/n Y/l/n. Two of the most promising candidates to arrive at the Interstellar Academy in years. From academics to knowing their way around a ship, the both of them were on equal footing. Too bad they see the other as a rival. Then again, perhaps it was a good thing. For if they were to team up, they could conquer the entire galaxy if they wanted to. But when did that rivalry changed into something more? Pairing: Jim Hawkins x Reader Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. None. A/N: I mean who doesn't love the boy :3 Ok so the song I decided to pick is Téir Abhaile 'Riú by Celtic Woman. And I borrowed some elements from Kingdom Dance from Tangled because I love that scene. :3 And this got a little longer then I intended it to be.......I added too much detail to everything. Woops? Had a lot of fun with your request though!

You pursed your lips as you observed your reflection in the full length mirror. To say Emmy had been insistent about you donning a pretty outfit for the occasion would be an understatement. Your roommate had practically threatened you with it, saying she would no longer speak to you if you did not dress up. Honestly the female Canid didn't need to threaten you, no one could say no to her. Not even you.

So when she had dug through your closet and taken out the articles of clothing she deemed worthy for the event, you had put them on with no complain. A blouse and a corset with a skirt paired with shoes. The latter you had picked out yourself, having no desire to wear anything impractical should you need to kick someone in the nuts.

"You look gorgeous, Y/n." Parla your third roommate trained one of her several eyes in your direction, while simultaneously applying some black goo to the eyelashes of her remaining eye. "By human standards." Quel barely glanced up from where she was oiling her arms. You were thankful she was, your android roommate had a tendency to squeak when her joints would run out of oil. Emmy grinned proudly as she put the final touches to your hair and stepped away to appraise her work.

"Maybe you'll catch a sailor's eye while in town y/n." She giggled, prompting you to roll your eyes at her. "I doubt I'll have the time." You crossed your arms over your chest. "Since I will be making sure you don't run off half-drunk, Parla doesn't get in trouble because of her wandering eye and avoid Quel being stripped for parts by some con-person."

You had grown to be protective of your roommates over the years you had lived together. Emmy cooed as she reached out to embrace you sweetly. "You don't have to worry about us, honey! We've all excelled at our combat classes. Not to mention we'll have dates who can protect us." Both you and Quel glared at Emmy who only gave a nervous laugh. "Did you have to rope us all into dates?" The android asked, her mechanical voice somehow sounding annoyed. "Its best to go in a large group." Parla came to Emmy's rescue. "My grandmother says there might be some pirates or thieves in the crowd. And given the number of people that have come for the Ball, its best to find strength in numbers."

Emmy nodded enthusiastically. "Perhaps it is best to accept our fate and simply go along with the situation." Quel spoke as she stood and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. You sighed, closing your eyes briefly before shrugging and allowing a smile to play on your lips. You weren't about to be a spoilsport and ruin everyone's fun. After the month all of you had had, with the exams and revisions and tests and selecting the courses you would be majoring in, you all deserved a break.

A bright smile pulled at your lips and Emmy very early squealed at the sight. "Here's to having a night none of us will ever forget!" You stated with conviction, opening the door and leading your friends out of your shared room.

Little did you know how true those words would be for you.

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The town of Aonadh enjoyed a rather prestigious position. On one hand it was the closest to the reputable Interstellar Academy. An Institute that had been thriving for years and housed the future generation of sailors for the Queen's Armada. Many living in town had relatives who went there, or had some other form of relation with the Academy.

On the other hand, the town served as a harbor for many ships. From merchant vessels carrying riches and trading goods, to the crafts bringing new hopefuls to begin the next phase of their journey. The port of Aonadh was always bustling, always busy. There was never a quiet moment. Every other hour would bring a new ship in. Either to relieve itself of its cargo, have repairs done, or pick up people who wished to travel.

Really town was a small word for Aonadh, but the people refused to call it a city. Their ancestors started as humble farmers before the location of the Academy changed their status to something more. They were proud of what they had accomplished over the years as well as their status so a town it remained. One could find almost every life form residing in town, Arcturians, Aquanogs, Canids, Centaurous, Cragorians, Densadrons, Felinids, Geeories, Humans, Macriki, Mantavors, Minotarous, Optocs, Roboticas, Sirenius, Tuskrus, Zirrelians and a hundred more. No one could remember the first specie that lived in Aonadh and no one cared. Everyone was treated on an equal footing and the town had a huge council that had a member from every specie living in Aonadh.

There were several attractions that beckoned the young Cadets at the Academy to spend their time off in town. From pubs that never ran out of ale, to shopping markets that overflowed with the finest wares. Not to mention the massive library that housed more then a million scrolls, books, hoverstories and maps. To say nothing of the lavish streets and squares where something was always happening.

Of course the ports were the most exciting place to be. One could meet new people, learn about shipping from seasoned sailors, or even catch a tour of one if a Cadet was so lucky.

At present the excitement going about had something to do with several large ships that had docked not a day ago. Ships carrying Cadets who had passed out over the years and were coming back for their annual party of sorts. The Annual Ball it was called. Held every ten years. A huge affair. One of the biggest ones to ever occur in the entire galaxy. Guests of honor and other people of importance were sent invitations, while the rest of them simply showed up. Unless they were on duty or had anything of importance to attend to everyone came.

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It was certainly the busiest Jim Hawkins had seen it. In the years he had attended the Academy there had been several festivals he had attended with his friends, but not one of them came close to the excitement of today.

However that excitement had died down to be replaced by a burning annoyance at the sight of the only other human in his year. The very human who was now sitting at the same table as him, both of you sipping from your drinks.

It wasn't that you had anything against being set up for a blind date, it was the boy you had been set up with.

What existed between you and Jim was something of an anomaly. The both of you were the best in your batch, and quite frankly, some Professors seemed to be of the notion that you were both the best Cadets they had seen in years.

If only the two of you got along.

A bitter rivalry had formed between the both of you. Neither of you remembered who had taken the first shot, but all you knew was that you had to one up the other. And that was how it had been your entire career at the Academy.

Spiteful comments thrown at one another. Hateful glances whenever the other would be praised. Childish pranks just to annoy the other. Goading and baiting that resulted in either one or both of you getting into trouble.

The list was endless.

Honestly, if it wasn't so entertaining the Academy would've had taken action years ago. You often wandered if perhaps you and Jim had a betting pool going around in the Academy. Parla had dropped hints here and there, but you weren't quite sure.

Well, whatever existed between you and Jim, it was destroying your evening. As soon as it became clear who your date was, Parla and Quel had made themselves scarce, having the intelligence to stay clear of the obvious Supernova that was about to erupt given yours and Jim's expressions. Emmy had quickly taken you aside, begging you to go along with it, and explaining how Lyon, her crush for a good year and a half, had said he didn't want to ditch his friend while he had fun.

So Emmy had offered a solution.

Correction.

Emmy had offered you as a lamb up for slaughter.

And being the soft-hearted idiot that you were, you had relented, agreeing to going along with Emmy's plan. Only because you knew she was half in love with Lyon, and maybe this night he would work up the courage to tell her of his feelings as well.

