#hot take I’m gonna throw into the wind here

[littleindulgences]

If he were in the business of being honest with himself, Simon would admit that he was actually kind of nervous. He turns the blank white envelope over and over in his hands, watching you from across the mess hall. You’re sitting with a squad of recruits today, getting to know them for reasons he can’t fathom. Your smile warms him all the way from here.

“Ye just got to do it, LT,” Soap remarks with his mouth full. “‘S the only way to put it to rest.” Simon just grunts. He’s still a little loath to admit that he has a crush on you��it’s childish, and embarrassing, and compromising…

But he can’t help it.

He watches you exit the mess, the recruits trailing after you like ducklings. The envelope twists in his hands.

“She’s got range duty for the next two hours,” John says with raised eyebrows as he takes a sip of his drink. Simon purses his lips under the mask. His team stares at him pointedly.

“Ah, fuck off,” he grumbles, rising from the bench and walking off. “Arseholes.”

“Good luck, LT!” Soap calls after him. Simon flips him the bird. The Scot’s cackle follows him out.

Ghost wanders into the barracks, taking a winding, looping route that doesn’t do anything but make his apprehension worse. He finally forces himself to take Johnny’s advice and just fucking do it, and he marches right up to your locked door and slips the envelope underneath.

There. Nothing more to do but wait.

What the fuck. What the fuck. The note lays flat on your cot, rather unassuming, except for the newspaper-cutout letters and the thick black marker scrawling out a time, a place, and “You’ll Be Mine” with a little heart underneath.

“Well that’s…terrifying,” says Alicia, your bunkmate.

“Mhm,” you say. You’ve been staring at it for five minutes.

You found the envelope on the floor when you came back from training. It was blank except for the puppy dog sticker on the back, clearly intended to mimic your callsign: Watchdog. You’d opened it without a thought and found this, a threat/ransom note of what you think was meant to be a valentine.

“You’re not gonna go, are you?” Alicia asks.

You suck in a breath through your teeth and make a noncommittal noise. Alicia throws her hands up.

“Babe. You will get snatched if you go.”

“Not necessarily! Besides, if I go, then I know who sent this to me and can like…confront them or something,” you defend.

“Or you could take this to Price and report it,” Alicia deadpans, ever the voice of reason. You wave her off. She rolls her eyes and stands, bumping your shoulder. “Whatever. I’m heading out, my girlfriend’s waiting for me. Please try not to get kidnapped?”

“I’ll do my best,” you reply and give her a peck on the cheek.

But there are no guarantees in your line of work, and this is no exception. You narrow your eyes at the note. Bring it on.

You came. Holy shit this is farther than Simon thought he’d get. His palms feel sweaty. Did it get hot out all of a sudden?

“Ghost, you gotta calm down, mate,” Gaz whispers, motioning at him to breathe.

“I’m fine,” Simon snaps. You’re right there, turning every so often, peering into the dark with that look of concentration he loves on you. He can imagine the way your nose wrinkles and the way your tongue pokes between your teeth.

Simon shakes himself. Get it together, soldier.

“Alright, it’s go time!” Johnny whispers, and nudges Simon out of the shadows. “Go get ‘er LT!”

Simon takes one last deep breath and starts across the field to you.

Whoever invited you here is fuckin’ late. You’ve always been of the mind that early is on time and on time is late, which is most people’s opinion here anyway. And the note said 2100 hours! It’s coming up on 2105 now.

The note didn’t even name a meeting place, either, just coordinates that led to the massive oak tree behind the shooting range. Which isn’t suspicious at all. You turn in a slow circle every so often—head on a swivel and all that. While you were all bravado with Alicia earlier, you were a little tiny bit worried that maybe something would happen. You made sure to bring your bear mace with you, in the end. Just in case.

You’re about to call it quits and head back when a huge meaty hand falls on your shoulder.

Before you can blink you’ve whipped around, depressing what has to be half the canister on your attacker. They crumple, and you take the chance to plant your hands on their shoulders and your knee in their balls, sending them into the dirt. You take off running. Your heart climbs into your throat. Holy shit, Alicia was right!

You’re so caught up in your escape that you don’t notice where you’re going until you run smack into a barrel chest. Strong hands catch your arms and hold you upright.

“Woah, woah, lass! What was that?” It’s Soap, and he’s staring at you with a mix of horror and confusion. You see Gaz sprint off in the corner of your eye.

You’re out of breath. “I-I got this weird-ass note earlier,” you try to explain, “and it said to come out here? But it didn’t say who it was from and ‘Licia was worried I’d get kidnapped, and then that creep showed up—”

“That’s not a creep, that’s fuckin’ Ghost!”

“Huh?” You twist, and sure enough, Gaz is helping Ghost’s hulking form off the ground, supporting him as he struggles against the effects of the mace. Fuck.

Gaz and Simon stagger over. “We need to get him to medical,” Gaz says. You bury your face in your hands.

You sit awkwardly on a stool next to Ghost’s cot as the nurses irrigate his face. Price, Gaz, and Soap hover in the corner, talking quietly amongst themselves and occasionally looking over at you. You’d shown them the note Ghost had apparently given you.

Eventually the nurses leave Ghost be for a minute, and that’s when Price jumps in.

“Okay,” he starts, then turns to you. “Watch, you aren’t being stalked. Ghost wanted to give you a valentine rather than actually talk to you, against our advice.” Then he turns to Ghost. “Simon. Why.”

Ghost shrugs and frowns down at his lap. “You all said that valentines are ‘sposed to be secret. I knew she’d recognize my handwriting, so I improvised.”

“And you didn’t think that maybe you could just type something up?” Gaz asks. Simon shrugs again, but you can tell he’s blushing under the mask.

“Soap said handmade ones are better,” he admits quietly. The group turns to Soap. He gapes.

“Oh, like this is my fault,” he grumbles.

“I’m sorry for startling you,” Simon says, addressing you directly for the first time. “I just wanted…” He trails off, glares down at his lap.

“I’m sorry for macing you,” you tell him. “And for kneeing you in the balls.” Price facepalms beside you and you scramble to think of something else. “I—I liked the dog sticker, though!”

“Yeah?” Simon glances up at you. You can tell he’s grinning, and you smile back.

“Yeah,” you say. “Put him in my notebook.” The both of you sit there, smiling at each other like idiots.

“All right, ye two, tone it down,” Johnny chimes in, and Gaz elbows him. Price rolls his eyes and herds them out. You watch them leave, then turn back to Ghost. He’s picking at his cuticles, a rare show of vulnerability.

“Simon?” you say before you can overthink it.

“Mm?” He looks up at you. A stray sunbeam touches his face, turning his puffy, red-rimmed eyes into melted chocolate. You feel yourself flush.

“Would you…maybe want to go to dinner sometime?” you ask. Simon straightens on the tiny cot, and yeah, he’s really smiling now. Your heart kicks up a few notches.

“I’d love to,” he says. “Please don’t bring the mace.”

[turtleblogatlast]

Leo: *keeps sacrificing himself and getting hurt*

His family: YOU'RE HURT!!!!!

Leo, seeing they're safe: Tis but a scratch! :)

(I cannot stop thinking of Leo brushing off his injuries like the black knight from Monty Python and the holy grail. He'd do anything for them and anything to assure them that all is fine even though that is not the case. He'll keep doing it, though. Mikey may be many doctors, but Leo is Dr. Hope.)

[ cw: injury mention / self sacrifice mention / ]

I keep missing asks I am so sorry 😭😭

YEAH I imagine Leo as like

The type who is super dramatic over the smallest of injuries, but if he’s actually hurt, it’s all “well what can you do lol” especially after the invasion because he’s already known much worse and barely even made a sound during that.

[joeyfranchise]

𝟙𝟚 𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕗𝕚𝕔-𝕞𝕒𝕤: 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖

can’t catch me, i’m the…

fiance!joe x reader

a fun lil bulleted list blurb about playing a lil football with your fiance joe. sfw, but minors please do not interact with my account.

joe brings you to athens for christmas and of COURSE insists at some point he needs to have a football in his hands

and you’re like . ?!?!? bro chill it’s HOLIDAY TIME

like you wanna bake cookies with his mom and spend time with family and watch christmas movies and wear matching pajamas and

joe’s like okay we cannn but do you wanna come “play” with me for like half an hour

he’s standing in his parents kitchen tossing the ball back and forth between hands and. he looks so

HOT

gray sweats, college hoodie.. are you drooling?

fuck you’re drooling. you’re-

it doesn’t help that he hasn’t shaved his face cuz FUCK does he look good

“baby?” he asks, that playful lilt to his tone and smirk on his face tells you he KNOWS he’s won this one

fucker

but you’re like. okay let me ATTEMPT to be nonchalant. right?? cuz you really lost sO EASILY

“okay, fine. half an hour.” you tell him matter-of-factly

he’s still smirking. smug ass

you also JUST MADE COFFEE THAT YOU WANT TO DRINK. and here’s his beautiful ass wanting something knowing DAMN WELL

that you’ll do anything for him (HAHAHA WHIPPPPED)

and like you’re just in leggings and a hoodie and a beanie. and it’s COLD but

you guys go out to the backyard and then you realize like. THIS NFL QUARTERBACK IS ABOUT TO THROW YOU A FOOTBALL?

“um, joe? i’m not padded?”

“no yeah but it’s fine” — WHAT DOES HE MEAN..

like are you even coordinated enough to catch a ball from anyone, much less JOE BURROW?

he’s like baby. bubs. it’s fineeee i’ll go easy

YEAH UH-HUH OKAY

surprisingly he does

and you catch the first few and throw them back and he’s sO proud of you!!

but then

suddenly

it’s “oh, let’s run routes”

“hell nah. i’m not ja’marr or tee or anyone else. do that shit when your brothers get here.”

and he’s pouting. with his pitiful bottom lip sticking out

he’s not gonna make you feel bad is he? IS HE????

and now here he comes. strolling through the backyard and to you. and oH

his arms are around you. he’s hugging you. fuck he smells good

and now you’re kissing and

“pleeeeasseeee?”

THIS FUCKER— “fine. a FEW.”

it’s more than a few, but he’s singing your praises even though you have NO CLUE what the hell you’re doing

“no babe really you’re doing so well, yeah just like that”

WHY IS HE RILING YOU UP LIKE THIS!???? what the hell joseph

you catch a few more for him and then you’re like bro. i’m getting windED LET ME BREATHE.

he’s just smiling and happy-go-lucky

meanwhile you’re doubled over hands on your knees and PANTING

after a few minutes you’re like okay joey can we be done now? cAN WE

and he’s like one more *pouty face*

okay. fine. one more

so he throws it to you. perfect spiral. a dime. here it comes. and as it lands in your hands, you see him

RUNNING AT YOU FULL SPEED

JOEY WHEELS??

oh fUCK

so. you do what any idiot in the christmas spirit with a hot football player boyfriend does. you yell

“CAN’T CATCH ME, I’M THE GINGERBREAD MAN!”

now you’re running. full speed. as far as your lil legs will take you

(not far)

LITERALLY HE’S CHASING YOU AROUND IN A CIRCLE

joey’s on your heels and suddenly you’re in thE AIR

HE GOT YOU

and he’s spinning you around and

it’s kinda romantic. even though it’s colder than FUCK OUTSIDE

he lets you down and you pull him in for a sweet kiss and

hell yeah. he’s so hot his stubble is scratching at your face and

CONTROL YOURSELF THIS IS HIS PARENTS’ BACKYARD

oh a car is pulling in. okay separate HORNDOGS

he takes your hand and is admiring the sparkly diamond ring he gave you recently

beautiful oval shaped diamond that you LOVE SO MUCH. and you love HIM so much

he’s looking at you with bedroom eyes. JOE CHILL

the idea of you being his fiancée gets him HOT AND BOTHERED

BUT it’s one of his brothers and their family exiting the car, gotta go greet everyone. which you are excited about

but joe stops you and says

“next i’m gonna teach you how to run a slant, then an out route, and then a post, and then-“

you interrupt him like - baby. please

“wait. i DO want you to teach me what the hell dice right f fly whiskey brady is. and also the one where you said alert booty”

he smiles. shit eating grin. because FUCK, YOU JUST AGREED TO DO THIS AGAIN??

none of the photos or dividers used are mine. all cred to owners.

taglist: @slimshiesty @starsinthesky5 @kykysinlovewithafairytale @burrowdarling @bengals-barnesbabe @joeyb1989 @loveyatopluto @toterry @unhingedfangirl @superheroprincess22 @burreauxsworld @definitelynotdomanique @samanthamark5 @superstarshitblog @fa1ry03 @wickedfun9 @xbriexx @venic-bxtch @burrowdarling @angels555 @idbe-theman @yelenasbraid @ladyluvduv @joeburrowshaircurl @joeybisbootiful @livinobx @blairsworld22 @jarring-behavior @joeyburrrow @yomamaslays4lyfe

[stunie]

SCARY BOYFRIEND EX PRIVILEGES! ❤︎ — Endo Yamato x f!reader ﾉ Sfw ﾉ Cw harassment (not from Endo) ﾉ My response to:

ANON’S ASK — Random thought but what the wind breaker boys protect you in spite of being your ex. Whether it was a mutual, [etc], uncertain, or bittersweet break up is up to you.

Other warnings: one mention of reader typically wearing makeup

As weird as it sounds, you’re not entirely sure if you and Endo have ever officially broken up. Dating through high school was one thing, but keeping the relationship strong after attending different universities was another.

At the very least, you’re 90% sure the relationship died, although you don’t remember exactly when the two of you stopped talking. After you switched your phone number following your first semester at university, you hadn’t even bothered to tell him. You don’t remember why you didn’t bother to either.

Everything is weird now.

Life has been entirely different without him. There’s one less free pocket in your bag now that you’ve started carrying pepper spray with you. You wear your headphones in one ear at a time, and your volume isn’t on full blast anymore.

You actually look where you’re going, and you pay attention to the time— take a mental note that it starts getting dark earlier at this point in the year.

Even with the precautions you’ve learned during your time at university, this type of thing would always be out of your control. How in the world did you get singled out wearing your pajamas and no makeup?

Life wasn’t being fair to you.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing here all alone?”

