#anime male reader

[sanjisboyfie]

✘ keep safe : ⁶⁶⁶special ✘

link to original story these one shots/headcanons are based off of <3

a/n : some of the straw hats have longer one shots with [name], sorry </3 it's just some of them i was much more inspired to play around with than others, but I STILL LOVE ALL OF THEM PLEASE. i think it just proves i can flesh out and deepen the relationships [name] has with each straw hat some more!!! which i plan to do in the future :D anyway, this is sosososo late considering we are at 700+ hearts??? help i have no idea how or why there are so many people that are invest3ed in this silly story, but i really want to say thank you. i have been gone for so long and i know i've probably lost a lot of my original support, which i understand, but to those that stuck around: i really hope to not disappoint you in the future. i am so grateful to everyone that has showed me support - on so many different platforms too T.T THANK YOU SO MUCH EVERYONE and i hope you enjoy 

lmk which one you enjoyed the most too !!! i would love to hear any feedback and any comments you guys have <3 love u all sooo much thank u for reading :) 

+ there are some lore drops in here too so make sure to read carefully hehe!!! consider it an apology from me LMAO for my terribly extended disappearance. 

wc : 17k+ ... strap in ..

monkey d. luffy - piel canela by los panchos

"que se quede el infinito sin estrellas, o que pierda el ancho mar su immensidad, pero el negro de tu ojos que no muera. y el canela de tu piela se quede iguel. si perdiera el arco iris su belleza, y las flores su perfume y su color, no seria tan immense mi tristeza comon aquella de quedarme sin tu amor. me importas tu, y tu, y tu, y solamente tu, y tu, y tu. me importas tu, y tu, y tu, y nadie mas que tu." // "may the infinite be left without stars, or may the whole wide sea lose its immenseness. but may the blackness of your eyes never die. and may the cinnamon of your skin stay the same. if the rainbows were to lose its beauty, and the flower their perfume and their color. my sadness wouldn’t be as immense as that from being left without you love. what matters to me is you, and you, and you. and only you, and you, and you. what matters to me is you, and you, and you, and no one else, but you"

[name] would do anything to ensure that a smile stayed on luffy’s lips.

the unthinkable things he would never say out loud in fear of scaring people away, that he would do to make luffy happy. the unimaginable pain he would bring onto others if it meant that luffy’s joy and dreams were protected.

he would do anything for luffy.

the entire world could collapse around the two them, but [name] would only be looking into luffy’s wonderous brown eyes the whole time. there was a different sense of adoration that [name] held for luffy, one unseen by many and unknown by more. in fact, the only person in the world that could begin to comprehend how serious [name] was in ensuring luffy’s happiness could be ace.

a part of that reason was because of how ace had seen first hand what [name] was willing to do in order to protect those he loved, and the man with h/c hair definitely did love luffy. and secondly, it was because a part of that ideology in [name] lived in ace. wholeheartedly, the two men would do anything in a heartbeat for luffy.

as [name] woke up, he was greeted by luffy’s scent surrounding him. and yes, it was a pleasant scent. ever since [name] joined the crew, luffy and him would bathe together, so [name] was making sure that the man was smelling clean and fresh every night before bed. which is why the smell of the sun that luffy usually radiated was wiped away and replaced with his natural smell (which, ironically, still held a tinge of the sun).

the natural smell that radiated from his captain could only be explained as mimicking the smell of meat, but also, a certain amount of sweetness. and, genuinely [name] hated sweets, but when it was something that naturally came from luffy, he couldn’t bring himself to so vehemently hate it as much as he usually does.

he smiles to himself as he imagines the reason why luffy has a hint of sweetness to his scent is because of his natural instinct of being a kind person. he sighs in content, wrapping his strong arms around luffy’s waist and basking in his presence. he had waited years to be able to do this, just hold luffy again, so each time he could, he never failed to hold him close and hard. to ground himself in reminding himself that luffy was truly with him and wasn’t going anywhere.

as he was shamelessly cuddling into luffy’s side, the man “trapped” in his arms subconsciously welcomed the affection. since he was still sleeping, luffy wasn’t truly aware of his own actions. his arms and legs were moving on their own, wrapping several times over around [name]’s waist and legs to bring him impossibly closer.

as [name]’s chin rested on top of luffy’s messy raven hair, he smiled at the feeling and squeezed luffy back.

this only made luffy smile in his sleep and cuddle closer to his favorite person.

and it was the quiet moments like these where [name] really does come to terms that he would do anything, genuinely anything, to keep luffy safe and happy.

it was a quiet morning, surprisingly. ace was still snoring away in the corner and luffy’s head was resting soundly on [name]’s lap. a bandaged hand was going through his black hair and a soft tune was audibly coming from the man.

“hnnggg, [name] it’s too bright,” luffy whined, cuddling his face into [name]’s thighs to hide away from the sunlight that was seeping into the treehouse.

“that’s called the sun, luffy,” [name] grinned, lightly pinching the rubber man’s cheek. he only whined louder, hugging [name] so tight the man’s air was practically cut off.

“we should go fishing today,” luffy suggested out of nowhere, eyes still closed. “since you’re still healing, i can do all the fishing and you can watch,”

“i don’t know if i wanna spend my morning watching you fish, luffy,” [name] joked, making luffy childishly whine about how mean he was being. “should we go now? so when ace wakes up, he has some food,”

“but i’m tired…” luffy breathed out, shuffling to prop himself up on his palms to properly face [name], “let’s be sure to leave quietly so he doesn’t wake up,”

and suddenly luffy was standing up and full of energy, even though he just claimed how tired he was.

the supplies were gathered and they both jumped from the treehouse to the ground with ease. the moment they began walking to the stream, luffy was draped over [name]’s back and cuddling into him.

“ace always hogs you, y’know,” luffy commented, his eyebrows furrowed in displeasure. “it’s not fair when i was your friend first,”

[name] chuckled at luffy’s words, finding them both endearing and funny.

“it feels like such a long time ago,” [name] said fondly, throwing an arm around luffy’s frame and holding him close. with their difference in size, it was easy to keep luffy so near to him.

“hm, i guess, but i remember it,”

“then i’ll take your word for it. maybe you should bring it up to ace when we see him,” luffy hummed with his head held high, seemingly very determined to seriously put ace in his place over such a trivial matter.

as they were walking through the forest, [name]’s eyes caught a glimpse of something big and shiny resting on a tree trunk. it clicked immediately what it was and he, unfortunately, had to detach himself from luffy.

the younger one whined, but then he also saw what it was that caught [name]’s eyes. and only then did he let out a yell of happiness. he began shaking [name]’s arm back and forth, a wide grin on his face.

and in unison, the two boys exclaimed, “a hercules!!!”

luffy clapped his hands as his eyes sparkled and turned into stars. and seeing such a joyous expression on his face, [name] didn’t hesitate in handing over the beetle to luffy.

“hold onto him lu, we can bring him with us on our adventure,” he spoke softly, smiling at the way luffy’s smile only stretched further.

“he’s so cool, [name]! look at his horn!” luffy exclaimed, placing his hand into [name]’s awaiting one and not wasting a second before swinging their arms back and forth, “he’s so cool, thanks for giving him to me!”

despite [name] never allowing luffy to “claim” the bug that he had found, he wasn’t going to object. seeing how happy it made luffy was enough to make him give up on any possible objections that he could have had.

it had been a couple hours since [name] properly woke up, leaving luffy a slumbering mess in their hammock.

now to fill his time, [name] was watching the ocean sway and move with a bored look on his face. sometimes, if he were bored, he’d force the waves to move to his liking, but then he’d stop to not be caught by nami and her fury.

but one can only stare at the ocean for so long. just as he was about to go find another distraction, a figure came crashing into his back and knocking the air out of his lungs.

”[name]!! what are you doing?’ luffy’s drawled out voice spoke, practically whining into [name]’s skin. “you left me all alone,”

“i did not, i made sure zoro was nearby for you to cuddle,” [name] smiled, turning his head and feeling his smile grow wider when luffy’s face pressed closer and closer to his own.

“blegh, i don’t like cuddling with zoro, he smells,”

“i know, maybe we should force him into bath time with us, lu,” [name] hummed, still not breaking eye contact.

luffy’s deep, dark eyes were so captivating that it was hard to look away. [name] only found himself surveying the rest of luffy’s features. his beautifully tanned complexion that could only be describe as sun-kissed. his dark hair that was oh-so slightly wavy, but for the most part just spikey in all the most random directions. the small, barely noticeable freckles that adorned the high points of his face, credit to the sun exposure he’s gotten over their journey.

[name] smiled, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against luffy’s. the captain, finding the action fun, grinned and leaned further into [name], giggling to himself.

luffy, [name]’s beautiful boy.

innocently unaware of the hold he had over [name]’s heart, morals, actions, ideology. everything. luffy had complete control over it. and instead of abusing it, he remained painfully oblivious.

unaware that with a simple command, [name] would do anything luffy wished.

luffy, the sun-kissed boy, that had captivated the man who related to the moon. an unlikely pair, from an outsider perspective.

without hesitation, [name] leaned in and gently pecked luffy’s nose. this made the younger one crinkle his face in surprise before breaking out into laughter, the signature laugh of his.

“hehe, what was that for?” luffy asked, making sure that their foreheads were still connected.

“dunno,” [name] dumbly answered, grinning as he saw the way luffy pouted at that response. “just felt like it,”

luffy hummed in understanding. then he grabbed both of [name]’s cheeks, pulled him in, and placed a wet, sloppy kiss onto both of his cheeks. [name] grimaced at the uncomfortable sensation, but the grimace was wiped off of his face in an instant when he saw how happy luffy was.

the two started quietly giggling before it turned into outright howling laughter. they didn’t know why they were laughing, honestly, but [name] felt that silence existing when luffy was near wasn’t an appropriate environment. so he started laughing, as did luffy, and now here they were rolling back and forth on deck in each others’ arms, laughing so loud the other strawhats woke up.

“hm, no, luffy, pay attention,” [name] sternly said, holding onto luffy’s hand to squeeze. the action was supposed to trigger luffy into becoming serious, but the future captain still had that childish grin on his face. “this mean “i am” and the black space is where you put your name, m’kay? and you write your name like this — like we practiced earlier!”

luffy simply kept his hold on [name]’s hand tight as he mindlessly nodded along. affectionately, the older one’s thumbs ran up and down the backside of luffy’s hand, encouraging him to try writing it out himself. and it seemed to work as luffy turned serious.

”then you have to write it in this stroke,” [name] said, taking his other hand to hold onto luffy’s and guide him in the proper way of writing. luffy’s tongue was poking out of the corner of his lips and he was deeply concentrated on getting it right. white paper sheets that had previous attempts were scattered around their room, showing how determined luffy was in getting this right.

he recognized how hard [name] was teaching him and he really didn’t want to mess up all the effort he was putting into their lesson. that’s what motivated luffy to try again and again.

“wow! that doesn’t look half bad,” [name] hummed, bringing the paper up and examining it, “you’re getting better each time, lu,”

“i did good?” luffy asked, dropping the inky pen and jumping onto [name], tilting his head into the man’s neck.

[name] chuckled at the blatant need for praise from the boy, but nodded his head in agreement, “very good, lu, you’re making me really proud!” the childish one cheered and rocked the two back and forth to show his happiness at the news. [name] held onto him tight so that they wouldn’t crash onto the floor, laughing along with him.

“should we show ace your hard work?” [name] suggested, grabbing the paper tight in his hands. luffy hummed in agreement, seeing it as a chance to show off to his older brother, and [name] carried the boy on his back to find ace.

in the crow’s nest of merry, [name] had his hands carded through luffy’s dark hair. he would occasionally massage his scalp, smiling when luffy would practically purr in glee at the soft sensation. in the midst of the sunset, the light was hitting luffy so beautifully he was practically glowing.

to know that someone as kindhearted and beautiful as luffy existed made [name] smile.

luffy was busy watching the sunset, he wasn’t all too focused on how [name] was taking in every little detail of his face.

[name] could see every detail so clearly. the freckles that were so small they were only visible when the sun was shining on them, scattered around his eyes, nose and cheeks. they looked like flecks of a paintbrush’s brown paint. how luffy’s eyes were so dark, but still managed to sparkle and look as if though stars were living right in his eyes. they were so cute when they were blown wide in excitement, too, [name] had noticed that since him and luffy were kids.

how luffy’s eyes would widen and you’d see visibly how excited he was about something. it made [name] smile even wider. or, how naturally luffy’s lips were always resting in a small grin and how there was the tiniest mole on the bottom of his lip and how it would stretch along with him whenever he smiled.

how there was no blemish in sight on luffy’s skin and he was practically flawless. [name] hands moved from luffy’s hair and down to his waist, hugging him tight. he ducked his head into luffy’s neck, innocently blowing a raspberry into his skin, making luffy’s giggles fill the air.

“hey! what was that for?” luffy questioned, not at all angry, but instead feeling delighted at the affection.

“just wanted to,” [name] smiled, holding luffy still and continuing to hug him tight in his lap. “luffy, promise me something,”

“anything!” luffy grinned.

“never change, okay? i want you to stay like this forever,” [name] said, a selfish feeling blooming in his chest. luffy frowned, pouting as he thought.

truthfully, luffy was also a really selfish individual who, contrary to what people think, is incredibly self-aware. in the sense, he knows who he is and knows what he wants and how he wants to achieve his dreams. he’s actually a very simple man — he wants to be the pirate king and won’t let anything stop him. and he likes to think that’s one of his strongest suits, his determination and unwillingness to shift positions on what he has his mind set on.

that’s what made [name]’s words were so conflicting to him. because what if he does end up changing because he has to? but also, he cherishes [name] above everything else. he puts [name] on such a high pedestal that there’s never a chance he would willingly say no to him.

“are you gonna hate me if i change?”

“of course not, lu,” [name] said immediately, running one hand up to caress luffy’s cheek, “could never hate you. i just love you so much like this — the sweetest boy i know,”

“hehe, then i’ll stay like this forever if that means you’ll love me the same!”

[name] grinned, planting a kiss on luffy’s cheek and nodding, “you’re the best, luffy,”

“that’s right, i am! the king of pirates can’t be anything else but!”

[name] and luffy laughed to themselves, both looking on at the sun that was setting over the horizon and basking in its rays. well, [name] was too enamored with the warmth and energy that luffy was radiating to really focus on the sun, but luffy was paying attention to it.

the sun watching the sun, [name] thought with a grin, laughing at the funny parallel.

that really does make him the moon, eagerly chasing after luffy. always.

roronoa zoro - frisky by dominic fike

“we’re drunk in these fancy places, i help you navigate cause nobody around you makes aneffort and i wanna make an effort. what in the world is gonna make you listen? i got a bottle for two and i feel a lil’ frisky! what in the world is gonna make you listen? // don’t be so messy headed, you’ll have your revelation. you’re heavy handed cause you hold it all. step outside, but not to brawl. and, watch you feet — try not to fall. or we’ll make it to the moon all scraped and bruised up”

the moon was shining brightly down on the island the strawhats were docked at. each crew member was doing their own thing, for nami it was seeing the different shops that were scattered around the island, for usopp it was to see what type of unique trinkets the people created, and sanji was busy trying to woo whichever women stepped into his eye sight. and the most energetic, luffy and chopper, were entertaining themselves around the island, leaving some sort of chaotic mess behind them.

the only ones who were holding off on letting loose were zoro and [name]. they were assigned to babysit merry while the others were free to roam around and neither complained when they were appointed the responsibility.

the two were the only ones left on merry, zoro secluded near the railing and seemingly watching the ocean with his swords not far away. [name] was roaming around looking for the green-head, holding a bottle of rum he had found in his hand.

and when he finally caught sight of him, he grinned ear to ear. he quietly stalked towards the swordsman, announcing his presence with a soft, but loud, “boo!” and grabbing each of zoro’s shoulders to shake gently. the goal was to obviously scare him, but zoro only rolled his eyes at [name]’s childish antics.

“really? your loud ass breathing gave you away,” zoro said, a smirk on his face as he easily insulted [name].

the man only rolled his eyes and took a seat beside zoro, placing the bottle down, “come on, let’s get drunk!”

zoro quirked his eyebrow up at the remark, but didn’t bother fighting the urge to take a long swig. and when the bottle was pulled away from his lips, he placed it back down, “you don’t drink,” he easily said, watching with interest as [name] took the bottle.

“i don’t, but this could be a good bonding moment between us,”

zoro scoffed at the excuse, cracking a grin as he saw [name]’s face scrunch up in disgust at the taste of alcohol, “for someone that loves bitter things, i would’ve thought you’d have loved the taste of some booze,”

“blegh,” [name] groaned, sticking his tongue out, “hell no. this shit is so nasty,”

zoro took another sip, “so why even?”

“bonding, of course,” [name] grinned, demeanor flipping in an instant.

“why do we need to this bonding? it’s stupid,” zoro remarked, looking at the bottle with a blank look on his face.

“zoro, quit complaining. nothing’s wrong with me bringing a bottle for two, shouldn’t you be happy you’re drinking booze anyway,”

“i could easily do this by myself, dipshit,”

“bottle for two, marimo,” [name] said, flicking zoro’s forehead, “don’t be so pissy.”

“fine, but don’t you get all whiny on me when you keep sipping this knowing you’ll hate it,”

“oh, shut up, zoro,” [name] said, taking another swig and immediately sticking his tongue out in disgust.

by the time the bottle was halfway done, zoro drinking most of it, [name] was feeling rather tipsy. his face felt hot and he was slouching and swaying in all sorts of directions, despite being in a sitting position. and of course, zoro was holding up just fine and normal.

“zoro,” [name] whined, making the green-haired man click his tongue in annoyance. this is exactly what he was dreading. the possibility of [name] being unable to hold his liquor well and having to babysit the man’s drunken state.

“no,” zoro grunted, already getting up to walk away from the mess of a man that [name] was.

“no, you,” [name] said, quickly grabbing ahold of zoro’s ankles and keeping an iron grip on them.

“hey! let go!”

“no, you,”

“what?!”

“hehe.”

“don’t hehe me, you bastard!” zoro bit back, pulling [name] up to his feet by his underarms, cringing at the way [name]’s entire body weight fell onto him. not that he was heavy, but the fact that he was clinging onto him so tight the moment their skin made contact. “i told you not to even bother with this, you idiot. now look, you can’t even stand straight,”

“we should go out,” [name] mumbled, cheek pressed to zoro’s hair. “marimo,” he said in a daze, carding his long fingers through zoro’s short hair, “fuzzy!”

“quit it!’ zoro said, grabbing [name]’s hands in his own and restraining them from wandering anywhere else. “why the fuck did i have to be on here with you, of all people?”

after a couple moments of silence, zoro wondered if [name] did actually fall asleep standing up, or if he was really that offended by his words. the swordsman didn’t know how [name] was drunk so there was a chance he was one of those overly emotional people…

just as he tilted his head up to see [name]’s expression, he was yanked in the opposite direction and was suddenly being dragged elsewhere.

“let’s go!!” [name] cheered, smile evident on his face as he easily used his strength to drag zoro’s entire body weight.

“go where?! and like hell we are going anywhere!!” zoro shouted, kicking his heels into merry to stop his movement, but it was truly no use. [name], despite being drunk, was still really strong.

“see the world!” [name] shouted, jumping off of the side of the railing and bringing zoro with him, “merry, we will be back, don’t go anywhere!” he slurred, waving by to the still ship and skipping ahead.

“hey, hey, hey, don’t drag me into whatever you’re plannin-” zoro’s face was covered with [name] hand as the drunk man shut him up from complaining further. “gthyrhuntuhofame!!”

“you’re so funny, zoro,” [name] giggled, leaning into the man and guiding the both of them to walk forward. well, guide was the wrong word as he was walking as if he had two left feet and swaying the two of them back and forth.

once zoro managed to break free from [name]’s suffocating hand, he screamed, “we are going back to merry, idiot, let’s go!”

“but zoro! we didn’t even get to the main part of town!” [name] complained, kicking his feet into the dirt in protest.

“i don’t give a shit, come on!” zoro grabbed onto [name]’s hand without thinking twice and started dragging him back in the direction of merry. unfortunately, [name]’s eyes caught something shining a couple of feet away and changed his trajectory with ease.

noticing that [name]’s hand wasn’t in his and that he wasn’t dragging the man to walk, zoro looked at his straying figure. “where are you going?!”

”it’s the light bug! what are they called? bug light? dragon light? no…light bug…”

“what are you talking about?! get back here,” zoro scrambled to catch up to [name], cursing under his breath as [name] was not listening to him at all.

“dragon…no, light…” [name] was pouting as he tried to remember what the name was before his face lit up and he remembered. and when he did, he made sure to swivel on his feet to face the incoming zoro, grabbing ahold of him and shaking him back and forth, “fire fly! they’re the fireflies! zoro, look at all the fireflies!”

using the hands on both sides of zoro’s face, he maneuvered his head around to look at all the glowing bugs around them. the swordsman obviously did not care and tried breaking free from his grasp immediately.

“yeah, yeah, the light bugs, whatever! let’s go, you big idiot,” zoro said, taking [name]’s wrists in his hands and tugging him again.

“no! fireflies,” [name] scolded, smacking the back of zoro’s head, “fire-fly! fi-re-fl-y!”

“shut the fuck up about the stupid bugs!” zoro screamed, making [name] laugh at his funny expression.

“the marimo is mad.”

“shut the fuck up or i’ll leave you here!”

“oh, but zoro, look the moon is so bright!” [name] stopped walking, jolting zoro’s body to be near his own, a dopey grin on his face, “it’s sooooo big! and bright! like…like, a bowl of milk.”

zoro deadpanned, rolling his eyes at the childish antics he had to deal with, “yeah, a big bowl of milk in the sky, let’s go now.”

“no, i wanna look at it some more,” he plopped down onto the grass, crossing his long legs over one another and gazing up at the sky.

“fine, find your own way back to merry, i’m not looking at the stupid moon with you,” zoro said, dropping the hold he had on [name]’s wrist and beginning to walk away. [name], seemingly unbothered, only began humming a very familiar song and looking up at the sky with a soft smile on his face.

zoro’s eyes narrowed at his lack of complaint of him leaving, enunciating, “you have to go back to merry on your own.”

[name] only continued on humming.

“i’m not gonna tell them how to find you, you need to go back by yourself,”

the same tune was escaping [name]’s sealed lips.

and, for some unexplainable reason, zoro found himself sitting down next to [name] and resting his chin in his palms, a bored and pissed look on his face.

“stupid fucking idiot, can’t just look at the moon from merry, as if it makes a difference where you look at it from,” he said under his breath, flinching when he felt [name]’s breath on the back of his neck. “back up!”

“if you had one wish, what would it be, zoro?”

“for you to back up off of me,”

“no,” [name] said, hugging himself into zoro’s side with a grin on his face, “that’s not a real wish!”

“fine, my wish would be for you to drop dead,”

“how rude~” [name]’s words were slurred as he spoke, showing that the affects of the alcohol were still lasting, “my wish would be for everyone’s dreams to come true. you’ll kill that stupid hawk guy and claim that title as yours, luffy will be the pirate king…and…i forgot everyone elses’…sorry,”

“that’s stupid. you’d waste your one wish on other people?” zoro judged, giving up on trying to get [name]’s heavy torso off of his own body. instead, he leaned back on the palms of his hands and allowed [name] to rest on his shoulder however he liked.

“it’s not a waste if it’s you guys,” [name] yawned, eyes dreary as he looked at the moon. “not a waste, marimo,”

zoro remained silent, looking down at [name]’s head on his chest and sighing. annoying piece of shit, he thought in his head. then he turned his gaze up to the sky and tried to make himself interested in it. he wondered what [name] was seeing that made him so intrigued in it. maybe his drunk self really thought a big bowl of milk was in the sky. zoro’s eyebrows scrunched together as he was deep in thought.

why would [name] waste a wish on something as stupid as that? — instead of his own dreams. it made zoro annoyed and pissed off. selfless bastard, he insulted in his head.

“do you think the moon is a big cheese?”

zoro deadpanned again. what the fuck was wrong with him.

“if the moon was a big cheese, i’d give you a bigggg slice,” [name] grinned, nodding his head in affirmation, “cheese is yummy,”

“mhm,” zoro hummed in a bored tone.

then he felt the weight on his chest grow heavier and the body against his turn limp.

“oi.” he called out, going to shake [name] awake before holding himself back. the man was sleeping with a tired grin on his face, mumbling incoherent phrases about the moon and cheese. zoro was tuning him out as he just thought about how annoying he was being.

zoro sat up, allowing [name]’s body to hit the ground briefly before squatting down and forcing his tall figure onto his back, “he comes all the way out here,” he grunts, balancing the weight on his back and adjusting his grip, “then has the audacity to fall asleep,” he begins walking down through the grassy fields, “all for a stupid milk, cheese moon…i’ll kill him when he wakes up,”

“marimo, cheese,” [name] said in his sleep, making zoro very tempted in whacking him awake and making him walk the rest of the way to merry. but zoro restrained himself and told himself he would just harshly drop [name] onto the deck of merry the second they arrived.

by some miracle, zoro made it back to merry without getting completely lost. and it seemed that despite them abandoning their post over an hour ago, they were still the only ones that were on board. and zoro withheld throwing [name] onto the floor, clicking his tongue in annoyance as he walked to the boy’s dorm.

then he put [name] down into one of the hammocks, sighting in exhaustion of carrying the much taller man.

“marimo, stay,”

“i’m not a fucking dog, you asshole.”

“marimo, sit,”

“oi!!”

“shhh,” [name] put his finger to zoro’s lips, making him shut up, but ultimately only piss zoro off further. “cheese moon,”

“holy fucking shit,” zoro groaned in disbelief, standing up and leaving the room to retrieve a water from the kitchen. surprisingly, the chef was back and moving around the familiar domain as he prepared some dish. “hah? when did you get back?”

“just now, stupid marimo. where’s [name]? don’t tell me you two killed each other?”

“shut up, ero cook,” zoro bit back, going to get a glass and some medication from the cabinet, “the idiot got drunk,”

“[name]? he doesn’t drink,” sanji said, a look of surprise on his face.

“yeah, i know,” zoro said, moving past sanji and getting water from the sink.

”i’ll make him a hangover remedy then,” the chef said easily, rolling his sleeves up without wasting a second.

“you care that much about the idiot?”

“who’s the one getting him medication and water?”

there was silence in the kitchen and zoro stormed out of there with a pissed off look on his face. then he stomped over to the dorms and forced the pill down [name]’s throat, as well as big gulps of water. [name], surprisingly, didn’t complain all that much. only going limp against the hammock once zoro was done. and just as the swordsman was going to leave, [name]’s hand grabbed ahold of his pant leg.

“let go,” zoro commanded, tugging his leg to get [name]’s grip free.

“stay, look at the moon with me, zoro,”

“we’re-” zoro cut himself off, finding the words he wanted to say die in the back of his throat. what he wanted to say was, that there was no moon in sight from the inside of the dormitory.

but just as he was going to, [name]’s hand pointed upward at the ceiling, a blissful smile on his face, “right there,”

now usually, zoro would have said something along the lines of, “you delusional fuck, that’s the wood ceiling,”

but, again, the words died at the back of his throat. instead, he found himself taking a rest in the hammock beside [name]’s and looking at the ceiling.

“yep, the cheese moon is definitely something,” he drawled out, crossing his arms over his chest.

“hehe, thanks, zoro,” [name] smiled, eyes still shut as he was going in and out of sleep, “for drinking with me.”

”yeah, it’s never happening again so cherish this memory,” zoro sarcastically bit back, a mocking look on his face — one that [name] didn’t even see as he was still in a sleepy state.

but even though [name]’s eyes were shut and a blissful look was on his face, zoro was wide awake and left expectingly staring at the other man. and when he caught himself staring, he turned his head to the side immediately and rolled his eyes.

“idiot,” was whispered into the air as he tried to will himself to sleep, body still turned away from [name]’s. “fucking idiot.”

nami - hit different by sza

“man, i get more in love with you each argument. something wrong with me, i like the way you screw your face up, trigger me right when i need it. you wrong, but i can’t get along without you. it’s a shame and i can’t blame myself, keep on loving you. you do it different. all that i know is, mirrors inside of me — they recognize you. please, don’t deny me”

onlookers were watching the two on the street with terrified expressions.

“quit being unreasonable, [name]!”

“but i’m not, nami,” he drawled her name out, a teasing tone evident in his voice.

the townspeople all flinched at his response, finding him courageous for walking such a thin line in front of someone that was so obviously angered.

[ a couple minutes before ]

[name] and nami were exploring the town, walking side by side and paying attention to all the vendors that interested them. [name] already had some shopping bags in his hands, courtesy of nami’s spending habits, but wasn’t complaining at all.

she would drag him every which way and he wouldn’t say a single complaint. he was in a pretty good mood, so he wasn’t going to drag anyone else’s mood down either, even if he didn’t appreciate being treated like a ragdoll of some sort.

“oooh, do you think usopp would like this?” nami asks, pointing to a patterned bandana inside one of the shops, “i want to pay him back for making the climatact for me,”

“i think he likes neutral colors more, though,” he commented, looking over the options and seeing a more earth-toned bandana.

“really? i feel like he likes colorful things more, radiates his energy anyway…” [name] almost cooed at the underlying compliment nami had given the sniper, before a tick mark appeared on her forehead and she sneered, “loud, annoying, and in your face. maybe we shouldn’t even get him anything! he really did screw me over in alabasta with all those flimsy tricks!”

he rubbed up and down her back to calm her down, “it got the job done, though, so it’s alright. let’s get him one of each then, i’ll pay,” she batted her eyelashes at him, her angry demeanor washing away instantly as she purred about how much of a gentleman he was (she just didn’t want to pay and was trying to gas him up so that he would pay for more things on their shopping spree).

“shut up, i see through your tactics, nami,” he said, lightly flicking her forehead before waltzing into the shop and making a beeline straight to the attendant. she waited outside of the store, smiling to herself as she was not paying for the gift herself.

and she wasn’t standing by herself for long, but in the minutes of [name] being gone, a man had approached her. immediately she grimaced at the sight of him, but he only reacted with a smile to the look on her face.

“sorry for bothering you, miss, but i couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you are-”

“not interested,” she sighed, already wondering when [name] would come back.

“i was wondering if you would be interested in going to dinner with me?”

“i already said not interested,” she repeated, tapping her foot in annoyance.

“are you waiting for someone?”

“yeah, i am actually,” she pointed her finger to the store, “he’s buying something for me and a friend right now,”

“his own money, darling? because i can assure you i have more than whatever he has,” in a way of showing off, he had pulled a thick wallet from his pant pocket. now, nami was not at all interested in the man, but rather the thick wad of beri that was resting in his leather wallet.

just as she was about to try out some of her old techniques in snatching the man’s wallet, the sound of the door behind her opening was heard.

