#and I fucking need it to finally start feeling alright

[the-californicationist]

What would your fave position to be in with the 141, either individually or together... asking for a friend... <3

Mmm. Well. If it were me, personally?

(NSFW/MDNI under cut)

For Gaz, it’s gonna have to be big spoon little spoon. He’d be making us both late for work every morning, turning my hips just right so that he could slip his heavy morning wood inside. He’d start off so soft and gentle, but by the time he was stuffing himself down to the root of his huge cock, I’d wake up, feeling the wetness he’d been busy creating, nearly choking from how full I feel. My body would be rocking back and forth as he had his way with me. And when I chastise him for making me miss the train? Just placating little excuses murmured between kisses — “I’m already workin’, babes. Can’t ya feel your man? Hard at work…”

For Ghost, it’s the cowgirl to lotus to missionary pipeline. He’d start off flat on his back, demanding some face sitting or a sixty-nine situation. Then, he’d stick me right on top, egging me on — “Lemme see those fuckin’ tits bounce, love. Good girl.” Then, he’d get too bothered, unable to hold back, too hungry, too much of a control freak. So he’d sit up, wrapping his legs behind me, moving my hips with his hands and grinding me into a shaking trembling mess. Finally, when I could barely remember my own name, he’d press forward, pinning me on my back, arching over me like a shield, telling me — “Shh, shh. Tha’s alright, love. You don’t need to fuckin’ talk. Suck on my fingers like it’s my prick, yeah? Tha’s it… all the way in, there ya go.”

For Soap, it has to be legs-over-shoulders. That big Scottish cock is curved and I will be taking no notes! None. It’s bent at a cruel angle and perfectly shaped to drag his ruddy head right across my g-spot with every stroke. He’d love to press my thighs to my chest, going deeper or harder, his hands staying busy with my clit or my nipples or my mouth, always finding new buttons to push. He’d especially enjoy ripping mind-breaking orgasms from me, shoving my vibrator against my clit as he fucked me, teasing me with it and saying shit like — “Is she gonnae come again for me, bonnie? I ken there’s one more in her, and I willnae stop until I have it…”

And for my darling captain, John Price, it’s nothing but straight-up, bone-shaking, soul-rattling doggy. After a long hard day of dealing with unimaginable bullshit? I’m on all fours in the fucking foyer, face pressed into the hardwood, pussy spread open like a cheap whore, stuffed full of cock. When he sees me in that tight pair of jeans that he likes a little too much? There I am, shirt raked down below my breasts, back arching as I’m bent over the kitchen counter, his meaty palm wrapped around my neck, bruising my hips with how hard he’s rutting into me from behind. In the middle of the night, his fat prick drooling and heavy, swaying between his huge thighs? He’ll fist my hair in one hand and grope my ass with the other as he breeds me, snarling into my ear, “Filthy fuckin’ slag. Whose cunt is this? Hmm? Nuh-uh. Say my real name…” And he won’t come until I call him Daddy.

But all together? Preferably a perfect seal: Price and Soap fighting to fit inside my pussy, Gaz stuffing himself deep in my ass, and Ghost filling up my throat!

What about you, anon?? Got any favorites?

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

An Arranged Marriage, part 24

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23

1.2k words

Things may have not gone to plan, but you finally felt close to Zen.

(I am feral over my own character, ask box is always open for talking about my writing or just monster fucking in general!)

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A warm fire crackled in the hearth as you sat on Zen’s lap, both still naked. He was warming up the food he had brought home for dinner and you did not want to separate from him when he had gotten up from the bed. You cuddled against his chest while he reached around you to place everything at the edges of the hearth to warm up.

“Aren’t you cold just sitting on the floor?” you asked.

“Not with the hearth lit, and you are keeping me warm” he gave you a quick nuzzle.

A new layer of comfort had settled between the two of you, no barriers remained. Things did not exactly go as planned, but that hardly mattered now. All that remained now was room to grow.

Zen handed you food as it was ready, minced meat and vegetables wrapped in some sort of pastry, while he hummed his usual song.

“You got home early today” you pointed out to him.

“Bira came by and told me I needed to go home and check on something.”

“And you still stopped for food on the way home?”

“It did not seem like an emergency and we still need to eat” he shrugged.

You could not help but laugh a bit. Both Bira and Ba’tual had pointed out a few times that Zen used to skip meals most days, too caught up in everything else to take care of himself. It was not that he looked scrawny or anything when you first met, but now that he was eating well and sleeping through the night he sure did look a lot healthier.

He kept an arm wrapped around you to hold you close while he ate too, which was cozy, though you did have a complaint.

“You’re getting crumbs in my hair” you said and tried to brush them off.

“And I will help you get them out after too” he said.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence at the hearth for a while, Zen’s tusks tapped against the sides of your head while he tried to kiss the top of your head. With the sun starting to set the familiar chill started to set in.

“How about I run a hot bath for us?” Zen offered as if reading your mind.

You nodded against his chest and let him pick you up. Even from this awkward angle with you siting on his lap he lifted you with ease.

The warm water of the bath felt good against your cool skin while Zen washed your hair, getting the crumbs out as promised. Between the feeling of him purring while you leaned back against his chest and him playing with your hair you could have easily fallen asleep like that.

“You look comfortable” Zen said.

“I am” you answered.

“I like that, I like that you are comfortable here and around me” he said as he helped rinse the shampoo from your hair.

“Did you ever plan on getting married, like in general?” you asked.

“I have planned on very few things in my life, things just happen and I pray that they work out.”

“Like this?”

“Like this” he repeated, “And I am very happy things are working out. But you expected to marry, right?”

“I did, and when I was little my family did come to an agreement with another family that if their son could make a name for himself and climb the ranks in the royal navy I would be promised to him.”

“And you were alright with that?”

“It’s just life. He’s from a good family so it would have been a good match” you shrugged.

“Am I a good match?”

You had not put much thought into it truthfully, no more thought than that you were marrying someone who was not human. “Well, you’re a representative on the king’s council and the avatar of a god, so technically I might have married above my station.”

“And that is a good thing?” he asked cautiously.

“Technically this is a very good marriage for me.”

“Technically?”

“Yes, in theory this is a good marriage for me because I married up. But honestly you’re just a really good husband Zen.”

He wrapped his arms around you tightly and pulled you as close as he could without crushing you, “I am trying to be” he said against the side of your head.

You stayed entwined in the tub until the water started to cool. Zen got out first to dry off and relight the hearth to make sure the main room was warm enough for you before coming back to help you out of the tub and dry off.

He tucked into bed, pulling the covered over you both and then pulled you on top of his chest. His hands were warm on the bare skin of your back while he absentmindedly rubbed your back and occasionally nuzzled his jaw against the top of your head.

It was always just calm being with him. Zen was never in a hurry with anything, well except for earlier. Earlier when he could not keep his hands off of you. Earlier when he eagerly undressed you. When he pressed against you and grinded against you. How direct and needy he was.

You leaned up to kiss his neck and he happily tilted his head to the side to let you reach better. His pulse was strong just under his skin and soft against your lip. By the time you had reached to nip along his jaw he softly moaning and his hands had traveled down from your back down to your hips so he could really pull you close.

“And what are you up to my lovely wife?” he asked and you could feel the vibrations from his purring.

You did not answer, but instead reached up to pull his hair, making him bare more of his throat to you.

“You are so pushy for such a little thing, I like it” he chuckled.

At this point you were straddling his chest with how far up you had scooted to reach him. The vibrations from his purring were going straight to your clit and only encourage you to grind against him. You had been so ready earlier, so wet and excited to feel his thick cock fill you now that you were ready. It had been so disappointing when you had to stop that afternoon, the first few inches had felt incredible before he got to be too much.

“Are we picking back up from earlier then?” he asked.

“I want you” was all you could manage.

He tilted your face up so you could see him and gave you such a smirk, “Good, because all I have been able to think about for the last few hours was you riding me until you scream my name and then claiming you properly.”

His words made your cunt clench around nothing, a fire lit in your belly at the thought of him claiming you.

“Get on your back” he panted in your ear, “I am going to make sure that you are ready for me this time.”

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Tag list

@blushycadaver @hazyspacefairy @littlelovebug98 @tufflepuff23 @graveblanketgreen @lets-imagineastory @emonatural191 @lovingbadguys @after-laughter-come-tears @plathsotherib @krayziee @zaqnette @mochalyluv @nogoatsnoglori (doesn’t want to let me tag mocha or nogoats)

[sayyestoheav3nn]

Nights Like This Short: Late Night Thoughts

Roman x black!oc

Warnings: language, smut

Word count: 1.1k

a/n: if you would like to added to the tag list, or if i tagged you and it didn’t work, please feel free to let me know 🤍

Three weeks.

Roman hadn’t seen Zoe for three weeks since they first spoke. After his win he had decided to take some time off, and although he found his time away peaceful, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

This was definitely new for Roman, and truth be told it wasn’t something he was used to.

Sure he’s fucked a bitch or two on the WWE roster, but never someone he has actually had any interest in. No one, and he means no one had caught his eye the way she did.

Not to mention how fucking beautiful she was. He remembered the way she stumbled whenever he stepped closer to her. Or the way his dick slightly hardened when she would look up at him with those big beautiful eyes. He loved the sound of her soft soothing voice, he could listen to her talk all day if she’d let him.

All these thoughts were running through his mind as he pulled up to the arena. As he stepped into the building and made his way through the corridors trying to find his private room, he bumped into Paul Heyman, who seemed to be waiting on him.

“Good evening my tribal chief, t-this way sir.” Roman silently followed his lead, he wasn’t exactly in the mood for talking. As he made it inside his spacious room, he signaled Paul to leave.

Roman appreciated the time to himself, he loves his wiseman, but he tends to irritate the fuck out of him when he talks his ears off.

As he went to change clothes, his steps were halted when he heard her voice in the hallway. He slowly turned around to open the door, when he stepped out the first thing he saw was her beautiful face. She started to walk towards him, he could tell she seemed hesitant at first.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” she grinned.

“You missed me sweetheart?” He smirked.

She paused for a moment, her cheeks were starting to redden. “Nah, I was just worried your wiseman was gonna have a stroke, he’s been a mess without you,” she smiled.

He laughed, “He’s a grown ass man, he’ll be alright.”

Speaking of the fucking devil. The wiseman popped out of nowhere, waddling over towards them. “T-triple H needs to speak with you m-my tribal chief.”

Roman was unamused, “I’m in the middle of something, he can wait.”

“B-but my tribal chief, it seemed v-very important.”

“It’s okay, go. Don’t want to be the reason the boss gets upset,” she offered a sympathetic smile.

Roman reluctantly nodded his head in agreement, “I’ll see you after?”

Her brows furrowed with confusion. “Don’t you usually leave right away?”

“Not if I have a reason to stay.”

She looked down with an nervous smile.

Roman walked away, as he turned the corner he immediately stopped and turned back around. He could see she was confused as to why he was jogging back towards her.

He pulled out his phone, handing it to her. “Your number, just in case I can’t find you after.”

She typed it in with no hesitation, most likely since she knew their boss was waiting.

“Thanks, see you later Zo.”

……………….

Roman got home late, he was pissed that his meetings after smackdown prevented him from seeing Zo before she left. The first thing he did when he got to his room, was take a shower and then lie down, his body was exhausted. As time passed he accepted the fact that he couldn’t fall asleep. As he was twisting and turning, his mind began to think about Zo. His thoughts became hornier as time passed. He couldn’t help but to imagine what it would be like to bend her over and fuck her till she came over and over again. His dick was getting hard just thinking about it, he imagined what her moans and screams would sound like. She’d probably be shy at first, until his dick felt too good for her to suppress her screams and moans.

As he was visualizing having her facedown on the bed while he fucked her rough and deep, he could feel his dick starting to throb. Roman pulled down his sweatpants and quickly slipped his hands in his boxers grabbing his big dick that already had a few beads of pre-cum dripping down. He spit on his hand and gently rolled his thumb over his thick mushroom head and slowly proceeded to start pulling on his shaft, his eyes were closed and his head was thrown back on the headboard.

“Fuck,” he moaned while slightly picking up the pace.

His big calloused hands worked up and down his veiny shaft, his groans were getting louder as he thought about how his dick would feel inside her soaked pussy. How she’d moan while he stretched her out, he’d probably be the biggest she’s ever had. She’d be addicted to his dick, the same way he’d be addicted to her pussy.

He imagined them switching positions with her on top of him, riding his dick allowing him to have the perfect view of her titties bouncing.

The thought of her moaning and squelching on his dick had him on the verge of coming, he started stroking faster. “Shit, just like that baby, ride this dick,” he whispered.

Roman imagined Zo whimpering and begging him to let her come again, but not yet, he wanted them to come together.

He’d guide her into a new position, missionary. A position that was once his least favorite, was now something that he wanted to do, with her. He wanted to see that beautiful face under his bulking body, unraveling for him. One hand teasing her clit, while the other gripped the headboard.

He was close, so fucking close.

Her tight pussy would grip and pull on his dick, their juices flowing together. “Go ahead baby, come for daddy,” he moaned, with his eyes were squeezed shut.

“Fuck, baby.” That was it. Roman couldn’t hold himself back any longer, he didn’t even have time to grab a rag before his cum spurt all over his stomach. He could feel it tricking down his abs.

Shit. He got up and walked to the bathroom, grabbing a rag and cleaning himself. He couldn’t remember the last time jerking off felt that good.

There was no denying that his attraction to her wasn’t going to be a phase, a small smile began to form on his face.

The tribal chief always gets what he wants, and in this moment, his number one priority was to make his fantasy a reality.

[prettyfilmz]

PHYSICAL TOUCH • JEY USO

authors note: we have officially made it to the end of the love language series. thank you all so much for the support I have gained, it really means the world to me that you all love what i write and knowing some of my favorite authors on here love it too. sorry for taking so damn long to update, school has been kicking your girl's ass and I was really finding it hard to write during it all. but alas we made it!! I decided to end this series the same way I started it...with my baby jey uso. you are in for a treat with this one as this is the longest one shot i've written in the series🤭 well, don't let me keep you too long. without further a due, happy reading my loves and once again thank you💗🎀 p.s. jey looks so sexy with his red and black gear for survivor series🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

summary: jey don't wanna be "just a friend" to you anymore.

tags: 18+ (MDNI), written with black woman in mind, friends who really like each other, smoking, fluff, jey is obsessed with you, dirty talk, unprotected sex, car sex, kissing, biting (slight), small bits of roughness, overstimulation, oral (fem receiving), daddy kink,praise, this is goofy lovey dovey shit x10000.

word count: 2.7k words

now playing: red light special - tlc

it’s midnight. the air is crisp with the cool breath of late november, cool enough to give goosebumps but still not enough to bite.  you’re sitting low in the passenger seat of jey’s sleek black charger, legs crossed and dipped in the glow of the dashboard lights.  the subtle scent of ‘black ice’ air freshener mixes well with the slow haze of smoke curling from the joint between your fingers.

jey is sitting easy in his driver’s seat, one hand draped on the wheel, the other arm resting along the back of your seat, fingers casually brushing your shoulder.  his signature chain glints in the dim light from the street lamps as they pass, the soft rumble of the car’s engine making everything feel muted, more… intimate.

you exhale a slow, lazy stream of smoke out the cracked window, watching the way the city lights smear into streaks as the charger cruises down an empty street. a gentle r&b song played low in the speakers, its lyrics matching the faint thrum of tension hanging between the two of you.

“you gon’ pass that or hold it hostage, mama?” jey’s voice cuts through the thick quiet, low and teasing, making heat spark low in your belly.

you glance at him through your lashes, lips quirking into a small smirk.  “why? you need it more than me, greedy?”

he leans over slightly, closing the gap between you, his face a little too close, soft brown eyes locked on yours.  “oh I need somethin’, alright.” his grin is sharp but playful, that familiar flirtation slipping from his lips as easy as breathing.

you roll your eyes, even though a shiver crawls down your spine.  you flick the joint between your fingers, teasing, before finally passing it to him.  his fingertips graze yours when he takes it, the brief touch buzzing through you like a shock of electricity.

the air in the car shifts, as it always does when it’s just the two of you, hovering somewhere between platonic and dangerous.  it’s always been like this for years—friends who flirt too much, share too much, maybe fuck love each other too much.  it got complicated when you started seeing someone else, tried to shut that part of you down.  but now that’s over, and things have been creeping back to where they were.  no labels, just...  whatever this is.

jey takes a slow pull from the joint, his gaze never leaving you.  his lips wrap around it just so, and you hate how your thighs press together on instinct, an action he catches easily.

he smirks as he exhales, letting the smoke drift lazily out the window.  “missed this, you know.  just me and you. you ain't gotta act all tough around me, honey.”

your heart stumbles a little at the softness in his voice, but you keep your cool, leaning back against your seat like his words didn’t hit as deep as they did.  “you're getting soft on me,” you tease, smirking.

jey chuckles in return, shaking his head as he taps ash from the joint.  “yeah, yeah. but you love that shit, don't lie." his hand slides from the back of your seat to rest on your thigh, heavy and warm, thumb brushing idly over the curve just below your skirt.  the touch is familiar, claiming, like he’s always known you’d end up right back here.

you don't attempt to move his hand. instead, you settle into the weight of it, the warmth of his large palm massaging your skin,  biting your bottom lip to hide the little smile threatening to creep across your face. he’s watching you too close, like he is reading all of your thoughts.  and maybe he is—jey’s always known how to read you well with just a look.

he leans a little closer again, voice dropping into that low, dangerous register that always gets you into trouble.  “come here.”

you glance at him, the warmth in your chest spreading fast, and you know where this is headed.  you could pretend you don’t.  you could play coy.  but you don’t want to. not with him. not tonight.

instead, you lean in, and jey meets you halfway, his lips brushing yours once, twice, before he kisses you properly.  it's slow and deliberate, a kiss that feels like a reminder—like he’s been waiting for this, waiting for you.

his hand tightens on your thigh, and you sigh against his mouth, your lips parting for him, his tongue sliding against yours, deepening the kiss until you’re clinging to the front of his hoodie, breathing him in like the smoke lingering in the car.

he pulls back just enough to press his forehead to yours, both of you catching your breath.  his hand drifts higher on your thigh, slipping beneath the hem of your skirt with ease.  “I ever tell you how bad I missed you, baby?”

you hum, tilting your head to nip gently at his bottom lip.  “maybe? it would be better if you show me. ”

jey groans low in his throat, his hand leaving your thigh to grab the back of your neck, pulling you into another kiss—hungrier this time, all teeth and tongue. his free hand grips your thigh again, fingers digging into your skin.

he breaks the kiss to drag his lips down your neck, biting gently at the spot just beneath your ear that always makes you purr.  you gasp, arching against him, and he chuckles against your skin, his voice low and wrecked.  “that’s it, mama. I got you.”

your mind is already hazy, inebriated in the way his hands and mouth paint your body like a canvas, but it’s just the foreplay.  his fingers trail higher, brushing the edge of your panties, and you shiver, your breath stuttering out in a soft moan.

“you want this?” he murmurs against your neck, his thumb slipping beneath the damp fabric to tease you.  “words, baby.”

“yeah,” you breathe, barely able to form the word.  “please, jey.”

he grins against your skin, kissing you again as his fingers slip between your thighs, parting your lower lips easily. he groans softly at how wet you are, dragging his fingers through your slick folds with a slow, deliberate touch that makes your head fall back against the seat.

“look at you,” he mutters, voice thick with praise.  “so fuckin’ wet for me and I ain’ even taste her yet.”

you whimper, hips bucking against his hand, and he chuckles low in his throat, loving how desperate you are for him.

“you gon’ let me taste her, mama?” he asks, already pulling back enough to maneuver between your legs, carefully leaning over the gear shift so he’s fully in your space.

you don’t even have time to respond before he’s tugging your skirt and panties down, throwing them carelessly into the back seat.  his hands are on your thighs, spreading you wide, your pussy exposed, and glistening for his eyes only.

jey doesn’t hesitate. he dives in, tongue skillfully dragging through your silky folds with a hunger that leaves you breathless, thighs trembling. he eats you like your pussy is the lifeline that is keeping him alive, switching between sucking your clit and fucking your tight quivering hole with his tongue, the sounds are lewd and obscene which only heightens the pleasure for you two.

“s-hit,” you moan, fingers tangling in his hair as your hips grind your cunt against his mouth. he groans in response, the vibration of it making you cry out, the pressure building fast and sharp between your thighs.

“that's it sweetheart,” he murmurs between licks, his voice dripping with praise.  “you taste so sweet, baby. missed this pussy so much.”

you’re close—so close you can feel the knot tightening in your abdomen. your thighs clamp around his head, sputtering expletives and jey doesn’t let up, gripping your hips to keep you right where he wants you.

“come on, mama,” he urges, voice rough and low against you. “make a mess on me.”

that’s all it takes. your orgasm crashes over you, and you cry, back arching as you ride the wave of pleasure, jey holding you through it, his tongue relentless against your clit until you’re shaking, begging him to stop.

but he doesn’t.  he grins up at you, wicked and smug, and keeps going, sending you spiraling into another orgasm before you can even catch your breath.

“j-jey! w..wa-ait” you gasp, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as your body shakes with overstimulation.

“shhh, I got you,” he soothes, but his grin says otherwise—more like he loves seeing you fall apart for him, that he’s the only one who can make you feel like this.

and when he finally pulls back, lips and beard glistening with your juices, he leans in close, brushing his mouth against yours.

“you good, baby?” he asks, soft and playful, like he wasn’t worshipping you in between your thighs moments earlier.

all you could do is nod, breathless, and he kisses you again, allowing you to taste the sweet tanginess of yourself on his lips and tongue.

jey pulls back from the kiss, eyes heavy-lidded, but that cocky  grin of his never fades. he leans back in the driver’s seat, hands casually resting on the curve of your thighs, spreading them just enough to tease you with his gaze.  the warmth of your release is still causing your pussy to throb, but it’s not enough to fully satiate your lust. and with the way jey is gazes at you, he knows it too.

“come here, mama," jey murmurs, giving your thigh a quick slap. 

with a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, you shift over the console and climb into his lap.  you’re grateful for the roomy interior of the charger as you straddle him, thighs bracketing his hips.  he leans back, hands already roaming up your waist, under your top, squeezing at the soft globes of your breasts like he’s trying to memorize the feel of you.