“Midterms.” You narrow your eyes to the best of your ability, balling your hands into little fists to mask how they’ve started to tremble. “I’m meeting up with some friends now.”

You used to be able to just say “I have a boyfriend.”

You also used to be walked home, so this wouldn’t have happened in the first place. You’re sure that if Endo saw the way you are now, he’d be making a comment by now. Something along the lines of “gonna hurt your hands if you throw a punch with your fists like that, sweet thing.”

Nothing is fair. Why is it now that you start missing him for the first time in years? The feeling comes a little too easily for a relationship that faded into nothing, but you’re too scared to kick yourself in the shin right now.

“That so?” The man in front of you laughs when your fight or flight finally starts to kick in. You take a couple of steps backward, and your frame is suddenly a lot smaller compared to his. How easy. “Where are these friends of yours? Can’t believe you’re out here all by yourself..”

“T-they have my location, y’know.”

There’s the stutter that always gives you away.

He laughs at this, and you can feel yourself breaking into a cold sweat. Keep your words steady. Ignore the way your heart rate is spiking. Do absolutely anything to avoid letting him know that you’re scared out of your mind.

It doesn’t work at all. “They won’t know if you don’t have your phone on you, will they?”

All the words you know seem to slip out of your brain, and your face feels painfully hot. “U-um…”

“You’re exactly my type. It’s a compliment… I’m being nice, so just come with me. You won’t regret it— I’ll make it worth your time.”

It doesn’t like sound an offer, and it doesn’t sound like a suggestion either. Your body freezes against your will, and he catches onto this pretty fast. The pepper spray in your bag seems too far away for you to even consider, and you’ve never felt so helpless in your life.

“Yeah? That sound good?” He moves to close the distance between the two of you with a grin, reaching out to grab your wrist. Your eyes slam shut, lips trembling even when you try to say something to protest. “Damn… you’re so docile for such a pretty girl. Usually, they’d be a bitch, but you—”

“How mean.” Your eyes shoot open when you’re suddenly tugged backward, gasping when your back roughly collides with someone’s chest. “I was waiting all alone. What’s my girl doing over here with you?”

The tattooed arms that drape themselves over your shoulders don’t look familiar at first glance, but the muscles and his scent are. Painfully familiar, as a matter of fact. They’re the same arms you used to cling onto- and you always used to wrap your fingers around his bicep and rest your head on his shoulder.

He loved that.

It all registers in your head as soon as he puts his weight on you, head right beside yours and you feel his hair tickle your neck. He gives the man in front of you an unamused look before turning to you.

“M-me?” You want to dig a hole and stay there for eternity after hearing just how shaky your voice comes out. Endo’s so close that you could simply turn your head to the side and you’d be kissing him.

He laughs, and you feel your face heat up again. Only this time, there’s a gentle fluttering of your heart that comes with it instead. “Yeah, you. What? Did you think I was talking to the loser? I wouldn’t dream of it.”

The way you move to latch onto his arm in an instant is all he needs to confirm that your feelings haven’t changed. The man in front of you doesn’t speak— he can’t seem to move either. Your boyfriend has made quite the name for himself, but you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?

To you, he’s your bodyguard— and more, of course, but maybe you’d be honest and tell him about that another time. But to that guy, he’s pure danger. The way Endo looks over his shoulder to give him one last glance is already enough to have his knees buckling.

[miupow]

For the new kinktober event, what about hueningkai+daddykink especially with a smaller big chested girl

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 ‘24 : 𝐇𝐔𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐊𝐀𝐈 + 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊

𝜗𝜚 ㅤ― 󠀬󠀬[ minors do not interact! ] huening kai x fem!reader , soft dom!kai , kind of dubcon but not really , daddy kink , size kink , petite reader , breast play , praise kink , pet names , dirty talk , unprotected sex , creampie mention , cum marking

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“d-daddy, daddy, you g-gotta slow down—!” you hiccup, voice stuttering with every quick thrust of kai’s hips. your leg is thrown over his shoulder, nearly folding you in half as he presses you against the bed. his plushies protect your head from hitting the headboard, their cuteness and innocence perverted when surrounded by your ruined face. eyes rolled back in your head, face screwed up in erotic pleasure; he fucks you dumb on his cock, your greedy, wet pussy squelching obscenely around him as you struggle to adjust to the stretch. the pleasure is overwhelming, his cock so deep inside of you it’s dizzying, as if he’s pushed past your cervix and was fucking your womb. his heavy balls clap loudly against your ass as his thrusts pick up speed,

“sh-shhh princess, it’s okay, daddy’s here, you can take it,” hyuka coos in a broken voice, drunk on the way your walls squeeze around him. he’s dead to your pleas, chasing after his own pleasure and release like an animal. his gropes your tits, his hands so big that your perky fat breasts are completely engulfed by his fingers.

the knot in your belly feels different, hotter than ever before, reaching a fever pitch you never thought possible. you wrap your shaking legs around him the best you can, grasp onto the arms that fondled your bouncing tits.

“daddy!” you sob, pawing desperately at his broad chest. “i’m gonna cum, you’re gonna make me c-cum—!”

“fuck.” kai grunts, sweat dripping from his perfect roman nose. “you gotta ask for it, remember pumpkin? be a good girl and say please.”

“oh my god, please!” you wail, “please let me cum, daddy, please! i wanna cum with you!”

“good girl, that’s my good girl, make a mess all over my cock— i want to cum inside of you so fucking bad,” hyuka whimpers, throwing his head back.

“no, daddy you can’t, you’re not wearing a condom—!”

and you’re not on the pill either. but the risk gives him a rush, makes him ache to pump a load deep inside your pussy. his thrusts grow erratic, a clear sign that he’s about to cum.

“daddy, pull out!”

kai does it just in time, thick hot ropes of cum spraying across your thighs and tummy. his thick veiny shaft slides against your engorged clit, just the stimulation needed to cum yourself. you squirt all over kai’s belly and pelvis, the force of your orgasm so strong it knocks the wind out of you.

“… oh my god, did you just squirt?” hyuka crows, eyes sparkling at the way your spent pussy throbs from the aftershocks. “i made you do that? that’s so fucking hot, can you do it again?”

[gripefroot]

Taken in the Night

You wake with a gasp, muffled by the hand covering your mouth. A hard body presses against yours from behind, the bedroom dark enough to indicate it can’t be long past midnight. Then, warm breath on your neck, a whisper:

“Don’t make a sound.”

In an upper bedroom of the baker’s house in town, your winter abode, the danger of the baker finding Law in your bedroom and then throwing him out in a fury was more than a distant fear. Across the house, something creaks. All you hear is your breathing, Law’s, and the frantic thudding of your heart. The baker is a man to throw out not only Law for uninvited entry, but you, too, for disregarding the baker’s fastidious rules about guests. 

Law, knowing little of all this, groans softly in your ear. 

“I missed you bad.” 

Your fingers grip his hand, pulling it away from your mouth. “You couldn’t have sent a note?” you hiss. “Don’t wake me up like that again!” 

“Okay.” Amenable of him, wasn’t it? Or he was distracted, with his arm tight around your middle, fingers groping. Then you feel his lips on your hairline, hot and insistent. A responding moan rises in your throat, but you swallow it. The baker, the baker…

“We can’t do that here,” you whisper. “They’ll hear for sure.”

Another creak. A cough. Above the roof, a whine of winter wind. The clouds yesterday promised a storm. It must have started, the early cries of a worse tantrum to come. 

“Come with me?” Law asks in a ragged voice. 

Even if you want to be annoyed with him, it’s impossible. It’s impossible with the heat he presses into you, the hard angles of his body encompassing yours. Something about your racing heart and how hungry he sounds could get you to agree to anything. 

“We can’t take the stairs,” you murmur.

“Won’t have to. Hold on tight.” He squeezes tighter. You grip his arm, fingernails digging into bare skin - hadn’t he worn a coat? - for the split second before the world tilts and shifts and bursts around you. 

“Ouch!” 

The landing was hard, a slab of metal with all your weight and Law’s weight sending you straight to bruises. When you try to sit up, your head hits something equally hard, but this time, it’s his head. 

“Ouch!” you cry again. 

“Sorry, sorry!” Unusual repentance for him. “I thought the pillows were on the bed but they must have fallen to the floor. It’s storming outside.”

Orientation came in stages. The storm - wherever Law has whisked you off to is shaking side to side, slowly, in great swells that make your stomach churn uncomfortably. Your eyes adjust to the milky blue lights glowing from various points of the room. A bedroom. A bedroom with a small bed with blue covers (or they were simply blue in the light) and a desk and cupboards and shelves. The books and knickknacks on the shelves must be secured in place, to not be falling off with each rise and fall of the room. Law sits back on his haunches, strangely abashed as he watches your face. The blue light makes his eyes as velvety black as a summer night, and just as warm. Abashed? Now why would he be…

“This is your ship,” you say faintly. The throb from where his head bashed into yours heightens in intensity. “You brought me to your ship.”

“Sorry.” There, that’s more normal. He’s not sorry at all. That devilish smile transforms his face. “I’ve heard stories about your landlord. And I’m not gonna give you up. Even if it’s just for a night.”

Just for a night? 

Law plucks off his hat, running his opposite hand through his inky hair, making it stand on end. “We’re only passing through,” he says. “My crew wanted to go deeper to avoid the storm to make it to our next port by morning, but…”

There’s a wealth of sentiment in what he doesn’t say. The room rises and falls twice more before you give in and have mercy on the man, smiling as you get onto your knees. It’s more stable - somewhat. The familiar twist of sadness and joy winds around your sternum, again and again, making your insides a proper candy cane of contrasts. Everything about Law was so good and so wretched, all at once. It was horrible. And wonderful. 

“Well, it’s only fair,” you purr, scooting closer. Law doesn’t move, his eyes hooded as his eyes rivet on your face. Then, your mouth. “You know my bed. It’s time I acquaint myself with yours.”

His throat bobs. You lean in. “Only fair,” he repeats in a croak. “But - most of the crew is sleeping. There’s two on watch. You’ll have to be quiet.” 

“The crash of our entrance is okay but a few little moans aren’t?” The question is a whisper, breathed against his skin. He’s near enough to kiss, but why ruin perfectly good foreplay? One side of his mouth lifts. 

“Crashes are normal,” he murmurs, reaching up to touch the ends of your hair. “Moaning is not, I’m afraid.” 

“What a sad life your crew must live.” 

“If I’m doomed to sleep alone, they oughtta, too.”

“So. You’re a tyrant as well as a thief, a tease, and a bully.” All three things which you’ve called him before. He remembers, too, because he snorts true amusement despite the sardonic gleam of his eyes. The blue light is enough. Enough to treasure every feature of his face, but not too much to ruin the hazy dreaminess soaking around in a mysterious place in a storm. 

“Don’t see you complaining,” Law says. The tip of his tongue darts out to wet his lips. Thinking you’re about to kiss him, most likely. He’s eager. He’s eager and he’s charming and he’s Law, which is the best part of all. 

“Do you think of me while you’re here?” you ask softly. 

“Yes,” he says at once.

“What do you think of me doing?” It’s bait. He knows it, too, because he snorts again. Undeterred, you suggest, “Reading some of those books, perhaps? Writing letters at the desk? Folding blankets?” 

“Definitely,” Law plays along in his characteristically dry tone. “In fact, my favorite way to think of you is sweeping the floors.”

“Sweeping! Where’s the broom, then? We can play into this little fantasy of yours.” 

“Later.” He seizes your wrist when you make you stand, keeping you in place. “Why not a different fantasy first?” 

“Oh?” It’s impossible not to smile. It’s impossible to keep the joke going, too, because if it’s only going to be one night, the desire to spend it teasing each other pales in appeal. Law must sense this, because he lowers his head, stealing a kiss that makes your heart pound and your skin to go tingly from head to toe. 

His thumb strokes the inside of your wrist when he pulls away. A good kiss, but not enough. Never enough. Rising on your knees, you shake his hand off to wrap your arms around his neck, dislodging his hat once and for all. 

There. That’s better. A longer, deeper kiss; the rasp of his facial hair on your sensitive skin while his hands roam up and down the shape of your curves before resting on your hips. And every second your body moves, moves with the waves of the sea and the desire Law so skillfully conjures. Life is so still when he’s not around - expectant patterns that repeat every day. And then he shows up and whisks you away in the middle of the night because he wants you, because he wants to see you.

But not because he loves you. He’ll never say it. Maybe he doesn’t need to. That old conversation rankles, from time to time, but only when he isn’t there. And right now, he is. 

Your hands slide beneath his shirt, taking advantage of perpetually-undone buttons to slide the entire garment right off his shoulders. His skin is smooth, rippling from muscles as delicious to feel as they are to see. The hardness of the metal floor sends aches through your knees when he drags you closer, by the hips, until every heave of breath touches your chest to his, his eager mouth plundering where you’d meant to do the plundering. Lungs tight, you break away for air. Law does hesitate: his whiskered chin scrapes against your neck while his lips and tongue do wonders on your neck. 

“Oh, Law,” you say, half-piteously. “Why can’t it be longer than one night?”

He doesn’t answer. Why would he? You know, and he knows you know. His response is to grip you by the backside, standing steadily despite the gale outside and all around, to tip you onto the bed. 

His eyes are the dark depths of a sea, black and beckoning. He doesn’t look away while he undoes his belt and pants button. Gnawing on your lips, your legs squeeze together, as if that’ll help. 

“Kinda like your nightgown,” he drawls. 

“Oh,” you say again, with just as much self-pity. “If I’d known you were coming, I’d have worn something different.” It’s an old wool thing, meant for warmth during the winter more than seducing handsome ship captains coming to claim their woman. Consciously, you put a hand to the ratty ribbon around the collar, mercilessly cut in several places from tickly threads over the years.  

“I ain’t lying,” Law says. “I mean it.” 

“I don’t believe that for a second,” you say crossly. 

A mischievous light catches in his eyes. Oh, no. Whatever brilliant inspiration he just had, probably won’t end well for you. 

“I’ll just have to prove it to you, then,” he says. Pants shaken off, he crawls onto the bed stark-naked. Apprehension about his intention makes it less of a thrill than usual. “Oh, c’mon,” Law says with a hint of exasperation. “Stop looking at me like I’m some kinda creep.” A laugh huffs out of him as he shakes his head. That reaction makes you more mulish. 