And as you sat there, watching your best friend sway in the arms of the half-felinid and half-human male, you couldn't help but give a small smile at the happiness that seemed to radiate from the both of them.

"There must be a Supernova freezing somewhere." Stars, even his voice was annoying.

You turned your head back to look at him, that annoyed frown returning. "And what makes you say that."

He smirked, hands behind his head as he rested against the back of the booth. "You were actually smiling. I thought she-demons never smiled. Something about bursting into flames and the world coming to an end, that sort of thing."

"I smile plenty Hawkins." You responded, pursing your lips. "I just don't happen to smile at maggots such as yourself." The insult, if it were called that, seemed to bristle him enough to warrant an eye roll, though he didn't respond.

Seemingly taking his silence as a win, you returned your attention to the dancing couples. The music was lively and there would certainly be more people coming in soon. Sighing, you wished you could join in the dancing. Of course there was no chance of that happening.

You had no desire to ask a stranger, for fear they would try something untoward. And there was no way in the entire galaxy you were about to ask Jim Hawkins to dance with you.

Glancing at your empty glass of drink, you stood and stretched, completely missing Jim watching you out of the corner of his eye. "If I am to tolerate your company for the rest of this evening I'm gonna get another drink." He rolled his eyes, prompting you to give him a glare that had one too many cadets backing off in fear.

But not Jim. Jim was used to your glares and stares and returned them at an equal footing.

Walking toward the bar, you waved at the many tentacled bartender who was quick to give you your drink. The glass was a little too full, prompting you to walk carefully back to your table.

Perhaps it should've been better that you kept your attention on the people around you rather then the drink you were trying not to spill.

A boisterous group of sailors jostled you, propelling you forward and causing your drink to spill.

Nearly emptying the entire contents of it down the front of one of the sailors who had bumped into you.

"What the hell!? Watch it!" He cried out, swiping at the front of his uniform in an effort to wipe away the liquid. Of course, that didn't help.

Angry at loosing your drink, you glared at the male. "You were the one too drunk to walk properly, how am I to blame for your incompetence?" Maybe it wasn't the wisest of decisions to be picking a fight with someone who looked like he had some Densadron blood in him, but you didn't care.

You were already having a horrible evening, so why not make it worse.

Your words only served to make the male, and his group of friends angry. Pursing your lips, your hand slipped to the hidden slit of your skirt where you kept a taser knife for safety reasons. Your fingers itched, ready to pull it out when suddenly the stare down between you and the male was broken by a very familiar voice.

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you."

Astonished, you pivoted on your feet, just in time to see Hawkins drape an arm around your waist and pull you to his side. That wasn't what shocked you.

What shocked you the most was the smile he wore. One that was directed at you.

"Making friends I see." He continued while your brain tried it's best to compute the situation that was going on. "I'm sorry about that, my girlfriend gets a little light-footed when shes had one too many."

Girlfriend?!?!?

The group of sailors seemed to be calming down somewhat. Jim had that effect on people whenever he stepped in to stop a would-be squabble.

Ironic considering the numerous fights he had started in his younger days.

"How about she pay for the damage to my uniform, and I let her go." The male grunted, scowling down at the both of them. Suddenly his eyes zeroed in on you the way they hadn't before. A lecherous smile formed on his lips, one that had you scowling in disgust. "She can either pay money or show me a good time. I don't mind either." The rest of his group laughed boisterously, elbowing one another, wearing the same smile as their friend was.

His words seemed to snap you out of wherever your mind was. Pushing aside Jim's previous words, and trying hard not to comprehend where his arm still rested around her waist you opened your mouth to tell the disgusting male where he could shove something where the sun don't shine.

A firm but light pressure around your waist had you stopping. You watched, astonished, as Jim moved to stand in front of you, his stance protective, and an anger in his eyes that had you blinking in surprise.

"Or maybe I should have you reported for showing such disrespect to a future Captain of the Royal Armada."

It was then that the group realized who they were speaking to. Their gazes flitted to the pin you had proudly stuck to the right side of your chest. A coat of arms that assigned your rank, despite having not even graduated yet. Jim had the same pin, though his was hidden by the jacket he wore. Though he made no effort to hide it as he pushed aside the front of his garment to reveal it to the buffoons.

Being Captain meant you had authority and power that no lowly sailor had. It didn't matter what age you were, so long as you were a rank above, you held power.

And at that moment you wanted nothing more then to throw the idiot in jail for daring to make such a proposition to you.

The group began to retreat, taking their friend with them. The danger past, Jim turned his attention to you.

"You okay?" He asked, his eyes roving over your frame, as if looking for some sign of injury.

You nodded. "I'm fine." Despite there having been no physical altercation, you were still a little shaken. "You didn't need to step in. I had it handled." You finally said, still clutching your half full glass. Jim rolled his eyes.

"Not from where I was standing."

You scowled. "I was ready to fight him if I needed to."

Jim raised an eyebrow. "And get expelled so close to graduating? You're reckless Y/n, but I know you're not that reckless."

"And why should you care? Wouldn't you prefer to graduate top of the class all by yourself? Not share your spotlight with anyone."

He nodded. "I would." He paused before a teasing smile pulled at his lips. "But then who would be my rival when I make Captain?"

You waved your hand. "I'm sure you would find someone else to piss off."

"I doubt they would be as beautiful as you."

You gaped at him, had barely voiced your astonishment when his eyes widened in realization of what he had just said.

A bright blush overcame his cheeks, one that had him gulping nervously, raising a hand to rub at the back of his neck.

"Y-you think I'm.............beautiful?" You could barely believe the words coming out of your mouth. An awkward shrug was his only response.

Normally you would've teased him mercilessly about revealing something so intimate. But right then? Having just been saved by him, and watching him stand there, unable to meet your gaze, you couldn't help but smile.

"Don't tell me its because of my beauty that you've been a pain in my ass all these years." Your tone was light, teasing, compelling him to respond in his usual sarcastic way.

"That and you're annoying." He stated, a smile pulling at his lips as his blush began to recede. You hummed. "I didn't take you as the romantic type Hawkins."

He leaned closer. "Theres a lot of things you don't know about me y/l/n. Though one thing I can tell about you, is that you've been wanting to dance the entire night but have been too stubborn to ask me." Now, it was your turn to blush as you glared at him. Had you been that obvious? But Jim wasn't deterred.

"Shall we?" He held out a hand, indicating that you take it if you wanted to fulfill your wish to dance.

You pursed your lips, your previous annoyance for him rising to the forefront. You would never call what you felt for Jim hatred, but you wouldn't call it affection either.

But right then, you mused as you took his hand and he led you the dance floor, maybe you could label your feelings for Jim as undetermined.

For the time being.

The dance floor had lost a few dancers as the musicians in the corner prepared to play yet another song. You looked around, feeling a little nervous. It had been awhile since you had danced, and while you had no doubt in your dancing skills, you didn't trust your partner fully.

"You're not going to drop me during a dip or something like that are you?" You asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Jim laughed before shaking his head. "No, I promise I won't."

