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mssalo · 1 day

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safety - Part: IV

Summary: After years of isolation, Joel Miller's life revolves around control and keeping danger at bay, his past as a soldier leaving him constantly on edge. But when a sweet, soft-spoken young woman starts working at the supply store, her innocence stirs something inside him. Despite his efforts to remain detached, Joel becomes obsessed with keeping her safe from the dangers he’s certain are lurking everywhere.

As his protective instincts morph into darker desires, the lines between safeguarding her and possessing her begin to blur.

Warnings will vary by chapter depending on the content.

Warnings: Dark!Joel, 18+ MDNI, Joel has major Trauma/PTSD, Mentions of war and combat-related trauma, Emotional manipulation, Power dynamics, Noncon/dubcon elements, Unstable mental state, Reader feeling conflicted, Explicit sexual content, graphic descriptions of sex, oral (both giving and receiving), rough sex, praise kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex, Dom/sub dynamics, Joel’s possessiveness, Breeding kink, refusal to pull out, Overstimulation. Joel shall get therapy soon.

11k, Smut.

Enjoy!

Part I Part II Part III

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Joel’s truck rumbled to a stop in front of his house, the engine cutting out abruptly. His grip on the steering wheel remained tight, knuckles white with tension.

His eyes scanned the perimeter, darting from the treeline to the empty yard, searching for any sign of danger.

They were still out there.

They had to be. He’d seen them—felt them lurking, waiting.

“They’re here for you,” he muttered under his breath, his voice shaky.

His mind raced, replaying every shadow, every phantom figure he’d seen darting between the trees back at camp. The thought made his chest tighten, his heartbeat thundering in his ears. He couldn’t let them take you.

Not now. Not ever.

“Joel,” your soft voice broke through the fog, but it didn’t ground him like it normally would.

He turned to you, eyes wide and wild, still scanning the darkness around them. He was sure they were close.

Too close.

“We need to get inside,” he rasped, gripping your arm a little too tightly. “They’re still out there.”

Without waiting for your reply, he stepped out of the truck and moved to your side, yanking the door open and pulling you out with a desperate grip.

His hand never left your arm as he ushered you up the steps and into the house, his eyes still flicking over his shoulder, double-checking that you're aren't being followed.

Once inside, he slammed the door shut and bolted it, his chest heaving as he stood there, back pressed against the door like it was the only thing holding him upright.

“Joel…” you began, your voice gentle, as if speaking too loudly might set him off. “There’s no one out there.”

He didn’t respond, his eyes still wide and searching, scanning the dark corners of the room, still expecting the worst.

His breath came out in heavy, uneven bursts, his body still coiled tight with fear.

“I’m okay,” you said again, this time placing your hand gently on his chest, trying to pull him back to you.

“You saved me, Joel. You got me out. I’m safe now.”

But he couldn’t hear you. His mind was still trapped in the nightmare, the vivid images of shadows lurking, of something coming for you.

It was like he was back in the thick of it—in the chaos, where he couldn’t control anything.

“They’ll come back,” he muttered, his voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. “They always come back.”

You shook your head, moving closer to him, your hand still pressed against his chest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breath.

“No one’s coming for me, Joel. It’s just us. We’re safe now.”

He turned to you, finally meeting your eyes, but his face was still tight with panic. “You don’t know that,” he said, his voice cracking. “You don’t understand… what’s out there.”

His grip on your arm tightened again, his fear morphing into something darker, something possessive.

He pulled you closer, his hand slipping to the small of your back, holding you against him as if the proximity alone could keep you safe.

“I’m not letting them take you,” he muttered, his breath hot against your ear.

Your heart ached at the desperation in his voice, at the raw terror he was fighting to keep at bay. He wasn’t just afraid for you—he was afraid of failing you, of losing you to something he couldn’t stop.

His trauma had wrapped itself around him, choking him, blinding him to the fact that you were alone. That there was no danger but the one inside his mind.

“I’m okay,” you repeated softly, your arms slowly wrapping around him in return. “You did it, Joel. You saved me. We’re safe.”

He was trembling now, his body pressed against yours in a way that felt more desperate than protective. He buried his face in your neck, his breath ragged, like he was trying to hold back a flood of emotion.

He tightened his hold on you, pulling you closer, as if he needed to feel every inch of your body against his to believe that you were still there, that you were real. “I wasn’t fast enough… last time.”

You stroked the back of his neck gently, your own heart pounding, trying to steady him, to bring him back to you. “You were fast enough this time. You got me out. You saved me.”

Joel’s breathing was uneven as he held you close, his face buried against the crook of your neck.

The scent of you—soft and sweet—seeped into his senses, grounding him in a way that nothing else had in years.

His chest rose and fell with each shaky breath, but the panic slowly started to ebb, replaced by something darker, something far more possessive. He inhaled deeply, letting your scent fill his lungs, chasing away the chaos in his mind.

You murmured softly, your voice a gentle lull in the storm. “You got me out. You saved me.”

Your words washed over him like a balm, but they weren’t enough. Not this time. He needed more than words. He needed to feel you—to hold onto something real, something tangible that would keep him from slipping back into the dark.

His lips brushed against your neck, a desperate, aching need driving him. "I need to feel something real."

You stiffened slightly in his arms, your breath catching as his mouth moved along your skin, soft at first but growing more insistent. Your heart pounded, torn between fear and something you couldn't quite place.

His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against him as his lips continued to travel down your neck, a low growl rumbling deep in his chest.

He pressed harder, kissing your neck with a hunger that bordered on desperation. His teeth grazed your skin, and a shiver ran through you, a strange mix of fear and guilt knotting in your stomach.

"Joel…" you whispered, your voice trembling. You weren’t sure what to say, weren’t sure how to stop him without setting him off again.

But he didn’t stop.

His hands roamed over your back, gripping you tighter, as if he was terrified you would slip away.

"I need this," he muttered, more to himself than to you. "I need you."

Your pulse quickened, the tension between you thick and suffocating.

You should pull away, you knew that.

Something about this didn’t feel right. But you didn’t move. You stayed there, your breath shaky as his lips continued to trace over your neck, his hands pressing you closer still.

You felt bad for wanting to pull away. He was hurting, and you could feel it in the way he clung to you. He needed something from you—something real to hold onto. But the weight of his desire was overwhelming, pressing down on you, making your heart race with something that wasn’t entirely fear… but wasn’t entirely comfort, either.

“Joel, I—” you started, your voice barely above a whisper, but he silenced you with a soft growl, his lips brushing against your ear.

"Don't," he murmured, his voice dark, heavy with emotion. "Don't say anything. Just… let me feel you."

His breath was hot against your skin, and you couldn’t stop the way your body reacted, a shiver running down your spine. Part of you was scared—scared of how far this might go, scared of how much control he was losing. But part of you felt something else.

Something that made you stay rooted to the spot, letting him take what he needed, even though you weren’t sure you should.

And Joel… Joel wasn’t letting go. He needed you more than ever now, and that desperate, consuming need was spiraling out of control.

A shiver ran through you, and you couldn’t help the way your body tensed under his hold. You had liked him before—all those glances, those quiet moments between you in the store. But this?

This was different. This wasn’t the Joel you’d seen before. He was someone else now, lost in whatever darkness had taken over.

"Joel," you whispered, trying to ground him, trying to bring him back. "… I’m okay."

But as the words left your mouth, you knew he wasn’t fully hearing you. Maybe this was what he needed to calm down, to feel like he was back in control.

Joel held you tight, his mind a tangled mess of emotions. You were speaking softly, trying to soothe him, telling him that you were okay, that he’d saved you. But the words barely made it through the fog in his head. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had failed you—that somehow, the danger wasn’t over yet.

“You don’t get it,” he muttered against your skin, his voice raw and broken. “You don’t understand how close I came to losing you. How close they were.”

You were the only thing that kept the demons at bay, and he needed you to stay. Needed you to hold onto him, to tell him he wasn’t losing his grip.

“Joel,” you whispered again, your voice trembling. “I’m okay. You don’t have to—”

But his grip only tightened, his breath coming out in heavy, ragged bursts. “Just let me touch you,” he growled, his voice thick with desire.

He wasn’t going to stop.

And maybe… maybe you didn’t want him to.

His hands roamed your back, sliding up under your shirt, his touch possessive, desperate. You could feel his heart racing against your chest, his breath hot and uneven as he pressed his forehead against your shoulder.

“You’re mine to protect,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, his lips ghosting over your skin. “Mine to keep safe.”

Your mind raced, torn between the fear of his intensity and the way your body responded to his touch.

You knew he wasn’t himself, that the trauma was pulling him under, but the heat of his body, the roughness of his hands, made it hard to think.

“I couldn’t save them,” he whispered, his voice cracking as his hands roamed over your body. “But I’ll save you. I swear it.”

He needed this—needed you—like you were the only thing tethering him to reality.

His grip was firm, almost desperate, as though he was afraid that if he let you go, you would vanish into the dark corners of his mind, swallowed by the dangers he imagined lurking just out of sight.

Then you tilted your chin up, your lips brushing lightly against his, and that soft contact undid him.

The second he kissed you, he felt the world steady beneath his feet. Your lips were soft, pliant, and the warmth of your mouth was a balm to the cold storm that raged inside him.

He kissed you deeply, slowly, pouring everything into the kiss—the fear, the hunger, the overwhelming need to protect you, to claim you, to keep you close. His hands slid up, cradling your face gently as though you might slip away if he didn’t hold you just right.

The softness of your skin under his fingertips made him feel more human, more in control. His thumb brushed over the curve of your jaw, savoring how delicate you felt against his roughness.

You tasted like something familiar, something he didn’t realize he’d craved until now, and each press of your lips seemed to bring him closer to you, tethering him to something real, something that wasn’t his own spiraling thoughts.

He kissed you again, deeper, more insistent, needing to feel your softness against him, needing to lose himself in the comfort you provided. His mind raced, caught between the desire to protect and the hunger to possess, but as your lips moved with his, it all blurred together.

Protect. Keep. Claim. It didn’t matter.

You were soft, pliant, and here. You were real. And that, more than anything, made him feel like he could breathe again.

His breath grew ragged as his hands continued their journey over your body, each soft curve beneath his palms pulling him deeper into his need for you. You were everything he craved.

His lips pressed harder against yours, his mind clouded by the hunger building inside him.

He groaned softly as your body shifted against him, your hips brushing his, and he felt his cock throb, hard and insistent, pressed against you. The sensation sent a rush of heat through him, overwhelming the last of his restraint.

His grip on you tightened slightly, pulling you even closer as though he couldn’t bear the thought of any distance between you.

His hand slipped to the small of your back, pressing you against his hard cock growing between you.

His hands trembled slightly as he began to undo the buttons of your shirt, his breath uneven as his lips hovered close to yours. Joel’s fingers were rough against the soft fabric, but every movement was slow, deliberate.

Each button he undid revealed more of your skin, more of the warmth that anchored him. His hands moved to your shoulders, slipping the fabric of your shirt down your arms, exposing more of you to him.

His eyes darkened with hunger, but also with a fear that hadn’t quite faded.

“I need to see you,” he murmured, his voice thick, hoarse.

His lips found your collarbone, kissing the bare skin as his hands moved to the waistband of your jeans.

You exhaled softly, your hand moving to his chest as if to steady him, trying to reach him through the haze of his obsession.

His fingers fumbled with the button of your jeans, his need overwhelming his coordination, but you didn’t stop him.

He couldn’t stop himself.

His cock throbbed as he worked the fabric down your hips, revealing more of your softness, more of the body he needed to feel, to protect, to claim.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he whispered, his voice almost a growl as he pulled you closer, pressing your bare skin against him.

Joel’s lips found yours again, demanding, needy, while his hands roamed your body. His desire remained, cock throbbing with each touch, a reminder of how much he needed you—how much he needed to make sure you were his.

As Joel stepped back just enough to take you in, his breath caught in his throat.

You stood before him in nothing but your underwear, and it was like you’d stepped out of one of his dreams, a vision so perfect it almost didn’t seem real.

Your body—every curve, every soft line—drew his eyes with an almost painful intensity. Your breasts, full and round, strained against the lace of your bra, and he couldn’t stop himself from staring, his mouth dry at the sight.

The way your waist dipped beneath the fabric only accentuated the fullness of your hips, your ass curved and firm, begging to be touched. You were the embodiment of everything he’d ever desired, every fantasy he’d ever had, standing there, soft and vulnerable, but so utterly tempting it made his chest tighten with need.

You were both angelic and sensual, an impossible combination of sweet and sinful. Everything about you pulled at him—your softness, your curves, the way you seemed to fit so perfectly against him.

And as he looked at you, standing there in your delicate underwear, all he could think was how much he wanted you, needed you.

His pulse pounded in his ears, drowning out any remaining slivers of rational thought. You were right there—so soft, so perfect, standing before him like you were made just for him.

And for the first time in so long, he felt the rush of control, the heady sense of finally being able to hold something real, something that wouldn’t slip away or explode in chaos like everything else in his life.

In the war, everything had been chaos, spiraling out of control no matter how much he fought it.

The blood, the noise, the way every second could change in an instant.But this moment, with you in front of him, was something he could hold onto, something he could control.

Without a word, his hands moved to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly. Your soft gasp against his neck sent a shockwave through his body as he held you up, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.

The feel of you, warm and pliant against him, made the tension in his chest ease just enough to remind him how much he craved this—how much he needed this.

With you in his arms, he carried you toward the bedroom, his steps steady but filled with urgency.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, your soft breaths hot against his ear, and every sound you made, every movement, only drove him closer to the edge.

The door to the bedroom came too slowly, his body buzzing with a need so intense he could barely think.

No one else. No chaos, no uncertainty—just you.

With a gentle but insistent movement, he laid you down on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours.

You looked up at him, soft and breathless, and he felt the rush of power, of control, surge through him. Joel’s breath caught as he hovered over you, his hands roaming your body with reverence, as if he couldn’t believe you were really there beneath him, all softness and warmth.

He kissed your shoulder first, slow and deliberate, letting his lips linger on your skin before trailing down to the curve of your collarbone. The taste of you, the way your body reacted to each kiss, was intoxicating.

“So damn pretty,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. His breath was hot against your skin, and you felt every word like a promise.

He pressed his lips to your neck, feeling your pulse quicken beneath his mouth, the heat rising between you. “You have no idea, do you? What you do to me…”

He kissed you again, lower this time, letting his mouth explore the hollow of your throat, his hands tracing the curves of your hips. You let out a soft gasp, your fingers clutching the sheets as you arched slightly under his touch.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he murmured, his voice a little more hoarse. “I wanna hear you. Let me hear every damn sound you make.”

Your reaction only made him crave more, made him want to pull you further into this, to hear every gasp, every moan.

“Beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his lips trailing lower, skimming the swell of your breasts, his hands sliding up your sides, feeling every inch of you. “Every part of you, just… perfect.”

You blushed deeply, the color rising in your cheeks, and Joel felt his chest tighten at the sight. That blush—it reminded him of the first time he saw you, when you’d looked at him with those big eyes, your cheeks flushing the same way. You’d been nervous then, shy and unsure. But now? Now, you were his, and that blush only made him want you more.

He loved how the pink in your cheeks spread down your neck, how you couldn’t hide your reactions from him. You turned your head slightly, trying to hide the embarrassment that came with his compliments, but he wasn’t having it.

“Don’t hide from me,” he growled softly, his fingers tipping your chin back toward him, forcing you to look at him. “I wanna see every damn reaction.”

He kissed your lips gently, then moved back to your skin, his breath heavy as he pressed his mouth to your throat. “So beautiful. You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this. To have you. All of you.”

His mouth continued its slow exploration, pressing kisses to your hips, your thighs, every part of you that he could reach. Your body responded to every touch, every kiss, your breath coming quicker, your fingers tightening in the sheets as you bit your lip.

“I can feel how much you want this,” he whispered, his voice dark and full of intent. “Don’t hold back. I want it all, I need it all.”

You let out a soft whimper, your eyes fluttering closed, and he couldn’t help but grin at your reaction.

“That’s it, baby… let go. Let me take care of you.”

His hand slid back up to your cheek, his thumb brushing over your flushed skin, that familiar blush that he loved so much.

Your breath hitched as Joel’s lips continued their slow journey down your body, each kiss more deliberate than the last. Your mind was spinning, and you knew you had to say something, even though your body responded instinctively to every touch, every kiss.

“Joel… maybe we should stop,” you murmured, your voice soft and uncertain, though your hands stayed tangled in his hair.

You bit your lip, trying to find the words as his kisses trailed lower, along your stomach, his breath warm against your skin.

“You’ve just… you’ve been stuck in an episode.”

Joel paused for a moment, his lips resting against your skin just above the waistband of your panties. His hands gripped your thighs gently, but firmly, holding you in place. His gaze flicked up to meet yours, dark with desire, and the way he looked at you sent a wave of heat rushing through you.

“I ain’t stuck,” he said softly, his voice husky and full of need. “This ain’t an episode. I know exactly what I’m doin’.”

His lips pressed another kiss, lower now, right at the edge of your underwear, his fingers tracing the fabric, teasing you. “And I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout this for too long to stop now.”

You swallowed hard, your body betraying you as your hips instinctively shifted toward him, despite the doubt swirling in your mind. “Joel…”

But he was already moving, his lips brushing softly over your clothed pussy, the sensation both maddening and electrifying.

“I can see how much you want this too,” he murmured, his voice low and raspy as he pressed another kiss. “Don’t try to hide it.”

His breath was hot against you, and you could feel the gentle pressure as he kissed you through the thin fabric of your panties, a slow, deliberate motion that made you gasp.

“Shhh,” he soothed, his voice a low, possessive rumble as he pressed his mouth to you again, lingering a little longer this time. “You don’t need to say anything. Just let me make you feel good.”

“I need this… I need you.” His tongue flicked out, barely a hint, tracing the edge of you through the lace, sending a jolt of pleasure through you that made you arch slightly.

You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your lips, your hands tightening in the sheets now as you tried to fight the pull of his touch. “That’s it, let me hear you.”

“Joel… maybe—” you started again, but your words trailed off as he kissed you again, more firmly this time, his tongue pressing slowly against the damp fabric, teasing you, tasting you.

His grip on your thighs tightened, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

“I ain’t stoppin’,” he whispered against you, his voice dark with need. “Not when you taste this good. Not when I’ve been waitin’ this long.”

His tongue dragged over you again, slow and purposeful, a deep groan rumbling from his chest as he tasted you.

“Been wantin’ this for so long… you have no idea.”

Every kiss, every lick made you forget the hesitation, made you want more. The way his mouth moved against you, the way he talked, his words low and rough with hunger, made your mind clouded with need.

“You’re all I need,” he murmured, pressing another kiss, his tongue flicking out again as he licked you through the panties, savoring the taste of you. “Let me take care of you. Just you and me, baby.”

Her breath came in shallow, uneven gasps as Joel continued his slow, deliberate attention on your body. Every kiss, every flick of his tongue sent waves of pleasure rolling through you, making you tremble beneath his touch.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the moans that kept slipping out, but the way he worked his mouth against your panties, teasing you relentlessly, made it impossible to stay quiet.

“Joel…” you moaned softly, your fingers tightening in the sheets, your body arching toward him as if you couldn’t stop yourself. “Oh god…”

Your hips bucked slightly as he applied more pressure, his mouth hot and persistent, licking you slowly through the lace, savoring every reaction you gave him.

The fabric was soaked now, your body betraying your desire, and you whimpered, the sound low and breathy, unable to stop the way you responded to him.

Then, suddenly, Joel pulled back just slightly, his lips hovering right over your heat.

For a moment, you thought he was going to stop, your body left aching for more, but instead, you felt him press his face against you, inhaling deeply, groaning as he took in your scent.

The sound he made was primal, raw, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Fuck,” he growled against you, his voice thick with need and satisfaction. “Just like I remember.”

Your mind was still clouded by the intense pleasure, your breath coming in short bursts when his words broke through.

You blinked, trying to focus through the haze, and managed a weak, breathless, “Huh?”

Joel’s lips curled into a dark grin as he glanced up at you, his eyes filled with hunger and intent.

You opened your mouth to say something, but all that came out was a soft moan as he pressed his face into you again, groaning against you as if he couldn’t get enough.

Your body responded instinctively, your legs trembling, your hips pushing up toward him as your mind spun with a mix of pleasure and confusion.

“Joel…” you whimpered again, your voice barely a whisper, your body betraying you as it gave in completely to the sensations he was pulling from you.

Joel’s fingers moved with a slow, deliberate pace as he hooked them into the sides of your panties, his eyes never leaving your face.

Your breath caught, your body trembling beneath him, anticipation and uncertainty warring in your gaze.

But you didn’t stop him. You couldn’t.

Joel's breath grew heavier as his fingers slowly slid beneath the waistband of your panties, his touch deliberate, savoring every moment. You couldn’t stop the soft moan that escaped your lips as he tugged them down, his eyes dark and hungry as he peeled the fabric away from your skin, inch by inch.

His lips followed the motion, kissing your thighs as he uncovered you, groaning deep in his throat when the lace finally slipped past your knees.

He paused for a moment, taking you in, his eyes raking over you - seeing you for the first time.

His breath was shaky, his fingers gripping your thighs tightly, holding you open for him. A deep, guttural sound escaped him, full of desire and need.

"Goddamn," he growled, his voice thick with hunger. "Look at you. So fuckin' beautiful. So perfect."

His eyes were glued to you, dark and primal, like he couldn’t get enough.

He leaned down, his breath warm against you as he inhaled deeply, groaning with satisfaction, the sound vibrating through his chest.

“Fuckin’ heaven,” he muttered, the sound low and filled with filthy need. “You’re mine now, and I’m never lettin’ go.”

Then he dove in, his mouth pressing firmly against you, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes that made you gasp out loud, your hips bucking toward him instinctively.

He groaned against you, the sound muffled by the way his tongue worked, feasting on you like a man starved, like he’d been waiting for this moment forever.

He didn’t hold back, his grip on you tightening as he buried his face deeper, his tongue circling and tasting you with relentless hunger.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he groaned between breaths, his voice vibrating through your core. “Been waitin’ for this, darlin’, waitin’ to taste every inch of you.”

Your moans filled the room as his tongue worked you over, his lips sucking and licking with desperate need. You couldn’t hold back anymore, your hands gripping his hair as you arched against him, lost in the sensation of his mouth on you.

He didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down, devouring you with an intensity that made your toes curl, every filthy word he muttered against you sending you spiraling higher.

"You're mine," he rasped, his voice barely audible between licks, but the possessive tone was clear. "Only mine."

“Please…,” you whimpered, barely able to form the words between your gasps, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

Joel’s hunger for you only seemed to grow the longer he tasted you, his need for you overwhelming any shred of restraint he had left.

Joel growled low in his throat as he pulled back for a moment, his breath ragged. He took a long look at you, lips glistening with your wetness, his eyes filled with a raw hunger that bordered on madness.