“Only a creep would be turned on by this rag,” you say. 

“Ever considered that I’m turned on by you, not by what you wear?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Do,” he says. “Until then - ”

He ropes his arm around your back, dragging you across the bed and over his body. Your leg swings over his hips in an attempt to stay balanced, which mostly, you think, gets him what he wants. He settles in against the mattress, shining with lazy triumph. Your breasts are pushed against his chest until his arm loosens enough to allow you to rise. He’s successfully perched you right on his groin, skirt of the nightdress flowing around like a shroud of modesty. 

“Trafalgar Law,” you say severely, though the irresistible urge to laugh bubbles incessantly in your throat. 

“Present,” he says, lacing fingers behind his head. He gazes up at you, like a child would the night sky. When the fondness in your chest makes it hard to speak, he tacks on, “Leave the nightgown on. I want you to think of me whenever you wear it from now on.” 

He’s too much. Too cocky, too sweet, too honest. It hurts. 

His smile doesn’t fade when you lean over him again, this time kissing him with all those feelings wanting to get out. Law isn’t one for feelings, and frankly, you aren’t either. Not when the recipient can use them to hurt you. And Law could hurt you like no one else, because he’s like no one else. Would he? Would he be so cruel? Perhaps not - but he also never stays, so he is cruel, even if he doesn’t mean to be. 

He accepts the tender pace. His hands are all over the nightgown, plucking at the fabric with theatrical, appreciative groans. 

“The hem,” you pant. “You can grope me from the inside.”

Evidently, Law can’t take the joke much further, because he takes your advice and slides his hands inside the nightgown. His hands go up your bare legs, down your back, making paths from limb to limb. Without warning, his hips bucks and his teeth bite down on your bottom lip. 

“Ouch!” Hopefully, cries of pain are also normal on the ship. You sit back, rubbing your mouth with a scowl. 

“Sorry. It was the storm.” His hands stop on your hips, hindered by underwear. His eyes are shadowed, squinting slightly. “Will you believe that it’s the storm if I rip these off?”

“No,” you laugh. “But go ahead. They’re old, too.” 

Underwear discarded in three pieces (ripping one seam would make a tidier job, but this is Law), there’s nothing left between skin. His lips are parted, breathing steadily between them, though his expression is anything but steady. Tipping your hips forward, the sensation of his erection rubs against you. 

The kissing made you sensitive. The slippery sensation brings out a tiny moan, not too loud, and Law’s response is much louder. 

“I only tease you because it makes you wet,” he says, his voice low and rough enough to be a growl. 

“You make me wet,” you tell him, sliding over his cock again. “Not the teasing. Like you said about my nightgown.” 

His crooked half-smile promises more teasing, so you bend over to kiss him to keep him quiet. It works - partially. No teasing, but his responsive noises to each little motion are enough to turn your veins to fire. 

Time stops. Each swell of stormy wave feels longer than a passing moment, each whoosh of desire flooding your body saunters instead of shoots. Law’s fingers make paths in your bare skin, one inch at a time, as if he, too, feels the yawning stretch at the cusp and refuses to rush it. 

Why does it have to be only one night? 

Better one night than no night. 

The ship rises and falls. When waiting feels like a shackle instead of a long-lasting sunset, you reach between your bodies to slide him inside. The waves help with that, rocking up and down and up and down. Law’s eyes are almost inscrutable, hiding what he doesn’t want to say or share behind those walls he puts up. Silly man. He’s let you in too far already; almost as long as you’ve known him - hiding can’t erase that. 

“You’re so good,” he says. “You’re my good girl.” 

A shiver spreads from your neck downward, the tips of his fingers brushing gently against your throat. Eyes close. Your hips go forward and back, fighting against and moving with the storm while pleasure swells thunder. Moans vibrate your throat, but go no further. Finally, with a gasp, your eyes flutter open, though you don’t stop riding him. 

So, this is what he looks like in his own bed. The blue softens his face, the swallowing blankets and pillows make him less the tattooed vagrant and more…well, more an ordinary man. The kind that could stay, if he wanted, not the phantom who comes and leaves like a storm. Gold earrings wink reflections of blue. And his expression…it must be nice for him, you muse, putting in the lesser amount of work. But it’s nice for you, too, to watch him experience it with such a lovely view. 

“That’s it,” he mumbles, a little like thunder himself. “Tell me how much you like it.”

“Why don’t you?” you say. “You’re the one being lazy.”

Law peeks open an eye, but he only grins. “I like it alot,” he says. “And I like that you’re sassing me.”

“I can tell.” With a smile, you slow your pace, taking your sweet time to take him deeply. A short grunt from him betrays how much he likes it. His eyes glaze over. His fingers dig into your hips, trying to move you more. 

“I want you to come.” The words rasp out of him. “Then I wanna switch.” To prove his statement, he thrusts upward, slow but delicious as stars burst behind your eyelids. A gasp parts your lips. 

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s okay. Keep going. Do what feels good.” 

It must be near dawn by the time the bedroom is as quiet as Law threatened it had to be. Cuddled up in the blankets (the nightgown was discarded long ago), you breathe deeply the scent of his bed. Of him. Because he only came for one night. And now that night is ending, the prickling pain deepens. 

“Hey.” Law pulls your shoulder back, leaving a kiss on your bare skin. “Are you falling asleep?”

“No.” 

“I think I did.”

Bemused, you twist your head back, smiling at the glaring evidence: one of his cheeks is visibly red, even in the blue light, and a wrinkle from the sheets stretches from his jaw to his forehead. 

“Cute.” You reach up to pat his cheek. “You did enough work to earn a nap.” 

“I wanted to keep going,” Law says. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Because if you’d had to go from lovemaking straight back to your tiny room in the baker’s house with your heart still racing and your skin still tacky from sweat, Law’s departure would have felt a thousand times more raw. Idly, you stroke his facial hair, then jingle his earrings together. His eyes crinkle with a smile, sweeter than you’re used to, but it’s still very him. 

“You’re gonna be tired all day,” he prophesies. 

“I don’t care,” you say. “I work less in the winter. I’ll take my nap later.” 

Later, when he isn’t there and you won’t lose your last moments with him. You don’t say it, but he must guess, because those dark eyes soften. 

“But you got your nap, so you’ll be fine,” you tease, rolling onto your back. Law hovers over you, grinning all the while like a satisfied cat. The storm had stopped - when? The rocking of the ship had noticeably slackened before Law had collapsed on the bed (and evidently fallen asleep) but it must have ceased completely while you were lost in dreary thoughts. Missing him before he left. 

Perhaps he reads some of that misery in your face, because his brows crinkle and he says, “Sorry I have to go.”

“You’re so full of sorrys today,” you say, put-out that you hadn’t concealed the truth of your feelings and he’d latched onto them. 

“Strange.” He picks up one of your hands, kissing each knuckle tenderly. What he is hiding, you can’t tell, because his eyes are lowered, hidden behind lashes and lids. “You know what?” he says suddenly. “I’ll buy you a new nightgown one of these days.”

“I thought you liked this one.”

“I do. But you don’t. And I want you to like it.” 

How could he say such sweet things and then leave? It’s the one part of him that you can’t understand. He goes out of his way to see you but still happily departs with the dawn? What logic was he clinging to? 

“Want me to take you back naked?” Law’s eyes shine at the prospect. “Bet your baker is awake and won’t notice all the noises we make.” 

Pursing your lips together, you seize a pillow to whack him in the face. He startles, then laughs. And laughs and laughs, when the pillow turns into a ball of dust. Your fingers close on nothing, the dust ball lost somewhere in the sheets when he tackles you. 

“Where did the pillow go!” you ask indignantly. 

“Don’t worry about it!”

But you don’t have the heart to exacerbate the joke, giving him the upper hand. The sun might be rising, but this night had more light in it than any day for a long, long time. 

If he has to leave, at least he leaves laughing.

[glossykissies]

maybe reader complaining about soldier boy smoking so he ties her up w a vibrator to her clit and smokes in front of her… 🤭 he’s so mean (we love it)

there wasn’t many things you hated, especially not when it came to soldier boy. you liked the things most people didn’t like about him — the fact he was ruthless, the fact he could be cold toward others, brutal. his character itself was perfect, and the more he was around you the happier you were.

what you couldn’t stand, was the smoking.

you get it, he comes from a different time before all the anti-smoking propaganda. he was mostly indestructible, so the health thing wasn’t exactly a concern— but he was getting too comfortable. smoking in your apartment, stinking up your pretty little living space — and that, you couldn’t do.

you come home from the bakery, baguette beneath your arm and a couple of moorish pastries bagged up in each fist ready to put away until you needed the snack — and there’s ben, staring pensively over the city, staring out your window, smoking.

“ben.” you pout, stopping your movements in putting away your purchases to lightly stomp your foot. “i told you.”

“told me what.” he hums, barely listening as he was clearly in deep thought. you huff, you hate when he got into these grumpy moods.

“you can’t just smoke in my apartment! atleast open a window.” you stomp over to the window beside him, pushing it open and staring at him pointedly. what you wanted to him to do, was chuck it out. but instead, he simply stares at you — taking a long drag. you purse your lips angrily, trying to think of another argument to make him speak atleast. “you know that’s bad for you.” you point your chin up, matter of factly. he reacts now, turning a little more toward you with a chuckle.

“for me? you do know i’m…” he taps a heavy fist over his lungs. “pretty indestructible, sweetheart.”

“okay, well have you considered that it’s bad for me? not everyone is a supe, you know.” you’re getting more and more hot and bothered by the fact he just won’t listen. he watches you before rolling his eyes up at the ceiling.

“you don’t seriously believe all that second-hand-smoke bullcrap, do you? god damn, what in the fuck are they teaching kids in school these days? school wasn’t that long ago for you now, was it?” his irritation turns to amusement as he smirks down at you cruelly, addressing the age gap between the two of you meanly.

“you’re being unfair.” you step closer, and he smiles, taking a drag before blowing a cloud of cigar smoke in your face.

“and what the hell are you gonna do about it, babyface?”

naturally, you throw a tantrum — and wind up right where you thought you might, on your bed with your legs spread. but your man isn’t between them, no. he’s pulling up a chair with a new cigar between his lips, having just finished tying you open on the bed, vibrator pressed firmly to your aching clit.

“now i’m not a bad guy, sweetheart.” he begins, voice rumbling deep making you clench around nothing. “am i? didn’t gag you, not yet anyway so you can fuckin’ respond when i speak.” he prompts, nodding to you before taking another long drag. the room is cloudy now, but not as cloudy as your brain.

“n—nuh—no!” you whine pathetically.

“too right. no. done a lot of bad things, sure. fucked up a loooot of people. but i’m not bad. not to you.” he pauses thoughtfully. another drag. you’re raw and aching and you just wanna cum but it’s just not enough. “so i think it’s fair… that i get to do whatever the fuck i want around here, and as long as i’m treating you like a pretty princess — you can’t tell me shit. does that sound fair to you?” he tilts his head, raising his eyebrows and you mewl. you want to say no. you don’t agree. but fuck, you loved him.

“yes!” you squeak.

“yes who?”

“yes sir.”

with that, he smiles slowly, reaching over and stubbing the cigar out on the ashtray he’d placed on your pretty pink dresser. standing, you finally see the length of him tenting his pants and you suddenly start feeling like maybe the little vibration he’s offered you is enough to make you cum, because you start throbbing.

ben cups your cheek, stroking a thumb over your forehead, then your cheek, and then tugs playfully at your bottom lip as you stare up, glassy eyed, whimpering and desperate. “sweet thing.” he tsks, giving in and kissing you.

he tastes like tobacco, and you don’t even mind.

[goldenngt]

Rainy days with you - Jude Bellingham

Just got drenched in rain on my walk home from work, it sucked but gave me this idea

Prompt: Rainy day where Jude gets drenched and you take care of him.

Established relationship, fluff

—————————————————————————

God climate change is a sucker, and the reason that what was currently an extremely hot and humid day had suddenly turned into a massive rainstorm. You pass by the window watching the blur of leaves clashing with water in the violent wind. Ugh thank god you’re inside, the rain looks like a nightmare.

You hear the familiar sound of your doorbell, you scurry over, expecting your boyfriend who had messaged you over an hr ago. Telling you he was on his way. Your eyes widen at the sight, standing in front of you is your drenched boyfriend, with sopping wet hair, shoes, and clothes that drip onto your carpeted floor.

“Jude? What happened, you’re gonna get a cold come here”

You pull him in dragging him by his cold slippery hands. He gives you a sheepish smile and playful roll of his eyes as he lets you drag him in, pulling him towards the bathroom.

“Sorry, I thought I would be able to make it, but the rain just came out of nowhere” he pads behind you, trying his best to not soak your floor.

You halt and turn to look at him, holding both his hands in yours and caressing them with your thumb, “you should’ve called me, I would’ve picked you up” you pout.

His face scrunches lovingly as he mirrors your pout, “ I didn’t wanna bother you baby”

You furrow your brows at this “I’d rather you ask me, then arrive here sopping wet about to catch a cold” you say with a firm tone.

“Okay I will next time”, he says swinging your hands back and forth in his, and then leaning in towards you to place a soft kiss on your nose. Your eyes close at the touch.

You let out a soft sigh, and then notice the subtle shiver of his body against yours making a frown form on your face.

“Come on, you need to have a shower so you don’t get sick.”

You drag him into the bathroom, turning on the shower and adjusting the water, feeling the temp on your hand before turning to look at him, you give him a soft smile and nod that it’s ready.

As you start to leave, Jude softly catches your arm and gives you a sly smile, “what you’re not gonna join me?”

You raise an eyebrow at the request and giggle, “no I’m not, now have your shower, or you’re gonna get sick”, you say pushing him towards the shower.

He lets out a playful groan as he starts to remove his clothes and step into the steamy box.

You close the door and grab a warm towel that you set out for him, then you rummage through your cupboards for a hoodie and sweatpants that’ll fit him.

Once you hear the shower stop, you walk back into the bathroom, passing Jude the towel, as he gives you a appreciative smile, and you plop his clothes on the bench leaving him to get changed.’