You frowned, leaning up to press the back of your hand against his forehead. "You're not running a fever are you?" You inquired, feeling your own forehead to compare the temperatures. He flushed at the sensation of her touch against his skin.

"No, why would you ask that?" His questions prompted you to shrug. "Well you're being nice to me, and neither of us have thrown an insult at the other in the last five minutes.

Jim nodded, looking impressed. "Must be a new record for us." He commented to which you laughed softly. "And I'm nice to you because I am a nice guy Y/n." He stated, to which you let out a very unlady-like sound. "Oh please, you've been anything but nice to me since we first met Jim."

Alright so it was strange to call him by his first name, but he had used your first name. And when he had? You had felt a sliver of warmth flicker in your heart. Maybe he would feel the same sensation you did?

Well you were right. At least about the warmth part. And though Jim felt that warmth in his heart, same as you, he also felt it steal across his cheeks.

God! He had never blushed so much in such a short span of time his entire life.

"Well you didn't make it easy now did you? You just had to be a smartass." You smirked. "Better a smartass then an idiot." Jim rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his toned chest. "I don't know, we've both done some pretty idiotic stuff over the years."

The musicians were still tuning and drinking. Apparently it was their break, and while there were several other couples standing around waiting for the dance to begin, your and Jim seemed to be encapsulated in your own little world.

"True, but they've been fun years. Memorable." You stated with a nostalgic smile, thinking back on all the times you had gotten into trouble playing pranks on your rival. "Ones neither of us will be forgetting for a long time." He agreed, matching your smile with his.

Your eyes met his, and you suddenly realized just how much Jim had changed over the years. He had been a little reckless and rebellious in the start, but those traits had toned down over the years. They would never be gone completely, but he had matured, no doubt about that. And not just personality wise, you mused, eyes roving his face, as if you were seeing him for the first time.

He had grown a lot taller the past few years. Taller then you at least, since he was a good head taller then you. And he was handsome, there was no denying that, and kind, given how he had just helped you out of what could've been an ugly situation. Not to mention he was extremely loyal, a trait you had always admired in him despite your rivalry.

Little did you know Jim was thinking along the same criteria. Remembering the day he had met you, and how annoying he had thought you were. With your perfect hair, perfect uniform and perfect scores. Then again his scores had always been perfect too, but he made up for it by being messy and a little rebellious.

You? You were always the picture of perfection. Even so close to graduation, every aspect of your life seemed perfect. From your scores, to your attendance record. Your gorgeous face, and expressive eyes to your hair that always looked so soft that he had to fight the urge to touch it at times.

Though today, he didn't hold back. Raising his hand, he brushed a loose tendril behind your ear, and if his hand lingered a little longer then necessary, and if it brushed against your ear, causing a gentle shudder to race through your body.

Your eyes never wavered, and it looked like he was about to say something.

Just then the music started.

Jim cursed, prompting you to raise an eyebrow at him. "Its a fast jig. I'm not really good with those." You smiled and shook your head. "Thats alright, I can teach you. Its easy."

So saying you quickly placed his hands in the appropriate places, one at your waist, the other holding your own aloft, fingers intertwining togther. As soon as you started moving, Jim cast his eyes downwards, trying his best not to step on your feet.

"Hey!" Your voice compelled him to look up, nearly catching your foot but you gave him a reassuring smile. "Eyes on me. You gotta dance right. Don't worry about my toes, they're made of steel."

He gave a dry laugh, but did as you asked him to. Neither of you looked away from the other, allowing the music from the minstrels and the voices of the singers to overtake all your senses.

You would sometimes tease him for a misstep, he would comment about your being a talented dancer who hid their talent, but there was no malice in your voices. Only playfulness, and dare you think, affection.

The jig began to pick up speed, the footwork getting a little complicated, but the steps were ones that kept repeating over and over, and Jim had always been a fast learner, and he had seen many people dance to this particular song over the years.

So when the part came where he had to twirl you away from him before bringing you back, the move was so effortless and fluid that it looked like you had rehearsed it. Your hair and skirt flew about you as you twirled back into him, your back against his chest, his arms around your body, hands clasped, keeping you close.

You tilted your head, breathless from the dance, your gaze meeting his. Suddenly all that playfulness became charged, and your eyes glimmered with a passion you had never felt before. His lips were so close to your own. To him your lips looked so inviting.

But then the dance continued, and you straightened in his embrace. This time though, this time neither of you spoke. Neither of you looked away as you continued to dance. Hearts beating faster, steps picking up speed, your movements becoming wilder more impassioned.

You twirled away from him, holding one side of your skirt aloft. The song was coming to a close. The last verse had begun, where you would dance around your partner, slow and playful, never breaking eye contact.

And the final chorus? That was the main attraction. Knowing what was to come, Jim braced himself. You took a running start, jumping a little as you neared him to give yourself enough momentum to fly upwards, only to have Jim catch you around your waist, spinning in a fast circle.

A laugh fell from your lips, your arms held aloft at your sides, enjoying the sensation of flying through the air. As Jim began to lower you, your head tilted to look at him once more. Your arms dropped to wrap around his broad shoulders, while his rested around your waist.

The song had ended, the both of you were breathing heavily, twin smiles of jubilation stretching your mouths as the crowd around you roared. It seemed both your dancing had attracted quite the crowd.

And the cheering doubled tenfold when Jim suddenly closed whatever distance was left between the both of you and fused his lips with yours. A moment of disbelief, where your eyes widened almost comically, before closing shut, lips moving as you kissed him back.

It was blissfully sinful, the way he kissed you. You sighed almost dreamily against his lips, allowing your fingers to play with his hair. Jim was no better, he was doing his best not to let his hands explore too much. You were still in public after all.

"What in the furthest reaches of the galaxy is happening here?"

The shrieking voice tore your apart. Extremely reluctantly, you might add as you both turned to glare at Emmy and Lyon in annoyance. Emmy looked like she was about to faint, while Lyon looked utterly bemused.

"We weren't disturbing you while you locked lips, so why're you disturbing us?" You asked, your arms still around Jim's shoulders. Then again his hands still rested on your back, keeping you close.

"Weren't the two of you just at each other's throats?" Lyon asked, blinking stupidly at the two of them. Jim smirked. "Well I can get to her throat again if you prefer. Though not in the same way as before." His words had Emmy squeaking, Lyon gaping, and you rolling your eyes and smacking the back of his head. "Lets not ruin their innocence Jim." You grinned.

"Maybe we should take this someplace private?" You whispered, gesturing between the both of you. "Away from prying eyes." Jim needed no further prompting.

Grasping your hand, he began to lead you out of the tavern. "Don't wait up!" He called out to your two best friends.

"What did I just say about ruining their innocence Hawkins?"

"What? We can always say we just played a game of battleship?"

"Really? That's the euphemism you're using?"

"So long as it clarifies that I'm gonna beat you at whatever we'll be doing."

"What makes you think you're gonna win?"

"I always win."

"Oh, we'll see about that!"

Emmy and Lyon stood blinking in disbelief as you and Jim walked out of the tavern, continuing your arguing.

"Were they talking about having sex, or actually playing Battleship?" Emmy asked, sounding just as bewildered as she looked. Lyon made a face.

