#only true friends get to know that shit because fuck everyone else anyway

[apple-os]

hey so i probably wont be active on this account for a good while ive got some people out there i want to entirely avoid and i dont trust that this acc is safe anymore

so if my moots want my new tumblr [or my cara or discord] lmk

hope u all r doing okay o.o

[0luv9]

can't move on || mattheo riddle

Summary: He was done fucked, a weak man on his knees for her, mad for her, in love with her and funny enough she didn't know. Him sleeping around isn't helping him though.

Beware: angst, fluff (?), minimal plot, smoking, drugs, alcohol, she/her pronouns, second person used as well, miscommunication, misunderstandings, excessive use of swear words, both reader and Mattheo assume the worst, happy ending.

Words: 4.025k

Mattheo Riddle is in deep shit. His feelings have dug him a deep hole, a hole so deep that he could bury himself a hundred times over and still not be anywhere near the surface. He is so in love with you. And you being so fucking oblivious, mistake his advances for him being friendly. It's funny because when has he ever done something friendly? He's not even friendly to his friends, he insults them as a greeting for fucks sake. It's ridiculous how clueless you are, it was endearing at first but now it's just painful for him to watch you go on dates, that too every date with a different guy.

He thinks you've fucked them all, afterall it's him, Mattheo Riddle, he only thinks in extremes, if you've been on a date with some dude, you ofcourse had fucked him because who wouldn't do you. He resorted to the same ways, fucking his frustration out but instead of feeling satisfied, he would feel relieved for a moment and then his frustration would grow more and more, never coming close to being satisfied. He thought he could just fuck it all out, that he could just forget you, that he could just hate you. It became a routine for him, he got rougher and rougher with the girls he slept with, reaching his own high became harder and harder. It was all because of you, 'cause you couldn't see his love and make him a lover.

His reputation was worsening, his grades started slipping, he started ignoring you, becoming angry easily, snapping at anyone and everyone. Fucking girls left and right, every day was the same and he wondered why the hell he couldn't find a solution to all his problems. His smoking habits became worse, one cigarette turned into two, two turned three and now he was smoking one pack a day. His life was fucked, he could no longer think for himself, the thoughts of you with someone else corrupted his mind at all times. Everyone could see him ruining his life, he couldn't care less, he didn't give a shit about the names he was being called, most of them were true anyway.

…

Tonight was like every other Slytherin party night, except for the fact that he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol, all he wanted was a drunk hookup but he had slept with most of the girls in the room and he couldn't bring himself to repeat them over. He sighed, walking off to a secluded balcony, pulling out a cigarette, it was boring, life had become boring.

"Mattheo," he nearly jerked his head in the direction of your voice, it's been so long since he's heard it. All of it coming back to him, all the feelings he was trying to get rid of came right back, knocking at his heart. He's looking for the sweet smile, the one you'd always give him when you'd talk to him but all you did was frown at him, looking at him like the onlookers who gossiped about him and it fucking hurt. "Yes darling," he greeted you like nothing was wrong, before you would've smiled at his cheesy nicknames but now you grimaced at his hoarse voice and stepped back, he quickly looked away, just like that he blew off his last chance, he couldn't face it, he couldn't see you walk away from him, he physically couldn't.

"Riddle-" "Don't, don't call me that," he whispered, it was pathetic, he knows it too but that doesn't stop him, he couldn't hear you call him that. "Mattheo, I am Mattheo," he breathed out like an affirmation to himself, as though reminding himself of the person he's losing, dropping his cigarette and putting it out with his shoe. There it is, he's doing it again, acting how you'd want him to act, you disapproved of his smoking habits, you never told him to stop though, just so you know, he would stop if you only asked but you never did. You never asked anything of him, making the friendship feel one-sided, never wanting to bother him, you didn't do that with your other friends, you were openly asking them for favours albeit small, still favours, that's how friends are, looking out for eachother but no, you never expressed it, he just had to read into it. It made him feel as though he was your friend, just for the name sake, wow- he couldn't even be your friend.

He closed his eyes trying to contain himself, taking a hit from the burning cigarette, his hands were trembling, he was hurt, he could never be with you, you were making it clear. For the first time he got an actual sign of rejection and he just couldn't take it. "Riddle." It was still your voice, coming from his side, he slowly turned, there you were, standing next to him, looking at him with concern, giving him the slightest bit of hope, making his heart pound against his chest. He simply stared at you this time, unable to think of a response because you called him by his last name, you never did that. You didn't speak either, both staring at eachother, him with everything unsaid, sadness, anger, hope, longing, love, every fucking thing while you looked at him with worry painted all over your face. Mattheo hated to have people worry about him, noone was obligated to do so and he didn't want anyone to do it but right now, he didn't seem to mind, your attention was on him, worried about him. You finally looked away, placing your glass on the railing, alcohol with a lollipop in the glass, a typical you thing.

"alright, Mattheo," a small smile was tugging at your lips at his actions, "tell me, what's going on?" He didn't have anything to say, what would he say anyway? Upon not receiving an answer you sighed and continued, "Draco was telling me how different you've been-" he scoffed loudly interrupting you, ofcourse this is what it is, Malfoy sending you to talk to him, to scold him like everyone else, ofcourse you wouldn't come to him on your own, he was so fucking worthless in your eyes. “Don’t do that Mattheo-“ “Yeah? Why not? Coming here to scold me like everyone else, you know what, surprise surprise, it’s nothing I haven’t heard before.” He was angry, you come to talk to him after all these days and it was to tell him, that he’s bad, that he’s wrong, yes, he started it by ignoring you but you didn’t even make an effort to talk to your “friend” while he was away, it pained him to know that you didn’t even care to check up on him.

“No, I am worried Mattheo, this is not okay for you,” you moved closer, shaking your head trying to find the words, “I tried Mattheo, to catch you, to talk to you but you were always turning away, ignoring me, I couldn’t even get a proper look at you these weeks. Draco was joking about you smoking two a day, one for each girl you slept with, it was then but now, a whole pack a day? I tried to get to you, tried to see what’s been hurting you, but all I saw was your back towards me.” You paused, looking around clearly frustrated, “I thought maybe you didn’t want to talk about it, so I stopped trying but I am sorry, I can’t help myself, I care about you Mattheo and I hate to see you like this,” you looked up at him, hoping he’d understand but he only stared at you blankly, maybe you were wrong to care, he clearly didn’t want to be bothered, you sighed yet again, clearly there was no point, you could only wish for him to be better.

You mustered up all the courage you could, moving closer to the brunette who still hadn’t said a thing, “I am sorry for bothering you, I hope you win whatever battle it is that you are fighting, just know that I care and I can’t help but be worried when you are hurting, sorry if it is selfish that I want you to be better, I won’t disturb you anymore” you gave him a small smile, going up on your tiptoes planting a small kiss on his cheek, lingering for a moment, holding his hand in both of your own giving it a hard squeeze before letting go. It pained you to see that he didn’t seem to care about his own life, making you feel useless for doing the same, he was dear to you, you didn’t want to let go of him but clearly he didn’t want the same, who were you to deny him of anything? So, you let go, taking the moment in before walking away, the tears were ready to fall, you weren’t going to let him see that, you didn’t want him to see how pent up you were over him when he couldn’t even bring himself to care.

Mattheo could feel his chest burn, he could feel the sting in his heart at the sight of you walking away, his knees felt weak, you cared? You tried to reach out? Yes you did, of course you did, you weren’t the ugly person he tried to paint you as, he wanted to hate you so bad, he wanted you to be wrong, he wanted you to scold him, he wanted you to hate him just so he could move on but no, he could never move on from you, even if you spat his way he’d love you. ‘Sorry if it is selfish-’ he fucking wants you to be selfish, he wants you to be selfish about him. Only if he wasn’t busy imagining you with other guys, maybe he would’ve noticed that you smile a bit more around him, just maybe he’d see your eyes looking out for him. Maybe then he would’ve seen the look in your eyes, one similar to his, but he was a fool, he’d always be unworthy of your love, you wouldn’t love someone like him, he ruled that possibility out the very moment he fell in love with you, thereby in his mind even if you actually loved him, you didn’t because he couldn’t see it.

He called after you, he couldn’t see you walk away, not when he has so much to say. You turned around, he saw tears in your eyes, he felt like dying, it was him who made you cry, if he didn't hate himself before, he clearly did right then. With two wide strides he was infront of you, holding your face, wiping away your tears, "please don't walk away from me," he muttered, trying to get you to look up at him, you look up at him with stars in your eyes, taking his breath away, 'I want you so bad' he thinks to himself but it's false, no, he doesn't simply want you, he fucking needs you like the air you take away from him, when you look at him like that- hazy eyed, making him think that you love him but he knows you don't, he knows you don't love the guys you go on dates with, he knows you don't love the guys you sleep with, in his eyes you love to care but don't care to love, he'll be one of those guys, if it means you'll have him, even if it is for one night.

He was staring at you, looking for a sign, waiting for you to push him away but you just look at him with glossy eyes, making him weak, unable to contain himself he presses his lips against yours, you hiss pulling back, the bitter taste of smoke invading your senses, your reaction hurts him, he couldn't even be one of your guys, that's how worthless he is, his grip loosens, he tastes you on his lips, sweet cherry- the lollipop still sugary on your lips. Then you surprise him, fisting his collar, pulling him down, soft lips on his, like honey against his smoke. He loses it then and there, his hand comes up to hold your face, the other low on your back pulling you flush against him. It was heaven, eyes closed, moving in sync, savouring every second, he could feel his skin tingle, his body burn, it was pathetic how you could bring him to feel so much with the simplest of touches, and now you were kissing him, better than any dream or fantasy, it's real, he reminds himself, frowning as he concentrates trying to capture every single detail, of you against him.

Mattheo walks you back to the railings, not letting go of you even for a second. You pull away as the cold metal makes contact with your body, the sting seeping through the thin layer of your clothes. Still impossibly close practically breathing the same air, then the situation dawns upon you, you look up at Mattheo in horror. This is what has become of your love for him, he's using your attraction towards him to get you into bed, just like he did with other girls. There was no difference in their relationship with him and yours with him, evidently so. You loved kissing him but you hated the fact that it meant everything to you but all it was to him was a one night stand, your dignity would not allow it, even though you wanted him so badly. "I'm- I'm sorry but I can't," you quickly walk off, not looking back this was humiliation, you felt embarrassed.

One moment you were there kissing him and the next you were gone, he fucking hates this because he doesn't know what to do or what made you push him away. You gave him hope when you kissed him but shattered it when you walked away, you were confusing him. Why'd you kiss him like that if you wanted to let go? His hands reach out to pull at his hair, "Fuck" he grits out, it was frustrating not knowing what to do, knowing he has done something wrong. But for the most part, he doesn't know how you feel, you kissed him like you felt something but you walked away like it was nothing. He's over it.

…

He's absolutely not over it. He couldn't even stick to the plan for five seconds, images of you in his arms plagued his mind. He could only cherish that moment, he felt more alive in those few seconds than he ever did, his lips are still tingling, it's the next morning and his head is still in clouds. Mattheo for once, feels human- he feels like going to class again just so he could see you. The wound of your rejection was still fresh in his heart but so was the memory of your lips against his in his mind.

He could handle the professors' taunts, he infact muted them out and zeroed in on your face, you were avoiding him, he could see it, trying so hard just like he did the past few weeks. He saw himself in you for a moment but then you started talking to some Hufflepuff dude next to you, smiling at him so pretty, his blood started burning hot when he saw the guy touch you. You did nothing to push him away, pfft- ofcourse he wasn't Mattheo fucking Riddle that you'd push him away.

Mattheo was practically burning holes into you skull as he took a seat in the very back. Only if he wasn't so overtaken by jealousy he'd see that your smile didn't reach your eyes as you laughed at the Puff's joke, that your reactions were simply polite, a mere distraction from the pinching of your heart. You didn't want to be one of the girls he slept with, didn't want to be discarded after being used.

He couldn't even be one of your guys, he fucking wanted it to be him so bad just to have your for a night, just so you could see him in a different light, just so you'd know that he loved you. He'd gladly be discarded by you.

…

Mattheo has been searching for you, for about an hour now, you were minx- rushing out of the class before he could catch upto you. You were no where to be seen, he was actually getting worried. He was just about to enter the dungeons when he saw Pansy near the entrance. She'd know your whereabouts, she was a close friend of yours. She'd help him too, because she was his friend as well, right? Or had he destroyed every relationship he had the past few weeks. "Pans, a moment please" "oh hey Mattheo," she greeted him with a smile, that's a good sign, "umm- do you know where-" there he was, polite stuttering fucktard, "oh I know where she is," He didn't even tell her who he was looking for, confusion taking over his features, "I saw you looking at her in class, you like her don't you?" Was he that obvious? If so, why couldn't she see it? "Yeah," he finally admitted it to someone else, it was out there now, he felt some weight lift off of his shoulders, there was no denying to it, he loved her and he doesn't care if he gets laughed at for it but then his heart stops at her next words. "She's on a date with some Hufflepuff, in Hogsmeade," her voice was sympathetic, hurt was painted all over his face.

They were standing there in awkward silence for a couple of minutes before she broke it, heading towards the entrance, "You know you should tell her," she gave him a small smile, she patted his back ready to slip into the entrance, he stopped her "Why? Did she say something about me?" His voice was full of hope, hoping that maybe she had confessed to her friend just like he did right then but to add onto his sorrow, Pansy shook her head, he let his head hang low, moving his hand over his face, scoffing bitterly at the situation he was in, "but you should still tell her, at least you'll be satisfied knowing that you did something about it than do nothing." She shrugged walking in, leaving him there to think about her words.

She is right. He has to know, to know how you feel, he has to talk to you, has to let you know how he feels because in his heart, there's hope that you may like him back because you kissed him like you did. Mattheo wants to confirm that it wasn't his delusions that rendered your lips to move against his in adoration, something more than just physical. He has to hold you again in his arms-

He didn't even have to walk far away to find you, walking alone in the empty corridor but you turn around as you see him. Mattheo won't let you do that this time, he's onto you within seconds grabbing your wrist and pulling you back. "What-" "Please don't ignore me-" "I am not!" You sound defensive, taking your hand back, folding them as you look at him as though he is some lowlife human, there's a similar hurt in your eyes, one he knows a bit too well. "Yes you are, please don't try to deny it," he says slowly and carefully, he doesn't want you to walk away, "what do you want Mattheo?" You are annoyed, you stretch out his name showing your impatience. He takes his sweet time though, taking your hands in his, they feel cold, snatching away the warmthness of the action, "Why did you walk away? Yesterday?" "Why? Is there some rule against it-""no no ofcourse not-" both of you interrupting each other, you were frustrated, what was he trying to do? Did his ego take such a huge hit that you didn't want to sleep with him, like those girls he used and discarded? "Tell me why is it that you care? It's not a huge deal to you, you can have anyone else to sleep with you, it shouldn't matter that one girl decided to walk away when you have tens and hundreds lining up-" "WHAT?" He was looking at as though you were saying something ridiculous, "I cared about our relationship enough not to ruin it but you had to be there, trying to use me like you use the other girls and then discard me-" "STOP!" He holds your face in his hands, intense gaze setting you ablaze, "I fucking care, don’t think otherwise, I care because it's you, you could never be them-"

"wow- am I so worthless and unattractive in your eyes that you don't even-" "Wait, it should be me saying all of this, about you and the guys you on dates with, the guys you take to bed-" "What guys-" you both were now screaming at eachother, it was overwhelming, having to be vulnerable and admit your feelings and not understand what the person in front of you is saying. "I have not once slept with the guys I went on dates with, I'm in love with you for fucks sake but I got tired of waiting for you to love me," What.

He fucked up.

"Fuck, fuck-" his knees hit the ground as he covers his face with his hands, he's ruined all his chances by being an assuming dickhead. Heavens goodness- "FUCK!" He groans into his palms, not being able to digest what you had just said, he feels ecstatic that you love him but he hates that he's ruined his chances with you, "Mattheo-" "Fuck, I am so sorry, I've been a fool, a fucking idiot-" he pulls you down, grabbing your hands, crying because he doesn't know any other way to express it. He has lost his chance all because he let jealousy get the best of him, took illogical steps to overcome it. "I love you, I fucking am in love with you," he grips your hands tight, shaking them as he speaks, unable to control his very physical reaction, "Mattheo what-" "I thought that I could fuck it all out, fuck all the feelings away but no you were always on my mind, not just you but you with someone else, happy. I thought maybe I could resort to your ways, thought maybe I could sleep around then I'd get rid of my feelings, afterall you seemed happy doing it but you never- FUCK! I am so fucking sorry, I love you-" you kiss him, he sure was an idiot to think that you could just flip a switch and "unlove" him, what kind of love would that be? You hated to admit it, you loved him even when he was sleeping with so many girls, you loved him before he did that, a few weeks were nothing to make you hate him.

It was brief kiss, enough to silence him, tears were still running down his face- he was a heartbroken man on his knees afterall- they were only a sign of his regret, then he was at it again, apologising, "stop Mattheo, you are foolish if you think that I'll love one moment and not love you the next-" "but you don't deserve it, not after what I did-" "let me decide that. Do you love me?" Your ask is serious, so he answers you with utmost sincerity, his words soft, full of truth "I love you, more than I think I can handle," he looks down, you don't let him as you wrap your hands around his neck, pulling him close, "Learn to handle it then, I am not going anywhere." For the first time in his life, does Mattheo experience pure bliss, you are a sin against his lips, he pulls you closer like a prayer because if there's a god above, he'd pray for you to be his.

...

[corollaservant]

Night in the Net // Shigaraki x f! reader (18+)

Synopsis: You find yourself stranded in one hell of a sexist environment: the small town's internet café. Shigaraki's on the night shift. (3.6k)

Warnings: sex with Shiggy basically, mild degradation and misogyny from our fav incel, dom!Shiggy with a twist (no quirk obviously), use of “dollface” (i like it)

A/N: No dark themes here, peace n luv. Also.. yeah he is always linked to some gaming/electronic business ik!! but I like the trope/hc/almost canon.

You'd never imagine this was how your night would end.

Why are you there again? Right, your friends wanted to go to that after party, as if the club wasn't enough. What was supposed to be a night out ended up with you in the local internet café (the only after hours spot) while your friends decided to go to a house party with loud techno music, which definitely wasn’t your vibe. You and your friends lived close and would often call a taxi on your way home, money wasn’t enough for you to ride solo today though—you prayed in times like these that you at least had a job; you wouldn’t have to rely on anyone then. 

You knew pretty much everyone there, it’s not like the town had more than ten thousand residents and considering the age group and schools you’d all gone to, the internet café only had a few unknown members. On today’s shift was none other than Tomura of course, that guy was taking up as many shifts as his body would allow him to, apparently there was this rumor a family member was in crucial condition and they were in need. Tomura Shigaraki was one of these people you had branded as incel. Though hardworking (he kept a house of his own, cleaning and doing all chores by himself while providing for whomever he had), you still considered the guy as one. Now—you know the term is heavy, matter of fact, quite offending and serious as an allegation but it’s not like there weren’t rumors. Rumors he’d bash women and call them prostitutes, try to sleep with girls and trash them to his friends a day later, hating them for anything they did and claiming true love didn’t exist nowadays because “all women are sluts, who need money and validation.” Plus, he worked at the local internet café (should be enough reason), engaging in heated conversations with his friends and fellow streamers. God, one look in their chats and you'd get as violent as possible— (not much, you'd discovered it the hard way). Thus, it was no surprise that when you enter the place, you hear whispers and scoffs.