He comes out in the hoodie and trackies you gave him looking warm and soft. He gives you a soft grin that meets his eyes and you pat the floor cushion, motioning for him to sit down. ”Come sit, I’ll do your hair”, you have a towel, leave in conditioner and gel laid out on the couch next to you in preparation.

He complies, sitting cross legged on the floor as he finds himself pressed between your legs, still trying to hold back a shiver. Noticing this, you grab the throw blanket and wrap it around him, to which he gives you a grateful smile and nudges into you affectionately.

Now concentrated, you lean forward, opening the container of conditioner and brushing it through his curls with your fingers, he leans his head back into your touch and and lets out a soft hum in content, you continue to take your hands through his hair as you style and dry it, and he relaxes in your hold, his eyes closed and head tilted back as you get to work.

“Ok baby, all done” you tap him gently on the shoulder. He looks up at you, head still in your lap and puckers his lips at you for a kiss. This makes you giggle and you lean forward pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. When you pull away you both give each other a sweet grin, and he reaches up to grab your hand pressing it to his lips. “ thank you baby, you always treat me so well”.

This makes your heart flutter and you lean down to kiss his temple. “Hmm, can’t help it, I love you too much” you murmur against his skin.

He turns against you, moving up till he’s settled over you on the couch resting his head against your chest and nuzzling into you, “I love you too baby, always so good to me”, he presses kisses into your neck and you rake your fingers down his back. This continues as you let the sweet atmosphere carry you both into a deep sleep.

—————————————————————————

Wrote this on a whim.

Hope you guys liked this one - lmk what you think :))

[0and0its0doctor0]

Heat stroke

Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader

Summary: You are self-conscious about the scars on your arms so you wear long sleeves. And wind up getting heat stroke. Spencer takes care of you.

Warnings: Mentions of Self-Harm/Scars

Word Count: 1,010

“Oh god it’s like standing in front of a blow dryer!” You exclaimed as you stepped off the plane in Phoenix Arizona. It was July and the temperature on your phone read 113 degrees. And you were wearing long sleeves. “Why are you wearing long sleeves?” Derek questioned as he stepped off the plane behind you causing you to shrug.”I’m used to it. Besides, I didn’t know we were coming to Phoenix till I got on the plane..” The lie rolled off your tongue easy enough. “Didn’t you used to live out here? Shouldn’t you know better?” Derek asked and Spencer smacked his arm. “Leave her alone.” He muttered. Thankfully everyone got busy grabbing their bags and making their way to the hotel. Once inside the hotel room you pulled off your long sleeve shirt and your eyes drifted down to your arms. They were covered in cuts in varying degrees of healing. Some dated all the way back to high school and some were as fresh as a couple days ago. It was your secret, the way you dealt with your failures and the harsh reality of the job. It helped ground you. Part of you felt like you deserved it. That had been ingrained into your head from such a young age. That you deserved pain. You didn’t deserve to feel good. At least that was what your parents told you. 

The following day you were in long sleeves again and you could feel sweat dripping down the contours of your back, a bead of it trickled down the side of your face. It was hot. You could feel the heat radiating off the sidewalk as you and Spencer questioned a witness. Your face must have been red because Spencer placed his hand carefully on your lower back and pulled a bottle of water from his pocket so he could hand it to you. “Drink.” He commanded lightly and you felt your heart skip a beat. “Yes sir.” You took the bottle and chugged half of it. “Small sips. You chug it, you are just going to throw it back up.” He brushed a curl off your cheek and tucked it behind your ear, the gesture made you smile and you leaned in to the touch on your cheek. You and Spencer weren’t officially dating yet or anything, just a lot of heavy flirting. You finished the water slowly and the two of you went back to talking to witnesses. 

When you watch TV the bullet proof vests look easy and light, like a second shirt. No one told you how ridiculously heavy they were. And uncomfortable. You tugged at your sleeves as you stood behind Hotch with your gun drawn and pointed at the unsub. You guys had him cornered. Why was your vision getting blurry? You blinked several times and wiped the sweat off your forehead with your sleeves not caring if you smeared your makeup. Spencer’s eyes were on you and not the unsub. “She’s gonna drop.” He called out and as soon as he did your knees buckled and you hit the ground. Spencer wanted to run to you but he couldn’t. They had to leave you on the ground for a few minutes as everyone subdued the unsub. Once Spencer was free he had Derek help him drag you into the shade. He carefully took off your vest and tried to cool you off by fanning you with his hand. 

Emily tossed Spencer a bottle of water and he apologized before pouring it on your face. The shock of the cold water had you sitting up quickly which just made your head spin. “Easy now.” Spencer guided you to lay back down with your head in his lap. “We need to take off your shirt. You are overheated.” He informed you and you shook your head. “I can’t.” You mumbled and he looked down at you concerned. “Look whatever you are hiding we can work with okay? We can’t work with you if you are dead. Either I get you cooled down or you go to the hospital and they cool you down.” Spencer brushed some of the hair that was sticking to your forehead back and you sighed heavily. “Fine.” 

You pulled off your shirt which left you in a sports bra and Spencer’s eyes immediately went to your arms causing you to feel extremely self-conscious. He bit his lip and helped you sit up a little so you could take small sips of water. After your 4th sip you leaned over and threw up, Spencer held your hair back. His hand rubbing circles lightly on your back helped calm you down a bit. You looked up as Hotch walked over and looked down at you. “Is she going to be okay?” He asked, looking at Spencer. “Yeah I think she will be okay. It can take just 45 minutes to rehydrate. A study by The Journal of Strength and Conditioning Research found that after mildly dehydrated men consumed just 2 bottles of water, it took under one hour for their bodies to function in a perfectly healthy and hydrated state.” Spencer rattled off the facts easily, his hand continuing to brush your hair back as he spoke making you smile a little. “Alright well she’s your responsibility now.” Hotch nodded and Spencer grinned. “Wouldn’t want it any other way.” He said happily. 

You sat there with Spencer talking about nothing important while he nursed you back to health. When you got back to the hotel he insisted on staying with you to make sure you didn’t have any lasting problems from passing out. That was how you wound up curled up in bed with your head resting on Spencer’s chest, his fingers running through your hair and you listening to his steady heart beat had you quickly falling asleep. He kissed the top of your head and managed to fall asleep himself. Maybe things would be okay. Maybe you did deserve love. Spencer was going to make sure you felt that love.

[emotionalhottiee]

Broken 💔

Jimmy Uso/Jonathan Fatu

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise stated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events in this fanfic are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

just a quick oneshot until i get over this writers block. Hope you enjoy.

Heart Broken…

Doesn’t even begin to explain how i feel. How could he do this to us?

Thoughts of frustration and brokenness ran rampant through my mind as hot tears poured down my face. After all i had been through with Jonathan how could he throw away everything we had. My mind ran back to walking into his condo, opening his bedroom door to be met with an image of some ig thot, bent over while the love of my life was behind her. My heart shattered had into a million pieces.

Now the tears I’ve been crying out, for the past 30 minutes have blurred my vision. Thinking about that day against my will. But seeing him tonight made the memory pop up. Even though i knew there was a slight chance he would be at our friends birthday party. Actual seeing him, just felt like another knife being jammed right into my heart.

“Kenzi, are you alright in there?” “You’ve been in this bathroom a long time” my friend Kiara screamed through the door.

I hadn’t even realized i had been in here that long, but i just couldn’t stop crying. Watching Jon strut up in this party with some new girl on his arm. As if the last year and a half meant so little to him, he could move on within days. LITERALLY 5 days ago i caught him in bed with another woman.

And now it’s saturday, and he bought a whole other woman with him. Damn, How many others were there? I thought to myself as i wiped the tears from my bloodshot red eyes. Trying to cover up the fact that i been in the bathroom of a mutal friend of ours,sobbing over this man. What did i ever do to make him be so cold & callous towards me?

I have to pull myself together! I tried to tell myself encouragingly, i am not going to let him see me, so vulnerable. For what? He doesn’t seem to care in the least bit. Too busy fake laughing at the girl with her ass hanging out of her shorts.

He’s knows her ass ain’t that funny.

As i finish up wiping my face, one last time. Before i could even get myself all the way out of the bathroom Kiara yanked my ass into a tight hug. She knew i needed this that’s why she my friend.

“Girl don’t let him make you sad. Fuck him, you deserve so much better.” She calmly stated to me rocking us back & forth. This is exactly what will make my ass start crying again. But i am so thankful for my friend, trying to keep me from being sad.

Against Kiara’s advice i decided to stay at this party. This was one of Jon & I’s mutal friend, I’m not gonna let him feel like he has won (Even though he totally has won).

I put on my bravest face to go back and chill, before our friends pull out a game of taboo. We had split up into two teams and of course i end up on a team with Jon & his whore of the week. It was almost as if God was punishing me for still wanting to be around him. But truth be told i was obsessed with him. I loved him more than the air i breathed.

And as much as i can possibly lie to myself, i know he loves me too.

*some time later*

The party winded down, Kiara & I were helping our friends clean up. Jon’s little girlfriend ended up leaving. I thought they would’ve rode together but i guess not. And I’m honestly kinda happy about that. He’s been staring at me all night. Now that he’s alone i know where this night will take us. Especially since i rode with Kiara.

Jon asked me if i needed a ride home, knowing damn well i don’t like driving at night. I tried to act like i had to go back with Kiara, she gave us a shrug letting us know she didn’t mind. She knew me too well. As much as she wanted me to stand up for myself, she knew where my heart was. And wanting to be there for me she wasn’t gonna fight me on it. I appreciated that. Giving her a hug goodnight she gave me eyes of pleading, but with a hint of be careful. I rubbed her arms up & down letting her know i’d be okay.

The ride back to Jon’s house was quiet at first nothing but low 90s R&B playing. But he eventually turned the music off. He grabbed my hand while holding the steering with his other and apologized for his actions within the last week. My eyes filled up to the brim before a tear rolled down my cheek. I couldn’t even respond. I just held onto his hand, he bought my hand up to his mouth still holding it kissing it ever so gently. This is the soft, caring Jon i feel in love with. For a quick second he looked at me our eyes staring into one another. Until he turned his eyes back to the road.

This is going to be a great night.

[beweepbomp]

I NEEDED TO URGENTLY VENT BECAUSE IDK WAHT ELSE TO DO.

A lil background. I knew my sexuality as like early as 12. I had two gfs but never anything physical. Now as adult trying to venture out to physical things with another woman. This person we will refer to as Lizzy, from the convos we had never was with a woman in any manner ever but interested to try with me. Okay now this is the insane shit i went thru. enjoy.

Lizzy matched on tinder with me and she asked after some great chit chatting to exchange #'s. Sounds great what could go wrong. After several back n forth spicy texts of what we want to do finally we say hey we should definitely meet up. A few days pass by to finally our meet up date. Science. Ghosted. Okay no biggie. 19 DAYS LATER “Hi i got busy how are you?” I brush it off things do happen and I’m trying to be reasonable. I reply with a hello. No reply again. 40 DAYS LATER “How are you?” At this point I roll my eyes. This is not worth the energy but wow she’s actually replying back idk maybe just shit happens. She tells me it’s been a busy summer travel & work. Okay fair. She shows me cute magnets she made and tells me she’s house sitting.

After a few text exchanges she’s asking me to come over. I get hesitant but she insists. WHAT COULD GO WRONG I SAY? I text her I’ll get ready and take an Uber over. Let me tell you i was giving femme hotness. My skirt was so hiked up. My cute shirt low v cut. Had a jean jacket since it was late into the night. I’m jittery with excitement. I call my best friend she gets the address and says to text me after etc. I order the Uber which was $30+ DOLLARS but i was too excited to care. In the middle of my Uber drive she texts she’s having a panic attack and throwing up. I feel awful. Did i freak her out? But i kept reassuring that we don’t need to do anything physical even when i arrive. No pressure. Assuring to have full consent before engaging in anything. But she insists she’s stuck in the bathroom throwing up and to turn around. Now I’m over 20 minutes away from my apartment around 11:30pm in the middle of the damn suburbs. I arrive and ask by text if i can just sit in the living room until the next Uber comes she says no. I’m outside alone in a foreign place terrified. I video chat with my best friend explaining the situation and she’s in shock as well. Putting me in danger in the middle of nowhere , just alone. Just perfect. My gay ass in the wind trying to remain calm since the streets are barely lit and i have no immediate way home. The connection to data is shitty but im able to order another Uber. Another $30+ out of to go back. But it’s fine no one’s fault right.

She insistently asks texting when my Uber will ber here. My connection isn’t great but it shows 9 minutes. It’s been at least 8 minutes now but the Uber isn’t properly showing the accurate time. My best friend what a god send kept me sane as i waited but a car pulls up and it definitely isn’t my Uber. “Oh i thought you were the girl im meeting with.” OH MY GOD i laugh almost loosing my mind. I point to her house, “oh no no she’s in there.’ Thankfully my Uber arrives as the guy calls out you’re beautiful. Oh thanks bud. Lizzy texts me to say that’s my friend helping me with my panic attack. of course i say seriously you have to be fucking joking. I freak out on her thru text and she insists she’d never intentionally try to put anyone in danger and every other excuse in the book and STILL try’s to see if we will meet up again. Of course i tell her she is fucking nuts and maybe next time be a hospitable hoe if you’re gonna be a hoe at all. I’m not against it but also don’t make a crazy lie and embarrass me. I have no idea im like crushed to seek out afraid to have the same experience of wacky shit. What do i do???? Help pls

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Conrad fisher for the ‘’We should go swimming.’’ prompt with skinny dipping? Smut if you it

Warnings: nudity

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’We should go swimming,’’ Conrad suggested, laying down on the patio couch with his legs over your lap and a blunt between his lips.

You hummed in agreement, taking the blunt from him and taking a puff. There was nothing better than a night swim after being hot all day.

You exhaled slowly, blowing a cloud of smoke up the air so the skunk smell would not get inside the house. ‘’That sounds really nice, but I don’t have my bathing suit on.’’

Conrad shrugged, not seeing a problem. ‘’You don’t have to. Let’s go skinny dipping,’’ he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

You laughed, shaking your head, assuming he was kidding.

He sat up and took back the blunt from you. ‘’I’m serious.’’ He brushed a piece of your hair, his hand going down your neck and the decolletage of your dress.