“you comfy, baby?” he teases, palms pressing into your ass, grinding your bare pussy down against the thick bulge in his sweats. the friction makes both of you groan, and you can’t help the way your body moves on its own, rolling your hips against him.

jey bites his bottom lip, eyes locked on where you grind against him, the wet drag of your pussy staining the fabric of his sweats.  “fuck," he mutters, head falling back against the seat.  “you gon’ ride me just like that?  huh, baby?  make a mess all over me?"

you grin, the pressured heat between your legs building again.  “you always did like it messy.”

his fingers dig into your hips as he presses himself up against you, just enough to make you gasp.  “you know I like you,” he says, voice rough.  “always did."

the words hit you deep—more than they should—and for a second, the weight of them hangs in the air between you.  but you’re not here to talk about feelings, and jey knows it too.

he shifts under you, hand slipping down to stroke himself through his sweats.  “c’mon, baby.  take care of daddy.”

you slide a hand between your bodies, finding the waistband of his sweats and boxers, tugging them down just enough to free him. his cock springs free, thick and already leaking precum, and the sight of it causes you to slightly drool.  you wrap your fingers around him, stroking slowly, teasing, loving the way his breath stutters beneath you.

“damn, mama,” he groans, his grip tightening on your hips.  “you tryna kill me?”

you smile mischievously.  “maybe.” but you don’t play around with him—this isn’t about teasing, not tonight.

you lift yourself up, lining him up with your entrance, and he watches you with brown, half-lidded eyes, pink lips parted as he waits for you to sink down on him.  and when you do, the pleasurable stretch steals both of your breaths.

“fuck, baby,” jey groans, hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as you take him inch by inch, slow and deliberate.  “that’s it...fuckin' perfect. you always take me so good, mama."

the praise hits you like a drug, making you moan as you bottom out, his cock buried deep inside you. you pause for a moment, adjusting to the stretch, and jey's hands roam your body like he can’t get enough of you—palming your ass, squeezing your waist, his thumbs brushing the curve of your breasts under your top.

“look at you," he murmurs, voice thick and filled with something dangerously close to awe. “this pussy was made just for me, huh?"

you roll your hips, slow and deliberate, grinding down on him until he curses under his breath, head falling back against the seat again.  “uh huh,” you whisper, leaning in close to kiss behind his ear, sucking on the lobe.  “all yours, daddy.”

the growl that rumbles from his chest is damn near primal. his hands grip your hips hard, guiding you into a rhythm that’s slow and heavenly, each roll of your hips dragging him deeper into you. the air between you is thick with heat, every breath shared, every moan swallowed by the other’s mouth as you kiss again, messy and uncoordinated.

“that’s it, baby," he groans, breaking the kiss to suck a mark into your neck.  “fuck yourself on me. just like that. good fucking girl.”

you gasp as his teeth graze your skin, the sharp sensation shooting straight to your swollen clit. as if he can read your body, his hand slips between your bodies, thumb finding your clit with expert precision, circling it in time with the roll of your hips.

“cum for me again, mama,” he murmurs, voice low and coaxing.  “lemme feel you cum on this dick.”

you can’t hold back—not with the way he’s filling you so perfectly, not with the way his thumb works your clit like it’s second nature, and certainly not with how the head of his cock presses deliciously against your g spot. your orgasm hits you fast and hard, your whole body tensing as you cry out, nails digging into his shoulders as you gush all over him.

“that’s my good girl," jey groans, grinding up into you as your warm gummy walls clamp down around him.  “makin’ a mess all over this dick.”

you’re still trembling from the aftershocks of your climax when jey’s grip on your hips tightens, and suddenly he’s fucking up into you, chasing his own release with rough, desperate thrusts causing you to whine.

“uh uh, take it, baby,” he growls through gritted teeth, hands locked on your hips as he drives into you, relishing in your choked sobs.  “gon' fill this pussy up.  you want that, honey? want me to cum in daddy’s pussy?”

“y-yessss,” you mewl, head burying itself in his neck as you grind against him, every nerve in your body on fire.  “please, daddy. cum in me please.”

the sound he makes is beautiful as he slams into you one last time, his hips stuttering as he spills his warm thick load into you, flooding your womb with his seed.

“shit,” he mutters, chest heaving, forehead falling to rest against your shoulder as you both catch your breath.

for a moment, the only sound in the car besides a song playing on low volume is the harsh rhythm of your breathing, the scent of sweat and sex mingling with the lingering haze of smoke.

you stay like that for a while, tangled together, your body still humming from the high of it all. jey’s hands roam lazily over your back, soothing, grounding, bringing you back down to earth and you can’t help but melt into him a little more.

eventually, he presses a lazy kiss to your shoulder, grinning against your skin.  “told you I missed you girl.”

you laugh, breathless and light, brushing a hand through his hair.  “you’re so dumb.”

jey leans back just enough to look at you, his grin wide and boyish, the mischievous glint in his eye making your heart skip.  “yeah, but you love my dumbass.”

and damn it, he’s right.

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[takumiraine]

Once Upon a Time chapter 9

Danny is still going through it, but it gets better I promise.

Taku note: jesus fuck putting the links in on these ones was a beast. I actually had to LOG IN to tumblr on my COMPUTER. ick.

<first> <prev> <next>

There is some texting abbreviations here. The abbreviations are: B, meaning Bruce, obviously. It is saved as just ‘B’ in his phone. R, meaning Replacement which is Tim. Tim is saved as Replacement. DB is Damian, saved as Demon Brat. D, is Dick, and is just saved as an eggplant emoji in Jason’s phone. This may or may not be relevant later.

—-

Okay. Okay. He needs a plan. He needs to think and form a plan. He needs a computer. He grabs a notebook. Scrambles around his upturned apartment until he finds a pen. Starts writing equations. The equations will solve to binary numbers. Each one a different letter. His brain is humming. He double checks his work. Triple checks it. Tears the page out.

Checks the work again.

He grabs a bit of his remaining cash. Climbs out onto his fire escape. Phases his hand through the glass to carefully reset the trap.

Move on silent feet, sticking to shadows. Hoodie on and hood over his head. Silent and fast. Alert. Find an Internet cafe. Buy an hour of computer time. Log onto the conspiracy site. Send a new private message.

Carefully type in the equations with shaking hands. Time ticks by so slowly and yet so fast. Equations come back to him. Solve. Translate. Read. Send more back. More frantic than before. They have to run. They have to hide. They cannot come here.

He received a picture of a chocolate bar in return.

They’re coming here. They’re coming. They’re coming and Danny can’t stop it. Can’t stop any of it.

He deletes the messages. Logs out of the website. Clears the history. Takes the paper. Leaves the building. Burns the paper to ash.

Hears a van. Pulls his hood further down over his head. Has to get to the observatory. That was the agreed upon meeting place. Has to get there. Has to hide.

Has to find a way to keep them safe. He’s out of practice. He doesn’t have the upper hand. He’s so scared. Scared for his friends. He gets to the observatory. It’s dark in there. Locked. Danny finds a ladder. Climbs. On the roof. The dome is solid. Cold. Damp. He sits in the shadow of the lens. He waits.

Time moved. Time stood still. Heavy cloud cover meant he couldn’t watch the passage of time in the moon and stars. That was Gotham. Last clear night or day was a long time ago. Danny couldn’t breathe.

Loud footsteps. He pressed himself deeper into the shadows.

“D…?” The voice was familiar. Danny peered out into the darkness, and saw two familiar faces.

“Tuck… Sam…” he croaked, voice raw like he had just spent hours Wailing.

“Hey Danny, good to see you.” Sam sat beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. The Fenton Creep Stick laid across her lap. Tucker came to join them, sitting on his other side and rifling around in his backpack. Before Danny could process it, a couple high protein granola bars and a bottle of strawberry pedialyte was put on his lap.

“Eat. Panicking burns calories and you need them.” Tucker insisted, nudging him gently. Already Danny felt the panic subsiding, leaving him exhausted. He ate the protein bars mechanically, forcing himself to focus on the taste and the feel of them between his teeth. He needed the nutrients desperately. After the protein bars were eaten, Danny chilled the bottle of strawberry drink and popped the cap off, chugging it.

“Alright. Now that you’re sort of fed and hydrated, breathe. You know I love the whole dead vibe as much as the next girl, but you’re still half human.” Sam rubbed his leg with her free hand and Tucker rubbed his back. It was soothing and almost involuntarily he took a deep breath in and out, then another, and another. He felt his mind settle. When he could finally think clearly again, he pulled them both close in a hug.

“Ancients, I’ve missed you guys…”

“Us too man. Us too,” Tucker agreed, squeezing Danny back just as tightly.

“Now, not to turn you back onto a doom spiral, but what the hell happened?” Sam asked once they pulled back from the embrace.

“Well, it’s kind of a long story. But I’ll tell you everything.” And Danny did. He started with getting enrolled in school, which they knew, because Tucker helped. Then with the cute guy that befriended him out of nowhere, and although he kept the name to himself, Sam clocked his crush almost immediately.

“It’s okay Danny, I have a radar for that. You were in love with me for how many years now?” She teased. “I am now able to spot a Danny-crush from a hundred yards.”

Tucker laughed with her and Danny groaned putting his head back in his hands. “I hate you so much sometimes…” he moaned.

“Yeah we love you too buddy.” Tucker patted him again. “Keep going with the story.”

He did. The tutoring, the meetings with red hood, and then finally, the week before and that evening. Again he left out the fact that he recognized Hood’s real identity. Sam and Tucker wouldn’t tell, but he couldn’t out another hero in good conscience. Even if they were fighting.

“Shit man.” Tucker scooted himself closer, while Sam did the same on his other side. “That was…”

“I’d rather fight Skulker and Technus together without my powers or a thermos…” he mumbled, pulling his knees to his chest and pressing his face into them.

“Okay. So here’s what we’re going to do. Tucker is going to make sure none of his trip lines have been tripped, I’m gonna make sure no creeps sneak up on us here. You’re gonna take a nap. You look like you’re about ready to drop dead again.” Danny nodded into his knees, and Tucker got out his pda and got to work.

Slowly, Danny’s breathing evened and slowed then stopped almost completely. Having his friends nearby meant he was safe. Safety meant sleep.

Jason was out looking. He started at Danny’s apartment, but he wasn’t answering, there was no sound of movement, the thermals were all ambient, so he moved on.

The longer he looked the more he realized, he barely knew anything about Danny. Danny was great at hedging around questions about himself. Turning the conversation back to Jason, or topics that were safe. The weather, the best places to get burgers, the best type of tree to climb, the best dangerous animal to be freed from the zoo. That last topic was courtesy of Damian but…

Then Jason remembered. They had been eating outside after dark. Danny had looked up at the sky and sighed, then pointed fries accusingly at Jason. “Your dad is like, richer than anyone else here right? He should really do something about all this smog. Seeing the stars at night is one of life’s great pleasures.”

“You could go to the observatory,” Jason had suggested, fairly used to Danny occasionally having ideas for Bruce’s money without any real interest in using it for himself. Always for the betterment of the city as a whole.

“That’s a last resort option. Nothing beats constellation spotting laying on a rooftop. You should be able to see Orion’s Belt over….” Danny looked up at the sky, head shifting as he oriented himself to north and then pointing “over there, somewhere.”

“Well, I’ll bring it up and see what WE has in the works for ecological initiatives.” Jason had said, taken in by how certain Danny was. He could have been bullshitting Jason, but sure enough when he looked it up later, Danny had the right idea, even if he was a few degrees off in his estimation.

Not having any better idea, Jason sped off towards the observatory.

Danny had been asleep for maybe an hour when the motorcycle was heard pulling up. Tucker turned off his modified PDA, the backlight in the screen would have given them away in a heartbeat.

Once the motorcycle turned off though, Sam woke up Danny. He woke with a silent start, looking around to see what had alarmed his friends. When he felt the familiar press of another halfa’s core he pressed a hand to each of their knees and wrote a small smiley face on them. Danny did not miss the way Sam’s grip on the creep stick tightened.

Jason didn’t immediately think anything of the observatory as he circled it. There were two hot spots on the roof that were likely just horny teenagers. He would make his loop and then head off. At least, that was the plan until he spotted the ice cold person shape between the two warmer ones.

Nobody ran that cold except Danny.

Jason stood at the base of the ladder and considered his options. He didn’t know who Danny was up there with. He didn’t know if Danny was in danger. Though the pit in him wasn’t any more riled up than it normally was. He didn’t know if Danny would throw his ass right off the roof. There wasn’t anything around here for him to grapnel onto if he was.

‘I did not know your trip into the pit made you a coward, Todd’ he could hear Damian taunt in his head.

Shaking the thought of his brother off, Jason climbed the ladder. The moment his helmet popped over the roof Danny’s eyes were fixed on him. “Go away J-Hood.”

Jason was momentarily surprised, Danny had obviously not expected him to come in costume, but corrected himself fairly flawlessly. Not outing him to the two people who were holding him protectively. Must be Sam and Tucker.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Are these your friends?” He asked, not moving any further up the ladder. Danny nodded, continuing to glare over his knees.

“Sam and Tucker. They knew me… before everything else.”

Jason nodded. Climbed up enough to get a good look. “I have a safe house nearby. Can we go there and talk?”

“Is more of your little guano group” Sam snickered at the name and Tucker gave Danny a fist bump, “going to hunt me down if I don’t?”

“No. But you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

Danny looked between his friends for a minute, before slowly uncurling and standing, helping his friends up. “Fine.”

Once they were all on the ground they walked to the safe house, a couple blocks away. Once they were inside, Jason pulled off the helmet.

“Jason Todd. Also known as Red Hood.”

He noticed Sam give Danny a look, and he made a face back at her. Tucker rolled his eyes. “You talk to the Bat?” Danny asked, rather than confront his friend.

“Yeah. But that’s not the important part. After we talked tonight Oracle noticed something. The firewall was an automatic scoop. Anything related to your parents’….hobby got thrown into a…. Technological bucket. It’s why your messages never made it to the League.”

Danny took a step back, and Sam and Tucker automatically moved closer, supporting him. “You…. Heard the messages?”

“There was video too. Of… an attack.”

“Of course those assholes were filming it.” Sam tightened her grip on the creep stick as she spoke. Danny raised a shaking hand to his face, feeling for something. His eyes had gone unfocused.

Damn it. Jason took a step forward and Danny flinched, the air going cold. “Easy D.” Tucker soothed. “You’re in Gotham. We’re gonna go sit.” Sam and Tucker bullied Danny to the couch. Tucker sat next to him, while Sam stood in front of them protectively. When she caught Jason trying to look around her she snapped to get his attention.

“Hey, Danny needs some water. About 35 degrees if you have it that cold, cold as you have otherwise.” The snapping and hyper specific orders placed her in his memory. Samantha Manson. Daughter of the Amity Mansons. They attended a few Galas when she was younger. She was very insistent on her veganism even then.

Jason wasn’t about to argue with a woman holding a bat. If Sam was anything like his brothers, she knew how to use it even before the vigilante training.

He brought Danny water, tap with a couple of ice cubes, and passed it to Tucker, who was still talking quietly to Danny. Danny was nodding and occasionally giving a thin half smile, but was able to hold the glass on his own and sip from it.

“We need a plan.” Danny said after he finished drinking.

“Batman wants to talk to you.” Jason told him, which got Danny opening his mouth to protest.

“First,” Sam interrupted, looking at Danny then at Jason, “Tucker is going to do his checks, Danny is going to sleep, and we are going to wait.”

“I don’t need to sleep.” Danny crossed his arms, protesting.

“And Dash didn’t shove you in a locker at least once a week.” Tucker’s response was combined with an eye roll. “You look like you just went a dozen rounds with Skulker without your powers. You need pizza rolls and a nap.”

“You make me sound like I’m a kindergartener.”

“I think I have pizza rolls.” Jason interrupted the protest. “I’ll kill the lights, make the brat’s pizza rolls for you and you just lay there until they’re done.”

Danny scowled at Jason for hanging up on him but as Tucker slid off the couch onto the floor in front of him, Danny obediently laid down. As Jason pulled the bag out of the freezer and started the oven heating, he watched Danny’s breathing slow down and even out, then stop altogether.

Sam followed his gaze and took Danny’s sleeping form in quickly before peering at what Tucker was doing. Seeing that the people Danny knew the longest weren’t concerned about his lack of visible breathing, Jason settled a bit, texting the family chat.

From J: so I found Danny. But he has backup now. He managed to get in contact with his friends.

From B: Are you on your way?

From J: no. He was freaking out. Right now he’s asleep on the couch and I’m making pizza rolls.

From DB: Excuse me zombie child, those happen to be mine.

From J: Better learn to share now before you learn the hard way like Dickie, Timber and I did.

From B: Jason, please.

From J: what? It’s not a lie. He’s the fourth Robin that we know about.

From DB: I am the best. I will not be replaced.

From R: idk Dami, the new kid has black hair, blue eyes and a troubled past. He’s adoption bait. Hopefully he didn’t lie about his age and really is older than you.

From D: it’s never easy having to hand over the spandex and cape to a younger more dangerous Robin.

From DB: So you admit that I am the best.

From D: no I said you were younger and more dangerous than we were as Robin. Except for maybe Jay. He liked to bite criminals.

From J: hey! They were the idiots who put their hands near my face. I grew up hungry. You eat what you can.

From B: Before this gets more out of hand, Jason, do you know about when you will be arriving?

From J: probably going to leave here in 45 minutes to an hour. I will let you know.

Jason was going to take his time cooking those pizza rolls correctly. He wasn’t going to let them ooze out everywhere, then they would have to cool so when Danny inevitably wolfed them down he wouldn’t scorch his mouth. Allow for some wake up time…

Jason was completely, and understandably in his opinion, giving Danny as much time before the meet the family scene happened. The guy had been through enough.

[touchme-teezme]

hi mimi! idk if u take requests but last pick was everything to me like i lovedddd the book that inspired you 😭🥹 can i PLEASE get a san version with the “did you want to watch me burn” poem? just destroy me. my heart is yourssss

This Time.

PAIRING | collegeboy!san x fab!reader

TAGS | arguments, smut with a plot, kissing, oral, angsty unprotected breakup sex, san has great pull out game, and a (sort of?) cliffhanger… again? idk i suck at writing tags and proper endings lolololol

RATINGS | NSFW 18+ (minors pls DNI/if it makes u uncomfortable don’t read it)

SONGS | No One Noticed - The Marías, Not You Too- Dr*ke & Been Like This - Doja Cat

SUMMARY | The breakup for this couple was on the horizon. One of them was in denial, and it’s not you.

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ thank you all for showing Last Pick a lot of love & anon for enjoying it. since a san version was requested, here ya go :) lmk which member should be next if you'd want me to actually make this into an angsty atz smut series. kinda like the idea they’re all connected?¿ like a smutiverse… im a little tipsy rn writing this part. also if u catch mistakes, no u didn’t. kk bye love uou

inspired by a quote from Save Me An Orange by Hayley Grace: what more did you want from me? i gave you my heart my soul my body i let you build a home inside of me but you still went to the store and bought a lighter just to set me on fire did you want to watch me burn?

You’re usually an optimist but it wasn’t until San smashed the vase you bought and painted together at that one arts and crafts store that you realized optimism could only take you so far.

A screaming match broke out immediately. Words bounced off the walls, echoing in your small apartment as fingers were being pointed. He followed you around the entire house as you tried to walk away from the conversation, pinging in your ear like a fly.

San gets emotional when he cares. It was the first thing you liked about him when you first started to talk. How nice would it be to be with someone so well in-tune with their emotions that they don’t why away from it?

If only you’d known it would result in this.

The relationship was done for. It had been for a while. He had been far too busy juggling classes, work, and his new friends who seemed to suddenly fill all the time he used to spend with you. You’d barely even seen him in weeks, and when you did, it was like you were fighting for scraps of his attention.

San’s voice cracked as he shouted behind your head. “You think I don’t know I’ve been busy? I’ve been juggling everything, trying to keep it all together, and you—you—think I don’t feel guilty? You want me to just drop everything? Stop hanging out with my friends? Quit school? What do you want from me?”

He was following you now, not letting you get a moment of peace. You forced yourself to focus on the task of cleaning up the shards, trying to block out his words as you looked for the broom around your house.

“Do you think I want this? You think I want to feel like this? You think I want to hurt you? But you keep demanding more from me, and I can’t do it anymore! I can’t just stop living my life to fix yours!”

“Oh fuck off!” You barked back, finally finding the broom that was in an odd spot in your wardrobe (probably because San had placed it there the last time he used it). You were now growing more annoyed.

“Don’t curse at me! Listen to me for goodness sake!”

Your hands trembled around the broom handle, but you marched towards the vase shards and started sweeping, trying not to hear the poison dripping from his mouth. You had given up on fighting—there was no point anymore. He was too far gone, wrapped up in his own world that was so difficult for him to show up.

“You’re too much, alright?” he spat, his voice cracking with frustration. “I can’t breathe, I can’t think. Every time I try to focus on something else, you’re right there, needing something from me. I can’t fix this. I can’t keep being suffocated—“

You dropped the broom.

You turned slowly, meeting his gaze for the first time, and in that moment, you never felt like this about him before.

“Do you hear yourself?” Your voice was shaking, but it was steady, sharp. “In that whole rant you just forced me to hear, not once did you mention us—not once did you mention me like i’m not in this fucking relationship with you! Not once did you mention all i’ve done for you, and the only time you did was to insult me!”

San opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He just stood there, eyes wide, lips trembling.

You stepped forward as if to challenge his speechlessness, your heart pounding in your chest. “What the fuck are you still doing here then?!”

The room fell silent.

And then, out of nowhere, he tried to reach for you.

It was a movement fuelled by panic if he was truly honest, it was a final desperate attempt to fix things without actually knowing how.

He just knew that he had to have you in his arms and you’d melt. His hand caught yours, pulling you closer, but you yanked it away.

He stepped closer, his breath ragged, reaching for you again with a look in his eyes that was pure guilt you knew all too well.

Your stern face broke when he managed to get you in his large strong arms that wrapped around you.

You stood there, shaking, breathing hard, barely able to hold back the tears.

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” Your cracking voice was muffled against his hard chest.

And then, in his painful silence, he cupped your face and pressed his lips against yours.

You did not stop him.

In fact, you couldn’t.

His next kiss was more desperate and frantic than the last, like he was trying to compensate for all the times he had utterly let you down.

When he finally found the self control to pull back, both of you were panting, faces flushed, hearts racing. He looked at you with a mix of fear, guilt, and longing in his eyes. He wiped your damp cheeks, cupping the sides of your face.

"I don’t mean to," He whispered. “I-I swear, everything I said, I-“

You shook your head in denial, wanting to just shut him up with more kisses knowing if you both talked, you’d eventually argue.

For once, you didn’t want to fight. If the relationship was crashing and burning right now, might as well get one last lick out of it, right?

Metaphorically, and quite literally.

San groaned softly into your mouth, his hands coming up to tangle in your hair and snake to the small of your back as he deepened the kiss with his tongue.