“huh? nami, who’s this?” [name] asked, eyes already narrowed as he looked down at the much shorter man. nami elbowed him in the stomach for interrupting her process, looking up at him and sneering in his direction.

“oh, no one, he was just making small talk, weren’t you?” she directed her eyes to the stranger, trying to convey with her expression to go along with what she was saying.

“well, he can make small talk with someone else,” [name] said, cutting off any excuse the stranger would have also made to stay longer. he motioned for them to leave, looking solely at nami so that she could focus on him and not the stranger.

and with his intimidating e/c eyes now looking at her, she almost caved. but then she caught a glimpse of the wallet and remained steadfast. she wished [name] could read her mind so that he would let her do what she needed to do.

“[name], just go back to merry,” she said in a sweet tone, hoping that that would convince him.

but he was stubborn, obviously.

“yeah, man, go back to merry,” the guy chimed in, making nami internally groan at what men would do to stroke their own ego. and of course, now [name] would definitely not go back to merry after that guy told him to.

“oh, isn’t the lil man a bit demanding?” [name] teased, looking at the shorter male and faking a pout, “why the fuck do you think you have the right to tell me what to do?”

“quit being unreasonable, [name],” nami sighed, feeling her anger beginning to

“oh, but i’m not, nami.” the same tone he used on the man was now being used on her and it made her even more annoyed.

“come no, [name] can’t you see-”

“that you want this guy’s wallet? yeah.”

the man flinched at the quick comment, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. but before he could even react, [name] swiped him across the face and caught his wallet before he could even hit the ground. then he grabbed nami’s hand and began running with her away from the commotion he had caused.

“hey! get that guy! he just punched the mayor!”

“that was the mayor?!” [name] shouted out in a slight panic.

“[name]! what the hell!? why couldn’t you just let me handle it?!”

“he was pissing me off!”

“typical man behavior — you’re pissed off so you go punching everything and everyone!”

“i punched one person!”

“yeah and that one person was the mayor!”

“well, i got his wallet, shouldn’t you be rejoicing?!”

“oh yeah, thanks for doing what i could’ve done with ease in such a terrible way that now we are running from the angry townspeople!” nami shouted, pulling on his ear and dragging her down to her height and making them turn a corner to hide from the crowd.

he was leaning down so that his ear wasn’t being completely ripped off, wincing in pain.

“this is why you should’ve just gone to merry, i would’ve had that wallet in under ten minutes without the violence,” nami scolded, turning silent when a crowd of angry civilians ran past them.

[name] only spoke up when he was sure that the coast was clear, freeing himself from nami’s aggressive grip.

“i wanted to punch him in the face anyway, it was a win-win situation!”

“really? you think this is a win-win situation right now?” nami asked, her voice becoming louder with the more annoyed she was getting.

“uhm, yeah, we have the wallet and i got to punch him,” [name] shrugged, a very relaxed look on his face. “shouldn’t you be rejoicing over this right now?”

“ugh, now we have to rush off of this island, or else they’re gonna eventually catch on,” nami thought out loud, ignoring [name]’s question.

“we are pirates anyway nami, they would’ve kicked us off of the island sooner or later,” he said, bringing his arm up to rest on the wall behind her, leaning into it. he peered down at her with a grin, not at all bothered by the state they were in.

nami crossed her hands over her chest and looked to the side as she thought about how they’d even get to merry without attracting the crowd. the island was small and they were bound to bump into some civilian on the way back. noticing how lost in thought she was in, [name] sighed and pinched her side.

this made her snap her head in his direction with a glare, “are you mad at me?” he asked, making her run her hand down his face.

“what do you think, idiot?”

“no?” he wistfully asked, grinning into her palm as he felt her fight the urge to squeeze his face with all her strength.

“just shut up and let me think,” she began to trying to remember where the rest of the crew was. at least this stop was planned to be quick to begin with or else she would be fuming at [name] right now.

“c’mon, don’t be mad at me, nami,” he whined like a kid, only making her more distracted from her rational thinking.

“you’re only making me more mad,” she huffed, finally looking up at him and scowling at the face he was making. he was attempting puppy dog eyes towards her, but she just smooshed his face (again) with her hand and grabbed him by the wrist. “we have to go back and warn everyone,”

“yes, ma’am,” he obediently chimed in, walking with in a pep in step as he followed her.

their walk back included him humming his signature tune as she was trying to calm her anger towards [name] down. but as they walked back, she realized that her anger wasn’t as strong as she would have liked. she wishes that she could make [name] grovel at his feet and beg for forgiveness from her, for causing such a hinderance in their stop at this island, but the more she listened to his humming, the more her anger subsided.

annoying ass, she thought to herself, squeezing his wrist especially hard, knowing that it wouldn’t actually hurt him. he even had the audacity to giggle to himself after she had done that.

when they finally made it back to merry, she ordered him to get ready to set sail while making sure that everyone else was already on board.

“woah, nami, you look extra pissed, what’s going on?” usopp commented, lifting his goggles off of his eyes and putting down the trinket he was fiddling with.

“why don’t you ask that dumbass over there?” she sneered, making usopp shiver at the sheer annoyance in her voice. then he looked at [name], stomped over, and began stretching his cheeks.

“what did you do to make nami so mad?! y’know she’s just gonna get mad at us now!!”

“well, i didn’t make her mad on purpose!” [name] weakly defended, but usopp wasn’t having it. “some guy was being a creep so i punched him,”

nami’s eye twitched at the reminder while usopp’s soul slowly left his body.

”whatever! it doesn’t matter now! usopp, is everyone on board?!” nami said, making the sniper snap out of his stupor to quickly reply back to the enraged nami that everyone was present. “then tell them to get ready to set sail, we’re leaving now. i really don’t want to worry about a marine ship ambushing us…”

“yes, nami!!” he screamed, running off to follow her orders.

after successfully getting away from the island, [name] walked to the tangerine trees that were on top of merry and grabbed a handful from the delicate branches. as far as he knew, nami went to her cartography room to work in peace, but he wanted to extend some sort of apology to her for ruining their stop at the island.

he didn’t think it was all that big of a deal, but he could tell how annoyed she was at him. so he diligently and carefully peeled the skin away from the juicy fruit, throwing them to the garbage, and neatly plating the now naked tangerines on a nice dish.

when he got her door, he gently knocked and entered after a couple of seconds of silence. nami saw that it was him and immediately rolled her eyes, before seeing that he did not come empty handed.

“what is it?” she questioned, crossing her arms over her chest and swiveling her chair to face him. he stood in front of her, smiling gently as he presented the plate to her. she only looked up at him unimpressed.

“i wanted to say sorry, i admit that it was kind of dumb of me to cause a scene back there,” he scratched the back of his head awkwardly as he saw that she was still not impressed, “you were right about the whole thing. it was just annoying seeing his ego get stroked that high,”

she sighed, dropping her glare and grabbing the plate from him to take a slice.

“it’s whatever now, we are already on course to a nearby island where we can properly restock. it’s fine, [name],” she looked back at her sketched out maps, chewing and swallowing the tangerine with a pleasant smile on her face. “you even brought some tangerines, not that that immediately makes you not guilty, but at least you’re actually sorry.”

“of course i am, caused a lot of trouble for us and you,”

she waved her hand, “just forget about it,”

he grinned, taking a seat on the floor and leaning on one of the legs of the table, “we’ll forget about it?” he asked in a giddy tone, happy to be in her good grace’s again.

she hummed in confirmation, popping another slice in her mouth with a carefree grin. he was about to cheer at the fact, but then she cheekily added in, “for the price of 10,000 beri, i’ll even forgive you for the last time you pissed me off.”

he immediately deflated at the twist, “but i don’t even know when that was-”

“ah, ah, that’s not my problem, it’s completely optional if you even wanna pay that debt off — i’ll just add more interest the longer you don’t pay it back,”

“hey, that’s taking it too far,” he whined like a kicked puppy, but she didn’t falter.

“you wanna argue with me again?”

“don’t know it was kind of fun last time,”

“i’ll kick you,”

“that’s sanji’s forte, nami,” he teased, making her slap him upside the head. he only grinned, weakly rubbing the spot, “you love me anyway, you’d never kick me~”

there was a bout of silence and [name] almost snickered in amusement, until he felt the heel of her shoe dig into his thigh. making him yelp in pain instead of giggling.

”whatever helps you sleep at night, [name]~” she said in the same tone that he used, a mocking grin on her face as he writhed in pain.

she wasn’t actually mad at him, she also didn’t even jab her heel into his leg that hard — he was purposely exaggerating to make her laugh some more. she found it endearing, sort of, and simply watched in amusement as he whined about the “never-ending” pain in his leg.

usopp - pressure by the 1975

“you’ve seen so many faces that i’ve never seen before. i left an unrewarding message telling you to come. overdramatic, automatically assume i’ll stay the same. there’s a change in pressure. we’re never gonna lie to you. my broken veins say that if my heart stops beating, we’ll bleed the same way.”

usopp was rather intimidated by [name]. similar to how chopper is, however, usopp had never gotten over this irrational fear and intimidation, yet. but it’s not the fear of “what will [name] do to us? will he betray us?” not that kind of fear. it’s more so the fear of being replaced and the fact that [name] could easily fill his space on the ship and do so much more than usopp could.

that’s what his doubts, worried, and voices in his head say at least. put himself down and uplift [name] in the same sentence. it’s a dangerous combination.

what usopp doesn’t know is that, [name] is rather envious of the sniper. he often watches the man and feels how deeply and dearly he wishes he could live life as usopp does. there is just something so envious about how usopp lives. while the sniper may think that he lives his life in fear and in a cowardice way, [name] thinks the opposite.

usopp is very brave, in his eyes. he thinks that usopp is also really selfless. qualities that [name] wishes he had. even on top of that, there are so many ways [name] wishes he was like usopp.

it’s ironic. how usopp beats himself up and wishes he were more like [name], the man himself wishes he were more like usopp.

“don’t you think your experience out on the sea gives you an advantage?” usopp asks, his eyes blown wide as he had heard [name] sincerely confess his envious emotions to the man. he didn’t believe him. how could he? when something as outlandish as the highly wanted man, figure of power ad intimidating, says to him — usopp — how jealous he is of how he lives. it already sounds like a terrible joke and an even worse lie.

“i guess, but that’s not what i’m talking about,” [name] leans forward and points his finger into usopp’s chest, “i’ve lost my heart, usopp, that’s what i mean.”

usopp blinks a couple of times, trying to process the words, but he can’t seem to understand what [name] means. he was a kind man, [name] has shown this ever since usopp has known him. despite the hostility he faced on board merry when they all first met, there was never an ounce of that being repaid to the rest of the crew. he just took the brash attitude with a smile and nod of his head.

“i don’t think it’s entirely my fault, i guess,” [name] continues on, lifting his finger off of usopp’s chest, “environment shapes a person and all…but there was definitely a line i had crossed on my own a long time ago that makes it so you can’t turn back, y’know?” usopp doesn’t respond because he doesn’t know how to.

“usopp, you’re a kind person, very kind. and i’m jealous of how far that kindness stretches. i can only throw my emotions so far before they snap,” he laughs as if what he had said was funny, but it really was a pitiful action. he didn’t think it was funny how cold and devoid of basic human understanding he has become. he thinks its sad…

and usopp still doesn’t completely understand. if he were in [name]’s position, to be so strong and so capable on his own, he’d be the happiest and most fulfilled man alive. to usopp, the answer to all of his problems is to become stronger and stronger until he is simply the strongest. of course, he sees that as impossible. mainly due to [name]’s existence reminding him that there are stronger people out there.

which is why usopp can’t understand what [name] means.

[name], the strong and feared by many pirate, could easily have the world in the palm of his hands with the amount of power he wields. and by that logic, he should feel like he is the most accomplished man. things like emotion wouldn’t really be the biggest deal, wouldn’t it? not when you have such an influence on the people around you due to your strength, right?

“i don’t understand…” usopp says softly, still trying to really wrap his head around it, “you’re stronger than me, isn’t that more important than whatever quality i have?”

[name] laughs, this time usopp can’t tell where it stems from. pity? genuine moment of happiness? stupor?

“you’d rather be strong instead of kind? i don’t think that’s true, usopp,” [name] says, wiping a tear from his laughter from the corner of his eye, “what i had to do to reach this point, you wouldn’t want that for yourself, even if it makes you strong. i want what you have, though, genuine courage and bravery.”

usopp almost sputtered out a laugh at that, thinking that [name] was just playing a joke on him. but with how serious [name] had become, it was clear that the man was not kidding.

“i think you’re brave, usopp, it makes me jealous. i wish i had as many capabilities that you had,” [name] sighs, resting his cheek in his palm, “it’d make life simpler. i wouldn’t have to worry about such stupid things, the stuff going on up here,” he tapes the side of his temple, “they’d all disappear in a moment’s notice. i think about too much. being strong doesn’t mean all of your problems are solved, y’know?”

“i don’t believe that,” usopp says firmly, shaking his head, “if i were stronger from the get go, many things would have been different. and i don’t mean any metaphorical stuff, no, i mean if i were as physically and mentally capable as you — my life would have changed for the better!”

usopp thinks about his hometown, what he could have done for the people there if he were more mature and strong, like [name] was, if he held himself differently, all that could have changed. to think that [name] would call what strength he had a burden, or insinuate it as one, was kind of annoying. usopp would do anything to be as strong as [name].

“well, if two opposites ends of the spectrum talk about the same thing, there would obviously be differing opinions. but i truly don’t think striving for that physical strength is worth that time and effort of yours, usopp. it’s good to be strong, yeah, but…overdoing it shouldn’t be the goal,” [name] advises, “besides, i think you’re fine as you are right now.”

“but there’s so much i could improve on,” a list sprouts in usopp’s head immediately.

“you are your own worst critic, of course there is so much you think you could improve on. but by focusing so much on that, you’re not highlighting your already existing strengths,” [name] looks disappointed as he speaks, petting his hair down on usopp’s bandana, “instead of trying to mimic or compare yourself to others, your practice should be more self-centered.”

usopp was going to emphasize there was nothing particularly interesting about how he currently was, but something was telling him that [name] wouldn’t allow such a critique to slide in his presence. usopp had never been able to see such a side of [name]. it was stern and strict, kind of intimidating, but there was definitely an undertone of nothing but care in his voice. he genuinely cared about how usopp viewed himself and his “strengths.” it made usopp almost turn into mush.

to think someone as strong as [name] cared about him so deeply. in his mind, someone of his capabilities shouldn’t even worry about him. what’s the saying? no one intentionally steps on bugs, it just happens? whatever, usopp thinks to himself, not being able to come up with the exact phrasing. you get what he means! he just never thought he was capable of even crossing [name]’s mind.

but, as he had just found out, it seems [name] thinks about him quite often. it’s flattering, but usopp reminds himself to not grow an ego out of nothing.

“we stand on equal ground, at the end of the day,” [name] says, a sense of finality in his voice, “we are all here for the same one or two reasons. to see luffy become the pirate king and achieve our own personal goals. that’s what we are all here for, on merry. i feel like we always overlook that simple fact. i tend to forget sometimes, too, but ground yourself, usopp. i understand why you would want to become stronger, i really do…but like i said, you’ll only hurt yourself overdoing it,”

“also, i don’t need you to be the strongest. i just need you to be there for luffy,” [name] added in, not hesitating as he spoke, “luffy doesn’t need the absolute strongest people on his crew, he needs support and his friends. if you’re already doing that, usopp, there really isn’t much else that’s to be expected of you. that goes for all of us.”

and with a firm slap on his shoulder, [name] walks away from the conversation with nothing but hope in how he might’ve been able to change usopp’s point of view. there’s no way of knowing for sure if it was successful.

“don’t need to be the strongest?” usopp thought out loud, looking out at the sea of thinking of his original dream from when he first joined luffy’s ship. he wants to be the bravest warrior on the sea…huh, he never realized it, but the word strongest wasn’t the one he was originally thinking of when he set out to sea.

after talking to [name], in an uncharacteristically serious conversation, it felt as if there was a weight lifted off of usopp’s shoulders. the change in pressure was noticeable and usopp really did feel lighter. he didn’t expect his talk with you to play out this way, but he wasn’t complaining. it was eye opening, but not in the way he imagined. he thought that he was going to get an ugly slap of reality; someone of your prowess going to tell him the hard truth that there was no room for weak people in the world, you were going to have carry his dead weight — something like that. but it never came.

instead you simply comforted him, but still gave him a hard pill to swallow. being strong wasn’t as important as he thought it was. perhaps it was because usopp had thought himself to be weak since he was young and you — granted he didn’t know your situation perfectly, but he could assume you were strong since you were young — who had been so capable since you were young. such different experiences, which si what made him feel so much whiplash after your conversation.

but he’s thankful. because he truly does feel relief in this moment. to know you value him and see him for who he is despite his lack in physical or battle strength. he likes knowing that, enjoys knowing that he is needed despite his flaws. he never knew he’d feel such sentiments from you, but he’s glad he sought out this conversation.

he experienced a significant change in pressure and he was lighter than ever.

sanji - moonlight on the river by mac demarco

“it’s so strange, deciding how i feel about you. it ain’t like, i ain’t used to going on without you. i’m home, with moonlight on the river, saying my goodbyes.”

the sound of a lighter flicking on could be heard echoing on the empty street. sanji’s lips were pursed around his cigarette, holding it steady as his hand was cupped around the end he was trying to light. [name] was too busy watching a family of ducks swim across the river they were walking along to realize that sanji was holding the now lit cigarette for him.

“oh, thanks,” [name] said, taking it into his fingertips and helping himself to the unhealthy treat. he kept it in his fingertips for as long as possible, sadly watching as sanji took it from him after a couple of seconds.

“why’re you always pouting? it’s an annoying look,” sanji grunted, moving the cigarette to the corner of his mouth so he could properly talk.

“cause i want it and you always end up hogging it,”

“well, who’s the one buying them, dipshit,” sanji scowled, taking teh cigarette from his mouth and forcing it into [name]’s, “you and luffy really have that in common, y’know? it’s like you two were born to complain,”

[name] grinned at the mention of luffy before realizing that sanji had just insulted him, making him smack him on the back of his head, “what a polite chef you are!”

“only to the women,” sanji said with pride, a grin on his face.

the two were walking along the river, late at night, just to get a breather from merry. nami had recently complained about the smell of smoke lingering far too long for her liking, so sanji had made it a habit to smoke as often as possible not on board merry. [name] invited himself on these walks, which sanji honestly didn’t mind. the company wasn’t actually that annoying and it was comforting, he guesses.

[name] and him would walk along through the town, making it back to merry in an hour or two and get a good night’s rest. sometimes, they’d even shower at the same time to speed up the process, but that’s a story for another time.

“do you like the taste of it?” sanji asked, breaking the silence. he watched carefully as [name] inhaled and blew out the smoke, the man turning to look at sanji in confusion, “the cigarette - do you like the taste of it?”

“what an odd question,” [name] said with his head slightly tilted.

“you have one of the most sensitive tongues on merry, it was just out of curiosity,” sanji noted, pointing out an obvious fact and why he drew that connection in the first place. this made the other make a sound of realization and nod his head in understanding.

“oh, well, not really? but also i don’t mind it…it’s not the worst thing i’ve ever had,” [name] said with a grin, taking another drag before flicking off the ash that built up at the tip.

“yeah, you and your hatred for sweets is a real pain,” sanji swiped the cigarette, “everyone else likes them and i got to prepare you your own batch,”

sanji didn’t really find it annoying or bothersome, truthfully. if anything, he found it quite exciting. challenging his knowledge on what would be palatable on someone that was picky on stuff like desserts, it was fun. getting to create new recipe and have the perfect tester there to show whether or not the bitter food was good or not.

but sanji would rather drop dead than admit any of that out loud. [name] didn’t need to know all those embarrassing things.

“you never have to, y’know? i can live without those dishes,” [name] said in a carefree manner. that made an angry tick mark appear on sanji’s forehead.

“oh, so your saying that my efforts are wasted? you’re gonna insult me, as a chef, just like that? don’t piss me off,” sanji sneered, covering up his true thoughts with outward hostility instead.

“haha, sorry, sorry,” [name] said waving his hand, obviously not taking sanji’s threats or tone of voice serious as he had a cheerful look on his face.

“why do you hate them so much? i mean, you practically vomited that one time you accidentally ate one,” sanji mumbled, more-so thinking out loud than actually looking for an answer, “luffy even knew about it, and if that idiot knows something is important enough to actually stick, then it must be something you’ve always disliked as a kid,”

there was silence as [name] took the cigarette from sanji and kept a hold on it, “hm, yeah, i guess i’ve always just hated sweets as a kid and i never grew out of it. it just isn’t my cup of tea,” a tight smile was on his face as he explained, “but if that’s the only thing left to eat and i’m starving, i’ll force it down! i also hate wasting food,”

slightly shocked at the confession, sanji peeked a look at [name] from the side, shaking his head in disbelief at how carefree [name] was talking about something so personal, and seemingly, sensitive.

“you won’t go starving anytime soon,” sanji spoke after a couple moments of silence, “somehow you manage to get your fill in with our captain’s big appetite, so i think you’ll really be fine,”

“if you think so,” [name] shrugged, still holding the cigarette between his long fingers. “i just don’t like them at all, the after affects of being hyper and all that, too. i don’t need that type of high-alert energy, y’know?”

the chef supposed he could understand. well, personally, he didn’t mind sweets and definitely wouldn’t turn down a perfectly fine dish simply because it was sweet. but he understands preferences, he was a chef at a restaurant where he got to see all different people walk through the doors.

sanji didn’t mind catering to [name]’s unique tastebuds, as he’s mentioned before.

another bout of silence washed over the two. another cigarette was bumped out of the carton, this time, [name] taking it to light. sanji held the lighter to the tip, watching carefully to see when he could pull away. his head was craned upwards to look at the cigarette hanging off of [name]’s lips.

“what about that tattoo on your back? where’s that from?”

[name] blinked at the question, smiling softly, “you’re awfully talkative tonight,” just as sanji was about to snap at him for saying something like that, he added in, “it’s nice, i like getting to talk on these walks of ours. feels real special.” a cloud of smoke followed his explanation and sanji ducked his head down to hide facial expression.

“i got it a long time ago, just when i was a teenager,” [name] mulled in thought, trying to recall the memory, “i got it a couple islands over from me and luffy’s home. they’re supposed to symbolize freedom…it sounds silly, but i really do believe that wings are what bring us freedom,” [name] looked up at the sky and smiled, “closer to up there is closer to freedom, i guess.”

“what? like some god?”

[name] scoffed, shaking his head, “hell no, just to the ones that watch over us, i guess. those you hold dear that…” his voice trailed off and he cleared his throat to stop himself from saying anymore.

sanji took in his words in silence.

“you get closer to them, you get closer to showing them how much you’ve accomplished. i don’t know, it’s nice to think about, and guides morals, i guess,” sanji remained silent the entire time, looking up at the sky with a conflicted expression.

the moon was shining bright on the both of them, refracting from every surface of the water and lighting up the area around them.

“that’s your idea of freedom?” sanji asked, pointing a lazy finger at the sky.

“i guess, i don’t really know. it could just be that i like the way it sounds,” [name] grinned, feeling mischievous as he spoke.

sanji made a sound that showed he was irked, unable to believe that the man who said something so sentimental was just as childish.

“what about you sanji? your idea of freedom?” [name] asked, taking the cigarette in his fingertips.

“i don’t know, i don’t think about that stuff half as much as you or luffy do,” sanji shrugged, “i don’t think my freedom will be compromised anytime soon, so it’s not something i have to worry about in keeping secure.”

[name] hummed in understanding. more silence before he spoke again, “and what about the ones you care about, what about their freedom?”

“if you’re talking about the crew, that’s a dumb question. do you really doubt everyone that much? think that they can’t protect themselves and their own freedom? their own dreams?” sanji was obviously defensive, an offended look on his face as he surveyed [name].

“no, it’s not like that,” [name] interjected, “you just don’t think about others that much?”

“don’t make it sound like i’m a selfish prick because i’m not,” sanji huffs, getting annoying with [name]’s wording and whatever his intentions were.

“i’m not saying that either. just because you think more about yourself than others doesn’t mean you’re a selfish prick. it was just a question, sanji,” [name] calmly responded, finding no reason to get angry with sanji for his attitude.

the two were capable of having a conversation without yelling directly at each other, shocker.

“it’s good to know what you want, it’s good to think about that — self-reflection or something,” [name] said, as calm as he was before, “it’s good to know how far you’re willing to go, to step up when the time comes. you know what i mean?”

sanji rolled his eyes, finding [name]’s tone aggravating, but decided not to comment on it. instead he snatched his cigarette back, “this type of conversation doesn’t suit a guy like you, it’s way too serious and complex,”

“i’m the one who initiated it, give me some more credit,” [name] whined, slapping sanji’s back as a means of defending himself, “i’m not an idiot.”

“really?” sanji deadpanned, almost laughing at the way [name] glared at him with such venom.

“what?! hey, i was the one trying to have a mature conversation with you and you’re the one who blew up on me, so who’s the more immature one,” [name] called out, pulling the bottom of his eyelid down in a taunting manner.

“i’m not immature, you were just asking some real dumb questions! of course i think about how to protect the crew if the time ever comes, but i don’t ever doubt them! isn’t that obvious? haven’t we sailed together long enough for this to be obvious to you?” sanji questioned, tone sharp as it was now his turn to interrogate [name].

the taller man hummed, “i suppose you’re right, i don’t know why i doubted you.”

“shit for brains,”

“thanks for being so reliable, sanji,” [name] smiled, throwing an arm around sanji’s shoulder with a wide grin on his face, “i know i can trust you. you know that, right?”

“whatever,” sanji said, uncharacteristically quiet as his shoulders and head slumped downward, hiding his facial expressions from [name].

“i mean it! you’re the strongest on merry, of course after me, oh and after luffy…hm, and i guess after zoro!” [name] said that last part in a rush, knowing it’d cause sanji to run after him in a fury. but before he detached himself from sanji’s side, he took the cigarette from him and pushed it to the corner of his mouth.

sanji processed his words, watching as [name] was running off in the direction of merry. then it clicked and he was fuming. his eyebrow became slanted as he pointed a finger at [name]’s running figure, “oi! come back here you dipshit! i’ll kick some manners into you! fucking imbecile!”

[name]’s laughter echoed in the air, along with sanji’s shouts of fury. the trail of smoke coming from the cigarette in the h/c haired man’s mouth disappearing into the night as sanji continued chasing [name] until they arrived on merry.

the blonde watched as [name] jumped onto the ship with easy, throwing the cigarette into the ocean, and teasing him once more by sticking his tongue out. then he was disappearing on deck, probably to the bathroom to shower before bed.

and sanji was breathing heavily as he watched, still on the ground and not on the ship. and he sighed to himself, putting a hand to his chest to calm his breathing. as well as racing heart. the other hand went up to his face, covering half of it as he mentally scolded himself to calm down.

god, [name] really did exhaust the hell out of sanji. in more ways than one.

tony tony chopper - forrest gump by frank ocean

“you run my mind, boy. running on my mind, boy. forrest gump. i know you, forrest. i know you wouldn’t hurt a beetle. but you’re so buff and so strong. i’m nervous, forrest. // forrest green, forrest blues. i’m remembering you. if this is love, i know it’s true. i won’t forget you. it’s for you, forrest. it’s for you forrest. forrest gump.”

chopper idolized [name], to put it very simply. from their first meeting, [name] had made a strong impression on the boy. first off, he knew he was a reindeer and correctly addressed him, which chopper learned would be a rare occurence since people seemed to think he was some sort of raccoon dog…

and ever since that moment, [name] had only shown chopper how strong and capable he was. sometimes, it makes the doctor feel inferior and not an adequate member of the straw hats because of the strength difference, but those feelings were truly rare. because [name] made sure to treat chopper as an equal as well as a friend, not someone beneath him.

chopper was currently lounging on the railway of merry, near the back of the ship and simply enjoying the breeze. it was a nice day outside and the smell of the sea was something he could never get tired of.

“chopper? what’re you doing?” [name] voice made chopper lift his head from the planks and offer a cheesy grin.

“just relaxing,” [name] smiled at the response, plopping down next to chopper and spreading his long limbs out as he sighed in content.

“do you mind if i join you?”

chopper shook his head, a smile on his face as he watched [name] visibly relax and get comfortable next to him.

“the sun’s not bothering you? it’s pretty hot, y’know,” [name] commented, waving his hand to fan the reindeer, who merely shook his head.

“nope, cause the sea breeze is cooling me off,” chopper explained, making [name] hum in understanding. chopper watched as [name] flapped the bottom of his shirt up and down to allow more air flow, showing that he was affected by the heat.

chopper remained silent, eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly before he decided to not ask the question that was on his mind. as a doctor, he had a hunch as to why [name] was so sensitive to hot and cold weather, especially since their first meeting on drum island. but it was just speculation and theory. he never got a clear answer from [name]. but, then again, chopper never asked.

honestly, he was very curious about [name]. he was like a medical anomaly. dr. kureha and him were probably the only people that knew about how strange his existence was. well, chopper definitely was way more shocked about his being, but dr. kureha simply shrugged it off. this made chopper believe [name]’s case wasn’t all that crazy…

but the more he thinks about it, the more it pesters him. how is something like that even possible?

just as he was drowning in his thoughts, there was a sudden pressure against his nose. he blinks, eyes zoning in on the finger that was pressing against him. he looks up, finding a grinning [name] already staring at him.

“what were you thinking about? i could practically see steam coming from your head, chopper,” his own observation made him chuckle and chopper smiled sheepishly at being caught.

“nothing,” chopper clears his throat a couple of times before speaking again, “say, [name]?” a hum from the man he was addressing, “you’ve been a pirate for a long time right?”

e/c eyes stray away and stare out at the sea before he nods in confirmation.

“then, have you ever met anyone stronger than you? what was the craziest thing you’ve ever seen?”

[name] chuckles at the question, pursing his lips, “what’s up with everyone wondering about strong people and things? i swear, you and usopp are obsessed with that type of stuff,” it wasn’t a mean comment, the fond smile on [name]’s face made that obvious, but chopper still felt his face get warm in embarrassment.