‘’You’re insane,’’ you said back, swatting his hand away before he could reach the front tie. ‘’I’m not getting naked in your family pool again. We almost got caught the last time—’’

Conrad shook his head, flicking the ash off the end. ‘’Not in the pool, the ocean.’’

Swimming naked in a private pool was one thing, but in the ocean? What if some pervert in a nearby house sees you? What if you get stung by a sea urchin? What if your clothes get blown away by the wind and you have to get home naked?

‘’I’m gonna pass.’’ You took the blunt from Conrad, but he held it away from your reach. ‘’Give it to me, Con,’’ you sighed, pouting your lips at him.

‘’No swimming, no weed.’’ A playful smile curled on his mouth. ‘’Come on. The sun is down, there’s no one at this hour. I’ll be just you and me.’’

Your heart was pounding as you and Conrad made your way down the beach, pushing away thoughts of who might be watching from the neighboring beach houses. He held your hand, leading you to a part of the beach that was darker so you would feel safer.

Once he deemed the spot secluded enough, he peeled his shirt off over his head and chucked it in the sandy ground before doing the same with his shorts, not very body shy.

You reached for the tie of your dress and pulled at the knot, the front coming loose and revealing your bra and panties. They didn’t match, but neither did Conrad’s socks.

The rest of your clothes came off in the soft moonlight, your bodies bared to the warm summer breeze. It felt strange to be naked on the beach, but Conrad was there to make you more comfortable, reassuring you with a gentle kiss and sweet nothings.

‘’Holy fuck, this is cold,’’ you hissed, feeling your nipples get hard as your feet touched the water.

Conrad rolled his eyes, water already to his knees. ‘’It’s not that bad.’’

You shifted uncomfortably, not so sure about this midnight bath anymore. ‘’I think I’m gonna back out on this…’’ You made a move to step back, but Conrad grabbed your middle and lifted you off your feet, dragged you farther in the water despite your protests. ‘’Conrad, no! Let go of me! Put me down! Conrad—’’ you pleaded, but it was too late.

A sudden wave crashed from behind, sending both of you tumbling into the cool water.

You both bursted into laughter as you emerged.

‘’That was not planned,’’ Conrad said, shaking his head and wiping his face to get the salt water out of his eyes.

You wanted to be mad at him for throwing you in the water, but the unexpected turn of events was just too funny. For someone who spends his whole summer surfing, how did he not remember to never turn your back to the ocean?

‘’Shouldn’t you know to never turn your back to the ocean?’’ you teased, looking at him across the distance the waves took you. He was so pretty in the moonlight that you couldn’t seem to stop looking. His wet hair and defined chest, the smile across his lips.

He snapped you from your staring by swimming toward you in a moment and pulling you against him, wrapping you in his arms. You relaxed against him, leaning your head back on his shoulder, enjoying the moment in Conrad's embrace.

‘’It’s nice, isn’t it?’’ he said softly, his lips right by your ear.

It was indeed very nice.

You turned in his hold, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him softly. He tasted of salt water and the weed you shared before coming down to the beach. You hummed into his mouth, dragging your hands through his wet hair, an invisible bubble forming around you.

Conrad deepened the kiss as you pressed yourself closer to him. He felt your pebbled nipples brush against his chest and pulled away. ‘’If you play that game, I don't think I can make it back to the house in time.’’

Instead of breaking from him, you kissed him again, this time more passionately, and wrapped your legs around his waist. The feeling of your whole body against him went straight down.

For someone who didn’t want to go skinny dipping, you were very into it now.

An owl’s hoot echoed through the night, mixing with your soft breathy sounds as Conrad started trailing kisses down your jaw and neck, nipping at the delicate skin occasionally between his sweet pecks. His hands slid up your sides while yours dug into his shoulder’s tanned skin.

‘’Are you sure about this?’’ he whispered in your ear, taking your earlobe between his teeth and your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. You gasped and he groaned, your midnight bath taking a more PG-16 turn.

‘’Yes.’’ 

—

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[daryltwdixon]

The Promise of Us: Chapter 7

“What’re we gonna feed it?” Daryl’s voice cuts through the void of chaos and crying, his tone steady but urgent. Rick stands, his gaze distant, shock settling deep as he processes the loss of his wife.

“Do we even have anything a baby can eat?” you ask, moving closer to Hershel as Carl gently hands the newborn to him.

“The good news is, she looks healthy,” Hershel replies, his weathered hands carefully holding the baby, “but she needs formula—and soon—or she won’t survive.”

“Nope, no way,” Daryl interjects, his voice gruff with determination. “Not her. We ain’t losin’ nobody else. I’m goin’ on a run.”

“I’m coming,” you say firmly, holstering your gun and preparing to move without hesitation. You catch Maggie’s eye as she steps forward, her voice raw from crying, but still resolute.

“I’ll be your backup,” she says. You give her a nod, appreciating her strength.

“I’m coming too,” Glenn adds, his tone leaving no room for debate.

“Okay, think where we’re goin’—Beth,” Daryl says, pulling the younger girl over to the side. You follow them, your senses on high alert despite the exhaustion.

Daryl leans down to whisper to Beth, his voice gentler than usual. “Kid just lost his mom—his dad ain’t doin’ so hot.”

“I’ll look after him,” she promises, her big blue eyes brimming with worry but filled with resolve. She catches your eye, and without thinking, you pull her into a tight hug, holding her close.

When you pull back, there are unshed tears in her eyes, and you bite back your own, refusing to let them fall now. There’s no time for that. You have a job to do.

“Somebody get to the fence! Too many are piling up out there,” you shout over your shoulder, feeling the weight of responsibility pressing down on you.

“Glenn, Maggie, vámonos!” Daryl shouts. But before you can move, Rick suddenly lunges for his hammer, taking off toward C Block without a word. Daryl barely glances in his direction, barking orders to the others. “Get the gate! C’mon! We’re gon’ lose the light!”

You fall into step beside him, your heartbeat syncing with the adrenaline pumping through your veins. As you run, Glenn calls out, “There’s a store nearby with a baby section—”

“No, it’s already been cleared,” Maggie interrupts, shaking her head.

“Any place that hasn’t been completely looted?” you ask, reaching the nearest car. Daryl pulls open the side door for you, his movements quick but careful as he hands you his crossbow. You take it, hopping into the car, but leaving the door open to hear the rest of the plan. 

“We saw a sign, a shopping center just north of here,” Glenn adds as Daryl slides into the front seat.

“There’s too much debris on that road, a car can’t get through,” Maggie says, her voice edged with frustration.

You lock eyes with Daryl, and without saying a word, you both know the solution. The motorcycle.

“I can only take one,” he grunts, throwing his poncho around himself.

Maggie steps forward, “I’ll go,” her voice steady despite the wear of the day. But Glenn stops her, gently placing a hand on her arm.

“Maggie,” he say softly, meeting her gaze, “You’ve been through enough today.”

She hesitates, then sighs, her shoulders dropping slightly, “The two of you work better in tandem anyway,” she mutters, handing you her backpack. “It’s like you guys can read each other’s damn minds sometimes— you go.”

You give her a small, grateful smile, securing the backpack over your shoulders. Daryl revs the bike, the familiar roar of the engine filling the air, and without another word, you climb on behind him.

With a final glance back at the group, you hold on tight, and the two of you take off, the wind whipping past as the world blurs around you.

❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥

Daryl pulls the bike to a stop near a chain-link fence, the rusted metal surrounding what looks like an abandoned daycare. The overgrown lawn is dotted with a jungle gym, the swing set creaking eerily in the light breeze. His eyes narrow as he scans the area.

“Company’s close,” he grunts as you swing your leg off the bike. “Stay tight—got ammo?”

You nod, and with that confirmation, the two of you make your way up to the side of the building, staying low and quiet. You cup your hands against a dusty window, peering inside. It’s a scene frozen in time—cribs, changing tables, all the remnants of a world long gone.

Breaking the window with ease, you climb inside, landing on the old, worn carpet. The bright blue walls are covered in children’s art projects, colorful reminders of a life once lived. A TV sits in the corner, the decorations still neatly arranged, as if the place is just waiting for someone to return.

You shrug off the backpack Maggie gave you and start grabbing anything that looks remotely useful for a baby—diapers, wipes, clothes. You rummage through cabinets and drawers, not letting yourself dwell too much on the haunting stillness of the room.

Daryl climbs in through the window behind you, his presence steady as always, and leads the way down the narrow hallway. You follow close, careful to avoid stepping on anything that might make noise. The air is thick with quiet tension as you move, your ears alert for any sound out of place.

There’s a faint rattling ahead. As you quietly enter another room, Daryl turns to you, the flashlight clamped between his teeth casting a soft glow over your face. His blue eyes flick toward you before he pushes open a door that leads into a kitchen.

The rattling comes from a lower cupboard. You move toward it cautiously, your fingers tightening around the handle. You glance back at Daryl, who gives you a nod, and with a quick breath, you yank the door open.

A hissing sound erupts from inside. You lock eyes with a possum, its beady gaze flashing in the light just as Daryl’s arrow flies, hitting it square in the heart.

“Hello, dinner,” he mutters with a smirk.

“You’re so gross,” you roll your eyes, unable to suppress a smile. “That is not goin’ in my bag.”

As you cross the room to check another cupboard, your breath catches when you find exactly what you’ve been searching for—containers of baby formula, untouched. You could almost start singing Hallelujah. 

You turn to him with a small smile on your face, “Lookie here,” you say, stuffing the packages into your bag. You meet his gaze as he pulls the possum up, but when his eyes land on you, you can see the sadness in them. You can see past his eyes that he has the events of the day on his mind. The people lost.

“Dare…” you begin, your voice quiet, “about Carol–”

But before you can say more, Daryl is suddenly crossing the space between you, his crossbow left on the ground behind him. His hand moves with purpose as he pushes you gently but firmly against the counter. His lips crash into yours, catching you off guard, but there’s no hesitation in the way you kiss him back. It’s raw, the kind of kiss that says more than words ever could. His hands grip your waist to pull himself against you, and for a second, all the fear, the loss, and the uncertainty dissolve in the warmth of his touch.

You know him well enough by now to understand this is his way of saying everything’s going to be okay, his way of telling you he’s alright without having to speak about the pain he’s holding onto. When he finally steps back, breathless, he brushes his knuckle along your cheekbone—something he’s been doing more lately, a soft, almost sentimental gesture that always makes your heart skip. His eyes, stormy and pained, linger on yours, and for a brief moment, all you know is to hold onto him as long as you can.

“We gotta get back,” he says, his voice rough, but there’s something soft behind it, something steady.

You nod, knowing this is enough for now.

❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥

The road ahead is dark as Daryl drives the motorcycle toward the prison gates, the roar of the engine loud in your ears, sending vibrations through your body. Axel and Oscar stand at the gate, pulling it open just in time for Daryl to ride through, the bike rumbling into the yard. He parks by C Block, and you dismount, your legs stiff from the ride.

Inside, the only light comes from the moon filtering through the high windows, casting a pale glow on the group gathered around Carl, who cradles the crying newborn. You shrug your bag off your shoulders, swinging it onto the table. “Beth? Maggie?” you call out, your voice slightly breathless. They rush over, immediately digging into the supplies.

Beth is the first to stand beside you, her hands moving quickly through the contents as you open the formula and tear into the new bottles you found. From behind, you hear Daryl’s low voice asking about the baby, but you don’t turn. You’re focused, moving with urgency to get the formula ready.

Finally, with the bottle mixed, you turn to hand it over—and freeze.

Daryl’s holding the baby. His strong, muscled arms cradle her with a tenderness you’ve never seen. The sight of him, this rough-edged man who’s faced down death a hundred times, holding something so small, so fragile—it catches you completely off guard. Your breath hitches, and for a moment, it feels like the world tilts on its axis.

Beth gently takes the bottle from your unmoving hands, stepping forward to pass it to Daryl. But your eyes don’t leave him, your chest tightening with a swell of emotions that are so strong, they almost overwhelm you. Daryl, the man who is always ready for a fight, looks at the baby with such care, feeding her as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“She got a name yet?” he asks, his voice gruff but softened by the warmth in his expression. His gaze sweeps the room, landing on you. The smile falters for just a second when he catches the look on your face, something unspoken passing between you. But then the twinkle in his eyes returns as he glances back down at the baby.

“Not yet,” Carl replies, shaking his head. “I was thinking... maybe Sophia.”

The name hits you hard, tugging at the corners of memories buried deep. Sophia. It felt like a lifetime ago when you were all searching for her in those woods. Carl continues, his voice quieter now, listing the names of those lost: “Then there’s Carol, too. And… Andrea, Amy, Jacqui, Patricia… or Lori, I don’t know.”

Daryl listens, his attention now fully on Carl, though the baby remains cradled securely in his arms. He’s quiet for a moment, then a smile slowly spreads across his face as he looks back at the baby. “Yeah? Would you like that? Little ass-kicker?”

You can’t help it—a real, unexpected laugh bursts from your mouth, the sound surprising you as much as it does him. Daryl’s head snaps up again and his eyes lock onto yours, the glint of surprise mirrored in his expression. But it’s the softness, the way his face lights up at your laugh, that makes your heart swell even more.

“Right? That’s a good name, right?” he continues, turning back to the baby with that same quiet warmth, “Little ass-kicker, huh? You like that, sweetheart?”

❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥

The next morning, the sound of locusts hums through the open windows, a constant reminder of the world outside. You sit up in the guard tower, eyes scanning the yard below as the early morning light stretches across the prison grounds. From your vantage point, you spot Daryl walking slowly, his steps deliberate as he approaches a small cross stuck in the ground.

You watch in silence as he kneels down, something small in his hand. He places it carefully at the base of the cross, lingering for a moment before standing back up. It’s only when he moves away that you notice the small white flower resting at the bottom, a quiet offering to someone lost.

Your heart tightens as you watch him make his way back to the yard. Without thinking, you rise, leaving the tower to meet him at the bottom of the steps just as he reaches the gate.

“Mornin’,” you say softly, your voice gentle in the stillness of the early hour.

He grunts a low hello, his eyes flicking up to meet yours briefly before shifting away. There’s something quiet in his expression, a heaviness he’s not putting into words.