He couldn’t tear himself away from the sight of you, couldn’t stop himself from wanting more. You were too perfect, too soft, too sweet for him to ever get enough.

“Goddamn,” he murmured, his drawl thicker now, rough with need. His fingers slid between your soft pussy lips, spreading you open even wider. “Look at this pretty pussy… so fuckin’ perfect. Can’t believe you’re mine.”

“So pretty, darlin’. Tastes so fuckin’ sweet.”

He lowered his head again, his mouth hovering just above you before he flicked his tongue out, tasting you slowly.

His groan was deep, guttural, vibrating through you as he buried his face between your legs once more.

“You taste so damn good,” he muttered between licks, his breath hot against your slick skin. “Sweetest thing I ever had.”

His lips found your clit, and he teased it with his tongue, swirling slow and deliberate, savoring your reactions. Then, without warning, he gently bit down, just enough to make you jolt.

You gasped loudly, your back arching, but the sharp sensation sent a wave of pleasure crashing through you, mixing with the heat already burning between your legs.

“Fuck, you like that, don’t ya?” he growled, his voice rougher now, his breath heavy as he pulled your hips closer, holding you tightly against his mouth. “This pussy is mine… ain’t nobody ever gonna have you like this. I’ll make sure of it.”

He groaned again, licking you harder now, his tongue working over you with a maddening precision.

Every taste of you drove him wilder, his obsession growing as he lost himself completely in you. He licked you slowly, almost reverently, savoring every second before spitting on you again, watching it glisten on your wet folds.

“So wet, so ready. This pussy’s made for me. Tastes so good, darlin’, I can’t fuckin’ stop.” He leaned in again, his tongue dragging over you in long, slow strokes before diving deeper, licking you with a desperate hunger.

His mouth was relentless, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as he feasted on you like a man starved. Joel groaned against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body, and your moans filled the room as you writhed beneath him.

“You taste like heaven,” he muttered between kisses, dripping with lust. He flicked his tongue over your clit again, biting it gently, making you gasp and tremble under his touch. “Ain’t never tasted anything this good.”

His eyes were dark, fixed on the place where his mouth had been, like he couldn’t get enough. He spread your legs wider, admiring you, completely obsessed with every inch of your body laid out before him.

“Look at this pretty cunt,” he growled, his voice thick with that southern twang, filled with raw desire. “Goddamn, darlin’, you’re perfect down here. Prettiest little pussy I ever laid eyes on.”

He spat on your clit with a roughness that made you gasp, the slick wetness mixing with what was already there. His fingers followed, spreading the spit over your folds, rubbing it with slow, deliberate strokes.

Every movement was slow and teasing, designed to drive you insane, and he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his fingers sliding over you, feeling how wet you were. “This pretty little clit, all swollen for me… You like it when I bite it, don’t ya? When I suck on this sweet clit?”

He groaned, the sound vibrating against you as his lips found your clit again.

This time, he sucked on it hard, his teeth grazing it just enough to send jolts of pleasure and pain through you. “Mm, yeah,” he grunted against you, his voice rough with lust. “This cunt tastes so goddamn good, baby“

He flicked his tongue over your clit, then bit down gently, sending another wave of pleasure coursing through you.

Your hips bucked up toward his mouth, your body responding to the way his tongue moved against you with relentless precision.

“That’s right, baby,” he drawled, his accent dripping through every word. “Let me taste all of ya. I wanna hear those pretty little moans while I eat this sweet cunt.”

He spat on you again, his hand rubbing it into your folds, his fingers working you while his mouth stayed focused on your clit.

He licked you from the bottom up, then focused on your clit again, sucking it hard, biting just enough to make you moan louder, your body trembling under his touch.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he muttered, his breath hot against you as he looked up briefly, his eyes glazed with hunger. “Ain’t nothin’ in this world better than this pretty cunt.”

“Joel,” you whimpered, your voice shaking. “I’m close… I’m so close.”

At your words, he growled against you, the vibrations sending a new wave of pleasure through you. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his lips wet and glistening as he flashed you a wicked grin.

“Fuck yeah,” he rasped, “Cum on my tongue, baby. I wanna taste all of it.”

Without hesitation, he latched onto your clit, sucking hard, his mouth working with a brutal rhythm.

His tongue flicked over your sensitive flesh again and again, while his nose pressed against you, creating a delicious pressure that had your body trembling beneath him.

He could feel you tensing, your thighs shaking as your moans grew louder, more desperate.

“Come on, baby,” he growled, his voice muffled as he sucked harder, his lips locked around your clit. “Give it to me. Let me taste you.”

You cried out, your body arching off the bed as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

Your entire body shuddered, your hips grinding against his mouth as the wave of your orgasm crashed over you.

Joel didn’t let up for a second—his mouth stayed on you, sucking and licking, his tongue flicking over your clit even as you writhed beneath him.

“Fuck, yeah,” he groaned against you, his voice dark and raw with hunger. “That’s it, darlin’. Cum for me. Goddamn, you’re so fuckin’ pretty when you cum.”

He kept going, his mouth relentless as he devoured you, sucking every last bit of your release, not giving you a moment to catch your breath.

His tongue was rough, greedy, lapping up everything you gave him. His fingers gripped your thighs tighter, pulling you closer to his mouth as if he couldn’t get enough.

“Gonna eat this pussy all night,” he muttered, his voice low and possessive, his mouth still working your overstimulated clit. “Ain’t no one else gets to taste you like this. Just me.”

Your legs trembled violently as another wave of pleasure surged through you, and your moans turned into soft, breathless whimpers.

But Joel didn’t stop. He was lost in you, obsessed with the way your body responded to him, the way you tasted, the way you shook and gasped beneath his touch.

He licked you again, slow and deliberate this time, savoring you as he pressed his face even deeper between your legs, his nose rubbing your sensitive clit with every movement.

“Can’t get enough of this pretty little cunt,” he murmured against you, his voice filled with a dark, possessive hunger. “You taste like heaven, baby. Ain’t never lettin’ you go.”

Your body trembled beneath him, the overstimulation becoming too much, every nerve ending in your body still buzzing from the intensity of your orgasm.

You gasped, your fingers clutching at his hair, trying to pull him away as his mouth continued its relentless assault on your sensitive flesh.

“Joel, please,” you whimpered, your voice breathless and shaky. “I can’t… it’s too much.”

But he didn’t stop. His lips pressed against you again, his tongue still moving, though slower now, savoring every inch of you.

He growled softly, his hands tightening around your hips as if he couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go, his grip possessive and firm.

“You’re safe,” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough and filled with an intense need. “I’ll keep you safe… forever.”

His words came out in a low rasp, his lips brushing against your overstimulated clit as he spoke. It wasn’t just about pleasure for him anymore—it was about control, about grounding himself in the only thing that made sense to him now.

You were his safety, the only thing that kept the chaos in his mind at bay.

Your body flinched at the continued stimulation, but there was something in his voice, in the way he spoke to you, that made you pause. And despite the intensity, despite how overwhelmed you felt, you softened, your fingers sliding from his hair to cup his face gently.

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice still shaky but soft, your fingers brushing against his cheek as you looked down at him. “I’m safe. You’ve got me, Joel.”

He looked up at you, his eyes dark but filled with something deeper—something vulnerable. His grip on you loosened just a little, and he leaned up, pressing his forehead to your thigh as he let out a shaky breath.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. “I’ll never let anything happen to you. I can’t… not after everything.”

You nodded, your body still sensitive, still trembling beneath him, but you understood. You knew what he was fighting, what he was trying to hold onto.

Your hands slid through his hair, soothing him, and for a moment, the intensity between you softened into something more gentle, something more real.

“I know,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible. “I’m yours, Joel. You’re keeping me safe.”

And with that, the tension in his body seemed to ease, just a little, as he pressed one last kiss to your thigh before pulling you into his arms, holding you tightly, as if you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

He let his hands move to the clasp of your bra, fingers fumbling just a little as he unhooked it, and with slow, deliberate care, he slid the straps down your shoulders. His eyes were dark, full of hunger again, as the fabric finally slipped away, revealing you fully to him.

“Gotta have every inch of you,” he rasped, his voice heavy with desire. “You’re too fuckin’ perfect, darlin’.”

His words slurring with the weight of his obsession as he dropped the bra to the floor.

Joel’s gaze locked onto your breasts, and a deep, guttural groan escaped him, his hands moving immediately to cup them, his rough, calloused fingers brushing over your soft skin like he was savoring every inch.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, his voice low and dripping with lust. “Look at these…”

His grip tightened slightly, his hands kneading your flesh as if testing the weight, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, already hard from his touch. His gaze darkened as he stared, completely mesmerized by the sight of you.

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he growled, dipping his head down, lips brushing softly at first over your skin, kissing the tops of your breasts. He lingered there, his breath warm, and just when you thought he might hold back, he latched onto you, mouth hot and eager, sucking hard, his tongue swirling over your sensitive nipple.

Your back arched involuntarily, pushing your chest toward him, a gasp slipping from your lips. The way his mouth worked on you, the wet, sucking sound mixed with his groans, sent a rush of heat through you.

His other hand moved to squeeze your other breast, fingers teasing and pinching at your nipple, sending jolts of pleasure through you.

“You like that, don’t ya?” Joel growled, his voice rough and gravelly against your skin. He sucked noisily on your breast, pulling more moans from you as his teeth grazed your nipple. “These perfect fuckin’ tits… they’re mine. All mine.”

His mouth moved from one nipple to the other, just as eager, leaving a trail of wet kisses on your flushed skin. He sucked hard, tugging gently with his teeth before biting down enough to send a sharp, pleasurable pain radiating through you. Your body jerked beneath him, but the way his lips wrapped around you, the way he sucked and licked—made it impossible to want him to stop.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his words slurring slightly, his voice drunk with lust. “You taste so fuckin’ good. So soft… everything about you.”

His mouth didn’t leave your skin, trailing lower with a messy trail of kisses, but he stayed focused on your breasts, alternating between the two like he couldn’t get enough.

“You’re all I need,” he whispered between kisses, his voice almost desperate now. “After everything… all that shit. I just need you. Nothing else.”

Your moans grew louder, your body trembling under his relentless attention. Every flick of his tongue, every bite of his teeth sent your mind spinning, your skin burning with the intensity of his need.

Joel’s breath hitched, the sound rough and needy as his hands roamed over your body, almost frantic now as if he couldn’t touch enough of you at once. His fingers trailed down, brushing over the curve of your hips, gripping tightly.

“I’m going to explode,” he growled, his voice strained with raw desire. “Can’t wait any longer. I need you now.”

His hands were rough, urgent, as they skimmed down your sides, over your hips, feeling every curve of your body. He couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t slow down, and it was driving him mad.

“Pull down my pants,” he ordered, his voice a low rasp, thick with need. His eyes burned into yours, the intensity of his stare sending shivers down your spine. “Do it, baby. Now.”

Your hands shook as you reached for his waistband, fingers fumbling with the button of his jeans, but you could feel the heat radiating from him, his breath heavy as he waited, every second sending his body into a deeper need.

You slid his jeans down slowly, the anticipation thick between you. As his boxers followed, his cock sprang free—hard, throbbing, already dripping with precum, the tip flushed and leaking. It was thick, veins running along its length, the sheer size of him making your breath catch.

Joel stood above you, completely exposed, his chest heaving, his cock twitching with the intensity of his need.

“You’re gonna thank me,” he said, his voice dark, his eyes glinting with a predatory hunger. “Thankful I saved you. Now show me.”

He took your hand, guiding it to his throbbing cock, his fingers curling around yours, urging you to touch him. As your hand wrapped around him, his breath hitched, his hips jerking slightly at the contact. The heat of him was overwhelming, his skin smooth but pulsing beneath your grip.

“Give it a kiss, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Show me how thankful you are. I saved you, didn’t I? You owe me that.”

You hesitated for a moment, your eyes flicking up to meet his, but the hunger in his gaze—his need—was too strong to resist. Slowly, you leaned forward, your lips brushing against the swollen tip of his cock. The taste of precum lingered on your tongue as a soft groan escaped Joel’s throat, his hand tangling in your hair, guiding you closer.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he rasped, his voice gravelly, dripping with lust. “That’s a good girl. Kiss it, baby. Show me how fuckin’ grateful you are.”

Your lips pressed soft kisses against him, working slowly along his length, and every touch made him groan deeper, his hips twitching as he craved more. The sight of you, your lips on him, drove him wild.

Joel’s grip tightened in your hair, pulling you closer, his breath ragged, his eyes dark with raw hunger as he gazed down at you.

“You’re thankful, aren’t you?” he rasped, his words rough and possessive. “I saved you… now make me feel it.”

Without hesitation, you let your tongue flick out, tracing the length of him, savoring the way his body reacted to every stroke, every touch. Joel’s head tipped back, his jaw clenched as a guttural groan escaped him.

“Fuck, yeah… that’s it,” he growled, his voice thick with pleasure. “Just like that, baby. Take your time.”

You worked him slowly, your tongue swirling over his length, feeling the heat of him pulsing beneath you. His body tensed, his grip in your hair tightening as he guided you, each movement pulling another growl from his chest.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, his voice a low rumble. “You know how to take care of me, don’t ya?”

His hips shifted, pushing slightly toward you as your mouth worked over him, your tongue teasing the underside of his cock, sending jolts of pleasure through him. The roughness of his words, the filthy way he talked, only made you want to take him deeper, to make him come undone.

“Fuck,” Joel groaned, his voice rough with need. “You’re so fuckin’ good at this… makin’ me lose my goddamn mind.”

Your lips moved lower, teasing his balls with soft kisses, and the second your tongue flicked over them, Joel’s body tensed, his breath catching in his throat.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the reaction immediate, his body trembling. “Goddamn, darlin’…”

You worked slowly, your tongue exploring, teasing him with soft, wet licks, savoring the way his cock twitched above you, the precum leaking steadily now. The sight of him—hard, throbbing, desperate—only fueled your desire to take him further.

Your mouth moved over his balls, sucking them gently, your tongue swirling around them, coating them with warm, slick spit. Joel could barely contain himself, his hips jerking slightly, his cock pulsing.

“you’re so fuckin’ good,” he muttered, his voice strained, thick with lust. “Look at you, takin’ care of me like this…”

The wet sounds of your mouth sent shivers down his spine as you sucked harder, teasing him with your tongue.

“You’re gonna make me lose it,” Joel groaned, his breath ragged, his hand threading through your hair again. “So fuckin’ perfect…”

As you moved your mouth back up to his cock, trailing kisses along the length of him, he nearly lost it. His cock throbbed harder now, aching for more. You took the tip into your mouth, sucking softly, your lips stretching around him as you slowly took him deeper.

“Fuck, yes,” Joel growled, his hips jerking involuntarily. “Just like that… fuckin’ perfect.”

You hollowed your cheeks, sucking harder, and Joel’s eyes darkened, his hand tightening in your hair as he guided you, his body trembling with need.

“Such a good girl,” he whispered, his voice low and rough. “Takin’ me so perfectly… fuck, you feel so good.”

Every stroke of your mouth, every flick of your tongue over him, sent his body spiraling, the pleasure building inside him, ready to explode.

“God, you’re gonna make me lose it,” he groaned, his voice almost desperate now. “Fuck… you’re so good, baby.”

Just before he could come, he pulled you off him, his chest heaving, his body trembling with the intensity of his need.

Joel’s hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he guided you back onto the bed. His eyes were dark with hunger, and the second your body hit the mattress, his lips crashed onto yours. The kiss was desperate, teeth grazing against your lips, his breath heavy with need.

He hovered above you, his body tense, every movement deliberate, as if he was grounding himself in the feel of you. His lips broke from yours to trail down your jaw, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses as he whispered against your skin.

“You’re safe… You’re here… You’re mine,” he rasped, his voice thick with raw emotion, laced with an edge of desperation. “I’ve got you, baby. Not letting go.”

His body pressed into yours, his hard cock sliding between your slick folds, the heat of him teasing you with every slow rock of his hips. He groaned, deep and guttural, as he felt your wetness coat him, the sensation driving him to the edge.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he muttered, his lips brushing against your neck, his hips moving deliberately as he teased you, his length sliding against you, the head of his cock brushing your entrance but never fully entering.

His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you flush against him as his hips rocked slowly, teasing both of you.

“I need you… I need to fuckin’ feel you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with the strain of holding back. “You’re everything, baby. All I’ve got.”

He pressed the swollen head of his cock against your entrance, inching forward, the slow stretch making you both gasp. He pushed inside you, inch by inch, his jaw clenching as he fought to keep control, his body trembling with the effort.

“Goddamn,” he groaned, his breath ragged as he filled you completely. “You’re mine, darlin’. All mine.”

Joel’s breath came out in heavy, uneven gasps as he moved over you, each slow thrust deliberate, his hips rocking into you with a controlled intensity. His eyes locked onto yours, watching your every reaction, your soft moans and gasps only fueling the fire inside him.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight,” he growled, his voice low, barely able to hold himself together. His hands slid up your sides, fingers grazing over your breasts, which bounced with every thrust. “So perfect… no one else gets this. No one but me.”

Your body responded to him instinctively, arching into him, matching his rhythm as the heat between you grew. His lips trailed down your neck, tasting your skin, sucking gently before biting down, just hard enough to make you gasp.

His hips began to pick up the pace, each thrust more forceful than the last, pushing deeper inside you. His eyes never left your body, watching the way your breasts bounced with every movement, the way your back arched, the way your fingers clutched at the sheets.

"Fuck," he growled, his voice deep, primal. "Look at you… takin’ me so good. This pussy was made for me."

His hands cupped your breasts, squeezing them roughly as he drove into you harder, his fingers teasing your nipples, rolling them between his fingers as he groaned with pleasure.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty like this,” he muttered, his voice slurred with lust, his breath hot against your skin. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

His movements became more urgent, more desperate, each thrust harder than the last. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, the wet, filthy sounds of your bodies colliding only driving him wilder.

His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulled you against him with every thrust, burying himself deeper inside you.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight,” he rasped, his breath coming out in ragged bursts. “This cunt… it’s mine. All mine.”

Your moans grew louder, each sound spilling from your lips driving him closer to the edge. His hips slammed into yours with brutal intensity, the force of his movements making your body tremble beneath him.

“You like that, don’t ya?” he growled, his voice rough, the filthy words dripping from his lips as he pounded into you. “You like when I fuck you like this… When I own every inch of you.”

His hands slid up your thighs, gripping them tightly as he spread your legs wider, giving him deeper access as he thrust harder, faster. His body was slick with sweat, his muscles straining as he gave you everything he had.

“Take it,” he muttered, his voice thick with lust, his eyes dark as he watched you. “Take every fuckin’ inch.”

Your body arched off the bed, your nails digging into his back as the pressure built inside you, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. Joel’s eyes never left yours, watching you come apart beneath him, his movements relentless as he drove you higher and higher.

“Fuck, you look so good,” he groaned, his voice barely audible between breaths. “Look at you, takin’ me so well. This fuckin’ body was made for me.”

His control was slipping, his thrusts becoming erratic, his body trembling with the effort to hold back. He could feel you tightening around him, your body shaking as you approached the edge, and it only pushed him harder, faster.

“You’re gonna cum for me,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a mix of filthy promises and raw need. “I wanna feel you cum all over my cock.”

With a final, deep thrust, you shattered around him, a loud cry ripping from your throat as your orgasm tore through you. Your entire body trembled, your legs shaking as you came hard, clenching around him.

“Fuck, yes,” he growled, his voice raw and desperate. “I’m gonna cum… inside you.”

Your breath hitched, and through the haze of pleasure, you gasped out, “No… not inside, Joel.”

But his grip on your hips tightened, his pace only increasing as he leaned down, his mouth brushing your ear. His breath was ragged, filled with need, and his voice darkened with that raw, possessive tone that always drove you wild.

“Oh, I’m gonna fill you up,” he growled, his words thick with lust. “Gonna shoot it deep inside, baby. Feel it? Gonna pump you full of me.”

Your protest was swallowed by the intensity of his thrusts, his body moving with a relentless, animalistic rhythm as he chased his release. Every movement was deliberate, driven by the need to claim you fully, to push you past the edge where you had no control left.

“You’re mine,” he whispered harshly, his grip bruising as his hips slammed into yours with brutal force. “This pussy is mine to fill. I’ll fuckin’ shoot every drop deep inside and watch it drip out of you.”

The heat between you both was unbearable, and his cock throbbed inside you, your body wrapped around him perfectly. His breath came out in ragged bursts as he buried himself deep, holding you tight, no intention of pulling out.

His voice lowered, dark and dirty. “You’ll feel me leaking out of you for hours, baby… that’s what I do. I fuckin’ claim you from the inside out.”

And with a guttural groan, Joel lost control, his hips slamming into you one last time as he came hard, spilling into you with a force that left him trembling. His body shuddered against yours, the heat of his release filling you as his cock pulsed, shooting wave after wave of hot cum deep inside.

“Fuck, yeah,” he growled, grinding his hips against yours, making sure you felt every last drop. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect for me. I fill you up, make sure you feel me long after we’re done.”

He collapsed onto you, his breath still ragged, his body trembling as the last waves of pleasure washed over him. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, holding you tight like he was never going to let you go.

“Every bit of you,” he murmured into your skin, his voice softer now, but still heavy with satisfaction. “You take all of me.”

· · ───

He didn't speak right away, but he slipped out of bed, disappearing briefly before returning with a warm towel. His movements were careful, almost methodical, as he gently cleaned you, parting your legs with slow, tender strokes.

You watched him, your heart heavy with the way he moved, so soft and deliberate, so different from the intense, possessive man from earlier. The shift unsettled you, though there was something undeniably intimate about the way he took care of you now, as if he was clinging to this moment.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, breaking the silence, his voice low and vulnerable, a sharp contrast to the growls and raw need he’d shown earlier.

He kissed your leg gently before setting the towel aside, pulling the covers up over both of you. "You okay?" His voice wavered, like he was afraid of your answer.

You nodded, but the weight of everything lingered between you. You like him, but the intensity of his need for you, the way he held onto control so fiercely, left you with a knot in your chest. The silence stretched on, and you knew you had to say it.

"I'm okay," you whispered, your voice soft, hesitant. But then the truth spilled out, delicate but firm. "But I… I'll need the morning-after pill. Tomorrow."

The air in the room shifted instantly. Joel froze, his hand still resting lightly on your hip, but his grip loosened. His eyes darkened slightly, a flicker of something unspoken passing through them—disappointment, maybe even hurt.

His chest rose and fell with a deep sigh, and though he nodded, the gesture felt slow, almost reluctant. "Yeah… whatever you need," he said quietly, his voice rougher now, carrying a weight that hadn’t been there before. “I’ll take care of it.”

He leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

Your heart twisted. You could see it—the subtle shift in him, the way he was trying so hard to keep it together, to be the one who could protect you from everything. But his need for control, for certainty, left him lost.