“ever since we’ve left my island, i feel like we haven’t met anyone that exceeded you. that’s why i was wondering if before you joined luffy’s crew you had a run in with someone stronger than you,” chopper explained, feeling shy. “even in alabasta, you didn’t have a lot of trouble with the people we were facing…i didn’t see any fights! but, everyone was so badly injured, and then you were only injured because of the whole falling out of the sky thing,”

[name] laughs at the memory, scratching his neck, “that’s true, i guess. but to answer your question, there are many physically stronger people than me, without a doubt. but i still think i’m the strongest,” he’s confident and chopper can tell the man truly does believe that. it’s obvious in the way he speaks and carries himself. but what he just said was directly contradictory, wasn’t it?

“the craziest thing i’d ever seen…” [name] thinks out loud, making chopper look at him in wonder, “a guy that could control everything in a certain radius! he was a doctor like you, actually. when i first met him, it was kind of scary,”

“woah!!” chopper’s eyes immediately sprouted stars and [name] almost cooed at the sight. sometimes the man forgets how unique his experiences are, especially to someone like chopper. someone that had known only his island and that was it. “did you guys fight?! was he also another pirate?!”

“he’s another pirate, yeah, but…well, i don’t think you can call what happened fighting since i beat him up!” [name] flashed his widest grin at chopper and threw up a thumbs up.

“so cool!!!” chopper exclaimed, clapping his hands.

“i have a lot of stories, if you want to hear them?” [name] offers, stretching his long limbs out and letting out a groan at the relief.

“how about fights and stuff? i wanna see you fight some day!” the stars in chopper’s eyes seemed as if they were going to never go away as he giddily spoke to [name].

“i don’t know…most of them are really lack luster,” [name] sweatdrops, watching as chopper visibly deflates, “but that’s only because i beat everyone before they even had a chance,” and he was back to having stars in his eyes.

“woah!! so cool!!” chopper’s hooves were glasped together as he eagerly waiting for more stories.

“by the time luffy becomes pirate king, chopper, you’re going to have so many more stories than i do,” [name] comments fondly, “i never got to properly thank you, i think,”

“what for?”

“for not telling anyone about,” [name] gestures to his scars, a grin on his face despite the sad reality of his appearance, “i appreciate it,”

chopper only nodded, remembering the first time him and dr. kureha discovered the markings as well as their origins…or at least their theories on where they had come from.

”were you scared when you saw them? why do you look so scared now?”

the poor reindeer flinched at the question causing [name] to start laughing at the reaction. chopper flailed in explaining himself, not wanting to offend the man, “no, i was just, just remembering! the first time i saw them! and no, i wasn’t scared! there was no reason to be scared,” chopper’s voice trailed off as he realized that [name] was only teasing him earlier, looking off to the side to avert his eyes.

“if you say so,” [name] continues on teasing, poking the reindeer’s blue nose to which chopper smacks his hand away.

“me and dr. kureha were studying them,” chopper murmurs, “whoever had done the stitches, considering how miniscule they are, obviously did a good job. but…how were they even able to get the me-”

“pft, that’s not important,” [name] says with a carefree smile, waving his hand, “well, you’re right, the person who did them was a reaaalll professional, but i don’t think it’s important in explaining how or why,”

“was it the pirate you mentioned earlier that did them?” chopper curiously asked.

“definitely not,” [name] laughed, trying to imagine his friend being the one to give him those scars, “no, i’ve had these for a long time, chopper. which is why it’s not really relevant to me in talking about them. it doesn’t matter to me anymore, but i still don’t want people knowing so — shhh!”

chopper blinks a couple of time before nodding his head, “i’ll keep it a secret, [name],”

“thanks, chopper, i know i can trust you,” as [name] reaches out to pat chopper on his furry back, the light hit his silver necklace so perfectly that it made chopper cover his eyes to hide from the shine. that was also a big deal to [name] back then, but it was something that probably had heavy sentimental meaning.

either way, chopper was going to keep everything [name] had just told him a secret.

seeing the pleased and relaxed expression on [name]’s face, chopper was glad to know he had some sort of impact on him. it made him especially happy to know it caused a positive reaction from [name]. for how much the man does for the crew and chopper, such as dealing with his “scaredy cat” antics, the reindeer was happy to somewhat return the favor — even if it was miniscule.

meanwhile, in the back of [name]’s mind, he couldn’t help but feel a dark looming feeling only grow larger. he fought back the urge to frown, reminding himself on how understanding and sweet chopper was for keeping his secret safe. but, deep down, he was plagued with the truth and it stressed him to no end to think about the one day his secrets would have to be laid out for all the other straw hats to know too. even now, chopper didn’t even know the full truth and it was already stressing him out.

but, [name] would deal with that when the time came for it. right now, he was just happy to be looking out at the sea with his dear crew mate next to him.

nico robin - wurli by dominic fike

“stepping outside for you, then i put links on both wrists cause you got control over me. and you got jokes like you don’t need love, baby. we don’t need long. just follow my lead for once. i can never make up for the time. i’m gone make the wait all worth the ride.”

robin found [name] to be an interesting person to study.

a couple of years younger than her, a significant amount, actually, and still holding onto such a heavy weight of trauma and relatability to her. she smiles softly each time she thinks about him for too long. it’s a sad smile. on one hand, she’s happy that there could possibly be someone in her presence that could understand where she comes from as well as understanding her secrets.

but it pains her to know that someone so similar, with such similarly lived experiences, is beside her side. she wouldn’t wish a fraction of her life onto anyone else, to know that [name] undoubtedly had more than a fraction of it was heart breaking.

to many people’s surprise, nico robin is an extremely sentimental and emotional person. she has just simply forced herself to suppress those attributes of herself due to the world she lives in. but she knows herself, she knows that one of her weak point could be her emotional side.

he’s a grown man, she tells herself, to prevent herself from pitying the man too much, especially because she knows he would not appreciate a feeling of pity from anyone.

“do you want a cup of coffee, robin?” his soothing voice breaks her out of her daydreaming, collecting herself fast enough that she is able to answer with a quick nod and soft thank you. “no problem~”

she watches him expertly maneuver through the kitchen, an obvious sense of comfortability around him as he does.

what robin doesn’t know is that in the same way she finds [name] interesting to study, he feels an immense sense of wonderment and curiosity for the older woman. he knows that behind luffy, she is the only crew member that knows the most about him — beyond the headlines and bounty on his head. the other straw hats had their first impressions of him already set in stone, and he can’t blame them for that, but robin is different.

she had undoubtedly knows more than she currently lets on. only hinting to it briefly before, as far as [name] can recall.

he wonders if she has the wrong idea about him. but then he thinks of her situation and finds it hard to believe she would believe only surface level information about him. he has more faith in her than that. frankly, he’s curious enough to ask her. but he’s too scared.

genuinely terrified to know what it is that she knows, how much of his past does she know and have full capabilities of telling others about. not that she would, but naturally [name] doesn’t like not being in control of what others know about him. he often thinks if its worth it to take that risk and just ask her, he’d probably get the answer he wants.

but, wouldn’t that just be awkward?

he shakes his head as he pours the water over the ground up coffee beans, stealing a couple of whole beans from the bag to his right and chewing on them, deep in thought. he carefully carries the two tea cups to the kitchen table, taking a comfortable seat across from her and sipping his beverage.

“what are you thinking about, [name]?”

“i don’t know,” he answers semi-honestly. he can’t actually tell her where his mind wanders, but what he was thinking about…he couldn’t even collect his thoughts properly.

she only hummed, leaving them to sit in silence. but then out of nowhere, [name] slammed his head onto the table and let out a loud groan. she blinked in shock, poking his shoulder several times across the table.

“are you alright, orphan-san?”

“don’t call me that,” he mutters against the table. “that just doesn’t even sound morally right,”

she laughed behind her hand, apologizing quickly, “well, the government was never one to give morally correct names to wanted pirates,”

“yeah, i’m familiar,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, “devil’s child, cursed orphan…it’s all such a shit show over there,”

robin isn’t surprised when he brings up her own epithet, “after hearing my name, you knew right away, huh?”

he thinks back to after they had left alabasta, the moment of realization, and nods in confirmation. a name was all he needed to know the woman’s entire history. he frowned, remembering exactly what it was.

“yeah, we’re the same,” he says with zero hesitation. “robin, we have the same enemy, y’know?” she hums and nods, unsure of the direction he was taking the conversation, “so, you know you’re not alone in this.”

she paused, sipping her coffee to avoid looking at him. because if she, she knew his e/c eyes would be expectantly peering at her and waiting for some form of agreement. truthfully, she didn’t want to make some sort of known “alliance” with [name] on where they stood on their shared enemy.

she’d rather not involve him. even if it were partially true.

”i sailed alone on the seas for a long time, both recently and a while ago,” he continued on, leaning into his chair and looking up at the ceiling, “being alone is more painful than getting hurt, luffy said that to me once. and for once that idiot was right about something. that’s why i’m trying to tell you now that that’s not your case.”

“i appreciate the sentimen-”

“i don’t want to get too emotional and dig too deep on stuff about this, though. i think just saying it is enough, if you ever had doubts, y’know?” he suddenly stands up, an embarrassed look on his face, “this is definitely not my style, blegh, i hate getting sentimental out of nowhere,” he hunches his shoulders, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he digests the situation he had just created.

she watches as he chugs the rest of his coffee down, places the empty cup into the sink, and easily walks out of the room. the kitchen door is softly shut behind him and robin is now left in silent stupor by herself.

she glances at the dark cup of coffee in front of her, smiling softly as she thinks about the man.

“he really is an enigma,” she muses to herself, finishing the last drops by herself, “knowing everything about him is like knowing nothing,”

[name] was on the forefront of her mind the rest of the day, studying him and the behaviors he had shown her the entire time they had been acquainted. he had turned what would have been a soppy, probably emotional conversation, into a curt and brisk one-sided pep talk. regardless, she still had much to think about how he interacted with the others on the crew. what his dynamic was with everyone. and the state of their relationship, even though they had only recently juts met…robin feels a strong connection with him.

he really was interesting to study.

ace - dress by taylor swift

“our secrets moments in a crowded room, they got no idea about me and you. there is an indentation in the shape of you, made your mark on me — a golden tattoo. pining and anticipation, my hands are shaking from holding back from you. all of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting, my hands are shaking from all this. say my name and everything just stops. i don’t want you like a best friend. only bought this suit so you could take it off. take it off. carve your name into my bedpost because i don’t want you like a best friend. // and i woke up just in time, now i wake up by your side. my one and only, my lifeline.”

“ace! c’mere,” [name] called out, making the ravenette’s head snap up and look for the man calling him. he briefly apologized to usopp, who was showing him a contraption he made, and then walked off in the direction of where the sound came from. usopp and chopper watched as ace was eagerly walking away, shrugging their shoulders at the man’s rush.

“[name]? where are yo-”

suddenly, a hang was coming out from around the corner and yanking ace by strands of his hat and into a soft embrace.

“wanna show you merry,” [name] whispered, smiling softly as he felt how warm ace was in his arms. “were you doing something important?”

“no,” ace answered instantly, looking up at [name] and taking off his hat. it was placed back onto [name]’s head and the two were walking through the ship, [name] leading.

their arms were looped with one another to stay close, and because [name] found the warmth from ace so comforting, and soon small talk spurred alive between the two.

“how is everyone treating you?” ace asked first, smirking as he watched [name]’s expression, “they’re all being good to you?”

the man rolled his eyes and shot ace a deadpan look, “why are you acting as if i am a kid and that they’re the scum of the earth? obviously everything is going fine, we’re a crew, ace,”

“sorry, can’t help but worry sometimes,” ace shrugged, tone light and teasing. “gotta look out for you when i can,”

“who said you had to do that?”

“i did, it’s my duty,”

“your duty is to keep yourself out of your own trouble, not worry about others. worrying about others like you do is gonna get you killed,” [name] advised, squeezing ace’s arm against his body and turning them into the dormitories. “well, i guess i’m a hypocrite — i worry about you a lot too,”

“you’re not gonna ask if my crew is treating me well though? that stings, [name],” ace fake winces, taking a seat into a hammock and letting it rock him back and forth.

“shut up,” [name] smirks, pushing ace down and climbing in next to him. ace tries his best to relax, not wanting to show that he was obviously freaking out at [name]’s actions. the h/c-haired man is none the wiser, simply getting comfortable against ace’s chest and hugging him tight.

“i missed you a lot, ace,” [name] speaks softly, like a whisper, “you fucking idiot, you should’ve just swallowed your pride and joined luffy’s crew,”

“or, you should’ve been smarter and joined the whitebeard pirates,” ace countered, resting his hand on top of [name]’s head.

“and leave the pirate king’s crew? don’t be dumb,” [name] shoots back, faithful to the idea of luffy being the pirate king.

ace can only scoff, a lazy smirk on his face. luffy, that brat, had truly shook their childhood selves when he declared what his dreams were as well as so confidently saying that he was going to be the king of pirates. and ace couldn’t believe that [name] so easily threw himself into luffy’s arms and crew, even when they were children.

ace envies luffy in that aspect, he supposes. how he was so capable of swaying [name]. if only ace had that ability, he’d have used it for his selfish leverage at this point. especially with [name] in his arms like this. if he had a fraction of an influence that luffy had, ace would have offered once again for [name] to join his side forever.

but knowing how devoted to luffy [name] was, ace knew it was useless.

so he’ll just cherish this moment now.

“ugh, i’m hot,” [name] groaned, sitting upright and throwing off the shirt that he was wearing. cuddling up next to a human oven was not for the weak!

ace watches with practical hearts in his eyes as he watches [name] move so fluidly in discarding his layers. then his hands reach out and lift the bottom of [name]’s shirt for him, the fabric falling from his fingers the second they weigh into his hand.

“thanks, ace,”

the ravenette can only hum in acknowledgement. he bites his lip, forcing himself into silence to not ruin the moment, and shuffles his body over to accommodate [name] by his side.

the taller man so easily fit into his side. despite the obvious size difference, but neither of them minded.

then ace’s thoughts began trailing off. he can’t help but think about if things were different. his mind often went to that when it was silent. how the present would be if it were ace in the forefront of [name]’s mind, instead of god knows what. he yearns to know what the man truly thinks of him.

he wonders what would [name] think of him he had found out that his name was etched into his skin.

he doesn’t blame anyone for not really noticing the ink. it was on his back and was miniscule in comparison to his whitebeard tattoo. on the backside of where his heart would be, permanently tattooed into his skin is the other man’s name. ace had gotten it as one of his first tattoos, actually, much before he got the whitebeard one.

he was pretty worried that the jolly roger would cover it, but after the artist on the no-name island assured him it wouldn’t, he relaxed. and to this day, the ink remains strong and bold, hardly faded with the time that had passed.

and despite it being small and barely noticeable, ace simply knowing that it’s there is more than enough for him.

ace wonders how [name] would react if he saw it. if he saw for himself how far ace is willing to go to prove his devotion and love for the man. he’d get his name tattooed and so much more, in a moment’s notice with no doubts.

ace was a loyal and devoted man. this [name] knew, but he didn’t truly know the full extent. the freckled man smiles to himself as he thinks about how [name] would react.

he shivers as he remembers the feeling of the needle etching the name permanently into his skin. it stung, but after a certain amount of time, it became a dull, vibrating sensation. he squeezes you close to him as he thinks about it, wishing he had had you there with him in that moment.

“[name]?” he drawls out his name, as if that’ll make the moment between them last longer.

“ace?” he mimics it easily, making ace smile at his behavior. he really hadn’t changed all that much from when they were younger…

“would you consider getting a tattoo for me?” he asks, the question slipping past his lips in a rather meek tone.

there is a hum to show that [name] was thinking before the man finally announces, “i would, i definitely would,”

ace thinks of the tattoo that [name] already had, the one he had seen for himself again when the man discarded his shirt. the expansive wings that were tattooed into his beautiful s/c skin. ace’s finger began dancing on the outline of them, a soft smile on his face as he remembers their meaning.

”what would get for me? something as big as this one?”

[name] weakly slaps his hand into ace’s chest, “don’t say that, don’t be dumb,”

“what? it was just a question,” ace weakly defends himself, but he understands where [name] was coming from. he’d be the only one that did, to be honest, and maybe luffy — if they’re trusting that the younger one wasn’t as emotionally constipated as they thought. “but, what would you get for me?”

“i don’t know, i haven’t thought about it,” he answers honestly, making ace pout at the lack luster answer.

“not even a little bit?”

“i don’t want to get a tattoo for you for a long time, ace. ideally, never,” ace was about to question why, feeling somewhat offended, but catching the distraught look on [name]’s face he bites his tongue. it doesn’t take him long to realize why [name] had said that. silently, he holds [name] close and hugs him. “i never want to get something like this for you,”

“it doesn’t have to be something like that-”

“why would i need a tattoo of you when i know i’ll see you again then?” [name] cuts him off, holding ace tight to his person, scared he’ll slip away, “i know i don’t have to, but the association of it is too much for me…i don’t want to think of it like that, but i can’t help it. i’ll only get a tattoo for you if you die, but that won’t happen for a long time, so just drop it.”

that leaves a long silence hanging in the air.

“you’re right, i won’t die for a long time,” ace finalizes, smiling softly at the way [name] was so easily turned into a vulnerable state of a man. not because he enjoyed the sight of it, per say, but found it heart warming to know he could invoke such an emotion in him. he was stupid for assuming he couldn’t, but insecurities are insecurities for a reason. not insecure of who they were referring to, but rather of luffy. insecure of how much that boy with the straw hat could alter [name]’s emotions and well-being. to know he had that same affect on [name] made his chest bloom with a raging warmth.

“i know you won’t, which is why i won’t think about it for a long time,” it sounds like that’s the final end to their conversation and ace is almost ready to leave it as it is. but leaving it on such a sour note leaves a bad taste in his mouth.

so he says in a light tone, “get a spade for me, right above your heart. that’s all i want,”

another slap to his bare chest is shamelessly delivered to ace and he takes it, this time with a hearty laugh.

“don’t talk about it anymore, okay? i’m serious.” [name] weakly scolds, resting his palm on ace’s heart and trying to immortalize the feeling of his heart pumping against his hand.

at the feeling of his large hand resting on his skin, ace remembers just how badly he had missed this. just being close to each other and being able to just touch each other. being so far apart took a bigger toll on him than he imagined.

“what about you? want me to get another tattoo for you?” ace asks, curious to hear what [name] had to say.

“hm, i don’t know, what would you have had in mind if you did?” now it was [name]’s turn to have his fingers dance on the ink of ace’s skin, “i really like this one already,” ace can feel the smile on [name]’s face grow in size, “i really do,”

“i’m glad,” ace comments, “i got it for you after all, it would suck if you didn’t like it.”

another slap to his chest.

“as for another one…” [name] goes silent, trying to think, “wouldn’t you just get my name? i mean, that’s the only one other thing you could get for me,”

ace blinks, wondering how [name] could so easily read him.

“really, you think so? that’s a pretty big commitment,” ace comments, trying to play it off casually and not show that he was freaking out very hard on the inside. [name] had so easily predicted him! but, at least the man didn’t know that it was a reality…

“i know, but that’s the thing with you — you’re completely committed and loyal. i think you’re definitely the type to just get my name,” [name] grins up at him, teasing him by rufflinf his hair.

“oh, shut up,” ace defends himself, smooshing [name]’s face far away, “i’d never get something as cheesy as that,”

“i never said you would, i was just predicting!!” he puts his hands up in surrender, making ace sigh and release the palm he was resting on his face. “who knows, maybe next time we see each other you’re gonna have my name tattooed on your forehead because you love me that much!”

it was an obvious tease, but it got ace incredibly flustered. he sighed, looking off to the side, trying to hide his blush and be stubbornly in denial of how accurate [name]’s prediction were.

“well, i like this one you have for now and i think it’s perfect,” [name] says, lifting ace’s spirits one last time and tapping the skin before getting out of the hammock and grabbing his shirt off of the floor. “let’s go back up, the crew might have discovered something,”

“you don’t wanna stay here longer with me?” ace whines, half joking and half serious. he wishes he could stay here forever. just with [name].

[name] smiles softly, shaking his head and watching as the ravenette reluctantly gets out of his resting position.

“whatever, next time you owe me a proper nap,” ace grumbled, stretching and walking out of the dormitory area.

“yeah, when’s next time?”

“i don’t know, but i guess on my pop’s ship. i’ll bring you to meet the family, then,” ace shrugs as if it’s no big deal, but deep down he’s eager to have the most important person in his life ([name], if it wasn't obvious) meet his found family.

“i’ll look forward to it,” [name] says sincerely, smiling as he looks at the tattoo on ace’s back. he’d be more than honored to meet them, meet the people that had given ace hope in having a shot in the world — for people to take him seriously.

if he had just shifted his e/c more downwards, he would have seen the commemorative tattoo of the person that had singlehandedly given ace’s life meaning. an etching of ink that was more powerful and sentimental than [name] would have probably realized.

after all, [name] was the first only and only person to make ace realize his life wasn’t completely worthless and that there was hope for him. but that’s a story for another time.

-

[ .ᐟ ]  if there are any typos, ignore for now. it is 5:55 am (omg coincidence) as im posting this and i plan on knocking out immediatley after i hit publish <3 i will fix any major mistakes hwne i wake up I HOPE U ENJOYED EVERYONE OKKKK BYE (im going to update very very very very soon btw <3) (and i actually mean it by very soon) (porbably tomorrow / technically today) 

[ofourlee]

megumi x reader

principle 1: date a guy with glasses so you can straighten them after a makeout session!

your lips pull away from his, and for a second, the only sound is the shared, uneven breaths between you.

megumi’s glasses are completely askew, sitting crooked on his nose, one side pressed higher against his cheek while the other hangs low.

the lenses are fogged, blurring the warmth in his eyes that still linger on your face.

a laugh bubbles up from you, soft and a little breathless, as you reach up to straighten them.

your fingertips brush his skin, delicate as you adjust the frames back into place.

you nudge them up the bridge of his nose, and he stays still, letting you take your time like it’s a part of the intimacy, the way you touch him even in these small moments.

“there,” you murmur, inspecting your work, thumb tracing along the edge of the frame. “better?”

megumi blinks, the world coming back into focus, and gives you that familiar, lopsided grin, the one that always makes your heart skip.

“much better,” he replies, his voice low and soft, still thick with the closeness you just shared.

his hand slips to your waist, pulling you in again, but you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips as you teasingly push his glasses up one more time for good measure.

“just making sure,” you say, but before you can say more, his lips are on yours again, and this time, the glasses stay perfectly in place.

[bloodyboi]

[floral-poisons]

kind of wanna reinforce this here. because i’ve seen ai writing become so popular on tik tok.

ai writing is not okay.

it’s literally theft. just like how ai art steals, ai writing steals. it’s using authors’ very real work to generate whatever you type in. and this also needs to be said as well.

writing is a form of art. fanfiction is a form of literature.

seeing this all over my fyp is REALLY discouraging. fanfic itself is already a labor of love and we love it when you interact. but please do not use ai writing for your fanfic needs when this writing literally steals from fanfic authors.

genuinely don’t know if this post will go around because my interactions outside of hcs are shit, but i hope it does.

[echoofadream]

i wanna see my favorite patient jealous PLEASE PLEASE

Your favorite patient...

"ngh- n-not fair....ahh~"

"What do you mean it's not fair? Was it fair when you threw my phone cause you couldn't stand me talking with a patient?"

"Ngh- plea- ahh~~"

He was pulling on the restraints that prevented him from getting off the bed, but to no avail. The feeling of your thumbs pressing on the wet tip of his cock was adding to the already existing overstimulation.

"How many times have you cum?"

"Ahh~ ngh- three?"

You squeezed his balls hard, earning a high pitched whimper from the man. "Four times" you said "do you not know how to count??"

"G-ahh~ sorry! 'm so s-sorry doctor~..."

"What are you apologizing for huh?" The tips of your fingers were barely brushing against his sensitive shaft, but it was more than enough to send shivers down his spine.

"F-for uhh... throwing your phone when I ngh- thought you uhh you...when you talked to your patient...yes that...uhh I want you all to...myself..."

You chuckled. "Dumb fuck, you think I need more than I already have? Do you think I'm not content with a slut who opens his legs anytime I ask?"

"Aahhh~" Surprisingly he still had it in him. He squeezed his eyes shut as his body contracted, drops of white cum joining the puddle on his stomach as soon as they spurted out of his poor red cock. Panting heavily he stared at you with loving eyes.

"'m yours...ahh ahh...your good boy and 'm the only one...'m so hap...ahh...love you doctor..."

You kissed his forehead, rubbed his cheek with your hand, whispering praises into his ear, making him giggle like a little boy. "Love you too, sweet boy. You did so good for me"

[dabisbratz]

𝑀𝐸𝑅𝐼𝒩𝒢𝒰𝐸 𝒟𝒪𝐿𝐿 — kento nanami x male!reader

himbo!reader , farmer!au , strangers/friends/lovers , meet - cute , inaccurate farming techniques , lawyer!nanami , slow burn , depictions of injury ( minor burns ) , check - ins , dumbification , vaguely implied age gap (~5 years) , hand kink , inexperienced reader , light feminization , blowjobs , anal , mating press , fingering , hand-holding , praise , degradation , slut - calling , dirty talk , spit / drool , under-negotiated kink , aftercare

w.c; ~ 13.8k

sonny says. . . naaamiiii !!! {cry} {cry} mbaby :c can ybelieve s’is mfirst nami fic ?!?! just tbe clear, the reader’s size or height isn’t explicitly stated, but he’s vaguely hinted toward bein/appearin physical stronger than nanami.

‘ Next stop: Sekichiku ’

When he wakes up, Kento expects sunlight peeking through greenery— warm, yellow rays of light that dance and flicker across his eyelids. Warm, yellow beams that caress his cheek like the knuckles of someone tender, the palms of someone sweeter. It’ll overwhelm him at first, so bright and unapologetic as his eyes adjust and focus, but he’ll quickly crash, pupils constricting as the disturbance dwindles. And, suddenly, the star’s saturation will be comforting. It’ll be like a second. Just slower paced, peaceful. He expects the rustle of leaves, connected to strong branches and even stronger roots that dig into deep, rich soil. He expects to roll over in his temporary bed, breathing gently beneath shade, shielding his eyes from the welcoming invasion and blanketing him in a seamless flow of cool air.

When he wakes, Kento expects to hear the chirping of birds. It’s never quite enough to hear them in Tokyo. The strum of wind as it tickles his nose and pushes him forward. The swaying of grass— the smell is still so freshly imprinted in his brain, as it makes his head swim while crystal drops glide across its surface — a coarse underfoot of greenery that prickles the souls of his feet.

Tranquility by his side, urging him to get out of bed, chirping in an excited voice as it tugs on his wrist. He expects solitude, rolling its tangerine eyes and tapping its foot impatiently, “This is the break you’ve waited twenty-seven years for.”

But, instead, he finds himself clutching his chest, his heart beating with an unfamiliar pace that isn’t so calm. His body feels cold, like he’s been submerged in the deepest part of the ocean, unrelenting and ruthless as wave after wave crashes into his ribcage. The static in his ears grows louder and louder, ready to combust and burst his eardrums. Instead of the rustle of leaves, the cruel hustle and bustle of city life storms forward against his chest, shoving him back and forth. Back and forth, to and fro, against his body as his knuckles turn white and his vision starts to spot. Back and forth, as he comes undone.

It’s been so long, he’s not quite sure just how to unwind.

He starts off slow, swallowing air in desperate heaps until his legs relax, spreading toward the cushion arms of his faux-velvet chair. Then he flexes his fingers, draws them into tight fists and releases the digits until the shaking has stopped. Sips his complimentary white-wine with newfound steadiness, and tries not to choke when the intercoms ring,

‘Now approaching: Sekichiku.’

It’s a quaint little village, your district, where everyone knows everyone and the news is always, no matter where you are, city-wide. Stone-clad pavement and moss decalled windows, there’s a small blanket of achroous fog further north of town square. Yet, despite that, there’s an ever growing city of greenery and agriculture. With a small population and himself being the only passenger to unload at the station, it seems to be a lot busier than he’d originally thought. Street-food stalls and vendors, selling freshly baked goods and syrupy, savory sweets. It’s not like Tokyo, no, there’s no rush. No pushing or shoving, no overcrowded lines, no smells of smoke and burnt coal.

In fact, the air is rather crisp— the further his legs take him, the more apparent. No longer are his lungs breathing in the stench of sickness or body odors, no longer is he pushing past the fortunate, just to shove the unfortunate. And, admittedly, it’s a bit of a culture shock— but it’s not unwelcome. Regardless, Kento keeps his suitcase close, pushes it forward, sidestepping polite smiles and local shop owners.

He basks in it. The genuine nature to it all, the healthy glow of the atmosphere despite the steam, the fog, the chill to the air. He considers this a luxury— the closest to a vacation he’ll get, even if he’s technically ‘on the clock.’ Still— he soaks in the sights of hugging trees, of mossy roads and cobblestone streets. The colorful banners that jump with life, the lanterns and yellow-lighting that illuminates the day— he’s sure at night they’re even more wondrous. And, oh, the smells. Not at all like tokyo— there isn’t an overwhelming mixture of perfumes and colognes, no fast-food chains competing through aromatic smells, no heavy scents of tobacco littering the air. It's crisp, it’s ripe.

He almost takes no offense to the collision against his side— nor the screeching sound of surfaces grinding against each other, nor the loud and abrasive cry of the man bumping into him, accompanied by the crack of an apple’s core against the ground.

“Woah,” Warm breaths pan down the base of his neck, even warmer hands wrapping around his bicep with strength Nanami is sure shouldn’t be normal for a typical, everyday civilian. He involuntarily grunts, a deep sound that rumbles in his throat and earns an eager, yet apologetic chuckle. “You alright? Y’almost went flyin’!”

His brows furrow quizzically at that. First— he’s certain it’s the latter who nearly lost an arm and a leg with his tumble. Second, he hadn’t expected such a youthful, bouncy voice from the very stature shadowing acast him. Not even a bit, it doesn’t match the muscle straining through thermal clothing at all, let alone the sheer square feet of area being taken up by one person. Blocking his vision almost completely, standing straight— at an angle— that blocks a stall for fresh produce and flaky, steaming bread. The goods speak for themselves, crusted over in golden brown mountains and cloud-like, moist cross-sections.

Swallowing, Kento nods, eyeing the poorly drawn sign for fresh bread. Drawn in sharpie, the prices are written in big, bold, red letters. Endearing, almost, the curve and loop of each letter and number— the lines of each to-scale doodle of bread. Nothing like Tokyo, not nearly as artificial, not perfectly clean-cut. Not so cookie-cutter. There’s some personality in it, as juvenile as it may be. And it’s a shame, really, how promising the stand looks. Apples that shine a golden shade of red, bread that’s glazed in a sweet, sticky layer of yellow molasses and savory honey. And though he’d love to indulge, Kento has yet to label himself as the type. “Great, thank you.” Is all he says, pulling his suitcase along the perimeter of the stand.