‘’The hell are you doing here?’’ A voice was heard from within, the café had the computer screens up front, a bar and a couch with TV in the back. Tomura was occupied in the designated bar the place had (you often wondered what kind of needs these people had—all they ever consumed was energy drinks and pre-packaged meals, takeouts were for reasons of competitive market prohibited).

‘’Just dropping by for a couple of hours, will leave soon.’’ You sigh as you take a seat on the couch, not bothering to talk to anyone, it wasn’t like they cared anyway. Loud noise and laughter can be heard all around, a couple of guys swearing and some younger boys excitedly standing above their screens. The store had a 16+ policy, but of course, no one ever checked so kids could practically stare unattended. Tomura also encouraged younger boys to play, such a piece of shit, you think, getting them to learn young. 

‘’Oh my fucking God, a slut just joined!’’ You hear some guy swear, presumably because a girl joined their online server. These guys were so disgusting, you cringe, it was no wonder they were celibate without wanting it. You stand up, you need to kill some time and you're feeling bored, you think about starting a fight with Tomura, how else could you have a little bit of fun?

You weren’t ever necessarily afraid of the guy, even though you had to admit, he looked intimidating. Quite tall with a pale complexion, ashy, dull hair and scars across his face; no one actually knew much about him and whether he was troubled, it’s not like he ever showed to work beaten up or high and usually kept a low profile. The only frightening thing this man had was his smile, it terrified you sometimes as it looked downright evil. 

‘’Getting them to learn young, huh?’’ You ask him, he’s washing up some cups from the previous round of gross gaming guys, who have now left.

‘’What?’’ He responds, not bothering to look up. 

‘’How to not get women, I mean.’’ You sigh as he huffs in annoyance.

‘’You should be grateful I let a female in my store in the first place.’’ He retorts, but doesn’t seem very angry, just ironic. Usual.

My store (you decide to skip over 'female') sounds funny but you choose not to comment on it. 

‘’So how long until you guys close?’’ You don't bother with the vocabulary—it’s routine at this point. It also never ends well and you had a great night so far, why ruin it now?

‘’Two hours.’’ 

‘’Mind if I sit on the couch? I’ll be quiet I promise’’ You ask—technically beg, as you see no other options.

‘’Ugh.. yeah I mind. There’s some guys wanting to use it, I have a group for GTA on the PS5.’’

‘’Seriously? People still play that?’’ You whine but force yourself to continue.

 ‘’Can I sit with you then?’’ It takes strength—but you say it regardless. You came to terms with the fact he was your last resort minutes ago.

‘’Sure. But you need to make yourself useful. Here, take this.’’ He hands you a wet sponge, ‘’Wash these up... carefully, while I go clean the floors.’’ He orders, as if you’re part of the staff (and new on the job apparently.)

‘’Do you actually want me to wash freaking dishes? I just came here to chill, I don’t even bother anyone!’’ You start feeling annoyed with the chores, you aren’t 16 and he isn’t your mom.

‘’You can always leave.’’ The running tap stops and he turns to you, practically shoving the wet gloves on your chest. 

‘’Or...you can stop being a brat and be of use during your stay, I have two hours left.’’ He smiles, that same smile that makes your skin crawl and blood boil as he moves away.

‘’Fuck! My dress, you asshole!’’ A wet patch now covers the too short dress as you glance at the time on your phone. 

Two hours. Two hours until your friends leave and he closes up anyway.

-

Tomura was at least true to his words. Within two insufferable hours of having to listen to appalling conversations between men (hardly to be considered as such), plate washing and the toilet being constantly occupied, the last customers get up to leave. 

You dry your hands and plop down the couch exhausted.

‘’Finally.’’ You exhale checking your phone, your friends hadn’t given you any life signs in the meantime, so you decide to patiently wait, they’d message eventually. Tomura is done sweeping the nasty floors from crumbs and dried Monster remnants, which he still has to mop (for the fourth time, you note and you've only been there some hours). You notice how restless he seems—the guy has been running the whole night after ignorant customers, who had not once shown basic respect for the order of the place yet never complained. Truly a shame he has such a misogynistic mindset, you think. He could get women, if he wanted to. 

It’s around 6:30 AM, when he presses a button to close the store's roll-up shutters halfway. Small light outside makes its way in but the place is still relatively dark, as he places the mop near the wall and takes a seat next to you.

‘’Fuuck, I’m so tired.’’ He sighs, making sure to spread his legs on the couch as much as he can, not caring (of course) about you also sitting on it. 

You always branded Tomura as an incel, that you knew about. But despite that, you now can’t help but feel for him, not knowing much about him at the same time. Sure, he technically isn’t the nicest guy but a look around would show you that he tries enough for a job kicking his ass. You find yourself sympathizing with a man, whose ideals you hate and try to brush these thoughts off.

‘’And why the fuck am I an incel anyway?’’ He asks, his head rests on the couch and his eyes are closed, he is scrunching severely—almost threatening to fall down. And he manspreads. A lot.

‘’W-well– I..’’ You never thought he’d caught on to that, stammering to stand your ground as you continue. ‘’Well, there have been rumors about you.’’ You say, but it doesn’t come off as confident as you’d hoped for. You also realize, it sounds kind of stupid.

‘’Reaaally? And you made sure to believe them, right?’’ His tone’s laced with irony but the way he talks like he whispers in a raspy voice doesn't annoy you anymore. It makes you more... uncomfortable? On the edge? Excited?...what?

‘’It’s not like you don’t claim it yourself.’’ You retort, finally finding some courage. You notice him looking at you as you awkwardly shuffle in your seat.

‘’All I’ve ever said was that I think women are good for nothing. And I still believe that, but I wouldn’t waste more of my time on that.’’ The statement makes you roll your eyes.

‘’How can you generalize a whole group of people, who are literally in no way inferior to you, you can’t tell me you’ve tried—’’ 

‘’Listen dollface, unless you want to change my mind there’s no reason to fuss that much, my opinion won’t change.’’

Unless you want to change my mind?

‘’I-I don’t.’’ You stammer, because the answer and pet name (dollface??) takes you by surprise and he laughs.

‘’Relax, you branded me an incel.’’ He jokes, ‘’don’t want the rape allegations on me too.’’ 

The more he talks, the more your mind races and you curse yourself. He seems..funny? He has a mole under his lips—fuck, it looks cute...He also looks good so (stupid as it is, yes!) you silently want his attention. Why can’t he just look you in the eyes more?

This is so wrong. He must've noticed your lost gaze as he speaks up.

‘’Wanna watch a movie?’’ He proposes and you nod, anything is better than the silence hanging in the air. Silence you caused. For thinking... things about him. 

Of course Tomura ends up choosing the most depressing film anyone can possibly watch in an internet café at 6 AM, Fallen Angels, and the dramatic cuts make it hard for you to concentrate. He at a certain point leans closer to you but you justify it, how else would he be able to see?

During this one scene, the woman pleasured herself with her legs closed, rubbing together and that’s when you feel a soft hand touch on your thigh. The dress you wore rode up, because your legs rested on the table ahead so it gave him the space he needed. The movement made you tingle and your core involuntarily contracted. The smooth fingers teasingly trailed up and down your leg, from your knees to your inner thighs. You didn’t want to look at him—he was too close and the scene seemed endless. But…he went on about it as if nothing was happening. 

Without saying a word, he carried on. A pad of his finger tip dangerously close to your now heated entrance, the images flashing before your eyes lewd, his hand tempting and threatening to reach your already soaked cunt—all this while the two of you hadn’t even shared a kiss. But he doesn't stop, looking ahead and acting like everything’s fine, until he touches your lower lips and you hiss, his finger traces the wet spot over your underwear while you try to move and speak up. 

‘’W–what are y—’’

‘’Shh..’’ is all he says. 

You want to tell him no. But no to what? You like the feeling of his two fingers against your folds. His palm moves your panties to the side and he stuffs them inside—they dampen from the fluids. How is he that quick? You can’t form a response but you’re about to ask him why—

‘’All that and I haven’t even kissed you.’’ He murmurs, gaze still fixated on the television ahead as you moan, when he slowly pumps them within your walls. Fuck, are you turned on by this?

‘’P-please..’’ You whisper, turning to look at him and for the first time, his eyes are removed from the stupid TV, a sly smile on his features as he tears away his hand.

‘’What is it? Want the incel to kiss you? Maybe even fuck you to prove a point?’’ He says and you frown.

‘’I—no, I have to go.’’ You get up, fixing (lowering) your dress—you have nowhere to go but you’ll figure it out eventually. You think staying longer only plays into his cruel intentions and whilst you can’t deny the pleasure he could give you, your pride’s in the way.

‘’You’re not going anywhere.’’ A wet hand clasps around your wrist and brings you on his lap, as he grins; you seem confused at the sensation. You are hiding the TV screen but he couldn't care less, he never paid attention to the movie.

‘’Feel the stain you left, too?’’ He says as he brings your face closer with the sticky palm grabbing you by the hair. You softly moan, noticing the small mole up close and feeling a bulge poke where your bodies meet. You sway your hips in a silent effort to have him initiate a kiss, you feel desperate and curse yourself again internally. He can only smile.

(You were so clueless, walking around in that slutty dress earlier—making him hard like that, did you even know it?)

He’s quick to kiss you, eager for more already, as mouths clash, teeth collide, the need you both have exceeds proper manners. You sloppily grind against him, the friction from a long outline beneath you makes it hard to think.

‘’I’m guessing, you’re really fucking the incel then.’’ He half smirks as he grabs you and repositions you to sit on his now fully hard cock that throbs in his pants; he lifts your dress above your ass and guides your hips sluggishly back and forth—he’s tormenting you and he enjoys it to the fullest.

‘’T-tomura..p-please.’’ You whine, the urge to have him inside you makes you blabber.

‘’Please what?’’ He slides a hand behind your waist, lowering it to find your slit from behind, his fingers pet your cunt and you moan. Loudly. He is tugging at your panties, the fabric annoys him and he wants full access and the words. The words to prove his point.

‘’P–please...fuck me already!’’ You breathe out and he groans to the sound of your voice. 

The ironic remark he prepared evaporates as he quickly pushes you back, just enough to not fall off his lap and quickly unzips his pants, thanking god for not wearing a belt. 

His pants and underwear are sloppily moved down his knees, as his cock jumps with a pop on his lower abdomen, stiff with a weeping tip. Pretty veins throb around it as your eyes widen.

Shit, he’s big, can you take him?

‘’I’d ask for a nice blowjob, dollface, but wouldn’t want the feminists after me.’’ He says as he brings you close, kissing you yet again, a string of spit runs down your jaw, as your hands roam his tangled, uncombed hair. 

He positions you on his cock, one hand snakes around your waist while the other one clings to the back of your scalp and you’re swiftly lifted by the head and pushed down on him, as you let out a scream.

‘’Shut the fuck up.’’ He hisses, quickly looking around, the sensation from almost his whole length makes you tremble, he feels too full, too painful...too good.

‘’Shit, c’mon now you got this.’’ He encourages as you hesitantly move up and down his cock, gripping his shoulders and looking at him; he seems more concentrated on the sensation than your body, staring at you while you wrap around his length.

‘’Fuck...dollface, this too much for ya?’’ He tries not to grunt and you give your best not to cry, each moment that goes by turning the initial pain to pleasure—your cunt adjusts slowly and bit by bit to his girth. 

‘’T-tomura... y-yes..it’s too much!’’ You whine, sweat forms in your forehead as his hand finds your swollen clit and circles it while your nails dig deeper in his shirt.

‘’You can take it.’’ He says, he feels you squeezing him in, you bounce with dedication on his legs, making the couch squeak as if on some sex tape—you want to bring yourself even closer. So nasty, aren't you? Acting righteous, only to fuck yourself on his cock like a desperate whore.

‘’I-ugh-p-please..’’ You try to speak but he secures his hand around your torso and sinks (lower than before) down the couch. Two strong hands force you to stay still in the air while he drills himself into you at a steady pace, kind of sloppily too. Both of you moan, the position gives equal pleasure, your clit bumps on his groin and his cock reaches your g-spot with ease.

‘’S–Shit, you’re squeezing way too much, haven’t you been fucked like this before?’’ He sounds annoyed but the stammer in his voice betrays him.

Not like this, you want to say but can’t really speak the words. Your weight falls entirely on him, he doesn’t mind one bit—he loves it actually, this skin on skin contact as he guides you on his cock, it feels surreal. He hits soft and spongy spots inside while you slowly fall apart. 

‘’T-Tomura right there..I ugh—I'm close!’’ The sensation overwhelms you, his eyes are still fixated on your face, yeah I can tell, he thinks. He gets off on your desperation, mouth parted all for him? Your eyes threaten to spill by the way he tears apart your cunt and morals bit by bit.. it’s–

‘’Tomura, aren't you closing yet?’’ Someone asks from outside, interrupting the moment. The shutters only reveal a pair of shoes. 

‘’Yeah, I’m on it.’’ Shigaraki stops composed, cockwarming you in a funny way, while a hand, his hand covers your mouth. Your eyes widen as slick trickles down his thighs in silence.

‘’Alright, see you then.’’ The man leaves and he cusses him out. (''Cunt.'')

‘’We’re not done.’’ He turns his attention back to you and seizes your face, bringing your mouth closer.

‘’Open up.’’ He orders and you do, clenching around him in anticipation.

He spits in it and closes the gap with his index finger. 

‘’Swallow or I won’t continue.’’ You quickly gulp down.

‘’So obedient all of a sudden, aren't you?’’ Sarcasm evident as he gives your ass a solid hit, before starting to get back on his pace, only more rough this time, he longs for your release on him. You’re moving up and down his length, trying to grab anything accessible really, his hair, the back of the couch, under his shirt and you feel your orgasm resurface stronger; the delay highlighted all of your senses.

‘’T-Tomura—’’ You shudder, as his cock hits your g-spot expertly–fuck, this guy wasn't some incel–and your swollen clit has to brush one last time past his groin before you feel an overwhelming orgasm take over. You clamp down his length and moan embarrassingly (Fuck Tomura! I–I'm...too good!) This time he lets you, he needs to hear this.

‘’Fuuck—agh, look at you dollface.’’ He hums, a feminist creaming herself on my cock, he wants to add but it’s too many words and you just came so he wastes no time. He brings your neck close to his mouth and bites on it, teeth sink into your flesh and hands force you all the way down. His cum spills inside and he groans, trying to stifle his moans by biting down the sensitive skin even harder. 

And fuck if that isn’t hot.

He keeps you on him, arms fasten around your waist with cum dripping onto his lowered pants but neither of you bother to care; ragged breaths and the sounds of the film still playing are audible as more light enters through the rolled shutters.

God must’ve been on your side that day because a message appears on your screen moments after you both wordlessly got up and cleaned yourselves in the bathroom. Tomura would have to clean again, you think, as the message on your phone signals your time to leave.

You turn to look at him, he has removed his shirt and small nail scratches decorate his pale back and you..smile. What the hell? Was this..? Oh no—You try to find an appropriate goodbye.

See you soon? Thanks for the mind blowing dick? You aren’t the incel I thought you were? Everything seems embarrassing at present time. 

‘’I-I’ll be seeing you soon.’’ You opt for that, stupid as it is, you still look at him in anticipation. He turns to you, hands on the mop cleaning near the couch and nods. 

Great, you think, that was a disaster. You defeatedly walk (actually stoop to get past the almost closed door) feeling like a hooker after a client, miserable and kind of used. This is always the worst part. 

You feel an arm touch your shoulder, you’ve only taken a few steps in the daylight.

‘’Take this in case you revoke your incel statement.’’

Tomura hands you a piece of paper and quickly disappears behind the store’s shadows.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for faking my death to get out of an abusive relationship?

Tw for verbal + mental/psychological abuse and suicide

I used to be in a discord server with some friends, there were about 40 people in it, only around 20 who were actually active. It was a while ago I can't remember. I was in that server for about 4 months.

From the start, people would occasionally get mad at me over something I didn't do. About every month or so someone would start a rumor about me and make the whole server gang up on me, I'd tell them it was false, but everyone would still avoid me for the next couple days.

I never did anything wrong, but I was always the center of the drama, and when I asked one person, R, why, he said he didn't know and that I didn't deserve so much hate.

About a week later R was talking in the vent channel about how I had manipulated him. I DMed him to ask why, and he told me it was because I asked him if he was my friend. I thought it was fucking stupid because it's not manipulative to be paranoid, but I pretended to be sorry because I didn't want him to be mad at me.

The server also had a bot where you could submit anonymous messages, and lots of people would use that feature to make up things about me to ruin my reputation.

After a while I left the server and only stayed in contact with a few people. However, every couple days another person would tell me I'm a monster and gaslight me into thinking I'm a terrible person, and every time I asked why they hated me they didn't give me an answer.

My only real friend, T, showed me some messages from the others after I left the server, and a bunch of people were making up stories about bad things I had done to them, and people who I had never even spoken to were saying that I had abused them and was dangerous.

Once someone told me thay they understood all the things R had said about me weren't true, but said it was still my fault anyway, and even told me that R had done nothing wrong (he lied about me in front of the entire server and is the reason I lost all my friends, and he yelled at me and called me evil because I was suicidal), and then they accused me of faking having amnesia because I had flashbacks.

Eventually, only four of my "friends" hadn't blocked me, and they almost never talked to me. Everyone kept calling me a terrible person because R spread lies about me and everyone else believed him instead of me.

It was to the point where I couldn't go one day without someone sending me death threats or trying to guilt trip me with false information, and I was getting very sever flashbacks of the stuff R had said to me, and I started failing classes because I couldn't focus on anything.

Eventually I had had enough, so I tagged them all in a tumblr post about how I was going to kill myself and then logged out of both that tumblr account and my old discord account forever.

(Also about a month after I had left, I got texts from irl friends, and it turns out someone on the server found the contact info of people I knew in real life just to ask if I was dead or not. And that scared the shit out of me.)

I've left out a lot of details of the abuse because of amnesia. I have a mental disorder which makes it hard to remember things, plus the brain often blocks out traumatic memories, so I'm sorry if some info feels missing.

The only reason I feel like I might be an asshole is because once I was gone, all of them switched targets and started to harass T. They said they hated him for being on my side, and sent him death threats on anon because he was mad at them for killing his friend. They started treating him the same way they treated me, and called him a horrible person but refused to give a reason as to why, and if I had stayed around they would've left him alone.