“I’ll get you some water,” he muttered, almost distracted, as if he needed something to do. He slipped out of bed again, the sound of his footsteps faint as he moved to the kitchen. You could hear the quiet clinking of glass, the faucet running, but all you could think about was the tension in his voice.

When he returned, he handed you the water, waiting for you to take a sip before placing it on the nightstand. His hand rested on your back, rubbing slow circles, but there was something off in the way he touched you—his need to care for you had become almost frantic, as if he was trying to prove something, trying to fix something he couldn’t control.

"Do you need anything else?" His voice was soft but insistent, his eyes searching yours as if waiting for another request, something else he could take care of. “More water? Food? Whatever you need, I’ll get it.”

You shook your head gently, but guilt gnawed at you. You hadn’t meant to unsettle him, hadn’t wanted him to feel like he wasn’t enough. You could see it in his eyes—the storm of emotions he was barely holding back, his desperate need to be there for you in every way.

“I’m good, Joel,” you whispered, offering him a small smile, but the weight of it all hung between you, the air thick with unspoken tension.

Joel’s eyes flickered, his jaw tightening as he swallowed hard, struggling to keep it together. His hand lingered on your hip, his breath uneven. "I just want you safe. I’ll make sure you have what you need."

The look in his eyes tugged at something deep inside you—a mix of guilt and tenderness. You hadn’t meant to make him feel like this, hadn’t wanted to push him further into the spiral you could see in his eyes.

You reached for him, your fingers brushing his cheek gently, and before he could say anything, you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. His breath hitched, his body stiff for a moment, but the tension in his shoulders began to ease under your touch.

“Come here,” you whispered softly against his lips, your hand sliding to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. “Lay down with me.”

For a moment, he just looked at you, his eyes searching yours as if he didn’t know what to say. But then, with a quiet sigh, he slipped back into bed beside you, pulling you into his arms as though he was afraid you might slip away.

His embrace was warm, comforting, but you could feel the vulnerability in the way he held you—the desperate need to protect you, to be everything for you, even when he was still fighting his own battles.

You kissed him again, softer this time, your lips lingering as you whispered, "I'm right here."

His breath came out in a shaky exhale, his arms tightening around you, holding you close as though it was the only way to ground himself. “I’ll always keep you safe,” he murmured, his voice rough but filled with emotion. “I promise.”

And though you knew there were things you couldn’t fix for him, though you couldn’t be the solution to all his pain, you let him hold you in that moment, let him believe that he could keep the chaos at bay.

Tomorrow, you’d have to face the hard conversations, the reality of what he needed. But tonight, you could be his anchor.

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

whew....

Another chapter will come, comment if u want me to remind you!! (also just really love comments, they make me so motivated)

xoxo

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yvesolace · 2 days

Text

JOYRIDE - ALCINA DIMITRESCU

this is gonna be my first time writing something like this so i hope i do well! this is also kind of self indulgent i've been having alcina brainrot for a few weeks now and the urge to write something about her is about to burst so i figured i should put it here. there may be some mistakes as it's my first smut and i didn't proofread it before i posted it but i hope you enjoy <3 (divider by anitalenia.tumblr.com) word count 1,074. content warnings: dom!alcina, sub!reader, hardcore filthy smut, alternate universe-modern setting, spit kink, rough sex, size difference, degradation kink, strap-ons, strap referred to as cock, orgasm denial, overstimulation, biting, marking, age gap (reader is in her 20s while alcina is in her 40s), pet names, choking, dirty talk, gagging, squirting, cunnilingus, pussy slapping, vaginal fingering, little bit of a belly bulge, blowjobs, slight mistress kink

there you were writhing underneath her just like you always are her grip on your throat so tight you can see stars. "alci.. please" you say through choked sobs. her strap is buried so deep into your cunt you can see it bulging through your stomach, she growls under her breath.. "come on be a good slut and take my cock." her tits bouncing and swaying with each deep thrust into you, you whine as you desperately try to bring one of her gorgeous tits into your mouth but she pulls away and makes a tsk sound with her tongue. "open." she says demanding you to open your mouth, you oblige she grips your jaw and spits into your mouth. you moan at the feeling of her warm spit falling onto your tongue, she chuckles.. "you're such a filthy whore, aren't you pet?" you nod, she grips your throat once more "use your words." "yes! yes i am. i'm your whore mistress." alcina's eyes glow hearing this "that's right all mine. all fucking mine." she says as she rams into your aching cunt even harder, pornographic squelching sounds come from your pussy, you feel like you're on fire. a warm coil growing into the pit of your stomach and clit "mmh i-i'm close.." she stops her movements immediately and pulls out, you buck your hips and whine at the empty feeling. "you're not going to cum yet kitten." she chuckles lowly.

your juices spilling out as you clench around nothing, your chest heaving up and down begging for her to be back inside you, filling you up with her thick cock. she slowly jerks herself off while looking at you- "do you like being my little fucktoy, huh slut?" she asks with a sly smirk, "mm i love it so much mistress." you reply your face flushed with ecstasy... "get on your knees and open your mouth for me pretty girl.." alcina tells you still stroking her cock, with no hesitation you get onto your knees and open your mouth wide. without warning, she thrusts herself into your mouth hitting the back of your throat making you gag. "come on pet, take it like a good slut" she says through gritted teeth- tears fill your eyes from the feeling of your esophagus being abused by her but at the same time you love it. you love the feeling of being used by her, by being fucked stupid until you can't think anymore.

she sighs "mm fuck.. you look so yummy on your knees, taking my cock like a good girl." she grabs a fistful of your hair thrusting forcefully, pushing herself farther down your throat, tears sting your eyes threatening to spill over and drool dribbling down your chin. she pulls out of your mouth with a 'pop'. you take a deep breath through your nose trying to regain some composure, your wetness spilling onto the sheets below, you look up at her beggingly "mistress please.. i need you.. it hurts." you say "what does my slut want? hm? i need you to be more specific darling." alcina gives a soft smile with an eyebrow raised. "i.." you start as you can feel yourself getting light headed at the thought- "please fuck me, use me until i can't walk anymore mistress." you say humping at nothing. "you're absolutely fucking pathetic." she snickers, "you're going to regret asking for that sweetness." she grips you forcefully and pins you to the bed, with her being much much taller than you she has an obvious advantage. she grabs your throat and slaps your pussy making you yelp. the sweet stinging of her palm hitting your clit makes your flesh feel like it's on fire.

alcina slides her middle and ring finger into your aching hole. "mmf.. fu-fuck" you moan out, alcina hisses as she starts leisurely pumping her long thick fingers in and out of your cunt, "does my slut like this?" she asks you staring directly into your eyes- you nod aggressively "i love it ss..so much alci,, more please.. mm" she quirks an eyebrow up at your request but obliges she slides her index finger in and starts rubbing your clit with her thumb "FUUCK yess" you yell out, "you better fucking tell me when you're close love." she says biting her lip watching you squirm under her touch, thrusting into you faster curling her fingers at just the right spot, it feels like she's tickling your insides with the way her fingers maneuver inside you. alcina leans down and starts biting and nipping at your neck while growling under her breath- "mm.. mine all fucking mine. you look so pretty with my fingers knuckles deep inside of you." you whimper in response, your breathing getting rapsier the coil in the pit of your stomach is back- you grip her arm "i- i'm close.. fuck." alcina starts thrusting into you faster curling her fingers even more and without warning you squirt all over her arm and stomach, convulsing as you cum onto her fingers whimpering her name along with curses.

she slows down her pace slowly removing her fingers from your pussy, moving slightly at the feeling. she goes down trailing little kisses from your neck to your tits, down your tummy until she reaches your cunt. "hhm you look divine.." she gives little kitten licks to your labia causing you to close your thighs to stop her but she pins them down holding them open. "m-mistress.. please i'm too sensitive.." she growls into you not listening to your plea she continues licking and sucking on your clit "fuck i could taste you forever." alcina says, you're still squirming but you feel yourself heating up again- your thighs start shaking and you cum into her mouth, her tongue lapping up all your juices as if she was dehydrated. she gives you a few more licks before pulling away licking her lips and fingers in the process, she moans "oh sweetness you taste so good.." you look up at her with stars in your eyes, you sit up and give her a feverish kiss tasting yourself on her tongue making you moan into her mouth. she pulls away holding the back of your neck and says "i love you, so so much darling." she smiles you reply "i love you more alci." you smile wide giggling, "come on love, let's get you cleaned up, hm?"

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #resident evil village #lady dimitrescu x female reader #lady dimitrescu smut #resident evil #resident evil smut #female reader #lesbian #wlw

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dreadfuldrip · 2 days

Text

The space between words

∼∼Confessions left unspoken

Trying to get into the worst Wolverine's pants :>

Logan Howlett x GN!Reader

a/n: This should be the first part of a 2(?) part series, so stay tuned.

CW: MDNI, GN!Reader, implied age gap, implied sexual content, alcohol consumption, reader gets called pretty thing, no use of y/n

Wade will be the death of you.

Seated at the kitchen table while Wade and Logan's return party ensues behind you, you have found yourself listening to Wade's mindless blabber. The man can not shut up about Vanessa. Having been Wade's neighbour and friend for the last decade, you're used to it.

"-and her ass christ, if I could give it an award, it'd be called 'most likely to cause distracted walking.' Seriously, it's like a work of art- I'm just waiting for the Louvre to call-"

As you pretend to listen to Wade's girl problems, your eye snags on Logan sitting alone on the couch as he nurses a beer. Hunched over with his elbows resting on either knee, he gazes off into nothing, utterly oblivious to your stare. You watch as Logan's thumb makes idle circles on the side of his drink, your mind drifting elsewhere as you wonder how it would feel to have his fingers circling something else. You nearly curse from the view as he places down his can to stretch out his back, reaching up over his head and inadvertently tugging up his shirt to expose a thick happy trail and muscled midriff.

Realizing you aren't paying attention, Wade turns to see what's caught your attention before spinning around and letting out a dramatic gasp.

"How long have you been eye-fucking peanut over there? And here I thought we were having a genuine connection!" Wade exclaims, looking half bewildered and talking far too loudly for your liking.

"Shut the fuck up," you hiss, eyes nearly bugging out of your skull. "Besides, what kind of 'connection' comes from talking about your ex for the last 2 hours? I haven't even had time to go try to actually fuck Wolfie over there, thanks to your sorry ass." You retort, watching as Wade forms a look of mock insult and clutches at his chest.

"I'm hurt, pumpkin, leading me on when I thought the whole ex thing was gonna get me some tonight." He pouts before standing and placing his hand on his forehead in faux distress.

"Don't let me distract you from your staring, but please let me know if you two are looking for a third. Always wanted to see if the Wolverine really is huge down under." He says, smirking at you before practically dancing into the room you last saw Vanessa disappear into.

Music is still playing from a speaker somewhere, but as you look around the room, you notice that most friends have either found a room to crash in or have left for the evening. Fuck, the evening is starting to look like yet another drinking alone with nothing but your hand to please you. With a sigh, you glance over to where you last saw Logan, only to realize he's already looking at you. You watch as he tips back the last of his beer and walks towards where you are seated in the kitchen, presumably to grab another from the fridge.

You speak up as Logan nears the kitchen and reaches to toss out his empty.

"So, you calling it quits, or can we find somewhere else to be?" You ask, resting your head on your hand and staring up at Logan.

Logan chuckles softly at the invite, turning his back to you for a second to grab another beer before facing you again.

"I'm far too old for you, bub." He replies, cracking a can and taking a swig.

You feel your cheeks heat up at the dismissal. If this were any other man, you would move on and find someone else to spend the night with. But something about Logan drives you crazy, boiling you down to your most primal needs. Not accepting failure so quickly, you try again.

"Oh, come on, Logan. A couple of drinks at the dive down the street never killed anyone. It's just your vibe, dark, gloomy, and has a certain characteristic to it very few enjoy." You tease, standing to shrug on a light jacket and looking back at him expectantly.

"You coming? Don't make me find some lonely creep to keep me company while there."

Maybe it was just your imagination, but something like jealousy flashed in Logan's eye as you spoke. Something about what you said set him in motion, tugging on his jacket before holding the door for you.

Having spent most of the walk to the bar in comfortable silence, you guide Logan through the doors of your favourite bar. Inside, the classic red lights and LED signs greet you, a couple of lonely strangers loitering around the bar counter.

Taking Logan's hand, you guide both of you towards the bar before heading towards a booth away from the strangers. You let go of Logan's hand to sit down, expecting him to sit across the table from you. To your surprise, he sits beside you. Your thighs brush together in the small booth, Logan's large frame taking up most of the space.

"Never thought a pretty thing like you would like this kinda place," Logan grunts, drinking from his glass before turning to face you. "Not like the beer is any good."

At this proximity, you can see the specks of gold in his brown eyes and faint scars littering his face. Pretty thing. Your cheeks feel hot under his gaze; you can only imagine how red your face is.

"They have live music on Wednesdays and Fridays; you never know what you'll get, but it's usually a good time. Wade told me you like this sorta place, so I thought I'd bring you around." You shrug, looking at the table to avoid his gaze.

You hear Logan let out a chuckle. "Are you taking dating advice from Wade? Didn't think anyone would stoop that low. Can't say whatever you're doing ain't workin' though." He returns the glass to his mouth; now it's his turn to avoid your eye.

Butterflies well up in your stomach at his words, the way he blatantly called out your bluff. His eyes are filled with something between hunger and mischief when he meets your gaze over his glass.

"This is going to be a fun night, Logan Howlett."

Logan doesn't reply to you, instead giving you a grin and finishing off his glass.

#fanfiction #x reader #reader #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #writing #the worst wovlerine #logan howlett #the wolverine #logan james howlett #wolverine x you #wolverine imagine

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pretzel-box · 3 days

Note

well... I'm trying to draw a Paintner from a streamer AU... AND IT'S REALLY HARD, I DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW TO HUMANIZE IT....

LET ME HELP YOU DEAR FRIEND BECAUSE I DIE EVERY TIME I SEE YOUR PRETTY ART.

Welcome to: STREAMER AU PAINTER FACTS!

including: Moodboards!

—× Painters real name is Vincent in the streamer au. It's a personal headcanon. [Vincent Van Gogh is my favourite painter.] He doesn't like his birth name and nicknames and calls himself Painter.

Now let's dive into the upcoming Streamer AU Lore. This is split in two sections: Vincent & Painter. Both are the same person but with different lifestyles.

VINCENT

-× Vincent is the adopted son of Urbanshades CEO. He isn't aware that he's adopted. He will be the heir to the company and has studied exactly for this goal because of his fathers request.

-× He graduated from the Ivy League [Yale] with excellent grades.

-× Works officially for Urbanshade but checks in rarely since he has the freedom to do so. It's more like a tiny site business to learn the ropes from his father.

-× He's somewhat distant and professional in front of the Urbanshade employees, trying to mimic the same expressions as his father to build a reputation of respect. He may appear cold, but his replies are always helpful and on point.

-× He has his own expensive car from a top brand and an own chauffeur.

-× He wears contact lenses during work. His vision isn't the best, but he hates wearing glasses during his office business.

-× His father indirectly forced him to everything, shaping him into the perfect heir to take over Urbanshade and continue the legacy. Vincent his own needs aren't important.

PAINTER

-× Painter is a nickname that Sebastian gave him. Once Painter complained that he hates who he is. Sebastian tried to tell him he doesn't have to be Vincent, when he can be the one thing he always wanted to be: a Painter. From then on Sebastian nicknamed him Painter.

-× Painter is rich and successful, yet he prefers to drive with a plain green bikecycle around in private, it keeps him fit, and he feels more free.

-× He has an own little tech shop as a hobby. He tries to earn his own money for opening up a small art studio for himself. His father isn't supporting him, so he has to reach that goal all by himself.

-× He doesn't care for the Yale Graduation, the money, Urbanshade or his dad. Painter wishes to become an artist and not the CEO of a world famous company.

-× Painter loves puzzles, strategy games and riddles. He would do the sudoku in newspapers, the crosswords in magazines and solve logic errors during breakfast. Sebastian couldn't understand how he can be so smart.

-× He paints in the back of his shop, much to Cordelias demise. She once stepped in a bucket of pink paint, it stained her favourite pair of shoes for the rest of her life. Aside from that, you can find many broken devices, scrap and beautiful paintings in the back.

-× He always thought he didn't need someone in his life. He was happy as long as his dad was happy. But when you stepped in, he felt as if the world suddenly gained colours. He is absolutely mesmerized by you and is conflicted because his best friend feels the same.

#roblox pressure #pressure #pressure x reader #pretzelthoughts #streamer au #painter x reader #roblox painter #painter #pressure painter

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romerona · 2 days

Text

All Y/N ever wanted to do was sing her songs and be free. Yet somehow, after offering to pay for the meal of a certain boy in a straw hat she finds herself causing havoc through the East Blue.

Masterlist - Next.

Trigger warning: canon violence. Word count: 7.4K

A/N: The only thing I will be describing about Y/N is her hair colour. Everything else you can imagine her as you wish.

Disclaimer: The songs I will be using in this fic aren't mine bc I have 0 creativity. I'm sorry.

Syrup Village, Gecko Islands.

It's been a few days since Buggy's mishap. The days dragged on tediously, with Y/N's head throbbing every time Nami and Zoro argued or Luffy experimented with potential names for their non-existent crew. Therefore, when it was revealed that Nami's boat was gradually sinking, Y/N felt a surge of relief because it meant they needed to navigate towards the nearest island, which they did.

Currently, they found themselves at Syrup Village on Gecko Islands…

The village exuded a quaint charm, with its small, closely-knit community and rustic architecture. Cobbled streets wound through clusters of thatched-roof cottages, each adorned with colourful window boxes brimming with vibrant flowers. The air was filled with the scent of salt from the nearby sea, mingling with the aroma of freshly baked bread from the village bakery.

Children laughed and played along the streets, their cheerful voices carrying on the gentle breeze. Merchants peddled their goods from wooden stalls, offering everything from fresh produce to handmade trinkets. The villagers moved with a relaxed, unhurried pace, greeting one another warmly as they went about their daily routines.

Y/N flashed a charming smile at the baker as she accepted the paper bag of biscuits. "Much appreciated, kind sir."

The baker, a portly man with flour-dusted hands and a warm, ruddy face, beamed back at her. "You're most welcome, young lady. Freshly baked this morning. I hope you enjoy them!"

Y/N's eyes twinkled with mischief. "With a scent this heavenly, I'm sure they'll taste like a slice of paradise. You have a true gift for making hearts flutter."

The baker's cheeks turned a deep magenta, and he chuckled sheepishly.

"You are too kind," he stammered, clearly flustered by Y/N's charm.

Y/N leaned in slightly, her tone conspiratorial. "Oh, but you deserve the recognition, especially when delectable treats are involved."

The baker's eyes widened with surprise, and a shy grin played on his lips. "Well, in that case, I'll have to make sure to bake extra special goodies for you next time."

Y/N gave him a playful wink. “I’ll hold you to that promise. Thank you again, and may your ovens always stay warm and your dough always rise perfectly.”

With a final charming smile, Y/N bid the chuckling baker farewell and sauntered off.

As Y/N walked through the cobbled streets, savoring the sweet treat, the corner of her eye caught a flash of orange. She turned her head slightly and saw Nami approaching, her hair unmistakable in the bright sunlight. Without missing a beat, Nami fell into step beside Y/N, her eyes scanning the surroundings with a practiced precision.

“Found something useful about this town?” Y/N asked, offering the open paper bag of biscuits.

Nami reached into the bag, taking a biscuit as she continued to survey the street. “We’re in luck. This is a ship-building town,” she replied, her voice laced with a hint of satisfaction.

Y/N hummed in acknowledgment, her gaze softening as a group of children darted past them, their laughter echoing through the air. An older woman, likely their grandmother, scolded them gently from a nearby doorstep. Y/N smiled at the scene, thinking that if she weren’t caught up in the whirlwind of adventures with Luffy and the crew, she might have enjoyed staying in a place like this for a while.

“How about you? Found something?” Nami asked, her tone casual but with an undercurrent of curiosity.

Y/N smirked, holding up the half-eaten biscuit. “Apart from these divine biscuits, not much yet. But the villagers are friendly.”

Nami scoffed lightly as she took a bite of her biscuit. “More like naive,” she said, her eyes narrowing slightly. “But that works in our favor since we need to take one of their ships.”

Y/N nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Let’s just hope they don’t notice it missing too soon. This place seems peaceful—I’d rather not bring trouble here.”

Nami glanced at her, a small smirk playing on her lips. “Don’t go soft on me, Y/N.”

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. “I’m not going soft. Just enjoying the calm before the storm.”

The two continued down the street, their conversation drifting to lighter topics as they made their way through the village until they reached the straw hat Luffy and three swords Zoro.

“Hey! You got us a ship?” Luffy called out as soon as he spotted them, his eyes lighting up with excitement. Then, his gaze zeroed in on the bag of biscuits in Y/N’s hands, practically sparkling with anticipation.

“Working on it. Did you push the sloop out to sea like I told you?” Nami asked, her tone brisk as she kept her focus on their mission.

“Yeah.” Luffy nodded, already diving into the bag and pulling out the last three biscuits. “No Marines are gonna be following us here.”

Y/N’s scowl was immediate, and with a swift hand, she snatched one of the biscuits back from him. “Leave me one.”

“Well, we’re not gonna be here very long. Turns out Syrup Village is known for their shipbuilding. Lots of options,” Nami explained, glancing between them.

“What are we waiting for then?” Luffy asked, already chomping down on his biscuit as he began striding off in the direction both girls had just come from.

Nami sighed, her expression a mix of confusion, frustration and acceptance as she followed after him.

Y/N chuckled softly at their captain’s predictability, but just as she was about to move, the sound of paper tearing made her pause. She turned to see Zoro ripping Buggy’s wanted poster, crumpling it in his hand with a scowl.

“Stupid clown,” Zoro muttered, his tone laced with annoyance.

"Stupid clown indeed," Y/N’s lips twitched into a grin as she gave him a playful pat on the back. “But we did get to wipe that smirk off his painted face. Worth it, don’t you think?”

Zoro’s expression darkened further. “Should’ve cut his dick off,” he grumbled, tossing the crumpled paper to the ground.

Y/N laughed, a light, melodic sound that seemed to ease some of the tension in the air. “Ah, but then what would he have left to make a fool of himself with? Besides, something tells me your swords will have plenty of other targets soon enough, so don't dwell on it, hot shot.”

"For now, how about a little sugar to sweeten that sour mood?” She held up the last biscuit with a teasing wink. “Consider it a token of my endless admiration for your swordsmanship.”

Zoro eyed the biscuit, then Y/N, who continued to grin up at him with that infectious charm. After a moment of regarding her, he sighed and took the treat. “Let’s go then, stupid.”