"You drive me insane," He breathed against her lips, breaking the kiss to look into her eyes.

It was true, you always had, in the best and worst ways possible. The feeling was mutual as you stared back at him.

He couldn't resist your pull, the way you were in the moment consumed him entirely. His hands roamed your curves, and reached down to grip your ass firmly as he walked you backwards towards the couch.

You let out a soft gasp, your fingers digging into his waist as you let yourself get sat down with him positioned above you. His knee perched up right between your slightly parted legs.

The friction his knee brushing between your legs sent a jolt of desire straight to your core. He could feel your pulse quickening, and your breath hitching as he sucked and kissed the sides of your neck.

Your hands slipped beneath his black shirt, seeking for skin. With a slight eager tug, he took it off without any argument, revealing his lean muscled torso that you did not hesitate to touch and admire knowing it was going to be the last time.

Instead of letting that knowledge crush you or him, with a low moan, he just leaned into your touch.

“Tell me to stop…” He breathed out, hands on your shoulders to steady himself. He struggled to maintain control as his arousal throbbed against the inside of his zipper.

“Keep going.” You replied in a husky whisper.

With a groan, he gave in to the temptation. His tongue met yours, as his hands slid down to your chest to cup your breasts through the thin fabric of your top, having to bite back a smirk when your back arched into his technique.

Your nimble fingers freed him from his jeans. Unbuttoning, and then zipping down before massaging his hard on through the fabric of his underwear. A breath of relief escaped his lips when his throbbing cock was finally freed.

He helped you out of your top, watching you stroke his impressive length in your hands from above. His hands glided down your back and unclasped your bra, letting your breast sit in all its glory.

He was going to take care of you first until your mouth engulfed him without missing a beat.

“O-oh my god.” His hips bucked involuntarily forward as your skilled hand continued to stroke, the dual sensations of her and her fingers wrapped around his member threatening to overwhelm him.

San’s eyes rolled back as you took him entirely into your mouth. His body weight leaning on his forearms that were on either sides of your head, holding onto the back of the couch for dear life.

Your skilled tongue and throat working in tandem to bring him to the brink of madness. The wet heat blanketing his aching cock was almost too much to bear, each bob of her head sent him more and more over the edge.

"Oh f-fuck!” His mouth hung open as he fisted your hair and fought the urge to thrust deeper.

A part of him couldn’t make sense why this was happening now of all times. He could’ve just taken your desperation to touch him for granted but something about it didn’t feel right.

With effort and a hell lot of focus, San gently stopped you before he could cum. He stroked the side of your face when you looked up at him confused. He shot one of the sweetest dimpled smiles at you.

Seeing that dimpled smile light up your face.

With a hand behind your head, he laid you back on the couch gently. Your hands politely stayed on your own chest, cupping them as you watched his next move.

In one swift motion, he tugged down your underwear with your pyjama shorts and tossed them away.

One of your legs get thrown over his shoulder, and he used his other hand to part your leg wider. His head moved down to your glistening sex and his tongue licked a strip up your folds.

Air got caught in your throat. You let out a shaking deep breath through your lips. His hand on your thigh moved up to your chest, intertwining his fingers with your fingers against your racing heartbeat.

You gripped onto his fingers every time he’d do something that sent shockwaves through your body either with his lips, tongue or his nose. He kissed your sensitive clit, alternating his tongue between that and pounding into your entrance.

“San,” You whined, which only encouraged him to keep going. You tilted your chin upwards, facing the ceiling as tears began welling in your eyes. Unclear if it was the pleasure or the sinking feeling in the out of your stomach.

Then you felt that body shock again, jolting you as you let out a loud moan.

You met his eyes. Those cat-like eyes staring back at you between your legs with laser focus before lazily shutting when he turned his head to the side to lap up your slick arousal from the inner part of your thighs.

He got up and took off his underwear before hovering on-top of you, centring his hard shaft just past your entrance as he supported himself up by the armrest behind your head.

His chain necklace to drop down and dangle in your face.

He gazed into your eyes, reaching down to rub your slick folds once more. He leaned down to kiss you, tasting yourself on his lips as he readjusted his hard dick between your legs. Your hands wrapped themselves in the dip of his waist as your knees pressed against his hips.

“We can’t keep fighting forever,” You told him in a faint whisper.

Leaning down, he distracted you by capturing your lips into a tender loving kiss to slowly pushed in. He felt your teeth on his lip as your walls adjusted to him.

“I know.” Was all he could murmur against your face as a hand cupped one side of your face.

He kept having your lips in between his as he started to move, his hips rolling in a slow rhythm designed to slowly ease into you. Small gasps escaped your lips and you clutched onto his biceps for support while your neck stretched upwards.

“Baby, you feel incredible.” He picked up the pace slightly, his thrusts growing deeper, and more insistent, as he chased the intense feeling coursing through him.

The way your body clenched around his length, the soft gasps falling from your lips.

With your moans of approval, he seized the opportunity to go even deeper and quicken the pace in your wet welcoming heat. He pulled in your mouth for intoxicating searing kisses he couldn’t get enough of.

“I miss you,” You whimpered out the truth between the kisses. “S-so much.”

He snapped forward with new determination accentuated by the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against each other.

He let go of your mouth to focus on your chest. "I'm right here baby." He mumbled over your breasts as he cupped one in his large hands, brushing over your nipples before reaching down to lick.

He alternates between wet kisses and whirling his tongue, aimed to only give you pleasure. In his defence, he hasn't had the opportunity to do this in a while.

You grabbed a side of his face to look into his lustful eyes. “I really did love you.” You breathed out.

“I love you too.” He replied, too entranced by the moment to catch that single word in your sentence.

You crashed your lips against his. The technique of his kissing made you moan loudly into his mouth, and then against his jaw with your eyes shut when he was hitting the perfect spot over and over.

Your body was tensing up tighter and tighter as the pressure of the inside you. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, ready to shatter into a million pieces at any moment.

“I’m close,” San panted. “Come for me. Come first.”

As a result of his husky words, your walls clench around him, and your climax comes crashing in. One passionate thrust as he buried himself inside your convulsing sex, the intense orgasm shook your entire body violently.

While your final convulsions faded, you slumped against the couch, panting heavily. Meanwhile, San rode off your enjoyment only to abruptly slip out of you before blowing a load inside you without a condom on.

He released himself from your legs that were wrapped around him and hurried to your nearby bathroom, his hard-on in his hands.

You lay there in a daze, trying to make sense of everything, feeling a mix of confusion and shame. You covered your face with your hands, desperate to hide from the reality of the situation.

Slowly, you pulled yourself up from the leather couch to sit up, its surface sticking a little to your sweaty skin, before you reached for your underwear lying forgotten at your feet.

You managed to get most of your clothes back on when he returned. The sight of him—his broad athletic build and that confident stride—distracted you just long enough for him to lean down and kiss you, his hands gently resting on the side of your neck.

You instinctively covered his hand with your own, locking eyes with him.

“Are you okay?” His voice was soft.

You stayed quiet for a moment, the weight of his question sinking in.

He kissed you again, his lips warm and insistent, and for a moment, the thoughts swirling in your head began to fade.

Before you knew it, he lowered himself down onto the floor across from you, wanting to pull you on top of him to straddle him.

“Stop. No more.” you murmured, pushing him away gently.

Your heart pounding as your knees pressed against the hardwood floors when you realised you were already sitting on his thighs.

San sharply sighed, a little disappointed, but he didn’t fight it. He let go of his grip on your waist, and you slowly kicked yourself off him.

The two of you lay on the floor, side by side, your breaths finally slowing after whatever that was. The silence between you wasn’t comforting in the slightest.

He reached for his underwear with his feet, slipping it on slowly, his eyes never leaving you. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was going on.

You turned your head to look at him. His eyes turned to the ceiling, his expression unreadable, distant even though he was right there.

“San,” you began softly, your voice breaking the stillness. “I think we—”

His phone buzzed, cutting through the tension, and he glanced at it with another sigh. You felt the moment slip away as he got up and fumbled for his phone left in his pants by the couch.

“It’s Mingi,” he muttered.

“San,” you tried again, your tone heavier this time, begging for his attention. But he’d already answered the call.

You stayed on the floor, your chest tightening as fragments of their conversation reached your ears.

“Dude, what? I’m in the middle of… Huh? No, I haven’t heard from her,” San said, his tone sharp but tinged with concern. “She’s been dodging everyone since that night at Yeosang’s when you wouldn’t shut up about your conquests.”

Your frown deepened as you propped yourself up on your elbows to watch him. His brows furrowed, his full attention on the call like you weren’t even there.

“Well, maybe you should go check on her then,” San said, leaning back against the couch. “What, come over? Her place or yours?”

A pause, then his expression shifted—confusion, followed by clear exasperation.

San ran a hand through his messy hair. “Fine, whatever. I’ll come over later.” He hung up, tossing the phone onto the floor like it had personally wronged him.

“Mingi needs help with something,” he said it like that was enough explanation.

You stared at him, baffled and angry, “So you’re going?”

He turned to you, guilt flashing briefly in his eyes before he looked away. “I don’t have a choice,” he said quietly.

The words hit you like a slap, but what was worse than the sting was the inevitability that this was always how it would be. You, waiting for scraps of his time, his attention. Him, running off to play hero for everyone but you.

“San,” you said, your voice trembling. “You always have a choice. You just never choose me.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” You shot back. “You couldn’t even let me finish breaking up with you before answering his call.”

“What? It’s not like that. This is serious to him—he really likes her—”

“Save it,” you cut him off, your voice sharp. “Since you’re always serious about everyone else, just go.”

He hesitated, his hand hovering near his phone. “You’re being—”

“Go,” you repeated firmly, tears welling in your eyes but your tone unwavering. “And don’t ever come back this time.”

For a moment, he looked like he wanted to defend himself, or to stay, but then he stood up. He pulled the rest of his clothes back on, grabbed his phone, and shoved it into his back pocket without a word.

He glanced at you on his way out, his gaze searching for something, anything, to make this easier. He convinced himself he’d call you tomorrow, that this wasn’t really goodbye like the other times you both have tried to end it. He didn’t realize how serious you were this time.

He walked past the shards and the broom and left. The door clicked shut behind him.

[sailorluna15]

Pitfighter vi x reader. vi is really cold at first and the whole thing is strictly physical but one time, reader tends to her wounds and she starts getting softer with her after that. Smut + angst if you don't mind.

-🍃

Thank you for being my very first request!

Let's get into it!

Pat, Pat, Pat.

Your face falls in defeat as your hands meet an empty mattress.

Why does she always do this to me? It's my fault, she always does this. I don't know why I expected different.

Vi always did this to you. Fucking you, using you for comfort, leaving you alone in the morning, and then acting like nothing ever happened. You thought you would get used to it, but you never do. Everyone tells you to leave her alone, but you just can't. You just can't.

With a bouquet of whatever flowers could find in Zaun, you stood waiting for Vi to come out of the pit. She had won her match, and you were so proud of her.

As soon as you see her beautiful figure, you stand up and straight and attempt to talk.

"Vi, you did so good..."

Your head turns as she walks right past you. You run to catch up to her, stopping right in front of her with your bouquet to her chest.

"I got these for you." You say nervously.

"Why are you here." Vi spits out.

Blinking two times in confusion, a little laugh comes out of your mouth.

"What do you mean? I came to support you. I always want to support you."

"Look, I don't need any fangirls. Please, go on somewhere." Vi says with an eye roll.

You stand there in shock as Vi pushes the flowers back to you and walks away.

As your shock fades away, you quickly decide that you won't let Vi slip from you this easily.

She's just hurt is all. She just needs somebody who won't give up on her, somebody to care.

The next time you saw Vi at one of her matches, she got her ass beat. Her lip was busted, her nose was bleeding from her piercing, and her left one had a shiner on it.

Goddamn

You wait, like always, for her to come out of the pit. When she does, she looks pissed.

"Vi-"

"I don't have time for your fucking fangirly bullshit! Haven't I fucking told you that before! When will you finally get it through your fucking skull that I just like to fuck you?" Vi yells as blood spills from her lip.

With a second thought, you dig in your pocket and pull out a handkerchief for her to wipe her lip with. You hold it out to her, and she looks at you in disbelief.

"I have ointment and gauze for your nose, too if you need it." You speak calmy.

Vi continues to stare at you with her jaw dropped.

"I know you don't care about anything but sex when it comes to me, but I am not the same. I want you to be good. I want you to be more than good. You don't have to feel the same but at least let me heal you a bit. We can have sex after that, and then you can leave."

A beat passes before Vi gives in.

"Fine, but you better make me dinner, too, and I definitely want sex."

With a light laugh, you agree, and you both make the journey to your house.

After entering your house, Vi plops herself on her couch.

"Are you thirsty?" You ask.

"You got beer?" Vi responds.

"Yes. Here you go."

You give the beer to her and then go to the back to get your healing kit.

You sit next to Vi and ask her to turn your way.

"I'll try to be as careful as possible. It might sting a little."

As you heal Vi's face, her body relaxes, and she starts to ask you questions about your life.

How did you get into healing? How do you know how to cook. Where did you find those flowers?

You politely answer every question until you finally finish.

"All done! You did so well." You say cheerfully.

A rosy shade paints Vi's face as she hears your praise. With a cough, she asks roughly, "What for dinner?"

"Oh, I forgot! I was thinking we could have fried fish and rice. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that sounds alright." Vi says nonchalantly despite doing jumping jacks in her head as the thought of a home cooked meal.

As you cook the meal, Vi gets up and stalks towards you.

"What are you doing?"

You nearly jump 10 feet in the air as her voice suprises you.

"Oh, my fucking God Vi, you scared me! I'm breading the fish."

"What's "breading the fish"." Vi says, making quotations in the air.

"It's when you put the chicken in eggs and flour before frying it. It's what makes the fish crispy."

"Mmm." Vi hums as she puts her arms around your waist.

Vi's lips trail down you neck as her hands crawl up the inside of your top.

You moan softly as you fail to push her away. "Vi, I'm trying to cook."

"Cook later, I'm horny."

"I thought you wanted dinner." You puff out.

"I want pussy more." She muffles out into your neck. Continuing, she says, "Plus, I gotta make it up to you for being such as asshole earlier."

"It's okay, Vi. I understand that you're just frustrated sometimes. You don't have to make it up to me." You sigh out in ecstasy as Vi rubs circular motions on your breasts.

"Lemme make it up to you, cupcake."

"Let me turn off the stove." Quickly, you turn off the stove and allow Vi to pick you up to take you to the bedroom.

As soon as Vi lays you on the bed, you immediately start taking each other's clothes off.

The first thing Vi does as she sees your breast is suck on them. She swirls her tongue around your nipple while she palms your other breast. You moan and arch into her touch as she works your body.

"Fuck, Vi, don't stop." You say as you begin to rub quick motions on her clit. She groans into your mouth, her cum coating your fingers. Vi moves away from your breast, trailing kisses down your stomach, happy trail, to the top of your pussy. She plants a kiss there before attempting to dive into you.

"Wait," you say with a heavy breath.

"What?" Vi says with a confused look.

"Let's do 69, I wanna eat your pussy."

A grin splits across Vi's face at lightning speed as quickly moves into position. As soon as her pussy is in front of you, you dive into each other like a five-course Michelin meal.

Both of your moans resound throughout the entire room as you tongue fuck and clit suck each other's pussies into oblivion.

"Fuck, suck my clit harder." Vi demands as she rocks against your face. Quickly obeying her command, you attach your lips to her and suck like a vacuum.

She does the same to you and in a matter of second you both come hard, shaking against each other. Vi rolls off of you and stares at the ceiling in a daze.

"Shit, that felt so good, Vi. You ready for dinner now?" You ask innocently.

Vi nods her head weakly. With a chuckle, you get up out of bed, clean both of you up, and start on dinner.

"Damn, I think fucking love her," Vi whispers to herself.

[starfruit-selections]

TW: CNC, unsafe self bondage

Blindfold? Check. Shears? Check. Ankles? Tight. Wrists? About to be. With that, I pull on the rope in my hand and tighten the hogtie I've put myself in. I'm on the floor in my room, naked except for a rope harness on my torso, and the other ropes binding my body. Pulling again, the hogite gets tighter as my legs are pulled up and back, towards my arms. One more good yank, and it's plenty tight.

Actually maybe too tight? The rope is pulling hard on my ankles and wrists now, too hard. Fuck. I struggle a bit, but it's not long before my fingers start feeling cold. This is bad.

I roll over and try to reach for my shears. Normally I would just struggle out of a tie like this, but the rope around my wrists has been cinched way too tight for that. I need to cut myself out, and fast.

I continue rolling around on the floor, feeling around with quickly numbing hands for the shears that I have specifically for situations like this, but I can't for the life of me find them. I swear I had left them right beside me! I should've rolled over them by now! Fuck fuck fuck.

My hands are feeling tingly now, and I'm starting to lose feeling. Even if I do manage to find my shears at this point, I doubt I'd be able to use them. This is really fucking bad. What can I do?

Call for help? My roommate is just in the living room, they'd definitely be able to hear me. But then they'd see me like this, naked and tied up in the floor. This is only my 2nd week in this apartment, my 2nd week knowing this person, and they'd be seeing me at my most vulnerable. I don't know if I'd be able to live that down. Fuck it, it's better than losing my hands.

"Elle!" I call out, still rolling around, still prodding the floor with my quickly numbing hands in a desperate attempt to find the shears. "Elllle!"

"I'm coming I'm coming, jeez. What's all the fuss abo- Oh." she cuts off as I hear my door opening. For a moment, I'm thankful that the blindfold is preventing me from seeing her reaction. "Well now isn't this something…"

I don't want to hear what she's about to say. "Please, the rope on my wrists is too tight, I'm losing feeling, there are shears around here somewhere, cut me out, please!"

"Well alright sweetie, I guess I can do that, lets see now… Ah! Here are the shears." Something's off about her tone as she walks past me, presumably to pick up the shears. That doesn't matter right now though, I just need out.

"Please, cut me out quick! I'm going numb!" I yell louder than I need to, seeing as how she's right next to me. It's more of a plea than anything.

"Calm your tits and hold still so I don't cut you, little rope bunny." Again the tone, and did she call me a rope bunny? Whatever, she's cutting me out, that's all that matters right now.

I hear her kneel down and get right up next to me, although she seems to take her sweet time doing it. She grabs my arms tight, I guess to keep me still? I am struggling quite a bit. "Alright, lets free those pretty little wrists free, shall we?" I feel the cold metal of the shears press against my skin, as she cuts through the bindings on my wrists. Finally, I can feel the blood flowing back in to my hands. I'm gonna be fine.

"Fuck, thank you, I really thought I was going to-" before I can finish, I feel a new length of rope wrapping around my wrists and being pulled tight. "Wait what the hell are you doing?" I yell, and try to struggle away. She has a solid grip on my arms though, and I can't put up much of a fight with how tired my arms are. Before long my wrists are once again bound, though not nearly as tight.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head, slut" Elle says, keeping a solid grip on my arms and pulling me up on to my feet. The rope attaching my wrists to my ankles is gone, but my ankles remained tied together tightly. "Obviously you love being tied up…" Elle continues, ignoring my protests. "And I would hate to take that away from you so soon, but you clearly can't be trusted to tie yourself up properly. Luckily, you seem to have left plenty of rope lying around for me to help you out with! Still, I wouldn't want to leave you un-supervised, so you can come out to the living room with me and have your fun in there." What the fuck does she think she's doing?

"No! Elle, just let me go and untie me, I'm done for tonight, really!" I plead with her, still struggling against her grip. Fuck she's strong.

"Nonsense! Now, why don't you quite down a little, hm?" Before I can protest, she shoves something into my mouth so that I can't speak. Judging by the material and the taste, I can tell it's my pantied from earlier that I had left lying on the floor. Then I feel a piece of rope wrap around my head in front of my mouth before being pulled tight, preventing me from spitting out the gag.

"Much better! Now, to the living room we go." With that, she picks me up and throws me over her shoulder. Despite my depserate struggling, her hold on me remains tight as I'm carried out into the living room and placed down in my stomach, not nearly as gently as I would've liked. Once I'm on the ground, I immediately feel my arms and legs get yanked together by a new rope. Elle must have some experience with rope herself, as before I know it I'm tied up in a new hogtie.

I once again try to protest, but only muffled grunts are able to make it through the gag. I finally feel her let go of my arms, but it doesn't matter at this point. This tie is much better than the one I had done to myself, and even as I struggle, it doesn't loosen at all.

"There you go, tied up nice and tight, but properly this time. Huh, seems you left a wet spot on my shoulder when I carried you out here, what a slut. Don't worry, I'll make sure you get a chance to make it up to me later. I've been eyeing that pretty mouth of yours ever since you moved in, and I'm sure it'd feel great around my cock. I have a movie to finish though, so I'll let you have your fun for now. Just pretend that I'm not here!"

And with that, the TV starts playing, and I'm left on the floor, entirely at the mercy of my roommate. I continue to struggle for a while, but it's not long before I give up. At least I can feel my hands again, I guess. I have a feeling this is going to be a long night though…

[dietcokegirly12]

“What'd You Do to the Eggnog?”

featuring osamu dazai

꒰ ─ ・┈ ☕︎ ⟡ ─ ・┈ ☕︎ ⟡ ─ ・┈ ☕︎ ⟡ ─ ・┈ ☕︎ ⟡ ꒱

art credit: @chulies and pinterest!!♡

꒰ ─ ・┈ ☕︎ ⟡ ─ ・┈ ☕︎ ⟡ ─ ・┈ ☕︎ ⟡ ─ ・┈ ☕︎ ⟡ ꒱

synopsis: after spiking dazai's eggnog with aphrodisiacs, things get a bit...heated

word count: 1.4k

tags: aphrodisiacs, unprotected sex, dry-humping, needy!dazai, multiple rounds, overstimulation, mating press, cervix kissing, etc etc

kinkmas december 1st ☃︎⊹₊

・┈・╴⊹˚₊ 𓍢ִ໋⛾ ׂ 𓈒・┈・╴⊹˚₊ 𓍢ִ໋⛾ ׂ 𓈒・┈・╴⊹˚₊ 𓍢ִ໋⛾ ׂ 𓈒・

you knew you were in trouble the second dazai got through an entire glass. then, a second one. and he was currently halfway through his third.

you truly hadn’t meant for him to drink that much. it was supposed to be a fun little prank, one where you spiked his eggnog with aphrodisiacs, and got him all needy and flustered, before finally giving in, after teasing him relentlessly.

but, by the time you got back, he was already almost finished with the entire half gallon you made.

lifting the glass to his lips to finish off yet another glass.

"stop!" you raced over to snatch the cup away from him, causing a startled look to flash across his face.