@should-be-dead (made a sideblog so I get notified when this is posted)

[daegutowns]

your enhypen hogwarts boyfriend 

tags: hogwarts au, gn!reader, this is the grind rn

gryffindor: heeseung, niki 

heeseung: quidditch team chaser 

secretly (not so secretly) an attention seeker

please expect to hype him up and fawn over him on quidditch match days -- especially on matches with slytherin (he always has a bet with jay) 

“babe i need you to boo jay if he ever comes near you.” 

and he is so serious about this 

mcgonagall claims she doesn’t like him but he’s just lucky that he’s actually really good at quidditch (bc his transfiguration grades are not sexy) 

excels in defense against the dark arts AND potions but snape hates him 

he swears up and down he didn’t do anything this time to get detention but you know better. and he’s always begging the captain to not kick him off

“please, you know snape wants my left buttcheek!” 

talks shit before the match (especially to jay) and then feigns innocence if he’s asked about it 

this is the result of years of watching quidditch matches with his dad (their favorite team is the montrose magpies -- and he WILL badmouth puddlemere united if that team is mentioned) 

likes to sleep next to you in the library after practice while you study 

riki: quidditch team beater  

rebellious, passionate, and playful -- riki is a gryffindor through and through

always getting caught up in pranks. denies ever being inside zonko’s even though that’s the first place he goes in hogsmeade 

like okay ????

claims mrs. norris (filch’s cat) is best friends with him, but he has no real way of proving this 

shy about pda because of his friends, so he likes meeting up with you in secret and passing you notes in class 

…until he gets caught and has to read them out loud

then he decides that fuck it! it’s better to just air it out anyways. not his problem what they find disgusting! 

straight up livin’ that thug life y’all #getrekt

lowkey getting brainwashed by heeseung (go magpies!) 

makes up all his dreams for his divination dream journal but always makes it about you so he can pretend to be offended if someone says it’s fake

hufflepuff: sunghoon, jungwon 

sunghoon: prefect (head boy) 

this hard-working and kind-hearted boy is a true hufflepuff through and through

everyone thought by his looks that he’d either be in slytherin or ravenclaw, but it’s more obvious when he opens his mouth 

he’s kind of like cedric diggory -- super well-liked, popular, good-looking, and smart

he’s got all the hufflepuff girls and gays giggling around him n shit 

“first years follow me to the common room” and the new hufflepuffs are tripping over their feet trying to ask him questions 

it’s okay because he only has eyes for you <3 

haha jk sometimes he’ll tease you and say “are you jealous? you look jealous~” and then backtrack and say nevermind that he’s sorry and he doesn’t actually know what other people look like. in fact he only knows one name and it’s yours. 

he doesn’t really need to be doing all that but it’s fun messing with him 

goes around humbly (not so humbly) bragging about you until he gets smacked by snape for messing around during (but that doesn’t stop him) 

he likes taking you to cheesy date spots, like madam puddifoot’s tea shop or the covered walkway near spintwitches sporting needs where everyone else had their first kisses 

jungwon: quidditch team seeker   

well-rounded, responsible, and dependable -- these are all traits of a hufflepuff that describe jungwon perfectly 

to be honest, he’s really just here for the vibes

his favorite pastime is collecting chocolate frog cards 

(he is specifically looking for the gold and silver albus dumbledore cards that have been out of circulation for years)

he’s a very talented seeker, but everyone else’s praise doesnt mean anything. he needs YOUR praise specifically and will pretend to not like it just so he can hear it more (but you know better!) 

please help him study… he is definitely getting that quidditch scouting from a professional team but jungwon said he might get a T (troll) in history of magic 

he has a black cat named dooly that terrorizes him before he sleeps

you like dragging him to the kitchens to eat chocolate snacks with him before bed, but he gets nervous sneaking out sometimes

likes sitting underneath the big willow tree near the black lake with his head in your lap. please run your hands through his hair! 

ravenclaw: jake 

jake: quidditch team beater  

everyone really would’ve expected that he would’ve been in either gryffindor or hufflepuff just based on personality alone 

the sorting gave him a choice, and he just went with the house that had more of his friends that he made on the train 

he loves it when you show up to practice because now it’s even more awesome! now even more of his favorite people are in the same place

“babe look at this!” while he does a flip ??? 

if he falls off, now both you AND the rest of his team can laugh at him 

loves it even more if you show up to his games fully decked out (beyond his imagination) in his house colors, even if that’s not your house

he never expects this from you but he’s soooo happy when it happens that it motivates you to keep doing it 

self-declared next quidditch captain (and flitwick will give it to him) 

he’ll even tutor you in transfigurations (his best subject) for kisses, because despite being an athlete, he’s also got good grades???? sometimes god has favorites 

“if you think i’m a cool boyfriend, give me a kiss” 

his favorite type of date is sneaking out to the kitchens with you and sharing a pudding cake

slytherin: jay, sunoo

jay: quidditch team keeper  

unsurprisingly, jay comes from a long line of other slytherins

he’s pretty laidback compared to the rest of his family, but always insists that you go with him to family functions (because “baby they’re too boring without you!”) 

you two always end up at the snacks table gossiping with his cool cousins anyways 

flexes by buying you all your snacks on the train + of course covers all the dates 

pretty popular within slytherin house, but only because he’s good at quidditch and also has pretty good grades (in everything except herbology) 

hates the keeper pickup lines and jokes but likes 

lined up to be the next captain! 

claims he wants to work for the ministry of magic’s department of mysteries

“i got an image to keep”

whatever you say babygirl ^^

expects to be holding hands whenever you’re walking the halls with him

requires a good luck kiss before every quidditch match

sunoo: prefect 

a lot of people expected sunoo to get into hufflepuff! he defies expectations 

seriously, he made a name for himself within the house

with as ambitious as he is, it’s not that surprising to see that someone has confident and charming as him is in slytherin 

he’s someone with friends in every house, probably in every year too

he’s got an “in” with every club on hogwarts campus, so take your pick bae. the world’s your oyster! 

he flexes like jay, but instead of galleons, he takes you to restricted areas of campus using his prefect badge 

would actually help you break the rules if you wanted to

“you want to break in where?! okay, wait, let me get--” 

likes it when you compliment his thoughtfulness or talent in these areas 

his best subject is charms ;) 

his favorite pastime is watching quidditch practices with you, but all you do is yap together

[spidernuggets]

Jason Todd x Reader

"Where are you going? Look, the Titans needs us-"

"Fuck them, Rose. Fuck all of you"

"Jason, please! Where are you gonna go?? We can figure something out!"

When Jason left with Rose out of Gotham City, you were heartbroken. You kept a one-sided love hidden, thinking it would be too selfish to confess your feelings to him while he's in an unstable state of self hatred. But when Dick revealed that he killed Deathstroke's son just moments after you managed to get Jason to step away from the ledge, you almost let your secret slip when Jason was swiftly packing his things as you begged him to stay.

"Figure what out, Y/N? Huh? Why are you even staying? Almost everyone is leaving anyway, and Dick is just a liar," Jason argued, stuffing his duffle bag with whatever clothes he could find.

"Because the Titans are the only family I have! At least Gar is staying. But you don't have to leave, Jay"

"And why shouldn't I? There's nothing for me here. Everyone hates me, hell, even you probably hate me. You only got me off the roof out of pity"

"That's not true, Jason."

"Then why else would you?!"

"Because I-" You quickly stop yourself, knowing things would only become worse if your feelings were revealed. So you took a deep breath and took a second to calmed down.

"Because you're my friend, Jay. One of the best friends I ever had. And I don't want you to leave," you say quietly.

Jason stared at you for a couple of seconds before taking your hand in his. "Then come with us. You don't have to do everything Dick tells you to anymore, no more lies, no more half truths."

You sighed, "I can't."

"Why not?"

"Yeah, I don't think I like the idea of third wheeling you and Rose," you try to joke, but your heart actually aching at the thought. "But seriously, I don't think leaving is a good idea, especially with Deathstroke around. And being alone with his daughter, I mean-"

"Wait, what you don't trust her or something?" Jason interrupts you, taking slight offence.

"I'm just saying to be cautious, Jason. I mean, Deathstroke already kidnapped you once and-"

"And what? You think Rose is working with him? Jesus Christ, and I thought I was fucked up," He scoffs. "Y'know, Rose admired that I made it out alive from her dad. I managed to make it out alive, and you still think I'm weak?"

"Jason, I never said that!-"

"Nah, fuck this, you're just like everyone else here," Jason says, zipping his bag close and storming out the room.

"Jason!" You tried calling out, just for him to ignore.

-

"What, was it part of Daddy's training to fuck me this whole time?!" Jason yells at Rose. "I'm done with this shit," he says, grabbing his bag, starting to leave the home the two raided.

Rose quickly grabbed onto his arm to prevent him from leaving.

"Look, none of this was supposed to happen. It just did," she tries to tell him, but he ignores her, tearing his arm away from her grip.

"Get the fuck off me." He cries, and as if by reflex, Rose strikes a punch at him, blood quickly falling down his now broken nose.

"C'mon! Fight me! You know you want to!" She says in desperation.

Jason sends a cold stare. "Are we done?" She doesn't reply, tears building up in her eye. "We're done," he says, walking towards the door as Rose cries.

"Where are you going? Look the Titans needs us!" She calls out to him as he reaches the door.

"Fuck them, Rose. Fuck all of you," he replies, finally walking out the door with only one thing on his mind.

You.

He hailed the first cab he could find, telling the driver to head back to Gotham City.

All he could think about was how stupid he was to you. You were right, and he just left you like you were nothing. You saved him, and he treated you like dirt. You said he was your friend, and he abandoned you.

He rushed out the taxi after paying the driver, running up to the small apartment you were living at. You spent most of your time in Titan's Tower, but went back to your place when you wanted to be fully alone.

Your apartment was only big enough for one person, granted there were ants here and there, and a little mould growing in some places, but you saw it as your own place.

Jason knocked on your door three times, followed by a call of your name. He knocked again, a little louder, and a little more desperate. What if you weren't home? He couldn't go back to Titans Tower, he wasn't ready to see everyone else.

When no one answered, his shoulders slumped, and was about to walk away.

But your door opened, and you appeared on the other side, rubbing your red eyes with a fluffy blanket draped over your shoulders and your hair running wild as it was tangled and bunched all over the place.

"Jesus, who died," you say groggily, having not registered who knocked on your door.

Jason's eyes brightened as he returned to the front of your door.

"Y/n.." He softly called out. You stopped rubbing your eyes as you looked up at him, eyes widening as you couldn't believe Jason was standing right in front of you.

"Jason.." You replied, not knowing what to say. "How have you- uhm.. D'you wanna come in?" You awkwardly offered, Jason nodding as you stepped aside for him to walk in.

You directed him towards the couch. "Uh.. do you want something to drink or..."

"No." Jason quickly replies. "I- I just needa talk to you."

You nod, walking over to sit beside him on the couch.

"So.."

"I'm sorry," he says, looking at you with those glassy eyes. "You were right. Rose was spying on me, working with Deathstroke, you were right. I should've listened to you, I should've stayed. Just- just say I told you so and-"

You interrupted Jason by lunging towards him, blanket falling off as you wrapped your arms around him. "I'm so glad you're back," you said, your voice muffled.

Jason sits there in shock, slowly wrapping his arms around your middle. "You- You're not mad?"

You pull away, "Why would I be mad?" You ask, hands boldly reaching up to hold his face.

"Why wouldn't you be! I treated you like shit! I didn't listen to you, then I just left! How could not hate me?" He says in an outburst.

All you do is sigh and look away.

"What? What is it?" Jason asks.

"It's because I love you, Jay," you finally confess. Jason's eyes widened and was left speechless. All he could do was lean closer as his gaze shift down to your lips.

You lightly chuckle as you olace a hand against his chest to stop him.

"Stop. You're only doing that because of guilt," You say.

But Jason shakes his head. "No. No, I don't believe I am," he replies. "You've no idea how much I wanted this. Ever since you joined the team, I promise you."

You sighed. "Listen, you just parted ways with Rose, I don't actually think you-"

"A chance," he interrupts. "Give me a chance to show you how much I care for you. How much I feel the same for you. Take you out on dates, give you flowers, whatever. Just a chance, and if you still don't believe it, fine, I leave you be. But a chance is all I beg for."

You look down at your fiddling fingers, eyebrows furrowed, wondering whether or not he's telling the truth.

"One chance," you say. "One chance and one chance only. If you screw this up, then that's that."

Yeah I didn't really know how to finish it off, like I had the idea for the start but didn't know how to make the rest of the story so its pretty shit, but at the same time, its 2am so whatevah

Jason smiles, bringing you in for a tight embrace. "You won't regret it, I promise you, mama."

[harrywavycurly]

Trouble Next Door Part 15 part 2: Porch Convo

Find Part 15: Here

Masterlist: Here

TW: Cursing, Steve is drunk, mentions of cheating and divorce and a tiny small bit of violence

Tag List: @sinczir @rach5ive @bruher @kellyxo1 @tiannamortis @makingmunson94 @angelina16torres-blog @tlclick73 @gretavankleep37 @melaninjhs @amira0303 @robyn-118 @idkjoequinn @jaydaaasworld @squidscottjeans @rockstarmunsons @alanamarie @dandelionnfluff @aol19 @eddiesguitarskills @vampdaisy @br66klynbaby @raven-rust @daisyridleyyyy @i-love-ptv @josephquinnsfreckles @mrsjellymunson @hideoutside @eddiemunson-fanfic @paprikaquinn @burns-in-the-sun @cherrycolas-things @exploding-bonbon @krazyk99

A/N: I didn’t wanna have to make y’all wait too long for this so I hope you enjoy and that it’s everything you wanted it to be😂✨

“Yo Steve you’ve gotta go man….you don’t live here anymore.” “Where did…did you come from?” “Uh…my house?” “Oh…figured you’d be moved in here by now…why aren’t you?” “What? Why would…you know what it’s pointless…you gotta go okay? She doesn’t want you here.” “I miss her.” “Cool…but miss her from somewhere else before I call Hopper.” “She loves you.” “No shit we are bestfriends…we love each other…” “no she’s in love with you…it’s fucking obvious…so so obvious and I…I married her anyway and now…now everyone hates me and Dustin won’t even talk to me…” “you have to lay off the whiskey dude…it’s not your friend…clearly makes you delusional.” “I’m not fucking delusional you asshole! My wife is in love with you and the only way I could…test if she cared about me was to…do this.” “What…did you just say? You cheated on her to see if she actually cares about you?” “She doesn’t…she just kicked me out…Chrissy kissed me you know? During game night…she kissed me because she knew you wouldn’t care.” “Stop talking Steve.” “Said that you only care about one person and we both know who that is….so Chrissy just kissed me.” “Steve…for the love of god shut the fuck up and get off her porch.” “I don’t want a divorce…I don’t want Chrissy…I don’t love her…I love my wife.” “You don’t get to cheat on your wife just to see if she loves you or not then say you don’t want a divorce….you fucking sleaze-ball…now get up.” “Maybe I can make her love me the way she loves you…maybe she’ll come around.” “Not gonna happen…do you not see where you’re at? You’re outside her house begging for her to love you…but why would she ever let you into her house or her heart again…when she was actually madly in love with you what did you do? You fucked my wife…just to see if your actual wife would care? You’re a sick motherfucker Steve and you need to leave.” “Madly in love with me? Are you fucking joking?” “Does it look like I’m joking?” “She’s never been madly in love with me Eddie…she’s just been too stupid-” “don’t you ever call her stupid you fucking asshole.” “Jesus Christ…I think….I think you broke my nose.” “I didn’t…we’d both know if I did….now fucking leave before I do actually decide to break something of yours…” “I just want her to love me…like she loves you.” “Well…can’t say she’s gonna love me when I go in there and tell her I punched you in the face…I just need you to know something Harrington.” “What?” “She doesn’t love me the way she loved you…she didn’t marry me…she married you…she didn’t pick me…she picked you…not because she needed a place holder but because she fucking loved you.” “What?…what? No…no that’s not-” “it is true…she loved you man…but you fucked it all up…” “I…I gotta…I gotta go.” “Bout fucking time…oh and tell Chrissy all this shit about not loving her will ya? She is convinced you’re in love with her and want your happily ever after with her…but do it..gently please…” “Uh yeah…okay…yeah I’ll…do it gently…tell her I love her?….please?” “No…now goodnight Steve…go take a cold shower and have a cup of black coffee and you’ll be fine…send me the bill for the dry cleaning to get the blood out of your shirt…”

[uwukillmenowowo]

Hello I have a request can you do a various Yandere MHA x Reader (like class 1a vs class 1b type of stuff) if that's comfortable with you!

WOOOOO!! I don’t mind at all :D

Haha I hope this is good- This is rlly my first time writing a Yandere Varius X Reader soooo......

HHHHHNNNNNGGGGG

COMPETITION

(Yandere BNHA X F!Reader!)

Notes:

Reader/ [Y/n] will be female for the sake of ✨Cliche writing~!✨

[Y/n]'s quirk allows her to manipulate water Juvia Lockser style [I chose water because it goes well with a lot of the class's quirks]

[Y/n]'s personality is the classic "Naive, innocent, strawberry milk sweetheart"

I may have left out something but I forgot what it was... :(

I hope it's still good tho :)

Lately all your friends have been acting weird. They want to do stuff like hanging out with you more, have a spar, have a snack, study, stuff like that. At first you found it cute and spent time with whoever asked first... but now... things have become... rough.

{Your POV}

~~~~~

"[Y/n]-Chaann~!" I yelped as I suddenly got hugged from behind. "Mina..?" I questioned. I heard her laugh and when I turned around, I saw the whole Bakusquad there. "What's up guys?" I asked as I tilted my head.

"Oh! We were planning to hit up the arcade. You wanna join?" Kriishima asked as he slung his arm around Kaminari. I groaned and rubbed my arm. "Sorry guys, I have something going on." They looked dissappointed but Bakugo just seemed pissed. More so than usual. "AH?! What could be more important? You're already hella smart and your quirk is kick ass!" I chuckled and blushed at the praise. "Yeah... True... It is only grocery shopping...but-"

"Then we can go to the arcade and then we can walk with you to the store."Kaminari suggested. "O-Oh! You don't have to! I mean- I still have-" Before I was able to finish my sentence, the door to the class opened and I saw Tetsutetsu, Kuroiro, Shiozaki, and Kendo. "Good afternoon. Is [Y/n]-San here?" I smiled and told the people in front of me goodbye before I jogged to the door. "Sorry! Just saying my goodbyes. We can go now." I told Kendo.

She smiled at me and in return, Tetsutetsu linked our arms and dragged me and the 1-B students away.

{Third POV}

~~~~~

It was silence for a while as class 1-A stared at the door that was left open. "WHAT THE FUCK?! WHY IS SHE HANGING OUT WITH THOSE CLASS B NOBODIES?!?" Screamed the blonde haired boy as he activated his quirk. "*hmph* Bakugo, calm down, we all agreed that we wouldn't act against each other until [Y/n] gave an answer." A black haired male ran into front of Bakugo to stop his quirk. "*Tch*... Dammit four eyes-" Bakugo glared at the class president before groaning and exited the class.

"Bakugo? Where are you going?!" Yaoyorozu asked, worried that [Y/n] might see all their true colours. "MAKING SURE THOSE EXTRAS DON'T DO STUPID SHIT!"

Everyone else in the class sighed. They also wanted to do the same but they know it will be suspicious.

{Your POV}

~~~~~

I thanked Shiozaki as she bought us all ice cream. "You really didn't have to buy these..." I smiled and licked my [Fav. Flavor] ice cream. "And Tetsutetsu, you don't have to hold my grocery bags." But Tetsutetsu and Shiozaki just looked more proud and happy with themselves. "We can walk you home too is you want?" Kendo asked as she stood behind me.

I sweatdropped. "Oh! That's too much! It's getting dark so I can't! You guys need to get home too so-" "I'm sure it'll be fine. We live in the same area anyways." Kuroiro said, looking at the others. "Are you sre? If it gets too late than you guys can stay over for the night..." That made the four of them smile. "Oh we won't take long, I'm sure" I smiled back and sighed. "Okay, fine. Let's go."

{Third POV}

~~~~~

"SHE'S GONNA- *MMPHHH*" Bakugo flailed around as the other grabbed him, covering his mouth and pulled him back into their hiding space. "Shhhhuuu! Bakubro she's gonna hear you!" Kirishima whispered and he used his quirk and hugged Bakugo to trap him. "Ahh! What should we do?!" Ashido asked as she gripped her hair.