Some other time, then.

The days are long as they are hard. The sun has yet to fully set, and still, the Earth pulls and pulls to weigh it down onto your shoulders. The sky is painted in hues of orange and purple, strokes of tangerine and lavender roaming past your bird's eye view. Your back pops as you stretch, arms tensing against the woven basket of leftover harvest, shiny red fruits aligned with the horizon and reaching toward the tiny glimpse of departing stars.

Where blossoms grow from tiny seeds, and orchids dance in gentle breeze— beds upon beds of farmland and agriculture drape the outskirts of the farmstead. Though the weather is turning, branches are starting to grow bare and bloom in color, the wind picks up its seasonal chill, and the clouds have begun to dissipate into the sky. . . The well-received proof of your hard work is still something to behold.

“—ome any minute, now,” You’ve heard it all before, your mother gossiping to her farmer-wife friends as she nurses sweet teas and tangerine tiramisu under her calloused, warm hands. You’d been a mere two steps away from where she sits at the open-island kitchen, shoes tipped in the illuminated speckle of celadon clearing just adjacent to the sliding, front, cedarwood door. “Said so, at least. Did you hear. . . ” Windchimes sing in welcome, soft and mellow as the door opens and shuts behind you, socked feet slipping from boots to warm, fuzzy slippers.

“M’back, Mama,” You mumble, half-humming along to the tune of muffled windchimes the further you walk, arms hoisting the overflowing basket up to your chest. A sweet sigh, then pitter-patter of fleece against parquetry, and the discovery of a sweet, cherry-red ladybug walking along your knuckles, leads to the basket securely placed on a free countertop. There’s a quirk of her brow, something of a gentle question— more of a suggestion— not completely committed to keeping two conversations at once. How’d it go?

“No luck sellin’ today,” your voice buds, small and soft as your eyes trail the curves of a particularly large waste of an apple. An evident pout on your lips, then a quiet huff of air.

Farming has been your whole life, really. It’s what you’re best at, good at. Ever since you were young, barely tall enough to push away tall-grass— barely strong enough to pull out weeds, you knew it was yours. Something special, gravel crumbling and breaking beneath heavy, solid boots and rubber tires. The remnants of small, flying rocks, pelting into each other and leaving behind white, gray smoke as your tractor comes to a slow, gradual halt.

“But I met someone new!” That peaks her attention, nothing short of a gasp coming from a pair of lips—identical to your own— and here come the questions. Was he blond? Oh, I knew it! Did he buy anything? Well, why not? Was he tall? Thought so. . . How about handsome? Come on, now. .

“He was . . hmm, pretty.” Is how you’d like to put it, raising a finger to the air in finality. Truth be told you don’t remember much about his appearance— it was more so his demeanor. He’d bumped into you— you think— and yet, there was something so smooth about him. Not even his slicked hair, wavy at the end and curved just right to frame his face and bleed into the bristles of his blond undercut. He’d carried on like it was nothing, still polite, even admired your handiwork on your stall’s banner. A sweet thing of a stranger.

“You’re so easily impressed,” The smile dusting your lips curls into a wee, nasty little frown. That’s just not true. “A good thing, too, you’ll have to like our new neighbor.”

Her voice melting through one ear and out the other like freshly harvested honey has your throat tied into a thick knot, stuck right at the base of your neck and only growing in size. Hands thrumming against the granite countertop, your body leans inward.

“Neighbor?”

“Mm,” She hums, landline trapped between her ear and sweater-clad shoulder. You’re not entirely sure if it’s toward you or her friend, either way, her conversation stays ambiguous. “I heard he’s some fancy lawyer. You think he’s defendin’ the Hasaba girls from last year?”

That’s something to think about. Two little girls who’d been found locked away by some sort of— police officer, was he? Perhaps something more authoritative, and taken into his personal care. You wouldn’t be surprised if it became legalized— you’d only met that man (Suguru Geto, was it?) in passing, but his stature seemed dead-set on protecting those girls.

There’s a muffled gasp on the other line, crackly with static as a finger twirls around the phone’s coiled, mint wire. The rest of the conversation goes unheard, slippered feet carrying you to the large, alcove window that displays just enough equal farmland and neighborhood housing. And, sure enough, as if on cue, it’s not hard to make out the lines and shadows of the ‘ fancy ’ lawyer, his fluid silhouette effortlessly carrying luggage and— what looks to be— a box of books. Documents, perhaps.

“You didn’t— how come you didn’t say nothin’ ?!” Your excitement has you toppling over, limbs every which way as your face presses into the glass window. When you’re stuck in a place where everyone knows everyone, there’s something exhilarating about having a new neighbor. And he knows nothing.

There’s a quiet mumble that roughly translates to: ‘You didn’t ask.’, but it’s filtered out by the sound of your full-footed stomps. You opt to keep your slippers, racing toward the neglected basket, mind completely set. “I’ll be back, Ma!”

The path along your house isn’t dangerous, but it is harsh on bare feet— inured by heavy boots and pick-up trucks.. Still, it goes completely ignored as you carry the heaviest basket of goods you own, anxiety twisting and turning in your stomach— bunny hops into your chest and stomps and stomps and stomps. You’ve carried yourself past the intersection of the cobblestone path, a lot more smooth the closer it gets to the large, usually untouched, rental home. The lights are off— save for the dim, yellow glow of a small porch lamp resting above an unsullied, sleek and wooden rocking-chair. When there’s no one to inhabit the home, it’s always been comforting to look at— but now? .

Cold would be one way to put it. Your feet are cold, your arms are cold, your hands are cold, and you’re stood at his front door— frozen. Scared is another.

Even so, you’ve always been told you’re the ‘bravest boy’ in your whole district. Cry-baby habits and all.

The door opens before you can knock, and all you can register is brown. Brown wallpaper— the beige type, just barely meeting the requirement. Patterned with old, vintage looking floral prints. Brown, sleek wood of a bannister— steps that lead down into the living room, but are visible from the front door. Brown eyes, such a specific shade. When exposed to the light they almost look gray— green?— but as he stands before you, there’s nothing but molten chocolate and burnt honey-candy. A brown leather belt, securing crisp slacks and an equally crisp button up. You expect to see brown loafers, but—

Fuzzy slippers, brown and soft and cute. Little black buttons for eyes, and two floppy, fluffy ears— reminiscent of a bunny.

“Oh. . . Can I help you?” You’ve heard it before, his voice, but it’s even more striking than ever. It’s easy to forget the voice of someone you’d just met, but there’s something so. . distinct about it. He’s got a slight accent, too, something Tokyo-adjacent— you’ve always wanted to visit for longer than the feeble four hours of a busy work-trip.

“Mhm!” Pretty lips spread to their best grin, pulling at your cheeks until the babyfat wells up. “Well, no— um, actually. .” Brown eyes are expectant, but calm and patient as they watch you fumble over your words. Your fingers tremor as the basket is thrusted forward, heat blooming in your cheeks. “These— This is for you!”

“Ah. . .” Pink lips part, cupid’s bow prominent. There’s a beat of silence, then the sound of his front door closing with a slight click— right in your face. For a moment all you can do is stare, eyes boring into the dark, chestnut wood of the rustic front door. Staring until it’s gone blurry, eyes bubbling with fresh, unshed tears. And, nearly spilling over like an overflowing faucet, they gather before you can blink them away— fat and thick and embarrassing.

“Um. . I like your sli—slippers.” Fully aware you’re speaking to an unmoving door, you can’t behind yourself to walk back the moss-decalled path home. It’s not so cold anymore, your bones having rung out in the, metaphorical, hot sun until they’ve dried completely and— now it’s warm. Warmth in your nose, stinging as you sniffle and bite down a hiccup.

“Sorry for the wait,” Mahogany shifts, offset by a deep rumble of a voice, smooth like velvet in comparison to the sharp, slow creak of door hinges, “Here.”

Dam rebuilt almost immediately, your body straightens. Him again, this time his eyes trained on what he holds in his hand. Brown and gold like sweet honey and, by God, it’s the most crisp set of yen you’ve ever held in your life. His fingers dance with fluidity you’ve never seen before, counting through each slip until he’s deemed an amount satisfactory— there’s a slight patch of hair on each of his knuckles, an array of veins that cascade into his forearm. His fingertips look a bit rough, but his nails are glossy and clipped. Even his cuticles are pushed back, just enough to look healthy and natural.

“Oh! I wasn’t trying to—”

“I know it’s rude to tip, so I left the exact change,” You blink. Once, twice— again, lips parted like a fish, fresh out of water. Then he’s hoisting the basket from your trembling hands, eyes downcast. “Next time, don’t give out things you worked for, for free,” Right where his eyes dip, his monolid, there’s a small mole— cute and circular, and had you not been studying the curves of his face you wouldn’t have noticed it. “You should wear a coat, too.” And, like a schoolboy, you can’t help the flurry of butterflies catching flight in your stomach.

“Yes, Sir,” Pearly whites biting at the fleshy, pink insides of your cheek have your lips puckered, pensive and sweet as you clutch the money to your chest. “Sorry about earlier— um, if it’s okay, I could help with your boxes?”

He leans forward, careful enough to keep the respective bubble of space between the two of your bodies, glancing at heavy, book-piled boxes labeled ‘N.K.’ The woven basket creaks under the weight of his chest, but it stays in one place nonetheless. “That?” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s fine, just mail. Must’ve arrived before I did.”

It’s a bit awkward, really. Anticipation nips at your fingertips— you’ve never really had to work so hard to continue a conversation. You’ve never had to think about it either, if the words were coming out correct, if anyone was comfortable with your presence.

“Oh,” You breathe, subconsciously leaning closer. Perhaps it’s a miracle he hasn’t actually shut the door in your face, and— right. Your hands move to wipe away any streaks from your cheeks, a small sniffle ringing in the air. “Sorry f’I bothered you. I live, um, closest to the windmill. Yknow, just up the path from here. . . ?”

You haven’t known him for long, but you just can’t consider him comparable. Maybe it’s your heart speed-running past any other rational thought, maybe it’s the blooming heat in your chest, maybe it’s the shiver of winter trailing down your spine. You find yourself desperately hanging onto his every breath, only ever beaming when he shakes his head.

“Kento Nanami,” Tense shoulders relax with a deep inhale, the sweet smell of chocolate stuffed bread filling his nostrils. All that trepidation washes away, hushed under the breeze of Kento’s slow breaths. “Did you make these yourself?”

The door creaks, quiet and welcoming as Nanami extends an arm, stepping aside. Once his eyes finally settle on you they harden, just for a moment, as if he’s finally noticed the pull of your eyes— the crystalline seam tightlined around your waterline, the bright red strain of veins peeking behind your lids. Still, he says nothing, until you’ve introduce yourself with watery tremors.

“It’s cold, and you came all this way without a jacket?” Your eyes trace the vapor floating into the air as he sighs, irises dancing along the edge of your bare forearms. “Come in.”

Your muscles straighten up under his gaze, rippling until rigid as you eagerly nod, “Y’don’t think we could share some of that bread, d’you?”

The best time to farm, you’ve learned, is just after sunrise. The sun rests her head on grassy hills, still groggy and not quite awake yet, herself. But you are, suited up in your boots and overalls, not a single lantern in hand. That’s the first plus, natural lighting of the rising sun. The sweet, dim bath of light that paints the path from your home to your plantation in molten gold.

Then there’s Kento. You’d think he never sleeps, but you’ve seen it. Ritualistic, in a way. For the last two weeks, you’ve watched him go about his day. See, the window of your bedroom leads straight into his study, where he prefers a dimly lit lamp over the bright fluorescents. It’s almost hard to tell when he comes and goes, seeing as whenever you look, there he is. Sat in a swiveling chair and hunched over his desk, writing something in a notepad and skimming through— what looks to be— more documents on his computer.

You can only tell he’s going to bed once there’s a sigh, a pinch to the bridge of his nose before smoothing out his eyebrows, then the discarding of silver-frame, rectangular reading glasses. The lamp stays on, as if he knows he’ll be back in less than seven sleeping hours— which you think, for him, translates to roughly thirty minutes.

And, though he can’t see you, you always make an extra effort to wave up at his study, just before starting up your tractor.

You never expected him to wave back. You never expect his eyes to trail from your face to your supplies. And you, most certainly, never expect him to join you. Two thermal mugs in hand as he makes it over the small hill from his home to your own, past the thorn bushes and vacant tangerine trees. Hot chocolate— piping and rich, it coats your tongue in its sweetness and splashes against your lips with comforting warmth.

“Mm!” You hum, blowing through the small gap between the thermos and its sealed lid. You’d assumed your scarf, wrapped snug around your neck, would do the trick— keep you warm enough — but this seems to actually hit the spot. Sticky accents from remnants of unmelted marshmallows, its fluff clings to the corner of your lips. And Kento, nursing his own mug— though it contains tea— looks up to watch you grin, shards of tiny sugar crystals clinging to your pouty bottom lip.

“Hold still,” all but purring, his thumb swipes at your lip, wipes away the stickiness until they’ve parted— breathless. His eyebrows furrow with concentration, as if it’s a practiced habit, absentmindedly licking his thumb clean with one smooth, quick dart of his tongue.

“Sweet.”

Your breath circulates into the air, a swirl of white that dispels almost immediately. Your thoughts are cut short, breath stuck in your throat, eyes wide and glazed over with astonishment. “It’s— huh?”

“Sweet,” he chimes, lips curling around each letter. He’s beside himself, nearly forgetting who he is until the clear of his throat and a resigned grumble. “I can’t fathom how you manage to drink. . . radioactive waste from a cup.”

His humor is dry— something you have to think over for a moment before smiling against the lid of your cup. Kento notes how you smile— with your whole body— eyes closed tight and teeth on display, shoulders bunched and your stride much more bouncy. He tries not to smile when you giggle, hiding the lower half of your face behind the piping mug as your shoulders brush against his own. With each step the closer you get— to both the blond and your truck.

“It’s good,” Your voice lifts at the end of the statement, feigning offense as you lick your lips. Soft tongue against soft lips, Nanami partly wonders if you naturally taste as sweet as your preference for drinks. “M’not bein’ mean about yours!”

“I'm not being mean,” He corrects, a silent apology laced in his tone— just in case — and your knowing gaze lifts from his cup to his eyes, blazing bright and beautiful. He basks in your attention for a moment, like the gentle rays of a sun-swept island. Had this really been a vacation— no carry-on cases— he would’ve considered booking a flight to Malaysia.

First, he’s buckling you into your seat— it seems you’d forgotten, then he’s reminding you to put on your gloves, despite having bare hands of his own.

“You do this for a living,” is his justification, though you deemed it more a reason for him to wear the protective gear. “You wear them.”

And, now, he’s listening intently as you explain the mild inconvenience that is the technicalities that come with farming. He learns of your affinity to animals. Your slight, biased preference for gardening. The way your nose wrinkles when you think too hard, and the way you often forget what you were saying as you say it.

Though the scenery outside the passenger seat window is beautiful— valleys of faded green and brown, a light fog dusting the air. The symphony of crickets and cicadas, and of course, the sunset making its round up the horizon, teetering along the age of the Earth as it paints each and every blade of grass in its light.

He helps you out of the car as if you haven’t done it yourself a million times, careful not to spill your drink in his other hand. He’s awfully tender, too, his thumb absentmindedly circling the glove-clad skin of your knuckles as your hand squeezes his own. The door slams shut, and he doesn’t miss your expression twist as you whisper a small ‘oops, sorry!’ to your precious truck before unloading supplies.

Kento can’t name a thing— he’s out of his depths, here, but he helps anyway. He carries it down the never-ending row of cabbage and radish, watches his step despite nearly dismantling at least three dozen budding vegetables simultaneously. And you don’t yell at him once, instead offering words of sweet encouragement until you’ve found the place to start, dropping your assortment of tools and buckets.

“M’kay, ‘Nami,” He watches you drop to a crouch, warmth blooming in the apples of his cheeks. It’s not just the suggestive position, nor the way your pretty eyes look up at him from there— but it’s how sweet you say his name. . going as far as to give him a nickname, too.

Still, it manifests through the twitch of his eye, which you don’t catch onto, as he kneels alongside you.

“‘Nami—”

“No. It’s pronounced Nanami.” He interjects, his grip tight along the base of unsavory, frostbitten weeds— at least, that’s what he sees you doing anyway. Almost too tight, heavy and thick hands flexing, you can see the bend of his knuckles as his fingers dig into the roots.

“Na,”And, the smell of dirt, it’s so strong, the earthy undertones invade your nostrils and have no intent on stopping. . . “—na,” Raw, natural. His palms press in at the sides, thumbs stroking at the soil as he feels around for growing stems. For a moment it’s silent, save for the crackling radio beside you. Your pretty lips part, and sweetly, you’ve sounded out his name. “—mi.”

A puff of air leaves his lips, a scoff of a chuckle, and he’s giving a slight nod, quietly whispering the syllables of your name in acknowledgment. “Mhm?”

He doesn’t miss the way your lips split into a wide grin, weeds absentmindedly disregarded for a moment as you giggle, “I already knew that— I just said it!”

“Mm,” He agrees, though he’s not entirely sure you did. Then his heavy fingers tap your wrist— gentle, barely even a tap, but it gets you back on track— picking up the dead weeds. Kento watches, your hands gingerly plucking them free from the root, mastered and effortless.

Your fingertips dig into the soil, palms sticky and damp, littered with defrosting grass along each ridge and defining line. There’s so much care in your fingertips, and with every successful pull your eyes ignite. Like a cute, overgrown puppy. “Good. You’re a smart boy.”

“Y’think m’smart?” And, though your shoulders bunch up— a bit more bashful, you’re shaking your head. “I mean— I knew that already, too,” and it washes away as fast as it arrives, replaced with genuine exuberance. “I tell m’self everyday!”

The blond catches it anyway, gaze unwavering, even as your own struggles to keep contact. Nanami’s eyes are remarkably intimidating despite belonging to someone who’s positioned so utterly relaxed. . Crouching just as you are, but with smooth shoulders and lax biceps. Still, they’re visible through the silk fabric of his button-up, but he seems used to it. Tufts of blonde hair, slightly unruly and disheveled— swept back with gel, yet still set off in a flurry of gold by the back of his head, as if he’d rolled around in bed and decided to lounge about instead of retouching it.

Cozy.

“I do,” The sun dawns down through thick, gray clouds, framing his bronze locks— and with his lips slightly parted and his skin picking up a peachy glow, he looks almost seraphic. “What were you saying?”

“Um,” You pause to rethink through the last hour, warmth blowing past your cheeks as a particularly nippy gust of wind rushes by. “. . We sell ‘em, the weeds! That won’t be for a few days, sometimes we keep ‘em for cookin’, but . . . these aren’t any good.”

“Too many?” He asks, as if it’s the most interesting thing he’s learned in his vacation here, by far, despite having learned that just a few days ago.

“Too many!” Pretty lips part into a wide grin, and perhaps that’s the conclusion to Kento’s sightseeing.

౨ৎ

Kento tries not to lie— not unless he absolutely needs to.

With your black on black attire— a large, knitted sweater, a black bomber atop it, dark jeans to match, a hand-woven gray scarf wrapped around your neck, and white sneakers that carry a cream-colored accent in its threading— it’s hard to keep his mouth shut.

“Where are we going?” Is his first question— but there’s so much more he means to ask. Since when do you dress so nicely? Do your parents know you spent extra farm money on those shoes? Is it bad to feel the urge to hold you closer, just so no one gets any ideas?

Nonetheless, checking the silver-plated Rolex along his wrist with the slight tussle of his lapel-collared trench coat, just before popping open the passenger’s seat of your truck, he ignores the growing thought.

“You’re always locked up in your house,” Twisting your keychain covered keys into the ignition, the truck starts up with a gradual rumble. You’ve figured something was wrong with the oil for quite some time now, but it’s never been enough to start any problems. “Don’t y’wanna have fun?”

That doesn’t entirely answer his question, nor does it ease his mind— a vacation this is, yes. But it’s also paid, and he’s technically on the clock whilst being here. Still, he nods just once, the clench of his jaw apparent in the faint valleys of muscle just below his ear. Though, he supposes he could say the same about you. Every day you wake up, harvest, water crops, feed your animals, clean out troths and shovel up feces. He’s not even entirely sure if that’s your idea of fun— but he hopes not.

Kento doesn’t expect you to be such a great driver. Smooth turns and a gentle ride— even with cobblestone streets and gravel trails. You get carried away when you talk, too, hands moving about and your gaze trailing to his eyes every few seconds. He has to remind you— “Don’t take your hands off the wheel,” “Don’t look at me, look at the road,” — but Kento would be lying if he said it weren’t endearing.

It’s almost like you can barely function without basking in his presence.

“If it were warmer,” You swallow, finally stopping to catch your breath after the last fifteen minutes of rambling. The car slows down to a halt, an overhead traffic-light flashing a bright, crisp shade of red. “We could’ve went apple-pickin’ . . . or even oranges!”

You take the time to fully face him, eyes trailing up his dark trousers and gray turtleneck— it bunches at his chest, and you’re sure without his trench coat it’d be just as strained around his biceps.

“What do you do when it’s cold?” He muses, ducking his head to watch the passing of trees and inner city shops.

“Hm?” You hum, but before he can repeat the question you beat him to it. “Uh, we have this lake— it’s the first to freeze over when it’s cold. . ” So quaint, his eyes gloss over pedestrians as they live amongst themselves. Walking their dogs, sharing a drink at an outdoor bar, couples huddled close together for warmth. The sidewalks are clean and clear, there’s a polite, happy bounce to everyone’s step. Fairy lights blink in every other window, casting a sweet, bright hue along the streets below it. Kento understands it all, despite it being much more. . comfortable. . than Sendai. “And, when it’s completely frozen, we skate on it!”

It feels like home. A gentler, cozier version of it.

“I’m sorry—” The blond clears his throat as he turns to actually look at you, having fully processed your words. “Skating?”

“Are y’scared?” Nanami tries to ignore the burning of his throat when you laugh at his silence— a pretty, featherlight thing of a giggle that only progressively makes it harder for him to catch his breath.

“No,” He grumbles. He’s actually done it before— his younger, studying ‘coworkers’ had a knack for dragging him around outside of work hours— and he wasn’t free from it, even in winter. Yuji, Megumi, and Nobora, perhaps the three only people who could have him willingly risking a fractured disc.

“Don’t be scared, ‘Nami!” The car turns into a short trail, decalled in various signs and brightly colored symbols. “I can help you, m‘kay?”

Four people.

He nods anyway, save you the meltdown, and lets you drag him out the car once you’ve found a good place to park. He’d think it was illegal had there not been a sign for it, let alone communal skates in varying sizes. They’re in good condition, too. A small wooden bench— decorated with moss along its sides, he brushed his fingertips against it by accident— keeps him steady, but when he looks over to you, you’re already walking around with untied skates.

“Come here,” He beckons, voice soft and fond as he quirks a finger in your direction. He watches you fumble, nearly tripping over your own legs as opposed to your laces, but you make it over to him anyway, thigh against thigh. You brace yourself when he pulls your legs over his lap, shifts in his seat and tightens them just enough— “It’s not hurting you, is it?”— to fit comfortably.

“Thank you, ‘Nami,” He can hear the sincerity in your voice— as if he’d saved your life. Your breath pans across his face, warm and minty as you shake your head, “Doesn’t hurt. . .”

He offers a gentle pat to your knees once you’re fully set, softly dropping them back down as he leans to tie his own. It’s a quick process— not as tedious as the knotted up, tattered ones back home— a much more nice change of pace.

The ice, though, is considerably worse. He surmises it’s because it’s relatively untouched— if the whole village of Sekichiku had done two laps over it still wouldn’t have been enough to leave a noticeable dent in the ice— so his skates have nowhere to grip. You, though. . .

You’re much more graceful on ice than on land. A slow turn here, a quick twirl there, you could skate laps around him if you so choose. But you don’t, instead holding onto his wrists as he stiffly skates forward. Kento’s nose is nipped with pink, matching the particular shade of his lips as they part in concentration. The shade dispels down his cheeks, and you’ve never seen his face so. . . soft.

“Say, ‘Nami?” You huff, holding his wrists as you move in a slow, clockwise circle, turning you both. “When’re you leavin’?”

The truth bubbles in his throat, tougher to swallow than he’d originally thought it’d be. He clears his throat, avoids the question, and instead of freeing his wrists altogether, he holds your hand. You’re pouting when you slowly swivel to his side, his heart somersaulting almost painfully at the cute, wee frown to your lips. “Hey,” you whine, caught off guard but still pleasantly surprised, squeezing your palms against his own. “What’re you doin’?”

You’ve always been undeniably sweet. Kento thinks back to your basket of goods. The sweet, savory, aromatic flavors of bread, meats, cheeses, chocolates. How you have it to him so sweetly, no questions asked. There’s no ulterior motive to your demeanor, either. It’s peculiar to have someone so. . dependable. Someone to easily lean on, someone so— hospitable.

You’re perfect.

“I've never—“ He pauses, watching smoke dispel form your lips. An intimate position, he’s in— close enough to hear your breaths, holding on tight enough to feel your pulse through your fingertips. “Noone has ever done this for me. Thank you.”

“What, take you skatin’?”

“Support me unconditionally.” He pulls away before you can say anything in response, relishing in the thought of your pulse speeding against his knuckles as he stiffly skates back toward regular land.

The ride home is smooth, but quiet. And once you get there, hunger overrides your hospitality.

You like Kento’s rental— its kitchen is spacious and just big enough to support the mess of pots and pans that come with baking. It’s warm and inviting, the stove works great and the oven even better. Its heat burns a little brighter, but nothing you can’t handle.

Pain au chocolat — chocolatine — and meringue cookies; they’re a pain in Kento’s ass. Not even something he’d try to attempt without you there— he’s happy to watch you whisk away and laugh at his disgruntled faces. A “taste-tester”, you’d called him, scooping one sugary accessory after another onto the pad of your fingertip and asking him to try.

You weren’t lying. You really do know how to bake— flour dusted skin and all. Twisting raw dough into pretty sculptures of bows and braids, scored surfaces of x’s and o’s, light layers of warm butter that seep into soft, risen dough. And when it bakes, oh, how sweet the smell of aromatic bread is to Nanami’s stomach.

Studying the contours of a pretty face— baby fat rounding your cheeks as they pool into a sweet smile, pearly whites displayed brighter than the moonlight leaking through the floral curtains. Your laughter is wholehearted, hands gripping the hem of Nanami’s fleece shirt, body tipping toward his chest as your giggles dispel into the warm, brown-sugar baked air. For a moment he mentally swoons, something of a comforting coo, eyelids heavy and blanketed with the same baking powder littering your handsome face. He relishes the warmth, which leaves just as fast as it arrives, and suddenly you’re reaching into the oven without your cute, fluffy puppy-patterned mittens protecting your hands.

“Wait,” His tone is harsher than intended, solid and thick, and you— the sweet, softheaded boy that you are, don’t entirely deserve the worried look on your face that melts into sharp, hot pain.

“Ouch!” Your elbow smacks into Nanami’s calf as you flinch, fingertips raw and numb— still pulsing from the fresh burn. The man crouches down, knee to ceramic, palm to your warm shoulder, and suddenly your wide eyes are glittering and gleaming. Had the smile from your face not been growing, he’d have been appalled. “‘Nami, did you see that?!”

“Silly boy,” He sucks his teeth, pulling your clasped hands from your chest. Gingerly, he plucks out each finger one by one, runs the pad of his thumb along the burn sites. “You have to be more gentle with yourself.”

And, as if he’d declared to destroy your favorite equipment, your shoulders deflate. Hazel watches as tears well in your eyes in real time— with award winning speed, really— glassy and wet and oh, you’re so cute. It was just a small reminder, nothing too harsh— it could barely be considered scolding. Yet here you are, sniffling and averting your gaze. Eyes glossed over while your fingers instinctively curl over his own for comfort. Then a small, petulant, “M’sorry, ‘Nami.”

“None of that,” Soothing, it's gentle and soft as his thumb travels along the numb pads of your fingertips. And though it was already a faint sensation, you can tell his touches are deliberately featherlight and calculated, cautious. “Nothing to cry about.”

“I’m not crying,” You grumble, though his ears register the sound as a wet sniffle as you rub at your cheek with the back of your free hand. “I don’t do that.”

“Of course not,” The breathy lilt tongue voice gives it all away, a tiny smile dotting the man’s lips. They’re entirely too enticing, a sweet shade of pink that dispels into the milky tan of his skin. Sheen and glazed with what could be spit, your lips part to mirror the same smile. Though yours is larger, his isn’t any less exuberant— luring you in one centimeter at a time until, inevitably, his breath ghosts along the expanse of your jaw— you can almost taste him.

His voice breaks through the thickened silence, “But it’s okay if you do.”

The next two hours should go by just fine.

౨ৎ

“What does ‘default-judgment’ mean?”

Floorboards creak beneath Kento’s feet, dimly lit ambient lighting placed around the office keeps it lit just enough to see ever so clearly— a small lamp angled above an open file, then the remaining trickle of light cascading over photos. Labeled, dated, clipped, and shipped to his front door just a couple weeks ago. Soon to be released, relinquished, deadlined.

His hair drips with cold water, tiny drops dripping down to the floor while others slither down his neck, and pool where his back dips, just slightly. He doesn’t tense when he sees you— his muscles remain just as relaxed as they were in the shower— and his eyes barely widen past the tired, lidded expression that paints his face every night, before he gets his studying done. But you—

You’re the opposite. Your shoulders raise to your ears, eyes wide and unblinking as they stare at the towel wrapped around his thick, slightly hairy forearm— it’s navy blue, with a brown, horizontal stripe across its fabric, and embroidered letters you can’t quite make out. An intelligible sound, then an unexplainable expression, and— there you are, tripping over your own tongue as your hands shoot to cover your eyes. Only unclothed from the waist up, Kento can’t help the amusement blooming in his chest.

“It’s a deduction based on a defendant’s failure to answer. . or appear, in some cases, to a lawsuit or court.” Nanami’s eyes trace the part of your lips behind your palm as your brain processes (though, he doesn’t think that’d be the correct word for it) his words. They purse, quickly, tight lined, until parting again— once more, with less confidence. With each step he takes (long strides that make him appear as if he’s almost floating) he grows closer, strands of freshly washed angel hair sticking to his forehead.

“. S. . ure!” You smile and nod in faux understanding, fingers curling toward the dip of your hairline, eyes peeking through cracked fingers. From there, beneath your palms, an uncomfortable warmth blossoms from your throat up, settling in your cheeks and sprinkling across your nose— sweltering and tingly.