"dazai, please don't tell me you drank all that."

“what? m'sorryyy it was so good! did you put something different in it? cinnamon?"

you swallow. “y-yeah sure. are you.. ah feeling.. alright?”

he furrows his eyebrows. "yeah? so when are we going to start decorating?"

oh right. you two were supposed to be decorating gingerbread cookies for the holidays. in all the excitement, you had forgotten, but now, with the hopeful thought that maybe the aphrodisiacs weren't as strong as you had thought, maybe it was going to be okay.

you had no idea how wrong you were.

"dazai, pass me the gumdrops."

he gives you the glass bowl filled with multi-colored, sugared drops, you quickly pressing them on to your shaped cookie.

"aww look how cute!" you gushed, adding a few last finishing touches with the frosting bag.

"phew, it's hot in here, baby." dazai fans himself, leaning over the counter as he adds candies to his own gingerbread man.

"yeah, i think it's from the oven." you distractedly pipe little swirls, not noticing when dazai's breathing gets heavier next to you.

suddenly, you accidentally squeeze too hard, causing frosting to spurt out in a clump, messing up the neat patterns you had created.

"fuck! 'samu, can you get me a paper towel?"

you should've known something was wrong the instant dazai was unusually quiet, simply turning around to do as you had asked.

but you were too busy fussing over the frosting covered cookies, frantically trying to swipe off the excess in hopes of saving them to notice.

so, when you felt the warmth of someone pressing up behind you, it startled you.

enough for you to almost drop the cookie you had been holding up, especially when that someone moaned breathily into your ear, subtly grinding against you.

"dazai?" you gasp, turning back slightly to face him.

he didn't like that, though, shoving you forward with enough force that it has you bracing your hands on the counter, mouth agape.

"fuck, m'sorry! jus'... stay still. please." the tone of his voice is whiney, and has you clenching your thighs together, already pulsing with need.

he ruts against you with an almost frantic kind of urgency, his bulge rubbing tantalizingly on your ass, as his palms come to cup your breasts, touching anywhere he can reach.

"i d-don't know why i feel like this," he gasps out. "i jus' feel hot all over an'..."

and then you can't do anything but whimper as he pushes you further, until your forehead touches the cool marble of the table, practically bending you in half.

"...you jus' look so good." his hips keep working against you, without any semblance of a pace, just rubbing himself on you as hard as he can.

"dazai.." you manage to groan out. "dazai, it's aphrodisiacs! i put aphrodisiacs in the eggnog, i didn't.. ah.. think they would work, or that you would.. hah.. drink so much."

he stiffens at your words, but doesn't halt his grinding. "oh, you naughty, naughty girl."

his words don't hold any actual malice in them, though, voice too ragged and needy for that.

"m'sorry! m'sorry!" you cry out, as his hips thrust into you harder, humping you vigorously, unable to stop himself.

"s'too late for that now. now..." he pants out. "you hafta help me with the.. ah.. problem you caused, sweets."

you squeal, as he lifts you up by the hips, thrusting your face and chest into the table roughly, already yanking down the thin, lacy panties you had on under your apron.

"samuuu..!" your face is pushed down further into the counter as he grunts above you, tugging down his own loose christmas pj pants, to press his throbbing boner against your bare pussy, slick already seeping out.

"c-can't wait.." he moans above you, hips already dragging languidly back and forth to smear his angry, leaking tip all over your cunt. "s'okay if i put it in now, doll?"

you can only whimper in reply, mouth muffled by the table you're shoved against, bucking your hips back into him as affirmation.

he groans at that, his pulsating cock already beginning to push in, stretching you out as he gets past the first tight ring of muscle, pussy greedily sucking him in for more, more.

when he finally manages to bottom out inside you, bulbous tip thrumming against your cervix, wet squelches are all you can hear as he starts an absolutely brutal pace.

"fuck! what did you put in that eggnog?" he gasps between thrusts, plowing into you so hard, you swear you can feel him all the way in your lungs.

you cry out in reply as he grabs the fat of your ass, pulling you into him harder until the harsh sound of skin slapping against skin echoes throughout the room.

"samu!" you wail. "slower! slower!"

"baby i can't!" he moans, though to his credit, he eases his hands up slightly, hips becoming sloppier with every thrust.

and you can feel your high approaching with every quickened breath you take, stomach coiling up into tight little knots as you clench harder around him, coaxing him to release.

"m'sorry... never felt like this.. ah... i n-need..." dazai's words are all slurred together, practically unintelligible in his rambling as he gets closer and closer.

and then he's cumming.

and you swear the aphrodisiacs had something to do with it, because as he fills you with spurt after spurt of hot, sticky seed, there's so much of it, it has you gasping, his cock releasing long pulses of white into your overstuffed cunt.

your walls spasm and clench around him, milking him for every last drop as your own eyes roll back in pleasure, the taut stiffness of your stomach finally letting go, your vision blurring with white, and thighs trembling.

and no sooner than a couple moments after you've come back down from your high, dazai's already spinning you around, and lifting you up by your plush thighs to fold you into a mean mating press.

you're almost dizzy as you feel the points of your knees pressing against your cushy tits, dazai barely giving you a moment to collect yourself before he's fucking into you raw at this new angle.

"one more.. m'sorry i jus' need o-one more."

"samu..!" you half-moan half-protest, clawing at him as your eyes roll back in your head.

"i know- i knowwww," he rocks his hips back and forth with desperate speed, head tilted back with flushed cheeks and sweaty, mussed-up hair curling to his forehead. "but can you blame me? it's.. hah.. y-your fault!"

you whimper, already feeling tears of overstimulation pricking at your vision, but at the same time, feeling desperately turned on by this side of dazai.

with a feral growl, he throws your legs over your shoulders, stretching you even further to take more of his weighty shaft. "n-need more.. more."

it seemed like he was trying to mold himself as close as possible into your snug cunt, huffing with exertion as he pounds into you with breath after ragged breath, chest practically laid flat against yours.

when he reaches that spot, the one that's soft and squishy and has your toes curling almost instantly, you can't even warn him.

you're cumming.

absolutely drenching him in your syrupy slick, gushing all over his throbbing cock, which in return, pumps out hot, oozing cum deep into you, voice breaking off into a whine.

you pant softly, exertion weighing your limbs down as the last few pulses of his creamy white ribbons spurt into you.

before you've even fully come back to yourself though, you feel dazai crawling up your body to mouth kisses along your neck, cock still fully erect and aching inside you. "o-one more? please?"

tagslist (ask to be tagged!): @iams0up @mairia-chan @urlocalfemcel-xx @ghostedwriting @amanoava @fluffyfrog1619 @chuuyaslittledoll @newnlovesjennie

[brotherwtf]

Oooooooo maybe 4 for fantasy au 👀

4) slow sex while one or both are injured (bonus points if it’s after a battle or after they’ve patched up each other’s wounds)

Gale finally, FINALLY accepting his feelings for John it's a good day

----

"Gale, I swear I'm okay, I swear, it's alright Gale," John whispers but Gale doesn't take his head up, hands clutching even tighter on John's arms.

Gale has his head buried in John's chest, hands clutching the sleeves of John's jacket while he pants, breath heaving and shaky as he tries to get some breaths in.

I don't believe him.... please please I need him to be okay John hears Gale think and he takes one of his hands from Gale's grip and uses it to cup his chin.

"I'm okay, Gale," John whispers and runs his fingers through Gales hair, cupping his cheek and smiling weakly at him.

In all fairness his stomach still screamed in pain whenever he applied pressure to it, but the pain almost seems to melt away when Gale finally, finally, presses a brave kiss to John's lips. This one isn't demure or shy, it's hungry and desperate, and John huffs a moan into his lips.

Without removing his lips he shifts and turns Gale onto his back, cradling his waist with his other arm and tucking his thumb under Gales shirt, swallowing the almost pained gasp that escapes from Gale when he touches him.

"Is this okay?" John asks and Gale bites his lip, nods his head as he presses his nose against John's cheek, urging him to go faster.

Yes yes, please I need you to touch me

John could almost come right there, just hearing Gale's thoughts, but he smiles at him and starts to take Gale's shirt off, returning down to kiss him desperately. Gale's hands find his slacks, messy hands shoving his jacket off. John winces when Gale's fingers brush the wound in his stomach, but the pain doesn't last long, replaced by a dull pleasure when Gale brushes his clothed cock.

His lips leave Gales for a moment so he can shirk off his slacks and the rest of his shirt, immediately falling back onto Gale's lips when he's stark naked, eyes raking over Gale's figure and gasping. John knew Gale was beautiful, but he didn't understand quite how stunning he was, spread out beneath him, hair fanning around his head and panting quietly, overwhelmed by all of the sensations. John could almost laugh, can't believe that he has this beautiful thing beneath him.

"God, Gale, you're fucking beautiful," John says, leaning forward to hold himself up on forearms and press their foreheads together.

Gale's already panting and he just whines at the words, a swift hand coming up to clutch John's arm. John kisses Gale as he moves one of his hands down to Gale's hole, tight and hot and John moans alongside Gale when he presses a blunt finger into him, relishing in the tightness of him.

Gale's thoughts are a mush of words, no one thought penetrating John's mind and it's almost distracting. John pushes Gales curls back and presses a soft kiss to his lips, adding another finger to Gale to help stretch him.

"Hey, Gale, stop thinking for me for just a second. Just feel baby, tell me how you feel, no need to keep it yourself," John whispers and when he crooks his fingers up Gale whines, grip getting even tighter on John's arm.

"Fuck... John... it feels good," Gale whimpers and John smiles, kissing him as a reward.

"There you go baby, I know you can use your words," John says and he pulls his fingers out, sitting on the back of his calves so he can guide his cock inside of Gale.

Gale's fingers tighten around John when he pushes inside, eyes screwing up in pleasure as he throws his head back, teeth gritted as he tries to keep his sounds inside of him. It's only somewhat successful; John can still hear his little pleased sounds as he starts to move slowly, coming back to hold himself up on his forearms so he can kiss Gale long and slow.

John takes his time, wanting to take Gale apart with each thrust of his hips and each movement of his lips, their kisses getting wetter and sloppier as time goes on. Gale's mind is blissfully quiet, only occasional whispers of John's name as he clenches down on him, and John can't fucking believe that Gale is his, that Gale finally decided to trust John enough to do this.

Gale comes first on a high pitched whimper, throwing his head back and wrapping both of his arms around John's head, panting and shaking as his hands try to find something to hold onto, especially when John keeps thrusting into him. It doesn't take John long before he's coming, too, filling Gale up with his hot come to the point that Gale moans with how much it's filled him.

John moves Gale's head so he's looking at him, a pleased smile spreading across his face as he comes down from his orgasm.

"John... fuck... I love you, I fucking love you," Gale whispers and John can feel his heart clench, can't quite believe it.

He runs his fingers through Gales hair before cupping his cheek, smiling a little wetly down at him.

"I love you too, Gale, I fucking love you too,"

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 22: This Misery We've Made

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: It's Tommy and Lizzie's wedding day.

Word Count: 4,667

Notes: I cried while writing most of this chapter. Friendly reminder that Lucy is suffering from severe depression and C-PTSD after what happened to her in the previous part, and therefore cannot be considered an entirely reliable narrator. Her self esteem is nonexistent and her thoughts are only a reflection of what her fucked up brain is causing her to think, not actually what Tommy feels. Warnings for depictions of insecurity, jealousy, depression, and references to self harm.

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Chapter 3: The Bells

The bells were ringing overhead. Echoing in a thunderous clang for all to hear. The sound of them was intended to announce a joyous occasion. Something to be met with celebration. 

Lucy was not in a particularly celebratory mood. 

She stood with her back resting against the shaded side of the church, the cigarette in her hand poised to soon join the others she’d already dropped to the ground after they became too small to properly grip. Her eyes followed the well dressed guests walking up from their cars towards the big double doors that lead into the chapel. None of them paid her even a parting glance, the angle and shade of the church shielding her from view.   

She was hiding. From Tommy. From Lizzie. From everyone. She didn’t want to ruin their happy day with her melancholy. Casting a glance at her watch, she drew in a trembling breath at the realization that she would have to go inside soon. 

Dread built within her, creating a pressure that felt moments away from bursting. It had been there since Tommy had proposed to Lizzie, growing steadily by the day like a tumor.

She let her most recent cigarette drop into the grass, grinding it down under her heel to make sure it didn’t spark. Wouldn’t that be something? She could see the headlines now: Lover of MP About to be Married Sets Church on Fire. 

The crunch of grass under a set of shoes alerted her to footsteps approaching. She didn’t need to look up to know who it was. She’d know him by gait alone. 

“I’ve been looking for you,” Tommy said softly, once he’d come to a stop beside her.

“Sorry,” Lucy mumbled, looking down at her nails, freshly painted their usual shade of bright red for the occasion. Picking at an imaginary speck of lint on her oxford blue dress, she avoided having to look up at him. 

Tommy’s hands were sheathed in the pockets of his carefully tailored wedding suit, eyes boring into her. “Are you alright?”

She forced herself to plaster on some semblance of happiness–and if not that, then at least serenity–onto her face before raising it to finally look at him. “Of course.”

Tommy just frowned, moving so that he was standing in front of her, taking care to keep them both still hidden within the shadows of the church. His hands came to rest on her upper arms, smoothing up and down before slipping around her back, pulling himself in closer to her until their foreheads were touching. Lucy closed her eyes, swallowing around the immovable lump in her throat and resting her palms on his waist.

“We can still call it off,” he whispered, warm breath fanning out across her cheeks.

Lucy shook her head, trying to remind herself of the things he’d told her last night. “It’s okay.”

His thumb was rubbing circles into the lower part of her back, attempting to soothe her. 

“I will love you forever,” he promised, and she felt her lower lip start to quiver, eyes filling with tears that she furiously blinked away. She nodded jerkily, angling her face up to kiss him. 

“I will love you forever too,” she murmured. For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had fallen away, and it was just them, standing in their own little bubble where nothing and no one could touch them. Not even the sound of the bells ringing overheard.

She made a move to pull away, but his grip on her tightened, holding her in place against him firmly so that he could kiss her again. The last kiss they would share that would not be tainted by his bonds and marriage to another woman. 

“It’s time,” Lucy said after they parted. Why did it feel as though she were sending him off to his death? Like she would never see him again; never hold or kiss or even touch him. Like she was about to lose him forever. 

Tommy nodded, expression that of a man about to make his final walk to the gallows. He kissed her forehead firmly, and, with blatant reluctance, loosened his grip on her. 

It took nearly all her willpower for Lucy to force herself to take that first step away from him. Then another and another, grass rustling under the small heels she was wearing. Tears brimmed at her lash line, but by some miracle she swallowed them down. Her arms wrapped around herself, trying through the makeshift embrace to soothe herself. She did not look back. If she did, she knew she would run to him, throw her arms around his neck, and never let him go.

It would be fine, she just had to keep reminding herself of that. He had promised.

So why did it feel like they’d just broken up? 

Keeping her head down, she slipped into the church, quietly finding a spot in the pews close to the doors next to Ada.

She could barely watch the ceremony. In her lap, her hands gripped each other so tightly that the nails dug into and broke the skin. Tommy entered and went to stand at the end of the altar, hands clasped at his front and expression unreadable. Jeremiah was standing behind him, dressed in his robes and prepared to officiate, while Arthur stood to Tommy’s left, once again serving as best man for his younger brother. To the right, one of Lizzie’s sisters had taken the place for the maid of honor. Lucy could sense Tommy’s gaze darting to her every once in a while, but couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Instead her eyes remained downcast, entire body stock still. 

Lizzie looked utterly radiant in her white wedding gown, her eyes dancing with uninhibited joy, the biggest smile Lucy had ever seen splitting her face. The dread inside Lucy tripled, twisting sickly inside of her. 

Lizzie came to a stop beside Tommy at the altar, fixing him with a look of such deep love that Lucy had to quickly look away.

What have we done?

Ada gave her shoulder a squeeze, and while she did not have the energy to properly acknowledge the gesture, she was thankful for it nonetheless.   

It was a quick ceremony, thankfully. Only the necessities. At the sound of Tommy’s deep voice reciting his vows to Lizzie, Lucy’s eyes squeezed shut. 

He had made promises to her, that was true. But he was now in the process of making ones to Lizzie as well. And he would not be able to keep some of those promises to one woman without breaking the ones he’d made to the other. He was going to have to choose. 

Lucy twisted one of her rings around her finger. It was a position she had never wanted to put him in. 

The saying of the vows and the exchanging of the rings ended, and Jeremiah’s voice boomed throughout the church as he announced the new union of Tommy and Lizzie as husband and wife. Cheers erupted from both sides of the rows of spectators. Polly nearly flew out of her seat with the force in which she stood, clapping her hands together and beaming. 

So different from when Tommy had married Grace, Lucy couldn’t help but think. She wondered, not for the first time, what exactly it was Lizzie had that she and Grace didn’t, which had so earned her Polly’s undying adoration, love, and approval. 

That’s it. It’s done, Lucy thought to herself, somehow managing to remember to bring her hands together in quiet, numb little claps against each other. 

It felt like something had just died. Like her whole life up until that point had been one long sentence, and a period had just been placed at the end of it. Something was changed. Ended. Gone. Maybe forever. 

What it was, she wasn't entirely sure. Did she really think that all it took was a few vows and a ring to murder Tommy’s love for her? No, not really. But it still felt as though something had shifted in the air. A hollowness had widened inside her, like something had been ripped away. Her face screwed up slightly as she tried to figure out what it was. 

The rest of the family started to gather up their things to follow the bride and groom outside and head down the street to the hotel where the reception was being held. She was watching the family shuffle towards the door, chattering, laughing, and smiling amongst each other, not one of them sparing her a parting glance, when it dawned on her entirely what she’d just lost.

Her and Tommy’s life together was gone. This was how all public encounters would be from now on. Tommy and Lizzie, connected with their arms linked or hands entwined, able to touch and talk and laugh with each other as much as they pleased. And the family would orbit around them. They all loved Lizzie. Accepted her. Approved of her as a partner in Tommy’s life. Lucy might as well be left locked outside, able to do little more than peer in through a window while the family gathered together. It would have the same effect. She was not naive enough to believe that she had previously ever been invited into anything they did together for reasons other than her being at Tommy’s side. A space that Lizzie now filled. 

The only moments she and Tommy could have together anymore would be in private rooms and dark, shadowy corners. No more touching when others could see them. No more mumbled jokes into ears, or sitting next to each other. No more kisses when there was a risk that someone else might see them. No more dates. Hell, probably never even another vacation spent together. 

That was all over. All she would get of him anymore were the crumbs that Lizzie left behind. Rare slivers of moments when he had the time.

She remained in her seat in the church, hands hanging limply over the wooden banister, eyes staring into space while the final few guests filtered out the doors, leaving her alone.

The bells had taken up their ringing once more. Lucy wondered if they rang them for funerals as well as weddings. Fitting, either way, considering that both had just taken place.

Still sitting there, she finally allowed her tears to overspill and run down her cheeks. Leaning forward with her head on her arms, she sobbed alone, the sounds of her mournful cries drowned out by the cacophony of the wedding bells. 

∗ ∗ ∗

They all love her so much. 

Lucy couldn’t entirely keep the bitterness out of the thought as she watched the Shelbys encircle Lizzie, practically oozing adoration and excitement at being able to finally welcome her officially to the family. 

Lucy quickly turned away, cutting through the crowd to get to the bar and order what she suspected to be the first of many glasses of whiskey she would consume over the evening. 

After ensuring there was no evidence of the tears she shed at the church, she’d finally made her way to the room that the reception was being held in. The place was jam packed with guests. Not only were all the Shelbys there for the occasion, but so were the small handful of Lizzie’s friends and family, as well as a good share of Tommy’s colleagues from Westminster, and various business partners and associates. 

It was her primary goal this evening to avoid everyone. Including Tommy. She would probably just stick around for dinner and then sneak away. They had paid for rooms at the hotel for all the guests that wanted to spend the night, but Lucy frankly just wanted to go home. At the very least her dogs and cat were there to keep her company. She would tell someone–probably Ada–when she was off so that they would know where she went. Assuming that they even noticed her missing at all, of course. 

“Lucy, can I speak with you for a moment?”

She started, hand tightening reflexively around her glass of whiskey. Lizzie had snuck up behind her without her even noticing, too lost in musing over her plans of escaping the event early. Lucy stared up at her like a deer in headlights, eyes wide. She suddenly felt even shorter than usual. On a normal day, Lizzie towered over her, but in heels and her wedding dress, she seemed even taller and more regal than usual. 

She truly did look every bit the part of the new Queen of Birmingham. 

“Sure,” Lucy said, having to clear her throat in order to get the word out. Lizzie took her firmly by the arm and began to steer her away into a side room that was unoccupied. 

“I wanted to ask you, since we arranged for Ruby’s things to be moved into Arrow House while we’re away, if you would be willing to move rooms,” Lizzie wasted no time on small talk, immediately stating her request the moment that the door was closed. Her fingers traced over the wedding bands on her left ring finger. Lucy wondered if it was an unconscious movement, or if she was trying to remind her of her place. “I want her room to be closer to mine, you see. In case she needs anything in the middle of the night.” 

Lizzie had been by the house earlier to get more familiar with it, and to choose her room. The main master bedroom they once shared with Grace was off limits, but she had her pick of any of the others. She had chosen a large room next door to the one Tommy and Lucy normally occupied. 

She hadn’t been bothered when they informed her that her choice of room was next to theirs. Had she been planning to ask Lucy to move even then?

She gave a slight shake of her head. You’re being paranoid, she scolded herself. Lizzie’s thought process made sense. Ruby ought to be close to her mother’s room. 

“Yes, of course, that’s fine. I’ll tell Francis when I get back–”

“I already told her,” Lizzie cut her off. “And I already picked out another room for you. I told them to move your things today while we were out.”

Then why did you bother asking? Lucy mused internally, but bit her tongue.

“I hope that’s alright,” Lizzie added, and Lucy immediately felt bad for thinking the worst of her. Especially when she was probably just trying to ensure that Ruby was able to get settled as quickly as possible. 

“Oh, it’s…fine.”

Lizzie smiled, reaching out to squeeze her arm. “Thank you.” From outside, there was the sound of someone announcing that dinner was to be served soon, asking everyone to find their seats. “We ought to go.”

Lucy nodded, and followed her out the door, lingering back a little while Lizzie dashed off to go to the table reserved at the far end of the room for her and Tommy. Circular tables were scattered all throughout the room, and Lucy began to weave carefully around them. Notecards sat atop each place setting, inscribed with each guest's name written in delicate calligraphy to indicate their assigned seat.  