"Don't worry. I texted the chat." "YOU DID WHAT?!?" The Bakusquad all glared at Kaminari. "Huh? What was that?" The Bakusquad all ducked into the alleyway, tightly holding onto the explosive Pomeranian. "[Y/n]... We should go. They could be a thief, or a villain." They heard a member of Class B suggest. "Hmm... Okay. Let's hurry."

They heard the group that they were tailing start to jog and they all shared their annoyance. "*Tch* It's no use. They're all at [Y/n]'s home so there's no point in tailing them anymore." Sero groaned and facepalmed. "That sucks. 'Cause Midoriya, Todoroki, and Iida are already on their way. So are Uraraka, Yaoyorozu, and Jiro." The Bakusquad grit their teeth while Bakugo activated his quirk, letting out muffled yells. "This stupid idiot-" Sero sighed and smacked the back of Kaminari's head. "Hey!"

But before Kaminari could respond, the three boys he mentioned earlier just arrived, along with Uraraka, Yaoyorozu, and Jiro arrived. "Where are they?!" Midoriya asked as he kept a straight face.

"Simple~ Anywhere where no class 1-A morons are!" Out came a voice that 1-A was all too familiar with. "OF COURSE IT'S YOU, COPYCAT!" Bakugo yelled, getting out of Kirishima's grip. The "Copycat" just laughed and from both side of the ally, came more students from class 1-B. "An ambush?! So you knew?" Yaoyorozu stated firmly, reaching for her stomach and pulled out a spear while the other class 1-A activated their quirks.

"Whoa... Whoa... Settle down! You wouldn't want dearest to find out about this little thing do you~?" Kaibara chuckled as he pulled out his phone with a video that the 1-A students knew all too much about. A video of... a certain person who... let's just say tried to do bad stuff to our dear reader. "How?" Iida demanded, getting into a fighting position.

Monoma stepped forwards. "Relax~ We won't actually do anything yet." He laughed as he clapped twice. At the signal, Class 1-B all charged at 1-A. Because of the small allyway they were in, class 1-A had trouble controlling their quirks. I mean, sure they have control but their anger of being blackmailed messed with them.

"You tell her and I swear on All Might's name I will completely mmmmmmhh- frick you up." Uraraka exclaimed, pouting. "Ohhhh no~ We're so scared" Kodai responded with sarcasm. After a great stare off, they all launched their attacks both sides determined to beat the other to prove the strength of their love.

[Request for Pt.2]

AAAHHHHH!!! THIS WAS BAD IT HAD MORE RIVALRY THAN... STUFF

THIS WAS HONESTLY MY FIRST TIME WRITING A YANDERE x READER- SOOOOOO I HAD NO CLUE WHAT TO DO WITH THE PLOT MY MIND JUST WENT. "Okay, fight, love, hate, fight, kill, blood, love, jelly jelly, tsun tsun, fight, jelly, hate, love, blood, tsun tsun, blood, fight, kill, jelly jelly."

[beemers-hell]

i desperately wanna apologize to you but you would call bullshit and paint me like something evil bitch when in reality, i want the cycle of abuse to end and to ease my mind. i just wanna redeem myself before ending it all.

- you already know who

to everyone else sorry about this, but I've had enough, anyway i was just gonna delete this, just like i deleted the TWO suicide notes you sent me in my ask box a lil bit ago, but a number of my friends DM'd me about what you've been posting on your blog so I can only assume this all came from Nene, also known as @/shugurrsn0w , and for anyone who doesnt know Nene is, well this callout thread will get you acclimated with her REAL quick lmfao:

You are not fucking apologetic at all if you are using s0uless' full REAL name on your blog, you stupid bitch. That kind of information can put them at risk of REAL GENUINE HARM. S0uless made the mistake of using their name as their art handle when they were younger but they have been doing a pretty extensive wipe of that username being online, I know this isn't exactly doxxing because of that but USING IT WHEN THEY'RE CLEARLY NOT WANTING IT TO BE PUBLIC INFORMATION IS SOME PRETTY SCUMMY SHIT, AND CAN BE USED FOR ACTUAL REAL HARM BEING DONE TO HIM YOU JACKASS

Don't come in my ask box hiding behind anonymous acting like you actually feel bad for the shit you did when you are STILL making posts calling me and my husband fucking freaks when you know DAMN WELL we're not. Don't you dare try and act all remorseful and pitiful and like you're some misunderstood fallen angel when you've been doing but helping making our lives a fucking nightmare. You don't get to act like you've done nothing wrong when you have CONSISENTLY VICTIM BLAMED THEM, CLAIMED THEIR TRAUMA WAS FAKE, BEEN RACIST TO ME, MOCKED MY ABUELAS RECENT DEATH, THREATENED HARM ON BOTH OF US, HARASSED AND STALKED US, AND SPREAD ALL THIS INSANE SHIT ABOUT US FOR NO GODDAMN REASON. You don't get to just act like you made some petty mistakes that you can walk off, you have been non stop harassing, stalking, and falsely accusing me and s0uless of being scum of the fucking earth when there is no goddamn evidence that we are and you KNOW there isn't, because we fucking ARENT. Unlike your freak ass, we KNOW what the fuck is right and what is wrong. But that kind of shit gets around to people and makes people start thinking we ARE those freaks that we aren't.

And you should be well aware of how fucking awful that makes a mother fucker feel, you know? Since you wanna keep whining about how "people keep being mean/demonizing you for no reason." What, you don't think people are gonna DM me asking me what the fuck you're talking about in those posts you make? Newsflash dipshit, most people wanna know both party's stories regarding drama that surrounds someone they know. Don't you try to twist this and cry about how I'm some creepy weirdo that's stalking you, you should've thought harder about following someone and then IMMEDIATELY sending them an anonymous ask about me and s0uless, cause that DEFINETLY isn't fucking fishy at all, dumbass. That's how I was alerted to you and your new bullshit. Don't try and act like I'm a freak that keeps tabs on you, I thought you'd drop off the face of the earth after that one callout thread got made on you. You wanna talk about evidence of wrongdoing? Nothing really shows your true colors more than publicly being racist, harassing minors, and consistently AND RECENTLY consuming bestiality porn of minors. Try bouncing back from saying that YOU want to make noncon porn of your favs, or being a whole ass adult saying you wanna fuck a 16 year old character that you KNOW is 16. THATS some REAL freak shit that YOU admitted to your damn self, you don't get to act like me or s0uless are the real freaks when there is REAL AND RECENT EVIDENCE of you doing that shit, you gross fuck.

Leave us the fuck alone, I do not care about your pathetic ass and s0uless sure as shit doesn't either. This has been going on for over a FUCKING YEAR NOW and i dont give a single SHIT about playing nice and being quiet about it anymore. Don't fucking come whining to me and acting like you're remorseful again when you're PULLING THIS SHIT AGAIN. Leave me the fuck alone and I'll leave you the fuck alone. Expect a restraining order dumbass, it was real easy to get your info when you've got it so readily available online! If youre gonna play stupid games, expect to win stupid prizes. Get the fuck off my and my husband's dick and focus on fixing yourself you ghoul. Do some fucking introspection so you can figure out why the fuck people don't like you. And don't come to me threatening suicide again, I don't give a single SHIT about you and I'm sure as FUCK not going to give you any sympathy when you've shown no fucking growth or genuine remorse for all of this. I've thought about killing myself a lot lately too, you're not fucking special.

[transwicky]

Ollie and Wicky eloped.

Everyone feels offended and they think maybe the others got invited but the truth was nobody did.

They eloped winter break junior year, but everyone thinks they got married after graduating.

Until Bitty is stressing out planning his and Jack's wedding and Ollie is like "this is why we eloped junior year" and Bitty freezes and stares at him.

"Junior year?"

"yeah. My student visa was expiring for the year and we had plans to get married anyways, so Pace' suggested eloping earlier than planned so I could get a green card. Fuck, Tango was literally the only one there as our witness and to tell immigration "yeah they genuinely love each other, it's kinda gross how in love they are with the PDAs" so. We never had a real ceremony, just did paperwork for it. It helped that we were broke college students who had been dating since our freshman year."

Bitty is floored.

He texts the others asking if they knew.

They are all HORRIFIED to know they've been thinking the worst of Ollie and Wicky when the only person who went was the freshman that was the honest and genuine tadpole that Wicky pretty much adopted, and probably because there was no way immigration would not believe the kid.

Bitty hesitantly asks if they'd want a ceremony, and Ollie shrugs.

"it's not a big deal to me overall. I think it'd be nice, but I don't need one. I think Pacer would like it though, but his family is also kinda fucked up so I don't know for sure how he'd feel about it. I've offered though. He said no."

Bitty asks Tango.

"He and his cousin planned their weddings when they were eight, Bitty. He wants a ceremony. He doesn't need one, he knows that, but he wants one, he just doesn't want Ollie to think it's something he needs to do to like, prove they love each other or something. It's from the fucked up childhood. His mom was kinda stupid. Said weddings were proof that they love each other. So Wicky says no when Ollie offers 'cause he remembers that and doesn't want Ollie to feel like he has to do it as proof, because he already knows Ollie loves him. It's stupid. People are stupid. Why are people so stupid?"

"Good Lord, that's the million dollar question, Tango."

And so he talks things out with Tango.

Tango gets in touch with Wicky's cousin.

She gives him the old baby wedding planner they did as kids, and the one Wicky had started when he and Ollie first made plans to get married after graduation (the baby one was for cute little laughs at what 8 year old Wicky wanted, it wasn't actually what Tango asked her for. Nobody is complaining).

She sits Ollie down. Tells him what their moms told them as kids, and that Wicky will never tell him he wants a ceremony because of it, and especially since they're already married.

So Ollie has to finish planning things. They can have the ceremony on the day they actually got married ("Make it romantic! He'll love it!") And it can be in their backyard, even ("where doesn't matter, so long as the people you both care about are there!").

SMH is invited, that much is clear.

Bitty is Ollie's best man, Tango is Wicky's, because Ollie knows Wicky wouldn't want anyone else there unless it's Johnson (which is true).

But Johnson is allowed to wed people legally, they have no idea why, but he can, and Ollie knows Wicky would LOVE that.

The ceremony really is in the backyard, and it's covered in snow, and Wicky comes home from work to their friends and families over and holy shit Ollie did all of this?!

And his dad just grins, gives him the suit he got married in, and his own father got married in, and his father had married in, and Wicky is crying by the time he's standing with Ollie at the end of the aisle, with Tango as his best man, and Johnson is the one marrying them.

He whispers thank you before Johnson starts talking.

It's absolutely everything he could have wanted for their wedding.

[princess-of-the-corner]

Sorry, just discovered your public knowledge au, its hilarious. I think 'realistically' I like the Only Miraculous wielders & whoever they tell knows version as it could feel a bit less cracky though it'd still beg why they don't bring other heroes in to collectively stomp Gabriel as they know his location. Though that just has me imagining him palming it off on his various rich friends like a hot potato. Anyway two main thoughts:

`1: For the just Holders know AU, Gabriel owns up to his motives right away & almost convinces the kids. Except Fu shows up & reveals that its basically a monkeys paw and more people will die if he makes is wish. Gabriel insists he s smart enough to work around that (He also just doesn't care) but Tikki & Plagg are like, "Literally we have no control over this, it goes to shit every single time, sorry."

In essence, its his ego and control freak nature that mean Gabriel refuses to give up even when he and everyone else know he should quit. Its probably kind of a sad/rough start for Adrien especially, but also leads to very quick positive vibes with Marinette & more direct mentorship.

2: Rogercop be like

Chloe: Well, seeing as you won't do your damn job, how about our classes two super heroes show you up? Adrien: I am one hundred percent down for that except I can't find Plagg! Marinette: Ya know I've wanted to try this anyway, Luck Charm! (Gets a Plagg doll with his head snuck in the bracelet) Well that answers that.

Later

Tikki: How did you even get stuck we can phase through soli matter.., Oh this is interesting and maybe concerning. Chloe: What can it do magic, is it a Miraculous? Plagg: Well its tied to a Miraculous, where'd you find this?

Chloe: Back of my mothers cupboard? Andre: You aren't meant to have that (Tries to snatch) Chloe: Why, what is it!? Can it do magic?

Andre: If by magic you mean mind control you- don't break it you'll explode! Chloe: Why do you own a mind controlling bracelet that only works on me and kills me if it breaks and why was it in a fucking dust covered pile of half forgotten trash!? Andre: ... Its your mot- Gabriel's fault, blame him, now I have a meeting to get to bye! (Runs away)

Butterflies appear Adrien: Dad, glad you could... Make it. Gabriel: Well I am here now, also the Amok's treatment is very much 'not' my fault, it is like that because your parents don't love you.

Adrien: DAD! Gabriel: I am a magical empath son, I know it to be true, your mother and I were much more careful with your Amok & sealed it away so it could never be used against you or damaged. Those two tossed it in a cupboard once they realized it couldn't just rewrite a babies personality, or any personality, to not need things like food or affection, if they hadn't already made the announcement they'd have probably smashed it or given it away. Gabriel: By it I mean Chloe.

Chloe: Oh... (Uses the Amok to turn herself 'off' IE pass out) Gabriel: Dammit, I was hoping the truth would cause her to explode in a rage never before seen and become my most powerful Akuma! I can't even use this self destructive self loathing, she's too depressed to even transform! (Leaves)

Honestly this started out kind of funny then I made myself sad.

Gabriel: I wonder if I should mention the sister they had made as a replacement. That one didn't turn out how they wanted either but they did skip the baby phase.

GOD the chaos there.

But also yeah the AU is mostly crack because tbh I can't see an identity reveal happening that doens't immediately lead to an ending one way or another.

But also OOF.

[showyouhowiswing]

Some chyan headcanons:

most people think they became friends during that summer at Lava Springs, after the baseball game and Ryan became more inmeshed with the general student body

it's true enough, kind of.

they weren't friends during junior year, before all that shit went down with Troy and Gabi and the school musical, but they were something

they hooked up a few times during Darbus's detentions, backstage where no one would ever find them and once in the rafters while they were supposed to be painting the top bit of a set

it didnt mean anything. they didnt talk about it. it just sort of happened numerous times. they were both totally chill about it and Chad definitely didnt spend many nights by himself, thinking about what it would be like to not be so lonely. Ryan didnt either.

the first actual night they spent together was after the infamous baseball game, and at some point lying in the dark, tangled up in each other, Chad admitted he didn't know why they hadnt done this before.

"No beds backstage, and we were on a timecrunch. Besides, you wouldn't have said yes if I invited you over."

once they really became friends, Chad spent most of his friday nights at Ryan's, even after senior year started.

it was only a little bit about sex.

Chad eventually confessed that Ryan was his queer awakening. Ryan refused to believe him because he knew he wasn't the first guy Chad had fooled around with.

it's true though.

sophomore year Ryan became the mascot, and the first time Chad saw him take the head off Ryan was drenched in sweat and his hair was sticking to his forehead. Chad went home that night and dreamt about it.

he did hookup with a guy on the track team, convinced that his fixation on Ryan was a fluke.

it wasn't a fluke.

Ryan knew about track team guy not because Chad told him, but because he also used to hook up with the guy and he saw some rather incriminating texts on his phone.

junior year Chad kissed Ryan first, but only because Ryan egged him on.

"If you dont want to chat, Danforth, maybe you should find something else for us to do."

yes it was because of the texts, no he didnt think Chad would actually do it. he was pleasantly surprised though.

after the game it was also Chad who initiated, although it went a little differently.

"I'll do the show on two conditions, Evans. One, you go out for baseball this year. I don't care what your sister or anyone else has to say about it."

"And the second?"

"Take your pants off."

over the course of senior year, everybody kind of figured there was something going on with them, but it wasn't confirmed until the morning after prom. they all shared a handful of hotel rooms, except Sharpay who fucked off to god knows where, and Ryan who specifically got his own room to get away from the eventual chaos.

and Chad, who was of course the exception to the rule.

Zeke woke them up the next morning for brunch, and Ryan (in an attempt to be helpful) tried to cover and say he slept on the floor, obviously there was nothing indecent going on.

Chad, from under the duvet, announced that Ryan was a terrible liar because not only did they definitely have sex last night, it had been going on awhile, and also Chad was very bisexual and anyway they'd be down for brunch in half an hour.

he made a similar speech at brunch minus the duvet and specifics regarding the sex.

everyone was chill, though money did exchange hands. Kelsi was miffed they didnt wait until after graduation so she could win the pool.

they're happy together.

so incredibly happy.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am i (FTM 18) the asshole for accidentally telling out friends about how my bf is into CBT? (that's cock and ball torture btw)

So the other day me and my bf's friends were all talking in the group chat we had. My bf is quite a bit older than me so we don't really have the same friends. I'm very open with my friends about my life, even my sex life yeah, though it's all joking. My bf, who I'll call Steve, is decidedly not. He doesn't mind the jokes about it though and we make them with each other and the group chat all the time. ANYWAYS onto the story, we were all talking in the gc and one of my friends made some joke about me needing a dick appointment and i made a joke back about how i needed to be eaten out, kissed and hugged along with the 'dick appointment' and my friend asks if its in that order and i said yes. I jokingly told Steve that we have a new plan for the weekend and he said yes. a second later he says something about how he was gonna say something else but now wasn't going to. Me and my other friend, who I'll call Toby, pestered him about it for a bit until he dmed me telling me it had to be in that order cause he liked eating his cum out of me. 

I screenshotted it and showed it to Toby and we laughed about it for a bit. This isn't the first time I've screenshotted something and sent it to my friend, and Steve knows that. 

Toby jokingly called my boyfriend a freak (which I often do myself, as it’s sort of an inside joke because of the things he’s into.) He then added that he bets Steve would like getting kicked in the balls too, which we both found funny and that prompted me to ask my boyfriend if he’s into it. He immediately knew that I’m asking him to just send it to Toby, but I reassured him that it would stay between us. After a bit of going back and forth between me asking him if he’d be into it and him asking why that’s important, I eventually lied and admitted that I’d like to kick him in the balls just to get an answer out of him. (Btw Toby said that I should just say that *I* want to do it, so that Steve would actually admit if he’s into it or not) Steve was a bit surprised but then he said he’s into CBT. I had no idea how to respond to that, to which Steve got even more suspicious that I’m trying to play a joke on him. I said that’s not true and that I love him and from there on our conversation went a different way. Meanwhile, me and Toby were laughing about it through our DMs, but it was nothing with mean intent. Toby and I joke like that all the time!

Later on, the next day, Steve and I were talking again and he ended up saying something about how if he ever does this one thing, he wanted me to cut his dick off as a joke. The entire message was longer, so I screenshotted it and sent it to the group chat, but I scribbled out the entire message except for when it said “I want you to cut my dick off.” as a joke. Toby and I laughed about it in the groupchat, Steve called me a dick and i jokingly said something like ‘nuh uh, you're into CBT” cause i thought it was obvious everyone else would take it as a joke and toby ended up saying something about how “after yesterday’s conversation, i'm not surprised.” While this conversation was going on, Steve was DMing me telling me to go suck a dick and I said I would go suck one that wasn't his and he told me to have fun. This is also normal for us, to say i was gonna go get fucked by someone else cause then he’d usually fuck the shit out of me and then afterwards we reassure each other that we love eachother and only each other. It's  a sex thing not a toxic thing or something. He wasn't responding back like he normally would and in the moment i thought it was just him pretending to be mad cause he’ll do that sometimes cause i find it hot, but then my friend toby said he would be worried if *his* partner started talking the way Steve was to me, but to him so i got worried and texted him asking if he was alright.