"Knowing them, they were actually talking about the latter before moving on to the former."

Emmy shook her head. "Oh, there was nothing in the betting pool for this." She giggled. "Everyone is gonna be so angry."

#jim hawkins x y/n #jim hawkins x reader #jim hawkins #jim hawkins x oc #treasure planet #disney #tangled #kingdom dance #wish #disney channel #disney movie #mickey mouse #marvel

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dumbasshomo · 25 days

Text

hell hath no fury like a woman scorned

aka jay ferin is scary and protective

people overlooked the younger ferin sister. she trained and played with friends but she just was normal.

then she ran off in the middle of the night. navy soldiers knew of her plans and finally they looked at her with pride. her father finally talked about her.

then she turned away. ran off with pirates. then those same navy soldiers learnt to pay attention

they were surrounded. their team facing a crew of pirates one being the quiet ferin girl. they saw her, finally.

the navy training had paid off but when facing them it seemed like the biggest mistake. mechanical wings spread out behind her, an angel of vengeance, her very presence blocking out the sun.

she held a pistol in her hand, no longer her fathers child but a different ferin.

she was a menace, but once she saw her crewmate fall she was terrifying. she shot with grace and speed, barely blinking as their comrades fell, blood pooled on the floor but she never, not once faltered.

when her bullets ran out, she wielded a sword. their men screamed before one by one it fell silent. her fury filed the room until she could help her friend. only one survived, left as a warning.

#jrwi #just roll with it #jrwi headcanon #gillion tidestrider #jay ferin #jrwi chip #jrwi riptide #chip bastard #albatrio #jrwi jay #scary albatrio #jrwi hc #jrwi show

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calypsocolada · 1 year

Text

WINNER WINNER | r. zoro

(click here for part two)

synopsis: a stoic swordsman helps you figure out what your type is. authors note: hi :] i like zoro. no other notes. cw: violence, fluff, small bit of angst, clueless!reader, kissin :*, zoroxreader, small bit of sanjixreader wc: 4.4k

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Zoro’s wooden practice sword swung in an unpredictable arch, you knew you couldn’t avoid it so you turned, letting it smack hard against your shoulder. Pain zaps through your body, the hit more annoying than painful.

“Ow!” You growled, eyes narrowing. Zoro danced around you, you never knew how light-footed he could be, how quick and precise his sword play was. Zoro was a huge man, he was easily two feet taller than you, built like a damn freight train and somehow still quicker than you. Zoro’s mouth quirked up in a smart ass smirk, his brows raising tauntingly.

“I thought you said you were getting better.” He jested, obviously trying to get a rise out of you. You took the bait every damn time. You swing your sword in anger.

“I am!” You yelled, he dodged your assault with ease, playfully hitting your back as you stumbled forwards. You gained your footing and spun back around, swinging again but he just bats it away lazily.

“Come on, killer, swing with purpose not with anger.” He says listlessly, like he’s bored with this.

Of course he was bored, he was probably the best swordsman in the world, you were just some idiot pirates daughter. It had been a few months since escaping your fathers crew and although you were one of your fathers best fighters you fought more close combat style, with knives mostly. Swords were long and heavy, especially the ones Zoro used. It was like he made them out of boulders rather than steel. But right now you were using practice swords because you’re sure that if this was a real fight you’d be dead and buried.

You grip the handle of the sword hard, knuckles turning white. You weren’t used to defeat, it left a sour taste in your mouth. Zoro’s stretched a bit, yawning. The anger always took you over. You were your fathers daughter after all. You pretended to swing the sword again, with clumsy maneuvering and when Zoro went to bat it away you chucked the sword aside, dodging his blade, hitting him square in the stomach with your shoulder. It was meant to take him down but he didn’t budge against you. It was as though you were pushing against a damn tree. You remembered just then how it felt fighting your father, how unmovable he was. You were raising your knee before you could even stop yourself as he knee him square between the legs. A rush of air leaves his lips and the way his body shifts you know you finally caught him off balance. You sweep a leg out from under him and with all the force in your body you shove against him. You both slam against the forest floor, your hips straddling his abs as you jam your forearm down against his neck, successfully pinning him beneath you. He looks up at you with immeasurable annoyance.

“You’re a dirty fighter.” He huffs, groaning in pain. You nod your head, a proud fact you already knew.

“You’ve met my father, right?” You jest. This was something new you were learning. Since joining up with Luffy’s crew there were a few things you had to learn.

They weren’t out to get you.

You were raised by a killer, his crew were a bunch of killers so naturally you grew up always keeping watch of those around you because the moment you slacked out someone would have their hands around your neck just waiting to extinguish your fire.

2. You had to soften up and learn to work as a member of a team.

This one you were still working on. You were alone most of your life, your father never spared you a kind word and sometimes at night you’d lay awake, knowing you were just like him sometimes. You guarded every part of your heart so well that sometimes you could trick yourself into thinking you never had one to begin with. But it beat the day you met Luffy’s crew. They saved you, even when you were good, they knew who and where’d you’d come from and still accepted you for who you were. That meant to you that you had to change. If you wanted to stay a member of this crew you had to let them in. You couldn’t push them away because one bad day would come and they’d stay away. You didn’t think you could survive that. Knowing that there was warmth in this world that you turned cold.

3. Lastly, how to protect someone.

You could protect yourself just fine because you’d been left behind in wakes your entire life. But you wouldn’t do that to them. You’d stay and fight because that’s what they did for you. You weren’t just looking out for yourself anymore, you had people, possibly a family, it’d take the devil himself to pull that from your grip.

“Yeah I met him, he’s an asshole, like you.” Zoro grunts, his pinned hands escaping from your fingers as he turns the tide, swinging you to your back, pressing you into the dirt. You’re not sure where his sword came from but the wooden edge of it was pressed gently against your throat. He beat you. You groaned out a sigh as he cocked his head to the side.

“I had you.” You fume as he purses his lips, he’s heavy against you, it feels like ten men rather than one.

“For a second.”

“That’s all a killer needs.” You dared. He must’ve seen that look in your eyes before because he presses the sword ever closer to your neck, but not hard enough to actually hurt.

“We’re done for today.” He says and suddenly his weight is lifted off you and you feel as though you could finally breathe again. You didn’t know you were holding your breath. Zoro extends a hand to you, narrowing his eyes. “No funny business, I’m hungry.” He warns because for someone who’s only known you for a few months he knows you pretty damn well. Knew that look in your eye, that you would take his hand and end up trying to pin him beneath you again. He knew you hated to lose. You took his hand and did nothing of the sort because you were hungry too. He pulled you to your feet with ease and kept hold of your hand for a second as he spoke. “You’re a good fighter, don’t give up on practicing.” He says and the look in his eye is intense, he meant it. He lets your hand go and bends to grab the practice sword that you tossed aside.

“I don’t see the point in it, I fight better close.”

“You can fight better any way you choose. You master the sword and you give yourself more options.” He says, tossing it to you, you catch it with ease.

“More options?”