All of the Shelbys were seated near the front, right by Tommy and Lizzie’s table. All except for her, notably. She found her notecard at a table near the back, placed about as far away from Tommy and Lizzie’s table as it was possible for her to be. She stared down at it, rubbing her thumb across the golden loops of her name as if that would somehow encourage it to change. 

Sighing, she sank down into her chair, sharing an awkward smile with the other guests at the table, none of which she knew. Sneaking a glance to the other side of the room, she eyed the Shelbys all sitting at their table together, chuckling at something Arthur was saying. The ache of feeling left out pinched at her heart.  

I’m not a Shelby. I’m not family, she reminded herself, though it did nothing to soothe the sting. 

There was a tug in her mind so strong that it was impossible to ignore. She’d been feeling them all day. Little nudges and pulls that were trying to get her attention. Begging her to please, just look at me. And yet also not wanting to push, trying to respect her space and leave her be to process what was happening.    

But this was much more of a considerable yank, as if the person on the other end of the bond was a little panicked. 

He didn’t know where she was, she realized. He was looking for her in the crowd and couldn’t find her, and was panicking that she’d left. 

Guilt welled up inside her, because had that not been exactly what she was planning on doing once dinner was over? Disappearing without even a goodbye, and wholly believing that Tommy would not notice if she was gone. 

What’s wrong with me? It was not the first time she had asked herself that. Why, no matter how many times he reassured her, could she not bring herself to fully believe him? She did in the moment, when his sweet words washed over her and he curled his body around hers in a protective, loving embrace that left her feeling warm and cherished. But the doubt always came back. 

 He said he loved her. He said he would never leave her. He had given her no reason not to believe him. So why couldn’t she?

Her fingers curled into a small fist, nails biting into the flesh of her palm; an attempt to punish herself for her ridiculous thoughts and even worse behavior. 

She forced her eyes to raise from her plate, focusing across the room at Tommy. He was sitting up in his chair next to Lizzie, gaze scanning across the room, not really listening as his bride chatted giddily into his ear. His brow was knit, lips pulling down into a worried frown. 

I’m here, she pulled gently on the indescribable bond between them, giving a small tug to the little red string tying them together. She had never spent much effort in trying to puzzle out what exactly the bond between them was. It had just always been there, even before she actually knew him.

His blue gaze snapped to her almost instantly, but his frown only deepened as he noticed where she was sitting.  

The fuck are you doing all the way over there?

She held up the little note card to him in answer to his silent question. His gaze narrowed, lips parting, and she realized with horror that he was about to kick up a fuss to try to have her moved. 

No! Don’t!

His mouth closed. Why not?

Think of how it will look! 

So? You’re family. You ought to be seated as such. I want you close to me.

I don’t want to upset her. It’s supposed to be her day, Tommy. It’s fine, don’t worry about me.

The look on his face said that he very much did worry, but he thankfully kept his mouth shut, leaning back in his chair and casting her a regretful, apologetic look before his attention was pulled away by Lizzie.   

Dinner was awkward, given that no one at her table seemed all that interested in talking with her. Lucy instead busied herself with pushing her fish around on her plate, her appetite evaporated. Once it was over, the band started up playing, and Tommy and Lizzie made their way onto the dancefloor for their first dance as husband and wife. People stood from their tables to gather around to watch, and Lucy took the chance to slip away, ducking back into the side room Lizzie had taken her to before dinner.   

Rooting around in the little black clutch she’d brought with her, she snuck her fingers past the small gun tucked away inside to fish out her cigarettes and lighter. Upon cracking open the window to let the smoke out she was met with a rush of chilly evening air from outside. Goosebumps rose up on the skin or her arms despite the long sleeves of her dress, but she ignored them, perching herself on the windowsill to gaze down at the dark street below. 

She would need to get a driver to take her home. It would be late by the time that she finally got back to the house, but she doubted that she would be sleeping much tonight anyway. 

Her fingers squeezed a little around her cigarette. She had been trying not to think about the wedding night. Ever since they’d gotten together, she and Tommy had a rule regarding bringing others into their bed: they would not sleep with someone else unless they were both present. It was a rule they’d both followed steadfastly. Except with Grace, after they moved to Arrow House with her. But that had been different. 

Grace would never have tried to rip her and Tommy apart.

It was a rule that was about to be broken. And even though she’d agreed to it, it still hurt. Whether it was simply the idea of Tommy sleeping with Lizzie without her, or Lizzie’s rejection of her being permitted to still be involved–they’d had plenty of threesomes with Lizzie in the past, after all–she could not entirely say. She had never handled feeling left out well, and try as she might, she could not bring herself to wholly trust Lizzie.

Despite his promises, would Tommy really be able to prevent Lizzie from driving a wedge between them? She was his wife. And Ruby’s mother. And Charlie’s step-mother. He needed to keep her happy. Lucy was his…what? His mistress, she supposed. The other woman. His dirty little secret. 

She had once mused to herself how miserable it must be to be the mistress of a married man. So much of their lives doomed to be spent alone, only able to enjoy brief, fleeting moments with the person that they loved. 

She understood a little better now. You take what you can get of them, because even a few seconds together was better than nothing at all. 

She was going to have to get used to it. While Tommy said things would go mostly back to normal once they got back from Paris, she wasn’t so sure. He only planned to spend limited nights with Lizzie, and the door was still open for all three of them to fuck if they all wanted, but Lucy doubted Lizzie would be that amiable to the idea. 

And what if either of them changed their minds?

That was all it would take to eradicate Lucy’s involvement with Tommy entirely. She could imagine it already: them, returning from their honeymoon, Tommy taking her by the hands and gently leading her away, telling her he was sorry. He wouldn’t be unkind about it, but that would not hinder him from speaking the words that would shatter her heart. 

It was not out of the realm of possibility that he would realize during the honeymoon that he favored Lizzie over her. Honestly, she was still shocked that it hadn’t happened yet. Because when push came to shove she knew she wasn’t anywhere close to as pretty as Lizzie. No one in their right mind would choose Lucy over her. And that wasn’t even factoring in the children. Or that his family adored her. Or that they just looked right when standing next to each other. He always kept going back to Lizzie, even after she ceased her work as a prostitute. Sure, Lucy had always been agreeable to sleeping with her, because she liked Lizzie. But perhaps there was a reason why Tommy kept returning to her. One that not even he was entirely aware of.

Her head turned at the sound of the door opening. Tommy slipped in, quickly closing the door behind him and flicking the lock into place. He stood there, just looking at her, the dim light from the ornate lamps on the tables bouncing off of his sharp features.

“Love,” he said, softly. Stubbing her cigarette out on the windowsill and reaching over to pull the window closed, Lucy didn’t even hear as he moved closer. Not until his hand brushed tentatively against her shoulder. 

“I think that I’m going to go home,” she said after a moment, not looking at him, instead keeping her gaze fixed firmly out the window.

“Okay.” She both was and wasn’t relieved that he didn’t fight her on it. “I’ll get someone to drive you.”

“Thank you.” Awkwardness settled between them. Lucy could not remember the last time that the silence they shared was anything but comfortable. Turning, she stood from the windowsill and finally forced herself to look at him. He was gazing down at her with a look of such deep regret and heartache, that just the sight of it almost made her start to cry. 

“You’re still planning to leave early tomorrow morning?”

“Yes.”

She wouldn’t see him before they were off, then. Nodding, she glanced down, unable to meet the sad look in his eyes any longer. “You don’t need to worry about work or Ruby getting settled or anything. I’ll take care of it.”  

He leaned forward, hand finding her chin and gently nudging her face up to look at him. His eyes searched her features. She parted her lips to speak, but it took her a few tries until her voice wasn’t too tear-laced for her to trust it. 

“Have a fun honeymoon,” she finally managed to choke out. When she tried to pull away, his hands landed on her upper arms, holding her firmly in place. 

“Lucy,” he said, a layer of franticness in his voice, “When I’m with her…I’m not with her.”

She stared at the center of his chest, examining the pattern on the tie tucked into his waistcoat, then tilted her head back up to him. His eyes were desperate, scared, grip tight like he was afraid if he let her go, he’d never get to touch her again. 

“I know,” her voice was shaking, about two seconds away from starting to cry. And she was afraid that when she started, she would never be able to stop. 

Tommy tugged her fully into his arms, folding her against his chest. He kissed her forehead softly, then laid his cheek against it as he held her tight.

“We’re not saying goodbye,” he said. “I’m coming back to you.”

Lucy squeezed her eyes shut, arms circling his middle and squeezing him to her. He squeezed her back, spreading kisses all across the crown of her head. For a moment the warmth of his body muffled the storm of doubt within her. The surety of his words, and the firmness with which he held her, were both nearly impossible to argue with. Surely he would not be holding her like this if he no longer loved her, would he?

Her breaths trembled in her chest as she tried her hardest to believe him. And yet a part of her still stubbornly insisted that she needed to commit every detail of his embrace to memory. The way that his chest rose and fell with his breaths. The scent of his natural musk and cologne. The slight flexing in his muscles when he adjusted his hold on her. His heartbeat was a steady thump against her cheek, and his chest was solid and pleasantly warm. She needed to remember all of these things. Store them away in a safe spot in her mind so that she could call back on them when she was alone and cold in the dark.

Because this may very well be the last time that he ever held her.

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[daddysfangirls-marvel]

Polyamorous: Inexperience pt.3

*Bonus*

Steve rogers x female! reader x Bucky Barnes/ Stucky x female!Reader

Warning: fluff, smut

"He's doing much better. He should be right as rain by morning." Bucky said as he placed leaned against the counter next to (y/n) as she did the dishes.

Steve had fallen ill Bucky, (Y/n), and Mrs. Rogers have been doing their best to take care of him. Mrs. Rogers had switched to the night shift temporary so she could be with Steve during the day and Bucky and (y/n) would be with him at night after work. It had been two weeks and his fever was finally letting up.

"Aunt Sarah will love to hear that. She hates night shift."

"I hear her night shifts are quiet"

"yeah, but there are no doctors on ward meaning if something happens they have to call one in and none of them live close. There is only so much nurses can do."

Bucky kissed her shoulder" She'll be alright." and picked up a towel helping her dry. "Aunt Sarah is strong and so is Steve. They'll be just fine."

"I know, doesn't mean I can't worry." They finished cleaning the kitchen in silence.

Bucky watched as (Y/n) pulled out extra blankets and pillows getting the couch ready. They would sleep on the couch as to not catch Steve's illness.

"you're staring" (Y/n) said not even looking at him. She could feel his eyes on her backside, nothing new. He came up behind her wrapping his arms around her and kissing her shoulder and back of her neck.

"I'm going to change into my nightgown." She said pushing him away. " How about you make some tea? I'll be back"

-

When she came back in her night gown she found Bucky sitting on the couch legs spread in nothing but his pants and beer in his hand.

"I said tea"

He just smiled and waved her over. She came over sitting on his lap straddling him she took the beer from his hand took a swig and made a disgusted face he took it back. " Still don't like beer."

"Sorry," He said " we'll find something for you doll. Like that wine you liked." She wrapped her arms around his neck. Kissing his cheek.

"I don't need alcohol." (y/n) said running her fingers through his hair. He put the beer out the coffee table and put his hands on her hips. "We need to go to sleep"

"I know" he said as he started kissing and nibbling on her neck.

"you've got work tomorrow" he pulled her hips closer. Putting her on his growing bulge.

"I Know" he groaned. Pulling up her night gown and found no underwear.

"I've got school tomorrow" she moans as she rocks her hips. He slips his hands under her gown and grasping her breast. " We need to sleep."

"do you really want to sleep?" he asked pulling his hands from under her dress.

She sighed leaning her forehead against his " No," she said.

Bucky bit her bottom lip. "You sure?" he asked smirked.

"yeah,"

And in one fell swoop her nightgown was gone leaving her naked and in Bucky's lap. This was not what she was expecting and he could see that on her face.

"Sorry, should have asked." He moved to put her gown back on but she stopped him.

"Can we deem the lights?" she asked. He nodded letting her off his lap and moving to turn off the lights, leaving only a lamp. When he comes back she has wrapped a blanket around herself looking down the hallway towards Steve's room.

"we can stop here. We can go to sleep." she looked to him and shakes her head. He leans down kissing her forehead.

"I can be quiet" she whispers sitting up on her knees. He kissed letting his tongue slip into her mouth, tasting her. He picks her up letting her wrap her legs around him. She moaned as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. And flinched as she felt his fingers touched her other lips.

"Fuck" she cursed as she felt him insert his fingers. She hissed as he started to pump his fingers. As he stood in the middle of the room he was the only things she could hold on to. So, she pulled his hair and clawed his back. And he groaned all the while.

She whimpered biting into his neck as she climbed to her climax but before she could reach it. He pulled away. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom.

"Aren't you an Aces. Planned all of this."

"No, but always prepared."

She giggled as he dropped her onto the couch. (y/n) watched as he shimmed off his pants. He was bigger than Stevie. Watched as he slipped on the condom with the skillset of someone who has done it many times before. Bucky leans over her, grabbing the back of the couch. Pulling her legs around his waist.

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah," she said, lifting her hips toward him.

He didn't waste any time after that. She bit her lip as he pushed in the tip. He reached down, grabbing her hip as he pushed in further. As she began to moan loudly, he pulled her into a kiss to silence her. She moans into the kiss as he bottoms out. He pulls away and asks

"Are you okay?" She just nods and pulls him closer. " You gotta say something, doll."

She moans, " Good, good."

"Good?" he spoke as he slowly began to thrust into her.

"So good." she whimpered.

(Y/n) gasps as he changes their position, putting her on her back and a leg on his shoulder. She moans as he goes in deeper, leaning over her.

Bucky groaned as her walls tightened around him. He leans down, kissing her as he starts to thrust inside of her. With his mouth covering hers the only sound heard the sound of skin slapping the wet sound of him pounding into her. It echos through out the room. (Y/n) is sure the neighbors could hear.

Bucky pulled away from the kiss putting his head into her shoulder his thrust soon became slobby and started to slow down. He cursed as her walls clenched down on him. He could now understand why Steve had cum so quickly, Her pussy was fucking fantastic, He was trying his best not to follow the example of the smaller man trying to last longer give her pleasure first.

Reaching in between them he found her clit and began to rub it gently. (Y/n) bite her lip trying her best to hide her moans.

"Let me hear you, come on make noise for me." and she did moaning out breathlessly. As she dug her nails into his back arching into his touch. "Go on cum for me love, please cum for me."

"B-Bucky, oh Bucky" she moaned out as she felt her self reach that edge.She cried out as cum shaking underneath him. Bucky was quick to follow filling his condom.

As they caught their breathes Bucky put her leg down and flipped them over so she was on his chest.

"I love you" she mumbled into his chest.

"I love you too."

-

[itsa-me-lily]

Here is the Master Playlist for MPS AU

Here is Simon & Thimble playlist

Note;

This takes place early on in your marriage to Simon. So way before Baker or anything. Also I actually googled something about COD for this, look at my growth

Content warning;

Mom feelings, just a lot of mom feelings, crying, poor humor from Simon right out the gate

Some days it'd be nice if terrorists could actually be useful and be a great reason to get out of meeting the in-laws. Just a small attack somewhere, an empty building being blown up, no one had to get hurt. And given the colorful threat you had told Simon, the terrorists might have been nicer. At least they wouldn't have him vacuuming the same damn rug for the third time. Though given how you had spent the last hour and a half simultaneously power cleaning and winding yourself up for a possible heart attack, it wasn't like you were just lounging around eat bonbons.

Simon could almost understand the anxiety. He had never had to worry about it before, but he could recall a frazzled phone call with Tommy the first time he was going to meet Beth's parents. That he had been worried about being deemed not good enough. Simon at least knew that deep down he wasn't really good enough for you. Too much blood and violence in him. But as long as you were around he'd at least pretend to be alright. And if being alright meant over vacuuming an area rug well, he was trying to be a good husband.

Being a good husband probably meant he wasn't suppose to find it a little entertaining how you froze and looked at your phone like it was a live bomb. But after having to deal with actual live bombs, the way your eyes got big at the ringing electronic rectangle was a little silly. He watched as you answered the phone with all the seriousness of a man going to the gallows, fingers tapping against the kitchen table like you needed to channel your energy elsewhere. You didn't say a whole lot, and after you hung up you looked at Simon as if the end of the world was coming.

"She's here a half hour early."

Oh. Yeah that would probably explain the expression on your face. You had lost thirty minutes of compulsive cleaning of your tiny home that was already pretty damn clean. And as if to harken the end of times the dryer unit that had been crammed into a utility closet loudly declared itself done, the towels you had deemed needed a wash now dry and fluffy.

You looked...stuck. As if you were trying to pull yourself in two opposite directions and the force of it meant you weren't moving anywhere. Simon recalled that you had explained it once, when he had caught you staring at five different projects one evening. That having so many choices stunned you because you couldn't decide what to do first. Seemed like you were stuck between your mother and some towels. Truly a rock and a hard place. But again, Simon was at least attempting to be a good husband. He'd deal with the hard place.

"Go get your mum. I'll handle the towels."

He watched as you nodded, the deep inhale you took becoming a deeper sigh as you seemed to finally deflate a little, coming back into yourself more.

"Right. Thanks uh...you can-"

"I'll hang out some new ones in the washroom and fold the rest. Get going so she isn't stuck at the gate for longer."

With that it seemed that you were finally free to actually head out the front door. Honestly it was one woman. How bad could it be?

Those were famous last words. He had finished up the towels and had been setting the kettle on the stove when you had returned with your mother. Simon could see the family resemblance. It wasn't in the body build, your mother was taller and a little slimmer, but you both had the same arch to your eyebrows, the same round cheeks, and the same personality. It only took one look at Simon for it to start.

"What's with the face mask?"

Oh god. Fuck, if the earth could split in two and swallow you it would have been a god send. Yes you could recognize that maybe explaining the situation, you know the whole you were now married thing, before she had decided to come visit you would have for the best. But that would have meant having an entire conversation with your mother about why you had even signed up for the stupid program in the first place, why you didn't think it was going to amount to anything anyways, and why you went through with it. Which honestly you could answer the first two parts of that, you could. It was the last part that kind of left you spinning your wheels, and you didn't really care to explore it on a deeper level.

So here you were, in your front hall/kitchen/living room area with your mother questioning your technically husband, about why he was wearing a face mask that covered half his face. This was fine. Before Simon could respond you were stepping in, really unsure what was going to come out of Simon's mouth.

"Mom this is Simon. He um-He's not feeling a hundred percent and he didn't want to get you sick."

You could lie better than that. You knew you could lie better than that. You knew your mother knew you could lie better than that. Thankfully Simon didn't throw you under the bus and instead went with it, clearing his throat and responding in what you think was him trying for a sick voice.

"Would hate for ya to catch what I got ma'am."

You could tell your mom didn't believe any of it, but she didn't argue with it. Instead she let you show her around the house, humming in approval of how tidy it was. You were happy to note that Simon had chose to hang up the nicer towels in the wash. An hour and a half of anxiety cleaning paid off. It wasn't until you were showing her the bedroom that you mom closed the door behind her, turning to fix you with the stare, arms crossed over her chest and everything.

"Alright cut the bullshit. What is going on here?"

Oh the jig was up. You both knew it, but just like the time when you were ten and you had decided to give yourself a truly terrible haircut, you tried to pretend that nothing was wrong.

"Mom, I don't know what you're-"

"Since when are you Mrs. Riley?"

Fuuuuuck. Busted by the gate guards and they didn't even know it. Clearing your throat you tried so hard not to scratch the back of your neck or fiddle with your hair, or do any of the other tells your mother had watched you develop. It was hard, so was trying to think of another lie to get yourself out of the situation. You would have made a terrible spy.

"So...I kind of got married?"

"What?"

What were you supposed to do when you were faced with the mom stare. It was practically patented to make you spill your guts. And so it all came stumbling out. How your college best friend had told you about this matchmaking program she wanted to try but was too nervous too. How you decided you'd sign up with her for moral support because honestly you didn't expect to be anyone's cup of tea, it'd be something to laugh over later. And then how apparently you were someone's cup. You chalked up agreeing to benefits, and weren't going to touch any other reasons.

By the time you were done you had seated yourself at the end of the bed, hands motioning into the air like it would further explain yourself. It did not if you were to judge by the unimpressed look on your mother's face.

"I swear to god I raised you with more common sense than this."

"Mom-"

"If Dovey were to throw herself off a bridge would you?"

"That's not fair-"

"Isn't it? Why would you sign up for this just because she doesn't have-"

"Don't fucking even Mom."

You didn't mean to curse at your mother, you really didn't but there were things you weren't okay with your mom just simply assuming. Dovey was one of them.

"You've met her parents mom, they are that bad. She's my best friend and she was there when I got diagnosed, so yeah I'm going to be there for her in this stupid idea."

It seemed your mother hadn't expected you to curse or be as passionate as you were. She looked a little shocked, then a little hurt before she sighed, shoulders slumping a little as she came to sit next to you. You lowered yourself back to the bed, unaware that you had even stood up to shout at her.

You both sat there in silence for a moment, as if trying to find the right word to say. Sure the two of you had your spats over the years, but it was always just the two of you, and eventually you always found a way back to center with each other. It was just a stumbling process sometimes. You were both awkward like that.

"I know Dovey is important to you-"

"Mom-"

"But, you're my baby, and you're important to me. And this idea of you marrying a stranger? Honey that's terrifying. Especially since you didn't even tell me you were doing this."

She was right, and you knew she was right. You had tried to talk Dovey out of it before, with a laundry list of ways it could all go wrong. Hell it could still go terribly wrong for you, you had only known Simon for a few months. You felt your eyes burn a little, a wave of sudden guilt washing over you for scaring your mom.

"I know...and I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I just...I don't know what I'm doing...And I don't want to bother you with my stuff..."

"Baby. I signed up for a lifetime of being bothered by your stuff the second I knew I was having you."

You loved your mom so much, and a part of you had been terrified that she'd be disappointed in what you had done with your life. That she'd realize she had done the whole single mother thing for a waste.

You couldn't help the sniffle, you really couldn't. Thankfully your mother didn't say anything, instead pulling you into a hug where you could wrap your arms around her and just hold on. The two of you sat like that for a while, both of you ignoring sniffles and some stray tears. It was so nice to be held like this again. Like nothing bad could get you because you were with your mom. After a while though she pulled back, wiping at her face while you did the same with your own.

"He doesn't hurt you or anything right?"

It took you a moment to figure out who she was talking about.

"Simon? No, no he doesn't."

"And he doesn't force you to.."

Explaining your lack of sex life to your mother was probably about as awkward as your mother trying to give you the sex talk when you were twelve but you did manage to get through it. At least your mom seemed to approve of the separate bed.