Steve told me that he’s not alright and what I did wasn’t funny. I really thought we were messing around! This wasn’t the first time either of us joked about our kinks with our friends and I thought he was playing along with it the entire time. He told me that he doesn’t find it funny that I asked him such a personal question and then I went to tell Toby and then the rest of the group chat, especially after he thought I was messing with him and I assured him I wasn’t. He told me he wasn’t mad, just hurt, and I suddenly felt really bad for joking about something like that. I explained to him that I wasn’t trying to expose him and I was just joking around. He told me it’s fine, but I still felt very guilty about it, so much so that I began profusely apologizing and even crying at some point because I knew I fucked up real bad. I didn’t feel like I deserved his forgiveness, but he tried reassuring me that I shouldn’t feel so upset about it and that things like that happened all the time. I’m not sure if I could ever forgive myself for making him upset with a joke, but I know that he’s a very forgiving person and he won’t hold it against me even if he was upset.

btw the whole dick appointment joke was cause toby was talking about how he thought i had audhd and i said i needed a therapist then our friends jack said the whole dick appointment thing

ALSO can you tag this with ‼️ /nf just so i can find it later ^^

What are these acronyms?

[casanovawrites]

random sentence prompts  ━ from various tv shows, part 8

it’s hard to figure out where you fit in. 

it’s not so easy for me to make friends. i’m not cool like you.

you’re making it really hard for me to be mad at you right now.

it was my fault. i made a mess of it.

something dreadful is about to happen.

high school is the best your life was ever going to get.

you’re gonna leave here thinking that you need to worry about me, but you’re wrong.

we did so much fucked up shit out there. and yeah, maybe it was to survive. maybe. but i don’t think we deserved to.

if you’re done crying, i can tell you some stories.

you sound like you’re about to snap someone in half with that tongue of yours. 

what are you saying, i’m not innocent?

i don’t want to be something you have to learn to live with.

you know me. i don’t always listen.

you are my ghost story.

i know you don’t think you’re strong enough, but that’s not true.

it’s family. there’s always an explosion. 

someone like you, you seem serious. i’m not sure i’m ready for serious.

understand that i love you, but i will not be waiting up for you.

i spent a long time feeling like i wasn’t enough, and i don’t want to do that anymore.

what about you and me against the world? you and me in the world.

you think i’m lonely?

your job is cooler than mine.

stop smiling, i’m kicking your ass.

i’m chasing ghosts. long story.

you’re itching for a fight.

your neck, it’s bleeding.

there’s “packing away” and there’s “throwing away.”

this is what i get for disobeying your orders.

do you wanna die? answer me. do you wanna die?

you can’t put all your feelings in a box.

we’re actually back on the same side.

if what matters to you most is how other people see you, then you haven’t learned a damn thing.

you think pain is weakness?

why are you worried about a lack of trauma?

we're finally hot, at least according to me.

with them, it’s always two steps forward, then get stabbed in the back.

i crack myself open for 50 minutes, walk out feeling like i was hit by a bus.

i kissed someone. or, they kissed me.

i don’t want to keep on making the same mistakes.

you’re family. it’s what we do. we look out for each other.

are you going to come back?

i don’t have anywhere else to go. you made sure of that.

you were worth the wait.

i guess now i know all your secrets. 

don’t make it weird. i love you.

i’d hate for things to get messy again.

talk about your dumb luck.

it doesn’t matter. you always come first.

why is it your job to take those risks?

i’m saying, i love you. and i want you to quit. 

it was a big deal to me. you saved my life.

the truth is worth everything.

don’t settle for being half of anything. go out there and do something that allows you to be 100% you.

people go away. i don’t want to miss anyone else.

people go away. and it’s sad and it hurts. but you know, not everyone goes away forever. sometimes they come back.

i know what it’s like to be stuck inside the worst part of your life.

no offense, but you’re never the one getting left behind. you’re the one who leaves.

now it’s time for me to figure out who i am without you.

you are like, out of control. 

you know i’m really in love with you, right?

if today can be a good day, maybe tomorrow can, too. 

i already feel like a fool. i don’t need the rest of the world to know the joke.

everyone wants to save the world, they just disagree on how.

i wonder if anyone survived.

i’m not usually the “take it easy” type.

do you ever want something good to happen? a really good thing?

there are no answers here.

your type is losers.

one nightmare isn’t necessarily a reason for concern.

that’s not why i came. i’m only here for you, in case you needed me.

i have walked through fire every single day of my life because of you.

you're so hot when you talk shit like that.

it’s all a goddamn prison anyway.

you want a natural disaster? look no further than my life.

i haven’t felt it in years, and it feels wonderful. but it also feels fucking terrifying.

if i’m repressing things i don’t know about, i’m very okay with never figuring it out.

you should be ashamed.

i love you. and as long as i know you feel the same, i can say it enough for the both of us.

i feel a lot of things when i’m with you. happy, safe, a million other things that i can’t explain right now. but i do feel all of that for you.

i’m not pushing anyone away. i’m taking steps back.

home isn’t a place, it’s a people.

all you’ve got out there is your instincts.

love me anyway.

i don’t think good things are gonna happen to me anymore.

sometimes the hardest part is going home by yourself, being alone with all that quiet.

if it’s meant to be, they’ll find their way home.

no one gets under their daughter’s skin like a mom.

i’m not ashamed. i’m glad i’m alive, just like you are.

you’re a good person. you really don’t belong in this place.

life isn’t a science experiment. you can’t control your world forever.

do you ever get tired of winning? or being the fucking worst?

you two together, you are unstoppable.

so who’s gonna die today? you? or me?

hey, you’re back. are you back…?

i know you’re afraid of people leaving you.

i’m afraid that i’m never going to feel normal again.

[thirstydiglett]

IT’S FINALLY HEREEEEEEEE

@badly-drawn-doflamingo asked me for some Corazon x male!reader like a month ago and I SWEAR it was just gonna be a little thing but it got out of control and anyway here it is

————————NC17 minors DNI———————

To Know, To Not Be Known

Summary: You’re a new Ensign at headquarters, fresh from the Academy but not nearly as strong as your fellow Ensigns. Thankfully your kind and very handsome Commander is here to help you train and work on those deep rooted self esteem issues of yours… but only if you muster up the courage to let him in.

Characters: Marine!Donquixote Rocinante, male!reader, Bellemere and Sengoku get cameos because I love them

Pairings: Rocinante x male!reader obivously

Warnings: Graphic violence, minor (original) character death, major character injury, small amounts of homophobia, discussion of trauma especially starvation, sex with an authority figure, oral sex, rimming, minor cum play, anal, Diglett has a size kink so that’s in here too, I think that’s everything but I might have missed something pls let me know

Word Count: 14k hahaha what is wrong with me

———————————————————————

“See ya later, Bellemere!”

You adjusted the collar of your uniform, inspecting it for any stains, and walked out of the dining hall. You waved to your best friend as she bussed her tray and headed the other direction. It would have been nice to have her, you mused, especially today of all days. Frustratingly, you and Bellemere had been put into different squadrons after graduating the academy. There, you’d been attached at the hip, The only two queer (or at least openly queer) infantry in your graduating class.

But now it was a whole new world, and everything was different. Marine Headquarters. Who would have guessed they’d place you here of all places? True, you had a devil fruit and that was interesting, but you’d never worked particularly hard back at the academy. Too busy goofing off with Bellemere and having crushes on boys who invariably turned out to be straight, in all honesty. You’d always done decently despite your slacking off, but never in a thousand years would you have guessed you’d end up at Headquarters. Fucking Headquarters.

Bellemere, on the other hand? That girl deserved it. She was up at 4 every morning to work out before morning workout. She could recite marine history from the end of the void century up until fifteen minutes ago. And her sailing skills? Top notch by anyone’s standards. All while getting more pussy than most of the boys you knew.

When you found out both of you were heading to headquarters together, you’d almost asked if she had pulled some kind of string to bring you along with her. But no—they’d requested you specifically. How the hell could you deserve to be here, with the elites?

Well, you were about to find out. Day one of training with the big boys was about to commence.

As you headed over to the training grounds where your squadron was scheduled to meet—6 AM on the dot—you couldn’t help but be in awe of the men and women around you. A man with hair at least three feet tall was deep in conversation with—holy shit, was that Monkey D. Garp?? And you could have sworn you just walked past a literal giant…This place was going to take some getting used to.

Arriving at your squadron’s assigned training fields—a grassy expanse littered with boulders and submerged in a thick early-morning fog—your heart leaped to realize that everyone else was already there and standing in ranks. Oh shit, were you really late on your first day? Frantically, you glanced at your watch. Nope, still 5:59. Then why…?

“Hey, recruit!”

A truly huge man was staring at you from the field, his coat around his shoulders. Your breath caught in your throat as you met his gaze, and not just because he was glaring at you with a vengeance. The man was truly… well, gorgeous. Tousled blond hair fell over his forehead, partially obscuring large, lidded red-brown eyes. He stood with his hands in his pockets, his white shirt barely obscuring his well-defined musculature. You could feel your jaw drop a little as you took him in.

Oh shit. You should probably say something back.

“Uhh—y/n l/n, reporting for duty, sir!”

You jogged over and fell into line, saluting the man who was clearly to be your superior officer. He slowly walked in front of you, towering over you as he glared into your eyes.

“And you’re here thirty minutes late because…?”

You flushed. You couldn’t deny, the way his eyes bored into yours was sending lightning bolts through your stomach. “I, um, I was told to be here at 0600 hours, sir!”

“And unlike all the other ensigns, you didn’t get the memo I sent to the barracks last night that I wanted you here at 0530?”

You gulped. You’d actually snuck into Bellemere’s room last night to smoke the weed she’d snuck in and watch old cartoons on her visual Den Den Moshi. And you hadn’t gotten back until almost 1, far too late to receive a message.

“I was asleep, sir!” You blurted out, the lie slipping between your teeth with surprising ease. The man staring down at you raised an eyebrow.

“Asleep, eh?”

Oh, shit. He doesn’t buy any of this, does he? Am I about to get killed on my first day? Yeah, this guy looks like he could kill me…

“Be here on time tomorrow.”

The man turned and walked away without another word, leaving you stunned. Did I… Did I just get away with that?

Facing the line of ensigns, most of whom were barely hiding their snickering at you, the man raised his hand. With a quick glance at you and a—was that a smile?— he snapped his fingers.

The world went silent.

Out of nowhere, the voices of the other ensigns were deadened. The sound of the wind, the grass—holy shit, even your heartbeat—had completely disappeared. The ensigns looked around at one another, baffled and frightened. Suddenly, a voice cut through the dense silence.

“Calm down. It’s my devil fruit.”

You and the other ensigns looked up to see your superior officer watching you, a small smile on his face.

“I’m Commander Donquixote Rocinante. I’ll be leading this squadron. We’ll be working here to start with, but we may be going to sea on missions within the next year or so.

The powers that be want me to tell you that you all are here because you’re elite, the best of the best that the academy has to offer. Personally, I think that’s a load of bullshit. You’ve yet to prove you have anything to offer on the battlefield and you certainly haven’t proven that you know anything about executing Justice.

It’s my job to keep an eye on you, and if I see any shit I don’t like, you’ll be up for reassignment in a heartbeat.” (Oh shit, was he looking at you when he said that?)

“Understood?”

Rocinante snapped his fingers, and with a gentle woosh the sound returned to the world.

“Now, let’s get started. Ensigns, give me 100 push-ups!”

The peaceful morning shattered as over two dozen of the Marines’ finest dropped to their hands and toes, yourself included.

____________________________________

The first three weeks of training passed in a blur. Commander Rocinante pushed your squadron hard, working mostly on hand-to-hand combat skills and marksmanship, Rocinante’s two specialties. Everyone else was obviously in the right place—your compatriots were strong and tough, pushing themselves well past their limits for their commander.

And he paid them back in kind. Commander Rocinante was proving to be a surprisingly charming, supportive superior. He often bought the squadron drinks after a long day of training, and his goofiness and clumsiness off the battlefield put everyone at ease. While fighting, like many of the Marines, he was serious and intense—moving quickly and elegantly and using his power to sow confusion and cripple the enemies’ senses—but as soon as training ended Commander Rocinante was the kindest, most open-hearted (and admittedly the most disaster-prone) leader that anyone could ask for.

Except he appeared to hate you specifically.

You knew why—you were by far the weakest member of your squadron. You worked hard, sure, but you couldn’t quite do as many pushups, run as many miles, dodge as many punches. If you were Commander Rocinante, you would have been annoyed too. Of course you would have. But he was just so—so cold to you.

He greeted the others with nicknames, arms around shoulders, jokes about whatever was in the news. You got a chilly nod; you weren’t even good enough for him to call you by your name. After training he was quick to call out the other ensigns for their hard work and improving skills with swords or martial arts. You got a criticism or you got nothing at all. Other ensigns ragged on the commander for his famous clumsiness and he laughed right along with them. You cracked one joke when he tripped on a rug and got nothing more than a dead-faced scowl.

It wasn’t like you didn’t get it. But still, it hurt like hell to be the only one who didn’t have some inside joke with him, the only one who he didn’t personally invite to sit with the squadron at meals, the only one who was this weak and useless and—

“Ensign! Keep your head up!”

At the sound of Commander Rocinante’s voice, you shook yourself out of your thoughts with just enough time to dodge a kick aimed at your left ear. Henri, one of your fellow ensigns, cursed as he barely missed you. “That won’t happen again, y/n!”

You swallowed and tried to clear your head. Maybe this was why you were always fucking up during training—couldn’t stay focused to save your life.

You returned Henri’s kick with a right hook, but he ducked before you could hit him. Losing your balance, you were left wide-open, and Henri used the opportunity to strike at you with his short sword. The tip of it brushed your skin as you leaped back with a shout.

“Come on, Ensign!” Commander Rocinante shouted from the sidelines. “Block him! Don’t just dance around like an idiot!”

Your stomach twisting at his insult, you unsheathed your own sword. What the fuck is his problem? Why can’t he cut me a break? With (frankly uncharacteristic) aplomb, you swung hard from overhead. Henri reached up to block, but your strike still had enough force to knock him back several feet.

“Yes!” It was your first solid hit of the fight, and the cheer came out before you even realized it. You glanced nervously back at Commander Rocinante, eager for his approval. Sure enough, the blond man’s lips were curled ever so slightly upward into a smile.

You grinned despite yourself. Finally, you were doing something right. Maybe now you’d feel his hand on your shoulder at the end of training today, instead of watching it touch someone else’s. Now all you had to do was—

“OOF!”

You grunted and stumbled back again as Henri swung back, the flat of his sword hitting you hard in the face. Tripping backward with the force of the hit, you felt your legs collide with something very solid—one of the large rocks that littered the training field. You lost your balance and fell onto the rock hard…

And your sword flew from your grip.

The next part happened in slow motion. You watched, upside down on the boulder, as your sword careened through the air, spinning as it did so. You watched its trajectory as it pointed downward and finally landed…hard…directly in someone’s foot.

Your face turned green when you looked up to see that the foot belonged to none other than Fleet Admiral Sengoku.

“Da-I mean, Fleet Admiral! Are you alright?” Rocinante was there in a second, helping Sengoku over to a rock to sit down. What the hell is he even doing here, anyway?

You were close to being sick with fear when Sengoku took a look down at his foot—and started laughing.

“There’s always one, isn’t there, Commander?”

“Fleet Admiral, we need to get you to the sick bay right now,” Rocinante said frantically, his eyes nearly popping out of his skull in panic as he stared at Sengoku’s wound. “Ensigns Aleppo, Kingston. Help the Fleet Admiral there immediately.”

The ensigns, a short girl with bright green eyes and a barrel-chested young man with a thick beard, obeyed quickly. As they positioned themselves underneath each of Sengoku’s massive arms, your commander turned his attention to you. With the most withering glare you’d ever seen from him, the huge man all but snarled—

“Ensign y/n. Be in my office in five minutes. Understood?”

Swallowing, you nodded. In the distance, you could hear Sengoku laughing as he was helped away.

“I remember when it was you, Rocinante! I remember when that was you!”

————————————-

Tick

Tock.

Tick

Tock.

The silence—broken only by the sound of the clock on Rocinante’s wall—was palpable, so thick you could almost see it hanging in the air. Rocinante stared down at you from the other side of his desk, head resting against tented fingers, his expression unreadable. You could feel the sweat beginning to form on the back of your neck.

Finally, you could take it no longer. “Commander, I am so, so, so sorry—“

“Silent.”

Your voice cut off suddenly. You hadn’t known Rocinante could do that—just shut off your sound like you were some kind of Den Den Moshi.

He stared at you in silence for several excruciating moments, watching you squirm in your seat. Finally, the blond’s lips parted.

“Ensign y/n… What the hell is going on with you?”

You blinked. Not what you’d expected him to say.

“They send you to me and tell me you’re one of the most promising ensigns we’ve ever had. Put me in charge of training you because for some reason they think I’m the man for the job. And this is the kind of shit you pull?”

You visibly gulped, still muted from Rocinante’s silent. What the hell was he talking about, ‘promising’?

“I’ve trained ensigns like you before, ones the Academy calls its best and brightest. They’re always cocky, arrogant little shits who put themselves before their missions and the people they’re pledged to protect. But you…” he leaned across the table, pressing his folded hands to his lips. “You’re clearly smart, strategic, yet you can’t fight to save your life. I can’t figure you out.”

Your face flushed. Him, spending his time thinking about you. The image of him lying on his bed, thoughts full of you, his hand perhaps unzipping his white jeans and —fuck, stop it y/n. Stop wanting stupid shit you can’t have.

You opened your mouth to respond, and mentally kicked yourself when you remembered that you were still muted.

“Oh!” Rocinante laughed suddenly. “Sorry about that.” With a sheepish grin (goofy and endearing despite the tenseness of the situation) he snapped his fingers. “Go ahead and speak freely, Ensign.”

You sighed. You’d felt your frustration building since the beginning of your conversation, and finally it began to spill over.

“First of all, rude putting me on mute like that.”

Rocinante looked away, traces of a smile still present on his face. “Sorry about that.”

“Second of all, what the hell do you mean calling me the best and brightest? I was like, a C student at best at the Academy. I have no idea why they sent me to headquarters of all places.”

Rocinante blinked, his expression shifting into one of surprise. “Did they… did they not tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

Rocinante bit his lip, as though trying to decide something. Finally, he appeared to come to an answer.

“Ensign, you scored higher on the intelligence test than anyone has in the last three years.”

Your mouth dropped as he fixed you with that intense stare.

“I’m sorry, what??”

“Problem solving, pattern recognition, navigation, strategic planning… you scored almost perfectly in all of them. People don’t just get that kind of result unless they really are something special.”

“I…” your mouth opened and shut dumbly, like a fish.

Rocinante waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t care about any of that one way or another as long as you show your worth in my squadron. Your fighting skills right now aren’t up to par, and you know it.”