Y/N gasped in mock offence, placing a hand over her heart. “You wound me, Zoro. But I’ll forgive you since you’re sharing this last biscuit with me.” She snapped off a piece of the treat and popped it into her mouth before Zoro could protest. Shaking her head with a smirk, she quickly caught up with the rest.

The four of them walked through the bustling shipyard, their eyes scanning the area for a suitable vessel. The shipyard was a hive of activity, each corner alive with the sounds and sights of shipbuilding.

Y/N’s gaze roamed over the scene with a mixture of fascination and appreciation. Workers moved with practiced efficiency, their hands expertly crafting the vessels from the ground up. Carpenters were hard at work, sanding wooden planks with smooth, rhythmic strokes, each swipe transforming rough wood into sleek, polished surfaces. Nearby, blacksmiths wielded hammers with precision, shaping red-hot iron into nails and screws. The clanging of metal against metal rang out in a steady rhythm, a stark contrast to the otherwise serene surroundings.

“Look at ’em all,” Luffy said, his eyes wide with fascination as he took in the busy scene.

“How much do these cost?” Zoro wondered aloud, his gaze drifting over the impressive array of vessels.

Y/N let out a scoff, her tone laced with sarcasm. “Oh, a pittance. Just your firstborn, an eye, half a leg, and if we're feeling generous a pint of your finest blood— bargain prices, really.”

Luffy’s excitement seemed to shift into high gear. “Okay, so we need one with a very, very impressive figurehead. At least two… no, three masts! And a really high crow’s nest!”

Nami shot him a look, “We’re not gonna be able to sail a ship anywhere near that size. There’s only four of us.”

Luffy’s enthusiasm remained undeterred. “Four of us right now.”

Y/N chimed in, a playful smirk on her face. "Unless you manage to recruit another weird, desperate soul to help us, that is."

Zoro grunted. “Speak for yourself.”

Both Nami and Y/N rolled their eyes in unison.

Listen, we’re going to need something a little less flashy if we want to sneak out of here,” Nami said firmly, catching Luffy off guard.

The straw hat boy came to a sudden halt, causing the others to stop with him. He turned to Nami, his frown deepening with confusion. “You want to steal a ship?”

“How else did you expect us to get one?” Nami asked her tone a mix of amusement and exasperation.

“I don’t know. But we can’t steal one,” Luffy said with determined finality.

Y/N shrugged her tone a blend of resignation and sympathy. She didn't enjoy the idea of stealing the hard, arduous work of someone but she also understands what it takes to survive. “It’s less about ‘wrong’ and more about ‘what works' because either we get practical or get used to swimming. It’s your call, stud.”

“A ship isn’t just a ship,” Luffy said, determination in his eyes. “It’s part of our crew. We need the perfect one. And we’re going to get it the right way.”

Y/N felt a twinge of sympathy. It was as if he hadn’t quite grasped the harsh realities of the world—or maybe he simply refused to. His optimism was endearing, even if it was a little misguided

“Okay, pitch that to the salesman. I’m sure that’ll win him over,” Nami said, her sarcasm barely masked.

Luffy’s smile widened. “Exactly.” He then started walking off in a random direction, leaving the others to watch him go.

The remaining trio sighed in unison.

“Right over his head, as usual.” Y/N huffs, shaking her head with a wry smile.

“So what are we actually going to do?” Zoro asks

“I’m guessing plan A, right?” Y/N said with a shrug.

With a resigned sigh, Nami nodded. “Find a ship and see how lax the security is around here.”

“Got it,” Zoro replied, his tone reflecting a mix of determination and acceptance.

The three of them set off in the direction Luffy had wandered. After a bit of searching, they finally found him admiring a ship with unrestrained enthusiasm.

“There you are,” Nami said, catching up with the eager boy.

“Guys!” Luffy called out, “I found it. I found our ship!”

Y/N looked up at the vessel he was so enthusiastic about. The first thing that caught her eye was the large figurehead—a jovial ram’s head perched proudly at the prow, its carved eyes gleaming with a friendly, mischievous glint. The ship, though modest in size, radiated a warm, inviting aura. The polished wooden hull, adorned with intricate patterns, was both elegant and whimsical. Y/N couldn’t help but smile; the ship was certainly unique, if a bit quirky. Just like Luffy.

“And this guy will sell it to us,” Luffy said, pointing at a boy with a bandana and a cleaning cloth in his hands.

The trio turned to the so-called salesman. The boy’s expression oscillated between confusion and alarm.

“Uh, wait. What? Uh…” the boy stammered.

“Yeah! The ship, we’ll take it,” Luffy declared with confidence.

“Technically, she’s not for sale,” the boy said slowly, earning a confused “huh?” from Luffy. “And technically, I’m not a salesman.”

“Then what are you doing around here?” Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow.

The boy’s face lit up as he noticed Y/N. He puffed out his chest. “Well, you see, I’m the Chief Technician in charge of encrustation removal and aviary waste eradication.”

Y/N stifled a laugh, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Ah, I see. A very prestigious title.”

“Encru what?” Luffy asked, looking genuinely puzzled.

“He scrubs barnacles and cleans bird shit,” Zoro explained flatly.

Nami sighed, looking to Luffy. “He can’t help us.”

As they turned to leave, the boy’s voice rang out.

“Wait! Wait! Wait! I can help you,” he called, a hopeful smile spreading across his face. “The owner of this ship is my closest friend in the world.”

“Your friend owns this ship?” Nami asked, clearly skeptical.

“Not just this one. She owns the whole shipyard,” the boy said, his grin widening with a touch of arrogance. “She’s rich, rich.”

“Oh!” Luffy exclaimed, his eyes lighting up.

“I’m sure you could strike a deal with her,” the boy said confidently.

Luffy turned to the group with a hopeful grin. “See?”

Y/N pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I don’t know…”

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Nami said with an unusually sly smile. “It couldn’t hurt to say hello.”

Y/N glanced at Nami for a second, at her grin, definitely planning something. With a resigned sigh, Y/N nodded with a tight smile. “Alright, let’s go meet this friend of yours and see if we can charm her into giving us a ship.”

The boy beamed, clearly delighted by their willingness to meet his friend. “Great! Follow me. You’re going to love her.”

Usopp, as they had come to learn the boy’s name was, led them to the edge of the village. There, towering above the town, stood a massive mansion that seemed almost out of place amidst the quaint charm of Syrup Village. The elegant structure loomed with an air of grandeur, its pristine walls and manicured gardens hinting at the wealth of its owner.

"I’ve never seen a house this big before," Luffy said gazing at the mansion.

"Impressive, right?" Usopp grins, and he walks backwards to talk to them a skip on his step as he continues, "Kaya’s given me an open invitation to drop by anytime I want."

"All of this just for one person?" Luffy asked, puzzled.

Usopp leans against the well, "Well, she lives here with her butler and a few other staff."

Y/N whistled as she peered down the dry well, a playful smirk on her lips. "When I’m famous, I’ll need a place like this—no, scratch that. Bigger, with a well so deep you could drop your problems in it and never hear them hit the bottom."

Y/N started to head toward the front door but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder, gently guiding her away. "Errr—not that way," Usopp said, releasing her as he led them toward a lush garden and… a pond?

Luffy, ever curious and clueless, asked, "So if you have an invitation, why are we going around the back way?"

"I never use the front entrance." Y/N frowns as she watched the boy leap across the large, floating plants. "This is more of a VIP entrance reserved for special guests."

In the short time of knowing Usopp, Y/N knew he had a knack for stretching the truth, but she hoped that at least this time, there was some truth to it. If he knew another way into the manor, he must've been here before. Plus, the way he talked about Kaya, the girl who lived there, made it seem like he knew her personally.

Against her better judgment, Y/N hopped onto one of the large plants. It was surprisingly fun.

Just as she landed on another plant, Usopp suddenly halted. "Oops. You know, there’s actually a more exclusive entrance this way."

Y/N looked up just in time to see a burly butler throw something with pinpoint precision, landing between Usopp’s feet, causing him to gasp.

"What the hell are you doing here, Usopp?" the butler growled, advancing toward them. Behind him was a blue-haired woman—another maid, Y/N assumed—expertly swinging a broom like a weapon.

Y/N couldn’t help but think, That’s... odd. These butlers seem way too familiar with weapons.

"Buchi, buddy, uh, Kaya’s expecting me," Usopp said, voice urgent.

The butler, Buchi, hissed, echoing Y/N’s thoughts. "Another one of your lies."

The butler grabbed hold of Usopp's shirt, pulling him closer as he hissed, "You ain't welcome here, and you know it."

Usopp, despite being in a tight spot, kept his carefree demeanour. "I know nothing of the sort," he said, unfazed, if a little nervous. "I’m here to give Kaya an extra-special gift."

Y/N couldn’t help but feel a flicker of amusement at Usopp’s audacity, even in such a tense situation.

Suddenly, like a beam of light cutting through the tension, a girl's voice rang out. "Usopp!"

From deeper in the garden, a young girl—no older than the group—emerged, leaning on another butler for support. Y/N could tell he was likely the head butler, judging by how the other two straightened up immediately. Luffy, Y/N, Nami, and Zoro exchanged glances filled with curiosity and confusion, particularly at the realization that Kaya, the girl of the house, actually knew Usopp.

With ash-blonde hair and wearing a soft pink dress, Kaya beamed at Usopp with pure happiness. "What a wonderful surprise!"

"Hmm!" Usopp grinned victoriously, brushing off Buchi's hands as he confidently walked toward her. "Kaya!"

"Happy birthday," he said once he was close enough.

Kaya’s smile was shy but full of admiration. "You remembered."

"Of course I did."

The head butler, wearing glasses and white gloves, cleared his throat sharply. "Usopp, we've discussed this. You musn't show up unannounced."

"Nonsense, Klahadore," Kaya quickly interjected, giving Usopp an encouraging smile. "Have you come to tell me another story? I do love hearing about your adventures."

"I'll do you one better," Usopp replied, turning toward Y/N, Luffy, Nami, and Zoro, and dramatically gesturing toward them. "I brought some of my crew."

Y/N’s eyebrow twitched in confusion.

Luffy glanced at Zoro, Nami, and Y/N, all wearing the same bewildered expression. "Is he talking about us?"

Kaya, however, does not seem to notice it and smiles at the four. "It’s so nice to meet you. You all must stay for dinner."

Klahadore’s eyes darted to Kaya, his tone instantly concerned, if a little anoyed. "Miss Kaya, it is a bit last minute. I’m afraid the kitchen hasn’t prepared for any extra guests."

From beides her, Luffy deflated.

"Please, Klahadore," Kaya pleaded, her voice sweet as she gave him a pout. "It’s my birthday. Can’t be too much trouble, can it?"

"Of course, Miss Kaya," Seems that the girl's pout did its work the butler didn't even hesitate this time around. "Anything for you."

Luffy perked right back up. "All right! So, when do we eat?"

Without missing a beat, Klahadore replied, "You don’t. Not dressed like that."

Y/N’s expression soured slightly as she glanced down at her outfit. It wasn’t the fanciest, sure, but she certainly didn’t think she looked bad. She scoffed, crossing her arms. "Rude."

"Sham, please show Usopp and his… friends to the guest suites," Klahadore instructed. The blue-haired woman stepped forward at his command. "You will all bathe and change before dinner," he added, looking back at the group.

Sham gave a curt nod and led the way inside the mansion, the others following.

"A bath does sound nice," Nami said, smiling as she followed Luffy, who skipped along behind Sham.

Usopp followed next, but Zoro and Y/N lingered—each for different reasons. Zoro’s gaze lingered on Klahadore with a hint of suspicion, while Y/N hesitated for a different motive. She wanted to charm the birthday girl. After all, as Usopp had demonstrated, having powerful friends never hurt.

With a dazzling smile, Y/N sauntered over to Kaya and the ever-watchful Klahadore, their gazes snapping to her in unison. Undeterred, she tilted her head slightly, letting a playful glint appear in her eyes as she spoke.

"Well, I figured after such a warm welcome," Y/N said with a subtle wink, glancing at the butlers before focusing on Kaya, "it’d be rude of me not to introduce myself properly." She extended her hand gracefully. "Y/N, at your service. And a very happy birthday to you! If I’d known, I’d have brought a gift—or at least a balloon or two."

Kaya blinked, caught off guard for a moment before a giggle escaped her. "Oh, thank you! That’s very kind of you."

Y/N flashed a grin. "Kindness comes naturally when I’m around people as lovely as you." Her eyes darted toward Klahadore, her voice dropping playfully.

"Though, if I’d known we were in for such a grand entrance, I might’ve brought a sword too. Seems like that’s part of the dress code around here." She smirked at the butler’s stiff posture, her words teasing but never crossing the line into disrespect.

Kaya blushed slightly, clearly charmed. "I’m so glad you could all join. Please, don’t worry about a gift—your company is enough."

Y/N placed a hand on her chest, feigning relief. "Thank the stars. I’m a terrible shopper, anyway. Though, if we ever need to sneak into a party again, Usopp and I will make a fabulous team."

Even Klahadore seemed momentarily at a loss for words, while Kaya laughed brightly. It was a small victory, but one Y/N could savor as she followed the rest of the group, already making mental notes on how to further charm the household.

But suddenly, Kaya began to cough, causing Y/N's grin to fade into a look of concern. It was then that she noticed just how pale and sickly the girl appeared—gnarly, in fact. Kaya’s cheeks were flushed, and her eyes looked a bit too bright, as if she were fighting something beneath the surface.

"Miss Kaya, we should head inside so I can get you some tea," Klahadore said, still holding into the girl.

Y/N stepped closer, her tone gentle but firm. "Is there anything I can do to help? I’m no healer, but I’ve seen a thing or two when it comes to health."

Kaya shook her head, trying to muster a reassuring smile, but it fell flat. "I’ll be fine. Just... need some tea."

"That you do,” Klahadore remarked, his voice neutral but laced with a hint of reluctant acknowledgment as he gently guided Kaya back toward the mansion. “Let us take our leave then.”

As they moved, Klahadore glanced back at Y/N, his voice cold professionalism. “Please, Miss Y/N, follow your friends to the guest suites and make yourself presentable for dinner.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at his words but kept her composure, offering a charming smile. “Of course, wouldn’t want to miss the chance to freshen up. After all, first impressions are everything.”

She gave a playful wink before turning on her heel, but not before throwing a quick glance at Kaya, silently promising to check on her later.

After a thorough, very refreshing, and much-needed wash, Y/N made her way to the closet, expecting a modest room with a few spare garments and maybe some accessories to choose from. But as soon as she opened the door, her jaw nearly hit the floor.

The ‘closet’ was an entire room—no, a boutique—bursting at the seams with every kind of clothing imaginable. Silks, satins, velvets, lace, and fabrics she couldn’t even name filled the racks. Gowns, tunics, trousers, and dresses in every color she could dream of. There were shelves dedicated to shoes, from the dainty to the daring, and accessories sparkling like stars under soft light. It was basically the heaven of clothing, and Y/N was living for it.

Her eyes gleamed as she stepped inside, fingers grazing the fabrics, a giddy smile creeping onto her face.

“Oh, I could get used to this…” she muttered, practically vibrating with excitement. She didn’t know where to begin—was it the shoes, the gowns, or that ridiculously luxurious-looking coat hanging in the corner?

However, as the rest of her group entered the ‘closet,’ it became clear that Y/N was the only one genuinely enjoying the experience.

“Why would anyone even need this many clothes?” Luffy asked, his voice echoing off the lavishly adorned walls as Y/N held up yet another dress to inspect.

Nami, behind a divider, was quick to respond. “It’s not about need with these people; it’s about want.”

“What are we even supposed to wear?” Luffy asked, looking utterly baffled as he peered at the colorful array of garments.

Y/N grinned, feeling a spark of mischief. “Literally anything you want, stud. And I say we should take advantage of it because I hardly think you’ll wear wear things this nice in the future.”

She held up a black vest, similar to the ones he usually wears, playfully placing it over his chest and winked. “This one might bring out those dreamy eyes of yours.”

Luffy blinked, momentarily processing, before breaking into a wide, goofy grin. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely!“ Y/N chuckled, giving him a playful nudge. “You could be the life of the party.”

Nami stepped out from behind the divider, her figure adorned in a classic dark blue dress. She struck a pose, looking expectantly at Luffy and Y/N. “Well? What do you think?”

“You look like Nami,” Luffy shrugged, offering a response that did little to boost her confidence.

Nami’s lips pursed in irritation, and she turned to Y/N for a second opinion. Y/N shook her head. “Not your style, pumpkin. We need something that really pops!”

“Hey, Zoro!” Luffy called out, causing Y/N to glance toward the entrance.

Zoro entered, his usual indifference etched on his face. Clad in a bathrobe and holding his three swords, he scanned the room with a nonchalant air.

“What are you gonna wear?” Luffy asked, curiosity evident in his tone.

“Something black,” Zoro replied flatly as he moved deeper into the room.

“How edgy,” Nami muttered sarcastically from behind the divider.

“I don’t know, I reckon I quite like black on him,” Y/N said, slipping into a pretty yellow dress that shimmered in the light.

“Hey, does that butler seem familiar to you guys?” Zoro asked, his gaze drifting toward the door.

Nami shot back, “Yeah, I think he was at the last dinner party I attended.”

“I swear I’ve seen him somewhere,” Zoro continued, taking a seat and placing his swords on the ground beside him.

Nami emerged again, now in another lackluster dress. “How’s this?”

Luffy shrugged, “Still Nami.”

“I said I’m wearing black,” Zoro reiterated, his expression unchanged.

“I hate you guys,” Nami deadpanned.

“Y’know, Zoro, now that you mention it, he does seem oddly familiar,” Y/N chimed in, stepping out from another divider in her eye-catching yellow dress. She looked at Nami and shook her head. “No, baby. That just won’t do. We need something that’ll make a statement —not blend into the wallpaper!”

“You’re all annoying,” Nami huffs as she started to look through the racks of clothes.

With newfound energy, Y/N began rifling through the dresses again, determined to find the perfect outfit for Nami. “Let’s find you something that’ll turn heads!”

"Sadly, Y/N, we're not all you," Nami muttered, half-joking as she skimmed through the rows of clothes.

Y/N gave a playful smirk, flicking through the garments with ease. "Well, darling, not everyone can have my impeccable taste."

As they continued to browse, Luffy wandered aimlessly around the room, his eyes darting from the towering shelves to the endless racks of extravagant outfits. “I kind of feel bad for Kaya,” he said, almost absentmindedly. “All this stuff. All this space. It’s gotta make a person feel… lonely.”

Y/N paused, her hand hovering over a dress. Luffy's innocent observation hung in the air, tugging at a thread of empathy that she hadn’t quite expected to feel in that moment.

"He's got a point," she said softly, glancing around at the grandeur that suddenly felt a bit... empty. "Having all these nice things doesn’t mean much if you don’t have anyone to share it with."

Nami crossed her arms, her tone dry. "Rich people don’t have the same emotions we do. This stuff doesn’t make her feel lonely. It makes her feel important."

Y/N pursed her lips thoughtfully, still not quite buying Nami’s take. Kaya hadn’t struck her as the type to relish in wealth or power, but then again, she’d only just met the girl. “Hmm,” she hummed noncommittally, pulling a sleek red dress off the rack. "Maybe… but she didn’t seem like the ‘money equals importance’ type."

"Well, Usopp likes her," Luffy chimed in, ever the optimist. "And she invited us to dinner!" His eyes sparkled at the mention of food, an unmistakable grin spreading across his face. "I’m sure we can work out a way to get that ship."

Nami didn’t even glance up, still rifling through the endless garments. "No way. Rich people don’t stay rich by giving things away."

Y/N shrugged, holding the dress up to regard it. "She might."

Nami mumbled under her breath, “Hardly.”

But Luffy’s grin only widened as he turned to Nami with a glint in his eyes. "You want to bet?"

That caught Nami’s attention. She stopped mid-search and eyed him with interest. "What are the terms?"

Luffy stepped forward, confident as ever. "I bet I can convince Kaya to give us that ship."

Nami raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And when you can’t?"

Luffy paused for just a second before answering, "We go with your plan. Steal one and move on."

Nami grinned, extending her hand. "You’re on."

Y/N rolled her eyes dramatically, draping the red dress over her arm. "Oh, goodie. A gentleman’s wager. How refined." She glanced between them with a playful smirk. "I’d start polishing my silver tongue if I were you, Stud."

Nami pulled out another shirt, giving it a brief glance before casually tossing it at Zoro. He caught it effortlessly and looked it over with his usual deadpan expression.

"Nice," Zoro muttered, as if mildly impressed, but not overly excited.

Nami barely had time to react before Y/N swept in like a whirlwind, red dress in hand and that signature mischievous grin plastered across her face. With a teasing flourish, Y/N wiggled the dress toward her like it was the Holy Grail.

"Found something for ya, pumpkin," she teased, voice dripping with playful charm.

Nami raised an eyebrow, eyeing the dress skeptically. "Red? Really?"

"Trust me," Y/N winked, grabbing Nami’s hand and practically dragging her behind the room divider. She positioned her in front of the mirror, standing behind her and holding the dress up to Nami’s frame. The contrast of the vibrant red against Nami’s skin made Y/N’s grin widen.

"See?" Y/N purred, her voice dipping into a whisper as she met Nami's gaze in the reflection. "This dress is the perfect blend of sultry and sophisticated—just like you, Nami. It’ll hug your curves in all the right places and make you look utterly irresistible." She flashed a knowing smile, adding, "Trust me, It’ll make you look like a million Berri."

Nami’s lips twitched, trying and failing to hide a smile. "You're dangerous."

Y/N grinned wider, giving Nami a playful nudge. "Dangerously right, you mean."

Nami, after a moment of staring at Y/N in the reflection, looked away, her gaze darting as if she’d just been caught in a secret. An uncharacteristic hint of pink dusted her cheeks as she took the dress from Y/N. "Fine, whatever. I’ll wear it,"

“Great!” Y/N exclaimed, her grin blooming into a triumphant beam, practically radiating delight. With Nami set, she turned back to the closet, her eyes dancing over the racks like a kid in a candy store. ‘Now, it’s time for me to find something…’

At long last, the four were dressed to the nines, gathered in the grand foyer, waiting for Kaya. Usopp and Luffy were thoroughly enjoying the appetizers, both looking like kids in a candy store as they devoured the tiny, fancy bites with gusto.

Nami, ever the strategist, was busy chatting up Merry, the man who handled Kaya’s finances. He had a peculiar appearance—his hair resembling a lamb’s fleece with two small horns poking through, making him look as though he’d just wandered off a pastoral scene. Despite the odd look,

Zoro, in true Zoro fashion, had found the comfiest spot in the room—a plush sofa—and settled in with a glass of fruity cocktail, his face unreadable as always. He gave off the impression of someone who had no interest in the opulence around him.

Y/N, with her cocktail in hand, decided to join the swordsman, her emerald dress flowing elegantly as she took a seat beside him.