You don’t need to say anything more. Without hesitation, you step closer and slip your arm around his waist, drawing him into you as you both turn back toward the prison. The gesture is simple but full of understanding—no words needed as you guide him inside again, both of you silently sharing the weight of everything left unspoken.

A few hours later, breakfast is a quiet affair. You quietly stir your oatmeal, the spoon scraping lightly against the bowl as you sit on the steps leading up to the warden’s office. Daryl is sitting on the step below, his back resting between your knees, his presence a quiet comfort. The clinking of silverware against bowls echoes softly through the room as everyone eats in near silence, the weight of the morning heavy in the air.

Your attention shifts when you hear footsteps approaching from across the room. Daryl’s head tilts up too, both of you watching as Rick enters.

“Everybody okay?” Rick asks, his voice subdued as he surveys the room.

“Yeah,” you answer softly, offering a small nod. “We are.”

“What about you?” Hershel asks, his gaze steady on Rick.

Rick’s eyes are distant, vacant, as he approaches the table where Glenn, Maggie, Hershel, and Carl sit in a quiet huddle. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days.

“I cleared out the boiler block,” Rick says quietly.

“How many were there?” Daryl asks, breaking the silence that had settled around him all morning.

Rick’s eyes flicker toward you both. “A dozen. Maybe two.”

You suck in a quiet breath, your stomach twisting at the thought of him facing that many walkers alone. There hadn’t even been a gunshot.

“I need to get back,” Rick mutters, already turning away. “Just wanted to check on Carl.” He pats his son’s back, his touch brief and mechanical, before he heads toward the door.

“Rick—we can handle taking out the bodies,” Glenn stands, his voice gentle but firm. “You don’t have to do everything.”

Rick shakes his head, his movements stiff. “No, I do,” he says, but he doesn’t stop moving until he reaches you and Daryl on the stairs.

“Everyone have a gun and a knife?” Rick asks, his voice low, but there’s an urgency behind it. You glance around the room, mentally counting the weapons each person carries, before Daryl responds with a nod. “Yeah. But we’re runnin’ low on ammo.”

“Maggie and I were planning to make a run this afternoon,” Glenn adds from behind Rick. “Found a phonebook with some places we could hit—look for more formula and bullets.”

“We cleared out the generator room,” you tell Rick, hoping the news might ease some of the burden he’s shouldering. “Axel’s working on it in case we need it.”

“We’re gonna sweep the lower levels too,” Daryl chimes in, his voice steady, grounding.

Rick nods, already half-turned to leave. “Good. Good,” he mutters, his words rushed as he strides out of the room again.

Hershel calls after him, concern thick in his voice, but Rick doesn’t stop. He’s already lost in his own world, slipping further into the weight of everything he’s carrying.

Your hand lands in Daryl’s hair softly, brushing it with your fingertips, and you feel him sigh beneath you. 

Once everyone finishes breakfast, Daryl stands, stretching slightly before turning to you. “I’m gon’ go check on the boiler block, make sure everythin’s alright,” he says, his voice low. You nod, knowing he’s not expecting you to come with him. He needs space right now, and you understand that instinctively.

You reach for his bowl and spoon, stacking them with yours when Oscar approaches, offering to join him. Daryl nods in quiet acceptance but pauses before leaving, his eyes lingering on you. His fingers brush gently against the side of your face and you lean into the touch, just for a moment, letting the warmth of it settle in before he drops his hand. Without another word, he turns and heads off with Oscar.

You rise from the table, gathering the empty bowls in your arms, preparing to take them outside to clean. As you pass by, Beth smiles warmly, the baby nestled safely in her arms. You return the smile before heading toward the door, Carl trailing behind you, collecting scraps and bits of trash from the table without a word.

As you work, you glance over at him, watching how he’s methodically picking up the trash, his face drawn and serious. “Hey,” you say softly, not wanting to push too hard but needing to ask. “You doin’ okay?”

Carl pauses for a moment, his hand stilling as he picks at the ground. He doesn’t look up immediately, but eventually, he gives a small nod. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “I’m fine.”

You can hear the weight in his voice, the unspoken emotions lying beneath the surface. But you don’t push, knowing he might not be ready to say more. Instead, you reach out, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, letting him know you’re there. “If you need anything… you know where I am,” you offer, your voice calm, steady.

Carl looks up at you under the brim of his hat then, his eyes meeting yours for a brief second before he nods again. You go back to scraping the dishes, the quiet moment between you stretching on, a shared understanding settling in the space. Carl stays close, helping as you finish the task in silence, and you can’t help yourself as you pray for just one good, normal day.

[the-californicationist]

Guile & Guilt (Ch. 04)

Link to AO3

MDNI/18+

THE SAME DAY

Pidge offered to let you shower and change in her room so that you could be warm again and in clean clothes. You took her up on it, eager to feel the hot water and steam heat your skin.

Roger was already snoring, dead asleep on the sofa in the living room, and Johnny - or Soap, as Bekah had named him - disappeared into his room for a bit, looking for his own shower. He was absent while you and Pidge tried the cake samples from the Stiff Peaks bakery. She gushed about the flavors and the use of spices in the cake and its icing. You even got a few moans of culinary approval from Hamish whose high standards were impossible to reach. All in all, it felt like a success.

So why did you feel so empty? It was more than just the text from Bekah. There was some piece missing, something you got wrong and needed to fix. But, what could it be?

Johnny had confessed his feelings to you, and his kiss had felt… well, it had felt like a kiss should feel. It was the kiss that every young person imagined they might experience one day when the softness of someone else’s mouth finally found their own, their tongue icing the flesh of the other’s like a knife through a creamy, sugary glaze. The heat of their wet lips burning their edges, locked into a primal embrace of ownership and consumption, eating without feeling full. Devouring and yet becoming hungrier, increasing your appetite, gorging on the sweetness, until finally…

Johnny’s door popped open and he came to join you in the kitchen. His eyes went to you before eventually settling on Brigette,

“So? What’s the verdict, then? Dinnae meet the mark?”

“Sure,” Pidge smiled at him, “Right on target, you wee nugget. Good thing I sent you then.”

Johnny nodded to you, sitting in the bar stool next to yours at the kitchen counter. He gestured to you,

“She kept me in line, so she did. Would’ve gone for the chocolate myself.”

Pidge nudged you,

“Aye, what’d I tell you.”

You offered the other half of the cake to him, passing him your fork. He took it, cocking his smile into a mischievous grin,

“You’d have been proud of your wee hen here, Pidge. She made a pretty convincing bride. Might have to recruit her for our next mission. Be needin’ some espionage.”

Pidge laughed without even glancing up at him, her voice full of bitterness,

“So, havin’ you and da’ throw away your life on spyin’ wasnae enough. Should be my best friend, too?”

The whole room went cold. Johnny was mid-chew when he heard his sister’s comment, and he spat out the cake into a napkin in disgust. Pidge cut him off before he could say anything,

“Don’t forget to give little miss James Bond here a ride to her fitting tomorrow. I’m off for my shower,” she squeezed her brother’s forearm, seeming to understand that she had hit a nerve. He did not respond to her words nor her touch.

Johnny turned inward, closing off from conversation. You tried to coax him back out,

“Hey, here’s your phone. I think you missed a call.”

Without saying anything, he took the phone from you. He flipped through the message, and his expression remained unchanged.

“Gonna steal some of tha’ stew Hamish has been hidin’. You want in, thief?” He asked you, reaching for the pots and spoons before cracking open the freezer.

“Aren’t you gonna go to the pub?” You asked, trying to be as unbothered as possible.

He froze in place, holding the pot by its handle, locking eyes with you,

“No, not unless you wanted to do dinner with me, lass. Cravin’ samosas?”

It was a test. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t, but here you were, playing games. Could the party boy resist a party? You were about to find out.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “Maybe a little. We could get take away.”

“Brilliant,” he grabbed his keys and followed you to the door.

Now that night had settled in, it was too cold in the Jeep. You held your arms right to your body and tried to shield yourself from the wind. Johnny dug around in the back and dragged out a camo jacket with his name tacked onto the chest.

You put it on and it swallowed you, warming you up from the inside out. The fold of the collar flapped just under your nose, letting you smell his orange, woody scent. There was something else, too. Gunpowder. You smelled like fireworks and winter citrus.

“Thanks,” you said, wrapping it tighter around you.

“You make it look good,” his smile was bright and full of innocent praise, “Warm enough?”

You nodded, suddenly shy. You regretted your decision to drag him out of the house again. You should’ve kept him all to yourself, covetous and selfish like a hoarder, locking him in like a shorn Repunzel, playing like Circe with her pigs. But, you didn’t want to be Circe. You wanted to be Penelope. Permanent, as impossible though it may have been.

Was he Odysseus? Or Narcissus?

The car park was packed. He dropped you off at the door and you waited for him to find a spot in the back. He pulled the keys out of the Jeep and did a bit of a jog to catch up to you.

He commented on the crowd,

“Match is on. Rangers and Aberdeen. Whole town should be out tonight.”

You made a quiet noise in assent, not knowing enough about football to comment.

He held the gate open for you, and you walked through the smoky, crowded courtyard. Ettrick’s had tons of outdoor space, and the tall heat lamps made it cozy despite the nip in the air.

Inside, the noise hit you like a punch. It was a small space and the din was overwhelming. Warmth and bodies and smells tumbled over you like a wave. Johnny pulled a menu from the host stand, positioning himself as a barrier between you and the chaos.

He had to lean in close to you for you to hear him,

“Samosas, yeah? And we gotta do the chicken khorma. It’s top notch here, lass. Trust me.”

“Sure. Sounds good,” you smiled and watched him look around for the host.

Just as he rounded the corner, you heard a loud shout,

“MacTavish! You made it,” Lachlan’s voice carried through the crowded bar and you watched Johnny’s face light up in recognition.

He shook Lachlan’s hand and Bekah came up behind him, wrapping her arms in a tight hug, which he returned, just as tightly. They chatted together for a moment until you saw Lachlan look over Johnny’s big shoulder right into your eyes. He waved you over, and you tried to control your face. So much regret. But, you made your bed and now you had to lie in it.

“Hey, babes,” Lachlan and Bekah hugged you as well. The tall, handsome man made a point to leave his arm around your shoulder when you pulled away, “You can’t miss the game. We told Johnny you’re eating in, no complaints!”

“Yeah,” Bekah clung to Johnny’s heavy arm, “We’ve got plenty of room. Come have a seat.”

“Well…” Johnny started to make an excuse, giving you an out, but the look on his face was so earnestly disappointed that you interrupted him,

“Okay, thanks.”

You followed her to the table, and Johnny fell in behind. The waitress took your order. You watched the game, and you fell into a quiet lull. The room was bursting with energy, and you watched as Johnny slipped into the excitement. He fed off of the highs and the lows of the match. He barely touched his food, and you ate alone. He was right about the khorma. It was delicious. You wrapped up your leftover samosa and put it near his plate. He’d find it eventually.

You pushed your chair out and stood to leave. He turned to you and caught your hand. You stared at his hand and he stared down at it too, dropping it after a breath, forgetting himself for a moment,

“Where you off to, bonnie?”

“Ladies’ room. See you in a bit,” you ducked out of the crowd and into the bathroom for a moment, trying to get your thoughts together in the silence.

You washed your hands and avoided the mirror until you had to look. Then, there it was, the embroidered “MacTavish” across your chest, a little too ironic.

You took a deep breath and went back out into the fray. The Rangers scored, and Ettrick’s went wild. Bekah and Johnny held each other by the arms and screamed with joy into each other’s faces, nearly leaping over the table in celebration.

Johnny’s focus on her was so intense, the look in his eyes so full of fiery admiration, you could barely look at them. He could have Bekah. There were no rules against her like there were for you. You shouldn’t have had the nerve to even consider that he might choose you. How could he go against the wishes of his own sister? How could you?

You were right next to the back door, so you made your exit. It was a long walk back to his room, and you were nearly frozen by the time you got there. Rodger was still snoring away, and Pidge’s door was closed. So, you stripped down to just your shorts and a tank, and you crawled into bed, defeated.

TWO HOURS LATER

“There you are, mhèirleach! You had me worried sick,” the deep rumble of Johnny’s voice and his heavy weight shifting onto the mattress pulled you from your sleep.

You groaned, trying to deter his attention. He smelled like the bar, and himself, but mostly the bar. All you felt was guilt and shame and you wanted it to stop.

“Are you alright, lass? Why’d you go? I would’ve taken you back.”

“It’s fine,” you mumbled.

He didn’t reply. You fell back to sleep, starving for something you couldn’t eat.

…BEFORE MORNING

You awoke to a strong nose and jaw nuzzling your hair and neck, taking long deep inhales of your scent and breathing heavy. Johnny had his arm snaked up through the bottom of your shirt, his huge hand sticking out of the crew collar, holding you firmly against the base of your clavicle. His thumb was feeling the crescent curve where your throat met your body, over and over like he needed to memorize it. Like he wanted to find it again in the dark and know it was one and the same.

Was he awake? You couldn’t tell. You could tell, however, that his cock was pressing hard between your thighs, the fabric of your shorts shoved out of place by the fabric of his boxer briefs, straining against the thin cloth.

“A bheil thu milis, a mhèirleach?” Are you sweet, thief?

You decided that no, he wasn’t awake. He knew you didn’t speak Gaelic, and you had no idea what he was asking. Yet, your body seemed to. It recognized his aching timbre, its dark dulcet layers folding over your senses like silky caramel.

His hand retraced its path, sliding back through the valley of your breasts, exploring southward, finding the gaping waistband of your shorts and your lack of knickers under them. Upon discovery, his big body rocked into you, his thick rod riding into your thigh, begging for relief. A ragged, shuddering sigh left his lips and you felt it race across your skin.

“Feumaidh fios a bhith agam.” I need to know.

His words all slurred together. You were too busy melting under his hand to care for a translation. His wrist finally dipped low enough for him to slip one thick finger into your wet heat, soaking itself there like a wick in wax, coated and milky.

Your breath stalled. You couldn’t breathe in, nor out, and you felt your pussy clench around his knuckles, kissing his fingertip as he slipped it back out. Then, you watched as he slowly brought it to his lips, right next to your face, and you saw him feed himself with your slick, sucking it off of his skin, licking the knuckles of his fingers, eager for any missed drops.