“To survive. You want that don’t you?” He asks over his shoulder, walking back towards the camp that the crew had set up near the beach. You never thought of it like that before. You learned how to fight because your father needed someone unassuming to kill. Who’s more unassuming than a young girl? You always fought to kill, to end lives, you never cared much for your own. Who could care for a killer after all? Zoro slowed, tossing a glance over his shoulder at you after you took too long to answer.

“Of course I want that.” But your words sounded hollow. There was still that nagging voice of your fathers. There was only so many times someone you looked up to could call you worthless before you started to believe it. It was ingrained in you. To live but not feel worthy of life. Maybe you did want to live, but that didn’t mean you felt like you deserved to. You’d done wrong your entire life, killed and followed in the footsteps of someone you knew was bad. Didn’t that make you guilty of something?

Zoro’s eyes dissected you, that face you made and the tone of your voice. He was a smart man and for all his faux uninterested stare he read you like a damn book. Like he’d cracked open your mind and read your innermost secrets. It was strange, having someone who you couldn’t fool. Someone who could look at you and call bullshit.

“Do you just want to survive for the sake of others or for yourself?” He asked, slowing to a stop. Crickets chirped around you, wind picking up, swaying the leaves of the trees gently. You stopped too, mindlessly turning the practice sword over in your hands.

“Is that a trick question?” You asked and watched him shake his head. You turn the question over in your head. “Surviving for yourself is quite selfish right?”

“Not necessarily.” He breathes out, walking and plopping down listlessly on a stump, he stretches out his legs. “You charge into things head on, you don’t wait for others to act.”

“That’s a good thing.” You cross your arms defensively. “How else would you catch enemies by surprise?”

“By others I meant your crew. When you charge into things you could end up getting hurt.” He countered, you kick at a raised root and toss your head back a bit dramatically.

“But if I kill the bad guys first you guys have nothing to worry about.”

“We’d still worry about you.”

“Why?” You questioned as though someone worrying about you was way out of the realm of possibility.

“Because you aren’t a martyr, we don’t need you throwing yourself on the knife.” Zoro argues, it’s one of the first times he seems interested in what he’s talking about. Passionate even. “I know what you’re used to. That’s why I wanted to train you.”

“So I can fight with a long blade instead of a short one?” You quipped.

“So you can fight next to me.” He says as though you should’ve known. You look up from the ground over to him. He has this strange look in his eyes, the kind of strange look Sanji gave you sometimes, though Sanji looked at every girl like that. But not Zoro, the man was inexpressive usually.

“Fight next to you?” You echo, as if trying the words out loud would give them a different meaning. Zoro nods his head.

“Wouldn’t it be nice? Not having to wonder who has your back?” He asks. You look at him, something stirring inside you.

“Is that what you want?” You start. “Someone who can keep up with you?”

He nods his head.

“Don’t you?” You ponder it for a moment.

“I guess, yeah.” You say softly. “I feel like I keep up with you just fine.”

“You could be better.” Zoro jests, pushing off the stump he sat on.

“I took you down, big man.” You growl, jogging to catch up with him as the sun starts to set.

“You cheated.”

“I was being… resourceful.” You said and heard Zoro laugh, a warm laugh coming from his chest. You never heard him laugh before, probably in the same way he’d never heard you laugh. You both were somewhat serious types.

“Sure, let’s call it that.” He intones.

Back at the campsite the first person to greet you and Zoro was Sanji. Ever since landing on this island Sanji had been acting somewhat differently to Zoro, almost colder. You had no idea what that was about and honestly you didn’t care, not presently because they always bickered anyways.

“There you guys are!” Sanji all but growls, shooting dagger at Zoro. “We’ve been waiting for you.” He says, giving you a kind smile.

“We didn’t mean to keep you guys, you could’ve eaten.” You say as Sanji shakes his head, guiding you with a gentle hand on your back towards the food.

“Nonsense, it was no trouble.” Sanji croons as you look towards the rest of the crew. Luffy has his hands crossed against his chest tightly, his face scrunched in annoyance.

“It was a little trouble.” Luffy grumbles as Sanji shoots daggers at him. You sit down, Sanji occupying the seat next to you as Zoro plops down in the sand across from you. It's quiet as everyone digs into their food.

“How is it?” Sanji asks, eyes watching you. You’d just filled your mouthful, unable to answer right at that moment.

“It’s a little salty.” Usopp chided as Sanji hurled a dinner roll at him.

“I wasn’t asking you!” Sanji ranted, the roll hitting Usopp square between the eyes. You and Luffy both snort in laughter. You laugh, almost choking on your food which serves to make you two laugh even harder. Sanji turns to you with a worried expression, lightly hitting your back as you're able to swallow your food properly. You bite your lip to keep from laughing as you give Sanji a small smile.

“It tastes good, Sanji, thank you.” You say and Sanji practically melts.

“Usopp’s right,” Zoro starts, a mischievous look in his eyes. “It’s a bit salty.” Sanji’s eyes turn to slits as he grabs another roll, hucking it at Zoro who catches it with ease, grinning before taking a bite out of it.

“I don’t care what you think because my dear Y/n likes it.” Sanji proclaimed, turning to you. “Would you like some more, dear?”

“Sure.” You shrug as he practically stumbles over himself to grab you more. Your eyes meet with Zoro’s, he gives you a wink and you roll your eyes. Zoro liked messing with Sanji and most of the time it was pretty funny. Sanji took a big liking to you and Zoro liked to tease him about it. You weren’t sure what it was that Sanji liked about you but he was always quick to give you anything you asked for. Sanji fills your plate and as the night winds down Luffy, Nami and Usopp take off for bed.

You sit by the fire next to Sanji, your legs pulled to your chest as he leans back, eyes staring at the stars. It’s quiet, just the sound of the fire crackling and the waves of water crashing nearby. Your eyes watch the fire as it slowly lulls you into comfort. Suddenly a blanket is placed over your shoulders as you blink, eyes watering. You turn to see Zoro as he plops down near you. You silently thank him, pulling the covers closer to your chest, shielded from the cold. Something burning hotter was the look you caught sight of from Sanji, he looked as though he was seconds away from challenging Zoro to a duel. But when he noticed you his face morphed into a smile again.

“Is a measly blanket gonna be enough to keep you warm, my dear?” Sanji asks. “I could scoot closer to you?” He offers.

“The blanket’s good.” You answer, unaware of the implications. Zoro snorts beside you, amused at something you weren’t sure of.

“Do you have something to add, Zoro?” Sanji hisses as Zoro, face unphased as he shrugs his shoulders.

“Sanji?” You start.

“Yes, dear?” He asks, voice all soft, way different from the tone he was using a second ago.

“Did Zoro do something to make you angry?” You ask, making Zoro snort again. Sanji shakes his head.

“Nothing more than usual, dear, no need to worry.” He says and you nod your head, satisfied with that answer, eyes sliding back towards the fire. “Could I ask you something?”

“Hmm?” You hum, watching the flames flicker and dance.

“What’s your type?” He asks. Zoro doesn’t snort this time, he fully laughs, gaining an angry stare from Sanji. “Shut your mouth you damn idiot!” Sanji yells across the fire at Zoro. “You’re ruining the moment!”