"So, you look... almost civilized," she teased with a playful smirk, swirling her drink as she settled in. "I think that fruity cocktail’s working wonders for your edge."

Zoro scoffed, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. "Don’t get used to it."

Y/N chuckled, taking a sip of her drink. "Wouldn’t dream of it, hotshot. Though I gotta say, you look unsurprisingly handsome. You might even be mistaken for a gentleman if you stay quiet long enough."

Zoro raised an eyebrow, leaning back into the sofa with an amused grunt. "I’ll take that as an insult." He watched her out of the corner of his eye before adding, "You’re not so bad yourself. That dress looks... expensive."

"Why, thank you, Zoro." Y/N winked at him. "It’s called ‘style'. I wouldn’t expect you to understand, but you wear black with enough attitude that I suppose it evens out."

He gave a small chuckle, which was about the closest to a compliment she'd expect from him. The two sat there in a comfortable silence for a moment, watching the others.

"Think this dinner’s going to be as fancy as all this?" Y/N asked, glancing around the opulent surroundings.

Zoro shrugged, taking another sip. "Doesn’t matter to me as long as the food’s good. Fancy or not, it all goes down the same way."

Y/N laughed, raising her glass in agreement. "I’ll drink to that."

A moment later, the soft clearing of a throat at the top of the stairs made the room fall silent. Klahadore, ever the picture of formality, stood tall as he announced, "May I present... Miss Kaya."

All eyes turned upward as Kaya appeared, gracefully descending the stairs with Klahadore’s arm for support. She was dressed in a delicate yellow gown adorned with subtle dots, her face glowing with a wide, genuine smile—one that made Y/N smile as well, though she wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe it was the warmth of the moment or the way Kaya's joy seemed to radiate outwards.

At the bottom of the stairs, Merry stepped forward to meet her. Offering his arm with a soft smile, he said, "Kaya, you look absolutely radiant."

Kaya's smile brightened as she took his arm with familiarity. "Merry, I’m so glad you could make it."

"This is a milestone I wouldn’t miss for the world," Merry replied warmly as they made their way down the last few steps. "Your parents would be so proud."

Kaya’s gaze softened at the mention of her parents, but her expression didn’t falter. She turned toward Nami, who stood somewhat awkwardly nearby. "Nami, I love that dress on you."

"Thanks," Nami responded, though her tone was a bit stiffer than usual.

Kaya gently touched the fabric of the dress, her voice soft with nostalgia."It belonged to my mother. It was one of her favourites."

Nami's eyes widened, clearly caught off guard by the sentiment. She started to stumble over an apology, "Oh, I’m sorry. I —"

Kaya interrupted with a kind smile, shaking her head. "Not at all. I’m sure she would agree it suits you splendidly."

Y/N stepped in at that moment, smoothly saving Nami from the awkward tension. With a bright smile, she looked at Kaya. "That she does! And as for you, Kaya—you look absolutely wonderful. Like you just stepped out of a fairytale."

Kaya’s cheeks flushed lightly at the compliment, and she gave a shy smile. "Thank you, Y/N. You’re too kind."

"Nonsense," Y/N waved her hand, "just calling it like I see it. A beautiful dress for a beautiful girl and a beautiful evening, wouldn’t you agree?"

Kaya’s smile softened, clearly touched by Y/N's warmth, as Merry turned to tell Kaya something about the transfer of ownership of the shipyard. Meanwhile, Nami shot Y/N a grateful look, while Y/N simply gave a little playful shrug, as if to say, What can I say? It’s a gift.

"Merry, dear friend, it's always business with you," Klahadore cut in, his voice smooth but firm. Merry nodded, somewhat reluctantly, as if he'd been caught in the middle of a moment. Klahadore’s arm swept elegantly toward the dining room. "Tonight is about celebration. Shall we all move to the dining room?"

"Yes!" Luffy’s voice boomed across the room, his face lighting up with pure excitement. "Oh! Oh, I’m so ready for this!"

Y/N chuckled under her breath at Luffy’s enthusiasm, glancing sideways at Nami. "You’d think he’s never had a meal before."

As the group began to file into the elegantly decorated dining room, Y/N couldn't help but admire the lavish setup. The long table was adorned with pristine white linens and flickering candles, casting a warm glow over the room.

Soon, they were indulging in the delicious spread laid out before them. The table was a feast for the eyes, adorned with an array of vibrant dishes that seemed to dance with colour. Y/N couldn't help but let out a satisfied sigh as she took her first bite of a creamy pasta dish, the flavours bursting on her palate.

"I’d love to try the fish tonight," Kaya said, glancing at Sham, the maid, who was holding a platter of food.

But before she could reach for it, Klahadore interjected, "I’m sorry, Miss Kaya, but that is not possible."

Kaya’s smile faltered, and Y/N couldn’t help but frown at the butler’s sharp tone as she took a slow sip of her wine, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"Maybe just a small piece?" Kaya asked, her voice tinged with hope.

The butler remained unyielding, unlike earlier in the day. "Now, you know that certain foods can affect your constitution," he replied, gesturing for the plump butler to step forward. "Here, Buchi has prepared your special soup."

Kaya’s face fell, despite her attempts to hide her disappointment as the bland soup was placed in front of her.

"Kaya, it’s your birthday," Nami chimed in with a hint of irritation. "You should be able to enjoy whatever you like."

"Miss Kaya’s medical condition necessitates that I closely monitor her dietary needs," Klahadore responded curtly, addressing Nami as if she were overstepping.

Y/N’s brow furrowed as she leaned back in her chair, wine glass poised. Her tone was laced with mild sarcasm. "Ah, I see. So you manage her plate… and her voice now, too?"

Luffy, blissfully unaware of the awkwardness building at the table, raised his hand enthusiastically. "I’ll take her fish!"

"Luffy…" Y/N mumbled under her breath, shaking her head softly as if to reign in his bluntness.

Usopp, sensing the awkwardness, piped up nervously while shooting a wary glance at Klahadore. "Luffy, isn’t there something that you wanted to talk to Kaya about?"

"Oh, yes!" Luffy’s face lit up as he turned back to Kaya. "Usopp told me you own the whole shipyard!"

Kaya smiled warmly, correcting him gently. "Well, actually, my parents founded the shipyard. Merry’s been running the business since… well, since they passed," She gestured towards Merry, who lifted his glass in quiet acknowledgement.

"But all of that is about to change," Kaya added, her eyes flicking to Usopp with a soft, meaningful glance. "Tonight, at midnight, I’ll officially become the sole owner."

"Ah. Well, that’s great, because we want to buy a ship from you," Luffy announced, his grin wide and infectious.

Kaya raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "I see," she replied, her smile growing. "Usopp mentioned that you’re sailors."

"Nope, not sailors," Luffy corrected quickly, his grin widening. And before Y/N could stop him, he dropped the bombshell. "We’re pirates."

The room seemed to freeze. The air became thick with tension as Usopp nearly choked on his drink, sputtering. Every guest at the table turned to look at Luffy in stunned silence—none more exasperated than Nami, who shot him a look that screamed, Seriously?

Y/N let out a long, resigned sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. "This is going to be a disaster," she muttered, feeling the weight of impending chaos.

Zoro, unfazed, took a slow sip from his cup and muttered under his breath, "This ought to be good."

"Pirates?" Kaya echoed, her eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and intrigue.

"Yep!" Luffy replied with unrestrained enthusiasm, oblivious to the looks of Nami, Y/N, and Zoro. "We haven’t sailed together for long, but we’ve already defeated an evil clown, raided a Marine base, and taken down a captain with an axe for a hand."

Kaya’s smile widened as she turned to Usopp. "These sound a lot like your adventures, Usopp."

"Yeah, that’s…" Usopp chuckled nervously, stealing a glance at Luffy. "That’s crazy."

"Oh yeah. And we’re just getting started!" Luffy declared, suddenly seizing his wine glass. In an impulsive burst of enthusiasm, he hopped up onto the dining table, eliciting gasps of shock from the guests.

Klahadore’s face darkened with disapproval as he bristled at Luffy’s antics. "What on earth are you doing? Get down from there at once!"

But Luffy, undeterred and brimming with enthusiasm, continued to hold his glass high. "Being a pirate has been my dream for as long as I can remember, and now I’m finally making it a reality!" He stepped closer to Kaya, completely ignoring the bewildered looks from the guests. "We’re heading out to the Grand Line, where even more adventures await us. And at the end of the journey, I’m gonna find the ultimate treasure, the One Piece, and become King of the Pirates!" With a triumphant grin, he took a hearty sip of his wine, completely unfazed by the chaos he was stirring.

He stepped closer to Kaya, completely ignoring the bewildered looks from the rest. "We’re heading out to the Grand Line, where even more adventures await us. And at the end of the journey, I’m gonna find the ultimate treasure, the One Piece, and become King of the Pirates!" With a triumphant grin, he took a hearty sip of his wine, completely unfazed by the chaos he was stirring.

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle softly, shaking her head as she watched Luffy’s unyielding spirit shine through. "Well, at least he’s got ambition,"

Kaya gazed up at Luffy, wide-eyed. "You're serious?"

Luffy slammed back the remainder of his wine, then held out the empty glass to Klahadore, who sneered but reluctantly took it. Leaning closer to Kaya, Luffy gripped her shoulders with earnest enthusiasm. "Kaya, you have a beautiful ship out there—a caravel with a sheep figurehead. It spoke to me." Zoro and Nami exchanged exasperated glances, while Y/N couldn't help but stifle a laugh at the sheer audacity of it all.

"That’s the ship we need to follow our dreams," Luffy continued, his eyes shining with determination. "I promise you, we’ll take care of it. We’ll maintain it and treat it like any other member of our crew, because a ship is also a home."

"That will be quite enough!" Klahadore snapped, stepping in beside Kaya with an air of authority. "I should’ve known Usopp would bring riffraff to our doorstep."

"Klahadore, it’s okay. I..." Kaya began, trying to defuse the tension, but a sudden coughing fit interrupted her.

"Now look what you’ve done. You’ve upset Miss Kaya!" Klahadore accused, his irritation palpable. "All of you, out of this house at once!"

Kaya, ever the kind-hearted soul, shook her head weakly, managing to breathe out, "No. It’s late. Let them stay the night."

"As you wish, Miss Kaya," Klahadore relented, though his tone was less than pleased. He assisted her out of the chair and led her from the room, adding, "But they are out first thing in the morning."

"That went pretty well," Luffy remarked as the door clicked shut behind Klahadore, leaving the five of them in the cosy dimness of the room. "Don’t you think?"

Y/N hums before gulping down the rest of her wine. "sure"

Hours later, Y/N lay wide awake, her bladder full and demanding release. She couldn’t help but scoff at the absurdity of it all—a mansion this grand and yet no loo in her room?

Finally deciding to venture out, she crept down the hallway, but instead of finding a bathroom, she stumbled upon a certain orange-haired girl in a curious sight: Nami was stuffing shiny treasures into a pillowcase.

"What are you, the reverse Father Christmas?" Y/N quipped, leaning against the doorframe with a playful smirk.

Nami, startled by the sudden voice, whipped her head around, eyes wide. "Shit, Y/N! You scared me! What are you doing up?"

Y/N shrugged, crossing her arms casually. "You know, just on a midnight quest for a loo. But clearly, I found something far more interesting."

Nami huffed, returning to her task with quick hands. "I’m just borrowing. Besides, they’re not going to notice a few missing trinkets."

"Oh, so you’re playing the long game, huh? Borrow now, return... never?" Y/N raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes. "If you get caught, I’m not covering for you."

Nami shrugged, a cheeky grin spreading across her face as she continued to stuff the shiny trinkets into her pillowcase. "Who says I’ll get caught? I'm a master of stealth."

"Right, because sneaking around in the middle of the night with a pillowcase full of stolen goods is such a subtle move," Y/N teased, closing her door and following Nami.

Nami paused for a moment, glancing around to ensure they were still alone. "These are just sitting here collecting dust. No one will miss them."

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head in mock disbelief. "You do realize you’re robbing from a girl who just wanted to celebrate her birthday, right?"

"Details, details," Nami waved dismissively, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Besides, it’s not like I’m taking anything valuable… yet."

Y/N smirked, her curiosity piqued. "Okay, but you--"

They suddenly heard footsteps approaching, echoing through the vast halls of the house.

Nami’s eyes widened in panic as she quickly shut the cabinet door "Crap!"

“Quick, come on!” Y/N urged, pulling Nami toward the nearest door. She flung it open and they slipped inside a dark room.

Just as they were about to catch their breath and survey their surroundings, Kaya’s voice startled them.

“Y/N?… Nami?” The lights flicked on, illuminating the room.

Both girls gasped in surprise, and Nami hurriedly concealed the pillowcase behind her back.

“What are you two doing? Is everything okay?” Kaya asked, still unaware of their antics.

"Oh, Kaya!" Y/N exclaimed, feigning a chuckle. "Sorry to disturb your beauty sleep! This house is like a maze, and I couldn't find the loo. So naturally, I enlisted Nami's expert navigating skills, right, Nami?"

"Yeah, we just got a bit turned around," Nami added, trying to sound casual.

Kaya’s gaze drifted behind Nami, landing on the clearly bulging pillowcase. She raised an eyebrow, puzzled. "With a pillowcase?"

Feeling her cheeks heat up, Y/N pursed her lips in embarrassment.

"So… you really are pirates after all," Kaya said, rising from her bed. Her demeanour was calm, not angry or frightened.

"No," Y/N quickly denied.

"I hate pirates," Nami chimed in, her tone dripping with disdain. "But I am who I am," She declared, setting the pillowcase down defiantly. "And I won’t apologize for it."

Y/N pursed her lips and sighed, taking a seat on the window sofa. "Can’t put it much better than that."

Kaya let out a light chuckle as she settled beside Y/N. "To be honest, I find some of the decor to be a bit gaudy. I’d prefer to donate it to charity."

Nami bristled at that. "We’re not charity."

/N waved her hand dismissively. "Relax, Pumpkin. I’m sure she didn’t mean it that way, right?"

Kaya quickly shook her head. "No, of course not. I just think, what’s the point of having so much if you can’t share it with others? Like those in need—family... friends."

"So we’re friends now?" Nami asked, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Of course we are."

Nami turned to Y/N, motioning toward Kaya. "But she doesn't even know me!"

Kaya shrugs thoughtfully. "Usopp and Y/N do, and that’s a start.

Nami frowned slightly, but Y/N patted the space beside her with a playful grin. "Come on, Pumpkin, let's bond."

Nami rolled her eyes at Y/N's antics but eventually settled down next to her. "So what do we do now? Have a sleepover? Do each other’s makeup?"

Y/N smirked, leaning closer. "Only if you promise to let me go wild with the glitter. We can start with—" Y/N began, but was interrupted by Kaya's coughing.

"Kaya, are you okay?" Nami asked, concern etching her features.

Y/N placed a hand on Kaya's back. "Should I get you some water or something?"

Kaya stopped coughing and looked at the girls, shaking her head. "Not you too."

"What?" Y/N frowned in confusion, sharing a puzzled glance with Nami.

Kaya sighed. "Everyone’s so careful around me. Like one wrong move and I’ll break." She looked between the girls. "I don’t want your pity."

"Well, you won’t get it then," Nami said, with a small grin.

"No pity here, just friendship," Y/N shrugged, a teasing smile creeping onto her face. "And as friends, you ought to tell us what is going on between you and Usoppppp."

"Is he your boyfriend?" Nami grins.

"Oh. Um…" Kaya chuckled, glancing between the girls. "Usopp and I? No, no. We’ve known each other for years. Ever since his mother passed away, he didn’t have anyone, so my parents gave him a job at the shipyard." Her smile grew a little wider as she continued, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks. "He likes to come around and tell me all about his brave exploits and grand adventures. And the truth is, they make me feel better."

Y/N leaned in, a teasing grin on her face. "So, it’s like Usopp is your personal bard, spinning tales to lift your spirits? I can see how that’d be comforting."

Kaya chuckles, "After my parents... he was able to make me smile again."

"Your parents, what happened to them?" Nami asked, her voice softening.

Kaya’s eyes instantly glistened with unshed tears, and Y/N could see this was a sensitive subject. "They, um… They died at sea. After all these years, it still takes my breath away. I couldn’t even go through their belongings. Just… locked up the memories in the East Wing, where their bedroom was."

"I’m so sorry," Nami said softly, echoing Y/N's thoughts. She understood the weight of loss, grief, and the pain that lingered.

"Have you ever lost anyone close to you?" Kaya inquired, her gaze searching.

"No," Nami replied, her voice steady but filled with empathy.

Y/N paused for a moment, her heart heavy. "Yes," she said softly.

Y/N and Kaya shared a look of understanding, a silent acknowledgement of their shared pain. The bond of loss wove them closer together in that quiet moment, as they realized they were not alone in their experiences.

Kaya, after a moment of quiet, turned to Nami with a small smile. "Well, I’m jealous of you, Nami."

Nami scoffed, her eyebrow raised. "Said the rich girl."

Kaya chuckled at the response, shaking her head before looking directly at her. "You’re not very good at this friends thing, are you?"

Y/N grinned at the exchange, nudging Nami playfully. "She’s a tough nut to crack, but trust me, she’s definitely worth it."

The three of them shared a laugh, the tension lifting as they bonded in their own quirky way.

Kaya let out a soft yawn, clearly indicating how late it had gotten. Y/N smirked, her eyes glinting with playful amusement. "Need your beauty sleep, princess?"

Kaya chuckled lightly, shaking her head. "I suppose I do," she admitted, rubbing her eyes. "Though I’m not sure how much help it’ll be."

"Trust me," Y/N grinned, "you're already glowing."

Nami rolled her eyes, but even she smiled a little at Y/N’s cheeky comment. "We should get going though,"

Y/N stood up, stretching a bit before nodding. "That we should. I still need a loo."

Kaya chuckled, pointing down the hall. "Down the hall on the left."

As she made her way to her bed, Kaya added, "Why don’t you two join me for breakfast tomorrow? Your friends too. We can discuss a deal for the caravel."

"Yeah, that’ll be great." Y/N smiled, starting to walk away, but she paused when Nami spoke again.

"This may not be my place," Nami said, glancing back at Kaya, "but don’t let Klahadore or anyone run your life. You’re stronger than you think."

Kaya smiled softly at the sentiment. "I appreciate that."

"Good night, Nami, Y/N," she called out as she settled under her blankets.

"Good night," Nami replied with a small smile.

"Night, Kaya," Y/N added with a wink.

As they reached the door, Kaya called after them with a grin, "Don’t forget your pillow."

Nami took the pillowcase as she, Kaya and Y/N chuckled softly. Once they were outside the room, Nami halted and pulled something out of the pillowcase—a small box of some sort—and placed it on a nearby table. Y/N grinned at her, clearly amused.

Nami noticed the grin and rolled her eyes. "What?" she asked, her tone exasperated.

Y/N shrugged, still smiling. “Funny how a little girl talk can literally change people.”

“Shut up,” Nami muttered, giving Y/N a playful push. “Besides, Kaya’s just an exception.”

Y/N laughed, her teasing grin only growing wider. "Sure, pumpkin, whatever you say. How about you and I go for a midnight snack?"

"I could eat," Nami shrugs aimlessly.

"Right, you go find the kitchen while I find the loo because I'm about to explode," Y/N told the girls she was already on her way to the bathroom.

Nami shook her head with a smirk. “Alright, see you in the kitchen—if I don’t get lost first.”

"Shut up,"

After using the fancy loo, Y/N strolled into the kitchen, her usual playful grin in place. "Can you believe they have hyacinth-scented soap here? I mean, if you're going to steal something, might as well go for—"

Her words came to an abrupt halt when she noticed it wasn’t Nami in the kitchen. No, standing there were the butlers—Klahadore, Buchi, and the maid, Sham. And on the table, laid out unconscious, was Luffy.

Y/N's heart skipped a beat as she took in the scene. Klahadore turned slowly toward her, his expression cold and calculating.

“Well, it seems we have an unexpected guest,” Klahadore said with a chilling smile, the air growing tense.

"Shit," Y/N muttered under her breath, instinctively taking a step back. Her heart raced as she quickly realized she had walked straight into something dangerous. It didn’t take a genius to know the butlers were up to no good.

"Now, now," Klahadore cooed, "there’s no need to make a fuss."

"Too late for that," Y/N shot him a defiant look before bolting for the door.

However, Y/N didn’t make it far. Just as she turned to run, Klahadore seemed to teleport, appearing in front of her in an instant.

She gasped, heart pounding as she spun back around, desperate to escape. But before she could even take a step, a sharp blow struck the side of her head. Pain exploded behind her eyes, and everything went dark as her body crumpled to the floor.

The next time Y/N opened her eyes, the first thing she saw wasn’t Zoro’s concerned face but the dark, starry sky above. The cool night air hit her skin, and the faint sound of crickets chirping filled the quiet. She blinked, disoriented, before realizing she was lying on the cold, hard ground outside, near an old stone well.

"Oi, wake up," Zoro’s familiar gruff voice cut through the haze, accompanied by another tap, harder this time.

Y/N blinked and squinted, barely making out his face against the moonlit sky. “Zoro?” she muttered, trying to sit up.

“Yeah, it’s me. You good, or you need another nap?” he asked, crossing his arms, his expression unbothered but with a hint of concern in his eyes.

Y/N groaned as she sat up, feeling the cold stone of the well against her back. “Where are we?”

“Outside. Near the well behind the mansion. I found you knocked out cold.”

“Gee, thanks for stating the obvious,” she muttered, rubbing her temple. “What the hell happened?”

Zoro knelt down beside her, his tone growing more serious. “Klahadore isn’t just some butler. He’s Kuro—Captain Kuro of the Black Cat Pirates. That bastard’s been hiding out here, playing the good servant. That psycho’s got some plan involving Kaya-"

Y/N's heart raced as she shot up to her feet, ignoring the dizziness that washed over her. "Luffy—he was passed out! And Nami—she was supposed to be in the kitchen. They’re in there with those psychos. We have to go back!"

Zoro’s expression darkened as he drew one of his swords, the steely glint catching the moonlight. "Then let's go. No time to waste."

Despite the pounding in her head, Y/N steadied herself, determination fueling her. She nodded, and the two of them sprinted toward the mansion. The eerie quiet of the night only heightened the sense of urgency, their footsteps echoing against the cobblestone path.

As they neared the mansion, Y/N and Zoro began to hear voices, the two exchanged a glance as they crept closer, the voices becoming unmistakably clearer.

"Father always said, 'Dead pirate weighs the same as a live one,'" came the cocky, irritating voice that Y/N instantly recognized. Helmeppo.

"Garp gave us strict orders," a softer, more hesitant voice responded, trying to reason with him.

"He gave you strict orders," Helmeppo sneered as Y/N and Zoro finally reached the scene. Helmeppo stood there, holding a gun to Luffy, "Start walking, pirate, or die."