"And you're sure he's not a serial killer with the whole..."

She motioned to her face, indicating Simon's face mask thing. The idea made you laugh. Not because you didn't think Simon was a serial killer, jury was still out on that one. But because the two of you had pretty much had the same train of thought.

"Pretty sure he's not. At least I don't think so."

"Well call me if you find a body in the freezer."

"We'd need a freezer big enough first."

Your mom made a face at that, and you both chuckled. The house was tiny, but so far it was shaping up to be an okay home. With a soft look on her face she brushed her thumb against your cheek.

"But really, don't hesitate to call me if something happens okay? I love you."

You felt your chest hurt with how much love you felt in that moment, throat getting choked up all over again.

"I love you too Mom."

Simon stood outside the bedroom door, not meaning to eavesdrop but well...the house was only so big. Plus when he heard you shout it had made some part of his brain light up with the urge to check if you were alright. From the sounds of it, you were at least. So for now he'd let you two have your moment.

He could wait to ask what kind of tea your mum wanted.

Edit;

I love my mom so much, so yes writing this did make me cry a little. Also in my head Thimble's mom has been dubbed Mama Pincushion.

[bazpire]

When you give a mouse a cookie

(or when you give a mutt your hole)

Cw: filthy smut w/ little to no plot, dom/sub dynamic, bottom Baaabe, top Asher, gender neutral Baaabe, puppy play (-ish), slight degradation, praise, breeding, edging.

(Edited in cause I forgot lmao sorry) Taglist: Both: @indigo-greer-collins @ch3zzz @kxemii @darlin-collins @plutocries @ambrose-mp4 @elles-roses

"Do you promise to be good?" Baaabe asked harshly, tugging their mate's leash.

Asher whined and pawed at their thigh. "Yes, yes, yes! I promise, I swear, please..."

"Hm," they tilted their head. "Really? Cause last time you were a dick."

"I promise, babe, please!" He borderline shouted. His cruel, beautiful partner had been teasing him all week with letting him top, alongside edging him and leaving him to take care of himself, never allowing him to even cum on their hand. He felt like his brain was on fire, and he'd probably cry if they didn't let him fuck them, or at least make him cum with their body.

They giggled while looking down at him. "Alright, alright, no need to get all fuzzy." They laid down on the bed, guiding him with the leash to get on top of them. "You wanna please your mate, don't you? You wanna make me feel good?"

Asher was salivating at the thought. "Yes, yes, I do. Please, babe."

"Mhm? You gonna fill me up and make me cum?" They asked lasciviously, looking up at him through their eyelashes. Even when below him, they were in full control, toying with his leash and moving him around exactly like they wanted him to.

"Yes, I will, babe, please, let me..." he pressed himself against their entrance.

"Go right on ahead, puppy. You've earned it." He pushed inside of them as soon as he was allowed to, gaining a low groan out of them, himself whining in relief.

"Fuck, yes, finally. Fuck, you feel so good, feel so good, babe, God!" He started moving, hugging around their shoulders and trying to get deeper.

"Oh fuck, Ash, gentle, gentle, gentle, fuck!" They tugged on his leash, pulling him away. He cried out. "What the royal fuck did I just said? Do you want me to put you in a cage the next week? Jesus..."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, babe, did I hurt you?" He rushed over to them, alarmed and worried.

"I'm fine, just... God damn it, Ash, what did I just say? Fucking gentle."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry, I got carried away."

They sighed, laying back down and guiding him back on top of them. "Do you... do you still want to?" He asked them, still fussing over them.

"Of course I do, that's why I'm putting you back in, but this time I'm guiding. Plus, God knows what bullshit you pull if I make you wait another week." They didn't let him answer, as their fingers were immediately on his dick, guiding him into them.

Once fully inside, he started grinding, waiting for them to say that it was okay to move.

"Ah, Ash, fuck, you're so deep, go slow."

And so he did.

For about five seconds.

"Ah, ah, baaabe, can I go faster? Please? Please?" He licked and sucked all over their neck and chest, coating them with his drool and making them sigh in pleasure. "Please, please, pleaaaase let me speed up, I wanna make you feel good, wanna fuck you so so good."

"Fuck, fuck, Ash, you can go a little bit faster."

And that was them basically signing up for their demise, because as soon as he was allowed, he was drilling into them.

"Fuck, yes! Feels so good, you feel so good, babe, wanna fuck you so good, wanna breed, breed, I wanna breed you so badly"

"Ah, ah, ah, Asher- Ash! Oh my fucking god, it's so much, so good, fuck!"

He grabbed them by the back of their knees, pushing their legs up into their chest and thrusting even deeper, the quick pace never faltering. The pleasure was too much, their mind was in a haze where all they could see, all they could smell, all they could feel was their lover hitting every sensitive spot inside them. It was so much. They dropped the leash and grabbed onto him, wrapping their arms around him and clawing at his back.

"Ah- ah, Ash, please, slow down, I'm getting close."

"I can't, I can't, I can't, babe, I need to breed you, I need you to cum all over my dick, I need your scent all over me, please, please, please, I'll do anything, I'll make you cum as many times as you want, just let me fill you up, baby." He panted against their ear, licking and biting their sensitive earlobe, making them tighten around him.

Baaabe arched their back off of the bed, clawing at the bedsheets and shouting as they raptured. "Ash, Ash, yes, I'm cumming, cumming all over you." They grabbed his shoulders, pulling him in as close as possible with their legs on the way. "Cum, cum, cum in me, breed me, fucking claim your mate."

And without letting them wait for too long, Asher spilt inside them, coating their insides white and whining out in pleasure.

They stayed like that, panting and basking in their afterglow, enjoying each other's closeness.

That is, until Baaabe came back to their senses.

"Ash, you fucking asshole, I'm never letting you top again."

[bobalegsanji]

Are you there?

‘’This didn’t happen.’’

‘’It did, and we’re going to talk about it,’’ Zoro says, not caring about what Sanji has to say. ‘’You’re not doing well, and we’re going to fix it.’’

Sanji sighs. He’s still leaning on Zoro, he desperately needs Zoro’s steadiness as his feet occasionally trip over one another. ‘’I’m doing just fine,’’ he responds, barely audible.

Modern Zosan AU. Fluff/Angst. Words: 11,824.

Trigger Warnings: disordered eating, anxiety/panic attacks, depression, self-worth issues.

One Piece Masterlist

‘’Cook?!’’

‘’Hmm,’’ Sanji responds softly, not fully awake yet.

‘’Cook?!!’’ Zoro’s words are accompanied by a loud slam.

Sanji peeks one eye open, annoyed at being woken up. The mossball knows he’s not supposed to slam the door of the living room. There’s a table right behind, and if slammed too hard, Usopp’s botanical books always fall over and - he feels his pulse rise with annoyance once more. 

Once he realises there’s nothing important coming from Zoro’s mouth (when is there ever?), he closes his eyes again and makes himself comfortable on the pillows on the couch.

‘’Cook, are you deaf?’’

‘’Hmmmmmm,’’ Sanji whines. ‘’Whaddyawant,’’ the pile of pillows and blankets murmurs. 

‘’Is dinner ready yet?’’ Zoro asks, his question assisted with a poke that lands somewhere between Sanji’s ribs.

‘’Ugh, fuck you,’’ Sanji reacts, immediately sitting up. ‘’Why would you ever do that?’’

Zoro shrugs his shoulders. ‘’Be awake when I talk to you.’’

‘’What do you-’’ Sanji starts, unsure of how to put all of his feelings of anger into one sentence while his head’s still fuzzy with sleep. ‘’What the fuck do you-No?? I was sleeping?’’

‘’And I’m hungry,’’ Zoro responds.

Sanji stares at him for a couple of seconds. He’s been living with his best friends for over a year, yet they still find new ways to piss him off daily.

‘’I’m going to say this once, very slowly, so your dumb head can follow me, alright?’’ He says calmly. ‘’Fuck off.’’

Zoro just rolls his eyes. His hand stretches to get ready for another poke, but Sanji slaps it with a pillow before he can reach him. ‘’I’m serious, order something. Or not, don’t eat, I don’t care.’’ 

He ignores the confused look in Zoro’s eyes, instead picks up the comfiest blanket he’d been sleeping under to take to his room. 

Before he can get out of the living room, Zoro finds his words. ‘’But… It’s Tuesday? You never let us order food on weekdays?’’

Without missing a step, Sanji responds. ‘’I’m tired, figure it out yourself today.’’

Zoro is left to stare at the empty living room, the couch still messy from Sanji’s nap. A bedroom door slams closed somewhere upstairs. 

Sanji never leaves the shared places messy. Or takes naps during the day.

-

-

‘’Food!’’ Luffy screams loudly throughout the house.

Sanji could curse him right now, even though he knows Luffy’s just excited at getting to eat junk food on a weekday. Usually, he cooks every day. The last time he hasn’t must’ve been during finals, which was months ago. 

He sighs deeply, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and mentally preparing himself for the dinner he’s about to have. It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk to them - it’s just that he’s been feeling a migraine coming up since morning, he hasn’t had an appetite all day, and no matter how much he sleeps it doesn’t seem to recharge his empty social battery. It’s exhausting, even more so to try and not bite Zoro’s head off right now. Usually, he can keep his annoyances in check, but today? Not a chance.

‘’Sanji, Usopp, dinner!’’ Nami’s voice echoes through the house. He can ignore Luffy for a few minutes, but never his beautiful Nami. 

‘’Coming, my sweet,’’ he calls after her, unsure if it’s loud enough for her to hear. Based on the loud chattering and clinking of silverware in the kitchen, they don’t care, anyway.

Before he leaves his bedroom, he takes a quick look in the mirror. Embarrassedly, he immediately takes off his shirt. How long have I been wearing this? Since Sunday morning?

It’s not something anyone else would bat an eye at, or even notice, but it’s not something he usually does. Shirts are for during the day, pajamas for during the night, and they are worn a maximum of two days- Sanji sighs, putting on a new shirt and promising himself to take it off before sleeping.

It hasn’t been this bad ever since they got to live together. He can’t spiral now, he can’t let them see . 

A knock on the door brings him out of his thoughts. 

‘’Are you downstairs?’’ Usopp’s voice travels through the door.

‘’Yea, no- no,’’ Sanji falls over his words. He opens the door, suddenly happy to have some distraction. ‘’I needed to get changed.’’

Usopp looks him up and down for a moment. ‘’Okay… I just wanted to check if you were here.’’

‘’Ahh…’’ Sanji feels a blush spread on his cheeks. ‘’Yea, I just… Never mind.’’

Usopp takes a moment to study his face, but quickly seems to find what he’s looking for. ‘’Let’s go, I think they ordered pizza. Don’t want Luffy to finish everything before we even got a slice.’’

Sanji nods as he follows Usopp downstairs. 

He’s going to be fine. He’s going to eat, get a good night’s sleep, and turn this whatever-is-going-on around. He’ll be fine.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

The outside air leaves a noticeable blush on Sanji’s cheeks. In the mirror, he sees nothing but pale skin and a red nose. He feels numb, both from the cold and his recent lack of enthusiasm to do anything. 

The day wasn’t bad- a morning lecture at 11 always gives him enough time to cook a proper breakfast (at least, that’s what he’d usually do. Today, Sanji woke up way too late, having to rush to be on time without any food). On the third Thursday of the month, the local market is always  bigger than usual. Usually, he’d spend at least an hour strolling through the market covering multiple streets. It’s relaxing to taste new and common foods, to buy local ingredients for the house, and to plan meals for their household: today, he merely rushed past it. Not even the seafood stall was worth a glance at. 

Quietly, he takes off his shoes and jacket, putting all the items in their respective places. Even though the time for lunch has been long past, and he hasn’t eaten anything all day, the idea of preparing or eating food makes his stomach churn. 

He takes one last look in the mirror. It’s not like he needs to eat, anyway. He knows the occasional joking remarks of Luffy and Usopp are exactly that, jokes, but maybe they’re onto something. He could lose a little weight. 

He pinches his cheeks, noticing the way they’re definitely chubbier than they used to be. It’s not the end of the world to skip lunch. Someone will take care of dinner, and he’ll eat that, but right now he’d rather go to his bedroom to recharge his social battery. It’ll be fine. As long as no one notices, it’ll be fine. 

‘’Sanji-kun, are you home?’’ Nami’s sweet voice strolls in from the living room. 

‘’My sweet,’’ he immediately swoons, trying hard to imitate the happy tone of speech reserved for his favourite ladies. 

Nami’s sitting on the couch, cross-legged with a book perched up on her legs. Her eyes light up when she sees him standing in the doorway. ‘’Do you have plans tonight?’’

‘’Well-’’ Sanji starts, but gets interrupted immediately.

‘’I need a ride to the cinema tonight, could you…?’’ She bats her eyes, knowing exactly what she’s doing to his heart.

Or, usually does to his heart. Today, Sanji notices, but he doesn’t feel anything. Nothing seemed to penetrate the armour of melancholy that had wrapped its way around his heart. 

He forces a smile. Even though he’s not feeling his best, he could never let Nami down. ‘’Of course, what time would you like to leave?’’

‘’You’re the best!’’ She smiles, jumping up to give him a hug. Her book falls to the ground. Sanji keeps his eyes trained on it until Nami pulls her arms back, and he feels the cold air of the room engulf him once more. He hadn’t realised how warm she was. ‘’I want to leave at 6, but you should come with me! Perona is going to be there, too. She’s been asking about you,’’ she winks.

Sanji feels a slight blush creep up his cheeks. ‘’Oh, I can’t tonight, my love. Maybe next time?’’ 

Nami’s face immediately falls into a frown. She opens her mouth to say something, but gets interrupted by a voice from the kitchen before she can make a sound.

‘’What you gonna do?’’ Zoro’s leaning against the wall, half-eaten apple in hand. He takes a bite, staring down at Sanji as if to dare him to answer.

Sanji feels his heartbeat quicken. ‘’What’s it to you?’’

‘’Just wondering.’’ Zoro shrugs his shoulders, eyes never leaving Sanji’s.

Sanji clicks his tongue. ‘’Not that it’s any of your business, M arimo ,’’ he bites. ‘’I’ve had class all day, and need to cook for your sorry ass because you can’t even turn on a toaster. Plus, I have a presentation in a couple of days, so I need to work on that.’’ The moment the words leave his mouth, he knows he’s made a mistake. He really wants to lie in bed, smoke half a pack of cigarettes, and watch Youtube videos until he falls asleep- but now? Dinner falls on him. Again. 

‘’Ehh.’’ Just the sight of Zoro’s smirk is enough to get Sanji’s blood boiling, but of course the idiot has to talk too. ‘’Playing kitchen princess tonight? What are you gonna make for me?’’

‘’For you, absolutely nothing,’’ Sanji bites. ‘’You act like I’m not the sole reason you’ve had food on the table for the past year.’’

‘’Actually.’’ Zoro takes a pause to bite into his apple. ‘’You’ve been living here for 14 months. And who earns more money? Is it you or me, princess ?’’

‘’The only reason you earn so much is that you’re too dumb to study and actually have enough time on your hands to work.’’ Sanji can’t help but roll his eyes. Zoro really knows how to get under his skin. ‘’Anyway, I have to take care of Nami tonight, so I need to get started on cooking. You can let me do my job, or I’ll make you a chocolate cake for dinner. And believe me, it’ll be extra, extra sweet, just for you.’’

Zoro looks him up and down, but doesn’t go against him. ‘’Fine,’’ he mutters, throwing the remains of the apple core towards Sanji. ‘’Throw this away for me, will you?’’

Automatically, Sanji catches it, before realising what he has just caught. ‘’You disgusting, mannerless brute!’’ He screams, ‘’are you genuinely deranged? What if it had hit our dear Nami-san?’’

It doesn’t matter. Zoro has turned around already and left to do whatever it is he does all day. When Sanji turns around, he finds Nami sitting on the couch with her book again. 

He sighs.

He’s more to them than a chore boy. They love him, he knows that. Nami doesn’t love him simply because he’d do anything for her, and the others don’t simply love him because he cooks for them without complaint. 

He knows it’s not true, but sometimes, he can’t quieten his thoughts.

After fully accepting that Nami isn’t going to pay him any further attention, he throws the apple core away and checks the kitchen cabinets for ingredients.

-

-

To the best of his abilities, Sanji quickly throws together a simple fried rice for the house. He forces himself to take a small bowl with him upstairs, finally ready to take a well-deserved rest. The fried rice is perfect, crispy and tasty and filling, yet it tastes like sand in his mouth. 

He doesn’t want to eat. Maybe, if he didn’t, he’d feel better. That’s quite possible, right? What if all the feelings of the past week have simply come from a poor diet, or from consuming too much food?

(He’s not even fooling himself, but the small bowl of rice is enough to trick himself into believing he’s fine. If he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have grabbed himself dinner, right?)

The people in the house can heat up their own dinner whenever they want. According to his calculations, Sanji has another hour before he even needs to get dressed to drive Nami to her destination, and he’s planning on making the absolute best of it.

In the end, he scrolls through any social media he can get his hands on for the whole hour. He’d love to sleep, but with having to drop Nami off so quickly, he can’t. The exhaustion of the day is starting to fully get to him. It feels like there’s a foggy cloud in his brain, dampening all his thoughts and making it hard to focus on anything. Social media isn’t helping. Seeing his friends, acquaintances and strangers being nothing but perfect makes it absolutely impossible not to compare himself to them. 

He knows it makes no sense. Of course, they’re not going to post the downsides of their lives, but he really, really can’t help it. Zoro’s pictures in the gym make his heart clench - he’s beautiful, his body is so perfect, meanwhile Sanji’s just… Sanji. He’s not special, or handsome, or even skinny enough. He doesn’t even have half of the muscles the Marimo has on him. 

Luffy is out every day with new friends, while Sanji has been feeling stuck in his room. He loves his friends, he really does, but he’s not entirely sure that they love him. But to be loved the way Luffy is being loved seems like a dream. He makes friends everywhere he goes, and never seems to second-guess anything, while Sanji seems to second-guess everything. It’s become hard to even go to the grocery store. Every outfit he puts on, every smile, every conversation he has, it feels forced and fake. 

Tears prick in Sanji’s for no apparent reason. He’s so tired, but he promised Nami his services, and he’d never let her down.

The drive to the cinema is short. Sanji’s not entirely sure if it’s safe for him to drive in this state, not with the way his mind is fogged and his heart is beating in his chest, but Nami doesn’t seem to notice. She rambles on about things Sanji couldn’t care less about. He chain-smokes out of the window, occasionally humming to at least seem interested in whatever Nami has to say. 

At their destination, Nami bats her eyes once more and pushes her top subtly lower while asking if Sanji could please pick her up again after the film ?

It takes a couple of seconds for the question to penetrate the fog in his mind. Sanji doesn’t want to. He’s never wanted to do anything less than this. The pit of anxiety in his stomach enlarges, until he feels like his lungs are caving in. He knows it goes against all his principles, but he really can’t be there for her tonight.

‘’I’m sorry, Nami-san,’’ Sanji says, not meeting her eyes. Mindlessly, he’s already turning the steering wheel without truly caring about her response. ‘’I can’t. Maybe Franky can pick you up, or something.’’

Nami stays quiet for a moment, before taking a step back and throwing the door closed. She smiles and waves him off, but Sanji can’t help but feel like he let her down. Like he’s a bad friend. Like she deserves better than him. Like they deserve better than him. 

He misses the way Nami immediately takes her phone out to call someone. Instead, tears fall from his eyes, and he’s barely able to see the road in front of him until he returns home. 

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

He’s just going to check up on him. It’s not that he’s worried, per se, it’s more that Nami’s worried. 

Not that Zoro really cares what she thinks. How weird could Sanji truly actually be acting? Of course, he noticed small things, but that’s understandable- he’s an idiot who takes everything to heart. Someone looking at him the wrong way could probably give him a mental breakdown. But Zoro’s sure that if something was actually wrong, like fundamentally, problematically wrong, Sanji would come to one of his friends.

They’ve known him for years . And sure, they don’t always see eye to eye, but Sanji must trust them enough at this point to come to them. After such a long friendship, he has to. 

Still, knocking on his bedroom door makes Zoro feel nervous. Sanji’s always protective of his space. Even though Zoro knows the room well.

When Sanji just moved in, he had a hard time sleeping. It’s not that he complained about it, but it was obvious. He’d wander through the kitchen all night, often falling asleep on the couch instead of his own bed. The house was very different from the apartment he shared with Zeff before. Once, late at night, he had told Zoro something neither of them would ever bring up again: the last time he’d slept alone in a room was at his father’s house. Zoro never pushed for details, and he’s quite certain no one else even knows about it, but suddenly, Zoro would spend his evenings in Sanji’s room. Usually they’d do their own thing: Sanji would do homework or lay in bed on his phone until he started to drift off to sleep. Zoro would find ways to entertain himself, watching shows or reading Sanji’s manga until he had drifted off, only to quietly move to his own room to sleep. The memories are dear to Zoro, even if it feels off to remember a bad time so fondly. It felt good to be so close to Sanji, even if his vulnerability was only for a short while.

The actual anxiety creeps in on Zoro once the knock doesn’t get a response.

Just the slightest bit worried, Zoro knocks again, much harder this time. A small groan can be heard from the other side of the door. Without waiting for a response, Zoro pushes open the door.

Sanji’s bedroom is… not as he expected.

There’s laundry laying around on the floor. His precious manga collection is scattered around the room, the display shelf basically empty. There’s dirty dishes on his nightstand and his desk. A full ashtray of empty cigarette stumps lay next to his bed, but there’s half-smoked cigarette butts on almost all dishes, too. It’s more cluttered than Zoro’s ever seen.

‘’Hey,’’ he says, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

Sanji’s bed head pokes out from under his duvet. His eyes are small, obviously thick with sleep. ‘’Huh?’’ he asks, sounding very confused and sleepy.

‘’Just wanted to check up on you.’’ Zoro doesn’t meet his eyes, unable to tear his eyes apart from the unfamiliar chaos in Sanji’s space.

‘’Huh?’’ Sanji asks again, not waiting for a response. His head hits the pillow again, making it hard for Zoro to look at him. 

‘’Nothing,’’ Zoro mutters. Maybe Nami was right to be worried, it’s unusual for Sanji to be in bed at this time, but he’s not sure how to bring it up. His thoughts go back to right before he went into the room. Sanji’s an adult, he’s able to take care of himself. If he needs help, he’ll ask for it.  

‘’Sleepy,’’ Sanji croaks softly. He turns around, his back now turned to Zoro. ‘’S cold.’’