“My type of what?” You ask cluelessly. Zoro can’t help but laugh even more. You look over at him, confused but he’s laughing so hard his eyes are closed. You look back at Sanji.

“Ignore that damn fool, dear. Your type in a partner.” He explains.

“Type in a partner?” You echo, Zoro slowly quiets down next to you. Sanji nods his head. You purse your lips, thinking. You and Zoro fought pretty well together the few times you had to, it was just mere hours ago that he told you he liked the idea of fighting with you and you had to admit you didn’t mind that also. “I guess Zoro would be my type.” You say, completely unaware of the havoc you just caused. Sanji clamps a hand to his chest dramatically over his heart. You look at Zoro, his cheeks blushing a moment before he begins a fit of laughter all over again. Understanding the miscommunication before you and Sanji do.

“You hear that, Sanji? I’m her type.” Zoro boasts jokingly, throwing an arm around your shoulders, loving the effect it was having on Sanji. Sanji looked like a deflated balloon. Sanji sinks back into the sand as you cock your head, confused. Zoro gives your shoulder a small squeeze as you look back over at him. “He meant romantic partner.” He whispers just to you. Your eyebrows raise, mouthing the word ‘oh’.

“I’m sorry, Sanji, I thought you meant fighting partner.” You corrected and Sanji shot back up, hopefulness on his face again.

“It’s okay, dear, you scared me there.” Sanji sighs wistfully, running a hand through his hair. Zoro’s arm moves away from you as you look back at him.

“Keep it there.” You order softly. “I was getting warm.” Zoro’s brows raise in surprise but he does as you ask, even scooting a bit closer to you. When you look back at Sanji his jaw is practically touching the sand. “What?” You ask innocently, he shuts his mouth instantly, shaking his head.

“N-nothing.” He turns away, kicking sand at the fire. You feel Zoro laugh softly. You had no idea what sort of nonverbal conversation these two were having and honestly you didn’t care to know. You close your eyes, leaning into Zoro’s warmth. Romantic partner. You were thinking about it now because you’d never thought about it before. There was no love where you came from, no positive role models, no romantic tension. That stuff was way out of your realm of understanding.

“How do you know your type?” You ask, turning to look at Sanji. His eyes meet yours, his eyes glancing at Zoro’s arm around your shoulders then back to you.

“That's a hard one to explain.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Is it something you just know?” You ask and Sanji nods his head.

“More or less, yeah,” Suddenly he lets out a big yawn, stretching. “Boy am I beat. Are you tired?” He asks you.

“Not really.” You say and watch as he pouts.

“Maybe you should head off to bed then.” Zoro says. Sanji’s eyes glare his way as he grumbles, pushing up from the sand and dusting himself off.

“Night,” He says sharply, trudging across the sand back towards the ship. You watch him go.

“He is so strange.” You whisper, earning a warm laugh from Zoro.

“You're clueless, you know that.” He remarked with another soft laugh. You turn to look at him.

“Why?” You ask, his eyes slide to yours.

“He likes you, killer, a lot.” Zoro explains. You furrow your brows, you already knew he liked you, he treated you very kindly. “And I know what you're thinking. It’s not that kind of like.”

“What other kind is there?” This garners another laugh. “Stop laughing at me!”

“I’m sorry,” Zoro chuckles, smiling warmly. “He likes you… romantically.” He emphasizes and suddenly everything starts falling into place in your mind. He was always going out of his way for you, giving you extra food, following you around like a lost puppy, practically begging for your attention.

“Hm.” You hum, turning back to look at the fire.

“Hm?” Zoro echoes. “You sound mildly uninterested.”

“Eh, I don’t- I guess I don’t understand.”

“Which part?”

“Why would he like me? That makes no sense.” You say and for a moment Zoro is quiet, you turn to look at him, his cheeks pink, probably from the heat of the fire you guessed.

“Do you really want me to answer that?” He asks. And when you just look at him quizzically he pities you a bit. He inhales, sighing. “You do know you're gorgeous right?” He asks as though you did know that. That was not what you were expecting him to say. You can’t remember the last time someone referred to you in a positive connotation.

“I-- I don’t think so.” You say, your cheeks feel hot under Zoro’s stare, you feel slightly nervous suddenly, but not a bad nervous, you're not really sure how to explain it. It’s completely new to you.

“Well you are. And you're strong, men love strong women.” Zoro goes on, he’s leaning back slightly, his arm still around you as he gazes up at the stars. You bite your lip, your mouth feels dry. Were you getting sick or something?

“Do you?”

“Hell yeah I do, I’m not an idiot.” He says, amused. You nod your head.

“Hm.” You say and he looks at you with that amused expression. “But what does him liking me have to do with you? He looked angry with you all night?” You ask, piecing things together in your mind.

“He’s jealous, killer.” He says.

“Jealous, huh…” You trail off. “Because you're a good partner?” You ask and he scoffs a laugh, shaking his head.

“Sure, let's go with that.” He intones. You lay your head back down on his shoulder, settling against him. You always found your way to Zoro, you two had grown pretty close in the past few weeks. He was a calming presence, one you always seeked out. You liked sitting near him, talking with him and training with him. You liked when he talked and when he looked at you. It was strange, you’d never felt that way before meeting him. Never let your guard down but he just felt like a calming, safe presence to you.

“What’s your type?” You ask and you feel Zoro tense up slightly, you turn slightly to look up at him. “Something wrong?”

“No, nothings wrong.” He says, recovering smoothly. “Are we talking about fighting partners?” He jokes, earning a laugh from you.

“Apparently not.” You answer. Waiting for a reply. Zoro’s arm slightly tightens around you, pulling you just a bit closer as he fixes the cover that had fallen off your shoulder.

“I think I might keep that a mystery.” He answers as you huff out a laugh.

“Keep your secrets then.” You say, letting your eyes drift closed. Sanji’s words float back into your mind, when you asked if liking someone was just something that you knew and he said more or less. It was something you just knew? That was harder to understand for you. “I think I’d like someone who I feel safe with.” You find yourself saying aloud as you try and imagine what that means, you were still kind of getting fighting partner mixed up with a romantic partner because both options you felt you needed someone you could trust.

“That’s a good thing to look out for, killer.” He says softly. You think hard. You felt safe with Zoro, you felt comfortable enough to rest against him. You couldn’t see yourself doing that with Sanji although you trusted him you didn’t want to be that close. Your mind was reeling now. So you liked being close to Zoro? Did that mean anything or nothing at all? You squeezed your eyes shut.

“Romance is confusing.” You find yourself saying. Zoro chuckles, nodding his head.

“Damn straight.” You lift up slightly as he turns to meet your eyes.

“How do you know you know, you know?” You ask as Zoro’s brows raise.

“I don’t know?” He asks as you purse your lips.

“Sanji said your type was just something you knew,” You puzzled.

“Killer, I think you may be overthinking it.” Zoro says.

“What if you think you like someone but you're not completely sure?” You ask as Zoro hums slightly, thinking up an answer for you.