Zoro wasted no time. He was a blur of movement, taking out the two marines flanking Helmeppo with effortless precision. They hit the ground before they could even register what had happened.

As groans filled the air, Helmeppo and the kind boy Kobi she had met before turned to face Y/N and Zoro. The smug look on Helmeppo's face faded quickly when he saw them approach.

Y/N crossed her arms, a dangerous smirk tugging at her lips. "Gotta say, you picked the wrong night to be an idiot, Helmeppo. But then again, that's just who you are."

"Zoro! Y/N!" Luffy called out excitedly, as though he hadn’t been held at gunpoint just seconds earlier.

Zoro strode forward with his usual calm, while Y/N rushed to Luffy's side, giving Helmeppo a quick but satisfying punch that knocked him out cold.

"How’d you two know where to find me?" Luffy asked, a huge grin on his face.

"We didn’t, stud," Y/N replied, helping him up. "We thought we were headed to the house." Her nose scrunched up as she noticed the blue barf near Luffy and and instinctively wiped some goo from his face with her sleeve, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine now," Luffy smiled, his usual carefree attitude shining through as he began to make his way back to the house. "Come on!"

Y/N and Zoro exchanged a glance before following Luffy, but their steps were halted by Koby.

"Hold it right there!" he called, his voice firm. "By order of the Marines, I’m placing you under arrest."

"Koby…" Luffy took a step forward, a small grin creeping onto his face, but it quickly transformed into a more serious demeanor. "I know you’ve got a job to do… but I’m gonna go back and help my friends. So don’t try to stop me."

Koby hesitated, uncertainty flickering across his face as he looked at Luffy. It was clear he was torn between duty and friendship but he remained rooted to the spot, conflicted, as the three of them dashed into the shadows of the mansion, hearts racing and adrenaline pumping. They needed to save their friends, and nothing was going to stop them now.

When the trio reached the house, they quickly noticed the heavy metal covering the door, effectively barricading them from entering. Y/N felt a surge of frustration, but before she could voice it, Zoro stepped forward with a determined look in his eyes.

“Step aside,” he said. Zoro squared his stance, gripping the edge of the metal barrier. With a powerful grunt, he heaved against it with all his might.

To her astonishment, the metal slid upwards with a loud screech, revealing the entrance. Without hesitating, she quickly shoved a nearby statue beneath the opening to keep it in place and with a swift kick, she propelled the wooden door open, and it swung inward with a thud, revealing the interior of the mansion.

Luffy stepped inside, followed closely by Y/N and Zoro. The three of them paused in the foyer, taking in the surroundings. The air was thick with tension, shadows stretching across the walls as the faint light flickered from the ornate chandelier above.

“I need to grab my fans from my room,” Y/N said, her voice steady despite the tension in the air.

Luffy nodded, his determination unwavering. “Let’s split up.”

Zoro and Y/N exchanged glances before also nodding in agreement. Without wasting another moment, the trio took off in different directions. Luffy headed upstairs, while Zoro moved toward the kitchens, every step echoing with purpose. Y/N made her way to the guest wing, her heart racing as she recalled the location of her weapons.

As she dashed down the corridor, the silence of the mansion felt oppressive, every creak of the floorboards amplifying her anxiety. She finally reached her room and pushed the door open, relief flooding through her as she spotted her fans resting on the dresser.

“Got you!” she whispered to herself, snatching them up and flipping them open, the familiar weight comforting in her hands. With her weapons secured, she turned to leave, but a noise from the hallway caught her attention.

Holding her breath, Y/N peered out into the corridor, her war fans gripped tightly in her hands, poised defensively. The dim hallway stretched before her,

Holding her breath, Y/N peered out into the corridor, her war fans gripped tightly in her hands, poised defensively. The dim hallway stretched before her, shadows danced along the walls.

She scanned the area, her senses heightened, every creak echoing ominously in her ears. The silence felt almost tangible, pressing against her as she waited for any sign of movement. Just as she was about to step out, a creak from behind made her whip around.

Standing there was Bushi, the plump butler from earlier, draped in an absurd cat-like costume complete with a cape. His beady eyes gleamed in the low light, and a smirk spread across his face, giving him an almost sinister air.

"Of all designs, that's the one you chose?" Y/N scoffed, laughter bubbling up despite the tension.

Bushi smirked, revealing sharp canine-like teeth as he brandished two blades from behind his back. "It comes with perks,"

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a playful grin still on her face, but her stance was ready. “Perks, huh? I guess you must feel pretty fancy in that ugly getup." With a swift motion, she opened her war fan, the edges glinting ominously. “Shift it, mongrel.”

The butler lunged forward, and Y/N expertly sidestepped, feeling the rush of air as his blade sliced through the space she had just occupied. In one fluid motion, she spun around, bringing her war fan down with precision aimed at his wrist.

Bushi barely raised his other blade in time, the metallic clash ringing out as sparks flew from the impact. He grinned, lunging again, but Y/N ducked low, her fan cutting through the air as she aimed for his legs.

He jumped back, narrowly escaping. With a swift kick, Y/N drove him against the wall, the force of her strike causing him to grunt.

“You’ll pay for that!” he snarled, lunging at her with renewed ferocity. Y/N raised her fan just in time to block the incoming strike, their blades clashing once more.

Using the momentum, she pushed off his blade and leaped into the air, executing a graceful flip. As she landed, she swung the fan down toward him like a blade.

Bushi rolled out of the way, regaining his balance as Y/N charged again. He swung at her, but she ducked and sidestepped, moving with agility. She slashed at him, the fan cutting through the air, forcing him to backpedal.

As they danced around each other, the sound of metal on metal echoed through the hallway, tension thickening the air. Y/N felt the adrenaline surge, her instincts kicking in as she prepared for the next move.

Bushi lunged, but she pivoted, dodging and countering with a swift strike aimed at his midsection. He barely blocked it, gritting his teeth as they continued to clash, each movement fluid and aggressive.

Finally, Y/N saw an opening. With a quick flick of her wrist, she sent her fan spiraling toward his face, momentarily stunning him. In that split second, she charged forward, delivering a powerful kick that sent him crashing to the ground.

As Y/N caught her breath, she glanced around the dimly lit hallway, scanning for any additional threats. But before she could take a step, Bushi sprang back to his feet, eyes narrowed with determination.

“Not done yet!” he growled.

The butler lunged again, and Y/N met his charge with a swift deflection of her fan. The two danced around the narrow space of the staircase, trading blows as they fought against the railing.

Bushi swung his blades, forcing Y/N to duck and weave, her instincts sharp. She retaliated with a swift jab of her fan, catching him in the side. He stumbled, growling in frustration, but quickly regained his footing, the glint of his sharp canines reflecting the dim light.

Y/N could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins as she adjusted her stance, her fan poised for the next move. Bushi lunged again, blades slicing through the air, and she narrowly avoided the attack by pivoting to the side, the tips of his weapons barely grazing her. The narrowness of the staircase forced them into a tight rhythm, each movement calculated and precise.

Bushi spun low, attempting a sweeping strike at her legs. Y/N leapt back, her heart pounding, and then retaliated with a powerful jab of her fan into his shoulder. The impact sent him reeling against the railing, his balance faltering for just a moment.

Seizing the opportunity, Y/N launched forward, her movements fluid and fierce. With a well-aimed kick to his midsection, she sent him crashing through the railing. The sound of splintering wood echoed in the hallway as he plummeted down into the foyer below.

Y/N glanced down at the foyer, her eyes locking with Zoro, who had just dispatched the maid, Sham.

"Impressive finishing move," Zoro remarked, sheathing his swords with a casual air.

Y/N grinned, tilting her head in playful acknowledgment."What can I say? It’s hard not to show off when I’m surrounded by such unimpressive company. Now, let’s find something to restrain them with—preferably something more effective than their fashion choices."

Sooner rather than later, to Y/N's relief, Kaya, Nami, Usopp, and Luffy emerged from the upper levels, sporting only a few scratches but no serious injuries.

"Oh, thank the stars," Y/N exclaimed, her heart settling at the sight of them. "Looks like you all survived the thrilling experience of fighting off shit butlers and overly dramatic maids."

Zoro swung open the main door, allowing the bright morning light to flood into the dim foyer.

Nami rolled her eyes but there was a shinning in her eyes of relief and amusment. "You missed all the fun, Y/N."

"Fun?" Y/N raised an eyebrow, a teasing smirk on her lips. "You mean the kind of fun that comes with questionable service choices and bad manners?"

Both girls exchanged grins, a shared understanding passing between them.

“I’m sorry about the mess,” Zoro remarked to Kaya, his tone devoid of any regret. “You probably need some new staff.”

“I think I’m done with staff for a bit,” Kaya replied, her gaze lingering on her former cook and maid, now tied on the floor.

“Too bad we can’t collect their bounty,” Zoro sighed, arms crossed.

Nami jumped in, her frustration bubbling over. “No. No. The Marines already know where we are. We have to get out of here.”

Y/N pursed her lips, glancing around the room. “We don't have nowhere to go,"

"Nor a ship," Luffy added.

"Yes, you do." Kaya said, catching them all off guard.

The atmosphere shifted as the realization sank in, and grins spread across their faces. They knew she was about to gift them the very ship they had set out for—the one that had led them into this chaotic mess.

Y/N smirked at Luffy, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Congratulations, stud. Looks like you won the bet."

Luffy returned her smirk, his playful spirit shining through, before glancing at Nami, who rolled her eyes.

After everything that had transpired, the six of them stood before the ship, its elegant lamb bow glimmering in the sunlight.

"Wow," Luffy exclaimed, his eyes wide with awe. "That looks just like your lawyer friend."

Kaya smiled softly, nostalgia washing over her. "Merry ran the shipyard after my parents passed. He was their dearest colleague and my oldest companion."

"Then his memory will live on, "Luffy declared, "I hereby name this ship the Going Merry!"

Kaya smiled warmly, her eyes shining with pride. “It’s yours now. Your new home.”

“Thank you, Kaya,” Luffy replied, his voice full of genuine gratitude. Then, with a burst of energy, he thrust his fist into the air. “Whoo! Yeah! We did it!”

Without warning, Luffy leaped at Y/N, Nami, and Zoro, pulling them into a bone-crushing hug.

Y/N laughed, feeling the warmth of Luffy’s infectious happiness wash over her. “That we did!”

As they broke apart, no matter how hard she tried not to, Y/N couldn’t help but feel that this was only the beginning of something truly extraordinary or horrifying.

"Usopp!" Luffy suddenly called, causing everyone to turn their heads toward the boy.

Luffy approached him with that signature grin. "What are you waiting for? Get your stuff."

"What stuff?" Usopp asked, clearly confused.

"You’re coming with us. Right?" Luffy said with a grin that suggested he already knew the answer.

"What?" Usopp stammered. "Uh… uh… No. I… I couldn’t."

"Don't make him beg, champ," Y/N teased with a playful wink.

“I’m gonna need a great sharpshooter,” Luffy added, leaning in confidently. “Just like Yasopp. And I saw what you did back there--sticking up for your friends. That’s exactly the kind of guy I need on my crew.”

Usopp hesitated, his gaze flicking to Kaya. "But… I couldn’t leave Syrup Village. What… what about Kaya?" His voice wavered as he looked at her. "She needs me to take care of her."

Kaya stepped forward, her expression gentle. "Usopp, you’ve been a great friend," she said, taking his hand. "But I think it’s time I start taking care of myself."

"But I said I’d never leave you," Usopp protested, his frown deepening. "And don’t you need help with the shipyard?"

Nami, Y/N, and Zoro quietly made their way to stand beside Luffy, content to watch the moment unfold between Usopp and Kaya.

"The shipyard was my parents’ dream," Kaya said softly, her eyes warm as they met Usopp's. "I think I might do something different. Like study to become a doctor."

"So… I guess this is goodbye," Usopp said slowly, his voice tinged with sadness.

Kaya squeezed his hands, offering him a soft, encouraging smile. "I’ll see you again someday. And when I do, I expect to hear all about the real adventures of Captain Usopp."

Much to Usopp's surprise—and to no one else's—Kaya leaned in and kissed him. It was a tender moment, prompting the spectators to avert their eyes… except for Luffy, who frowned in confusion.

"They… they do know I’m the captain, right?"

Nami patted Luffy on the shoulder. "Let them have this one,"

Y/N grinned, nudging Luffy playfully. "Besides, you’ll get your moment, stud. Maybe with less kissing though, but who knows." she winks at him.

And just like that, they were out at sea again—this time, however, with a new friend and a real ship beneath their feet. The Going Merry cut through the waves with ease, her elegant lamb figurehead gleaming in the sunlight.

And then, they were out on the open sea again, this time with a new crewmate and a real ship beneath their feet. The Going Merry glided effortlessly over the waves, its lamb figurehead leading the way toward new adventures.

Y/N leaned against the railing, gazing out at the endless blue ocean. The sun warmed her skin while the salty breeze danced through her white hair, tousling it playfully. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, letting the serenity of the sea wash over her, giving her a sense of freedom she hadn’t felt in a long time.

A sudden shout nearly made Y/N jump out of her skin, snapping her attention to the bow of the ship. She couldn’t help but snicker as she spotted Luffy, perched at the top of the lamb’s head, waving his straw hat with pure joy. His wide grin was infectious, and the sight of him celebrating like a carefree kid brought a warmth to her chest.

He was so ridiculously happy, as if he’d just discovered the greatest treasure in the world, and for a second, Y/N envied his simplicity—his ability to find joy in the smallest things, no matter the chaos surrounding them.

Looking back at the ocean, a quiet hope took root inside her. This might actually work. The thought of reuniting with her sister felt closer than ever, and the mere possibility made her smile.

A lively melody echoed around the ship's gallery, and Y/N ran her fingers over the guitar strings, crafting an upbeat tune that danced with the rhythm of the waves.

In Syrup Village, where dreams took flight, Lived young Kaya, shining so bright. But Kuro the Cat, with a sinister crew, Plotted to take her, oh, what would they do?

Then we arrived, with laughter and cheer, “Don’t worry, dear Kaya! Your heroes are here!--”

"We did not arrive with laughter and cheer," Nami scoffs from beside Y/N, interrupting the ballad.

Y/N rolls her eyes, a playful grin on her face. "Shush, it rhymes! Besides, artistic license!"

Nami crossed her arms. "More like a disaster in the making."

"Focus on the song, not the flaws," Zoro mutters from her other side, his voice low yet steady.

Y/N scoffs at him, "Excuse me, but my ballad doesn't have any flaws."

Luffy, grinned wide as he ate some fruit. "I like it! Keep going!"

With a theatrical sigh, Y/N continued, her fingers dancing over the guitar strings.

“Thank you, brave souls!” Kaya smiled wide, “I’ve got a surprise—come take a ride!” With joy in her heart, she gave them the key, To the Going Merry, as grand as could be!

"And that’s the end of my masterpiece," Y/N said with a playful shrug, her grin wide.

Nami shook her head, unable to suppress her smile. "You're utterly ridiculous, you know that?"

“Ridiculously talented, you mean!” Luffy exclaimed, his enthusiasm infectious. He turned to Y/N, beaming. "Can you whip up one about each of us?"

"Only if the muse strikes me just right," Y/N replied.

“Guys! You’ve got to see this!” Usopp burst into the room, proudly draping a black mantle over his shoulders. “Behold my unparalleled artistic genius!” He positioned Luffy to hold the flag aloft. “Ta-da!” The flag showcased a cartoonish skull with exaggerated features reminiscent of Usopp himself.

Usopp chuckled at his creation, but the room fell into silence, the others unsure how to react.

“I know, I know,” he said, breaking the quiet. “My flair for design often leaves people speechless.”

Luffy, unfazed, closed the flag and handed it back to Usopp with a cheeky grin. "I already drew our flag."

"Okay, but this one is way cooler!" Usopp insisted, trying again.

Zoro interjected, his tone deadpan, "Neither of those flags are gonna scare anyone off."

"Well, the Jolly Roger is supposed to reflect the captain," Usopp argued, wrapping the flag around himself like a cape.

Luffy leaned in closer, a playful spark in his eyes. "I am the captain. We are the Straw Hat crew."

"They call me Captain Usopp!" Usopp declared dramatically.

"I’m the captain. Me, captain. Captain, me."

"The captain is the one who gets the ship and knows the most about sailing," Usopp countered, trying to hold his ground.

"I am…"

Their ridiculous bickering over who truly held the title of captain was so absurd that even Nami couldn’t help but chuckle. Y/N exchanged amused glances with her, and soon the whole crew was laughing along.

Luffy beamed as he patted Usopp on the back, his excitement radiating through the room. "You see? This is what it’s all about!" He leaned in closer, confidence oozing from him. "From now on, it’s all gonna be smooth sailing."

Just as his words hung in the air, a thunderous boom erupted from outside, causing everyone to exchange puzzled glances. Before they could react, another explosion shook the ship, this time sending a tremor beneath their feet.

"What was that?" Usopp asks as he holds into Luffy.

Y/N cursed under her breath, instinctively reaching for her weapons. "Cannonballs!

Nami set her drink down with a frustrated sigh, rising to her feet. "You had to open your mouth," she shot at Luffy, just as the sound of cannon fire rattled the ship again.

The crew scrambled outside, eyes widening as they took in the sight before them. A Marine ship just behind them, cannons poised and ready for another strike.

"Marines! We’re under attack!" Nami shouted, her voice laced with urgency as another cannonball soared perilously close.

Y/N felt a sense of dread wash over her, but what came next was entirely unexpected. Luffy, the boy who prided himself on being a pirate, who declared his dreams of becoming the King of the Pirates with fervor, said;

“Grandpa?”

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Lots of love. Be safe.

Also, tell me if you want to get tagged.

Divider by @cafekitsune

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swannieluv · 3 days

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖꩜ Wasted youth.

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Platonic!Ajax x GN!Reader

✦⸼࣪�� 𝐖𝐜: 11k

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆!!: violence, blood, death.

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐀/𝐍: IT'S FINALLY HERE! I hope everyone can enjoy this <3

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩. 𝐛𝐲 Tempo Perdido - Legião Urbana

✦⸼࣪⸳ likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated!! <3

Snezhnaya is not exactly a friendly nation. The cold that seems to run from the veins to the depths of people's innermost being brings with it a certain hostility towards those who don't know the heart of the land. But within Ajax's distorted childhood perception, Snezhnaya was like a gentle mother, protecting its children under icy embrace.

But then, why did such a loving land allow its own child to fall into the deepest depths of the Abyss? Like drowning in freezing water, a child who survived Teyvat's darkest and loneliest place would certainly not come out of it the same as he went in.

"Ajax" was still Ajax, wasn't he? The same child, named after a hero from ancient tales, full of compassion and empathy, now carried with him a gaze that was deader than the fish he caught on ice.

Joining the Fatui wasn't in his plans for the future; being one of them wasn't so bad, although he wasn't expecting much for the future. But what he didn't like was being the youngest in the unit, it was a complete humiliation.

Not that the seniors were a challenge for him, but being constantly underestimated was... infuriating, to say the least. While his strength was admirable — thanks to Skirk, he would thank her someday — Ajax felt constantly bored, with no meaningful challenge ahead of him.

"Redhead!" The call was accompanied by a snowball, which hit him square in the face; his moment of peace was interrupted, though it didn't really matter.

Ajax could only sigh before letting out a soundless laugh, knowing exactly who had hit him: [Name], a recruit not much older than him, maybe a year or so. Being under the same division, it wasn't unusual to bump into them. "Here it comes..."

They weren't exactly friends, more like acquaintances. However, they also kept in touch enough to be just "acquaintances". Never friends, perhaps not at all.

As if he had some kind of radar, [Name] always appeared whenever Ajax had his rare moment of philosophical thought of questionable quality. Usually to disrupt the whole process.

" Damn, looks like you really found me," he laughed, turning to look at them.

"That's the third time I've had to look for you this week," they complained, carefully preparing another snowball to throw at him. "I always get scolded because of you, you know that?"

They weren't exactly wrong. Whenever Ajax wandered off the map, it was [Name] who had to look for him in the frozen woods. Not that they really bothered to do it, but it was tiring going around in circles until they found him.

"Look at it as part of your job."

"Babysitting...?"

"No, looking after your companions."

"... How idiotic."

"How heroic. It's very noble to look after your friends, you know?" Ajax corrected. His eyes returned to scanning the surrounding trees in a relaxed manner.

"Not when said 'friends' get into trouble all the time," they retorted.

"I always come back, it's not like you need to hunt me down like I'm some criminal on the loose." He shook his head briskly, brushing the snow off the top of his hair. However, he was greeted with another sharp shot right to the scalp.

"Look... So, all due respect, but you're not far off being one, you know?" they shyly replied. Not in a rude way, but still a little offensive to whoever it was directed at.

He didn't know whether to laugh or feel offended by what they said. Maybe both? Well, they weren't exactly wrong... Ajax was already considered a marginal project, or at least it seemed that way.

"Why did you do that?"

"What? You have to specify or I won't know,” his smile fell, replaced by a neutral expression. He tried to feign ignorance, but it didn't work very well.

"Don't be cynical. You beat up an older soldier. Aren't you a little ashamed?”

Which soldier were they talking about? It didn't matter to him anyway, as he'd lost count of how many he'd challenged and won — it wasn't a difficult task, they were never a match for him.

All too often they were weak, and [Name] was the worst of them all. That's why Ajax didn't even bother trying when inviting them to a duel, because the result was obvious from the start. The last time they sparred, it was be boring, easy and not worth the effort.

"Should I be? If a soldier almost two meters tall can't beat up a 14—year—old, then that means he's a weakling, doesn't it?" Ajax crossed his arms. "Besides, he called me names before, so we're even."

"Seriously..." they sighed, "Seriously, try not to make such a fuss. The Fifth can get you out of most trouble, only until you do something, let's say, really catastrophic."

"Something catastrophic like...?" he asked curiously, his gaze fixed on them.

"Like... burning down the Zapolyarny palace?"

His jaw dropped in shock, and a touch of offense showed on his cold—pink face. That was the most absurd thing he had heard in recent times. "What?! Why do you think I would do something like that?"

"Because it's you we're talking about, redhead."

"What's with the nickname?"

"I think it's funny, don't you?"

"You know... whatever." Ajax put his hands on his waist, shaking his head slightly. "I'll take that as an excuse to put a nickname on you too."

"So you're going to stop with the ' comrade' thing and come up with something even worse? Really?"

"Maybe so... maybe not. Who knows?"

The boy gave a relaxed smile, patting them on the shoulder before moving on. His heavy footsteps in the snow served as a background noise to the uneasy silence around them.

"I found it."

"Hm? Found what?" Ajax raised an eyebrow in suspicion.

[Name] pulled out a red scarf, so familiar to Ajax, from inside their backpack, carefully tying it around his neck. The fabric was warm, or perhaps it was the feeling of zeal, or also the nostalgia it brought.