‘’Do you want… Some tea? Or anything else?’’ Zoro hears the hesitation in his own voice. He’s thankful Sanji doesn’t respond, obviously having drifted off to sleep again, because he’s not sure what to make of this.

Quietly, he closes the door. Maybe Sanji’s just tired. Maybe he needs a good night’s sleep. Maybe tomorrow he’ll do a major cleaning, and it’ll be the first step in the right direction.

Zoro decides to keep a closer eye on Sanji until that happens.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Sanji’s annoyed. The music is way too loud and absolutely awful, the room is too hot and there’s so many people, he’s quite certain it’s a safety hazard, the alcohol is overpriced and bad ( what do you mean the only white wine you have is Ogio??). He hadn’t even really wanted to come in the first place, but his university friends demanded he’d come tonight and, honestly? He really did need a break, so he accepted. He’s not entirely sure of what it is he needs a break, but a night out drinking is supposed to take your mind off of other things, right?

Wrong, apparently. It took about 5 minutes for most of his friends to wander off somewhere without him, leaving him pathetic and alone at the bar with his very overpriced (and disgusting) beer. No way in hell is he going to drink Ogio, but neither the red nor white wine seemed acceptable to drink, so he has to make do. 

About half an hour ago, just when he expected the night couldn’t possibly get any worse, his eyes fell on a certain green-haired marimo on the other side of the room. 

At least he was decent enough to come over and ask why Sanji was sitting on his own. Even though he hadn’t said anything, the pity radiated off Zoro like heat. Maybe that’s why Sanji couldn’t possibly tell the truth, opting to lie and say ‘ ’my friends are actually outside, they should be back any minute. You can go back to whoever you came with, idiot, I don’t need your company.’’

His friends did, in fact, not come back. Kid has been trying to flirt (and very obviously failing) with a girl way out of his league somewhere in a corner, and Kaku has walked past the bar a couple of times- but besides them? Sanji has no idea where the others are.

He could leave right now. There’s no reason for him to stay, but the idea of returning home within an hour and a half after leaving their house to go clubbing is going to throw Usopp and Nami into a laughing fit so hard, he’d rather get drunk and sit in self-pity for one evening. 

The only problem is Zoro. He hasn’t bothered him any further, but if he’s paying attention, he might never live this night down. Zoro should be able to see him. Surely he’s paying attention to him, right? At least a bit?

Sanji moves his head slightly to the right. If he moves just right, he can catch a glimpse of the booth where Zoro and his friends are sitting and- Zoro’s back is to him. 

Annoyed, Sanji clicks his tongue. Really, the marimo isn’t even the least bit worried about him? Whatever. He flags down the bartender to order two more beers, one for himself and one for his misery, as he checks his phone for at least the 6th time in the last 10 minutes.

‘’Excuse me?’’ The small voice behind him is barely audible above the horrible 2000s music mix currently playing. ‘’You’re Sanji, right?’’

Shocked, the blond turns around. Behind him is one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever seen: her long, pink dress makes her figure look incredible, and her half-up-half-down blue hair is a stark contrast from everyone else in the room. She’s beautiful, Sanji can’t help but feel his pulse rise slightly. She’s exactly his type.

‘’Y-yes, I’m Sanji,’’ he cringes at the stutter, but keeps going. ‘’You look absolutely lovely, can I help you with anything?’’ Proud of making his voice steady again, he flashes his best smile at the lady in front of him

‘’I actually came over to talk to you,’’ she smiles sweetly, swiftly taking the empty bar stool next to him. ‘’Aren’t you going to ask my name, Sanji?’’ she smiles teasingly.

‘’Of- ofcourse.’’ He clenches his eyes out of embarrassment, before realising the situation and putting on a smile again. ‘’May I ask your name, and your order, my love?’’

‘’It’s Vivi,’’ she responds, lightly swinging her legs. She’s so cute, she’s too short to reach the ground . ‘’And I’d like a Moscow Mule, please.’’

Sanji raises his eyebrows at that. ‘’Alright, give me a moment,’’ he says while trying to raise the attention of the bar man, who’s trying very hard to get the attention of a very clearly uninterested girl on the other side of the bar.

‘’What?’’ Vivi asks. ‘’Something wrong?’’

‘’Of course not. I just didn’t take you for the vodka type, but whatever my lady desires, she gets,’’ Sanji responds smoothly, finally gaining the attention of the barkeeper. 

‘’I don’t like vodka,’’ Vivi laughs. ‘’I like ginger beer and lime, and tolerate the vodka.’’

After Sanji orders for her, he returns his attention to the goddess next to him. ‘’See, I can read you like a book, already.’’

The night turns out not to be so bad after all. Vivi is lovely, she’s sweet and easily reciprocates Sanji’s flirtations- but something feels off. 

It’s not like Sanji never takes women home. Quite the opposite, he’s had his fair share of temporary relationships and one-night stands, even while living together in a house with his 8 friends he’s gotten lucky. There’s nothing wrong with Vivi, either. She’s exactly what Sanji looks for in a girl: beautiful, smart, funny. Even if all she’d give him is a wink, he’d take that any day of the week, but tonight is different. 

He stumbles over his words, embarrassing himself after realising he lost concentration while she was talking. He drinks more than he’d like to cover up his embarrassment, which leads to more embarrassment. The loud noises and stuffiness of the room feel overwhelming, so much so that he doesn’t even really want to listen to her anymore. Honestly, all Sanji really wants right now is a smoke and his bed.

For a moment, he debates inviting Vivi to come outside with him so he can at least satiate one of his urges and hopefully refind some motivation to talk to her, but he decides against it. He doesn’t want to let her on when he’s clearly not in the mood for whatever she’s offering, whether it’s friendship, flirting or something else entirely - neither his head nor heart is in it, and he couldn’t knowingly take advantage of such a beautiful woman. Plus, he’s certain she’s noticed his standoffishness. All he can hope for is that she doesn’t think he’s not interested in her.

He kindly takes his leave with a sad excuse of feeling under the weather in hopes of rekindling his poor first impression later on. Luckily, Vivi really seems too sweet for her own good, because she asks for his phone number before he can even stand up. He gives her a kiss on the cheek as goodbye, and based on the slight blush on her face, she doesn’t mind. 

The walk outside is heinous. There’s too many people, and the night has formed a fogginess in Sanji’s mind that he can’t seem to break out of. Every time anyone touches him, he feels an electric shock go through his body. He keeps his eyes trained on the floor, ignoring everything around him to try and get outside as fast as possible. The quicker he has a cigarette between his teeth, the better.

With his hand finally on the doorknob of the front door, someone tightly grabs his shoulders. Sanji’s so frustrated at almost being out of this horrible situation, but being pulled back at the last moment, he groans loudly. 

‘’Cook?’’ Zoro asks behind him.

‘’Ugh,’’ Sanji scoffs, not bothering to turn around. ‘’If you want to talk to me, come outside. I’m not staying here a second longer.’’ He yells loudly over the music and people, quickly pushing open the door and disappearing outside.

He almost expected Zoro not to follow him at all, but as soon as the door falls closed, it opens again, with the bewildered, green-haired man walking outside. Before either of them can say anything, Sanji frantically searches his pockets for his cigarettes, until Zoro holds his pack in front of his face.

‘’I saw you left it at the bar,’’ Zoro says.

‘’Oh…’’ Sanji takes the package, thankful for not having lost it. ‘’Thanks. I didn’t know you could see me.’’

Zoro fidgets with his hands. ‘’Of course, I saw some of your friends around. They ditched you?’’

‘’Nah.’’ Sanji takes a deep drag of the cigarette, happy at finally having some nicotine in his lungs after multiple hours. ‘’We went out together. Just, everyone found something to do, you know?’’

‘’Hmmm.’’ Zoro obviously doesn’t believe him, but he doesn’t press further, and that’s enough for Sanji. ‘’Saw you sitting with Vivi.’’

Surprised, Sanji looks at Zoro. ‘’You know her?’’

Zoro nods. ‘’She’s really nice. And sweet. She was sitting with us, actually.’’ He takes a sharp inhale before he finishes, ‘’She saw you sitting there, so I told her a bit about you… That’s why she came over.’’

‘’Oh,’’ Sanji says, not sure how to feel about having Zoro as a wingman, basically. ‘’Yea, she’s beautiful. Really funny too, way wittier than you.’’ 

Zoro leans his back against the wall of the building, looking everywhere but at Sanji. If his fidgeting indicates he’s nervous, Sanji’s not going to feel bad. He doesn’t necessarily want to have a conversation with the Marimo about his love life, either. There’s nothing stopping him from just shutting up.

‘’But she’s not your type?’’

‘’Of course she’s my type!’’ Sanji remarks, possibly a bit too loud after the amount of alcohol he’s consumed. It probably hasn’t helped that he barely managed to eat anything today, his appetite has been reduced since certain insecurities have come up again. ‘’She’s adorable, sweet, hot, funny, smart, she might be an actual ange-’’

‘’Whatever, why didn’t you take her home then?’’ Zoro asks. ‘’She was basically lying at your feet, all you had to do was ask.’’

Sanji rolls his eyes. ‘’I’m not going to take a woman home on the first date, not that this was even a date, you idiot.’’

‘’Wouldn’t be the first time,’’ Zoro mutters.

Sanji has half a mind to slap Zoro across the face, but ultimately decides it’s not worth it to risk hurting his hands for such an idiot like him. 

‘’Whatever, it’s not your problem. I just wasn’t feeling it tonight.’’ Sanji responds, attention focused on the cigarette instead of the mossball. He’s annoyed at himself for not feeling up to talking to her, he’s never not wanted to talk to a beautiful woman, and he’s annoyed at Zoro for helping him.

‘’It is, actually. I sent her over to you because I thought you’d like her. Do you want me to…’’ Zoro sighs, unsure of how to phrase his question. ‘’Not send a woman over if they’re interested in you?’’

‘’What do you even mean?’’ Sanji asks. Having to talk about all of this with Zoro out of all people is making him so frustrated, he has to restrain himself from biting his cigarette in two. ‘’If someone’s interested in me, they can talk to me. I just wasn’t feeling it, that’s all.’’

‘’Yea, just, I’ve never seen you not into flirting with anyone?’’ It sounds more like a question than a statement. ‘’I mean, would you have been into it if it was a man? Because-’’

Sanji feels his cheeks flush immediately. ‘’That’s not the problem!’’

Zoro rolls his eyes, his voice immediately sounding more irritated. ‘’Are you seriously still awkward about this? I do not care if you like dick, and neither does anyone else.’’

Sanji sputters something incoherent, throwing his finished cigarette on the ground and pushing it out with the heel of his shoes. ‘’I’m not awkward about it!’’

‘’You look like a tomato.’’

‘’And you look stupid.’’

‘’That is a pathetic comeback, cook.’’

‘’I don’t care!’’ Sanji screams, but immediately realises he’s being very unreasonable here. Zoro’s trying to be nice, a rare occurrence, and he shouldn’t punish him for his own insecurities. ‘’It’s- no. It wouldn’t have mattered if it was a man. I’m just really tired today, so...’’ He quickly checks his phone, deciding that after 2 and a half hours, if he walks really slowly, he can return home, hopefully without being made fun of. ‘’I just want to go home.’’

Zoro nods, still not seemingly satisfied. ‘’So you are interested in Vivi? Because knowing her, she’s going to come over to me any minute to ask me.’’

Sanji’s quiet for a moment, twitching his feet uncomfortably. ‘’I am. I have her number, I’ll call her.’’

‘’ ‘Kay,’’ Zoro responds, pushing himself off the wall. ‘’I’ll go back then. Let me know when you’ve arrived home, okay?’’

Sanji nods, not meeting his eyes.

Zoro stills, something obviously holding him back.

‘’Look, do you want me to walk you home?’’

‘’No!’’ Sanji scoffs. ‘’I’m not a child!’’

‘’I know,’’ Zoro’s voice is soft. He takes a step closer, but changes his mind, and backs off again. ‘’I’m not saying that. I’m just saying, you’re drunk, and…’’ He scratches the back of his head. ‘’Don’t take this the wrong way, but lately you seem a little… off?’’

‘’I’m NOT off!!’’ Sanji explodes, angry at the implication. How dare Zoro say something like that? It’s based on absolutely nothing. ‘’I’m fine, you just can’t ever mind your own fucking business!’’

Somewhere, deep down, Sanji knows Zoro’s probably the friend that minds his own business the most.  

Zoro sighs. ‘’I told you not to take it the wrong way.’’

‘’I don’t care what you tell me, I don’t care about you! Just leave me alone for once!’’ He feels his heartbeat in his chest, arms, neck, everywhere. His throat clams up in a familiar way he hasn’t felt in almost 2 years, and suddenly the world is spinning spinning spinning .

‘’Cook-’’ Zoro starts, but Sanji cuts him off.

‘’Leave me alone,’’ he mutters quietly, not able to make his voice loud. He turns around, unsteady on his feet. He takes one step forward, but quickly has to hold himself up by planting one hand on the wall. There are too many emotions inside of him trying to overpower each other, and the dizziness makes it hard to breathe. The feeling of not getting enough air in his lungs hurts, and it doesn’t help that his thoughts are foggy and he’s lightheaded. 

‘’I’m not letting you go home on your own when you’re this upset,’’ Zoro says behind him, but Sanji doesn’t hear. He needs all his attention to stay upright and keep whatever is trying to overflow in his head at bay. ‘’How much did you even drink?’’

Sanji doesn’t respond. His eyes are closed, but he still feels the ground move beneath his feet. Bile is rising in his throat, and he’s certain he’s going to throw up. There are things moving in front of his eyes and suddenly, his knees hit the ground with such force it knocks the air out of him.

‘’Stop rejecting it,’’ Zoro says softly. Arms are pulling everywhere: on his shirt, hair, shoulder, the skin-on-skin contact makes Sanji feel like he’s burning.  

He feels his back hit the wall. His knees hurt, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling of tears burning in his eyes.

He whimpers softly, putting his head in his hands. This is not how he envisioned the night going.

‘’Just breathe, you’re going to be fine,’’ Zoro says. His voice sounds far away, but Sanji registers the body heat he radiates from one side of his body. It’s overwhelming, he tries to shuffle away from it, but Zoro refuses, pulling him back by putting his arm around his shoulder. ‘’Just stay here.’’

Sanji doesn’t respond. He lets himself ride the waves of anxiety that pass through him, embarrassed every time his body shivers involuntarily. Zoro’s kind enough not to say anything about it. Occasionally, he shushes Sanji when his whimpers get too loud. ‘’It’s okay, just let it happen.’’

The hand moving through his hair helps steady him somewhat, but it still takes an embarrassingly long time for Sanji’s breathing to go back to normal. 

After a while, Zoro nudges him softly. ‘’You still with me?’’

Unsure of how to respond, Sanji hides his face in Zoro's arm. He’s definitely not thinking straight, but at least Zoro doesn’t comment on it. 

‘’It’s getting cold, let’s get you home,’’ Zoro says after a while, taking his arm back and slowly standing up. Sanji whines at the loss of warmth. He hadn’t realised how much he missed physical contact.

‘’Come on, cook,’’ Zoro tries again, offering his hand to help Sanji stand up. He stares at the outstretched hand in front of him for a moment before accepting. 

Standing upright feels strange. His centre of gravity is off, and suddenly the exhaustion, lack of food and alcohol has gotten to his head. ‘’Y-you can’t...’’ His voice wavers. He cringes at the sound, it doesn’t even sound like him. ‘’You can’t tell anyone.’’

Zoro stares so intensely in his eyes, Sanji has to look away. He shakingly tries to take the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, but drops it before he can take one out. 

Zoro picks them up without a word. He takes one out, offering it to Sanji. Sanji barely reacts, just lets Zoro place one on his lips. Zoro waits a second to see his reaction, but when Sanji still doesn’t move, he carefully takes the lighter out of Sanji’s pocket to help him light it.

Sanji inhales shakily, one arm heavily leaning on the green-haired man while holding the cigarette with the other. They don’t talk. Zoro quietly directs them on their way home. Once they’re almost there, Sanji starts talking again. ‘’This didn’t happen.’’

‘’It did, and we’re going to talk about it,’’ Zoro says, not caring about what Sanji has to say. ‘’You’re not doing well, and we’re going to fix it.’’

Sanji sighs. He’s still leaning on Zoro, he desperately needs Zoro’s steadiness as his feet occasionally trip over one another. ‘’I’m doing just fine,’’ he responds, barely audible.

‘’This is fine?’’ Zoro asks sarcastically. ‘’I know you’re an idiot, but I didn’t know you were this big of an idiot.’’

‘’You don’t know anything.’’

‘’I know that this,’’ Zoro uses his free hand to wave in the general direction of the blond, ‘’is not normal.’’

Sanji scoffs. ‘’I’ve had panic attacks since I was twelve, and you should know that. You’re supposed to know that, as my friend.’’ If he was thinking a bit more clearly, Sanji might’ve been embarrassed at the blatant rudeness, but he has no other choice. He needs to get Zoro off his back. Zoro doesn’t understand. None of their friends understand.

He feels helpless, has felt helpless for months . No one cared when he started to lock himself in his own bedroom. No one cared when he started to withdraw himself, or started to smile less, or started to skip meals. So why should he care about Zoro’s feelings? He obviously doesn’t care about him anymore.

Suddenly, Sanji feels immature. How had he not realised this before? It’s not Zoro’s fault, Sanji’s the fool for getting hung up on a friendship that is falling apart at the seams. They don’t like him anymore. The signs have been everywhere, and Sanji has been ignoring them on a childish whim. The fairy tale in his head of ‘having best friends.’ The only reason Zoro suddenly seems to care is because he’s become a problem. 

The realisation makes Sanji’s heart sink. Is that what he turned into? A problem? Before all of this, at least he’d been useful - cooking and cleaning and doing favours for his friends whenever possible, but lately he’s been nothing but a disappointment. He messed up Zoro’s night out, he’s been messing up dinners and house dynamics and… Maybe that’s why Zoro now worries about him, or acts to, at least. Because this ‘problem’ he’s having is affecting them. 

Sanji’s a liability. Useless. Useless. Useless. Stupid. Worthless. They don’t care about your pain. They care about the issues you cause them.

‘’Of course I know that, idiot. I also know you haven’t had them in years, so don’t act all high and mighty with me, now,’’ Zoro says, annoyed. His patience is running thin. He’s been giving Sanji space and time, expecting him to, at some point, finally come to him. ‘’I do know you, you know I know you, so shut the fuck up and tell me about what’s been going on with you.’’ 

Instead, Sanji physically pushes him away. ‘’Get the fuck away from me,’’ he growls. He’s still standing, but his legs tremble dangerously. The look in his eyes is so full of anger, Zoro’s not sure if he should touch him right now. 

Sanji doesn’t care about his hesitance. ‘’You don’t care! You never care about me! You only care about the shit I always do for you because I want you to fucking like me for who I am!’’ 

‘’Haaah?’’ 

Sanji’s head drops, but he immediately looks up again. His eyes don’t leave Zoro’s as he talks. ‘’I fucking hate you, you know that?’’

‘’What are you yapping about now?’’ Zoro tries to get his voice under control, but it’s so hard with the way the cook’s behaving right now. How hard does he have to try until that dumb idiot finally accepts help? 

Zoro takes a step closer to Sanji. He stretches his arm out, intending to steady Sanji, who’s swaying dangerously on his legs. Instead, Sanji slaps him across the face, hard.

Zoro stares in disbelief for a couple of seconds. He brings his hand to his face, feeling the tender spot that is definitely going to be bruised tomorrow. ‘’What is your fucking problem?’’ He screams angrily.

‘’You are!’’ Sanji screams back. ‘’How often do I have to repeat that I want nothing to do with you? I hate you!’’ He takes a deep breath, only to continue his verbal abuse. ‘’I don’t care about you, I don’t want to talk to you, I wish I had never even met you!’’

Zoro doesn’t know how to respond. His face hurts, but it’s nothing compared to the way he physically feels his heart break.

‘’Leave me alone,’’ Sanji mutters angrily. He sways on his feet, but stubbornly walks towards their house.

Zoro lets him. He quietly watches him reach their house, clumsily mess with the key until the door opens, and doesn't move until the front door slams shut again.

Neither sees each other's tears fall.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Sanji doesn’t leave his bedroom the next day. Zoro and Robin have knocked on his door to ask him to come out, but he’s ignored both of them. He knows where he stands in their minds now, and he’s not ready to face them. Not when he knows how they see him: as something to use, probably not even a person.

He smokes a lot, grateful for the window next to his bed. The nicotine keeps him agitated and unable to fall asleep. His head hurts, and the hunger pangs from not having eaten are hard to ignore, but it feels good. Like he’s accomplishing something. Like he’s punishing himself for believing he’s worth something. 

It’s not until midday the next day that he decides to enter the living room again. The house has been exceptionally quiet, and he quickly realises his housemates are out. Zoro had been at his bedroom door once more last night, talking about whatever - Sanji hadn’t really listened. Nami had been there this morning, too, asking if he’d like any breakfast. She hadn’t received a response, but outside his door he found a tray with coffee and toast. Both are untouched.

He’s not even sure why he decided to leave his room. A change of scenery and a quick cup of tea while the house is empty and he won’t see anyone sounded like a good idea, but now standing in the midst of the familiar kitchen with over a year’s worth of precious, warm memories, it hurts. 

‘’Sanji!’’ Luffy’s bright voice suddenly comes from the living room. 

Startled, Sanji drops the kettle full of water he’d been carrying back to the stove. ‘’Fuck,’’ he curses. At least the water wasn’t hot yet.

‘’Where did you go yesterday?’’ Luffy asks, taking a seat at the kitchen table. His smile is bright and warm. Sanji feels his heart clench.

‘’What?’’ Sanji asks, slightly confused. He’s trying desperately to dry the ground as quickly as possible so he can disappear in his chamber again.

‘’Where’d you go?’’ Luffy asks again. ‘’I didn’t see you all day!’’

Sanji quits his cleaning for a second. Of course, they haven’t told him. Luffy would’ve probably tried to climb in through the window if he knew Sanji’d been in his room all day. 

But that means Luffy cares, right? 

Sanji feels tears prick at the corner of his eye. He’s so confused.

‘’Just… Out,’’ he mutters, more to himself than to Luffy.

Luffy laughs loudly, the sound echoing through the whole house. ‘’I hope it was fun.’’

Sanji nods his head. Suddenly, his appetite for tea has vanished. ‘’I’ll just go back to-’’

‘’Can you make me breakfast, please?’’ Luffy asks, trying to put on his best puppy eyes. ‘’I haven’t had your pancakes in so long!’’