Kento tuts, a soft noise, and you watch as he inhales a deep breath, pine eyes perusing through the space between your fingers for eye contact. “. . . Don’t worry about all that.” And, as if he can feel the high voltages slamming against your heart, his tongue darts out to moisturize his lips, and his eyes fall to your chest. He sits aslant to you, legs spread wide with the occasional sway of his knee— but nothing too sudden. You’re made all too aware of his half-naked proximity, purportedly close enough to feel the warmth of his body radiating through the room— to smell the sweet undertones of vanilla, musk, and earl gray tea residing in his skin. In a low rumble he speaks, pulling lotion free from the drawer to your left. “Silver lining is: I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

Even as he leans forward, closer and closer, he doesn’t cage you in— even if your chest aches at the loss.

Your heart demands the conversation die after that. Beating so rapidly you assume it’s stopped, silence freezes the air as your hands slowly drop to your lap. Lips pulled with woe, darling eyes low and sodden in an instant. Shoulders dropped just enough to sound a sharp creak in the swiveling chair you’re sat in, your lashes clump with fresh, unshed tears. And, in a lapse moment of murkiness, Kento’s lips twitch into a frown of their own.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, as if afraid your response will confirm it— he’s what’s wrong. His choice of words— wrong. Thin brows furrowed, the dip of his chin has his lips ghosting your cheek.

“. . . Nothin’.” It’s worse. He’d expected tears— maybe even an exchange of fiery words— but instead you’ve shut down, hands balled up in the fabric of your flowy pants, denim bunched up and draped over your thighs. Completely silent, staring at nothing and everything— all in between— all at once.

“Nothing?” He echoes, a silent suggestion for more. The rumble in your ear is almost too much, for a moment you assume you’d conjured it up with your imagination. Too close, too bare, too blunt, too warm— too fleeting.

“Mhm,” When your gaze meets, his heart plummets to his stomach. “Nothin’.” Words rush to his tongue before they can catch up to his brain, and. . you look so . . sad. He’s never seen you so defected— nor had he thought the concept of giving up existed for you. So headstrong, determined to make things work, gears always shifting into overdrive when you can’t make something out. You’ve gone as far as to create your own definition— this isn’t you.

“It’s. . . inevitable,” Kento’s voice softens, dropping to a quiet whisper between just the two of you. “But not for a while,” Then shifts his weight back, pulling away as he speaks in some sick sort of oxymoron, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you will.” Grumbling, you’ve always been an open-book.

“Not forever.”

“. . . Ever,” You grunt, choosing to ignore the stern quirk of his thin brow. You’re a bit of a brat— Kento sees that now— behind the pouty lips and soft eyes, behind the large smiles and intimidating prowess. “When are you goin’?”

Nanami treads carefully, fingers wrapped around the closed bottle of lotion. With a snap it clicks open, and a generous amount is pumped into his palms. The smell is neutral and muted, but clean and fresh.

Kento tries not to lie— not unless he absolutely needs to. An unexplainable feeling, adjacent to panic, rises in his stomach as he lies, “Six weeks, at least.”

“Nami…” Ignoring the deadline he’d just given you, you ask, “D’you like your job?”

You watch his posture relax, as if the previous conversation was just as emotionally taxing as it was for you, for him. He sighs, pauses to think for a mere second, then shrugs. “I like its structure.”

“Oh.”

“I like helping people, too.” He adds, much more sincere. Your eyes trail the lotion as it’s rubbed into his biceps, his shoulders, his forearms. His fingers flex and muscles ripple, skin bouncing beneath his fingertips, and light traces of hair at his knuckles raising.

“Oh.” You breathe, eyes locked on his veiny hands. You suppose, in a way, your jobs are similar. You, too, help people out— you provide fresh food and crops, you herd cattle and brush the hair of healthy horses. A very hands-on job— it’s rewarding. “Me too. I— I like helping too. And. . .”

His fingers twitch, almost as if they can feel your gaze, but Kento makes no effort to move them.

Six weeks. Time is fleeting.

“I—” With trembling hands you lean forward, clasping Kento’s smooth knuckles against your palm. He’s just as warm as he looks, skin soft and sheen. His fingers flicker in your hold, straining as they tense— silently, asking, ‘what?’ as an increasingly overwhelming urge to keep Kento close washes over you.

It’s moments like these you’d wish you were better with words. To weave them together into something pretty, like a basket made for carrying fresh harvest. To pull apart and braid together an amalgamation of just the right phrases— ones that sound pretty and roll off the tongue. Some that sound soulful and genuine, yet effortless and forthwith at the same time.

Moments like these, where your breath is stuck in your throat and with every rise and fall of his chest you think you’ve lost some more— he’s taken it all from you— you wish you knew just what to say, to do, to bring that air back.

To have him melt at your words the way you do at his actions, to have him feel the same exact thing when your heart clenches in your chest like a rag that’s been wrung out to dry. Without trying, without straining. You wish you were smarter— better at this, as you lean so far from the chair it begins to squeak in protest.

You’re sure there’s better people in Tokyo. With better educational backgrounds, with cleaner jobs. People who have it all together, who have different skills and assets— who don’t stick to one thing simply because they have a natural born talent for it. People who are prettier, more handsome— perhaps more his type. People who have aligning career goals and paths— more accomplishments.

Sweeter, kinder. With softer hands and an easier understanding of city life.

People who are better with words. Who can weave them together into something pretty, like a closed case with no loose ends or dead leads. Who can pull apart and braid together an amalgamation of just the right phrases— ones that sound pretty and roll off the tongue. Who can make their confessions sound soulful and genuine, effortless and forthwith at the same time. All within the heart of Tokyo.

People who aren’t you.

Nanami stands, shuffling over to fix the documents you’d ruined— of course you did— but his face hasn’t changed from his usual tight-lipped expression. Sometimes it’s hard to read him, and it’s times like these you really wish you could.

“I like you,‘Nami.” You whisper to yourself, quietly pouring your heart out with each spoken letter.

And, with a snap, your world goes crumbling down. Increasingly silent, the world stops as you hit the floor and Kento’s chest stills— the soft, quiet beat of his breaths gone quiet, as if it were a mere memory to begin with. The backing of his swiveling chair falls with you, right to the floor, clattering much louder than the sound of your tense body, and—

“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I think you have the wrong idea.” His voice is strained. Uncomfortable.

You’ve never felt more humiliated.

౨ৎ

Despite your humiliating attempt to hold onto it, time flies by. Locked away in your room— your only source of comfort being an occasional knock on the door from your mother and the weight of your blanket as it remains overhead. You’ve counted the seconds— tripped over your thoughts after reaching 1,633– started over again. You’ve listened to the pitter-patter of rain against your windowsill, peeked out from your cocoon to bet on a race between the raindrops.

You’ve thought about Kento, of course. So much it plagued you, made your chest uncomfortably tight— until all you could do was let out a humiliated groan all over again. It’s a timeless cycle, and yet, it grows closer to his leaving date.

You haven’t spared a glance toward the actual outside, even when your window overlooks his own study. You’re sure everything’s out of sorts now— weeds overtaking the farm, plants dried out or overwatered, any blooming vegetation snipped at the bud before it could bloom. Tough luck, they’ll get over it.

And, God, has your family tried. Through gentle words and offers of food, through soft praises that fell on deaf ears. Through frustration, too, anger laced in the sweetest yell of ‘where’d my smart boy go?’

Your eyelids feel heavy and thick. No longer swollen with tears or bloodshot with dejection— just heavy, simply tired. Sleep is all you’ve done these days, yet it feels like your body can’t get enough. Fifteen hours a day leave you straining for more, three hours a day leave you exhausted. You can barely remember when you last left your bed— for the bathroom, never for a drink— and even when your frown deepens as you think about it, you can’t bring yourself to fix it.

You can’t bring yourself to fix anything as of late, if it can even be fixed.

You were stupid for thinking he’d feel the same, anyway. A man like ‘Nami— a man like Nanami— so smart and so distinguished. So. . opposite of you, to think you’d fall anywhere near the same line as him. . is laughable, really. Even more so when you consider his upbringing. He doesn’t mention it much, and you try not to pry, but you consider his lifestyle quite traditional and cookie-cutter. You hadn’t even asked if he liked men.

“I think you have the wrong idea.”

His rejection physically pains you, a quiet sniffle and suppressed whine straining your vocal cords. Your nails dig into the fleshy, cushiony part of your palm. You can hear the pitch of his voice — rumbling and deep, you hear the shakiness of his breath—so deeply uncomfortable, cold with disgust. “I think you have the wrong idea.”

A knock to your door startles you awake, eyes wide open as your cocooned body flops around in bed. Still, you barely make an effort to respond, dry lips parting to form a garbled groan.

“Your. . . friend was at the door,” It’s your mother’s voice, but softer and pleading. For a moment your heart twists, eyebrows pinched as you suck in a sharp breath through your teeth— you can’t remember the last time you’d seen her face without slamming a door in it. “Looked tired, so I gave him some coffee. . .”

A bitter, disconcerting ‘so?’ nearly leaves your mouth— something so unlike your usual self, it makes you want to borrow deeper into your sheets and never leave. Shame. She doesn’t expect you to crack the door open. You shake your head, even if she can’t see you, only breaking your stubborn resolve when knocks once more, and slowly, you scuttle around the mess of your bedroom to unlock the door. Your eyes carry dark circles and heavy bags as your gaze pierces straight through her. Then, a shaky breath and barely audible whisper, “. . . S’it Nanami?”

Her aged smile is soft and thoughtful as she leans into the doorframe— something you haven’t seen in a while, and your eyes prickle with warm tears once more. “Between you ‘n me, you’re in much better shape.”

Cracking a smile nearly takes all your energy from you.

You don’t bother changing from your pajamas— they’ve always been so baggy to support the muscle you’ve grown over years of lifting heavy produce and working with truckloads— and now you’re grateful for it. Something to hide behind if you need it, and your fingers subconsciously curl into the fabric of your long sleeves for comfort. Once you get downstairs the two of you depart, and a gentle rub to your shoulder blades is all your mother offers before finding solitude on her own, just a few rooms away if you need her.

And— she was wrong. Of course, he looks tired. You can see it in his shoulders— they’re all wound up and tense, like they’d been when you first met. Sure, his jaw is tightened and you can hear the grind of his teeth against one another despite keeping your distance— but he still seems put together, albeit lacking his usual combover or corporate style of clothing.

It hurts to know he does well without you, as selfish as it may sound.

“Hi,” You mumble, rubbing at your face with the palm of your hand. Your voice crackles with disuse, rumbling and garbled in your throat. “Nanami. .”

“Hi,” He echoes, your name heavy on his tongue as he stands, leveling out the shared eye contact. Just Nanami. For a moment he’s at a loss for words— and it’s odd, typically he has an answer for everything. You remember asking why he’d buckle your seatbelt before his own, and his answer was always the same. You remember asking why he likes what he does— and they’d all circle back to enjoying the small things in life. His Kento’s lips part, taken aback by the loss of his nickname, but they close into a tight line with registration. Perhaps you’re just. . too much.

“I lied to you,” He begins, and your heart leaps to your throat. He clasps his hands together, resting soundly by his thighs as his head tilts downward, a silent plea. “And, for that . . . I’m sorry,” Kento releases a breath, hands coming undone to swipe away stray, gold strands of hair. “Don’t feel obliged to accept, I just— I like y— I want to show you something.”

It’s odd. The look on your face makes him want to scoop you up, to cradle you in his arms and hold you tight. And yet, he can see the cogs turning in your brain, the gradual loss of your frown and faux steel in your eyes as you shrug— he can’t even distinguish if you’re being reluctant or stubborn. Nonetheless, Kento smoothens the fabric of his coat, and makes a small, polite gesture to the door.

“Okay.” Your fist rubs sleep from your eyes, steps heavy and dragging along the floor as you slide your feet into brown bunny slippers— the same ones he’d worn when you officially met.

Stepping into the cold, crisp winter air, you both ignore the tremor to your bottom lip, “What were you gonna. . ?”

Not at all hard to spot, set alight by the glow or orange lanterns, it’s your farm. Oh, it’s much prettier than you could’ve ever imagined it. So clean, with pristine rows and neat placements of fresh soils. You can actually walk through it, as opposed to tip-toeing around like you used to. The air is crisp and fresh, just like you’d remembered it— but it feels better than before. And, dotting the horizon, fireflies dance into the night sky and blend into the twinkling stars. You don’t remember the last time you’d seen them— vision occupied by tall grass or obstructed by rusty tools. You could almost cry. Your breath catches in your throat, a gentle breeze brushing along your forehead and digging into the fabric of your clothes— yet you feel light and warm.

He did all this for you?

“Are you cold?” You blink hard, vision blurred with tears as Kento’s hand grasps your shoulder. “You’re shivering.” He’s quick to shrug off his coat, barely even flinching when the fabric dips into fresh mud, and loops it around your form with steady hands.

“M’okay. .” He frowns, barely visible, and the slight protests of being strong enough to tough it out die on your tongue. But it’s true, you don’t feel cold— not internally, at least. You feel light yet heavy, warm and airy. Heat pokes at your skin, ignites in the apples of your cheeks and trails down your throat. “. . . Thank you, ‘Nami. . . For everythin’.”

‘Why're you saying it like that?’ He wants to ask. As if it’s some sort of sick, roundabout way of saying goodbye. His movement stutters, lips curled into a small ‘o’ before reverting back to its usual, thin line; and he speaks, “I don’t just like you.”

Your fist tightens in his coat, fabric twisting to accommodate your grip.

“I. . admire you. Your strength, your weakness. Your baking. . Your smile, too,” He sighs, quiet and cautious. “Your laugh. I regret not telling you before. At first, I thought you were impulsive, and somehow abrasive, bu—”

You’ve never been one to hide from your feelings— you laugh when you’re happy, scowl when you’re angry, mope when you’re sad. So it’s no surprise to feel you smile; wide and unapologetic. It’s no surprise to feel the tremble of your fingers as they release his coat and land on his biceps. To feel the slow, shaking breath of air he releases at your silence— hearing his own slight sniffle at the nippy, cold breeze. You’re nervous, lips twitching as his chin dips, bashful as his lips intertwine with your own.

A kiss.

"’Nami," Laughing into his mouth, it meets the sound of your lips continuously meeting in breathless, heavy harmony. His lips are plush, soft and sweet, hungry and hasty, everything and nothing and all things in between. “I like you. I like you, I like you, I like you.”

You feel it now— the warmth enveloping his chest, the hard hammering of his heart against his ribcage. "Shit," He whispers, incredulous, and before slowly pulling away, cradles your handsome face between his calloused “I like you too.”

౨ৎ

Kento owns silk pillows. You can tell they’re imported from home— as they disturb the uniform colors of the crisp, cream comforter set blanketing his bed. It’s the first thing you notice, head sinking into the fabric as your eyes flutter closed, thoughts and breaths stolen with each wet, heavy kiss being pressed against your lips. His breath is hot and heavy, small groans and grunts leaving his parted lips, and— he tastes of chocolate.

“Kenny—” You gasp, but the sound of his name on your lips only eggs him on. Hot heat blooms in your stomach, tingling down to your tummy, so deep, something you’ve never really felt before. It tingles, almost, right through your thighs and straight to your cock, plumping up with each passing second. And his hands, god, are so quick and skilled— shedding you of your clothing as if he’s done it a million times before.

“Kenny,” You repeat, much whinier than before, tiny sounds leaving your lips as you squirm in his hold. “Mm, wait,” and his response is barely committal, a low hum that melts into a breathy sigh as your bare skin is exposed and your leaking cock springs free against your tummy. He coos, peeling the sticky fabric of your underwear free. Cute.

“Use your words,” Kento mumbles against your skin, running his hands along the silky smooth skin of the back of your thighs. “I know you can, you’re a smart boy.” You squirm with every touch, plush skin bouncy as you press your thighs together, cock sliding by your navel. And, even when you hide, he can see the precum smearing against your stomach, the tightening of your balls, and, now, your exposed hole winking back at him.

Fuck.

“Mm, don’t look,” You’ve barely convinced yourself, a choked out moan leaving your lips as his big, warm hand wraps around your cock and pumps. “That’s— oh, embarrassin’!” Slow, at first, trailing up the sensitive shaft and rubbing circles into the overly-sensitive head. Until his hand is slick with precum and his own spit, until your thighs are convulsing and you’re close to covering yourself in your own cum. Until you’re sobbing, pulling at his wrist with weak, clammy hands.

“I know, sugar. I know,” And the stifled cry you've been hearing belongs to you. “Feels good, hm?” His free hand grazes down your waist, thumbing at the dip between your hip and your thigh, then cupping the soft, plush skin of your pecs. “Feels better than your own hand, doesn’t it?” Kneading until your nipples harden against his palm, soft skin swelling around his fingers. And, oh, how pretty you are when you cry, overstimulated tears rolling down your cheeks and incoherent babbles leaving your swollen lips.

“Uh— huh, yeah,” Is barely breathed out, and Kento watches pre leak over his knuckles. Creamy and thick, sticky and sweet as your hips rock back and forth, to and fro. You just can’t help yourself, greedy boy, fucking into his fist like it’s the best thing you’ve ever felt and— oh.

It is.

“Messy boy,” He huffs, pressing his forehead against your own— damp and sticky. Your hand, preoccupied with fisting his sheets, is grabbed, and all you can feel is slick, hot heat. “Fuck your fist for me.”

“Wh- Huh?” It takes a moment for your brain to catch up to your hands, wrapped tightly around your cock as your hips buck— whines high and loud in your throat, keening like a puppy. It’s not at all paced, not like Kento, just pure desperation and need as your toes curl and your eyes roll back into your skull. Warmth rises in your face as your legs instinctively part, tingles spreading through your body and needy moans filling the air. Wet and sloppy, your hand is slick and soaked.

He travels lower, lips trailing down your throat, your collarbones— pausing at your chest. He watches the rise and fall, the slight bounce of your pecs as you pant like a dog. Pretty buds hard and sensitive, a gentle suckle is enough to make you arch from the sheets and keen.

“Good boy, that’s it,” You have the urge to get on your knees, to present all your holes to him, to spread yourself open with your fingers- fucking them in and out, in and out, just for Kento. It’s all too much, thinking of what’s next, what’s happening now, what’ll happen later.

Nanami lifts his shirt over his chest, the fabric bunching under your armpits as he keeps it pinned between his teeth, and you have no other choice but to flutter your lashes, watching as his pants are loosened and his cock springs free. Big. Thick and long— and, it seems his tan has traveled to his cock, too. Blushing at the tip, the sweet color of mocha, it disappears the further you look down. Curved, too, slightly past his belly-button and heavy against his navel. It's humiliating, the way your mouth waters almost immediately.

It’d feel so good weighing down on your tongue, fucking your throat fast and rough, making you gag and sputter— choking on your own tears and groans.

“Wanna. . I want. . .” You squirm where you lay, whining high in your throat as you find nowhere to hide— nothing to put your face against, nowhere to bury the drunk, hazy expression on your face.

“Want what?” He murmurs, pretty eyes trailing along the curves of your face before he places a sweet, soft kiss along the edge of your jaw. You take the grip on your waist as a slight indication— Kento’s patience is slowly waning.

“V’never. .” Your lips part into a gasp, eyes fluttering closed as his large hands travel along the expanse of your chest. “I wanna. . . feel you in my throat.”

The smart man he is, Nanami, never misses a beat. Pink lips splitting into a small smile, his thumb rubs circles against your skin. Still, you can feel the throb and twitch of his cock against your thigh, hard and almost leaking. “That’s ambitious, sugar.”

You don’t register scrambling up by your elbows, nor the amount of time it takes for your fingers to fail at wrapping around his cock. Your thoughts are muffled and hazy until a quiet chuckle sounds above you— rumbly and deep, and— ah, Kento’s hand is guiding your head back as he pulls your hands free. You’re panting for it now, mouth dropped open as the slurp and slick noise of his cock tapping against your tongue drops straight to your stomach. You could cum from this alone, without even a single glance toward the ache between your thighs.

"M'gonna be so good, promise, know I can do it! Want it, Sir," A clear habit of rambling when you’re nervous, a soothing coo leaves Kento’s throat. His tip smears along your pillowy lips, sticky and salty as pre paints your chin.

“Shit,” He groans under his breath, fisting his cock to ease the ache in his balls. “Slow. I don’t want to hurt you. Gentle, remember?”

You don’t. You can barely think, let alone recall something from another day. But you nod anyway, eyes glued to his cock as it bobs to and fro— pretty and weeping. You bet it’ll feel so heavy, weighing down on your tongue and nearly crushing your throat as you gag around it. He’ll taste good, too, salty and sweet as he buries his cock down your throat. With your nose pressed into the blond of his pubes, and his balls slick against your chin as they tighten and clench.

Yeah, you want him to cum on your face.

With a whiny nod you take his tip into your mouth, pink tongue over your teeth. In your head, it’s much easier— you can sink down to the base no problem— but in practice. . . You sputter and gurgle, leaning into the gentle touch caressing your cheek as your tongue traces the pulsing, thick vein cascading down his shaft. Through your pathetic whimpers and whines he mumbles— but it falls on deaf ears.

You stick out your tongue, cute and pink, latches onto your bottom lip, slicking his slit as he blinks down at you, pupils blown and wide as he praises you, voice smooth and buttery.

Through your own jittery, inexperienced suckling, his tip is smeared along your lips, slowly tracing your cupid's bow and bottom lip until a thin layer of pre has them glazed over and sticky. Your lips part, carrying a thin trail of creamy pre between them, as his dick slides in and out your hot, wet mouth. Spreading heavy along your tongue, swallowing around the head as his thighs tense, muscles flexing and rippling as they strain to keep still.

“‘Nami’s dick is heavy, sweetheart,” He’s gasping before you can fully take in the stretch of his cock, hips twisting as his eyes flutter closed. It’s been a while, you can tell, with the way his balls are clenched tight, his hand morphed into a fist— careful not to grip your hair. Your spit bubbles and pools around his cock, slick and wet, sliding between the seams of your lips and dripping down your throat, down your sternum, down his thighs. “And you’re taking it so well.”

Running your tongue along his big, veiny cock, his head falls forward— adam’s apple bobbing as he lets out a pleased moan. His cock fills your empty mouth, stuffing it full like a pre-lubed fleshlight, his balls slapping against your chin in sticky, wet plaps. Collecting drool, it froths between your lips and his cock, bubbly and white until your noises are sloppy and loud. “That’s it, good boy, take this load down your pretty little throat. . .”

Gasping on his cock, Kento’s hand holds you close, until you’re buried against his pubes, until your throat is squeezing and contracting and wrapped plush around the thick shaft of his dick. You can feel it, each and every twitch and throb, each hit, sticky rope that paints your mouth as he cums down your throat, ropes shooting down your tongue and sticking to the roof of your mouth. You’ve done so good, such a good boy, marked for Sir, offering a few hollow sucks to his spasming cock before he pulls you off.

You’d rather he paint your face, but you trust him, swallowing the bitter, salty cream as he whispers gentle praises.

“You’re perfect,” Kento mumbles through heavy gasps, rubbing away the fat tears that roll down your cheeks. Such a sweet, pliant boy, leaning into his touch as he gently pushes you back down, off your knees.

Now he’s got you folded, knees bent back in such a slutty, shameless display. The blond squeezes at his cock, his large hand sliding into a fist that clamps down around his beading, shiny slit, then slowly back down to the thick, veiny shaft. Yeah, that’s good, how it slips and slides with rhythmatic pumps. You’d like to imagine that’s how it’ll be when his cock is inside, stretching past your rim and splitting you open, sliding against your velvety walls until he fills you up with his hot, sticky cum.

“Spit,” he says, gentle at first, but hardening as your poor, pitiful attempt at spitting down your own cock turns into gurgles of drool and incoherent moans. He grips your jaw, angling it just right— till you’re resting back on your elbows and have enough space to land a warm, wet glob right down the slit. “Good boy. Look at me, pretty. Like this.”

You watch as he spits down onto his own cock, runny and wet, which stands as a reminder of its own. His fist is so big, but it’s not nearly enough to swallow his cock down. You watch it pop free from his tight grip, loud squelches with each and every movement. Every time he throbs, pulses, shifts— you hear it all.

“That’s it, atta boy, my good little cocksleeve,” You— it must be you, there’s no one else he’s speaking to. Still, with your hand squeezing your throbbing shaft there’s not much you can say, airy little moans and sweet, high gasps leaving your pouty lips as you buck— up, up, up. A thin trail of drool slips down your chin, warm and wet and— oh, that’s nice— trailing down your cock. “That’s it, stick your tongue out.”

You really do play the part, tongue on display as you fuck your fist silly, bumping slits with the blond. Soft and sticky, loud and wet squelching until his own large, warm palm envelops both your cocks, bumping and grinding and sliding so messy. You nearly burst into hysterics when the warmth is gone, and Nanami’s gaze tears away from the pre oozing between your shafts. “Ask Sir for more, angel.”

“Mm, waitwaitwait, don’t— don’t stop,” You keen, stumbling over your tongue. Your brows pinch, eyes glazed over with unshed tears. “Kenny— Sir, please.”

“Good boy,” All but purring, his hands roam along the plush, round mounds of your ass. “Yeah,” His dick slips between the slick skin of your perineum, dragging along the sensitive skin— the head of his cock catching on your rim when his thrusts turn too eager. “You’re a good boy, asking like that.”

“You like grinding on Sir's cock don’t you? Getting me all wet. . .” Just as warm and wet as he’d thought, cooped up in his office and fucking into his fist, lube gushes and trickles out with every deliberate, shallow rut forward. Your balls bounce and twitch, slick and shiny with a mixture of pre. Your moans, so pretty, high and nasally— incoherent and blabbering. The slurp of his cock goes straight to your balls, tightening as you whine like a bitch for it. And his grip, once gentle and steady, leads down to your ass, keeping it spread as he slides the big head of his cock along your pretty little rim, again, and again, and again. It’s more menuevering than bouncing, through your fucked out haze you try to think; you want him to ruin you.

A knot tightens in your tummy, tingling in your balls as your thighs tighten and your legs tremble— fuck, you’re cumming, hard and all at once, it catches you off guard and a choked squeal is knocked from your throat, rope after rope spraying along your own chest.

“I—” You sob, cock convulsing against your tummy as Kento groans. “I didn’t mean to— didn’t know, m’sor—”

He hushes you, a low growl in his throat as his eyes roam up your tummy, past your hard nipples and land on the splatter of cum collecting between the plush hills of your pecs. “S’okay, it just felt too good, mhm? I bet your pussy feels so good, baby— perfect, pretty little pussy swallowing up my cock.”

You don’t expect him to say that— that’s the last thing you expect, eyes rolling back in your skull as you moan, wholehearted and slutty. With the wet squeeze of lube along your bottom half, slicker and sloppier than ever before, your hole winks back at him. Your perfect, pretty little pussy. “That okay, sweetheart? Can Sir pound this hole till it aches for him?”

Your response is barely coherent, garbled sounds and babbling that roughly translates to ‘please’ as thick fingers prod at your tight, puckered hole. Your loud moans are hushed as Kento leans down, close to your ear. His fingers slide against your entrance, sticky lube sliding along with them and connecting to your puffy rim. They feel so big, so long and thick when he taps them against your hole, barely breaching the tiny gape of your rim. “Gonna get you ready for Sir’s dick, gonna finger that cunt nice and slow, get that sweet boy-hole stretched out.”

“Kenny,” You hiccup, uncontrollable tears streaming down your face as you reach forward to press his fingers closer, a tiny gasp leaving your lips as your entrance is breached. You don’t miss the groan you earn in return, deep and shaky as the man takes the opportunity to slip his fingers right in, past the burning stretch of your fluttering ‘cunt’ that sucks the digits deeper and deeper into your gummy walls. “Can take it, pound it, Sir.”

“Look at me, watch me, sugar. Watch Sir fuck this little hole full.” You squeeze your eyes shut for as long as the reluctant, bratty little part of your brain lets you before staring down into hazel. Until his fingers have you seeing stars and rocking back into them like a cock hungry slut, you’ve never felt more full until his cock kisses your insides, leaving you sloppy and open and full.

Your voice isn’t nearly as loud as the wet squelch and slap of skin against skin, his cock sliding in and out your puffy hole as lube gushes out around his dick in white ringlets. Like you’ve creamed on his cock, he can see it slip back inside with each thrust. Your knees over his shoulders, Kento hauls your body up, and with a tiny, wee and pathetic ‘ah!’ you follow suit, your cute little hole clenching and fluttering around his thick, leaking cock.

“Give me a little more, just a little more of this pussy,” You can’t contain the squeals and squeaks that leave your mouth when the blond pistons his hips, a bruising grip on your waist that only gets harder as he grinds his cock down into you. He’s filling you up so good, his balls slapping against your ass with each rushed, rough thrust that has your mind scrambled just as much as your guts. You can’t take it, hands scrambling to grab at something, anything that’ll keep you from screaming.

Pounding into you, your head falls back as you take it, nice and slow, stretching you out— fast and rough, steady and patient— Kento groans above you, bullying his cock inside, grinding while your hips squirm. Mouth open with an unending stream of moans, he breaks you in, turns you into his good boy— his perfect fleshlight. Wet little hole clenching and spasming, his weight pins you down as your greedy hole milks him for all he’s worth.

“Cummin’, Nami, s’too much— M’can’t—” Whining and crying, his touches go right to your head as much as they do your puffy hole."Kenny," you whine, long and pitiful, a pout of a noise that hits him right where you want it to, just as his cock does inside of you. You whine again when your rocking turns into frantic overstimulated grinding, reveling in the stretch of his cock and the rub of your prostate. He groans, thick and gravelly, hands coming up to squeeze at your chest.

“I’ve got you, c’mere, hold Sir’s hand,” He chokes out, feeling it too. The tightening of his balls, the way his dick aches and pulses inside you, the way his cum is starting to kiss your insides and spurt straight onto that small bundle of nerves— fuck, it’s so deep. His thrusts are hard and deep, thick rope after thick rope frothing around his shaft as he fucks it deeper inside. “So good for me,” You never want it to stop, not the pump of his cock, not the drag of his tip against your entrance, not the filthy sounds, not the cum filling up your hole till you can’t move. Your grip on his knuckles is tight, nails digging into the skin of his hands. “That’s it, such a pretty boy, cumming on my cock.”