Ajax hadn't realized he had left it behind. And when he realized it, the difference between the cold air and the protection of the scarf was remarkable — was he so distracted that he didn't notice?

The boy's gloved hands touched the soft fabric of the scarf, bringing it closer to his face and snuggling into the warmth. "Where did you find it, comrade?"

" Somewhere, it doesn't matter." They put their hands in the pockets, looking around at the landscape around them. "Aren't you afraid of getting lost in the forest?"

Ajax let out a genuine laugh when he heard their question, as if it were something ridiculous. "Getting lost? I know my way around pretty well."

[Name] narrowed their eyes, firmly disbelieving Ajax's words. For them, the scenery remained the same, no matter how far they went — well, they didn't go very far at all.

"What? It's all the same, like... just trees and snow everywhere."

Ajax held back a laugh, as if what they'd said was completely dumb. "You're not from Snezhnaya, right?"

"Is it that obvious?"

"Were you trying to hide it at all?" He couldn't help but laugh at the redness that appeared on [Name]'s face.

They were almost the scarlet color of their vision, which they proudly carried on a chain attached to their jacket. Pyro and Hydro, it was yet another thing that made them so opposite from each other.

"You know what, never mind! Just follow me." They extended a hand towards him, an almost forced offer.

Ajax hesitated, staring at the hand in front of him for a few long seconds before accepting it. He held it with some hesitation, not wanting to apply more force than he should have. He didn't mean to hurt, but he also had moments when he couldn't control his own strength.

They walked together through the snow, their steps in perfect sync. He noticed these small details as he looked down at the ground, thinking over and over again about an endless cycle. Sometimes, he just let that little silence take over his head, alone without direction, lost in the image of his own breath coming in the form of fog.

[Name] mumbled something, Ajax nodded, but forgot all about it soon after. They knew he wasn't paying attention, but didn't care, increasing the strength with which they held his hand.

"You don't like it here? Is that why you keep running away?"

"It's not running away if you come back.”

[Name] genuinely felt like punching Ajax in the face every time he opened his mouth and let out some stupid reason like this, but they would obviously leave it to imagination. The willingness wasn't lacking, but the courage was.

Perhaps if they were stronger, braver, they could say what they really wanted. But they weren't, and that kept them behind a fine line between the two, where Ajax always seemed to be in the front.

Everything in Snezhnaya, absolutely everything, filled them with an internal revolt. The cold that seemed to freeze them inside, the infinitely same path that seemed to lead nowhere, not being taken seriously — but for now, they would do anything to please those on top, especially since they were the ones in control of everything anyway.

"Don't ignore my question, go on. I know you heard me."

As soon as they arrived at the camp, they were greeted by an angry soldier with a large purple eye. That was the man Ajax had hit, and clearly he didn't look happy.

"Look, the bastard's really back," he said sarcastically, snapping his fingers. "Are you going to come at me for no reason like a savage again, like you did earlier?"

"Liar," they retorted, shaking their heads in denial and pointing a finger at the soldier, "you previously morally attacked Ajax, an exemplary boy..."

Ajax nodded, crossing his arms. Exemplary was by far what he was, but he had to agree with those who defended him. What he didn't expect was that they would retract their words soon after.

"...sort of."

"A... gentle boy?" They gave him a sideways glance, as if for confirmation; all he got back was a slight shake of the head.

"sort of..."

There was a lack of good adjectives to describe what he was — what he had become.

It would be less work if they just called him strong, but they didn't. They didn't want to reduce him to something. They didn't seem to want to reduce him to something the soldier in front of them already knew. Or rather, they didn't want to reduce Ajax to a simple strong boy.

They cleared their throats with a smile, grabbing Ajax by the collar, "Give us a second!"

Honestly, he was expecting a beating, not a strategy meeting behind a bush — not that he was going to complain, but at least he was hoping for a fight or something. His clenched fists contained the real desire to punch that soldier right in the face, but unfortunately he couldn't do that.

"'Sort of', really?" Ajax mimicked with a playful tone.

They rolled their eyes, fidgeting. "One of two ways: either I lie by calling you dumb, or I lie by calling you stupid!"

His jaw dropped for a moment. Was Ajax that stupid in their eyes? Not that he was the most self—controlled or straightforward person, but that dumb was an insult. "Oh, but I'm not dumb!"

"Perfect! Then you're stupid!"

The two of them stared at each other for what seemed like hours. Just as they didn't understand him, Ajax didn't understand them one bit.

"Seriously, I'm trying to help you... but then you have to help me help you."

"I think you've got it wrong. I appreciate the attempt, not to be rude... but I don't think I asked you to help me in the first place." He tried to smooth it over somehow, with that annoying little smile of his.

They felt their eyes ticking just hearing him, but soon pulled themselves together and returned the smile with a sarcastic tone intertwined with the words, "Really?”

"Mhm!" Ajax smiled. "Then I'm going for it, you said!"

Ajax ran off, abandoning them behind the bush to do whatever he wanted. Training, fighting, getting into another fight... it was all very unpredictable when it came to someone as peculiar as Ajax.

[Name] stood there, letting out a sigh as he thought about how weird this boy was. But there was no denying that Ajax was truly exceptional at getting out of trouble, and that made them more and more curious about him.

Sometimes, before going to sleep, Ajax would close his eyes and think about the day he'd had. He would ponder how small details were so easily erased — he couldn't remember who accompanied him on the march, or the name of the guy he had hit. But it was okay, it was fine not to remember.

The important thing was to keep going, without wasting time, and to move on. Ajax didn't need anything else, or anyone else, just himself to become very strong.

"Here you go, redhead." He was called by [Name], who threw a pillow right in his face.

" Man, you really like throwing things at me, don't you?" complained, pulling the pillow away from his face, "Have I become a punching bag now?"

"You forgot your pillow. If you wake up with a stiff neck, you'll be complaining in my ear all day tomorrow."

"I don't complain—"

"You think you don't, but you nag like an old man!"

Ajax threw himself backwards, lying on the mattress hugging the pillow close to his face. He muttered irritably to himself something almost inaudible, something that [Name] could only wish weren't curses in their direction.

"Look, I don't know what kind of problem you have," Ajax began, rolling his eyes in frustration, but soon changed his tone to something more playful, "if you want to settle something with me, come fight. Unless you're too much of a chicken not to fight someone younger and stronger than you."

"Whatever" [name] grumbled as they adjusted the flame of the lamp with their vision, "I already know I have zero percent chance against someone like... you."

"Why, comrade? It's not like I'm going to kill anyone in sight or anything like that." He smiled, giving a slight chuckle.

"Yes, of course, and I'm a slime" [name] sarcastically answered.

"Honestly, I don't mean to offend you or anything..." Ajax sat up, running a light hand through his hair to remove it from his face. "But I really wonder how someone so coward got into Fatui. I mean, you're afraid to even hold your own bow."

[Name] listened attentively to his words, but kept their gaze fixed on the lamp in her hands. It was the only source of warmth between them at the moment, and they couldn't let it go out so soon.

"The reason I'm in Fatui..." Their eyes did not leave the flame in hand, carefully observing the orange color that reflected on everything around him. [Name] avoided this question whenever it was asked, because they knew they weren't strong, and didn't force themselves to be, but the truth was too shameful.

"I believe I am indebted to Her Royal Highness the Tsaritsa. I must render my services for her generosity, and also... for this little thing here, which has guaranteed me everything I have now."

They picked it up and swung it around, the vibrant red gemstone seeming to emanate heat in a veritable mirage. Even though the temperature was almost below zero, it still retained its tiny hints of flame.

"Well, I guess that's it. I was born like anyone else, subject to mistakes and defects. But I don't think I'm worthless, after all..." they paused for a single second, letting out a sigh before continuing, "even doormats have their uses."

Ajax's face softened as he listened to them. He was speechless, sincerely mute without an answer to their words. No silly comment came to mind, just nothing. He waited a while in silence before finally asking: "Wow, that was something..."

"I think we've talked enough about me, what about you?" They asked with a little smile, and Ajax relaxed a little.

"About me? Hm... I think I have several stories! Like today when I punched that guy!" he cheered, throwing a fake punch in the air to represent his fight.

[Name] let out a simple laugh, amused by his actions. They thought the boy was a piece of work, silly but very funny; also very intriguing in every respect. At fourteen, joining the Fatui and doing well was something out of this world from everyone else's perspective.

"No, silly! I don't care about that sort of thing." They shook their heads in denial.

Ajax blinked twice, confusion clear on his face. "What...? So what do you want to know, anyway?"

They patted his head lightly, making Ajax turn as red as a tomato. It was unexpected, and he didn't know how to react to it, he wasn't prepared, but it wasn't that bad either. For the first time in a long time, Ajax allowed himself to receive a bit of care.

"Tell me, redhead," they called him by that silly nickname again, getting a funny look from him, "do you miss home at all?"

"Homesick? Hm... I don't know, I don't think so."

"Lying to yourself is always the worst kind of lie, so don't do this."

"If I really miss home..."

Home. Did Ajax really miss home? It was very hard for them to guess what was going through his head when all he did was fight and cause trouble. Although he had his ridiculous faults, there was still a gentle child inside, deep down.

Ajax was about to answer when it finally hit. It was the kind of question that nobody really asked in the Fatui. Everyone usually acted in accordance with their situation, there was no room in the Camp for whining.

The only tears were those that were left on the pillow, turned upside down as soon as the first rays of sun appeared in the morning. Hidden, sealed away from the gaze of others, while everything continued in the shadows.

He remembered perfectly the day he left home, beginning his career as a soldier.

Ajax checked his appearance one last time in the mirror. He didn't mind the state he was in, with a few scars on his hands and small scratches on his face from the mess that had occurred before he was enlisted — but he couldn't look relaxed either, Ajax needed to look presentable for some reason.

He could hear some whispering, not so quiet, of children behind him. He could see their reflections, curious as ever, but pretended not to have noticed, not wanting to end their failed attempt at spying.

When the clock finally struck a certain time, he knew it was time to go. Ajax had been preparing since the day before, when he received the news. It hadn't been easy to accept, but Ajax had no voice after everything he had done.

It was easy to feel the blood on his hands, even though he had washed them over and over again. While his combat skills were fascinating, it was frightening to see how easy it was to seriously hurt someone.

But at the same time, he felt the adrenaline of fighting pulsing through his veins, bringing with it an insatiable desire for battle. He didn't have a strong enemy, he didn't have anyone who could challenge his skills in this little corner of the world he lived in. Being the strongest shouldn't be so boring, at least not for him.

When he stepped out of his room, the first thing he saw were his little siblings. Their faces were full of questions, asking for an answer as to where he was going, why he was leaving and other questions that Ajax wasn't allowed to answer, nor was he in the mood to answer them.

This was what he really dreaded, the farewell.

He hugged each sibling as if it was the last time seeing them, his eyes filled with anguish disguised as emotion and tears that weren't exactly shed. He felt a knot down his throat — how hard it was to try and keep a smile, with such a conflicted feeling in his chest.

Perhaps that was the hardest part, because the younger ones had no idea where their older brother would end up. They didn't know that he was going where no other child should go. The only excuse he could come up with was something about a fantastic toy factory, and they bought it.

He swallowed it all, keeping his typical charisma in a comforting smile. Blindly lying to himself that all that was to come was just a distraction where he could meet stronger people, bigger obstacles and climb them without hesitation.

He ran down the stairs as if it was the last time, and it would be, because long gone was the boy who once smiled here. Hearing the children's voices saying casual goodbyes, as if it were just another ordinary day and that he would be back soon. Touching the banister, sliding along and feeling the texture of the wood, brought a little sadness. It was full of scratches and loose splinters, just the way he would remember it.

Taking a deep breath, he let the smell of wax invade his lungs for one last time. Little did he know, but this would become another moment for nostalgia in just a few days.

He hesitated to leave that warm place, so precious and cozy that it was the only thing capable of bringing a tear to his eyes after leaving the abyss. Not all things in life work out the way we want them to, and he needed to learn that, if only in the harshest way possible.

"Discipline" was what it was supposed to be, a form of punishment for all the trouble he had made. Like a staircase, Ajax climbed step by step in his acts of violence until he reached the irreversible point of his insatiable hunger for battle

But life always takes its toll. And for Ajax, life decided to give, demand and take away almost instantly.

Saying goodbye to his mother, who wrapped a red wool scarf around his neck, Ajax could only keep smiling. If it hadn't been for the hesitation and worry in her eyes, distressed that her young son would end up in a place like the Fatui, everything would have been so much easier.

"My little warrior," she called him, a cheesy nickname that suited the wild boy perfectly. While it was ironic in the past, given that Ajax was a big scaredy—cat, today it was just dumb, "Don't cause too much trouble... please."

The last sentence came in the form of a very faint whisper, which went almost unnoticed by Ajax. A real plea, almost desperate because of the lack of credibility he had at that moment. She didn't believe in him, evident in the exacerbated concern she showed in her mannerisms.

And if to comfort her, then Ajax was willing to put on his best and most convincing cheerful mask. He had always been a boy who loved his family, and that was something that not even the claws of the Abyss could take away from him.

"Yes, Mom."

Ajax did his best not to sound the least bit false when lying to his mother — He was, he couldn't deny that — But at least Ajax did it convincingly until he could gently slip away from her gentle touch.

"I'll take care of myself. Brush my teeth, comb my hair..."

"And eat well," she added, brushing the dirt off his clothes, making him more presentable.

"...And eat well, leave it to me!"

The woman sighed, letting go of the boy. With her watery eyes turned to the side, she shook her head as if to pretend that everything was fine — an attempt to make it clear that everything was all right, that Ajax shouldn't worry. But in the end, it was to comfort herself.

"Go..." she murmured with a sad smile, shaking her face slightly to let the tears go where they shouldn't, "go with your father before you're late, and don't stir up trouble, see? Your poor mother's heart wouldn't be able to handle it."

"I'll do my best, stay super strong and—"

He was interrupted by a small smack on the head from his father; it wasn't painful, not in the slightest... but it hurt for some reason, somewhere deep inside. All he did was look up, shrug and smile as usual.

"Let's go." That was the call Ajax had been waiting for to.

This was a moment of farewell, but he remembered that it wasn't eternal. Someday, he would return home with his chest puffed out and a huge, proud smile on his face — well, that's what he hoped for.

And so, the troublemaker set foot outside his home to become what no one, not even he, expected him to be one day. Looking back at his past, his younger self, fearful and innocent, disappointed but admiring, came to mind.

An icy breeze was the first thing that greeted Ajax when he opened the door and encountered the standard whiteness of the outside scenery. It was sudden, as if to extract any remnants of warmth he felt. People would say it was a good omen coming from the Tsaritsa, a sign of good fortune on his new path.

And it's what Ajax would like to believe.

"Ajax?"

Their voice woke him from his memories, bringing him back to reality. And then suddenly, he was back in that tiny tent, the one he had never left.

"Sorry. I spaced out, didn't I?" He covered his eyes with his forearm, tiredness was starting to set in.

"Just a little bit." [Name] decided to lie down too, covering themselves with their own blanket. Their hands then went to the lamp, offering it to him, "Can you use your vision to put it out?"

"Can't we just... not put out the fire?" Ajax asked weakly.

[Name] blinked twice in surprise, then cracked a smile to tease him. "What's the matter, are you afraid—"

"No, I'm not afraid of the dark..." he cut them off in mid—sentence, turning around so that he wasn't facing them. With his face covered by the pillow, Ajax lowered his voice. "But leave the fire burning, just for now... please."

It was the first time [Name] had seen him so vulnerable, with his guard down. With such a sincere request, they were at a loss for words — even though they really wanted to understand.

"Right..." They hesitated slightly as they released the lamp. "Sweet dreams, Ajax."

Without replying, they sighed. [Name] then put their head on the pillow, looking at him with a certain empathy. But then again, it was none of their business; he would tell them when he felt comfortable.

That night would be a long one, with the two of them lying awake without exchanging a single word.

Sometimes [Name] questioned their own common sense, especially when they followed Ajax's foolish ideas. Normally, the two of them would get into trouble and be forced to do the daily tasks because of it.

But after days of insistence on his part, they had finally agreed to go ice fishing in the middle of the night because it was the only free time the both had. Did they know how to fish? No, and certainly not on ice, but there's a first time for everything.

"Hm... I don't see anyone," Ajax whispered as he looked through a gap in the tent, making sure no one was awake at this hour.

"Hang on, I can't put these on!" [Name] tried to put their boots on, but couldn't make a decent knot. They were already frustrated, tying them any way and untying them when they realized it didn't lead anywhere.

Ajax let out a chuckle, their desperation to put on simple boots was utterly comical, "Let me help you."

"I can do it myself!" [Name] stared at the tangled shoelace with a certain determination, trying to undo what they had tied.

"You said that last week, yet you couldn't do it and we lost the training—"

[Name]'s face heated up in embarrassment. What he said was true, the two of them had missed it, all because they didn't know how to put on the boots offered with the new uniform, and had to clean the weapons as punishment — not that Ajax cared, it seemed he had only focused on admiring the swords and guns rather than cleaning them.

"Shh! That's in the past!" they tried to shut him up.

Ajax shook his head slightly. He knelt down and stared at the blind knot they had tied, taking his hands to the shoelaces to straighten out the mess. "I'll teach you, check it out."

He carefully tied their shoes, making a firm loop. It was just like at home, when he helped his younger siblings put on their boots to play outside. When recalling this, an unconscious smile appeared on Ajax's lips, followed by a giggle.

"Are you laughing at me?" [name] asked, offended.

"No—" Ajax looked up, and then laughed, seeing the funny look they were making. "Yes, I am now!"

[Name] grabbed him by the cheek, hurrying him out of the tent with them. "Stop laughing, they'll wake up and it'll be our doom!"

"All right, all right!" Ajax exclaimed, removing their hand from his sore cheek. "You talk just like my mother when she scolds me..."

[Name] looked at him, smiling before teasing him. "No way, I mean, I pity your mother for having to put up with a son like you."

Ajax's frowned, he really did look offended by what they had said. "I have no idea what you're talking about, I've always been a very well—behaved child!"

"Oh, sure... if you say so, who am I to doubt it?" they agreed sarcastically. There wasn't a shred of confidence in his word.

There were endless minutes of walking and exchanging small insults. Under the moonlight, the two made their way calmly, getting further and further away from the camp. If they were lucky, no one would find out that they had run away.

They would be fishing in a frozen lake, a large mirror that reflected the light of an aurora. It was a breathtaking sight, as if they could touch the sky, and they took a cautious first step onto the it.

"Damn!" They slipped, having only the instinct to hold on to something.

"Whoa! Watch it there, comrade!" Ajax helped them regain their balance, holding them up by the arms. He took slow steps backwards so that [Name] wouldn't slip again.

[Name] smiled a little awkwardly, embarrassed. "Thanks but... This ice won't break with us on it, right?"

Ajax shook his head and firmly tapped his foot on the frozen surface, which remained intact. "It's pretty sturdy, see?"

"I see." [Name] turned their attention upwards and admired the greenish glow again. " Snezhnaya's night sky is a fascinating sight, isn't it? Even though I've seen it several times, I'm always amazed by its beauty..."

Ajax had already seen the real starry sky, the true and uncovered light of the celestial bodies. To refer to this gloomy canvas as a "fascinating sight" is an absurd statement, for it is only an empty imitation of what lies beneath the veil of the Abyss.

"You're really satisfied with anything, huh?" Ajax scoffed, with a hint of a smile on his face, "It's just floating lights, it gets boring after a while."

"Is there anything that doesn't get boring for you?" [Name] watched as Ajax started to cut the ice in a circular pattern, which appeared to be a not too difficult job for him. "Are you sure this works? I mean, it's just ice... I don't know if there's anything alive down there."

Ajax sat, eyes fixed on the hole in front of them. He hugged his knees and remained there, staring at the immensity and waiting for what would happen next. "Don't worry, we'll catch one in... a few minutes, I think."

"In about how many minutes, exactly?"

Ajax looked up thoughtfully. "A few."

"I swear to the archons, if you made us come here for nothing..." [Name] grumbled, watching the boy next to them. The way he insisted on his ideas impressed them, at the same time as it irritates; but seeing that serene face made them let out a little laugh, "Never mind, I'm the idiot one for following you."

[Name] sat down next to him, resting their face in one hand as Ajax and them waited patiently. Those moments of serenity were the complete opposite from the battles that took place everyday.

They had already seen several "comrades" fall, their lives taken while protecting the Fatui's interests. Interests that were unknown and hidden from the vast majority, concealed by individuals whose faces were unknown to many.

The Harbingers themselves were a kind of urban legends who, while everyone knew of their existence, were enigmatic and symbolic figures within the organization.

"What exactly are we fighting for?" [name] asked. There wasn't exactly a reason, because no one ever said the real purpose of the blood shed on the snowy battlefield.

Everyone's admiration and fear of the Harbingers was obvious. But just as they were feared, the kind of people whose presence is everywhere, there were more questions than answers as to their real motivation.

The closest they had seen was the Fifth, Pulcinella. [Name] didn't understand why they had been placed in his division, being a complete fool who couldn't hold a weapon without getting nervous. Even more so when, in the same division, there was Ajax.

A confused expression appeared on Ajax's face when he heard the question. Wasn't the answer obvious? At least, it was logical. "For Her Royal Highness, the Tsaritsa—"

"No, I know that. I'm talking about why we need to fight, the purpose of it all... We have a mission in a few days, and we don't even know what they want from us."

"I fight because I'm strong, isn't that enough?" Ajax seemed genuine in his response, with no hidden ambitions behind the battles he fought against his opponents. At the end of the day, it seemed to be all about the will to get stronger and better.

"No, it's not." [Name]'s gaze was serious, demanding an answer that would satisfy their curiosity. For them, Ajax was an extremely difficult puzzle to solve — a young boy who possessed the strength of a monster. But at the same time, had a heart as pure as gold. "Your name... was inspired by a hero, right? Do you want to be like them, the hero of the story?"

Ajax nodded, giving them a smirk. He remembered the old days, when he wasn't the least bit brave or powerful, just a fearful boy with a sword and a dream. "I think I'd rather be myself. It's much more fun when you do things your own way, don't you agree?"

"Well... it is, it really is." [Name]'s firm gaze softened. "Ajax, what do you want to be when you grow up?"

The boy froze in place. His mouth opened to speak, but the words he wanted to say didn't come out. He had no answer, even if he thought about it — Ajax simply didn't know.

"When I grow up..." he repeated to himself, looking for an answer, any answer. "I honestly don't know... I think I'll end up having to stay in Fatui."

"Idiot..." [name] grumbled, "I'm not saying you can't do what you want, but let's be honest with ourselves for a moment. Who would willingly stay in this hellhole?"

"Me," Ajax answered immediately, without a hint of hesitation in his speech, "If I go back home, I'll only make more trouble. Just the fact that I'm here makes life easier for everyone, and I can improve my skills."