“I guess- I guess you could kiss them.” He offers and you nod your head, leaning forwards to press a quick, searching kiss to Zoro’s lips. For someone so rough around the edges his lips are surprisingly soft against yours, cold from the night time wind. When you pull back Zoro’s eyes are closed, his cheeks as red as cherries. He slowly opens his eyes, he’s stunned to say the least.

“I’ve never kissed someone before.” You say, eyes glancing back down at his lips. You kissed him too quickly to tell if anything came from it. “I’m gonna try again.” You say and he stammers but doesn’t object as you scoot closer and lean to press your lips back against his. You leave them there for a moment. You’d seen people kiss before but trying it now you were completely unsure of the correct way to do it. You feel something bloom but you're pulling away before you can put meaning to it. “I suck at this. You do it.” You say as Zoro finally finds his words.

“You kissed me.” He says shocked and you nod your head.

“It was bad, I don’t know what I’m doing. This is like training with a sword all over again.” You grumble, pouting and crossing your arms.

“You just need a good instructor.” Zoro’s hand slides up from your shoulder to your cheek, moving your face to face him. You have no time to access the way your stomach bottoms out at that before he’s bringing you flush against his lips this time in a delicate embrace. His fingers tangled in your hair, a shock zaps through you at the contact. Zoro knew exactly what he was doing, he was skilled in more ways than fighting it seemed. You burned all over, your breath catching in your throat. Sanji was right, you knew right then. Right as he pulled you impossibly closer and kissed you with fervor and confidence. When he pulled back your lips chased after him slightly as you stopped yourself. You swallowed dryly.

“Was that good for you?” He asks, his voice all breathy and hoarse.

“Uh huh.” You exhale. It's quiet for a beat. “I think,” you start, clearing your throat. “I think maybe you should try again.” You whisper and you don’t have to say anything else because Zoro understands. That and he’s kissing you before you can utter another word.

#one peice x reader #one piece zoro #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro roronoa x you #sanji vinsmoke #sanji x reader #one piece #one piece sanji #zoro x reader #zoro roronoa #usopp #monkey d. luffy #opla x y/n #zoro opla x reader #zoro opla

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somanyratsinthewalls · 8 months

Text

The Crew's Whore Part 7 (+18)

Summary: You are the former owner of the Grand Line’s most popular brothel. Your powerful fighting abilities got the attention of the captain of the Straw Hat Pirates. He had asked you to join their crew but what would you bring to the team? Your battle skills were hardly comparable to many of the other Straw Hats… but you actually had a great skill. Your years working as a high end escort had prepared you to become the private plaything for this pirate crew. You joined the Straw Hats as their personal sex toy.

Pairing: Zoro x Female Reader x Luffy

WC: 2300

TW: threesome, body use, p in v sex, no protection (don't do that), creampie (also don't do that), Luffy isn't asexual (ah), Zoro like has the biggest gay crush on his captain, facefucking, cum eating, no aftercare, being walked in on.

— —

You roll over in your bed lazily and stretch your arms over your head. It wasn’t often that you got your bed to yourself all night so you truly enjoyed the occasion. You had over 10 hours uninterrupted on your own due to your callers' schedules conflicting and you could have sworn you slept like the dead.

You slide out of bed and throw on some shorts and a sweatshirt, readying yourself for the quest to find breakfast. After sliding on your slippers, you creep quietly towards the galley and open the door. The galley smelled of coffee, melting butter, and the faint stale smell of cigarettes. You see the fresh carafe of coffee on the kitchen island and pour yourself a cup. You grab your mug of hot coffee and head towards the fridge and open it up to find something to eat.

“Y/n? My darling angel what can I get for you? Perhaps a late lunch?” Sanji comes in through the back door of the galley, snuffing out his cigarette.

“Hi Sanji- wait, late lunch? What time is it?” You cock your head as you let your body lean into Sanji’s extended arms. Sanji wraps his arms around you as you nuzzle into his chest.

“Almost 4:30, darling. You’ve been asleep, you needed the rest.” Sanji leaned down and kissed the crown of your head.

“Ah shit, I promised Zoro I’d train today. Could you whip up something now before I head up there? If I show up to a training match with Zoro on an empty stomach I’ll be spending the night in the med bay with Chopper.” You pull away from Sanji to start wrapping up your wrists for your training session.

Sanji sighed.

“Of course, my love. I’ll make you something with lots of carbs and protein. Selfishly, I must have you coming home to me, no matter how badly that brute treats you.” Sanji smirks and begins cooking.

You bring your blades into the galley and begin to sharpen them. At the counter, your eyes oscillate from your swords to Sanji preparing your meal. The way he smiled at you every time he turned around from stove to ask you your preference on something… he was such a dream. He asked you about what was going on in your life while he cooked you a pre training snack.

“Did Franky tell you about his latest project?” Sanji asks you from across the counter. You didn’t have time to respond before Sanji swiftly slides his slim body to the stove. “Do you want butter on your croissant?” Sanji changes gears as he begins to plate your meal.

“Yes please.” You respond.

Before you had time to process Sanji’s previous question, the most beautiful presentation of scrambled eggs on a French pastry was being placed in front of you.

“Jeez Sanji, if I knew I’d get this type of treatment, I’d snooze the day away more often.” Your eyebrows raise and you grab your fork.

Sanji smiles as he sprinkles a few chives on your dish before you dig in.

“Bon appetit, mon ange.”

— —

You scarfed your early dinner down and headed up to the crows nest, knowing Zoro would be waiting for you to train. You ascended the ladder and opened up the hatch to let yourself into the circular crows nest. Upon arriving to Zoro’s makeshift dojo, you find him bench pressing an impossibly heavy weight over his chest.

“You’re late.” Zoro scolds you without looking in your direction.

“Hello to you too, swordsman.” You shed your sweatshirt, leaving you in a sports bra and bike shorts.

“I told Luffy I’d practice with him later, so I’m not sparring with you tonight. We’re doing weights. Grab those over there.” Zoro nods towards a pair 40 lb dumbbells and you grabbed them. You weren’t brought onto the crew as a fighter, but as a Straw Hat you were obviously able to physically hold your own. You grab the weights and begin your routine.

“You smell like that shitty waiter.” Zoro eventually remarks after you spent nearly 30 minutes working out in silence.

“I slept late, I needed food. Leave it alone, Zoro.” You roll your eyes at him while you continued your workout.

“You were the one who said you wanted to spend time with me, and now you’re here smelling like cigarettes and male loneliness.”

You chuckle and almost lose pace in your weight lifting.

“Now that you’ve seen each other naked I figured you might be getting along better.” You smirk, purposely riling your swordsman up.

“Don’t be gross, y/n. I didn’t need to see that to know I have the bigger dick.” Zoro continues pushing the heavy weight away from his chest. Endorphins were pumping through your veins from your workout so you decide to change up your routine.

“Are you jealous, Mr Roronoa?” You pick up new weights and begin a rep of squats, making sure Zoro could see your ass flex in the tight spandex.

Zoro scoffs.