A searing knot of pressure grows in your stomach, filling as you bear down on his cock and sob on your whimpers. For a minute you think you’re going to pass out, everything going dark as you spurt all over yourself, globs of cum spraying hard onto your chin and splashing back on the blond. He makes you ride it out, offering hard, shallow thrusts to satiate the erratic spasming of your hole, and places a few sweet, tender kisses to your sweaty jaw.

౨ৎ

You wake with a small moan, limbs racked in small aches as your body melts into silk sheets. It smells like him: warm, cozy, and comforting, like a hug. Grateful for the dim, ambient lighting of his bedroom, your eyelids flutter open slowly, and there’s not much to adjust to. You’re clean— its the first thing you notice, a faint scent of soap lingering on your skin as your aching body scrambles for Kento’s warmth.

“I’m here,” He says behind you, hairs on your neck standing straight as you blink at him. Carrying a glass of ice water and a plate of meringue cookies— whisked perfectly. Cute, cloud-like spirals that sit on a porcelain plate— the same ones he watched you make, a smile pulls at your cheeks. “Hungry?” The muscles of your biceps flex as you push yourself up, body subconsciously leaning toward the blond until he’s sat next to you, his touches gentle and fleeting.

He feeds you a cookie, watches your teeth sink into the sweet, then wipes away the remnants of sugar from your lips. So tender, your heart flutters when he takes a bite after you— an indirect kiss.

He swallows, throat bobbing, lashes batting against his high cheekbones, before parting his lips, “I was thinking of extending my stay.”

The room feels ten times brighter, ten times louder, and yet, your heartbeat overpowers it all.

“I like you,” The words tumble from your mouth, almost as if he hadn’t just spent the last hour taking you apart and building you back up. You have nothing to lose, and everything to gain. “I more-than-like you, Kenny.”

And, without missing a beat, Kento answers truthfully this time.

“I love you too.”

[boykisser4]

Dom Top Toji x Male Reader who's acts as a Sugar daddy to Toji! But compared to most sugar daddies, male reader is younger than Toji. Male reader often taking him out to get expensive food, even makes sure he can afford to care for Megumi and such! But behind closed doors, to thank Male reader for all his kind doings for him, Toji fucks him into another universe whenever they're spending the night together 🥴

Sugar daddy

pairing: toji fushiguro x Sugar daddy male reader, nsfw so minors begone

warnings: AGE GAP (tojis in he's mid 30s & m/n in he's early 20s) male reader, smut, Bondage, Blindfold Sex, Anal sex, Barebacking, Rough sex

"You're too good to me," Toji murmured, his eyes twinkling with a mix of gratitude and mischief as he took a sip of the exquisite whiskey. The low light of the luxurious lounge danced across the amber liquid in his glass, casting a warm glow on the lines of his handsome face.

M/n chuckled, his own gaze filled with a hint of something more than just friendship. "It's nothing, really," he said casually, running a finger along the rim of his own drink. "I just enjoy seeing you happy."

The air between them was charged with an undeniable tension, one that neither of them talked about, but both felt acutely. It had been building for weeks, ever since their chance encounter at the university's alumni gala. M/n, a young and successful entrepreneur, had taken Toji, a slightly older but no less ambitious professor, under his wing. Toji, who was usually stoic and in control, found himself drawn to the youthful charm and surprising generosity of his newfound benefactor.

As the evening grew later, the conversation turned to more personal matters. Toji spoke of Megumi, his son who he had been taking care of alone since he's wives.' untimely passing. M/n listened intently, his heart swelling with compassion for the burden Toji carried. He knew all too well the challenges of single parenthood, having raised his own daughter after his ex-wife's desertion.

"You know, I can help with Megumi too," the male offered, his voice a gentle caress in the quiet of the night. "Whatever you need, I'm here for you."

Toji's eyes searched his, looking for a hint of what lay beneath the surface of his words. "Why are you so kind to me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

M/n leaned in closer, his breath warm against Toji's ear. "Because I want you to know how much I appreciate you, in every way," he murmured, his meaning clear. Toji's pulse quickened at the implication, and he felt a sudden rush of arousal pool in his stomach.

The tension grew palpable as M/n stood, offering his hand to help Toji to his feet. "Let's go back to your place," Toji suggested, his eyes dark with desire. "I have something special planned for you tonight."

M/ns heart raced as they stepped into the cool night air, the anticipation of what was to come making him lightheaded. He knew what the Toji had in mind, and he couldn't help but crave the feeling of being dominated by him, used for his pleasure. It was a thrill that went beyond their unconventional arrangement, a secret bond that only strengthened their connection.

Once they were in the private elevator of the m/n's penthouse, the air grew thick with desire. Toji pinned m/n against the wall, his hands roaming over the soft fabric of m/n's shirt, feeling the taut muscles beneath. M/n's eyes were wide with excitement, his pupils dilated with lust as he looked up at Toji, a silent plea for more. Toji smirked, his grip tightening as he leaned in to claim m/n's lips in a fiery kiss. Their tongues danced together, tasting whiskey and the promise of what was to come.

The elevator chimed softly as it reached the top floor, and Toji broke the kiss, his gaze never leaving m/n's. He led the way into the penthouse, the sound of their footsteps echoing through the empty hallway. As they entered the master bedroom, Toji turned to m/n and whispered, "Tonight, you're all mine."

M/n nodded eagerly, his knees trembling slightly as Toji approached the closet and pulled out a set of black silk ropes. The sight sent a thrill through him, his mind racing with the possibilities of what lay ahead. Toji was a master at this game, and m/n knew he was in for a night of unbridled passion and submission.

With practiced ease, Toji bound m/n's wrists and ankles to the four poster bed, spreading him out like an offering to the gods of lust. He took his time, savoring every moment, making sure each knot was tight but not painful. The feeling of being at Toji's mercy was intoxicating, and m/n's cock grew hard as he watched the other man's strong hands work.

Once m/n was secured, Toji stepped back to admire his handiwork. He grabbed a blindfold from the bedside drawer and gently placed it over m/n's eyes, plunging him into darkness. The sudden loss of sight heightened m/n's other senses, making his skin feel more sensitive, his heart beat louder in his chest.

"Remember," Toji whispered, his voice a low growl, "you can say 'red' if it's too much."

M/n nodded, his breath hitching in anticipation. Toji chuckled, the sound sending shivers down m/n's spine. He felt a gentle kiss on his forehead, and then Toji's strong hands began to explore his body, setting his nerve endings alight with pleasure.

The touch grew firmer, more insistent, as Toji's hands roamed over m/n's chest, down his stomach, and finally cupped his swollen cock. He began to stroke it with a slow, deliberate rhythm that had m/n moaning into the darkness. The anticipation was unbearable, his body begging for more, for release.

But Toji was in no hurry. He enjoyed the sound of m/n's breathless whimpers, the way his body arched into the touch. He moved his hand away, leaving m/n trembling and needy. Instead, he kissed along m/n's neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin, making m/n's toes curl.

M/n's body was a symphony of sensation, and Toji was the maestro. He knew exactly which strings to pull to elicit the most exquisite responses. He kissed his way down m/n's chest, pausing to bite at his nipples, making m/n gasp and squirm. The sound was music to his ears, and he felt his own arousal growing with every passing moment.

Finally, Toji reached the juncture of m/n's thighs, his breath hot against the sensitive skin. He could feel m/n's anticipation, the tremors of need that rocked his body. With a wicked smile, he parted m/n's legs and began to kiss along the inside of his thigh, his tongue teasing the sensitive skin.

M/n's hips bucked involuntarily, desperate for the touch he knew was coming. But Toji was a master of delay, of building the tension until it was almost unbearable. He kissed and nibbled, moving closer and closer to m/n's aching cock, but never quite touching it.

The sound of fabric rustling filled the room, and m/n knew Toji was undressing. The anticipation was killing him, his body tight as a bowstring.

"Ready for me?" Toji's voice was thick with desire, and m/n could hear the smugness in his tone. He nodded, unable to form coherent words.

Toji's warm hand wrapped around m/n's cock again, stroking it gently before moving away. He felt the bed dip as Toji positioned himself between his legs, the mattress shifting with the weight of the older man's body. The anticipation was unbearable, his entire being focused on the feeling of Toji's touch.

The first press of Toji's cock against his entrance was a shock, a sudden and intense pressure that made m/n's breath catch in his throat. Toji didn't wait for him to adjust, didn't give him a moment to prepare. He pushed in, the head of his cock breaching m/n's body with a pop that made m/n gasp. The pain was fleeting, replaced almost immediately by a deep, all-consuming pleasure that had him arching off the bed.

Toji's movements were rough, his hips slamming into m/n with a ferocity that left him breathless. The blindfolded man could do nothing but feel, the darkness heightening the sensations until they were all that existed in the world. He could feel every inch of Toji's cock, the way it stretched him open, filled him up, and claimed him completely.

M/n's moans grew louder with each thrust, his body moving in time with Toji's. He could feel the older man's breath hot against his skin, his muscles tensing and releasing as he fucked him into oblivion. The silk ropes around his wrists and ankles held him in place, a delicious reminder of his submission, of the power dynamics that played out between them in the privacy of this room.

The scent of sex filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of their expensive cologne and the musky scent of desire. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in the quiet, punctuated by the occasional squeak of the bedframe and the wet sounds of their union.

M/n's body was a maelstrom of sensation, each thrust of Toji's cock sending waves of pleasure crashing through him. He could feel his orgasm building, a pressure at the base of his spine that grew more insistent with every passing moment.

Toji leaned down, his teeth grazing m/n's ear. "You're going to come for me," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "And when you do, I want you to scream my name."

M/n nodded, his voice a breathless whisper. "Yes, Toji," he said, his voice shaking with need. He knew he couldn't hold out much longer, his body was wound too tight, the pleasure too intense.

With a final, powerful thrust, Toji hit m/n's prostate, sending him over the edge. M/n screamed out his name, his body convulsing with the force of his climax. The world around him shattered into a million pieces, leaving only the feeling of Toji's cock pumping deep inside him, the sound of their harsh breathing, and the knowledge that he was completely and utterly owned by this man.

And as the waves of pleasure receded, leaving m/n trembling and sated, he knew that he would never get enough of this, never tire of the feeling of Toji's dominance, of being used and claimed by the man he had come to crave more than anything else in the world.

[yaymiyas]

THE HUSBAND

warning: female reader, saer being….saer, yan!isekai!crown prince

a/n: i was so burnt out so lets see what i come up with ….its short ik and yes im cooking up something w cynthia LET ME COOK 🫡🙄🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯💯

the idea of divorce was swimming in the mist of your mind hours before you regained most of the movement in your body. you knew you had to get out of this situation in a peaceful but quick manner. in your mind, leaving saer should have been easy since he hated edina more than the devil himself. he saw her as a shit stain satan left on earth to torture him for all of his days. so why are tears running down his face…thats odd? from all of the tweets, forums, and blogs saer had close to no emotions for edina. he hated her through and through. in the original story, he would’ve cheered of joy if she simply asked to part ways. so why was he sitting in front of you crying? was the bacon too salty? was he remembering the good ol’ times with his late father? ever since you’ve transmigrated into this story, everything has been so weird. aside from you being close to perfectly fine after being fed poison, saer has became more careful.

in the book, saer was close to a bubbling idiot. every single assassination attempt was stopped by a maid because he was stupid. he always played it as cynthia and amanda favoring edina but that wasnt the full truth. he was just too obvious with everything he was doing. you actually kind of felt back for the dummy, no wonder gracie wants nothing to do with him. regardless of any of that, you actually started to feel a bit bad for him. it was obvious saer didnt know why he was crying or how to stop it by the way his face was balled up in red confusion. maybe it was out of guilt or for the plot, either way you wanted to help him. maybe he wanted to kill you but seeing a grown man cry really did break your heart.

“now, saer..”

gently pushing your hand out to cover his larger ones, you put on a voice of concern. you want to help the poor idiot but you also want to get out of this house alive. maybe playing the sweet docile wife could do you some good, maybe—

“ugh, stupid bitch get off of me.”

slapping your hand off of his, saer attempted to keep a face of pure disgust plastered for you to see. why on earth was he crying, and why on earth are you being so off-putting? at first, your new actions didnt really bother him. were they different? yes, but they weren’t unpleasant. but now...it was as if the poison made you utterly indifferent to his presence, which he told himself he loved, but the lord knows thats a lie. you quietly sitting there, dry-face, with a slight frown and uninterested body language, angered him. saer was crying purely for reactions. he thought that crying would help him close this conversation and make you jump up and beg for his forgiveness, but no. all you did was lift your grimly, beastly fingers to ‘comfort’ him. what a joke of a woman.

“im finished with my breakfast”

the scream of the chair was louder than your own thoughts, kicking you out of your own subconscious. what even was that about? you were TRYING to be the version of edina you thought he would like, second from you killing yourself right there and then. so why was he acting like you were trying to jump his bones? he is such a wicked man….such a sad excuse of a person. its such a shame his attitude is so sour, you were going to try to soften his walls to see if he would lighten up on the poisoning situation. how did he get it? who did he get it from?

“madam,”

lightly placing her hand on your shoulder, cynthia appeared. scaring you out of your thoughts, you straightened your back and put on the best fake smile you could. you knew cynthia didnt really care for you, as demonstrated by the bath she gave you earlier, but you thought that maybe you could melt this ice queen. her soft ginger coils shaped her face in all the right places, giving her olive skin the type of glow women in the real world would kill for. she had green eyes to match alone with it, making it easy to find yourself lost in them. cynthia was a beautiful woman; just how did she become a maid for this jackass?

“his royal highness has ordered for you to be sent to your room.”

[malereadermaniac]

Moon Cycles ~ Alpha!Bokuto x Omega!Male!Reader

1 fic split into two! p1: Bokuto's ruts & p2: Your heats word count: 2.7k Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI

Bokuto's Rut(s):

Entering your apartment, all of your senses were immediately overwhelmed and dominated by your alpha's intoxicating pheromones making every particle of air in your apartment feel heavy and thick. Luckily, you were smart enough to have placed scent patches over your scent glands before going home to an alpha who had to take the day off due to his rut; preventing Bokuto's musky scent of sweat and leather from triggering your own heat early, however that didn't prevent the inhalation of his strong scent, which had already started to make you feel woozy. Quickly throwing your keys onto the counter and stripping off your jacket, you make your way urgently towards the bedroom - your inner omega screaming to aid your poor, hormone-ridden alpha.

The moment you had opened the door, the intensity of your Alpha's pheromones had doubled, forcing a blush to hit your face and your blood to rush to certain areas. Your eyes darted to the naked volleyball player on your bed, a discarded and leaking fleshlight tossed beside him while the muscular man laid on the bed in a starfish position; his body sweating profusely as the alpha was panting, lightly pink in the face. It didn't take long for Bokuto to notice you, or rather your comforting scent which you hadn't even noticed you were releasing. You smiled at your exhausted looking alpha as he perked his body up, using his built arms as leverage to hold him up, a lovestruck yet lustful smile on his face; the alpha's veiny, hard dick twitching at the sight of you.

You both let instinct drive you to the position you were now in, your bottom half completly naked with your dress shirt unbuttoned, your smaller body laying on top of Bokuto's, your body cooling off the Alpha who had been boiling alive since this morning. The usually strong and effortlessly dominant alpha was reduced to a trembling, hot mess as the pit in his stomach was eating away at him, his eyes begging you to do something instead of his mouth; as the only words he were capable of barely saying were "O-mega", "Fuu-ck" and "Good". You gently ran your hands over Bokuto's muscular, olive body, soothing him as you grind your dick against his much larger one - The alpha groans as his masculine, rough hands are almost magnetically pulled towards your soft ass, gripping at the plush skin and pushing you to grind against him harder; desperate for any form of pleasure from the omega he had been craving all day, his omega.

"Shhhh... I'm here, alpha" you coo as you gently lick at Bokuto's very wet scent gland when the man tries (and fails) to string a sentance together, too overwhelmed by the burn of his rut.

The sounds that erupted out of Bokuto when you re-ajusted so that your slick-leaking ass was grinding against his alphan cock were to die for. Along with the usually spikey hair of your alpha, which was now drenched in sweat and sticking to his forehead, and his panting, sexy face, the sight was heavenly.

Again, you're ever so glad for that scent patch on you, because you get to consciously remember Bokuto's ruts, and boy were you lucky to experience them. The first round is always the most effort for you, the alpha worn down by his useless attempts at pleasuring himself throughout the day, along with his intense rut, having tired him out; meaning that you have to do all the work for your cute alpha as to not keep him in discomfort any longer. Riding him was always fun though, despite how tiring it could get; Bokuto's firm grip on your ass and waist grounding you and him as you ride his massive cock like no tomorrow, the veiny thing pounding against your prostate and kissing your walls so nicely as your dick bounces onto Bokuto's abs - you give him quite the show, pity he barely ever remembers it after his cycle. After the alpha finally knots your tightening hole, his body finally starts to cool down, the gnawing ache in his stomach dissipating as he locks his body within yours and absolutely fills you with his thick, fertile cum - but that's just the start of his rut, not only do you have more rounds that day, but you have an average 4 more days left in the week! Nevertheless, after Bokuto falls asleep and finally slips out of you, you use up the rest of your energy to make the starving alpha something to eat; your silly alpha having spent the day trying to relieve his rut rather than eating! And after the Alpha wakes up conscious and digs into whatever delicious meal you'd prepared for him, that's when the roles reverse. The rest of the rounds that night pretty much go the same, the alpha manhandling you into multiple different positions as you let Bokuto fuck you absolutely senseless, his knot having locked the two of you together at least 4 more times that night alone and your neck and body looking like they've been mauled by a dog from the amount of lovebites and hickeys all over you.

short Bokuto-rut headcannons:

His nests are made really poorly (like most alpha's are), just a shit ton of your clothing spread around the bed with various bodily fluids soaking them - not even a blanket in sight... Typical of alphas, only thinking of what gratifies them rather than their comfort or their omega's comfort!

Bokuto's a real kisser during his ruts as well. He's a clingy alpha who just wants to show his love for you, and that love is multiplied by 100 when lust is mixed into it! That man will be thrusting into you while your in an uncomfortable mating press with cum on your face and his will still kiss you deeply with tongue - you can't be mad though, it is quite sweet, and it relaxes your body, which is very needed after what this flexible man puts you through during his cycle!

Breeding. Kink. Need I say more? Yes I do. Of course, all alphas want to breed their omega, especially during their rut. But holy shit does Bokuto not stop mentioning it during his - whether he's doing the deep and whispers in your ear "Gonna get you full of my pups, pretty boy", or roaring "Take my fucking cum, babe! GET FUCKIN KNOCKED UP" as he's knotting you, or even during aftercare as the man rubs your abdomen gently and blurts out baby names; Bokuto is always mentioning knocking you up

Near the end of his Rut, Bokuto likes nothing more than laying you in his shitty nest and eating you out for hours... His thick tongue making you cum as he devours plenty of the tasty slick you just keep on producing

Oh and after his rut? Bokuto is literally the perfect boyfriend, more than he already is! You need an icepack? Done. Food? He's whipping ten meals up in the kitchen. The volleyball player apologises if he was too rough as he kisses you gently and gives you a massage. And when this man returns to practice, fucking hell does he look like he's glowing, professing to everyone how he has the best omega in the world which he loves more than anything (and gloating that he gets the best action ever, but he doesn't mention that part)

Your Heat(s):

Bokuto can always tell when your in pre-heat, he knows his omega too well, so he's already taken the week off work even though you deny the fact that you're going into heat - despite your constant, slightly flushed complexion and your lack of control over your pheromone. So when you start to nest, Bokuto is ready to go! That man has breakfast bars and 6 bottles of water ready in your nightstands and has started releasing a comforting scent of leather and musk before you even start to call for him!

Once the muscular alpha hears your whiny call for him, Bokuto gets instantly hard; making his way towards your shared room as he struggles to strip his joggers and shirt while walking. But just because the man is eager to pleasure you until you pass out, that doesn't mean he wants to rush things - and that includes his teasing.

"Aw... are you okay, baby? What do you need?" The volleyball player would coo at you in a very slightly mocking tone as he makes his way towards your nest. Bokuto would gently hold your searing face in his huge hand and caress your cheek with his thumb as he smiles at your pout, holding back a laugh.

"Shut up... please just hurryy~" You whine, reaching out to touch your alpha, rubbing your hand down his naked abs and towards his cock which was standing loud and proud.

After a little more teasing, Bokuto decides to show mercy, noticing how your panting increases in pace, how your scent of sweet, intoxicating caramel fills the room, and how your knees trembles on the bed as slick gushes out of your hole. Because of your rapturous heat, your vision is hazy and time slows down yet speeds up at the same time, so you had really no clue to how you ended up with your legs up on Bokuto's broad, muscular shoulders, his dick already in you and moans spewing out of your mouth as if you were in pain. But you sure as hell didn't mind that, as long as your alpha was soothing the pain searing across your body and making you feel pleasure beyond that of this world - you really couldn't give a fuck if you knew what was happening or not.

Sweat, musk, cum and a harmonious mix of your pheromones and Bokuto's filled the air, adjacent to the sounds of sweaty skin slapping against sweaty skin. All that was coming out of your mouth were the words "Alpha" or "Good" or "Yes" along with plenty different whines, and moans and whimpers which sounded straight up pornographic, and your sounds worked beautifully well with Bokuto's loud roars of pleasure and groans and moans - his dirty talk on another level as he drills his dick into you in missionary. After making your vision go white, your infertile cum shooting all over your body and Bokuto's rock-hard abs, your alpha ensured that you caught your breath and forced you to drink some water - the sweet, caring man not even giving a shit about the fact that his dick was still hard as shit and that he hadn't cum yet; which was a surprise by the fact that your sloppily, slicked-up hole, tight, boiling walls and sexy moans and look was usually a cocktail for disaster with Bokuto. But Bokuto would experience the immense pleasure of knotting an omega in your next round - and not just an omega, but you, his bonded, mated omega which he loved more than life itself.

With that said, once you had caught your breath and the heat began to pool in your stomach once more, Bokuto took that as a sign to use his rough, massive hands to re-position you. With your arms hugging one of the many pillows in your nest and your chin resting on it, Bokuto was kneeled on the bed behind you; both of his massive arms wrapped around your waist as he pounded into you like a fucking animal. With your knees spread and your back arching downwards towards the bed as Bokuto's fat dick drilled against your pleasure spot, you moaned and cried out your alpha's name like a mantra - your dick dangling below you, your dickhead lightly rubbing against the best, sending shivers down your spine. All you could hear were Bokuto's rough grunts and moans of your name in your ear along with his hips smacking against your plump ass in the background - your voice raspy and airy from how much you had been using it. Along with some dirty talk (along the lines of "Fuck baby, so fuckin' good and tight for your alpha aren't ya?") Bokuto would raspily groan out an "FUCK- Gonna fuckin' cum-! Gonna knot you- omega- my fuckin' omega-" - Bokuto would become the opposite of his cute, gentle self when he was so close to his orgasm, and fuck, you loved it. You could feel the alpha's knot swell, his already huge cock becoming even harder to take, but your heat was helping you make space for him - but you still couldn't just idly sit and take it!

"HAAAA~ Soo big, alpha! TOO- BIG!~" You cry whorishly, the immense pleasure flooding your body at an alpha knotting you making you overwhelmed, forcing your body to move around and try to escape the overstimulating pleasure - however that is a) not easily done and b) painful as shit for the both of you.

"SHIT-! Don't move while I knot you, (Y/n)!" Bokuto groans, the pain and pleasure of his knot forcing into you pushing him over the edge.

To keep you in place, the massive alpha pushes his whole arm down on your neck and his massive, rough palm on the arch of your back to keep you in your place, to take his viscous seed like a good omega. With Bokuto's knot swelling to full mast, the man's grip tightens around you as he shoots his huge load, filling you up and cooling your heat down to a mild kindle despite the searing temperature of your alpha's cum. You on the other hand were screaming your head of with moans from the immesne pleasure of an alpha knotting you (especially during your heat), your cocklet shooting ropes of thin jizz onto the bed below you as your walls clamped down on Bokuto even tighter. Panting was all that could be heard in the room as the two of you lied down together, your massive alpha crushing you beneath him, but you couldn't complain. Bokuto gently started to kiss you once he was able to think of anything other than the pleasure of cumming inside of you, nipping at the bite's he'd left on you and licking at your exhausted scent gland, admiring the mating mark on it.

short Heat headcannons:

It's a basically instinct for the two of you to like the fact that, as an alpha, Bokuto is larger than you as his omega - which isn't hard with the man being fucking huge. But my lord does that little size kink go fucking haywire during your heats - Bokuto loves to look at how his hands hold your waist, not entirely but just enough, while you in your heat-drunk haze think about how the massive man could literally crush you in his grip - the though making your dick twitch. The man isn't even that much larger than you! But give him an inch and he'll talk a mile (or whatever that saying is)

Scenting is one of your big things during heat. In an sfw work you scent everything that Bokuto owns before you go into heat, and you grab anything that smells remotely like him for your nest. But when the man is fucking you until your last breath, you can't get enough of your alpha's scent - practically begging him to rub his scent gland against yours

That's another thing, your usually snarky or even bratty behaviour goes out the window during your heat, your body controlling your words and behaviour; resulting in pretty begs from your mouth which stroke Bokuto's ego ever so nicely, who's he do deny you of whatever it is that you desire?

Bokuto's aftercare is also top notch, In between round the man is cooling you off and cleaning you while ensuring that you eat and drink. And near the end of your heat, when it's more lukewarm, Bokuto draws a bath and bathes with you, caressing your body softly and scrubbing the smell of sex off of your skin. But your heat is forced into its final hurrah when Bokuto uses his long, masculine fingers to clean your loosened up hole of his thick cum, his comments of knocking you up sending you over the edge and into the final hour of your cycle~

[darkstaria]

Yandere Batfam - Soulmate Soul Animal Au.

Chapter 5:

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. Chapter 4. Chapter 6.

Sorry for the long weight everyone! I had to binge allll of Stranger Things for a friend's future birthday event and ohhh wow I thought the episodes were gonna be 20 minutes not 40-1hr

Also I suffered a bit of writers block, it happens

But regardless, I hope you all enjoy! ^ ^

(also the taglist has migrated to the bottom of the fic because it's a bit too long now)

----

The office was large, sprawling walls contained by an even bigger ceiling. The faint humming of Tim’s computer provided no reassurance, nor did the soft leather of your seat. It felt as if you could sink right into it, and try to fade away. There was a faint aroma of coffee that lingered around the office, but it gave you no solace. It just reminded you of the mistakes you made, to end up here. The elephant in the room.

Tim’s smile was bright, a warm sun. You were burning.

“It’s.. nice to see you again.” You attempted, words stumbling about on your tongue. You couldn't help it, the mere presence of your soulmate sending anxiety skyrocketing down your spine. Why couldn't he just get to the point?

“I didn't really expect my company and Wayne Enterprises to be working together.” You continued, a fake smile plastered onto your face. “What a nice coincidence!”

“I hope for us to have a successful collaboration.” Tim replies, still smiling. “But enough about the companies, it's been so long since I've seen you, and I didn't have your number to text.”

You laugh in response, a pale imitation of a real laugh. You had hoped to focus on discussing the work you both had to do first, and then escape before any catch up talks were attempted. Unfortunately, it appears that Tim won't let you do any actual work before engaging with him.

Your nails dug into your knees, an attempt to stay calm. Your reply was measured.

“Oh are you sure? Surely it would be better to get work on the collaboration done first, then we’ll have all the time left to chat freely.”

“I wouldn't worry about that, really. We’ve got plenty of time together, and I wouldn't be able to work without knowing how you're doing lately. Since you didn't have the time to text, I presume you've been busy?”

“Ah, right! Yes! Yes I have been, busy that is, you know how it is with work. Endless and all that.” You were frustrated at being pushed into a lie already. Tim was in charge here and he knew it.

“Why don't you give me your number then?” His smile was perfect, as flawless as his manipulation. “That way, when you're too busy to remember to message, I can remind you.”

You frowned. Like he didn't know your number already.

Quickly remembering you had to smile, you gave him your number, watching as he slowly typed it in, then texted. Only when you showed you received his text did he relent.

The ‘meeting’ continued on from there, Tim asking about all your hobbies and passions. Time ticked on, daylight turning to evening. Any attempt from you to redirect the conversation to either himself or work was swiftly dismissed. A small part of you admired his skill, he was playing you like a doll. You knew it, but you had no option but to play along. It was like an older sibling playing pretend with the young sibling. You hated the comparison.

The attention was unnerving. Your only solace was that neither of you had soul animals present currently, which was an absolute miracle.

Actually… what if that isn't a coincidence at all? Could this too have been engineered? Was that even possible?

“So then what’s your opinion on..” The sound of Tim’s voice slammed you back to reality. You quickly focused back in, fearing losing any advantage due to a lack of attention.

Abruptly, an alarm sounded, the noise blazing a path through your eardrums. You jolted in surprise. Tim however, was barely rattled. A frown appeared on his face as he glanced at his phone.

“That was the Arkham Asylum breakout alarm. It's no longer safe to go outside.” With these words Tim got up, walking over to the door and opening it.

“What…?” You mumbled, horrified.

“Stay here.” He commanded, a firm tone in his voice. This was Red Robin. “I’m going to check on the building, don't leave, it isn't safe.”

“Wait! But.. the collaboration.. we didn't..” The words rushed out of your mouth, leaving you feeling like a fool as Tim paused for a moment, to look at you.

“Don't worry.” He smiled, the weight of it bearing down upon you. You felt small. “You can just come in tomorrow, I'm sure your company won't mind.” With the final word said, Tim closed the door, presumably rushing off to become Red Robin. The click of the door felt like a dismissal, a scolding. A reminder to stay in your place.

Once again, you were trapped.

You clenched your fists. He wanted you to stay here, in his territory. You didn't doubt that Wayne Enterprises had amazing security, probably some of the best considering the identities of the owners. This was likely the third most safe place in Gotham, with the first and second places going to Batman’s base and Wayne Manor.

But… you haven't learned anything yet. All that time spent with him and somehow he hadn't brought up that singular, obvious fact. There was no way he didn't know, not with the way he was acting. And yet, he hadn't brought it up. Why?

What was he getting out of this?

Was he hoping that if you assumed he didn't know then you could easily be monitored? Was he just gathering information before acting? Where was the rest of the vigilantes in this?

Your head was spinning, going in circles. You couldn't understand him, you couldn't understand any of them. Why choose to be vigilantes, knowing the costs that life endures? Why were you tied to them, when you were so against a fundamental part of their existence?

You couldn't understand this at all. How could this be the basis of a soulmate bond?

You were… opposites.

You felt the telltale beat of an oncoming headache. For your own sanity, you decided to fold the incoming soulmate crisis into a small cavity of your brain to panic about later.