Wild, crazed pleasure mixed with cold guilt in your chest. So, you called for help,

“Johnny?” Your voice was just above a whisper.

He breathed into your neck again, and then his tone changed. His language changed. He changed.

“Mm,” he whispered, “Sorry, thief. You stole my covers.”

With that excuse, he took some of the blanket from you and turned back over, breathing deeply again, leaving you there in a million little pieces.

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+

Chapter 05

[64yrsold]

TOOTIME !

“Wake up,” I swatted his shoulder in the dark, gasping, “Wake up, wake up!”

“Wh—“ he groaned, the outline of him turning towards me.

“I’m gonna puke, I’m—“ I clasped a hand over my mouth, my stomach turning to stone. He shot out of bed, furiously rustling through the bathroom. He returned with the garbage bin, thrusting it into my hands. I clutched it, hands trembling, mouth watering, eyes squeezed shut. But nothing.

“I’m alright,” I groaned, throwing the bin aside and laying back down in bed. He sighed, sitting beside me and flicking on the lamp.

“Fuck!” We both screeched, assaulting the lamp as we tried to turn it off. He managed to find the switch, both of us sighing in relief.

“Do you feel…” I started.

“Like Death himself?” He nodded, clearing his throat. The bed seemed to be throwing my body in circles, my mind stuck in the spin cycle of this hangover. He scrubbed the back of his hand against his eye, yawning.

“I only had,” I paused, counting drinks on my fingers. I gasped quietly when I ran out of fingers.

“You were obliterated,” he laughed, closing his hands around mine.

“So were you!” I muttered defensively, letting him kiss my forehead as he crawled into bed beside me.

“Yeah,” he stroked my cheek sweetly, “but I didn’t try to take my clothes off in the taxi home.”

I looked at him, jaw open, “No I didn’t.”

“Yes you did,” he giggled, writhing and pulling at the hem of his t-shirt. Mocking me.

I squinted, “You’re still wearing your dress pants!”

“Oh, shit,” he said between laughs, unbuckling his belt.

“Jesus Christ,” I groaned, “Did I embarrass myself?”

“You, darling?” He threw his pants across the room, “You could never make a fool of yourself.”

“Oh, you liar,” I hit his shoulder, “What did I do?”

“I’m serious! You were a perfect lady last night.”

“Fuck off,” I whined, grabbing his shirt in my fist, “Tell me what I did!”

He licked his lips, his face becoming clearer as the sun gently rose behind him. I hoped the morning light would cure the nausea.

“Should we re-enact it?”

“God,” I squeezed my eyes shut, cheeks already bright red.

“Oh, baby,” he squeaked, imitating my voice, “Take me home, baby.”

“Ew, ew!” I giggled as he moved to straddle my waist, putting his hands on my collarbones, “I didn’t say that.”

He kissed my cheek, “Oh, you look so handsome, let’s fuck right here in front of everyone, let’s fuck in the alley, let’s fuck in the car—“

“I didn’t say that!”

He smirked, “God, I need you so bad!” He riddled my neck with kisses, his stubble stinging my skin.

“What happened when we got out of the car?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t kiss and tell,” he shrugged, biting at my earlobe. His breath was hot at my jaw, stuttering my heart.

“You can tell if I was the one you kissed!” I laughed, exasperated.

He grinned down at me, pulling his shirt off slowly.

“Oh, baby,” he mocked me again, “I’m gonna fuck you all night.” He tossed his shirt at my face, and I flung it across the room with a laugh.

He brought his lips on mine— likely more carefully than I had been last night— gently pressing into me until my head was syrupy and sluggish. I felt my heart slow into a heavy, pretty rhythm, matching with his as he licked at my bottom lip.

He shifted, letting me wrap my legs around his hips. I swallowed the quiet moans from his mouth, feeling the sun pry at our twisted skin. I held his jaw, feeling it move and flex; taut, muscle and bone. I could feel the words at the tip of my tongue, I need you so bad. I let my hands slip over his chest, thumbs skimming his waistband, sucking his bottom lip harshly.

His mouth went limp.

I blinked.

A tiny snore fell from his lips, still pressed to mine. I smiled against him, stifling a giggle.

“That’s what happened?” I pushed him back, his smile wider than mine.

He nodded, curls bouncing on his forehead, “Fell asleep right on top of me.”

“God,” I laughed, winding my fingers in his hair, “I’m sorry, baby.”

“Don’t apologize,” he popped a kiss on my cheek, laying down beside me, “Best sleep I’ve ever had.”

“Shut up,” I kissed him, then tucked my head under his chin. He wrapped his arms over my shoulders, pulling me tight to his chest. We slept, the sun streaming in around us.

//

[sanjisboyfie]

๑ keep safe : zoro being annoyed at his captain and [name] (16)

one piece x male reader

maybe you're the same as me 

we see things they'll never see 

you and i,

we're gonna live forever 

『 prev 』

that night, no one really pressed [name] for answers of what ace and him talked about. they left him alone, except for luffy who had zero social cues. but it seemed like [name] didn’t mind his company.

he was grinning ear to ear as he talked with luffy about whatever luffy wanted to talk about. the crew was worried for [name] to an extent, but it was good to see their captain take some of that stress off of his shoulders. and just by being himself. luffy was attentive to [name], clinging onto him and pouting for attention every now and then. and since [name] was feeling rather sentimental, he gave every ounce of attention he could to luffy. 

[name] and luffy talked the whole rest of the night, falling asleep in each others’ arms. a whispered i love you was barely heard as it was carried away by the wind, but the tightening of luffy's arms around [name] let the man know he did hear it. to some extent, the setting reminded him of their treehouse. just using each other for body heat when the nights were cold. it made [name] only more grateful that he did end up finding luffy when he did.

but, despite how peaceful their night together was, the next day, [name] was filled with nothing but unbridled rage towards his captain. once more.

“you’re fucking with me,” [name] rasped, looking at their surroundings.

a couple hours prior — “alright, zoro, [name], it’s up to you then,” nami called out to the duo, making them immediately refuse the idea. seeing their reluctance, nami pulled her trump card, “do you want me to talk about your debt?”

luffy had gone and drank water from a suspicious cactus. it caused him to start hallucinating and essentially going feral. and no one else wanted to deal with him, zoro and [name] included. but when nami commanded them to, using their debt as a means of pushing them to act, they cursed under their breath. 

unfortunately, it worked and it got them stepping to work immediately.

“if you don’t end up in hell, i’ll kick you down there myself!”

“cursed navigator.”

“don’t talk so badly about me!” nami said in a sing song voice, “and zoro — i look forward to it!” she continued in the same tone, making zoro and [name] even more annoyed.

“b-but, nami, what if something bad happens?! we need [name] here to fight them!!”

“i’m stronger than both of those idiots combined, don’t panic, usopp,” sanji said in a relaxed tone, stuffing his hands into his robes pockets, “let’s just go on ahead, though, they’ll follow after us.

now, chopper was their only hope in getting luffy back to normal. but, of course, out of nowhere luffy began attacking zoro. [name] cursed in annoyance, allowing the first-mate to take care of this business. in the meantime, [name] was going to unbury chopper’s small body from the sand.

the two got right into throwing punches at each other and after a couple minutes in, chopper woke up.

“ah, thanks [name] for getting me out of the hot sand,”

“no problem, just do the same for me if i ever run into that problem,” [name] grinned, making chopper nod in compliance.

“oh, what are they doing though?”

“fighting it out, i think it’s the only way to get luffy out of that stupid state,” [name] sighed, leaning into the sand and watching the fight with not a single emotion on his face, “how stupid is luffy and why does he have to be the captain,” he rasped out.

chopper took his seat, waiting for something pivotal to happen so he could intervene. and when the two fighting finally struck each other in the face - properly - he ran down with his medicine bag to help.

he put some potion underneath zoro’s nose to wake him up and then soon, luffy followed after.

“where are the others?” zoro coughed.

“don’t know, was busy making sure you two didn’t actually kill each other,” [name] said with a shrug, “doesn’t matter, let’s just follow the footprints, can’t be too hard,”

“right, right,” zoro agreed, getting up from the sand and looking around.

at the same time chopper came to the same conclusion.

“right…the footprints,”

another breeze blew past them, sending their own previous footprints to be erased completely.

now — “don’t leave me behind!!” luffy shouted and [name] sighed, crouching down and offering his back.

“get on, before i change my mind,” [name] said. luffy took the chance with no hesitation, sighing in content at no longer walking in the hot sand.

“say, is it always like this?” chopper asked zoro and [name], seeing as luffy was quickly in a sleepy state the moment [name] started carrying him. “always climbing snowy mountains, crossing deserts…”

“ain’t that the truth? but, no, we’re a little out of the ordinary right now, then there’s our captain,” zoro sighed.

“i think i’ve gotten on board a not-so good pirate ship,” chopper groaned, feeling the heat attacking him once more.

“what a coincidence, i was just thinking the same thing to myself,” [name] grunted, adjusting the grip on luffy so that he wasn’t slipping off of his back, “why am i playing babysitter for this grown man?”

“ah, did you often have to watch out for luffy when you were younger, [name]?”

“yeah, plus the fact he’s younger than me too, doesn’t make the situation much better when he starts abusing his privilege,” [name] sighed, “he always knew i’d go in and save him, but i really hoped he’d grow out of that habit. especially now that he’s a real pirate!”

“so, it’s kind of like, you two are the most veteran people that have known luffy, right?” chopper asked, making zoro and [name] share a look with one another. “since zoro you’re the first mate and [name] you’ve known luffy since he was a kid…”

“no, you’re right,” [name] confirmed, nodding his head.

“but there’s not that much of a difference between us - all of us," zoro added.

“why did you join, zoro?”

“why do you ask?” zoro immediately countered, feeling an ulterior motive to the question.

“to me, since i just joined, it seems like everyone’s a maverick. especially you, zoro.”

��that’s true,” zoro said, a hint of a smile on his face, “in my case, things pretty much just turned out this way. i told [name] this story already, but me and luffy meeting just happened…not really something i sought after.

“but for everyone on board the ship, we’re just trying to get by. we differ in our goals with luffy, we’re trying to do what we want to do. on the outside, we have no teamwork at all. especially given our captain!”

“but…in the end, teamwork doesn’t matter at all,” [name] proudly grinned, “it’s just a mutual understanding and respect of each other,”

zoro glanced at [name] from his side view and subtly nodded his head, “it’s more so, giving something your all and turning to your crewmates and saying, “i did it! you’re up next! if you can’t do it, i’ll kill you!””

chopper and [name] sweat dropped at the explanation, but it seemed to make sense…at least a little bit, for both of them.

“but being by luffy’s side, it’s exhilirating, isn’t it?” [name] said, smiling so wide that his eyes were crinkling at the end, “for as troublesome, stupid, and reckless as he is, he makes things more interesting. and i’d rather live a stressful, adventure filled life than a boring, stale one!”

the reindeer blinked at [name]’s words, as did zoro, as the only word to describe what [name] said being: genuine. you could see it in the way he regarded luffy, the way he smiled whenever the captain was brought up, and just the way his demeanor turned generally more relaxed.

zoro grinned, familiar with that feeling and nodding in agreement.

“being by his side all the time’s given me another goal to strive for,” zoro said lightly.

“another goal?”

“sorry, dunno how to explain it,”

“and [name]? what’s your goal in being in luffy’s crew?”

[name] perked up at the question, opening his mouth to answer, if it weren’t for luffy’s head knocking into his own.

out of nowhere, luffy had woken up from his sleep and squinted off into the distance, “i see shade!!!”

he stayed attached to [name]’s back, thanks to his legs hugging [name]’s hips, and shot his arms forward. zoro and chopper paled, realizing what was about to happen.

“gum-gum…rocket!!!”

the four of them crashed into the cave — well, technically three since chopper landed more on the outskirts of the cave and face down in the sand.

[name] groaned, rubbing his head and standing upright. unfortunately, the moment he stood up, he began to fall through the sand below his feet.

“you’re fucking with me, right?” he rasped out, feeling the ground beneath him beginning to disappear. “luffy, i’ll kill you!!”

he fell through and was met with stone cold ground beneath him after his fall. he landed on his ass, cursing at the pain, before standing up.

“luffy! zoro! chopper!!” he shouted out, listening to the way his voice echoed off of the walls, “bastards!!”

and just like that, someone else came crashing down into the ruins.

“oh, i really did summon them,” [name] said in glee, running over and kicking the fallen figure, “zoro, get off your ass, come on!”

“don’t kick me!!” zoro said, swinging his sword every which way to try and cut up [name]. “of course your dumbass would be down here,”

“yeah and your idiotic self followed after me,” [name] exaggeratedly batted his eyelashes at zoro, making the swordsman move away, “say, are you that interested in me like that you’d really follow me to the ends of the earth, zoro?”

“shut the fuck up! what the fuck conclusion was that?!”

“wah, it’s so cold down here,” came luffy’s childish voice and it was only a second before they realized that he had followed them down into the hidden room.

“idiot! what are you doing here?! if you’re down here, then there’s a good chance we might lose chopper!” zoro shouted in frustration, his face glowing red from anger at his captain.

“well, we’re alright though because i saw him falling down here as well,” luffy easily explained, pointing at the direction of sand now falling into the space from a different entrance point, “see, he’s right there!”

“that’s a relief he’s fine,” [name] said, walking over and helping the reindeer up. with a quick tug, [name] got him standing on his two feet.  

“now, where exactly are we?” zoro said, scratching his eyes to get them to adjust to the darkness faster, “is it a dome?”

“seems like it,” [name] said, walking around and grunting when he stubbed his toe against some rock, “cunt!!” he shouted in pain, holding onto his foot.

he looked up and immediately punched the first thing he saw to let off some of the steam. his fist was stopped immediately by the rock, zero cracking forming on the surface.

and now he was just hopping around on one foot while his hand was caressing his knuckles.

“fucker!!” he said, helplessly hopping around in pain.

“idiot,” chopper and zoro said in a monotone voice.

“well, whatever, doesn’t matter where we are, let’s just stay here for a little longer,” luffy said, taking in the cold atmosphere with open arms.