“I don’t get jealous. I just like having my girl to myself. And I know you enjoy our time together too…”

“Like last week when you had me bent over the aquarium bar?” You recall a particularly filthy instance where Zoro had taken you roughly after a tipsy night filled with sake bottles and inappropriate touches.

“Yeah…” Zoro huffs out, continuing his reps. “Just like that…”

You could feel his eyes on your body as you tried to maintain focus on your exercise. After several more minutes, Zoro puts the weighted bar back onto the rack and he breaks the silence.

“Come sit on my cock.”

You smile and set your weights down. You begin to saunter over to Zoro laying on his back on the weight bench, his pants tented.

“No romance today, swordsman?” You lift your sports bra over your head, letting your breasts bounce freely. Zoro groans at the sight of your naked tits. You slip your bike shorts down your legs and step out of them as you reach your green haired lover. “Needy, hmm?” You stroke his growing bulge over his pants and smile down at him.

“The only thing I need is for you to ride this dick and be good. Now hop up.” Zoro unfastens his pants and pushes them down his legs, freeing his now hard cock that bobbed towards his abdomen. You begin to straddle him before Zoro stops you with his powerful, scarred hands on your hips.

“Nah uh. Turn around. Wanna see that ass bounce.” Zoro swings your body around so you’re facing away from him and towards the hatch to the crows nest in the center of the room. He lifts your hips again and settles your entrance over his erection. He spits into one of his hands and smears it over the head of his cock. He sinks you onto him without any prep and you whine out.

One fully seated on Zoro’s lap, you wiggle your hips to get used to the full sensation. Zoro kneads at your ass cheeks to encourage you.

“I know it’s a lot baby, take your time.” Zoro flexes his thighs and bounces you softly, feeling your walls become slicker and accept his intrusion easier and easier by the moment.

“Fuck you’re so big, Zoro… shit…” You sigh as you feel the stretch of his cock inside of you turn into white hot pleasure. You firmly plant your feet on the floor and begin grinding on Zoro at your own pace. You find the perfect angle for Zoro to hit your sweet spot and continue your movements on top of him. You moan and throw your head back.

“How are you this tight? Fuck-“ Zoro grunts and grips your hips tighter. “Am I the only one on this ship that fucks you properly?”

Your body was alight with endorphins from the intense workout and the feeling of your lover inside of you, you couldn’t help but grin brainlessly as you bounce faster on Zoro’s cock.

“You always fuck me so good, Zoro. Love your cock so much…” You were dick drunk so fast, you hardly knew what was coming out of your mouth. You hear your lover growl from behind you at your filthy words. He grabs your arms and pulls them behind you. He uses them as leverage to pound up into you from below.

“Zoro, fuck, Zoro!” His name poured from your lips like a powerful waterfall as he held you completely powerless in his strong hands. Your body leans forward lifelessly as Zoro holds your arms from behind you. Your head bobs pathetically as he drills into your wet pussy from underneath you.

“Zoro!”

Zoro’s eyes are drawn away from your jiggling ass cheeks slamming onto his pelvis. Was that last ‘Zoro’ from you? It sounded different.

The hatch to the crows nest slams open.

“Zoro! We’re supposed to train tonight! Sanji just barbecued half of a whole sea king for me so I hope you’re ready to get your ass kicked haha!” Luffy hops up excitedly into the crows nest.

You gasp.

“Luffy!” You instinctively yell out in surprise.

“Oh, seems like you guys are still busy, huh!” Luffy chuckles out at your shocked expression.

“Oh hey Captain.” Zoro peers around your naked body atop his dick as he looks towards Luffy. “Sorry, training with y/n went a little long.” Zoro bucks his hips up again into yours and you moan. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Thats okay!” Luffy grins and walks towards you two on the weight bench. “Wow, y/n you’re really sweaty haha!” Your captain gets close enough to your to push your damp bangs off of your forehead. You had never been propositioned by Luffy, you hadn’t questioned it, just assuming he’d rather fight or eat than fuck.

“You know, Luffy…” Zoro begins. “You could take her mouth, I’m sure she’s more than willing. Right, y/n?" Zoro punctuates his last sentence with a hard thrust into your sweet spot.

“AH! Fuck, yes!” Your mouth hangs open and your tongue lolls out. “Oh yeah?” Luffy giggles. “She is already drooling everywhere. You’d share her with me, Zoro?” Luffy asks, getting closer to your face.

“Whatever my captain wants.” Zoro smirks devilishly. Luffy smiles back and begins undoing his demin shorts in front of your face. Zoro moves his hold from your arms to your wrists behind your back so you could lean down further to be at Luffy’s crotch level, all while pounding into your soaking cunt. Luffy releases himself from the confines of his clothes and his cock bobs in your face.

“Ok baby girl, time to suck off your captain. Open wide…” Zoro goads you from behind. Without having use of your hands, you clumsily take Luffy’s red, uncut tip into your mouth. You hungrily slurp down Luffy’s cock as you moan out from the powerful fucking you were getting from Zoro.

“You’re really good at that, y/n!” Luffy praises you and pets your hair gently. “Mmm, move your tongue more… mm yeah just like that!”

“Hnnmmpphh!” You groan around your captain’s thick length.

“Oooh, that’s good too! Zoro do whatever that was again, she feels so good when she moans!”

“Aye aye, Captain.” Zoro obliges and pounds into your g-spot again and again while leaving bruising fingerprints on your hips.

You try to keep your throat open as your feel your body being hurtled over the edge of orgasm.

“She’s cumming. I can feel it- oh fuck!” Zoro feels himself being wrapped up in the pleasure of your tight pussy milking him while you rode out your orgasm. Tears begin to fall from your lash line as you start to become overstimulated. So many hands on you, you didn’t know whose belonged to who… in your hair, on your breasts, squeezing your neck… you were in a world of pleasure. You whine.

“I’ll fill you up baby, don’t worry.. shit-” Zoro finished inside of you with one final thrust of his hips upward into your soft cunt.

“Me too, y/n.” Luffy remarks at you as he fucks your face. “Now don’t waste, it, okay? It’s good for you!” Before you could respond, Luffy shoots an impossibly large load down your waiting throat. You sputter and the rest of the cum you couldn’t swallow spills out around the sides of your mouth. Luffy pulls away from your face and wipes your lips with his pointer finger. He pushes it back inside of your mouth.

“All of it.” Your captain has a sinister glint in his eye as he smiles down at you.

You grin up at him stupidly, still coming down from your orgasm. Luffy quickly tucks himself back into his shorts and chuckles at you.

“Okay y/n, I’ve gotta train with Zoro. Maybe you should take a shower or something! Hah!” Luffy grabs your clothes by extending his rubbery arms and helps you off of Zoro’s dick and back into your garments. You had felt well rested earlier, but now you’re totally wiped.

“Maybe I should take it easy tonight, thanks Cap.” You pull your hair up into a messy bun and head over to the hatch of the crows nest to return to your bedroom.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep. I’m coming by after training.” Zoro calls at you.

“Oh? Maybe I’ll come too, hehe!” Luffy laughs.

“I certainly look forward to it, gentlemen.” You smirk as you lower yourself out of the hatch and go to freshen yourself… just in case round 2 was in your future.

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