Your eyes were beginning to feel hot, and you detested yourself for having such a childish response to all that was going on. Fucking hell, you were supposed to be a Marine.

“Commander—I can be better.”

“You will be. Get to the training grounds an hour early starting tomorrow.” He scowled and looked away, gritting his teeth for a moment. “I’ll be—uh—training with you privately in the mornings from now on.”

You felt yourself flush from head to toe. Private training with Rocinante? Every fucking day? You tried to ignore the image filling your head of your tall commander bending you face down over one of those boulders, filling you up with his surely massive cock, his hand tangled hard into your hair. Calm down, y/n, Jesus. The guy fucking hates you anyway.

You swallow, returning your attention to the man in front of you.

“Yes, Commander.”

“Good,” Rocinante said curtly. “Go get lunch. I’ll see you at our afternoon duty.”

You stood up, stumbling a little, unable to believe everything that had just happened. You hadn’t even gotten in trouble.

“Oh, and Ensign y/n?”

You turned back to look at him. “Y-yeah?”

“Those tests weren’t wrong. The-“ he bit his lip—“the intelligence ones I mean. Just because you’re not fighting yet doesn’t mean you’re doing poorly. Even the other ensigns can see it.”

It was all you could do to make it out the door.

Leaving your Commander’s office, your mind was filled to the brim with thoughts about him. The way he’d laughed kindly one minute—rich and melodic, like water filling a stone bowl—glared at you the next. His claims about your intellect; his judgement of your failures. Why couldn’t you get a read on him? God, why did that only make you want him more?

Sitting on Bellemere’s bed that night, you were even less sure.

“So he really didn’t even reprimand you for stabbing the Fleet Admiral? And you’re still convinced this guy hates you?”

“You don’t know what he’s like, Belle-chan!”

“I’ve heard stories about him. Everyone has. He’s supposed to be a pretty good guy. Didn’t he, like, get his promotion to commander because he helped smuggle a whole town’s worth of people off an island that was being destroyed or something?”

“And then he fought to grant them asylum and Marine protection, yeah. I’ve heard the story too.” You pursed your lips, looking down. “What I mean is, you haven’t seen what he’s like around me.”

Bellemere chuckled. “Ah. Yeah, fair.”

A moment of silence—silent like Rocinante silent like that impenetrable bubble around his office silent like his footsteps on the training field silent like his—passed before she spoke again.

“You like this guy, don’t you?”

Your pulse quickened. “What the hell are you even talking about?” You snapped, more aggressively than you intended.

Bellemere bursts out laughing. “That’s exactly what I thought.

“Look, y/n. The way I see it, you have a golden opportunity here. Personal training, every day, from a guy like Rocinante? I’d kill for that. Work hard. Be a better fighter. Show him he was right to give you the second chance he gave you today. Maybe he’ll respond to that.”

“And maybe he won’t.”

“So who gives a shit?? At the very least you’ll be way stronger than you were before. I thought that’s what you wanted.”

You didn’t know what you wanted anymore. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Bellemere tilted her chin up playfully, giving you her trademark cocky grin. “I’m always right.” She turned to look at you. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“Are you gonna ask me about my crushes like a ten year old at a sleepover again?”

“I’m just wondering if…like, if you’re trying to be stronger… why aren’t you using your devil fruit?”

You frowned immediately, turning away. “You know it’s not safe.”

“Maybe not at the academy. But here there’s people who might be able to help you hone it. Maybe even… Commander Rocinante?” She wiggled her eyebrows teasingly to emphasize his name.

“Look, I just can’t, ok? I already accidentally hurt someone today, I don’t want to do it again.”

Bellemere shrugged. “Alright. Work harder not smarter then. Your funeral.”

You laughed despite yourself at the face she made. “Nothing wrong with doing it the old fashioned way.”

“I guess. But if I had a devil fruit you’d bet your ass I’d be using it.” Stretching, Bellemere put her feet up on her desk. “Anyway, you wanna hear more about this girl on my squadron? We had a drunk makeout session two nights ago and I haven’t even gotten to tell you yet.”

Smiling, you shook the thoughts of Rocinante and devil fruits from your head, at least for now. “Do you care if I open this sake I brought while I listen?”

“Bitch you had sake this whole time?? Give it here!”

——————————————————————

The next morning, despite your slight hangover, you somehow made it to the training grounds fifteen minutes before Commander Rocinante asked you to be there—the ungodly hour of 4:15 in the morning. Between sips from your thermos of coffee, you stretched, twisting your arms above your head, bending from side to side. You were completely bent over into downward dog—Bellemere had gotten you into yoga recently—when you heard the sound of a throat clearing behind you.

Whipping around (and nearly falling on your face as you did so), you see your commander towering over you, an uncomfortable blush on his face, his eyes directly on your… fuck.

“I’m, uh—glad you got here early, Ensign.” Rocinante bit his lip awkwardly, turning away to look anywhere but at you. “Let’s—let’s get started then.” He jogged toward the middle of the training field, making it about three steps before his foot caught on a rock. He went down hard, directly on his face.

Why the hell was he so bumbling and weird all the time? You pondered to yourself as you ran over to help the hulking man to his feet. He shrugged you off immediately as you touched his shoulder, flinching away from your touch. “I’m fine, Ensign. Go grab one of the weapons I brought from the armory.”

There were several different types of weapons for you to choose from, a mercy you were grateful for. Headquarters was so insistent on every Ensign being able to use a sword, but you’d always preferred something smaller, something for closer quarters. Picking up a pair of short-handled broadaxes on a whim, you followed Rocinante out onto the field.

He smiled a bit when he saw your choice. “An axe man, eh? Why didn’t you go for the halberd?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “It’s too big. Too hard to hit someone, I guess.”

“Not that you’ve been doing much of that anyway…” Rocinante chuckled.

“Hey! I hit someone yesterday, didn’t I?” You couldn’t help but grin along with him.

Rocinante laughed out loud. “That’s the most impressive thing you’ve done since you’ve gotten here. Sengoku is fine, by the way—you barely scratched him.”

“So he’s not gonna discharge me or anything then?”

“Nah. To be honest, we’ve seen recruits do worse than that.” Rocinante unsheathed his broadsword, examining it habitually for sharpness and cleanliness. “If you’re gonna fight with a weapon you like, I’ll fight with my favorite weapon too.” He set the sword down on the grass beside him, then cracked his knuckles.

Your stomach dropped. It was well-known that Rocinante was almost as deadly a martial artist as he was a sharpshooter. Crouching nervously, you balanced your weight and prepared to fight.

Rocinante struck first, a hard roundhouse kick aimed at the left ear. You just barely managed to duck, his black loafer skimming the top of your head. You swung one of your axes at his stomach (considering Rocinante’s height, this was about as high as you could reach) but Rocinante grabbed it, twisting it hard and throwing you off balance.

You hit the ground with a thud. One of your commander’s massive shoes rested on your chest, pinning you. Already??

“Get back up. Let’s go again.” He offered you his hand, and you took it, letting him pull you to your feet. His hand was broad and very rough—years of fighting and sailing mapped in calluses across his fingers and palm—and you suppressed a shiver as you noticed how small yours was in his.

“Fighting stance, Ensign.” Rocinante prepared himself to battle you again. Shaking off your momentary reverie, you picked up your axe.

Here we go.

The first week’s training was full of many, many losses for you. The axes were definitely an improvement to the short sword, but not enough of one to make any real difference against an opponent like Rocinante. It amazed you how agile he was, how he attacked fluidly from all sides, how he dodged your blows so effortlessly.

How he tripped and fell flat on his face the second he was no longer in attack mode.

Hard to figure out, that man.

It went on like that, day after day of waking up at the crack of dawn, heading to the training fields to invariably get your ass kicked. But oddly, you didn’t mind. Rocinante was beginning to get more and more friendly toward you, letting that indecipherable guard of his down bit by bit as the days blended into weeks. Once he even cracked one of his terrible dad jokes about an admittedly unfortunate pair of shoes you’d chosen to wear—and you laughed despite yourself. Even if you weren’t getting any better, at least you were finally forming some sort of connection with your commander outside of the suffocating tension you were used to.

It was nearly a month into your personal training sessions that you finally had your breakthrough.

Rocinante was challenging you today. Keeping his distance, always slightly out of your range. At first it had been smooth and elegant, but at this point he was basically just teasing you—sticking his tongue out at you, taunting your attacks, giving you a hard time. You were finally starting to see that goofy side of him that everyone else loved, but you were so frustrated that you couldn’t enjoy yourself. You’d been getting faster. Why couldn’t you hit him even once?

“Ensign, think,” Rocinante advised you, continuing to duck and dodge around your attacks. “Find a way to hit me from a distance.”

Oh god. He wanted you to…

“I, uh, I don’t throw things. Like ever.”

“Bet you’ll be wishing you did when you’re dead on a battlefield.” Rocinante remarked. “Come on, show me what you’ve got.”

“I said no, ok?”

“Fine,” said Rocinante with a somewhat childish smirk. “Then we’ll resume training as soon as you’re willing to do that for me.” And with that, he straightened up and walked over to a nearby boulder where he proceeded to sit there, staring at you, head in his hands. Fucking asshole.

With a sigh, you dropped your weapons to your sides. “Look, Commander, I… do you not know about my devil fruit?”

Rocinante blinked. “Your what now?”

“It, uh… should’ve been in my file.”

“Trust me, I read that thing cover to cover. The Academy must’ve forgotten to mention it, especially if you don’t use it very often.”

He read my file cover to cover he read it cover to cover “I, uh… I never use it, actually.”

Rocinante gestured to the boulder beside him Holy shit he wants me to sit next to him what if he puts his arm around me I will die I will truly die and you came over, dropping down beside him with none of the grace you were hoping for.

“So what’s the fruit then?” Rocinante asks, his tone not unkind.

“It’s called the Pitch-Pitch fruit, sir.”

“So I imagine it has something to do with throwing?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Wanna show it to me?”

“No, not at all.”

“Y/n…”

You turned to look at him, your mouth dropping open. He’d never called you by your name before, not without “Ensign” in front of it.

“I was terrified of my devil fruit when I got it. I was just a kid, and at first I hated the silence. When there’s no noise, your brain kinda fills in the blanks with whatever sounds you’re most afraid of. It was horrible for a long time.”

He’d never spoken to you so candidly before. Hell, you weren’t sure if you’d ever heard him speak to anyone so candidly before. While the commander was friendly and kind to all, you had to admit that you couldn’t recall a single time he’d ever spoken about his own past. Why to you?

“But my da—I mean, Fleet Admiral Sengoku—helped me turn my power into something good for me.” He chuckled and looked up, reminiscing. “I was almost a worse fighter than you are back then. Used to be as clumsy and awkward on the battlefield as I am off of it. He showed me how to use my fruit in combination with observational haki to give me a huge advantage.

“Now when I use my power, I can feel things with that haki to ‘hear’ all the things you miss out on when there’s sound. Everything from the energy of my enemies to the energy of a beetle digging a den five hundred feet away. I was so afraid of using silent for so long, but it turned out to be the thing that made me into a powerful fighter.”

You sat wordlessly for a moment, watching the towering man be more vulnerable than you’d ever seen him. It was strange. But…nice.

Finally, you spoke. “So what you’re saying is, if I have this power…”

Rocinante nodded. “You should use it.”

You swallowed hard, then rose to your feet. “Alright.” Picking up one of your axes, you added, “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Taking a deep breath, you squeezed your eyes shut. Please, please don’t let me hurt anyone. Lifting your arm, you tossed the axe as gently as you could in the direction of the large hill that stood at the edge of the training grounds.

With the whooshing boom of the sound barrier breaking, the axe flew from your hand so fast that it was completely invisible. A moment later, a rumble and a huge crash echoed from the hill as the axe flew cleanly through it and out the other side.

You turned, cringing, back to Rocinante. “So anyway, that’s the Pitch Pitch fruit…”

Your commander’s jaw was nearly on the floor, his eyes bugging out of his head. “Y-y/n… you’ve been able to do that this whole time??”

“Like I said, it’s really dangerous…”

“Yeah, you throw an axe at an enemy like that and you’ll kick their ass, no questions asked! Shit, I kinda wish I could do that…”

“So you think I should keep using it then? Even during training?”

“Hell yes I do! It’s the coolest thing ever!!” Rocinante’s eyes were lit up like a little kid watching a wrestler or a mecha battle on TV. “We’ll have to get you something lighter to throw during training, that should help mitigate some of the damage…but you should be proud you have that ability, Ensign y/n.”

You blushed. For the first time, you actually felt kind of… ok with your power. Rocinante was the first person to tell you it was anything but a nuisance at worst, a death trap at best. Looking at the massive hole through the hill at the other end of the field, you had to admit—maybe the man was onto something.

___________________________________

THREE MONTHS LATER

“Can you believe it, y/n??”

You flinched as Recruit Aleppo squealed into your ear, appearing from somewhere behind you.

“Jesus, Aleppo, I know! First mission, very exciting. Can you maybe not make me go deaf next time?”

“Oh, yeah,” the young woman giggled. “I guess that’s kind of our Commander’s job, isn’t it?”

You said nothing, instead choosing to gaze out onto the endless sea before you. It had been nearly six months since you’d been on a ship—the last time being when you’d arrived at Headquarters—and you’d forgotten how much you loved the smell of salt in the air, the strange quality of the breeze that seemed to carry adventure on its tongue.

“Crete-de-Vague Island is supposed to be super rich and fancy, yknow,” Aleppo was babbling on blithely. “They make the world’s finest furs there! Coats and shawls and purses… ooh, maybe we’ll have time to go shopping!”

You nodded briefly but otherwise ignored your fellow recruit. You were too busy reflecting on your conversation with Rocinante from that morning.

“I don’t think I’m ready for this,” you’d said as he helped you load weapons and supplies onto the boat.

“Trust me, y/n,” Rocinante had grunted, lifting a box onto his shoulder, “I wouldn’t be taking you along if I didn’t think you were ready for this.”

“This just seems like a big step, y’know? We haven’t been training for that long…”

Setting down the box in the cargo bay, Rocinante walked toward you. What he did next had nearly made you swoon.

Slowly, he’d knelt in front of you, bending his knees until his eyes had aligned with yours god the shades of red in those eyes… And then he had smiled—that big cheesy grin of his that he’d only very recently started sharing with you. Throwing up a peace sign, he had loudly proclaimed—

“I believe in you, y/n!”

The high was more than enough to carry you through the morning’s tedious preparations to set sail.

So he trusted you enough to send you on a mission, then. Finally, after so much time, you were beginning to break through into him, be a person Rocinante could put his faith in.

You wouldn’t let him down.

It took you all of five days of sailing to reach Crete-de-Vague, where you’d been asked to clear out some pirates who had taken over and started stealing those famous furs. A straightforward enough mission, it would seem.

In between training sessions and briefings on the pirates you were preparing to fight, the squadron’s attitude was lively. There was no small amount of alcohol consumed in the evenings, with your commander often at the center of the festivities.

He really was a wonder to watch, that man, the way he made every person on your squadron feel valued and seen and heard. As ridiculous as he could often be—tripping over his own feet, cracking terrible one liners—every single one of you looked up to and adored him.

One night after everyone had gone to bed, you found yourself on the deck, a little drunk, looking out again onto the black and eternal sea that had captured your attention so thoroughly in recent days You were so captivated by the soft rise and fall of the waves that you hardly noticed the gentle footsteps approaching you.

When Rocinante leaned against the half-wall next to you, you jumped. “Jesus, Commander, warn a guy next time!”

That sheepish grin of his again, and he spoke, words imperceptibly slurred. “M’bad.” So he was a bit drunk as well, but then you weren’t particularly surprised. There’d been a lot of sake floating around tonight, and you’d watched him go head to head with Recruit Keiryo to see who could drink more (the commander had won, of course, being twice the size of both Keiryo and everyone else on the squadron).

“Yer not seasick, are you? First time I sailed more’n a few days, I was in the sick bay more than I was out of it,” Rocinante chuckled as he lit a cigarette, his eyes on the sea.

“Oh, uh…nah, I’m good. I have a pretty strong stomach. Didn’t have a lot of food as a kid, had to eat what we could find. It sucked at the time, but now I never get sick,” you commented thoughtlessly.

You regretted the words as soon as they’d left your mouth. Not even Bellemere knew the extent of what you’d been through before joining the Navy. The pirate boss who’d controlled everything leaving and entering your island, the droughts that had left your family’s little patch of farmland barren as bones, the way you and your mother had had to pick pirates’ pockets just to feed yourselves and your baby sister—oh god don’t think about her don’t think about your baby sister—the way you’d eaten your devil fruit because it was the only food you could find. No one here was ever supposed to know any of that.

But Rocinante turned to look at you, an expression you’d never seen before on his face. “So… y’know what it’s like to be hungry too. Figures. I knew there was a reason we got along.”

Your face was burning, heart beating fast. How the hell did this man keep burrowing his way into the bottom of you, pulling out the truths you were most scared of admitting and holding them up to the light to watch the beams shine clean through them? First the stuff about the intelligence test at the academy, then your fruit, now the stuff that woke you up in cold sweats at night. This strange need for me to know him, this stranger need for him to never know me…

“M’brother and me spent around two years havin’ to dig through the garbage for food.” Rocinante said abruptly. When you didn’t respond, his face turned pink. “Just, like… somethin’ you and I have in common, I guess.”

Eager to turn the conversation away from yourself, you replied. “I didn’t know you even had a brother. He in the Marines?”

Rocinante laughed out loud, partially from relief that he hadn’t offended you. “No. My brother… I don’t think he’d be caught dead in the Marines. But we haven’t talked in a long time, so… who knows, I guess?”

“Why don’t you talk?” You ask, somewhat distractedly. You’d just noticed how close the commander was standing to you. You could almost feel the energy sparking from his arm that rested mere inches from yours.

“Oh, y’know. He’s a terrible person.” Rocinante shrugged and looked away from you again, his face now bright red. It was clear that was the only explanation you’d be getting. “What about your family? You close to them?”

As he spoke, the commander gently rested his big, callused hand over yours.

Why were the two of you sitting here, having this conversation that it was clear neither of you wanted to have? Why couldn’t you just walk away? You could feel the irritation rising in you. After all this time, now he was trying to be close to you, now he wanted to be your friend, now he wanted to do…whatever the fuck he was doing touching you like this, like you’d desperately wanted, like you were furious to admit you enjoyed in this moment.

“Look, Commander. It’s frankly none of your fucking business, ok?” You yanked your hand out from underneath his large one and turned away, walking quickly back toward the barracks. “‘M going to bed.”

“Hey, Ensign?”

Great. Pulling the rank card on you.

“What?” You all but spat at him, wheeling around. The look on his face almost melted you. Soft, slightly disappointed but much more full of a strange sorrow you couldn’t quite place. Later you would realize it was sympathy.

“Whatever happened to you… I’m sorry.” He said, so softly it was almost a whisper. You felt your eyes welling up as you turned away and stormed back to the barracks.

You took one of Ensign Henri’s sleeping pills (idiot, just leaving them out like that) when you got back, stripping down and getting into bed in record time. Thoughts pounded through your head as you waited for the drug to hit you, desperate for the release of sleep. Why do I want him so bad? Why is he so insistent on knowing me? Why do I care? Why do I want him? Why do I want him? Why do I want him?

The last thought that you remembered before the haze of pill-induced sleep took you over echoed through your head like a ghost in a very old house.

What am I so afraid of?