“hold on, i recognize these picture letters,” chopper said, walking over to the stone that [name] had just stubbed his toe on and punched, “this is an ancient language,”

“i fucking hate history then,” [name] said, still blowing onto his knuckles to ease the pain.

“you can’t seriously be in that much pain from one punch!” zoro accused in a shout.

“no, zoro, you don’t understand, i’m nothing but a sensitive man,” [name] said in an exaggerated innocent tone, holding on his hand as he willed fake tears to spring to his eyes, “a man like me shouldn’t be so roughly handled!”

“wow, he’s a good actor,” chopper said, impressed with the show [name] was putting on.

“cheesy motherfucker,” zoro groaned, looking at [name] pathetically weep about his “injured” hand. “weren’t you the one to do that to yourself anyway?”

“details, details, details,” [name] said, shrugging, “won’t you kiss my pain away, zoro?”

“fuck off, for fucks’ sake!! get serious!!” zoro said, punching [name] down on the head, and then internally wondering what was he did in the past life to deserve a punishment as terrible as this.

“luffy, come on, get us out of here, the others are waiting for us, probably,” chopper said, deciding to be the one to collect their captain.

“what?! no, i don’t wanna leave, we just got here, i don’t wanna leave!” luffy whined, rolling back and forth on the ground like a child throwing a tantrum.

after zoro and [name] physically knocked some sense into luffy, he was then determined to get them out of the weird dome. he missed the opening of the hole zoro had fallen from, though, and instead sent a portion of the ceiling crashing down on himself.

“what the hell was that…” [name] said as he gazed at his hopeless captain.

“i missed because it was too small, it’s alright, this time i’ll get it,” luffy said in determination. and he did seem to get it for a second, but then the ceiling came crashing down once more and burying him in rubble.

“what [name] said - what the hell was that?!” zoro shouted in annoyance, “just grab onto the boulder above the cave and shoot us up from there!!”

it seemed luffy refused to listen to reason, though, instead destroying the hole even larger. the ceiling came crashing down tenfold and [name] shielded his head in preparation for something to crush them all to their deaths.

surprisingly, nothing had immediately injured them. and luffy was left walking over to some pillar and wrapping his stretchy arm around it, at least two dozen times.

“chopper turn little,” luffy commanded, “and everyone grab on!!”

[name] sighed, walking over and taking his place as luffy’s backpack. zoro’s arm came around his back, to support him and made sure he wouldn’t fall, whilst also grabbing onto luffy’s robe. [name] had a tight grip around luffy’s neck and on chopper’s clothes too.

and then they were spinning around the pillar, over and over and over again until they were shot up into the air. it felt as if they were flying. with how fast they were soaring through the sky and the wind beating against their faces, it definitely felt like they were flying.

but unlike most things that could fly, they had no way of landing. chopper cried out for what they were going to do, but luffy just shouted how he had no idea either.

[name] winced, holding onto luffy and chopper tight as they braced for impact. he felt zoro’s arm flex behind him to make sure he was really secure. and then they all bounced against the sandy ground a couple of times.

[name] spat out sand from his mouth, kicking himself up out of the sand and tried very hard to not murder luffy in cold blood. he walked over to chopper, easily pulling his smaller form out from the sand with one hand and placing him on his head.

then he made his way over to zoro and tugged him onto his feet, earning a grunt of thanks from the swordsman. chopper still seemed out of it so he made sure to keep him steady on his head to make sure he wouldn’t fall.

“i think i really did get on the wrong ship,” chopper rasped, still catching his breath.

“we’re on the same wavelength today because i was thinking the exact same thing,” zoro echoed, breathing heavily as he shook sand out from his hair.

“i think i might really kill him this time around,” [name] said under his breath, trying to quell his anger and not let it get the best of him.

“hey!!! guys, what are you doing all the way back there!!! we need to catch up with vivi,” luffy shouted, jumping up and down and waving his arms for them to hurry up.

“idiot,” [name] murmured softly, taking ahold of zoro’s wrist and leading them to luffy. “let’s just go, so he can shut up,”

the four walked together for a long time before chopper finally caught a whiff of nami’s perfume.

“it’s the way of the sunset, come on, luffy!” [name] said, unknowingly sending his captain into an excited running frenzy.

“hey!! guys, we’re coming!!” luffy cheered as if the rest of the crew could hear him.

they came up over a tall sand hill and on the other side of it, nami, sanji, usopp, and vivi were walking in a straight line. luffy was jumping up and down in excitement of finding the rest of the crew while chopper, zoro, and [name] were breathing heavily in exhaustion.

now that the crew was all back together, they were able to continue on their trek to yuba without worries. [name] adjusted the headpiece around him to cover his mouth and nose seeing as the wind was starting to pick the sand up even more.

on his back, usopp was resting and sleep talking about defeating crocodile. [name] smiled at the murmurs and kept his head up to see ahead.

“did we make it to yuba? i can’t really see with all this sand,” luffy said, making everyone squint at the small glimmer of light that in front of them.

“the city doesn’t look right…” vivi said, blinking a couple of times before stiffening and jumping off of lashes the camel. “it’s a sandstorm!! yuba is being hit by a sandstorm!”

just as they were about to arrive, a terrible sandstorm had to hit their destination. with a new urgency, the crew began rushing forward to see the affects of the sandstorm.

[name] cursed under his breath, adjusting his hold on usopp when he was finished running, and looked at the city. it was almost completely buried in sand, it looked just like the city they had come across at first.

“wasn’t this supposed to be an oasis city, vivi-chan?” sanji asked, making [name] step forward and look at the terrain.

he squinted very hard, focussing in on any sign of an oasis being present. vivi spoke with a strained voice. “the sand has raised the ground, meaning the oasis has been swallowed up,”

“there’s…very little of it left,” [name] said under his breath. “it could be saved…but it’d be hard,”

just as he said that, there was a sound of someone digging with a metal shovel. the crew looked over a couple of feet and saw an old man, trying his best too dig a trench, it looked like.

“you travelers must have had a hard journey in the desert. although our oasis has completely dried out, we still have some of the best inns ever! they’re the pride of our town, you see,” he croaked, looking completely exhausted in digging as he spoke. [name] furrowed his eyebrows in concern for the old man.

“we’re here to see the rebel army, are they not located in this town?” [name] asked, although seeing from how desolate the town was, the answer was a given.

what they didn’t expect was for the old man to go on a miniature rampage on them. he began throwing things at him, which [name] slapped away if they got too close to him or vivi.

“those rebel scum!! they abandoned this town long ago,” he informed them after his throwing was finished. vivi looked shocked at the news and a sense of dread was filling the crew’s minds, “they relocated to katorea,”

“huh? katorea? vivi, is that close by?” luffy asked innocently, making [name] smack him on the head. when his captain turned to him in annoyance, [name] only put his finger to his lips and pointed at vivi, his eyes screaming, “you just exposed the princess, dumbass!”

but vivi didn’t even seem to notice the slip up, only answering, “katorea, is a town that was near nanohana…”

“you’re fucking with me, right?” [name] asked, blinking as he processed the information. if they were in nanohana when they first set anchor down in alabsta, that means the rebel army was only a town away from the beginning.

“nanohana? then we wasted our time coming all the way out here,” zoro said gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest.

“oh! i met lashes in katorea,” chopper said in surprise. lashes began to “speak” and chopper translated it. the camel offhandedly said, “i was transporting goods for the rebel army and they were stationed in katorea,”

[name] threateningly began to unsheathe his sword, “you asshole, you didn’t say anything and we were wasting time this entire journey?! i’ll cut you up!! sanji, are you ready to cook camel meat?!”

“more than ready! i’m itching to kill this bastard too!!” sanji shouted, kicking into the camel’s side.

“why didn’t you say anything earlier!?” luffy screamed in frustration.

“whatever,” chopper said, translating for the rest of the crew what exactly the camel said, which only sent them into a bigger fury.

“wait, did you say, vivi? are you princess vivi?” the old man spoke up, walking up the sand trench he was building and reaching for the princess. [name] stepped forward, in between the old man and vivi, not about to take chances with the guy’s intentions.

“slow down there, gramps,” he sad in a warning tone, “so what if she is?”

the sword that was resting on [name]’s hips was very slightly shining in the moonlight, making the old man gulp to ease his nerves.

”vivi-sama, do you remember me?” he asked quickly, seeing how eager [name] was to spill some blood, “i don’t blame you if you don’t, after all, i lost a lot of weight,”

[name] looked at the man, not taking his eyes off of him. suddenly, from behind his protective position, vivi shot out and brought the old man into her arms, “toto-ojisan?!”

“you do remember!”

“huh? who’s that?” luffy and [name] asked in unison.

“long story,” nami said simply, a haze in her eyes as she realized who the man was. her and vivi were exchanging stories while they were riding on the back of lashes and the man in front of them was a pretty pivotal person in vivi's stories.

“vivi-sama, please stop those fools!!” the old man screamed, tears rushing out of his eyes. [name] averted his eyes, feeling ever so slightly bad for intimidating him earlier.

“toto-ojisan, don’t worry. we will stop the rebellion,” vivi assured him, handing him her handkerchief to dry his tears.

the crew decided to take shelter at yuba for the rest of the night. [name] was thankful because it meant they could be shielded from the cold air outside. and just as he was about to get comfortable, he noticed that their captain was missing again.

“huh? [name]? you’re not going to bed?” vivi asked, already comfortable under her blankets near nami.

”i will, i’m just gonna check in with luffy,” [name] said, waving his hand, “he might be caused the old man out there some unneccesary trouble,”

“beat him up if he is,” nami called out over her shoulder casually.

“yes, yes,” [name] said softly, waving his hand. when he made it to the outside trench, he saw the old man throwing sand over his shoulder and working tireslessly.

“aren’t your bones aching, gramps?” [name] asked, announcing his presence to the man.

“not at all, this is normal work for me!” toto said stubbornly.

“where’d the idiot go?”

“oh…he was digging right behind me…”

[name] jumped down into the sand pit and hummed in thought when he saw luffy was sleeping in the hole he had dug. he murmured the word “idiot” under his breath before wordlessly lifting him up out of the hole.

toto watched in confusion as a simple wave of [name]’s hand had the boy’s body lifting off of the ground. in a couple of seconds, luffy was then resting on the sand next to [name]’s feet.

“how did you do that?” toto asked cautiously, looking at the stoic look on [name]’s face.

“i have magical powers,” [name] said childishly, wiggling his fingers around as if he were to cast a spell.

“not funny, young man,” toto said, unimpressed with the behavior coming from [name].

“hm, i’ll get him inside and then i’ll come out and help you look for water,” [name] said, picking luffy up with ease and holding him bridal style, “i think if you moved a little bit more to the left, though, you’ll be able to hit water sooner than you think,”

and with that being his last bit of advice to the old man, he walked back into the inn where everyone else was sleeping. dropping luffy onto a straw bed and covering him with a blanket was easy. he gently took of luffy’s hat, to not ruin it, and placed it close by for him to find in the morning.

when he came back out of the inn, he saw the old man did take his advice and was digging from the surface again.

“you don’t have to help me,” toto said, about to refuse the help, but [name] shook his head. the pirate held his hand out to the old man, urging toto to hand him the shovel.

“let me dig, i can do it better than you anyway,” he joked, enjoying the pissed off look on toto’s face. wordlessly, the old man handed him the shovel and took a seat on the side.

quickly, [name] got to work in finding water. it was deep, very, very, deep, but it was there. and he would hit it before the sun came up if he worked hard and with no breaks.

"has vivi always been so reckless?" [name] curiously asked, looking over his shoulder for a moment.

his company grinned at the question, "yes! she never cared about her status as princess as child and insisted to be friends with even the common folk. she would always get herself into trouble," there was a pause and then the man spoke again in a shaky tone, "but now that she's grown into a young woman - i can't help but worry for her and her safety!"

"well, there's no need to worry anymore ojisan!" [name] grinned, wiping away his sweat, "with the strawhats here vivi won't ever get hurt again. we're gonna help her save this country!"

the man looked at him with furrowed brows, "what makes you so confident? you travellers have just arrived in this country - we have been struggling for years."

"it's cause you guys didn't have us," [name] easily and cockily replied. this made the old man laugh to his heart's content - whether it be from amusement at his confidence or in mockery, [name] didn't know. nor did he need to. he'd keep his end of his promise and protect vivi as she saved this desert country.

toto wanted to stay up and keep [name] some sort of company, but eventually his eyes were beginning to droop in exhaustion. [name] laughed at the sleepy look on toto’s face.

with the motivation of making the man’s day when he woke up, [name] began working even harder.

sweat was dripping from every crevice of his body, his muscles were begging him to stop from how they ached, but he kept his main goal in mind. and when he finally hit some sort of watery sand, he felt himself almost begin to laugh.

he wiped his face, grimacing at the gritty feel of sand on his skin, and pushed his hair aside. his hair, which was usually tied in a neat, small ponytail, was completely unfurled and shadowing his face.

he sighed, continuing to dig to get deeper into the water supply. he pulled out a small cannister that was resting on his hip, collecting water for himself first, and then deciding to go back up for more cannisters to hold the water.

when he finally drained as much water as possible, he left the cannisters to rest near toto. he smiled as the man’s expressions were moving in time with whatever dreams he was having. [name] carried him inside the inn with ease before collapsing onto his own bed, which was near chopper.

he grabbed ahold of the reindeer and kept him close, holding him tight for some sense of warmth. chopper didn’t seem to mind, cuddling closer into [name]’s skin in his sleep.

and despite [name] only catching less than a handful hours of sleep, it was still pleasant.

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[ .ᐟ ] DID U GUYS SEE THAT ZORO AND [name] MOMENT??? (zoro flexing his arm around [name] to make sure he was secure, so romantic right guys?!) WOOWWW I THINK THEYRE SO IN LOVE RIGHT NOW WOOWWWWW EVERYONE CHEER (its going to take so long for these two to even remotely progress im fucking DEAD) 

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taglist (lmk if u want to be tagged ! <3 :

@skullr0se , @strawberrii-tea, @triangulartriangles, @anotherlovefool, @haratatsu, @sinmp, @3v37773, @taru-nami, @disc0dild0s