#read and review

[breelynnxoxoxo]

READING AND RELAXING! 💋💋💋

#read a book #read and enjoy #read and review #sunny daze #grab a book #what a view #what a vibe #time to myself #me time #me myself and i

[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!

#Diglett writes #donquixote corazon #donquixote rocinante #donquixote rosinante #bellemere one piece #Rocinante #Rosinante #rosinante x reader #one piece marines #please read I promise the smut is worth it #read and review #feedback wanted #one piece #one piece fanfic

[vampbite083]

Simon's Angels Chapter Eleven

New chapter is now up! Getting close to the crossover point! Read and Review!

FF.net:

AO3:

#powerpuff girls #underdog #ppg fan #underdog fan #the underdog show #a03 #a03 fanfic #a03 fic #a03 writer #archive of our own #fanfic #fanfiction #writers on tumblr #writing #blossom #bubbles #buttercup #the powerpuff girls #my fic #fic update #fic #ppg blossom #ppg bubbles #ppg buttercup #simon bar sinister #cad lackey #mojo jojo #simon's angels #read and review

[chloeblythauthor]

Ella can be a little dramatic at times, but she really does have a disastrous relationship history. That's why, when she starts dating the most perfect guy in her dreams, she is more than okay with it. What could possibly go wrong? He's fictional. She made him up with her rom com obsessed mind.

Right?

👀

Ella's about to find out that her dreams weren't quite as private as she thought... 😳

---

Start reading Duplicity (The Dangers of Dreaming: Book 1) now to find out who (or what) exactly Ella has got herself mixed up with.

---

NB: This is a COMPLETE trilogy. All books available on Kindle, Kindle Unlimited & paperback via Amazon

🇬🇧 UK link: https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/aw/d/B09QFQPZMD

🇺🇸 US link: https://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/B09QFQPZMD

Everyone else, just search! 😊

#fantasy romance #fantasy adventure #romcom #romantasy #amreading #readers of tumblr #current read #bookishlife #singlelife #dating #bookaholic #on wednesdays we post pink #pretty books #indie books #read and review #i love books

[twigscloset]

September

On the days when my body is heavy and tears drop silently. When the fear of a child who’s looking for her mother makes me paralyzed inside and out. The need to tear at my skin and hair in an attempt to claw out my skull. To bring me the sense of fading pain my mind plays a short film featuring the warmth of a lustful appetite, the butterflies of two in love and the loud laughs of friends gathered.

#female writers #writerscommunity #read and review #writers on tumblr #aspiring writer #write every day #dreamer #artists on tumblr #emo #poetry #flash writing #depression #living with bpd

[deadsquidstudios]

Third chapter is out.

#my fanfiction #athf #aqua teen hunger force #fanfiction #ao3 #read and review #dr synapse #athf oc

[rheanacherieofficial]

Reading, review, and wine Tuesdays

#female writers #writers on tumblr #writerscorner #writerslife #reading #read more #writergram #writing group #read and learn #read and review #tuesday

[owlsbride]

Sakura is forced to live with her mother for a while when she discovered she had a very hot and strange neighbor. But far from being afraid she decided she wants more from him and a high desire of knowing him better. Will she be able to met him? In which Kakashi and Sakura don’t have age gap. Alternative Universe, Modern day

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter XI: Because The Night. Things are getting hot in here! Sakura feells brave and powerful, Kakashi would be able to resist her? When the night comes it’s time to feast. 

#kakashi fanfiction #kakashi x sakura #kakashi smut #kakasaku fanfiction #kakasaku #sakura centric #Sakura Haruno #haruno sakura #Kakashi Hatake #fanfiction #Read and Review #follow 👑 share ❤️ enjoy 🍑 #Read on AO3 #ao3 link #naruto #naruto verse #naruto fanfiction #reblog #reblogg #sakura smut #supportwriters

[erikhasmysoul]

Read and review! <3 

#nothing but a lie #my fic #poto fanfiction #phanfiction #poto #phantom of the opera #e/c #read and review

[kkecreads]

One of Our Own by Lucinda Berry (Audiobook)

Simon & Schuster Audible Release: March 12, 2024 Listening Length: 3 hours 54 minutes Narrators: A.J. Cook, Tessa Albertson Genre: Domestic Thriller KKECReads Overall Rating: 5/5 KKECReads Rating for Performance: 5/5 KKECReads Rating for Story: 5/5 I purchased a copy of this audiobook on Audible, and I leave my review voluntarily. This was a beautiful experience. This is the first…

View On WordPress

#AJ cook #amazon #approved #audio experience #blog #blogger #blogging #book #book blog #book blogger #Book review #Books #katy #Katy approved #katyapproved #kkec #kkecreads #Lucinda Berry #New Release #one of our own #Read #read and review #reading #reads #Review #reviewed #reviewer #Simon &amp; Schuster

[azianxpersuasionreads]

New Read and Review Blog

Hi there! I read and review books. I like a little of everything but I love rom coms especially. I'm also trying to venture back into the world of sci-fi, mystery, horror, and some fantasy.