—————————————————————

Aleppo hadn’t been wrong. Crete-de-Vague was beautiful.

As you hopped off your ship and walked into port, you couldn’t take your eyes off the town that rose above you, built into the hillside. Flowering trees grew everywhere, sending bright red petals and an aroma reminiscent of persimmon scattering onto the breeze. Huge Tudor-style houses, packed closely together by the necessity of city living, lined the steep cobblestone streets.

But the dock was nearly empty when you’d arrived. Strangely silent for a port. No workers to help with your cargo, no other ships to give you a sense of who was present in the city.

Well, except for one.

A massive barquentine ship, built from dark mahogany, floated hulking and foreboding in the dock beside yours. The sails were a deep shade of black, and the flag flapping above the crows nest was unmistakably a Jolly Roger.

The tension was blanketlike over the squadron as you all followed Rocinante past the docks and up the hill toward the center of town (minus Rhys and Hidalgo, who were guarding the ship and keeping the cannons manned). No one said anything about the other boat.

“Don’t forget, ensigns—they probably already know we’re here,” Rocinante was warning you as you approached the first buildings. “When pirates take over an island like this, they usually put eyes everywhere. Be ready to fight at a second’s notice.”

The buildings that had looked so glamorous from the port were beginning to bely evidence of a struggle as you got closer. Smashed windows, boarded up doors, smoldering cannonballs embedded in walls. It was clear that whatever was happening here had been hard on the citizens of Crete-de-Vague.

You could feel nausea setting in as you got deeper and deeper into the city. Not out of fear at what you were about to do—Rocinante’s proclaimed belief in you had seemed to get rid of that, even if you were a bit irritated with him at the moment. No, these houses with their busted support beams and rubble on the doorstep were burying themselves uncomfortably inside your memories of childhood. The way you and your friends had played on top of rubble from a statue blown to bits. The way you’d had to bolt if the pirates were around and hope to god some neighbor was kind enough to let you in. The way they’d broken down your door in the middle of the night and taken the last of your dead father’s pension and hurt your mother and oh god your baby sister

You were starting to feel dizzy on your feet, the edges of your vision beginning to blacken. Just as you were sure you were about to collapse, a massive hand rested on your shoulder.

“You’ll be all right, Ensign. Breathe.”

And while you shoved his hand off your shoulder

asshole trying to act like he knows my business

and walked ahead of him, you did breathe. And it helped.

As you approached a flat expanse between the buildings toward the top of the hill—ostensibly the square, although it had seen much better days—Rocinante used his baby Den Den Moshi to radio in to Sengoku, his commanding officer (you weren’t even going to pretend like you knew how that worked). “Yeah, we’re here. You said the mayor was supposed to meet us?”

Sengoku’s voice, crackling over the receiver and out of the snail’s mouth. “That was the plan, in the town square. How’s the damage to the city?”

“Looks pretty bad. There’s no people around either.”

“Yes, the person who reported the pirates said that folks there were afraid to leave their houses. I’m surprised the mayor isn’t there yet, though.”

“Yeah, we haven’t s—“

A dull thud, like a bag of sand, broke the silence of the empty square, echoing just behind you and the other recruits. Rocinante stopped speaking immediately, silencing his Den Den Moshi with a click and putting it into his pocket.

Slowly, you all turned around.

There, on the ground, in a position like a broken marionette, laid an older man—or at least the body of one. Blood drenched his white shirt and tie. Getting closer, it was easy to see that his throat had been cut—or rather, ripped open. An expression of pleading terror was frozen on his creased face.

The squadron was painfully, excruciatingly silent.

Then a high pitched voice from somewhere above you broke the taut quiet—“Don’t worry, the mayor made it on time after all! Didn’t he, boys?”

At least thirty additional voices shouted out cheers from somewhere on the rooftops.

You could feel the pall as every marine’s stomach dropped out at the same time.

Rocinante, however, seemed to have no such fear. His eyes were glowing with a breed of fury you didn’t know was possible from the normally easygoing man. He was staring at a nearby chimney with intensity—his haki must have clued him in to where the first voice was coming from.

“Squadron, prepare to engage.” He spoke, gritting his teeth, never taking his eyes off the chimney. Obeying your commander, the ensigns took fighting stances and drew weapons. You pulled two axes from your belt (you’d been carrying six at a time since you’d started using your devil fruit more) and got ready. This was what you’d been training for. This was your chance to show what you were truly capable of.

“Let ‘em have it, boys!” The voice behind the chimney roared. Stepping out from his hiding spot, you caught a glimpse of the man who’d been terrorizing Crete-de-Vague all this time. Skin so pale it was almost translucent. Long black hair twisted into a hundred tiny braids. Wiry build, sharp jaw, heavy shadows surrounding his protruding collarbone and shoulders.

Torrez Diego.

He almost would’ve been hot if he weren’t so scary.

But your chances to ruminate on your enemy’s fuckability were cut short as close to forty pirates poured down from the rooftops into the square, cutlasses drawn, guns at the ready. You watched a muscular middle aged woman with a mole on her chin fling herself at Henri, laughing as he frantically blocked her attacks. Rocinante was fighting two men at once, dancing between their kicks and blows (and quite frankly kicking their asses). Kingston ducked and barely avoided having his head shot off with a…holy shit, a fucking bazooka. These guys weren’t fucking around.

But you knew your directive. You stayed still and watched Diego closely. He was dodging the occasional shot from Ensign Parvati, your squadron’s best sharpshooter, which she was barely managing to fire in between rounds of grappling with a massive, rotund man who seemed to be excellent at throwing his weight around. You waited.

And when Torrez Diego suddenly smiled and raised his left hand, you grabbed your axe tightly and bent your legs, preparing.

When he shouted, “Seam tear!” You flung it as hard as you could.

Two things happened at once, as if in slow motion. First, your axe shot at impossibly breakneck speeds through the air toward Diego, booming through the sound barrier as it prepared to knock him through the next three buildings. Second, Diego’s devil fruit power—his seam tear— began to take effect. With the sound of a thousand pieces of paper tearing at once, a massive rip began at Diego’s outstretched hand. It traveled down the building he was atop and into the square, splitting the ground itself beneath your feet. The ensigns dove into chaos, leaping out of the way of the massive chasm that formed within seconds; the Torrez pirates simply laughed as they took cover on either side of it.

Meanwhile, your axe flew and flew through the air.

And missed.

Diego felt the axe whiz by his right ear and turned back, watching as it flew through three buildings before finally embedding itself in a steel wall.

A miss, after all this fucking practice, a miss. What the fuck is wrong with me?

And his attention turned to you.

“Well look at that! It’s not often you see an ensign who’s a devil fruit user!” Diego grinned, showing long yellowing teeth. Never mind about the hot stuff… “Why don’t you take me one on one, and we’ll see whose fruit is better, eh?” With a chuckle, he climbed off the roof of the building in a single jump and began walking toward you.

You weren’t a hand-to-hand fighter. Sure, you could hold your own with the axes, but not against someone like this. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…

“Y/n!”

Rocinante grabbed your hand out of nowhere, pulling you along with him. With a surprisingly graceful leap forward, he tapped Diego quickly on the shoulder.

“Silent!”

You watched the now familiar blue shimmer of energy as it enveloped Diego, leaving him completely deaf and mute. His face paled as he touched his ears frantically, his eyes widening in shock.

It gave you just enough time for Rocinante to pull you into a side street. The two of you hurtled down it as Diego shook his head, finally coming to his senses, and began to pursue you.

You could feel the man’s presence behind you, sense his haki—something you were slowly learning how to do—but you were unable to hear his footsteps, his breathing, his furious jeers. The effect was jarring as you and your commander plunged deeper and deeper into the labyrinthine side streets of Crete-de-Vague.

“Commander, I let you down. I’m so sorry.” You managed as the two of you ran, Rocinante pulling you in what felt like random directions. Was he trying to throw Diego off?

“Don’t worry about it, Ensign. Happens to everyone. It just means we have to—he grunted as he yanked you hard to the right and up a small flight of stairs—“rethink our battle strategy a bit is all.”

“What about the others?”

“Y/n, our squadron is tough as nails. I have no doubts they’ll beat those pi—shit.”

A dead ended alley.

Desperately, you and Rocinante glanced around for doors, for something you could climb on to get over the wall, for anything.

There was nothing.

You could both feel Diego’s haki, getting closer and closer to you, and the man surely had only blood on his mind.

You were fucked, if neither of you could…. Wait.

Stupid.

You chided yourself mentally as you flung an axe at the wall before you. A terrific boom, and the two of you suddenly had an instant pathway right through the building and out the other side! …Even if it was a bit covered in rubble.

Rocinante laughed out loud. “Wow, very impressive, Ensign!”

You couldn’t help but grin back at him as the two of you continued forward. But as you looked behind you, your stomach dropped.

You had lost too much time on the wall, and Torrez was right on your back. Reaching for you, his lips curling to form the words. Seam tear.

A rip shot out from the man’s fingers, aimed directly at your commander.

“Rocinante!” You shouted, trying to alert him. Your commander turned back, and as if in slow motion he

Saw Diego.

Saw the rip.

Dodged it.

Tripped.

Coming in with the worst possible timing in human history, midway through his dodge to the left Rocinante’s foot hit a loose cobblestone. It sent him flying to the right somehow, too far, and you watched in sickened horror as Diego’s rip hit Rocinante hard and climbed up his inner leg, a spray of blood accompanying it.

“Commander!” You could barely even recognize your voice as your own as Rocinante went down, hard, his head slapping the pavement. You were at his side in a second, squeezing his hand (god why were you squeezing his hand after everything) as Rocinante groaned, tried to stand up, fell.

Diego was grinning at you, baring his long yellow teeth like fangs. He spoke, but no sound came out—but you didn’t need to hear him to know he was telling you all the gruesome ways he was going to kill you. If he would just let his guard down, you could throw an axe, but his attention was laser focused on you and your (bleeding semiconscious really very badly injured) commander.

And you remembered something you’d learned about the man in your briefing. He was known to be a sucker for flattery.

Thank god you’d actually paid attention.

“Commander, I know you’re hurt, but can you turn off his silent? Trust me.”

A snap of his fingers—he must have been just aware enough to hear you—and Diego’s voice boomed into focus.

“—plenty of things my crew can think of to do to little queers like you, and—“

“Jesus, you almost killed him! That’s a marine Commander! How did you do that?” You interrupted, looking up at him, cringing at your own bad acting and hoping to hell you weren’t being too obvious.

Torrez Diego paused for a moment, looking down on you appraisingly. Then he smiled.

“I’m the strongest pirate this half of the sea, kid. Bounty of 35 million, in case they didn’t mention it at pansy navy boy school. I’ve killed men twice as strong as your Commander here.”

You leaned forward, eyes wide. “You’ve killed others?”

“You’d better believe it. In pretty fucked up ways too, just ask my crew.”

“Would you, um…” you blinked innocently, pushing your ass out just slightly. Might as well play the game if you were gonna play the game. “Would you tell me about some of them?”

Diego grinned, clearly checking you out a bit in your new position. Wow. This guy was a fucking moron.

“You wanna hear about the time I keel-hauled a woman for cheating on me?”

You nodded, feigning excitement. “Grab that crate and sit down. Tell me everything!”

“Even the little baby marines are impressed by me, the greatest pirate in this corner of Paradise.” He chuckled. And he

Turned

Around.

Idiot.

With lightning speed you grabbed an axe from your hip and flung it hard. The alleyway was too tight quarters for you to miss again, and the weapon hit him right in the back, digging in so deeply that the blade protruded out the other side. With a sickening groan, Diego fell to his knees, touching the axe sticking out of his chest softly. He turned white-faced to look at you, opened his mouth as if to speak… and collapsed.

It only took a moment until the man was still.

“Rocinante!” You all but screamed, turning to your commanding officer on the ground beside you. He was attempting to sit up, his legs splayed out awkwardly in front of him, one of his white pant legs torn and irreparably stained with blood.

“Jesus Christ y/n, you really saved my ass with that one. You ok?”

“You need medical care, Commander,” you spluttered, face turning red at how casually he spoke to you in the face of such a severe injury. “Look, I’ve got my field medic kit and you know it’s one of the few things I’m really good at. Let me take a look at it.”

Rocinante hesitated, then nodded. Indicating the war-torn building to your right, he remarked, “Pretty sure that place is abandoned. Let’s do it there.”

You put one of his massive arms around your shoulder (so close he’s so close), using all your strength to hoist him up enough to make it to the door. Locked. You went to grab an axe, but Rocinante suddenly knocked it off its hinges with a kick from his good leg, leaning on you to keep his balance.

“Jesus dude, you’re fucking injured!”

“I haven’t been any help whatsoever today. Let me do something at least!”

You could feel his grin behind you. Trying to make you laugh, you knew. Keep the mood light so you don’t freak out about the fact that he might be bleeding to death. As annoying as it was, you could feel your stomach warming. Kind, that man.

You lay Rocinante down on a slightly moldy-smelling fur rug, one of the only signs anyone had ever lived here. The rest of the house was empty and covered in dust.

Quickly, you pulled your pack off and grabbed your medic kit, pulling out disinfectant, a roll of gauze, a needle with surgical thread.

“Ok, I—I’m gonna have to take your pants off, Commander.” You blushed deep red as you realized what you were saying. Sparing a peek at Rocinante’s face, his was somehow even redder than yours.

“Oh, I can—��

“No, let me do that part.”

“Fuck, ow, a little slower, y/n.”

“Sorry, sorry…”

Through an extremely awkward working dialogue, you managed to get Rocinante’s pants unbuttoned and slid them down to the floor until he was able to kick them off.

Just looking at his muscular thighs—scarred from what you assumed was years of training and battles—was enough to send blood flowing from your red face to a very different part of your anatomy. And the slight gap between those thighs and the hem of his boxers…

Fucking shit, y/n. Focus.

Swallowing hard (and hoping to hell Rocinante didn’t notice the sudden bulge in your pants), you moved to his right ankle, where the rip started. The injury was surprisingly not as bad as you’d expected it to be—instead of a leg torn in half, what you were looking at was simply a very long, very deep cut traveling up Rocinante’s inner thigh to his…oh fuck, it went nearly to his groin. This was something you could actually handle medically. It would remain to be seen if you could handle it for other reasons.

“Commander, how the hell did you avoid getting your leg completely torn to shreds here?”

“Armament haki. I’ll show you some stuff sometime.” Rocinante sat up to watch you as you examined his wound, supporting himself on his hands.

“That’s cool, Commander. I’d like that,” you said, smiling at him. He’ll be ok, he’s gonna be ok. “Ok, bite your sleeve or something. I’m putting on disinfectant, it’s gonna hurt.”

Rocinante nodded and did as he was told, grunting in pain as you splashed a liberal amount of the stuff up and down his leg, closing your eyes and thinking about anything else when you reached his upper thigh.

“Ok, I’m gonna start sewing you up. No anesthetic, but hold on, ok? Let me take care of you, Commander.”

You were almost embarrassed of the words coming out of your mouth—needy bottom shit—but you couldn’t deny how relieved you were that your friend and commanding officer was ok. And that you got to be the one to help him heal…

“You already saved my life once today, y/n. It’s kind of you that you’re willing to do it again,” Rocinante said with a grimace of pain as you began to stitch him up.

“Yeah, well… you’re kinda my mentor, so I didn’t have much of a choice.”

Rocinante grinned. “You think of me as your mentor??? Y/n… that’s so sweet!”

Your heart stuttered at his warm response, emotions swirling in your brain, unable to decide if you liked this or didn’t like this.

Rocinante continued. “After that fight we had the other night, I wasn’t sure you even liked me.”

“I like you. I just don’t like people bothering me about my past. I’m trying to move on, ok?”

Rocinante was quiet for a long moment, only the nauseating sounds of needle through flesh sounding in the room.

Finally, he spoke. “I know it doesn’t feel like talking about it will help. But I promise you it does.”

“What would you know about it? Other than you and your brother dumpster diving for a few years or whatever.”

Rocinante’s face was serious. “My entire family were treated as pariahs. My mother died because people wouldn’t give us medical treatment. We got attacked by both children and adults almost every day. Sometimes they’d sic dogs on us. Once they even tried to burn our whole family at the stake. And then in the end, my brother murdered my father in front of me.”

Your jaw dropped, and you stopped stitching, looking up at your commander with your mouth agape.

Rocinante suddenly smiled. “Wow, it feels so much better to talk about it! Ok, now you.”

“W-what??”

“Now you tell me yours!”

You spluttered. “It doesn’t work like that! What the fuck do you mean your brother killed your father??”

Rocinante smiled. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

You’re glared at him. “Not gonna happen. Now hold still so I can finish.” You had almost reached your commander’s groin, and while your hands were sweaty and your heart was racing, you weren’t about to quit with his wound half stitched (even if he was annoying the hell out of you right now).

In silence, you finished stitching your commander’s wound (your hand brushing excruciatingly, temptingly close to his cock as you did so) and bandaged his whole leg, neither of you speaking.

Finally, Rocinante broke the quiet. “Whatever it is, I’m really proud of you for becoming the man you are today despite it, y/n.”

You look up at him, the compliment kinder than anything you’d heard since your mother passed.

“…I’m checking your eyes for a concussion, dipshit.”

Wordlessly, you straddle him and push up onto your knees, pulling his head down to look into the taller man’s eyes. You can smell him—a mixture of blood, good tobacco, and better cologne—and you’re aware of the intimacy of the position. If you lowered yourself, you’d be sitting on his…

Don’t think about that now.

Think about the disarming reddish brown hue of his eyes. Think about the beads of sweat on his temple. Think about his hair, his golden hair that must be so soft to touch… think about…

“You’re an incredible marine, y/n,” Rocinante murmured. “An incredible friend. And a—“ he hesitated, but did not break the eye contact— “a really beautiful man.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Rocinante never looked away from you, but his hand gently touched your knee.

Don’t do it. No matter how much you want it. Don’t do it. Don’t let him in. Don’t.

Don’t.

Your lips crashed into Rocinante’s with a vengeance, your hands tangling up into that yes I was right it’s so soft golden hair, and he grabbed you and tugged you against him, moaning against your mouth as you clung to him.

“Y/n…” Rocinante gasped, his hands sliding up and down your body, under your white marine shirt to caress the newly developing musculature of your chest—all that training had been kind to you—and you should care you should stop him but you didn’t, you couldn’t, your tongue was in his mouth, your fingers were plucking at the buttons of his shirt, Rocinante, Rocinante….

“Wanted you like this for so long, y/n…” Rocinante was panting as he broke off the kiss to breathe into your ear. “I know it’s wrong, I know you’re my subordinate, but fuck, y/n… every single fucking day during training, every single fucking night when I couldn’t sleep… you’ve been stuck in my thoughts like one of your fucking axes sticking into a target…”

Raising your eyebrows, you glanced out the window at the axe sticking into (and through) Torrez Diego. Rocinante followed your eye and laughed embarrassedly.

“Ok, maybe not the best metaphor.”

“Commander, please don’t talk. Please just… take me,” you said softly. Your shirts were both off now, and you were caressing the stunning, well defined muscles of his abs and chest, your cock achingly hard in your pants. Scars—cuts, burns, long ropy deep ones of uncertain origin—littered the broad expanse of his torso, matching the ones on his legs. So he hadn’t been lying about his childhood.