"Of course you'd say that." They shook their heads, completely disapproving of his choice. They got up from where they sat, offering him a glance. "I envy you, you know that?"

"Hm? You..." Ajax looked up and pointed at them, then at himself. "...envy someone like me?"

"How can I not? You're strong, hopeful, stubborn and very proud," [name] listed, raising a finger for each adjective they found to describe him. "How can I not envy someone like you? You're like..."

"Everything I've always dreamed of being like."

They both uttered the same sentence at the same time, their voices becoming a unison sound that gave way to an awkward silence between them. Their eyes seemed to pierce each other, staring into the depths of the souls in search of some understanding.

"Trust me, I know what it's like," Ajax sighed, "to want to be braver, but at the same time to be too afraid of doing so."

Ajax turned his gaze back to the freezing water. Its darkness brought back vague memories of the abyss. The simple act of fishing was enough to push Ajax's mind back to the past, when he listened to his father's stories — maybe, just maybe, he really wanted to be as great as the heroes in them.

Ajax had once been a poor, fearful boy, terrified of the world outside, but with a spirit hungry for adventure. He had only a shortsword and a bag of bread — anyone could say that it was at that moment, before his fall into the confines of Teyvat, that Ajax began his transformation into what he's now.

"It's not a story I tell anyone, but I used to be a real coward," he admitted, letting out a sigh. "If one day you get stronger... like I did, would you duel with me?"

"Of course..." they smiled, making an x with their arms. "Not!"

Ajax's expression fell, replaced by that of an abandoned puppy. "But why?"

[Name] laughed at his face, crossing their arms. "Don't you remember when we first met?"

For them, the events that led to their current situation were clear as day. From before their enlistment, to the first day in the division.

They were born into a humble family, without any kind of comfort or privilege. [Name] grew up hearing all the stories about the archons and their extraordinary feats, about how lucky those who gained visions were. However, they never understood why their family admired such deities when all they received was misery.

Their parents, in a desperate act, borrowed a large amount of money, which they couldn't pay back. Disaster would be the appropriate word to describe what happened when the deadline for repaying these debts passed. As they were unable to pay, the two were killed by the debt collectors.

But [Name] always had somewhat of a way with their words, and that was the weapon they used to survive in a world like this. Somehow, they managed to negotiate their lives, in exchange for serving in the Fatui army instead of paying off an endless quantity of mora.

And shortly afterwards, [Name] were taken to the Cryo nation, landing in the middle of a terrible blizzard. If it hadn't been for the pyro vision they carried in their hands, [Name] wouldn't be alive to tell the tale, having become an ice statue.

And it was in an old and spacious office where [Name] took their first step towards their new reality. Quite nervously, their hands firmly held a document with all the information about their new career, leaving crumpled marks on its edges. [Name] had never thought they'd be offered to properly work, especially when the job was with none other than Fatui.

They were facing a short, stoic Fatui agent with a big nose and glasses. He seemed like a friendly fellow, but [Name] knew better than to trust someone who worked for those who had killed their family.

"What's your name, child?" asked the man in front of them, as he typed on a typewriter.

They had never seen anything like this, a machine that wrote for people? Unthinkable, it seemed magical, even. [Name] was so glued to it that, for a second, they forgot to answer.

"It's... [Name], that's all. I don't have a last name..."

The agent stopped his notes, giving [Name] a skeptical look. It was enough to make them nervous, unconsciously taking a small step backwards, lowering their head.

"Answer me..." The man went back to typing. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"No, sir. I'm from far away..." they sighed, murmuring, "very, very far...."

"Are you sure you'd like to join Fatui? You're still too young, don't you think it's a big responsibility?"

The agent gave them a gentle smile, different from the look he had given them before. It was as if he was truly giving [Name] a choice — but the truth was, if they didn't accept it, they would probably end up in the same shallow grave as their parents.

"Forgive me, sir, but it's not a question of wanting, it's a question of needing," they replied calmly, "someone has to pay these debts, right? Mora doesn't grow on trees."

[Name] wondered if they had said something wrong, since their tone hadn't exactly been friendly, mentally scolding themselves. But to their surprise, instead of getting scolded, [Name] heard a faint but present chuckle coming from the other person.

"You should thank Her Majesty the Tsaritsa for your kindness," he said, handing them the piece of paper he had been typing on, "how many people do you think have had an opportunity like this, to have their debts absolved and a job guaranteed?"

"Absolved?"

"Exactly, absolved. All we need from you, child, is your loyalty. I can see the potential, but it all depends solely on you." He pointed at their vision, hanging from their waist with a faint shine. "Surely, you're lucky enough to possess one of these."

For anyone else, receiving a vision is a blessing. However, being in possession of one is like having an eternal debt to the world. To be chosen is to be special, and to be special enough to receive a vision is to be distinct from the rest.

Sometimes it became a curse. One can no longer live like a normal person, because there will always be something that sets them apart from the rest. All those who are given one struggle in some way — Has there ever been a vision holder who truly lived an entire life peacefully, without any conflict whatsoever? At least in Snezhnaya, it seemed not.

"I... I accept..." Their eyes filled with hope, looking at their own name perfectly typed on the document. There was the real identity of the gentleman in front of them, revealed in a fancy signature, the Fifth of the Fatui Harbingers, Pulcinella.

[Name] signed their names in the blank space, sealing their fate within the organization. From that moment on, they would be part of the Fatui, just one more in the crowd — But if that was what it took to ensure their survival, [Name] would do it without hesitation.

The real issue, however, was on the first day of duty, and it had a name: Ajax.

[Name] had just put on their uniform, which was a little big for their size. But then again, there were none designed for a fifteen-year-old to wear, so they'd have to be content with what they had on hand.

At least the jacket they were given was comfortable, warm enough to block out some of the bitter cold that surrounded them each second. [Name] even looked like a proper person in it, which made them let out a little laugh.

However, it wasn't until they were standing in line in a meaningful formation that [Name] noticed a boy of a similar age to them. Red curls that stood out against the white backdrop, with a red scarf that was too long for his neck — perhaps they weren't completely alone in that place.

[Name] waited patiently until the time came for them to start training, watching him with eagle eyes, following Ajax wherever he went. When they finally mustered up the courage, they approached him and extended a hand towards him.

"Hello, I'm [Name],"

"Hey!" The boy grinned and shook their hands firmly. "I'm Ajax!"

"Well... looks like we're the same age, huh? How about we train together?" they suggested, thinking it was the best option.

"Sure!" Ajax nodded, putting the sword he was holding aside. "That would be, like... an invitation to battle, right?"

Technically, it was, so they just followed the his reasoning and confirmed it. "Mhm!"

"Then get ready!" he announced, preparing to throw a full punch.

[Name] didn't react immediately, surprised at the speed of the boy who had already set up his punch. "W-WAIT—"

Thud.

Complete darkness was how the first and last friendly match between the two ended, with Ajax knocking them out with a single punch. That's how [Name] would learn that fighting Ajax was a trap. However, [Name] wouldn't lie that at least it had been the best sleep they'd had in months — and the worst black eye they'd ever gotten, too.

"Teyvat to [Name]?" They awoke from their thoughts to see Ajax's hand moving in front of their face. He then tapped them on the forehead. "Is anyone there?"

"Oh, sorry, I got distracted. I was just remembering the punch you gave me." They laughed. "Speaking of which, you also punched that guy the other day too... what's with punching people, redhead?"

"I've already apologized!" His face heated up with embarrassment. "And punching is way more practical. You'd be shocked if you knew how strong a punch from me can really be, when I throw one for real!"

"Hm, sure, no doubt about it—"

"I got one!" Ajax exclaimed, trying to pull the line back on the rod with great difficulty. "A little help would be nice, you know!"

[Name] hurried, wrapping their arms around him and pulling back to bring the fish to the surface. But the animal wouldn't cooperate, even with the effort they made take it out of the water.

Ajax took a step back. "That was fast!"

"Fast? We've been waiting for almost an hour—" They slipped on the ice, pulling him and the fish along with them. In the end, Ajax and [Name] both fell flat, like two idiots.

[Name] looked at him, who was holding the fish in his hands while the animal struggled in them. It was a funny sight, which was enough to get a genuine laugh out of them.

"Haha..." they laughed weakly, then raised their tone, "Hahaha!"

Ajax, hearing the sound of their giggles, bursted into laughter. He laughed so hard that small tears formed in his eyes, "Hahaha... What are we laughing at?"

[Name] pointed at him, "At you, you fool!"

"Oh, really?!" Ajax stood up, bringing the fish in his hands near them. "Let's see who gets the last laugh!"

[Name] got up and ran across the ice, running away from him. They slipped and balanced, with an infectious smile on their faces accompanied by the sweet sound of their laughter, while Ajax chased after them with the animal.

It was moments like this that reminded them that they weren't adults, but two true children at heart.

At least once a week, Ajax and [Name] were sent on missions. They weren't often in charge of the more complicated ones, as they were still too young. However, for the first time, the two of them were allowed to take part in a more risky operation.

The two were supposed to stay with the older ones, but [Name] found themselves alone, having gotten separated from the rest by accident. In the middle of such a large forest, they could only hope that a blizzard wouldn't strike right away.

[Name] analyzed their surroundings, trying to retrace the steps that led them to nowhere and return to where the division had planned to reunite. However, they seemed to go round in circles, never reaching their destination.

That's when they noticed a coat lying in the snow. It was brown, very different from the Fatui soldiers' uniform, with a shabby finishing and a gross smell of blood.

Pow.

That's what they heard, a loud, familiar sound that sent shivers down their spines. Looking up, they saw a bullet hole in the tree, well above their heads — by perhaps two centimeters, they would no longer be alive.

"...!" [Name] instinctively looked for the source of the sound, quickly finding it.

Their desperate eyes met another's, which held no pity. Yet another soldier, wounded, carrying a gun and a tremendous amount of hatred — not everyone liked the Fatui, and not everyone had sympathy just because they were a child.

Frightened, [Name] ran desperately, followed by fierce gunfire that almost hit them. [Name] hid behind a tree and drew out their bow, but couldn't hold it properly no matter how much they tried, since it always slipped from their hands.

The enemy was indeed wounded, but armed and apparently experienced. The look in his face had been enough to send shivers down their spine, because when compared to them, who couldn't even use their vision properly, it was like facing a real monster.

"It'll be all right..." they whispered to themselves. "I just need to—"

[Name] heard more gunshots, too close to where they were. Something told them to run, but also to stay, accept the invitation and have a proper fight. If it was to survive, then [Name] would fight, they needed to.

[Name] couldn't hide forever, it wouldn't be right.

"Come on, you bastard!" [name] shouted, their voice echoing through the woods, as they aimed their bows in the direction of the enemy.

They used their vision and set the arrow ablaze, burning their own fingertips in the process. They didn't know how to control the force with which the arrow burned, but they knew it would hurt anyone who was struck.

[Name] clumsily launched the first arrow, dodging a shower of bullets headed their way. They hoped it was enough, that they had been able to send it flying at his face. But instead, the projectile pierced through his shoulder.

"Damn!" the soldier shouted, trying to reload his weapon while wincing in pain, but his ammunition had run out.

He came up and pistol—whipped them, causing [Name] to cry out in pain for a few seconds. The impact was so intense that they dropped their weapon and fell into the snow.

[Name] then felt the real despair of being weak. They could hear their hearts pounding in their ears and their eyes watering from the pain of the blows they received to the head, while blood trickled down their faces.

They grabbed his foot, applying pyro to their hands to make his boot burn along with it. When he fell, it was then that they saw their chance to stay alive handed to them on a platter.

They reached for the bow that lay on the ground next to them, firmly holding it anyway. Nothing mattered, only survival and that was all — they only needed to survive, to live long enough to prove that they were capable.

It didn't take much for one person to kill another, just despair. That feeling of helplessness and genuine dread, which would move mountains if necessary, was all it took to pull the trigger.

They violently hit the enemy in the face with their own bow, as if it were a bat. It was only when the return attacks stopped that they realized what they had done. The body below had an expression of terror, eyes wide as blood dripped onto the white snow, staining its purity with a crimson shade.

"I—I didn't... I did this...?" They stared at their bloodied hands, feeling their heart beating wildly against their chest. That's when, suddenly, an incessant urge to cough overtook them, but only blood came from their mouth.

[Name] looked down and realized that they had been shot in the chest. The bullet had gone through what seemed to be their lung, they didn't know, the adrenaline was hiding the pain for as long as it took. However, the spot hit was clearly a lethal wound.

They took two clumsy steps backwards, shaking their heads in denial. [Name] was too afraid to do anything like that, taking a life itself was too cruel an act for them, but it was done.

However, they didn't want to die as murderers, not really. So, with determination, [Name] decided they wouldn't die there.

They turned around and ran that time like there was no tomorrow, using every drop of adrenaline they still had in their bodies. [Name] couldn't see the sun shining, only the same gray clouds that covered the sky, which seemed to mock the fact that there was no light at the end.

Their only way out was to get to the camp, where there should be healers waiting for the wounded. However, it was difficult for [Name] to distinguish the landscape around them, especially in such a nervous state.

[Name] tripped over their own foot, losing their balance and rolling painfully down the mountain. They watched life pass before their eyes, each moment painful with the intention of just surviving, not living. Then they closed their eyes tightly, already bracing themselves for a more abrupt impact and accepting certain death.

They hit a tree, before rolling one last time to the bottom of the hill. Fortunately, or not, it was low enough for them not to die on impact — they did wish it had been stronger, ending it all quickly.

[Name] felt like a bird, floating in the sky with their eyes closed. They thought they had died because of the serenity felt for a few seconds, only to be crushed by the cruel reality. Their fall had been gently cushioned by the snow, but even with all this effort, they couldn't see the camp — which meant it had all been in vain.

Finally, the pain returned to their body as if it had never left. Breathing was difficult, with each breath being painful in the extreme, as if their organs were punishing them for still being alive.

"N—No," they sobbed through words, hot tears contrasting with the coldness that cruelly coursed through their veins. "I—I hate it... I wanted to die in peace, not like this... Not like this..."

Their trembling hands squeezed the wound in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding. [Name] didn't know how much time they had left, they didn't want to know either, all left to do was pray to Tsaritsa and beg for a little mercy, for a quick death if possible.

[Name] still hadn't paid their debt to Her Majesty, for the life they had been offered. For the bread to eat every day, for the tent they had over their heads, for letting them breathe, for letting them remain in existence, they had to do their utmost to repay all the favors with whatever they could.

For the gratuitously heavy insults that they had to swallow in silence because they were weak; for the mountains and snowstorms that brought them down along the way; for the disgraceful defective vision of theirs — or rather, they were the defective ones.

"P—Please..." [Name] begged the nothing, while holding their vision close to their chest, "if miracles really do exist…”

How many things had [Name] thrown away, when what they wanted most was to prove to everyone that, even if they were weak, they didn't need to prove anything to anyone? [Name] didn't know, only the bitterness of a wasted time remained in their hearts.

They let their tears fall over the flaming orb, whose glow no longer seemed the same. With one last kiss to the gem, a silent thank you, they began to weep for a life they were about to lose.

There would be no one to mourn their death, to lament the defeat of someone who had never once won. They probably wouldn't even have a funeral, but would just be buried somewhere like an animal. How terrible would it be to be completely forgotten, with no soul to remember their existence?

And Ajax, their only friend... finally acknowledged this fact. Would the boy be desolate? Grieve? Or would he carry on as he always seemed to do?

They regretted not having told him things in life that only they could say. They could only hope for the best, that he wouldn't take the news that badly — but at the same time, there was a small, selfish desire for him to feel their death. Not because [Name] wanted him to suffer, but because that way they would know that they mattered to someone.

[Name] recalled the memories they had made with him, like when they first met, when they went ice fishing a few days ago. The image of how they ran and laughed with him that night, as if they weren't the next ones to die, was fresh.

At last, their body felt light, receiving a moment of tranquillity reserved for the end of endings, when [Name] felt nothing but the slow rhythm of their heartbeats, fighting for a lost cause, as if they didn't have two holes in their chests.

"I was truly... useless until the end, wasn't I...?" [Name] murmured what they knew would be their last words, a vent to themselves and to the world. With the last beat of their hearts and the cessation of their breathing, snowflakes touched the now freezing skin. "I hope I have served you well... Your Majesty..."

They died in silence, without disturbing anyone.

Meanwhile, with the mission over, Ajax found himself extremely bored. Contemplating the pure white snow stained with blood as he returned to camp had already become a habit of his.

He could not care less that his face had a few small scratches on it. Though, he had to admit, that any kind of mission made him tired. But before he could rest, he found a place to rest. So Ajax began to look for them throughout the camp, without any success in his search.

'They must be receiving medical care...' He thought, as he made his way towards the tent where the doctors were staying.

It was a small space that was often crowded with the number of people wounded during missions. Finding any specific person was difficult, even more so when he was being pestered to be treated right away because he was younger.

"Are you sure you don't want to go first?" one of the doctors asked, placing a hand on his bruised face.

"No, I'm fine!" Ajax smiled. "I'm just looking for..."

For some reason, his eyes fixed on a particular corner of the tent. Away from the rest, it was where they put the bodies of those who had perished in combat; but Ajax had never taken much notice of it, so why now?

He approached slowly, in silence. Ajax felt an uncharacteristic nervousness come over him, running through his veins. The chills he felt seemed to swallow him up from the inside out, it had been a long time since Ajax had felt like this, as if something was screaming "don't go there, stay here" and attempting to keep him from discovering the truth, as he approached a particular cloth.

He stopped in front of the covered figure, noticing something sticking out of the cloth. An object, a... vision. But the only ones in the entire division who possessed one were him and... [Name].

Terror was too little to describe what overtook Ajax, who hesitated to lift the cloth covering the individual's face. He wished he wouldn't hear his head and believe that they weren't the dead man in front of him.

With trembling hands, which he tried to stop, Ajax lifted the fabric slightly. And that's when the ground really seemed to crumble beneath him — they were dead, [Name] was truly dead.

Their skin was so pale and cold that it scared him a bit. But what particularly caught Ajax's eye was the sheer amount of blood they had lost, as their face and hair were completely stained a deep crimson red; and no one had bothered to close their eyes, devoid of life and its particular glow. Now, they were just a pit of darkness that matched his own.

"..." Ajax just stared, unable to say anything. Everything was trapped inside, without him being able to express it.

Ajax tried to tell himself that he didn't care, that they weren't really friends, just work colleagues. But the sadness in his heart betrayed the stoicism he tried so hard to maintain.

Ajax closed their eyes gently and kissed [Name]'s forehead gently before covering their face with the cloth again. It was an action that any mother would take on seeing her child dead, but they didn't have one to weep over their death — and if there wasn't one, then Ajax would play his part in showing respect for them.

Ajax may even have changed when he fell into the abyss, becoming a maniac for fighting and confusion. But at the end of the day, he was human just like everyone else.

Two days later, the tent they shared was cold, without the heat of the lamp to warm Ajax up, as it had already gone out with the icy wind coming through the gap in the entrance.

It was [Name] who kept them warm in the middle of the night, using their vision to keep the fire burning. And that was just a bitter reminder that they were no longer there.

The others had taken away everything that was theirs, accommodating what would be the belongings of a new tentmate, who would be arriving in a few days. It was as if they had ceased to exist altogether.

Ajax wouldn't mind being hit in the face with a pillow if they were the ones to hit him, with that smile, with that irritating tone of voice of theirs that Ajax recognized from afar. He wouldn't mind being called "redhead" again, if it was them calling him that.

"Ajax?" The voice that called him from outside was familiar to Ajax. It was the Fifth.

Ajax promptly got to his feet, walking outside the tent and greeting him politely, a treatment he reserved only for The Rooster. "I'm here, sir."

"I heard that one of your companions fell in battle... a shame," the Harbinger said, as he searched for something in his pocket. "Well, here it is..."

The man handed him a gray envelope, a letter. In the corner was written in almost illegible handwriting the names of the sender and recipient, respectively: [Name] and Ajax.

"Thank you, sir," he nodded, holding the envelope tightly in his hands.

"You were both very similar ages, you and..." the Rooster paused, having forgotten their name.

"[Name]." It was the first time Ajax had said their names, having called them "comrade" all the time since they'd met. Honestly, it hurt a little, how difficult it was to utter a simple phoneme.

A few minutes later, Ajax said goodbye to the Harbinger and entered the darkness of the tent again. He left out a deep breath, preparing himself for whatever was written inside that envelope.

Ajax could no longer remember what The Rooster had talked about, only that the exchange of words had been short, like all the others before. He didn't even have the mind to think about it now, he could apologize later if he forgot some important information.

But right now, the only thing that mattered to Ajax was [Name]'s letter. He opened the envelope, trying to be careful not to tear it, but in the end he did. Ajax strained his eyes to read what was written there, in a handwriting as bad as theirs.

Dear Ajax,

Should I start a letter with "dear"? I don't know, honestly, I have never written one. Well, if this letter found you, then that means I must be dead by now. I'm sure you're glad I did, as you'll now have the whole tent to yourself.

I've written this because I know that, in life, I might not be able to say what I think. I believe we're already friends, don't you too? That's how I feel about you, I think you're my only friend, and I've been very happy about that. Thank you, thank you very much, for the joyful and humorous moments you've provided me with in this little end of the world that is Snezhnaya.

I asked you the other day if you felt homesick; you may deny it, but I can understand how you feel, away from everyone you love in a place like this. Know that whatever may happen, I believe that the same people you miss feel the same way you do.

Don't listen to that little voice in your head that whispers "you're nothing but trouble", it's stupid. When I look at you, I don't see a troubled boy, but a boy with the heart of another. That day we were late for training, you could just as well have walked away and let me be punished for being late, but you didn't. We cleaned all the weapons by ourselves. We polished all the weapons alone, for hours, and you never complained. Why was that?

I don't know, but I'd like it to stay that way, so keep going! I'll be cheering you on from wherever I am, because you're the best warrior I've ever had the honor of meeting.

I end this letter with my admiration and gratitude to you; and never forget: we have our own time!

With much care,

[Name].

A single tear fell onto the paper, right below their name, accompanied by others that would soon form a hot waterfall in his eyes. Ajax didn't know how to respond to this, covering his face with the paper, as if he was embarrassed to end up being seen like this

Perhaps it was for the better, a reminder that life really wasn't fair, and that Ajax had strayed from the path he was on. He didn't want to care so much, but at the same time he did.

Ajax wanted someone to comfort him, to tell and reassure him that it was all right, that this sort of thing did happen, but at the same time, it didn't. It was hard, very hard, to face it. It was difficult, very difficult, to face the loneliness that he tried so hard to hide behind brute strength.

Anyone who saw him like that would doubt that he was the same person who ravaged the battlefield with his bloodlust, the boy who seemed like an uncontrollable monster with an indomitable spirit, causing trouble wherever he went.

But for one last time, in the darkness of that tent, he allowed himself to be... Vulnerable.

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