Even though Sanji feels horrible, the idea of doing something that’ll make one of his best friends feel good is tempting. No matter how bad he feels, the feeling of doing something good, something kind, usually makes him feel good. He yearns to feel the happiness and satisfaction it gives him. His thighs hurt from squatting on the ground, and suddenly, he realises how hungry he actually is. Slowly, he gets up, looking at Luffy for the determining factor.

Luffy’s big eyes stare up at him, awaiting an answer. 

‘’Okay,’’ Sanji whispers before he can truly think about it.

‘’Yay!’’ Luffy screams happily, comically throwing his fists into the air. Sanji can’t tear his eyes away from the way his eyes crinkle closed when he smiles like that.

‘’Pancakes and bacon?’’ Sanji asks softly, already turning around to grab the non-stick skillet he usually uses. He hears Luffy’s excited cheers faintly in the background.

Everything happens on autopilot. Sanji doesn’t think as he makes the batter or pre-cooks the bacon in a second pan. He doesn’t listen to Luffy’s talking, which never seems to stop for even a moment. He barely notices Luffy’s presence. It wouldn’t matter whether he'd been sitting at the kitchen table, peering over his shoulder or wasn’t in the house at all: Sanji’s completely enhanced at cooking. 

For the first time in a long time, his thoughts are quiet. They’re not good or bad, they’re not even there . There’s only him and the food being prepared, and the faint, excited feeling of excitement he knows he’ll get from seeing someone enjoy his food. He feels entirely disconnected from reality, doing everything out of habit without a single thought.

The only problem is, with Sanji working on autopilot, he can’t think about certain dangers that he usually looks out for. Every person in the house has specific behaviours that he’s aware of when he’s cooking: Zoro likes to complain about whatever he’s making looking bad and smelling worse, Usopp likes to sneak little tastes when Sanji isn’t looking, and Luffy? Luffy’s too curious for his own good.

Any food he puts down, whether edible or inedible, gets tasted. Every dubiously looking spoon gets licked. And every kitchen appliance gets examined as if it’s the first time in his life he’s seen a saucepan. 

Usually, Sanji keeps an eye on Luffy to make sure he’s staying at least two feet away from the counter. Today, Sanji’s mind is too chaotic and disconnected. 

The skillet he uses for the pancakes is hot . The handle gets as hot as the surface. It’s second nature for Sanji to use oven mitts when handling this specific pan, and it’s his responsibility to take care of his foolish, oblivious friend. 

He isn’t listening to Luffy’s never-ending chattering. Hell, he doesn’t even know where he is. Sanji’s back is not even turned a full five seconds from the stove, absentmindedly looking for the butter in the fridge, before he hears a loud scream.

Luffy shrieks loudly, and the sound of clattering follows soon after. Immediately, Sanji turns around, only to find Luffy clutching his hand to his chest and the pan with a half-cooked pancake lying on the ground. Hot tears pour down Luffy’s face as he swings his hand around, desperate for any kind of feeling of relief.

Stunned, Sanji realises this is the first time he’s ever seen Luffy cry.

It takes him a second to unfreeze his body and get into action. ‘’C’mere,’’ Sanji quickly says, taking Luffy’s unburned hand and pulling him towards the tap. He pushes Luffy’s now red-hot hand under the ice-cold water, while taking deep breaths to try and steady himself.

‘’It’s okay, you’re okay,’’ Sanji tries to reassure both him and Luffy. Luffy’s tears haven’t dried yet, and Sanji swears he physically feels every single one of his sobs in his body. He feels a tear leave his own eye at the realisation that this is his fault.

I did this. His safety is my responsibility. I fucked up.

‘’It hurts,’’ Luffy whimpers. Sanji nods. 

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

‘’I’ll get you some ice, wait here,’’ Sanji says, leaving Luffy to sit on the counter with his hand under the running water. In record time, Sanji has wrapped up some ice in a clean kitchen towel. 

Without many words, Luffy is too shocked and Sanji too disassociated, Sanji manages to get Luffy seated on the couch with the cold compress on his hand. He’d quickly inspected it and luckily, it doesn’t seem that bad. It hurts, but the shock must have been as bad for Luffy as the actual wound will be. 

‘’Sanji?’’ Luffy asks softly. They’d been sitting together in silence for a couple of moments. Luffy fidgeting with the towel, his tears dried, but his eyes still red, and Sanji wallowing in self-guilt. ‘’Still hungry.’’

Sanji nods, unable to form words. He offers Luffy the TV remote in hopes of distracting him. Happily, he takes it, immediately turning on the TV and getting immersed in whatever he puts on. 

The blond leaves to the kitchen. The mess is still lying around, but he has no energy to worry about that. He quickly whips up something easy, toast and tea after remembering Nami’s tray is still lying near his bedroom door, as the front door opens. Robin enters the kitchen, her eyes widen as she takes in the situation. Sanji’s not sure what she’s more shocked about: seeing him, or the chaos. 

‘’Give this to Luffy,’’ he whispers, pushing the just-finished breakfast in her arms. ‘’Need to go.’’

Robin stays still for a moment. Sanji pushes past her, ignoring the fact he’s still in his sweatpants and oversized hoodie he’d slept in as he puts on his shoes. 

‘’Cook…’’ Robin starts, but Sanji ignores her, fastening his shoelaces as quickly as possible. 

He puts on his jacket, wilfully ignoring the way she’s trying to grab his attention. ‘’Luffy’s on the couch,’’ he says, slamming the front door behind him before she can get another word in.

-

-

Sanji doesn’t return until the sun has set and the streetlamps have long turned on. He wouldn’t even really be able to recall what he’d done. He walked around, smoking his package of cigarettes until the last one was gone, immediately going to the nearest shop to buy more and continuing. His throat hurts from the load of tobacco and carbon monoxide he’s been forcing down his throat. The hunger pangs are so bad, he occasionally has to stop and stand still for a moment. Light-headed, he sat down for an unknown amount of time in some park he’d never seen before. 

At some point, he decides that okay, maybe I do need to go home . The nearest subway station finally allowed him to figure out which way he had been walking and in any other situation, he’d be shocked at how far he’s come. Instead, he feels nothing. He figures out the fastest way to go home, head still empty and heart feeling cold.

I hurt Luffy. It was my responsibility. I hurt Zoro. If they still liked me before, they sure as hell don’t anymore.

The house is quiet. The light in the entryway is the only light still on, most likely left on solely for Sanji to return home. He quietly closes the door. Before, all he could think about was his bedroom and wanting to sleep, but now the anxiety creeps in once more. 

His hands shake as he takes off his jacket. No way that he’s going to be able to sleep like this.

-

-

Zoro hasn’t been able to sleep, no matter how hard he’s tried. 

He heard from Robin what happened between Luffy and Sanji, and even though Luffy seems unfazed - more concerned about Sanji’s whereabouts than anything else - he knows the blond is probably beating himself up over it. Sanji had already been weighed down by so much, and this was just another burden added to the load. 

Zoro couldn’t help but worry about how many more straws Sanji can take before he finally breaks.

Waiting downstairs until the return of the cook was tortuous. Everyone went to bed, mutually deciding that if Sanji needed space, he'd get it. But no one has seen the red flags Zoro’s been picking up on for weeks. Sanji’s been having space, and it only seems to make everything worse.

Annoyed, he tosses and turns in his bed. They’d all tried to call Sanji multiple times, but after hearing his phone ring from his bedroom, they knew it was useless. After contemplating, Zoro decided it’d be no use to walk around town and look for him, just as useless as worrying himself sick on the couch, constantly staring out the window in hopes of catching a glimpse of blond hair and cigarette smoke. 

After another 30 minutes of huffing and staring at his ceiling, he decides enough is enough. He can at least get downstairs, check if Sanji really hasn’t returned yet, and get something to drink before wallowing in his worries again. 

Zoro’s feet hit the cold ground. He feels a shudder move through his body. Is Sanji seriously still outside in this weather? 

Seeing the lights in the entryway still on makes his heart clench, afraid of his initial idea being true. Then the soft sound of clattering in the kitchen can be heard, and his heart jumps.

He practically runs to the kitchen, hoping desperately to find who he’s been looking for. The smell of smoke welcomes him on the stairs, and Zoro’s first feeling is pure relief. It gets quickly washed away by worry once he finally comes face-to-face with the cook.

Sanji’s running around in the kitchen. The heat from the oven is overbearing. Zoro closes the door behind him, hoping that their talking won’t wake up anyone else. This is going to be something between just them. He doesn’t need any stray ears picking up on their conversation

“Hey,” he says softly, immediately followed by the sounds of the door closing. Sanji jumps at the sound, wide eyes staring at the man in front of him. 

“Hey,” Sanji responds, immediately going back to tinkering with something sweet-smelling in a saucepan on the stove.

Zoro had expected their next conversation to start with a fight. Screaming, tears, maybe another hit, anything but this. Anything but the quiet, dishevelled man cooking at 4 am.

“What are you making?” Zoro asks, taking short steps towards the counter to peer over Sanji’s shoulder. 

Panicked, Sanji turns around. “Stop!” He says a little too loud, turning around and continuing to stir in the pot. “It’s hot, please… Not too close.”

Zoro nods. Words aren’t needed to understand the stress Sanji’s currently feeling. He understands. He takes a seat at the kitchen table, noticing an already finished cake in the middle of the table. A fork is lying next to it, a small bite has already been taken.

Red flag. Sanji never just plunges a fork into his creations to taste.

“It smells good,” Zoro remarks, hoping to start up a conversation. Or just make the stressed man in front of him feel at ease. He’s okay with both.

“It was for you,” Sanji whispers softly. “Coffee cake. As an apology.” He sighs, one hand finds its way in blond hair to tug harshly. “I messed up.” 

Zoro doesn’t like the way the man’s anxieties are clearly portraying. “Cooking is second nature for you, of course you didn’t mess it up.’’

Sanji doesn’t respond. Zoro sees the faint lines of scratches on his arm. 

‘’I don’t mind if it’s too sweet, I appreciate you making it for me,’’ Zoro tries again.

The blond doesn’t respond. He doesn’t even turn around until the sound of the fork scratching against the underside of the cake pan.

‘’Stop, no no no no,’’ Sanji sputters, eyes wide and shocked. His hair is pushed behind his ears from the tugging earlier, making both his eyes visible. 

Zoro feels his stare tug at his heartstrings. His eyes are so beautiful. He’s not sure whether blue or green suits his eyes better. Before Sanji can whine more, he takes a bite.

He understands what Sanji meant by ‘messed up’ immediately. It’s oversalted, but combined with the slight sweetness it balances each other out well. Zoro never liked sweetness, so the dulled taste is less indulgent. 

‘’It’s great, I like it. Thank you,’’ Zoro says, mouth still full of the bite.

Sanji shakes his head, looking sadly at the cake. In a swift motion, he turns off the heat and picks up the cake. 

‘’Where are you going?’’ Zoro asks, confused.

Sanji’s voice sounds fragile. ‘’Just… Leave it,’’ he sighs, quickly throwing the cake into the bin. 

‘’You…’’ Zoro doesn’t know how to word his thoughts. Sanji doesn’t waste food. He never wastes food. He has messed up new recipes before. At worst, he’d eat it himself, but he never throws it away. ‘’What are you doing?’’

‘’I’m so sorry,’’ Sanji’s voice breaks, and even though Zoro can’t see his face, he sees the way his body slumps against the kitchen counter. 

In a split second, Zoro’s arms are wrapped around Sanji from behind.

‘’I fucked up,’’ Sanji whispers again, to no one in particular again. ‘’I fucked up. I fucked up. It’s my fault. I fucked it up, didn’t I?’’ The hand finds its way back into his hair, and he tugs harshly. 

‘’Stop that,’’ Zoro says, his voice almost breaking. He puts his arms tighter around the blond until he feels every sob through his own chest. ‘’Don’t cry, you didn’t do anything wrong.’’

Sanji nods his head. He shakes out of the embrace only to turn around and fully fall into Zoro’s arms. ‘’I hate myself so much, I can’t do this anymore, Zoro, please.’’

Zoro holds him in his arms as he breaks. He’d been expecting this weeks ago, but it didn’t prepare him at all. Seeing his friend hurt hurts so much.

‘’I got you, it’s okay,’’ he whispers into Sanji’s ear. 

They don’t move. Zoro quietly sways them, hoping it soothes whatever’s going on inside Sanji’s head right now. He cries until all of his tears are dried up.

‘’Curly, look at me.’’ Zoro tries to back off from the embrace, but Sanji whines disgruntled and stays close, his head on the other’s chest. ‘’Talk to me, then.’’

He slowly moves them towards the table, sitting down with Sanji draped on top of his legs. The blond fully leans into him. It’s the first time they’re this close. Zoro feels himself go dizzy from the overwhelming sense of Sanji. 

‘’Tell me what’s been going on.’’

Sanji stutters through an incomprehensible explanation. It consists mainly of things he’s done wrong. ‘’I s-should’ve-’’ Sanji stutters. ‘’Been better.’’

Zoro listens. It’s overwhelming to hear Sanji talk, and he doesn’t know how to process it. Every single thing Sanji tells him hurts, but at the same time, his feelings are dulled. How can Sanji think of himself like this?

‘’Cook,’’ Zoro interrupts him, in the middle of a rant about how he’s sorry he hasn’t been able to do more for them. ‘’Sanji, please, listen.’’

The mention of his own name quiets him down. 

The arms around Sanji tighten. ‘’Where is this coming from?’’

Sanji shrugs his shoulders. ‘’I just… Everything hurts. And I haven’t been able to do anything like - not like I used to do.’’ The hand on Zoro’s shoulder shakes. ‘’I’m weak.’’

‘’Sanji, you’re not weak. You should’ve told us if something was wrong.’’

‘’I can handle it.’’

Zoro softly pets Sanji’s back, the only part of him his hand can comfortably reach. ‘’You don’t have to handle anything on your own.’’

Sanji doesn’t respond, so Zoro continues. ‘’We don’t love you because you do shit for us, idiot. We love you because you’re you. Because you’re kind. Remember when Usopp got wasted and you drove over an hour to pick him and Luffy up? You didn’t have to do that, no one wanted you to do that, but you did it because you’re kind.’’

Sanji moves his head closer to Zoro’s neck.

‘’I like how competitive you are. You’re always pushing me to do better, to be better, and I thought you liked that about me, too, but maybe I was wrong.’’

Sanji shakes his head. ‘’I- I like it. A bit,’’ he says slowly. ‘’ ‘S fun.’’

Zoro can’t help the soft smile that comes over his face. ‘’I’m happy about that.’’

‘’You’re the only one who matches me like that, you know? No one else would be okay with the dumb bets we make. I can’t believe I went to the gym every day for a whole month for you.’’

Sanji laughs softly. ‘’You refused to believe I could make cupcakes you’d like!’’

‘’I thought all cupcakes are sweet!’’

‘’You’re an idiot.’’

‘’I know that. Now that we’re onto the topic again, could you make them again soon?’’ Zoro asks, hoping it’ll distract the cook. Instead, it seems to have the opposite effect.

‘’Y-yea.’’ 

Zoro thinks for a moment. He’s never been good at connecting dots, especially when the dots are placed by Sanji, and thus messily all over the place and shouldn’t even have a connection to begin with.

‘’Sanji, you know you don’t have to do anything we ask you to, right? It’s just… You’re always so helpful, you’re the first person anyone would go to if they needed help.’’ Zoro resumes the soft strokes on his back.

‘’I’m not…’’ Sanji sighs shakily. ‘’I’m really not. I haven’t earned your love like that, not after… I haven’t been… I don’t deserve it, Zoro.’’

Zoro’s body freezes up. Of course, the idiot thinks like this.

‘’Look at me, now,’’ Zoro says. He moves out of the embrace, ignoring Sanji’s whine, and takes his face in his hands. They’re eye-to-eye, and no matter how much Sanji moves, he can’t get out of the grip. ‘’You don’t have to prove yourself. We love you. I promise, who made you feel that way?’’

Sanji refuses to look Zoro in the eyes, his own way of being stubborn. ‘’No one in particular. It’s just… oh.’’ A realisation seems to come over Sanji. His eyes fill with tears. ‘’Oh, oh god.’’

‘’What’s wrong?’’

‘’I’m…’’ It’s hard for Sanji not to make his voice break. ‘’I’m so sorry.’’

‘’Curly, stop apologising, tell me what you’re thinking.’’

‘’I thought it was me. I thought you didn’t like me anymore.’’

Zoro sighs. ‘’We’ve been over this multiple times. You got fucking issues, we know that, but we expect you to come to us when they’re getting bad.’’ Sanji doesn’t respond, but a tear falls from his eye. ‘’We trust you to do that.’’

He nods slowly. ‘’I messed up. It got bad, and I thought I could fix it myself, but… I don’t think I can.’’

Zoro nods, letting go of his face and engulfing him in another hug. ‘’That’s okay. I got you now. We’ll fix it together, okay?’’

“I don’t know if this can be fixed…” Sanji whispers into Zoro’s neck. His voice sounds fragile, and broken, and exhausted . Zoro feels his heart break.

“I promise, we’ll fix it,” Zoro whispers back. “You’ve got us. Let us in, okay?”

A new round of tears flow. Zoro holds him as close as possible through it all.

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

“Are your eyes closed?” Zoro’s voice is muffled by the closer door, but Sanji hears it clearly anyway.

“Yes, and I don’t know why I bother because the door is closer and you put out the lights,” Sanji responds. His hands are in front of his eyes nonetheless, because what his boyfriend wants, his boyfriend gets.

“Are you a hundred percent sure?”

“Ask me that again when you can count to a hundred!” Sanji yells back.

Zoro’s deep sigh can be heard through the door. “Just do what I ask for once, will you?” The sound of something heavy being put on the ground is loud enough to echo through the empty house. 

“My eyes are closed, now give me my goddamn gift for… for what again?”

Sanji can hear the smile in Zoro’s voice. “Just wanted to do something nice for you.” 

Sanji’s, honestly, slightly nervous. Their relationship is still quite new, it’s only been 8 months since that fateful night in the kitchen (which Sanji would rather not think about, but at least it got him here). 

Only a month later, they ended up together. As in, officially together. Sanji awkwardly mumbled his way through a confession, until Zoro got fed up with it and just kissed him - which led to a lot of sputtering and swearing from the blond, but Zoro didn’t care. Sanji simply looked too cute with his lips and the tips of his ears bright red. 

They decided to make a big change only a month ago. Zoro’s old bedroom got renovated, and Zoro’s rickety, one-person bed was swapped with a brand-new bed for 2 people. Which was not an easy adjustment.

“We’re throwing away your old bed, I don’t care.” “What’s wrong with my bed?” “Look at how old it is! We can’t even fit on it together, plus, it creaks.” “Everyone knows we have sex, Sanji.” “THEY DON’T HAVE TO HEAR IT!” “I don’t know, I think that’s kinda hot.” “You’re fucking deranged, and I hate you. We’re burning the bed.” 

Slowly, the room came together as theirs. There are cookbooks, dumbbells, dress shirts and swords displayed around the room. Sanji decorated it to be cosy, going as far as to hang up fairy lights and put plants around (‘’Sanji, we have a living room. What is all of this?’’ ‘’It’s cute! Look, the lights have different settings, and you have to learn the names of the plants.’’ ‘’They have names?’’ ‘’And feelings, Marimo. I’ll hurt you if you touch them.’’)

Sanji has never felt more loved and safe. He still has off days, which often result in off weeks, but Zoro’s always there to pick up the pieces. They’ve made a proper chore schedule, so everyone contributes equally. Sanji isn’t allowed to cook more than 4 nights a week, and together they’ve made a meal plan to make sure Sanji’s eating all 3 of his meals. 

Zoro turned out to be a much better boyfriend than Sanji could have hoped for: he’s still Zoro, dumb and clumsy and forgetful, but he does occasional boyfriend stuff Sanji hadn’t expected. He tries his best to be the person he believes Sanji deserves. Still, he’s never had a big surprise, the kind where Sanji has to close his eyes and somehow, Zoro convinces all their housemates to clear out. 

‘’I’m coming in, keep your eyes closed,’’ Zoro yells.

Sanji complies, closing his eyes tightly behind his hands. He hears the door creak open and the lights turn on. Heavy footsteps stop right in front of him.

‘’Okay, open them.’’

Nervous, Sanji opens his eyes. He slowly lowers his hands, expecting something… Practical? New kitchen knives, an apron? Something cheesy? Flowers and chocolate?

He expected everything but Zoro to stand in front of him with a small, black kitten.

‘’Oh my god,’’ Sanji immediately coos. The kitten is comfortable lying in Zoro’s arms, completely uncaring about the world around her. Once she hears Sanji’s voice, her ears perk up. Two beady eyes look over at Sanji, and a little meow escapes her small mouth.

‘’Hold her,’’ Zoro smiles, unable to keep the happiness from his voice. Sanji immediately opens his arms. The kitten looks around dumbfounded for a moment, but quickly makes herself comfortable. She fits in Sanji’s palm perfectly. ‘’I thought you’d like her.’’

‘’’She’s so cute!’’ Sanji pets her head lightly, afraid of hurting her. The kitten leans into his touch thankfully. ‘’Why? What… How?’’

‘’I just…’’ Zoro scratches behind his ear for a moment. He sits down next to Sanji, putting his arm around the other’s shoulder. ‘’I thought you deserved something nice. She’ll keep you company when you don’t feel like going out, and when you’ve had a hard day she’ll be waiting for you here.’’

Sanji feels tears prick in his eyes. ‘’She’s adorable.’’

‘’And she’s all ours.’’ Zoro’s arm tightens. Sanji leans into his touch, unable to tear his eyes from the small creature dozing off to sleep in his hands. ‘’I got everything we need. Nami and Robin even helped pick out toys and stuff.’’

Sanji feels a warm feeling blossoming in his chest, something he learned to identify as love. ‘’What’s her name?’’

‘’I named her onigiri.’’

Big eyes look over at Zoro. ‘’You did not call our cat after your favourite food.’’

‘’It sounds cute! We can name her Oni for short!’’

‘’You’re such an idiot,’’ Sanji says. He can’t even pretend to be mad right now. ‘’I’m… I love you so much,’’ he says happily, bringing Onigiri closer to his face. Her eyes open curiously at the sudden movement.

‘’Calm down,’’ Zoro smiles. ‘’You’ve known her for a good three minutes.’’

‘’I meant you, you oaf. I love you.’’ 

Zoro is silent for a moment, too stunned by Sanji’s sudden confession to respond. Then, after a beat, he pulls the blond even closer, his grip tightening. He buries his face in Sanji’s hair, feeling a familiar warmth bloom in his chest. The same warmth that’s been there every time he’s looked at Sanji for the past few months. 

‘’I love you too, curly.’’

[graveyarrdshift]

ok time to get my shit together