As you pulled yourself closer to him, gazing up into his eyes, feeling his (holy shit it’s massive) hardening cock pressing against your ass, you couldn’t help but ask. “I didn’t even think you were into men. In fact, I’ve seen you on dates with women before.”

Rocinante shrugged, his hands sliding up and down your body, fingertips sending lightning bolts into your groin. “Gender is made up anyway. Anyone can be hot, don’t you think?”

“Eh. I’ll leave the women to you.”

Rocinante chuckled. “That means this man gets to be all mine.” With that he grabbed your ass hard with both hands, yanking you so close to him that you could feel his heartbeat reverberating through your chest.

“Fuck, Commanderrrrrr…” you groaned as he squeezed and caressed your ass, every motion sending a drop of precum leaking from your achingly hard cock, staining your standard issue uniform.

“Don’t call me that, don’t call me Commander,” he murmured roughly. “Call me Roci, y/n.”

Roci? You’d never heard anyone but his very closest friends call him that. You tried it out slowly. “Roci…”

His smile was like none you’d ever seen before from him, and it sent chills of want shimmering through you from head to toe.

“Fuck me, Roci!” You finally managed, grinding your hips desperately back and forth on his cock, trying as best you could to be careful of the new stitches but needing him inside you so badly that it hurt.

Wordlessly, Rocinante grabbed you by the waist and flipped you over, landing you back-first on the fur rug as he leaned over you, his face flushed, one hand sliding up to caress your cheek.

“Jesus, Roci, be careful—you’re still injured, y’know!”

He glanced down at his leg. “Eh. I’ve fucked people I wanted less with bigger wounds than this one. And besides, you won’t mind if I have to…readjust occasionally, will you?”

Smiling, you shook your head. “Not in the slightest.”

“Good,” he said softly. Leaning down, hand still on your cheek, Roci kissed you with a warmth and tenderness you’d never experienced before. Loving, gentle, sweet.

You knew it was a bad idea, but you couldn’t help but return the kiss—and the absolutely smitten gaze he gave you afterwards.

“Can I take these off?” Rocinante’s big hands were suddenly playing at your belt, and you felt your cock twitch hard at the proximity.

“Yes, jesus, yes,” you arched your hips up to allow him to remove the garment, biting back your moans as the fabric slid over your rock hard cock.

“And the underwear?” He asked, a note of hesitancy in his voice.

Not that he needed to hesitate. You nodded eagerly, hooking your fingers into the waistband of your boxers right along with his and sliding them off, discarding them on the dusty floor. You lay naked on the rug in front of him.

“Fucking hell….” Roci breathed as he stared at your cock. “Please, y/n… please let me touch you…”

You grabbed his hand yourself and moved it to the base of your cock, not breaking eye contact. You couldn’t believe you’d ever denied to yourself that you needed this. Holy shit. You NEEDED this.

Rocinante gripped you gently and slowly began to stroke your member, bowing his head to kiss your hipbones and exposed stomach as he did so. You knew what you were working with was pretty decent—plenty of guys had complimented you on your dick before—but you couldn’t deny that in your Commander’s massive hands it looked positively small.

Not that either of you minded.

The sensation of him gently squeezing your cock as he slid his hand up and down your length was enough to make you physically dizzy. Your head fell back with a moan as he caressed you.

“Please, Rociiiiii….”

When he gently swirled his tongue around the head of your cock, you were finished.

Bucking your hips up, you wailed, gripping the soft fur rug beneath you as your commanding officer took your member into his mouth.

Gently, Roci bobbed his head up and down along your length, sucking it deeply into his mouth, sliding his tongue along the underside. He followed the motions of his mouth with his hand, stroking you, his spit as lubricant. The room was filled with obscene noises as Rocinante positively worshipped you, soft hums of pleasure vibrating against your cock as you covered your mouth and tried not to scream.

He paused a moment and glanced up at you. “This ok?”

Your vision was blurred, your head spinning. You could barely manage to nod your head in response.

“Tell me.”

Your eyes snapped open to see Rocinante smiling at you, the tip of your cock still touching his lips, a twinkle in those red-brown orbs.

“Well, Ensign? How much do you like having my lips wrapped around your cock?”

You moaned in response, unable to form words. This was maybe the hottest thing that had ever happened to you.

Rocinante sat back, the friction of his hands and mouth on your cock suddenly achingly gone. “Tell me, Ensign. That’s an order.”

You couldn’t help yourself any longer. You bucked your hips desperately forward toward him. “God, Roci, it’s so good, it’s so good, fuck, I’ve needed this so long, please don’t stop, please, please…” you were babbling now, anything to get his lips on your dick again.

Finally, Rocinante obliged. Leaning up to kiss you quickly, his mouth led a trail back down your chest and stomach, following your happy trail to your cock. Briefly, he bent deeply and swallowed you completely, sucking you into his mouth hard enough to make you cry out in a mixture of relief and pleasure.

“Roci…” you managed to gasp, tangling your fingers in that soft, wavy golden hair of his. Your lover slid his mouth from your member with a wet pop, catching your gaze for a moment before he trailed his tongue lower. Pushing back your legs slightly, he slid his wet muscle along the seam of your balls, down lower, lower, ghosting across your perineum, and finally flicked it across your hole. Nuzzling his face softly against your inner thigh for a moment, he dove in and began to devour you.

Roci’s tongue moved in eager, hungry circles over your star, lapping at it ravenously, occasionally pushing his tongue inside you just to hear the moans you made when he did it. Softly, continuing to lick and suck at you, he gripped your cock in his hand and gave it several slow, deliberate strokes.

Your balls tightened, and before you even knew what was happening you were cumming, thick spurts of white-hot cum shooting over your stomach, your legs, your commander’s face. He grinned and closed his mouth over the head of your cock, swallowing what he could as you bucked and whined against him.

When you collapsed after several excruciatingly wonderful moments, Roci pressed a soft kiss to your hip bone before climbing back up to gaze at you. Your cum still dripped from his exquisite cheekbone as he smiled, looking down at you with an expression of nothing less than total adoration.

“You ok, y/n?”

Catching your breath, you nodded. “That was incredible.”

“I’m not finished yet, at least not if you don’t want me to be.”

Weakly, you brush your hand against his. “What did you—“ pant, pant. “—have in mind?”

Rocinante took your chin in his hand, enveloping you in a deep kiss. You could taste your own cum on his tongue, enough to make your spent cock twitch again.

“I seem to recall you saying something about wanting me to fuck you?”

You gazed up at him. If the cheeky smile on his face didn’t tell you everything you needed to know, his positively throbbing cock resting on your thigh certainly did. You almost lazily brought your hand to Roci’s cheek, wiping your cum off him with your thumb. He popped the digit into his mouth without breaking eye contact, sucking every last drop of you from your finger with an eagerness rivaling your own.

“Please, Rocinante…”

Releasing your thumb from between his soft lips, your commander leaned down and kissed you deeply, lingeringly. When he broke away, he was smiling.

“Mind lubing me up a bit first?”

Breathlessly, you nodded, your heart skipping a beat as he pushed two of his own fingers slowly into your waiting mouth. You sucked as eagerly as he had moments before, sliding your tongue over the rough pads of his fingers, tasting the salt and leftover gunpowder on his skin.

“Perfect.” Roci smiled as he watched you, slowly removing his fingers, the dim light glinting off a thin stream of saliva that he twirled around his index. “God, everything about you is so beautiful…” he breathed. “I hoped so badly that you felt this way, y/n. That you wanted me the way I want you…”

You felt your face redden as he smiled at you, touching his forehead to yours as his wet fingers trailed lower and lower. Brushing his lips against the tip of your nose, he reached your hole and slowly began to massage around the perimeter, causing a groan to escape you. “Roci, I need you, fuck…”

“My y/n,” your lover smiled, nuzzling his nose lightly against your cheek. As he did so, he slid one big finger slowly inside you. Your back arched against him as he pushed deeper and deeper, then gently added a second. You felt yourself stretching around him, a soft wail escaping your lips as he scissored his fingers inside you, watching your reaction, precum leaking from his big cock onto your leg.

“How does that feel, sweetheart?”

“S-so…good…” you barely managed to stammer, too love-drunk to even notice the pet name, bucking your hips against his fingers, trying desperately to fuck yourself on them. God, you didn’t know what this meant or what this was but you didn’t care in the slightest, you needed him so bad…

Roci leaned in and kissed you gently as he slowly began to slide his fingers in and out of you, sending you moaning into his mouth as he finally pushed deep enough to hit that spot (Jesus Christ and how he hit it) far inside you, sending a frankly very un-Marinelike cry from your lips. Your lover twisted his fingers, massaging you, chuckling softly as you writhed, dug your nails into his wrist, begged him with your entire body. More, more, more, please god more…

And then slowly he was withdrawing them, leaving you painfully empty beneath him. “Roci… please don’t stop…”

“Shhh. Relax, Ensign. Gotta take these out before anything else can go in. Although… I might need you to lube up that ‘anything else’ for me a bit as well?”

You were up and on your knees in front of Rocinante in a second, practically drooling as you finally got a good look at your commander’s dick. It was massive, easily 8 inches, and thick—you couldn’t help but worry a bit about how the hell it was going to fit into you. It curved up slightly at the pink tip, oozing drops of precum.

Rocinante noticed your apprehension and blushed. “I know it’s kind of a lot, but we can go slow…”

You wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock, never taking your eyes off it. “I don’t care what speed we go at as long as I get to have you inside me.”

Rocinante brushed his fingers through your hair. “Let me know if you need to stop, ok?”

You nodded, and slowly licked a long stripe from the base of his dick to the tip. Roci positively shivered, his hand tightening in your hair. “Fuck, y/n…”

Gently, you continued to lick your Commander’s cock, covering it in your saliva, tasting the salt on his skin. When you flicked your tongue up over the pink tip, lapping up the drops of precum leaking from his slit, Rocinante’s hips bucked forward involuntarily, pushing himself into your mouth.

For a moment you sputtered, unprepared for the sudden invasion, and Roci quickly moved to pull back out. But you weren’t about to let that happen. Following his hips, you eagerly took more of him into your mouth, feeling your throat stretch as it filled with him. He was huge, so huge it almost hurt to have him so deep, and you had to fight to control your gag reflex as he gazed down at you, his face flushed.

“Holy fuck, you’re good at this, y/n…”

You smiled as best you could with his cock filling your throat and slowly began to suck him as he had you, coating his dick with your saliva, your own cock already rock hard again just from the feeling of him in your mouth. Bobbing your head, you couldn’t help but moan at the taste of him—a little salty, a little musky, a little sweet. Delicious didn’t even begin to describe it.

You were beginning to find your rhythm now, a slow pattern of in and out, deep but not too deep—but Roci suddenly pulled out, his cock bumping your cheek as you released it. You were almost disappointed—sucking him had been like nothing you’d ever experienced—but that flew out the window when you caught his eye.

“Come sit on my lap, y/n.”

Wordlessly you nodded your head. Your mind was swirling. Holy shit, you really were about to get fucked by your commanding officer. Holy shit, holy fuck…

Roci sat back on the soft fur of the rug and you climbed atop him in the position you were in before—achingly, breathtakingly close. His cock twitched as he pushed it against your soaking wet entrance.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

You could only reach up to kiss him in response.

Slowly, so slowly it made your head spin, Rocinante pushed the head of his cock into your tight hole, both of you groaning in pleasure as it began to slide into you. It was so big, holy fuck, Jesus it was big, and as it stretched you wider and wider you couldn’t help but wince.

Roci paused immediately. “You ok, y/n? We can stop if this is too much…”

“No! No, please don’t stop, please don’t stop, Roci,” you managed to gasp as you adjusted to him, your nails digging into his back as you pressed your face to his muscular chest, needing him like grass needed water, like seabirds needed wind.

Gently, he ran a comforting hand over your back and pushed deeper, helping you to sink down onto his cock until it was sheathed entirely inside you.

“Fuck, Rocinante..” you hissed into his chest as he filled you. Gently, almost experimentally, you raised your hips and slid up and down Roci’s dick once. The sensation was nearly enough to have you cumming again, and Roci himself let out a long, low moan as your muscles clenched tight around him.

“Let me do it, y/n… I promise it’ll feel so good…” your Commander gasped, gripping your hips. Slowly, he began to guide you up and down his cock, brushing that spot inside you again and again. You were vaguely aware of a trail of drool running from the corner of your mouth as Rocinante pumped a little faster into you, and you dug your nails into his back as he held you close.

The two of you were well and truly fucking now, your ass bouncing on his cock as you moaned against his chest, praises and needy begging slipping indiscriminately from your mouth as Roci filled you, hit that wildly sensitive spot over and over, harder and harder, as he made you his.

You managed to briefly look up at your commander, desperate to see that he was enjoying himself as much as you were. Your heart skipped a beat at the way he gazed down at you, his eyes almost wet as he held you, fucked himself in your tight hole.

He was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

“Y/n… holy fuck, y/n…”

Suddenly Rocinante’s thrusts were getting harder, rougher, his grip on your hips getting strong enough to bruise, his breath coming in little gasps.

“Y/n, i’m so close…”

Your own cock was twitching as well, begging for a second release, and you slid one hand from around his waist to jack yourself off hungrily.

“Cum in me, Commander Rocinante,” you begged, staring into his eyes as you stroked your cock, eager to paint his abs white while he filled you.

And with a strangled wail, fill you he did, his cock twitching as it pumped spurt after spurt of hot cum deeply into your hole. The sensation of his seed splashing against your inner walls was enough for you to follow, burying your face against Roci’s pectorals with a long cry as you shot another load onto him.

“Baby, baby, baby, baby…” Rocinante gasped, pulling you so close you almost suffocated against his body as he finished, his hips bucking against yours with a vengeance until finally he collapsed, muscles relaxing. A moment later and you collapsed with him, and Roci lay you both back against the soft brown fur of the rug beneath you.

A moment of silence passed, Roci playing with your hair as he gazed at you, one his arms still around you.

“My y/n,” he finally purred when he caught his breath. “My sweet y/n.”

“I can’t believe we finally did that,” you laugh, nuzzling yourself against him, happier than you could ever remember being.

“I can’t wait to see what the other Ensigns will think when I tell them I have a boyfriend.”

You sat up, an indignant blush creeping up your face. “Boyfriend? Who the fuck said anything about boyfriends?”

Rocinante didn’t flinch. “I mean, I think it’s pretty obvious where this is heading, don’t you?”

“No!” You stood up, wobbling a little on your post-orgasm legs. Jesus, this man is going to crack me open no matter what I do, isn’t he? “Fuck buddies, or friends with benefits maybe, but not boyfriends!”

Roci just laughed, which you found very annoying. “If you say so, y/n.”

“Commander! Y/n!!”

The voice of Ensign Parvati suddenly echoed from outside the window. “Are you guys alive? …We beat back the Torrez pirates! …Hello?”

Rocinante’s eyes widened. “Holy shit, I forgot about the rest of the squadron.” Frantically he looked around, grabbing his shirt and pants, crashing into everything that wasn’t bolted down as he quickly put on his clothes. “Christ, I am such a bad commander…”

It was your turn to laugh as you stood up, grabbing your own clothes. “You’re fine! Parvati said we beat them.”

He turned to smile at you, affixing his Marine cap to his head. “I can’t say I regret getting so distracted, to be honest.”

“Jesus, you’re corny.”

“You love it.”

You couldn’t help but grin back at him as the two of you finished getting dressed, ready to find your squadron and celebrate your victory.

And although he was not your boyfriend, although he did not know you—you would never let him truly know you— although he was simply your commanding officer who happened to turn lover, nothing more and nothing less—as you walked out the door, you pulled him down to you and very gently pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Maybe next time you and Bellemere smoked weed and watched old cartoons, maybe you’d see if he wanted to come along.

———————————————————————

God DAMN do I love writing me some slow burn 😍 This is my first time writing mlm so please let me know if there’s anything I can improve on!

Did I invent an entire island with a fur industry just so I could make my characters fuck on a fur rug? You’ll just have to decide for yourself 😏

I think there’s enough here to warrant a part 2, if anyone wants to hear it. I had a lot of fun playing with the idea of a character trying to grapple alone with their trauma and self esteem and meeting someone as incorrigibly healing as our darling Rocinante. If this gets notes, who knows what could happen…?

Also, shoutout to my real Torrez Diego, I sincerely hope you never read this fic but you’re cool and deserve to have a scary pirate named after you 💚

As always, thanks for reading!

[intheholler]

reading an article for a class (appalachian studies) and i kept being reminded of u

https://www.guernicamag.com/lost-in-a-misgendered-appalachia/

[positive] [with no foul intent] [its a good article]

i have read this article a few times since you sent it in and i still don't exactly know how to express my thoughts on it.

first: amen

second: yall literally have no idea how it makes me feel when you say somethin appalachian-related reminded yall of me. for real <3333

third: time to get long winded and sentimental, because i've never considered it this way, but it's so true. when i think of appalachia, i dont think about lifted trucks and gun shows.

i think about my badass grandma who was a fiery divorced, sex-positive, weed smoking, unapologetic feminist in her day and who didn't take no shit from no mountain men.

i think about my gospel loving, soft spoken mama who loudly loved jesus, a woman anyone would write off as an average "southern christian white lady" on the surface. how she didn't bat an eye when i nervously told her i was gay as a preteen. i think about how she hugged me and told me how much she loved me, how not everyone was gonna be nice about it or understand but that i was going to be safe and it was gonna be okay. how when i was a kid she stood up to that fire n brimstone southern baptist preacher and got us the fuck out of there.

i think about one of my best friends in high school, a visibly queer butch lesbian in our tiny bible beating western NC town. how fucking brave and cool she was for being one of maybe three "out" queers at school and so visibly queer at that. i think about how she got married to a pretty girl last year in that same town.

i think about two of my close friends who had to grow up so heartbreakingly fast, a pair of sisters who were at the time so young but selflessly spent their free time caring for their terminally ill mother by themselves up in their lonely holler without ever lodging a complaint

i think about my sister who dropped everything to raise me when she was only 23, breaking her back and making shit work because no one else was gonna make it work for us. i think about how one of my great aunts literally cleaned out her bedroom to furnish mine when she learned i was sleepin on a shitty couch in a cold basement.

i think about my other great aunt who apologizes for absolutely no part of who she was and holds fast to her beliefs no matter what. i think about her filling her house with the warm smell of soup beans and biscuits that were gonna feed the whole family when they come later.

when i think about appalachia, i think about the women in my life. appalachia is divine and it is absolutely divinely feminine. it's the heart of these hills and patriarchy taints it like it does everything fuckin else.

as an aside, i really loved this section here. it was kind of empowering:

Despite our region’s diversity and passionate socialist and pro-union roots, many have bought into the capitalist terms and definitions inflicted upon us. The religiosity of the place exacerbates this messaging, and the prevalence of evangelical Christianity in rural hollers means we often internalize toxic ideas about ourselves. Or perhaps we have simply tired of fighting to be seen. The pressure of religious and economic patriarchy, particularly in an exploited region like this one, means we live inside a perpetually loaded question. Nothing is more exhausting than trying to prove you exist. But the consequences of surrendering are stark: worsening wealth gaps, lost histories, continued erasures of diverse people and ecosystems. To live in Appalachia nowadays is to live with our failure to break down systemic racism, and with our complicity in the abuse of our bodies, labor, and land by unregulated corporations and himbo charlatans.

whew, okay. anyway, thanks for sending this in <33 it really made me think. yall should check it out. it's a long read but its worth every syllable!