#netgalley #books #read and review

[nedlittle]

it drives me bonkers the way people don't know how to read classic books in context anymore. i just read a review of the picture of dorian gray that said "it pains me that the homosexual subtext is just that, a subtext, rather than a fully explored part of the narrative." and now i fully want to put my head through a table. first of all, we are so lucky in the 21st century to have an entire category of books that are able to loudly and lovingly declare their queerness that we've become blind to the idea that queerness can exist in a different language than our contemporary mode of communication. second it IS a fully explored part of the narrative! dorian gray IS a textually queer story, even removed from the context of its writing. it's the story of toxic queer relationships and attraction and dangerous scandals and the intertwining of late 19th century "uranianism" and misogyny. second of all, i'm sorry that oscar wilde didn't include 15k words of graphic gay sex with ao3-style tags in his 1890 novel that was literally used to convict him of indecent behaviour. get well soon, i guess...

#the picture of dorian gray #lit #this is a pointless text post #guess what i read for the first time in the year of our lord 2023 #and yes this is a real review on storygraph that i took a screenshot of. you people are so stupid god bless #girl he literally censored it himself did your edition have 0 introduction or background at all #greatest (s)hits #book discourse

[clonerightsagenda]

Spotted the word "blorbo" in The New York Times book review. Listen NYT romance reviewer, I really do not think your paper's audience is going to recognize that one

#maybe I'm wrong but I always figure it's the 80 year old ladies reading the nyt book review romance column

[twigscloset]

It’s both sad and frustrating how our sisterhood is so easily brought down, we’re not even sisters anymore we see each other as rivals, we lie and steal from one another, we betray each other and once there’s an opportunity for love we’d rather see each other in the dirt than lose mr. Right

#female writers #read and review #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #poetry #prose #poems on tumblr #aspiring writer #this is what makes us girls #feminism

[theheelerbooklifereads]

💭𝘘𝘖𝘛𝘋: What book or series do you wish you could gift your younger self?

🔮𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭:🔮

𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝐷𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑦

✨𝐴𝑢𝑔𝑢𝑠𝑡 1𝑠𝑡-𝐴𝑢𝑔𝑢𝑠𝑡 31𝑠𝑡

✨𝐿𝑜𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝐷𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑑: 𝑡ℎ𝑒ℎ𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑟𝑏𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒'𝑠 𝑁𝑜 𝑆ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝐶𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑙 𝐶𝑙𝑢𝑏

✨𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐷𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑤𝑒𝑙𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑗𝑜𝑖𝑛 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑖𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑛 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑏𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑖𝑠ℎ.

🔮𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝟻 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝟻 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚜/𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖:

🐲𝙵𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚢: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚘/𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚗 𝙾𝚗𝚎, 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙼𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚛, ���𝚊𝚐𝚝𝚊𝚐 𝙱𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚏𝚒𝚝𝚜/𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚜, 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚆𝚊𝚛/𝙿𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚎, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚂𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎/𝙼𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚂𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕

❤️ 𝚁𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎: 𝙾𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝙰𝚝𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝, 𝙵𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎/𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎, 𝚆𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚂𝚒𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜, 𝙰𝚗𝚝𝚒-𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚘, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚂𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚂𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜 𝙳𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎

🔪 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚛/𝙼𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚢: 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚕 𝙰𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚢, 𝙱𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚕/𝚁𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚎, 𝙸𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗/𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚃𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝙿𝚘𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚝/𝙹𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝/𝙼𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚂𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚝 𝙿𝚊𝚜𝚝/𝙷𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚁𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜

🗝️ 𝙷𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝙵𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝙰𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝙷𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝙵𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎(𝚜), 𝙿𝚘𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕/𝚂𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚄𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚊𝚕, 𝙳𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜/𝙵𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚍

👨‍👩‍👧‍👦 𝙻𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚛𝚢/𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝙵𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗: 𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝙰𝚐𝚎, 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝙵𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢/𝚄𝚗𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙, 𝙳𝚢𝚜𝚏𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝙵𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢/𝙵𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚂𝚊𝚐𝚊, 𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚞𝚖𝚊/𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙿𝚊𝚜𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚕-𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚕𝚍 𝙸𝚜𝚜𝚞𝚎𝚜.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 "/" 𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎.

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You are able to pick a card and work on it, then once finished you may restart your card or move onto another path. There are bunch of extra points you can earn. You are able to submit any books read outside of the readathon prompts as a bonus read.

I hope I see you guys there.

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