Fact One: There was an ongoing Arkham Asylum breakout, everyone is either being attacked, hiding away or escaping the city.

Fact Two: Batman and all his partners are going to be occupied for at least several hours if not a day.

Fact Three: You were going to take advantage of this.

It was the perfect time. All your soulmates were occupied, so none of them would be able to pay any attention to you. Red Robin might know your identity, and so the other vigilantes may know as well.

That didn't need to matter. They may have the information, but information itself is useless, if they are unable to act.

Right now, any Gothamite that isn't involved with rogues is either hiding or escaping. You could join the escapes, and get out of Gotham in the rush.

You didn't have to stay here, to play the role of a caged bird. You could escape, before they even got a chance.

You had to try.

You suppressed a shaky sigh, getting up and walking to the door. You tried the door handle.

Locked.

Uh oh. You tried it again, and then a few more times after that, shaking the door eventually in your desperation. Oh come on! You desperately thought to yourself. The one time you finally got the perfect chance and it's being ruined by a locked door.

Wait. You glanced at the small window in the door, the beginnings of an idea sprouting in your head. You glance over at Tim’s desk, noticing a small paper weight. You smile.

Lifting the paperweight, you judge the weight to be enough. Holding it up, you get into position to throw.

Wait.. the door has a keyhole, not a sliding chain, you realize, almost too late.

Ah.

Well that would have been embarrassing.

Sadly, you place the paperweight back down. There goes that idea.

But that wasn't the only door in the office, there was another one, the one that the shouting voice left out of. You approach the door, trying the doorknob.

Click!

It opens! Giving a small laugh, you advance through the door and out into the halls of Wayne Enterprises, a jubilant smile on your face. Whoever was shouting at Tim earlier, you almost wanted to thank them.

You avoid the elevators, instead picking stairs, as you presumed they may also be in lockdown. It didn't take you too long to get down to the ground floor, since the main walking areas were now barren of people.

The ground floor had some unfortunate news to offer you though. The once wildly open doors had now been locked down and barred, an iron wall between you and freedom.

Although, maybe there was some other way, you thought, eyeing the anxious security guards patrolling the front entrance.

Pulling out of your hiding spot, you approach the guards, making to time your steps, making noise to not scare them. You really didn't want to get shot before you had even left the safety of the building.

“P-please help me!” You stuttered, trembling with tears in your eyes. The guards jolted in surprise, turning to face you. They were expecting threats from the outside, not the inside.

“I need to get home, I can't stay here.” You sobbed, the guards pausing in confusion. They didn't know what to do with you.

“What’s wrong?” A sympathetic guard asked, patting you gently on the back. You almost felt bad.

“I need to go home!” You repeated, tone frantic.

A disgruntled guard stepped up to you. “Look, no one can leave right now. Company policy. It isn't safe, there's been an Arkham breakout. Just sit tight, and whatever’s waiting for you at home will be there when you get back.”

“N-no…” You mumbled. “You don't understand.. I have.. I have a cat, waiting for me.” You glance up, watching the expressions on their faces. They seem unmoved. “A-and my child!” You cry out, realizing you needed a better lie.

“A child?” The disgruntled guard repeated, sounding a little more sympathetic, but clearly not convinced. He eyed you up and down, evidentially thinking you looked a little too young.

“They're so little, but my cat likes to take care of them and I needed the money so, so I left them at home alone today. But recently they're been figuring out how to open doors and if anything happened to them I don't know what I’d d-” Your frantic lie is cut off, the disgruntled guard laying a hand on your shoulder.

“Alright listen. None of us can escort you, we're here on the job.”

You nodded, feeling exuberation rush through you.

“But if anything happened, run right back here, alright?”

You nodded again, fighting a smile on your face. The guards unlocked the doors, watching you dash out with frowns on their tired faces.

They were obvious to the beaming smirk on yours.

Nights in Gotham are by nature a little terrifying, but they're nothing compared to an Arkham breakout night. Shadows crawled up alleyways, the smell of booze and smoke lingering in a way it never could on normal nights. The terror was so pungent in the air, you could almost taste it. It was on the tip of your tongue.

Every so often you'd hear a scream, and you'd walk a little faster. Ideally you would have committed to the stealth route, but you had wasted enough time already.

Your house was on the way to the bus station, so you could easily pop in, grab essentials, and get out. You wouldn't lie, you were nervous. Every so often you’d feel your knees lose strength, and you'd have to fight with your body to regain the strength to stand.

But at this point it was either the horror of whatever your soulmates had in store for you, or the horrors of Arkham night. You'd already picked your poison, now it was time to swallow.

You took a breath in, then out, and continued walking. You were almost there.

The streets of Gotham stretched on endlessly, a cacophony of fear.

Just a bit longer.

A gunshot sounded nearby, the noise blasting through your eardrum.

Almost there.

The hum of a van's engine rushed through the night, haunting laughter echoing through the road.

You could see your house!

You beamed, a smile lighting up your face, as you practically skipped up to the entrance. You reached into your bag to withdraw your keys.

You had just retrieved them when a crowbar smashed into your head.

----

Wow umh, please pray for reader guys, this is NOT going well for them. Who do you think that was?

Me writing shenanigans for this chapter:

I just really feel like reader should smash open this window, let's do it. Wait. They wouldn't have doors that work like that. so reader sadly puts the heavy object down :(

Also me: yeah so reader lies here and it's an absolute mess

Also also me: rip reader that's a lotta head trauma omg

Sorry for the lack of soul animals this chapter :(( there's a reason I swear

The next chapter is definitely gonna be a bit insane, for sure! The soul animals return then anddd in droves!

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If I missed anyone out im super sorry! I generally check the replies for the current chapter and messages for people that want to be tagged, so it's possible for people to slip by

Just remind me again and I'll be sure to add you! (This also goes for if I misspell you accidentally, which also happens cuz I type them all manually)

For some reason I couldnt tag anymore people until I put a random space in-between the tags, so that's apparently a thing. If anyone has any ideas why, I'm listening

[dorkszn]

7 MINUTES IN HELL + satoru gojo

SYNP — getting stuck with your ex-boyfriend during a dumb game of seven minutes in hell heaven

WARNINGS — amab reader, dom!top!reader, sub!bottom!gojo, brat gojo, porn w plot, forced proximity, pet names, dunk sex, drinking, smoking (weed), closet sex, fingering, orgasm denial, anal sex, college au, implied commitment issues, implied toxic relationship, gojo’s kinda an asshole, degradation, creampie, minor feminization | 3.8K words

A/N — my first time writing top reader i think 🥹🥹 I’m actually so proud of this

Everyone knows when and why the two of you broke up. If you can even call it a breakup. It was more of a tear-filled yelling session between a pair of friends with benefits. That’s how he described it. One where Satoru ended up walking out your front door and you dropped onto your couch with angry tears in your eyes.

Nobody questioned you guys afterward though. Suguru kept quiet, listening to Satoru whenever he ranted. Shoko sat beside you, sharing a cigarette and takeout with you. Haibara kept his usual self, forcing everyone into group activities. And Nanami who kept to himself, per usual.

The house was full to the brim of loud, drunk college students. Music blaring and the stench of alcohol intoxicated every inch of the air. Your typical party. Some people play beer pong in the basement of the home you knew all too well, some make out in the corners and crevices, and some dance with their friends in the middle of the living room you’d hung out in many times.

Haibara wasn’t particularly known for his parties but he had thrown a few good ones in the past few months. Some you had attended and some you decided to miss out on. You couldn’t miss this one though. No matter how badly you wished you could. Shoko dragged you here because she couldn’t say no to Haibara’s invitation. Which for some reason meant that you couldn’t say no either.

Currently, you stand in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as a girl you recognize as a lower classman speaks to you. “But yeah, Mr. Yaga is just—“ her words are interrupted by a small hiccup. “Such an asshole, you know? And I don’t even have his class!” She’s been stumbling and stammering the whole conversation but for some reason, she’s one of the only bearable people here.

“Ain’t that the truth,” You blandly chuckle, sipping at your drink and emptying your red solo cup. “Be right back.” You tell her through the boisterous tune playing through the house. You slide past a few people to make your way to the fridge.

You open it and let the cool air abduct you. A nice break from the stuffiness of the crowd. An arrangement of alcohol sits in front of you. Your gaze runs through it, trying to pick whatever stands out. A singular white claw catches your attention. You reach for it only to be interrupted by another’s hand grabbing it.

“What the he—“ you whip around to face the thief. Of course, it’s this bastard. White hair and black, circular sunglasses greet you along with a stupid signature grin.

“Oops, did you want this?” Satoru hums. He cracks the can open and takes a dragged-out sip of it. You roll your eyes at his typical antics, shutting the fridge.

“Fuck off, Gojo.” You scoff.

“Ow, last name basis, baby?” He hums, drinking from the can once more. You feel your blood beginning to boil in your veins. You push past him, knocking him back ever so slightly with the force.

“Don’t call me that.” You grumble. You make your way to the basement where you know Haibara would have more alcohol. Gojo chuckles and trails behind you.

“We’re playing some games upstairs if you wanna join.” He offers. You glance back at him with narrow eyes.

“With you? No thanks.” You hum, jogging down the stairs. A cup pong game runs in the large basement, a crowd building around it. The well-known jocks stand in the middle, being hyped up by their teammate.

You hold a prolonged stare at one of the jocks. He’d always caught your eye. “Really? Jocks don’t give a good fuck. I know they seem like it but they don’t.” Gojo suddenly speaks up again.

“Do you ever stop and think that some people want more than a fuck-buddy?” You hiss, turning to look back at the man. He gives you a softer look. Your past flashed through his mind. He sits in silence. You sigh and continue to the box of beer in the corner of the room. You grab a can and crack it open.

“Go find something to do, Gojo.” You mumble, leaving him in the basement.

An hour or two and a few more drinks in, you find yourself watching a UNO game running at Haibara’s dining table. Utahime sits in front of you, holding three cards in her hand. She might be the only other person that Gojo irritates more than you. A focused aura surrounds her, keeping you just a foot away from her.

“You got money on this game?” You ask her, glancing over her cards through slightly hazy eyes.

“Of course she does. As do I,” Another voice speaks up. Mei Mei sits just one seat away from Utahime, she holds just two cards in her hand. You can’t help but chuckle. Of course. Utahime is too competitive for her good and Mei Mei is one of the freakiest gold diggers ever.

Suddenly a hand lands on your shoulder. You turn at the weight and see Shoko. She holds up a plastic ziploc bag, with a small bundle of green inside of it. “Holy shit, Sho.” You slightly gasp with a grin.

The woman smirks back at you. “Found out my guy was here. Plus it was free, beat him in Smash Brothers for it.” She explains. If there was anyone to count on to find something to smoke, it was Shoko.

“Wanna go up? I hear Yu’s room is open.” She questions, gesturing to the stairs. You nod and give Utahime an encouraged pat on the shoulder. You and Shoko find your way through the crowd, squeezing past people kissing, and dancing. You finally make it to the stairs where two students sit at the bottom, one sitting in the other lap. Everyone’s gonna feel like shit on Monday.

You somehow make it up the stairs and follow Shoko’s guide. You find your friend’s room but Shoko stops you before you can open the door. “Don’t freak out, okay? I know that’s unlike you but still.” She murmurs.

You shoot her a confused look before shrugging. “Okay?”

Shoko nods and grabs the knob, opening the door. Haibara’s bedroom looks how it usually does. Suguru and Gojo sit on the bed, sharing a bag of chips between the two of them. Haibara is on the floor beside Nanami, running a game of shogi. You look over at Shoko and she furrows her brows. You sigh.

“Hey, I found y/n.” She hums to the group before closing the door behind the two of you. You awkwardly wave to your group of friends and join Shoko on the floor against the wall.

“Y/n, will you tell Kento that this can't move diagonally?" Yu huffs, showing you one of the game pieces.

“You know I don’t know how to play shogi.” You reply. Yu facepalms before nodding and turning back to the blonde. You watch as Shoko quickly works to roll the weed into the paper. You think she could do this in her sleep if she tried.

When done, she passes you the blunt and reaches for her lighter. “Shit.” You hear her mumble.

“Suguru, got a lighter?” You ask, focusing your gaze on him and only him. You see Gojo watching you out of the corner of your eye but ignore him. Suguru digs through the pockets of his baggy sweatpants, finding his old-fashioned flick lighter. He tosses it to you and you catch it in your right hand.

Shoko cups her hand around the flame as you hold it to the paper. It lights and you shut the lighter. Gojo’s staring at you, you can feel it. You place it between your lips and tuck the lighter in your pocket. You look back at him as you take a drag of the drug. You pass it to Shoko and gently blow out the smoke.

Gojo’s face flushes a soft pink before he turns his attention back to Suguru.

“Oh my god!” Haibara suddenly outbursts. You all turn to look at him. “Ok! Ok! Let’s play something else.” He seethes, frustration written on his face.

“Jeez, grab a beer, dude,” Shoko says, blowing smoke out from her lips.

“What d’you wanna play?” Gojo hums, clearly amused by the idea. Haibara ponders for a moment before his eyes settle on a hat on top of his dresser.

“I have an idea,” he smirks. He stands and grabs the hat then a piece of paper and a marker.

“I don’t like this.” Nanami groans, dragging a hand down his face. While Yu begins ripping up the photo, the door bursts open. An angry Utahime and a grinning Mei Mei enter.

“How’d the game go?” You hum, turning to the two girls. Utahime simply glares at you and you smile back.

“I ran her pockets of course,” Mei answers with a smug grin. Before Utahime can remark, Yu calls out.

“Ok! Everyone write their name on a piece of paper and put it in the hat,” Haibara tells you all, handing everyone a small piece of paper and Suguru a pen.

“We’re not children, Yu-Bara,” Shoko scoffs.

“Exactly. That’s why we’re playing big games,” he says excitedly. “Spin the bottle and seven minutes in heaven.” Everyone groans or sighs at his antics, except for Gojo. He laughs.

Reluctantly, you all scribble your names down and drop the folded papers within the hat. You all form a circle in the middle of Haibara’s room floor. Shoko on your right, Kento to your left, and the white-haired bastard across from you.

An empty beer bottle is placed in the middle of the circle. “Let’s keep this fun, guys. No fighting or arguing, alright?” Yu hums. You all nod and he grabs the bottle. It spins rapidly between you all. Everyone’s eyes trained on it. The bottle comes to a slow before stopping, the mouth of the bottle pointing at you.

A cloud of smoke leaves you with a sigh. “Of course.” You mutter. Yu then replaces the bottle with the hat of names. You look at the antsy expressions on your friends' faces before closing your eyes. Your fingers shuffle through the papers then grab one.

A combined “ouuuu” from Haibara, Gojo, and Mei Mei fills the room as you open your eyes. You roll your eyes at their childishness. Slowly, you open the small piece of paper.

‘Satoru ;)’

You’ve got to be fucking kidding. Your facial expression must’ve given away your thoughts because everyone stares at you oddly. Shoko leans over and reads the sheet. “Oh shit.” She gasps slightly.

You look up to meet blue eyes then flip the paper around for everyone to see. Numerous reactions leave the group. But you focus on the grin that covers Gojo’s face. “Well, isn’t it your lucky day?” He quips. He stands and holds his hand out to you. You take one last drag of the blunt before standing and ignoring his assistance.

“Sure is,” you mumble, smoke flowing through your words. Yu trails behind the two of you to the closet. You walk in first, Gojo following.

“Be nice guys! Have fun!” He waves with a taunting grin before shutting the door. You hear him push a chair up in front of it, preventing your escape. “Your seven minutes start now!” He yells, his voice slightly muffled by the door.

You hesitate through the darkness, trying to space yourself away from Gojo. “Just stay on your side for the next 7 minutes and we’ll be fine.” You sigh. Gojo pulls out his phone and turns on the flash, shining the bright light at you.

You wince at the light and put a hand up to shield your eyes. “You see the space we got? There aren’t any sides, sweetheart.” He scoffs, showing you the minimal space of the closet. He stands just about a foot and a half away from you. The proximity almost made your skin crawl.

“Why are you such an asshole?” You question, dragging a hand over your face.

“I don’t know, sweetheart. Most people disagree with you, y’know?” Satoru hums, flashing you a grin.

“Don’t call me that,” you hiss again. “Plus, most of those people don’t know you.”

“You didn’t seem to mind it the first time,” he snickers and you glare at him. “Besides, are you implying that you know me?”

“No, I thought I did but clearly not.” You grumble, folding your arms over your chest. Satoru ever-so-slightly frowns at this.

“C’mon man, it was just a misunderstanding,” Satoru sighs, pushing his snowy hair out of his face. A misunderstanding was a severe understatement. You couldn’t tell if it was the closet or the alcohol in your system but anger began to fuel your body. “And it’s not my fault you were naive.” He adds.

Before you can think about it, you’re grabbing his shirt and shoving him against the closet wall. His phone falls to the floor with a soft thud, the light illuminating the closet from the ground. Satoru swallows and looks at you with wide eyes. His hand grips your wrist.

“Sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to get you all worked up,” he apologizes with a smirk, gently tapping at your wrist. This bastard.

“I can’t fucking stand you, Satoru.” You seethe, bringing your face close to his. You didn’t want the others to hear and think something was going on.

“You say that and you still haven’t found anyone better than me,” The male replies, putting the two of you just inches apart. A sudden warmth surrounds you, your heart pounding in your ears. “You know you love how I make you feel.” He whispers.

He wasn’t wrong there. Every fuck after him just felt dull and you were left feeling bad for whoever you were with. And nobody pushes your buttons quite like Satoru does. Nobody makes you feel like he does. And you hate it.

“Fuck you,” you finally stammer out with a shaky breath. He lets out a low chuckle.

“You miss that, don’t you?” Satoru murmurs, his grin just inches away from your lips. You’d like to blame the alcohol for your next actions. But both of you know, your mind and body were craving the man in front of you. He was addicting.

You finally took him into a rough kiss, pulling a small sound from him. His lips feel so natural against yours. They feel no different than a few months ago. The two of you move so knowingly with each other, lips in sync. Satoru’s hands grip your shirt, slightly pulling at the fabric. One of your hands finds his waist while the other makes its way to his hair.

You tug on the snowy tufts, pulling a wince from the man’s throat. You slip your tongue past his lips, taking in every inch of him for the first time in a while. Your mind has every part of him engraved in it but your body longs to re-explore him once more. The taste of alcohol lingers on his tongue, matching yours.

You want to breathe him in more. Use him as your oxygen source instead of the small air supply of the closet. However, you pull on his hair once more and pull away from him. A string of saliva connecting the two of you. Your chest heaves up and down, pressing against his. You wonder if he can feel your racing heart.

“Missed you too, baby—“

“Shut up.” You say, voice stern. You pull at his belt with one hand, the other wrapping around his throat. Satoru lets out a weak groan as you undo his belt buckle. You move to his pants until they’re both loose around his waist. The waistband of his boxers reveals itself, as well as the slight bulge in the cotton.

You don’t loosen your grip on his neck when you lift two fingers to his lips. “Get 'em’ wet.” You mumble to him. Your fingers slip past his shining, pink lips and into his mouth. His tongue pressed against your fingerpads before swirling around your digits.

Satoru’s eyes stare straight into yours over the edge of his sunglasses. You feel your dick slightly twitch in your pants, making you swallow harshly. “So you do listen,” you hum. You pull your fingers out with a small ‘pop’ from him.

“When I want to—“ his words are interrupted again when you turn him around, his back facing you. You make quick work of pulling down his pants and boxers. Satoru’s back naturally arches when the cold air hits his skin.

You snicker in response with a small hiccup. “You’re such a slut, Toru,” you tell him as you reveal his hole to you.

“Shut the hell up.” He replies, his words breaking down into a moan when you spit on his entrance and push two fingertips past the ring of muscle. You push your fingers further, prodding at his walls.

“Shit, has anyone stretched you out since me? You feel exactly how I left you.” You grin cockily. Satoru grumbles curses in response and rolls his eyes. You scissor and part your fingers inside of him, stealing lewd noises from the man.

“Yeah… tons, guys way better than you.” Satoru pants, a faltering smile on his face as he glances back at you. You lean forward and bite down on the sensitive spot of his neck. His cry is like music to your ears, making you smirk against his skin. Your tongue laps over the reddening spot as your hand moves to his mouth, covering it with your palm.

“Quiet down, will you? Everyone already knows you’re a whore,” you hiss. You feel Satoru tighten around you, making you groan and his eyes roll. He’s close. “Gonna cum already?” You hum, quickening the pace of your fingers. Your digits curling inside of him.

“Ngh— fuck off,” Satoru mumbles, slightly moving his hips to fuck himself on your fingers. But you pull away, watching his entrance clench around nothing. A small gasp escapes the man. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” He examines, turning his head to look back at you with a deep glare.

You scoff before reaching for your belt. “Nothing nearly as bad as whatever is wrong with you.” You reply, undoing your belt buckle and your pants zipper. You pull down your boxers that are slightly stained with your precum. Satoru swallows as he looks down at your growing erection, mouth practically salivating at the sight. A hungry lustful look in his bright blue eyes.

You tease Satoru’s entrance with your tip, just barely pushing into him and pressing kisses to the ring of muscle. Satoru lets out an annoyed whine, his hips squirming and pushing back against you. You groan when he desperately grinds against your length. “C’mon, just put it in.” He pleads.

“Such a needy boy,” you murmur. You push into him and his eyes roll back in his head as your cock fills him. Your breath shakes as it passes your lips, his walls tighten around your length. So warm and holding you just right. “Fuck Toru, you’re so tight.” You hiss in his ear, pressing a kiss against the skin.

“Just fuck me already.” He scoffs weakly, his chest slightly heaving against the closet walls. You wrap a hand around his throat and grip his hip with the other, your fingertips surely bruising where they sit. You pull out of him agonizingly slowly, taking inch by inch away from Satoru.

You then slam back into him to the hilt, a choked whimper leaving him. “Not such an arrogant bastard anymore.” You murmur before picking up your pace again. His muffled sounds don’t go unheard as you focus on the way your cock disappears into the plump flesh of his ass.

A harsh clap echoed throughout the closet with every collision of your hips. “agh— sweetheart, s’too good.” Satoru pants, hands clawing at whatever fabric was closest to him.

“Yeah? Who fucks you the best?” You hum, relentlessly as you buck your hips forward. Your leaking tip punctuating every time you hit that certain spot inside him. A spot you’d never forget.

“Shit, you do. You fuck me the best.” The snow-haired male whimpers. You shift your hand around his throat, pulling him right against you. A pornographic moan erupts from his throat. A noise everyone outside the closet definitely heard. Two of your fingers find their place in Satoru’s mouth again, pressing down on his tongue.

“Shh. Don’t want everyone to hear how much you love my dick, right?” You coo, running your tongue along the exposure of his neck. A muffled “mhm-mhm” leaves Satoru as his tongue focuses on your fingers occupying his mouth.

However, this can’t distract from the feeling of slamming into him. Spreading him apart and filling every centimeter of his insides, reaching sensitive spots he never knew even existed. The feeling of Satoru’s hand pushing against your abdomen doesn’t even register in your mind for seconds as you get lost in his cunt.

You take hold of his wrist and move it off of your flushed skin. “Take it, Toru. You know you can.”

“Can’t, m’fucking— gonna cum.” He babbles.

“Yeah? Go ahead, cum around my cock. Make a mess for me.” You tell him through a smug grin. Your hand drags down from his mouth to his dick, wrapping around it and pumping him to the rhythm of your thrust.

“Fuck, baby, missed you so so much.” Satoru groans before ropes of cum spurt from his tip. His eyes squeeze shut so tight and his body trembles against you. His seed coating your hand and fingers.

“So fucking sloppy.” You mewl, feeling your balls clench as you stuff yourself into Satoru to the hilt. You bite down on his neck as you release in him, stuffing him to the brim with your cum.

A weak whine pulls from Satoru when you finally pull your teeth out of his neck and lap your tongue over the spot.

The two of you sit in your mess, the smell of sex and sweat intoxicating the small space. You can feel Satoru’s heart racing in his chest. You just sit for a moment until you go limp within him before pulling out. Satoru leans against the closet wall, lips glossy with spit and eyes hazed over with lust.

Suddenly, he gives you a weak grin. And you can’t help but drunkenly smile back. Idiot. You glance down and see your cum beginning to dribble out of him. Satoru grunts when you push a finger into him, assuring your seeds place inside of him.

“Missed you too, baby.”

[sanjisboyfie]

๑ mummified [name] (29)

one piece x male reader

oh, the boy's a slag,

the best you've ever had

『 prev 』

nami covered her mouth at the sight.

it was truly gruesome. how did [name] end up in such a severely worse state than both sanji and usopp, even though they suffered the same attack? nami didn’t have any idea why, nor did she find herself caring for a reason.

not when she was reminded of how [name] was no longer breathing.

she turned him onto his back, grimacing at the sound the blood mad underneath the movement of his body. she took a couple of deep breaths before performing basic cpr.

“come on! [name], you can’t die here!” she shouted, frantically repeating the compressions with a steady rhythm. her arms were straight, in proper positioning, and she huffed with the motion of her body weight pressing down onto the area above [name]’s heart. “wake up!!!”

she debated on whether or not to give the breaths to [name] before shaking her head and committing herself to the routine. if it was life or death, then giving two breaths of air mouth to mouth wasn’t even a big deal. she wouldn’t hesitate if it meant the difference of [name] dying or living.

but just as she tilted his head back, to open his airway, there was a cough of blood that erupted from his mouth. she flinched away immediately to avoid the liquid splattering on her and also in shock. she looked at [name]’s chest and realized it was moving, very, very slowly, but it was moving.

“[name]!!!” she shouted, turning him to his side so that the blood could escape his mouth, instead of suffocating his airway. in a panic, she slapped his back a couple of times to urge the liquid to come out — not really thinking the action through in terms of bodily harm. but she didn’t have time to seriously evaluate her actions, not when she was just so frantic in seeing [name] stay alive.

he continued coughing out blood, the liquid dribbling out of his mouth and forming a puddle near his cheek. nami felt tears spring to her eyes as she saw how weak and fragile he really was.

his eyes were barely open, his jaw ajar, and his body was twitching every now and then.

“so much…blood,” nami breathed out, looking at the expanse of [name]’s body and her eyes becoming dull at the sight and reality. [name] had lost too much blood for it to be normal, for him to even be alive.

but she wasn’t going to question how he survived, she would just do everything in her power to ensure he stayed alive. she stood upright and was about to run to grab chopper’s spare bandages, gritting her teeth as she willed her legs to run forward.

but now, her and the weird knight had to be dealing with these two random circular people that had invaded their ship. they were spewing some irrelevant information about how usopp and sanji killed their brother, but nami could care less.

when they both started throttling her crew’s body around, she felt nothing but anger surge in her core.

“don’t touch them!!” she shouted, taking apart her clima tact and shooting two bars of it forward, the blue weapon forming an “x” shape as it was thrown towards the duo. “they’re already unconscious! can’t you see?! he’s going to die of blood loss, stop it!!!”

the two people obviously didn’t care for her pleading, which only made her more aggravated.

the weird knight and her made quick work in dealing with the two, nami filled with a new sense of urgency when she saw how beaten up and bloodied [name] really was. her eyes almost welled with tears, but she blinked them away and forced herself to focus on attacking.

after a joint effort in defeating the two, the ship and crew were finally safe again. nami threw off the gauntlet she was forced to use, rushing over to [name]’s side and holding her hand over his heart. a wave of relief came over her when she felt it was still beating.

“i need to do first aid quickly,” she reminded herself, running to grab the bandages from chopper’s quarters and then coming back onto the deck and hastily treating [name].

she apologized briefly to the unconscious sanji and usopp, but considering that they were not in as terrible condition as [name], she didn’t feel all that bad treating [name] first.

“old man!! where do you think you’re going?!” she shouted from [name]’s side, seeing that the old man was now adorning his metallic fear. “you can’t just leave us here?!”

“i apologize, but i must follow where enel went,” gan fall spoke, eyeing the injured [name] with immense pity, “please, treat him quickly and the other two so that you all can make it out of here alive,”

before nami could further argue with him, the sky night and his bird took off. she grit her teeth in annoyance, angrily wrapping the bandages around [name]’s bloodied form.

just as she thought she was at least half way done in treating him, there was a sudden blast of music that was heard from behind merry.

she fully expected to see some sort of enemy attacking them once again, but insteaad was confused when she saw a little ship being steered by conis and her father.

“nami-san! heso!” conis greeted, making nami tilt her head in confusion.

pagaya parked the vehicle behind merry and the two climbed aboard, a new face in tow.

“this is aisa-san, we had agreed to-”

“stay away blue sea people! i am a warrior of shandora and i will eliminate you!!”

pagaya’s explanation of who the girl was was cut off by the child herself, who was waving around a “weapon” in nami’s face. the woman could only look at her with an unimpressed expression, push her aside by using her elbow to get her out of the way, and looking up at conis.

“help me treat them, all of them are in really bad shape, but [name], i think he’s in the worst conditon,” conis and her father looked at the man in shock. the tall man that was comfortably eating at their home only hours before was now boiled down to a completely bloodied mess.

conis jumped to action, retrieving her first aid bag from their own personal ship and then immediately getting to work on treating him. nami assisted her, wiping [name] down clean of any blood and then immediately plastering a healing balm over his wounds.

the most obvious signs of damage were near his face, such as his eyes and ears, as well as his chest. conis worked as calmly as she could whilst nami kept a hardened expression the entire time she was treating [name].

‘if you even think about dying, [name], i’ll make sure to give you an earful in hell! there’s no way you’re dying today!’ the navigator thought to herself, watching conis’ finger expertly navigate the roll of bandage around [name]’s body.

“he should be completely covered now,” conis sighed after a strenous couple of minutes of work.

[name] was dressed head to toe in bandages. his eyes, nose, and mouth were the only uncovered parts of his face since he, obviously, needed to see and breathe. nami had covered him up with his shorts, but didn’t bother with his shirt since she didn’t want to move him around all that much.

“the healing balm underneath the bandages act as a cooling agent as well as an antibacterial, so it should target the possible burns he might have suffered from enel’s attack as well as fight infection,” conis informed nami, who only nodded her head in understanding. the skypiean noticed the other woman’s worried gaze lingering on [name], so she offered her comfort by rubbing up and down her back, “i will treat the other two, please stay by his side to keep him company.”

nami nodded, muttering a thank you, and positioned herself to be as close as possible to [name]’s resting body. her hand rested on top of his chest, right above his heart and it was a comfort to feel the faint beating against her own skin.

“i hope the others are doing alright,” she said to herself, looking down at [name]’s body with deep regret evident on her face. “seriously, you’re always getting into life threatening danger…for what, you idiot?”

she grit her teeth in annoyance, thinking back to alabasta. they were lucky to have vivi and chopper both on the scene to treat him quickly. and nami feels thankful to have conis help her out with the first aid. but her worry and anxiety over his wellbeing still hadn’t been quenched at all. without chopper here to treat him, he may as well be closer to being a dead man than walking this off like he did in alabasta.

when caused [name] to wake from his knocked out state was the giant beam of lightening that had shot straight down from the sky. he coughed blood up as the electricity hit the island beside them, making the water underneath merry rock back and forth.

he stabilized his breathing before taking in his surroundings. they were below deck of merry and beside him, usopp and sanji were bandaged up to treat their own wounds. and that was when he noticed he was wrapped head to toe in white bandages, some parts of the white surface blotted with red blood.

he groaned, feeling fatigue and pain wash over his entire body. of course, the god had to have the ability linked to electricity, he cursed in his head. he rolled over, trying to urge his legs in stepping forward. it took a couple of tries, like a baby deer walking for the first time, but then he was finally able to make it to the door.

when he slammed it open, the first thing he heard were the cries of someone. he searched the deck and saw a familiar head of blonde hair and a pair of white wings on their back. he walked forward, eyes softening as he saw that she was the source of crying.

seeing as he was unable to speak properly, the bandages around his face secured rather tight, all he could do was kneel down beside her and offer him his arms.

”[name]?” she breathed out in shock, surprised to see that he was even conscious so soon. when she saw the gesture he was offering, his arms spread open and his torso awaiting, she bit her lip and tried to muffle her cries. she collapsed into his arms, crying into the bandages around his chest as he hugged her tight.

she had just witnessed her father die, all thanks to enel and his lightening powers. she feels nothing but grief and anger. how could enel do this to her father? and while [name] didn’t even know the gravity of their current situation, he held her for as long as she needed with a stoic expression underneath his bandaged face.

“[name]! enel is going to-” she cut herself off, not wanting the same fate of her father to befall [name] and herself, “no, i can’t! i have to go, [name], i can’t explain further.”

[name] blinked at her sudden change in demeanor, tilting his head to the side in confusion. seeing the fire in her eyes and hearing her determination, though, he let her go and stood upright.

”for our safety, i can’t say what i have heard, but please tend the other two while i relay the message to the people. i can’t allow for this to happen without warning the others!” whatever “this” was, [name] didn’t know, but he didn’t bother trying to stop her.

instead, he only attempted a smile and threw her a thumbs up.

conis faltered at the sight, rushing forward and hugging him with the lightest touch and then backing away, “thank you for understanding! i really wish i didn’t have to leave the three of you without aid, but i must! i’m sorry! [name], please be safe!”

he waved her comment off, rolling his eyes at her apology, and shooing her away. she weakly laughed at his behavior, running off the deck of the ship and onto the miniature boat that she and her father had brought.

the only plan of action was to bring merry to the original meeting point. unfortunately, he would just have to hope that he was steering merry in the right direction. after getting everything in order, he walked to the room where sanji and usopp were resting and went to take care of them.

the two rags that were resting on their heads was set on the rim of the pail of water, so he first went to set them back in place. after wringing the water out, he placed the two rags on their foreheads. he continued to silently work in making sure they were comfortable, covering them with the thick blankets and fluffing their pillow.

in the midst of him treating them, sanji began muttering in his sleep. he wasn’t really listening, blocking out the noise and just focusing on how to speed up their healing process.

as he was redoing the bandages around sanji’s arms, though, the blonde unconsciously grabbed his own and pathetically called out, “nami-san~” to which [name] very abruptly dropped sanji’s hand with a grimace.

the action made sanji’s eyes open and when he saw the mummified version of [name] staring at him, he scurried away and wrapped himself in the blanket for protection, “no way i just held your hand!” he shouted, pointing a finger at [name].

seeing as he was bandaged up and unable to talk, [name] just went to flip him off before turning around and tending to usopp.

“where is nami-san?!” sanji cried out, rocking back and forth like a baby throwing a tantrum, “oh, i hope she is safe!”

as he was crying those mock tears, [name] stood up and went to throw out the old bandages. the movement made sanji look up from his wallowing and observe [name]’s form. he was moving well, all things considered, but he noticed that his actions were sluggish and lazy. as if he barely had enough energy to even be moving.

then sanji remembered everything up until this point. [name] was having really bad reactions prior to the god even showing up, overheating and sweating bullets. then he was attacked head on by the supposed god, making everything else that happened after become unknown.

using context clues, he could assume the condition [name] was in was also due to the god striking him. sanji grit his teeth, looking at the man’s bandaged body and recognizing the fact that the blame could be put onto him. he ran a hand through his blonde hair, looking aside as he mentally beat himself up.

[name] is so injured because of me, he thought to himself, and now nami-san is nowhere to be seen! i’ve failed as a crewmate and as a man! his thoughts were going rampant, ranting on and on about nami’s safety.

then he was knocked on the head by [name]’s knuckle. he was going to shout at him for being annoying, but when he looked up and noticed that every inch of [name]’s body was covered with bandages, he bit his tongue.

“we better wake up usopp,” sanji commanded, standing up and putting the cigarette back into his mouth, “we have to go and save nami-san,” then he shoved [name]’s shoulder with a glare, “you’re in no condition to do anything, though, so just stick behind with merry,”

[name] immediately refused, shoving sanji’s shoulder with an equal amount of force. sanji shook his head, “i won’t let you come, you’d only slow us down. be more considerate on this mission and stay back!”

if [name] could speak, he’d definitely curse sanji out, the blonde knew that. the glare he was sporting spoke for itself. but the chef really didn’t want [name] joining them.

they had to run across the island’s terrain, get to a high vantage point, somehow get on board of the massive flying ship that was above their heads and then probably fight the god that was behind this entire mess. [name] would only get hurt even more.

”you’ll just get even more hurt and slow us down,” sanji said, walking away and not leaving [name] anymore room to argue — as if the man could in the first place.

[name] felt furious at sanji for underestimating him so much. he already knew that there was no way that he was going to stay back while usopp and sanji got to face enel. over his dead body would he let those two go into such an intense fight alone.

but all he could do was simmer in his anger in silence, wincing as he crossed his arms over his chest in said anger.

“usopp, let’s go! we have nami-san to rescue!” sanji shouted, tugging usopp to the railing, “[name], don’t even think about-”

“too late,” usopp drawled out, seeing that the h/c haired man had already jumped off of the railing and onto the island before either of them could react.

“shit for brains, get back here!” sanji shouted, jumping ahead too and running to be side by side with [name], “go back to the ship, i won’t repeat myself!”

[name] flipped him off and continued running ahead.

“you’re only going to slow us down!” sanji argued, but his words were easily proven false as [name] was running the fastest among the three. usopp was running a couple of feet behind.

“sanji, are we seriously going up there?!” usopp cried out, legs wobbly as he tried catching up with the two.

“yeah, after i kick this asshole back to merry!”

[name] suddenly halted in his running, catching sanji in his arms and bracing for impact when usopp ran into his torso as well. with an iron strong grip, he had his arms wrapped around sanji and usopp’s waist and were carrying them at his waist height — as if they were rag dolls.

“put me down, shit for brains!”

“ah, how relaxing this is, to just rest in [name]’s arms like this~”

usopp and sanji had two very different reactions, obviously.

and [name] furrowed his brows in concentration, getting into position as if he were about to start running. but what shocked the two in his arms was that instead of him running, it appeared as if he was flying through the air.

they were still on the ground, the two confirmed that when they looked down and saw the grass so close to [name]’s feet. so he wasn’t actually flying, but the speed in which he was “running”, it was as if he was soaring through the air.

and before they knew it, they were standing on a rock that was a couple meters tall and gave them more leverage in reaching the gigantic ship that nami was apparently harbored on. after she was kidnapped by enel. all according to sanji’s theory.

[name] set usopp and sanji down, giving them a couple of seconds to get used to their lack of motion. using soru when it’s just your body in transport is fine, the body has been trained for it. but when you used soru with other in tow, it was hard to estimate how their bodies would react to the action.

sanji was reacting better than usopp, simply putting a hand on his chest to calm his heart and stabilize his breathing. the sniper, on the other hand, was off to the side puking his guts out.

[name] walked over when he was finished and roughly hit the belt that was around usopp’s waist. sanji perked up, seemingly ready to get their rescue mission into play, and joined [name]’s side. and speaking for him, he exclaimed, “usopp, get ready, we’re gonna use that stupid rope thing you have to get up there!”

“what?! why me?!” usopp cried out, not liking the way the two were ganging up on him. he couldn’t even rely on [name] to cower behind because the man himself looked rather unbothered by his fear.

“that rope of yours can reach up there! shoot it up and i’ll kick it in the direction of the ship to make sure it latches on! from there, we’ll climb it and save nami-san!”

usopp’s knees shook where he stood and he was about to beg [name] to let him not participate, but the male was still glaring at the belt around his waist with determination.

there was no way [name] would listen to his pleas now, usopp thought with a stream of tears going down his face.

“if this ends up ending terribly, i won’t be responsible!” is the last thing usopp shouts before releasing the hooked rope from his belt. it’s trajectory is set towards sanji, who kicks it at the last second to send it flying towards the ship.

when the hook at the end finally latched onto the ship, sanji and [name] threw themselves onto the rope while usopp just waited for it to take him off of the ground. now all that was left was to climb.

[name] grit his teeth at the immense pain he was going through. the closer they got to the deck of the massive ship flying through the sky, the more pain he was in. regardless of the fact, though, he continued on climbing and toughed out the pain.

when they finally were able to get onto some surface of rest, sanji was more amped up to save nami than he was before. he ran ahead, shouting about how they had to split up and use this time as resourcefully as they could. before he disappeared from their line of sight, though, he shouted once more, “and [name], don’t be a fucking idiot! it’s not just your life on the line, it’s usopp’s too!!”

“who said i can’t fend for myself?!” usopp cried out in offense, making [name] turn to him with an unimpressed look on his face.

obviously, [name] couldn’t verbalize anything so all he did was roughly tug usopp in a random direction and hope that that was the path that led them to enel. usopp continued crying out for him to stop, not wanting to actually fight the god, but he had no choice when it was [name] pulling him along.

[name] was bulldozing through wooden doors with not a care in the world, eager to find nami and get everyone to safety. he could see that with each door and wall that he smashed to pieces, she was getting closer. it only encouraged him to move faster.

usopp was tightly gripping his slingshot in anticipation, keen on how the farther they were traveling in on the ship, the louder the sounds of fighting were. nami was probably in a lot of trouble and that was what encouraged the sniper to move onward with [name] with some sense of courage.

but when the door [name] slammed open and revealed the actual god, usopp felt nothing but fear. he looked to [name] to gauge his reaction, but when he looked to where he was supposed to be standing, he was no longer there. and when usopp turned his head back into the direction of enel, he almost pissed himself when he saw the god was looking directly at him.

“special attack : exploding star!” he shouted with a mixture of courage and fear. when he opened his eyes, he saw that the god was glaring right back at him. where the hell did [name] go?! usopp screamed in his head, looking at the god and feeling himself tremble, “i-i’m sorry,”

the god didn’t look impressed.

”oi! nami, is sanji here yet?!”

“sanji? he’s here?!” nami exclaimed in shock. she was wondering if her eyes were deceiving her before or if it really was [name] that she saw standing beside usopp earlier. but, considering he was now missing, it must’ve been a trick of the light. that or she was going crazy.

“what do you mean he’s not here yet?! plus that asshole abandoned me! what are we going to do?!” usopp shouted in worry, running out of the way of one of enel’s attacks and tumbling towards nami.

“what do you mean?! you’re the one that’s supposed to be saving me?!”

“what?! no way, you save me!”

“screw that, save me!!”

the two bantered back and forth until enel shot another electric beam towards them. they dispersed and dodged the attack, crying to their heart’s content when they realized they were so close to getting hit.

“what the hell?! where’s [name] when you need him?!”

“savior [name]! save us!!!” usopp shouted, but when he saw zero movement from their surrounding area of the said man, he kicked his feet into the ground, “you asshole! how could you abandon us?!”

“you mean he was really here?!” nami shouted in confusion, “he’s in no condition to even be moving, what the hell were you guys thinking bringing him up here?!”

“he insisted, we can’t stop him! that’s like trying to stop a hungry luffy from eating all the food we have — it’s impossible! im-poss-ible!!” usopp drawled out, a shriek escaping his lips as he dodged another attack. “but that doesn’t matter, he’s left us here for some reason! so now, we have to be the ones to take care of this situation!”

nami grit her teeth, “he’s gonna die if he fights enel! i’m serious, usopp, where did he go?!”

“how the hell am i supposed to know?! i’m the one telling you he ran away!”

“that’s bullshit, [name] wouldn’t run away!” nami defended, looking around and clenching her fists in frustration, “[name]! come here right now, or else we’re leaving you here!”

“you have an escape plan?!” usopp asked with stars in his eyes, eager to get out of the immediate line of danger.

“the waver — if we time our jumping right, we could land in the cloud island below and be saved by the clouds! that’s our only shot of getting out of here alive!”

“roger, i’ll distract him and you make sure it’s ready!”

the two nodded in understanding, running in separate directions to get their plan in motion. usopp’s plan to distract god enel didn’t work that well considering he only just put a target on himself and made enel focus on him entirely.

usopp thought that he was going to be done for, kneeling before enel with a firghtened look on his face. the god didn’t even flinch as he charged up an attack that would surely knock him out.

just as the beam was going to be shot out straight onto usopp’s torso, there was a squelching sound that echoed through the ship. it was quieter than the electricity bumbling on the end of enel’s fingertips, but usopp had heard it.

and enel was the one that felt it.

he looked down and saw the tip of a dagger sticking through his abdomen. the electricity he had charged up immediately died down and he coughed out blood, nothing but surprise painting his features.

“and who do you think you’re going to attack, god?”

usopp almost cried out to rejoice if he wasn’t scared out of his mind. that was [name]’s voice, no doubt. but the image of him was truly terrifying.

his shadow almost seemed bigger than it usually was, the way he was intimidatingly hovering behind enel. he was carrying a large bag behind him, making his figure seem even larger. the bandages that were tightly wound around every crevice of his body were now painted more red than white. the ones that were around his face were ripped off, revealing portions of his features. but most importantly, his mouth was unrestricted and his smirking canines were on display for them to see.

[name] was standing behind enel, a dagger in his clenched fist and buried deep into enel’s lower stomach. with a scowl on his face, he twisted the dagger and pushed it in deeper into his flesh.

“hey, i’m asking you a question, it’d be polite of you to answer,” he taunted, his knee nudging the back of enel’s and forcing him to kneel, “huh, never thought a god would look so befitting in this position. it’s kind of fuelling my ego. having a big, mighty man such as yourself kneeling before me,”

enel grit his teeth, a million questions running through his mind. how did such a feeble weapon manage to pierce his skin? that wasn’t supposed to be possible. it should’ve went straight through.

“i’m your god, now, enel,” [name] grinned, pulling the dagger out with a satisfied look on his face with the way the blood splattered across the deck, “say your prayers and i might be merciful,”

—

[ .ᐟ ] mc getting saved by the power of medical knowlede iktr but also if u think about it, it's the mosy realistic thung that could've happened thats all im gonna say

—

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@skullr0se, @strawberrii-tea, @triangulartriangles, @anotherlovefool, @sinmp, @3v37773, @taru-nami, @disc0dild0s, @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @kaulitzer, @notplutos, @cheetosins @whotdefak @lcst-at-5ea @zforgottensniper @lunarapple @softi-911 @softhanyu

[ofourlee]

megumi x reader

you nudge megumi softly, your head nestled against his chest, the warmth of the blankets making the quiet night feel even cozier.

“i want ice cream,” you whisper, your voice barely louder than a breath.

megumi groans, not bothering to open his eyes. “baby, it’s 1 a.m. you don’t really want ice cream right now.”

megumi’s arm tightens around you, as if to convince you to stay put.

but you’re not so easily deterred.

you shift, sitting up just enough to give him that wide-eyed, innocent look you know he can’t resist.

“i do, though,” you say, a playful pout on your lips. “please, gumi?”

he cracks one eye open, staring at you with a mix of disbelief and amusement.

“first of all, it’s the middle of the night. second, you didn’t call me baby. third, we could literally just go tomorrow,” he mumbles, trying to close his eyes again, but you can see the grin starting to creep up.

you lean closer, resting your chin on his chest, your lips just inches from his.

“but it won’t taste as good tomorrow,” you tease, drawing out the words, “please, baby. i want ice cream now.” you bat your eyelashes dramatically, giving him that final, over-the-top pout

he sighs, dragging it out like he’s in real agony, before he finally opens both eyes. “you’re impossible,” he groans, tossing the blanket aside.

but before you can respond, he’s already reaching for his keys, muttering, “ice cream at 1 a.m. i can’t believe i’m doing this.”

you grin, unable to hide your excitement as you grab his hand, practically bouncing. “you love me,” you sing-song as you head out the door.

megumi chuckles, pulling you close as you step out into the cool night air. “yeah, yeah. lucky for you, i do.”

[ishzuprincess]

Kid shigaraki

[reallyromealone]

hello !! can i request dad hawks with toddler son that has a cat quirk and keeps trying to hunt him :•0 also i really like your fics !! i always get really excited when you post !! have a good day/night !!

Title: little hunter

Fandom: my hero Academia

Pairing: hawks + reader

Warnings: child reader, platonic, fluff, dad hawks

Notes:

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

He was small now, he could absolutely punt the little guy if need be.

Hawks watched as his son tried being sneaky, trying to hunt him as his tail swished.

This was a pivotal point in his development, Hawks remembered when he did similar things as his quirk and human aspects developed and evened out.

He knew he would mostly grow out of it but for now?

He has to keep his little one occupied.

Hawks used one of his tails to distract his son, letting him chase it around his office so that he would stop swatting his ankles and he could finish his work, his baby sure was a little genocidal maniac-- well the cat aspect was.

He wasn't allowed at the zoo for a while...

"Ow!" He looked down to see his son nibbling on his wing and sighed, lifting the boy up "hello, kitten" he said to the tot who chewed on his own hand and hawks took it out before popping a pacifier in his mouth "you hungry? You're more of an ankle biter than usual" he teased the babe who let him carry him around "how about we order some chicken? You want chicken my little hunter?" The boy began bouncing happily "iken!" He said excitedly and hawks grinned before having his assistant get some for them.

The two sat at the coffee table so (name) could stand and enjoy it while standing, a way he preferred eating and Hawks wasn't about to judge it as the boy ate his popcorn chicken with a lazy swish of his tail.

The hunter was satiated.

For now.

[dabisbratz]

𝒫𝒪𝑅𝒞𝐸𝐿𝒜𝐼𝒩 ; eren jeager x male reader

w.c: 2.3k

𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝒜𝐼𝒩𝒮: miscommunications, eren’s short temper, dumbification, asphyxiation two (2) uses of the f-slur (nonsexual), dirty-talk, exhibitionism + vouyerism, public masterbation, orgasm denial, spittin, one (1) use of the word ‘boypussy’, mean rennie

sonny says . . . rare short sonny post in da wild!?!? was missin nerd rennie n his jock boyfie ૮꒰ ྀི๑⃙⃘´༥`๑⃙⃘ ྀི ꒱ა thinkin about how long it takes for you t’realize y’like -like him . . .

Eren is. . . Weird.

That’s not an unknown fact, nor is it an uncommon conclusion. If anything, it’s a given. He smells strange, but not unpleasant, his voice goes nasally when he’s not making an effort to smoothen it out, his glasses are always smudged with fingerprints and a thin, barely noticeable layer of grease. He snorts when he laughs, too, in some sort of stereotypical way, and it’s almost endearing, but. . . That���s not why he’s weird.

It’s not his physical traits, no. Not the two moles decorating his neck, or the constant pink flush to his cheeks. Not his warm, brown hair that frames his soft cheeks. It’s not the acne at his forehead— you can tell he’s spent countless nights scrubbing away at it, picking apart his appearance— or the pudge to his body. Found on his cheeks, his arms, his stomach, his thighs— no, it absolutely isn’t anything physical.

Even as you look at him, your eyes trained on the movement of his pen as he writes something down— you’re not even sure what subject you’re supposed to be working on, anymore— you can’t place it. Ink travels along the sheet of paper, bleeding into it as his letters loop and his vowels curl. His lips are chapped, dusted a pretty shade of pink as his tongue swipes over the surface of his pillowy lips, they part as if to speak, and—

“What?” He asks, his voice only ever sounding soft now, for the first time since you’ve met him. He peers at you over the rim of his large, round glasses, his hazel eyes brightening beneath the fluorescent study-hall lights. Eren squints, like the opacity pains him, but his gaze never falters in kindliness. He’s. . . pretty.

Its certainly not the first time you’ve had that thought— he’s fucked you sideways, backwards, and maybe even upside down, so the thought crossed your mind amongst countless other opportunities, but this is different. It’s mundane. It’s. . . casual. Natural, like something fundamentally correct.

In a way that makes your heart want to wring itself dry.

Eren breathes through parted lips, a habit he’s working on, thick eyebrows furrowed as his gaze trickles toward your empty notebook. “What?” He repeats, this time much more nasally. The growing irritability in his voice proves palpable— but it’s not Eren if he’s not easily riled up. Still, his voice is like molasses, you want to cuddle up beneath it and taste it on your tongue. The sweetness, the bitterness. To feel it spread across your tastebuds, thick and syrupy. He’s just so.. handsome.

“What?” You clear your throat, it’s suddenly scratchy, all the words you want to say stuck in your esophagus as you cough into your elbow. They’re not thoughts you’re used to having— you’ve only ever had girlfriends.. You’re used to floral patterns and sweet scents. . . the stereotypical bubblegum pink and hair ties. The hands you’ve held have almost always been smaller than your own, softer, dantier…

“You’re.. You know, staring at me?” Polar opposite of the former, Eren’s hand swats the air as if gesturing to the general area. You instinctively want to roll your eyes, bratty in nature, just to earn the soft click of Eren’s tongue. Fuck.

“How did you know you were… you know.” Rushed, slipping over your own tongue, your teeth feel like jelly, softening in your own mouth. You suddenly feel small, backed up against a corner and trembling like a deer. Bambi’s got nothing on you, incomparable, you think, a cold tremor cascading past your ribs and down your spine. You’re not supposed to be the one feeling this way.

“You know?” He echoes. Pink, plush lips parting and curling around every letter, your heart flutters with warmth as they curl into scowl. You hate to admit it, but it’s your favorite expression from Eren. He’s always looked a bit boyish— like he carries some sort of sheepishness in him, even with his beginnings of facial hair, but there’s something more established about him when his eyes steel over and his lips press together. “What, gay?”

Lilliputian is the minute that goes by, and yet, it lasts forever. “Yeah,” A long beat of silence as your shoulders tense up to your ears, each flutter of your eyelash against your cheek, each intake of air through your nose.. “That.” Excruciatingly slow, almost.

He notes the way you say it. You know it, you can see the cogs of recognition twisting and turning in his head, you loathe it. You want to hold onto the softness of his face, rub patterns into his cheek and pull him forward, whimpering a soft, saccharine ‘Rennie’ in his ear and watch him crumble. Your fingers twitch, fumbling over themselves at the thought, and before you can lift your hand (just to snatch it away), Eren’s lips part once more.

“You mean a faggot,” He sneers, his pen completely discarded, rolling past the flat surface of the wooden table. Radiating from his skin is the warmth of new tension, he vibrates in his seat as if ready to lash out. . . Not at you, never at you. “That’s what you want to say, right?”

“Eren,” Mumbling, barely making it past your lips, you murmur through your teeth. You distract yourself with your hands, two fingers holding onto one as they twiddle and turn around themselves. Eren’s gaze trails downward, a long, prominent scowl on his lips as he leans back into his seat, thighs spread wide over the stretch of the desk chair. His head tilts back, chocolate brown hair brushing against his jaw as he stares at you through the bridge of his nose. His frame isn’t big, and yet, he looks so.. powerful.

“I didn’t— don’t mean it like that.”

“What the fuck else could you mean, then?” He growls, a mean lilt in his voice that nearly has you shrinking back. A warning, not a threat, as the chair creaks beneath his weight, his hands clasping together as he shifts to lean forward instead. Looking you dead on, even as you avert your gaze. A click of his tongue, you listen to his skin brush against his palms as he raises a hand to snap his fingers. Once, twice, thrice.. And suddenly your attention is back on him. “Only fags take it up the ass like you do, anyway.”

“Eren,” You breathe, a soft melody of a voice, eyebrows pinched as you silently plead. Not even entirely sure what you’re pleading for, it’s just that his tone of voice makes you want to repent. Warmth prickles in your skin, and some sick, divine intervention tunes in to remind you that you’ve never felt more empty without Eren inside you. “Come on, man. I didn’t mean it like that, I just..”

His pretty face twists as though he’d eaten something sour. ‘Man’ — you call him, not something more savory. Baby, sweetheart, sugar, sir, Rennie. . . The options are there, and he’s watching you wade through them. You know Eren likes you. He knows you do, in some unexplainable way— he just needs to hear it.

“Is that what I am to you, too?” He grunts, stubborn. He knows the answer, eyes softening as he watches a frown tug at the corners of your kissable lips.

“Rennie,” You coo, as if you’ve read his mind, and he’s never seen your face so… conflicted. “M’sorry.” It cracks his hardened exterior, anger and tension dissipating into the air as he lets out a groan of a breath.

You’ve never seen Eren angry. Maybe in a different context, toward something else, with the exception of the time he’d discovered football meant you were flexible and he hadn’t put it to use yet. But. . . only sexually charged. You’d imagine it starts slow, a slight simmer building in his veins, gathering in his fingers as he clenches his hands into fists. Then fast, and sudden, crystalline rolling down his cheeks in a thick flow of rivers before your very eyes. He probably cries when he’s genuinely angry, you conclude, watching his chest heave and tense as he steadies his raging breaths.

A new sense of shame raises the hairs on your neck— should you comfort him, or give him privacy? It's all so much, you’re left stunned as he stands, his chair scraping against the hardwood floor as he all but stomps over to grab your chin. Your hand instinctively reaches to cup his own, instead, being met with a firm, but painless, tap to your cheek that makes you straighten up, hands falling back to your lap.

“You’re so. . .” Voice rough and thick, Eren’s gaze follows the shape of your lips as he trails off. Past your cupid's bow, is the curve, following where they meet in a shaky line. You’re pulled into a kiss, his pink lips chapped and bitten, you taste a thin layer of blood and iron on his tongue. His hand moves from your chin to your throat, fingers tracing the skin until his palm presses below your adam’s apple, leaving you gasping as he steals every breath from your parted lips. “. . Dumb boys like you never know what they’re fuckin’ talking about half the time anyway.”

The dig doesn’t hurt, your brain barely catches it, with the lack of oxygen and the pout on your lips, all you can chase after is the urge to kiss him again. Again, again, again. You hear him suck his teeth, but it’s hazy when he speaks once more. “Oh, you liked that?”

“Rennie, I wan’ it—“ Leaves your lips, high and whiney, forlorn to even your own ears, a dull throb between your thighs. It’s so good, you didn’t get hard as quick before meeting Eren, but with his hand wrapped around your throat, you can already feel the ache in your balls, the twitch of your shaft, the milky, sticky precum spilling into your boxers. The brunette scoffs, and that only makes it worse.

“Yeah?” He murmurs, mostly to himself, an almost incredulous lilt to his voice as he straightens up, palming at the clear bulge imprinted in his stained sweatpants. “Since you want it so bad, touch it.”

With a breathy moan, your hands reach to grasp at the thick outline of Eren’s cock straining against his pants, pressing your palm against the warmth of his shaft. You feel it twitch and throb beneath your fingers, jumping in your hand as Eren sucks in a sharp breath. You missed this. He huffs above you, face flushed and glasses askew, but his gaze doesn’t leave your face once— glued to the way your lips part, how you mouth against the cotton of his sweats and leave behind a sloppy stain of drool. How you kiss the head, burying your face deeper and deeper into the fabric, breathing in the musk of his cock.

“M’sorry,” You breathe, handsome face squished against his thigh, and Eren can’t seem to stop himself from grabbing a fistful of your hair, pulling you off his cock with a resigned grunt.

“I knew I was gay,” Eren rasps, his other hand pulling at the elastic band of his sweatpants, diving past his boxers (with suspicious stains, might you add), and straight to gripping his cock, dribbling salty, sticky precum along his knuckles. “When I’d come home from school,” He sighs, eyes fluttering shut with a shaky gasp. “And watch porn, but—” You barely miss it, stuck in his hold as he keeps you still, the weight of his cock slapping against your cheek— and god, that’s all you’ve ever wanted. “I only focused on the men. Especially when they sounded like girls, whining and crying…”

It’s hard to listen to him ramble, when what you want is right in front of you. Your hips rock, pressing your needy cock just barely against the denim of your jeans— it’s not enough, you need more, you want to feel it, you want to take it— “Kinda like you,” He grunts out, nearly crumbling above you, your pretty lips ghosting over his cock as his fist grips the dip of his balls. Blinking up at him, your eyes remain glued to the veins littering his hand as he fucks his fist, nearly losing your composure. “How they gasp after bottoming out,” Lifting your hips up, brushing your clenched fists against your thighs, your eyes flutter shut as he moans, maneuvering your face into different angles— however he pleases. “When they accidentally shoot a load on their own face. Ha, kinda like you.”

You hiccup on your own desperate, breathy sobs, choking on your gasps— in and out, in and out, Eren’s cock squelches as he fucks his fist, gathering pre and smearing it against your cheek.

“And they always take it so good. Pretty, slutty little holes made for taking dick,” He strokes loud plaps of wetness out of the head, finally, finally, pressing it against the plush of your lips. Glazed over and sticky, a thin, sheen layer of pre paints your lips like the prettiest gloss, and your lips part, carrying a thin trail of saliva between them. “They look so stupid, too. Best part was—” Mumbling under his breath, the brunette gathers spit on his tongue. He's salty and bitter, spreading along your mouth, and you can't help but drool. His thighs tense, muscles flexing and rippling as his twitching hand finds the back of your head, and— oh. “I’d make sure they looked like you.”

He’s spitting in your mouth. “You should’ve known when I had your ankles above your head and fucked a load into that boypussy of yours.”

You’re close, you can feel it, a tingling warmth in your spine and your balls, your abdomen tightening and hands reaching down to rub it out, but— Eren swats your hand away, a scowl on his lips.

Repent, repent, repent.